Of which I once that sway’d this scepter state,
Vniustly wrong’d by peeres, vnkindly sold
To wretched fortune by my subiects hate,
A Mirror might haue been in lines of gold,
If to this age my storie truth had told:
But th’vnkind age presents to iudgement’s eye
My shame at large, but lets my praise go by.
3.
To whom shall I my many wrongs complaine?
Since false traditions of those enuious times,