LV.

Know'st thou not how of th' Hebrewes' royall stemme (That old dry stocke) a despair'd branch is sprung: A most strange Babe! Who here conceal'd by them In a neglected stable lies, among Beasts and base straw: Already is the streame Quite turn'd: th' ingratefull rebells, this their young Master (with voyce free as the trumpe of Fame) Their new King, and thy Successour proclame.