If gainst my will, what sorrow will availe? O livesome death, O sweete and pleasant ill, Against my minde how can thy might prevaile?

One whose beauty / Would oversell all Italy

We have a theory, but we haven't found a smoking gun yet.

The Archbyshop of Yorke[…]swasht him down, meaning to thrust himselfe in betwixt the Legate, and the Archbyshop of Canterbury.