(20) The trappe wherein, I say that I was tane: An outward salue, which inward me destroyes, Whereto I runne, as rat vnto her bane. As to the fish, sometime it doth befall, that with the baite, doth swallow hooke and all.
(25) Within my breast, wherewith I dayly fedde, The vayne repast, of amorous hote desire: with loytering lust, so long that hath me fedde, Till he hath brought me to the flaming fire. In time as Phenix endes her care and carkes, (30) I make the fire, and burne my selfe with sparkes. +
FINIS. L. Vaux.
Bethinking himselfe of his end, writeth thus. +
W Hen I behold the Baier, my last and posting horse, that bare shall to the graue, my vile and carren corse: Then say I seelie wretch, why doest thou put thy trust, In thinges either made of clay, that soone will turne to dust.
(5) Doest thou not see the young, the hardie and the fayre, that now are past and gone, as though they neuer were: Doest thou not see thy selfe, draw hourely to thy last, As shaftes which that is shot, at birdes that flieth fast.
Doest thou not see how death, through smiteth with his launce, (10) Some by warre, some by plague, and some by worldly chaunce: What thing is there on earth for pleasure that was made, But goeth more swift away, then doth the sommer shade.
Loe here the sommer flower, that sprong this other day, But winter weareth as fast, and bloweth cleane away: (15) Euen so shalt thou consume from youth to lothsome age, For death he doth not spare, the Prince more then the Page. +
Thy house shalbe of clay, a clotte vnder thy hedde, Untill the latter day, the graue shalbe thy bedde: Untill the blowing trompe doth say to all and some,