In vaine, O wretched king, thy hopes haue trust On broken faithes of subiects daily fleeting: Thy lot is cast, from throne thou shalt be thrust, Thy foes shall of thy subiects at their meeting, In stead of blowes, be welcom’d with kind greeting: Thou only seek’st to keepe out th’vnkind queene, While heere at home worse dangers are vnseene. 97. Whilst now my state begins for to decline, In whom, alas, should I my trust repose? My brother _Kent_ then resident in Guine For some displeasure done to him by those 'Bout vs at home, reuolts vnto our foes: O faithlesse _Kent_, thou art the first shalt rue, That euer thou to _Edward_ wast vntrue. 98. Treason transports, what traytors looke for heere, The queen’s stout champion _Iohn_ of _Beaumont_ comes With his proud troopes, three thousand men well neere, Promis’d rich pay in ransacke of our summes, Who now aboord with trumpets and with drummes, Vrg’d by the hastie queene to launch the deepe With winde-wing’d sailes the seas soft bosome sweepe. 99. O let the windes their forward course restraine, Wing not such mischiefe to our natiue shore, Let the proud billowes beate them backe againe: Or if they needs must come, let the seas rore, Hurle them on rockes that they may neuer more Be seene in England in pretence of good, To bathe their hands in _Edward’s_ royall blood. 100. Orwell thy hauen first did let them in, Harwich with bels did welcome in their fleet: No sooner did our _Isabel_ begin To presse the sandie shore with wanton feet, But our earle marshall with his powres did greet Her safe arriue, whose part, false peere, had bin To haue oppos’d her at her entrance in. 101. The brother to that lord that lost his head, _Leister’s_ great earle did now lift vp his hand, As in reuenge of _Lancaster_ late dead, T’whom many a peere linckt in rebellious band Of grudges past, in the queene’s cause doth stand: And lest they grieue in conscience to betray Their lawfull king, the church leads them the way. 102. Herford’s proud prelate, _Torleton_, who before Conuicted was for treason gainst his king, When armes gainst vs our stubborne barons bore, Shrowded till now beneath the churche’s wing, Fled to the foes, and in his heart did bring That horrid treason hatcht before in hell, Cause of all after mischiefe that befell. 103.