Without a guide,[865] forsakeing foode for woe,
Spurina warned mee that sooth of thinges did knowe,
A wrenne[866] in beake with Laurell greene that flewe
[From woods to Pompey’s Court, whom birdes there slew,]
Forshowde my dolefull death, as after all men knew.
44.
The night before my slaughter[867] I did dreame
I caried was and[868] flewe the clouds aboue,
And sometime hand in hand with[869] loue supreame
[I walkte mee thought, which might suspitions moue:]