This is a pyteous case,
To you that ouer[1140] the whele
Grete[1141] lordes must crouche[1142] and knele, 630
And breke theyr hose at the kne,
As dayly men may se,
And to remembraunce call,[1143]
Fortune so turneth the ball
And ruleth so ouer all,
That honoure hath a great fall.
Shall I tell you[1144] more? ye, shall.