'Who doth not see the measures of the Moone,
'Which thirteene times she daunceth euery yeare?
'And ends her pauine[204] thirteene times as soone
'As doth her brother, of whose golden haire[205]
'She borroweth part, and proudly doth it weare;
'Then doth she coyly turne her face aside,
'Then halfe her cheeke is scarse sometimes discride.
42.
'Next her, the pure, subtile, and clensing Fire[206]
'Is swiftly carried in a circle euen;
'Though Vulcan be pronounst by many a lyer,
'The only halting god that dwels in heauen:
'But that foule name may be more fitly giuen
'To your false Fire, that farre from heauen is fall:[207]
'And doth consume, waste, spoile, disorder all.
43.
'And now behold your tender nurse the Ayre[208]
'And common neighbour that ay runns around;
'How many pictures and impressions faire
'Within her empty regions are there found;
'Which to your sences Dauncing doe propound.
'For what are Breath, Speech, Ecchos, Musicke, Winds,
'But Dauncings of the Ayre in sundry kinds?
44.
'For when you breath, the ayre in order moues,
'Now in, now out, in time and measure trew;
'And when you speake, so well she dauncing loues,
'That doubling oft, and oft redoubling new,
'With thousand formes she doth her selfe endew
'For all the words that from our lips repaire
'Are nought but tricks and turnings of the ayre.
45.
'Hence is her pratling daughter Eccho borne,
'That daunces to all voyces she can heare;
'There is no sound so harsh that shee doth scorne,
'Nor any time wherein shee will forbeare
'The ayrie pauement with her feet to weare;
'And yet her hearing sence is nothing quick,
'For after time she endeth euery trick.