His butterfly still vnderneath my shielde
Displayed was, from Welles to Blackeheath fielde.
10.
But now beholde hee doth bewayle the same:
Thus after wits theyr rashnes do depraue:
Beholde dismayde hee dare not speake for shame,
He lookes like one that late came from the graue,
Or one that came forth of Trophonius caue,
For that in wit hee had so litle pith,
As he a lord to serue a traytour smith.