Yet[1649] after this, yet pray I more, thou may Thy second sonne see drowned in a dyke, And in such sort to close his later day, As heard or seene erst hath not been the like: Ystrangled in a puddle, not halfe[1650] so deepe As halfe a foote, that such hard losse of life, So cruelly chaunst, may bee the[1651] greater griefe. 101. And not yet shall thy hugie[1652] sorrowes ceasse, Ioue shall not so witholde his wrath, from thee, But that thy plagues may more and more encrease, Thou shalt still liue, that thou thy selfe maist see Thy deare daughter stroken with leprosye:[1653] That shee, that erst was all thy whole delight, Thou now mayst loth to haue her come in sight. 102. And after that, let shame and sorrowes griefe Feede forth thy yeares continually in woe, That thou maist lieue in death, and dye in life, And in this sort forwaylde and weried so, At last thy ghost to part thy body fro: This pray I, Ioue, and with this later breath, Vengaunce I aske vpon my cruell death.” 103. This sayde, he flong his retchlesse armes abroade, And, groueling, flat vpon the grounde he laye, Which with his teeth hee all to gnasht and gnawde, Deepe groanes hee fet, as hee that would awaye: But, loe, in vayne hee did the death assay: Although I thinke was neuer man that knewe Such deadly paynes, where death did not ensue. 104. So stroue hee thus a while as with the death, Now pale as leade, and cold as any stone, Now still as calme, now storming forth a breath Of smoky sighes, as breath and all were gone: But euery thing hath end: so hee anone Came to himselfe, when, with a sigh outbrayed, With woefull chere, these woefull words hee sayed: 105. “Ah, where am I, what thing, or whence is this? Who reft my wits? or how doe I thus lye? My lyms do quake, my thought agasted is, Why sigh I so? or whereunto do I Thus grovle[1654] on the grounde?” and by and by Upraysde hee stoode, and with a sigh hath stayde, When to himselfe retourned thus hee sayde: 106. “Suffiseth now this playnt and this regrete, Whereof my heart his bottom hath vnfraught: And of my death let peeres and princes wete The world’s vntrust, that they thereby be taught: And in her wealth, sith that such chaunge is wrought, Hope not too much, but in the mids of all Thinke on my death, and what may them befall. 107.