The Famous Chronicle of king Edward the first sirnamed Edward Longshankes, with his returne from the holy land |
 | The Famous Chronicle of king Edward the first |  |
The Queene Mother.
My L. lieutenant of Glocester, and L. Mortimer,
To do you honor in your Soueraignes eyes,
That as we heare is newly come aland,
From Palestine, with all his men of warre:
The poore remainer of the royall Fleete,
Preseru'd by miracle in Sicill Roade.
Go mount your Coursers, meete him on the way,
Pray him to spur his Steede, minutes and houres,
Vntill his mother see hir princely sonne,
Shining in glory of his safe returne.
Exeunt Lords.
Manet Queene Mother.
Illustrious England, auncient seat of kings,
Whose chiualrie hath roiallizd thy fame:
That sounding brauely through terrestiall vaile,
Proclaiming conquests, spoiles, and victories,
Rings glorious Ecchoes through the farthest worlde.
What warlike nation traind in feates of armes,
What climate vnder the Meridian signes,
Or frozen Zone vnder his brumall stage,
Erst haue not quaked and trembled at the name
Of Britaine, and hir mightie Conquerours?
Her neighbor realmes as Scotland, Denmarke, France,
Aude with their deedes, and iealious of her armes,
Haue begd defensiue and offensiue leagues.
Thus Europe riche and mightie in her kinges,
Hath feard braue England dreadfull in her kings:
And now to eternize Albions Champions,
Equiualent with Troians auncient fame,
Comes louely Edward from Ierusalem,
Veering before the winde, plowing the sea,
His stretched sailes fild with the breath of men,
That through the world admires his manlines.
And loe at last, ariued in Douer roade,
Long shanke your king, your glory and our sonne,
With troopes of conquering Lords and warlike knights,
Like bloudy crested Mars orelookes his hoste,
Higher then all his armie by the head,
Martching along as bright as Phœbus eyes,
And we his mother shall beholde our sonne,
And Englands Peeres shall see their Souerninge.
The Trumpets sound, and enter the traine, viz. his maimed Souldiers with head peeces and Garlands on them, euery man with his red Crosse on his coate: the Ancient borne in a Chaire, his Garland and his plumes on his headpeece, his Ensigne in his hand. Enter after them Glocester and Mortimer bareheaded, & others as many as may be. Then Longshanks and his wife Elinor, Edmund Couchback, and Ione and Signior Moumfort the Earle of Leicesters prisoner, with Sailers and Souldiers, and Charles de Moumfort his brother.
Q. Mother.
Glocester, Edward, O my sweete sonnes.
And then she fals and sounds.
Helpe Ladies: O ingratefull desteny,
To welcome Edward with this tragedie.
Glocest.
Pacient your highnes, tis but mothers loue,
Receiu'd with sight of her thrice valiant sonnes:
Madam amaze not, see his Maiestie
Returnd with glory from the holy land.
Moth.
Braue sons the worthy Champions of our God,
The honourable souldiers of the highest,
Beare with your mother whose aboundant loue,
With teares of ioyes salutes your sweete returne,
From famous iourneys hard and fortunate.
But lordes alas how heauie is our losse,
Since your departure to these Christian warres,
The king your Father, and the prince your sonne,
And your braue Vnckle Almaines Emperour,
Aye me are dead.
Longsh.
Take comfort madam, leaue these sad laments,
Deare was my vnckle, dearer was my sonne:
And ten times dearer was my noble father,
Yet were their liues valewd at thousand worlds,
They cannot scape the arrest of dreadfull death:
Death that dooth seaze and sommon all alike.
Then leauing them to heauenly blessednes,
To ioyne in thrones of glory with the iust,
I doo salute your royall Maiestie.
My gratious mother Queene, and you my lordes,
Gilbart de Clare, Sussex, and Mortimer,
And all the princely states of Englands peeres,
With health and honor to your harts content,
And welcome wished England on whose ground,
These feete so often haue desird to tread,
Welcome sweete Queene my fellow Traueller,
Welcome sweete Nell my fellow mate in armes,
Whose eyes haue seene the slaughtered Sarazens,
Pil'de in the ditches of Ierusalem,
And lastly welcome manly followers,
That beares the scars of honor and of armes,
Crowne Murall, Nauall, and triumphant all,
At view of whom the Turkes haue trembling fled,
And Sarazens like sheepe before the walles,
Haue made their cottages in walled townes,
But Bulwarkes had no fence to beate you back,
Lords, these and they will enter brasen gates,
And teare downe lime and Morter with their nailes.
Imbrace them Barons these haue got the name,
Of English Gentlemen and knights at armes:
Not one of these but in the Champaine field,
Hath wonne his crowne, his collar and his spurs,
Not Cæsar leading through the streetes of Rome,
The captiue kings of conquered nations,
Was in his princely triumphes honoured more,
Then English Edward in this martiall sight.
Courage men your liues are lost in seruice of the Lord,
Which is your glory and your Countries fame,
For lims, you shall haue liuing, lordships, lands,
And be me counsellers in warres affaires:
Souldiers sit downe, Nell sit thee by my side,
These be prince Edwards pompious treasurie.
The Queene Mother being set on the one side, and Queene Elinor on the other, the king sitteth in the middest mounted highest, and at his feete the Ensigne vnderneath him.
O glorious Capitoll, beautious Senate house,
Triumphant Edward, how like sturdie Oakes,
Do these thy Souldiers circle thee about,
To shield and shelter thee from winters stormes?
Display thy crosse, old Aimes of the Vies,
Dub on your Drums tand with Indiaes sunne,
My lustie westerne lads, Matreueirs thou,
Sound prowdly here a perfect point of warre,
In honour of thy Souereignes safe returne.
Thus Longshanks bids his Souldiers Bien venue.
Edw.
O God my God, the brightnes of my daye,
How oft hast thou preseru'd thy seruant safe,
By sea and land, yea in the gates of death,
O God to thee how highly am I bound,
For setting me with these on English ground?
One of my mansion houses will I giue,
To be a colledge for my maimed men,
Where euery one shall haue an hundred markes
Of yearely pention to his maintenance,
A Souldier that for Christ and countrie sightes,
Shall want no liuing whilst king Edward liues,
Lords you that loue me now be liberall,
And giue your larges to these maimed men.
Q. Mot.
Towards this erection doth thy mother giue,
Out of her dowrie, fiue thousand pounds of gold,
To finde them Surgeons to recure their wounds,
And whilst this auncient Standard bearer liues,
He shall haue fortie pound of yeerely fee,
And be my Beadsman father if you please.
Longsh.
Madam I tell you England neuer bred,
A better souldier then your Beadsman is,
And that the Souldan and his Armie felt.
Edmund.
Out of the dutchie of riche Lancaster,
To finde soft bedding for their bruzed bones,
Duke Edmund giues three thousand pounds.
Longsh.
Gramercies brother Edmund,
Happie is England vnder Edwards raigne,
When men are had so highly in regarde,
That Nobles striue who shall remunerate,
The souldiers resolution with regarde.
My Lord of Glocester what is your beneuolence?
Glocest.
A thousand markes and please your Maiestie.
Longsh.
And yours my lord of Sussex?
Sussex.
Fiue hundred pound, and please your maiestie.
What say you sir Dauid of Brecknock.
Dauid.
To a souldier sir Dauid cannot be too liberall,
Yet that I may giue no more then a poore knight is able
And not presume as a mightie Earle,
I giue my Lord foure hundred, foure score,
And nineteene poundes:
And so my lord of Sussex I am behind you an ace.
Sussex.
And yet sir Dauid ye aumble after apace.
Lon.
Wel said Da. thou couldst not be a Camber Britain
If thou didst not loue a souldier with thy hart,
Let me see how if my Arithmeticke wil serue,
To totall the particulars.
Qu. Eli.
Why my lord I hope you meane,
I shal be a benefactor to my fellow souldiers.
Longshankes.
And wel said Nell.
What wilt thou I set downe for thee?
Q. El.
Nay my lord I am of age to set it down for my self.
You will alowe what I do, will you not?
Longsh.
That I will Maddam,
Were it to the value of my kingdome.
Qu. Elin.
What is the summe my lord?
Longshankes.
10000 pounds my Nell.
Qu. Eli.
Then Elinor bethinke thee of a gift worthie
the king of Englandes wife, and the king of Spaines
daughter, and giue such a largis, that the Chronicles of
this land may crake with record of thy liberalitie.
There my lord, neither one, two, nor three,
But a poore Cipher in Agrum, to inrich good fellowes,
And compound their figure in their kinde.
Longsh.
Madam I commend your composition,
An argument of your honourable disposition:
Sweete Nell thou shouldst not be thy selfe,
Did not with thy mounting minde,
Thy gift surmount the rest.
Gloce.
Cal you this Ridieulus mus? mary sir this mouse
Tis but a Cipher in Agrum,
And it hath made of 10000 pounds, 100000 pounds:
Edmund.
A princely gift and worthy memorie.
Glocester.
My gratious Lord, as erst I was assignde,
Lieutenant to his Maiestie,
Here render I vp the crowne left in charge with me,
By your princely father king Henrie,
Who on his death bed still did call for you,
And dying, wild to you the Diadem.
Longshankes.
Thankes worthie Lordes,
And seeing by doome of heauens it is decreed,
And lawful line of our succession,
Vnworthy Edward is become your king,
We take it as a blessing from on hie,
And wil our Coronation be solemnized,
Vpon the 14. of December next.
Qu. Eli.
Vpon the 14. of December next?
Alas my Lord, the time is all too short
And sudden, for so great solemnitie:
A yeare were scarse enough to set a worke,
Tailers, Imbroderes, and men of rare deuice,
For preparation of so great estate.
Trust me sweete Ned, hardlie shal I bethinke me,
In twentie weekes what fashion robes to weare,
I pray thee then deferre it till the spring,
That we may haue our garments point deuice.
I meane to send for Tailers into Spaine,
That shall confer of some fantastickt sutes,
With those that be our conningst Englishmen,
What? let me braue it now or neuer Ned.
Long.
Madam content ye, would that were greatest care,
You shall haue garments to your harts desire,
I neuer red but Englishmen exceld,
For change of rare deuises euery way.
Q. Eli.
Yet pray thee Ned, my loue, my lord, and king,
My fellow souldier, and compeere in armes,
To weare a sute that shee shall giue thy grace,
Of her one cost and workmanship perhaps.
Q. Mot.
Twil come by leasure daughter then I feare,
Th'art too fine lingard to be quick at worke.
Long.
Twixt v sa greater matter breakes no square,
So it be such my Nell as may beseeme,
The maiestie and greatnes of a king.
And now my Lords and louing friends,
Follow your Generall to the court,
After his trauels to repose him then,
There to recount with pleasure what is past,
Of warres alarums, showres and sharpest stormes.
Exeunt all, sauing the Queene and her daughter.
Q. Eli.
Now Elinor, now Englands louely Queene,
Bethinke thee of the greatnes of thy state:
And how to beare thy selfe with roialtie,
Aboue the other Queenes of Christendome,
That Spaine reaping renowne by Elinor,
And Elinor adding renowne to Spaine,
Britaine may her magnificence admire.
I tell thee Ione, what time our highnes sits,
Vnder our royall Canopie of state,
Glistering with pendants of the purest gold,
Like as our seate were spangled all with stars
The world shall wonder at our maiestie,
As if the daughter of eternall Ops,
Turnd to the likenes of Vermilion fumes,
Where from her cloudie wombe the Centaures lept,
VVere in her royall seate inthronized.
Ione.
Madam, if Ione thy daughter may aduise,
Let not your honour make your manners change,
The people of this land are men of warre,
The women courteous, milde, and debonaire,
Laying their liues at princes feete,
That gouernes with familiar maiestie,
But if their soueraignes once gin swell with pride,
And surenes of the richest common welth:
That Prince were better liue a priuate life,
Then rule with tirannie and discontent.
Q. Eli.
Indeed we count them headstrong Englishmen
But we shall hold them in a Spanish yoake.
And make them know their Lord and soueraigne.
Come daughter let vs home for to prouide:
For all the cunning work-men of this Ile,
In our great chamber shall bee set aworke,
And in my hall shall bountifully feede.
My King like Phœbus bridegroome like shall marche
With louely Xheeis to her glassie bed,
And all the lookers on shall stand amazde,
To see King Edward and his louely Queene,
Sit louely in Englands stately throne.
Exeunt Ambo.
Enter Lluellen, alias Prince of Wales: Rice ap Meredeth, Owen ap Rice, with swordes and bucklers and freese Ierkins.
Llu.
Come Rice and rouse thee for thy countries good,
Followe the man that meanes to make you great:
Follow Lluellen rightfull prince of VVales.
Sprong from the loines of great Cadwallader,
Discended from the loines of Troian Brute,
And though the tariterous Saxons, Normans, Danes,
Haue spent the true Romans of glorious Troy,
Within the westerne mountaines of this Ile,
Yet haue we hope to clime these stonie pales,
VVhen Londoners as Romains earst amazde,
Shall trembling crie Lluellens at the gate.
T'accomplish this, thus haue I brought you forth,
Disguisde to Milford hauen, here attend,
The landing of the ladie Æliner.
Her stay doth make me muse, the winde stands fairer.
Neptune be fauourable to my loue,
And steere hir keele with thy three forked mace,
That from this shore I may behold her sailes,
And in mine armes embrace my deerest deare.
Rice.
Braue prince of Wales, this honorable matche,
Cannot but turne to Cambrias common good.
Simon de Momfort, her thrise valiant sonne,
That in the Barons warres was Generall,
VVas lou'd and honoured of the Englishmen.
VVhen they shall heare, shees your espoused wife,
Assure your grace we shall haue great supplie,
To make our roades in England mightilie.
Owen.
VVhat we resolu'd, must strongly be performd,
Before the king returne from Palestine,
VVhilst he wins glorie at Ierusalem,
Let vs winne ground vpon the Englishmen.
Lluel.
Owen ap Rice, tis that Lluellen feares,
I feare me Edward will be come a shore,
Ere we can make prouision for the warre.
But be it as it will, within his court
My brother Dauid is, that beares a face,
As if he were my greatest enemie,
He by this craft shall creepe into her heart,
And giue intelligence from time to time,
Of her intentions, driftes and stratagems.
Heere let vs rest vpon the salt sea shore,
And while our eyes long for our hearts desires,
Let vs like friends pastime vs on the sands,
Our frolike mindes are ominous for good.
Enter Friar Hugh ap Dauid, Guenthian his wench in Flannell, and Iack his Nouice.
Friar.
Guenthian as I am true man,
So will I doo the best I can:
Guenthian as I am true Priest,
Guenthian as I am true Friar,
So wil I be at thy desire.
Nouice.
My maister stands too neere the fier,
Trust him not wench, he will prooue a liar.
Lluellen.
True man, true Friar, true priest, & true knaue,
These foure in one this trull shall haue.
Friar.
Heere sweare I by my shauen crowne,
VVench if I giue thee a gay greene gowne,
Ile take thee vp as I laid thee downe,
And neuer bruze nor batter thee.
Nouice.
O sweare not maister, flesh is fraile,
VVenche when the signe is in the taile,
Mightie is loue and will preuaile,
This Churchman dooth but flatter thee.
Lluel.
A prittie worme, and a lustie friar,
Made for the field, not for the quire.
Guenth.
Mas Friar as I am true maide,
So do I hold me well apaide:
Tis Churchmans laie and veritie,
To liue in loue and charitie,
And therefore weene I as my creede,
Your wordes shall companie my deed,
Dauie my deare, I yeeld in all,
Thine owne to goe and come at call.
Rice.
And so farre foorth begins our braule.
Friar.
Then my Guenthian to begin,
Sith idlenes in loue is sinne,
Boie to the towne I will thee hie,
And so returne euen by and by,
VVhen thou with cakes and muskadine,
And other iunkets good and fine,
Hast fild thy bottle and thy bagge.
Nouice.
Now maister as I am true wag,
I will be neither late nor lag,
But goe and come with gossips cheere,
Ere Gib our Cat can lick her eare.
That louers desire, and pleasures coole:
Sanct Ceres sweetes and Bacchus vine,
Now mailler for the Cakes and Wine.
Exit Nouice.
Friar.
Wench to passe away the time in glee,
Guenthian set thee downe by me,
And let our lips and voices meete,
In a merrie countrey songe.
Guenth.
Friar, I am at beek and baye,
And at thy commaundement to sing and say,
And other sportes among.
Ow.
I marry my lord, this is somwhat like a mans mony,
Heeres a wholsome Welsh wench,
Lapt in her Flannell as warme as wooll,
And as fit as a pudding for a Friars mouthe.
The Friar and Guenthian sing: Lluellen speakes to them.
Pax vobis, pax vobis, good fellowes faire fall yee.
Friar.
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Friends haue you any thing els to say to the Friar?
Owen.
Much good doo you, much good you,
My maisters heartelie.
Friar.
And you sir when yee eate:
Haue ye any thing els to say to the Friar?
Lluel.
Nothing, but I would gladly know,
If muttō be your first dish, what shalbe your last seruice.
Friar.
It may bee fit I count it physicke,
To feede but on one dish at a sitting:
Sir would you any thing els with the Friar?
Rice.
O nothing sir, but if you had any manners,
You might bid vs fall too.
Friar.
Nay and that be the matter good enough,
Is this all yee haue to say to the Friar?
Lluel.
All we haue to say to you sir, it may be sir,
We would walke aside with your wenche a little.
My maisters and frends, I am a poore Friar, a man
of Gods making, and a good fellow as you are, legs, feete,
face and hands, & hart from top to toe, of my word, right
shape and Christendome: and I loue a wenche as a wench
should be loued, and if you loue your selfe walke good
friends I pray you, & let the Friar alone with his flesh.
Lluel.
O Friar, your holie mother the church teaches
you to abstaine from these morsels, therfore my maisters
tis a deed of charitie to remooue this stumbling block, a
faire wench, a shrewd temptation to a Friars conscience.
Guen.
Friend if you knew the Friar halfe so well as the
bailie of Brecknock, you would think you might as soone
mooue munck Dauie into the sea, as Guenth. from his side.
Lluel.
Mas by your leaue, weele prooue.
Guenth.
At your perill if you mooue his patience.
Friar.
Brother, brother, and my good Countrimen.
Lluel.
Countrimen? nay I cannot thinke that an English
friar, will come so farre into Wales barefooted.
Owen.
Thats more then you know, and yet my lord he
might ride, hauing a fillie so neeere.
Fri.
Hands off good countriman, at few words & faire warnings:
Lluel.
Countrimen, not so sir, wee renounce thee Friar, and refuse your countrie.
Friar.
Then brother and my good friends,
Hands off and if you loue your ease.
Rice.
Ease me no easings, weele case you of this carriage.
Friar.
Fellow be gone quicklie or my pike staffe and I
will set thee away with a vengeance.
Llu.
I am sorie trust me to see the church so vnpatient.
Fri.
Ye Dogs ounes, do me a shrowde turne and mocke
me too, flesh and bloud will not beare this: then rise vp
Robart and say to Richard, Redde rationem villicationis tua.
sir Countriman, kinsman, Englishman, Welshman, you
with the Wenche, returne your Habeas corpus, heres a
Circiorari for your Procedendo.
Owen.
Holde friar we are thy countriemen.
Rice.
Payd, payd, Digone, we are thy countrimē, Mundus.
My Countrymen? nay marry sir shal you not be
my countrimen, you sir, you, specially you sir that refuse
the Friar, and renounce his countrie.
Lluel.
Friar, hold thy hands, I sweare as I am a Gentleman,
I am a Welshman, and so are the rest of honestie.
Friar.
Of honestie saiest thou?
They are neither Gentlemen nor Welshmen,
That will denie their countrie: Come hither wenche,
Ile haue about with them once more,
For denying of theyr Countrie.
Make as if yee would fight.
Rice.
Frier thou wottest not what thou sayest,
This is the prince, and we are all his traine:
Disposed to be pleasant with thee a little,
But I perceiue Friar, thy nose will bide no iest.
Friar.
As much as you will with me sir,
But not at any hand with my wench,
I and Richard my man heere.
For here, Contra omnes gentes.
But is this Lluellen the great Camber Britaine?
Lluel.
It is he Friar, giue me thy hand,
And gramercies twentie times,
I promise thee thou hast cudgeld
Two as good lessons into my iacket,
As euer Churchman did at so short warning.
The one is, not to be too busie with another mans cattel,
The other, not in hast to denie my countrie.
Friar.
Tis pittie my Lorde,
But you should haue more of this learning
You profit so well by it.
Lluel.
Tis pittie Friar but thou shouldst be Lluellens
Chaplaine, thou edifiest so well, and so shalt thou be, of
mine honor, heere I entertaine thee, thy boye, and thy
trull, to follow my fortune, in Secula seculorum.
Friar.
And Richard my man sir and you loue me,
He that stands by me, and shrunke not at all weathers,
And then you haue me in my colours.
Enter the Harper, and sing to the tune of Who list to lead a Souldiers life.
Goe too, goe too, you Britaines all,
And plaie the men both great and small,
A wonderous matter hath befall,
That makes the Prophets crie and call,
Tum da et di te de te dum,
That you must marche both all and some,
Against your foes with trumpe and Drum:
I speake to you from God that you shall ouercome.
With a turne both waies.
Lluel.
What now, who haue we here?
Tum date dite dote dum.
Fri.
What haue we a fellow dropt out of the element,
Whats hee for a man?
Rice ap Mer.
Knowest thou this Goscup?
Fri.
What? not Morgain Pigot, our good welsh prophet,
O tis a holie Harper.
Meredith.
A Prophet with a moraine,
Good my Lord, lets heare a few of his lines I pray you.
Nouice.
My lords, tis an od fellow I can tell you,
As any is in all Wales:
He can sing rime with reason, and rime without reason,
And without reason or rime.
Lluellen.
The diuell hee can,
Rime with reason, and rime without reason,
And reason without rime:
Then good Morgan Pigot, pluck out thy spigot,
And draw vs a fresh pot,
From the kinder kinde of thy knowledge.
Friar.
Knowledge my sonne, knowledge I warrant ye,
How saist thou Morgaine, art thou not a very prophet?
Harper.
Friar, friar, a Prophet verilie,
For great Lluellens loue,
Mered.
Come then gentle prophet, lets see how thou
canst salute thy prince, say, shall we haue good successe in
our enterprize or no?
Harp.
VVhen the weathercock of Carmarihen steeple
Shall ingender yong ones in the belferie,
And a heard of Goates leaue their pasture,
To be cloathed in siluer:
Then shall Brute be borne a new,
And VVales record their auncient hew,
Aske Friar Dauid if this be not true.
Friar.
This my Lord a meanes by you,
O he is a prophet, a prophet.
Lluel.
Soft you now good Morgan Pigot,
And take vs with yee a little I pray,
VVhat meanes your wisdome by all this.
Harper.
The VVeathercock (my lord) was your father,
who by foule weather of warre, was driuen to take
Sanctuarie in Saint Maries at Carnaruon, where he begat
yong ones on your mother in the belfrey, viz. your worship,
and your brother Dauid
Lluel.
But what didst thou meane by the Goates?
Harp.
The Goates that leaue the pasture to be cloathed
in siluer, are the siluer Goates your men wore on
their sleeues.
Fr.
O how I loue thee Morgain Pigot our sweet prophet.
Llu.
Hence rogue with your prophesies, out of my sight.
Mered.
Nay good my lord, lets haue a few more of these
meeters, he hath great store in his head.
Nouice.
Yea, and of the best in the market,
And your Lordship would vouchsafe to heare them.
Lluellen.
Villaine away, ile heere no more of your prophesies.
Harper.
VVhen legs shall lose their length,
Returning wearie home, from out the holy land:
A VVelshman shall be king,
And gouerne merrie England.
Did I not tell your Lordship hee would hit it home anon?
Friar.
My Lord he comes to your time thats flat.
Nouice.
I maister and you marke him, he hit the marke pat.
Friar.
As how Iack?
Nou.
VVhy thus: when legs shall lose their length,
And shankes yeelde vp their strength:
Returning wearie home from out the holy land,
A VVelshman shall bee king,
And gouerne merrie England.
VVhy my Lord, in this prophesie, is your aduancement
as plainlie seene, as a three halfepence through a dishe of
butter in a sunnie daie.
Fri.
I thinke so lack for hee that sees three halfepence,
must tarrie till the butter be melted in the sunne, and so
foorth applie boie
Nouice.
Non ego maister, do you and you dare.
Lluel.
And so boy thou meanest, hee that tarries this
prophesie, may see Long shankes shorter by the head, and
Lluellen weare the crowne in the field.
Friar.
By ladie my Lord you go neere the matter,
But what saith Morgaine Pigote more?
Harper.
In the yeare of our lorde God 1272, shall
spring from the loines of Brute. one whose wiues name
being the perfect end of his ground, shal cōsummate the
peace betwixt England and VVales, and bee aduaunced
to ride through Cheapside with a crowne on his head,
and thats ment by your lordship, for your wiues name
being Ellen, and your owne Lluellen, beareth the perfect
end of your owne name: so must it needes bee, that for
a time Ellen flee from Lluellen, yee beeing betrothed in
heart each to others, must needes bee aduaunced to bee
highest of your kinne.
Lluel.
Iacke, I make him thy prisoner,
Looke what waie my fortune inclines,
That waie goes hee,
Sirra, see you runne swiftest.
Friar.
Farewell, be farre from the Spigote.
Exit.
Nouice.
Now sir, if our countrie Ale, were as good as
your Metheglen, I would teach you to play the knaue.
or you should teache me to play the Harper.
Harp.
Ambo, boye, you are too light witted,
As I am light minded.
Noui.
It seemed to me thou art fittest, and passing well.
Exeunt ambo.
Enter Guenther to Lluellen with letters.
Lluel.
What tidings bringeth Guenther with his haste?
Say man, what bodes thy message good or bad.
Guenther.
Bad my lord, and all in vaine I wot,
Thou darest thine eyes vpon the wallowing maine,
As erst did Aegen to behold his sonne,
To welcome and receiue thy welcome loue,
And sable sailes he saw, and so maist thou,
For whose mishap the Brackish seas lament,
Edward, ô Edward.
Lluel.
And what of him?
Guenther.
Landed he is at Douer with his men,
From Palestine safe by his English Lords,
Receiued in triumphes like an earthly God,
He liues to weare his fathers Diadem,
And sway the sworde of brittish Albion.
But Elinor, thy Elinor.
Lluellen.
And what of her?
Hath amorous Neptune gazd vpon my loue,
And stopt her passage with his forked mace:
Or that I rather feare, O deadly feare,
Enamoured Nereus dooth he withhold my Elinor?
Guenther.
Nor Neptune, Nereus nor other God,
Withholdeth from my gratious lord his loue,
But cruell Edward that iniurious king,
Withholds thy liefest louely Elinor,
By foure tall ships of Bristowe, and with her,
Lord Emerick her vnhappie noble brother,
As from Mont argis hetherward they saild;
This say in breefe these letters tell at large.
Lluellen reades his brother Dauids letters.
Lluel Is Longshankes then, so lustie now become,
Is my faire loue my beautions Elinor tane?
Villaine damnde villaines not to guard her safe,
Or fence her sacred person from her foes,
Sunne couldst thou shine and see my loue beset,
And didst not clothe thy cloudes in fierie coates,
Ore all the heauens with winged sulphure flames,
As when the beames like mounted combatants,
Battaild with Pyetion in the fallowed laies,
But if kinde Cambria deigne me good aspect,
To make me cheefest brute of westerne Wales,
Ile short that gainlegd Longshanke by the top,
And make his flesh my murthering fawchions foode:
To armes true Britaines sprong of Troians seede.
And with your swordes write in the booke of Time,
Your Brittish names in Characters of bloud.
Owen ap Rice, while we staie for further force,
Prepare awaie in poste, and take with thee,
A hundred chosen of thy countrimen,
And scowre the marches with your Welshmens hookes,
That Englishmen may thinke the diuellis come.
Rice shall remaine with me, make thou thy boade,
In resolution to reuenge these wronges,
With bloud of thousands guiltlesse of this rage,
Flie thou on them amaine: Edward, my loue
Be thy liues bane. Follow me countrimen,
VVords make no waie, my Elinor is surpriz'd,
Robd am I of the comfort of my life,
And know I this and am not veng'd on him?
Exit Lluellen, and the other lords.
Manet the Friar and Nouice.
Come boie we must buckle I see,
The prince is of my profession right:
Rather than he wil lose his wenche,
He will fight Ab ouo vsque ad mala.
Nouice.
O maister doubt you not but your Nouice
will prooue a whot shot, with a bottle of Metheglin.
Exeunt, ere the wenche fall into a Welsh song and the Friar aunswer, and the Nouice betweene.
Enter the nine lordes of Scotland, with their nine pages, Gloster, Sussex, king Edward in his sute of Glasse, Queene Elinor, Queene Mother, the King and Queene vnder a Canopie.
Long.
Nobles of Scotland, we thanke you all,
For this daies gentle princelie seruice done.
To Edward Englands king and Scotlands lord:
Our Coronations due sollemnitie,
Is ended with applause of all estates,
Now then let vs appose and rest vs heere,
But speciallie we thanke you gentle lords,
That you so well haue gouerned your greefes,
As being growne vnto a generall iarre,
You choose king Edward by your Messengers,
To calme, to qualifie, and to compound:
Thanke Britains strife of Scotlands climing peeres.
I haue no doubt faire lords but you well wot,
How factions waste the ritchest Commonwealth,
And discord spoiles the seates of mightie kings.
The Barons warres, a tragicke wicked warre,
Nobles how hath it shaken Englands strength?
Industriouslie it seemes to me you haue,
Loiallie ventured to preuent this shock,
For which sith you haue chosen me your iudge,
My lord, wil you stand to what I shall award?
Baliol.
Victorious Edward, to whom the Scottish kings
Owe homage as their lorde and soueraigne,
Amongst vs nine, is but one lawfull king:
Then should in Scotland be nine kings at once,
And this contention neuer set or limited,
To staie these iarres we iointlie make appeale,
To thy imperiall throne, who knowes our claimes,
We stand not on our titles before your grace,
But do submit our selues to your awarde,
And whome your Maiestie shall name to be our king,
To him weele yeeld obedience as a king,
Thus willinglie, and of their owne accorde,
Doth Scotland make great Englands king their iudge.
Long.
Then nobles since you all agree in one,
That for a crowne so disagree in all,
Since what I do shall rest inreuocable,
And louelie England to thy louely Queene,
Louelie Queene Elinor, vnto her turne thy eye,
Whose honor cannot but loue thee wel,
Holde vp your hands in sight, with generall voice,
That are content to stand to our award.
They all holde vp their handes, and say he shall.
Deliuer me the golden Diadem.
Loe here I holde the goale for which ye striued,
And heere behold my worthie men at armes,
For chiualrie and worthie wisdomes praise,
Worthie each one to weare a Diadem,
Expect my doome, as erst at Ida hilles,
The Goddesses deuine waited the award,
Of Danaes sonne: Balioll stand farthest forth,
Baliol behold I giue thee the Scottish crowne,
Weare it with heart and with thankfulnes:
Sound Trumpets, and say all after me,
God saue king Baliol the Scottish king.
The Trumpets sounds, all crie aloud, God saue King Baliol the Scottish king.
Thus lords though you require no reason why,
According to the conscience in the cause,
I make Iohn Balioll your anointed king:
That is in peace of Scotlands crowne possest.
Baliol.
Thankes roiall England for thy honor doone,
This iustice that hath calmd our ciuell strife:
Shall now be ceast with honourable loue,
So mooued of remorce and pittie,
We will erect a colledge of my name,
In Oxford will I build for memorie,
Of Baliols bountie and his gratitude:
And let me happie daies no longer see,
Then heere to England loyall I shall bee.
Elinor.
Now braue Iohn Balioll Lord of Gallaway,
And king of Scots shine with thy goulden head,
Shake thy speres in honour of his name,
Vnder whose roialtie thou wearst the same.
Queene Elinors speeche.
The welken spangled through with goulden spots,
Reflects no finer in a frostie night,
Then louely Longshankes in his Elinors eye:
So Ned thy Nell in euery part of thee,
Thy person's garded with a troope of Queenes,
And euery Queene as braue as Elinor,
Giue glorie to these glorious christall quarries,
Where euery robe an obiect entertaines,
Of riche deuice and princelie maiestie.
Thus like Narcissus diuing in the deepe,
I die in honour and in Englands armes:
And if I drowne, it is in my delight.
Whose companie is cheefest life in death,
From foorth whose currall lips I suck the sweete,
VVherewith are daintie Cupids candles made,
Then liue or die braue Ned, or sinke or swim,
An earthlie blisse it is to looke on him,
On thee sweete Ned, it shall become thy Nell,
Bounteous to be vnto the beauteous,
And I will stand on tiptoe for a kisse.
Long.
He had no thought of any gentle heart,
That would not seaze desire for such desart,
If any heauenly ioy in women be,
Sweet of all sweetes, sweete Nell it is in thee.
Now lords along by this the Earle of Marche,
Lord Mortimor ore Cambriaes mountaine tops,
Hath rang'd his men, and feeles Lluellens minde,
To which confines that well in wasting be,
Our sollemne seruice of coronation past,
We will amaine to backe our friends at neede,
And into Wales our men at armes shall march,
And we with them in person foote by foote.
Brother of Scotland, you shall to your home,
And liue in honour there faire Englands friend,
And thou sweet Nell Queene of king Edwards heart.
Shall now come lesser at thy daintie loue,
And at coronation meete thy louing peeres,
When stormes are past, and we haue coolde the rage
Of these rebellious Welshmen that contend,
Gainst Englands maiestie, and Edwards crowne.
Sound Trumpets Harolds lead the traine along,
This be king Edwards feast and hollie daie.
Exeunt.
Enter the Maris of London from Church, and Musicke before her.
Qu. Eli.
Glocester, who may this be, a bride or what?
I praie yee Ione goe see,
And know the reason of the harmonie.
Ione.
Good woman let it not ostend you any whit,
For to deliuer vnto me the cause,
That in this vnusuall kinde of sort,
You passe the streetes with musicke so.
Maris.
Mistres or Madam what ere you be,
Who for I haue beene deliuered of a sonne,
Hauing not these doozen yeares had any before,
Now in my husbands yeare of Mairoltie,
Bringing him a goodly boye,
I passe vnto my house a maiden bride,
Which priuate pleasure touching godlinesse,
Shall here no waye I hope offend the good.
Queene.
You hope so gentle mistres, do you indeed!
But doe not make it parcell of your creede.
Maris.
Alas I am vndone, it is the Queene,
The proudest Queene that euer England knew.
Exeunt Maris, & omnes.
Quee.
Come Gloster, lets to the court and reuel there.
Exeunt Glocester and the Queene.
Enter Meredeth, Dauid, and Lluellen.
Dauid.
Soft is it not Meredeth I behold?
Lluel.
All good, all friends: Meredeth see the man,
Must make vs great, and raise Lluellens head:
Fight thou Lluellen for thy friend and thee.
Mer.
Fight mauger fortune strong our battailes strong,
And beare thy foes before thy pointed launce.
Dauid.
Not too much prowesse good my lord at once.
Some talke of pollicie another while.
Mered.
How comes my lims hurt at this assault?
Lluel.
Hurt for our good, Meredeth make account,
Sir Dauids wit is full of good deuise,
And kindlie will performe what he pretends.
Dauid.
Enough of this my Lord at once,
What will you that I holde the king in hand,
Or what shall I especiallie aduize,
Sitting in counsell with the English lordes,
That so my counsell may auaile my friends?
Lluel.
Dauid if thou wilt best for me deuise,
Aduise my loue be rendered to my hand:
To tie Prometheus lims to Caucasus,
Nor furies phanges shal hold me long from her,
But I will haue her from the vsurpers tent,
My beautious Elinor: if ought in this,
If in this case thy wit may boote thy friends,
Expres it then in this, in nothing els.
Dauid.
I theres a Carde that puts vs to our trumpe,
For might I see the starre of Leisters loines,
It were enough to darken and obscure,
This Edwards glorie, fortune, and his pride:
First hereof can I put you out of doubt,
Lord Mortimor of the king hath her in charge,
And honourablie intreates your Elinor,
Some thinkes he praies Lluellen were in heauen,
And thereby hopes to coache his loue on earth.
Lluel.
No, where Lluellen mounts, there Ellen flies
Inspeakeable are my thoughts for her,
Shee is not from me in death to be diuorst.
Dauid.
Go to, it shall be so, so shall it be,
Edward is full resolued of thy faith,
So are the English lords and Barons all:
Then what may let thee to intrude on them,
Some new found stratagem to feele their wit,
It is enough: Meredeth take my weapons,
I am your prisoner, say so at the least,
Go hence, and when you parle on the walles,
Make shew of monstrous tirannie you intend,
To execute on me, as on the man,
That shamefullie rebels gainst kin and kinde:
And least thou haue thy loue, and make thy peace,
With such conditions as shall best concerne,
Dauid must die say thou a shamefull death,
Edward perhaps with ruthe and pittie moou'd,
Will in exchange yeelde Elinor to thee,
And thou by me shalt gaine thy hearts desire.
Lluel.
Sweetely aduized Dauid, thou blessest me,
Friends gratulate to me my ioyfull hopes.
Exeunt.
Enter Longshankes, Sussex, and others.
Long.
Why Barons, suffer yee our foes to breathe?
Assault, assault, and charge them all amaine,
They feare, they flie, they faint, they fight in vaine,
But where is gentle Dauid in his Den?
Loth were I ought but good should him betide.
Sound an Alarum.
On the walles enter Longshankes, Sussex, Mortimor, Dauid the Friar, Meredith holding Dauid by the collar, with a Dagger in his hande.
Long.
Where is the proude disturber of our state?
Traitor to Wailes, and to his Soueraigne.
Lluel.
Vsurper here I am, what doost thou craue.
Lon.
Welshman alleagance which thou owest thy king.
Lluel.
Traitor, no king, that seekes thy countries sack,
The famous runnagate of Christendome.
Long.
Ambitious rebell, knowest thou what I am,
How great, how famous, and how fortunate,
And darst thou carie armes against me here,
Euen when thou shouldst do reuerence at my feete?
Yea feard and honourd in the farthest parts,
Hath Edward beene, thy noble Henries sonne,
Traitor, this sworde vnsheathd hath shined oft,
VVith reeking in the bloud of Sarazens,
When like to Perseus on his winged steede,
Brandishing bright the bloud of Adamant,
That aged Saturne gaue faire Maias sonne,
Conflicting tho with Gorgon in the vale,
Setting before the gates of Nazareth,
Sending whole countries of heathen soules,
To Plutoes house: this sworde, this thirstie sworde,
Aimes at thy head, and shall I hope ere long,
Gage and deuide thy bowels and thy bulke,
Disloiall villaine thou, and what is more.
Lluel.
Why Longshankes, thinkst thou I will bee scarde with wordes?
No, didst thou speake in thunder like to Ione,
Or shouldst as Briareus shake at once,
A hundred bloudie swordes, with bloudie hands,
I tell thee Longshankes here he faceth thee,
VVhome nought can daunt, no not the stroke of death:
Resolu'd yee see: but see the chance of warre,
Knowst thou a traitor and thou seest his head,
Then Longshankes looke this villaine in the face:
This Rebell he hath wrought his countries wrack,
Base rascall, had and hated in his kinde,
Obiect of wrath, and subiect of reuenge.
Long.
Lluellen, calst thou this the chance of warre?
Bad for vs all pardie, but worse for him,
Courage sir Dauid, kings thou knowst must die,
And noble mindes all dastard feare defies.
Dauid.
Renowmed England, star of Edwards Globe,
My liefest lord and sweetest Soueraigne,
Glorious and happie is this chance to me,
To reape this fame and honour in my death,
That I was hewed with foule defiled hands,
For my beloued king and countries good,
And died in grace and fauour with my prince:
Seaze on me bloudie butchers with your pawes,
It is but temporall that you can inflict.
Long.
Brauelie resolu'd braue souldier by my life.
Friar.
Harke you sir, I am afeard you will not be so resolued,
by that time you knowe so much as I can showe
you, here be hote Dogges I can tell you, meanes to haue
the baiting of you.
Lluellen in the midst of all thy braues,
How wilt thou vse thy brother, thou hast tane,
Wilt thou let his maister ransome him?
Lluel.
No nor his mistres gallant Mortimor,
With all the golde and siluer of the land.
Mered.
Raunsome this Iudas to his fathers line,
Raunsome this traitor to his brothers life,
No take that earnest pennie of thy death,
This touche my lord comes nothing neere the marke.
Meredeth stabs him into the armes and shoulders.
Longsh.
O damned villaine holde thy hands,
Aske and haue.
Lluel.
We will nor ask nor haue, seest thou these tooles?
He showes him hote Pinsers.
These be the Dogges shall baite him to the death,
And shall by peecemeales teare his cursed flesh,
And in thy sight here shall he hang and pine.
Long.
O villains, traitors, how will I be vengd?
Lluel.
What threats thou Edward,
Desperate mindes contemne,
That furie menaceth, see thy words effects.
He cuts his nose.
Dauid.
O gratious heauens, dissolue me into claie,
This tirannie is more then flesh can beare.
Lon.
Beare it braue minde, sith nothing but thy bloud,
May satisfie in this extreame estate.
Sussex.
My lord it is in vaine to threaten them,
They are resolu'd yee see vpon his death.
Long.
Sussex, his death, they all shall buie it deare,
Offer them any fauour for his life,
Pardon, or peace, or ought what is beside:
So loue me God, as I regarde my friends.
Lluellen let me haue thy brothers life,
Euen at what rate and ransome thou wilt name.
Lluel.
Edward, king Edward, as thou list be termd,
Thou knowst thou hast my beautious Elinor,
Produce her forth, to plead for Dauids life,
Long.
VVilt thou exchange thy prisoner for thy loue?
Lluel.
Talke no more to me, let me see her face.
Morti.
VVhy, will your maiestie be all so base,
To stoope to his demaunds in euerie thing?
Long.
Fetch her at once, good Mortimor be gone.
Morti.
I go, but how vnwilling heauens doth know.
Mered.
A pace Mortimor if thou loue thy friend.
Morti.
I go for dearer then I leaue behinde.
Mortimor goes for Elinor, and conducts her in.
Long.
See Sussex how he bleedeth in my eye,
That beareth fortunes shocke triumphantlie.
Friar.
Saw haw, maister, I haue found, I haue found.
Lluel.
VVhat hast thou found Friar, ha?
Mered.
Newes my lord, a Star from out the Sea,
The same is risen, and made a sommers day.
Then Lluellen spieth Elinor and Mortimor, and saieth thus.
VVhat Nell, sweete Nell, doe I behold thy face?
Fall heauens, fleete stars, shine Phœbus lampe no more,
This is the Planet lends this world her light,
Starre of my fortune, this that shineth bright,
Queene of my heart, load starre of my delight,
Faire mould of beautie, miracle of fame,
O let me die with Elinor in mine armes:
VVhat honour shall I lend thy loialtie,
Or praise vnto thy sacred dietie.
Mered.
Marrie this my lord, if I may giue you counsel,
sacrifice this Tike in her sight, her friend, which beeing
done, one of your souldiers may dip his foule shirt in his
bloud, so shall you bee waited with as many crosses as
king Edward.
Long.
Good cheere sir Dauid, we shall vp anon.
Morti.
Die Mortimor, thy life is almost gone.
Eli.
Sweet prince of Wales, were I within thine armes,
Then should I in peace possesse my loue,
And heauens open faire their christall gates,
Long.
Lluellen set thy brother free,
Let me haue him, thou shalt haue Elinor.
Lluel.
Sooth Edward I do prize my Elinor,
Deerer then life, but there belongeth more
To these affaires, than my content in loue:
And to be short, if thou wilt haue thy man,
Of whome I sweare thou thinkest ouer well,
The safetie of Lluellen and his men,
Must be regarded highlie in this matche,
Say therefore and be short, wilt thou giue peace
And pardon to Lluellen and his men.
Long.
I will herein haue time to be aduizd.
Lluel.
King Edward no, we will admit no pause,
For goes this wretch, this traitor to the pot,
And if Lluellen be pursued so neere,
May chance to showe thee such a tumbling cast,
As erst our father, when he thought to scape,
And broke his neck from Iulius Cæsars towne.
Sussex.
My lord these rebels all are desperate.
Morti.
And Mortimor of all most miserable.
Longsh.
How say you Welshmen, will you leaue your armes,
And be true liegemen vnto Edwards crowne?
Al the Sold.
If Edward pardon surely what is past,
Vpon conditions we are all content.
Long.
Be like you will condition with vs then.
Sold.
Speciall conditions for our safetie first,
Aud for our countrie Cambrias common good,
T'auoide the fusion of our guiltie bloud.
Longsh.
Go to, say on.
Sold.
First for our followers and our selues and all,
We aske a pardon in the Princes word,
Then for this Lords possession in his loue:
But for our Countrie cheere these boones we beg,
And Englands promise princely to thy Wailes,
That none be Cambrias prince to gouerne vs,
Graunt this and sweare it on thy knightly sword,
And haue thy man, and vs, and all in peace.
Lluel.
Whie Cambria Britaines are you so incensed,
VVill you deliuer me to Edwards hands?
Solds.
No lord Lluellen we will backe for thee,
Thy life, thy loue, and golden libertie.
Morti.
A truce with honourable conditions tane,
VVales happines, Englands glorie, and my bane.
Long.
Commaund retreat be sounded in our campe,
Souldiers I graunt at full what you request,
Dauid good cheere, Lluellen open the gates.
Lluel.
The gates are opened, enter thee and thine.
Daui.
The sweetest sunne that ere I saw to shine.
Long.
Madam, a brabble well begun for thee,
Be thou my guest, and sir Lluellens loue.
Exeunt.
Mortimor
solus.
Mortimer, a brable ill begunne for thee,
A truce with capitall conditions tane:
A prisoner sau'd and raunsomd with thy life,
Edward my king, my Lord and louer deare,
Full little doost thou wot, how this retreat.
As with a sword, hath slaine poore Mortimor.
Farewell the flower the gem of beauties blaze,
Sweete Ellen, miracle of nature stand,
Fuellen in thy name, but heauen is in thy lookes,
Sweete Venus let me sainct or diuel be,
In that sweet heauen or hell that is in thee.
Exit.
Enter Iack and the Harper getting a standing against the Queene comes in.
The trumpets sound Queene Elinor in her litter borne by foure Negro Mores. Ione of Acon with her, attended on by the Earle of Glocester, and her foure footemen, one hauing set a ladder to the side of the litter, she descended and her daughter followeth.
Giue me my pantables.
Fie this hot wether how it makes me sweate,
Hey ho my heart, ah I am passing faint.
Giue me my fanne that I may coole my face,
Hold, take my maske but see you romple not,
This wind and dust see how it smolders me,
Some drinke good Gloster or I die for drinke,
Ah Ned thou hast forgot thy Nell I see,
That shee is thus inforst to follow thee.
Gloster.
This aires distemperature and please your maiesty
Noisome through mountains vapors send thick must,
Vnpleasant needes must be to you and your company,
That neuer was wont to take the aire,
Til Flora haue perfumde the earth with sweetes,
With lillies, roses, mints and Eglantine.
Qu. Eli.
I tel thee the ground is al to base,
For Elinor to honor with her steps:
Whose footepace when shee progrest in the streete,
Of Aecon and the faire Ierusalem,
Was nought but costly Arras points:
Faire Iland tapestrie and Azured silke,
My milke white steed treading on cloth of ray,
And trampling proudly vnderneath the feete,
Choise of our English wollen drapery.
This climat orelowring with blacke congealed clouds,
That takes their swelling from the marrish soile,
Fraught with infectious frogges and mistie dampes,
Is farre vnworthy to be once embalmd:
With redolence of this refreshing breath:
That sweetens where it lights as doe the flames,
And holy fires of Vestaes sacrifice.
Ione.
VVhose pleasant fields new planted with the spring,
Make Thamesis to mount aboue the bankes,
And like a wanton walloing vp and downe:
On Floras beds and Napees siluer downe.
Glo.
And wales for me Madame while you are here,
No Climate good vnlesse your grace be nere,
Or any precious thing in Glosters gift,
Whereof your ladiship would chalenge me.
Ione.
Well saide my lord tis as my mother saies,
You men haue learnd to woe a thousande waies.
Gloster.
O madame had I learned against my neede,
Of all those waies to woo one way to speede,
My cunning then had beene my fortunes guide.
Q. Eli.
Faith Ione I thinke thou must be Glosters bride,
Good Earle how neare he steps vnto her side,
So soone this eie these younglings had espide,
Ile tel thee girle when I was faire and young:
I found such honny in sweete Edwards tongue,
As I could neuer spend one idle walke,
But Ned and I would peece it out with talke.
So you my Lord when you haue got your Ione,
No matter let Queene mother be alone.
Old Nell is mother now and grandmother may,
The greenest grasse doth droupe and turn to hay,
Woo one kinde Clarke, good Gloster loue thy Ione,
Her heart is thine, her eies is not her owne.
Gl.
This comfort Madam that your grace doth giue
Binds me in double duety whilst I liue,
Would God King Edward see and say no lesse.
Qu. Eli.
Gloster I warrant thee vppon my life,
My King vouchsafs his daughter for thy wife,
Sweet Ned hath not forgot since he did woo,
The gal of loue and al that longs thereto.
Glost.
Why was your grace so coie to one so kinde?
Qu. Eli.
Kinde Gloster so me thinks in deede,
It seemes he loues his wife no more then needs,
That sends for vs in al the speedy hast,
Knowing his Queene to be so great with childe,
And make me leaue my princely pleasant seates,
To come into his ruder part of wales.
Gl.
His highnes hath some secrete reason why,
He wisheth you to moue frō Englands pleasant courts
That when the warre of rebels sorts an end:
None might be prince and ruler ouer them,
But such a one as was their countriman,
VVhich sure I thinke his grace hath graunted them.
Qu. Eli.
So then it is king Edwards pollicie,
To haue his sonne, forsooth sonne if it be,
A VVelshman, well welshman it liketh me,
And heere he comes.
Enter Edward Longshankes and his lords, to the Queene and her footmen.
Longsh.
Nell, welcome into VVales,
How fares my Elinor?
Qu. Eli.
Neare worse, beshrow their harts tis long on.
Long.
Harts sweet Nell, shrow no harts,
VVhere such sweete saints doe dwell.
He holds her hand fast.
Qu. Eli.
Nay then I see I haue my dreame, I pray let go,
You will not will you whether I will or no?
You are disposed to mooue me.
Longsh.
Say any thing but so:
Once Nell thou gauest me this.
Qu Eli.
I pray let go, yee are disposed I thinke.
Long.
I madame verie well
Qu. El.
Let go and be naught I say.
Longsh.
VVhat ailes my Nell?
Qu. Eli.
Aie me, what sodaine fits is this I prooue;
What griefe, what pinching paine, like youngmens loue,
That makes me madding run thus too and froe?
Longsh.
VVhat, mallencollie Nell?
Qu. Eli.
My lord pray let me go,
Giue me sweet water, why how whote it is?
Glost.
These be the fits, trouble mens wits.
Long.
Ione aske thy beautious Mistres how she dooth.
Ione.
How fares your maiestie?
Ione agreeu'd at the hart and angered worse,
Because I came not right in,
I thinke the King comes purposely to spite me,
My fingers itche till I haue had my will,
Proud Edward call in thy Elinor be still,
It will not be, nor rest I any where:
Till I haue set it soundly on his eare.
Ione.
Is that the matter then let me alone.
Qu. Elin.
Fie how I fret with greefe.
Long.
Come hither Ione, knowest thou what ailes my Queene?
Ione.
Not I my lord, shee longs I thinke to giue your grace a boxe on theare.
Long.
Nay wench if that be al weele eare it wel,
What all a mort how doth my dainty Nell?
Looke vp sweete loue, vnkind, not kisse me once?
That may not be.
Qu. Eli.
My lord I thinke you doe it for the nonce.
Long.
Sweet heart one kisse.
Qu. Eli.
For Gods sake let me go.
Long.
Sweet heart a kisse.
Qu. Eli.
What, whether I will or no? you will not leaue? let be I say?
Long.
I must be better chidde.
Qu. Eli.
No wil? take that then lusty lord, Sir leaue when you are bidde.
Long.
Why so this chare is charde.
Gloster.
A good one by the roode,
Qu. Eli.
No force no harme.
Long.
No harme that doth my Elinor any good.
Learne lords gainst you be maried men to bow to womens yoke:
And sturdy though you be you may not stur for euery stroke:
Now my sweet Nell how doth my Queene?
Qu. Eli.
Shee vaunts that mighty England hath felt her fist:
And vaunt shee may good leaue being curst and coy,
Lacke nothing Nell whilst thou hast brought thy lorde a louely boie.
Veniacion I am sicke good Katherina I pray thee be at hand.
Kath. Spain.
This sickenes I hope wil bring King Edward a iollie boy.
Longsh.
And Katherin who brings me that newes shal
not goe emptie handed.
Exite omnes.
Enter Mortimor, Lluellen and Meredith.
Mortimor.
Farewel Lluellen with thy louing Nell.
Exit Mortimor.
Lluellen.
Godamercy Mortimor and so farewel.
Mere.
Farewel and behangde half Sinons sapons brood
Lluellen.
Good words Sir Rice wronges haue best remedy,
So taken with time patience and pollicy.
But where is the Friar who can tel?
Enter Friar.
That can I maister very wel,
And saie I faith what hath befel:
Must we at once to heauen or hel?
Elinor.
To heauen Frier, Frier no fie,
Such heauie soules mount not so hie.
Friar
lies downe.
Then Frier lie thee downe and die.
And if any aske the reason why,
Answere and say thou canst not tel,
Vnles because thou must to hel.
Eli.
No Frier because thou didst rebel,
Gentle Sir Rice ring out thy knel.
Lluellen.
And Maddocke towle thy passing bel.
So there lies a strawe, and now to the law maisters and
friends, naked came we into the worlde naked are woe
mee saie Masse, me thinkes we are a handsome Common-wealth,
a handful of goodfellowes, set a sunning
to dog on our own discretion, what say you Sir? we are
enough to keepe a passage, will you be ruled by mee?
weele get the next daie from Brecknocke the booke of
Robin Hood, the Frier he shal instruct vs in his cause and
weele euen here fair and well since the king hath put vs
amongst the discarding cardes, and as it were ruined vs
with deuces and traies out of the decke, euerie man
take his standing on Manmocke deny and wander like irregulers
vp and down the wildernesse, ile be maister of
misrule, ile be Robin Hood that once, cousin Rice thou
shalt be little Iohn, and hers Frier Dauid as fit as a die for
Frier Tucke, now my sweet Nel if you wil make vp the
messe with a good heart for Maide marian and doe well
with Lluellen vnder the greene wood trees, with as good
a wil as in the good townes, why plena est curia.
Eli.
My sweetest loue aud this my infracte fortune
could neuer vaunt har soueraignty, and shouldest
thou passe the foorde of Phlegeton, or with Leander win
the Hellispont in deserts, Oenophrius euer dwell, or
builde thy bowre on Aetnas fierie tops, thy Nel would
follow thee and keepe with thee, thy Nel would feede
with thee and sleepe with thee.
Friar.
O Cupido quantus quaintus.
Mere.
Brauelie resolude Madam and then what rests
my Lord Robin but we will liue and die together like
Chamber Britaines, Robin Hood, little Iohn, Frier Tucke,
and Maide marrian.
Llue.
There rests nothing now cosin but that I sell my
chaine to set vs all in greene and weele al play the Pioners
to make vs a caue and Cabban for al weathers.
Eli.
My sweete Lluellen though this sweet bee gal,
Patience doth conquer me by out suffering al.
Frier.
Now Manmocke deny I hold thee a peny,
Thou shalt haue neither sheep nor goate:
VVhere euer Iacke my Nouice iet.
Al is fishe with him that comes to net,
Dauid this yeare thou paiest no dette.
Exeunt ambo.
Enter Mortimor solus.
Mortimor.
VVhy Frier is it so plaine in deede,
Lluellen art thou flatly so resolude.
To roist it out and roust so neare the king:
What shal we haue a passage kept in wales:
For men at armes and knights aduenturous?
By cocke Sir Rice I see no reason why,
Young Mortimor should make one among:
And play hi, part on Manmocke dying here,
For loue of his beloued Elinor:
His Elinor where she his I wott,
The bitter Northern winde vppon the plaines:
The dampes that rise from out the quechy plots:
Nor influence of contagious aire should touch,
But shee should court yet with the prondest dames,
Rich in attire and sumptuous in her fare.
And take her ease in beds of safest Downe,
Why Mortimor may not thy offers moue,
And win sweet Elinor from Lluellens loue,
Why plesant gold and gentle eloquence,
Haue tyset the chasest Nimphs the fairest dames,
And varts of words, delights of wealth and ease,
Haue made a Nunne to yeelde Lluellens,
Being set to see the last of desperate chance,
Why should so faire a starre stand in a vale?
And not be seene to sparkle in the skie,
It is enough Ione change his glittering robes:
To see Mennosyne and the flies:
Maisters haue after gentle Robinhood,
You are not so wel accompanied I hope:
Youle giue him stripes or welcome good or worse:
Goe Mortimor and make their loue holidaies,
The king wil take a common scuse of thee,
And who hath more men to attend then Mortimor.
Exit Mortimor.
Enter Lluellen, Meredith, Frier, Elinor, and their traine.
They are all clad in greene &c. sing &c. Blith and bonny, the song ended Lluellen speaketh.
Lluellen.
Why so, I see my mates of olde,
All were not lies that Bedlams told:
Of Robin Hood and little Iohn,
Frier Tucke and Maide marian.
Frier.
I forsooth maister.
Lluellen.
How well they coucht in forrest green,
Frolike and liuelie with oaten teene:
And spent their daie in game and glee,
Lluellen doe seeke if ought please thee,
Nor though thy foot be out of towne,
Let thine looke blacke on Edwards Crowne.
Nor thinke this greene is not so gaie,
As was the golden rich array:
And if sweete Nel my Marrian,
Trust me as I am Gentleman:
Thou art as fine in this attire:
As fine and fitte to my desire,
As when of Leisters Hal and bowre,
Thou wert the rose and sweetest flowres
How saist thou Frier say I wel?
For anie thing becomes my Nell.
Frier.
Neuer made man of a woman borne,
A Bullockes taile a blowing horne,
Nor can an Asses hide disguise,
Eli.
My Lord, the Frier is wondrous wise.
Lluellen.
Beleeue him for he tels no lies,
But what doth little Iohn deuise?
Meredith.
That Robin Hood beware of spies,
An aged saying and a true,
Blacke wil take no other hue.
He that of old hath beene thy foe:
Wil die but wil continue so.
Frier.
O maisters, whither shal we, doth anie liuing creature knowe?
Lluellen.
Rice and I wil walke the round,
Frier see about the ground.
Enter Mortimor.
And spoile what praie is to be found,
My loue I leaue within in trust,
Because I knowe thy dealing iust:
Come Potter come and welcome to,
Fare as we fare and doe as we doe.
Exit Lluellen & Meredith.
Frier.
Nell adiew we goe for newes,
A little serues the Friers lust,
When nolens volens tast I must
Maister at al that you refuse.
Mortimor.
Such a porter would I choose,
When I meane to blinde a skule,
While Robin walke with little Iohn,
The Frier wil licke his marrian.
So wil the Porter if he can.
Eli.
Now Frier sith your lord is gone,
And you and I are left alone,
What can the Frier doe or saie,
To passe the wearie time away?
Wearie God wot poore wench to thee,
That neuer thought these daies to see.
Mortimor.
Breake heart and split mine eies in twaine,
Neuer let me heare those wordes againe.
What can the Frier doe or saie?
To passe the wearie time awaie:
More dare I doe then he dare saie,
Because he doubts to haue away.
Eli.
Doe somewhat Frier saie or sing,
That may to sorrowes solace bring,
And I meane while wil Garlands make.
Morti.
O Mortimor were it for thy sake,
A Garland were the happiest stake:
That euer this hand vnhappie drew.
Frier.
Mistres shal I tel you true,
I haue a song I learnd it long agoe,
I wot not whether yole like it wel or ill,
Tis short and sweete but somewhat brolde before,
Once let me sing it and I aske no more.
Eli.
What Frier will you so indeede,
Agrees it somewhat with your neede?
Frier.
Why mistres shal I sing my creede,
Eli.
Thats fitter of the two at neede.
Morti.
O wench how maist thou hope to speede?
Frier.
O mistres out it goes.
Looke what comes next the Frier throes.
The Frier sittes along and singes.
Morti.
Such a sitting who euer saw,
An Eagles bird of a Iacke dawe.
Eli.
So Sir is this all?
Morti.
Sweete heart heres no more.
Eli.
How now good fellow more indeede,
By one then was before.
Frier.
How now the diuel in steede of a dittie.
Morti.
Frier a dittie come late from the cittie,
To aske some pitty of this lasse so pretty:
Some pitty sweete mistres I praie you.
Eli.
How now Frier where are we now and you play not the man?
Friend Copes mate, you that come late from the Cittie,
To aske some pittie of this lasse so prettie,
In likenes of a doleful dittie,
Hang me if I doe not paie yee.
Mortimor.
O Frier you grow chollericke, wel yole
Haue no man to Court your mislers but your selfe,
On my word ile take you downe a botton hole,
Frier.
Ye talk, ye talke childe.
Enter Lluellen and Meredith.
Lluellen.
Tis wel potter you fight in a good quarrel,
Meredith.
Mas this blade wil holde let mee see then Frier.
Frier.
Mines for mine owne turne I warrant, giue him
his Tooles, rise and lets to it, but no change and if you
loue me, I skorne the oddes I can tel you, see faire play
and you be Gentlemen.
Lluellen.
Mary shal we Frier, let vs see, be their staues
of a length good, so now let vs deeme of the matter Frier
and Potter without more clatter I haue cast your
water, and see as deepe into your desire, as he that hadde
dined euerie day into your bosome, O Frier wil nothing
serue your turne but Larkes.
None but my Marian can serue your turne.
Eli.
Cast water, for the house wil burne.
Frier.
O mistres mistres flesh is fraile,
Ware when the signe is in the taile,
Mightie is loue and doth preuaile.
Lluellen.
Therefore Frier shalt thou not faile,
But mightily your foe assaile:
And thrush this Potter with thy flaile,
And Potter neuer raue nor raile,
Nor aske questions what I aile:
But take this toole and doe not quaile,
They take the Flailes.
And make him sing a dastards note,
And crie Peccaus miserere Dauid.
In amo amari: Goe to.
Mortimor.
Strike, strike.
Frier.
Strike Potter be thou liefe or loth,
And if youle not strike ile strike for both.
Potter
strikes.
He must needs go that the diuel driues
Then Frier beware of other mens wiues.
Frier
strikes.
I wish maister proud Potter the Diuell haue my soule:
But ile make my flaile circumscribe your noule.
Lluellen.
Why so, now it cottens, now the game beginnes.
One knaue currieth another for his sinnes.
Frier
kneeles.
O maister shorten my offences in mine eies:
If this Crucifige doe not suffice,
Send me to Heauen in a hempen sacrifice.
Mortimor
kneeles.
O maisters maisters let this bee warning:
The Frier hath infected me with his learning.
Lluellen.
Villains do not touch the forbidden haire now to delude, or to dishonor me.
Frier.
O maister, quæ negata sunt grata sunt.
Lluellen.
Rice euery day thus shal it be, weele haue a
thrashing set among the Friers, and he that of these chalengers
laies on slowest loade, be thou at hand Rice to
gore him with thy gode.
Frier.
A Potter Potter the Frier may rue,
That euer this day this our quarrel he knew:
My pate adle, mine armes blacke and blue.
Potter.
Ah Frier who may his fates force eschew,
I thinke Frier you are prettilie scholde.
Frier.
And I thinke the Potter is handsomlie coold.
Exeunt ambo.
No Mortimor here that Eternal fire,
That burnes and flames with brands of hot desire:
Why Mortimor, why doest thou not discouer,
Thy selfe her knight her liegeman and her louer?
Exit Mortimor.
Enter Iohn Balioll, King of Scots with his traine.
Lords of Albana, and my peeres in France,
Since Balioll is inuested in his rights,
And weares the roial Scottish Diadem,
Time is to rouze him that the world may wotte,
Scotland disdaines to carrie Englands yoke.
Therefore my friends thus put in readines,
Why slacke we time to greete the English king?
With resolute message to let him know our minds,
Lord Versses though thy faith and oath be tane,
To follow Baliols armes for Scotlands right,
Yet is thy heart to Englands honor knit,
Therefore in spite of England and thy selfe,
Beare thou defiaunce proudly to thy king,
Tel him Albania findes heart and hope,
To shake on Englands tiranny be time,
To reskue Scotlands honor with his sword,
Lorde Bruze see cast about Versses necke,
A strangling halter that he minde his hast.
How safest thou Versses wilt thou doe this message?
Versses.
Although no common post, yet for my king
I wil to England maugre Englands might,
And doe mine arrand boldly as becomes,
Albeit I honor English Edwards name,
And hold thir slauish contemnment to skorne.
Balioll.
Then hie away as swift as swallow flies,
And meete me on our rodes on Englands ground,
We there thinke of thy message and thy hast.
Sound Trumpets.
Exit Balioll.
Longsh.
Now haue I leasure Lords to bid you welcome into Wales.
Welcome sweet Edmund to christen thy young nephew
And welcome Crossingham, giue me thy hand,
But Sussex what became of Mortimor?
We haue not seene the man this manie a daie.
Sussex.
Before your highnes rid frō hence to Northam.
Sir Roger was a suter to your Grace,
Touching faire Elinor Lluellens loue,
And so be like denide with discontent,
A discontinues from your Roial presence.
Longsh.
Why Sussex saide we not for Elinor,
So she would leaue whom she had loued too long,
Shee might haue fauour with my Queene and me,
But man, her minde aboue her fortune mounts,
And thats a cause she failes in her accounts.
But goe with me my lord of Lancaster.
We will goe see my beatuous louely Queene,
That hath inricht me with a goodly bore.
King Edward, Edmund, and Gloster, goes into the Queenes, Chamber, the Queenes Tent opens, shee is discouered in her bed, attended by Mary Dutches of Lancaster Ioue of Acon her daughter & the Queen donates his young sonne.
Longsh.
Ladies by your leaue, how doth my Nell, mine
owne, my loue, my life, my heart, my deare, my
doue, my Queene, my wife.
Elinor.
Ned art thou come, sweet Ned welcome my ioy.
Thy Nell presents thee with a louely boy.
Kisse him, and christen him after thine owne name.
Hey ho whom doe I see, my lord of Lancaster, welcome hartely.
I thanke your grace, sweet Nell wel mette
withall.
Q. Eli.
Brother Emund hers a kinsman of yours you
must neede be acquainted.
Edmund.
A goodly boy God blesse him, giue mee
your hand Sir, you are welcome into Wales.
Qu. Eli.
Brother thers a fist I warrant you wil holde a
Mace as fast as euer did father or grandfather before
him.
Longsh.
But tel in now lapt in Lillie bands,
How with my Queen, my louely boie it stands:
After thy iourney and these childbed paines.
Qu. Eli.
Sicke mine owne Ned thy Nell for thy companie:
That lured her with thy lies all so farre,
To follow thee vnweldie in thy warre,
But I forgiue thee Ned my lims delight:
So thy young sonne thou see be brauelie dight,
And in Carnaruan christened roiallie.
Sweet loue let him be lapt most curiouslie,
He is thine owne, as true as he is thine,
Take order then that he be passing fine.
Longsh.
My louelie Ladie let that care be lesse,
For my young sonne the countrey will I feast:
And haue him borne as brauely to the funt;
As euer yet Kings sonne to Christning went.
Lacke thou no precious thing to comfort thee,
Dereare then Englands Diadem unto me.
Qu. Eli.
Thankes gentle Lord, nurse rocke the Cradle, fie:
The King so neare, and here the boie to crie?
Ione take him vp and sing a Lullabie.
Longsh.
Tis wel beleeue me wench godamercie Ione,
Edmund.
Shee learnes my Lord to lull a young one of her owne.
Qu. Eli.
Giue me some drinke.
Longsh.
Drinke Nectar my sweete Nell,
Eli.
Gramercis Ned, now wel remembred yet,
I haue a suite sweete lord, but you must not denie it,
Whereas my Lord of Gloster, good Clare mine host, my guide,
Good Ned let Ione of Acon be his bride,
Assure your selfe that they are throughly wooed.
Longsh.
God send the King be taken in the mood,
Then Neece tis like that you shall haue a husband,
Come hither Gloster hold giue her thy hand,
Take her, sole daughter to the Queene of England.
Longsh. giues her to Gloster.
For newes hee brought Nell of my young sonne,
I promist him as much as I haue done.
Gloster and Ione hand in hand.
We humbly thanke your maiestie.
Edmund.
Much ioy may them betide,
A gallant bridegrome and a princely bride.
Longsh.
Now say sweete Queene what doth my Lady craue?
Tell me what name shal this young Welshman haue.
Borne Prince of wales by Cambrias full consent.
Eli.
Edward the name, that doth me wel content,
Longsh.
Then Edward of Carnaruan shal he be,
And Prince of Wales christned in roialtie.
D. Edmund.
My Lord I thinke the Queene woulde take a nappe,
Ione.
Nurse take the childe and hold in your lappe,
Longsh.
Farewell good Ione be careful of my Queen.
Sleep, Nell, the fairest Swan mine eies haue seene.
They close the Tent.
D. Edmund.
I had forgot to aske your Maiesty.
How doe you with the Abbies here in Wales.
Longsh.
As kings with rebels Mun, our fight preuails,
We haue good Robin Hood and little Iohn,
Why our Lluellen is a mightie man.
Gloster.
Trust me my Lord, me thinks twere very good
That some good fellowes went and scourd the wood,
And take in hand to cudgell Robin Hood.
I thinke the Frier for all his lusty lookes,
Nor Robin rule with their gleames and hookes,
But would be quickely driuen to the nookes.
Dauid.
I can assure your highnes what I knowe,
The false Lluellen will not runne nor goe
Or giue an inche of ground come man for man,
Nor that proude rebel called little Iohn,
To him that welds the massiest sword of England,
Gloster.
Welshman, how wilt thou that we vnderstand,
But for Lluellen, Dauid I denie,
England hath men will make Lluellen flie,
Maugre his beard and hide him in a hole,
VVearie of Englands dints and manly dole.
D. Edm.
Gloster, grow not so hot in Englands right,
That paints his honor out in euerie sight.
Long.
By Gis faire Lords ere many daies be past,
England shall giue this Robin Hood his breakefast.
Dauid, be secrete friend to that I saie,
And if I vse thy skill thou knowest the waie.
VVhere this proude Robin and his yeomen rome.
Dauid.
I do my Lord and blindfold thither can I run.
Longsh.
Dauid enough, as I am a Gentleman,
Ile haue one merrie flirt with little Iohn,
And Robin Hood, and his Maide marrian,
Be thou my counsell and my companie,
And thou maist Enlands resolution see.
Enter Sussex before the foure Barons of Wales.
Sussex.
May it please your maiestie, here are 4. good
Squires of the Cantreds where they do dwell, come in
the name of the whole countrey to gratulate vnto your
most humble seruice to your young sonne their Prince,
whom they most heartely beseech God to blesse with
long life and honor.
Longsh.
Wel said Sussex I pray bid them come neare,
Sir Dan trust me, this is kindly don of your cuntrey me.
Dauid.
Villains, Traitors to the ancient glory and renowne
of Cambria, Morris Vaghan art thou there, and
thou proude Lord of Anglesee.
They kneele downe.
Enter Sussex ith the foure Barrons of Wales, with the Mantle of frise.
Mantle Barrons.
The poore countrey of Cambria by
vs vnworthie messengers, gratulats to your maiesty the
birth of your young sonne Prince of Wales, and in this
poore prest exprest their most zealous duetie and affection,
which with all humblenes we present to your
highnes sweete and sacred hands.
Longsh.
Gramercis Barons for your giftes and good
wils, by this means my boie shal weare a Mantle of cuntries
weauing to keepe him warm, and liue for Englands
hor or and Cambrias good, I shall not neede I trust curteously
to inuite you, I doubt not Lords but you wil be
all in readines to waite on your young Prince and doe
him honor at his christning.
Sussex.
The whole countrey of Cambria round about
all wel horst, and attended on both men and women in
their best array, are come downe to doe seruice of loue
and honour to our late born Prince, your Maiesties son
and honnie, the men and women of Sowdone especially
haue sent in great abundance of cattle & corn enough by
computacion for your highnes housheld a whole month
and more.
Long.
We thank them all, and wil present our Q with
these curtesies and presents bestowed on her yong Son,
and greatly account you for our frends.
Exit 4 Barons.
Elinor.
VVho talketh there?
Longsh.
A friend Madam.
Ione.
Madam it is the King.
Elinor.
VVelcome my Lord hey ho what haue wee there?
Longsh.
Madam the countrey in all kindnes and duty
recommend their seruice and good will to your sonne
and in token of their pure good will, presents him by vs
with a mantle of frize richlie lined to keepe him warm.
Q. Elinor.
A mantle of frize, fie fie for Gods sake let
me here no more of it and if you loue me, fie my lorde is
this the wisedome and kindnes of the countrey? now I
commend me to them all, and if VVales haue no more
witte or manners, then to cloath a Kings sonne in frize
I haue a mantle in store for my boie, that shall I trowe
make him shine like the sonne, and prefume the streetes
where he comes.
Longsh.
In good time Madam, he is your own, lappe
him as you list, but I promise thee Nell I would not for
tenne thousand pounds the countrey should take vnkindnes
at thy wordes.
Q. Elinor.
Tis no maruaile sure, you haue beene roially
receaued at their handes, no Ned, but that thy Nell
doth want of her will, her boie should glister like the
Sommers Sunne in robes as rich as Ioue when hee triumphes.
His food Ambrosia no earthlie womans milke,
Sweete fires of Sinamon to open him by,
The Graces on his craddle should attend,
Venus should make his bed and waite on him,
And Phebus daughter sing him still a sleepe.
Thus would I haue my boie vsed as deuine,
Because he is king Edwardes sonne and mine.
For God sake laie it vp charilie, and perfume it against
winter, it will make him a goodly warme Christemas
coate.
Longsh.
Ah Mun my brother, dearer then my life,
How this proude honor slaies my heart with griefe.
Sweete Queene how much I pittie the effects,
This Spanish pride grees not with Englands prince,
Milde is the mind where honor builds his bowre,
And yet is earthlie honor but a flowre.
Fast to those lookes are all my fancies tide,
Pleasde with thy sweetnes, angry with thy pride.
Qu. Eli.
Fie fie me thinkes I am not where I shoulde bee,
Or at the least I am not where I would be.
Longsh.
VVat wants my Queene to perfecte her content,
But aske and haue the King will not repent.
Qu. Eli.
Thankes gentle Edward, lordes haue at you then,
Haue at you all long bearded Englishmen,
Haue at you lords and ladies when I craue,
To giue your English pride a Spanish braue.
Longsh.
VVhat meanes my Queene Gloster, this is a Spanish fitte.
Qu. Eli.
Ned thou hast graunted and canst not reuoke it.
Longsh.
Sweete Queene saie on my worde shall bee my deede.
Qu. Elinor.
Then shal my wordes make many a bosom bleede
Reede Ned thy Queenes request lapt vp in rime,
And saie thy Nell had skil to choose her time.
Read the paper Rice.
The pride of Englishmens long haire,
Is more then Englands Queene can beare:
VVomens right breast cut them off al,
Longsh.
VVhat meanes my louelie Elinor by this?
Qu. Elinor.
Not be denide for my request it is.
The rime is, that mens beards and womens breasts bee caste off &c.
D. Edmund.
Gloster, an olde said saying, he that grants all is askt,
Is much harder then Hercules taske.
Glost.
VVere the King so mad as the Queen is wood,
Here were an end of Englands good.
Long.
My word is past I am well agreede,
Let mens beards milt and womens bosomes bleed.
Call foorth my Barbers, Lords weele first beginne.
Enter two Barbers.
Come sirra cutte me close vnto the chinne,
And round me euen seest thou by a dishe,
Leaue not a locke my Queene shall haue her wishe.
Qu. Eli.
VVhat Ned, those locks that euer pleasd thy Nel?
VVere her desire, where her delight doth dwell,
VVilt thou deface that siluer laborinth?
More orient then pimpilde Hyancinth,
Sweete Ned, thy sacred person ought not droupe,
Though my command make other gallants stoupe.
Longsh.
Madam, pardon me and pardon all,
No iustice but the great runnes with the small.
Tell me good Gloster art thou not affeard?
Gloster.
No my Lord but resolude to lose my bearde.
Longsh.
Now Madam if you purpose to proceede,
To make so many guiltles Ladies bleede.
Here must the law begin, sweete Elinor at thy breast,
And strech it selfe with violence to the rest,
Else Princes ought no other doe,
Faire ladie, then they would be done vnto.
Qu. Eli.
VVhat logick cal you this, doth Edward mock his loue?
Longsh.
No Nell he doth as best in honor doth behoue,
And praies thee gentle Queene, and let my praies moue,
Sweet lookes, not loftie, ciuil mood becomes a womans kinde:
And liue as being dead, and buried in the ground,
Thou maist for affability and honor be renownde.
Qu. Elin.
Naie and you preach, I pray my lord begon,
The childe will crie and trouble you anon.
The Nurse closeth the Tent.
Quo semel est imbuta recens seruabit odorem Testa diu.
L. Maris.
Proud incest in the craddle of disdaine,
Bred vp in court of pride, brought vp in Spaine,
Doest thou command him coily from thy sight?
That is the starre, the glorie of thy sight.
Longsh.
O could I with the riches of my crowne,
Buy better thoughts for my renowmed Nel,
Thy minde sweete Queen should be as beautifull,
As is thy face, as is thy features all.
Fraught with pure honor, treasure, and enricht,
VVith vertues and glorie incomparable.
Ladies about her Maiestie, se that the Queen your mother
know not so much, but at any hand our pleasure is,
that our young sonne be in this Mantle borne to his
Christening, for speciall reasons is thereto mouing, from
the Church has best it please your womens wittes to deuise,
yet sweete Ione see this faithfullie perfourmed, and
heare you daughter, looke you be not last vp when this
day coms, least Gloster find another Bride in your steed,
Dauid goe with me.
Gloste.
Shee riseth earelie Ione, that beguileth thee of a Gloster.
Edmund.
beleeue him not sweete Neece, wemen can
speake smooth for aduantage.
Ione.
VVe men doe you mean my good vnckle?
VVell be the accent where it will women are women, I
will beleeue you for as great a matter as this comes to my lord.
Glost.
Gramercies sweet ladie, & habebis fiàei mercedem
contrà,
Exite.
Nouice.
Come fellowes, cast your selues euen round
in a string, a ring I would say, come merelie on my word
for the Queene is most liberall, and if you will please
her well shee wil paie you roially, so lawful to braue wel
thy Brittishe lustilie, to solace our good Queene God
saue her Grace, and giue our young Prince a carpell in
their kinde, come on come on set your crouds and beate
your heads together and behaue you handsomelie.
Here they sing.
Enter the Frier Dauid alone.
Frier.
I haue a budget in my nose this gaie morning,
and now wil I trie how clarkly the Frier can behaue him
selfe, tis a common fashion to get golde with stand, deliuer
your purses, Frier Dauies wil once in his daies get
money by witte, there is a rich Farmer should passe this
waies to receaue a round summe of money, if hee come
to me the money is mine, and the law shall take no vantage,
I wil cut off the law as the hangman would cutte a
man downe when he hath shaken his heeles halfe an hour
vnder the gallowes, wel I must take some pains for this
golde, and haue at it.
The Frier spreads the lappet of his gowne and fals to dice.
Enter a Farmer.
Farmer.
Tis an olde saide saying I remember I redde
it in Catoes Pueriles, that Cantabit vaenus coram latrone
viator. A mans purse pennilesse may sing before a thiefe,
true as I haue not one pennie, which makes me so peartly
passe through these thickets, but indeede I receaue a
hundred marks, and al the care is how I shal passe againe,
to be so well accompanied that I will not care for these
ruffelers.
Frier.
Did euer man play with such vncircumcised
handes, sice ace to eleuen and lose the chaunce.
Farmer.
God speed good fellow, why chafest thou so
fast, thers no body will win thy money from thee.
Frier.
Sounds you offer me miury Sir to speake in my
cast.
Farmer.
The Frier vndoubtedly is lunaticke, I pray
thee good fellow leaue chaffing, and get some warme
drinke to comfort thy braines.
Frier.
Alas Sir I am not lunaticke, tis not so well, for
I haue lost my money which is farre worse, I haue lost
fiue golde Nobles to S Francis, and if I knew where to
meete with his receauer I would paie him presently.
Farmer.
Wouldest thou speake with S. Francis receauer?
Friar.
O Lord, I Sir full gladlie.
Farmer.
Why man I am S. Francis receauer, if you
would haue anie thing with him.
Frier.
Are you S. Francis receauer, Iesus, Iesus, are
you S. Francis receauer, and how does all?
Farmer.
I am his receauer, and am now going to him,
abids S. Thomas a Waterings to breakefast this morning
to a calfes head and bacon.
Frier.
Good Lord Sir I beseech you carrie him these
fiue Noble, and tell him I deale honestlie with him as
if he were here present.
Farmer.
I will of my word and honestlie Frier, and so
farewell.
Frier.
Farewel S. Francis receauer euen heartely, well
now the Frier is out of cash fiue Nobles, God knowes
how he shall come into cash againe, but I must to it againe,
theres nine for your holines and sixe for me.
Lluellen.
Come on my hearts, bring forth your prisoners
and let vs see what store of fittie is there in their
pursenets, Frier why chafest thou man heres no bodie
wil offer thee anie foule plaie I warrant thee.
Dauid.
O good maister giue me leaue, my hand is in a
little, I trust I shall recouer my losses.
Lluellen.
The Frier is mad, but let him alone with his
deuise, and now to you my maisters, Pedler, Priest and
Piper, throw downe your budgets in the mean while,
and when the Frier is at leasure he shal tel you what you
shall trust to.
Pedler.
Alas sir I haue but 3. pence in the corner of my shoe,
Meredith.
Neuer a shoulder of Mutton Piper in your
Taber, but soft here comes companie.
Enter Longshankes, Dauid, Farmer.
Farmer.
Alas gentlemen if you loue your selues doe
not venter through this mountaine, heres such a coile
with Robin Hood and his rabell that euerie crosse in my
purse trembles for feare.
Longsh.
Honest man as I saide to thee before, conduct
vs through this wood, and if thou beest robde, or haue
anie violence offered thee, as I am a Gentleman I will
repaie it thee againe.
Dauid.
How much money hast thou about thee?
Farmer.
Faith Sir a hundred marks, I receiued it euen
now at Breaknocke, but out alas we are vndone, yonder
is Robin Hood and al the strong theeues in the mountain
I haue no hope left but your honors assurance.
Longsh.
Feare not I will be my words maister.
Frier.
Good maister and if you loue the Frier, giue
aime a while I you desire: and as you like of my deuise,
so loue him that holdes the dise.
What Frier art thou stil laboring so hard, wil
you haue anie thing more to S. France?
Frier.
Good lord are you here sweet S. Francis receauer,
how doth his holines and al his good familie?
Farmer.
In good health faith Frier, hast thou anie
Nobles for him?
Frier.
You knowe the dice are not partiall and Saint
Francis were ten S. they wil fauor him no more thē they
would fauour the Diuel if he plaie at dice, in verie truth
my friend they haue fauored the Frier, and I haue won a
C. marks of S. Francis, come Sir I praie sirra draw it ouer
I know sirra he is a good man and neuer deceaues none.
Farmer.
Draw it ouer, what meanest thou by that?
Frier.
Why in numeratis pecuniis legem pone, paie me my
winnings.
Far.
What asse is this, should I pay thee thy winnings?
Frier.
Why art not thou sirra Saint Francis receauer?
Farmer.
Indeede I doe receaue for Saint Francis.
Frier.
Then ile make you paie for S. Francis thats flat.
Bushing on both sides.
Farmer.
Helpe helpe I am robde. I am robde.
Longsh.
Villaine you wrong the man, hands off.
Frier.
Maisters I beseech you leaue this brawling and
giue me leaue to speake, so it is I went to dice with S.
Francis & lost fiue Nobles, by good fortune his Cashier
came by receaued it of me in readie cash, I being verie
desirous to trie my fortune further, plaide still, and as
the dice not being bound prentise to him or anie man,
fauored me, I drew a hand and wonne a hundred marks,
now I refer it to your iudgements whither the Frier is
to seeke his winnings.
Longsh.
Marie Frier the Farmer must and shall paie
thee honestly ere he passe.
Farmer.
Shall I sir, why will you be content to paie
halfe a you promist me.
Longsh.
I farmer if you had beene robde of it, but if
you bee agamester ile take no charge of you I.
Alas I am vndone.
Lluellen.
So sir Frier, now you haue gathered vp your
winnings I pray you stand vp and giue the messengers
their charge that Robin Hood may receaue his Toule.
Frier.
And shal my Lord. Our thrise renowmed Lluellen
Prince of Wales and Robin Hood of the great mountaine,
doth will and command all passengers, at the sight
of Richard seruaunt vnto me Frier Dauidap Tucke to lay
downe their weapons, and quietlie to yeeld for custom
towards the maintenance of his highnes wars, the halfe
of al such golde, siluer, money, and money worth, at the
saide messenger hath then about him, but if he conceal
anie part or parcel of the same, then shall he forfaite all
that he possesseth at that present, and this sentence is irreuocable
confirmed by our Lord Lluellen Prince of
Wales, and Robin Hood of the great mountaines.
Lluellen.
So vaile your budgettes to Robin of the
mountaine, but what art thou that disdainest to paie
this custōe, as if thou scornest the greatnes of the prince
of Wales?
Longsh.
Faith Robin thou seemest to be a good fellow
theres my bagge, halfe is mine and halfe is thine, but lets
to it if thou darst man for man, to trie who shal haue the
whole.
Lluellen.
Why thou speakest as thou shouldst speak.
My maisters on pain of my displeasure depart the place
and leaue vs two to our selues, I must lope his Longshankes
for ile eare to a paire of Longshankes.
Longsh.
They are faire markes sir, and I must defende
as I may, Dauy be gone, hold here my hearts, long legs
giues you this amongst you to spend blows one with an
other, Dauie now Dauie daies are almost come at ende.
Mortim.
But Mortimor this sight is strange, staye thou
in some corner to see what wil befal in this battaile.
Edward.
Now Robin of the wood, alias Robin Hood, be
it knowen to your worship by these presents, that the
Longshankes which you aime at, haue brought the king
to cracke a blade with his man that supposeth himselfe
Prince of Wales.
Lluellen.
What Sir King, welcome to Cambrias, what
foolish Edward darst thou endanger thy selfe to trauail
these mountaines, art thou so foolish hardie as to combate
with the Prince of Wales?
Edward.
What I dare thou seest, what I can performe
thou shalt shortlie knowe, I thinke thee a Gentleman,
and therefore holde no scorne to fight with thee.
Lluellen.
No Edward I am as good a man as thy selfe.
Longsh.
That shall I trie.
They fight, and Dauid takes his brothers part, and Mortimor the Kings.
Edward.
Halloe Edward how are thy sences confounded,
what Dauy is it possible thou shouldest be false to
England?
Dauy.
Edward I am true to Wales, and so haue beene
frendes since my birth, and that shal the King of England
know to his cost.
Lluellen.
What Potter, did not I charge you to begon
with your fellowes?
Mortimor.
No Traitor no Potter I, but Mortimor
the Earle of March, whose comming to these woods, is
to deceiue thee of thy loue, and reserued to saue my soueraignes
life.
Dauid.
Vppon them brother let them not breath.
The King hath Lluellen downe, and Dauid hath Mortimor downe.
Longsh.
Villaine thou diest, God and my right hath
preuailed.
Dauid.
Base Earle now doth Dauid triumph in thine
ouerthrow, aie is me Lluellen at the feet of Longshanks.
What Mortimor vnder the sword of such a
Traitor?
Mortimor.
Braue King run thy sword vp to the hiltes
into the bloud of the rebell.
Longsh.
O Mortimor thy life is dearer to me then millions
of rebels.
Dauid.
Edward relieue my brother and Mortimor liues.
Longsh.
I villaine thou knowest too wel how deare I
holde my Mortimor, rise man and assure thee, and the
hate I beare to thee is long in respect of the deadly hatred
I beare to that notorious rebell.
Mortimor.
Awaie, his sight to me is like the sight of a
Cockeatrice, villaine I goe to reuenge me on thy treason,
and to make thee patterne to the world, of mountains
treason, falshood and ingratitude.
Dauid.
Brother a chafes, but hard was your hap to be
ouermastered by the coward.
Lluellen.
No coward Dauid, his courage is like to the
Lion, and were it not that rule and soueraigntie sets vs
at iarre, I could loue and honor the man for his valour.
Dauid.
But the Potter, oh the villaine will neuer out
of my minde whilst I liue, and I wil laie to be reuenged
on his villanie.
Lluellen.
Wel Dauid what wil be shall be, therefore casting
these matters out of our heads, Dauid thou art
welcome to Cambria, let vs in and bee merrie after this
colde cooling, and to prepare to strengthen our selues against
the last threatnings.
Exeunt ambo.
After the Christening and marriage done, the Harrolds hauing attended, they passe ouer, the bride is led by two Noblemen, Edmund of Lancaster, and the Earle of Sussex, and the Bishop.
Gloster.
Welcome Ione Countesse of Gloster to Gilbert
de Clare for euer. God giue them ioie, cosin Gloster, see
Maiesties with their yong sonne, Edward Prince of Wales.
Then all passe in their order to the kings pauilion, the king sits in his Tent with his pages about him.
Bishop.
Wee represent your highnes most humblie,
with your young sonne Edward of Carnaruan Prince of
Wales.
Sound Trumpets.
Omnes.
God saue Edward of Carnaruan prince of Wales.
Longsh.
kisses them both
Edward Prince of Wales God
blesse thee with long life and honor, welcom Ione countesse
of Gloster, God blesse thee and thine for euer, lords
let vs visite my Queene and wife, whome we wil at once
present with a Son and daughter honored to her desire.
Bishop speakes to her in her bed.
Wee humblie present your Maiestie with your yong
sonne Edward of Carnaruan Prince of VVales.
Sound Trumpets.
Omnes.
God saue Edward of Carnaruan prince of wales:
Gramercis Bishop, holde take that to buie thee a Rochell,
welcome VVelshman, here Nurse open him and
haue him to the fire for God sake, they haue touzed
him, and wash thim throughlie and that bee good, and
welcome Ione Countesse of Gloster, God blesse thee with
long life, honor, and hearts ease.
I am nowe as good as my word Gloster, shee is thine
make much of her gentle Earle.
Longsh.
Now my sweete Nell what more commandeth
my Queene that nothing may want to periect her contentment.
Q. Eli.
Nothing sweet Ned, but pray my king to feaste
the Lords and ladies roialtie, and thankes a thousand
and honor done to your Prince.
Longsh.
Maister Bridegroome by olde custome this is
your waiting daie, Sir Dauid you may commaund al ample
welcome in our court, for your cuntreymen: brother
Edmund reuell it now or neuer for honour of your Englands
sonne, Gloster now like a braue Bridegrome marshall
this manie, and set these Lords and Ladies to dancing,
so shall you fulfil the olde English prouerbe, tis
merrie in Hall when beardes wag all.
What tidings bringes Versses to our court?
Enter in Versses with a halter about his necke.
Versses.
Tidinges to make thee tremble Englishe
king.
Longsh.
Me tremble boie? must not bee newes from
Scotland, can once make Englishe Edward stand agaste.
Versses.
Baliell hath chosen at this time to sturre,
To rouze him Lion like and cast the yoke:
That Scots ingloriouslie haue borne from thee,
And all the predecessors of thy line:
And make his roddes to reobtaine his rights,
And for his homage scuds thee al this despight.
Edmund.
Why how now princockes pratest thou to a king?
Versses.
I doe my message truely from my king.
This sword and targot chide in lowder tearmes,
I bring defiance from king Iohn Balioll,
To English Edward and his Barons all.
Longsh.
Marie so me thinkes thou defiest mee with a witnes.
Versses.
Balioll my king in Barwicke makes his Court,
His campe he spreads vppon the sandie plaine,
Edmund.
VVhat Court and Campe in Englishmens despight?
Longsh.
Hold messenger, commend me to thy King,
Weare thou my chaine and carrie this to him,
Greete all his route of Rebels more or lesse,
Tel them such shamefull end will hit them all,
And wend with this as resolutely backe,
As thou to England broughst thy Scottish braues,
Tel then disdainefullie Balioll from vs,
VVeele rouze him from his hold, and make him soone
Disloge his Campe, and take his walled towne.
Saie what I bid thee Versses to his teeth.
And earne this fauour and a better thing.
Versses.
Yes King of England whom my heart beloues,
Thinkes as I promist him to braue thee heare,
So shall I bid Iohn Balioll bace from thee.
Longsh.
So shalt thou earne my chaine and fauour Versses,
And carrie him this token that thou sendst:
VVhy now is Englands haruest ripe,
Barons now maie you reape the rich renowne,
That vnder warlicke colours springs in field,
And growes where ensignes wan vppon the plains.
False Balioll Barwicke is no hold of proofe,
To shrowd thee from the strength of Edwards arme,
No Scot thy Treasons feare shal make the breach,
For Englands pure renowne to enter one.
Omnes.
Amaine amaine vppon these treacherous Scottes.
Amaine saie all, vppon these treacherous Scots,
Longsh.
VVhile wee with Edmund, Gloster, and the rest,
VVith speedie iourneis gather vp our forces,
And beat these brauing Scots from Englands bounds,
Mortimor thou shalt take the route in taske,
That reuell here and spoile faire Cambria,
Shall post to London and repaste her there,
Then God shall send vs happely all to meete,
And ioy the honors of our victories,
Take vantage of our foes and see the time,
Keepe stil our hold, our fight yet on the plaine,
Balioll I come proud Balioll and ingrate,
Perswaded to chase thy men from Englands gate.
Exit Edward King.
Enter Balioll with his traine.
Balioll.
Princes of Scotland and my louing friends.
VVhose neckes are ouer-wearied with the yoke,
And seruile bondage of these Englishmen,
Lift vp your hornes, and with your brasen hoofes,
Spurre at the honor of your Enemies.
Tis not ambitious thoughts of priuate rule,
Hath forst your king to take on him these Armes,
Tis countreis cause, it is the commons good,
Of vs and of our braue posterity, to armes, to armes.
Versses by this hath tolde the King our mindes,
And he hath braued proud England to the proofe,
VVe will renumerate his resolution,
With gold, with glory, and with kingly gifts.
Lorde.
By sweet Saint Ierem Versses will not spare,
To tell his message to the English King:
And beard the iolly Longshankes to his face,
VVere he the greatest Monarch in the world,
And here he comes his halter makes him hast.
Enter Versses.
Long liue my lord the rightfull King of Scots.
Balioll.
Welcome Versses, what newes from England?
Like to the measure of Scotlands King?
Versses.
Versses my Lord in tearmes like to himselfe,
Like to the messenger of Scottish King,
Defied the Peares of England and their lords,
And Longshankes himselfe as dainted and amased,
Gazde on my face not witting what to say:
Till rouzing vp he shakte his threating haire,
Versses quoth he take thou King Edwards chaine,
Vppon condicion, thou a message doe,
To Balioll false, periurde Balioll.
For in these tearmes he bad me greete your Grace,
And gaue this halter to your excellences,
I tooke the chaine and gaue your Grace the rope.
Balioll.
You tooke the chaine and giue my Grace the rope,
Lay hold on him, why miscreāt recreant,
And darst thou bring a halter to thy King?
But I will quite thy paine, and in that chaine,
Vppon a siluer Gallowes shalt thou hang,
That honored with a golden rope of England,
And a siluer Gibbet of Scotland,
Thou maist hang in the aire for fowles to feede vppon,
And men to wonder at, awaie with him away.
After the sight of Iohn Balioll is done, enter Mortimor pursuing of the Rebels.
Mort.
Strike vp that drum, follow, pursue and chase,
Follow, pursue, spare not the proudest he,
That hauocks Englands sacred roialty.
Exit Morti.
Then make the proclamation vpon the walles. Sound Trumpets.
Enter Queene alone.
Now fits the time to purge our melancholly, and bee
reuenged vppon this London Dame.
Enter Katherina, At hand Madam.
Bring forth our London Maris here.
Kather.
I will Madam.
Queene.
Now Nell be thinke thee of some tortures for the Dame:
And purge thy choller to the vttermost,
Enter Maris and Katherine.
Now mistres Maris you haue attendance vrgde,
And therefore to requite your curtesie,
Our minde is to bestow an office on you straight.
Maris.
My selfe, my life, and seruice mighty Queen,
are humblie at your Maiesties commaund.
Queene.
Then mistres Maris saie whether will you be
our Nurse or Landeres.
Maris.
Then maie it please your Maiestie, to entertaine
your handmaide for your Nurse, shee will attende
the craddle carefully.
Queene.
O no Nurse, the Babe needes no great rockeing,
it can lull it selfe, Katherina binde her in the chaire,
and let me see how sheele become a Nurse, so now Katherin
draw forth her brest and let the Serpent sucke his
fil, why so now shee is a Nurse, sucke on sweet Babe.
Maris.
Ah Queene sweete Queene, seeke not my bloud to spill:
For I shal die before this Adder haue his fil.
Queene.
Die or die not, my minde is fullie pleased,
Come Katherina to London now wil we,
And leaue our Maris with her nurserie.
Kath.
Farewel sweete Maris looke vnto the Babe.
Exeunt Queene and Kath.
Maris.
Farewel proud Queen the Autor of my death,
The scourge of England and to English dames:
Ah husband sweete Iohn Bearmber Maior of London,
Ah didst thou know how Mary is perplext,
Soone wouldst thou come to Wales and rid me of this paine.
Here shee dies.
But oh I die, my wishe is al in vaine.
Lluellen.
The angry Heauens frownd on Brittains face
To Ecclipse the glorie of faire Cambria,
VVith foror aspectes the dreadful Planets lowre,
Lluellen basely turne thy backe and flie,
No Welshmen fight it to the last and die.
For if my men safely haue got the Bride,
Careles of chance, ile recke no sowre euent,
Englands broad wombe hath not that armed band,
That can expel Lluellen from his land.
Enter Dauid.
Flie Lord of Cambria, flie Prince of VVales,
Sweete brother flie the field is wonne and lost,
Thou art beset with Englands furious troupes,
And cursed Mortimor like a Lion leades,
Our men haue got the Bride but al in vaine:
The English men are come vppon our backes,
Either flee or die for Edward hath the day:
For me I haue my rescue in my hand,
England on me no torments shal inflict,
Farewell Lluellen while wee meete in Heauen.
Exit Dauid.
Enter Souldiers.
Follow pursue: lie there what ere thou be,
Lluellen is slaine with a Pike staffe:
Yet soft my hearts let vs his countenance see,
This is the Prince I know him by his face,
O gracious fortune that me happie made,
To spoile the weede that chokes faire Cambria,
Hale him from hence and in this buskiewood,
Bury his corps, but for his head I vowed,
I will present our gouernour with the same.
Exeunt omnes.
Frier.
Come my gentle Richard my trew master seruant
that in some stormes haue stood my maister, hang thee
I praie thee least I hang for thee, and downe on thy mary
bones like a foolish fellow, that haue gone farre astray
and aske forgiuenes of God and king Edward for playing
the rachell and the Rebel here in Wales, ah gentle
Richard many a whot breakefast haue wee beene at together,
& now since, like one of Mars his frozen knights
I must hang vp my weapon vppon this tree and come
per misericordiam to the madde Potter Mortimor, wring
thy handes Frier and sing a pittiful farewell to thy pikestaffe
at parting.
The Frier hauing song his farewell to his Pikestaffe a takes his leaue of Cambria, and Exit the Frier.
Enter Mortimor with his souldiers, and Elinor.
Mortimor.
Binde fast the Traitor and bring him awaie,
that the law maie iustly passe vppon him and receaue
the reward of monstruous treasons and villanye,
slaine to the name and honor of his noble countrey for
you that slew Lluellen and presented vs with his heade,
the King shall reward your fortune and chiualry. Sweet
Ladie abate not thy lookes so heauenlie to the earth,
God and the King of England hath honor for thee in
store, and Mortimors heart at seruice and at thy commaundement.
Elinor.
Thankes gentle Lord, but alas who can blame
Elinor to accuse her starres, that in one howre hath loste
honor and contentment.
Mort.
And in one howr may your Ladishippe recouer
both if you vouchsafe to be aduised by your friendes,
but what makes the Frier here vpon his mary bones?
O Potter Potter the Frier doth sue,
Now his olde maister is slaine and gone to haue anew.
Elinor.
Ah sweet Lluellen how thy death I rue.
Mortimor.
Well saide Frier better once then neuer,
giue me thy hand, my cunning shall faile me but we will
be fellowes yet, and now Robin Hood is gone, it shall cost
me whot water but thou shalt be King Edwards man only
I enioyne thee this, come not too neare the Frier
but good Frier be at my hand.
Frier.
O sirre no sirre not so sirre, a was warned too latelie
none of that flesh I loue.
Mortimor.
Come on, and for those that haue made
their submission, and giuen their names in the Kinges
name, I pronounce their pardones, and so God saue K.
Edward.
Exeunt ambo from Wales.
Heres thunder and lightning when the Queen comes in.
Enter Queene Elinor and Ione.
Q Eli.
Whie Ione, is this the welcome that the clouds
affordes, how dare these disturbe our thoughts, knowing
that I am Edwardes wife and Englands Queen here thus
on Charing greene to threaten me?
Ione.
Ah mother blaspheme not so, your blaspheming
and other wicked deeds hath caused our God to terrifie
your thoughts, and call to minde your sinfull fact committed
against the Maris here of louely London, and
better Maris London neuer bread, so full of ruth and
pitty to the poore, her haue you made awaie, that London
cries for vengeance on your head.
Queene.
I rid her not, I made her not awaie, by heauen
I sweare, Traitors they are to Edward and to Englandes
Queene that saie I made awaie the Maris.
Ione.
Take heede sweet Lady mother sweare not so, a
field of prise corne wil not stop their mouths, that said
you haue made awaie that vertuous woman.
Gape earth and swallow me, and let my soule
sincke downe to Hell if I were Autor of that womens
Tragedy, Oh Ione, helpe Ione thy mother sinckes.
Ione.
Oh mother my helpe is nothing, oh she is suncke,
and here the earthis new closde vp againe, ah Charinge
greene for euer change thy hew, and neuer may the gras
grow greene againe but wither and returne to stones,
because that beauteous Elinor sincke on thee, wel I will
send vnto the king my fathers Grace, and satisfie him of
this strange mishap.
Alarum a charge after long skirmishe assault florishe. Enter King Edward with his traine and Balioll prisoner Edward speaketh.
Edward.
Now trothles King what fruites haue brauing boastes,
VVhat end hath Treason but a soddaine fall?
Such as haue knowne thy life and bringing vp,
Haue praised thee for thy learning and thy art,
How comes it then that thou forgetst thy booke?,
That schoold thee to forget in gratitude,
Vnkinde, this hand hath nointed thee a king,
This tongue pronounst the sentence of thy ruth,
If thou in lue of mine vnfaigned loue,
Hast leuied armes for to attempt my crowne,
Now see thy fruites, thy gloryes are dispearst,
And his, for like sith thou hast past thy bounds,
Thy sturdie necke must stoope to beare this yoke.
Balioll.
I tooke this lesson Edward from my booke,
To keepe a iust equality of minde,
Content with euery fortune as it comes,
So canst thou threat no more then I expect.
Edward.
So sir your moderation is enforst,
Your goodly gloses cannot make it good.
Balioll.
Then will I keepe in silence what I meane,
Edmund.
Naie Balioll speake forth, if there yet remain,
A little remnant of perswading Art.
Balioll.
If cunning haue power to win the king,
Let those imploy it that can flatter him.
If honored deede may reconcile the King,
It lies in me to giue and him to take.
Edward.
Why what remaines for Balioll now to giue?
Balioll.
Alegeance as becomes a roiall king.
Edward.
What league of faith where league is broken once?
Balioll.
The greater hope in them that once haue falne.
Edward.
But foolishe are those Monarches that doe yeelde
A conquered Realme vppon submissiue vowes.
Balioll.
There take my crowne and so redeme my life.
Edward.
I sir that was the choisest plea of both,
For who so quels the pomp of haughtie windes.
And breakes their staffe, wheron they build their trust,
Is sure in wanting power they carrie not harme.
Balioll shall liue, but yet within such bounds,
That if his wings grow flig, they may be clipt?
Enter the Potter aud the Potters wife, called the Potters him dwelling there, and Iohn her man.
Potters wife.
Iohn come awaie, you goe as though you
slept, a great knaue and be afraide of a little thundering
and lightning.
Iohn.
Call you this a little thundering, I am sure my
breeches findes it a great deale, for I am sure they are
stufte with thunder.
Potters wife.
They are stufte with a foole, are they not,
will it please you to carrie the lantern a little handsommer,
and not to carrie it with your handes in your slops.
Iohn.
Slops quoth you. woulde I had taried at home
hands in my pockets, but ile laie my life I know the reason
of this fowle weather.
Pot. wife.
Doe you know the reason? I praie thee Iohn
tel me and let me hear this reason.
Iohn.
I laie my life some of your Gossipse be cros legd
that we came from, but you are wise mistres for you com
now aware and will not staie a gossiping in a drie house
all night.
Potters wife.
Would it please you to walke and leaue
of your knauerie, but state Iohn, whats that riseth out of
the ground, Iesus blesse vs Iohn, look how it riseth higher
and higher.
Iohn.
Be my troth mistres tis a woman, good Lord do
women grow, I neuer saw none grow before.
Potters wife.
Hold thy tongue thou foolish knaue, it is
the spirite of some woman
Queene.
Ha let me see where am I, on Charing green,
I on Charing greene here hard by Westminster, where
I was crowned and Edward there made King, I tis true
so it is, and therefore Edward kisse not me vnlesse you
will straight perfume your lips Edward.
Potters wife.
Ora pro nobis Iohn, I praie full to your prayers
for my life it is the Queene that chases thus, who
suncke this daie on Charing greene, and now is risen vp
on Potters Hiue, and therfore trulie Iohn ile goe to her.
Here let the Potters wife goe to the Queen.
Queene.
Welcome good woman, what place is this,
sea or land I pray shew to me.
Potters wife.
Your Grace neede not to feare you are
on firme ground, it is the Potters Hiue, and therfoere
cheare your Maiestie for I wil see you safe conducted to
the Court, if case your highnes be therewithall pleased.
Make a noise, Westward how.
I good woman conduct me to the court, that
there I maie bewaile my sinfull life, and call to God to
saue my wretched soule, womā what noise is this I hear?
Potters wife.
And like your Grace it is the Watermen
that cals for passengers to goe VVestward now.
Queene.
That fits my turne, for I will straight with
them to Kinges towne to the Court, and there repose
me till the king come home: and therefore sweete woman
conceale what thou hast seene, and leade mee to
those Watermen, for here doth Elinor droupe.
Iohn.
Come come heres a goodly leading of you is ther
not, first you must make vs afeard, and now I must bee
troubled in carrying of you, I would you were honestly
laid in your bed so that I were not troubled with you.
Exeunt ambo.
Enter two messengers, the one that Dauid shall be hangd the other of the Queenes sincking.
1. Mes.
Honor and Fortune waite vppon the Crowne
Of Princesse Edward Englands valiant king.
Edward.
Thanks Messenger, and if my God vouchsafe
That winged Honor waite vppon my throne,
Ile make her spicd her plumbes vppon their heads,
Whose true allegeance doth confirme the Crowne,
What news in Wales how wends our busines there?
2 Messeng.
The false disturber of that wasted soile,
VVith his adherents is surprised my King:
And in assurance he shall start no more,
Breathles he lies and headles to my Lordes,
The circumstance these lines shal here vnfold.
Edward.
A harmfull weede by wisedome rooted out,
Can neuer hurt the true ingrafted plant,
But whats the newes Sir Thomas Spencer bringes?
Spenc.
Wonders my Lord, wrapt vp in homely words,
And Letters to infourme your Maiestie.
Edw.
O Heauens, what made these miracles portend?
Reed brother Edmund reede a wondrous chance.
Edmund reedes a line of the Queens sincking.
Edmund.
And I not heard nor red so strange a thing.
Edward.
Sweete Queene this sincking is a surfet tane
Of pride, wherewith thy womans heart did swell,
A dangerous maladie in the heart to dwell,
Lords march we towards London now in hast,
I will goe see my louelie Elinor,
And comfort her after this strange affright,
And where she is importune to haue talke,
And secret conference with some Friers of France,
Mun thou with me and I with thee will goe,
And take the swete confession of my Nell,
We will haue French enough to parlee with the Queen.
Edmund.
Might I aduise your royall maiestie,
I would not goe for millions of golde:
What knowes your grace disguised if you wend,
What you may heare in secrecy reuealde?
That maie appeale and discontent your highnes,
A goodly creature is your Elinor,
Brought vp in nicenesse and in delicacie,
Then listen not to her confession Lord,
To wound thy heart with some vnkinde conceite,
But as for Lancaster he maie not goe.
K. Edward.
brother I am resolude and goe I will
If God giue life, and cheare my dying Queene,
Why Mun, why man, what ere King Edward heares,
It lies in God and him to pardon all.
Ile haue no ghostlie Fathers out of France,
England hath learned Clarkes and Confessors,
To comfort and absolue as men may doe,
And ile be ghostlie Father for this once.
Edmund.
Edmund thou maist not goe although thou die.
Edward is gracious, merciful, meeke and milde,
But furious when he findes he is beguilde.
Edward.
Messenger hie thee backe to Shrewsbury,
Bid Mortimor thy maister speede him fast,
And with his fortune welcome vs to London,
I long to see my beauteous louelie Queene.
Exeunt omnes.
Enter Dauid drawne on a hurdle with Mortimor and officers accompanied, with the Frier, the Nouice, the Harper, and Lluellens head on a speare.
Frier.
On afore, on afore.
Nouice.
Hold vp your torches for dropping.
Frier.
A faire procession, Sir Dauid be of good chear
you cannot goe out of the waie hauing so manie guides
at hand.
Nouice.
Be sure of that, for we goe all the highway to
the Gallowes I warrant you.
Dauid.
I goe where my starre leads me, and die in my
countreis iust cause and quarrell.
Harper.
The Starre that twinckled at thy birth,
Good brother mine hath mard thy mirth,
An o'de saide saw Earth must to earth,
Next yeare will be a pitteous dearth,
Of Hempe I dare laie a pennie:
This yeare is hangde so many.
Frier.
Well saide Morgan Pigot Harper, and Prophet
for the Kinges one mouth.
Nouice.
Tundateds tedo dote dum, this is the daie the
time is come Morgan Pigots prophecie and Lord Lluellens
Tragedie.
Frier.
Who saith the Prophet is an Asse, whose prophecies come so to palle:
Said he not oft and sung it to, Lluellen after much adoe,
Should in spite heaue vp his chin, and be the highest of his kinne:
Empalled with a crowne of lead:
My Lord let not this South-faire lacke,
That hath such cunning in his iacke.
Harper.
Dauid holde still your clacke,
Least your heeles make your necke cracke.
Frier.
Gentle Prophet and yee loue me forspeake me
not, tis the worst lucke in the world to sturre a witche
or anger a wise man, maister Sheriffe haue wee anie hast,
best giue my horses some more haie.
Exeunt omnes.
Elinor in child-bed with her daughter Ione, and other Ladies.
Qu. Eli.
Cal forth those renowmed Friers come from France,
And raise me gentle Ladies in my bed,
That while this faultring engine of my speach,
I leaue to vtter my concealed guilt,
I maie respect and so repent my sinnes
Ione.
VVhat plague afflicts your roiall Maiestie?
Qu. Eli.
Ah Ione I perish through a double warres,
First in this painfull prison of my soule,
A world of dreadfull sins holpe thee to sight,
And, Nature hauing lost her working power,
Yeeldes vp her earthlie Fortunes vnto death.
Next ouer VVat my soule is ouer preast,
In thee my Conscience loaden with misdeedes,
Sittes seeing my Conscience to ensue,
VVithout especiall fauour from aboue.
Ione.
Your Grace must account it a warriors crosse,
To make resist where daunger there is none,
Superdewe your Feuer by precious Art,
And helpe you still through hope of heauenlie aide.
Qu. Eli.
The carelesse sleepe rule on the mountaines toppes,
The threatning windes comes springing with the flouds
To ouerwhelme and drowne his craised keele,
His tackes torne, his sailes borne ouer boarde.
How pale like Vallows flowres the mountaine standes?
Vppon his hatches waiting for his iearke,
Wringing his hands that ought to plaie the pompe,
Maie blame his feare that laboreth not for life.
So thou poore soule maie tell a seruile tale,
Maie councell me, but I that prooue thy paine.
Maie heare thee talke, but not redresse my harme,
But ghastlie death alreadie is addrest,
To gleane the latest blossome of my life,
My spirite failes me, are these Friers come?
Enter the King and his brother in Friers weeds.
King.
Dominus vobiscum.
Edmund.
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Qu. Elinor.
Draw neare graue Fathers, and approche my bed:
Forbeare our presence Ladies for a while,
And leaue vs to our secret conference.
King.
What cause hath moued your roiall Maiestie,
To call your seruaunts from their countreis bounds?
For to attend your pleasure here in Englands court?
Qu. Eli.
See you not holie Friers mine estate,
My bodie weake inclining to my graue.
Edm.
We see and sorrow for thy paine faire Queene.
Qu. Eli.
By this eternall signes of my defectes,
Friers consecrate mine ineternall griefe,
My soule, ah wretched soule within this brest,
Faint for to mount the Heauens with wings of grace,
A hundred by flocking troupes of sinne,
That stop my passage to my wished howres.
King.
The nearer Elinor, so the greatest hope of health,
And daine to vs for to impart your quiet.
Aspiring soules to scale the heauenly grace.
Qu. Eli.
Shame and remorse doth stop my course of speach.
King.
Madam you need not dread our conference,
VVho by the order of the holy Church,
Are all annoynted to sacred secrecie.
Qu. Eli.
Did I not thinke, naie were I not assured,
Your wisedomes would be silent in that cause,
No feare could make me to be wraie my selfe,
But gentle fathers I haue thought it good,
Not to relie vppon these Englishmen,
But on your trothes, you holy men of Fraunce,
Then as you loue your life and Englands weale,
Keepe secret my Confession from the king,
For why my storie nearelie toucheth him,
Whose loue compared with my losse delights,
With manie sorrowes that my heart affrights.
Edmund.
My heart misgiues.
King.
Be silent, follow Frier.
Qu. Eli.
In pride of youth when I was yong and faire,
And gracious in the king of Englands sight,
The daie before that night his Highnes should,
Possesse the pleasure of my wedlockes bed,
Caitife accursed monster as I was,
His brother Edmund beautifull and young,
Vppon my bridall couch by my concent,
Enioies the flowre and fauour of my loue.
The King beholdeth his brother wofully.
And I becam a Traitresse to my Lord.
King.
Facinus scelus, in fandum nefas.
Edm.
Madam, through sickenes, weakenes, and your
wittes, twere verie good to bethinke your selfe before
you speake.
Qu. Eli.
Good father not so weake but that I wot,
My heat doth rent to thinke vpon the time,
But whie exclaimes this holie Frier so?
King.
Tis charitie in men of my degree,
To sorrow for our neighbours hainous sinnes:
And Madam, though some promise loue to you,
And zeale to Edmund brother to the King,
I praie the Heauens you both maie soone repent.
But might it please your Highnes to proceede,
Vnto this sinne a worser doth succeede.
Qu. Eli.
For Ione of Acon the supposed child,
And daughter of my Lord the English King:
Is baselie borne begotten of Frier.
Such time as I was their ariued in Fraunce,
His onelie true and lawfull sonne my frendes,
He is my hope, his sonne that should succeed.
Is Edward of Carnaruan latelie borne,
Now all the scruples of my troubled minde,
I sighing sound within your reuerent eares,
Oh prase for pittie, praie for I must die.
Remitte my God the follie of my youth,
My groaned spirites attends thy mercies seate,
Queene Elinor dies.
Fathers farewell, commend me to my King,
Commend me to my children and my friends,
And close mine eies for death will haue his due.
King.
Blushing I shut these thine inticing lampes,
The wanton baites that make me sucke my bane,
Pirpus hardned flames did neuer reflect,
More hidious flames then from my brest arise,
VVhat fault more vilde vnto thy dearest Lord?
Our daughter base begotten of a Priest,
And Ned my brother partner of my loue,
Oh that those eies that lightned Cesars braine,
Oh that those lookes that mastered Phucebus brand,
Or else those lookes that staine Melisaes farre,
Should shrine discreet desire and lawles lust,
Vnhappie King dishonored in thy stocke,
Hence faigned weedes, vnfaigned is my griefe.
Dread Prince my brother if my vowes auaile,
I call to witnes Heauen in my behalfe,
If zealous praier might driue you from suspect,
I bend my knees and humblie craue this boone,
That you will driue misdeedes out of your minde,
Maie neuer good betide my life my Lord,
If once I dreamde vppon this damned deede,
But my deceased sister and your Queene,
Afflicted with recurelesse maladies,
Impatient of her paine grew lunatick,
Discouering errors neuer dreamde vppon,
To proue this true the greatest men of all,
Within their learned volumes doe discord,
That all extreames, and al and in naught but extremes,
Then thinke oh King her agonie in death,
Bereaues her sence and memorie at once,
So that shee spoke shee knew nor how nor what.
King.
Sir sir, fain would your highnes hide your faults,
By cunning vowes and glosing tearmes of Arte,
And well thou maist delude these listning eares,
Yet neuer asswage by proofe this iealous heart,
Traitor thy head shal raunsome my disgrace,
Daughter of darkenes, whose accursed bowre,
The Poet fained to liue vppon Auernus,
Whereas Cimerians darkenes checks the Sun,
Dauids iealousie afflict me not so sore,
Faire Queene Elinor could neuer be so false,
I but shee vowed these treasons at her death,
A time not fitte to fashion monstrous lies,
Ah my vngratefull brother as thou art,
Could not my loue, naie more could not the law,
Naie further, could not nature thee allure,
For to refraine from this incestuous sinne,
Hast from my sight, call Ione of Acon here,
Exit Edmund.
The luke-warme spring distilling from his eies,
His othes, his vowes, his reasons rested with remorce,
Faine would I deeme that false I finde too true.
Enter Ione of Acone.
I come to know what Englands King commands,
I wonder why your Highnes greetes me thus.
With strange regarde and vnacquainted tearmes.
Ki.
Ah Ione this wonder needes must wound thy brest,
For it hath well nigh slaine my wretched heart.
Ione.
What is the Queen my soueraigne mother dead
Woes in vnhappie Ladie we begonne?
King.
The Queene is dead, yet Ione lament not thou,
Poore soule guiltles art thou of this deceite,
That hath more cause to curse then to complaine.
Ione.
My dreadful soule assailed with dolefull speach,
Ioynes me to bow my knees vnto the ground,
Beseeching your most roiall Maiestie,
To rid your woefull daughter of suspect.
King.
I daughter Ione, poore soule thou art deceaued,
The King of England is no scorned Priest.
Ione.
Was not the Ladie Elinor your spouse,
And am not I the ofspring of your loins?
King.
I but when Ladies liste to runne astraie,
The poore supposed father wears the horne,
And pleating leaue their Liege in Princes laps,
Ione thou art daughter to a leacherous Frier,
A Frier was thy father haplesse Ione,
Thy mother in profession vowes no lesse,
And I vilde wretch which sorrowed hard no lesse,
Ione.
What am I then a Friers base borne brat?
Presumptuous wretch why preasse I fore my king,
How can I looke my husband in the face?
Why should I liue since my renowne is lost?
Awaie thou wanton weede, hence worlds delight.
Shee fals groueling on the ground.
l'orechie abbassa come vinto et stanco,
Destrier cha in bocca il fren gli sproni al fianco.
O sommo Dio come i guidneo humani,
Spesse off uscan son danu membo oscunro,
Haplesse and wretched, lift vp thy heauie head
Nurse not so much as this vnhappie chance,
Vnconstant Fortune still will haue her course.
Ione.
My King, my King, let Fortune haue her course
Flie thou my soule and take a better corse,
Aies me from roiall state I now am faine.
You purple springs that wander in my vaines,
And whilom wants to feede my heauie heart,
Now all at once make hast and pittie me,
And stop your powers and change your natiue course,
Disolue to aire your luke-warme blouddie streames,
And cease to be that I maie be no more,
Your curled lockes draw from this cursed head,
Abase her pompe for Ione is baselie borne,
Ah Gloster thou poore Gloster hast the wrong.
Shee sodainly dies at the Queenes beds feete.
Die wretch, hate death, for Ione hath liued too long.
King.
Reuiue thee haples Ladie greeue not thus,
In vaine speake I for shee reuiues no more,
Poore haplesse soule thy owne espected mones,
Hath wrought her soddaine and vntimelie death.
Enter Edmund, Gloster, running with Ladies and conuaies Ione of Acon awaie.
Lords, Ladies hast, ah Gloster art thou come,
Then must I now present a Tragedie,
Thy Ione is dead, yet grieue thou not her fall,
Shee was too base a spouse for such a Prince.
Gloster.
Conspire you then with Heauens to work my harmes?
O sweete asswagers of our martiall misse,
Desired death depriue me of my life,
That I in death maie end my life and loue.
King.
Gloster thy King is partner of thy heauines,
Although nor tongue not eies bewraie his meane,
For I haue lost a flowre as faire as thine,
But since the heauenlie ordinance decrees,
That all thinges change in their prefixed time,
Be thou content and beare it in thy breast,
Thy swelling griefe as needes I must mine,
Thy Ione of Acon and my Queene deceast,
Shall haue that Honor as beseemes their state.
You peeres of England, see in roiall pompe,
These breathles bodies be entombed straight
With tried colours couered all with blacke,
Let Spanish steedes as swift as fleeting winde,
Conuaie these Princes to their funerall,
Before them let a hundred mourners ride,
In euerie time of their enforste aboade,
Reare vp a crosse in token of their worke,
Whereon faire Elinors picture shall be plaste,
Arriued at London neare our Pallas bounds,
Interre my louelie Elinor late deceast,
And in remembraunce of her roialtie,
Erect a rich and statelie carued Crosse,
Whereon her stature shall with glorie shine,
And hence forth see you call it Charing crosse,
For why the chancest and the choisest Queene,
That euer did delight my roiall eies,
Their dwell in darkenes whilst I die in griefe,
But soft, what tidings with these Purciuants?
Enter Messenger approch from Mortimor.
Messenger.
Sir Roger Mortimor with all Sussex as earste
your Grace by message did commaund, is here at hande
in purpose to present your Highnes with his signes of victorie,
and trothles Balioll their accursed King, with fire
and sword doth threat Northumberland.
King.
How one affliction cals another ouer,
First death torments me, then I feele disgrace,
Againe Lluellen he rebels in VVales,
And false Balioll meanes to braue me to,
But I will finde prouision for them all,
And Mortimor tis thou must hast to wales,
And rouse that Rebel from his starting holes,
And rid thy King of his contentious foe,
VVhilst I with Elinor, Gloster, and the rest,
With speedie iourney gather vp our force,
And bear these brauing Scots from out our bounds.
Courage braue Souldiers fates hath done their worst,
Now Vertue let me triumphe in thine aide.
Exite Edward.
Gloster solus.
Gloster.
Now Ione of Acon let me mourne thy fal
Sole here alone now set thee downe and sigh,
Sigh haples Gloster for thy sodaine losse,
Pale death alas hath bannished all thy pride,
Thy wedlocke vowes how ought haue I beheld?
Enter Mortimor with the head.
Thy eies thy lookes thy lippes and euerie part,
How nature store in them to shew their Art,
In shine, in shape, in colour and compare,
But now hath death the enemie of loue,
Staind and deformed, the shine, the shape, the reede,
With pale and dimnes, and my loue is dead.
Ah dead my loue, vile wretch whie am I liuing?
So willeth fates, and I must be contented,
All pompe in time must fade and grow to nothing,
VVept I like Nobe, yet it profits nothing,
Then cease my sighs since I maie not regaine her,
And woe to wretched death that this hath slaine her.
Exit Gloster.
| The Famous Chronicle of king Edward the first | |