That night, whose next daie’s light did promise faire
Vnto his hopes, did end them in despaire.
45.
Heere could I tell the conquest and rich spoile,
Which for those wrongs, that we did erst sustaine,
My souldiers made on Cyprus fruitfull soile:
How false Isakius yeelding did remaine
With me in hold, and fled away againe,
Whom after taken for his trespasse past,
In guiues of gold I then did shakle fast.