The barrons vvars in the raigne of Edward the second. VVith Englands heroicall epistles. By Michael Drayton Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. 1603 Approx. 615 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 207 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A20811 STC 7189 ESTC S109887 99845530 99845530 10435 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A20811) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 10435) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 923:04) The barrons vvars in the raigne of Edward the second. VVith Englands heroicall epistles. By Michael Drayton Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. England's heroical epistles. aut Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. Idea. aut Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. Mortimeriados. [8], 144, 149-159, [5] p.; 103, [17] leaves Printed by I[ames] R[oberts] for N. Ling, At London : 1603. In verse. Part 1 is an extensively revised version of "Mortimeriados". Part 2 is a reissue, with quire A cancelled, of the 1602 edition of "Englands heroicall epistles". It includes the sonnet sequence "Idea". Printer's name from STC. Reproduction of the original in Harvard University. Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. 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Great Britain -- History -- Edward II, 1307-1327 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. 2000-00 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2001-12 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-01 TCP Staff (Michigan) Sampled and proofread 2002-01 TCP Staff (Michigan) Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion THE BARRONS WARS in the raigne of Edward the second . VVITH ENGLANDS Heroicall Epistles . ¶ By Michaell Drayton . AT LONDON , Printed by I. R. for N. Ling. 1603. To the worthy and his most honored friend Ma. VValter Aston . I vvill not striue m' invention to inforce , vvith needlesse words your eyes to entertaine , T' obserue the formall ordinarie course That euery one so vulgarly doth faine , Our interchanged and deliberate choice , Is with more firme and true election sorted , Then stands in censure of the common voyce , That with light humor fondly is transported , Nor take I patterne of anothers praise , Then what my pen may constantly avow , Nor walke more publique , nor obscurer waies Then vertue bids , and iudgement will alow ; So shall my loue , and best endeuours serue you , And still shall studie , still so to deserue you . Michaell Drayton : To the Reader . The Quadrin doth neuer double , or to vse a word of Heraldrie , neuer bringeth foorth Gemells . The Quinzain too soone . The Sestin hath Twinnes in the base , but they detaine not the Musicke , nor the Cloze ( as Musitions terme it ) long enough for an Epick Poem ; The stanza of seauen is touched before ; This of eight both holds the tune cleaue through to the base of the columne ( which is the couplet at the foote or bottom ) & closeth not but with a full satisfaction to the eare for so long detention . Briefely , this sort of stanza hath in it maiestie , perfection , & soliditie , resembling the piller which in Architecture is called the Tuscan , whose shaft is of sixe diameters , & bases of two . The other reasons this place will not beare , but generally all stanzas are in my opinion but tyrants , and torturers , when they make inuention obey theyr number , which sometime would otherwise scantle it selfe . A fault that great Maisters in this Art striue to auoyde . Concerning the deuision which I vse in this Poem , I am not ignorant that antiquitie hath vsed to distinguish workes into Bookes , and euery one to beare the number of theyr order , Homers Iliads , and Vlysiads indeede are distinguished by seuerall letters of the Greeke Alphabet , as all the world knowes , and not by the numerall letters onely , which to Iota are digit , and afterward compound , the Alpha beeing our vnit , for the Greekes had no figures nor cyphers in their Arithmeticke . Virgils AEneis , Statius Thebais , Silius worke of the Carthagenian war , Illyricus Argonauticks , Vidas Christeis , are all deuided into books . The Italians vse Cantos , & so our first late great Reformer Ma. Spenser , that I assume another name for the sections in this volum cannot be disgratious , nor vnauowable . Lastly , if I haue not already exceeded the length of an Epistle , I am to intreat , that he who wil ( as any man may that wil ) make himselfe a party to this of ours , would be pleased to remēber that Spartan Prince who beeing found by certaine Embassadors playing among his children , requested them to forbeare to censure til also they had some of their owne . To such I giue a sample power and priuiledge as euer Ius liberorum could in Rome , crauing backe againe at their hands by a regrant , the like of that which I impart , for great reason there is that they should vndergoe the licence which themselues challenge , & suffer that in their fames which they would wrongly put vpon others , according to the most indifferent law of the Talio . Fare you well . To Ma. Michaell Drayton . WHat ornament might I deuise to fit Th' aspiring height of thy admired spirit ? Or what faire Garland worthy is to sit On thy blest browes , that compasse in all merit ? Thou shalt not crowned be with common Bayes , Because for thee it is a crowne too low , Apolloes tree can yeeld thee simple prayse , It is too dull a vesture for thy brow ; But with a wreath of starres shalt thou be crown'd , vvhich when thy working temples doe sustaine , vvill like the Spheares be euer moouing round , After the royall musick of thy braine . Thy skill doth equall Phoebus , not thy birth , He to heauen giues musick , thou to earth . Thomas Greene. To Ma. Michaell Drayton . THose painfull wits , which natures depth admire , And view the causes of vnconstant strife , Doe tremble least the Vniuerse expire Through lasting iarres , the enemies of life , On earthly signes let not such Sages looke , Nor on the cleere aspects of hopefull starres , But learne the worlds continuance from thy booke , vvhich frames past Natures force eternall warres ; vvherein the Muses shewing perfect glory , Adorne it so with gracefull harmonie , That all the acts of this lamented storie , Seeme not perform'd for peoples liberty . Nor through the awe of an imperious King , But that thy verses their deepe wounds might sing . Iohn Beumont . THE FIRST BOOKE of the Barrons warres . The Argument . The grieuous plagues , and the prodigious signes That this great warre and slaughter doe foreshow , Th' especiall cause the Barronage combines , The Queenes strong griefe , whence many troubles grow , The time by course vnto our fall inclines , And how each country doth to battell goe ; VVhat cause to yeeld , the Mortimers pretend , And their commitment perfecting the end . 1 THe bloody factions , and rebellious pride Of a strong nation , whose vnmanag'd might Them from their naturall Soueraigne did diuide , Their due subiection , and his lawfull right , VVhom their light error loosely doth misguide , Vrg'd by lewd Minions tyrannous despight ; Me from soft layes , and tender loues doth bring , Of dreadfull fights , and horred warres to sing . 2 VVhat hellish furie poysned your hie blood , Or should bewitch you with accursed charmes , That by pretending of the generall good , Rashly extrudes you to tumultuous armes , And from the safety wherein late you stood , Reft of all taste , and feeling of your harmes , That Fraunce and Belgia with affrighted eyes , vvere sad beholders of your miseries . 3 Th'inueterate ranckor in their boosoms bred , vvho for their charter wag'd a former war , Or through your vaines , this raging venom spred , vvhose next-succeeding Nephewes now you are , Or that hote gore your bowes in conquest shed , Hauing enlarg'd your countries bounds so far , Ensigne to ensigne furiously oppose , vvith blades of Bilbo dealing English blowes . 4 O thou the great director of my Muse , On whose free bounty all my powers depend , Into my breast a sacred fire infuse , Rauish my spirit this great worke to attend ; Let the still night my laboured lines peruse , That when my Poems gaine their wished end , They whose sad eyes shall read this tragique story , In my weake hand shall see thy might and glory . 5 VVhat care would plot , discentions quickly crosse , vvhich like an earthquake rends the tottering state , By which abroade we beare a publique losse , Betrayd at home by meanes of priuate hate ; vvhilst vs these strange calamities doe tosse , ( The daily nurse of mutinous debate ) Confusion still our Countries peace confounds , No helpe at hand , and mortall all our wounds . 6 Thou Church then swelling in thy mightinesse , Tending the care and safety of the ●oule ; O nurse not factions flowing in excesse , That vvith thy members shouldst theyr griefe condole , In thee rests power this outrage to represse , vvhich might thy zeale , and sanctitie enrole , Come thou in purenes meekely with the word , Lay not thy hand to the vnhallowed sword . 7 Blood-thirsting warre arising first from Hell , And in progression ceazing on this I le , vvhere it before neere forty yeeres did dwell , And with pollution horribly defile , By which so many a worthy English fell , By our first Edward banished awhile , Transferd by fortune to the Scottish meare , To ransack that , as it had rauin'd heere . 8 VVhere houering still vvith inauspicious vvings About the verge of th●se distempered climes , Returning now , new error hether brings , To stir vs vp to these disastrous crimes , vveakeneth our power by oft diminishings ; And taking hold on these vnsetled times , Forcing our frailty sensually at length , Crackt the stiffe nerues that knit our auncient strength . 9 vvhose frightfull vision , at the first approach , vvith violent madnes strooke that desperate age , So many sundry miseries abroach , Giuing full speede to their vnbrideled rage That did our auncient libertie encroach , And in these stronge conspiracies ingage , The worthiest blood the subiects losse to bring , By innaturall wrongs vnto their naturall king . 10 VVhen in the North whilst horror yet was young These dangerous seasons swiftly comming on , vvhilst o're our heads portentious meteours hung , And in the skyes sterne Comets brightly shone , Prodigious births oft intermixt among , Such as before to times had beene vnknowne , In bloody issues forth the earth doth breake , vveeping for vs , whose woes it could not speake . 11 vvhen by the ranknes of contagious ayre , A mortall plague inuadeth man and beast , vvhich soone disperst , and raging euery where In doubt the same too quickly should haue ceast , More to confirme the certaintie of feare By cruell famine haplesly encreast ; As though the heauens in their remisful doome , Tooke those best lou'd from worset dayes to come . 12 The leuell course that we propose to goe Now to th' intent you may more plainly see , And that we euery circumstance may show The state of things , and truly what they be , And with what skill , or proiect we bestow , As our accurrents happen in degree . From these portents we now diuert our view , To bring to birth the horrors that ensue . 13 The calling backe of banisht Gaueston , Gainst which the Barrons were to Longshanks sworne , That insolent lasciuious Minion , A Soueraignes blemish , and a countries scorne , The signiories , and great promotion , Him in his lawlesse courses to subborne , Stirres vp that hatefull and outragious strife , That cost ere long so many an English life . 14 O worthy Lacy , hadst thou spar'd that breath vvhich shortly after nature thee deny'd , To Lancaster deliuered at thy death , To whom thy onely daughter was affy'd , That this sterne warre too quickly publisheth , To ayde the Barrons gainst that Minions pride , Thy Earldoms , lands , and titles of renowne , Had not so soone returnd vnto the Crowne . 15 The Lordships Bruse vnto the Spensers past , Crossing the Barrons vehement desire , As from Ioues hand that fearefull lightning cast , vvhen fifty townes lay spent in enuious fire , Alas too vaine and prodigall a wast ; The strong effect of theyr conceiued ire , Vrging the weake King with a violent hand , T' abiure those false Lords from the troubled land . 16 VVhen the fayre Queene that progressing in Kent , Lastly deny'd her entrance into Leeds , vvhom Badlesmere vnkindly doth preuent vvho gainst his Soueraigne in this course proceeds , As adding further to this discontent , One of the springs which this great mischiefe feeds , Heaping on rage and horror more and more , To thrust on that , which went too fast before . 17 VVhich more and more , a kingly rage increast , Moou'd with the wrongs of Gaueston disgraded , vvhich had so long beene setled in his breast , That all his powers it wholy had inuaded , Giuing the Spensers an assured rest , By whom his reasons chiefly are perswaded , By whose lewd counsels he is onely led , To leaue his true Queene , and his lawfull bed . 18 That now herselfe who while she stood in grace , Applied her powers these disoords to appease vvhen yet confusion had not fully place , Nor former times so dangerous as these , A party now in theyr afflicted case , A willing hand to his destruction layes , That time whose soft palme heales the wound of warre , May cure the soare , but neuer close the scarre . 19 In all this heate his greatnes first began The serious subiect of our sadder vaine , Braue Mortimer , that euer-matchlesse man , Of the old Heroes great and God-like straine , For whom invention dooing best it can , His weight of honour hardly can sustaine , Bearing his name immortaliz'd and hie , vvhen he in earth vnnumbred times shall lie . 20 That vncle now ( whose name this Nephew bare , The onely comfort of the wofull Queene ) vvho from his cradle held him as his care , In whom the hope of that great name was seene , For this young Lord now wisely doth prepare vvhilst yet this deepe hart-goaring wound is greene , And on this faire aduantage firmly wrought , To place him highly in her princely thought . 21 At whose deliberate , and vnusuall byrth , The heauens were said to counsell to retire , And in aspects of happines and mirth , Breath'd him a spirit insatiatly t' aspire , That tooke no mixture of the ponderous earth , But all comprest of cleere ascending fire , So well made vp , that such an one as he , Ioue in a man like Mortimer would be . 22 The temper of that nobler moouing part , vvith such rare purenes rectified his blood , Raysing the powers of his resolued hart , Too proud to be lockt vp within a flood , That no misfortune possibly could thwart ; vvhich from the natiue greatnes where it stood , Euen by the vertue of a piercing eye , Shew'd that his pitch was boundlesse as the sky . 23 VVorthy the grand-child of so great a Lord , vvho whilst first Edward fortunately raign'd , Reedifi'd great Arthurs auncient boord , The seate at goodly Kennelworth ordain'd , The order of old Knighthood there restor'd , To which a hundreth duly appertain'd vvith all the grace , & beauties of a Court , As best became that braue and martiall sport . 24 The hart-swolne Lords with fury set on fire , vvhō Edwards wrongs to vengeance still prouoke vvith Lancaster & Hartfoord now conspire No more to beare the Spensers seruile yoke . And thus whilst all a mutuall change desire , The auncient bonds of their allegeance broke , Resolu'd with blood their liberty to buy , And in this quarrell vow'd to liue and dye . 25 VVhat priuiledge hath our free birth say they , Or in our blood what vertue doth remaine , To each lasciuious Minion made a pray , That vs , and our nobilitie disdaine , vvhilst they tryumphing boast of our decay ; Either those spirits we doe not now retaine That were our fathers , or by fate we fall Both from their greatnes , liberty and all . 26 Honour deiected from that soueraigne state , From whence at first it challenged a beeing , Now prostitute to infamy and hate , As with it selfe in all things disagreeing , So out of order , disproportionate From her faire course preposterously flying , vvhilst others as themselues , and onely wee Are not held those we would but seeme to be . 27 Then to what end hath our great conquest seru'd , Those acts achieued by the Norman sword , Our Charters , patents , or our deeds reseru'd , Our offices , and tytles to record , The crests that on our monuments are caru'd , If they to vs no greater good affoord ? Thus doe they murmur euery one apart , vvith many a vext foule , many a grieued hart . 28 VVhilst this sad Queene to depth of sorrow throwne , vvherein she wastes her flower of youth away , Beyond beliefe to all but heauen vnknowne , This quickning sparke , where yet it buried lay , By the sharpe breath of desperate faction blowne , Conuerts her long night to the wished day , The wofull winter of misfortune cheering , As the darke world at the bright sunnes appearing . 29 Yet ill perplex'd amid these hard extreames , All meanes deprest her safety to preferre , Depriu'd of those late comfortable beames , vvhose want might m●ke her the more easly erre , Her hopes relinquish'd like deceitfull dreames , vvhich in her breast such sundry passions stirre , vvhere strugling which each other should controule , vvorke strange confusion in her troubled soule . 30 That now disabled of all soueraigne state That to her graces rightly did belong , To be reiected , and repudiate , So true a Lady , goodly , faire , and young , vvhich with more feruor still doth intimate Her too-deepe-setled , and invetterate wrong , vvhat wisedome would , a womans will denies , vvith arguments of her indignities . 31 VVhen to effect the angry Fates pursue In heauens high Court that long time did depend , vvhen these full mischiefes to a ripenes grew , And now the haruest hastning in the end , And all these lynes into one center drew , vvhich way so e're they seemingly extend ; All these together in proportion layd , Each breath of hope , a gale of certaine ayde . 32 Now is time when Mortimer doth enter , Of great imployment in this tragick act , His youth and courage boldly bid him venter , And tell him still how strongly he w●● backt ; And at this instant in due season sent her , vvhen the straight course to her desire is tract , ( And but vppon more certainty doth stay ) By a direct , what though a dangerous way . 33 This dreadfull Commet drew her wondring eye , vvhich now began his golden head to reare , vvhose glorious fixure in so faire a sky , Strikes the beholder with a chilly feare , And in a Region eleuate and hie , And by the forme wherein it did appeare , As the most skilfull seriously diuine , Foreshew'd a kingdome shortly to decline . 34 Yet still recoyling at the Spensers power , As often check'd with their intemperate pride , Th'vnconstant Barrons wauering euery howre , The fierce encounter of this boysterous tide , That easily might theyr liuelihood deuoure , Had she not those that skilfully could guide , Shee from suspition craftily retires , Carelesse in shew , of what she most desires . 35 Dissembling griefe , as one that knew not ill , So can she rule the greatnes of her mind , As a most perfect Rectoresse of her will , Aboue the vsuall weakenes of her kind ; For all this storme , immouable and still , Her secret drift the wisest misse to find ; Nor will she know what ( yet ) these factions meant , vvith a pleasd eye to sooth sad discentent . 36 The least suspition cunningly to heale , Still in her lookes humility she beares , The safest way with mightines to deale , So pollicie religions habite weares ; T is now no time her greeuance to reueale , Hee 's mad which takes a Lyon by the eares , This knew the Queene , exampled by the wise , This must they learne that rightly temporize . 37 That learnedst Bishop Torleton in the Land , Vpon a text of politicks to preach , vvhich he long studying , well did vnderstand , And by a method could as aptly teach , That was a Prelate of a potent hand , vvise were the man could goe beyond his reach ; This subtile Tutor Isabell had taught , In nicer poynts then euer Edward sought . 38 Rage which no lymmets longer can containe , Lastly breakes forth into a publique flame , Their slipp'd occasion better to regaine , vvhen to their purpose things so fitly frame , And now discerned visibly and plaine , vvhen treason boldly dare it selfe proclaime , Casting aside all secular disguise Leading proud legions furiously to rise . 39 As Seuerne lately in her ebbs that sanke , vast and forsaken leaues th'vncouered sands , Fetching full tydes , luxurious , hie , and ranke , Seemes in her pride t' inuade the neighbouring lands , Breaking her lymmets , couering all the banks , Threatning the proude hills with her watry hands , As though shee meant her Empery to haue , vvhere euen but lately she beheld her graue . 40 Through all the land , from places farre and neere , Led to the field as Fortune lots their side , ( vvith th' auncient weapons vsd in warre to beare ) As those directed whom they chose their guide , Or else perhaps as they affected were , Or as by friendship , or by dutie tide , Swayd by the strength , and motion of their blood , No cause examin'd , be it bad or good . 41 From Norfolke , and the countries of the East , That with the long pyke best could manage sight , The men of Kent vnconquer'd of the rest , That to this day maintaine their auncient right , And for their strength that we account the best , The Cornishmen , most actiue , bold , and light , Those neere the plaine that gleaue and polax weeld , And claime for due the vaward of the field . 42 The noble Britton sprung of Illyon race , From Lancashiere most famous for theyr bowes , vvith those of Cheshiere , chiefest for their place , Men of such boane , as onely made for blowes , That for their faith are had in speciall grace , And as the guard vnto the Soueraigne goes ; Those of the North in feuds so deadly fell , That for their speare and horsemanship excell . 43 For euery vse experience could espy Such as in Fens and Marshlands vse to trade , The doubtfull foards and passages to try , vvith stilts and loapstaues that doe aptliest wade , And fit'st for scouts and Currers to discry , Those from the Mines with pickaxe , and with spade , For Pyoners best , that for intrenching are , Men chiefly needfull in the vse of war. 44 O noble Nation furnished with Armes , So full of spirit , so eminent alone , Had heauen but blest thee to foresee these harmes , And as thy valiant Nephewes to haue gone , Paris , Roan , Orleance shaking with alarmes , As the bright sunne thy glory then had shone ; To other Realmes thou hadst transferd this chance , Nor had your sonnes been first that conquerd Fraunce . 45 And thus on all hands making for their rest , And now set forward for this mighty day , vvhere euery one prepares to doe his best , vvhen in successe theyr liues , and fortunes lay ; No crosse euent theyr purposes to wrest , vvhere now they stand in so direct away ; And whilst they play this strange and doubtfull game , The Queene stands by , and onely giues the ayme . 46 VVhen this braue Lord his foote had scarcely set , Into the road where fortune had to deale , But she disposd his forward course to let , Her lewd condition quickly doth reueale , Glory to her vaine dietie to get , By him , whose birth did beare her omenous seale , VVinning occasion from this very howre , In him to proue , and manifest her power . 47 As when we see the early rising sunne vvith his faire beames to emulate our sight , And when his course but newly is begun The humerous foggs depriue his wished light , Till through the moist clouds his cleere forehead run , Climing the noonsted in his gorgious height , His bright beginning fortune hindreth thus , To make the rest more rich , more glorious . 48 The King discreetly that considered The space of earth whereon the Barrons stand , vvhat were their powers to them contributed , Now being himselfe but partner of his Land , And of the strength and Army that he led , Gainst them that doe so great a power commaund , In which t' was well he did so wisely looke , The taske was great that now he vndertooke . 49 And warn'd by danger to misdoubt the worst , In equall scales whilst ethers fortune hung , Must now performe the vtmost that he durst , Or vndergoe the burthen of his wrong ; As good to stirre as after be inforst To stop the head whence many euills sprong , Now with the marc●ers thinks it best beginne , vvhich first must loose , ere he could hope to winne . 50 The Mortimers beeing men of greatest might , vvhose name was dreadfull , and commaunded far , Sturdy to manage , of a haughty spright , Strongly aly'd , much followed , popular , On whom if thus he happily could light , He hopes more easly to conclude this war ; vvhich he intendeth speedily to try , To quit that first , which most stood in his eye . 51 For which he expeditiously prouided That part of land into his power to get , vvhich if made good , might keepe them still deuided , Their combination cunningly to let , vvho beeing conioyn'd , would be too strongly sided , Two , so great strengthes together safely met , The face of warre would looke so sterne and great , As well might threat to heaue him from his seate . 52 VVherefore from London strongly setting forth , vvith a faire Army furnish'd of the best , Accompany'd with friends of greatest worth , vvith whom ther 's many a gallant spirit is prest ; Great Lancaster , the Lord of all the North , The Mortimers are Maisters of the VVest , He towards mid England makes , the way twixt either , vvhich they must crosse , ere they could come together . 53 And thus inueagled with delightfull hope , Stoutly to front and shoulder with debate , Knowing to meet with a resolued ●●oupe That came prepar'd with courage , and with hate , vvhose stubborne Crests if he inforc'd to stoope , He now must tempt some great and powerfull fate ; And through sterne guards of swords & ●efull flame , Make way to peace , and propagate his name . 54 VVhen now the Marchers well vpon theyr way , ( Expecting such should promisd succour bring vvhich all this while abusd them by delay ) Are suddainly encounted by the King , And now perceiue theyr dilatory stay To be the causer of their ruining , How neere theyr bosoms blacke destruction stood , vvith open iawes prepared for their blood . 55 And by the shifting of inconstant wind , Seeing what weather they were like to meet , vvhich ( euen ) at first so aukwardly they find Ere they could yet giue sea-roomth to their fleet , Cleane from their course , and cast so far behind , And yet in perrill euery hower to split , Some vnknowne harbor suddainly must sound , Or runne theyr fortunes desperatly on ground . 56 The elder peere , graue , politique , and wise , vvhich had all dangers absolutely scand , Finding high time his Nephew to aduise , Since now their state stood on this desperate hand , And from this mischiefe many more to rise , vvith long experience learnd to vnderstand , Nephew ( saith he ) t is longer vaine to striue , Counsell best serues our safety to contriue . 57 The downe-right perrill present in our eye Not to be shund , what certaine end t'assures , The next , the weight that on our fall , doth lie , And what our life to our designe procures , Each hope , and doubt , that doth arise thereby Prouing with iudgement how the same indures , For who obserues strict pollicies true lawes , Shifts his proceeding to the varying cause . 58 To hazard fight with the Emperiall powers , May our small troupes vndoubtedly appall , A desperate end vs willingly deuours , Yeelding our selues , by this we loose not all , VVe leaue our friends this little force of ours , Reseru'd for them , though haplesly we fall ; That shew of weaknes hath a glorious hand , That falls it selfe , to make the cause to stand . 59 Twixt in expected and so dangerous ills That 's best wherein we smallest perrill see , A course that reason necessary wills , And that doth most with pollicy agree , The idle vulgar breath it nothing skils , T is sound discretion must our Pylo● be , He that doth still the say rest meane preferre , Answers opinion how so ere he erre ? 60 And to the worlds eye seeming yet so strong , By our descending willingly from thence , May vrge the shew of our opposed wrong Rather b'inforcement then fore-thought pretence , Leauing th' aduantage doth to vs belong , May quallifie the nature of th' offence , Men are not alwaies incident to losse vvhen Fortune seemes their forward cause to crosse . 61 Nor giue we enuy absolute accesse , To lay our fall vpon thy forward mind , Ther 's neerer meanes this mischiefe to redresse , And make succesfull what is yet behind , Nor of our hope vs wholy dispossesse , Fortune is euer variously inclind , And a small vantage to the course of Kings , Guides a slight meanes to compasse mighty things . 62 vvhich speech so caught his Nephew● plyant youth , Fastning vpon a dutifull respect , vvhich he with such celerlty pursu'th , ( vvell could he counsell , well could he direct ) Proceeding from integrity and truth , And working with such prosperous effect , Shews wisemens counsels by a powerfull fate , ( Seeming from reason ) yet proue fortunate . 63 To which they awfull Maiestie enuite By the most due and ceremonious way , vvith circumstance , and each conditi'nall rite Might winne respect vnto this new essay , Or might opinion any way excite , To which the King doth willingly obay● VVho as themselues in finding danger neere , Rather accepts doubt , then a certaine feare . 64 VVhich he receaues in presage of his good , To his successe auspiciously apply'd , vvhich cooles the heate of his distempred blood , Before their force in doubtfull Armes was try'd , In his protection when they onely stood , At his disposing wholy to abide , vvhereon in safety he dismist their power , Sends them away as prisoners to the Tower. 65 O all-preparing prouidence Diuine , In thy large Booke what secrets are enrold ? VVhat sundry helps doth thy great power assigne To stay the course thou stedfastly doost hold vvhat mortall sence is able to define Thy mysteries , thy counsels manifold , By these digressions strangely that extends Thy obscure proceedings to aparent ends ? 66 This was the meane by which the Fates dispose More threatned plagues vpon that age to bring , Vtter confusion on the heads of those That were before the Barrons ruining , vvith the subuersion of so many foes , The murther of the miserable King , And that which came as Epilogue to all , Lastly , his fearefull , and so violent fall . 67 VVhich to their hope giues time for further breath As the first pause in this their great affaire , That yet awhile deferr'd this threatning death , Trusting this breach by leysure to repayre , And heere awhile this fury lymetteth , VVhilst in this manner things so strangely fare , Horror beyond the wonted bounds doth swell , As the next Canto dreadfully shall tell . The end of the First Canto The second Booke of the Barrons warres . The Argument . At Burton-bridge the puisant Armies met , The forme and order of the doubtfull fight , VVhereas the King the victory doth get , And the proud Barrons lastly forc'd to flight ; How they againe towards Burrough forward set , VVhere , then the Lords are vanquished out-right ; Lastly the lawes doe execute theyr power , On those the sword before did not deuour . 1 THis chance of warre , that dreadfully had swept So large a share from their full-reck'ned might , VVhich their proud hopes so carefully had kept vvhilst yet theyr state stoode equally vpright , That could at first so closely intercept , That should haue scru'd them for a glorious fight , Musters supplies of footmen , and of horse , To giue a new strength to their ruin'd force . 2 Th'inueterate griefe so deepe and firmly rooted , Yet slightly cur'd by this short strengthlesse peace , To essay t'remoue , since it but vainly booted , That did with each distemprature increase , And beeing by euery offer'd cause promooted , Th' effect too firmly setled to surcease . VVhen each euasion sundry passions brought , Strange formes of feare in euery troubled thought . 3 And put in action for this publique cause , vvhilst euery one a party firmly stood , Tax'd by the letter of the censuring lawes , In the sharpe taynder of his honoured blood ; And he that 's free'st entangled by some clause , vvhich to this mischiefe giues continuall food , For where confusion gets so strongly hold , Till all consum'd , can hardly be controld . 4 VVher now by night , euen when pale leaden sleepe Vpon their eye-lids heauily did dwell , And step , by step , on euery sence did creepe , Mischiefe ( that black inhabitant of hell ) VVhich neuer failes continuall watch to keepe , Fearefull to thinke , a horred thing to tell , Entred the place where now these warlike Lords Lay mayld in Armour , girt with irefull swords . 5 Mischiefe , with sharpe sight , and a meager looke , And alwaies prying where she may doe ill , In which the fiend continuall pleasure tooke , Her starued body plenty could not fill , Searching in euery corner , euery nooke , vvith winged feete , too swift to worke her will , Hung full of deadly instruments she went , Of euery sort to hurte where ere she ment . 6 And with a viall fild with banefull wrath , Brought from Cocytus by this cursed spright , vvhich in her blacke hand readily she hath , And drops the poyson vpon euery wight , For to each one she knew the ready path , Now in the mid'st , and dead-time of the night , vvhose enuious force inuadeth euery Peere , Stryking with fury , and impulsiue feare . 7 The weeping morning breaking in the East , vvhen with a troubled , and affrighted mind Each whom this venom lately did infest , The strong effect soone inwardly doe find ; And lately troubled by vnquiet rest , To sad destruction euery one inclind , Rumors of spoile through eu'ry eare doth flye , And fury sits in eu'ry threatning eye . 8 This doone , in hast vnto King Edward hies , vvhich now growne proude vpon his faire successe , The time in feasts and wantonnesse implies vvith crowned cups his sorrowes to redresse , That on his fortune wholly now relies , And in the bosome of his Courtly presse Vaunting the glory of this late wonne day , vvhilst the sick Land with sorrow pines away . 9 Thether she comes , and in a Minions shape Shee creepeth neere the person of the King , vvarm'd with the verdure of the swelling grape , In which , she poyson secretly doth ●ting , Not the least drop vntaynted doth escape , To which intent she all her store did bring , vvhose rich commixture making it more strong Fills his hote vaines with arrogance and wrong . 10 And hauing both such courage , and such might As to so great a busines did belong , Neuer considering theyr pretended right Should be inducement to a trebled wrong , vvhen misty error so deludes their sight , VVhich still betwixt them , and cleere reason hong ; By which opinion falsly was abusd , As left all out of order all confusd . 11 Now our Minerua tells of dreadfull Armes , Inforc'd to sing of worse then ciuill warres , Of Ambuscados , stratagems , alarmes , Vnkind discentions , fearefull massacarrs , Of gloomy magiques , and benumming charmes , Fresh-bleeding wounds , and neuer-healed skarrs , And for the sock wherein she vsd to tread , Marching in greaues , a helmet on her head . 12 VVhilst hate , and griefe , their weakned sence delude , The Barrons draw theyr forces to a head , ( vvhom Edward spurd vvith vengeance still pursude ) By Lancaster , and noble Herford led , This long proceeding , lastly to conclude ; VVhilst now to meet , both Armies freshly sped , To Burton both incamping for the day , vvith expectation for a glorious pray . 13 Vpon the East , from Needwoods bushy side , There riseth vp an easie climing hill , At whose faire foote the siluer Trent doth glide , vvith a deepe murmur permanent and still , VVith liberall store of many Brooks supplide , Th' insatiate Meades continually doe fill , Vpon whose streame , a Bridge of wondrous strength Doth stretch it selfe in forty arches length . 14 Vppon this Mount the Kings pauillion fi●t , And in the towne , the foe intrench'd in sigh , vvhen now the flood is risen so betwixt , That yet a while prolong'd th' vnnaturall fight , vvith trybutarie waters intermixt To stay the furie dooing all it might ; Things which presage both good and ill there be , vvhich heauen fore shewes , but mortals cannot see . 15 The heauen euen mourning o're our heads doth sit , As greeu'd to see the time so out of course , Looking on them who neuer looke at it , And in meere pitty melting with remorce , Longer from teares that cannot stay a whit , vvhose confluence on euery lower sourse , From the swolne fluxure of the clouds doth shake A ranke Impostume vpon euery Lake . 16 O warlike Nation , hold thy conquering hand , Euen sencelesse things admonish thee to pause , That Mother soyle on whom thou yet doost stand , That would restraine thee by all naturall lawes . Canst thou ( vnkind ) inuiolate that band vvhen euen the earth is angry with the cause ? Yet stay thy foote in mischiefes vgly gate , Ill comes too soone , repentance still too late . 17 And can the clouds weepe ouer thy decay , And not one drop fall from thy droughty eyes ? See'st thou the snare , and wilt not shun the way , Nor yet be warn'd by passed miseries ? T is yet but early in this fatall day ; Let late experience learne thee to be wise , Mischiefe foreseene , may easly be preuented , But hap'd , vnhelp'd , though nere enough lamented . 18 Cannot the Scot of your late slaughter boast , And are you yet scarce healed of the sore , I st not enough you haue already lost , But your owne madnes needsly make it more ? VVill you seeke safety in a forraine Coast ? Your wiues and children pittied you before , But when your owne blood your owne swords imbrue , vvho pitties them which once did pitty you ? 19 The neighbouring groues dispoyled of their trees , For boates , and tymber to assay this flood , vvhere men are labouring as the Summer bees , Some hollowing truncks , some bynding heapes of wood , Some on their breasts , some working on their knees , To winne the banck whereon the Barrons stood , vvhich o're this current they by strength must tew , To shed that blood that many ages rew . 20 Some sharpen swords , some on their Murrians set , The Greaues and pouldrons others riuet fast , The Archers now their bearded arrowes whet , vvhilst euery where the clamerous Drums are bra'st , Some taking view where surest ground to get , And euery one aduantage doth fore-cast , In ranks and fyles each plaine and medow swarmes , As though the Land were clad in angry Armes . 21 The Crests and honours of the English name , Against their owne opposed rudely stand , As angry with th'atchieuements whence they came That to theyr vertues gaue that generous brand ; O you vnworthy of your auncient fame , Against your selues to lift your conquering hand , Since forraine swords your height could not abate , By your owne power , your selues to ruinate . 22 Vppon his surcoate valient Neuell bore A siluer saltoyre grac'd on martiall red , A Ladyes sleeue hie-spirited Hastings wore , Ferrer his Taberd with rich verry spred , vvell knowne in many a warlike match before , A Rauen sat on Corbets warlike head Cou'ring his Helmet , Culpepper inrayld , On mayden Armes , a bloody bend engrayld . 23 The noble Percy in this furious day , vvith a bright Cressant in his guid-home came , In his fayre Cornet Verdoo● doth display A Geuly fret , priz'd in this mortall game That had beene task'd in many a doubtful fray , His Launces pennons stayned with the same ; The angry horse chaf'd with the stubborne bit , The ruinous earth with rage & horror smit . 24 I could the summe of Staffords arming show , vvhat cullours Courtney , Rosse , & VVarren hold , Each sundry blazon I could let you know , And all the glorious circumstance haue told , vvhat all the Ensignes standing in a row , But wailing Muse , ( ah me ) thou art controld , vvhen in remembrance of this horred deed , My pen for inck , euen drops of blood doth sheede . 25 Th' imperiall standard in this place is pitch'd , vvith all the hatchments of the English crowne , Great Lancaster with all his power enrich'd , Sets the same Leopards in his Colours downe ; O if with furie you be not bewitch'd , Haue but remembrance on your selfe you frowne , A little note , or difference is in all , How can the same stand , when the same doth fall ? 26 Behold the Eagles , Lyons , Talbots , Beares , The badges of your famous ancestries , And shall they now by their inglorious heires , Stand thus opposd against their famelies ? More honoured marks no Christian nation weares , Reliques vnworthy of their progenies , Those beasts you beare , doe in their kindes agree , O that then beasts more sauage man should be ! 27 But whilst the King no course concluded yit , In his directions variably doth houer , See how misfortunes still her time can fit , Such as were sent the Country to discouer , As vp and downe from place to place they flit , Had found a foord to land their forces ouer ; Ill-newes hath wings , and with the wind doth goe , Comforts a Cripple , and comes ●uer flow . 28 VVhen Edward fearing Lancasters supplies , Proud Richmond , Surry , and ●reat Penbrooke sent , On whose successe his chiefest hope relies , Vnder whose conduct halfe his Army went The neerest way conducted by the Spies , And he himselfe , and Edmond Earle of Kent , Vpon the hill in sight of ●●●ton lay , vvatehing to take aduantage of the day . 29 Stay Surry stay , thou mai'st too soone be gone , Pause till this rage be somewhat ouer-past , VVhy runn'st thou thus to thy destruction ? Richmond and Penbrooke , whether doe you hast ? You labour still to bring more horror on . Neuer seeke sorrow , for it comes too fast , vvhy doe you striue to passe this fatall flood To fetch new wounds , and shed your natiue blood ? 30 Great Lancaster , sheath vp thy angry sword , On Edwards Armes whose edge thou should'st not whet , Thy naturall kinsman , and thy soueraigne Lord , Are you not one , both true Plantaginet ? Call but to mind thy once-engaged word , Canst thou thy oath to Longshancks thus forget ? Consider well before all other things , Our vowes be kept , we make to Gods and Kings . 31 The winds are ●ush'd no little breath doth blow , vvhich seemes so still as though it listning stood , vvith trampling crouds the very earth doth bow , And through the smoke the sunne appeares like blood , vvhat with the shout , and with the dreadfull show , The heards and flocks runne bellowing to the wood . vvhen drums and trumpets giue the fearefull sound , As they would shake the cloudes vnto the ground . 32 The Earles then charging with their power of horse , Taking a signall when they should begin , Beeing in view of the imperiall force , vvhich at the time assay'd the bridge to win , That now the Barrons change th' intended course T' auoyde the danger they were lately in , VVhich on the suddaine had they not fore-cast , Of their black day this howre h●d beene the last . 33 VVhen from the hill the Kings maine power comes downe , vvhich had Aquarius to their valiant guide , Braue Lancaster , and Herford from the towne Now issue forth vpon the other side , Peere against Peere , the crowne against the crowne , The one assailes , the other munifi'd , Englands red Crosse vpon both sides doth flie , Saint George the King , S. George the Barrons cry . 34 Like as an exhalation hote and dry Amongst the ayre-bred moisty vapors throwne , Spetteth his lightning forth outragiously , Rending the grosse cloudes with the thunderstone , vvhose fiery splinters through the thin ayre flie , That with the terror heauen and earth doth grone , vvith the like clamor , and confused woe , To the dread shocke these desperate Armies goe . 35 Now might you see the famous English Bowes So fortunate in times we did subdue , Shoote their sharpe arrowes in the face of those vvhich many a time victoriously them drew , Shunning theyr ayme , as troubled in the loose ; The winged weapons mourning as they flew , Cleaue to the string , ( now impotent and slack ) As to the Archers they would ●aine turne back . 36 Behold the remnant of Troves auncient stock , Laying on blowes , as Smiths on Anuils strike , Grapling together in this feare●ull shocke , VVhere as the like incountreth with the like , As firme and ruthlesse as th' obdurate Rock , Deadly opposed at the push of pyke . Still as the wings , or battels brought together , VVhen fortune yet giues van●age vnto neither . 37 From battered Casks with euery enuious blow , The scattered plumes flie loosly heere and there , vvhich in the ayre doth seeme as drifts of snow , vvhich eu'ry light breath on his wings doth beare , As they had ●ence , and feeling of our woe ; And thus affrighted with the present ●eare , Now back , now forward such strange windings make . As though vncertaine which way they ●ould ●ake . 38 Slaughter runnes wildly through th' afflicted host vvhilst yet the battaile strongly doth abide , That in this strange distemprature is lost , VVhere hellish fury sensibly doth guide , Neuer suffisd , where tyrannizing most , That now their wounds ( with mouthes euen open'd wide ) Lastly inforc'd to call for present death , That wants but tongues , your swords do giue the breath . 39 Heere lyes a heape halfe slaine , and halfly drownd , Gasping for breath amongst the watry segs , And there a sort falne in a deadly swound , Troad with the presse into the muddy dregs , Other lie bleeding on the firmer ground , Hurt in the bodies , maym'd of armes and legs ; One kills a foe , his braine another cuts , On 's feere intangled in anothers guts . 40 One his assayling enemy beguiles , As from the bridge he happily doth fall , Crush'd with his weight vppon the forced piles , Some in their gore vpon the pauement spraule , That euery place so lothsomly defiles , The carcasses lie heaped like a wall , Such hideous shreekes yet still the souldiers breath , As though the spirits had howled from beneath . 41 The faction still defying Edwards might , Edmond of VVoodstocke with the men of Kent , Charging a fresh , reuiues the doubtfull fight Vpon the Barrons , languishing and spent , New preparation for a tragique sight ; vvhen they againe supplies immediat sent A second battaile proudly to begin , The noblest spirits but newly entred in . 42 As at Troyes fack , faire Thetis godlike sunne , Couragious Talbot with his shield him bare , Clyfford and Mowbray brauely following on , Audly and Gifford thrunging for a share , These seconding , the former beeing gone , Elmsbridge and Baldsmere in the thickest are , Pell mell together flie this furious power , vvhen they perceiue that death will all deuour . 43 Mountfort and Teis , your worth I faine would speake But that your valure doth so ill deserue , And Denuile heere from thee perforce must breake , And from thy prayses VVillington must swerue , Your deedes permit not I your wrongs should wreake , Proud Damory , here must thy glory starue , Concealing many most deseruing blame , Because your actions quench my sacred flame . 44 O had you fashiond your great deedes by them , vvho summond Acon with an English drum , Or march'd before that faire Ierusalem , vvith the vnited powers of Christendome , Eternall then had been your Diadem , And with Christs warriors slept about his Toombe , Then ages had immortaliz'd your name , vvhere now my song , can be but of your shame . 45 O age inglorious , Armes vntimely borne , vvhen now this prooued and victorious sheeld , Must in this ciuill massacre be torne , vvhich bare the marks of many a bloody feeld ; And lastly in their ouerthrowne forlorne , vvhen now to flight the Barrons basely yeeld , That since that time the stones for very dreed , Against foule stormes small drops of moisture shee l . 46 VVhen now those wretched , and vnstedfast friends vvhich all this while stood doubtfully to pause , vvhen they perceiue what desteny intends , And his successe doth iustifie his cause , Their faintnes now more comfort apprehends , For victory both feare and friendship drawes , T' an open smile , conuert a couered frowne , All lend their hands to hew the conquered downe . 47 That part of power th'emperiall seem'd to lacke , vvhilst yet the aduerse bare an vpright face , vvhen now constraynd to giue a recreant back , Quickly returnes to prosecute the chase , vvhere now the Barrons wholy goe to wracke , In the iust tryall of so neere a case . Inforc'd to proue the fortune of the Coast , vvhen they perceiue the glorious gole is lost . 48 And to the fortunes of the conquering King vvhich well confirm'd his long and tendered hope , His fayre successe still more incouraging , vvhich now had got so large and ample scope , The Earle of Carlell happily doth bring , His light-arm'd bands the valiant Northerne troope , Armed too lately , and with too much speed , To doe most harme , euen when we least had need . 49 vvhen now the Barrons making out their way , Through parts for safety , and aduantage knowne , Keeping their force still bodied as they may , Into the depth of this misfortune throwne , And in pursute , deuising day by day T' offend th'assailant , and defend their owne , In their last hope the vtmost to endure To deferre the effect , although the end were sure . 50 And whilst their fortune ●u●ing sadly thus To Burrough-bridge conducted by their fate , Bridges to Barrons euer omenous , And to this place their fall preordinate , That ministring such cause of griefe to vs , By the remembrance of their passed state ; The very soile by deepe impression yit , Euen to this day , doth still remember it . 51 New courage now , new fights , new battailes rang'd , New breath ( but what might make destruction newe ) They change the ground , but yet their fate vnchang'd , vvhich too directly doth their course pursue , Nor from their former misery estrang'd , Their strength decayes , their dangers daily grew , To shorten that which whilst it did depend , Gaue a long breathing , to a fearefull end . 52 Like to a heard of weary hartlesse Deare , vvhom hot-spurd Huntsmen seriously doe chase , In brakes and bushes falling here and there , Proouing each couert , euery secret place , Yet by the hounds recouered eu'ry where vvith eager yearning in the sented trace ; Hem'd on each side with hornes rechating blast , Headlong themselues into the toyles doe cast . 53 Ensigne beards Ensigne , sword gainst sword doth shake , vving against wing , and ranke doth ranke oppose , In on each other furiously they brake , And death in earnest to his bus'nes goes , A generall hauock as dispos'd to make , And with destruction doth them all inclose , Dealing it selfe impartially to all , Friend by his friend , and foe by foe doth fall . 54 This part of life which yet they did respire In spight of fortune , as they stood prepar'd vvith courage charg'd , with comlines retire , Make good their ground , and then relieue their guard , vvithstand the entrer , then pursue the flier , New forme their battaile , shifting eu'ry ward , As your hie courage , but were your quarrel good O noble spirits , how deere had beene your blood ! 55 The Northerne bands th' ambitious Herckley led On the weake Barrons mangled so before , That now towards Burrough make a puissant head , Incouraging th' imperiall power the more , O day so fatall , and so full of dread , vvhen ere shall time thy ruinous wast restore , vvhich to amend although thou shalt perseuer , Thou still mai'st promise , but performe it neuer . 56 Pale death beyond all wont●d bounds doth swell , Caruing proud flesh in cantels now at large , As leaues in Autumne , so the bodies fell Vnder rough steele at eu'ry boysterous charge ; O what sad pen can the destruction tell , vvhere scalps lay beaten as the battered targe , And eu'ry one he claimeth as his right That not prouides t' escape away by flight . 57 Those Ensignes earst , that in the glittering field vvith their curld forheads threat th' ambitious foe , Like wether'd foule the drouping pyneons yield , Stooping their proud heads to the dust below ; There sits a helmet , and there lies a shield , O ill did fate these noble Armes bestow , vvhich as a quarry on the soyld earth lay , Seasd on by conquest as a glorious pray . 58 Heere noble Bohun that braue-issued peere , Herford so hie in eu'ry gracious hart Vnto his country ; so receiu'd and deere , vvounded by treason in the lower part , ( As o're the bridge his men returning were ) Through those ill-ioyn'd plancks by an enuious dart , But Lancaster whose lot not yet to die , Taken , reseru'd to greater infamie . 59 O subiect for some sadder Muse to sing , Of fiue great Earldoms happily possest , Of the direct line of the English King , vvith fauours , friends , and earthly honours blest , If so that all these happines could bring , Or could endowe assurednes of rest ; But what estate stands free from fortunes power ? The Fates haue guidance of our time and howre . 60 Some few themselues in sanctuaries hide , In mercie of that priuiledged place , Yet are their bodies so vnsanctifi'd , As scarce their soules can euer hope for grace ; vvhereas they still in want and feare abide , A poore dead life this draweth out a space , Hate stands without , and horror sits within , Prolonging shame , but pard'ning not their sin . 61 Here is not death contented with the dead , As though of some thing carelesly deni'd , Till which might firmly be accomplished His vtmost fully were not specifi'd , That all exactly might be perfected A further torment vengeance doth prouide , That dead men should in misery remaine , To make the liuing die with greater paine . 62 You soueraine Citties of th' afflicted Ile , In Cipresse wreaths , and widowed attire Prepare yee now to build the funerall pile , Lay your pale hands vnto this latest ●●re , All mirth and comfort from your streets exile , Till you be purg'd of this infectious ●●e . The noblest blood yet liuing to be shed , That euer dropt from your rebellious dead . 63 VVhen this braue Lord great Lancaster who late This puisant force had now thus long retayn'd , As the first Agent in this strange debate At fatall Pomfret for these facts a●ayn'd , Gainst whom of all things they articulate , To whom these factions chiefly appertain'd , vvhose proofes apparant so directly sped , As from his body re●t a reuerent head . 64 Yet Lancaster it is not thy deere breath Can raunsome back the safety of the Crowne , Nor make a league of so great power with death , To warrant what is rightfully our owne , But they must pay the ●orfait of their faith vvhich fondly broke with their ambi●ion , vvhen now reue●ge vnto the vtmost rack'd , The Agents iustly suffer with the act● 65 Euen in that place where he had lately led , As this darke path vnto the rest to show , It was not long ere many followed In the same steps that he before did goe , London thy freedome is prohibited , The first in place ( ô would the first in woe ) Others in blood did not excell thee farre , That now deuour the remnant of this warre . 66 O parents ruthfull , and hart-renting sight , To see that sonne thy tender bosome fed , A mothers ioy , a fathers sole delight , That with much cost , yet with more care was bred , A spectacle euen able to affright Th'most sencelesse thing , and terrifie the dead , His blood so deere vpon the cold earth powr'd , His quarter'd coarse of birds and beasts deuour'd . 67 But t is not you that beere complaine alone , Or to your selues this fearefull portion share , Heer 's choyce , and strange varietie of moane , Poore childrens teares with widdowes mixed are , Many a friends sigh , many a maydens grone , So innocent , so simply , pure , and rare ; As though euen nature that long silent kept , Burst out in playnts , and bitterly had wept , 68 O wretched age , had not these things beene done , I had not now in these more calmer times Into the search of former troubles runne , Nor had my virgine impoluted rimes Altred the course wherein they first begun , To sing these bloody , and vnnaturall crimes , My layes had still beene to Ideas bower , Of my deere Ank●r , or her loued Stoure . 69 Or for our subiect , your faire worth to chuse , Your birth , your vertue , and your hie respects , That gently dayne to patronize our Muse , vvho our free soule ingeniously elects To publish your deserts , and all your dues , Mauger the Momists , and Satyrick sects , vvhilst my great verse eternally is song , You still may liue with me in spight of wrong . 70 But greater things reserued are in store , Vnto this taske my Armed Muse to keepe , Still offering me occasion as before , Matter whereof my tragick verse may weepe● And as a vessell beeing neere t●e shore , By aduerse winds enforced to the deepe , Am driuen backe from whence I came of late , Vnto the bus'nes of a troubled state . The end of the second Canto . The third Booke of the Barrons warres . The Argument . By a sleepie potion that the Queene ordaines , Lord Mortimer escapes out of the Tower , And by false slights , and many subtile traines , Shee gets to Fraunce to raise a ●orraine power , The French King leaues his sister ; need constraines The Queene to Henault in a happy bowre , Edward her sonne to Phillip is affi'd , And for i●uasion presently prouide . 1 SCarce had these passed miseries their ends vvhen other troubles instantly begun , As ( still ) new matter mischiefe apprehends , By things that incon●id'ratly were done , And further yet this insolence extends , vvhilst all not yeelded that the sword had wonne● For some there were that ●ecretly did he , That to this bus'nes had a watchfull eye . 2 VVhen as the King ( whilst things thus fairely went ) VVho by this happy victory grew strong , Summons at Yorke a present Parlement , To plant his right , and helpe the Spensers wrong , By which he thinks t' establish his intent , vvhence ( more and more ) his Mineons greatnes sprong , vvhose counsels still in all proceedings crost Th' inraged Queene , whom all misfortunes tost . 3 VVhen now the eld'st , a man extreamly hated , vvhom yet the King not aptly could prefer , The edge of their sharpe insolence abated , This parlement makes Earle of VVinchester , vvhere Herckley Earle of Carlell is created , And Baldock likewise is made Chauncelor , One whom the King had for his purpose wrought , A man as subtile , so corrupt , and naught . 4 VVhen now mishapp's that sildome come alone Thicke in the necks of one another fell , The Scot pretends a new inuasion , And Fraunce doth thence our vse-full power expell , Treasons suspected to attend his throne , The greeued Commons eu'ry day rebell , Mischiefe on mischiefe , curse doth follow curse , One ill scarse past , when after comes a worse . 5 For Mortimer this wind yet fitly blew , Troubling theyr eyes which else perhaps might see , vvhilst the wise Queene , who all aduantage knew Is closly plotting his deliuery , ( vvhich now she doth with all her powers pursue ) Aptly contryu'd by her deepe pollicie , Against opinion , and the course of might , To worke her will , euen through the iawes of spight . 6 A sleepie drinke she secretly hath made , vvhose operation had such wonderous power , As with cold numnes could the sence invade , And mortifie the patient by an howre , The liuelesse corse in such a slumber layd , As though pale death did wholy it deuour , Nor for two dayes take benefit of eyes , By all means Art , or Physick could deuise . 7 For which she Plantane and cold Lettice had , The water Lilly from the marrish ground , VVith the wan Poppy , and the Night-shade sad , And the short mosse that on the trees is found , The poysning Henbane , and the Mandrake drad , vvith Cypresse flowers , that with the rest are pound , The braine of Cranes like purposely she takes , Mix'd vvith the blood of Dormise , and of Snakes . 8 Thus sits the great Enchauntresse in her cell , Strongly ingert with ceremonious charmes , Her clensed body sens'd with hallowing smell , vvith Vestall fire her potent liquor warmes , Hauing full heate , vnto her ●usnes fell , vvhen her with Magique instruments she Armes , And from the hearbes the powerfull verdure wrong , To make the med'cine forcible and strong . 9 The sundry doubts that incident arise , Might be supposd her trembling hand to stay , If she considered of the enterprise To thinke what perrill in th'attempting lay , The secret lurking of deceitfull spies , That on her steps continually doe pray , But when they leaue of vertue to esteeme , Those greatly erre which take them as they seeme . 10 Their plighted ●aith for liberty they leaue , Their loue is cold , their lust hote , hote their hate , vvith smiles and teares they serpentlike deceaue , In their desires they be insatiate , There 's no restraint their purpose can bereaue , Their will no bound , nor their reuenge no date , All feare exempt where they at ruine ayme , Couering their sinne with their discouered shame . 11 The elder of the Mortimers this space , ( That many sundry miseries had past ) So long restrayn'd within that healthlesse place , Redeem'd by death yet happily at last , That much auailes the other in this case , And from this Lord that imposition cast , vvhich the deere safety of his vnckles breath vvithin the Tower so strictly limmeteth . 12 But there was more did on his death depend Then heauen was pleasd the foolish world should know , And why the Fates thus hasted on his end , Thereby intending greater things to show , Braue Lord in vaine thy breath thou didst not spend , From thy corruption further matters grow , And soone beginning fruitfully to spring , New formes of feare vpon the time to bring . 13 All things prepard in readines , and fit , The Queene attends her potions power to proue , Their stedfast friends , their best assisting it , Their seruaunts seale their secrets vp in loue ; And he expresse his valure and his wit , vvhom of the rest it chiefly doth behoue , Places resolu'd where guide and horses lay , And where the ship him safely to conuay . 14 As his large bounties liberally were heapt To all deseruing , or to those that neede , His solemne birth-dayes feastifall was kept At his free charge , all in the Tower to feede , vvhich may suspition cleerly intercept , A strong assistant in so great a neede , vvhen midst their cates , their furious thirst to quench , Mixing their wine with this approoued drench . 15 VVhich soone each sence , and eu'ry power doth ceaze , vvhen he that knew the strength of eu'ry ward , And to the purpose sorting all his keyes , His corded ladders readily prepar'd , And lurking forth by the most secret waies , Not now to learne his compasse by the Card , To winne the walls coragiously doth goe , vvhich looke asscorning to be mastred so . 16 They soundly sleepe whilst his quick spirits awake , Opposd to perrill , and the stem'st extreames , Alcydes labours new to vndertake , Of walls , of gates , of watches , and of streames , Through which his passage he is now to make , And let them tell King Edward of their dreames , For ere they rose out of the brainsicke traunce , He hopes to tell this noble iest in Fraunce . 17 The sullen night hath her blacke Curtaines spred , Lowring the day had tarryed vp so long , vvhose faire eyes closing , softly steales to bed , vvhen all the heauens with duskie cloudes are hong , And Cynthia now plucks in her horned head , And to the vvest incontinently flong , As she had long'd to certifie the sunne vvhat in his absence in her Court was done . 18 The glymmering lights , like Sentinels in warre , Behind the cloudes stand craftily to pry , And through false loope-holes looking from a farre To see him skirmish with his desteny , Not any fix'd , nor any wandring starre , As they had held a counsell in the skie , And had before concluded with the night It should not looke for any cheerfull sight . 19 In deadly silence all the shores are hush'd , Onely the Skreech-howle sounds to the assault , And Isis with a troubled murmure rush'd , As if consenting , and would hide the fault , And as his foote the sand or grauell crush'd , A little whisp'ring moou'd within the vault , Made by the treading softly as he went , vvhich seem'd to say it furthered his intent . 20 This wondrous Queene whom care yet restlesse kept Now for his speede to heauen holds vp her hands , A thousand strange thoug●ts in her bosome heap'd As in her Closet listening still she stands , That many a sigh spent● many a warme teare wept , And though deuided , as in sundry strands , Most absent , present in desires they be , Our minds discerne where eyes doe cease to see . 21 The small cloudes issuing from his lips she saith , Labouring so fast , as he the ladder clame , Should purge the ayre of pestilence , and death , And as sometime that ●ilch'd Prometbian flame , Euen so the power and vertue of his breath , New creatures in the elements should frame , And to what part of heauen it happ'd to stray , There should path out another milkie way . 22 Attaynd the top , halfe spent awhile to blow , Now round about he casts his longing eyes , The gentle earth salut's him from below , And couered with the comfortable skies , Viewing the way that he is now to goe , Cheer'd with the beames of Isabels faire eyes , Downe from the turret desperatly doth slide , Night be succesfull , fortune be his guide . 23 vvith his descent , her eye soe still descends , As feare had fix'd it to forewarne his fall , On whom her hope , and fortune now depends , vvhen suddaine feare her sences doth appall , For present ayde her god-like hand extends , Forgets her selfe , and speedy ayde doth call ; Silent againe , if ought but good should hap , Shee begs of heauen his graue may be her lap . 24 Now she intreats the darke distempred ayre , Then by stronge Magicks she coniures the wind , Then she inuokes the gloomy night by prayer , Then with her spells the mortall sence to bind ; And fearing much least these yet frustrate are , Now by the burning tapers she diuin'd , Intreating T●ames to giue a friendly passe , The deerest fraught ere on her bosome was . 25 The rushing murmure stills her like a song , But yet in feare the streame should fall in loue , Suspects the drops that on his tresses hong , And that the billowes for his beauty stroue , To his fayre body , that so closely clong , vvhich when in swimming with his breast he droue , Palled with griefe she turnes away her face , Iealous that he the waters should embrace . 26 This angry Lyon hauing slipp'd his chaine , As in a feuer makes King Edward quake , vvhich knew ( too well ) ere he was oaught againe , Deere was the blood must serue his thirst to slake , Many the labours had been spent in vaine , And he inforc'd a longer course to take , Saw further vengeance hanging in the wind , That knew the pride , and greatnes of his mind . 27 The faction working in this lingering iarre , How for the Scot free passage might be made , To lay the ground of a succesfull warre , That hope might breede fresh courage to inuade ; And whilst our safety standeth ou● so farre , More dangerous proiects eu'ry where are layd , That some in hand , home troubles to en●re , Others in Fraunce doe forraine broyles p●ocure . 28 By these discentions that were lately sowne Incyting Charles to open Armes againe , vvho seazing Guyne , pretended as his owne That Edward should vnlawfully detaine , Proceeds to make a further title knowne , T' our Lands in Pontieu , and in Aquitaine , vvhen wanted homage hath desolu'd the truce , vvaking his wrongs by Isabels abuse . 29 This plot concluded that was long in hand , ( vvhich to this issue prosperously had thri●'d ) The Base whereon a mighty frame must stand , vvith mickle art , yet with more feare contriu'd , So strongly builded by this factious band , As from the same their safety is deriu'd , Till theyr full-rooted , and inuetterate hate , Getting more strength , might deeply penetrate . 30 VVhen choise of such to sway this French affaire , vvhich as a shapelesse , and vnweldy masse Might well imploy the strength of all their care , So hard and per'lous ●o be brought to passe , vvhich it behooues them quickly to prepare , That beeing now so setled as it was , Craues a graue spirit , whose eminence , and power , Might like a stiffe gale check this threatning show●e . 31 This must a Session seriously debate , That depth of iudgment crau'd to be discust , That so concernes the safety of the state , And in a case so plausible and iust , As might haue quench'd all sparcks of former hate , And might be thought euen pollicy might trust , Could enuy maister her distracted will , Or apprehend saciety in ill . 32 Torleton whose tongue mens eares in chaynes could tie , And as a fearefull thunderbolt could pierce , In which there more authority did lie . Then in the Sybils sage propheticke verse , VVhose sen●ence was so absolute , and hie , As had the power a iudgment to reuerse , On the Queenes part with all his might doth stand , To lay this charge on her well-guiding hand . 33 VVhat helps her presence to the cause might bring , Beeing a wife , a sister , and a mother , And in so great , and pertinent a thing , To right her sonne , her husband , and her brother , Her gracious helpe to all distributing , To take of her what they should hold of other , vvhich colour serues t' effect in these extreames , That which ( God knowes ) King Edward neuer dreames● 34 Torleton is this thy spirituall pretence ? VVould God thy thoughts were more spirituall , Or lesse perswasiue were thy eloquence . But ô thy actions are too temporall , Opinion lends too great preheminence , Thy reasons subtile , and sophisticall , vvould all were true thy supposition saith , Thy arguments lesse force , or thou more faith . 35 These suddaine broyles that weare begun of late , Still kept in motion by their secret sleight , By false suggestions so interminate That as a ballast of some solid weight , Betwixt these aduerse currents of debate , Kept theyr proceeding in a course so streight , As lends the Queene an ampler colour still , By generall meanes to worke a generall ill . 36 Shee which thus fitly found both wind and tyde , And sees her leysure serue the howre so neare , All her endeuours mutually apply'd , vvhilst for her purpose things so fitly weare , And this aduantage quickly had espy'd , As one whose fortunes taught the worst to feare , Seeing the times so variously inclind , And eu'ry toy soone altring Edwards mind . 37 Her followers such as friendlesse else had stood , Sunck , and deiected by the Spensers pride , vvho bare the brands of treason in their blood , vvhich but with blood there was no way to hide , vvhose meane was weake , whose will was but too good , vvhich to effect did but the howre abide , And knew all meanes that mischiefe could inuent , That any way might further her intent . 38 VVhilst Mortimer which now so long hath laine From our iust course , by fortune lately crost , In Fraunce now strugling how he might regaine That which before he had in England lost , All present meanes doth gladly entertaine , No iot dismayde in all these tempests tost , Nor his great minde can thus be ouerthrowne , All men his friends , all countries are his owne . 39 And Muse transported by thy former zeale , Led in our progresse where his fortune lyes , To thy fayre ayde I seriously appeale , To sing this great man , his magnanimous guise , The auncient Heroes vnto me reueale , vvhose worths may raise our nobler faculties That in my verse , transparent , nete , and cleere , His character more liuely may appeere . 40 Such one he was , of him we boldly say , In whose rich soule all soueraigne powers did sute , In whom in peace th' elements all lay So mix'd as none could soueraignty impute , As all did gouerne , yet all did obey , His liuely temper was so absolute , That t'seemd when heauen his modell first began , In him it showd perfection in a man. 41 So throughly season'd , and so rightly set , As in the leuell of cleere iudgements eye , Time neuer tuch'd him with deforming fret , Nor had the power to warpe him once awry , vvhose stedfast course no crosse could euer let , His eleuation was so heauenly hie , Those giddy tempests that the base world proue , Sate vnder , where , he planet like did moue . 42 vvhich this faire Queene that had a knowing spirit , And saw the beauties resting in his mind , One that had throughly look'd into his merit , Aboue the value of the vulgar kind , That rightly did his Grand●ires deedes inherit , vvhen now the ages in theyr course declin'd , vvhen the old world beeing weake , began to ●ow To th' effeminate basenes that it rests at now . 43 vvhat waies he wealth , or what his VVigmore left ? Let needlesse heapes , things momentary stand , He counts not his that can be rap'd by theft , Man is the sole Lord both of sea and land , And still is rich of these that is not reft , vvho of all creatures hath an vpright hand , And by the starres is onely taught to know , That as they progresse heauen , he earth should doe . 44 VVherefore wise Nature forc'd this face of ground , And through the deeps shew'd him the secre● way , That in the floods her iudgments might be found , vvhere she for safety did her treasure lay ; vvhose store that he might absolutly sound , Shee gaue him courage for her onely kay , That he alone , of all her creatures free , Her glory , and her wondrous works should see . 45 Let wretched worldlings sweat for mud and earth , vvhose groueling bosoms licke the recreant stones , And pesants carke for plenty , and for dearth , Fame neuer lookes vpon these prostrate drones , Man is allotted at his princely birth To manage Empires , and to sit on thrones , Frighting coy fortune , when she stern'st appeares , vvhich else scornes sighes , and ieereth at our teares . 46 VVhen now report with her fleet murmuring wing Tuch'd the still entrance of his listning eare , A fleete prepar'd this royall Queene to bring , And her arriuall still awaited neare , vvhen eu'ry sound a note of loue doth sing , The ioyfull thoughts that in his bosome were , The soule in doubt to make her function lesse Denies the vtterance fully to expresse . 47 Quoth he , slide billowes gently for her sake , vvhose sight can make your aged Nereus yong , For her fair● passage euen allyes make , On the sleeke waters wa●t her sayles along ; And whilst she glydes vpon the pleasant lake , Let the sweet Syrens rocke her with a song , Though not Loues mother that doth passe this way● Fairer then she that 's borne vpon the sea . 48 You Sea-bred creatures , gaze vpon her eye , And neuer after with your kind make war , O steale the accents from her lip that flie , vvhich like the musicks of the Angels are , And them vnto your amorous thoughts apply , Compar'd with which , Aryons did but iarre , vvrap them in ayre , and when blacke tempests rage , Vse them as charmes , the rough seas to asswage . 49 Fraunce send to fetch her with full sholes of oares , vvith which her fleet may eu'ry way be plyde , And beeing landed on thy happy shoares , As the vast nauie doth at Anck or ride , For her departure when the wild sea roares , Ship mount to heauen , there brightly stellifide Next Iasons Argo on the ●urnish'd throne , Assume thee there a constellation . 50 Her person hence conuay'd with that delight , vvhich best the languish of her iournies easd , That to her pleasure doth it selfe inuite , vvhereon her mind , and subtill fancie ceasd , And that ( most deare ) her liking might excite , vvhich then this Lord , naught more her presence pleasd , vvhere , when with state she fitt'st her time could take , Thus the faire Queene her Mortimer bespake . 51 O Mortimer , great Mortimer quoth shee , vvhat angry power did first this meane deuise , To seperate Queene Isabell and thee , vvhom loues eternall vnion strongly ties , But if supposd this fault began by me , For a iust pennance to my longing eyes , ( Though guiltlesse they ) this punishment assignd , To gaze vpon thee , till they leaue me blind . 52 T is strange sweet friend how thou art altred thus Since first in Court thou didst our fauours weare , vvhose shape seem'd then not mortall vnto vs , vvhen in our eye thy brow was beauties spheare , In all perfection so harmonious , A thousand seuerall graces moouing there ; But what then could'st thou be , not now thou art , An alien first , last home-borne in my hart . 53 That powerfull fate thy safety did inforce , And from the worst of danger did thee free , Still regular , and constant in one course , vvrought me a firme , and euen path to thee , Of our affections as it tooke remorce , Our birth-fix'd starres so happily agree , vvhose reuolusion seriously directs Our like proceedings , to the like effects . 54 New forme of counsaile in the course of things , To our dissignement finds a neerer way , That by a cleere , and perfect managing , Is that firme prop whereon we onely stay , vvhich in it selfe th' authority doth bring , That weake opinion hath no power to sway , Confuting such whose sightlesse iudgement sit , In the thicke ranke , with euery vulgar-wit . 55 Then since pleasd time our wish'd content assures , Imbrace the blessings of our mutuall rest , And whilst the day of our good hap endures , And we as fauorites leane on fortunes brest , vvhich doth for vs this vacansie procure , In choise make free election of the best , Nere feare the storme before thou feele the shower , My sonne a King , an Empire is my dower . 56 Of wanton Edward when I first was woo'd , vvhy cam'st thou not into the Court of France ? Thy selfe alone then in my grace had'st stood , Deere Mortimer how good had beene thy chaunce , My loue attempted in that youthfull mood , I might haue beene thine owne inheritance , vvhere entring now by force , thou hold'st by might , And art deseisor of anothers right . 57 Honour thou Idole women so adore , How many plagues doo'st thou retaine to grieue vs , vvhen still we finde there is remaining more Then that great word of maiestie can giue vs , vvhich takes more from vs then it can restore , And of that comfort often doth depriue vs , That with our owne selues sets vs at debate , And mak'st vs beggers vnder our estate . 58 Those pleasing raptures from her graces rise , Strongly inuading his impressiue breast , That soone entranced all his faculties Of the proud fulnesse of their ioyes possest , And hauing throughly wrought him in this wise , Like tempting Syrens , sing him to his rest , vvhen eu'ry power is passiue of some good , Felt by the spirits of his high-rauish'd blood . 59 Like as a Lute that 's tuch'd with curious skill , In musicks language sweetly speaking plaine , vvhen eu'ry string his note with sound doth fill , Taking the tones , and giuing them againe , And the eare bath's in harmony at will , A diapason closing eu'ry straine ; So their affections set in keyes so like , Still fall in consort as their humors strike . 60 VVhen now the path to their desire appeares , Of which before they had beene long debar'd , By desolution of some threatning feares That for destruction seem'd to stand prepar'd , vvhich the smooth face of better safety beares , And now protected by a stronger guard , Giues the large scope of leysure to fore-cast Euents to come , by things already past . 61 These great dissignements setting easly o●t , By due proportion measuring eu'ry pace , T' auoyd the cumbrance of each hindring doubt , That might distort the comlines , and grace , Comming with eu'ry circumstance about , S●rictly obseruing person , time , and place ; All ornaments in faire discretions lawes , Could giue attyre to beautifie the cause . 62 The Embassy in tearmes of equall height , As well their state , and dignitie might fit , Apparrelling a matter of that weight , In ceremony well beseeming it , To carry things so steddy , and so right , vvhere wisdome with cleere maiestie might sit , All things still seeming strictly to effect , That loue commaunds , and greatnes should respect . 63 VVhos 's expedition by this faire successe That doth againe this ancient league combine , VVhen Edward should by couenant release , And to the Prince the Prouinces resigne , vvith whom King C●arles renewes the happy peace , Receauing homage due to him for Guyne , And lastly now to consumate their speed , Edwards owne person to confirme the deede . 64 VVho whilst he stands yet doubtfull what to doe , The Spensers chiefely that his counsels guide , Nor with their Soueraigne into Fraunce durst goe , Nor in his absence durst at home abide ; Now whilst the weake King stands perplexed so , His listning eares with such perswasion pli'de , As he at last to stay in England's wonne , And in his place , to send the Prince his sonne . 65 Thus is the King encompast by their skill , A meane to worke what Herford doth deuise , To thrust him on , to draw them vp the hill , That by his strength , they might get power to rise ; Thus they in all things are before him still , This perfect steersman of their policies Hath cast to walke whilst Edward beares the light , And take that ayme that must direct his sight . 66 And by th'alowance of his liberall will Supposd his safety , furthering their intent , Stands as a rest to iustifie their ill , Made sound and currant by this late euent , And what yet wanting lastly to fulfill , Things in theyr course to fall in true consent , Giues full assurance of that happy end , On which they now laboriously attend . 67 Nor finding reason longer to protract Or in suspence their home-left friends to hold , By beeing now so absolutely back'd , And thereby waxing confident and bold , By their proceedings publishing their act , vvhen as their power was ripened as they would , Now with an armed , and erected hand To abet their faction absolutely stand . 68 VVhen now the fearefull fainting Exceter , A man experienc'd in their counsels long , vvhether himselfe thought his way to prefer , Or mou'd in conscience with King Edwards wrong , Or t' was his frailty forc'd him thus to erre , Or other fatall accident among , The onely first that backe to England flew , And knowing all , discouered all he knew . 69 The plot of treason lastly thus disclos'd , And Torletons drift by circumstances found , vvith what conueyance things had beene dispos'd The cunning vsd in casting of the ground , The meanes , and apt aduantages he chos'd , vvhen better counsell coldly comes to sound , Awakes the King to see his owne estate , vvhen the preuention comes too vaine and late . 70 And whilst the time she daily doth adiourne , Charles as a brother by perswasions deales , Edward with threats to hasten her returne , And Iohn of Rome with papall curse assailes , T is but in vaine against her will to spurne , Perswasions , threats , nor curses ought preuailes , Charles , Edward , Iohn , doe th' vtmost of your worst , The Queene fares best when she the most is curst . 71 The subtile Spensers which French humors felt , ( And with their Soueraigne had deuisd the draught ) vvith Prince and Peeres now vnderhand had delt vvith golden bayts , that craftily were caught , vvhose flexed temper soone begins to melt , On which they now by flights so throughly wrought , As with great summes now lastly ouer-way'd , The wretched Queene is desperate of ayde . 72 Nor can all this amaze this mighty Queene , vvith all th'affliction neuer yet contrould , Neuer such courage in her sexe was seene , Nor was she cast in other womens mould , ( Nor can rebate the edge of her hie spleene ) But can endure warre , trauaile , want , and cold , Strugling with fortune , ne're with greefe opprest , Most cheerfull still , when she was most distrest . 73 And thus resolu'd to leaue ingratefull Fraunce , And in the world her fortune yet to try , Changing the ayre , hopes time may alter chance , As one whose thoughts were eleuate more hie , Her weakned state still seeking to aduaunce , Her mighty mind so scorneth misery ; Yet ere she went , her grieued hart to ease , Thus to the King this grieued Lady saies . 74 Is this a King and Brothers part , quoth she , And to this end , did I my griefe vnfold ? Came I to heale my wounded hart to thee , vvhere slaine outright I now the same behold ? Proue these thy vowes , thy promises to me , In all this heate , thy faith become so cold , To leaue me thus forsaken at the worst ? My state more wretched then it was at first . 75 My frailty vrging what my want requires To thy deere mercy should my teares haue ty'd , Our bloods maintained by the selfe-same fires , And by our fortunes as our birth aly'd , My sute supported by my iust desires , All arguments I should not be deny'd . The grieuous wrongs that in my bosome be , Should be as neere thy care , as I to thee . 76 Nature that easly wrought vpon my sex , To thy vile pleasure thus mine honour leaues , And vnder colour of thy due respects , My setled trust dis●oially deceaues , That me and mine thus carelesly neglects , And of all comfort wholy me bereaues , Twixt recreant basenes , and disord'nate will , To expose my fortunes to the worst of ill . 77 But for my farwell this I prophecie , That from my wombe tha● glorious fruit doth spring , vvhich shall deiect thy neere posteritie , And lead a captiue thy succeeding King , That shall reuenge this wretched iniury , To fatall Fraunce I as a Sybel sing , Her Cittie 's sack'd , the slaughter of her men , vvhen of the English one shall conquer ten . 78 Bewmount in Fraunce that had this shuffling seene , vvhose soule by kindnes Isabell had wonne , For Henault now perswades the greeued Queene , By full assurance what might there be done , Now in the anguish of this tumerous spleene Offring his faire Neece to the Prince her sonne , The surest way to gaine his brothers might , To back young Edward , and vphold her right . 79 This gallant Lord , whose name euen fild report , To whom the souldiers of that time did throng , A man that fashion'd others of his sort , As that knew all to honour did belong , And in his youth traynd vp with her in Court , And fully now confirmed in her wrong , Crost by the faction of th'emperiall part , In things that sat too neerly to his hart . 80 Sufficient motiues to inuite destresse , To apprehend the least and poorest meane , Against those mischiefes that so strongly presse , vvhereon their low deiected state to leane , And at this season , though it were the lesse That might awhile their sickly power sustaine , Till prosperous times by mild , and temperate dayes , Their drooping hopes to former height might raise . 81 VVhere finding cause to breathe their restlesse state vvhere welcome look'd with a more milder face , From those dishonours she receau'd of late , vvhere now she wants no due officious grace , Vnder the guidance of a gentler fate , vvhere bountious offers mutually embrace , And to conclude all ceremonies past , The Prince affies faire P●illip at the last . 82 All cou'nants sign'd with wedlocks sacred seale , A lasting league eternally to bind , And all proceeding of religious zeale , And suting right with Henaults mighty mind , That to his thoughts much honor doth reueale , vvhat ease the Queene is like thereby to find , The sweet contentment of the louely bride , Young Edward pleasd , and ioy on eu'ry side . The end of the third Canto . The fourth Booke of the Barrons warres . The Argument . The Queene in Henault mightie power doth wi●● , In Harwich hauen safely is arriu'd , Great troubles now in England new begin , The King of friends , and safety is depriu'd , Flieth to VVales , at Neath receiued in , Many strange acts , and outrages contriu'd . Edward betray'd , deliu'red vp at Neath , The Spensers , and his friends are put to death . 1 NOw seanen times Phoebus had his welked waine Vpon the top of all the Torpick set , And seauen times discending downe againe , His fiery wheeles had with the fishes wet ; In the accurrents of this haplesse raigne , Since treason first these troubles did beget , vvhich through more strange varieties hath runne , Then it that time celestiall signes hath done . 2 VVhilst our ill thriuing in those Scottish broyles , Theyr strength and cou●age greatly doth aduaunce , That beeing made fat and wealthy by our spoyles , vvhen we still weakned by the iarres in Fraunce , And thus dishartned by continuall foyles , Yeelds other cause , whereat our Muse may glaunce , And Herckleys treasons lastly brings to view , vvhose power of late the Barrons ouerthrew . 3 Now when the Scot with an inuasiue hand By daily inroads on the borders made , Had spoyld the Country of Northumberland , The buildings leuell with the ground weare layd ; And finding none that dare his power withstand , vvithout controlement eu'ry where had pray'd . Bearing with pride what was by pillage got , As our last fall appointed to theyr lot . 4 For vvhich false Herckley by his Soueraigne sent T' intreate this needfull , though dishonored peace , Cloking his treasons by this fayn'd intent , Kinling the warre which otherwise might cease ; And with the Scot new mischiefes doth inuent , T' intrap King Edward , and their feare release ; For which their faith they constantly haue plight In peace and warre to stand for eithers right . 5 For which the King his sister doth bestow , Vpon this false Lord , which to him affy'd , Maketh too plaine , and euident a show , Of what before , his trust did closely hide , But beeing found from whence this match should grow , By such as now into their actions pry'd , Displayes the treasons , which not quickly crost , vvould shed more blood then all the warres had cost . 6 VVhether the Kings weake counsels causes are That eu'ry thing so badly forteth out , Or that the Earle did of our state despaire , vvhen nothing prosper'd that was gone about , And therefore carelesse how these matters fare , ( I le not define , but leaue it as a doubt ) Or some vaine title his ambition lackt , Hatch'd in his breast this treasonable act . 7 VVhich now reueal'd vnto the iealous King , For apprehension of this tray't rous Peere , To the Lord Lucy leaues the managing , One whose knowne faith he euer held so deere , By whose dispatch , and trauell in this thing , ( He doth well worthy of his trust appeare ) In his owne Castell , carelesly defended , The trecherous Herckley closely apprehended . 8 For which ere long vnto his tryall led , In all the roabes befitting his degree , VVhere Scroope chiefe Iustice in King Edwards sted vvas now prepar'd his lawfull Iudge to be , Vrging the proofes by his enditement red , vvhere they his treasons euidently see , vvhich now themselues so plainly doe expresse , As might at first declare his bad successe . 9 His honor'd title backe againe restord , Noted with tearmes of infamie and scorne , And then disarmed of his knightly sword , On which his faith and loyaltie was sworne , And by a varlet of his spurres dispur'd , His coate of Armes in peeces hal'd and torne , To tast deserued punishment is sent , T'a trayterous death that trayterously had ment . 10 VVhen such the fauorers of this fatall war , vvhom this occasion doth more sharply whet , Those for this cause thet yet impris'ned are , Boldly attempt at liberty to set , vvhose purpose frustrate by the others care , Doth greater wounds continually beget ; vvarning the King more strictly looke about , These secret fires still daily breaking out . 11 And Hereford in Parlement accusd , Of treasons which apparantly were wrought , That with the Queene , and Mortimers were vsd , vvhereby subuersion of the Realme was sought , And both his calling , and his trust abusd , vvhich now to aunswere when he should be brought , Ceaz'd by the Clergy in the Kings despight , Vnder the colour of the Churches right . 12 VVhilst now the Queene from England day by day , That of these troubles still had certaine word , vvhose friends much blam'd her tedious long delay , vvhen now the time occasion doth afford , vvith better hast doth for herselfe puruay , Bearing prouision presently abord ; Ships of all vses daily rigging are , Fit'st for inuasion to transport a warre . 13 The Earle of Kent by 's soueraigne brother plac'd , As the great Generall of his force in Gwine , vvho in his absence here at home disgra'st , And frustrated both of his men , and coyne , By such lewd persons to maintaine theyr wast , From the Kings treasúres ceas'd not to proloyne , Th'lasciuious Prince , though mou'd regardlesse still Both of his owne losse , and his brothers ill . 14 VVhos 's discontentment beeing quickly found , By such as all aduantages await , That still apply'd strong corsiues to the wound , And by their sharpe and intricate deceit , Hindred all meanes might possibly redound , This fast-arising mischiefe to defeate , Vntill his wrongs vvere to that fulnesse growne , That they haue made him absolute their owne . 15 VVhose selfe-like followers in these faithlesse warres , Men most experienc'd , and of worthiest parts , vvhich for their pay receaued onely scarres , vvhilst the inglorious reap'd their due desarts , And Mineons hate of other hope debarres , vvith too much violence vrg'd their grieued harts , On Iohn of Henault wholy doe rely , vvho led a great and valiant company . 16 That in this conquest doe themselues combine , The Lords Pocelles , Sares , and Boyseers , Dambretticourt , the young and valiant Heyn , Estoteuill , Comines , and Villeers , Others his Knights , Sir Michaell de la Lyne , Sir Robert Balioll , Boswit , and Semeers . Men of great power , whom spoile and glory warmes , Such as were wholly dedicate to Armes . 17 Three thousand souldiers , mustred men in pay , Of French , Scotch , Almaine , Swiser , and the Dutch , Of natiue English , fled beyond the Sea , vvhose number neere amounted to asmuch , VVhich long had look'd for this vnhappy day , vvhom her reuenge did but too neerely tuch , Her friends now ready to receaue her in , And new commotions eu'ry day begin . 18 VVhen she for England fitly setting forth Spreading her proud sayles on the watry plaine , Shaping her course directly to the North , vvith her young Edward , Duke of Aquitaine , vvith th' other three of speciall name and worth , ( The destain'd scurges of his lawlesse raine ) Her souldier Beumount , with the Earle of Kent , And Mortimer , that mighty malcontent . 19 A for-wind now for Harwich fitly blowes , Blow not too fast to kindle such a fire , vvhilst with full saile , and fairer tide she goes , Turne gentle wind , and force her to retire , The fleet thou driu'st is fraughted with our woes , But winds , and seas doe Edwards wracke conspire , For when iust heauen to chastice vs is bent , All things conuert to our due punishment . 20 Thy coasts be kept with a continuall ward , Thy Beacons watch'd her comming to discry , O had the loue of subiects beene thy guard T 'had beene t' effect that thou didst fortifie , But whilst thou stand'st gainst for raine foes prepard , Thou art betrayd by thy home enemy , Small helpe by this thou art but like to win , Shutting death out , thou keep'st destruction in . 21 VVhen Henry , brother to that haplesse Prince , The first great engine of this ciuill strife , ( Deere Lancaster ) whom law did late conuince , And that at Pomfret left his wretched life , This Henry , in whose great hart euer since Reuenge lay couer'd , smoother'd vp in griefe , Like fire in some fat minerall of the earth Finding the least vent , giues it selfe a birth . 22 That beeing Earle Marshall , great vpon the coast , vvith bells , and bonfires welcomes her a shore , And by his office gath'ring vp an hoast , Showes the old malice in his breast he bore , Nor of his ●elpe abash'd at all to boast , The Clergies power in readines before , Vpon their friends a great taxation layd , To raise munition for the present ayde . 23 And to confu●ion all their power expose On the rent bosome of this I le , where long vvarre did it selfe so stedfastly inclose , ( vvarre from our owne lewd desolutenes sprong ) vvhom no inuasion euer yet could lose , So old the malice , and so great the wrong , Vrg'd with the force that forraine fire doth bring , A greater spoyle , and horror menacing . 24 This innouation by an altred state Lent this new action such a violent hand , That it thus boldly dare insinuate , On the cold faintnes of the feebled Land ; And beeing arm'd with all the power of fate , Finding a way so openly to stand To their intendments , which endeuoured well , Might get that height from whence at first they fell . 25 VVhen all their strength in order strictly set , All helps and doubts by warres best counsailes waid , vvhat well might further , what their course might let , And their reliefes conueniently had layd , A meane reseru'd , securitie to get , VVhereon at worst their fortune might be stayd , And furnish'd fully as themselues desir'd , Of all this action needfully requir'd . 26 And at Saint Edmonds doe a while repose , To rest themselues , and their new welcom'd force , Better to learne the manner of their foes , To th' end not vainely to direct their course , And seeing daily how the Armie growes , To take a full view both of foote and horse , VVith such discretion managing the war , Truly to shew them what indeede they are . 27 VVhen now the King of these proceedings hard , And of the troopes that to them daily runne , And little strength at London yet prepar'd , vvhere he expected fauour to haue wonne , He now commits the Citty to the guard , Of his approu'd most-trusted Stapleton , To Iohn of Eltham ( his faire sonne ) the Tower , Himselfe to VVales , to raise a speedy power . 28 Yet whilst his name doth any hope admit , Proclaimes in forfaite both of goods and life , All that enioy'd a subiects benefit , Should lend their power against his sonne , and wife , And doth all slaughters generally aquit vvere done vpon the moouers of this strise . And who could bring in Mortimers proud head , Should freely take th'reuenewes of the dead . 29 VVhich straight encountred by the Queenes edict , vvho making knowne the iustnes of her cause , That she proceeded in a course so strict T'vphold their ancient liberties and lawes ; Nor that she did this punishment inflict For priuate hate , or popular applause , Onely the Spensers to account to bring , vvhose wicked counsels had abusd the King. 30 VVhich ballasing the multitude that stood As a light Barck that 's tost twixt wind and tyde , Turn'd in the mixture of th'opposed flood vvhen yet opinion not their course could guide , And wau'ring thus in theyr inconstant mood Till by the weaknes of th' imperiall ●ide Suffers the seasure of it selfe at last , vvhich to the Queene all free aduantage cast . 31 VVhen friendlesse Edward followed by his foes , vvhom danger doth to recreant ●ight debase , As poore in hope , as he is rich in woes , Depriu'd all princely ornament and grace , vvhose force th'more weakned , further that he goes , His safety now suspecting eu'ry place ; No helpe at home , no succour seene abroade , His mind small rest , his body lesse aboad . 32 One scarce to him his sad discourse hath done Of Henaults power , and what the Queene intends , But whilst he speakes , another hath begunne , A third doth take it where the second ends , vvhen now abroad there 's other rumors runne , Some of new foes , some of reuolting friends , These scarsly past when more reports are spred , Of many that rebell , of many fled . 33 VVhat plagues doth Edward for himselfe prepare ? Forsaken King , ô whether doost thou flie ? Men change theyr clime , but sildome change their care , Thou fly'st thy foes , but follow'st misery , The euill fates in number many are That to thy footsteps doe themselues apply ; And still thy conscience prick'd with inward griefe Thy selfe pursues thy selfe , both robd , and thiefe . 34 Accepting succour offer'd next at hand , At last for VVales commits him to the seas ; And seeing Lundy that so faire doth stand , Puts in for succour ( need would faine haue ease ) This little modell of his banish'd Land , vvhich for a while his fancie seemes to please , Faine would he be King of a little I le , Although his Empire bounded in a mile . 35 And ready now to strike his prosp'rous saile , As vnder lee past danger of the flood , A suddaine storme of mixed sleet and hayle Not suffers him to rule this peece of vvood . vvhat doth thy labour , what thy toyle auaile , vvhen thou art still by greater powers with-stood ? Edward thy hopes all vainly doe delude , By Gods , and men , incessantly pursude . 36 In this blacke tempest long turmoild , and tost , Quire from their course , and well they know not where , Mongst rocks , and sands , in danger to be lost , VVithout in perrill , and within in feare , At length perceiuing they are neere the coast , And that the place more plainly doth appeare , Knowes by the Mountaines insolently tall , That part of VVales that we Glamorgan call , 37 To Neath , a Castell fortifi'd and strong , Commaunding entrance with his banish'd crue , The Earle of Gloster , worker of much wrong , The Chancelor Baldocke , that much euill knew , Reding his Marshall is the rest among , Heere hid from eyes , but not from enuies view , vvhere for a while committing them to dwell , vve must prepare more dreadfull things to tell . 38 You lighter Muses , leaue me , and be gone , Your weake complaints are matters much too slight , More horred plagues are heere approching on , Yee ghastly spirits that haunt the gloomy night , Lend me your shreekes t' expresse the depth of moane , vvith ghastly howling all approch my sight , And round about with funerall tapers stand , To giue a sad light , to my sadder hand . 39 Each line shall leade to some dire point of woe , And eu'ry cadence as a tortured cry , Now must my teares in such abundance flow , That they surround the circle of mine eye ; And whilst these great calamities I show , All loose affections stand you idely by , Once more our cleere Muse dips her wing in gore , The dreerest tale that pen did ere deplore . 40 New sorts of vengeance threatned to the earth , The raging Ocean past the bounds to rise , Strange apparitions , and prodigious birth , Vnheard of sicknesse , and mortalities , More inaccustom'd , and vnlook'd for dearth , New sorts of Meteors gazing from the skies , As what before had small or nothing bin , And onely now our miseries begin . 41 And whilst these discords and discentions breede , The Land layd naked to all offered ill , The lawlesse exile now returnes with speed , Not to defend his country , but to kill , And all the prisons desolutely freed , Both field and towne with wretchednes to fill . London first author of our latest shame , Soon'st that repent'st , most plagued for the same . 42 VVhos 's giddy commons mercilesse and rude , Let loose to mischiefe in this cursed day , Their hands in blood of Edwards friends imbrude , Neuer content till they were made away ; Th' implacable , and wicked multitude On the Lieuetenant Stapl●ton doe pray , vvho drag'd and torne by this tumultuous heape , Cut off his head before the Crosse in Cheape . 43 Read wofull Citty on thy ruin'd vvall , Thy sad destruction which is drawing nie , vvhere on thy gates is charractred thy fall , In mangled bodies thine Anatomy , Now thy lewd errors to a reckning call , vvhich may exstract teares from thy ruthlesse eye , And if the thicke ayre dim thy hatefull sight , Thy buildings are on fire to giue thee light . 44 Thy chanels serue for inck , for paper stones , And on the ground write murther , incest , rape , And for thy pennes , a heape of dead-mens bones , Let eu'ry letter be some monstrous shape , Thy poynts and accents be departing groanes , And let no vile , nor desperate act escape , And when with pride thou art againe ore'gon , Then take this booke , and sadly looke thereon , 45 Poore wretch dispoyl'd of thy late virgins name , Now for thy sinne what impious villaine shent , Black is my inck , but blacker thy defame , vvho shall reuenge whilst I thy state lament , vvhat might be done to remedy thy shame , vvhen now too late these mischiefes to preuent , Against these horrors thou doo'st idely striue . Thou seest thy selfe deuoured , yet aliue . 46 Thou want'st redresse , and tyrannie remorce , To whom should'st thou thy helplesse woes complaine ? But yeeld thy selfe to the adulterers force , Thy words vntimely , and returne in vaine , The more thou grieu'st , thy fault is still the worse ; This remedy there onely doth remaine , Dispoyld of fame , be prodigall of breath , And make thy life cleere by a resolute death . 47 For worlds that were , the present times complaine vvhen men might haue beene buried when they di'de , And children safely in their cradles laine , And when the husband might enioy his bride , vvhen in some bounds ill could it selfe containe , The sonne haue kneeld by 's fathers death-bed side , The liuing wrong'd , the dead no right can haue , The father sees his sonne to want a graue . 48 But t' is too late thy head-strong course t'recall , Depriu'd all feeling of externall feare , These deadly sounds by theyr continuall fall , Settle confusion in thy deafned eare , This is the last , ô would the worst of all , Shreeks be the musick thou deligt'st to heare , Armes thy attire , and wounds be all thy good , Thy end consists in rapine , and in blood , 49 Inglorious age of whom it should be said That all these mischieues did abound in thee , That all these sinnes should to thy charge be laid , From no calumnious , nor vile action free , O let not time vs with thy ills vpbrayd , Leaft feare what hath beene , argue what may be , And fashoning so a habit in the minde , Make vs alone the haters of our kind . 50 O powerfull heauen , in whose all-soueraine raine , Those thy pure bodies moue in harmonie , And by a strong , and euerlasting chaine , Together linck'd in sacred vnitie , In which you doe continually remaine , Stayd in one certaine course eternally , VVhy his due motion keepeth eu'ry star , Yet what they gouerne so irregular ? 51 Muse , in the course of this vnnaturall warre Tell me from whence this height of mischiefe grew , That in so short time spread it selfe so farre , vvhereon such strange calamities ensue ; The true occasions faithfully declare , O men religious , was the fault in you ? vvhich euen growne res●ie by your power , with-draw Your stifned necks , as freed from ciuill awe . 52 VVhat wonder then the people grow prophane , vvhen Churchmens liues giue lay men leaue to fall , Their former Doue-like humblenes disdaine , For coates of hayre , now clad in costly pall , The holy Ephod made a cloke for gaine , And what most cunning , most cannonicall , And blinde promotion shunnes that dangerous road , vvhich the old Prophets diligently troad . 53 Hence ist that God so slightly is ador'd , The rock remoou'd whereon our faith is grounded , Conscience esteem'd but as an idle word , vvhich weake before , by vaine opinion wounded , Professors liues so little fruite affoord , And in her sects religion lies confounded , The sacred things a merchandize become , None talkes of texts , and prophecying dumbe . 54 And of the former beeing thus possest , Like to the venom of infectious ayre That hauing got into the secret breast , Is not prescrib'd , nor long times staies it there ; But from this ground to seaze vpon the rest , The rancke contagion spreading eu'ry where , That ere this euill hath the vtmost done , The solid body lastly ouer-runne . 55 Cauels breake forth to cancell wholesome lawes , And catching hold vpon the publique weale , vvhere doubts should cease they rise in eu'ry clause , The sword that wounds , ordaind a salue to heale , One mischiefe still another forward drawes , Each striuing others vilenesse to conceale , By lewde corruptions in a needfull vse , Right cloakes all wrong , and couers all abuse . 56 VVhen now the King late taken to this hold , And in this poore imprisoned libertie , Liuing a death in hunger , want , and cold , Euen in depth of woe and misery , By hatefull treason secretly is sold , Before he could the trecherous drift espy , For when oppression's vp vnto the chin , vvho lends not hand to thrust him boldly in . 57 In th'lucklesse fortunes of this wretched King , vvhose person 's ceased by th' invading part , Vnto his friends sad matters menacing , vvith bloodlesse terror striking eu'ry hart , All expectation now discouraging , vvhen no euasion from the foe to start , And that the cloude which threatned greatest feare Rose , whence their hopes most brightest did appeare . 58 VVhich breaking in now with a generall force , On the two Spensers , from whose onely hate This warre first sprung , distracted in their course , Their latest power confined by their fate , Of whom there 's none takes pitty or remorce , vvhich to auoyde , as cankers of the state , The eldest first to death at Bristow led , vvhere hangd to death , his body quartered . 59 VVhen as the heyre to VVinchester late dead , The bloody lot to th' Earle of Gloster fell , Reding the Marshall , marshald with the dead , vvhen soone succeedes the Earle of Arundell To pay the forfaite of a reuerent head , Then Muchelden , and wofull Daniell , VVho followed him in his lasciuious wayes , Must goe before him to his fatall dayes . 60 Euen like some piller , on whose goodly height A pond'rous building onely doth depend , vvhich when not able to sustaine the weight , And that his strong backe hath begun to bend , As quite depriued of his former might , The massy load vnto the ground doth send , Crushing the lesser props , and murdring all That stand within the compasse of the fall . 61 That state whereon the strength of Princes leanes vvhose hie ascent we trembling doe behold , From whence by coynesse of their chast disdaines , Subiection is imperiously controld , Their earthly weaknes euermore explaines , Exalting whom they please , not whom they should , vvhen their owne fall ( showes how they fondly er'd ) Procur'd by those , vnworthily prefer'd . 62 Merit goes vnregarded , and vngrac'd , vvhen by his fauters ignorance held in , And Parasites in wisemens roomes are plac'd , Onely to sooth the great ones in their sin , From such whose gifts , and knowledge is debac'd There 's many strange enormities begin , Forging great wits into most factious tooles , vvhen mightiest men oft proue the mightiest fooles . 63 But why so vainly doe I time bestow The foule abuse of th'wretched world to chide , vvhose blinded iudgement eu'ry howre doth show vvhat folly weake mortality doth guide ? vvise was the man that laugh'd at all thy woe , My subiect still more sorrow doth prouide , And this late peace more matter still doth breed , To hasten that which quickly must succeed . The end of the fourth Canto . The fifth Booke of the Barrons warres . The Argument . Th' imprisoned King his gouernment forsakes , And to the Peeres his weakenes so excused , VVho him ere long from Leisters keeping takes , That with much woe his soueraigne Lord refused● His torturer of him a mockery makes , And basely , and reprochfully abused , By secret wayes to Berckley beeing led , And cruelly in prison murthered . 1 THe wretched King vnnaturally betrayd By lewd corruption of his natiue Land , From thence with speede to Kenelworth conuayd By th' Earle of Leister with a mighty band , Some few his fauourers quickly ouer-wayd , And now a present Parlement in hand , To ratifie the generall intent , His resignation of the gouernment . 2 Falne through the frailty of intemperate will , That with his fortunes it so weakely far'd , To vndergoe that vnexpected ill , For his deserued punishment prepar'd , The measure of that wretchednes to fill , To him alotted as a iust reward , Armes all with malice , either lesse or more , To strike at him , that strooke at all before . 3 And beeing a thing the commons daily craue ? To which the great are resolutely bent , Such forward helpes on eu'ry side to haue , T' effect their strong and forcible intent , vvhich now that speede vnto their action gaue , That ratifi'd by generall consent , Still hastneth on to execute the thing , vvhich for one ill , twoworse should shortly bring . 4 Bishops , Earles , Abbots , and the Barrons all , Each in due order as becomes the state , Set by the Heraults in that goodly hall , The Burgesses for places corporate , vvhom this great busnes at this time doth call , For the Cinque-ports the Barrons conuocate , And other Knights , for the whole body sent , Both on the South , and on the North of Trent . 5 From his impris'ning chamber clad in blacke Before th' assembly sadly he is brought , A dolefull hearse vpon a dead-mans backe , vvhose heauy lookes might tell his heauier thought , In which there doth no part of sorrow lacke , Nor fained action needs to greefe be taught , His funerall solemniz'd in his cheere , His eyes the mourners , and his legges the Beere . 6 Torleton as one select to this intent , The best experienc'd in this great affaire , A man graue , subtill , stout , and eloquente , First with faire speech th' assembly doth prepare , Then with a voyce austeere , and eminent , Doth his abuse effectually declare As winnes each sad eye , with a reuerent feare , vvith due attention drawing eu'ry eare . 7 The great exactions raised by the King , vvith whose full plenty he his Mineons fed , Himselfe and subiects so impourishing , And that deere blood he lauishly had shed , vvhich desolation to the Land should bring , And the chiefe cause by his leud riots bred , The losse in warre sustained through his blame , The during scandall to the English name . 8 Proceeding forward to the future good , That their dissignments happily intend , And with what vpright pollicie it stood , No after hopes their fortunes to amend , The resignation to his propper blood , That might the action lawfully defend , The present need that wild it strictly so , vvhose imposition they might not forslow . 9 Pardon me art , that striuing to be short , To this intent a speech deliuering , And that at full I doe not heare report Matters that tuch deposing of the King , My faithfull Muse , ô doenot thou exhort The after times to so abhord a thing , To show the reasons forcibly were layd , Out of thy feelings , what he might haue said . 10 The strong deliu'ry of whose vehement speech , Borne with a dauntlesse , and contracted brow , That with such sterne seuerity did teach His reasons more autentique to alow , vvhich the more easly made the dangerous breach , By the remembrance of a generall vow , To which they here must openly contest , vvhen Edward comes to consumate the rest . 11 His faire cheeke couer'd in pale sheers of shame , And as a dumbe shew in a swoune began , vvhere passion doth such sundry habits frame , As eu'ry sence a right tragedian , Truly to show from whence his sorrow came , Beyond the compasse of a common man , vvhere nature seemes a practiser in art , Teaching dispaire to act a liuely part . 12 Ah pitty doost thou liue , or wert thou not , Mortals by such sights haue to flint beene turned , Or what men haue beene , hath their seede forgot , Or was it neuer knowne that any mourned . In what so strangely are we ouer-shot ? Against our owne selfe hath our frailty spurned , Or teares hence forth abandon humane eyes , And neuer-more to pitty miseries . 13 He takes the crowne yet scornefully vnto him , vvith slight regard , as scarcely thinking on it , As though not sencelesse that it should forgoe him , And sildome casts a scornefull eye vpon it , vvould seeme to leaue it , and would haue it woe him , Then snatching it , as loth to haue forgone it , Yet putsit from him , yet he will not so , vvould faine retaine , what faine he would forgoe . 14 In this confused conflict of the mind , Teares drowning sighes , and sighes confounding teares , Yet when as neither , libertie could find , Oppressed with the multitude of feares , Stands as a man affrighted from his kinde , Greefe becomes sencelesse when too much it beares , vvhilst speech & silence striues which place should take , From his full bosome thus his sorrowes brake . 15 If that my title rightfully be planted , Vpon a true indubitate succession , Confirm'd by nations , as by nature granted , That freely hath deliuerd me possession , Impute to heauen sufficiency t' haue wanted , vvhich must denie it power , or you oppression , VVhich into question by due course may bring , The grieued wrongs of an annointed King. 16 That hallowed vnction by a sacred hand vvhich once was powr'd on this emperious head , vvhich wrough th'indument of a strict commaund , And round about me the rich verdure spred , Either my right in greater sted must stand , Or why in vaine was it so idely shed , vvhose prophanation and vnreuerent tuch , Iust heauen hath often punish'd alwayes much . 17 VVhen from the bright beames of our soueraine due , Descends the strength of your enated right , And prosperously deriues it selfe to you , As from our fulnes taking borrowed light , vvhich to your safeties alwaies firme , and true , vvhy thus repugne you by prepost'rous might ? But what heauen lent me vertuously t' haue vsed , Leaues to your power , what weakenesse hath abused . 18 But heere I doe resigne it to your King , Pausing hereat as though his tongue offended , vvith griping throwes seemes foorth that word to bring , Sighing a full point as he there had ended , O how that sound his grieued hart doth wring , vvhich he recalling gladly would haue mended . Things of small moment we can scarcely hold , But greefes that touch the hart , are hardly told . 19 But beeing past , he prosecutes in teares , Calming that tempest with a shower of raine , As he had stroue to keepe it from his eares . Quoth he , the leedgman to your soueraigne , O in his lips how vile that word appeares , vvhereat asham'd , doth sadly pause againe , Yes , yes , euen say so vnto him you beare it , I ft be young Edward that you meane shall weare it . 20 Let him account his bondage from that day That he is with the Diadem inuested , A glittering crowne hath made this hayre so gray , vvithin whose circle he is but arested , To true content this not the certaine way , vvith sweeter cates a meane estate is feasted , And when his proude feete scorne to tuch the mold , His head a pris'ner in a gayle of gold . 21 His subiects numbred , numbring of his care , And when with shouts the people doe begin , Let him suppose th' applause but prayers are T' escape the danger that they see him in , vvherein t'aduenture he so boldly dare ; The multitude hath multitudes of sin , And he that 's first to cry God saue the King , Is the first man doth newes of sorrow bring . 22 Appeasing tumults , hate cannot appease , So oth'd with deceits , and fed with flatteries , Thy selfe displeasing , other sought to please , Obey'd asmuch as he shall tyrannize , The least in safety beeing most at ease , Feare forcing friends , inforcing enemies , And when he sitteth in his great'st estate , His footstoole danger , and his chayre is hate . 23 Rayne he alone , whilst he no King was one Disarm'd of power , and here deiected is , By whose deposing he enioyes a throne , Nor should I suffer that , nor he doe this , I must confesse th' inheritance his owne , But whilst I liue it should be none of his , The sonne clymes vp , to thrust the father downe , And thus the crowned , left without a crowne . 24 Hauing perform'd this hard constrained part , His speech , his raine , the day all ioyntly ended , Strangly transform'd , not beeing what thou art , Car'd for of none , vnlook'd on , vnattended , Sadly departing , with a heauy hart , To his strong lodging straightly recommended , Left to bemoane his miserable plight , To the rude walls , and solitarie night . 25 VVhilst things are thus disastrously decreed , Sedicious libels eu'ry day are spred By such as like not of their violent deede , That he by force should be deliuered , vvhether his wrong , remorce in some did breed , That him at last vntimely pittied , Or else deuisd in pollicie by some , To cloake that mischiefe afterward to come . 26 And hate that each-where harkning still doth lurke And yet suspitious Edward is not sure , Thinking what blood with Leicester might worke , Or else what friends his name might him procure , vvhich yet their thoughts continually doth yrck The time he should at Kenelworth endure , Fore-thinke some place t'which secretly conuayde , Vnknowne his beeing , be secur'd from ayde . 27 And though the great to hide their close intent , ( Seeme nere so cleere from knowing those know ill ) Not vnprouided of the instrument VVhich they keepe ready to performe their will , Such haue th'in store to their damnation bent , In villanie notorious for their skill , Dishonest , desperate , mercilesse , and rude , To all vyle actions ready to intrude . 28 Matreuers and base Gurney are the men In this leud act that must confedered be , VVhose hatefull names pollute our maiden pen , But I intreate you be not grieu'd with me To whom the same doe worthily perteyne , Some boughes grow crooked from the straightest tree● Nor shall you be partakers of their shame , The fault lies in their deede , not in your name . 29 These secretly to Killing worth dispatch'd , Fitted of all things that their harts desire , At such a time as few their purpose watch'd , After whose busnes none is to enquire , vvhich by their warrant subtilly was match'd Onely to them knowne whether to retyre , Taking the King , his guardian to acquit , And to bestow him where they thought most sit . 30 VVith a crue of ribalds , villanous , and naught , As their coagents in this hatefull thing , To th' Earle of Leister their commission brought , Commaunding the deliu'ry of the King , vvhich ( with much griefe ) they lastly from him wrought , About the Castell closely houering , VVatching a time till silence , and the night , Might with conuenience priuiledge their flight . 31 VVith shamefull scoffes , and barbarous disgrace Him on a leane ill-fa●our'd Iade they set , In a vile garment , beggerly , and base , vvhich it should seeme they purposely did get , And in a wretched miserable case , Benum'd and beaten with the cold , and wet , Depriu'd of all repose and naturall rest , VVith thirst and hunger grieuously oprest . 32 Yet still suspitious that he should be knowne , They sha●e away his ornament of hayre , The last thing his that he could call his owne , Neuer left fortune any wight so bare , Such tyranny on King was neuer shone , Thus voide of comfort , were he voide of care , No , no , our ioyes are shadowes , and deceaue vs , But till our death , our sorrowes neuer leaue vs. 33 To which intent , when farthest from resort , Forcing him light from his poore weary beast , Vpon a mole-hili ( ô most sad report ) vvith puddle-water him they leudly drest , VVhilst at his woes and miseries they sport , An yron skull the Bason , like the rest , vvhose lothing eyes , in this more lothed glasse , vvell may discerne how much deformd he was . 34 Th'aboundant drops that from his eyes doe fall , A poole of teares still rising by this raine , vvhich wrastling with the water , and withall , A troubled circle makes it to retaine , His endlesse griefes vnto his minde might call , Billow'd with sighes like to a little maine , vvater with teares contending whether should Make water warme , or make the warme teares cold . 35 Vile traytors , hold of your vnhallowed hands , His brow the state of maiestie still beares , Dare you thus keepe your soueraigne Lord in bands , How can your eyes behold th'annointeds teares ? Or if your sight thus all remorce withstands , Are not your harts euen perced through your eares ? The mind is free , what ere afflict the man , Hee 's yet a King , doe fortune what she can . 36 VVho 's he should take what God himselfe hath giuen , Or spill that life his holy spirit infused , All powers be subiect to the power of heauen , VVrongs passe not vnreueng'd , how are excused , If of all sence griefe hath thee not bereauen , Rise Maiestie when thou art thus abused , O whether shall authoritie betake , vvhen in this sort , it doth it selfe forsake . 37 And in despight , and mockery of a Crowne , A wreath of grasse they for his temples make , VVhich when he felt , as comming from a swoune , And that his powers a little gan awake , Fortune ( quoth he ) thou doost not alwaies frowne , I see thou giu'st aswell as thou doost take , That wanting naturall couert for my braine , For that defect , thou lend'st me this againe . 38 To whom ô heauen should I my griefes complain● Since thou art iust , and prouident in all , How should this body naturall strength retaine , To suffer things so much innaturall ? My cogitations labour but in vaine , Except thou be partaker in my fall , And when at once so many mischiefes meet , By change of sorrow mak'st my torment sweet . 39 VVherefore my fate I should but fondly grutch , T is vaine contention when with heauen we striue , vvhich preordaines my miseries for such That by one woe , another should suruiue , To shew how it mortalitie can ●uch My wretchednes so strangely to contriue , That all my comfort in mishaps should rest , And else in nothing but misfortune blest . 40 To Berckley thus they lead this wretched King , The place of horror that was long fore-thought , vvhat power should suffer so defil'd a thing , Or can behold this murther to be wrought , That might the Nation into question bring , But that your wayes with iudgment still are fraught , Thus art thou hap'd into thy earthly hell , Now take thy leaue , and bid the world farewell , 41 Berckley , whose faire seate hath beene famous long Let thy faire buildings shreeke a deadly sound , And to the ayre complaine thy grieuous wrong , Keeping the figure of King Edwards wound , That as thou waxest old , theyr shame still yong , Their wretched footsteps printed on the ground , That when report shall lend their vile act breath , All tongues may ad damnation to their death . 42 The omenous Rauen with a dismall cheere Through his hoarce beake of following horror tells , Begetting strange imaginary feare , vvith heauy eccho's like to passing Bells , The howling dogge a dolefull part doth beare , As though they chym'd his latest burying knells , Vnder his eaue th buzzing shreechowle sings , Beating his windowes with her fatall wings . 43 And still affrighted in his fearefull dreames with raging fiends and goblins that he meets , Of falling downe from steepe Rocks into streames , Of tombes , of burialls , and of winding sheets , Of wandring helplesse in farre forraine Realmes , Of strong temptations by seducing sprites , VVherewith awak'd , and calling out for ayde , His hollow voyce doth make himselfe afraid . 44 Next comes the vision of his bloody raine . Masking along with Lancasters steme ghost , Of Barrons twenty eyght , or hang'd , or slaine , Attended with the rufull mangled host , That vnreueng'd yet all this while remaine , At Borough battell , and at Burton lost , Threatning with frownes , and trembling eu'ry lim , As through in peeces they would torture him . 45 And if it chaunce that from the troubled skies The least small starre through any chincke giue light , Straightwaies on heapes the thronging cloudes arise , As though the heauen were angry with the night . That it should lend that comfort to his eyes , Deformed shadowes glimpsing in his sight , As darknes for it would more darkned be , Through those poore crannies forc'd it selfe to see . 46 VVhen all th'affliction that they could impose , Euen to the full , and vtmost of their hate , Aboue his torment yet his strength arose , As nature made a couenaunt with fate , vvhen now his watchfull , and two wary foes , That cease not still his woes to aggrauate , All further helps suspected , to preuent , To take his life to Berckley closely sent . 47 And subtilly a letter fashioning , vvhich in the words a double sence doth beare , vvhich seemes to bid them not to touch the King , Shewing withall how vile a thing it were , But by false poynting , is another thing , And to dispatch him bids them not to feare , vvhich taught to finde , these murtherers neede no more , For which they stood too ready long before . 48 VVhere as he haps a Chronicle to finde Of former Kings , their raignes , their deaths , and deedes , vvhich some their lodg'd forgotten had behind , On which to passe the howers he falls to reede , Thinking thereby to recreate his mind , But in his breast this greater woe doth breed , For when deepe sorrow on the fansie seaseth , vvhat ere we see , our misery increaseth . 49 First of great VVilliam , conqueror of this I le , ( From whom hee 's tenth that in succession lies ) vvhose power inforc'd the Saxon to exile , Planting new lawes , and forraine subtilties , Force and subiection so to reconcile The punishment of Harolds tyrannies , vvhich he applies with arguments so strong To the due course of his just punish'd wrong . 50 Rufus his sonne , Duke Robert farre abroad , Receaues the rule in weakeinfeebled state , His fathers steps that euidently troad , Depressing those who had beene conquer'd late , vvishing release of this theyr grieuous load , Vnder the guidance of their former fate . The place for men that did to beasts intend , A bestiall life , had last a beastly end . 51 Henry the yong'st , his brother VVilliam dead , Taketh the crowne from his vsurpfull hand , Due to the eldest good Duke Roberts head , Bearing our Red-crosse in the Holy Land , vvhose force farre off so much diminished , That his returne disabled to withstand , vvhen those for whom th' vnnaturall warre was done , The sea deuours , he left without a sonne . 52 To Maude the Empresse he the scepter leaues , His onely daughter which by false pretext Stephen Earle of Bullaine forcibly bereaues , Henries false nephew in succession next , By which the Land a stranger warre receaues , vvherewith it grew so miserably vext , Till Stephen fayling , and his issue reft , T 'the heyres of Maude the regall scepter left . 53 The second Henry , Maude the Empresse sonne , Of th' English line Plantaginet the first , By Stephens death a glorious raigne begunne , vvhose youth prolong'd to make his age accurst , By his sonne Henries corronation , vvhich to his dayes much woe and sorrow nurst , vvhen those for whom he conquer'd , to make great , Abroade his townes , at home vsurp'd his seate . 54 Richard his sonne that after him succeedes , vvho not content with what was safely ours , A man lift vp to great and glorious deedes , Into the East transports our valiant powers , vvhere with his sword whilst many a Pagan bleedes , Relentlesse fate hasts on vntimely howres , And makes a period to this hopefull story , Euen in the spring and blossome of his glory . 55 VVhen him succeedes his faithlesse brother Iohn , Murth'ring young Arthur by oppresfull might , Climing by force to his vsurped throne , Iustly with poyson was repay'd his spight , His life , to all men is so hatefull growne , vvho greeues his wrongs that nere did any right ? That on the Cleargie tyrannously fed , vvas by the Cleargie iustly punished , 56 Henry his sonne now crowned very yong , vvho for the hate they to his Father bare , His state of raigning stood in question long , Or to be left vnto a strangers care , vvith whom the Barrons , insolent , and strong , For the old Charter in commotion are , vvhich his long raine so carefully attends Granting , his dayes in peace securely ends . 57 From him proceedes a Prince iust , wise , and sage , ( In all things happy but in him his sonne ) For whom euen nature did herselfe engage , More then in man , in this Prince to haue done , VVhose happy raigne , recur'd the former rage By the large bounds he to his Empire wone , As the first Edward , had the second beene , O what a flow of glory had we seene . 58 Turning the leafe , as finding vnawares vvhat day young Edward Prince of VVales was borne , vvhich letters seeme like magique charracters , Or to despight him they were made in scorne , Marking the paper like dis-figuring stars , O let that name ( quoth he ) from bookes be torne , Least in that place the sad displeased earth , Doe loathe it selfe as slandered with my birth . 59 From thence heereafter humaine birth exil'd , By th' earth deuour'd , or swallowed by the sea , And fame enquiring for that lucklesse child , Say t was abortiue , or else stolne away ; And least ô time thou be therewith defil'd , In thy vnnumbred course deuoure that day , Let all be done that power can bring to passe , Onely forget that such there euer was . 60 The troubled teares now standing in his eyes , Through which as glasses he is forc'd to looke , Make letters seeme as rondlets that arise By a stone cast into a standing brooke , Appearing to him in such various wise , And at one time such sundry fashions tooke , vvhich like deluding Monsters doe affright , And with their foule shapes te●rifie his sight . 61 VVhen on his saint bed falling downe at last , His troubled spirit foretelling danger nie , vvhen ( forth ) the doores a fearefull howling cast To let those in , by whom a King should die , vvhereat he starts amazed and agast , These ruthlesse villaines all vppon him flie , Sweet Prince , alas in vaine thou call'st for ayde By these accursed homecides betrayd . 62 O be not authors of so vile an act My blood on your posteritie to bring , which after times with horror shall distract , vvhen fame euen hoarce with age your shame shall ring , And by recounting of so vile a fact , Mortalitie so much astonishing , That they shall count theyr wickednes scarce sinne , To that which long before their time hath beene . 63 And if your hate be deadly , let me liue , For that aduantage angry heauen hath left , That except life , takes all that it could giue , But for iust vengeance should not quite bereft , Me yet with greater misery to grieue , Reserue a while this remnant of their theft , That , that which spent from th' rest should interdict me , Alone remaining , doth withall afflict me . 64 Thus spake this wofull and distressed Lord , As yet his breath found passage to and fro , vvith many a short pant , many a broken word , Many a sore grone , many agrieuous throw , vvhilst yet his spirit could any strength affoord , Though with much paine disburd'ning of his woe , Till lastly gasping by their maist'ring strength , His kingly hart subiects it selfe at length . 65 VVhen twixt two beds they close his wearied corse , Basely vncou'ring of his secret part , vvithout all humane pitty and remorce , vvith burning yron thrust him to the hart ; O that my Muse had but sufficient force T'explane the torment in the which thou art , vvhich whilst with words we coldly doe expresse , Thy paine made greater , that we make it lesse . 66 VVhen those in dead , and depth of all the night , Good simple people that are dwelling neare , From quiet sleepe whom care did now affright , That his last shreeke , and wofull cry doe heare , Euen pittying that miserable wight , As twixt compassion , and obedient feare , Lift theyr sad eyes with heauy sleepe opprest , Praying to heauen to giue the soule good rest . 67 Still let the buildings figh his bitter grones , And euermore his sad complaints repeate , And let the dull walls , and the sencelesse stones By the impression of his torment , sweat , As wanting sounds where-with to shew his mones , vvith all sharpe paine and agony repleate , That all may thether come that shall be told it , As in a mirror cleerely to behold it . 68 VVhen now the Genius of this wofull place , Beeing the guide to his affrightfull ghost , vvith hayre disheueld , and a gastly face , Shall haunt the prison where his life was lost , And as the denne of horror and disgrace Let it be fearefull vnto all the coast , That those heereafter that doe trauell neere , Neuer behold it but with heauy cheere . The end of the fith Canto . The sixth Booke of the Barrons warres . The Argument . Lord Mortimer made Earle of March ; when he And the faire Queene rule all things by their might , The pompe wherein at Notting ham they be , The cost wherewith their amorous court is dight , Enuide by those their hatefull pride that see , The King attempts the dreadfull Caue by night , Entring the Castell , taketh him from thence , And March , at London dies for the offence . 1 INforc'd of other accidents to sing , ( Bearing fayre showes of promised delite Somewhat to slacke this melancholy string ) That new occasions to our Muse excite , To our conceit strange obiects fashioning , Doth our free numbers liberally inuite , Matter of moment much to be respected , Must by our pen be seriously directed . 2 And now the time more cunningly redeeming , These fraudfull courses fitly to contriue , How ill so ere , to beare the fayrest seeming , For which they now must diligently striue , Casting all waies to gaine thesame esteeming , That to the world it prosperously might thriue , This farre gone on , now with the hand of might , Vpon this wrong to build a lasting right . 3 The pompous synod of these earthly Gods At Salsbury selected by theyr King , To set all euen that had beene at ods , And into fashion their dissignes to bring , And strongly now to settle their abodes That peace might after from their actions spring , Firmly t' establish what was well begone , Vnder which colour mighty things were done . 4 VVhen Mortimer pursuing his desire , VVhilst eu'ry engine had his temperate heate , To b'Earle of March doth suddainly aspire , T' increase the honour of his auncient seate , That his commaund might be the more entire ; VVho now but onely Martimer is great ? vvho knew a kingdome as her lot was throwne , vvhich hauing all , would neuer starue her owne . 5 Now stand they firme as those celestiall Poles Twixt which the starres in all their course doe moue , vvhose strenght this frame of gouernment vpholds , An argument their wisedomes to approue , vvhich way so ere the time in motion roles , So perfect is the vnion of their loue , For might is still most absolute alone , vvhere power and fortune kindly meete in one . 6 VVhilst Edwards nonage giues a further speede To th' ancient foe-man to renew the warre , vvhich to preuent they must haue speciall heede , Matters so strangly manag'd as they are , vvhich otherwise if their neglect should breede , Nothing yet made , it might not easily marre , vvhich with the most , reseruing their estate , Inforc'd to purchase at the deerest rate . 7 So much t'release the homage as suffic'd , Mongst which that deed nam'd Ragman , of renowne By which the Kings of Scotland had deuisd Their fealty vnto the English crowne , vvith other Reliques that were highly priz'd , vvas that which forc'd the greatest part to frowne , Th'black Crosse of Scotland ( men did omenous deeme ) Beeing a Relique of so hie esteeme . 8 To colour which , and to confirme the peace , They make a marridge twixt the Scot and vs , To giue more strength vnto this strange release , vvhich vnto all men seem'd so dangerous vvhilst Roberts raigne , and after his decease , The league might euer be continued thus , Dauid the Prince , the Lady lane should take , vvhich twixt the Realmes a lasting bond should make . 9 VVhen th' Earle of Kent that beeing one of those vvhich in their actions had a powerfull hand , Perceiuing them of matters to dispose To the subiection of so great a land , Finding the inconuenience that growes Vnder the guidance of their wilful hand , To shake their power whilst he strangly doth cast , His fatall end too violently doth hast . 10 VVhich giuing out his brother yet to liue , ( Long now supposed the deceased King ) Vnto his Nephew might that scandall giue , As into question might his title bring ; Ill this report began , and worse it thriue , Beeing so foule , and dangerous a thing , vvhich beeing the motiue of intestine strife , The time not long ere it bereft his life . 11 VVhilst Edward takes what late their power did giue , VVhose nonage craues their bountifull protection , vvhich know to rule , whilst he must learne to liue , From their experience taking his direction , vvhich more and more their doubtfull hopes reuiue , vvhen borne to raine , yet crown'd by their election , Th'alegiance duly doth to him belong , Now makes their faction absolutely strong . 12 Prouiding for protection of the King , Men of most power , and noblest of the Peeres , That no distaste vnto the Realme might bring , For ripened iudgment , or well-seasoned yeeres , vvith comlines all matters managing , Yet whilst they row , t is Mortimer that steeres , VVell might we thinke the man were worse then blind , That wanted sea-roomth , and could rule the wind . 13 To smooth the path wherein this course was gone , vvhich as a test might to their actions stand , And giue more full possession of their owne , In beeing receaued from a soueraine hand , Into their bosoms absolutely throwne , Both for the good , and safety of the Land , vvhen their proceedings colour'd with this care , To the worlds eye so faite an out-side bare . 14 All complement that appertayn'd to state , By giuing greatnes eu'ry honored rite , To feede those eyes that did theyr howers awaite And by all meanes to nourish their delight , That entertayning loue , they welcome hate , And with free bounty equally inuite , A Princes wealth in spending still doth spred , Like to a brooke with many fountaines fed . 15 To Nottingham the Norths emperious eye , vvhich as a Pharus guards the goodly soyle , And arm'd by nature danger to defie , There to repose him safely after toyle , vvhere treason least aduantage might espie , Closely conuayes this great invalued spoyle , That by resyding from the publique sight , He might more freely relish his delight . 16 Nine score in check attending in their Court , vvhom honoured Knight-hood knits in mutuall bands , Men most select , of speciall worth , and sort , Much might they doe that haue so many hands , vvho payes not tribute to this Lordly port ? This hie-rear'd Castell eu'ry way commaunds , Thus like those Gyants , gainst great heauen they rise , vvhich darted Rocks at the emperiall skies . 17 It seemes in him fame meanes her power to show , And twixt her wings to beare him through the skie , He might more easly see the things below , Hauing aboue them mounted him so hie , Vnto whose will they meekly seeme to bow , Vnder whose greatnes meaner powers doe lie , All things concurre with faire succesfull chance , To raise that man whom fortune will aduance . 18 Here all along the flower enamil'd vales , The siluer-Trent on pearly sands doth slide , And to the Medowes telling wanton tales , Her christall lyms lasciuiously in pride , ( As rauished with the enamored gales ) vvith often turnings casts from side to side , As loth she were the sweete soyle to forsake , And cast herselfe into the Germane Lake . 19 Neere whom faire Sherwood wildly bent to roue , Twynes her loose armes about the flattering towers , By the milde shadowes of her scattered groue , Lends vvinter shelter , and giues sommer bowers , As with the flood in curtesie it stroue , And by repulsing the sharpe Northerne showers , Courts the proude Castell , who by turning to her , Smiles to behold th'lasciuious vvood-nimph wooe her . 20 VVho beeing retyr'd so strictly to this place , To this faire sted the Princes person drawes , vvhen fortune seemes their greatnes to imbrace , That as a working and especiall cause , Effects each formall ceremonious grace , As by her iust , and necessary lawes , That in the towne retaines his kingly seat , vvith Marches Court the Castell is repleat . 21 Occasion'd where , in counsels , to debate And by the King conueniently is met , So soueraigne , and magnificent in state , As might all eyes vpon his greatnesse set , Prizing his honor at that costly rate As to the same due reuerence might beget , VVhich as the obiect sundry passions wrought , Stirring strange formes , in many a wandring thought . 22 Could blind ambition finde , the meanest stay His disproportion'd and vaine course to guide , T' assure some safety in that slippery way vvhere the most worldly prouident doe slide , Feeling the steepe fall threatning sure decay , Besotted in the wantonnesse of pride , The minde assuming absolurer powers , Might check the fraile mortality of ours . 23 But still in pleasure sitting with excesse , His sauory iunckets tasted with delight , Nere can that glutton appetite suppresse , vvhere euery dish inuites a licorish sight . Nor hauing much , is his desire the lesse , Till tempted past the compasse of his might , The pampered stomack more then well suffic'd , Casts vp the surfet lately gurmundiz'd . 24 And when some brooke from th'ouer-moistned ground By swelling waters proudly ouer-flow'd , Stoppeth his current , shouldreth downe his mound , And from his course doth quite himselfe vnloade , The bord'ring Meddowes eu'ry where surround , Dispersing his owne riches all abroade , Spending the store he was maintained by , Leaues his first channell desolate and dry . 25 VVhen now those few that many teares had spent , And long had wept on murthered Edwards graue , Muttring in corners , grieu'd , and discontent , And finding some a willing eare that gaue , Still as they durst , bewraying what they meant , Tending his pride and greatnes to depraue , Vrging withall , what some might iustly do , If things thus borne , were rightly look'd into . 26 Some giue it out , that March by blood to rise Had cut of Kent , the man might next succeede , And his late treasons , falsly did surmise As a meere colour to this lawlesse deede , That his ambition onely did deuise , In time the royall family to weede , vvhen in account there was but onely one That kept him of from stepping to the throne . 27 And those much bufied in the former times , Then credulous that honour was his end , And by the hate they bare to others , crimes , Did not his faults so carefully attend , Perceiuing how he desolutly climes , ( Hauing thus brought his purpose to an end ) vvith a seu●re eye now more strictly looke Into the course that his ambition tooke . 28 All fence the tree that serueth for a shade , vvhose large growne body doth repulse the wind , Vntill his wastfull branches doe inuade , The straighter plants , and them in prison bind , And as a tyrant to the weaker made ; vvhen like a foule deuourer of his kind , Vnto his roote all put their hands to hew , vvhose roomth but hinders other that would grow . 29 Thus at his ease whilst he securely sate , And to his will these things assured were , vvith a well-gouern'd , and contented fate , Neuer so much freed from suspicious feare , vvell fortifi'd , and in so good estate , As not admits of danger to be neare . But still we see before a suddaine shower , The sunne shines hot'st , and hath the greatest power . 30 VVithin the Castell hath the Queene deuis'd A chamber with choyce rarities so frought , As in the same she had imparadiz'd Almost what man by industrie hath sought , VVhere , with the curious Pensill was compriz'd , vvhat could with colours by the Art be wrought , In the most sure place of the Castell there , vvhich she had nam'd the Tower of Mortimer . 31 An orball forme with pillers small compos'd , VVhich to the top like Paralels doe beare , Arching the compasse where they were inclos'd , Fashioning the faire Roofe like the Hemisphere , In whose partitions by the lines dispos'd , All the cleere Northerne Asterismes were , In their corporeall shapes with starres inchased , As by th' old Poets they in heauen were placed . 32 About which lodgings , towards the vpper face , Ran a fine bordure circularly led , As equall twixt the hi'st poynt , and the base , That as a Zone the waste ingerdled , That lends the sight a breathing , or a space Twixt things neere view , and those farre ouer-head , Vnder the which , the Painters curious skill , In liuely formes the goodly roome did fill . 33 Heere Phoebus clipping Hyacintbus stood , vvhose liues last drops his snowy breast imbrew , The ones teares mixed with the others blood , That shoul't be blood or teares , no sight could view , So mix'd together in a little flood , Yet heere and there they seu'rally withdrew , The pretty VVoodnimphs chasing him with Balme , To bring the sweet boy , from this deadly qualme . 34 VVith the Gods Lire , his Quiuer , and his bow , His golden Mantle cast vpon the ground , T' expresse whose griefe , Art euen her best did show The sledge so shadowed still seem'd to rebound , To counterfet the vigor of the blow , As still to giue new anguish to the wound , The purple flower sprung from the blood that runne , That openeth since , and closeth with the sunne . 35 By which the Heyfor Io , Ioues fayre rape , Gazing her new tane figure in a Brooke , The water shadow'd to obserue the shape , In the same forme that she on it doth looke . So cunningly to cloude the wanton scape , That gazing eyes , the portrature mistooke , By prospectiue deuisd beholding now , This way a Maiden , that way't seem'd a Cow. 36 Swift Mercury like to a Shepheards boy , Sporting with Hebe by a Fountaine brim . vvith many a sweet glance , many an amerous toy , He sprinckling drops at her , and she at him , vvherein the Painter so explan'd their ioy , As though his skill the perfect life could lym , Vpon whose browes the water hung so cleere , As through the drops the faire skin might appeare . 37 And Ciffy Cyntbus with a thousand byrds , vvhose freckled plumes adorne his bushy crowne , Vnder whose shadow graze the stragling heards , Out of whose top the fresh Springs trembling downe , Dropping like fine pearle through his shaggy beards , vvith mosse and climing Iuy ouer-growne , The Rocke so liuely done in eu'ry part , As nature could be paterned by Art. 38 The naked Nimphs some vp and downe descending , Small scattering flowers at one another flung , vvith nimble tumes their limber bodies bending , Cropping the blooming branches lately sprung , ( Vpon the bryers theyr coloured Mantels rending ) vvhich on the Rocks grew heere and there among , Some combe their hayre , some making garlands by , As with delight might satisfie the eye . 39 There comes proude Phae●on tūbling through the cloudes , Cast by his Palfrayes that their raines had broke , And setting fire vppon the welked shrowds , Now through the heauen runne madding from the yoke , The elements together thrust in croudes , Both Land and Sea hid in a reeking smoke , Drawne with such life , as some did much desire , To warme themselues , some frighted with the fire . 40 The riuer Po , that him receauing burn'd , His seauen sisters standing in degrees , Trees into women seeming to be turn'd , As the Gods turn'd the women into trees , Both which at once so mutually that mourn'd , Drops from their boughes , or teares fell from theyr eyes , The fire seem'd to be water , water flame , Such excellence in showing of the same . 41 And to this lodging did the light inuent That it should first a latterall ●ourse reflect , Through a short roome into the window sent , vvhence it should come expressiuely direct , Holding iust distance to the lyneament , And should the beames proport ' onably proiect , And beeing there by condensated and graue , To eu'ry figure a sure colour gaue . 42 In part of which , vnder a golden Vine , vvhose broad-leau'd branches cou'ring ouer all , Stoode a rich bed , spred with this wanton twine , Doubling themselues in their lasciuious fall , vvhose rip'ned clusters seeming to decline , vvhere as among the naked Cupids spraule , Some at the sundry coloured birds doe shute , Some swaruing vp , to plucke the purple fruite . 43 On which a Tissue counterpoint was cast , Arachnes web the same did not surpasse , vvherein the story of his fortunes past , In liuely pictures neatly handled was , How he escap'd the Tower , in France how grac'd , vvith stones embroyd'red of a wondrous masse ; About the border in a curious fret , Emblems , Empresas , Hiroglifiques set . 44 This flattering calme , congeales that thickned shower , vvhich the full cloudes of poysnous enuy fed , vvhose desolution waits th' unhappy hower , To let the fury on his hatefull head , vvhich now was of that violence and power , As his delights yet not imagined , VVhen men suppose in safety most to stand , Then greatest dangers are the neer'st at hand , 45 Yet finding the necessity is such , To execute what he doth vndertake , And that his crowne it did so neerely touch If they too soone his sleeping power awake ; Th' attempt was great , the danger was asmuch , Must secretly prouide some course to take , By which he might th' enterprise effect , And most offend , where he might least suspect . 46 A deepe blacke Caue low in the earth is found , vvhose duskie entrance like pale Morpheus Cell , vvith strange Meanders windeth vnder ground , vvhere sooty darknes euer-more doth dwell , That with such dread and horror doth abound As might be deem'd an entrance into hell , vvhich Architects to serue the Castell made , vvhen as the Dane this Iland did inuade . 47 Now on along this cranckling path doth keepe , Then by a Rocke turnes vp another way , Now rising vp , now falling towards the deepe , As the ground leuell , or vnleuell lay , And now direct , now anguler doth creepe , Nor in the course keepes any certaine stay . Till in the Castell in a secret place , He casts the foule Maske from his cloudy face . 48 By which the King with a selected crue , Of such as he with his intent aquainted , And well affected to this action knew , That in reuenge of Edward neuer fainted , And to their vtmost zealously pursue , Such whose cleere blood no time had euer taynted , Ad●entures now this Labirinth t' assay , To rouze the beast which kept them all at bay , 49 VVhat time the Sunne , with his day-labouring teames Is dryuing downe vnto the VVest apace , T'refresh his cauples in the Ocean streames , And coole the feruor glowing in his face , VVhich now appeares by his hie-coloured beames , To rest him from our Hemisphere a space , Leauing foule darknes to possesse the skies , The fittest time for bloody tragedies , 50 VVith torches now attempting the sad Caue , vvhich at their entrance seemeth in a fright , At the reflection that the brightnes gaue , As till that time it neuer saw the light , vvhere light and darknes , with the power they haue , Strongly for the preheminence doe fight , And each confounding other , both appeare As to their owne selues they contrary were . 51 The craggy cleeues which crosse them as they goe , Make as theyr passage they would haue denyde , And threatning ther● their iourny to forslow , As angry with the path that was their guide , As they their griefe , and discontent would show , Cursing the hand that did them first deuide . The combrous falls , and risings seeme to say , This wicked action could not brooke the day . 52 The gloomy lamps this troope still forward led , Forcing the shadowes follow on their backe , Are like the mourners waiting on the dead , And as the deede , so are they vgly blacke ; Hate goes before , confusion followed , The sad portents of blood-shed , and of wrack , These faint dym-burning lights as all amazed , At those deformed shades whereon they gazed . 53 The clattering Armes their Maisters seeme to chide , As they would reason wherefore they should wound , And striking with the po●nts from side to side , As though euen angry with the hollow ground That it this vile and ruthlesse act should hide , vvhose stony roofe lock'd in their dolefull sound , And hanging in the creekes , draw backe againe , As willing them from murther to refraine . 54 Now wexing late , and after all these things Vnto her chamber is the Queene withdrawne , To whom a choyce Musition playes and sings , Reposing her vpon a state of Lawne , In night attyre diuinely glittering , As th'approching of the cheerefull dawne , Leaning vpon the breast of Mortimer , vvhose voyce more then the Musicke pleasd her eare . 55 VVhere her fayre breasts at liberty are let , vvhere violet vaines in curious branches flow , vvhere Venus Swans , and milkie Doues are set , Vpon the swelling mounts of driuen snow , vvhere Loue whilst he to sport himselfe doth get , Hath lost his course , nor finds which way to goe . Inclosed in this Labyrinth about , vvhere let him wander still , yet nere get out . 56 Her loose gold hayre , ô gold thou art too base , vvere it not sinne to name those silke threds hayre , Declyning downe to kisse herfayrer face , But no word fayre enough , for thing so fayre , O what hie wondrous Epethite can grace Or giue the due prayse to a thing so rare ! But where the pen fayles , pensill cannot show it , Nor can be knowne vnlesse the mind doe know it . 57 She layes those fingers on his manly cheeke , The Gods pure scepters , and the darts of loue , vvhich with a touch might make a Tyger meeke , Or the maine Atlas from his place remoue , So soft , so feeling , delicate , and sleeke , As Nature ware the Lillies for a gloue , As might beget life where was neuer none , And put a spirit into the flinty stone . 58 The fire of precious wood the lights perfume , vvhose perfect cleernes on the painting shone , As eu'ry thing to sweetnesse did consume , Or eu'ry thing had sweetnes of it owne , And to it selfe this portrayed did resume The smell where with his naturall is growne , That light gaue colour on each thing it fell , And to the colour the perfume gaue smell . 59 Vpon the sundry pictures they deuise , And from one thing they to another runne , Now they commend that body , then those eyes , How well that bird , how well that flower was done , Now this part shaddowed , and how that doth rise , This top is clouded , and that traile is spunne , The landskip , mixtures , and dilineatings , And in that Art a thousand curious things . 60 Looking vpon proude Phaeton wrapd in fire , The gentle Queene doth much bewaile his fall , But Mortimer more praysing his desire , To loose a poore life , or to gouerne all ; And though he did ambitiously aspire , And by his minde is made proude Fortunesthrall , Yet in despight when she her worst hath done , Hee perish'd in the Chariot of the Sunne . 61 The Queene saith Phoebus is much forc'd by Art , Nor can she find how his embraces be , But Mortimer now takes the Painters part , vvhy thus great Empresse , thus , and thus , quoth he , Thus holds the Boy , thus clips his fainting hart , Thus twyne their armes , and thus their lips you see ; You shall be Phoebus , Hyacinthus I , It were a life thus eu'ry howre to die . 62 By this time neere , into the vpperhall Is rudely entred this disordered rout , vvhen they within suspecting least of all , Discharg'd the guard that should haue watch'd without ; O see how mischiefe suddainly doth fall , And steales vpon vs , beeing free'st from doubt , How ere the life , the end is euer sure , And oft in death fond man is most secure . 63 VVhilst his lou'd Neuill , and deere Turrington , Amongst the Ladies that attended there , Relating things that anciently were done , vvith such discourse as women loue to heare . Staying delight , whilst time so fast doth runne , Thus in the Lobby as they freely were Charg'd on the suddaine by this armed trayne , Both in the entrance miserably slaine . 64 As from the snow-crown'd Skidos lofty cleeues , Some fleet-wing'd haggard towards the euening hower , Stooping amongst the More-bred Mallard driues , And th' ayre of all her feath'red flocks doth skower , vvhen backe vnto her former pitch she striues , The silly fowle all prostrate to her power , Such a sharpe shreeke doth ring through all the vault , Made by the Ladies at the first assault . 65 March now vnarm'd ( she onely in his armes , Too faire a shield , not made for fouler blowes ) That least of all expected these alarmes , And to be thus intrapped by his foes , vvhen he is most inprouident of harmes ; O had he had but weapons like his woes , Either his valure had his breath redeem'd , Or in her sight dy'd happily esteem'd . 66 Amongst the others looking for the King In this blacke show that ( he assures him ) is , Though much disguis'd , yet him imagining By the most perfect lyneaments of his , Quoth he the man thee to the Crowne did bring , Might at thy hands the least haue look'd for this , And in this place , vnseeming of the rest , vvhere onely sacred solitude is blest . 67 Her presence frees th' offender of his ill , And as the Essence , makes the place diuine , VVhat strong Decree can countermaund the will That gaue to thee the power that now is thine , And in her armes preseru'd in safety still , As the most pure inviolable shrine , Though thou thus irreligiously despise , And da●'st prophane these hallowed liberties , 68 But as when Illion fatally surpriz'd , The Grecians issuing from the woodden horse , Their rage and fury proudly exercis'd , Opening the wide gates , letting in their force , Putting in act what was before deuis'd , vvithout all sence of pitty or remorce , vvith cryes , shreekes , rumors in confused sound , vvords are broke of , complaints abruptly drown'd . 69 Dissolu'd to drops she followes him , ô teares , Elixar like turne all to pearle you touch , To weepe with her , the building scarse forbeares , The sorrowes that she vttereth are such , Able to wound th'impenitrabl'st eares , Her plaints so piercing , and her woes so much , VVhen with th' abundance words would hardly come , Her eyes in silence spake , when lips were dumbe . 70 Sweetsonne ( quoth she ) let not that blood be spilt , Once priz'd so deare as did redeeme thy Crowne , vvhose purity if taynted now with guilt , The cause thereof efficiently thine owne , That from the ruines of thy country built , ( Raz'd with dissentions ) thy substanciall throne , And broke those bounds thy kingdoms once confind , Into large France , to exercise thy mind . 71 For the deere portion of that naturall blood , vvhich lends thee heate , and nutriment of life , Be not a niggard of so small a good , vvhere bounty should be plentifully rife , Beg'd on those knees at which thou oft hast stood , In those armes cercles might coniure this strife , O God that breath from such a bosome sent , Should thus in vaine be prodigally spent . 72 VVhen in this vprore with the suddaine fright , vvhilst eu'ry one for safety seekes about , And none regarding to preserue the light , vvhich beeing wasted sadly goeth out , Now in the mid'st and terror of the night , At the departutre of this Armed rout , The Queene alone ( at least if any ne●re ) Her wretched women , yet halfe dead with feare . 73 VVhen horror , darknes , and her present woe , Begin to worke on her afflicted mind , And eu'ry one his tyranny doth show , Euen in the fulnes of his proper kind , In such excesse her accusations flow ; This liberty vnto their power assignd , Racking her conscience by this torture due , It selfe t' accuse with what so ere it knew . 74 O God to thinke ( that not an howre yet past ) Her greatnes , freedome , and her hopes so hie , The sweet content wherein her thoughts were plac'd , Her great respect in eu'ry humbled eye , How now she is abused , how disgrac'd , Her present shame , her after misery , VVhen eu'ry woe could by dispaire be brought , Presents his forme to her distracted thought . 75 To London now a wretched prisner led , London where oft he tryumph'd with the Queene , And but for spight of no man followed , Scarcely thought on who had for many beene , Of all regard and state impo●'rished , VVhere in excesse he often had beene seene , vvhich at his fall doth make them wonder more , vvho saw the pompe wherein he liu'd before . 76 O misery , where once thou doost infest , How soone thy vile contagion alters kind , That like a Circe meta morphisest The former habite of the humane mind , That euen from vs doo'st seeme our selues to wrest , Striking our fraile , and fading glories blind , And with thy vicious presence in a breath , Chain'st vs as slaues vnto pale fainting death . 77 At VVestminster a Parliment decreed , To th'establishing the safety of the crowne , vvhere to his end they finally proceede , All laying hand to dig this Mountaine downe , To which time wills they haue especiall heede , Now whilst the Fates thus angerly doe frowne , The blood of Edward , and the Spensers fall , For their iust vengeance hastily doe call . 78 The death of Kent that foule and lothsome blot , Th'assuming of the wards and liueries , vvith Ione the Princesse maried to the Scot , The summes oft seazed to his treasuries , And that by this , might well haue beene forgot , The signe at Stanhope to the enemies , Or what else rip'd from the records of time , That any way might agr●uate his crime . 79 O dire Reuenge , when thou in time art rak'd , From the rude ashes which preseru'd thee long , In the dry cindars , where it seem'd as slak'd , Matter to feed it , forc'd with breath of wrong , How soone his hideous fury is awak'd , From the small sparks what flames are quickly sprong , And to that top doth naturally aspire , vvhose weight , and greatnes once represt his fire . 80 And what auailes his aunswere in this case , vvhich now the time doth generally distast , vvhere iudgement lookes with so seuere a face , And all his actions vtterly disgrac'd , vvhat fainting bosome giues him any place , From out the faire seate of opinion cast , VVith pen and incke his sorowes to deceaue , Thus of the fayre Queene takes his latest leaue . 81 Most mighty Empresse , s'daine not to peruse The Swan-like dirges of a dying man , Vnlike those raptures of the fluent Muse In that sweet season , when our ioyes began , That did my youth with glorious fire infuse , vvhen for thy gloue at tylt I proudly ran , VVhereas my startling Courser , strongly se● , Made fire to flie from Hartfords-Burgonet . 82 The King your sonne , which hastneth on my death , ( Madam ) you know I tendred as myne owne , And when I might haue grasped out his breath , I set him gently on his Fathers throne , vvhich now his power too quickly witnesseth , vvhich to this height and maiestie is growne ; But our desert forgot , and he forgiuen , As after death we wish to liue in heauen . 83 And for the sole rule whereon thus he stands , Came bastard VVilliam but himselfe on shore , Or borrowed not our fathers conqu'ring hands , vvhich in the field our auncient Ensignes bore , ( Guarded about with our well-ordred bands ) vvhich his proud Leopards for their safety wore , Raging at Hastings like that omenous Lake From whose dread waues our glorious name we take . 84 Had I beene charg'd vpon mine Armed horse , As when I came vnto the walls of Gaunt , Before the Belgick , and Burgonian force , There challenging ; my Countries Combattant , Borne from my seate in some robustious course , That of my spoiles the enemy might vaunt ; Or had I falne vnder my battered shield , And lent mine honor to some conquered field . 85 I haue not followed fortune like a slaue , To make her bounty any whit the lesse , By my desart her iudgement to depraue , Nor lent me ought I freely not confesse , And haue return'd with intrest what shee gaue , A minde that suted with her mightinesse , He twice offends , which sinne in flattry beares , Yet eu'ry howre he dies that euer feares . 86 I cannot feare what forceth others quake , The times and I haue tug'd together so , vvonting my way through sword and fire to make , So oft constrain'd against the streame to row , To doubt with death a couenant to make , vvhen I am growne familiar with my woe , And nothing can th' afflicted conscience grieue , But he can pardon , that doth all forgiue . 87 And thus thou most adored in my hart , vvhose thoughts in death my humbled spirit doth raise , Lady most fayre , most deere , of most desart , VVorthy of more then any mortall praise , Condemned Marcb , thus lastly doth depart , From her the greatest Empresse of her dayes , Nor in the dust mine honor I inter , Thus Caesar dy'd , and thus dies Mortimer . 88 To Nottingham this Letter brought vnto her , vvhich is subscrib'd with her Emperious stile , Puts her in mind how once that hand did wooe her , vvith this short thought to please herselfe awhile , Thus sorrow can so subtilly vndoe her . That with such flattery doth her sence beguile , To giue a sharper feeling to that paine , vvhich her grieu'd hart was shortly to sustaine . 89 Putting her fingers to vnrip the seale , Cleauing to keepe those sorrowes from her eyes , As it were loth the tydings to reueale , vvhence griefe should spring in such varieties , But strongly vrg'd doth to her will appeale , vvhen the soft waxe vnto her touch implies , Sticking vnto her fingers bloody red , To shew the bad newes quickly followed . 90 Thus by degrees she eas●y doth begin , As the small fish playes with the bayted hooke , Then more and more to swallow sorrow in , As threatning death at eu'ry little looke , vvhere now she reads , th'expences of her sin , Sadly set downe in this blacke dreadfull booke , And those deere summes were like to be defray'd , Before the same were absolutely pay'd . 91 An hoast of woes her suddainly assayle , As eu'ry letter wounded like a dart , As though contending which should most preuaile , Yet eu'ry one doth pi●rce her to the hart ; As eu'ry word did others case bewaile , And with his neighbour seem'd to beare a part , Reason of griefe e●ch sentence is to her , And eu'ry line a true remembrancer . 92 Greefe makes her reade , yet straightwaies bids her leaue , vvith which ore-charg'd shee neither sees nor heares , Her sences now theyr Mistris so deceiue , The words doe wound her eyes , the sound her eares , And eu'ry organe of the vse bereaues , vvhen for a fescue she doth vse her teares , That when some line she loosly ouer-past , The drops doe tell her where she left the last . 93 O now she sees , was neuer such a sight , And seeing curs'd her sorrow-seeing eye , Yet thinks she is deluded by the light , Or is abusd by the orthography ; And by some other t' is deuis'd for spight , Or pointed false her schollership to try , Thus when we fondly sooth our owne desires , Our best conceits oft proue the greatest lyers . 94 Her trembling hand as in a feuer shakes , vvhere-with the paper doth a little stirre , vvhich she imagines at her sorrow shakes , And pitties it , who she thinks pitties her . Each small thing somewhat to the greater makes , And to the ●umor , some thing doth infer , VVhich when so soone as shee her tongue could free , O worthy Earle , deere-loued Lord quoth shee . 95 I will reserue thy ashes in some Vrne , vvhich as a relique I will onely saue , Mix'd with the teares that I for thee shall mourne , vvhich in my deare breast shall theyr buriall haue , From whence againe they neuer shall returne , Nor giue the honor to another graue , But in that Temple euer be preserued , vvhere thou a Saint religiously art serued . 96 VVhen she breakes out to cursing of her sonne , But March so much still runneth in her mind , That she abruptly ends what she begunne , Forgets her selfe , and leaues the rest behind , From this , she to another course doth runne , To be reueng'd in some notorious kind , To which shee deeply doth ingage her troth , Bound by a strong vow , and a solemne oth . 97 For pen and incke she calls her mayds without , And the Kings dealings will in griefe discouer , But soone forgetting what she went about , Shee now begins to write vnto her louer , Heere she sets downe , and there she blotteth out , Her griefe and passion doe so strongly moue her . vvhen turning backe to read what she had writ , She teares the paper , and condemns her wit. 98 And thus with contrarieties araysed , As waters chilnesse wakeneth from a swound , Comes to her selfe , the agony appeased , VVhen colder blood more sharply feeles the wound , And griefe her so incurably hath seaized , That for the same no remedie is found , As the poore refuge to her restlesse woes , This of her griese she lastly doth dispose . 99 That now vnkind King as thou art my sonne , Leauing the world , some legacie must giue thee , My harts true loue the dying March hath wonne , Yet that of all I will not quite bereaue thee ; The wrong and mischiefe to thy mother done , I thee bequeath , so bound that they out-liue thee , That as my breast it hourely doth torment , Thou maist enioy it by my Testament . 100 Hence forth within this solitary place , Abandoning for euer generall sight , A priuate life I willingly embrace , No more reioycing in the obuious light , To consuma●e the weary lingering space , Till death inclose me with continuall night ; Each small remembrance of delight to flie , A conuertite , and penitently die . FINIS . To the Reader . SEeing these Epistles are now to the world made publique , it is imagined that I ought to bee accountable of my priuate meaning , cheefely for mine owne discharge , least beeing misttaken , I fall in hazard of a iust and vniuersall reprehension , for . Hae nugae feria ducent In mala derisum semel exceptumque sinistre . Three poynts are especially therefore to be explained . First , why I entitle this worke Englands heriocall Epistles ; thē why I obserue not the persons dignitie in the dedication ; lastly , why I haue annexed notes to euery Epistles end . For the first , the title I hope carrieth reason in it selfe , for that the most and greatest persons herein were English , or else , that theyr loues were obtained in England . And though ( heriocall ) be properly vnderstood of demi-gods , as of Hercules and AEneas , whose parents were said to be the one celestiall , the other mortall , yet is it also transferred to them , who for the greatnes of mind come neere to Gods. For to be borne of a celestiall Incubus , is nothing else but to haue a great and mightie spirit , farre aboue the earthly weakenesse of men , in which sence Ouid ( whose imitator I partly professe to be ) doth also vse heroicall . For the second , seeing none to whom I haue dedicated any two Epistles , but haue theyr states ouermatched by them who are made to speake in the Epistles , how euer the order is in dedication , yet in respect of their degrees in my deuotion , and the cause before recited , I hope they suffer no disparagement , seeing euery one is the first in theyr particuler interest , hauing in some sort , sorted the complexion of the Epistles , to the character of theyr iudgements to whom I dedicate thē , excepting onely the blamefulnesse of the persons passion , in those poynts wherein the passion is blamefull . Lastly , such manifest difference being betwixt euery one of them , where or howsoeuer they be marshalled , how can I be iustly appeached of vnaduisement . For the third , because the worke might in truth be iudged brainish , if nothing but amorous humor were handled therein , I haue enter wouen matters historicall , which vnexplaned , might defraud the minde of much content , as for example , in Queene Margarites Epistle to VVilliam dela Pole , My Daizie flower , which once perfum'd the ayre , Margarite in French signifies a Daizie , which for the allusion to her name , this Queene did giue for her deuise ; and this as others more , haue seemed to me not vnworthy the explaning . Now , though no doubt I had neede to excuse other thinges beside , yet these most especially , the rest I ouerpasse to eschue tedious recitall , or to speake as malicious enuy may , for that in truth I ouersee them . If they be as harmlesly taken as I meant them , it shall suffice to haue onely t●uched the cause of the title of the dedications , and of the notes , whereby emboldned to publish the residue , ( these not beeing accounted in mens opinions relishlesse ) ● shall not lastly be afrayd to beleeue and acknowledge thee a gentle Reader . M. D. To M. Michaell Drayton . HOw can he write that broken hath his pen , Hath rent his paper , throwne his Inke away , Detests the world and company of men , Because they grow more hatefull day by day . Yet with these broken reliques , mated mind , And what a iustly-greeued thought can say : I giue the world to know , I nere could find , A worke more like to liue a longer day . Goe verse , an obiect for the proudest eye ; Disdaine those which disdaine to reade thee ouer , Tell them they know not how they should discry , The secret passions of a wittie louer . For they are such , as none but those shall know , whom Beauty s●hooles to hold the blind Boyes bow . Once I had vow'd , ( ô who can all vowes keepe ? ) Hence-forth to smother my vnlucky Muse ; Yet for thy sake she started out of sleepe , Yet now she dies . Then doe as kindsfolks vse ; Close vp the eyes of my now-deing-stile , As I haue op'ned thy sweet babes ere-while . E. Sc. Gent. Duris decus omen . To M. Michaell Drayton . LOng haue I wish'd and hop'd my weaker Muse , ( In nothing strong but my vnhappy loue ) VVould giue me leaue my fortune to approue , And view the world , as named , Poets vse ; But still her fruitlesse bosome doth refuse To blesse me with indifferencie of praise , Not daring ( like to many ) to abuse That title which true worth should onely raise ; Thus bankerout , and dispairing of mine owne , I set my wish and hope ( kind friend ) on thee , vvhose fruite approu'd , and better fortune knowne , Tels me thy Muse , my loues sole heire must be ; So barren wombes embrace their neighbours yong , So dumbe men speake by them that haue a tong . Thomas Hassall , Gent. To M. Michaell Drayton . NOw I perceaue Pythagoras deuin'd , vvhen he that mocked Maxim did maintaine , That spirits once spoyl'd , reuested were againe , Though chang'd in shape , remaining one in mind ; These loue-sicke Princes passionate estates , VVho feeling reades , he cannot but allow , That Ouids soule reuiues in Drayton now , Still learn'd in loue , still rich in rare conceits , This pregnant spirit affecting further skill , Oft alt'ring forme , from vulgar wits retir'd , In diuers Ideoms mightily admir'd , Did prosecute that sacred studie still ; vvhile to a full perfection now attain'd , He sings so sweetly that himselfe is stain'd . VVilliam Alexander . - Scotus . To the excellent Lady Lucie , Countesse of Bedford . MAdam , after all the admired wits of this excellent age , which haue laboured in the sad complaints of faire and vnfortunate Rosamond , and by the excellency of inuention , haue sounded the depth of her sundry passions ; I present to your Ladiship this Epistle of hers to King Henry , whom I may rather call her louer then beloued . Heere must your Ladishippe behold variablenes in resolution ; woes constantly grounded ; laments abruptly broken off ; much confidence , no certainty , words begetting teares , teares confounding matter , large complaints in little papers ; and many deformed cares , in one vniformed Epistle . I striue not to effect singularity , yet would faine flie imitation , & prostrate mine own wants to other mens perfections . Your iudiciall eye must modell foorth what my pen hath layd together , much would she say to a King , much would I say to a Countesse , but that the methed of my Epistle must conclude the modesty of hers , which I wish may recommend my euer vowed seruice to your honour . Michaell Drayton . The Epistle of Rosamond to King Henrie the second . ¶ The Argument . Henry the second of that name , King of England , the sonne of Geffrey Plantaginet , Earle of Aniou , and Maude the Empresse , hauing by long sute and princely gifts , wonne ( to his vnlawfull desire ) faire Rosamond , the daughter of the Lord VValter Clyfford , and to auoyde the danger of Ellinor his iealous Queene , had caused ● Labyrinth to be made within his Pallace at VVoodstocke , in the center whereof , he had lodged his beauteous paramore . VVhilst the King is absent in his warres in Normandie , this poore distressed Lady , inclosed in this solitarie place , tutcht with remorse of conscience , writes vnto the King of her distresse and miserable estate , vrging him by all meanes and perswasions , to cleere himselfe of this infamie , and her of the griefe of minde , by taking away her wretched life . IF yet thine eyes ( great Henry ) may endure These tainted lines , drawne with a hand impure , vvhich faine would blush , but feare keepes blushes back , And therefore suted in dispayring black , This in loues name , ô that these lips might craue , But that sweet name ( vile I ) prophaned haue , Punish my fault , or pittie mine estate , Reade it for loue , if not for loue , for hate . If with my shame thine eyes thou faine wouldst feede , Heere let them surfeit , on my shame to reede ; This scribled paper which I send to thee , If noted rightly , doth resemble mee ; As this pure ground , whereon these letters stand , So pure was I , ere stained by thy hand ; Ere I was blotted with this foule offence , So cleere and spotlesse was mine innocence . Now like these marks which taint this hatefull scroule , Such the black sinnes which spot my leprous soule , O Henry , why by losse thus should'st thou win ? To get by conquest ? to enrich with sinne ? VVhy on my name this slaunder doost thou bring , To make my fault renowned by a King ? Fame neuer stoopes to things but meane and poore , The more our greatnes , makes our fault the more . Lights on the ground , themselues doe lessen farre , But in the ayre , each small sparke seemes a starre . VVhy on a womans frailtie would'st thou lay This subtile plot , mine honour to betray ? Or thy vnlawfull pleasure should'st thou buy vvith vile expence of kingly maiestie ? T was not my minde consented to this ill , Then had I beene transported by my will , For what my body was ensorst to doe , ( Heauen knowes ) my soule did not consent vnto ; For through mine eyes had she her liking seene , Such as my loue , such had my Louer beene . True loue is simple , like his mother Truth , Kindly affection , youth to loue with youth ; No sharper corsiue to our blooming yeeres , Then the cold badge of vvinter-blasted haires . Thy kingly power makes to withstand thy foes , But canst not keepe back age , with time it growes , Though honour our ambitious sex doth please , Yet in that honour , age a foule disease , Nature hath her free course in all , and then , Age is alike in Kings , and other men , vvhich all the world will to my shame impute● That I my selfe did basely prostitute ; And say that gold was fuell to the fire , Gray haires in youth not kindling greene desire , O no ; that wicked woman wrought by thee , My tempter was to that forbidden tree , That subtile Serpent , that seducing deuill , vvhich bad me tast the fruite of good and euill ; That Circe , by whose magick I was charm'd , And to this monstrous shape am thus transform'd● That viperous hag , the foe to her owne kinde , That wicked spirit vnto the weaker minde ; Our frailties plague , our natures onely curse , Hels deep'st damnation , the worst euills worse , But Henrie , how canst thou affect me thus T'whom thy remembrance now is odious ? My haplesse name , with Henries name I found , Cut in the glasse with Henries Diamond , That glasse from thence faine would I take away ; But then I feare the ayre would me betray ; Then doe I striue to wash it out with teares , But then the same more euident appeares . Then doe I couer it with my guiltie hand , VVhich that names witnes doth against me stand ; Once did I sinne , which memory doth cherrish , Once I offended , but I euer perrish . VVhat griefe can be , but time doth make it lesse ? But infamie time neuer can suppresse . Sometimes to passe the tedious irkesome howres , I climbe the top of VVoodstocks mounting towres , vvhere in a Turret secretly I lye To view from farre such as doe trauaile by , vvhether ( me thinks ) all cast theyr eyes at mee As through the stones my shame did make them see , And with such hate the harmelesse walls doe view , As vnto death theyr eyes would me pursue . The married women curse my hatefull life , vvhich wrong a lawfull bed , a Queene , a wife ; The maydens wish I buried quick may die , The lothsome staine to their virginitie . VVell knew'st thou what a monster I would be● vvhen thou didst build this Labyrinth for mee , vvhose strange Meanders turning euery way , Be like the course wherein my youth did stray ; Onely a Clue to guide me out and in , But yet still walke I , circuler in sin . As in the Tarras heere this other day My mayd and I did passe the time away , Mongst many pictures which we passed by , The silly girle at length hapt to espie Chast Lucrece picture , and desires to know vvhat she should be herselfe that murdred so ? VVhy girle ( quoth I ) this is that Romane dame , Not able then to tell the rest for shame , My tongue doth mine owne guiltinesse betray ; vvith that I send the pratling girle away , Least when my lisping guiltie tongue should hault , My lookes should be the Index to my fault . As that life blood which from the hart is sent , In beauties felde pitching his crimson Tent , In louely sanguine sutes the Lilly cheeke , vvhilst it but for a resting place doth seeke ; And changing often-times with sweet delight , Conuerts the white to red , the red to white . The louely blush , the palenes doth distaine , The palenes makes the blush more faire againe ; Thus in my brest a thousand thoughts I carry , vvhich in my passion diuersly doe varry . VVhen as the sunne hales towards the VVesterne slade , And the trees shadowes three times greater made , Forth goe I to a little Current neere , vvhich like a vvanton traile creepes here and there , vvhere with mine angle casting in my baite , The little fishes ( dreading the deceit ) vvith fearefull nibbling flie th' inticing gin , By nature taught what danger lyes therein . Things reasonlesse thus warnd by nature be , Yet I deuour'd the baite was layd for me ; Thinking thereon , and breaking into grones , The bubling spring which trips vpon the stones , Chides me away , least sitting but too nie , I should pollute that natiue puritie . Rose of the world , so doth import my name , Shame of the world , my life hath made the same . And to th'vnchast this name shall giuen be , Of Rosamond , deriu'd from sinne and me . The Clyffords take from me that name of theyrs , Famous for vertue many hundred yeeres . They blot my birth with hatefull bastardie , That I sprang not from their nobilitie ; They my alliance vtterly refuse , Nor will a strumpet shall theyr name abuse . Heere in the garden wrought by curious hands , Naked Diana in the fountaine stands , vvith all her Nimphes got round about to hide her , As when Acteon had by chaunce espide her ; This sacred Image I no sooner view'd , But as that metamorphosd man pursu'd By his owne hounds ; so by my thoughts am I , vvhich chase me still , which way so ere I flie . Touching the grasse , the honny-dropping dew , vvhich falls in teares before my limber shue , Vpon my foote consumes in weeping still , As it would say , vvhy went'st thou vnto ill ? Thus to no place in safety can I goe , But euery thing doth giue me cause of woe . In that faire Casket of such wondrous cost Thou sent'st the night before mine honour lost , Amimone was wrought , a harmeles mayd , By Neptune that adulterous God betrayd ; Shee prostrate at his feete begging with prayers , vvringing her hands , her eyes swolne vp with teares ; This was not the entrapping baite of men , But by thy vertue gentle warning then ; To shew to me for what intent it came , Least I therein should euer keepe my shame . ●●d in this Casket ( ill I see it now ) vvat Ioues loue I-o , turnd into a Cow. Yet was shee kept with Argus hundred eyes , So wakefull still be Iunos iealousies ; By this I well might haue forewarned beene , T' haue cleerd my selfe to thy suspecting Queene , vvho with more hundred eyes attendeth mee Then had poore Argus single eyes to see . In this thou rightly imitatest Ioue , Into a beast thou hast transformd thy loue . Nay worser farre ; ( degenerate from kinde ) A monster , both in body and in mind . The waxen Taper which I burne by night , vvith his dull vapory dimnes mocks my sight ; As though the damp which hinders his cleere flame , Came from my breath , in that night of my shame , vvhen it did burne as darkenes vgly eye , vvhen shot the starre of my virginitie . And if a starre but by the glasse appeare , I straight in treate it not to looke in heere ; I am already hatefull to the light , It is enough , betray me not to night . Then sith my shame so much belongs to thee , Rid me of that by onely murdring me ; And let it iustly to my charge be layde , Thy royall person I would haue betrayd ; Thou shalt not neede by circumstance t'●ccuse mee , If I denie it , let the heauens refuse mee . My life 's a blemish which doth cloude thy name , Take it away , and cleere shall shine thy fame . Yeeld to my sute , if euer pittie moou'd thee , In this shew mercy , as I euer lou'd thee . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Well knew'st thou what a monster I would bee , When thou didst build this Labyrinth for mee . IN the Cretean Labyrinth a monster was inclosed , called a Min●taur , the hystorie whereof is well knowne , but the Labyrinth was framed by Daedalus , vvith so many intricate wayes , that being entred , one could either hardlie or neuer returne , being in manner of a maze saue that it was larger , the waies being walld in on euery side● out of the which Theseus by Ariadnes helpe ( lending him a clue of thred ) escaped . Some report that it was a house , hauing one halfe beneath the ground , another aboue , the chamber doores therein so deceitfullie enwrapped , and made to open so manie lundry wayes , that it was held a matter almost impossible to returne . Some haue held it to haue beene an Allegory of mans life , true it is that the comparison will hold , for what liker to a Labyrinth then the maze of life ? But it is affirmed by antiquitie , that there was indeede such a building , though Daedalus being a name applyed to the workmans excellencie , make it suspected : for Daedalus is nothing els but ingenious , or artificiall . Heerevpon it is vsed among the auncient Poets , for any thing curiouslie wrought . Rosamonds Labyrinth , whose ruins together with her vvell beeing paued with square stone in the bottome , and also her Tower from which the Labyrinth did runne , ( are yet remaining ) was altogether vnder ground , beeing vaults arched and walled with brick and stone , almost inextricably wounde one within another , by which if at any time her lodging were layd about by the Queene , shee might easilie auoyde perrill imminent , and if neede be , by secrete issues take the ayre abroade , manie furlongs round about Woodstocke in Oxfordshire , wherein it was situated . Thus much for Rosamonds Labyrinth . Whose strange Meanders turned euery way . Meander is a riuer in Lycia , a prouince of Natolia , or Asia minor , famous for the sinuositie and often turning thereof , rising from certaine hils in Maeonia , herevpon are intricate turnings by a transu●tiue and metonimicall kind of speech , called Maeanders , for this Riuer did so strangely path it selfe , that the foote seemed to touch the head . Rose of the world , so doth import my name , Shame of the world my life hath made the same . It might be reported , howe at Godstowe where this Rose of the world was sumptuously interred , a certaine Bishop in the visitation of his Diocesse , caused the monument which had beene erected to her honour , vtterly to be demolished , but be that seuere chastisement of Rosamond then dead , at this time also ouerpassed , least shee shoulde seeme to be the Shame of the world . Henry to Rosamond . WHen first the Post arriued at my Tent , And brought the Letters Rosamond had sent , Thinke frō his lips , but what sweet cōfort came , vvhen in mine eare he softly breath'd thy name Straight I enioyne him of thy health to tell , Longing to heare my Rosamond did well ; VVith new enquiries then I cut him short vvhen of the same he gladly would report , That with the earnest hast my tongue oft trips , Catching the words halfe spoke out of his lips ; This told , yet more I vrge him to reueale , To loose no time whild I vnript the seale . The more I read , still doe I erre the more , As though mistaking somwhat said before . Missing the poynt , the doubtfull sence is broken , Speaking againe , what I before had spoken , Still in a swound , my hart reuiues and faints , Twixt hopes , dispaires , twixt smiles , and deepe complaints . As these sad accents sort in my desires , Smooth calmes , rough stormes , sharp frosts , & raging fires , Put on with boldnes , and put backe with feares , My tongue with curses , when mine eyes with teares . O how my hart at that black line did tremble , That blotted paper should thy selfe resemble ; O were there paper but neere halfe so white , The Gods thereon their sacred lawes would write vvith pens of Angells wings , and for their inke , That heauenly Nectar , their immortall drinke . Maiesticke courage striues to haue supprest This fearefull passion stird vp in my brest , But still in vaine the same I goe about , My hart must breake within , or woe breakes out , Am I at home pursu'd with priuate hate , And warre comes raging to my Pallace gate ? Is meager Enuie stabbing at my throne , Treason attending when I walke alone ? And am I branded with the curse of Rome , And stand condemn'd by dreadfull counsels dombe ? And by the pride of my rebellious sonne , Rich Normandie with Armies ouer-runne ? Fatall my birth , vnfortunate my life , Vnkind my children , most vnkind my wife . Griefe , cares , old age , suspition to torment me , Nothing on earth to quiet or content me , So many woes , so many plagues to finde , Sicknes of body , discontent of mind ; Hopes left , helps reft , life wrong'd , ioy interdicted , Banish'd , distress'd , forsaken , and afflicted ; Of all reliefe hath fortune quite bereft me ? Onely my loue vnto my comfort left me , And is one beautie thought so great a thing , To mittigate the sorrowes of a King ? Barr'd of that choise the vulgar often proue , Haue we ( then they ) lesse priuiledge in loue ? Is it a King , the wofull widdow heares ? Is it a King , dries vp the Orphans teares ? Is it a King , regards the Clyants cry ? Giues life to him by law condemnd to die ? Is it his care , the Common-wealth that keepes , As doth the Nurse her babie whilst it sleepes ? And that poore king , of all these hopes preuented , Vnheard , vnhelp'd , vnpitted , vnlamented , Yet let me be with pouertie opprest , Of earthly blessings robd , and dispossest , Let me be scorn'd , reiected , and reuild , From Kingdome , Country , and from Court exild ; Let the worlds curse vpon me still remaine , And let the last bring on the first againe ; All miseries that wretched man may wound , Leaue for my comfort , onely Rosamond , For thee swift time her speedie course doth stay , At thy commaund the Destenies obay ; Pittie is dead , that comes not from thines eyes , And at thy feete , euen mercie prostrate lyes ; If I were feeble , rheumatick , or cold , These were true signes that I were waxed old , But I can march all day in massie steele , Nor yet my armes vnweldy weight doe feele , Nor wak'd by night , with bruise or bloody wound , The tent my bed , no pillow but the ground ; For very age had I laine bedred long , One smile of thine againe could make me yong . VVere there in Art a power but so diuine As is in that sweet Angell-tongue of thine , That great Enchantresse which once tooke such paines , To force young blood in AEsons wither'd vaines , And from Groues , Mountaines , and the moorish Fen , Vs'd all the hearbs , ordayn'd to vse of men , And in the powerfull potion that she makes , Puts blood of men , of birds , of beasts , of snakes , Neuer had needed to haue gone so far , To seeke the soiles where all those simples are , One accent from thy lips , the blood more warmes , Then all her philters , exorcismes , and charmes . Thy presence hath repaired in one day , vvhat many yeeres and sorrowes did decay , And made fresh beauties fairest branches spring From wrinkled furrowes of times ruining . Euen as the hungry vvihter-starued earth , vvhen she by nature labours towards her birth , Still as the day vpon the darke world creepes , One blossome forth after another peepes , Till the smal flower whose roote is now vnbound Gets from the frostie prison of the ground , Spreading the leaues vnto the powerfull noone , Deck'd in fresh colours , smiles vpon the sunne . Neuer vnquiet care lodg'd in that brest , vvhere but one thought of Rosamond did rest ; Nor thirst , nor trauaile , which on warre attend , Ere brought the long day to desired end ; Nor yet did pale Feare , or leane Famine liue vvhere hope of thee , did any comfort giue , Ah what iniustice then is this of thee That thus the guiltlesse doost condemne for me ? vvhen onely she ( by meanes of my offence ) Redeemes thy purenes , and thy innocence , vvhen to our wills perforce obey they must , That iust in them , what ere in vs vniust ; Of what we doe , not them account we make , The fault craues pardon for th' offenders sake , And what to worke a Princes will may merrit , Hath deep'st impression in the gentlest spirit ; If 't be my name that doth thee so offend , No more my selfe shall be mine owne names friend ; And if 't be that which thou doost onely hate , That name , in my name , lastly hath his date . Say t is accurst , and fatall , and dispraise it , If written , blot it , if engrauen , raze it . Say that of all names t is a name of woe , Once a Kings name , but now it is not so . And when all this is done , I know t will grieue thee , And therefore ( sweet ) why should I now belieue thee ? Nor should'st thou thinke those eyes with enuie lower , vvhich passing by thee , gaze vp to thy tower ; But rather praise thine owne which be so cleere , vvhich from the Turret like two starres appeare ; Aboue the sunne doth shine , beneath thine eye , Mocking the heauen to make another skye . The little streame which by thy tower doth glide , vvhere oft thou spend'st the wearie euening tide , To view thee well his course would gladly stay , As loth from thee to part so soone away ; And with salutes thy selfe would gladly greete , And offer vp those small drops at thy feete , But finding that the enuious banks restraine it , T' excuse it selfe , doth in this sort complaine it , And therefore this sad bubling murmur keepes , And in this sort within the channell weepes . And as thou doost into the water looke , The fish which see thy shadow in the brooke , Forget to feede , and all amazed lye , So daunted with the lustre of thine eye . And that sweet name which thou so much doost wrong , In time shall be some famous Poets song ; And with the very sweetnes of that name , Lyons and Tygers , men shall learne to tame . The carefull mother from her pensiue brest vvith Rosamond shall bring her babe to rest ; The little birds , ( by mens continuall sonnd ) Shall learne to speake , and prattle Rosamond , And when in Aprill they begin to sing , vvith Rosamond shall welcome in the spring ; And she in whom all rarities are found , Shall still be sayd to be a Rosamond . The little flowers which dropping honied dew , vvhich ( as thou writ'st ) doe weepe vpon thy shu● , Not for thy fault ( sweet Rosamond ) doe mone , But weepe for griefe that thou so soone art gone , For if thy foote tuch Hemlock as it goes , That Hemlock's made more sweeter then the Rose , Of Ioue or Neptune how they did betray , Nor speake of I-o , or Amimone , vvhen she for whom Ioue once became a Bull , Compar'd with thee , had beene a tawny trull ; He a white Bull , and she a whiter Cow , Yet he , nor she , neere halfe so white as thou . Long since ( thou knowst ) my care prouided for● To lodge thee safe from iealous Ellenor , The Labyrinths conueyance guides thee so , ( vvhich onely Vahan , thou and I doe know ) If she doe guard thee with a hundred eyes , I haue an hundred subtile Mercuries , To watch that Argus which my loue doth keepe , Vntill eye , after eye , fall all to sleepe . Those starres looke in by night , looke in to see , vvondring what star heere on the earth should be . As oft the moone amidst the silent night , Hath come to ioy vs with her friendly light , And by the curtaine help'd mine eye to see vvhat enuious night and darknes hid from mee ; vvhen I haue wish'd that she might euer stay , And other worlds might still enioy the day , vvhat should I say ? vvords , teares , and sighes be spent , And want of time doth further helps preuent : My campe resounds with fearefull shocks of war , Yet in my breast the worser conflicts are ; Yet is my signall to the battailes sound , The blessed name of beautious Rosamond . Accursed be that hart , that tongue , that breath , Should thinke , should speake , or whisper of thy death . For in one smile , or lower from thy sweet eye , Consists my life , my hope , my victorie . Sweet VVoodstocke , where my Rosamond doth rest , Blessed in her , in whom thy King is blest ; For though in Fraunce a while my bodie be , ( Sweet Paradice ) my hart remaines in thee . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Am I at home pursued with priuate hate , And warre comes raging to my Pallace gate ? RObert Earle of Leicester , who tooke part with young King Henry , entred into England with an Armie of 3. thousand Flemmings , & spoiled the Countries of Norfolke and Suffolke , being succoured by manie of the Kings priuate enemies . And am I branded with the curse of Rome ? King Henry the second , the first Plantaginet , accused for the death of Thomas Becket , Archbishop of Canterburie , slaine in the Cathedrall Church , was accursed by Pope Alexander , although hee vrg'd sufficient proofe of his innocencie in the same , and offered to take vpon him any pennance , so he might escape the curse and interdiction of the Realme . And by the pride of my rebellious Sonne , Rich Normandie with Armies ouer-runne . Henry the young King , whom King Henry had caused to be crowned in his life , ( as he hoped ) both for his owne good and the good of his Subiects , which indeede turned to his owne sorrowe , and the trouble of the whole Realme , for he rebelled against him , and raising a power , by the meanes of Lewes King of Fraunce , and William king of Scots , who tooke part with him , inuaded Normandie . Vnkind my children , most vnkind my wife . Neuer King more infortunate then King Henry ; in the disobedience of his children : first Henry , then Geffrey , then Richard , then Iohn , all at one time or other , first or last , vnnaturally rebelled against him : then the iealousie of Ellinor his Queene , who suspected his loue to Rosamond , which grieuous troubles , the deuout of those times , attributed to happen vnto him iustly , for refusing to take vppon him the gouernment of Ierusalem , offered vnto him by the Patriarcke there ; which country was mightilie afflicted by the Souldane . Which onely Vahan thou and I doe know . This Vahan was a Knight whom the King exceedingly loued , who kept the Pallace at Woodstock , & much of the Kings iewels & treasure , to whom the King committed many of his secrets , & in whom he reposed such trust , that he durst commit his loue vnto his charge . FINIS . King Iohn to Matilda . ¶ The Argument . After that King Iohn had assaied by all meanes possible , to win the faire & chast Matilda , to his vnchast and vnlawful bed , and by vniust courses and false accusation had banished the Lord Robert Fitzwater her noble Father , and many other of his allies , who iustlie withstoode the desire of this wanton King , seeking the dishonour of his faire and vertuous daughter ; this chast Lady , still solicited by this lasciuious King , flies vnto Dunmowe in Essex , where in a Nunnery she becomes a Nunne , whether the King ( still persisting in his sute ) solicites her by his Epistle ; her reply confirmes her vowed and inuincible chastitie , making knowne to the King her pure vnspotted thoughts . WHen these my Letters come vnto thy view , Thinke them not forc'd , or saind , or strange , or new , Thou know'st no way , no meanes , no course exempted , Left now vnsought , vnproou'd , or vnattempted , All rules , regards , all secret helps of Art , vvhat knowledge , wit , experience can impart ; And in the old worlds Ceremonies doted , Good dayes for loue , times , howres , & minutes noted ; And where Arte left , loue teacheth more to finde , By signes in presence to expresse the minde . Oft hath mine eye told thine eye , beautie grieu'd it , And begd but for one looke to haue relieu'd it , And still with thine eyes motion , mine eye mou'd , Labouring for mercy , telling how it lou'd . If blush'd , I blush'd , thy cheeke pale , pale was mine , My red , thy red , my whitnes answered thine ; If sigh'd , I sigh'd , alike both passion proue , But thy sigh is for griefe , my sigh for loue ; If a word past , that insufficient were , To helpe that word , mine eyes let forth a teare , And if that teare did dull or sencelesse proue , My hart would fetch a sigh , to make it moue . Oft in thy face , one fauour from the rest I singled forth , that likes my fancie best ; This likes me most , another likes me more , A third exceeding both those lik'd before ; Then one that doth deriue all wonder thence , Then one whose rarenes passeth excellence . VVhilst I behold thy Globe-like rowling eye , Thy louely cheeke ( me thinks ) stands smiling by And tels me , those but shadowes and supposes , And bids me thether come and gather Roses ; Looking on that , thy brow doth call to mee To come to it , if wonders I will see Now haue I do●e , and now thy dimpled chin Againe doth tell me I but new begin , And bids me yet to looke vpon thy lip , Least wondring least , the great'st I ouerslip . My gazing eye , on this and this doth ceaze , vvhich surfets , yet cannot desire appease . Then like I browne , ( ô louely browne thy haire ) Onely in brownenes , beautie dwelleth there . Then loue I blacke , thine eye-ball black as Iet , Then cleere , that ball is there in Christall set , Then white , but snow , nor swan , nor Iuorie please , Then are thy teeth more whiter then all these ; In browne , in black , in purenes , and in white , All loue , all sweets , all rarenes , all delight ; Thus thou vile theefe , my stolne hart hence doo'st carry , And now thou fliest into a Sanctuarie ; Fie peeuish girle , ingratefull vnto nature , Did she to this end frame thee such a creature● That thou her glory should'st increase thereby , And thou alone doost scorne societie ? VVhy , heauen made beauty like herselfe to view , Not to be lock'd vp in a smoky Mew , A rosy-tainted feature is heanens gold , vvhich all men ioy to touch , all to behold . It was enacted when the world begun That so rare beautie should not liue a Nun. But if this vow thou needs wilt vndertake , O were mine armes a Cloister for thy sake , Still may his paines for euer be augmented , This superstition that at first inuented , Ill might he thriue , that brought this custome hether , That holy people might not liue together . A happy time , a good world was it then , vvhen holy women , liu'd with holy men ; But Kings in this , yet priuiledg'd may be , I le be a Munke , so I may liue with thee . VVho would not rise to ring the mornings knell , vvhen thy sweet lips might be the sacring bell ? Or what is he not willingly would fast , That on those lips , might feast his lips at last ? VVho vnto Mattens earely would not rise , That might reade by the light of thy faire eyes ? On worldly pleasures who would euer looke , That had thy curles his beades , thy browes his booke ? VVert thou the Crosse , to thee who would not creepe ? And wish the Crosse , still in his armes to keepe . Sweet girle , I le take this holy habite on mee , Of meere deuotion that is come vpon mee , Holy Matilda , thou the Saint of mine , I le be thy seruaunt , and my bed thy shrine . VVhen I doe offer , be thy brest the Altar , And when I pray , thy mouth shall be my Psalter . The beads that we will bid , shall be sweet kisses , vvhich we will number , if one pleasure misses , And when an Auie comes to say Amen , vve will begin , and tell them or'e againe , Now all good fortune giue me happy thrift , As I should ioy t'absolue thee after shrift . But see how much I doe my selfe beguile , And doe mistake thy meaning all this while , Thou took'st this vow to equall my desire Because thou wouldst haue me to be a Frier , And that we two should comfort one another , A holy sister , and a holy brother , Thou as a Votresse vnto me alone , Shee is most chast , that 's but enioyd of one . Yea , now thy true deuotion doe I find , And sure in this I much commend thy mind ; Els heere thou doost but ill ensample giue , And in a Nunry thus thou shouldst not liue . Is 't possible the house that thou art in Should not be tucht , ( though with a veniall sin ) vvhen such a she-priest comes her masse to say , Twenty to one they all forget to pray . vvel may we wish they would their harts amend , vvhen we be witnes that theyr eyes offend , All creatures haue desires , or else some lie , Let them thinke so that will , so will not I. Doost thou not thinke our auncestors were wise , That these religious Cels did first deuise ? As Hospitalls were for the sore and sicke , These for the crook'd , the hault , the stigmatick , Least that their seede mark'd with deformitie , Should be a blemish to posteritie . VVould heau'n her beautie should be hid from sight , Nere would she thus herselfe adorne with light , VVith sparkling lamps ; nor would she paint her throne But she delighteth to be gaz'd vpon ; And when the golden glorious sun goes downe , vvould shee put on her star-bestudded crowne ; And in her masking sute the spangled skie , Come forth to bride it in her reuelrie ; And gaue this gift to all things in creation , That they in this should imitate her fashion . All things that faire , that pure , that glorious beene , Offer themselues of purpose to be seene ; In sinks and vaults , the vgly Toades doe dwell , The deuils since most vgly , they in hell ; Our mother earth , nere glorious in her fruite , Till by the sun clad in her Tinsell sute . Nor doth shee euer smile him in the face , Till in his glorious armes he her embrace ; vvhich proues she hath a soule , sence , & delight Of generations feeling appetite . vvell hipocrite ( in faith ) wouldst thou confesse , vvhat ere thy tongue say , thy hart saith no lesse . Note but this one thing , ( if nought els perswade ) Nature of all things male , and female made , Shewing herselfe in our proportion plaine , For neuer made she any thing in vaine ; For as thou art , should any haue beene thus , Shee would haue left ensample vnto vs. The Turtle that 's so true and chast in loue , Shewes by her mate something the spirit doth moue , Th'arabian bird , that neuer is but one , Is onely chast because she is alone ; But had our mother Nature made them two , They would haue done as Doues and Sparrowes doe , But therefore made a Martyr in desire , And doth her pennance lastly in the fire ; So may they all be rosted quicke that be Apostataes to nature , as is shee . Find me but one , so young , so faire , so free , ( vvoo'd , su'd , & sought , by him that now seekes thee ) But of thy minde , and heere I vndertake Straight to erect a Nunry for her sake ; O hadst thou tasted of these rare delights Ordaind each where to please great Princes sights , To haue their beauties , and their wits admird , ( vvhich is by nature , of your sexe desired ) Attended by our traines , our pompe our port , Like Gods ador'd abroade , kneeld to in Court , To be saluted with the cheerefull cry , Of highnes , grace , and soueraigne maiestie ; But vnto them that know not pleasures price , Al 's one , a prison , and a Paradice . If in a dungion , closd vp from the light , There is no difference twixt the day and night , vvhose pallate neuer tasted daintie cates , Thinks homely dishes princely delicates . Alas poore girle , I pitty thine estate , That now thus long hast liu'd disconsolate ; VVhy now at length let yet thy hart relent , And call thy Father back from banishment ; And with those princely honours heere inuest him That aukeward loue , not hate hath dispossest him . Call from exile , thy deere alies and friends , To whom the furie of my griefe extends ; And if thou take my counsaile in this case , I make no doubt thou shalt haue better grace , And leaue that Dunmow , that accursed Cell , There let black night and melancholie dwell ; Come to the Court , where all ioyes shall receiue thee , And till that howre , yet with my griefe I leaue thee . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . THis Epistle of King Iohn to Matilda , is much more poeticall then historicall , making no mention at al of the occurrents of the time , or state , touching onely his loue to her , & the extremitie of his passions forced by his desires , rightly fashioning the humour of this king : as hath been truely noted by the best and most autenticall Writers ; whose nature and disposition , is truliest discerned in the course of his loue ; first iesting at the ceremonies of the seruices of those times , thē going about by all strong and probable arguments , to reduce her to pleasures and delights , next with promises of honor , which he thinketh to be last and greatest meane , & to haue greatest power in her sexe ; with promise of calling home of her , freends , which he thought might be a great inducement to his desires . Matilda to King Iohn . NO sooner I , reciu'd thy letters here , Before I knew from whom , or whence they were , But suddaine feare my bloodlesse vaines doth fill , As though diuining of some future ill ; And in a shiuering extasie I stood , A chilly coldnes runnes through all my blood ; Opening thy letters , I shut vp my rest , And let strange cares into my quiet brest , As though thy hard , vnpittying hand had sent mee . Some new deuised torture to torment me ; vvell had I hop'd , I had beene now forgot , Cast out with those things thou remembrest not : And that proud beauty , which inforst me hether , Had with my name , now perished together : But ô ( I see ) our hoped good deceaues vs , But what we would forgoe , that sildome leaues vs ; Thy blamefull lines bespotted so with sin , Mine eyes would clense , ere they to reade begin But I to wash an Indian goe about , For ill so hard set on , is hard got out . I once determin'd , still to haue beene mute , Onely by silence to refell thy sute , But this againe did alter mine intent , For some will say that silence doth consent : Desire , with small incouraging growes bold , And hope , of euery little thing takes hold . I set me downe at large to write my mind , But now , nor pen , nor paper can I find ; For dread and passion , or so powerfull ore me , That I descerne not things that stand before me : Finding the pen , the paper , and the waxe , This at commaund , and now inuention lacks , This sentence serues , and that my hand out-strikes , That pleaseth well , and this as much mislikes , I write , indite , I point , I raze , I quote , I enterline , I blot , correct , I note ; I hope , dispaire , take courage , faint , disdaine , I make , alledge , I imitate , I faine : Now thus it must be , and now thus , and thus , Bold , shamefast , fearelesse , doubtfull , timerous ; My faint hand writing , when my full eye reedes , From euery word strange passion still proceedes . O when the soule is fettered once in wo , T is strange what humors it doth force vs to ; A teare doth drowne a teare , sigh , sigh doth smother , This hinders that , that interrupts the other ; Th'ouer-watched weakenes of a sicke conceite , Is that which makes small beauty seeme so great , Like things which hid in troubled waters lie , vvhich crook'd seeme straight , if straight seeme contrarie , And this our vaine imagination showes it As it conceiues it , not as iudgement knowes it , ( As in a Mirrhor , if the same be true ) Such as your likenes , iustly such are you ; But as you change your selfe , it changeth there , And showes you as you are , not as you were ; And with your motion doth your shadow moue , If frowne or smile ; such the conceite of loue . VVhy tell me , is it possible the mind A forme in all deformitie should finde ? VVithin the compasse of mans face we see How many sorts of seuerall fauours be ; And that the chin , the nose , the brow , the eye , If great , if small , flat , sharpe , or if awry , Alters proportion , altereth the grace , And makes a mighty difference in the face ; And in the world , scarce two so likely are One with the other which if you compare , But being set before you both together , A iudging sight doth soone distinguish eyther . How woman-like a weakenes it it then ? O what strange madnes so possesseth men Bereft of sence ; such sencelesse wonders seeing , vvithout forme , fashion , certaintie , or being ? For which so many die to liue in anguish , Yet cannot liue if thus they should not languish ; That comfort yeelds not , & yet hope denies not , A life that liues not , and a death that dies not ; That hates vs most , when most it speakes vs faire , Doth promise all things , alwayes paies with ayre , Yet sometime doth our greatest griefe appease , To double sorrow after little ease . Like that which thy lasciuious will doth craue , vvhich if once had , thou neuer more canst haue ; vvhich if thou get , in getting thou doost wast it , Taken , is lost , and perrish'd if thou hast it ; vvhich if thou gain'st , thou nere the more hast wone , I loosing nothing , yet am quite vndone ; And yet of that , if that a King depraue me , No King restores , though he a kingdome gaue me . Doost thou of Father and of friends depriue me ? And tak'st thou from me , all that heauen did giue me ? vvhat nature claimes , by blood , alies , or neernes , Or friendship challenge , by regard or deernes . Mak'st me an Orphan ere my Father die ? A vvofull widdow in virginitie ? Is thy vnbrideled lust the cause of all ? And now thy flattering tongue bewayles my fall . The dead mans graue with fained teares to fill , So the deuouring Crocodile doth kill , To harbor hate in shew of sweetest things , So in the Rose the poisned serpent stings . To lurke farre off , yet lodge destruction by , The Basiliske doth poyson with the eye ; To call for ayde , and then to lie in waite , So the Hiena murthers by deceite ; By sweet inticements , suddaine death to bring , So from the Rocks th'alluring Mermaids sing ; In greatest wants , t' inflict the greatest woe , This is the vtmost tyrannie can doe . But where ( I see ) the tempest thus preuailes , vvhat vse of Ankors , or what neede of sailes ; Aboue vs blustring winds , and dreadfull thunder , The waters gape for our destruction vnder ; Heere on this side the furious billowes flie , There rocks , there sands , and dangerous whir-pooles lie . Is this the meane that mightines approues , And in this sort doe Princes wooe their Loues ; Mildnes would better sute with maiestie Then rash reuenge , and rough seueritie . O in what safetie Temperance doth rest Obtayning harbour in a soueraigne brest . VVhich if so praisefull in the meanest men , In powerfull Kings , how glorious is it then ? Alas , and fled I hether from my fo , That innocence should be betrayed so ? Is Court and Country both her enemie And no place found to shroud in chastitie ? Each house for lust , a harbour , and an Inne , And euery Cittie a receite for sinne ; And all doe pittie beautie in distresse , If beautie chast , then onely pittilesse . Thus is she made a tempting stale to lust , Or vnreleeued , needsly perrish must . Lasciuious Poets , which abuse the truth , vvhich oft teach age to sinne , infecting youth , For the vnchast make trees & stones to mourne , Or as they please , to other shapes doe turne ; Cinyras daughter , whose incesteous mind , Made her wrong nature , and dishonour kind ; Long since by them is turn'd into a Mir , vvhose dropping liquor euer weepes for her ; And in a fountaine , Biblis doth deplore Her fault so vile and monsterous before ; Silla , which once her Father did betray , Is now a bird , ( if all be true they say ) She that with Phoebus did the foule offence , Now metamorphiz'd into Frankensence . Other , to flowers , to odors , and to gum , At least Ioues Lemmon is a starre become ; And more ; they faine a thousand fond excuses , To hide their scapes , and couer theyr abuses , The virgin onely they obscure and hide vvhilst the vnchast , by them are deifide ; Yet if a Vestals name be once exprest , She must be set together with the rest . I am not now , as when thou saw'st me last , That fauour soone is vanished and past ; That Rosie-blush , lapp'd in a Lilly-vale , Now with the Morphew ouer-growne and pale , And downe my cheekes with showers of swelling teares , Remaine the furrowes that continuance weares , And in the circles of my withered eyes , In aged wrinkles beautie buried lyes ; And in my grace , my presence , iesture , cheere , Ruine , distresse , woe , anguish , doth appeare . That brest , that hand , that cheeke , that eye , that brow , Faded , decayed , fallen , darkned , wrinkled now ; Such was my beauty once , now is it such , Once thought most rare , now altred more then much ; Nor I regard all that thou canst protest , My vow is taken , I a Nun profest . This Vestall habite doth content me more , Then all the robes that yet I euer wore . Had Rosamond , ( a recluse of our sort ) Taken our Cloister , left the wanton Court , Shadowing that beauty with a holy vale , vvhich she ( alas ) too loosely set to sale , She neede not like an vgly Minotaur , Haue beene lock'd vp from iealious Ellenor , But beene as famous by thy mothers wrongs , As by thy father subiect to all tongues . To shadow sinne , might can the most pretend , Kings , but the conscience , all things can defend . A stronger hand restaines our wilfull powers , A will must rule aboue this will of ours , Not following what our vaine desires doe wooe For vertues sake , but what we ( onely ) doe . And hath my Father chose to liue exild , Before his eyes should see my youth defild ? And to withstand a Tyrants lewd desire , Beheld his Towers and Castles razd with fire : Yet neuer tuch'd with griefe , so onely I , Exempt from shame might with true honor die . And shall this iewell which so deerely cost , Now after all , by my dishonour lost ? No , no , his reuerend words , his holy teares , Yet in my soule too deepe impression beares His latest fare-well at his last depart , More deepely is ingraued in my hart , Nor shall that blot , by me his name shall haue , Bring his gray haires with sorrow to his graue , Better his teares to fall vpon my Tombe , Then for my birth to curse my mothers wombe . Though Dunmow giue no refuge heere at all . Dunmow can giue my body buriall . If all remorcelesse , no teare-shedding eye , My selfe will moane my selfe ; so liue , so dye . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . THis Epistle , containeth no particuler points of historie , more then the generality of the argument layeth open , for after the banishment of the Lord Robert Fitzwater , and that Matilda was become a Recluse at Dunmowe , ( from whence this replie is imagined to bee written , ) the King still earnestly persisting in his ●ute , Matilda with this chast & constant deniall , hopeth yet at length to finde some comfortable remedy , and to rid her selfe of doubts , by taking vpon her this monastick habite , & to shew that she still beareth in mind his former cruelty , bred by the impatience of his lust , she remembreth him of her Fathers banishment , & the lawlesse exile of her alies and friends . Dost thou of Father and of friends depriue me ? Then complaining of her distresse , that flying thether , thinking there to find releefe , she sees her selfe most assaild where she hoped to haue found most safety . Alas , and fled I hether from my foe , That , &c. After againe , standing vpon the precise points of conscience , not to cast off this habite she had taken . My vow is taken , I a Nun profest . And at last laying open more particulerly the miseries sustained by her Father in England , the burning of his Castles and houses , which she proueth to be for her sake : as respecting onely her honour , more then his natiue Countrey and his owne fortunes . And to withstand a Tyrants lewd desire , Beheld his Towers and Castles set on fire . Knitting vp her Epistle with a great and constant resolution . Though Dunmow giue no refuge heere at all , Dunmow can giue my body buriall . FINIS . To the vertuous Lady , the Lady Anne Harrington : wife to the honourable Gentleman , Sir Iohn Harrington Knight . MY singuler good Lady , your many vertues knowne in generall to all , and your gracious fauours to my vnwoorthy selfe , haue confirmed that in mee , which before I knew you , I onelie sawe by the light of other mens iudgements . Honour seated in your breast , findes herselfe adorned as in a rich pallace , making that excellent which makes her admirable ; which like the Sunne ( from thence ) begetteth most precious things of this earthly worlde , onely by the vertue of his rayes , not the nature of the mould . VVorth is best discerned by the worthie , deiected mindes want that pure fire which should giue vigor to vertue . I referre to your great thoughts , ( the vnpartiall Iudges of true affection ) the vnfained zeale I haue euer borne to your honorable seruice ; and so rest your Ladiships humbly to commaund . Mich : Drayton . Queene Isabell to Mortimer . ¶ The Argument . Queene Isabell , ( the wife of Edward the second , called Edward Carnaruan , ) beeing the daughter of Phillip de Beau , King of Fraunce , forsaken by the King her husband , who delighted onely in the companie of Piers Gaueston , his minion and fauorite ; and after his death seduced by the euill counsaile of the Spensers . This Queene thus left by her husband , euen in the glory of her youth , drewe into her especiall fauour Roger Mortimer , Lorde of VVigmore , a man of a mightie and inuinsible spirit . This Lord Mortimer rising in armes against the King , with Thomas Earle of Lancaster , and the Barons , was taken ere he could gather his power , and by the King committed to the Tower of London . During his imprisonment , he ordained a feast in honour of his birth-day , to which he inuited Sir Stephen Segraue , Lieutenant of the Tower , and the rest of the officers , where , by meanes of a drinke prepared by the Queene , hee cast them all into a heauie sleepe , and with Ladders of cords beeing ready prepared for the purpose , he escapeth , and flieth into Fraunce , whether shee sendeth this Epistle , complaining her owne misfortunes , and greatly reioycing at his safe escape . THough such sweet comfort comes not now from her As Englands Queene hath sent to Mortimer . Yet what that wants , which might my power approue , If lines can bring , thys shall supply with loue , Me thinks affliction should not fright me so , Nor should resume these sundry shapes of woe ; But when I faine would find the cause of this , Thy absence shewes me where the errout is . Oft when I thinke of thy departing hence , Sad sorrow then posseth ' euery sence , But finding thy deere blood preseru'd thereby , And in thy life , my long-wish'd libertie , vvith that sweet thought my selfe I onely please Amidst my griefe , which somtimes giues me ease Thus doe extreamest ils a ioy possesse , And one woe makes another woe seeme lesse . That blessed night , that milde-aspected howre , vvherein thou mad'st escape out of the Tower , Shall consecrated euer-more remaine ; VVhat gentle Planet in that howre did raigne ; And shall be happy in the birth of men , vvhich was chiefe Lord of the Ascendant then . O how I feard that sleepy iuyce I sent , Might yet want power to further thine intent ; Or that some vnseene misterie might lurke , vvhich wanting order , kindly should not worke ; Oft did I wish those dreadfull poysoned lees , That clos'd the euer-waking Dragons eyes , Or I had had those sence-bereauing stalkes That grow in shady Proserpines darke walkes ; Or those blacke weedes on Lethe bankes below , Or Lunary that doth on Latmus flow ; Oft did I feare this moist and foggie clime , Or that the earth , waxt barraine now with time , Should not haue hearbes to help me in this case , Such as doe thriue on Indias parched face . That morrow , when the blessed sunne did rise , And shut the lids of all heauens lesser eyes , Forth from my pallace by a secret stayre I steale to Thames , as though to take the ayre ; And aske the gentle flood as it doth glide , Or thou didst passe or perrish by the tide ? If thou didst perrish , I desire the streame To lay thee softly on her siluer teame , And bring thee to me to the quiet shore , That with her teares , thou might'st haue some teares more . VVhen suddainly doth rise a rougher gale , vvith that ( me thinks ) the troubled waues looke pale , And sighing with that little gust that blowes , vvith this remembrance seeme to knit theyr browes . Euen as this suddaine passion doth affright me , The cheerefull sunne breakes from a clowde to light mee ; Then doth the bottome euident appeare , As it would shew me , that thou wast not there , VVhen as the water flowing where I stand , Doth seeme to tell me , thou art safe on land . Did Bulloyne once a festiuall prepare , For England , Almaine , Cicile , and Nauarre ? vvhen Fraunce enuied those buildings ( onely blest ) Grac'd with the Orgies of my bridall feast , That English Edward should refuse my bed For that incestuous shameles Ganimed ? And in my place , vpon his regall throne , To set that girle-boy , wanton Gaueston . Betwixt the feature of my face and his , My glasse assures me no such difference is , That a foule witches bastard should thereby Be thought more worthy of his loue then I. VVhat doth auaile vs to be Princes heyres , vvhen we can boast c●r birth is onely theyrs ? vvhen base dissembling flatterers shall deceiue vs , Of all our famous Auncestors did leaue vs ; And of our princely iewels and our dowers , vvee but enioy the least of what it ours ; vvhen Minions heads must weare our Monarchs crownes , To raise vp dunghils with our famous townes ; vvhen beggers-brats are wrapt in rich perfumes , Their buzzard wings impt with our Eagles plumes ; And match'd with the braue issue of our blood , Alie the kingdome to theyr crauand brood . Did Longshanks purchase with his conquering hand , Albania , Gascoyne , Cambria , Ireland ? That young Caernaruan ( his vnhappy sonne ) Should giue away all that his Father wonne ? To backe a stranger , proudly bearing downe The braue alies and branches of the crowne ? And did great Edward , on his death-bed giue This charge to them which afterwards should liue , That that proude Gascoyne , banished the Land , No more should tread vpon the English sand ? And haue these great Lords in the quarrell stood , And seald his last will with theyr deerest blood , That after all this fearefull massaker , The fall of Beauchamp , Lasy , Lancaster● Another faithlesse fauorite should arise To cloude the sunne of our Nobilities ? And gloried I in Gauestons great fall , That now a Spenser should succeede in all ? And that his ashes should another breed , vvhich in his place and empire should succeede ; That wanting one a kingdoms wéalth to spend , Of what that left , thys now shall make an end ; To wast all that our Father won before , Nor leaue our sonne a sword to conquer more . Thus but in vaine we fondly doe resist , vvhere power can doe ( euen ) all things as it list , And with vniust men to debate of lawes , Is to giue power to hurt a rightfull cause ; vvhilst parlements must still redresse theyr wrongs , And we must starue for what to vs belongs ; Our wealth but fuell to theyr fond excesse , And we must fast to feast theyr wantonnesse . Think'st thou our wrongs then insufficient are To moue our brother to religious war ? And if they were , yet Edward doth detaine Homage for Pontiu , Guyne , and Aquytaine ; And if not that , yet hath he broke the truce , Thus all accur , to put backe all excuse . The sisters wrong , ioynd with the brothers right , Me thinks might vrge him in this cause to fight . Be all those people sencelesse of our harmes vvhich for our country ought haue manag'd armes ? Is the braue Normans courage now forgot ? Or the bold Brittaines lost the vse of shot ? The big-bon'd Almaines , and stout Brabanders , Theyr warlike Pikes , and sharp-edg'd Semiters ? Or doe the Pickards let theyr Crosbowes lie , Once like the Centaurs of old Thessalie ? Or if a valiant Leader be theyr Lacke , vvhere thou art present , who should driue them backe ? I doe coniure thee by what is most deere , By that great name of famous Mortimer , By auncient VVigmors honourable Crest , The Tombes where all thy famous Grandsires rest : Or if then these , what more may thee approue , Euen by those vowes of thy vnfained loue , That thy great hopes may moue the Christian King , By forraine Armes some comfort yet to bring , To curbe the power of traytors that rebell Against the right of princely Isabell. Vaine vvitlesse woman , why should I desire To adde more heate to thy immortall fire ? To vrge thee by the violence of hate , To shake the pillers of thine owne estate , vvhen whatsoeuer we intend to doe , To our misfortune euer sorts vnto ; And nothing els remaines for vs beside , But teares and coffins ( onely ) to prouide , VVhen still so long as Burrough beares that name Time shall not blot out our deserued shame ; And whilst cleere Trent her wonted course shall keepe , For our sad fall , her christall drops shall weepe . All see our ruine on our backs is throwne , And to our selues our sorrowes are our owne . And Torlton now whose counsell should direct The first of all is slaundred with suspect ; For dangerous things dissembled sildome are vvhich many eyes attend with busie care . VVhat should I say ? my griefes doe still renew , And but begin when I should bid adiew , Few be my words , but manifold my woe , And still I stay , the more I striue to goe . As accents issue forth , griefes enter in , And where I end , mee thinks I but begin ; Till then fayre time some greater good affoords , Take my loues payment in these ayrie words . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . O how I feard that sleepie drinke I sent , Might yet want power to further thine intent . MOrtimer beeing in the Tower , and ordayning a feast in honour of his byrth-day , as hee pretended , and inuiting there-vnto sir Stephen Segraue , Constable of the Tower , with the ●est of the officers belonging to the same , he gaue them a sleepie drinke , prouided him by the Queene , by which meanes he got libertie for his escape . I steale to Thames , as though to take the ayre , And aske the gentle streame as it doth glide , Mortimer , being got out of the Tower , swam the riuer of Thames into Kent , whereof she hauing intelligence , doubteth of his strength to escape , by reason of his long imprisonment , being almost the space of three yeeres . Did Bulloyne once a festiuall prepare , For England , Almaine , Cicile and Naeuarre ? Edward Carnaruan , the first Prince of Wales of the English blood , married Isabell , daughter of Phillip the faire at Bulloyne , in the presence of the Kings of Almaine , Nauarre , and Cicile , with the chiefe Nobilitie of Fraunce , and England , which marriage was there solemnized with exceeding pompe and magnificence . And in my place , vpon his regall throne , To set that girle-boy , wanton Gaueston . Noting the effeminacie & luxurious wantonnesse of Gaueston , the Kings Minion ; his behauiour and attire euer so womanlike , to please the eye of his lasciuious Prince . That a foule Witches bastard should thereby It was vrged by the Queene and the Nobilitie , in the disgrace of Piers Gauestone , that his mother was conuicted of witchcraft , & burned for the same , and that Piers had bewitched the King. Albania , Gascoyne , Cambria , Ireland . Albania , Scotland so called of Albanact , the second sonne of Brutus , and Cambria , Wales , so called of Camber the third son , the foure Realmes & countries , brought in subiection by Edward Longshankes . When of our princely Iewels and our dowers , We but enioy the least of what is ours . A complaint of the prodigalitie of King Edward , giuing vnto Gaueston the iewels & treasure which was left him by the auncient Kings of England ; and enriching him with the goodly Manor of Wallingford , assigned as parcel of the dower , to the queens of this famous I le . And ioyn'd with the braue issue of our blood , Alie our kingdome to their crauand brood . Edward the second , gaue to Piers Gaueston in mariage , the daughter of Gilbert Clare , Earle of Glocester , begot of the Kings sister , Ione of Acres , maried to the said Earle of Glocester . Should giue away all that his Father won To backe a stranger . King Edward offered his right in Fraunce to Charles his brother in law , and his right in Scotland to Robert Bruse , to be ayded against the Barrons , in the quarrell of Piers Gaueston . And did great Edward on his death-bed giue Edward Longshanks , on his death-bed at Carlile , commanded yong Edward his sonne , on his blessing , not to call backe Gaueston , which ( for the misguiding of the Princes youth ) was before banished by the whole counsell of the Land. That after all this fearefull massaker , The fall of Beuchamp , Lasy , Lancaster . Thomas , Earle of Lancaster , Guy , Earle of Warwick , & Henry Ea●le of Lincolne , who had taken their oaths before the deceased King at his death , to withstand his sonne Edward if hee should call Gauestone from exile , being a thing which he much feared : now seeing Edward to violate his Fathers cōmaundement , rise in Armes against the king , which was the cause of the ciuill war , & the ruine of so many Princes . And gloried I in Gauestons great fall That now a Spenser should succeed in all . The two Hugh Spensers , the Father & the sonne , after the death of Gaueston , became the great fauourites of the King , the sonne beeing created by him lord Chamberlaine , & the father Earle of Winchester . And if they were , yet Edward doth detaine Homaage for Pontiu , Guyne , and Aquitaine . Edward Longshanks , did homage for those Citties and Territories to the French King , which Edward the second neglecting moued the French King , by the subornation of Mortimer , to cease those Countries into his hands . By auncient Wigmors honourable Crest , Wigmore in the marches of Wales , was the auncient house of the Mortimers , that noble and couragious familie . That still so long as Borrough beares that name . The Queene remembreth the great ouerthrowe giuen to the Barrons , by Andrew Herckley , Earle of Carlill , at Borrough bridge , after the battaile at Burton . And Torlton now , whose counsels should direct . This was Adam Torlton , Bishop of Herford , that great Polititian , who so highly fauoured the faction of the Queene and Mortimer , whose euill counsell afterward wrought the destruction of the King. Mortimer to Queene Isabell. AS thy salutes my sorrowes doe adiourne , So backe to thee their interest I returne ; Though not in so great bountie ( I confesse ) As thy heroicke princely lines expresse ; For how should comfort issue from the breath Of one condemn'd , and long lodg'd vp in death ? From murthers rage thou didst me once repriue , Now in exile , my hopes thou doost reuiue ; Twice all was taken , twice thou all didst giue , And thus twice dead , thou mak'st me twice to liue . This double life of mine , your onely due , You gaue to me ; I giue it back to you ; Nere my escape had , I aduentur'd thus , As did the skie-attempting Daedalus ; And yet to giue more safety to my flight , Haue made a night of day , a day of night . Nor had I backt the proud aspiring wall , vvhich held without , my hopes , within , my fall , Leauing the cords to tell where I had gone , For gazing eyes with feare to looke vpon , But that thy beauty ( by a power diuine ) Breath'd a new life into this spirit of mine . Drawne by the sunne of thy celestiall eyes . vvith fiery wings made passage through the skies , The heauens did seeme the charge of me to take , And sea and land befriend me for thy sake ; Thames stopt her tide , to make me way to go , As thou hadst charg'd her that it should be so , The hollow murmuring winds their due time kept , As they had rock'd the world , whilst all things slept ; One billow bore me , and another draue me , This stroue to helpe me , and that stroue to saue me ; The brisling Reedes , mou'd with the ayre did chide me , As they would tell me , that they meant to hide me , The pale-fac'd night beheld thy heauie cheere , And would not let one little starre appeare , But ouer all , her smokie mantle hurl'd , And in thick vapours muffled vp the world ; And the pure ayre became so clame and still As it had beene obedient to my will ; And euery thing disposd vnto my rest , As when on Seas the Alc●on builds her nest . VVhen those rough waues which late with fury rusht , Slide smoothly on , and sodainly are husht ; Nor Neptune lets his surges our so long As Nature is in bringing forth her yong ; Nor let the Spensers glory in my chance That I should liue an exile heere in France : That I from England banished should be , But England rather banished from me : More were her want , France our great blood should beare , Then Englands losse should be to Mortimer . My Grandsire was the first since Arthurs raigne , That the Round-table rectifi'd againe ; To whose great Court at Kenelworth did come The peerelesse knighthood of all Christendome : vvhose Princely order , honoured England more Then all the conquests she atchiu'd before . Neuer durst Scot set foote on English ground , Nor on his backe did English beare a wound , vvhilst VVigmore flourisht in our Princely hopes , And whilst our Ensigne march'd with Edwards troupes ; vvhilst famous Longshanks bones ( in fortunes scorne ) As sacred reliques to the field were borne ; Nor euer did the valiant English doubt , vvhilst our braue battailes guarded them about . Nor did our wi●es and wofull mothers mourne The English blood that stained Banocksburne , vvhilst with his Minions sporting in his Tent , vvhole dayes and nights in banquetting were spent : Vntill the Scots ( which vnder safegard stood ) Made lauish hauocke of the English blood ? And battered helmes lay scattered on the shore , vvhere they in conquest had beene borne before . A thousand Kingdoms will we seeke from far , As many Nations wast with ciuill war , vvhere the disheuel'd gastly Sea-nimph sings , Or well-rigd ships shall stretch their swelling wings , And drag their ankors through the sandy foame , About the world in euery Clime to roame , And those vnchristned Countries call our owne , vvhere scarce the name of England hath beene knowne ; And in the dead-sea sinke our houses fame , From whose sterne waues we first deriu'd our Name , Before foule black-mouth'd infamie shall sing That Mortimer ere stoop'd vnto a King. And we will turne sterne-visag'd furie backe , To seeke his spoile , who sought our vtter sacke : And come to beard him in our natiue Ile , Ere he martch forth to follow our exile . And after all these boistrous stormie shocks , Yet will we grapple with the chaulkie Rocks . Nor will we come like Pyrats , or like theeues , From mountaine Forrests , or sea-bordering Cleeues , But fright the ayre with terror ( when we come ) Of the sterne trumpet , and the bellowing drum : And in the field aduance our plumy Crest , And martch vpon faire Englands flowrie brest ; And Thames which once we for our life did swim , Shaking our dewy tresses on her brim , Shall beare my Nauie ; vaunting in her pride , Falling from Tanet with the powerfull tide ; vvhich fertile Essex , and faire Kent shall see , Spreading her flags along the pleasant lee , vvhen on her stemming poope she proudly beares , The famous Ensignes of the Belgicke peeres . And for the hatefull sacreligious sin vvhich by the Pope he stands accursed in , The Cannon text shall haue a common glosse , Receits in parcels , shall be paid in grosse . This doctrine preach'd , who from the Church doth take , At least shall treble restitution make : For which Rome sends her curses out from farre , Through the sterne throate of terror-breathing warre , Till to th' vnpeopled shores she brings supplies Of those industrious Romaine Colonies . And for his homage , by the which of old Proud Edward Guyne and Aquitaine doth hold . Charles by inuasiue armes againe shall take , And send the English forces o're the Lake ; vvhen Edwards fortune stands vpon this chaunce , To loose in England , or expuls'd from Fraunce ; And all those townes great Longshanks left his son , Now lost againe , which once his father won . VVithin their strong perculliz'd Ports shall lie , And from their walls his sieges shall defie . And by that firme and vndissolued knot , Betwixt the neighbouring French , and bordering Scot , Bruse now shall bring his redshanks from the seas , From th'Iled Orcad's , and the Hebrydes , And to his VVesterne Hauens giue free passe , To land the vvarlike Irish Galiglasse , Marching from Tweede to swelling Humber sands , vvasting along the Northerne netherlands . And wanting those which should his power sustaine , Consum'd with slaughter in his bloody raigne , Our warlike sword shall driue him from his throne , vvhere he shall lie for vs to tread vpon ; And those great Lords now after theyr attaints , Canonized amongst the English Saints ; And by the superstitious people , thought , That by their Reliques , miracles are wrought , And thinke that flood much vertue doth retaine , vvhich tooke the blood of famous Bohun slaine ; Continuing the remembrance of the thing , To make the people more abhor theyr King. Nor shall a Spenser , ( be he nere so great ) Possesse our VVigmore , our renowned seate . To raze the auncient Trophies of our race , vvith our deserts theyr monuments to grace ; Nor shall he leade our valiant marchers forth , To make the Spensers famous in the North ; Nor be the Gardants of the Brittish pales , Defending England , and preseruing VVales . At first our troubles easily recul'd , But now growne head-strong hardly to be rul'd ; vvith grauest counsell all must be directed , vvhere plainest shewes are openly suspected ; For where mishap our error doth assault , There doth it easiliest make vs see our fault . Then ( sweet ) represse all fond and wilfull spleene , Two things to be a woman , and a Queene ; Keepe close the cyndars , least the fire should burne , It is not this which yet must serue our turne . And if I doe not much mistake the thing , The next supply shall greater comfort bring ; Till when I leaue my Princesse for a while , Liue thou in rest ; though I liue in exile . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Of one condemn'd , and long lodg'd vp in death . ROger Mortimer Lorde of Wigmore , had stoode publiquely condemned , for his insurrection with Thomas Earle of Lancaster , and Bohun Eale of Herford , by the space of three moneths : and as the report went , the day of his execution was determined to haue beene shortly after , which he preuented by his escape . Twice all was taken , ●twice thou all didst giue . At what time the two Mortimers , this Roger Lord of Wigmore , and his vncle Roger Mortimer the elder , were apprehended in the West , the Queene by meanes of Torlton Bishop of Hereford , and Becke Bishop of Duresme , and Patriarke of Ierusalem , being then both mightie in the state , vpon the submission of the Mortimers , somewhat pacified the King , and now secondly she wrought meanes for his escape . Leauing the cords to tell where I had gone , With strong ladders made of cords prouided him for the purpose , he escaped out of the Tower , which when the same were found fastened to the walls , in such a desperate attempt they bred astonishment to the beholders . Nor let the Spensers glory in my chance . The two Hugh Spensers , the Father , and the Sonne , then beeing so highly fauoured of the King , knew that their greatest safety came by his exile , vvhose high and turbulent spirit , could neuer brooke any corriuall in greatnes . My Grandsire was the first since Arthurs raigne , That the round-table rectifi'd againe . Roger Mortimer , called the great Lorde Mortimer , Grandfather to this Roger , which was afterward the first Earle of March , reerected againe the Round-table at Kenelwoorth , after the auncient order of King Arthurs table , with the retinue of a hundred Knights , & a hundred Ladyes in his house , for the entertayning of such aduentures as came thether from all parts of Christendome . Whilst famous Longshanks bones in Fortunes scorne . Edward Longshanks willed at his death , that his body should bee boyled the flesh from the bones , and that the bones should be borne to the warres in Scotland , which he was perswaded vnto by a prophecie , which told that the English should still be fortunate in conquest , so long as his bones were carried in the field . The English blood that stained Banocksburne . In the great voyage Edward the second made against the Scots , at the battell at St●iueling neere vnto the riuer of Banocksburne in Scotland , where there was in the English campe such banquetting & excesse , such riot and misorder , that the Scots , ( who in the meane time laboured for aduantage ) gaue to the English a great ouerthrow . And in the Dead-sea , sincke our houses fame , From whose , &c. Mortimer , so called of Mare Mortuum , and in French Mort●mer , in English the Dead-sea , which is said to be where Sodome & Gomorra once were , before they were destroyed by fire from heauen . And for that hatefull sacriligious sin Which by the Pope he stands accursed in . Gaeustelinus and Lucas , two Cardinalls , sent into England frō Pope Clement , to appease the auncient hate betweene the King and Thomas Earle of Lancaster , to whose Embassy the King seemed to yeeld , but after theyr departure he went back from his promises , for which hee was accursed at Rome . Of those industrious Romaine Colonies . A Colony is a sort or number of people , that come to inhabite a place before not inhabited , whereby hee seemeth heere to prophecie of the subuersion of the Land ; the Pope ioyning with the power of other Princes , against Edward , for the breach of his promise . Charles by i●uasiue Armes againe shall take . Charles the French King , mooued by the wrong done vnto hys sister , ceazeth the Prouinces which belonged to the King of England into his hands , stirred the rathe● thereto by Mortimer , who solicited her cause in Fraunce , as is expressed before in the other Epistle , in the glosse vpon this poynt . And those great Lords now after theyr attaints , Canonized among the English Saints . After the death of Thomas Earle of Lancaster at Pomfret , the people imagined great miracles to be doone by his reliques : as they did of the body of Bohun Earle of Herford , slaine at Borough bridge . FINIS . ¶ To my worthy and honoured friend , Maister VValter Aston . SIR , though without suspition of flatterie I might in more ample and freer tearmes , intymate my affection vnto you , yet hauing so sensible a tast of your generous and noble disposition , which without this habit of ceremony can estimate my loue : I will rather affect breuitie , though it shoulde seeme my fault , then by my tedious complement , to trouble mine owne opinion setled in your iudgement and discretion . I make you the Patron of this Epistle of the Black-Prince , which I pray you accept , till more easier howers may offer vp from me some thing more worthy of your view , and my trauell . Yours truly deuoted , Mich : Drayton . Edward the blacke Prince to Alice Countesse of Salisburie . ¶ The Argument . Alice , Countesse of Salisburie , remaining at Roxborough Castle , in the North , in the absence of the Earle her husband , who was by the Kings commaund sent ouer into Flaunders , and there deceased ere his returne . This Lady being besieged in her Castle by the Scots , Edward the blacke Prince being sent by the King his Father to relieue the North-parts with an Armie , and to remoue the siege of Roxborough , there fel in loue with the Countesse ; when after she returned to London , hee sought by diuers and sundry means to winne her to his youthfull pleasures , as by forcing the Earle of Kent her Father , & her Mother , vnnaturally to become his Agents in his vaine desire ; where after a long and assured trial of her inuincible constancie , hee taketh her to his wife , to which end , hee onelie frameth this Epistle . REceiue these papers , from thy wofull Lord , vvith far more woes , then they with words are stor'd , vvhich if thine eye with rashnes doe reproue , They 'le say they came from that imperious loue . In euery Letter thou maist vnderstand , vvhich Loue hath sign'd and sealed with his hand ; And where no farther processe he refers , In blots set downe , for other Characters , This cannot blush , although you doe refuse it , Nor will reply how euer you shall vse it ; Al 's one to this , though you should bid dispaire , This still intreates you , this still speakes you faire ; Hast thou a liuing soule ? a humaine fence ? To like , dislike , proue , order , and dispence , The depth of reason , soundly to aduise , To loue things good , things hurtfull to despise ; The tuch of iudgement , which should all things proue , And hast thou touch'd , yet not allow'st my loue . Sound moues his sound , voyce , doth beget his voyce , One Eccho makes another to reioyce , One well-tun'd string , set truly to his like , Strooke neere at hand , doth make another strike . How comes it then , that our affections iar ? vvhat opposition doth beget this war ? I know that nature franckly to thee gaue , That measure of her boun●ie that I haue , And with that sence she lent , she likewise lent Each one his organ , each his instrument , But euery one , because it is thine owne , Doth prise it selfe , vnto it selfe alone . Thy daintie hand when it , it selfe doth tuch , That feeling tels it there was neuer such ; VVhen in thy glasse , thine eye it selfe doth see , That thinks there 's none , like to it selfe can be , And euery one , doth iudge it selfe diuine , Because that thou doost challenge it for thine ; And each it selfe , Narcissus like doth smother , And loues it selfe , not like to any other ; Fie be not burnd thus in thine owne desire , T is needlesse beautie should it selfe admire , The sunne , by which all creatures lightned be , And seeth all , it selfe yet cannot see ; And his owne brightnes , his owne foile is made , And doth become the cause of his owne shade . VVhen first thy beautie by mine eye was prou'd , It saw not then , so much to be belou'd , But when it came a perfect view to take , Each looke of one , doth many beauties make ; In little cer●lets first it doth arise , Then somewhat larger seeming in mine eyes , And in his Gyring compasse as it goes , So more and more , the same in greatnes growes , And as it yet at libertie is set , The motion still doth other formes beget ; Vntill at length , looke any way I could , Nothing there was but beautie to behold . Art thou offended that thou art belou'd ? Remoue the cause , th' effect is soone remou'd ; Indent with beautie , how farre to extend , Set downe desire , a limmit where to end , Then charme thine eyes , theyr glaunces shall not wound , Teach reason how , the depth of loue to sound ; If thou doe this , nay then thou shalt doe more , And bring to passe what neuer was before ; Make anguish sportiue , crauing all delight , Mirth solemne , sullen , and inclind to night , Ambition lowly , enuie speaking well , Loue his reliefe of nigardize to sell ; Our warlike fathers did these forts deuise , As surest holds against our enemies , The safest places for your sexe to rest , Feare soone is setled in a womans brest , Thy breast is of another temper farre , And then thy Castle fitter for the warre . Thou doost not safely in thy Castle rest , Thy Castle should be safer in thy brest , That keepes ou● foes , but doth thy friends inclose , But thy brest keepes out both thy friends and foes ; That may be batter'd , or be vndermin'd , Or by straite siege , for want of succour pin'd , But thy hart is , inuinsible to all , And more defensiue then thy Castle wall ; Of all the shapes that euer Ioue did proue , vvhere-with he vs'd to entertaine his loue , That likes me best , when in a golden shower , He raind himselfe on Danae in her Tower , Nor did I euer enuie his commaund , In that he beares the thunder in his hand ; But in that showrie shape I cannot be , And as he came to her , I come to thee , Thy tower with foes , is not begert about , If thou within , they are besieg'd without , One haire of thine more vigor doth retaine To binde thy foe , then with an yron chaine ; VVho might be gyu'd in such a golden string , vvould not be captiue , though he were a King , Hadst thou all India heap'd vp in thy Fort , And thou thy selfe besieged in that sort , Get thou but out , where they can thee espie , They 'le follow thee , and let the treasure lie . I cannot think what force thy tower should win , If thou thy selfe doost guard the same within , Thine eye retaines artillarie at will , To kill who euer thou desir'st to kill ; For that alone more deeply wounds theyr harts Then they can thee , though with a thousand darts , For there entrenched little Cupid lies , And from those turrets all the world defies , And when thou letst downe that transparant lid , Of entrance there an Armie doth forbid . And as for famine , thou needs neuer feare , vvho thinks of want when thou art present there ; Thy onely sight giues spirit vnto the blood , And comforts life , though neuer tasting foode . And as thy souldiers keepe theyr watch and ward , So chastitie thy inward breast doth guard ; Thy modest pulse serues as a larum bell , VVhich watched by a wakefull Sentinell Is stirring still with euery little feare , vvarning if any enemie be neere ; Thy vertuous thoughts , when all the others rest , Like carefull skouts passe vp and downe thy brest , And still they round , about that place doe keepe , VVhilst all the blessed garison doe sleepe . But yet I feare , if that the truth were told , That thou hast robd , and fliest vnto this hold : I thought as much , and didst this Fort deuise , That thou in safety , heere might'st tyrannize . Yes , thou hast robd the heauen and earth of all , And they against thy lawlesse theft doe call ; Thyne eyes with mine , that wage continuall warrs , Borrow their brightnes of the twinckling starrs ; Thy breath , for which mine still in sighes consumes Hath rob'd sweet flowers , rich odors , and perfumes , Thy cheeke , for which mine all this penance proues , Steales the pure whitnes both from Swannes and Doues . Thy lips from mine , that in thy maske be pent , Haue filch'd the blushing from the orient ; O mightie Loue ! bring hether all thy power , And fetch this heauenly theefe out of her Tower , For if she may be suffered in this sort , Heauens store will soone be hoarded in this Fort. VVhen I arriu'd before that state of loue , And saw thee on the battlement aboue , I thought there was no other heauen but there , And thou an Angell didst from thence appeare . But when my reason did correct mine eye , That thou wert subiect to mortalitie , I then excus'd the Scot before had done , No maruaile though , he would the fort haue wone , Perceiuing well those enuious walls did hide More wealth then was in all the world beside ; Against thy foe , I came to lend thee ayde , And thus to thee my selfe , my selfe betrayd ; He is besieg'd , the siege that came to raise , There 's no assault that not my brest assayes , Loue growne extreame , doth finde vnlawful shifts , The Gods take shapes , and doe allure with gifts , Commaunding loue , that by great Stix doth sweare , Forsworne in loue , with Louers oathes doth beare , Loue causelesse still , doth aggrauate his cause , It is his lawe to violate all lawes ; His reason is , in onely wanting reason , And were vntrue , not deeply tuch'd with treason ; Th'vnlawfull meanes , doth make his lawfull gaine , Hee speakes most true , when he the most doth faine ; Pardon the faults that haue escap'd by mee , Against fayre vertue , chastitie , and thee ; If Gods can theyr owne excellence excell , It is in pardoning mortalls that rebell . VVhen all thy tryalls are enroul'd by fame , And all thy sexe made glorious by thy name , Then I a captiue , shall be brought hereby To adorne the tryumph of thy chastitie ; I sue not now thy Paramore to be , But as a husband to be linck'd to thee . I am Englands heyre , I thinke thou wilt confesse , VVert thou a Prince , I hope I am no lesse ; But that thy birth doth make thy stocke diuine , Else durst I boast , my blood as good as thine ; Disdaine me not , nor take my loue in scorne , vvhose brow a crowne heereafter may adorne . But what I am , I call mine owne no more , Take what thou wilt , and what thou wilt restore , Onely I craue , what ere I did intend , In faithfull loue , now happily may end . Farewell sweet Lady , so well maist thou fare To equall ioy with measure of my care ; Thy vertues more , then mortall tongue can tell , A thousand , thousand times , farewell , farewell . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Receaue these papers from thy wofull Lord. BAndello , by whom this history was made famous , being an Italian , as it is the peoples custome in that climbe● rather to faile sometime in the truth of circumstance , then toforgoe the grace of their 〈◊〉 ; in like manner as the Grecians , of whom the Satyrist . Et quicquid Graecia mendax , Audet in historia . Thinking it to be a greater tryall , that a Countesse should be sude vnto by a King , then by the sonne of a King , and consequently , that the honor of her chastitie should be the more , hath causd it to be generally taken so ; but as by Polidore , Fabian , and Froisard , appeares the contrarie is true . Yet may Bandello be very well excused as beeing a stranger , whose errors in the truth of our historie are not so materiall , that they should neede an inuectiue , least his wit should be defrauded of any part of his due , which were not lesse were euery part a fiction . Howbeit , least a common errour should preuaile against a truth these Epistles are conceiued in those persons who were indeed the actors : to wit , Edward surnamed that Black Prince , not so much of his complexion , as of the dismall battels which he fought in Fraunce , ( in like sence as we may say a black day ) for some tragicall euent , though the sunne shine neuer so bright therein . And Alice the Countesse of Salisbury , who as it is certaine was beloued of Prince Edward , so it is as certaine that many points now current in the receiued story can neuer hold together , with likelihood of such enforcement , had it not been shewed vnder the title of a King. And when thou let'st downe that transparent lid . Not that the lid is transparent , for no part of the skin is transparent , but for the gemme which that closure is sayd to containe is transparent , for otherwise how could the mind vnderstand by the eye , should not the images slide through the same , and replenish the stage of the fantasie ? but this belongs to Opticks . The Latines call the eye lid cilium ( I will not say of celande ) as the eye brow supercilium , and the haire on the eye lyds palpebra , perhaps quod palpitet , all which haue their distinct and necessary vses . Alice Countesse of Salisburie , to the blacke Prince . AS one would grant ; yet gladly would denie , Twixt hope and feare , I doubtfully reply ; A womans weakenes , least I should discouer , Answering a Prince , and writing to a louer ; And some say loue , with reason doth dispence , And wrest our plaine words to another sence : Thinke you not then , poore women had not neede Be well aduis'd to write , what men should reede , vvhen being silent moouing but awry , Giues cause of scandall and of obloquy ; vvhilst in our harts , our secret thoughts abide , Th'inuenom'd tongue of slaunder yet is tide , But if once spoke , deliuered vp to fame , Hers the report , but ours returnes the shame . About to write , yet newly entring in , Me thinks I end , ere I can well begin ; VVhen I would end , then somthing makes me stay , And then me thinks , I should haue more to say , And some one thing remaineth in my brest ; For want of words that cannot be exprest ; vvhat I would say ; and said to thee I faine , Then in thy person I reply againe , Then in thy cause , vrge all I can obiect , Then what againe , mine honour must respect . O Lord ! what sundry passions doe I try ? Striuing to hate , you forcing contrarie ; Being a Prince , I blame you not to proue , The greater reason to obtaine your loue . That greatnes which doth challenge no deniall , The onely rest that doth allow my triall : Edward so great , the greater were his fall , And my offence in this were capitall . To men is granted priuiledge to tempt , But in that charter , women be exempt : Men win vs not , except we giue consent ; Against our selues , except our selues are bent . VVho doth impute it is a fault to you ? You proue not false , except we be vntrue ; It is your vertue , being men to trie , And it is ours , by vertue to denie . Your fault it selfe , serues for the faults excuse , And makes it ours , though yours be the abuse . Beauty a begger , fie it is too bad , vvhen in it selfe sufficiencie is had , Not made a lure t' intice the wandring eye , But an attire t' adorne sweet modestie . If modestie and women once doe seuer , Farewell our fame , farewell our name for euer . Let Iohn and Henry , Edwards instance be , Matilda and faire Rosamond for me : A like both woo'd , alike ●u'd to be wonne , Th' one by the Father , th' other by the Sonne . Henry obtaining , did our weakenes wound , And layes the fault on wanton Rosamond ; Matilda cha●t , in life , and death all one , By her deniall , layes the fault on Iohn , By these we proue , men accessarie still , But women onely principals of ill . VVhat prayse is ours , but what our vertues get ? If they be lent , so much we be in debt , vvhilst our owne honours , vertue doth defend● All force too weake , what euer men pretend ; If all the world else , should suborne our fame , T is we our selues that ouerthrow the same ; And how so ere , although by force you win , Yet on our weakenes still returnes the sin . You are a vertuous Prince , so thought of all , And shall I then , be guiltie of your fall ? Now God forbid ; yet rather let me die , Then such a sinne , vpon my soule should lie . VVhere is great Edward ? whether is he led ? At whose victorious name , whole Armies fled . Is that braue spirit , that conquer'd so in France , Thus ouercome , and vanquish'd with a glance ? Is that great hart , that did aspire so hie , So soone transpersed with a womans eye ? He that a King , at Poycters battell tooke , Himselfe led captiue with a wanton looke ? Twice as a bride , to Church I haue beene led , Twice haue two Lords , enioy'd my Bridall bed ; How can that beauty yet , be vndestroy'd , That yeeres haue wasted , and two men enioy'd ? Or should be thought fit for a Princes store , Of which two subiects were possess'd before ? Let Spaine , let Fraunce , or Scotland so prefer , Their infant Queenes , for Englands dowager , That blood should be , much more then halfe diuine● That should be equall euery way with thine : Yet Princely Edward , though I thus reproue you , As mine owne life , so deerely do I loue you . My noble husband , which so loued you , That gentle Lord , that reuerend Mountague , Nere mothers voice , did please her babe so well , As his did mine , of you to heare him tell ; I haue made short the houres , that time made long , And chain'd mine eares , vnto his pleasing tong , My lips haue waited , on your praises worth , And snatch'd his words , ere he could get them forth ; vvhen he hath spoke , and somthing by the way● Hath broke off that he was about to say ; I kept in mind , where from his tale he fell , Calling on him , the residue to tell ; Oft he would say , how sweet a Prince is hee . vvhen I haue prais'd him but for praising thee , And to proceed , I would entreat and wooe , And yet to ease him , helpe and prayse thee too : Must she be forc'd , t'exclaime th'iniurious wrong ? Offred by him , whom she hath lou'd so long ? Nay , I will tell , and I durst almost sweare , Edward will blush , when he his fault shall heare . Iudge now that time doth youths desire asswage , And reason mildly quench'd the fire of rage . By vpright iustice , let my cause be tride , And be thou iudge if I not iustly chide . That not my Fathers graue and reuerent yeeres , His bending knee , his cheeke-bedewing teares , His prayers , perswasions , nor entreats could win , To free himselfe as guiltlesse of my sin . My mothers cries , her shreeks , her pittious mones , Her deepe-fetch'd sighs , her sad hart-breaking grones , Thy lustfull rage , thy tyranny could stay ; Mine honours ruine , further to delay ; Haue I not lou'd you ? say can you say no , That as mine owne preseru'd your honour so . Had your ●ond will , your foule desires preuail'd , vvhen you by them my chastitie assail'd : Though this no way could haue excus'd my fault , True vertue neuer yeelded to assault , Yet what a thing were this it should be said , My parents sin should to your charge be laid : And I haue gain'd my liberty with shame , To saue my life , made shipwrack of my name . Did Roxborough once vaile her towring sane , To thy braue ensigne , on the Northerne plaine ? And to thy trumpet sounding from thy Tent , Often replie with ioy , and merriment ? And did receiue thee as my soueraigne liege Comming to ayde , thou shouldst againe besiege , To raise a foe , but for my treasure came To plant a foe , to take my honest name ; Vnder pretence to haue remou'd the Scot , And wouldst haue wone more then he could haue got : That did ingirt me readie still to flie , But thou laid'st batterie to my chastitie : O modestie , didst thou me not restraine , How I could chide you in this angrie vaine : A Princes name , ( heauen knowes ) I doe not craue , To haue those honours , Edwards spouse should haue ; Nor by ambitious lures will I be brought In my chast brest to harbour such a thought , As to be worthy to be made a Bride , An Empresse place by mighty Edwards side , Of all the most vnworthy of that grace , To waite on her that should enioy that place . But if that loue , Prince Edward doth require , Equall his vertues , and my chast desire : If it be such as we may iustly vaunt , A Prince may sue for , and a Lady graunt : If it be such as may suppresse my wrong , That from your vaine vnbridled youth hath sprong , That faith I send , that I from you receaue , The rest vnto your Princely thoughts I leaue . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Twice as a Bride I haue to Church beene led . THe two husbands of which she maketh mention , obiecting Bigamay against her selfe , as beeing therefore not meete to be maried with a Batcheler-Prince , were Sir Thomas Holland Knight , & Sir William Mountague , afterward made Earle of Salisburie . That not my Fathers graue and reuerent yeeres . A thing incredible , that any Prince should be so vniust to vse the Fathers meanes for the corruption of the daughters chastitie , though so the historie importeth , her Father being so honourable , and a man of so singuler desert , though Polidore would haue her thought to be Iane , the daughter to Edmund Earle of Kent , Vncle to Edward the third , beheaded in the Protectorship of Mortimer , that daungerous aspirer . And I haue gain'd my libertie with shame . Roxborough is a Castle in the North , mistermed by Bandello Salisburie Castle , because the king had giuen it to the Earle of Salisburie , in which her Lord being absent , the Countesse by the Scots was besieged , who by the cōming of the English Armie were remoued . Heere first the Prince saw her , whose liberty had been gained by her shame , had she been drawne by dishonest loue to satisfie his appetite , but by her most prayse-worthy constancie she conuerted that humor in him to an honourable purpose , & obtained the true reward of her admired vertues . The rest vnto your princely thoughts I leaue . Least any thing be left out which were worth the relation , it shall not be impertinent to annex the opinions that are vttered concerning her , whose name is said to haue been A●lips , but that beeing reiected as a name vnknowne among vs , Froisard is rather belieued , who calleth her Alice . Polidore contrariwise as before is declared , names her Iane , who by Prince Edward had issue , Edward dying young , and Richard the second King of England , though ( as he saith ) she was deuorced afterwards , because within the degrees of consanguinitie prohibiting to marrie , the truth whereof I omit to discusse , her husband the Lord Montague , being sent ouer with the Earle of Suffolke into Flaunders by King Edward , was taken prisoner by the French , & not returning , left his Countesse a widow in whose bed succeeded Prince Edward , to whose last and lawfull request the reioycefull Ladie sends this louing aunswere . FINIS . To the Right Honourable and my very good Lord , Edward Earle of Bedford . THrice noble and my gracious Lord , the loue I haue euer borne to the illustrious house of Bedford , and to the honourable familie of the Harringtons , to the which by marriage your Lordship is happily vnited , hath long since deuoted my true and zealous affection to your honourable seruice , and my Poems to the protection of my noble Ladie , your Countesse ; to whose seruice I was first bequeathed , by that learned and accomplished Gentleman , Sir Henry Goodere , ( not long since deceased , ) whose I was whilst hee was , whose patience pleased to beare with the imperfections of my heedlesse and vnstated youth . That excellent and matchlesse Gentleman , was the first cherrisher of my Muse , which had beene by his death left a poore Orphan to the world , had hee not before bequeathed it to that Lady whō●e so deerly loued . Vouchsafe then my deere Lord to accept this Epistle , which I dedicate as zealously , as ( I hope ) you will patronize willingly , vntill some more acceptable seruice may be witnesse of my loue to your honour . Your Lordships euer , Michaell Drayton . Queene Isabell to Richard the second . ¶ The Argument . Queene Isabell ( the daughter of Charles King of Fraunce ) being the second wife of Richard the second , the sonne of Edward the blacke Prince , the eldest sonne of King Edward the third ; After the said Richard her husband was de●osed from his crowne and kingly dignitie , by Henry Duke of Herford , the eldest sonne of Iohn of Gaunt Duke of Lankaster , the fourth sonne of Edward the third , this Lady beeing then very young , was sent backe againe into Fraunce , without dowre , at what time the deposed King her husband was sen● from the Tower of London ( as a prisoner ) vnto Pomfret Castle . VVhether this poore Lady bewailing her husbands misfortunes , writeth this Epistle from Fraunce . AS doth the yeerely Auger of the spring In depth of woe , thus I my sorrow sing ; vvords tun'd with sighs , teares falling oft among A dolefull bur●hen to a heauie song ; VVords issue forth to finde my griefe some way , Teares ouertake them , and doe bid them stay ; Thus whilst one striues to keepe the other back , Both once too forward , now are both too slack . If fatall Pomfret hath in former time Nurrish'd the griefe of that vnnaturall Clime . Thether I send my sorrowes to be fed , But where first borne , where fitter to be bred ? They vnto Fraunce be aliens and vnknowne , England from her doth challenge these her own . They say al mischiefe commeth from the North , It is too true , my fall doth set it forth ; But why should I thus limmit griefe a place , vvhen all the world is fild with our disgrace ? And we in bounds thus striuing to containe it , The more resists the more we doe restraine it . Oh how euen yet I hate these wretched eyes , And in my glasse oft call them faithlesse spies ( Prepard for Richard ) that vnwares did looke Vpon that traytor , Henry Bollingbrooke , But that excesse of ioy my sence bereau'd So much my sight had neuer been deceau'd . Oh how vnlike to my lou'd Lord was hee , vvhom rashly I , sweet Richard tooke for thee , I might haue seene the Coursers selfe did lack , That princely rider should bestride his back , Hee that ( since nature her great work began ) Shee made to be the mirrhor of a man , That when she ment to forme som matchles lim Still for a patterne , tooke some part of him , And ielous of her cunning brake the mould , In his proportion done the best she could . Oh let that day be guiltie of all sin , That is to come , or heeretofore hath bin , vvherein great Norfolkes forward course was staid , To proue the treasons he to Herford layd , vvhen ( with sterne furie ) both these Dukes enrag'd , Theyr vvarlike gloues at Couentry engag'd , vvhen first thou didst repeale thy former grant , Seal'd to braue Mowbray , as thy Combatant , From his vnnumbred houres let time deuide it , Least in his minutes , he should hap to hide it ; Yet on his brow continually to beare it , That when it comes , all other dayes may feare it , And all ill-boding Planets , by consent , That day may hold theyr dreadfull parlement , Be it in heauens Decrees enroled thus , Blacke , dismall , fatall , inauspitious , Proude Herford then , in height of all his pride , Vnder great Mowbrayes valiant hand had dy'de ; Nor should not thus from banishment retyre , The fatall brand to set our Troy on fire . O why did Charles relieue his needie state ? A vagabond , and stragling runnagate ; And in his Court , with grace did entertaine This vagrant exile , this abiected Caine , VVho with a thousand mothers curses went , Mark'd with the brands of ten yeeres banishment . VVhen thou to Ireland took'st thy last farewell , Millions of knees vpon the pauements fell , And euery where th' applauding ecchoes ring The ioyfull shouts that did salute a King ; Thy parting hence , what pompe did not adorne ? At thy returne , who laugh'd thee not to scorne ? VVho to my Lord , a looke vouchsaf'd to lend , Then all too few on Herford to attend . Princes ( like sunnes ) be euermore in sight , All see the clowdes betwixt them and their light ; Yet they which lighten all downe from theyr skies , See not the cloudes offending others eyes , And ●eeme their noone-tide is desir'd of all , VVhen all expect cleere changes by theyr fall . VVhat colour seemes to shadow Herfords claime , vvhen law and right his Fathers hopes doth maime ? Affirm'd by Church-men ( which should beare no hate ) That Iohn of Gaunt , was illegittimate ; vvhom his reputed Mothers tongue did spot , By a base Flemish Boore to be begot , vvhom Edwards Eglets mortally did shun , Daring with them to gaze against the sun . VVhere lawfull right and conquest doth allow , A triple crowne on Richards princely brow , Three kingly Lyons beares his bloody field , No bastards marke doth blot his conquering shield , Neuer durst hee attempt our haplesse shore , Nor set his foote on fatall Rauenspore ; Nor durst his slugging Hulkes approch the strand , Nor stoope a top as signall to the land , Had not the Percyes promisd ayde to bring , Against theyr oath vnto theyr lawfull King ; Against theyr faith vnto our Crownes true heyre , Theyr valiant kinsman , Edmond Mortimer , VVhen I to England came , a world of eyes Like starrs attended on my faire arise , At my decline , like angry Planets frowne , And all are set before my going downe ; The smooth-fac'd a●re did on my comming smile , But with rough stormes are driuen to exile ; But Bullingbrooke deuisd we thus should part , Fearing two sorrowes should possesse one hart ; To make affliction stronger doth denie That one poore comfort left our misery . He had before diuorc'd thy crowne and thee , vvhich might suffice , and not to widow mee , But that to proue the vtmost of his hate , To make our fall the greater by our state . Oh would Aume●le had sunck when he betraid , The compl●t which that holy Abbot layd , vvhen he infring'd the oath which he first tooke For thy reuenge on periur'd Bullingbrooke . And been the raunsome of our friends deere blood Vntimely lost , and for the earth too good ; And we vntimely mourne our hard estate , They gone too soone , and we remaine too late . And though with teares I from my Lord depart , This curse on Herford fall to ease my hart ; If the foule breach of a chast nuptiall bed , May bring a curse , my curse light on his head ; If mu●thers guilt with blood may deeply staine , Greene , Scroope , and Bushie die his fault in graine ; If periurie may heauens pure gates debar , Damn'd be the oath he made at Doncaster ; If the deposing of a lawfull King , Thy curse condemne him , if no other thing , If these disioynd , for vengeance cannot call , Let them vnited , strongly curse him all . And for the Percyes , heauen may heare my prayer , That Bullingbrooke now plac'd in Richards chaire , Such cause of woe vnto theyr wiues may be , As those rebellious Lords haue beene to me . And that proude Dame , which now controlleth all , And in her pompe triumpheth in my fall , For her great Lord may water her sad eyne , vvith as salt teares as I haue done for mine ; And mourne for Henry Hotspur , her deere sonne , As I for my sweet Mortimer haue done ; And as I am , so succourlesse be sent , Lastly , to taste perpetuall banishment . Then loose thy care , where first thy crowne was lost , Sell it so deerely , for it deerely cost ; And sith they did of libertie depriue thee , Burying thy hope , let not thy care out-liue thee . But hard ( God knowes ) with sorrow doth it goe , vvhen woe becomes a comfort to woe ; Yet much ( me thinks ) of comforter I could say , If from my hart pale feare were rid away ; Some thing there is , which tels me still of woe , But what it is , that heauen aboue doth know , Griefe to it selfe , most dreadfull doth appeare , And neuer yet was sorrow voyde of feare ; But yet in death , doth sorrow hope the best , And with this farewell wish thee happy rest . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . If fatall Pomfret hath in former time POmfret Castle euer a fatall place to the Princes of England , and most ominous to the blood of Plantaginet . Oh how euen yet I hate these wretched eyes And in my glasse &c. When Bullingbrooke returned to London from the West , bringing Richard a prisoner with him , the Queene who little knew of her Husbands hard successe , stayd to behold his comming in , little thinking to haue seene her Husband thus ledde in tryumph by his foe , and nowe seeming to hate her eyes , that so much had graced her mortall enemie . Wherein great Norfolks forward course was stayd . She remembreth the meeting of the two Dukes of Herforde and Norfolke at Couentry , vrging the iustnes of Mowbrayes quarrell against the Duke of Herford , & the faithfull assurance of his victorie . O why did Charles relieue his needie state ? A vagabond &c. Charles the French King her father , receiued the Duke of Herford in his Court , and releeued him in Fraunce , beeing so neerely alied , as Cosin german to king Richard his sonne in Lawe , which he did simply , little thinking that he should after returne into England , and dispossesse King Richard of the Crowne . When thou to Ireland took'st thy last farewell . King Richard made a voyage with his Armie into Ireland , against Onell & Mackemur which rebelled , at what time Henry entred here at home , and robd him of all kinglie dignitie . Affirm'd by Church-men ( which should beare no hate ) That Iohn of Gaunt was illegitimate . William Wickham , in the great quarrell betwixt Iohn of Gaunt and the Clergy , of meere spight and malice ( as it should seeme ) reported that the Queene confessed to him on her death-bed , being then her Confessor , that Iohn of Gaunt , was the sonne of a Flemming , & that she was brought to bed of a woman child at Gaunt , which was smothered in the cradle by mischaunce , and that she obtained this chylde of a poore woman , making the king belieue it was her own , greatlie fearing his displeasure . Fox ex Chron. Alban● . No bastards marke doth blot our conquering shield . Shewing the true and indubitate birth of Richard , his right vnto the Crowne of England , as carrying the Armes without blot or difference . Against theyr fayth vnto the Crownes true heire , Their noble kindsman , &c. Edmund Mortimer , Earle of March , sonne of Earle Roger Mortimer which was sonne to Lady Phillip , daughter to Lionell Duke of Clarence , the third sonne to king Edward the third , which Edmund ( king Richard going into Ireland ) was proclaimed heyre apparant to the Crowne , whose Aunt called Ellinor , this Lord Fiercie had married . O would Aumerle had suncke when he betrayd The complot which that holy Abbot layd . The Abbot of Westminster had plotted the death of king Henry , to haue been done at a Tylt at Oxford ; of which confederacie there was , Iohn Holland , Duke of Excester , Thomas Holland , Duke of Surrey , the Duke of Aumerle , Mountacute , Earle of Salisbury , Spenser , Earle of Gloster , the Bishop of Carlile , Sir Thomas Blunt , these all had bound themselues one to another by Indenture to performe it , but were all betrayd by the Duke of Aumerle . Scroope , Greene , and Bushie , die his fault in graine , Henry going towards the Castle of Flint , where King Richard was , caused Scroope , Greene , & Bushie , to be executed at Bristow , as vile persons , which had seduced this king to this lasciuious & wicked life . Damn'd be the oath he made at Doncaster . After Henries exile , at his returne into England , he tooke his oath at Doncaster vpon the Sacrament , not to claime the crown , or kingdom of England , but onely the Dukedome of Lancaster , his own proper right , and the right of his wife . And mourne for Henry Hotspur , her deere sonne , As I for my &c. This was the braue couragious Henry Hotspur , that obtained so many victories against the Scots , which after falling out right with the curse of Queene Isabell , was slaine by Henry , at the battaile at Shrewsburie . Richard the second to Queene Isabell. WHat may my Queene , but hope for from that hand , Vnfit to write ; vnskilful to command ? A kingdoms greatnes , hardly can he sway , That wholesome counsaile neuer did obey ; Ill this rude hand did guide a Scepter then , VVorse now ( I feare me ) gouerneth a pen , How shall I call my selfe , or by what name , To make thee know from whence these letters came ? Not from thy husband , for my hatefull life , Hath made thee widdow , being yet a wife ; Nor from a King , that title I haue lost , Now of that name proud Bulling brooke may boast : vvhat I haue beene , doth but this comfort bring , That no woe is , to say , I was a King. This lawlesse life , which first p●ocur'd my hate , This tong , which then denounc'd my regall state , This abiect mind , that did consent vnto it , This hand , that was the instrument to doe it ; All these be witnes , that I doe denie All passed hopes , all former soueraigntie . Didst thou for my sake leaue thy fathers Court , Thy famous Country , and thy virgine port , And vndertook'st to trauaile dangerous waves , Driuen by aukward winds , and boyst'rous seas ; And left 's great Burbon for thy loue to me , vvho su'd in marriage to be linck'd to thee ; Offring for dower the Countries neighbouring nie , Of fruitfull Almaine , and rich Burgundie ; Didst thou all this , that England should receaue thee , To miserable banishment to leaue thee ? And in my downfall , and my fortunes wracke , Forsaken thus , to Fraunce to send thee backe . VVhen quiet sleepe ( the heauie harts reliefe ) Hath rested sorrow , somwhat lesned griefe , My passed greatnes vnto minde I call , And thinke this while I dreamed of my fall ; vvith this conceite , my sorrowes I beguile , That my fayre Queene is but with-drawne awhile , And my attendants in some chamber by , As in the height of my prosperitie . Calling aloud , and asking who is there , The Eccho answering , tells me VVoe is there , And when mine armes would gladly thee enfold , I clip the pillow , and the place is cold , vvhich when my waking eyes precisely view , T is a true token , that it is too true . As many minutes as in the houres there be , So many houres each minute seemes to me ; Each houre a day , morne , noone-tide , and a set , Each day a yeare , with miseries complet . A vvinter , spring-time , sommer , and a fall , All seasons varying , but vnseasoned all ; In endlesse woe , my thred of life thus weares , By minutes , houres , dayes , monthes , and ling'ring yeares , They praise the Sommer , that enioy the South , Pomfret is closed in the Norths cold mouth : There pleasant Sommer dwelleth all the yeere , Frost-starued-winter doth inhabite heere ; A place wherein dispaire may fitly dwell , Sorrow best suting with a clowdie Cell : VVhen Herford had his iudgement of exile , Saw I the peoples murmuring the while ; Th' vncertaine Commons touch'd with inward care , As though his sorrowes mutually they bare : Fond women , and scarse speaking children mourne , Bewaile his parting , wishing his returne ; Then being forc'd t' abridge his banish'd yeeres , vvhen they bedew'd his footsteps with their teares : Yet by example could not learne to know To what his greatnes by this loue might grow , vvhilst Henry boasts of our atthieuements done , Bearing the trophies our great fathers wone ; And all the storie of our famous warre Now grace the Annalls of great Lancaster . Seuen goodly siens in their spring did flourish , vvhich one selfe root brought forth , one stocke did nourish : Edward the top-braunch of that golden tree , Nature in him her vtmost power did see , vvho from the bud still blossomed so faire , As all might iudge what fruit it meant to beare : But I his graft of eu'ry weede ore-growne , And from the kind , as refuse forth am throwne , From our braue Grandsire , both in one degree , Yet after Edward , Iohn the young'st of three . Might princely VVales beget an Impe so base , ( That to Gaunts issue should giue soueraigne place ) That leading Kings from Fraunce returned home , As those great Caesars brought their spoyles to Rome , vvhose name obtayned by his fatall hand , vvas euer fearefull to that conquered land ; His fame increasing , purchasd in those warres , Can scarcely now be bounded with the starres . VVith him is valour quite to heauen fled , ( Or else in me is it extinguished , ) vvho for his vertue and his conquests sake Posteritie a demie God shall make , And iudge this ●ile and abiect spirit of mine Could not proceed from temper so diuine : VVhat earthly humor , or what vulgar eye Can looke so low as on our miserie ? VVhen Bulling brook is mounted to our throne , And makes that his , which we but call'd our owne : Into our Counsels he himselfe intrudes , And who but Henry with the multitudes . His power disgrad's , his dreadfull frowne disgraceth , He throwes them downe , whom our aduancement placeth ; As my disable , and vnworthie hand , Neuer had power belonging to command . He treads our sacred tables in the dust , And proues our acts of Parlament vniust ; As thoug● he hated that it should be said , That such a law by Richard once was made . VVhilst I depresd before his greatnes lie , Vnder the waight of hate and infamie . My back a foot-stoole Bulling brook to raise , My loosenes mock'd , and hatefull by his praise : Out-liu'd mine honour , buried my estate , And nothing left me , but the peoples hate . ( Sweet Queene ) I le take all counsell thou canst giue , So that thou bid'st me neither hope nor liue ; Succour that comes , when ill hath done his worst , But sharpens greefe , to make vs more accurst . Comfort is now vnpleasing to mine eare , Past cure , past care , my bed become my Beere . Since now misfortune humbleth vs so long , Till heauen be growne vnmindfull of our wrong , Yet they forbid my wrongs shall euer die , But still remembred to posteritie ; And let the crowne be fatall that he weares , And euer wet with wofull mothers teares . Thy curse on Percie angry heauens preuent , vvho haue not one cuise left , on him vnspent , To scourge the world , now horrowing of my store , As rich of woe , as I a King am poore . Then cease ( deere Queene ) my sorrowes to bewaile , My wounds too great for pittie now to heale , Age stealeth on , whilst thou complainest thus , My greefes be mortall , and infectious ; Yet better fortunes , thy fayre youth may trie , That follow thee , which still from me doth flie . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . This tongue which first denounc'd my regall flate . RIchard the second , at the resignation of the Crowne to the Duke of Herford , in the Tower of London , deliuering the lame with his owne hand , there confessed his disabilitie to gouerne , vtterly denouncing all kingly dignitie . And left'st great Burbon for thy loue to me , Before the Princesse Isabell was married to the King , Lewes Duke of Burbon sued to haue had her in mariage , which was thought hee had obtained , if this motion had not fallen out in the meane time ; This Duke of Burbon sued againe to haue receiued her at her comming into Fraunce , after the imprisonment of King Richard , but King Charles her Father then crost him as before , and gaue her to Charles , sonne to the Duke of Orleance . When Herford had his iudgement of exile , When the combate should haue beene at Couentrie , betwixt Hen●ie Duke of Herford , and Thomas Duke of Norfolke ; where Her●ord was adiudged to banishment for tenne yeares , the Commons exceeding lamented , so greatly was he euer fauoured of the people . Then being forc'd t' abridge his banish'd yeeres . When the Duke came to take his leaue of the King , being then at Eltham , the King to please the Commons , rather then for any lou● he beare to Herford , repleaded foure yeeres of his banishment . Whilst Henry boasts of our atchieuements done , Henry the eldest Sonne to Iohn Duke of Lancaster , at the first Earle of Darby , then created Duke of Herford , after the death of the Duke Iohn his Father , was Duke of Lancaster and Hereford , Earle of Darby , Leicester , and Lincolne ; and after he had obtained the Crowne , was called by the name of Bullingbrooke , which is a towne in Lincolneshire , as vsually all the Kings of England bare the name of the places where they were borne . Seauen goodly syens in their spring did flourish , Edward the third had seuen Sonnes , Edward Prince of Wales , after called the blacke Prince , William of Hatfield the second , Lionell Duke of Clarence the third , Iohn of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster the fourth , Edmond of Langley Duke of Yorke the Fifth , Thomas of Woodstocke Duke of Gloster the sixth , William of Windsore the seuenth . Edward the top-branch of that golden tree , Truly boasting himselfe to bee the eldest Sonne of Edward the blacke Prince . Yet after Edward , Iohn the young'st of three . As disabling Henry Bullingbrooke , being but the sonne of the fourth brother : William and Lionell beeing both before Iohn of Gaunt . That leading Kings from Fraunce , returned home Edward the black Prince , taking Iohn King of Fraunce prisoner , at the battell of Poict●●s , brought him into England , where at the Sauoy he died . Whose name atchiued by his fatall hand , Called the black Prince , not so much of his complexion , as of the famous battell hee fought , as is shewed before : in the Glosse vppon the Epistle of Edward to the Countesse of Salisburie . And proues our acts of Parlement vniust . In the next Parlement , after Richards resignation of the Crowne , Henry caused to be annihilated all the lawes made in the Parlament , called the wicked Parlement , helde in the twenty yeere of king Richards raigne . FINIS . Queene Katherine to Owen Tudor . The Argument . After the death of that victorious Henry the fift , Queene Katherine , the dowager of England and Fraunce , daughter to Charles the French King , holding her estate with Henrie her sonne , ( then the sixt of that name , ) falleth in loue with Owen Tuder , a VVelshman , a braue and gallant Gentleman of the VVardrope to the young King her son ; yet greatlie fearing if her loue shoulde bee discouered , the Nobilitie would crosse her purposed marriage ; or fearing , that if her faire & princely promises should not assure his good successe , this high and great attempt , might ( perhaps ) daunt the forwardnesse of his modest and shamefast youth ; wherefore to breake the Ice to her intent , shee writeth vnto him this Epistle following . IVdge not a Princesse worth impeach'd heereby That loue thus tryumphs ouer maiestie ; Nor thinke lesse vertue in this royall hand , vvhich now intreats , that wonted to commaund , For in this sort , though humbly now it wooe , The day hath beene , thou would'st haue kneeld vnto . Nor thinke that this submission of my state , Proceedes from frailty , ( rather iudge it fate ) Alcides nere more fit for wars sterne shock , Then when for loue sate spinning at the rock , Neuer lesse clowdes did Phoebus glory dim , Then in a clownes shape when he couered him ; ●oues great commaund was neuer more obey'd , Then when a Satyres anticke parts he plai'd . He was thy King that sued for loue to mee , Shee is thy Queene that sues for loue to thee . VVhen Henry was , what 's Tudors now , was his ; vvhilst vet thou art , what 's Henries , Tudors is ; My loue to Owen , him my Henry giueth , My loue to Henry , in my Owen liueth ; Henry woo'd me , whilst wars did yet increase , I wooe my Tudor , in sweet calmes of peace , To force affection , he did conquest proue , I fight with gentle arguments of loue . Incampt at Melans , In warres hote alarmes , First saw I Henry , clad in princely Armes . At pleasant VVindsore , first these eyes of mine , My Tudor iudg'd for wit and shape diuine . Henry abroade , with puissance and with force , Tudor at home , with courtship and discourse , He then , thou now , I hardly can iudge whether Did like me best , Plantaginet or Tether . A march , a measure , battell , or a daunce , A courtly rapier , or a conquering Launce . His princely bed hath strengthned my renowne , And on my temples set a double crowne ; vvhich glorious wreath , ( as Henries lawfull heire ) Henry the sixt vpon his brow doth beare . At Troy in Champaine he did first enioy My bridal-rites , to England brought from Troy , In England now , that honour thou shalt haue , vvhich once in Champaine famous Henry gaue● I seeke not wealth , three kingdoms in my power , If these suffise not , where shall be my dower ? Sad discontent may euer follow her , vvhich doth base pelfe before true loue prefer ; If ●itles still could our affections tie , vvhat is so great but maiestie might buy ? As I seeke thee , so Kings doe me desire , To what they would , thou easily mai'st aspire . That sacred fire , once warm'd my hart before , The fuell fit , the flame is now the more , And meanes to quench it , I in vaine doe proue , vve may hide treasure , but not hide our loue , And since it is thy fortune ( thus ) to gaine it , It were too late , nor will I now restraine it . Nor these great titles vainely will I bring , vvife , daughter , mother , sister to a King , Of grandsire , father , husband , sonne , & brother , More thou alone to me , then all the other . Nor feare my Tudor that this loue of mine , Should wrong the Gaunt-borne great Lancastrian lin● , Nor stir the English blood , the Sunne and Moone , T'repine at Loraine , Burbon , Alansoon ; Nor doe I thinke there is such different ods , They should alone be numbred with the Gods. Of Cadmus earthly issue reckoning vs , And they from ●oue , Mars , Neptune , Eolus , Of great Latonas of-spring onely they , And we the brats of wofull Niobe , Our famous Grandsires ( as theyr owne ) bestrid , That horse of fame , that God-begotten steed , vvhose bounding hoofe plow'd that Boetian spring , vvhere those sweet maides of memory doe sing , Not onely Henries Queene , but boast as well , To be the childe of Charles and Isabell. Nor doe I know from whence their griefe should grow , They by this match should be disparag'd so , vvhen Iohn and Longshanks issue both affied , And to the Kings of VVales in wedlocke tyed , Showing the greatnes of your blood thereby , Your race , and royall consanguinitie . And VVales as well as haughty England boasts , Of Camilot , and all her Penticosts ; A nephewes roome in great Pondragons race , At Arthurs table held a princely place . If by the often conquest of your land They boast the spoyles of theyr victorious hand , If these our auncient Chronicles be true , They altogether are not free from you . VVhen bloody Rufus fought your vtter sack , Twice entring VVales , yet twice was beaten back , VVhen famous Cambria wash'd her in the flood , Made by th' effusion of the English blood ; And oft return'd with glorious victorie , From VVorster , Herford , Chester , Shrowesbury , vvhose power in euery conquest so preuailes , As once expuls'd the English out of VVales . Although my beautie made my Countries peace , And at my bridall former broyles did cease , Yet more then power , had not his person beene , I had not come to England as a Queene . Nor tooke I Henry to supply my want , Because in Fraunce that time my choise was scant ; vvhen we had robd all Christendome of men , And Englands flower remain'd amongst vs then ; Gloster , whose counsels ( Nestor-like ) assist , Couragious Bedford , that great martiallist ; Clarence , for vertue honoured of his foes , And Yorke , whose fame yet daily greater growes , VVarwicke , the pride of Neuels haughtie race , Great Salisburie , so fear'd in euery place . That valiant Poole , whom no atchiuement dares , And Vere , so famous in the Irish warres , vvho though my selfe so great a Prince were borne , The worst of these my equall neede not scorne ; But Henries rare perfections and his parts , As conquering kingdoms , so he conquer'd harts . As chast was I to him , as Queene might bee , But freed from him , my chast loue vow'd to thee ; Beautie doth fetch all fauour from thy face , All perfect courtship resteth in thy grace . If thou discourse , thy lips such accents breake , As loue a spirit , foorth of thee seem'd to speake . The Brittish language , which our vowels wants , And iarrs so much vpon harsh consonants , Comes with such grace from thy mellifluous tong●e , As doe the sweet notes of a well set song , And runnes as smoothly from those lips of thine , As the pure Thuskan from the Florantine ; Leauing such seasoned sweetnes in the eare , As the voyce past , yet still the found is there ; In Nisus Tower , as when Apollo lay , And on his golden viall vs'd to play , vvhere sencelesse stones were with such musick drownd , As many yeeres they did retaine the sound . Let not the beames that greatnes doth reflect Amaze thy hopes with timerous respect , Assure thee Tudor , maiestie can be As kinde in loue , as can the mean'st degree , And the embraces of a Queene as true , As theyrs ( might iudge them ) much aduaunc'd by you , vvhen in our greatnes our affections craue Those secret ioyes that other women haue ; So I ( a Queene ) be soueraigne in my choyse , Let others fawne vpon the publique voyce , Or what ( by this ) can euer hap to thee , Light in respect to be belou'd of mee . Let peeuish worldlings prate of right and wrong , Leaue plaints and pleas , to whom they doe belong , Let old men speake of chaunces and euents , And Lawyers talke of titles , and discents , Leaue fond reports to such as stories tell , And couenaunts to those that buy and sell ; Loue my sweet Tudor , that becomes thee best , And to our good successe referre the rest . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Great Henry sought to accomplish his desire , Armed , &c. HEnry the fift making clayme vnto the Crowne of Fraunce , first sought by Armes to subdue the French , and after sought by marriage to confirme what he got by conquest , the heate and furie of which inuasion , is alluded to the fixtion of Semele in Ouid : which by the craftie perswasion of Iuno , requested Ioue to come vnto her , as he was wont to come vnto his wife Iuno , who at her request hee yeelding vnto , destroyed her in a tempest . Incamp'd at Melans in wars hote alarmes , First , &c. Neere vnto Melans , vpon the Riuer of Scyne , was the appoynted place of parley , betweene the two Kings of England , and Fraunce , to which place , Isabell the Queene of Fraunce , and the Duke of Burgoyne , brought the young Princesse Katherine , where King Henry first saw her . And on my temples set a double Crowne . Henry the fift , and Queene Katherine , vvere taken as King and Queene of Fraunce , and during the life of Charles the French King , Henry was called King of England , and heire of Fraunce , & after the death of Henry the fift , Henry the sixt his son , then being very young , was crowned at Paris , as true and lawfull king of England & Fraunce . At Troy in Champaine he did first enioy , Troy in Champayn , was the place where that victorious king Henrie the fift maried the Princesse Katherine , in the presence of the chiefe nobilitie of the Realmes of England and Fraunce . Nor these great tytles vainely will I bring , Wife , daughter , Mother , &c. Few Queenes of England , or Fraunce , were euer more princelie alied then this Queene , as it hath been noted by Historiographers . Nor thinke so Tudor , that this loue of mine , Should wrong the Gaunt-borne● &c. Noting the descent of Henry her husband , frō Iohn Duke of Lancaster , the fourth son of Edward the third , which Duke Iohn was sirnamed Gaunt , of the citty of Gaunt in Flaunders , where he was borne . Nor stir the English blood , the sunne and Moone , T'repine &c. Alluding the greatnes of the English line , to Phoebus & Phoebe , fained to be the children of Latona , whose heauenly kind might scorne to be ioyned with any earthlie progenie : yet withall , boasting the blood of Fraunce , as not inferiour to theirs . And with this allusion followeth on the historie of the strife betwixt Iuno and the race of Cadmus , whose issue was afflicted by the wrath of heauen . The chyldren of Niobe slaine , for which the wofull mother became a Rock , gushing forth continually a fountaine of teares . And Iohn and Longshanks issue , both affied , Lhewellin or Leolin ap Iorwerth , married Ioane , daughter to King Iohn , a most beautifull Lady . Some Authours affirme that shee was base borne , Lhewellin ap Gryfith maried Ellenor , daughter to Simon Montfort , Earle of Leicester , and Cosin to Edward Longshanks , both which Lhewellins were Princes of Wales . Of Camilot and all her Pentecosts , A Nephewes roome , &c Camilot , the auncient Pallace of King Arthur , to which place all the Knights of that famous order yeerely repaired at Penticost according to the lawe of the Table , and most of the famous home-borne Knights were of that Countrie , as to this day is perceiued by theyr auncient monuments . When bloody Rufus sought your vtter sacke , Noting the ill successe which that William Rufus had in two voyages he made into Wales , in which a number of his chiefe Nobilitie were slaine . And oft return'd with glorious victorie . Nothing the diuers sundry incursions that the Welchmen made into England , in the time of Rufus , Iohn , Henry the second , & Longshankes . Owen Tudor to Queene Katherine . WHen first mine eyes beheld your princely name , And found from whence this friendly letter came , As in excesse of ioy my selfe forgot , vvhether I saw it , or I saw it not ; My panting hart doth bid mine eyes proceede , My dazeled eye , inuites my tongue to reede ; Mine eye should guide my tongue , amazed mist it , My lips which now should speake , are dombe , and kist it , And leaues the paper in my trembling hand , vvhen all my sences so amazed stand ; Euen as a mother comming to her child , vvhich from her presence hath beene long exil'd , vvith tender armes his gentle necke doth straine , Now kissing him , now clipping him againe ; And yet excessiue yoy deludes her so , As still she doubts if this be hers or no ; At length awak'ned from this pleasing dreame , vvhen passion som-what leaues to be extreame , My longing eyes , with their faire obiect meete , vvhere euery letter 's pleasing , each word sweete . It was not Henries conquests , nor his Court , That had the power to win me by report , Nor was his dreadfull terror-striking name , The cause that I from VVales to England came , For Christian Rhodes , and our religious truth , To great atchieuements first had wone my youth ; Before aduenture did my valour proue , Before I yet knew what it was to loue ; Nor came I hether by some poore euent , But by th' eternall Destinies consent , vvhose vncomprised wisedomes did fore-see , That you in marriage should be linck'd to mee . By our great Merlin , was it not fore-told , ( Amongst his holy prophecies enrold ) vvhen first he did of Tudors fame diuine , That Kings and Queenes should follow in our line ? And that the Helme , ( the Tudors auncient Crest ) Should with the golden Flower-delice be drest ; And that the Leeke , ( our Countries chiefe renowne ) Should grow with Roses , in the English Crowne : As Charles fayre daughter , you the Lilly weare , As Henries Queene , the blushing Rose you beare ; By Fraunce's conquest , and by Englands oth , You are the true made dowager of both ; Both in your crowne , both in your cheeke together , Ioyne Tethers loue to yours , and yours to Tether . Then make no future doubts , nor feare no hate , vvhen it so long hath beene fore-told by Fate ; And by the all-disposing doome of heauen , Before our births , vnto one bed were giuen No Pallas heere , nor Iuno is at all , vvhen I to Venus giue the golden ball ; Nor when the Graecians wonder I enioy , None in reuenge to kindle fire in Troy. And haue not strange euents diuin'd to vs , That in our loue we should be prosperous . VVhen in your presence I was call'd to daunce , In lofty tricks whilst I my selfe aduaunce , And in my turne , my footing fail'd by hap , vvas 't not my chaunce to light into your lap ? vvho would not iudge it fortunes greatest grace , Sith he must fall , to fall in such a place ? His birth from heauen , your Tudor not deriues , Nor stands on tip-toes in superlatiues , Although the enuious English doe deuise A thousand iests of our hyperbolies ; Nor doe I claime that plot by auncient deedes , where Phoebus pastures his fire-breathing steeds ; Nor do I boast my God-made Grandsires skars , Nor Giants trophies in the Tytans wars ; Nor faine my birth ( your princely ears to please ) By three nights getting as was Hercules , Nor doe I forge my long descent to runne From aged Neptune , or the glorious Sunne , And yet in VVales with them most famous bee Our learned Bards doe sing my pedigree , And boast my birth from great Cadwallader , From old Cair-septon , in Mount Palador , And from Eneons line , the South-wales King , By Theodor the Tudors name doe bring . My royall mothers princely stock began , From her great Grandam faire Gwenellian ; By true descent from Leolin the great , As well from North-wales as faire Powslands seat ; Though for our princely Genealogie , I doe not stand to make Apologie ; Yet who with iudgements true vnpartiall eyes , Shall looke from whence our name at first did rise , Shall find that Fortune is to vs in debt ; And why not Tudor , as Plantaginet ; Nor that terme Croggen , nick-name of disgrace , Vs'd as a by-word now in euery place , Shall blot our blood , or wrong a VVelchmans name , vvhich was at first begot with Englands shame . Our valiant swords , our right did still maintaine , Against that cruell , proud , vsurping Dane ; And buckl'd in so many dangerous fights , vvith Norwayes , Swethens , and with Muscouits , And kept our natiue language now thus long , And to this day yet neuer chang'd our tong ; vvhen they which now our Nation faine would tame , Subdu'd , haue lost their Country , and their name : Nor neuer could the Saxons swords prouoke , Our Brittaine necks to beare their seruile yoke , vvhere Cambrias pleasant Countries bounded bee , vvith swelling Seuerne , and the holy Dee ; And since great Brutus first arriu'd , haue stood , The onely remnant of the Troian blood . To euery man is not allotted chaunce , To boast with Henry to haue conquer'd Fraunce ; Yet if my fortunes thus may raised be , This may presage a farther good to me . And our S. Dauid , in the Brittaines right , May ioyne with George , the sainted English Knight , And old Caer-marden , Merlins famous towne , Not scorn'd by London , though of such renowre , Ah would to God , that houre my hopes attend , vvere with my wish , brought to desired end , Blame me not Madame , though I thus desire , vvhen eyes , with enuie doe my hap admire ; Till now your beauty in nights bosome slept , vvhat eye durst stir , where awfull Henry kept● VVho durst attempt to saile but neere the bay , vvhere that all-conquering great Alcides lay ? Thy beauty now is set a royall prize , And Kings repaire to cheapen merchandize . If thou but walke to take the breathing ayre , Orithia makes me that I Boreas feare , If to the fire , Ioue once in lightning came , And faire Egina make me feare the flame . If in the sunne , then sad suspition dreames Phoebus should spread Lucothoe in his beames , If in a fountaine thou doo'st coole thy blood , Neptune I feare , which once came in a flood ; If with thy maides , I dread Apollos rape , vvho cus●ed Chion in an old wiues shape ; If thou doost banquet Bacchus makes me dread , vvho in a grape Erigone did feede ; And if my selfe the chamber doore should kepe , Yet fea●e I Hermes , comming in a sleepe , Pardon ( sweet Queene ) if I offend in this , In these delayes , loue most impatient is ; And youth wants power his hote spleene to suppresse , vvhen hope alreadie banquets in excesse . Though Henries fame , in me you shall not find , Yet that which better shall content your mind ; But onely in the title of a King vvas his aduantage , in no other thing : If in his loue more pleasure you did take , Neuer let Queene trust Brittaine for my sake . Yet iudge me not from modestie exempt , That I another Phaetons charge attempt ; My mind that thus your fauours dare aspire , Declare a temper of celestiall fire ; If loue a fault , the more is beauties blame , vvhen she her selfe is author of the same . All men to some one quallitie incline , Onely to loue , is naturally mine . Thou art by beauty famous , as by birth . Ordain'd by heauen , to cheere the drouping earth , Adde faithfull loue vnto your greater state , And then a-like in all things fortunate . A King might promise more , I not denie , But yet ( by heauen ) he lou'd not more then I. And thus I leaue , till time my faith approue , I cease to write , but neuer cease to loue . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . And that the helme , the Tudors ancient Crest , THe Armes of Tudor was the Helmes of mens heads , whereof hee speaketh as a thing prophetically fore told of Merlin . When in thy presence I was call'd to daunce . Owen Tudor , being a courtly and actiue Gentleman , commaunded once to daunce before the Queene , in a turne ( not beeing able to recouer himselfe ) fell into her lappe , as shee sate vppon a little stoole , with many of her Ladies about her . And yet with them in Wales most famous be , Our learned Bards , &c. This Berdh , as they call it in the Brittish tongue , or as wee more properly say Bard , or Bardus , be their Poets , which keepe the records of Petigrees and discents , and sing in odes and measures to the Harps , after the old manner of the Lirick Poets . And boast my blood from great Cadwallader . Cadwallader , the last King of the Brittaines , descended of the noble and auncient race of the Troyans , to whom an Angell appeared . commaunding him to goe to Rome to Pope Sergius , where he ended his life . Since faire Caer-Septon in mount Paladar , Caer-Septon , now called Shaftsbury , at whose building it was said , an Eagle prophecied ( or rather one named Aquila ) of the fame of that place , and of the recouerie of the I le of the Brittaines , bringing backe with them the bones of Cadwallader from Rome . And from Eneons line , the South-wales King , From Theodor , &c. This Eneon was slaine by the Rebels of Gwentsland , hee was a noble and worthy Gentleman , who in his life did many noble acts , and was Father to Theodor , or Tudor Maur , of whom descended the Princes of Southwales . From her great Grandam faire Guenelliam , Guenelliam , the daughter of Rees ap Greffeth , ap Theodor , Prince of South-wales , married Edniuet Vahan , auncestor to Owen Tudor . By true descent from Liolin the great , This is the Lewhelin , called Liolinus magnus , Prince of Northwales . Nor that word Croggen , nick-name of disgrace . In the voyage that Henry the second made against the VVelchmen , as his Souldiours passed Offas ditch at Croggen Castle , they were ouerthrowne by the Welchmen , which word Croggen , hath since beene vsed to the Welchmens disgrace , which was at first begun with their honour . And old Caer-Merdin , Merlins famous towne , Caer-Merdin , or Merlins Towne , so called of Merlins beeing found there . This was Ambrose Merlin , whose prophecies we● haue . There was another of that name , called Merlin Siluestris , borne in Scotland , surnamed Calidonius , of the Forrest Calidon , where he prophecied . And kept our natiue language now thus long . The Welchmen be those auncient Brittaines , which when the Picks , Danes , and Saxons inuaded heere , were first diuen into those parts , where they haue kept their language euer fince the first , without commixion with any other language . FINIS . To my worthy and deerely esteemed Friend , Maister Iames Huish . SIR , your owne naturall inclination to vertue , & your loue to the Muses , assure mee of your kinde acceptance of my dedication . It is seated by custome ( from which wee are now bolde to assume authoritie ) to beare the names of our friends vpon the fronts of our bookes , as Gentlemen vse to set theyr Armes ouer theyr gates . Some say this vse beganne by the Heroes and braue spirits of the old world , which were desirous to bee thought to patronize learning ; and men in requitall honour the names of those braue Princes . But I thinke some after , put the names of great men in their bookes , for that men shoulde say there was some thing good , onely because indeed their names stoode there ; But for mine owne part , ( not to dissemble ) I find no such vertue in any of theyr great titles to doe so much for anie thing of mine , and so let them passe . Take knowledge by this I loue you , & in good faith , worthy of all loue I thinke you , which I pray you may supply the place of further complement . Yours euer , M. Drayton . Elinor Cobham to Duke Humfrey . The Argument . Elinor Cobham , daughter to the Lord Cobham of Sterborough , and wife to Humfry Plantaginet Duke of Glocester , the son of Henry the fourth , King of England , sirnamed Bullingbrooke . This noble Duke for his great wisedome and iustice called the good , was by King Henry the fift ( brother to this Duke ) at his death appointed Protector of the Land , during the nonage of Henry the sixt ; this Elinor Duches of Glocester , a proud and ambitious woman , knowing that if young Henry died without issue , the duke her husband was the neerest of the blood , conspired with one Bullenbrooke , ( otherwise called Onely , a great Magitian ) Hun a priest , and Iourdane witch of Eye , by sorcery to make away the king , & by coniuration to know who should succeede . Of this beeing iustly conuicted , she was adiudged to do penance three seuerall times openly in London , & then to perpetuall banishment in the I le of Man , from whence she writeth this Epistle . ME thinks not knowing , who these lines should send , Thou straight turn'st ouer to the latter end , VVhere thou my name no sooner hast espi'd , But in disdaine my letters casts aside ; VVhy if thou wilt , I will my selfe denie , Nay , I 'le affirme and sweare I am not I , Or if in that thy shame thou doost perceiue , I le leaue that name , that name my selfe shall leaue , And yet me thinks , amaz'd thou shouldst not stand , Nor seeme so much appauled at my hand , For my misfortunes haue inur'd thine eye ( Long before this ) to sights of misery ; No , no , read on , t is I the very same , All thou canst read , is but to reade my shame . Be not dismaid , nor let my name afright , The worst it can , is but t' offend thy sight ; It cannot wound , nor doe thee deadly harme , It is no dreadfull spell , nor magique charme ; If shee that sent it , loue Duke Humfrey so , I st possible her name should be his foe ? Yes , I am Elnor , I am very shee , vvho brought for dower , a virgins bed to thee , Though enuious Beuford slaunder'd me before , To be Duke Humfreys wanton Paramore , And though indeed , I can it not denie , To magique once I did my selfe apply , I won thee not , as there be many thinke , vvith poysoning Philters , and betwitching drinke , Nor on thy person did I euer proue , Those wicked potions , so procuring loue , I cannot boast to be rich Hollands heyre , Nor of the blood and greatnes of Bauier , Yet Elnor , brought no forraine Armies in , To fetch her backe , as did thy Iacomin ; Nor clamorous husbands folowed me that fled , Exclaiming Humfrey to defile his bed , Nor wast thou forc'd the slaunder to suppresse , To send me backe as an adulteresse ; Brabant , nor Burgoyne , claimed me by force , Nor su'd to Rome to hasten my deuorce , Nor Belgias pompe , defac'd with Belgias fire , The iust reward of her vniust desire , Nor Bedfords spouse , your noble sister Anne , That princely-issued great Burgunnian ; Should stand with me , to moue a womans strife , To yeeld the place to the Protectors wife . If Cobhams name , my birth can dignifie , Or Sterborough , renowne my familie , VVhere 's Greenewich now , thy Elnors Court of late ? vvhere she with Humfrey held a princely state . That pleasant Kent , when I abroade should ride , That to my pleasure , layd forth all her pride ; The Thames , by water when I tooke the ayre , Daunc'd with my Barge in lanching from the stayre , The anchoring ships , that when I pass'd the roade vvere wont to hang their chequered tops abroad ; How could it be , those that were wont to stand , To see my pompe , so goddesse-like on land , Should after see mee mayld vp in a sheete , Doe shamefull penance , three times in the streete ? Rung with a bell , a Taper in my hand , Bare-foote to trudge before a Beedles wand ; That little babes , not hauing vse of tongue , Stoode poynting at me as I came along . VVher 's Humfreys power , where was his great command , vvast thou not Lord-protector of the Land ? Or for thy iustice , who can thee denie , The title of the good Duke Humfrey ? Hast thou not at thy life , and in thy looke , The seale of Gaunt , the hand of Bullingbrooke ? VVhat blood extract from famous Edwards line , Can boast it selfe to be so pure as thine ? vvho else next Henry should the Realme prefer ? If it allow of famous Lancaster ? But Rayners daughter must from Fraunce be fet , And with a vengeance on our throne be set ; Mauns , Maine , and Aniou , on that begger cast , To bring her home to England in such hast , And what for Henry thou hast laboured there , To ioyne the King with Arminacks rich heyre , Must all be dash'd , as no such thing had been , Poole needs must haue his darling made a Queen How should he with our Princes else be plac'd , To haue his Earleship with a Dukedome grac'd ? And raise the ofspring of his blood so hie , As Lords of vs , and our posteritie . O that by Sea when he to Fraunce was sent , The ship had sunck wherein the traytor went ; Or that the sands , had swallowed her before Shee ere set foote vpon the English shore . But all is well , nay we haue store to giue , vvhat need we more , we by her lookes can liue ? All that great Henries conquests euer heap'd , That famous Bedford to his glory kept , Be giuen backe , to Rayner all in post , And by this meanes , rich Normandy be lost ; Those which haue comen as Mistresses of ours , Haue into England brought their goodly dowers vvhich to our Coffers , yeerely tribute brings , The life of subiects , and the strength of Kings ; The meanes whereby faire England euer might Raise power in Fraunce , to back our auncient right , But she brings ruine , heere to make aboad , And cancels all our lawfull claime abroade , And shee must recapitulate my shame , And giue a thousand by-words to my name , And call me Beldam , Gib , VVitch , Night-mare , Trot , vvith all despight that may a woman spot : O that I were a VVitch but for her sake , I fayth her Queeneship little rest should take , I would scratch that face that may not feele the ayre , And knit whole ropes of vvitch-knots in her hayre , O I would hag her nightly in her bed , And on her breast sit like a lumpe of led , And like a Fayerie , pinch that daintie skin , Her wanton blood is now so cockerd in , Or take me some such knowne familiar shape , As she my vengeance neuer should escape ; vvere I a garment , none should neede the more To sprinkle me with Nessus poysned gore , It were enough if she once put me on , To teare both flesh and sinewes from the bone , vvere I a flower that might her smell delight , Though I were not the poysning Aconite , I would send such a fume into her brow , Should make her mad , as mad as I am now . They say the Druides , once liu'd in this I le , This fatall Man , the place of my exile , vvhose powerfull charmes , such dreadfull wonders wrought vvhich in the gothish Island tongue were taught , O that theyr spels to me they had resign'd , vvherewith they raisd and calm'd both sea and wind , And made the Moone pause in her palid spheare , vvhilst her grim Dragons drew them through the ayre , Theyr hellish power to kill the plow mans seede , Or to forespeake the flocks as they did feede , To nurse a damned spirit with humaine blood , To carry them through earth , ayre , fire , and flood ; Had I this skill that time hath almost lost , How like a Goblin , I would haunt her ghost . O pardon , pardon my misgouern'd tongue , A womans strength cannot endure my wrong . Did not the heauens her comming in withstand , As though affrighted when she came to land , The earth did quake , her comming to abide , The goodly Thames did twice keepe backe her tyde , Paules shooke with tempests , and that mounting spire , vvith lightning sent from heauen was set on fire , Our stately buildings to the ground were blowne , Her pride by these prodigious signes were showne ; More fearefull visions on the English earth , Than euer were at any death or birth . Ah Humfrey , Humfrey , if I should not speake , My breast would split , my very hart would breake . I that was wont so many to commaund , vvorse now then with a clapdish in my hand ; A simple mantle , couering me withall , A very leaper of Cares hospitall , That from my state , a presence held in awe , Glad heere to kennell in a pad of straw ; And like an Owle by night to goe abrode , Roosted all day within an Iuy tod , Amongst the sea cliffes , in the dampie caues , In charnell houses , or among the graues ; Saw'st thou those eyes , in whose sweet cheerfull looke , Duke Humfrey once , such ioy and pleasure tooke ; Sorrow hath so dispoyl'd me of all grace , Thou couldst not say , this was my Elnors face , Like a foule Gorgon , whose disheuel'd hayre vvith euery blast flies glaring in the ayre ; Some standing vp , like hornes vpon my head , Euen like those women , that in Coos are bred : My lanke breasts hang like bladders left vnblowne , My skinne with lothsome Iaundize ouer-growne ; So pin'd away , that if thou long'st to see Ruins true picture , onely looke on mee , Sometime in thinking of what I haue had , Euen in a suddaine extasie am mad ; Then like a Bedlam , forth thy Elnor runs , Like one of Bacchus raging frantick Nuns , Or like a Tartar , when in strange disguise , Prepar'd vnto a dismall sacrifice . That Prelate Be●ford , a foule ill befall him , Prelate said I , nay deuill I should call him ; Ah God forgiue me , if I thinke amisse , His very name me thinks my poyson is , Ah that vile Iudas , our professed foe , My curse pursue him where so ere he goe ; That to my iudgement when I did appeare , Layd to my charge those things which neuer were , I should pertake with Bullenbrookes intents , The hallowing of his magique instruments , That I procured Southwell to assist , vvhich was by order consecrate a Priest , That it was I should couer all they did , That but for him , had to this day beene hid . Ah that vile bastard , that himselfe dare vaunt To be the sonne of thy braue Grandsire Gaunt , vvhom he but fatherd of meere charitie , To rid his mother of that infamie , vvho if report of Elder times be true , Vnto this day , his father neuer knew . He that by murthers blacke and odious crime , To Henries throne attempted once to clime ; Hauing procur'd by hope of golden gaine , A fatall hand his soueraigne to haue slaine ; vvho to his chamber closely he conuaid , And for that purpose fitly there had layd , Vpon whose sword that famous Prince had died , If by a dogge he had not beene discried . But now the Queene , her Minion , Poole , and he , As it please them , so now must all things be , England's no place for any one beside , All is too little to maintaine their pride : Henry alas , thou but a Kings name art , For of thy selfe , thou art the lesser part ; And I pray God , I doe not liue the day To see thy ruine , and thy Realmes decay , And yet as sure , as Humfrey seemes to stand , He be preseru'd from that vile Traytors hand ; From Glosters seate , I would thou wert estrang'd , Or would to God that Dukedoms name were chang'd , For it portends no goodnes vnto vs , Ah Humfrey , Humfrey , it is ominous ; Yet rather then thy hap so hard should be , I would thou wert heere banished with me ; Humfrey adue , farewell true noble Lord , My wish is all thy Elnor can afford . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . I sought that dreadfull Sorceresse of Eye . ELinor Cobham was accused by some that sought to withstand , and mislik'd her marriage with Duke Humfrey , that shee practised to giue him Philters and such poysoning potions , to make him loue her , as she was slandered by Cardinall Beuford , to haue liued as the Dukes Lemmon , against the which Cardinall she exelaimeth in this Epistle in the verse before . Though enuious Beuford slaundered me before , Noting the extreame hate he euer bore her . Nor Elnor brought thee forraine Armies in , To fetch her backe as did thy Iacomin . This was the chiefe and onely thing that euer tuched the reputation of this good Duke ; that dotingly he marred Iacomin , or as some call her Iaquet , daughter and heire to William Bauier Duke of Holland , married before , and lawfull wife to Iohn Duke of Brabant then liuing ; which after as it is shewed in this verse following . Brabant nor Burgoyne claimed me by force , Nor su'd to Rome to hasten my deuorce . Caused great warres , by reason that the Duke of Burgoyne tooke part with Brabant , against the Duke of Glocester ; which being arbittated by the Pope , the Ladie was adiudged to be deliuered backe , to her former husband . Nor Bedfords spouse , your noble sister Anne , That Princely issued braue Burgunian . Iohn Duke of Bedford , that scourge of Fraunce , and the glory of the Englishmen , married Anne , sister to the Duke of Burgundy , a vertuous and beautifull Ladie , by which marriage , as also by his victories attained in Fraunce ; he brought great strength to the English nation . Where 's Greenewich now , thy Elnors Court of late ? That faire and goodly Pallace of Greenewich , was first builded by that famous Duke , whose rich and pleasant situation might remaine an assured monument of his wisedome , if there were no other memorie of the same . They say the Druides once liued in this I le , It would seeme that there were two Ilands , both of them called Mona , though now distinquished the one by the name of Man , the other by the name of Anglesey , both which were full of many infernall ceremonies , as may appeare by Agricolaes voyage , made into the hither most Man , described by his sonne in law Cornelius Tacitus . And as superstition the daughter of bararisme and ignorance , so amongst these northerly nations , like as in America Magicke was most esteemed . Druidae were the publique ministers of their religion , as throughly taught in all rites thereof ; their doctrine concerned the immortalitie of the soule , the contempt of death , and all other points which may conduce to resolution , fortitude , and magnanimitie : their abode was in Groues and Woods , whereupon they haue their name ; their power extended it selfe to maister the soules of men diseased , and to confer with Ghosts , and other spirits , about the successe of things . Plutarch in his profound and learned discourse of the defect of Ora●les , reporteth that the outmost Brittish Iles were the prison of I wote not what Demigods , but it shall not need to speake any farther of the Druidae , then that which Lucan doth . Et vos barbaricus ritus , moremque sinestrum , Sacrorum , Druidae positis repetistis ab armis . Did not the heauens , her comming in withstand . Noting the prodigious and fearefull signes that were seene in England , a little before her comming in : which Elinor expresseth in this Epistle , as fore-shewing the dangers which should casue vpon this vnlucky marriage . The hallowing of the magique instruments . The instruments which Bullenbrooke vsed in his coniurations , according to the deuillish ceremonies and customes of these vnlawfull Artes , were dedicated at a Masse in the Lodge in Harnsey Parke , by Southwell , Priest of Westminster . Hauing procur'd by hopes of golden gaine , This was one of the Articles that Duke Humfrey vrg'd against the Cardinall Beuford , that conspired the death of Henry the fift , by conuaying a villaine into his chamber , which in the night should haue murthered him : but what ground of truth he had for the same , I leaue to dispute . Duke Humfrey to Elinor Cobham . ME thinks thou should'st not doubt , I could forget Her whom so many doe remember yet ; No , no , our ioyes away like shadowes slide , But sorrowes firme , in memory abide ; Nay I durst answere , thou doo'st nothing lesse , But moou'd with passion , vrg'd by thy distresse ; No Elnor no , thy wooes , thy greefe , thy wrong , Haue in my breast beene resident too long ; Oh when report in euery place had spred , My Elnor was to sanctuarie fled , with cursed Onley , and the vvitch of Eye , As guilty , of their vile conspiracie ; The dreadfull spirits , when they did inuocate , For the succession , , and the Realmes estate ; vvhen Henries Image , they in waxe had wrought , By which he should vnto his death be brought ; That as his picture did consume away , His person so , by sicknes should decay ; Griefe that before , could nere my thoughts controule , That instant tooke possession of my soule . Ah would to God I could forget thine ill , As for mine owne , let that instruct me still ; But that before hath taken too sure hold , Forget it said I ; would to God I could . Of any woe , if thou hast but one part , I haue the whole remaining in my hart ; I haue no neede of others cares to borrow , For all I haue , is nothing else but sorrow . No my sweet Nell , thou took'st not all away , Though thou went'st hence , here still thy woes doe stay , Though from thy husband thou wert forst to goe , Those still remaine , they will not leaue me so ; No eye bewailes my ill , moanes my distresse , Our greefe is more , but yet our debt is lesse ; vve owe no teares , no mourning daies are kept ; For those that yet for vs haue neuer wept ; vve hold no obijts , no sad exequies Vpon the death-daies of vnweeping eyes . Alas good Nell , what should thy patience moue , T' vpbraid thy kind Lord , with a forraine loue ; Thou might'st haue bidd all former ils adue , Forgot the old , we haue such store of new . Did I omit thy loue to entertaine vvith mutuall griefe to answere griefe againe ? Or think'st thou I vnkindly did forbeare , To bandy woe for woe , and teare for teare ? Did I omit , or carelesly neglect , Those shewes of loue , that Ladies so respect ? In mournefull blacke , was I not seene to goe ? By outward shewes to tell my inward woe : Nor drerie words , were wasted in lament , Nor clowdy brow , bewraid my discontent , Is this the cause , if this be it , know then , One griefe conceal'd , more grieuous is then ten ? If in my breast those sorrowes sometimes were , And neuer vtter'd , still they must be there , And if thou know'st , they many were before , By time increasing , they must needs be more ; England to me , can challenge nothing lent , Let her cast vp , what is receiu'd , what spent , If I her owne , can she from blame be free , If she but proue , a stepdame vnto me ? That if I should , with that proud bastard striue , To plead my birth-right and prerogatiue ; If birth alow , I should not need to feare it , For then my true nobility should beare it ; If counsell ayde , that , Fraunce will tell ( I know ) vvhose townes lie wast before the English foe ; vvhen thrice we gaue the conquered French the foyle , At Agincourt , at Crauant , and Vernoyle , If faith auaile , these armes did Henry hold , To claime his crowne , yet scarcely nine month 's old . If Countries care haue leaue to speake for me , Gray haires in youth , my witnes then may be , If peoples tongues giue splendor to my fame , They adde a title to Duke Humfreys name ; If toyle at home , French treason , English hate , Shall tell my skill in managing the state , If forraine trauell my successe may try , In Flaunders , Almaine , Boheme , Burgundy , That Robe of Rome , proud Beuford now doth weare , In euery place such sway should neuer beare . The crosier staffe , in his imperious hand , To be the Scepter that controules the land ; That home to England , despensations drawes , vvhich are of power to abrogate our lawes , That for those sums , the wealthy Church should pay , Vpon the needie Commentie to lay , His ghostly counsels onely doe aduise , The meanes how Langleys progenie may rise , Pathing young Henries vnaduised waies , A Duke of Yorke from Cambridge house to raise , vvhich after may our title vndermine , Grafted since Edward , in Gaunts famous line Vs of succession falfely to depriue , vvhich they from Clarence , fainedly deriue , Knowing the will old Cambridge euer bore , To catch the wreath that famous Henrie wore . VVith Gray , and Scroope , when first he laid the plot From vs , and ours , the garland to haue got , As from the march-borne Mortimer to raigne , vvhose title Glendour stoutly did maintaine , vvhen the proud Percies , haughtie March and he , Had shar'd the Land by equall parts in three . His Priesthood now sterne Mowbray doth restore , To stir the fire that kindled was before ; Against the Yorkists shall their claime aduaunce , To steele the poynt of Norfolks sturdie Launce , Vpon the brest of Herfords issue bent , In iust reuenge of auncient banishment . He doth aduise to let our prisoner goe , And doth enlarge the faithlesse Scottish foe , Giuing our heires in marriage , that their dowres May bring inuasion vpon vs and ours . Ambitious Suffolke so the helme doth guide , vvith Beufords damned policies supplide He and the Queene in counsell still confer , How to raise him who hath aduanced her ; But my deare hart , how vainely do I dreame , And flie from thee , whose sorrowes are my theam● My loue to thee , and England thus deuided , vvhich the most part , how hard to be decided , Or thee , or that , to whether I am loth , So neere are you , so deere vnto me both , Twixt that and thee , for equall loue I finde , England ingratefull , and my Elnor kinde . But though my Country , iustly I reproue , For Countries sake , vnkinde vnto my loue , Yet is thy Humfrey to his Elnor , now As when fresh beautie triumph'd on thy brow , As when thy graces I admired most , Or of thy fauours might the frankli'st boast ; Those beauties were so infinite before , That in abundance I was onely poore , Or which though time hath taken some againe , I aske no more but what doth yet remaine , Be patient gentle hart , in thy distresse , Thou art a Princesse , not a whit the lesse . VVhilst in these breasts we beare about this life , I am thy husband , and thou art my wife ; Cast not thine eye on such as mounted be , But looke on those cast downe as low as we ; For some of them which proudly pearch so hie , Ere long shall come as low as thou or I. They weepe for ioy , and let vs laugh in woe , vve shall exchange when heauen will haue it so . VVe mourne , and they in after time may mourne , vvoe past , may once laugh present woe to scorne , And worse then hath beene , we can ne●er ●ast , vvorse cannot come , then is already past . In all extreames , the onely depth of ill , Is that which comforts the afflicted still ; Ah would to God thou would'st thy grie●●s denie , And on my backe let all the burthen lie . Or if thou canst resigne , make thine mine owne , Both in one carridge to be vndergone , Till we againe our former hopes recouer , And prosperous times , blow these misfortunes ouer , For in the thought of those forepassed yeeres , Some new resemblance of old ioy appeares . Mutuall our care , so mutuall be our loue , That our affliction neuer can remoue , So rest in peace , where peace hath hope to liue , vvishing thee more , then I my selfe can giue . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . At Agincourt , at Crauant , and Vernoyle , THe three famous battels , fought by the English men in Fraunce : Agincourt by Henry the fift , against the whole power of Fraunce , Grauant fought by Mountacute , Earle of Salisburie , and the Duke of Burgoyne , against the Dolphine of Fraunce , & William Stuart , Constable of Scotland : Vernoyle , fought by Iohn Duke of Bedford , against the Duke of Alanson , and with him most of the Nobilitie of Fraunce , Duke Humfry an especiall Counsellour in all these expeditions . In Flaunders , Almaine , Boheme , Burgundie . Heere remembring the auncient amitie which in his Embassics he concluded betwixt the King of England and Sigismond Emperour of Almaine , drawing the Duke of Burgoyne into the same league , gyuing himselfe as an hostage for the Duke of Saint Omers , while the Duke came to Calice to confirme the league . With his many othe● imployments to forraine kingdoms . That crosier staffe in his imperious hand . Henry Beuford , Cardinall of Winchester , that proude and haughty Prelate , receiued his Cardinals ha●te at Calice by the Popes Legate , which dignitie , Henry the fift his nephewe , forbad him to take vpon him , knowing his haughtie and malicious spirit vnfit for that robe and calling . The meanes how Langleys progenie may rise . As willing to shew the house of Cambridge to bee descended of Edmund Langley Duke of York , a yonger brother to Iohn of Gaunt , his Grandfather ( as much as in him lay ) to smother the title that the Yorkists made to the crowne ( from L●onell of Clarence , Gaunts ●lder brother ) by the daughter of Mortimer . His priesthood now ; sterne Mowbray doth restore . Noting the ancient grudge betweene the house of Lancaster and Norfolke , euer since Mowbray Duke of Norfolke was banished for the accusation of Henry Duke of Herford , ( after the King of England Father to Duke Humfry , ) which accusation he came as a Combatant , to haue made good in the Lists at Couentry . And giues our heiresin marriage that their dowers . Iames Stuart , King of Scots , hauing beene long prisoner in England , was released , and tooke to wife the daughter of Iohn Duke of Sommerset , sister to Iohn Duke of Somerset , nee●e to the Cardinall and the Duke of Excester , and Cosin germaine remou'd to the king , this King broke the oath he had taken , and became after a great enemie to England . FINIS . To my honoured Mistres , Mistres Elizabeth Tanfelde , the sole daughter and heyre of that famous and learned Lawyer , Lawrence Tanfelde Esquire . FAire and vertuous Mistres , since first it was my good fortune to be a witnes of the many rare perfections wherewith nature and education ●aue adorned you , I haue been forced since that time to attribute more admiration to your sexe , then euer Petrarch could before perswade mee to by the prayses of his Laura . Sweet is the Fr●●ch tongue , more sweet the Italian , but most sweet are they both if spoken by your admired selfe . If poesie were praiselesse , your vertues alone were a subiect sufficient to make it esteemed , though among the barbarous Getes : by how much the more your tender yeres giue scarcely warrant for your more then woman-like wisedome , by so much is your iudgment and reading the more to be wondred at . The Graces shall haue one more Sister by your selfe , and England to herselfe shall adde one Muse more to the Muses . I rest the humble deuoted seruaunt , to my deere and modest Mistresse , to whom I wish the happiest fortunes I can deuise . Michaell Drayton . William de la Pole , Duke of Suffolke , to Queene Margaret . ¶ The Argument . VVilliam de la Pole , first Marques , and after created Duke of Suffolke , beeing sent into Fraunce by King Henry the sixt , concludeth a marriage betweene the King his Maister , and Margaret , daughter to Rayner Duke of Aniou ; who onely ●ad the title of the King of Cicily and Ierusalem . This marriage beeing made contrare to the lyking of the Lordes and Counsell of the Realme ( by reason of the yeelding vp Aniou and Maine into the Dukes hands , which shortly after proued the losse of all Aquitaine , ) they euer after continually hated the Duke , and after ( by meanes of the Commons ) banished him at the parlement at Berry ; where after he had the iudgment of his exile , beeing then ready to depart , hee writeth backe to the Queene this Epistle . IN my disgrace ( deere Queene ) rest thy content , And Margarets health from Suffolkes banishment ; Not one day seemes fiue yeeres exile to mee , But that so soone I must depart from thee ; VVhere thou not present , it is euer night , All be exil'd that liue not in thy sight . Those Sauages which worship the suns rise , vvould hate theyr God , if they beheld thine eyes , The worlds great light , might'st thou be seene abroad , vvould at our noone-●tead euer make aboade ; And make the poore Antipodes to mourne , Fearing least he would neuer more returne . VVer 't not for thee , it were my great'st exile To liue within this Sea-inuirond I le . Poles courage brookes not limmitting in bands , But that ( great Queene ) thy soueraignty commands● Our Falcons kinde cannot the cage indure , Nor buzzard-like doth stoope to euery lure ; Theyr mounting broode in open ayre doth roue , Nor will with Crowes be coop'd within a groue ; VVe all doe breath vpon this earthly ball , Likewise one heauen encompasseth vs all , No banishment can be to him assign'd , vvho doth retaine a true resolued minde . Man in himselfe , a little world doth beare , His soule the Monarch euer ruling there , vvhere euer then his body doth remaine , He is a King that in himselfe doth raigne , And neuer feareth Fortunes hot'st alarmes , That beares against her , Patience for his Armes . This was the meane proude VVarwicke did inuent To my disgrace at Leister parlement , That onely my base yeelding vp of Maine , Should be the losse of fertile Aquitaine , vvith the base vulgar sort to win him fame , To be the heire of good Duke Humfreys name ; And so by treason spotting my pure blood , Make this a meane to raise the Neuels brood . VVith Salisbury his vile ambitious Syer , In Yorkes sterne brest , kindling long hidden fyer , By Clarence title working to supplant , The Eagle ayrie of great Iohn of Gaunt . And to this end did my exile conclude , Thereby to please the rascall multitude ; Vrg'd by these enuious Lords to spend theyr breath , Calling reuenge on the Protectors death , That since the old decrepit Duke is dead , By me of force he must be murthered . If they would know who rob'd him of his life , Let them call home Dame Ellinor his wife , vvho with a Taper walked in a sheet , To light her shame at no one through London street ; And let her bring her Negromantick booke , That foule ●ag Iordane , Hun , and Bullenbrooke , And let them call the spirits from hell againe , To know how Humfrey died , and who shall raigne . For twenty yeeres and haue I seru'd in Fraunce , Against great Charles , and bastard Orleance ? And seene the slaughter of a world of men , Victorious now , and conquered agen ; And haue I seene Vernoylas batfull fields . Strew'd with ten thousand Helmes , ten thousand● shields , VVhere famous Bedford did our fortune try , Or Fraunce or England for the victory ? The sad inuesting of so many Townes , Scor'd on my brest in honourable wounds ; vvhen Mountacute and Talbot of such name , Vnder my Ensigne , both first won theyr fame ; In heate and cold all fortunes haue indur'd , To rouze the French , within their walls immur'd ? Through all my life , these perrils haue I past , And now to feare a banishment at last ? Thou know'st how I ( thy beauty to aduance , ) For thee refusd the infant Queene of Fraunce , Brake the contract Duke Humfrey first did make Twixt Henry , and the Princesse Arminacke ; Onely ( sweet Queene ) thy presence I might gaine , I gaue Duke Rayner , Aniou , Mauns , and Maine , Thy peerelesse beautie for a dower to bring , To counterpoize the wealth of Englands King ; And from Aumerle with-drew my warlike powers , And came my selfe in person first to Towers , Th' Embassadors for truce to entertaine , From Belgia , Denmarke , Hungarie , and Spayne , And telling Henry of thy beauties story , I taught my tongue a Louers oratory , As the report it selfe did so indite , And make it rauish teares with such delight ; And when my speech did cease ( as telling all ) My lookes shew'd more , that was Angelicall . And when I breath'd againe , and paused next , I left mine eyes to comment on the text ; Then comming of thy modestie to tell , In musicks numbers my voyce rose and fell : And when I came to paint thy glorious stile , My speech in greater caden●es to file , By true descent to weare the Diadem , Of Naples , Cicils , and Ierusalem . And from the Gods thou didst deriue thy birth , If heauenly kinde could ioyne with broode of earth ; Gracing each title that I did recite , vvith some mellifluous pleasing Epithete , Nor left him not till he for loue was sicke , Beholding thee in my sweet Rhetoricke . A fifteenes taxe in Fraunce I freely spent In triumphs , at thy nuptiall Tournament ; And solemniz'd thy marriage in a gowne , Valu'd at more then was thy fathers Crowne ; And onely striuing how to honour thee , Gaue to my King , what thy loue gaue to mee . Iudge if his kindnes haue not power to moue , vvho for his loues● sake gaue away his loue . Had he which once the prize to Greece did bring , ( Of whom old Poets long agoe did sing ) Seene thee for England but imbarqu'd at Deepe , vvould ouer-boord haue cast his golden sheepe , As too vnworthy ballace to be thought , To pester roome , with such perfection fraught . The briny seas which saw the ship enfold thee , vvould vaute vp to the hatches to behold thee , And falling backe , themselues in thronging smother , Breaking for griefe , enuying one another ; vvhen the proud Barke , for ioy thy steps to feele , Scorn'd the salt waues should kisse her furrowing keele , And trick'd in all her flags , her selfe she braues , Capring for ioy vpon the siluer waues ; vvhen like a Bull , from the Phenician strand , Ioue with Europa , tripping from the land , Vpon the bosome of the maine doth scud , And with his swannish breast cleauing the floud , Tow'rd the faire fields , vpon the other side , Beareth Agenors ioy , Phenicias pride . All heauenly beauties , ioyne themselues in one , To shew their glory in thine eye alone ; VVhich when it turneth that celestiall ball , A thousand sweet starres rise , a thousand fall . VVho iustly saith , mine banishment to bee , vvhen onely Fraunce for my recourse is free ? To view the plaines where I haue seene so oft , Englands victorious Engines raisd aloft ; vvhen this shall be my comfort in my way , To see the place where I may boldly say , Heere mightie Bedford forth the vaward led , Heere Talbot charg'd , and heere the Frenchmen fled Heere with our Archers valiant Scales did lie . Heere stood the Tents of famous VVilloughbie ; Heere Mountacute rang'd his vnconquered band , Heere forth we march'd , and heere we made a stand . VVhat should we stand to mourne and grieue all day , For that which time doth easily take away : VVhat fortune hurts , let patience onely heale , No wisedome with extremities to deale ; To know our selues to come of humane birth , These sad afflictions crosse vs heere on earth ; A taxe imposd by heauens eternall law , To keepe our rude rebellious will in awe . In vaine we prise that at so deere a rate vvhose best assurance is a fickle state , And needlesse we examine our intent , vvhen with preuention , we cannot preuent ; vvhen we our selues fore-seeing cannot shun , That which before , with destinie doth run . Henry hath power , and may my life depose , Mine honour mine , that none hath power to lose , Then be as cheerefull , ( beautious royall Queene ) As in the Court of Fraunce we erst haue beene ; As when arriu'd in Porchesters faire roade , ( vvhere , for our comming Henry made aboad ) vvhen in mine armes I brought thee safe to land ; And gaue my lou● , to Henries royal hand ; The happy houres , we passed with the King , At faire South-hampton , long in banquetting , vvith such content as lodg'd in Henries brest , vvhen he to London brought thee from the VVest ; Through golden Cheape , when he in pompe did ride , To VVestminster , to entertaine his Bride . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Our Faeulcons kinde cannot the Cage indure . HE alludes in these verses to the Faulcon , which was the ancient deuice of the Poles , comparing the greatnes and hautines of his spirit , to the nature of this bird . This was the meane , proud Warwick● did inuent , To my disgrace , &c. The Commons , at this Parliament , through Warwick● meanes accused Suffolk of treason , and vrged the accusation so vehemently that the king was forced to exile him for fiue yeares . That onely my base yeelding vp of Maine , Should be the losse of fertile Aquitaine . The Duke of Suffolke being sent into France to conclude a peace , chose Duke Rainers daughter , the Ladie Margaret , whom he espoused for Henry the sixt , deliuering for her to her Father , the Countries of Aniou and Maine , and the Citie of Mauns . Wherevpon the Earle of Arminach ( whose daughter was before promised to the King ) seeing himselfe to be deluded , caused all the Englishmen to be expulsed Aquitaine , Gascoyne , and Guyen . With the base vulgar sort to win him fame , To be the heire of good Duke Humfreys name . This Richard that was called the great Earle of Warwicke , when Duke Humfrey was dead , grew into exceeding great fauour with the Commons . With Salisbury , his vile ambitious Sire , In Yorks sterne breast , kindling long hidden fire , By Clarence title , working to supplant , The Eagle Ayrie of great Iohn of Gaunt . Richard Plantaginet , Duke of Yorke , in the time of Henry the sixt , claimed the Crowne , ( being assisted by this Richard Neuell Earle of Salisburie , and father to the great Earle of Warwicke , who fauoured exceedingly the house of Yorke ) in open Parliament , as heire to Lionell Duke of Clarence , the third Sonne of Edward the third , making his title by Anne his Mother , wife to Richard Earle of Cambridge , Sonne to Edmund of Langley , Duke of Yorke ; which Anne was daughter to Roger Mortimer Earle of March , which Roger , was sonne and heire to Edmund Mortimer that married the Lady Phillip , daughter and heire to Lionell Duke of Clarence , the third sonne of King Edward , to whom the Crowne after Richard the seconds death , lineally descended he dying without issue . And not to the heires of the Duke of Lancaster , that was younger brother to the Duke of Clarence . Hall. cap. 1. Tit. Yor. & Lanc. Vrg'd by these enuious Lords to spend their breath , Calling reuenge on the Protectors death . Humfrey Duke of Glocester , and Lord Protector in the 25. yeere of Henry the sixt by the meanes of the Queene , and the Duke of Suffolke was arrested by the Lord Beumond at the Parliament holden at Berrie , and the same night after murthered in his bed . If they would know who robd him , &c. To this verse , To know how Humfrey died , and who shall raigne . In these verses he iestes at the Protectors wife , who ( being accused and conuicted of treason , because with Iohn Hun a Priest , Roger Bullenbrooke a Negromancer , and Margerie Iordane , called the Witch of Eye , shee had consulted by sorc●rie to kill the King ) was adiudged to perpetuall prison in the I le of Man , & to do penance openly in three publique places in London . For twentie yeeres and haue I seru'd in Fraunce , In the sixt yeere of Henry the sixt , the Duke of Bedford being deceased then Lieuetenant generell , and Regent of Fraunce ; this Duke of Suffolke , was promoted to that dignitie , hauing the Lord Talbot , Lord Scales , and the Lord Mountacute to assist him . Against great Charles , and bastard Orleance . This was Charles the seauenth , that after the death of Henry the fifth obtained the crowne of Fraunce , and recouered againe much of that his father had lost . Bastard Orleance , was sonne to the Duke of Orleance , begotten of the Lord Cawnies wife , preferred highly to many notable offices , because he being a most valiant Captaine , was continuall enemie to the Englishmen , daily infesting them with diuers incursions . And haue I seene Vernoyla's batfull fields , Vernoyle is that noted place in Fraunce , where the great battell was fought in the beginning of Henry the sixt his raigne , where the most of the French Cheualry were ouercome by the Duke of Bedford . And from Aumerle with-drew my warlike powers , Aumerle is that strong defenced towne in Fraunce , which the Duke of Suffolke got after 24. great assaults giuen vnto it . And came my selfe in person first to Towers Th'Embassadours for tru●e to entertaine , From Belgia , Denmarke , Hungary and Spaine . Towers is a Citie in Fraunce , built by Brutus as he came into Brittaine , where , in the twentie and one yeere of the raigne of Henry the sixt , was appointed a great diet to be kept , whether came the Embassadours of the Empire , Spaine , Hungary , and Denmarke , to intreat for a perpetuall peace , to be made betweene the two Kings of England and France . By true descent to weare the Diadem , Of Naples , Cicile , and Ierusalem . Rayner Duke of Aniou , Father to Queene Margaret , called himselfe King of Naples , Cicily , and Ierusalem , hauing the title alone of King of those Countries . A fifteenes taxe in Fraunce I freely spent , The Duke of Suffolke , after the marriage concluded twixt King Henry and Margarit , daughter to Duke Rayner , asked in open Parliament a whole fifteenth to fetch her into England . Seene thee for England but imbaqu'd at Deepe . Deepe is a Towne in Fraunce , bordering vpon the Sea , where the Duke of Suffolk with Queene Margaret , tooke ship for England . As when arriu'd in Porchesters faire Roadel Porchester , a Hauen Towne in the South-west part of England , where the King tarried , expecting the Queenes arriuall , whom from thence he conuayed to South-hampton . Queene Margaret to William de la Pole , Duke of Suffolke . WHat newes ( sweet Pole ) look'st thou my lines should tell , But like the tolling of the dolefull bell ? Bidding the deaths-man to prepare the graue , Expect from me no other newes to haue , My brest , which once was mirths imperiall throne , A vast and desart wildernes is growne ; Like that cold Region , from the world remote , On whose breeme seas , the Icie mountaines flote vvhere those poore creatures banish'd from the light , Doe liue imprison'd in continuall night . No ioy presents my soules eternall eyes , But diuination of sad tragedies , And care takes vp her solitarie In , vvhere youth and ioy , their Court did once begin . As in September , when our yeare resignes , The glorious Sunne vnto the watrie signes , vvhich through the clouds lookes on the earth in scorne ; The little bird , yet to salute the morne , Vpon the naked branches sets her foote , The leaues now lying on the mossie roote ; And there a silly chirripping doth keepe , As though she faine would sing , yet faine would weepe , Praysing faire Sommer , that too soone is gone , Or sad for VVinter too fast comming on . In this strange plight I mourne for thy depart , Because that weeping cannot ease my hart . Now to our ayde , who stirs the neighbouring Kings ? Or who from Fraunce a puissant Armie brings ? VVho moues the Norman to abet our war ? Or stirs vp Burgoyne , to ayde Lancaster ? VVho in the North our lawfull claime commends , To win vs credite with our valiant friends ? To whom shall I my secret griefe impart ? vvhose breast I made the closet of my hart . The ancient Heroes fame thou didst reuiue , And didst from them thy memory deriue ; Nature by thee , both gaue and taketh all , Alone in Pole shee was too prodigall ; Of so diuine and rich a temper wrought , As heauen for him , perfections deepe had sought ; VVell knew King Henry what he pleaded for , vvhen he chose thee to be his Orator ; vvhose Angell-eye , by powrefull influence , Doth vtter more then humaine eloquence , That when Ioue would his youthfull sports haue tride , But in thy shape , himselfe would neuer hide ; VVhich in his loue had beene of greater power , Then was his nimph , his flame , his swan , his shower . To that allegiance Yorke was bound by oath , To Henries heires , and safety of vs both , No longer now he meanes record shal beare it , He will dispence with heauen , and will vnsweare it . He that 's in all the worlds blacke sinnes forlorne , Is carelesse now how oft he be forsworne ; And now of late his title hath set downe , By which he makes his claime vnto the crowne . And now I heare , his hatefull Dutches chats , And rips vp their descent vnto her brats , And blesseth them as Englands lawfull heires , And tels them that our Diadem is theirs . And if such hap her Goddesse fortune bring , If three sonnes faile , she 'le make the fourth a King. He that 's so like his Dam , her youngest Dicke , That foule , ill-fauoured , crook-back'd stigmaticke , That like a carcas stolne out of a Tombe ; Came the wrong way out of his mothers wombe ; VVith teeth in 's head , his passage to haue torne , As though begot an age ere he was borne . VVho now will curbe proud Yorke when he shall rise , Or Armes our right against his enterprize ? To crop that bastard weede which dayly growes To ouer-shadow our vermilian Rose ? Or who will muzzell that vnrulie Beare , vvhose presence strikes our peoples harts with feare ? VVhilst on his knees this wretched King is downe , To saue them labour , reaching at his Crowne , vvhere like a mounting Cedar he should beare , His plumed top , aloft into the ayre ; And let these shrubs sit vnderneath his shrowdes , vvhilst in his armes he doth embrace the clowdes , O that he should his Fathers right inherit , Yet be an alien to that mightie spirit , How were those powers disperc'd , or whether gone , Should sympathize in generation , Or what apposed influence had force , To abuse kinde , and alter natures course ? All other creatures follow after kinde , But man alone doth not beget the minde . My Daysie-flower , which erst perfum'd the ayre , vvhich for my fauours Princes once did weare , Now in the dust lyes troden on the ground , And with Yorkes garlands euery one is crownd . VVhen now his rising waytes on our decline , And in our setting he begins to shine , Now in the skies that dreadfull Comet waues , And who be starres but VVarwicks bearded staues ? And all those knees which bended once so low , Grow stiffe , as though they had forgot to bow ; And none like them , pursue me vvith despite , vvhich most haue cryde , God saue Queene Margarite , VVhen fame shall brute thy banishment abrode , The Yorkish faction then will lay on loade ; And when it comes once to our VVesterne coast , O how that hag Dame Elinor will boast , And labour straight , by all the meanes she can , To be call'd home , out of the I le of Man , To which I know great VVarwicke will consent , To haue it done by act of Parlement , That to my teeth my birth shee may defie , Slaundring Duke Rayner with base beggerie ; The onely way she could deuise to grieue me , vvanting sweet Suffolke , which should most relieue me . And from that stock doth sprout another bloome , A Kentish Rebell , a base vpstart groome ; And this is hee the vvhite-rose must prefer , By Clarence daughter , match'd with Mortimer , Thus by Yorkes meanes , this rascall pesant Cade , Must in all hast , Plantaginet be made ; Thus that ambitious Duke sets all on worke To sound what friends affect the claime of Yorke , VVhilst he abroad doth practise to commaund , And makes vs weake by strengthning Ireland ; More his owne power still seeking to increase , Then for King Henries good , or Englands peace . Great VVinchester vntimely is deceas'd , That more and more my woes should be encreas'd . Beuford , whose shoulders proudly bare vp all The Churches prop , that famous Cardinall , The Commons ( bent to mischiefe ) neuer let , vvith Fraunce t' vpbraid that valiant Sommerset , Rayling in tumults on his souldiours losse , Thus all goes backward , crosse comes after crosse , And now of late , Duke Humfreys old alies , vvith banish'd Elnors base accomplices , Attending theyr reuenge , grow wondrous crouse , And threaten death and vengeance to our house ; And I alone the wofull remnant am , ● endure these stormes with wofull Buckingham . I pray thee Pole haue care how thou doost passe , Neuer the Sea yet halfe so dangerous was ; And one fore-told by water thou should'st die , ( Ah foule befall that foule tongues prophecie ) And euery night am troubled in my dreames , That I doe see thee tost in dangerous streames ; And oft-times shipwrackt , cast vpon the land , And lying breathlesse on the queachy sand ; And oft in visions see thee in the night , vvhere thou at Sea maintain'st a dangerous sight ; And with thy proued Target and thy sword , Beat'st backe the Pyrate which vvould come abord . Yet be not angry that I warne thee thus , The truest loue is most suspitious , Sorrow doth vtter what vs still doth grieue , But hope forbids vs sorrow to belieue ; And in my counsell yet this comfort is , It cannot hurt , although I thinke amisse ; Then liue in hope , in tryumph to returne , vvhen cleerer dayes shall leaue in clowdes to mourne ; But so hath sorrow girt my soule about , That , that word hope ( me thinks ) comes slowly out ; The reason is , I know it heere would rest , vvhere it would still behold thee in my brest . Farewell sweete Pole , faine more I would indite , But that my teares doe blot as I doe write . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Or brings in Burgoyne to ayde Lancaster . PHillip Duke of Burgoyne and his sonne , were alwayes great fauorites of the house of Lancaster , howbeit they often dissembled both with Lancaster and Yorke . Who in the North our lawfull claime commends To win vs credite with our valiant friends . The chiefe Lords of the North-parts , in the time of Henry the 6. withstoode the Duke of Yorke at his rising● giuing him two great ouerthrowes . To that allegeance Yorke was bound by oath To Henries heyres , and safetie of vs both , No longer now he meanes records shall beare it , He will dispence with heauen , and wil vnsweare it . The duke of Yorke , at the death of Henry the fift , & at this kings coronation tooke his oath to be true subiect to him , and his heyres for euer ; but afterward dispensing therewith , claymed the crowne as his rightfull and proper inhearitance . If three sonnes faile , shee 'le make the fourth a King. The duke of Yorke had foure sonnes , Edward Earle of March , that afterward was duke of Yorke , and king of England , when he had deposed Henry the sixt , and Edmond Earle of Rutland , slaine by the lord Clifford at the battell at Wakefield ; & George duke of Clarence that was murthered in the Tower : and Richard duke of Glocester , vvho was ( after he had murthered his brothers sonnes ) King by the name of Richard the third . 〈◊〉 that 's so like his Dam , her youngest Dicke , That foule ●fauoured crookback'd Stigmaticke , &c. Till this verse , As though begot an age , &c. This Richard , ( whom ironically she here calls Dicke , ) that by treason after his Nephewes murthered , obtained the crowne , was a man low of stature , crookeback'd , the left shoulder much higher then the right , & of a very crabbed & sower countenaunce : his mother could not be deliuered of him , he was borne toothed , & with his feete forward , contrarie to the course of nature . To ouershadow our vermilian Rose , The redde Rose was the badge of the house of Lancaster , and the white Rose of Yorke , which by the marriage of Henry the seauenth , with Elizabeth indubitate heyre of the house of Yorke , was happilie vnited . Or who will muzzell that vnrulie beare . The Earle of Warwicke , the setter vp and puller downe of Kings , gaue for his Armes the white Beare rampant , & the ragged staffe . My Daysie flower which erst perfum'd the ayre , Which for my ●auour Pri●●●es once did were &c. The Daysie in French is called Margaret , which was Queene Margarets badge , where-withall the Nobilitie and chiualrie of the Lande at the first arriuall were so delighted , that they wore it in theyr Hats in token of honour . And who be starres but Warwicks bearded slaues . The ragged or bearded staffe was a part of the Armes belonging to the Earledome of Warwick . Slaundring Duke Rayner with base baggary . Rayner Duke of Aniou , called himselfe King of Naples , Cicile , and Ierusalem , hauing neither inhearitance nor tribute from those parts , & was not able at the marriage of the Queene , of his owne charges to send her into England though he gaue no dower with her : which by the Dutches of Glocester was often in disgrace cast in her teeth . A Kentish Rebell , a base vpstart Groome . This was Iacke Cade , which caused the Kentish-men to rebell in the 28. yeere of Henry the sixth . And this is he the white Rose must prefer , By Clarence daughter match'd to Mortimer . This Iacke Cade instructed by the Duke of Yorke , pretended to be descended from Mortimer which married Lady Phillip , daughter to the Duke of Clarence . And makes vs weake by strengthning Ireland . The Duke of Yorke being made Deputy of Ireland , first there beganne to practise his long pretended purpose , strengthning himselfe by all meanes possible that he might at his returne into England by open warre , claime that which so long he had priuily gone about to obtaine . Great Winchester vntimely is deceas'd , Henry Beuford , Bishop and Cardinall of Winchester , sonne to Iohn of Gaunt , begot in his age , was a proude & ambitious Prelate , fauouring mightily the Queene & the Duke of Suffolke , continually heaping vp innumerable treasure , in hope to haue beene Pope , as himselfe on his death bed confessed . With Fraunce t' vpbrayd the valiant Somerset . Edmund Duke of Somerset , in the 24. of Henry the sixt , was made Regent of Fraunce , and sent into Normandie to defend the English territories against the French inuasions , but in short time hee lost all that King Henry the fifth won , for which cause the Nobles and the Commons euer after hated him . T' endure these stormes with wofull Buckingham . Humfry duke of Buckingham , was a great fauorite of the Queen● Faction , in the time of Henry the sixt . And one fore-told by water thou should'st die . The Witch of Eye receiued aunswer by her spirit , that the duke of Suffolke should take heede of water : which the Queene forwarnes him of , as remembring the Witches prophecie , which afterward came to passe . FINIS . To the Right Worshipfull Sir Thomas Munson , Knight . SIR , amongst many which most deseruedly loue you , though ● the least , yet am loth to be the last , whose endeuours may make knowne howe highly they esteeme of your noble and kind disposition ; Let this Epistle Sir ( I beseech you ) which vnworthily weares the badge of your woorthy name , acknowledge my zeale with the rest , ( though much lesse deseruing ) which for your sake doe honour the house of the Mounsons . I know true generositie accepteth what is zealously offered , though not euer deseruingly excellent , yet for loue of the Art frō whence it receiueth resemblance . The light Phrigian harmony stirreth delight , as well as the melancholy Doricke moueth passion , both haue theyr motion in the spirit , as the liking of the soule moueth the affection . Your kinde acceptance of my labour● shall giue some life to my Muse , which yet ●ouers in the vncertainetie of the generall censure . Mich : Drayton . Edward the fourth to Shores wife . ¶ The Argument . This Mistres Shore , king Edward the fourths beautious paramour , was so called of her husband a Goldsmith , dwelling in Lombard streete . Edward the fourth , sonne to Richard Duke of Yorke , after hee had obtained the crowne by deposing Henry the sixth , ( which Henry was after murthered in the Tower by Richard Crookeback ) & after the battel fought at Barnet , where the famous Earle of VVarwicke was slaine , and that King Edward quietly possessed the crowne , hearing ( by report of many ) the rare and wonderfull beautie of the aforesaid Shores wife , commeth himselfe disguised to London to see her ; where after he had once beheld her , he was so surprised with her admirable beautie , as not long after hee robbed her husband of his deerest iewell ; but first by this Epistle he writeth vnto her . VNto the fayr'st that euer breath'd this ayre , From English Edward to that fairest faire ; Ah would to God thy title were no more , That no remembrance might remaine of Shore , To countermaund a Monarchs high desire , And bar mine eyes of what they most admire . O why should Fortune make the Citty proud , To giue that more then is the Court allow'd ? VVhere they like ( wretches ) hoard it vp to spare , And doe engrosse it , as they doe their ware . VVhen fame first blaz'd thy beauty heere in Court , Mine eares repulsd it , as a light report , But when mine eyes saw that mine eare had hard , They thought report too nigardly had spard ; And strooken dumbe with wonder , did but mutter , Conceiuing more then she had words to vtter . Then thinke of what thy husband is possest , vvhen I enuie that Shore should be so blest , vvhen much aboundance makes the needie mad , And hauing all , yet knowes not what is had ; Into fooles bosomes this good fortune creepes , And wealth comes in the whilst the miser sleepes . If now thy beauty be of such esteeme , vvhich all of so rare excellencie deeme , vvhat would it be , and prized at what rate , vvhere it adorned with a kingly state ? VVhich being now but in so meane a bed , Is like an vncut Diamond in led , Ere it be set in some high-prized ring , Or garnished with rich enamiling ; vve see the beauty of the stone is spilt , vvanting the gracious ornament of guilt . VVhen first attracted by thy heauenly eyes , I came to see thee , in a straunge disguise , Passing thy shop , thy husband calls me backe , Demaunding what rare iewell I did lacke ? I want ( thought I ) one that I dare not craue , And ( one I feare ) thou wilt not let me haue ; He cals for Caskets forth , and shewes me store , But yet I knew he had one iewell more ; And deadly curst him that he did dinie it , That I might not for loue or money buy it . O might I come a Diamond to buy , That had but such a lustre as thine eye . VVould not my treasure serue , my Crowne should go , If any iewell could be prized so ; An Agat , branched with thy blushing straines , A Saphire , but so azur'd , as thy vaines ; My kingly Scepter onely should redeeme it , At such a price if iudgement could esteeme it . How fond and sencelesse , be those strangers then , vvho bring in toyes to please the English men . I smile to thinke how fond th' Italians are , To iudge their artificiall gardens rare , vvhen London in thy cheeks can shew them heere , Roses and Lillies growing all the yeere ; The Portugall , that onely hopes to win , By bringing stones from farthest India in , vvhen happy Shore can bring them forth a gerle , vvhose lips be Rubies , and her teeth be pearle . How silly is the Polander and Dane , To bring vs Christall from the frozen maine ? VVhen thy cleare skins transparence doth surpasse . Their Christall , as the Diamond doth glasse . The foolish French , which brings in trash and toyes , To turne our women men , or gerles to boyes , vvhen with what tire thou doo'st thy selfe adorne , That for a fashion onely shall be worne ; vvhich though it were a garment but of haire , More rich then robe that euer Empresse ware . Me thinks thy husband takes his marke awry , To set his plate to sale when thou art by ; vvhen they which do thy Angell-locks behold , Like basest drosse doe but respect his gold ; And wish one haire before that massy heape , And but one locke before the wealth of Cheape ; And for no caus else , hold we gold so deare , But that it is so like vnto thy haire . And sure I thinke Shore cannot chuse but flout Such as would find the great Elixar out , And laugh to see the Alchimists , that choke Themselues with fumes , and wast their wealth in smoke . vvhen if thy hand but touch the grossest mold , It is conuerted to refined gold , vvhen theirs is chaffer'd at an easie rate , vvell knowne to all to be adulterate ; And is no more when it by thine is set , Then paltry Be●gle , or light-prized Iet . Let others weare persumes , for thee vnmeet , If there were none , thou could'st make all things sweet . Thou comfor'st sence , and yet all sence doo'st wast , To heare , to see , to smell , to feele , to tast ; Thou a rich ship , whose verie refuse ware , A romaticks , and precious odors are . If thou but please to walke into the Pawne , To buy thee Cambricke , Callico , or Lawne , If thou the whitenes of the same would'st proue , From thy more whiter hand plucke off thy gloue ; And those which by , as the beholders stand , vvill take thy hand for Lawne , Lawne for thy hand . A thousand eyes , clos'd vp by enuious night , Doe wish for day , but to enioy thy sight ; And when they once haue blest their eyes with thee , Scorne euery obiect else , what ere they see , So like a Goddesse beautie still controules , And hath such powerfull working in our soules . The Merchant which in traffique spends his life , Yet loues at home to haue daintie wife , The blunt-spoke Cynick , poring on his booke , Sometimes ( aside ) at beautie loues to looke . The Church-man , by whose teaching we are led , Allowes what keepes loue in the marriage bed ; The bloody Souldiour spent in Armes and broyles , vvith beautie yet content to share his spoyles ; The busie Lawyer wrangling in his pleas ; Findeth that beauty giues his labour ease ; The toyling trades-man , and the sweating Clowne , vvould haue his wench faire , though his bread be browne ; So much is beauty pleasing vnto all , To Prince and peasant like in generall ; Nor neuer yet did any man despise it , Except too deere , and that he could not prize it , Vnlearn'd is learning , artlesse be all Arts , If not imploy'd to praise thy seuerall parts ; Poore plodding Schoolemen , they are far too low , vvhich by probations , rules , and axiom's goe , He must be still familiar with the skies , vvhich notes the reuolutions of thine eyes ; And by that skill which measures sea and land , See beauties all , thy wast , thy foote , thy hand , vvhere he may find , the more that he doth view , Such rare delights as are both strange and new ; And other worlds of beauty more and more , vvhich neuer were discouered before ; And to thy rare proportion to apply , The lines and circles in Geometry , Vsing alone Arithmeticks strong ground , Numbring the vertues that in thee are found . And when these all haue done what they can doo , For thy perfections all to little too . VVhen from the East the dawne hath broken out , And gone to seeke thee all the world about , vvithin thy Chamber hath she fixt her light , vvhere but that place , the world hath all beene night ; Then is it fit that euery vulgar eye , Should see loue banquet in her maiestie ? VVe deeme those things our sight doth most frequent , To be but meane , although most excellent ; For strangers still the streets are swept and strowd , Few looke on such as daily come abroad ; Things much restrain'd , doth make vs much desire them , And beauties seldome seene , makes vs admire them . Nor is it fit a Citie shop should hide , The worlds delight , and natures onely pride , But in a Princes sumptuous gallery . Hung all with Tissue , flor'd with Tapestrie ; VVhere thou shalt sit , and from thy state shalt see , The tylts and tryumphs that are done for thee . Then know the difference ( if thou list to prooue ) Betwixt a vulgar , and a kingly loue ; And when thou findst , as now thou doubt'st the troth , Be thou thy selfe vnpartiall Iudge of both . VVhere harts be knit , what helps if not enioy ? Delayes breeds doubts , no cunning to be coy . VVhilst lazie Time his turne by tariance serues , Loue still growes sickly , and hope daily starues . Meane while receiue that warrant by these lines , vvhich princely rule and soueraintie resignes ; Till when , these papers by their Lords commaund , By me shall kisse thy sweet and dainty hand . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . THis Epistle of Edward to Shores wife , and of hers to him , being of vnlawfull affection , ministreth small occasion of historicall notes , for had he mentioned the many battels betwixt the Lancastrian faction and him , or other warlike daungers , it had beene more like to Plautus boasting Souldier then a kingly Courtier . Notwithstanding , it shall not be amisse to annexe a line or two . From English Edward to the fairest faire . Edward the fourth was by nature very chiualrous & very amorous , applying his sweet and amiable aspect to attaine his wanton appetite the rather , which was so well knowne to Lewes the French King , who at their enteruiew inuited him to Paris , that as Comineus reports , being taken at his word , he notwithstanding brake off the matter , fearing the Parisian Dames with their wittie conuersation , would detaine him longer then should be for his benefit , by which meanes Edward was disappointed of his iourney ; and albeit Princes whilst they liue haue nothing in them but what is admirable , yet wee need not mistrust the flattery of the Court in those times , for certaine it is that his shape was excellent , his haire drew neere to a black , making his faces fauor see me more delectable . Though the smalnes of his eyes full of a shin●ng moisture , as it tooke away some com●●nesse , so it argued much sharpnes of vnderstanding , and cruelty mingled therewith . And indeede George Buchanan ( that imperious Scot ) chargeth him & other Princes of those times , with affectation of tiranny , as Richard the third manifestly did . When first attracted by thy heauenly eyes , Edwards intemperate desires , with which he was wholy ouercome , how tragically they in his ofspring were punished , is vniuersally known . A mirrhor representing their ouersight , that rather leaue their children what to possesse , then what to imitate . How silly is the Polander and Dane , To bring vs Christall from the frozen maine . Alluding to their opinions , who imagine Christall to be a kind of Ice , and therefore it is likely , they who come from the frozen parts , should bring great store of that transparent stone , which is thought to be congealed with extreame cold . Whether Christall be Ice or some other liquor , I omit to dispute , yet by the examples of Amber and Corall there may be such an induration , for S●lmus out of Plinie mentioneth , that in the Northerly Region a yellow ielly is taken vp out of the Sea at low tides , which he calls Succinum , we Amber ; so likewise out of the Ligusticke deepe , a part of the Meridian Sea , a greenish stalke is gathered , which hardned in the ayre , becomes to be Corrall , eyther white or red . Amber notwithstanding is thought to drop out of trees , as appeares by Martials Epigram . Et latet , et lucet Phaethontide gutta , Vt videantur apis nectare clausa suo , Dignum tantorum pretium tulit ille laborum , Credibile est ipsam sic voluisse mor● . To behold a Bee inclosd in Electrum , is not so rare as that a boyes throat should be cut with the fall of an Icesicle , the which Epigram is excellent , the 18. lib. 4. He calls it Paethontis gutta , because of that fable which Ouid rehearseth , concerning the Heliades , or Phaetons sisters metamorphozed into those trees , whose gum is Amber , where flies alighting , are oftentimes tralucently imprisoned . The Epistle of Shores wife to King Edward the fourth . AS the weak child , that from the mothers wing , Is taught the Lutes delicious fingering , At euery strings soft touch , is mou'd with feare , Noting his maisters curious listning eare ; vvhose trembling hand , at euery straine bewraies , In what doubt he , his new set lesson plaies ; As this poore child , so sit I to indite , At euery word still quaking as I write . VVould I had led an humble shepheards life , Nor knowne the name of Shores admired wife , And liu'd with them in Country fields that range , Nor seen the goldē Cheap , nor glittering Change To stand a Comet gaz'd at in the skies , Subiect to all tongues , obiect to all eyes , Oft haue I heard my beauty praisd of many , But neuer yet so much admir'd of any ; A Princes Eagle-eye to finde out that , vvhich vulgar sights doe sildome wonder at , Makes me to thinke affection flatters sight , Or in the obiect some thing exquisite . To housed beauty , sildome stoop's report , Fame must attend on that which liues in Court. VVhat Swan of great Apollos brood doth sing To vulgar loue , in courtly Sonetting ? Or what immortall Poets sugred pen , Attends the glory of a Cittizen ? Oft haue I wondred what should blinde your eye , Or what so far seduced Maiestie , That hauing choyse of beauties so diuine , Amongst the most to choose this least of mine ? More glorious sunnes adorne faire Londons pride , Then all rich Englands continent beside ; VVho takes in hand to make account of this , May number Rumneys flowers , or Isis fish ; vvho doth frequent our Temples , walkes , and streets , Noting the sundry beauties that he meets , Thinks not that Nature left the wide world poore , And made this place the Chequer of her store ? As heauen and earth were lately fallne at iarrs , And growne to vying wonders , dropping starrs . That if but some one beautie should incite , Some sacred Muse , some rauisht spirit to write , Heere might he fetch that true Promethian fire , As after ages should his lines admire ; Gathering the honny from the choysest flowers , Scorning the wither'd weedes in Country bowers . Heere in this Garden ( onely ) springs the Rose , In euery common hedge the Bramble growes , Nor are wee so turn'd Neapolitan , That might incite some foule-mouth Mantuan , To all the worlde to lay out our defects , And haue iust cause to raile vpon our sexe ; To pranck old wrinckles vp in new attire , To alter natures course , proue time a lyer , Abusing fate , and heauens iust doome reuerse , On beauties graue to set a Crimson hearse , vvith a deceitfull foyle to lay a ground , To make a glasse to seeme a Diamond . Nor cannot without hazard of our Name , In fashion follow the Venetian Dame , Nor the fantastick French to imitate , Attir'd halfe Spanish , halfe Italionate ; Nor wast , not curle , body nor brow adorne , That is in Florence , or in Genoa borne . But with vaine boasts how witlesse fond am I , Thus to draw on mine owne indignitie ? And what though married when I was but young , Before I knew what did to loue belong , Yet he which now 's possessed of the roome , Cropt beauties flower when it was in the bloome , An● goes away enriched with the store , vvhilst others gleane , where he hath reapt before ; And he dares sweare that I am true and iust , And shall I then deceiue his honest trust ? Or what strange hope should make you to assaile , vvhere strongest battery neuer could preuaile ? Belike you thinke that I repulst the rest , To leaue a King the conquest of my brest , Or haue thus long preseru'd my selfe from all , A Monarch now should glory in my fall . Yet rather let me die the vildest death , Then liue to draw that sinne-polluted breath ; But our kinde harts , mens teares cannot abide , And we least angry oft , when most we chide ; Too well know men what our creation made vs , And nature too well taught them to inuade vs. They know but too well , how , what , when , and where , To write , to speake , to sue , and to forbeare , By signes , by sighes , by motions , and by teares , vvhen vowes should serue , when othes , when smiles , when prayers , vvhat one delight our humors most doth moue , Onely in that you make vs nourish loue . If any naturall blemish blot our face , You doe protest it giues our beautie grace , And what attire we most are vsd to weare , That of all other excellent'st you sweare . And if we walke , or sit , or stand , or lie , It must resemble some one Deitie , And what you know we take delight to heare , That are you euer sounding in our eare ; And yet so shamelesse when you tempt vs thus , To lay the fault on beauty , and on vs. Romes wanton Ouid did those rules impart , O that your nature should behelp'd with Art. VVho would haue thought , a King that cares to raigne , Inforc'd by loue , so Poet-like should faine ? To say that beautie , Times sterne rage to shun , In my cheekes ( Lillies ) hid her from the sun ; And when she meant to triumph in her May , Made that her East , and heere she broke her day , And swear'st that Sommer still is in my sight , And but where I am , all the world is night ; As though the fayr'st , ere since the world began , To me , a sun-burnt , base Egiptian ; But yet I know more then I meane to tell , ( O would to God you knew it not too well ) That women oft theyr most admirers raise , Though publiquely not flattering theyr owne prayse . Our churlish husbands , which our youth enioy'd , vvho with our dainties haue theyr stomacks cloyd , Doe loath our smooth hand with theyr lips to feele , T' enrich our fauours , by our beds to kneele ; At our commaund to waite , to send , to goe , As euery howre our amorous seruaunts doe ; vvhich makes a stolne kisse often we bestow , In earnest of a greater good we owe ; VVhen he all day torments vs with a frowne , Yet sports with Venus in a bed of Downe ; vvhose rude embracement , but too ill beseemes Her span-broade wast , her white and daintie limmes , And yet still preaching abstinence of meate , vvhen he himselfe , of euery dish will eate . Blame you our husbands then , if they denie Our publique walking , our loose libertie , If wi●h exception still they vs debar , The circuite of the publique Theater ; To heare the smooth-tongu'd Poets Syren vaine , Sporting in his lasciuious Comick scene ; Or the young wanton wits , when they applaude The slie perswasions of some subtile Baude , Or passionate Tragedian in his rage , Acting a loue-sicke passion on the stage ; vvhen though abroade restrayning vs to rome , They very hardly keepe vs safe at home , And oft are touch'd with feare and inward griefe , Knowing rich prizes soonest tempt a theefe . VVhat sports haue we , whereon our minds to set ? Our dog , our Parrat , or our Marmuzet ; Or once , a weeke to walke into the field ; Small is the pleasure that those toyes doe yeeld , But to this griefe , a medicine you apply , To cure restraint with that sweet libertie ; And soueraigntie , ( ô that bewitching thing ) Yet made more great , by promise of a King ; And more , that honour which doth most intice The holiest Nunne , and she that 's nere so nice . Thus still we striue , yet ouer-come at length , For men want mercy , & poore women strength : Yet graunt , that we could meaner men resist , when kings once come , they conquer as they list . Thou art the cause Shore pleaseth not my sight , That his embraces giue me no delight ; Thou art the cause I to my selfe an strange , Thy comming , is my full , thy set , my change . Long vvinter nights be minutes , if thou here , Short minuts if thou absent , be a yeere . And thus by strength thou art become my sate , And mak'st me loue , euen in the midst of hate . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Would I had led an humble Shepheards life , Nor knowne the name of Shores admired 〈◊〉 TWo or three Poems written by sundry men , 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 womans beautie ; whom that ornament of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 more particular glory , Sir Thomas Moore , very highly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 her beauty , she being aliue in his time , though 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Her stature was meane , her haire of a dark 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 full , her eye gra● , delicate harmony beeing betwixt each parts proportion , and each proportions colour , her body fat , white , & smooth , her countenaunce cheerefull , and like to her condition . That picture which I haue seene of hers , was such as she rose out of her bed in the morning , hauing nothing on but a rich mantle cast vnder one arme ouer her shoulder , and sitting in a chayre on which her naked arme did lie . What her fathers name was , or where she was borne is not certainly knowne ; but Shore a young man of right good person , wealth , and behauiour , abandoned her bed after the King had made her his Concubine . Richard the third causing her to do open penanc● in Paules Church-yarde , commaunded that no man should relieue her , which the tyrant did not so much for his hatred to sinne , but that by making his brothers life odious , he might couer his horrible trea●on the more cunningly . May number Rumneys flowers or Isis fish . Rumney is that famous Marsh in Kent , at whose side Rie a Hauen-towne dooth stand . Heereof the excellent English Antiquarie Maister Camden , and Maister Lambert in his preambulation do make mention , and Marishes are cōmonly called those low grounds , which abut vpon the sea , and from the Latine word are so denominated . Isis is here vsed for Thamesis by a Senecdochicall kind of speech or by a Poeticall libertie in vsing one for another , for it is said that Thamesis is compounded of Tame and Isis , making when they are mette , that renowned water running by London , a Citty much more renowned then that water : which beeing plentifull of fish , is the cause also why all things else are plentifull therein . Moreouer , I am perswaded that there is no Riuer in the world beholds more stately buildings on eyther side cleane through , then the Thames . Much is reported of the Graund Canale in Venice , for that the Fronts on eyther side are so gorgeous . That might intice some foule-mouth'd Mantuan , Mantuan a pastorall Poet in one of his Eglogs bitterly inucyeth against woman-kinde , some of the which by way of an Appendex , might be heere inserted , seeing the fantasticke & insolent humors of many of that sexe deserue much sharper phisick , were it not that they are growne wiser , then to amende , for such an idle Poets speech as Mantuan , yea , or for Euripides himselfe , or Senecas inflexible Hippolitus . The circuite of the publique Theater . Ouid , a most fit Authour for so dissolute a Sectarie , calls that place Chastities ship wracke , for though Shores wife wantonly pleade for libertie , which is the true humor of a Curtizan , yet much more is the prayse of modestie then of such libertie . Howbeit the Vestall Nunnes had seates assigned them in the Romaine Theater , whereby it should appeare , it was counted no impeachment to modestie ; though they offending therein were buried quicke : a sharpe lawe for them , who may say as Shores wife doth . When though abroad restrayning vs to rome , They very hardly keepe vs safe at home . FINIS . To the Right Worshipfull Sir Henry Goodere of Powlesworth Knight . SIR , this Poeme of mine , which I imparted to you , at my being with you at your lodging at Lōdon in May last , brought at length to perfection , ( emboldned by your wonted fauors ) I aduenture to make you Patron of . Thus Sir you see I haue aduentured to the world , with what like or dislike , I know not , if it please , ( which I much doubt of ) I pray you then be partaker of that which I shall esteeme not my least good ; if dislike , it shal lessen some part of my griefe , if it please you to allow but of my loue : howsoeuer , I pray you accept it as kindly as I offer it , which though without many protestations , yet ( I assure you ) with much desire of your honor . Thus vntil such time as I may in some more larger measure make knowne my loue to the happy & generous familie of the Gooderes , ( to which I confesse my selfe to be beholding to , for the most part of my education ) I wish you al happinesse . Mich : Drayton . Mary the French Queene , to Charles Brandon , Duke of Suffolke . The Argument . Mary , the daughter of that renowned Prince King Henry the seauenth being very young at her Fathers death , after by her brother King Henry the eyght , was giuen in marriage to Lewes King of Fraunce , beeing a man olde and decrepit ; This faire and beautifull Lady , long before had placed her affection on Charles Brandon , Duke of suffolke , a braue and couragious young Gentleman , and an especiall fauorite of the King her brother , and a man raised by him . King Lewes , the husband of this beautifull Queene , liued not long after he was married ; and Charles Brandon hauing commission from the King to bring her backe into England , but being delayed by some sinister meanes , the French Queene writeth this Epistle , to hasten the Duke forward on his intended voyage to Fraunce . SVch health from heauen my selfe may wish to mee , Such health from Fraunce , Queen Mary sends to thee , Brandon , how long mak'st thou excuse to stay , And know'st how ill we women brooke delay ? If one poore Channell thus can part vs two , Tell me ( vnkind ) what would an Ocean do ? Leander had an Hellespont to swim , Yet this from Hero could not hinder him ; His barke ( poore soule ) his breast , his armes , his oares : But thou a ship , to land thee on our shores ; And opposite to famous Kent doth lie , The pleasant fields of flowry Picardie , vvhere our faire Callice , walled in her sands , In kenning of the clifie Douer stands . Heere is no Beldame Nurse to pout or lower , vvhen wantoning , we reuell in my Tower ; Nor neede I top my Turret with a light , To guide thee to me , as thou swim'st by night ; Compar'd with me , wert thou but halfe so kind , Thy sighs should stuffe thy sailes , though wanting wind ; But thy breast is becalm'd , thy sighs be slacke , And mine too stiffe , and blow thy broad sailes backe . But thou wilt say , that I should blame the stood ; Because the wind so full against thee stood ; Nay blame it not , it did so roughly blow , For it did chide thee , for thou wast so slow : For it came not to keepe thee in the Bay , But came from me , to bid thee come away . But that thou vainely lett'st occasion slide , Thou might'st haue wafted hether with the tide . If when thou com'st , I knit mine angrie brow , Blame me not Brandon , thou hast broke thy vow ; Yet if I meant to frowne , I might be dombe , For this may make thee stand in doubt to come : Nay come sweet Charles , haue care thy ship to guide ; Come my sweet hart , in faith I will not chide . VVhen as my brother and his louely Queene In sad attire for my depart were seene , The vtmost date expired of my stay , vvhen I from Douer did depart away , Thou know'st what woe I suffered for thy sake , How oft I fain'd of thee my leaue to take ; God and thou know'st with what a heauie hart I tooke my farewell when I should depart ; And being ship'd , gaue signall with my hand , Vp to the Cliffe , where I did see thee stand , Nor could refraine in all the peoples view , But cried to thee , sweet Charles adiew , adiew . Looke how a little infant that hath lost , The things where-with it was delighted most , vveary with seeking , to some corner creepes , And there ( poore soule ) it sits it downe and weepes ; And when the Nurse would faine content the mind , Yet still it mournes for that it cannot find : Thus in my carefull Cabin did I lie , vvhen as the ship out of the Road did slie . Think'st thou my loue was faithfull vnto thee , vvhen young Castile to England su'd for mee ? Be judge thy selfe , if it were not of power , vvhen I refus'd an Empire for my dower . To Englands Court , when once report did bring● How thou in Fraunce didst reuell with the King , vvhen he in triumph of his victory , Vnder a rich imbrodered Canapy , Entred proud Tournay , which did trembling stand , To beg for mercy at his conquering hand ; To heare of his enderements , how I ioy'd ? But see , this calme was sodainly destroy'd , VVhen Charles of Castile there to banquet came , vvith him his sister that ambitious Dame , Sauoys proud Dutches , knowing how long she , By her loue sought to win my loue from me ; Fearing my absence might thy vowes acquite , To change thy Mary for a Margarite , vvhen in King Henries Tent of cloth of gold , Shee often did thee in her armes enfold ; vvhere you were feasted more deliciously , Then Cleopatra did Marke-Anthony , vvhere sports all day did entertaine your sight , And then in maskes you pass'd away the night ; But thou wilt say , t is proper vnto vs , That we by nature all are iealous . I must confesse t is oft found in our sexe , But who not loue , not any thing suspects ? True loue doth looke with pale suspicious eye , Take away loue , if you take iealousie . VVhen Henry , Turwin , and proud Turnay won , Little thought I the end when this begun ; vvhen Maximilian to those wars adrest , vvare Englands Crosse on his imperiall brest , And in our Armie let his Eagle flie , And had his pay from Henries treasurie , Little thought I when first began these wars , My marriage day should end those bloody iars ; From which I vow , I yet am free in thought , But this alone by VVoolseys wit was wrought . To his aduise the King gaue free consent , That will I , nill I , I must be content . My virgins right , my state could not aduance , But now enriched with the dower of Fraunce ; Then , but poore Suffolkes Dutches had I beene , Now , the great Dowager , the most Christian Queene . But I perceiue where all thy griefe doth lie , Lewes of Fraunce had my virginitie ; He had indeed , but shall I tell thee what , Beleeue me Brandon he had scarcely that ; Good feeble King , he could not doe much harme , But age must needs haue something that is warme ; Smal drops ( God knowes ) doe quench that heatlesse fire , vvhen all the strength is onely in desire . And I could tell ( if modesty might tell , ) There 's somewhat else that pleaseth Louers well , To rest his cheeke , vpon my softer cheeke , vvas all he had , and more he did not seeke . So might the little babie clip the nurse , And it content , she neuer a whit the worse ; Then thinke this Brandon , if that makes thee frowne , For mayden-head he , on my head set a Crowne , vvho would exchaunge a Kingdome for a kisse ? Hard were the hart that would not yeeld him this ; And time yet halfe so swiftly doth not passe , Not full fiue months yet elder then I was . VVhen thou to Fraunce conducted was by fame , vvith many Knights which from all Countries came , Installed at S. Dennis in my throne , vvhere Lewes held my coronation ; VVhere the proud Dolphin , for thy valour sake , Chose thee at tilt his princely part to take ; vvhen as the staues vpon thy caske did light , Greeued there-with , I turn'd away my sight ; And spake aloud , when I my selfe forgot , T is my sweet Charles , my Brandon , hurt him not : But when I fear'd the King perceiued this , Good silly man , I pleas'd him with a kisse ; And to extoll his valiant sonne began , That Europe neuer bred a brauer man ; And when ( poore King ) he simply praised thee , Of all the rest I ask'd which thou should'st be ? Thus I with him , dissembled for thy sake , Open confession now amends must make . VVhilst this old King vpon a pallet lies , And onely holds a combat with mine eyes ; Mine eies from his , by thy sight stolne away , vvhich might too well their Mistres thoughts bewray . But when I saw thy proud vnconquered Launce , To beare the prize from all the flower of Fraunce , To see what pleasure did my soule imbrace , Might easily be discerned in my face . Looke as the dew vpon a Damaske-Rose , How through that clearest pearle his blushing showes , And when the soft ayre breathes vpon his top , From those sweet leaues falls easilly drop by drop ; Thus by my cheeke , downe rayning from mine eyes , One teare for ioy , anothers roome supplies . Before mine eye ( like touch ) thy shape did proue , Mine eye condemn'd my too too partiall loue ; But since by others I the same doe trie , My loue condemnes my too too partiall eye . The precious stone most beautifull and rare , vvhen with it selfe we onely doe compare , vvee deeme all other of that kind to be , As excellent as that we onely see ; But when we iudge of that with others by , Too credulous we doe condemne our eye , vvhich then appeares more orient & more bright As from their dimnes , borrowing great light . Alansoon , a fine timbered man , and tall , Yet wants the shape thou are adornd withall ; Vandon , good carriage , and a pleasing eye , Yet hath not Suffolkes Princely maiestie ; Couragious Burbon , a sweet manly face , But yet he wants my Brandons courtly grace . Proud Long auile , our Court iudg'd had no peere , A man scarce made ( was thought ) whilst thou wast heere . County S. Paule , brau'st man a● armes in Fraunce , vvould yeeld himselfe a Squire to beare thy Launce ; Galleas and Bounearme , matchlesse for their might , Vnder thy towring blade haue coucht in fight . If with our loue , my brother angrie bee , I le say for his sake I first loued thee ; And but to frame my liking to his mind , Neuer to thee had I beene halfe so kind . Should not the sister like as doth the brother , The one of vs should be vnlike the other . VVorthy my loue , the vulgar iudge no man , Except a Yorkist , or Lancastrian ; Nor thinke that my affection should be set , But in the line of great Plantaginet . I passe not what the idle Commons say , I pray thee Charles make hah and come away . To thee what 's England , if I be not there ? Or what to me is Fraunce , if thou not heere ? Thy absence makes me angry for a while , But at thy presence I must needlsy smile . VVhen last of me his leaue my Brandon tooke , He sware an oath , ( and made my lips the booke ) He would make hast , which now thou doo'st deny Thou art forsworne , ô wilfull periury . Sooner would I with greater sinnes dispence , Then by intreaty pardon this offence . But yet I thinke , if I should come to shriue thee , Great were the fault that I should not forgiue thee ; Yet wert thou heere , I should reuenged be , But it should be with too much louing thee . I , that is all that thou shalt feare to tast , I pray thee Brandon come , sweet Charles make hast . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . The vtmost date expired of my stay , When I for Douer did depart away . KIng Henry the 8. with the Queene and Nobles , in the 6. yeere of his raigne , in the moneth of September , brought this ladie to Douer , where she tooke shipping for Fraunce . Think'st thou my loue was faithfull vnto thee , When young Castile ' to England su'd for me . It was agreed and concluded betwixt Hen. the 7. and Phillip King of Castile , Sonne to Maximilean the Emperour , that Charles eldest sonne of the said Phillip , should marry the Lady Mary , daughter to King Henry , when they came to age : which agreement was afterward in the 8. yeere of Henry the 8. annihilated . When he in triumph of his victory , Vnder a rich embrodered Canapy , Entred proud Turney which did trembling stand . &c. Henry the 8. after th● long siege of Turnay , which was deliuered to him vpon composition , entred the Citty in triumph , vnder a Can●py of cloth of gold , borne by foure of the chiefe and most noble Citizens ; the King himselfe mounted vpon a gallant courser barbed with the Armes of England , Fraunce , and Ireland . When Charles of Castile there to ba●quet came , With him his sister , that ambitious Dame , Sauoys proud Dutches. The King beeing at Tournay , there came to him the Prince of Castile , & the Lady Margaret Dutches of Sauoy his sister , to whom King Henry gaue great entertainment . Sauoys proude Dutches , knowing how long shee By her loue sought to win my loue from mee . At this time there was speech of a marriage to be concluded , betweene Charles Brandon then L. Lisle , & the Dutches of Sauoy , the L. Lisle being highly fauoured , & exceedingly beloued of the Dutches. When in King Henrie● Tent of cloth of gold , The King caused a rich Tent of cloth of gold to be erected , where he feasted the Prince of Castile & the Dutches , and entertained them with sumptuous maskes and banquets during their aboad . When Maximilian to those wars addrest W●re Englands Crosse on his imperiall breast , Maximilian the Emperour with all his souldiours , which serued vnder King Henry , wore the crosse of S. George , with the Rose on their breasts . And in our Armi● let his Eagle flie , The blacke Eagle is the badge imperiall , which here is vsed for the displaying of his ensigne or standard . And had his pay from Henries treasurie . Henry the 8. at his wars in Fraunce , retained the Emperour & all his Souldiours in wages , which serued vnder him during those warres . But this alone by Wolseys wit was wrought , Thomas Wolsey , the Kings Almoner , then Bishoppe of Lincolne , a man of great authoritie with the king , & afterward Cardinall , was the thiefe cause that the Lady Mary was married to the old French king , with whom the French King had dealt vnderhand to be friend him in that match . When the proude Dolphin for thy valour sake , Chose thee at tylt his pr●ncely part to take . Frauncis Duke of Valoyes , and Dolphin of Fraunce , at the mariage of the Lady Mary , in honour thereof proclaimed a Iusts , where hee chose the Duke of Suffolke , and the Marques Dorset for his aydes , at all martiall exercises . Galeas , and Bounarme , matchles for their might , This County Galeas at the Iusts ran a course with a Speare , which was at the head fiue inches square on euery side , and at the But nine inches square , whereby here shewed his wondrous force and strength . This Bounarme , a Gentleman of Fraunce , at the same time came into the field armed at all points with tenne speares about him● in each stirrop three , vnder each thigh one , one vnder his left arme , and one in his hand , and putting his horse to the careere , neuer stopped him till he had broken euery staffe . Hall. Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk , to Mary the French Queene . BVt that thy fayth commaunds me to forbeare , The fault thine owne , if I impatient were ; vvere my dispatch such as should be my speed , I should want time thy louing lines to reede , Heere in the Court , Camelion like I fare , And as that creature , onely liue by ayre , All day I waite , and all the night I watch , And starue mine eares to heare of my dispatch ; If Douer were th'Abydos of my rest , Or pleasant Callice were my Maries Cest , Thou should'st not neede , fayre Queene to blame me so , Did not the distance to desire say no , No tedious night from trauell should be free , Till through the waues , with swimming vnto thee A snowy path I made vnto thy Bay , So bright as is that Nectar-stayned way The restlesse sunne by trauailing doth weare , Passing his course to finish vp the yeare . But Paris locks my loue within the maine , And London yet they Brandon doth detaine , Of thy firme loue thou put'st me still in mind , But of my faith , not one word can I finde . VVhen Longauile to Mary was affied , And thou by him wast made King Lewis bride , How oft I wish'd that thou a prize might'st bee That I in Armes might combat him for thee , And in the madnes of my loue distraught , A thousand times his murther haue ●ore-thought But that th'all-seeing powers which sit aboue , Regard not mad mens oathes , nor faults in loue , And haue confirm'd it by the graunt of heauen , That Louers sinnes on earth should be forgiuen ; For neuer man is halfe so much distrest , As he that loues to see his loue possest . Comming to Richmond after thy depart ( Richmond , where first thou stol'st away my hart ) Me thought it look'd not as it did of late , But wanting thee , forlorne , and desolate , In whose fayere walkes thou often hast beene seene , To sport with Katherine , Henries beautious Queene● Astonishing sad vvinter with thy sight , As for thy sake , the day hath put back night ; That the byrds thinking to approach the spring , Forgot themselues , and haue begun to sing : So oft I goe by Thames , so oft returne , Me thinks for thee the Riuer yet doth mourne , vvho I haue seene to let her streame at large , vvhich like a Hand-maide waited on thy Barge ; And if thou hapst against the flood to row , vvhich way it ebd before , now would it flow , vveeping in drops vpon thy labouring oares , For ioy that it had got thee from the shoares . The Swans with musick that the Roothers make Ruffing theyr plumes , come gliding on the lake , As the fleet Dolphins , by Arions strings , were brought to land with their sweet rauishings , The flocks & heards that pasture neer the flood , To gaze vpon thee , haue forborne theyr food ; And sate downe sadly , mourning by the brim , That they by nature were not made to swim● VVhen as the Post to Englands royall Court , Of thy hard passage brought the true report , How in a storme thy well rigg'd ships were tost , And thou thy selfe in danger to be lost , I knew t was Venus loth'd that aged bed , vvhere beautie so should be dishonoured ; Or fear'd the Sea-Nimphs haunting of the Lake , If thou but seene , theyr Goddesse should forsake . And whirling round her Doue-drawne Coach about , To view thy Nauie now in launching out , Her ayrie mantle loosely doth vnbind , VVhich fanning forth a rougher gale of winde , vvafted thy failes with speede vnto the land , And runnes thy ship on Bullins harbouring strand . How should I ioy of thy ariue to heare ? But as a poore sea-faring passenger , After long trauaile , tempest-torne & wrack'd , By some vnpitting Pyrat that is sack'd ; Heare 's the false robber that hath stolne his wealth , Landed in some safe harbour , and in health , Enriched with inualuable store , For which he long hath trauailed before . VVhen thou to Abuile held'st th' appointed day , vvee heard how Lewes met thee on the way , vvhere thou in glittering Tissue strangely dight , Appear'dst vnto him , like the Queene of light , In cloth of siluer all thy virgine traine , In beautie sumptuous , as the Northerne waine ; And thou alone the formost glorious star , vvhich lead'st the teame of that great VVagoner . VVhat could thy thought be , but as I doe thinke , vvhen thine eyes tasted , what mine eares did drinke ? A cripple King layd bedrid long before , Yet at thy comming crept out of the dore , T' was well he rid , he had no legs to goe , But this thy beautie forc'd his body to ; For whom a cullice had more fitter beene , Then in a golden bed a gallant Queene . To vse thy beauty as the miser gold , vvhich hoards it vp but onely to behold , Still looking on it with a iealous eye , Fearing to lend , yet louing vsurie ; O Sacriledge , ( if beautie be diuine , ) The prophane hand should touch the halowed shrine . To surfet sicknes on the sound mans diet , To rob Content , yet still to liue vnquiet , And hauing all , to be of all beguild , And yet still longing like a little child● VVhen Marques Dorset and the valiant Grayes To purchase fame first crost the narrow Seas , vvith all the Knights that my associates went , In honour of thy nuptiall turnament , Thinkst thou I ioy'd not in thy Beauties pride ? vvhen thou in triumph didst through Paris ride , vvhere all the streets as thou didst pace along vvith Arras , Bisse , and Tapestry were hong ; Ten thousand gallant Cittizens prepar'd , In rich attire thy princely selfe to guard ; Next them , three thousand choise religious men , In golden vestments followed on agen ; And in procession as they came along , vvith Hymeneus sang thy marriage song . Then fiue great Dukes , as did theyr places fall , To each of these , a Princely Cardinall , Then thou on thy imperiall Chariot set , Crown'd with a rich imperled Coronet , vvhilst the Parisian Dames , as thy traine past , Their precious Incence in aboundance cast . As Cinthia from the waue-embatteld shrouds , Opening the west , comes streaming through the clouds , vvith shining troupes of siluer-tressed stars Attending on her , as her Torch-bearers , And all the lesser lights about her throne , VVith admiration stand as lookers on ; vvhilst shee alone in height of all her pride , The Queene of light , along her spheare doth glide , VVhen on the tylt my Horse like thunder came , No other signall had I but thy name , Thy voyce my trumpet , and my guide thine eyes , And but thy beautie , I esteem'd no prize . That large● limd Almaine of the Gyants race , vvhich bare strength on his breast , feare in his face , vvhose sinewed armes , with his steele-tempered blade , Through plate and male , such open passage made , Vpon whose might the French-mens glory lay , And all the hope of that victorious day , Thou saw'st thy Brandon beate him on his knee , Offring his shield a conquered spoile to thee , But thou wilt say , ( perhaps ) I vainely boast And tell thee that which thou alreadie know'st , No sacred Queene , my valour I denie , It was thy beautie , not my chiualry ; One of thy tressed curles vvhich falling downe , As loth to be imprisoned in thy Crowne , I saw the soft ayre sportiuely to take it , To diuers shapes and sundry formes to make it , Now parting it to foure , to three , to twaine , Now twisting it , and then vntwist againe ; Then make the threds to dally with thine eye , A sunny candle , for a golden flie . At length from thence one little teare it got , vvhich falling downe as though a star had shot , My vp-turnd eye pursues it with my sight , The which againe redoubleth all my might . T is but in vaine , of my descent to boast , vvhen heauens Lampe shines , all other lights be lost , Faulcons gaze not , the Eagle sitting by , vvhose broode suruayes the sunne with open eye ; Else might my blood finde issue from his force , In Bosworth plaine , beate Richard from his horse , vvhose puissant Armes , great Richmond chose to weeld , His glorious colours in that conquering feeld ; And with his sword in his deere soueraignes fight , To his last breath , stood fast in Henries right . Then beautious Empresse , thinke this safe delay , Shall be the euen to a ioyfull day ; Fore-sight doth still on all aduantage lie , vvise-men must giue place to necessity , To put backe ill , our good we must forbeare , Better first feare , then after still to feare . T were ouer-sight in that at which we ayme , To put the hazard on an after-game ; vvith patience then let vs our hopes attend , And till I come , receiue these lines I send . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . When Longauile to Mary was affied , THE Duke of Longauile which was prisoner in England vpon the peace to be concluded between England & France , was deliuered , and maried the Princesse Mary , for Lewes the French king his master● How in a storme thy well rigg'd ships were tost , And thou &c. As the Queene sayled for Fraunce , a mighty storme arose at sea , so that the Nauy was in great danger , & was seuered , some driuen vpon the coast of Flanders , some on Brittaine : the ship wherin the queene was , was driuen into the Hauon at Bullen with very great danger . When thou to Abuile heldst th' appointed day . King Lewes met her by Abuile , neere to the Forrest of Arders , and ●rought her into Abuile with great solemnitie . Appear'dst vnto him like the Queene of Light. Expressing the sumptuous attire of the Queene & her traine , attended by the chiefe of the Nobilitie of England , with 36. Ladies all in cloth of siluer , their horses trapped with Crimson veluet . A cripple King laid bedrid lo●g before . King Lewes , was a man of great yeeres , troubled much with the gout , so that he had of long time before little vse of legs . When Marques Dorset , and the valiant Grayes . The Duke of Suffolk when the proclamation came into England , of Iusts to be holden in Fraunce at Paris , he for the Queenes sake his Mistres , obtained of the King to goe thither : with whom went the Marques Dorcet and his foure brothers , the Lord Clynton , Sir Edward Neuell , Sir Gyles Chappell , Tho. Cheyney : which went all ouer with the Duke as his assistants . When thou in triumph didst through Paris ride A true description of the Queenes ●ntring into Paris , after her co●onation performd at S. Dennis . Then fiue great Dukes as did their places fall . The Dukes of Alansoon , Burbon , Vandome , Longauile , Suffolke , with fiue Cardinals . That large-limd Almaine of the Gyants race . Frauncis Valoys , the Dolphin of France enuying the glory , that the Englishmen had obtained at the tilt , brought in an Almaine secretly , a man thought almost of incomparable strength , which encountred . Charles Brandon at Barriers , but the Duke grappling with him , so bea● him about the head with the pomel of his sword , that the blood came out of the sight of his Caske . Else might my blood find issue from his force , In Bosworth , &c. Sir William Brandon standard-beater to the Earle of Richmond ( after Henry the 7. ) at Bosworth field , a braue and gallant Gentleman ; who was slaine by Richard there , this was Father to this Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolke . FINIS . To my most deere friend Maister Henry Lucas , sonne to Edward Lucas Esquire . SIR , to none haue I beene more beholding , then to your kind parents , far ( I must truly confesse ) aboue the measure of my deserts : Many there be in England of whom for some particularitie I might iustly challenge greater merit , had I not beene borne in so euill an houre , as to be poisoned with that gaule of ingratitude : to your selfe am I ingaged for many more curtesies then I imagined could euer haue beene found in one of so few yeares : nothing doe I more desire then that those hopes of your toward and vertuous youth , may prooue so pure in the fruite as they are faire in the bloome : long may you liue to their comfort that loue you most ; and may I euer wish you the encrease of all good fortunes . Yours euer , Michaell Drayton . Henry Howard Earle of Surrey to Geraldine . The Argument . Henry Howard , that true noble Earle of Surrey , and excellent Poet , falling in loue with Geraldine ; descended of the noble family of the Fitzgeralds of Ireland , a faire & modest Lady ; and one of the honourable maids to Quene Katherine Dowager : eternizeth her prayses in many excellent Poems , of rare and sundrie inuentions : and after some few yeares beeing determined to see that famous Italy , the source and Helicon of all excellent Arts ; first visiteth that renowned Florence , from whence the Geralds challence their descent , from the ancient familie of the Geraldi ; there in honour of his mistresse be aduanceth her picture : and challengeth to maintaine her beauty by deeds of Armes against all that durst appeare in the lists , where after the proofe of his braue and incomparable valour , whose arme crowned her beauty with eternall memorie , he writeth this Epistle to his deerest Mistres . FRom learned Florence , ( long time rich in same ) From whence thy race , thy noble Grandsires came , To famous England , that kind nurse of mine , Thy Surrey sends to heauenly Geraldine , Yet let not Thuscan thinke I doe her wrong , That I from thence write in my natiue tongue , That in these harsh-tun'd cadences I sing , Sitting so neere the Muses sacred spring , But rather thinke her selfe adorn'd thereby , That England reads the praise of Italy . Though to the Thuscans , I the smoothnes grant , Our dialect no maiestie doth want , To set thy prayses in as hie a key , As Fraunce , or Spaine , or Germany , or they , That day I quit the Fore-land of faire Kent , And that my ship her course for Flandersbent ; Yet thinke I with how many a heauy looke , My leaue of England and of thee I tooke , And did intreat the tide ( if it might be ) But to conuey me one sigh backe to thee , Vp to the decke a billow lightly skips , Taking my sigh , and downe againe it slips ; Into the gulfe it selfe , it headlong throwes , And as a Post to England-ward it goes ; As I sit wondring how the rough seas stird , I might far off perceiue a little bird , vvhich as she faine from shore to shore would flie Hath lost her selfe in the broad vastie skie , Her feeble wing beginning to deceiue her , The seas , of life still gaping to bereaue her ; Vnto the ship she makes which she discouers , And there ( poore foole ) a while for refuge houers , And when at length her flagging pineon failes Panting she hangs vpon the ratling failes , And being forc'd to loose her hold with paine , Yet beaten off , she straight lights on againe , And tost with flawes , with stormes , with wind , with wether , Yet still departing thence , still turneth thether , Now with the Poope , now with the Prow doth beare , Now on this side , now that , now heer● , now there , Me thinks these stormes should be my sad depart , The silly helpelesse bird , is my poore bart , The ship , to which for succour it repaires , That is your selfe , ( regardlesse of my cares ) Of euery surge doth fall , or waue doth rise , To some one thing I sit and moralize . VVhen for thy loue I left the Belgick shore , Diuine Erasmus , and our famous Moore , vvhose happy presence gaue me such delight As made a minute of a winters night ; vvith whom a while I stai'd at Roterdame , Now so renowned by Erasmus name . Yet euery houre did seeme a world of time , Till I had seene that soule-reuiuing clime , And thought the foggy Netherlands vnfit , A watry soyle to clog a fiery wit ; And as that wealthy Germany I past , Comming vnto the Emperors Court at last , Great learn'd Agrippa , so profound in Art , vvho the infernall secrets doth impart , vvhen of thy health I did desire to know , Me in a glasse my Geraldine did shew , Sicke in thy bed , and for thou couldst net sleepe , By a watch Taper set thy light to keepe ; I doe remember thou didst read that Ode , Sent backe whilst I , in Thanet made abode , vvhere as thou cam'st vnto the word of loue , Euen in thine eyes I saw how passion stroue ; That snowy Lawne which couered thy bed , Me thought look'd white , to see thy cheeke so red , Thy rosie cheeke , oft changing in my sight , Yet still was red , to see the Lawne so white ; The little Taper which should giue thee light , Me thought wax'd dim , to see thy eye so bright ; Thine eye againe supplies the Tapers turne , And with his beames doth make the Taper burne ; The shrugging ayre about thy Temple hurles , And wraps thy breath in little clouded curles , And as it doth ascend , it straight doth ceaze it , And as it sinks , it presently doth raise it ; Canst thou by sicknes banish beauty so ? VVhich if put from thee , knowes not where to goe ; To make her shift , and for her succour seeke , To euery riueld face , each bankrupt cheeke , If health preseru'd , thou beauty still doost cherish , If that neglected , beauty soone doth perish . Care , drawes on care , woe comforts woe againe , Sorrow breeds sorrow , one griefe brings forth twaine , If liue or die , as thou doost , so doe I , If liue , I liue , and if thou die , I die , One hart , one loue , one ioy , one griefe , one troth , One good , one ill , one life , one death , to both , If Howards blood , thou hold'st as but too vile , Or not esteem'st of Norfolks Princely stile , If Scotlands coate no marke of fame can lend , That Lion plac'd in our bright siluer bend , vvhich as a Trophy beautifies our shield , Since Scottish blood discoloured Floden field ; VVhen the proud Cheuiot our braue Ensigne beare , As a rich iewel in a Ladies haire , And did faire Bramstons neighbouring valies choke , vvith clouds of Canons , fire disgorged smoke , Or Surreys Earldome insufficient be , And not a dower so well contenting thee ; Yet am I one of great Apollos heires , The sacred Muses challenge me for theirs ; By Princes , my immortall lines are sung , My flowing verses grac'd with euery tung ; The little children when they learne to goe , By painefull mothers daded to and fro , Are taught my sugred numbers to rehearse , And haue their sweet lips season'd with my verse ; vvhen heauen would striue to doe the best it can , And put an Angels spirit into a man ; The vtmost power in that great worke doth spend , vvhen to the world a Poet it doth intend , That little difference twixt the Gods and vs , ( By them confirm'd ) distinguish'd onely thus , vvhom they in birth , ordaine to happie daies , The Gods commit , their glory to our praise , To eternall life when they dissolue that breath , vve likewise share a second power by death : VVhen time shall turne those Amber curles to gray , My verse againe shall guild and make them gay , And trick them vp in knotted curles anew , And in the autumne giue a sommers hue ; That sacred power , that in my Inke remaines , Shall put fresh blood into thy wither'd vaines , And on thy red decay'd , thy whitenes dead , Shall set a white , more white , a red , more red ; VVhen thy dim sight thy glasse cannot discry . Thy crazed mirrhor cannot see thine eye ; My verse to tell , what eye , what mirrhor was , Glasse to thine eye , an eye vnto thy glasse , vvhere both thy mirrhor and thine eye shall see , vvhat once thou saw'st , in that , that saw in thee , And to them both shall tell the simple truth , vvhat that in purenes was , what thou in youth . If Florence once should loose her old renowne , As Famous Athence , now a fisher towne , My lines for thee a Florence shall erect , vvhich great Apollo euer shall protect , And with the numbers from my pen that falls , Bring Marble mines to recrect those walls ; Nor beauteous Stanhope , whom all tongs report , To be the glory of the English Court , Shall by our Nation be so much admir'd , If euer Surrey truly were inspir'd . And famous VVyat , who in numbers sings , To that inchanting Thracian Harpers strings , To whom Phoebus ( the Poets God ) did drinke , A bowle of Nectar , fill'd vnto the brinke , And sweet-tongu'd Bryan ( whom the Muses kept And in his Cradle rockt him whilst he slept , ) In sacred verses ( so diuinely pend ) Vpon thy prayses euer shall attend . VVhat time I came vnto this famous Towne , And made the cause of my arriuall knowne , Great Medices a list ( for triumphs ) built , vvithin the which , vpon a tree of gilt , vvith thousand sundry rare deuises set , ) I did erect thy louely counterfet , To aunswere those Italian Dames desire , vvhich daily came thy beautie to admire . By which my Lyon in his gaping iawes Holdeth my Launce , and in his dreadfull pawes , Reacheth my Gauntlet vnto him that dare A beauty with my Geraldines compare . vvhich when each manly valiant arme assayes , After so many braue tryumphant dayes , The glorious prize vpon my Launce I bare , By Heralds voyce proclaim'd to be thy share ; The shiuered staues here for thy beautie broke , vvith fierce encounters past at euery shock , vvhen stormie courses answered cuffe for cuffe , Denting proude Beuers with the counter-buffe , Vpon an Altar burnt with holy flame , And sacrifiz'd as ensence to thy fame . VVhere , as the Phenix from her spiced fume , Renues herselfe in that she doth consume , So from these sacred ashes liue we both , Euen as that one Arabian wonder doth . VVhen to my chamber I my selfe retire , Burnt with the sparks that kindled all this fire , Thinking of England which my hope containes , The happy Ile where Geraldine remaines , Of Honsdon where , those sweet celestiall eyne , At first did pierce this tender breast of mine ; Of Hampton Court , and VVindsore , where abound , All pleasures that in Paradice were found ; Neere that faire Castell is a little groue , vvith hanging rocks all couered from aboue , vvhich on the banck of louely Thames doth stand , Clip'd by the water from the other Land , vvhose bushie top doth bid the sunne forbeare , And checks those proud beames that would enter there , vvhose leaues still muttering as the ayre doth breath , vvith the sweet bubling of the streame beneath , Doth rock the sences ( whilst the small birds sing , ) Lulled a sleepe with gentle murmuring , vvhere light-foote Fayries sport at prison base , No doubt there is some power frequents the place , There the soft popler and smooth beech doe beare , Our names together carued euery where , And Gordian knots doe curiously entwine , The names of Henry , and of Geraldine . O let this Groue in happy times to come , Be call'd , The Louers bless'd Elizium , vvhether my Mistres wonted to resort , In Sommers heate , in pleasant shades to sport , A thousand sundry names I haue it giuen , And cald it VVonder-hider , Cou●● heauen , The roofe where beauty her rich 〈◊〉 doth keepe , Vnder whose compasse all the starres doe sleepe . There is one tree , which now I call to minde , Doth beare these verses carued in his rinde , VVhen Geraldine shall sit in thy faire shade , Fan her sweet tresses with perfumed ayre , Let thy large boughes a Canapie be made , To keepe the Sunne from gazing on my faire , And when thy spredding branched armes be suncke , And thou no sap nor pith shalt more retaine , Eu'n from the dust of thy vnwieldy Truncke , I will renue thee Phoenix-like againe , And from thy dry decayed roote will bring , A new-borne Stem , another AEsons● spring . I finde no cause , nor iudge I reason why My country should giue place to Lumbardy ; As goodly flowers on Thamisis doe grow , As beautifie the banks of wanton Poo ; As many Nymphs as haunt rich Arnus strand , By siluer Sabrine tripping hand in hand . Our shades as sweet , though not to vs so deere , Because the sunne hath greater power heere , This distant place but giues me greater woe , Far off , my sighes the farther haue to goe . Ah absence why , thus shouldst thou seeme so long ? Or wherefore shouldst thou offer time such wrong ? Summer so soone , should steale on winters cold , Or winters blasts , so soone make summer old ? Loue did vs both with one selfe arrow strike , Our wounds both one , our ●ure should be the like , Except thou hast found out some meane by Art , Some powerfull medicine to withdraw the dart , But mine is fix'd , and absents phisick proued , It sticks too fast , it cannot be remooued . Adiew , adiew , from Florence when I goe , By my next letters Geraldine shall know , VVhich if good fortune shall my course direct , From Venice by some messenger expect , Till when I leaue thee to thy harts desire , By him that liues thy vertues to admire . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . From learned Florence , long time rich in fame . FLorence a Citty of Thuscan , standing vpon the Riuer Arnus , ( celebrated by Dante , Petrarch , and other , the most noble wits of Italie , ) was the originall of the familie out of which this Geraldine did spring , as Ireland the place of her birth , which is intimated by these ver●es of the Earle of Surreys . From Thuscan came my Ladies worthy race , Fayre Florence was sometime her ancient seate , The Westerne I le , whose pleasant shore doth face Wild Cambers cliffs , did giue her liuely heate . Great learn'd Agrippa so profound in Art. Cornelius Agrippa , a man in his time so famous for magick ( which the bookes published by him , concerning that argument doe partlie proue ) as in this place needs no further remembrance . Howbeit , as those abstruse and gloomy Arts are but illusions , so in the honour of so rare a Gentleman as this Earle , ( and therewithall so noble a Poet ) ( a qualitie by which his other titles receiue their greatest luster ) inuention may make somewhat more bolde with Agrippa aboue the barren truth . That Lyon set in our bright siluer bend . The blazo● of the Howards honorable armour , was Gules betweene sixe crosselets Fitches a bend Argent , to which afterwardes was added by atchiuement , In the Canton point of the bend an escutcheon , or within the Scottish tressure a Dem●●ion rampant Gules &c. as Maister Camden now Clarenceaulx from authoritie noteth . Neuer shall time nor bitter enuy be able to obscure the brightnes of so great a victory as that for which this addition was obtained . The Historian of Scotland George Beuchanan reporteth , that the Earle of Surrey gaue for his badge a siluer Lyon , ( which from antiquitie belonged to that name ) tearing in peeces A Lyon prostrate Gules , and withall that this which he termes insolencie , was punished in him & his posterity , as if it were fatall to the conquerour to doe his soueraigne such loyall seruice as a thousand such seuere censurers were neuer able to performe . Since Scottish blood discoloured Floden field . The battell was fought at Bramstone neere to Flodden hill beeing a part of the Cheuiot , a mountaine that exceedeth all the mountaines in the North of England for bignes , in which the wilfull periurie of Iames the fifth was punished from heauen by the Earle of Surrey , being left by King Henry the eyght ( then in Fraunce before Turwin ) for the desence of his Realme . Nor beautious Stanhope , whom all tongues report To be the glory &c. Of the beautie of that Lady , he himselfe testifies in an Elegie which he writ of her refusing to daunce with him , which he seemeth to alegorize vnder a Lyon and a Wolfe . And of himselfe he saith . A Lyon saw I late , as white as any snow . And of her . I might perceiue a Wolfe as white as Whalls bone , A fairer beast , of fresher hue , beheld I neuer none , But that her lookes were coy , and froward was her grace . And famous Wyat who in numbers sings Sir Thomas Wyat the elder , a most excellent Poet , as his Poems extant doe witnes , besides certaine Encomions written by the Earle of Surrey vpon some of Dauids Psalmes , by him translated . What holy graue , what worthy Sepulcher , To wyats Psalmes shall Christians purchase then . And afterward vpon his death the said Earle writeth thus . What vertues rare were tempred in thy brest ? Honour that England such a Iewell bred , And kisse the ground whereas thy corps did rest . At Honsdon , where those sweet celestiall eyne , It is manifest by a Sonnet written by this noble Earle , that the first time he beheld his Lady , was at Hunsdon . Honsdon did first present her to mine eyne , Which Sonnet beeing altogether a description of his loue , I do alledge in diuers places of this glosse , as proofes of what I write . Of Hampton Court and Windsore where abound , All pleasures , &c. That hee enioyed the presence of his faire and vertuous mistris , in those two places , by reason of queene Katherines vsuall aboad there , ( on whom this Lady Geraldiue was attending ) I proue by these yerses of his . Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine , Winsor alas doth chase me from her sight . And in another Sonnet following . When Winsor walls sustaind my wearied arme , My hand my chin , to ease my restles head . And that his delight might draw him to compare Winsor to Paradice , an Elegy may proue , where he remembreth his passed pleasures in that place . With a Kings sonne my childish yeeres I pass'd , In greater feast then Priams sonne of Troy : And againe in the same Elegie . Those large greene Courts , where we were wont to roue , With eyes cast vp vnto the maydens Tower , With easie sighs , such as men draw in loue . And againe in the same . The statelie seats , the Ladies bright of hue . The dances short , long tales of sweet delight . And for the pleasant●es of the place , these verses of his may tosusie in the same Elegie before recited . The secret groues which we haue made resound , With siluer drops the meads yet spread for ruth , As goodly flowers from Thamisis doe grow . &c. I had thought in this place not to haue spoken of Thames beeing so oft remembred by me before in sundry other places on this occasion : but thinking of that excellent Epigram , which as I iudge either to be done by the said Earle or Sir Frauncis Brian : for the woorthinesse thereof I will heere insett , which as it seemes to me was compi●ed at the Authors beeing in Spayne . Tagus farewell , which Westward with thy streames , Turn'st vp the graines of gold already tride , For I with spur and sayle goe seeke the Thames , Against the sun that shewes her wealthy pride ; And to the towne that Brutus sought by dreames , Like bended Moone that leanes her lustie side , To seeke my Country now , for whom I liue , O mighty Ioue , for this the winds mee giue . FINIS . Geraldine to Henry Howard Earle of Surrey . SVch greeting as the noble Surrey sends , The same to thee thy Geraldine commends ; A maydens thoughts doe check my trembling hand , On other termes , or complements to stand , vvhich ( might my speech be as my hart affords ) Should come attired in farre richer words ; But all is one , my faith as firme shall proue , As hers that makes the greatest show of loue . In Cupids Schoole I neuer read those bookes , vvhose lectures oft we practise in our lookes , Nor euer did suspitions riuall eye , Yet lie in waite my fauours to espie , My virgine thoughts are innocent and meeke , As the chast blushes sitting on my cheeke : As in a Feauer I doe shiuer yet , Since first my penne was to the paper set . If I doe erre , you know my sexe is weake , Feare proues a fault , where mayds are forc'd to speake● Doe I not ill ? ah sooth me not heerein , O , if I doe , reproue me of my sinne , Chide me infaith , or if my fault you hide , My tongue will teach my selfe , my selfe to chide . Nay noble Surrey , blot it if thou wilt , Then too much boldnes should returne my guilt ; For that should be euen from our selues conceal'd , vvhich is disclosd , if to our thoughts reueal'd , For the least motion , more the smallest breath That may impeach our modestie , is death , The Page that brought thy Letters to my hand , ( Me thinks ) should meruaile at my strange demaund , For till he blush'd , I did not yet espie , The nakednes of my immodestie , vvhich in my face he greater might haue seene , But that my fanne I quickly put betweene ; Yet scarcely that my inward guilt could hide , Feare seeing all , feares it of all espide . Like to a Taper lately burning bright , Now wanting matter to maintaine his light . The blaze a●cending forced by the smoke , Liuing by that which seekes the same to choke ; The flame still hanging in the ayre doth burne , Vntill drawne downe , it back againe returne . Then cleere , then dim , then spreadeth , and then closeth , Now getteth strength , and now his brightnes looseth . As well the best discerning eye may doubt , VVhether it yet be in , or whether out : Thus in my cheeke my diuers passions show'd , Now ashy pale , and now againe it glow'd ; If in your verse there be a power to moue , It 's you alone who are the cause I loue , It 's you bewitch my bosome by mine eare , Vnto that end I did not place you there . Ayres to asswage the bloody Souldiors mind , Poore women we are naturally kind . Perhaps yow 'll thinke that I these termes enforce , For that in Court this kindnes is of course , Or that it is that honey-steeped gall , vve oft are said to bayte our loues withall , That in one eye we carry strong desire , The other drops which quickly quench the fire , Ah what so false can Enuie speake of vs , But shall finde some too vainly credulous ? I doe not so , and to adde proofe thereto , I loue in faith , in faith sweet Lord I do ; Nor let the enuie of enuenom'd tongues , vvhich still is grounded on poore Ladies wrongs , Thy noble breast diasterly possesse , By any doubt to make my loue the lesse : My house from Florence I doe not pretend , Nor from Giraldi claime I to descend , Nor hold those honours insufficient are , That I receiue from Desmond or Kyldare ; Nor adde I greater worth vnto my blood , Than Irish milke to giue me Infant food , Nor better ayre will euer boast to breathe , Then that of Lenster , Mounster , or of Meathe , Nor craue I other forraine farre alies , Then VVindsor or Fitz-geralds families . It is enough to leaue vnto my heires , If they will but acknowledge me for theirs . To what place euer did the Court remoue , But that the house giues matter to my loue , At VVindsor still I see thee sit and walke , There mount thy courser , there deuise , there talk : The roabes , the garter , and the state of Kings , Into my thoughts thy hoped greatnes brings ; Nonsuch , the name imports ( me thinks ) so much , None such as thou , nor as my Lord , none such , In Hamptons great magnificence I finde , The liuely image of thy Princely minde ; Faire Richmonds towers like goodly pillers stand Rear'd by the power of thy victorious hand ; VVhitehalls tryumphing Galleries are yet , Adorn'd with rich deuises of thy wit , In Greenwich yet as in a glasse I view , vvhere last thou badst thy Geraldine adiew , vvith euerie little gentle breath that blowes , How are my thoughts confus'd with ioyes and woes , As through a gate , so through my longing eares , Passe to my hart whole multitude of feares ; O in a map that I might see thee show , The place where now in daunger thou dost goe ; In sweet discourse to trauaile with our eye , Romania , Tuscaine , and faire Lumbardy Or with thy penne exactly to set downe , The modell of that Tempell or that Towne , And to relate at large where thou hast beene , And there , & there , & what thou there hast seen . Or to describe by figure of thy hand , There Naples lies , and there doth Florence stand ; Or as the Grecians finger dip'd in wine , Drawing a Riuer in a little line , And with a drop , a gulfe to figure out , To modell Venice moted round about ; Then ading more , to counterfet a Sea , And draw the front of stately Genoa . These from thy lips were like harmonious tones , vvhich now doe sound like Mandrakes dreadfull grones . Some trauell hence t' enrich their minds with skill , Leaue heere their good , and bring home others ill : vvhich seeme to like all countries but their owne , Affecting most where they the least are knowne . Their leg , their thigh , their backe , their necke , their head , There form'd , there fetch'd , there found , there borrowed . In their attire , their iesture , and their gate , Fond in each one , in all Italionate . Italian , French , Dutch , Spanish altogether , Yet not all these , nor one entirely neyther . So well in all deformitie in fashion , Borrowing a limme of euery seuerall Nation , And nothing more then England hold in scorne , So liue as strangers where as they were borne . But thy returne in this I doe not reed , Thou art a perfect Gentleman indeed ; O God forbid that Howards noble line , From auncient vertue should so farre decline , The Muses traine ( whereof your selfe are chiefe ) Onely with me participate their griefe : To sooth their humours , I doe lend them eares , He giues a Poet , that his verses heares . Till thy returne , by hope they onely liue , Yet had they all , they all away would giue ; The world and they , so ill according bee , That wealth and Poets neuer can agree . Few liue in Court that of their good haue care , The Muses friends are euery where so rare ; Some praise thy worth , thy worth that neuer know , Onely because the better sort doe so , vvhose iudgement neuer further doth extend , Then it doth please the greatest to commend , So great an ill vpon desert doth chaunce , vvhen it doth passe by beastly Ignorance . VVhy art thou slacke whilst no man puts his hand To raise the Mount where Surreys Towers must stand ? Or who the groundsill of that worke doth lay vvhilst like a wandrer thou abroad doost stray ? Clip'd in the armes of some lasciuious Dame , vvhen thou shouldst reare an Ilion to thy name . VVhen shall the Muses by faire Norwich dwell , To be the Citie of the learned VVell ? Or Phoebus Altars there with Incense heap'd As once in Cyrrha or in Thebae kept ? Or when shall that faire hoofe-plow'd spring distill From great Mount Surrey , out of Leonards hill ? Till thou returne , the Court I will exchaunge , For some poore cottage , or some countrey Grange , vvhere to our distaues as we sit and spin , My mayde and I will tell of things haue bin ; Our Lutes vnstrung shall hang vpon the wall , Our lessons serue to wrap our Towe withall , And passe the night , whilst winter tales we tell , Of many things that long agoe befell ; Or tune such homely Carrols as were song In Countrey sports when we our selues were yong . In prittie Riddles to bewray our loues , In questions , purpose , or in drawing gloues . The noblest spirits to vertue most inclind , These heere in Court thy greatest want doe find ; Other there be , on which we feed our eye , Like Arras worke , or such like Imagerie ; Many of vs desire Queene Kathe●ines state , But very few her vertues imitate . Then as Vlisses wife write I to thee , Make no reply , but come thy selfe to mee . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Then Winds●re , or Fitzgeralds families . THE cost of many Kings , which from time to time haue adorned the Castle at Windsor with their princely magnificence , hath made it more noble then that it neede to be spoken of now as though obscure , and I hold it more meet to refer you to our vulgar moniments for the founders and ●inishers thereof , then to meddle with matter nothing neere to the purpose . As for the family of the Fitz-geralds , of whence this excellent Ladie was lineally descended , the originall was English , though the branches did spread themselues into distant places and names nothing consonant , as in former times it was vsuall to denominate themselues of their manours or forenames : as may pattly appeare in that which ensueth , the light whereof proceeded from my learned and verie woorthy friend , Maister Fra●cis Thyn● . Walter of Windsor , the sonne of Oterus , had issue William , of whom Henry now Lord Windsor is descended , and Robert of Windsor , of whom Robert the now Earle of Essex , and Gerald of Windsor his third sonne , who married the daughter of Rees the great Prince of Wales , of whom came Nesta , paramour to Henry the first . Which Gerald had issue Maurice Fitzgerald , auncestor to Thomas Fitzmaurice , Iustice of I●eland buried at Trayly ; leauing issue Iohn his eldest sonne , first Earle or Kildare , ancestor to Geraldine , and Maurice his second sonne , first Earle of Desmond . To rayse the mount where Surreys Towers must stand , Alludeth to the sumptuous house which was afterward builded by him vpon Leonards hill right against Norwich , which in the rebellion of Norfolke vnder Kett , in King Edward the 6. time , was much desaced by that impure rable . Betwixt the hill and the Citie as Alexander Neuell describes it , the Riuer of Yarmouth runnes , hauing West and South thereof a wood , and a little Village called Thorp , and on the North , the pastures of Moushol which containes about sixe miles in length and breadth . So that besides the stately greatnes of Mount-Surrey , which was the houses name , the prospect and site thereof was passing pleasant and commodious ; and no where else did that encreasing euill of the Norfolke furie enkennell it selfe but then there , as it were for a manifest token of their intent , to debase all high things , and to prophane all holy . Like Arras worke , or other imagerie . Such was he whom Iuvenall taxeth in this manner . — truncoque similimus Herme Null● quippe alio vincis discrimine quamquod , Illi marmoreum caput est , tua viuit imago . Beeing to be borne for nothing else but apparell and the outward appearance , intituled Complement , with whom the ridiculous fable of the Ape in Esope sorteth sitly , who comming into a Caruers house , and viewing many Marble works , tooke vp the head of a man very cunningly wrought , who greatly in praising did seeme to pittie it , that hauing so comly an outside , it had nothing within , like emptie figures walke and talke in euery place , at whom the noble Geraldi●e modestly glanceth . FINIS . To the vertuous Ladie , the Lady Frauncis Goodere , wife to Sir Henry Goodere , Knight . MY verie gracious and good Mistres , the loue and dutie I bare to your Father whilst hee liued now after his deceasase is to your hereditarie ; to whom by the blessing of your birth he left his vertues . VVho bequeathed you those which were his , gaue you whatsoeuer good is mine , as deuoted to his , he being gone , whom I honoured so much whilst hee liued ; which you may iustly challenge by all lawes of thankefulnes . My selfe hauing beene a witnes of your excellent education , and mild disposition ( as I may say ) euer from your Cradle , dedicate this Epistle of this vertuous and goodly Ladie to your selfe ; so like her in all perfection , both of wisedome and learning , which I pray you accept , til time shall enable me to leaue you some greater monument of my loue . Mich : Drayton . The Ladie Iane Gray to the Lord Gilford Dudley . The Argument . After the death of that vertuous young Prince King Edward the sixt , the sonne of that famous King Henry the eight , Iane the daughter of Henry Gray , Duke of Suffolke by the consent of Iohn Dudley Duke of Northumberland , was proclaimed Queene of England , being married to Gilford Dudley , the fourth sonne of the fore-said Duke of Northumberland ; which match was concluded by their ambitious Fathers , who , went about by this meanes to bring the Crowne vnto their children , and to dispossesse the Princesse Mary , eldest daughter of King Henry the eight , ●eire to King Edward her brother . Queene Mary rising in Armes to claime her rightfull crowne , taketh the said Iane Gray , and the Lord Gilford her husband , beeing lodged in the Tower for their more safetie , which place being lastly their Pallace , by this meanes became their prison ; where being seuered in sundry prisons , they write these Epistles one to another . MIne own deere Lord , sith thou art lock'd from mee , In this disguise my loue must steale to thee , Since to renue all loues , all kindnes past , This refuge scarcely left , yet this the last . My Keeper comming , I of thee enquire , vvho with thy greeting aunswers my desire ; vvhich my tongue willing to returne againe , Griefe stops my words , and I but striue in vaine ; vvhere-with amaz'd , away in hast he goes , vvhen through my lips , my hart thrusts forth my woes ; vvhen as the doores that make a dolefull sound , Driue backe my words , that in the noyse are drownd , vvhich some-what hush'd , the eccho doth record , And twice or thrice reiterates my word , vvhen like an aduerse winde in Isis course , Against the tyde bending his boystrous force ; But when the flood hath wrought it selfe about , He following on , doth head-long thrust it out ; Thus striue my sighes with teares ere they begin , And breaking out , againe sighes driue them in . A thousand formes present my troubled thought , Yet proue abortiue when they forth are brought , From strongest woe , we hardly language wrest , The depth of griefe , with words are sounded least , As teares doe fall and rise , sighes come and goe , So doe these numbers ebb , so doe they flow . These briny teares doe make my Incke looke pale , My Inck clothes teares in this sad mourning vaile , The letters mourners , weepe with my dim eye , The paper pale , greeu'd at my misery . Yet miserable our selues , why should we deeme ? Sith none is so , but in his owne esteeme ; VVho in distresse , from resolution flies , Is rightly said to yeeld to miseries ; They which begot vs , did beget this sin , They first begun , what did our griefe begin , vvee tasted not , t' was they which did rebell , Not our offence , but in theyr fall we fell ; They which a Crowne would to my Lord haue linck'd , A●ll hope , all life , all libertie extinct ; A subiect borne , a Soueraigne to haue beene , Hath made me now , nor subiect , nor a Queene . Ah vile ambition , how doost thou deceaue vs , vvhich shew'st vs heauen , and yet in hell doost leaue vs ? Sildome vntouch'd doth innocence escape , vvhen error commeth in good counsailes shape , A lawfull title counterchecks proude might , The weakest things become strong props to right ; Then my deere Lord , although affliction grieue vs , Yet let our spotlesse innocence relieue vs. Death but an acted passion doth appeare , vvhere truth giues courage , and the conscience cleere , And let thy comfort thus consist in mine , That I beare part of vvhatsoere is thine ; As when we liu'd vntouch'd with these disgraces , vvhen as our kingdome was our sweet embraces ; At Durham Pallace● where sweet Hymen sang , vvhose buildings with our nuptiall musick rang ? vvhen Prothalamions praysd that happy day , vvherein great Dudley match'd with noble Gray , vvhen they deuisd to linck by wedlocks band , The house of suffolke to Northumberland ; Our fatall Dukedom to your Dukedome bound , To frame this building on so weake a ground● For what auailes a lawlesse vsurpation ? vvhich giues a scepter , but not rules a nation , Onely the surfeit of a vaine opinion , vvhat giues content , giues what exceeds dominion . VVhen first mine eares were persed with the fame , Of Iane proclaimed by a Princesse name , A suddaine fright my trembling hart appalls , The feare of conscience entreth yron walls . Thrice happy for our Fathers had it beene , If what we fear'd , they wisely had fore-seene , And kept a meane gate in an humble path , To haue escap'd these furious tempests wrath . The Cedar-building Eagle heares the wind , And not the Faulcon , though both Hawkes by kind ; That kingly bird doth from the clowdes commaund , The fearefull foule that moues but neere the Land , Though Mary be from mightie Kings descended , My blood not from Plantaginet pretended ; My Gransire Brandon did our house aduaunce , By princely Mary , Dowager of Fraunce ; The fruite of that faire stocke which did combine , And Yorks sweet branch with Lancasters entwine , And in one stalke did happily vnite , The pure vermilion Rose , with purer white ; I the vntimely slip of that rich stem , vvhose golden bud brings forth a Diadem . But oh forgiue me Lord , it is not I , Nor doe I boast of this , but learne to die , vvhilst we were as our selues conioyned then , Nature to nature , now an alien . The purest blood , polluted is in blood , Neerenes contemn'd , if soueraignty withstood ; A Diadem once dazeling the eye , The day too darke to see affinitie ; And where the arme is stretch'd to reach a Crowne , Friendship is broke , the deerest things throwne downe ; For what great Henry most stroue to auoyde , The heauens haue built , where earth would haue destroyd , And seating Edward on his regall throne , He giues to Mary , all that was his owne , By death assuring what by life is theyrs , The lawfull claime of Henries lawfull heyres . By mortall lawes , the bound may be diuorc'd , But heauens decree , by no meanes can be forc'd , That rules the case , when men haue all decreed , vvho tooke him hence , foresaw who should succeede , In vaine be counsels , statutes , humaine lawes , vvhen chiefe of counsailes pleades the iustest cause ; Thus rule the heauens in theyr continuall course , That yeelds to fate , that doth not yeeld to force . Mans wit doth build for time but to deuoure , But vertu's free from time and fortunes power ; Then my kinde Lord , sweet Gilford be not grieu'd , The soule is heauenly , and from heauen relieu'd ; And as we once haue plighted troth together , Now let vs make exchange of mindes to eyther ; To thy faire breast take my resolued minde , Arm'd against blacke dispayre , and all her kinde , And to my bosome breathe that soule of thine , There to be made as perfect as is mine ; So shall our faith as firmely be approued , As I of thee , or thou of me beloued . This life no life , wert thou not deere to mee , Nor this no death , were I not woe for thee . Thou my deere husband , and my Lord before , But truly learne to die , thou shalt be more . Now liue by prayer , on heauen fixe all thy thought , And surely finde , what ere by zeale is sought ; For each good motion that the soule awakes , A heauenly figure sees , from whence it takes That sweet resemblance , which by power of kinde , Formes ( like it selfe ) an Image in the minde , And in our faith the operations bee , Of that diuinenes , which by fayth we see ; vvhich neuer errs , but accidentally , By our fraile fleshes imbecillitie ; By each temptation ouer-apt to slide , Except our spirit becomes our bodies guide ; For as our bodies prisons , be these towers , So to our soules , these bodies be of ours ; vvhose fleshly walls hinder that heauenly light , As these of stone depriue our wished sight , Death is the key which vnlocks miserie , And lets them out to blessed libertie . Then draw thy forces all vnto thy hart , The strongest fortresse of this earthly part ; And on these three let thy assurance lie , On fayth , repentance , and humilitie ; Humilitie to heauen , the step , the staire , Is for deuotion , sacrifice , and Prayer ; The next place doth to true repentance fall , A salue , a comfort , and a cordiall ; He that hath that , the keyes of heauen hath , That is the guide , that is the port , the path ; Faith , is thy fort , thy shield , thy strongest ayde , Neuer controld , nere yeelded , nere dismaid , vvhich doth dilate , vnfold , fore-tell , expresseth . vvhich giues , rewards , inuesteth , and possesseth . Then thanke the heauen , preparing vs this roome , Crowning our heads with glorious martirdome , Before the blacke and dismall dayes begin , The dayes of all Idolatry and sin , Not suffering vs to see that wicked age , vvhen persecution vehemently shall rage , vvhen tyrannie new tortures shall inuent , Inflicting vengeance on the innocent . Yet heauen forbids , that Maries wombe shall bring , Englands faire Scept●r to a forraine King , But vnto faire Elizabeth shall leaue it , vvhich broken , hurt , and wounded , shall receaue it ; And on her temples hauing plac'd the Crowne , Roote out the dregs Idolatry hath sowne ; And Syons glory shall againe restore , Layd ruine , wast , and desolate before ; And from black sinders , and rude heapes of stones , Shall gather vp the Martyrs scattred bones , And shall extirpe the power of Rome againe , And cast aside , the heauy yoke of Spayne . Farewell sweet Gilford , know our end is neere , Heauen is our home , we are but strangers heere . Let vs make hast to goe vnto the blest , vvhich from these weary worldly labours rest , And with these lines my deerest Lord , I greete thee , Vntill in heauen thy Iane againe shall meete thee . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . They which begot vs , did beget this sin , SHewing the ambition of the two Dukes their Fathers , whose pride was the cause of the vtter ouerthrow of theyr chyldren . At Durham Pallace where sweet Hymen sang , The buildings , &c. The Lord Gilford Dudley , fourth sonne to Iohn Dudley , Duke of Northumberland , married the Lady Iane Gray , daughter to the duke of Suffolke at Durham house in the Strand . When first mine eares were persed with the fame , Of Iane proclaimed by a Princesse name . Presently vpon the death of King Edward , the Lady Iane was taken as Queene , conueyed by water to the Tower of London for her safetie , and after proclaimed in diuers parts of the Realme , as so ordained by King Edwards Letters-pattents , and his will. My Grandsire Brandon did our house aduaunce , By princely Mary , dowager of Fraunce . Henry Gray , Duke of Suffolk , married Frauncis the eldest daughter of Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk , by the French queene , by which Frauncis he had this Lady Iane : this Mary the French Queene , vvas daughter to king Henry the seauenth , by Elizabeth his Queene , which happy mariage cōioyned the two noble families of Lancaster & York . For what great Henrie most stroue to auoyde , Noting the distrust that King Henry the eyght euer had in the Princesse Mary his daughter , ●earing she should alter the state of Religion in the Land , by matching with a stranger , confessing the right that King Henries issue had to the Crowne . And vnto faire Elizabeth shall leaue it . A prophecy of queene Maries barren●es , & of the happy & glorious raigne of Queene Elizabeth , her restoring of Religion , the abolishing of the Romish seruitude , & casting aside the yoke of Spayne . The Lord Gilford Dudley , to the Lady Iane Gray . AS Swan-like singing at thy dying howre , Such my reply , returning from this tower . O if there were such power but in my verse , As in these woes , my wounded hart doe pierce , Stones taking sence , th' obdurate flint that heares , Should at my plaints dissolue it selfe to teares . Lend me a teare , I le pay thee with a teare , And interest to , if thou the stocke forbeare ; vvoe , for a woe , and for thy interest lone , I will returne thee frankly two for one ; And if thou thinke too soone one sorrow ends , Another twice so long shall make amends . Perhaps thow'lt iudge , in such extreames as these That words of comfort might far better please , But such strange power in thy perfection liueth , As smiles in teares , and teares in gladnes giueth● Yet thinke not Iane , that cowardly I faint , As begging mercy by this sad complaint ; Or yet suppose my courage daunted so , That thou shouldst stand betwixt me , and my so , That grim-aspected death should now controule , And seeme so fearefull to my parting soule , For were one life , a thousand lifes to me , Yet were all those too few to die with thee ; vvhen thou my woes so patiently dost beare , As if in death , no cause of sorrow were , And no more doost lifes dissolution shunne , Then if cold age his longest course had runne . Thou which didst once giue comfort in my woe , Now art alone , becom my comforts foe ; Not that I leaue wherein I did delight , But that thou art debarr'd my wished sight ; For if I speake , and would complaine my wrong , Straight-waies thy name doth come into my tong● And thou art present as thou still didst lye , Or in my hart , or in my lips , or eye , No euill plannet raigned at thy birth , Nor was that houre prodigious heere on earth ; No fatall marke of froward destinie , Could be diuin'd , in thy natiuitie ; T is onely I , that did thy fall deuise , And thou by me art made a sacrifice ; As in those Countries , where the louing wiues , Doe with their husbands euer end their liues , And crown'd with garlands , in their brides attire , Goe with their husbands to that holy fire ; And she vnworthy thought to liue , of all , vvhen feare of death , or danger doth appall . I boast not of Northumberlands great name , Nor of Kets conquest , which adornes the same ; vvhen he to Norfolke led his troupes from far , And yok'd the rebels in the chaine of war , vvhen our white Beare , did furiously respire● The flames that sing'd their Villages with fire , And brought sweet peace in safety to our doores , Yet left our fame vpon the Easterne shores ; Nor of my princely brothers which might grace , And plant true honour in the Dudleys race ; Nor of Grayes match , my children borne by thee , Alied to great Plantaginet should bee ; But of thy vertues proudly boast I dare , That she is mine , whom all perections are . I crau'd no Kingdome , though I thee did craue , And hauing thee , I wish'd no more to haue . Yet let me say , how euer it befell , Me thinks a Crowne should haue becom'd thee well , Me thinks thy wisedome was ordain'd alone , To blesse a Scepter , beautifie a throme ; Thy lips a sacred Oracle retaine , vvherein all holy prophecies remaine ; More highly priz'd thy vertues were to me , Then crownes , then Kingdomes , or then Scepters b● . So chast thy loue , so innocent thy life , A wiued virgine , and a mayded wife ; The greatest gifts that heauen could giue me heere , Nothing on earth to me was halse so deere . This was the ioy wherin we liu'd of late , Ere worldly cares did vs excruciate , Before these troubles did our peace confound , By war , by weapon , massacre , or wound ; Ere dreadfull Armies did disturbe our shores , Or walls were shaken , with the Cannons roares . Suspect bewrayes our thoughts , bewrayes our words ; One Crowne is guarded with a thousand swords ; To meane estate but common woes are showne , But Crownes haue cares that euer be vnknowne , And we by them are to those dangers led , Of which the least we are experienced . VVhen Dudley led his Armies to the East , Of all the bosome of the land possest , vvhat Earthly comfort was it that he lack'd , That with a Counsels warrantie was back'd ? That had a Kingdome , and the power of lawes , Still to maintaine the iustnes of his cause ; And with the Clergies helpe , the Commons ayd , In euery place the peopled Kingdome swayd . But what ( alas ) can Parliaments auaile , vvhen Maries right , must Edwards acts repeale● VVhen suffolks power , doth Suffolks hopes withstand , Northumberland , doth leaue Northumberland . And those which should our greatnes vnder prop , Raze our foundation , ouerthrow our top . Ere greatnes come , we wish it with our hart , But being come , desire it would depart , And indiscretly follow that so fast , which when it comes , brings perrill at the last , If any man doe pittie our offence , Let him be sure to get him far from hence ; Heere is no place , no comfort heere at all , For any one that shall bewaile our fall , And we in vaine of mercy should but thinke , Our briny teares the fullen earth doth drink . O that all teares for vs should be forlorne , And all should die so soone as they be borne ; Mothers that should their childrens fortunes rue , Fathers in death too kindly bid adue ; Friends of their friends , a kind farwell to take , The faithful seruant mourning for our sake ; Brothers and sisters waiting on our Beere , Mourners to tell what we were liuing heere ; Those eares are stopt which should bewaile our fall , And wee the Mourners , and the dead and all ; And that which first our Pallace was ordain'd , The prison , which our libertie restrain'd , And where our Court we held in princely state , There now alone , are left disconsolate Thus then resolu'd , as thou , resolu'd am I. Die thou for me , and I for thee will die ; And yet that heauen Elizabeth may blesse , Be thou ( sweet Iane ) a faithfull Prophetesse , VVith that health gladly resaluting thee , VVhich thy kind farwell wish'd before to mee . Notes of the Chronicle Historie . Nor of Kets conquest , which adornes the same . IOhn Duke of Northumberland , when before he was Earle of Warwicke in his expedition against Ket , ouerthrew the rebels of Norfolk and suffolk , encamped at Mount-Surrey in Norfolke . Nor of my princely brothers which might grace , Gilford Dudley as remembring in this place the towardnesse of his brothers , which were all likely indeed to haue raised that house of the Dudleyes , of which he was a fourth brother , if not suppressed by their Fathers ouerthrow . Nor of Grayes match , my children borne by thee , Noting in this place the alliance of the Ladie Iane Gray , by her mother , which was Frauncis the daughter of Charles Brandon , by Mary the French Queene , daughter to Henry the seuenth , and sister to Henry the eight . To blesse a Septer , beautifie a threne , Sildome hath it euer been known of any woman endued with such wonderfull gifts , as was this Ladie , both for her wisedome and learning , of whose skill in the tongues one reporteth by this Epigram . Miraris Ianam Graio , sermone ●alere , Qu● primum nata est tempore Graia Fuit . When Dudley led his armies to the East . The Duke of Northumberland prepared his power at London for his expedition against the Rebels in Norfolke , and making hast away , appointed the rest of his forces to meete him at Newmarket Heath : of whom this saying is reported , that passing through Shorditch , the Lord Gray in his company , seeing the people in great numbers , came to see him , hee said , the people presse to see vs , but none bid God speede vs. That with the Counsels warranty was back'd , Iohn Dudley Duke of Northumberland , when he went out against Queene Mary , had his Commission sealed for the generalship of the Armie , by the consent of the whole Counsell of the Land ; insomuch that passing through the Counsell chamber at his departure , the Earle of Arondell wished that he might haue gone with him in that expedition , and to spend his blood in the quarrell . When suffolks power doth Suffolks hopes withstand , Northumberland doth leaue Northumberland . The Suffolke men were the first , that euer resotted to Queene Mary in her destresse , repairing to her succours , whilst she remained both at Keningall and at Fermingham Castle , still increasing her aydes , vntill the Duke of Northumberland , was left forsaken at Cambridge . FINIS . Idea . THE worlds faire Rose , and Henries frosty fire , Iohns tyranny ; and chast Matilda's wrong , Th' inraged Queene , and furious Mortimer , The scourge of Fraunce , and his chast loue I song ; Deposed Richard , Isabell exil'd , The gallant Tudor , and faire Katherine , Duke Humfrey , and old Cobhams haplesse child , Couragious Pole , and that braue spiritfull Queene , Edward , and the delicious London Dame , Brandon , and that rich dowager of Fraunce , Surrey , with his faire paragon of fame , Dudleys mishap , and vertuous Grayes mischaunce ; Their seuerall loues since I before haue showne , Now giue me leaue , at last to sing mine owne . To the Reader of his Poems . Sonnet . 2. INto these loues who but for passion lookes , At this first sight , heere let them lay them by , And seeke else-where in turning other bookes , vvhich better may his labour satisfie . No far-fetch'd sigh shall euer wound my brest , Loue from mine eye , a teare shall neuer wring , Nor in ah-mees my whining Sonnets drest , ( A Libertine ) fantastickly I sing ; My verse is the true image of my mind , Euer in motion , still desiring change , To choyce of all varietie inclin'd , And in all humors sportiuely I range ; My actiue Muse is of the worlds right straine , That cannot long one fashion entertaine . Sonnet . 3. MAny there be excelling in this kind , vvhose well-trick'd rimes with all inuention swell , Let each commend as best shall like his minde , Some Sidney , Constable , some Daniell . That thus their names familiarly I sing , Let none thinke them disparaged to be , Poore men with reuerence may speake of a King , And so may these be spoken of by me ; My wanton verse neere keepes one certaine stay , But now , at hand ; then , seekes inuention far , And with each little motion runnes a stray , vvilde , madding , iocond , and irreguler ; Like me that lust , my honest merry rimes , Nor care for Criticke , nor regard the times . Sonnet . 4. THine eyes taught me the Alphabet of loue , To con my Crosrow ere I learn'd to spell , For I was apt , a Scholler like to proue , Gaue me sweet lookes when as I learned well , Vowes were my vowels when I then begun At my first lesson in thy sacred name , My consonants the next when I had done , VVords consonant , and sounding to thy fame ; My liquids then , were liquid Christall teares , My cares my mutes , so mute to craue releefe , My dolefull Dipthongs , were my lifes dispaires Redoubling sighs , the accents of my greefe ; My Loues Schoole-mistres now hath taught me so , That I can read a storie of my woe . Sonet . 5. MY hart was slaine , and none but you and I , vvho should I thinke the murder should commit ? Since but your selfe , there was no creature by But onely I , guiltlesse of murth'ring it . It slew it selfe ; the verdict on the view Doe quit the dead and me not accessary ; VVell , well , I feare it will be prou'd by you , The euidence so great a proofe doth carry . But ● , see , see , we need enquire no further , Vpon your lips the scarlet drops are found , And in your eye , the boy that did the murther , Your cheekes yet pale since first they gaue the wound , BY this , I see , how euer things be past , Yet heauen will still haue murther out at last . Sonnet . 6. TAking my pen , with words to cast my woes , Duly to count the sum of all my cares I finde , my griefe innumerable growes , The reckonings rise to millions of dispaires ; And thus deuiding of my fatall houres , The payments of my loue I reade , and crosse Substracting , set my sweets vnto my sowers , My ioyes are rage leades me to my losse ; And thus mine eyes a debtour to thine eye , vvhich by extortion gaineth all their lookes , My hart hath paid such grieuous vsurie , That all his wealth lies in thy beauties bookes ; And all is thine which hath beene due to mee , And I a Bankrupt , quite vndone by thee . An allusion to Narcissus . Sonnet . 7. BEauty sometime in all her glorie crowned , Passing by that cleere fountaine of thine eye , Her sun-shine face there chauncing to espie , Forgot herselfe , deeming shee had beene drowned , And thus whilst Beautie , on her beautie gazed , vvho then ( yet liuing ) thought she had been dying ; And yet in death some hope of life espying , vvith her owne rare perfections so amazed , Twixt ioy and griefe , yet with a smiling frowning , The glorious sun-beames of her eyes bright shining , And she on her owne desteny diuining , Cast in herselfe , to saue herselfe by drowning ; The vvell of Nectar , pau'd with pearle and gold , vvhere she remaines for all eyes to behold . Sonnet . 8. NOthing but no and I , and I and no , How falls it out so strangely you reply ? I tell ye ( Faire ) I le not be aunswered so , vvith this a●firming no , denying I , I say I loue , you slightly aunswere I , I say you loue , you pule me out a no ; I say I die , you eccho me with I , Saue me I cry , you sigh me out a no : Must woe and I , haue naught but no and I ? No , I am I , if I no more can haue , Aunswere no more , with silence make reply , And let me take my selfe what I doe traue ; Let no and I , with I and you be so , Then aunswere no , and I , and I , and no. To Harmonie . Sonnet . 9. LOue once would daunce within my Mistres eye , And wanting musique fitting for the place , Swore that I should the instrument supply , And suddainly presents me with her face ; Straightwayes my pulse playe liuely in my vaines , My panting breath doth keepe a meaner time , My quau'ring artiers be the Tenours straines , My trembling sinewes serue the Counterchime , My hollow sighs the deepest base doe beare , True diapazon in distincted sound ; My panting hart the treble makes the ayre , And descants finely on the musiques ground ; Thus like a Lute or Violl did I lie , vvhilst he proud slaue daunc'd galliards in her eye . Sonnet . 10. LOue in an humor plaid the prodigall , And bids my sences to a solemne feast , Yet more to grace the companie withall , Inuites my hart to be the chiefest guest ; No other drinke would serue this gluttons turne But precious teares distilling from mine eyne , vvhich with my sighs this Epicure doth burne , Quaffing carouses in this costly vvine , vvhere , in his cups or ' come with foule excesse , Begins to play a swaggering Ruffins part , And at the banquet , in his drunkennes Slew my deere friend , his kind and truest hart ; A gentle warning friends , thus may you see vvhat 't is to keepe a drunkard company . To the Moone . Sonnet . 11. PHoebe looke downe , and heere behold in mee , The elements within thy sphere inclosed , How kindly Nature plat'd them vnder thee , And in my world , see how they are disposed ; My hope is earth , the lowest , cold and dry , The grosser mother of deepe melancholie , vvater my teares , coold with humiditie , vvan , flegmatick , inclind by nature wholie ; My sighs , the ayre , hote , moyst , ascending hier , Subtile of sanguine , dy'de in my harts dolor , My thoughts , they be the element of fire , Hote , dry , and percing , still inclind to choller , Thine eye the Orbe vnto all these , frō whence Proceeds th' effects of powerfull influence . To Lunacie . Sonnet . 12. AS other men , so I my selfe doe muse , vvhy in this sort I wrest Inuention so , And why these giddy metaphors I vse , Leauing the path the greater part doe goe ; I will resolue you ; I am lunaticke , And euer this in mad men you shall finde , vvhat they last thought on when the braine grew sick , In most distraction keepe that still in minde . Thus talking idely in this bedlam fit , Reason and I , ( you must conceiue ) are twaine , T is nine yeees , now , since first I lost my wit , Beare with me then , though troubled be my braine ; vvith diet and correction , men distraught , ( Not too farre past ) may to their wits be brought . Sonnet . 13. TO nothing fitter can I thee compare , Then to the sonne of some rich penny-father , vvho hauing now brought on his end with care , Leaues to his sonne all he had heap'd together ; This newe rich nouice , lauifh of his chest , To one man giues , and on another spends , Then heere he ryots , yet amongst the rest , Haps to send some to one true honest friend . Thy gifts thou in obscuritie doost wast , False friends thy kindnes , borne but to deceiue thee , Thy loue● that is on the vnworthy plac'd , Time hath thy beautie , which with age will leaue thee ; Onely that little which to me was lent , I giue thee back , when all the rest is spent . Sonnet . 14. YOu not alone , when you are still alone , O God from you that I could priuate be , Since you one were , I never since was one , Since you in me , my selfe since out of me Transported from my selfe into your beeing Though either distant , present yet to eyther , Sencelesse with too much ioy , each other seeing , And onely absent when we are together . Giue me my selfe , and take your selfe againe , Deuise some meanes but how I may forsake you , So much is mine that doth with you remaine , That taking what is mine , with me I take you , You doe bewitch me , ● that I could flie From my selfe you , or from your own selfe I. To the Soule . Sonnet . 15. THat learned Father which so firmly proues The soule of man immortall & diuine , And doth the seuerall offices define , Anima . Giues her that name as she the body moues , Amor. Then is she loue imbracing Charitie , Animus . Mouing a will in vs , it is the minde , Mens . Retaining knowledge , still the same in kinde ; Memoria . As intellectuall it is the memorie , Ratio . In iudging , Reason onely is her name , Sensus . In speedy apprehension it is sence , Conscientia . In right or wrong , they call her conscience . Spiritus . The spirit , when it to Godward doth inflame . These of the soule the seuerall functions bee , vvhich my hart lightned by thy loue doth see . To the shaddow . Sonnet . 16. LEtters and lines we see are soone defaced , Mettles do waste , & fret with cankers rust , The Diamond shall once consume to dust , And freshest colours with foule staines disgraced , Paper and incke , can paint but naked words , To write with blood , of force offends the sight , And i● with teares , I find them all too light , And sighes and signes , a silly hope affords . O sweetest Shadow , how thou feru'st my turne , vvhich still shalt be , as long as there is Sunne , Nor whilst the world is , neuer shall be done , vvhilst Moone shal shine , or any fire shal burne● That euery thing whence shadow doth proceed , May in his shadow , my loues story reade . Sonnet . 17. IF hee from heauen that filch'd that liuing fire , Condemn'd by loue to endlesse torment be , I greatly meruaile how you still goe free That farre beyond Promethius did aspire ? The fire he stole , although of heauenly kinde , vvhich from aboue he craftily did take , Of liueles clods vs liuing men to make , Againe bestow'd in temper of the mind . But you broke in to heauens immortall store , vvhere vertue , honour , wit , and beautie lay , vvhich taking thence , you haue escap'd away , Yet stand as free as ere you did before , But old Promethius punish'd for his rape , Thus poore theeues suffer , when the greater scape . Sonnet . 18. VIewing the glasse of my youths miseries , I see the face of my deformed cares , VVi●h withered browes , all wrinckled with dispayres , That for my youth the teares fall from mine eyes , Then in these teares , the mirrors of these eyes , Thy fairest youth and beautie doe I see , Imprinted there by looking still on thee ; Thus midst my woes , ten thousand ioyes arise . Yet in these ioyes the shadowes of my good , In this ●a●re limmed ground as white as snow Painted the blackest image of my woe , vvith murthering hands imbru'd in mine owne blood , And in this image his darke clowdy eyes , My life , and loue , I here anatomize . To the Phenix . Sonnet . 19. WIthin the compasse of this spacious round Amongst all birds the Phenix is alone , VVhich but by you could neuer haue beene knowne , None like to that , none like to you is found , Heape your owne vertues seasoned by their sunne , On heauenly top of your diuine desire ; Then with your beautie set the same on fire , So by your death , your life shall be begunne . Your selfe thus burned in this sacred flame , VVith your owne sweetnes all the heauens persuming , And still encreasing as you are consuming , Shall spring againe from th' ashes of your fame , And mounting vp , shall to the heauens ascend , So may you liue , past world , past fame , past end . To Time. Sonnet . 20. STay , stay , sweet Time , behold or ere thou passe From world to world , thou long hast sought to see , That wonder now where in all wonders be , vvhere heauen beholds her in a mortall glasse . Nay , looke thee Time in this celestiall glasse , And th● youth past , in this faire mirrour see , The first worlds beautie in the infancie , vvhat it was then , what thou before it was . Now passe on Time , to after worlds tell this . ( And yet shalt tell ) but trulie what hath beene , That they may say , what former time hath seene , And heauen may ioy to think on past worlds blis . Heere make a Period Time , and say for me , She was , whose like againe shall neuer be . To the Celestiall numbers . Sonnet . 21. VNto the world , to learning , and to heauen , Three nines there are , to euerie one a nine , One number of the earth , the other both diuine , One woman now makes three od numbers euen● Nine orders first of Angels be in heauen , Nine Muses doe with learning still frequent , These with the Gods are euer resident ; Nine worthy ones vnto the world were giuen● My worthy one to these nine worthies , addeth , And my faire Muse , one Muse vnto the nine ; And my good Angell in my soule diuine , with one more order , these nine orders gladdeth , My muse , my worthy , & my Angell then , Makes euery one of these three nines a ten . To Humour . Sonnet . 22. YOu cannot loue my prettie hart , and why● There was a time you told me that you would , But now againe you will the same deny , If it might pease you , would to God you could ; VVhat will you hate ? nay that you will not neither , Nor loue , nor hate , how then ? what will you doe , VVhat will you keepe a meane then betwixt eyther ? Or will you loue me , and yet hate me to ? Yet serues not this , what next , what other shift ? You will , and will not , what a coyle is heere ? I see your craft , now I perceiue your drift , And all this while , I was mistaken there● Your loue in hate is this , I now doe proue you , You loue in hate , by hate to make me loue you . Sonnet . 23. AN euill spirit your beautie haunts me still , vvhere-with ( alas ) I haue been long possest , vvhich ceaseth not to tempt me vnto ill , Nor giues me once but one poore minutes rest . In me it speakes , whether I sleepe or wake , And when by meanes to driue it out I try vvith greater torments then it me doth take , And tortures me in most extreamitie Before my face , it layes all my dispaires , And hasts me on vnto a suddaine death ; Now tempting me , to drowne my selfe in teares , And then in sighing to giue vp my breath ; Thus am I still prouok'd to euerie euill , By this good wicked spirit , sweet Angel deuill . To the Spheares . Sonnet . 24. THou which doost guide this little world of loue , Thy planets mansions heere thou mayst behold , My brow the spheare where Saturne still doth moue , vvrinkled with cares ; and withered , dry , and cold ; Mine eyes the Orbe where Iupiter doth trace , vvhich gently smile because they looke on thee , Mars in my swartie visage takes his place , Made leane with loue , where furious conflicts bee . Sol in my breast with his hote scorching flame , But in my hart alone doth Venus raigne ; Mercury my hands , the Organs of my fame , Luna my wauering and vnconstant vaine ; The starry heauen thy praise by me exprest , Thou the first moouer , guiding all the rest . To Folly. Sonnet . 25. WIth fooles and children good discretion beares , Then honest people , beare with Loue and me , Nor older yet , nor wiser made by yeeres , Amongst the rest of fooles and children be , Loues still a Baby , playes with gaudes and toyes , And like a wanton sports with euery feather , And Idiots still are running after boyes , Then fooles and children fitt'st to goe together ; He still as young as when he first was borne , No wiser I , then when as young as he , You that behold vs , laugh vs not to scorne , Giue Nature thanks you are not such as we ; Yet fooles and children sometimes tell in play , Some wise in showe , more fooles in deede , then they . Sonnet . 26. LOue banish'd heauen , in earth was held in scorne , vvandring abroad in neede and beggery , And wanting friends , though of a Goddesse borne , Yet crau'd the almes of such as passed by , I like a man , deuout and charitable ; Clothed the naked , lodg'd this wandring guest , vvith sighs and teares still furnishing his table , vvith what might make the miserable blest ; But this vngratefull for my good desart , Entic'd my thoughts against me to conspire , vvho gaue consent to steale away my hart , And set my breast his lodging on a fire : vvell , well , my friends , when beggers grow thus bold , No meruaile then though charity grow cold . Sonnet . 27. I Heare some say , this man is not in loue , vvho , can he loue ? a likely thing they say : Reade but his verse , and it will easly proue ; O iudge not rashly ( gentle Sir ) I pray , Because I loosely tryfle in this sort , As one that faine his sorrowes would beguile : You now suppose me , all this time in sport , And please your selfe with this conceit the while . You shallow censures ; sometime see you not In greatest perills some men pleasant be , vvhere same by death is onely to be got , They resolute , so stands the case with me ; vvhere other men , in depth of passion cry● I laugh at fortune , as in lest to die . Sonnet . 28. O VVhy should nature nigardly restraine , The Sotherne Nations relish not our tongue , Else should my lines glide on the vvaues of Rhene , And crowne the Pirens with my liuing song ; But bounded thus to Scotland get you forth ; Thence take you wing vnto the Orcades , There let my verse get glorie in the North , Making my sighs to thaw the frozen seas , And let the Bards within that Irish I le , To whom my Muse with fierie wings shall passe , Call backe the stiffe-neck'd rebells from exile , And molifie the slaughtering Galliglasse ; And when my flowing numbers they rehearse , Let VVoules and Beares be charmed with my verse . To Despaire . Sonnet . 29. I Euer loue , where neuer hope appeares , Yet hope drawes on my neuer-hoping care , And my lifes hope would die but for dispaire , My neuer-certaine ioy , breedes euer-certaine feares , Vncertaine-dread , giues wings vnto my hope , Yet my hopes wings are loden so with feare , As they cannot ascend to my hopes spheare , Yet feare giues them more then a heauenly scope ; Yet this large roome is bounded with dispaire , So my loue is still fettered with vaine hope , And libertie depriues him of his scope , And thus am I imprison'd in the ayre ; Then sweet Dispaire , a while hold vp thy head , Or all my hope for sorrow will be dead . To Fantasie . Sonnet . 30. I Gaue my faith to Loue , loue his to me , That he & I , sworne brothers should remaine , Thus faith receau'd , faith giuen back againe , vvho would imagine bond more sure could be ? Loue flies to her , yet holds he my faith taken , As from my vertue raysing my offence , Making me guiltie by mine innocence ; And onely bond by beeing so forsaken , He makes her aske what I before had vow'd , Giuing her that , which he had giuen me , I bound by him , and he by her made free . vvho euer so hard breach of faith alow'd ? Speake you that should of right and wrong discusse , vvas right ere wrong'd , or wrong ere righted thus ? Sonnet . 31. TO such as say thy loue I ouer-prize , And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly , Against these folks that think themselues so wise , I thus appose my force of reason wholly , Though I giue more , then well affords my state , In which expense the most suppose me vaine , vvould yeeld them nothing at the easiest rate , Yet at this price , returnes me treble gaine , The value not , vnskilfull how to vse , And I giue much , because I gaine thereby , I that thus take , or they that thus refuse , vvhether are these deceaued then , or I ? In euery thing I hold this maxim still , The circumstance doth make it good or ill . To Contrarietie . Sonnet . 32. THose teares quench hope , doe kindle my desire , Those sighs coole harts , are coales vnto my loue , Icie disdaine , is to my soule a fire , And yet all these I contrary doe proue ; Desire doth make hope burne , and dryeth teares , Loue heates my hart , which my sighs ●ly warmeth vvith my soules gleed ; disdaine is spent to ayres , It hurts and heales , it helpeth , and it harmeth , My hope becomes a friend to my desire ; My hart imbraceth loue , and loue my hart . Disdaine a Phaenix is in my soules fire , And vow from other , neuer to depart ; Such peacefull conflicts stirring in my life , Foes liue in concord , and friends still at strife . To the Sences . Sonnet . 33. WHen conquering loue did first my hart assaile , Vnto mine ayde I summond'd euery sence , Doubting if that proud tyrant should preuaile , My hart should suffer for mine eyes offence ; But he with beauty , first corrupted sight , My hearing brib'd with her tongues harmony , My taste , by her sweet lips drawne with delight , My smelling wonne with her breaths spicerie ; But when my touching came to play his part , ( The King of sences , greater then the rest ) Hee yeelds loue vp the keyes vnto my hart , And tells the other how they should be blest ; And thus by those of whom I hop'd for ayde , To cruell Loue my soule was first betrayde . To the Vestalls . Sonnet . 34. THose Priests , which first the Vestall fire begun , vvhich might be borrowed from no earthly flame , Deuis'd a vessell to receaue the sunne , Beeing stedfastly opposed to the same ; vvhere , vvith sweet wood , layd curiously by Art , vvhereon the sunne might by reflection beate , Receauing strength from euery secret part , The fuell kindled with celestiall heate . Thy blessed eyes , the sunne which lights this fire , My holy thoughts , they be the Vestall flame , The precious odors be my chast desire , My breast the fuell which includes the same ; Thou art my Vesta , thou my Goddesse art , Thy hollowed Temple , onely is my hart . Sonnet . 35. ME thinks I see some crooked Mimick ieere , And taxe my Muse with this fantastick grace , Turning my papers , askes what haue we heere ? Making withall , some filthy anticke face ; I feare no censure , nor what thou canst say , Nor shall my spirit one iote of vigor lose , Think'st thou my wit shall keepe the pack-horse way , That euery dudgen low inuention goes ? Since Sonnets thus in bundles are imprest , And euery drudge doth dull our satiate eare , Think'st thou my Loue , shall in those rags be drest That euery dowdy , euery trull doth weare ? Vnto my pitch no common iudgement flies , I scorne all earthly dung-bred scarabies . To the Riuer Ank●r . Sonnet . 36. OVr floods Queene Thames , for ships & Swans is crowned , And stately Seuerne , for her shores is praised , The christall Trent , for Foords and fish renowned , And Auons fame , to Albyons Cliues is raised . Carlegion Chester , vaunts her holy Dee , Yorke many wonders of her Ouse can tell , The Peaker her Doue , whose banks for fertile bee , And Kent will say , her Medway doth excell , Cotswoold commends her Isis and her Tame , Our Northerne borders boast of Tweeds faire flood , Our VVesterne parts extoll her VVilys fame , And old Legea brags of Danish blood ; Ardens sweet Ankor let thy glory bee , That faire Idea she doth liue by thee . To Imagination . Sonnet . 37. WHilst yet mine eyes do surfet with delight , My wofull hart imprison'd in my brest , VVisheth to be transformed in my sight , That is like those , by looking might be blest , But whilst mine eyes thus greedily doe gaze , Finding their obiects ouer-soone depart , These now the others happines doe praise , vvishing themselues that they had been my hart , That eyes were hart , or that the hart were eyes , As couetous the others vse to haue ; But finding reason , their request denies , This to each other mutually they craue , That since the one cannot the other bee , That eyes could thinke , or that my hart could see . To admiration . Sonnet . 38. MAruaile not Loue , though I thy power admire , Rauish'd a world beyond the farthest thought , That knowing more then euer hath been taught , That I am onely staru'd in my desire ; Maruaile not Loue , though I thy power admire , Ayming at things exceeding all perfection , To wisedoms selfe to minister direction , That I am onely staru'd in my desire ; Maruaile not Loue , though I thy power admire , Though my conceit I further seeme to bend , Then possibly inuention can extend , And yet am onely staru'd in my desire ; If thou wilt wonder , heer 's the wonder Loue , That this to me doth yet no wonder proue . To Miracle . Sonnet . 39. SOme misbeleeuing , and prophane in loue , VVhen I doe speake of miracles by thee , May say that thou art flattered by mee , vvho onely write , my skill in verse to proue . See miracles , ye vnbeleeuing see , A dumb-borne Muse , made to expresse the mind , A cripple hand to write , yet lame by kind , One by thy name , the other touching thee , Blinde were mine eyes , till they were seene of thine , And mine eares deafe , by thy same healed be , My vices cur'd , by vertues sprung from thee , My hopes reuiu'd which long in graue had line . All vncleane thoughts , foule spirits cast out in mee , Onely by vertue that proceedes from thee . To wonder . Sonnet . 40. REading sometime , my sorrowes to beguile , I finde old Poets hills and floods admire , One , he doth wonder monster-breeding Nyle , Another , maruailes Sulphure AEtnas fire . Now broad-brimd Indus , then of Pindus height , Pelion and Ossa , frosty Caucase old , The Delian Cynthus , then Olympus weight , Slow Arrer , frantick Gallus , Cydnus cold . Some Ganges , Ister , and of Tagus tell , Some whirl-poole Po , and sliding Hypasis , Some old pernassus , where the Muse dwell , Some Helicon , and some faire Simois ; A fooles thinke I , had you Idea seene , Poore brookes and banks , had no such wonders been● . Sonnet . 41. DEere , why should you commaund me to my rest VVhen now the night doth summon all to sleepe ? Me thinks this time becommeth Louers best , Night was ordaind together friends to keepe . How happy are all other liuing thing , VVhich though the day disioyne by seuerall flight , The quiet euening yet together brings , And each returnes vnto his loue at night . O thou that art so curteous vnto all , VVhy shouldst thou Night abuse me onely thus , That euery creature to his kinde doost call , And yet t is thou doost onely seuer vs. VVell could I wish it would be euer day , If when night comes you bid me goe away . Sonnet . 42. SItting alone , loue bids me goe and write , Reason plucks backe , commaunding me to stay , Boasting that shee doth still direct the way , Or else loue were vnable to endite ; Loue growing angry , vexed at the spleene , And scorning Reasons maimed argument , Straight taxeth Reason , wanting to inuent , vvhere shee with Loue conuersing hath not been ? Reason reproched with this coy disdaine , Dispighteth Loue , and laugheth at her follie . And Loue contemning Reasons reason whollie , Thought it in weight too light by manie a graine . Reason put backe , doth out of sight remoue , And loue alone , findes reason in my loue . Sonnet . 43. SOme , when in rime they of their loues doe tell , vvith flames and lightning their exordiums paint , Some call on heauen , ●ome inuocate on hell , And Fates & Fur●es with their woes acquaint . Elizium is too high a seate for mee , I will not come in Stix or Phlegiton , The thrice three Muses but too wanton be , Like they that lust , I care not , I will none . Spightfull Errinis frights mee with her lookes , My manhood dares not with foule Ate mell , I quake to looke on Heccats charming bookes , I still feare bugbeares in Apollos Cell . I passe not for Minerua nor Astrea , Onely I call vpon diuine Idea . Sonnet . 44. MY hart the Anuile where my thoughts doe beate , My words the hammers , fashioning my desire , My breast the forge , including all the heate , Loue is the fuell which maintaines the fire , My sighes the bellowes which the flame increaseth , Filling mine eares with noise and nightlie groning , Toyling with paine , my labour neuer ceaseth , In greeuous passions my woes still bemoning . Mine eyes with teares against the fire striuing , vvhose scorching gleed my hart to cinders turneth ; But with those drops , the flame againe reuiuing , Still more and more vnto my torment burneth . VVith Sisiphus thus doe I role the stone , And turne the wheele with damned ●xion . Sonnet . 45. WHy doe I speake of ioy , or write of loue , vvhen my hart is the very den of horror , And in my soule the paines of hell I proue , vvith all his torments , and infernall terror ? VVhat should I say , what yet remaines to doe ? My braine is dry with weeping all too long , My sighes be spent in vttring of my woe , And I want words wher-with to tell my wrong , But still distracted in loues Lunacie , And Bedlam like thus rauing in my greefe , Now raile vpon her haire , now on her eye , Now call her Goddesse , then I call her theefe , Now I denie her , then I doe confesse her , Now doe I curse her , then againe I blesse her . Sonnet . 46. MY loue makes hote the fire whose heate is spent , The water , moisture from my teares deriueth ; And my strong sighes , the ayres weake force re●iueth ; This loue , tears , sighs , maintaine each one his element● The fire , vnto my loue , compare a painted fire , The water to my teares , as drops to Oceans be , The ayre vnto my sighs , as Eagle to the flie , The passions of dispaire , but ioyes to my desire . Onely my loue is in the fire ingraued , Onely my teares by Oceans may be gessed , Onely my sighes are by the ayre expressed , Yet fire , water , ayre , of nature not depriued . VVhilst fire , water , ayre , twixt heauen & earth shall be , My loue , my teares , my sighes , extinguisht cannot be . Sonnet . 47. SOme men there be , which like my method well , And doe commend the strangenes of my vaine , Some say , I haue a passing pleasing straine , Some say , that in my humor I excell : Some , who not kindly relish my conceite , They say ( as Poets doe ) I vse to faine , And in bare words paint out my passions paine . Thus sundry men , their sundry minds repeate . I passe not I , how men affected be , Nor who commends , or discommends my verse . It pleaseth me , if I my woes rehearse , And in my lines , if she my loue may see . Onely my comfort still consists in this , VVriting her praise , I cannot write amisse . Sonnet . 48. WHilst thus my pen striues to eternize thee , Age rules my lines with wrincles in my face , VVhere in the Map of all my miserie Is modeld out the world of my disgrace , vvhilst in despight of tyrannizing times , Medea like I make thee young againe , Proudly thou scorn'st my world-outwearing rimes , And murther'st vertue with thy coy disdaine ; And though in youth , my youth vntimely perrish , To keepe thee from obliuion and the graue , Ensuing ages yet my rimes shall cherrish , VVhen I entomb'd my better part shall saue ; And though this earthly body fade and die , My name shall mount vpon eternitie . Sonnet . 49. MVses which sadlie sit about my chaire , Drownd in the teares extorted by my lines , vvith heauie sighs whilst thus I breake the ayre , Painting my passions in these sad dissignes , Since she disdaines to blesse my happie verse , The strong built Trophies to her liuing fame , Euer hence-forth my bosome be your hearse , vvherein the world shall now entombe her name , Enclose my musicke you poore sencelesse walls , Sith shee is dease and will not heare my mones , Soften your selues with euerie teare that falls , vvhilst I like Orpheus sing to trees and stones ; vvhich with my plaints seeme yet with pittie moued , Kinder then shee who I so long haue loued . Sonnet . 50. CVpid , dumb Idoll , peeuish saint of loue , No more shalt thou nor saint nor Idoll be , No God art thou , Loues Goddesse she doth proue , Of all thine honour she hath robbed thee . Thy bowe halfe broke , is peec'd with old desire , Her bow is beautie with ten thousand strings , And euery one of purest golden wyer , The least of force to conquer hoasts of Kings . Thy shafts be spent , and she ( to war appointed ) Hides in those christall quiuers of her eyes , More arrowes with hart-piercing mettle pointed , Then there be stars at midnight in the skyes . vvith these , she steales mens harts for her releefe , Yet happie hee that 's robd of such a theefe . Sonnet . 51. THou leaden braine which censur'st what I write , And say'st my lines be dull , and doe not moue , I meruaile not thou feel'st not my delight , vvhich neuer feltst my fierie tuch of loue . But thou whose pen hath like a Pack-horse seru'd , vvhose stomack vnto gaule hath turn'd thy foode , vvhose sences like poore prisoners hunger-staru'd , vvhose griefe hath parch'd thy body , dry'd thy blood . Thou which hast scorned life , and hated death , And in a moment mad , sober , glad , and sorry , Thou which hast band thy thoughts & curst thy birth , vvith thousand plagues more then in purgatorie . Thou thus whose spirit Loue in his fire refines , Come thou and read , admire , applaud my line● . An alusion to Dedalus and Icarus . Sonnet . 52. MY hart imprisoned in a hopelesse I le , Peopled with Armies of pale iealous eyes , The shores beset with thousand secret spies , Must passe by ayre , or else die in exile , He fram'd him wings with feathers of his thought , vvhich by their nature learn'd to mount the skie , And with the same he practised to flie , Till he himselfe this Eagles Art had taught , Thus soring still , not looking once below , So neere thine eyes celestiall sunne aspired , That with the rayes his wafting pineons fired . Thus was the wanton cause of his owne woe , Downe fell he in thy beauties Ocean drenched , Yet there he burnes , in fire that 's neuer quenched . Another to the Riuer Ankor . Sonnet . 53. CLeere Ankor , on whose siluer-sanded shore , My soule shrin'd Saint , my faire Idea lyes . O blessed Brooke , whose milk-white Swans adore That Christall streame refined by her eyes . VVhere sweet Mirrh-breathing Zephire in the spring , Gently distils his Nectar-dropping showers , vvhere Nightingales in Arden sit and sing , Amongst those daintie dew-empearled flowers ; Say thus faire Brooke when thou shalt see thy Queene , Loe heere thy sheepheard spent his wandring yeeres ; And in these shades deere Nimph he oft hath beene , And heere to thee he sacrifiz'd his teares . Faire Arden , thou my Tempe art alone , And thou sweet Ankor art my Helicon . Sonnet . 54. YEt reade at last the storie of my woe , The drery abstracts of my endlesse cares ; vvith my lifes sorrow enterlined so , Smok'd with my sighes , and blotted with my teares , The sad memorialls of my miseries , Pend in the griefe of mine afflicted ghost ; My lifes complaint in dolefull Elegies , vvith so pure loue as time could neuer boast . Receaue the Incense which I offer heere , By my strong faith ascending to thy fame , My zeale , my hope , my vowes , my praise , my prayer , My soules oblations to thy sacred name . VVhich name my Muse to highest heauen shall raise , By chast desire , true loue , and vertues praise . Sonnet . 55 MY Faire , if thou wilt register my loue , More then worlds volumes shall thereof arise , Preserue my teares , and thou thy selfe shalt proue A second flood downe rayning from mine eyes . None but my sighs , and thine eyes shall behold , The sun-beames smothered with immortall smoke : And if by thee my prayers may be enrold , They heauen and earth to pittie shall prouoke . Looke thou into my breast , and thou shalt see , Chast holy vowes for my soules sacrifice ; That soule ( sweete Maide ) which so hath honored thee , Erecting Trophies to thy sacred eyes . Those eyes to my hart shining euer bright , vvhen darknes hath obscur'd each other light . An alusion to the Eaglets . Sonnet . 56. MY thoughts bred vp with Eagle-birds of loue , And for their vertues I desir'd to know , Vpon the nest I set them , forth to proue , If they were of the Eagles kinde or no. But they no sooner saw my sunne appeare , But on her rayes with gazing eyes they stood , vvhich proou'd my birds delighted in the ayre , And that they came of this rare kingly brood . But now their plumes full sumd with sweet desire , To shew their kind , began to clime the skyes : Doe what I could , my Eaglets would aspire , Straight mounting vp to thy celestiall eyes . And thus ( my Faire ) my thoughts away be flowne , And from my breast into thine eyes be gone . Sonnet . 57. MY Faire , had I not erst adorn'd my Lute , vvith those sweet strings stolne from thy golden haire , Vnto the world had all my ioyes beene mute , Nor had I learn'd to descant on my Faire . Had not mine eye seene thy celestiall eye , Nor my hart knowne the power of thy name , I had beene buried to posteritie , Thy beauties yet vnregistred by same . But thy diuine perfections by their skill , This miracle ( loe ) on my Muse haue tried , And haue inspir'd a furie in my quill , That in my verse thou liuest deified . That from thy selfe the cause is thus deriued , That by thy selfe , thy selfe shall be suruiued . To Prouerbe . Sonnet . 58. AS Loue and I , late harbour'd in one Inne , VVith Prouerbs thus each other intertaine ; In loue there is no lacke , thus I beginne ? Faire words makes fooles , replieth he againe ? That spares to speake , doth spare to speed ( quoth I ) As well ( saith he ) too forward as too slow . Fortune assists the boldest , I replie ? A hasty man ( quoth he ) nere wanted woe . Labour is light where loue ( quoth I ) doth pay , ( Saith he ) light burthens heauy , if farre borne ? ( Quoth I ) the maine lost , cast the by away : You haue spunne a faire thred , he replies in scorne . And hauing thus a while each other thwarted , Fooles as we met , so fooles againe we parted . Sonet . 59. DEfine my loue , and tell the ioyes of heauen , Expresse my woes , and shew the paines of hell , Declare what Fate vnluckie starres haue giuen , And aske a world vpon my life to dwell . Make knowne that faith , vnkindnes could not moue , Compare my worth with others base desert , Let vertue be the tuch-stone of my loue , So may the heauens reade wonders in my hart . Behold the clouds which haue eclips'd my sunne , And view the crosses which my course doth let , Till me , if euer since the world begunne , So faire a rising had so foule a set ? And by all meanes , let foule vnkindnes proue , And shew the second to so pure a loue . Sonnet . 60. WHen first I ended , then I first began , The more I trauell , further from my rest , vvhere most I lost , there most of all I wan , Pined with hunger , rising from a feast . Me thinks I flee , yet want I legs to goe , vvise in conceite , in act a very sot , Rauisht with ioy , amidst a hell of woe , vvhat most I seeme , that surest am I not . I build my hopes a world aboue the skie , Yet with the Mole , I creepe into the earth , In plenty , am I staru'd with penurie , And yet I surfet in the greatest dearth . I haue , I want , dispaire , and yet desire , Burn'd in a Sea of Ice , and drown'd amidst a fire . Sonnet . 61. TRuce gentle Loue , a parley now I craue , Me thinks , t is long since first these wars begun , Nor thou nor I , the better yet can haue : Bad is the match where neither party wone . I , offer free conditions of faire peace , My hart for hostage , that it shall remaine , Discharge our forces heere , let malice cease , So for my pledge , thou giue me pledge againe . Or if nothing but death will serue thy turne , Still thirsting for subuersion of my state ; Doe what thou canst , raze , massacre , and burne , Let the world see the vtmost of thy hate : I send defiance since if ouer-throwne , Thou vanquishing , the conquest is mine owne , A Cansonet . Sonnet . 62. EYes with your teares , blind if you bee , vvhy haue these teares such eyes to see , Poore eyes , if your teares cannot moue , My teares , eyes , then must mone my loue , Then eyes , since you haue lost your sight , vveepe still , and teares shall lend you light , Till both desolu'd , and both want might . No , no , cleere eyes , you are not blind , But in my teares discerne my mind : Teares be the language which you speake , which my hart wanting , yet must breake ; My tongue must cease to tell my wrongs , And make my sighs to get them tongs , Yet more then this to her belongs . To the high and mighty Prince , Iames , King of Scots . Sonnet . 63. NOt thy graue Counsells , nor thy Subiects loue , Nor all that famous Scottish royaltie , Or what thy soueraigne greatnes may approue , Others in vaine doe but historifie , vvhen thine owne glory from thy selfe doth spring , As though thou did'st , all meaner prayses scorne : Of Kings a Poet , and the Poets King , They Princes , but thou Prophets do'st adorne ; VVhilst others by their Empires are renown'd , Thou do'st enrich thy Scotland with renowne , And Kings can but with Diadems be crown'd , But with thy Laurell , thou doo'st crowne thy Crowne ; That they whose pens , ( euen ) life to Kings doe giue , In thee a King , shall seeke them selues to liue . To Lucie Countesse of Bedford . Sonnet . 64. GReat Lady , essence of my chiefest good , Of the most pure and finest tempred spirit , Adorn'd with gifts , enobled by thy blood , vvhich by discent true vertue do'st inherit : That vertue which no fortune can depriue , vvhich thou by birth tak'st from thy gracious mother , vvhose royall minds with equall motion striue , vvhich most in honour shall excell the other ; Vnto thy same my Muse her selfe shall taske , vvhich rain'st vpon me thy sweet golden showers , And but thy selfe , no subiect will I aske , Vpon whose praise my soule shall spend her powers . Sweet Lady yet , grace this poore Muse of mine , vvhose faith , whose zeale , whose life , whose all is thine . To the Lady Anne Harington . Sonnet . 65. MAdam , my words cannot expresse my mind , My zealous kindnes to make knowne to you , vvhen your desarts all seuerally I find ; In this attempt of me doe craue their due , Your gracious kindnes first doth claime my hart ; Your bounty bids my hand to make it knowne , Of me your vertues each doe challenge part , And leaue me thus the least that is mine owne ? vvhat should commend your modesty and wit , Is by your wit and modesty commended , And standeth dumbe , in most admiring it , And where it should begin , is onely ended ; Returning this your prayses onely due , And to your selfe say you are onely you . To the Lady L.S. Sonnet . 66. BRight starre of Beauty , on whose eye lids sit , A thousand Nimph-like and enamoured Graces , The Goddesses of memory and wit , vvhich in due order take their seuerall places , In whose deare bosome , sweet delicious loue , Layes downe his quiuer , that he once did beare , Since he that blessed Paradice did proue , Forsooke his mothers lap to sport him there . Let others striue to entertaine with words , My soule is of another temper made ; I hold it vile that vulgar witaffords , Deuouring time my faith , shall not inuade : Still let my praise be honoured thus by you , Be you most worthy , whilst I be most true . To Sir Anthonie Cooke . Sonnet . 67. VOuchsafe to grace these rude vnpolish'd rimes , vvhich but for you had slept in sable night , And come abroad now in these glorious times , Can hardly brooke the purenes of the light . But sith you see their destenie is such , That in the world their fortune they must try , Perhaps they better shall abide the tuch , vvearing your name their gracious liuerie . Yet these mine owne , I wrong not other men , Nor trafique ●urther then this happy Clime , Nor filch from Portes nor from Petrarchs pen , A fault too common in this latter time . Diuine Sir Phillip , I auou●h thy writ , I am no Pick-purse of anothers wit. FINIS .