[♦] Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage
And purchase friends and give to courtezans,
Still revelling like lords till all be gone;
220 While as the silly owner of the goods
[♦] Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands
And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof.
While all is shared and all is borne away,
[♦] Ready to starve and dare not touch his own:
225 So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue,
While his own lands are bargain’d for and sold.