Who striues for place his owne decay procures:
Who alway brawles is sure to catch a knocke:
Who beardes a king, his head is neere the blocke:
But who doth stand in feare and worldly dreede,
Ere mischiefe coms had neede to take good heede.
57.
I hauing hap, did make account of none,
But such as fed my humour good or bad:
To fawning dogs, sometimes I gaue a bone,
And flong some scrapps to such as nothing had: