To hear of ought against their humour’s course,
Yet, sithence who forbiddeth not offence,
If well he may, is cause of such offence,
I could have wish’d (and blame me not, my lord)
Your place and countenance both with son and sire
Had more prevail’d on either side, than thus
T’ have left a crown in danger for a crown
Through civil wars, our country’s wonted woe:
Whereby the kingdom’s wound, still fest’ring deep,
Sucks up the mischievous[279] humour to the heart.