"O Lorde, he sayde, O God omnipotent,
Nowe se I well thy godhede loueth me,
That suffred neuer my foes to haue theyr entent
Of myne persone in myne aduersite,
Ne in myne sycknesse, [ne in myne] [nor.] infyrmyte;
But ay haste kepte it fro theyr maleuolence,
And chastysed me by thy beneuolence.
¶ Lorde I thanke the with all my herte,
With all my soule and my spirytes clere,
This wormes mete, this caryon full [foule.] vnquerte, [Fol. CC.vii.]
That some tyme thought in worlde it had no pere,
This face so foule that leprous doth apere,
That here afore I haue had suche a pryde
To purtraye ofte in many place full wyde:
¶ Of which ryght nowe ye porest of this lande,
Except only of theyr benignyte,
Wolde loth to looke vpon I vnderstande,
Of whiche, good Lorde, that thou so visyte me,
A thousande tymes the Lorde in Trinyte,
With all my herte I thanke the, and cōmende
Into thyne handes my soule withouten ende."
¶ And dyed so in fayth and hole creaunce,
At Cauntorbury buryed with greate reuerence,
As a kyng shulde be wt all kynde of circumstaūce,
According vnto [with.] his hye magnifycence,
Besyde the prynce Edward, with great expence,
Of Christ was then a. M. yere full oute,
Four hundreth eke and thirtene oute of doubte.
¶ O very God, what torment had this kyng, [The conceyte of the maker.]
To remember in bryef and shorte entent,
Some in his sherte put ofte tyme venemyng,
And some in meate and drinke great poysonment;
Some in his hose by great ymagenement,
Some in bedstraw yrōs sharpe groūd [wel] & whet,
Enuenemed sore to slee him [if he had] on them set.
¶ Some made for hym diuers enchauntmentes,
To waste hym oute and vtterly destroye,