Newes

Theſe newes (my Lords) may cheere our drooping ſpirits: ’Tis said, the ſtout Pariſians do reuolt, And turne againe vnto the warlike French.

This ſtrange vnwelcome and vnhappie newes, Of theſe vnnaturall Rebels and vniuſt, That threaten wracke vnto this wretched Land, Aye me affrights my womans mazed minde, Burdens my heart, and interrupts my ſleepe, That now vnleſſe ſome better tidings come, Vnto my ſonne their true annointed King.

This newes is old enough, yet it is euerie daies newes.

With what joy theſe newes were well-commed, when they came to Carthage, we may eaſily conjecture; […]