The grace of his Creator doth despise,
That will not vse his gifts for thanklesse nigardise.
When so he heard her say, eftsoones he brake xvi
His sodaine silence, which he long had pent,
And sighing inly deepe, her thus bespake;
Then haue they all themselues against me bent:
For heauen, first author of my languishment,
Enuying my too great felicity,
Did closely with a cruell one consent,
To cloud my daies in dolefull[143] misery,