Gave him but little pleasure. He liked horses,
But was content to let them please his eye—
Buying them, not squaring with his resources.
Therefore his summum bonum was to lie
Stretch’d at full length—yea, frankly be it said,
To do no single thing but lie in bed.
’Twas owing all to that infernal writing.
Body and brains had borne such grievous rounds
Of kicks, cuffs, floors, from copying and inditing,
That he could find no balsam for his wounds,