And yet so pleasing as shall laughter moue:
And be his vaine, his game, his praise, his loue.
Sit not still then, keeping fames trump vnblowne:
But get thee Coryate to some land vnknowne.
From whẽce proclaime thy wisdom with those wõders,
Rarer then sommers snowes, or winters thunders.
And take this praise of that th'ast done alreadie:
T'is pitty ere they flow should haue an eddie.
Explicit Ioannes Dones.