Did live by blood, and thrive by crueltye,
Shee would have bin more horrid engines farre
Than fire, or famine, racks, and halters are.
Whether her witt, forme, talke, smile, tire I name,
Each is a stock of tyranny, and shame;
But for her breath, spectatours come not nigh,
That layes about; God blesse the company!
The man, in a beares skin baited to death,
Would chose the doggs much rather then her breath;
One kisse of hers, and eighteene wordes alone