To this small plot of ground two miles at most:
O woe to tell that once so great a king
Should stoope his minde vnto so small a thing,
Content to share the meanest part of many,
And yet deni’d to be possest of any.
109.
Long did we wrestle with the waues and winde,
But all in vaine we striue, for neuer more
Shall friendlesse Edward any comfort find:
Our barke distrest, her tackle rent and tore,