O that he cursed is and reprouable Whiche day and nyght stodyeth besely To fynde some meanes false and detestable To put his frende to losse or hurte therby Our hertes ar fully set on vylany There ar right fewe of hye or lowe degre That luste to norysshe trewe loue and amyte Alas exyled is godly charyte Out of our Royalme we all ar so vnkynde Our folys settyth gretter felycyte On golde and goodes than on a faythfull frynde Awake blynde folys and call vnto your mynde That though honest ryches be moche commendable Yet to a true frende it is nat comparable Of all thynges loue is moste profytable For the right order of lowe and amyte Is of theyr maners to be agreable And one of other haue mercy and pyte Eche doynge for other after theyr degre And without falshode this frendeshyp to mayntayne And nat departe for pleasour nor for payne But alas nowe all people haue dysdayne On suche frendshyp for to set theyr delyte Amyte we haue exyled out certayne We lowe oppressyon to sclaunder and bacbyte Extorcyon hath strength, pyte gone is quyte Nowe in the worlde suche frendes ar there none As were in Grece many yeres agone. Who lyst thystory of Patroclus to rede There shall he se playne wryten without fayle Howe whan Achyllys gaue no force nor hede Agaynst the Troyans to execute batayle The sayd Patroclus dyd on the aparayle Of Achylles, and went forth in his steade Agaynst Hector: but lyghtly he was dede. But than Achylles seynge this myschaunce. Befallen his frende whiche was to hym so true. He hym addressyd shortly to take vengeaunce. And so in Batayle the noble Hector slewe And his dede cors after his charot drewe. Upon the grounde traylynge ruthfully behynde Se howe he auengyd Patroclus his frende. The hystory also of Orestes dothe expresse Whiche whan agamenon his fader was slayne By egystus whiche agaynst rightwysnes The sayde Orestis moder dyd meyntayne The childe was yonge wherfore it was but vayne In youth to stryue, but whan he came to age His naturall moder slewe he in a rage And also Egystus whiche had his fader slayne Thus toke he vengeaunce of both theyr cruelnes But yet it grewe to his great care and payne For sodaynly he fell in a madnesse And euer thought that in his furiousnes His moder hym sued flamynge full of fyre And euer his deth was redy to conspyre Orestes troubled with this fereful vysyon As franatyke and mad wandred many a day Ouer many a countrey londe and regyon His frende Pylades folowynge hym alway In payne nor wo he wolde hym nat denay Tyll he restoryd agayne was to his mynde Alas what frynde may we fynde nowe so kynde.