We shall be torne a-pieces: would we had kept
In our owne Countrey, there w’are safe enough:
You might haue writ and raild your bellifull,
And few, or none would contradict you, Sir.
Mis. Oh, but for one that writ against me, Swash,
Ide had a glorious Conquest in that Ile,
How my Bookes tooke effect! how greedily
The credulous people swallowed downe my hookes
How rife debate sprang betwixt man and wife!
The little Infant that could hardly speake,