Which fates for wretched England had decreed.
41.
Famine, forerunner to deuouring death,
Haunts euery coast, where food is to be found,
The fruits are blasted by her banefull breath,
She makes the clouds to drop, till that be drown’d,
Which plentie’s hand had hidden in the ground:
Then doth she ransacke both the rich and poore,
Deuouring all, till she can find no more.
42.