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A20829
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Mortimeriados The lamentable ciuell vvarres of Edward the second and the barrons.
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Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.
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1596
(1596)
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STC 7208; ESTC S105390
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46,972
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148
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starre Stopping the wheele of Fortunes giddie carre O thus quoth he had gracelesse Edward done He had not now beene Subiect to his Sonne Then to Henry Plantagine he goes Two Kings at once two Crown'd at once doth find The roote from whence so many mischiefes rose The Fathers kindnes makes the Sonne vnkind Th'ambitious Brothers to debate inclind Thou crown'st thy Sonne yet liuing still do'st raigne Mine vncrownes me quoth he yet am I slaine Then of couragious Lyon-hart he reeds The Souldans terror and the Pagans wrack The Easterne world fild with his glorious deeds Of Ioppas siege of Cipres wofull sack Richard quoth hee turning his dull eyes back Thou did'st in height of thy felicitie I in the depth of all my miserie Then by degrees to sacriligious Iohn Murthering young Arthur hath vsurp'd his right The Cleargies curse the poors oppression The greeuous crosses that on him did light To Rooms proud yoke yeelding his awfull might Euen by thy end he sayth now Iohn I see Gods iudgements thus doe iustly fall on mee Then to long-raigning VVinchester his Sonne VVith whom his people bloody vvarre did wage And of the troubles in his time begunne The head-strong Barrons wrath the Commons rage And yet how he these tumults could aswage Thou liuest long quoth he longer thy name And I dye soone yet ouer-liue my fame Then to great Longshanks mighty victories VVho in the Orcads fix'd his Countries mears And dar'd in fight our fayths proud Enemies VVhich to his name eternall Trophies rears VVhose gracefull fauors yet faire England wears Bee't deadly sinne quoth he once to defile This Fathers name with me a Sonne so vile Following the leafe he findeth vnawars VVhat day young Edward Prince of VVales was borne VVhich Letters seeme lyke Magick Charrecters Or to dispight him they were made in scorne O let that name quoth he from Books be torne Least that in time the very greeued earth Doe curse my Mothers woombe and ban my birth Say that King Edward neuer had such child Or was deuour'd as hee in cradle lay Be all men from my place of birth exil'd Let it be sunck or swallowed with some sea Let course of yeeres deuoure that dismall day Let all be doone that power can bring to passe Onely be it forgot that ere I was The globy tears impearled in his eyes Through which as glasses hee is forc'd to looke Make letters seeme as circles which arise Forc'd by a stone within a standing Brooke And at one time so diuers formes they tooke VVhich like to vglie Monsters doe affright And with their shapes doe terrifie his sight Thus on his carefull Cabin falling downe Enter the Actors of his tragedy Opening the doores which made a hallow soune As they had howl'd against theyr crueltie Or of his paine as they would prophecie To whom as one which died before his death He yet complaynes whilst paine might lend him breath O be not Authors of so vile an act To bring my blood on your posteritie That Babes euen yet vnborne doe curse the fact I am a King though King of miserie I am your King though wanting Maiestie But he who is the cause of all this teene Is cruell March the Champion of the Queene He hath my Crowne he hath my Sonne my wyfe And in my throne tryumpheth in my fall Is't not inough but he will haue my lyfe But more I feare that yet this is not all I thinke my soule to iudgement he will call And in my death his rage yet shall not dye But persecute me so immortallie And for you deadly hate me let me liue For that aduantage angrie heauen hath left Fortune hath taken all that she did giue Yet that reuenge should not be quite bereft Shee leaues behind this remnant of her theft That miserie should find that onely I Am far more wretched then is miserie Betwixt two beds these deuils straight enclos'd him Thus done vncouering of his secrete part VVhen for his death they fitly had disposd him VVith burning yron thrust him to the hart O payne beyond all paine how much thou art VVhich words as words may verbally confesse But neuer pen precisely could expresse O let his tears euen freezing as they light By the impression of his monstrous payne Still keepe this odious spectacle in sight And shew the manner how the King was slaine That it with ages may be new againe That all may thether come that haue beene told it And in that mirror of his griefes behold it Still let the building sigh his bitter grones And with a hollow cry his woes repeate That sencelesse things euen mouing sencelesse stones VVith agonizing horror still may sweat And as consuming in their furious heate Like boyling Cauldrons be the drops that fall Euen as that blood for vengeance still did call O let the wofull Genius of the place Still haunt the pryson where his life was lost And with torne hayre and swolne ilfauored face Become the guide to his reuengefull ghost And night and day still let them walke the Coast And with incessant howling terrifie Or mooue with pitty all that trauell by TRue vertuous Lady now of mirth I sing To sharpen thy sweet spirit with some delight And somwhat slack this mellancholie string VVhilst I of loue and tryumphs must indite Too soone againe of passion must I write Of Englands wonder now I come to tell How Mortimer first rose when Edward fell Downe lesser lights the glorious Sunne doth clime His ioyfull rising is the worlds proude morne Now is he got betwixt the wings of Tyme And with the tyde of Fortune forwards borne Good starrs assist his greatnes to subborne VVho haue decreed his raigning for a while All laugh on him on whom the heauens doe smile The pompous sinode of these earthly Gods At Salsbury appointed by their King To set all euen which had been at ods And into fashion their dissignes to bring That peace might now froÌ„ their proceedings spring And to establish what they had begun Vnder whose cullour mighty things were done Heere Mortimer is Earle of March created Thys honor added to his Barronie And vnto fame heere is he consecrated That titles might his greatnes dignifie As for the rest he easely could supply VVho knew a kingdom to her lap was throwne VVhich hauing all would neuer starue her owne A pleasing calme hath smooth'd the troubled sea The prime brought on with gentle falling showers The misty breake yet proues a goodly day And on their heads since heauen her â—argesse powers That onely ours which we doe vse as ours Pleasures be poore and our delights be dead VVhen as a man doth not enioy the head Tyme wanting bounds still wanteth certainty Of dangers past in peace wee loue to heare Short is the date of all extreamity Long wished things a sweet delight doth beare Better forgoe our ioyes then still to feare Fortune her gifts in vaine to such doth gyue As when they liue seeme as they did not
haue him knowne They shaue away his princely tressed hayre And now become not worth a hayre ofs owne Body and fortune now be equall bare Thus voyde of wealth ô were he voyde of care But ô our ioyes are shadowes and deceaue vs But cares euen to our deaths doe neuer leaue vs. A silly Mole-hill is his kingly chayre VVith puddle water must he now be drest And his perfume the lothsome fenny ayre An yron skull a Bason sitting best A bloody workman suting with the rest His lothed eyes within thys filthy glas Truly behold how much deform'd hee was The drops which from his eyes abundance fall A poole of tears still rising by this rayne Euen fighting with the water and withall A circled compasse makes it to retaine Billow'd with sighes like to a little maine VVater with tears contending whether should Make water warme or make the warme tears cold Vise Traytors hold of your vnhalowed hands The cruelst beast the Lyons presence fears And can you keepe your Soueraigne then in bands How can your eyes behold th'anoynteds tears Are not your harts euen pearced through the ears The minde is free what ere afflict the man A King's a King doe Fortune what shee can VVho's he can take what God himselfe hath giuen Or spill that life his holy spirit infused All powers be subiect to the powers of heauen Nor wrongs passe vnreueng'd although excused VVeepe Maiestie to see thy selfe abused O whether shall authoritie be take VVhen shee herselfe herselfe doth so forsake A wreath of hay they on his temples bind VVhich when he felt tears would not let him see Nature quoth he now art thou onely kind Thou giu'st but Fortune taketh all from mee I now perceaue that were it not for thee I should want vvater clothing for my brayne But earth giues hay and mine eyes giue me rayne My selfe deform'd lyke my deformed state My person made like to mine infamie Altring my fauour could you alter fate And blotting beautie blot my memorie You might flye slaunder I indignitie My golden Crowne tooke golden rule away A Crowne of hay well sutes a King of hay Yet greeu'd agayne on nature doth complayne Nature sayth he ô thou art iust in all VVhy should'st thou then thus strengthen me agayne To suffer things so much vnnaturall Except thou be pertaker in my fall And when at once so many mischiefes meete Mak'st poyson nuterment and bitter sweete And now he thinks he wrongeth Fortune much VVho giueth him this great preheminence For since by fate his myseries be such Her worser name hath taught him pacience For no offence he taketh as offence Crost on his back and crosses in the brest Thus is he crost who neuer yet was blest To Berckley thus they lead this wretched King The place of horror which they had fore-thought O heauens why suffer you so vile a thing And can behold this murther to be wrought But that your wayes are all with iudgement frought Now entrest thou poore Edward to thy hell Thus take thy leaue and bid the world farewell O Berckley thou which hast beene famous long Still let thy walls shreeke out a deadly sound And still complayne thee of thy greeuous wrong Preserue the figure of King Edwards wound And keepe their wretched footsteps on the ground That yet some power againe may giue them breath And thou againe mayst curse them both to death The croking Rauens hideous voyce he hears VVhich through the Castell sounds with deadly yells Imprinting strange imaginarie fears The heauie Ecchoes lyke to passing bells Chyming far off his dolefull burying knells The iargging Casements which the fierce wind dryues Puts him in mind of fetters chaynes and gyues By silent night the vgly shreeking Owles Lyke dreadfull Spirits with terror doe torment him The enuious dogge angry with darcknes howles Lyke messengers from damned ghosts were sent him Or with hells noysome terror to present him Vnder his roofe the buzzing night-Crow sings Clapping his windowe with her fatall wings Death still prefigur'd in his fearefull dreames Of raging Feinds and Goblins that he meets Of falling downe from steepe-rocks into streames Of Toombs of Graues of Pits of winding sheets Of strange temptations and seducing sprits And with his cry awak'd calling for ayde His hollowe voyce doth make him selfe afrayd Oft in his sleepe he sees the Queene to flye him Sterne Mortimer pursue him with his sword His Sonne in sight yet dares he not come nigh him To whom he calls who aunswereth not a word And lyke a monster wondred and abhord VVidowes and Orphans following him with cryes Stabbing his hart and scratching out his eyes Next comes the vision of his bloody raigne Masking along with Lancasters sterne ghost Of eight and twentie Barrons hang'd and slayne Attended with the rufull mangled host At Burton and at Borough battell lost Threatning with frownes and trembling euery lim VVith thousand thousand curses cursing him And if it chaunce that from the troubled skyes Some little brightnes through the chinks giue light Straight waies on heaps the thrunging clouds doe rise As though the heauen were angry with the night Deformed shadowes glimpsing in his sight As though darcknes for she more darcke would bee Through these poore Crannells forc'd her selfe to see VVithin a deepe vault vnder where he lay Vnder buried filthie carcasses they keepe Because the thicke walls hearing kept away His feeling feeble seeing ceas'd in sleepe This lothsome stinck comes from this dungeon deepe As though before they fully did decree No one sence should from punishment be free Hee haps our English Chronicle to find On which to passe the howers he falls to reed For minuts yet to recreate his mind If any thought one vncar'd thought might feed But in his breast new conflicts this doth breed For when sorrowe is seated in the eyes VVhat ere we see increaseth miseries Opening the Booke he chaunced first of all On conquering VVilliams glorious comming in The Normans rising and the Bryttains fall Noting the plague ordyan'd for Harolds sinne How much in how short time this Duke did winne Great Lord quoth hee thy conquests plac'd thy throne I to mine owne haue basely lost mine owne Then comes to Rufus a lasciuious King VVhose lawlesse rule on that which he enioy'd A sodaine end vnto his dayes doth bring Himselfe destroy'd in that which he destroy'd None moane his death whose lyfe had all anoy'd Rufus quoth he thy fault far lesse then mine Needs must my plague be far exceeding thine To famous Bewclarke studiouslie he turnes VVho from Duke Robert doth the scepter wrest VVhose eyes put out in flintie Cardiffe mornes In Palestine who bare his conquering crest VVho though of Realmes of same not dispossest In all afflictions this may comfort thee Onely my shame in death remaines quoth hee Then comes he next to Stephens troublous state Plagu'd with the Empresse in continuall warre Yet with what patience he could beare his hate And lyke a wise-man rule his angry