What a do was there made in London at a certein man becaufe he fayd, and in dede 
at that time on a iuft caufe. Burgeffes quod he, na butterflies. Lorde what a do there 
was for yat worde. And yet would God they were no worfe then butterflies. Butterflyes 
do but theyre nature, the butterflye is not couetoufe, is not gredye of other mens goodes, 
is not ful of enuy and hatered, is not malicious, is not cruel, is not mercileffe. — Latimer. 
