The complete works in verse and prose of Samuel Daniel Edited with memorial-introduction and a glossarial index embracing notes and illustrations. By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart |
 | 1. |
 | II. | VOL. II. THE CIVILE WARS BETWEEN THE TWO HOUSES OF LANCASTER AND YORKE. 1595–1623. |
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 | The complete works in verse and prose of Samuel Daniel |  |
II. VOL. II. THE CIVILE WARS BETWEEN THE TWO HOUSES OF LANCASTER AND YORKE. 1595–1623.
THE FIRST FOWRE
Bookes of the ciuile wars between the two houses of Lancaster and Yorke.
Ætas prima canat veneres postrema tumultus.
TO THE RIGHT NOBLE Lady, the Lady Marie, Countesse
Dowager of Pembrooke.
9
THE FIRST BOOKE.
THE ARGVMENT.
What times fore-goe Richard the seconds Raigne,The fatall causes of this ciuile VVarre,
His Vncles pride, his greedy Minions gaine,
Glosters reuolt, and death, deliuered are.
Herford, accus'd, exil'd, call'd-back againe,
Pretendes t'amend what others Rule did marre.
The King from Ireland hastes, but did no good;
VVhil'st strange prodigious signes fore-token blood.
1
I sing the ciuill Warres, tumultuous Broyles,And bloody factions of a mightie Land:
Whose people hautie, proud with forraine spoyles,
Vpon themselues turn-backe their conquering hand;
10
Like Ensignes all against like Ensignes band;
Bowes against Bowes, the Crowne against the Crowne;
Whil'st all pretending right, all right's throwne downe.
2
What / furie, ô what madnes held thee so,Deare England (too too prodigall of blood)
To waste so much, and warre without a foe,
Whilst Fraunce, to see thy spoyles, at pleasure stood!
How much might'st thou haue purchast with lesse woe,
T'haue done thee honour and thy people good?
Thine might haue beene what-euer lies betweene
The Alps and vs, the Pyrenei and Rhene.
3
Yet now what reason haue we to complaine?Since hereby came the calme we did inioy;
The blisse of thee Eliza; happie gaine
For all our losse: when-as no other way
The Heauens could finde, but to vnite againe
The fatall sev'red Families, that they
Might bring foorth thee: that in thy peace might growe
That glorie, which few Times could euer showe.
11
4
Come sacred Virtue: I no Muse, but thee,Inuoke, in this great labour I intend.
Doo thou inspire my thoughts, infuse in mee
A power to bring the same to happie end.
Rayse vp a worke, for later times to see,
That may thy glorie, and my paynes commend.
Make me these tumults rightly to rehearse:
And giue peace to my life, life to my verse.
5
And thou Charles Montioy (who didst once affordRest for my fortunes, on thy quiet shore;
And cheer'dst mee on, these measures to record
In grauer tones, then I had vs'd before)
Beholde: my gratitude makes good my word
Ingag'd to thee (although thou be no more)
That I, who heretofore haue liu'd by thee,
Doo giue thee now a roome to liue with me.
12
6
And MEMORIE, preserv'resse of things done,Come thou, vnfold the woundes, the wracke, the waste:
Reueale to me how all the strife begunne
Twixt Lancaster and Yorke, in ages past:
How causes, counsels, and euents did runne,
So long as these vnhappie times did last;
Vnintermixt with fiction's fantasies.
I versifie the troth, not Poetize.
7
And to the ende wee may with better easeDiscerne the true discourse; vouchsafe to showe,
What were the times foregoing, neere to these,
That these we may with better profit knowe:
Tell, how the world fell into this disease,
And how so great distemperature did growe.
So shall we see, by what degrees it came,
“How things, at full, do soone wex out of frame.
8
Ten Kings had, from the Norman Conqueror, raign'd,With intermixt and variable fate,
When England to her greatest height attain'd
Of powre, dominion, glorie, wealth, and State;
13
The violence of Princes, with debate
For titles, and the often mutinies
Of Nobles, for their ancient liberties.
9
For, first, the Norman, conquering all by might,By might was forc't to keepe what he had got;
Mixing our Customes and the forme of Right
With foraine Constitutions he had brought:
Maistering the mightie, humbling the poorer wight
By all seuerest meanes that could be wrought:
And, making the succession oubtfull, rent
This new-got State, and left it turbulent.
14
10
VViliam his sonne, tracing his fathers wayes(The great men spent in peace, or slaine in fight)
Vpon depressed weaknes onely preyes,
And makes his force maintaine his doubtfull right:
His elder brothers clayme, vexing his dayes,
His actions and exactions still incite:
And giuing Beastes, what did to Men pertaine
(Tooke for a Beast) himselfe in th'end was slaine.
11
His brother Henrie next commands the State:Who, Roberts title better to reiect,
Seekes to repacifie the peoples hate;
And with faire shewes, rather then in effect,
Allayes those grieuances that heauie sate:
Reformes the lawes, which soone hee did neglect;
And rest of sonnes, for whom he did prepare,
Leaues crowne and strife, to Maude his daughters care.
15
12
Whom Stephen his nephew (falsifying his Oath)Preuents; assayles the Realme; obtaines the Crowne;
Such tumults raysing as torment them both,
Whil'st both held nothing certainely their owne:
Th'afflicted State (diuided in their troth
And partiall faith) most miserable growne,
Endures the while, till peace, and Stephens death,
Gaue some calme leasure to recouer breath.
13
When Henrie, sonne to Maude the Empresse, raignes,And England into forme and greatnes brought,
Addes Ireland to this Scepter, and obtaines
Large Prouinces in Fraunce; much treasure gote,
And from exactions here at home abstaynes:
And had not his rebellious children sought
T'imbroyle his age with tumults, he had beene
The happiest Monarch that this State had seene.
16
14
Him, Richard followes in the gouernment:Who much the glory of our Armes increast;
And all his fathers mighty treasure spent,
In that deuoutfull Action of the East:
Whereto, whiles he his forces wholly bent,
Despight and treason his designes opprest;
A faithlesse brother, and a fatall King,
Cut-off his growth of glory, in the spring.
15
Which wicked brother, contrary to course,False Iohn vsurpes his Nephew Arthurs right;
Gets to the Crowne by craft, by wrong, by force;
Rules it with lust, oppression, rigour, might;
Murders the lawfull heire without remorse:
Wherefore procuring all the worlds despight,
A Tyrant loath'd, a homicide conuented,
Poysoned he dyes, disgrac't and vnlamented.
17
16
Henrie his sonne is chosen King, though young,And Lewes of France (elected first) beguil'd;
After the mighty had debated long,
Doubtfull to choose a straunger or a child:
18
Warre for their auncient Lawes so long exil'd.
He graunts the Charter that pretended ease;
Yet kept his owne, and did his State appease.
17
Edward, his sonne, a Martiall King, succeedes;Iust, prudent, graue, religious, fortunate:
Whose happy ordered Raigne most fertile breedes,
Plenty of mighty spirits to strength his State:
And worthy mindes, to manage worthy deedes,
Th'experience of those times ingenerate:
For, euer great imployment, for the great,
Quickens the blood, and honour doth beget.
18
And had not his mis-led lasciuious Sonne,Edward the second, intermitted so
The course of glory happily begunne
(Which brought him and his fauorites to woe)
That happy current without stop had runne
Vnto the full of his sonne Edwards flowe:
But, who hath often seene, in such a State,
Father and Sonne like good, like fortunate?
19
19
But now, this great Succeeder, all repaires,And reinduc't that discontinued good:
He builds vp strength & greatnes, for his heires,
Out of the virtues that adornd his blood:
He makes his Subiects Lords of more then theirs;
And sets their bounds farre wider then they stood.
His powre, and fortune, had sufficient wrought,
Could but the State haue kept what he had got.
20
And had his heire surviu'd him in due course,What limits England hadst thou found? what barre?
What world could haue resisted so great force?
O more then men! (two thunderbolts of warre)
Why did not Time your ioyned worth diuorce,
T'haue made your seueral glories greater farre?
Too prodigall was Nature, thus to doe;
To spend in one Age, what should serue for two.
21
But now the Scepter, in this glorious State,Supported with strong powre and victorie,
Was left vnto a Child; ordain'd by fate
To stay the course of what might growe too hie:
Here was a stop, that Greatnesse did abate,
When powre vpon so weake a base did lie.
20
Such oppositions interposed are.
22
Neuer this Iland better peopled stood;Neuer more men of might, and minds addrest:
Neuer more Princes of the royall blood,
(If not too many for the publique Rest)
Nor euer was more treasure, wealth and good;
Then when this Richard first, the Crowne possest;
The second of that name, in two accurst:
And well we might haue mist all, but the first.
23
In this mans Raigne, began this fatal strife(The bloudie argument whereof we treate)
That dearely cost so many'a Prince his life;
And spoyld the weake, and euen consum'd the great:
That, wherein all confusion was so rife,
As Memory euen grieues her to repeat,
And would that time might now this knowledge lose;
But that tis good to learne by others woes.
24
Edward the third, being dead, had left this child,(Sonne of his worthy sonne deceast of late)
The Crowne and Scepter of this Realme to wield:
Appointing the protectors of his State
Two of his sonnes, to be his better shield;
Supposing Vncles, free from guile or hate,
21
In the respect and honour of their bloud.
25
Of these, Iohn, Duke of Lancaster, was one,(Too great a Subiect growne, for such a State.
The title of a King, and glorie wonne
In great exploits his mind did eleuate
Aboue proportion kingdomes stand vpon:
Which made him push at what his issue gate)
The other, Langley: whose mild temperatness
Did tend vnto a calmer quietnesse.
26
With these, did Woodstock interpose his part;A man, for action violently bent,
And of a spirit averse, and ouer-thwart;
Which could not sute a peace-full gouernment:
Whose euer-swelling, and tumultuous heart
Wrought his owne ill and others discontent.
And these had all the manage of affayres,
During the time the King was vnder yeares.
22
27
And in the first yeares of his gouernment,Things past, as first; the warres in France proceed,
Though not with that same fortune and euent,
Being now not followed with such carefull heed;
Our people here at home, growne discontent,
Through great exactions, insurrections breed:
Priuate respects hindred the Common-weale:
And idle ease doth on the mighty steale.
28
Too many Kings breed factions in the Court:The head too weake, the members growne too great.
Which euermore doth happen in this sort,
When Children rule; the plague which God doth threat
Vnto those Kingdomes which he will transport
To other Lynes, or vtterly defeat:
“For, the ambitious, once inur'd to raigne,
“Can neuer brook a priuate state againe.
29
“And Kingdomes euer suffer this distresse,“Where one, or many, guide the infant King:
“Which one or many (tasting this excesse
“Of greatnesse & command) can neuer bring
“Their thoughts againe t'obay, or to be lesse.
“From hence, these insolencies euer spring;
23
“Then follow leagues, destruction, ruine, spoyle.
30
And whether they, which vnder-went this charge,Permit the King to take a youthfull vaine,
That they their priuate better might inlarge:
Or whether he himselfe would farther straine
(Thinking his yeeres sufficient to discharge
The gouernment) and so assum'd the raine:
Or howsoeuer, now his eare he lends
To youthfull counsell, and his lustes attends.
31
And Courts were neuer barren yet of thoseWhich could with subtile traine, and apt aduice,
Worke on the Princes weakenesse, and dispose
Of feeble frailtie, easie to entice.
And such, no doubt, about this King arose,
Whose flatterie (the dangerous nurse of vice)
Got hand vpon his youth, to pleasures bent:
Which, led by them, did others discontent.
32
For, now his Vncles grew much to mislikeThese ill proceedings; were it that they saw
That others, fauour'd, did aspiring seeke
Their Nephew from their counsels to withdraw,
24
Because they onely would keepe all in awe;
Or that indeede they found the King and State
Abus'd by such as now in office sate.
33
Or rather else, they all were in the fault;Th'ambitious Vncles, th'indiscreete young King,
The greedie Councell, and the Minions naught;
And altogether did this tempest bring:
Besides, the times, with all iniustice fraught,
Concurr'd, with such confus'd misgouerning,
That wee may truely say, This spoyld the State,
“Youthfull Counsaile, priuate Gaine, partiall Hate.
34
And then the King, besides his iealousiesWhich nourisht were, had reason to be led
To doubt his Vncles for their loyalties;
Since Iohn of Gaunt (as was discouered)
Had practised his death in secret wise;
And Gloster openly becomes the head
Vnto a league, who all in armes were bent
T'oppose against the present gouernement;
35
Pretending to remoue such men as wereAccounted to abuse the king, and State.
25
Made Duke of Ireland, with great grace of late;
And diuers else, who for the place they beare
Obnoxious are, and subiect vnto hate.
And these must be sequestred with all speed:
Or else they vow'd, their swordes should doo the deed.
36
The King was forc't in that next Parliament,To grant them what he durst not well refuse.
For, thither arm'd they came, and fully bent
To suffer no repulse, nor no excuse:
And here they did accomplish their intent;
Where Iustice did her sword, not Ballance, vse.
For, euen that sacred place they violate,
Arresting all the Iudges as they sate.
26
37
And here had many worthy men their ende,Without all forme, or any course of Right.
“For, still these broyles, that publike good pretend,
“Worke most iniustice, being done through spight.
“For, those aggrieued euermore do bend
“Against such as they see of greatest might:
“Who, though they cannot helpe what will go ill;
“Yet, since they may doo wrong, are thought they will.
38
And yet herein I meane not to excuseThe Iustices, and Minions of the King
(Who might their office and their grace abuse)
But blame the course held in the managing:
“For, great-men, ouer-grac't, much rigor vse;
“Presuming fauorits discontentment bring:
“And disproportions harmonie do breake;
“Minions, too great, argue a king too weake.
39
Now, that so much was granted, as was sought;A reconcilement made, although not ment,
Appeas'd them all in shewe, but not in thought,
Whilst euery one seem'd outwardly content:
27
More loue, more strength, or easier gouernment;
But euery day, things still succeeded worse.
“For good from Kings is seldome drawne by force.
40
And thus it loe continued, till by chaunceThe Queene (which was the Emperours daughter) di'de:
When-as the King, t'establish peace with Fraunce,
And better for home-quiet to prouide,
Sought by contracting marriage to aduance
His owne affayres, against his Vncles pride;
Tooke the young daughter of King Charles to wife:
Which after, in the end, rays'd greater strife.
41
For, now his vncle Gloster much repin'd,Against this French alliance and this peace:
As either out of a tumultuous minde;
(Which neuer was content the warres should cease:)
Or that he did dishonorable finde
Those articles which did our State decrease;
And therefore storm'd because the Crowne had wrong:
Or that he fear'd, the King would growe too strong.
42
But whatsoeuer mou'd him; this is sure,Hereby he wrought his ruine in the end;
And was a fatall cause, that did procure
The swift approching mischiefes that attend.
28
Thus to be crost in what he did intend;
And therefore watcht but some occasion fit
T'attache the Duke, when he thought least of it.
43
And Fortune, to set forward this intent,The Cont S. Paule, from France, doth hither bring:
Whom Charles the sixt imploy'd in complement,
To see the Queene, and to salute the King.
To whom he shewes his Vncles discontent,
And of his secret dangerous practising,
How he his Subiectes sought to sulleuate,
And breake the league with Fraunce concluded late.
44
To whom the Cont, most cunningly replies;“Great Prince, it is within your power, with ease
“To remedy such feares, such iealousies,
“And rid you of such mutiners as these;
“By cutting off that, which might greater rise,
“And now at first, preuenting this disease,
“And that before he shall your wrath disclose;
“For, who threats first, meanes of reuenge doth lose.
45
“First take his head, then tell the reason why:“Stand not to finde him guiltie by your lawes;
“You easier shall with him your quarrell trie
“Dead then aliue, who hath the better cause.
29
“This publique course of yours compassion drawes;
“Especially in cases of the great:
“Which worke much pitty, in the vndiscreat.
46
“And this is sure, though his offence be such:“Yet doth calamitie attract commorse:
“And men repine at Princes blood-shed much,
“(How iust-soeuer) iudging tis by force.
“I know not how their death giues such a tuch,
“In those that reach not to a true discourse;
“As so shall you, obseruing formall right,
“Be held still as vniust, and win more spight.
47
“And, oft, the cause may come preuented so:“And therefore when tis done, let it be heard.
“For, thereby shall you scape your priuate wo.
“And satisfie the world too, afterward.
“What neede you weigh the rumors that shall go?
“What is that breath, being with your life compar'd?
“And therefore, if you will be rul'd by me,
“In secret sort, let him dispatched bee.
48
And then arraigne the chiefe of those you findeWere of his faction secretly compact:
Who may so well be handled in their kinde;
As their confessions, which you shall exact,
30
And make their death to aggrauate their fact.
So shall you rid your selfe of dangers quite;
And shew the world, that you haue done but right.
49
This counsell, vttred vnto such an eareAs willing listens to the safest wayes,
Workes on the yeelding matter of his feare;
Which easily to any course obayes.
For, euery Prince, seeing his daunger neere,
By any meanes his quiet peace assaies.
“And still the greatest wrongs, that euer were,
“Haue then been wrought, when Kings were put in feare.
50
Call'd in with publique pardon, and release,The Duke of Gloster, with his complices;
All tumults, all contentions seem to cease,
The land rich, people pleas'd, all in happinesse:
When sodainely Gloster came caught, with peace;
VVarwicke, with profered loue and promises:
And Arundell was in, with cunning brought:
Who else abrode, his safetie might haue wrought.
31
51
Long was it not, ere Gloster was conuaydTo Calice, and there strangled secretly:
VVarwicke and Arundell close prisoners laid,
Th'especiall men of his confederacie:
Yet VVarwickes teares and base confessions staide
The doome of death; and came confin'd thereby,
And so prolongs this not long base-begg'd breath:
But Arundell was put to publique death.
52
Which publique death (receiu'd with such a cheare,As not a sigh, a looke, a shrink bewrayes
The least felt touch of a degenerous feare)
Gaue life to Enuie, to his courage prayse;
And made his stout-defended cause appeare
With such a face of Right, as that it layes
The side of wrong t'wards him, who had long since
By Parliament forgiuen this offence:
32
53
And in the vnconceiuing vulgar sort,Such an impression of his goodnes gaue
As Sainted him, and rays'd a strange report
Of miracles effected on his Graue:
Although the Wise (whome zeale did not transport)
“Knew, how each great example still must haue
“Something of wrong, a taste of violence;
“Wherewith, the publique quiet doth dispense.
54
The King foorth-with prouides him of a Guard;A thousand Archers daily to attend:
Which now vpon the act he had prepar'd,
As th'argument his actions to defend:
But yet the world hereof conceiu'd so hard,
That all this nought auaild him in the end.
“In vaine, with terror is he fortified,
“That is not guarded with firme loue beside.
55
Now storme his grieued Vncles, though in vaine;Not able better courses to aduise.
They might their grieuance inwardly complaine;
But outwardly they needes must temporise.
The King was great; and they should nothing gaine
T'attempt reuenge, or offer once to rise:
This league with Fraunce had made him now so strong,
That they must needes as yet indure this wrong.
33
56
For, like a Lion that escapes his boundes,Hauing beene long restrain'd his vse to stray,
Ranges the restless woods, stayes on no groūd,
Riots with blood-shed, wantons on his praie;
Seekes not for neede, but in his pride to wound,
Glorying to see his strength and what he may:
So this vnbridled King (freed of his feares)
In liberty, himself thus wildely beares.
57
For, standing now alone, he sees his mightOut of the compasse of respectiue awe;
And now beginnes to violate all right,
While no restraining feare at hand he saw.
Now he exacts of all, wastes in delight,
Riots in pleasure, and neglects the law:
He thinkes his Crowne is licenst to do ill.
“That lesse should list, that may do what it wil.
58
Thus b'ing transported in this sensuall course,No friend to warne, no counsell to withstand,
He still proceedeth on from bad to worse;
Sooth'd in all actions that he tooke in hand,
By such as all impietie did nurse,
Commending euer what hee did command.
“Vnhappie Kings! that neuer may be taught
“To know themselues, or to discerne their fault.
34
59
And whilst this course did much the kingdome daunt,The Duke of Herford being of courage bolde,
As sonne and heire to mighty Iohn of Gaunt,
Vtters the passion which he could not holde
Concerning these oppressions, and the want
Of gouernment: which he to Norfolke told;
To th'end, he (being great about the king)
Might do some good, by better counselling.
60
Hereof doth Norfolke presently take hold,And to the king the whole discourse relate:
Who, not conceipting it, as it was told,
But iudging it proceeded out of hate;
Disdeigning deepely to be so controwl'd,
That others should his Rule preiudicate,
Charg'd Herford therewithall: who re-accus'd
Norfolke, for words of treason he had vs'd.
35
61
Norfolke denies them peremptorily.Herford recharg'd, and supplicates the king,
To haue the combate of his enemie;
That by his sword hee might approue the thing.
Norfolke desires the same, as earnestly:
And both with equall courage menacing
Reuenge of wrong; that none knew which was free:
For, times of faction, times of slaunder bee.
62
The combate granted, and the day assign'd,They both in order of the field appeare,
Most richly furnisht in all Martiall kinde,
And at the point of intercombate were;
When (lo) the king chang'd sodainely his minde,
Casts downe his warder to arrest them there;
As being aduis'd a better way to take,
Which might for his more certaine safetie make.
63
For, now considering (as it likely might)The victorie should hap on Herfords side
(A man most valiant and of noble sprite,
Belou'd of all, and euer worthy tri'd)
How much he might be grac't in publique sight,
By such an act, as might aduance his pride,
And so become more popular by this;
Which he feares, too much he already is.
36
64
And therefore he resolues to banish both,Though th'one in chiefest fauour with him stood,
A man he dearely lou'd; and might be loth
To leaue him, that had done him so much good:
Yet hauing cause to do as now he doth,
To mitigate the enuie of his blood,
Thought best to lose a friend, to rid a foe;
And such a one, as now he doubted so.
65
And therefore to perpetuall exile heeMowbray condemnes; Herford but for ten yeares:
Thinking (for that the wrong of this decree,
Compar'd with greater rigour, lesse appeares)
It might of all the better liked bee:
But yet such murmuring of the fact he heares,
That he is faine foure of the ten forgiue,
And iudg'd him sixe yeares in exile to liue.
66
At whose departure hence out of the Land,How did the open multitude reueale
The wondrous loue they bare him vnder-hand!
Which now, in this hote passion of their zeale,
They plainely shew'd; that all might vnderstand
How deare he was vnto the common weale.
They feard not to exclaime against the King;
As one, that sought all good mens ruining.
37
67
Vnto the shore, with teares, with sighes, with mone,They him conduct; cursing the bounds that stay
Their willing feete, that would haue further gone,
Had not the fearefull Ocean stopt their way:
“Why Neptune, Hast thou made vs stand alone
“Diuided from the world, for this, say they?
“Hemd-in, to be a spoyle to tyrannie,
“Leauing affliction hence no way to flie?
68
“Are we lockt vp, poore soules, heere to abide“Within the waterie prison of thy waues,
“As in a fold, where subiect to the pride
“And lust of Rulers we remaine as slaues?
“Here in the reach of might, where none can hide
“From th'eye of wrath, but onely in their Graues?
“Happie confiners you of other landes,
“That shift your soyle, and oft scape tyrants hands.
69
“And must we leaue him here, whom here were fit“We should retaine, the pillar of our State?
“Whose vertues well deserue to gouerne it,
“And not this wanton young effeminate.
“Why should not he in Regall honour sit,
“That best knowes how a Realme to ordinate?
“But, one day yet, we hope thou shalt bring backe
“(Deare Bullingbrooke) the Iustice that we lacke.
38
70
“Thus muttred, loe, the malecontented sort;“That loue Kings best, before they haue them, still;
“And neuer can the present State comport,
“But would as often change, as they change will.
For, this good Duke had wonne them in this sort
By succ'ring them, and pittying of their ill,
That they supposed streight it was one thing,
To be both a good Man, and a good King.
71
When-as the grauer sort that saw the course,And knew that Princes may not be controld,
Lik't well to suffer this, for feare of worse;
“Since, many great, one Kingdome cannot hold.
For, now they saw, intestine strife, of force,
The apt-diuided State intangle would,
If he should stay whom they would make their head,
By whom the vulgar body might be led.
72
“They saw likewise, that Princes oft are faine“To buy their quiet, with the price of wrong:
And better 'twere that now a few complaine,
Then all should mourne, aswell the weake as strong:
Seeing still how little Realmes by chaunge do gaine;
And therefore learned by obseruing long,
“T'admire times past, follow the present will,
“Wish for good Princes, but t'indure the ill.
39
73
For, when it nought auailes, what folly thenTo striue against the current of the time?
Who will throwe downe himselfe, for other men,
That make a ladder by his fall to clime?
Or who would seeke t'imbroyle his Country, when
He might haue rest; suffering but others crime?
“Since wise men euer haue preferred farre
“Th'vniustest peace, before the iustest warre.
74
Thus they considered, that in quiet sate,Rich or content, or else vnfit to striue:
Peace-louer wealth, hating a troublous State,
Doth willing reasons for their rest contriue:
But, if that all were thus considerate,
How should in Court, the great, the fauour'd thriue?
Factions must be, and these varieties:
And some must fall, that other-some may rise.
75
But, long the Duke remain'd not in exile,Before that Iohn of Gaunt, his father, dies:
Vpon whose state the king seis'd now, this while,
Disposing of it, as his enemies.
This open wrong no longer could beguile
The world, that saw these great indignities.
Which so exasperates the mindes of all,
That they resolu'd, him home againe to call.
40
76
For, now they saw, t'was malice in the King(Transported in his ill-conceiued thought)
That made him so to prosecute the thing
Against all law, and in a course so naught.
And this aduantage to the Duke did bring
More fit occasions; whereupon he wrought.
“For, to a man so strong, and of such might,
“He giues him more, that takes away his right.
77
The King in this meane time (I know not how)Was drawne into some actions, foorth the Land,
T'appease the Irish, that reuolted now:
And, there attending what he had in hand,
Neglects those parts from whence worse dangers growe;
As ignorant, how his affayres did stand:
Whether the plot was wrought it should be so,
Or that his fate did draw him on to go.
78
Most sure it is, that hee committed hereAn ignorant and idle ouersight;
Not looking to the Dukes proceedings there,
Being in the Court of Fraunce, where best he might;
Where both the King and all assured were
T'haue stopt his course, being within their right;
But now he was exil'd, he thought him sure;
And, free from farther doubting, liv'd secure.
41
79
So blindes the sharpest counsels of the wiseThis ouershadowing Prouidence on hie;
And dazleth all their clearest sighted eyes,
That they see not how nakedly they lie.
There where they little thinke, the storme doth rise,
And ouercasts their cleare securitie:
When man hath stopt all wayes saue onely that,
Which (as least doubted) Ruine enters at.
80
And now was all disorder in th'excesse,And whatsoeuer doth a change portend;
As, idle luxurie, and wantonnesse,
Proteus-like varying Pride, vaine without ende:
Wrong-worker Riot (motiue to oppresse)
Endless Exactions, which the idle spend;
Consuming Vsurie, and credits crackt,
Call'd-on this purging Warre, that many lackt.
81
Then Ill-perswading want, in Martiall mindes,And wronged patience (long opprest with might)
Loosenes in all (which no religion bindes)
Commaunding force (the measure made of Right)
Gaue fuell to this fire, that easie findes
The way t'inflame the whole indangerd quite:
These were the publique breeders of this Warre;
By which, still greatest States confounded are.
42
82
For, now this peace with Fraunce had shut in hereThe ouergrowing humours Warres do spend.
For, where t'euacuate no imployments were,
Wider th'vnwieldy burthen doth distend,
Men, wholly vs'd to warre, peace could not beare;
As knowing no other course, whereto to bend:
For, brought vp in the broyles of these two Reames,
They thought best fishing still, in troubled streames.
83
Like to a Riuer, that is stopt his course,Doth violate his bankes, breakes his owne bed,
Destroyes his bounds, and ouer-runs, by force,
The neighbour-fieldes, irregularly spred:
Euen so this sodaine stop of Warre doth nurse
Home broyles, within it selfe, from others led:
So dangerous the change hereof is tri'd
Ere mindes 'come soft, or otherwise imploid.
84
But, all this makes for thee, ô Bullingbrooke,To worke a way vnto thy Soueraintie.
This care, the Heauens, Fate, and Fortune tooke,
To bring thee to thy Scepter easily.
Vpon thee fall's that hap, which him forsooke,
Who, crownd a King, a King yet must not die.
Thou wert ordaind, by Prouidence, to rayse
A quarrell, lasting longer then thy dayes.
43
85
For, now this absent Lord, out of his Land(Where though he shew'd great sprite and valor then;
Being attended with a worthy band
Of valiant Peeres, and most couragious men)
Gaue time to them at home, that had in hand
Th'vngodly worke, and knew the season when:
Who faile not to aduise the Duke with speed;
Solliciting to what hee soone agreed.
86
Who presently, vpon so good report,Relying on his friends fidelitie,
Conueyes himselfe out of the French Kings Court,
Vnder pretence to go to Britannie:
And, with his followers, that to him resort,
Landed in England: Welcom'd ioyfully
Of th'altring vulgar, apt for changes still;
As headlong carried with a present will.
87
And com'n to quiet shore, but not to rest;The first night of his ioyfull landing here,
A fearefull vision doth his thoughts molest:
Seeming to see in reuerent forme appeare
44
Which, with full-weeping eyes and rented haire,
Wringing her hands (as one that griev'd and prayd)
With sighes commixt with words, vnto him said;
88
“O! whither dost thou tend, my vnkinde Sonne?“What mischiefe dost thou go-about to bring
“To her, whose Genius thou here lookst vpon,
“Thy Mother-countrey, whence thy selfe didst spring?
“Whither thus dost thou, in ambition, run,
“To change due course, by foule disordering?
“What bloodshed, what turmoyles dost thou commence,
“To last for many wofull ages hence?
89
“Stay here thy foote, thy yet vnguilty foote,“That canst not stay when thou art farther in,
“Retire thee yet vnstain'd, whil'st it doth boote;
“The end, is spoyle, of what thou dost begin:
“Iniustice neuer yet tooke lasting roote,
“Nor held that long, Impietie did win.
“The babes, vnborne, shall (ô) be borne to bleed
“In this thy quarrell, if thou do proceede.
90
This said, she ceast: when he in troubled thoughtGriev'd at this tale and sigh't, and thus replies;
“Deare Countrey, ô I haue not hither brought
“These Armes to spoyle, but for thy liberties:
45
“Who wrongd me first, and thee do tyrannise.
“I am thy Champion, and I seeke my right:
“Prouok't I am to this, by others spight.
91
“This, this pretence, saith shee, th'ambitious finde“To smooth iniustice, and to flatter wrong.
“Thou dost not know what then will be thy minde,
“When thou shalt see thy selfe aduanc't and strong.
“When thou hast shak't off that, which others binde;
“Thou soone forgettest what thou learnedst long.
“Men do not know what then themselues will bee,
“When-as, more then themselues, themselues they see.
92
And herewithall, turning about he wakes,Lab'ring in spirit, troubled with this strange sight:
And mus'd a while, waking aduisement takes
Of what had past in sleepe and silent night:
Yet hereof no important reck'ning makes,
But as a dreame that vanisht with the light:
The day designes, and what he had in hand
Left it to his diuerted thoughts vnscand.
93
Doubtfull at first, he warie doth proceed;Seemes not t'affect that, which he did effect;
Or else perhaps seemes, as he meant indeed,
Sought but his owne, and did no more expect.
Then, Fortune, thou art guiltie of his deed:
That didst his state aboue his hopes erect:
And thou must beare some blame of his great sinne;
That leftst him worse, then when he did beginne.
46
94
Thou didst conspire with Pride, and with the Time,To make so easie an ascent to wrong,
That he who had no thought so hie to clime
(With fauouring comfort still allur'd along)
Was with occasion thrust into the crime;
Seeing others weakenes and his part so strong.
“And who is there, in such a case that will
“Do good, and feare, that may liue free with ill?
95
We will not say nor thinke, O Lancaster,But that thou then didst meane as thou didst sweare
Vpon th'Euangelists at Doncaster,
In th'eye of heauen, and that assembly theare,
That thou but as an vpright orderer,
Sought'st to reforme th'abused Kingdome here,
And get thy right, and what was thine before;
And this was all; thou would'st attempt no more:
96
Though we might say, and thinke, that this pretenceWas but a shadow to the intended act;
Because th'euent doth argue the offence,
And plainely seemes to manifest the fact:
For that hereby thou mightst win confidence
With those, whom else thy course might hap distract,
And all suspicion of thy drift remoue;
“Since easily men credit whom they loue.
47
97
But, God forbid wee should so neerly pryInto the lowe-deepe-buried sinnes long past,
T'examine and conferre iniquitie,
Whereof faith would no memorie should last:
That our times might not haue t'exemplifie
With aged staines, but, with our owne shame cast,
Might thinke our blot the first, not done before;
That new-made sinnes might make vs blush the more.
98
And let vnwresting Charitie beleeueThat then thy oath with thy intent agreed;
And others faith, thy faith did first deceiue;
Thy after-fortune forc't thee to this deed.
And let no man this idle censure giue,
Because th'euent proues so, 'twas so decreed.
“For, oft our counsels sort to other end,
“Then that which frailtie did at first intend.
99
Whil'st those that are but outward lookers on(Who sildome sound these mysteries of State)
Deeme things were so contriv'd as they are done,
And hold that policie, which was but fate;
Imagining, all former acts did run
Vnto that course they see th'effects relate;
Whil'st still too short they come, or cast too far,
“And make these great men wiser then they ar.
48
100
But, by degrees he ventures now on blood;And sacrifiz'd, vnto the peoples loue,
The death of those that chiefe in enuie stood:
As, th'Officers (who first these dangers proue)
The Treasurer, and those whom they thought good,
Busby and Greene, by death he must remoue:
These were the men, the people thought, did cause
Those great exactions, and abus'd the lawes.
101
This done, his cause was preacht with learned skill,By Arundel, th'Archbishop: who there show'd
A Pardon sent from Rome, to all that will
Take part with him, and quit the faith they ow'd
To Richard; as a Prince vnfit and ill:
On whom the Crowne was fatally bestow'd.
And easie-yeelding zeale was quickly caught,
With what the mouth of grauity had taught.
102
O that this power, from euerlasting giuen(The great alliance made twixt God and vs;
Th'intelligence that earth doth hold with heauen)
Sacred Religion; ô that thou must thus
Be made to smooth our wayes vniust, vneuen;
Brought from aboue, earth-quarrels to discusse!
Must men beguile our soules, to winne our wils,
And make our Zeale the furtherer of ils?
49
103
But, the ambitious, to aduance their might,Dispense with heauen, and what Religion would.
“The armed will finde right, or els make right;
If this meanes wrought not, yet an other should.
And this and other now do all incite
To strength the faction that the Duke doth hold:
Who easily obtained what he sought;
His vertues and his loue so greatly wrought.
104
The King, still busied in this Irish warre(Which by his valour there did well succeed)
Had newes, how here his Lords reuolted are,
And how the Duke of Herford doth proceede:
In these, affaires he feares are growne too farre;
Hastes his returne from thence with greatest speed:
But was by tempests, windes, and seas debarr'd;
As if they likewise had against him warr'd.
105
But, at the length (though late) in Wales he lands:Where, thoroughly inform'd of Henries force,
And well aduertis'd how his owne case stands
(Which to his griefe he sees tends to the worse)
He leaues t'Aumarle, at Milford, all those bandes
He brought from Ireland: taking thence his course
To Conway (all disguis'd) with fourteene more,
To th'Earle of Salisburie, thither sent before:
50
106
Thinking, the Earle had rays'd some Armie there;Whom there he findes forsaken all alone:
The forces, in those parts which leuied were,
Were closely shrunke away, disperst and gone.
The king had stayd too long; and they, in feare,
Resolued euerie man to shift for one.
At this amas'd, such fortune he laments;
Foresees his fall, whereto each thing consents.
107
In this disturb'd tumultuous broken State,Whil'st yet th'euent stood doubtfull what should bee;
Whilst nought but headlong running to debate,
And glittering troupes and armor, men might see:
Furie, and feare, compassion, wrath, and hate,
Confus'd through all the land, no corner free;
The strong, all mad, to strife, to ruine bent;
The weaker waild: the aged they lament,
108
And blame their many yeeres that liue so long,To see the horrour of these miseries.
Why had not we (said they) di'd with the strong,
In forraine fieldes, in honourable wise,
In iust exployts, and noble without wrong,
And by the valiant hand of enemies?
And not thus now reserued, in our age,
To home-confusion, and disordered rage.
51
109
Vnto the Temples flocke the weake, deuout,Sad wayling Women; there to vow and pray
For husbands, brothers, or their sonnes gone out
To blood-shed: whom nor teares, nor loue could stay.
Here, graue religious Fathers (which much doubt
The sad euents these broyles procure them may)
As Prophets warne, exclaime, disswade these crimes,
By the examples fresh of other times.
110
And (ô!) what, do you now prepare, said they,Another Conquest, by these fatall wayes?
What, must your owne hands make your selues a pray
To desolation, which these tumults rayse?
What Dane, what Norman, shall prepare his way
To triumph on the spoyle of your decayes?
That, which nor Fraunce, nor all the world, could do
In vnion, shall your discord bring you to?
111
Conspire against vs, neighbour nations all,That enuie at the height whereto w'are growne:
Coniure the barbarous North, and let them call
Strange furie from farre distant shores vnknowne;
And let them altogether on vs fall,
So to diuert the ruine of our owne:
That we, forgetting what doth so incense,
May turne the hand of malice, to defence.
52
112
Calme these tempestuous spirits, O mighty Lord;This threatning storme that ouer-hangs the Land.
Make them consider, ere they 'vnsheath the sword,
How vaine is th'earth, this point whereon they stand;
And with what sad calamities is stor'd
The best of that, for which th'Ambitious band:
“Labor the ende of labor, strife of strife;
“Terror in death, and horrour after life.
113
Thus they in zeale, whose humbled thoughts were good,Whil'st in this wide-spread volume of the skies,
The booke of Prouidence disclosed stood;
Warnings of wrath, foregoing miseries
In lines of fire and characters of blood,
Their fearefull formes in dreadfull flames arise;
Amazing Comets, threatning Monarchs might,
And new-seene Starres, vnknowne vnto the night.
114
Red fierie Dragons in the ayre do flye,And burning Meteors, pointed-streaming lightes:
Bright Starres in midst of day appeare in skie,
Prodigious monsters, ghastly fearefull sights:
Strange Ghostes, and apparitions terrifie:
The wofull mother her owne birth affrightes;
Seeing a wrong deformed infant borne,
Grieues in her paines, deceiv'd in shame doth mourne.
53
115
The earth, as if afeard of blood and wounds,Trembles in terrour of these falling bloes:
The hollow concaues giue out groning sounds,
And sighing murmures, to lament our woes:
The Ocean, all at discord with his boundes,
Reiterates his strange vntimely flowes:
Nature all out of course, to checke our course,
Neglects her worke, to worke in vs remorse.
116
So great a wracke vnto it selfe doth, lo,Disorder'd proud mortalitie prepare,
That this whole frame doth euen labour so
Her ruine vnto frailty to declare:
And trauailes to fore-signifie the wo
That weake improuidence could not beware.
“For heauen and earth, and ayre and seas and all,
“Taught men to see, but not to shun their fall.
117
Is man so deare vnto the heauens, that theyRespect the wayes of earth, the workes of sinne?
Doth this great All, this Vniuersall, weigh
The vaine designes that weakenesse doth begin?
Or doth our feare, father of zeale, giue way
Vnto this errour ignorance liues in?
54
That haue their cause from other cause then ours?
118
But, these beginnings had this impious Warre,Th'vngodly blood-shed that did so defile
The beautie of thy fields, and euen did marre
The flowre of thy chiefe pride, thou fairest Ile:
These were the causes that incenst so farre
The ciuill wounding hand inrag'd with spoyle;
That now the liuing, with afflicted eye,
Looke backe with griefe on such calamitie.
The end of the first Booke.
55
THE SECOND BOOKE.
THE ARGVMENT.
King Richard mones his wrong, and wails his raigne:And here betrayd, to London he is led,
Basely attyr'd, attending Herfords traine:
Where th'one is scornd, the other VVelcomed.
His Wife, mistaking him, doth much complaine;
And both togither greatly sorrowed:
In hope to saue his life and ease his thrall,
He yeelds vp state, and Rule, and Crowne, and all.
1
In dearth of faith, and scarcitie of friendes,The late great mighty Monarch, on the shore
In th'vtmost corner of his Land, attendes
To call backe false obedience, fled before;
Toyles, and in vaine his toyle, and labour spendes:
More harts he sought to gaine, he lost the more:
56
And leaue his setting-fortune, night begunne.
2
Percy, how soone, by thy example led,The household traine forsooke their wretched Lord!
When, with thy staffe of charge dishonoured,
Thou brak'st thy fayth, not steward of thy word,
And tookst his part that after tooke thy head;
When thine owne hand had strengthned first his sword.
“For, such great merits do vpbraid, and call
“For great reward, or thinke the great too smal.
3
And Kings loue not to be beholding ought:Which makes their chiefest friends oft speed the worst.
For, those, by whom their fortunes haue bin wrought,
Put them in minde of what they were at first.
Whose doubtfull faith if once in question brought,
Tis thought they will offend because they durst:
And taken in a fault are neuer spar'd;
“Being easier to reuenge, then to reward.
4
And thus these mightie actors, sonnes of change,These partizanes of factions, often tri'd;
That, in the smoake of Innouations strange,
Builde huge vncertaine plots of vnsure pride:
And, on the hazard of a bad exchange,
Haue ventur'd all the stocke of life beside;
“Whilst Princes, rais'd, disdaine to haue bin rais'd
“By those whose helpes deserue not to be prais'd.
57
5
But thus is Richard left, and all aloneSaue with th'vnarmed title of his right;
And those braue troupes, his fortune-followers gone,
And all that pompe (the complements of might)
Th'amuzing shadowes that are cast vpon
The state of Princes, to beguile the sight,
All vanisht cleane, and only frailty left;
Himselfe, of all, besides himselfe, berest:
6
Like when some great Colossus, whose strong baseOr mightie props are shrunk or sunke away,
Fore-shewing ruine, threatning all the place
That in the danger of his fall doth stay,
All straight to better safetie flocke apace;
None rest to helpe the ruine, while they may.
“The perill great, and doubtfull the redresse,
“Men are content to leaue Right in distresse.
7
And looke, how Thames, inricht with many a Flood,And goodly Riuers (that haue made their Graues,
And buried both their names and all their good
Within his greatnes, to augment his waues)
Glides on, with pompe of Waters, vnwithstood,
Vnto the Ocean (which his tribute craues)
And layes vp all his wealth, within that powre,
Which in it selfe all greatnes doth deuowre:
58
8
So flocke the mighty, with their following traine,Vnto the all-receiuing Bullingbrooke:
Who wonders at himselfe, how hee should gaine
So many harts as now his partie tooke;
And with what ease, and with how slender paine,
His fortune giues him more then he could looke:
What he imagind neuer could be wrought
Is powrd vpon him, farre beyond his thought.
9
So, often, things which seeme at first in showe,Without the compasse of accomplishment,
Once vent'red on, to that successe do growe,
That euen the Authors do admire th'euent;
So many meanes which they did neuer knowe
Do second their designes, and do present
Straunge vnexpected helps, and chiefly then
When th'Actors are reputed worthy men.
10
And Richard, who lookt Fortune in the backe,Sees headlong-lightness running from the right,
Amazed standes to note how great a wracke
Of faith, his riots caus'd, what mortall spight
They beare him, who did law and iustice lacke;
Sees how concealed hate breakes out in sight,
And feare-depressed enuie (pent before)
When fit occasion thus vnlockt the dore.
59
11
Like when some mastiue whelpe, dispos'd to play,A whole confused heard of beastes doth chace,
Which with one vile consent run all away;
If any hardier then the rest in place
But offer head, that idle feare to stay,
Backe straight the daunted chaser turnes his face,
And all the rest (with bold example led)
As fast run on him, as before they fled:
12
So, with this bold opposer, rushes-onThis many-headed monster, Multitude:
And he, who late was feard, is set vpon,
And by his owne (Actæon-like) pursu'd;
His owne, that had all loue and awe forgone:
Whom breath and shadowes onely did delude,
And newer hopes, which promises perswade;
Though rarely men keepe promises so made.
13
Which when he saw; thus to himselfe complaines:“O why do you, fond, false-deceiued, so
“Run headlong to that change that nothing gaines,
“But gaine of sorrow, onely change of wo?
“Which is all one, if he be like who raignes:
“Why will you buy, with blood, what you forgoe?
“Tis nought, but shewes, that Ignorance esteemes:
“The thing possest is not the thing it seemes.
60
14
“And when the sinnes of Bullingbrooke shall be“As great as mine, and you vnanswered
“In these your hopes; then may you wish for me
“Your lawfull Sov'raigne, from whose faith you fled;
“And, grieued in your soules, the error see
“That shining promises had shadowed:
“As th'humorous sicke, remouing, finde no ease,
“When changed Chambers change not the disease.
15
“Then shall you finde this name of Libertie“(The watch-word of Rebellion euer vs'd;
“The idle eccho of Vncertaintie,
“That euermore the simple hath abus'd)
“But new-turnd Seruitude and Miserie;
“And euen the same and worse, before refus'd.
“Th'aspirer once attaind vnto the top,
“Cuts off those meanes by which himselfe got vp.
16
“And with a harder hand, and streighter raine,“Doth curbe that loosenes he did finde before;
“Doubting th'occasion like might serue againe,
“His owne example makes him feare the more.
“Then, ô iniurious Land, what dost thou gaine
“To aggrauate thine owne afflictions store?
“Since thou must needs obay Kings gouernement;
“And no rule, euer yet, could all content.
61
17
“What if my youth hath offered vp to lust“Licentious fruites of indiscreet desires,
“When idle heate of vainer yeeres did thrust
“That furie on: yet now when it retires
“To calmer state, why should you so distrust
“To reape that good whereto mine age aspires?
“The youth of Princes haue no boundes for sinne,
“Vnlesse themselues do make them boundes within.
18
“Who sees not, that sees ought (wo worth the while)“The easie way, that Greatnesse hath to fall?
“Enuirond with deceit, hemm'd-in with guile,
“Sooth'd vp in flatterie, fawned on of all:
“Within his owne, liuing as in exile;
“Heares but with others eares, or not at all:
“And euen is made a prey vnto a fewe,
“Who locke vp grace that would to other shewe:
19
“And who (as let in lease) do farme the Crowne,“And ioy the vse of Maiestie and might;
“Whil'st we hold but the shadow of our owne,
“Pleas'd with vaine shewes, and dallied with delight:
“They, as huge vnproportion'd mountaines, growne
“Betweene our land and vs, shadowing our light,
“Bereaue the rest of ioy, and vs of loue,
“And keepe downe all, to keepe themselues aboue.
62
20
“Which wounds, with griefe, poore vnrespected zeale,“When grace holdes no proportion in the parts;
“When distribution, in the Common-weale,
“Of charge and honour due to good desarts
“Is stopt; when others greedie hands must deale
“The benefite that Maiestie imparts:
“What good we meant, comes gleaned home but light,
“Whilst we are robd of prayse, they of their right.
21
Thus he complaind; when, lo, from Lancaster(The new intit'led Duke) with order sent
Arriv'd Northumberland, as to conferre
And make relation of the Dukes intent:
And offred there, if that he would referre
The controuersie vnto Parlement,
And punish those that had abus'd the State,
As causers of this vniuersall hate;
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22
And also see that Iustice might be hadOn those the Duke of Glosters death procur'd,
And such remov'd from Councell as were bad;
His cosin Henry would, he there assur'd,
On humble knees before his Grace be glad
To aske him pardon, to be well secur'd,
And haue his right and grace resto'rd againe:
The which was all he labour'd to obtaine.
23
And therefore doth an enterparle exhort,Perswades him leaue that vnbeseeming place,
And with a princely hardinesse resort
Vnto his people, that attend his Grace:
They meant his publique good, and not his hurt;
And would most ioyfull be to see his face:
He layes his soule to pledge, and takes his Oath,
The ost of Christ, an ostage for his troth.
24
This proffer, with such protestations, madeVnto a King that so neere danger stood,
Was a sufficient motiue to perswade,
When no way else could shew a face so good:
Th'vnhonourable meanes of safety, bade
Danger accept, what Maiesty withstood.
“When better choyses are not to be had,
“We needes must take the seeming best of bad.
64
25
Yet standes he in doubt, a while, what way to takeConferring with that small remaining troope
Fortune had left; which neuer would forsake
Their poore distressed Lord, nor neuer stoope
To any hopes the stronger part could make.
Good Carlile, Ferby, and Sir Stephen Scroope,
With that most worthy Montague, were all
That were content with Maiesty to fall.
26
Time spare, and make not sacrilegious theftVpon so memorable constancie:
Let not succeeding Ages be bereft
Of such examples of integritie:
Nor thou magnanimous Leigh must not be left
In darknesse, for thy rare fidelitie;
To saue thy faith, content to lose thy head;
That reuerent head, of good men honoured.
27
Nor will my Conscience I should iniuryThy memorie most trusty Ienico,
For b'ing not ours; though wish that Gasconie
Claym'd not, for hers, the faith we reuerence so;
65
Onely to her alone, hauing no moe:
But le'ts diuide this good betwixt vs both,
Take she thy birth, and we will haue thy troth.
28
“Graue Montague, whom long experience taught“In either fortune, thus aduis'd his King:
“Deare Sou'raigne know, the matter that is sought,
“Is onely now your Maiesty to bring
“(From out of this poore safetie you haue got)
“Into theyr hands, that else hold euery thing:
“For, now, but onely you they want, of all;
“And wanting you, they nothing theirs can call.
29
“Here haue you craggie Rocks to take your part;“That neuer will betray their faith to you:
“These trusty Mountaines here will neuer start,
“But stand t'vpbraid their shame that are vntrue.
“Here may you fence your safetie with small art,
“Against the pride of that confused Crew:
“If men will not, these verie Cliffes will fight,
“And be sufficient to defend your right.
30
“Then keepe you here, and here shall you behold,“Within short space, the slyding faith of those
“That cannot long their resolution hold,
“Repent the course their idle rashnesse chose:
66
“With least occasions discontented growes,
“And insolent those voluntarie bands;
“Presuming how, by them, he chiefly stands.
31
“And how can he those mightie troupes sustaine“Long time, where now he is, or any where?
“Besides, what discipline can he retaine
“Whereas he dares not keepe them vnder feare,
“For feare to haue them to reuolt againe?
“So that it selfe when Greatnesse cannot beare,
“With her owne waight, must needes confus'dly fall,
“Without the helpe of other force at all.
32
“And hither to approche hee will not dare;“Where deserts, rockes, and hilles, no succours giue;
“Where desolation, and no comforts are;
“Where few can do no good, many not liue.
“Besides, we haue the Ocean to prepare
“Some other place, if this should not relieue:
“So shall you tire his force, consume his strength,
“And weary all his followers, out, at length.
33
“Doe but referre to time, and to small time;“And infinite occasions you shall finde
“To quaile the Rebell, euen in the prime
“Of all his hopes, beyond all thought of minde:
“For, many (with the conscience of the crime)
“In colder blood will curse what they design'd:
67
“Drawes them, whom others draw, from such an act.
34
“For, if the least imagin'd ouerture“But of conceiv'd reuolt men once espie;
“Straight shrinke the weake, the great will not indure,
“Th'impatient run, the discontented flie:
“The friend his friends example doth procure,
“And all togither haste them presently
“Some to their home, some hide: others, that stay,
“To reconcile themselues, the rest betray.
35
“What hope haue you, that euer Bullingbrooke“Will liue a Subiect, that hath tri'd his fate?
“Or what good reconcilement can you looke,
“Where he must alwayes feare, and you must hate?
“And neuer thinke that he this quarrell tooke
“To reobtaine thereby his priuate state.
“T'was greater hopes, that hereto did him call:
“And he will thrust for all, or else lose all.
36
“Nor trust this suttle Agent, nor his oth.“You knowe his faith: you tri'd it before hand.
“His fault is death: and now to lose his troth,
“To saue his life, he will not greatly stand.
“Nor trust your kinsmans proffer; since you, both
“Shew, blood in Princes is no stedfast band.
“What though he hath no title? he hath might:
“That makes a title, where there is no right.
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37
Thus he: when that good Bishop thus replies,Out of a minde that quiet did affect:
“My Lord, I must confesse, as your case lies,
“You haue great cause your Subiects to suspect,
“And counterplot against their subtelties,
“Who all good care and honestie neglect;
“And feare the worst what insolence may do,
“Or armed fury may incense them to.
38
“But yet, my Lord, feare may aswell transport“Your care, beyond the truth of what is meant;
“As otherwise neglect may fall too short,
“In not examining of their intent:
“But, let vs weigh the thing which they exhort.
“Tis Peace, Submission, and a Parlement:
“Which, how expedient 'tis for either part,
“Twere good we iudg'd with an vnpartiall hart.
39
“And first, for you my Lord, in griefe we see“The miserable case wherein you stand;
“Voyde here of succour, helpe, or maiestie,
“On this poore promontorie of your Land:
“And where how long a time your Grace may be
“(Expecting what may fall into your hand)
“Wee know not; since th'euent of things do lie
“Clos'd vp in darkenes, farre from mortall eye.
69
40
“And how vnfit it were, you should protract“Long time, in this so dangerous disgrace?
“As though that you good spirit and courage lackt
“To issue out of this opprobrious place:
“When euen the face of Kings do oft exact
“Feare and remorse in faultie subiects base;
“And longer stay a great presumption drawes
“That you were guilty, or did doubt your cause.
41
“What Subiects euer so inrag'd would dare“To violate a Prince, t'offend the blood
“Of that renowmed race, by which they are
“Exalted to the height of all their good?
“What if some things by chaunce misguided were,
“Which they haue now rebelliously withstood?
“They neuer will proceed with that despight
“To wracke the State, and to confound the right,
42
“Nor doe I think that Bullingbrooke can bee“So blind-ambitious, to affect the Crowne;
“Hauing himselfe no title, and doth see
“Others, if you should fayle, must keepe him downe.
“Besides, the Realme, though mad, will neuer gree
“To haue a right succession ouerthrowne;
“To rayse confusion vpon them and theirs,
“By preiudicing true and lawfull heires.
70
43
“And now it may be, fearing the successe‘Of his attemptes, or with remorse of minde,
“Or else distrusting secret practises,
“He would be glad his quarrell were resign'd;
“So that there were some orderly redresse
“In those disorders which the Realme did finde:
“And this, I thinke, he now sees were his best;
“Since farther actions further but vnrest.
44
“And, for th'impossibilitie of peace“And reconcilement, which my Lord obiects;
“I thinke, when doing iniurie shall cease
“(The cause pretended) then surcease th'effects:
“Time and some other Actions may increase
“As may diuert the thought of these respects;
“Others law of forgetting iniuries
“May serue our turne in like calamities.
45
“And for his oath, in conscience, and in sense,“True honour would not so be found vntrue,
“Nor spot his blood with such a foule offence
“Against his soule, against his God, and you.
“Our Lord forbid, that ever with th'expence
“Of heauen and heauenly ioyes, that shall insue,
“Mortalitie should buy this little breath,
“T'indure the horror of eternall death.
71
46
“And therefore, as I thinke, you safely may“Accept this proffer; that determine shall
“All doubtfull courses by a quiet way,
“Needfull for you, fit for them, good for all.
“And here, my Sov'raigne, to make longer stay
“T'attend for what you are vnsure will fall,
“May slippe th'occasion, and incense their will:
“For, Feare, that's wiser then the truth, doth ill.
47
Thus he perswades, out of a zealous minde;Supposing, men had spoken as they ment:
And, vnto this, the King likewise inclin'd:
As wholly vnto peace, and quiet bent:
And yeeldes himselfe to th'Earle, goes, leaues-behind
His safetie, Scepter, Honor, Gouernement:
For, gone, all's gone: he is no more his owne;
And they rid quite of feare, he of the Crowne.
48
A place there is, where proudly rais'd there standsA huge aspiring Rock, neighb'ring the Skies;
Whose surly brow imperiously commaunds
The Sea his boundes, that at his proud feete lies:
And spurnes the waues, that in rebellious bands
Assault his Empire, and against him rise:
Vnder whose craggy gouernment, there was
A niggard narrow way for men to passe.
72
49
And here, in hidden cliffes, concealed layA troope of armed men, to intercept
The vnsuspecting King, that had no way
To free his foote, that into danger stept.
The dreadfull Ocean, on the one side, lay:
The hard-incroching Mountaine th'other kept:
Before him, he beheld his hateful foes:
Behind him, trayterous enemies inclose.
50
Enuiron'd thus, the Earle begins to cheereHis al-amased Lord, by him betrayde;
Bids him take courage, ther's no cause of feare,
These troopes, but there to guard him safe, were layd.
To whom the King; What neede so many here?
This is against your oath, my Lord, he said.
But, now hee sees in what distresse he stood:
To striue, was vaine; t'intreat, would do no good.
51
And therefore on with careful hart he goes;Complaines (but, to himselfe) sighes, grieues, and freats;
At Rutland dines, though feedes but on his woes:
The griefe of minde hindred the minde of meats.
For, sorrow, shame, and feare, scorne of his foes,
The thought of what he was, and what now threats,
Then what he should, and now what he hath done,
Musters confused passions all in one.
73
52
To Flint, from thence, vnto a restless bed,That miserable night, he comes conuayd;
Poorely prouided, poorely followed,
Vncourted, vnrespected, vnobayd:
Where, if vncertaine sleepe but hoouered
Ouer the drooping cares that heauy weigh'd;
Millions of figures, fantasie presents
Vnto that sorrow, wakened griefe augments.
53
His new misfortune makes deluding sleepeSay 'twas not so (False dreames the trueth denie).
Wherewith he starts; feels waking cares do creepe
Vpon his soule, and giues his dreame the lie;
Then sleepes againe: and then againe, as deepe
Deceites of darknes mocke his miserie.
So hard believ'd was sorrow in her youth:
That he thinks truth was dreams, & dreams were truth.
54
The morning light presents vnto his view(Walking vpon a turret of the place)
The trueth of what hee sees is prov'd too true;
A hundred thousand men, before his face,
Came marching on the shore, which thither drew:
And, more to aggrauate his great disgrace,
Those he had wronged, or done to them despight,
(As if they him vpbrayd) came first in sight.
74
55
There might hee see that false forsworne vile crue,Those shameless agents of vnlawfull lust,
His Pandars, Parasites (people vntrue
To God and man, vnworthy any trust)
Preacing vnto that fortune that was new,
And with vnblushing faces formost thrust;
As those that still with prosperous fortune sort,
And are as borne for Corte, or made in Cort.
56
There hee beheld, how humbly diligentNew Adulation was to be at hand;
How ready Falsehood stept; how nimbly went
Base pick-thank Flattery, and preuents Command:
Hee saw the great obay, the graue consent,
And all with this new-rays'd Aspirer stand;
But, which was worst, his owne part acted there,
Not by himselfe; his powre, not his, appeare.
57
Which whilst he view'd, the Duke he might perceiueMake towards the Castle, to an interview.
75
And downe into some fitter place withdrew;
Where now he must admitte, without his leaue,
Him, who before with all submission due
Would haue beene glad, t'attend, and to prepare
The grace of audience, with respectiue care.
58
Who now being come in presence of his king(Whether the sight of Maiestie did breed
Remorse of what he was incompassing,
Or whether but to formalize his deed)
He kneeles him downe with some astonishing,
Rose; kneeles againe: (for, craft wil still exceed)
When-as the king approch't, put off his Hood,
And welcomd him, though wisht him little good.
76
59
“To whom, the Duke began: My Lord, I knowe“That both vncall'd, and vnexpected too,
“I haue presumed in this sort to showe
“And seeke the right which I am borne vnto:
“Yet pardon I beseech you, and allow
“Of that constraint, which driues me thus to doo.
“For, since I could not by a fairer course
“Attaine mine owne, I must vse this of force.
77
60
“Well: so it seemes, deare Cosin, said the King;“Though you might haue procur'd it otherwise:
“And I am here content, in euery thing
“To right you, as your selfe shal best deuise:
“And God voutsafe, the force that here you bring
“Beget not England greater iniuries.
And so they part: the Duke made haste from thence:
It was no place to ende this difference.
61
Straight towards London, in this heate of pride,They forward set; as they had fore-decreed:
With whom, the Captiue King constraind must ride,
Most meanely mounted on a simple Steed:
Degraded of all grace and ease beside,
Thereby neglect of all respect to breed.
For, th'ouer-spreading pompe of prouder might
Must darken vveaknes, and debase his sight.
62
Approaching neere the Cittie, hee was metWith all the sumptuous shewes ioy could deuise:
Where new-desire to please did not forget
To passe the vsuall pompe of former guise.
78
Runnes-on, beyond all bounds, to nouelties:
And voyce, and hands, and knees, and all do now
A strange deformed forme of welcome showe.
63
And manifold Confusion running greetes,Shoutes, cries, claps hands, thrusts, striues and presses neere:
Houses impov'risht were, t'inrich the streetes,
And streetes left naked, that (vnhappie) were
Plac't from the sight where Joy with Wonder meetes;
Where all, of all degrees, striue to appeare;
Where diuers-speaking Zeale one murmure findes,
In vndistinguisht voyce to tell their mindes.
64
He that in glorie of his fortune sate,Admiring what hee thought could neuer be,
Did feele his blood within salute his state,
And lift vp his reioycing soule, to see
So many hands and hearts congratulate
Th'aduancement of his long-desir'd degree;
When, prodigall of thankes, in passing by,
He resalutes them all, with chearefull eye.
65
Behind him, all aloofe, came pensiue onThe vnregarded King; that drooping went
Alone, and (but for spight) scarce lookt vpon:
Iudge, if hee did more enuie, or lament.
79
Which th'image of both fortunes doth present:
In th'one, to shew the best of glories face;
In th'other, worse then worst of all disgrace.
66
Novv Isabell, the young afflicted Queene(Whose yeares had neuer shew'd her but delights,
Nor louely eyes before had euer seene
Other then smiling ioyes, and ioyfull sights;
Borne great, matcht great, liv'd great, and euer beene
Partaker of the worlds best benefits)
Had plac't her selfe, hearing her Lord should passe
That way, where she vnseene in secret was;
68
Sicke of delay, and longing to beholdHer long-mist Loue in fearefull ieoperdies:
To whom, although it had, in sort, beene told
Of their proceeding, and of his surprize;
Yet thinking they would neuer be so bold
To lead their Lord in any shamefull wise,
But rather would conduct him as their King;
As seeking but the States reordering.
69
And foorth shee lookes, and notes the formost traine;And grieues to view some there she wisht not there:
Seeing the chiefe not come, stayes, lookes againe;
And yet she sees not him that should appeare:
Then backe she stands, and then desires as faine
Againe to looke, to see if hee were neere:
80
Perceiues the throng, and heares the shouts and cries.
70
Lo, yonder now at length he comes, sayth shee:Looke, my goode women, where he is in sight:
Do you not see him? yonder, that is hee,
Mounted on that white Courser, all in white,
There where the thronging troupes of people bee;
I know him by his seate, he sits s'vpright:
Lo, now he bowes: deare Lord, with what sweet grace!
How long, haue I longd to behold that face!
71
O what delight my hart takes by mine eye!I doubt me, when he comes but something neere,
I shall set wide the window: what care I
Who doth see me, so him I may see cleare?
Thus doth false ioy delude her wrongfully
(Sweete Lady) in the thing she held so deare.
For, neerer come, she findes she had mistooke;
And him she markt, was Henrie Bullingbrooke.
72
Then Enuie takes the place in her sweet eyes,Where Sorrow had prepar'd her selfe a seat:
And words of wrath, from whence complaints should rise,
Proceed from egre lookes, and browes that threat:
Traytor, saith shee; ist thou, that in this wise
To braue thy Lord and King, art made so great?
And haue mine eyes done vnto me this wrong,
To looke on thee? for this, staid I so long?
81
73
Ah, haue they grac't a periur'd Rebell so?Well; for their errour I will weepe them out,
And hate the tongue defil'd, that praysde my foe,
And loath the minde, that gaue me not to doubt:
What? haue I added shame vnto my woe?
Ile looke no more: Ladies, looke you about,
And tell me if my Lord be in this traine;
Least my betraying eyes should erre againe.
74
And in this passion turnes her selfe away:The rest looke all, and carefull note each wight;
Whil'st she, impatient of the least delay,
Demaundes againe; And what, not yet in sight?
Where is my Lord? What, gone some other way?
I muse at this. O God, graunt all goe right:
Then to the window goes againe at last,
And sees the chiefest traine of all was past;
75
And sees not him her soule desir'd to see:And yet hope, spent, makes her not leaue to looke.
At last, her loue-quicke eyes, which ready be,
Fastens on one; whom though she neuer tooke
Could be her Lord; yet that sad cheere which hee
Then shew'd, his habit and his woful looke,
The grace he doth in base attire retaine,
Caus'd her she could not from his sight refraine.
82
76
What might he be, she said, that thus aloneRides pensiue in this vniuersall ioy?
Some I perceiue, as well as we, do mone:
All are not pleas'd with euery thing this day.
It may be, hee laments the wrong is done
Vnto my Lord, and grieues; as well he may.
Then he is some of ours: and we, of right,
Must pittie him, that pitties our sad plight.
77
But stay: ist not my Lord himselfe I see?In truth, if 'twere not for his base aray,
I verily should thinke that it were hee;
And yet his basenes doth a grace bewray:
Yet God forbid; let me deceiued be,
And be it not my Lord, although it may:
Let my desire make vowes against desire;
And let my sight approue my sight a lier.
78
Let me not see him, but himselfe; a King:For so he left me; so he did remoue.
This is not he: this feeles some other thing;
A passion of dislike, or else of loue.
O yes; 'tis he: that princely face doth bring
The euidence of Maiestie to prooue:
That face, I haue conferr'd, which now I see,
With that within my heart, and they agree.
83
79
Thus as she stood assur'd, and yet in doubt;Wishing to see, what seene she griev'd to see;
Hauing beliefe, yet faine would be without;
Knowing, yet striuing not to know 'twas hee:
Her heart relenting, yet her heart so stout
As would not yeeld to thinke what was, could be:
Till, quite condemn'd by open proofe of sight,
Shee must confesse; or else denie the light.
80
For, whether loue in him did sympathize,Or chaunce so wrought, to manifest her doubt;
Euen iust before, where she thus secret pries,
He stayes, and with cleare face lookes all about;
When she: Tis, ô, too true; I know his eyes:
Alas, it is my owne deare Lord cries out:
And, with that crie, sinks downe vpon the flore:
Abundant griefe lackt words to vtter more.
81
Sorrow keepes full possession in her heart,Lockes it within, stops vp the way of breath,
Shuts senses out of doore from euerie part;
And so long holdes there, as it hazardeth
84
Or else must be constrain'd to stay with death:
So, by a sigh, it lets in sense againe;
And sense, at length, giues words leaue to complaine.
82
Then, like a torrent had beene stopt before,Teares, sighes, and words, doubled togither flowe;
Confus'dly striuing whether should do more,
The true intelligence of griefe to showe.
Sighes hindred words: words perisht in their store:
Both, intermixt in one, together growe.
One would do all: the other, more then's part;
Being both sent equall Agents, from the hart.
83
At length, when past the first of sorrowes worst,When calm'd confusion better forme affordes;
Her heart commands, her words should passe out first,
And then her sighes should interpoint her words;
The whiles her eyes out into teares should burst:
This order with her sorrow she accordes;
Which, orderless, all forme of order brake:
So, then began her wordes, and thus she spake;
84
What? dost thou thus returne againe to mee?Are these the triumphs, for thy victories?
Is this the glorie thou dost bring with thee,
From that vnhappie Irish enterprise?
85
Thy safe returne, and see thee in this wise?
Is this the lookt-for comfort thou dost bring?
To come a Captiue, that wentst out a King?
85
And yet, deare Lord, though thy vngratefull LandHath left thee thus; yet I will take thy part:
I doo remaine the same, vnder thy hand;
Thou still dost rule the kingdome of my hart:
If all be lost, that gouernment doth stand;
And that shall neuer from thy rule depart:
And so thou bee, I care not how thou bee:
Let Greatnes goe; so it goe without thee.
86
And welcome come, how-so vnfortunate;I will applaud what others do despise:
I loue thee for thy selfe, not for thy State:
More then thy selfe, is what without thee, lies:
Let that more goe, if it be in thy fate:
And hauing but thy selfe, it will suffize:
I married was not to thy Crowne, but thee;
And thou, without a Crowne, all one to mee.
87
But what do I, heere lurking idlie, moneAnd wayle apart, and in a single part
Make seuerall griefe; which should be both in one;
The touch being equall of each others hart.
Ah, no: sweet Lord, thou must not mone alone.
For, without me, thou art not all thou art;
86
For thus vnioyn'd, sorrow but halfe appeares.
88
Ioyne then our plaints, and make our griefe full griefe:Our state being one, let vs not part our care.
Sorrow hath onely this poore bare reliefe,
To be bemon'd of such as wofull are.
And should I rob thy griefe, and be the thiefe
To steale a priuate part, and seuerall share,
Defrawding sorrow of her perfect due?
No, no, my Lord; I come to helpe thee rue.
89
Then foorth she goes, a close concealed way(As grieuing to be seene not as she was);
Labors t'attaine his presence all she may:
Which, with most hard a-do, was brought to passe.
For, that night, vnderstanding where he lay,
With earnest 'treating she procur'd her Passe
To come to him: Rigor could not denie
Those teares, so poore a suite, or put her by.
90
Entring the chamber, where he was alone(As one whose former fortune was his shame)
Loathing th'vpbrayding eye of any one
That knew him once, and knowes him not the same:
When hauing giuen expresse command that none
Should presse to him; yet hearing some that came
Turnes angerly about his grieued eyes:
When, lo, his sweete afflicted Queene he spyes.
87
91
Straight cleares his brow; and with a borrowed smile,What, my deare Queene? welcome, my deare, he sayes:
And (striuing his owne passion to beguile,
And hide the sorrow which his eye betrayes)
Could speake no more; but wrings her hands, the while:
And then, Sweet Lady; and againe he stayes:
Th'excesse of ioy and sorrow both affordes
Affliction none, or but poore niggard wordes.
92
Shee that was come with a resolved hart,And with a mouth full stor'd, with wordes well chose;
Thinking, This comfort wil I first impart
Vnto my Lord, and thus my speach dispose:
Then thus Ile say, thus looke, and with this art
Hide mine owne sorrow to relieue his woes;
When being come, all this prov'd nought but winde;
Teares, lookes, and sighes, do only tell her minde.
93
Thus both stood silent and confused so,Their eyes relating how their hearts did morne:
Both bigge with sorrow, and both great with wo
In labour with what was not to be borne:
This mightie burthen, wherewithall they goe,
Dies vndeliuered, perishes vnborne;
Sorrow makes silence her best Orator,
Where words may make it lesse, not shew it more.
88
94
But he, whom longer time had learn'd the artT'indure affliction, as a vsuall touch;
Straines foorth his wordes, and throwes dismay apart,
To rayse vp her, whose passions now were such
As quite opprest her ouercharged hart
(Too small a vessell to containe so much)
And cheeres and mones, and fained hopes doth frame,
As if himselfe beleeu'd, or hop't the same.
95
And now, the while these Princes sorrowed,Forward Ambition (come so neere her ende)
Sleepes not, nor slippes th'occasion offered,
T'accomplish what it did before intend:
A Parlement is foorthwith summoned
In Richards name; whereby they might pretend
A forme, to grace disorder, and a showe
Of holy right, the right to ouerthrowe.
96
Order, how much predominant art thou!That if but onely thou pretended art;
How soone, deceiv'd mortalitie doth bow
To follow thine, as still the better part!
Tis thought, that reuerent Forme will not allow
Iniquitie, or sacred right peruart.
Within our soules, since then thou dwell'st so strong;
How ill do they, that vse thee, to do wrong!
89
97
So ill did they, that in this formall courseSought to establish a deformed right:
Who might as well effected it by force;
But that men hold it wrong, what's wrought by might.
Offences vrg'd in publique are made worse:
The shew of iustice aggrauates despight.
“The multitude, that looke not to the cause,
“Rest satisfied, so it seeme done by lawes.
98
And now they diuerse articles obiectOf rigor, malice, priuate fauourings,
Exaction, riot, falsehood, and neglect;
Crimes done, but sildome answered by Kings:
Which Subiectes doe lament, but not correct.
And all these faults, which Lancaster now brings
Against a King, must be his owne, when hee,
By vrging others sinnes, a King shall be.
99
For, all that was most odious was deuis'd,And publisht in these articles abrode.
All th'errours of his youth were here compris'd,
Calamitie with obloquie to lode:
90
Libels, inuectiues, rayling rimes, were sow'd
Among the vulgar, to prepare his fall
With more applause and good consent of all.
100
Looke how the day-hater, Mineruas bird,Whil'st priuiledg'd with darknes and the night,
Doth liue secure t'himselfe, of others feard;
If but by chaunce discouered in the light,
How doth each little Fowle (with enuie stirr'd)
Call him to iustice, vrge him with despight;
Summon the feathered flockes of all the wood,
To come to scorne the tyrant of their blood:
101
So fares this King, lay'd open to disgrace,Whil'st euerie mouth full of reproche inuayes;
And euerie base detractor, in this case,
Vpon th'aduantage of misfortune playes:
Downe-falling Greatnes, vrged on apace,
Was followed-hard, by all disgracefull wayes;
Now in the point t'accelerate an end,
Whil'st miserie had no meanes to defend.
102
Vpon those articles in ParlementSo haynous made, inforc't, and vrg'd so hard,
He was adiudg'd vnfit for gouernment,
And of all regal powre and rule debarr'd:
For, who durst contradict the Dukes intent?
Or, if they durst, should patiently be heard?
91
Being far the maior part, the cause must beare.
103
Yet must we thinke, that some which saw the course(The better fewe, whom passion made not blinde)
Stood careful lookers-on, with sad commorse,
Amaz'd to see what headlong rage design'd:
And, in a more considerate discourse
Of tragicall euentes, thereof diuin'd;
And would excuse and pittie those defects,
Which, with such hate, the aduerse parte obiects:
104
“Saying, better yeeres might worke a better care,“And time might well haue cur'd what was amisse;
“Since all these faults fatall to Greatnes are,
“And worse deserts haue not beene punisht thus:
“But yet in this, the heauens, we feare, prepare
“Confusion for our sinnes, aswell as his;
“And his calamitie beginneth our:
“For, he his owne, and we abus'd his powre.
105
Thus murmur'd they; when to the king were sentCertaine who might perswade him to forsake
And leaue his Crowne, and with his free consent
A voluntarie Resignation make;
92
These dangers which he else must needes partake:
For, not to yeeld, to what feare would constraine,
Would barre the hope of life, that did remaine.
106
And yet this scarce could worke him to consentTo yeeld vp that so soone, men hold so deare.
Why, let him take (sayd he) the gouernement,
And let me yet the name, the title beare:
Leaue me that shewe, and I wil be content;
And let them rule and gouerne without feare.
What, can they not my shadow now indure,
When they of all the rest do stand secure?
107
Let me hold that, I aske no other good:Nay, that I will hold; Henrie do thy worst,
For, ere I yeeld my Crowne, I'le lose my blood;
That blood, that shall make thee and thine accurst.
Thus resolute a while he firmly stood,
Till loue of life, and feare of being forc't,
Vanquisht th'innated valour of his minde;
And hope, and friends, so wrought, that he resign'd.
108
Then to the Towre (where he remained) wentThe Duke, with all the Peeres in company,
To take his offer with his free consent,
And this his Resignation testifie;
And thereof to informe the Parlement,
That all things might be done more formally,
93
As of an act not forc't, or falsifide.
109
And forth h'is brought vnto th'accomplishment,Deckt with the Crowne in princely robes that day;
Like as the dead, in other Landes are sent
Vnto their Graues, in all their best aray:
And euen like good, did him this ornament.
For, what he brought, he must not beare away;
But buries there his glory and his name,
Intomb'd both in his owne and others blame.
94
110
And there vnto th'assembly of these States,His sorrow for their long indured wrong
Through his abus'd authority relates,
Excuses wish confessions mixt among:
And glad he sayes, to finish all debates,
He was to leaue the Rule they sought-for long;
Protesting, if it might be for their good,
He would as gladly sacrifice his blood.
111
There, he his Subiectes all (in generall)Assoyles and quites of oath and fealtie,
Renounces interest, title, right and all
That appertaind to kingly dignitie;
Subscribes thereto, and doth to witnesse call
Both heauen and earth, and God, & Saints on hie,
To testifie his act, and doth professe
To do the same with most free willingnesse.
112
Tis said, with his owne hands he gaue the CrowneTo Lancaster, and wisht to God he might
Haue better ioy thereof then he had knowne,
And that his power might make it his by right:
And furthermore he crav'd, of all his owne,
But life, to liue apart a priuate wight;
The vanity of Greatnes he had tri'd,
And how vnsurely standes the foote of pride.
95
113
This brought to passe, the Lords returne with speed,The Parlement hereof to certifie;
Where, they at large publisht the Kings owne deed,
And forme of his resignement verbally:
And thereupon doth Lancaster proceede
To make his claime vnto the Monarchie;
And shewes the right he hath, both by descent,
And by recouerie, to the gouernement.
114
Which being granted, Canterburie roseAnd animates them, by the sacred word,
“In this their course: and by his Text, he showes
“How well they made their choyce of such a Lord;
“Who, as a man was able to dispose
“And guide the State: and how the royall sworde
“Ought to be at a mans commandement;
“Not at a childes, or one as impotent.
96
115
“Since, when the greatnes of his charge exceedes“The smallnesse of his powers, he must collate
“The same on others: whence, sayes he, proceedes
“This rauenous expilation of the State;
“Whence no man any more the publike heedes,
“Then so much as imports his priuate state.
“Our Health is from our head: if that be ill,
“Distemp'red, faint, and weake, all the rest will.
97
116
“Then to the present, all his speach he drawes,“And shewes what admirable parts abound
“In this braue Prince; being fit to giue them lawes,
“Fit for his valour, fit for iudgement sound.
And Lancaster, indeed I would thy cause
Had had as lawfull and as sure a ground,
As had thy vertues, and thy noble hart,
Ordaind, and borne for an Imperial part.
98
117
Then had not that confus'd succeeding AgeOur fieldes ingrayn'd with bloud, our riuers dy'd
With purple-streaming woundes of our owne rage,
Nor seene our Princes slaughtred, Peeres destroyd.
99
Warre vvith thy selfe, nor those afflictions try'd
Of all consuming discorde here so long;
Too mightie novv, against thy selfe too strong.
The ende of the second Booke.
100
[[THE THIRD BOOKE.]]
THE ARGVMENT OF THE THIRD BOOKE.
Henrie, the fourth, the Crowne established.The Lords, that did to Glosters death consent,
Degraded, do rebell, are vanquished.
King Richard, vnto Pomfret Castle sent,
Is by a cruell Knight there murthered,
After the Lords had had their punishment.
His Corps, from thence, to London is conuayd;
And there, for all to view, is open layd.
1
Now risen is that Head, by which did springThe birth of two strong Heads, two Crownes, two rights;
That monstrous shape, that afterward did bring
Deform'd confusion to distracted wights.
101
That fill'd the world with lamentable sights:
And now, attain'd, all care is how to frame
Meanes to establish, and to hold the same.
2
First, he attends to build a strong conceiptOf his vsurped powre, in peoples mindes;
And armes his cause with furniture of weight:
Which easily the sword, and Greatnesse findes.
Succession, Conquest, and election straight
Suggested are, and prov'd in all their kindes.
More then ynough they finde, who finde their might
Hath force to make all, that they will haue, Right.
3
Though one of these might verie well suffiseHis present approbation to procure.
“But who his own cause makes, doth stil deuise
“To make too much, to haue it more then sure.
“Feare casts too deepe, and euer is too wise:
“No vsuall plots, the doubtfull can secure.
And all these disagreeing Claymes he had,
With hope to make one good of many bad.
102
4
Like vnto him that fears, and faine would stopAn inundation working-on apace,
Runs to the Breach, heapes mightie matter vp,
Throwes indigested burthens on the place,
Lodes with huge weights, the out-side, & the top,
But leaues the inner partes in feeble case;
Whil'st th'vnder-searching water, working-on,
Beares (proudly) downe, all that was idly don:
5
So fares it with our indirect desseignes,And wrong contriued labors, at the last;
Whil'st working Time, and iustice vndermines
The feeble frame, held to be wrought so fast:
Then when out-breaking vengeance vncombines
The ill-ioyn'd plots so fayrely ouer-cast;
Turnes vp those huge pretended heapes of showes,
And all these weake illusions ouer-throwes.
103
6
But, after, hauing made his title plaine,Vnto his Coronation he proceedes:
Which, in most sumptuous sort (to intertaine
The gazing vulgar, whom this splendor feeds)
Is stately furnisht, with a glorious traine:
Wherein, the former Kings he far exceedes;
And all t'amuse the world, and turne the thought
Of what & how 'twas done, to what is wrought.
7
And that he might on many props repose,He strengths his owne, & who his part did take:
New Officers, new Councellors he chose:
His eldest sonne, the Prince of Wales doth make;
His second, Lord high Steward: and, to those
Had hazarded their fortunes for his sake,
He giues them charge, as merites their deseart;
And rayses them, by crushing th'aduerse part.
8
So that hereby, the vniuersall faceOf Court, with all the Offices of State
Are wholly chang'd, by death, or by disgrace,
Vpon th'aduantage of the peoples hate;
104
“(Whom neither worth nor vertue, but their fate
“Exalted hath) doo, when their Kings doo naught
“(Because it's in their powre) iudge it their faute.
9
And in their steed, such as were popular,And wel-deseruing, were aduanc't by grace.
Graue Shirley, he ordaines Lord Chancelor;
Both worthy for his vertues, and his race:
And Norburie hee appoints for Treasurer;
A man, though meane, yet fit to vse that place:
And others, t'other roomes; whom people hold
So much more lov'd, how much they loath the old.
10
And it behoues him now to doo his bestT'approue his vow, and oath made to the State:
And many great disorders he redrest;
Which alwayes Vsurpation makes the gate
To let it selfe into the peoples brest,
And seekes the publike best t'accommodate:
Wherein, Iniustice better doth then Right:
“For, who reproues the lame, must go vpright.
105
11
Though it be easie to accuse a State,Of imperfection and misgouernment:
And easie to beget in people hate
Of present Rule, which cannot all content;
And fewe attempt it, that effect it not:
Yet, t'introduce a better gouernment
In steed thereof, if we t'example looke,
The vnder-takers haue beene ouer-tooke.
12
Then, against those he strictly doth proceed,Who chiefe of Glosters death were guiltie thought;
Not so much for the hatred of that deed:
But, vnder this pretext, the meanes he sought
To ruine such whose might did much exceed
His powre to wrong, nor else could well be wrought.
Law, Iustice, blood, the zeale vnto the dead,
Were on his side, and his drift coloured.
13
Here, many of the greatest of the LandAccus'd were of the act, strong proofes brought out;
Which strongly were refell'd: the Lords all stand,
To cleare their Cause, most resolutely stout:
The King, perceiuing what he tooke in hand
Was not with safety to be brought-about,
Desists to vrge their death, in any wise;
Respecting number, strength, friends, and allies.
106
14
Nor was it time now, in his tender raigne,And infant-young-beginning gouernement,
To striue, with blood; when lenitie must gaine
The mightie men, and please the discontent.
“New Kings do feare; when old Courts farther straine:
Establisht States to all things will consent.
He must dispense with his will, and their crime,
And seeke t'oppresse and weare them out with time.
15
Yet not to seeme, but to haue something done,In what he could, not as he would effect;
To satisfie the people (that begun,
Reuenge of wrong and iustice to expect)
He caus'd be put to execution, one,
Who to performe this murther was elect;
A base companion, few, or none would misse:
Who first did serue their turne; and now serues his.
16
And, to abase the too high state of thoseThat were accus'd, and lessen their degrees,
Aumarle, Surry, Exceter, must lose
The names of Dukes; their titles, dignities,
And whatsoeuer honour with it goes;
The Earles, their titles and their Signories:
And all they got in th'end of Richards raigne,
Since Glosters death, they must restore againe;
107
17
By this, as if by Ostracisme, t'abateThat great presumptiue wealth, whereon they stand.
For, first, hereby impov'rishing their state,
He killes the meanes they might have to withstand:
Then equals them with other whom they hate
Who (by their spoyles) are raisd to hie command;
That weake, and enuied, if they should conspire,
They wracke themselues, and he hath his desire.
18
Yet, by this grace (which must be held a grace)As both they, and the world, are made beleeue,
He thinks t'haue dealt benignly in this case,
And left them state ynough, to let them liue;
And that the taking, from thē, meanes & place,
Was nothing, in respect what hee did giue:
But they, that knowe how their owne reckning goes,
Account not what they haue, but what they lose.
19
The Parlement, which now is held, decreedWhat-euer pleas'd the King but to propound;
Confirm'd the Crowne, to him, and to his seed,
And by their oath their due obedience bound:
108
And made what-euer broken courses sound.
For, what he got by fortune, fauour, might,
It was the State that now must make his right.
20
Here was agreed, to make all more secure,That Richard should remaine, for euermore,
Close-prisoner; least the Realme might chaunce indure
Some new reuolt, or any fresh vp-rore:
And, that if any should such broyle procure,
By him, or for him, he should die therefore.
So that a talke of tumult, and a breath,
Would serue him as his passing bell to death.
21
Yet, reuerent Carlile, thou didst there opposeThy holy voyce, to saue thy Princes blood;
And freely checktst this iudgement, and his foes:
When all were bad, yet thou dar'dst to be good.
Be it inrold (that time may neuer lose
The memorie) how firme thy courage stood;
When powre, disgrace, nor death, could ought diuert
Thy glorious tongue, thus, to reueale thy heart.
22
“Graue, reuerent Lords, since that this sacred place“Our Auentine-Retire, our holy hill
“(This place, soule of our State, the Realmes best grace)
“Doth priuiledge me speake what reason will:
109
“Least sinne of silence shew my hart was ill:
“And let these walles witnesse, if you will not,
“I do discharge my soule, of this foule blot.
23
“Neuer shall this poore breath of mine consent,“That he that two and twentie yeeres hath raignd
“As lawfull Lord, and King by iust descent,
“Should here be iudg'd, vnheard, and vnarraignd;
“By Subiects too (Iudges incompetent
“To iudge their King vnlawfully detaind)
“And vnbrought-foorth to plead his guiltless Cause;
“Barring th'Annoynted, libertie of lawes.
24
“Haue you not done inough, with what is done?“Must needes disorder growe, from bad, to worse?
“Can neuer mischiefe end as it begunne,
“But being once out, must farther out, of force?
“Thinke you, that any meanes, vnder the Sunne,
“Can assecure so indirect a course?
“Or any broken cunning build so strong,
“As can hold out the hand of vengeance long?
110
25
Stopt, there, was his too vehement speech with speed,And he sent close to warde, from where he stood;
His zeale vntimely, deem'd too much t'exceed
The measure of his wit, and did no good.
They resolute, for all this, do proceed
Vnto that iudgement could not be withstood:
The King had all he crav'd, or could compell:
And all was done; let others iudge, how well.
26
Now Muse relate a wofull accident,And tell the blood-shed of these mightie Peeres,
Who (lately reconcil'd) rest discontent,
Griev'd with disgrace, remayning in their feares:
How-euer seeming outwardly content;
Yet th'inward touch, that wounded honor beares,
Rests closely rankling, and can finde no ease,
Till death of one side cure this great disease.
27
Meanes how to feele, and learne each others hart,By th'Abbots skill of Westminster is found:
Who, secretly disliking Henries part,
Inuites these Lords, and those hee meant to sound;
Feasts them with cost, and drawes them on with art;
And darke, and doubtfull questions doth propound:
Then playner speakes; and yet vncertaine speakes:
Then wishes well; then off abruptly breakes.
111
28
My Lords, saith he, I feare we shall not findeThis long-desired King, such as was thought:
But yet, he may do well: God turne his minde:
Tis yet new dayes: but, Ill bodes new and nought:
Some yet speed well: though all men of my kinde
Haue cause to doubt; his speech is not forgot,
That Princes had too little, we too much.
God giue him grace: but 'tis ill trusting such.
29
This open-close, apparent-darke discourseDrew-on much speech: and euerie man replies:
And euery man addes heate: and words inforce
And vrge out wordes. For, when one man espies
Anothers minde like his, then ill breedes worse;
And out breaks all in th'end what closest lies.
For, when men well haue fed, th'blood being warme,
Then are they most improuident of harme.
30
Bewray they did their inward boyling spight;Each stirring other to reuenge their cause.
One sayes he neuer should indure the sight
Of that forsworne, that wrongs both Land and lawes;
Another vowes the same; of his minde, right.
A third t'a point more neere the matter drawes;
Sweares, if they would, he would attempt the thing,
To chace th'vsurper, and replace their King.
112
31
Thus one by one, kindling each others fire,Till all inflam'd, they all in one agree:
All resolute to prosecute their ire,
Seeking their owne, and Countries cause to free;
And haue his first, that their blood did conspire.
For, no way else, they sayd, but this, could be
Their wrong-detained honor to redeeme:
Which, true-bred blood should, more then life, esteeme.
32
And let not this our new-made faithless Lord,Sayth Surry, thinke, that we are lest so bare
(Though bare inough) but we wil finde a sword
To kill him with, when he shal not beware.
For, he that is with life and will instor'd,
Hath, for reuenge, inough, and needes not care:
For, time brings meanes to furnish him withall:
Let him but wayte occasions as they fall.
33
Then, of the manner how t'effect the thing,Consulted was: and in the ende agreed,
That at a Maske, and common Reuelling,
Which was ordain'd, they should performe the deed;
For, that would be least doubted of the King,
And fittest for their safetie to proceed:
The night, their number, and the soddaine act,
Would dash all order, and protect their fact.
113
34
Besides, they might vnder the faire pretenceOf Tilts and Turnements, which they intend,
Prouide them horse, and armour for defence,
And all things else conuenient for their end:
Besides, they might hold sure intelligence
Among themselues, without suspect t'offend:
The King would thinke, they sought but grace in Court,
With all their great preparing in this sort.
35
A solemne oath religiously they take,By intermutuall vowes protesting there,
This neuer to reueale; nor to forsake
So good a Cause, for danger, hope, or feare:
The Sacrament, the pledge of faith, they take:
And euerie man vpon his sword doth sweare,
By Knighthood, honor, or what else should binde;
To assecure, the more, each others minde.
36
And when all this was done, and thought well done,And euerie one assures him good successe,
And easie seemes the thing to euerie one
That nought could crosse their plot, or them suppresse:
Yet one among the rest (whose minde not wonne
With th'ouer-weening thought of hot excesse,
Nor headlong carryed with the streame of will,
Nor by his owne election led to ill)
114
37
Iudicious Blunt (whose learning, valor, wit,Had taught true knowledge in the course of things;
Knew dangers as they were, and th'humerous fit
Of ware-lesse discontent, what end it brings)
Counsels their heat, with calme graue words, and fit
(Words well fore-thought, that from experience springs)
And warnes a warier cariage in the thing;
Least blind presumption worke their ruining.
38
“My Lords, sayth he, I knowe your wisedomes such,“As that of mine aduice you haue no need:
“I knowe, you knowe how much the thing doth touch
“The maine of all your states, your blood, your seed:
“Yet, since the same concernes my life, as much
“As his whose hand is chiefest in this deed,
“And that my foote must go as farre, as his;
“I thinke, my tongue may speake what needfull is.
39
“The thing we enterprize, I knowe, doth beare“Great possibilitie of good effect;
“For-that so many men of might there are
“That venture here this action to direct:
“Which meaner wightes, of trust and credite bare,
“Not so respected, could not looke t'effect.
“For none, without great hopes, will follow such
“Whose powre, and honor doth not promise much.
115
40
“Besides, this new, and doubtfull gouernment,“The wauering faith of people vaine, and light;
“The secret hopes of many discontent;
“The naturall affection to the right;
“Our lawfull Sov'raignes life, in prison pent,
“Whom men begin to pittie now, not spight;
“Our well layd plot, and all, I must confesse,
“With our iust cause, doth promise good successe.
41
“But this is yet the outward fayrest side“Of our desseigne: within, rests more of feare,
“More dread of sad euent yet vndescri'd,
“Then (my most worthy Lords) I would there were:
“But yet, I speake not this as to diuide
“Your thoughts from th'act, or to dismay your cheere;
“Onely to adde, vnto your forward will,
“A moderate feare, to cast the worst of ill.
42
“Danger before, and in, and after th'act,“You needes must graunt, is great, and to be waigh'd.
“Before; least, while we do the deede protract,
“It be by any of our selues bewraid:
“For, many being priuie to the fact,
“How hard it is to keepe it vnbetraid?
“When the betrayer shal haue life and grace,
“And rid himselfe of danger and disgrace.
116
43
“For, though some few continue resolute;“Yet many shrink, which at the first would dare,
“And be the formost men to execute,
“If th'act, and motion at one instant were:
“But, intermission suffers men dispute
“What dangers are, and cast with farther care:
“Cold doubt cauils with honor, scorneth fame:
“And in the end, feare waighes downe faith, with shame.
44
“Then in the act, what perils shall we finde,“If either place, or time, or other course,
“Cause vs to alter th'order now assign'd?
“Or that, then we expect, things happen worse?
“If either error, or a fainting minde,
“An indiscreet amazement, or remorse,
“In any at that instant should be found;
“How much it might the act, and all confound?
45
“After the deede, the dangers are no lesse;“Lest that, our forwardnes not seconded
“By our owne followers, and accomplices
“(Being kept backe, or slowe, or hindered)
“The hastie multitude rush-on, t'oppresse
“Confused weakenes, there vnsuccored;
“Or rayse another head, of that same race,
“T'auenge his death, and prosecute the case.
117
46
“All this (my Lords) must be considered“(The best and worst of that which may succeede)
“That valour mixt with feare, boldnesse with dread,
“May march more circumspect, with better heed.
“And, to preuent these mischiefs mentioned,
“Is, by our faith, our secrecie, and speed.
“For, euen already is the worke begun,
“And we rest all vndone, till all be done.
47
“And though I could haue wisht another course,“In open fielde t'haue hazarded my blood;
“Yet some are heere, whose loue is of that force
“To draw my life, whom zeale hath not withstood:
“But, like you not of your desseigne the worse:
“If the successe be good, your course is good:
“And ending well, our honor then begins.
“No hand of strife is pure, but that which wins.
48
This sayd, a sad still silence held their mindes,Vpon the feareful proiect of their woe;
But that, not long, ere forward Furie findes:
Incouraging perswasions on to goe.
We must (sayd they) we wil, our honour bindes,
Our safety bids, our fayth must haue it so:
We know the worst can come, 'tis thought vpon:
We cannot shift; being in, we must goe on.
118
49
And on in deed they went; but (ô!) not farre:A fatal stop trauerst their headlong course;
Their drift comes knowne, and they discouered are:
For, some of many will be false, of force.
Aumarle became the man, that did all marre,
Whether through indiscretion, chance, or worse:
He makes his peace, with offring others blood;
And shewes the King, how all the matter stood.
50
Then lo dismayde, confusion all possest,Th'afflicted troupe, hearing their plot descride.
Then runnes amaz'd Distresse, with sad vnrest,
To this, to that, to flie, to stand, to hide:
Distracted Terror knew not what was best;
On what determination to abide.
At last, Despaire would yet stand to the Sword,
To trie what friendes would doe, or fate affoord.
51
Then this, then that mans ayde, they craue, implore;Poste here for helpe, seeke there their followers;
Coniure their friendes they had, labour for more,
Sollicite all reputed fauourers,
Who Richards cause seem'd to affect before:
And, in his name, write, pray, sende messengers;
To try what faith was left, if by this art
Any would step to take Afflictions part.
119
52
And some were found; and some againe draw backe:Vncertaine power could not it selfe retaine:
Intreate they may, authoritie they lacke:
And here, and there they march (but, all in vaine)
With desp'rate course; like those that see their wracke
Euen on the Rockes of death, and yet they straine
That death may not them idly finde t'attend
Their certaine last, but worke to meet their end.
53
And long they stand not, ere the chiefe, surpriz'd,Conclude with their deare blood their tragedie:
And all the rest, disperst run—some disguis'd—
To vnknowne coastes; some to the shores do flye;
Some to the woods, or whither feare aduis'd:
But running from, all to destruction hie.
The breach once made vpon a battered state,
Downe goes Distresse; no shelter shroudes their fate.
54
And now what horror in their soules doth growe!What sorrowes, with their friendes, and neere allies!
What mourning in their ruin'd houses now!
How many childrens plaints, and mothers cryes!
How many wofull Widowes left to bow
To sad disgrace! what perisht families!
What heires of hie rich hopes, their thoughts must frame
To base-downe-looking pouertie and shame!
120
55
This slaughter and calamitie fore-goesThy eminent destruction, wofull King.
This is the bloody Comet of thy woes,
That doth fore-tell thy present ruyning.
Here was thy ende decreed, when these men rose:
And euen with theirs, this act thy death did bring;
Or hastened, at the least, vpon this ground:
Yet, if not this, another had beene found.
56
Kings (Lords of times and of occasions) mayTake their aduantage, when, and how they list:
For, now the Realme, he thought in this dismay,
T'auoyd like mischiefes, neither would resist,
Nor feele the wound at all; since, by this way,
All future disturbations would desist;
The roote cut off, from whence these tumults rose,
He should haue rest, the Common-wealth repose.
57
He knew this time: and yet he would not seemeToo quicke to wrath, as if affecting blood;
But yet complaines so farre, that men might deeme
He would 'twere done, and that he thought it good:
121
As ridde him of these feares wherein he stood:
And there-with eyes a Knight, that then was by;
Who soone could learne his lesson, by his eye.
58
The man, he knew, was one that willinglyFor one good looke would hazard soule and all;
An instrument for any villanie,
That needed no commission more at all:
A great ease to the King, that should, hereby,
Not neede in this a course of iustice call,
Nor seeme to wil the act: for, though what's wrought
Were his owne deed, he grieues should so be thought.
59
“So foule a thing (ô!) thou Iniustice art,“That tort'rest both the dooer and distrest.
“For, when a man hath done a wicked part,
“How doth he striue t'excuse, to make the best,
“To shift the fault, t'vnburthen his charg'd hart,
“And glad to finde the least surmise of rest!
“And if he could make his, seeme others sin;
“What great repose, what ease he findes therein!
60
This Knight; but yet, why should I call him Knight,To giue impietie this reuerent stile?
Title of honour, worth, and vertues right,
Should not be giuen to a wretch so vile:
122
It is because I will not here defile
My vnstaind verse, with his opprobrious name,
And grace him so, to place him in the same.
61
This caitife goes, and with him takes eight moreAs desperate as himselfe; impiously bold
(Such villaines, as he knew would not abhorre
To execute what wicked act he would)
And hastes him downe to Pomfret; where, before,
The restless King, conuaide, was laid in hold:
There would he do the deed, he thought should bring
To him great grace and fauour, with his King.
62
Whether the soule receiues intelligence,By her neere Genius, of the bodies end
And so impartes a sadnesse to the sense
Fore-going ruine, whereto it doth tend:
Or whether Nature else hath conference
With profound sleepe, and so doth warning send
By prophetizing dreames, what hurt is neere,
And giues the heauie careful hart to feare:
63
How-euer, so it is, the now sad King(Tost here and there, his quiet to confound)
Feeles a straunge waight of sorrowes, gathering
Vpon his trembling hart, and sees no ground;
Feeles sodaine terror bring cold shiuering;
Listes not to eate, still muses, sleepes vnsound;
His senses droope, his steady eyes vnquicke;
And much he ayles; and yet he is not sicke.
123
64
The morning of that day, which was his last,After a wearie rest rysing to paine,
Out at a little grate his eyes he cast
Vpon those bordering hils, and open Plaine,
And viewes the towne, and sees how people past:
Where others libertie, makes him complaine
The more his owne, and grieues his soule the more;
Conferring captiue-Crownes, with freedome poore.
65
“O happie man, sayth hee, that lo I see“Grazing his cattle in those pleasant fieldes!
“If he but knew his good (how blessed hee,
“That feeles not what affliction Greatnes yeeldes!)
“Other then what hee is, he would not bee,
“Nor change his state with him that Scepters wieldes:
“Thine, thine is that true life; That is to liue,
“To rest secure, and not rise vp to grieue.
66
“Thou sitst, at home, safe, by thy quiet fire,“And hear'st of others harmes; but feelest none:
“And there thou telst of Kings, and who aspire,
“Who fall, who rise, who triumphs, who do mone:
“Perhaps thou talkst of mee, and dost inquire
“Of my restraint, why here I liue alone,
“And pittiest this my miserable fall:
“For, pittie must haue part; enuie, not all.
124
67
“Thrice happy you that looke, as from the shore,“And haue no venture in the wracke you see;
“No int'rest, no occasion to deplore
“Other mens trauailes, while your selues sit free.
“How much doth your sweet rest make vs the more
“To see our miserie, and what we bee!
“Whose blinded Greatnes, euer in turmoyle,
“Still seeking happy life, makes life a toyle.
125
68
“Great Dioclesian (and more great therefore“For yeelding-vp that whereto pride aspires)
“Reckning thy Gardens in Illiria more
“Then all the Empire, all what th'earth admires;
“Thou well didst teach, that he is neuer poore
“That little hath, but he that much desires;
“Finding more true delight in that small ground,
“Then, in possessing all the earth, was found.
69
“Are Kings that freedome giue, themselues not free“As meaner men, to take what they may giue?
“What, are they of so fatall a degree,
“That they cannot descend from that, and liue?
“Vnlesse they still be Kings can they not bee,
“Nor may they their authority suruiue?
“Will not my yeelded Crowne redeeme my breath?
“Still am I fear'd? is there no way, but death?
126
70
Scarce this word, Death, from Sorrow did proceed,When in rusht one, and tels him, such a knight
Is new arriv'd, and comes from Court in speed.
What newes sayd he, with him, that traytrous wight?
What, more remouing yet? alas! what need?
Are we not farre ynough sent out of sight?
Or is this place, here, not sufficient strong
To guard vs in? or must we haue more wrong?
71
By this, the bloody troope were at the dore;When-as a sodaine and a strange dismay
Inforc't them straine, who should go in before:
One offers, and in offring makes a stay:
An other forward sets, and doth no more:
A third the like, and none durst make the way:
So much the horror of so vile a deed,
In vilest mindes, deterres them to proceed.
72
At length, as to some great aduentrous fight,This Brauo cheeres these dastards, all hee can;
And valiantly their courage doth incite,
And all against one weake vnarmed man:
127
Wherein, so much renowne his valor wan.
But see, how men that verie Presence feare,
Which once, they knew, Authority did beare.
73
Then, on thrusts one, and he would formost beTo shead anothers blood; but lost his owne:
For, entring in, as soone as he did see
The face of Maiestie, to him well knowne;
Like Marius Souldier at Minternum, hee
Stood still amaz'd, his courage ouer-throwne.
The King, seeing this, starting frō where he sate,
Out from his trembling hand his weapon gate.
74
Thus, euen his foes, who came to bring him death,Bring him a weapon, that before had none;
That yet he might not idly lose his breath,
But die reueng'd, in action, not alone.
And this good chaunce, that thus much fauoureth,
He slackes not: for, he presently speedes one:
And, Lion-like, vpon the rest he flyes:
And here falles one, and there another lies.
75
And vp and down he trauerses his ground;Now wardes a felling blowe, now strikes againe,
Then nimbly shiftes a thrust, then lends a wound,
Now backe he giues, then rushes-on amaine.
128
These shamefull beastes, that foure of them lie slaine:
And all had perisht happily and well,
But for one act, that (ô!) I grieue to tell.
76
This coward Knight, seeing with shame and feareHis men thus slaine, and doubting his owne end,
Leapes vp into a chaire that (lo) was there,
The-whiles the King did all his courage bend
Against those foure, which now before him were,
Doubting not who behind him doth attend;
And plyes his hands vndaunted, vnaffeard,
And with good heart, and life for life he stird.
77
And whiles he this, and that, and each mans bloweDoth eye, defend, and shift, being layd-to sore,
Backward he beares for more aduantage now,
Thinking the wall would safegard him the more;
When, lo, with impious hand, ô wicked thou,
That shamefull durst not come to strike before,
Behind him gav'st that lamentable wound,
Which layd that wretched Prince flat on the ground.
78
Now, proditorious wretch, what hast thou done,To make this barbarous base assassinate
Vpon the person of a Prince, and one
Fore-spent with sorrow, and all desolate?
129
By being the instrument to perpetrate
So foule a deed? where is thy grace in Corte,
For such a seruice, acted in this sort?
79
First, he for whom thou dost this villanie(Though pleas'd therewith) will not auouch thy fact,
But let the weight of thine owne infamie
Fall on thee, vnsupported, and vnbackt:
Then, all men else will loath thy treacherie,
And thou thy selfe abhorre thy proper act:
“So th'Wolfe, in hope the Lyons grace to win
“Betraying other beastes, lost his owne skinne.
130
80
But now, as this sweet Prince distended lay,And him nor Life, nor Death, their owne could call,
(For, Life, remouing, rid not all away;
And Death, though entring, had not seis'd on all)
That short-tym'd motion had a little stay
(The mouer ceasing) though it were but small:
(As th'Organ-sound, a time, suruiues the stop,
Before it doth the dying note giue vp).
81
When, lo, there streames a spring of bloud so fast,From those deepe woundes, as all imbru'd the face
Of that accursed caytiue, as he past
(After the deed effected) through the place:
And therewithall those dying eyes did cast
Such an vpbrayding looke on his disgrace
(Seeming to checke so cowardly a part)
As left th'impression euen in his hart.
131
82
And thus one King, most neere in bloud ally'd,Is made th'oblation for the others peace.
Which peace yet was not hereby ratifi'd
So, as it could all future feares release.
For, though the other did forthwith prouide
To haue the rumour run of his decease,
By drawing the corps to London, where it was
Layd (three dayes to be seene) with open face:
83
Yet, so great was this execrable deed,As men would scarce therein belieue their eyes;
Much lesse their eares: and many sought to feed
The easie creditours of nouelties,
By voycing him aliue; how hee was freed
By strange escape out of his miseries:
And many did conspire now to relieue
Him dead, who had forsaken him aliue.
132
84
And many suffred for his Cause, when nowHe had none: many wisht for him againe,
When they perceiv'd th'exchange did not allow
Their hopes so much as they did looke to gaine,
By traffiquing of kings; and all saw how
Their full exspectances were in the wane.
They had a King was more then him before;
But yet a king, where they were nought the more.
85
And sure, this murthered Prince, though weake he was,He was not ill; nor yet so weake, but that
He shew'd much Martiall valour in his place,
Aduentring oft his person for the State:
And might amongst our better Princes paste;
Had not the flatterie, rapine, and debate
Of factious Lords and greedie Officers
Disgrac't his actions, and abus'd his yeares.
86
Nor is it so much Princes weakenesses,As the corruption of their Ministers,
Wherby the Common-wealth receiues distress.
For, they, attending their particulars,
Make imperfections their aduantages
To be themselues both Kings and Councellors.
And, sure, this Common-wealth can neuer take
Hurt by weake kings, but such as we doo make.
133
87
Besides, he was (which people much respectIn Princes, and which pleases vulgarly)
Of goodly personage, and of sweete aspect,
Of milde accesse, and liberalitie;
And feastes, and shewes, and triumphs did affect,
As the delights of youth and iollitie:
But, here, the great profusion and expence
Of his reuenues, bred him much offence:
88
And gaue aduantage vnto enmitie,This grieuous accusation to prefer;
“That he consum'd the common Treasurie:
“Whereof he being the simple vsager
“But for the State (not in proprietie)
“Did alien at his pleasure, and transfer
“The same t'his minions, and to whome hee list;
“By which, the Common-wealth was to subsist.
89
“Whereby, sayd they, the poore concussed State“Shall euer be exacted for supplyes.
Which accusation was th'occasion, that
His successour by order nullifies
134
And reassume his liberalities:
And yet, for all these wastes, these gifts and feasts,
He was not found a Bankrupt in his chests.
90
But they, who tooke to Syndicque in this sorteThe Actions of a Monarch, knew those things
Wherein the accoumpts were likely to fall short
Betweene the State of Kingdomes, and their Kings:
Which president, of pestilent import
(Had not the heauens blest thy indeuourings)
Against thee Henry, had beene likewise brought,
Th'example made of thy example wrought.
91
For, though this bountie, and this liberalness,A glorious vertue be; it better fits
Great men, then kings: who, giuing in excesse,
Giue not their owne, but others benefits:
Which calles-vp manies hopes, but pleasures lesse;
Destroying far more loue, then it begets.
For, Iustice is their Virtue: that alone
Makes them sit sure, and glorifies the Throne.
The ende of the third Booke.
135
THE FOVRTH BOOKE.
THE ARGVMENT.
King Henrie, his excuses publishesFor Richards death; and truce doth intertaine
With France. The Scots, aggrieu'd for wrongs, address
Themselues to warre; and are appeas'd againe.
The Welsh rebel. The Percies practises
(To parte the State) are stopt, in battell slaine.
Continuall troubles still afflict this King;
Till Death an end doth to his trauailes bring.
1
The bounds once ouer-gone, that hold men in,They neuer stay; but on, from bad to worse.
“Wrongs do not leaue off there, where they begin;
“But, still beget new mischiefes in their course.
Now, Henrie, thou hast added to thy sinne
Of vsurpation, and intruding force,
136
T'appeare more then it did, and noted more.
2
For, now thou art inforc't t'apologiseWith forraine States, for two enormious things,
Wherein, thou dost appeare to scandalise
The publike Right, and common Cause of Kings:
Which, though (with all the skill thou canst deuise)
Thou ouerlay'st with fayrest colourings;
Yet th'vnder-worke, transparent, shewes too plaine.
“Where open acts accuse, th'excuse is vaine.
3
And these defences, are but complements,To dallie with confining Potentates;
Who, busied in their proper gouernments,
Do seldome tend th'affaires of other States:
Their wisedome, which to present powre consents,
Liue-dogges before dead Lyons, estimates:
“And no man more respects these publike wrongs,
“Then so much as t'his priuate state belongs.
4
Yet, most it seem'd the French King to import;As sharer in his daughters iniurie:
“Though bloud, in Princes, links not in such sort,
“As that it is of any powre to tye,
Where their estates may seeme t'aduenture hurt;
Or where there is not a necessitie,
That doth combine them with a stronger chaine,
Then all these great Alliances containe.
137
5
For, though this King might haue resentiment,And will, t'auenge him of this iniurie:
Yet, at that time, his State being turbulent,
Factious, and full of partialitie,
And oftentimes he himselfe impotent,
By meanes of his Phreneticque maladie;
It was not likely, any good could rise
By vndertaking such an enterprise.
6
And therefore both sides, vpon entercourse(As fitted best their present termes) agreed,
The former truce continue should in force,
According as it had beene fore-decreed
Vpon the match with Richard; and a course
For Isabel (with all conuenient speed)
Prouided, with an honorable Traine
Suting her state, to be sent home againe.
7
Whome willingly they would haue still retain'd,And matcht vnto the Prince: but shee (though yong;
Yet sensible of that which appertain'd
To honor, and renowne) scornd any tongue
That offred such a motion; and disdaynd
To haue it thought, she would but heare that wrong
138
To haue his murtherers race inioy his bed.
8
Besides; the French (doubting the Gouernment,Thus gotten, would be subiect still to strife)
Not willing were to vrge her to consent
T'accept a troublous, and vncertaine life:
And, being returnd, she grew in th'end content
To be (at home) a Duke of Orleance wife;
Scap't from such stormes of powre, holding it best
To be belowe her selfe, to be at rest.
9
And so hath Henrie assecur'd that side,And therewithall his State of Gasconie:
Which, on th'intelligence was notifi'd
Of Richards death, were wrought to mutinie;
And hardly came to be repacifi'd,
And kept to hold in their fidelitie:
So much, to him were they affectioned,
For hauing beene amongst them borne and bred.
10
These toyles abrode, these tumults with his owne(As if the frame of all disioynted were,
With this disordred shifting of the Crowne)
Fell, in the reuolution of one yeare.
Beside; the Scotte (in discontentment growne,
For the detayning, and supporting here,
139
With fire and sword, proclaymes an open war;
11
Taking their time, in these disturbancesAnd newnesse of a wauering Gouernment,
T'auenge them of their former grieuances,
And by our spoyles their fortunes to augment.
Against whose forces, Henry furnishes
A powrefull Army, and in person went;
But warres with a retyring enemy,
With much more trauaile then with victorie.
12
And, being (by sharp, deformed Winters force)Caus'd to retire, he findes new stormes at home,
From other Coasts arysing; that prov'd worse
Then those, which now hee was returned from.
In VVales, a Cause of Law, by violent course,
Was (from a variance) now a warre become;
And Owen Glendour, who with Gray of late
Contests for priuate landes, now seekes a State.
13
Whom to represse, he early in the Spring,With all prouisions fit, doth forward set;
When straight his enemies (not purposing
To hazard battaile) to the mountaines get.
140
Without performing any great defeat,
He onely their prouisions wastes, and burnes,
And with some prey of Cattell home returnes.
14
Wherewith, the Rebell rather was the moreIncourag'd, then addaunted; and begun
T'aduenture farther then he did before;
Seeing such a Monarch had so little done,
Being com'n in person, with so great a powre,
And sodainely againe retyr'd and gone,
“For, in this case, they helpe, who hurt so small;
“And he hath nothing done, that doth not all.
15
But now (behold) other new heads appeare,New Hidra's of rebellion, that procure
More worke to doo, and giue more cause of feare;
And shew'd, that nothing in his State stood sure.
And these, euen of his chiefest followers were,
Of whome he might presume him most secure;
Who had th'especiall ingins beene, to reare
His fortunes vp, vnto the State they were.
141
16
The Percies were the men; men of great might,Strong in alliance, and in courage strong:
Who now conspire; vnder pretence to right
Such wrongs, as to the Common wealth belong:
Vrg'd, either through their conscience, or despight,
Or finding now the part they tooke was wrong:
Or else Ambition hereto did them call,
Or others enuy'd grace; or, rather, all.
17
And such they were, who might presume t'haue doneMuch for the king, and honour of the State;
Hauing the chiefest actions vnder-gone,
Both forraine and domesticall of late:
Beside that famous day of Homeldon;
Where Hotspur gaue that wonderfull defeat
Vnto the Scottes, as shooke that kingdome more
Then many Monarchs armies had before.
18
Which might perhaps aduance their mindes, so farreAboue the leuell of subiection, as
T'assume to them the glory of that war;
Where all things, by their powre, were brought to passe:
142
And their command so spacious as it was,
Might (in their State) forget, how all these things
That subiects doo effect, must be their Kings.
19
And so fell after into discontent,For that the king requir'd to haue, as his,
Those Lords were taken prisoners; whome they ment
To hold still as their proper purchases:
Then, that he would not, at their sute, consent
To worke their Cosin Mortimers release,
Out of the Rebell Owen Glendour's hands;
Who held him prisoner, in disgracefull bands.
20
But be, what will, the cause; strong was their plot.Their parties great, meanes good, the season fit,
Their practice close, their faith suspected not,
Their states far off, and they of wary wit:
Who, with large promises, so wooe the Scot
To aide their Cause, as he consents to it;
And glad was to disturne that furious streame
Of warre, on vs, that else had swallowed them.
21
Then ioyne they with the Welsh; who, now wel train'd,In Armes and action dayly grew more great.
143
And done much mischiefe on the English State:
Beside, his prisoner Mortimer he gain'd
From being a foe, to b'his confederate;
A man the King much fear'd: and well he might;
Least he should looke whether his Crowne stood right.
22
For, Richard (for the quiet of the State)Before he tooke those Irish warres in hand,
About Succession doth deliberate:
And, finding how the certaine Right did stand,
With full consent this man did ordinate
The heyre apparent to the Crowne and Land;
Whose competencie was of tender touch:
Although his might was small, his right was much.
23
With these, the Percies them confederat,And (as three heads) conioyne in one intent:
And (instituting a Triumuirate)
Do part the Land, in triple gouernment;
144
The Percies should rule all the North, from Trent;
And Glendour, VVales; the Earle of March should be
Lord of the South, from Trent: and so they 'gree.
24
Then, those faire bayts these Trouble-States still vse(Pretence of common good, the Kings ill Course)
Must be cast forth, the people to abuse,
And giue their Cause, and them, the better force.
The king, for tyranny, they doo accuse,
By whom the State was growne from bad to worse;
A periur'd man, who held all faith in scorne:
Whose trusted Oathes had others made forsworne.
25
And, therewithal, the execrable act,On their late murthered King, they aggrauate:
How he imploy'd the dooers of the fact,
Whom afterwards hee did remunerate:
And dayly such taxations did exact,
As were against the Order of the State;
145
About his priuate vses to dispose:
26
And how he was inuironed with suchAs had possest him; and in slanderous sort
Accus'd them so, as they durst not approche
To cleare themselues of such vniust report:
And, thereupon, they flatly disauouch
To yeld him more obedience, or support:
And, as t'a periurd Duke of Lancaster,
Their Cartell of Defiance they preferre;
27
Protesting, these obiections to make good,With sword in hand, and to confirme and seale
Their vndertaking, with their dearest bloud,
As Procurators for the Common-weale:
And that vpon their Consciences it stood,
And did import their dutie and their zeale
Vnto the State, as Peeres, to see redrest
Those miseries wherewith it was opprest.
146
28
Great seem'd their Cause: and greatly, too, did addeThe peoples loue thereto, these crymes impos'd;
That many gathered to the troupes they had,
And many sent them aide though vndisclos'd:
So that, the King, with all maine speed, was glad
Both by his remonstrances well compos'd,
And with his sword (his best defence) prouide
To right himselfe, and to correct their pride:
29
Divulging, first, a fayre ApologieOf his cleere heart, touching the foule report
Of that assassinate: which vtterly
He doth abiure; protesting, in no sort
T'agree thereto, in will or priuitie:
And, how he had beene vsed to extort,
The State could witnesse best; by whose consent
Was granted what he had, in Parlement.
30
Which neuer was, but onely one supply,In foure yeares troublous and expensiue Raigne:
And that, vpon extreame necessitie,
The safetie of the publicke to maintaine:
And that the Percies best could testifie,
How most that mony issued was, againe;
147
To warre the Scot, and Borders to defend:
31
And that the rest was, to the same effectFor which it was obtaynd, in like sort spent.
And where-as they did slanderously obiect,
How that they durst not hazard to present
In person their defences, in respect
He was incenst by some maleuolent;
It was most false: for, he knew no defence
They were to make, till now they made offence.
32
And how far, he had been, from cruelty,Both VVales, and Scotland could him witnes beare;
Where, those effects of his great clemencie,
In sparing bloud, do to his cost appeare:
Much more, his subiects finde his lenitie;
Whose loue he seekes to haue, and not their feare.
“But thus, said he, they euer do pretend
“To haue receiv'd a wrong, who wrong intend.
33
Not to giue time vnto th'increasing rage,And gathering furie, foorth hee marcht with speed;
Least more delay, or giuing longer age
To th'euill growne, it might the cure exceed.
All his best men at Armes, and Leaders sage,
All he prepar'd hee could; and all did need.
For, to a mighty worke thou goest, ô King,
That equall spirits, and equall powres shal bring.
148
34
There shall young Hotspur, with a fury led,Ingrapple with thy sonne, as fierce as hee:
There Martiall VVorster, long experienced
In forraine armes, shall come t'incounter thee.
There Dowglas, to thy Stafford, shall make head:
There Vernon, for thy valiant Blunt, shall be.
There, shalt thou finde a doubtfull bloudy day;
Though sickenesse keep Northumberland away.
35
Who yet reserv'd (though, after, quit for this)Another tempest on thy head to rayse;
As if, still, wrong-reuenging Nemesis
Meant to afflict all thy continuing dayes:
And here this field hee happely doth misse,
For thy great good; and therefore well hee stayes.
What might his force haue done, being brought thereto,
When that already, gaue so much to doo?
36
The swift approche, and vnexpected speed,The King had made vpon this new-rays'd force,
In th'vnconfirmed troupes, much feare did breed,
Vntimely hind'ring their intended course:
149
Was hereby dasht; which made their Cause the worse:
Northumberland, with forces from the North,
Expected to be there, was not set forth.
37
And yet, vndaunted Hotspur, seeing the KingSo neere arriv'd; leauing the worke in hand,
With forward speed his forces marshalling,
Sets forth, his farther comming to withstand:
And, with a cheerefull voyce incouraging
His well experienc't and aduentrous Band,
Brings on his Army, eger vnto fight;
And plac't the same, before the King in sight.
38
“This day (saith he) my valiant trusty friendes,“What-euer it doth giue, shal glory giue;
“This day, with honor, frees our State, or endes
“Our misery with fame, that still shal liue:
“And doo but thinke, how well the same he spends,
“Who spends his blood, his Country to relieue.
“What? haue we hands, and shall we seruile bee?
“Why were swordes made? but, to preserue men free.
150
39
Besides, th'assured hope of victorie,Which we may euen promise on our side,
Against this weake constrayned company;
Whom force and feare, not will and loue doth guide:
Against a Prince, whose foul impiety
The heauens doo hate, the earth cannot abide:
Our number being no lesse, our courage more,
No doubt we haue it, if wee worke therefore.
40
This sayd, and thus resolv'd, euen bent to chargeVpon the King; who well their order view'd,
And wary noted all the course at large
Of their proceeding, and their multitude:
And deeming better, if he could discharge
The day with safetie, and some peace conclude,
Great proffers sendes of pardon and of grace
If they would yeeld, and quietnesse imbrace.
41
Which though his feares might driue him to propose,To time his businesse, for some other ende;
Yet, sure, hee could not meane t'haue peace with those,
Who did in that supreame degree offend:
151
Or breath of oathes, or vowes could apprehend:
So that in honor, th'offers, he doth make,
Were not for him to giue, nor them to take.
42
And yet this much his courses doo approue,He was not bloudy, in his Naturall;
And yeeld he did to more, then might behoue
His dignitie, to haue dispenst withall:
And, vnto VVorster, hee himselfe did moue
A reconcilement to be made of all:
But VVorster, know'ing it could not be secur'd,
His Nephews on-set (yet for all) procur'd.
43
Which seeing the King (with greater wrath incenst)Rage, against furie, doth with speede prepare.
And though, sayd he, I could haue wel dispenst
With this dayes bloud, which I haue sought to spare;
That greater glory might haue recompenst
The forward worth of these, that so much dare;
That we might good haue had by th'ouerthrowne,
And th'wounds we make, might not haue beene our owne:
44
Yet, since that other mens iniquitieCalles-on the sword of wrath, against my will;
And that themselues exact this crueltie,
And I constrayned am this bloud to spill;
152
True-harted subiects, against traytors ill:
And spare not them, who seeke to spoyle vs all
Whose foul confused end, soone see you shal.
45
Forth-with, began these fury-mouing sounds,The notes of wrath, the musicke brought from Hell,
The ratling Drums (which trumpets voyce confounds)
The cryes, th'incouragements, the shouting shrill;
That, all about, the beaten ayre rebounds
Confused thundring-murmurs horrible;
To robbe all sense, except the sense to fight.
Well hands may worke: the minde hath lost his sight.
46
O warre! begot in pride and luxurie,The child of malice, and reuengeful hate;
Thou impious good, and good impietie,
That art the foul refiner of a State;
153
Sharpe-easer of corruptions desperate;
Is there no meanes but that a sin-sicke Land
Must be let bloud with such a boysterous hand?
47
How well mightst thou haue, here beene spar'd this day,Had not wrong-counsaild Percy beene peruerse?
Whose forward hand, inur'd to woundes, makes way
Vpon the sharpest fronts of the most fierce:
Where now an equall furie thrusts to stay
And backe-repell that force, and his disperse:
Then these assaile, then those re-chase againe,
Till stayd with new-made hils of bodies slaine.
48
There, lo that new-appearing glorious starre,Wonder of Armes, the terror of the field,
Young Henrie, laboring where the stoutest are,
And euen the stoutest forceth backe to yeeld;
There is that hand boldned to bloud and warre,
That must the sword, in wondrous actions, wield:
Though better, he had learnd with others bloud;
A lesse expence to vs, to him more good.
154
49
Yet here had he not speedy succour lentTo his indangered father, neere opprest,
That day had seene the full accomplishment
Of all his trauailes, and his finall rest:
For, Mars-like Dowglas all his forces bent
T'incounter, and to grapple with the best;
As if disdayning any other thing
To doo, that day, but to subdue a King.
50
And three, with fierie courage, he assailes;Three, all as kings adornd in royall wise:
And each successiue after other quailes;
Still wondring, whence so many Kings should rise.
155
In these confounded, on a fourth hee flyes,
And him vnhorses too: whom had hee sped,
He then all Kings, in him, had vanquished.
51
For Henrie had diuided, as it were,The person of himselfe, into foure parts;
To be lesse knowne, & yet known euery where,
The more to animate his peoples harts:
Who, cheered by his presence, would not spare
To execute their best and worthyest parts.
By which, two special things effected are;
His safetie, and his subiects better care.
52
And neuer worthy Prince a day did quitWith greater hazard, and with more renowne,
Then thou didst, mightie Henry, in this fight;
Which onely made thee owner of thine owne:
Thou neuer proov'dst the Tenure of thy right
(How thou didst hold thy easie-gotten Crown)
Till now: and, now, thou shew'st thy selfe Chiefe Lord,
By that especial right of kings; the Sword.
53
And deare it cost, and much good bloud is shedTo purchase thee, a sauing victorie:
Great Stafford thy high Constable lyes dead,
With Shorly, Clifton, Gawsell, Caluerly,
156
Their noble valour and fidelitie:
And many more had left their dearest bloud
Behind, that day, had Hotspur longer stood.
54
But he, as Dowglas, with his furie ledde,Rushing into the thickest woods of speares,
And brakes of swordes, still laying at the Head
(The life of th'Army) whiles he nothing feares
Or spares his owne, comes all inuironed
With multitude of powre, that ouer-beares
His manly worth: who yeeldes not, in his fall;
But fighting dyes, and dying kils withal.
55
What Arke, what trophey, what magnificenceOf glory, Hot-spurre, hadst thou purchas't here;
Could but thy Cause, as fayre as thy pretence,
Be made vnto thy Country to appeare!
157
(Not thy ambition) made thee sell so deare
Thy selfe this day; shee must haue here made good
An euerlasting Statüe for thy bloud.
56
Which thus misspent, thy Army presently,(As if they could not stand, when thou wert downe)
Disperst in rout, betooke them all to flie:
And Dowglas, faint with wounds, & ouer-throwne,
Was taken; who yet wonne the enemie
Which tooke him (by his noble valour showne,
In that dayes mighty worke) and was preserv'd
With all the grace, and honor he deserv'd.
57
VVorc'ster (who had escap't vnhappilyHis death in battel) on a Scaffold dyes,
The next after, in the company
Of other chiefest of that enterprise.
And, so, the tempest of this mutinie
Became allay'd; and those great ieoperdies
Blowne-ouer in this sort, the Coasts well cleer'd,
But for one threatning cloud, that yet appear'd.
58
Northumberland (recouered) still out stands,The principall of this great family
And faction; hauing Berwike in his hands,
With other holdes; strong by confed'racie
With Scotland; mighty by his owne command:
And, likely now, his vtmost powre to trie,
158
And ioyne with Wales; which yet vndanted stood.
59
Which mov'd the king (who had too much indur'dIn this dayes worke, to hazard new againe)
By all the aptest meanes could be procur'd
To lay to draw him in, by any traine.
And write he did, and vow'd, and him assur'd
(Vpon his princely word) to intertaine
With former grace, if hee would but submit,
And come to yeeld th'obedience that was fit.
60
The Earle, be'ing now by this defeat dismay'd(And fearing his confederates would fayle
With Fortune, and betray, rather then ayde,
Those who are downe; being for their owne auayle)
Relying on his Sov'raignes oath obay'd;
Which, with his tender griefs, did much preuaile:
And in hee came, and had no detryment,
But (for a shew) some short imprisonment.
61
The Parlement, that afterward insu'd,Restor'd him t'all his dignities and landes.
And now none, but the Welsh, seem'd to seclude
The king, from hauing wholly in his hands
All peace within: and them he had pursu'd
Whiles this braue army, with these ready bands,
Were yet on foot; could he but haue got pay
To hold them, and his charge of war defray.
159
62
But, that hee could not gaine, though all the wayesThat might be wrought, he labours to procure
Meanes to effect the same. But, those delayes,
And long protraction, which he must indure
By way of Parlement, so much betrayes
The opportunitie, that might secure
His vndertaking; as, the occasion, lost,
Draue both the State, and him, to greater cost.
63
For, now the Rebell, thus forborne, growes strongBoth in his reputation and successe:
For, hauing with his powre held out so long,
Many aduenture (with more forwardnesse)
To yeeld him ayd, and to support his wrong:
And forraine Princes (in his businesse
Whom hee sollicites) now wil lend their hand
To hould him vp; seeing, himselfe can stand.
64
And thus he prospers; whiles, the King here spentMuch time to leuie treasure, to maintaine
His charge abrode: which, with that discontent,
That murmure, those denyals, hee doth gaine,
As that hee findes it euen as turbulent
To warre for it, as with it, all his Raigne;
Though hee had those inforcements of expence,
Both for offence, retaynements, and defence.
160
65
For, here beside these troubles in the Land,His large Dominions, held abrode, require
A plentiful and a prepared hand
To guard them; where so mightie men aspire
T'assaile, distract and trouble his Command,
With hopes, with promises, with sword and fire:
And then as deepe importes, his Coastes to cleere;
Which, by his neighbors, much infested were.
66
The Flemings, Britaines, with the French and all,Attempt incursions, and worke much despight:
Orleance, for Guien: and here the Conte, Saint Paul,
For Calais labours, and the Ile of Wight.
Wherein, though neither had successe at all;
Yet Cleremont ouercame, and wonne by fight
Important Holdes, in Gasconie the-while,
And did the English much distresse and spoyle.
67
All which require prouisions to withstand:And all are succord with great prouidence:
A Nauie, to secure the Seas, is mann'd,
And forces sent to Calais, for defence.
161
They are supply'd, with carefull diligence:
So that his subiects could not but well knowe,
That what they granted, he did sure bestowe.
68
Nor did hee spare himselfe, nor his; but (bentAll-wholly vnto actiue Worthynesse)
The Prince of VVales vnto his Prouince sent;
Where, hee was sure, hee should not take his ease:
His second sonne is, with the Earle of Kent,
Imployd (as Gouernour) to keepe the Seas.
A third (though very yong) likewise sent forth
With VVestmerland, attends vnto the North.
69
Thus were they bred, who after were to beeMen amongst men: here, with these graue Adioynts
(These learned Maisters) they were taught to see
Themselues, to read the world, and keep their points.
Thus were they entred in the first degree
(And Accedence) of action; which acquaints
Them, with the Rules of Worth and Nobleness:
Which, in true Concord, they learn'd well t'expresse.
70
And whiles h'attends the State thus carefully,The Earle of Marches children are conuay'd
Out of the Towre of VVindsor, secretly;
Being prisoners there, not for their merit lay'd,
But, for their Bloud; and to the ende-whereby
This Chayne of Nature might be interlay'd
162
To hold him backe, to saue these innocents.
71
For which attempt (though it were frustratedBy their recouerie, who were got againe)
Aumarle (now Duke of Yorke) is chalenged,
By his owne sister, to haue layd that trayne;
Who (late) her Lord, with others ruined,
In secretly betraying them, t'obtaine
His grace and peace: which yet contents him not.
For, Who hath grace and peace by treason got?
72
So much did loue, t'her executed Lord,Predominate in this faire Ladies hart,
As in that region, it would not afford
Nature a place, to rest in any part
Of her affections; but that she abhord
Her proper blood, and left to doo the part
Of sisterhood, to doo that of a wife;
T'auenge a Husbands death, by Brothers life.
73
Vpon which accusation, presentlyThe Duke committed is, without much stirre
Or vulgar noyse; for that it tenderly
Did touch the secretst wounds of Lancaster:
When streight, another new conspiracie
(As if it were a certaine successor
163
Is by th'Archbishop Scroope with power brought forth:
74
And with faire zeale, and pietie, approv'dTo be for th'vniuersall benefit
And succour of the people, who (soone mov'd
By such perswaders, as are held vpright;
And for their zeale, and charitie belov'd)
Vse not t'examine if the Cause be right,
But leap into the toyle, and are vndon
By following them that they rely'd vpon.
75
Here, new aspersions, with new obloquies,Are layde on old deserts; and future ill
On present sufferings, bruted to aryse,
That farther grieuances ingender wil.
And then concussion, rapine, pilleries,
Their Catalogue of accusations fill.
Which to redresse, they doo presume to make
Religion to auow the part they take.
76
And euen as Canterburie did produceA Pardon to aduance him to the Crown;
The like now Yorke pronounces, to induce
His faction for the pulling of him down.:
164
Makes others ends to be as if their owne.
But, what wold these haue don against the crimes,
Oppressions, ryots, wastes of other times?
77
Since now they had a Monarch, and a man,Rays'd by his worth, and by their owne consent,
To gouerne them, and workes the best he can
T'aduance the Crowne, and giue the State cōtent;
Commits not all to others care, nor ran
An idle course, or on his Minions spent.
“But, thus the Horse at first bites at the Bit;
“That after is content to play with it.
78
Growne to a mighty powre (attending nowNorthumberland, with his prepared ayde)
The Bishop (by a parle) is, with a showe
Of combination, cunningly betrayde
By Westmerland: whose wit did ouerthrowe,
Without a sword, all these great feares, and stayd
The mightiest danger, that did euer yet
Thy Crowne and State, disturbed Henrie, threat.
79
For which, this reuerent Priest with Mowbray dyes:Who both, drawne on, with passion of despight,
To vndertake this fatall enterprise
(The one his brothers bloud-shed to requite;
165
Did wrong themselues, and did not others right.
For, who through th'eyes of their affections looke,
And not of iudgement, thus are ouer-tooke.
80
Whereof, when newes came to Northumberland(Who seldome other then of miserie
Seemes borne to heare; being euer behind hand
With Fortune, and his opportunitie)
To Scotland flies: where, giuen to vnderstand
Of some intrapment by conspiracie,
Gets into VVales: whence hee aduentured
T'attempt another day; and lost his head.
81
Whereby, once more those Parts are quieted,When-as the King (who neuer had his brow
Seene free from sweat, nor hart from trouble rid)
Was, with suspicion that his sonne grew now
Too popular, and forward, so much fed
By wicked instruments (who well knew how
To gaine by Princes feares) as he thereby
Fell, in his griefe, to great extreamitie.
166
82
Which when that vertuous Prince (who borne to beeThe module of a glorious Monarch) heard,
With humble protestations did so free
His fathers feares, and his owne honor cleer'd,
As that he plainely made the world to see
How base, Detraction and Deceipt appeard;
And that a hart, so nobly built, could not
Containe (within) a thought, that wore a blot.
83
Wherewith, the king betakes him to some peace;Yet to a peace, much like a sicke-mans sleep
(Whose vnrelenting paines do neuer cease;
But alwayes watch vpon his weakenes keepe)
That neuer any Sabaoth of release
Could free his trauailes, and afflictions deepe:
But still his cares held working, all his life,
Till Death concludes a finall end with strife.
84
Whose Herald, Sickenes, being imployd, before,With full commission to denounce his end;
And paine and griefe, inforcing more and more,
Besieg'd the Hold, that could not long defend;
Consuming so, al that resisting store
Of those prouisions Nature daign'd to lend,
167
To looke out thorow, and his frailty finde.
85
For, now (as if those vapors vanisht were,Which heat of boyling bloud, and health, did breed,
To clowd the iudgement) things do plaine appeare
In their owne colours, as they are indeede;
When-as th'illightned soule discouers cleere
Th'abusing shewes of Sense, and notes with heed
How poore a thing is pride; when all, as slaues,
“Differ but in their fetters, not their Graues.
86
And, lying on his last afflicted bed,Pale Death and Conscience both before him stand;
Th'one holding out a Booke, wherein he read
In bloudy lines the deedes of his owne hand:
The other shewes a glasse, which figured
An ougly forme of foule corrupted Sand;
Both bringing horror in the hiest degree,
With what he was, and what he soone should be.
168
87
Which seeing; all trembling, and confus'd with feare,He lay a while, amaz'd, with this affright:
At last, commands some, that attending were,
To fetch the Crowne, and set it in his sight.
On which, with fixed eye, and heauy cheere,
Casting a looke; O God, sayth he, what right
I had to thee, I now in griefe conceiue:
Thee, which with blood I held, with horror leaue.
88
And, herewithall, the soule (rapt with the thoughtOf mischiefes past) did so attentiue wey
These present terrors, whil'st (as if forgot)
The dull oppressed body senselesse lay;
That he, as breathlesse quite, quite dead is thought;
When, lo, the sonne comes in, and takes-away
This fatall Crowne from thence, and out he goes;
As if impatient, longer time to lose.
169
89
To whom (call'd backe for this presumptuous deed)The King (return'd from out his extasie)
“Began: O sonne, what needst thou make such speed
“To be before-hand with thy miserie?
“Thou shalt haue time ynough, if thou succeed,
“To feele the stormes that beat on Dignitie.
“And, if thou couldst but bee (be any thing)
“In libertie, then neuer be a King.
90
“Nay, Father; since your Fortune did attaine“So high a Stand, I meane not to descend,
170
“I were of spirit vnable to defend.
“Time will appease them well, who now complaine,
“And ratifie our int'rest in the end.
“What wrong hath not continuance quite out-worne?
“Yeares make that right, which neuer was so borne.
91
“If so; God worke his pleasure, fayd the King:“Yet thou must needs contend, with all thy might,
“Such euidence of vertuous deeds to bring,
“That well may proue our wrong to be our right:
“And let the goodnesse of the managing
“Raze out the blot of foul attaining, quite;
“That Discontent may all aduantage misse,
“To wish it otherwise, then now it is.
92
“And since my death my purpose doth preuent,“Touching this Holy warre I tooke in hand
“(An action wherewithall my soule had ment
“T'appease my God, and reconcile my Land)
“To thee is left to finish my intent;
“Who, to be safe, must neuer idly stand;
“But some great actions entertaine thou still,
“To holde their mindes, who else wil practise ill.
93
“Thou hast not that aduantage by my Raigne,“To ryot it, as they whom long descent
171
“Thou must contend to buy the worlds content.
“What their birth gaue them, thou hast yet to gaine
“By thine owne vertues, and good gouernment:
“So that vnlesse thy worth confirme the thing,
“Thou neuer shalt be father to a King.
94
“Nor art thou borne in those calme dayes, where Rest“Hath brought asleepe sluggish Securitie:
“But, in tumultuous times; where mindes, addrest
“To factions, are invr'd to mutinie;
“A mischiefe, not by force, to be supprest,
“Where rigor still begets more enmitie:
“Hatred must be beguil'd with some new course,
“Where States are stiffe, and Princes doubt their force.
95
This, and much more, Affliction would haue say'd,Out of th'experience of a troublous Raigne
(For which, his high desire had dearely pay'd
The int'rest of an euer-toyling paine)
But that this all-subduing Power here stai'd
His fault'ring tongue, and paine (r'inforc't againe)
Barr'd vp th'oppressed passages of breath,
To bring him quite vnder the state of Death.
172
96
In whose possession I must leaue him now;And now, into the Ocean of new toyles;
Into the stormie Maine (where tempestes growe
Of greater ruines, and of greater spoyles)
Set foorth my course (to hasten-on my vow)
Ov'r all the troublous Deepe of these turmoyles,
And, if I may but liue t'attaine the shore
Of my desired end, I wish no more.
The ende of the fourth Booke.
173
THE FIFT BOOKE.
THE ARGVMENT.
Henry the fift cuts off his enemie,The Earle of Cambridge, that conspir'd his death.
Henry the sixt (married vnluckily)
His, and his Countryes glorie ruineth.
Suffolke, that made the match, preferd too hie,
Going to exile, a Pirat murthereth.
VVhat meanes the Duke of Yorke obseru'd to gaine
The worlds good-will, seeking the Crowne t'attaine.
1
Close smothered lay the lowe depressed fire,Whose after-issuing flames confounded all,
The whil'st victorious Henry did conspire
The wracke of Fraunce, that at his feete did fall:
174
Of greater gaine, to greater deeds did call
His conquering troupes; that could no thoughts retaine,
Saue thoughts of glorie, all that actiue Raigne.
2
Whome here, me thinks (as if hee did appeare,Out of the clowdy darkenes of the night)
I do behold approche with Martiall cheere,
And with a dreadful (and yet louely) sight:
Whose eye giues courage, and whose brow hath feare;
Both representing terror, and delight;
And stayes my course, and off my purpose breakes,
And in vpbrayding words thus fiercely speakes:
3
“Vngrateful times, that impiously neglect“That worth, that neuer times againe shall shew;
“What? merites all our toyle no more respect?
“Or else standes Idlenesse asham'd to knowe
“Those wondrous Actions that do so obiect
“Blame to the wanton, sinne vnto the slowe?
175
“Lie thus vngrac't, vndeckt and almost lost?
4
“Why do you seeke for fained Palladines“(Out of the smoke of idle vanitie)
“Who may giue glory to the true designes,
“Of Bourchier, Talbot, Neuile, Willoughby?
“Why should not you striue to fill vp your lines,
“With wonders of your owne, with veritie?
“T'inflame their ofspring with the loue of good,
“And glorious true examples of their Blood.
5
“What euerlasting matter here is found,“Whence new immortall Iliads might proceed!
“That those, whose happie graces do abound
“In blessed accents, here may haue to feed
“Good thoughts; on no imaginarie ground
“Of hungry shadowes, which no profite breed;
“Whence, musicke-like, instant delight may growe;
“Yet, when men all do knowe, they nothing knowe.
6
“And why dost thou, in lamentable verse,“Nothing but blood-shed, treasons, sinne and shame,
“The worst of times, th'extreame of ills, rehearse;
“To rayse olde staynes, and to renew dead blame?
“As if the mindes of th'euill, and peruerse,
“Were not farre sooner trained from the same,
“By good example of faire vertuous acts,
“Then by the shew of foul vngodly facts.
176
7
“Would God, our times had had some sacred wight,“Whose words as happy as our swords had bin,
“To haue prepar'd for vs Tropheis aright,
“Of vndecaying frames t'haue rested in;
“Triumphant Arks, of perdurable might;
“O holy lines! that such aduantage win
“Vpon the Sieth of Time, in spight of yeares:
“How blessed they, who gaine what neuer weares!
8
“For, what is it to do, if what we do“Shall perish neere as soone as it is donne?
“What is that glory wee attaine vnto
“With all our toyle, if lost as soone as wonne?
“A small requitall, for so great adoo,
“Is this poore present breath, a smoake soone gone;
“Or these dumb stones, erected for our sake:
“Which, formless heapes few stormy changes make.
9
“Tell great ELIZA (since her dayes are grac't,“With those bright ornaments, to vs deni'd)
“That she repaire what darknesse hath defac't,
“And get our ruyn'd deedes, reedifi'd:
“She in whose all-directing eye is plac't
“A powre, the highest powers of wit to guide;
“Shee may command the worke, and ouer-see
“The holy frame, that might eternall bee.
177
10
For, would Shee be content, that Time should makeA rauenous prey, vpon her glorious Raigne;
That Darkenesse, and the Night, should ouertake
So cleare a Brightnesse, shining without staine?
Ah! no: She fosters some (no doubt) that wake
For her eternitie, with pleasing paine.
And if shee, for her selfe, prepare this good;
Let her not so neglect those of her Blood.
11
This, that great Monarch, Henrie, seem'd to craue;When (weighing what a holy motiue here
Vertue propos'd, and fit for him to haue,
Whom all times ought of dutie hold most deare)
I sigh't, and wish't that some would take t'ingraue,
With curious hand, so proud a worke to reare
(To grace the present, and to blesse times past)
That might, for euer, to our glorie last.
12
So should our well-taught times haue learn'd alike,How faire shin'd Virtue, and how foul Vice stood;
When now my selfe am driuen to mislike
Those deedes of worth, I dare not vow for good:
I cannot mone who lose, nor prayse who seeke
By mightie Actions here t'aduance their Blood,
I must say, Who wrought most, least honor had:
How euer good the Cause, the deedes were bad.
178
13
And onely tell the worst of euerie Raigne;And not the intermedled good report.
I leaue, what glorie Virtue did attaine
At th'euer memorable Agincort:
I leaue to tell, what wit, what power did gaine
Th'assieged Roan, Caen, Dreux; or in what sort:
How Maiestie, with terror, did aduance
Her conquering foote, on all subdued Fraunce.
14
All this I passe, and that magnanimous King,Mirror of vertue, miracle of worth;
Whose mighty Actions, with wise managing,
Forc't prouder boasting Climes to serue the North.
The best of all the best, the earth can bring,
Scarce equals him, in what his Raigne brought foorth;
Being of a minde, as forward to aspire,
As fit to gouerne what he did desire.
15
His comely body was a goodly seate,Where Virtue dwelt most faire; as lodg'd most pure:
A body strong; where vse of strength did get
A stronger state to do, and to endure:
His life he makes th'example, to beget
Like spirit in those, he did to good inure;
And gaue, to Worth, such life, and liuelihood,
As if hee Greatnes sought, but to do good.
179
16
Hee as the Chiefe, and all-directing head,Did with his subiects, as his members, liue;
And them to goodnesse forced not, but led;
Winning, not much to haue, but much to giue
(Deeming, the powre of his, his powr did spread)
As borne to blesse the world, and not to grieue;
Adorn'd with others spoyles, not subiects store:
No King, exacting lesse; none, winning more.
17
Hee, after that corrupted faith had bredAn ill inur'd obedience for Command;
And languishing luxuriousnes had spred
Weyward vnaptnesse ouer all the Land;
Those long vnordred troupes so marshalled,
Vnder such formall discipline to stand,
That euen his soule seem'd onely to direct
So great a body, such exployts t'effect.
18
He brings abrode distracted Discontent;Disperst ill humors into actions hie;
And, to vnite them all in one consent,
Plac't the faire marke of glorie in their eye;
That, Malice had no leasure to dissent,
Nor Enuie time to practise treacherie:
The present actions do diuert the thought
Of madnesse past, while mindes were so well wrought.
180
19
Here now were Pride, Oppression, Vsurie(The canker-eating mischiefes of the State)
Call'd foorth to prey vpon the enemie;
Whil'st the home-burth'ned, better lightned sate:
Exactors did not, with a greedy eye,
Examine states, or priuate riches rate:
The silent Courts warr'd not, with busie words;
Nor wrested law gaue the contentious, swords.
20
Now, nothing entertaines th'attentiue eare,But stratagems, assaults, surprises, fightes;
How to giue lawes to them that conquered were,
How to articulate with yeelding wightes:
The weake with mercie, and the proud with feare,
How to retaine; to giue deserts their rights,
Were now the Artes: and nothing else was thought,
But how to win, and maintaine what was got.
21
Nor here were any priuately possestOr held alone imprisoned Maiestie,
Proudly debarring entraunce from the rest;
As if the prey were theirs, by victorie.
Here, no detractor woundes who merits best;
Nor shameless brow cheeres-on impietie.
Vertue, who all her toyle with zeale had spent,
Not here, all vnrewarded, sighing went.
181
22
But, here, the equally-respecting eyeOf Powre, looking alike on like deserts,
Blessing the good, made others good thereby;
More mightie, by the multitude of hearts.
The fielde of glorie, vnto all doth lie
Open alike; honour, to all imparts.
So that the onely fashion in request,
Was, to be good, or good-like, as the rest.
23
So much, ô thou Example, dost effect(Being farre a better Maister, then Command)
That, how to do, by doing dost direct,
And teachest others action, by thy hand.
“Who followes not the course, that kings elect?
“When Princes worke, who then wil idle stand?
“And, when that dooing good is onely thought
“Worthy reward; who will be bad for nought?
24
And had not th'Earle of Cambridge, with vaine speedVntimely practiz'd for an others right,
With hope to aduance those of his proper seed
(On whome the Rule seem'd destined to light)
The Land had seene none of her owne to bleed,
During this Raigne, nor no aggreeued sight;
182
So faire a day, nor any eye lookt sad.
25
But now, when Fraunce perceiued (from afarre)The gathering tempest, growing-on from hence,
Ready to fall, threatning their State to marre,
They labour all meanes to prouide defence:
And, practising how to preuent this warre,
And shut-out such calamities from thence,
Do foster, here, some discord lately growne;
To hold Ambition busied, with her owne.
26
Finding those humors which they saw were fitSoone to be wrought, and easie to be fed,
Swolne full with enuie, that the Crowne should sit
There where it did (as if established)
And whom it toucht in Blood, to grieue at it;
They with such hopes and helps sollicited,
That this great Earle was drawne t'attempt the thing,
And practiseth how to depose the King.
27
For, being of mightie meanes to do the deed;And yet of mightier hopes, then meanes to do:
And yet of spirit, that did his hopes exceed;
And then of Blood as great, to adde thereto:
All these, with what the gold of France could breed
(Being powers enow a clyming minde to woo)
He so imploy'd, that many he had wonne,
Euen of the chiefe the King reli'd vpon.
183
28
The well-knowne right of th'Earle of March allur'dA leaning loue: whose Cause he did pretend.
Whereby, he knew that so himselfe procur'd
The Crowne for his owne children, in the ende.
For, the Earle beeing (as hee was assur'd)
Vnapt for issue, it must needes descend
On those of his, being next of Clarence race;
As who, by course of right, should hold the place.
29
It was the time, when-as the forward PrinceHad all prepar'd for his great enterprize;
And ready stand his troupes to part from hence,
And all in stately forme and order lyes,
When open Fame giues out intelligence
Of these bad complots of his enemies:
Or else, this time (of purpose) chosen is;
Though knowne before; yet let run-on, till this.
30
That this might yeeld the more to aggrauateVpon so foul a deed vntimely sought,
Now at this point, t'attempt to ruinate
So glorious a designe so forward brought,
Whil'st careful Virtue seekes t'aduance the State,
And for her euerlasting honor sought:
That though the Cause seem'd right, and title strong;
The time of dooing it, yet makes it wrong.
184
31
But, straight, an vnlamented death he had:And straight were ioyfully the Anchors weighd:
And all flocke fast aboord, with visage glad;
As if the sacrifice had nowe beene payd,
For their good speed; that made their stay so sad,
Loathing the least occasion that delayd.
And, now, new thoughts, great hopes, calme seas, fair windes,
With present action intertaine their mindes.
32
No other crosse, ô Henry, saw thy dayesBut this, that toucht thy now possessed hold;
Nor after, long, till this mans sonne assayes
To get, of thine, the right that he controll'd:
For which, contending long, his life he payes.
So that, it fatal seem'd the father should
Thy winning seeke to stay, and then his sonne
Should be the cause to lose, when thou hadst won.
33
Yet now in this so happy a meane-while,And interlightning times, thy Virtues wrought,
That Discord had no leasure to defile
So faire attempts with a tumultuous thought:
And euen thy selfe, thy selfe didst so beguile
With such attention vpon what was sought,
That time affoords not now with feare or hate
Others to seeke, thee to secure thy State.
185
34
Or else, how easie had it beene, for thee,All the pretendant race t'haue layd full lowe?
If thou proceeded hadst with crueltie,
Not suffering any fatall branch to growe:
But vnsuspicious Magnanimitie
Shames such effectes of feare, and force, to showe;
Busied in free and open Actions still
Being great: for, being good, hates to be ill.
35
And yet, such wrongs are held meete to be done,And often for the State thought requisite:
As, when the publike good depends thereon,
When great iniustice is esteem'd great right:
But yet, what good with doing ill is won?
Who hath of blood made such a benefite,
As hath not fear'd, more after then before,
And made his peace the lesse, his plague the more?
186
36
Farre otherwise dealt this vndaunted King,That cherished the ofspring of his foes;
And his Competitors to grace did bring:
And them, his friendes for Armes, and honors, chose;
As if plaine courses were the safest thing;
Where vpright goodnesse, sure, and stedfast goes,
Free from that subtile maskt impietie,
Which this depraued world calles policie.
37
Yet, how hath Fate dispos'd of all this good?What haue these Virtues after times auail'd?
In what stead hath hy-raised Valour stood,
When this continuing cause of Greatnes fail'd?
Then, when proud-growne, the irritated blood,
Enduring not it selfe, it selfe assail'd;
As though that Prowesse had but learnd to spill
Much blood abrode, to cut her throat with skill.
38
How doth th'Eternall, in the course of things,Immix the causes both of Good and Ill?
That thus the one, effects of th'other brings:
As what seemes made to blisse, is borne to spill?
What? from the best of Virtues glorie, springs
That, which the world with miserie doth fill?
Is th'end of happinesse, but wretchednesse?
Hath Sinne his plague, and Virtue no successe?
187
39
Either that is not good, the world holdes good:Or else is so confus'd with ill; that we
(Abused with th'appearing likelihood)
Run to offend, whil'st we thinke good to bee:
Or else the heauens made man (in furious blood)
To torture man; Allotting no course free
From mischiefe long: Sending faire dayes that breed
But stormes; to make, more foul, times that succeed.
40
Who would haue thought, that so great victories,Such conquests, riches, Land, and Kingdome gain'd,
Could not but haue establisht in such wise
This powrefull State, in state to haue remain'd?
Who would haue thought, that Mischiefe could deuise
A way, so soone to lose what was attain'd?
As if powre were but shew'd to grieue, not grace;
And to reduce vs into farre worse case.
41
With what contagion, Fraunce, didst thou infectThis Land, by thee made proud, to disagree;
T'inrage them so, their owne swordes to direct
Vpon them-selues, that were made sharp in thee?
Why didst thou teach them, here at home t'erect
Trophees of their blood, which of thine should bee?
Or was the date of thine affliction out,
And so (by course) was ours to come about?
188
42
But, that vntimely death of this great King,Whose nine yeeres Raigne so mightie wonders wrought,
To thee thy hopes, to vs despaire did bring;
Not long to keepe, and gouerne, what was got:
For, those that had th'affayres in managing,
Although their Countries good they greatly sought;
Yet, so ill accidentes vnfitly fell,
That their dessignes could hardly prosper wel.
43
An infant King doth in the State succeed,Scarce one yeere old; left vnto others guide:
Whose careful trust, though such as shew'd indeed,
They weigh'd their charge more then the world beside,
And did with dutie, zeale, and loue proceed;
Yet (for all what their trauaile could prouide)
Could not woo Fortune, to remaine with vs,
When this her Minion was departed thus:
44
But, by degrees first this, then that, regain'd,The turning tide beares backe, with flowing chaunce
Vnto the Dolphin, all we had attain'd,
And filles the late lowe-running hopes of Fraunce;
When Bedford (who our onely hold maintain'd)
Death takes from vs, their fortune to aduance:
And then home-strife (that on it selfe did fall)
Neglecting forraine care, did soone lose all.
189
45
Neere three score yeeres are past since BullingbrookeDid first attaine (God knows how iust) the Crowne:
And now his race, for right possessors tooke,
Were held of all, to hold nought but their owne:
When Richard, Duke of Yorke, begins to looke
Into their right, and makes his title knowne;
Wakening-vp sleeping Right (that lay as dead)
To witnesse, how his race was iniured.
46
His fathers end, in him, no feare could moueT'attempt the like, against the like of might;
Where long possession now of feare, and loue,
Seem'd to prescribe euen an innated Right.
So that, to proue his state, was to disproue
Time, law, consent, oath, and allegeance quight:
And no way, but the way of blood there was,
Through which, with all confusion hee must passe.
47
And how much better for him, had it beene,T'indure a wrong with peace, then with such toyle
“T'obtaine a bloody Right? since Right is sinne,
“That is ill sought, and purchased with spoyle.
But, this so wretched state are Kingdomes in,
Where one mans Cause, shall all the rest imbroyle:
And oft, t'aduance a Tyran to a Crowne,
Men run t'vndoo the State, that is their owne.
190
48
And yet that opportunitie, which ledHim to attempt, seemes likewise him t'excuse:
A feeble spirited King that gouerned,
(Who ill could guide the Scepter he did vse)
His enemies (that his worth maliced;
Who, both the Land, and him, did much abuse)
The peoples loue, and his apparant Right,
May seeme sufficient motiues to incite.
49
Besides; the now ripe wrath (deferd till now)Of that sure and vnfayling Iusticer,
That neuer suffers wrong so long to growe,
And to incorporate with right so farre,
As it might come to seeme the same in showe
(T'incourage those that euill minded are
By such successe) but that at last he will
Confound the branch, whose root was planted ill.
50
Else, might the impious say (with grudging spight)Doth God permit the Great to riot free,
And blesse the mightie though they do vnright,
As if he did unto their wrongs agree?
And onely plague the weake and wretched wight,
For smallest faults, euen in the high'st degree?
When he, but vsing them for others scourge,
Likewise of them at lēgth the world doth purge.
191
51
But could not yet, for blood-shed, satisfieThe now well-ruling of th'ill-gotten Crowne?
Must euen the good receiue the penaltie
Of former sinnes, that neuer were their owne?
And must a iust King's blood, with miserie
Pay for a bad, vniustly ouerthrowne?
Well; then wee see, Right in his course must goe:
And men, t'escape from blood, must keepe it so.
52
And, sure, this King, that now the Crowne possest(Henrie the sixt) was one, whose life was free
From that command of vice, whereto the rest
Of most these mightie Soueraignes subiects bee;
And numbred might haue beene, among the best
Of other men, if not of that degree:
A right good man, but yet an euill King;
Vnfit for what hee had in managing.
53
Of humble spirite, of nature continent:No thought t'increase he had; scarce keep his owne:
For pard'ning apter, then for punishment,
He chokes his powre, to haue his bountie knowne.
Farre from reuenge, soone wonne, soone made content;
As fitter for a Cloyster then a Crowne:
Whose holy minde so much addicted is
On th'world to-come, that he neglecteth this.
192
54
With such a weake-good, feeble-godly King,Hath Richard, Duke of Yorke, his Cause to trie:
Who, by th'experience of long managing
The warres of Fraunce, with supreame dignitie;
And by his owne great worth, with furthering
The common good against the enemie,
Had wrought, that zeale and loue attend his might,
And made his spirit equall vnto his Right.
55
For, now the Duke of Bedford beeing dead,He is ordain'd the Regent to succeed
In Fraunce, for fiue yeeres: where, he trauayled
With ready hand, and with as carefull heed,
To seeke to turne backe Fortune (that now fled)
And hold vp falling Power, in time of need:
And got and lost, and reattaines (againe)
That which againe was lost, for all his paine.
56
His time expir'd, he should for fiue yeeres moreHaue had his charge prolong'd: but Sommerset,
(That still had enui'd his command before)
That place, and honor, for himselfe did get:
Which ads that matter to th'already store
Of kindled hate, which such a fire doth set
Vnto the touch of a confounding flame,
As both their bloods could neuer quench the same.
193
57
And now the weakenesse of that feeble Head(That doth neglect all care, but his soules care)
So easie meanes of practice ministred,
Vnto th'ambitious members, to prepare
Their owne desires, to what their humors led;
That all good actions coldly followed are,
And sev'rall-tending hopes do wholly bend
To other now, then to the publique end.
58
And, to draw on more speedy miserie,The King vnto a fatall match is led
With Rayners daughter, King of Sicilie;
Whom, with vnlucky starres, he married:
For, by the meanes of this affinitie,
Was lost all that his father conquered;
Euen as if France had some Erynnis sent
T'auenge their wrongs, done by the insolent.
59
This marriage was the Earle of Suffolkes deed,With great rewardes won to effect the same:
Which made him that hee tooke so little heed
Vnto his Countries good, or his owne shame:
It beeing a match could stand vs in no steed
For strength, for wealth, for reputation, fame:
194
And cost vs more, then Aniou, Mauns, and Maine.
60
And yet (as if he had accomplishedSome mightie benefit vnto the Land)
He got his trauailes to be registred
In Parlement, for euermore to stand
A witnes to approue all what he did:
To th'end, that, if hereafter it were scand,
Authoritie might yet be on his side;
As doing nought but what was ratifi'd:
61
Imagining, th'allowance of that PlaceWould make that good, the which he knew was naught;
And so would his negotiation grace,
As none might think it was his priuate fault.
Wherein, though wit dealt wary in this case;
Yet, in the end, it selfe it ouer-raught.
Striuing to hide, he opened it the more;
His after-care, shewd craft had gone before.
62
Deare didst thou buy, ô King, so faire a Wife,So rare a spirit, so high a minde, the-while:
Whose portion was destruction; dowry, strife:
Whose bed was sorrow; whose embracing, spoyle:
Whose maintenance cost thee and thine, their life;
And whose best comfort, neuer was but toyle.
What Paris brought this booty of desire,
To set our mightie Ilium here on fire?
195
63
I grieue, I should be forc't to say thus much,To blame her, whom I yet must wonder at;
Whose so sweete beautie, wit, and worth, were such,
As (though she Fortune lost) she glory gat:
Yet doth my Countries zeale so neerely touch,
That here my Muse it doth exasperate;
Although vnwilling, that my pen should giue
Staine to that sex, by whom her fame doth liue.
64
For, sure, those virtues well deserv'd a Crowne.And, had it not beene ours, no doubt she might
Haue beene among the Worthies of renowne,
And now sat faire with fame, with glorie bright:
But, comming in the way where sinne was growne
So foule and thicke, it was her chaunce to light
Amidst the grosse infection of those times;
And so came stain'd with black disgrace-full crimes.
65
For, some the world must haue, on whom to layThe heauie burthen of reproche and blame;
Against whose deedes, th'afflicted may inuay,
As th'onely Authors, whence destruction came:
When yet, perhaps, 'twas not in them to stay
The current of that streame, nor help the same;
But, liuing in the eye of Action so,
Not hindring it, are thought to draw-on wo.
196
66
So much vnhappie do the Mightie stand,Who stand on other then their owne defence,
When-as destruction is so neere at hand,
That if by weakenesse, folly, negligence,
They do not coming miserie withstand,
They shall be deemed th'authors of th'offence,
And to call in, that which they kept not out;
And curst, as they who brought those plagues about.
67
And so remaine for euer rigistredIn that eternall booke of Infamie;
When yet how many other causes led
As well to that, as their iniquitie?
The worst complots oft lie close smothered:
And well-meant deedes fall out vnluckily;
Whil'st the aggrieu'd stand not to waigh th'intent;
But euer iudge according to th'euent.
68
I say not this t'excuse thy Sinne, ô Queene,Nor cleare their faults who mightie Actors are:
I cannot but affirme, thy pride hath been
A speciall meanes this Common-wealth to marre:
And that thy weyward will was plainely seene,
In vaine ambition, to presume too farre;
And that, by thee, the onely way was wrought
The Duke of Gloster to his death was brought:
197
69
A man, though seeming in thy thought to sitBetweene the light of thy desires and thee;
Yet did his taking thence plainely permit
Others to looke to that they could not see
During his life, nor would aduenture it:
When his Remoue quite made the passage free;
That, by his fall, thinking to stand alone,
Thou scarce could'st stand at all, when he was gone.
70
For, this Duke (as Protector) many yeeres,Had rul'd the Land, during the Kings young age;
And now the selfe same charge and title beares,
As if hee still were in his pupillage:
Which, such disgrace vnto the Queene appeares,
That (all incenst, with an ambitious rage)
Shee doth conspire to haue him made-away;
As one, that stayd the Current of her sway:
71
Thrust thereinto, not onely with her pride;But, by her fathers counsell and consent:
Who griev'd likewise, that any one beside,
Should haue the honor of the gouernment:
And, therefore, he such deepe aduice appli'd,
As forraine craft and cunning could inuent,
To circumuent an vnsuspecting wight,
Before he should discerne of their despight.
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72
And many ready hands shee straight doth finde,To ayde her deed, of such as could not brooke
The length of one mans office, in that kind;
Who, all th'especiall Charges vnder-tooke,
Rul'd all, himselfe: and neuer had the minde
T'impart a part with others; who would looke
To haue likewise some honor in their hands,
And griev'd at such ingrossing of Commands.
73
For, had he not had such a greedy loueTo intertaine his Offices too long,
Enuie had beene vnable to reproue
His acted life, vnless shee did him wrong:
But, hauing liv'd, so many yeeres, aboue,
He grieues now to descend, to be lesse strong,
And kils that fame that virtue did beget;
Chose to be held lesse good, then seene lesse great.
74
“For, could the mightie but giue bounds to pride,“And weigh-backe Fortune, ere shee pull Them downe;
“Contented with inough, with honors satisfi'd,
“Not striuing how to make so much their owne,
“As to leaue nothing for the rest beside;
“Who seeme by their high-spreading ouer-growne
“(Whil'st they themselues remaine in all mens sight,
“The odious marke of hatred and despight)
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75
“Then neuer should so many tragedies“Burthen our knowledge, with their bloody end:
“Nor their disgrac't confounded families,
“From so high pride, to so lowe shame descend;
“But, planted on that ground where safetie lyes,
“Their braunches should to eternitie extend:
“But euer, they, who ouer-looke so much,
“Will ouer-see themselues; their state is such.
76
Seuere he was, and strictly did obserueDue forme of Iustice towards euery wight;
Vnmoueable, and neuer won to swerue
For any cause, in what he thought was right:
Wherein, although he did so well deserue;
In the licentious, yet, it bred despight:
“So that euen Virtue seemes an Actor too,
“To ruine those, Fortune prepares t'vndoo.
77
Now, such, being forward, who (the Queene well knewe)Hated his might, and glad to innouate;
Vnto so great, and strong a partie grew,
As it was easie to subuert his State:
And onely hope of alteration drew
Many to yeeld, that had no cause to hate.
“For, euen with goodnesse men growe discontent,
“Where States are ripe to fall, and virtue spent.
200
78
And, taking all the Rule into her hand(Vnder the shadow of that feeble King)
The Duke sh'excludes from Office and Command,
And in the reach of enmitie doth bring,
From that respected height where he did stand
(When malice scarce durst mutter any thing):
And now the worst of him comes all reueal'd,
Which former feare, or rigor kept conceal'd.
79
Now is he taxèd, that he rather soughtHis priuate profit, then the publique good;
And many things presumptuously had wrought;
Other, then with our lawes, and customes stood:
As one, that would into the Land haue brought
The Ciuile forme, in cases touching blood;
And such poore Crimes: that shew'd, their spight was soūd;
But yet bewrayde, their matter wanted ground.
80
Yet serv'd they well the turne, and did effectThat which is easie wrought in such a case:
Where, what suborned Iustice shal obiect,
Is to the purpose, and must passe with grace;
And what the wretched bring, of no effect:
Whose haynous faultes his matter must deface.
“For, where Powre hath decreed to finde th'offence,
“The Cause is better still, then the defence.
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81
A Parlement, at Berry summoned,Dispatcht the deed, more speedily then well.
For, thither came the Duke without all dread,
Or ought imagining of what befell:
Where, now the matter is so followed,
That he conuented is, ere he could tell
He was in danger, or had done offence;
And presently to prison sent, from thence.
82
Which quicke, and sodaine action gaue no timeFor men to waigh the iustice of the deed;
Whil'st looking onely on the vrged crime,
Vnto the farther drift they take no heed.
For, these occasions taken in the prime
Of courses new, that old dislikes succeed,
Leaue not behind that feeling touch of wrong:
Satietie makes passions still lesse strong.
83
And yet they seem'd some mutinie to doubt,For thus proceeding with a man of might;
Consid'ring hee was popular and stout,
And resolute would stand upon his Right:
And therefore did they cast this way about,
To haue him closely murdred out of sight;
202
Might come togither, and togither die:
84
Reckning it better, since his end is ment,And must be wrought, at once to rid it cleere,
And put it to the fortune of th'euent;
Then by long doing, to be long in feare:
When, in such courses of high punishment,
The deed, and the attempt, like daunger beare:
And oft, things done (perhaps) do lesse annoy,
Then may the doing, handled with delay.
85
And, so, they had it straight accomplished.For, next day after his commitment, he
Is dead brought forth; being found so in his bed:
Which was by sodaine sickenesse sayd to bee,
That had vpon his sorrowes newly bred;
As by apparant tokens men might see.
And thus ô Sickenesse, thou art oft beli'd;
When death hath many wayes to come, beside.
86
Are these the deedes, high forraine wittes inuent?Is this that Wisedome whereof they so boast?
Well; then I would it neuer had beene spent
Heere, amongst vs, nor brought from out their coast:
Let their vile cunning, in their limits pent,
Remaine amongst themselues, that like it most:
And let the North (they count of colder blood)
Be held more grosse, so it remaine more good.
203
87
Let them haue fairer citties, goodlier soyles,And sweeter fieldes, for beautie to the eye,
So long as they haue these vngodly wyles,
Such detestable vile impietie:
And let vs want their Vines, their Fruites the-whyles,
So that wee want not fayth and honestie:
We care not for those pleasures; so we may
Haue better hearts, and stronger hands then they.
88
Neptune, keepe-out, from thy imbraced Ile,This foul contagion of iniquitie:
Drowne all corruptions, comming to defile
Our faire proceedings ordred formally:
Keepe vs meere English: let not craft beguile
Honor and Iustice, with strange subtiltie:
Let vs not thinke, how that our good can frame,
Which ruin'd hath the Authors of the same.
89
But, by this impious meanes, that worthy manIs brought vnto this lamentable end,
And, now, that Current with maine furie ran
(The stop remov'd, that did the course defend)
Vnto the full of mischiefe, that began
T'a vniuersall ruine to extend;
That Isthmus fayling, which the Land did keep,
From the intire possession of the Deepe.
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90
And now the King, alone, all open lay;No vnder-prop of Blood, to stay him by.
None, but himselfe stands weakely in the way
Twixt Yorke, and the affected sov'raignty:
Gone is that barre, that would haue beene the stay
T'haue kept him backe, from mounting vp so hie.
“But see (ah!) see: What state stand these men in,
“That cannot liue without, nor with their kin?
91
The Queene hath yet, by this, her full desire;And now she with her Minion, Suffolke, raigns:
Now she hath all authoritie intire;
And all affayres vnto her selfe retains:
And onely Suffolke is aduaunced hier,
He is the man rewarded, for his pains;
He, that did her in stead most chiefly stand;
And more aduanc't her, then hee did the Land.
92
Which when they saw, who better did expect,Then they began their error to descry;
And well perceiue, that onely the defect
Was in their iudgements, passion-drawne awry;
Found, formall rigor fitter to direct,
Then pride and insolent inconstancie.
“Better seueritie, that's right and iust,
“Then impotent affections, led with lust.
205
93
And thereupon, in sorrow thus complaine;“What wondrous inconuenience do they feele,
“Where as such imbecillitie doth raigne,
“As so neglects the care of Common-weale?
“Where euer one or other doth obtaine
“So high a grace thus absolute to deale;
“The-whilst th'aggreeued subiect suffers, stil,
“The pride of some predominating will?
94
“And euer, one remov'd, a worse succeedes:“So that the best, that we can hope, is Warre,
“Tumults, and stirres, that this disliking breedes:
“The sword must mend, what Insolence doth marre.
“For, what rebellions, and what bloody deedes,
“Haue euer followed, where such courses are?
“What oft-remoues? what death of Counsailers?
“What murder? what exile of Officers?
95
“Witnesse the Spencers, Gauestone, and Vere,“The mighty Minions of our feeblest Kings;
“Who euer Subiects to their subiects were,
“And onely the procurers of these things:
“When worthy Monarchs, that hold honour deare,
“Maister themselues, and theirs; vvhich euer brings
“That vniuersall reuerence, and respect:
“For, who waighes him, that doth himselfe neglect?
206
96
“And yet our case is like to be farre worse:“Hauing a King, though not so bent to ill,
“Yet so neglecting good, that giuing force
“By giuing leaue, doth all good order kill;
“Suffring a violent Woman take her course,
“To manage all, according to her will:
“Which, how she doth begin, her deedes expresse;
“And, what will be the end, our selues may ghesse.
97
Which after followed, euen as they did dread,When now the shamefull losse of Fraunce, much grieues:
Which vnto Suffolke is attributed:
As who in all mens sight most hatefull liues:
And is accus'd, that he (with lucre led)
Betraies the State, and secret knowledge giues
Of our designes; and, all that we did hold,
By his corruption, is or lost, or sold.
98
And, as hee deales abroad, so likewise here,He robs at home, the Treasurie no lesse;
Here, where he all authorities doth beare,
And makes a Monopoly of Offices:
He is inricht, h'is rais'd, and placèd neare;
And onely he, giues counsaile to oppresse:
207
Offer to be reuengèd of these harmes.
99
The Queene, perceiuing in what case she stoodeTo lose her Minion, or ingage her State;
(After with long contention in her blood,
Loue and Ambition, did the Cause debate)
Shee yields to Pride: and rather thought it good,
To sacrifice her Loue vnto their hate;
Then to aduenture else the losse of all:
Which (by maintaining him) was like to fall.
100
Yet, seeking at the first to temporize,Shee tries if that some short Imprisonment
Would calme their heat: when that would not suffize,
Then to exile him she must needs consent;
Hoping, that time would salue it in such wise,
As yet at length they might become content,
And shee againe, might haue him home at last,
When this first furie of their rage was past.
101
But, as he to his iudged exile went,Hard on the shore he comes incountered
208
As put his backe-returne quite out of dread:
For, there he had his rightfull punishment,
Though wrongly done; and there he lost his head:
Part of his blood hath Neptune, part the Sand;
As who had mischiefe wrought by sea and land.
102
Whose death, when swift-wingd Fame at full conuaidTo this disturbed Queene, misdoubting nought;
Despight, and Sorrow such affliction laid
Vpon her soule, as wondrous passions wrought.
“And art thou Suffolke, thus, said she, betraid?
“And haue my fauours thy destruction brought?
“Is this their gaine, whom Highnesse fauoureth,
“Who chiefe preferd, stand as preferd to death?
103
“O fatall grace! without which, men complaine,“And with it perish; what preuailes that we
“Must weare the Crowne, and other men must raigne,
“And cannot stand to be, that which we be?
“Must our owne Subiects limit and constraine
“Our fauours, wher-as they themselues decree?
“Must we, our loue, at their appointment, place?
“Do we commaund, and they direct our grace?
209
104
“Must they our powre, thus from our will, diuide?“And haue wee might, but must not vse our might?
“Poore Maiestie, which other men must guide;
“Whose discontent can neuer looke aright:
“For, euer-more wee see those who abide
“Gracious in ours, are odious in their sight,
“Who would all-maistring Maiestie defeat
“Of her best grace; that is, to make men Great.
210
105
“But, well; We see, although the King be Head,“The State will be the Heart. This Soueraigntie
“Is but in place, not powre; and gouerned
“By th'equall Scepter of Necessitie.
“And we haue seene more Princes ruined,
“By their imoderat fauouring priuatly,
“Then by seuerity in generall.
“For, best h'is lik't, that is alike to all.
106
Thus stormes this Lady, all disquieted;When-as farre greater tumults now burst out:
Which close and cunningly were practiced,
By such, as sought great hopes to bring about.
For, vp in Armes in Kent were gathered
A mighty insolent rebellious rout,
Vnder a dangerous Head; who, to deterr
The State the more, himselfe nam'd Mortimer.
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107
The Duke of Yorke, that did not idle stand(But seekes to worke on all aduantages)
Had likewise in this course a secret hand,
And hartned on their chiefest complices;
To try how here the people of the Land
Would (if occasion serv'd) b'in readiness
To aide that Line, if one should come in deed
To moue his Right, and in due course proceed;
108
Knowing himselfe to be the onely one,That must attempt the thing, if any should:
And therefore, lets the Rebell now run-on
With that false Name, t'effect the best he could;
To make a way for him to worke vpon,
Who but on certaine ground aduenture would.
For, if the Traitor sped, the gaine were his;
If not, yet he stands safe, and blamelesse is.
109
T'attempt' with others dangers, not his owne,He counts it wisedome, if it could be wrought:
And t'haue the humour of the people knowne,
Was now that, which was chiefely to be sought.
For, with the best, he knew himselfe was growne
In such account, as made him take no thought;
Hauing observ'd, in those he meant to proue,
Their wit, their wealth, their cariage, and their loue.
212
110
With whome, and with his owne alliances,He first begins to open (in some wise)
The Right he had; yet, with such doubtfulnes,
As rather sorrow, then his drift descries:
Complayning of his Countries wretchednes,
In what a miserable case it lies;
And how much it imports them to prouide
For their defence, against this womans pride.
111
Then, with the discontented he doth deale,In sounding theirs, not vttering his intent;
As be'ing aduis'd, not so much to reueale,
Whereby they might be made againe content:
But, when they grieued for the Common-weale,
He doth perswade them to be patient,
And to indure; there was no other course:
Yet, so perswades, as makes their malice worse.
112
And then, with such as with the time did run,In most vpright opinion he doth stand;
As one, that neuer crost what they begun,
But seem'd to like that which they tooke in hand:
Seeking all causes of offence to shun,
Prayses the Rule, and blames th'vnruly Land;
Works so with gifts, and kindely offices,
That, euen of them, he serues his turne no lesse.
213
113
Then, as for those, who were his followers(Being all choyce men for virtues, or desearts)
He so with grace, and benefits prefers,
That he becomes the Monarch of their hearts.
He gets the learned, for his Counsaylers;
And cherishes all men of rarest parts:
“To whom, good done, doth an impressiō strike
“Of ioy and loue, in all that are alike.
114
And now, by meanes of th'intermitted warre,Many most valiant men, impov'rished,
Onely by him fed and relieued are;
Onely respected, grac't and honoured.
Which let him in, vnto their hearts so farre,
As they by him were wholly to be led.
“He onely treads the sure and perfect path
“To Greatnesse, who loue and opinion hath.
115
And, to haue one some certaine Prouince his,As the maine body that must worke the feate,
Yorkeshire he chose, the place wherein he is
By title, liuings, and possessions great.
No Country hee preferres, so much as this:
Here, hath his Bountie, her abiding seat:
Here, is his Iustice, and relieuing hand,
Ready to all, that in distresse do stand.
214
116
What with his tenants, seruants, followers, friends,And their alliances, and amities,
All that Shire vniuersally attends
His hand, held vp to any enterprize.
And thus farre, Virtue with her power extends:
The rest, touching th'euent, in Fortune lies.
With which accomplements, so mightie growne,
Forward he tends, with hope t'attaine a Crowne.
The ende of the fift Booke.
215
THE SIXT BOOKE.
THE ARGVMENT.
The bad successe of Cades rebellion:Yorkes open practise and conspiracie:
His comming in, and his submission:
Th'effect of Printing and Artillerie.
Burdeux reuolts; craues our protection:
Talbot, defending ours, dyes gloriously.
The French warres end: and Yorke begins againe;
And, at S. Albones, Sommerset is slaine.
1
The furious traine of that tumultuous rout,Whom close sub-ayding power, and good successe,
Had made vnwisely proud, and fondly stout,
Thrust headlong on, oppression to oppresse;
216
That they the publique wrongs meant to redresse:
“Formelesse themselues, reforming doe pretend;
“As if Confusion could Disorder mend.
2
And on they march, with their false-named Head,Of base and vulgar birth, though noble fayn'd:
Who, puft with vaine desires, to London led
His rash abused troupes, with shadowes train'd:
When-as the King, thereof ascertainèd,
Supposing some small power would haue restrain'd
Disordred rage, sends with a simple crew
Sir Humfrey Stafford; whom they ouer-threw.
3
Which so increast th'opinion of their might,That much it gaue to do, and much it wrought;
Confirm'd their rage, drew on the vulgar wight,
Call'd foorth the timorous, fresh partakers brought:
217
Yet durst not venture their estates for nought:
But, see'ing the Cause had such aduantage got,
Occasion makes them stirre, that else would not.
4
So much he erres, that scornes, or else neglectsThe small beginnings of arysing broyles;
And censures others, not his owne defects,
And with a selfe-conceite himselfe beguiles;
Thinking small force will compasse great effects,
And spares at first to buy more costly toyles:
“When true-obseruing prouidence, in warre,
“Still makes her foes, farre stronger then they are.
5
Yet this good fortune, all their fortune mard;“Which, fooles by helping, euer doth suppresse.
For, wareless insolence (whil'st vndebard
Of bounding awe) runnes on to such excesse,
That following lust, and spoyle, and blood, so hard,
Sees not how they procure their owne distresse:
The better, lothing courses so impure,
Rather will like their wounds, then such a cure.
6
For, whil'st this wilde vnrained multitude(Led with an vnfore-seeing greedy mind
Of an imagin'd good, that did delude
Their ignorance, in their desires made blind)
Ransacke the Cittie, and (with hands imbru'd)
Run to all out-rage in th'extreamest kind;
Heaping-vp wrath and horrour, more and more,
They adde fresh guilt, to mischiefes done before.
218
7
And yet, se'ing all this sorting to no end,But to their owne; no promis'd ayde t'appeare;
No such partakers as they did attend;
Nor such successes as imagin'd were;
Good men resolv'd, the present to defend;
Iustice, against them with a brow seuere:
Themselues, feard of themselues, tyr'd with excesse,
“Found, mischiefe was no fit way to redresse.
8
And as they stand in desperat comberment,Enuirond round with horror, blood, and shame:
Crost of their course, despayring of th'euent
A pardon (that smooth bait for basenesse) came:
219
Beeing once pronounc't, they straight imbrace the same:
And, as huge snowy Mountaines melt with heat;
So they dissolv'd with hope, and home they get:
9
Leauing their Captaine to discharge, alone,The shot of blood, consumed in their heate:
Too small a sacrifice, for mischiefs done,
Was one mans breath, which thousands did defeat.
Vnrighteous Death, why art thou but all one
Vnto the small offender and the great?
Why art thou not more then thou art, to those
That thousands spoyle, and thousands liues do lose?
10
This furie, passing with so quick an end,Disclos'd not those that on th'aduantage lay:
Who, seeing the course to such disorder tend,
With-drew their foote, asham'd to take that way;
Or else preuented, whil'st they did attend
Some mightier force, or for occasion stay:
But, what they meant, ill-fortune must not tell;
Mischiefe be'ing oft made good, by speeding well.
11
Put-by from this, the Duke of Yorke dessignesAnother course to bring his hopes about:
And, with those friends affinitie combines
In surest bonds, his thoughts he poureth-out:
220
The faith of whom he had both hope and doubt;
Meaning, in more apparant open course,
To try his right, his fortune, and his force.
12
Loue, and alliance, had most firmly ioyndVnto his part, that mighty Familie,
The faire distended stock of Neuiles kind;
Great by their many issued progenie:
But greater by their worth (that clearely shin'd,
And gaue faire light to their nobilitie)
So that each corner of the Land became
Enricht with some great Worthy, of that name.
221
13
But greatest in renowne doth Warwicke sit;That braue King-maker Warwicke; so farre growne,
In grace with Fortune, that he gouerns it,
And Monarchs makes; and, made, againe puts downe.
What reuolutions, his first-mouing wit
Heere brought about, are more then too well knowne;
The fatall kindle-fire of those hot daies:
Whose worth I may, whose worke I cannot praise.
14
With him, with Richard, Earle of Salisbury,Courtny and Brooke, and other his deare friends;
He intimates his minde; and openly
The present bad proceedings discommends;
Laments the State, the peoples misery,
And (that which such a pitier seldom mends)
Oppression, that sharp two-edged sword,
That others wounds, and wounds likewise his Lord.
15
“My Lords (saith he) how things are caried heere,“In this corrupted State, you plainely see;
“What burthen our abused shoulders beare,
“Charg'd with the waight of imbecillitie:
“And in what base account all we appeare,
“That stand without their grace that all must be;
“And who they be, and how their course succeedes,
“Our shame reports, and time bewraies their deedes.
222
16
“Aniou and Maine (the name that foule appeares;“Th'eternall scarre of our dismembred Land)
“Guien, all lost; that did, three hundred yeares,
“Remaine subiected vnder our Commaund.
“From whence, mee thinks, there sounds vnto our eares
“The voice of those deare ghosts, whose liuing hand
“Got it with sweat, and kept it with their blood,
“To doe vs (thankless vs) their of-spring good:
17
“And seeme to cry; What? can you thus behold“Their hatefull feete vpon our Graues should tread?
“Your Fathers Graues; who gloriously did hold
“That, which your shame hath left recouered?
“Redeeme our Tumbs, O spirits too too cold:
“Pull-backe these Towres, our Armes haue honored.
“These Towres are yours: these Forts we built for you:
“These walles doe beare our names; and are your due.
18
“Thus, well they may vpbraid our retchlesnes;“Whil'st wee, as if at league with infamie,
“Ryot away, for nought, whole Prouinces;
“Giue-vp, as nothing worth, all Normandie;
“Traffique important Holdes, sell Fortresses
“So long, that nought is left but misery;
“Poore Calais, and these water-walles about,
“That basely pownd vs in, from breaking out.
223
19
“And (which is worse) I feare, we shall in th'end“(Throwne from the glory of inuading Warre)
“Be forc't our proper limits to defend:
“Where euer men are not the same they are,
“The hope of conquest, doth their spirits extend
“Beyond the vsuall powres of valour, farre:
“For, more is he that ventureth for more,
“Then who fights, but for what hee had before.
20
“Put-to your hands, therefore, to reskew now“Th'indangered State (deare Lords) from this disgrace:
“And let vs in our honour, labour how
“To bring this scorned Land in better case.
“No doubt, but God our action will allow,
“That knowes my right, and how they rule the place,
“Whose weakeness calls-vp our vnwillingnesse;
“As opening euen the doore to our redresse.
21
“Though I protest, it is not for a Crowne“My soule is moov'd (yet, if it be my right,
“I haue no reason to refuse mine owne)
“But onely these indignities to right.
“And what if God (whose iudgements are vnknowne)
“Hath me ordain'd the man, that by my might
“My Country shall be blest? If so it be;
“By helping me, you raise your selues with me.
224
22
Those, in whom zeale and amity had bredA fore-impression of the right he had,
These stirring words so much incouraged,
That (with desire of innouation mad)
They seem'd to runne-afore, not to be led;
And to his fire doe quicker fuell adde:
For, where such humors are prepar'd before;
The opening them, makes them abound the more.
23
Then counsell take they, fitting their desire:(For, nought that fits not their desire is waigh'd)
The Duke is straight aduised to retire
Into the bounds of Wales, to leauie ayd:
Which vnder smooth pretence he doth require;
T'amoue such persons as the State betray'd,
And to redresse th'oppression of the Land;
The charme, which Weakenesse seldome doth withstand.
24
Ten thousand, straight caught with this bait of breath,Are towards greater lookt-for forces led:
Whose power, the King, by all meanes, trauaileth
In their arising to haue ruined:
225
That all ambushments warily are fled;
Refusing ought to hazard by the way,
Keeping his Greatnesse for a greater day.
25
And to the Cittie straight directs his course;The Cittie, seate of Kings, and Kings chiefe grace:
Where, hauing found his entertainement worse
By farre, then he expected in that place;
Much disappointed, drawes from thence his force,
And towards better trust, marcheth apace;
And downe in Kent (fatall for discontents)
Neere to thy bankes, faire Thames, doth pitch his tents.
26
And there, intrencht, plants his Artillerie;Artillerie, th'infernall instrument,
New-brought from hell, to scourge mortalitie
With hideous roaring, and astonishment:
Engine of horrour, fram'd to terrifie
And teare the Earth, and strongest Towres to rent:
Torment of Thunder, made to mocke the skies;
As more of power, in our calamities.
27
If that first fire (subtile Prometheus brought)Stolne out of heaven, did so afflict man-kinde,
That euer since, plagu'd with a curious thought
Of stirring search, could neuer quiet finde;
226
Lightning and thunder both, in wondrous kinde?
What plague deserues so proud an enterprize?
Tell Muse, and how it came, and in what wise.
28
It was the time, when faire Europa sateWith many goodly Diadems addrest;
And all her parts in florishing estate
Lay beautiful, in order, at their rest:
No swelling member, vnproportionate,
Growne out of forme, sought to disturbe the rest:
The lesse, subsisting by the greaters might;
The greater, by the lesser kept vpright.
29
No noise of tumult euer wak't them all:Onely, perhaps, some priuate iarre within,
For titles, or for confines, might befall;
Which, ended soone, made better loue begin:
But no eruption did, in generall,
Breake down their rest, with vniuersall sin:
No publique shock disioynted this faire frame,
Till Nemesis from out the Orient came;
227
30
Fierce Nemesis, mother of fate and change,Sword-bearer of th'eternall Prouidence
(That had so long, with such afflictions strange,
Confounded Asias proud magnificence,
And brought foule impious Barbarisme to range
On all the glory of her excellence)
Turnes her sterne looke at last vnto the West;
As griev'd to see on earth such happy rest.
31
And for Pandora calleth presently(Pandora, Ioues faire gift, that first deceiv'd
Poore Epimetheus imbecillitie,
That thought he had a wondrous boone receiv'd;
By means whereof, curious Mortalitie
Was of all former quiet quite bereav'd):
To whom, beeing come, deckt with all qualities,
The wrathfull Goddesse breakes out in this wise:
32
Doost thou not see in what secure estateThose florishing faire Westerne parts remaine?
As if they had made couenaunt with Fate,
To be exempted free from others paine;
At-one with their desires, friends with Debate,
In peace with Pride, content with their owne gaine;
Their bounds containe their minds, their minds appli'd
To haue their bounds with plentie beautifi'd.
228
33
Deuotion (mother of Obedience)Beares such a hand on their credulitie,
That it abates the spirit of eminence,
And busies them with humble pietie.
For, see what workes, what infinite expence,
What monuments of zeale they edifie;
As if they would, so that no stop were found,
Fill all with Temples, make all holy ground.
34
But wee must coole this all-belieuing zeale,That hath enioy'd so faire a turne so long;
And other reuolutions must reueale,
Other desires, other designes among:
Dislike of this, first by degrees shall steale
Vpon the soules of men, perswaded wrong:
And that abused Power, which thus hath wrought,
Shall giue herselfe the sword to cut her throat.
35
Goe therefore thou, with all thy stirring traineOf swelling Sciences, the gifts of griefe:
Go loose the links of that soule-binding chaine;
Inlarge this vninquisitiue Beliefe:
Call-vp mens spirits, that simplenes retaine:
Enter their harts, & Knowledge make the thiefe
To open all the doores, to let in light;
That all may all things see, but what is right.
229
36
Opinion Arme against Opinion growne:Make new-borne Contradiction still to rise;
As if Thebes-founder, Cadmus, tongues had sowne,
Instead of teeth, for greater mutinies.
Bring new-defended Faith, against Faith knowne:
Weary the Soule with contrarieties;
Till all Religion become retrograde,
And that faire tire, the maske of sinne be made.
37
And, better to effect a speedy end,Let there be found two fatall Instruments,
The one to publish, th'other to defend,
Impious Contention, and proud Discontents:
Make, that instamped Characters may send
Abroad, to thousands, thousand mens intent;
And in a moment may dispatch much more,
Then could a world of Pennes performe before.
38
Whereby, all quarrels, titles, secrecies,May vnto all be presently made knowne;
Factions prepar'd, parties allur'd to rise,
Sedition vnder faire pretentions sowne:
Whereby, the vulgar may become so wise,
That (with a self-presumption ouer-growne)
They may of deepest mysteries debate,
Controule their betters, censure actes of State.
230
39
And then, when this dispersed mischiefe shallHaue brought confusion in each mysterie,
Call'd-vp contempt of states in generall,
Ripened the humor of impiety;
Then haue they th'other Engin, where-with-all
They may torment their selfe-wrought miserie,
And scourge each other, in so strange a wise,
As time or Tyrants neuer could deuise.
40
For, by this stratagem, they shall confoundAll th'antient forme and discipline of Warre:
Alter their Camps, alter their fights, their ground,
Daunt mightie spirits, prowesse and manhood marre:
For, basest cowardes from a far shall wound
The most couragious, forc't to fight afarre;
Valour, wrapt vp in smoake (as in the night)
Shall perish without witnesse, without sight.
41
But first, before this generall diseaseBreake foorth into so great extreamitie,
Prepare it by degrees; first kill this ease,
Spoyle this proportion, marre this harmonie:
Make greater States vpon the lesser seaze:
Ioyne many kingdomes to one soueraigntie:
Rayse a few Great, that may (with greater power)
Slaughter each other, and mankinde deuour.
231
42
And first begin, with factions, to diuideThe fairest Land; that from her thrusts the rest,
As if she car'd not for the world beside;
A world within her selfe, with wonders blest:
Raise such a strife as time shall not decide,
Till the deare blood of most of all her best
Be poured foorth, and all her people tost
With vnkinde tumults, and almost all lost.
43
Let her be made the sable Stage, whereonShall first be acted bloodie Tragedies;
That all the neighbour States, gazing thereon,
May make their profite, by her miseries:
And those, whom she before had marcht vpon,
(Hauing, by this, both time and meane to rise)
Made martiall by her Armes, shall growe so great,
As (saue their owne) no force shall them defeat:
44
That when their power, vnable to sustaineAnd beare it selfe, vpon it selfe shall fall,
She may (recouered of her wounds againe)
Sit and behold their Parts as tragicall:
For there must come a time, that shall obtaine
Truce for distresse; when make-peace Hymen shall
Bring the conioyned aduerse powers to bed,
And set the Crowne (made one) vpon one head.
232
45
Out of which blessed vnion, shall ariseA sacred branch (with grace and glory blest)
Whose Virtue shall her Land so patronize,
As all our power shall not her dayes molest:
For, shee (faire shee) the Minion of the skies,
Shall purchase (of the high'st) to hers such rest
(Standing betweene the wrath of heauen and them)
As no distresse shall touch her Diadem:
46
And, from the Rockes of Safetie, shall descrieThe wondrous wracks, that Wrath layes ruined;
All round about her, blood and miserie,
Powres betray'd, Princes slaine, Kings massacred,
States all-confus'd, brought to calamitie,
And all the face of Kingdomes altered:
Yet, she the same inuiolable stands,
Deare to her owne, wonder to other Lands.
47
But, let not her defence discourage thee.For, neuer one, but shee, shall haue this grace,
From all disturbs to be so long kept free,
And with such glorie to discharge that place.
233
Stopt of thy course, reckon it no disgrace;
Sith shee alone (being priuiledg'd from hie)
Hath this large Patent of her dignitie.
48
This charge the Goddesse gaue: when, ready straightThe subtill messenger, accompayned
With all her crew of Artes that on her wait,
Hastes to effect what she was counsailed:
And out she pours, of her immense conceit,
Vpon such searching spirits as trauayled
In penetrating hidden secrecies;
Who soone these meanes of miserie deuise.
49
And boldly breaking with rebellious mindeInto their mothers close-lockt Treasurie,
They Mineralls combustible do finde,
Which in stopt concaues placed cunningly,
They fire: and fire, imprisoned against kinde,
Teares out a way, thrusts out his enemie;
Barking with such a horror, as if wroth
With man, that wrongs himselfe, and Nature both.
50
And this beginning had this cursed frame,Which Yorke now planted hath against his King;
Presuming, by his powre, and by the same,
His purpose vnto good effect to bring;
234
Sent from the King, to vnderstand what thing
Had thrust him into these proceedings bad,
And what he sought, and what intent he had.
51
Who, with words mildly-sharpe, gently-seuere,Wrought on those wounds that must be toucht with heed;
Applying rather salues of hope, then feare,
Least corrasiues should desparat mischiefes breed.
And, what my Lord (sayd they) should moue you here,
In this vnseemely manner to proceed?
Whose worth being such, as all the Land admires,
Hath fairer wayes then these, to your desires.
52
Wil you, whose means, whose many friends, whose grace,Can worke the world in peace vnto your will,
Take such a course, as shal your Blood deface,
And make (by handling bad) a good Cause, ill?
How many hearts hazard you in this case,
That in all quiet plots would ayde you still?
Hauing in Court a Partie farre more strong
Then you conceiue, prest to redresse your wrong.
53
Phy, phy! forsake this hatefull course, my Lord:Downe with these Armes, that will but wound your Cause.
What Peace may do, hazard not with the Sword:
Lay downe the force that from your force with-drawes;
235
As shal dispense with rigor and the lawes;
And interpose this solemne fayth of our
Betwixt your fault, and the offended Power.
54
Which ingins of protests, and proffers kinde,Vrg'd out of seeming griefe and shewes of loue,
So shooke the whole foundation of his Minde,
As they did all his resolution moue,
And present seem'd vnto their course inclin'd;
So that the King would Sommerset remoue;
The man, whose most intolerable pride
Trode down his worth, and all good mens beside.
55
Which, they there vow'd, should presently be done:For, what will not peace-louers willing graunt,
Where dangerous euents depend thereon,
And men vnfurnisht, and the State in want?
And if with words the conquest will be won,
The cost is small: and who holds breath so scant
As then to spare, though with indignitie?
“Better descend, then end, in Maiestie.
56
And here-upon the Duke dissolues his force,Submits him to the King, on publique vow:
The rather too, presuming on this course,
For-that his sonne, the Earle of March, was now
236
His peace; which else the King would not allow.
For, seeing not all of him, in him, he hath,
His death would but giue life to greater wrath.
57
Yet, comming to the King, in former place(His foe) the Duke of Sommerset he findes:
Whom openly, reproching to his face,
Hee charg'd with treason in the highest kindes.
The Duke returnes like speeches of disgrace;
And fierie wordes bewray'd their flaming mindes:
But yet the triall was for them deferd,
Till fitter time allow'd it to be heard.
58
At Westminster, a Counsell, sommoned,Deliberates what course the Cause should end
Of th'apprehended Duke of Yorke; whose head
Doth now on others doubtfull breath depend.
Law fiercely vrg'd his act, and found him dead:
Friends fayl'd to speake, where they could not defend:
Onely the King himselfe for mercy stood;
As, prodigall of life, niggard of blood.
59
And, as if angrie with the Lawes of death,“Ah! why should you, sayd he, vrge things so far?
“You, that inur'd with mercenarie breath,
“And hyred tongue, so peremptorie are;
“Brauing on him whom sorrow prostrateth:
“As if you did with poore Affliction warre,
237
“Bringing the lawes to wound, neuer to ayd.
60
“Dispense sometime with sterne seueritie;“Make not the Lawes still traps to apprehend;
“Win grace vpon the bad with clemencie;
“Mercie may mend, whom malice made offend.
“Death giues no thankes, but checkes Authoritie:
“And life doth onely Maiestie commend.
“Reuenge dies not, Rigor begets new wrath:
“And blood hath neuer glorie; Mercy hath.
61
“And for my part (and my part should be chiefe)“I am most willing to restore his state:
“And rather had I win him with reliefe,
“Then lose him with despight, and get more hate.
“Pittie drawes loue: blood-shed is natures griefe;
“Compassion followes the vnfortunate:
“And, losing him, in him I lose my power.
“We rule who liue: the dead are none of our.
62
“And should our rigor lessen then the same,“Which we with greater glorie should retaine?
“No; let him liue: his life must giue vs fame;
“The childe of mercie newly borne againe.
“As often burials are Physicians shame;
“So, many deaths argue a Kings hard Raigne.
“Why should we say, The Law must have her vigor?
“The Law kills him; but quits not vs of rigor.
238
63
“You, to get more preferment by your wit,“Others to gaine the spoyles of miserie,
“Labour with all your powre to follow it;
“Shewing vs feares, to draw-on crueltie.
“You vrge th'offence, not tell vs what is fit:
“Abusing wrong-informed Maiestie:
“As if our powre, were onely but to slay,
“And that to saue, were a most dangerous way.
64
Thus, out of Pittie, spake that holy King:Whom milde affections led to hope the best;
When Sommerset began to vrge the thing
With words of hotter temper, thus exprest;
“Deare soueraigne Lord, the Cause in managing
“Is more then yours; t'imports the publique rest:
“We all haue part, it toucheth all our good:
“And life's ill spar'd, that's spar'd to cost more blood.
65
“Compassion, here, is crueltie my Lord;“Pittie will cut our throates, for sauing so.
“What benefite enioy we by the sword,
“If mischiefe shall escape to draw-on mo?
“Why should we giue, what Law cannot afford,
“To be'accessaries to our proper wo?
“Wisedome must iudge, 'twixt men apt to amend,
“And mindes incurable, borne to offend.
239
66
“It is no priuat Cause (I do protest)“That moues me thus to prosecute his deede.
“Would God his blood, and mine, had well releast
“The dangers, that his pride is like to breed.
“Although, at me, hee seemes to haue addrest
“His spight; 'tis not the end hee hath decreed,
“I am not he alone, hee doth pursue:
“But thorow me, he meanes to shoot at you.
67
“For, thus, these great Reformers of a State“(Aspiring to attaine the Gouernment)
“Still take aduantage of the peoples hate,
“Who euer hate such as are eminent.
“(For, who can great affaires negotiat,
“And all a wayward multitude content?)
“And then these people-minions, they must fall
“To worke-out vs, to work themselues int'all.
68
“But note, my Lord, first, who is in your hand;“Then, how he hath offended, what's his end:
“It is the man, whose Race would seeme to stand
“Before your Right, and doth a Right pretend:
“Who (Traitor-like) hath rais'd a mightie Band,
“With colour, your proceedings to amend.
“Which if it should haue hapned to succeed,
“You had not now sate to adiudge his deed.
240
69
“If oftentimes the person, not th'offence,“Haue beene sufficient cause of death to some,
“Where publique safety puts in euidence
“Of mischiefe, likely by their life to come;
“Shall hee, whose fortune, and his insolence,
“Haue both deserv'd to die, escape that doome;
“When you shall saue your Land, your Crowne thereby;
“And since You cannot liue, vnlesse He die?
70
Thus spake th'aggrieued Duke, that grauely sawTh'incompatible powers of Princes mindes;
And what affliction his escape might draw
Vnto the State, and people of all kindes:
And yet the humble yeelding, and the aw,
Which Yorke there shew'd, so good opinion findes,
That (with the rumor of his Sonnes great strength,
And French affaires) he there came quit at length.
71
For, euen the feare t'exasperat the heatOf th'Earle of March, whose forward youth and might
Well follow'd, seem'd a proud reuenge to threat,
If any shame should on his Father light:
And then desire in Gascoyne to reget
The glorie lost, which home-broyles hinder might,
Aduantaged the Duke, and sav'd his head;
Which, questionlesse, had else beene hazarded.
241
72
For, now had Burdeux offered (vpon ayd)Present reuolt, if we would send with speed.
Which faire aduantage to haue then delay'd,
Vpon such hopes, had beene a shamefull deed.
And therefore this, all other courses stayd,
And outwardly these inward hates agreed;
Giuing an interpause to pride and spight:
Which breath'd, but to breake-out with greater might.
73
Whil'st dreadfull Talbot, terror late of Fraunce,(Against the Genius of our Fortune) stroue,
The downe-throwne glorie of our State t'aduance;
Where Fraunce far more then Fraunce he now doth proue:
For, friends, opinion, and succeeding chaunce
(Which wrought the weake to yeeld, the strong to loue)
Were not the same, that he had found before
In happier times; when lesse would haue done more.
74
For, both the Britaine, and Burgonian now,Came altred with our lucke, and won with theirs
(Those bridges, and the gates, that did allow
So easie passage vnto our affaires)
Iudging it safer to endeuour how
To link with strength, then leane vnto despaires.
242
“In Lands far off, gets not, although he wins.
75
Which too well prov'd this fatall enterprize,The last, that lost vs all wee had to lose.
Where, though aduantag'd by some mutinies,
And pettie Lords, that in our Cause arose:
Yet those great fayl'd; whose ready quick supplies,
Euer at hand, cheer'd vs, and quail'd our foes.
Succours from far, come seldome to our minde.
“For, who holds league with Neptune, and the winde?
76
Yet, worthy Talbot, thou didst so imployThe broken remnants of discattered power,
That they might see it was our destiny,
Not want of spirit, that lost vs what was our:
Thy dying hand sold them the victorie
With so deare wounds, as made the conquest sowre:
So much it cost to spoyle who were vndon;
And such adoe to win, when they had won.
77
For, as a fierce courageous Mastiue fares;That, hauing once sure fast'ned on his foe,
Lyes tugging on that hold, neuer forbeares,
What force soeuer force him to forgo:
The more he feeles his woundes, the more he dares;
As if his death were sweet, in dying so:
243
And scarce, but with much blood, lets goe in death.
78
For, though he saw prepar'd, against his side,Both vnlike fortune, and vnequall force,
Borne with the swelling current of their pride
Downe the maine streame of a most happy course:
Yet standes he stiffe, vndasht, vnterrifi'd;
His minde the same, although his fortune worse:
Virtue in greatest dangers being best showne;
And though opprest, yet neuer ouer-throwne.
79
For, rescuing of besieg'd Chatillion(Where hauing first constraind the French to fly,
And following hard on their confusion)
Comes (lo) incountred with a strong supply
Of fresh-arriuing powers, that backe thrust-on
Those flying troupes, another chaunce to trie:
Who, double arm'd, with shame, and fury, straine
To wreake their foyle, and win their fame againe.
80
Which seeing, th'vndaunted Talbot (with more mightOf spirit to will, then hands of power to do)
Preparing t'entertaine a glorious fight,
Cheeres-vp his wearied Souldiers thereunto.
“Courage, sayth hee: those brauing troupes, in sight,
“Are but the same, that now you did vndo.
“And what if there be come some more then they?
“They come to bring more glory to the day.
244
81
“Which day must either thrust vs out of all;“Or all, with greater glorie, backe restore.
“This day, your valiant worth aduenture shall,
“For what our Land shall neuer fight for, more.
“If now we faile, with vs is like to fall
“All that renowne which we haue got before.
“This is the last: if we discharge the same,
“The same shall last to our eternall fame.
82
“Neuer had worthy men, for any fact,“A more faire glorious Theater, then we;
“Whereon true Magnanimitie might act
“Braue deedes, which better witnessèd could be.
“For, lo, from yonder Turrets, yet vnsackt,
“Your valliant fellowes stand, your worth to see,
“T'auouch your valour, if you liue to gaine;
“And if we die, that we di'd not in vaine.
83
“And euen our foes (whose proud and powreful might“Would seeme to swallow vp our dignitie)
“Shall not keep-backe the glory of our right;
“Which their confounded blood shall testifie:
“For, in their wounds, our goarie swords shall write
“The monumentes of our eternitie:
“For, vile is honor, and a title vaine,
“The which, true worth and danger do not gaine.
245
84
“For, they shall see, when we (in carelesse sort)“Shall throwe our selues on their despised speares,
“Tis not despaire, that doth vs so transport:
“But euen true Fortitude, that nothing feares;
“Sith we may well retire vs, in some sort:
“But, shame on him that such a foul thought beares.
“For, be they more, let Fortune take their part,
“Wee'll tugge her too, and scratch her, ere we part.
85
This sayd; a fresh infus'd desire of fameEnters their warmed blood, with such a will,
That they deem'd long, they were not at the game;
And, though they marcht apace, thought they stood still,
And that their lingring foes too slowely came
To ioyne with them, spending much time but ill:
Such force had wordes, fierce humors vp to call,
Sent from the mouth of such a Generall.
86
Who yet, his forces weighing (with their fire)Turnes him about, in priuate, to his Sonne
(A worthy Sonne, and worthy such a Sire)
And telleth him, what ground hee stood vpon,
Aduising him in secret to retire;
Considering how his youth, but now begun,
Would make it vnto him, at all, no staine:
His death small fame, his flight no shame could gaine.
246
87
To whom, th'aggrieued Sonne (as if disgrac't)“Ah Father, haue you then selected me
“To be the man, whom you would haue displac't
“Out of the roule of Immortalitie?
“What haue I done this day, that hath defac't
“My worth, that my hands worke despis'd should be?
“God shield, I should beare home a Cowards name,
“He long enough hath liv'd, who dyes with fame.
88
At which, the Father, toucht with sorrowing-ioy,Turnd him about (shaking his head) and sayes;
“O my deare Sonne, worthy a better day,
“To enter thy first youth, in hard assayes.
And now had Wrath, impatient of delay,
Begun the fight, and farther speeches stayes:
Furie thrustes on; striuing, whose sword should be
First warmed, in the wounds of th'enemie.
89
Hotly, these small but mightie-minded, Bands(As if ambitious now of death) doe straine
Against innumerable armed hands,
And gloriously a wondrous fight maintaine;
Rushing on all what-euer strength withstands,
Whetting their wrath on blood, and on disdaine:
And so far thrust, that hard 'twere to descry
Whether they more desire to kill, or dye.
247
90
Frank of their owne, greedy of others blood,No stroke they giue, but wounds, no wound, but kills:
Neere to their hate, close to their work they stood,
Hit where they would, their hand obeyes their wills;
Scorning the blowe from far, that doth no good,
Loathing the cracke, vnlesse some blood it spils:
No wounds could let-out life that wrath held in,
Till others wounds, reueng'd, did first begin.
91
So much, true resolution wrought in thoseWho had made couenant with death before,
That their smal number (scorning so great foes)
Made Fraunce most happie, that there were no more;
And Fortune doubt to whom she might dispose
That weary day; or vnto whom restore
The glory of a Conquest dearely bought;
Which scarce the Conqueror could thinke well got.
92
For, as with equall rage, and equall might,Two aduerse windes combat, with billowes proud,
And neither yeeld; Seas, skies maintaine like fight,
Waue against waue oppos'd, and clowd to clowd:
So warre both sides, with obstinate despight,
With like reuenge, and neither partie bow'd;
Fronting each other with confounding blowes,
No wound, one sword, vnto the other owes:
248
93
Whil'st Talbot (whose fresh ardor hauing gotA meruailous aduantage of his yeares)
Carries his vnfelt age, as if forgot,
Whirling about, where any need appeares:
His hand, his eye, his wits all present, wrought
The function of the glorious Part he beares:
Now vrging here, now cheering there, he flyes,
Vnlockes the thickest troups, where most force lyes.
94
In midst of wrath, of wounds, of blood, and death,There is he most, where as he may do best:
And there the closest ranks hee seuereth,
Driues-back the stoutest powres, that forward prest:
There makes his sword his way: there laboreth
Th'infatigable hand that neuer ceast;
Scorning, vnto his mortall wounds to yeeld;
Till Death became best maister of the Field.
95
Then like a sturdy Oke, that hauing long,Against the warres of fiercest windes, made head
When (with some forc't tempestuous rage, more strong)
His down-borne top comes ouer-maistered,
All the neere bordering Trees (hee stood among)
Crusht with his waightie fall, lie ruined:
So lay his spoyles, all round about him slaine,
T'adorne his death, that could not die in vaine.
249
96
On th'other part, his most all-daring sonne(Although the inexperience of his yeares
Made him lesse skil'd in what was to be done;
And yet did carrie him beyond all feares)
Into the maine Battalion, thrusting on
Neere to the King, amidst the chiefest Peeres,
With thousand wounds, became at length opprest;
As if he scorn'd to die, but with the best.
97
Who thus both, hauing gaind a glorious end,Soone ended that great day; that set so red,
As all the purple Plaines, that wide extend,
A sad tempestuous season witnessed.
So much adoe had toyling Fraunce to rend,
From vs, the right so long inherited:
And so hard went we from what we possest;
As with it went the blood wee loued best.
98
Which blood, not lost, but fast lay'd vp with heedIn euerlasting fame, is there held deere,
To seale the memorie of this dayes deed;
Th'eternall euidence of what we were:
To which, our Fathers, wee, and who succeed,
Doe owe a sigh, for that it toucht vs neere:
Nor must we sinne so much, as to neglect
The holy thought of such a deare respect.
250
99
Yet happy-hapless day, blest ill-lost breath,Both for our better fortune, and your owne!
For, what foul wounds, what spoyl, what shamefull death,
Had by this forward resolution growne,
If at S. Albons, Wakefield, Barnet-heath,
It should vnto your infamie beene showne?
Blest you, that did not teach how great a fault
Euen Virtue is, in actions that are naught.
100
Yet, would this sad dayes losse had now beene all,That this day lost: then should we not much plaine,
If hereby we had com'n but there to fall;
And that day, ended, ended had our paine:
Then small the losse of Fraunce, of Guien small;
Nothing the shame to be turn'd home againe
Compar'd with other shames. But now, Fraunce, lost,
Sheds vs more blood, then all her winning cost.
101
For losing warre abroad, at home lost peace;Be'ing with our vnsupporting selues close pent;
And no dessignes for pride (that did increase)
But our owne throats, and our owne punishment;
The working spirit ceast not, though work did cease,
Hauing fit time to practise discontent,
251
“Who, not imploy'd to good, must needes do ill.
102
And now this griefe of our receiued shame,Gaue fit occasion, for ambitious care,
To draw the chiefe reproche of all the same
On such as obuious vnto hatred are,
Th'especiall men of State: who, all the blame
Of whatsoeuer Fortune doth, must beare.
For, still, in vulgar eares delight it breeds,
To haue the hated, authors of misdeeds.
103
And therefore, easily, great Sommerset(Whom Enuie long had singled out before)
With all the vollie of disgraces met,
As th'onely marke that Fortune plac't therfore:
On whose ill-wrought opinion, Spight did whet
The edge of Wrath, to make it pearce the more:
And Grief was glad t'haue gotten now on whom
To lay the fault of what must light on some.
104
Whereon, th'againe out-breaking Yorke beginnesTo build new modules of his old desire.
And se'ing the booty Fortune for him winnes,
Vpon the ground of this inkindled ire,
252
To ayde his owne, and help him to aspire:
For, doubting, peace should better scanne deeds past,
He thinkes not safe, to haue his sword out, last:
105
Especially, since euery man (now prestTo innouation) doe with rancor swell:
A stirring humor gen'rally possest
Those peace-spilt times, weary of beeing well:
The weake with wrongs, the happy tyr'd with rest,
And many mad, for what, they could not tell:
The World, euen great with Change, thought it vvent wrong
To stay beyond the bearing-time, so long.
106
And therefore now these Lords confedered(Beeing much increast in number and in spight)
So shap't their course, that gathering to a head,
They grew to be of formidable might:
The'abused world, so hastily is led
(Some for reuenge, some for wealth, some for delight)
253
A world of men, to venture in his Cause.
107
Like as proud Seuerne, from a priuat head,With humble streames at first, doth gently glide,
Till other Riuers haue contributed
The springing riches of their store beside;
Where-with at length high-swelling, she doth spread,
Her broad-distended waters, lay'd so wide,
That comming to the Sea, shee seemes, from farre,
Not to haue tribute brought, but rather warre:
108
Euen so is Yorke now growne, and now is bentT'incounter with the best, and for the best.
Whose neere approach the King hastes to preuent,
With hope, farre off to haue his power supprest;
Fearing the Cittie, least some insolent,
And mutinous, should harten on the rest
To take his part. But hee so forward set
That at S. Albones both the Armies met.
109
Where-to, their haste farre fewer hands did bring,Then else their better leysure would haue done:
And yet too many for so foul a thing;
Sith who did best, hath but dishonour won:
254
Warwicks too forward hand hath Warre begon;
A warre, that doth the face of Warre deforme:
Which still is foul; but foulest, wanting forme.
110
And, neuer valiant Leaders (so well knowneFor braue performed actions done before)
Did blemish their discretion and renowne
In any weake effected seruice more;
Bringing such powres into so straight a Towne,
As to some Citty-tumult or vp-rore:
Which, slaughter, and no battaile, might be thought;
Sith that side vs'd their swords, and this their throat.
111
But this, on th'error of the King, is lai'd,And vpon Sommersets desire t'obtaine
255
Then wisedome would, aduent'ring for the Maine:
Whose force, in narrow streets once ouer-laid,
Neuer recouerd head: but euen there slaine
The Duke and all the greatest Leaders are;
The King himselfe beeing taken prisoner.
112
Yet not a prisoner to the outward eye,For-that he must seeme grac't with his lost day;
All things beeing done for his commoditie,
Against such men as did the State betray:
For, with such apt deceiuing clemencie
And seeming-order, Yorke did so allay
That touch of wrong, as made him make great stealth
In weaker minds, with shew of Common-wealth.
113
Long-lookt-for powre thus got into his hand,The former face of Court doth new appeare:
And all th'especiall Charges of Commaund,
To his partakers distributed were:
Himselfe is made Protector of the Land.
A title found, which couertly did beare
All-working powre vnder another stile;
And yet the soueraigne Part doth act the while.
256
114
The King held onely but an emptie name,Left, with his life: whereof the proofe was such,
As sharpest pride could not transpearce the same,
Nor all-desiring greedinesse durst touch:
Impietie had not inlarg'd their shame
As yet so wide, as to attempt so much:
Mischiefe was not full ripe, for such foul deedes;
Left, for th'vnbounded malice that succeedes.
The end of the Sixt Booke.
257
THE SEVENTH BOOKE.
THE ARGVMENT.
The King's repriz'd: Yorke, and his side retires;And making head againe, is put to flight:
Returnes into the Land, his right requires:
Hauing regain'd the King, confirmes his right:
And, whil'st his rash improuidence aspires,
Is slaine at Wakefield, by Q. Mar'grets might:
Who, at S. Albones, backe her Lord regaines;
Is forc't frō thence: & March the Crowne attaines.
1
Disordinate Authoritie, thus gaind,Knew not at first, or durst not to proceed
With an out-breaking course; but stood restraind
Within the compasse of respectiue heed:
258
That mounting will, from making too much speed:
For, though he held the powre he longd to win,
Yet had not all the keyes to let him in.
2
The Queene abroad, with a reuenging hand(Arm'd with her owne disgrace, and others spight,
Gath'ring th'oppressed partie of the Land)
Held ouer him the threatning sword of might;
That forc't him, in the tearmes of awe, to stand
(Who else had burst-vp Right, to come t'his right)
And kept him so confus'd, that he knew not
To make vse of the meanes, which he had got.
3
For, either by his fearing to restraineThe person of the King; or by neglect
Of guarding him with a sufficient traine,
The watchfull Queene, with cunning, doth effect
A practice that recouers him againe
(As one that with best care could him protect:)
And h'is conuaid to Couentry, to those
Who well knew how of Maiestie dispose.
259
4
Though this weake King had blunted thus beforeThe edge of powre, with so dull clemencie,
And left him nothing else was gracious, more
Then euen the title of his Sov'raigntie;
Yet is that title of so precious store,
As it makes, golden, leaden Maiestie:
And where, or how-soeuer it doth sit,
Is sure t'haue the world attend on it.
5
Whether it be, that Forme, and Eminence,Adorn'd with Pomp and State, begets this awe:
Or, whether an in-bred obedience
To Right and Powre, doth our affections drawe:
Or, whether sacred Kings worke reuerence,
And make that Nature now, which was first Law,
We know not: but, the Head will draw the Parts;
And good Kings, with our bodies, haue our harts.
6
For, lo, no sooner was his person ioyn'dWith this distracted body of his friends;
But, straight the Duke, and all that faction find,
They lost the onely Engin for their ends:
Authoritie, with Maiestie combin'd,
Stands bent vpon them now, and powrefull sends
Them summons to appeare, who lately held
That powre themselues, and could not be compeld.
260
7
Where-with confus'd, as either not prepar'dFor all euents; or se'ing the times not fit;
Or mens affections, failing in regard;
Or their owne forces, not of powre as yet:
They all retire them home; and neither dar'd
T'appeare, or to stand-out to answere it:
This vnfore-thought-on accident, confounds
All their dessignes, and frustrates all their grounds:
8
As vsually it fares, with those that plotThese machines of Ambition, and high pride;
Who (in their chiefest counsels ouer-shot)
For all things saue what serue the turne, prouide;
Whil'st that, which most imports, rests most forgot,
Or waigh'd not, or contemn'd, or vndescri'd;
That some-thing may be euer ouer-gone,
Where courses shall be crost, and men vndone.
9
Yorke into Wales, Warwicke to Calais hies,Some to the North, others to other parts;
As if they ran both from their dignities,
And also from themselues, and their owne harts:
261
“To th'ill at hand, onely it selfe conuerts)
That none would thinke, Yorkes hopes, being so neere dry,
Could euer flowe againe, and swell so hie.
10
And yet, for all this ebbing, Chance remaines,The spring that feedes that hope (which leaues men last):
Whom no'affliction so entire restraines,
But that it may remount, as in times past:
Though he had lost his place, his powre, his paines;
Yet held his loue, his friends, his title fast:
The whole frame of that fortune could not faile;
As that, which hung by more then by one naile.
11
Else might we thinke, what errour had it bin,These parts thus sev'red, not t'haue quite destroy'd;
But that they saw it not the way to win.
Some more dependances there were beside:
262
That their true Counsells come not right descri'd;
Which, our presumptuous wits must not condem:
They be'ing not ignorant; but we, of them.
12
For, heere, we looke vpon another Crown,An other image of Nobilitie,
(Which ciuile Discord had not yet brought down
Vnto a lower range of dignity);
Vpon a Powre as yet not ouer-flowne
With th'Ocean of all-drowning Sov'raintie.
These Lords, who thus against their Kings draw swords,
Taught Kings to come, how to be more then Lords.
13
Which well this Queene observ'd; and therefore soughtTo draw them in, and ruine them with Peace;
Whom Force (she saw) more dangerous had wrought,
And did their powre and malice but increase:
And therefore, to the Citty hauing got,
A Counsell was convok't, all iarres to cease:
263
As if to doe, rather then suffer wrong.
14
Here Scottish border broyles, and feares of Fraunce,Vrg'd with the present times necessity,
Brought forth a suttle-shadowed countenance
Of quiet peace, resembling Amitie;
Wrapt in a strong and curious ordinaunce,
Of many Articles, bound solemnly:
As if those Gordian knots could be so ti'd,
As no impatient sword could them diuide:
15
Especially, whereas the selfe same endsConcur not in a point of like respect;
But that each party couertly intends
Thereby their owne designments to effect:
Which Peace, with more indangering wounds, offends,
Then Warre can doe; that stands vpon suspect,
And neuer can be ty'd with other chaine,
Then intermutuall benefite and gaine.
16
As well by this concluded Act is seene:Which had no power to holde-in minds, out-bent;
But quickly was dissolv'd and canceld cleene,
Either by Warwicks fortune or intent.
How euer vrg'd, the Seruants of the Queene
Assaulted his, as he from Counsell went:
Where, his owne person, egerly pursu'd,
Hardly (by Boate) escap't the multitude.
264
17
Which deed, most heynous made, and vrg'd as his,The Queene (who soone th'aduantage apprehends)
Thought forthwith t'haue committed him on this:
But, he preuents, flyes North-ward to his friends,
Shewes them his danger, and what hope there is
In her, that all their ouerthrowes intends;
“And that these drifts, th'effects of this Peace are:
“Which giues more deadly wounding blowes, then war.
18
Strooke with his heate, began the others fire(Kindled with danger, and disdaine) t'inflame:
Which hauing well prepar'd, to his desire,
He leaues the farther growing of the same,
And vnto Calais (to his strong retire)
With speed betakes him, to preuent the fame
Of his impos'd offence; least, in disgrace,
He might be dispossessed of that place.
19
Yorke straight aduis'd the Earle of Salsbury,T'addresse him to the King: and therevpon,
With other grieuances, to signifie
Th'iniurious act committed on his Sonne;
And there, to vrge the breach of th'Amitie,
By these sinister plots to be begun:
But, he so strongly goes, as men might ghesse,
He purpos'd not to craue, but make redresse.
265
20
Whom, the Lord Audly, hasting to restraine,(Sent, with ten thousand men, well furnished)
Encountred on Blore-heath; where he is slaine,
And all his powre and force discomfited:
Which chaunce, so opened and let-out againe
The hopes of Yorke (whom Peace had fettered)
That he resolues, what-euer should befall,
To set vp's Rest, to venture now for all.
21
Fury, vnti'd, and broken out of bands,Runnes desp'rate presently to either head:
Faction and Warre (that neuer wanted hands
For Bloud and Mischiefe) soone were furnished:
Affection findes a side: and out it stands;
Not by the Cause, but by her int'rest led:
And many, vrging Warre, most forward are;
“Not that 't is iust, but only that 'tis Warre.
22
Whereby, the Duke is growne t'a mighty headIn Shropshire, with his Welsh and Northren ayde:
To whom came Warwicke, hauing ordered
His charge at Calais; and with him conuay'd
Many braue Leaders, that aduentured
Their fortunes on the side that he had lay'd:
Whereof as chiefe, Trollop and Blunt excell'd:
But, Trollop fayld his friends; Blunt faithfull held.
266
23
The King (prouok't these mischiefes to preuent,Follow'd with Sommerset and Excester)
Strongly appointed, all his forces bent,
Their malice to correct or to deterre:
And, drawing neere, a reuerent Prelate sent
To proffer pardon, if they would referre
Their Cause to Peace; as being a cleaner course
Vnto their ends, then this foule barb'rous force.
24
“For, what a warre, sayd he, is here begun,“Where euen the victory is held accurst?
“And who-so winnes, it will be so ill won,
“That though he haue the best, he speeds the worst.
“For, here your making, is, to be vndon;
“Seeking t'obtaine the State, you lose it first:
“Both sides being one, the bloud consum'd all one;
“To make it yours, you worke to haue it none.
25
“Leaue then with this, though this be yet a staine“T'attempt this sinne, to be so neere a fall.
“The doubtfull Dye of warre, cast at the Maine,
“Is such, as one bad chaunce may lose you all.
“A certaine sinne, seekes an vncertaine gaine:
“Which, got, your selues euen wayle and pitty shall.
“No way, but Peace, leades out from blood and feares;
“To free your selues, the Land, and vs, from teares.
267
26
Whereto the discontented part replyes;“That they, hereto by others wrongs inforc't,
“Had no way else but these extremities,
“And worst meanes of redresse, t'auoide the worst.
“For, since that peace did but their spoyles deuise,
“And held them out from grace (as men diuorc't
“From th'honors, that their fortunes did afford)
“Better die with the sword, then by the sword.
27
“For, if pacts, vowes, or oaths, could haue done ought,“There had enough been done: but, to no end
“Saue to their ruine, who had ever sought
“To auoide these broyls, as grieuing to contend;
“Smothring disgraces, drawing to parts remote,
“As exil'd men: where now they were, to attend
“His Grace with all respect, and reuerence;
“Not with the sword of malice, but defence.
28
Whereby, they shewed, that words were not to win:But yet the Pardon works so feelingly,
That to the King, that very night, came-in
Sir Andrew Trollop, with some company,
Contented to redeeme his sinne with sinne;
Disloyalty, with infidelitie:
And, by this meanes, became discouered quite
All th'orders of th'intended next dayes fight.
268
29
Which so much wrought vpon their weakened feares,That presently their Campe brake vp, ere day;
And euery man with all his speed prepares,
According to their course, to shift their way.
Yorke, with his youngest Sonne, tow'ards Ireland beares;
Warwicke to Calais, where his safety lay;
To that sure harbor of conspiracie,
Enuies Retreit, Rebellions nursery.
30
Which fatall place, seemes that with either handIs made t'offend. For, Fraunce sh'afflicts with th'one:
And with the other, did infest this Land;
As if ordained to doe good to none:
But, as a Gate to both our ills did stand,
To let-out plagues on vs, and int'her owne:
A part without vs, that small good hath bin
But to keepe, lesse intire, the whole within.
31
And there, as in their all and best support,Is Warwicke got, with March and Salsbury;
When all the Gates of England, euery Port
And Shore close-shut, debarres their reentry;
Lockt out from all; and all left in that sort,
As no meanes seemes can ayde their misery.
This wound, giuen without blowe, weakens them more,
Then all their losse of blood had done before.
269
32
For, now againe vpon them frowninglyStands Powre with Fortune, trampling on their States;
And brands them with the markes of Infamy;
Rebellions, Treasons, and Assassinats;
Attaints their Bloud, in all Posteritie;
Ransacks their Lands, spoiles their Confederats;
And layes so hideous colours on their crimes,
As would haue terrified more timorous times.
33
But, heere could doe no good: for why? this Age,Being in a course of motion, could not rest,
Vntill the reuolution of their rage
Came to that poynt, whereto it was addrest.
Misfortune, crosses, ruine, could not swage
That heate of hope, or of reuenge, at least.
“The World, once set a-worke, cannot soone cease:
“Nor euer is the same, it is in peace.
34
For, other motions, other int'rests heere,The acting spirits vp and awake doe keepe:
“Faith, friendship, honour is more sure, more deere,
“And more it selfe, then when it is asleepe:
Worth will stand-out, and doth no shadowes feare:
Disgraces make impressions far more deepe;
270
Lyes still, beares all, content to be opprest.
35
Yorke, and his side, could not, while life remain'd,Though thus disperst, but worke and interdeale:
Nor any sword, at home, could keepe restrain'd
Th'out-breaking powres of this innated zeale.
This humor had so large a passage gain'd,
On th'inward body of the Common-weale;
That 'twas impossible to stop, by force,
This current of affection's violent course.
36
Yet they at home (disorder to keepe forth)Did all what powre could doe, or wit inuent;
Plac't, in th'auoided roomes, men of great worth;
Young Sommerset, with strength to Calais sent;
Northumberland and Clifford to the North;
(Whereof They onely had the gouernment)
Defend all landings, barre all passages,
Striue to redresse the publique grieuances:
37
And, to this end, summon a Parlement:Wherein, when-as the godly King would not,
271
The Queene in griefe (and in her passions hot)
Breakes out in speech, louingly violent:
“And what (saith shee) my Lord, haue you forgot
“To rule and be a King? Why will you thus
“Be milde to them, and cruell vnto vs?
38
“What good haue you procur'd by clemencie,“But giuen to wilde presumption much more head?
“And now what cure, what other remedie
“Can to our desp'rat wounds be ministred?
“Men are not good, but for necessitie;
“Nor orderly are euer borne, but bred.
“Sad want, and pouertie, makes men industrious:
“But, Law must make them good, and feare obsequious.
39
“My Lord; Hee gouerns well, that's well obayd:“And temp'rat Rigour euer safely sits.
“For, as to him, who Cotis did vpbraid,
“And call'd his rigor, madnesse, raging fits;
“Content thee, thou vnskilfull man, he said,
“My madnesse keepes my Subiects in their wits:
“So, to like course my Lord, y'are forc't to fall;
“Or else you must, in th'end, vndoe vs all.
40
“Looke but, I pray, on this deare part of you;“This branch (sprung frō your blood) your owne aspect:
“Looke on this Childe, and think what shal ensue
“To this faire hope of ours, by your neglect.
“Though you respect not vs, wrong not his due,
272
“The right of the renowned Lancasters,
“His fathers fathers, and great grand-fathers.
41
“Then turnes t'her sonne: O sonne! dost thou not see?“He is not mov'd, nor toucht, nor weighes our teares.
“What shall I doe? What hope is left for me,
“When he wants will to help, & thou wantst yeares?
“Could yet these hands of thine but partners bee
“In these my labours, to keep-out our feares,
“How well were I? that now alone must toile,
“And turne, and tosse; and yet vndone the while.
42
“I knowe, if thou could'st helpe, thy mother thus“Should not beyond her strength endure so much;
“Nor these proud Rebels, that would ruine vs,
“Scape with their hainous treasons, without touch:
“I knowe, thou would'st conceiue how dangerous
“Mercy were vnto those, whose hopes are such;
“And not preserue, whom Law hath ouer-throwne,
“Sauing their liuely-hood, to lose our owne.
43
“But, sith thou canst not, nor I able am,“Thou must no more expect of me, deare Son;
“Nor yet, in time to come, thy Mother blame,
“If thou, by others weakenesse be vndon.
“The world, with me, must testifie the same,
“That I haue done my best, what could be done;
273
“The duetie of a mother and a wife.
44
“But well; I see which way the world will goe:“And let it goe: and so turnes her about,
Full, with stout griefe, and with disdainefull woe;
Which, now, her words shut-vp, her lookes let-out.
The cast of her side-bended eye, did showe
Both sorrow and reproofe; se'ing so great doubt,
And no powre to redresse, but stand and vex,
Imprisoned in the fetters of her sex.
45
Yet, so much wrought these mouing arguments(Drawne from that blood, where Nature vrg'd her Right)
As his all-vpward tending zeale relents;
And, downeward to his State, declines his sight:
And so, to their Attainders he consents;
Prouided, He, on their submission, might
Out of his Princely powre, in his owne name,
Without a Parlement, reuoke the same.
274
46
Whil'st Sommerset with maine endeuour layTo get his giuen (but vngot) gouernment,
The stout Calisians (bent another way)
Fiercely repell him, frustrate his intent:
Yet takes he Guines, landing at VVhitsandbay:
Where-as the swordes, hee brought, would not consent
To wound his foes: the fight no rancor hath:
Malice was friends: and Warre was without wrath.
47
Though hee their hands, yet VVarwicke had their hearts:To whom, both men and shipping they betray'd;
Whilst Englands (though debarred) shore imparts,
To him, her other-where intended ayde:
For, the Lord Riuers, passing to those parts,
T'haue fresh supplies vnto the Duke conuay'd;
At Sandwich, with his Sonne accompayned,
Staying for winde, was taken in his bed.
48
Whose shipping, and prouisions, VVarwicke takesFor Ireland, with his Chieftaine to conferre:
And within thirtie dayes this voyage makes,
And backe-returnes, ere knowne to haue beene there:
So that the heauens, the sea, the winde partakes
With him; as if they of his faction were;
Or that his spirit and valour were combin'd,
With destinie, t'effect what he design'd.
275
49
Which working, though without, and on the shore,Reacht yet vnto the centre of the Land;
Searcht all those humors that were bred before;
Shakes the whole frame, whereon the State did stand;
“Affection, pittie, fortune, feare being more
“Farre off and absent, then they are at hand.
“Pittie becomes a traytor with th'opprest:
“And many haue beene rays'd, by being supprest.
50
For, they had left, although themselues were gone,Opinion and their memorie behinde.
Which so preuayles, that nought could here be done,
But straight was knowne as soone as once design'd:
Court, Councell-chamber, Closet, all were won,
To be reuealers of the Princes minde:
So false is Faction, and so smooth a lyer,
As that it neuer had a side entire.
51
Whereby, th'exil'd had leasure to preuent,And circumuent, what-euer was deuiz'd:
Which made, that Faulconbridge, to Sandwich bent,
That Fortresse and the Gouernour surpriz'd:
Who, presently from thence to Calais sent,
Had his vnguiltie blood there sacrifiz'd:
And Faulconbridge, returning backe, relates
Th'affection here, and zeale of all estates.
276
52
Drawne with which newes, and with a spirit that dar'dT'attempt on any likelihood of support;
They take th'aduantage of so great regard;
Their landing here secur'd them in such sort,
By Faulconbridge; the fatall bridge prepar'd
To be the way of blood, and to transport
Returning furie to make greater wounds
Then euer England saw within her bounds.
53
And but with fifteene hundred men do land,Vpon a Land, with many millions stor'd:
So much, did high-presuming Courage stand
On th'ayde, home-disobedience would afford.
Nor were their hopes deceiv'd: for, such a hand
Had Innouation ready for the sword,
As ere they neere vnto the Cittie drew,
Their powre beyond all former greatnesse grew.
54
Muse, what may we imagine was the CauseThat Furie workes thus vniuersally?
What humor, what affection, is it, drawes
Sides, of such powre, to this Nobilitie?
Was it their Conscience, to redresse the Lawes;
Or malice, to a wrong-plac't Sov'raintie,
That caus'd them (more then wealth, or life) desire
Destruction, ruine, bloud-shed, sword and fire?
277
55
Or was the Powre of Lords (thus inter-plac'tBetwixt the height of Princes, and the State)
Th'occasion that the people so imbrac't
Their actions, and attend on this Debate?
Or had their Greatnesse, with their Worth, imbas't
The Touch of Royaltie to so lowe rate,
As their opinion could such tumults moue?
Then Powre, and Virtue, you contagious proue.
56
And Perianders leuell'd Eares of CorneShew what is fittest for the publique Rest;
And that the hyest Minions which adorne
A Common-weale (and doo become it best)
Are Zeale and Iustice, Law, and Customes, borne
Of hye descent; that neuer do infest
The Land with false suggestions, claymes, affrights,
To make men lose their owne, for others rights.
278
57
But now, against this disproportion, bendsThe feeble King all his best industrie:
And, from abrode, Skales, Louell, Kendall, sends,
To hold the Cittie in fidelitie;
The Cittie, which before (for others ends)
Was wrought to leaue the part of Royaltie;
Where, though the Kings commaund was of no powre;
Yet worke these Lords so, that they tooke the Towre:
58
And, from thence, labour to bring-in againeThe out-let will of disobediencie;
Send terror, threates, intreaties; but in vaine:
VVarwicke, and March, are with all iollitie
And grace receiv'd. The Citties loue did gaine
The best part of a Crowne: for whose defence,
And intertaining still, stayes Salsburie,
Whil'st March, and VVarwicke other fortunes try;
59
Conducting their fresh troupes against their King(Who leaues a woman to supply his steed):
279
Made, now, the very heart of England bleed:
Where, what strange resolutions both sides bring:
And with what deadly rancour they proceed,
Witnesse the blood there shed, and fowlly shed;
That cannot, but with sighes, be registred.
60
There, Buckingham, Talbot, and Egremont,Bewmont, and Lucy; parts of Lancaster
(Parts most important, and of chiefe account)
In this vnhappy day, extinguisht are.
There, the Lord Grey, (whose fayth did not amount
Vnto the trust committed to his care)
Betrayes his King, borne to be strangely tost;
And, late againe attain'd, againe is lost.
61
Againe is lost this out-side of a King,Ordain'd for others vses, not his owne:
Who, to the part that had him, could but bring
A feeble body onely, and a Crowne;
But yet was held to be the dearest thing
Both sides did labor-for, so much; to crowne
Their Cause with the apparency of might:
From whom, and by whom, they must make their Right;
280
62
When he himselfe (as if he nought esteem'dThe highest Crowne on earth) continues one;
Weake to the world: which, his Religion deem'd
Like to the breath of man; vaine, and soone gone:
Whil'st the stout Queene, by speedy flight redeem'd
The safety of her selfe, and of her Sonne:
And, with her, Sommerset to Durham fled;
Her powres, supprest, her heart vnuanquished.
63
So much for absent Yorke, is acted here,Attending English hopes, on th'Irish coast.
Which when, vnlookt-for, they related were,
Ambition (still on horse-backe) comes in poast,
And seemes with greater glory to appeare;
As made the more, by be'ing so long time lost:
And to the Parlement with state is led,
Which his associates had fore-summoned.
64
And, com'n into the Chamber of the Peeres,He sets himselfe downe, in the chayre of State:
Where, such an vnexpected face appeares
Of an amazed Court, that gazing sate
With a dumbe silence (seeming, that it feares
The thing it went about t'effectuate)
281
Barres to the words, their forced course should haue.
65
Tis strāge, those times, which brought such hāds for blood,Had not bred tongues to make good any side;
And that no prostituted conscience stood,
Any iniustice to haue iustifi'd
(As men of the forelone hope, onely good
In desperatest acts to be imploy'd)
And that none, in th'assembly there was found,
That would t'ambitious descant giue a ground:
66
That euen himselfe (forc't of necessitie)Must be the Orator of his owne Cause.
For, hauing viewd them all, and could espie
None proffring once to speake (all, in a pause)
On this friend lookes with an inuiting eye,
And then on that (as if he woo'd applause)
Holding the cloth of State still in his hand;
The signe, which he would haue them vnderstand.
67
But se'ing none moue; with an imperiall port,Gath'ring his spirits, he ryses from his seat;
Doth, with such powre of wordes, his Cause support,
As seemes all other Causes to defeat.
“And, sure, who workes his Greatnesse in that sort,
“Must haue more powres, then those that are borne great:
“Such Reuolutions are not wrought, but when
“Those spirits doe worke, which must be more then men.
282
68
He argues first his Right, so long with-heldBy th'vsurpation of the Lancasters;
“The Right of a direct Line, alwayes held
“The sacred course of Blood; our Ancestors,
“Our Lawes, our reuerent Customes haue vp-held
“With holy hands. Whence, when disorder erres,
“What horrors, what confusion, do we see,
“Vntill it be reduc't where it should bee?
69
“And how it prospers with this wretched Land,“Witnesse the vniuersall miserie,
“Wherein (as if accurst) the Realme doth stand;
“Depriu'd of State, wealth, honor, dignitie;
“The Church, and Commons, vnderneath the hand
“Of violence, extortion, robberie;
“No face of order, no respect of Lawes:
“And thus complaynes of what himselfe is cause;
70
“Accusing others insolence, that they“Exhausted the Reuenues of the Crowne:
“So that the King was forc't onely to prey
“Vpon his Subiects, poore and wretched growne)
“And that they now sought Ireland to betray,
“And Calais to the French; which hee had knowne,
“By th'intercepted notes of their owne hand,
“Who were the onely Traytors of the Land:
283
71
“And yet procur'd th'Attaynders most vniust,“Of others guiltlesse and vnspotted blood;
“Who euermore had labour'd, in their trust
“And faithfull seruice for their Countries good:
“And who with extreame violence were thrust
“Quite out of all, spoyl'd of their liuelihood,
“Expos'd to all the miseries of life:
“Which they indur'd, to put-off blood and strife.
72
“But since (sayth he) their malice hath no ende,“But t'end vs all, and to vndo the Land:
“(For which, the hatefull French gladly attend,
“And at this instant haue their swords in hand)
“And that the God of heauen doth seeme to bend
“Vnto our Cause, whereto the best men stand;
“And that this blood of mine, so long time sought,
“Reserued seemes, for some thing to be wrought;
73
“It rests within your iudgements, to vp-right,“Or else to ruine vtterly the Land.
“For, this be sure, I must pursue my Right
“Whil'st I haue breath, or I and mine can stand.
“Thinke, whether this poore State, being in this plight,
“Stands not in need of some vp-raysing hand:
“Or whether 'tis not time we should haue rest,
“And this confusion, and our wounds redrest.
284
74
This said, he turnes aside, and out hee goes;Leaues them to counsell what was to be done.
Where, though the most part gath'red, were of those
Who with no opposition sure would run;
Yet some, more temp'rate, offred to propose
That which was fit to bee considered on:
Who, though they knew his clayme was faire, in sight;
Yet thought, it now lackt the right face of Right;
75
Since, for the space of three score yeeres, the CrowneHad beene in act possest, in three descents;
Confirm'd by all the Nobles of renowne,
The peoples suffrages, Oathes, Parlements;
So many Actes of State, both of our owne,
And of all other foraine Gouernments:
“That Wrong, by order, may grow Right by-this;
“Sith Right, th'obseruer but of Order is.
76
“And then considring, first, how Bullingbrooke,“Landing in Yorkeshire but with three score men,
“By the consent of all the Kingdome, tooke
“The Crowne vpon him, held for lawfull then;
“His Vncle Yorke and all the Peeres betooke
“Themselues to him, as to their Soueraigne; when
“King Richards wrongs, and his propinquitie,
“Did seeme to make no distance in their eye:
285
77
“Nor was without example, in those dayes:“Wherein (as in all Ages) States do take
“The side of publique Peace, to counterpayse
“The waight of wrong; which, time may rightfull make.
“No elderhood, Rufus and Henrie stayes,
“The imperiall Crowne of England t'vndertake:
“And Iohn, before his nephew Arthur, speedes;
Whom, though depriv'd, Henry his sonne succeedes.
78
Edward the third, made Sov'raigne of the State,Vpon his fathers depriuation, was:
All which, though seeming wrongs, yet fairely sate
In their succeeders, and for right did passe.
And if they could so worke, t'accommodate,
And calme the Peeres, and please the Populasse;
They wisht, the Crowne might, where it stood, remaine,
Succeeding inconuenience to restraine.
79
Thus th'auncient Fathers of the Law aduise;Graue Baron Thorpe and learned Fortescue:
Who, though they could not fashion, otherwise,
Those strong-bent humors, which auersiue grew;
Yet seem'd to qualifie th'extreamities.
And some respect more to their Sov'raine drew;
286
He should be King, and Yorke should him succeed:
80
Which, presently enacted, was (beside)Proclaym'd through-out with all solemnities;
And intermutually there ratifi'd
With protestations, vowes and oathes, likewise;
Built-vp, with all the strength of forme, t'abide
What-euer oppositions could aryse;
And might haue seem'd sure and authenticall,
Had all this bodie of the State beene all.
81
But Trent, thou keptst a part; Thames had not all:The North diuided honor, with the South:
And like powre held like Greatnes seuerall:
Where other Right, spake with another mouth;
Another Heire, another Prince they call,
Whom naturall succession follow doth;
The branch of Kings, the true sonne of the Crowne:
To whom, no father can but leaue his owne.
82
The King, as husband to the Crowne, doth byThe wiues infeoffement hold; and onely here
Inioyes the same for life, by Curtesie;
Without powre to dispose it other-where
(After his death) but as th'authoritie,
Order, and custome of Succession beare:
287
The right of him, whom it belongs vnto.
83
And this vnnaturall intrusion, here,Of that attainted Blood, out of all course,
Effected with confusion and with feare,
Must be reduc't to other tearmes, of force.
These insolencies Iustice cannot beare:
The sword (whereto they onely had recourse)
Must cut this knot, so intricately ty'd;
Whose vaine contriued ends are plaine descry'd.
84
Thus they giue-out; and out the sword in handIs drawne for blood, to iustifie the same:
And by a side, with many a Worthie, mand;
Great Sommerset, Excester, Buckingham,
With Clifford, Courtney, and Northumberland;
(Lords of as mightie courage as of name)
Which all, against Yorkes forced courses, bend;
Who, hauing done, yet had not made an end:
85
But, to another worke, is forc't to go;The last turmoyle lab'ring Ambition had:
Where Pride and Ouer-weening led him so
(For fortunes past) as made the issue sad:
For, whether safer counsell would or no,
His yet vnfurnisht troupes he desp'rat led
288
Against far mightier forces of the Queene.
86
Where, round inclos'd by Ambushments fore-lay'd,Hard-working for his life (but all in vaine)
With number and confusion ouer-lay'd,
Himselfe and valiant Salsbury are slaine:
With whome, the most and dearest blood decay'd
Of his couragious and aduenturous traine:
So short a life had those long hopes of his;
Borne not to weare the Crowne, he wrought for thus;
87
But, in the ryse of his out-springing lust,Now in the last of hope, receiv'd this fall;
Now, that his working powres so far had thrust,
That his desires had but this step to all:
When, so neere home, he seem'd past all distrust,
This vnexspected wracke doth him befall:
This successor th'inheritor fore-goes;
The play-game made of Fortune, and his foes.
88
Whose young sonne, Rutland (made the sacrificeFor others sinnes, ere he knew how to sinne)
Brought only but to see this exercise
Of blood and wounds, endes ere he did beginne:
Whose teares, whose mone, whose lamentable cryes,
Could neither mercie nor compassion winne:
289
Was not thought fit should any longer growe.
89
Which turning Chaunce, t'a long vngraced side,Brings backe their almost quayled hopes againe;
And thrust them on, to vse the present Tide
And Flowe of this occasion, to regaine
Th'inthralled Monarch, and to vndecide
The late concluded Act they held for vaine;
And mooues their Armies, new refresht with spoyle,
For more confusion, and for more turmoyle:
90
Victoriously proceeding vnwithstood,Till at S. Albones VVarwicke forc't a stand:
Where-as (to make his owne vndooing good)
The King is brought against himselfe to band:
His Powre and Crowne is set against his Blood;
Forc't on the side, not of himselfe, to stand.
Diuided King, in what a case thou art!
To haue thy hand, thus bent against thy hart.
91
And here this famous fatall place, againe,Is made the stage of blood; againe these streets,
Imbru'd with slaughter, cov'red with the slaine,
Witness what desp'rat wrath with rancor meets.
But, Fortune now is in an other vaine;
Another side her turning fauour greets:
The King, heere lately lost, is now heere won;
Still sure t'vndoe the side that he was on.
290
92
VVarwicke, with other Genius then his owne,Had heere to doe: which made him see the face
Of sad misfortune, in the selfe same Towne,
Where prosp'rous winning, lately gaue him grace:
And Marg'ret heere, this Martiall Amazon,
Was, with the spirit of her selfe, in place:
Whose labors, Fortune, euen to pittie, stir;
And, being a woman, could but giue it her.
93
The reputation and incouragementOf VVakefield glory, wakened them to this.
And this seemes now the full accomplishment
Of all their trauell, all their combrances.
For, what can more disturbe this Gouernment,
When Yorke extinct, & VVarwick conquered, is?
Directing Salsburie, left without a head,
What rests there now, that all's not finished?
94
Thus, for the sicke, preseruing Nature striuesAgainst corruption, and the loathsome Graue;
When, out of Deaths colde hands, she backe repriues
Th'almost confounded spirits, she faine would saue:
And them cheeres vp, illightens, and reuiues;
Making faint Sickenesse, words of health to haue,
With lookes of life, as if the worst were past;
When strait comes dissolution, and his last.
291
95
So fares it with this late reuiued Queene:Whose Victories, thus fortunately wonne,
Haue but as onely lightning motions beene,
Before the ruine that ensu'd thereon.
For, now another springing powre is seene;
Whereto, as to the new arysing Sunne,
All turne their faces, leauing those lowe rayes
Of setting Fortune, which no Climer waighes.
96
Now is yong March, more than a Duke of Yorke;For, youth, loue, grace and courage make him more.
All which, for Fortunes fauour, now do worke,
Who graceth freshest Actors euermore;
Making the first attempt, the chiefest worke
Of any mans designes, that striues therefore.
“The after-seasons are not so well blest.
“For, those first spirits make their first actions best.
97
Now as the Libyan Lion, when with paineThe wearie Hunter hath pursu'd his prey
From Rockes to Brakes, from Thickets to the Plaine,
And at the point, thereon his hands to lay,
Hard-by his hopes, his eye vpon his gaine,
Out-rushing from his denne rapts all away:
So comes yong March, their endes to disappoint,
Who now were growne so neere vnto the point.
98
The loue of these important southerne parts,Of Essex, Surry, Middlesex, and Kent,
292
Grew ill affected to her gouernment,
Vpon th'vnciuile and presumptuous parts,
Play'd by the Northerne troupes, growne insolent:
Whom, though she could not gouerne otherwise,
Yet th'ill that's wrought for her, vpon her lies.
99
So wretched is this execrable Warre,“This ciuile Sworde: wherein, though all wee see
“Be foul, and all things miserable are;
“Yet most distresse-full is the victorie:
“Which is, not onely th'extream ruiner
“Of others; but, her owne calamity:
“Where, who obtains, what he would cannot do:
“Their powre hath part, who holpe him thereunto.
293
100
The Citty, whose good-will they most desire,(Yet thereunto durst not commit their state)
Sends them not those prouisions they require;
Which seem'd restrained by the peoples hate:
Yet Marches help farre off, and neere this fire
(To winne them time) forc't them to mediate
A reconcilement: which, well entertain'd,
Was fairely now growen-on, and neerely gain'd:
101
When, with a thousand tongs, swift-wing'd Fame coms,And tells of Marches gallant Victories:
Who, what withstands, subdues; all ouercomes;
Making his way through fiercest enemies;
As hauing now to cast, in greater Summes,
The Reckning of his hopes, that mainly rise.
His fathers death, giues more life vnto wrath:
And vexed valour, greater courage hath.
102
And now, as for his last, his lab'ring worthWorks on the coast which on faire Seuerne lyes:
Whereto his Father (passing to the North)
Sent him, to leuie other fresh supplies:
But, hearing now what Wakefield had brought forth;
Imploring ayde against these iniuries,
294
Important powres, to worke his remedie.
103
Which he, against Pembrooke and Ormond, bends;Whom Margaret (now vpon her victory)
With all speed possible from VVakefield sends;
With hope to haue surpris'd him suddenly.
Wherin, though she all meanes, all wit extends,
To th'vtmost reach of wary policie;
Yet nothing her avayles: no plots succeed,
T'avert those mischiefes which the heauens decreed.
104
For, neere the Crosse ally'd vnto his name,He crosst those mighty forces of his foes;
And with a spirit, orday'nd for deeds of fame,
Their eager-fighting Army ouer-throwes:
Making all cleer behind, from whence he came;
Bearing-downe, wholly, what before him rose;
Like to an all-confounding Torrent seemes:
And was made more, by VVarwicks mighty streames.
295
105
With th'inundation of which Greatnesse, he(Hauing no bounds of powre to keepe him backe)
Marcht to the Citie: at whose entrance free,
No signes of ioy, nor no applaudings lacke.
Whose neere approach, when this sad Queene did see,
(T'auoyde these rocks of her neere threatning wrack)
With her griev'd troupes North-ward she hence departs;
And leaues, to Youth and Fortune, these South-parts.
106
Glory, with admiration, entring now,Opened that easie doore to his intent,
As that there needes not long time to allow
The Right he had vnto the Gouernement;
Nor Henries iniuries to disauow,
Against his oath, and th'Act of Parlement.
“For, heere the speediest way he takes t'accord
Difference in law, that pleades it with the Sword.
107
Gath'red to see his mustred Companies,Stoode all the flocking troopes of London streets;
When Faulconbridge, with gentle feeling, tries
How strong the pulse of their affection beates;
And (reckning-vp the grieuous miseries,
And desolation, which the Country threats)
Askt them, whom they would haue to be their King,
To leade those troopes, and State in forme to bring.
296
108
Whereto, with such an vniuersall showt,The Earle of March, the multitude replyes,
As the rebounding Echo streight through-out
(From Towre to Towre reuerberated) flyes
To th'eares of those great Lords, who sate about
The consultation for this enterprise.
Whose care is sav'd, which most they stood vpon:
For, what they counsell how to doe, is done.
109
And nothing now, but to confirme him king,Remaines (which must not long remaine) to do.
The present heate doth strait dispatch the thing,
With all those solemne rites that 'long thereto:
So that, what Yorke, with all his travayling,
Force and intrusion, could not get vnto,
Is now thus freely layd vpon his sonne;
Who must make faire, what fowlly was begunne.
110
Whose end, attayn'd, had it here made an endOf foule destruction, and had stay'd the bloud
297
With desp'rate hands, and deeper wounds withstood;
And that none other Crowne, brought to contend
With that of his, had made his seeme lesse good;
How had this long-afflicted Land been blest!
Our sighes had ended, and my Muse had rest.
111
Which now (but little past halfe her long way)Stands trembling at the horrors that succeed;
Weary with these embroylements, faine would stay
Her farther course, vnwilling to proceed:
And, faine to see that glorious holy-day
Of Vnion, which this discord reagreed;
Knowes not as yet, what to resolue upon;
Whether to leaue-off here, or else go-on.
The end of the seauenth Booke.
298
THE EIGHTTH BOOKE.
THE ARGVMENT.
King Edward, Powre against King Henry led;And hath at Towton-field the victory.
From whence, King Henry into Scotland fled:
Where he attempts his States recouery;
Steales into England; is discouered;
Brought Prisoner to the Towre disgracefully.
And Edward, whiles great Warwick doth assay
A Match in France, marries the Lady Grey.
1
On yet, sad Verse: though those bright starres, from whenceThou hadst thy light, are set for euermore;
And that these times do not like grace dispense
To our indeuours, as those did before:
Yet on; since She, whose beames do reincense
This sacred fire, seemes as reseru'd in store
299
Who had the first of all my labours past.
2
On (with her blessed fauour) and relate,With what new bloud-shed, this new chosen Lord
Made his first entry to th'afflicted State,
Past his first Act of publique, with the sword,
Ingor'd his new-worne Crowne, and how he gat
Possession of affliction, and restor'd
His Right vnto a Royall miserie;
Maintainèd with as bloudy dignitie.
3
Shew, how our great Pharsalian Field was foughtAt Towton in the North; the greatest day
Of ruine, that dissension euer brought
Vnto this Kingdom: where, two Crownes did sway
The worke of slaughter; two Kings Causes wrought
Destruction to one People, by the waie
Of their affections, and their loyalties;
As if one, for these ills, could not suffise.
4
Where Lancaster and that couragious side(That noble constant Part) came furnished
With such a Powre, as might haue terrifi'd
And ouer-run the earth; had they been led
300
For th'Empire of all Europe, as those did
The Macedonian led into the East;
Their number being double, at the least.
5
And where braue Yorke comes as compleatly mand,With courage, valour, and with equall might;
Prepar'd to trie with a resolued hand,
The metall of his Crown, and of his Right:
Attended with his fatall fier-brand
Of Warre, Warwicke; that blazing starre of fight,
The Comet of destruction, that portends
Confusion, and distresse, what way he tends.
6
What rage, what madness, England, do we see?That this braue people, in such multitude
Run to confound themselues, and all to be
Thus mad for Lords, and for meere Seruitude,
What might haue been, if (Roman-like, and free)
These gallant Spirits had nobler ends pursu'd,
And strayn'd to points of glory and renowme,
For good of the Republique and their owne?
7
But, here no Cato with a Senate stoodFor Common-wealth: nor here were any sought
T'emancipate the State, for publique good;
But onely, headlong, for their faction wrought.
Here, euery man runs on to spend his bloud,
To get but what he had already got.
For, whether Pompey, or a Cæsar wonne,
Their state was euer sure to be all one.
301
8
And, first, before these fatall Armies met,Had forward Warwicke lay'd the passage free,
At Berry Brigges: where the Lord Clifford (set
With an aduentrous gallant companie
To guard that streight, Yorkes farther march to let)
Began the Scene to this great Tragedie;
Made the first entrance on the Stage of blood:
Which now, set wide for wounds, all open stood.
9
When, Edward to exhort his men began,With words, whereto both spirit and Maiestie
His pers'nage gave; for-that he was a man
(Besides a King) whose Crowne sate gracefully:
Com'n is the day, sayd he, wherin who can
Obtaine the best, is Best: this day must try
Who hath the wrong, and whence our ills haue beene:
And tis our swords must make vs honest men.
10
For though our Cause, by God and men allow'd,Hath in it honor, right, and honestie:
Yet all, as nothing, is to be avow'd,
Vnless withall, we haue the victorie.
For, Iustice is (we see) a virtue proud,
And leanes to powre, and leaues weake miserie.
And therefore, seeing the case we now stand in,
We must resolue either to dy or winne.
302
11
So that if any here doth finde his heartTo fayle him, for this noble worke, or stands
Irresolute this day; let him depart,
And leaue his Armes behind, for worthier hands.
I knowe, enow will stay to doo their part,
Here to redeeme themselues, wiues, children, landes,
And haue the glory that thereby shall rise,
To free their Country from these miseries.
12
But here, what needed wordes to blowe the fireIn flame already, and inkindled so
As when it was proclaym'd, they might retire
Who found vnwillingnes to vnder-goe
That ventrous worke; they all did so conspire
To stand out Fortune, that not one would goe,
To beare away a hand from bloud; not one
Defraud the Field of th'euill might be done.
13
Where VVarwicke too (producing, in their sight,An argument, whereby he did conclude
There was no hope of safetie, but by fight)
Doth sacrifize his horse, to Fortitude:
And thereby did the least conceipt of flight,
Or any succour, by escape, exclude;
“Se'ing, in the streight of a necessitie,
“The meanes to win, is t'haue no meanes to flye.
303
14
It was vpon the twi-light of that day(That peacefull day) when the Religious beare
The Oliue-branches as they go to pray,
(And we, in lieu, the blooming Palme vse here)
When both the Armies, ready in array
For th'early sacrifize of blood, appeare
Prepar'd for mischiefe, ere they had full light
To see to doo it, and to doo it right.
15
Th'aduantage of the time, and of the winde(Which, both, with Yorke seeme as retayn'd in pay)
Braue Faulconbridge takes hold-on, and assign'd
The Archers their flight-shafts to shoote away:
Which, th'aduerse side (with sleet and dimnesse, blinde,
Mistaken in the distance of the way)
Answere with their sheafe-arrowes; that came short
Of their intended ayme, and did no hurt;
16
But, gath'red by th'on-marching Enemy,Returned were, like clowdes of steele; which powre
Destruction downe, and did new-night the sky:
As if the Day had fayl'd to keepe his howre.
Whereat, the ranged horse breake-out, deny
Obedience to the Riders, scorne their powre,
Disrank the troupes, set all in disarray,
To make th'Assaylant owner of the day.
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17
Thus, thou peculiar Ingine of our Land(Weapon of Conquest, Maister of the Field)
Renowmed Boaw (that mad'st this Crowne command
The towres of Fraunce, and all their powres to yeeld)
Art made at home to haue th'especiall hand
In our dissensions, by thy worke vp-held:
Thou first didst conquer vs; then rays'd our skill
To vanquish others; here our selues to spill.
18
And now how com'st thou to be out of date,And all neglected leav'st vs, and art gone?
And with thee, th'ancient strength, the manly state
Of valor, and of worth, that glory wonne?
Or else stay'st thou, till new-priz'd shot abate?
(That neuer shall affect what thou hast don)
And onely but attend'st some blessed Raigne,
When thou and Virtue shalt be grac't againe.
19
But, this sharp tempest draue Northumberland,(Who led the vant-guard of king Henries side)
With eger heat ioine battaile, out of hand;
And this disorder, with their swords to hide.
Where, twice fiue howres, these furious armies stand;
And Fortunes Ballance weigh'd on neither side;
Nor either did but equall bloud-shed gayne,
Till Henries chiefest leaders all were slaine.
305
20
Then, lo, those spirits, which from these heads deriueTheir motions, gaue off working; and, in haste,
Turne all their backs to Death, and mainely striue
Who from themselues shall run-away most fast.
The after-flyers on the former driue:
And they againe, by the pursuers chac't
Make bridges of their fellowes backs, to pass
The Brooks and Riuers, where-as danger was.
21
Witnes O cleare-stream'd Cock: within whose banks,So many thousand, crawling, helpless lay,
With wounds and wearinesse; who in their rankes,
Had valiantly behav'd themselues that daie:
And might haue had more honour, and more thankes
By standing to their worke, and by their stay,
“But men, at once, life seeme to loue and loath;
“Running to lose it, and to saue it both.
22
Vnhappy Henrie, from a little Hill,Plac't not far off (whence he might view the fight)
Had all th'intire full prospect of this ill,
With all the scattered slaughter, in his sight:
Saw how the victor rag'd, and spoil'd at wil,
And left not off when all was in his might:
Saw, with how great adoo himselfe was wonne;
And with what store of blood Kings are vndone.
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23
We are not worth so much, nor I, nor he,As hath beene spent for vs, by you this day,
Deare people, said he: therefore, O, agree,
And leaue off mischiefe, and your malice stay.
Stay, Edward, stay. They must a People bee,
When we shall not be Kings: and it is they,
Who make vs with their miseries. Spare them,
For whom thou thus dost seeke a Diadem.
24
For me, I could be pleas'd t'haue nought to doeWith Fortune; and content, my selfe were ill,
So England might be well; and that t'vndoe
Me, might suffice the sword, without more ill.
And yet perhaps, these men, that cleaue vnto
The parts of Princes, with such eger will,
Haue likewise their owne ends, of gaine or hate,
In these our strifes, and nourish this debate.
25
Thus stood he (drawing lines of his discourse)In contemplation; when, more needfully,
It did import him to deuise a course,
How he might shift for his recouery:
And had beene taken had not some by force,
Rescu'd, and drawne him off, more speedilie;
And brought him vnto Yorke, in all maine poste:
Where he first told his Queen, the daie was lost.
307
26
Who, as compos'd of that firme temp'ratureWhich could not bend to base complaynts, nor wayle
As weakeness doth (fore-knowing how t'indure)
Fayl'd not her selfe, though Fortune did her fayle;
But, rather casts-about how to procure
Meanes to reserue her part, and to preuaile
Of that poore time left her to saue her owne;
As one though ouer-come, not ouer-throwne:
27
Now, when she had of fatall LancasterSeene all the pillars crusht and ruined,
That vnder-set it; all that followed her
Of those heroicke personages, dead,
Saue onely Sommerset, and Excester
(Who from this last destruction hardly fled)
And saw all lost, and nothing in her might,
But onely that which must be sav'd by flight:
28
Now, when there was no North left, of their owne,To draw vnto; no side, to gather head;
No people to be rays'd, t'an emptie Crowne;
Nor yet the ground their owne, whereon they tread.
When yet your faith (worthy of all renowne)
Constant Northumbrians, firme continued:
And, though you could not render succors fit
Vnto your Sov'raigne, you would saue him yet;
308
29
And be (as few men, in this world, are) trueVnto affliction, and to miserie:
And would not basely purchace and renew
Your peace, and safetie, by disloyaltie:
But wrought, that though the Victor did pursue,
With greedy care and egre industrie,
To haue surpriz'd him; yet was all in vaine,
Till he recouered Berwicke, with his Traine.
30
Where now, he was at some more vacancieTo vnderstand, and see himselfe vndone:
Which, in this sodaine-comming misery,
He had no leasure to consider-on.
And now suruaies he that poore company,
Attending on himselfe, his wife, and sonne;
Sees how that all the State, which serv'd his Crowne,
Was shut within the walls of one small towne:
31
Beholds there, what a poore distressed thing,A King without a people was; and whence
The glory of that Mightinesse doth spring
That ouer-spreds (with such a reuerence)
This vnder-world: whence comes this furnishing
And all this splendor of Magnificence:
He sees, what chayre so-euer Monarch sate
Vpon, on Earth, the People was the State.
309
32
And yet, although he did contayne no moreThen what he saw; yet saw a peece so small
Could not containe him. What he was before,
Made him vncapable of any wall,
To yeeld him succour now; he must haue more,
Then onely this small Holde, or none at all.
And therefore, this (se'ing it auayl'd him not,
Nor could he keepe) he renders to the Scot;
33
As th'Earnest, to confirme and ratifieThe league betweene them two, newly begun:
Whereof to make more sure and faster tye,
He promist, too, th'alliance of his sonne:
And all that might secure their amity,
With willingnesse, on either side was done.
And heere they practise, all they can deuise,
To turne reuenge vpon their Enemyes.
34
Thus, England, didst thou see the mightiest KingThou euer hadst (in Power and Maiesty
Of State, and of Dominions; gouerning
A most magnificent Nobility;
With an aduent'rous people, flourishing
In all the glories of felicitie)
Chac't from his kingdom, forc't to seeke redresse
In parts remote, distrest and succourlesse.
310
35
Now Bullingbrook, these miseries, heere showne,Doo much vnlode thy sinne; make thy ill, good.
For, if thou didst by wrong, attaine the Crowne,
T'was without cryes; it cost but little bloud:
But, Yorke, by his attempt hath ouer-throwne
All the best glorie wherein England stood;
And did his state by her vndooing winne:
And was, though white without, yet red within.
36
And thus he hath it; and is now to dealeFor th'intertaining and continuance
Of mens affections; and to seeke to heale
Those foul corruptions, which the maintenance
Of so long wars bred in the Common-weale.
He must remunerate, prefer, aduance,
His chiefest friendes; and prosecute with might,
The aduerse part; doo wrong, to doo men right:
37
Whilst Martiall Margaret, with her hopefull Sonne,Is trauailing in France to purchase ayde;
And plots, and toiles, and nothing leaues vndone;
Though all in vaine. For, being thus ouer-lay'd
By Fortune and the Time, all that is done
Is out of season. For she must haue stay'd
Till that first heate of mens affections (which
They beare new Kings) were laid, and not so much.
311
38
When they should finde, that they had gayn'd no more,Then th'Asse, by changing of his Maisters, did;
(Who still must labour as he vs'd before)
And those expectancies came frustrated,
Which they had set vpon th'imagin'd score,
Of their accounts; and had considered,
How that it did but little benefite
The Doues; To change the Falcon, for the Kite.
39
And yet braue Queene, for three yeares of his Raigne,Thou gau'st him little breathing time of rest;
But still his miseries didst entertaine
With new attempts, and new assaults addrest:
And, at thy now-returne from France againe,
(Suppli'd with forces) once more gatheredst
An Army for the Field, and brought'st, to warre,
The scattered parts of broken Lancaster.
40
And once againe, at Exham, ledst them onWith Scots, and French t'another bloody day;
And there beheldst thy selfe againe vndone,
With all that Rest, whereon thy fortunes lay.
Where, Somerset (late to King Edward gone,
And got his pardon) hauing scap't away,
312
Vnto thy side, whereto they first had stood.
41
Where, the Lords, Molines, Rosse, and Hungerford,With many else of noble Families,
Extinguisht were; and many that daies sword
Cut-off their names, in their posterities.
Where fled, againe, their lucklesse followed Lord;
And is so neere pursu'd by th'enemies,
As th'Ensigne of his Crowne was seiz'd vpon,
For him who had before his Kingdome wonne;
42
And shortly after, too, his person gat.For he, now wearied with his long exile,
And miseries abrode, grew passionate,
With longing to returne t'his natiue soyle.
And se'ing he could not do the same, in State;
He seekes, disguis'd in fashion, to beguile
The world a time, and steale the libertie
And sight of his deare Country, priuately:
43
As if there were, for a pursued King,A couert left on earth, wherein to hide;
When Powre and Iealousie are trauailing,
And lay to catch affliction, on each side.
Misfortune serues, we see, for euery thing,
And soon he comes, God knows, to be descry'd:
313
For whose establishment, all things conspir'd.
44
Yet, long it was not, ere a fire beganTo take, in th'inwardst Closet, where he lay'd
The treasure of his chiefest trust; and ran
From thence, through al his State, before it staid.
For, be'ing a King, who his whole fortunes wan
With others handes, must many leaue vnpay'd:
And could not fill vp that vast greedinesse
Of Expectation, which is bottomlesse:
45
Though he did all the best that in him lay(As a most actiue Prince) to satisfie
The int'rest of their trauayles, and defray
The bands contracted twixt his soueraignty
And the Republick: seeking to allay
All greeuances; reorder equity;
Reform the Barres, that Iustice did abuse;
Lay easie on the State, as new Kings vse.
46
As he, who, hauing found great Treasury,The first yeare offers, with most gratefull cheere,
A sheepe of gold, to Iunoes deity;
And next, of siluer, for the second yeare;
The third, of brasse; and then, neglectiuely,
Nothing at all: So those respects, which were
Borne of a present feeling, mov'd him most;
But soon were with their times and motiues lost.
314
47
And, what his bounty could not recompense,He payes with honors, and with dignities.
And (more to angle the beneuolence,
And catch the loue of men, with curtesies)
He oft would make his dignity dispense
With his too lowe familiarities;
Descending, from his Sphere of Maiesty,
Beneath himselfe, very submissiuely.
48
And when he had dispos'd, in some good traine,His home affaires; he counsells how t'aduance
His forraine correspondence, with the chaine
Of some alliance that might countenance
His Greatnesse, and his quiet intertaine.
Which was thought fittest with some match, of France;
To hold that Kingdome, from subayding such
Who else could not subsist, nor hope so much.
49
Nor was it now a time to haue contrastWith any forrain mighty Potentate;
But keep the outer doores of each side fast,
Hauing so much to doo within his State.
And, therevpon, was Warwicke (by whose cast
All must be wrought) imploy'd to mediate
A present Marriage, to be had betweene
Him, and the sister of the yong French Queene.
315
50
Which was not long, nor hard to bring to passeWhere like respects met in a point alike.
So that the same as euen concluded was,
And all as done; Lady and friends all like:
When Loue, the Lord of Kings (by whom must passe
This Act of our Affections) tooke dislike
That he was not made priuy thereunto;
And therfore, in his wrath, would all vndoe.
51
For, whiles this youthfull Prince, at his disportIn Grafton woods, retyr'd from publick care,
Attending how his sute in France did sorte
(Whereon his cogitations onely were)
He comes, at home, surpris'd in other sort;
A neerer fire inflam'd his passions heere;
An English Beautie, with more worth indu'd
Then France could yeeld, his royall heart subdu'd.
52
A wofull widdow, whom his quarrell had(As it had many moe) made desolate,
Came to his Court, in mournfull habit clad,
To sue for Iustice, to relieue her state.
And entring as a suppliant all sad;
With gracefull sorrow, and a comely gate
She past the Presence: where, all eyes were cast
On her more stately presence, as she past.
316
53
Her lookes, not let-abrode (but carefullyKept in, restraind) held their reseruednesse:
Obseruing none but her owne dignity,
And his, to whom she did her selfe addresse.
And, drawing neere his royall Maiesty,
A blush of reuerence, not bashfulnesse,
Lightned her louely cheeks, and downe she kneeles;
Giues her Petition, for the wrongs she feeles.
54
And, in deliv'ring it, lifts vp her eyes(The mouingst Mediatours shee could bring)
And strait withdrawes them, in submissiue wise;
Not fixing them directly on the King:
Who, mov'd with her sweet fashion, bade her rise,
With gentle language full of comforting;
Read her request: but thought not what he read.
The lines, hee view'd, her eyes had figured.
55
Then paus'd a while, and musd; as if he weigh'dThe substance of her sute. The which, God wote,
Was not the thing he mus'd. And, hauing stay'd,
Seem'd to read on againe; but yet reades not:
And still a stealing side-cast looke conuai'd
On her sweet face; as if he had forgot
To be else-where, then where he did behold:
And thought not what he did; but what he would.
317
56
But, least his sodaine passion might haue, there,More witnesses then he would wish to haue;
He tooke vp his desires, which posting were
Beyond their stages; and this answere gaue:
Madam, we will our selfe take time to heare
Your Cause at large: wherein we wil you haue
No other reference, but repaire to vs:
Who will accommodate this businesse.
57
She, that expected present remedie(Hearing this dilatory answer) thought,
The King found scruple in the equitie
Of her request; and thereupon he sought
To put her to delayes of Court, whereby
She might be tyr'd, and in the end get nought.
And that, which her opinion made more strong,
Was that he studied, and was mute, so long.
58
Which forc't from her these wordes: My Lord,Let not my being a Lancastrian bred
Without mine owne election, disafford
Me right, or make my Cause disfigured;
Since I am now the subiect of your sword:
Which God hath (with your Right) established,
To doo vs right: and let not what wee were,
Be now the cause to hurt vs as we are.
318
59
Ladie, mistake me not: neuer did IMake war with women, nor vs'd womens war,
Reuenge; but prosecuted honestly
My Right, not Men. My quarrels ended are,
With my obtayning of the victorie.
And (Lady) knowe, your Cause moues me thus far,
As you shall finde, sayd hee, I doo desire
To doo you greater right then you require.
60
With this, they part; both, with their thoughts full charg'd:She, of her sute in hand; and he of her:
Wherein, he spends that night, and quite discharg'd
All other cogitations; to confer,
First, how he might haue her estate inlarg'd:
Then, in what sort her seruice to prefer
Vnto his new exspected Wife and Queene:
Then, how to maske his loue, from being seene.
61
For, yet, Lust was not growne to that degreeTo haue no limits; but that Shame kept-in
The greatest Greatnes, from this being free
To hold their Wantonness to be no sinne.
For, though Kings cannot ouer-maistred bee,
They will be ouer-lookt, and seene within:
And, though they could their weaknesses make sure;
Yet crymes, though safe, can neuer be secure.
319
62
Sometimes, he thinks it better to prouideA place retyr'd, and haue her from the Court:
And then, with what pretentions he might hide
His priuat comming, and his oft resort:
Then, by his Queene, if it should be espi'd,
How he might cleare with her, and stop report.
And thus consumes the night: and if hee slept,
He slept those thoughts that with these passions kept.
63
The morning being com'n (and glad he wasThat it was com'n) after so long a night
He thought would haue no morning (time did passe
So slowe, and his desires ran-on so light)
A messenger with speed dispatched was,
Of speciall trust, this Lady to inuite
To come t'his presence; though before the time
That Ladies rise: who rarely rise betime.
64
Yet soone shee hastes: and yet that soone seem'd long,To him whose longing went so swift a pase:
And frets, that such attyring should belong
To that which yeelds it selfe sufficient grace;
Consid'ring how these ornaments may wrong
The set of beautie: which, we see, doth grace
Th'attire it weares, and is not grac't thereby;
As be'ing that onely, which doth take the eye.
320
65
But now, be'ing com'n, that quarrell of delayStreight ended was: her presence satisfies
All, what Expectance had layd out for stay:
And he beheld more sweetnesse in her eyes,
And saw her more then she was yesterday:
A cheerliness did with her hopes arise,
That lamped cleerer then it did before,
And made her spirit, and his affections, more.
66
When, those who were about him, presentlyVoyded the roome, and left him to confer
Alone with his faire Suter priuatly
(As they who to his courses conscious were)
And he began: Madame, the remedie
Which you (in your Petition) sue-for here,
Shall be allow'd to th'vtmost that you craue,
With th'expedition you would wish to haue.
67
And here I haue another sute to you:Which if you please to grant, wee both shall now
Rest equally content. Wherewith, there grew
That sodaine alteration in her brow,
As all were ouer-cast; and so with-drew
That freedome from her lookes (least they should 'low
More then her heart might meane) as they reflect
A narrower and a carefuller aspect.
321
68
That when he saw this barrier of dislikeThus inter-set, to keepe his forwardnes
Backe from presumptiue pressing; it did strike
That reuerence, as it staide him to expresse
His farther will. And she replies: 'Tis like,
When Kings to subiects sue, they meane no less
Then to command; nor must they be withstood;
For-that good Kings will seeke but what is good.
69
And, in that faire respect, your Maiestie,According to your will, both must and may
Command my seruice; who most reuerently
Your royall pleasure euer shall obay.
With which word, pleasure (though it doubtfully
In that hard fastnesse of condition lay,
Vnder the locke of goodnesse) he was cast
In hope, he might obtaine the same at last.
70
And thus reioynes; My pleasure only shallBe, Madame, for your good; please it but you
To make it so. And, here to tell you all,
I loue you; and therein I tell you true.
What honour may by Kings affections fall,
Must light vpon your fortunes, as your due.
And though France shall a Wife, for fashion, bring:
You must be th'onely mistress of the King.
322
71
Streight might you see, how Scorne, and Feare, & Shame(All intermixt in one aspect) returne
The message of her thoughts, before words came.
And first, within her brow, in state sate Scorne;
Shame in her Cheekes; where also Feare became
And In-mate too; and both appeare, by turne:
Blushes did paleness, paleness blushes chace;
As scorning, fearing, shaming such disgrace.
72
She scornes to be addeem'd so worthlesse-baseAs to bee mov'd to such an infamie.
She shames to thinke that ought, within her face,
Should breed th'opinion of immodestie.
Shee feares the fatall daunger of the place,
Her loneness, and the powre of Maiestie:
And so (confus'd) in feare, in shame, in scorne,
This Answere to his Motion doth returne:
73
My sov'raigne Lord, it grieues me that you deeme,Because I in this sort for Iustice sue,
I would the same with mine owne wrong redeeme,
And by dishonour reobtaine my due:
No: I would hate that right, which should but seeme
To be beholding to a wanton view
Or motiue of my person, not my Cause;
That craues but right, from Iustice, and your lawes.
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74
And knowe, great Monarch, that I more doo waighMy Distaffe with mine honour, then I doo
The mightiest Scepter, King did euer sway
Vpon the earth, or Nations bow'd vnto.
I owe subiection; which I humbly pay,
With all the outward seruice I can doo:
But, Sov'raigne, in the region of my hart
I raigne sole Queene; no King can force a part.
75
Here, Feare a little interpos'd a touch,To warne her violence to temporize
With Powre, and State: and she concludes her speach,
With crauing pardon in more humble wise:
Yet, in proud humble wise: which shew'd, how much
She did her honor aboue Greatnes prise.
And so, being full of what she did conceiue,
Desires to be dismist, and takes her leaue.
76
Here, Mary Pembrooke (by whose generous brow,And noble graces, I delineat
These shapes of others virtues) could I showe
In what a desperat and confus'd estate
She left this disappointed King; and how
Loue and Ambition in their glory sate,
And tyranniz'd on his diuided hart,
Warring each other with a powrefull part.
324
77
How first, Loue vnderneath his Colours broughtThe strength of all her gracefull worthinesse:
And sets them in th'aduantage of his thought,
Vpon the side of Youth and Wantonnesse:
Then how Ambition, that for glory wrought,
Comes with his State, his Crowne, and Powrfulnes,
And plants her on the side of prouidence,
To beat vnfit Affections off from thence.
78
But, I must ouer-goe these passages;And hasten-on my way, to ouer-take
Mine endes, in sad and grauer businesses;
Wherof I shall to you relation make:
And yet my zeale here forc't mee thus t'expresse
Elizabeth, for our Elizaes sake;
Who grac't the Muses (which her Times became):
For, they who giue them comfort, must haue fame.
79
And I must tell you now, when this great fightOf counter-passions had beene throughly try'd,
How in the ende the victorie did light
Vpon Loues forces, as the stronger side;
And beat downe those respects of benefite,
Of honor, greatnes, strength, and all beside;
And neuer graunted rest vnto his strife,
Till mariage rites had her confirm'd his wife.
325
80
Which, that place, where he saw her first, saw donne,Ere he remov'd his foot: for, Loue is stil
In haste, and (as a Lord, that rules alone)
Admittes no Counseller, in good nor ill.
For, He and Kings gladly giue eare to none,
But such as smooth their wayes, and sooth their will.
And who will not desire to giue his voyce
(Be what it will) to prayse a Princes choyce?
81
Which was (indeed) in virtue, beautie, grace,And all but fortune, worthy of his bed:
And in that too, had hee but liv'd the space
T'haue seene her plentious issue fully bred;
That they might haue collated strength and grace
On her weake side: which (scornd and malicèd)
Lay-open vndefenc't, apt to b'vndon
By proud vsurping Powre, when he was gon.
82
But now, when fame of this home-chosen MatchArriu'd in France (for there it did arriue,
Ere they could heere attend to make dispatch
T'impart the same to Warwick, or contriue
Some colour that in any sort might fetch
Him fayrely off, and no dishonor giue)
It so much stird the humors in those parts,
As marr'd the whole complexion of their hearts.
326
83
The French King scornes such an indignity.VVarwick disdaines imployment in this case.
The Queene (inrag'd) with extreame vehemency,
Stormes at her sisters and her owne disgrace.
The Lady Bona takes most tenderly
To be so mockt, with hope of such a Place:
And all blame Warwick, and his fraud condem;
Whil'st he himself, deceiu'd, suffers with them:
84
And could not (by all meanes might be deuiz'd)Vntaste them of this violent disgust;
But that they still held, something lay disguis'd
Vnder this treaty. So that now he must
Bring-home his reputation cauteris'd
With th'idle marke of seruing others lust
In friuolous imployments, or be sent
Out of the way to colour some intent.
85
“Which, to himselfe, made him, with griefe inueigh“Against distemp'red kings: who often are
“Ill warrants for their owne affaires; and waigh
“Their lusts, more then their dignity, by far:
“And what a miserie they haue that sway
“Their great designes; what danger, and what care;
“And often must be forc't, be'ing at their becks,
“To crack their reputation, or their necks.
327
86
“How their high fauours like as fig-trees are,“That growe vpon the sides of rocks; where they
“Who reach their fruit, aduenture must so far
“As t'hazard their deep down-fall and decay.
“Their grace, not fixt; but, as a blazing star
“Burnes out the present matter, and away:
“And how the world could too wel witnesse beare,
“That both their loues and hates like dangerous were.
87
Thus he complaynes, and makes his home-retire;All disappointed of his purposes.
For, hoping, by this Match, to hold intire
That Lady, with her great alliances;
And haue the King more firm to his desire,
By managing of both their bus'nesses;
He, by this Match (thus made without his mean)
Comes barr'd from al those tying int'rests cleane.
88
For, well he knew, that all his seruice pastWas past; and would not be a future tye
To hold him in, vnlesse that he could cast
To introduce some neere necessity
Of his imployment, that were like to last,
And shut-out all other concurrency.
Without which, nor his Greatnes, nor his Wits,
Could ward him from the Kings vnconstant fits.
328
89
Which more perplext him, and in neerer sort,Then what France might by his ambassage ghesse,
Or England deeme. But, being arriu'd at Cort,
He drawes a Trauerse 'twixt his greeuances;
Lookes like the time: his eye made not report
Of what he felt within: nor was he lesse
Then vsually he was, in euery part;
Wore a cleere face, vpon a clowdy hart:
90
Congratulates the Queene; commends the KingFor his rare choice; protesting her to be
Far beyond all, the world beside could bring
To fit his liking; and that he did see
The Lady Bona was a peeuish thing,
Sullayne, and proud; and would in no degree
Haue pleas'd his humor, or in any sort
Haue satisfi'd the Ladies of this Cort.
91
And, after hauing finisht all the riteOf complement and interuisiting;
He humbly craues dismission that he might
Retyre a while, t'attend the managing
And setting of his country-bus'nesse right;
Whereby the better to attend the King:
From whom he parts; and neuer seem'd more deere,
More grac't, nor yet himselfe of fre'er cheere.
329
92
First, VVarwick-Castle (that had seldome knowneThe Maister there) he visits; and from thence
Goes t'other goodly Mannours of his owne.
Where, seene with ioy, with loue, with reuerence;
(King of him selfe,) he findes that there is show'n
The vse of life, the true magnificence,
T'inioy his Greatnesse: which, at Corte, in vaine
Men toyle-for, and yet neuer doo attaine.
93
Which, his religious Confessor (who bestCould cast, with what a violent accesse,
This feuer of Ambition did molest
His still-sick minde) takes hold-on; to addresse
(Vpon th'aduantage of this little rest)
Some lenitiues, t'allay the firynesse
Of this disease; which (as a maladie,
Seiz'd in the Spirits) hath seldom remedy.
94
“And thus sets on him: See, my Lord, how heere“Th'eternall Prouidence of God hath brought
“You to the Shore of safetie (out of feare)
“From all the waues of misery, that wrought
“To ouer-whelm you; and hath set you cleare,
“Where you would bee; with hauing (which you sought
“Through all these hazards of distresse) a King
“Of your owne making and establishing.
330
95
“And now, my Lord, I trust you will sit downe,“And rest you, after all this passed thrall,
“And be your selfe (a Prince within your owne)
“Without aduent'ring any more at all
“Your state in others Bottomes; hauing knowne
“The dangers that on mighty Actors fall;
“Since, in the foot of your accompts, your gaynes
“Come-short to make euen reck'ning with your paines.
96
“Inioy now what you wrought-for, in this sort“(If great-mens Endes be to enjoy their Endes)
“And knowe, the happiest powre, the greatest port,
“Is onely that which on it selfe depends.
“Heere haue you State inough to be a Cort
“Vnto your selfe; here, where the world attends
“On you, not you on it, obserued sole:
“You, else-where but a part, are heere the whole.
97
“Th'aduantages of Princes, are (we see)“But things conceiu'd imaginarily.
“For, euery state of fortune, in degree,
“Some image hath of principalitie:
“Which they inioy more naturall and free,
“Then can great Powers, chain'd with observancie,
“And with the fetters of respect still ty'd;
“Being easier far to follow then to guide.
331
98
“And what art Corts, but Camps of misery?“That doo besiege mens states, and still are prest
“T'assaile, prevent, complot, and fortifie;
“In hope t'attaine, in feare to be supprest;
“Where, all with shewes, and with apparancie,
“Men seeme, as if for stratagems addrest:
“Where, Fortune, as the Woolfe, doth still prefer
“The fowlest of the traine that followes her.
99
“And where, fayre hopes are lay'd (as ambushments)“To intercept your life, and to betray
“Your liberty to such intanglements,
“As you shal neuer-more get cleare away:
“Where, both th'ingagement of your owne intents,
“And others recknings, and accounts, shall lay
“Such waights vpon you, as you shal not part,
“Vnlesse you breake your credit, or your heart.
100
“Besides: as exiles, euer from your homes“You liue perpetuall in disturbancy;
“Contending, thrusting, shuffling for your roomes
“Of ease or honor, with impatiency:
“Building your fortunes, vpon others tombes,
“For other then your owne posterity.
“You see, Corts few aduance; many vndoo:
“And those they do aduance, they ruine too.
332
101
“And therefore now, my Lord, since you are heere,“Where you may haue your rest with dignitie;
“Worke that you may continue so: and cleare
“Your selfe, from out these streights of misery.
“Hold your estate and life, as things more deare
“Then to be throwne at an vncertainty.
“Tis time, that you and England haue a calme;
“And time, the Oliue stood aboue the Palme.
102
Thus the good Father, with an humble thought(Bred in a Cellularie lowe retyre)
According to his quiet humor, sought
T'auert him from his turbulent desire;
“When the great Earle began: Father, I note
“What you with zeale aduise, with loue require:
“And I must thanke you, for this care you haue,
“And for those good aduertisements you gaue.
103
“And truely, Father, could I but get free“(Without being rent) and hold my dignitie;
“That Sheep-cot, which in yonder vale you see
“(Beset with Groues, and those sweet Springs hard-by)
“I rather would my Palace wish to bee,
“Then any roofe, of proudest Maiestie:
“But, that I cannot dooe; I haue my part:
“And I must liue, in one house, with my hart.
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104
“I knowe, that I am fixt vnto a Sphere“That is ordayn'd to moue. It is the place
“My fate appoints me; and the region where
“I must, what-euer happens, there, imbrace.
“Disturbance, trauaile, labor, hope and feare,
“Are of that Clime, ingendred in that place;
“And action best, I see, becomes the Best:
“The Starres, that haue most glorie, haue no rest.
105
“Besides: it were a Cowards part, to fly“Now from my Holde, that haue held out so well;
“It be'ing the Station of my life, where I
“Am set to serue, and stand as Sentinell:
“And must, of force, make good the place, or dy,
“When Fate and Fortune (those great States) compell.
“And then, we Lords in such case euer are,
“As peace can cut our throats aswell as war.
106
“And hath her griefes, and her incombrances:“And doth with idle rest, deforme vs more
“Then any Magha can, or sorceresse,
“With basely wasting all the Martiall store
“Of heat and spirit (which graceth Manlinesse)
“And makes vs still false images adore:
“Besides profusion of our faculties,
“In grosse dull glutt'ny, vap'rous gourmandise.
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107
“And therefore since I am the man I am,“I must not giue a foote, least I giue all.
“Nor is this Bird within my breast so tame,
“As to be fed at hand, and mockt with-all.
“I rather would my state were out of frame,
“Then my renowne should come to get a fall.
“No, no: th'vngratefull boy shall neuer think,
“That I, who him inlarg'd to powre, will shrink.
108
“What is our life, without our dignitie?“Which oft, we see, comes lesse by liuing long.
“Who euer was there worth the memorie,
“And eminent indeed, but still dy'd young?
“As if worth had agreed with destinie,
“That time, which rightes them, should not doo thē wrong.
“Besides; Old-age doth giue, by too long space,
“Our soules as many wrinkles as our face.
109
“And as for my inheritance and State“(What euer happen) I wil so prouide
“That Law shall, with what strength it hath, collate
“The same on mine, and those to mine ally'd:
“Although I knowe, she serues a present State,
“And can vndoo againe what shee hath ty'd.
“But, that we leaue to him, who poynts-out heyres:
“And howsoeuer, yet the world is theirs.
110
“Where, they must worke it out; as borne to run“Those Fortunes, which as mightie Families
335
“Nor shall they gaine, by mine indignities,
“Who may without my courses be vndonne.
“And who-so makes his State, and life, his tyes
“To doo vnworthily, is borne a slaue:
“And let him with that brand go to his Graue.
111
Here, would the reuerent Father haue reply'd,That it were far more Magnanimitie,
T'indure, then to resist: that we are ty'd
As well to beare the inconueniencie
And straynes of Kings and States; as to abide
Vntimely raynes, tempests, sterilitie,
And other ills of Nature that befall:
Which we, of force, must be content withall:
112
But that a speedy messenger was sentTo shewe, the D. of Clarence was hard-by.
And, thereupon, VVarwicke breakes-off, and went
(With all his traine attending formally)
To intertaine him, with fit complement;
As, glad of such an opportunitie
To worke vpon, for those high purposes
He had conceiu'd in discontentednes.
The ende of the eightth Booke.
END OF VOL. II.
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