Our vice runs beyond all that old men saw,
And far authentically above our laws,
And scorning virtues safe and golden mean,
Sits uncontrolled upon the high extreme.
Circes, thy monsters painted out the hue,
Of feigned filthiness, but ours is true.
Our vice puts down all proverbs and all themes,
Our vice excels all fables and all dreams.
- Book 7, Epigram 42 by Thomas Bastard
The same God so that he obtained of the Magus was by demons be pulled in pieces [16th century] by Pieter Bruegel the Elder