But, as it is (the Child of Ignorance
And utter stranger to all Ayr of France)
How can I speak of thy great pains, but err;
Since they can only judge that can confer?
Behold! the reverend shade of Bartus stands
Before my thought and (in thy right) commands
That to the world I publish, for him, this:
Bartus doth with thy English now were his,
So well in that are his Inventions wrought,
As his will now be the Translation thought,