DORDAN

Ne yet your father (Oh most noble Prince) Did ever think so fowl a thing of you For he with more than father's tender love While yet the fates do lend him life to rule, (Who long might live to so your ruling well) To you my Lord, and to his other son Lo he resignes his Realm and Royalty Which never would so wise a Prince have done If he had ones misdemed that in your heart There ever lodged so unkind a thought. But tender love (my Lord) and settled trust Of your good nature, and your nable mind Made him to place you thus in Royal throne And now to give you half his realm to guide Yea and that half within abounding store Of things that serve to make a wealthy Realm In stately Cities and in fruitful soil, In temperate breathing of the milder heaven, In things of needful use, which friendly Sea Transportes by traffic from the foreign Ports, In flowing wealth, in honour and in force, Does pass the double valve of the part That Porrex hath allotted to his reign, Such is your ease, such is your father's love. Ne yet he wrongeth you that giveth you So large a reign ere that the course of time Bring you to kingdom by descended right, Which time perhaps might end your time before. Alas my Lord, what griefful thing is this? That of your brother you can think so ill I never saw him utter likely sign Whereby a man might see or once misdeme Such hate of you, ne such vnyeldinge pride Ill is their counsel, shameful be their end, That raising such mistrustful fear in you, Sowing the seed of such unkindly hate, Travail by reason to destroy you both:) Wise is your brother and of noble hope, Worthy to weld a large and mighty Realm So much a stronger friend have you thereby, Whose stre ̄ gth is your stre ̄ gth, if you gree in one. Oh heaven was there ever harden or known, So wicked counsel to a noble Prince? Let me (my Lord) disclose unto your grace This heinous tale, what mischief it contains: Your father's death, your brother's and your owns your present murder and eternal shame: Hear me (Oh king) and suffer not to sink So high a treason in your Princely breast. I fear the fatal time now draws on When ciuyll hate shall end the noble line Of famous Brutus and of his Royal seed Great Jove defend the mischiefs now at hand Oh that the Secretary's wise advise Had erst been harden when he besought the King Not to divide his land, nor send his sons To further parts from presence of his Court Ne yet to yield to them his governance Lo such are they now in the Royal throne As was rash Phaeton in Phebus Car Ne then the fiery steads did draw the flame With wilder random through the kindled skies Then traitorous council now will wherle about The youthful heads of these unskilful kings, But I hereof their father will enforeme The reverence of him perhaps shall stay The growing mischiefs, while they yet are green If this help not, then woe unto them selves, The Prince, the people, the divided land.