For Godes sake looke aboute,
And staye betymes this route,
For feare thei doo come oute.
I put you out of doubte,
There ys no greate trust,
Yf trothe shuld be discuste:
Therfore, my lordes, take heade
That this gere do not brede
At[407] chesse to playe a mate,
For then yt is to late: