Pag. 13.
Lin. 8. But meethinks Nature complains of a prostitution, &c. Did not I tell you so before, that Philalethes was a pander? and now hee is convinced in his own conscience and confesses the crime, and his ears ring with the clamours and com∣plaints of Madam Nature, whom he has so lewdly prostituted. Sad Melancholist! thou art affrighted into the confession of crimes that thou art not only not guilty of, but canst not be guilty of if thou wouldst. Is there never a one of our City Divines at leasure to comfort him and compose him? I tell thee, Madam Nature is a far more chast and discreet Lady, then to lye obnoxious to thy pro∣stitutions. These are nothing but some unchast dreams of thy prurient and pol∣luted phansie. I dare quit thee of this fact, Philalethes! I warrant thee, Thou