The meed that traytors steps doth still await;
Nor could that priest remit thy foule offence,
Though with large sinne his bull did then dispence.
50.
And though he did denounce both pardon and curse,
Yet by the one small comfort didst thou find,
Ne yet was England’s happie state the worse;
But as in gloomie caues and corners blinde,
The sun’s bright blazing beames most cleare we finde;
So did the virgin’s glorie shine most brim,