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Mynors Bright translation
A conceited man, but of no Logique in his head at all Best poem that ever was wrote (Siege of Rhodes) French have taken two and sunk one of our merchant-men Hath sent me masters that do observe that I take pains How little heed is had to the prisoners and sicke and wounded How unhppily a man may fall into a necessity of bribing people Lechery will never leave him Money I have not, nor can get Mr. Evelyn's translating and sending me as a present Poor seamen that lie starving in the streets Saying me to be the fittest man in England Searchers with their rods in their hands