The forlorne ladie of this noble Ile,
From towring state cast downe by foes despight,
And of an empresse, which I was ere while,
Of Saxon yoke now made a subiect vile:
What bootes it what I was, sith now I am
The scorne of fortune and the Briton’s shame?
20.
O, noble prince, vnsheath thy conquering blade
And saue that little, which is left to mee,
Left not for aye my antient glorie vade,