“Ten thowsand times adue, my Sabrine small.”
21.
And as the cruell caytiffes came to take
Her vp, to cast and drowne her in the floud,
I fast mine armes about her clipt did make,
And cry’d, “O Queene let mercy meeke thy moode,
Doe rather reaue my heart of vitall bloud,
Then thus I liue:” with that they slakt my hold,
And drencht my mother in the waters cold.
22.