What praise were it to him, though I you told Of Darius, and a hundred thousand mo’, Of kingës, princes, dukes, and earlës bold, Which he conquér’d, and brought them into woe? I say, as far as man may ride or go, The world was his, why should I more devise? 4179 For, though I wrote or told you evermo’, Of his knighthood it mightë not suffice.

Twelve years he reigned, as saith Maccabee; Philippe’s son of Macedon he was, That first was king in Greecë the countrý. O worthy gentle 4180 Alexander, alas That ever should thee fallë such a case! Empoison’d of thine owen folk thou were; Thy six 4181 Fortúne hath turn’d into an ace, And yet for thee she weptë never a tear.