And tell me who is victor Yorke or Warwike?
Why aske I that? my mangled bodie shewes,
That I must yeeld my bodie to the earth.
5 And by my fall the conquest to my foes,
Thus yeelds the Cedar to the axes edge,
Whose armes gaue shelter to the princelie Eagle,
[♦] Vnder whose shade the ramping Lion slept,
Whose top branch ouerpeerd Ioues spreading tree.
10 The wrinkles in my browes now fild with bloud,
Were likened oft to kinglie sepulchers.