And that for feare of fayling in their feate:
But these conspirers couched all so cleane,
Through close demeanour, that their wyles did weane
My hart from doubts, so many a false deuice,
They[1282] forged fresh, to hyde their enterprise.
62.
They supt with mee, propounding frendly talke
Of our affayres, still geuing mee the prayse:
And euer among the cups to mee ward walke:
“I drinke to you, good cuz:” each traytoure saies: