Thy stinking corps corrupts the ayre I knowe:
Thy shamefull death no earthly wight bemones,
For in thy lyfe thy workes were hated so,
That euery man did wish thy ouerthroe:
Wherfore I may, though parciall now I am,
Curse euery cause whereof thy body came.
67.
Woe worth the man that fathered such a childe,
Woe worth the howre wherein thou wast begate:
Woe worth the brests that haue the world begylde,