To be a mirrour of mishaps,
A Mappe of misery.
Extreamely doe I live,
Extreames are all my joy,
[III. 112.]I find in deepe extreamities,
Extreames, extreame annoy.
Now all alone I watch,
With Argoes eyes and wit.
A Cypher twixt the Greekes and Turkes
Upon this Rocke I sit.