IV.
Queen Elizabeth's Verses, While Prisoner At Woodstock.
WRIT WITH CHARCOAL ON A SHUTTER.
These verses are preserved by Hentzner, in that part of his Travels, which has
been reprinted in so elegant a manner at Strawberry-Hill. In Hentzner's book they
were wretchedly corrupted, but are here given as amended by his ingenious editor.
The old orthography, and one or two ancient readings of Hentzner's copy are here
restored.
OH, Fortune! how thy restlesse wavering state
Hath fraught with cares my troubled witt
Witnes this present prisonn, wither fate
Could beare[1] me, and the joys I quit.
Thus causedst the guiltie to be losed
From bandes, wherein are innocents inclosed:
Causing the guiltles to be straite reserved,
And freeing those that death hath well deserved.
But by her envie can be nothing wroughte,
So God send to my foes all they have thoughte.
A.D. MDLV. ELIZABETHE, PRISONNER.
NOTES
1.Could beare, is an ancient idiom, equivalent todid bearorhath borne. See below
theBeggar of Bednal Green, ver. 57, Could say.