And treacherouse wrong Alexas hath me done,
Witnes too well her periur’d loue to me.
But you O Gods (if any faith regarde)
With sharpe reuenge her faithles change reward.
Lu. The dole she made vpon our ouerthrow,
Her Realme giuen vp for refuge to our men,
Her poore attire when she deuoutly kept
The solemne day of her natiuitie,
Againe the cost, and prodigall expence
Shew’d when she did your birth day celebrate,