For which this villan monke did poyson mee.
86.
To vent the poisned thoughts of his false brest,
Loe all alone in dead time of the night,
When euery one had laid him downe to rest,
When aire was husht, when from the welkin bright
The golden stars did cast a glimmering light,
He forth did walke into a garden by,
For to effect his wicked treacherie.
87.