Of my fraile safetie, resting in the might
Of him, that did the kingly Scepter beare,
Whose gealous dread induring not a peare,
Is wont to cut off all, that doubt may breed,
Thought best away me to remoue somewhere
Into some forrein land, where as no need
Of dreaded daunger might his doubtfull humor feed.
So taking counsell of a wise man red, xxx
She was by him aduiz’d, to send me quight
Out of the countrie, wherein I was bred,