1.Great ruth that such a noble conqueroure,Should haue so hard and infamous an end,Which of the worlde might haue bene Emperour,If all be true that storyes him commend:But where is Fortune permanent a frend?Shee blyndely baytes and bathes her Impes in blisse,Who trustes her still I count ill fortune his.2.GaleriusandFlorianusstoute,AndIulianofRomethe Emperours,AndDiocesianeofConstantinein doubte,Though in their times full worthy warriours,So counted often noble conquerours,They slewe themselues, abated from their blisse:Which who so doth I count ill fortune his.3.Cordilaslewe her selfe in prison pent,AndDidoforÆneasflight away,ThatIudaswhich betrayde the innocent,AndPontius Pilatewrought their owne decay:What neede I here on desperate captiues staye?Sith who so bathes in flickering Fortune’s blisse,Without God’s grace I count ill fortune his.4.The warres haue prosperde well with Princes oft,Yet best with such who vertue sought alone,The rest, which onely werde to wende aloft,Were euer foylde confounded by their fone:But here I cease, the next full woe begone,With rented corps appeard deuoyde of blisse;Recounting thus that haplesse ende of his.
1.Great ruth that such a noble conqueroure,Should haue so hard and infamous an end,Which of the worlde might haue bene Emperour,If all be true that storyes him commend:But where is Fortune permanent a frend?Shee blyndely baytes and bathes her Impes in blisse,Who trustes her still I count ill fortune his.2.GaleriusandFlorianusstoute,AndIulianofRomethe Emperours,AndDiocesianeofConstantinein doubte,Though in their times full worthy warriours,So counted often noble conquerours,They slewe themselues, abated from their blisse:Which who so doth I count ill fortune his.3.Cordilaslewe her selfe in prison pent,AndDidoforÆneasflight away,ThatIudaswhich betrayde the innocent,AndPontius Pilatewrought their owne decay:What neede I here on desperate captiues staye?Sith who so bathes in flickering Fortune’s blisse,Without God’s grace I count ill fortune his.4.The warres haue prosperde well with Princes oft,Yet best with such who vertue sought alone,The rest, which onely werde to wende aloft,Were euer foylde confounded by their fone:But here I cease, the next full woe begone,With rented corps appeard deuoyde of blisse;Recounting thus that haplesse ende of his.
1.
Great ruth that such a noble conqueroure,Should haue so hard and infamous an end,Which of the worlde might haue bene Emperour,If all be true that storyes him commend:But where is Fortune permanent a frend?Shee blyndely baytes and bathes her Impes in blisse,Who trustes her still I count ill fortune his.
Great ruth that such a noble conqueroure,
Should haue so hard and infamous an end,
Which of the worlde might haue bene Emperour,
If all be true that storyes him commend:
But where is Fortune permanent a frend?
Shee blyndely baytes and bathes her Impes in blisse,
Who trustes her still I count ill fortune his.
2.
GaleriusandFlorianusstoute,AndIulianofRomethe Emperours,AndDiocesianeofConstantinein doubte,Though in their times full worthy warriours,So counted often noble conquerours,They slewe themselues, abated from their blisse:Which who so doth I count ill fortune his.
GaleriusandFlorianusstoute,
AndIulianofRomethe Emperours,
AndDiocesianeofConstantinein doubte,
Though in their times full worthy warriours,
So counted often noble conquerours,
They slewe themselues, abated from their blisse:
Which who so doth I count ill fortune his.
3.
Cordilaslewe her selfe in prison pent,AndDidoforÆneasflight away,ThatIudaswhich betrayde the innocent,AndPontius Pilatewrought their owne decay:What neede I here on desperate captiues staye?Sith who so bathes in flickering Fortune’s blisse,Without God’s grace I count ill fortune his.
Cordilaslewe her selfe in prison pent,
AndDidoforÆneasflight away,
ThatIudaswhich betrayde the innocent,
AndPontius Pilatewrought their owne decay:
What neede I here on desperate captiues staye?
Sith who so bathes in flickering Fortune’s blisse,
Without God’s grace I count ill fortune his.
4.
The warres haue prosperde well with Princes oft,Yet best with such who vertue sought alone,The rest, which onely werde to wende aloft,Were euer foylde confounded by their fone:But here I cease, the next full woe begone,With rented corps appeard deuoyde of blisse;Recounting thus that haplesse ende of his.
The warres haue prosperde well with Princes oft,
Yet best with such who vertue sought alone,
The rest, which onely werde to wende aloft,
Were euer foylde confounded by their fone:
But here I cease, the next full woe begone,
With rented corps appeard deuoyde of blisse;
Recounting thus that haplesse ende of his.