For the great losse of your Malignant Whelp.
Hee's dead! Hee's dead: No more, alas, can he
Protect you Dammes, or get Victorie.
How sad that Son of Blood did look to hear
One tell the death of this shagg'd Cavalier,
Hee rav'd, he tore his Perriwigg, and swore.
Against the Round heads that hee'd ne're fight more."
It goes on with a fabulous supernatural pedigree of Boy.
"'Twas like a Dog, yet there was none did know
Whether it Devill was, or Dog, or no."