Could not with life scape out.
He pearst my hart, what skilles it sith,
My minde was euen as bad:
For why what measure I him mente,
My selfe like measure had.
And so all such, as murder meane,
Intende, or treason vse,
Shall at the length, like ends attayne,
Or worse they cannot chuse.
[521] To tell my storie on the tragicke stage. N.