So I who fyrst did cause them kil their king,
To stop their mouthes, them al to death did bring.
12.
Where rancor rules, where hatred’s heate is hot,
The hurtelesse men with trouble be turmoylde:
Where malice may send foorth her cannon shot,
There might is right, there reason’s rules are foylde:
For ruthful rancor euermore hath boylde
With griping griefe: her smuldring smokes of spite
Woulde gladly choke al iustice, lawe, and right.