culpepee's heebal. 3g.ij
brother, I confess thou art evil spoken of, and so am
I; thou knowest I have my exaltation in thy house,
I give him an herb of mine, wormwood, to cure the'
poor man: Saturn consented, but spoke little, and so
Mars cured him by sympathy. When Mars was free
from war (for he loves to be fighting, and is the best
friend a soldier hath), I say, when Mars was free
from war, he called a council of war in his own brain,
to know how he should do poor sinful man good, do-
siring to forget his abuses in being called an unfor¬
tunate. He musters up his own forces, and places
them in battalia. Oh! quoth he, why do I hurt a
poor silly man or woman ? His angels answer him,
' It is because they have offended their God.' (Look
back to Adam!) Well, says Mars, though they speak
evil of me, I will do good to them; Death's cold, iny
herb shall heat them ; they are full of ill-humours
(else they would never have spoken ill of me ;) my
herb shall cleanse them, and dry them; they are poor
weak creatures, my herb shall strengthen them; they
are dull-witted, my herb shall fortify their apprehen¬
sions; and yet among astrologers all this does not
deserve a good word : Oh the patience of Mars !
Felix qui potuit rerum cognoseere causas,
Inque domus superum scandere curafacit.
Oh happy he that can the knowledge gain,
To know th'eternal God made nought in vain.
To this I add,
I know the reason causeth such a dearth
Of knowledge; 'tis because men love the earth.
The other day Mars told me he met with Venus,
and he asked her. What was the reason that she ac¬
cused him for abusing women? He never gave thein
the pox. In the dispute they fell out, and in anger
parted, and Mars told me that his brother Saturn told
him, that an anti-venerian medicine was the best
against the pox. Once a month he meets with the
Moon. Mars is quickenough of speech, and the moon
is not much behind hand (neither are most women.)