THE ARGVMENT OF THE FIRST BOOKE.
What times forgoe
Richard the seconds raigne:
The fatall causes of this ciuile warre
His Vnckles pride, his greedte Minions gaine,
Glosters reuolt, and death dcliuered are:
Herford accusd, exild, calld backe againe,
Pretends t'amend what others Rule did marre.
The King from
Ireland, hastes but did no good,
Whilst strange prodigious signes foretoken bloud.
1
I Sing the ciuil warrs, tumultuous broyles,
And bloudy factions of a mighty land:
VVhose people hauty, proud with forain spoyles
Vpon themselues, turne back their conquering hand:
VVhilst Kin their Kin, brother the brother foyles,
Like Ensignes all against like Ensignes band:
Bowes against bowes, the Crowne against the crowne,
vvhil'st all pretending right, all right throwen downe.
2
What furie, ô what madnes held you so
Deare people to too prodigall of bloud?
To wast so much and warre without a foe,
Whilst
France to see your spoyles, at pleasure stood;
How much might you haue purchasd with lesse wo?
Thaue done you honor and your Nephewes good,
Yours might haue beene what euer lies betweene
The
Perenei and
Alps, Aquitayne, and
Rbeine.
3
And yet ô God wee haue no cause to plaine
Since hereby came, the quiet calme we ioye
The blisse of thee ELIZA, happie gaine
For all our losse; for that no other waye
The heauens could find, then vnite againe
The fatall seu'red families; that they
Might bring forth thee; that in thy peace might grow
That glory which no age could euer show.
4
O sacred Goddesse, I no muse but thee
Invoke in this great worke I now entend,
Do thou inspire my thoughts, infuse in mee
A power to bring the same to happie end:
Raise vp a worke for latter times to see
That may thy glorie and my paines commend:
Strengthen thy subiect strang thinges to rehearse
And giue peace to my life, life to my verse.
5
And thou
Charles Mountioy borne the worldes
That hast receiu'd into thy quiet shore delight,
Me tempest-driuen fortune-tossed wight,
Tir'd with expecting and could hope no more:
And cheerest on my better yeares to write
A sadder Subiect then I tooke before,
Receiue the worke I consecrate to thee
Borne of that rest which thou dost giue to mee.
6
And MEMORIE, preseruresse of thinges done,
Come thou, vnfold the wounds, the wracke, the wast,
Reucale to me how all the strife begunne
Twixt
Lancaster and
Yorke in ages past.
How causes, counsels and euents did runne
So long as these vnhappie times did last,
Vnintermixt with fictions, fantasies;
I versifie the troth, not poetize.
7
And to the end we maie with better ease
Iudge the true progresse; here bigin to showe
What weare the times fore going nere to thease,
That these we maie with better profit knowe:
Tell how the world fell into this disease
And how so great distemperature did growe,
So shall we see by what degrees it came
How thinges grown full, do sone grow out of frame.
8
Ten kings had now raignd of the
Norman race
With variable fortune turning chaunce,
All in two hundreth sixtie one yeares space,
When
Edward third of name and first of
Fraunce
Possest the crowne in fortunes highest grace;
And did to greatest state, his state aduaunce,
When
England might the largest limits see
That euer any king attaind but hee.
9
For most of all the rest, toyld in vnrest
What with wrong titles, what with inward broyl,
Hardlie a true establishment possest
Of what they sought with such exceeding toyle;
For why their power within it self opprest,
Scarce could breake forth to greatnes al that while;
Such wo the childhood of this state did passe
Before it could attaine to what it wasse.
10
For first the
Norman conquering all by might,
William the Conquerour.
By might was forst to keepe what hee had got:
Altring the lawes, chaunging the forme of
Right,
And placing barbarous Customes he had brought:
Maistring the mighty, humbling the poorer wight
With grieuous taxes tyranie had sought,
Scarce laide th'assured groundes to build vpon
The chaunge so hatefull in such course begon.
11
William his sonne tracing the selfesame wayes
William Rufus.
The great outworne with war, or slaine in peace
Onely vpon depressed weakenes prayes,
And treades down what was likeliest to increase,
Those that were left, being left to wofull daies,
Had onely powre to wish for some release:
Whilst giuing beastes what did to men pertaine
Tooke for a beast himselfe was after slaine.
12
Henrie his brother raignes when he had donne
Henry 1.
(Who
Roberts title better to reiect)
The
Norman Duke the Conquerours first sonne,
Lightens in shew, rather then in effect
Those greeuances, his fatall race begunne
Reformes the lawes which soone he did neglect:
Whose sons being drownd for whō he did prepare
Leaues crowne & strif to
Maud his daughters care.
13
Whom
Stephen his Nephew (falsifying his oath)
Preuents; assailes the Realm; obtaines the crown:
King Stephen.
Raising such tumults as torment them both
Whil'st both held nothing certainlie their owne.
Th'afflicted Realme deuided in their troth,
And partiall faith; most miserable growne,
Endures the while; till peace and
Stephens death
Conclude some hope, of quiet; to take breath.
14
The sonne of
Maud (from
Saxon bloud deriu'd
Henry 2.
By mothers line) succeeds th'vnrightfull king
Henrie the second, in whose raigne reuiu'd
Th'oppressed state and first began to spring,
And ô if he had not beene too long liu'd
T'haue seene th'affliction that his age did bring
By his vngodly sonnes; then happie man,
For they against him warr'd, for whom hewan
15
All
Ireland, Scotland, th'Iles of
Orcades,
Poytiers, Guienna, Brittany hee got,
And leades forth sorrow from it selfe to thease,
Recouers strength at home so feeble brought:
Giues courage to the strong, to weaker ease;
Ads to the state what
England neuer sought:
Who him succeed (the forraine bloud out growne)
Are home born kings by speech and birth our owne.
16
Lo hitherto the new borne state in teares
Was in her raw and wayling infancie,
During a hundred two and twentie yeares
Vnder the hand of straungers tyranny:
And now some better strength and youth appeares
Which promises a glad recouery:
For hard beginnings haue the greatest states
What with their owne, or neighbourers debates.
17
Euen like to
Rheine which in his birth opprest,
Strangled almost with rocks and mightie hils,
Workes out a way to come to better rest,
Wars with the mountaines, striues against their wils:
Bringes forth his streames in vnitie possest
Into the quiet bed he proudlie fils,
Carrying that greatnes which he cannot keepe
Vnto his death and buriall in the deepe:
18
So did the worldes proud
Mistres Rome at first
Striue with a hard beginning, warr'd with need;
Forcing her strong Confiners to the worst,
And in her bloud her greatnes first did breed:
So
Spaine at home with
Moores ere forth it burst
Did practize long and in it selfe did bleed;
So did our state begin with her owne woundes
To try her strength ere it enlarg'd her boundes.
19
But now comes
Richard to succeed his fire,
Rich. t.
Who much the glorie of our armes increast,
His fathers limits bound not his desire
He spreeds the English Ensignes in the East:
And whilst his vertues would haue raisd him hyer
Treason, and malice his great actions ceast:
A faithles brother and a fatall king
Cut off his growth of glory in the spring.
20
Which wicked brother contrarie to course
K.Iolm.
False
John vsurpes his
Nephew Arthurs right,
Gets to the crowne by craft, by wrong, by force,
Rules it with lust, oppression, rigor, might:
Murders the lawfull heire without remorse,
Wherefore procuring all the worldes despight,
A Tyrant loth'd, a homicide conuented
Poysoned he dies, disgrac'd and vnlamented.
21
Henrie his sonne is chosen king, though young
Henry 3.
And
Lewes of
Fraunce (elected first) beguilde,
After the mightie had debated long,
Doubtfull to choose a straunger or a child:
With him the Barons (in these times grown strōg)
Warre for their auncient lawes so long exild.
He graunts the
Charter that pretended ease
And kept his owne, yet did his owne appease.
22
Edward his sonne a martiall king succeedes
Iust, prudent, graue, religious, fortunate:
Edwa.1.
Whose happy ordred raigne most fertile breeds
Plentie of mightie spirits to strength his state,
And worthy mindes, to manage worthy deeds
Th' experience of those times ingenerate:
For euer great imployment for the great
Quickens the bloud and honour doth beget.
23
And had not his mis-lead lasciuious sonne
Edward.1.
Edward the second, intermitted so
The course of glorie happilie begunne
Which brought him, and his fauorites to woe:
That happy current without stop had runne
Vnto the full of his sonne
Edwards flo:
But who hath often seene in such a state,
Father and sonne like good, like fortunate.
24
But now this great succeeder all repaires,
Edward.3.
And rebrings-backe that discontinued good,
He buildes vp strength and greatnes for his heires
Out of the vertues that adornd his bloud:
He makes his subiects Lords of more then theirs,
And sets their bounds farre wider then they stood:
Could greatnes haue but kept what he had gote
It was enough he did, and what he wrought.
25
And had his heire surviu'd him in due course,
Edward the black prince who died before his father.
What limits England hadst thou found, what barre?
What world could haue resisted so great force?
O more then men! two thunderbolts of warre,
Why did not time your ioined worth diuorse
T'haue made your seuerall glories greater farre?
Too prodigall was nature thus to doe,
To spend in one age, what should serue for two.
26
But now the scepter in this glorious state
Rich, 2. 1
Supported with strong powre and victorie
Was left vnto a child, ordain'd by fate
To stay the course of what might grow too hie:
Here was a stop that greatnes did abate
When powre vpon so weake a base did lie,
For lest great fortune should presume too farre
Such oppositions interposed are.
27
Neuer this Iland better peopled stood,
Neuer more men of might, and mindes addrest,
Neuer more Princes of the royall bloud,
(If not too many, for the publique rest)
Nor euer was more treasure, wealth and good,
Then when this
Richard first the crowne possest
Second of name, a name in two accurst,
And well we might haue mist all but the first.
28
In this mans raigne began this fatall strife
The bloudy argument where of we treate;
That dearely cost so many' a Prince his life;
That spoild the weake, & euen consum'd the great,
That, wherein all calamitie was rife
That memory euen grieues her to repeate
And would that time would now this knowledge lose,
But that tis good to learne by others woes.
29
Edward the third being dead, had left this child
Sonne of his worthy sonne deceasd of late
The crowne and Scepter of this Realme to wield,
Appointing the protectors of his state
Two of his sonnes to be his better shield,
Supposing vnckles free from guile or hate
Would order all things for his better good,
In the respect and honour of their bloud.
30
Of these
John Duke of
Lancaster was one,
(Too great a subiect growne, for such a state
The title of a king and what h'had done
In great exploits his mind did eleuate
Aboue proportion kingdomes stand vpon,
Which made him push at what his issue gate)
The other
Edmond Langley, whose milde sprite
Affected quiet and a safe delight.
31
With these did interpose his proud vnrest
Thomas of woodstocke, one most violent,
Impatient of command, of peace, of rest,
Whose brow would shew, that which his hart had ment:
His open malice and repugnant brest
Procur'd much mischiefe by his discontent:
And these had all the charge of king and state,
Till by himselfe he might it ordinate.
32
And in the first yeares of this gouernement,
Things past, as first; the warres in
Fraunce proceede
Though not with that same fortune and euent
Being now not followed with such carefull heed,
Our people here at home growne discontent
Through great exactions insurrections breed,
Priuate respectes hindred the common weale,
And idle ease doth on the mighty steale.
33
Too many kings breed factions in the court,
The head too weake, the members grown too great:
O this is that which kingdomes doth transport,
This plague the heauens do for iniustice threat
When children rule, who euer in this sort
Confound the state their auncestors did get;
For the ambitious once inur'd to raigne
Can neuer brooke a priuate state againe.
34
And kingdomes euer suffer this distresse,
For one or manie guide the infant king,
Which one or manie, tasting this excesse
Of greatnes and command; can neuer bring
Their thoughts againe t'obay or to be lesse:
From hence these insolencies euer spring,
Contempt of others whom they seeke to foile,
Then follow leagues, destruction, ruine, spoile.
35
Whether it were that they which had the charge
Suffred the king to take a youthfull vaine,
That they their priuate better might inlarge:
Or whether he himselfe would farther straine
(Thinking his yeares sufficient to discharge
The gouernment) presumd to take the raigne,
We will not saie: but now his eare he lendes
To youthfull counsell, and his lusts attends.
36
And courts were neuer barren yet of those
Which could with subtle traine and apt aduise
Worke on the Princes weakenes, and dispose
Of feeble frailtie easiest to intice:
And such no doubt about this king arose,
Whose flattery (the daungerous nurse of vice)
Got hand vpon his youth to pleasures bent
Which lead by them did others discontent.
37
For now his vnckles grew much to mislike
These ill proceedings; were it that they saw,
That others fauor'd did aspiring seeke
Their nephew from their counsels to withdraw,
Seeing his nature flexible and mecke,
Because they onely would keepe all in awe:
Or that indeed they found the king and state
Abusde by such as now in office sate.
38
Or rather else they all were in the fault,
Th' ambitious vnckles, th' indiscreet young king,
The greedy counsell and the Minions naught,
And all togither did this tempest bring;
Besides the times withall iniustice fraught,
Concurr'd in this confusd disordering,
That we may truly say this spoild the state;
Youthfull Counsell, priuate gaine, partiall hate.
39
And sure the king plainly discouereth
Apparant cause his vnckles to suspect;
For
John of
Gaunt was said to seeke his death
By secret meanes, which came not to effect:
The Duke of
Gloster like wise practiseth
In open world that all men might detect
And leagues his Nobles, and in greatest strength
Rises in armes against him too at length.
40
Vnder pretence from him to take away
Such as they said the states oppressors weare,
To whom the Realme was now become a pray;
The chiefe of whom they nam'd was
Robert Vere
Then Duke of Ireland; bearing greatest sway
About the king, who held him only dere,
Him they would haue remou'd and diuers more,
Or else would neuer lay downe armes they swore.
41
The king was forst in that next Parliment
To grant them what he durst not well refuse,
For thither arm'd they came and fully bent
To suffer no repulse nor no excuse:
And here they did accomplish their intent
Where iustice did her sword, not ballance vse:
For euen that sacred place they violate
And there arest the Iudges as they sate.
42
Which soone with many others had their end,
Cruelly slaine without the course of right,
And still these warres that publique good pretend
Worke most iniustice being done for spight:
For the agrieued euermore doe bend
Against those whom they see of greatest might,
Who though themselues are wrong'd & often forst,
Yet for they can doe most are thought the worst.
43
And yet I doe not seeme herein to excuse
The Iustices, and Minions of the king
Which might their office and their grace abuse,
But onely blame the course of managing:
For great men too well grac'd much rigor vse;
Presuming fauorites mischiefe euer bring;
So that concluding I may boldly speake,
Minions too great, argue a king too weake.
44
Now that so much was granted as was sought,
A reconcilement made although not ment
Appeasd them all in shew, but not in thought
Whilst euery one seem'd outwardlie content:
Though hereby king, nor peeres, nor people got
More loue, more strength, or easier gouerment;
But euery day things now succeeded worse,
For good from kings must not be drawne by force.
45
And this it lo continued till by chance
The Queene (which was the emperours daughter) dy'de;
When as the king t' establish peace with
Fraunce
And better for home quiet to prouide,
Sought by contracting marriage to aduance
His owne affaires against his vnckles pride:
Tooke the young daughter of king
Charles to wife
Which after in the end raisd greater strife.
46
For now his vnckle Gloster much repin'd
Against this french aliance and this peace,
Hauing himselfe a working stirring mind
Which neuer was content the warres should cease:
Whether he did dishonourable finde
Those articles that did our boundes decrease,
And therfore storm'd because the crown had wrōg;
Or that he fear'd the king would grow too strong;
47
Or whatsoeuer mou'd him; this is sure
Hereby he wrought his ruine in the end,
And was a fatall cause that did procure
The swift approching mischiefes that attend:
For lo the king no longer could indure
Thus to be crost in what he did intend,
And therefore watcht but some occasion fit
T' attach the Duke when he thought least of it.
48
And fortune now to further this intent
The great
Earle of
S.Paule doth hither bring,
From
Charles of
Fraunce vnto the young Q. sent
To see both her and to salute the king:
To whom he shewes his vnckles discontent
And of his secret dangerous practising,
How he his subiects sought to fulleuare
And breake the league with
Fraunce concluded late.
49
To whom the suttle
Earle forthwith replies,
Great Prince it is within your power with ease,
To remedy such feares, such ielousies,
And rid you of such mutiners as thease;
By cutting off that which might greater rise,
And now at first preuenting this disease,
And that before he shall your wrath disclose,
For who threates first means of reuenge doth lose.
50
First take his head, then tell the reason why,
Stand not to finde him guilty by your lawes,
Easier you shall with him your quarrell try
Dead then aliue who hath the better cause:
For in the murmuring vulgar vsually
This publique course of yours compassion drawes,
Especially in cases of the great
Which worke much pitty in the vndiscreat.
51
And this is sure though his offence be such,
Yet doth calamitie attract commorse,
And men repine at Princes bloudshed much
How iust-socuer iudging tis by force:
I know not how their death giues such a tuch
In those that reach not to a true discourse;
That so shall you obseruing formall right
Be still thought as vniust and win more spight.
52
And oft the cause, may come preuented so,
And therefore when tis done, let it be heard;
So shall you hereby scape your priuate wo
And satisfie the world to, afterward:
What need you weigh the rumors that shall go?
What is that breath being with your life compard?
And therefore if you will be rul'd by me
Strangled or poison'd secret let him be.
53
And then araigne the chiefe of those you find
Were of his faction secretly compact,
Whom you maie wisely order in such kind
That you maie such confessions then exact,
As both you maie appease the peoples mind
And by their death much aggrauate the fact:
So shall you rid your selfe of dangers quite
And shew the world that you haue done but right.
54
This counsell vttred vnto such an eare
As willing listens to the safest waies,
Workes on the yeelding matter of his feare,
Which easelie to any course obeies:
For euerie Prince seeing his daunger neere
By anie meanes his quiet peace assaies:
And still the greatest wronges that euer were
Haue then bin wrought when kings were put in fear.
55
And long it was not ere he apprehendes
The Duke, who close to
Calice was conuei'd,
And th' Earles of
Arundell and
Warwike sendes,
Both in close prisons strongly to be laid;
And soone the Duke his life vnquiet endes,
Strangled in secret ere it was bewraide;
And
Arundell was put to publike death,
But
Warwike by great meanes he banisheth.
56
And for his person he procures a guard
A thousand Archers daily to attend,
Which now vpon the act he had prepard
As th' argument his actions to defend:
But yet the world had now conceiu'd so hard
That all this nought auaild him in the end:
In vaine with terror is he fortified
That is not guarded with firme loue beside.
57
Now storme his vnckles albeit in vaine,
For that no remedy they could deuise,
They might their sorrowes inwardly complaine,
But outwardly they needs must temporise:
The king was great, and they should nothing gaine
T'attempt reuenge or offer once to rise,
This league with
Fraunce had made him now so strong
That they must needs as yet indure this wrong.
58
For like a Lion that escapes his bounds
Hauing bin long restraind his vse to straie,
Raunges the restles woods, staies on no ground,
Riottes with bloudshed, wantons on his praie:
Seckes not for need but in his pride to wound,
Glorying to see his strength and what he may;
So this vnbridled king freed of his feares
In libertie himselfe thus wildly beares.
59
For standing on himselfe he sees his might
Out of the compasse of respectiue awe,
And now beginnes to violate all right
While no restraining feare at hand he saw:
Now he exactes of all, wasts in delight,
Riots in pleasure, and neglects the law;
He thinkes his crowne is licensd to do ill
That lesse should list, that may do what it will.
60
Thus b'ing transported in this sensuall course
No frend to warne, no counsell to withstand,
He still proceedeth on from bad to worse,
Sooth'd in all actions that he tooke in hand
By such as all impiety did nurse,
Commending euer what he did commaund:
Vnhappy kings that neuer may be taught
To know themselues or to discerne their fault.
61
And whilst all sylent grieue at what is donne,
The Duke of Herford then of courage bold
And worthily great Iohn of
Gaunts first sonne
Vtters the passion which he could not hold,
In sad discourse vpon this course begun,
Which he to
Mowbray Duke of Norfolke told;
To th' end he being great about the king
Might doe some good by better counselling.
62
The faithles Duke that presentlie takes hold
Froisart. Pol. Virg. & Hall, der huer it in this sort.
Of such aduantage to insinuate
Hastes to the king, peruerting what was told,
And what came of good minde he makes it hate:
The king that might not now be so controld
Or censur'd in his course, much frets thereat;
Sendes for the Duke, who doth such wordes deny
And craues the combate of his enemy.
63
Which straight was granted, and the daie assign'd
When both in order of the field appeare
To right each other as th' euent should find,
And now both euen at point of combate were
When lo the king changd sodenly his mind,
Casts downe his warder and so staies them there,
As better now aduisd what waie to take
Which might for his assured safety make.
64
For now considering (as it likely might)
The victorie should hap on
Herfords side,
A man most valiant and of noble sprite,
Belou'd of all, and euer worthy tride:
How much he might be grac'd in publique sight
By such an act as might aduance his pride,
And so become more popular by this,
Which he feares, too much he already is.
65
And therefore he resolues to banish both,
Though th' one in chiefest fauour with him stood,
A man he dearely lou'd and might be loth
To leaue him that had done him so much good:
Yet hauing cause to do as now he doth
To mitigate the enuie of his bloud,
Thought best to loose a friend, to rid a foe,
And such a one as now he doubted so.
66
And therefore to perpetuall exile hee
Mowbray condemnes;
Herford but for ten yeares:
Thinking (for that the wrong of this decree
Compard with greater rigour lesse appeares)
It might of all the better liked be:
But yet such murmuring of the fact he heares,
That he is faine foure of the ten forgiue,
And iudg'd him sixe yeares in exile to liue.
67
At whose departure hence out of the land,
O how the open multitude reueale
The wondrous loue they bare him vnderhand,
Which now in this hote passion of their zeale
They plainely shewde that all might vnderstand
How deare he was vnto the common weale:
They feard not to exclaime against the king
As one that sought all good mens ruining.
68
Vnto the shore with teares, with sighes, with mone
They him conduct, cursing the bounds that staie
Their willing feete that would haue further gone
Had not the fearefull
Ocean stopt their way:
Why
Neptune hast thou made vs stand alone
Deuided from the world, for this say they?
Hemd in to be a spoile to tyranny
Leauing affliction hence no way to flie?
69
Are we lockt vp poore soules, here t'abide
Within the watery prison of thy waues,
As in a fold, where subiect to the pride
And lust of rulers we remaine as slaues?
Here in the reach of might, where none can hide
From th' eie of wrath, but onely in their graues?
Happy confiners you of other landes
That shift your soile and oft scape tyrants hands.
70
Ah must we leaue him here; that here were fit
We should retaine the pillar of our state;
Whose vertues well deserue to gouerne it,
And not this wanton young effeminate?
Why should not he in regall honour sit,
That best knowes how a realme to ordinate?
Yet one daie ô we hope thou shalt bring backe
Deare
Bullingbrooke the iustice that we lacke.
71
Thus muttred lo the malecontented sort
That loue kings best before they haue them still,
And neuer can the present state comport,
But would as oft change as they change their will:
For this good Duke had wonne them in this sort
By suckring them and pittying of their ill,
That they supposed straight it was one thing,
To be both a good man, and a good king.
72
When as the grauer sort that saw the course
And knew that Princes maie not be controlde,
Likt wel to suffer this for feare of worse;
Since many great, one kingdome cannot hold:
For now they saw intestine strife of force
The apt-deuided state intangle would,
If he should stay whom they would make their head,
By whom the vulgar body might be lead.
73
They saw likewise that Princes oft are faine
To buy their quiet with the price of wrong:
And better twere that now a few complaine
Then all should morne, aswell the weake as strong:
Seeing how little
Realmes by change doe gaine,
And therefore learned by obseruing long
T' admire times past, follow the present will
Wish for good Princes, but t' indure the ill.
74
For when it nought awailes what folly then
To striue against the current of the time?
Who will throw downe himselfe for other men
That make a ladder by his fall to clime?
Or who would seeke t'imbroile his country when
He might haue rest; suffering but others crime?
Since wisemen euer haue preferred farre
Th' vniustest peace, before the iustest warre.
75
Thus they considered that in quiet fate,
Rich or content, or else vnfit to striue:
Peace louer-wealth, hating a troublous state
Doth willing reasons for their rest contriue:
But if that all were thus considerate
How should in court the great, the fauour'd thriue?
Factions must be and these varieties,
And some must fall that other some may rise.
76
But long the Duke remaind not in exile
Before that
Iohn of
Gaunt his father dies,
Vpon whose state the king seasd 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 mindes of all
That they resolu'd him home againe to call
77
For now they saw twas malice in the king
Transported in his il-conceiued thought,
That made him so to prosecute the thing
Against all law and in a course so naught:
And this aduantage to the Duke did bring
Fitter occasions whereupon he wrought:
For to a man so strong and of such might
He giues him more, that takes away his right.
78
The king, in this meane time, I know not how
Was drawne into some actions forth the land,
T' appease the
Irish that reuolted now;
And there attending what he had in hand
Neglects those parts from whence worse daungers grow,
As ignorant how his affaires did stand:
Whether the plot was wrought it should be so,
Or that his fate did draw him on to go.
79
Certaine it is that he committed here
An ignorant and idle ouersight,
Not looking to the Dukes proceedings there,
Being in the court of
Fraunce where best he might,
Where both the king and all assured were
T' haue stopt his course being within their right:
But being now exild he thought him sure
And free from farther doubting liu'd secure.
80
So blindes the sharpest counsels of the wise
This ouershadowing prouidence on hie,
And dazeleth the clearest sighted eies,
That they see not how nakedly they lie:
There where they little thinke the storme doth rise,
And ouercasts their cleare security:
When man hath stopt al waies saue only that
That (least suspected) ruine enters at.
81
And now was all disorder in th' excesse
And whatsoeuer doth a change portend,
As idle luxury, and wantonnes,
Proteus-like varying pride, vaine without end:
Wrong-worker
Riot, motiue to oppresse,
Endles exactions, which the idle spend,
Consuming vsury and credits crackt,
Cald on this purging warre that many lackt.
82
Then ill perswading want in martiall minds,
And wronged patience, long opprest with might,
Loosenes in all, which no religion bindes,
Commaunding force the measure made of right,
Gaue suell to this fire, that easie findes
The way t'inflame the whole indangerd quite:
These were the publique breeders of this warre,
By which stil greatest states confounded are.
83
For now this peace with
Fraunce had shue in here
The ouergrowing humours warres doe spend,
For where t' cuacuate no employments were
Widerth' vnwildy burthen doth distend;
Men wholy vsd to warre, peace could not beare;
As knowing no course else whereto to bend:
For brought vp in the broiles of these two Realmes,
They thought best fishing still in troubled streames.
84
Like to a riuer that is stopt his course
Doth violate his bankes, breakes his owne bed,
Destroies his bounds and ouer-runs by force
The neighbour fields irregularly spread:
Euen so this sodaine stop of warre doth nurse
Home broiles within it selfe, from others lead:
So dangerous the change hereof is tride
Ere mindes come soft or otherwise imploid.
85
And all this makes for thee, ô
Bullingbrooke,
To worke a waie vnto thy Soueraintie;
This care the heauens, fate and fortune tooke
To bring thee to thy scepter easily:
Vpon the fals that hap which him forsooke
Who crownd a king, a king yet must not die,
Thou wert ordaind by prouidence to raise
A quarrell lasting longer then thy daies.
86
For now this absent king out of his land,
Where though he shew'd great sprite and valor then,
(Being attended with a worthy band
of valiant Peeres, and most couragious men)
Gaue time to them at home that had in hand
Th' vngodly worke and knew the season when;
Who faile not to aduise the Duke with speed,
Solliciting to what he soone agreed.
87
For presently vpon so good report,
He doth with cunning traine and pollicy
Conuay himselfe out of the French kings court
Vnder pretence to go to Brittanie:
And with his followers that to him resort
Landed in England. Welcom'd ioyfully
Of th' altring vulgar apt for changes still
As headlong caried with a present will.
88
And com'd to quiet shore but not to rest,
The first night of his ioyfull landing here
A fearefull vision doth his thoughts molest,
Seeming to see in wofull forme appeare
A naked goodly woman all distrest,
Which with ful-weeping eies and rent-white haire,
Wringing her hands as one that grieud and praid,
With sighes commixt, with words it seem'd shee said.
89
O whither dost thou tend my vnkind sonne?
What mischiefe dost thou go about to bring
To her whose
Genius thou here lookst vpon,
Thy mother countrey whence thy selfe didst spring?
O whither dost thou in ambition run,
To change due course by foule disordering?
What bloudshed, ô what broyles dost thou cōmence
To last for many wofull ages hence?
90
Stay here thy foote, thy yet vnguilty foote,
That canst not stay when thou art farther in,
Retire thee yet vnstaind whilst it doth boote,
The end is spoile of what thou dost begin:
Iniustice neuer yet tooke lasting roote,
Nor held that long impiety did win:
The babes vnborne, shall ô be borne to bleed
In this thy quarrell if thou doe proceede.
91
Thus said shee ceast, when he in troubled thought
Grieu'd at this tale and sigh'd, and this replies:
Deare Country ô I haue not hither brought
These Armes to spoile but for thy liberties:
Tho sinne be on their head that this haue wrought
Who wrongd me first, and thee doe tyrannise;
I am thy Champion and I seeke my right,
Prouokt I am to this by others spight.
92
This this pretence faith shee, th' ambitious finde
To smooth iniustice, and to flatter wrong:
Thou dost not know what then will be thy mind
When thou shalt see thy selfe aduanc'd and strong:
When thou hast shak'd off that which others binde
Thou soone forgettest what thou learnedst long:
Men doe not know what then themselues will be
When as more then themselues, themselues they see.
93
And here withall turning about he wakes,
Lab'ring in sprite, troubled with this strange sight:
And musd a while, waking aduisement takes
Of what had past in sleepe and silent night.
Yet hereof no important reck'ning makes
But as a dreame that vanisht with the light:
The day designes, and what he had in hand
Left it to his diuerted thoughts vnskand.
94
Doubtfull at first, he warie doth proceed
Seemes not t' affect, that which he did effect,
Or els perhaps seemes as he ment indeed,
Sought but his owne, and did no more expect:
Then fortune thou art guilty of his deed,
That didst his state aboue his hopes erect,
And thou must beare some blame of his great sin
That left'st him worse then when he did begin.
95
Thou didst conspire with pride, and with the time
To make so easie an assent to wrong,
That he that had no thought so hie to clime,
(With fauoring comfort still allur'd along)
Was with occasion thrust into the crime,
Seeing others weakenes and his part so-strong:
And ô in such a case who is it will
Do good, and feare that maie liue free with ill.
96
We will not say nor thinke O
Lancaster,
But that thou then didst meane as thou didst swere
Vpon th' Euangelists at
Doncaster,
In th' eie of heauen, and that assembly there
That thou but as an vpright orderer
Sought'st to reforme th' abused kingdome here,
And get thy right, and what was thine before,
And this was all, thou would'st attempt no more.
97
Though we might say & thinke that this pretence
Was but a shadow to th' intended act,
Because th' euent doth argue the offence
And plainely seemes to manifest the fact:
For that hereby thou mightst win confidence
With those whom els thy course might hap distract,
And all suspition of thy drift remoue,
Since easily men credit whom they loue.
98
But God forbid we should so nerely pry
Into the low deepe buried sinnes long past
T' examine and conferre iniquity,
Whereof faith would no memory should last:
That our times might not haue t' exemplifie
With aged staines, but with our owne shame cast,
Might thinke our blot the first not done before,
That new-made sins might make vs blush the more.
99
And let vnwresting charity beleeue
That then thy oth with thy intent agreed,
And others faith, thy faith did first deceiue,
Thy after fortune forc'd thee to this deed:
And let no man this idle censure giue
Because th' euent proues so, twas so decreed:
For ô what counsels sort to other end
Then that which frailty did at first intend?
100
Whilst those that are but outward lookers on,
That cannot sound these misteries of state,
Deemes things were so contriu'd as they are done,
Holding that policie, that was but fate:
Wondring how strange twas wrought, how close begun,
And thinke all actions else did tend to that,
When ô how short they come, or cast too fare
Making the happy wiser then they are.
101
But by degrees he venters now on blood,
And sacrifiz'd vnto the peoples loue,
The death of those that chiefe in enuy stood
As th' Officers, who first these dangers proue:
The treasorer and those that they thought good,
Bushy and
Greene by death he must remoue,
These were the men the people thought did cause
Those great exactions and abusd the lawes.
102
This done, his cause was preacht with learned skil,
And th' Archbishop of Canterbury shew'd
A pardon sent from Rome, to all that will
Take part with him, and quit the faith they ow'd
To Richard, as a Prince vnfit and ill,
On whom the crowne was fatally bestow'd:
And easie-yeelding zeale was quickly caught
With what the mouth of grauity had taught.
103
O that this powre from euerlasting giuen
The great alliance made twixt God and vs,
Th' intelligence that earth doth hold with heauen,
Sacred religion, ô that thou must thus
Be made to smooth our waies vniust, vneuen,
Brought from aboue earth-quarrels to discusse,
Must men beguile our soules to winne our wils,
And make our zeale the furtherer of ils?
104
But the ambitious to aduance their might
Dispence with heauen and what religion would,
The armed will finde right, or else make right,
If this meanes wrought not, yet another should:
And this and other now doe all incite
To strength the faction that the Duke doth hold;
Who easily obtained what he sought,
His vertues and his loue so greatly wrought.
105
The king still busied in this
Irish warre
Which by his valour there did well succeede,
Had newes how here his Lords reuolted are,
And how the Duke of Herford doth proceed:
In these affaires he feares are growne too farre,
Hastes his returne from thence with greatest speed;
But was by tempests, windes, and seas debarr'd
As if they likewise had against him warr'd.
106
But at the length, though late, in wales he landes,
Where thorowly inform'd of
Henries force,
And well aduertisd how his owne case stands,
The Duke of Anibarle sonne to the Duke of Yorke.
Which to his griefe he sees tendes to the worse:
He leauest'
Aumarle, at
Milford all those bands
He brought from
Ireland; taking thence his course
To
Conwaie all disguisd with fourteene more
Toth' Earle of.
Salisburie thither sent before.
107
Thinking the
Earle had raisd some forces there
Whom there he findes for saken all alone,
The people in those partes which leuied were
B'ing closely shronke away dispersd and gone:
The king had stayed too long, and they in feare
Resolued euery man to shift for one,
At this amasd such fortune he laments,
Foresees his fall whereto each thing consents.
108
In this disturb'd tumultuous broken state,
Whilst yet th'euent stood doubtfull what should be,
Whilst nought but headlong running to debate
And glittering troupes and armor men might see:
Fury, and feare, compassion, wrath, and hate
Confusd through all the land no Corner free:
The strong all mad, to strife, to ruine bent;
The weaker waild, the aged they lament,
109
And blame their many yeares that liue so long
To see the horrour of these miseries:
Why had not we (said they) dyde with the strong
In forraine fields in honourable wise?
In iust exploits, and lawfull without wrong,
And by the valiant hand of enemies?
And not thus now reserued in our age
To home confusion and disordered rage.
110
Vnto the Temples flocke the weake deuout,
Sad wailing women, there to vow and pray
For husbands, brothers, or their sonnes gone out.
To bloudshed, whom nor tears, nor loue could stay:
Here graue religious fathers which much doubt
The sad euents these broyles procure them may,
As Prophets warne, exclaime, disswade these crimes
By the examples fresh of other times.
111
And ô what doe you now prepare said they,
Another conquest by these fatall waies?
What must your own hands make your selues a pray
To desolation, which these tumults raise?
What
Dane, what
Norman, shall prepare his way
To triumph on the spoile of your decaies?
That which nor France nor all the world could doe
In vnion, shall your discord, bring you to?
112
Conspire against vs neighbour nations all
That enuy at the height whereto w'are growne;
Coniure the barbarous North, and let them call
Straunge fury from far distant shores vnknowne,
And let them altogither on vs fall;
So to diuert the ruine of our owne,
That we forgetting what doth so incense
May turne the hand of malice to defence.
113
Calme these tempestuous spirits O mighty Lord,
This threatning storme that ouer hangs the land,
Make them consider ere they'vnsheath the sword
How vaine is th' earth, this point wheron they stand,
And with what sad calamities is stoor'd
The best of that, for which th' Ambitious band:
Labor the end of labor, strife of strife,
Terror in death and horrour after life.
114
Thus they in zeale whose humbled thoughts were good:
Whil'st in this wide spread volume of the skies,
The booke of prouidence disclosed stood,
Warnings of wrath, foregoing miseries;
In lines of fire and caracters of blood,
There fearefull formes in dreadfull flames arise,
Amazing Comets, threatning Monarches might
And new-seene starres, vnknowne vnto the night.
115
Red fiery dragons in the aire doe flie,
And burning Meteors, poynted-streaming lights,
Bright starres in midst of day appeare in skie,
Prodigious monsters, gastly fearefull sights:
Straunge Ghosts, and apparitions terrific,
The wofull mother her owne birth affrights,
Seeing a wrong deformed infant borne
Grieues in her paines, deceiu'd in shame doth morn.
116
The Earth as if afeard of bloud and woundes
Trembles in terror of these falling bloes:
The hollow concaues giue out groning sounds
And sighing, murmurs to lament our woes:
The Ocean all at discord with his boundes,
Reiterates his strange vntimely floes:
Nature all out of course to checke our course,
Neglects her worke to worke in vs remorse.
117
So great a wracke vnto it selfe doth lo
Disordered mortality prepare:
That this whole frame doth euen labour so
Her ruine vnto frailty to declare;
And trauailes to fore-signifie the wo,
That weake improuidence could not beware:
For heauen and earth, and aire and seas and all
Taught men to see, but not to shun their fall.
118
Is man so deare vnto the heauens that they
Respect the waies of earth, the workes of sin?
Doth this great all this vniuersall weigh
The vaine designes that weakenes doth begin?
Or doe our feare father of zeale make way
Vnto this errour ignorance liues in?
Making our faults the cause that moue these powres
That haue their cause from other cause then ours?
119
Or doe the conscience of our wicked decdes
Apply to sinne the terrour of these sights,
Hapning at the instant when commotion breedes
Amazing only timorous vulgar wights,
Who euer aggrauating that which feedes
Their feares, still find out matter that affrights,
Whilst th' impious fierce, neglecting seele no touch,
And weigh too light what other scare so much.
120
Ah no th' eternall powre that guides this frame
And serues him with the instruments of heauen
To call the earth and summon vp our shame,
By an edict from euerlasting giuen;
Forbids mortality to search the same,
Where sence is blind, and wit of wit bereauen
Terror must be our knowledge, feare our skill,
T' admire his worke and tremble at his will.
121
And these beginnings had this impious warre,
Th' vngodly bloudshed that did so defile
The beauty of thy fields, and euen did marre
The flowre of thy chiefe pride ô fairest Ile:
These were the causes that incensd so farre
The ciuil wounding hand inragd with spoile,
That now the liuing with afflicted eie
Looke backe with griefe on such calamity.
THE ARGVMENT OF THE SECOND BOOKE.
King
Richard mones his wrong and wailes his raigne:
And here betrayd to
London he is led,
Basely attyrd attending
Herfords traine,
Where th' one is skornd, the other welcomed.
His
Wife mistaking him doth much complaine
And both togither greatly sorrowed:
In hope to saue his life and ease his thrall
He yeelds vp state, and
Rule, and Crowne, and all.
1
IN dearth of faith and scarsity of friends,
The late great mighty monarch on the shore
In th' vtmost corner of his land attends
To call backe false obedience fled before:
Toyles, and in vaine, his toile and labour spends,
More hearts he sought to gaine he lost the more:
All turn'd their faces to the rising sunne
And leaues his setting-fortune night begun.
2
O
Percy how by thy example lead
This Percy was Earle of Woster, and brother to the Earle of Northumberland.
The household traine for sooke their wretched Lord,
When with thy staffe of charge dishonoured,
Thou brak'st thy faith, not steward of thy word,
And tookst his part that after tooke thy head:
When thine owne hand had strengthned first his
For such great merits doe obraid, and call
For great reward, or thinke the great too small.
3
And kings loue not to be beholding ought,
Which makes their chiefest friends oft speed the worst:
For those by whom their fortunes haue bin wrought
Put them in mind of what they were at first:
Whose doubtfull faith if once in question brought
Tis thought they will offend because they durst,
And taken in a fault are neuer spar'd,
Being casier to reuenge, then to reward.
4
And thus these mighty actors sonnes of change,
These partizanes of factions, often tride
That in the smoake of innouations strange
Build huge vncertaine plots of vnsure pride:
And on the hazard of a bad exchange
Haue venterd all the stocke of life beside,
Whilst Princes raisd, disdaine to haue beene raisd
By those whose helpes deserue not to be praisd.
5
O
Maiestie left naked all alone,
But with th' vnarmed title of thy right,
Those gallant troupes, thy fortune followers gone;
And all that pompe (the complements of might)
Th' amazing shadowes that are cast vpon
The eares of Princes, to be guile the sight,
Are vanisht cleane, and only frailty left
Thy selfe of all, besides thy selfe berest.
6
Like when some great
Colossus, whose strong base
Or mighty props are shronke or sunke awaie,
Fore-shewing ruine, threatning all the place
That in the danger of his fall doth stay,
All straight to better safetie flocke apace,
None rest to helpe the ruine while they maie:
The perill great and doubtfull there dresse,
Men are content to leaue right in distresse.
7
As stately
Thames inricht with many a flood,
And goodly riuers that haue made their graues
And buried both their names and all their good
Within his greatnes to augment his waues;
Glides on with pompe of waters vnwithstood
Vnto the
Ocean, which his tribute craues
And Taies vp all his wealth within that powre,
Which in it selfe all greatnes doth deuour.
8
So flocke the mightie with their following traine
Vnto the all-receiuing
Builing brooke,
Who wonders at himselfe how he should gaine
So manie hearts as now his partie tooke,
And with what ease and with how slender paine,
His fortune giues him more then he could looke,
What he imagind neuer could be wrought
Is powrd vpon him, farre beyond his thought.
9
So often things which seeme at first in shew
Without the compasse of accomplishment,
Once ventred on to that successe do grow,
That euen the Authors do admire th' euent:
So manie meanes which they did neuer know
Doe second their designes, and doe present
Straunge vnexpected helpes, and chiefly then
When th' Actors are reputed worthy men.
10
And
Richard who lookt fortune in the backe,
Sees headlong-lightnes running from the right,
Amazed stands to note how great a wracke
Of faith his riots causd, what mortall spight
The beare him, who did law and iustice lacke:
Sees how concealed hate breakes out in sight,
And feare-depressed enuy pent before
When fit occasion thus vnlockt the dore.
11
Like when some mastiue whelpe disposd to plaie
A whole confused heard of beastes doth chace,
Which with one vile consent run all awaie,
If any hardier then the rest in place
But turne the head that idle feare to stay,
Backe straight the daunted chaser turnes his face,
And all the rest with bold example led
As fastrun on him as before they fled.
12
So with this bold opposer rushes on
This many-headed monster
Multitude:
And he who late was feard is set vpon,
And by his owne
Actaeon-like pursude,
His owne that had all loue and awe forgone;
Whom breath and shadowes only did delude,
And newer hopes which promises perswade:
Though rare performed promises so made.
13
Which seeing this: thus to himselfe complaines:
O why do you fond false deceiued so
Run headlong to that change that nothing gaines
But gaine of sorrow, onlie change of wo?
Which is all one if he be like that raignes:
Why will you buy with bloud what you forgoo
Tis nought but shewes that ignorance esteemes,
The thing possest is not the thing it seemes.
14
And when the sinnes of
Bullingbrooke shall be
As great as mine, and you vnanswered
In these your hopes; then may you wish for me
Your lawfull Sour'aigne from whose faith you fled,
And grieued in your soules the error see
That shining promises had shadowed:
As th humorous sicke remouing finde no ease,
When changed Chambers change not the disease.
15
Then shall you finde this name of liberty
(The watchword of rebellion euer vsd
The idle eccho of vncertainty,
That euermore the simple hath abusd)
But new-turnd seruitude and mise rie,
And euen the same and worse before refusd,
Th' aspirer once attaind vnto the top
Cuts off those meanes by which himselfe got vp.
16
And with a harder hand and streighter raine
Doth curbe that loosenes he did finde before,
Doubting th'occasion like might serue againe,
His owne example makes him feare the more:
Then ô iniurious land what dost thou gaine
To aggrauate thine owne affictions store
Since thou must needs obay to gouernement,
And no rule, euer yet could all content
17
O if my youth hath offred vp to lust
Licentious fruits of indiscreet desires
When idle heate of vainer yeares did thrust
That fury on: yet now when it retires
To calmer state: ô why should you distrust
To reape that good whereto mine age aspires?
The youth of Princes haue no bounds for sinne
Vnlesse themselues do make them bounds within.
18
Who sees not that sees ought (wo worth the while)
The easie way that greatnesse hath to fall
Enuirond with deceit, hem'd in with guile,
Sooth'd vp in flattery, fawned on of all:
Within his owne liuing, as in exile,
Heares but with others eares or not at all:
Euen made a pray onely vnto a few,
Who locke vp grace that would to others shew.
19
And who as let in lease doe farme the crowne,
And ioy the vse of
Maiestie and might,
Whilst we hold but the shadow of our owne,
Pleasd but with shewes, and dalied with delight:
They as huge vnproportion'd mountaines growne.
Betweene our land and vs, shadowing our light,
Bereaue the rest of ioy and vs of loue,
And keepe downe all to keepe themselues aboue.
20
Which woūds with griefe poore vnrespected zeale
When grace holdes no proportion in the partes;
When distribution in the common weale
Of charge and honour due to good desarts
Is stopt, when others greedy hands must deale
The benefit that
Maiestic imparts:
What good we ment comes gleaned home but light
Whilst we are robd of praise, they of their right.
21
O hence I see, and to my griefe I see,
Th' vnreconcileable disunion
Is growne betweene m' aggraued realme and mee,
And by their fault, whose faith I trusted on:
My easie nature tractable and free,
Soone drawne to what my councel would haue done
Is thus betraid by them and my neglect,
Easiest deceiud where least I did suspect.
22
Thus he complaind, when lo from
Lancaster
(The new intituled
Duke) with order sent
Ariu'd
Northumberland, as to conferre
And make relation of the
Dukes intent:
And offred there, if that he would referre
The controuersie vnto
Parlament,
And punish those that had abusd the state
As causers of this vniuersall hate,
23
And also see that iustice might be had
On those the Duke of Glosters death procur'd,
And such remoud from councell as were bad,
His cosin
Henrie would he there assur'd
On humble knees before his grace be glad
To aske him pardon to be well secur'd,
And haue his right and grace restor'd againe,
The which was all he laboured t' obtaine.
24
And therefore he a Parley doth exhort,
Perswades him leaue that vnbeseeming place
And with a Princely hardines resort
Vnto his people, that attend his grace:
They ment the publique good and not his hurt,
And would most ioifull be to see his face:
He Iaies his soule to pledge, and takes his oth
The ost of Christ an ostage for his troth.
25
This profer with such protestations made
Vnto a king that so nere daunger stood,
Was a sufficient motiue to perswade
When no way els could shew a face of good:
Th vnhonourable meanes of safety bade
Danger accept what
Maiestie withstood:
When better choices are not to be had
We needs must take the seeming best of bad.
26
Yet stands h' in doubt a while what way to take,
And doth confer with that small staying troope
That fortune left; which neuer would forsake
Their poore distressed Lord, nor euer stoope
To any hopes the stronger part could make:
Good
Carlile, Ferby and sir
Stephen Scroope
The Bishop of Carlile. Montague Earle of Salisbury.
With that most worthy
Montague were al,
That were content with
Maiestie to fall.
27
O
Time, commit not sacrilegious theft
Vppon the holy faith of these good men:
Let not succeeding ages be bereft
Of such examples worthy of our Pen:
Nor thou magnanim'ous
Leigh shalt not be left
In darkenes for thy constant honour then,
That then to saue thy faith wouldst loose thy head,
That reuerent head that all men pittied.
28
Nor conscience would that I should iniury
O Ienico thy memory so cleere,
Ienico d' Artois a Gascoyn.
For being not ours, though wish that
Gascony
Claimd not for hers the faith we hold so deere;
So
England should haue this small companie
Wholy her owne, and shee no partner heere;
But lets deuide this good betwixt vs both,
Take shee thy birth and we will haue thy troth.
29
Graue
Montague, whom long experience taught
In either fortune; this aduisd his king:
Deare Sou'raigne know, the matter that is sought
Is onely now your Maiestie to bring
From out of this poore safety you haue got
Into their hands, that else hold euery thing:
Nothing but onely you they want of all,
And wanting you, they nothing theirs can call.
30
Here haue you craggy rockes to take your part
That neuer will betray their faith to you;
These trustie mountaines here will neuer start
But stand t' obraid their shame that are vntrue,
Here maie you fence your safetie with small art
Against the pride of that confused Crew:
If men will not, these very cliffes will fight
And be sufficient to defend your right.
31
Then keepe 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 rashnes chose:
For that same mercenarie faith they sold
With least occasions discontented growes,
And insolent those voluntarie bands,
Presuming how by them he chieflie stands.
32
And how can he those mightie troupes sustaine
Long time where now he is, or any where?
Besides what discipline can he retaine
Where as he dares not keepe them vnder feare,
For feare to haue them to reuolt againe?
So that it selfe when greatnes cannot beare
With her owne waight must needes confusdly fall
Without the helpe of other force at all.
33
And hither to approach h' will neuer dare
Where deserts, rockes, and hils no succours giue,
Where desolation and no comforts are,
Where few can do no good, manie not liue:
Besides we haue the
Ocean to prepare
Some other place if this should not relieue;
So shall you tire his force, consume his strength
And weary all his followers out at length.
34
Doe but referre to time and to small time,
And infinite occasions you shall find,
To quaile the reble euen in the prime
Of all his hopes beyond all thought of mind,
For manie with the curse what they design'd;
And bad sucesse obraiding their ill fact
Drawes them that others draw from such an act.
35
For if the least imagind ouerture
But of conceiud reuolt men once espie,
Straight shrinke the weake, the great wil not indure,
Th' impatient run, the discontented flie,
The friend his friends example doth procure,
And altogither haste them presently
Some to their home, some hide, others that stay
To reconcile themselues, the rest betray.
36
What hope haue you that euer
Bullingbrooke
Will liue a subiect that hath tride his fate?
Or what good reconcilement can you looke
Where he must alwaies feare, and you must hate?
And neuer thinke that he this quarrell tooke
To reobtaine thereby his priuate state;
Twas greater hopes that hereto did him call
And he will thrust for all, or else loose all.
37
Nor trust this suttle
Agent nor his oth,
You know his faith, you tride it before hand,
His fault is death and now to loose his troth,
To saue his life he will not greatly stand:
Nor trust your kinsmans proffer, since you both
Shew bloud in Princes is no stedfast band:
What though he hath no title, he hath might
That makes a title where there is no right?
38
Thus he: when that good Bishop thus replies
The Bishop of Castile
Out of a mind that quiet did affect,
My Lord, I must confesse as your case lies,
You haue great cause your subiects to suspect
And counterplot against their subtelties,
You all good care and honestie neglect
And feare the worst what insolence maie doe,
Or armed fury maie incense them to.
39
But yet my Lord, feare maie as well transport
Your care beyond the truth of what is ment,
As other wife neglect maie fall too short
In not examining of their intent:
But let vs weigh the thing which they exhort,
Tis Peace, submission and a parlament,
Which how expedient tis for either part
Twere good we iudged with an vnpartiall hart.
40
And first for you my Lord, in griefe we see
The miserable case wherein you stand
Void here of succour, helpe or maiestie,
On this poore promontory of your land,
And where how long a time your grace may be,
Expecting what may fall into your hand
We know not: sinceth' euent of things do lie
Clos'd vp in darknes far from mortall eie.
41
And how vnsit it were you should protract,
Long time in this so dangerous disgrace,
As though that you good spirit and courage lackt
To issue out of this opprobrious place:
When euen the face of kings do oft exact
Feare and remorse in faulty subiects base,
And longer stay a great presumption drawes
That you were guilty or did doubt your cause.
42
What subiects euer so inragd would dare
To violate a Prince, t' offend the bloud
Of that renowmed race, by which they are
Exalted to the glorie of this good?
What if some things by chance misguided were,
Which they haue now rebelliously withstood?
They neuer will proceed with that despight
To wracke the state, and to confound the right.
43
Nor doe I thinke that
Bulling brooke can do
So blind ambitious to affect the crowne,
Hauing himselfe no title, and doth see
Others, if you should faile, must keepe him downe:
Besides the Realme, though mad, will neuer gree
To haue a right succession ouerthrowne,
To raise confusion vpon them and theirs
By preiudicing true and lawfull beires.
44
And now it may be fearing the successe
Of his attempts, or with remorse of mind,
Or else distrusting secret practises,
He would be glad his quarrell were resignd,
So that there were some orderly redresse
In those disorders which the Realme did find:
And this I thinke he now fees were his best
Since farther actions farther but vnrest.
45
And for the impossibility of peace
And reconcilement which my Lords obiects:
I thinke when doying iniury shall cease
(The cause pretended) then surcease th' effects:
Time and some other Actions may increase
As may diuert the thought of these respects;
Others law of forgetting iniuries
Lex Amnesti
[...]s.
Maie serue our turne in like calamities.
46
And for his oath my Lord I thinke in conscience;
True honour would not so be found vntrue,
Nor spot his bloud with such a fowle offence
Against his soule, against his God and you:
Our Lord for bid that euer with th'expence
Of heauen and heauenly ioies that shall insue,
Mortality should buy this litle breath
T'indure the horror of eternall death.
47
And therefore as I thinke you safely maie
Accept this proffer, that determine shall
All doubtfull courses by a quiet waie;
Needfull for you, fit for them, good for all:
And here my sou'raigne to make longer stay
T'attend for what you are vnsure will fall
May slippe th'occasion and incense their will,
For feare thats wiser then the truth doth ill.
48
Thus he perswades euen of a zealous mind,
Supposing men had spoken as they ment,
And vnto this the king likewise inclinde
As wholy vnto peace and quiet bent,
And yeelds himselfe to th'earle, goes, leaues behind
Safety, Scepter, honor, gouernment:
For gone, all's gone, he is no more his owne;
And they rid quite offeare, he of the crowne.
49
A place there is where proudly raisd there stands
A huge aspiring rocke neighbou'ring the skies
Whose surly brow imperiously commands
The sea his bounds that at his proud feet lies:
And spurnes the waues that in rebellious bands
Assault his Empire and against him rise:
Vnder whose craggy gouernment there was
A niggard narrow way for men to passe.
50
And here in hidden cliffes concealed lay
A troope of armed men to intercept
The vnsuspecting king, that had no way
To free his foote that into danger stept:
The dreadfull
Ocean on th' one side lay,
The hardincroching mountaine th'other kept,
Before him he beheld his hatefull foes;
Behind, him traiterous enemies inclose.
51
Enuiron'd thus the
Earle begins to cheere
His all-amased Lord by him betraide:
Bids him take courage ther's no cause offeare,
These troopes but there to guard him safe were laid:
To whom the king: what needs so many here?
This is against your oth my Lord he said:
But now he fees in what distresse hee stood,
To striue was vaine, t' intreat would do no good.
52
And therefore on with carefull hart he goes
Complaines (but to himself) sighes, grieues & freats,
At
Rutland dines, though feedes but on his woes,
The griefe of mind hindred the minde of meats:
For sorrow, shame and feare, skorne of his foes,
The thought of what hee was and what now threats,
Then what he should and now what he hath done,
Musters confused passions all in one.
53
To
Flint from thence vnto a restles bed
That miserable night he comes conuayd,
Poorely prouided, poorely followed,
Vncourted, vnrespected, vnobayd:
Where if vncertaine sleepe but hoouered
Ouer the drooping cares that heauy weigh'd,
Millions of figures fantasie presents
Vnto that sorrow, wakened griefe augments.
54
His new misfortune makes deluding sleepe
Say twas not so, false dreames the truth deny:
Where with he starts: feeles waking cares do creepe
Vpon his soule, and giues his dreame the lie:
Then sleepes againe, and then againe as deepe
Deceits of darknes mocke his misery:
So hard belieu'd was sorrow in her youth
That he thinks truth was dreames, & dreames were truth.
55
The morning light presents vnto his view
Walking vpon a turret of the place,
The truth of what he fees is prou'd too true;
A hundred thousand men before his face
Carne marching on the shore which thither drew:
And more to aggrauate his fowle disgrace,
Those he had wrongd or done to them dispight
As if they him obrayd, came first in sight.
56
There might he see that false for sworne vile crue,
Those shameles agents of vnlawfull lust,
His
Pandars, Parasites, people vntrue
To God and man, vnworthy any trust:
Pressing vnto that fortune that was nue
And with vnblushing faces formost thrust
As those that liue in sun-shine of delights,
And flie the winter when affliction lights.
57
There he beheld how humbly diligent
New adulation was to be at hand,
How ready
Falshood stept, how nimbly went
Basepick thanke
Flattery and preuents command:
He saw the great obay, the graue consent,
And all with this new-raisd
Aspirer stand,
Which when he saw and in his sorrow waid
Thus out of griefe vnto himselfe he said
58
O faithlesse
Cosen, here behold I stand
Spectator of that act my selfe haue plaid,
That act of rule which now vpon thy hand
This wauering mutability hath laid:
But
Cosen, know the faith of this false land
Stands sworne to me, that faith they haue betraid
Is mine, tis mine the rule, thou dost me wrong
T' vsurpe the gouernment I held so long.
59
And when thou hast but tride what I haue found,
Thou maist repent t'haue bought cōmand so deare,
When thou shalt find on what vnquiet ground
Greatnes doth stand, that stands so high in feare:
Where infinite occasions do confound
The peace of minde, the good thou look'st for here:
O fatall is th' ascent vnto a crowne!
From whence men come not downe, but must tall downe.
60
O you that cherish fat iniquity,
Inriching sinne, with store, and vice with gaine
By my disgrace, see what you get thereby
To raise the bad, to make the good complaine:
These vipers spoile the wombe wherein they lie,
And haue but impudence a grace to gaine,
But bodies and bold browes no mindes within
But minde of ill, that knowes but how to sin.
61
And for the good which now do take thy part
Thou maiste reioyce, for th'others I am glad
To thinke they may in time likewise subuart
The expectation which of thee men had:
When thou shalt find how difficult an art
It is to rule and please the good and bad:
And seele the grieuance of this fatall sort,
Which still are borne for court are made in court.
62
More griefe had said: when lo the Duke he saw
Entring the
Castle come to parle there,
Which makes him presently from thence withdraw
Into a fitter place some other where:
His fortune now inforst an yeelding awe
To meete him, who before in humble feare
Would haue beene glad t' haue staid, and to prepare
The grace of audience, with attendant care.
63
The
Duke when come in presence of his king,
Whether the sight of maiestie did breed
Remorse of wrong which reuerence did bring;
Or whether but to formalize his deed,
He kneeles him downe euen at his entering,
Rose, kneeles againe (for craft will still exceed)
When as the king approcht, put off his hood
And welcomd him, though wishd him little good.
64
To whom the
Duke thus said: my Lord I know
That both vnlookt for, and vnsent vnto
I haue presumed to come hither now;
But this your wrong and rigor draue me to,
And being come I purpose now to shew
You better how to rule, and what to doe:
You haue had time too much to worke our ill,
But now redresse is planted in our will.
65
As you shall please deare cosin said the king,
You haue me in your powre, I am content
And I am pleasd, if my disgrace may bring
Good to my countrey which I euer ment:
But yet God grant your course held in this thing
Cause not succeeding ages to repent.
And so they left: the
Duke had hast to go,
It was no place to end the matter so.
66
Straight towards London in this heate of pride
The
Duke sets forward as they had decreed,
With whom the
Captiue King constraind must ride,
Most meanely mounted on a simple steed:
Degraded of all grace and case beside,
Thereby neglect of all respect to breed;
For th' ouer-spreading pompe of prouder might
Must darken weaknes and debase his sight.
67
Approaching nere the Citty he was met
With all the sumptuous shewes ioy could deuise,
Where new-desire to please did not forget
To passe the vsuall pompe of former guise;
Striuing applause as out of prison let,
Runnes on beyond all boundes to nouelties:
And voice and hands and knees and all do now
A straung deformed forme of welcome show.
68
And manifold confusion running greeces
Shootes, cries, claps hands, thrusts, striues and presses nero:
Houses impou'risht were t'inrich the streetes,
And streetes left naked that vnhappy were
Plac'd from the sight where ioy with wonder meets,
Where all of all degrees striue to appeare:
Where diuers-speaking zeale, one murmure findes
In vndistinguisht voice to tell their mindes.
69
He that in glorie of his fortune fate,
Admiring what he thought could neuer be,
Did feele his bloud within salute his state,
And lift vp his reiouicing soule to see
So manie hands and harts congratulate
Th'aduancement of his long-desir'd degree:
When prodigall of thankes in passing by
He resalutes them all with cheerefull eie.
70
Behind him all aloofe came pensiue on
The vnregarded king, that drooping went
Alone, and but for spight scarce lookt vpon,
Iudge if he did more enuy or lament:
O what a wondrous worke this daie is done,
Which th'image of both fortunes doth present,
In th' one to shew the best of glories face,
In th' other worse then worst of all disgrace.
71
Now I
Sabell the young afficted Queene,
Whose yeares had neuer shew'd her but delights,
Nor louely eies before had euer seene
Other then smiling ioies and ioyfull sights:
Borne great, matcht great, liu'd great and euer beene
Partaker of the worlds best benefits,
Had plac'd her selfe, hearing her Lord should passe
That way where shee vnseene in secret was.
72
Sicke of delay and longing to behold
Her long mist loue in fearfull ieoperdies,
To whom although it had in fort beene told
Of their proceeding, and of his surprize,
Yet thinking they would neuer be so bold
To lead their Lord in any shamefull wise,
But rather would conduct him as their king,
As seeking but the States reordering.
73
And forth shee looks: and notes the form oft traine
And grieues to view some there she wisht not there,
Seeing the chiefe not come, staies, lookes againe,
And yet she sees not him that should appeare:
Then backe she stands, and then desires was saine
Againe to looke to see if he were nere,
At length a glittring troupe farre off shee spies,
Perceiues the thronge and heares the shoots & cries.
74
Lo yonder now at length he comes (saith shee)
Looke my good women where he is in sight:
Do you not see him? yonder that is hee
Mounted on that white courser all in white,
There where the thronging troupes of people bee,
I know him by his seate, he sits s' vpright:
Lo now he bows: deare Lord with what sweet grace:
How long haue I longd to behold that face?
75
O what delight my hart takes by mine eie?
I doubt me when he comes but something neare
I shall set wide the window: what care I
Who doth see me, so him I may see cleare?
Thus doth false ioy delude her wrongfully
Sweet lady in the thing she held so deare;
For nearer come, shee findes shee had mistooke,
And him shee markt was
Henrie Bullingbrooke.
76
Then
Enuie takes the place in her sweet eies
Where sorrow had prepard herselfe a feat,
And words of wrath from whēce complaints should rise,
Proceed from egar lookes, and browes that threat:
Traytor faith shee: i'st thou that in this wise
To braue thy Lord and king art made so great?
And haue mine eies done vnto me this wrong
To look on thee? for this staid I so long?
77
O haue they grac'd a periur'd rebell so?
Well for their error I will weepe them out,
And hate the tongue defilde that praisde my so,
And loath the minde that gaue me not to doubt:
O haue I added shame vnto my woe?
Ile looke no more;
Ladies looke you about,
And tell me if my Lord bee in this traine,
Least my betraying eies should erre againe.
78
And in this passion turnes her selfe away:
The rest looke all, and carefull note each wight;
Whilst she impatient of the least delay.
Demaunds againe, and what not yet in fight?
Where is my Lord? what gone some other way?
I muse at this, O God graunt all go right.
Then to the window goes againe at last
And sees the chiefest traine of all was past.
79
And sees not him her soule desir'd to see,
And yet hope spent makes her not leaue to looke,
At last her loue-quicke eies which ready be,
Fastens on one whom though shee neuer tooke
Could be her Lord: yet that sad cheere which he
Then shew'd, his habit and his wofull looke,
The grace he doth in base attire retaine,
Causd her she could not from his sight refraine.
80
What might be she said that thus alone
Rides pensiue in this vniuersall ioy:
Some I perceiue as well as we doe mone,
All are not pleasd with euery thing this day,
It maie be he laments the wronge is done
Vnto my Lord, and grieues as well he may,
Then he is some of ours, and we of right
Must pitty him, that pitties our sad plight.
81
But stay, its not my Lord himselfe I see?
In truth if twere not for his base araie,
I verily should thinke that it were he;
And yet his basenes doth a grace bewray:
Yet God forbid, let me deceiued be;
O be it not my Lord although it may:
And let desire make vowes against desire,
And let my sight approue my sight a liar.
82
Let me not see him, but himselfe, a king;
For so he left me, so he did remoue:
This is not he, this feeles some other thing,
A passion of dislike or els of loue:
O yes tis he, that princely face doth bring
The euidence of maiestie to proue:
That face I haue conferr'd which now I see
With that within my hart, and they agree.
83
Thus as shee stoode assur'd and yet in doubt,
Wishing to see, what seene she grieud to see,
Hauing beliefe, yet saine would be without;
Knowing, yet striuing not to know twas he:
Her hart relenting, yet her hart so stout
As would not yeeld to thinke what was, could be:
Till quite condemnd by open proofe of sight
Shee must confesse or else denie the light.
84
For whether loue in him did sympathize
Or chance so wrought to manifest her doubt,
Euen iust before, where she thus secret prize,
He staies and with cleare face lookes all about:
When she: tis ô too true, I know his eies
Alas it is my owne deare Lord, cries out:
And with that crie sinkes downe vpon the flore,
Abundant griefe lackt words to vtter more.
85
Sorrow keepes full possession in her soule,
Lockes him within, laies vp the key of breath,
Raignes all alone a
Lord without controule
So long till greater horror threatneth:
And euen in daunger brought, to loose the whole
His forst come forth or else to stay with death,
Opens a sigh and lets in sence againe,
And sence at legth giues words leaue to complaine.
86
Then like a torrent had beene stopt before,
Teares, sighes, and words, doubled togither flow,
Confusdly striuing whether should do more
The true intelligence of griefe to show:
Sighes hindred words, words perisht in their store,
Both intermixt in one together grow:
One would do all, the other more then's part
Being both sent equall agents from the hart.
87
At length when past the first of sorrowes worst,
When calm'd confusion better forme affords
Her hart commands her words should past outfirst,
And then her sighes should interpoint her words;
The whiles her eies out into teares should burst,
This order with her sorrow she accords,
Which orderles all forme of order brake,
So then began her words and thus she spake.
88
O dost thou thus returne againe to mee?
Are these the triumphs for thy victories?
Is this the glory thou dost bring with thee
From that vnhappy Irish enterprise?
O haue I made so many vowes to see
Thy safe returne, and see thee in this wise?
Is this the lookt for comfort thou dost bring,
To come a captiue that wentst out a king?
89
And yet deare Lord though thy vngratefull land
Hath left thee thus, yet I will take thy part,
I do remaine the same vnder thy hand,
Thou still dost rule the kingdome of my hart;
If all be lost, that gouernment doth stand
And that shall neuer from thy rule depart:
And so thou be, I care not how thou be,
Let greatnes goe, so it goe without thee.
90
And welcome come, how so vnfortunate,
I will applaud what others do dispise,
I loue thee for thy selfe not for thy state,
More then thy selfe is what without thee, lies:
Let that more go, if it be in thy fate,
And hauing but thy selfe it will sussize:
I married was not to thy crowne but thee,
And thou without a crowne all one to mee.
91
But what doe I heere lurking idlie mone
And waile a part, and in a single part
Make seuerall griefe which should be both in one,
The touch being equall of each others hart?
Ah no sweete Lord thou must not mone alone,
For without me thou art not all thou art,
Nor my teares without thine are fullie teares,
For thus vnioyn'd, sorrow but halfe appeares.
92
Ioine then our plaints & make our griefe ful griefe,
Our state being one, ô lets not part our care,
Sorrow hath only this poore bare reliefe,
To be bemon'd of such as wofull are:
O should I rob thy griefe and be the thiefe
To steale a priuate part, and seuerall share,
Defrauding sorrow of her perfect due?
No no my Lord I come to helpe thee rue.
93
Then forth shee goes a close concealed way
As grieuing to be seene not as shee was;
Laborst' attaine his presence all shee maie,
Which with most hard a doe was brought to passe:
For that night vnderstanding where he laie
With earncst treating she procur'd her passe
To come to him. Rigor could not deny
Those teares, so poore a suite or put her by.
94
Entring the chamber where he was alone
As one whose former fortune was his shame,
Loathing th' obraiding eie of anie one
That knew him once and knowes him not the same:
When hauing giuen expresse commaund that none
Should presse to him, yet hearing some that came
Turnes angerly about his grieued eies
When lo his sweet afflicted Queene he spies.
95
Straight cleeres his brow & with a borrowed smile
What my dere Queene, ô welcome deare he faies?
And striuing his owne passion to beguile
And hide the sorrow which his eie betraies,
Could speake no more but wrings her hands the while,
And then (sweetlady) and againe he staies:
Th' excesse of ioy and sorrow both affords
Affliction none, or but poore niggard words.
96
Shee that was come with a resolued hart
And with a mouth full stoor'd, with words wel chose,
Thinking this comfort will I first impart
Vnto my Lord, and thus my speech dispose:
Then thus ile say, thus looke, and with this art
Hide mine owne sorrow to relieue his woes,
When being come all this prou'd nought but winde,
Teares, lookes, and sighes doe only tell her minde.
97
Thus both stood silent and confused so,
Their eies relating how their harts did morne
Both bigge with sorrow, and both great with woe
In labour with what was not to be borne:
This mighty burthen where withall they goe
Dies vndeliuered, perishes vnborne;
Sorrow makes silence her best oratore
Where words may make it lesse not shew it more.
98
But he whom longer time had learn'd the art
T' indure afflicton as a vsuall touch:
Straines forth his wordes, and throwes dismay apart
To raise vp her, whose passions now were such
As quite opprest her ouerchardged hart,
Too small a vessell to containe so much,
And cheeres and mones, and fained hopes doth frame
As if himselfe belieu'd, or hop'd the same.
99
And now the while these Princes sorrowed,
Forward ambition come so nere her ende,
Sleepes not nor slippes th' occasion offered
T' accomplish what it did before intende:
A parlament is foorthwith summoned
In
Richards name, whereby they might pretend
A forme to grace disorder and a shew
Of holie right, the right to ouerthrow.
100
Ah could not
Maiestie bee ruined
But with the fearefull powre of her owne name?
And must abusd obedience thus be led
With powerfull titles to consent to shame?
Could not confusion be established
But forme and order must confirme the same?
Must they who his authority did hate,
Yet vse his stile to take away his state?
101
Order, ô how predominant art thou!
That if but only thou pretended art,
How soone deceiu'd mortality doth bow
To follow thine as still the better part?
Tis thought that reuerent forme will not allow
Iniquity: or sacred right peruart:
Within our soules since ô thou dwell'st so strong
How ill do they that vse thee to do wrong?
102
So ill did they that in this formall 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 vrg'd in publique are made worse,
The shew of iustice aggrauates despight:
The multitude that looke not to the cause
Rest satisfied, so it be done by lawes.
103
And now doth enuie articles obiect
Of rigor, malice, priuate fauourings,
Exaction, riot, falshood and neglect;
Crimes done, but not to b' answered by kings:
Which subiectes maie complaine but not correct:
And all these faults which
Lancaster now brings
Against a king, must be his owne when he
By vrging others sinnes a king shall be.
104
For all that was most odious was deuisd
And publisht in these articles abrode,
All th' errors of his youth were here comprisd
Calamitie with obloquie to lode:
And more to make him publikely dispisd
Libels, inuectiues, rayling rimes were sow'd
Among the vulgar, to prepare his fall
With more applause and good consent of all.
105
Looke how the day-hater
Mineruas bird
Whil'st priuiledg'd with darknes and the night,
Doth liue securet' himselfe of others feard,
But if by chance discouered in the light
O how each little soule with enuy stirr'd
Cals him to iustice, vrges him with spight;
Summons the feathered flockes of all the wood
To come to scorne the tyrant of their blood.
106
So fares this king layd open to disgrace
Whilst euery mouth full of reproch inuaies,
And euery base detractor in this case
Vppon th' aduantage of misfortune plaies:
Downe-falling greatnes vrged on a pace
Was followed hard by all disgracefull waies,
Now in the point t' accelerate an end
Whilst misery had no meanes to defend.
107
Vpon these articles in parlament
So haynous made, inforst, and vrgd so hard,
He was a diugd vnfit for gouernment
And of all regall powre and rule debarr'd:
For who durst contradict the
Dukes intent,
Or if they durst should patiently be heard?
Desire of change, old wrongs, new hopes, fresh feare
Being far the maior part, the cause must beare.
108
Yet must we thinke that some which saw the course
The better few, whom passion made not blind
Stood carefull lookers on with sad commorse,
Amazd to see what headlong rage dessignd:
And in a more considerate discourse
Of tragicall euents there of deuind,
And did or might their grieued harts to ease
Vtter their sorrowes in like termes as these.
109
What dissolute proceedings haue we here?
What strange presumptuous disobedience?
What vnheard sury void of awe or feare,
With monstrous vnexampled insolence?
Durst subiects euer here or any where
Thus impiously presume so fowle offence?
To violate the power commanding all
And into iudgement maiestie to call.
110
O same conceale and doe not carry word
To after-comming ages of our shame,
Blot out of bookes and rase out of Record
All monuments memorials of the same:
Forget to tell how we did lift our sword,
And enuious idle accusations frame
Against our lawfull fou'raigne, when we ought
His end and our release haue staid not sought.
111
Since better yeares might worke a better care,
And time might well haue cur'd what was amisse;
Since all these faults fatall to greatnes are,
And worse desertes haue not beene punisht thus,
But ô in this the heauens we feare prepare
Confusion for our sinnes as well as his,
And his calamity beginneth our:
For he his owne, and we abusd his powre.
112
Thus grieued they: when to the king were sent
Certaine that might perswade and vrge him on
To leaue his crowne, and make with free consent
A voluntaric resignation,
Seeing he could no other way preuent
The daunger of his owne confusion,
For not to yeeld to what feare would constraine,
Would barre the hope of life that did remaine.
113
And yet this scarce could worke him to consent
To yeeld vp that so soone men hold so deare:
Why let him take (said he) the gouernment,
And let me yet the name, the title beare:
Leaue me that shew and I will be content,
And let them rule and gouerne without feare:
O can they not my shadowe now indure
When they of all the rest do stand secure?
114
Let me hold that, I aske no other good:
Nay that I will hold, Henrie doe thy worst,
For ere I yeeld my crowne ile loose my bloud,
That bloud that shall make thee and thine accurst:
Thus resolute a while he firmely stood,
Till loue of life and feare of being forst
Vanquisht th' innated valour of his minde;
And hope and friends, so wrought that he resignd.
115
Then to the towre (where he remained) went
The
Duke with all the
Peeres attended on:
To take his offer with his free consent,
And testifie his resignation:
And there of to informe the parlament
That all things might more formally be done:
And men might rest more satisfide thereby
As not done of constraint but wilsingly.
116
And forth h' is brought vnto th'accomplishmēt
Deckt with the crowne in princely robes that day,
Like as the dead in other landes are sent
Vnto their graues in all their best aray:
And euen like good did him this ornament,
For what he brought he must not beare away,
But buries there his glory and his name
Intombd for euermore in others blame.
117
And there vnto th' assembly of these states
His sorrow for their long indured wrong
Through his abusd authority relates,
Excuses with confessions mixt among:
And glad he faies to finish all debates
He was to leaue the rule they sought for long,
Protesting if it might be for their good
He would as gladly sacrifice his bloud.
118
There he his subiects all in generall
Assoyles and quites of oth and fealty,
Renounces interest, title, right and all
That appertaind to kingly dignity;
Subscribes thereto and doth to witnes call
Both heauen and earth, and God and saints on hie,
And all this did he but t' haue leaue to liue
The which was all he crau'd that they would giue.
119
Tis said with his owne hands he gaue the crowne
To
Lancaster, and wisht to God he might
Haue better ioy thereof then he had knowne,
And that his powre might make it his by right:
And furthermore he crau'd of all his owne
But life to liue apart a priuate wight;
The vanity of greatnes he had tride
And how vnsurely standes the foote of pride.
120
This brought to passe the lords returne with speed
T' acquaint the Parlament with what is done,
Where they at large publisht the kings owne deed
And manner of his resignation:
When
Canterbury vrgd them to proceed
Forthwith vnto a new election,
Arundell Bishop of Canterbury
And
Henry make his claime both by discent
And resignation to the gouernement.
121
Who there with full and generall applause
Is straight proclaimd as king and after crownd,
The other cleane reiected by the lawes,
As one the Realme had most vnworthy found.
And yet ô
Lancaster I would thy cause
Had had as lawfull and as sure a ground
As had thy vertues, and thy glorious worth
For
Empire borne, for
Gouernment brought forth
122
Then had not ô that sad succeeding age
Her fieldes engrain'd with bloud, her riuers dide
With purple streaming wounds of her owne rage,
Nor seene her Princes slaine, her Peeres distroide:
Then hadst not thou deare country come to wage
Warre with thy selfe, nor those afflictions tride
Of all-consuming discord here so long,
Too mighty now against thy selfe too strong.
123
So had the bloud of thirteene battels fought
About this quarrell, fatall to our land,
Haue beene reseru'd with glory to haue brought
Nations and kingdomes vnder our commaund;
So should all that thy sonne and thou had got,
With glorious praise haue still beene in our hand,
And that great worthy last of all thy name
Had ioind the westerne
Empire to the same.
124
So should his great imperiall daughter now
Th' admired glory of the earth, hereby
Haue had all this nere bordring world to bow
To her immortalized maiestie:
Then proud
Iberus Lord not seeking how
T'attaine a false-conceiued Monarchie,
Had kept his barraine boundes and not haue stood
In vaine attemptst' inrich the seas with bloud.
125
Nor interposd his greedy medling hand
In other mens affaires t' aduance his owne,
Nor tyrannisd ouer so manie landes
From late obscurity so mighty growne:
But we with our vndaunted conquering bandes
Had lent our Ensignes vnto landes vnknowne,
And now with more audacious force began
To march against th' earths-terror
Ottoman.
126
Where thou
(O worthy Essex) whose deare blood
Reseru'd from these sad times to honour ours,
Shouldst haue conducted Armies and now stood
Against the strength of all the
Easterne Powers:
There should thy valiant hand perform'd that good
Against the barbarisme that all deuoures,
That all the states of the redeemed
Earth
Might thee admire, and glorise thy birth.
127
Thence might thy valor haue brought in despight
Eternall
Tropheis to
Elizas name,
And laid downe at her sacred feete the right
Of all thy deedes and glory of the same.
All that which by her powre, and by thy might
Thou hadst attaind to her immortall fame
Had made thee wondred here, admir'd a farre
The
Mercury of peace, the
Mars of warre.
128
And thou my Lord the glorie of my muse
Pure-spirited
Mounti
[...], th' ornament of men,
Hadst had a large and mighty field to vse
Thy holie giftes and learned counsels then:
Whole landes and Prouinces should not excuse
Thy trusty faith, nor yet sufficient beene
For those great vertues to haue ordered
And in a calme obedience gouerned.
129
Nor had I then at solitary brooke
Sate framing bloudy accents of these times,
Nor told of woundes that grieued eies might looke
Vpon the horror of their fathers crimes,
But rather a more glorious subiect tooke
To register in euerlasting rimes
The sacred glories of ELIZABETH,
T' haue kept the wonder of her worth from death.
136
And like wise builded for your great designes
O you two worthies bewties of our state,
Immortall tombes of vnconsuming lines
To keepe your holic deedes inuiolate:
You in whose actions yet the image shines
Of ancient honor neere worne out of date,
You that haue vertue into fashion brought
In these neglected times respected nought.
131
But whither am I carried with the thought
Of what might haue beene, had not this beene so?
O sacred
Fury how was I thus brought
To speake of glory that must tell of wo?
These acted mischiefes cannot be vnwrought
Though men be pleasd to wish it were not so.
And therefore leaue sad
Muse th' imagin'd good,
For we must now returne againe to bloud.
THE ARGVMENT OF THE THIRD BOOKE.
Henry the fourth the Crowne established,
The Lords that did to
Glosters death consent,
Degraded doe rebell, are vanquished:
King
Richard vnto
Promfret Castle sent
Is murthered there. The
Percies making head
Against the king, receiue the punishment:
And in the end a tedious troublous raigne
A grieuous death concludes with care, and paine.
I
Tow risen is that head, by which did spring
The birth of two strong heads, two crownes, two rights;
That monstrous shape that afterward did bring
Deform'd confusion to distracted wights:
Now is attain'd that dearely purchased thing
What fild the world with lamentable sights:
And now attain'd, all care is how to frame
Meanes to establish, and to hold the same.
2
Striuing at first to build a strong conceit
Of his weake cause, in apt-abused mindes,
He deckes his deed with colours of deceit
And ornaments of right, which now he findes:
Succession, conquest, and election straight
Suggested are, and prou'd in all three kindes:
More then inough he findes, that findes his might
Hath force' to make all that he will haue, right.
3
All these he hath when one good would suffize
The worlds applause, and liking to procure,
But who his owne cause makes doth still deuise
To make too much to haue it more then sure:
Feare casts too deepe, and euer is too wise,
The doubtfull can no vsuall plots indure:
These selfe-accusing titles all he had
Seeking to make one good of maine bad.
4
Like foolish he that feares, and saine would stop
An inundation working on apace,
Runs to the breach, heapes mighty matter vp,
Throwes indigested burthens on the place,
Loades with huge waights, the outside and the top,
But leaues the inner parts in feeble case;
Thinking for that the outward forme seemes strong
Tis sure inough, and may continue long.
5
But when the vnder working waues come on
Searching the secrets of vnsenced waies,
The full maine
Ocean following hard vpon
Beares downe that idle frame, skorning such staies;
Prostrates that frustrate paines as if not done,
And proudly on his silly labors plaies,
Whilst he perceiues his error, and doth finde
His ill proceeding contrary to kind.
6
So fares it with our indirect diffeignes
And wrong-contriued labors at the last,
Whilst working time or Iustice vndermines
The feeble ground-worke craft thought laid so fast:
Then when out-breaking vengeance vncombines
The ill-ioynd plots so fairely ouercast,
Turnes vp those strong pretended heapes of showes
And all these weake illusions ouerthrowes.
7
But wel he thought his powre made al seem plain,
And now t' his coronation he proceedes,
Which in most sumptuous fort (to intertaine
The gazing vulgar whom this error feedes)
Is furnisht with a stately-glorious traine,
Wherein the former kings he far exceeds:
And all t' amuse the world, and turne the thought
Of what, and how twas done, to what is wrought.
8
And that he might on many props repose
He strengths his owne, and who his part did take:
New officers, new counsellours he chose,
His eldest sonne the Prince of
Wales doth make,
His second
Lord high
Steward, and to those
Had hazarded their fortunes for his sake
He giues them charge, as merites their desart;
Seeking all meanes t' oppresse the aduerse part.
9
All Counsellers vnto the former king,
All th' officers, and iudges of the state,
He to disgrace, or els to death did bring
Lead by his owne, or by the peoples hate:
Who euermore by nature mallicing
Their might whom not their vertues, but their fate
Exalted hath, who when kings do what's naught
Because tis in their powre, tis thought their faut.
10
And plac'd for these such as were popular
Belou'd of him, and in the peoples grace,
Learned graue
Shirley he makes
Chauncellor,
One of great spirit, worthy his worthy race:
And
Clifford he ordaines
Lord Treasuror,
A man whose vertues well deseru'd that place:
Others to other roomes (whom people hold
So much more lou'd how much they loathd the old)
17
Then against those he strictly doth proceed
Who chiefe of
Glosters death were guilty thought,
(Not so much for the hatred of that deed)
But vnder this pretext the meanes he sought,
To ruine such whose might did much exceed
His powre to wrong, nor els could wel be wrought;
Law, Iustice, bloud, the zeale vnto the dead
Were on his side, and his drist shadowed.
12
Here maine of the greatest of the land
The
[...]
Accusd were of the act, strong proofes brought out
Which strongly were refell'd, the Lords all stand
To cleere their cause most resolutely stoute:
The king perceiuing what he tooke in hand
Was not with safety to be brought about
Desistes to vrge their death in anie wise,
Respecting number, strength, friends, and allies.
13
Nor was it time now in his tender raigne
And infant-young-beginning gouernment,
To striue with bloud when lenity must gaine
The mighty wight, and please the discontent:
New kings do feare, when old courts farther straine,
Establisht states to all things will consent:
He must dispence with his will, and their crime,
And seeke t'oppresse and weare them out with time.
14
Yet not to seeme but to haue something done
In what he could not as he would effect,
To satisfie the people that begun
Reuenge of wrong, and iustice to expect:
He causd be put to execution
One that to doe this murther was elect,
A base meane man whom few or none would misse,
Who first did serue their turne, and now serues his.
15
And to abase the too high state of those
That were accusd, and lessen their degrees,
Aumarle, Surry, Exceter, must lose
The names of Dukes, their titles, dignities,
And what soeuer honour with it goes:
The Earles their titles and their Signories,
And all they gote in th' end of
Richards raigne
Since
Glosters death, they mustrestore againe.
16
By this as if by
Ostracisme t'abate
That great presumptiue wealth, whereon they stand;
For first hereby impou'rishing their state
He kils the meanes they might haue to withstand:
Then equals them with other whom they hate,
Who (by their spoiles) are raisd to hie command,
That weake, and enuied if they should conspire
They wracke themselues, and he hath his desire.
17
And by this grace which yet must be a grace
As both they, and the world, are made belieue,
He doth himselfe secure and them defuce,
Thinking not rigor that which life doth giue:
But what an error was it in this case
To wrong so many, and to let them liue?
But errors are no errors but by fate,
For oft th' euent make soule faults fortunate.
18
The parlament which now is held, decreed
What euer pleasd the king but to propound;
Confirm'd the crowne to him and to his feed.
And by their oth their due obedience bound:
And ô b' it sinne t' examine how this deed
How iust tis done and on how fure a ground?
Whether that Court maie change due course or no
Or ought the realme against the realme can do?
19
Here was agreed to make all more secure
That
Richard should remaine for euermore
Close-prisoner, least the realme might chāce indure
Some new reuolt, or any fresh vprone:
And that if any should such broile procure
By him or for him, he should die therefore.
So that a talke of tumult and a breath
Would serue him as his passing-bell to death.
20
Yet reuerent
Carlile thou didst there oppose
Thy holy voice to saue thy Princes bloud,
And freely check'st this iudgement and his foes,
When all were bad, yet thou dar'st to be good:
Be it inrold that time may neuer lose
The memory how firme thy vertues stood,
When powre, disgrace, nor death could ought diuart
Thy glorious tongue, thus to reueale thy hart.
21
Graue, reuerent Lords, since that this sacred place
Our
Auentine, Retire, our holy hill;
This place, soule of our state, the Realmes best grace
Doth priuiledge me speake what reason will:
O let me speake my conscience in this case
Least sin of silence shew my hart was ill,
And let these walles witnes if you will not,
I do discharge my soule of this soule blot.
22
Neuer shall this poore breath of mine consent
That he that two and twenty yeeres hath raignd
As lawfull Lord, and king by iust discent,
Should here be iudged vnheard, and vnaraignd
By subiects two: Iudges incompetent
To iudge their king vnlawfully detaind,
And vn-brought forth to plead his guiltles cause,
Barring th' annointed libertie of lawes.
23
Haue you not done inough? blush to thinke,
Lay on your harts those hands; those hands too rash,
Know that this staine that's made doth farther sinke
Into your soules then all your blouds can wash,
Leaue with the mischiefe done and doe not linke
Sin vnto sin, for heauen, and earth will dash
This ill accomplisht worke ere it be long,
For weake he builds that sences wrong with wrong.
24
Stopt there was his too vehemēt speech with speed,
And he sent close to warde from where he stood:
His zeale vntimely deem'd too much t' exceed
The measure of his wit and did no good:
They resolute for all this doe proceed
Vnto that iudgement could not be withstood:
The king had all he crau'd or could compell,
And all was done we will not say how well.
25
Now
Muserelate a wofull accident
And tell the bloudshed of these mighty Peeres
Who lately reconcild, rest discontent,
Grieu'd with disgrace, remaining in their feares
How euerseeming outwardly content,
Yet th' inward touch that wounded honor beares
Rosts closely rankling and can find no ease
Till death of one side cure this great disease.
26
Meanes how to feele, and learne each others hart
By th'
Abbot now of
Westminster is found,
Who secretly disliking
Henries part
Inuites these Lords, and those he ment to sound,
Feasts them with cost, and drawes them on with art,
And darke, and doubtful questions doth propound:
Then plainer speakes, and yet vncertaine speakes,
Then wishes wel, then off abruptly breakes.
27
My Lord faith he, I feare we shall not finde
This long-desired king such as was thought:
But yet he may doe well: God turne his minde:
Tis yet new daies: but ill bodes new and nought:
Some yet speed well: though all men of my kind
Haue cause to doubt; his speech is not forgot,
That Princes had too little, we too much;
God giue him grace, but tis ill trusting such.
28
This open-close, apparent-darke discourse
Drew on much speech, and euery man replies,
And euery man ads heat, and wordes inforce
And vrge out words, for when one man espies
Anothers minde like his, then ill breedes worse,
And out breakes all in th' end what closest lies,
For when men well haue fed th' bloud being warme
Then are they most improuident of harme.
29
Bewray they did their in ward boyling spight
Each stirring other to reuenge their cause,
One saies he neuer should indure the sight
Of that forsworne, that wrongs both land and lawes:
Another vowes the same of his minde right:
A third t' a point more nere the matter drawes,
Sweares if they would, he would attempt the thing
To chaste th' vsurper, and replace their king.
30
Thus one by one kindling each others fire
Till all inflam'd they all in one agree,
All resolute to prosecute their ire,
Seeking their owne, and Countries cause to free:
And haue his first that their bloud did conspire,
For no way else they said but this could be
Their wrong-detained honor to redeeme,
Which true-bred bloud shoulde more then life esteeme.
31
And let not this our new-made faithles Lord
Saith
Surry thinke, that we are lest so bare
Though bare inough: but we will find a sword
To kill him with, when hee shall not beware:
For he that is with life and will but stoor'd,
Hath for reuenge inough, and needs not care,
For time will fit and furnish all the rest,
Let him but euen attend, and doe his best.
32
Then of the manner how t' effect the thing
Consulted was, and in the end agreed
That at a maske and common reuelling
Which should b' ordaind, they should performe the deed;
For that would be least doubted of the king
And fittest for their safety to proceed,
The night, their number, and the suddaine act
Would dash all order, and protect their fact.
33
Besides they might vnder the faire pretence
Of Tilts and Turnements which they intend,
Prouide them horse, and armour for defence,
And all things else conuenient for their end:
Besides they might hold sure intelligence
Among themselues without suspect t' offend:
The king would think they sought but grace in court
Withall their great preparing in this sort.
34
A solemne oth religiously they make
By intermutuall vowes protesting there
This neuer to reueale; nor to forsake
So good a cause, for daunger hope, or feare:
The Sacrament the pledge of faith they take,
And euery man vppon his sword doth sweere
By knighthood, honor, or what els should binde,
To assecure the more each others minde.
35
And whenal this was done, and thought welldone
And euery one assures him good successe,
And easie seemes the thing to euery one
That nought could crosse their plot or thē suppresse;
Yet one among the rest, whole mind not wonne
With th' ouerweening thought of hot excesse,
Nor headlong carried with the streame of will,
Nor by his owne election lead to ill:
36
Sober, milde
Blunt, whose learning, valor, wit
Sir Thomas Bluns.
Had taught true iudgement in the course of things,
Knew daungers as they were, and th humerous fit
Of ware-lesse discontent, what end it brings:
Counsels their heat with calme graue words, & fit
Words welfore thought that from experiēce springs,
And warnes a warier cariage in the thing
Least blind presumption worke their ruining.
37
My Lords (saith he) I know your wisedomes such
As that of my aduise you haue no need,
I know you know how much the thing doth touch
The maine of all your states, your bloud, your seed:
Yet since the same concernes my life as much
As his whose hand is chiefest in this deed,
And that my foote must go as farre as his,
I thinke my tongue may speake what needfull is.
38
The thing we enterprize I know doth beare
Great possibility of good effect,
For that so many men of might there are
That venter here this action to direct:
Which meaner wights of trust, and credit bare
Not so respected could not looke t' effect;
For none without great hopes will follow such
Whose powre, and honor doth not promise much.
39
Besides this new, and doubtfull gouernment,
The wauering faith of people vaine, and light,
The secret hopes of many discontent,
The naturall affection to the right,
Our lawfull sou'raignes life, in prison pent,
Whom men begin to pitty now, not spight,
Our wel-laid plot, and all I must confesse
With our iust cause doth promise good successe.
40
But this is yet the outward fairest side
Of our disseigne: within rests more of feare,
More dread of sad euent yet vndiscride
Then ô most worthy Lords I would there were:
But yet I speake not this as to deuide
Your thoughts from th' act, or to dismay your cheere,
Onely to adde vnto your forward will
A moderate feare to cast the worst of ill.
41
Danger before, and in, and after th' act
You needs must grant, is great, and to be waigh'd
Before: least while we doe the deed protract
It be by any of our selues be wraid:
For many being priuy to the fact
How hard it is to keepe it vnbetraid?
When the betrayer shall haue grace and life
And rid himselfe of danger and of strife.
42
For though some few contioue resolute,
Yet many shrinke, which at the first would dare
And be the formost men to execute,
If the act, and motion at one instant were:
But intermission suffers men dispute
What dangers are, and cast with farther care
Cold doubt cauils with honor, skorneth fame,
And in the end feare waighes down faith with shame.
43
Then in the act, what perils shall we finde
If either place, or time, or other course
Cause vs to alterth' order now assign'd?
Or that, then we expect things happen worse?
If either error, or a fainting minde,
An indiserect amazement or remorse
In any at that instant should be found,
How much it might the act, and all confound?
44
After the deed the daungers are no lesse,
Least that our forwardnes not seconded
By our owne followers, and accomplices
Being kept backe or flow or hindered:
The hastie multitude rush on t'oppresse
Confused weaknes there vnsuccored,
Or raise another head of that same race
T' auenge his death, and prosecute the case,
45
All this my Lords must be considered
The best and worst of that which maie succeed,
That valour mixt with feare, boldnes with dread,
May march more circumspect with better heed:
And to preuent these mischiefes mentioned
Is by our faith, our secrefie and speed,
For euen already is the worke begun
And we rest all vndone, till all be done.
46
And ô I could haue wisht another course
In open field t' haue hazarded my bloud,
But some are heere whose loue is of that force
To draw my life, whom zeale hath not withstood:
But like you not of your disseigne the worse
If the successe be good your course is good:
And ending well our honor then begins,
No hand of strife is pure, but that which wins.
47
This said, a sad still silence hold their minds
Vpon the fearefull proiect of their woe,
But that not long ere forward fury finds
Incouraging perswasions on to go:
We must said they, we will, our honour bindes,
Our safety bids, our faith must haue it so,
We know the worst can come, tis thought vpon,
We cannot shift, being in, we must goe on.
48
And on indeed they went, but ô not sarre,
A fatall stop trauersd their headlong course,
Their drist comes knowne, and they discouered are,
For some of many will be False of force:
Aumarle became the man that all did marre
Whether through indisoretions chance or worse,
He makes his peace with offring others bloud
And shewes the king how all the matter stood.
49
Then lo dismaid confusion all possest
Th' afflicted troupe hearing their plot discride,
Then runnes amazd distresse with sad vnrest
To this, to that, to flie, to stand, to hide:
Distracted terror knew not what was best
On what determination to abide,
At last despaire would yet stand to the sword,
To trie what friends would doe or fate afford.
50
Then this then that mans ayd they craue, implore,
Post here for helpe, seeke there their followers;
Coniure the frendes they had, labor for more,
Sollicite all reputed fauorers,
Who
Richards cause seem'd to affect before,
And in his name write, pray, send messengers;
To try what faith was left, if by this art
Anie would step to take afflictions part:
51
And some were found, & some againe draw backe
Vncertaine power could not it selfe retaine,
Intreat they may, autority they lacke,
And here, and there they march, but all in vaine:
With desp'rat course, like those that see their wracke
Euen on the Rockes of death, and yet they straine
That death maie not them idly find t'attend
Their certaine last, but worke to meet their end.
52
And long they stand not ere the chiefe surprizd
Conclude with their deare bloud their tragedie:
And all the rest disperst, run some disguisd
To vnknowne costes, some to the shores do flie,
Some to the woodes, or whether feare aduisd,
But running from all to destruction hye,
The breach once made vpon a battered state
Downe goes distresse, no shelter shroudes their fate.
53
O now what horror in their soules doth grow?
What sorrowes with their frendes, and nere allyes?
What mourning in their ruin'd houses now?
How many childrens plaints and mothers cryes?
How many wofull widowes left to bow
To sad disgrace? what perisht families?
What heires of hie rich hopes their thought smust frame
To bace-downe-looking pouerty and shame!
54
This slaughter, and calamitie forgoes
Thy eminent destruction wofull king,
This is the bloudie comet of thy woes
That doth fortell thy present ruyning:
Here was thy end decreed when these men rose
And euen with their, this act thy death did bring
Or hastened, at the least vpon this ground;
Yet if not this, another had beenbe found.
55
Kinges (Lordes of times and of occasions)
May take th' aduantage, when, and how they lift,
For now the Realme with these rebellions
Vext, and turmyld, was thought would not resist
Nor feele the wound, when like confusions
Should by this meanes be stayd, as all men wist,
The cause be'ing once cut off that did molest,
The land should haue her peace, and he his rest.
56
He knew this time, and yet he would not seeme
Too quicke to wrath, as if affecting bloud;
But yet complaines so far, that men might deeme
He would twere done, and that he thought it good;
And wisht that some would so his life esteeme
As rid him of these feares wherein he stood:
This knight was Sir Pierce of Exton.
And therewith eies a knight, that then was by,
Who soone could learne his lesson by his eie.
57
The man he knew was one that willingly
For one good looke would hazard soule and all,
An instrument for any villanie,
That needed no commission more at all:
A great ease to the king that should hereby
Not need in this a course of iustice call,
Nor seeme to wil the act, for though what's wrought
Were his own deed, he grieues should so be thought.
58
So soule a thing ô thou iniustice art
That tortrest both the doer and distrest,
For when a man hath done a wicked part,
O how he striues t' excuse to make the best,
To shift the fault, t'vnburthen his charg'd hart
And glad to finde the least furmise of rest:
And if he could make his seeme others sin,
O what repose what easelie findes therein?
59
This knight, but ô why should I call him knight
To giue impiety this reuerent stile,
Title of honour, worth, and vertues right
Should not be giuen to a wretch so vile?
O pardon me if I doe not aright,
It is because I will not here defile
My vnstaind verse with his opprobrious name,
And grace him so to place him in the same.
60
This eaitise goes and with him takes eight more
As desperat as himselfe; impiously bold
Such villaines as he knew would not abhorre
To execute what wicked act he would,
And hastes him downe to
Pomfret wherebefore
The restles king conuaid, was laide in hold:
There would he do the deed he thought should bring
To him great grace and fauour with his king.
61
Whether the soule receiue intelligence
By her nere
Genius of the bodies end,
And so impartes a sadnesse to the sense
Forgoing ruine whereto it doth end:
Or whether nature else hath conference
With profound sleope, and so doth warning send
By prophetizing dreames what hurt is neere,
And giues the heauie carefull hart to feare:
62
How euer so it is, the now sad king
Tost here and there his quiet to confound,
Feeles a straunge waight of sorrowes gathering
Vpon his trembling hart, and sees no ground:
Feeles so dayne terror bring cold shiuering.
Lists not to eat, still muses, sleepes vnfound,
His sences droope, his steedy eye vnquicke
And much he ayles, and yet hee is not sicke.
63
The morning of that day, which was his last,
After a weary rest rysing to paine
Out at a little grate his eyes he cast
Vppon those bordering hils, and open plaine,
And viewes the towne, and sees how people past,
Where others libertie makes him complaine
The more his owne, and grieues his soule the more
Conferring captiue-Crownes with freedome pore.
64
O happie man, faith hee, that lo I see
Grazing his cattel in those pleasant fieldes!
O if he knew his good, how blessed hee
That feeles not what affliction greatnes yeeldes,
Other then what he is he would not bee,
Nor chaung his state with him that Scepters weildes:
O thine is that true life, that is to liue,
To rest secure, and not rise vp to gricue.
65
Thou sit'st at home safe by thy quiet fire
And hear'st of others harmes, but feelest none;
And there thou telst of kinges and who aspire,
Who fall, who rise, who triumphs, who doe mone:
Perhappes thou talkst of mee, and dost inquire
Of my restraint, why here I liue alone,
O know tis others sin not my desart,
And I could wish I were but as thou art.
66
Thrice-happie you that looke as from the shore
And haue no venter in the wracke you see,
No sorrow, no occasion to deplore
Other mens trauayles while your selues sit free.
How much doth your sweet rest make vs the more
To see our misery and what we bee?
O blinded greatnes! thou with thy turmoyle
Still seeking happie life, mak'st life a toyle.
67
But looke on mee, and note my troubled raigne,
Examine all the course of my vext life;
Compare my little ioyes with my long paine,
And note my pleasures rare, my sorrowes rife,
My childhood difrent in others pride, and gaine,
My youth in daunger, farther yeares in strise,
My courses crost, my deedes wrest to the worst,
My honour spoild, my life in daunger forst.
68
This is my state, and this is all the good
That wretched I haue gotten by a crowne,
This is the life that costes men so much bloud
And more then bloud to make the same their owne,
O had not I then better beene t'haue stood
On lower ground, and safely liu'd vnknowne,
And beene a heards man rather then a king,
Which inexperience thinkes so sweet a thing.
69
O thou great
Monarch, and more great therefore
Dioclesian the Emperor.
For skorning that whereto vaine pride aspires,
Reckning thy gardens in
Illiria more
Then all the Empire; took'st those sweet retires:
Thou well didst teach, that ô he is not poore
That little hath, but he that much desires:
Finding more true delight in that small ground
Then in possessing all the earth was found.
70
But what do I repeating others good
To vexe mine owne perplexed soule the more?
Alas how should I now free this poore bloud
And care-worne body from this state restore?
How should I looke for life or liuely-hood
Kept here distrest to die, condemnd before,
A sacrifice prepared for his peace
That can but by my death haue his release?
71
Are kings that freedom giue themselues not free,
As meaner men to take what they maie giue?
O are they of so fatall a degree
That they cannot discend from that and liue?
Vnlesse they still be kings can they not bee,
Nor maie they their authority surviue?
Will not my yeelded crowne redeeme my breath?
Still am I fear'd? is there no way but death?
72
Scarce this word death had sorrow vttered,
But in rusht one, and tels him how a knight
Is come from court, his name deliuered.
What newes with him said he that traiterous wight?
What more remoues? must we be farther lead?
Are we not sent inough yet out of sight?
Or hath this place not strength sufficient
To guard vs in? or haue they worse intent?
73
By this the bloudy troope were at the dore,
When as a sodaine and a strange dismay
Inforst them straine, who should go in before;
One offers, and in offring makes a stay:
Another 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 mindes hinders them to proceed.
74
At length, as to some great assault the knight
Cheeres vp his fainting men all that he can,
And valiantly their courage doth incite
And all against one weake vnarmed man:
A great exployt worthy a man of might,
Much honour wretch therein thy valor wan:
Ah poore weake prince, yet men that presence feare
Which once they knew autoritie did beare.
75
Then on thrustes one, and he would formost be
To shead anothers bloud, but lost his owne;
For entring in, as soone as he did see
The face of maiestie to him well knowne,
Like
Marius soldier at
Minternum, hee
Stood still amazd his courage ouerthrowne:
The king seeing this, startes vp from where he fate
Out from his trembling hand his weapon gate.
76
Thus euen his foes that came to bring him death,
Bring him a weapon that before had none,
That yet he might not idly loose his breath
But diereuengd in action not alone:
And this good chaunce that this much fauoureth
He slackes not, for he presently speedes one,
And Lion-like vpon the rest he flies,
And here falles one, and there another lies.
77
And vp and downe he trauerses his ground,
Now wardes a felling blow, now strikes againe,
Then nimbly shiftes a thrust, then lendes a wound,
Now backe he giues, then rushes on amaine,
His quicke and readie hand doth so confound
These shamefull beastes that foure of them dies slain,
And all had perisht happily and well
But for one act, that ô I greiue to tell.
78
This coward knight seeing with shame and feare
His men thus slaine and doubting his owne end,
Leapes vp into a chaire that lo was there,
The whiles the king did all his courage bend
Against those foure that now before him were,
Doubting not who behind him doth attend,
And plies his handes vndaunted, vnaffeard
And with good hart, and life for life he stird.
79
And whiles he this, and that, and each mans blow
Doth eye, desend, and shift, being laid to sore
Backward he beates for more aduantage now,
Thinking the wall would safegard him the more,
When lo with impious hand o wicked thou
That shamefull durst not come to strike before,
Behind him gau'st that wofull deadly wound,
That laid that most sweet Prince flat on the ground.
08
Monster of men, ô what hast thou here done
Vnto an ouerpressed innocent,
Lab'ring against so many, he but one,
And one poore soule with care, with sorrow spent?
O could thy eies indure to looke vpon
Thy hands disgrace, or didst thou then relent?
But what thou didst I will not here deuine
Nor straine my thoughts to enter into thine.
81
But leue thee wretch vnto blacke infamie,
To darke eternall horror, and disgrace,
The hatefull skorne to all posterity,
The out-cast of the world, last of thy race,
Of whose curst seed, nature did then deny
To bring forth more her faire workes to deface:
And as asham'd to haue produc'd that past
She staies her hand, and makes this worst her last.
82
There lies that comely body all imbrude
With that pure bloud, mixt with that fowle he shed:
O that those sacred streames with such vile rude
Vnhallowed matter should be mingled!
O why was grossenes with such grace indude,
To be with that sweet mixture honoured?
Or seru'd it but as some vile graue ordaind,
Where an imbalmed corpes should be containd?
83
Those faire distended limmes all trembling lay,
Whom yet nor life nor death their owne could call,
For life remou'd had not rid all away,
And death though entring seas'd not yet on all:
That short-tim'd motion (that soone finish shall
The mouer ceasing) yet a while doth stay,
As th' organ sound a time suruiues the stop
Before it doth the dying note giue vp:
84
So holdes those organs of that goodly frame
The weake remaines of life a little space,
But ah full soone cold death poffest the same,
Set are those sun-like eles, bloudlesse that face,
And all that comely whole a lump became,
All that fair forme which death could scarce disgrace
Lies perisht thus, and thus vntimely fate
Hath finisht his most miserable state.
85
And thus one king most nere in bloud allide
is made th' oblation for the others peace:
Now onely one, both name and all beside
Intirely hath, plurality doth cease:
He that remaines, remaines vnterrifide
With others right; this day doth all release:
And henceforth he is absolutely king,
No crownes but one, this deed confirmes the thing.
86
And yet new
Hydraes lo, new heades appeare
T' afflict that peace reputed then so sure,
And gaue him much to do, and much to feare,
And long and daungerous tumults did procure,
And those euen of his chiefest followers were
Of whom he might presume him most secure,
Who whether not so grac'd or so preferd
As they expected, these new factions stird.
87
The
Percyes were the men, men of great might,
Strong in alliance, and in courage strong
That thus conspire, vnder pretence to right
The crooked courses they had suffered long:
Whether their conscience vrgd them or despight,
Or that they saw the part they tooke was wrong,
Or that ambition hereto did them call,
Or others enuide grace, or rather all.
88
What cause soeuer were, strong was their plot,
Their parties great, meanes good, th' occasion fit:
Their practise close, their faith suspected not,
Their states far off and they of wary wit:
Who with large promises draw in the Scot
To ayde their cause, he likes, and yeeldes to it,
Not for the Ioue of them or for their good,
But glad hereby of meanes to shed our bloud.
89
Then ioyne they with the
Welsh, who fitly traind
And all in armes vnder a mightie head
Great
Glendowr, who long warr'd, and much attaind,
Omen Glenden
Sharp conflicts made, and many vanquished:
With whom was
Edmond Earle of
March retaind
Being first his prisoner, now confedered,
A man the king much fear'd, and well he might
Least he should looke whether his Crown stood right.
90
For
Richard, for the quiet of the state,
Before he tooke those
Irish warres in hand
Rich. 2.
About succession doth deliberate,
And finding how the certaine right did stand,
With full consent this man did ordinate
The heyre apparent to the crowne and land:
Then iudge if this the king might nerely touch,
Although his might were smal, his right being much.
91
With these the
Percyes them confederate,
And as three heades they league in one intent,
And instituting a Triumuirate
Do part the land in triple gouerment:
Deuiding thus among themselues the state,
The
Percyes should rule all the
North from
Trent
And
Glendowr Wales: the
Earle of
March should bee
Lord of the
South from
Trent; and thus they gree.
92
Then those two helpes which still such actors find
Pretence of common good, the kings disgrace
Doth fit their course, and draw the vulgar mind
To further them and aide them in this cafe:
The king they accusd for cruell, and vnkind
That did the state, and crowne, and all deface;
A periurde man that held all faith in skorne,
Whose trusted othes had others made for sworne.
93
Besides the odious detestable act
Of that late murdered king they aggrauate,
Making it his that so had will'd the fact
That he the doers did remunerate:
And then such taxes daily doth exact
That were against the orders of the state,
And with all these or worse they him assaild
Who late of others with the like preuaild.
94
Thus doth contentious proud mortality
Afflict each other and it selfe torment:
And thus o thou mind-tortring misery
Restles ambition, borne in discontent,
Turn st and retossest with iniquity
The vnconstant courses frailty did inuent:
And fowlst faire order and defilst the earth
Fostring vp warre, father of bloud and dearth.
95
Great seemd the cause, and greatly to, did ad
The peoples loue thereto these crimes rehearst,
That manie gathered to the troupes they had
And many more do flocke from costs disperst:
But when the king had heard these newes so bad,
Th'vnlookt for dangerous toyle more nearly perst;
For bēt t'wards
Wales t' appease those tumults there,
H'is for'st diuert his course, and them forbeare.
96
Not to giue time vnto th'increasing rage
And gathering fury, forth he hastes with speed,
Left more delay or giuing longer age
To th'euill growne, it might the cure exceed:
All his best men at armes, and leaders sage
All he prepard he could, and all did need;
For to a mighty worke thou goest ô king,
To such a field that power to power shall bring.
97
There shall young
Hotespur with a fury lead
The son to the Earle of Northūberland.
Meete with thy forward sonne as fierce as he:
There warlike
Worster long experienced
In forraine armes, shall come t' incounter thee:
There
Dowglas to thy
Stafford shall make head:
There
Vernon for thy valiant
Blunt shal be:
There shalt thou find a doubtfull bloudy day,
Though sicknesse keepe
Northumberland away.
98
Who yet reseru'd, though after quit for this,
Another tempest on thy head to raise,
As if still wrong reuenging
Nemesis
Did meane t' afflict all thy continuall dayes:
And yet this field he happely might misse
For thy great good, and therefore well he staies:
What might his force haue done being ioynd thereto,
When that already gaue so much to do?
99
The swift approch and vnexspected speed
The king had made vpon this new-raisd force
In th'vnconfirmed troupes much feare did breed,
Vntimely hindring their intended course;
The ioyning with the
Welsh they had decreed
Was hereby stopt, which made their part the worse,
Northumberland with forces from the
North
Expected to be there, was not set forth.
100
And yet vndaunted
Hotspur seeing the king
So nere approch'd, leauing the worke in hand
With forward speed his forces marshalling,
Sets forth his farther comming to withstand:
And with a cheerfull voice incouraging
By his great spirit his well imboldned band,
Bringes a strong host of firme resolued might,
And plac'd his troupes before the king in sight.
101
This day (saith he) ô faithfull valiaunt frendes,
What euer it doth giue, shall glorie giue:
This day with honor frees our state, or endes
Our misery with fame, that still shall liue,
And do but thinke how well this day he spendes
That spendes his bloud his countrey to relieue:
Our holie cause, our freedome, and our right,
Sufficient are to moue good mindes to fight.
102
Besides th' assured hope of victory
That wee may euen promise on our side
Against this weake-constrained companie,
Whom force & feare, not will, and loue doth guide
Against a prince whose soule impiety
The heauens do hate, the earth cannot abide,
Our number being no lesse, our courage more,
What need we doubt if we but worke therefore.
103
This said, and thus resolu'd euen bent to charge
Vpon the king, who well their order viewd
And carefull noted all the forme at large
Of their proceeding, and their multitude:
And deeming better if he could discharge
The day with safetie, and some peace conclude,
Great proffers sendes of pardon, and of grace
If they would yeeld, and quietnes imbrace.
104
But this refusd, the king with wrath incensd
Rage against fury doth with speed prepare:
And ô faith he, though I could haue dispensd
With this daies bloud, which I haue sought to spare
That greater glory might haue recompensd
The forward worth of these that so much dare,
That we might honor had by th' ouerthrown
That th' wounds we make, might not haue bin our own.
105
Yet since that other mens iniquity
Calles on the sword of wrath against my will,
And that themselues exact this cruelty,
And I constrained am this bloud to spill:
Then on my maisters, on couragiously
True-harted subiects against traitors ill,
And spare not them who seeke to spoile vs all,
Whose fowle confused end soone see you shall.
106
Straight moues with equall motion equall rage
The like incensed armies vnto blood,
One to defend, another side to wage
Foule ciuill war, both vowes their quarrell good:
Ah too much heare to bloud doth now inrage
Both who the deed prouokes and who withstood,
That valor here is vice, here manhood sin,
The forward st hands doth ô least honor win.
107
But now begin these fury-mouing soundes
The notes of wrath that musicke brought from hell,
The ratling drums which trumpets voice cōfounds,
The cryes, th' incouragements, the shouting shrell;
That all about the beaten ayre reboundes,
Thundring confused, murmurs horrible,
To rob all sence except the sence to fight,
Well handes may worke, the mind hath lost his sight.
108
O war! begot in pride and luxury,
The child of wrath and of dissention,
Horrible good; mischiefe necessarie,
The fowle reformer of confusion,
Vniust-iust scourge of our iniquitie,
Cruell recurer of corruption:
O that these sin-sicke states in need should stand
To be let bloud with such a boystrous hand!
109
And ô how well thou hadst bene spar'd this day
Had not wrong counsaild
Percy bene peruers,
The Prince of Wales,
Whose yong vndanger'd hand now rash makes way
Vpon the sharpest fronts of the most fierce:
Where now an equall fury thrusts to stay
And rebeat-backe that force and his disperse,
Then these assaile, then those chace backe againe,
Till staid with new-made hils of bodies slaine.
110
There lo that new-appearing glorious starre
Wonder of Armes, the terror of the field
Young
Henrie, laboring where the stoutest are,
And euen the stoutest forces backe to yeild,
There is that hand boldned to bloud and warre
That must the sword in woundrous actions weild:
But better hadst thou learnd with others bloud
A lesse expence to vs, to thee more good.
111
Hadst thou not there lent present speedy ayd
To thy indaungerde father nerely tyrde,
Whom fierce incountring
Dowglas ouerlaid,
That day had there his troublous life expirde:
Heroycall Couragious
Blunt araid
Which was Sir Walter Blunt
In habite like as was the king attirde
And deemd for him, excusd that fate with his,
For he had what his Lord did hardly misse.
112
For thought a king he would not now disgrace
The person then supposd, but prince like shewes
Glorious effects of worth that fit his place,
And fighting dyes, and dying ouerthrowes:
Another of that forward name and race
Another Blunt which was the kings Standard bearer.
In that hotte worke his valiant life bestowes,
Who bare the standard of the king that day,
Whose colours ouerthrowne did much dismaie.
113
And deare it cost, and ô much bloud is shed
To purchase thee this loosing victory
O trauayld king: yet hast thou conquered
A doubtfull day, a mightie enemy:
But ô what woundes, what famous worthlyes dead!
That makes the winner looke with sorrowing eye,
Magnanimous
Stafford lost that much had wrought,
And valiant
Shorly who great glory gote.
Sir Hugh Shorly.
114
Such wracke of others bloud thou didst behold
O furious
Hotspur, ere thou lost thine owne!
Which now once lost that heate in thine waxt cold,
And soone became thy Armie ouerthrowne;
And ô that this great spirit, this courage bold,
Had in some good cause bene rightly showne!
So had not we thus violently then
Haue termd that rage, which valor should haue ben.
115
But now the king retires him to his peace,
A peace much like a feeble sickemans sleepe,
(Wherein his waking paines do neuer cease
Though seeming rest his closed eyes doth keepe)
For ô no peace could euer so release
His intricate turmoiles, and sorrowes deepe,
But that his cares kept waking all his life
Continue on till death conclude the strife.
116
Whose harald sicknes, being sent before
With full commission to denounce his end,
And paine, and griefe, enforcing more and more,
Besiegd the hold that could not long defend,
And so consum'd all that imboldning store
Of hote gaine-striuing bloud that did contend,
Wearing the wall so thin that now the mind
Might well looke thorow, and his frailty find.
117
When lo, as if the vapours vanisht were,
Which heate of boyling bloud & health did breed,
(To cloude the sence that nothing might appeare
Vnto the thought, that which it was indeed)
The lightned soule began to see more cleere
How much it was abusd, & notes with heed
The plaine discouered falsehood open laid
Of ill perswading flesh that so betraid.
118
And lying on his last afflicted bed
Where death & conscience both before him stand,
Th'one holding out a booke wherein he red
In bloudie lines the deedes of his owne hand;
The other shewes a glasse, which figured
An ougly forme of fowle corrupted sand:
Both bringing horror in the hyest degree
With what he was, and what he straight should bee.
119
Which seeing all confusd trembling with feare
He lay a while, as ouerthrowne in sprite,
At last commaunds some that attending were
To fetch the crowne and set it in his sight,
On which with fixed eye and heauy cheere
Casting a looke,
O God (saith he) what right
I had to thee my soule doth now conceiue;
Thee, which with bloud I gote, with horror leaue.
120
Wert thou the cause my climing care was such
To passe those boundes, nature, and law ordaind?
Is this that good which promised so much,
And seemd so glorious ere it was attaind?
Wherein was neuer ioye but gaue a touch
To checke my soule to thinke, how thou wert gaind,
And now how do I leaue thee vnto mine,
Which it is dread to keepe, death to resigne.
121
With this the soule rapt wholy with the thought
Of such distresse, did so attentiue weigh
Her present horror, whilst as if forgote
The dull consumed body senceles lay,
And now as breathles quite, quite dead is thought,
When lo his sonne comes in, and takes awaie
The fatall crowne from thence, and out he goes
As if vnwilling longer time to lose.
122
And whilst that sad confused soule doth cast
Those great accounts of terror and distresse,
Vppon this counsell it doth light at last
How she might make the charge of horror lesse,
And finding no way to acquit thats past
But onely this, to vse some quicke redresse
Of acted wrong, with giuing vp againe
The crowne to whom it seem'd to appertaine.
123
Which found, lightned with some small ioy shee hyes,
Rouses her seruaunts that dead sleeping lay,
(The members of hir house,) to exercise
One feeble dutie more, during her stay:
And opening those darke windowes he espies
The crowne for which he lookt was borne awaie,
And all-agrieu'd with the vnkind offence
He causd him bring it backe that tooke it thence.
124
To whom (excusing his presumteous deed
By the supposing him departed quite)
He said: ô Sonne what needes thee make such speed
Vnto that care, where feare exceeds thy right,
And where his sinne whom thou shalt now succeed
Shall still vpbraid thy' inheritance of might,
And if thou canst liue, and liue great from wo
Without this carefull trauaile; let it go.
125
Nay father since your fortune did attaine
So hye a stand: I meane not to descend,
Replyes the Prince; as if what you did gaine
I were of spirit vnable to defend:
Time will appease them well that now complaine,
And ratefie our interest in the end;
What wrong hath not continuance quite outworne?
Yeares makes that right which neuer was so borne.
126
If so, God worke his pleasure (said the king)
And ô do thou contend with all thy might
Such euidence of vertuous deeds to bring,
That well may proue our wrong to be our right:
And let the goodnes of the managing
Race out the blot of foule attayning quite:
That discontent may all aduauntage misse
To wish it otherwise then now it is.
127
And since my death my purpose doth preuent
Touching this sacred warre I tooke in hand,
(An action wherewithall my soule had ment
T'appease my God, and reconcile my land)
To thee is left to finish my intent,
Who to be safe must neuer idly stand;
But some great actions entertaine thou still
To hold their mindes who else will practise ill.
128
Thou hast not that aduantage by my raigne
To riot it (as they whom long descent
Hath purchasd loue by custome) but with payne
Thou must contend to buy the worlds content:
What their birth gaue them, thou hast yet to gaine
By thine owne vertues, and good gouernment,
And that vnles thy worth confirme the thing
Thou canst not be the father to a king.
129
Nor art thou born in those calme daies, where rest
Hath brought a sleepe sluggish securitie;
But in tumultuous times, where mindes adrest
To factions are inurd to mutinie,
A mischiefe not by force to be supprest
Where rigor still begets more enmitie,
Hatred must be beguild with some new course,
Where states are strong, & princes doubt their force
130
This and much more affliction would haue said
Out of th'experience of a troublous raigne,
For which his high desires had dearly paide
Th'interest of an euer-toyling paine
But that this all-subduing powre here staid
His faultring tongue and paine r'inforc'd againe,
And cut off all the passages of breath
To bring him quite vnder the state of death.
113
In whose possession I must leaue him now,
And now into the
Ocean of new toyles,
Into the stormie Maine where tempests grow
Of greater ruines, and of greater spoiles
Set forth my course to hasten on my vow
O're all the troublous deepe of these turmoiles:
And if I may but liue t'attaine the shore
Of my desired end, I wish no more.
132
Help on ô sou'raigne
Muse, helpe on my course
If these my toyles be gratefull in thy eyes;
Or but looke on, to cheere my feeble force
That I faint not in this'great enterprize:
And you ô worthy you, that take remorse
Of my estate, and helpe my thoughts to rise;
Continue still your grace that I may giue
End to the worke wherein your worth may liue.
THE ARGVMENT OF THE FOVVRTH BOOKE.
Henry the fifth cuts off his enemy
The earle of
Cambridge that conspir'd his death:
Henry the fixt maryed vnluckely
His and his countryes glory ruineth:
Suffolke that made the match preferd too hie
Going to exile a pirat murthereth:
What meanes the Duke of
Yorke obserud to gaine
The worlds goodwill, seeking the crowne t'attaine.
1
CLose smothered lay the low depressed fire,
Whose after-issuing flames confounded all
Whilst thou victorious
Henry didst conspire
Hen. 5.
The wracke of
Fraunce, that at thy feete did fall:
Whilst ioyes of gotten spoiles, and new desire
Of greater gaine to greater deedes did call
Thy conquering troupes, that could no thoughts retaine
But thoughts of glorie all that working raigne.
2
What do I feele ô now in passing by
These blessed times that I am forst to leaue?
What trembling sad remorse doth terrefie
M' amazed thought with what I do conceiue?
What? doth my pen commit impietie
To passe those sacred
tropheis without leaue?
And do I sin, not to salute your ghostes
Great worthies, so renown'd in forraine coasts?
3
Who do I see out of the darke appeare,
Couered almost with clowdes as with the night,
That here presents him with a martiall cheere
Seeming of dreadfull, and yet louely fight?
Whose eye giues courage, & whose brow hath feare
Both representing terror and delight,
And staies my course, and off my purpose breakes,
And in obraiding wordes thus fiersly speakes.
4
Vngratefull times that impiously neglect
That worth that neuer times againe shall shew,
What, merites all our toile no more respect?
Or else standes idlenes asham'd to know
Those wondrous Actions that do so obiect
Blame to the wanton, sin vnto the slow?
Can
England see the best that shee can boast
Ly thus vngrac'd, vndeckt, and almost loft?
5
Why do you seeke for fained
Palladins
Out of the sinoke of idle vanitie,
That maie giue glorie to the true dissignes
Of
Bourchier, Talbot, Neuile, Willoughby?
Why should not you striue to fill vp your lines
With wonders of your owne, with veritie?
T' inflame their ofspring with the loue of Good
And glorious true examples of their bloud.
6
O what eternall matter here is found!
Whence new immortall
Fliads might proceed,
That those whose happie graces do abound
In blessed accents here maie haue to feed
Good thoughts, on no imaginary ground
Of hungrie shadowes which no profit breed:
Whence musicke like, instant delight may grow,
But when men all do know they nothing know.
7
And why dost thou in lamentable verse
Nothing but bloudshed, treasons, sin and shame,
The worst of timos, th'extreame of ils rehearse,
To raise old staines, and to renew dead blame?
As if the minds of th'evill, and peruerse
Were not far sooner trained from the same
By good example of faire vertuous acts,
Then by the shew of foule vngodly facts
8
O that our times had had some sacred wight,
Whose wordes as happie as our swordes had bin
To haue prepard for vs
Tropheis aright
Of vndecaying frames t'haue rested in:
Triumphant Arkes of perdurable might
O holy lines: that such aduauntage win
Vpon the Sieth of time in spight of yeares,
How blessed they that gaine what neuer weares.
9
What is it ô to do, if what we do
Shall perish nere as soone as it is donne?
What is that glorie we attaine vnto
With all our toile, if lost as soone as wonne?
O small requitall for so great a doo
Is this poore present breath a smoake soone gone;
Or these dombe stones erected for our sake,
Which formles heapes few stormie chaunges make.
10
Tell great ELIZA since her daies are grac'd
With those bright ornaments to vs denide,
That she repaire what darknes hath defac'd,
And get our ruyn'd deedes reediside:
Shee in whose all directing eye is plac'd
A powre the highest powers of wit to guide,
She may commaund the worke and ouersee
The holy frame that might eternall bee.
11
O would she be content that time should make
A rauenous pray vpon her glorious raigne;
That darknes and the night should ouertake
So cleere a brightnes, shining without staine?
Ah no, she softens some no doubt that wake
For her eternity, with pleasing paine:
And if she for her selfe prepare this good,
O let her not neglect those of her bloud.
12
This that great
Monarch Henry seemd to craue;
Hen. 5.
When (weighing what a holy motiue here
Vertue proposd, and fit for him to haue,
Whom all times ought of dutie hold most deare)
I sighd, and wishd that some would take t'ingraue
With curious hand so proud a worke to reare,
To grace the present, and to blesse times past,
That might for euer to our glorie last.
13
So should our well taught times haue learn'd alike
How faire shind vertue, and how soule vice stood,
When now my selfe haue driuen to mislike
Those deedes: of worth I dare not vow for good:
I cannot mone who lose, nor praise who seeke
By mightie Actions to aduaunce their bloud;
I must faie who wrought most, least honor had,
How euer good the cause, the deedes were bad.
14
And onely tell the worst of euery raine
And not the intermedled good report,
I leaue what glorye vertue did attaine
At th'euermemorable Agincorte:
I leaue to tell what wit, what powre did gaine
Th'assieged
Roan, Caen, Dreux, or in what sort:
How maiestic with terror did aduaunce
Her conquering foote on all subdued
Fraunce.
15
All this I passe, and that magnanimous King
Mirror of vertue, miracle of worth,
Whose mightie Actions with wise managing
Forst prouder bosting climes to serue the
North:
The best of all the best the earth can bring
Skarse equals him in what his raigne brought forth,
Being of a mind as forward to aspire
As fit to gouerne what he did desire.
16
His comely body was a goodly seate
Where vertue dwelt most faire as lodgd most pure,
A bodic strong whene vse of strength did get
A stronger state to do, and to endure:
Making his life th' example to beget
Like spirit in those he did to good in vre,
Most glorying to aduaunce true vertuous bloud,
As if he greatnes sought but to do good.
17
Who as the chiefe, and all-directing head,
Did with his subiects as his members liue,
And them to goodnes forced not, but lead
Winning not much to haue, but much to giue:
Deeming the powre of his, his powre did spread
As borne to blesse the world & not to grieue:
Adornd with others spoiles not subiects store,
No king exacting lesse, none winning more.
18
He after that corrupted faith had bred
An ill inur'd obedience for commaund,
And languishing luxuriousnes had spred
Feeble vnaptnes ouer all the land,
Yet he those long vnordred troupes so led
Vnder such formall discipline to stand,
That euen his soule seemd only to direct
So great a bodie such exployts t'effect.
19
He bringes abrode distracted discontent,
Disperst ill humors into actions hie,
And to vnite them all in one consent
Plac'd the faire marke of glorie in their eye,
That malice had no leasure to dissent,
Nor enuie time to practise treachery,
The present actions do diuert the thought
Of madnes past, while mindes were so well wrought.
20
Here now were pride, oppression, vsury,
The canker-eating mischeifes of the state,
Cal'd forth to praie vppon the enemie,
Whilst the home-burthned better lightned sate:
Ease was not suffered with a gredie eye
T'examine states or priuate wealthes to rate,
The silent Courtes warr'd not with busie wordes,
Nor wrested law gaue the contentious swordes.
21
Now nothing entertaines th'attentiue care
But stratagems, assaults, surprises, fights;
How to giue lawes to them that conquered were,
How to articulate with yeelding wights:
The weake with mercie, and the proud with feare
How to retaine, to giue desarts their right,
Were now the Arts, and nothing else was thought
But how to win and maintaine what was gote.
22
Here ô were none that priuately possest
And held alone imprisoned maiestie,
Proudly debarring entraunce from the rest
As if the praie were theirs by victorie:
Here no detractor woundes who merits best,
Nor shameles brow cheeres on impietie,
Vertue who all her toyle with zeale had spent
Not here all vnrewarded, sighing went.
23
But here the equally respecting eye
Of powre, looking alike on like desarts,
Blessing the good made others good thereby.
More mightie by the multitude of harts:
The field of glorie vnto all doth lie
Open alike, honor to all imparts;
So that the only fashion in request
Was to bee good or good-like, as the rest.
24
So much ô thou example dost effect
Being far a better maister then commaund,
That how to do by doing dost direct
And teachest others, action by thy hand.
Who followes not the course that kings elect?
When Princes worke, who then will idle stand?
And when that dooing good is onely thought
Worthy reward; who will be bad for nought?
25
And had not th' earle of
Cābridge with vaine speed
Vntimely practizd for anothers right,
With hope t'aduaunce those of his proper seed,
(On whom yet rule seem'd destined to light)
The land had seene none of her owne to bleed
During this raigne, nor no aggrieued sight:
None the least blacknes interclouded had
So faire a day, nor any eye lookt sad.
26
But now when
Fraunce perceiuing from a far
The gathering tempest growing on from hence
Readie to fall, threatning their state to marre,
They labor all meanes to prouide defence:
And practising how to preuent this warre,
And shut out such calamities from thence,
Do softer here some discord lately growne
To hold Ambition busied with her owne.
27
Finding those humors which they saw were fit
Soone to be wrought and easie to be fed,
Swolne full with enuie that the crowne should sit
There where it did, as if established:
And whom it toucht in bloud to grieue at it
They with such hopes and helps sollicited,
That this great Earle was drawne t'attempt the thing
And practises how to depose the king.
28
For being of mightie meanes to do the deed
And yet of mightier hopes then meanes to do,
And yet of spirit that did his hopes exceed,
And then of bloud as great to ad thereto:
All which, with what the gold of
Fraūce could breed
Being powers inough a climing mind to woo,
He so imploid, that many he had wonne
Euen of the chiefe the king relide vppon.
29
The wel-known right of the Earle of
March alurd
A leaning loue, whose cause he did pretend;
Whereby he knew that so himselfe procurd
The Crowne for his owne children in the end:
For the Earle being (as he was assurd)
Vnapt for issue, it must needes descend
On those of his being next of
Clarence race,
As who by course of right should hold the place.
30
It was the time when as the forward Prince
Had all prepar'd for his great enterprize,
At Southhaton.
And readie stand his troupes to part from hence
And all in stately forme and order lyes:
When open fame giues out intelligence
Of these bad complots of his enemies:
Or else this time of purpose chosen is
Though knowne before, yet let run on till this.
31
That this might yeeld the more to aggrauate
Vpon so foule a deed so vilely sought,
Now at this time t'attempt to ruinate
So glorious great disseignes so forward brought:
Whilst carefull vertue seekes t'aduaunce the state
And for her euerlasting honor sought
That though the cause were right, and title strong
The time of dooing it, yet makes it wrong.
32
And straight an vnlamented death he had,
And straight were ioyfully the Anchors weighd
And all flocke fast aboord, with visage glad,
As if the sacrifize had now beene payd
For their good speed; that made their stay so sad
Lothing the least occasion that delayd.
And now new thoughts, great hopes, calme seas, fair windes
Whith present action intertaines their mindes.
33
No other crosse ô
Henry saw thy daies
But this that toucht thy now possessed hold;
Nor after long, till this mans sonne assaies
Richard Duke of Yorke.
To get of thine the right that he controwld:
For which contending long, his life he paies;
So that it fatall seemd the father should
Thy winning seeke to staie, and then his sonne
Should be the cause to loose, when thou hadst won.
34
Yet now in this so happie a meane while
And inter lightning times thy vertues wrought,
That discord had no leasure to defile
So faire attempts with a tumultuous thought:
And euen thy selfe, thy selfe didst so beguile
With such attention vppon what was sought,
That time affoordes not now with care or hare
Others to seeke thee to secure thy state.
35
Else ô how easie had it beene for thee
All the pretendant race t'haue laid full low
If thou proceeded hadst with crueltie,
Not suffering anie fatall branch to grow:
But vnsuspicious magnanimitie
Shames such effects of feare, and force to show:
Busied in free, and open Actions still
Being great; for being good, hates to be ill.
36
Which ô how much it were to be requir'd
In all of might, if all were like of mind;
But when that all depraued haue conspird
To be vniust, what saftie shall they find
(After the date of vertue is expird)
That do not practize in the selfe-same kind,
And countermine against deceite with guile?
But ô what mischiefe feeles the world the while?
37
And yet such wronges are held meete to be don,
And often for the state thought requisite,
As when the publicke good depends thereon,
When most iniustice is esteemd most right:
But ô what good with doing ill is won?
Who hath of bloud made such a benefite
As hath not fear'd more after then before,
And made his peace the lesse, his plague the more?
38
Far otherwise dealt this vndaunted king
That cheerished the ofspring of his foes
And his competitors to grace did bring,
And them his frendes for Armes, and honors, chose;
As if plaine courses were the safest thing
Where vpright goodnes, sure, and stedfast goes
Free from that subtile mask't impietie,
Which this depraued world calles policie.
39
Yet how hath fate dispos'd of all this good?
What haue these vertues after times availd?
In what steed hath hy-raised valor stood,
When this continuing cause of greatnes faild?
Then when proud-growne the irritated bloud
Enduring not it selfe it selfe assaild,
As though that
Prowesse had but learnt to spill
Much bloud abrode to cut her throte with skill.
40
O doth th'
Eternall in the course of thinges
So mixe the causes both of good and ill,
That thus the one effects of th' other bringes,
As what seemes made to blisse, is borne to spill?
What from the best of vertues glorie springes
That which the world with miserie doth fill?
Is th' end of happines but wretchednesse,
Hath sin his plague, and vertue no successe?
41
Either that is not good, the world holds good,
Or else is so confusd with ill, that we
Abused with th'appearing likelihood
Run to offend, whilst we thinke good to be:
Or else the heauens made man, in furious bloud
To torture man: And that no course is free
From mischiefe long. And that faire daies do breed
But storms, to make more foule, times that succeed.
42
Who would haue thought but so great victories,
Such conquests, riches, land, and kingdome gaind,
Could not but haue establish't in such wise
This powreful state, in state to haue remaind?
Who would haue thought that mischief could deuise
A way so soone to loose what was attaind?
As greatnes were but shewd to grieue not grace,
And to reduce vs into far worse case.
43
With what contagion
France didst thou insect
The land by thee made proud, to disagree?
T'inrage them so their owne swords to direct
Vpon themselues that were made sharpe in thee?
Why didst thou teach them here at home t'erect
Trophees of their bloud which of thine should be?
Or was the date of thy affliction out,
And so was ours by course to come about?
44
But that vntimely death of this Great King,
Whose nine yeares raign so mighty wōders wrought
To thee thy hopes, to vs despaire did bring
Not long to keepe, and gouerne what was gote:
For those that had th'affaires in managing
Although their countries good they greatly sought,
Yet so ill accidents vnfitly fell
That their desseignes could hardly prosper well.
45
An infant king doth in the state succeed
Skarse one yeare old, left vnto others guide,
Whose carefull trust, though such as shewd indeed
They waighd their charge more then the world beside;
And did with dutie, zeale and loue proceed:
Yet for all what their trauaile could prouide
Could not woo fortune to remaine with vs
When this her Minion was departed thus.
46
But by degrees first this, then that regaind
The turning tide beares backe with flowing chaunce
Vnto the Dolphin all we had attaind,
And fils the late low-running hopes of
Fraunce,
When
Bedford who our onely hold maintaind
Death takes from vs their fortune to aduaunce,
And then home strife that on it selfe did fall
Neglecting forraine care, did soone loose all.
47
Nere three score years are past since
Bullinbrooke
Did first attaine (God knowes how iust) the crowne:
And now his race for right possessors tooke
Were held of all, to hold nought but their owne:
When
Richard Duke of
Yorke, begins to looke
Into their right, and makes his title knowne:
Wakening vp sleeping-wrong that lay as dead
To witnes how his race was iniured.
48
His fathers end in him no feare could moue
T'attempt the like against the like of might,
Where long possession now of feare, and loue
Seem'd to prescribe euen an innated right,
So that to proue his state was to disproue
Time, law, consent, oth, and allegeance quight:
And no way but the waie of bloud there was
Through which with all confusion he must passe.
49
O then yet how much better had it beene
T'indure a wrong with peace, then with such toyle
T'obtaine a bloudie right; since Right is sinne
That is ill sought, and purchased with spoile?
What madnes vnconstrained to begin
To right his state, to put the state in broyle?
Iustice her selfe maie euen do wrong in this,
No war be'ing right but that which needfull is.
50
And yet that oportunity which led
Him to attempt, seemes likewise him t'excuse:
A feeble spirited king that gouerned
Vnworthy of the Scepter he did vse;
His enemies that his worth maliced,
Who both the land and him did much abuse,
The poeples loue, and his apparant right,
May seeme sufficient motiues to incite.
51
Besides the now ripe wrath (deferd till now,)
Of that sure and vnfailing
Justicer,
That neuer suffers wrong so long to grow
And to incorporate with right so farre;
That it might come to seeme the same in show,
T'incourage those that euill minded are
By such successe; but that at last he will
Confound the branch whose root was planted ill.
52
Else might the ympious say with grudging spright,
Doth God permit the great to riot free,
And blesse the mighty though they doe vnright,
As if he did vnto their wrongs agree?
And only plague the weake and wretched wights
For smallest faults euen in the highest degree?
When he but vsing them others to scourge,
Likewise of them at length the world doth purge.
53
But could not ô for bloudshed satisfie
The now well-ruling of th'ill-gotten crowne?
Must euen the good receiue the penaltie
Of former sinnes that neuer were their owne?
And must a iust kings bloud with miserie
Pay for a bad vniustly ouerthrowne?
Then ô I see due course must rightly goe
And th' earth must trace it or else purchase woe.
54
And sure this king that now the crowne possest
Henry the sixt was one, whose life was free
From that commaund of vice, whereto the rest
Of many mighty foueraignes subiectés be:
And numbred might haue beene among the best
Of other men, if not of that degree:
A right good man, but yet an euill king
Vnfit for what he had in managing.
55
Mild, meeke of spirit, by nature patient:
No thought t' increase or scarse to keepe his owne:
Apter for pardoning then for punishment,
Seeking his bounty, not his powre t' haue knowne;
Far from reuenge, soone won, soone made content:
As fitter for a cloyster then a crowne:
Whose holy minde so much addicted is
On th'world to come, that he neglecteth this.
56
With such a weake, good, feeble, godly king
Hath
Richard Duke of
Yorke his cause to trie:
Who by th'experience of long managing
The warres of
Fraunce with supreame dignitie;
And by his owne great worth with furthering
The common good against the enemie,
Had wrought that zeale and loue attend his might
And made his spirit equall vnto his right.
57
For now the
Duke of
Bedford beeing dead,
He is ordaind the Regent to succeed
In
Fraunce for fiue yeares, where he trauailed
Whith ready hand and with as carefull heed
To seeke to turne backe fortune that now fled,
And hold vp falling power, in time of need:
And gote, and lost and reattaines againe
That which againe was lost for all his paine.
58
His time expird, he should for fiue yeares more
Haue had his charge prolong'd, but
Sommerset
The Duke of Somersit a great enemy to the Duke of Yorke & had euer enuied his prefermēt.
That still had enuide his commaund before,
That place and honor for himselfe did get:
Which ans that matter to th' alreadie store
Of kindled hate, which such a fire doth set
Vnto the touch of that confounding flame
As both their blouds could neuer quench the same.
59
And now the weaknes of that feeble head
That doth neglect all care, but his soules care,
So easie meanes of practise ministred
Vnto th'ambitious members to prepare
Their owne desires, to what their humors lead;
That all good Actions coldly followed are,
And seurall-tending hopes do wholy bend
To other now then to the publique end.
60
And to draw on more speedy misery,
The king vnto a fatall match is led
With
Rayners daughter king of
Sicilie,
This Rainer was Duke of Aniou & only inioid the title of the K. of Sicilia.
Whom with vnlucky starres he married:
For by the meanes of this affinitie
Was lost all that his Father conquered,
Euen as if
Fraunce had some
Erynnis sent
T'auenge their wrongs done by the insolent.
61
This marriage was the
Duke of
Suffolks deed
With great rewardes won to effect the same:
Which made him that he tooke so little heed
Vnto his countries good, or his owne shame:
Being a match could stand vs in no steed
Which were deliuered vp to her father vpon the match.
For strength, for wealth, for reputation, fame:
But cunningly contriued for their gaine
To cost vs more then
Aniou, Mauns, and
Maine.
62
And yet as if he had accomplished
Some mighty benefit vnto the land;
He gote his trauailes to be registred
In Parliment, for euermore to stand
A witnes to approue all what he did:
To th' end that if hereafter it were scand,
Autoritie might yet be on his side,
As doing nought but what was ratifide.
63
Imagining th' allowance of that place
Would make that good the which he knew was naught,
And so would his negotiation grace
As none would thinke it was his priuat faut:
Wherein though wit dealt wary in this case,
Yet in the end it selfe it ouer raught,
Striuing to hide he opened it the more,
His after care shewd craft had gone before.
64
Deare didst thou buy ô king so faire a wife,
So rare a spirit, so high a minde the while:
Whose portion was destruction, dowry strife,
Whose bed was sorrow, whose imbracing spoile:
Whose maintenance cost thee, and thine their life,
And whose best comfort neuer was but toyle:
What
Paris brought this booty of desire
To set our mighty
Ilium here on fire?
65
I grieue that I am forst to say thus much,
To blame her, that I yet must wonder at;
Whose so sweet beauty, wit and worth were such,
As euerlasting admiration gat:
Yet doth my countries zeale so nerely touch
That I am drawne to say I know not what,
And yet ô that my pen should euer giue
Staine to that sex by whom her fame doth liue.
66
For sure those vertues well deserud a crowne,
And had it not beene ours, no doubt she might
Haue matcht the worthiest that the world hath known
And now sate faire with fame, with glorie bright:
But comming in the way where sin was grown
So foule and thicke, it was her chance to light
Amidst that grosse infection of those times,
And so came staind with blacke disgracefull crimes.
67
And some the world must haue on whom to lay
The heauie burthen of reproach, and blame,
Against whose deedes th' afflicted may inuay
As th' only Authors, whence destruction came:
When yet perhaps twas not in them to stay
The current of that streame, nor helpe the same;
But liuing in the eie of Action so
Not hindring it, are thought to draw on wo.
68
So much vnhappie doth the mightie stand
That stand on other then their owne defence,
When as distruction is so neare at hand,
That if by weakenes, folly, negligence,
They do not comming miserie withstand
They shall be thought th'authors of the offence,
And to call in that which they kept not out,
And curst as those, that brought those plagues about.
69
And so remaine for euer registred
In that eternall booke of infamie:
When ô how many other causes lead
As well to that, as their iniquitie:
The worst complots oftly close smothered,
And well ment deedes fall out vnluckily:
Whilst the aggrieued stand not t'waigh th'intent
But euer iudge according to th'euent.
70
I say not this t'excuse thy Sinne ô
Queene,
Nor cleare their faults that mightie Actors are:
I cannot but affirme thy pride hath beene
A speciall meanes this commonwealth to marre:
And that thy way ward will was plainly seene
In vaine ambition to presume too farre,
And that by thee the onely way was wrought
The
Duke of
Gloster to his death was brought.
His frer Duke of Gloster.
71
A man though seeming in thy thought to sit
Betweene the light of thy desires and thee,
Yet did his taking thence plainly permit
Others to looke to that they could not see
During his life, nor would aduenture it:
When his remoue quite made that passage free;
So by his fall thinking to stand alone
Hardly could stand at all when he was gone.
72
For this
Duke as
Protector many yeares
Had rul'd the land, during the kings young age:
And now the selfe same charge and title beares
As if he still were in his pupillage:
With such disgrace vnto the Queene appeares
That all incensd with an ambitious rage
She doth conspire to haue him made awaie,
As who the course of her maine will doth staie.
73
Thrust thereinto not onely with her pride
But by her fathers counsell and consent,
That grieu'd likewise that any else beside
Should haue the honor of the gouernment:
And therfore he such deepe aduise applide
As forraine craft and cunning could inuent,
To circumuent an vnsuspecting wight
Before he should discerne of their despight.
74
And manie ready hands shee straight doth find
To aide her deede, of such as could not brooke
The length of one mans office in that kind
That to himselfe th'affaires all wholly tooke:
And ruling all had neuer any minde
T'impart a part with others that would looke
To haue likewise some honor in their hands,
And grieu'd at such ingrossing of commaunds.
75
And had he not had such a greedy loue
Of still continuing of his charge too long,
Enuie had beene vnable to reproue
His acted life without shee did him wrong:
But hauing liu'd so manie yeeres aboue
He grieues now to descend to be lesse strong,
And kils that fame that vertue did beget,
Chose to be held lesse good, then seene lesse great.
76
O could the mighty but giue bounds to pride
And weigh backe fortune ere shee pull them downe,
Contented with inough, with honors satisfide,
Not striuing how to make so much their owne
As to leaue nothing for the rest beside,
Who seeme by their high spreading ouergrowne:
Whilst they themselues remaine in all mens sight
The odious marke of hatred and dispight.
77
Then should not ô so many tragedies
Burthen our knowledge with their bloudy end,
Nor their disgrac'd confounded families
From so hye pride to so low shame descend:
But planted on that ground where safety lies,
Their branches should to eternity extend:
But euer those that ouerlooke so much
Must ouersee themselues; their state is such.
78
Seuere he was, and strictly did obserue
Due forme of Iustice towardes euery wight,
Vnmoueable, and neuer won to swerue
For any cause in what he thought was right:
Wherein although he did so well deserue,
In the licentious yet it bread despight;
So that euen vertue seemes an Actor too
To ruine those fortune prepares to vndoo.
79
Those, thus prouided whom the
Queene wel knew
Hated his might, and glad to inoouate
Vnto so great, and strong a party grew
As easie t'was to ouerthrow his state:
And onely hope of alteration drew
Manie to yeeld that had no cause to hate:
For euen with goodnes men grow discontent
Where states are ripe to fall, and vertue spent.
80
And taking all the rule into her hand
(Vnder the shadowe 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,
Whilst malice scarce durst mutter anything:
When straight the worst of him comes all reueald
Which former feare, or rigor kept conceald.
81
Now is he taxed that he rather sought
His priuate profit then the publique good,
And many things presumptuously had wrought
Other then with our lawes, and customes stood:
As one that would into the land haue brought,
The ciuile forme in cases touching bloud,
And such poore crimes that shewd their spight was sound,
But yet bewraide, their matter wanted ground.
82
Yet seru'd they well the turne, and did effect
That which is easie wrought in such a case,
Where what suborned
Iustice shall obiect
Is to the purpose, and must passe with grace:
And what the wretched bring of no effect
Whose hainous faults his matter must deface:
For where powre hath decreed to find th' oftence
The cause is better still then the defence.
83
A
Parlament at Berry summoned
Dispatcht the deed more speedily then well,
For thither came the
Duke without all dread
Or ought imagining of what befell:
Where as the matter is so followed
That he conuented is ere he could tell
He was in danger or had done offence,
And presently to prison sent from thence.
84
Which quicke, and sodaine action gaue no time
For men to weigh the iustice of the deed,
Whilst looking only on the vrged crime
Vnto the farther drift they take no heed:
For these occasions taken in the prime
Of courses new, that old dislikes succeed,
Leaue not behind that feeling touch of wrong,
Sacietie makes passions still lesse strong.
85
And yet they seem'd some mutiny to doubt
For thus proceeding with a man of might,
Seeing he was most popular and stout
And resolute would stand vpon his right:
And therefore did they cast this way about
To haue him closely murdred out of sight,
That so his trouble, and his death hereby
Might come togither and togither dye.
86
Reekning it better since his end is ment
And must be wrought, at once to rid it cleere
And put it to the fortune of th'euent,
Then by long doing to be long in feare:
When in such courses of high punishment
The deed and the attempt like daunger beare;
And oft things done perhaps doe lesse anoy
Then may the doing handled with delay.
87
And so they had it straight accomplished,
For that day after his committing he
Is dead brought foorth being found so in his bed.
Which was by sodaine sicknes said to bee
That had vpon his sorrowes gathered,
As by apparant to kens men might see:
And thus ô
Sicknes thou art oft belide,
When death hath many waies to come beside.
88
Are these the deedes hye forraine wits inuent?
Is this that wisedome whereof they so boast?
O then I would it neuer had beene spent
Here amongst vs, nor brought from out their coast!
O let their cunning in their limits pent
Remaine amongst themselues that like it most!
And let the
North they count of colder bloud
Beheld more grosse, so it remaine more good.
89
Let them haue fairer citties, goodlier soiles,
And sweeter fields for beautie to theeie,
So long as they haue these vngodly wiles,
Such detestable vile impietie:
And let vs want their vines, their fruites the whiles,
So that we want not faith and honestie,
We care not for those pleasures, so we may
Haue better harts, and stronger hands then they.
90
Neptune keepe out from thy imbraced Ile
This foule contagion of iniquitie;
Drowne all corruptions comming to defile
Our faire proceedings ordred formally;
Keepe vs mere
English, let not craft beguile
Honor and Iustice with strang subtiltie:
Let vs not thinke, that that our good can frame,
Which ruinde hath the Authors of the same.
91
But by this impious meanes that worthy man
Is brought vnto this lamentable end,
And now that current with maine fury ran
(The stop remou'd that did the course defend)
Vnto the full of mischiefe that began
T'a vniuersall ruine to extend,
That
Isthmus failing which the land did keepe
From the intire possession of the deepe.
92
And now the king alone all open lay,
No vnderprop of bloud to stay him by,
None but himselfe standes weakely in the way
Twixt
Yorke and the affected sou'raignty:
Gone is that barre that would haue beene the stay
T'haue kept him backe from mounting vp so hie.
But ô in what a state stand these men in
That cannot liue without, nor with their kin?
93
The
Queene hath yet by this her full desire
And now she with her minion
Suffolke raignes,
Now shee hath all authority intire,
And all affaires vnto her selfe retaines:
And only
Suffolke is aduanced hyre,
He is the man rewarded for his paines:
He that did her insteed most chiefly stand,
And more aduanc'd her, then he did the land.
94
Which when they saw who better did expect,
Then they beganne their error to descry,
And well perceiue that only the defect
Was in their iudgements, passion-drawne awry:
Found, formall rigour fitter to direct
Then pride and insolent inconstancie;
Better seuerity that's right and iust
Then impotent affections led with lust.
95
And there upon in sorrow thus complaine:
O what great inconuenience do they feele,
Where as such imbecility doth raigne
As so neglectes the care of common weale?
Where euer one or other doth obtaine
So high a grace thus absolute to deale:
The whilst th'aggreieued subiect suffers still
The pride of some predominating will.
96
And euer one remou'd, a worse succeedes;
So that the best that we can hope is warre,
Tumults and stirres, that this disliking breedes,
The sword must mend, what insolence doth marre:
For what rebellions, and what bloudy deedes
Haue euer followed where such courses are?
What oft remoues, what death of counsailers,
What murder, what exile of officers?
97
Witnes the
Spencers, Gaueston and
Vere
The mighty minions of our feeblest kings;
Who euer subiects to their subiects were,
And only the procurers of these things:
When worthy
Monarches that hold honor deare
Maister themselues, and theirs; which euer brings
That vniuersall reuerence, and respect:
For who waighes him that doth himselfe neglect?
98
And yet our case is like to be farre worse
Hauing a king though not so bent to ill,
Yet so neglecting good, that giuing force
By giuing leaue doth all good order kill:
Suffring a violent woman take her course
To manage all according to her will,
Which how she doth begin, her deeds expresse,
And what will be the end, our selues may gesse.
99
Thus well they deem'd what after followed
When now the shamefull losse of
Fraunce much
Which vnto
Suffolke is attributed
As who in all mens sight most hatefull liues: grieues,
He with the enemy consedered
Betraies the state, and secret knowledge giues
Articles obiected against de la Poole Duke of Suffolke.
Of all our strength; that all which we did hold
By his corruption is or lost or sold.
100
And as he deales abroad, so likewise here
He robs at home, the treasurie no lesse
Here, where he all authorities doth beare
And makes a
Monopoly of offices:
He is inricht, h'is raisd, and placed neere
And only he giues counsaile to oppresse:
Thus men obiect, whilst many vp in armes
Offer to be reuenged of these harmes.
101
The
Queene perceiuing in what case shee stood,
To loose her minion or ingage her state;
(After with long contention in her bloud
Loue and ambition did the cause debate)
Shee yeeldes to pride, and rather thought it good
To sacrifice her loue vnto their hate,
Then to aduenture else the losse of all
Which by maintaining him was like to fall.
102
Yet seeking at the first to temporize,
She tries if that some short imprisonment
would calme their heat: when that would not suffize,
Then to exile him shee must needes consent:
Hoping that time would salue it in such wise
As yet at length they might become content,
And shee againe might haue him home at last,
When the first fury of this rage was past.
103
But as he to his iudged exile went,
Hard on the shore he comes incountered
By some, that so far off his honor sent,
As put his backe-returne quite out of dread:
For there he had his rightfull punishment
Though wrongly done, and there he lost his head,
Part of his bloud hath
Neptune, part the sand,
As who had mischiefe wrought by sea and land.
104
Whose death when swift-wingd fame at full conuaid
Vnto the trauaild
Queen misdoubting nought,
Despight and sorrow such affliction laid
Vpon her soule as wondrous passions wrought:
O God (saith she) and art thou thus betraid?
And haue my fauours thy destruction brought?
Is this their gaine whom highnes fauoureth,
Who chiefe preferd, stand as preferd to death?
105
O fatall grace without which men complaine
And with it perish, what preuailes that we
Thus beare the title of a soueraigne,
And suffred not to be that which we be?
O must our subiects limit and constraine
Our sauors where as they themselues decree?
Must we our loue at their appointment place?
Do we commaund, and they direct our grace?
106
O will they then our powre, and will deuide?
And haue we might, but must not vse our might?
Poore maiestie that other men must guide
Whose discontent can neuer looke aright:
For euermore we see those that abide
Gracious in ours, are odious in their sight,
Who would all-maistring maiesty defeat
Of her best grace, that is to make men great.
107
Decre
Suffolke, ô I saw thy wofull cheere
When thou perceiu'dst no helpe but to depart:
I saw that looke wherein did plaine appeare
The lamentable message of thy heart:
That seemd to say: O
Queene, and canst thou beare
My ruine so? the cause whereof thou art:
Canst thou indure to see them worke their will
And not defend me from the hand of ill?
108
Haue I for thee aduentured so much,
Made ship wracke of my honor, faith and fame?
And doth my seruice giue no deeper touch
To thy hard heart better to feele the same?
Or dost thou feare, or is thy weakenes such
As not of force to keepe me from this shame?
Or else now hauing seru'd thy turne of me,
Art well-content my ouerthrow to see?
109
As if my sight did read vnto thy minde
The lecture of that shame thou wouldst forget,
And therefore peraduenture glad to finde
So fit occasion dost it forward set:
Or else thy selfe from dangerous toile t'vnwinde
Downe on my necke dost all the burthen let;
Since kings must haue some hated worse then they,
On whom they may the waight of enuy lay.
114
No
Suffolke, none of this, my soule is cleere;
Without the thought of such impiety:
Yet must I needes confesse that too much feare
Made me defend thee lesse couragiously:
Seeing more Princes euer ruind were
By their immoderate fauoring priuately
Then by seueritie in generall,
For best h'is lik't, that is alike to all.
111
Thus in her passion lo shee vttered,
When as far greater tumults now burst out,
Which close and cunningly were practised
By such as sought great hopes to bring about:
For vp in armes in
Kent were gathered
A mighty insolent rebellious rout
Vnder a daungerous head; who to deter
The state the more, himselfe nam'd
Mortimer.
112
The
Duke of
Yorke that did not idle stand
But seekes to worke on all aduantages,
Had likewise in this course a secret hand,
And hartned on their chiefe accomplices,
To try how that the people of the land
Would (if occasion seru'd) b' in readines.
To aide that line if one should come indeed
To moue his right, and in due course proceed.
113
Knowing himselfe to be the onely one
That must attempt the thing if any should,
And therefore lets the Rebel now runne on
With that false name t' effect the best he could
To make a way for him to worke vpon,
That but on certaine ground aduenture would:
For if the traitor sped, the gaine were his;
If not, yet he standes safe, and blamelesis.
114
T' attempt with others dangers, not his owne,
He countes it wisedome if it could be wrought:
And t'haue the honor of the people knowne
Was now that which was chiefly to be sought:
For with the best he knew himselfe was growne
In that account, as made him take no thought,
Hauing obseru'd in those he ment to proue
Their wit, their wealth, their cariage, and their loue.
115
With whom and with his owne alliances
He first begins to open in some wise
The right he had, yet with such doubtfulnes,
As rather sorrow then his drift descries:
Complaining of his countries wretchednes
In what a miserable case it lies,
And how much it importes them to prouide
For their defence against this womans pride.
116
Then with the discontented he doth deale
In sounding theirs, not vttering his intent,
As being sure not so much to reueale
Where by they might be made againe content:
But when they grieued for the common weale
He doth perswade them to be patient,
And to indure there was no other course,
Yet so perswades as makes their malice worse.
117
And then with such as with the time did run
He doth in most vpright opinion stand,
As one that neuer crost what they begun,
But seem'd to like what stil they tooke in hand:
Seeking all causes of offence to shun,
Praises the rule, and blames th' vnrulie land:
Workes so with giftes, and kindlie offices
That euen of them he serues his turne no lesse.
118
Then as for those that were his followers
Being all choice men for vertues or desarts,
He so with grace, and benefits prefers,
That he becomes the monarch of their harts:
He drawes the learned for his Counsailers
And cherishes all men of rarest partes,
To whom good done doth an impression strike
Of ioic and loue in all that are alike.
119
And now by meanes of th'intermitted warre
Manie most valiant men impou'rished,
Onely by him fed and relieued are,
Onely respected, grac'd and honoured:
Which let him in, vnto their hearts so farre,
As they by him were wholy to be led:
He onely treades the sure and perfect path
To greatnes who loue and opinion hath.
120
And to haue one some certaine prouince his
As the maine body that must worke the feate,
Yorkeshire he chose, the place wherein he is
By title, liuings, and possessions great:
No country he preferres so much as this,
Here hath his bountie her abiding seat,
Here is his Iustice and relieuing hand
Ready to all that in destresse do stand.
121
What with his tenants, seruants, followers, friends,
And their alliances, and amities,
All that
Shire vniuersally attendes
His hand held vp to any enterprize:
And thus farre vertue with her power extendes,
The rest touching th' euent in fortune lies.
With which accomplement so mighty growne
Forward he tendes with hope t' attaine a crowne.
The end of the fourth booke.
The fift Booke of the Ciuill warres betweene the two Houses of Lancaster and Yorke.
THE ARGVMENT.
The bad successe of
Cades rebellion,
Yorks open practise and conspiracie,
His comming in, and his submission,
Th' effect of Printing and Artillerie,
Burdeux reuolts, craues our protection,
Talbot defending ours, dyes gloriously.
The French Wars end, &
York begins againe,
And at S. Albones
Sommerset is slaine.
1
THE furious trayne of that tumultuous rout,
Whom close subayding powre & good successe,
Had made vnwisely proud, and fondly stout,
Thrust headlong on, oppresion to oppresse:
And now to fulnes growne, boldly giue out
That they the publique wrongs meant to redresse;
Formlesse themselues, reforming doe pretend,
As if confusion could disorder mend.
2
And on they march with theyr false-named head,
Iack Cade.
Of base, and vulgar birth, though noble fayn'd,
Who puft with vaine desires, to London led
His rash abused troupes, with shadowes trayn'd.
When as the King thereof assertained,
Supposing some small power would haue restrain'd
Disordred rage, sends with a simple crew
Syr
Humfry Stafford, whom they ouerthrew.
3
Which so increasd th' opinion of theyr might,
That much it gaue to doe, and much it wrought,
Confirm'd their rage, drew on the vulgar wight,
Calld forth the timerous, fresh pertakers brought;
For many, though most glad theyr wrongs to right,
Yet durst not venture theyr estates for nought:
But see'ing the cause had such aduantage got,
Occasion makes them styr, that els would not.
4
So much he errs, that scornes or els neglects
The small beginnings of arysing broyles,
And censures others, not his owne defects,
And with a selfe conceite himselfe beguiles:
Thinking small force will compasse great effects,
And spares at first to buy more costly toyles:
When true obseruing prouidence in war
Still makes her foes, far stronger then they are.
5
Yet thys good fortune all theyr fortune mard
Which fooles by helping euer doth suppresse:
For warelesse insolence whilst vndebard
Ofbounding awe, runnes on to such excesse,
That following lust, and spoyle, and blood so hard,
Sees not how they procure theyr owne distresse:
The better, lothing courses so impure,
Rather will like theyr wounds, then such a cure.
6
For whilst thys wilde vnrained multitude
(Led with an vnfore-seeing greedy minde
Of an imagin'd good, that did delude
Their ignorance, in theyr desires made blind,)
Ransack the Citty, and with hands imbrude,
Run to all out-rage in th'extreamest kind,
Heaping vp wrath and horror more and more,
Adding fresh guilt, to mischiefes done before.
7
And seeing yet all thys draw to no end
But to theyr owne, no promisd ayde t'appeare,
No such pertakers as they dyd attend,
Nor such successes as imagin'd were:
Good men resolu'd the present to defend
Iustice against them with a brow seuere.
Themselues feard of themselues, tyr'd with excesse,
Found, mischiefe was no sit way to redresse.
8
Like when a greedy Pyrat hard in chace
Pursuing of a rich supposed prize,
Works for the winds, plyes sayles, beares vp a pace,
Out-runnes the clowdes, scoures after her that flyes,
Pryde in his hart, and wealth before his face,
Keepes his hands wrought, & fixed keepes his eyes,
So long, till that ingag'd within some straight
He falls amid his foes layd close in wayt:
9
Where all too late discouering round about
Danger and death the purchase of his hast;
And no back flying, no way to get out,
But there to perrish, or to yeeld disgrast,
Cursing his error, yet in th'error stout:
Hee toyles for life, now charges, now is chast:
Then quailes, and then fresh courage takes againe,
Striuing t'vnwind himselfe, but all in vaine.
10
So stands thys rout in desperat comberment,
Enuirond round with horror, blood, and shame:
Crost of theyr course, dispayring of th'euent
When pardon, that smooth bayt of basenes came:
Pardon, (the snare to catch the impotent)
Beeing once pronounc'd, they straight embrace the same,
And as huge snowy Mountaines melt with heat,
So they dissolu'd with hope, and home they get.
11
Leauing their Captaine to discharge alone
The shott of blood consumed in theyr heat:
Too small a sacrifice for mischiefes done
Was one mans breath, which thousands dyd defeat.
Vnrighteous Death, why art thou but all one
Vnto the small offender and the great?
Why art thou not more then thou art, to those
That thousands spoyle, and thousands liues doe lose:
12
Thys fury passing with so quick an end,
Disclosd not those, that on th'aduantage lay,
Who seeing the course to such disorder tend,
With-drew theyr foote, asham'd to take that way;
Or els preuented whilst they dyd attend
Some mightier force, or for occasion stay,
But what they meant, ill fortune must not tell,
Mischiefe be'ing oft made good by speeding well.
13
Put by from thys, the Duke of
Yorke dissignes
Another course to bring his hopes about:
And with those frends affinity combines
In surest bonds, his thoughts he poureth out,
And closely feeles, and closely vndermines
The fayth of whom he had both hope and doubt:
Meaning in more apparant open course
To try his right, his fortune, and his force.
14
Loue and aliance had most firmly ioynd
Vnto his part, that mighty family
The fayre discended stock of
Neuiles kind,
Great by theyr many issued progeny;
But greater by theyr worth, that cleerely shind
And gaue faire light to theyr nobilitie:
A mightie partie for a mighty cause
By theyr vnited amitie hee drawes.
15
For as the spreading members of proud
Po,
That thousand-branched
Po, whose limmes embrace
Thy fertile and delicious body so
Sweet
Lombardie, and beautifies thy face:
Such seemd this powreful stock; frō whence did grow
So many great discents, spreading theyr race
That euery corner of the Land became,
Enricht with some great
Heroes of that name.
16
But greatest in renowne doth
VVarwick sit,
That great King-maker
VVarwick, so far growne
In grace with Fortune, that he gouerns it,
And Monarchs makes, and made, againe puts downe;
What reuolutions his first mouing wit
Heere brought about, are more then too well known;
That fatall kindle-fire of those hote dayes,
Whose worth I may, whose worke I cannot prayse.
17
With him, with
Richard Earle of Salisbury,
Courtny and
Brooke, his most assured frends,
Hee intimates his minde, and openly,
The present bad proceedings discommends;
Laments the state, the peoples misery,
And that which such a pittyer seldom mends,
Oppression, that sharpe two edged sword
That others wounds, and wounds likewise his Lord.
18
My Lord, sayth he, how things are carryed heere
In thys corrupted state, you plainly see,
What burden our abused shoulders beare
Charg'd with the weight of imbecillitie;
And in what base account all we appeare
That stand without their grace that all must be:
And who they be, and how their course succeeds,
Our shame reports, and time bewrayes theyr deeds.
19
Aniou and
Maine, (O maine that foule appeares,
Eternall scarre of our dismembred Land)
And,
Guien's lost, that did three hundred yeeres
Remaine subiected vnder our commaund.
From whence, me thinks, there sounds vnto our eares
The voyce of those deere ghosts, whose liuing hand
Got it with sweat, and kept it with theyr blood,
To doe vs, thankles vs, theyr of-spring good.
20
And seeme to cry; O how can you behold
Their hatefull feet vpon our graues should tread?
Your Fathers graues, who gloriously dyd hold
That which your shame hath left recouered.
Redeeme our Tombes, O spirits too too cold,
Pull backe these Towres our Armes haue honored:
These Towres are yours, these Forts we built for you,
These walls doe beare our names, and are your due.
21
Thus well they may obrayd our rechlesnes,
Whilst we, as if at league with infamie,
Ryot away for nought, whole Prouinces;
Giue vp as nothing worth all
Normandy,
Traffique strong holds, sell Fortresses,
So long, that nought is left but misery:
Poore
Callice, and these water-walls about,
That basely pownds vs in, from breaking out.
22
And which is worse, I feare we shall in th' end
Throwne from the glory of inuading war,
Be forst our propper limmits to defend,
Where euer, men are not the same they are
Where hope of conquest doth theyr spyrits extend
Beyond the vsuall powres of valor far:
For more is he that ventureth for more,
Then who fights but for what he had before.
22
Put to your hands therefore to reskew nowe
Th'indangered state, dere Lords, from thys disgrace,
And let vs in our honor, labour how
To brings thys scorned Land in better case:
No doubt but God our action will allow
That knowes my right, and how they rule the place
Whose weakenes calls vp our vnwillingnesse,
As opening euen the doore to our redresse.
24
Though I protest it is not for a Crowne
My soule is moou'd, (yet if it be my right,
I haue no reason to refuse myne owne)
But onely these indignities to right.
And what if God whose iudgements are vnknowne,
Hath me ordaynd the man, that by my might
My Country shall be blest; if so it be,
By helping me, you rayse your selues with me.
25
In those whom zeale and amitie had bred
A fore-impression of the right he had,
These styrring words so much encouraged,
That with desire of innouation mad,
They seem'd to runne before, not to be led,
And to his fire doe quicker fuell ad:
For where such humors are prepard before,
The opening them makes them abound the more.
26
Then counsell take they fitting theyr desire,
(For nought that fits not theyr desire is wayghd)
The Duke is straight aduised to retyre
Into the bounds of Wales to leauy ayde;
Which vnder smooth pretence he doth require
T' amoue such persons as the state betrayd,
And to redresse th'oppression of the land,
The charme which weakenes seldom doth withstand.
27
Ten thousand straight caught with this bait of breth
Are towards greater lookt-for forces led,
Whose power the King by all meanes trauaileth
In theyr arising to haue ruined:
But theyr preuenting head so compasseth,
That all ambushments warilie are fled,
Refusing ought to hazard by the way,
Keeping his greatnes for a greater day.
28
And to the Citty straight directs his course,
(The Citty, seate of Kings, and Kings cheefe grace)
Where finding of his entertainment worse
By far then he expected in that place,
Much disappoynted, drawes from thence his force,
And towards better trust marches a pace;
And downe in Kent (fatall for discontents)
Nere to thy banks fayre Thames doth pitch his Tents.
29
And there intrencht, plants his Artillery,
Artillery th' infernall instrument,
New brought from hell to scourge mortality
With hideous roring, and astonishment:
Engin of horror, fram'd to terrific
And teare the earth, and strongest Towers to rent;
Torment of Thunder, made to mock the skyes,
As more of power in our calamities.
30
O if the fire subtile
Promethius brought
Stolne out of heauen, did so afflict mankind,
That euer since plagu'd wyth a curious thought
Of styrring search, could neuer quiet find;
What hath he done who now by stealth hath got
Lightning and Thunder, both in wondrous kind?
What plague deserues so proude an enterprize?
Tell Muse, and how it came, and in what wise.
31
It was the tyme when fayre
Europa sate
With many goodly Diadems addrest,
And all her parts in florishing estate
Lay beautifull, in order at their rest:
No swelling member vnproportionate
Growne out of forme, sought to disturbe the rest:
The lesse, subsisting by the greaters might,
The greater, by the lesser kept vpright.
32
No noyse of tumult euer wak'd them all,
Onely perhaps some priuatiarrs within
For tytles or for confines might befall,
Which ended soone, made better loue begin;
But no eruption dyd in generall
Breake downe theyr rest with vniuersall sin:
No publique shock dysioynted thys fayre frame,
Tyll
Nemesis from out the Orient came.
33
Fierce
Nemisis, mother of fate and change,
Sword-bearer of th'eternall prouidence,
That had so long with such afflictions strange
Confounded Asias proude magnificence,
And brought foule impious Barbarisme to range
On all the glory of her excellence,
Turnes her sterne looke at last vnto the West,
As greeu'd to see on earth such happy rest.
34
And for
Pandora calleth presently,
(
Pandora, Ioues fayre gift, that first deceiu'd
Poore
Epimetheus imbecillitie,
That thought he had a wondrous boone receiu'd,
By meanes whereof curioius mortalitie
Was of all former quiet quite bereau'd)
To whom being come, deckt with all qualities,
The wrathfull Goddesse breakes out in thys wise:
35
Doost thou not see in what secure estate
Those florishing fayre Westerne parts remaine?
As if they had made couenant with Fate
To be exempted free from others paine:
At one with theyr desires, friends with debate,
In peace with pride, content with theyr owne gaine,
Their bounds cōtaine their minds, their minds applide
To haue their bounds with plentie beautified.
36
Deuotion, (mother of
Obedience,)
Beares such a hand on theyr credulity,
That it abates the spirit of eminence,
And busies them wyth humble pietie:
For see what works, what infinite expence,
What monuments of zeale they edifie,
As if they would, if that no stop were found,
Fill all with Temples, make all holy ground.
37
But we must coole thys all-beleeuing zeale,
That hath enioyd so fayre a turne so long,
And other reuolutions must reueale,
Other desires, other designes among:
Dislike of thys, first by degrees shall steale
Vpon the soules of men perswaded wrong,
And th'abus'd power that such a power hath got,
Shall giue herselfe the sword to cut her throat.
38
Goe thou therefore with all thy styrring trayne
Of swelling sciences, (the gyfts of greefe)
Goe loose the lynks of that soule-binding chayne,
Inlarge thys vninquisitiue beleefe;
Call vp mens spirits, whom darknes doth detaine,
Enter theyr harts, and Knowledge make the theefe
To open all the doores to let in light,
That all, may all things see, but what is right.
39
Opinion Arme against opinion growne,
Make new-borne contradiction still so rise
As if Thebes-founder
Cadmus tongues had sowne
In stead of teeth, for greater mutinies.
Bring lyke defended fayth against fayth knowne,
Weary the soule with contrarieties:
Till all Religion become retrograde,
And that fayre tyre, the maske of sin be made.
40
And better to effect a speedy end,
Let there be found two fatall instruments,
The one to publish, th' other to defend
Impious contention, and proud discontents:
Make that instamped Characters may send
Abroad to thousands, thousand mens intents,
And in a moment, may dispatch much more
Then could a world of pennes performe before.
41
Whereby all quarrels, tytles, secrecies,
May vnto all be presently made knowne,
Factions prepard, parties allur'd to rise,
Sedition vnder fayre pretentions sowne;
Whereby the vulgar may become so wise,
That with a selfe presumption ouer-growne
Hee may of deepest misteries debate,
Controule his betters, censure acts of state.
42
And then, when this dispersed mischiefe shall
Haue brought confusion in each misterie,
Calld vp contempt of all states generall,
Ripened the humor of impietie,
Then haue they th' other Engin, where-with-all
They may torment theyr selfe-wrought misery,
And scourge each other, in the strangest wise
As tyme or Tyrants neuer could deuise.
43
For by this stratagem they shall confound
All th' ancient forme and discipline of war:
Alter theyr camps, alter theyr fights, theyr ground,
Daunt mighty spirits, prowesse and manhood mar;
For basest cowards from a far shall wound
The most couragious, forst to fight a far;
Valor rapt vp in smoake, as in the night,
Shall perrish without witnes, without sight.
44
But first, before thys generall disease
Breake forth into so great extreamity,
Prepare it by degrees; first kill thys ease,
Spoyle thys proportion, mar thys harmony
Make greater States vpon the lesser seaze,
Ioyne many kingdoms to one soueraignty,
Rayse a few great, that may with greater power
Slaughter each other, and mankind deuoure.
45
And first begin with factions, to deuide
The fayrest land, that from her thrusts the rest,
As if shee car'd not for the world beside,
A world within her selfe, with wonders blest;
Rayse such a strife as tyme shall not decide,
Till the dere blood of most of all her best
Be poured forth, and all her people tost
With vnkind tumults, and almost all lost.
46
Let her be made the sable Stage whereon
Shall first be acted bloody Tragedies:
That all the neighbour States gazing there on,
May make their profit by her miseries.
And those whom shee before had march'd vpon,
(Hauing by this both tyme and meane to rise)
Made martiall by her Armes, shall grow so great,
As saue theyr owne. no force shall them defeat.
47
That when theyr power vnable to sustaine
And beare it selfe, vpon it selfe shall fall,
Shee may (recouered of her wounds againe)
Sit and behold theyr parts as tragicall:
For there must come a tyme that shall obtaine
Truce for distresse. When make-peace
Hymen shall
Bring the conioyned aduers powers to bed,
And set the Crowne made one, vpon one head.
48
Out of which blessed vnion shall arise
A sacred branch, with grace and glory blest,
Whose vertue shall her Land so patronize,
As all our power shall not her dayes molest:
For shee, sayre shee, the Minion of the skyes,
Shall purchase of the highe'st to hers such rest,
(Standing betweene the wrath of heauen and them)
As no distresse shall touch her Diadem.
49
Though thou shalt seeke by all the means thou may,
And Arme impiety and hell and all;
Styrre vp her owne, make others to assay,
Bring sayth disguisd, the power of
Pluto call,
Call all thy orafts to practise her decay,
And yet shall thys take no effect at all:
For shee secure, (as intimate with Fate)
Shall sit and scorne those base dissignes of hate.
50
And from the Rocks of safety shall discry
The wondrous wracks that wrath layes ruined,
All round about her, blood and misery,
Powers betrayd, Princes slaine, Kings massacred,
States all-confusd, brought to calamitie,
And all the face of kingdoms altered.
Yet she the same inuiolable stands,
Deere to her owne, wonder to other Lands.
51
But let not her defence discourage thee,
For neuer none but shee, shall haue thys 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
Stopt of thy course, reckon it no disgrace;
Sith shee alone (being priuiledg'd from hie)
Hath thys large Patent of eternite.
52
This charge the Goddesse gaue, when ready straight
The subtill messenger accompayned
With all her crew of crafts that on her wayt,
Hastes to effect what shee was counsailed:
And out shee pours of her mimens conceit,
Vpon such searching spirits as trauailed
In penetrating hidden secrecies,
Who soone these meanes of misery deuise.
53
And boldly breaking with rebellious minde
Into theyr mothers close-lockt Treasury,
They mineralls combustible doe finde,
Which in stopt concaues placed cunningly
They fire, and fire imprisoned against kind,
Teares out away, thrusts out his enemy,
Barking with such a horror, as if wroth
With man, that wrongs himselfe and nature both.
54
And this beginning had this cursed frame,
Which
Yorke hath now planted against his King,
Presuming by his power, and by the same,
His purpose vnto good effect to bring;
When diuers of the grauest Counsell came
Sent from the King, to vnderstand what thing
Had thrust him into these proceedings bad,
And what he sought, and what intent he had.
55
Who with words mildly-sharp, gently-seuere,
Wrought on those wounds that must bee toucht with heed,
Applying rather salues of hope then feare,
Least corasiues should desperat mischiefes breed.
And what my Lord, sayd they, should moue you here
In thys vnseemely manner to proceed,
Whose worth being such, as all the Land admires,
Hath sayrer wayes then these to your desires?
56
Will you whose meanes, whose many friends, whose grace,
Can work the world in peace vnto your wil,
Take such a course as shall your blood deface,
And make by handling bad, a good cause ill?
How many harts hazard you in thys case,
That in all quiet plots would ayde you still,
Hauing in Court a Partie far more strong,
(Then you conceiue) prest to redresse your wrong.
57
Fy, fy, forsake thys hatefull course, my Lord,
Downe with these Armes that will but wound your cause
What peace may do, hazard not with the sword,
Fly from the force that from your force with-drawes,
And yeeld, and we will mediat such accord
As shall dispence with rigor and the lawes:
And interpose thys solemne fayth of our
Betwixt your fault, and the offended power.
58
Which ingins of protests, and proffers kinde,
Vrg'd out of seeming greese, and shewes of loue,
So shooke the whole foundation of his minde,
As it dyd all his resolution moue:
And present seem'd vnto theyr course inclind,
So that the King would
Sommerset remoue;
The man whose most intollerable pride,
Trode downe his worth, and all good mens beside.
59
Which they there vow'd should presently be done;
For what will not pence-louers willing grant
Where dangerous euents depend thereon,
And men vnfurnisht, 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, tho' against his dignity,
Better discend, then end in maiestie.
60
And here-vpon the Duke dissolues his force,
Submits him to the King, on publique vow.
The rather to, presuming on thys course
For that his sonne the Earle of
March was now
With mightier powers abroad, which would enforce
His peace, which els the King would not allow.
For seeing not all of him in him he hath,
His death would but gyue life to greater wrath.
61
Yet comming to the King, in former place
Hys foe, the Duke of
Sommerset he finds,
Whom openly reproching to hys face,
Hee charg'd with treason in the highest kinds.
The Duke returnes lyke speeches of dysgrace,
And fiery words bewrayd theyr flaming minds:
But yet the tryall was for them deferd
Till fitter tyme allow'd it to be heard.
62
At Westminster a Counsell gathered
Deliberats what course the cause should end
Of th'apprehended Duke of
Yorke, whose head
Doth now on others doubtfull breath depend;
Law fiercely vrgd his deed, and found him dead,
Frends fayld to speake where they could not defend:
Onely the King himselfe for mercy stood,
As prodigall of lyse, nyggard of blood.
63
And as if angry with the Lawes of death,
And why should you, sayd he, vrge things so far?
You, that invr'd with mercinary breath,
And hyred tongue so peremptory are?
Brauing on him whom sorrow prostrateth,
As if you dyd with poore affliction war,
And pray on frailty folly hath betrayd,
Bringing the lawes to wound, neuer to ayd.
64
Dispence sometyme with sterne seueritie,
Make not the lawes still traps to apprehend,
Win grace vpon the bad with clemencie,
Mercy may mend whom malice made offend:
Death giues no thanks, but checks authority,
And lyfe doth onely maiestie commend.
Reuenge dyes not, rigor begets new wrath,
And blood hath neuer glory, mercy hath.
65
And for my part, (and my part should be chiefe)
I am most willing to restore his state;
And rather had I win him with reliefe
Then loose him with despight, and get more hate:
Pitty drawes loue, bloodshed as natures griefe,
Compassion, followes the vnfortunate.
And loosing him, in him I loose my power,
We rule who liue, the dead are none of our.
66
And should our rigor lessen then the same
Which we with greater glory should retaine?
No, let hym lyue, his lyfe must giue vs fame,
The chyld of mercy, newly borne againe:
As often burials is Phisitions shame,
So, many deaths, argues a Kings hard raigne.
Why should we say, the law must haue her vigor?
The law kills him, but quits not vs of rigor.
67
You, to get more preferment by your wit,
Others, to gaine the spoyles of misery,
Labour with all your power to follow it,
Shewing vs feares, to draw on cruelty.
You vrge th'offence, not tell vs what is fit,
Abusing wrong-informed maiestic:
As if our power, were onely but to slay,
And that to sane, were a most dangerous way.
68
Thus out of pitty spake that holy King,
Whom mylde affections led to hope the best.
When
Sommerset began to vrge the thing
With words of hotter temper, thys exprest:
Deare soueraigne Lord, the cause in managing
Is more then yours, t' imports the publique rest,
We all haue part, it touches all our good,
And lyfe's ill spard, that's spar'd to cost more blood.
69
Compassion here is cruolty, my Lord,
Pitty will cut our throats for sauing so.
What benefit shall we haue by the sword
If mischiefe shall escape to draw on mo?
Why should we gyue what Law cannot afford
To 'be' accessaries to our proper wo?
Wisdom must iudge twixt men apt to amend
And minds incurable, borne to offend.
70
It is no priuat cause (I doe protest)
That moues me thus to prosecute his deede,
Would God his blood and myne had well releast
The dangers that his pryde is lyke to breed:
Although at me, he seemes to haue addrest
His spight, tis not his end he hath decreed:
I am not he alone, hee doth pursue
But thorow me, he meanes to shoote at you.
71
For this course euer they deliberate
Which doe aspyre to reach the gouernment,
To take aduantage of the peoples hate,
Which euer hate those that are eminent:
For who can manage great affayres of state,
And all a wayward multitude content?
And then these people-minions they must fall
To worke out vs, to worke themselues int'all.
72
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 seeme to stand
Before your right, and doth a right pretend;
Who (Traytor-like) hath raysd a mighty band
With coullor your proceedings to amend:
Which if it should haue hapned to succeed,
You had not now fate to adiudge hys deed.
73
If oftentimes the person not th' offence
Haue beene sufficient cause of death to some,
Where publique safety puts in euidence
Of mischiefe, likely by theyr lyfe to come;
Shall he, whose fortune and his insolence
Haue both deseru' d to dye, escape that doome?
When you shall saue your Land, your Crowne therby,
And since you cannot lyue vnlesse he dye?
74
Thys spake th' agreeued Duke, that grauely saw
Th' incompatible powers of Princes minds;
And what affliction his escape might draw
Vnto the state, and people of all kinds.
And yet the humble yeelding and the aw
Which
Yorke there shew'd, so good opinion finds,
That, with the rumor of his sonnes great strength
And French affayres, he there came quit at length.
75
For euen the feare t' exasperat the heat
Of th' Earle of
March, whose forward youth & might
Well followd, seem'd a proude reuenge to threat
If any shame should on his Father light:
And then desire in
Gascoyne to reget
The glory lost, which home-broyles hinder might,
Aduauntaged the Duke, and sau'd his head,
Which question lesse had els been hazarded.
76
For now had
Burdeux offered vpon ayd
Present reuolt, if we would send with speed.
Which fayre aduantage to haue then delayd
Vpon such hopes, had been a shamefull deed:
And therfore this, all other courses stayd,
And outwardly these inward hates agreed:
Giuing an interpause to pride and spight,
Which breath'd but to break out with greater might.
77
Whilst dreadfull
Talbot terror late of Fraunce
(Against the
Genius of our fortune) stroue
The down-throwne glory of our state t'aduaunce;
Where Fraunce far more then Fraunce hee now doth proue.
For frends, opinion, & succeeding chaunce,
Which wrought the weak to yeld, the strong to loue,
Were not the same, as he had found before
In happyer tymes, when lesse would haue done more.
78
For both the
Britayne and
Burgonian now
The Dukes of Britany and Burgundio.
Came altred with our luck, & won with theirs
Those bridges and the gates that dyd allow
So easie passage vnto our affayres.
Iudging it safer to endeuour how
To linke with strength, then leane vnto dispayres;
And who wants frends, to back what he begins
In Lands far of, gets not, although he wins.
79
Which too well prou'd thys fatall enterprize,
The last that lost vs all we had to lose:
Where, though aduantag'd by some mutenies,
And petty Lords that in our cause arose,
Yet those great fayld; whose ready quick supplyes
Euer at hand, cheerd vs, and quaild our foes:
Succours from far, come seldom to our mind,
For who holds league with
Neptune, or the wind?
80
Yet worthy
Talbot, thou didst so imploy
The broken remnants of discattered power,
That they might see it was our destiny
Not want of spirit that lost vs what was our:
Thy dying hand sold them the victory
With so deere wounds as made the conquest sowre:
So much it cost to spoyle who were vndon,
And such a doe to win, when they had won.
81
For as a fierce couragious mastiue fares
That hauing once sure fastned on his foe,
Lyes tugging on that hold, neuer forbeares
What force soeuer force hym to forgoe;
The more he feeles his wounds, the more he dares,
As if his death were sweet in dying so;
So held his hold thys Lord, whilst he held breath,
And scarce but with much blood lets goe in death.
82
For though he saw prepard against his side
Both vnlike fortune, and vnequall force,
Borne with the swelling current of theyr pryde
Downe the mayne streame of a most happy course:
Yet stands he stiffe vndasht, vnterrified,
His minde the same, although his fortune worse;
Vertue in greatest dangers being best showne,
And though opprest, yet neuer ouerthrowne.
83
For reskuing of besieg'd
Chatillion
Where hauing first constraind the French to flye,
And following hard on theyr confusion,
Comes loe incountred with a strong supply
Of fresh-ariuing powers, that back thrust on
Those flying troupes, another chaunce to try;
Who double Arm'd, with shame, and fury, straine
To wreake their foyle, and win theyr fame againe.
84
Which seeing, th' vndaūted
Talbot with more might
Of spirit to will, then hands of power to doe:
Preparing t'entertaine a glorious fight,
Cheeres vp his wearied souldiers thereunto:
Courage, sayth he, those brauing troupes in sight
Are but the same that now you dyd vndoe.
And what if there be come some more then they?
They come to bring more glory to the day.
85
Which day must eyther thrust vs out of all,
Or all with greater glory back restore.
Thys day your valiant worth aduenture shall
For what our Land shall neuer fight for, more:
If now we faile, with vs is like to fall
All that renowne which we haue got before:
Thys is the last, if we discharge the same,
The same shall last to our eternall fame.
86
Neuer had worthy men for any fact
A more fayre glorious Theater then we:
VVhereon true magnanimity might act
Braue deeds, which better witnessed could be.
For loe, from yonder Turrets yet vnsackt,
Your valiant fellowes stand your worth to see,
T'auouch your valour, if you liue, to gaine,
And if we die, that we dyde not in vaine.
87
And euen our foes, whose proud & powrefull might
VVould seeme to swallow vp our dignitie,
Shall not keepe backe the glory of our right
Which theyr confounded blood shall testifie:
For in theyr wounds our gored swords shall write
The monuments of our eternitie:
For vile is honor and a tytle vayne
The which true worth, and danger doe not gayne.
88
For they shall see when we in carelesse sort
Shall throw our selues on theyr despised speares,
Tis not dispaire that doth vs so transport,
But euen true fortitude, that nothing feares:
Sith we may well retire vs, in some sort,
But shame on him that such a foule thought beares;
For be they more, let Fortune take theyr part,
We'ill tugge her to, and scratch her, ere we part.
89
Thys sayd, a fresh infusd desire of fame,
Enters theyr warmed blood, with such a will
That they deem'd long they were not at the same:
And thogh they march'd, they thought they yet stood still,
And that their lingring foes too slowly came
To ioyne with them, spending much time so ill:
Such force had words fierce humors vp to call,
Sent from the mouth of such a Generall.
90
Who weighing yet his force and theyr desire,
Turnes him about in priuate to his sonne,
The Lo
[...] Lisie.
A worthy sonne, and worthy such a Sire,
Tells him the doubtfull ground they stood vpon,
Aduising him in secrete to retyre;
Seeing his youth but euen now begun,
Would make it vnto him at all no staine,
His death small fame, his flight no shame could gaine.
91
To whom th' agreeued sonne as if dysgrac'd
Ah Father, haue you then selected mee
To be the man, which you would haue displac'd
Out of the role of immortalitie?
What haue I done thys day that hath defac'd
My worth: that my hands worke dispisd should bee?
God shield I should beare home a Cowards name,
I haue liu'd enough, if I can dye with fame.
92
At which the Father toucht with sorrowing-ioy,
Turnes him about, shaking his head, and sayes:
O my deere sonne, worthy a better day
To enter thy first youth in hard assayes.
And now had wrath, impatient of delay
Begun the fight, and farther speeches stayes:
Fury thrusts on, striuing whose sword should be
First warmed in the wounds of th' enemie.
93
Hotely these small, but mighty minded Bands
(As if ambitious now of death) doe straine
Against innumerable armed hands,
And gloriously a wondrous fight maintaine:
Rushing on all what euer strength with-stands,
Whetting theyr wrath on blood and on disdaine;
And so far thrust, that hard 'twere to discry
Whether they more desire to kill, or dye.
94
Franke of theyr owne, greedy of others blood,
No stroke they giue but wounds, no wound but kills;
Neere to theyr hate, close to theyr worke they stood,
Hit where they would, theyr hand obeyes their wills,
Scorning the blow from far that doth no good,
Loathing the crack vnlesse some blood it spills:
No wounds could let out life that wrath held in,
Till others wounds reueng'd dyd first begin.
95
So much true resolution wrought in those
That had made couenant with death before,
That theyr small number scorning so great foes,
Made Fraunce most happy that there were no more
Sith these made doubtfull how Fate would dispose
That weary day, or vnto whom restore
The glory of a conquest deerely bought,
Which scarce the Conqueror, can think worth ought.
96
For as with equall rdge, and equa'll might
Two aduers winds combat with billowes proude
And neyther yeeld: Seas, skyes maintayne like fight,
Waue against waue opposd, and clowd to clowd,
So war both sides with obstinate despight,
With like reuenge, and neyther party bowd:
Fronting each other vvith confounding blowes,
No wound, one sword vnto the other owes.
97
Whilst
Talbot, whose fresh spirit hauing got
A meruailous aduantage of his yeeres.
Carries his vnfelt age as if forgot,
Whirling about where any neede appeares:
His hand, his eye, his wits all present, wrought
The function of the glorious part he beares:
Now vrging here, now cheering there he flyes,
Vnlocks the thickest troupes where most force lyes.
98
In midst of wrath, of wounds, of blood and death,
There is he most whereas he may doe best.
And there the closest ranks he seueroth,
Driues back the stoutest powres that forward prest:
There makes his sword his way, there laboureth
Th'infatigable hands that neuer rest,
Scorning vnto his mortall wounds to yeeld
Till Death became best muister of the field.
99
Then lyke a sturdy Oake that hauing long
Against the warrs of fiercest winds made head,
When with some forst tempestious rage, more strong,
His downe-borne top comes ouer-maistered,
All the neere bordering Trees hee stood among,
Crusht with his waighty fall, lye ruined:
So lay his spoyles, all round about him slayne
T'adorne his death, that could not dye in vaine.
100
On th'other part, his most all-daring sonne
(Although the inexperience of his yeeres
Made him lesse skyld in what was to be done,
Yet dyd it thrust him on beyond all feares)
Flying into the mayne Batallion,
Neere to the King, amidst the chiefest Peeres,
With thousand wounds became at length opprest,
As if he scornd to dye, but with the best.
101
Who thus both hauing gaynd a glorious end,
Soone ended that great day that set so red,
As all the purple playnes that wide extend
A sad tempestious season with essed:
So much a doe had toyling Fraunce to rend
From vs the right so long inherited,
And so hard went we from what we possest,
As with it, went the blood we loued best.
102
Which blood not lost, but fast layd vp with heed
In euerlasting same, is there held deere,
To seale the memory of thys dayes deed,
Th'eternall euidence of what we were:
To which our Fathers, we, and who succeed,
Doe owe a sigh, for that it touch vs neere:
Who must not sinne so much as to neglect
The holy thought of such a deere respect.
103
Yet happy haples day, blest-ill-lost breath,
Both for our better fortune, and your owne:
For what soule wounds, what spoyle, what shamefull death,
Had by this forward resolution growne,
If at S. Albons, Wakefield, Barnet-heath,
It should vnto your in famie be showne?
Blest you, that dyd not teach how great a faute
Euen vertue is in actions that are naught.
104
Yet would thys sad dayes losse, had now been all
That thys day lost, then should we not much playne,
If hereby wee had come but there to fall,
And that day ended, ended had our payne.
Then small the loste of
Fraunce, of
Giuen small,
Nothing the shame to be turnd home againe
Compard with other shames. But now Fraunce lost
Sheds vs more blood then all her winning cost.
105
For loosing war abroad; at home lost peace,
Be'ing with our vnsupporting selues close pent.
And no dissignes for pryde that did increase,
But our owne throats, & our owne punishment.
The working spyrit ceast not tho worke dyd cease,
Hauing fit time to practise dyscontent.
And styrre vp such as could not long lye still,
Who not imployd to good, must needs doe ill.
106
And now the greefe of our receiued shame
Gaue fit occasion for ambitious care,
They draw the chiefe reproch of all the fame
On such as naturally hated are,
Seeing them apt to beare the greatest blame
That offices of greatest enuie beare.
And that in vulgar eares delight it breedes
To haue the hated, Authors of misdeodes.
107
And therefore easily great
Sommerset
VVhom enuie long had singled out before
VVith all the vollie of disgraces met,
As the maine marke Fortune had plac'd therefore:
On whose hard-wrought opinion spight dyd whet
The edge of wrath, to make it pierce the more.
Griefe being glad t'haue gotten now on whom
To lay the fault of what, must light on some.
108
Whereon th'againe out-breaking
Yorke beginnes
To builde new models of his olde desire,
Se'ing the fayre bootie Fortune for him winnes
Vpon the ground of thys enkindled ire.
Taking th'aduantages of others sinnes
To ayde his owne, and helpe him to aspire:
And doubting peace should better scanne deeds past,
Hee thinks not safe, to haue his sword our last.
109
Especially, sith euery man now prest
To innouation doe with rancor swell,
A styrring humor generally possest
Those peace-spylt tymes, weary of beeing well:
The weake with wrongs, the happy tyr'd with rest,
And many mad, for what, they could not tell.
The world euen great with change, thought it vvent wrong
To stay beyond the bearing tyme so long.
110
And therefore now these Lords consedered
Being much increasd in number and in spight,
So shap'd theyr course, that drawing to a head,
Began to grow to be offeare full might;
Th'abused world so hastie gathered,
Some for reuenge, some for wealth, some for delight,
That
Yorke from small-beginning troups soone drawes
A world of men to venture in hys cause.
111
Lyke as proude Seuerne from a priuate head,
With humble streames at first doth gently glyde,
Tyll other Riuers haue contrybuted
The springing riches of theyr store beside,
Wherewith at length high swelling shee doth spread
Her broad discended waters layd so wide,
That comming to the Sea, shee seemes from far
Not to haue trybute brought, but rather war.
112
Euen so is
Yorke now growne, and now is bent
T'incounter with the best, and for the best,
Whose neere approch the King hastes to preuent,
Seeking t'haue had his power, far of supprest:
Fearing the Citty, least some insolent
And mutinous, should harten on the rest
To take his part. But h'is so forward set,
That at S. Albones both the Annies met.
113
Whether theyr hast far fewer hands dyd bring
Then els theyr better leysure would haue done:
And yet too many for so foule a thing
Sith who dyd best, hath but dishonor won:
For whilst some offer peace sent from the King,
VVarwicks too forward hand hath war begun:
A war that doth the face of war deforme
Which still is foule, but soulest wanting forme.
114
Neuer dyd valiant Leaders so well knowne
For braue performed actions done before
Blemish the reputation of renowne
In any weake effected seruice more,
To bring such powres into so straight a Towne
As to some Citty-tumulr or vprore:
Which slaughter, and no battaile might be thought.
Where that side vsd theyr swords, & this theyr throat.
115
But thys on
VVarwicks wrath must needs be layd,
And vpon
Sommersets desire t'obtayne
The day with peace, for which he longer stayd
Then wisdom would, or then was for his gayne:
Whose force in narrow streets once ouer layd,
Neuer recouerd head, but there came slayne
Both he, and all the Leaders els besides:
The King himselfe alone a prisoner bides.
116
A prisoner, though not to the outward eye,
For that he must seeme grac'd with his lost day,
All things be'ing done for his commoditie,
Against such men as dyd the state betray:
For with such apt deceiuing clemencie
And seeming-order,
Yorke dyd so allay
That touch of wrong, as made him make great stealth
In weaker minds, with shew of Common wealth.
117
Long-lookt-for powre thus got into his hand,
The former face of Court now altered,
All the supreamest charges of commaund
Were to his ayders straight contributed:
Himselfe is made Protector of the land.
A tytle found, which onely couered
All-working powre vnder another style,
Which yet the greatest part doth act the whyle.
118
The King held onely but an empty name
Left with his lyfe, where of the proofe was such
As sharpest pryde could not transpers the same,
Nor once, all-seeking Fortune durst to tuch:
Impietie had not inlarged shame
As yet so wide as to attempt so much:
Mischiefe was not full ripe for such a deede,
Left for th' vnbounded horrors that succeed.
The end of the fift Booke.