This is the cause why such as fayne to weepe Doe howle outright, or wayling cry, ah, ah,[1279] Tearing themselues, and straining sighes most deepe: Why such dissemblers as would seeme to laugh, Breth not tihhee, but bray out, hah, hah, hah: Why beggers fayning brauery are the prowd’st[1280] Why cowards bragging boldnesse, wrangle lowd’st.[1281] 61. For commonly all that doe counterfayte In any thing, exceede the naturall meane, And that for feare of fayling in their feate: But these conspirers couched all so cleane, Through close demeanour, that their wyles did weane My hart from doubts, so many a false deuice, They[1282] forged fresh, to hyde their enterprise. 62. They supt with mee, propounding frendly talke Of our affayres, still geuing mee the prayse: And euer among the cups to mee ward walke: “I drinke to you, good cuz:” each traytoure saies: Our banquet done, when they should goe their wayes They tooke their leaue, oft wishing mee good night, As hartely as any creature might. 63. A noble heart they say is lyon like, It can not couch, dissemble, crouch, nor fayne, How villanous were these, and how vnlike? Of noble stocke the most ignoble stayne: Their woluish hearts, their trayterous foxly braine, Or proue[1283] them base, of rascall race engendred, Or from hault lynage, bastard like, degendred. 64. Such polling heades as prayse for prudent pollicy False practises, I wish were pact on poales: I mean the bastard law broode, which can molifie All kinde of causes in their crafty noales: These vndermine all vertue, blinde as moales, They bolster wrong, they racke and straine the right And prayse for lawe both malice, fraud, and might. 65. These quenche the worthy flames of noble kynde, Prouoking best borne to the basest vices: Through crafts they make the bouldest courage blind, Disliking highly valiant enterprises, And praysing vily, villanous deuices: These make the bore a hog, the bull an oxe, The swan a goose, the lyon a wolfe or foxe. 66. The lawyer _Catesby_, and his crafty feeres, A rout that nere[1284] did good in any reame, Are they that had transformde these noble peeres: They turnde theire bloud to melancholicke fleume, Their courage hault to cowardise extreame, Their force and manhoode, into fraud and malice, Their wit to wyles, stout _Hector_ into _Paris_. 67.