Now, he that cals himself the scourge of Jove,
The Emperour of the world, and earthly God,
Shal end the warlike progresse he intends,
And traveile hedlong to the lake of hell:
Where legions of devils (knowing he must die
Here in Natolie, by your highnesse hands)
All brandishing their brands of quenchlesse fire,
Streching their monstrous pawes, grin with their teeth,
And guard the gates to entertaine his soule.
