But Elye, Yorke, and I, were taken straight,
Imprisoned they, I should no longer wait,
But charged was to shriue me, and shift with hast:
My lorde must dine, and now midday was past:
The bore’s first dish, not the bore’s head should be:
But Hastinge’s head, the boarish beast would see.
76.
Why stay I his dinner? vnto the chappel ioyneth
A greenish hil, that body and soule oft twineth:
There on a blocke my head was striken of,