 | Chrestoleros |  |
Epigr. 42.
Ovr vice is runne beyond all olde mens sawes,181
And scorning vertues safe and goolden meane.
Sits vncontrolde vpon the high extreame,
Circes thynne monsters painted out the hue,
Of fayned filthinesse, but ours is trewe.
Our vice puts downe all prouerbes and all theames,
Our vice excels all fables and all dreames.
| Chrestoleros | |