The Works of Michael Drayton :: :: University of Virginia Library

The grievous Plagues, and the prodigious Signes,
That this great Warre and Slaughter doe fore-show,
The cause which the proud Baronage combines,
The Queenes much wrong, whence many mischiefs grow,
And how the Time to this great Change inclines,
As with what Armes each Countreymen doe goe,
What cause to yeeld, the Mortimers pretend,
And their Commitment, doth this Canto end.

1

The bloudie Factions and Rebellious pride
Of a strong Nation, whose ill-manag'd might
The Prince and Peeres did many a day divide;
With whom, wrong was no wrong, nor right no right,
Whose strife, their Swords knew only to decide,
Spur'd to their high speed, by their equall spight;
Me from soft Layes and tender Loves doth bring,
Of a farre worse, then Civill Warre to sing.

2

What Hellish Furie poys'ned their hot Bloud?
Or can we thinke 'twas in the power of Charmes,
With those so poore hopes of the publike good,
To have intic'd them to tumultuous Armes;
And from that Safetie, wherein late they stood,
Reft them so farre from feeling of their Harmes,
That France and Belgia, with affrighted eyes,
Stood both amazed at their Miseries?

3

Having Relation to the first Barons Warres, in the raigne of Henry the third, for the Great Charter.

Th'inveterate Malice in their Bosomes bred,
Who for their Charter wag'd a former Warre,
Their angrie Syres; in them that Venom fed,
As their true Heires of many a wide-mouth'd Skarre:

Having Relation to their Victories over the Welsh and Scots, under Edward the first.

Or was't the Bloud they had in Conquest shed,
Having inlarg'd their Countries Bounds so farre,
That did themselves against themselves oppose,

A Citie of Spain, from whence wee anciently had our best Swords.

With Blades of Bilbo changing English Blowes?

4

O, Thou the Wise Director of my Muse,

Invocation.

Upon whose Bountie all my Powers depend,
Into my Brest thy sacred'st Fire infuse;
Ravish my Spirit, this Great Worke to attend;
Let the still Night my lab'red Lines peruse;
That when my Poems gaine their wished end,
Such, whose sad eyes shall read this Tragique Storie,
In my weake Hand may see thy Might and Glorie.

5

Narration.

What Care would plot, Dissention strove to crosse,
Which like an Earthquake rent the tottering State;
In Warre abroad they suffered publique Losse,
And were at home despoyl'd by private hate:
Whil'st them those strange Calamities did tosse,
(For there was none that nourisht not Debate)
Confusion did the common Peace confound;
No helpe at hand, yet mortall was their wound.

6

The Prelacie, most powerfull in those times, did rather put on that Warre, then perswade to Peace.

Thou Church, then swelling in thy Mightinesse,
Which in thy Hand so ample Power didst hold,
To stay those Factions, ere their full excesse,
Which at thy pleasure thou might'st have control'd;
Why didst not Thou those Outrages suppresse,
Which to all Times, thy prayse might have enrol'd?
Thou shouldst to them have layd the Holy Word,
And not thy hand to the unholyed Sword.

7

Bloud-thirstie Warre arising first from Hell,

The first Warres of the Barons beginning in the time of King John, and continuing long in the Raigne of Henry the third, his sonne.

And seizing on this chiefe part of the Ile,
Where it before neere fortie yeeres did dwell,
And with abhorr'd Pollution did defile,
In which so many a famous Souldier fell;
By Edward Long-shanks banished awhile,

Edward the first having peace at home, made Warres upon the Welsh and Scots.

Transfer'd to Wales, and to Albania, there
To ruine them, as it had ravin'd here.

8

Where hovering long with inauspicious wings,
About the Verge of these distempered Clymes,
By comming backe, new Mischiefe hither brings,
To worke them up to those disasterous Crymes;
Weakeneth their Power by her diminishings,
And taking fast hold on those wicked Tymes,
So farre inforc'd their Furie, that at length
It crackt the Nerves which knit their ancient strength.

9

Whose frightfull Vision, at the first approach,
With violent Madnesse strooke that desperate Age,
And did not onely those Rebellions broach
Amongst the Commons, but the divellish Rage
Did on the best Nobilitie incroach,
And in their damn'd Conspiracies, ingage
The Royall Bloud; them likewise downe to bring,
By unnaturall Treasons to their naturall King.

10

When in the North (whilst Horror yet was young)

The fearefull Signes in the North of this Land, that fore-ran this Bloudie Warre, expressed in this Stanza, and the next following.

Those dangerous Seasons swiftly comming on,
Whilst o'er their heads portentuous Meteors hung,
And in the Skies sterne Commets brightly shone,
Prodigious Births were intermix'd among,
Such as before to Times had beene unknowne;
In bloudie Issues, forth the Earth doth breake,
Weeping for them, whose Woes it could not speake.

11

And by the rankenesse of contagious Ayre,
A mortall Plague invadeth Man and Beast;
Which farre dispers'd, and raging every where,
In doubt the same too quickly should have ceast,
T'assure them of the Slaughter being neere,
Yet was by Famine cruelly increast;
As though the Heavens, in their remisfull doome,
Tooke those they lov'd, from worser dayes to come.

12

The entrance into the Relation of the Storie.

The levell course that we intend to goe,
Now (to the end) that yee may cleerely see,
And that we every circumstance may show,
The state of Things, and truly what they be,
And our Materialls how we doe bestow,
With each Occurrent right in his degree;
From these Portents we now divert our view,
To bring to passe the Horrors that insue.

13

The first, and the principall cause of Quarrell betweene the King and the Barons.

The calling backe of banish'd Gaveston,
Gainst which, the Barons had to Long-shanks sworne;
The Signiories, and high Promotion,
Him in his Law-lesse Courses to suborne;
Th'abetting of that wanton Minion,
Who held the old Nobilitie in scorne;
Stir'd up that hatefull and outragious Strife,
Which cost so many an English-man his life.

14

Henry Lacy, Earle of Lincolne.

O much-lov'd Lacy, hadst thou spar'd that breath,
Which shortly after Nature thee deny'd,

Thomas Plantaginet Earle of Lancaster, the sonne of Edmond, called Crouch-back, who was the second sonne of Henry the third.

To Lancaster delivered at thy death,
To whom thy only Daughter was affy'd,
Taking for Pledge, his Knightly Oath and Faith,
Stiffely to sticke upon the Barons side;
Thy Manors, Rents, and Titles of Renowne,
Had not so soone beene forfeit to the Crowne.

15

Those Lordships, Bruse to those two Spensers past,

The two Spensers, by the favour of the King, bought the Lands of the Lord Bruse in the Marches of Wales, out of some of the Barons hands; for which, the Barons burnt the Towns there, belonging to the Spensers; and shortly, caused the King to banish them: A second and speciall cause of the Warre.

Crossing the Barons vehement desire,
As from Joves Arme, that fearefull Lightning cast,
That fiftie Townes lay spent in hostile fire;
Alas, too vaine and prodigall a waste,
The strong effect of their conceived Ire:
Urging the weake King, by a violent Hand,
T'abjure those false Lords from the troubled Land.

16

When as the faire Queene progressing in Kent,
Was there deny'd her entrance into Leeds
By Badlesmer, a Baron eminent,

The Lord Badlesmer, Owner of Leeds Castle.

Against the King, that in this Course proceeds,
Which further addeth to their discontent,
A speciall Spring, which this great Mischiefe feeds;
Wrong upon wrong, by heaping more and more,
To thrust on that, which went too fast before.

17

Which more and more King Edwards hate increast,
Whose mind ran still on Gaveston degraded,
The thoughts of which, so settled in his Brest,
That it had all his Faculties invaded:
Which for the Spensers hap'ned out the best,

The pride of the Spensers made the breach betwixt the King and Queene.

By whom, thereto he chiefely was perswaded;
And by whose Counsels he e're long was led
To leave his bright Queene, and to flye her Bed.

18

That shee her selfe, who whilst shee stood in grace,
Imploy'd her Powers these Discords to appease,
When yet Confusion had not fully place,
In Times not growne so dangerous as these,
A Partie made in their afflicted case,
Her willing Hand to his Destruction layes;
That Time, whose soft Palme heals the wound of Warre,
May cure the Sore, but never close the Skarre.

19

The first appearing of Mortimer.

In all that Heat, then gloriously began,
The serious Subject of my solid Vaine,
Brave Mortimer, that some-what more then Man,
Of the old Heroes great and God-like Straine,
For whom, Invention doing all it can,
His weight of Honour hardly shall sustaine,
To beare his Name immortaliz'd, and hye,
When he in Earth un-numbred yeeres shall lye.

20

Roger Mortimer the Unckle, and Roger, the Nephew.

Whose Unckle then (whose Name his Nephew bare)
The only comfort of the wofull Queene,
Who from his Cradle held him as his care,
In whom so many early Hopes were seene,
For this yong Lord most wisely doth prepare,
Whilst yet her deepe heart-goring Wound was greene,
And on this faire advantage firmely wrought,
To place him highly in her Princely thought.

21

The Character of Mortimer, in this Stanza and the next following.

This was the Man, at whose unusuall Birth
The Starres were said, to Councell to retyre,
And in Aspects of Happinesse and Mirth,
Mark'd him a Spirit, to Greatnesse to aspire,
That had no mixture of the Drossie Earth,
But all compact of perfect Heavenly fire;
So well made up, that such a one as He,
Jove in a Man, like Mortimer would be.

22

The quick'ning Vertue of which Nobler part,
With so rare purenesse rectify'd his Bloud,
And to so high a Temper wrought his Heart,
That it could not be lock'd within a Floud,
That no Misfortune possibly could thwart;
Which from the Native Greatnesse where it stood,
Shew'd at the first, the Pitch it was to flie,
Could not with lesse be bounded, then the Skie.

23

Worthy the Grand-child of so great a Lord;

Roger Mortimer Grandfather to this Roger.

Who, whilst our Long-shanks fortunatly raign'd,
Re-edify'd King Arthurs ancient Boord,
Which he at goodly Kenelworth ordain'd,
And to that former Glorie it restor'd,
To which a hundred gallant Knights retain'd,
With all the Pompe that might become a Court,
Or might give Honour to that Martiall Sport.

24

The Heart-swolne Lords, with Furie throughly fir'd,
Whom Edwards Wrongs to Vengeance still provoke,
With Lancaster and Harford had conspir'd,

Thomas Earle of Lancaster, and Bohun Earle of Harford.

No more to beare the Spensers servile Yoke;
The time is come, that they a Change desir'd;
That they (the Bonds of their Allegiance broke)
Resolv'd with Bloud their Libertie to buy,
And in the Quarrell vow'd to live and die.

25

What Priviledge hath our Free-Birth, they say?

The Barons murmure to be over-topt by Minions.

Or in our Bloud, what Vertue doth remaine?
To each lascivious Minion made a prey,
That us and our Nobilitie disdaine,
Whilst they in Triumph boast of our decay;
Either those Spirits we never did retaine,
That were our Fathers, or by Fate we fall
Both from their Greatnesse, Libertie, and all.

26

Our Honor, lifted from that Soveraigne State,
From whence at first it challenged the Being,
And prostitute to Infamie and Hate,
As with it selfe in all things disagreeing,
Quite out of order, dis-proportionate,
From the right way preposterously flying;
Whilst Others are themselves, and only We
Are not held those, We would but seeme to be.

27

Then to what end hath our great Conquest serv'd,
Those Acts atchieved by the Norman Sword,
Our Charters, Patents, and our Deeds reserv'd,
Our Offices and Titles to record,
The Crests that on our Monuments are carv'd,
If they to us no greater good afford?
Thus doe they murmure every one apart,
With many a vex'd Soule, many a grieved Heart.

28

This while the Queene into deepe sorrow throwne,
Wherein she wastes her goodly Youth away,
Beyond beleefe, to all but Heaven unknowne:
This Sparke, till now, that closely covered lay,
By the sharpe breath of desp'rate Faction blowne,
Converts her long Night to a wished Day;
Her wofull Winter of Misfortune chearing,
As the darke World at the bright Sunnes appearing.

29

The Queene is greatly perplexed, whilst things sort not out to her desire.

Though much perplex'd amidst these hard Extremes,
Whilst Helps fall short, that should her Hopes preferre,
Nor clearely yet could she discerne those Beames,
To her desires that else might lighten her,
Her Thoughts oft changing, like deceitfull Dreames,
In her sad Brest such violent Passions stirre;
That (striving which each other should controule)
Worke strange confusion in her troubled Soule.

30

To be debarr'd of that Imperiall State,
Which to her Graces rightly did belong,
Basely rejected, and repudiate,
A vertuous Lady, goodly, faire, and yong;
These with such fervour still doe intimate
Her too-much settled and inveterate wrong;
That to the least, all pardon shee denies,
With Arguments of her Indignities.

31

Whilst, to dispatch, the angry Heavens pursue,
What there, un-judg'd, had many a day depended,
When all these Mischiefes to full ripenesse grew,
And in their Harvest hasting to be ended:
For all these Lines into one Centre drew,
Which way soe're they seem'd to be extended,
And all together, in proportion layd,
Although but small, adde somewhat to her ayd.

32

Now comes the time, when Mortimer doth enter,
Of great Imployment in this Tragique Act,
His Youth and Courage boldly bid him venter,
Prompting him still, how strongly he was backt,
Who at this time, even as from Heaven was sent her,
When the straight Course to her Desire was tract;
And she upon more certaintie doth stay,
In a direct, although a dangerous way.

33

This dreadfull Comet drew her wond'ring Eye,
Which soone began his golden Head to reare,
Whose glorious Fixure in so cleere a Skie,
Strooke the Beholder with a horrid feare;
And in a Region elevate so high,
And by the forme wherein it did appeare,
As the most skilfull wisely did divine,
Fore-shew'd the Kingdome shortly to decline.

34

Yet still recoyling at the Spensers power,
So often checkt with their intemp'rate pride,
Th'inconstant Barons wavering everie houre,
The fierce encounter of this boyst'rous Tide,
That eas'ly might her livelyhood devoure,
Had shee not those that skilfully could guide;
Shee from Suspition cunningly retyres,
Carelesse in shew, of what she most desires.

35

The great Policie of the most wise Queene.

Dissembling so, as one that knew not ill,
So can shee rule the greatnesse of her mind,
As a most perfect Rect'resse of her will,
Above the usuall weakenesse of her kind:
For all these stormes, immoveable and still,
Her secret Drift, the wisest misse to find;
Nor will she know yet, what these Factions meant,
But with a pleas'd Eye soothes sad Discontent.

36

The least Suspition craftily to heale,
Still in her lookes Humilitie she beares;
The safest way with Mightinesse to deale,
So Policie, Religions habit weares;
'Twas then no time her grievance to reveale,
“Hee's mad, which takes a Lyon by the eares.
This knew the Queene, and this well know the wise:
This must they learne, that rightly temporize.

37

Adam Torlton, Bishop of Hereford, a great Politician.

The Bishop Torleton, learned'st of the Land,
Upon a Text of Politiques to preach,
Which he long studying, well did understand,
And by a Method could as aptly teach:
He was a Prelate of a potent hand,
Wise was the Man that went beyond his reach:
This subtill Tutor, Isabel had taught
Points, into which King Edward never sought.

38

When Warre no longer can it selfe containe,
But breaketh forth into a generall flame,
And to be seene more visibly and plaine,
Boldly it selfe dares publiquely proclaime,
And as a poore thing proudly doth disdaine
To give it selfe out by another Name,
Or take upon it any strange Disguise,
But now with Legions furiously doth rise.

39

As Severne lately in her Ebbes that sanke,

A Simile of the first rising of the Barons.

Vast and forsaken leaves th'uncovered Sands,
Fetching full Tides, luxurious, high, and ranke,
Seemes in her pride t'invade the neighb'ring Lands,
Breaking her Limits, covering all her Banks,
Threat'neth the proud Hills with her wat'rie Hands;
As though she meant her Empyrie to have,
Where even but lately she beheld her Grave.

40

From every place, when Souldiers farre and neere,
Flocke to the Field, as Fortune lots their side,
With th'ancient Weapons they had us'd to beare;
Some, as they were directed by their Guide;
Others againe, as they affected were;
But the most part, as by their dutie tyde:
As each one finds the motion of his blood,
Let those that lead them, make the Quarrell good.

41

From Norfolke, and the Countries of the East,
That with the Pike most skilfully could fight;
Then those of Kent, unconquer'd of the rest,
That to this day maintaine their ancient Right;
For courage no whit second to the best,
The Cornish men most active, bold, and light;
Those neere the

Those of Hampshire, Wiltshire, and Borderers of the Plaine of Salisbury, clayme the Vaward of the English Battels.

Plaine, the Pole-axe best that wield,
And clayme for theirs the Vaward of the Field.

42

The Noble Welsh, of th'ancient British Race;
From Lancashire, Men famous for their Bowes;
The Men of Ches-shire, chiefest for their place,
Of Bone so bigge, as onely made for Blowes,
Which for their faith are had in speciall grace,
And have beene ever fearefull to their Foes:
The Northerne then, in Feuds so deadly fell,
That for their Speare and Horsemanship excell.

43

All that for use Experience could espie,
Such as in Fennes and Marsh-lands use to trade,
The doubtfull Foards and Passages to trie,
With Stilts and Lope-staves, that doe aptliest wade,
Most fit for Scouts and Currers to descrie;
Those from the Mynes, with Pick-axe and with Spade,
For Pioners best, that for intrenching are,
Men chiefely needfull in the use of Warre.

44

O Noble Nation, furnished with Armes,
So full of Spirit, as almost match'd by none!
Had Heaven but blest thee, to foresee thy Harmes,
And as thy valiant Nephewes did, have gone
Paris, Roan, Orleance, shaking with Alarmes;

The Conquest of France in the next raigne of Edward the third.

As the bright Sunne, thy glorie then had shone:
To other Realmes thou hadst transfer'd this Chance;
Nor had your Sonnes been first that conquer'd France.

45

And thus on all hands setting up their rest,
And all make forward for this mightie Day,
Where every one prepares to doe his best,
When at the stake their Lives and Fortunes lay,
No crosse Event their Purposes to wrest,
Being now on, in so direct a Way;
Yet whilst they play this strange and doubtfull Game,
The Queene stands off, and secretly gives ayme.

46

But Mortimer his foot had scarcely set
Into the Road, where Fortune had to deale,
But she dispos'd his forward course to let;
Her lewd Condition quickly doth reveale,
Glory to her vaine Deitie to get
By him, whose strange birth bare her ominous Seale;
Taking occasion from that very Houre,
In him to prove and manifest her Power.

47

As when we see the early rising Sunne,

A Similie of the first rising of Mortimer.

With his bright Beames to emulate our sight;
But when his Course yet newly is begun,
The hum'rous Fogges deprive us of his Light,
Till through the Clouds he his cleare Forehead runne,
Climbing the Noone-stead in his glorious height:
His cleare beginning, Fortune cloudeth thus,
To make his Mid-day great and glorious.

48

The King (discreetly) that considered

Good considerations of the King.

The space of Earth, whereon the Barons stand,
As what the Powers to them contributed,
Then being himselfe but Partner of his Land;
Of the small Strength and Armie that he led
'Gainst them which did so great a Power command,
Wisely about him doth begin to looke:
Great was the Taske which now he undertooke.

49

And warn'd by Danger to misdoubt the worst,
In equall Scales whilst eithers Fortunes hung,
He must performe the utmost that he durst,
Or undergoe intolerable Wrong:
As good to stirre, as after be enforc'd;
To stop the Sourse whence all these Mischiefes sprung,
He with the Marchers thinkes best to begin,
Which first must lose, ere he could hope to winne.

50

The Mortimers being Men of greatest Might,
Whose Name was dreadfull, and commanded farre,
Sturdie to manage, of a haughtie Spright,
Strongly ally'd, much followed, popular,
On whom, if he but happily could light,
He hop'd more eas'ly to conclude the Warre;
Which he intendeth speedily to trie,
To quit that first, which most stood in his eye.

51

For which, he expeditiously provided,
That part of Land into his Power to get;
Which, if made good, might keepe his Foes divided,
Their Combination cunningly to let;
Which should they joyne, would be so strongly sided,

Two Armies on foot by the Barons, one in the West, the other in the North.

Two mightie Hoasts, together safely met,
The face of Warre would looke so sterne and great,
As it might threat to heave him from his Seat.

52

Wherefore the King from London setteth forth,
With a full Armie, furnish'd of the best,
Accompany'd with men of speciall worth,
Which to this Warre his Promises had prest:
Great Lancaster was Lord of all the North,
The Mortimers were Masters of the West;
He towards mid-England makes the way 'twixt either,
Which they must crosse, ere they could come together.

53

Strongly inveagled with delightfull Hope,
Stoutly t'affront and shoulder with Debate,
Knowing to meet with a resolved Troupe,
That came prepar'd with Courage, and with Hate;
Whose stubborne Crests if he inforc'd to stoupe,
It him behoves to tempt some powerfull Fate,
And through sterne Guards of Swords and hostile Fire,
Make way to Peace, or shamefully retire.

54

The Mortimers so called, for their great power in the Marches.

When now the Marchers, well upon their way,
(Expecting those, that them Supplyes should bring,
Which had too long abus'd them by Delay)

The Mortimers intercepted on the sudden.

Were suddenly incountred by the King;
They then perceive, that dilatorie stay
To be the causer of their ruining,
When at their bosomes blacke Destruction stood,
With open Jawes prepared for their Blood.

55

And by the shifting of th'unconstant Wind,
Seeing what Weather they were like to meet,
Which even at first so awkwardly they find,
Before they could give Sea-roomth to their Fleet,
Cleane from their Course, and cast so farre behind,
And yet in perill every houre to split;
Some unknowne Harbor suddenly must sound,
Or runne their Fortunes desp'rately on ground.

56

The elder Peere, grave, politique, and wise,
Which had all dangers absolutely scan'd,
Finding high time his Nephew to advise,
Since now their state stood on this desp'rate hand,
And from this Mischiefe, many more to rise,
Which his Experience made him understand;
Nephew (sayth he) 'tis but in vaine to strive,
Counsell must helpe, our safetie to contrive.

57

The downe-right Perill, present in our eye,

The Counsell of the elder Mortimer to his Nephew.

Not to be shun'd, we see what it assures;
Thinke then what weight upon our Fall doth lye,
And what our Being, this Designe procures;
As to our Friends, what good may grow thereby,
Proove, which the Test of Reason best endures;
“For who observes strict Policies true Lawes,
“Shifts his Proceeding, to the varying Cause.

58

To hazzard fight with the Imperiall Powers,
Will our small Troupes undoubtedly apall;
Then, this our Warre us wilfully devoures:
Yeelding our selves, yet thus we lose not all,
We leave our Friends this smaller Force of ours,
Reserv'd for them, though haplesly we fall;
“That Weakenesse ever hath a glorious Hand,
“That falls it selfe, to make the Cause to stand.

59

'Twixt unexpected, and so dangerous Ills,
That's saf'st, wherein we smallest Perill see,
Which, to make choise of, Reason justly wills,
And it doth best with Policie agree:
The idle vulgar Breath, it nothing skills,
'Tis sound Discretion must our Pilot be;
“He that doth still the fairest meanes preferre,
“Answers Opinion, howsoe're he erre.

60

And to the Worlds eye seeming yet so strong,
By our descending willingly from hence,
'Twill shew we were provoked by our wrong,
Not having other sinister Pretence:
This Force left off, that doth to us belong,
Will in Opinion lessen our Offence;
“Men are not ever incident to losse,
“When Fortune seemes them frowardly to crosse.

61

Nor give we Envie absolute excesse,
To search so farre, our Subtilties to find,
There's neerer meanes, this Mischiefe to redresse,
And make successefull what is yet behind:
Let's not our selves of all Hope dis-possesse,
Fortune is ever variously inclin'd;
“A small Advantage in th'Affaires of Kings,
“Guides a slight Meanes, to compasse mighty Things.

62

This speech so caught his Nephewes plyant youth,
(Who his grave Eam did ever much respect)
Proceeding from Integritie and Truth;
Well could he counsell, well could he direct,
With strong Perswasions, which he still pursu'th;
Which in a short time shew'd by the effect,
“A Wise mans Counsell, by a secret Fate,
“Seeming from Reason, yet proves fortunate.

63

To which, the King they gravely doe invite,
By the most strict and ceremonious way;
No Circumstance omitted, nor no Rite,
That might give colour to their new Essay,
Or that Applause might publiquely excite:
To which, the King doth willingly obay:

The King accepteth the Mortimers submission.

Who like themselves, in seeing Danger neere,
Rather accepts a Doubt, then certaine Feare.

64

Which he receives, in presage of his good,
To his Successe auspiciously apply'd;
Which somewhat cool'd his much distemp'red Blood,
Ere he their force in doubtfull Armes had try'd:
And whilst they thus in his Protection stood,
At his disposing wholly to abide,
He first, in safetie, doth dismisse their Power,
Then sends them both his Pris'ners to the Tower.

65

O all-preparing Providence Divine!
In thy large Booke, what Secrets are enrol'd?
What sundry Helpes doth thy great Power assigne,
To prop that Course which thou intend'st to hold?
What mortall Sense is able to define
Thy Mysteries, thy Counsels manifold?
It is thy Wisdome, strangely that extends
Obscure Proceedings to apparant Ends.

66

This was the meanes, by which the Fates dispose,
More dreadfull Plagues upon that Age to bring;
Utter Confusion on the heads of those,
That were before the Barons ruining;
With the subversion of the Publiques Foes,
The Murther of the miserable King;
And that which 'came Catastrophe to all,
Great Mortimers inevitable fall.

67

This, to these Troubles lends a little Breath,
As the first Pawse, to hearten this Affaire,
And for a while deferres oft-threatning Death,
Whilst each their Breach by leysure would repaire,
And as a Bound, their Furie limiteth;
But in this manner, whilst things strangely fare,
Horror beyond all wonted Bounds doth swell,
As the next Canto fearefully shall tell.

The end of the first Canto.