The vglie shape of sinne, heart-freez’d with cold,
Of death’s pale terror, he for mercie cries,
And begs but this, that he may but behold
Our father’s face, ere he be wrapt in mould:
Which last request our father him deni’d,
Doubting deceit in death, when Henrie di’d.
18.
My yonger brother Britaine’s Gefferie,
A partner with vs in rebellious pride,
To pay iust paines for his disloyaltie