Book II, Prologue

OR beene the Manes of that Cynick spright,
Cloth'd with some stubborn clay & led to light?
Or doe the relique ashes of his graue
Reuiue and rise from their for saken caue?
That so with gall-weet words and speeches rude,
Controls the maners of the multitude.
Enuie belike incites his pining heart,
And bids it sate it selfe with others smart.
Nay, no despight: but angrie Nemesis,
Whose scourge doth follow all that done amisse:
That scourge I beare, albe in rude fist,
And wound, and strike, and pardon whom she list.