Of which prince Alfred, whom would I had neuer
Betray’d to death, a Mirrour liues for euer.
28.
The maner of whose death I shame to tell,
Such was the cruell torment of the same,
And such the noble vertues, that did dwell
In th’heart of that sweet prince, whose liuing name
To all posteritie records my shame,
The more his vertues were, whose blood I spilt,
Remorselesse wretch, the greater was my guilt.