Assure thee, Baldwine, highly it did mee please.
9.
For[1243] freshest wits I know will sone be weary,
In reading long what euer booke it bee,
Except it bee vaine matter, strange, or mery,
Well sauste with lies, and glared all with glee,
With which because no graue truth may agree,
The closest stile for stories is the meetest,
In rufull moanes the shortest fourme is sweetest.
10.