Went on with death that deadly stake about,
Vntill my bowels being winded out,
With death I fell, and in that fall did find
An end of woe, an end of griefe of mind.
62.
Men light of credence warned be by me,
To deeme no profer’d friendship firme and sure,
Till truth haue triall made, for flatterie
Makes fained loue the fittest cloake t’obscure
Falsehood from truth, which practise puts in vre,