Twice tenne and eight I ranne my ruthful race,
And then in Paule’s my cursed corps was layde,
Canutus did my common-weale deface,
The Danes were kinges, my kingdome was decayde,[1245]
This worlde is frayle, and euery thing must fade,
But alwayes that which wanteth gouernment,
That fyrst dooth feele the force of danger’s dent.
[THE INDUCTION.
“O Memory,” quoth Inquisition, “what dyd become of Edmunde Ironsyde, of whom you made mention in your former induction?” “That vertuous valiaunt prince,” quoth Memory, “was miserably made away by an earle.” “By an earle,” quoth Inquisition, “I haue here an earle called Edricus, who murthered a kynge, it may bee, that chaunce hath yeelded vntoo vs the factour vnlooked for.” “He is euen the same,” sayd Memory, “and hys tragedye is very necessarie, for hee as thys woorthie kyng was set on a priuie, to doo as nature and necessitie dooth constrayne, caused hym miserably to bee thrust vp into the fundament wyth a speare, wherewith the good prince ended hys dayes.” “If we doo heare hym, geue hym warnyng,” quoth Inquisition, “that hee be briefe: for wee haue no tyme to bestowe in hearing the complayntes of those miserable princes, and yet wee muste needes heare one more besyde hym. Let him therefore goe roundly to the purpose.” “He shal not be tedious,” quoth Memory. Wherewith the wretched man sayde as foloweth.]