16.
But where the nobles want both wit and grace,
Regarde no rede, care not but for theyr lust,
Oppresse the poore, set will in reason’s place,
And in theyr wordes and doomes bee found vniust,
Wealth goeth to wracke till all lye in the dust:
There fortune frownes, and spite begins[1796] to growe,
Till high, and lowe, and all be ouerthrowe.
17.
Then sith that vertue hath so good rewarde,