O traytors fell, which in your heartes could find, Like feendes of hell, the guiltles to betray, But yee chiefly his kinsmen most vnkinde, Which gaue consent to make him so away, That vnto God, with all my heart I pray, Vengeaunce may light on him that caused all, _Beaufort_, I meane, that cursed cardinall. 27. Which bastard priest of th’house[692] of _Lancaster_, Sonne to duke _Iohn_, surnamed _Iohn of Gaunt_, Was first create byshop of _Winchester_, For no learning whereof hee might well vaunt, Ne for vertue, which hee did neuer haunt, But for his gold and sommes that were not small, Payde to the pope, was made a cardinall. 28. Proud _Lucifer_, which from the heauens on high Downe to the pit of hell belowe was cast, And being once an aungell bright in sky, For his high pride in hell is chained fast In deepe darknes that euermore shall last, More hawt of heart was not before his fall, Then was this proud and pompous cardinall: 29. Whose life, good _Baldwine_, paynt out in his pickle, And blase this _Baal_ and belligod most blinde, An hypocrite, all faythles, false, and fickle, A wicked wretch, a kinsman most vnkind, A deuill incarnat, all deuishly enclinde, And (to discharge my conscience all at once) The deuill him gnawe, both body, bloud, and bones. 30. The spitefull prieste would needes make mee a witch, As would to God I had beene for his sake, I would haue claw’d him where hee did not itche, I would haue playde the lady of the lake, And as _Merline_ was, cloasde him in a brake, Ye a meridian to lul him by day light, And a night mare to ride on him by night. 31. The fiery feends with feuers hot and frenzy, The ayery heggs with stench and carren sauoures, The watry ghostes with gowtes and with dropsy, The earthy goblines, with aches at all houres, Furyes and fayryes, with all infernall powers, I would haue stir’d from the darke dungeon Of hell centre, as deepe as demagorgon. 32. Or had I now the skill of dame _Erichto_, Whose dreadfull charmes (as _Lucan_ doth expresse) All feendes did feare, so far forth as prince _Pluto_, Was at her call for dread of more distresse, Then would I send of helhoundes more and lesse A legion at least, at him to cry and yel, And with that chyrme, herrie him downe to hell. 33.