62.
“Hastings,” quoth I, “according now they[1438] fare,
At Pomfret this day dying, who causde that care,
My selfe haue all the world now[1439] at my will,
With pleasures cloyed, engorged with the fill:”
“God graunt it so:” quoth hee: “Why doubtst thou tho?”
Quoth I, and all in chafe to him gan shewe
In ample wise, our drift with tedious tale:
And entred so the Tower to my bale.
63.