Well as I wish it to have continuance, so I praye God wyth the Prophet it be not abused. And because I think my selfe to have sufficiently answered that I supposed, I conclude with this. God preserve our peacable princes[s], and confound her enemies. God enlarge her wisdome, that like _Saba_ she may seeke after a _Salomon_: God confounde the imaginations of her enemies, and perfit His graces in her, that the daies of her rule may be continued in the bonds of peace, that the house of the chosen Isralites may be maynteyned in happinesse: lastly I frendly bid Gosson farwell, wyshinge him to temper his penn with more discretion. II.--JOHN LYLY (?) (_The author of_ Euphues _is the most probable claimant for the authorship also of the following, which is perhaps the ablest and not the least characteristic of all the set, Martinist or anti-Martinist. The introduction and the notes will supply all absolutely necessary information for understanding it._) _Pappe with an hatchet._ Alias, _A figge for my God sonne._ Or _Cracke me this nut._ Or _A Countrie cuffe, that is, a sound boxe of the_ eare, for the idiot _Martin_ to hold his peace, seeing the patch will take no warning. _Written by one that dares call a dog, a dog_, and made to preuent _Martins_ dog daies. Imprinted by _Iohn Anoke_, and _Iohn Astile_, for the Bayliue of Withernam, _cum priuilegio perennitatis_, and are to bee sold at the signe of the crab tree cudgell in thwackcoate lane. _A sentence._ _Martin_ hangs fit for my mowing. To the Father and the two Sonnes, Huffe, Ruffe, and Snuffe, the three tame ruffians of the Church, which take pepper in the nose, because they can not marre Prelates: grating. Roome for a royster; so thats well sayd, itch a little further for a good fellowe. Now haue at you all my gaffers of the rayling religion, tis I that must take you a peg lower. I am sure you looke for more worke, you shall haue wood enough to cleaue, make your tongue the wedge, and your head the beetle, Ile make such a splinter runne into your wits, as shal make th[=e] ranckle till you become fooles. Nay, if you shoot bookes like fooles bolts, Ile be so bold as to make your iudgements quiuer with my thunderbolts. If you meane to gather clowdes in the Commonwealth, to threaten tempests, for your flakes of snowe weele pay you with stones of hayle; if with an Easterlie winde you bring Catterpillers into the Church, with a Northerne wind weele driue barrennes into your wits. We care not for a Scottish mist, though it wet vs to the skin, you shal be sure your cockscombs shall not be mist, but pearst to the skuls. I professe rayling, and think it as good a cudgell for a Martin, as a stone for a dogge, or a whippe for an Ape, or poyson for a rat.