Of happie death my dolefull daies to end,
From whose long houres my lasting death doth spring,
This last request to you I do commend,
That pitying my sad plaints, you may befriend
My wretched soule with quicke dispatch in death,
And not with torture, when I yeeld my breath.
46.
Behold this bodie pin’d away with woe,
This starued carkas in such rufull plight,
That who, alas, can poore prince Alfred know,