The Works of Michael Drayton Edited by J. William Hebel |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | III. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| IV. |
 | The Works of Michael Drayton |  |
261
MARY, THE FRENCH QUEENE, TO CHARLES BRANDON, DUKE OF SUFFOLKE.
The Argument.
Henry the eight, firme friendship to uniteWith France, bestowes the Lady Mary bright,
His younger sister, on King Lewes, then
Being lame and aged; but she of all Men,
Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolke, most affected,
One whom her Brother highly had respected,
And had advanc'd: but scarsely had she beene
Five months in France, when the brave beautious Queene
Buried the old King; who no sooner dead,
But she in Heart determining to wed
Her long-lov'd Brandon, this Epistle writes,
Who backe to her, the Answere soone indites.
Such health from Heav'n my selfe may wish to mee,
Such health from France Qu. Mary sends to thee.
Brandon, how long mak'st thou excuse to stay,
And know'st how ill we Women brooke delay?
If one poore Channell thus can part us two,
Tell me (unkind) what would an Ocean doe?
Leander had an Hellespont to swim,
Yet this from Hero could not hinder him;
His Barke (poore Soule) his Brest, his Armes, his Oares,
But thou a Ship, to land thee on our Shoares:
And opposite to famous Kent, doth lie
The pleasant Fields of flowrie Picardie,
Where our faire Callice, walled in her Sands,
In kenning of the Cliffie Dover stands.
Such health from France Qu. Mary sends to thee.
Brandon, how long mak'st thou excuse to stay,
And know'st how ill we Women brooke delay?
If one poore Channell thus can part us two,
Tell me (unkind) what would an Ocean doe?
Leander had an Hellespont to swim,
Yet this from Hero could not hinder him;
His Barke (poore Soule) his Brest, his Armes, his Oares,
But thou a Ship, to land thee on our Shoares:
And opposite to famous Kent, doth lie
The pleasant Fields of flowrie Picardie,
Where our faire Callice, walled in her Sands,
In kenning of the Cliffie Dover stands.
Here is no Beldam Nurse, to powt nor lowre,
When wantoning, we revell in my Towre;
Nor need I top my Turret with a Light,
To guide thee to me, as thou swim'st by Night;
Compar'd with me, wert thou but halfe so kind,
Thy Sighs should stuffe thy Sayles, though wanting Wind:
But thy Brest is becalm'd, thy Sighs be slacke,
And mine too stiffe, and blow thy broad Sayles backe.
But thou wilt say, that I should blame the Floud,
Because the Wind so full against thee stood:
Nay, blame it not, that it did roughly blow,
For it did chide thee, for thou wast so slow;
For it came not to keepe thee in the Bay,
But came from me, to bid thee come away:
But that thou vainely let'st occasion slide,
Thou might'st have wafted hither with the Tide.
If when thou com'st, I knit mine angry Brow,
Blame me not, Brandon, thou hast broke thy Vow;
Yet if I meant to frowne, I might be dumbe,
For this may make thee stand in doubt to come:
Nay come, sweet Charles, have care thy Ship to guide,
Come, my sweet Heart, in faith I will not chide.
When wantoning, we revell in my Towre;
Nor need I top my Turret with a Light,
To guide thee to me, as thou swim'st by Night;
262
Thy Sighs should stuffe thy Sayles, though wanting Wind:
But thy Brest is becalm'd, thy Sighs be slacke,
And mine too stiffe, and blow thy broad Sayles backe.
But thou wilt say, that I should blame the Floud,
Because the Wind so full against thee stood:
Nay, blame it not, that it did roughly blow,
For it did chide thee, for thou wast so slow;
For it came not to keepe thee in the Bay,
But came from me, to bid thee come away:
But that thou vainely let'st occasion slide,
Thou might'st have wafted hither with the Tide.
If when thou com'st, I knit mine angry Brow,
Blame me not, Brandon, thou hast broke thy Vow;
Yet if I meant to frowne, I might be dumbe,
For this may make thee stand in doubt to come:
Nay come, sweet Charles, have care thy Ship to guide,
Come, my sweet Heart, in faith I will not chide.
When as my Brother and his lovely Queene,
In sad attyre for my depart were seene,
The utmost date expired of my stay,
When I from Dover did depart away;
Thou know'st what Woe I suff'red for thy sake,
How oft I fain'd, of thee my leave to take;
God and thou know'st, with what a heavie Heart
I tooke my farewell, when I should depart;
And being ship'd, gave signall with my Hand
Up to the Cliffe, where I did see thee stand;
Nor could refraine, in all the peoples view,
But cryed to thee, Sweet Charles, adiew, adiew.
Looke how a little Infant, that hath lost
The thing wherewith it was delighted most,
Wearie with seeking, to some corner creepes,
And there (poore Soule) it sits it downe and weepes;
And when the Nurse would faine content the mind,
Yet still it mournes, for that it cannot find:
Thus in my carefull Cabbin did I lye,
When as the Ship out of the Road did flie.
In sad attyre for my depart were seene,
The utmost date expired of my stay,
When I from Dover did depart away;
Thou know'st what Woe I suff'red for thy sake,
How oft I fain'd, of thee my leave to take;
God and thou know'st, with what a heavie Heart
I tooke my farewell, when I should depart;
And being ship'd, gave signall with my Hand
Up to the Cliffe, where I did see thee stand;
Nor could refraine, in all the peoples view,
But cryed to thee, Sweet Charles, adiew, adiew.
Looke how a little Infant, that hath lost
The thing wherewith it was delighted most,
Wearie with seeking, to some corner creepes,
And there (poore Soule) it sits it downe and weepes;
And when the Nurse would faine content the mind,
Yet still it mournes, for that it cannot find:
Thus in my carefull Cabbin did I lye,
When as the Ship out of the Road did flie.
263
It was agreed and concluded betwixt Henry the seventh, and Philip, King of Castile, sonne to Maximilian the Emperour, That Charles, eldest sonne of the said Philip, should marrie the Lady Mary, daughter to King Henry, when they came to age: Which agreement was afterward, in the eight yeere of Henry the eight, annihilated.
When young Castile to England su'd for mee?
Be judge thy selfe, if it were not of power,
When I refus'd an Empire for my Dower.
To Englands Court, when once report did bring,
How thou in France didst revell with the King,
Henry the eight, after the long Siege of Turney, which was delivered to him upon Composition, entred the Citie in Triumph, under a Canopie of Cloth of Gold, borne by foure of the Chiefe and most Noble Citizens; the King himselfe mounted upon a gallant Courser barbed with the Armes of England, France, and Ireland.
Under a rich imbrod'red Canopie,
Entred proud Tournay, which did trembling stand,
To beg for mercie at his conqu'ring hand;
To heare of his endeerements, how I joy'd?
But see, this calme was suddenly destroy'd.
The King being at Turney, there came to him the Prince of Castile, and the Lady Margaret, Duches of Savoy, his Sister, to whom King Henry gave great entertainment.
With him his sister, that ambitious Dame,
Savoy's proud Duches, knowing how long she
All meanes had try'd to winne my love from me;
Fearing my absence might thy vowes acquite,
To change thy Mary for a Margarite,
The King caused a rich Tent of Cloth of Gold to be erected, where he feasted the Prince of Castile, and the Duches, and intertained them with sumptuous Maskes and Banquets, during their abode.
She often did thee in her armes enfold;
Where you were feasted more deliciously,
Then Cleopatra did Marke Anthony,
Where sports all day did intertaine your sight,
And then in Maskes you pass'd away the night.
But thou wilt say, 'tis proper unto us,
That we by nature all are jealous:
“I must confesse 'tis oft found in our Sex,
“But who not love, not any thing suspects:
“True love doth looke with pale suspitions eye,
“Take away love, if you take jealousie.
Turwin and Turney when King Henry tooke,
For this great change who then did ever looke?
When Maximilian to those warres addrest,
Ware Englands Crosse on his Imperiall brest,
And in our armie let his Eagle flie,
That view'd our Ensignes with a wond'ring eye,
Little thought I when Bullen first was won,
Wedlocke should end, what angry Warre begun.
From which I vow, I yet am free in thought,
But this alone by Wolseies wit was wrought.
To his advice the King gave free consent;
That will I, nill I, I must be content.
My Virgins right, thy state could not advance,
But now enriched with the Dower of France;
Then, but poore Suffolkes Duches had I beene,
Now, the great Dowager, the most Christian Queene.
But I perceive where all thy Griefe doth lie,
Lewes of France had my Virginitie;
He had indeed, but shall I tell thee what,
Beleeve me, Brandon, he had scarcely that:
Good feeble King, he could not doe much harme,
But Age must needs have something that is warme;
“Small drops (God knowes) doe quench that heatlesse fire,
“When all the strength is onely in desire.
And I could tell (if Modestie might tell)
There's somewhat else that pleaseth Lovers well;
To rest his Cheeke upon my softer Cheeke,
Was all he had, and more he did not seeke;
So might the little Baby clip the Nurse,
And it content, she never a whit the worse:
Then thinke this, Brandon, if that make thee frowne,
For Maydenhead, he on my Head set a Crowne.
Who would not change a Kingdome for a Kisse?
Hard were the Heart that would not yeeld him this;
And time yet halfe so swiftly doth not passe,
Not yet full five moneths elder then I was.
For this great change who then did ever looke?
Maximilian the Emperour, with all his Souldiers, which served under King Henry, wore the Crosse of Saint George, with the Rose on their Brests.
Ware Englands Crosse on his Imperiall brest,
And in our armie let his Eagle flie,
That view'd our Ensignes with a wond'ring eye,
Little thought I when Bullen first was won,
Wedlocke should end, what angry Warre begun.
264
Thomas Wolsey, the Kings Almoner, then Bishop of Lincolne, a Man of great Authoritie with the King, and afterward Cardinall, was the chiefe cause that this Lady Mary was married to the old French King, with whom the French had dealt under-hand, to befriend him in that Match.
To his advice the King gave free consent;
That will I, nill I, I must be content.
My Virgins right, thy state could not advance,
But now enriched with the Dower of France;
Then, but poore Suffolkes Duches had I beene,
Now, the great Dowager, the most Christian Queene.
But I perceive where all thy Griefe doth lie,
Lewes of France had my Virginitie;
He had indeed, but shall I tell thee what,
Beleeve me, Brandon, he had scarcely that:
Good feeble King, he could not doe much harme,
But Age must needs have something that is warme;
“Small drops (God knowes) doe quench that heatlesse fire,
“When all the strength is onely in desire.
And I could tell (if Modestie might tell)
There's somewhat else that pleaseth Lovers well;
To rest his Cheeke upon my softer Cheeke,
Was all he had, and more he did not seeke;
So might the little Baby clip the Nurse,
And it content, she never a whit the worse:
Then thinke this, Brandon, if that make thee frowne,
For Maydenhead, he on my Head set a Crowne.
Who would not change a Kingdome for a Kisse?
Hard were the Heart that would not yeeld him this;
And time yet halfe so swiftly doth not passe,
Not yet full five moneths elder then I was.
When thou to France conducted wast by Fame,
With many Knights which from all Countries came,
To see me at Saint Dennis on my Throne,
Where Lewes held my Coronation;
Where the proud Dolphin, for thy valour sake,
Chose thee at Tilt his Princely part to take;
When as the Staves upon thy Caske did light,
Grieved therewith, I turn'd away my sight,
And spake aloud, when I my selfe forgot,
'Tis my sweet Charles, my Brandon, hurt him not:
But when I fear'd the King perceived this,
Good silly Man, I pleas'd him with a Kisse,
And to extoll his valiant Sonne began,
That Europe never bred a braver Man;
And when (poore King) he simply praysed thee,
Of all the rest I ask'd which thou shouldst bee?
Thus I with him dissembled for thy sake,
Open confession now amends must make.
Whilst this old King upon a Pallat lyes,
And onely holds a combat with mine Eyes;
Mine Eyes from his, by thy sight stolne away,
Which might too well their Mistres Thoughts bewray.
But when I saw thy proud unconquer'd Launce
To beare the prize from all the flow'r of France;
To see what pleasure did my Soule imbrace,
Might eas'ly be discerned in my Face.
Looke, as the Dew upon a Damaske Rose,
How through that liquid pearle his blushing showes,
And when the soft ayre breathes upon his top,
From the sweet Leaves falls eas'ly drop by drop;
Thus by my Cheeke, distilling from mine Eyes,
One Teare for Joy anothers Roome supplyes.
With many Knights which from all Countries came,
To see me at Saint Dennis on my Throne,
Where Lewes held my Coronation;
Where the proud Dolphin, for thy valour sake,
Chose thee at Tilt his Princely part to take;
When as the Staves upon thy Caske did light,
Grieved therewith, I turn'd away my sight,
And spake aloud, when I my selfe forgot,
'Tis my sweet Charles, my Brandon, hurt him not:
265
Good silly Man, I pleas'd him with a Kisse,
And to extoll his valiant Sonne began,
That Europe never bred a braver Man;
And when (poore King) he simply praysed thee,
Of all the rest I ask'd which thou shouldst bee?
Thus I with him dissembled for thy sake,
Open confession now amends must make.
Whilst this old King upon a Pallat lyes,
And onely holds a combat with mine Eyes;
Mine Eyes from his, by thy sight stolne away,
Which might too well their Mistres Thoughts bewray.
But when I saw thy proud unconquer'd Launce
To beare the prize from all the flow'r of France;
To see what pleasure did my Soule imbrace,
Might eas'ly be discerned in my Face.
Looke, as the Dew upon a Damaske Rose,
How through that liquid pearle his blushing showes,
And when the soft ayre breathes upon his top,
From the sweet Leaves falls eas'ly drop by drop;
Thus by my Cheeke, distilling from mine Eyes,
One Teare for Joy anothers Roome supplyes.
Before mine Eye (like Touch) thy shape did prove,
Mine Eye condemn'd my too too partiall Love;
But since by others I the same doe trie,
My Love condemnes my too too partiall Eye.
The precious stone, most beautifull and rare,
When with it selfe we onely it compare,
We deeme all other of that kind to be
As excellent, as that we onely see;
But when we judge of that, with others by,
Too credulous we doe condemne our Eye,
Which then appeares more orient, and more bright,
Having a Foyle whereon to shew its light.
Alanson, a fine timb'red Man, and tall,
Yet wants the shape thou art adorn'd withall;
Vandome good Carriage, and a pleasing Eye,
Yet hath not Suffolk's Princely Majestie;
Couragious Burbon, a sweet Manly Face,
Yet in his Lookes lacks Brandons Courtly Grace.
Proud Longavile suppos'd to have no Peere,
A Man scarse made was thought, whilst thou wast here.
County Saint-Paul, our best at Armes in France,
Would yeeld himselfe a Squire, to beare thy Lance.
Galleas and Bounarme, matchlesse for their might,
Under thy towring Blade have couch'd in fight.
Mine Eye condemn'd my too too partiall Love;
But since by others I the same doe trie,
My Love condemnes my too too partiall Eye.
The precious stone, most beautifull and rare,
When with it selfe we onely it compare,
We deeme all other of that kind to be
As excellent, as that we onely see;
But when we judge of that, with others by,
Too credulous we doe condemne our Eye,
Which then appeares more orient, and more bright,
Having a Foyle whereon to shew its light.
Alanson, a fine timb'red Man, and tall,
Yet wants the shape thou art adorn'd withall;
Vandome good Carriage, and a pleasing Eye,
Yet hath not Suffolk's Princely Majestie;
266
Yet in his Lookes lacks Brandons Courtly Grace.
Proud Longavile suppos'd to have no Peere,
A Man scarse made was thought, whilst thou wast here.
County Saint-Paul, our best at Armes in France,
Would yeeld himselfe a Squire, to beare thy Lance.
This County Galeas, at the Justs ranne a Course with a Speare, which was at the Head five ynches square on every side, and at the But nine ynches square, whereby he shewed his wondrous force and strength. This Bounarme, a Gentleman of France, at the same time came into the field, armed at all points, with tenne Speares about him: in each Stirrop three, under each Thigh one, one under his left Arme, and one in his Hand; and putting his Horse to the Careere, never stopped him, till he had broken every Staffe. Hall.
Under thy towring Blade have couch'd in fight.
If with our Love my Brother angry bee,
Ile say, to please him, I first fancied thee,
And but to frame my liking to his mind,
Never to thee had I beene halfe so kind.
Worthy my Love, the vulgar judge no Man,
Except a Yorkist, or Lancastrian;
Nor thinke, that my affection should be set,
But in the Line of great Plantaginet.
I passe not what the idle Commons say,
I pray thee Charles make haste, and come away.
To thee what's England, if I be not there?
Or what to me is France, if thou not here?
Thy absence makes me angry for a while,
But at thy presence I should gladly smile.
Ile say, to please him, I first fancied thee,
And but to frame my liking to his mind,
Never to thee had I beene halfe so kind.
Worthy my Love, the vulgar judge no Man,
Except a Yorkist, or Lancastrian;
Nor thinke, that my affection should be set,
But in the Line of great Plantaginet.
I passe not what the idle Commons say,
I pray thee Charles make haste, and come away.
To thee what's England, if I be not there?
Or what to me is France, if thou not here?
Thy absence makes me angry for a while,
But at thy presence I should gladly smile.
When last of me, his leave my Brandon tooke,
He sware an Oath (and made my Lips the Booke)
He would make haste, which now thou do'st denie;
Thou art forsworne: O wilfull Perjurie!
Sooner would I with greater sinnes dispence,
Then by intreatie pardon this Offence.
But yet I thinke, if I should come to shrive thee,
Great were the Fault that I should not forgive thee:
Yet wert thou here, I should revenged bee,
But it should be with too much loving thee.
I, that is all that thou shalt feare to taste;
I pray thee Brandon come, sweet Charles, make haste.
He sware an Oath (and made my Lips the Booke)
He would make haste, which now thou do'st denie;
Thou art forsworne: O wilfull Perjurie!
Sooner would I with greater sinnes dispence,
Then by intreatie pardon this Offence.
But yet I thinke, if I should come to shrive thee,
Great were the Fault that I should not forgive thee:
Yet wert thou here, I should revenged bee,
But it should be with too much loving thee.
I, that is all that thou shalt feare to taste;
I pray thee Brandon come, sweet Charles, make haste.
| The Works of Michael Drayton | |