O that desire of rule so much should blind The eyes of men, or that to gaine a crowne, The godlike part of man, th’immortall mind Of wrathfull heau’n should dare t’incurre the frowne, And cast it selfe from glorie headlong downe! O foule ambition, had thy guilt not stain’d This tyrant’s deeds, what glorie had he gain’d? 9. For though he from his mother’s painfull throwes, Mark’t for a plague into the world was brought; Yet with his sword gainst our Lancastrian foes In many bloodie broiles he manly fought: And by his courage high achieuements wrought, Great _Warwicke_, _Oxford_, _Clifford_, and the rest, Did finde a valiant heart in _Richard’s_ brest. 10. But where are now those deedes, or who can say That they with praise doe glorifie his name? How can he euer hope to wipe away Those spots of blood vpon the face of fame, Making his deeds to blush at his owne shame? What deedes of fame he did are not his owne, His euill deeds remaine to him alone. 11. With their shed blood thy lines I will not staine, Whom wrackt by troops to graue his hand did send, To him in his succeeding tragicke straine, The sad report thereof I doe commend: Enough it is to tell of our owne end, To which I will proceede, first setting downe The plots our vncle vs’d t’obtaine the crowne. 12. When on the throne my kingly father sat, All noise of warre new husht, euen in the greene Of peace late growne discord did set debate Betweene the kindred of our mother queene, And twixt the peeres, who with malignant spleene, Did swell to see them fauor’d of the king, From whence our future ruine first did spring. 13. On this, as on a platforme firme and sure, _Gloster_ did build his hopes for future daies: Yet England’s _Edward_ hoping to procure Peace twixt both parts, did seeke by oft assaies T’appease the strife, which priuie hate did raise: And at his death did cause them each to other To giue their faith, as brother vnto brother. 14. The king scarse dead, from London swift report With mischiefe at her heeles, or’e hedge and heath To Ludlowe came, where then we kept our court, And there with pallid lookes, halfe out of breath, She tels the tidings of our father’s death, Bidding me now beware vnhappie fate, And looke about in this new change of state. 15.