52.
Alas, it could not moue him any iote,
Ne[1615] make him once to rue, or wet his eye,
Stird him no more then that that stirreth not:
But as the rocke, or stone, that will not plye,
So was his heart made hard with[1616] cruelty,
To murder them: alas, I weepe in thought,
To thinke on that which this fell wretch hath wrought.
53.
That now, when hee had done the thing hee sought,