Though force was such I must obay him needes:
With hiest rulers seldome well it speedes,
For they be euer nerest to the nyp,
And fault who shall, for all feele they the whip.
17.
For whan I was by parliament attaynted,
King Edward’s euils all were counted mine:
No truth auayled, so lies were faste and painted,
Which made the people at my life, repine,
Crying, “Crucifige, kill that butcher’s lyne:”