Truth is no Doctoresse, she takes no degrees at Paris or Oxford, amongst great clerks, disputants, subtile Aristotles, men _nodosi ingenii, able to take Lully by the chin_, but oftentimes to such an one as myself, an _Idiota_ or common person, _no great things_, melancholizing in woods where waters are, quiet places by rivers, fountains, whereas the silly man expecting no such matter, thinketh only how best to delectate and refresh his mynde continually with _Natura_ her pleasaunt scenes, woods, water-falls, or Art her statelie gardens, parks, terraces, _Belvideres_, on a sudden the goddesse herself _Truth_ has appeared, with a shyning lyghte, and a sparklyng countenance, so as yee may not be able lightly to resist her.

* * * * EXTRACT III.
This morning, May 2, 1662, having first broken my fast upon eggs and cooling salades, mallows, water-cresses, those herbes, according to _Villanovus_ his prescription, who disallows the use of meat in a morning as gross, fat, hebetant, _feral_, altogether fitter for wild beasts than men, _e contra_ commendeth this herb-diete for gentle, humane, active, conducing to contemplation in most men, I betook myselfe to the nearest fields.

(Being in London I commonly dwell in the _suburbes_, as airiest, quietest, _loci musis propriores_, free from noises of caroches, waggons, mechanick and base workes, workshoppes, also sights, pageants, spectacles of outlandish birds, fishes, crocodiles, _Indians_, mermaids; adde quarrels, fightings, wranglings of the common sort, _plebs_, the rabble, duelloes with fists, proper to this island, at which the stiletto'd and secrete _Italian_ laughs.) Withdrawing myselfe from these buzzing and illiterate vanities, with a _bezo las manos_ to the city, I begin to inhale, draw in, snuff up, as horses _dilatis naribus_ snort the fresh aires, with exceeding great delight, when suddenly there crosses me a procession, sad, heavy, dolourous, tristfull, melancholick, able to change mirth into dolour, and overcast a clearer atmosphere than possibly the neighbourhoods of so great a citty can afford.

An old man, a poore man deceased, is borne on men's shoulders to a poore buriall, without solemnities of hearse, mourners, plumes, _mutae personae, those personate actors that will weep if yee shew them a piece of silver;_ none of those customed civilities of children, kinsfolk, _dependants_, following the coffin; he died a poore man, his friends _accessores opum_, _those cronies of his that stuck by him so long as he had a penny_, now leave him, forsake him, shun him, desert him; they think it much to follow his putrid and stinking carcase to the grave; his children, if he had any, for commonly the case stands thus, this poore man his son dies before him, he survives, poore, indigent, base, dejected, miserable, &c., or if he have any which survive him, _sua negotia agunt_, they mind their own business, forsooth, cannot, will not, find time, leisure, _inclination, extremum munus perficere_, to follow to the pit their old indulgent father, which loved them, stroked them, caressed them, cockering them up, _quantum potuit_, as farre as his means extended, while they were babes, chits, _minims_, hee may rot in his grave, lie stinking in the sun _for them_, have no buriall at all, they care not.

_O nefas!_ Chiefly I noted the coffin to have been _without a pall_, nothing but a few planks, of cheapest wood that could be had, _naked_, having none of the ordinary _symptomata_ of a funerall, those _locularii_ which bare the body having on diversely coloured coats, _and none black:_ (one of these reported the deceased to have been an almsman seven yeares, a pauper, harboured and fed in the workhouse of St.Giles-in-the-Fields, to whose proper burying-ground he was now going for interment.) All which when I behelde, hardly I refrained from weeping, and incontinently I fell to musing: "If this man had been rich, a _Croesus_, a _Crassus_, _or as rich as Whittington_, what pompe, charge, lavish cost, expenditure, of rich buriall, _ceremoniall-obsequies_, _obsequious ceremonies_, had been thought too good for such an one; what store of panegyricks, elogies, funeral orations, &c., some beggarly poetaster, worthy to be beaten for his ill rimes, crying him up, hee was rich, generous, bountiful, polite, learned, a _Maecenas_, while as in very deede he was nothing lesse: what weeping, sighing, sorrowing, honing, complaining, kinsmen, friends, relatives, fourtieth cousins, poor relatives, lamenting for the deceased; hypocriticall heirs, sobbing, striking their breasts (they care not if he had died a year ago); so many clients, dependants, flatterers, _parasites, cunning Gnathoes_, tramping on foot after the hearse, all their care is, who shall stand fairest with the successour; he mean time (like enough) spurns them from him, spits at them, treads them under his foot, will have nought to do with any such cattle.