THE civil WARES between the houses of Lancaster and York corrected and continued by Samuel Daniel one of the grooms of her majesties most honourable privy Chamber.  
Aetes' prima canat veneres postrema tumultus.  
PRINTED AT LONDON by Simon Watersonne 1609:   

TO THE RIGHT NOBLE Lady, the Lady Marie, Countess Dowager of Pembroke.  
MADAM:  
THis poem of our last civil wars of England, (whereof the many Editions show what kind of entertainment it hath had with the world) I have now again sent-forth, with the addition of two books: the one, continuing the course of the history; the other, making-up a part, which (for haste) was left unfurnished in the former Impressions. And, having nothing else to do with my life, but to work whilst I have it; I held it my part, to adorn (the best I could) this province, Nature hath allotted to my Charge: and which I desire to leave, after my death, in the best form I may; seeing I can erect no other pillars to sustain my memory, but my lines nor otherwise pay my debts and the reckonings of my gratitude to their honour who have done me good, and furthered this work..  
And, whereas this Argument was long since undertaken (in a time which was not so well secured of the future, as God be blessed now it is) with a purpose, to show the deformities of civil Dissension, and the miserable events of Rebellions, Conspiracies, and bloody Revengements, which followed (as in a circle) upon that breach of the due course of Succession, by the usurpation of Hen. 4; and thereby to make the blessings of Peace, and the happiness of an established government (in a direct Line) the better to appear: I trust I shall do a grateful work to my country, to continue the same, unto the glorious union of Hen. 7: from whence is descended our present happiness.  
In which work, I have carefully followed that truth which is delivered in the history; without adding to, or subtracting from, the general received opinion of things as we find them in our common Annalles: holding it an impiety, to violate that public testimony we have, without more evident proof; or to introduce fictions of our own imagination, in things of this nature. Famae rerum standum est. Though I know, in these public actions, there are ever popular bruits, and opinions, which run according to the time & the bias of men's affections: and it is the part of an Historian, to recite them, not to rule them; especially, otherwise then the circumstances may induce: according to that modest saying; Nec affirmare sustineo de quibus dubito, nec subducere quae accepi.  
I have only used that poetical licence, of framing speeches to the persons of men according to their occasions; as C. Salustius, and T. Livius (though Writers in Prose, yet in that kind Poets) have, with divers other ancient and modern Writers, done before me. Wherein, though they have encroached upon others right, and usurped a part that was not properly theirs: yet, seeing they hold so just a proportion, with the nature of men, and the course of affairs; they pass as the parts of the Actor (not the Writer) and are received with great approbation.  
And although many of these Images are drawn with the pencil of mine conceiving: yet I know, they are according to the portraiture of Nature; and carry a resemblance to the life of Action, and their complexions whom they represent. For, I see, Ambition, Faction, and Affections, speak ever one Language, we are like colours (though in several fashions) feed, and are fed with the same nutriments; and only vary but in time.  
Man is a creature of the same dimension he was: and how great and eminent soever he be, his measure and height is easy to be taken. And all these great actions are openly presented on the Stage of the World: where, there are ever Spectators, who will judge and censare how men personate those parts, which they are set to perform; and so enter them in the Records of memory.  
And if I have erred somewhat in the draft of the young Q. Isabel (wife to Ric. 2.) in not suiting her passions to her years: I must crave favour of my credulous Readers; and hope, the young Ladies of England (who peradventure will think themselves of age sufficient, at 14 years, to have a feeling of their own estates) will excuse me in that point. For the rest, setting-aside those ornaments, proper to this kind of Writing; I have faithfully observed the history. Wherein, such as love this Harmony of words, may find, that a subject, of the greatest gravity, will be aptly expressed: howsoever others (seeing in what sort Verse hath been idly abused) hold it but as a language fitting lightness and vanity.  
For mine own part, I am not so far in love with this form of Writing (nor have I sworn fealty only to rhyme) but that I may serve in any other state of invention, with what weapon of utterance I will: and, so it may make good my mind, I care not. For, I see, judgement and Discretion (with what soever is worthy) carry their own Ornaments, and are graced with their own beauties; be they appareled in what fashion they will. And because I find the common tongue of the world is Prose; I purpose in that kind to write the history of England, from the Conquest: being encouraged thereunto, by many noble & worthy Spirits. Although Madame, I must not neglect to prosecute the other part of this work; being thus revived by your goodness: to whom; and to whose Noble Family, I hold myself ever bound; and will labour to do you all she honour, and service I can.  
SAM. DANYEL.   

❧ TO THE HIGH and most Illustrious Prince CHARLES His Excellence.  
SIR:  
PResents to gods were offered by the hands of graces; and why not those of great Princes, by those of the Muses? To you therefore Great Prince of honour, and honour of Princes; I jointly present poesy and music, in the one the service of my defunct Brother, in the other, the duty of myself living, in both the dovotion of two Brothers, your highness humble servants. Your Excellence then who is of such recommendable fame, with all Nations for the curiosity of your rare Spirit to understand, and ability of Knowledge to judge of all things: I humbly invite leaving the Songs of his Muse, who living so sweetly chanted the glory of your High Name: Sacred is the fame of Poets, Sacred the name of Princes; To which  
Humbly bows, and vows himself, ever your highness servant, John Daniel.   

THE FIRST book.  
THE argument.  

What times forego Richard the seconds reign,  
The fatal causes of this civil war,  
His uncles pride, his greedy Minions gain,  
Gloster's revolt, and death, delivered are.  
Herford, accused, exiled, call'd-back again,  
pretends t' amend what others Rule did mar.  
The King from Ireland hastes, but did no good;  
Whilst strange prodigious signs fore-token blood.   

1  
I Sing the civil wars, tumultuous broils,  
And bloody factions of a mighty Land:  
Whose people haughty, proud with foreign spoils,  
Upon themselves turn-backe their conquering hand;  
Whilst Kin their Kin, Brother the Brother foils;  
Like ensigns all against like ensigns band;  
Bows against bows, the crown against the crown;  
Whilst all pretending right, all right's thrown down.   

2  
What fury, o what madness held thee so,  
Dear England (too too prodigal of blood)  
To waste so much, and war without a foe,  
Whilst France, to see thy spoils, at pleasure stood!  
How much Mightst thou have purchased with less woe,  
T'have done thee honour and thy people good?  
Thine might have been whatever lies between  
The Alps and us, the Pyrenei and Rhine.   

3  
Yet now what reason have we to complain?  
Since hereby came the calm we did enjoy;  
The bliss of thee Eliza; happy gain  
For all our loss: whenas no other way  
The heavens could find, but to unite again  
The fatal sev'red Families, that they  
Might bring forth thee: that in thy peace might grow  
That glory, which few Times could ever show.   

4  
Come sacred Virtue: I no Muse, but thee,  
invoke, in this great labour I intent.  
Do thou inspire my thoughts, infuse in me  
A power to bring the same to happy end.  
Raise up a work, for later times to see,  
That may thy glory, and my pains commend.  
Make me these tumults rightly to rehearse:  
And give peace to my life, life to my verse.   

5  
And thou Charles MOuntjoy (who didst once afford  
Rest for my fortunes, on thy quiet shore;  
And cheer'dst me on, these measures to record  
In graver tones, than I had used before)  
Behold: my gratitude makes good my word  
Engaged to thee (although thou be no more)  
That I, who heretofore have lived by thee,  
Do give thee now a room to live with me.   

6  
And Memory, preserv'resse of things done,  
Come thou, unfold the wounds, the wrack, the waste:  
Reveal to me now all the strife begun  
Twixt Lancaster and York, in ages past:  
How causes, counsels, and events did run,  
So long as these unhappy times did last,  
unintermixed with fictions, fantasies.  
I versify the troth; not Poetize.   

7  
And to the end we may with better ease  
Discern the true discourse; vouchsafe to show,  
What were the times foregoing, near to these,  
That these we may with better profit know:  
Tell, how the world fell into this disease,  
And how so great distemperature did grow.  
So shall we see, by what degrees it came,  
" How things, at full, do soon wax out of frame.   

8  
Ten Kings had, from the Norman Conqueror, reigned, 
Which was in the space of 260 years.   
With intermixed and variable fate,  
When England to her greatest height attained  
Of power, dominion, glory, wealth, and State;  
After it had, with much ado, sustained  
The violence of Princes, with debate  
For titles, and the often mutinies  
Of Nobles, for their ancient liberties.   

9  
For, first, the Norman, conquering all by might, 
1067. William 1. surnamed the Conqueror, the base son to Robert the sixth Duke of Normandy, reigned 20. years and 8. months, and left the crown of England to William his third son; contrary to the custom of succession.   
By might was forced to keep what he had got;  
Mixing our customs and the form of Right  
With foreign Constitutions he had brought:  
Mastering the mighty, humbling the poorer wight  
By all severest means that could be wrought:  
And, making the succession doubtful, rend  
This new-got State, and left it turbulent.   

10 
William 2. had wars with his elder brother Robert D. of Normandy: with whom his uncle Otho, and many of the nobility of Eng. took part. He was slain hunting in the new forest by Sir Walter Tirell shooting at a dear, when he had reigned 13. years.   
William his son, tracing his father's ways  
(The great men spent in peace, or slain in fight)  
Upon depressed weakness only preys,  
And makes his force maintain his doubtful right:  
His elder brother's claim, vexing his days,  
His actions and exactions still incite:  
And giving beasts, what did to Men pertain  
(took for a Beast) himself in th'end was slain.   

11  
His brother Henry next commands the State: 
1100. Hen. 1. the youngest son of William 1. reigned 35. years, & 4 months, whose sons Will. & Ric. being drowned on the Seas, he leaves the Crow. to Maude first married to the emperor, Hen. 4 and after to Geffrey Plantagenet E. of Aniou.   
Who, Roberts title better to reject,  
Seeks to repacifie the people's hate;  
And with fair shows, rather than in effect,  
Alleys those grievances that heavy sat:  
Reforms the laws, which soon he did neglect;  
And reft of sons, for whom he did prepare,  
Leaves crown and strife, to Maude his daughter's care.   

12  
Whom Stephen his nephew (falsifying his Oath) 
1135. Stephen son to the E of Bloys & Adela daughter to Wil 1. invades the kingdeom contends with Maude the Empress for the succession, and reigned tumultuarily 18. years and 10. months.   
Prevents, assails the realm, obtains the crown;  
Such tumults raising as torment them both,  
Whilst both held nothing certainly their own:  
Th'afflicted State (divided in their troth  
And partial faith) most miserable grown,  
Endures the while, till peace, and Stephen's death,  
Gave some calm leisure to recover breath.   

13 
1154. Hen 2. son of Geffry Plantagenet E. of Aniou & Maude the empress associated his son Hen. in the Crown and government; which turned to his great disturbance, and set all his sons, Henry, Richard, Geoffrey, & John against him. He reigned 34. years & 7. months.   
When Henry, son to Maude the Empress, reigns,  
And England into form and greatness brought,  
Adds Ireland to this sceptre, and obtains  
Large provinces in France; much treasure goat,  
And from exactions here at home abstaynes:  
And had not his rebellious children sought  
T'embroil his age with tumults, he had been  
The happiest Monarch that this State had seen.   

14 
1189. Richard went to the Holy wars, was king of Jerusalem while his brother John by the help of the King of France usurped the crown of England. He was detained prisoner in Austria, redeemed, and reigned nine years. 9 months.   
Him, Richard follows in the government;  
Who much the glory of our arms increased;  
And all his father's mighty treasure spent,  
In that devoutfull Action of the East:  
Whereto, whiles he his forces wholly bend,  
despite and treason his designs oppressed;  
A faithless brother, and a fatal King,  
Cutoff his growth of glory, in the spring.   

15  
Which wicked brother, contrary to course,  
False John usurps his Nephew Arthur's right;  
Gets to the crown by craft, by wrong, by force;  
Rules it with lust, oppression, rigour might; 
1199. K. John usurps the right of Arthur, son to Geoffrey his elder brother; and reigns 17 years. He had wars with his Barons; who elected Lewis, son to the K. of France.   
Murders the lawful heir without remorse:  
Wherefore procuring all the world's despite,  
A Tyrant loathed, a homicide convented,  
Poisoned he dies, disgraced and unlamented.   

16  
Henry his son is chosen King, though young,  
And jews of France (elected first) beguiled;  
After the mighty had debated long,  
Doubtful to choose a stranger or a child:  
With him, the barons (in the times grown strong)  
War for their ancient laws so long exiled. 
1216. Hen. 3 at 9 years of age, was Crowned King: and reigned 56 years.   
He grants the Charter that pretended ease;  
Yet kept his own, and did his State appease.   

17  
Edward, his son a martial King, succeeds;  
Just, prudent, grave, religious, fortunate:  
Whose happy ordered reign most fertile breeds, 
1272. Ed. 1. had the dominion over this whole island of Britaine: and reigned gloriously 34. years. 7. Months.   
Plenty of mighty spirits to strength his State:  
And worthy minds, to manage worthy deeds,  
Th'experience of those times ingenerate:  
For, ever great employment, for the great,  
Quickens the blood, and honour doth beget.   

18 
1307 Edward 2. abused by his Minions & debaushed by his own weakness, was deposed from his government, when he had reigned 19 years 6. months; and was murdered in prison.   
And had not his misled lascivious son,  
Edward the second, intermitted so  
The course of glory happily begun  
(Which brought him and his favourites to woe)  
That happy current without stop had run  
Unto the full of his son Edward's flow:  
But, who hath often seen, in such a State,  
Father and son like good, like fortunate?   

19  
But now, this great Succeeder, all repairs, 
1326. Edw. 3   
And reinduced that discontinued good:  
He builds up strength & greatness, for his heirs,  
Out of the virtues that adorned his blood:  
He makes his subjects Lords of more than theirs;  
And sets their bounds far wider than they stood.  
His power, and fortune, had sufficient wrought,  
Can but the State have kept what he had got.   

20  
And had his heir survived him in due course, 
Edward the black prince who died before his father.   
What limits England hadst thou found? what bar?  
What world could have resisted so great force?  
O more than men! (two thunderbolts of war)  
Why did not Time your joined worth divorce,  
T'have made your several glories greater far?  
Too prodigal was Nature, thus to do;  
To spend in one Age, what should serve for two.   

21  
But now the sceptre, in this glorious State, 
Richard. 2. being but 11. years of age, was crowned K. of England. 1377   
Supported with strong power and victory,  
Was left unto a Child, ordained by fate  
To stay the course of what might grow too high:  
Here was a stop, that greatness did abate,  
When power upon so weak a base did lie.  
For, least great fortune should presume too far,  
Such oppositions interposed are.   

22  
Never this island better peopled stood;  
Never more men of might, and minds addressed:  
Never more Princes of the royal blood,  
(If not too many for the public Rest)  
Nor ever was more treasure wealth and good;  
Then when this Richard, first, the crown possessed;  
The second of that name, in two accursed:  
And well we might have missed all, but the first.   

23  
In this man's reign, began this fatal strife  
(The bloody argument where of we treat)  
That dearly cost so many'a Prince his life;  
And spoiled the weak, and even consumed the great:  
That, wherein all confusion was so rife,  
As Memory even grieves her to repeat,  
And would that time might now this knowledge lose;  
But that 'tis good to learn by others woes.   

24  
Edward the third, being dead, had left this child, 
Richard the 2. son to the black prince.   
(son of his worthy son deceased of late)  
The crown and sceptre of this realm to wield:  
Appointing the protectors of his State  
Two of his sons, to be his better shield;  
Supposing, uncles, free from guile or hate,  
Would order all things for his better good,  
In the respect and honour of their blood.   

25  
Of these, John, Duke of Lancaster, was one, 
The D. of Lancaster entitled K. of Castille in the right of his wife Constance eldest daughter to K. Peter.   
(Too great a subject grown, for such a State.  
The title of a King, and glory won  
In great exploits his mind did elevate  
Above proportion kingdoms stand upon:  
Which made him push at what his issue gate) 
Edmond Langly Earl of Cambridge; after created D. of York.   
The other, Langley: whose mild temperatness  
Did tend unto a calmer quietness.   

26  
With these, did Woodstock interpose his part;  
A man, for action violently bend, 
Thomas of Woodstocke after made D. of Gloucester.   
And of a spirit averse, and overthwart;  
Which could not suit a peaceful government:  
Whose ever-swelling, and tumultuous heart  
Wrought his own ill and others discontent.  
And these had all the manage of affairs,  
During the time the King was under years.   

27  
And in the first years of his government,  
Things past, as first; the wars in France proceed,  
Though not with that same fortune and event,  
Being now not followed with such careful heed;  
Our people here at home, grown discontent,  
Through great exactions, insurrections breed:  
Private respects hindered the commonweal:  
And idle ease doth on the mighty steal.   

28  
Too many Kings breed factions in the Court:  
The head too weak, the members grown too great.  
Which evermore doth happen in this sort,  
When Children rule; the plague which God doth threat  
Unto those kingdoms which he will transport  
To other lines, or utterly defeat:  
" For, the ambitious, once enured to reign,  
" Cannever never brook a private state again.   

29  
" And kingdoms ever suffer this distress,  
" Where one, or many, guide the infant King:  
" Which one or many (tasting this excess  
" Of greatness & command) can never bring  
" Their thoughts again t'obey, or to be less.  
" From hence, these insolencies ever spring;  
" Contempt of others, whom they seek to foil:  
" Then follow leagues, destruction, ruin, spoil.   

30  
And whether they, which underwent this charge,  
Permit the King to take a youthful vain,  
That they their private better might enlarge:  
Or whether he himself would farther strain  
(Thinking his years sufficient to discharge  
The government) and so assumed the rain:  
Or howsoever, now his ear he lends  
To youthful counsel, and his lusts attends.   

31  
And Courts were never barren yet of those  
Which could with subtle train, and apt advice,  
Work on the Prince's weakness, and dispose  
Of feeble frailty, easy to entice.  
And such, no doubt, about this King arose,  
Whose flattery (the dangerous nurse of vice)  
Got hand upon his youth, to pleasures bend:  
Which, led by them, did others discontent.   

32  
For, now his uncles grew much to mislike  
These ill proceed; were it that they saw  
That others, favoured, did aspiring seek  
Their Nephew from their counsels to withdraw,  
(Seeing him of nature flexible, and weak)  
Because they only would keep all in awe;  
Or that indeed they found the King and State  
Abused by such as now in office sat.   

33  
Or rather else, they all were in the fault;  
Th'ambitious uncles, th'indiscreet young King,  
The greedy council, and the Minions nought;  
And altogether did this tempest bring:  
Besides, the times, with all injustice fraught,  
Concurred, with such confused misgoverning,  
That we may truly say, This spoiled the State,  
" youthful counsel, private gain, partial Hate.   

34  
And then the King, besides his jealousies  
Which nourished were, had reason to be led  
To doubt his uncles for their loyalties;  
Since john of Gaunt (as was discovered)  
Had practised his death in secret wise;  
And Gloster openly becomes the head  
Unto a league, who all in arms were bend  
T'oppose against the present government; 
Robert veer Duke of Ireland.    

35  
Pretending to remove such men as were  
Accounted to abuse the king, and State. 
Ann. Reg. 11. the D. of Gloster with the E E. of Derby, Arundel, Nottingham, Warwick & other L L. having forced the K. to put from him all his officers of Court, at this Parliament, caused most of them to be executed: as, John Beauchamp L. Steward of his house, Sir Simon Burley, L. Chamberlain, with many other. Also the L. chief justice was here executed, and all the judges condemned to death, for maintaining the King's prerogative against these L L. & the constitutions of the last Parliament, in Ann. 10   
Of whom, the chief they did accuse, was veer,  
Made Duke of Ireland, with great grace of late;  
And divers else, who for the place they bear  
Obnoxious are, and subject unto hate.  
And these must be sequestered with all speed:  
Or else they vowed, their sword should do the deed.   

36  
The King was forced in that next Parliament,  
To grant them what he durst not well refuse.  
For, thither armed they came, and fully bend  
To suffer no repulse, nor no excuse:  
And here they did accomplish their intent;  
Where justice did her sword, not balance, use.  
For, even that sacred place they violate,  
Arresting all the judges as they sat.   

37  
And here had many worthy men their end,  
Without all form, or any course of Right.  
" For, still these broils, that public good pretend,  
" work most injustice, being done through spite.  
" For, those aggrieved evermore do bend  
" Against such as they see of greatest might:  
" Who, though they cannot help what will go ill;  
" Yet, since they may do wrong, are thought they will.   

38  
And yet herein I mean not to excuse  
The justices, and Minions of the King  
(Who might their office and their grace abuse)  
But blame the course held in the managing.  
" For, great-men, overgraced, much rigour use.  
" Presuming favourits discontentment bring.  
" And disproportions harmony do break.  
" Minions, too great, argue a king too weak.   

39  
Now, that so much was granted, as was sought;  
A reconcilement made, although not meant,  
Appeased them all in show, but not in thought,  
Whilst every one seemed outwardly content:  
Though hereby king, nor peers, nor people got  
More love, more strength, or easier government;  
But every day, things still succeeded worse.  
" For good from Kings is seldom drawn by force.   

40  
And thus it lo continued, till by chance  
The Queen (which was the emperors daughter) died: 
Ann. Reg. 18.   
whenas the King, t' establish peace with France,  
And better for home-quiet to provide,  
Sought by contracting marriage to advance  
His own affairs, against his uncles pride;  
took the young daughter of King Charles to wife: 
Ann. 20. Isabel, daughter to Charles, 6.   
Which after, in the end, raised greater strife.   

41  
For, now his uncle Gloster much repined,  
Against this French alliance and this peace:  
As either out of a tumultuous mind;  
(Which never was content the wars should cease:)  
Or that he did dishonourable find  
Those articles which did our State decrease;  
And therefore stormed because the crown had wrong:  
Or that he feared, the King would grow too strong.   

42  
But whatsoever moved him; this is sure,  
Hereby he wrought his ruin in the end;  
And was a fatal cause, that did procure  
The swift approaching mischiefs that attend.  
For lo, the King no longer could endure  
Thus to be crossed in what he did intend;  
And therefore watched but some occasion fit  
T'attache the Duke, when he thought least of it.   

43  
And Fortune, to set forward this intent,  
The Cont S. Paul, from France, doth hither bring:  
Whom Charles the sixth employed in complement, 
Valeran E. of S. Paul who had married the King's half sister.   
To see the Queen, and to salute the King.  
To whom he shows his uncles discontent,  
And of his secret dangerous practising,  
How he his subjects sought to sullevate,  
And break the league with France concluded late.   

44  
" To whom the Cont, most cunningly replies;  
" Great Prince, it is within your power, with ease  
" To remedy such fears, such jealousies,  
" And rid you of such mutineers as these;  
" By cutting off that, which might greater rise:  
" And now at first, preventing this disease,  
" And that before he shall your wrath disclose.  
" For, who threats first, means of revenge doth lose.   

45  
" First take his head; then tell the reason why:  
" Stand not to find him guilty by your laws.  
" You easier shall with him your quarrel try  
" Dead then alive, who hath the better cause.  
" For, in the murmuring vulgar, usually  
" This public course of yours compassion draws;  
" Especially in cases of the great:  
" Which work much pity, in the undiscreat.   

46  
" And this is sure, though his offence be such:  
" Yet doth calamity attract commorse:  
" And men repine at Prince's bloodshed much,  
" (How iust-soever) judging 'tis by force.  
" I know not how, their death gives such a tuch,  
" In those that reach not to a true discourse;  
" As so shall you, observing formal right,  
" Be held still as unjust, and win more spite.   

47  
" And, oft, the cause may come prevented so:  
" And therefore when 'tis done, let it be heard.  
" For, thereby shall you scape your private woe,  
" And satisfy the world too, afterward.  
" What need you weigh the rumours that shall go?  
" What is that breath, being with your life compared?  
" And therefore, if you will be ruled by me,  
" In secret sort, let him dispatched be.   

48  
And then arraign the chief of those you find  
Were of his faction secretly compact:  
Who may so well be handled in their kind;  
As their confessions, which you shall exact,  
May both appease the aggrieved people's mind,  
And make their death to aggravate their fact.  
So shall you rid yourself of dangers quite;  
And show the world, that you have done but right.   

49  
This counsel, uttered unto such an ear  
As willing listens to the safest ways,  
Works on the yielding matter of his fear;  
Which easily to any course obeys.  
For, every Prince, seeing his danger near,  
By any means his quiet peace assays.  
" And still the greatest wrongs, that ever were,  
" have then been wrought, when Kings were put in fear.   

50  
Called in with public pardon, and release, 
At the parliament, in Anno 11. the L L. of the league with Gloster, being pardoned for their opposing against the kings proceed, were quiet till Anno 21; when upon report of a new conspiracy, they were surprised.   
The Duke of Gloster, with his complices;  
All tumults, all contentions seem to cease,  
The land rich, people pleased, all in happiness;  
When suddenly Gloster came caught, with peace;  
Warwick, with proffered love and promises:  
And Arundel was in, with cunning brought:  
Who else abroad, his safety might have wrought.   

51  
Long was it not, ere Gloster was conveyed  
To Calais, and there strangled secretly:  
Warwick and Arundel close prisoners laid,  
Th'especial men of his confederacy: 
Mowbray E. Marshal, after made Duke of Norfolk, had the charge of dispatching the D. of Gloster, at Calais.   
Yet Warwick's tears and base confessions staid  
The doom of death; and came confined thereby,  
And so prolongs this not long base-begged breath:  
But Arundel was put to public death.   

52  
Which public death (received with such a cheer,  
As not a sigh, a look, a shrink bewrays  
The least felt touch of a degenerous fear)  
Gave life to envy, to his courage praise;  
And made his stout-defended cause appear 
The K. had by Parliament before pardoned the D. and those two Earls: yet was the pardon revoked.   
With such a face of Right, as that it lays  
The side of wrong towards him, who had long since  
By Parliament forgiven this offence:   

53  
And in the unconceiving vulgar sort,  
Such an impression of his goodness gave  
As Sainted him, and raised a strange report  
Of miracles effected on his grave:  
Although the Wise (whom zeal did not transport)  
" Knew, how each great example still must have  
" Something of wrong, a taste of violence;  
" Wherewith, the public quiet doth dispense.   

54  
The King forthwith provides him of a Guard;  
A thousand Archers daily to attend:  
Which now upon the act he had prepared,  
As th'argument his actions to defend:  
But yet the world hereof conceived so hard,  
That all this nought availd him in the end.  
" In vain, with terror is he fortified,  
" That is not guarded with firm love beside.   

55  
Now storm his grieved uncles, though in vain;  
Not able better courses to advise.  
They might their grievance inwardly complain;  
But outwardly they needs must temporize.  
The King was great; and they should nothing gain  
T'attempt revenge, or offer once to rise:  
This league with France had made him now so strong,  
That they must needs as yet endure this wrong.   

56  
For, like a Lion that escapes his bounds,  
Having been long restrained his use to stray,  
Ranges the restless woods, stays on no ground,  
Riots with bloodshed, wantoness on his pray;  
Seeks not for need, but in his pride to wound,  
Glorying to see his strength and what he may:  
So this unbridled King (freed of his fears)  
In liberty, himself thus wildly bears.   

57  
For, standing now alone, he sees his might  
Out of the compass of respective awe;  
And now begins to violate all right,  
While no restraining fear at hand he saw.  
Now he exacts of all, wastes in delight,  
Riots in pleasure, and neglects the law:  
He thinks his crown is licensed to do ill.  
" That less should list, that may do what it wil   

58  
Thus b'ing transported in this sensual course;  
No friend to warn no counsel to withstand,  
He skill proceedeth on from bad to worse,  
Soothed in all actions that he took in hand, 
— Nihil est quod credere de se, non possit, cùm laudatur, dijs aequa potestas.   
By such as all impiety did nurse,  
Commending ever what he did command.  
" unhappy Kings! that never may be taught  
" To know themselves, or to discern their fault.   

59  
And whilst this course did much the kingdom daunt,  
The Duke of Herford being of courage bold, 
Hen. Bollingbroke of Hereford.   
As son and heir to mighty John of Gaunt,  
Utters the passion which he could not hold  
Concerning these oppressions, and the want  
Of government: which he to Norfolk told; 
Tho. Mowbray D. of Norfolk.   
To th'end, he (being great about the king)  
Might do some good, by better counseling.   

60  
Hereof doth Norfolk presently take hold,  
And to the king the whole discourse relate:  
Who, not conceipting it, as it was told,  
But judging it proceeded out of hate;  
Disdeigning deeply to be so controwled,  
That others should his Rule prejudicate,  
Charged Herford therewithal: who re-accused  
Norfolk, for words of treason he had used.   

61  
Norfolk denies them peremptorily.  
Herford recharged, and supplicates the king,  
To have the combat of his enemy;  
That by his sword he might approve the thing.  
Norfolk desires the same, as earnestly:  
And both with equal courage menacing  
Revenge of wrong; that none knew which was free:  
For, times of faction, times of slander be.   

62  
The combat granted, and the day assigned,  
They both in order of the field appear,  
Most richly furnished in all martial kind,  
And at the point of intercombate were;  
When (lo) the king changed suddenly his mind,  
Casts down his warder to arrest them there;  
As being advised a better way to take,  
Which might for his more certain safety make.   

63  
For, now considering (as it likely might)  
The victory should hap on herford's side  
(A man most valiant and of noble spirit,  
Beloved of all, and ever worthy tried)  
How much he might be graced in public sight,  
By such an act, as might advance his pride,  
And so become more popular by this;  
Which he fears, too much he already is.   

64  
And therefore he resolves to banish both, 
Mowbray was banished the very day (by the course of the year) whereon he murdered the D. of Gloucester.   
Though th'one in chiefest favour with him stood,  
A man he dearly loved; and might be loath  
To leave him, that had done him so much good:  
Yet having cause to do as now he doth,  
To mitigate the envy of his blood,  
Thought best to lose a friend, to rid a foe;  
And such a one, as now he doubted so.   

65  
And therefore to perpetual exile he  
Mowbray condemns; Herford but for ten years:  
Thinking (for that the wrong of this decree,  
Compared with greater rigour, less appears)  
It might of all the better liked be:  
But yet such murmuring of the fact he hears,  
That he is feign four of the ten for give,  
And judged him six years in exile to live.   

66  
At whose departure hence out of the Land,  
How did the open multitude reveal  
The wondrous love they bore him underhand!  
Which now, in this hot passion of their zeal,  
They plainly show'd; that all might understand  
How dear he was unto the common weal.  
They feared not to exclaim against the King;  
As one, that sought all good men's ruining.   

67  
Unto the shore, with tears, with sighs, with moan,  
They him conduct; cursing the bounds that stay  
Their willing feet, that would have further gone,  
Had not the fearful Ocean stopped their way:  
" Why Neptune; Hast thou made us stand alone  
" divided from the world, for this, say they?  
" Hemd-in, to be a spoil to tyranny,  
" leaving affliction hence no way to fly?   

68  
" Are we locked up, poor souls, here to abide  
" Within the watery prison of thy waves,  
" As in a fold, where subject to the pride  
" And lust of Rulers we remain as slaves?  
" Here in the reach of might, where none can hide  
" From th'eye of wrath, but only in their graves?  
" happy confiners you of other lands,  
" That shift your soil, and oft scape tyrants' hands.   

69  
" And must we leave him here, whom here were fit  
" We should retain, the pillar of our State?  
" Whose virtues well deserve to govern it,  
" And not this wanton young effeminate.  
" Why should not he in regal honour sit,  
" That best knows how a realm to ordinate?  
" But, one day yet, we hope thou shalt bring back  
" (dear Bullingbrooke) the justice that we lack.   

70  
" Thus muttered, lo, the malcontented sort;  
" That love Kings best, before they have them, still;  
" And never can the present State comport,  
" But would as often change, as they change will.  
" For, this good Duke had won them in this sort  
" By succouring them, and pitying of their ill,  
" That they supposed straight it was one thing,  
" To be both a good Man, and a good King.   

71  
whenas the graver fort that saw the course,  
And knew that Princes may not be controlled,  
Liked well to suffer this, for fear of worse;  
" Since, many great, one kingdom cannot hold.  
For, now they saw, intestine strife, of force,  
The apt-divided State entangle would,  
If he should stay whom they would make their head,  
By whom the vulgar body might be led.   

72  
" They saw likewise, that Princes oft are feign  
" To buy their quiet, with the price of wrong:  
" And better 'twere that now a few complain,  
" Then all should mourn, aswell the weak as strong:  
" Seeing still how little, realms by change do gain;  
" And therefore learned by observing long,  
" T'admire times past, follow the present will,  
" Wish for good Princes, but t'endure the ill.   

73  
For, when it nought avails, what folly then  
To strive against the current of the time?  
Who will throw down himself, for other men,  
That make a ladder by his fall to climb?  
Or who would seek t'embroil his Country, when  
He might have rest; suffering but others crime?  
" Since wise men ever have preferred far  
" Th'unjustest peace, before the justest war.   

74  
Thus they considered, that in quiet sat,  
Rich or content, or else unfit to strive:  
Peace-lover wealth, hating a troublous State,  
Doth willing reasons for their rest contrive:  
But, if that all were thus considerate,  
How should in Court, the great, the favoured thrive?  
Factions must be, and these varieties:  
And some must fall, that othersome may rise.   

75  
But, long the Duke remained not in exile,  
Before that John of Gaunt, his father, dies.  
Upon whose state the king seized now, this while,  
Disposing of it, as his enemies.  
This open wrong no longer could beguile  
The world, that saw these great indignities.  
Which so exasperates the minds of all,  
That they resolved, him home again to call.   

76  
For, now they saw, t' was malice in the King  
(Transported in his ill-conceived thought)  
That made him so to prosecute the thing  
Against all law, and in a course so nought.  
And this advantage to the Duke did bring  
More fit occasions; whereupon he wrought.  
" For, to a man so strong, and of such might,  
" He gives him more, that takes away his right.   

77  
The King in this mean time (I know not how) 
An. Reg. 22.   
Was drawn into some actions, forth the Land,  
T'appease the Irish, that revolted now:  
And, there attending what he had in hand,  
Neglects those parts from whence worse dangers grow;  
As ignorant, how his affairs did stands  
Whether the plot was wrought it should be so,  
Or that his fate did draw him on to go.   

78  
Most sure it is, that he committed here  
An ignorant and idle oversight;  
Not looking to the Duke's proceed there,  
Being in the Court of France, where best he might;  
Where both the King and all assured were  
T' have stopped his course, being within their right:  
But now he was exiled, he thought him sure;  
And, free from farther doubting, lived secure.   

79  
So blinds the sharpest counsels of the wise  
This overshadowing providence on high;  
And dazzleth all their clearest sighted eyes,  
That they see not how nakedly they lie.  
There where they little think, the storm doth rise,  
And overcasts their clear security:  
When man hath stopped all ways save only that,  
Which (as least doubted) ruin enters at.   

80  
And now was all disorder in th'excess,  
And whatsoever doth a change portend;  
As, idle luxury, and wantonness,  
Proteus-like varying Pride, vain without end:  
Wrong-worker Riot (motive to oppress)  
Endless Exactions, which the idle spend,  
Consuming usury, and credits cracked,  
called-on this purging war, that many lacked.   

81  
Then Ill-perswading want, in martial minds,  
And wronged patience (long oppressed with might)  
Looseness in all (which no religion binds)  
Commanding force (the measure made of Right)  
Gave fuel to this fire, that easy finds  
The way, t'inflame the whole endangered quite:  
These were the public breeders of this war;  
By which, still greatest States confounded be.   

82  
For, now this peace with France had shut in here  
The overgrowing humours wars do spend.  
For, where t'euacuate no employments were,  
Wider th'unwieldy burden doth distend.  
Men, wholly used to war, peace could not bear;  
As knowing no other course, whereto to bend:  
For, brought up in the broils of these two reams,  
They thought best fishing still, in troubled streams.   

83  
Like to a river, that is stopped his course,  
Doth violate his banks, breaks his own bed,  
Destroys his bounds, and overruns, by force,  
The neighbour-fieldes, irregularly spread:  
Even so this sudden stop of war doth nurse  
Home broils, within itself, from others led:  
So dangerous the change hereof is tried  
E'er minds 'come soft, or otherwise employed.   

84  
But, all this makes for thee, o Bullingbrook,  
To work a way unto thy sovereignty.  
This care, the heavens, Fate, and Fortune took,  
To bring thee to thy Sceptre easily.  
Upon thee falls that hap, which him forsook,  
Who, crowned a King, a King yet must not die.  
Thou wert ordained, by providence, to raise  
A quarrel, lasting longer than thy days.   

85  
For, now this absent Lord, out of his Land  
(Where though he show'd great spirit and valour then;  
Being attended with a worthy band  
Of valiant peers, and most courageous men)  
Gave time to them at home, that had in hand  
Th'ungodly work, and knew the season when:  
Who fail not to advise the Duke with speed;  
Soliciting to what he soon agreed.   

86  
Who presently, upon so good report, 
The D. being bavished in September, landed in the beginning of Julie, after, of Rauenspurre, in Yorkshire, some say but with 60. men, other with 3000 and 8 ships set forth and furnished by the Duke of Britain Ann. Reg. 22.   
Relying on his friend's fidelity,  
conveys himself out of the French Kings Court,  
Under pretence to go to Britanny:  
And, with his followers, that to him resort,  
Landed in England: welcomed joyfully  
Of th'altering vulgar, apt for changes still;  
As headlong carried with a present will.   

87  
And come to quiet shore, but not to rest;  
The first night of his joyful landing here,  
A fearful vision doth his thoughts molest:  
Seeming to see in reverent form appear  
A fair and goodly woman all distressed; 
The Genius of England appears to Bullingbrooke.   
Which, with full-weeping eyes and rent hair,  
Wring her hands (as one that grieved and prayed)  
With sighs commixed with words, unto him said;   

88  
" O whither dost thou tend, my unkind son?  
" What mischief dost thou go-about to bring  
" To her, whose Genius thou here look'st upon,  
" Thy Mother-countrey, whence thyself didst spring?  
" Whither thus dost thou, in ambition, run,  
" To change due course, by foul disordering?  
" What bloodshed, what turmoils dost thou commence,  
" To last for many woeful ages hence?   

89  
" Stay here thy foot, thy yet unguilty foot,  
" That canst not stay when thou art farther in.  
" Retire thee yet unstained, whilst it doth boot:  
" The end, is spoil, of what thou dost begin:  
" injustice never yet took lasting root,  
" Nor held that long, impiety did win.  
" The babes, unborn, shall (o) be borne to bleed  
" In this thy quarrel, if thou do proceed.   

90  
This said, she ceased: when he in troubled thought  
Grieved at this tale and sighed, and thus replies;  
" dear country, o I have not hither brought  
" These arms to spoil, but for thy liberties:  
" The sin be on their head, that this have wrought;  
" Who wronged me first, and thee do tyrannize.  
" I am thy Champion, and I seek my right:  
" provoked I am to this, by others spite.   

91  
" This, this pretence, saith she, th'ambitious find  
" To smooth injustice, and to flatter wrong.  
" Thou dost not know what then will be thy mind,  
" When thou shalt see thyself advanced and strong.  
" When thou hast shaked off that, which others bind;  
" Thou soon forgettest what thou learnedest long.  
" Men do not know what then themselves will be,  
" whenas, more than themselves, themselves they see.   

92  
And here with all, turning about he wakes,  
Labouring in spirit, troubled with this strange sight:  
And mused a while, waking advisement takes  
Of what had passed in sleep and silent night:  
Yet hereof no important reckoning makes,  
But as a dream that vanished with the light:  
The day designs, and what he had in hand  
Left it to his diverted thoughts unscand.   

93  
Doubtful at first, he wary doth proceed;  
Seems not: t'affect that, which he did effect:  
Or else perhaps seems, as he meant indeed,  
Sought but his own, and did no more expect.  
Then, Fortune, thou art guilty of his deed:  
That didst his state above his hopes erect:  
And thou must bear some blame of his great sin;  
That leftst him worse, than when he did begin.   

94  
Thou didst conspire with Pride, and with the Time,  
To make so easy an ascent to wrong,  
That he who had no thought so high to climb  
(With savouring comfort still allured along)  
Was with occasion thrust into the crime;  
Seeing others weakness and his part so strong.  
" And who is there, in such a case that will  
" Do good, and fear, that may live free with ill?   

95  
We will not say nor think, O Lancaster,  
But that thou than didst mean as thou didst swear  
Upon th'evangelists at Doncaster,  
In th' eye of heaven, and that assembly there,  
That thou but as an upright orderer,  
Soughtest to reform th'abused kingdom hear,  
And get thy right, and what was thine before;  
And this was all; thou wouldst attempt no more:   

96  
Though we might say, and think, that this pretence  
Was but a shadow to the intended act;  
Because th'event doth argue the offence,  
And plainly seems to manifest the fact:  
For that hereby thou mightst win confidence  
With those, whom else thy course might hap distracted,  
And all suspicion of thy drift remove;  
" Since easily men credit whom they love.   

97  
But, God forbidden we should so nearly pry  
Into the lowe-deepe-buried sins long passed,  
T'examine and confer iniquity,  
Whereof faith would no memory should last:  
That our times might not have t'exemplifie  
With aged stains; but, with our own shame cast,  
Might think our blot the first, not done before;  
That new-made sins might make us blush the more.   

98  
And let unwresting charity believe  
That then thy oath with thy intent agreed;  
And others faith, thy faith did first deceive,  
Thy after-fortune forced thee to this deed.  
And let no man this idle censure give,  
Because th'event proves so, 'twas so decreed.  
" For, oft our counsels sort to other end,  
" Then that which frailty did at first intend.   

99  
Whilst those that are but outward lookers on  
(Who seldom sound these mysteries of State)  
Deem things were so contrived as they are done,  
And hold that policy, which was but fate;  
Imagining, all former acts did run  
Unto that course they seethe the effects relate;  
Whilst still too short they come, or cast too far,  
" And make these great men wiser than they ar.   

100 
The D. put to death William Scroop E. of Wiltshire, Treasurer of Eng. with Sir Hen. green, & Sir John Bushy, for misgoverning the king and the realm.   
But, by degrees he ventures now on blood;  
And sacrificed, unto the people's love,  
The death of those that chief in envy stood:  
As, th' Officers (who first these dangers prove)  
The Treasurer, and those whom they thought good,  
Bushy and green, by death he must remove:  
These were the men, the people thought, did cause  
Those great exactions, and abused the laws.   

101  
This done, his cause was preached with learned skill,  
By Arundel, th' Archbishop: who there showed  
A Pardon sent from Rome, to all that will  
Take part with him, and quit the faith they owed 
Th. Arundel Archbish. of Canterbury.   
To Richard; as a Prince unfit and ill:  
On whom the crown was fatally bestowed.  
And easy-yielding zeal was quickly caught,  
With what the mouth of gravity had taught.   

102  
O that this power, from everlasting given 
Bis peccat, qui pretextu Religionis peccat.   
(The great alliance made twixt God and us;  
Th' intelligence that earth doth hold with heaven)  
Sacred Religion; o that thou must thus  
Be made to smooth our ways unjust, uneven;  
Brought from above, earth-quarrels to discuss!  
Must men beguile our souls, to win our wills,  
And make our zeal the furtherer of ills?   

103  
But, the ambitious, to advance their might,  
Dispense with heaven, and what Religion would.  
" The armed will find right, or else make right;  
If this means wrought not, yet an other should.  
And this and other now do all incite  
To strength the faction that the Duke doth hold:  
Who easily obtained what he sought;  
His virtues and his love so greatly wrought.   

104  
The King, still busied in this Irish war  
(Which by his valour there did well succeed)  
Had news, how here his Lords revolted are,  
And how the Duke of Herford doth proceed:  
In these affairs he fears are grown too far;  
Hastes his return from thence with greatest speed:  
But was by tempests, winds, and seas debarred;  
As if they likewise had against him warred.   

105  
But, at the length (though late) in Wales he lands: 
Edward D. of Aumerle son to the D. of York.   
Where, thoroughly informed of Henry's force,  
And well advertised how his own case stands  
(Which to his grief he sees tends to the worse)  
He leaves to Aumarle, at Milford, all those bands  
He brought from Ireland: taking thence his course  
To Conway (all disguised) with fourteen more, 
Conway Castle in Wales.   
To th'Earl of Salisbury, thither sent before:   

106  
Thinking, the Earl had raised some army there;  
Whom there he finds for saken all alone: 
Montague E. of Salisbury.   
The forces, in those parts which levied were,  
Were closely shrunk away, dispersed and gone.  
The king had stayed too long; and they, in fear,  
Resolved every man to shift for one.  
At this amazed, such fortune he laments;  
Foresees his fall, whereto each thing consents.   

107  
In this disturbed tumultuous broken State,  
Whilst yet th'event stood doubtful what should be;  
Whilst nought but headlong running to debate,  
And glittering troops and arm or men might see:  
Fury, and fear, compassion, wrath, and hate,  
Confused through all the land, no corner free:  
The strong, all mad, to strife, to ruin bend;  
The weaker wailed: the aged they lament,   

108  
And blame their many years that live so long,  
To see the horror of these miseries.  
Why had not we (said they) died with the strong,  
In foreign fields, in honourable wise,  
In just exploits, and noble without wrong,  
And by the valiant hand of enemies?  
And not thus now reserved, in our age,  
To home-confusion, and disordered rage.   

109  
Unto the Temples flock the weak, devout,  
Sad wailing Women; there to vow and pray  
For husbands, brothers, or their sons gone out  
To bloodshed: whom nor tears, nor love could stay.  
Here, grave religious Fathers (which much doubt  
The sad events these broils procure them may)  
As Prophets warn, exclaim, dissuade these crimes,  
By the examples fresh of other times.   

110  
And (o!) what, do you now prepare, said they,  
Another Conquest, by these fatal ways?  
What, must your own hands make yourselves a prey  
To desolation, which these tumults raise?  
What Dane, what Norman, shall prepare his way  
To triumph on the spoil of your decays?  
That, which nor france, nor all the world, could do  
In union, shall your discord bring you to?   

111  
Conspire against us, neighbour nations all,  
That envy at the height whereto weare grown:  
Conjure the barbarous North, and let them call  
Strange fury from far distant shores unknown;  
And let them altogether on us fall,  
So to divert the ruin of our own:  
That we, forgetting what doth so incense,  
May turn the hand of malice, to defence.   

112  
Calm these tempestuous spirits, O mighty Lord;  
This threatening storm that overhangs the landlord.  
Make them consider, ere they ' unsheath the sword,  
How vain is th' earth, this point whereon they stand;  
And with what sad calamities is stored  
The best of that, for which th' Ambitious band:  
" labour the end of labour, strife of strife;  
" Terror in death, and horror after life.   

113  
Thus they in zeal, whose humbled thoughts were good,  
Whilst in this wide-spread volume of the skies,  
The book of providence disclosed stood,  
Warnings of wrath, foregoing miseries  
In lines of fire and characters of blood,  
There fear full forms in dreadful flames arise,  
Amazing Comets, threatening monarches might,  
And new-seene stars, unknown unto the night,   

114  
Red fiery Dragons in the air do fly,  
And burning Meteors, pointed-streaming lights:  
Bright stars in midst of day appear in sky,  
Prodigious monsters, ghastly fearful sights:  
Strange ghosts, and apparitions terrify:  
The woeful mother her own birth affrights;  
Seeing a wrong deformed infant borne,  
Grieves in her pains, deceived in shame doth mourn.   

115  
The earth, as if afeard of blood and wounds,  
Trembles in terror of these falling bloes:  
The hollow concaves give out groaning sounds,  
And sighing murmurs, to lament our woes:  
The Ocean, all at discord with his bounds,  
Reiterates his strange untimely flows:  
Nature all out of course, to check our course,  
Neglects her work, to work in us remorse.   

116  
So great a wrack unto itself doth, lo,  
Disordered proud mortality prepare,  
That this whole frame doth even labour so  
Her ruin unto frailty to declare:  
And travails to foresignify the woe  
That weak improvidence could not beware.  
" For heaven and earth, and air and seas and all,  
" Taught men to see, but not to shun their fall.   

117  
Is man so dear unto the heavens, that they  
Respect the ways of earth, the works of sin?  
Doth this great All, this universal, weigh  
The vain designs that weakness doth begin?  
Or doth our fear, father of zeal, give way  
Unto this error ignorance lives in?  
And deem our faults the cause that move these powers,  
That have their cause from other cause then ours?   

118  
But, these beginnings had this impious war,  
Th'ungodly bloodshed that did so defile  
The beauty of thy fields, and even did mar  
The flower of thy chief pride, thou fairest isle:  
These were the causes that incensed so far  
The civil wounding hand enraged with spoil;  
That now the living, with afflicted eye,  
Look back with grief on such calamity.   
The end of the first book.   

THE SECOND book.  
THE argument.  

King Richard moans his wrong, and wails his reign:  
And here betrayed, to London he is led,  
Basely attired, attending herford's train:  
Where the one is scorned, the other Welcomed.  
His Wife, mistaking him, doth much complain;  
And both together greatly sorrowed:  
In hope to save his life and ease his thrall,  
He yields up state, and Rule, and crown, and all.   

1  
IN dearth of faith, and scarcity of friends,  
The late great mighty Monarch, on the shore  
In th'utmost corner of his Land, attends  
To call back false obedience, fled before;  
Toils, and in vain, his toil and labour spends;  
More hearts he sought to gain, he lost the more:  
All turned their faces to the rising sun,  
And leave his setting-fortune, night begun.   

2  
Percy, how soon, by thy example led,  
The household train forsook their wretched Lord! 
This Percy was Earl of Worster, brother to the Earl of Northumberland, and steward of the King's house.   
When, with thy staff of charge dishonoured,  
Thou brok'st thy faith, not steward of thy word,  
And tookst his part that after took thy head;  
When thine own hand had strengthened first his sword.  
" For, such great merits do upbraid, and call  
" For great reward, or think the great too small.   

3  
And Kings love not to be beholding aught:  
Which makes their chiefest friends oft speed the worst.  
For, those, by whom their fortunes have been wrought,  
Put them in mind of what they were at first.  
Whose doubtful faith if once in question brought,  
'tis thought they will offend because they durst:  
And taken in a fault are never spared;  
" Being easier to revenge, then to reward.   

4  
And thus these mighty actors, sons of change,  
These partizanes of factions, often tried;  
That, in the smoke of innovations strange,  
Build huge uncertain plots of unsure pride:  
And, on the hazard of a bad exchange,  
Have ventured all the stock of life beside;  
" Whilst Princes, raised, disdain to have been raised  
" By those whose helps deserve not to be praised.   

5  
But thus is Richard left, and all alone  
Save with th'unarmed title of his right;  
And those brave troops, his fortune-followers gone,  
And all that pomp (the compliments of might)  
Th'amusing shadows that are cast upon  
The state of Princes, to beguile the sight,  
All vanished clean, and only frailty left;  
Himself, of all, besides himself, bereft:   

6  
Like when some great Colossus, whose strong base  
Or mighty props are shrunk or sunk away,  
Foreshowing ruin, threatening all the place  
That in the danger of his fall doth stay,  
All strait to better safety flock apace;  
None rest to help the ruin, while they may.  
" The peril great, and doubtful the redress,  
" Men are content to leave Right in distress.   

7  
And look, how Thames, enriched with many a Flood,  
And goodly rivers (that have made their graves,  
And buried both their names and all their good  
Within his greatness, to augment his waves)  
Glides on, with pomp of Waters, unwithstood,  
Unto the Ocean (which his tribute craves)  
And lays up all his wealth, within that power,  
Which in itself all greatness doth devour:   

8  
So flock the mighty, with their following train, 
The D. of York, left governor of the ' Realm in the absence of the king, having levied a great Army, as if to have opposed against Bullingbrook, brought most of the nobility of the kingdom to take his part.   
Unto the all-receiving Bullingbrook:  
Who wonders at himself, how he should gain  
So many hearts as now his party took;  
And with what ease, and with how slender pain,  
His fortune gives him more than he could look:  
What he imagined never could be wrought  
Is powered upon him, far beyond his thought.   

9  
So, often, things which seem at first in show,  
Without the compass of accomplishment,  
Once ventured on, to that success do grow,  
That even the Authors do admire th'event;  
So many means which they did never know  
Do second their designs, and do present  
Strange unexpected helps, and chief then  
When th' Actors are reputed worthy men.   

10  
And Richard, who looked Fortune in the back,  
Sees headlong-lightness running from the right,  
Amazed stands to note how great a wrack  
Of faith, his riots caused, what mortal spite  
They bear him, who did law and justice lack;  
Sees how concealed hate breaks out in sight,  
And fear-depressed envy (penned before)  
When fit occasion thus unlocked the door.   

11  
Like when some mastiff whelp, disposed to play,  
A whole confused heard of beasts doth chase,  
Which with one vile consent run all away;  
If any hardy than the rest in place  
But offer head, that idle fear to stay,  
Back strait the daunted chaser turns his face,  
And all the rest (with bold example led)  
As fast run on him, as before they fled:   

12  
So, with this bold opposer, rushes-on  
This many-headed monster, Multitude:  
And he, who late was feared, is set upon,  
And by his own (Actaeon-like) pursued;  
His own, that had all love and a we foregone:  
Whom breath and shadows only did delude,  
And newer hopes, which promises persuade;  
Though rarely men keep promises so made.   

13  
Which when he saw; thus to himself complains:  
" O why do you, fond, false-deceived, so  
" Run headlong to that change that nothing gains,  
" But gain of sorrow, only change of woe?  
" Which is all one, if he be like who reigns:  
" Why will you buy, with blood, what you forego?  
" 'tis nought, but shows, that Ignorance esteems:  
" The thing possessed is not the thing it seems.   

14  
" And when the sins of Bullingbrooke shall be  
" As great as mine, and you unanswered  
" In these your hopes; then may you wish for me  
" Your lawful sovereign, from whose faith you fled;  
" And, grieved in your souls, the error see  
" That shining promises had shadowed:  
" As th'humorous sick, removing, find no ease,  
" When changed Chambers change not the disease.   

15  
" Then shall you find this name of liberty  
" (The watchword of Rebellion ever used;  
" The idle echo of uncertainty,  
" That evermore the simple hath abused)  
" But new-turned servitude and misery;  
" And even the same and worse, before refused.  
" Th'aspirer once attained unto the top,  
" Cuts off those means by which himself got up.   

16  
" And with a harder hand, and straighter rain,  
" Doth curb that looseness he did find before;  
" Doubting th'occasion like might serve again:  
" His own example makes him fear the more.  
" Then, o injurious Land, what dost thou gain  
" To aggravate thine own afflictions store?  
" Since thou must needs obey King's government;  
" And no rule, ever yet, could all content.   

17  
" What if my youth hath offered up to lust  
" Licentious fruits of indiscreet desires,  
" When idle heat of vainer years did thrust  
" That fury on: yet now when it retires  
" To calmer state, why should you so distrust  
" To reap that good whereto mine age aspires?  
" The youth of Princes have no bounds for sin,  
" unless themselves do make them bounds within.   

18  
" Who sees not, that sees aught (woe worth the while)  
" The easy way, that greatness hath to fall?  
" environed with deceit, hemm'd-in with guile,  
" soothed up in flattery, fawned on of all:  
" Within his own, living as in exile;  
" Hearsbut with others ears, or not at all:  
" And even is made a prey unto a few,  
" Who lock up grace that would to other show:   

19  
" And who (as let in lease) do farm the crown,  
" And joy the use of majesty and might;  
" whilst we hold but the shadow of our own,  
" pleased with vain shows, and dallied with delight:  
" They, as huge unproportioned mountains, grown  
" between our land and us, shadowing our light,  
" bereave the rest of joy, and us of love,  
" And keep down all, to keep themselves above.   

20  
" Which wounds, with grief, poor unrespected zeal,  
" When grace holds no proportion in the parts;  
" When distribution, in the commonweal,  
" Of charge and honour due to good deserts  
" Is stopped; when others greedy hands must deal  
" The benefit that majesty imparts:  
" What good we meant, comes gleaned home but light,  
" Whilst we are robbed of praise, they of their right.   

21  
Thus he complained; when, lo, from Lancaster 
The E. of Northumberland sent to the king from Hen. Bullingbrook now D. of Lancaster.   
(The new entitled Duke with order sent  
Arrived Northumberland, as to confer  
And make relation of the Duke's intent:  
And offered there, if that he would refer  
The controversy unto parliament,  
And punish those that had abused the State,  
As causers of this universal hate;   

22  
And also see that justice might be had  
On those the Duke of Gloster's death procured,  
and such removed from council as were bad;  
His cousin Henry would, he there assured,  
On humble knees before his Grace be glad  
To ask him pardon, to be well secured,  
and have his right and grace resto'rd again:  
The which was all he laboured to obtain.   

23  
And therefore doth an enterparle exhort,  
Persuades him leave that unbeseeming place,  
and with a princely hardiness resort  
Unto his people, that attend his Grace:  
They meant his public good, and not his hurt;  
and would most joyful be to see his face:  
He lays his soul to pledge, and takes his Oath,  
The oft of Christ, an hostage for his troth.   

24  
This proffer, with such protestations, made  
Unto a King that so near danger stood,  
Was a sufficient motive to persuade,  
When no way else could show a face so good:  
Th'unhonourable means of safety, bade  
Danger accept, what majesty withstood.  
" When better choices are not to be had,  
" We needs must take the seeming boast of bad.   

25  
Yet stands he 'in doubt, a while, what way to take;  
Conferring with that small remaining troup  
Fortune had left; which never would forsake  
Their poor distressed Lord, nor never stoop 
The Bishop of Carlisle. Montague Earl of Salisbury.   
To any hopes the stronger part could make.  
Good Carlisle, Ferby; and Sir Stephen Scroop,  
With that most worthy Montague, were all  
That were content with majesty to fall.   

26  
Time, spare, and make not sacrilegious theft  
Upon so memorable constancy:  
Let not succeeding Ages be bereft  
Of such examples of integrity:  
Nor thou magnanimous Leigh must not be left 
This was sir Peter Leighs ancestor of Lime in Cheshire that now is.   
in darkness, for thy rare fidelity;  
To save thy faith, content to lose thy head;  
That reverent head, of good men honoured.   

27  
Nor will my Conscience I should injury  
Thy memory most trusty Jenico,  
For b'ing not ours; though wish that Gasconie 
Ienico d' Artois a Gascoin.   
Claimed not, for hers, the faith we reverence so;  
That England might have this small company  
Only to her alone, having no more:  
But le'ts divide this good betwixt us both,  
Take she thy birth, and we will have thy troth.   

28  
" grave Montague, whom long experience taught  
" In either fortune, thus advised his King: 
The Earl of Salisbury his speech to K. Richard.   
" Dear sovereign know, the matter that is sought,  
" Is only now your majesty to bring  
" (From out of this poor safety you have got)  
" Into their hands, that else hold every thing:  
" For, now, but only you they want, of all;  
" and wanting you, they nothing theirs can call.   

29  
" Here have you craggy Rocks to take your part;  
" That never will betray their faith to you:  
" These trusty mountains here will never start,  
" But stand t'upbraid their shame that are untrue:  
" Here may you fence your safety with small art,  
" against the pride of that confused Crew:  
" If men will not, these very cliffs will fight,  
" and be sufficient to defend your right.   

30  
" Then keep you here, and here shall you behold,  
" Within short space, the sliding faith of those  
" That cannot long their resolution hold,  
" Repent the course their idle rashness chose:  
" For, that same mercenary faith (they sold)  
" With least occasions discontented grows,  
" And insolent those voluntary bands;  
" Presuming how, by them, he chief stands.   

31  
" And how can he those mighty troops sustain  
" Long time, where now he is, or any where?  
" Besides, what discipline can he retain  
" Whereas he dares not keep them under fear,  
" For fear to have them to revolt again?  
" So that itself when greatness cannot bear,  
" With her own weight, must needs confusedly fall,  
" Without the help of other force at all.   

32  
" And hither to approach he will not dare;  
" Where deserts, rocks, and hills, no succours give;  
" Where desolation, and no comforts are;  
" Where few can do no good, many not live.  
" Besides, we have the Ocean to prepare  
" Some other place, if this should not relieve:  
" So shall you tyre his force, consume his strength,  
" And weary all his followers, out, at length.   

33  
" do but refer to time, and to small time;  
" And infinite occasions you shall find  
" To quail the rebel, even in the prime  
" Of all his hopes, beyond all thought of mind:  
" For, many (with the conscience of the crime)  
" In colder blood will curse what they designed;  
" And bad success, upbraiding their ill fact,  
" draws them, whom others draw, from such an act.   

34  
" For, if the least imagined overture  
" But of conceived revolt men once espy;  
" strait shrink the weak, the great will not endure,  
" Th'impatient run, the discontented fly:  
" The friend his friend's example doth procure,  
" And all together haste them presently  
" Some to their home, some hide; others, that stay,  
" To reconcile themselves, the rest betray.   

35  
" What hope have you, that ever Bullingbrooke  
" Will live a subject, that hath tried his fate?  
" Or what good reconcilement can you look,  
" Where he must always fear, and you must hate?  
" And never think that he this quarrel took  
" To reobtain thereby his private state.  
" 'twas greater hopes, that hereto did him call:  
" And he will thrust for all, or else lose all.   

36  
" Nor trust this subtle Agent, nor his oath.  
" You know his faith: you tried it before hand.  
" His fault is death: and now to lose his troth,  
" To save his life, he will not greatly stand.  
" Nor trust your kinsman's proffer; since you, both,  
" show, blood in Princes is no steadfast band.  
" What though he hath no title? he hath might:  
" That makes a title, where there is no right.   

37  
Thus he: when that good Bishop thus replies, 
The Bishop of Carlisle.   
Out of a mind that quiet did affect:  
" My Lord, I must confess, as your case lies,  
" You have great cause your subjects to suspect,  
" And counterplot against their subtleties,  
" Who all good care and honesty neglect;  
" And fear the worst what insolence may do,  
" Or armed fury may incense them to.   

38  
" But yet, my Lord, fear may aswell transport  
" Your care, beyond the truth of what is meant;  
" As otherwise neglect may fall too short;  
" In not examining of their intent:  
" But, let us weigh the thing which they exhort,  
" 'tis Peace, Submission, and a parliament:  
" Which, how expedient 'tis for either part,  
" 'Twere good we judged with an unpartial heart,   

39  
" And first, for you my Lord, in grief we see  
" The miserable case wherein you stand;  
" void here of succour, help, or majesty,  
" On this poor promontory of your Land:  
" And where how long a time your Grace may be  
" (Expecting what may fall into your hand)  
" we know not; since th'event of things do lie  
" closed up in darkness, far from mortal eye.   

40  
" And how unfit it were, you should protract  
" Long time, in this so dangerous disgrace?  
" As though that you good spirit and courage lacked  
" To issue out of this opprobrious place:  
" When even the face of Kings do oft exact  
" fear and remorse in faulty subjects base;  
" And longer stay a great presumption draws  
" That you were guilty, or did doubt your cause.   

41  
" What subjects ever so enraged would dare  
" To violate a Prince, t'offend the blood  
" Of that renowned race, by which they are  
" Exalted to the height of all their good?  
" What if some things by chance misguided were,  
" Which they have now rebelliously withstood?  
" They never will proceed with that despite  
" To wrack the State, and to confound the right.   

43  
" Nor do I think that Bullingbrook can be  
" So blind-ambitious, to affect the crown;  
" having himself no title, and doth see  
" Others, if you should fail, must keep him down.  
" Besides, the realm, though mad, will never gree  
" To have a right succession overthrown,  
" To raise confusion upon them and theirs,  
" By prejudicing true and lawful heirs.   

43  
" And now it may be, fearing the success  
" Of his attempts, or with remorse of mind,  
" Or else distrusting secret practices,  
" He would be glad his quarrel were resigned;  
" So that there were some orderly redress  
" In those disorders which the realm did find:  
" And this, I think, he now sees were his best;  
" Since farther actions further but unrest.   

44  
" And, for th' impossibility of peace  
" And reconcilement, which my Lord objects;  
" I think, when doing injury shall cease  
" (The cause pretended) then surcease th'effects:  
" Time and some other Actions may increase  
" As may divert the thought of these respects;  
" Others law of forgetting injuries 
Lex Amnestiae.   
" May serve our turn in like calamities.   

45  
" And for his oath, in conscience, and in sense,  
" True honour would not so be found untrue,  
" Nor spot his blood with such a foul offence  
" Against his soul, against his God, and you.  
" Our Lord forbidden, that ever with th'expense  
" Of heaven and heavenly joys, that shall ensue,  
" mortality should buy this little breath,  
" T'endure the horror of eternal death.   

46  
" And therefore, as I think, you safely may  
" Accept this proffer; that determine shall  
" All doubtful courses by a quiet way,  
" needful for you, fit for them, good for all.  
" And here, my sovereign, to make longer stay  
" T'attend for what you are unsure will fall,  
" May slip th'occasion, and incense their will:  
" For, fear, that's wiser than the truth, doth ill.   

47  
Thus he persuades, out of a zealous mind;  
Supposing, men had spoken as they meant:  
And, unto this, the King likewise inclined;  
As wholly unto peace, and quiet bent:  
And yields himself to th'Earl, goes, leaves-behind  
His safety, sceptre, honour, government:  
For, gone, all's gone: he is no more his own;  
And they rid quite of fear, he of the crown.   

48  
A place there is, where proudly raised there stands  
A huge aspiring Rock, neighbouring the Skies;  
Whose surly brow imperiously commands  
The Sea his bounds, that at his proud feet lies:  
And spurns the waves, that in rebellious bands  
Assault his Empire, and against him rise:  
Under whose craggy government, there was  
A niggard narrow way for men to pass.   

49  
And here, in hidden cliffs, concealed lay  
A troup of armed men, to intercept  
The unsuspecting King, that had no way  
To free his foot, that into danger stepped.  
The dreadful Ocean, on the one side, lay:  
The hard-incroching mountain th'other kept.  
Before him, he beheld his hateful foes:  
Behind him, traitorous enemies enclose.   

50  
Environed thus, the Earl gins to cheer  
His al-amased Lord, by him betrayed;  
Bids him take courage, there's no cause of fear,  
These troops, but there to guard him safe, were laid.  
To whom the King; What need so many here?  
This is against your oath, my Lord, he said.  
But, now he sees in what distress he stood:  
To strive, was vain; t'entreat, would do no good.   

51  
And therefore on with careful heart he goes;  
Complains (but, to himself) sighs, grieves, and frets;  
At Rutland dines, though feeds but on his woes:  
The grief of mind hindered the mind of meats.  
For, sorrow, shame, and fear, scorn of his foes,  
The thought of what he was, and what now threats,  
Than what he should, and now what he hath done,  
Master's confused passions all in one.   

52  
To Flint, from thence, unto a restless bed,  
That miserable night, he comes conveyed;  
Poorly provided, poorly followed,  
Vncourted, unrespected, unobeyed:  
Where, if uncertain sleep but hovered  
Over the drooping cares that heavy weighed;  
Millions of figures, fantasy presents  
Unto that sorrow, wakened grief augments.   

53  
His new misfortune makes deluding sleep  
Say 'twas not so (False dreams the truth deny).  
Wherewith he starts; feels waking cares do creep  
Upon his soul, and gives his dream the lie;  
Then sleeps again: and then again, as deep  
Deceits of darkness mock his misery.  
So hard believed was sorrow in her youth:  
That he thinks truth was dreams, & dreams were truth.   

54  
The morning light presents unto his view  
(Walking upon a turret of the place)  
The truth of what he sees is proved too true;  
A hundred thousand men, before his face,  
Came marching on the shore, which thither drew:  
And, more to aggravate his great disgrace,  
Those he had wronged, or done to them despite,  
(As if they him upbraid) came first in sight.   

55  
There might he see that false forsworn vile crew,  
Those shameless agents of unlawful lust,  
His Panders, Parasites (people untrue  
To God and man, unworthy any trust)  
Preacing unto that fortune that was new,  
And with unblushing faces foremost thrust;  
As those that still with prosperous fortune sort,  
And are as borne for Corte, or made in Cort.   

56  
There he beheld, how humbly diligent  
New Adulation was to be at hand;  
How ready Falsehood stepped; how nimbly went  
Base pickthank Flattery, and prevents Command:  
He saw the great obey, the grave consent,  
And all with this new-raised Aspirer stand;  
But, which was worst, his own acted acted there,  
Not by himself; his power, not his, appear.   

57  
Which whilst he viewed, the Duke he might perceive  
Make towards the Castle, to an interview.  
Wherefore he did his contemplation leave,  
And down into some fit place withdrew;  
Where now he must admit, without his leave,  
Him, who before with all submission due  
Would have been glad, t'attend, and to prepare  
The grace of audience, with respective care.   

58  
Who now being come in presence of his king  
(Whether the sight of majesty did breed  
Remorse of what he was in compassing,  
Or whether but to formalize his deed)  
He kneels him down with some astonishing,  
Rose; kneels again (for, craft will still exceed)  
whenas the king approached, put off his Hood,  
And welcomed him, though wished him little good.   

59  
" To whom, the Duke began: My Lord, I know  
" That both uncalled, and unexpected too,  
" I have presumed in this sort to show  
" And seek the right which I am borne unto:  
" Yet pardon I beseech you, and allow  
" Of that constraint, which drives me thus to do.  
" For, since I could not by a fairer course  
" attain mine own, I must use this of force.   

60  
" Well: so it seems, dear cousin, said the King;  
" Though you might have procured it otherwise:  
" And I am here content, in every thing,  
" To right you, as yourself shall best devise:  
" And God vouchsafe, the force that here you bring  
" Beget not England greater injuries.  
" And so they part: the Duke made haste from thence:  
" It was no place to end this difference.   

61  
Strait towards London, in this heat of pride,  
They forward set; as they had fore-decreed:  
With whom, the captive King constrained must ride,  
Most meanly mounted on a simple Steed:  
Degraded of all grace and ease beside,  
Thereby neglect of all respect to breed.  
For, th'overspreading pomp of prouder might  
Must darken weakness, and debase his sight.   

62  
Approaching near the city, he was met  
With all the sumptuous shows joy could devise:  
Where new-desire to please did not forget  
To pass the usual pomp of former guise.  
Striving applause, as out of prison let,  
Runnes-on, beyond all bounds, to novelties:  
And voice, and hands, and knees, and all do now  
A strange deformed form of welcome show.   

63  
And manifold confusion running greets,  
Shouts, cries, claps hands, thrusts, strives and presses near:  
Houses impov'risht were, t'enrich the streets,  
And streets left naked, that (unhappy) were  
Placed from the sight where joy with wonder meets;  
Where all, of all degrees, strive to appear;  
Where divers-speaking zeal one murmur finds,  
In undistinguished voice to tell their minds.   

64  
He that in glory of his fortune sat,  
Admiring what he thought could never be,  
Did feel his blood within salute his state,  
And lift up his rejoicing soul, to see  
So many hands and hearts congratulate  
Th'advancement of his long-desired degree;  
When, prodigal of thanks, in passing by,  
He resalutes them all, with cheerful eye.   

65  
Behind him, all aloof, came pensive on  
The unregarded King; that drooping went  
Alone, and (but for spite) scarce looked upon:  
judge, if he did more envy, or lament.  
See what a wondrous work this day is done;  
Which th'image of both fortunes doth present:  
In th'one, to show the best of glories face;  
In th'other, worse than worst of all disgrace.   

67  
Now Isabella, the young afflicted Queen  
(Whose years had never show'd her but delights,  
Nor lovely eyes before had ever seen  
Other then smiling joys, and joyful sights;  
Borne great, matched great, lived great, and ever been  
Partaker of the world's best benefits)  
Had placed herself, hearing her Lord should pass  
That way, where she unseen in secret was;   

68  
Sick of delay, and longing to behold  
Her long-missed love in fearful jeopardies:  
To whom, although it had, in sort, been told  
Of their proceeding, and of his surprise;  
Yet thinking they would never be so bold  
To lead their Lord in any shameful wise,  
But rather would conduct him as their King;  
As seeking but the States reordering.   

69  
And forth she looks, and notes the foremost train;  
And grieves to view some there she wished not there:  
Seeing the chief not come, stays, looks again;  
And yet she sees not him that should appear:  
Then back she stands, and then desires as feign  
Again to look, to see if he were near:  
At length a glittering troop far off she spies,  
Perceives the throng, and hears the shouts and cries.   

70  
Lo, yonder now at length he comes, saith she:  
Look, my good women, where he is in sight:  
Do you not see him? yonder; that is he,  
Mounted on that white Courser, all in white,  
There where the thronging troops of people be;  
I know him by his seat, he sits so upright:  
Lo, now he bows: dear Lord, with what sweet grace!  
How long, have I longed to behold that face!   

71  
O what delight my heart takes by mine eye!  
I doubt me, when he comes but something near,  
I shall set wide the window: what care I  
Who doth see me, so him I may see clear.  
Thus doth false joy delude her wrongfully  
(sweet Lady) in the thing she held so dear.  
For, nearer come, she finds she had mistook;  
And him she marked, was Henry Bullingbrooke.   

72  
Then envy takes the place in her sweet eyes,  
Where Sorrow had prepared herself a seat:  
And words of wrath, from whence complaints should rise,  
Proceed from eager looks, and brows that threat:  
Traitor, saith she; is't thou, that, in this wise  
To brave thy Lord and King, art made so great?  
And have mine eyes done unto me: this wrong,  
To look on thee? for this, stayed I so long?   

73  
Ah, have they graced a perjured rebel so?  
Well; for their error I will weep them out,  
And hate the tongue defiled, that praised my foe,  
And loathe the mind, that gave me not to doubt:  
What? Have I added shame, unto my woe?  
I'll look no more: Ladies, look you about,  
And tell me if my Lord be in this train;  
Lest my betraying eyes should err again.   

74  
And in this passion turns herself away:  
The rest look all, and careful note each wight;  
Whilst she, impatient of the least delay,  
Demands again; And what, not yet in sight?  
Where is my Lord? What, gone some other way?  
I muse at this. O God, grant all go right:  
Then to the window goes again at last,  
And sees the chiefest train of all was passed;   

75  
And sees not him her soul desired to see:  
And yet hope, spent, makes her not leave to look.  
At last, her love-quicke eyes, which ready be,  
Fastens on one; whom though she never took  
Can be her Lord; yet that sad cheer which he  
Then show'd, his habit and his woeful look,  
The grace he doth in base attire retain,  
Caused her she could not from his sight refrain.   

76  
What might he be, she said, that thus alone  
Rides pensive in this universal joy?  
Some I perceive, as well as we, do moan:  
All are not pleased with every thing this day.  
It may be, he laments the wrong is done  
Unto my Lord, and grieves; as well he may.  
Then he is some of ours: and we, of right.  
Must pity him, that pities our said plight.   

77  
But stay: ist not my Lord himself I see?  
In truth, if it were not for his base array,  
I verily should think that it were he;  
And yet his baseness doth a grace bewray:  
Yet God forbidden; let me deceived be,  
And be it not my Lord, although it may:  
Let my desire make vows against desire;  
And let my sight approve my sight a liar.   

78  
Let me not see him, but himself; a King:  
For so he left me; so he did remove.  
This is not he: this feels some other thing;  
A passion of dislike, or else of love.  
O yes; 'tis he: that princely face doth bring  
The evidence of majesty to prove:  
That face, I have conferred, which now I see,  
With that within my heart, and they agree.   

79  
Thus as she stood assured, and yet in doubt;  
Wishing to see, what seen she grieved to see;  
Having belief, yet feign would be without;  
Knowing, yet striving not to know 'twas he:  
Her heart relenting, yet her heart so stout  
As would not yield to think what was, could be:  
Till, quite condemned by open proof of sight,  
She must confess; or else deny the light.   

80  
For, whither love in him did sympathise,  
Or chance so wrought, to manifest her doubt;  
Even just before, where she thus secret pries,  
He stays, and with clear face looks all about;  
When she: 'tis, o, too true; I know his eyes:  
Alas, it is my own dear Lord cries out:  
And, with that cry, sinks down upon the flore.  
Abundant grief lacked words to utter more.   

81  
Sorrow keeps full possession in her heart,  
Locks it within, stops up the way of breath,  
Shuts senses out of door from every part;  
And so long holds there, as it hazardeth  
Oppressed Nature, and is forced to part,  
Or else must be constrained to stay with death:  
So, by a sigh, it lets in sense again;  
And sense, at length, gives words leave to complain.   

82  
Then, like a torrent had been stopped before,  
Tears, sighs, and words, doubled together flow;  
Confusedly striving whether should do more,  
The true intelligence of grief to show.  
Sighs hindered words: words perished in their store:  
Both, intermixed in one, together grow.  
One would do all: the other, more than's part;  
Being both sent equal Agents, from the heart.   

83  
At length, when past the first of sorrows worst,  
When calmed confusion better form affords;  
Her heart commands, her words should pass out first,  
And then her sighs should interpoint her words;  
The whiles her eyes out into tears should burst:  
This order with her sorrow she accords;  
Which, orderless, all form of order broke:  
So, then began her words, and thus she spoke;   

84  
What? dost thou thus return again to me?  
Are these the triumphs, for thy victories?  
Is this the glory thou dost bring with thee,  
From that unhappy Irish enterprise?  
And have I made so many vows to see  
Thy safe return, and see thee in this wise?  
Is this the lookt-for comfort thou dost bring?  
To come a captive, that went'st out a King?   

85  
And yet, dear Lord, though thy ungrateful Land  
Hath left thee thus; yet I will take thy part:  
I do remain the same, under thy hand;  
Thou still dost rule the kingdom of my heart:  
If all be lost, that government doth stand;  
And that shall never from thy rule departed:  
And so thou be, I care not how thou be:  
Let greatness go; so it go without thee.   

86  
And welcome come, how-so unfortunate;  
I will applaud what others do despise:  
I love thee for thyself; not for thy State:  
More than thyself, is what without thee lies:  
Let that more go, if it be in thy fate:  
And having but thyself, it will suffice:  
I married was not to thy crown, but thee;  
And thou, without a crown, all one to me.   

87  
But what do I, here lurking idly, moan  
And wail apart, and in a single part  
Make several grief? which should be both in one;  
The touch being equal of each others heart.  
Ah, no: sweet Lord, thou must not moon alone.  
For, without me, thou art not all thou art;  
Nor my tears, without thine, are fully tears:  
For thus unjoined, sorrow but half appears.   

88  
join then our plaints, and make our grief full grief:  
Our state being one, let us not part our care.  
Sorrow hath only this poor bare relief,  
To be bemoaned of such as woeful are.  
And should I rob thy grief, and be the thief  
To steal a private part, and several share,  
Defrawding sorrow of her perfect due?  
No, no, my Lord; I come to help thee rue.   

89  
Then forth she goes, a close concealed way  
(As grieving to be seen not as she was);  
labours to attain his presence all she may:  
Which, with most hard ado, was brought to pass.  
For, that night, understanding where he lay,  
With earnest treating she procured her pass  
To come to him. Rigour could not deny  
Those tears, so poor a suit, or put her by.   

90  
Entering the chamber, where he was alone  
(As one whose former fortune was his shame)  
Loathing th'upbraiding eye of any one  
That knew him once, and knows him not the same:  
When having given express command that none  
Should press to him; yet hearing some that came,  
Turns angrily about his grieved eyes:  
When, lo, his sweet afflicted Queen he spies.   

91  
Strait clears his brow; and with a borrowed smile,  
What, my dear Queen? welcome, my dear, he says:  
And (striving his own passion to beguile,  
And hide the sorrow which his eye betrays)  
Can speak no more; but wrings her hands, the while:  
And then, Sweet Lady; and again he stays:  
Th'excess of joy and sorrow both affords  
Affliction none, or but poor niggard words.   

92  
She that was come with a resolved heart,  
And with a mouth full stored, with words well chose;  
Thinking, This comfort will I first impart  
Unto my Lord, and thus my speech dispose:  
Then thus I'll say, thus look, and with this art  
Hid mine own sorrow to relieve his woes:  
When being come, all this proved nought but wind;  
Tears, looks, and sighs, do only tell her mind.   

93  
Thus both stood silent and confused so,  
Their eyes relating how their hearts did morn:  
Both big with sorrow, and both great with woe  
In labour with what was not to be borne:  
This mighty burden, where withal they go,  
Dies undelivered, perishes unborn;  
Sorrow makes silence her best Orator,  
Where words may make it less, not show it more.   

94  
But he, whom longer time had learned the art  
T'endure affliction, as a usual touch,  
Strains forth his words, and throws dismay apart,  
To raise up her; whose passions now were such  
As quite oppressed her overcharged heart  
(Too small a vessel to contain so much)  
And cheers and moans, and feigned hopes doth frame,  
As if himself believed, or hoped the same.   

95  
And now, the while these Princes sorrowed,  
Forward ambition (come so near her end)  
Sleeps not, nor slips th'occasion offered,  
T'accomplish what it did before intend:  
A parliament is forthwith summoned  
In Richard's name; whereby they might pretend  
A form, to grace disorder, and a show  
Of holy right, the right to overthrow.   

96  
Order, how much predominant art thou!  
That if but only thou pretended art;  
How soon, deceived mortality doth bow  
To follow thine, as still the better part!  
'tis thought, that reverent form will not allow  
Iniquity, or sacred right pervart.  
Within our souls, since than thou dwellest so strong;  
How ill do they, that use thee, to do wrong!   

97  
So ill did they, that in this formal course  
Sought to establish a deformed right:  
Who might as well effected it by force;  
But that men hold it wrong, what's wrought by might.  
Offences urged in public are made worse:  
The show of justice aggravates despite.  
" The multitude, that look not to the cause,  
" Rest satisfied, so it seem done by laws.   

98  
And now they diverse articles object  
Of rigour, malice, private favouring,  
Exaction, riot, falsehood, and neglect;  
Crimes done, but seldom answered by Kings:  
Which subjects do lament, but not correct.  
And all these faults, which Lancaster now brings  
Against a King, must be his own, when he,  
By urging others sins, a King shall be.   

99  
For, all that was most odious was devised,  
And published in these articles abroad.  
All th'errors of his youth were here comprised,  
Calamity with obloquy to load:  
And more to make him publicly despised,  
Libels, invectives, railing rhymes, were sowed  
Among the vulgar, to prepare his fall  
With more applause and good consent of all.   

100  
Look how the day-hater, Minerva's bird,  
Whilst privileged with darkness and the night, 
The owl is said to be Minerva's bird.   
Doth live secure to himself, of others feared;  
If but by chance discovered in the light,  
How doth each little fowl (with envy stirred)  
Call him to justice, urge him with despite;  
Summon the feathered flocks of all the wood,  
To come to scorn the tyrant of their blood:   

101  
So fares this King, laid open to disgrace,  
Whilst every mouth full of reproach invayes;  
And every base detractor, in this case,  
Upon th'advantage of misfortune plays:  
Downe-falling greatness, urged on apace,  
Was followed-hard, by all disgraceful ways;  
Now in the point t'accelerate an end,  
Whilst misery had no means to defend.   

102  
Upon those articles in parliament  
So heinous made, enforced, and urged so hard,  
He was adjudged unfit for government,  
And of all regal power and rule debarred:  
For, who durst contradict the Duke's intent?  
Or, if they durst, should patiently be heard?  
Desire of change, old wrongs, new hopes, fresh fear,  
Being far the mayor part, the cause must bear.   

103  
Yet must we think, that some which saw the course  
(The better few, whom passion made not blind)  
Stood careful lookers-on, with sad commorse,  
Amazed to see what headlong rage designed:  
And, in a more considerate discourse  
Of tragical events, thereof divined;  
And would excuse and pity those defects,  
Which, with such hate, the adverse parts objects:   

104  
" Say'ing, better years might work a better care,  
" And time might well have cured what was amiss;  
" Since all these faults fatal to greatness are,  
" And worse deserts have not been punished thus:  
" But yet in this, the heavens, we fear, prepare  
" Confusion for our sins, aswell as his;  
" And his calamity beginneth our:  
" For, he his own, and we abused his power.   

105  
Thus murmured they; when to the king were sent  
Certain who might persuade him to for sake  
And leave his crown, and with his free consent  
A voluntary Resignation make;  
Since that he could no other way prevent  
These dangers which he else must needs partake:  
For, not to yield, to what fear would constrain,  
Would bar the hope of life, that did remain.   

106  
And yet this scarce could work him to consent  
To yield up that so soon, men hold so dear.  
Why, let him take (said he) the government,  
And let me yet the name, the title bear:  
Leave me that show, and I will be content;  
And let them rule and govern without fear.  
What, can they not my shadow now endure,  
When they of all the rest do stand secure?   

107  
Let me hold that, I ask no other good:  
Nay, that I will hold; Henry do thy worst.  
For, ere I yield my crown, I'll lose my blood;  
That blood, that shall make thee and thine accursed.  
Thus resolute a while he firmly stood,  
Till love of life, and fear of being forced,  
Vanquished th'innated valour of his mind;  
And hope, and friends, so wrought, that he resigned.   

108  
Then to the tower (where he remained) went  
The Duke, with all the peers in company,  
To take his offer with his free consent,  
And this his Resignation testify;  
And thereof to inform the parliament,  
That all things might be done more formally,  
And men thereby rest better satisfied;  
As of an act not forced, or falsified.   

109  
And forth he's brought unto th'accomplishment,  
Decked with the crown in princely robes that day;  
Like as the dead, in other lands, are sent  
Unto their graves, in all their best array:  
And even like good, did him this ornament.  
For, what he brought, he must not bear away;  
But buries there his glory and his name,  
Entombed both in his own and others blame.   

110  
And there unto th'assembly of these States,  
His sorrow for their long endured wrong  
Through his abused authority relates,  
Excuses with confessions mixed among:  
And glad he says, to finish all debates,  
He was to leave the Rule they sought-for long;  
Protesting, if it might be for their good,  
He would as gladly sacrifice his blood.   

111  
There, he his subjects all (in general)  
Assoyles and quites of oath and fealty,  
Renounces interest, title, right and all  
That appertained to kingly dignity;  
Subscribes thereto, and doth to witness call  
Both heaven and earth, and God, & Saints on high,  
To testify his act, and doth profess  
To do the same with most free willingness.   

112  
'tis said, with his own hands he gave the crown  
To Lancaster, and wished to God he might  
Have better joy thereof then he had known,  
And that his power might make it his by right:  
And furthermore he craved, of all his own,  
But life, to live apart a private wight;  
The vanity of greatness he had tried,  
And how unsurely stands the foot of pride.   

113  
This brought to pass, the Lords return with speed,  
The parliament hereof to certify;  
Where, they at large published the Kings own deed,  
And form of his resignment verbally:  
And thereupon doth Lancaster proceed  
To make his claim unto the monarchy;  
And shows the right he hath, both by descent,  
And by recovery, to the government.   

114 
The Archbishop of Cant. takes his text out of the first book of the Kings, cap. 9 Vir dominabitur in populo.   
Which being granted, Canterbury rose  
And animates them, by the sacred word,  
" In this their course: and by his Text, he shows  
" How well they made their choice of such a Lord;  
" Who, as a man was able to dispose  
" And guide the State: and how the royal sword  
" Ought to be at a man's commandment;  
" Not at a child's, or one as impotent.   

115  
" Since, when the greatness of his charge exceeds  
" The smallness of his powers, he must collate  
" The same on others: whence, says he, proceeds  
" This ravenous expilation of the State;  
" Whence no man any more the public heeds,  
" Then so much as imports his private state.  
" Our Health is from our head: if that be ill,  
" distempered, faint, and weak, all the rest will.   

116  
" Then to the present, all his speech he draws,  
" And shows what admirable parts abound  
" In this brave Prince; being fit to give them laws,  
" Fit for his valour, fit for judgement sound.  
" And, Lancaster, indeed I would thy cause  
" Had had as lawful and as sure a ground,  
" As had thy virtues, and thy noble heart,  
" ordained, and borne for an Imperial part.   

117  
Then had not that confused succeeding Age  
Our fields engrained with blood, our rivers died  
With purple-streaming wounds of our own rage,  
Nor seen our Princes slaughtered, peers destroyed.  
Then hadst not thou, dear country, come to wage  
War with thyself, nor those afflictions tried  
Of all consuming discord here so long;  
Too mighty now, against thyself too strong.   
The end of the second book.   

THE argument OF THE THIRD book.  

Henry, the fourth, the crown established.  
The Lords, that did to Gloster's death consent,  
Degraded, do rebel, are vanquished.  
King Richard, unto Pomfret Castle sent,  
Is by a cruel Knight there murdered,  
After the Lords had had their punishment.  
His corpse, from thence, to London is conveyed;  
And there, for all to view, is open laid.   

1  
NOw risen is that Head, by which did spring  
The birth of two strong Heads, two crowns, two rights;  
That monstrous shape, that afterward did bring  
Deformed confusion to distracted wights.  
Now is attained that dearly purchased thing  
That filled the world with lamentable sights:  
And now, attained, all care is how to frame  
Means to establish, and to hold the same.   

2  
First, he attends to build a strong conceit  
Of his usurped power, in people's minds;  
And arms his cause with furniture of weight:  
Which easily the sword, and greatness finds.  
Succession, Conquest, and election strait  
Suggested are, and proved in all their kinds.  
More than enough they find, who find their might  
Hath force to make all, that they will have, Right.   

3  
Though one of these might very well suffice  
His present approbation to procure.  
" But who his own cause makes, doth still devise  
" To make too much, to have it more than sure.  
" fear casts too deep, and ever is too wise:  
" No usual plots, the doubtful can secure.  
And all these disagreeing claims he had,  
With hope to make one good of many bad.   

4  
Like unto him that fears, and feign would stop  
An inundation working-on apace,  
Runs to the Breach, heaps mighty matter up,  
Throws indigested burdens on the place,  
Loads with huge weights, the outside, & the top,  
But leaves the inner parts in feeble case;  
Whilst th'undersearching water, working-on,  
Bears (proudly) down, all that was idly done:   

5  
So fares it with our indirect designs,  
And wrong contrived labours, at the last;  
Whilst working Time, and justice undermines  
The feeble frame, held to be wrought so fast:  
Then when out-breaking vengeance uncombines  
The ill-ioyned plots so fairly overcast;  
Turns up those huge pretended heaps of shows,  
And all these weak illusions overthrows.   

6  
But, after, having made his title plain,  
Unto his Coronation he proceeds:  
Which, in most sumptuous sort (to entertain  
The gazing vulgar, whom this splendour feeds)  
Is stately furnished, with a glorious train:  
Wherein, the former Kings he far exceeds;  
And all t'amuse the world, and turn the thought  
Of what & how 'twas done, to what is wrought.   

7  
And that he might on many props repose,  
He strengths his own, & who his part did take:  
New Officers, new councillors he chose:  
His eldest son, the Prince of Wales doth make;  
His second, Lord high Steward: and, to those  
Had hazarded their fortunes for his sake,  
He gives them charge, as merits their desert;  
And raises them, by crushing th'adverse part.   

8  
So that hereby, the universal face  
Of Court, with all the Offices of State  
Are wholly changed, by death, or by disgrace,  
Upon th'advantage of the people's hate;  
" Who, ever envying those of chiefest place  
" (Whom neither worth nor virtue, but their fate  
" Exalted hath) do, when their Kings do nought  
" (Because it's in their power) judge it their fault.   

9  
And in their steed, such as were popular,  
And well-deserving, were advanced by grace.  
Grave Shirley, he ordains Lord chancellor;  
Both worthy for his virtues, and his race:  
And Norburie he appoints for Treasurer;  
A man, though mean, yet fit to use that place:  
And others, otherother rooms; whom people hold  
So much more loved, how much they loathe the old.   

10  
And it behoves him now to do his best  
T'approve his vow, and oath made to the State:  
And many great disorders he redressed;  
Which always usurpation makes the gate  
To let itself into the people's breast,  
And seeks the public best t'accommodate:  
Wherein, injustice better doth then Right:  
" For, who reproves the lame, must go upright.   

11  
Though it be easy to accuse a State,  
Of imperfection and misgovernment:  
And easy to beget in people hate  
Of present Rule, which cannot all content;  
And few attempt it, that effect it not:  
Yet, t'introduce a better government  
In steed thereof, if we t'example look,  
The under-takers have been overtook.   

12  
Then, against those he strictly doth proceed, 
The nobility accused for the death of Thomas of Woodstock D. of Gloster.   
Who chief of Gloster's death were guilty thought;  
Not so much for the hatred of that deed:  
But, under this pretext the means he sought  
To ruin such whose might did much exceed  
His power to wrong, nor else could well be wrought.  
Law, justice, blood, the zeal unto the dead,  
Were on his side, and his drift coloured. 
The Dukes of Surry Excester, and Aumarle, The Earls of Salisbury and Gloucester, the Bishop of Carlisle, Sir Thomas Blunt, and other, were the parties accused, for the death of the D. of Gloster.    

13  
Here, many of the greatest of the Land  
Accused were of the act, strong proofs brought out;  
Which strongly were refelled: the Lords all stand,  
To clear their Cause, most resolutely stout:  
The King, perceiving what he took in hand  
Was not with safety to be brought-about,  
Desists to urge their death, in any wise;  
Respecting number, strength, friends, and allies.   

14  
Nor was it time now, in his tender reign,  
And infant-young-beginning government,  
To strive, with blood; when lenity must gain  
The mighty men, and please the discontent.  
" New Kings do fear; when old Courts farther strain:  
Established States to all things will consent.  
He must dispense with his will, and their crime,  
And seek t'oppress and wear them out with time.   

15  
Yet not to seem, but to have some thing done,  
In what he could, not as he would effect;  
To satisfy the people (that begun,  
revenge of wrong and justice to expect)  
He caused be put to execution, one,  
Who to perform this murder was elect;  
A base companion, few, or none would miss:  
Who first did serve their turn; and now serves his.   

16  
And, to abase the too high state of those  
That were accused, and lessen their degrees,  
Aumarle, Surry, Exeter, must lose  
The names of Dukes, their titles, dignities,  
And whatsoever profits thereby rise;  
The Earls, their titles and their Signories:  
And all they got in th'end of Richard's reign,  
Since Gloster's death, they must restore again;   

17  
By this, as if by ostracism, t'abate  
That great presumptive wealth, whereon they stand.  
For, first, hereby impov'rishing their state,  
He kills the means they might have to withstand:  
Then equals them with other whom they hate,  
Who (by their spoils) are raised to high command;  
That weak, and envied, if they should conspire,  
They wrack themselves, and he hath his desire.   

18  
Yet, by this grace (which must be held a grace;  
As both they, and the world, are made believe)  
He thinks t'have dealt benignly in this case,  
And left them state enough, to let them live;  
And that the taking, from them, means & place,  
Was nothing, in respect what he did give:  
But they, that know how their own reckoning goes,  
Account not what they have, but what they lose.   

19  
The parliament, which now is held, decreed  
Whatever pleased the King but to propound;  
Confirmed the crown, to him, and to his seed,  
And by their oath their due obedience bound:  
Which was the power that stood him best in steed,  
And made whatever broken courses sound.  
For, what he got by fortune, favour, might,  
It was the State that now must make his right.   

20  
Here was agreed, to make all more secure,  
That Richard should remain, for evermore,  
Close-prisoner; lest the realm might chance endure  
Some new revolt, or any fresh uproar:  
And, that if any should such broil procure,  
By him, or for him, he should die therefore.  
So that a talk of tumult, and a breath,  
Would serve him as his passing-bell to death.   

21  
Yet, reverent Carlisle, thou didst there oppose  
Thy holy voice, to save thy Prince's blood;  
And freely checktst this judgement, and his foes:  
When all were bad, yet thou dar'dst to be good.  
Be it enrolled (that time may never lose  
The memory) how firm thy courage stood;  
When power, disgrace, nor death, could aught divert  
Thy glorious tongue, thus, to reveal thy heart.   

22  
" grave, reverent Lords, since that this sacred place  
" Our Auentine-Retire, our holy hill  
" (This place, soul of our State, the realms best grace)  
" Doth privilege me speak what reason will:  
" Let me but say my conscience in this case;  
" lest sin of silence show my heart was ill:  
" And let these walls witness, if you will not,  
" I do discharge my soul, of this foul blot.   

23  
" never shall this poor breath of mine consent,  
" That he that two and twenty years hath reigned  
" As lawful Lord, and King by just descent,  
" Should here be judged, unheard, and unarraignd;  
" By subjects too (judges incompetent  
" To judge their King unlawfully detained)  
" And unbrought-foorth to plead his guiltless Cause;  
" Barring the anointed, liberty of laws.   

24  
" have you not done enough, with what is done?  
" Must needs disorder grow, from bad, to worse?  
" Can never mischief end as it begun,  
" But being once out, must farther out, of force?  
" think you, that any means, under the sun,  
" Can assecure so indirect a course?  
" Or any broken cunning build so strong,  
" As can hold out the hand of vengeance long?   

25  
Stopped, there, was his too vehement speech with speed,  
And he sent close to ward, from where he stood;  
His zeal untimely, deemed too much t'exceed  
The measure of his wit, and did no good.  
They resolute, for all this, do proceed  
Unto that judgement could not be withstood:  
The King had all he craved, or could compel:  
And all was done; let others judge, how well.   

26  
Now Muse relate a woeful accident,  
And tell the bloodshed of these mighty peers,  
Who (lately reconciled) rest discontent,  
Grieved with disgrace, remaining in their fears:  
However seeming outwardly content;  
Yet th' inward touch, that wounded honour bears,  
Rests closely rankling, and can find no ease,  
Till death of one side cure this great disease.   

27  
Means how to feel, and learn each others heart,  
By th' abbot's skill of Westminster is found:  
Who, secretly disliking Henries part,  
Invites these Lords, and those he meant to sound;  
Feasts them with cost, and draws them on with art;  
And dark, and doubtful questions doth propound:  
Then plainer speaks; and yet uncertain speaks:  
Then wishes well; then off abruptly breaks.   

28  
My Lords, saith he, I fear we shall not find  
This long-desired King, such as was thought:  
But yet, he may do well: God turn his mind:  
'tis yet new days: but, Ill bodes new and nought:  
Some yet speed well: though all men of my kind  
Have cause to doubt; his speech is not forgot,  
That Princes had too little, we too much.  
God give him grace: but, 'tis ill trusting such.   

29  
This open-close, apparent-darke discourse  
Drew-on much speech: and every man replies:  
And every man adds heat: and words enforce  
And urge out words. For, when one man espies  
Another's mind like his, then ill breeds worse;  
And out breaks all in th'end what closest lies.  
For, when men well have fed, th'blood being warm,  
Then are they most improvident of harm.   

30  
Bewray they did their inward boiling spite;  
Each stirring other to revenge their cause.  
One says he never should endure the sight  
Of that forsworn, that wrongs both Land and laws,  
Another vows the same; of his mind, right.  
A third t'a point more near the matter draws;  
Swears, if they would, he would attempt the thing,  
To chase th' usurper, and replace their King.   

31  
Thus one by one, kindling each others fire,  
Till all inflamed, they all in one agree:  
All resolute to prosecute their ire,  
Seeking their own, and country's cause to free;  
And have his first, that their blood did conspire.  
For, no way else, they said, but this, could be  
Their wrong-detained honour to redeem:  
Which, truebred blood should, more than life, esteem.   

32  
And let not this our new-made faithless Lord, 
Thom. late Duke of Surry.   
Saith Surry, think, that we are left so bare  
(Though bare enough) but we will find a sword  
To kill him with, when he shall not beware.  
For, he that is with life and will instored,  
Hath, for revenge, enough, and needs not care:  
For, time brings means to furnish him withal:  
Let him but wait occasions as they fall.   

33  
Then, of the manner how t'effect the thing,  
Consulted was: and in the end agreed,  
That at a mask, and common reveling,  
Which was ordained, they should perform the deed;  
For, that would be least doubted of the King,  
And fittest for their safety to proceed:  
The night, their number, and the sudden act,  
Would dash all order, and protect their fact.   

34  
Besides, they might under the fair pretence  
Of Tilts and Turnements, which they intent,  
Provide them horse, and armour for defence,  
And all things else convenient for their end:  
Besides, they might hold sure intelligence  
Among themselves, without suspect t'offend:  
The King would think, they sought but grace in Court,  
With all their great preparing in this sort.   

35  
A solemn oath religiously they take,  
By intermutuall vows protesting there,  
This never to reveal; nor to forsake  
So good a Cause, for danger, hope, or fear:  
The Sacrament, the pledge of faith, they take:  
And every man upon his sword doth swear,  
By Knighthood, honour, or what else should bind;  
To assecure, the more, each others mind.   

36  
And when all this was done, and thought well done,  
And every one assures him good success,  
And easy seems the thing to every one  
That nought could cross their plot, or them suppress:  
Yet one among the rest (whose mind not won  
With th'overweening thought of hot excess,  
Nor headlong carried with the stream of will,  
Nor by his own election led to ill)   

37  
judicious Blunt (whose learning, valour, wit, 
Sir Thom. Blunt.   
Had taught true knowledge in the course of things;  
Knew dangers as they were, and th'humorous fit  
Of ware-less, what end it brings)  
Counsels their heat, with calm grave words, and fit  
(Words well forethought, that from experience springs)  
And warns a warier carriage in the thing;  
Lest blind presumption work their ruining.   

38  
" My Lords, saith he, I know your wisdoms such,  
" As that of mine advice you have no need:  
" I know, you know how much the thing doth touch  
" The main of all your states, your blood, your seed:  
" Yet, since the same concerns my life, as much  
" As his whose hand is chiefest in this deed,  
" And that my foot must go as far, as his;  
" I think, my tongue may speak what needful is,   

39  
" The thing we enterprise, I know, doth bear  
" Great possibility of good effect;  
" forthat so many men of might there are  
" That venture here this action to direct:  
" Which meaner wights, of trust and credit bare,  
" Not so respected, could not look t'effect.  
" For, none, without great hopes, will follow such  
" Whose power, and honour doth not promise much.   

40  
" Besides, this new, and doubtful government,  
" The wavering faith of people vain, and light,  
" The secret hopes of many discontent,  
" The natural affection to the right,  
" Our lawful sovereign's life, in prison penned,  
" Whom men begin to pity now, not spite,  
" Our well laid plot, and all, I must confess,  
" With our just cause, doth promise good success.   

41  
" But this is yet the outward fairest side  
" Of our design: within, rests more of fear,  
" moore dread of sad event yet undescried,  
" than (my most worthy Lords) I would there were:  
" But yet, I speak not this as to divide  
" Your thoughts from th'act, or to dismay your cheer;  
" only to add, unto your forward will,  
" A moderate fear, to cast the worst of ill.   

42  
" Danger, before, and in, and after th'act,  
" You needs must grant, is great, and to be weighed.  
" Before; lest, while we do the deed protract,  
" It be by any of ourselves bewrayed:  
" For, many being privy to the fact,  
" How hard it is to keep it unbetraid?  
" When the betrayer shall have life and grace,  
" And rid himself of danger and disgrace.   

43  
" For, though some few continue resolute,  
" Yet many shrink, which at the first would dare,  
" And be the foremost men to execute,  
" If th'act, and motion at one instant were:  
" But, intermission suffers men dispute  
" What dangers are, and cast with farther care:  
" Cold doubt cavils with honour, scorneth fame:  
" And in the end, fear weighs down faith, with shame.   

44  
" Then in the act, what perils shall we find,  
" If either place, or time, or other course,  
" Cause us to alter th'order now assigned?  
" Or that, than we expect, things happen worse?  
" If either error, or a fainting mind,  
" An indiscreet amazement, or remorse,  
" In any at that instant should be found;  
" How much it might the act, and all confound?   

45  
" After the deed, the dangers are no less;  
" Lest that, our forwardness not seconded  
" By our own followers, and accomplices  
" (Being kept back, or slow, or hindered)  
" The hasty multitude rush-on, t'oppress  
" Confused weakness, there unsuccored;  
" Or raise another head, of that same race,  
" T'avenge his death, and prosecute the case.   

46  
" All this (my Lords) must be considered  
" (The best and worst of that which may succeed)  
" That valour mixt with fear, boldness with dread,  
" May march more circumspect, with better heed.  
" And, To prevent these mischiefs mentioned,  
" Is, by our faith, our secrecy, and speed.  
" For, even already is the work begun:  
" And we rest all undone, till all be done.   

47  
" And though I could have wished another course,  
" In open field t'have hazarded my blood;  
" Yet some are here, whose love is of that force  
" To draw my life, whom zeal hath not withstood:  
" But, like you not of your design the worse.  
" If the success be good, your course is good:  
" And ending well, our honour then gins.  
" No hand of strife is pure, but that which wins.   

48  
This said, a sad still silence held their minds,  
Upon the fearful project of their woe;  
But that, not long, ere forward fury finds  
Encouraging persuasions on to go.  
We must (said they) we will, our honour binds,  
Our safety bids, our faith must have it so:  
We know the worst can come, 'tis thought upon:  
We cannot shift; being in, we must go on.   

49  
And on in deed they went; but (o!) not far:  
A fatal stop traversed their headlong course;  
Their drift comes known, and they discovered are:  
For, some of many will be false, of force.  
Aumarle became the man, that all did mar,  
Whether through indiscretion, chance, or worse:  
He makes his peace, with offering others blood;  
And shows the King, how all the matter stood.   

50  
Then lo, dismayed, confusion all possessed  
Th'afflicted troop, hearing their plot descried.  
Then runs amazed distress, with sad unrest,  
To this, to that, to fly, to stand, to hide:  
Distracted terror knew not what was best;  
On what determination to abide.  
At last, despair would yet stand to the Sword,  
To try what friends would do, or fate afford.   

51  
Then this, than that man's aid, they crave, implore;  
Post here for help, seek there their followers;  
Conjure their friends they had, labour for more,  
Solicit all reputed favourers,  
Who Richard's cause seemed to affect before:  
And, in his name, writ, pray, send messengers;  
To try what faith was left, if by this art  
Any would step to take Afflictions part.   

52  
And some were found; and some again draw back:  
Uncertain power could not itself retain:  
Entreat they may; authority they lack:  
And here, and there they march (but, all in vain)  
With desperate course; like those that see their wrack  
Even on the rocks of death, and yet they strain  
That death may not them idly find t'attend  
Their certain last, but work to meet their end.   

53  
And long they stand not, ere the chief, surprised,  
Conclude with their dear blood their tragedy:  
And all the rest, dispersed, run some disguised  
To unknown coasts; some to the shores do fly;  
Some to the woods, or whither fear advised:  
But running from, all to destruction high.  
The breach once made upon a battered state,  
Down goes distress; no shelter shrouds their fate.   

54  
And now what horror in their souls doth grow!  
What sorrows, with their friends, and near allies!  
What mourning in their ruin'd houses now!  
How many children's plaints, and mother's cries!  
How many woeful widows left to bow  
To sad disgrace! what perished families!  
What heirs of high rich hopes, their thoughts must frame  
To base-downe-looking poverty and shame!   

55  
This slaughter and calamity fore-goes  
Thy eminent destruction, woeful King.  
This is the bloody Comet of thy woes,  
That doth foretell thy present ruining.  
Here was thy end decreed, when these men rose:  
And even with theirs, this act thy death did bring;  
Or hastened, at the least, upon this ground:  
Yet, if not this, another had been found.   

56  
Kings, Lords of times and of occasions, may  
Take their advantage, when, and how they list:  
For, now the realm, he thought in this dismay,  
T' avoid like mischiefs, neither would resist,  
Nor feel the wound at all; since, by this way,  
All future disturbations would desist;  
The root cut off, from whence these tumults rose,  
He should have rest, the commonwealth repose.   

57  
He knew this time: and yet he would not seem  
Too quick to wrath, as if affecting blood;  
But yet complains so far, that men might deem  
He would 'twere done, and that he thought it good:  
And wished that some would so his life esteem,  
As rid him of these fears wherein he stood: 
This Knight was Sir Pierce of The Exton.   
And therewith eyes a Knight, that then was by;  
Who soon could learn his lesson, by his eye.   

58  
The man, he knew, was one that willingly  
For one good look would hazard soul and all;  
An instrument for any villainy,  
That needed no commission more at all:  
A great ease to the King, that should, hereby,  
Not need in this a course of justice call,  
Nor seem to will the act: for, though what's wrought  
Were his own deed, he grieves should so be thought.   

59  
" So foul a thing (ô!) thou injustice art,  
" That tort'rest both the doer and distressed.  
" For, when a man hath done a wicked part,  
" How doth he strive t'excuse to make the best,  
" To shift the fault, to unburden his charged heart,  
" And glad to find the least surmise of rest!  
" And if he could make his, seem others sin;  
" What great repose, what ease he finds therein!   

60  
This Knight; but yet, why should I call him Knight,  
To give impiety this reverent style?  
Title of honour, worth, and virtues right,  
Should not be given to a wretch so vile:  
But pardon me, if I do not aright:  
It is because I will not here defile  
My unstained verse, with his opprobrious name,  
And grace him so, to place him in the same.   

61  
This caitiff goes, and with him takes eight more  
As desperate as himself, impiously bold  
(Such villains, as he knew would not abhor  
To execute what wicked act he would)  
And hastes him down to Pomfret; where, before,  
The restless King, conveyed, was laid in hold:  
There would he do the deed, he thought should bring  
To him great grace and favour, with his King.   

62  
Whether the soul receives intelligence,  
By her near Genius, of the body's end,  
And so imparts a sadness to the sense  
Foregoing ruin, whereto it doth tend:  
Or whether Nature else hath conference  
With profound sleep, and so doth warning send  
By prophetizing dreams, what hurt is near,  
And gives the heavy careful heart to fear:   

63  
However, so it is, the now sad King  
(tossed here and there, his quiet to confound)  
Feels a strange weight of sorrows, gathering  
Upon his trembling heart, and sees no ground;  
Feels sudden terror bring cold shivering;  
Lists not to eat, still muses, sleeps unsound,  
His senses droop, his steady eyes unquicke,  
And much he ails; and yet he is not sick.   

64  
The morning of that day, which was his last,  
After a weary rest rising to pain,  
Out at a little grate his eyes he cast  
Upon those bordering hills, and open plain,  
And views the town, and sees how people past:  
Where others liberty, makes him complain  
The more his own, and grieves his soul the more;  
Conferring captive-crownes, with freedom poor.   

65  
" O happy man, saith he, that lo I see  
" Grazing his cattle in those pleasant fields!  
" If he but knew his good (how blessed he,  
" That feels not what affliction greatness yields!)  
" Other then what he is, he would not be,  
" Nor change his state with him that sceptres wields:  
" Thine, thine is that true life; That is to live,  
" To rest secure, and not rise up to grieve.   

66  
" Thou sit'st, at home, safe, by thy quiet fire,  
" And hearest of others harms; but feelest none:  
" And there thou tellest of Kings, and who aspire,  
" Who fall, who rise, who triumphs, who do moon:  
" Perhaps thou talk'st of me, and dost inquire  
" Of my restraint, why here I live alone,  
" And pitiest this my miserable fall:  
" For, pity must have part; envy, not all.   

67  
" Thrice happy you that look, as from the shore,  
" And have no venture in the wrack you see;  
" No interest, no occasion to deplore  
" Other men's travails, while yourselves sit free.  
" How much doth your sweet rest make us the more  
" To see our misery, and what we be!  
" Whose blinded greatness, ever in turmoil,  
" Still seeking happy life, makes life a toil.   

68  
" Great Dioclesian (and more great therefore 
Primus imperium communicavit, & posuit Dioclesianus: & in eo ponendo, dixisse fertur; Recipe Jupiter imperium, quod mihi commodasti.   
" For yeelding-up that whereto pride aspires)  
" reckoning thy Gardens in Illiria more  
" than all the Empire, all what th'earth admires;  
" Thou well didst teach, that he is never poor  
" That little hath, but he that much desires;  
" Finding more true delight in that small ground,  
" Then, in possessing all the earth, was found.   

69  
" Are Kings that freedom give, themselves not free,  
" As meaner men, to take what they may give?  
" What, are they of so fatal a degree,  
" That they cannot descend from that, and live?  
" unless they still be Kings can they not be,  
" Nor may they their authority survive?  
" Will not my yielded crown redeem my breath?  
" Still am I feared? is there no way, but death?   

70  
Scarce this word, Death, from sorrow did proceed,  
When in rushed one, and tells him, such a knight  
Is new arrived, and comes from Court in speed.  
What news said he, with him, that traitorous wight?  
What, more removing yet? alas! what need?  
Are we not far enough sent out of sight?  
Or is this place, here, not sufficient strong  
To guard us in? or must we have more wrong?   

71  
By this, the bloody troup were at the door;  
whenas a sudden and a strange dismay  
enforced them strain, who should go in before:  
One offers, and in offering makes a stay:  
An other forward sets, and doth no more:  
A third the like, and none durst make the way:  
So much the horror of so vile a deed,  
In vilest minds, deters them to proceed.   

72  
At length, as to some great adventurous fight,  
This bravo cheers these dastards, all he can;  
And valiantly their courage doth incite,  
And all against one weak unarmed man:  
A great exploit, and fit for such a knight;  
Wherein, so much renown his valour won.  
But see, how men that very Presence fear,  
Which once, they knew, Authority did bear,   

73  
Then, on thrusts one, and he would foremost be  
To shed another's blood; but lost his own:  
For, entering in, as soon as he did see  
The face of majesty, to him well known;  
Like Marius' soldier at Minternum, he  
Stood still amazed, his courage overthrown.  
The King, seeing this, starting from where he sat,  
Out from his trembling hand his weapon gate.   

74  
Thus, even his foes, who came to bring him death,  
Bring him a weapon, that before had none;  
That yet he might not idly lose his breath,  
But die revenged, in action, not alone.  
And this good chance, that thus much favoureth,  
He slacks not: for, he presently speeds one:  
And, Lion-like, upon the rest he flies:  
And here falls one; and there another lies.   

75  
And up and down he traverses his ground;  
Now wards a felling blow, now strikes again,  
Then nimbly shifts a thrust, then lends a wound,  
Now back he gives, then rushes-on amain.  
His quick and ready hand doth so confound  
These shameful beasts, that four of them lie slain:  
And all had perished happily and well,  
But for one act, that (o!) I grieve to tell.   

76  
This coward Knight, seeing with shame and fear  
His men thus slain, and doubting his own end,  
Leaps up into a chair that (lo) was there,  
The-whiles the King did all his courage bend  
Against those four, which now before him were,  
Doubting not who behind him doth attend;  
And plies his hands undaunted, unaffeard,  
And with good heart, and life for life he stirred.   

77  
And whiles he this, and that, and each man's blow  
Doth eye, defend, and shift, being layd-to sore,  
Backward he bears for more advantage now,  
Thinking the wall would safeguard him the more;  
When, lo, with impious hand, o wicked thou,  
That shameful durst not come to strike before,  
Behind him gav'st that lamentable wound,  
Which laid that wretched Prince flat on the ground.   

78  
Now, proditorious wretch, what hast thou done,  
To make this barbarous base assassinate  
Upon the person of a Prince, and one  
Fore-spent with sorrow, and all desolate?  
What great advancement hast thou hereby won,  
By being the instrument to perpetrate  
So foul a deed? where is thy grace in Corte,  
For such a service, acted in this sort?   

79  
First, he for whom thou dost this villainy  
(Though pleased therewith) will not avouch thy fact,  
But let the weight of thine own infamy  
Fall on thee, unsupported, and unbackt:  
Then, all men else will loathe thy treachery,  
And thou thyself abhor thy proper act:  
" So th' wolf, in hope the lions grace to win  
" Betraying other beasts, lost his own skin.   

80  
But now, as this sweet Prince distended lay,  
And him nor Life, nor Death, their own could call,  
(For, Life, removing, rid not all away;  
And Death, though entering, had not seized on all)  
That short-tymed motion had a little stay  
(The mover ceasing) though it were but small:  
(As th' Organ-sound, a time, survives the stop,  
Before it doth the dying note give up)   

81  
When, lo, there streams a spring of blood so fast,  
From those deep wounds, as all imbrued the face  
Of that accursed caitiff, as he passed  
(After the deed effected) through the place:  
And therewithal those dying eyes did cast  
Such an upbraiding look on his disgrace  
(Seeming to check so cowardly a part)  
As left th'impression even in his heart.   

82  
And this one King, most near in blood allied,  
Is made th'oblation for the others peace. 
The corpse was conveyed from Pomfret to London: where it lay with open face in Paul's, 3 days; and after a solemn obsequy, was had to Langley and there meanly interred.   
Which peace yet was not hereby ratified  
So, as it could all future fears release.  
For, though the other did forthwith provide  
To have the rumour run of his decease,  
By drawing the corpse to London, where it was  
Laid (three days to be seen) with open face:   

83  
Yet, so great was this execrable deed,  
As men would scarce therein believe their eyes;  
Much less their ears: and many sought to feed 
K. Ric. bruited to be alive after he was thus murdered: which begot a conspiracy; for the which, Sir Roger Clarindon, supposed to be the base son of the black Prince was executed, with divers friars.   
The easy creditors of novelties,  
By voicing him alive; how he was freed  
By strange escape out of his miseries:  
And many did conspire now to relieve  
Him dead, who had forsaken him alive.   

84  
And many suffered: for his Cause, when now  
He had none: many wished for him again,  
When they perceived th'exchange did not allow  
Their hopes so much as they did look to gain,  
By trafficking of kings; and all saw how  
Their full expectances were in the wane.  
They had a King was more than him before;  
But yet a king, where they were nought the more.   

85  
And sure, this murdered Prince, though weak he was,  
He was not ill; not yet so weak, but that  
He show'd much martial valour in his place,  
Adventuring oft his person for the State:  
And might amongst our better Princes pass;  
Had not the flattery, rapine, and debate  
Of factious Lords and greedy Officers  
disgraced his actions, and abused his years.   

86  
Nor is it so much Prince's weaknesses,  
As the corruption of their Ministers,  
Whereby the commonwealth receives distress.  
For, they, attending their particulars,  
Make imperfections their advantages  
To be themselves both Kings and councillors.  
And, sure, this commonwealth can never take  
Hurt by weak kings, but such as we do make.   

87  
Besides, he was (which people much respect  
In Princes, and which pleases vulgarly)  
Of goodly parsonage, and of sweet aspect,  
Of mild access, and liberality; 
He had in his court 1000 persons in ordinary allowance of diet, 300. servitors in his kitchen, above 300. Lady's Chamberers, and launderers: His apparel was sumptuous; and so was it generally, in his time: he had one coat of gold and stone, valued of 30000. marks. One interview with the Fr. King at Ards, when his wife Isabel was delivered unto him, cost 300000. marks.   
And feasts, and shows, and triumphs did affect,  
As the delights of youth and jollity:  
But, here, the great profusion and expense  
Of his revenues, bred him much offence:   

88  
And gave advantage unto enmity,  
This grievous accusation to prefer;  
" That he consumed the common treasury:  
" Whereof he being the simple usager  
" But for the State (not in propriety)  
" Did alien at his pleasure, and transfer  
" The same this his minions, and to whom he list;  
" By which, the commonwealth was to subsist.   

89  
" Whereby, said they, the poor concussed State 
Hen. 4. revoketh all letters patents of Annuities granted by K. Ed. and K. Ric. Ann. reg. 6.   
" Shall ever be exacted for supplies.  
" Which accusation was th'occasion, that  
" His successor by order nullifies  
" Many his Patents, and did revocate 
When he was first surprised in Wales, the D. of Lancaster had in Holt Castle 100000. marks in coin, and 200000, marks in jewels: and at his Resignation in the tower, 300000 poūds in coin, besides plate and jewels.   
" And reassume his liberalities:  
" And yet, for all these wastes, these gifts and feasts,  
" He was not found a Bankrupt in his chests.   

90  
But they, who took to Syndicque in this sort  
The Actions of a Monarch, knew those things  
Wherein the accounts were likely to fall short  
Between the State of kingdoms, and their Kings:  
Which precedent, of pestilent import  
(Had not the heavens blest thy indevouring)  
Against thee Henry, had been likewise brought,  
Th'example made of thy example wrought.   

91  
For, though this bounty, and this liberalness, 
A Prince, excessive in gifts, makes his subjects excessive in suits.   
A glorious virtue be; it better fits  
Great men, than kings: who, giving in excess,  
Give not their own, but others benefits:  
Which calles-up manies hopes, but pleasures less;  
destroyd far more love, than it begets.  
For, justice is their Virtue: that alone  
Makes them sit sure, and glorifies the Throne.   
The end of the third book.   

THE fourth book.  
THE argument.  

King Henry, his excuses publishes  
For Richard's death; and truce doth entertain  
With France. The Scots, aggrieved for wrongs, address  
Themselves to war; and are appeased again.  
The Welsh rebel. The Percies practices  
(To part the State) are stopped, in battle slain.  
Continual troubles still afflict this King;  
Till Death an end doth to his travails bring.   

1  
THe bounds once over-gone, that hold men in,  
They never stay; but on, from bad to worse.  
" Wrongs do not leave off there, where they begin;  
" But, still beget new mischiefs in their course.  
Now, Henry, thou hast added to thy sin  
Of usurpation, and intruding force,  
A greater crime; which makes that gone before  
T'appear more than it did, and noted more.   

2  
For, now thou artinforced enforced it apologise 
Commissioners be sent to foreign Princes, to excuse & justify the King's proceed.   
With foreign States, for two enormous things,  
Wherein, thou dost appear to scandalize  
The public Right, and common Cause of Kings:  
Which, though (with all the skill thou canst devise)  
Thou ouerlay'st with fairest colour;  
Yet th' under-worke, transparent, shows too plain.  
" Where open acts accuse, th' excuse is vain.   

3  
And these defences, are but compliments,  
To dally with confining Potentates;  
Who, busied in their proper governments,  
Do seldom tend th' affairs of other States:  
Their wisdom, which to present power consents,  
Live-dogges before dead lions, estimates:  
" And no man more respects these public wrongs,  
" Then so much as t'his private state belongs.   

4  
Yet, most it seemed the French King to import;  
As sharer in his daughter's injury:  
" Though blood, in Princes, links not in such sort,  
" As that it is of any power to tie,  
Where their estates may seem t'adventure hurt;  
Or where there is not a necessity,  
That doth combine them with a stronger chain,  
Then all these great Alliances contain.   

5  
For, though this King might have resentiment,  
And will, t'avenge him of this injury: 
In this time of Charles 6. began the civil wars in France, between the Dukes of Orleans, and Burgoigne.   
Yet, at that time, his State being turbulent,  
Factious, and full of partiality,  
And oftentimes he himself impotent,  
By means of his Phreneticque malady;  
It was not likely, any good could rise  
By undertaking such an enterprise.   

6  
And therefore both sides, upon intercourse 
The Truce made with R'c. 2. renewed for 30, years: but broken the next year after, upon their part; sending jaques de Bourbon, with forces into Wales, to the aid of Glendour.   
(As fitted best their present terms) agreed,  
The former truce continue should in force,  
According as it had been fore-decreed  
Upon the match with Richard; and a course  
For Isabel (with all convenient speed)  
Provided, with an honourable train  
Suiting her state, to be sent home again.   

7  
Whom willingly they would have still retained, 
The King labours to have Q. Isabel matched to his son Henry, Prince of Wales.   
And matched unto the Prince: but she (though young;  
Yet sensible of that which appertained  
To honour, and renown) scorned any tongue  
That offered such a motion; and disdained  
To have it thought, she would but hear that wrong  
Moved to her, of her Lord, and husband dead,  
To have his murderers race enjoy his bed.   

8  
Besides; the French (doubting the government,  
Thus gotten, would be subject still to strife)  
Not willing were to urge her to consent 
queen Isabel was married to Charles, son to Loyse D. of Orleans.   
T'accept a troublous, and uncertain life:  
And, being returned, she grew in th' end content  
To be (at home) a Duke of Orleans wife;  
'Scaped from such storms of power, holding it best  
To be below herself, to be at rest.   

9  
And so hath Henry assecured that side, 
Thom. Percy E. of Worcester was sent into Gascony with 200. men at arms and 400. Archers, to assist Sir Robert knoles Lieutenant there: where he pacified that Country, being incensed by the French to revolt upon their discontent for the death of King Ric. whom they especially loved for being borne at Bordeaux.   
And therewithal all his State of Gasconie:  
Which, on th'intelligence was notified  
Of Richard's death, were wrought to mutiny;  
And hardly came to be repacified,  
And kept to hold in their fidelity:  
So much, to him were they affectioned,  
For having been amongst them borne and bred.   

10  
These toils abroad, these tumults with his own  
(As if the frame of all disjointed were,  
With this disordered shifting of the crown)  
Fell, in the revolution of one year.  
Beside; the Scotte (in discontentment grown,  
For the detaining, and supporting here, 
George Dunbar, E. of March, flying out of Scotland, was received and cherished in England, and warred against his Country.   
The scourge of all that kingdom, George Dunbar)  
With fire and sword, proclaims an open war;   

11  
Taking their time, in these disturbances  
And newness of a wavering government,  
T' avenge them of their former grievances,  
And by our spoils their fortunes to augment.  
Against whose forces, Henry furnishes  
A powerful Army, and in person went;  
But wars with a retiring enemy,  
With much more travail than with victory.   

12  
And, being (by sharp, deformed winter's force) 
Owen Glendour, an Esquire in North-Wales, contesting with the L. Grace of Ruthen, for certain lands which he claimed by inheritance; and being not powerful enough by his own means to recover them, procured force and made war upon the L. Grace; and after attempts for the principality of that country.   
Caused to retire, he finds new storms at home,  
From other Coasts arising; that proved worse  
Than those, which now he was returned from.  
In Wales, a Cause of Law, by violent course,  
Was (from a variance) now a war become;  
And Owen Glendour, who with Grace of late  
Contests for private lands, now seeks a State.   

13  
Whom to repress, he early in the Spring,  
With all provisions fit, doth forward set;  
When strait his enemies (not purposing 
Ann. Reg. 2.   
To hazard battle) to the mountains get.  
Where, after long and weary travailing,  
Without performing any great defeat,  
He only their provisions wastes, and burns,  
And with some prey of cattle home returns.   

14  
Wherewith, the rebel rather was the more  
Encouraged, then addaunted: and begun  
T'adventure farther than he did before;  
Seeing such a Monarch had so little done,  
Being comen in person, with so great a power,  
And suddenly again retired and gone.  
" For, in this case, they help, who hurt so small;  
" And he hath nothing done, that doth not all.   

15  
But now (behold) other new heads appear,  
New Hidra's of rebellion, that procure 
Ann Reg. 3.   
More work to do, and give more cause of fear;  
And show'd, that nothing in his State stood sure.  
And these, even of his chiefest followers were,  
Of whom he might presume him most secure;  
Who had th' especial engines been, to rear  
His fortunes up, unto the State they were.   

16  
The Percies were the men; men of great might,  
Strong in alliance, and in courage strong:  
Who now conspire; under pretence to right  
Such wrongs, as to the Common wealth belong:  
Urged, either through their conscience, or despite,  
Or finding now the part they took was wrong:  
Or else Ambition hereto did them call, 
In this battle of Homeldon, the L: Hen. Percy, surnamed hotspur, accompanied with George Dunbar E. of March, overthrew the Scottish forces: where were slain 23 Knights and 10000 of the Commons: the E E of Fife, Murry, Angus, with 500 other of meaner degree, token prisoners.   
Or others envied grace; or, rather, all.   

17  
And such they were, who might presume t'have done  
Much for the king, and honour of the State;  
Having the chiefest actions under-gone,  
Both foreign and domestical of late:  
Beside that famous day of Homeldon;  
Where Hotspur gave that wonderful defeat  
Unto the Scots, as shook that kingdom more  
Than many monarch's armies had before.   

18  
Which might perhaps advance their minds, so far  
Above the level of subjection, as  
T'assume to them the glory of that war;  
Where all things, by their power, were brought to pass:  
They, being so mighty, and so popular,  
And their command so spacious as it was,  
Might (in their State) forget, how all these things  
That subjects do effect, must be their Kings.   

19  
And so fell after into discontent,  
Forthat the king required to have, as his,  
Those Lords were taken prisoners; whom they meant  
To hold still as their proper purchases:  
Then, that he would not, at their suit, consent  
To work their cousin Mortimer's release,  
Out of the rebel Owen Glendour's hands;  
Who held him prisoner, in disgraceful bands.   

20  
But be, what will, the cause; strong was their plot,  
Their parties great, means good, the season fit,  
Their practice close, their faith suspected not,  
Their states far off, and they of wary wit:  
Who, with large promises, so woo the Scot  
To aid their Cause, as he consents to it;  
And glad was to disturne that furious stream  
Of war, on us, that else had swallowed them.   

21  
Then join they with the Welsh; who, now well trained,  
In arms and action daily grew more great. 
In the 9 year of the reign of King Richard 2. was by Parlement ordained Roger E. of March heir apparent to the crown.   
Their Leader, by his wiles, had much attained,  
And done much mischief on the English State:  
Beside, his prisoner Mortimer he gained,  
From being a foe, to behis his confederate;  
A man the King much feared: and well he might; 
This Roger was the son of Edmond Mortimer, who married Philippa the only daughter of Leonel D. of Clarence, the third son of King Ed. 3. who by her had issue this Roger & Elizabeth: Roger had issue 4. children, all which, save only Anne, died without issue; arm was married to Rich. E. of Cambridge, second son to Edmond D. of York. This Rich. beheaded at Southampton, had issue by arm, Richard, surnamed Plantagenet, after Duke of York.   
Lest he should look whether his crown stood right.   

22  
For, Richard (for the quiet of the State)  
Before he took those Irish wars in hand,  
About Succession doth deliberate:  
And, finding how the certain Right did stand,  
With full consent this man did ordinate  
The heir apparent to the crown and Land;  
Whose competency was of tender touch:  
Although his might was small, his right was much.   

23  
With these, the Percies them confederate,  
And (as three heads) conjoin in one intent:  
And instituting a triumvirate)  
Do part the Land, in triple government;  
Dividing thus, among themselves, the State:  
The Percies should rule all the North, from Trent;  
And Glendour, Wales; the Earl of March should be  
Lord of the South, from Trent: and so they 'gree.   

24  
Then, those fair baits these Trouble-States still use  
(Pretence of common good, the King's ill Course)  
Must be cast forth, the people to abuse,  
And give their Cause, and them, the better force.  
The king, for tyranny, they do accuse,  
By whom the State was grown from bad to worse;  
A perjured man, who held all faith in scorn:  
Whose trusted oaths had others made forsworn.   

25  
And, there withal, the execrable act, 
The Percies article against Hen. 4. Ann. Reg. 4.   
On their late murdered King, they aggravate:  
How he employed the doers of the fact,  
Whom afterwards he did remunerate:  
And daily such taxations did exact,  
As were against the Order of the State;  
Presuming, those great sums he did impose,  
About his private uses to dispose:   

26  
And how he was environed with such  
As had possessed him; and in slanderous sort  
Accused them so, as they durst not approach  
To clear themselves of such unjust report:  
And, thereupon, they flatly disavouch  
To yield him more obedience, or support:  
And, as t'a perjurd Duke of Lancaster,  
Their cartel of Defiance they prefer;   

27  
Protesting, these objections to make good,  
With sword in hand, and to confirm and seal  
Their undertaking, with their dearest blood,  
As Procurators for the commonweal:  
And that upon their Consciences it stood,  
And did import their duty and their zeal  
Unto the State, as peers to see redressed  
Those miseries wherewith it was oppressed.   

28  
Great seemed their Cause: and greatly, too, did add  
The people's love thereto, these crimes imposed;  
That many gathered to the troops they had,  
And many sent them aid though undisclosed:  
So that, the King, with all main speed, was glad  
Both by his remonstrances well composed,  
And with his sword (his best defence) provide  
To right himself, and to correct their pride:   

29  
Divulging, first, a fair apology  
Of his clear heart, touching the foul report  
Of that assassinate: which utterly  
He doth abjure; protesting, in no sort  
T agree thereto, in will or privity:  
And, how he had been used to extort,  
The State could witness best; by whose consent  
Was granted what he had, in parliament.   

30  
Which never was, but only one supply,  
In four years troublous and expensive reign:  
And that, upon extreme necessity,  
The safety of the public to maintain:  
And that the Percies best could testify,  
How most that money issued was, again;  
To whom the same was rendered, to the end  
To war the Scot, and Borders to defend:   

31  
And that the rest was, to the same effect  
For which it was obtained, in like sort spent.  
And whereas they did slanderously object,  
How that they durst not hazard to present  
In person their defences, in respect  
He was incensed by some malevolent;  
It was most false: for, he knew no defence  
They were to make, till now they made offence.   

32  
And how far, he had been, from cruelty,  
Both Wales, and Scotland could him witness bear;  
Where, those effects of his great clemency,  
In sparing blood, do to his cost appear:  
Much more, his subjects find his lenity;  
Whose love he seeks to have, and not their fear.  
" But thus, said he, they ever do pretend  
" To have received a wrong, who wrong intend.   

33  
Not to give time unto th'increasing rage,  
And gathering fury, forth he Marched with speed;  
Lest more delay, or giving longer age  
To th' evil grown, it might the cure exceed.  
All his best men at arms, and Leaders sage,  
All he prepared he could; and all did need.  
For, to a mighty work thou goest, o King,  
That equal spirits, and equal powers shall bring.   

34  
There shall young Hotspur, with a fury led,  
Ingrapple with thy son, as fierce as he:  
There martial Worster, long experienced  
In foreign arms, shall come t'encounter thee.  
There Dowglas, to thy Stafford, shall make head:  
There Vernon, for thy valiant Blunt, shall be.  
There, shalt thou find a doubtful bloody day;  
Though sickness keep Northumberland away.   

35  
Who yet reserved (though, after, quit for this)  
Another tempest on thy head to raise;  
As if, still, wrong-revenging Nemesis  
Meant to afflict all thy continuing days  
And here this field he happily doth miss,  
For thy great good; and therefore well he stays. 
The K. hastened forward by George Dunbar, was in sight of his enemies lying in camp near to Shrewbury, sooner than he was expected: for the Percies supposed he would have stayed longer than he did, at Burton upon Trent, for the coming of his council with other forces which were there to meet him. Whereupon they left to assail the town of Shrewsbury; and Prepared to encounter the King's forces. Ann. Reg. 4.   
What might his force have done, being brought thereto,  
When that already, gave so much to do?   

36  
The swift approach, and unexpected speed,  
The King had made upon this new-raised force,  
In th' unconfirmed troops, much fear did breed,  
Untimely hindering their intended course:  
Thejoining joining with the Welsh (they had decreed)  
Was hereby dashed; which made their Cause the worse:  
Northumberland, with forces from the North,  
Expected to be there, was not set forth.   

37  
And yet, undaunted Hotspur, seeing the King  
So near arrived; leaving the work in hand,  
With forward speed his forces marshalling,  
Sets forth, his farther coming to withstand:  
And, with a cheerful voice encouraging  
His well experienced and adventurous Band,  
Brings on his Army, eager unto fight;  
And placed the same, before the King in sight.   

38  
" This day (saith he) my valiant trusty friends,  
" whatever it doth give, shall glory give;  
" This day, with honour, frees our State, or ends  
" Our misery with fame, that still shall live:  
" And do but think, how well the same he spends,  
" Who spends his blood, his Country to relieve.  
" What? Have we hands, and shall we servile be?  
" Why were sword made? but, to preserve men free.   

39  
Besides, th'assured hope of victory,  
Which we may even fore-promise on our side,  
Against this weak constrained company;  
Whom force and fear, not will and love doth guide:  
Against a Prince, whose foul impiety  
The heavens do hate, the earth cannot abide:  
Our number being no less, our courage more,  
No doubt we have it, if we work therefore.   

40  
This said, and thus resolved, even bend to charge  
Upon the King; who well their order viewed,  
And wary noted all the course at large  
Of their proceeding, and their multitude: 
The Abbot of Shrew bury and one of the clerks of the privy seal were sent from the K to the Percies to offer them pardon if they would come to any reasonable agreement.   
And deeming better, if he could discharge  
The day with safety, and some peace conclude,  
Great proffers sends of pardon and of grace  
If they would yield, and quietness embrace.   

41  
Which though his fears might drive him to propose, 
Whereupon the E. of Worcester coming to the K. received many kind proffers and promised to move his Nephew therein, did at his return, as is said, conceal them, and hastened on the battle; which was fought near Shrewsbury. An. Reg. 4.   
To time his business, for some other end;  
Yet, sure, he could not mean t'have peace with those,  
Who did in that supreme degree offend:  
Nor were they such, as would be won with shows;  
Or breath of oaths, or vows could apprehend:  
So that in honour, th'offers, he doth make,  
Were not for him to give, nor them to take.   

42  
And yet this much his courses do approve,  
He was not bloody, in his natural;  
And yield he did to more, than might behove  
His dignity, to have dispensed withal:  
And, unto Worster, he himself did move  
A reconcilement to be made of all:  
But Worster, know'ing it could not be secured,  
His nephew's onset (yet for all) procured.   

43  
Which seeing, the King (with greater wrath incensed)  
Rage, against fury, doth with speed prepare.  
And though, said he, I could have well dispensed  
With this days blood, which I have sought to spare;  
That greater glory might have recompensed  
The forward worth of these, that so much dare;  
That we might good have had by th'overthrown,  
And th'wounds we make, might not have been our own:   

44  
Yet, since that other men's iniquity  
Calles-on the sword of wrath, against my will;  
And that themselves exact this cruelty,  
And I constrained am this blood to spill;  
Then on, brave followers, on courageously,  
True-hearted subjects, against traitors ill:  
And spare not them, who seek to spoil us all;  
Whose foul confused end, soon see you shall.   

45  
Forthwith, began these fury-moving sounds,  
The notes of wrath, the music brought from Hell,  
The rattling Drums (which trumpets voice confounds)  
The cries, th'encouragements, the shouting shrill;  
That, all about, the beaten air rebounds  
Confused thundring-murmurs horrible;  
To rob all sense, except the sense to fight.  
Well hands may work: the mind hath lost his sight,   

46  
O war! begot in pride and luxury,  
The child of malice, and revengeful hate;  
Thou impious good, and good impiety,  
That art the foul refiner of a State;  
Vniust-iust scourge of men's iniquity,  
Sharpe-easer of corruptions desperate;  
Is there no means, but that a sin-sick Land  
Must be let blood with such a boisterous hand?   

47  
How well mightst thou have, here, been spared this day,  
Had not wrong-counsaild Percy been perverse?  
Whose forward hand, enured to wounds, makes way  
Upon the sharpest fronts of the most fierce:  
Where now an equal fury thrusts, to stay  
And backe-repell that force, and his disperses:  
Then these assail, than those re-chase again,  
Till stayed with new-made hills of bodies slain.   

48  
There, lo that new-appearing glorious star,  
Wonder of arms, the terror of the field, 
Prince Henry, of this battle, was not 17 years of age   
Young Henry, labouring where the stoutest are,  
And even the stoutest forceth back to yield;  
There is that hand boldened to blood and war,  
That must the sword, in wondtous actions, wield:  
Though better, he had learned with others blood;  
A less expense to us, to him more good.   

49  
Yet here had he not speedy succour lent  
To his endangered father, near oppressed,  
That day had seen the full accomplishment  
Of all his travails, and his final rest:  
For, Mars-like Dowglas all his forces bend  
T'encounter, and to grapple with the best;  
As if disdaining any other thing  
To do, that day, but to subdue a King.   

50  
And three, with fiery courage, he assails;  
Three, all as kings adorned in royal wise:  
And each successive after other quails;  
Still wondering, whence so many Kings should rise.  
And, doubting lest his hand or eyesight fails,  
In these confounded, on a fourth he flies,  
And him unhorses too: whom had he sped,  
He then all Kings, in him, had vanquished.   

51  
For Henry had divided, as it were,  
The person of himself, into four parts;  
To be less known, & yet known every where,  
The more to animate his people's hearts:  
Who, cheered by his presence, would not spare  
To execute their best and worthiest parts.  
By which, two special things effected are;  
His safety, and his subjects better care.   

52  
And never worthy Prince a day did quit  
With greater hazard, and with more renown,  
Then thou didst, mighty Henry, in this fight;  
Which only made thee owner of thine own:  
Thou never proov'dst the Tenure of thy right  
(How thou didst hold thy easie-gotten Crown)  
Till now: and, now, thou show'st thyself chief Lord,  
By that especial right of kings; the Sword.   

53  
And dear it cost, and much good blood is shed  
To purchase thee, a saving victory:  
Great Stafford thy high Constable lies dead, 
Edmond, E of staff, Constable of England.   
With Shorly, Clifton, Gawsell, Caluerly,  
And many more; whose brave deaths witnessed  
Their noble valour and fidelity:  
And many more had left their dearest blood  
Behind, that day, had Hotspur longer stood.   

54  
But he, as Dowglas, with his fury led,  
Rushing into the thickest woods of spears,  
And brakes of sword, still laying at the Head  
(The life of th' Army) whiles he nothing fears,  
Or spares his own, comes all environed  
With multitude of power, that over-beares  
His manly worth: who yields not, in his fall;  
But fight dies, and dying kills withal.   

55  
What ark, what trophy, what magnifence  
Of glory, hotspur, hadst thou purchased here;  
Can but thy Cause, as fair as thy pretence,  
Be made unto thy Country to appear!  
Had it been her protection and defence  
(Not thy ambition) made thee sell so dear  
Thyself this day; she must have here made good  
An everlasting Statue for thy blood.   

56  
Which thus misspent, thy Army presently,  
(As if they could not stand, when thou wert down)  
Dispersed in rout, betook them all to fly:  
And Dowglas, faint with wounds, & overthrown,  
Was taken; who yet won the enemy  
Which took him (by his noble valour shown,  
In that days mighty work) and was preserved  
With all the grace, and honour he deserved.   

57  
Worc'ster (who had escaped unhappily  
His death in battle) on a Scaffold dies, 
Tho. Percy E. of Worcester, with Sir Richard Vernon and the Baron of Kinderton, were taken in the battle and beheaded.   
The next day after, in the company  
Of other chiefest of that enterprise.  
And, so, the tempest of this mutiny  
Became allayed; and those great ieoperdies  
Blowne-over in this sort, the Coasts well cleared,  
But for one threatening cloud, that yet appeared.   

58  
Northumberland (recovered) still out-stands,  
The principal of this great family  
And faction; having Berwick in his hands,  
With other holds; strong by confed'racie  
With Scotland; mighty by his own command:  
And, likely now, his utmost power to try,  
T'avenge him on the ruin of his blood,  
And join with Wales; which yet undaunted stood.   

59  
Which moved the king (who had too much endured  
In this days work, to hazard new again)  
By all the aptest means could be procured  
To lay to draw him in, by any train.  
And writ he did, and vowed, and him assured  
(upon his princely word) to entertain  
With former grace, if he would but submit,  
And come to yield th'obedience that was fit.   

60  
The Earl, being now by this defeat dismayed  
(And fearing his confederates would fail  
With Fortune, and betray, rather than aid,  
Those who are down; being for their own avail)  
Relying on his sovereign's oath obeyed;  
Which, with his tender griefs, did much prevail:  
And in he came, and had no detriment,  
But (for a show) some short imprisonment.   

61  
The parliament, that afterward ensued,  
Restored him t'all his dignities and lands.  
And now none, but the Welsh, seemed to seclude  
The king, from having wholly in his hands  
All peace within: and them he had pursued  
Whiles this brave army, with these ready bands,  
Were yet on foot; could he but have got pay  
To hold them, and his charge of war defray.   

62  
But, that he could not gain, though all the ways  
That might be wrought, he labours to procure  
Means to effect the same. But, those delays,  
And long protraction, which he must endure  
By way of parliament, so much betrays  
The opportunity, that might secure  
His undertaking; as, the occasion, lost,  
Drove both the State, and him, to greater cost.   

63 
The Fr. K. sends aid to Owen Glendour with 140. ships, which landed at Milford haven. An. Reg. 6.   
For, now the rebel, thus forborn, grows strong  
Both in his reputation and success:  
For, having with his power held out so long,  
Many adventure (with more forwardness)  
To yield him aid, and to support his wrong:  
And foreign Princes (in his business  
Whom he solicits) now will lend their hand  
To hold him up; seeing, himself can stand.   

64 
An. Reg. 6. with much ado the laity granted 2 fifteens, upon condition that the L. Furnivall should receive all the money, and see it to be spent in the K. wars.   
And thus he prospers; whiles, the King here spent  
Much time to levy treasure, to maintain  
His charge abroad: which, with that discontent,  
That murmur, those denials, he doth gain,  
As that he finds it even as turbulent  
To war for it, as with it, all his reign; 
The D. of Orleans with an Army of 6000. men entered into Guien, and besieged Vergi, the space of 3, months, & returned without obtaining it.   
Though he had those enforcements of expense,  
Both for offence, retaynements, and defence.   

65  
For, here beside these troubles in the Land,  
His large Dominions, held abroad, require 
An. Reg. 5. The Conte Clerimont, son to the D. of Burbon, with Mon. de la Bret, won divers Castles in Gasconie. The same time the Conte Sa. Paul invadeth the isle of Wight, with 1600. men.   
A plentiful and a prepared hand  
To guard them; where so mighty men aspire  
T'assail, distract and trouble his Command,  
With hopes, with promises, with sword and fire:  
And then as deep imports, his coasts to clear;  
Which, by his neighbours, much infested were   

66  
The Flemings, Britain's, with the French and all, 
of. Reg. 6. The Cont Saint Paul besiegeth the Castle of mark within 3. miles of Calais. The Brittaines under the conduct of the L. of Cassills spoiled and burnt the town of Plymouth.   
Attempt incursions, and work much despite:  
Orleans, for given: and here the Conte, Saint Paul,  
For Calais labours, and the I'll of Wight.  
Wherein, though neither had success at all;  
Yet Clerimont overcame, and won by fight  
Important holds, in Gasconie the-while,  
And did the English much distress and spoil,   

67  
All which require provisions to withstand: 
The K. sends 4000 men to Calais and 3000 to the Seas, under the conduct of his second son Tho. of Lancaster after D. of Clarence.   
And all are succoured with great providence:  
A navy, to secure the Seas, is manned,  
And forces sent to Calais; for defence.  
And wherein other parts defective stand,  
They are supplied, with careful diligence:  
So that his subjects could not, but well know,  
That what they granted, he did sure bestow.   

68  
Nor did he spare himself, nor his; but (bend  
All-wholly unto active worthiness)  
The Prince of Wales unto his province sent;  
Where, he was sure he should not take his ease:  
His second son is, with the Earl of Kent,  
Employed (as governor) to keep the Seas. 
John, after D. of Bedford, sent with Ralph Nevil E. of Westmoreland, into the North.   
A third (though very young) likewise sent forth  
With Westmoreland, attends unto the North.   

69  
Thus were they bred, who after were to be  
Men amongst men: here, with these grave adjoints  
(These learned Masters) they were taught to see  
Themselves, to read the world, and keep their points.  
Thus were they entered in the first degree  
(And Accedence) of action; which acquaints  
Them, with the Rules of Worth and Nobleness:  
Which, in true Concord, they learned well t'express.   

70  
And, whiles heattends the State thus carefully,  
The Earl of Marches children are conveyed  
Out of the tower of Windsor, secretly;  
Being prisoners there, not for their merit, laid;  
But, for their blood; and to the end whereby  
This chain of Nature might be interlayed  
Between the Father and his high intents,  
To hold him back, to save these innocents.   

71  
For which attempt (though it were frustrated  
By their recovery, who were got again) 
The Lady Spencer, sister to Edward D. of York, late wife to Tho. L. Spencer (executed at Bristol, An. Reg. 1.) accused her brother to be the chief author of conveying away the E. of Marches sons out of the tower of Windsor.   
Aumarle (now Duke of York) is challenged,  
By his own sister, to have laid that train;  
Who (late) her Lord, with others ruined,  
In secretly betraying them, t'obtain  
His grace and peace: which yet contents him not.  
For, Who hath grace and peace by treason got?   

72  
So much did love, t'her executed Lord,  
Predominate in this fair Lady's heart,  
As in that region, it would not afford  
Nature a place, to rest in any part  
Of her affections; but that she abhorred  
Her proper blood, and left to do the part  
Of sisterhood, to do that of a wife;  
T'avenge a husband's death, by brother's life.   

73  
Upon which accusation, presently  
The Duke committed is, without much stir  
Or vulgar noise; for that it tenderly  
Did touch the secretest wounds of Lancaster:  
When straight, another new conspiracy 
Hen. Percy E. of North. again conspires against the K with Rich. Scroop Archbishop of   
(As if it were a certain successor  
Allied to this) engendered in the North,  
Is by th'Archbishop Scroop with power brought forth:   

74  
And with fair zeal, and piety, approved  
To be forth th' universal benefit 
York. Tho. Mowbrary E Marshal, Tho. L, Bardolph, and others. They assembled the Citizens of York with the Country adjoining to take their part for the commodity of the realm.   
And secure of the people, who (soon moved  
By such persuaders, as are held upright;  
And for their zeal, and charity beloved)  
Use not t'examine if the Cause be right,  
But leap into the toil, and are undone  
By following them that they relied upon.   

75  
Here, new aspersions, with new obloquys,  
Are laid on old deserts; and future ill 
They divulge grievous Articles against the King.   
On present sufferings, bruited to arise,  
That farther grievances engender wil  
And then concussion, rapine, pillories,  
Their Catalogue of accusations fill.  
Which to redress, they do presume to make  
Religion to avow the part they take.   

76  
And even as Canterbury did produce  
A Pardon to advance him to the Crown; 
The Archb. of York offers pardon to all that take their part against the King.   
The like now York pronounces, to induce  
His faction for the pulling of him down:  
Whilst th'ignorant, deceived by this abuse,  
Makes others ends to be as if their own.  
But, what would these have done against the crimes,  
Oppressions, riots, wastes of other times?   

77  
Since now they had a Monarch, and a man,  
Raised by his worth, and by their own consent,  
To govern them, and works the best he can  
T'advance the crown, and give the State content; 
The E. of Wesstmoreland land, with John D. of Lancaster, gathered of army against the conspirators: whose power being too great for them, the E. made semblance to join with the Archb. for redress of such grievances as he pretended; and so circumvented and disfurnished him of his forces. An. Reg. 6.   
Commits not all to others care, nor ran  
An idle course, or on his Minions spent.  
" But, thus the Horse at first bites at the Bit;  
" That after is content to play with it.   

78  
Grown to a mighty power (attending now  
Northumberland, with his prepared aid)  
The Bishop (by a parley) is, with a show  
Of combination, cunningly betrayed  
By Westmoreland: whose wit did overthrow,  
Without a sword, all these great feats, and stayed  
The mightiest danger, that did ever yet  
Thy crown and State, disturbed Henry, threat.   

79  
For which, this reverent Priest with Mowbray dies: 
The Archb. was brother to William scroop E. of Wiltshire, Treasurer of England, before beheaded..   
Who both, drawn on, with passion of despite,  
To undertake this fatal enterprise  
(The one his brother's bloodshed to requite;  
The other for his father's injuries) 
though Mowbray E. Martial, son to the Duke of Norfolk, banished about the quarrel with H. Bullingbrooke.   
Did wrong themselves, and did not others right.  
For, who through th'eyes of their affections look,  
And not of judgement, thus are overtook.   

80  
Whereof when news came to Northumberland  
(Who seldom other then of misery  
Seems borne to hear; being ever behind hand  
With Fortune, and his opportunity) 
The E. of North. returning out of Wales slain in the battle, An. Reg. 9   
To Scotland flies: where, given to understand  
Of some intrapment by conspiracy,  
Gets into Wales: whence, he adventured  
T'attempt another day; and lost his head.   

81  
Whereby, once more those Parts are quieted,  
whenas the King (who never had his brow  
Seen free from sweat nor heart from trouble rid) 
The K. grows jealous of his son, Hen. Prince of Wales: who with a better mind than fashion, came to his Father and cleared himself. An. Reg. 13   
Was, with suspicion that his son grew now  
Too popular, and forward, so much fed  
By wicked instruments (who well knew how  
To gain by Prince's fears) as he thereby  
Fell, in his grief, to great extremity.   

82  
Which when that virtuous Prince (who borne to be  
The module of a glorious Monarch) heard,  
With humble protestations did so free  
His father's fears, and his own honour cleared,  
As that he plainly made the world to see  
How base, Detraction, and deceit appeared;  
And that a heart, so nobly built, could not  
Contain (within) a thought, that wore a blot.   

83  
Wherewith, the king betakes him to some peace;  
Yet to a peace, much like a sick-man's sleep  
(Whose unrelenting pains do never cease;  
But always watch upon his weakness keep)  
That never any Sabaoth of release  
Can free his travails, and afflictions deep:  
But still his cares held working, all his life,  
Till Death concludes a final end with strife.   

84  
WhoseHerald, sickness, being employed, before,  
With full commission to denounce his end;  
And pain and grief, enforcing more and more,  
Besieged the Hold, that could not long defend;  
Consuming, so, all that resisting store  
Of those provisions Nature deigned to lend,  
As that the walls, worn thin, permit the mind  
To look out thorough, and his frailty find.   

85  
For, now (as if those vapours vanished were,  
Which heat of boiling blood, and health, did breed,  
To cloud the judgement) things do plain appear  
In their own colours, as they are indeed;  
whenas th'illightened soul discovers clear  
theabuse shows of Sense, and notes with heed  
How poor a thing is pride; when all, as slaves,  
" Differ but in their fetters, not their graves.   

86  
And, lying on his last afflicted bed,  
Pale Death and Conscience both before him stand;  
Th'one holding out a book, wherein he read  
In bloody lines the deeds of his own hand:  
The other shows a glass, which figured  
An ugly form of foul corrupted Sand;  
Both bringing horror in the highest degree,  
With what he was, and what he soon should be.   

87  
Which seeing; all trembling, and confused with fear,  
He lay a while, amazed, with this affright:  
At last, commands some, that attending were,  
To fetch the crown, and set it in his sight.  
On which, with fixed eye, and heavy cheer,  
Casting a look; O God, saith he, what right  
I had to thee, I now in grief conceive:  
Thee, which with blood I held, with horror leave.   

88  
And, herewithal, the soul (rapt with the thought  
Of mischiefs past) did so attentive weigh  
These present terrors, whilst (as if forgot)  
The dull oppressed body senseless lay;  
That he, as breathless quite, quite dead is thought;  
When, lo, the son comes in, and takes-away  
This fatal crown from thence, and out he goes;  
As if impatient, longer time to lose.   

89  
To whom (called back for this presumptuous deed)  
The King (returned from out his ecstasy)  
" Began: O son, what needst thou make such speed  
" To be beforehand with thy misery?  
" Thou shalt have time enough, if thou succeed,  
" To feel the storms that beat on dignity.  
" And, if thou couldst but be (be any thing)  
" In liberty, than never be a King.   

90  
" Nay, Father; since your Fortune did attain  
" So high a Stand, I mean not to descend,  
" replies the Prince: as if what you did gain,  
" I were of spirit unable to defend.  
" Time will appease them well, who now complain,  
" And ratify our interest in the end.  
" What wrong hath not continuance quite outworn?  
" years make that right, which never was so borne.   

91  
" If so; God work his pleasure, said the King:  
" Yet thou must needs contend, with all thy might,  
" Such evidence of virtuous deeds to bring,  
" That well may prove our wrong to be our right:  
" And let the goodness of the managing  
" Raze out the blot of foul attaining, quite;  
" That Discontent may all advantage miss,  
" To wish it otherwise, then now it is.   

92  
" And since my death my purpose doth prevent,  
" Touching this Holy war I took in hand  
" (An action wherewithal my soul had meant  
" T'appease my God, and reconcile my Land)  
" To thee is left to finish my intent;  
" Who, to be safe, must never idly stand:  
" But some great actions entertain thou still,  
" To hold their minds, who else will practise ill.   

93  
" Thou hast not that advantage by my reign,  
" To riot it, as they whom long descent  
" Hath purchased love, by custom; but, with pain  
" Thou must contend to buy the world's content.  
" What their birth gave them, thou hast yet to gain,  
" By thine own virtues, and good government:  
" So that unless thy worth confirm the thing,  
" Thou never shalt be father to a King.   

94  
" Nor art thou borne in those calm days, where Rest  
" Hath brought asleep sluggish security:  
" But, in tumultuous times; where minds, addressed  
" To factions, are enured to mutiny;  
" A mischief, not by force, to be suppressed,  
" Where rigour still begets more enmity:  
" Hatred must be beguiled with some new course,  
" Where States are stiff, and Princes doubt their force.   

95  
This, and much more, Affliction would have said,  
Out of th'experience of a troublous reign 
Ann. dom. 1412 12. the K. died in the 46. year of his age, when he had reigned 13 years 6 months; and left 4 sons; Hen. after him K. The D. of Clarence, John D. of Bedford, and Humfrey D. of Gloucester.   
(For which, his high desires had dearly paid  
The interest of an ever-toyling pain)  
But that this all-subduing Power here staid  
His faltering tongue, and pain (r'inforcedinforc again again)  
Barred up th'oppressed passages of breath,  
To bring him quite under the state of Death.   

96  
In whose possession I must leave him now;  
And now, into the Ocean of new toils,  
Into the stormy Maine (where tempests grow  
Of greater ruins, and of greater spoils)  
Set forth my course (to hasten-on my vow)  
over All the troublous deep of these turmoils.  
And, if I may but live t'attain the shore  
Of my desired end, I wish no more.   
The end of the fourth book.   

THE FIFT book.  
THE argument.  

Henry the fift cuts off his enemy,  
The Earl of Cambridge, that conspired his death.  
Henry the sixth (married unluckily)  
His, and his countries glory ruineth.  
Suffolk, that made the match, preferred too high,  
Going to exile, a pirate murdereth.  
What means the Duke of York observed to gain  
The world's goodwill, seeking the crown t'attain.   

1  
CLose smothered lay the low depressed fire,  
Whose after-issuing flames confounded all, 
Henry 5. began his reign the 20 of March. An. 1412   
The whilst victorious Henry did conspire  
The wrack of France, that at his feet did fall:  
Whilst joys of gotten spoils, and new desire  
Of greater gain, to greater deeds did call  
His conquering troops; that could no thoughts retain,  
Save thoughts of glory, all that active reign.   

2  
Whom here, me thinks (as if he did appear,  
Out of the cloudy darkness of the night)  
I do behold approach with martial cheer,  
And with a dreadful (and yet lovely) sight:  
Whose eye gives courage, and whose brow hath fear;  
Both representing terror, and delight;  
And stays my course, and off my purpose breaks,  
And in up braiding words thus fiercely speaks:   

3  
" ungrateful times, that impiously neglect  
" That worth, that never times again shall show;  
" What? Merit's all our toil no more respect?  
" Or else stands idleness ashamed to know  
" Those wondrous Actions, that do so object  
" Blame to the wanton, sin unto the slow?  
" Can England see the best, that she can boast,  
" Lie thus ungraced, undeckt and almost lost?   

4  
" Why do you seek for feigned Paladins  
" (Out of the smoke of idle vanity)  
" Who may give glory to the true designs,  
" Of Bourchier, Talbot, Nevile, Willoughby?  
" Why should not you strive to fill up your lines,  
" With wonders of your own, with verity?  
" T'inflame their offspring with the love of good,  
" And glorious true examples of their Blood.   

5  
" What everlasting matter here is found,  
" Whence new immortal Iliads might proceed!  
" That those, whose happy graces do abound  
" In blessed accents, here may have to feed  
" Good thoughts, on no imaginary ground  
" Of hungry shadows, which no profit breed;  
" Whence, musicke-like, instant delight may grow;  
" Yet, when men all do know, they nothing know.   

6  
" And why dost thou, in lamentable verse,  
" Nothing but bloodshed, treasons, sin and shame,  
" The worst of times, th'extreme of ills, rehearse;  
" To raise old stains, and to renew dead blame?  
" As if the minds of th'evil, and perverse,  
" Were not far sooner trained from the same,  
" By good example of fair virtuous acts,  
" Then by the show of foul ungodly facts.   

7  
" Would God, our times had had some sacred wight,  
" Whose words as happy as our swords had been,  
" To have prepared for us trophies aright,  
" Of undecaying frames t'have rested in;  
" Triumphant Arks, of perdurable might,  
" O holy lines! that such advantage win  
" upon the sith of Time, in spite of years.  
" How blessed they, who gain what never wears!   

8  
" For, what is it to do, if what we do  
" Shall perish near as soon as it is done?  
" What is that glory we attain unto  
" With all our toil, if lost as soon as won?  
" A small requital, for so great ado,  
" Is this poor present breath, a smoke soon gone;  
" Or these dumb stones, erected for our sake:  
" Which, formless heaps few stormy changes make.   

9  
" Tell great ELIZA (since her days are graced,  
" With those bright ornaments, to us denied)  
" That she repair what darkness hath defaced,  
" And get our ruined deeds, re-edified:  
" She in whose all-directing eye is placed  
" A power, the highest powers of wit to guide;  
" she may command the work, and oversee  
" The holy frame, that might eternal be.   

10  
For, would she be content, that Time should make  
A ravenous prey, upon her glorious reign;  
That darkness, and the Night, should overtake  
So clear a brightness, shining without stain?  
Ah! no: She fosters some (no doubt) that wake  
For her eternity, with pleasing pain.  
And if she, for herself, prepare this good;  
Let her not so neglect those of her Blood.   

11  
This, that great Monarch, Henry, seemed to crave;  
When (weighing what a holy motive here  
Virtue proposed, and fit for him to have,  
Whom all times ought of duty hold most dear)  
I sighed, and wished that some would take t'engrave,  
With curious hand, so proud a work to rear  
(To grace the present, and to bless times past)  
That might, for ever, to our glory last.   

12  
So should our well-taught times have learned alike,  
How fair shined Virtue, and how foul Vice stood;  
When now myself am driven to mislike  
Those deeds of worth, I dare not vow for good:  
I cannot moon who lose, nor praise who seek  
By mighty Actions here t'advance their Blood.  
I must say, Who wrought most, least honour had:  
How ever good the Cause, the deeds were bad.   

13  
And only tell the worst of every reign;  
And not the intermeddled good report.  
I leave, what glory Virtue did attain  
At th'ever-memorable Agincort:  
I leave to tell, what wit, what power did gain  
Th'assieged Rouen, Caen, Dreux; or in what sort:  
How majesty, with terror, did advance  
Her conquering foot, on all subdued France.   

14  
All this I pass, and that magnanimous King,  
Mirror of virtue, miracle of worth;  
Whose mighty Actions, with wise managing,  
Forced prouder boasting Climes to serve the North.  
The best of all the best, the earth can bring,  
Scarce equals him, in what his reign brought forth;  
Being of a mind, as forward to aspire,  
As fit to govern what he did desire.   

15  
His comely body was a goodly seat,  
Where Virtue dwelled most fair; as lodged most pure:  
A body strong; where use of strength did get  
A stronger state to do, and to endure:  
His life he makes th'example, to beget  
Like spirit in those, he did to good enure;  
And gave, to Worth, such life, and livelihood,  
As if he greatness sought, but to do good.   

16  
He as the chief, and all-directing head,  
Did with his subjects, as his members, live;  
And them to goodness forced not but led;  
Winning, not much to have, but much to give  
(Deeming, the power of his, his power did spread)  
As borne to bless the world, and not to grieve;  
Adorned with others spoils, not subjects store:  
No King, exacting less; none, winning more.   

17  
He, after that corrupted faith had bred  
An ill enured obedience for Command;  
And languishing luxutiousnes had spread  
Weyward unaptness over all the Land;  
Those long unordered troops so marshaled,  
Under such formal discipline to stand,  
That even his soul seemed only to direct  
So great a body, such exploits t'effect.   

18  
He brings abroad distracted Discontent,  
Dispersed ill humours into actions high;  
And, to unite them all in one consent,  
Placed the fair mark of glory in their eye;  
That, Malice had no leisure to dissent,  
Nor envy time to practise treachery:  
The present actions do divert the thought  
Of madness past, while minds were so well wrought.   

19  
Here now were Pride, Oppression, usury  
(The canker-eating mischiefs of the State)  
Called forth to prey upon the enemy;  
Whilst the home-burth'ned, better lightened sat:  
Exactors did not, with a greedy eye,  
Examine states, or private riches rate:  
The silent Courts warred not, with busy words; 
The courts of justice.   
Nor wrested law gave the contentious, swords.   

20  
Now, nothing entertains th'attentive ear,  
But stratagems, assaults, surprises, fights;  
How to give laws to them that conquered were,  
How to articulate with yielding wights:  
The weak with mercy, and the proud with fear,  
How to retain; to give deserts their rights,  
Were now the arts: and nothing else was thought,  
But how to win, and maintain what was got.   

21  
Nor here were any privately possessed  
Or held alone imprisoned majesty,  
Proudly debarring entrance from the rest;  
As if the prey were theirs, by victory.  
Here, no detractor wounds who merits best;  
Nor shameless brow cheeres-on impiety.  
Virtue, who all her toil with zeal had spent,  
Not here, all unrewarded, sighing went.   

22  
But, here, the equally-respecting eye  
Of power, looking alike on like deserts,  
Blessing the good, made others good thereby;  
More mighty, by the multitude of hearts.  
The field of glory, unto all doth lie  
Open alike; honour, to all imparts.  
So that the only fashion in request,  
Was, to be good, or good-like, as the rest.   

23  
So much, o thou Example, dost effect  
(Being far a better Master, then Command) 
— Docet tolerare labores; Non jubet.   
That, how to do, by doing dost direct,  
And teachest others action, by thy hand.  
" Who follows not the course, that kings elect?  
" When Prince's work, who then will idle stand?  
" And, when that doing good is only thought  
" Worthy reward; who will be bad for nought?   

24  
And had not th'Earl of Cambridge, with vain speed, 
Richard E. of Cambridge the second son to Edmond Langly, Duke of York, married arm the daughter of Roger Mortimer Earl of March, descended from Lionel D. of Clarence, the third son to K Ed. 3. by whose right ' Richard D. of York son to this E. of Cambridge, afterwards aimed the crown.   
Untimely practised for an others right,  
With hope to advance those of his proper seed  
(On whom the Rule seemed destined to light)  
The Land had seen none of her own to bleed,  
During this reign, nor no aggrieved sight;  
None the least blackness interclouded had  
So fair a day, nor any eye looked sad.   

25  
But now, when France perceived (from afar)  
The gathering tempest, growing-on from hence,  
Ready to fall, threatening their State to mar,  
They labour all means to provide defence:  
And, practising how to prevent this war,  
And shut-out such calamities from thence,  
Do foster, here, some discord lately grown;  
To hold Ambition busied, with her own.   

26  
Finding those humours which they saw were fit  
Soon to be wrought, and easy to be fed,  
Swollen full with envy, that the crown should sit  
There where it did (as if established)  
And whom it touched in Blood, to grieve at it;  
They with such hopes and helps solicited,  
That this great Earl was drawn t'attempt the thing,  
And practiseth how to depose the King.   

27  
For, being of mighty means to do the deed;  
And yet of mightier hopes, then means to do:  
And yet of spirit, that did his hopes exceed;  
And then of Blood as great, to add thereto:  
All these, with what the gold of France could breed  
(Being powers enough a climbing mind to woe) 
The E of Cambridge conspiring the death of the King, was with Hen. Scroop Lord Treasurer, & Sir Thomas Grace executed at Southampton. Ann. 3. Reg.   
He so employed, that many he had won,  
Even of the chief the King relied upon.   

28  
The well-known right of th' Earl of March allured  
A leaning love: whose Cause he did pretend.  
Whereby, he knew that so himself procured  
The crown for his own children, in the end.  
For, the Earl being (as he was assured)  
Unapt for issue, it must needs descend  
On those of his, being next of Clarence race;  
As who, by course of right, should hold the place.   

29  
It was the time, whenas the forward Prince 
of Southampton.   
Had all prepared for his great enterprise;  
And ready stand his troops to part from hence,  
And all in stately form and order lies,  
When open Fame gives out intelligence  
Of these bad complots of his enemies:  
Or else, this time (of purpose) chosen is:  
Though known before; yet let run-on, till this.   

30  
That this might yield the more to aggravate  
Upon so foul a deed untimely sought,  
Now at this point, t'attempt to ruinated  
So glorious a design so forward brought,  
Whilst careful Virtue seeks t'advance the State,  
And for her everlasting honour sought:  
That though the Cause seemed right, and title strong;  
The time of doing it, yet makes it wrong.   

31  
But, strait, an unlamented death he had:  
And strait were joyfully the Anchors weighed:  
And all flock fast aboard, with visage glad;  
As if the sacrifice had now been paid,  
For their good speed; that made their stay so sad,  
Loathing the least occasion that delayed.  
And, now new thoughts, great hopes, calm seas, fair winds,  
With present action entertain their minds.   

32  
No other cross, o Henry, saw thy days 
Richard, Duke of York, son to the E. of Cambridge, by Anne daughter to the Earl of March, made his claim, in 30. year of Hen 6.   
But this, that touched thy now possessed hold;  
Nor after, long, till this man's son assays  
To get, of thine, the right that he controlled:  
For which, contending long, his life he pays.  
So that, it fatal seemed the father should  
Thy winning seek to stay, and then his son  
Should be the cause to lose, when thou hadst won.   

33  
Yet now in this so happy a meanwhile,  
And interlightning times, thy Virtues wrought,  
That Discord had no leisure to defile  
So fair attempts with a tumultuous thought:  
And even thyself, thyself didst so beguile  
With such attention upon what was sought,  
That time affords not now with fear or hate  
Others to seek, thee to secure thy State.   

34  
Or else, how easy had it been, for thee,  
All the pretendant race t'have laid full low?  
If thou proceeded hadst with cruelty,  
Not suffering any fatal branch to grow:  
But, unsuspicious magnanimity  
Shames such effects of fear, and force, to show;  
Busied in free, and open Actions still  
Being great: for, being good, hates to be ill.   

35  
And yet, such wrongs are held meet to be done,  
And often for the State thought requisite:  
As, when the public good depends thereon,  
When great injustice is esteemed great right:  
But yet, what good with doing ill is won?  
Who hath of blood made such a benefit,  
As hath not feared, more after then before,  
And made his peace the less, his plague the more?   

36  
far otherwise dealt this undaunted King,  
That cherished the offspring of his foes;  
And his Competitors to grace did bring:  
And them, his friends for arms, and honours, chose;  
As if plain courses were the safest thing,  
Where upright goodness, sure, and steadfast goes,  
Free from that subtle masked impiety,  
Which this depraved world calls policy.   

37  
Yet, how hath Fate disposed of all this good?  
What have these Virtues after times availed?  
In what stead hath hy-raised Valour stood,  
When this continuing cause of greatness failed?  
Then, when proud-growne, the irritated blood,  
Enduring not itself, itself assailed;  
As though that prowess had but learned to spill  
Much blood abroad, to cut her throat with skill   

38  
How doth th'eternal, in the course of things,  
Immix the causes both of Good and Ill?  
That thus the one, effects of th'other brings:  
As what seems made to bliss, is borne to spill?  
What? from the best of virtue's glory, springs  
That, which the world with misery doth fill?  
Is th'end of happiness, but wretchedness?  
Hath sin his plague, and Virtue no success?   

39  
Either that is not good, the world holds good:  
Or else is so confused with ill; that we  
(Abused with th'appearing likelihood)  
Run to offend, whilst we think good to be:  
Or else the heavens made man (in furious blood)  
To torture man; Allotting no course free  
From mischief long: Sending fair days that breed  
But storms; to make, more foul, times that succeed.   

40  
Who would have thought, that so great victories,  
Such conquests, riches, Land, and kingdom gained,  
Can not but have established in such wise  
This powerful state, in state to have remained?  
Who would have thought, that mischief could devise  
A way, so soon to lose what was attained?  
As if power were but show'd to grieve, not grace;  
And to reduce us into far worse case.   

41  
With what contagion, France, didst thou infect  
This Land, by thee made proud, to disagree?  
T'enrage them so, their own sword to direct  
Upon themselves, that were made sharp in thee?  
Why didst thou teach them, here at home t'erect  
Trophies of their blood, which of thine should be?  
Or was the date of thine affliction out,  
And so (by course) was ours to come about?   

42  
But, that untimely death of this great King, 
Hen. 5. reigned 9 years and ten months, and died in the 36 year of his age.   
Whose nine years reign so mighty wonders wrought,  
To thee thy hopes; to us despair did bring;  
Not long to keep, and govern, what was got:  
For, those that had th'affairs in managing,  
Although their country's good they greatly sought;  
Yet, so ill accidents unfitly fell,  
That their designs could hardly prosper well.   

43  
An infant King doth in the State succeed, 
Hen. 6. scarce one year old when he began his reign, was committed to the charge of the two good Dukes, Bedford and Gloucester his uncles.   
Scarce one year old, left unto others guide:  
Whose careful trust, though such as show'd indeed,  
They weighed their charge more than the world beside,  
And did with duty, zeal, and love proceed;  
Yet (for all what their travail could provide)  
Can not woe Fortune, to remain with us,  
When this her Minion was departed thus:   

44  
But, by degrees first this, then that, regained,  
The turning tide bears back, with flowing chance  
Unto the Dolphin, all we had attained,  
And fills the late lowe-running hopes of France;  
When Bedford (who our only hold maintained)  
Death takes from us, their fortune to advance:  
And then home-strife (that on itself did fall)  
Neglecting foreign care, did soon lose all.   

45  
Near three score years are passed since Bullingbrook  
Did first attain (God knows how just) the crown:  
And now his race, for right possessors took,  
Were held of all, to hold nought but their own:  
When Richard, Duke of York, gins to look  
Into their right, and makes his title known;  
Wakening-up sleeping Right (that lay as dead)  
To witness, how his race was injured.   

46  
His father's end, in him, no fear could move  
T'attempt the like, against the like of might;  
Where long possession now of fear, and love,  
Seemed to prescribe even an innated Right.  
So that, To prove his state, was to disprove  
Time, law, consent, oath, and allegiance quite:  
And no way, but the way of blood there was,  
Through which, with all confusion he must pass.   

47  
And how much better for him, had it been,  
T'endure a wrong with peace, then with such toil  
" T'obtain a bloody Right? since Right is sin,  
" That is ill sought, and purchased with spoil.  
But, this so wretched state are kingdoms in,  
Where one man's Cause, shall all the rest embroil:  
And oft, t'advance a tyrant to a crown,  
Men run to undo the State, that is their own.   

48  
And yet that opportunity, which led  
Him to attempt, seems likewise him t'excuse:  
A feeble spirited King that governed,  
(Who ill could guide the sceptre he did use)  
His enemies (that his worth maliced;  
Who, both the Land, and him, did much abuse)  
The people's love, and his apparent Right,  
May seem sufficient motives to incite.   

49  
Besides; the now ripe wrath (deferred till now)  
Of that sure and unfailing justicer,  
That nevers suffers wrong so long to grow,  
And to incorporate with right so far,  
As it might come to seem the same in show  
(T'encourage those that evil minded are  
By such success) but that at last he will  
Confound the branch, whose root was planted ill.   

50  
Else, might the impious say (with grudging spite)  
Doth God permit the Great to riot free,  
And bless the mighty though they do unright,  
As if he did unto their wrongs agree?  
And only plague the weak and wretched wight,  
For smallest faults, even in the highest degree?  
When he, but using them for others scourge,  
Likewise of them at length the world doth purge.   

51  
But could not yet, for bloodshed, satisfy  
The now well-ruling of th'ill-gotten crown?  
Must even the good receive the penalty  
Of former sins, that never were their own?  
And must a just King's blood, with misery  
Pay for a bad, unjustly overthrown?  
Well; then we see, Right in his course must go:  
And men, t'escape from blood, must keep it so.   

52  
And, sure, this King, that now the crown possessed  
(Henry the sixth) was one, whose life was free  
From that command of vice, whereto the rest  
Of most these mighty sovereign's subjects be;  
And numbered might have been, among the best  
Of other men, if not of that degree:  
A right good man, but yet an evil King;  
Unfit for what he had in managing.   

53  
Of humble spirit, of nature continent:  
No thought t'increase he had; scarce keep his own:  
For pardoning apt, then for punishment,  
He chokes his power, to have his bounty known.  
far from revenge, soon won, soon made content;  
As fit for a cloister then a crown:  
Whose holy mind so much addicted is  
On th'world to-come, that he neglecteth this.   

54  
With such a weake-good, feeble-godly King,  
Hath Richard, Duke of York, his Cause to try:  
Who, by th'experience of long managing  
The wars of France, with supreme dignity;  
And by his own great worth, with furthering  
The common good against the enemy,  
Had wrought, that zeal and love attend his might,  
And made his spirit equal unto his Right.   

55  
For, now the Duke of Bedford being dead, 
The D. of York made Regent in France, after the death of the D. of Bedf.   
He is ordained the Regent to succeed  
In France for five years: where, he travailed  
With ready hand, and with as careful heed,  
To seek to turn back Fortune (that now fled)  
And hold up falling power, in time of need:  
And got and lost, and reattaines (again)  
That which again was lost, for all his pain.   

56  
His time expired, he should for five years more  
Have had his charge prolonged: but Somerset 
Edmond, Duke of Somerset, a great enemy of the Duke of York.   
(That still had envied his command before)  
That place, and honour, for himself did get:  
Which adds that matter to th'already store  
Of kindled hate, which such a fire doth set  
Unto the touch of a confounding flame,  
As both their bloods could never quench the same.   

57  
And now the weakness of that feeble Head  
(That doth neglect all care, but his soul's care)  
So easy means of practice ministered,  
Unto th'ambitious members, to prepare  
Their own desires, to what their humours led;  
That all good actions coldly followed are,  
And sev'rall-tending hopes do wholly bend  
To other now, then to the public end.   

58  
And, to draw-on more speedy misery,  
The King unto a fatal match is led  
With Rayners daughter, King of Sicily; 
This rauner was Duke of Aniou, & only enjoyed the title of the K. of Sicilia.   
Whom, with unlucky stars, he married:  
For, by the means of this affinity,  
Was lost all that his father conquered;  
Even as if France had some Erynnis sent  
T'avenge their wrongs, done by the insolent.   

59  
This marriage was the Earl of Suffolk's deed, 
William de la Pole E. of Suffolk, after created D. of Suff. the chiefest instrument in this marriage: which was solemnized, An. Reg. 23. between the King & the Lady Margaret, daughter to Rayner D. of Aniou; to whom was delivered up the Duchy of Anjou, & the Conty of Maine, upon the conclusion of this match.   
With great rewards won to effect the same:  
Which made him that he took so little heed  
Unto his country's good, or his own shame;  
It being a match could stand us in no steed  
For strength, for wealth, for reputation, fame:  
But cunningly contrived for others gain;  
And cost us more, than Anjou, Mauns, and Maine.   

60  
And yet (as if he had accomplished  
Some mighty benefit unto the Land)  
He got his travails to be registered  
In parliament, for evermore to stand  
A witness to approve all what he did:  
To th'end, that, if hereafter it were scanned,  
Authority might yet be on his side;  
As doing nought but what was ratified:   

61  
Imagining, th'allowance of that Place  
Would make that good, the which he knew was nought;  
And so would his negotiation grace,  
As none might think it was his private fault.  
Wherein, though wit dealt wary in this case;  
Yet, in the end, itself it over-raught.  
Striving to hide, he opened it the more;  
His after-care, show'd craft had gone before.   

62  
Dear didst thou buy, o King, so fair a Wife,  
So rare a spirit, so high a mind, the-while:  
Whose portion was destruction; dowry, strife:  
Whose bed was sorrow; whose embracing, spoil:  
Whose maintenance cost thee and thine, their life;  
And whose best comfort, never was but toil.  
What Paris brought this booty of desire,  
To set our mighty Ilium here on fire?   

63  
I grieve, I should be forced to say thus much,  
To blame her, whom I yet must wonder at;  
Whoseso sweet beauty, wit, and worth, were such,  
As (though she Fortune lost) she glory got:  
Yet doth my country's zeal so nearly touch,  
That here my Muse it doth exasperate;  
Although unwilling, that my pen should give  
Stain to that sex, by whom her fame doth live.   

64  
For, sure, those virtues well deserved a crown.  
And, had it not been ours, no doubt she might  
Have been among the Worthies of renown,  
And now sat fair with fame, with glory bright:  
But, coming in the way where sin was grown  
So foul and thick, it was her chance to light  
Amidst the gross infection of those times;  
And so came stained with black disgraceful crimes.   

65  
For, some the world must have, on whom to lay  
The heavy burden of reproach and blame;  
Against whose deeds, th'afflicted may inveigh,  
As th'only Authors, whence destruction came:  
When yet, perhaps, 'twas not in them to stay  
The current of that stream, nor help the same;  
But, living in the eye of Action so,  
Not hindering it, are thought to draw-on wo.   

66  
So much unhappy do the mighty stand,  
Who stand on other than their own defence,  
whenas destruction is so near at hand,  
That if by weakness, folly, negligence,  
They do not coming misery withstand,  
They shall be deemed th'author's of th'offence,  
And to call in, that which they kept not out;  
And cursed, as they who brought those plagues about.   

67  
And so remain for ever rigistred  
In that eternal book of infamy;  
When yet how many other causes led  
As well to that, as their iniquity?  
The worst complots oft lie close smothered:  
And well-meant deeds fall out unluckily;  
Whilst the aggrieved stand not to weigh th'intent;  
But ever judge according to th'event.   

68  
I say not this t'excuse thy sin, o Queen, 
The pride and haughtiness of this Queen Margaret gave the first original to the mischiefs that followed lowed by the death of Humfrey Duke of Gloster Protector.   
Nor clear their faults who mighty Actors are:  
I cannot but affirm, thy pride hath been  
A special means this commonwealth to mar:  
And that thy wayward will was plainly seen,  
In vain ambition, to presume too far;  
And that, by thee, the only way was wrought  
The Duke of Gloster to his death was brought:   

69  
A man, though seeming in thy thought to sit  
Between the light of thy desires and thee;  
Yet did his taking thence plainly permit  
Others to look to that they could not see  
During his life, nor would adventure it:  
When his remove quite made that passage free;  
That, by his fall, thinking to stand alone,  
Thou scarce couldst stand at all, when he was gone.   

70  
For, this Duke (as Protector) many years,  
Had ruled the Land, during the King's young age;  
And now the self same charge and title bears,  
As if he still were in his pupillage:  
Which, such disgrace unto the Queen appears,  
That (all incensed, with an ambitious rage)  
She doth conspire to have him madeaway;  
As one, that stayed the Current of her sway:   

71  
Thrust thereinto, not only with her pride;  
But, by her father's counsel and consent:  
Who grieved likewise, that any one beside,  
Should have the honour of the government:  
And, therefore, he such deep advice applied,  
As foreign craft and cunning could invent,  
To cirumvent an unsuspecting wight,  
Before he should discern of their despite.   

72  
And many ready hands she strait doth find,  
To aid her deed, of such as could not brook  
The length of one man's office, in that kind;  
Who, all th'especial Charges undertook,  
Ruled all, himself: and never had the mind  
T'impart a part with others; who would look  
To have likewise some honour in their hands,  
And grieved at such engrossing of Commands.   

73  
For, had he not had such a greedy love 
Nil tam, utile, brevem breuem potestatem esse qua magna sit.   
To entertain his Offices too long,  
Envy had been unable to reprove  
His acted life, unless she did him wrong:  
But, having lived, so many years, above,  
He grieves now to descend, to be less strong,  
And kills that fame that virtue did beget;  
Chose to be held less good, then seen less great.   

74  
" For, could the mighty but give bounds to pride,  
" And weigh back Fortune, ere she pull Them down;  
" Contented with enough, with honours satisfied,  
" Not striving how to make so much their own,  
" As to leave nothing for the rest beside,  
" Who seem by their high-spreading overgrown  
" (whilst they themselves remain in all men's sight,  
" The odious mark of hatred and despite)   

75  
" Then never should so many tragedies  
" burden our knowledge, with their bloody end:  
" Nor their disgraced confounded families,  
" From so high pride, to follow low shame descend;  
" But, planted on that ground where safety lies,  
" Their branches should to eternity extend:  
" But ever, they, who overlook so much,  
" Will oversee themselves; their state is such.   

76  
Severe he was, and strictly did observe 
The Virtues of Humfrey D. Gloucester.   
Due form of justice towards every wight;  
unmovable, and never won to swerver  
For any cause, in what he thought was right:  
Wherein, although he did so well deserve;  
In the licentious, yet, it bred despite:  
" So that even Virtue seems an Actor too,  
" To ruin those, Fortune prepares t'undo.   

77  
Now, such, being forward, who (the Queen well knew)  
Hated his might, and glad to innovate;  
Unto so great, and strong a party grew,  
As it was easy to subvert his State:  
And only hope of alteration drew  
Many to yield, that had no cause to hate.  
" For, even with goodness men grow discontent,  
" Where States are ripe to fall, and virtue spent.   

78  
And, taking all the Rule into her hand  
(under the shadow of that feeble King)  
The Duke sh'excludes from Office and Command,  
And in the reach of enmity doth bring,  
From that respected height where he did stand  
(When malice scarce durst mutter any thing):  
And now the worst of him comes all revealed,  
Which former fear, or rigour kept concealed.   

79  
Now is he taxed, that he rather sought  
His private profit, than the public good;  
And many things presumptuously had wrought;  
Other, then with our laws, and customs stood:  
As one, that would into the Land have brought  
The civil form, in cases touching blood;  
And such poor Crimes: that show'd, their spite was sound;  
But yet bewrayed, their matter wanted ground.   

80  
Yet served they well the turn, and did effect  
That which is easy wrought in such a case:  
Where, what suborned justice shall object,  
Is to the purpose, and must pass with grace;  
And what the wretched bring, of no effect:  
Whose heinous faults his matter must deface.  
" For, where power hath decreed to find th'offence,  
" The Cause is better still, than the defence.   

81  
A parliament, at Berry summoned, 
The D. of Gloucester coming to this parliament from his Castle of the Viez in Wiltshire. was arrested by John L. Beaumont high Constable, the Dukes of Buckingham and Somerset, with others; who appointed certain of the King's household to attend upon him: but he died before he was brought to his answer, some say of sorrow, others of a palsy, or an Impostume, An. Reg, 25. The D. of suffolk was a principal instrument in this business.   
Dispatched the deed, more speedily than well.  
For, thither came the Duke without all dread,  
Or ought imagining of what befell:  
Where, now the matter is so followed,  
That he convented is, ore he could tell  
He was in danger, or had done offence;  
And presently to prison sent, from thence.   

82  
Which quick, and sudden action gave not time  
For men to weigh the justice of the deed;  
Whilst looking only on the urged crime,  
Unto the farther drift they take no heed.  
For, these occasions taken in the prime  
Of courses new, that old dislikes succeed,  
Leave not behind that feeling touch of wrong.  
Satiety makes passions still less strong.   

83  
And yet they seemed some mutiny to doubt,  
For thus proceeding with a man of might;  
Considering he was popular and stout,  
And resolute would stand upon his Right:  
And therefore did they cast this way about,  
To have him closely murdered out of sight;  
That so, his trouble, and his death hereby,  
Might come together, and together die:   

84  
Reckoning it better, since his end is meant,  
And must be wrought, at once to rid it clear,  
And put it to the fortune of th'event;  
Then by long doing, to be long in fear:  
When, in such courses of high punishment,  
The deed, and the attempt, like danger bear:  
And oft, things done (perhaps) do less annoy,  
Then may the doing, handled with delay.   

85  
And, so, they had it strait accomplished.  
For, next day after his commitment, he  
Is dead brought forth; being found so in his bed:  
Which was by sudden sickness said to be,  
That had upon his sorrows newly bred;  
As by apparent tokens men might see.  
And thus o sickness, thou art oft belied;  
When death hath many ways to come, beside.   

86  
Are these the deeds, high foreign wits invent?  
Is this that wisdom whereof they so boast?  
Well; then I would it never had been spent  
Hear, amongst us, nor brought from out their coast:  
Let their vile cunning, in their limits penned,  
Remain amongst themselves, that like it most:  
And let the North (they count of colder blood)  
Be held more gross, so it remain more good.   

87  
Let them have fairer cities, goodlier soils,  
And sweeter fields, for beauty to the eye,  
So long as they have these ungodly wiles,  
Such detestable vile impiety:  
And let us want their Vines, their fruits the-whyles,  
So that we want not faith and honesty:  
We care not for those pleasures; so we may  
Have better hearts, and stronger hands than they.   

88  
Neptune, keepe-out, from thy embraced isle,  
This foul contagion of iniquity:  
Drown all corruptions, coming to defile  
Our fair proceed ordered formally:  
Keep us mere English: let not craft be guile  
Honour and justice, with strange subtleties  
Let us not think, how that our good can frame,  
Which ruined hath the Authors of the same.   

89  
But, by this impious means, that worthy man  
Is brought unto this lamentable end.  
And, now, that Current with main fury ran  
(The stop removed, that did the course defend)  
Unto the full of mischief, that began  
T'a universal ruin to extend;  
That Isthmus failing, which the Land did keep,  
From the entire possession of the deep.   

90  
And now the King, alone, all open lay;  
No underprop of Blood, to stay him by.  
None, but himself stands weakly in the way  
Twixt York, and the affected sovereignty:  
Gone is that bar, that would have been the stay  
T'have kept him back, from mounting up so high.  
" But see (ah!) see: What state stand these men in,  
" That cannot live without, nor with their kin?   

91  
The Queen hath yet, by this, her full desire;  
And now she with her Minion, Suffolk, reigns: 
De la Pole created created D. of suffolk, Ann. Reg. 26 and is banished, and murdered, the next year after.   
Now she hath hath all authority entire;  
And all affairs unto herself retains:  
And only Suffolk is advanced higher,  
He is the man rewarded, for his pains;  
He, that did her in stead most chief stand;  
And more advanced her, than he did the landlord.   

92  
Which when they saw, who better did expect,  
Then they began their error to descry;  
And well perceive, that only the defect  
Was in their judgements, passion-drawne awry;  
Found, formal rigour fit to direct,  
Then pride and insolent inconstancy.  
" Better severity, that's right and just,  
" Then impotent affections, led with lust.   

93  
And thereupon, in sorrow thus complain;  
" What wondrous inconvenience do they feel,  
" Where as such imbecility doth reign,  
" As so neglects the care of commonweal?  
" Where, ever one or other doth obtain  
" So high a grace thus absolute to deal;  
" The-whilst th'aggrieved subject suffers, still,  
" The pride of some predominating will?   

94  
" And ever, one removed, a worse succeeds:  
" So that the best, that we can hope, is war,  
" Tumults, and stirs, that this disliking breeds:  
" The sword must mend, what Insolence doth mar.  
" For, what rebellions, and what bloody deeds,  
" have ever followed, where such courses are?  
" What oft-removes? what death of counsellors?  
" What murder? what exile of Officers?   

95  
" witness the Spencers, Gavestone, and Vere,  
" The mighty Minions of our feeblest Kings;  
" Who ever subjects to their subjects were,  
" And only the procurers of these things:  
" When worthy monarches, that hold honour dear,  
" master themselves, and theirs; which ever brings  
" That universal reverence, and respect.  
" For, who weighs him, that doth himself neglect?   

96  
" And yet our case is like to be far worse;  
" having a King, though not so bend to ill,  
" Yet so neglecting good, that giving force  
" By giving leave, doth all good order kill;  
" suffering a violent Woman take her course,  
" To manage all, according to her will:  
" Which, how she doth begin, her deeds express;  
" And, what will be the end, ourselves may guess.   

97  
Which after followed, even as they did dread, 
The Duchy of Normandy was lost, in the year 1449, after it had been held 30 years conquered by Hen. 5. Ann. Reg. 27. Articles objected against de la Poole, Duke of suffolk.   
When now the shameful loss of France, much grieves:  
Which unto Suffolk is attributed;  
As who in all men's sight most hateful lives:  
And is accused, that he (with lucre led).  
Betrays the State, and secret knowledge gives  
Of our designs; and, all that we did hold,  
By his corruption, is or lost, or sold.   

98  
And, as he deals abroad, so likewise here,  
He robs at home, the treasury no less;  
Here, where he all authorities doth bear,  
And makes a Monopoly of Offices:  
He is enriched, His raised, and placed near; 
At the Parliament at Leicester, the lower House besought the K. that such persons as assented to the rendering of Aniou and Maine, might be duly punished: of which fact, they accused as principals, the D. of suffolk, the L. Say, Treasurer of Eng. with others. whereupon, the K. to appease the Commons, sequestered them from their offices & rooms; and after, banished the D. for 5 years.   
And only he, gives counsel to oppress:  
Thus men object, whilst many, up in arms,  
Offer to be revenged of these harms.   

99  
The Queen, perceiving in what case she stood  
To lose her Minion, or engage her State;  
(After with long contention in her blood,  
Love and Ambition, did the Cause debate)  
She yields to Pride: and rather thought it good,  
To sacrifice her love unto their hate;  
Then to adventure else the loss of all:  
Which (by maintaining him) was like to fall.   

100  
Yet, seeking at the first to temporize,  
She tries if that some short Imprisonment  
Would calm their heat: when that would not suffice,  
Then to exile him she must needs consent;  
Hoping, that time would salve it in such wise,  
As yet at length they might become content,  
And she again, might have him home at last,  
When this first fury of their rage was passed.   

101  
But, as he to his judged exile went,  
Hard on the shore he comes encountered 
As the D. was sailing into France, he was encountered with a ship of war, appertaining to the D. of Excester: who took him, & brought him back to Dover: where his head was stricken off, and his body left on the sands. Ann. reg. 27.   
By some, that so far off his Honour sent,  
As put his back-return quite out of dread:  
For, there he had his rightful punishment,  
Though wrongly done; and there he lost his head:  
Part of his blood hath Neptune, part the Sand;  
As who had mischief wrought by sea and land.   

102  
Whosedeath, when swift-wingd Fame at full conveyed  
To this disturbed Queen, misdoubting nought;  
Despite, and Sorrow such affliction laid  
Upon her soul, as wondrous passions wrought.  
" And art thou Suffolk, thus, said she, betrayed?  
" And have my favours thy destruction brought?  
" Is this their gain, whom highness favoureth,  
" Who chief preferred, stand as preferred to death?   

103  
" O fatal grace! without which, men complain,  
" And with it perish; what prevails that we  
" Must wear the crown, and other men must reign,  
" And cannot stand to be, that which we be?  
" Must our own subjects limit and constrain  
" Our favours, whereas they themselves decree?  
" Must we, our love, at their appointment, place?  
" Do we command, and they direct our grace?   

104  
" Must they our power, thus from our will, divide?  
" And have we might, but must not use our might?  
" poor majesty, which other men must guide;  
" Whose discontent can never look aright:  
" For, evermore we see those who abide  
" Gracious in ours, are odious in their sight,  
" Who would all-maistring majesty defeat  
" Of her best grace; that is, to make men Great.   

105  
" But, well; We see, although the King be Head,  
" The State will be the Heart. This sovereignty  
" Is but in place, not power; and governed  
" By th'equal sceptre of necessity.  
" And we have seen more Princes ruined,  
" By their imoderat favouring privately,  
" Then by severity in general.  
" For, best he's liked, that is alike to all.   

106  
Thus storms this Lady, all disquieted; 
The Commons of Kent assembled themselves in great number: and had to their captain's lack Cade, who named himself Mortimer, cozen to the Duke of York: with purpose to redress the abuses of the government.   
whenas far greater tumults now burst out:  
Which close and cunningly were practised,  
By such, as sought great hopes to bring about.  
For, up in arms in Kent were gathered  
A mighty insolent rebellious rout,  
Under a dangerous Head; who, to deter  
The State the more, himself named Mortimer.   

107  
The Duke of York, that did not idle stand  
(But seeks to work on all advantages)  
Had likewise in this course a secret hand,  
And heartened on their chiefest complices;  
To try how here the people of the Land  
Would (if occasion served) bein readiness  
To aid that Line, if one should come in deed  
To move his Right, and in due course proceed;   

108  
Knowing himself to be the only one,  
That must attempt the thing, if any should:  
And therefore, let's the rebel now run-on  
With that false Name, t'effect the best he could;  
To make a way for him to work upon,  
Who but on certain ground adventure would.  
For, if the Traitor sped, the gain were his;  
If not, yet he stands safe, and blameless is.   

109  
T'attempt' with others dangers, not his own,  
He counts it wisdom, if it could be wrought:  
And t'have the humour of the people known,  
Was now that, which was chiefly to be sought.  
For, with the best, he knew himself was grown  
In such account, as made him take no thought;  
Having observed, in those he meant to prove,  
Their wit, their wealth, their carriage, and their love.   

110  
With whom, and with his own alliances,  
He first gins to open (in some wise)  
The Right he had; yet, with such doubtfulness,  
As rather sorrow, than his drift descries:  
Complaining of his country's wretchedness,  
In what a miserable case it lies;  
And how much it imports them to provide  
For their defence, against this woman's pride.   

111  
Then, with the discontented he doth deal,  
In sounding theirs, not uttering his intent;  
As being advised, not so much to reveal,  
Whereby they might be made again content:  
But, when they grieved for the commonweal,  
He doth persuade them to be patiented,  
And to endure; there was no other course:  
Yet, so persuades, as makes their malice worse.   

112  
And then, with such as with the time did run,  
In most upright opinion he doth stand;  
As one, that never crossed what they begun,  
But seemed to like that which they took in hand:  
Seeking all causes of offence to shun,  
Praises the Rule, and blames th'unruly Land;  
Works so with gifts, and kindly offices,  
That, even of them, he serves his turn no less.   

113  
Then, as for those, who were his followers  
(Being all choice men for virtues, or deserts)  
He so with grace, and benefits prefers,  
That he becomes the Monarch of their hearts.  
He gets the learned, for his counsellors;  
And cherishes all men of rarest parts:  
" To whom, good done, doth an impression strike  
" Of joy and love, in all that are alike.   

114  
And now, by means of th'intermitted war,  
Many most valiant men, impov'rished,  
Only by him fed and relieved are;  
Only respected, graced, and honoured.  
Which let him in, unto their hearts so far,  
As they by him were wholly to be led.  
" He only treads the sure and perfect path  
" To greatness, who love and opinion hath.   

115  
And, to have one some certain province his,  
As the main body that must work the feat,  
Yorkshire he chose, the place wherein he is  
By title, livings, and possessions great.  
No Country he prefers, so much as this:  
Here, hath his bounty, her abiding seat:  
Here, is his justice, and relieving hand,  
Ready to all, that in distress do stand.   

116  
What with his tenants, servants, followers, friends,  
And their alliances, and amities,  
All that Shire universally attends  
His hand, held up to any enterprise.  
And thus far, Virtue with her power extends:  
The rest, touching th'event, in Fortune lies.  
With which accomplements, so mighty grown,  
Forward he tends, with hope t'attain a crown.   
The end of the fift book.   

THE sixth book.  
THE argument.  

The bad success of Cades rebellion:  
York's open practice and conspiracy:  
His coming in, and his submission:  
Th' effect of Printing and artillery.  
Bordeaux revolts; craves our protection:  
Talbot, defending ours, dies gloriously.  
The French wars end: and York gins again;  
And, at S. Alban's, Somerset is slain.   

1  
THE furious train of that tumultuous rout, 
The Commons of Kent with their Leader jack Cade divulge their many grievances: amongst which, That the King was driven to live only on his Commons; & other men to enjoy the revenues of the crown; which caused poverty in his majesty, and the great payments of the people, now late granted to the King in parliament. Also they desire, that the King would remove all the false progeny and affinity of the late D. of suffolk which be openly known, and them to punish, and to take about his person the true Lords of his royal blood; to wit, the mighty Prince the D. of York, late exiled by the traitorous motion of the false D. of Suffolk, and his affinity, etc.   
Whom close subayding power, and good success,  
Had made unwisely proud, and fond stout,  
Thrust headlong on, oppression to oppress;  
And now, to fullness grown, boldly give out,  
That they the public wrongs meant to redress:  
" Formelesse themselves, reforming do pretend;  
" As if Confusion could Disorder mend.   

2  
And on they march, with their false-named Head,  
Of base and vulgar birth, though noble feigned:  
Who, puffed with vain desires, to London led  
His rash abused troops, with shadows trained:  
whenas the King, thereof ascertained,  
Supposing some small power would have restrained  
Disordered rage, sends with a simple crew  
Sir Humphrey Stafford; whom they overthrew.   

3  
Which so increased th' opinion of their might,  
That much it gave to do, and much it wrought,  
Confirmed their rage, drew on the vulgar wight,  
Called forth the timorous, fresh partakers brought:  
For, many, though most glad their wrongs to right,  
Yet durst not venture their estates for nought:  
But, see'ing the Cause had such advantage got,  
Occasion makes them stir; that else would not. 
Also they crave that they who contrived the death of the high and mighty Prince, Humfrey' D of Gloucester, might have punishment.    

4  
So much he errs, that scorns, or else neglects  
The small beginnings of arising broils;  
And censures others, not his own defects,  
And with a self-conceit himself beguiles;  
Thinking small force will compass great effects,  
And spares at first to buy more costly toils:  
" When true-obseruing providence, in war,  
" Still makes her foes, far stronger than they are.   

5  
Yet this good fortune, all their fortune marred;  
" Which, fools by helping ever doth suppress.  
For, wareless insolence (whilst undebarred  
Of bounding awe) runs on to such excess,  
That following lust, and spoil, and blood, so hard,  
Sees not how they procure their own distress:  
The better, loathing courses so impure,  
Rather will like their wounds, than such a cure.   

6  
For, whilst this wild unreined multitude  
(Led with an unfore-seeing greedy mind  
Of an imagined good, that did delude  
Their ignorance, in their desires made blind)  
Ransack the city, and (with hands imbrued)  
Run to all outrage in th'extremest kind,  
Heaping-up wrath and horror, more and more,  
They add fresh guilt, to mischiefs done before.   

7  
And yet, seeing all this sorting to no end,  
But to their own; no promised aid t'appear;  
No such partakers as they did attend;  
Nor such successses as imagined were;  
Good men resolved, the present to defend;  
justice, against them with a brow severe:  
Themselves, feared of themselves, tired with excess,  
" Found, mischief was no fit way to redress.   

8  
And as they stand in desperate cumberment,  
Environed round with horror, blood, and shame:  
Crossed of their course, despairing of th'event  
A pardon (that smooth bait for baseness) came:  
Which (as a snare, to catch the impotent)  
Being once pronounced, they strait embrace the same:  
And, as huge snowy mountains melt with heat;  
So they dissolved with hope, and home they get:   

9  
Leaving their captain to discharge, alone,  
The shot of blood, consumed in their heat: 
Anno   
Too small a sacrifice, for mischiefs done, 
Reg. 29.   
Was one man's breath, which thousands did defeat.  
Unrighteous Death, why art thou but all one  
Unto the small offender and the great?  
Why art thou not more than thou art, to those  
That thousands spoil, and thousands lives do lose?   

10  
This fury, passing with so quick an end, 
The D. of York, who at this time was in Ireland (sent thither to appease a Rebellion: which he effected in such sort, as got him & his lineage exceeding love and liking with that people ever after) returning home, and pretending great injuries to be offered him, both whiles he was in the K. service, & likewise upon his landing in North-wales, combines himself with Ric. Nevile E. of Salis. second son to Ralph, E. of Westmoreland (whose daughter he had married) & with Ri. Nevile the son, E. of Warw. with other his especial friends; with whom he consults, for the reformation of the government, after he had complained of the great disorders therein: Laying the blame, for the loss of Normandy upon the D. of summers. whom, upon his returning thence, he caused to be arrested and committed.   
Disclosed not those that on th'advantage lay:  
Who, seeing the course to such disorder tend,  
Withdrew their foot, ashamed to take that way;  
Or else prevented, whilst they did attend  
Some mightier force, or for occasion stay:  
But, what they meant, ill-fortune must not tell;  
Mischief being oft made good, by speeding well.   

11  
Put-by from this, the Duke of York designs  
Another course to bring his hopes about:  
And, with those friend's affinity combines  
In surest bonds, his thoughts he poureth-out:  
And closely feels, and closely undermines  
The faith of whom he had both hope and doubt;  
Meaning, in more apparent open course,  
To try his right, his fortune, and his force.   

12  
Love, and alliance, had most firmly joined  
Unto his part, that mighty family,  
The fair distended stock of neviles kind;  
Great by their many issued progeny:  
But greater by their worth (that clearly shined,  
And gave fair light to their nobility)  
So that each corner of the Land became  
Enriched with some great Worthy, of that name.   

13  
But greatest in renown doth Warwick sit;  
That brave King-maker Warwick; so far grown,  
In grace with Fortune, that he governs it,  
And monarches makes; and, made, again puts down.  
What revolutions, his first-moving wit  
Hear brought about, are more than too well known;  
The fatal kindle-fire of those hot days:  
Whose worth I may, whose work I cannot praise.   

14  
With him, with Richard, Earl of Salisbury,  
Courtny and brook, and other his dear friends;  
He intimates his mind; and openly  
The present bad proceed discommends;  
Laments the State, the people's misery,  
And (that which such a pitier seldom mends)  
Oppression, that sharp twoedged sword,  
That others wounds, and wounds likewise his Lord.   

15  
" My Lord; (saith he) how things are carried here,  
" In this corrupted State, you plainly see;  
" What burden our abused shoulders bear,  
" charged with the weight of imbecility:  
" And in what base account all we appear,  
" That stand without their grace that all must be;  
" And who they be, and how their course succeeds,  
" Our shame reports, and time bewrays their deeds.   

16  
" Anjou and Maine (the maim that foul appears;  
" Th'eternal scar of our dismembered Land)  
" given, all lost; that did, three hundred years,  
" remain subjecteth under our command.  
" From whence, I thinks, there sounds unto our ears  
" The voice of those dear ghosts, whose living hand  
" Got it with sweat, and kept it with their blood,  
" To do us (thankless us) their offspring good:   

17  
" And seem to cry; What? can you thus behold  
" Their hateful feet upon our graves should tread?  
" Your father's graves; who gloriously did hold  
" That, which your shame hath left recovered?  
" redeem our Tumbs, O spirits too too cold:  
" Pull-backe these towers, our arms have honoured.  
" These towers are yours: these Forts we built for you:  
" These walls do bear our names; and are your due.   

18  
" Thus, well they may upbraid our recklessness;  
" whilst we, as if at league with infamy,  
" riot away, for nought, whole provinces;  
" give-up, as nothing worth, all Normandy;  
" traffic important holds, sell Fortresses  
" So long, that nought is left but misery,  
" poor Calais, and these water-walles about,  
" That basely pound us in, from breaking out.   

19  
" And (which is worse) I fear, we shall in th'end  
" (thrown from the glory of invading war)  
" Beforc't our proper limits to defend;  
" Where, ever, men are not the same they are:  
" The hope of conquest, doth their spirits extend  
" Beyond the usual powers of valour, far.  
" For, more is he that ventureth for more,  
" than who fights, but for what he had before.   

20  
" Put-to your hands, therefore, to rescue now  
" endangered endangered State (dear Lords) from this disgrace:  
" And let us in our honour, labour how  
" To bring this scorned Land in better case.  
" No doubt, but God our action will allow,  
" That knows my right, and how they rule the place,  
" Whose weakeness calls-up our unwillingness;  
" As opening even the door to our redress.   

21  
" Though I protest, it is not for a crown  
" My soul is moved (yet, if it be my right,  
" I have no reason to refuse mine own)  
" But only these indignities to right.  
" And what if God (whose judgements are unknown)  
" Hath me ordained the man, that by my might  
" My Country shall be blest? If so it be;  
" By helping me, you raise yourselves with me.   

22  
Those, in whom, zeal and amity had bred 
The D. of York raiseth an Army in the marches of Wales, under pretext to remove divers counsellors sellers about the King, and to revenge the manifest injuries done to the Commonwealth: & withal, he publisheth a declaration of his loyalty, and the wrongs done him by his adversaries; offering to take his oath upon the blessed Sacrament, to have been ever true liegeman to the K. and so ever to continue. Which declaration, was written from his Castle of Ludlow, the 9 of Ianua. An. reg. 30.   
A fore-impression of the right he had,  
These stirring words so much encouraged,  
That (with desire of innovation mad)  
They seemed to runne-afore, not to be led;  
And to his fire do quicker fuel add:  
For, where such humours are prepared before;  
The opening them, makes them abound the more.   

23  
Then counsel take they, fitting their desire:  
(For, nought that fits not their desire is weighed)  
The Duke is strait advised to retire  
Into the bounds of Wales, to levy aid:  
Which under smooth pretence he doth require;  
T'amoue such persons as the State betrayed,  
And to redress th'oppression of the Land;  
The charm, which weakness seldom doth withstand.   

24  
Ten thousand, strait caught with this bait of breath,  
Are towards greater lookt-for forces led:  
Whose power, the King, by all means, travaileth  
In their arising to have ruined:  
But, their preventing Head so compasseth,  
That all ambushments warily are fled;  
Refusing aught to hazard by the way, 
The 16 of Febru. the K. with the D. of Somerset, & other LL set forward towards the Marches: but the D. of York, took other ways, and made up towards London.   
Keeping his greatness for a greater day.   

25  
And to the city strait directs his course;  
The city, seat of Kings, and Kings chief grace:  
Where, having found his entertainment worse  
By far, than he expected in that place;  
Much disappointed, draws from thence his force,  
And towards better trust, marcheth apace;  
And down in Kent (fatal for discontents)  
near to thy banks, fair Thames, doth pitch his tents.   

26  
And there, entrenched, plants his artillery;  
Artillery, th'infernal instrument, 
The use of Guns, and great Ordinance, began about this time, or not long before.   
New-brought from hell, to scourge mortality  
With hideous roaring, and astonishment:  
Engine of horror, framed to terrify  
And tear the Earth, and strongest towers to rent:  
Torment of Thunder, made to mock the skies;  
As more of power, in our calamities.   

27  
If that first fire (subtle Prometheus brought)  
Stolen out of heaven, did so afflict mankind,  
That ever since, plagued with a curious thought  
Of stirring search, could never quiet find;  
What hath he done, who now by stealth hath got  
Lightning and thunder both, in wondrous kind?  
What plague deserves so proud an enterprise?  
Tell Muse, and how it came, and in what wise.   

28  
It was the time, when fair Europa sat 
This principal part of Europe, which contained the most flourishing state of Christendom, was at this time in the hands of many several Princes, and Commonwealths, which quietly governed the same: for, being so many, and none overgreat, they were less attemptive to disturb others, & more careful to keep their own, with a mutual correspondence of amity. As Italy had then many more principalities & Commonwealths than it hath: Spain was divided into many kingdoms, France consisted of divers free Princes: Both the Germanies of many more governments.   
With many goodly Diadems addressed;  
And all her parts in flourishing estate  
Lay beautiful, in order, at their rest:  
No swelling member, unproportionate,  
Grown out of form, sought to disturb the rest:  
The less, subsisting by the greater's might;  
The greater, by the lesser kept upright.   

29  
No noise of tumult ever waked them all:  
Only, perhaps, some private jar within,  
For titles, or for confines, might befall;  
Which, ended soon, made better love begin:  
But no eruption did, in general,  
Break down their rest, with universal sin:  
No public shock disjointed this fair frame,  
Till Nemesis from out the Orient came;   

30  
Fierce Nemesis, mother of fate and change,  
Sword-bearer of th'eternal providence  
(That had so long, with such afflictions strange,  
Confounded Asia's proud magnificence,  
And brought foul impious barbarism to range  
On all the glory of her excellence)  
Turns her stern look at last unto the West;  
As grieved to see on earth such happy rest.   

31  
And for Pandora calleth presently  
(Pandora, Ioues fair gift, that first deceived  
Poor Epimetheus imbecility,  
That thought he had a wondrous boon received;  
By means whereof, curious mortality  
Was of all former quiet quite bereaved):  
To whom, being come, decked with all qualities,  
The wrathful goddess breaks out in this wise;   

32  
Dost thou not see in what secure estate  
Those flourishing fair Western parts remain?  
As if they had made covenant with Fate,  
To be exempted free from others pain;  
At-one with their desires, friends with Debate,  
In peace with Pride, content with their own gain,  
Their bounds contain their minds, their minds applied  
To have their bounds with plenty beautified.   

33  
Devotion (mother of Obedience)  
Bears such a hand on their credulity,  
That it abates the spirit of eminence,  
And busies them with humble piety.  
For, see what works, what infinite expense,  
What monuments of zeal they edify;  
As if they would, so that no stop were found,  
Fill all with Temples, make all holy ground.   

34  
But we must cool this all-believing zeal,  
That hath enjoyed so fair a turn so long;  
And other revolutions must reveal,  
Other desires, other designs among:  
Dislike of this, first by degrees shall steal  
Upon the souls of men, persuaded wrong: 
The Church.   
And that abused Power, which thus hath wrought,  
Shall give herself the sword to cut her throat.   

35  
Go therefore thou, with all thy stirring train  
Of swelling Sciences, the gifts of grief:  
Go lose the links of that soule-binding chain;  
Enlarge this uninquisitive belief:  
Call-up men's spirits, that simpleness retain:  
Enter their hearts, & Knowledge make the thief  
To open all the doors, to let in light;  
That all may all things see, but what is right.   

36  
Opinion arm against Opinion grown:  
Make new-born Contradiction still to rise;  
As if Thebes-founder, Cadmus, tongues had sown,  
Instead of teeth, for greater mutinies.  
Bring new-defended Faith, against Faith known:  
Weary the soul with contrarieties;  
Till all Religion become retrograde,  
And that fair tire, the mask of sin be made.   

37  
And, better to effect a speedy end,  
Let there be found two fatal Instruments,  
The one to publish, th'other to defend  
Impious Contention, and proud Discontents:  
Make, that instamped Characters may send  
Abroad, to thousands, thousand men's intent;  
And in a moment may dispatch much more,  
Then could a world of pens perform before.   

38  
Whereby, all quarrels, titles, secrecies,  
May unto all be presently made known;  
Factions prepared, parties allured to rise,  
Sedition under fair pretensions sown:  
Whereby, the vulgar may become so wise,  
That (with a self-presumption overgrown)  
They may of deepest mysteries debate,  
Control their betters, censure acts of State.   

39  
And then, when this dispersed mischief shall  
Have brought confusion in each mystery,  
called-up contempt of states in general,  
Ripened the humour of impiety;  
Then have they th'other engine, wherewithal  
They may torment their self-wrought misery,  
And scourge each other, in so strange a wise,  
As time or Tyrants never could devise.   

40  
For, by this stratagem, they shall confound  
All th'ancient form and discipline of war:  
Altar their Camps, altar their fights, their ground,  
Daunt mighty spirits, prowess and manhood mar:  
For, basest cowards from a far shall wound  
The most courageous, forced to fight afar;  
Valour, wrapped up in smoke (as in the night)  
Shall perish without witness, without sight.   

41  
But first, before this general disease  
Break forth into so great extremity,  
Prepare it by degrees; first kill this ease, 
The many States of Christendom reduced to a few.   
Spoil this proportion, mar this harmony:  
Make greater States upon the lesser seize:  
join many kingdoms to one sovereignty:  
Raise a few Great, that may (with greater power)  
Slaughter each other, and mankind devour.   

42  
And first begin, with factions to divide  
The fairest Land; that from her thrusts the rest,  
As if she cared not for the world beside;  
A world within herself, with wonders blest:  
Raise such a strife as time shall not decide,  
Till the dear blood of most of all her best  
Be poured forth; and all her people tossed  
With unkind tumults, and almost all lost.   

43  
Let her be made the sable Stage, whereon  
Shall first be acted bloody Tragedies;  
That all the neighbour States, gazing thereon,  
May make their profit, by her miseries:  
And those, whom she before had Marched upon,  
(having, by this, both time and mean to rise)  
Made martial by her arms, shall grow so great,  
As (save their own) no force shall them defeat:   

44  
That when their power, unable to sustain  
And bear itself, upon itself shall fall,  
She may (recovered of her wounds again)  
Sat and behold their Parts as tragical:  
For, there must come a time, that shall obtain  
Truce for distress; when make-peace Hymen shall  
Bring the conjoined adverse powers to bed,  
And set the crown (made one) upon one head.   

45  
Out of which blessed union, shall arise  
A sacred branch (with grace and glory blest)  
Whose Virtue shall her Land so patronize,  
As all our power shall not her days molest:  
For, she (fair she) the Minion of the skies,  
Shall purchase (of the highest) to hers such rest  
(Standing between the wrath of heaven and them)  
As no distress shall touch her Diadem:   

46  
And, from the rocks of safety, shall descry  
The wondrous wracks, that Wrath lays ruined;  
All round about her, blood and misery,  
Powers betrayed, Princes slain, Kings massacred,  
States all-confused, brought to calamity,  
And all the face of kingdoms altered:  
Yet, she the same inviolable stands,  
Dear to her own, wonder to other Lands.   

47  
But, let not her defence discourage thee.  
For, never one, but she, shall have this grace,  
From all disturbs to be so long kept free,  
And with such glory to discharge that place.  
And therefore, if by such a Power thou be  
Stopped of thy course, reckon it no disgrace;  
Sith she alone (being privileged from high)  
Hath this large Patent of her dignity.   

48  
This charge the goddess gave: when, ready strait  
The subtle messenger, accompanied  
With all her crew of arts that on her wait,  
Hastes to effect what she was counseled:  
And out she pours, of her immense conceit,  
Upon such searching spirits as travailed  
In penetrating hidden secrecies;  
Who soon these means of misery devise.   

49  
And boldly breaking with rebellious mind  
Into their mother's close-lockt treasury,  
They minerals combustible do find,  
Which in stopped concaves placed cunningly  
They fire: and fire, imprisoned against kind,  
Tears out a way, thrusts out his enemy;  
Barking with such a horror, as if wroth  
With man, that wrongs himself, and Nature both.   

50  
And this beginning had this cursed frame, 
The D. of York being not admitted into the city, passed over Kingston Bridge, and so into Kent, and on Brent heath near Dartf. pight his field. The K. makes after, and embattled upon black heath: from whence he sends the ' B. B. of Winchester and Ely with the E E. of Salisbury & Warwick to mediate a peace.   
Which York now planted hath against his King;  
Presuming, by his power, and by the same,  
His purpose unto good effect to bring;  
When divers of the gravest council came,  
Sent from the King, to understand what thing  
Had thrust him into these proceed bad,  
And what he sought, and what intent he had.   

51  
Who, with words mildly-sharpe, gently-severe,  
Wrought on those wounds that must be touched with heed;  
Applying rather salves of hope, then fear,  
Lest corrosives should desperate mischiefs breed.  
And, what my Lord (said they) should move you here,  
In this unseemly manner to proceed?  
Whose worth being such, as all the Land admires,  
Hath fairer ways than these, to your desires.   

52  
Will you, whose means, whose many friends, whose grace,  
Can work the world in peace unto your will,  
Take such a course, as shall your Blood deface,  
And make (by handling bad) a good Cause, ill?  
How many hearts hazard you in this case,  
That in all quiet plots would aid you still?  
Having in Court a party far more strong,  
Then you conceive, priest to redress your wrong.   

53  
Fie, fie! forsake this hateful course, my Lord:  
Down with these arms; that will but wound your Cause.  
What Peace may do, hazard not with the Sword:  
Lay down the force that from your force withdraws;  
And yield: and we will mediate such accord  
As shall dispense with rigour and the laws;  
And interpose this solemn faith of our  
Betwixt your fault, and the offended Power.   

54  
Which engines of protests, and proffers kind, 
And finding the Kentish men not to answer his expectation, and the King's forces far more than his, he willingly condescends to conditions of peace. Edmond D. of Sommerset of the house of Lancaster descended from John of Gaunt, was the especial man against whom he pretended his quarrel.   
Urged out of seeming grief and shows of love,  
So shook the whole foundation of his mind,  
As they did all his resolution move:  
And present seemed unto their course inclined,  
So that the King would Somerset remove;  
The man, whose most intolerable pride  
Trodden down his worth, and all good men's beside.   

55  
Which, they there vowed, should presently be done:  
For, what will not peace-lovers willing grant,  
Where dangerous events depend thereon,  
And men unfurnished, and the State in want?  
And if with words the conquest will be won,  
The cost is small: and who holds breath so scant  
As then to spare, though with indignity?  
" Better descend, than end, in majesty.   

56  
And hereupon the Duke dissolves his force,  
Submits him to the King, on public vow:  
The rather too, presuming on this course,  
For that his son, the Earl of March, was now  
With mightier powers abroad: which would enforce  
His peace; which else the King would not allow.  
For, seeing not all of him, in him, he hath,  
His death would but give life to greater wrath.   

57  
Yet, coming to the King, in former place  
(His foe) the Duke of Somerset he finds:  
Whom openly, reproaching to his face,  
He charged with treason in the highest kinds.  
The Duke returns like speeches of disgrace;  
And fiery words bewrayed their flaming minds:  
But yet the trial was for them deferred,  
Till fitter time allowed it to be heard.   

58  
At Westminster, a counsel, summoned,  
Deliberates what course the Cause should end  
Of th'apprehended Duke of York; whose head  
Doth now on others doubtful breath depend.  
Law fiercely urged his act, and found him dead:  
Friends failed to speak, where they could not defend:  
Only the King himself for mercy stood;  
As, prodigal of life, niggard of blood.   

59  
" And, as if angry with the laws of death,  
" Ah! why should you, said he, urge things so far?  
" You, that enured with mercenary breath,  
" And hired tongue, so peremptory are;  
" braving on him whom sorrow prostrateth:  
" As if you did with poor Affliction war,  
" And prey on frailty, folly hath betrayed;  
" Bringing the laws to wound, never to aid.   

60  
" Dispense sometime with stern severity:  
" Make not the laws still traps to apprehend:  
" Win grace upon the bad, with clemency.  
" mercy may mend; whom malice made offend.  
" Death gives no thanks; but checks authority:  
" And life doth only majesty commend.  
" revenge dies not; rigour begets new wrath:  
" And blood hath never glory; Mercy hath.   

61  
" And for my part (and my part should be chief)  
" I am most willing to restore his state:  
" And rather had I win him with relief,  
" Then lose him with despite, and get more hate.  
" pity draws love: bloodshed is nature's grief;  
" Compassion follows the unfortunate:  
" And, losing him, in him I lose my power.  
" We rule who live: the dead are none of our.   

62  
" And should our rigour lessen then the same,  
" Which we with greater glory should retain?  
" No; let him live: his life must give us fame;  
" The child of mercy newly borne again.  
" As often burials are Physicians shame;  
" So, many deaths argue a King's hard reign.  
" Why should we say, The Law must have her vigour?  
" The Law kills him; but quits not us of rigour.   

63  
" You, to get more preferment by your wit,  
" Others to gain the spoils of misery,  
" Labour with all your power to follow it;  
" showing us fears, to draw-on cruelty.  
" You urge th'offence, not tell us what is fit;  
" Abusing wrong-informed majesty:  
" As if our power, were only but to slay;  
" And that to save, were a most dangerous way.   

64  
Thus, out of pity, spoke that holy King:  
Whom mild affections led to hope the best;  
When Somerset began to urge the thing  
With words of hotter temper, thus expressed:  
" dear sovereign Lord, the Cause in managing  
" Is more than yours; 'timports the public rest:  
" We all have part; it toucheth all our good:  
" And life's ill spared, that's spared to cost more blood.   

65  
" Compassion, here, is cruelty my Lord;  
" pity will cut our throats, for saving so.  
" What benefit enjoy we by the sword,  
" If mischief shall escape to draw-on more?  
" Why should we give, what Law cannot afford,  
" To be accessaries to our proper woe?  
" wisdom must judge, 'twixt men apt to amend,  
" And minds incurable, borne to offend.   

66  
" It is no private Cause (I do protest)  
" That moves me thus to prosecute his deed.  
" Would God his blood, and mine, had well released  
" The dangers, that his pride is like to breed.  
" Although, at me, he seems to have addressed  
" His spite; 'tis not the end he hath decreed.  
" I am not he alone, he doth pursue:  
" But, thorough me, he means to shoot at you.   

67  
" For, thus, these great Reformers of a State  
" (Aspiring to attain the government)  
" Still take advantage of the people's hate,  
" Who ever hate such as are eminent.  
" (For, who can great affairs negotiate,  
" And all a way ward multitude content?)  
" And than these people-minions, they must fall  
" To worke-out us, to work themselves int'All.   

68  
" But note, my Lord, first, who is in your hand;  
" Then, how he hath offended, what's his end:  
" It is the man, whose Race would seem to stand  
" Before your Right, and doth a Right pretend:  
" Who (traitorlike) hath raised a mighty Band,  
" With colour, your proceed to amend.  
" Which if it should have happened to succeed,  
" You had not now sat to adjudge his deed.   

69  
" If oftentimes the person, not th'offence,  
" have been sufficient cause of death to some,  
" Where public safety puts in evidence  
" Of mischief, likely by their life to come;  
" Shall he, whose fortune, and his insolence,  
" have both deserved to die, escape that doom;  
" When you shall save your Land, your crown thereby;  
" And since You cannot live, unless He die?   

70  
Thus spoke the aggrieved Duke, that gravely saw  
Th'incompatible powers of Prince's minds;  
And what affliction his escape might draw  
Unto the State, and people of all kinds:  
And yet the humble yielding, and the awe,  
Which York there show'd, so good opinion finds,  
That (with the rumour of his sons great strength, 
The D. was suffered to go to his Castle at Wigmore.   
And French affairs) he there came quit at length.   

71  
For, even the fear t'exasperat the heat  
Of th'Earl of March, whose forward youth and might  
Well followed, seemed a proud revenge to threat,  
If any shame should on his Father light:  
And then desire in Gascoigne to reget  
The glory lost, which home-broyles hinder might,  
Advantaged the Duke, and saved his head;  
Which, questionless, had else been hazarded.   

72  
For, now had Bordeaux offered (upon aid) 
The city of Bordeaux send their Ambassadors offering to revolt from the French part if aid might be sent unto them: whereupon, John L. Talbot E. of Shrewbury was employed with a power of 3000 men, and surprised the city of Burdeux.   
Present revolt, if we would send with speed.  
Which fair advantage to have then delayed,  
Upon such hopes, had been a shameful deed.  
And therefore this, all other courses stayed,  
And outwardly these in ward hates agreed;  
Giving an interpause to pride and spite:  
Which breathed, but to breake-out with greater might.   

73  
Whilst dreadful Talbot, terror late of France,  
(Against the Genius of our Fortune) strove,  
The downe-throwne glory of our State t'advance;  
Where, France far more than France he now doth prove:  
For, friends, opinion, and succeeding chance  
(Which wrought the weak to yield, the strong to love)  
Were not the same, that he had found before  
In happier times; when, less would have done more.   

74  
For, both the Britain, and Burgonian now, 
The Dukes of Britain and Burgundy were great means in times past for the conquering of France.   
Came altered with our luck, and won with theirs  
(Those bridges, and the gates, that did allow  
So easy passage unto our affairs)  
judging it safer to endeavour how  
To link with strength, then lean unto despairs.  
" And, who wants friends, to back what he gins,  
" In Lands far off, gets not, although he wins.   

75  
Which too well proved this fatal enterprise,  
The last, that lost us all we had to lose,  
Where, though advantaged by some mutinies,  
And petty Lords, that in our Cause arose:  
Yet those great failed; whose ready quick supplies,  
Ever at hand, cheered us, and quailed our foes.  
Succours, from far, come seldom to our mind.  
" For, who holds league with Neptune, and the wind?   

76  
Yet, worthy Talbot, thou didst so employ 
The E. of Shrewsburie accompanied with his son Sir John Talbot, L. Lisle by the right of his wife, with the L. L. Molins, Harrington, and Cameis, Sir John Howard Sir John Vernon & others, recovered divers towns in Gascony: amongst other, the town, and Castle of Chastillon in Perigent which the French soon after besieged.   
The broken remnants of disscattered power,  
That they might see it was our destiny,  
Not want of spirit, that lost us what was our:  
Thy dying hand sold them the victory  
With so dear wounds, as made the conquest sour:  
So much it cost to spoil who were undone;  
And such ado to win, when they had won.   

77  
For, as a fierce courageous mastiff fares;  
That, having once sure fastened on his foe,  
lies tugging on that hold, never forbears,  
What force soever force him to for go:  
The more he feels his wounds, the more he dares;  
As if his death were sweet, in dying so:  
So held his hold this Lord, whilst he held breath;  
And scarce, but with much blood, let's go in death.   

78  
For, though he saw prepared, against his side,  
Both unlike fortune, and unequal force,  
Borne with the swelling current of their pride  
Down the main stream of a most happy course:  
Yet stands he stiff, undasht, unterrified;  
His mind the same, although his fortune worse:  
Virtue in greatest dangers being best shown;  
And though oppressed, yet never overthrown.   

79  
For, rescuing of besieged Chatillon  
(Where having first constrained the French to fly,  
And following hard on their confusion)  
Comes (lo) encountered with a strong supply  
Of fresh-arriving powers, that back thrust-on  
Those flying troops, another chance to try:  
Who, double armed, with shame, and fury, strain  
To wreak their foil, and win their fame again.   

80  
Which seeing, th'undaunted Talbot (with more might  
Of spirit to will, than hands of power to do)  
Preparing t'entertain a glorious fight,  
Cheeres-up his wearied soldiers thereunto.  
" Courage, saith he: those braving troops, in sight,  
" Are but the same, that now you did undo.  
" And what if there be come some more than they?  
" They come to bring more glory to the day.   

81  
" Which day, must either thrust us out of all;  
" Or all, with greater glory, back restore.  
" This day, your valiant worth adventure shall,  
" For what our Land shall never fight for, more.  
" If now we fail, with us is like to fall  
" All that renown which we have got before.  
" This is the last: if we discharge the same,  
" The same shall last to our eternal fame.   

82  
" never had worthy men, for any fact,  
" A more fair glorious theatre, than we;  
" Whereon true magnanimity might act  
" brave deeds, which better witnessed could be.  
" For, lo, from yonder Turrets, yet unsacked,  
" Your valiant fellows stand, your worth to see,  
" T'avouch your valour, if you live to gain;  
" And if we die, that we died not in vain.   

83  
" And even our foes (whose proud and powerful might  
" Would seem to swallow up our dignity)  
" Shall not keep-backe the glory of our right;  
" Which their confounded blood shall testify:  
" For, in their wounds, our gory swords shall write  
" The monuments of our eternity:  
" For, vile is honour, and a title vain,  
" The which, true worth and danger do not gain.   

84  
" For, they shall see, when we (in careless sort)  
" Shall throw ourselves on their despised spears.  
" 'tis not despair, that doth us so transport:  
" But even true Fortitude, that nothing fears;  
" Sith we may well retire us, in some sort:  
" But, shame on him that such a foul thought bears.  
" For, be they more, let Fortune take their part,  
" we'll tug her too, and scratch her, ere we part.   

85  
This said; a fresh infused desire of fame  
Enters their warmed blood, with such a will,  
That they deemed long, they were not at the game;  
And, though they marched apace, thought they stood still,  
And that their lingering foes too slowly came  
To join with them, spending much time but ill:  
Such force had words, fierce humours up to call,  
Sent from the mouth of such a general.   

86  
Who yet, his forces weighing (with their fire) 
The Lord Lisle was advised by his father to retire him out of the battle.   
Turns him about, in private, to his son  
(A worthy son, and worthy such a Sire)  
And telleth him, what ground he stood upon,  
Advising him in secret to retire;  
Considering how his youth, but now begun,  
Would make it unto him, at all, no stain:  
His death small fame, his flight no shame could gain.   

87  
To whom, th'aggrieved son (as if disgraced)  
" Ah Father, have you then selected me  
" To be the man, whom you would have displaced  
" Out of the roll of immortality?  
" What have I done this day, that hath defaced  
" My worth, that my hands work despised should be?  
" God shield, I should bear home a coward's name.  
" He long enough hath lived, who dies with fame.   

88  
At which, the Father, touched with sorrowing-ioy,  
Turned him about (shaking his head) and says;  
" O my dear son, worthy a better day,  
" To enter thy first youth, in hard assays.  
And now had Wrath, impatient of delay,  
Begun the fight, and farther speeches stays:  
Fury thrusts on; striving, whose sword should be  
First warmed, in the wounds of th'enemy.   

89  
Hotly these small, but mightie-minded, Bands.  
(As if ambitious now of death) do strain  
Against innumerable armed hands,  
And gloriously a wondrous fight maintain;  
Rushing on all whatever strength withstands,  
Whetting their wrath on blood, and on disdain;  
And so far thrust, that hard 'twere to descry  
Whether they more desire to kill, or die.   

90  
Frank of their own, greedy of others blood,  
No stroke they give, but wounds; no wound, but kills:  
near to their hate, close to their work they stood,  
Hit where they would, their hand obeys their wills;  
Scorning the blow from far, that doth no good,  
Loathing the crack, unless some blood it spills:  
No wounds could let-out life that wrath held in,  
Till others wounds, revenged, did first begin.   

91  
So much, true resolution wrought in those  
Who had made covenant with death before,  
That their small number (scorning so great foes)  
Made France most happy, that there were no more;  
And Fortune doubt to whom she might dispose  
That weary day; or unto whom restore  
The glory of a Conquest dearly bought,  
Which scarce the Conqueror could think well got.   

92  
For, as with equal rage, and equal might,  
Two adverse winds combat, with billows proud,  
And neither yield; Seas, skies maintain like fight,  
Wave against wave opposed, and cloud to cloud:  
So war both sides, with obstinate despite,  
With like revenge, and neither party bowed;  
Fronting each other with confounding blows,  
No wound, one sword, unto the other owes:   

93  
Whilst Talbot (whose fresh ardour having got  
A marvelous advantage of his years)  
Carries his unfelt age, as if forgot,  
Whirling about, where any need appears:  
His hand, his eye, his wits all present, wrought  
The function of the glorious Part he bears:  
Now urging here, now cheering there, he flies,  
Unlocks the thickest troops, where most force lies.   

94  
In midst of wrath, of wounds, of blood, and death,  
There is he most, where as he may do best:  
And there the closest ranks he severeth,  
Drives-back the stoutest powers, that forward priest:  
There makes his sword his way: there laboureth  
Th'infatigable hand that never ceased;  
Scorning, unto his mortal wounds to yield;  
Till Death became best master of the Field.   

95  
Then like a sturdy oak, that having long, 
The death of John L. Talbot E. of Shrewesburie; who had served in the wars of France most valiantly for the space of 30. years.   
Against the wars of fiercest winds, made head,  
When (withsome forced tempestuous rage, more strong)  
His down-borne top comes over-maistered,  
All the near bordering Trees (he stood among)  
Crushed with his weighty fall, lie ruined:  
So lay his spoils, all round about him slain,  
T'adorn his death, that could not die in vain.   

96  
On th'other part, his most all-daring son 
The death of the L Lisle, son to this worthy E. of Shrewesburie.   
(Although the inexperience of his years  
Made him less skilled in what was to be done;  
And yet did carry him beyond all fears)  
Into the main Battalion, thrusting on  
near to the King, amidst the chiefest peers,  
With thousand wounds, became at length oppressed;  
As if he scorned to die, but with the best.   

97  
Who thus both, having gained a glorious end,  
Soon ended that great day; that set so red,  
As all the purple plains, that wide extend,  
A sad tempestuous season witnessed.  
So much ado had toiling France to rend,  
From us, the right so long inherited:  
And so hard went we from what we possessed,  
As with it went the blood we loved best.   

98  
Which blood, not lost, but fast laid up with heed  
In everlasting fame, is there held dear, 
1453. An. reg. 32. Thus was the duchy of Aquitaine lost; which had remained in the possession of the Crown of England, by the space almost of 300 years. The right whereof came by the marriage of K Hen. 2. with Elenor, daughter to William D. of Aquitaine.   
To seal the memory of this days deed;  
Th'eternal evidence of what we were:  
To which, our Fathers, we, and who succeed,  
Do own a sigh, for that it touched us near:  
Nor must we sin so much, as to neglect  
The holy thought of such a dear respect.   

99  
Yet happy-hapless day, blest ill-lost breath,  
Both for our better fortune, and your ownel 
In this duchy, are 4. Archbishops, 24. Bishops, 50. earldoms, 202. Baronies, and above a 1000 captainships, and bailiwicks.   
For, what foul wounds, what spoil, what shameful death,  
Had by this forward resolution grown,  
If at S. Albon, Wakefield, Barnet-heath,  
It should unto your infamy been shown?  
Blessed you, that did not teach how great a fault  
Even Virtue is, in actions that are nought.   

100  
Yet, would this sad days loss had now been all,  
That this day lost: then should we not much plain,  
If hereby we had come but there to fall;  
And that day, ended, ended had our pain:  
Then small the loss of France, of given small;  
Nothing the shame to be turned home again,  
Compared with other shames. But now, France, lost,  
Sheds us more blood, than all her winning cost.   

101  
For, losing war abroad, at home lost peace;  
Being with our unsupporting selves close penned;  
And no designs for pride (that did increase)  
But our own throats; and our own punishment;  
The working spirit ceased not, though work did cease,  
Having fit time to practise discontent,  
And stir up such as could not long lie still:  
" Who, not employed to good, must needs do ill.   

102  
And now this grief of our received shame,  
Gave fit occasion, for ambitious care,  
To draw the chief reproach of all the same  
On such as obvious unto hatred are,  
Th'especial men of State: who, all the blame  
Of whatsoever Fortune doth, must bear.  
For, still, in vulgar ears delight it breeds, 
York procures the hatred of the people, against the Duke of Somerset: and so wrought (in a time of the King's sickness) that he caused him to be arrested in the Qu. great Chamber, and sent to the tower of London; accusing him to have been the occasion of the loss of France: but the K. being recovered, he was again set at liberty, Ann. reg. 32. The D. of York, perceiving his accusations not to prevail against the D. of Som. resolves to obtain his purpose by open war: and so being in Wales, accompanied with his special friends, assembled an army, & marched towards London.   
To have the hated, authors of misdeeds.   

103  
And therefore, easily, great Somerset  
(Whom envy long had singled out before)  
With all the volley of disgraces met,  
As th'only mark that Fortune placed therefore:  
On whose ill-wrought opinion, spite did whet  
The edge of wrath, to make it pierce the more:  
And grief was glad t'have gotten now on whom  
To lay the fault of what must light on some.   

104  
Whereon, th'again out-breaking York begins  
To build new modules of his old desire.  
And seeing the booty Fortune for him wins,  
Upon the ground of this in kindled ire,  
He takes th'advantages of others sins  
To aid his own, and help him to aspire.  
For, doubting, peace should better scan deeds past,  
He thinks not safe, to have his sword out, last:   

105  
Especially, since every man (now priest  
To innovation) do with rancour swell:  
A stirring humour generally possessed  
Those peace-spilt times, weary of being well:  
The weak with wrongs, the happy tired with rest,  
And many mad; for what, they could not tell:  
The World, even great with Change, thought it went wrong  
To stay beyond the bearing-time, so long.   

106  
And therefore now these Lords confedered  
(being much increased in number and in spite)  
So shaped their course, that gathering to a head,  
They grew to be of formidable might:  
Th'abused world, so hastily is led  
(Some for revenge, some for wealth, some for delight)  
That York, from small-beginning troops, soon draws  
A world of men, to venture in his Cause.   

107  
Like as proud Severne, from a private head,  
With humble streams at first, doth gently glide,  
Till other rivers have contributed  
The springing riches of their store beside;  
Wherewith at length highswelling, she doth spread,  
Her broad-distended waters laid so wide, 
K. Hen. sets forward from London with 20000 men of war, to encounter with the D. of York; attended with Humf. D. of Buckingh. and Humphrey his son, E. Stafford, Edm. D. of summers. Hen. Percy, E. of North. ja. Butler. E. of Wiltsh. & Ormond, Jasper, E. of Pembroke, the son of Owen Tewder, half brother to the K. Tho. Courtney, E. of Devonsh. Joh. L. Clifford, the L. L. Sudley, Barnes, Ross, & others.   
That coming to the Sea, she seems, from far,  
Not to have tribute brought, but rather war:   

108  
Even so is York now grown, and now is bend  
T'encounter with the best, and for the best.  
Whose near approach the King hastes to prevent,  
With hope, far off to have his power suppressed;  
Fearing the city, lest some insolent,  
And mutinous, should hearten on the rest  
To take his part. But he so forward set,  
That at S. Alban's both the Armies met.   

109  
Whereto, their haste far fewer hands did bring,  
Then else their better leisure would have done:  
And yet too many for so foul a thing;  
Sith who did best, hath but dishonour won:  
For, whilst some offer peace, sent from the King,  
Warwick's too forward hand hath war begun;  
A war, that doth the face of war deform:  
Which still is foul; but foulest, wanting form.   

110 
The D. of York, with the L L. pitched their battle without the town, in a place called Keyfield: and the K. power (to their great disadvantage) took up the town: where being assailed & wanting room to use their power, were miserably overthrown & slaughtered. On the K. side, were slain Edm. D. of summers. who left behind him 3 sons, Henry, Edm. & joh. here was also slain, the E. of Northumberland, the E. Stafford, the L. Clifford, Sir Rob. Vere, with divers others to the number of 5000: & on the L L. part, but 600. And this was the first battle at S. Alban's, the 23 of May, Ann. reg. 33. The D. of York, with other L L. came to the K. where he was, and craved grace & forgiveness on their knees, of that that they had done in his presence, intending nothing but for the good of him and his kingdom: with whom they removed to London; concluding there to hold a Parliament, the 9 of July following.   
And, never valiant Leaders (so well known  
For brave performed actions done before)  
Did blemish their discretion and renown  
In any weak effected service more;  
Bringing such powers into so strait a town,  
As to some Citty-tumult or uproar:  
Which, slaughter, and no battle, might be thought;  
Sith that side used their swords, and this their throat.   

111  
But this, on th'error of the King, is laid,  
And upon Sommersets desire t'obtain  
The day with peace: for which they longer stayed  
Then wisdom would, aduent'ring for the main:  
Whose force, in narrow streets once over-laid,  
Never recovered head: but even there slain  
The Duke and all the greatest Leaders are;  
The King himself being taken prisoner.   

112  
Yet not a prisoner to the outward eye,  
Forthat he must seem graced with his lost day;  
All things being done for his commodity,  
Against such men as did the State betray:  
For, with such apt deceiving clemency  
And seeming order, York did so allay  
That touch of wrong, as made him make great stealth  
In weaker minds, with show of commonwealth.   

113  
Long-lookt-for power thus got into his hand,  
The former face of Court doth new appear:  

* Ric. E. of Salisbury. made L. chancellor. & the E. of Warwick. Governor of Calais.  And all th'especial Charges of command,  
To his partakers distributed were:  
Himself is made Protector of the landlord.  
A title found, which covertly did bear  
All-working power under another style;  
And yet the sovereign Part doth act the while.   

114  
The King held only but an empty name,  
Left, with his life: whereof the proof was such,  
As sharpest pride could not transpierce the same,  
Nor all-desiring greediness durst touch:  
Impiety had not enlarged their shame  
As yet so wide, as to attempt so much:  
Mischief was not full ripe, for such foul deeds;  
Left, for th'unbounded malice that succeeds.   
The end of the sixth book.   

THE SEVENTH book.  
THE argument.  

The King's reprized: York, and his side retires;  
And making head again, is put to flight:  
Returns into the Land, his right requires:  
Having regained the King, confirms his right:  
And, whilst his rash improvidence aspires,  
Is slain at Wakefield, by Q. Marg'rets' might:  
Who, at S. Alban's, back her Lord regains;  
Is forced from thence: & March the crown attains.   

1 
The D. of York, in respect that K. Hen. for his holiness of life, and clemency, was highly esteemed of the Commons, durst not attempt any violent course against his person: but only labours to strengthen his own party: which he could not do, but by the oppression and displacing of many worthy men; with committing other violences, whereunto necessity enforced him, for the preferment of his friends. which raised a greater party against him, then that he made.   
DIsordinate authority, thus gained,  
Knew not at first, or durst not to proceed  
With an out-breaking course; but stood restrained  
Within the compass of respective heed:  
Distrust of friends, and power of foes, detained  
That mounting will, from making too much speed:  
For, though he held the power he longed to win,  
Yet had not all the keys to let him in.   

2  
The Queen abroad, with a revenging hand  
(armed with her own disgrace, and others spite,  
Gathering th'oppressed party of the Land)  
Held over him the threatening sword of might;  
That forced him, in the terms of awe, to stand  
(Who else had burst-up Right, to come t'his right)  
And kept him so confused, that he knew not  
To make use of the means, which he had got.   

3  
For, either by his fearing to restrain  
The person of the King; or by neglect  
Of guarding him with a sufficient train,  
The watchful Queen, with cunning, doth effect  
A practice that recovers him again  
(As one that with best care could him protect:)  
And he's conveyed to coventry, to those  
Who well knew how of majesty dispose.   

4  
Though this weak King had blunted thus before  
The edge of power, with so dull clemency,  
And left him nothing else was gracious, more  
Than even the title of his Sov'raigntie;  
Yet is that title of so precious store,  
As it makes, golden, leaden majesty:  
And where, or howsoever it doth sit,  
Is sure t'have the world attend on it.   

5  
Whether it be, that form, and Eminence,  
Adorned with Pomp and State, begets this awe:  
Or, whether an inbred obedience  
To Right and power, doth our affections draw:  
Or, whether sacred King's work reverence,  
And make that Nature now, which was first Law,  
We know not: but, the Head will draw the Parts;  
And good Kings, with our bodies, have our hearts.   

6  
For, lo, no sooner was his person joined 
The Queen with her Party, having recovered the K. and withdrawing him far from Lon. (where they found the D. of York was too much favoured by the citizens) grew to be very strong, by means that so many Ll. and much people, oppressed & discontented with these proceed of their enemies, resorted daily unto them. Whereupon, the K. summoned the D. & his adherents, to appear before him at coventry: but they, finding their present strength, not sufficient to make good their answer, retired themselves into several parts. The D. of York withdraws him to Wigmore, in Wales: the E. of Salisb. into the North, the E. of Warw. to Calais.   
With this distracted body of his friends;  
But, strait the Duke, and all that faction find,  
They lost the only engine for their ends:  
Authority, with majesty combined,  
Stands bend upon them now, and powerful sends  
Them summons to appear, who lately held  
That power themselves, and could not be compelled.   

7  
Wherewith confused, as either not prepared  
For all events; or seeing the times not fit;  
Or men's affections, failing in regard;  
Or their own forces, not of power as yet:  
They all retire them home; and neither dared  
T'appear, or to stand-out to answer it.  
This unfore-thought-on accident, confounds  
All their designs, and frustrates all their grounds:   

8  
As usually it fares, with those that plot  
These machine's of Ambition, and high pride;  
Who (in their chiefest counsels overjoyed)  
For all things save what serve the turn, provide;  
Whilst that, which most imports, rests most forgot,  
Or weighed not, or contemned, or undescried;  
That something may be ever over-gone,  
Where courses shall be crossed, and men undone.   

9  
York into Wales, Warwick to Calais hies,  
Some to the North, others to other parts;  
As if they ran both from their dignities,  
And also from themselves, and their own hearts:  
" (The mind decayed, in public jeopardies,  
" To th'ill at hand, only itself converts)  
That none would think, York's hopes, being so near dry,  
Can ever flow again, and swell so high.   

10  
And yet, for all this ebbing Chance, remains  
The spring that feeds that hope (which leaves men last):  
Whom no affliction so entire restrains,  
But that it may remount, as in times past:  
Though he had lost his place, his power, his pains;  
Yet held his love, his friends, his title fast:  
The whole frame of that fortune could not fail;  
As that, which hung by more than by one nail.   

11  
Else might we think, what error had it been,  
These parts thus sev'red, not t'have quite destroyed;  
But that they saw it not the way to win.  
Some more dependences there were beside:  
Which, Age, and Fate, keeps us from looking in,  
That their true counsels come not right descried;  
Which, our presumptuous wits must not condemn:  
They being not ignorant; but we, of them.   

12  
For, here, we look upon another Crown,  
another image of nobility  
(Which civil Discord had not yet brought down  
Unto a lower range of dignity);  
Upon a power as yet not overflown  
With th'Ocean of all-drowning sovereignty.  
These Lords, who thus against their Kings draw swords,  
Taught Kings to come, how to be more than Lords.   

13  
Which well this Queen observed; and therefore sought 
divers grave persons were sent to the D. of York to mediate a reconciliation: and a great council was called at London, Ann. reg. 36, to agree all differences: wither came the E. of Salis. with 500 men, the D. of York with 400. and was lodged at his house, at Bainard's Castle.   
To draw them in, and ruin them with Peace;  
Whom Force (she saw) more dangerous had wrought,  
And did their power and malice but increase:  
And therefore, to the city having got,  
A counsel was convoked, all jars to cease:  
Where come these Lords at length; but yet so strong,  
As if to do, rather than suffer wrong.   

14  
Here Scottish border broils, and fears of France,  
Urged with the present times necessity,  
Brought forth a suttle-shadowed countenance  
Of quiet peace, resembling amity;  
Wrapped in a strong and curious ordinance,  
Of many Articles, bound solemnly:  
As if those Gordian knots could be so tied, 
The Dukes of Excester, and Somerset, with 800. men, lodged without Temple Bar. The E. of Northun. the L L Egremont & Clifford ford with 1500, & lodged without the city: The E. of Warwick from Calais with 600. men all in his livery. The L. Mayor kept continual watch with 2000 men in armour during the treaty. wherein by the great travail & exhortation of the Archbishop of Canterbury, with other grave Prelates, a reconciliation was concluded, and celebrated with a solemn procession.   
As no impatient sword could them divide:   

15  
Especially, whereas the self same ends  
Concur not in a point of like respect;  
But that each party covertly intends  
Thereby their own designments to effect:  
Which Peace, with more endangering wounds, offends,  
Then war can do; that stands upon suspect,  
And never can be tied with other chain,  
Then intermutuall benefit and gain.   

16  
As well by this concluded Act is seen:  
Which had no power to holde-in minds, out-bent;  
But quickly was dissolved and canceled clean,  
Either by Warwick's fortune or intent.  
How ever urged, the servants of the Queen  
Assaulted his, as he from counsel went:  
Where, his own person, eagerly pursued,  
Hardly (by boat) escaped the multitude.   

17  
Which deed, most heinous made, and urged as his,  
The Queen (who soon th'advantage apprehends)  
Thought forthwith t'have committed him on this:  
But, he prevents, flies northward to his friends,  
Shows them his danger, and what hope there is 
The E. of Warwick is set upon by the Queen's servants.   
In her, that all their overthrows intends;  
" And that these drifts th'effects of this Peace are:  
" Which gives more deadly wounding blows, than war.   

18  
Struck with his heat, began the others fire  
(Kindled with danger, and disdain) t'inflame:  
Which having well prepared, to his desire,  
He leaves the farther growing of the same,  
And unto Calais (to his strong retire)  
With speed betakes him, to prevent the same  
Of his imposed offence; lest, in disgrace,  
He might be dispossessed of that place.   

19  
York strait advised the Earl of Salisbury,  
T'address him to the King: and there upon,  
With other grievances, to signify  
Th'injurious act committed on his son;  
And there, to urge the breach of th'amity,  
By these sinister plots to be begun:  
But, he so strongly goes, as men might guess,  
He purposed not to crave, but make redress.   

20  
Whom, the Lord Audly, hasting to restrain, 
James Tuichet L. Audly slain at Blore heath and his army discomfited by the E. of Salisb. with the loss of 2400. men. An. reg. 38.   
(Sent, with ten thousand men, well furnished)  
Encountered on Blore-heath; where he is slain,  
And all his power and force discomfited:  
Which chance, so opened and let-out again  
The hopes of York (whom Peace had fettered)  
That he resolves, whatever should befall,  
To set up's Rest, to venture now for all.   

21  
Fury, untied, and broken out of bands,  
Runs desperate presently to either head:  
Faction and war (that never wanted hands  
For blood and mischief) soon were furnished:  
Affection finds a side: and out it stands;  
Not by the Cause, but by her interest led:  
And many, urging war, most forward are;  
" Not that't is just, but only that 'tis war.   

22  
Whereby, the Duke is grown t'a mighty head  
In Shropshire, with his Welsh and Northern aid:  
To whom came Warwick, having ordered  
His charge at Calais; and with him conveyed  
Many brave Leaders, that adventured 
Sir Andrew Trollop, afterward fled to the King. John Blunt remained with the Lords.   
Their fortunes on the side that he had laid:  
Whereof as chief, Trollop and Blunt excelled:  
But, Trollop failed his friends; Blunt faithful held.   

23  
The King (provoked these mischiefs to prevent,  
Followed with Somerset and Excester)  
Strongly appointed, all his forces bend,  
Their malice to correct or to deter:  
And, drawing near, a reverent Prelate sent 
The King, being at Worcester, sends the B. of Salisbury to the L L. to induce them to peace, & to offer pardon.   
To proffer pardon, if they would refer  
Their Cause to Peace; as being a cleaner course  
Unto their ends, than this foul barbarous force.   

24  
" For, what a war, said he, is here begun,  
" Where even the victory is held accursed?  
" And whoso wins, it will be so ill won,  
" That though he have the best, he speeds the worst.  
" For, here your making, is, to be undone;  
" Seeking t'obtain the State, you lose it first:  
" Both sides being one, the blood consumed all one;  
" To make it yours, you work to have it none.   

25  
" leave then with this, though this be yet a stain  
" T'attempt this sin, to be so near a fall.  
" The doubtful die of war, cast at the main,  
" Is such, as one bad chance may lose you all.  
" A certain sin, seeks an uncertain gain:  
" Which, got, yourselves even wail and pity shall.  
" No way, but Peace, leads out from blood and fears;  
" To free yourselves, the Land, and us, from tears.   

26  
Whereto the discontented part replies;  
" That they, hereto by others wrongs enforced,  
" Had no way else but these extremities,  
" And worst meants of redress, t'avoid the worst.  
" For, since that peace did but their spoils devise,  
" And held them out from grace (as men divorced  
" From th'honours, that their fortunes did afford)  
" Better die with the sword, then by the sword.   

27  
" For, if pacts, vows, or oaths, could have done aught,  
" There had enough been done: but, to no end  
" save to their ruin, who had ever sought  
" To avoid these broils, as grieving to contend;  
" smothering disgraces, drawing to parts remote,  
" As exiled men: where now they were, to attend  
" His Grace with all respect, and reverence;  
" Not with the sword of malice, but defence.   

28  
Whereby, they showed, that words were not to win: 
The Bishop of Salisbury offered pardon, to all such as would submit themselves   
But yet the Pardon works so feelingly,  
That to the King, that very night, came-in  
Sir Andrew Trollop, with some company,  
Contented to redeem his sin with sin;  
Disloyalty, with infidelity:  
And, by this means, became discovered quite  
All th'orders of th'intended next days fight.   

29  
Which so much wrought upon their weakened fears, 
The D. of York, with his youngest son the E of Rutland, withdrew him into Ireland where he was exceedingly beloved.   
That presently their camp broke up, ere day;  
And every man with all his speed prepares,  
According to their course, to shift their way.  
York, with his youngest son, tow'ards Ireland bears;  
Warwick to Calais, where his safety lay;  
To that sure harbour of conspiracy,  
Envies retreat, Rebellions nursery.   

30  
Which fatal place, seems that with either hand  
Is made t'offend. For, France sh'afflicts with th'one: 
The inconveniences of Calais at that time.   
And with the other, did infest this Land;  
As if ordained to do good to none:  
But, as a Gate to both our ills did stand,  
To let-out plagues on us, and int'her own:  
A part without us, that small good hath been;  
But to keep, less entire, the whole within.   

31  
And there, as in their all and best support,  
Is Warwick got, with March and Salisbury;  
When all the Gates of England, every Port  
And Shore close-shut, debars their reentry;  
Locked out from all; and all left in that sort,  
As no means seems can aid their misery.  
This wound, given without blow, weakens them more,  
Then all their loss of blood had done before.   

32  
For, now again upon them frowningly  
Stands power with Fortune, trampling on their States;  
And brands them with the marks of Infamy;  
Rebellions, Treasons, and Assassinats;  
Attaints their blood, in all posterity;  
Ransacks their Lands, spoils their confederates;  
And lays so hideous colours on their crimes,  
As would have terrified more timorous times;   

33  
But, here could do no good: for why? this Age,  
Being in a course of motion, could not rest,  
Until the revolution of their rage  
Came to that point, whereto it was addressed.  
Misfortune, crosses, ruin, could not suage  
That heat of hope, or of revenge, at least.  
" The World, once set a-work, cannot soon cease;  
" Nor ever is the same, it is in peace.   

34  
For, other motions, other interests here,  
The acting spirits up and awake do keep:  
" Faith, friendship, honour is more sure, more dear,  
" And more itself, then when it is asleep:  
Worth will stand-out, and doth no shadows fear:  
Disgraces make impressions far more deep;  
When Ease, ore it will stir, or break her rest,  
Lies still, bears all, content to be oppressed.   

35  
York, and his side, could not, while life remained,  
Though thus dispersed, but work and interdeale:  
Nor any sword, at home, could keep restrained  
Th'out-breaking powers of this innated zeal.  
This humour had so large a passage gained,  
On th'inward body of the commonweal;  
That 'twas impossible to stop, by force,  
This current of affections violent course.   

36 
Hen. the young D. of summers. was, in An. reg. 37, made Captain of Calais & a privy seal sent to the E. of Warwick, to discharge him of that place: who, in respect he was made captain there by Parliament, would not obey the privy seal.   
Yet they at home (disorder to keep forth)  
Did all what power could do, or wit invent;  
Placed, in th'avoided rooms, men of great worth;  
Young Somerset, with strength to Calais sent;  
Northumberland and Clifford to the North;  
(Whereof They only had the government)  
Defend all landings, bar all passages,  
Strive to redress the public grievances:   

37  
And, to this end, summon a parliament:  
Wherein, whenas the godly King would not,  
Unto th'attainder of the Lords, consent;  
The Queen in grief (and in her passions hot) 
The Parliament at coventry.   
Breaks out in speech, lovingly violent:  
" And what (saith she) my Lord, have you forgot  
" To rule and be a King? Why will you thus  
" Bemilde to them, and cruel unto us?   

38  
" What good have you procured by clemency,  
" But given to wild presumption much more head?  
" And now what cure, what other remedy  
" Can to our desperate wounds be ministered?  
" Men are not good, but for necessity;  
" Nor orderly are ever borne, but bred.  
" Sad want, and poverty, makes men industrious:  
" But, Law must make them good, and fear obsequious.   

39  
" My Lord; he governs well, that's well obeyed:  
" And temp'rat Rigour ever safely sits.  
" For, as to him, who Cotis did upbraid,  
" And called his rigour, madness, raging fits; 
Cotis, a Tyrant of Thrace.   
" Content thee, thou unskilful man, he said,  
" My madness keeps my subjects in their wits:  
" So, to like course my Lord, y'are forced to fall;  
" Or else you must, in th'end, undo us all.   

40  
" look but, I pray, on this dear part of you;  
" This branch (sprung from your blood) your own aspect:  
" look on this child, and think what shall ensue  
" To this fair hope of ours, by your neglect.  
" Though you respect not us, wrong not his due,  
" That must his right, left you, from you expect;  
" The right of the renowned Lancaster's,  
" His father's fathers, and great grandfathers.   

41  
" Then turns t'her son: O son! dost thou not see?  
" He is not moved, nor touched, nor weighs our tears.  
" What shall I do? What hope is left for me,  
" When he wants will to help, & thou want'st years?  
" can yet these hands of thine but partners be  
" In these my labours, to keep-out our fears,  
" How well were I? that now alone must toil,  
" And turn, and toss; and yet undone the while.   

42  
" I know, if thou couldst help, thy mother thus  
" Should not beyond her strength endure so much;  
" Nor these proud Rebels, that would ruin us,  
" escape with their heinous treasons, without touch:  
" I know, thou wouldst conceive how dangerous  
" Mercy were unto those, whose hopes are such;  
" And not preserve whom Law hath overthrown,  
" saving their livelihood, to lose our own.   

43  
" But, sith thou canst not, nor I able am,  
" Thou must no more expect of me, dear Son;  
" Nor yet, in time to come, thy Mother blame,  
" If thou, by others weakness be undone.  
" The world, with me, must testify the same,  
" That I have done my best, what could be done;  
" And have not failed, with hazard of my life,  
" The duty of a mother and a wife.   

44  
" But well; I see which way the world will go:  
" And let it go: and so turns her about,  
" Full, with stout grief, and with disdainful woe;  
" Which, now, her words shut-vp, her looks let-out.  
" The cast of her side-bended eye, did show  
" Both sorrow and reproof; seeing so great doubt,  
" And no power to redress, but stand and vex,  
" Imprisoned in the setters of her sex.   

45  
Yet, so much wrought these moving arguments 
At this Parliament at coventry, in the year 1459, in the 38 of Hen. 6. is Ric. D. of York, with his son Edw. and all his posterity, and partakers, attainted, to the ninth degree, their goods and possessions escheated, their tenants spoiled of their goods, the town of Ludlow pertaining to the D. of York ransacked, and the Duchess of York spoiled of her goods. Henry D. of Somerset with the L L. Audly, and Ross attempted the town of Calais, but were repulsed; his people yielding themselves to the E. of War and himself hardly escaped.   
(drawn from that blood, where Nature urged her Right)  
As his all-upward tending zeal relents;  
And, downward to his State, declines his sight:  
And so, to their Attainders he consents;  
Provided, He, on their submission, might  
Out of his Princely power, in his own name,  
Without a parliament, revoke the same.   

46  
Whilst Somerset with main endeavour lay  
To get his given (but ungot) government,  
The stout Calisians (bend another way)  
Fiercely repel him, frustrate his intent:  
Yet takes he Guines, landing at Whitsandbay:  
Whereas the sword, he brought, would not consent  
To wound his foes: the fight no rancour hath:  
Malice was friends: and war was without wrath.   

47  
Though he their hands, yet Warwick had their hearts:  
To whom both men and shipping they betrayed;  
Whilst England's (though debarred) shore imparts,  
To him, herother-where intended aid:  
For, the Lord Rivers, passing to those parts, 
The L. rivers, and his son Sir Antony Wooduill, were taken by John Dinham, at Sandwich; whether they were sent to guard the town, and supply the D. of Somerset.   
T'have fresh supplies unto the Duke conveyed;  
At Sandwich, with his son accompanied,  
Staying for wind, was taken in his bed.   

48  
Whose shipping, and provisions, Warwick takes  
For Ireland, with his chieftain to confer:  
And within thirty days this voyage makes, 
The E. of Warwick sailed into Ireland to confer with the D. of York.   
And backe-returnes, ere known to have been there:  
So that the heavens, the sea, the wind partakes  
With him; as if they of his faction were;  
Or that his spirit and valour were combined,  
With destiny, t'effect what he designed.   

49  
Which working, though without, and on the shore,  
Reached yet unto the centre of the Land;  
Searched all those humours that were bred before;  
Shakes the whole frame, whereon the State did stand;  
" Affection, pity, fortune, fear being more  
" far off and absent, than they are at hand.  
" pity becomes a traitor with th'oppressed:  
" And many have been raised, by being suppressed.   

49  
For, they had left, although themselves were gone,  
Opinion and their memory behind.  
Which so prevails, that nought could here be done,  
But strait was known as soon as once designed:  
Court, councel-chamber, Closet, all were won,  
To be revealers of the Prince's mind:  
So false is Faction, and so smooth a liar,  
As that it never had a side entire.   

50  
Whereby, th'exiledexiled had leisure to prevent, 
The L. Faulconbridge, sent to Sandwich, took the town and Sir Simon Monfort governor thereof.   
And cirumvent, whatever was devised:  
Which made, that Faulconbridge, to Sandwich bent,  
That fortress and the governor surprised;  
Who, presently from thence to Calais sent,  
Had his unguilty blood there sacrificed:  
And Faulconbridge, returning back, relates  
Th'affection here, and zeal of all estates.   

51  
Drawn with which news, and with a spirit that dared  
T'attempt on any likelihood of support;  
They take th'advantage of so great regard;  
Their landing here secured them in such sort,  
By Faulconbridge; the fatal bridge prepared  
To be the way of blood, and to transport  
Returning fury to make greater wounds  
Then ever England saw within her bounds.   

52  
And but with fifteen hundred men do land,  
Upon a Land, with many millions stored:  
So much, did high-presuming Courage stand  
On th'aid, home-disobedience would afford.  
Nor were their hopes deceived: for, such a hand  
Had innovation ready for the sword,  
As ere they near unto the city drew,  
Their power beyond all former greatness grew.   

53  
Muse, what may we imagine was the Cause  
That fury works thus universally?  
What humour, what affection, is it, draws  
Sides, of such power, to this nobility?  
Was it their Conscience, to redress the laws;  
Or malice, to a wrong-placed sovereignty,  
That caused them (more than wealth, or life) desire  
Destruction, ruin, bloodshed, sword and fire?   

54  
Or was the power of Lords (thus inter-placed  
Betwixt the height of Princes, and the State)  
Th'occasion that the people so embraced  
Their actions, and attend on this Debate?  
Or had their greatness, with their Worth, embased  
The Touch of royalty to so low rate,  
As their opinion could such tumults move?  
Then power, and Virtue, you contagious prove.   

55  
And Periander's levelled ears of corn  
Show what is fittest for the public Rest;  
And that the highest Minions which adorn  
A commonweal (and do become it best)  
Are zeal and justice, Law, and customs, borne  
Of high descent; that never do infest  
The Land with false suggestions, claims, affrights,  
To make men lose their own, for others rights.   

56  
But now, against this disproportion, bends 
The King, from coventry sends the L. scales, the L. Lovel, the E. of Kendal, to London, with others, to keep the city in obedience.   
The feeble King all his best industry:  
And, from abroad, scales, Lovel, Kendal, sends,  
To hold the city in fidelity;  
The city, which before (for others ends)  
Was wrought to leave the part of royalty:  
Where, though the King's command was of no power;  
Yet work these Lords so, that they took the tower:   

57  
And, from thence, labour to bring-in again 
The E E. of March, warwick, and Salisbury, landing at Sandwich, were met by the Archb. of Cant. who with his cross borne before him accompanied them to London. An. reg. 38.   
The outlet will of disobediencie;  
Send terror, threats, entreaties; but in vain:  
Warwick, and March, are with all jollity  
And grace received. The cities love did gain  
The best part of a crown: for whose defence,  
And entertaining still, stays Salisbury,  
Whilst March, and Warwick other fortunes try; 
The affection which the city of London bore to the D. of York was an especial mean for the raising of that line, to the crown. The E. of Salisbury left to keep the city.    

58  
Conducting their fresh troops against their King  
(Who leaves a woman to supply his steed):  
And near Northhampton, both embattling,  
Made, now, the very heart of England bleed:  
Where, what strange resolutions both sides bring,  
And with what deadly rancour they proceed, 
The battle of Northhampton.   
Witness the blood there shed, and foully shed;  
That cannot, but with sighs, be registered.   

59  
There, Buckingham, Talbot, and Egremont, 
The D. of Bucking. the E. of shrews: the L. Egremont, John Vicont Bewmont, Sir William Lucy slain.   
Bewmont, and Lucy; parts of Lancaster  
(Parts most important, and of chief account)  
In this unhappy day, extinguished are.  
There, the Lord Grey, (whose faith did not amount 
The L. Edmond Grey of Ruthen who led the vanguard of K. Henry withdrew himself and took part with the L L.   
Unto the trust committed to his care)  
Betrays his King, borne to be strangely tossed;  
And, late again attained, again is lost.   

60  
Again is lost this outside of a King  
Ordained for others uses, not his own: 
The King is conveyed to London, the tower yielded up to the Lords, and the L. scales who kept it, is murdered.   
Who, to the part that had him, could but bring  
A feeble body only, and a crown;  
But yet was held to be the dearest thing  
Both sides did labor-for, so much; to crown  
Their Cause with the apparency of might:  
From whom, and by whom, they must make their Right;   

61  
When he himself (as if he nought esteemed  
The highest crown on earth) continues one;  
Weak to the world: which, his Religion deemed  
Like to the breath of man; vain, and soon gone:  
whilst the stout Queen, by speedy flight redeemed  
The safety of herself, and of her son:  
And, with her, Somerset to Durham fled; 
The D. of Somerset.   
Her powers, suppressed, her heart unvanquished.   

62  
So much for absent York, is acted here,  
Attending English hopes, on th' Irish coast.  
Which when, unlookt-for, they related were,  
Ambition (still on horseback) comes in post,  
And seems with greater glory to appear;  
As made the more, by being so long time lost:  
And to the parliament with state is led,  
Which his associates had fore-summoned.   

63  
And, come into the Chamber of the peers,  
He sets himself down, in the chair of State:  
Where, such an unexpected face appears  
Of an amazed Court, that gazing sat  
With a dumb silence (seeming, that it fears  
The thing it went about t'effectuate)  
As if the Place, the Cause, the Conscience, give  
Bars to the words, their forced course should have.   

64  
'tis strange, those times, which brought such hands for blood,  
Had not bred tongues to make good any side;  
And that no prostituted conscience stood,  
Any injustice to have iustifid  
(As men of the forelone hope, only good  
In desperatest acts to be employed)  
And that none, in th'assembly there, was found,  
That would t'ambitious descant give a ground:   

65  
That even himself (forced of necessity)  
Must be the Orator of his own Cause.  
For, having viewed them all, and could espy  
None proffering once to speak (all, in a pause)  
On this friend looks with an inviting eye,  
And then on that (as if he wooed applause)  
Holding the cloth of State still in his hand;  
The sign, which he would have them understand.   

66  
But seeing none move; with an imperial port,  
Gathering his spirits, he rises from his seat;  
Doth, with such power of words, his Cause support,  
As seems all others Causes to defeat.  
" And, sure, who works his greatness in that sort,  
" Must have more powers, than those that are borne great:  
" Such revolutions are not wrought, but when  
" Those spirits do work, which must be more than men.   

67  
He argues first his Right, so long withheld  
By th'usurpation of the Lancaster's;  
" The Right of a direct Line, always held  
" The sacred course of Blood; our Ancestors,  
" Our laws, our reverent customs have upheld  
" With holy hands. Whence, when disorder crres,  
" What horrors, what confusion, do we see,  
" until it be reduced where it should be?   

68  
" And how it prospers with this wretched Land,  
" witness the universal misery,  
" Wherein (as if accursed) the realm doth stand;  
" deprived of State, wealth, honour, dignity;  
" The Church, and Commons, underneath the hand  
" Of violence, extortion, robbery;  
" No face of order, no respect of laws:  
" And thus complains of what himself is cause;   

69  
" Accusing others insolence, that they  
" Exhausted the revenues of the crown:  
" So that the King was forced only to pray  
" upon his subjects, poor and wretched grown)  
" And that they now sought Ireland to betray,  
" And Calais to the French; which he had known,  
" By th' intercepted notes of their own hand,  
" Who were the only traitors of the Land:   

70  
" And yet procured th'Attaynders most unjust,  
" Of others guiltless and unspotted blood;  
" Who evermore had laboured, in their trust  
" And faithful service for their country's good:  
" And who with extreme violence were thrust  
" Quite out of all, spoiled of their livelihood,  
" exposed to all the miseries of life:  
" Which they endured, to put-off blood and strife.   

71  
" But since (saith he) their malice hath no end,  
" But th'end us all, and to undo the Land:  
" (For which, the hateful French gladly attend,  
" And at this instant have their swords in hand)  
" And that the God of heaven doth seem to bend  
" unto our Cause, whereto the best men stand;  
" And that this blood of mine, so long time sought,  
" reserved seems, for something to be wrought;   

72  
" It rests within your judgements, to upright,  
" Or else to ruin utterly the landlord.  
" For, this be sure, I must pursue my Right  
" whilst I have breath, or I and mine can stand.  
" think, whether this poor State, being in this plight,  
" Stands not in need of some up-raysing hand:  
" Or whether 'tis not time we should have rest,  
" And this confusion, and our wounds redressed.   

73  
This said, he turns aside, and out he goes;  
Leaves them to counsel what was to be done.  
Where, though the most part gathered, were of those  
Who with no opposition sure would run;  
Yet some, more temperate, offered to propose  
That which was fit to be considered on:  
Who, though they knew his claim was fair, in sight;  
Yet thought, it now lacked the right face of Right;   

74  
Since, for the space of three score years, the crown  
Had been in act possessed, in three descents;  
Confirmed by all the Nobles of renown, 
Non confirmatur tractu temporis, quoth de jure ab initio non subsistit.   
The people's suffrages, oaths, Parlements;  
So many acts of State, both of our own,  
And of all other foreign governments:  
" That Wrong, by order, may grow Right by this;  
" Sith Right, th'observer but of Order is.   

75  
" And then considering, first, how Bullingbrooke,  
" Landing in Yorkshire but with three score men,  
" By the consent of all the kingdom, took  
" The crown upon him, held for lawful then;  
" His uncle York and all the peers betook  
" themselves to him, as to their sovereign; when  
" King Richard's wrongs, and his propinquity,  
" Did seem to make no distance in their eye:   

76  
" Nor was without example, in those days:  
" Wherein (as in all Ages) States do take  
" The side of public Peace, to counterpoise  
" The weight of wrong; which, time may rightful make.  
" No elderhood, Rufus and Henry stays, 
W. Rufus and Hen. 1. preferred before their elder brother.   
" The imperial crown of England t'undertake:  
" And John, before his nephew Arthur, speeds;  
" Whom, though deprived, Henry his son succeeds.   

77  
Edward the third, made sovereign of the State,  
Upon his father's deprivation, was:  
All which, though seeming wrongs, yet fairly sat  
In their succeeders, and for right did pass.  
And if they could so work, t'accommodate,  
And calm the peers, and please the populace;  
They wished, the crown might, where it stood, remain,  
Succeeding inconvenience to restrain.   

78  
Thus th'ancient Fathers of the Law advise;  
Grave Baron Thorpe and learned Fortescue:  
Who, though they could not fashion, otherwise,  
Those strong-bent humours, which aversive grew;  
Yet seemed to qualify th'extremities,  
And some respect more to their Sov'raine drew;  
That, during life, it was by all agreed,  
He should be King, and York should him succeed:   

79  
Which, presently enacted, was (beside)  
Proclaimed throughout with all solemnities;  
And intermutually there ratified  
With protestations, vows and oaths, likewise;  
Built-up, with all the strength of form, t'abide  
Whatever oppositions could arise;  
And might have seemed sure and authentical,  
Had all this body of the State been all.   

80  
But Trent, thou keptst a part; Thames had not all:  
The North divided honour, with the South:  
And like power held like greatness several:  
Where other Right, spoke with another mouth;  
Another heir, another Prince they call,  
Whom natural succession follow doth;  
The branch of Kings, the true son of the crown:  
To whom, no father can but leave his own.   

81  
The King, as husband to the crown, doth by  
The wives infeoffment hold; and only here  
Enjoys the same for life, by courtesy;  
Without power to dispose it otherwhere  
(After his death) but as th'authority,  
Order, and custom of Succession bear:  
And therefore Henry's Act cannot undo  
The right of him, whom it belongs unto.   

82  
And this unnatural intrusion, here,  
Of that attainted Blood, out of all course,  
Effected with confusion and with fear,  
Must be reduced to other terms, of force,  
These insolencies justice cannot bear:  
The sword (whereto they only had recourse)  
Must cut this knot, so intricately tied;  
Whose vain contrived ends are plain descried.   

83  
Thus they give-out; and out the sword in hand  
Is drawn for blood, to justify the same:  
And by a side, with many a worthy, manned;  
Great Somerset, Excester, Buckingham,  
With Clifford Courtney, and Northumberland  
(Lords of as mighty courage as of name)  
Which all, against York's forced courses, bend;  
Who, having done, yet had not made an end:   

84  
But, to another work, is forced to go;  
The last turmoil labouring Ambition had:  
Where Pride and overweening led him so  
(For fortunes past) as made the issue sad:  
For, whether safer counsel would or no,  
His yet unfurnished troops he desperate led  
From Sandall Castle, unto Wakefield green,  
Against far mightier forces of the Queen.   

85  
Where, round enclosed by Ambushments fore-layed, 
The battle of Wakefield, where the D. of York is slain: the E. of Salisbury taken & beheaded at York: Edmond E. of Rutland, youngest son to the D. of York murdered after the battle, by the L. Clifford.   
Hard-working for his life (but all in vain)  
With number and confusion overlaid,  
Himself and valiant Salisbury are slain:  
With whom, the most and dearest blood decayed  
Of his courageous and adventurous train:  
So short a life had those long hopes of his;  
Borne not to wear the crown, he wrought for thus;   

86  
But, in the rise of his out-springing lust,  
Now in the last of hope, received this fall;  
Now, that his working powers so far had thrust,  
That his desires had but this step to all:  
When, so near home, he seemed past all distrust,  
This unexpected wrack doth him befall:  
This successor th'inheritor fore-goes;  
The play-game made of Fortune, and his foes.   

87  
Whoseyoung son, Rutland (made the sacrifice  
For others sins, ere he knew how to sin)  
Brought only but to see this exercise  
Of blood and wounds, ends ere he did begin:  
Whose tears, whose moan, whose lamentable cries,  
Can neither mercy nor compassion win:  
The branch of such a tree, though tender now,  
Was not thought fit should any longer grow.   

88  
Which turning chance, t'a long ungraced side,  
Brings back their almost quailed hopes again;  
And thrust them on, to use the present Tide  
And flow of this occasion, to regain  
Th'enthralled Monarch, and to undecide  
The late concluded Act they held for vain;  
And moves their Armies, new refreshed with spoil,  
For more confusion, and for more turmoil:   

89  
Victoriously proceeding unwithstood,  
Till at S. Alban's Warwick forced a stand: 
The 2. battle at S. Albones.   
Whereas (to make his own undoing good)  
The King is brought against himself to band:  
His power and crown is set against his Blood;  
Forced on the side, not of himself, to stand.  
Divided King, in what a case thou art!  
To have thy hand, thus bend against thy heart.   

90  
And here this famous fatal place, again,  
Is made the stage of blood; again these streets,  
imbrued with slaughter, covered with the slain,  
Witness what desperate wrath with rancour meets.  
But, Fortune now is in an other vain;  
Another side her turning favour greets:  
The King, here lately lost, is now here won; 
The King is again recovered by the queen.   
Still sure t'undo the side that he was on.   

91  
Warwick, with other Genius then his own, 
The E. of Warwick with the D. of Norfolk, put to fight, and Sir John Grey slain on the King's side.   
Had here to do: which made him see the face  
Of sad misfortune, in the self same town,  
Where prosperous winning lately gave him grace:  
And Margaret here, this martial Amazon,  
Was, with the spirit of herself, in place:  
Whose labours, Fortune, even to pity, stir;  
And, being a woman, could but give it her.   

92  
The reputation and encouragement  
Of Wakefield glory, wakened them to this.  
And this seems now the full accomplishment  
Of all their travel, all their cumbrances.  
For, what can more disturb this government,  
When York extinct, & Warwick conquered, is?  
Directing Salisbury, left without a head,  
What rests there now, that all's not finished?   

93  
Thus, for the sick, preserving Nature strives  
Against corruption, and the loathsome grave;  
When, out of death's cold hands, she back reprieves  
Th'almost confounded spirits, she feign would save:  
And them cheers up, illightens, and revives;  
Making faint sickness, words of health to have,  
With looks of life, as if the worst were passed;  
When straight comes dissolution, and his last.   

94  
So fares it with this late revived Queen:  
Whose Victories, thus fortunately won,  
Have but as only lightning motion's been,  
Before the ruin that ensued thereon.  
For, now another springing power is seen;  
Whereto, as to the new arising sun,  
All turn their faces, leaving those low rays  
Of setting Fortune, which no Climer weighs.   

95  
Now is young March, more than a Duke of York.  
For, youth, love, grace and courage make him more.  
All which, for fortune's favour, now do work,  
Who graceth freshest Actors evermore;  
Making the first attempt, the chiefest work  
Of any man's designs, that strives therefore.  
" The after-seasons are not so well blest.  
" For, those first spirits make their first actions best.   

96  
Now as the Libyan Lion, when with pain  
The weary Hunter hath pursued his prey  
From rocks, to Brakes, from Thickets to the plain,  
And at the point, thereon his hands to lay,  
Hard-by his hopes, his eye upon his gain,  
Out-rushing from his den rapts all away:  
So comes young March, their ends to disappoint,  
Who now were grown so near unto the point.   

97  
The love of these important Southern parts,  
Of Essex, Surry, Middlesex, and Kent,  
The Queen had wholly lost; as they whose hearts  
Grew ill affected to her government,  
Upon th'uncivil and presumptuous parts,  
Played by the Northern troops, grown insolent:  
Whom, though she could not govern otherwise,  
Yet th'ill thats wrought for her, upon her lies.   

98  
So wretched is this execrable war,  
" This civil sword: wherein, though all we see  
" Be foul, and all things miserable are;  
" Yet most distressful is the victory:  
" Which is, not only th'extreme ruiner  
" Of others; but, her own calamity:  
" Where, who obtains, what he would cannot do:  
" Their power hath part, who holp him thereunto.   

99  
The city, whose goodwill they most desire, 
The Queen, after the battle of S. Albones, sent to the mayor of London for certain provisions: who willing to furnish her therewithal, the Commons of the city stayed the same, and would not permit the carts to pass. Whereupon, the L. Mayor sent to excuse himself, and to appease the displeasure of the Queen.   
(Yet thereunto durst not commit their state)  
Sends them not those provisions they require;  
Which seemed restrained by the people's hate:  
Yet Marches help far off, and near this fire  
(To win them time) forced them to mediate  
A reconcilement: which, well entertained,  
Was fairly now growen-on, and nearly gained:   

100  
When, with a thousand tongues, swiftwinged Fame comes,  
And tells of Marches gallant Victories:  
Who, what withstands, subdues; all overcomes;  
Making his way through fiercest enemies;  
As having now to cast, in greater sums,  
The reckoning of his hopes, that mainly rise.  
His father's death, gives more life unto wrath:  
And vexed valour, greater courage hath.   

101  
And now, as for his last, his labouring worth  
Works on the coast which on fair Severne lies:  
Whereto his Father (passing to the North)  
Sent him, to levy other fresh supplies:  
But, hearing now what Wakefield had brought forth;  
Imploring aid against these injuries,  
Obtains from Gloster, Worster, Shrewsburie,  
Important powers, to work his remedy.   

102  
Which he, against Pembroke and Ormond, bends; 
jasper E. of Pembroke, and James Butler E. of Ormond & Wiltshire.   
Whom Margaret (now upon her victory)  
With all speed possible from Wakefield sends;  
With hope to have surprised him suddenly.  
Wherein, though she all means, all wit extends,  
To th'utmost reach of wary policy;  
Yet nothing her avayles: no plots succeed,  
T'avert those mischiefs which the heavens decreed.   

103 
The battle of Mortimers cross where Owen Teuther, father to the E. of Pembroke, who had married K Hen. mother was taken & beheaded.   
For, near the cross allied unto his name,  
He crossed those mighty forces of his foes;  
And with a spirit, ordained for deeds of fame,  
Their eager-fighting Army overthrows:  
Making all clear behind, from whence he came;  
Bearing-downe, wholly, what before him rose;  
Like to an all-confounding Torrent seems:  
And was made more, by Warwick's mighty streams. 
The E. of Warw. after his overthrow at S. Alb. retires with all the forces he could make, and joins with the young D. of York: who coming to London, and received with all joy, a great council was presently called of the L L. spiritual all and temporal: where King Henry was adjudged insufficient: for the government of the realm, and to be deprived of all regal authority; & the D of York elected for K and after proclaimed by the name of Edward the 4. the 4 of March, 1460. at the age of 18.    

104  
With th'inundation of which greatness, he  
(having no bounds of power to keep him back)  
Marched to the city: at whose entrance free,  
No signs of joy, nor no applaudings lack.  
Whose near approach, when this sad Queen did see,  
(T'avoid these rocks of her near threatening wrack)  
With her grieved troops northward she hence departs;  
And leaves, to Youth and Fortune, these South-parts.   

105  
Glory, with admiration, entering now,  
Opened that easy door to his intent,  
As that there needs not long time to allow  
The Right he had unto the government;  
Nor Henry's injuries to disavow,  
Against his oath, and th'Act of parliament.  
" For, here the speediest way he takes t'accord  
Difference in law, that pleads it with the Sword.   

106  
Gathered to see his mustered Companies,  
Stood all the flocking troops of London streets;  
When Faulconbridge, with gentle feeling, tries  
How strong the pulse of their affection beats; 
And so Hen. 6. after he had reigned 38. years 8. months, was deposed.   
And (reckoning up the grievous miseries,  
And desolation, which the Country threats)  
Asked them, whom they would have to be their King,  
To lead those troops; and State in form to bring.   

107  
Whereto, with such an universal shout,  
The Earl of March, the multitude replies,  
As the rebounding echo straight throughout  
(From tower to tower reverberated) flies  
To th'ears of those great Lords, who sat about  
The consultation for this enterprise.  
Whose care is saved, which most they stood upon:  
For, what they counsel how too do, is done.   

108  
And nothing now, but to confirm him king,  
Remains (which must not long remain) to do.  
The present heat doth straight dispatch the thing,  
With all those solemn rites that long thereto:  
So that, what York, with all his travailing,  
Force and intrusion, could not get unto,  
Is now thus freely laid upon his son;  
Who must make fair, what foully was begun.   

109  
Whoseend, attained, had it here made an end  
Of foul destruction, and had stayed the blood  
Which Towton, Exham, Tewksbury did spend  
With desperate hands, and deeper wounds with stood;  
And that none other crown, brought to contend  
With that of his, had made his seem less good;  
How had this long-afflicted Land been blest!  
Our sighs had ended, and my Muse had rest.   

110  
Which now (but little past half her long way)  
Stands trembling at the horrors that succeed;  
Weary with these embroylements, feign would stay  
Her farther course, unwilling to proceed:  
And, feign to see that glorious holiday  
Of union, which this discord reagreed;  
Knows not as yet, what to resolve upon;  
Whether to leave-off here, or else go-on.   
The end of the seventh book.   

THE EIGHTTH book.  
THE argument.  

King Edward, power against King Henry led;  
And hath at Towton-field the victory.  
From whence, King Henry into Scotland fled:  
Where he attempts his state's recovery;  
Steals into England; is discovered;  
Brought Prisoner to the tower disgracefully.  
And Edward, whiles great Warwick doth assay  
A Match in France, marries the Lady Grey.   

1  
ON yet, sad Verse: though those bright stars, from whence  
Thou hadst thy light, are set for evermore;  
And that these times do not like grace dispense  
To our endeavours, as those did before:  
Yet on; since She, whose beams do reincense  
This sacred fire, seems as reserved in store  
To raise this work, and here to have my last;  
Who had the first of all my labours past.   

2  
On (with her blessed favour) and relate, 
Edward being proclaimed, and acknowledged for King, presently sets forward towards the North, to encounter with K. Hen. 6. who in Yorkshire had assembled a puissant army, of near 60000. men, and at a place called Towton, about 4. miles from York, both their powers met: where was fought the greatest battle our stories mention, in all these civil wars. Where both the Armies consisted of above a 100000. men, & all of our own nation.   
With what new bloodshed, this new chosen Lord  
Made his first entry to th'afflicted State,  
Past his first Act of public, with the sword,  
Ingored his new-worne crown, and how he got  
Possession of affliction, and restored  
His Right unto a royal misery;  
Maintained with as bloody dignity.   

3  
Show, how our great Pharsalian Field was fought  
At Towton in the North; the greatest day  
Of ruin, that dissension ever brought  
Unto this Kingdom: where, two crowns did sway  
The work of slaughter; two Kings Causes wrought  
Destruction to one People, by the way  
Of their affections, and their loyalties;  
As if one, for these ills, could not suffice.   

4  
Where Lancaster and that courageous side  
(That noble constant Part) came furnished  
With such a power, as might have terrified  
And overrun the earth; had they been led  
The way of glory, where they might have tried  
For th'Empire of all Europe, as those did  
The Macedonian led into the East;  
Their number being double, at the least.   

5  
And where brave York comes as completely manned,  
With courage, valour, and with equal might;  
Prepared to try with a resolved hand,  
The metal of his Crown, and of his Right:  
Attended with his fatal firebrand  
Of war, Warwick; that blazing star of fight,  
The Comet of destruction, that portends  
Confusion, and distress, what way he tends.   

6  
What rage, what madness, England, do we see?  
That this brave people, in such multitude  
Run to confound themselves, and all to be  
Thus mad for Lords, and for mere servitude.  
What might have been, if (Roman-like, and free)  
These gallant Spirits had nobler ends pursued,  
And strained to points of glory and renown,  
For good of the republic and their own?   

7  
But, here no Cato with a Senate stood  
For commonwealth: nor here were any sought  
T'emancipate the State, for public good;  
But only, headlong, for their faction wrought.  
Here, every man runs-on to spend his blood,  
To get but what he had already got.  
For, whether Pompey, or a Caesar won,  
Their state was ever sure to be all one.   

8  
And, first, before these fatal Armies met,  
Had forward Warwick laid the passage free,  
At Ferry Brigges: where the Lord Clifford (set 
The L. Clifford slain at Ferry Briggs.   
With an adventurous gallant company  
To guard that straight, York's farther march to let)  
Began the Scene to this great tragedy;  
Made the first entrance on the Stage of blood:  
Which now, set wide for wounds, all open stood.   

9  
When, Edward to exhort his men began,  
With words, where to both spirit and majesty  
His pers'nage gave; forthat he was a man  
(Besides a King) whose crown sat gracefully.  
come is the day, said he, wherein who can  
Obtain the best, is Best: this day must try  
Who hath the wrong, and whence our ills have been:  
And 'tis our swords must make us honest men.   

10  
For though our Cause, by God and men allowed,  
Hath in it honour, right, and honesty:  
Yet all, as nothing, is to be avowed,  
Unless withal, we have the victory.  
For, justice is (we see) a virtue proud,  
And leans to power, and leaves weak misery.  
And therefore, seeing the case we now stand in,  
We must resolve either to die or win.   

11  
So that if any here doth find his heart  
To fail him, for this noble work, or stands  
Irresolute this day; let him departed,  
And leave his arms behind, for worthier hands.  
I know, e now will stay to do their part,  
Here to redeem themselves, wives, children, lands,  
And have the glory that thereby shall rise,  
To free their Country from these miseries.   

12  
But here, what needed words to blow the fire  
In flame already, and enkindled so  
As when it was proclaimed, they might retire  
Who found unwillingness to undergo  
That venturous work; they all did so conspire  
To stand out Fortune, that not one would go,  
To bear away a hand from blood; not one  
Defraud the Field of th'evil might be done.   

13  
Where Warwick too (producing, in their sight,  
An argument, whereby he did conclude 
The E. of Warwick, before the battle began, with his own hands killed his horse.   
There was no hope of safety, but by fight)  
Doth sacrifice his horse, to Fortitude:  
And thereby did the least conceit of flight,  
Or any succour, by escape, exclude;  
" seeing, in the straight of a necessity,  
" The means to win, is t'have no means to fly.   

14  
It was upon the twilight of that day  
(That peaceful day) when the Religious bear  
The olive-branches as they go to pray,  
(And we, in am, the blooming palms use here)  
When both the Armies, ready in array  
For the early sacrifice of blood, appear  
Prepared for mischief, ere they had full light  
To see to do it, and to do it right.   

15  
Th'advantage of the time, and of the wind  
(Which, both, with York seem as retained in pay)  
Brave Faulconbridge takes hold-on, and assigned 
William Nevil. L. Faulconbridge, after created E. of Kent.   
The Archers their flight-shafts to shoot away:  
Which, th'adverse side (with sleet and dimness, blind,  
Mistaken in the distance of the way)  
Answer with their sheafe-arrowes; that came short  
Of their intended aim, and did no hurt.   

16  
But, gathered by th'on-marching Enemy,  
Returned were, like clouds of steel; which power  
Destruction down, and did new-night the sky;  
As if the Day had failed to keep his hour.  
Whereat, the ranged horse breake-out, deny  
Obedience to the Riders, scorn their power,  
Disrank the troops, set all in disarray,  
To make the assailant owner of the day.   

17  
Thus, thou peculiar engine of our Land  
(Weapon of Conquest, master of the Field)  
Renowned Boaw (that mad'st this crown command  
The towers of France, and all their powers to yield)  
Art made at home to have th'especial hand  
In our dissensions, by thy work upheld:  
Thou first didst conquer us; then raised our skill  
To vanquish others; hear ourselves to spill.   

18  
And now how comest thou to be out of date,  
And all neglected leav'st us, and art gone?  
And with thee, th'ancient strength, the manly state  
Of valour, and of worth, that glory won?  
Or else stayest thou, till new-prized shot abate?  
(That never shall affect what thou hast done)  
And oneiy but attendest some blessed reign,  
When thou and Virtue shalt be graced again.   

19  
But, this sharp tempest drove Northumberland,  
(Who led the vanguard of king Henry's side)  
With eager heatjoine join battle, out of hand;  
And this disorder, with their swords to hide. 
In this battle of Towton on K. Hen. side, were slain Hen Percy E. of North. the EE. of Shrewsbury and Devonshire. John L. Clifford, the L. L. Bewmond, Nevile, Willouhby, Wells, Roos, Grey, Dacres, Fitz-hugh, Molineux, Beckingham: Knights, the 2. base sons of Hen. Holland D. of Excester, Richard Percy, Gervase Clifton, Andrew Trollop. etc.   
Where, twice five hours, these furious armies stand;  
And Fortunes balance weighed on neither side;  
Nor either did but equal bloodshed gain,  
Till Henry's chiefest leaders all were slain.   

20  
Then, lo, those spirits, which from these heads derive  
Their motions, gave off working; and, in haste,  
Turn all their backs to Death, and mainly strive  
Who from themselves shall runaway most fast.  
The after-flyers on the former drive:  
And they again, by the pursuers chased,  
Make bridges of their fellows backs, to pass  
The Brooks and rivers, whereas danger was.   

21  
Witness O cleare-streamed Cock: within whose banks,  
So many thousand, crawling, helpless lay,  
With wounds and weariness; who, in their ranks,  
Had valiantly behaved themselves that day:  
And might have had more honour, and more thanks 
The whole number slain were accounted, by some, 33000. by others, 35091.   
By standing to their work, and by their stay.  
" But men, at once, life seem to love and loath;  
" Running to lose it, and to save it both.   

22  
Unhappy Henry, from a little Hill,  
Placed not far off (whence he might view the fight)  
Had all th'entire full prospect of this ill,  
With all the scattered slaughter, in his sight:  
Saw how the victorraged rag'd, and spoiled at will,  
And left not off when all was in his might:  
Saw, with how great ado himself was won;  
And with what store of blood Kings are undone.   

23  
We are not worth so much, nor I, nor he,  
As hath been spent for us, by you this day,  
Dear people, said he: therefore, O, agree,  
And leave off mischief, and your malice stay.  
Stay, Edward, stay. They must a People be,  
When we shall not be Kings: and it is they,  
Who make us with their miseries. Spare them,  
For whom thou thus dost seek a Diadem.   

24  
For me, I could be pleased t'have nought to do  
With Fortune; and content, myself were ill,  
So England might be well; and that t'undo  
Me, might suffice the sword, without more ill.  
And yet perhaps, these men, that cleave unto  
The parts of Princes, with such eager will,  
Have likewise their own ends, of gain or hate,  
In these our strifes, and nourish this debate.   

25  
Thus stood he (drawing lines of his discourse)  
In contemplation; when, more needfully, 
Queen Margaret with her son were in the City of York, expecting the event of this battle.   
It did import him to devise a course,  
How he might shift for his recovery:  
And had been taken had not some by force,  
Rescued, and drawn him off, more speedily;  
And brought him unto York, in all main post:  
Where he first told his Queen, the day was lost.   

25  
Who, as composed of that firm temperature  
Which could not bend to base complaints, nor wail  
As weakness doth (foreknowing how t'endure)  
Failed not herself, though Fortune did her fail;  
But, rather casts-about how to procure  
Means to reserve her part, and to prevail  
Of that poor time, left her to save her own;  
As one though overcome, not overthrown:   

26  
Now, when she had of fatal Lancaster  
Seen all the pillars crushed and ruined,  
That under-set it; all that followed her  
Of those heroic personages, dead,  
Save only Somerset, and Excester  
(Who from this last destruction hardly fled)  
And saw all lost, and nothing in her might,  
But only that which must be saved by flight:   

27  
Now, when there was no North left, of their own,  
To draw unto; no side, to gather head;  
No people to be raised, t'an empty crown;  
Nor yet the ground their own, whereon they tread.  
When yet your faith (worthy of all renown)  
Constant Northumbrians, firm continued:  
And, though you could not render succours fit  
Unto your sovereign, you would save him yet;   

28  
And be (as few men, in this world, are) true  
Unto affliction, and to misery:  
And would not basely purchase and renew  
Your peace, and safety, by disloyalty:  
But wrought, that though the Victor did pursue,  
With greedy care and eager industry,  
To have surprised him; yet was all in vain.  
Till he recovered Berwicke, with his train.   

29  
Where now, he was at some more vacancy  
To understand, and see himself undone:  
Which, in this sodaine-comming misery,  
He had no leisure to consider-on.  
And now surveys he that poor company,  
Attending on himself, his wife, and son;  
Sees how that all the State, which served his crown,  
Was shut within the walls of one small town:   

30  
Beholds there, what a poor distressed thing,  
A King without a people was; and whence  
The glory of that mightiness doth spring,  
That over-spreds (with such a reverence)  
This under-world: whence comes this furnishing  
And all this splendour of Magnificence:  
He sees, what chair soever Monarch sat  
Upon, on Earth, the People was the State.   

31  
And yet, although he did contain no more  
Than what he saw; yet saw a piece so small  
Can not contain him. What he was before,  
Made him uncapable of any wall,  
To yield him secure now: he must have more,  
Then only this small hold, or none at all.  
And therefore, this (seeing it availed him not,  
Nor could he keep) he renders to the Scot;   

32  
As th'Earnest, to confirm and ratify 
Hen. 6 delivers the town of Berwicke to the K. of Scots.   
The league between them two, newly begun.  
Whereof to make more sure and faster tie,  
He promised, too, th'alliance of his son:  
And all that might secure their amity,  
With willingness, on either side was done.  
And here they practise, all they can devise,  
To turn revenge upon their enemies.   

33  
Thus, England, didst thou see the mightiest King  
Thou ever hadst (in Power and majesty  
Of State, and of Dominions; governing  
A most magnificent Nobility;  
With an aduent'rous people, flourishing  
In all the glories of felicity)  
Chased from his kingdom, forced to seek redress  
In parts remote, distressed and succourless.   

34  
Now Bullingbrook, these miseries, here shown,  
Do much unload thy sin; make thy ill, good.  
For, if thou did didst by wrong, attain the crown,  
'Twas without cries; it cost but little blood:  
But, York, by his attempt hath overthrown  
All the best glory wherein England stood;  
And did his state by her undoing win:  
And was, though white without, yet red within.   

35  
And thus he hath it: and is now to deal  
For th' entertaining and continuance  
Of men's affections; and to seek to heal  
Those foul corruptions, which the maintenance  
Of so long wars bred in the commonweal.  
He must remunerate, prefer, advance,  
His chiefest friends; and prosecute, with might,  
The adverse part; do wrong, to do men right:   

36  
Whilst martial Margaret, with her hopeful son,  
Is travailing in France to purchase aid;  
And plots, and toils, and nothing leaves undone;  
Though all in vain. For, being thus overlaid  
By Fortune and the Time, all that is done  
Is out out of season. For she must have stayed  
Till that first heat of men's affections (which  
They bear new Kings) were laid, and not so much.   

37  
When they should find, that they had gained no more,  
Then th'Asse, by changing of his Masters, did;  
(Who still must labour as he used before)  
And those expectancies came frustrated,  
Which they had set upon th'imagined score,  
Of their accounts; and had considered,  
How that it did but little benefit  
The doves; To change the Falcon, for the Kite.   

38 
Queen Margaret, furnished with a great power of Scots and French, to the number of 20000, with her husband entered into Northumberland, took the Castle of Bambrough and after came forward to the bishopric of Durham. Where Hen. Beaufort D. of Somerset who had lately been reconciled to K. Ed. 4 joined with them, and also brought thither with him Sir Ralph Percy, a man of great courage & worth: who were taken in the battle of Exham, and executed in An. 3. Ed. 4. 1464.   
And yet brave Queen, for three years of his reign,  
Thou gav'st him little breathing time of rest;  
But still his miseries didst entertain  
With new attempts, and new assaults addressed:  
And, at thy now-returne from France again,  
(supplied with forces) once more gatheredst  
An Army for the Field, and brought'st, to war,  
The scattered parts of broken Lancaster.   

39  
And once again, at Exham, ledst them on  
With Scots, and French t'another bloody day;  
And there beheldst thyself again undone,  
With all that Rest, whereon thy fortunes lay.  
Where, Somerset (late to King Edward gone,  
And got his pardon) having 'scaped away,  
With noble Percy, came to bring their blood  
Unto thy side, whereto they first had stood.   

40  
Where, the Lords, Molines, Rosse, and Hungerford,  
With many else of noble Families,  
Extinguished were; and many that days sword  
Cutoff their names, in their posterities.  
Where fled, again, their luckless followed Lord;  
And is so near pursued by th' enemies,  
As th'ensign of his crown was seized upon,  
For him who had before his kingdom won;   

41  
And shortly after, too, his person got.  
For, he, now wearied with his long exile,  
And miseries abroad, grew passionate,  
With longing to return t' his native soil.  
And seeing he could not do the fame, in State;  
He seeks, disguised in fashion, to beguile  
The world a time, and steal the liberty  
And sight of his dear Country, privately:   

42  
As if there were, for a pursued King, 
King Hen. was taken in Lancashire, and brought to London, with his legs bound to the stirrups, having, in his company, only Doctor Manning, Deane of Windzor, with another divine: who were taken with him and committed to the Tower.   
A covert left on earth, wherein to hide;  
When power and jealousy are travailing,  
And lay to catch affliction, on each side.  
Misfortune serves, we see, for every thing.  
And soon he comes, God knows, to be descried:  
And Edward hath the booty he desired:  
For whose establishment, all things conspired.   

43  
Yet, long it was not, ere a fire began  
To take, in th'inwardst Closet, where he laid  
The treasure of his chiefest trust; and ran  
From thence, through all his State, before it stayed.  
For, being a King, who his whole fortunes wan  
With others hands, must many leave unpaid:  
And could not fill up that vast greediness  
Of Expectation, which is bottomless:   

44  
Though he did all the best that in him lay 
K. Ed. 4. sat on the King's Bench, in open Court, 3 days together, in Michaelmas term An. 2. of his reign, to understand how his laws were executed.   
(As a most active Prince) to satisfy  
The interest of their travails, and defray  
The bands contracted twixt his sovereignty  
And the republic: seeking to allay  
All grievances; reorder equity;  
Reform the bars, that justice did abuse;  
Lay easy on the State, as new Kings use.   

45  
As he, who, having found great Treasury,  
The first year offers, with most grateful cheer,  
A sheep of gold, to Juno's deity;  
And next, of silver, for the second year;  
The third, of brass; and then, neglectively,  
Nothing at all: So those respects, which were  
Borne of a present feeling, moved him most;  
But soon were with their times and motives lost.   

46  
And, what his bounty could not recompense,  
He pays with honours, and with dignities.  
And (more to angle the benevolence,  
And catch the love of men, with courtesies)  
He oft would make his dignity dispense  
With his too low familiarities;  
Descending, from his Sphere of majesty.  
Beneath himself, very submissively.   

47 
The Earl of Warwick was sent into France to treat of a marriage between King Edward and the Lady Bona, daughter to Loyse D. of Savoy and sister to the La. Carlote Queen of France: which was there agreed upon; and Monsieur Damp Martin with others appointed to be sent into Eng. for the full accomplishing thereof.   
And when he had disposed, in some good train,  
His home affairs; he counsels how t'advance  
His foreign correspondence, with the chain  
Of some alliance that might countenance  
His greatness, and his quiet entertain.  
Which was thought fittest with some match, of France;  
To hold that kingdom, from subayding such  
Who else could not subsist, nor hope so much.   

48  
Nor was it now a time to have contrast  
With any foreign mighty Potentate;  
But keep the outer doors of each side fast,  
Having so much to do within his State.  
And, thereupon, was Warwick (by whose cast  
All must be wrought) employed to mediate  
A present Marriage, to be had between  
Him, and the sister of the young French Queen.   

49  
Which was not long, nor hard to bring to pass 
But in the mean time, (the first of May) the K. married the La. Elizabeth Grey, daughter to the Duchess of Bedford, late wife to Sir John Grey slain at S. Albones on King Henry's part.   
Where like respects met in a point alike.  
So that the same as even concluded was,  
And all as done; Lady and friends all like:  
When love, the Lord of Kings (by whom must pass  
This Act of our Affections) took dislike  
That he was not made privy thereunto;  
And therefore, in his wrath, would all undo.   

50  
For, whiles this youthful Prince, at his disport  
In Grafton woods, retired from public care,  
Attending how his suit in France did sort  
(Whereon his cogitations only were)  
He comes, at home, surprised in other sort;  
A nearer fire inflamed his passions here;  
An English beauty, with more worth endued  
Then France could yield, his royal heart subdued.   

51  
A woeful widow, whom his quarrel had  
(As it had many more) made desolate,  
Came to his Court, in mournful habit clad,  
To sue for justice, to relieve her state.  
And entering as a suppliant all sad;  
With graceful sorrow, and a comely gate  
She passed the Presence: where, all eyes were cast  
On her more stately presence, as she passed.   

52  
Her looks, not let-abrode (but carefully  
Kept in, restrained) held their reservedness:  
Observing none but her own dignity,  
And his, to whom she did herself address.  
And, drawing near his royal majesty,  
A blush of reverence, not bashfulness,  
Lightened her lovely cheeks, and down she kneels;  
Gives her Petition, for the wrongs she feels.   

53  
And, in delivering it, lifts up her eyes  
(The movingst mediators she could bring)  
And straight withdraws them, in submissive wise;  
Not fixing them directly on the King:  
Who, moved with her sweet fashion, bade her rise,  
With gentle language full of comforting;  
Read her request: but thought not what he read.  
The lines, he viewed, her eyes had figured.   

54  
Then paused a while, and mused; as if he weighed  
The substance of her suit. The which, God wot,  
Was not the thing he mused. And, having stayed,  
Seemed to read on again; but yet reads not:  
And still a stealing side-cast look conveyed  
On her sweet face; as if he had forgot  
To be elsewhere, then where he did behold:  
And thought not what he did; but what he would.   

55  
But, lest his sudden passion might have, there,  
More witnessses than he would wish to have;  
He took up his desires, which posting were  
Beyond their stages; and this answer gave:  
Madam, we will ourself take time to hear  
Your Cause at large: wherein we will you have  
No other reference, but repair to us:  
Who will accommodate this business.   

56  
She, that expected present remedy  
(Hearing this dilatory answer) thought,  
The King found scruple in the equity  
Of her request; and thereupon he sought  
To put her to delays of Court, whereby  
She might be tired, and in the end get nought.  
And that, which her opinion made more strong,  
Was that he studied, and was mute, so long.   

57  
Which forced from her these words: My Lord,  
Let not my being a Lancastrian bred  
Without mine own election, disafford  
Me right, or make my Cause disfigured;  
Since I am now the subject of your sword:  
Which God hath (with your Right) established,  
To do us right: and let not what we were,  
Be now the cause to hurt us as we are.   

58  
Lady, mistake me not: never did I  
Make war with women, nor used women's war,  
Revenge; but prosecuted honestly  
My Right, not Men. My quarrels ended are,  
With my obtaining of the victory.  
And (Lady) know, your Cause moves me thus far,  
As you shall find, said he, I do desire  
To do you greater right than you require.   

59  
With this, they part; both, with their thoughts full charged:  
She, of her suit in hand; and he of her:  
Wherein, he spends that night, and quite discharged  
All other cogitations; to confer,  
First, how he might have her estate enlarged:  
Then, in what sort her service to prefer  
Unto his new expected Wife and Queen:  
Then, how to mask his love, from being seen.   

60  
For, yet, Lust was not grown to that degree  
To have no limits; but that shame kept-in  
The greatest greatness, from this being free  
To hold their Wantonness to be no sin.  
For, though Kings cannot overmastered be,  
They will be over-lookt, and seen within:  
And, though they could their weaknesses make sure;  
Yet crimes, though safe, can never be secure.   

61  
Sometimes, he thinks it better to provide  
A place retired, and have her from the Court:  
And then, with what pretensions he might hide  
His private coming, and his oft resort:  
Then, by his Queen, if it should be espied,  
How he might clear with her, and stop report.  
And thus consumes the night: and if he slept,  
He slept those thoughts that with these passions kept.   

62  
The morning being come (and glad he was  
That it was come) after so long a night  
He thought would have no morning (time did pass  
So slow, and his desires ran-on so light)  
A messenger with speed dispatched was,  
Of special trust, this Lady to invite  
To come t'his presence; though before the time  
That Ladies rise: who rarely rise betime.   

63  
Yet soon she hastes: and yet that soon seemed long,  
To him whose longing went so swift apace:  
And frets, that such attiring should belong  
To that which yields itself sufficient grace;  
Considering how these ornaments may wrong  
The set of beauty: which, we see, doth grace  
Th'attire it wears, and is not graced thereby;  
As being that only, which doth take the eye.   

64  
But now, being come, that quarrel of delay  
Straight ended was: her presence satisfies  
All, what Expectance had laid out for stay:  
And he beheld more sweetness in her eyes,  
And saw her more than she was yesterday:  
A cheerliness did with her hopes arise,  
That lamped clearer than it did before,  
And made her spirit, and his affections, more.   

65  
When, those who were about him, presently  
Voided the room, and left him to confer  
Alone with his fair suitor privately  
(As they who to his courses conscious were)  
And he began: madam, the remedy  
Which you (in your Petition) sue-for here,  
Shall be allowed to th'utmost that you crave,  
With th'expedition you would wish to have.   

66  
And here I have another suit to you:  
Which if you please to grant, we both shall now  
Rest equally content. Wherewith, there grew  
That sudden alteration in her brow,  
As all were overcast; and so withdrew  
That freedom from her looks (lest they should 'low  
More than her heart might mean) as they reflect  
A narrower and a carefuller aspect.   

67  
That when he saw this barrier of dislike  
Thus inter-set, to keep his forwardness  
Back from presumptive pressing; it did strike  
That reverence, as it staid him to express  
His farther will. And she replies: 'Tis like,  
When Kings to subjects sue, they mean no less  
Then to command; nor must they be withstood;  
Forthat good Kings will seek but what is good.   

68  
And, in that fair respect, your majesty,  
According to your will, both must and may  
Command my service; who most reverently  
Your royal pleasure ever shall obey.  
With which word, pleasure (though it doubtfully  
In that hardfastness of condition lay,  
Under the lock of goodness) he was cast  
In hope, he might obtain the same at last.   

69  
And thus rejoins; My pleasure only shall  
Be, madam, for your good; please it but you  
To make it so. And, here to tell you all,  
I love you; and therein I tell you true.  
What honour may by King's affections fall,  
Must light upon your fortunes, as your due.  
And though France shall a Wife, for fashion, bring:  
You must be th'only mistress of the King.   

70  
Streight might you see, how Scorn, and fear, & Shame  
All intermixed in one aspect) return  
The message of her thoughts, before words came.  
And first, within her brow, in state sat scorn;  
Shame in her cheeks; where also fear became  
An inmate too; and both appear, by turn:  
Blushes did paleness, paleness blushes chase;  
As scorning, fearing, shaming such disgrace.   

71  
She scorns to be addeemed so worthlesse-base  
As to be moved to such an infamy.  
She shames to think, that aught, within her face,  
Should breed th'opinion of immodesty.  
She fears the fatal danger of the place,  
Her 'loneness, and the power of majesty:  
And so (confused) in fear, in shame, in scorn,  
This answer to his Motion doth return:   

72  
My sovereign Lord, it grieves me that you deem,  
Because I in this sort for justice sue,  
I would the same with mine own wrong redeem,  
And by dishonour reobtain my due:  
No: I would hate that right, which should but seem  
To be beholding to a wanton view  
Or motive of my person, not my Cause;  
That craves but right, from justice, and your laws.   

73  
And know, great Monarch, that I more do weigh  
My distaff with mine honour, than I do  
The mightiest sceptre, King did ever sway  
Upon the earth, or Nations bowed unto.  
I own subjection; which I humbly pay,  
With all the outward service I can do:  
But, sovereign, in the region of my heart  
I reign sole queen; no King can force a part.   

74  
Here, fear a little interposed a touch,  
To warn her violence to temporize  
With power, and State: and she concludes her speech,  
With craving pardon in more humble wise;  
Yet, in proud humble wise: which show'd, how much  
She did her honour above greatness prize.  
And so, being full of what she did conceive,  
Desires to be dismissed, and takes her leave.   

75  
Here, Mary Pembroke (by whose generous brow,  
And noble graces, I deliniat  
These shapes of others virtues) could I show  
In what a desperate and confused estate  
She left this disappointed King; and how  
Love and Ambition in their glory sat,  
And tyrannized on his divided heart,  
Warring each other with a powerful part.   

76  
How first, love underneath his Colours brought  
The strength of all her graceful worthiness;  
And sets them in th'advantage of his thought,  
Upon the side of Youth and wantonness:  
Then how Ambition, that for glory wrought,  
Comes with his State, his crown, and Powrfulnes,  
And plants her on the side of providence,  
To beat unfit Affections off from thence.   

77  
But, I must overgo these passages;  
And hasten-on my way, to overtake  
Mine ends, in sad and graver businesses;  
Whereof I shall to you relation make:  
And yet my zeal here forced me thus t'express  
Elizabeth, forour Eliza's sake;  
Who graced the Muses (which her Times became):  
For, they who give them comfort, must have fame.   

78  
And I must tell you now, when this great fight  
Of counter-passions had been thoroughly tried,  
How in the end the victory did light  
Upon loves forces, as the stronger side;  
And beat down those respects of benefit,  
Of honour, greatness, strength, and all beside;  
And never granted rest unto his strife,  
Till marriage rites had her confirmed his wife.   

79  
Which, that place, where he saw her first, saw done,  
Ere he removed his foot: for, love is still  
In haste, and (as a Lord, that rules alone)  
Admits no counsellor, in good nor ill.  
For, He and Kings gladly give ear to none,  
But such as smooth their ways, and soothe their will.  
And who will not desire to give his voice  
(Be what it will) to praise a Prince's choice?   

80  
Which was (indeed) in virtue, beauty, grace,  
And all but fortune, worthy of his bed:  
And in that too, had he but lived the space  
Thave seen her plenteous issue fully bred;  
That they might have collated strength and grace  
On her weak side: which (scorned and maliced)  
Lay-open undefenced, apt to beundone  
By proud usurping power, when he was gone.   

81  
But now, when fame of this home-chosen Match  
Arrived in France (for there it did arrive,  
Ere they could here attend to make dispatch  
T'impart the same to Warwick, or contrive  
Some colour that in any sort might fetch  
Him fairly off, and no dishonour give)  
It so much stirred the humours in those parts,  
As marred the whole complexion of their hearts.   

82  
The French King scorns such an indignity.  
Warwick disdains employment in this case.  
The Queen (enraged) with extreme vehemency,  
Storms at her sisters and her own disgrace.  
The Lady Bona takes most tenderly  
To be so mocked, with hope of such a Place:  
And all blame Warwick, and his fraud condemn;  
Whilst he himself, deceived, suffers with them:   

83  
And could not (by all means might be devised)  
Vntaste them of this violent disgust;  
But that they still held, something lay disguised  
Under this treaty. So that now he must  
Bring-home his reputation cauterized  
With th'idle mark of serving others lust  
In frivolous employments, or be sent  
Out of the way to colour some intent.   

84  
" Which, to himself, made him, with grief inveigh  
" Against distempered kings: who often are  
" Ill warrants for their own affairs; and weigh  
" Their lusts, more than their dignity, by far:  
" And what a misery they have that sway  
" Their great designs; what danger, and what care;  
" And often must be forced, being at their becks,  
" To crack their reputation, or their necks.   

85  
" How their high favours like as figtrees are,  
" That grow upon the sides of rocks; where they  
" Who reach their fruit, adventure must so far  
" As t' hazard their deep downfall and decay.  
" Their grace, not fixed; but, as a blazing star  
" burns out the present matter, and away:  
" And how the world could too well witness bear,  
" That both their loves and hates like dangerous were.   

86  
Thus he complains, and makes his home-retire;  
All disappointed of his purposes.  
For, hoping, by this Match, to hold entire  
That Lady, with her great alliances;  
And have the King more firm to his desire,  
By managing of both their businesses;  
He, by this Match (thus made without his mean)  
Comes barred from all those tying interests clean.   

87  
For, well he knew, that all his service past  
Was passed; and would not be a future tie  
To hold him in, unless that he could cast  
To introduce some near necessity  
Of his employment, that were like to last,  
And shut-out all other concurrency.  
Without which, nor his greatness, nor his Wits,  
Can ward him from the King's unconstant fits.   

88  
Which more perplexed him, and in nearer sort,  
Than what France might by his embassage guess,  
Or England deem, But, being arrived at Cort,  
He draws a traverse 'twixt his grievances;  
Looks like the time: his eye made not report  
Of what he felt within: nor was he less  
Then usually he was, in every part;  
Wore a clear face, upon a cloudy heart:   

89  
Congratulates the Queen; commends the King  
For his rare choice; protesting her to be  
Far beyond all, the world beside could bring  
To fit his liking; and that he did see  
The Lady Bona was a peevish thing,  
Sullayne, and proud; and would in no degree  
Have pleased his humour, or in any sort  
Have satisfied the Ladies of this Cort.   

90  
And, after having finished all the rite  
Of complement and interuisiting;  
He humbly craves dismissal that he might  
Retire a while, t' attend the managing  
And setting of his country-bus'nesse right;  
Whereby the better to attend the King:  
From whom he parts; and never seemed more dear,  
More graced, nor yet himself offre'er cheer.   

91  
First, Warwick-Castle (that had seldom known  
The master there) he visits; and from thence  
Goes to other goodly manours of his own.  
Where seen with joy, with love, with reverence;  
(King of himself,) he finds that there is shown  
The use of life, the true magnificence,  
T'enjoy his greatness: which, at Corte, in vain  
Men toyle-for, and yet never do attain.   

92  
Which, his religious Confessor (who best  
Can cast, with what a violent access,  
This fever of Ambition did molest  
His still-sick mind) takes hold-on; to address  
(upon th'advantage of this little rest)  
Some lenitives, t'allay the firynesse  
Of this disease; which (as a malady,  
Seized in the Spirits) hath seldom remedy.   

93  
" And thus sets on him: See, my Lord, how here  
" Th'eternal providence of God hath brought  
" You to the Shore of safety (out of fear)  
" From all the waves of misery, that wrought  
" To over-whelm you; and hath set you clear,  
" Where you would be; with having (which you sought  
" Through all these hazards of distress) a King  
" Of your own making and establishing.   

94  
" And now, my Lord, I trust you will sit down,  
" And rest you, after all this passed thrall,  
" And be yourself (a Prince within your own)  
" Without aduent'ring any more at all  
" Your state in others bottoms; having known  
" The dangers that on mighty Actors fall;  
" Since, in the foot of your accounts, your gains  
" Come-short to make even reckoning with your pains.   

95  
" enjoy now what you wrought-for, in this sort  
" (If great-man's ends be to enjoy their ends)  
" And know, the happiest power, the greatest port,  
" Is only that which on itself depends.  
" here have you State enough to be a Cort  
" unto yourself; here, where the world attends  
" On you, not you on it, observed sole:  
" You, elsewhere but a part, are here the whole.   

96  
" Th'advantages of Princes, are (we see)  
" But things conceived imaginarily.  
" For, every state of fortune, in degree,  
" Some image hath of principality:  
" Which they enjoy more natural and free,  
" Then can great Powers, chained with observancy,  
" And with the fetters of respect still tied;  
" Being easier far to follow then to guide.   

97  
" And what are Corts, but Camps of misery?  
" That do besiege men's states, and still are priest  
" T'assail, prevent, complot, and fortify;  
" In hope t'attain, in fear to be suppressed:  
" Where, all with shows, and with apparency,  
" Men seem, as if for stratagems addressed:  
" Where, Fortune, as the wolf, doth still prefer  
" The foulest of the train that follows her.   

98  
" And where, fair hopes are laid (as ambushments)  
" To intercept your life, and to betray  
" Your liberty to such entanglements,  
" As you shall never-more get clear away:  
" Where, both th'engagement of your own intents,  
" And others reckonings, and accounts, shall lay  
" Such weights upon you, as you shall not part,  
" unless you break your credit, or your heart.   

99  
" Besides: as exiles, ever from your homes  
" You live perpetual in disturbancy;  
" Contending, thrusting, shuffling for your rooms  
" Of ease or honour, with impatiency:  
" Building your fortunes, upon others tombs,  
" For other than your own posterity.  
" You see, Corts few advance; many undo:  
" And those they do advance, they ruin too.   

100  
" And therefore now, my Lord, since you are here,  
" Where you may have your rest with dignity;  
" work that you may continue so: and clear  
" yourself, from out these straits of misery.  
" Hold your estate and life, as things more dear  
" than to be thrown at an uncertainty.  
" 'tis time, that you and England have a calm;  
" And time, the olive stood above the palm.   

101  
Thus the good Father, with an humble thought  
(Bred in a Cellularie low retire)  
According to his quiet humour, sought  
T'auert him from his turbulent desire;  
" When the great Earl began: Father, I note  
" What you with zeal advise, with love require:  
" And I must thank you, for this care you have,  
" And for those good advertisements you gave.   

102  
" And truly, Father, could I but get free  
" (Without being rend) and hold my dignity;  
" That Sheep-cot, which in yonder vale you see  
" (Beset with groves, and those sweet Springs hard-by)  
" I rather would my Palace wish to be,  
" Then any roof, of proudest majesty:  
" But, that I cannot do; I have my part:  
" And I must live, in one house, with my heart.   

103  
" I know, that I am fixed unto a Sphere  
" That is ordained to move. It is the place  
" My fate appoints me; and the region where  
" I must, whatever happens, there, embrace,  
" Disturbance, travail, labour, hope and fear,  
" Are of that Clime, engendered in that place.  
" And action best, I see, becomes the Best.  
" The stars, that have most glory, have no rest.   

104  
" Besides: it were a coward's part, to fly  
" Now from my hold, that have held out so well;  
" It being the Station of my life, where I  
" Am set to serve, and stand as sentinel:  
" And must, of force, make good the place, or die,  
" When Fate and Fortune (those great States) compel.  
" And then, we Lords in such case ever are,  
" As peace can cut our throats aswell as war.   

105  
" And hath her griefs, and her encumbrances:  
" And doth with idle rest, deform us more  
" than any Magha can, or sorceress,  
" With basely wasting all the martial store  
" Of heat and spirit (which graceth manliness)  
" And makes us still false images adore:  
" Besides profusion of our faculties,  
" In gross dull glutt'ny, vaporous gormandize.   

106  
" And therefore since I am the man I am,  
" I must not give a foot, lest I give all.  
" Nor is this Bird within my breast so tame,  
" As to be fed at hand, and mocked withal.  
" I rather would my state were out of frame,  
" Then my renown should come to get a fall.  
" No, no: th'ungrateful boy shall never think,  
" That I, who him enlarged to power, will shrink.   

107  
" What is our life, without our dignity?  
" Which oft, we see, comes less by living long.  
" Who ever was there worth the memory,  
" And eminent indeed, but still died young?  
" As if worth had agreed with destiny,  
" That time, which rights them, should not do them wrong.  
" Besides; Old-age doth give, by too long space,  
" Our souls as many wrinkles as our face.   

108  
" And as for my inheritance and state  
" (What ever happen) I will so provide  
" That Law shall, with what strength it hath, collate  
" The same on mine, and those to mine allied:  
" Although I know, she serves a present State,  
" And can undo again what she hath tied.  
" But, that we leave to him, who poynts-out heirs:  
" And howsoever, yet the world is theirs.   

109  
" Where, they must work it out; as borne to run  
" Those Fortunes, which as mighty Families  
" (As ever they could be) before have done.  
" Nor shall they gain, by mine indignities,  
" Who may without my courses be undone.  
" And whoso makes his State, and life, his ties  
" To do unworthily, is borne a slave:  
" And let him with that brand go to his grave.   

110  
Here, would the reverent Father have replied,  
That it were far more magnanimity,  
T'endure, then to resist: that we are tied  
As well to bear the inconveniency  
And strains of Kings and States; as to abide  
Untimely rains, tempests, sterility,  
And other ills of Nature that befall:  
Which we, of force, must be content withal:   

111  
But that a speedy messenger was sent  
To show, the D. of Clarence was hard-by.  
And, thereupon, Warwick breakes-off, and went  
(With all his train attending formally)  
To entertain him, with fit complement;  
As, glad of such an opportunity  
To work upon, for those high purposes  
He had conceived in discontentedness.   
The end of the eighth book.   

 

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

   

Faults escaped.  
Page. Line. Faults. Corrections. 40. 24. all call 61. 9 This 'tis 204. 14. our one.