Garden but do that? even this Rose-Bed will
furnish me with what to say. _As the Beauty of a Rose is fading, so is
Youth soon gone; you make haste to gather your Rose before it withers;
you ought more earnestly to endeavour that your Youth pass not away
without Fruit._

_Hi._ It is a Theme very fit for a Verse.

_Ca. As among Trees, every one hath its Fruits: So among Men, every one
hath his natural Gift._

_Eu. As the Earth, if it be till'd, brings forth various Things for
human Use; and being neglected, is covered with Thorns and Briars: So
the Genius of a Man, if it be accomplish'd with honest Studies, yields a
great many Virtues; but if it be neglected, is over-run with various
Vices._

_Sb. A Garden ought to be drest every Year, that it may look handsome:
The Mind being once furnish'd with good Learning, does always flourish
and spring forth._

_Pa. As the Pleasantness of Gardens does not draw the Mind off from
honest Studies, but rather invites it to them: So we ought to seek for
such Recreations and Divertisements, as are not contrary to Learning._

_Hi._ O brave! I see a whole Swarm of Sentences. Now for Verse: But
before we go upon that, I am of the Mind, it will be no improper nor
unprofitable Exercise to turn the first Sentence into _Greek_ Verse, as
often as we have turn'd it into _Latin._ And let _Leonard_ begin, that
has been an old Acquaintance of the _Greek_ Poets.

_Le._ I'll begin if you bid me.

_Hi._ I both bid and command you.

_Le._ [Greek: Hoi kepos estin anthesin gelon kalois,
Ho de nous mal auchmon tois kalois muthemasin,
Ouk esti kompsos outos, ouk orthos phronei,
Peri pleionos poion ta phaul, e kreittona].

He never entered Wisdom's Doors
Who delights himself in simple Flowers,
And his foul Soul neglects to cleanse.
This Man knows not what Virtue means.

I have begun, let him follow me that will.

_Hi. Carinus._

_Ca._ Nay, _Hilary._

_Le._ But I see here's _Margaret_ coming upon us of a sudden, she's
bringing I know not what Dainties.

_Hi._ If she does so, my Fury'll do more than I thought she'd do. What
hast brought us?

_Ma._ Mustard-Seed, to season your Sweet-Meats. An't you ashamed to
stand prating here till I can't tell what Time of Night? And yet you
Poets are always reflecting against Womens Talkativeness.

_Cr. Margaret_ says very right, it is high Time for every one to go Home
to Be