Wither’d his heart with fellest rage and hate
Shrivell’d and lean his carcase like an ape
And numerous crowds upon the same did gape,
As he all-naked stood to every eye;
Above an altar covered with crape,
And formed of his books one might descry,
Profane and lewd it was, and cramm’d with many a lie.
X.
And still from ’neath the altar roared he,
As from a bull lowing in cavern deep,