“This prince to future time,” quoth Memorie, “Remaines a Mirrour of true charitie, Who at his death that traytour did forgiue, Whose bloodie hand did him of life depriue: But _Marchades_ for vengeance did suruiue, The traytour taken he did fley aliue: Now to the next, whom vp from graue we bring, Prince _Iohn_ the brother of the late dead king: He takes the crowne as due to him of gift, At whose good fortunes many hands do lift: _Philip_ beyond the seas inuades his lands: _Arthur_ in Aniou with his British bands, Pursues the aged mother of the king, Who to the rescue all his powers doth bring: Takes _Arthur_ captiue, and for his disdaine Sends him to Rouen castle, whence againe He nere returnes: wonders in heau’n are seene, Treason amongst the peeres, the wrathfull spleene Twixt Rome’s proud _Innocent_ and stout king _Iohn_: The French afresh inuade, the king finds none To take his part: the Irish do rebell: The Welch breake forth, both whom he doth compell To stoope their pride: the curse of _Innocent_, Against whose pride the king stands stiffely bent: _Philip’s_ huge nauie doth on England frowne, The king vnto the legate yeelds his crowne: The lords rebell, the king is left forlorne, Abus’d, reuil’d, and made his people’s scorne: Seekes th’aid of strangers, and in his fierce ire, Flies ore the kingdome like a flaming fire; The barons flie from him, and seeke to bring The French prince _Lewis_ in, to make him king: He lands in Kent, London receiues his traine, From th’haplesse king all fals away againe: The French men’s pride the English sore opprest, King _Iohn’s_ reuenge, poore England’s woes encreast: In midst of hope t’expell his enemies, The wretched king at Swynsted poysoned dies: All which, since many writers in his daies, Of very malice writ in his dispraise, That we may heare, let fame with summons call His princely ghost, to tell his tragicke fall.” ANOTHER ARGUMENT. Fame cals king _Iohn_: his grieued ghost doth wake, Comes vp from graue, and heere his turne doth take. [Illustration] 1. Discord the daughter of dissension, Home-hel-hatcht furie with bewitching charmes, Doth sooner ruine _Cæsar’s_ royall throne, Then all the imminent inuading harmes, That can inferred be by forren armes: Where people hate, and where the prince doth frowne, What might builds vp, dissension soone puls downe. 2. Of which I once that sway’d this scepter state, Vniustly wrong’d by peeres, vnkindly sold To wretched fortune by my subiects hate, A Mirror might haue been in lines of gold, If to this age my storie truth had told: But th’vnkind age presents to iudgement’s eye My shame at large, but lets my praise go by.