Sould by the pecke as chandlers mesure oates,
I mervaile then we have no trade from thence:
O tis too farre it will not beare expence.
T’were far indeede, a good way from our mayne,
If charges eate up such excessive gaine,
Well he can shew you some of Lybian gravell,
O that there were another world to travell,
I heard him sweare that hee (twas in his mirth)
Had been in all the corners of the earth.
Let all his wonders be together stitcht,