O my bright louely Brooke, whose name doth beare the sound Of Gods first Garden-plot, th’imparadized ground, Wherein he placed Man, from whence by sinne he fell.

And thank kind heav'n, their country can afford / A tumid haggeſs to adorn their board.

I know thee well; / But in thy fortunes am unlearn’d and strange.

At the trial, the extent of his deviant behavior became clear.