Then downe wee kneelde, and cryde to saue our life, It was to late our folly to bewayle: There were wee spoyide of armour, coate, and knife: And wee, which thought [with pride] the citye to assaile, Were led in[1844] prisoners, naked as my nayle: [But] of vs two thousand they had slayne before, And wee of them three hundred and no more. 60. [This] my lorde and wee the captaynes of the west, Tooke [our] inne at Newgate, fast in fetters tide, Where after tryall[1845] wee had but litle rest: My lorde through _London_ was drawne on a slide, To _Tower_ hill, where with an[1846] axe hee dyde, Clad in his [coate] armour painted all in paper, Torne[1847] and reuersed[1848] in spite of his behauer.[1849] 61. And I with _Thomas Flamoke_, and[1850] other of our bent, As traytours at Tiburne our iudgment did obay: The people looked[1851] I should my fault lament, To whom I [boldly] spake, that for my fond assaye I was sure of fame,[1852] that neuer should decaye: Wherby ye may perceiue vayne glory doth enflame As well the meaner sort, as men of greater name.[1853] 62. But as the fickle patient, sometyme hath desyre To tast the things that phisicke hath denide, And hath both payne and sorrowe for his hyre: The same to mee right well may bee applide, Which while I raught for fame on shame did slide: And seeking fame, brought forth my bitter bane, As hee that fyred the temple of _Diane_. 63. I tell thee, _Baldwine_, I muse [right] oft, to see How euery man for wealth and honour gapeth, How euery man would climbe aboue the skye, How euery man th’assured meane so hateth, How froward fortune oft their purpose mateth: And if they hap theire purpose to obtayne, Their wealth is woe, their honour care and payne. 64. Wee see the seruant more happy[1854] then his lord, Wee see him lyue when that his lorde is dead, Hee slepeth sounde, is mery at his boorde, No sorrowe in his harte doth vexe his head: Happy [then] is he that pouerty can wed: What gayne the mighty conquerours[1855] when they be dead, By all the spoyle, and bloud that they haue shed? 65. The terrible towre[1856] where honour hath his seate, Is hye on rockes more slipper then the yse, Where still the whorleing wynde doth roare and beate, Where sodayne qualmes and periles still aryse, And is beset with many sundry vice, So straunge to men when first they come thereat, They bee amased, and do they wot not what. 66.