And thus shee spake:
28.
“O out, ahlas! my sonnes, what meanes this broyle?
Will you in feelde my tender bowels harme?
What furies force you thus t’unkindly toile?
What meane your men for slaughter here to swarme?
Did not this wombe once both inclose you warme?
And cannot now all Britayne hold you brethren twaine,
But needes by one of you his brother must bee slaine?
29.