The poems of George Daniel ... From the original mss. in the British Museum: Hitherto unprinted. Edited, with introduction, notes, and illustrations, portrait, &c. By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart: In four volumes |
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 | The poems of George Daniel |  |
125
Vervicensis:
A Poeme;
Written by the same Author: 1.6.3.9.
Vixere Fortes ante Agamemnona
Multi; sed omnes illachrimabiles
Vrgentur, ignotique longa
Nocte; carent quia vate sacro.
Multi; sed omnes illachrimabiles
Vrgentur, ignotique longa
Nocte; carent quia vate sacro.
127
Vervicensis.
The Argument and Apologie to the Poeme.
V: V: arwicke appears: a Sullen Ghost
V: nto this Poet. Seemes to boast
L: awles rebellion; and make good
I: niustice. To be vnderstood
M: ore clearlie, the first ground was laid
I: n Confidence the Royall Head
V: nto this Poet. Seemes to boast
L: awles rebellion; and make good
I: niustice. To be vnderstood
M: ore clearlie, the first ground was laid
I: n Confidence the Royall Head
V: V: ould be remisse. Vnhappie Those
V: V: ho worke theire Ends where they suppose
L: enitie an Encouragement.
I: n all this Scene, our Argument
I: s not to move pretences, how
D: esignes may be revivéd now.
V: V: ho worke theire Ends where they suppose
L: enitie an Encouragement.
I: n all this Scene, our Argument
I: s not to move pretences, how
D: esignes may be revivéd now.
M.D.L.L.V.V.V.V.V.V.V.I.I.I.I.
A fleeting Shadow, in the horrid Vale
Of Erebus, comes to revisit Light,
In hope of Comfort. I am set to waile
In the darke Confines of Eternall Night;
And, Mortall! know I must, if thou now faile,
In Charitie, t' enlarge my haples Spright,—
Wander vpon the grislye Stigian Shore,
Vnheard, vnpittied; mourning Evermore.
Of Erebus, comes to revisit Light,
In hope of Comfort. I am set to waile
In the darke Confines of Eternall Night;
And, Mortall! know I must, if thou now faile,
In Charitie, t' enlarge my haples Spright,—
Wander vpon the grislye Stigian Shore,
Vnheard, vnpittied; mourning Evermore.
128
What have I done? ah, what have I misdone?
Am I forgot on Earth? where once I stood,
A Second Atlas, to support the Throne;
And gvide the Kingdome, as my selfe thought good;
Is that great Power forgotten? Will there none
Revive my glories? Shall I sinke in mudde
Of dismall Lethe? and my Glorie fall
To Time a Spoile? as I had none at all.
Am I forgot on Earth? where once I stood,
A Second Atlas, to support the Throne;
And gvide the Kingdome, as my selfe thought good;
Is that great Power forgotten? Will there none
Revive my glories? Shall I sinke in mudde
Of dismall Lethe? and my Glorie fall
To Time a Spoile? as I had none at all.
What boot's it then to be of Noble race?
What to be Wise? What to be valiant?
Or what to stand in Fortune's highest grace?
Seeing, in Death they fall. I, who could vant
Her favours with the best, must now give place.
Vnhappie that I am, thus long to want
My Convoy over the infernall Foorde;
Where happie Soules get waftage, with a Worde.
What to be Wise? What to be valiant?
Or what to stand in Fortune's highest grace?
Seeing, in Death they fall. I, who could vant
Her favours with the best, must now give place.
Vnhappie that I am, thus long to want
My Convoy over the infernall Foorde;
Where happie Soules get waftage, with a Worde.
The Surlie Ferriman denies mee passe,
And twitts my great Name with disgracefull words;
Tells me (to vexe my Soule) how great I was.
Once able to Engage ten thousand Swords,
And Create victorie; rul'd by the glasse
Of poasting Time, a Suppliant at his Foords;
I only hang vpon the Lipps of Fame,
Vnworthy of my once renownéd Name.
And twitts my great Name with disgracefull words;
Tells me (to vexe my Soule) how great I was.
Once able to Engage ten thousand Swords,
And Create victorie; rul'd by the glasse
Of poasting Time, a Suppliant at his Foords;
I only hang vpon the Lipps of Fame,
Vnworthy of my once renownéd Name.
129
Oh the Decree (I dare not say vniust)
Of Fate! which gvides the vniverse, and gives
To some Men greater Favours vpon trust.
Am I the only Abiect? Shall my griefes
Bee lost in Ayre? Must, must, ah never must
I hope to be a partnerre in the lives
Of happie Names? Shall my afflicted Soule
Bee fixéd here, Eternally to houle?
Of Fate! which gvides the vniverse, and gives
To some Men greater Favours vpon trust.
Am I the only Abiect? Shall my griefes
Bee lost in Ayre? Must, must, ah never must
I hope to be a partnerre in the lives
Of happie Names? Shall my afflicted Soule
Bee fixéd here, Eternally to houle?
This only rests: a Poet must reherse
Mee to the world, and offer vp my name
In the bright Colours of immortall verse;
A Sacrifize to a ne're-dying Fame:
Here rest my hopes; for only these can peirce
Rutheles Infernalls; these, can only tame
Hell's Bandog, in his furie, and command
Charon to waft mee to that happie Land.
Mee to the world, and offer vp my name
In the bright Colours of immortall verse;
A Sacrifize to a ne're-dying Fame:
Here rest my hopes; for only these can peirce
Rutheles Infernalls; these, can only tame
Hell's Bandog, in his furie, and command
Charon to waft mee to that happie Land.
Could I obtaine this, I were happie Ever;
Then might I freelie Solace in the feilds
Of bright Securitie, where Death comes never;
Where everie obiect all Contentment yeilds;
Where God-like Heroes reioyce together;
And All in vnion live; where Iustice weilds
An vncontrolléd Scepter, and disposeth
In Equall parts, that none can say, he looseth.
Then might I freelie Solace in the feilds
Of bright Securitie, where Death comes never;
Where everie obiect all Contentment yeilds;
Where God-like Heroes reioyce together;
And All in vnion live; where Iustice weilds
An vncontrolléd Scepter, and disposeth
In Equall parts, that none can say, he looseth.
130
Some gentle Muse, (in pittie of my Tears)
Make it your Taske, my bright and active Storie;
I Envie none you did or doe reherse,
But I esteeme mine Equall to their glorie.
Scarce anye, but they gaine the Life of verse,
Vnask't, vnsought for; yet (alas) implore I,
And find noe Ayde; I who could once have had
Liveing, ten thousand Hands, now want one Dead.
Make it your Taske, my bright and active Storie;
I Envie none you did or doe reherse,
But I esteeme mine Equall to their glorie.
Scarce anye, but they gaine the Life of verse,
Vnask't, vnsought for; yet (alas) implore I,
And find noe Ayde; I who could once have had
Liveing, ten thousand Hands, now want one Dead.
One hand to save me from the gapeing Iawes
Of blacke oblivion; and my name preserve
By force of Numbers, which revert the Lawes
Of Destinie. Doth not my Name deserve
A place of mention? Oh, what Envie drawes
Or what Affection gvides you, that I sterve
Neglected? Loe, they live, whose bones are rotten;
Only Great Warwicke's Name you have forgotten.
Of blacke oblivion; and my name preserve
By force of Numbers, which revert the Lawes
Of Destinie. Doth not my Name deserve
A place of mention? Oh, what Envie drawes
Or what Affection gvides you, that I sterve
Neglected? Loe, they live, whose bones are rotten;
Only Great Warwicke's Name you have forgotten.
In the Domesticke Iarrs, the Civill broiles
Of Faction, you may read of Warwicke's Name,
In bloodie Letters written; where the Spoyles
Of a Sad Kingdome fills the mouth of Fame
With giddye Rumor; and the haples toyles
Of Natives, stand distracted, as they came,
How to resolve. In midst of these, descrye
Great Warwicke's Name; which Warwicke once was I.
Of Faction, you may read of Warwicke's Name,
In bloodie Letters written; where the Spoyles
Of a Sad Kingdome fills the mouth of Fame
With giddye Rumor; and the haples toyles
Of Natives, stand distracted, as they came,
How to resolve. In midst of these, descrye
Great Warwicke's Name; which Warwicke once was I.
131
I was a Yorkist, and I gave the fire
To this great Clap; my Youth and Spirrit then
Tooke an Occasion, that I might aspire
Into the good Opinion of Men;
'Twas I that first gave hope to his desire,
And made the Action live; rais'd him vp, when
Hee would have Slept, and let his Title fall;
I was his Strength, his hope, his All in All.
To this great Clap; my Youth and Spirrit then
Tooke an Occasion, that I might aspire
Into the good Opinion of Men;
'Twas I that first gave hope to his desire,
And made the Action live; rais'd him vp, when
Hee would have Slept, and let his Title fall;
I was his Strength, his hope, his All in All.
The King neglects his Title; whilest wee wrought
Vpon the Anvile of his patience;
And Secret Plotts now into Action brought;
But yet, to give our Treason some pretence
Of Iustice, Yorke averrs he only sought
Publicke redress against the vile offence
Of Somerset and others; thus he Came
An humble Suppliant, in the People's Name.
Vpon the Anvile of his patience;
And Secret Plotts now into Action brought;
But yet, to give our Treason some pretence
Of Iustice, Yorke averrs he only sought
Publicke redress against the vile offence
Of Somerset and others; thus he Came
An humble Suppliant, in the People's Name.
For that he should (as manie would suggest)
Ayme at the Scepter, or old Titles bringe,
To gull the Multitude; his loyall brest
Would rather breake, then harbour such a thing:
Noe! thinke not, Harrie, (saies he) but I Reste
With a pleas'd Soule, to looke vpon my Kinge.
This gave it varnish to the world, and tooke
The good King, who iudg'd onlie by the looke.
Ayme at the Scepter, or old Titles bringe,
To gull the Multitude; his loyall brest
Would rather breake, then harbour such a thing:
Noe! thinke not, Harrie, (saies he) but I Reste
With a pleas'd Soule, to looke vpon my Kinge.
This gave it varnish to the world, and tooke
The good King, who iudg'd onlie by the looke.
132
Thus satisfied, Hee thinkes it is but iust
His Cozen Yorke should orderlie proceede,
When Somerset steps forth. Great Sir, and must
Your Actions fall to Censure? let me bleed;
I feare not death, to serve you; but I trust
You cannot fall, to let a Rebell tread
In your dishonour; let him know your power,—
His pride,—to stand the King's Competitor.
His Cozen Yorke should orderlie proceede,
When Somerset steps forth. Great Sir, and must
Your Actions fall to Censure? let me bleed;
I feare not death, to serve you; but I trust
You cannot fall, to let a Rebell tread
In your dishonour; let him know your power,—
His pride,—to stand the King's Competitor.
Not Sir, but I dare suffer in a Cause
Where all my fault is but my Zeale to you;
I gladly fall vnto your Equall Lawes,
In verdict of my Peers; but you may know
Another reach; see how his Title drawes.
My Leige, 'tis too apparent; either goe
And cut him Short, depising his faire offer,
Or (my Soule's-torment) in dishonour suffer.
Where all my fault is but my Zeale to you;
I gladly fall vnto your Equall Lawes,
In verdict of my Peers; but you may know
Another reach; see how his Title drawes.
My Leige, 'tis too apparent; either goe
And cut him Short, depising his faire offer,
Or (my Soule's-torment) in dishonour suffer.
Buckingham vrges it, in the same way;
You are a King; or be soe, or be none.
Meet him with all your power, and let a Day
Stand Arbiter betwixt you, for the Throne;
Give, give him Battle, all the Lords now Say.
The King stands in Dilemma of his owne;
Hee would, yet would not grant; he would refuse
But not denie; till they inforce it thus.
You are a King; or be soe, or be none.
Meet him with all your power, and let a Day
Stand Arbiter betwixt you, for the Throne;
Give, give him Battle, all the Lords now Say.
The King stands in Dilemma of his owne;
Hee would, yet would not grant; he would refuse
But not denie; till they inforce it thus.
133
For Shame, Sr, see the danger; what a Staine
Vnto your Blood! what a nere-dying taint
(Shall it to all Posteritie remaine
In your remissnes,) to the Line of Gant!
Wee loose our words, whilest they come on amaine:
Meet the Stout Rebel, make proud Yorke recant
His follie. Sir, you trifle. Thus the King,
Will he, or nill he, they to battle bring.
Vnto your Blood! what a nere-dying taint
(Shall it to all Posteritie remaine
In your remissnes,) to the Line of Gant!
Wee loose our words, whilest they come on amaine:
Meet the Stout Rebel, make proud Yorke recant
His follie. Sir, you trifle. Thus the King,
Will he, or nill he, they to battle bring.
But it were tedious, if I should relate
The Circumstance of everie Action.
I only glance at these, and rather treat,
In my owne Storie, what my selfe have done;
How once I merited the name of great;
What fame I got, what victories I won;
How once I gave, and tooke, (not prettie things
But) Crownes and Scepters; made and vnmade Kings.
The Circumstance of everie Action.
I only glance at these, and rather treat,
In my owne Storie, what my selfe have done;
How once I merited the name of great;
What fame I got, what victories I won;
How once I gave, and tooke, (not prettie things
But) Crownes and Scepters; made and vnmade Kings.
Wittnes St. Alban's, in the overthrowe
Of Harrie's forces; wittnes, in the fall
Of Mignion Somerset. Historians know
If Warwicke be forgotten here: you all
Have gull'd Posteritie; I gave the blow;
And let me tell you, Yorke himselfe would call
My Arme his victorie, and say I stoode
A Bulwarke to the Title in his Bloode.
Of Harrie's forces; wittnes, in the fall
Of Mignion Somerset. Historians know
If Warwicke be forgotten here: you all
Have gull'd Posteritie; I gave the blow;
And let me tell you, Yorke himselfe would call
My Arme his victorie, and say I stoode
A Bulwarke to the Title in his Bloode.
134
The King retires, his Armie put to rout;
And Yorke (pretending it to be in Zeale),
Seekes an attonement, having found him out.
Hee takes it kindlie, and accounts it well,
To purchase Qviet, and secure his doubt;
But Yorke had higher Aymes. The weake King fell
Into a second Non-age. Yorke must sitt
As Lord Protector; and Hee suffers it.
And Yorke (pretending it to be in Zeale),
Seekes an attonement, having found him out.
Hee takes it kindlie, and accounts it well,
To purchase Qviet, and secure his doubt;
But Yorke had higher Aymes. The weake King fell
Into a second Non-age. Yorke must sitt
As Lord Protector; and Hee suffers it.
But the Virago Qveen, (who could resent
A lesse indignitie,) doth aggravate
Th' aggreivéd Lords, and to their discontent
Adds a disgrac'd King, a deforméd State.
(Women are moveing orators,) she Spent
Her words to purpose; and determins straight,
By force, to right the greivance; and once more
T' enthrone the King, Sole Monarch, as before.
A lesse indignitie,) doth aggravate
Th' aggreivéd Lords, and to their discontent
Adds a disgrac'd King, a deforméd State.
(Women are moveing orators,) she Spent
Her words to purpose; and determins straight,
By force, to right the greivance; and once more
T' enthrone the King, Sole Monarch, as before.
She cannot suffer what the Husband can;
And my great Name was horror to her Soule;
(But set beyond the measure of her Span;)
She cannot suffer Warwicke. 'Twas a foule
Dishonour to the Realme, to let a man,
An Enemie, have govern'ment and rule.
Shall Yorke sitt Regent? and proud Warwicke keepe
The strength of Callice? meacocke King, you sleepe.
And my great Name was horror to her Soule;
(But set beyond the measure of her Span;)
She cannot suffer Warwicke. 'Twas a foule
Dishonour to the Realme, to let a man,
An Enemie, have govern'ment and rule.
Shall Yorke sitt Regent? and proud Warwicke keepe
The strength of Callice? meacocke King, you sleepe.
135
She vrges him againe, and makes him take,
Once more, the feild, against the power of Yorke.
The Second Time they meet; now like to make
A finall End of all, and seale the worke.
Now Yorke and Lancaster are at the Stake!
Oh, horrid fate! Can such a Treason lurke
In Trollop's heart? Ah, he's revolted, lost
In Coward Thoughts, whom once I trusted most.
Once more, the feild, against the power of Yorke.
The Second Time they meet; now like to make
A finall End of all, and seale the worke.
Now Yorke and Lancaster are at the Stake!
Oh, horrid fate! Can such a Treason lurke
In Trollop's heart? Ah, he's revolted, lost
In Coward Thoughts, whom once I trusted most.
And thus wee lost the Day. The Iollye Qveene
Thinkes the Storme past; and by a Parliament
Repeals, restores, as best to her was seene;
Confers place, Honour, office, Government,
At her owne likeing; and with others, mine;
Which Somerset must have, to that end sent.
But Stay, yonge Sr: carrie your Mrs: word,
You cannot have it; ther's a stronger Sword.
Thinkes the Storme past; and by a Parliament
Repeals, restores, as best to her was seene;
Confers place, Honour, office, Government,
At her owne likeing; and with others, mine;
Which Somerset must have, to that end sent.
But Stay, yonge Sr: carrie your Mrs: word,
You cannot have it; ther's a stronger Sword.
Againe the Fire breakes out, and in the Claime
Of Yorke, I take the feilde, well furnishéd
With able Souldiers; to whom dailie came
Supplies from everie Qvarter; whether led
By faction, or to gratulate my name,
(Which glorious then to all the world was spread,)
I know not; but I then stood in the feild
'Bove twice twelve thousand, that did weapons weild.
Of Yorke, I take the feilde, well furnishéd
With able Souldiers; to whom dailie came
Supplies from everie Qvarter; whether led
By faction, or to gratulate my name,
(Which glorious then to all the world was spread,)
I know not; but I then stood in the feild
'Bove twice twelve thousand, that did weapons weild.
136
The Qveene against me came, with all her Power;
(For the good King had almost lost his Name;)
The Armies meet, (in an vnluckie hower)
Nere to Northampton. Now the Blab of ffame
Magnifies Warwicke; and that Action sure
Had bene Enough to give all valour fflame.
Hearke, musicke to my Soule, the Soldiers crye
Warwicke for Yorke, Warwicke and victorye.
(For the good King had almost lost his Name;)
The Armies meet, (in an vnluckie hower)
Nere to Northampton. Now the Blab of ffame
Magnifies Warwicke; and that Action sure
Had bene Enough to give all valour fflame.
Hearke, musicke to my Soule, the Soldiers crye
Warwicke for Yorke, Warwicke and victorye.
The Qveene flyes North-ward; Yorke, in Parliament,
Vrges his right in blood; againe is made
Protector of the Kinge; and by consent
Proclaim'd heir to the Crowne. The Qveen gets ayde
Once more, to trye the Hazard of Event.
Yorke gives her battell, to his Losse; way-layd
And misinforméd of their Strength, he tryes
The chance of Battle; Crown's the worke, and Dyes.
Vrges his right in blood; againe is made
Protector of the Kinge; and by consent
Proclaim'd heir to the Crowne. The Qveen gets ayde
Once more, to trye the Hazard of Event.
Yorke gives her battell, to his Losse; way-layd
And misinforméd of their Strength, he tryes
The chance of Battle; Crown's the worke, and Dyes.
Dyed, and with him my noble Father fell.
Ah, then where was I? where was Warwicke then,
When Reiner's Daughter triumph't? Oh the Hell
Of Destinie! Shall I be absent, when
I were most vsefull? Shall proud Marg'ret tell
Her Boasts in Salisburie? that Man of Men.
Noe, know proud Qveene, these stand to doe the worke:
Warwicke, and March, for Salisburie and Yorke.
Ah, then where was I? where was Warwicke then,
When Reiner's Daughter triumph't? Oh the Hell
Of Destinie! Shall I be absent, when
I were most vsefull? Shall proud Marg'ret tell
Her Boasts in Salisburie? that Man of Men.
Noe, know proud Qveene, these stand to doe the worke:
Warwicke, and March, for Salisburie and Yorke.
137
March tryes his Freinds, and in his Father's right,
Vrges his owne; Ormund, and Wiltshire ioyne
With Penbroke, to surprise him, if they might;
Or vanquish his small forces. In a plaine
They meet yonge Edward, resolute to fight;
(Brave Spirrit! who soe yonge begins to shine;)
Hee stands a victor; and the Earles (who might
In Power have grasp't him) make a shamefull flight.
Vrges his owne; Ormund, and Wiltshire ioyne
With Penbroke, to surprise him, if they might;
Or vanquish his small forces. In a plaine
They meet yonge Edward, resolute to fight;
(Brave Spirrit! who soe yonge begins to shine;)
Hee stands a victor; and the Earles (who might
In Power have grasp't him) make a shamefull flight.
This fired my Rage; let it enflame thy verse,
T' empassionate for me. Shall Yorke's cold vrne
In a warme Ocean of Scarlet Tears
Be drench't, by pious March, and I but mourne
My equall Losse with Sighs, or woman's Tears?
I blush to thinke it: noe, let Warwicke burne
In a brave heat, and to my father's Name
Thunder Revenge on that imperious Dame.
T' empassionate for me. Shall Yorke's cold vrne
In a warme Ocean of Scarlet Tears
Be drench't, by pious March, and I but mourne
My equall Losse with Sighs, or woman's Tears?
I blush to thinke it: noe, let Warwicke burne
In a brave heat, and to my father's Name
Thunder Revenge on that imperious Dame.
Be I vnworthy of my Name or Birth?
Vnworthy an Opinion with Men?
Bee I by Heaven accurst, disgrac'd on Earth?
All Miserie befall me, (that the Pen
Of Skillfull Wizards blot vpon the Hearth
Of Destinie,) if this blood-gviltie Qveene
Survive, in Peace; and in the fatall Storie
Of Salisburie, erect her Envie's glorie.
Vnworthy an Opinion with Men?
Bee I by Heaven accurst, disgrac'd on Earth?
All Miserie befall me, (that the Pen
Of Skillfull Wizards blot vpon the Hearth
Of Destinie,) if this blood-gviltie Qveene
Survive, in Peace; and in the fatall Storie
Of Salisburie, erect her Envie's glorie.
138
And let the readie Ministers of fate
Record my vow, for ever permanent,
Vpon a brazen Pillar. You who waite
In the high Court of Truth, and doe frequent
The vncorrupted Barre, at Iudgment's Seat;
You, whom I most admire; you innocent
Spirrits of Ioy and Light, be instant now,
And Chardge me gviltie, if I breake my vow.
Record my vow, for ever permanent,
Vpon a brazen Pillar. You who waite
In the high Court of Truth, and doe frequent
The vncorrupted Barre, at Iudgment's Seat;
You, whom I most admire; you innocent
Spirrits of Ioy and Light, be instant now,
And Chardge me gviltie, if I breake my vow.
The furious Qveen shall know he had a Son;
She knowes that else, but She shall know the price
Of a rash Murder; and not she alone.
May Heaven forget me, if my ffather Dyes
Vnsatisfyed in blood; the Royall Throne
Shall not exempted be; when my Lord cryes
In Dust, Revenge! Warwicke, revenge my blood!
I'de to his Deare Name sacrifize her Broode.
She knowes that else, but She shall know the price
Of a rash Murder; and not she alone.
May Heaven forget me, if my ffather Dyes
Vnsatisfyed in blood; the Royall Throne
Shall not exempted be; when my Lord cryes
In Dust, Revenge! Warwicke, revenge my blood!
I'de to his Deare Name sacrifize her Broode.
But know, proud woman, Warwicke cannot pay
His Debt, with threats, nor chatter out in words
His Anger; you shall know, another Day,
What he allowes for Current; when bright Swords
Shall Advocate; when barbéd arrowes play,
Vpon the Helmes of your Lancastrian Lords.
Brave Rhetorique! when bloodie Clifford shall
Appease poore Rutland's Ghost, in his owne fall.
His Debt, with threats, nor chatter out in words
His Anger; you shall know, another Day,
What he allowes for Current; when bright Swords
Shall Advocate; when barbéd arrowes play,
Vpon the Helmes of your Lancastrian Lords.
Brave Rhetorique! when bloodie Clifford shall
Appease poore Rutland's Ghost, in his owne fall.
139
But these were dreams of Passion. In this heat
I brought fresh forces, to affront the Qveene,
Strong in her Northerne Ayde; and now wee Mett;
With equall resolution, both are seene.
Till by a freind's foule Treason, all our great
Designes were frustrate. How oft have I bene
Betraied by freinds? 'tis Treason must doe that
Which fforce or ffortune could not; hardly Fate.
I brought fresh forces, to affront the Qveene,
Strong in her Northerne Ayde; and now wee Mett;
With equall resolution, both are seene.
Till by a freind's foule Treason, all our great
Designes were frustrate. How oft have I bene
Betraied by freinds? 'tis Treason must doe that
Which fforce or ffortune could not; hardly Fate.
We are betraied; and Warwicke who would stand
The Mouth of Thunder, in his Honour's right,
Must flye for Safetie. All our men disband,
To secure Life, by a disgracefull flight.
Th' vnluckie King, brought thither by our hand,
Is left without retinue, to the Night.
Ah, my false Dreams! Shall Marg'ret once againe
Triumph in Yorke, and my great father Slaine?
The Mouth of Thunder, in his Honour's right,
Must flye for Safetie. All our men disband,
To secure Life, by a disgracefull flight.
Th' vnluckie King, brought thither by our hand,
Is left without retinue, to the Night.
Ah, my false Dreams! Shall Marg'ret once againe
Triumph in Yorke, and my great father Slaine?
Ah noe! they will have Iustice; can she stand,
And their Iust blood, soe heavie on her head?
Her Glorie, my Confusion; Warwick's hand
Is seized with palsey; vseles, he'es a foole
A Coward ffoole, to suffer her command.
Were he not Lead, or Ice, as Coldly dull;
Hee would breake out in ffurie, make Yorke shine,
And quite extingvish the Lancastrian Line.
And their Iust blood, soe heavie on her head?
Her Glorie, my Confusion; Warwick's hand
Is seized with palsey; vseles, he'es a foole
A Coward ffoole, to suffer her command.
Were he not Lead, or Ice, as Coldly dull;
Hee would breake out in ffurie, make Yorke shine,
And quite extingvish the Lancastrian Line.
140
It cannot stand with Honour, nor my Name,
To suffer it; Great Warwicke, once admir'd,
Valour's heroicke Genius; the true fflame
Of Action; with Scandall, is retired
Into the Ebbe of a disgracefull ffame.
Death to my Soule! breake Spirrit; I am fir'd
Beyond another Treason. March shall rise
King of this England, or else Warwicke dyes.
To suffer it; Great Warwicke, once admir'd,
Valour's heroicke Genius; the true fflame
Of Action; with Scandall, is retired
Into the Ebbe of a disgracefull ffame.
Death to my Soule! breake Spirrit; I am fir'd
Beyond another Treason. March shall rise
King of this England, or else Warwicke dyes.
Thus Iniuries adde to the fire of Rage,
And Rage vsurps the Seat of Reason now;
Th' enflam'd Sence is readie to engage
A man for all things, to his over throw.
Blame not my Passion, if I too much wage
The fruitles warre of words; for you all know
“Iniuries press the Thoughts; prest Thoughts will Speake:
“Hee wants noe remedie, that none will Seeke.
And Rage vsurps the Seat of Reason now;
Th' enflam'd Sence is readie to engage
A man for all things, to his over throw.
Blame not my Passion, if I too much wage
The fruitles warre of words; for you all know
“Iniuries press the Thoughts; prest Thoughts will Speake:
“Hee wants noe remedie, that none will Seeke.
And though, perhaps, this vanitie of words
Appeare in me too weake and feminine;
Heare me thus much. When miserie affords
Noe other way, how glad are wee to speake!
And when our pungent greifes, (more sharpe than Swords
Of Enemies,) doe violentlie breake
Vpon vs; who wants Langvage to discusse
His owne to what he would? as thus, or thus.
Appeare in me too weake and feminine;
Heare me thus much. When miserie affords
Noe other way, how glad are wee to speake!
And when our pungent greifes, (more sharpe than Swords
Of Enemies,) doe violentlie breake
Vpon vs; who wants Langvage to discusse
His owne to what he would? as thus, or thus.
141
Soe did I mine; and all that I could Say
Was little to the Cause; for some time prest
With Thought of Treason, now another way;
ffresh pregnant Hopes surprise my willing brest.
But then, againe, my Rage doth soone allay
These Dreams. My murd'red ffather, and the rest,
Crye Blood and vengeance. These would seem to rend
A Rocke of ffortitude; when my best freind,
Was little to the Cause; for some time prest
With Thought of Treason, now another way;
ffresh pregnant Hopes surprise my willing brest.
But then, againe, my Rage doth soone allay
These Dreams. My murd'red ffather, and the rest,
Crye Blood and vengeance. These would seem to rend
A Rocke of ffortitude; when my best freind,
The brave victorious March, (who strucke me mute
With Shame, to thinke of my lost Enterprise,)
Breakes in vpon me, with a kind Salute;
My Noble Cozen, Action seldome dyes,
In Plots of Treason, though they hang in doubt;
Wee have not lost our Spirrits; Warwicke, rise;
Rise my Life's freind; let Lovelace dye, thy Scorne;
Baselye forgotten, as he was forsworne;
With Shame, to thinke of my lost Enterprise,)
Breakes in vpon me, with a kind Salute;
My Noble Cozen, Action seldome dyes,
In Plots of Treason, though they hang in doubt;
Wee have not lost our Spirrits; Warwicke, rise;
Rise my Life's freind; let Lovelace dye, thy Scorne;
Baselye forgotten, as he was forsworne;
Contemne his ffollie, and pursue the Claime,
(An obligation to Posteritie;)
The dull King sleeps, and is it not a Shame,
Wee should be slaved by Pride and Beggerie?
She, who brought nothing with her but her Name,
And Bug-beare Titles of high Ancestrie.
The Kingdome suffers, and the Scepter stands,
A distaffe, in a froward woman's hands.
(An obligation to Posteritie;)
The dull King sleeps, and is it not a Shame,
Wee should be slaved by Pride and Beggerie?
She, who brought nothing with her but her Name,
And Bug-beare Titles of high Ancestrie.
The Kingdome suffers, and the Scepter stands,
A distaffe, in a froward woman's hands.
142
Succeed our Hopes, for doth not Edward's dust,
(Our mightye Grandfire Edward, Hee who once
Made Valois tremble,) rise and crye vniust
Vpon our Heads? and that brave Scourge of ffrance,
(Whose Name was Terror, and whose ffame may boast
All the true Glories which can Man advance,)
Doe they not breake their Marble, in a grone?
That such a Nephew should posses the Throne.
(Our mightye Grandfire Edward, Hee who once
Made Valois tremble,) rise and crye vniust
Vpon our Heads? and that brave Scourge of ffrance,
(Whose Name was Terror, and whose ffame may boast
All the true Glories which can Man advance,)
Doe they not breake their Marble, in a grone?
That such a Nephew should posses the Throne.
Was not my Grandsire, Lionel of Clare,
Before the hope of Lancaster? and thus
His Daughter married was to Mortimer.
Mortimer's Heir doth now survive in vs;
And I, from him am March, noe more then Heire
To England's Crowne! of Blood ambitious;
Thus, I vnseele a Subiect's Eyes, to looke
Vpon a Throne, vsurp't by Bolinbrooke.
Before the hope of Lancaster? and thus
His Daughter married was to Mortimer.
Mortimer's Heir doth now survive in vs;
And I, from him am March, noe more then Heire
To England's Crowne! of Blood ambitious;
Thus, I vnseele a Subiect's Eyes, to looke
Vpon a Throne, vsurp't by Bolinbrooke.
Only, my faithfull Cozen, let me have
That Arme, to gvarde it, which begun the Claime;
Let the trivmphant Beare and Ragged Staffe,
A Trophie Stand, t' enrich the breath of ffame,
In Edward's Title; and I shall be safe,
Maugre the malice of that haughtie Dame.
And let it be my Ioy, when Starrs attend
Our better ffortunes, to call Warwicke freind.
That Arme, to gvarde it, which begun the Claime;
Let the trivmphant Beare and Ragged Staffe,
A Trophie Stand, t' enrich the breath of ffame,
In Edward's Title; and I shall be safe,
Maugre the malice of that haughtie Dame.
And let it be my Ioy, when Starrs attend
Our better ffortunes, to call Warwicke freind.
143
Suffice it, Cozen, rather now to bring
Our Strength to vindicate our right in Blood;
And to the Dust of Yorke, enthrone a King.
May his pleas'd spirrit triumph in our good:
Loe, where the Cittie comes! oh, happie thing,
If by a gen'rall voice, yonge Edward could
The Royall Throne ascend; without the gvilt
Of soe much Christian Blood, as may be spilt.
Our Strength to vindicate our right in Blood;
And to the Dust of Yorke, enthrone a King.
May his pleas'd spirrit triumph in our good:
Loe, where the Cittie comes! oh, happie thing,
If by a gen'rall voice, yonge Edward could
The Royall Throne ascend; without the gvilt
Of soe much Christian Blood, as may be spilt.
Thus hopefull March: when with a louder voice,
I greet the people. You, in whom wee trust;
Brave Citizens, in whom our Action ioyes;
How stand your Thoughts? Loe, Edward to the iust
Scale of your vertues, lets it fall to Choice.
His right in Blood; you know the Title. Must
The old King raigne? or will you now proclaime
Your wishes to the hope of Edward's name?
I greet the people. You, in whom wee trust;
Brave Citizens, in whom our Action ioyes;
How stand your Thoughts? Loe, Edward to the iust
Scale of your vertues, lets it fall to Choice.
His right in Blood; you know the Title. Must
The old King raigne? or will you now proclaime
Your wishes to the hope of Edward's name?
If you Delight in fetters, and approve
A woman's Rule! If Pride and insolence
Endeare your thoughts! If you can basely love
Your Servitude! you need noe other Prince.
But ffreinds, wee know you groane; and to remove
Your Burthen, Edward labours. Innocence
Attends on Truth, and Iustice would restore
You to the freedome you have knowne before.
A woman's Rule! If Pride and insolence
Endeare your thoughts! If you can basely love
Your Servitude! you need noe other Prince.
But ffreinds, wee know you groane; and to remove
Your Burthen, Edward labours. Innocence
Attends on Truth, and Iustice would restore
You to the freedome you have knowne before.
144
When ‘Edward, Edward! all the people Crye;
Long live King Edward!’ oh the sickly tast
Of giddie-headed Popularitie!
Shall they not, one day, crie him downe as fast?
Can Yorke's proud Son only on them relye,
And be secure? Oh transitorie blast!
I can see humane Errors now, and trace
The steps of ffollie into everie place.
Long live King Edward!’ oh the sickly tast
Of giddie-headed Popularitie!
Shall they not, one day, crie him downe as fast?
Can Yorke's proud Son only on them relye,
And be secure? Oh transitorie blast!
I can see humane Errors now, and trace
The steps of ffollie into everie place.
Thus was he King; and thus I made him King;
Nor would Hee blush to Say, it was my hand
That seated him. For the light hummering
Of People, did but as the Colour stand
To the Designe, and carried vp the Thing.
I layed the ground, I entred, and I manned
His Title with my Blood. It was not ffate
But Warwick's Arme, enthron'd him in his State.
Nor would Hee blush to Say, it was my hand
That seated him. For the light hummering
Of People, did but as the Colour stand
To the Designe, and carried vp the Thing.
I layed the ground, I entred, and I manned
His Title with my Blood. It was not ffate
But Warwick's Arme, enthron'd him in his State.
ffor thus Hee said; If ever I survive
A King in Storie, let them know, I am
Supported by his Hand, who did it give,
Sole vnder Heaven. I carrie but the Name;
The glorious Title, I with ioy derive,
As a light Sparke, from the resplendent flame
Of Warwicke; let it stand thus in my Storie;
Edward's the Crowne, but Warwicke's be the Glorie.
A King in Storie, let them know, I am
Supported by his Hand, who did it give,
Sole vnder Heaven. I carrie but the Name;
The glorious Title, I with ioy derive,
As a light Sparke, from the resplendent flame
Of Warwicke; let it stand thus in my Storie;
Edward's the Crowne, but Warwicke's be the Glorie.
145
However ffreinds, heare you what I confes:
This Man, my ffather Yorke, would often Say,
Gave Life to Action; Action, Successe;
And would revenge his Cause another Day.
ffixe on him, then, with me, in the Excesse
Of Ioy and Gratitude. Oh never may
My hopes succeed! May I accurséd stand
When I forget to honour Warwick's hand.
This Man, my ffather Yorke, would often Say,
Gave Life to Action; Action, Successe;
And would revenge his Cause another Day.
ffixe on him, then, with me, in the Excesse
Of Ioy and Gratitude. Oh never may
My hopes succeed! May I accurséd stand
When I forget to honour Warwick's hand.
Mean-while the Qveen, not Idle in the North,
Leavies a mightie Armie, to bring downe
The great opinion of yong Edward's worth,
And once againe restore her Husband's Crowne;
Now let fame triumph, with her wings stretch't forth;
Let now her trumpet publish the renowne
Of Warwicke; I may speake it without boast
I did Create the Day, which once was lost.
Leavies a mightie Armie, to bring downe
The great opinion of yong Edward's worth,
And once againe restore her Husband's Crowne;
Now let fame triumph, with her wings stretch't forth;
Let now her trumpet publish the renowne
Of Warwicke; I may speake it without boast
I did Create the Day, which once was lost.
The Day was Lost, the passage almost won;
Our heartles Soldiers at the point of flight;
When, (as the beames of the resplendent Sun
Chaseth away the vglie ffoggs of Night,
And glads the world,) I to the People run.
Warwicke! I Crye; once more, doe Warwicke right!
Hee falls not baselie, that with Warwicke dyes;
Chardge brave Companions; be he curst that fflyes.
Our heartles Soldiers at the point of flight;
When, (as the beames of the resplendent Sun
Chaseth away the vglie ffoggs of Night,
And glads the world,) I to the People run.
Warwicke! I Crye; once more, doe Warwicke right!
Hee falls not baselie, that with Warwicke dyes;
Chardge brave Companions; be he curst that fflyes.
146
Let, let, that fatall Day record my Name,
In bright vermilion Letters; that Sad Day,
Where thrice twelve Thousand fell; besides, of ffame,
Northumberland, Lord Beaumont, Dacres, Gray;
That Day, the saddest Day that ever came
To Lancaster; and some are bold to say,
That England ever Saw. Let that Day stand
A Trophie, to enrich great Warwicke's hand.
In bright vermilion Letters; that Sad Day,
Where thrice twelve Thousand fell; besides, of ffame,
Northumberland, Lord Beaumont, Dacres, Gray;
That Day, the saddest Day that ever came
To Lancaster; and some are bold to say,
That England ever Saw. Let that Day stand
A Trophie, to enrich great Warwicke's hand.
Victorious Edward, now the way made Cleare,
In the late overthrow, was crownéd King;
Which to secure, he seekes how to Endeare
The people first; then as a Strength, to bring
Alliance to adorne the Regall Chaire,
And give a better Colour to the Thing.
How great ones stand vnsure! how Crowns of State
Obnoxious are to the rude whirle of ffate.
In the late overthrow, was crownéd King;
Which to secure, he seekes how to Endeare
The people first; then as a Strength, to bring
Alliance to adorne the Regall Chaire,
And give a better Colour to the Thing.
How great ones stand vnsure! how Crowns of State
Obnoxious are to the rude whirle of ffate.
But wee are Happie now; almost Secure;
Our worke is done. Edward and Warwicke stand
Above all ffate. We but deride her power,
Ioyn'd in the Sacred and religious band
Of our owne Thoughts. Hee was a King noe more
Then Warwicke's freind, and Warwicke's mightie hand
Was noe more vsefull, then to serve the ffame
Of Edward's Glorie, in a Loyall Name.
Our worke is done. Edward and Warwicke stand
Above all ffate. We but deride her power,
Ioyn'd in the Sacred and religious band
Of our owne Thoughts. Hee was a King noe more
Then Warwicke's freind, and Warwicke's mightie hand
Was noe more vsefull, then to serve the ffame
Of Edward's Glorie, in a Loyall Name.
147
Wee lived but Each in Either, as the freind
Of his own bosome; trusted with his Soule.
I goe for ffrance, a Proxie, to commend
Affection; and as I erst did rule
In Campes, soe now in Courts; I got the End
Of my owne wishes; though a Ladie's Scoule
(I must confes,) more danted Warwicke's heart,
Then the big face of Warre, or warlike Smart.
Of his own bosome; trusted with his Soule.
I goe for ffrance, a Proxie, to commend
Affection; and as I erst did rule
In Campes, soe now in Courts; I got the End
Of my owne wishes; though a Ladie's Scoule
(I must confes,) more danted Warwicke's heart,
Then the big face of Warre, or warlike Smart.
And let me tell you, though I gave my Name
A Sacrifize vnto the Coales of Warre,
And rather sought the Merit then the ffame
Of Souldier; though I be known afarre
A Surly warriour; as who never came
To the sweet Court of Ladies. Oh you are
Abuséd in the Report! Slaved by a fface
I have bene oft; by Warre I never was.
A Sacrifize vnto the Coales of Warre,
And rather sought the Merit then the ffame
Of Souldier; though I be known afarre
A Surly warriour; as who never came
To the sweet Court of Ladies. Oh you are
Abuséd in the Report! Slaved by a fface
I have bene oft; by Warre I never was.
Thinke not I was a Novice; nor Suppose
Mee ignorant or Rude in way of Court,
Despising Love or Beautie: like to those
Who put on Sullen lookes, and grumble short:
Who Snuffe poore Women vp, with a hot Nose.
Such was I never; for I must report
My selfe a Courtier; Active, Qvicke, and Stronge,
A gracefull Person, and a pleasing Tongve.
Mee ignorant or Rude in way of Court,
Despising Love or Beautie: like to those
Who put on Sullen lookes, and grumble short:
Who Snuffe poore Women vp, with a hot Nose.
Such was I never; for I must report
My selfe a Courtier; Active, Qvicke, and Stronge,
A gracefull Person, and a pleasing Tongve.
148
This, Edward knew; this, knew the Court of ffrance;
This, Ladie Bona knew; but what of this?
Edward, at home, tooke by a fface, a Glance,
fforgets himselfe, his Honour; Warwicke is
Abused in his Court-Errand. He can Dance
With bright-Eyed Ladie Grey, and toy, and kisse.
Sitt Warwicke, with the Shame; and ffrance, the Gall;
He keepes his Mistres, and in her, keeps All.
This, Ladie Bona knew; but what of this?
Edward, at home, tooke by a fface, a Glance,
fforgets himselfe, his Honour; Warwicke is
Abused in his Court-Errand. He can Dance
With bright-Eyed Ladie Grey, and toy, and kisse.
Sitt Warwicke, with the Shame; and ffrance, the Gall;
He keepes his Mistres, and in her, keeps All.
Iniurious Edward! to engage thy freind,
And take another way. Can Warwicke brooke
Such a Contempt? May all Disgrace attend
My Memorie: may I be ever Spoke
The Scorne of men, if here I make an End.
I have a feeling Soule; and Eyes to looke
Vpon the wrong. Am I disgrac'd, abused?
Neglected, Scorned, Betraied where I was vsed?
And take another way. Can Warwicke brooke
Such a Contempt? May all Disgrace attend
My Memorie: may I be ever Spoke
The Scorne of men, if here I make an End.
I have a feeling Soule; and Eyes to looke
Vpon the wrong. Am I disgrac'd, abused?
Neglected, Scorned, Betraied where I was vsed?
Am I forgotten for a fface or looke?
Neglected, for a woman's witching Eyes?
Am I disgrac'd, in what I vndertooke?
Lewes may thinke me base, if Edward prise
My Name with Scorne. I now stand Thunder-strooke,
To my Dishonour. What new thoughts could rise
To please the King, that I should suffer in
The Iawes of Scandall, to secure his Sin?
Neglected, for a woman's witching Eyes?
Am I disgrac'd, in what I vndertooke?
Lewes may thinke me base, if Edward prise
My Name with Scorne. I now stand Thunder-strooke,
To my Dishonour. What new thoughts could rise
To please the King, that I should suffer in
The Iawes of Scandall, to secure his Sin?
149
Or say, proud Edward, though I were as tame
As thou could'st fancie me; as coldly Dull
As the slaved Russian; 'tis not Warwicke's ffame
That only suffers. France and Savoy, full
Of Iust Displeasure, will pursue thy Name.
Are Princes Stales? and Warwicke made the Gull?
It fires my Soule with Rage; I was not borne
Ignoblie to retire; or Live in Scorne.
As thou could'st fancie me; as coldly Dull
As the slaved Russian; 'tis not Warwicke's ffame
That only suffers. France and Savoy, full
Of Iust Displeasure, will pursue thy Name.
Are Princes Stales? and Warwicke made the Gull?
It fires my Soule with Rage; I was not borne
Ignoblie to retire; or Live in Scorne.
Dare Yorke's proud Son forget himselfe soe farre,
To abuse my service? Was I sent to play
With ffooles, or Children? I could ruin Dare
ffor ever, to his follie. But I may
Wrong my owne Honour, ere I be aware.
Suffice it, he has Married Ladie Gray,
Past all recure. Yet thus much let him thinke,
Warwicke perhaps not Sleeps, when he may winke.
To abuse my service? Was I sent to play
With ffooles, or Children? I could ruin Dare
ffor ever, to his follie. But I may
Wrong my owne Honour, ere I be aware.
Suffice it, he has Married Ladie Gray,
Past all recure. Yet thus much let him thinke,
Warwicke perhaps not Sleeps, when he may winke.
Incenséd thus,—for haughtie Spirrits can
Not brooke repulse;—with Clarence I conspire,
To restore Harrie,—now a forlorne Man—
And bring downe Edward. Hee from this takes fire
And vrges it to me. Once backe againe,
Wee Ioyne, and make a partie more Entire.
Two vowes t' assure it; yet he breakes 'em both,
The word of honour, and his Marriage oath.
Not brooke repulse;—with Clarence I conspire,
To restore Harrie,—now a forlorne Man—
And bring downe Edward. Hee from this takes fire
And vrges it to me. Once backe againe,
Wee Ioyne, and make a partie more Entire.
Two vowes t' assure it; yet he breakes 'em both,
The word of honour, and his Marriage oath.
150
ffrom whisperings, wee breake to open words;
(But words detract from Noble action;)
And now wee come, prepared with thirsty Swords,
To seeke an honorable Satisfaction.
Nor were wee Despicable; many Lords
And Men of Worth came to assist the ffaction,
And adde to the Designe, which hopefull grew;
As Lincolne, Wells, Dymocke, and Montague.
(But words detract from Noble action;)
And now wee come, prepared with thirsty Swords,
To seeke an honorable Satisfaction.
Nor were wee Despicable; many Lords
And Men of Worth came to assist the ffaction,
And adde to the Designe, which hopefull grew;
As Lincolne, Wells, Dymocke, and Montague.
One blow wee gave, and Pris'ner tooke the King;
But he escapes, and moves vs to a Peace.
Hardlie can painted Apples wise Men bring;
Good words take women, and may Children please;
But I too well knew words; Soe wolves, will Sing;
I knew I went too farre againe to cease.
“Revolts are never reconciled”; I knew
Old policies too well, too well, to hazard new.
But he escapes, and moves vs to a Peace.
Hardlie can painted Apples wise Men bring;
Good words take women, and may Children please;
But I too well knew words; Soe wolves, will Sing;
I knew I went too farre againe to cease.
“Revolts are never reconciled”; I knew
Old policies too well, too well, to hazard new.
And now the Spirrit of my iniured freind,
Heroicke Wells, breakes out, against the Power
Of Edward; too too weake to gaine the End
Of Victorie; but his great fire no more
Would suffer him to pause, or re-attend
More pregnant hopes, or the King's gracious hower.
Hee thinkes that Maiestie and ffortune Smile;
Both, to a purpose, often to begvile.
Heroicke Wells, breakes out, against the Power
Of Edward; too too weake to gaine the End
Of Victorie; but his great fire no more
Would suffer him to pause, or re-attend
More pregnant hopes, or the King's gracious hower.
Hee thinkes that Maiestie and ffortune Smile;
Both, to a purpose, often to begvile.
151
How farre doth Passion blind vs! How was Hee
Hurried beyond his Reason! Oh, the Sad
And bitter Thought of such an Iniurie!
A ffather's Death makes my great ffreind halfe Mad.
Brave Spirrit of Wells! Oh, might thy fortune be
As glorious as thy Cause! Can Iustice adde
Nothing to vertue? Number will prevaile,
And turne the pin of bright Astreaes Skale.
Hurried beyond his Reason! Oh, the Sad
And bitter Thought of such an Iniurie!
A ffather's Death makes my great ffreind halfe Mad.
Brave Spirrit of Wells! Oh, might thy fortune be
As glorious as thy Cause! Can Iustice adde
Nothing to vertue? Number will prevaile,
And turne the pin of bright Astreaes Skale.
Ah, pitty that it should! Soe fell my freind,
Carried by ffurie to a brave revenge;
Regardles of his Strength, but of the End.
Shall, shall, saies he, the faithles King infringe
His Roiall ffaith? the promise he did send
To my dear ffather? Oh revenge, revenge!
I run, to sacrifize my Pietie
To the King's murder, Rage, and Tirranie.
Carried by ffurie to a brave revenge;
Regardles of his Strength, but of the End.
Shall, shall, saies he, the faithles King infringe
His Roiall ffaith? the promise he did send
To my dear ffather? Oh revenge, revenge!
I run, to sacrifize my Pietie
To the King's murder, Rage, and Tirranie.
Nor can I suffer, in a Cause soe good.
Religion bids me goe. All good Men Crie
Revenge! revenge thy noble ffather's blood.
And shall I trifle? Let me rather Dye
A thousand Times. What poore and abiect moode
Hath thus long seized me, that I doe not flye
Vpon the Tirant, and pursue the wrong
As ffemale Lions, who have lost their yonge?
Religion bids me goe. All good Men Crie
Revenge! revenge thy noble ffather's blood.
And shall I trifle? Let me rather Dye
A thousand Times. What poore and abiect moode
Hath thus long seized me, that I doe not flye
Vpon the Tirant, and pursue the wrong
As ffemale Lions, who have lost their yonge?
152
Enragéd thus, he fell; thus our Designe
Suffred extreamlie. Wee to ffrance retire;
And in a firme Confederacie, ioyne
With the late Qveen, who burnt with inward ffire.
Nor does shee now at Edward's Name repine,
But to the occasion subiects her Desire.
With her, the Prince, Oxford, and Pembroke Sweare
To ioyne with Harrie, for the Regall Chaire.
Suffred extreamlie. Wee to ffrance retire;
And in a firme Confederacie, ioyne
With the late Qveen, who burnt with inward ffire.
Nor does shee now at Edward's Name repine,
But to the occasion subiects her Desire.
With her, the Prince, Oxford, and Pembroke Sweare
To ioyne with Harrie, for the Regall Chaire.
Our hopes Succeed; wee enter once againe,
And put King Edward to a hastie flight;
Hee leaves the Land, with a Distracted traine.
Wee labour here at home in Harrie's right,
And give him freedome; but hee (holye Man)
Neglects his fortune; of a modest spright:
A Soule beneath a King, and rather fitt
In a cold Eremit, or vowed Anchorit.
And put King Edward to a hastie flight;
Hee leaves the Land, with a Distracted traine.
Wee labour here at home in Harrie's right,
And give him freedome; but hee (holye Man)
Neglects his fortune; of a modest spright:
A Soule beneath a King, and rather fitt
In a cold Eremit, or vowed Anchorit.
For even that Day the People had run backe,
To Edward's part, if I, for the weake King,
Had not stood vp; and Cryed, with Ioy awake,
Dear Countrimen; and to your Soveraigne bring
Your vowes of faith! And knowing it would take
Better, I tell 'em, Warwicke did the Thing.
Warwicke is Harrie's ffreind, to live or Dye;
When ‘Warwicke, Warwicke,’ all the People Crye.
To Edward's part, if I, for the weake King,
Had not stood vp; and Cryed, with Ioy awake,
Dear Countrimen; and to your Soveraigne bring
Your vowes of faith! And knowing it would take
Better, I tell 'em, Warwicke did the Thing.
Warwicke is Harrie's ffreind, to live or Dye;
When ‘Warwicke, Warwicke,’ all the People Crye.
153
Warwicke and Harrie! Long live Harrie King!
The giddie people Crye. He takes their voice
As neither glad nor greivéd at the Thing;
Yet rather by Co-action then Choice.
How humane Natures scarce show whence they spring!
Son of brave ffather! who admir'd the noise
Of Action! great Soule! who tooke the Crowne
Of Haughtie ffrance, and left it to thy Sonne.
The giddie people Crye. He takes their voice
As neither glad nor greivéd at the Thing;
Yet rather by Co-action then Choice.
How humane Natures scarce show whence they spring!
Son of brave ffather! who admir'd the noise
Of Action! great Soule! who tooke the Crowne
Of Haughtie ffrance, and left it to thy Sonne.
Great Soule, whom I admire, whose active glorie
Shall shine in Truth's bright Annals, and Survive
To all Posteritie, in happie Storie;
When Brasse and Marble faile, when Mortalls give
Vp interest of all their Transitorie;
Then shall thy vertues shine, thy Actions live,
And Time shall bring a Poet to reherse
Thy liveing Glories, in a deathles verse.
Shall shine in Truth's bright Annals, and Survive
To all Posteritie, in happie Storie;
When Brasse and Marble faile, when Mortalls give
Vp interest of all their Transitorie;
Then shall thy vertues shine, thy Actions live,
And Time shall bring a Poet to reherse
Thy liveing Glories, in a deathles verse.
Loe, I have done the worke; Loe, where I stand,
A King, or more. Harrie but wears the name,
The Honour mine; the fface Hee, I the Hand;
Now Warwicke stands, the ornament of ffame.
Brave Soveraigntie! not vassalls to command,
And tirranise with Slaves; but to vnframe
The Seat of Kings, and have bright Scepters fall
Before my feet; to make and vnmake All.
A King, or more. Harrie but wears the name,
The Honour mine; the fface Hee, I the Hand;
Now Warwicke stands, the ornament of ffame.
Brave Soveraigntie! not vassalls to command,
And tirranise with Slaves; but to vnframe
The Seat of Kings, and have bright Scepters fall
Before my feet; to make and vnmake All.
154
Did Edward thinke I slept? Has he forgott,
Ingratefull Boy, this hand? Could he surmise
Warwicke should feele the ffire and not be hot?
Was my Complexion made for Iniuries?
Where, where has Edward soe much cunning got
To see my Phlegme, or Atra bilis rise?
You are mistaken, Prince, and ere this, know
You were mistaken, to vse Warwicke soe.
Ingratefull Boy, this hand? Could he surmise
Warwicke should feele the ffire and not be hot?
Was my Complexion made for Iniuries?
Where, where has Edward soe much cunning got
To see my Phlegme, or Atra bilis rise?
You are mistaken, Prince, and ere this, know
You were mistaken, to vse Warwicke soe.
'Tis not your fflemings that can now restore
You to your Kingdome; nor your Brother's witt
Betray vs, with faire promise, to your Power;
Glocester! who like a brooding witch, doth Sitt
On plotts of Mischeife! you pretend noe more
Then right of birth, the Dukedome; and 'tis fitt,
A modest Claime; but Warwicke can noe more
Bee fooled with words, nor trust you, though you swore.
You to your Kingdome; nor your Brother's witt
Betray vs, with faire promise, to your Power;
Glocester! who like a brooding witch, doth Sitt
On plotts of Mischeife! you pretend noe more
Then right of birth, the Dukedome; and 'tis fitt,
A modest Claime; but Warwicke can noe more
Bee fooled with words, nor trust you, though you swore.
I come to crosse your hopes, and give an End
To your Ambition; set a period
ffor ever to the worke. Oh, pardon, ffreind;
Pardon, great Soule of York! with whom I stood;
Pardon, my father's Ghost! if I offend;
'Tis not for Marg'ret, nor her Sickly brood,
I leave the Partye, but 'gainst Edward's faith
I ioyne with Her, to satisfye my wrath.
To your Ambition; set a period
ffor ever to the worke. Oh, pardon, ffreind;
Pardon, great Soule of York! with whom I stood;
Pardon, my father's Ghost! if I offend;
'Tis not for Marg'ret, nor her Sickly brood,
I leave the Partye, but 'gainst Edward's faith
I ioyne with Her, to satisfye my wrath.
155
fforgive me, Equall Heavens! if I preserve
My honour, dearer then a thousand Lives,
To my Life's hazard. Let the Scithian sterve
In chains of Ice, and voluntarie Gviues
Adorne the Muscovite; I would deserve
A noble ffreedome; and though Edward Strives
T' eclipse my name, with infamous disgrace,
Know, Edward's ffollie made me what I was.
My honour, dearer then a thousand Lives,
To my Life's hazard. Let the Scithian sterve
In chains of Ice, and voluntarie Gviues
Adorne the Muscovite; I would deserve
A noble ffreedome; and though Edward Strives
T' eclipse my name, with infamous disgrace,
Know, Edward's ffollie made me what I was.
But I am growne Discoursive. Rather now
Hear how I fell; (but thus I fell before,)
Treason must worke, (what hardlie fate could doe,)
Great Warwicke's ruine. Hee, who latelie Swore
Noe fate should ever seperate vs two,
Revolted is, with Shame. Oh Clarence! more
Accurst in this, then thy owne Thoughts can bring
Of Hell; who broke with God, to serve a Kinge.
Hear how I fell; (but thus I fell before,)
Treason must worke, (what hardlie fate could doe,)
Great Warwicke's ruine. Hee, who latelie Swore
Noe fate should ever seperate vs two,
Revolted is, with Shame. Oh Clarence! more
Accurst in this, then thy owne Thoughts can bring
Of Hell; who broke with God, to serve a Kinge.
But not your Cittye freinds, in whom you trust,
Nor the bright London Dames, your better ffreinds;
Shall serve to voice you King; nor the vniust
Revolt of Clarence. While yet Warwicke stands,
Warwicke opposeth it; and, Sr, you must
Grapple with sturdie Limnes and Sinnewie hands.
Noe silke-wrapt wantons here; but Soldiers' steele
Shall graspe Luxurious Edward, till Hee feele.
Nor the bright London Dames, your better ffreinds;
Shall serve to voice you King; nor the vniust
Revolt of Clarence. While yet Warwicke stands,
Warwicke opposeth it; and, Sr, you must
Grapple with sturdie Limnes and Sinnewie hands.
Noe silke-wrapt wantons here; but Soldiers' steele
Shall graspe Luxurious Edward, till Hee feele.
156
This Day must stand an Arbiter to both;
(Pardon if I offend,) this blesséd Day,
In memorie whereof I would be loath
My Sacrifize, in humane blood to pay;
It better fitts with holie Christian oath
The vowes of Peace and Innocence, to lay
Vpon the sacred Stone; and solemnize
This Day to Rest, when God and Man did rise.
(Pardon if I offend,) this blesséd Day,
In memorie whereof I would be loath
My Sacrifize, in humane blood to pay;
It better fitts with holie Christian oath
The vowes of Peace and Innocence, to lay
Vpon the sacred Stone; and solemnize
This Day to Rest, when God and Man did rise.
When the World's Saviour, God and Man, did rise
From the darke Confines of vnsounded Deepe,
A Miracle of Ioy to humane Eyes;
Shall I profane the memorie? Oh, weepe,
Weepe, stonie Eyes, and let my Soule in Cryes
Of true Contrition, this good Easter keepe.
Oh let Religion keepe my Courage in!
Ill thrives the Action that was lay'd in Sin.
From the darke Confines of vnsounded Deepe,
A Miracle of Ioy to humane Eyes;
Shall I profane the memorie? Oh, weepe,
Weepe, stonie Eyes, and let my Soule in Cryes
Of true Contrition, this good Easter keepe.
Oh let Religion keepe my Courage in!
Ill thrives the Action that was lay'd in Sin.
ffor though I prise a Iust acquiréd Glorie
Before the best of Life; yet I am taught
There is a Life, beyond this transitorie,
To which Life, Honour, Name, should stand as nought.
That I expect; that happines adore I,
Eternall Ioyes, which ravish mortall thought.
There wee must give account; all Actions there,
Iudged, and rewarded shall be, as they were.
Before the best of Life; yet I am taught
There is a Life, beyond this transitorie,
To which Life, Honour, Name, should stand as nought.
That I expect; that happines adore I,
Eternall Ioyes, which ravish mortall thought.
There wee must give account; all Actions there,
Iudged, and rewarded shall be, as they were.
157
Oh, then I tremble! and this Heart, which never
Could stoope to feare, is frozen in my brest;
Then I collect my Soule, then I endeavour
To put of Man, and ffrailtie to divest.
My honour, Blood, and Name I quitt, for ever;
I am a Christian; and be that the best
Of all my glories; and to that dear Name
This Day, I would not fight, my Glorie's Shame.
Could stoope to feare, is frozen in my brest;
Then I collect my Soule, then I endeavour
To put of Man, and ffrailtie to divest.
My honour, Blood, and Name I quitt, for ever;
I am a Christian; and be that the best
Of all my glories; and to that dear Name
This Day, I would not fight, my Glorie's Shame.
But pardon, Edward comes with the big fface
Of warre against me; I must take the feild:
Necessitie compells. Thou fatall place,
Vnluckie Barnet; boast not if I yeild
To supreme ffate; I fall not with disgrace,
But as I lived, with Honour; I was kill'd
In a brave Service; and my Name, which stood
The Boast of ffame, I varnish't with my Blood.
Of warre against me; I must take the feild:
Necessitie compells. Thou fatall place,
Vnluckie Barnet; boast not if I yeild
To supreme ffate; I fall not with disgrace,
But as I lived, with Honour; I was kill'd
In a brave Service; and my Name, which stood
The Boast of ffame, I varnish't with my Blood.
Thus Warwicke fell, and that great Name, which once
Was heard with Terror, they pronounce with Scorne;
That Hand, which did support or ruine Thrones,
Is vseles; and great Warwicke lyes forlorne,
Mingled in Dust with base and abiect bones.
Soe all men Dye, as had they not bene borne,
Like summer flowers; and serve but as a prey
To greedie Time, and merciles Decay.
Was heard with Terror, they pronounce with Scorne;
That Hand, which did support or ruine Thrones,
Is vseles; and great Warwicke lyes forlorne,
Mingled in Dust with base and abiect bones.
Soe all men Dye, as had they not bene borne,
Like summer flowers; and serve but as a prey
To greedie Time, and merciles Decay.
158
Let this Suffice my Hopes; I now may passe
The horrid waves of Acheron, and give
The world a Knowledge of what once I was;
Soe may the Name of Warwicke ever live,
In forcive Numbers. Let me to my place
Of Peacefull Freedome, Thou who didst revive
A wretched Soule, and re-erect my Name;
Ioy, in thy Thoughts, I vanish as I came.
The horrid waves of Acheron, and give
The world a Knowledge of what once I was;
Soe may the Name of Warwicke ever live,
In forcive Numbers. Let me to my place
Of Peacefull Freedome, Thou who didst revive
A wretched Soule, and re-erect my Name;
Ioy, in thy Thoughts, I vanish as I came.
The Ende.
To the Memorie of the great Earle of Warwicke
Richard Nevile:
Repose, Heroicke Dust; thy better partInherit Glorie. Thus my little Art
Can give noe more; but when this verse of mine,
(How long soever Muses grant it Shine
And shadow out thy Storie,) shall decay;
Rise brighter to Posteritie! and may
Diligent Poets of another Age
New dress thy Glories in a high-borne Rage;
Equall to antique Greece, or Rome's owne fire.
Vnprofitable Muses can aspire
In wishes onlie: but I doe thee wrong;
Live, till men thinke true Glorie lives too long;
Even till thy owne Name can noe more be Sung.
The End.
Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori.
| The poems of George Daniel | |