He being dead, to me his eldest borne, Was left the reliques of a ruin’d state, By rage of Mars a kingdome rent and torne, A diademe by sterne decree of fate Ordain’d for prize of bloodie warre’s debate, Which was the end, for which _Canute_ and I In martial field did many a battell trie. 19. O wretched end of glorie thirsting pride! O vaine pursuit of empire and renowne! What lot the land of discord doth betide But wastfull spoile and all turn’d topsie downe? What doe we purchase but a carefull crowne? A crowne of care, the cause of froward strife, The cause for which I lost my loued life. 20. For after that against th’inuading foe Six bloodie battailes I had fought in field, I that in warre away did victor goe, On whom (O England) thou thy hopes didst build, Vanquish’t in peace to death was forc’d to yeeld: The chance of warre my chance could not apall, But trust in traytors wrought my wretched fall. 21. When as the crowne my head did first adorne, These thoughts vnto my selfe, I thus did frame: Vnto my selfe I am not onlie borne, My countrie deare the cheefest part doth claime, Who to my care now kneeles and craues the same, To saue the remnant of her ruin’d soile From cruell foes that threat her vtter spoile. 22. The thought of this did spirit bold inspire, And smart of wounds receiu’d from foes of late Did with swift furie feather my desire, Which of itself by nature’s gifts did hate To linger time, deferring vtmost fate In doubtfull chance of battaile to be tride, For which I was surnam’d, hight _Ironside_. 23. This fire of expedition in affaires And height of resolution t’vndergoe, Compar’d to strength of limbes and restlesse cares, Redoubled in my thoughts t’oppugne the foe, And yeeld releefe to England in her woe, Did touch _Canutus_ hart with feare, though bent To trie his fortunes in the warre’s euent. 24. Distracted thus with doubt, in any place By doubtfull fight t’ingage his hopefull fate, False _Edrick_ hoping for to purchase grace, Who for his treason to my sire of late, Had run in danger of my deadlie hate, Did plot the downfall of mine emperie, And in the end did act my tragedie. 25. From prince _Canutus_ campe in dead of night, Like the Greekes subtile _Synon_, to effect His wicked plot, to vs he tooke his flight, And at our feete himselfe he did proiect, And spake, as if his thoughts had no respect To his owne life: for he with craftie wile Of seeming sorrow thus did me beguile. 26.