_Palestra_.[71] Is this then the reward of Innocense,
Of goodness to our selfes, namely chast lyfe,
Pietye to our parents, love to all,
And above all our Christian zeale towardes heaven?
But why shoold wee poore wretches thus contest
Against the powers above us, when even they
That are the best amongst us are servd badd?
Alas, I never yet wrongd man or child,
Woman or babe; never supplanted frend
Or sought revendge upon an enemy.
You see yet howe we suffer; howe shall they then
That false their faythes, that are of uncleane lyfe
And then not only sinne unto them selves
But tempt and persuade others? what shall I thinke
Becoms of my base guardian? though the waves
Have spared the guiltles, sure his putrid s[oule][72]
Cannot escape heavens justyce! wee poor wretches
Are punishe [_sic_] for his grosse impietyes,
They mov'd heavens wrathe, who stir'd the winds and waves
Stryvinge whose fury should destroy us fyrst.
These boathe conspyringe in our ruinne, th'one
Beate us belowe the billowes whilst the other
Swallowed boathe shippe and goodes; [amongst] the rest
A[73] budget or portmantau which includes
All the bawdes wealth.
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