‘Litle Iohn, for it may not be;
If I shold doe any widow hurt, at my latter end,
God,’ he said, ‘wold blame me;
26
‘But take me vpon thy backe, Litle Iohn,
And beare me to yonder streete,
And there make me a full fayre graue,
Of grauell and of greete.
27
‘And sett my bright sword at my head,