My tryple mace dooth rule the worlde you see,
Thou subiect art the meanest of the traine,
Whom conquest hath compeld to wayte on me:
A meaner knyght were meete to match with thee,
Yet, I myselfe, with al my hart doo dayne,
To reue thy life, and cause thee to complayne.”
43.
Then I whose hart was al beglarde with glee,
To Cæsar sayd: “If fate hath framde my foyle,
If now the last of all my lyfe I see,