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A16622
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The historie of that vvise and fortunate prince, Henrie of that name the seventh, King of England With that famed battaile, fought betweene the sayd King Henry and Richard the third named Crookbacke, upon Redmoore neere Bosworth. In a poem by Charles Aleyn.
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Aleyn, Charles, d. 1640.
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1638
(1638)
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STC 353; ESTC S100143
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58,428
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164
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Titulum ne horresce novantis Non rapit Imperium vis tua sed recipit Ausonius de Seuero THE HISTORIE OF That wise and Fortunate Prince HENRIE of that Name the Seventh King of England With that famed Battaile fought betweene the sayd King Henry and Richard the third named Crook-backe upon Redmoore neere Bosworth In a Poem by Charles Aleyn Vnus mihi pro populo populus pro uno London Printed by Tho. Cotes for William Cooke and are to be sold at his shop neere Furnivalls-Inne gate in Holburne 1638. Perlegi historicum hoc Poema dignumque judico quod Typis mandetur Tho. Wykes R. P. Episc. Lond. Chapell domest To his Ingenious friend Mr. Charles Aleyn on this his learned Poem Sume Superbiam Quaesitam meritis THinke not that these my weaker lines can raise Or to thy name or to thy worke a praise Yet give me leave to write and let these be The Testimonialls of my love to thee They 're no true Leigemen whosoe're disclaime Tribute of Prayse unto thy Henries name Who now by thee instated lives more high Than in the joyes of former Royalty And from thy hand receives a better Crowne Than was his Kingdomes Transitory one â—y thee he conquers Death and Time thy words â—â—eld him his honour more than could his swords And gaine a Nobler victory than he Obtained o're usurping Tyrannie Great Henry whom wise heaven did ordaine â—o blesse this Realme with thy most happy reigne No more dull Chronicle thy worth shall hold Or sullen prose thy Noble acts infold Behold the shrine wherein thy reverend story Shall ever be preserved and thy glory Fresh to all Ages then 't is just we give Praise to his name ' has made thine truely live Ed. Sherburne To my deare Friend Mr. Charles Aleyn WHen Fame had sayd thy Poem should come out Without a Dedication some did doubt If fame in that had told a truth but J Who knew her false boldly gave fame the lye For I was certaine that this booke by thee Was Dedicated to Eternity Thy true lover Ed. Prideaux THE HISTORIE OF HENRIE THE SEVENTH A Cesar or that Maximilian Who was our Henries learned Contemporary And his owne Annalist and Historian Could only pen our Henries commentary For onely light it selfe it selfe can show And none but Kings can write what Kings can doe Yet if those heights which with aspiring looke Doe over-top the rest are easilier found And with more certaine observation tooke By those who stand upon the lower ground Then Henries fame shall not disparrag'd be Although his Altitude be tooke by me Richard whose gummes his Birth-day armed saw Presage of cruelty will needes make true That dreaded signe for he against the Law After confinement Gray and Rivers slew For he the Devils Axiome did know If you depresse you must confound your foe Rivers and Gray must sacrificed be The sad oblation to Hastings power But to appease divine Astrea He Is offer'd next a Scaffold at the Tower His Altar was curses his Obits were And for the Priest an Executioner But here 's a story scarse hath Parallell For at the time those two destruction met At the same Day and houre Hastings fell As in a Clocke you see a 'larum set So was his Ruine set Heav'ns vengefull power Wheel'd Hastings fate and strooke him at an houre 'T was Policie Hastings should suffer next For he had done his worke when they were slaine Richard this doctrine borrow'd from a Text In Machiavell who did this knowledge gaine From Caesar Borgia Whom you doe imploy In mischiefe when 't is done you must destroy â—hen Richard did the Prince and Yorke oppresse For in the method of Confusion Th' other were humble premises unlesse The Prince and Yorke be the conclusion It seemes he would by their pure Crimson shed Turne Yorkes white Rose to the Lancastrian Red. Such Teares which from scorcht Phaetons sisters fell And in their fall did into Amber turne Would with their Ashes be proportion'd well Rich ashes worthy of so rich an urne For such sweete Corpses and such limmes as theirs No Tombe is fit but one congeal'd of teares Twin-brethren in their death 's What had they done O Richard sees a fault that they were in It is not Actuall but a Mortall one They Princes were 't was their Originall sinne Why should so sweete a Paire of Princes lacke Their Innocents Day in th' English Almanack Now here stand still and gaze their Father did Richard instruct Henry the sixt to Kill Their Father taught him by the blood he shed The Art how he his childrens blood should spill Who valew others blood at a low rate Make their owne cheaper to be higgled at The sword of vengeance which a single twine Held over Richards head must now drop downe With ruine at the point the Eye divine Hath spied a Hand that must lop off his Crowne Henry like Meleager must come o're And combat with this Caledonian Bore Fourth Edwards Queene and Henries mother plot The Vnion of her daughter and her sonne Both must be set as Flowers in Hymens Knot And the two Roses be conjoyn'd in one In Henries Royall Crowne there 's not a stone Gives it such lustre as this Vnion Fate did this Vnion to Henry owe In whom there was a union more rare The Heaven's doe not such a Conjunction show When the two highest Planets married are Scarse had the world seene such a union yet Where Wisdome Valour and where Fortune met But though the Queene and Lady had contriv'd Their Cabinet of councels close as his Who vow'd to burne his shirt if it conceiv'd But his least plot Yet all unlocked is By some false Key Kings have long hands and eares And then heare best when they have greatest feares Buckingham flies for this and monie 's bid For 's Head curs'd Banister the bargaine made And made his Lord his Ware and basely did Sell him for money which he ne'r was payd Ingratefull servant thou to him didst owe All that thou couldst and all thou couldst not doe Puissant Gold Redearth at first made man Now it makes Villaine this refined clod Can what nor love nor time nor valour can Iove could doe more in Gold than in a God Destruction surer comes and rattles lowder Out of a Mine of Gold than one of powder But Banister hath his merit this offence And treacherous Act his progenie betray'd To Heaven's revenge But why must Innocence Suffer for him stay there the Ancients made Divine Revenge to be the child of Night Shut to the Earths but open to heav'ns sight Th' immediate hand of Heav'n did scourge this sinne One sonne waâ— drown'd one sonne with lamenesse took White Leprous scales rough-cast his daughters skin His Eldest sonne was with a madnesse strooke And so unfit to be an heire that he Had not his portion oâ— humanitie But here I wonder Richard did not pay Such Traytors how can Richard justly looke For more such agents others
her plates The wreath of Conquest in a Generous minde Is an inducement to a moderation In all exalted spirits you shall finde Something of humblenesse for mitigation And Old Rome built as Marius thought best The Fane of Honour lower than the rest He conquer'd yet lay prostrate in the field His sacred Campe did like a Temple looke Where Henry first diâ— stand now Henry kneeld And chang'd his sword into a Prayer Booke And solemnely did a Te Deum say Heaven 's a kinde Creditour whom thankes can pay Care and his Crowne met at his Head together He is no sooner King but he must be An Oedipus and solve this riddle whether He 'le claime by Wife or Birth or Victory But for this Triple Knot Henry had stor'd A Tripple wedge and broke this threefold Cord. If by his Wife he in effect had sayd The line of Yorke was better than his owne Or why should man who is the womans Head To a womans hand doe Homage for a Crowne And Henry thought it an unkingly thing To have his Crowne indebted to his Ring Nor would he claime by Conquest or give part Vnto the sword for that would but affright The Realme to forc'd obedience and start Men into giddy subjects for it might Make their faith stagger and obedience reele If Henries Scepter had beene made of Steele At last his love to himselfe made the case plaine That Titles Royall in his blood did flow And every Veine was a Basilick veine This made him absolute Henry did know That Princes were most independent when Their Crownes doe hold of Nature not of men Having thus defin'd which sodainely was done For 's consultation and his choyse did goe Together in a Progresse he set on For London in a Coach unseene and so Appearing not some God appear'd to be Whom men adore and yet no shape doe see Then Orisons and Hymnes at Pauls were sung And as before Te Deum sung agen His Banners in the Church for offrings hung When Henry pray'd in th' Armie the Campe then Appear'd a Church when he his Banners rear'd Within the Church the Church a Camp appear'd Suspicion now whisper'd these aires about That Henry was not reall every head That could nor cleare yet could create this doubt That Henry never would with England wed And joyne with Yorke How can a sâ—eete enfold Two houses which a Kingdome could not hold This doubt had ground for he had given some Hope To match with Brettaigne But his case requir'd Some reservation and an other scope Than he pretended or than they desir'd In Common Tracts great actions must not goe Here that 's the Kings high way which fewest know To hush this talke he promis'd faithfully To match at home and make this noise appeare A Fable gotten in adultery Betweene a scandalous Tongue and itching Eare. Bad them trust Henry not the Buzze of Fame Which like some Hound opens where is no game His Coronation then he hastened Which that the title might be all his owne â—efore the marriage was accomplished â—east she might seeme a sharer in the Crowne For though in other loves 't is strange yet he Knew that his love might here his Riv all be â—nd for his Glory and his safety too â—e did erect the Guard Henry conjorn'd â—hings different in themselves what none could doe â—he two discordant Roses he combin'd And which have rarely beene allie'd by fate He did unite security and state â—hen cal'd a Parliament so to proclaime â—hat Iustice was the Rule he 'de governe by â—nd that a Crowne alone was not his ayme â—hus Hercules constelled in the skie Though with one hand he at the Crowne doth reach He doth the other to the Balance stretch There with a Generall Pardon he allaies The feares of th' Adverse Party he did finde That feare lodg'd in a subjects brest can raise A dangerous Passion as we see combind Th' Order of Causes in the Chaine of Fate So 't is in Passions if we feare we hate Statutes 'gainst Riots were enacted then By penalties to crush sedition I' th' shell for a confused Masse of men Is as the Chaos whence Rebellion Is first created and all Riots are The seedes and Elements of Civill warre The Parliament dissolved he begunne To make his summer Progresse with his shine To cleare the Northerne ayre and like the sunne To Cancer did approach the Tropicke signe And warming there the Yorke-addicted Hearts He made the Summer Solstice in those parts Stafford and Lovell now who had not dar'd To leave their Sanctuaries had he beene neare Rise in the South like some new starres nor feard The King thus distant boldly to appeare Like Venus shine at noone if she doth runne Her greatest Elongation from the sunne Lord Lovell with his powrs advancing forth March'd towards Yorke the King to let them know He was in 's Zodiack still though so farre North Did suddenly against the Rebels goe In civill discords a delay may be More dangerous than a temeritie But by his Heralds first he pardons sent So Tamberlane sent his white flagge before Henry by lenitives not corsives meant Those ulcerated members to restore No soldier but a Herald nor a blow But strange a Pardon overthrew the foe The best of Trophees chiefely when the warre Is betweene King and subject those are best Complexion'd conquests which least sanguine are And those most modest which doe blush the least Camillus once was by Romes Senate thought Worthy to Triumph though he had not fought And greatest Trophee too they layd their hearts At Henries feete to be triumphed o're And yeelded their mindes captive which imparts The bravest glory to the Conquerour For 't is more hard to reconcile than kill For you may force ones pow'r but not his will After this Northerne blast was overblowne The King is made the Father of a Sonne Arturus cal'd after whose birth did frowne State-tempests in the land new stormes begun To shake his throne thus tempests beate the skies Soone as that starre which beares his name doth rise A new King is in making who pretended Fourth Edwards blood and that his line was not Broke off nor yet his lawfull issue ended And when a King a Prince of Wales had got A Priest steps in and undertakes to get A Duke of Yorke or a Plantagenet A Bakers sonne the Preist intends to mold Into a Prince a matter that would sute Well wrought with any feature how they could Transchange the Bakers bread I le not dispute This act is almost of as high a state The Bakers sonne he 'le Transubstantiate First he resolv'd his scenicke Prince should play The Duke of Yorke but when he heard the King Purpos'd to make Plantagenet away He chang'd his Theame and his Mercuriall thing Must act young Warwicke when this Prince is slaine Enter his Ghost new conjur'd up againe The Boy was capable all formes t' admit Like the Materia prima and might be By some Philosopher mistooke