“It is,” quoth he, “my mother’s ryght to rayne,
Til dreadful death hath shred her twyst in twayne.”
37.
“I graunt my sonne, the monarchie is myne,
For at his death thy father gaue it me
For terme of life: but let it nowe be thine,
I aged must go pay the earth her fee,
I am content to liue with lesse degree:
O louing sonne, geue eare vnto my hest,
I wyl not rule, that charge for thee is best.”