This tale must at one time or other give up the ghost, and
as good now as stay longer. I would gladly rid my hands of
it cleanly if I could tell how, for what with talking ofcobblers,
tinkers, rope-makers, botchers, and dirt-daubers, the mark
is clean out of my muse’s mouth, and I am as it were more
than duncified twixt divinity and poetry. What is there more
as touching this tragedy that you would be resolved of?
Nay, quickly, for now is my pen on foot again. How John
Leyden died, is that it? He died like dog; he was hanged &
the halter paid for. For his companions, do they trouble you?
I can tell you they troubled some men before, for they were
all killed, & none escaped, no, not so much as one to tell the
tale of the rainbow. Hear what it is to be Anabaptists, to be
Puritans, to be villains.