Of Cinna his courage

PVre Cinna saith, and proudly doth professe,
That if the quarrell he maintaines be good:
No man more valiant is to spend his bloud,
No man can dread of death, of danger lesse.
But if the cause be bad, he doth confesse,
His heart is cold, and cowardly his moode.
Well, Cinna, yet this cannot be withstood,
Thou hast but euill lucke, I shrewdly gesse,
That biding whereas brawles are bred most rife,
Thou neuer hadst good quarrell all thy life.