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

By sleepie Potions that the Queene ordaynes,
Lord Mortimer escapes out of the Tower;
And by false Sleights, and many subtill Traynes,
She gets to France, to rayse a foraine Power:
The French King leaves his Sister; Need constraynes
The Queene to Henault, in a happie Houre;
Edward, her Sonne, to Philip is affide;
They for Invasion instantly provide.

1

Scarse had these passed Miseries an end,
But other Troubles instantly began;
As Mischiefe doth new Matter apprehend,
By things that still irregularly ran:
For further yet their Furie doth extend;
All was not yeelded, that King Edward wan;
And some there were, in Corners that did lye,
Which o'er his Actions had a watchfull eye.

2

When as the King (whilst things thus fairely went)
Who by this happie Victorie grew strong,
Summon'd at Yorke a solemne Parlament,
T'uphold his Right, and helpe the Spensers wrong,
(In all Affaires t'establish his Intent)
Whence more and more his Minions Greatnesse sprong;
Whose Counsels still, in ev'ry Bus'nesse crost
Th'inraged Queene, in all Misfortunes tost.

3

When as the eld'st, a Man extremely hated,

Hugh Spenser the elder.

(Whom, till that time, the King could not preferre,
Untill he had the Barons Pride abated)
That Parlament made Earle of Winchester;
As Herckley, Earle of Carlel he created;

For his Service against the Barons, at Borough Bridge.

And likewise, Baldock he made Chancelor;
One, whom the King had for his Purpose wraught,
A Man, as subtill, so corrupt and naught.

4

When as Mis-haps (that seldome come alone)
Thicke in the necks of one another fell;
The Scot began a new Invasion,
And France did thence the English Powers expell,
The Irish set the English Pale upon,
At home, the Commons ev'ry day rebell;
Mischiefe on Mischiefe, Curse doth follow Curse,
One Ill scarce past, but after comes a worse.

5

For Mortimer, that Wind most fitly blew,
Troubling their eyes, which otherwise might see,
Whilst the wise Queene, who all Advantage knew,
Was closely casting, how to set him free;
And did the Plot so seriously pursue,
Till she had found the Meanes how it should be,
Against Opinion, and Imperious Might,
To worke her owne Ends, through the Jawes of Spight.

6

And to that purpose she a Potion made,
In Operation of that poys'ning Power,
That it the Spirits could presently invade,
And quite dis-sense the Senses in an houre,
With such cold numnesse, as it might perswade
That very Death the Patient did devoure,
For certaine Houres, and sealed up the eyes,
'Gainst all that Art could possibly devise.

7

The Ingredients to the sleepie Potion.

In which, she Plantan and cold Lettuce had,
The Water-Lilly from the Marish ground,
With the wan Poppie, and the Nightshade sad,
And the short Mosse, that on the Trees is found,
The poys'ning Henbane, and the Mandrake drad,
With Cypresse flowers, that with the rest were pown'd;
The braine of Cranes amongst the rest shee takes,
Mix'd with the Bloud of Dormice, and of Snakes.

8

Thus, like Medea, sat shee in her Cell,
Which shee had circled with her potent Charmes,
From thence all hind'rance cleerely to expell;
Then her with Magique Instruments she Armes,
And to her Bus'nesse instantly she fell;

A Fire lighted in an Angular Vessell, by the contraction of the Sunbeames.

A Vestall Fire she lights, wherewith she warmes
The mixed Juices, from those Simples wrung,
To make the Med'cine wonderfully strong.

9

The sundry Feares that from her Fact might rise,
Men may suppose, her trembling Hand might stay,
Had shee consider'd of the Enterprise,
To thinke what Perill in th'Attempt there lay;
Knowing besides, that there were secret Spyes
Set by her Foes, to watch her ev'ry way:
“But when that Sex leave Vertue to esteeme,
“Those greatly erre, which think them what they seeme.

10

A Character of meere Woman.

Their plighted Faith they at their pleasure leave,
Their Love is cold, but hot as fire their Hate,
On whom they smile, they surely those deceive,
In their Desires they be insatiate:
Them of their Will there's nothing can bereave,
Their Anger hath no bound, Revenge no date;
They lay by Feare, when they at Ruine ayme,
They shun not Sinne, as little weigh they Shame.

11

The elder of the Mortimers, this while
That their sure Friends so many sundry wayes,
By Fight, by Execution, by Exile,
Had seene cut off; then finished his dayes;
Which (though with griefe) doth somewhat reconcile
The youngers Thoughts, and lends his Cares some ease;

The elder of the Mortimers, dieth in the Tower.

Which oft his Heart, oft troubled had his Head,
For the deare safetie of his Unckle, dead.

12

But there was more did on his Death depend,
Then Heaven was pleas'd the foolish World should know;
And why the Fates thus hasted on his end,
Thereby intending stranger Plagues to show.
Brave Lord, in vaine thy breath thou didst not spend,
From thy Corruption, greater Conflicts grow;
Which began soone, and fruitfully to spring,
New kinds of Vengeance on that Age to bring.

13

As Heart could wish, when ev'ry thing was fit,
The Queene attends her Potions Power to prove;
Their stedfast Friends their best assisting it,
Their trustie Servants seale up all in love:
And Mortimer, his Valor and his Wit
Then must expresse, whom most it doth behove;
Each place made sure, where Guides and Horses lay,
And where the Ship, that was for his Convay.

14

When as his Birth-day he had yeerely kept,

Mortimer, in the time of his Imprisonment, observed his Birth-day in the Tower.

And us'd that day, those of the Tower to feed;
And on the Warders, other Bounties heapt,
For his Advantage, he that day decreed;
Which did Suspition clearely intercept,
And much avayl'd him at that time of need;
When after Cates, their Thirst at last to quench,
He mix'd their Liquor with that sleepie Drench.

15

Which soone each Sense doth with dead coldnesse seize;
When he which knew the Keepers of each Ward,
Out of their Pockets quickly tooke the Keyes,
His coarded Ladders readily prepar'd;
And stealing forth, through darke and secret wayes,
(Not then to learne his Compas by the Card)
To winne the Walls couragiously doth goe,
Which look'd as scorning to be mast'red so.

16

They soundly sleepe, whilst his quicke Spirits awake,
Expos'd to Perill in the high'st Extremes,
Alcydes Labours as to undertake,
O'er Walls, o'er Gates, through Watches, and through Streames,
By which, his owne way he himselfe must make:
And let them tell King Edward of their Dreames;
For ere they came out of their Braine-sicke Trance,
He made no doubt to be arriv'd in France.

17

The description of a gloomie Night, after the going downe of the Moone, being in her Prime; in two Stanza's.

The sullen Night had her blacke Curtaine spred,
Lowring that Day had tarried up so long,
And that the Morrow might lye long a Bed,
She all the Heav'n with duskie Clouds had hung;
Cynthia pluck'd in her newly-horned Head,
Away to West, and under Earth she flung,
As she had long'd to certifie the Sunne,
What, in his absence, in our World was done.

18

The lesser Lights, like Sentinels in Warre,
Behind the Clouds stood privily to prie,
As though unseene, they subt'ly strove from farre,
Of his escape the manner to descrie;
Hid was each Wand'ring, as each fixed Starre,
As they had held a Councell in the Skie,
And had concluded with that present Night,
That not a Starre should once give any Light.

19

In a slow silence, all the Shoares are husht,
Only the Shreech-owle sounded to th'Assault,
And Isis with a troubled Murmure rusht,
As if consenting, and would hide the Fault;

Thames.

And as his Foot the Sand or Gravell crusht,
There was a little whisp'ring in the Vault,
Mov'd by his treading, softly as he went,
Which seem'd to say, it furth'red his intent.

20

Whilst that wise Queene, whom Care yet restlesse kept,

The violent Passion of the Queene, whilest Mortimer was making his Escape, in six Stanza's.

For happie Speed, to Heav'n held up her hands,
With worlds of Hopes, and Feares together heapt
In her full Bosome; list'ning as she stands,
She sigh'd and pray'd, and sigh'd againe, and wept;
She sees him how he Climbes, how Swims, how Lands,
Though absent, present in Desires they bee,
“Our Soule much farther then our Eyes can see.

21

The small Clouds issuing from his Lips, she sayth,
Lab'ring so fast as he the Ladder clame,
Should purge the Ayre of Pestilence and Death;
And as from Heav'n, that filch'd Promethian flame,
The sweetnesse so, and vertue of his Breath,
New Creatures in the Element should frame;
And to what Part it had the hap to stray,
There should it make another Milkie Way.

22

Attayn'd the Top, whilst spent, he paws'd to blow,
She saw, how Round he cast his longing Eyes,
The Earth to greet him gently from below,
How greatly he was favored of the Skyes;
She saw him marke the Way he was to goe,
And tow'rds her Palace how he turn'd his Eyes;
From the Walls height, as when he downe did slide,
She heard him crie, Now Fortune be my Guide.

23

As he descended, so did she descend,
As she would hold him, that he should not fall,
On whom alone her Safetie did depend:
But when some Doubt did her deepe Thoughts appall,
Distractedly she did her Hands extend
For speedie Helpe, and earnestly did call
Softly againe, if Death to him should hap,
She beg'd of Heaven, his Grave might be her Lap.

24

To shew him favour, she intreats the Ayre,
For him she beg'd the mercie of the Wind,
For him she kneel'd before the Night with Prayer,
For him, her selfe she to the Earth inclin'd,
For him, his Tydes beseeching Thames to spare,
And to command his Billowes to be kind;
And tells the Floud, if he her Love would quit,
No Floud of her should honor'd be, but it.

25

But when she thought she saw him swim along,
Doubting the Streame was taken with his Love,
She fear'd the Drops that on his Tresses hung,
And that each Wave, which most should woo him, strove,
To his cleare Bodie that so closely clung,
Which when before him with his Brest he drove,
Pallid with Griefe, she turn'd away her Face,
Jealous, that he the Waters should imbrace.

26

That angry Lyon having slip'd his Chaine,
As in a Fever, made King Edward quake;
Who knew, before he could be caught againe,
Deare was the Bloud, that his strong Thirst must slake;
He found, much labour had beene spent in vaine,
And must be forc'd a further Course to take,
Perceiving Tempests rising in the Wind,
Of which too late, too truly he divin'd.

27

By his Escape, that adverse Part growne prowd,
On each hand working for a second Warre,
And in their Councels nothing was allow'd,
But what might be a Motive to some Jarre;
And though their Plots were carried in a Clowd,
From the discerning of the Popular,
The Wiser yet, whose Judgements farther raught,
Eas'ly perceive how things about were brought.

28

Those secret Fires, by envious Faction blowne,
Brake out in France, which cover'd long had layne;
King Charles from Edward challenging his owne,
First Guyne, next Pontieu, and then Aquitayne,
To each of which, he made his Title knowne,
Nor from their Seisure longer would abstaine;
The cause thereof, lay out of most Mens view,
Which though fooles found not, wise Men quickly knew.

29

Their Projects hitting (many a day in hand)
That to their Purpose prosp'rously had thriv'd,
The Base whereon a mightie Frame must stand,
By all their Cunnings that had beene contriv'd;
Finding their Actions were so throughly man'd,
Their fainting Hopes were wond'rously reviv'd,
They made no doubt, to see in little time,
The full of that, which then was in the prime.

30

The King much troubled with the French Affayre,
Which as a shapelesse and unweldie Masse,
Wholly imploy'd the utmost of his care,
To Charles of France his Embassie to passe,
For which, it much behov'd him to prepare,
Before the Warre too deepely settled was;
Which when they found, they likewise cast about,

The great Policie of the Queenes Faction.

As they would goe, to make him send them out.

31

Which, when they came in Councell to debate,
And to the depth had seriously discust,
Finding how neerely it concern'd the State,
To stay a Warre, both dang'rous and unjust;
That weightie Bus'nesse to negotiate,
They must find One of speciall worth and trust;
Where ev'ry Lord his Censure freely past,
Of whom he lik'd, the Bishop was the last.

32

Adam Torlton, Bishop of Hereford, a Man of high eloquence.

Torlton, whose Tongue Mens Eares in chaines could tye,
And like Joves fearfull Thunderbolt could pierce,
In which there more Authoritie did lye,
Then in those words the Sibyls did rehearse,
Whose Sentence was so absolute and hye,
As had the power a Judgement to reverse,
For the wise Queene, with all his might did stand,
To lay that charge on her well-guiding hand.

33

Urging what credit she the Cause might bring,
Impartiall, 'twixt a Husband, and a Brother,
A Queene in Person, betwixt King and King;
And more then that, to shew her selfe a Mother,
There for her Sonne, his Right establishing,
Which did as much concerne them as the other;
Which Colour serv'd to worke in this Extreame,
That, of which then, the King did never dreame.

34

Torlton, was this thy Spirituall Pretence?
Would God thy Thoughts had beene Spirituall,
Or lesse perswasive thy great Eloquence:
But O, thy Actions were too Temporall,
Thy Knowledge had too much Preheminence,
Thy Reason subtill, and Sophisticall;
“But all's not true, that Supposition sayth,
“Nor have the Mightiest Arguments most Fayth.

35

Nor did the Bishop those his Learned lacke,
As well of Power, as Policie and Wit,
That were prepar'd his great Designe to backe,
And could amend where ought he did omit:
For with such Cunning they had made their Packe,

A Metaphor taken from Card-play.

That it went hard, if that they should not hit;
That the faire Queene to France with speed must go,
Hard had he ply'd, that had perswaded so.

36

When she, well fitted both of Wind and Tyde,
And saw the Coast was ev'ry way so cleere,
As a wise Woman she her Bus'nesse plyde,
Whilst things went currant, and well carried were,
Her selfe, and hers, to get aboord she hyde,
As one, whose Fortune made her still to feare;
Knowing those Times so variously inclin'd,
And ev'ry Toy soone alt'ring Edwards Mind.

37

Her Followers such, as meerely Friendlesse stood,
Sunke, and dejected by the Spensers Pride,
Who bore the Taynts of Treason in their Blood,

Such, whose Bloud and Lands were attainted, in those late Rebellions.

And for Revenge, would leave no wayes untryde,
Whose Meanes were bad, but yet their Minds were good,
When now at hand they had their Helpe descryde;
Nor were they wanting, Mischiefe to invent,
To worke their Wills, and further her Intent.

38

Whilst Mortimer (that all this while hath layne,

Returning from matters of State, to the fortunes of Mortimer, in his exile.

From our faire Course) by Fortune strangely crost,
In France was struggling how he might regayne,
That which before in England he had lost,
And all good Meanes doth gladly entertaine,
No jot dismay'd, in all those Tempests tost,
Nor his great Mind could so be overthrowne,
All Men his Friends, all Countries were his owne.

39

Then Muse (transported by thy former zeale,
Led in thy Progresse, where his Fortune lyes)
To thy sure aid, I seriously appeale:
To shew him fully, without fain'd Disguise,
The ancient Heroes then I shall reveale,
And in their Patterns I shall be precise,
When in my Verse, transparent, neat, and cleare,
They, shall in his pure Character appeare.

40

In the person of Mortimer, the patterne of an excellent Man; in two Stanza's.

He was a Man (then boldly dare to say)
In whose rich Soule the Vertues well did sute,
In whom, so mix'd, the Elements all lay,
That none to one could Sov'raigntie impute,
As all did governe, yet all did obay;
He of a temper was so absolute,
As that it seem'd, when Nature him began,
She meant to shew all, that might be in Man.

41

A Metaphor from Timber

So throughly season'd, and so rightly set,
That in the Levell of the clearest Eye,
Time never toucht him with deforming Fret,
Nor had the power to warpe him but awry;
Whom, in his Course, no Crosse could ever let,
His Elevation fixed was so hye;
That those rough Stormes, whose rage the World doth prove,
Never raught him, who sat them farre above.

42

Which the Queene saw, who had a seeing Spirit,
For she had mark'd the largenesse of his Mind,
And with much Judgement look'd into his Merit,
Above the usuall compasse of her kind,

Looke to the 23. Stanza of the first Canto.

His Grandsires Greatnesse rightly to inherit;
When as the Ages in their Course inclin'd,
And the World weake, with Time began to bow
To that poore Basenesse that it rests at now.

43

He weighs not Wealth, nor yet his Wigmore left,

Wigmore, in Herefordshire, the ancient Seat of the Mortimers.

Let needlesse Heapes, as things of nothing stand;
That was not his, that Man could take by Theft,
He was a Lord, if he had Sea, or Land,

The Noble Resolution of a brave Mind.

And thought him rich, of those who was not reft;
“Man, of all Creatures, hath an upright hand,
“And by the Starres is only taught to know,
“That as they progresse Heav'n, he Earth should doe.

44

Wherefore wise Nature, from this face of Ground,
Into the Deepe taught Man to find the way,
That in the Floods her Treasure might be found,
To make him search, for what she there did lay;
And that her Secrets he might throughly sound,
She gave him Courage, as her only Kay,
That of all Creatures, as the worthiest, hee
Her glorie there and wond'rous works should see.

45

Let wretched Worldlings sweat for Mud and Earth,
Whose groveling Bosomes licke the recreant Stones,
Such Pesants carke for Plentie, and for Dearth,
Fame never lookes upon those prostrate Drones;
The brave Mind is allotted in the Birth,
To manage Empires from the state of Thrones,
Frighting coy Fortune, when she stern'st appeares,
Which scorneth Sighes, and jeereth at our Teares.

46

But when Report (as with a trembling Wing)
Tickled the entrance of his listning Eare,
With newes of Ships, sent out the Queene to bring,
For her at Sandwich which then wayting were;
He surely thought he heard the Angels sing,

The amorous Passion of Mortimer, hearing of the comming of the Queene.

And the whole Frame of Heav'n make up the Quire,
That his full Soule was smoth'red with excesse,
Her ample Joyes unable to expresse.

47

Quoth he, slide Billowes smoothly for her sake,

Fained by the Poets to be a God of the Sea.

Whose sight can make your aged Nereus yong,
For her faire Passage even Allyes make,
And as the soft Winds waft her Sayles along,
Sleeke ev'ry little Dimple of the Lake:
Sweet Syrens, and be readie with your Song;
Though 'tis not Venus that doth passe that way,
Yet is as faire as she borne on the Sea.

48

Yee Scalie Creatures, gaze upon her Eye,
And never after, with your kind make Warre;
O steale the Accents, from her Lippes that flye,
Which like the Tunes of the Celestials are,
And them to your sicke amorous Thoughts apply,

Fayned to make Fishes attend him, with the Musike of his Harpe.

Compar'd with which, Arions did but jarre;
Wrap them in ayre, and when blacke Tempests rage,
Use them as Charmes, the rough Seas to asswage.

49

France, send t'attend her with full Sholes of Oares,
With which her Fleet may ev'ry way be plyde;
And when she landeth on thy blessed Shoares,
And the vast Navie doth at Anchor ryde,
For her departure, when the wild Sea roares,
Ship mount to Heaven, and there be stellifyde;

An Asterisme given to the Ship, that carried Jason to Colchos.

Next Jasons Argo, on the burnish'd Throne,
Assume thy selfe a Constellation.

50

Queene Isabel then landing with delight,
Had what rich France could lend her for her ease;
And as she pass'd, no Towne but did invite
Her with some Shew, her Appetite to please:
But Mortimer once comming in her sight,
His shape and features did her Fancie seize;
When she, that knew how her fit time to take,
Thus she her most-lov'd Mortimer bespake:

51

O Mortimer, sweet Mortimer, quoth she,

The Queenes speech to Mortimer, at their first Interview.

What angry Power did first the meanes devise,
To separate Queene Isabel, and thee,
Whom (to despight) Love yet together tyes?
But if thou thinkst the Fault was made by me,
For a just Penance to my longing Eyes,
Though guiltlesse they, this be to them assign'd,
To gaze upon thee, till they leave me blind.

52

My deare, deare heart, thought I to see thee thus,
When first in Court thou didst my Favor weare,
When we have watch'd, lest any noted us,
Whilst our Lookes us'd Loves Messages to beare,
And we by signes sent many a secret Busse;
An Exile then, thought I to see thee here?
But what couldst thou be then, but now thou art?
Though banish'd England, yet not from my heart.

53

That Fate which did thy Franchisement inforce,
And from the depth of Danger set thee free,
Still Regular, and constant in that Course,
Made me this straight and even Path to thee,
Of our Affections as it tooke remorse,
Our Birth-fix'd Starres so luckily agree,
Whose Revolution seriously directs
Our like Proceedings, to the like effects.

54

Onely wise Counsell hath contriv'd this thing,
For which we wish'd so many a wofull day,
Of which, the cleare and perfect managing,
Is that strong Prop, whereon our Hopes may stay;
Which in it selfe th'Authoritie doth bring,
That weake Opinion hath not Power to sway,
Confuting those, whose sightlesse Judgements sit
In the thicke Ranke, with ev'ry common Wit.

55

Then since th'assay our good successe assures,
And we her Fav'rites leane on Fortunes Brest,
That ev'ry houre new Comforts us procures,
Of these her Blessings let us chuse the best,
And whilst the day of our good Hap endures,
Let's take the bounteous Benefits of Rest;
Let's feare no Storme, before we feele a Showre,

Of the Lands belonging to the Crowne of England, both in England and France.

My Sonne a King, two Kingdomes helpe my Dowre.

56

Of wanton Edward when I first was woo'd,
Why cam'st thou not into the Court of France?
Before thy King, thou in my grace hadst stood:
O Mortimer, how good had beene thy Chance!
My Love attempted in that youthfull Mood,
I might have beene thine owne Inheritance;
Where entring now by Force, thou holdst by Might,

A word borrowed from the Law.

And art Disseisor of anothers Right.

57

Thou Idoll, Honour, which we Fooles adore,
(How many Plagues doe rest in thee, to grieve us?)
Which when we have, we find there is much more,
Then that which onely is a Name, can give us;
Of reall Comforts thou do'st leave us poore,
And of those Joyes thou often do'st deprive us,
That with our selves doth set us at debate,
And makes us Beggers in our greatest state.

58

With such brave Raptures from her words that rise,
She made a breach in his impressive Brest,
And all his Pow'rs so fully did surprize,
As seem'd to rocke his Senses to their rest,
So that his Wit could not that thing devise,
Of which he thought his Soule was not possest;
Whose great abundance, like a swelling Flood
After a Showre, ran through his ravish'd Blood.

59

Like as a Lute, that's touch'd with curious skill,

A Simile of the mutuall Affections of Mortimer and the Queene.

Each string stretch'd up, his right Tone to retayne,
Musikes true Language that doth speake at will,
The Base and Treble married by the Meane,
Whose Sounds each Note with Harmonie doe fill,
Whether it be in Descant, or on Playne;
So their Affections, set in Keyes alike,
In true Concent meet, as their Humors strike.

60

As the plaine Path to their Designe appeares,
Of whose wish'd sight, they had been long debar'd,
By the dissolving of those threat'ning Feares,
That many a Purpose, many a Plot had mar'd;
Their Hope at full, so heartily them cheares,
And their Protection by a stronger Guard,
Lends them that leysure, the events to cast
Of things to come, by those alreadie past.

61

For this great Bus'nesse eas'ly setting out,

The cleanly Carriage of the French Businesse, by the Queene and her Faction.

By due proportion, measuring ev'ry pace,
T'avoid the cumbrance of each hind'ring Doubt;
And not to fayle of Comelinesse and Grace,
They came with every Circumstance about,
Observe the Person, as the Time, and Place;
Nor leave they ought, that in Discretions Lawes,
They could but thinke might beautifie the Cause.

62

Their Embassie deliv'ring in that height,
As of the same, the Dignitie might fit,
Apparelling a matter of that Weight,
In Ceremonie, well beseeming it;
And that it should goe steadily, and right,
They at their Audience no one Point omit,
As to the full each Tittle to effect,
That in such Cases Wisdome should respect.

63

Nor to negotiate, never doe they cease,
Till they againe that ancient League combine;
Yet so, that Edward should his Right release,
And to his Sonne the Provinces resigne:
With whom, King Charles concludes the happy Peace,
Having the homage due to him for Guyne;
And that both Realmes should ratifie their Deed,
They for both Kings an Enterview decreed.

64

Yet in this thing, which all Men thought so plaine,
And to have been accomplish'd with such care,
Their inward Falsehood hidden did remaine,

Colours of State many times deceivable, and (in truth) meere juggling.

Quite from the Colour that the Out-side bare:
For onely they this Enterview did gaine,
T'intrap the King, so trayned to their Snare;
For which, they knew that he must passe the Seas,
Or else the Prince, which better would them please.

65

Which by the Spensers was approved; who
(As in his Councels they did chiefely guide)
With him their Sov'raigne, nor to France durst goe,
Nor in his absence, durst at home abide;
Whilst the weake King stood doubtfull what to doe,
His list'ning Eares they with Perswasions plyde,
That he to stay, was absolutely wonne,
And for that Bus'nesse, to dispatch his Sonne.

66

The Bishop of Hereford, so oft before mentioned.

Thus is the King incompass'd by their skill,
And made to act what Torlton did devise,
Who thrust him on, to draw them up the Hill,
That by his strength they might get Power to rise,
For they in all things were before him still;
That perfect Steers-man in all Policies,
Had cast to walke, where Edward bare the Light,
And by his Ayme, he levelled their Sight.

67

Thus having made, what Edward most did will
For his Advantage, further their Intent,
With seeming Good so varnishing their Ill,
That it went currant by the faire Event,
And of their Hopes the utmost to fulfill;
Things in their course came in so true Concent,
To bring their Bus'nesse to that happie end,
That they the same might publiquely defend.

68

The precious Time no longer they protract,
Nor in suspence their Friends at home doe hold,
Being abroad so absolutely backt,
They quickly waxed confident and bold,
In their proceeding publishing their Act;
Nor did they feare to whom Report it told,
But with an armed and erected hand,
To abet their owne, did absolutely stand.

69

And that base Bishop then of Excester,

Walter Stapleton, then Bishop of Excester.

A Man experienc'd in their Counsels long,
(Thinking perhaps his Falsehood might preferre
Him, or else moved with King Edwards Wrong;
Or whether that his Frayletie made him erre,
Or other fatall Accident among:)
But he from France, and them, to England flew,
And knowing all, discover'd all he knew.

70

Their Treasons long in hatching, thus disclos'd,
And Torltons Drift by Circumstances found,
With what Conveyance things had beene dispos'd,
The Cunning us'd in casting of their ground,
The Frame as fit in every Point compos'd,
When better Counsell coldly came to sound,
Awak'd the King, to see his weake estate,
When the prevention came a day too late.

71

Yet her departing whilst she doth adjorne,
Charles, as a Brother, by perswasion deales,
Edward with Threats would force her to returne;
Pope John, her with his dreadfull Curse assayles:
But all in vaine against her Will they spurne,
Perswasion, Threat, nor Curse with her prevayles;
Charles, Edward, John, strive all to doe your worst,
The Queene fares best, when she the most is curst.

72

Which to the Spensers speedily made seene,
With what cleane sleight things had been brought about,
And that those here, which well might rul'd have beene,
Quickly had found, that they were gotten out,
And knowing well their Wit, their Power, and Spleene,
Of their owne Safeties much began to doubt,
And therefore must some present Meanes invent,
T'avoid a Danger, else most eminent.

73

When they, who had the Frenchmens Humors felt,
And knew the Bayt wherewith they might be caught,
By promise of large Pensions, with them dealt,
If that King Charles might from her Aid be wrought:
“What Mind so hard, that Money cannot melt?
Which they to passe in little time had brought;
That Isabel, too eas'ly over-way'd
By their great Summes, was frustrate of her Aid.

74

The invincible Courage of Queene Isabel.

Yet could not this amaze that mightie Queene,
(Whom sad Affliction never had control'd,
Never such Courage in that Sex was seene,
She was not cast in other Womens Mold)
Nor could rebate the edge of her high Spleene,
Who could endure Warre, Travell, Want, and Cold,
Struggling with Fortune, ne're by her opprest,
Most chearefull still, when she was most distrest.

75

But then resolv'd to leave ingratefull France,
And in the World her better Fate to trye,
Changing the Ayre, hopes Time may alter Chance,
Under her Burthen scorning so to lye,
Her weak'ned state still striving to advance,
Her mightie Mind flew in a Pitch so hye;
Yet ere she went, her vex'd Heart that did ake,
Somewhat to ease, thus to the King she spake:

76

Is this a Kings, a Brothers part (quoth shee?)

The Speech of the Queene, to the King her Brother, at her departing out of France.

And to this end, did I my Griefe unfold?
Came I to heale my wounded Heart to thee,
Where slaine out-right, I now the same behold?
Be these thy Vowes, thy Promises to me?
In all this Heat, art thou become so Cold?
To leave me thus forsaken at the worst,
My state at last, more wretched then at first.

77

Thy Wisdome weighing what my Wants require,
To thy deare Mercie might my Teares have ty'd,
Our Blouds receiving Heat both from one Fire;
And we by Fortune as by Birth ally'd,

Both vexed by the King of England.

My Sute supported by my just Desire,
Were Arguments not to have been deny'd;
The grievous Wrongs that in my Bosome bee,
Should be as neere thy Care, as I to thee.

78

Nature too eas'ly working on my Sex,
Thus at thy pleasure my poore Fortune leaves,
Which being intic'd with hopes of due respects
From thee, my Trust dishonestly deceives,
Who me and mine unnaturally neglects,
And of all Comfort lastly us bereaves;
What 'twixt thy Basenesse, and thy beastly Will,
T'expose thy Sister to the worst of Ill.

79

Her Prophecie was fulfilled by Edward the third, her Sonne, in his Conquest thereof; whose Sonne, Edward, the Blacke Prince, tooke King John of France at the Battell at Poycters, who died a Prisoner in England.

But for my Farwell, thus I prophecie,
That from my Wombe hee's sprung, or he shall spring,
Who shall subdue thy next Posteritie,
And lead a Captive thy succeeding King,
The just Revenge of thy vile Injurie;
To fatall France, I as a Sibyl sing
Her Cities Sacke, the slaughter of her Men,
Of whom, one Englishman shall conquer ten.

80

The Earle of Henault a Man of great Power.

The Earle of Henault, in that Season great,
The wealthie Lord of many a Warlike Tower,
Who, for his Friendship, Princes did intreat,
As fearing both his Policie, and Power,
Having a Brother wond'rously compleat,
Cal'd John of Beamount (in a happie Houre,

John of Henault, Lord Beamount.

As it for the distressed Queene did chance)
That time abiding in the Court of France.

81

He, there the while, this shuffling that had seene,
Who to her partie Isabel had wonne,
To passe for Henault, humbly prayes the Queene,
Prompting her still, what good might there be done,
To ease the anguish of her tumorous Spleene,
Offring his faire Neece to the Prince her Sonne,
The only way to winne his Brothers Might,
Against the King to backe her in her Right.

82

Who had an Eare, not fil'd with his Report,
To whom the Souldiers of that Time did throng,

John of Henault, the most eminent Spirit of those Times.

The Patterne to all other of his sort,
Well learn'd in what to Honour did belong,
With that brave Queene long trayned up in Court,
And constantly confirmed in her Wrong;
Besides all this, cross'd by the adverse Part,
In things that sat too neere to his great Heart.

83

Sufficient Motives to invite Distresse,
To apprehend so excellent a Meane,
(Against those Ills that did so strongly presse)
Whereon the Queene her weake estate might leane,
And at that Season, though it were the lesse,
Yet for a while it might her Want sustaine;
Untill th'approching of more prosp'rous dayes,
Her drouping Hopes to their first height might rayse.

84

When they at large had leysure to debate,
Where Welcome look'd with a well-pleased face,
From those Dis-honors she received late,
For there she wanted no obsequious grace,
Under the guidance of a gentler Fate,
All bounteous Offers freely they imbrace;

Prince Edward, after Edward the third, married Philip, the Earle of Henaults Daughter.

And to conclude, all Ceremonies past,
The Prince affyes faire Philip at the last.

85

All Covenants betwixt them surely seal'd,
Each to the other lastingly to bind,
Nothing but done with Equitie and Zeale,
And suting well with Henaults mightie Mind,
Which, to them all did much Content reveale;
The Ease the Queene was like thereby to find,
The Comfort comming to the lovely Bride,
Prince Edward pleas'd, and Joy on every side.

The end of the third Canto.