By proufe to true I finde:
Wherefore I praye thee with the rest,
Do put my faultes in mynde.
My father olde, hight Gorboduge,
Raignde three score yeares and three:
And at his death gaue all his lande
Twene Porrex proude and mee.
Fiue yeares we helde it so in peace,
In reste we ruled well:
But at the last by pryde and wrath