Before which time the warres could neuer linne.

How much might better both contented binne!

For hope is sloape,[530] and hold is hard to snatche,

Where bloud embrues the hands that come to catch.

19.

Thus our ambition brewde[531] our subiects smart:

Our broyles pourde out their guiltlesse bloud on ground:

Which vile deuise of mine ambitious heart

Procured Ioue my purpose to confound.

Therefore beware yee wights whose wealths abound,