44.
When first the instruments of Harrold’s ire
Did come prepar’d to rob me of my sight,
Hoping that death, which I did long desire,
Had then been sent to me, the last despight
That can be done to man in wretched plight:
These words I spake to moue remorse of mind,
While teares in plentie downe my cheeks declin’d.
45.
“Thrice happie men, if ye the tidings bring