Then the deare daies of her dread lord were done, The stroke of death no mortall may withstand, The kingdome _Harrold_ his ignoble sonne, The bastard did aspire, by whose command Our wretched mother was exil’d the land, And in despight despoil’d of all that store, Which her _Canute_ had giuen to her before. 14. But death’s cold touch so soone did close mine eies, That I beheld not my sad mother’s woes, The base vsurper did my death deuise Before her fall, in court soone finding those, Whom he to act my tragicke murther chose: The courts of kings with sycophants do swarme, Tyrants do want no instruments of harme. 15. An English earle there was, which _Godwin_ hight, Whose name about the world report did blaze, A man of wicked wit, in fortune’s sight So highly grac’d, that he himselfe did raise To be the greatest peere in those our daies, The king was only then a king by name, While he perform’d the office of the same, 16. And in the ruffe of his felicitie, Prickt with ambition, he began disdaine His bastard lord’s vsurp’d authoritie, Plotting by priuate counsels, how to gaine Th’emperiall garland after him to raigne: Greatnesse in sway of state giues wings t’aspire, Aduancement feeds ambition with desire. 17. In broken sleepes he did consume the night, While his liege lord lay lull’d in th’armes of shame, Hope of a kingdome was his sole delight, While _Harrold_ senselesse of all kingly fame, To idle ease himselfe did only frame, Which set th’ insulting _Godwin’s_ hopes on wing, Whence woe is me, my woes did after spring. 18. My brother and my selfe, alas, the while, Vnto his hopes to make the passage free, Were markt for death, nor could our sad exile Suffice hard fate, my wofull tragedie Must be the subiect of his treacherie, We were the obiects of proud _Godwin’s_ frowne, We only stood betwixt him and the crowne. 19. T’effect his purpose, he did soone excite The tyrant king, whose actions he did sway, To thinke, that while mine eyes beheld heau’n’s light, He liu’d in reach of danger day by day, His safetie liu’d vpon my liue’s decay: For I, he said, being of an haughtie spirit, Would seeke by might my father’s right t’inherit. 20. The bastard king to bloodie deeds inclin’d, To rob me of my life stood fully bent: Letters forthwith by messengers design’d, Forged by wicked wits for their intent, In our queene mother’s name to me were sent, Which I accepted as vnfain’d and true, The tenor of the which doth heere ensue. 21.