To swallow me quicke, some weeping Crocodile.
And didst thou then suppose my royall hart
Had hatcht, thee to ensnare, a faithles loue?
And changing minde, as Fortune changed cheare,
I would weake thee, to winne the stronger, loose?
O wretch! ô caitiue! ô too cruell happe!
And did not I sufficient losse sustaine
Loosing my Realme, loosing my liberty,
My tender of-spring, and the ioyfull light
Of beamy Sunne, and yet, yet loosing more