“Loe here,” quoth Sorrow, “princes of renoune,
That whilom sate on top of fortune’s wheele,
Now layde full low, like wretches whurled downe,[1569]
Euen with one frowne, that slayde but with a smyle,
And now beholde the thing that thou, erewhile,
Saw onely in thought, and, what thou now shalt heere,
Recompt the same to kesar, king, and peere.”
77.
Then first came Henry duke of Buckingham,
His cloake of blacke all pilde, and quite forworne,[1570]