The Works of Michael Drayton Edited by J. William Hebel |
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The second Canto.
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 | The Works of Michael Drayton |  |
27
The second Canto.
The Argument.
At Burton Bridge the puissant Powers are met,The Forme and Order of the doubtfull Fight,
Whereas the King the Victorie doth get,
And the prowd Barons are inforc'd to flight;
When they againe towards Borough forward set,
Where they by him were vanquished out-right;
Lastly, the Lawes doe execute their Power
On those, which there the Sword did not devoure.
1
This chance of Warre, that suddenly had sweptSo large a share from their selected store,
Which for their helpe they carefully had kept,
That to their aid might stil have added more;
By this ill-lucke into their Armie crept,
Made them much weaker then they were before;
So that the Barons reinforc'd their Bands,
Finding their Hearts to stand in need of Hands.
2
For deadly Hate, so long and deepely rooted,Could not abide to heare the name of Peace,
So that Discretion but a little booted
'Gainst that, thereby which only did increase;
For the least Griefe, by Malice was promoted,
Anger set on, beginning to surcease;
So that all Counsell much their eares offended,
But what to Spoyle and sad Invasion tended.
28
3
All up in Action for the publique Cause,Scarcely the mean'st, but he a partie stood,
Tax'd by the Letter of the censuring Lawes,
In his estate, if fayling in his Blood;
And who was free'st, intangled by some Clause,
Which to their Furie gives continuall food;
“For where Confusion once hath gotten hold,
“Till all fall flat, it hardly is control'd.
4
And now by Night, when as pale Leaden SleepeUpon their eye-lids heavily did dwell,
And step by step, on every Sense did creepe,
Mischiefe, that blacke inhabitant of Hell,
Which never failes continuall Watch to keepe,
Fearefull to thinke, a horrid thing to tell,
Entred the Place, whereas those warlike Lords
Lay mayl'd in Armour, gyrt with irefull Swords.
5
She with a sharpe sight, and a meager looke,Was alwayes prying where she might doe ill,
In which, the Fiend continuall pleasure tooke,
(Her starved Bodie, Plentie could not fill)
Searching in every Corner, every Nooke,
With winged feet, too swift to worke her will;
Furnish'd with deadly Instruments she went,
Of every sort, to wound where so she meant.
6
Having a Viall fill'd with banefull Wrath,(Brought from Cocytus by that cursed Spright)
Which in her pale Hand purposely she hath,
And drops the Poyson upon every Wight;
For to each one she knew the readie Path,
Though in the midst and dead time of the Night;
Whose strength too soone invadeth every Peere,
Not one escap'd her, that she commeth neere.
29
7
That, the next Morning, breaking in the East,With a much-troubled and affrighted Mind,
Each, whom this Venome lately did infest,
The strong effect in their swolne stomacks find;
Now doth the Poyson boyle in every Brest,
To sad Destruction every one's inclin'd,
Rumors of Spoyle through every eare doe flye,
And threat'ning Furie sits in every eye.
8
This done, in haste shee to King Edward hyes,Who late growne proud upon his good Successe,
His time to Feasts and Wantonnesse applyes,
And with crown'd Cups his Sorrowes doth suppresse,
Upon his Fortune wholly that relyes;
And in the Bosome of his Courtly Presse,
Vaunteth the hap of this victorious Day,
Whilst the sicke Land in Sorrow pines away.
9
Thither she comes, and in a Minions shape,She getteth neere the Person of the King,
And as he tast's the Liquor of the Grape,
Into the Cup her Poyson she doth wring:
Not the least drop untainted doth escape,
For to that purpose she her store did bring;
Whose strong commixture (as the Sequell try'd)
Fill'd his hot Veines with Arrogance and Pride.
10
That having both such Courage, and such Might,As to so great a Bus'nesse did belong,
Neither yet thinke, by their unnaturall Fight,
What the Republique suffred them among;
For mystie Error so deludes their Sight,
(Which still betwixt them and cleere Reason hung)
And their Opinions in such sort abus'd,
As that their Fault can never be excus'd.
30
11
Now our Minerva puts on dreadfull Armes,Further to wade into this Bloudie Warre,
And from her slumber wak'ned with Alarmes,
Riseth, to sing of many a Massacre,
Of gloomie Magiques, and benumming Charmes,
Of many a deepe Wound, many a fearefull Skarre;
For that low Socke, wherein she us'd to tread,
Marching in Greaves, a Helmet on her Head.
12
Whilst thus vaine Hope doth these false Lords delude,Who having drawne their Forces to a Head,
They their full purpose seriously pursu'd,
By Lancaster and valiant Harford led,
Their long Proceeding lastly to conclude;
Whilst now to meet, both Armies hotly sped,
The Barons taking Burton in their way,
Till they could heare where Edwards Armie lay.
13
To which, Report too suddenly bewray'dTheir manner of encamping, and the Place,
Their present Strength, and their expected Ayd,
As what might most avayle them in this Case:
The speedie March th'Imperiall Power had made,
Had brought them soone within a little space;
For still the King conducted had his Force,
Which way he heard the Barons bent their Course.
14
Upon the East, from Bushie Needwoods side,There riseth up an easie-climbing Hill,
At whose faire foot, the Silver Trent doth slide,
And the slow Ayre, with her soft murmuring, fill;
Which, with the store of liberall Brookes supplyde,
Th'insatiate Meads continually doth swill;
Over whose Streame, a Bridge of wond'rous strength
Leads on from Burton, to that Hill in length.
31
15
Upon the Mount, the King his Tentage fixt,And in the Towne, the Barons lay in sight,
When as the Trent was risen so betwixt,
That for a while prolong'd th'unnaturall fight,
With many Waters that it selfe had mixt,
To stay their Furie, doing all it might;
“Things which presage both good and ill, there be,
“Which Heaven fore-shewes, but will not let us see.
16
The Heaven (ev'n) mourning o'er our Heads doth sit,Greeving to see the Times so out of course,
Looking on them, who never looke at it,
And in meere pittie, melteth with Remorse;
Longer from Teares that could not stay a whit,
Whose influence on every lower Sourse,
From the swolne fluxure of the Clouds, doth shake
A ranke Impostume upon every Lake.
17
O Warlike Nation, hold thy conqu'ring Hand,Even senselesse Things do warne thee yet to pawse;
Thy Mother Soyle, on whom thou arm'd do'st stand,
Which should restraine thee by all naturall Lawes,
Canst thou (unkind) inviolate that Band?
Nay, Heaven and Earth are angry with the Cause;
Yet stay thy foot, in Mischiefs ugly Gate.
“Ill comes too soone, Repentance oft too late.
18
O, can the Clouds weepe over thy decay,Yet not one drop fall from thy droughtie eyes!
See'st thou the Snare, and wilt not shun the way,
Nor yet be warn'd by passed Miseries?
'Tis yet but early in this dismall Day,
Let late Experience learne thee to be wise;
“An Ill foreseene, may eas'ly be prevented,
“But hap'd, un-help'd, though ne'er inough lamented.
32
19
Cannot the Scot of your late Slaughter boast,And are yee yet scarce healed of the Sore?
Is't not inough yee have alreadie lost,
But your owne Madnesse must needs make it more?
Will yee seeke Safetie in some foraine Coast?
Your Wives and Children pitied yee before:
But when your own Blouds your own Swords imbrue,
Who pitties them, who should have pittied you?
20
The neighb'ring Groves are spoyled of their Trees,For Boats, and Timber, to assay the Flood,
Where Men are lab'ring as 'twere Summer Bees,
Some hollowing Trunkes, some binding heapes of Wood,
Some on their Brests, some working on their Knees,
To winne the Banke whereon the Barons stood;
Which, o'er the Current they by strength must tew,
To shed that Bloud, which many an Age shall rew.
21
Some sharp their Swords, some right their Murrians set,Their Greaves and Pouldrons others rivet fast,
The Archers now their bearded Arrowes whet,
Whilst every where the clam'rous Drums are bras'd;
Some taking view, where they sure ground might get,
Not one, but some advantage doth fore-cast;
With Ranks and Files, each Plaine & Medow swarmes,
As all the Land were clad in angry Armes.
22
The Crests and Badges of each Nobler Name,Against their Owners rudely seeme to stand,
As angry for th'Atchievements whence they came,
That to their Fathers gave that generous Brand.
O yee unworthie of your ancient Fame,
Against your selves to lift your conqu'ring Hand;
Since foraine Swords your Height could not abate,
By your owne Pride, your selves to ruinate!
33
23
Upon his Surcote, valiant Nevil boreA Silver Saltoyre, upon Martiall Red;
A Ladies Sleeve, high-spirited Hastings wore;
Ferrer his Taberd, with rich Verry spred,
Well knowne in many a Warlike Match before;
A Raven sat on Corbets armed Head;
And Culpepper, in Silver Armes enrayl'd,
Bare thereupon a bloudie Bend engrayl'd.
24
The Noble Percy, in this dreadfull Day,With a bright Cressant in his Guidehome came,
In his white Cornet, Verdon doth display
A fret of Gueles, priz'd in this mortall Game,
That had been seene in many a doubtfull Fray,
His Lances Penons stayned with the same;
The angry Horse, chaf'd with the stubborne Bit,
With his hard Hoofe the Earth in furie smit.
25
I could the summe of Staffords arming show,What Colours, Rosse and Courtney did unfold,
Great Warrens Blazon I could let you know,
And all the glorious Circumstance have told,
Nam'd every Ensigne as they stood arow;
But O, deare Muse, too soone thou art control'd!
For in remembrance of their evill speed,
My Pen, for Inke, warme drops of Bloud doth sheed.
26
On the Kings part, th'Imperiall Standard's pitch'd,With all the Hatchments of the English Crowne,
Great Lancaster (with no lesse Power enrich'd)
Sets the same Leopards in his Colours downe:
O, if yee be not frantique, or bewitch'd,
Yet doe but see, that on your selves you frowne:
A little note of diff'rence is in all,
How can the same stand, when the same doth fall?
34
27
Behold the Eagles, Lyons, Talbots, Beares,The Badges of your famous Ancestries;
Shall those brave Marks, by their inglorious Heires,
Stand thus oppos'd against their Families?
More ancient Armes no Christian Nation beares,
Reliques unworthy of their Progenies;
Those Beasts yee beare, doe in their kinds agree,
O, that then Beasts, more savage Men should be!
28
And whilst the King doth in sad Councell sit,How he might best the other Banke recover,
See how Misfortune still her time can fit!
Such as were sent, the Countrey to discover,
(As up and downe, from place to place they flit)
Had found a Foard, to passe their Forces over;
“Ill Newes hath Wings, and with the Wind doth goe,
“Comfort's a Cripple, and comes ever slow.
29
These Earles, on the Kings part, were John Britan, Earle of Richmont, John Warren, Earle of Surrey, and Aymer de Valence, Earle of Pembroke, & Edmond of Woodstocke, Earle of Kent, the Kings younger Brother.
Proud Richmont, Surrey, & great Pembroke sent,
On whose Successe, he mightily relyes,
Under whose Conduct, halfe his Armie went,
The neerest way conducted by the Spyes;
And he himselfe, and Edmond, Earle of Kent,
Upon the Hill, in sight of Burton lay,
Watching to take advantage of the Day.
30
Stay, Surrey, stay, thou may'st too soone be gone,Pawse till this Heat be somewhat over-past,
Full little know'st thou whither thou do'st runne;
Richmont and Pembroke, never make such haste,
Yee doe but strive to bring more Horror on:
“Never seeke Sorrow, for it comes too fast;
Why strive yee thus, to passe this fatall Floud,
To fetch but Wounds, and shed your neerest Bloud?
35
31
Great Lancaster, yet sheath thy angrie Sword,On Edwards Armes, whose edge thou should'st not set,
Thy naturall Kinsman, and thy Sov'raigne Lord,
Both from the Loynes of our Plantaginet,
Call yet to mind thy once engaged Word;
Canst thou thy Oath to Long-shanks thus forget?
“Men should performe, before all other things,
“The serious Vowes they make, to God, and Kings.
32
The Winds were hush'd (no little Breath doth blow)Which seems sat still, as though they list'ning stood,
With trampling Crowds, the very Earth doth bow,
And through the Smoake, the Sunne appear'd like Blood;
What with the Showt, and with the dreadfull Show,
The Heards of Beasts ran bellowing to the Wood;
When Drums and Trumpets to the Charge did sound,
As they would shake the grosse Clouds to the ground.
33
The Earles then charging with their power of Horse,Taking a Signall when they should begin,
Being in view of th'Imperiall force,
Which at that time assay'd the Bridge to win,
Which made the Barons change their former course,
T'avoid the present Danger they were in;
Which on the sudden had they not fore-cast,
Of their last Day, that Houre had beene the last.
34
When from the Hill the Kings maine Powers come downe,Which had Aquarius to their valiant Guide,
Brave Lancaster & Harford, from the Towne,
Doe issue forth upon the other side,
Peere against Peere, the Crowne against the Crowne,
The King assayles, the Barons munify'd;
Englands Red Crosse upon both sides doth flye,
S. George, the King, S. George, the Barons crye.
36
35
Like as an Exhalation hot and drie,Amongst the Ayre-bred moystie Vapours throwne,
Spetteth his Lightning forth outragiously,
Rending the thicke Clouds with the Thunder stone,
Whose fierie Splinters through the thinne Ayre flye,
That with the Horror, Heaven and Earth doth grone;
With the like Clamour, and confused O,
To the dread Shock the desp'rate Armies goe.
36
There might Men see the famous English Bowes,Wherewith our Foes we wonted to subdue,
Shoot their sharpe Arrowes in the face of those,
Which oft before victoriously them drew;
Yet shun their Ayme; and troubled in the Loose,
Those well-wing'd Weapons mourning as they flew,
Slip'd from the Bow-string, impotent, and slacke,
As to the Archers they would faine turne backe.
37
Behold the Remnant of Troyes ancient Stocke,Laying on Blowes, as Smyths on Anvyls strike,
Grappling together in the fearefull Shocke,
Where still the strong encountreth with the like,
(And each as ruthlesse as the hard'ned Rocke)
Wer't with the Speare, or Browne Bill, or the Pike,
Still as the Wings, or Battels came together,
Ere fortune gave advantage yet to either.
38
From batt'red Helmes, with ev'ry envious Blow,The scatt'red Plumes flye loosely here and there,
To the Beholder like to flakes of Snow,
That ev'ry light breath on its Wings doth beare,
As they had sense and feeling of our Woe:
And thus affrighted with the sudden feare,
Now back, now forward, such strange windings make,
As though uncertaine which way they should take.
37
39
Slaughter alike invadeth either Hoast,Whilst still the Battell strongly doth abide,
Which ev'ry where runnes raking through the Coast,
As't pleas'd outragious Furie it to guide,
Yet not suffic'd, where tyrannizing most;
So that their Wounds, like Mouthes, by gaping wide,
Made as they meant to call for present Death,
Had they but Tongues, their deepnesse gives them breath.
40
Here lyes a heape halfe slaine, and partly drown'd,Gasping for breath amongst the slymie Segges,
And there a sort layd in a deadly Swoun'd,
Trod with the Prease into the Mudde and Dregges;
Others lye bleeding on the firmer ground,
Hurt in the Bodies, maym'd of Armes and Legges;
One sticks his Foe, his Scalpe another cuts,
Ones feet intangled in anothers guts.
41
One his assayling Enemie beguiles,As from the Bridge he fearefully doth fall,
Crush'd with his weight upon the Stakes and Pyles;
Some in their gore upon the Pavement sprall,
Our Native Bloud, our Native Earth defiles,
And dire Destruction overwhelmeth all;
Such hideous Shrikes the Bedlam Souldiers breath,
As the damn'd Sp'rits had howled from beneath.
42
The Faction still defying Edwards might,Edmond of Wood-stock, with the Men of Kent,
Charging afresh, renues the doubtfull Fight
Upon the Barons, languishing and spent,
Bringing new matter for a Tragique sight;
Forth against whom, their skilfull Warriors went,
Bravely to end, what bravely did begin,
Their Noblest Sp'rits will quickly lose, or win.
38
43
A Catalogue of many of the Barons, that were with the Earles of Lancaster and Harford, in two Stanza's.
Talbot himselfe in this fierce Conflict bare,
Mowbray in fight him matchlesse Honour wonne,
Clifford for Life seem'd little but to care,
Awdley and Elmsbridge Perill scorne to shunne,
Gifford seem'd Danger to her teeth to dare,
Nor Badlesmer gave back to Edwards Power,
As though they strove whom Death should first devoure.
44
Ile not commend thee Mountfort, nor thee Teis,Else your high Valour much might justly merit;
Nor Denvyle, dare I whisper of thy prayse;
Nor Willington, will I applaud thy Spirit;
Your Facts forbid, that I your Fame should rayse;
Nor Damory, thy due may'st thou inherit;
Your Bayes must be your well-deserved blame,
For your ill actions quench my sacred flame.
45
O, had you fashion'd your great Deeds by them,Who summon'd Acon with an English Drum;
Or theirs, before, that to Jerusalem
Went with the gen'rall Power of Christendome;
Then had yee raught Fames richest Diadem,
As they who fought to free the Saviours Tombe,
And like them, had immortaliz'd your Names,
Where now my Song can be but of your Shames.
46
O Age inglorious, Armes untimely borne,When that approved and victorious Shield
Must in this civill Massacre be torne,
Brus'd with the Blowes of many a foraine Field;
And more, in this sad Overthrow be worne
By those, in flight inforc'd it up to yeeld;
For which, since then, the Stones for very dread,
Against rough stormes, cold drops for teares doe shead.
39
47
When soone King Edwards faint & wav'ring friends,Which had this while stood doubtfully to pawse,
When they perceive, that Destinie intends,
That his Successe shall justifie his Cause,
Each in himselfe fresh Courage apprehends,
“(For Victorie both Feare and Friendship drawes)
And smile on him, on whom they late did frowne,
All lend their hands to hew the conqu'red downe.
48
That scarce a Man, which Edward late did lacke,Whilst the proud Barons bare an upright Face,
But (when they saw, that they had turn'd their backe)
Joynes with the King, to prosecute their Chase,
The Baronage so headlong goes to wracke;
In the just tryall of so neere a Case,
Inforc'd to prove the fortune of the Coast,
The Day at Burton that had cleerely lost.
49
And to the aid of the victorious King,(Which more and more gave vigour to his hope,
With good Successe him still encouraging,
And to his Actions lent an ampler Scope)
Sir Andrew Herckley happily doth bring,
On their light Horse a valiant Northerne Troupe,
Arm'd but too aptly, and with too much speed,
Most to doe harme, when least thereof was need.
50
When still the Barons making forth their way,Through Places best for their Advantage knowne,
Retaine their Armie, bodyed as they may,
By their Defeat, farre weaker that was growne;
In their best skill devising day by day,
T'offend th'Assaylant, and defend their owne,
Of their Mis-haps the utmost to endure,
If nothing else their Safetie might assure.
40
51
In their sad flight, with Furie followed thus,Tracing the North through many a tyresome Strait,
And forc'd through many a Passage perillous,
To Borough Bridge, led by their lucklesse Fate:
Bridges should seeme to Barons ominous,
For there they lastly were precipitate;
Which place, the marke of their Mischance doth beare,
For since that time, Grasse never prosp'red there.
52
Where, for new Bloudshed they new Battels rang'd,And take new Breath, to make Destruction new:
Chang'd is their Ground, but yet their Fate unchang'd,
Which too directly still doth them pursue;
Nor are they, and their Miseries estrang'd,
To their Estates though they meere strangers grew;
The only hope whereon they doe depend,
With Courage is to consummate their end.
53
Like as a Heard of over-heated Deere,By hot-spur'd Hunters lab'red to be caught,
With Hues and Hounds recov'red ev'ry where,
When as they find their speed availes them naught,
Upon the Toyles runne headlong, without feare,
With noyse of Hounds, and Hollow's, as distraught;
Even so the Barons, in this desp'rate case,
Turne upon those which lately did them chase.
54
Ensigne beards Ensigne, Sword 'gainst Sword doth shake,Drum brawles with Drum, as Ranke doth Ranke oppose,
Ther's not a Man that care of Life doth take,
But Death in earnest to his Bus'nesse goes,
A gen'rall Havocke as of all to make,
And with Destruction doth them all inclose,
Dealing it selfe impartially to all,
Friend by his friend, as foe by foe doth fall.
41
55
Yet the brave Barons, whilst they doe respire,(In spight of Fortune, as they stood prepar'd)
With Courage charge, with Comelinesse retyre,
Make good their Ground, and then relieve their Guard,
Withstand the Ent'rer, then pursue the Flyer,
New-forme their Battell, shifting ev'ry Ward;
As your high Skill, were but your Quarrell good,
O Noble Spirits, how deare had beene your Blood!
56
That well-arm'd Band, ambitious Herckley led,Of which, the Barons never dreamt before,
Then greatly stood King Edwards Power in stead,
And in the Fight assayl'd the Enemie sore:
O Day most fatall, and most full of dread!
Never can Time thy ruinous Waste restore;
Which with his strength though he attempt to doo,
Well may he strive for, and yet fayle of too.
57
Pale Death beyond his wonted Bounds doth swell,Carving proud flesh in Cantles out at large;
As Leaves in Autumne, so the Bodies fell,
Under sharpe Steele, at ev'ry boyst'rous Charge:
O, what sad Pen can their Destruction tell!
Where Scalpes lay beaten like the batt'red Targe;
And every one he claymeth as his right,
Whose lucke it was not to escape by flight.
58
Those Warlike Ensignes, waving in the Field,Which lately seem'd to brave th'imbattell'd Foe,
Longer not able their owne weight to wield,
Their loftie Tops to the base Dust doe bow;
Here sits a Helmet, and there lyes a Shield:
O, ill did Fate those ancient Armes bestow!
Which as a Quarry on the soyl'd Earth lay,
Seiz'd on by Conquest, as a glorious Prey.
42
59
Where Noble Bohun, that most Princely Peere,Harford, much honor'd, and of high desert,
And to this Nation none as he so deare,
Passing the Bridge with a resolved heart,
To stop his Souldiers, which retyring were,
Was 'twixt two Plankes slaine through his lower part;
But Lancaster, not destin'd there to die,
Taken, reserv'd to further Miserie.
60
Whose Tragique Scene, some Muse vouchsafe to sing:His, of five Earledomes who then liv'd possest,
A Brother, Sonne, and Unckle to a King,
With Favour, Friends, and with Abundance blest:
What could Man thinke, or could devise the thing,
That but seem'd wanting to his worldly Rest?
“But on this Earth, what's free from Fortunes Power?
“What an Age got, is lost in halfe an houre.
61
Some few, themselves in Sanctuaries hide;Which, though they have the mercie of the place,
Yet are their Bodies so unsanctify'd,
As that their Soules can hardly hope for grace;
Where, they in Feare and Penurie abide
A poore dead Life, which length'neth but a space;
Hate stands without, whilst Horror still within
Prolongs their shame, yet pard'neth not their sinne.
62
Nor was Death then contented with the dead,Of full Revenge as though it were deny'd,
And till it might have that accomplished,
It held it selfe in nothing satisfy'd;
And with delayes no longer to be fed,
An unknowne Torment further doth provide,
That dead Men should in Miserie remaine,
To make the Living die with greater paine.
43
63
Yee Sov'raine Cities of this wofull Ile,In Cypresse Wreaths, and your most sad Attyre,
Prepare your selves to build the Funerall Pile,
Lay your pale Hands to this exequious Fire,
All Mirth and Comfort from your Streets exile,
Fill'd with the groanes of Men, when they expire;
The Noblest Bloud approching to be shed,
That ever dropt from any of your Dead.
64
When Thomas, Earle of Lancaster, that lateTh'rebellious Barons trayt'rously retain'd,
As the chiefe Agent in this great Debate,
Was for the same (ere many dayes) arraign'd,
'Gainst whom, at Pomfret they articulate,
(To whom those Treasons chiefely appertain'd;)
Whose Proofes apparant, so well, nay, ill sped,
As from his shoulders rest his rev'rend Head.
65
Yet Lancaster, it is not thy lost breath,That can assure the safetie of the Crowne,
Or that can make a Covenant with Death,
To warrant Edward, what he thinks his owne;
But he must pay the forfait of his Faith,
When they shall rise, which he hath trodden downe;
“All's not a Mans that is from others rackt,
“And other Agents other wayes doe act.
66
Nor was it long, but in that fatall place,The way to Death where Lancaster had led,
But many other, in the selfe-same case,
Him in like manner sadly followed.
London, would thou hadst had thy former grace,
As thou art first, most Bloud that thou hadst shed,
By other Cities not exceeded farre,
Whose Streets devoure the Remnant of that Warre.
44
67
O Parents ruthfull and heart-renting sight!To see that Sonne, that your soft Bosomes fed,
His Mothers Joy, his Fathers sole Delight,
That with much Cost, yet with more Care was bred;
O Spectacle (even) able to affright
A senselesse Thing, and terrifie the Dead!
His deare, deare Bloud, upon the cold Earth powr'd,
His quart'red Coarse, of Crowes and Kytes devour'd.
68
But 'tis not you that here complaine alone,Or to your selves this fearefull Portion share;
Here's strange and choise varietie of Moane,
Poore Orphans teares with Widowes mixed are,
With many Friends sigh, many a Maidens Groane;
So innocent, so simply pure, and rare,
As Nature, which till then had silence kept,
Neere burst with Sorrow, bitterly had wept.
69
O Bloudie Age! had not these things beene done,I had not now, in these more calmer Times,
Into the search of those past Troubles runne;
Nor had my Virgin unpolluted Rimes
Alt'red the course wherein they first begun,
To sing these horrid and unnaturall Crimes;
My Layes had still been of Ideas Bowre,
Of my deare Ancor, or her loved Stowre.
70
Nor other Subject then your Selfe, had chose,Your Birth, your Vertues, and your high Respects,
Whose Bounties oft have nourish'd my Repose;
You, whom my Muse ingenuously elects,
Denying Earth your brave Thoughts to inclose,
Maugre the Momists, and Satyricke Sects;
That whilst my Verse to after-Times is sung,
You may live with me, and be honor'd long.
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71
But greater things my Subject hath in store,Still to her Taske my armed Muse to keepe,
And offreth her Occasion as before,
Whereon she may in mournefull Verses weepe;
And as a Ship being gotten neere the Shore,
By awkward Winds re-driven to the Deepe,
So is the Muse, from whence she came of late,
Into the Businesse of a troubled State.
The end of the second Canto.
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