And at it with wit’s best direction aime,
Rise to it royally from honor’s bed,
Iustly deserue it for thy deeds of fame:
Yet shall thy carefull brow nere beare the same,
If thou in that star-text of euery thing
Foredoom’d for fate, be not inrol’d a king.
3.
Of which that thou a lasting Mirror haue,
Behold me heere a wretched prince of yore,
To whom true birth a crowne and kingdome gaue,