With whome for friendship mine in like case went,
This was my hap my fortune or my faute,
This life I led and thus I came to naught.
20.
Wherefore, good Baldwine, will the peeres take heede,
Of slaunder, malice, and conspiracy,
Of couetise, whence all the rest proceede,
For couetise ioynt with contumacy,
Doth cause all mischiefe in men’s hartes to breede:
And therefore this to esperance my word,