Would wish in despair I had never been born!
Yet faith, to my sorrow I fear I should see
Ten thousand much more like to monkeys than me,
And mad for some fair one might steal forth to meet her,
And find her eloping with some other Peter.
Yet spite of these rubs, I should have the renown,
To be one of the finest young fellows in town.
Then since exile’s my fate, I implore with a tear,
To be shipped off for England, for that is my sphere.
If to this my petition, you start no objection,