But doubt distract’th[1300] mee, if I should consent
To yeelde mine honourde name, a martyrde saynt:
Yf martyrdome rest in the miser’s life
Through torments wrongly reft by fatall knyfe,
How fortune’s nursling I, and dearest babe,
Ought there to stoope, none may mee well perswade:
For how may miser martyrdome betyde,
To whome in cradell fortune was affyde?
4.
See how this grosest ayre infect’th[1301] mee since,