Henry the 2d. surnamed Short mantle, King of England, Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, Earl of Poicteres. and Anjou: Lord of Ireland. &c    

THE REIGN OF KING HENRY THE SECOND,  
Written in Seven Books.  
By his Majesty's Command.  Invalidas vires Rex excitat, & juvat idem Qui jubet; obsequium sufficit esse meum. Auson. 
LONDON,  
Printed by A. M. for Benjamin Fisher, dwelling in Aldersgate-streete at the sign of the Talbot. 1633.   

TO THE SACRED MAJESTY OF CHARLES,  
BY THE GRACE OF GOD, KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, FRANCE, AND IRELAND, DEFENDER OF THE FAITH, etc.  
THIS HISTORICAL POEM, BORNE BY HIS COMMAND, AND NOT TO LIVE BUT BY HIS GRACIOUS ACCEPTATION, IS HUMBLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR,  
His Majesty's most obedient Subject and Servant  
THO. MAY.   

THE REIGN OF King HENRY the Second.  
The First Book.  
The Argument of the first Book.  

The happy part of Henry's reign is shown.  
His first Triumphant years and high renown.  
His peace and power Enyo grieves to see;  
And to disturb his long tranquillity  
Descending down to Lucifer below  
She craves some Vice's aid, to overthrow  
The causes of it: there those tragic times  
Of Stephen's reign, and England's civil crimes  
So lately passed, Enyo does relate;  
And shows with grief King Henry's present state▪  
The Fiend foretells what sudden change shall be  
Of England's peace, and his felicity.   

THe Second Henry, first Plantagenet,  
The first of England's royal Kings, that set  
Victorious footing on the Irish-shore,  
And taught that warlike nation to adore  
A foreign Sceptre, sound ye Muses forth.  
Declare how much his high Heroic worth  
By storms of spiteful fortune oft assailed,  
As oft'gainst fortunes spiteful storms prevailed.  
His glorious reign, but wrapped in various fate,  
And, though triumphant, yet unfortunate.  
How his great Virtues were too saddly tried  
By rebel Subjects, by the Papal pride,  
And his own children's strange impiety.  
By opposition to eclipse his high  
And great Renown, or higher to advance  
The fame of his undaunted puissance.   

Vouchsafe, dread Sovereign Charles, with that most clear  
And gracious eye, with which you use to cheer  
Poor suppliants, while destinies attend  
Your royal doom, to view these lines, and lend  
Your favours influence, which can infuse  
Virtue alone into an English Muse.  
She else would tremble to approach too nigh  
So pure a mind, so great a Majesty.  
Vouchsafe to read the actions of a King  
Your noble Ancestor; and what we sing  
In Henry's reign, that may be true renown,  
Accept it, Sr. as Prologue to your own,  
Until this Muse, or some more happy strain  
May sing your Virtues, and unaequalled Reign.   

Those civil swords, that did so lately stain  
The land with slaughter, now were sheathed again.  
The rents of State were closed, the wounds were cured,  
Peace by victorious Henry was secured,  
And justice waited on his awful throne  
Without control; all fears, all faction,  
That took beginning with King Stephen's reign,  
With him descended to the grave again.  
Stephen deceased, the Crown of England now  
Came by accord t'empale young Henry's brow,  
Which was before by right of birth his due.  
But he, lest England too too long should rue  
In blood and slaughter their ambitious strife,  
Came to accords of peace, and during life  
Of Stephen, respited his royal right.  
Now like bright Phoebus to the longing sight  
Of all the People did young Henry ri●…e;  
Before whose rays all past calamities  
Like mists did vanish: no sad clouds accloy  
The air of England; with loud shouts of joy  
The People flock, the Peers their wealth display  
To grace his wished-for Coronation day.  
His brave achievements, and that early fame  
Which he in France had gained, had made his name  
Already loved in England and admired.  
Him all the people for their Lord desired,  
And now possessed of him, take fair presage  
Such youth would end in a triumphant age.   

Then, as when once the chariot of the Sun  
Had been misguided by bold Phaethon,  
jove walked the round, and viewed with careful eye  
If heaven were safe; then from the starry sky  
Descending down, surveyed the scorched ground,  
And there repaired the ruins that he found;  
To their dry channels he called back the floods,  
And with fresh verdure clothed the seindged woods,  
Renewed the herbage, and redress ordained  
For all that wronged Nature had sustained:  
So Henry established in the Regal throne  
jove-like surveys his large dominion,  
To see what parts of state might be decayed,  
What rends so long a civil war had made.  
With physic fit he purges from the State  
Those humours, that did stir, and swell so late,  
Digests the relics, and by Princely arts,  
And policy, corroborates the parts.   

And first of all, those troops of foreigners,  
That from all parts during the civil wars  
Resorted hither to seek spoil and prey,  
He banishes, that at th' appointed day  
Within the coasts no strangers did remain,  
Restoring England to itself again.  
And lest the Crown should want for that expense,  
That must support the high magnificence  
Of such a Monarchy, into his hands  
He boldly seizes all the royal lands,  
Which either greatest men did uncontrolled  
In those tumultuous times unjustly hold;  
Or else King Stephen to support so bad  
And weak a title, as (they knew) he had,  
Had given freely, as rewards to tie  
Their truth to him against their loyalty.   

Nor did King Henry vindicate alone  
The state and wealth of his Imperial Crown,  
But the just power, and with a puissant hand  
Settled that sure obedience through the land;  
That to his awful Sceptre did belong.  
The greatest Peers, that were before too strong  
To be commanded, he by force compelled  
To yield to him the Castles that they held.  
And all the midland forts he razed down  
(The strength of nothing but rebellion.)  
Nor, though as yet presumptuous Mortimer  
Had not forgot the late licentious war,  
But strove to guard against his Sovereign  
By lawless arms the strength that he had ta'en,  
Could he resist the King, enforced to yield  
To him those three strong Castles that he held.   

Well did this reformation suit the thought  
Of such a great Heroic King, who brought  
Besides his persons worth, and true esteem,  
So loved a title to the Crown with him.  
Not from the Norman Conqueror did he  
Deduce alone his royal pedigree:  
But from the ancient Saxon Kings beside,  
As lineal heir to Edmund Ironside;  
And in his happy birth did so conjoin  
The conquering Norman and old Saxon line.  
Which hearty love and reverence to his throne  
From all the English people justly won.  
Who now forgot, pleased with his lawful power,  
That they were servants to a Conqueror▪  
Great Grandchild, by the Female side, was he  
To Margaret the Queen of Scotland; she  
Daughter to Edward, son to Ironside;  
Whose royal birth and blood was dignifyed  
By twenty fair descents of Saxon Kings.  
All which the happy birth of Henry brings  
The more to England to endear his reign.  
And here yourself, most Gracious Sovereign,  
Your ancient right to England's Crown may see.  
In Scotland's royal blood your pedigree  
Is farther drawn; and no known king, as you,  
So long a title to two Crowns can show.   

Then to the North with puissant Arms he makes  
A prudent Voyage, and by Conquests takes  
(To keep entire his kingdom's ancient bounds)  
From Malcolm King of Scotland, all those grounds  
That to the Crown of England did belong.  
No Cities could withstand, no forts so strong,  
But yield to Henry's force. there, with the rest  
Newcastle, Carleill he again possessed.  
But least injustice any stain should be  
To his great deeds, in thankful memory  
Of what King Malcolm in the wars had done  
For th' Empress Mawde, he gives him Huntingdon  
A midd-land County, rich, and fitter far  
For the b●…hoofe of both; from whence no war  
Nor troubles could arise, and which before  
Had been possessed by Malcolmes Ancestor.   

Yet did one deed with sad injustice blot  
The reputation he before had got;  
Whilst too must thirsting for increase of lands,  
He seized out of his brothers Geoffrey's hands  
The Earldom of Anjou; forgetting both  
The sacred ties of Nature and of Oath;  
That Oath which once so solemnly he swore.  
His Father Geoffry Anious Earl, before  
Knowing that Henry was, by birth, to be  
Both England's King, and Duke of Normandy,  
Had given that Earldom to his second son  
Geoffrey, and put him in possession  
Of three the strongest Castles in the Land.  
But falling sick, when deaths approaching hand  
He felt, mistrusting that hi●… eldest Son  
The potent Henry might, when he was gone,  
Diss●…ize young Geoffrey, made his Barons swear  
(For at his death Prince Henry was not there)  
That his dead corpse should not interred be  
Till Henry had been sworn to ratify  
His will; Prince Henry, though unwillingly,  
Yet rather than his father's hearse should lie  
Unburied still, that Oath b●…fore them took.  
Which afterward, when England's King, he broke;  
And, though possessed of so many lands  
And large estates, out of his brother's hands  
That Earldom took by force of arms away;  
And did, in lieu, a yearly pension pay.   

But though the King could for that oath obtain  
A dis●…ensation from Pope Adrian,  
A higher power (it seemed) would not dispense;  
But afterward in kind did recompense  
●…hat foul misdeed. for when King Henry meant  
To john his youngest son the government  
Of those three Castles; thence his eldest son  
took first pretence for that rebellion  
Against his father. so what injury  
Impiety had wrought, Impiety  
Revenged; and scourged by an unnatural son  
What was against nature by a br●…ther done.   

Yet could not Henry's deeds of highest fame  
Teach stubborn Wales to tremble at his name,  
Or fear t'offend him by rebellious war,  
Till she had felt him there a conqueror,  
And been herself enforced to implore  
His grace and favour, with one triumph more  
T'en●…ich his conquering head; not all her great  
Rough woods could yield her soldiers safe retreat;  
Nor could those high and craggy mountains be  
Of proof against Henry's magnanimity.  
Although the Welsh relied not on the aid  
Of hills and woods: their Prince was not afraid  
To join in battle with the English strength;  
Where though stout Owen and his powers at length  
Subd●…'de, did yield themselves, yet so they fought,  
That they true fame to Henry's conquest brought.  
Who now triumphant back to England goes,  
And leaves strong forts to awe rebellious foes,  
●…o guard the coasts and marches, and appear  
●…e lasting trophies of his conquests there.   

Those large dominions which he held in France,  
The fame alone of his great puissance  
Preserved from tumults, from rebellion's free,  
Or fear of any foreign enemy.  
King Lewis himself was there too weak a foe  
To do him damage, or his power o'erthrow  
Beyond the seas; yet though each neighbouring state  
With envy trembled at the prosperous fate  
Of England's King; such moderation he  
Had showed, so ruled his power with equity,  
Seeking no lawless and unjust increase,  
That Europe then possessed a happy peace.  
This peace when fierce Enyo had beheld,  
And saw all seeds of war and faction quelled,  
She sighed and wept; for nought could pleasing be  
To that dire maid but wars calamity:  
Nought but dissension did to her seem good;  
No sights but fields and rivers stained with blood  
Were her delightsome prospects. into air  
She mounts, and filled with fury and despair  
Shakes, as she flies, her now-extinguished brand,  
Which gives no blaze at all, then taking stand  
Above the shore of fruitful Normandy  
Upon a lofty cliff, views from on high  
Great Henry's large dominions, that extend  
From Scotland Northward to the Southern end  
Of spacious rance, which those high mountains bound  
Named from Pirene's death▪ o'er all that ground  
She sees, and gnashes for disdain to see,  
No streaming Ensigns, no hostility;  
The murderous swords to scythes were turned again,  
And cheerful plowmen till the fertile plain;  
The herdsmen hear their bullocks gently lough,  
And their own folds the fearless shepherds know.  
Am I then banished quite? shall Peace (quoth she)  
Boast through these lands so great a victory  
Over Enyo? will no power o'erthrow  
These nations quiet rest! if heaven allow  
This lethargy, and still would have it so:  
I will descend, and see what hell can do.   

A spacious cave there was (not oft before  
Descried by mortal eye) within that shore  
Which wealthy France doth to the North display,  
And Britain's Ocean bounds. thither they say,  
The wise Dulichyan Hero, by advi●…e  
Of beauteous Circe came to sacrifice,  
And there restored, by blood of bullocks slain,  
To silent ghosts the use of speech again.  
Through that dark vault did Phoebus ne'er shoot ray,  
Nor ever glided beam of cheerful day.  
The grove of Proserpina oreshadowed quite  
That dismal shore, and damps of dreary night  
Condensed the air; no birds those boughs did grace,  
Nor with sweet music cheered the baleful place;  
No Tritons played, nor did blue Proteus feed  
His scaly ●…locke, nor fair Halcyon breed  
Beneath the shelter of so sad a shore:  
But grisly fiends and furies evermore  
In hideous shapes did to the cave repair,  
And ghosts sad●… murmurs did affright the air,  
Who in unnumbered companies attend.  
Thither the fierce Enyo did descend,  
And all her strongest arts and charm bring  
To hold converse with Hell's infernal king.   

The Fiend himself was busy far below,  
And ran with gnashing envy too and fro  
To find out plots of ruin, and survey  
His Master-vices, who fast chained lay  
In adamantine caverns; and from thence  
(So pleased the great Creator's providence  
To curb their might for mankind's sake, lest all  
The world should in a quick confusion fall)  
With all their force at once, and licenced power  
They cannot go; for soon they would devour  
All states, all lands, and work more tragic woe  
Then earthquakes, fires, or pestilence can do.  
Within their several denns the Vices lay;  
And o'er the doors proud pictures did display  
What several feats and conquests they had wrought,  
What States, what kingdoms they to ruin brought.  
For of destroying households, or the fall  
Of private men they made no boast at all.  
And as stern Aeolus is forced to lock  
The boisterous winds in caves of strongest rock  
By joves' command, lest, if they wholly go,  
They should all woods, all city's overthrow,  
And bear down all that did before them stand,  
Confounding Neptunes kingdom with the land.  
Yet have those winds still leave in some degree  
(Though they disdain such petty liberty)  
To range abroad, to make their natures known,  
To shake some weakly ●…ounded houses down,  
Oreturne some aged Oaks, and now and than  
To cause a shipwreck on the Ocean.  
Even so these hellish monsters, though great jove  
Permit them not in their full strength to move,  
Are acting mischei●…e every day, and go  
Contriving here and there designs of woe,  
And work (though they almost such work despise)  
The wrack of private men and families;  
But to effect a great and public woe  
Without a special licence cannot go:  
Hither, while Lucifer did thus survey  
His Master-Vices, as they chained lay,  
He bade them bring Enyo down below,  
For then to th'upper cave he would not go.  
What wouldst thou crave (quoth he) what black design  
What stratagem t'enlarge thy power or mine  
Hath made Enyo hither take her flight?  
The furious Maid replies; great Prince of night,  
'tis not my cause alone that makes me come  
(As fearing general peace in Christendom)  
Thy cause is joined; I fear if that peace be,  
Such wars as more will hurt thy Monarchy.  
Then briefly thus; full fifteen years are gone  
Since potent Henry wore the English crown,  
Possessed beside, in wealthy France of more  
Strong lands, then do the crown of France adore,  
Blessed with a numerous issue, and by none  
Annoyed, disturbed by no rebellion,  
Nor foreign foes; and lest French Lewis should be  
His foe (though too too weak;) a●…inity  
joins them; fair Margaret is by wedlock tied  
To young Prince Henry; Britain's heir's affied  
To Geoffrey his third son, who comes to add  
That Duchy too, to what before he had  
In France; it did not seem enough that he  
Before possessed Maine, Anjou, Normandy,  
Nor that he did by Eleanor obtain  
Poi●…tou beside, and fertile Aquitaine.  
What war dares menace such strong power as he  
Possesses now? what fortune (woe is me)  
Has chang'de the times? with what delight could I  
(If now not crossed by this tranquillity)  
Remember Stephen's reign, and tragic times?  
Oh heavens what slaughters, then, what civil crimes  
Did England see, when on her frighted Coast  
The Empress Maude was landed with her host,  
And came by arms to claim her royal right?  
What sudden tumults rose, and did affright  
The wretched people? different passions than  
Made sad divisions in the hearts of men.  
Some wept, some feared, some sadly took their arms,  
And with intent to cure their country's harms  
Prepared to wound her more; some did not know  
What side to take, or where they might bestow  
Their rage or love, before each mourning eye  
Did forms of fire, of blood, and slaughter fly.  
Within themselves their passions made arise  
Such things as they imagined prodigies;  
With thoughts confused the people rushed to arms;  
No noise in England but my loud alarms  
Was heard; the war long carried to and fro  
At Lincoln wholly met at last, and now  
All hoped one battle would the right decide.  
No field was ever with more fury tried,  
Nor rage ere met more equal rage, as they  
That saw the slaughters of that dismal day,  
Could justly tell; till great Augusta's right,  
Whose powers renowned Gloster led in fight,  
Prevailed at last; there after he in vain  
Had showed rare valour, was king Stephen ta'en,  
And to the conquering Empress captive brought.  
Then turned the State. who would not then have thought  
All civil wars had ended quite, when she  
Had on her side both right and victory?  
The people all congratulate her state;  
But soon begin to pity St●…phens fa●…e,  
And too hard durance. who a king had been,  
Then pinched in irons lay. his weeping Queen  
For her dear Lord did to the Empress sue,  
But all in vain. the wars from thence renew;  
Again the discontented people rise  
In aid of Stephen's faction, and surprise  
Gloucester's brave Earl, Augusta's General  
Then seemed the like calamities to fall  
On both the parties, and in equal pain  
Of durance did the king and Earl remain  
Accord was made, but not an end to make  
Of civil war, nor for their country's sake,  
But to release their own captivity,  
And in exchange they set each other free.  
From this accord with greater fury far  
Through all the kingdom rose the civil war.  
For those sad changes had not pacified  
But more incensed the chiefs of either side.  
Whose wrath the people felt; all kinds of woe  
The wretched Realm was forced to undergo.  
The countries pillaged, castles lost and won,  
Rich cloisters robbed, the fairest cities down  
Or razed or burned, in ●…ude heaps did lie;  
As Wiltons pitied sack could testify  
By Gloucester's furious army burned with fire.  
Nor thee fair Worster, in king Stephen's ire  
Could all thy beauteous structure save from wrack;  
In fatal flames thy walls and houses crack.  
Through what great hazards did both Princes run?  
How hardly oft escape destru●…tion!  
What need I tell how Stephen forced to fly  
From Gloster's powers, forfooke his treasury  
At Wilton Abbey? how the Empress fled  
When least she seemed to fly (supposed dead)  
And like a coarse was carried through her 〈◊〉  
So to escape? what need I now disclose  
How after she, when she i●… Oxford lay  
Straightly besieged by Stephen, got away?  
No strength of friends at all, no parleys there  
Could free her person; Winter rescued her,  
And the cold season strove to mock the foe.  
December raged, the Northern winds did blow,  
And by their power had glazed the silver flood  
Of near-adjoining Thames, whose waters stood  
Congealed still; o'er which the snow around  
Had fallen, and with white fleeces clothed the ground;  
When the wise Empress clothed alike in white  
Forsook the town, and past along by night,  
Deluding so the watches careful eyes.  
They thought the snow had moved, or did surmise  
Their optic spirits had disturbed been,  
Not clear, and they tumultuously had seen.  
Fixed objects oft do seem in motions so.  
Thus then securely did the Empress go,  
And was received with joy to Walingford.  
Nor then did England bleed alone; her Lord  
Anious great Earl by fierce and bloody war  
Was winning Normandy in right of her.  
Those, those were times; but now, (ah woe is me)  
Great Lucifer, if this tranquillity  
Without disturbance hold in Christendom,  
I fear for thee a far worse war will come.  
Thy Saracens shall rue the Christians peace,  
And feel their conquering swords. what large increase  
Of territories, honour, and of fame  
Through farthest Asia will the Christian name  
Acquire? what bounds, alas, would Salem know  
If potent Henry to this war should go?  
If he should there the English cross advance?  
His aid they all will seek; his puissance  
Will Salems' feeble king implore to join  
Against those foes that threaten Palestine.  
Therefore in time this peaceful knot divide.  
Enyo ceased; when Lucifer replied;  
Thy just complaint, heroic Maid, I hear;  
But do not doubt the power of Lucifer.  
Those instruments, that I from hence shall bring,  
Will soon divert it all, and make this king,  
Whose strength the world so much admires, and fea●…▪  
Whom now they deem so blessed, ere many years  
Into themselves revolve again, to be  
The pity of his foes; nature for me  
Against herself is working. come and view  
My champions here that shall with speed pursue  
What I design. with that he leads her by  
The denns, where all along his Vi●…es lie.   

There in her den●… lay pompous Luxury  
Stretched out at length; no Vice could boast such hi●…h  
And general victories as she had won.  
Of which proud trophies there at large were shown.  
Besides small States and kingdoms ruined,  
Those mighty Monarchies, that had o'erspread  
The spacious earth, and stretched their conquering arm▪  
From Pole to Pole, by her ●…nsuaring charms  
Were quite consumed. there lay imperial Rome,  
That vanquish●… all the worled, by her o'ercome.  
Fettered was th'old Assyrian Lion there,  
The Grecian Leopard, and the Persian Bear,  
With others numberless lamenting by,  
Examples of the power of luxury.   

Next with erected looks Ambition stood,  
Whose trophies all were portrayed forth in blood.  
Under his feet Law and religion  
He trampled down; sacked cities there were shown,  
Rivers and fields with slaughter overspread,  
And stained with blood which his wild sons had shed.  
There Ninus image stood, who first of all  
By lawless arms and slaughter did enthrall  
The quiet nations, that lived free till then,  
And first took pride to triumph over men.  
There was Sesostris figured; there the son  
Of Philip lay, whose dire ambition  
Not all the spacious earth could satisfy.  
Swift as the lightning did his conquests fly  
●…rom Greece to farthest Eastern lands, and like  
Some dire contagion, through the world did strike  
Death and destruction; purple were the floods  
Of every region with their natives bloods.  
Next him tha●… Roman lay, who first of all  
Captived his country; there were figured all  
His wars and mischiefs, and what ever woes  
Through all the world by dire ambition rose.   

Next to that Fiend lay pale Revenge; with gore  
His ghastly visage was all sprinkled over.  
The hate he bore to others, had quite reft  
Him of all love unto himself, and left  
No place for nature. over his den were shown  
Such tragedies and sad destruction  
As would dissolve true humane hearts to hear,  
And from the fury's selves enforce a tear.  
Those bloody slaughters there to view were brought,  
Which Jacob's cruel sons in Shechem wrought,  
When all the Males but newly circumcised  
To their revengeful rage were sacrificed.  
There the slain youth of Alexandrialy  
By Caracalla's vengeful butchery,  
The captived fate of Spain was there displayed,  
Which wrathful ●…ulian in revenge betrayed  
To Pagan Moors, and ruined so his own  
Sad house, his country and religion.  
Not all these sacred bonds with him prevail,  
When he beholds his ravished daughter wail,  
Wring her white hands, and that fair bosom strike,  
That too much pleased the lustful Rhoderike.   

The next Sedition lay, not like the rest  
Was he attired, nor in his looks expressed  
Hatred to heaven and virtues laws; but he  
Pretends religion, law, or liberty,  
Seeming t'adore what he did most o'erthrow,  
And would persuade virtue to be a foe  
To peace and lawful power. above his den  
For boasting trophies hung su●…h robes, as when  
Old Sparta stood, her Ephori did wear,  
And Rome's bold Tribunes. Stories carved there  
Of his achievements numberless were s●…ene,  
S●…ch as the Gracch●…s fact●…ous stirs had been  
In ancient Rome, and such as were the crimes,  
●…hat oft wracked Greece in her most potent times,  
S●…ch as learned Athens, and bold Sparta knew,  
And from their ablest soldiers oft did rue.   

Next to that Vice lay foul Impiety  
At large displayed, the cursed enemy  
Of nature's best and holiest laws; through all  
Her loathsome den unthankful vipers crawl.  
Above those stories were displayed, which show  
How much the Monarchy of Hell did owe  
●…or people's wrack to that abhorred Vice.  
There were Mycenae's baleful tragedies,  
And all the woes that fatal The●…es had wrought.  
There false Medea, when away she brought  
Her own betrayed countries spoils, before  
Her weeping father Aeta peicemeale tore  
Her brother's limbs, and strewed them o'er the field.  
There with the same impiety she killed  
Her own two sons, and through the air apace  
By dragons drawn, she fled from Jason's face.  
There strong Alcathoë king Nisus town  
By S●…yllaes impious treason was o'erthrown,  
And sacked with fire and sword; the wretched maid  
Had from her lofty sounding tower surveyed  
King Minos' host, and doting on her fair  
Foes face, cut off her father's purple hair.   

This, this is she, this is the Vice must go  
(Quoth Lu●…ifer) to work the overthrow  
Of England's peace; Impiety shall do  
What ever thy designs can reach unto.  
She shall ascend to England, and possess  
The breasts of Henri's sons; with what success●…  
Enyo fear not; I have seen the boys.  
Though yet but young; I mark, to swell my joys,  
Such forward signs of their ambition,  
They soon will by Impiety be blown  
Up into such attempts, as that thy brand  
Shall quickly blaze again through every land  
That Henry rules. this is the cause that he  
Continues yet in his prosperity,  
His sons are not of age. they, they must grow  
Their father's only ruin, th'overthrow  
Of all his weal. beside to further our  
De●…gue in this; and lend us present power,  
〈◊〉 king himself consents; who governed by  
〈◊〉 dotage and disastrous policy  
Does now intend to crown his eldest son.  
Soon as his feasts at Windsor shall be done,  
Where now, with William Scotland's king, he lies,  
Shall Westminst●…r see these solemnities.  
The●…e see how soon ●…mpiety shall fire  
The young king's breast, and make him more aspire  
The more his father gives, and though of late  
Sedition well have wrought upon the State  
By Becket, who these five years has been fled,  
And yet that strife is not extinguished;  
No wars from thence grow, nor has thy desire  
Enyo, been fulfilled; that fa●…tious fire  
Has burnt no cities, nor has blood at all  
Been drawn in that; be sure in this there shall.  
Impiety shall do't▪ the Fiend here ends,  
And pleased Enyo from the cave ascends.    

THE REIGN OF King HENRY the Second.  
The Second Book.  
The Argument of the second Book.  

King H●…nry Crowns at Westminster, his son:  
But soon begins to fear what he had done.  
He feasts the King of Scotland at his Court.  
Among the tempting beauties that resort  
To that great festival, he falls in Love  
With Rosamond, armed Pallas from above  
Appears to Henry's sleep: chides him, as slow  
In his affairs of Ireland; and does show  
What lasting honour that great Isle shall be  
To him, and his victorious progeny.   

NOw had great Henry his design declared  
To crown his Son, and all that state prepared  
That might befit the great solemnity,  
The Peers and people all approve what he  
Rashly decrees, and in the triumph join.  
Withglittering pomp the streets of London shine.  
Their wealth the greatest Citizens display  
To grace young Henry's Coronation day.  
But most of all, though least discerning why,  
Unusual joy the Vulgar testify.  
Not good but new things please the people's eyes.  
Nor does King Henry in his love surmise  
That all the face of England, all the state  
Were witnesses enough to celebrate  
His sons high honour; but King William too  
Arrived from Scotland, must be brought to do  
His homage to him as to England's King,  
And with him must his brother David bring.  
The sacred oil, in banished Becket's stead,  
Is by York's Prelate poured upon his head;  
The Diadem, which was possessed before,  
Empales his brow; whilst all the Peers adore  
Two Suns at once, and, ill presaging, see  
(What a●…ter proved) a fatal prodigy.   

How ill Imperial Majesty can brook  
A sharer, seek not far; nor need you look  
S●…oryes, whose credit time has ruined quite;  
Nor need you read what old Tragedians write  
Of this ●…add Theme, or east your pitying eyes  
V●…on the Theban brothers tragoedyes,  
O●… brother's blood, that Rome's first walls did stain.  
The s●…arious heavens (as Poets wisely fain)  
Brooked not old Saturn and his jupiter.  
By every age, and dire examples near  
To us, how oft has this sad truth been proved?  
How many sons and fathers have been moved  
To parricide, to set themselves but free  
From that, which Henry makes himself to be,  
Rivalled in reign? but if he still retain  
Full Regal power, what more dost thou obtain  
By this thy father's kind donation,  
Young King, than title and a fruitless throne?  
How vain thy Sceptre is, when thou shalt see  
The power divided from the dignity?   

Yet do not so mistake thy fate; no less,  
Nay greater far esteem thy happiness  
Then if thou now wert seized of all alone.  
The ●…ares and dangers waiting on a Crown  
Have made some fear the burden, or despise  
That sacred jewel of unvalewed price.  
A prudent King, when he awhile surveyed  
The glittering splendour, that his Crown displayed,  
Was sighing heard to say, if those that view  
far off thy flattering glories only, knew  
How many cares and g●…efes in thee are found,  
They would be loath to take thee up from ground.  
This wisest Monarch, if he now should see  
Thy royal State, young King, would envy thee,  
And count thee happy sure, that dost alone  
Wear, without cares, the glories of a Crown,  
That from the burden of a King art free,  
Invested only with the dignity.   

Yet this prerogative b●…ings no content  
To thee, that seem'st to want th' accomplishment  
Of royalty, the power and Regal s●…ay.  
Nothing (alas) this Coronation day  
Has brought thee to, but to a nearer sight  
Of what thou hast not, nor is yet thy right.  
Thy stirring mind meets torture with a throne,  
But Tantalized in dominion.  
The cause (alas) of woes that must ensue,  
And thy great father too too soon shall rue.   

That day's solemnity in truest state  
The Court of England strove to celebrate,  
And with such great magnificence as might  
The Majesty of that high presence fit;  
Where all at once three Kings, two Queens were met,  
Besides so many high borne Princes, great  
In same and wealth. the feasting boards were filled  
With what this Island or ●…ich France could yield.  
S●…ch cates as those, with which old Poets feigned  
In Thessaly the Gods were entertained  
At s●…lver-footed Thetis bridal feast,  
Where ●…ove himself vouchsafed to be a guest.  
Where aged Chiron waited at the board,  
And brought what air, earth, waters could af●…ord,  
When all rich Tempe, and th' adjoining seas  
Were searched, besides what then the Najades,  
What young Palaemon, Glaucus, and the green  
Sea-nymphs had brought to grace their beauteous queen.  
The choicest Wines that France or Spain could yield  
In cups of gold, studded with gems were filled,  
And antique Goblets, where the Carver strove  
To equal nature's skill; beasts seemed to move,  
And precious birds their glistering wings displayed.  
The fair and m●…ssy vessels that convey●…d  
The feast to them, did far in their high rates  
Exceed the value of those sumptuous cates.   

King Henry wanton with excess of joy,  
Which now he thought no fortune could destroy  
(How soon deceived! how soon enforc'de to find  
The error in his ill-presaging mind)  
To testify a great affection,  
And grace the state of his young-crowned Son,  
Himself, as sewer, will vouchsafe to wait  
Upon his son; who sits in Regal state,  
And to his table the first dish present.  
The Lords and Princes all with one c●…nsent  
Applaud the King's great love, but secretly  
Are stroke with wonder these strange rites to see.  
Some seek examples for it; some within  
Themselves, do sadly from that sight divine;  
When York's Archbishop the young King bespoke;  
Rejoice, my Princely son, and freely take  
The comfort of your state; no Monarch (know)  
On Earth has such a servitor as you.  
With that the Prelate gently smiled; but he  

* Polydore Vi●…gil in H. 2▪  With a proud look replies; why wonder ye?  
Or think these rites so strange my Father ●…ooes?  
My birth is far more Royal (well he knows)  
Than his. he only by the Mother's side  
With high Imperial blood was dignify'de;  
His father was but Anjous Earl; but I  
Derive from both my Parent's royalty,  
A King and Queen. th●…y all with wonder hear;  
King Henry sighed, and 'gan even then to ●…eare  
What after might ensue from such a pride.  
But at that triumph he resolved to hide  
His fears or griefs. instead of which, the Court  
Was filled with Revels, with all Royal sport,  
All shows that high magnificence could give▪  
There art in strange varieties did strive  
Both to perplex and please the eyes of all,  
●…ut nature more. for to the festival  
From every part the choicest beauties came.  
There, like a fire etherial, every Dame  
Did blaze, more bright than Elements could make▪  
While from the Countries they all flocked to take  
Survey of Kingly glories, while they sought  
To view the lustre of a Court, they brought  
The lustre with them, and might seem to be  
Themselves that splendour, that they came to see▪  
Amidst those sparkling beauties Cupid sat  
Loves powerful God, and ruled in highest state,  
Armed with his fires and shafts, resolved to be  
In Henry's Court a greater King than he,  
Whose yoke the King must suffer. On the state  
Of Cupid there the little Loves did wait.  
Throughout the Court they took their wanton flight  
With wings unseen, and, when they list, would light  
Upon the Lady's shoulders, or their breasts,  
Their Ruffs, or tires; they feel not those light guests  
Which they give harbour to; Bold Licence there,  
Sweet reconciled Anger, blushing Fear▪  
Unsafe Delight, did with pale Watching fly,  
Desiring tears with Wanton perjury,  
And all the rest. They say the beauteous Queen  
Of Love herself upon that day was seen  
Approaching London; up clear Thames his stream  
Borne on a sounding Triton's back she came.  
The River smoothed his face to entertain  
The Queen of Love with her lig●…t footed train.  
The silver Swans ador'de her all 〈◊〉 way,  
And churking did their snowwhite wings display.  
The river-nymphes, that saw her coming, thought  
Some sweet achievement now was to be wrought,  
That Cupid sure had promised her to see  
Some high exploit, some royal victory,  
As that, when once he made imperial jove  
Lough like a Bull for fair Europa's Love,  
Or when he made rough Neptune ●…eele his fire,  
Or warmed chaste Cynthia's bosom with desire,  
And made her court the Shepherd. su●…h a one  
Love's Queen now looked for from her conquering son▪  
Nor was her expectation void; she found  
As much as she could hope, a royal wound.  
No less than Henry's noble breast must be  
The trophy of her Cupid's victory.  
Henry's pleased eyes now wandered every where  
Among those Stars, that made his Court their Sphere,  
(For such they seemed, and no less bright they showed,  
Although of different light and magnitude▪)  
Oft could he change the o●…jects of his eye  
With fresh delight, praise the v●…riety  
Without distracted thoughts, till like the Queen  
Of light, fair Cynthia, Rosamund was seen.  
There did he fix; there his amazed eye  
Forgot all pleasure of variety,  
And gazed alone upon her matchless hue.  
False Cupid laughed, and thence in triumph slew.  
Too much (alas) found Henry's wounded breast  
How much her beauty did outshine the rest.  
So golden Venus amongst the Sea-nymphs, so  
Did Deidamia amongst her sister's show,  
When she inflamed the young Achilles' heart,  
As Rosamund appeared. each single pa●…t  
Of Love's rich dower, which she alone possessed,  
Had been enough to fire a vulgar breast,  
And in another raise high beauties fame.  
Into her form all several Cupids came,  
And all the Graces their perfection showed.  
Nature confessed she had too much bestowed  
On one rich mixture, which alone must wear  
All her fair liveries; pure whiteness there  
Nor red alone must beauties colours show.  
Blue pleads a title, since her veins are so;  
Even black itself placed in her eye is bright,  
And seems to be the colour of the light.  
As they are hers, all ●…ormes, all colours please.  
Henry, the more he looks, does more increase  
His flame; and whether he should check desire,  
And go about to quench so sweet a fire;  
Or feed the flame, he cannot yet resolve.  
A thousand thoughts does his sick breast revolve,  
Sometimes he seeks to cure the wound, and cast  
Out Cupids●…atall ●…atall shaft; but still more fast  
The arrow sticks, and goes more deep into  
His wounded heart; ensnared fishes so  
When they have once received the baited hook,  
The more they plunge, the deeper still are struck.  
So when by chance the stately Stag is shot,  
In vain he strives against fate; it boots him not  
Through all the ●…orrests, lawns, and fields to take  
His speedy course; no force, no flight can shake  
The mortal shaft out of his wounded side.  
It boots not Henry to survey the pride  
Of other beauties now; conve●…se with all  
The Princes met at his great festival,  
Or fix himself on the solemnities,  
The sports and revels of his court. His eyes  
Can recompense him with no sight at all,  
Nor yield him pleasure equal to the thrall  
They brought him to, by sight of Rosamund.  
No thoughts of state have power t'allay his wound.  
Sometimes he yields to Love's imperial flame;  
Resolves to cou●…t her favour strait; but shame  
Restrains that thought. His servants all discern  
A change; but are afraid the cause to learn.   

'tis not the crowning (Henry) of thy son  
(Though that shall breed ●… sad confusion)  
Can make thee less than king, or disenthrone  
Thee half so much, as love of her has don●….  
That makes thee humbly sue: makes thee become  
Thyself a subject, forced t'abide the doom  
That sovereign beauty shall be pleased to give.  
Thou, mighty Prince, whose high Prerogative  
Equal to fate it ●…elfe, used to bestow  
Or death or life on suppliants, art now  
Thyself an humble suppliant, and bound  
To sue for health to beauteous Rosamund.   

While thus the Princes met do celebra●…e  
In feasts and revels young king Henry's sta●…e,  
And London's filled with several jollityes,  
Swift-winged fame from thence to Paris flies,  
Where then the French king Lewis kept his 〈◊〉▪  
And fills his jealous ears with this repo●…;  
Young Henry on the royal throne is set  
Without his wife the Princes●…e 〈◊〉  
(Though Lewis his daughter.) je●…lousy can 〈◊〉  
A reason quickly to torment his mind.  
That reason flattering Cou●…tiers aggravate,  
And those that love the troubles of a State  
The factious spirits, that seek from thence 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪  
What other reason can there be (say they)   

Unless contemptuous scorn of thee and France,  
That Henry singly should his son advance  
Without his wife, nor let young Margaret be  
A sharer in her husband's dignity?  
What end of his, or what design had been  
Made frustrate else, had she been crowned Queen?  
These slight surmi●…es are too soon approved,  
And for just reasons ta'en; the King is moved  
To g●…ound a war on these, resolved (although  
No hopes invite him) to be Henry's foe;  
Forced by miscalled honour to pursue  
What most of all he would himself eschew.   

Honour is to a man a tyrant then,  
When honours laws he seeks from other men,  
Not finds them in himself; when he attends  
Not real truth, but fame, which still depends  
On others breaths; yet makes a man to go  
‛ ●…ainst his own passions, and his reason too.   

Nor must king Lewis his fury stay so long,  
As fairly to expostulate the wrong,  
To send his grievance first, then to defy,  
And be a just and royal enemy.  
Those fiery spirits, that too much fear a peace,  
That discontents betwixt the Kings would cease,  
And no swords drawn at all, if that were done,  
Still urge king Lewis; with speed, say they, go on.  
There's no advantage in a course so slow;  
'tis best to be, before you seem, a foe.  
Before the news to Henry's ear can fly,  
With fire and sword invade his Normandy.   

Mean time king Henry fearless of the blow  
Of war, was mastered by a greater foe,  
Enforced to yield to Cupid's powerful bow.  
The triumphs all were done; king William now  
Had with Prince David ta'en their leaves, and from  
The court of England were returning home,  
By English Lords attended on their way.  
The court seemed naked, robbed of that bright array,  
And beauteous splendour it so lately wore:  
How much unlike the place it was before!  
How solitary now! but Henry's mind  
That change, which others think of, cannot find,  
No other absence can he feel but one:  
His dearest life fair Rosamund was gone  
To grace the country with her presence now.  
The wounded lover did by this time know  
Her birth and country. thither flies his heart,  
And from his palace, nay himself, would part.  
Or else contrives to bring a gem so bright  
To court, and place her nearer to his sight.  
No kingly pleasures, no magnificence  
Can taste; no music's sweet while she is thence.  
So when the fair Calisto did remain  
In woods a huntress of Diana's train,  
And wore her quiver, when enamoured jove  
Beheld her matchless beauty from above,  
●…he woods before heaven's palace please his eye;  
Before the starry regions of the sky  
He loves th'Arcadian forests to survey.  
Not those bright houses, nor the milky way  
All paved with silver Stars do seem so clear.  
The woods are heaven while fair Cali●…to's there.  
●…une than began; and roses graced the Spring.  
Into his garden walks the Lovesick King  
To seek a sweet retreat, with her alone  
●…o feast his pleased imagination.  
There while he viewed the Queen of flowers, his flame  
Increased, and took fresh fuel from the name;  
For her the blushing rose must praised be,  
And scorned again, because it is not she.  
No roses can (quoth he) be fragrant else;  
Th●…re is no spring but where Lord Clifford dwells.  
●…hus vainly run his thoughts upon the flower,  
While gentle birds about his ●…hady bower  
Tune their soft notes, and by degrees sweet sleep  
Through all his wearied senses 'gan to creep,  
As if fair Venus pitying his sad plight,  
Would send him now by dream some short delight,  
And, what his waking eye could not have found,  
Present in sleep, the shape of Rosamund.  
But Heaven was more propitious to his fame,  
And for Love-dreames, a Nobler vision came.  
Honour's bright Goddess, that heroic maid  
That issu'de from the brain of jove, array'de  
In all her radiant glories came, before  
Whose face the Cupids fled; her right hand bore  
The warlike Lance, her left Medusa's head;  
Her golden plumed Helm, both full of dread  
And Majesty, such rays of splendour yields  
As rising Phoebus, when far off he guilds  
The Eastern Clouds; her eyes wore Starry light,  
But fixed, not twinkling, like weak humane ●…ight,  
Nor did she seem by steps at all to go,  
Or stirring several Limbs, as mortals do,  
But one sole motion through the air to make.  
Thus she appeared, and thus the King bespoke:  
Forgetful Henry wake; the Fates provide  
While thou art sleeping, Fame for thee, and chide  
Thy dull delays. how long to thee in vain  
Shall Ireland yield herself, and court thy reign?  
Ireland, that must hereafter bring a style  
So great to thy posterity, that I'll,  
The most enduring part of thy renown,  
And best addition to fair England's Crown?  
Ten years have turned into themselves again  
Since that late Pope deceased Adrian  
Did freely send by john of ●…alisbury  
The grant of Ireland's sovereignty to thee,  
And with it sent that ring, to be a sure  
And lasting sign of thy investiture  
Into that sacred honour. canst thou wear  
The precious Emerald on thy finger there,  
And yet so long forget with what intent  
Thou then didst take that royal ornament,  
That marriage token? wi●…t thou now refuse  
The spouse, thou didst with such affection choose?   

Let not the thoughts of fa●…tious Becket now,  
Nor what Church-threats, or censures thence may grow  
Divert thee from this happy enterprise.  
Think not that troubles may in France arise  
Through thy short absence; since no stirs at home,  
No loss that to those provinces can come,  
Can countervail such great and lasting gain.  
That Western Ila●…d, as the ●…ates ordain,  
To thy Victorious seed, through every age,  
Shall be, a great and constant heritage,  
An I flourish then, when all those Provinces,  
All those ri●…h lands thou dost in France possess,  
〈◊〉 from the English Crown divided be.  
When thy most ancient right, fair Normandy  
Itself is gone, together with rich Maine,  
With Brettaine, Anjou, Poictou, Aquitane;  
Although how oft shall France, before those days,  
Be scourged? What trophies shall the English raise  
In every part and province, which no power  
Shall ere extinguish, nor strong time devour?  
When all amazed Christendom shall see  
The Arms of England twice with victory  
To grasp great France, and once to seize her Crown,  
And wear't in uncontrolled possession;  
When Caesar's deeds against the ancient Gauls  
Shall be out done by English Generals;  
And three famed battles shall exceed what he  
Achieved against his strongest enemy  
Stout Vercingentorix; that Prince his fall,  
Arvaricum's ●…am'd sack, and th' end of all  
Alexia taken, to each several field  
Of Cressy, Poitiers, Agincourt shall yield.  
But Ireland, which by easy victory  
Without a war almost shall yield to thee,  
Shall to thy royal heirs remain; although  
B●…fore that Kingdom to perfection grow,  
And be established in a quiet Reign,  
●…ft horrid wars, and bloody fields shall stain  
●…er face in future times, and loud alarms  
●…ft to the world shall fame the English arms,  
And raise the glory of Elisaes' name.  
A virgin Queen shall all rebellion tame,  
And to her rule in spite of Spain's proud fate,  
That spacious ●…and wholly vindicate.  
There wise King james shall spread the English Law,  
And by divinest skill (like Orpheus) draw  
Those ruder people to a civil life,  
And well established Peace; all jars and stri●…e  
Shall fly before his most auspicious reign.  
This is that Prince, by whom high heavens ordain  
The long wished marriage of two royal lands.  
Bri●…aines united I'll to his commands  
And sacred Sceptre shall obedient be.  
Who after long and blessed tranquillity  
Shall leave those States to his heroik son  
Renowned Charles; in whose pure breast alone  
All regal virtues shall inhabit, joined  
With those that make a spotless priva●…e mind,  
Who shall refrain, pleased with just power alone,  
All the licentious pleasures of a throne,  
And by example govern, pleased to be  
A King in virtue as in Royalty.   

The troubles now, tha●… threaten Normandy,  
〈◊〉 sent to wake thee from this Lethargy,  
And bring thee Nobler thoughts; and now was rest  
Q●…ite banished from wakened Henry's breast.  
He with amazed thoughts looked up and 〈◊〉;  
But when his eyes were open, the sight was gone;  
And yet on Ireland wholly ran his thought.  
When sudden tidings to his ear were brought  
Of what King Lewis of France, beyond the Seas  
Had then attempted against his Provinces;  
At which moved Henry arms; and crosses over  
As swift as thought, unto the Norman-shore.    

THE REIGN OF King HENRY the Second.  
The Third Book.  
The Argument of the third Book.  

The Kings of France and England at Vendome  
Without a battle, to agreement come.  
Henry returned to England, meets again  
With beauteous Rosamund, and does obtain  
His wanton suit. he builds for her a rare,  
And sumptuous bower. stout Becket's famous jar  
This book declares, and does at large relate  
By what degrees it had disturbed the state.  
His Sovereign's pardon Becket does obtain,  
And to his See returns in peace again.   

Soon were those storms, that threatened Normandy,  
Blown over again; and that hostility  
That Lewis of France in unadvised ire  
Had rashly harboured, did as soon expire  
Before that any dire effects it wrought.  
A peace King Henry's armed presence brought,  
Who now in France arrived. at Vendosme  
To interview the two great Kings do come.  
There Lewis decla●…es his cause; that wrong was done  
To him and France, when Henry crowned his son,  
And with like state (befitting) had not set  
That Crown upon the head of Margaret  
His Princely spouse. but this, which first did seem  
A cause of just hostility to him,  
Was there controlled by all, and judged to be  
On sound advise, a lighter injury  
Then that the hand of War should it decide.  
For such a wrong a promise satisfy'de;  
Which Henry freely gave, and did maintain;  
That he, ere long would crown his son again;  
And then young Margaret should full sharer be  
In all her Husband's state and dignity.  
Then to perform what he had promised there,  
Since these late-raised storms allayed were,  
Back into England Henry crossed again;  
And in his noble breast 'gann entertain  
The thought of Ireland's conquest now; although  
He yet in person did not mean to go;  
But unto Dermot th' Irish Prince he gave  
Free leave from any of his Realms to have  
What Voluntaryes he could carry over,  
That might hereafter to the Irish sho●…e  
Prepare his passage, and begin the wars  
On fitter terms, but not those high affairs  
Of War and Fame could keep imperious Love  
From tyrannising, nor much less remove  
His force, that had before found entrance ther●….  
Again to him did Rosamund appear.  
And what ensued, declare my Muse, resound  
The love of Henry and fair Rosamund;  
Thou knowest it Erato, thou, that to give  
My pen a true intelligence, didst dive  
So lately down into th' Elysian groves,  
And there beheld'st the seat of tragic Loves,  
That far renowned shade of Myrtles, where  
The beauteous troop of Love-slaine dames appear,  
And wear the marks of their sad ruins yet.  
Upon those gloomy grounds no flowers are set  
But such alone, which (as old Poets sing)  
Did from wailed deaths, and tragic changes spring.  
Such as the pale-faced Daffodil, that from  
That too too beauteous boy's self-love did come,  
And purple Hyacinth, that first took growth  
From that so much lamented Spartan youth;  
Adonis short-lived flower of crimson hue,  
That from fair Venus sprinkled Nectar grew  
Dooes there appear, by whom is sadly set  
The pining Clyties pale-leaved Violet.  
Thou Erato, within that Myrtle grove  
Saw'st those famed Ladies, whom their own sad love  
Or others love had ruined, wand'ring there;  
Thou saw'st the Theban Semele appear,  
W●…o too too late complained of amorous jove,  
And now condemned her own ambitious Love.  
There with the fatal shaft did Procris stand,  
Who yet forgave her Lord's mistaking hand;  
Fair Dido too, of life and crown bereft,  
B●… whom the perjured Trojan's sword was left;  
And there by Asps destroyed, sent from above  
In all her glories to th' Elysian grove  
●…at Cleopatra walked; there thou didst see  
The Lesbian Sapph, sad Eryphile,  
Th●… wa●…ling Phaedra, shamed Pasiphaë,  
C●…st ●…hisbe, and incestuous Canace;  
Wit●… them the much lamented Sestian Maid,  
And thousands more; whom whilst thine eyes surveyed  
Thou saw'st the second Henry's Paramour  
Fair Rosamund within that gloomy bower  
Among the rest, and, now returned relate  
The circumstances of her love and fate.   

While those late stirs detained the King in France,  
By power of Cupid's godhead, or by chance  
To Court the beauteous Rosamund had been  
Brought up, to wait on Elinor the Queen.  
There did the longing eyes of Henry find  
Their brightest bliss; the wishes of his mind  
There met their bound, and her at court, to whom  
He had resolved the Court itself should come.  
'twas then too late for him to check desire,  
Or to suppress so strong and sweet a fire  
When he had seen his love again so soon.  
A longer absence might perchance have done  
That cure on him; short absence hurt him more,  
And made his wound far greater than before,  
Absence not long enough to root out quite  
All love, increases love at second sight.  
So fares it now with Henry, who pursues  
His amorous wishes, taught by Love to use  
All those rich aids that Nature could allow,  
That birth and height of fortune could bestow.  
For him his persons worth, his deeds of glory,  
His royal gifts the strongest oratory  
Do proudly plead. all subject-wits must move  
(As second causes serve the will of love)  
For him, that he may his desires enjoy;  
And great enough are his desires t'employ  
All aids. in this fair suit you might descry  
The charms of beauty, power of majesty,  
And all that ancient Poets sung of Love,  
When they ascribed it to Imperial jove.  
When he a bull would for Europa be,  
A shower of gold for beauteous Danae,  
A Swan for Leda, with a thousand more  
Such shapes, to woe and win fair Dames. why so  
Could he change shapes, and gain in them so much?  
Because he was great jove, his power was such.  
But why should jove himself vouchsafe to take  
Such humble forms as these? why should he make  
Himself a bull, a swan, a golden shower?  
Because so great was Loves commanding power.  
And nothing else was shadowed in those things,  
But power of beauty, and the power of Kings.   

How oft in Court the royal Henry strove  
By secret favours to endear his love  
To Rosamund, yet to delude the eyes  
Of Elinor, and her officious spies!  
How many spies a jealous Queen may find!  
Some bounty makes: some Dames an envious mind  
Works to that cruel office, to betray  
And ruin her, that is more graced than they.  
Fair Rosamund so young and innocent,  
She could not fully sound the king's intent,  
Yet loves the grace he does her, loves the thought  
Of that effect which her own beauty wrought;  
And though she feel no flames reciprocal,  
Nor Cupid's golden shaft against her at all  
Had been discharged, she loves king Henry's flame  
As her own trophy. there's no beauteous Dame  
But in that kind's unjust. they often strive  
To gain love there, where they refuse to give;  
And spread their proudly charming nets, t'enthrall  
All hearts, but cherish few or none at all.  
They joy that men are forced to make the suit,  
Yet too much grudge that men should reap the fruit  
Of their desires; and wish those hearts to have,  
Which they resolve to ruin, not to save.  
But Cupid oft is just, and by degrees  
(while they foresee not) works his servants ease,  
Making those beauties, while they boast the fame  
Of firing hearts, approach too near the flame,  
And be themselves at last, the selfsame way,  
By which they meant to triumph, made a prey.   

The open Court, in Henry's own surmise  
Was thought a place too full of ears and eyes,  
Too full of eminence to woe and win  
A maid so coy, so young and bashful, in.  
That love, that he to her had then declared  
By graces at the Court, had but prepared  
Her mind, and taught her how to entertain  
That parley that must his full suit obtain.  
A fair retreat of greater privacy  
Removed from London, then was sought, where he  
Might lodge that jewel which he meant t'enjoy,  
With other agents fitting to employ.  
An ancient Dame skilled in those arts was found  
To aid the king's desires; of most profound  
And subtle wit, of winning speech was she;  
And such in all, ●…he might be thought to be  
No Beldame, but wise Venus lurking in  
A Beldames shape, fair Rosamund to win.  
False Venus for her ends, has oft done so;  
And once, as Homer's wisest Muse did show,  
She took the shape of an old Spartan Dame,  
In Helen's breast to blow Loves powerful flame,  
And subtly win her to the Trojan's bed.  
Perchance this Dame was Venus, or else bred  
In all her arts, and subtle sure as she;  
Who now by Henry was employed to be  
The chiefest Agent in his amorous ends;  
Upon whose skill his sweetest hope depends.   

No farther distance then, at ease, a day  
Might reach from London, stood the place, which they  
Had chose for beauteous Rosamund to bide,  
Within a forest, rarely beautified  
Without, by all that nature could afford;  
Within the house itself was richly stored  
(As guess you may) with what a bounteous King  
To please his dearest Mistress eye would bring.  
The place itself did seem his suit to move,  
And intimate a silent plea for love.  
Such was that bower, where oft the Paphian Queen  
With young Anchises was on Ida seen.  
About this house such groves, springs, gardens were,  
As Poets placed in Love's region, where  
The Westwinds ever blow, fair youth doth stay,  
And keeps from thence old age and care away.   

To this delicious country house is she  
Conducted by a trusty company  
Appointed by the King on her to wait,  
And do her service in the higest state;  
While Henry's love is in such gifts expressed  
As might have power to tempt the chastest breast.  
And each day courts her with a richer shower  
Then reigned on Danae in the brazen tower.  
The subtle Dame that waited on her there,  
On all occasions filled her tender ear  
With Henry's praise and fame, striving t'endearendeare  
His bounty and unaequalled love to her.  
Into a spacious gallery they went,  
Where well-wrought pictures did to life present  
Those things, which ancient tales or stories told;  
Which whilst fair Rosamund did pleased behold,  
And, entertained with fresh variety,  
To several pictures oft removed her eye,  
The cunning Dame picked some; nor would she name  
Those beauties, that had been of losest fame:  
But chose the coyest out; behold (quoth she)  
My noble daughter, the severity  
Of Diana ' there, by which Actaeon died,  
'Cause unawares her naked limbs he spied.  
Yet this (forsooth) sour Goddess (turn your eye  
The other way) by Pan of Arcady  
Is caught, and with a toy of no esteem  
A white-fleeced Ram. see how she follows him  
Into the grove, and does not there disdain  
In kindest sort to ease a Lover's pain.  
See Atalanta the swift running maid,  
Whose cruel beauty to sad death betrayed  
So many noble youths, at last by one  
For three gold apples willingly is won,  
And yields her beauty to Hippomenes.  
Oh Gods▪ what precious gifts indeed are these.  
What is a white fleeced Ram, or golden ball  
Compared to what the greatest Lord of all  
This Western world great Henry can bestow!  
Nay blush not fair one; this conceit just now  
Run cross my breast; nor was it in my thought  
That gifts could merit, or true love be bought.  
But where true love doth reign, gifts may express;  
And that alone is great men's happiness,  
That by so brave a way, as gifts, can show  
That love, that poor ones are enforced to do  
By sighs and tears, and many times too late  
By pining death. behold that cruel fate  
In Iphis there, that hangs himself; and see  
The fair but scornesull Anaxarete,  
Who with dry eyes beholds poor Iphis death,  
Whom only love of her had reft of breath.  
The Gods themselves were moved her spite to see,  
And in revenge of such a cruelty  
Turned her to stone. replies fair Rosamund,  
If love have power to make so deep a wound,  
Has he not justice too? those two should be  
Inseparable in a Deity.  
Why fits he not his shafts to both the parts,  
And wounds reciprocally Lovers hearts?  
That sure were justice. I remember, I  
Once read and pitied Iphis tragedy,  
And wondered that her cruelty was such  
To kill a heart, to whom she owed so much,  
And thought what I in such a case should do.  
The subtle Dame strait answers; and wouldst thou  
Be juster fair one? since we here are free,  
I'll boldly speak; a Monarch pines for thee.  
And what the difference is 'twixt slighting him  
And vulgar loves, weigh in a just esteem.  
I do not speak it only 'cause a King  
in power a greater recompense can bring  
For love then others: juster reasons far  
And truer, fairest Rosamund, there are.  
As kings have greater souls, so they in love  
Do feel far stronger passions than can move  
A private breast: besides those spirits that reign  
o'er other people, less can brook disdain.  
It therefore double cruelty must prove  
To give a stern repulse to those, whose love  
Is both in nature strongest, and beside  
Less patient a denial to abide.  
But most of all consider at how great  
And high a value Monarches lives are set;  
If they should dye for love, that sway the fate  
Of nations, borne to change the world's estate,  
Or settle it; to judge of peace and war;  
Oh what respects of private honour are  
To be in balance put with these. but let  
Me speak in more particular; as great,  
As high a fortune would from Henry's love  
Accrue to Rosamund, should death remove  
Queen Elinor away, as England's thron●…  
And royal title. nor can death alone  
Divide her from him; a divorce may do it,  
And her unkindnesses may move him to it.  
She was divorced before from Lewis of France;  
He brooked her not; great Henry did advance  
Her lessened state again to royalty  
By leave obtained from Rome: and may not he  
Again reject her? may not Rome be won?  
And that for Henry, which for Lewi●… was done?  
Oh couldst thou Fortune's gracious proffers use?  
While thus alone they were discoursing, news  
Was brought them up, the King was lighted there.  
Fair Rosamund was struck with sudden fear,  
Yet such a fear as did contain a kind  
Of joy, and 'twixt the two perplexed her mind▪  
Nor had she leisure to dispute the case,  
The King himself so soon appeared in place.  
Who with so sweet a kiss salutes his love,  
That in his lips his soul did seem to move,  
And meet the object it desired so much.  
His powerful language Cupid aids; and such  
His whole deportment was, as most might move,  
And seem to challenge, by desert, a love.   

Oh what beseidged chastity could long  
Hold out against so many and so strong  
Assaults? such cruel snares, as there were laid,  
What beauty could escape? the noble Maid  
At last (alas) is won to his delight.  
Within whose arms he spends the wanton night.  
Th' unlawful fruit of his desires he tastes,  
And by that action with dishonour blasts  
The pitied sweetness of so fresh a Rose.  
Yet thence, when time maturely shall disclose  
Her burdened womb, (the fates had so decreed)  
A brave and Noble offspring must proceed  
William surnamed Longsword, after by  
His right of Marriage Earl of Salisbury,  
And made the happy father of a fair  
And Noble issue, by that Earl domes heir.   

Great Henry now possessed of that bright gem,  
Which almost equal to his Diadem  
His longing fancy oft had prized before,  
In this sweet trance could slumber evermore;  
here could he dwell, arrived at the height  
Of his desires, and ravished with delight,  
Contemning fame, could be a while content  
To lay aside the cares of government,  
And only feast on Loves transporting joys.  
But soon a weighty business destroys  
His short delight. the Pope is discontent  
That Becket suffers so long banishment;  
And, intermixing threats, requires an end  
Of this debate. King Lewis of France a friend  
To Becket's side, and other Princes too  
Are forward, for their own respects to show  
Themselves complyers to the Pope's desire.  
Hence Henry's wisdom fears some raging fire  
Of war, while he is absent, might break forth  
Beyond the seas, and thinks it therefore worth  
His passage over; assured that the sight  
Of him in arms would those weak Princes fright.   

But yet before the King from hence depart,  
For thee, the dearest jewel of his heart  
Fair Rosamund (as fearing where to hide  
So sweet a pledge) his loving cares provide.  
A sumptuous bower did he at Woodstock build,  
Whose structure by Daedalian art was filled  
With winding Mazes, and perplexed ways;  
Which who so enters, still deceived strays  
Unless by guidance of a clew of thread  
Through those obscure Maeanders he be led.  
There with all objects that delight might lend,  
And with such chosen servants to attend  
And guard her, as had still been faithful known,  
Dooes Henry leave this beauteous Paragon;  
And swiftly passing into Normandy  
Finds there no stirs. in peace and amity  
King Lewis and th' Earl of ●…loys near Ambois were  
Both met, to parley with King Henry there;  
And mediate with him for Becket's peace,  
That all dissension now at last might cease.  
Six years in exile had the Prelate lived  
By France supported, since he first had striv'de  
Against his King, and for the Clergy cause  
Oppos'de himself against the royal laws.  
Which made the name of Becket sound so far.  
Declare, my Muse, from whence this fatal jar  
Arose; and from th' original relate  
By what degrees it had disturbed the State.   

The English Clergy (if we trust record  
Of 
* The Monk of Nuborough. lib. 2. has all this.  Monks then living) at that time was stored  
With all the blessings temporal; they flowed  
In wealth; with strange immunityes endowed;  
And wanted nought, but what they ought to have,  
Knowledge and piety; which essence gave  
First to that sacred style of Clergymen.  
Who does not know what fatal darkness than  
The mourning face of Europe had o'erspread?  
How all th●… Arts and Sciences were fled,  
And learning's sun, to these dark regions set,  
Was not recovered from Arabia yet.  
As much did wisest writers of those times  
Complain of their licentious Clergyes crimes.  
The powerful Prelates strove not to correct  
The vices of their Clerks, but to protect  
Their persons against the justice of the State,  
And to affrout the civil Magistrate;  
And pleading privilege, opposed to stand  
Not against the Vice but justice of the Land.  
The meaner Clerks by this impunity  
With greater boldness durst offend. that high  
And sacred order (so it ought to be)  
Was grown a refuge for impiety,  
And not a burden but an ease to men,  
Which worst of people sought; and thither then  
As to a place of safety Vices fled,  
And justice only thence was banished.   

An hundred murders done by Clergymen  

* The Monk of Nuborough. Ibidem.  And more, in those nine years that Henry then  
Had reigned o'er England, were before him proved,  
At which King Henry was in justice moved;  
Since it appeared no punishments at all,  
Or those too unproportionably small,  
Too slight for that abhorred and crying sin  
On the delinquents had inflicted been  
By those that claimed the power to punish them.  
King Henry weighing in a just esteem  
How much the Land and State was wronged then  
By this pretended power of Clergymen,  
Strove to revive those ancient Laws, which were  
Established by his Royal Grandfather  
Wise Henry Beauclarke to secure the State,  
And from the Papal claims to vindicate  
The Royal power. those Laws, while Stephen kept  
Unjustly England's Crown, a while had slept;  
Nor durst that King that had so weak a cause,  
So bad a title, to maintain those Laws  
In contestation against the power of Rome.  
Then is the time for Papal claims to come,  
When Kings estates are in distress, and stand  
On doubtful terms, as almost every land  
Of Christendom has been too sadly taught.  
King Stephen knew not against whom he fought.  
He thought the Empress Maude alone had been  
The foe to his estate; but Rome stepped in.  
So in the age that followed, when King john  
Unjustly did ascend the Regal throne,  
And England's Peers in arms against him rose,  
King john supposed he had no other foes  
But only them; against them his strength he bend▪  
But found a sterner foe Pope Innocent.  
'twas he that watched their trials, and his prey  
That side was sure to be, that lost the day,  
(So Crows on Armies wait.) because King john  
Could not against them guard his usurped Crown  
The Pope claims that: which whenthe King resigns,  
His Holiness strait to the King inclines,  
Whom he before had cursed. the right was tried,  
When the Pope's power, and ends were ratified.  
To Arthur and the realm the wrong was done;  
To Innocent the satisfaction.   

Those wholesome Laws the noble Henry striv'de  
To have by act of Parliament reviv'de,  
Which he had therefore called at Westminster.  
The Prelates there and Peers assembled were.  
The Peers and Commons all approov'de the Laws;  
Some Prelates only judging that the cause  
Of holy Church would be impeached thereby,  
Refused by their assent to ratify  
The King's desire; others more moderate,  
Who weighed how great a profit to the State  
Loss of a shadow from the Church would be,  
Would gladly yield. amongst those that did deny  
Becket was stoutest in resolve, as he  
Was highest far in place and dignity.  
He was the stay of all, and kept the rest  
From then assenting to the King's request.   

But how this famous Becket grew in state,  
And whence he sprung, Calliope, relate.  
A London Citizen by birth he was,  
But of an active spirit, and for place  
Of high employments ever seemed to be  
By nature moulded, borne for dignity.  
The gracious fortunes of his youth had brought  
Him first to Court attendance, and there taught  
Him all those wily garbs; from thence the war  
Received him as an able Soldier;  
In which he came to be implanted high  
In Henry's grace, than Duke of Normandy.  
Who, when he first gained England's royal power,  
Created Becket his Lord-Chancellour.   

Oh haddst thou there great Henry, stayed thy grace,  
And not advanced him to that higher place,  
More happy far (perchance) had Becket lived,  
Nor on those terms had King and Clergy strived.  
Thou hadst not then that sad example been  
Of penitence, nor had Religion seen  
Those fooleries that heathens may deride,  
When Becket was so strangely Deify'de.   

But Canterburyes' Prelate Theobald dead,  
The King promoted Becket in his stead,  
Though the wise Empress (whose direction  
In other things was followed by her son)  
Mislik'de the choice; so all the Clergy did,  
As than their speech and writings 
* Houden. Chronicon de passione & mi●…aculis Thomae.  testify'de,  
That he a Courtier and a Soldier  
Not learned enough, was far unfit to wear  
So high a Mitre▪ but the King's sole grace  
Was strength enough to lift him to the place.  
Which by those factious stirs that must ensue,  
Shall both the King himself, and Becket rue.   

But now when he denied to give assent  
Unto those laws proposed in Parliament,  
The King was moov'de; the other Bishops all  
Fearing his wrath, from Becket's party fall.  
He stiffly stands alone, although to gain  
Him to his side, the King had striv'de in vain.  
Pope Alexander, though he knew the cause  
To be his own, and g●…eatly feared those laws,  
Yet since his Papal diade●… did stand  
On doubtful te●…mes, and th'emperors strong hand  
Did then support the Antipope, he strove  
In every thing to keep King Henry's love.  
He therefore wrote to Becket to assent  
Without all clauses, to the King's intent.  
Becket repairs to Woodstock to the King,  
Humbly submits himself, and promising  
That he now freely without any clause  
Of reservation, would accept the Laws,  
Is by the King received to grace again;  
Who much rejoices, thinking that the main  
Opposer of him, now was grown his own.  
A Council strait he calls at Clarendon  
Assured that all the Bishops now would sign  
What he proposed to them; the rest incline  
To his desire; Becket revolts again,  
Seems to repent his promise, to complain  
That he in that had rashly sinned before,  
A●…d in that kind resolves to sin no more.   

The King deluded, and enraged at this  
So unexpected a revolt of his,  
Threatens th' Archbishop; but a Prince's threats  
Cannot prevail with him; nor all th' entreats  
Ofth ' other Bishops, and those Peers that love  
The quiet of the State, have power to move  
His resolution▪ now the fatal wound  
Was grown past cure; nor must this kingdom bound  
The maladies of such a spreading sore.  
King Henry's filled with gr●…efe and scorn; the more  
His great soul weighs the meanness of his foe,  
The more his wrath fed by disdain doth grow.  
He grieves, yet scorns to grieve. so when a net,  
Which treacherous hunters in the woods have set,  
To b●…●… snare for smaller beasts, doth stay  
(By chance) a noble Lion in his way,  
The royal beast with greater shame than grief  
Tears his base bonds, and almost scorns relief.  
The more King Henry calls to mind how he  
Had raised this Becket from a low degree  
Against the wills of all, he still doth find  
More fuel for his wrath-enflamed mind.  
At last resolved he cities him to appear  
Before his judges, and to answer there  
Upon account for such large sums, as he  
When Chancellor of England formerly  
Had from the King detained, for Seignioryes  
Unjustly held, for proud enormities,  
And disobedience in a high degree  
Unto the King, his state and dignity.  
To these will Becket scarce vouchsafe replies,  
But (being no Layman) at their Courts denies  
At all to answer, or obey their doom,  
From thence appealing to the Court of Rome.  
But that discharged him not; the Parliament  
(Then at 
a Math. Paris.  Northhampton) did with one consent  
Confiscate all his goods; the Bishops there  

b Gervase of Dover.  Pronounced him by the mouth of Chichester  
To be a perjured and a factious man;  
Disclaimed him for their Metropolitan,  
And all obedience to him. Becket now  
Wearied with these calamities that grow  
And fearing worse disgraces every day,  
〈◊〉 secret me●…nes at last to scape away,  
And from the kingdom in disguise is gone  
To plead his cause before the Papal throne.   

Oh what unwearyed Muse at large cantle  
Each several jar that from that day befell?  
How Becke●… to the Pope resigned his Pall?  
How in his wrath king Henry banished all  
Beckets' allies and kin? how oft against Rome  
In contestation he was forced to come,  
The Papal power against the royal right?  
How oft it was debated in the sight  
Of Christendom? how Henry by entreaties  
Sometimes, and sometimes, like a King with threats  
Main●…ain'd his cause? how oft the dreadful doom  
And interdicting thunderbolt of Rome  
Was feared in England? and for Beckets' jar  
Whole nations likely to be drawn to war?  
How oft did foreign Princes interpose,  
Some to increase the wound, and some to close?  
How many vain Commissions had been spent?  
How many fruitless Legacies were sent?  
How many days of bootless parleys set?  
How of●… with him the King in person met?   

Seven years had past since this debate began;  
Six●… years had Becke●… as a banished man,  
At Pontinew, and Saint Columba lived  
Maintained by Lewis of France, who oft had strived  
Or seemed to strive (and so had Flanders Lord)  
In vain (till now) in making this accord.  
But now accord (although in vain●…) is made.  
For though King Lewis and Bloy●…es Earl persuade  
King Henry all offences to forget  
That pa●…t before, and Becket to submit;  
Though both agreement make, and Becket be  
With Henry's leave returned to his See,  
The Church from thence no lasting concord finds.  
Seldom is factious fire in haughty minds  
Extinguished but by death▪ it oft, like fire  
Suppressed, breaks forth again, and blazes higher.  
This end ends not the strife, nor draws more nigh  
The Church's peace, but Beckets' tragedy.    

THE REIGN OF King HENRY the Second.  
The Fourth Book.  
The Argument of the fourth Book.  

Th' o●…casion here, and Noble deeds are shown  
That first brought Ireland to the English Crown.  
From Wales Earl Strongbow and Fitz-Stevans bring  
(In aid of Dermot Leinsters banished King)  
Their forces over. Archbishop Becket slain  
D●…oes with his blood his own Cathedral stain.  
King Henry sends to plead his innocence  
Before the Pope; to England goes; from thence  
Himself in person into Ireland sails;  
In which his power without a war prevails,  
And gains that land without the aid of swords.  
In royal state he feasts the Irish Lords;  
And hears the w●…nders of that I'll. thence he  
To England sails, and th●…nce to Normandy.   

Fair Flora's pride into the Earth again  
Was sunk; cold Winter had begun his reign,  
And summoned beauteous daylight to restore  
To night those hours, which he had stolen before.  
King Henry then in Normandy resolved  
To make abode, and in his thoughts revolved  
Th'a●…aires of Ireland. tidings daily came  
From thence, and spread his valiant servants fame,  
What noble actions they had there achieved,  
How many towns already were received  
By that small strength which they transported over  
From Southern Wales unto the Irish shore.  
Fame had already filled his Princely ear  
With what Fitz-Stephens, what Fitz-Girald there  
What noble Raimond had with handfuls won,  
And private men against a Land had done;  
Be●…des what great Earl Strongbow's actions were,  
〈◊〉 was already grown the Lands fear.   

Fame is not only due (though louder fare  
She needs must speak of those) to deeds that are  
By potent Monarches or huge armies done,  
That change the world's estate, and overrun  
With speed the farthest spreading Emperies.  
No deeds of worth can fame at all despise,  
Though done by few and those the meanest men;  
Nor did she only sound Rome's glories then  
When Pompey's lawrelled Chariot showed at once  
The vanquished West and Eastern nations:  
Nor when great Caesar's triumphs did extend  
F●…om farthest Thule to Cyrene's end:  
She did record Rome's infant honours too;  
What poor Quirinus could against Tatius do:  
What Tullus then against Alba wrought; and now  
Who does not Numa and Aegeria know?  
How king Porsenna did for Tarquin come?  
How ●…ocles kept the bridge? how Claelia swum?  
The worthy deeds of her beginning age  
Gave to her after greatness fair presage:  
Her greatness after gave this age renown,  
And made her infant honours clearly known.  
Their noble deeds in Ireland gave presage  
Of her full conquest in this later age:  
Her conquest now shall their first deeds renown  
As long as Ireland serves the English crown.   

The year before, when first the Western winds  
Blew on the waters, when all various kinds  
Of flowers began to beautify the spring,  
(In aid of D●…rmot, Leinsters' banished King,  
To whom that promise was engaged before)  
The brave Fitzstephans launching from the shore  
Of Wales, with three tall ships accompanied  
With his stout brother by the mother's side  
(Fitz-Gerald) safely crossed the Ocean,  
And with their Soldiers landed at the Banne  
A little creek near Wexford, then scarce named,  
But ever since by his arrival famed.  
The ●…ext day after on the self same shore  
Maurice de Pendergast with two ships more  
(Part of Fitz-Stephens company) arrived;  
And there by joyful Dermot were received;  
Who by that Prince his guidance, and his aid  
With th'English colours and their arms displayed  
With dauntless courage, able to supply  
The want of number in their company,  
To Wexford marched; which by assault they won  
The country near together, with the town,  
Dermot Mac Morough, for such valour showed,  
Upon Fitzstephans thankfully bestowed.  
There planted they; that town of all the rest  
Was first by English victory possessed,  
And has a lasting colony remained;  
Which through all changes ever has retained  
The English manners, their attire, and (though  
With Irish somewhat mixed) their language too.   

When famous Strongbow had in Wales received  
The news of what Fitzstephans had achieved,  
With ●…resh supplies unto the Irish shore  
He sends his friend the valiant Reimond over,  
And shortly after with far greater bands  
The noble Earl himself in Ireland lands  
Within the bay of Waterford; which town  
The next day after by assault he won.  
Thither king Dermot came, and brought with him  
His beauteous daughter Eva, Ireland's gem,  
The precious cause which drew the Earl so far,  
The fair reward of his victorious war.  
This beauteous Lady, when her father fled  
For aid to England, then was promised  
To noble Strongbow, and with her for dour  
Th'inheritance of Leinsters' regal power▪  
Which here the King performs, and with as high  
A state as might befit their dignity  
The marriage rites are celebrated now.  
Mars smooths the horrors of his wrinkled brow,  
And folds his bloody colours up a while:  
The Paphian Queen in that delicious smile,  
With which she charms the Thracian God, appears;  
His purple robe the pleased Hymen wears,  
While Dermot gives (with right of all those lands)  
His beauteous daughter into Strongbow's hands.  
Nor was this marriage managed alone  
By those two Deities; but from his throne  
Great jove looked down, and made that knot to be  
A work belonging to his Deity;  
By which himself did into union bring  
Two spacious lands; and by that marriage ring,  
Which noble Strongbow to his bride combined,  
To England's crown the Realm of Ireland joined.   

A Lady's love, when Dermot was decayed  
In state and power, first brought this foreign aid,  
And to his native land did him restore.  
A Lady's love had banished him before,  
And of his crown and country him bereft.  
The King of Meth had in an Island left  
(While he far off into the land removed)  
His fair but wanton Queen, who long had loved  
This Dermot●…einsters ●…einsters king with flames unchaste.  
His love on her, as her's on him was placed.▪  
Her Lord's departure, from her selfe, or fame  
Had Dermot learned, and to the ●…land came;  
Where soon he gained his wish; a willing prey  
From thence he took the wanton Queen away.  
Then, as when once the ●…rojan Paris came,  
And stole from Greece that far renowned Dame,  
'Twas not her husband's strength alone that sought  
Revenge: a cause o●… that foul nature brought  
All Greece in Arms; the Princes joined in one,  
And drew a thousand ships to Ilium-  
So when this Prince his fatal Helen gained:  
The land was moved, her wronged lord complained  
T'ambitious Rhotherike Connaughts King, who claimed  
The style of Ireland's Monarch, and had aimed  
At conquest of the land▪ he wondrous glad  
Of such a fair pretence, as now he had,  
Raised his own forces, and against Leinsters' King  
Did all th'incensed neighbour-Princes bring.  
Whose force when Dermot could no way withstand,  
Bereft ●…f all his strengths, he fled the land,  
And to great Henry's royal Court; whom fame  
Then spoke the greatest king in Europe, came.  
The King, that then remained in Aquitaine,  
This Irish Prince did gladly entertain,  
Whom after feasting and magnificent  
Rewards bestowed, he with free licence sent  
To England; there to gather without let  
What voluntaries he from thence could get.  
In Southern Wales Earl Strongbow then remained,  
Fitzstephans too▪ whose aid the King obtained  
On fair conditions. to Fitzstephans he  
(If won) did promise Wexfords' signory,  
On th'earl his daughter Eva to bestow,  
Which promises were both performed now.   

The marriage feasts of Strongbow now were done,  
The revels ended all, and Mars begun  
Again his threatening colours to display,  
When th'earl and old king Dermot gan to weigh  
What acts remained further to be done,  
And leaving there sufficient garrison,  
Through Leinster all along they took their way,  
For Dublin bent; the country open lay  
To their victorious arms on every side.  
No foe durst meet them, or their force abide.  
Proud Rhoderike himself swelled with the style  
Of universal Monarch of the I'll,  
Was glad to lurk within his proper bounds,  
And keep those safe retreats, the boggy grounds  
Which in his own peculiar Connagh lay.  
Thus unresisted Strongbow kept his way,  
Till he at last to Dublin came, which soon  
By force, and terror of his name he won.   

fain would my Muse in this fair field proceed.  
Of Ireland's conquest, and each noble deed  
A●…cheived there; of trophies rais'd, to fame  
The arms of England and great Henry's name  
Feign would she sing. but Beckets' fatal jar  
Again revives, and from a nobler war  
Draws back her eager flight▪ and turns again  
Her song ●…riumphant to a tragic strain.   

By this King Henry in his active mind  
Great deeds and foreign conquests had designed  
Secure from trouble (as in vain he thought)  
Since Beckets' peace and reconcilement wrought)  
That might 'twixt State and Clergy rise at home.  
When lo from England swift-winged fame was come,  
And to his grieved ear sad tidings brought  
What reaks his stout Archbishop there had wrought  
Since last he did his dignity obtain,  
And to his See returned in peace again,  
That amongst his fellow Bishops, some of late  
He did suspend, some excommunicate  
For actions passed before (from whence it plain  
Appeared, old grudges were revived again)  
As al●… that were, when Henry crowned his son,  
Assistants at the coronation  
With York's Archbishop; for that office he  
Claimed to belong to Canterbury's See.  
Nor would he then absolve them, though in their  
Behalf, a Suitor young King Henry were.  
While this was rumoured there, to second fame,  
To old King Henry the wronged Bishops came,  
And to his ear declared their grievances.  
He vexed at Beckets' wilful stubborness,  
Such words (though general) in his choler spoke  
As in some breasts too deep impression took.  
Four knights, that heard, by chance, the king's discourse,  
As Morvile, Tracy, Britain, and Fitz-Vrse,  
(Unhappy men) inflamed with such a rage  
And erring zeal, as no succeeding age  
Shall ever praise, resolve in heat to do  
For Henry's sake, what Henry's self must rue,  
And their sad memories as long as fame  
Has wings or tongues, shall feel in lasting shame.  
From Normandy without the King's consent,  
These four unhappy Knights for England went,  
To execute what they had there designed,  
And fond thought would please their Sovereign's mind  
Archbishop Becket's death; but found too soon  
What fatal service they to him had done.  
How sad a cure, fond wretches, have you found?  
For balm, you power in poison to the wound,  
And make that death, which then was but a sore.  
King Henry's cause is lost for evermore  
If Becket suffer so; yourselves are lost,  
The King must suffer; all, but Rome are crossed.  
While Becket bleeds, while you bear lasting stain,  
While Henry grieves▪ the Pope alone shall gain.  
●…ate seemed to pity Henry, and decree  
That he meanwhile should breathe in Normandy,  
And from his England absent should remain  
Whilst England was defiled with such a stain   

To Canterbury the four Knights at last  
Armed with their followers came, and freely passed  
Into the Bishop's palace; their intent  
Unknown, had filled with fear and wonderment  
The people's hearts, who flocking up and down  
Af●…ighted all but Becket; he alone,  
Whose head that sudden danger threatened, he  
In looks and gesture unappalled, and free  
From all dismay, their coming did receive,  
And fearless answers to their threatenings give,  
As if his courage strove not to assuage  
At all, but to exasperate their rage.  
Nor could that stoutness hasten on his fate  
So soon; but or their faltering hands forgot  
To act it then: or else unhappy they  
Not fully yet resolved upon the way,  
A while for Counsel, did retire from him,  
How much the respite of that little time  
Did afterwards increase their monstrous guilt!  
Else in the Palace had his blood been spilt,  
And not the sacred Temple made to be  
The seat of that inhuman butchery.  
Which on their crime by circumstance of place,  
Must set a fouler and more horrid face.   

While thus the Knights reti●…e; the Monks in care  
Of Beckt's safety, to himself declare  
How great a danger he was in; desire  
That from the Palace strait he would retire,  
And to the Church for safeguard fly: but he  
Too full of fatal magnanimity  
Disdains to stir; but there resolves to stay.  
By force, at last, they hurry him away,  
When words prevail not; and (in vain alas)  
Into the Temple as a safer place  
Convey his person. but not all the awe  
Which so Divine a place from men should draw,  
Not all the r●…verend Robes that Becket wore,  
Nor th' high and sacred o●…ice which he bore  
(When once those furious Knights were entered in)  
Kept him from death, nor them from deadly sin.  
In all his Robes, the great Archbishop slain  
Did with his blood his own Cathedral stain.   

How much did every fatal circumstance  
In this abhorred act of theirs, advance  
Thy ●…ame, oh Becket? their unhallowed rage  
Made thee not only pitied by the age,  
But worshipped too. for them no infamy  
Is thought enough, no dignity for thee.  
How ill the people in so blind an age  
Can keep a mean in reverence, or in rage?  
They first pronounce thee innocent to be,  
A Martyr then, and then a Deity.  
To thee they all will pray; and to thy Tomb  
Shall greatest Kings in adoration come;  
Even he, to whom thou living owd'st thy knee,  
Before thy shrine shall prostrate worship thee.  
Whose gorg●…ous wealth and lustre shall outshine  
All other shrines; as relics most divine,  
Not only shall thy nobler parts be worn  
In gold and gems; but men shall strive t'adorn  
Thy meanest garments, and obeisance do  
To thy ridiculously-holy shoe.  
Thither from far shall Pilgrims come to pray.  

* Aurea legenda in vita Thomae.  Nay, in her danger once a bird (they say)  
(Could we believe that any bird would be  
Of such a Christian faith) did pray to thee.   

Soon to King Henry, then in Normandy,  
Did this sad news of Becket's murder fly,  
And filled his pensive soul with heaviness.  
For well he judg'de (nor proved it any less)  
'Twould be by all the Christian Princes thought  
That that foul deed by his command was wrought.  
But more he grieved that he had rashly spoke  
Such words before in Chollers heat, as took  
That bad impression in the Knights. alas  
He grieved to think into how sad a ●…ase  
Those wretched men had plunged themselves to do  
Him service, as they thought. they durst not now  
Appear at all. into the North they fled,  
And there alone their lives in sorrow led;  
And all of them (if we may trust to fame)  
Within four years to ends untimely came.   

King Lewis of France, or for the love he bore  
To slaughtered Becket (showed so oft before,)  
Or else for envy at the high renown  
And power of Henry, that eclipsed his own  
(Since now Religion gave him fair pretence)  
Pursued his ends, with all the vehemence  
Of words or prayers, to exasperate  
Pope Alexander against King Henry's state,  
Beseeching him, he would avenge with all  
The arms of holy Church, th' unworthy fall  
And cruel murder of so dear a son.  
The like had other neighbouring Princes done.  
But Henry full of fears dispatched from thence  
Embass●…dours to plead his innocence  
Before the Pope, and there to testify  
What grief he took for Becket's tragedy,  
Beseeching him he would be pleased to send  
His Legates thither, that might hear, and end  
So sad a cause; for much he feared from Rome  
An Interdiction against his Realms would come.  
But soon the matter could not have an end.  
The fates were pleased it should a while depend  
Until successes of a fairer kind  
Had given some ease to Henry's grieved mind,  
And Ireland's conquest prosperously gained  
Allayed the sorrow he for this sustained.  
His thoughts are wholly bend on Ireland now;  
In person thither he intends to go;  
And, fearing interruptions, to prevent  
What Bulls or mischiefs might from Rome be sent  
To trouble England, ere he leave the Land  
Of Normandy, he lays a strait command  
On th' officers of ev●…ry Port to see  
That no Briefe-carrier, without certainty  
Of his estate, intent, and business  
Should be permitted thence to cross the Seas.   

Nor long in England did the King abide;  
No cause of stay was there, but to provide  
Such force and fit retinue, as from thence  
Might guard him over in high Magnificence  
To Ireland's conquest, like himself; which soon  
Unto the height of his desires was done.   

At Milford-haven by the Kings command  
His whole retinue met; a gallant band  
Of English gentry waited on the shore  
In glittering arms to follow Henry over;  
Whose lustre might to those rude Irish bring  
Astonishment, and show how great a King  
D●…d now arrive to take possession there;  
Whose name before they had been taught to fear  
By what Earl Strong-●…ow in that region,  
And brave Fitz stephan's with the rest had done.  
B●…t oh (too cruel chance) how near almost  
Had all that valour and themselves be●…ne lost  
B●… Henry's former jealousies? he heard  
Of their renowned and prosperous deeds; and feared  
That so much puissance by them was shown  
Not to advance his honour but their own,  
And for themselves that they had conquered there.  
Some envious spirits fed his jealous fear;  
●…or which he made a Proclamation  
No Victuals, Armour, or Munition  
Should from his Kingdoms be transported over  
For Strongbow's succour, to the Irish shore;  
And that his Subjects, that did there remain,  
●…efore next Easter should return again;  
This Proclam●…tion had so much distressed  
(Not long before) ●…arle Strongbow and the rest,  
Th●…t all▪ which had been conquered in that coast,  
A●…d the●… themselves had u●…terly been lost,  
If 〈◊〉 valour had not striven with fate,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 them. what need I here relate  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉, R●…imond, and Fitz▪ Girald were  
〈◊〉 in 〈◊〉, and their action there?  
Wh●…n 〈◊〉 great Kings with all the strength almost  
That could be levied in th'adjoining coast  
〈◊〉 these worthies, how they iss●…'d out  
With courages miraculously stout,  
A●…d with succ●…sse as high; and marched that day  
〈◊〉 all their foes with victory away?  
Or how Miles Cogan chased the King of Meth  
Away from Dublin walls and in the death  
Of many thousands sealed his victory?  
Or how Fitzstephans, with a company  
(Too small almost to be believed) did guard  
His fort near Wexford town, besieged hard  
By full three thousand Irish, when no strength  
No force could make him yield, until at length  
A false report the perj●…r'd foes devised,  
And with the hazard of t●…eir souls, surprised  
Fitzstephans body? these calamities  
Did through King Henry's jealousies arise  
'Gainst those that planted first that Irish coast.  
And time it was, ere all again were lost,  
The King himself upon that shore should land,  
Whose force no Irish Princes durst withstand.   

Novembers cold had robbed the forest trees  
Of all their dress; and Winter 'gan to freeze  
Small lakes; when not the season of the year  
(Though judged by some untimely) nor the fear  
Of those rough Irish Seas had power to keep  
The King from passing over; into the deep  
They put, and hoist sails; the Eastern wind  
Blew fair, and furthered what the King designed.  
By whose auspicious gales he safely c●…me  
To land at Waterford; when swiftest Fame  
Through every part of Ireland flies, to bring  
The feared arrival of so grea●… a King.  
And what that fame had wrought was quickly seen,  
So soon came Ireland's greatest Princes in;  
Dermon Mac Arthur the Prince of Cork, while yet  
The King stayed there, came freely to submit  
Himself a subject to him; and the like  
Did D●…nold do, the Prince of Limericke.  
Who, to procure his peace, swore fealty.  
Both whom great Henry sent away with high  
And rich rewards: and placed in the Towns  
Of Cork, and Limricke English Garrisons.   

The King when this at Waterford was done,  
Leaving Fi●…z-Barnard to maintain the town,  
Marched with his gallant troops in fair array  
●…o Dublin ward, where ere he made his stay,  
The greatest Lords of all the Countries nigh,  
As Ophelan the King of Ossory,  
And Ororike of Meth, to Henry came;  
With other Princes of the highest name  
As Mac Talewie, O carel, Ochadese,  
Othwely, Gillmeholoch. all of these  
In person did submit themselves; agree  
To be his vassals, and swear fealty.  
But Rotherike, that ●…ore the Monarch's name  
And King of Connaught then, no nearer came  
Then to that famous river Shenin's side,  
Which his rough Connaught doth from Meth divide,  
And there was met by Hugh de Lacie, and  
Fitz-Aldeline sent by the King's command  
To take his hostages; which freely there  
He did deliver and allegiance swear.  
By his example all the greatest Lords  
Did freely yield to Henry's name. no swords  
To gain that land were drawn; no blood was lost;  
No war so great an Lands conquest cost.   

Now Christmas was; which in all heights of state  
The royal Henry strove to celebrate;  
That those rude Irish people there might see  
And reverence so great a Majesty.  
Who flock in greatest companies, to gaze  
At this unusual lustre; with amaze  
They see his great attendance, and admire  
His sumptuous plate, his servants rich attire;  
While plenteous Ireland to their feasting boards  
The Seas provisions and the lands affords.   

Down with the Irish Kings great Henry sat.  
So showed of old Imperial Caesar's state,  
When barbarous kings great Rome did entertain:  
Who viewed with wonder such a Monarch's train,  
And gorgeous court. such did old Poets strive  
To make those feasts, which jove was pleased to give  
To rural Deities, and to admit  
The Sylvans rough, and rustic Fauns to sit  
At his celestial board; while wondering they  
The radiant glories of great jove survey;  
While they behold the beauteous Trojan stand  
A waiter by; and from his snowwhite hand  
Give cups; and ravished with the sound, admire  
To hear bright Phoebus and the lovely choir  
Of his nine daughters to heavens glorious King  
The Pallenaean triumphs sweetly sing.   

As much as those rude people wondered at  
King Henry's sumptuous court, and royal state:  
As much the English Courtiers did admire  
The Irish Princes fashions and attire,  
Their different garbs and gestures; while each eye  
Is pleased in viewing such variety,  
And to each other both afford delight.  
When wine and Cates had weakened appetite,  
The noble Henry with a smiling cheer  
Offers discourses, longing much to hear  
More of their country's nature, thus at last  
To Dublins reverend Prelate, who was placed  
Not far from him at board, the King began;  
Grave Father, since I know your wisdom can  
Dive deep into the qualities and state  
Of things, and search what old records relate  
Too much abstruse for vulgar brains to find;  
From your deep skill inform our longing mind,  
Of what wise Nature for this spacious I'll  
Has wrought in tempers of the air and soil,  
And those famed wonders, where she does display  
Prodigious power, and leaves her usual way,  
As if she meant to mock the purblind eye  
And feeble search of our Philosophy.  
Loud fame has spread them (though obscurely) o'er  
All parts of this our Western world; nor more  
Was scorched Africa famed by elder time  
For breeding wonders, than your Irish clime  
Has been to us renowned for her rare  
And strange endowments. to our ear declare  
What you grave Father by tradition  
Or by experience know▪ the King had done;  
Attentive silence all the Princes make;  
When thus the Bishop, humbly bowing, spoke.  
If I relate by Henry's high command  
The wondrous treasures of my native land,  
Let him be pleased with a gracious ear  
To censure all; if I endeavour here  
Not, what is smoothly probable, to show,  
But that which is (although most strangely) true.  
Yet there let nought seem strange, where we unfold  
The works of him that could do what he would;  
Nor let us say some things against nature be,  
Because such things as those we seldom see:  
We know not what is natural; but call  
Those acts, which God does often, natural;  
Where if we weighed with a religious eye  
The power of doing, not the frequency,  
All things alike in strangeness to our thought  
Would be, which he in the creation wrought.  
But in those rare and wondrous things may we  
The freedom of that great Creator see;  
When he at first the course of things ordained,  
And Nature within certain bounds restrained,  
That laws of seeds and seasons may be known,  
He did not then at all confine his own  
Almighty power; but whensoe'er he will  
Works against the common course of Nature still,  
Those works may we view with a wondering eye,  
And take delight in that variety.  
Such prodigies the most are seen (as some  
Have thought) in Isles and places farthest from  
The centre of the world; as here they may  
Behold, that do this Western I'll survey.  
But ere we mention those rare wonders here,  
So please great Henry, to his sacred ear  
We will at first in general unfold  
What temper, fruits, and wealth the land does hold,  
Her wholesome air; her blessings manifold;  
That you great King may in that glass behold  
Th'almighty's love to you, that gave so soon  
So easily, so much to England's crown.   

Ireland is fair, though rudely clad, although  
She want that dress that other Nymphs can show,  
Who by long wealth and art are civilised.  
Nor therefore let this land be de●…pis'd,  
As if that Nature negligent had been  
In moulding her, or there no care were seen  
Of jove at all. rare are th'endowments, know  
That he at first did on this I'll bestow.  
And largely may for humane health suffice.  
Although she want the pompous merchandise  
Which Eastern countries to the world afford;  
Though not with purple, nor rich scarlet stored;  
Although the silk worms precious toil she want  
To clothe for show her gay inhabi●…ant;  
Though from the wounded en●…railes of her ground  
No gold be digged, no precious pearls be found  
Within these lakes, nor from the glistering rocks  
Rich diamonds gathered. plenteous are her flocks  
And grain. she wants the means of those sad crimes  
That do infest the gaudy Eastern climes;  
She brings no poisons, such as guilty gold,  
And cups of choicest gems too often hold.  
Her harmless grounds no baleful herbs do bear,  
Nor Aconite can Stepdame's gather here,  
Arachne's poison is not understood,  
Nor those sad plagues, which from Medusa's blood  
In Africa grew, and through all lands were spread.  
This I'll alone ne'er felt the Gorgon's head.  
Most equal temper does this Island hold.  
When Phoebus sits in Capricorn, the cold  
May well be suffered without Vulc●…ns aid,  
And Cancer's heat endured without a shade.  
In winter's cold, as Summer's heat, the field  
Is richly clothed, and does fresh herbage yield.  
From whence in june we are not forced to mow;  
Nor do our cattle stalls in winter know.  
Within this air no sad contagions breed;  
Nor does this land the aid of Phoebus' need.  
Without diseases they enjoy their breath,  
And know no mean 'twixt perfect health and death.   


* Silu▪ Giraldus Cambr. relates all these wonders.  But if those things that more prodigious are,  
You be desirous in particular  
To hear related: few amongst many take.  
In Mounsters' Northern part there is a lake,  
Within whose bosom two famed Lands stand;  
The one far greater in extent of land  
Then other is; of nature strange; into  
The greater I'll no woman ere could go,  
Nor any female creature, but strait died.  
Th' experiment in beasts we oft have tried;  
And oft observed in birds. from places nigh  
Male birds securely to that Island fly,  
And pick the blossoms from each budding stem.  
Thither the females dare not follow them,  
As if by nature they were taught to fly  
The hidden cause of that mortality.   

But in the lesser I'll none dye at all,  
Which they the Island of the living call.  
For in that Island oft have many men  
By extreme sickness long tormented been,  
When nature seemed quite spent, and they in vain  
Have wished for death, but could not death obtain,  
Till that in boats into the Island by  
They have been carried, and there strait they die.   

Another I'll, which Aren named is,  
Within the Western part of Connaughtlyes',  
In which men's bodies dead unburied lie  
In open air, yet never putrify.  
Children through many ages in that place  
Their father's, grandsire's, and great grandsire's face  
Unchanged see and know▪ they need not carve  
Fair Statues, nor draw pictures to preserve  
The memory of their dead ancestors;  
By which men know deceased Emperors.  
In stead of Statues their own bodies lie  
Discerned and known by their posterity.  
Another wonder does that Island yield.  
All parts of ●…reland else with mice are filled;  
But there no mice breed, nor can live upon  
That ground; if thither they be brought, they run  
With haste to drown themselves in water nigh;  
Or if prevented, instantly they die.   

A Well there is in Monster to be seen;  
Within whose water whosoe'er hath been  
Once drenched, his hair strait takes a hoary die.  
Another fountain of quite contrary  
Effect to that, in Ulster springs▪ for there  
Those that have washed once, how old so ere,  
Shall never after have an hoary hair.  
Thither the beauteous women do repair;  
And all those curious men that too much fear  
The Ensigns of old age, are bathed there.  
In Connaught on a mountain's highest ground  
far from the Sea is a fresh fountain found;  
Whose waters, like the Seas set tides, each day  
Do twice flow up, and twice do ebb away.  
Not far from Wexford lies a piece of ground  
In Leinster Province, where no Rats are found.  
They breed not there, nor brought can live at all.  
If you'll trust Fame for the original  
And cause of this, a curse denounced there was  
By S. Yuorus Bishop of the place  
Against all Rats (whose books by chance they tore)  
And they from thence were banished evermore.   

A spacious quantity of Meadow ground  
In Connaught lies; where biting Fleas abound,  
And do so much the hapless place infest,  
It lies forsaken both by man and beast.  
The useless soil in vain is fruitful there.  
What less than miracle can this appear?  
And show to us, that if th' Almighty please,  
The least of all his Creatures can disseise  
Man of a dwelling. so when all that store  
Of his most wondrous judgements heretofore  
On sinful Egypt he was pleased to bring;  
Not all the forces of so great a King  
Against Lice, flies, frogs had power to guard the land;  
Nor their invasion could a●… all withstand.   

Some other meadow g●…ounds, quite contrary  
To these in nature do in Leinsterly.  
Where the rich soil in pasture so abounds,  
If grazing cattle cover all those grounds,  
They feel no want; what grass they eat by days  
The dewy night back to the land repays;  
And what famed Maro of that wealthy field  
In Mantua spoke, these meadows truly yield.   

But so miraculously temperate  
Proves Ireland's air sometimes, Wolves have of late  
In midst of bare December whelped been,  
And young-hatched Crows at Christmas have been seen.   

What need I speak of that famed Willow tree.  
At Glindelachan; which was known to be  
Changed from his nature (though it yet appear  
In outward form a Willow) and each year  
Brings forth fair Apples, that have proved of strange  
And medcinable virtue still? that change  
The common people, as divinely rare,  
Imputed to S. Keiwin's powerful prayer;  
Or to your sacred ear relate the story  
Of our S. Patrick's famous Purgatory?  
Nine dismal caves there are in one of those  
If any man by night himself repose,  
Such most unsufferable torments there  
(As humane nature scarce has power to bear)  
He shall endur●…. the silly folk suppose  
●…he pains of Hell not much exceeding those.  
But if that all the prodigies we know  
Of truth in Ireland, or all those that so  
Are by the common people thought to be,  
We should relate; your sacred Majesty  
Would first be wearied: day would first be done  
E'er through those wonders our discourse could run.   

With that the Bishop his relation ceased.  
Great Henry gave him thanks; and highly pleased  
To hear the nature of his new-gained land,  
Rewards those Irish with a bounteous hand  
That on his Royal Court did then attend,  
And that this action might to happy end  
Be brought, and Ireland settled in a blessed  
And sure estate; beginning at the best  
Of cares (God's service,) he to Dublin then  
A Synod calls of th' Irish Clergymen;  
With whom were many English Prelat●… joined;  
To sift the state of Ireland's Church, and find  
What errors had by time crept in, to be  
The blemishes of Christian purity.   

While thus great Henry labours to secure  
His new-gaind Realm, to leave it in a sure  
And peaceful state; from these his wished affair●…  
He is diverted by more tragic cares.  
Sad news to him, (though secretly) are brought  
Of what the fiend Impiety had wrought  
In his bold sons; their inclinations now  
And bad designs beyond concealment grow.  
Enough to break a tender father's heart.  
But of his sorrow this was but a part;  
(Although alas, he were enforced to see  
In this unnatural conspiracy  
His life and kingly state endangered were)  
For other tidings to increase his fear  
Came flying over (as mischiefs ever join,  
Not singly come) Albert and Theodine  
Were by Pope Alexander sent from Rome  
As Legates, and to Normandy were come,  
There to examine Becket's murder now,  
With power not only to inquire and know,  
But punish it, and interdict at once  
All great King Henry's large dominions,  
Unless that he himself in person there  
Upon their summons did forthwith appear.  
And now the feast of Easter was at hand,  
King Henry grieved that from his new gained land  
He was so soon enforced to part away,  
Before well settled; yet because delay  
On other side did seem so dangerous;  
Of those affairs he briefly does dispose;  
Makes Hugh de Lacie chief justitiar,  
And to the chiefest Captains each a share  
Of government he leaves. then crosses over,  
A●…d with a prosperous wind upon the shore  
Of Wales arrives; but making then no stay  
At all in England, sails with speed away  
To Normandy, to meet the Legates there.  
And does before them personally swear  
That he commanded not that horrid deed;  
But for those words that rashly did proceed  
Out of his mouth, and might be thought to be  
The moving cause of that black tragedy,  
He is contented to what penance fit  
The Pope or they enjoin him, to submit.    

THE REIGN OF King HENRY the Second.  
The fifth Book.  
The Argument of the fifth Book.  

Against their Father Henry's impious Sons  
Raise War through all his large dominions  
By foreign Princes backed. the old King's success  
On every side, and wondrous happiness.  
King Lewis of France is chasd from Normandy;  
And Chester's Earl surprised in Brettainy.  
At Farneham field the Earl of Leister's ta'en,  
And almost all his warlike Flemings slain▪  
The King of Scotland by a little band  
Is taken prisoner in Northumberland.  
To Becket's shrine old Henry pensive goes;  
Then freely pardons all his yielding foes.  
T●…kes in the Forts that were against him manned,  
And without bloodshed quiets all the land.  
The woeful news of murdered Rosamund  
Amidst these joys his bleeding heart doth wound.  
A truce 'twixt Lewis and him. young Richard gets  
Poictou; but when King Henry comes, submits,  
And by his father is sent forth to win  
His yet-offending brothers from their sin.   

NOw did those fatal and unnatural jars  
Disclose themselves, and more than civil wars  
Began to make afflicted England bleed;  
While Henry's foes from Henry's loins proceed.  
From Hell to Earth did that accursed fiend  
The Viper-haired Impiety ascend  
T' infect the Royal household; such was she  
As ancient Poets made Megaera be,  
That loved no wars, but 'twixt near kindred bred,  
No blood, but such as sons or brothers shed;  
Such wars whose trials must be ever bad,  
Whose conquests must be loss, and triumphs sad.  
'twixt Pelops sons 'twas she that bred despite,  
'twas she that made the Theban brothers fight,  
That made Atrides impiously be slain,  
And impiously to be revenged again.  
She now through France, through England sounds alarms,  
And Henry's sons against their father arms.  
Henry the son (too soon crowned King) on slight  
Pr●…tences of a wrong resolves to fight  
Against his dear Fa●…her. in that black design  
Richard and Geoffrey with their brother join  
(As then was thought) incensed by the spleen  
And jealousies of Elinor the Queen.  
With them the Earls of Chester, Leicester too;  
And Bigot Norfolk's Ea●…le, with many more  
‛ Domestic Rebels join. nor did so bad  
So impious a cause as theirs (oh sad  
Crime of the Fates) want foreign aiders too,  
For all the Christian Princes near, as though  
They understood not what Rebellion were,  
Nor treason knew, to th' unjust side, adhaere.  
King Lewis of France assists his son in Law,  
And to that party Scotland's King doth draw;  
That side does Philip Earl of Flanders take;  
So much old Henry's state now seemed to shake  
As nothing almost but th' immediate hand  
Of heaven alone had power to make him stand.   

Why do you Princes such Rebellion love?  
Such sad examples against yourselves approve,  
You that are Kings and Fathers? is it hate  
O●… envy borne to Henry's prosperous state  
That moves you ●…hus? alas, you do not show  
A skil●…ull hate to him in arming so.  
Your arming makes those wars that were before  
Wars civil only, to be so no more,  
But gives the grieved father hope to share  
A glorious triumph from a tragic war;  
For else the conquest which great Henry had  
o'er his own sons and subjects had been sad.  
The King of Scotland must a prisoner be,  
And Lewis with shame oft chased from Normandy,  
Lest noble Henry should triumph o'er none,  
But only sons and subjects of his own.   

And you most gracious Sovereign, borne to be  
Th'admired example of true piety  
To your deceased Father; with an eye  
Secure, may read your virtues contrary  
In Henry's sons. and read it, Sir; true story  
That brands their names, will sound your endless glory.  
King james, whilst living, did behold, and blessed  
Your piety; of what you since expressed  
No little part, the wondering people all  
Beheld, and honoured at his funeral;  
But most of all is, what we daily see,  
Your pious truth to his dear memory.  
So may our Princely Hope (let God above  
Be pleased) young Charles by your example prove,  
And such unto yourself hereafter be  
As you to blessed james in piety.   

The foes in this great combination tied  
Invade King Henry's lands on every side.  
While Scotland's King falls on Northumberland,  
While Chester's Earl, and Fulgiers armed stand  
To seize the towns of Britain; Lewis of France  
With young King Henry all their force advance  
For Normandy, attempting to surprise  
Vernoul, a town that in the confines lies.  
Thus like a Lion roused on every side,  
Old Henry's prudence must at once provide  
For all assaults; and first in person he  
To succour Vernoul marches speedily.  
Which Lewis of France by treachery that day  
Had ta'en; but left it strait, and fled away.  
The English King pursues, and in his course  
Surprises many forts of his by force.  
Nor durst the King of France, of all the time  
That war endured, in field encounter him,  
But making short incursions, as for prey,  
Would never stand the trial of a day.  
From thence with winged speed old Henry goes,  
To meet in Brettaine with his rebel foes;  
But Chester's Earl and ●…ulgiers durst not bide  
His puissance; but fled and fortified  
Themselves within the castle Dole; which he  
Str●…ightly besieged, and won it speedily.  
There Chester's Earl into his hands he got,  
With fourscore other prisoners of note.   

While thus in France the conquering King proceeds,  
Heavens potent hand assists their valiant deeds,  
That loyal wars for him in England made.  
The Northern parts does Scotland's King invade.  
To whose resistance, their most able men  
The noble Lucy, Lord chief justice then,  
And Bohun, Constable of England, bring,  
And stay the progress of that warlike King.  
There whilst with loyal and courageous hearts  
They guard the North, in England's Eastern parts  
Arise warr●…s fiercer; where with numerous bands  
Of warlike Fleming's furious Leicester lands.  
With him does Bigot Earl of Norfolk join.  
There their rebellious forces they combine  
To waste their native soil. the woeful fame  
Of which to brave Bohun, and Lucy came.  
Who hea●…ing this conclude with Scotland's King  
A speedy truce, and all their forces bring  
Into the Eastern parts; where fates provide  
Fresh strength to succour injured Henry's side.  
The loyal Earls of Gloster, Arundel,  
And Cornwall there are met, provided well  
Of all munition, in their just design  
With noble Lucy and Bohun to join.  
The Lords all met, to Farneham march away.  
There was the trial of that bloody day  
Ordained. there Leicester with his Flemish troops  
Comes to encounter them. with different hopes,  
Though equal fury, the two armies fought;  
The Flemings prey, the English freedom sought,  
To chase from thence the foreigners away.  
Long doubtful stood the trial of the day.  
When thus the lo●…all Lords their soldier's cheer;  
Now let your truth and loyalty appear  
Brave Englishmen; nor is it Henry's right  
Against rebels arms for which alone you fight,  
And to revenge your wronged Prince; (although  
That were engagement great and high enough)  
You fight lest England should be made a spoil  
To vagrant thiefs; or (more) your native soil  
Here suffer conquest by a foreign sword,  
And after ages in black leaves record  
The fatal field of Farneham. fortune meant  
In this to keep your valours innocent,  
Though rebel Leicester make a civil war,  
He frees you from it, since his soldiers are  
All foreigners; in fight you need not fear  
To wound at all your native country there,  
Nor shed your kindred's blood; the foe frees you  
From those foul crimes which he intends to do,  
(Fight against his Sovereign, friends, and native land.)  
What great advantage on our side doth stand!  
Our arms are loyal, against a foreign foe;  
His wars both civil, and rebellious too.  
Such speeches from the Lords had raised high  
The English virtue; they all wished to dye  
Rather than see, what else they sadly feared.  
On one side England's woeful state appeared.  
On other side the justice of so brave  
A cause, fresh vigour to their spirits gave.  
The Flemings armed with resolve as great,  
Whose desperate fortunes on that day were set,  
And no hope left beyond, came fiercely on,  
Breathing out nothing but destruction,  
To gain the price of their adventures there,  
Or to their foes to leave a conquest dear.  
So near the flocks fight hungry beasts of prey;  
So fight brave dogs to chase the wolves away  
As then the English and the Flemings fought.  
How many tragedies that day were wrought!  
How were the fields with slaughter covered over!  
How was th'adjoining river stained with gore!  
At last bright ●…ustice rose, and by the laws  
Of God and nature balancing the cause,  
Gave a full conquest to the English side.  
But so the desperate Fleming's fell and died,  
As in their deaths it plainly might appear  
With what resolves they had encountered there.  
Ten thousand of them in the field were slain;  
Their great Commander Leister's Earl was ta'en,  
With him his Amazonian Countess too  
Was taken prisoner, and many more.  
Who by the conquering Earls were speedily  
Sent out of England into Normandy,  
And to old Henry brought, where then he lay,  
With joyful news of that victorious day.   

One of the strongest props young Henry had▪  
And boldest supporter of a war so bad  
Is now removed, ambitious Leicester, he  
Who most had soothed the son's impiety,  
And against the father been most insolent,  
Is at his mercy now a prisoner sent.  
The King forbears revenge, and does disdain  
With any show of cruelty to stain  
The joy of this success; but keeps him there  
As war had made him, only prisoner.   

But England's wretched state by one success  
Could not be rescued wholly from distress,  
'Gainst which so great conspiracies did aim.  
For second news from thence to Henry cam●…  
By Richard then elect of Winch●…ster  
That other forces had arrived there  
By that rebellious Earl of Norfolk brought;  
By whom outrageous mischiefs had been wrought,  
And th' Eastern parts of England much annoyed;  
That stately Norwich was with fire destroyed,  
That greater woes are feared every day;  
That th' Earl of Flanders then at Gravelin lay  
With young King Henry, purposed to invade  
England with all the strength that they had made.  
The King is moved to hear his country's woe,  
And to her rescue strait resolves to go  
In person▪ then with his accustomed speed,  
By which he found his actions still succeed,  
(For all his acts and march●…s still did show  
Such speed, that Lewis of France would oft avow  
He thought King Henry did not go but fly)  
Prepares to cross the seas from N●…rmandy.  
And takes aboard, besi●…es his faithful men,  
Those Lords with him that were his prisoner's the●…  
Leicester, and Chester's Earls, with many more.  
But when he hoist his sails, cross winds 'gan blow,  
The Seas grow rough, as if the Seas conspired  
And winds to cross what he so much desired.  
King Henry sighs, and lifting his sad eyes  
To heaven, thus speaks; oh God, thou only wise,  
If my intents in E●…gland may succeed,  
If her afflicted state my pre●…ence need,  
And that my safe arrival there may be  
Her health, and cure of all her malady,  
Then grant me passage thou, whose only beck  
Has power the winds and swelling Seas to check:  
But if my presence to her coast may prove  
More cause of woes, and fiercer tumults move,  
If my revenging hand may lance the sore  
Too deep, and make it greater than before,  
Let these cross winds still keep me from that shore;  
Oh let me never see my England more.  
Rather than these my arms should only gain  
My right; and not the nations peace maintain,  
Let me lose all, and my unthankful son  
Before his time po●…sesse her as his own.  
Rather than seat a long and tragic war  
Within her bleeding bosom; fare oh far  
Let my sad state from thence be banished.  
Too much already has that Island bled  
For Prince's strifes and Soveraigneties dire love.  
Oh if my landing may auspicious prove  
For England's peace, and quench all factious fire,  
Let winds and Seas consent to my desire.  
His pious prayer was heard; the swelling Main  
Smoothed his rough face, the wind turned fair again▪  
And gave presage to his rejoicing mind  
Of what success he should in England find.  
By which his navy soon is wafted over,  
And at Southampton safely set on shore.  
Departing thence, before he seek his foes,  
Or realms sick parts, in Pensive wise he goes  
Himself to visit slaughtered Becket's shrine;  
(Whether the Lega●…es did before enjoin  
That penitence, or that 'twere voluntary.)  
At three miles' di●…ance off from Canterbury,  
The King himself alighting from his horse  
Does barefoot 
* Hoved●…n.  thither take his pensive course,  
Whilst pains with his humiliation meet,  
And ruthless stones do cut his tender feet,  
Leaving the people's wondering eyes, from thence  
A bloody track of his sharp penitence.  
But when he came to slaughtered Becket's shrine,  
Oh there (could worship greater than divine  
Have been) he had performed it; on his face  
He prostrate fell, and weeping kissed the place,  
Which yet of Becket's murder bore the stain.  
There with submissive praye●…s he strove to gain  
Pardon for that which others wrought, and he  
Was guilty of, but accidentally.  
But yet, as if no tears could expiate,  
Nor prayers could cleanse so foul a crime as that,  
(To such esteem in that blind age's thought  
Was this supposed Martyr Becket brought)  
The pensive King goes farther; bears his back,  
And on his flesh refuses not to take  
Rod-stripes from each blind Monk that there did live▪  
Which they as freely to their Sovereign give.  
A strange example sure! but let the sage  
Nor censure them, nor Henry, but the age.   

But ere great Henry from that city went,  
More glorious news (as if changed Fortune meant  
To recompense him for her threats so late,  
And now on all sides make him fortunate)  
Was thither brought to his rejoicing ear,  
That Scotland's King was taken prisoner  
The warlike 
* William Parvus.  William, who had made, almost  
Without resistance, on the Northern coast  
So many inroads, such rich spoils had won,  
And so much wrack in several places done.  
Huge was his army, but by different ways  
D●…spers'd they sought securely for their preys  
Ranging abroad, and pillaging without  
control, the towns, and hamlets round about.  

* Stoutvile, Glanvile, Vrsy, Ballioll, Vinfriville.  Five gallant Yorkshire Knights, whom glorious Fame  
Was pleased to grace, to Alnwicke Castle came;  
To enter thither secretly they meant.  
The misty weather favoured their intent;  
Unseen they came; although the strength were small  
(For but four hundred horse were they in all)  
Such prize to them did friendly fame ordain,  
As greatest armies have been proud to gain,  
A captive Monarch. from the Castle tower's  
They viewed far off the scattered Scottish powers.  
Whose army's greatest part from thence was gone,  
And led by several Captains, marched on  
To spoil some other parts. the Knights at last,  
Who in their active thoughts did hourly cast  
Some brave designs, by scouts, that had descried  
The scott's proceedings all, were certified  
Which way King William with small guards abroad  
Was gone; and thither with their troops they road,  
O'ertook, and charged him there; the King, although  
Amazed to meet so suddenly a foe,  
Did not forget he was a King, but made  
As brave resistance as the strength he had  
Would give him leave. the trumpets sound in vain  
To draw to rescue of their Sovereign  
His straggling troops; whom sweetness of the prey  
Had carried thence, and scattered every way.  
The Knights prevail; the King's surprised there,  
And to Newcastle borne a prisoner.  
(Oh mock of fortune!) he that entered late  
The English bounds so strong a Potentate,  
Guarded with 
* Will. Parv●….  fourscore thousand Soldiers,  
As if he sought to gain by 〈◊〉 wars  
The kingdom's conquest; not a meaner prey,  
By this small troop is captive borne away.   

Pleased with this news triumphant Henry goes  
From thence to London; where with all true shows  
Of joy and duty they received their King,  
And with an army marches thence to bring  
The realms sick parts unto their former state.  
No town, no fort, how proud so ere of late,  
And strongly manned, durst now resist or stay  
His course; fame opens him a bloodless way.  
Huntingdon Castle's yielded to his hands.  
Nor durst Earl Bigot with his Flemish bands,  
That lately struck such terror through the land,  
Resist his Lord; but into Henry's hand  
Did freely yield Bungay and Framingham  
His two strong forts, and humbly kneeling came  
To sue for mercy, which he there obtained.  
The like did Ferrer Darbies' Earl, and gained  
His pardon too, contented now to yield  
Those two strong Castles, which he long had held.  
As much stout Mowbray was enforced to do,  
And with himself resigned his Castle too.  
So did the forts then kept in Leister's name;  
And to Northampton Duresmes Prelate came  
To give three Castles freely to the King.  
Thither did then the Knights of Yorkshire bring  
Their royal captive Scotland's King; and there  
Presented him as Henry's prisoner.   

Who could have hoped to fin●…e such blessed success  
From such a war? what greater happiness  
Could o'erjoyed Henry in his largest thought  
Have wished to see, or all the stars have wrought?  
So high a conquest gained by fame alone?  
So many Castles without slaughter won?  
No blood in purging of rebellion shed?  
And in three weeks all England q●…ieted  
Without the sword? no fields with slaughter stained?  
What Prince o'er sons and subjects ever gained  
So just and true a triumph? or could see  
In civil war a joyful victory?  
This conquest was over hearts, not bodies wrought.  
And 'twas the hand of heaven, not Henry fought.   

But killing grief (as if unconstant fate  
Already 'ganne to envy Henry's state)  
Amidst these triumphs comes; and all the joy  
Of this success must one sad death destroy.  
How deep (alas) do Love's disasters wound!  
The woeful news of murdered Rosamund  
Was now to royal Henry brought. Oh what  
Pathetike tongue can at the height relate  
How much he grieved? a star-crossed lovers woo  
No living tongue can tell; they only know,  
Whom such a cause as that, has reaved of breath.  
If those sad Ghosts should from the shades of death  
Arise, not they themselves could speak that woe,  
Which no expression once but death could show.  
Yet may the Muse, since Muses are divine,  
Unfold those depths▪ thou saddest of the Nine,  
Inspire my thoughts, and lend thy skill to me,  
Oh tune thy heavyest notes, Melpomene,  
And to the world in fitting accents sound▪  
The tragic fate of fairest Rosamund.   

Whilst old King Henry was beyond the Seas  
Detained in war, to guard those Provinces,  
And scattered parts of his dominions  
Against Lewis of France, and his unnatural sons;  
Whilst England shaken was with loud alarms,  
And filled with foreign and rebellious arms;  
Pale Nemesis, that had possessed before  
The jealous breast of raging Elinor,  
In far mor●… horrid shapes was entered now,  
And all her wrongs in doubled forms did show;  
●…ongst which (the deepest piercing wrong) she found  
H●…r bed despised for love of Rosamund.  
Then mad she raves; 'tis not the subtlety  
Of that Daedalian Labyrinth (quoth she)  
Shall hide the strumpet from my vengeful hand;  
Nor can her doting champion Henry stand  
Against me now to guard his Paramour.  
If through the winding Mazes of her bower  
No art nor skill can pass: the World shall know  
A Queen's revenge; the house I'll overthrow,  
Level those justful buildings with the ground,  
And in their ruins tomb his Rosamund.  
There let him seek her mangled limbs. oh draw  
To my assistance just Rhamnusia;  
I do not strive a▪ rival to remove;  
'tis now too late to seek a husband's love:  
I seek revenge alone, and in what part  
I may most deeply wound false Henry's heart.  
The fairer, and the more beloved, that she  
Is now: the sweeter my revenge will be.  
Oh grant that Henry to his Rosamund  
May feel desire as great as ere was found  
In man; as great as beauty ere could move;  
To which add all the Matrimonial love  
He owes to me; that when his flame is such,  
The death of her may make his grief as much.  
In nothing now but Rosamund alone  
Can I afflict his heart; what could be done  
In all his other comforts, has been tried.  
I have already drawn his sons to side  
Against their father in unnatural jar  
And raised him up from his own loins a war.  
What could old Poets make Medea more  
Against false jason do, t●…en Elinor  
▪ 'Gainst him has done, when Rosamund is dead?  
Besides Creusaes' death, Medea shed  
Her children's blood before their father's eyes.  
But I, in stead of those mad tragedies  
(In which myself with him should bear a part)  
Can by his children more torment his heart.  
Their deaths, perchance, (though murdered) could not be  
So much his grief as their impiety.  
In which they now proceed; their father's crown  
Is by their arms into the hazard thrown.  
And to the full revenge I have begun  
Does nothing want but her destruction.   

At Oxford then, with this revengeful mind,  
The Queen abode, a fitting time to find  
For execution of her black intents,  
Whilst every day her cruel instruments  
Were lurking near to Woodstock, to descry  
A way to act this baleful tragedy.  
Fair Rosamund within her bower of late  
(While these sad storms had shaken Henry's state,  
And he from England last had absent been)  
Retired herself; nor had that star been seen  
To shine abroad, or with her lustre grace  
The woods, or walks adjoining to the place.   

About those places, while the times were free,  
Oft with a train of her attendants, she  
For pleasure walked; and, like the huntress Queen  
With her light Nymphs, was by the people seen.  
Thither the country Lads and Swains, that near  
To Woodstock dwelled, would come to gaze on her.  
Their jolly May-games there would they present,  
Their harmless sports, and rustic merriment  
To give this beauteous Paragon delight.  
Nor that officious service would she slight:  
But their rude pastimes gently entertain.  
When of●… some forward, and ambitious swain,  
That durst presume (unhappy Ladd) to look  
Too near that sparkling beauty, planet-struck  
Returned from thence, and his hard hap did wail.  
What now (alas) can Wake, or Fair avail  
His lovesick mind? no Whitsunale can please,  
No jingling Morris-dances give him ease;  
The Pipe and Tabor have no sound at all;  
Nor to the Maypole can his measures call,  
Although invited by the merryest Lasses.  
How little for those former joys he passes?  
But sits at home with folded arms; or goes  
To carve on Beeches-barkes his piercing woes,  
And too ambitious love. Cupid, they say,  
Had stolen from Venus then; and lurking lay  
About the fields and villages, that nigh  
To Woodstock were, as once in Arcady  
He did before, and taught the rural swains  
Loves oratory, and persuasive strains.  
But now fair Rosamund had from the sight  
Of all withdrawn▪ as in a cloud, her light  
Enveloped lay, and she immured close  
Within her Bower, since these sad stirs arose,  
For fear of cruel foes; relying on  
The strength and safeguard of the place alone:  
If any place of strength enough could be  
Against a Queen's enraged jealousy.   

Now came that fatal day, ordained to see  
Th' eclipse of beauty, and for ever be  
Accursed by woeful lovers. all alone  
Into her chamber Rosamund was gone;  
Where (as if fates into her soul had sent  
A secret notice of their dire intent)  
Afflicting thoughts possessed her as she sat.  
She sadly weighed her own unhappy state,  
Her feared dangers, and how far (alas)  
From her relief engaged Henry was.  
But most of all, while pearly drops distained  
Her rosy cheeks, she secretly complained,  
And wailed her honour's loss, wishing in vain  
She could recall her Virgin state again;  
When that unblemished form, so much admired,  
Was by a thousand noble youths desired,  
And might have moved a Monarch's lawful flame.  
Sometimes she thought how some more happy Dame  
By such a beauty, as was hers, had won  
From meanest birth, the honour of a Throne,  
And what to some could highest glories gain,  
To her had purchased nothing but a stain.  
There when she found her crime, she checked again  
That high aspiring thought, and gann complain  
How mu●…h (alas) the too too dazzling light  
Of Royal lustre had misled her sight;  
Oh than she wished her beauties ne'er had been  
Renowned: that she had ne'er at Court been seen:  
Nor too much pleased enamoured Henry's eye.  
While thus she sadly mused, a ruthful cry  
Had pierced her tender ear, and in the sound  
Was named (she thought) unhappy Rosamund.  
(●…he cry was uttered by her grieved Maid,  
From whom that clew was taken, that betrayed  
Her Lady's life,) and while she doubting feared,  
Too soon the fatal certainty appeared;  
For with her train the wrathful Queen was there.  
Oh who can tell what cold and kill fear  
Through every part of Rosamund was struck?  
The rosy tincture her sweet cheeks forsook,  
And like an Ivory statue did she show  
Of life and motion reft. had she been so  
Transformed in deed, how kind the fates had been  
How pitiful to her? nay to the Queen?  
To free her guilty hand from such a crime,  
So sad and foul, as no succeeding time  
But shall with grief condemn. yet had she been  
A Statue; and looked so: the jealous Queen  
Perchance on that her cruelty had shown,  
Lest Henry should have turned Pygmalion,  
And for a St●…tues love her bed forsook.  
The Queen's attendants with remorse are struck;  
Even she herself did seem to entertain  
Some ruth; but strait Revenge returned again,  
And filled her furious breast. Strumpet (quoth She)  
I need not speak at all; my sight may be  
Enough expression of my wrongs, and what  
The consequence must prove of such a hate.  
here, take this poisoned cup, (for in her hand  
A poisoned cup she had,) and do not stand  
To parley now: but drink it presently,  
Or else by tortures be resolved to dye.  
Thy doom is set. pale trembling Rosamund  
Receives the cup, and kneeling on the ground;  
When dull amazement somewhat had forsook  
Her breast, thus humbly to the Queen she spoke.  
I dare not hope you should so far relent  
Great Queen, as to forgive the punishment  
That to my foul offence is justly due.  
Nor will I vainly plead excuse, to show  
By what strong arts I was at first betrayed,  
Or tell how many subtle snares were laid  
To catch mine honour. these, though ne'er so true,  
Can bring no recompense at all to you,  
Nor just excuse to my abhorred crime.  
Instead of sudden death, I crave but time,  
Which shall be styled no time of life but death.  
In which I may with my condemned breath,  
While grief and p●…nnance make me hourly dye,  
Pour out my prayer●… for your p●…osperity.  
Or take revenge on this off●…ding face,  
That did procure your wrong, and my disgrace.  
Make poisonous leprosies o'erspread my skin;  
And punish that, that made your Henry sin.  
Better content will such a vengeance give  
To you; that he should loathe me whilst I live,  
Then that he should extend (if thus I die)  
His lasting pity to my memory,  
And you be forced to see, when I am dead,  
Those tears perchance, which he for me will shed,  
For though my worthless self deserve from him  
No tears in death: yet when he weighs my crime,  
Of which he knows how great a part was his,  
And what I suffer as a sacrifice  
For that offence; 'twill grieve his soul to be  
The cause of such a double tragedy.  
No more (replied the furious Queen) have done;  
Delay no longer, lest thy choice be gone,  
And that a sterner death for thee remain.  
No more did Rosamund entreat in vain;  
But forced to hard necessity to yield,  
Drunk of the fatal potion that she held.  
And with it entered the grim tyrant death.  
Yet gave such respite, that her dying breath  
Might beg forgiveness from the heavenly throne▪  
And pardon those, that her destruction  
Had doubly wrought. forgive, oh Lord, said she,  
Him that dishonoured, her that murdered me.  
Yet let me speak, for truth's sake, angry Queen;  
If you had spared my life, I might have been  
In time to come th' example of your glory;  
Not of your shame, as now. for when the story  
Of hapless Rosamund is read; the best  
And holiest people, as they will dete●…t  
My crime, and call it foul: they will abhor,  
And call unjust the rage of Elinor.  
And in this act of yours it will be thought  
Hang Henry's sorrow, not his love you sought.  
And now so far the venom's force assailed  
Her vital parts, that lif●… with language failed.  
That well built palace, where the Graces made  
Their chief abode, where thousand Cupids played,  
And couched their shafts; whose structure did delight  
Even nature's self, is now demolished quite,  
Near to be raised again. th' untimely stroke  
Of death, that precious Cabinet has broke,  
That Henry's pleased heart so long had held.  
With sudden mourning now the house is filled;  
Nor can the Queen's attendants, though they fear  
Her wrath, from weeping at that sight forbear.  
There well they could, while that fair hearse thy view,  
Believe the ancient emblem to be true;  
And think pale death and winged Cupid now  
Their quivers had mistook. untimely so  
By rough North blasts do blooming Roses fade▪  
So crushed falls the Lillies tender blade.  
Her hearse at Godstow Abbey they enterre.  
Where sad and lasting monuments of her  
For many years did to the world remain.  
Nought did the Queen by this dire slaughter gain▪  
But more her Lords displeasure aggravate;  
And now, when he returned in prosperous state,  
This act was cause, toge●…her with that crime  
Of raising his unnatural sons against him,  
That she so long in prison was detained,  
And, whilst he lived, her freedom never gained.   

But Henry's troubles find not yet an end,  
Whose cares beyond the English shores extend,  
As if one kingdom's burden could not be  
Enough for his great magnanimity.  
The yet-perplexed affairs of Normandy  
Invite his presence next; where fates decree  
Almost as easy peace shall be obtained  
As England late had by his presence gained.  
Now did King Lewis and young King Henry lie  
Beseiging faithful Roan in Normandy.  
To whose relief the brave old Henry goes;  
But first with care and prudence does dispose  
The settled state of England to his mind;  
And loath to leave at liberty behind  
So great a firebrand as his jealous Queen  
Fierce Elinor in this late war had been,  
Commits her person to close custody;  
Then musters all his martial company,  
And Caesar-like transporting all his ●…tore  
Of great and princely prisoners, crosses over,  
As if he went to triumph, not to fight.  
Nor proved it less indeed; for even the sight  
Alone of so renowned and feared a Chief  
As old King Henry, was fair Roanes relief.  
King Lewis of France no longer meant to stay,  
Nor on the trial of one doubtful day  
To set his fortunes; yet ashamed that he  
Should seem to fly before his enemy,  
And fearing that disgrace, encamped lay  
Himself a while; and first conveyed away  
From thence the sick and weakest of his men,  
And with the rest in order followed then.  
For uncontrolled had Henry entered Roan,  
Set open the gates, and beat the rampiers down,  
Levelled the trenches all, that stopped the way,  
And dared the French to trial of the day.   

But Lewis retir'de, and weighing in sad thought  
What small advantage his designs had wrought  
Or for himself, or those whom he intended  
To aid, now wished this bootless war were ended;  
And thoughts of peace he wholly entertained.  
And since he knew a peace might be obtained  
(As then it stood) with ease from England's King  
And love beside, in labouring to bring  
The sons in too; and that th' old King would seem  
For such a savour much obliged to him;  
A reverend Bishop he to Henry sent,  
Who signified the Christian King's intent  
To work that pious and Religious peace,  
That wars so sad and impious now might cease  
'twixt sons and Father; nature made the way,  
And joyful Henry named the meeting day;  
●…ho, though successful ever in that war,  
Was still a father, not a conqueror.  
Then to guysor's with joy he goes; to whom  
King Lewis of France, and young King Henry come.  
Where though no perfect un●…on could be wrought  
(For young Prince Richard was not thither brought,  
Who still was fiercely warring in Poictou)  
Yet something's done▪ and as a prologue now  
To that fair peace, which afterward ensued,  
A truce both Henry's, and King Lewis conclude.   

Fierce Richard, though King Henry's second son,  
Yet borne to sit on England's royal throne,  
Had all the time of these unnatural jars  
Against his father, made victorious wars  
Within Poictou; in which few towns remained,  
But that Prince Richard the whole land had gained.  
This is that Hero, who by deeds of fame  
Shall gain through all succeeding times the name  
Of Lions-heart; whose deeds as far shall sound  
●…s lies the farthest Verge of Christian ground;  
Who by deserved honours fetched from far  
Shall wash the stain of this rebellious war  
From off his sacred memory again;  
And conquests great against Saracens obtain.  
From him the dreadful Saladine shall fly.  
Philip of France his envious enemy  
Shall fear the force of his victorious hand,  
And rue it oft. he in his time shall stand  
Th' eclipse of other Christian Princes fame,  
And only terror of the Pagan name.   

After the true concluded at guysor's,  
Into Poictou with all his martial force  
The old King Henry marches against his son;  
At whose arrival every fort and town,  
Which Richard not by love, but force, had gained  
Strait yield themselves into his Father's hand;  
Whose Marches almost no resistance find.  
When young Prince Richard (with perplexed mind)  
Had heard his father's coming and success,  
He storms, and taxes of perfidiousness  
King Lewis of France, and young King Henry, that  
Had thus forsaken their confaederate;  
But yet resolves (too proudly) not to yield  
At all; but stand the trial of a field  
Against his father; and with impious hopes  
●…nto the field draws all his Martial Tropes.  
From whence Kings Henry's army was not far.  
And now too near approached the wicked war.  
Some pious Soldiers 'gann those mischief's fear  
Which they should act, as well as suffer, there.  
Richard's great heart began to yield to shame,  
And feel the reverence of a father's name.  
Sometimes his stubborn courage raised him high;  
Sometimes again relenting Piety  
Checked those proud thoughts; and in so bad a cause  
Told him how great a crime his valour was.  
Yet had not Piety alone the power  
To curb his spirit; his father every hour  
Increased in men, and justice, with a tide  
Of strength flowed in, to vindicate her side.   

Why stoodst thou out (Richard) so long a time?  
'tis now too late to free thyself from crime  
Though thou submit. the world may justly say  
It was not true repentance, but dismay.  
Thou couldst no longer cheer thy fainting troops;  
And not thy resolution, but thy hopes  
Forsake thee here. that act will termed be  
Despai●…e, which had before been piety,  
But thank the weakness of thy army now,  
That made thee see (though late) and disallow  
That horrid guilt, before that lives it cost,  
Or blood by thy impiety were lost.   

Struck with remorse, at last young Richard throws  
His late rebellious arms aside, and goes  
To his offended father, to present  
Himself a sad and humble penitent.  
There on his knees, for that unkind offence  
He pardon craves; no other eloquence  
But tears and sighs his grief had power to use.  
No other pleas were strong in his excuse.  
The royal father meets with tears of joy  
Those tears; and pardons him the noblest way;  
With kind embraces lifts him from the ground;  
And in his rich paternal love had found,  
Instead of chiding him for what was done,  
A way to praise him by comparison,  
That of the brothers he submitted first;  
As if the father had forgot that erst  
He equal to the rest astray had gone,  
Remembering Richard's penitence alone.  
So much King Henry's wondrous goodness wrough●…  
On Richard's noble nature, as it brought  
Fr●…sh tears from him; and though it pardoned, more  
Did seem to aggravate th' offence before.  
Yet such encouragement from thence he took,  
As thus, when tears would give him leave, he spoke;  
Sir, your preventing grace has ta'en from me  
So far the need of all apology  
As I should only speak my thankfulness,  
If any language could so much express.  
But that my duteous deeds shall better show▪  
And for the first true service I can do,  
Vouchsafe me leave, great Sir, to go and win  
My yet offending brothers from their sin.  
Let me be there employed; I shall prevail  
In that, when other advocates will fail,  
When foreign Princes for their own close ends  
Shall faintly speak, when false and factious friends  
In their misdeeds shall flatter them; shall I  
By true example check impiety;  
I, that have sinned happily in this  
To make them know how good our Father is.  
Which (most accursed) I had not grace to know,  
Till by offending I had found it so.  
More had he uttered; but King Henry there  
Cut off his speech, almost or ejoyed to hear  
That thing proposed, which was his chief intent;  
And then with fair and kind encouragement  
For that design dispatched his Son away,  
Himself resolved in Normandy to stay.  
And thankful Richard with a joy as high  
Goes to perform the pious Legacy.    

THE REIGN OF King HENRY the Second.  
The sixth Book.  
The Argument of the sixth Book.  

Betwixt Ambois and Tours, the Sons are brought  
To meet their Father. perfect peace is wrought;  
A Peace is made with France and Scotland too.  
From Normandy the two King Henry's go,  
Great signs of joy in England every where  
Are showed, to welcome their arrival there.  
The King his Realm of England doth divide▪  
Into six circuits; and for each provide▪  
judges Itinerant. what great resort  
Was seen at once in Henry's stately Court.  
His happiness, his power, and high renown,  
His daughters royal marriages are shown.  
Old Henry does refuse the proffered Crown  
Of Palestine to take. Henry the son  
Rebels again; and does repentant die.  
The third son Geoffrey's w●…full tragedy.   

NOw did victorious Henry's wish succeed.  
With such effectual diligence and speed  
Had young Prince Richard with his Brother's wrough●…,  
That both of them he to their father brought  
Betwixt Ambois and Tours. there first of all  
Are di●…ontents and jars unnatural  
By 〈◊〉 King Henry's prudence made to cease;  
There first is wro●…ght a full and final peace.  
The sonne●… a●…e taught to hate their impious crime,  
A●…d vow o●…edience for the future time.  
Nor does th●… father's wisdom think he does  
E●…ugh, if for the present ●…e compose  
This fatal strife; but careful to prevent  
The causes of all future discontent  
He lends a gentle ear, while they express  
In humble sort their former grievances;  
He grants their just demands, and does advance  
With liberal hand their yearly maintenance,  
Which had before been justly thought to be  
Too small for them. and that this enmity  
Might not alone be ended, but forgot  
On every side▪ the lands un●…ustly got,  
While this sad war remained, are every where  
Restored again, and every prisoner  
Without a ransom on both sides set free.  
And all their followers in that state to be  
As when the war began. with Henry there  
A peace King Lewis and th'earl of Flanders swear;  
And that the friendship may be firmly tied,  
Adela Lewis his daughter is affied  
To Princely Richard; to remain, till she  
Should come of age, in Henry's custody.  
There to conclude these sad dissensions,  
Richard and Geoff●…y, Henry's younger sons  
A personal homage to their father do;  
Which young King Henry freely offered too;  
But that the father suff●…ed not; since he  
Invested was in regal dignity.   

White-winged Concord come from heaven above  
(Concord, of all estates the joy and love,  
Whose sacred arms the spacious world enfold,  
And that mixed fabric from dissolving hold)  
On Henry's countries now was pleased to light.  
With her, her lately banished sister, bright  
As she, fair Piety, did not disdain,  
Descending down, to visit earth again.  
She that from England's Court had lately fled,  
As once from Argos tragic towers she did,  
When Atreus' feast did her pure soul affright,  
And made the Sun obscure his mourning light.  
Nor does the presence of bright Phoebus more  
Comfort earth's drooping face, when to restore  
Her fragrant Wardrobe, he returns in spring,  
Then Pi●…ty, and blessed Concord bring  
True joy to humane hearts. the King in thought  
Is recompensed for what the fates had wrought  
So lately against him. his two younger sons  
He sends away to their dominions,  
And wise men with them; Geoffrey to remain  
In Brettaine, Richard in his Aquitaine,  
There, with their several Counsels, to advise  
The best for their estates and dignities.   

The two King Henry's, father and the son  
Through every part of their dominion  
Upon that side the Sea, a progress take,  
To cure the wounds of that late war, and make  
The rends all whole again; then from that coast  
The Seas for England they together crossed.  
But oh what Muse can at the height relate  
The joy that England's long-afflicted state  
Expressed to welcome their arrival there?  
Or show how all the ways from Porchmouth, where  
They landed first, and thence to London road,  
Were filled with people numberless, and strowed  
With such green dress, as then the spring could show,  
And Sol from Taurus' gilded horns bestow  
Upon the cheered earth, as if that then  
The season had consented with the men.  
How did the air with acclamations sound!  
When in that joyous sight the people found  
Their happiness; they saw two Kings as one,  
Distracting not the quiet of a throne,  
And, as a glorious wonder, might descry  
Two Suns at once, and yet a peaceful sky.  
This sight more joyed the hearts of people now,  
Then any triumph of a war could do.  
Nor could the greatest conquest, by the blood  
Of slaughtered nations purchased, be so good.  
So did th'Italian youths follow in throngs  
Their laurelled chariots with triumphant songs,  
When captive Kings were brought, when woeful stories  
Of ruined lands were made their envied glories.  
Before this triumph no sad captives go  
To wail in chains their woeful overthrow;  
No pale dejected looks, no hearts afraid  
Are found, no envied glories are displayed;  
But gentle peace does with a gracious eye  
Appear, and lead the fair solemnity.  
Whose crown of olive does more glorious show  
Then any victor's laurel wreath could do.   

One Court, one table now receives again  
Whom late this spacious Isle could not contain  
(As f●…iends) within blue Neptune's watery arms;  
And they whose presence filled with wars alarms  
So oft of late great France and England too,  
Without wars fear are seen together now;  
And promise, like th' Oebalian friendly stars,  
Health to the late distressed Mariners.  
Nor does King Henry spend in wanton ease  
The Halcyon days of this his happy peace:  
But like a wise and noble Potentate,  
●…o cure the sad diseases of his state,  
He first begins (as first it ought to be)  
With holy Church. the sin of Simony,  
Which those corrupted times too much had filled,  
A Synod to that end at London held  
By wholesome laws and canons did restrain.  
From thence old Henry fully to maintain  
His honour, goes in person, and repairs  
Some breaches of the late unhappy wars;  
And many Castles of the inner land,  
Which had in those rebellious times been manned,  
And kept against himself, he races down,  
As Leicester, Walton, Groby, Huntingdon.  
To deeds of justice than he turned his mind,  
And first of all the English Kings did find  
That happy course, applauded till this day,  
To give his subjects by an easier way  
The use of justice. England he divides  
Into six circuits; and for each provides  
Three reverend justices itinerant;  
That all his subjects farthest off, whom want  
Would not per●…it so great a way to come,  
Might meet bright justice twice a year at home;  
And that offences there where they were done,  
Might be to judges made more clearly known.  
A glorious act, which shall for ever fame  
To after times the second Henry's name.  
Those mighty kings who by such specious deeds  
As founding towers or stately Pyramids  
Would raise their names, and by that vast expense  
Do seek the fame of high magnificence,  
Do not deserve, by those proud works they raise,  
So true an honour, nor such lasting praise  
As he, whose wis●…dome to good manners dr●…wes  
The minds of men by founding wholesome laws,  
And planting perfect justice in a state.  
Those let the vainer people wonder at;  
By those a state shows fair; by this it lives:  
They outward beauty; this true essence gives.   

But now, my fair Calliope, relate  
How high, how glorious was old Henry's state  
In this so happy and established peace!  
When all dissensions on such terms did cease  
As he himself could wish! when his command  
Was feared in Wales: when England's happy land  
Was well assured: Scotland's strength dismayed:  
And conquered Ireland quietly obeyed  
His powerful sceptre; when he did possess  
Without control those stately Provinces  
Of France, which stretched even to the bounds of Spain,  
From Normandy to farthest Aquitaine.  
That King of Connaught, Roderike the stout,  
He that in Ireland had so long stood out  
Against th'English power, does now to England send  
Ambassadors on Henry to attend,  
To yield himself to his protection  
A tributary to the English Crown.  
And now through Europe the loud voice of fame  
So wide had spread this potent Monarch's name,  
That from the farthest part●… of Christendom  
Ambassadors of greatest Princes come,  
To hold their leagues and amity with him;  
And London saw (so high was his esteem)  
In his great Court at once th'ambasssadors  
Of the two mighty Christian Emperors  
The East and Western Caesar's both; in whom  
The ancient honour of Imperial Rome  
Divided lives; the Duke of Saxony,  
The Earl of Flanders, King of Sicily;  
From all these Legates at one time resort,  
Together seen in Henry's stately Court.   

Nor do the Princes weigh his power alone,  
But wisdom too, and (as to Solomon)  
Send far to crave his counsel and advise;  
As two great Kings, when difference did aris●…  
About the bounds of their dominion,  
Alphonso then King of Castille was one,  
T'other his uncle Sanctio of Navarre;  
Who loath that the ungentle hand of war  
Should judge the cause, to prudent Henry send,  
With power for him to hear and ●…ake an end;  
Which ●…e determines in so brave a way,  
That both the Kings are pleased, and both obey.  
And young Alphonso sends, after the strife  
Had end, to crave of Henry for his wife  
(With full assurance of an ample dour)  
His second daughter lovely Elianour.  
Who was according to that King's demand,  
Sent with a rich attendance to his land,  
And there received with joy, and highest state;  
Where they their wished Nuptials celebrate.   

His eldest daughter Maude before had he  
Bestowed on Henry Duke of Saxony  
Surnamed the Lion, from whose happy womb  
The fates ordain great Emperors shall come.   

And in this happy year did Henry too  
His third and youngest daughter joan bestow  
On noble William King of Sicily;  
Attended hence with fit solemnity.   

Nor did it seem enough to favouring fate  
That Henry's glorious and majestic state  
Through Europe only should be honoured;  
Even to the farthest bounds of Asia spread  
The fame of his great power and happiness.  
The holy land was brought to sad distress  
By strength of faithless Saracens oppressed.  
Great Saladine the terror of the East,  
That powerful Soldan that possessed the throne  
And diadem of stately Babylon,  
With all that th'old Assyrian Monarches held,  
Whose unresisted puissance had quell d  
The strength of all those parts, and into thrall  
Had brought the other Pagan Princes all,  
Entitled King of Kings and Lord of Lords,  
Against the Christians turned his conquering swords,  
And now had entered with that p●…oud design,  
Upon the bounds of fearful Pa●…aestine;  
His dreadful host had passed fair jordanes flood,  
Sacked towns adjoining, and in Christian blood  
Pursued the conquest ●…n; great fear of him  
Possessed the Princes of ●…erusalem,  
Who all consult about their present state.  
Their king old Baldwin was deceased of la●…e,  
And to his nephew, than a child (no more  
Than five years old) had left the regal power▪  
Too weak his tender age is thought to bear  
That weight, when such a threatening war so near  
Their walls is brought: the Princes all consent  
To offer up their crown and government  
To some redoubted Christian Monarch's ●…and,  
Whose power might guard their now-endangered land;  
And with one voice agree in He●…ry's name.  
To him, as to the Prince of greatest fame,  
And best to them for wealth and prowess known,  
They mean to tender Salems' royal Crown.  
And for Ambassador to him they choose  
The Reverend Patriarch Heraclius,  
Who bears along with him (to be a sign  
That by the general vote of Palaestin●…  
This royal tender was to Henry made)  
Things of the greatest note that kingdom had;  
The keys of that so much renowned place,  
Which our dear Saviour's happy birth did grace:  
And of that honoured tomb, which did contain  
His blessed body, till it rose again;  
The keys of David's stately Tower: with them  
The royal standard of jerusalem.  
Thus Fates for absent Henry did ordain  
Their highest graces; but (alas) in vain,  
As afterward it proved, when to the King  
Those honoured signs the Patriarch did bring.  
For he too much perplexed about his own  
Affairs at home, refused that sacred Crown:  
Although the Patriarch did strive to show  
That title was by right of birth his due,  
A●…d 〈◊〉 t●…e law●…ull heir of Salems' Throne,  
A●… being Geoffrey, Earl of A●…iou's son,  
Whose brother, F●…lke Plantagen●…t, had been  
Before 〈◊〉 King of Palestine.  
And ●…hough Pope Lucius had for that intent  
Persuasive ●…etters to great Henry sent,  
He still refu●…'d. God, for the Christians sin,  
Was not at tha●… time pleased to incline  
His 〈◊〉 to succour their afflicted state,  
Nor any o●…her Christian Potentate,  
Till (a●…l ●…oo late) sad news was brought to them  
That Saladine had ta'en jerusalem.   

But long great Henry in that blissful state  
Could not abid●…; the course of en●…ious fate  
Soon wrought a change with him. Before the Sun  
Had twice thr●…ugh his celestial Zodiac ●…unne,  
Deep●… alterations in some minds appeared,  
And dangers thence the people justly ●…ear'd.  
That happy Genius, ●…hich of late did guide  
Th' affairs of England, now in grief began hide  
His glorious head, lamenting to be gone;  
The dat●… of Henry's prosperous days was done;  
●…nd nought but troubles from that time ensu'de,  
A●…d tragic woes. Oh sad vicissitu●…e  
Of earthly things! to what untimely end  
Are all the fading glories that attend  
Upon the State of greatest Monarches, brought!  
What safety can by policy be wrought?  
Or rest be found on Fortune's rest●…esse wheel?  
Tost humane states are here enforced to feel  
Her kingdom such, as floating vessels find  
The stormy Ocean, when each boisterous wind  
Let loose from Ae●…l's Adamantine cav●…s,  
Rush forth, and roll into impetuous waves  
The Seas whole waters; when sometimes on high  
The raised Bark doth seem to kiss the Sky:  
Sometimes from that great height descending down,  
Doth seem to fall as low as Acheron.  
Such is the fra●… condition of man's state;  
Such contrarieties the turning fate  
Of Henry found; to him d●…d Fortune seem  
In all her favours and her frowns 〈◊〉.   

The former re●…ts, which dire Impiety  
Ha●… made in Henry's roy●…ll family,  
Had well b●…ene cured again, an●… closed all  
Without effects so sad and tragical,  
As all the Land from thence did justly fear●….  
On easie●… terms was peace established there  
Then men could hope, and gentler salves did serve,  
Then wounds so festered seemed to deserve.  
So ●…hen the gracious God was pleased) but see  
How ●…ull of danger all relapses be.  
In humane states how s●…ldome permanent  
Is perfect health! deserved punishment,  
Which heaven is pleased to respite for a time,  
It oft pays home upon a second crime.  
Henry the son in ●…eart revolts again  
From his indulgent father. Signs too plain  
His honest servants saw, and sighed to see.  
His aims on every opportunity  
●… spi●…it so young and ●…ot could not conceal.  
And now it seemed no human skill could heal  
●…h ' inveterate sickness of his impious mind.  
God, for old Henry's sins, did justly find  
M●…anes, by his sons, the father to chastise,  
And yet to punish their impieties.  
So double woe is to the father sent,  
Who feels their crimes, and then their punishment.   

Richard, the second son, that held 〈◊〉,  
And Aquitaine, for them, refused to do  
To young King H●…nry p●…rsonall Homage, though  
Their fa●…her Henry had commanded so.  
Yet Richard soon 〈◊〉, and tend●…rs it;  
Bu●… his imperious brother with despite  
〈◊〉 then to take it from his hands.  
A strong desire to seize on R●…chards lands  
Young Henry had. Full well he knew that all  
The Barons of those Provinces would fall  
Gladly from Richard's sterner government,  
Who had before declared their intent.  
With him in this his brother Geoffrey joined,  
Who to his father bore as false a mind.  
With Richard's lands they mean themselves to make  
Strong against their Father; and intend to take  
Thence the first step to their dis●…oyalty.  
Riihard in wrath departs from Normandy,  
Returning home to fortify and man  
His holds within Poictou and Aquitaine,  
And by his brothers is pursued. He finds  
A great estrangement in the Baron's minds;  
And is enfor●…'d, by their revolt dismayed,  
To crave his father old King Henry's aid.  
Who with an army thither strait repairs,  
Yet not to make, but to compound the wars.  
There young King Henry labours to maintain  
The Barons of Poictou and Aquitaine  
Against Richar●…s great complaints, and underhand  
For his own ends, persuades them to withstand  
His father's force, and not at all submit.  
Old Henry labours by persuasions fit  
To pacifi●… these new▪ bread enmities,  
And venturing of himself to p●…rleys, twice  
Miraculously scaped foul tre●…sons hand.  
Once a true servant, that did next him stand,  
Instead of him, was with an arrow slain,  
Nor was the traitor found; and when again  
He made approach▪ a barbed shaft, that from  
Th' adjoining Castle did with fury come,  
Had pierced his royal breast, had not his horse  
Advanced his head, and ●…ne the arrow's force,  
By which himself, to save his master, died.  
By these abhorred treasons terrified,  
The King no more would venture, but prepares  
To curb the Barons, and his Sons by wars.  
But that a juster stronger hand must do;  
Th' ●…ternall judge of all the world had so  
D●…creed, that 〈◊〉 sword should spared be  
In punishing his son's impiety.  
That he himself, whose just and certain hand  
No creature can prevent, no force withstand,  
Whose sacred will the Elements obey,  
And all the Stars do serve, would take a way  
Without old Henry's aid, or crime at all,  
Without a war so much unnatural,  
To punish guilt, that justice should be done,  
Yet the old King but lose, not kill a son.   

Now young King Henry at Martell prepares  
To meet his father in rebellious wars;  
By by a Dysentery de●…th assails  
His youth, and spite of youth or strength prevails.  
The sharp malignant humour did corrode  
His guts; and thence, while there the pain abode,  
A speeding feav●…r seized his vital part.  
Oppressed Nature past the help o●… art,  
Beyond all hope o●… cure, lay languishing.  
When Penitence from heavens eternal King  
To save this dying Prince his so●…e, is sent,  
And sweeten so his body's punishment.  
Now late alas (though not too late) did he  
Feel, and bewail his first impiety.  
And to his father humbly sent, to crave  
His pardon now; which he as freely gave,  
Yet durst not trust himself in person there,  
(The late foul treasons justly made him fear●…)  
But to declare a true forgiveness, sent  
His Ring to him. Which when the penitent  
And dying Prince received, ●…e humbly kissed,  
While floods of tears his contrite heart expressed.  
Then he conju●…'d hi●… servants, that did ●…tand  
About him, to fulfil●… his last command;  
Which they in all per●…ormed as they swore.  
A bed of ashes on the Chamber ●…loore  
They strewed, and thither pensive sackcloth brought▪  
Then from his royal Couch, so richly wrought  
With various work, with gold embroidered o●…e,  
They took him down▪ the kingly robes he wore  
They stripped him of, and put the sackcloth on,  
Then on the bed of ashes laid him down.  
This (quoth the dying king) this is the way  
To heavens bright palace; and this sad array  
Is fa●…re more glorious in th' Almighty's eye  
Then purple, silks, or rich embroidery,  
And sooner enters heaven; though that be high,  
No step's so near it as humility.  
'Tis not frail mortals gorgeous dress, that there  
Can rich at all, or beautiful appear,  
Since 'twixt the Glories of earth's greatest throne,  
And bliss of Saints is no comparison.  
Wail not my early death; no 〈◊〉 is re●…t  
Too soon of breath, to whom a time is left  
Of penitence. I had untimely died,  
Had these late wars in my rebellious pride  
Cut off my youth, and left my name to be  
The cursed example of impiety.  
And thou, my wronged father, in this low  
And humble state vouchsafe again to know  
(What impious I had once forgot) thy son,  
No more thy rival in the regal throne.  
Which whilst I sought, I laboured to destroy  
The Royal root, from wh●…nce I grew so high.  
I crave no interest in thy fortunes now,  
But onel●… that that Nature can bestow,  
The blessing of a child. Seeking thy throne  
I grew unworthy to be called thy son.  
Forbear, you lasting Registers of time,  
To name my title, lest you speak my crime.  
Or if the truth of story must do so,  
Be just, and publish my repentance too.  
How ere, when England's Kings are named, let me  
From that high Catalogue excluded be.  
And witness you, my friends, when I am gone,  
I died no King, but Henry's pensive son.  
With that the Fever his strong heart assails,  
And against resisting Nature's force prevails.  
From his young breast the struggling spirit flies,  
And night eternal closes up his eyes.   

Soon was the news to old King Henry brought;  
When different sorrow powerful Nature wrought  
In his great soul. Sometimes he wails a son  
In flower of all his youth untimely gone:  
Sometimes he joys to hear that penitence,  
That washed away the stain of his offence.  
Yet thence again ●…low tears, as cause to prove  
His sorrow good, and iu●…tifie his love.  
So Henry wept, in all respects but one,  
As holy David did for Absal●…n.  
They both lost sons; both wailed their son's offence:  
Yet David heard no signs of penitence  
In his slain Absalon▪ that could ●…t all  
Give comfort to his grief spiritual.  
Had Absalon●…or ●…or his abhorred offence  
Left marks behind him of true penitence  
Instead of that great pillars pride, which he  
Had raised before to keep his memory,  
far less (no doubt) in that respect alone,  
Had David mourned for h●…s slaughtered son.   

The grief that Henry took, though wondrous great,  
Yet could not make him his just wrath forget  
Against the Barons of Poictou, from whom  
The cause of these rebellions first did come.  
He draws his martial forces up, to press  
With narrow siege the Town of Li●…oges.  
Which soon was rendered to his powerful hand,  
And with that Town and Castle, all the Land;  
The Barons pardon crave; wi●…h them his son  
P●…ince Geoffrey comes; ●…pon submission  
The King forgives his son, and is content  
To take of them an easy punishment.  
But though a father's dear affection  
Twice freely pardoned this offending son:  
Soon after did the hand of God on high  
Pursue with vengeance the impiety  
Of young Princ●… Geoffr●…y. At a Turneament  
In Paris held, to which this Geoffrey went  
With other Lords in youthful bravery,  
To prove his active strength and chevalry,  
He fell together with his horse; the blow  
So sorely bruised his body, that although  
He presently expired not in the place,  
(For God in mercy lent him such a space  
Of time to breath, he might repenting call  
To him for Grace) y●…t of that ●…a tall fall  
(As it appeared plain) in all the pride  
Of his fresh youth, he shortly after died.    

Lib. 7. HENRY the Second.  
The Argument of the seventh Book.  

Prince John King Henry's youngest son is sent  
To take the charge of Ireland's government.  
'Twixt Henry and King Philip several jars  
And quarrels rise, that threaten daily wars.  
A reverend Prelate by the Pope employed  
Betwixt the Kings all difference to decide,  
Persuades them both an holy war to make.  
Both Kings, with Philip Earl of Flanders, take  
The Cross upon them. But their good intents  
Are crossed again by fatal accidents;  
And both the Kings against each other bend  
Towarre again. Richard in discontent  
His father leaves, and takes King Philip's part.  
Ensuing losses break old Henry's heart.   

THus is the King of half his store bereft;  
Two sons untim●…ly dead; two sons are le●…  
The seeming comforts of his age; as who  
Could think but living children should be so?  
Oh who would not suppofe that to have seen  
Two youthful sons before him dead, had been  
A grievous c●…rse and punishment to him?  
But he, that sees old Henry's end, will deem  
His living sons to be his curse, and say  
God pitied him in taking two away.  
For furious Ri●…hard, who was eldest now,  
And heir apparent to the Crown (as though  
His brother's deaths could no examples be  
To show the vengeance of Impiety)  
Soon after against his father raises war  
Of worse and sadder consequence by far  
Then all the rest had been; they caused his smart:  
But this of Richard breaks his bleeding heart.   

The Realm of Ireland Henry did intend  
To john his youngest son; and to that end  
Had from Pope Vrban got a grant before  
That he might freely leave, as successor,  
Which son he pleased in Ireland's government.  
Thither is john with ●…it attendance sent  
(But twelve years old) to make him early known,  
And loved among those people, as his own.  
To rule among them as their Governor;  
But not invested in the Regal power.  
Th' example of his eldest son, whom he  
Before advanced to royal dignity  
Too soon (alas,) had made him justly fear  
The same from others. But unhappy there  
This Prince his too too early rule did prove.  
Instead of gaining that rude Nations love;  
Which by a sweet demeanour had been won,  
(For they, as every barbarous Nation,  
Although they know not what is true respect:  
Yet, if respected, wondrously affect.)  
The youthful Gallants of that Prince his Court  
Could not re●…raine, burr in a scorne●…ull sort  
The Natives rude behaviours did deride▪  
And so distasteful was their mocking pride  
To those plain people; they began to hate  
Whom else they would have honoured, and forgot  
That loyal love and reverence, which before  
They to the English King and Nation bore.  
From thence sad wars the Irish Princes moved;  
Which by the loss of men and treasure, proved  
Unhappy to the English side; till from  
His government young john was called home,  
And left it, after an expensive war,  
In worse estate than when he entered far.   

Now daily quarrels 'twixt the Realms of France.  
And England grow. Fresh cause of variance  
From all occasions does the active mind  
Of young King Philip against old Henry find.  
Sometimes he c●…aimes guysor's, and other lands  
By Henry held from him; somet●…mes demands  
The Princess Adela, his sister (now  
Of perfect age) to be delivered to  
Her husband Richard, Henry's eldest son,  
According to the old conclusion,  
Which in her father Lewis his time was made;  
Or else he is resolved to invade  
King Henry's Provinces, while he delays  
His answer; forces on both sides they raise;  
While neighbour-Princes kindly interpose,  
And strive these breaches 'twixt the Kings to close,  
Nor perfect peace, nor constant war ensned;  
Their truces often broke, were oft renewed:  
The sword oft drawn, and oft was sheathed again.  
While this so jarring concord did remain,  
Betwixt the Kings; sad news was brought to them  
That Saladine had ta'en jerusalem,  
Discomfited the Noble Christian host;  
And with their slaughter ●…ad through all that coast  
Seized the towns of strength into his hands.  
These woeful tidings through all Christian lands  
In Europe flew; excitements every where  
From Pulpits sounded in the people's ear,  
To aid their brother-Christians in the East,  
And take revenge on Pagans that oppressed  
The holy land. For this great purpose some  
Religious Prelates sent through Christendom●…  
To several Courts of greatest Princes came,  
To draw their succours. One of greatest name 
* William, Archbishop of Try.   
In that employment; who most seemed t'advance  
The cause, that Prelate was, who then in France  
Laboured to draw these armed Kings from thence.  
And turn their swords against the Saracens.   

Betwixt guysor's and Try, a day was set  
For interview; where these two Monarches met▪  
Their royal armies slayed not far from thence.  
No p●…ace was wrought upon the conference  
(Though thither Philip Earl of Flanders came,  
A powerful Prince, and one of honoured name,  
With Noble purpose to atone their jars,  
And to prevent so sad and causeless wars)  
Till this grave Prelate to the place was come,  
And for the general cause of Christendom  
Thus humbly spoke; Most puissant Kings, and you  
Renowned Earl, let it in season now  
Be thought to speak, what borne upon the wings  
Of Fame, already through all Europe rings,  
The tragic slaughter of our Christian host,  
And sacred Salem to vile Pagans lost,  
Since by those Christians sufferings, God for you  
Sets open the way to highest honours now.  
Let that brave cause engage these arms of yours.  
Thither, great Kings, transport your conquering powers,  
And for the name of your Redeemer, move  
A war●…e more just than any peace can prove;  
(Much more) a juster war than this can be.  
For when the foes of Christianity  
Do rage; if peace itself, at such a time,  
May in the Christian world be judged a crime,  
What crime is that, when they to war can go,  
Yet not against him that ought to be their foe?  
But for him rather? (Let me freely speak)  
When Christian Princes against each other wreak  
Their wrath at sucst a time; what side so ere  
Be beat, the holy cause must suffer there;  
And every death, when your fierce battles join,  
A Champion takes from bleeding Palestine.  
God (sure) decreed I should prevail with you,  
Because he lets me find you armed now,  
When I am come to speak. Your breasts are not  
Becalmed with peace; your active spirits are hot;  
And what should hinder you from Salems' war,  
Since you have met a juster cause by far  
Then that that moved this heat, that raised these arms  
I do not seek to still these loud alarms,  
But to direct them to an object right,  
Where godly zeal, not sinful wrath shall fight;  
That shall renown you in all times to come,  
And crown your dying men with martyrdom.  
Do you for honour fight? (as who would make  
A war at all if not for honour's sake?)  
Behold where truest honour may be gained;  
When by your arms his cause shall be maintained,  
Who is the fountain of it; he that gave  
To you those royal glories that you have,  
And claims some requital by your service showed.  
What fame so great as that of gratitude?  
Even Fame itself, which in some wars is made  
The highest prize, for which great Kings invade  
Each others lands, in this more glorious war  
Is a small part of the reward; for far  
More happy recompense ordained is  
For this religious deed, eternal bliss.  
Go, vindicate that (once most happy) land  
So graced by heaven, and with victorious hand  
Redeem those sacred monuments, that lie  
Detained by Pagans in obscurity,  
Which to the faithful world would more be known;  
And Christian Poets shall hereafter crown  
In deathless songs, together with the fames  
Of that loved Country, your victorious names▪  
If Homer's Poem could so far renown  
That ●…oy, the long-besieged Phrygian Town:  
If he could give her very ruins fame,  
And lend each field, each stone a pleasing name:  
What in this sacred subject may be done?  
A theme, disdaining all comparison?  
In which for wit they shall not need to toil,  
The plenteous matter will so 〈◊〉 their style.  
Instead of Ida's hill, and famed grove,  
Which their fictitious gods (they say) did love,  
And oft descended down from heaven to grace:  
Their theme shall be each truly honoured place,  
Which glorious Angels oft have hallowed,  
Where our blessed Lord himself vouchsafed to tread.  
Instead of ●…riam's Palace, or the Cave  
Where Pa●…is once his fatal judgement gave;  
Instead of young Anchises b●…idall wood,  
Or that famed rock, where fair Hesion stood:  
Shall they discourse of David's Tower, the Cave  
Which once unto that holy Baptist gave  
Abode on earth; or where Elias stood  
When lifted up; and make ●…aire Iordans flood,  
And Kedrons' torrent, in true fame surpass  
What Simois, or silver Xanthus was.  
But whither has my zeal transported me?  
Or what is this so like an ecstasy?  
Let me return again. Great Kings I see  
Your Noble thoughts already working be  
In ●…his brave cause. I will presume to add  
No more ●…ut this; now let your goodness glad  
All Christian hearts; in friendship's bands combine;  
And think you have no foe but Saladine.  
With that he ceased; the Princes all are moved;  
And in their looks already had approved  
The Bishop's speech; when Henry thus began  
T' express his thoughts; Let it become the man  
Of greatest age, to show he does forsake  
The world's vain pomp and honour first, to take  
This holy Cross, and fight for Palestine.  
We think it no dishonour to begin  
To seek a peace at Philip's hand; nor can  
We fear, for such a cause, that any man  
Will think distrust in these our wars at home,  
And not the love we bear to Christendom,  
Engages us; since we resolve to go,  
And by that soldier's pilgrimage to sh●…w  
No rest from arms is sought, when we so ●…arre  
In person march, to meet a noble war.  
On that shall Henry's thoughts be wholly set.  
And if King Philip's resolutions meet  
With mine in this, and yours brave Earl, to stand  
Another Champion for the holy Land;  
Then, Princes, join your armed hands with mine,  
And let our peace bring war to Saladine.  
They both agree to what old Henry spoke;  
With that they kindly all embrace, and take  
The holy cross before the Bishop there.  
And that a ●…ifference plainly might appear  
Among their crossed soldiers; they agree  
Those cr●…sses shall in several colours be  
Worn by the Na●…ions; th' English shall be seen  
In white: in red the French: the Flemmi●…gs green.   

And now at home to ●…ettle all affairs,  
To their own Realms from thence each Prince repairs,  
To levy money, and prov●…sions make  
For that great voyage they intend to take.  
For when they took the Cross, it was ag●…eed  
Betwixt the Kings, and by the Pope d●…creed  
That all, as well the C●…ergy a●… the Lay,  
Within each Land should be enforced to pay  
Of their revenues the tenth part, unto  
This war, unless they would in person go.  
And for a sum in present to be made,  
The tenth of all the moveables they had  
Should levied be for preparation.  
In every part of his dominion  
B●…yond the Seas, this order Henry gave.  
And thence to England crossed the Se●…, to have  
Th●… Edict put in execution there;  
〈◊〉 his wealthiest subjects every where,  
From who●…e estates he mig●…t large sums collect.  
Two hundred 〈◊〉 he did select  
I●… London; and in York an hundred more;  
The like intending in all Towns to do.  
King Philip so; so th' Earl of Flanders did,  
In their 〈◊〉 treasure to provide.   

But what malignant spirit than did reign,  
To make so pious an intention vain?  
How were their noble preparation crossed?  
And that revenge against the paynims lost?  
Al●…s, what Stars malevolent aspect  
Could take such sad and tragical effect  
Against King Henry, as to overthrow  
That happiness, that seemed so near him now?  
How true a Fame might his last days ●…ave won!  
With what content might those grey hairs have gone  
Down to the grave, if in that holy w●…rre  
He happily haddyed, though ne'er so far  
From off his native land? H●… had not then  
With such unworthy cares distracted b●…ene  
As after must ensue▪ nor forced to see  
Again a son's ab●…orr'd impiety.  
But Fates to Henry's age had not ordained  
So great a happiness; sad woes remained  
To vex his state, and break his bleeding heart.  
Do thou, Calliope, declare in part  
What obscure cause produced 〈◊〉 so strange,  
And wrought this sudden, and unlooked for change.   

Reim●…nd Th●…louses Earl had off●…r'd wrong  
(Alt●…ough bu●… slight) to some that d●…d belong  
To Richard o●… 〈◊〉, K●…ng 〈◊〉 son.  
Thence grew so great an alteration.  
For fierce young Richard, with his armed bands  
(F●…rst raised for better war) invad●…s the Lands  
Of Reimond stra●…ght, and wast●… his Country near  
With fire and sword, ●…urprising Cast●…s there.  
At th' Earle's complaint Philip o●… France was moved,  
And to King Henry sent; whose a●…swer proved  
No satisfaction: 〈◊〉 Philip then  
Invaded Berry with his choicest m●…n,  
And took ●…en Towns and Castl●…s ●…uddenly  
●…rom H●…nry there; who strait to Normandy  
From England with a m●…ghty a●…my goes:  
Now on both sides the wars with fury rose.  
The holy voyage is fo●…got; in vain  
The ne●…ghbour-Princes of this jar complain:  
In vain the Pope entreats or threatens now.  
Th' incensed Kings go farther on: although  
Young Richard, Henry's son, from whom at first  
〈◊〉 breach b●…gan, is b●… the L●…gate cursed.   

N●… interviews, no parleyes can do good;  
Tho●…gh under 〈◊〉 old famous Elm, that stood  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 the Kings twice me●….  
〈◊〉, when t●…e wrongs were thought on both sides great,  
Instead of peace, a jarrearose, that more  
Depressed King Henry, than all wars before.  
Philip, ●…or Richard of P●…ictois, demands  
Ad●…la there again from Henry's hands,  
Offers the promised dower, requiring that  
Th' old King, for certainty of Richard's state,  
Would now assure him the inheritance  
Of all his Lands in England, and in France.  
And to that end that homage should be done  
By all the Lords; that john his yo●…nger son,  
To whom the father's favour did incline,  
Should strait be sent to war in Palaesti●….  
To these demands whilst Henry does refuse  
To yield assent, a sadder woe ensues:  
In indignation Richard strait forsakes  
His aged Father; and him●…elfe betakes  
Whol●…y to Philip King of France his side.  
And firmest friendship 'twixt these two is tied.  
With Richard many of the Barons go:  
〈◊〉 herself forsakes old Henry too.  
When now proud Philip, in disdain that from  
This interview no peac●… at all d●…d come,  
Fels down that aged Flme, whose spreading shade  
So oft the place of parley had been made  
'Twixt France and Engla●…d's mighty King●…, and swore  
That place should never hold a parley more.  
Sad did the ruins of so famed a tree  
To all the pitying people seem to be,  
Whose honoured shade had many ages been  
More than a royal Court; where oft was seen  
Such state, as one Imp●…riall house (although  
Of gorgeous structure) could but seldom show;  
Nor one whole kingdom at ●… time cont●…ine;  
Two rival Kings together to remain  
Beneath the covert of a shady tree,  
Where only Nature made their Canopy.  
Those old religious trees, that heretofore  
Great Conquerors spoils, and boasting trophies bore,  
Sacred to Mars, or to 〈◊〉 name,  
Were not more hon●…ur'd, or inde●…t to Fame  
Then was this stately Elm; not 'cause that there  
The Druids, when Druid●…s there were  
Among the ancient Gauls, had prayed, or done  
Their barbarous rites and superstition;  
Nor that the Fawns and Dryads h●…d made  
Their nightly bowers, and ipor●…ed in the shade:  
But 'cause the people●… pride had loved to show  
The place, where Kings did stand at interview.  
This El●…e was felled by Philip in his r●…ge,  
Of Henry's following death a s●…d presage.   

Now too too weak is old King Henry's side  
For those proud ●…oes,) that so unj●…stly tied  
In combination, threaten his estate;  
By his own son and soldiers left of late,  
And by those weapons wounded, that should guard  
His royal person. While the Fates so hard  
Oppressed his grieved soul, in discontent  
To his beloved City Mauns he went,  
Hi●… place of birth, and high in his esteem,  
Bu●… angry Fortune will not leave to him  
That City now; Mauns must be ta'en away.  
Thither, while he does with small forces stay;  
(For but seven ●…undred soldiers guard their King)  
Philip of France and furious Rich●…rd bring  
A potent army. For the town's defence  
The King too weak, is forced to fly from thence,  
And to abandon that beloved Town.  
He that had never fled before, nor known  
What 'twas to fear pursuing enemies,  
From his own son, and young King Phili●… flies.  
And, looking back on that forsaken Town,  
Curses the impious prowess of his son.   

Philip and Richard's unresisted powers  
March further up, with ease surprising Tours.  
Upon which loss another da●… is set  
For ●…nterview, and both the Kings are met  
Not far from Turw●…n. Where, although that clear  
The Sky at their first meeting did appear,  
Yet on th●… sudden from a swelling cloud  
The thunder issued with report so loud,  
It st●…ooke a terror into every heart  
o'er all the fields; and twice (they say) did part  
The Kings a sunder; once with such a force,  
King Henry there had fallen from off his horse,  
Had not his servants held him up. How ere,  
It was decreed that Henry's honour there  
Should ●…all far lower, and he suffer more  
Than all his puissant reign had felt before.  
He that had given conditions still, that ne'er  
Had taken any, from what foe soe'er,  
Yields now to all conditions they demand;  
Yields to deliver into Philip's hand  
Adela now; and for those Provinces,  
Which in that continent he did possess,  
To do him homage; lets his Barons swear  
Allegiance to his son Prince 〈◊〉 there;  
An●… yields to pay for ●…harges of the war  
Two thousand marks to Philip, a●…d so far  
His N●…ble heart, not used to bow, was broke,  
That his grieved spirit within three days forsook  
The earthly mansion. For a Fever joined  
Wi●…h the afflicting anguish of his mind.  
Whose forces soon dis●…olv'd that house of clay.  
A●… Ch●…non then this dying Monarch lay.  
When to increase the anguish of his thought,  
And more disturb his peace, a scroll was brought,  
And (by ill fate) presented to him there,  
Containing all their names, that did adhaere  
In this conspiracy to Philip's side.  
Where first of all his hapless eye espied  
The name of john his son (whither that he  
Were truly one of that conspiracy,  
Or some of Richard's followers, to remove  
Before King Henry died, that wondrous love,  
Which towards john he seemed of late to bear  
Above the other, falsely wrote him there.)  
From thence extremity of passions  
Surprised his soul. He cursed his impious sons,  
Cursed his own birth; and had despairing died,  
Had not Diviner counsel come to guide  
His griefs aright, and by Religion's laws  
Direct his wounded conscience to the cause  
Of those his sufferings, making the disease  
The cure, and troubled thoughts the way to peace.  
Wailing his sins, into the Temple there  
He bids th●…m his yet-living body bear,  
Where he before the holy altar placed  
In humble 〈◊〉 breathes out his l●…st;  
And of so great a Monarch now remains  
No more on ear●…h, than what a tomb contains,  
Who lately over so many Lands did reign,  
From Scotland's bounds, to farthest Aquitaine.  
A Prince in peace of highest Majesty;  
In war too great to find an enemy:  
In power above his neighbour Princes far;  
Who, though his sword were often ●…rawne to war,  
His own conditions without battles wrought,  
Lived still victorious, though he seldom fought,  
And might have seemed above the reach of Fate,  
But that himself his greatest foes begat;  
Wronged by that power which he had made, and crossed  
By those of whom he had deserved most;  
Blessed o●…t miraculously; o●…t again  
Beyond belief depressed; his various reign  
Tempered with all extremities of Fate;  
And though triumphant, yet unfortunate▪   
FINIS.   

THE DESCRIPTION OF KING HENRY THE SECOND, WITH A SHORT SURVEY of the changes in his REIGN.  
IT has been a custom of old Historians, when they record the actions of great Princes, to deliver also some Characters of their persons and peculiar dispositions; that the curiosity of succeeding times, who pry deeply into those men, whose lives were of so great moment in the world, might beefully satisfied and delighted. It will not therefore be amiss to deliver a Character of King Henry the Second; a Monarch greater in Fame and Territories than any Christian King, that then lived▪ He was a man (as we find recorded) of a just stature, a strong and healthful constitution; but somewhat gross, more by the inclination of Nature, then by any fault either of intemperance or sloth. For besides the spareness and sobriety of his diet, he vexed his body with continual labour, and to overcome his natural fat●…esse, was almost immoderate in all his exercises. He was of a ruddy complexion, his head was large, his eyes grey, whose aspect was terrible in his anger; his voice was hoarse and hollow. He was a Prince of great affability, facetious in discourse; and when he was free from anger, or important business, ●…ee was ●…ost pleasant and Courtly in his whole conversation. Eloquent he was by nature, and (which was rare then) very learned. The best histories, which in those dark times could be gotten in Christendom, he had perused with diligence, and by the benefit of an extraordinary memory did retain them perfectly. He was very hardy in enduring either labo●…r, or extremities of the seasons; courageous in war: but not rash, and willing to try all ways before the chance of a battle; yet when there was occasion, very resolute, and so much feared by those Princes that had to do with him, that he was never put to any great field. He was more kind in honouring the memories of his soldiers that were slain, than he was in rewarding those that were alive; and never seemed truly to value his best Captains, till after they were dead. Exceeding frugal and parsimonious he was, (almost below the dignity of a King) but it proved happy to his affairs. Though in private he were very sparing, ●…et abroad he appeared often in great magnificence; his bounty to some poor Princes, and those large sums, which he disbursed to the holy war, might teach the worl●… that he was not covetous, but wisely provident▪ The greatest tax that was laid upon him by those that lived in the same age, was his too too often breaking of his promises; a fault that many Princes, great in other virtues, have been guilty of. He was exceeding fond of all his children, especially in their childish age, before their carriage had deserved either way; which showed that Nature only wrought that strong affection in him. Yet there, where he most loved; and by those of whom he had most deserved, it pleased God, he tasted the greatest crosses; his Sons were his scourges, and the only instruments that did, or (in l●…kelihood) could shake the felicity of so puissant a Monarc●…. So great a contrariety there seemed to be between his affection to them, and the return of theirs to him. He appeared in nothing almost of a tender nature, but in loving them; and might have been thought fomewhat severe in disposition, if he had not been a father, to show the contrary: they were in general of a Noble deportment, taxed in their times almost of no unjust or bad act●…ons, but their ingratitude and disobedience to him: and had carried a repute of the Noblest Princes, if they had not at all been Sons. But perchance it pleased God by the fruit of his loins to punish those sins of the flesh to which the King was so much addicted. He was noted, more than any Prince of his time, to be given to the love of women; but especially after the displeasure conceived against his wife Queen Elinor (as a stirrer up of his Sons against him) when he altogether forbore her bed, he was grown careless of the voice of Fame, and strove not at all to hide his wanton affections. All his virtues (which indeed were many) had occasion often to be known by the varieties of his reign, in which felicity and crosses did so often ●…ceed each other, they were not only tried, but declared to the world. For very remarkable were the alterations of Fortune (if we consider all things) which happened in the reign of this great Prince. Of which if you will take a brief survey, consider it divided as it were into five Acts; for as one says, Tanquam fabula est vita hominis.  
Let the first eight years of his reign (or thereabouts) be counted for the first Act. Where the bravery and wisdom of his youth (for but 24. years of age was he) enough appeared in settling the kingdom, and vindicating the rights of his royal Crown, after so long a confusion, and so many calamities of civil war. He●… expelled the strangers out of the Realm, which in St●…phans time had been the diseases of it. He providently settled not only the revenues but the authority of his Crown (as before appeareth) and fitly disposed of all the Castles and strong holds; which he either kept in his own power, or quite demolished. He maintained the ancient bounds & honour of the Realm not only in the North, but against the Welsh. Beyond the Seas he suf●…ered no damage, but gained upon all occasions. K. Lewis & he were sometimes likely to have come to battle; b●…t peace was made, and King Lewis content rather to sit down with some little loss, then contend with so puissant a foe. Chaumont he took from him, & seized (against his will) upon Nants in Britain: this was indeed the time of K H●…nry's greatest felicity in which he enjoyed his dignity without any vexations, and the people, that had long been afflicted with miserable times, did truly rejoice in their new King. And during these years, as a farther blessing to him, and security to the kingdom, the Queen was fruitful, and bore him three Sons.  
For the second Act, we may consider his next eleven or twelve years; in which time, though he suffered nothing by the hand of war, as not molested by rebels at home, nor threatened at all by foreign enemies: yet by the opposition of one Churchman he found a long and wearisome vexation. For almost all this time did that famous jar of Archbishop Becket, and at the last his lamentable murder a●…flict King Henry, and exceedingly disturb the quiet of his mind. The particulars at large have appeared in the foregoing story, and shall not here trouble the Reader. Yet in this encumbered time, his State and Dignity had great additions; of which the happiest was that easy accession of the Realm of Ireland unto his Sceptre. And another (considering the present occasions of state) of as much importance to him, the gaining of the Duchy of Britain to his third Son Geoffrey. Which he with great wisdom and industry obtained in the nonage of that young Lady Constantia, the daughter an●… heir of Coran Duke of Britain, then deceased. Hitherto his happiness was not at all impaired, nor he afflicted with any thing but the dissension of Archbishop Becket. His times of danger, and great sufferings now ensue.  
Let therefore the three following years of his reign be taken for the third Act; in which the Scene is altogether changed, and instead of a glorious and happy reign, nothing but afflictions, and the extremest dangers that cou●…d be feared, threaten not only his Crown, but life also. This is the time of that great revolt of his three Sons from him; beside so mighty a confederacy joined with them, as Lewis King of France, William King of Scotland, David his brother, Philip Earl of Flanders, Matthew Earl of Boulogne, Theobald Earl of Bloys, beside so many of the greatest and strongest English Peers, as the Earls of Leicester, Chester, and Norfolk, with the Lord Mowbray, and divers others. No part of all his large dominions was free from war; Normandy invaded by Lewis of France, and young King Henry, Aquitaine by his Son Richard possessed against him, as the Duchy of Britain was by Geoffrey. The Northern parts of England were all wasted by the great strength of William K. of Scotland, & the Eastern parts much afflicted by those mercenary troops of Flemings, which the Earl of Leicester brought over, besides the forces of the Earl o●… Nor●…olk. This great Monarch, whose felicity was so lately the envy of his neighbour-Princes, is now become the pity of them all; and the injuries done to his estate and person, are much lamented by some Princes too far off to lend him succour. But be hold the turning of Fortune again; it pleased God again to lift him from this depth of calamity, to the height of honour▪ He now found the benefit of his frugality; and that large treasure, which he before had gathered, was his great assistance in procuring mercenary soldiers to his side; besides some faithful Lords there were, (whom we have named in the story) that were deeply moved at their master's injuries; and so Nobly served him, that within three years after the beginning of these combustions, King Henry, according to his own wishes, beheld a happy and victorious end of them, as is before expressed.  
Let the fourth Act continue about seven years that next ensued, a time of honour, and highest happiness to this great King; after his troubles were allended according to his wish, the King of France daunted, the martial King of Scotland his prisoner, all rebels under his feet; his Sons brought to acknowledge their duty, and all his large dominions in great security. While the mightiest Monarches of the Christian world admired his wisdom and great success, astonished almost at so wonderful a change as they now beheld. His sumptuous Court was filled with congratulating Ambassadors; of whom at one time there were more seen, then ever had been together in the Court of England; as namely from the two Christian Emperors, Manuel of Constantinople, and Fredrick of the Romans, from the Kings of Navarre, and Arragon, ●…om the Archbishop of Triers, and the Earl of Flanders. During the time of this happiness, he married his two youngest daughters (for the eldest was married before to the Duke of Saxony) to the Kings of Sicily and Arragon. He called Parliaments, in which according to his mind, he was furnished with treasure, he wisely settled the estates of Church and Commonwealth, and besides many other wholesome & happy constitutions, he first appointed judges Itinerant for the six circuits of the Realm of England.  
The last and tragical Act may be considered in the five following years, until the end of his reign and lif●…. The date of his felicity was now expired; and nothing followed but trouble and calamity. The beginning of which was a second revolt of his two Sons, Henry and Geoffrey, which was soon taken off by the untimely death of both the Princes (as is before declared in the Poem;) besides the ill success in the affairs of Ireland under the government of john his youngest son. Those troubles that arose from Philip King of France, and prevailed against Henry in his old age, more than any enemy had been able to do before: which had not fallen so heavily upon him, if Richard (than his eldest son) had not unnaturally forsaken his father, and joined in confederacy with King Philip. That miserable dissension broke the heart of old King Henry, and was the end both of his reign and life.  
FINIS.   

THE SINGLE, AND COMPARATIVE CHARACTERS OF HENRY the Son, and RICHARD.  
LEt it not seem impertinent (if the Reader thereby may be informed or delighted) to deliver the Characters of these two Princes the eldest Sons of King Henry the Second, who bore so great and stirring parts in the history of their father's reign. They were Princes of greatest eminence in those times, and upon whom the eyes of Christendom were most set; a large Stage they had to act upon; and early occasions to discover their worth. They were both tall of stature beyond the ordinary height of men; of comely visage, and majestical presence; for courage and magnanimity they were thought equal; and both admired for royal virtue, though of a nature different. Henry was beloved for his sweetness: Richard honoured for his gravi●…. Henry was affable and wondrous liberal: Richard severe and full of constancy. Henry was addicte●… to martial sports and pastimes: Richard more inclined ●…o war itself: One was Courtly: the other serious. One beloved for mercy: the other feared for justice.. The one a refuge: the other a terror to all offenders. Two Princes brothers of so great worth; and yet so divers, have seldom been observed. Yet well might they spring from one root; their father Henry in the mixture of his nature was known to contain both their different Characters; and judged to have a mind (as one ●…peakes of Augustus Caesar) full of variety.  
How much the sweetness and lovely carriage of young King Henry had won upon the world, let one observation (which some of his own time thought like a miracle) teach us to judge. How strange was it, that a young Prince rising in arms against his father, possessed neither of lands nor treasure, much less of a good or just cause, was followed almost by all the neighbouring world against a King of so large a territory, and so full of treasure▪ that in this great defection from him, he was able, almost with mercenary souldier●… to vindicate his right against all those potent enemies▪ This young P●…ince had gained to his side not only his brothers Richard and Geoffrey, and most of the great Nobility of England, but the Kings of France and Scotland, the Earl of Flanders, and many other great foreign Princes. So many rich gifts of mind and body were heaped on this young Henry (saith a Writer of his time) that Nature, as it were envying what she had bestowed, soiled it again with one stain, the vice of ingratitude, and disobedience to so good a father. Which sin of his was thought the cause that plucked down Divine vengeance, and untimely cut off that flourishing youth which was judged worthy (if God had prolonged it) to have ruled a greater Empire.  
The severity and industrious courage of Richard the second Son let this declare; the Earldom of Poictou, and the Duchy of Aquitaine, which were the inheritance of his mother Eleanor, were committed to his government whilst he was very young. Yet in that tender age (so manly were his virtues, so awful was the hand which he carried over the rebellious and stubborn subjects of those Countries, that he soon reduced them to a more quiet state, and settled obedience, than any of their former Princes had ever done. As he was stout in the action of war; so was he constant and unwearied in pursuing his fortune, and making the full use of any success, according to that mark that Lucan gives of julius Caelar:  
Nil credens actum cum quid superesset agendum. He was so severe in punishing their offences, that he began (so great a resemblance sometimes has vice with virtue) to be taxed of cruelty, till the wiser sort had fully considered the quality of his actions, and the necessity of such proceedings. How prevalent he was in the managing of wars (to omit those great & high exploits, which he afterwards achieved when he was King of England) by this one sad observation we may somewhat i●…dge; after the untimely deaths of his two brothers, Henry and Geoffrey, when he only of the Sons was left at man's estate; and unnaturally warred against his father; assisted only by Philip King of France, he more prevailed than his brother Henry with a far greater confederacy had been able to do in the foregoing wars▪ Henry the Son had many and great Princes (as ●…efore we showed) that sided with him. And yet so victorious an end did old King Henry make of that business, that he saw his greatest and most glorious times after the conclusion of that war; but when Ric●…ard revolted from him, assisted only by Philip of France, the father was enforced to suffer more, and stoop lower than any imagined that a Prince of so great a spirit and power could ever have been brought unto. By which finally his heart was broken, and a period set to all his worldly glory. Richard in that was more unhappy than his brother Henry, that his unna●…urall wars we●…e able to give so deep and uncurable a wound to his father's heart, and lent him no time at all to obtain his pardon, as Henry had done, nor could the father live to be a witness of Richard's sorrow and true repentance, as he had been of the others. Which notwithstanding was many ways, after the death of old King Henry, testified by Richard; and last of all, when himself was dying, he commanded his servants to bury him at Fonteverard; and lay him across at his father's feet, to whom his disloyalty and unnatural revolt (as he with grief acknowledged) had been so great a cross.  
FINIS.