Where when I came, I saw the church besett
With tumults, as if all the Brethren mett
To heare some silenc’t teacher of that quarter
Inveigh against the order of the garter:
And justly might the weake it grieve and wrong,
Because the garter prayes in a strange tongue;
And doth retaine traditions yet, of Fraunce,
In an old Honi soit qui mal y pense.
Whence learne, you knights that order that have t’ane,
That all, besides the buckle, is profane.