Where when he came, she gave command To drive him thence away: When he was well within her court, (She said) he would not stay. Then back again to Gonorel The woeful king did hie, That in her kitchen he might have What scullion boys set by. But there of that he was deny'd Which she had promis'd late For once refusing, he should not, Come after to her gate. Thus twixt his daughters for relief He wandred up and down, Being glad to feed on beggars' food That lately wore a crown. And calling to remembrance then His youngest daughters words, That said, the duty of a child Was all that love affords-- But doubting to repair to her, Whom he had ban'sh'd so, Grew frantic mad; for in his mind He bore the wounds of woe. Which made him rend his milk-white locks And tresses from his head, And all with blood bestain his cheeks, With age and honour spread. To hills and woods and watry founts, He made his hourly moan, Till hills and woods and senseless things Did seem to sigh and groan. Even thus possest with discontents, He passed o'er to France, In hopes from fair Cordelia there To find some gentler chance. Most virtuous dame! which, when she heard Of this her father's grief, As duty bound, she quickly sent Him comfort and relief. And by a train of noble peers, In brave and gallant sort, She gave in charge he should be brought To Aganippus' court; Whose royal king, with noble mind, So freely gave consent To muster up his knights at arms, To fame and courage bent. And so to England came with speed, To repossesse King Leir, And drive his daughters from their thrones By his Cordelia dear. Where she, true-hearted, noble queen, Was in the battel stain; Yet he, good king, in his old days, Possest his crown again. But when he heard Cordelia's death, Who died indeed for love Of her dear father, in whose cause She did this battle move, He swooning fell upon her breast, From whence he never parted; But on her bosom left his life That was so truly hearted. The lords and nobles, when they saw The end of these events, The other sisters unto death They doomed by consents; And being dead, their crowns they left Unto the next of kin: Thus have you seen the fall of pride, And disobedient sin. Fair Rosamond When as King Henry rulde this land, The second of that name, Besides the queene, he dearly lovde A faire and comely dame. Most peerlesse was her beautye founde, Her favour, and her face; A sweeter creature in this worlde Could never prince embrace.