105 And now, to add more measure to your woes,
[♦] I come to tell you things sith then befall’n.
After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp,
Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run,
110 Were brought me of your loss and his depart.
I, then in London, keeper of the king,
Muster’d my soldiers, gather’d flocks of friends,
[♦] And very well appointed, as I thought,
[♦] March’d toward Saint Alban’s to intercept the queen,