To doe thee spight, his Malice may suffise.
I could not from a Prince beseech a boone
By suing to his Iester or Buffoone:
Nor, any Fooles vaine humor, sooth or serve,
To get my bread, though I were like to starve.
For, to be poore, I should not blush so much,
As if a Foole should raise me to be rich.
Lord, though of such a kinde my faults may be,
That sharpe Affliction still must tutor mee,
(And give me due Correction in her Schooles)