ANTHONY MUNDAY'S POEM ON THE CAPTIVITY OF JOHN FOX.


Leeving at large all fables vainly us'd,
all trifling toys that doe no truth import,
Lo, here how the end (at length), though long diffus'd,
unfoldeth plaine a rare and true report,
To glad those minds who seek their countries wealth
by proffer'd pains t'enlarge its happy health.

At Rome I was when Fox did there arrive;
therefore I may sufficiently express
What gallant joy his deedes did there revive
in the hearts of those which heard his valiantness.
And how the Pope did recompense his pains,
and letters gave to move his greater gains.

But yet I know that many doe misdoubt
that those his pains are fables, and untrue;
Not only I in this will bear him out,
but divers more that did his Patents view,
And unto those so boldly I dare say
that nought but truth John Fox cloth here bewray.

Besides, there's one was slave with him in thrall
lately return'd into our native land;
This witness can this matter perfect all:
what needeth more? for witness he may stand.
And thus I end, unfolding what I know;
the other man more larger proof can show.