Derricke's The Image of Irelande (1581) - Print 11

This rebell ſtoute, in traytrous ſorte, that roſe agaynſt his Prince,
And ſought by bloudy broyles of warre, her ſcepter to conuince:
So long as fortune did ſupport, his deuiliſh enterprice.
So long ambition blinded quight, his Karnyſh knauiſh eyes,
And moude him proudly to uſurpe, the title not his owne.
As one that might enioy the fruite, which other men had ſowne.
But when his miſtres did reuoke, her former goode ſucceſſe,
And left the roge in greeuous bandes, of ſore and deepe diſtreſſe:
He then bewaylde his former lyfe, and pagentes playde in uayne,
Repentyng that her highnes lawes, he held in ſuch diſdayne:
But all to late his folly ſought, his grief for to recure,
When that agaynſt his will, he muſt her heauy ſtroke endure:
For though at firſt he founde ſucceſſe, (the ſweet once paſt came ſowre)
And ouerthrew his glorious ſtate, in minute of an houre:
So as his raigne endurde not long, but tombled in the myre,
Because he ſinde in that he moude, our noble Queene to ire:
O lamentable thyng to ſee, ambition clyme ſo high,
When ſuperſtitious pride ſhall fall, in twynckling of an eye:
For ſuch is euery rebeles ſtate, and euermore hath bene,
And let them neuer better ſpeede, that ryse agaynſt our Queene.

This rebel stout, in traitorous sort, that rose against his Prince,
And sought by bloody broils of war, her sceptre to convince;
So long as fortune did support, his devilish enterprise.
So long ambition blinded quit, his Kernish knavish eyes,
And made him proudly to usurp, the title not his own.
As one that might enjoy the fruit, which other men had sown.
But when his mistress did revoke, her former good success,

And left the rouge in grievous bands of sore and deep distress;
He then bewailed his former life, and pageants played in vain,
Repenting that her highness' laws, he held in such disdain;
But all too late his folly sought, his grief for to recur,
When that against his will, he must her heavy stroke endure;
For though at first he found success, (the sweet once past came sour)
And overthrew his glorious state, in minute of an hour;

So as his reign endured not long, but tumbled in the mire,
Because he sinned in that he made, our noble Queen to ire:
O lamentable thing to see, ambition climb so high,
When superstitious pride shall fall, in twinkling of an eye:
For such is every rebel's state, and evermore has been,
And let them never better speed, that rise against our Queen.

Ve mihi misero ("Woe to miserable me")
Ve atque dolor ("Woe and sorrow")

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