XXXI
Into an embrion fish, our Soule is throwne, And in due time throwne out againe, and growne To such vastnesse as, if unmanacled From Greece, Morea were, and that by some Earthquake unrooted, loose Morea swome, Or seas from Africks body had severed And torne the hopefull Promontories head, This fish would seeme these, and, when all hopes faile, A great ship overset, or without saile Hulling, might (when this was a whelp) be like this whale.