Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. Where batchill death put on his vgltefl ixias To fright our parti e. Bark How doth my foune and brother? Thou trembleflgnd the whitenes in thy checke, Is apter then thy ton 0put: to tell thy arrand Euen {itch a manic gaintfo fpirritlefre, So duilfo dead in Iookefo woe begon, Drew Prisms curtaine in the dead of night, And would haue told him, halfe his Troy was burnt: But Priam found the fier, ere he, his tongue. And Lmy Percies deathtere thou reportfi it. Thisthou wouldfl fay, Your {on did thus and thus, Your brother thuszfo fought the noble Dow his, Stopping my greedy care with their bold dee es, But in the end, to flop my eareindeed, Thou hafl a {i gh to bicw away this praif’e. Ending with brother, fonnc, and all are dead.
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