The newes of this new innouation made, And of the aliens lately set on land, With terrour doth my fainting heart inuade: All holds about vs readie open stand, To yeeld possession ere the foes demand: Whose first smal troope now made a mightie force, Into the land they take their forward course. 104. London denies to lend her sou’raigne aid, To whom inforc’d at length to bid adew, As doubting there to foes to be betrai’d, With both the _Spencers_ vnto Wales I flew, There by some powre my hopes yet to renue, Hoping amongst the Welch more faith to find, T’whom from my youth I had been euer kind. 105. But thus forsaken, whither shal I run? Where shall I shadow me with safetie’s wing? Since that a wife, a brother, and a sonne, Pursues a husband, father and a king: Pitie, adew, my wrong shall neuer wring Remorse from others: Wales conspires my woe, And with false England turnes vnto my foe. 106. Pursu’d on euery hand, and forc’d to flie My natiue soile to shun death’s dangerous dart, My fortunes on the surging seas to trie In a poore barke, from England we depart To th’ile of Lunday with an heauie heart, Whom from the maine land Seuerne doth diuide, In which we hope in safetie to abide. 107. But eu’n that little good doth seas denie, With angrie looke the heau’ns behold the maine, Gust after gust the winged winds do flie Vpon the waues, who puft with proud disdaine, Will vs deuoure or driue vs backe againe: As if too much they thought that little land For him that late had kingdomes at command. 108. Remorselesse waues haue we a kingdome lost, And yet our barke do ye denie to bring To this small plot of ground two miles at most: O woe to tell that once so great a king Should stoope his minde vnto so small a thing, Content to share the meanest part of many, And yet deni’d to be possest of any. 109. Long did we wrestle with the waues and winde, But all in vaine we striue, for neuer more Shall friendlesse _Edward_ any comfort find: Our barke distrest, her tackle rent and tore, At length arriues vpon Glamorgan shore, Where _Spencer_, _Baldocke_, _Reding_, markt for death, Go all with me t’a castle called Neath. 110. With vaine suppose of safetie in that hold, While there in secret we our selues repose To the lords _Zouch_ and _Leister_ we are sold, Who by rich gifts often corrupting those That our vnknowne abode could best disclose, With violent hands do sease their wished pray, And beare vs thence each one a seuerall way. 111.