Aspiring honor’s height those plots to proue,
To which vaine pride the heart doth often moue,
Of which, both I, and all my progenie,
May Mirrours be to all posteritie.
32.
When Harrold had, the tearme of three yeares space,
Vpon the English throne borne supreame sway,
He dying left a name of foule disgrace,
T’obtaine true fame, he neuer gaue th’assay,
His idle life in sloth did fleet away: