“Writers,” quoth Memorie, “were much to blame Of _Iohn_, that noble prince, to speake such shame: But little credit vnto them we giue, Since they were foes to him, when he did liue: His first sonne _Henrie_, third of that same name, Did him succeed, and with his sword did tame That French prince _Lewis_, whom he forc’d by might To leaue this kingdome, due to him of right: _Edward_ his sonne, the first that bore that name Since _William’s_ conquest made, whose noble fame Shall neuer die, did in the throne succeed, And in his daies wrought many a worthie deed: Yet neither of these princes both did feele Th’inconstant course of fortune’s froward wheele: That _Edward_ of Carnaruan, third from _Iohn_, Is next in course, whom we must stay vpon: He in the first spring of his fatall raigne Recals the banisht _Gaueston_ againe, Exil’d before by his renowned sire, At whose proud taunts the peeres being set on fire, Do quench it with his blood: the angrie king Vowes his reuenge, the valiant _Breuce_ doth bring His powers into the field, and in the fight At Banokesborne turnes th’English into flight: Heau’n, dearth, and death foretels the sad euent, Which did ensue vpon the riuer Trent: The queene is sent to France the peace t’haue mou’d, Proues false, returnes againe with her belou’d: Arriues in armes, gainst whom the king craues aid, Who left forlorne, and at the last betrai’d, Imprison’d, and enforc’d by parlament, Vnto his sonne resignes the gouernment: On him depos’d, more mischiefe to inferre, His queene, the bishop, and her _Mortimer_, In darke enigma do conclude his death: And, lest that he should seeme t’expire his breath By violent hand, a torment they deuise By which the king in Bercklie castle dies: Of which that we th’vndoubted truth may haue, Let fame call vp his wronged ghost from graue.” ANOTHER ARGUMENT. Fame summons vp the king: in briefe he showes How queene, peeres, people, all did him depose. [Illustration] 1. That subtill serpent, seruile flatterie, Seldome infects the meaner man, that feares No change of state through fortune’s treacherie: She spits her poison at the mightiest peeres, And with her charmes inchants the prince’s eares: In sweetest wood the worme doth soonest breed, The caterpiller on best buds doth feed. 2. If slie dissimulation credit winne With any prince, that sits on highest throne, With honied poyson of soure sugred sinne, It causeth him turne tyrant to his owne, And to his state workes swift confusion, Aboue his cedar’s top it high doth shoot, And canker-like deuoures it to the root. 3.