If lascivious he were, he may answer with Ovid, Vita verecunda est, musa
iocosa mea est, My life is chaste, though wanton be my verse. Tell me, who
is travelled in histories, what good poet is, or ever was there, who hath not
had a little spice of wantonness in his day? Even Beza himself, by your leave.
Aretine, as long as the world lives, shalt thou live. Tully, Virgil, Ovid, Seneca
were never such ornaments to Italy as thou hast been. I never thought of
Italy more religiously than England till I heard of thee. Peace to thy ghost,
and yet methinks so indefinite a spirit should have no peace or intermission
of pains, but be penning ditties to the archangels in another world. Puritans,
spew forth the venom of your dull inventions. A toad swells with thick troubled
poison; you swell with poisonous perturbations; your malice hath not a clear
dram of any inspired disposition.