But wicked worldlings are so witles wood,
That to the worst they althinges construe still:
With rigour oft they recompence good will:
They racke the wordes till time theyr sinowes burst,
In dolefull[1685] sences strayning still the worst.
10.
A paynfull proofe taught mee the truth of this,
Through tyraunt’s rage, and fortune’s cruell tourne:
They murdred mee, for meetring things amisse:
For wotst thou what? I am that Collingbourne