The man-mouse taken in a trap

As for me, I can pity you. You are (you say) much more willing to learn than able to teach. Truly, I believe it; and what is unnecessary, you will prove it. Your matrix original: "Matrix" — the source, womb, or formative part of the mind, you tell me, is barren; I think (though no chemist original: "Chimist" — likely referring to alchemists who used "matrix" as a technical term ever called it so before you) you mean your brain. This is no news to me; I have known it since I first saw your Platonic Song of the Soul original: "Psychodia Platonica" — the title of More's philosophical poem.

Your next whine is one of conscience. You cannot (you say) affirm in the presence of your glorious God that affection and zeal for His truth has forced you to write. I am entirely of your opinion; I dare swear you cannot. But oh my! This abstinence is religion to you. Come here, Piety! You cannot protest because you are such a deadly enemy to Protestants; but can't your Brownist faith original: "Brown faith" — a reference to the Brownists, a group of early English religious separatists commit perjury original: "forswear"? You never took any oath except by the two mustaches original: "Mustachos" branching at your mouth. You know the poet likely a reference to a specific satirical verse of the era; be your own interpreter.

Turn around again, you monkey original: "Jack-Ape"; you must show me another caper original: "Friscal" — a jump or a frolicsome move. Though you cannot protest, there is something you dare profess. You write (you say) out of an implacable enmity to immorality and fool-