Note 501 — How Qveene Cordila in dispaire slew her selfe, The yeare before Christ, 800.

Their soules to hell, when as they vndertake To kill a corps, which God did liuely make.

Now when this desperate Queene had ended thus Hir tale, and told what haplesse grace she had: As of hir talke some pointes I did discusse, In slomber faln I waxed wondrous sad, Hir nephewes dealings were me thought to bad: Which greu’de me much, but Morpheus had let bee, And therewithall presented one to mee. Of stature tall a worthy princely wight, In countenaunce he seemde yet mourning still; His complet harnesse not so braue in sight, Nor sure as ours, made now adayes by skill: But clampt together, ioynts but ioyned ill: Vnfit, vnhandsome, heauy, houge, and plaine, Vnweldy wearing, ratling like a chaine. Wherthrough he had receu’de a deadly stroake, By sworde, or other instrument of warre, And downe his thighes the bloud by sithes did soake Which I perceiued as he came a farre. Now sith (quoth he) to heare you present are: I will declare my name, life, factes and fall, And therewith thus he gan to tell it all. ed. 1575.