Farewell, farewell, to mourne will not preuayle,
I see with Knife where Atropos doth stand:
Farewell my friendes, my children and my land,
And farewell all my subiectes, farewell breath,
Farewell ten thowsand times, and welcome death.”
71.
And euen with that hee turnde himselfe asyde,
Vpyeelding, gasping gaue[213] away the ghost:
Then all with mourning voyce his seruantes cry’d,[214]
And all his subiectes eke, from least to most,