For there mine onely sonne, not thirteene yeares of age,
Was tane, and murdered straight by Edward in his rage:
And shortly I my selfe, to stint all furder strife,
Stabde with his brother’s bloudy blade in prison lost my life.
39.
Lo, here the heauy haps which happened mee by heape,
See here the pleasaunt fruites that many princes reape,
The painefull plagues of those that breake theyr lawfull bandes,
Their meede which may and will not saue their friendes fro bloudy handes.
40.