then begin Nursing vile wits to make them factious tooles Thus mighty men oft prooue the mightiest fooles The Senate wronged by the Senator And iustice made iniustice by delayes Next innouation playes the Orator Counsels vncounseld Death defers no dayes And plagues but plagues alow no other playes And when one lyfe makes hatefull many liues Caesar though Caesar dyes with swords and kniues Now for the Cleargie Peers and Laietie Against the King must resignation make Th'elected Senate of the Emperie To Kenelworth are come the Crowne to take Sorrowe hath yet but slept and now awake In solemne sort each one doth take his place The partiall Iudges of poore Edwards case From his imprisoning chamber cloth'd in black Before the great assemblie he is brought A dolefull hearse vpon a dead-mans back VVhose heauie lookes might tell his heauie thought Greefe neede no fayned action to be taught His Funerall solemniz'd in his cheere His eyes the Mourners and his legs the Beere His fayre red cheeks clad in pale sheets of shame And for a dumbe shew in a swound began VVhere passion doth strange sort of passion frame And euery sence a right Tragedian Exceeding farre the compasse of a man By vse of sorrow learning nature arte Teaching Dispayre to act a liuely part Ah Pitty doost thou liue or art thou not Some say such sights men vnto flints haue turned Or Nature else thy selfe hast thou forgot Or is it but a tale that men haue mourned That water euer drown'd or fire burned Or haue teares left to dwell in humaine eyes Or euer man to pitty miseries Hee takes the Crowne and closely hugs it to him And smiling in his greese he leanes vpon it Then doth hee frowne because it would forgoe him Then softly stealing layes his vesture on it Then snatching at it loth to haue forgone it Hee put it from him yet hee will not so And yet retaines what fayne he would forgoe Like as a Mother ouer-charg'd with woe Her onely chylde now laboring in death Doing to helpe it nothing yet can doe Though with her breath she faine would giue it breath Still saying yet forgetting what shee sayth Euen so with poore King Edward doth it fare Leauing his Crowne the first-borne of his care In thys confused conflict of the minde Tears drowning sighes and sighes confounding tears Yet when as neyther any ease could finde And extreame griefe doth somwhat harden feares Sorrow growes sencelesse when too much she bears VVhilst speech silence striues which place should take VVith words halfe spoke he silently bespake I clayme no Crowne quoth he by vise oppression Nor by the law of Nations haue you chose mee My Fathers title groundeth my succession Nor in your power is cullor to depose mee By heauens decree I stand they must dispose mee A lawles act in an vnlawfull thing VVith-drawes allegiance but vncrownes no King VVhat God hath sayd to one is onely due Can I vsurpe by tyrannizing might Or take what by your birth-right falls to you Roote out your houses blot your honors light By publique rule to rob your publique right Then can you take what he could not that gaue it Because the heauens commaunded I should haue it My Lords quoth hee commend me to the King Heere doth he pause fearing his tongue offended Euen as in child-birth forth the word doth bring Sighing a full poynt as he there had ended Yet striuing as his speech he would haue mended Things of small moment we can scarcely hold But griefes that tuch the hart are hardly told Heere doth he weepe as he had spoke in tears Calming this tempest with a shower of raine VVhispering as he would keepe it from his ears Doe my alegiance to my Soueraigne Yet at this word heere doth he pause againe Yes say euen so quoth he to him you beare it If it be Edward that you meane shall weare it Keepe hee the Crowne with mee remaine the curse A haplesse Father haue a happy Sonne Take he the better I endure the worse The plague to end in mee in mee begun And better may he thriue then I haue done Let him be second Edward and poore I For euer blotted out of memorie Let him account his bondage from the day That he is with the Diadem inuested A glittering Crowne doth make the haire soone gray VVithin whose circle he is but arested In all his feasts hee's but with sorrowe feasted And when his feete disdaine to tuch the mold His head a prysoner in a Iayle of gold In numbring of his subiects numbring care And when the people doe with shouts begin Then let him thinke theyr onely prayers are That he may scape the danger he is in The multitude be multitudes of sin And hee which first doth say God saue the King Hee is the first doth newes of sorrow bring His Commons ills shall be his priuate ill His priuate good is onely publique care His will must onely be as others will Himselfe not as he is as others are By Fortune dar'd to more then Fortune dare And he which may commaund an Empery Yet can he not intreat his liberty Appeasing tumults hate cannot appease Sooth'd with deceits and fed with flatteries Displeasing to himselfe others to please Obey'd asmuch as he shall tyrannize Feare forcing friends enforcing Enemies And when hee sitteth vnder his estate His foote-stoole danger and his chayre is hate He King alone no King that once was one A King that was vnto a King that is I am vnthron'd and hee enioyes my throne Nor should I suffer that nor he doe this He takes from mee what yet is none of his Young Edward clymes old Edward falleth downe King'd and vnking'd he crown'd farwell my crowne Princes be Fortunes chyldren and with them Shee deales as Mothers vse theyr babes to still Vnto her darling giues a Diadem A pretty toy his humor to fulfill And when a little they haue had theyr will Looke what shee gaue shee taketh at her pleasure Vsing the rod when they are out of measure But policie who still in hate did lurke And yet suspecteth Edward is not sure VVaying what blood with Leicester might worke Or else what friends his name might yet procure A guilty conscience neuer is secure From Leisters keeping cause him to be taken Alas poore Edward now of all forsaken To Gurney and Matrauers he is giuen O let theyr act be odious to all ears And beeing spoke stirre clowdes to couer heauen And be the badge the wretched murtherer bears The wicked oth whereby the damned swears But Edward in thy hell thou must content thee These be the deuils which must still torment thee Hee on a leane ilfauored beast is set Death vpon Famine moralizing right His cheeks with tears his head with raigne bewet Nights very picture wandring still by night VVhen he would sleep like dreams they him affright His foode torment his drinke a poysoned bayne No other comfort but in deadly paine And yet because they feare to
most should make it lesse Heere noble Herford Bohun breathes his last Crowne of true Knight-hood flower of Chiualrie But Lancaster their torment liues to tast VVho perrish now with endlesse obloquie O vanquisht conquest loosing victorie That where the sword for pittie leaues to spill There extreame iustice should begin to kill O subiect for some tragick Muse to sing Of fiue great Earledomes at one time possest Sonne Vnckle Brother Grandchild to a King VVith fauours friends and earthly honours blest But see on earth heere is no place of rest These Fortunes gyfts and she to shew her power Takes lyfe and these and all within an hower The wretched Mother tearing of her hayre Bewayles the time this fatall warre begunne Lyke graue-borne gosts amaz'd and mad with feare To view the quartered carkasse of her Sonne VVith hideous shreeks through streetes wayes doth runne And seeing none to help none heare her crye Some drownd some stabd some starud some strangled die Lyke gastly death the aged Father stands VVeeping his Sonne bemoning of his vvife Shee murthered by her owne blood-guiltie hands Hee flaughtered by the executioners knife Sadly sits downe to ende his hatefull life Banning the earth and cursing at the ayre Vpon his poyniard falleth in dispayre The wofull widdowe for her Lord distrest VVhose breathlesse body cold death doth benum Her little Infant leaning on her breast Rings in her eares when will my Father come Doth wish that she were deafe or it were dombe Clipping each other weeping both togeather Shee for her Lord the poore babe for his Father The ayre is poysned with the dampie stinck VVhich most contagious pestilence doth breed The glutted earth her fill of gore doth drinck VVhich from vnburied bodies doth proceede Rauens and dogs on dead men onely feede In euery Coast thus doe our eyes behold Our sinnes by iudgement of the heauens controld Lyke as a VVolfe returning from the foyle Hauing full stuft his flesh-engorged panch Tumbles him downe to wallowe in the soyle VVith cooling breath his boyling mawe to stanch Scarce able now to mooue his lustlesse hanch Thus after slaughter Edward breathlesse stood As though his sword had surfeted with blood Heere endeth life yet heere death cannot end And heere begins what Edwards woes begun Nor his pretence falls as he doth pretend Nor hath he wone what he by battell wone All is not done though almost all vndone VVhilst power hath raign'd still policie did lurke Seldome doth mallice want a meane to worke The King now by the conquering Lords consent VVho by this happie victorie grew strong Summons at Yorke a present Parliament To plant his right and helpe the Spensers wrong From whence agayne his minions greatnes sprung VVhose counsell still in all their actions crost Th'inraged Queene whom all misfortunes tost But miseries which seldome come alone Thicke in the necks one of another fell Meane while the Scots heere make inuasion And Charles of France doth thence our powers expell The grieued Commons more and more rebell Mischiefe on mischiefe curse doth followe curse Plague after plague and worse ensueth worse For Mortimer this wind yet rightly blewe Darckning their eyes which else perhaps might see VVhilst Isabell who all aduantage knewe Is closely plotting his deliuerie Now fitly drawne by Torltons policie Thus by a Queene a Bishop and a Knight To check a King in spight of all dispight A drowsie potion shee by skill hath made VVhose secret working had such wonderous power As could the sence with heauie sleepe inuade And mortifie the patient in one hower As though pale death the body did deuower Nor for two dayes might opened be his eyes By all meanes Arte or Phisicke could deuise Thus sits this great Enchauntresse in her Cell Inuironed with spyrit-commaunding charmes Her body censed with most sacred smell VVith holy fiers her liquors now shee warmes Then her with sorcering instruments she armes And from her hearbs the powerfull iuyce she wrong To make the poyson forcible and strong Reason might iudge doubts better might aduise And as a woman feare her hand haue stayd VVaying the strangenesse of the interprize The daunger well might haue her sex dismayd Fortune distrust suspect to be betrayd But when they leaue of vertue to esteeme They greatly erre which thinke them as they seeme Their plighted fayth when as they list they leaue Their loue is cold their lust hote hote their hate VVith smiles and teares these Serpents doe deceaue In their desires they be insatiate Their will no bound and their reuenge no date All feare exempt where they at ruine ayme Couering their sinne with their discouered shame Medea pittifull in tender yeares Vntill with Iason she would take her flight Then mercilesse her Brothers lymmes she teares Betrayes her Father flyes away by night Nor Nations Seas nor daungers could affright VVho dyed with heate nor could abide the wind Now like a Tigar falls vnto her kind Now waits the Queene fitt'st time as might behoue Their ghostly Father for their speed must pray Their seruants seale these secrets vp with loue Their friends must be the meane the guide the way And he resolue on whom the burthen lay This is the summe the all if this neglected Neuer againe were meane to be expected Thus while hee liu'd a prysoner in the Towre The Keepers oft with feasts he entertaind VVhich as a stale serues fitly at this howre The tempting bayte wher-with his hookes were traind 〈◊〉 banquet now he had ordaind And after cates when they their thirst should quench He sawc'd their wine with thys approoued drench And thus become the keeper of the kayes In steele-bound locks he safely lodg'd the Guard Then lurking forth by the most secret wayes Not now to learne his compasse by the Card VVith corded ladders which hee had prepard Now vp these proude aspyring walls doth goe VVhich seeme to scorne they should be mastred so They soundly sleepe now must his wits awake A second Theseus through a hells extreames The sonne of Ioue new toyles must vndertake Of walls of gates of watches woods and streame And let them tell King Edward of their dreames For ere they wak'd out of this brainsick traunce He hopes to tell thys noble iest in Fraunce The sullen night in mistie rugge is wrapp'd Powting the day had tarryed vp so long The Euening in her darksome dungion clapp'd And in that place the swarty clowdes were hong Downe from the VVest the half-fac'd Cynthia flong As shee had posted forth to tell the Sonne VVhat in his absence in her Court was done The glymmering starr's like Sentinels in warre Behind the Clowdes as thieues doe stand to pry And through false loope-holes looking out a farre To see him skirmish with his destenie As they had held a counsell in the Sky And had before consulted with the night Shee should be darke and they would hide their light In deadly silence all the shores are hush'd Onely the Shreechowle sounds to the assault And Isis
hate Let neuer ages sing but of thy praise My blood shall pacifie the angry Fate And cancell thus our sorrowes long-liu'd date And treble ten times longer last thy fame Then that strong Tower thou calledst by my name To Nottingham this Letter brought vnto her VVhich is endorsed with her glorious stile Shee thinks the title yet againe doth wooe her And with that thought her sorrowes doth beguile Smyling on that thinks that on her doth smyle Shee kissing it to counteruaile her paine Tuching her lip it giues the kisse againe Faire workmanship quoth she of that faire hand All-moouing organ sweet spheare-tuning kay The Messenger of Ioues sleep-charming wand Pully which draw'st the curtaine of the Day Pure Trophies reard to guide on valurs way VVhat paper-blessing Charrecters are you VVhose louely forme that louelier engine drew Turning the Letter seal'd shee doth it find VVith those rich Armes borne by his glorious name VVhere-with this dreadfull euidence is sign'd O badge of honour greatest marke of fame Braue shield quoth she which once froÌ„ heauen came Fayre robe of tryumph Ioues celestiall state To all immortall prayses consecrate Going about to rip the sacred seale VVhich cleaues least clowdes too soone should dim her eyes As loth it were her sorrowes to reueale Quoth shee thy Maister taught thee secrecies The soft waxe with her fingers tuch doth rise Shee asketh it who taught thee thus to kisse I know quoth she thy Maister taught thee thys Opening the Letter Empresse shee doth reed At which a blush from her faire cheekes arose And with Ambrozia still her thoughts doth feed And with a seeming ioy doth paint her woes Then to subscribed Mortimer shee goes March following it ô March great March she cryes VVhich speaking word euen seemingly replyes Thus hath shee ended yet shee must begin Euen as a fish playing with a bayted hooke Now shee begins to swallow sorrow in And Death doth shewe himselfe at euery looke Now reads shee in her liues accounting Booke And findes the blood of her lost friend had payd The deepe expenses which shee forth had layd Now with an host of wofull words assayl'd As euery letter wounded lyke a dart As euery one would boast which most preuayl'd And euery one would pierce her to the hart Rethoricall in woe and vsing Art Reasons of greefe each sentence doth infer And euere lyne a true remembrancer Greefe makes her read yet greefe still bids her leaue Ore-charg'd with greefe she neither sees nor heares Her sorrowes doe her sences quite deceaue The words doe blind her eyes the sound her eares And now for vescues doth she vse her teares And when a lyne shee loosely ouer-past The drops doe tell her where shee left the last O now she sees was euer such a sight And seeing curs'd her sorrow-seeing eye And sayth shee is deluded by the light Or is abus'd by the Orthography Or poynted false her schollershyp to try Thus when we fondly sooth our owne desires Our best conceits doe prooue the greatest lyers Her trembling hand as in a Feuer shakes VVherwith the paper doth a little stirre VVhich shee imagins at her sorrow quakes And pitties it who shee thinks pitties her And moning it bids it that greefe refer Quoth shee Ile raine downe showers of tears on thee VVhen I am dead weepe them againe on mee Quoth shee with odors were thy body burned As is Th'arabian byrd against the sunne Againe from cynders yet thou should'st be turned And so thy life another age should runne Nature enuying it so soone was done Amongst all byrds one onely of that straine Amongst all men one Mortimer againe I will preserue thy ashes in some Vrne VVhich as a relique I will onely saue VVhich mixed with my tears as I doe mourne VVithin my stomack shall theyr buriall haue Although deseruing a farre better graue Yet in that Temple shall they be preserued VVhere as a Saint thou euer hast been serued Be thou trans-form'd vnto some sacred tree VVhose precious gum may cure the fainting hart Or to some hearbe yet turned mayst thou be VVhose iuyce apply'd may ease the strongest smart Or flower whose leaues thy vertues may impart Or stellified on Pegase loftie crest Or shyning on the Nemian Lyons brest I thinke the Gods could take them mortall shapes As all the world may by thy greatnes gather And Ioue in some of his light wanton scapes Committed pretty cusnage with thy father Or else thou wholy art celestiall rather Els neuer could it be so great a minde Could seated be in one of earthly kind And if as some affirme in euery starre There be a world then must some world be thine Else shall thy ghost inuade their bounds with warre If such can mannage armes as be deuine That here thou hadst no world the fault was mine And gracelesse Edward kinling all this fier Trod in the dust of his vnhappy sier It was not Charles that made Charles what he was VVhereby he quickly to that greatnes grew Nor strooke such terror which way he did passe Nor our olde Grand-siers glory did renew But it thy valure was which Charles well knew VVhich hath repulst his Enemies with feare VVhen they but heard the name of Mortimer In Books and Armes consisted thy delight And thy discourse of Campes and grounds of state No Apish fan-bearing Hermophradite Coch-carried midwyfe weake effeminate Quilted and ruft which manhood euer hate A Carâ— when in counsell thou didst sit A Hercules in executing it Now shee begins to curse the King her Sonne The Earle of March then comes vnto her mind Then shee with blessing ends what shee begun And leaues the last part of the curse behind Then with a vowe shee her reuenge doth bind Vnto that vowe shee ads a little oth Thus blessing cursing cursing blessing both For pen and inke shee calls her mayds without And Edwards dealing will in greefe discouer But straight forgetting what shee went about Shee now begins to write vnto her louer Yet interlyning Edwards threatnings ouer Then turning back to read what shee had writ Shee teyrs the paper and condemnes her wit Thus with the pangs out of this traunce arâ—ysed As water some-time wakeneth from a swound Comes to her selfe the agonie apeysed As when the blood is cold we feele the wound And more and more sith she the cause had found Thus vnto Edward with reuenge shee goes And hee must beare the burthen of her woes I would my lap had beene some cruell Racke His Cradell Phalaris burning-bellyed Bull And Nessus shyrt beene put vpon his backe His Blanket of some Nilus Serpents wooll His Dug with iuice of Acconite beene full The song which luld him when to sleepe he fell Some Incantation or some Magique spell And thus King Edward since thou art my Child Some thing of force to thee I must bequeath March of my harts true loue hath thee beguild My curse vnto thy bosome doe I breath And heere inuoke the wretched spirits beneath To see all things perform'd to my intent Make them ore-seers of my Testament And thus within these mighty walls inclos'd Euen as the Owles so hatefull of the light Vnto repentance euer more dispos'd Heere spend my dayes vntill my last dayes night And hence-forth odious vnto all mens sight Flye euery small remembrance of delight A penitentiall mournfull conuertite FINIS Roger Mortimer his Grand-father who kept 〈…〉 table â—â— Kenelworth Adam Torlton Bishop of Herford a mighty polititian â—urton vpon â—rent â—eedwood Aquary a notable souldier Bohun stain at Borogh Thomas the great Earle of Lancaster Wigmore the ancient house of the Mortimers Iohn of Henault The Londeners set all the prisoners at liberty Robert Short-thigh Duke of Normandy sort inter â—se-score nights in retiâ—â—e The fiue Articles wherevpon Mortimer is condemned
they perforce their high-borne top must vayle This storme still blew so stifly on their sayle Of Edwards mercy now the depth must sound VVhere yet their Ankor might take hold on ground This tooke the King in presage of his good VVho this euent to his successe apply'd VVhich coold the furie of his boyling blood Before their force in armes he yet had try'd His sterne approch this easely molified That on submission he dismist theyr power And sends them both as prisoners to the Tower Not cowardize but wisedome warnes to yield VVhen Fortune aydes the proud insulting foe Before dishonour euer blot the field VVhere by aduantage hopes agayne may growe VVhen as too weake to beare so great a blowe That whilst his pittie pardons them to liue To his owne wrongs he full reuenge might giue LOe now my Muse must sing of dreadfull Armeâ— And taske her selfe to tell of ciuill vvarres Of Ambuscados stratagems alarmes Of murther slaughter monstrous Massacarres Of blood of wounds of neuer-healed scarres Of battailes fought by brother against brother The Sonne and Father one against the other O thou great Lady Mistris of my Muse Renowned Lucie vertues truest frend VVhich doest a spyrit into my spyrit infuse And from thy beames the light I haue dost lend Into my verse thy lyuing power extend O breathe new lyfe to write this Tragicke storie Assist me now braue Bedford for thy glorie VVhilst in the Tower the Mortimers are mew'd The Barrons drew their forces to a head VVhom Edward spurd with vengeance still pursu'd By Lancaster and famous Herford led Toward eithers force forth-with both Armies sped At Burton both in camping for the day VVhere they must trye who beares the spurres away Vpon the East from bushie Needwoods side There riseth vp an easie clyming hill At whose fayre foote the siluer Trent doth slide And all the shores with ratling murmure â—ill VVhose tumbling waues the flowrie Meadowes swill Vpon whose streame a Bridge of wondrous strength Doth stretch her selfe neere fortie Arches length Vpon this mount the King his Tents hath fixt And in the Towne the Barrons lye in sight This famous Ryuer risen so betwixt VVhose furie yet prolong'd this deadly fight The passage stopp'd not to be wonne by might Things which presage both good and ill there bee VVhich heaâ—en fore-shewes yet will not let vs see The raging flood hath drownd vp all her foards Sok'd in excesse of cloud-congealed teares And steepes the bancks within her watrie hoards Supping the whir-pooles from the quaggie mears Now doth shee washe her tressed rushie hayrs Swolne with the dropsie in her grieued woombe That this her channell must become a Toombe O warlike Nation hold thy conquering hand Euen sencelesse things doe warne thee yet to pawse Thy Mother soyle on whom thy feete doe stand O then infrindge not Natures sacred lawes Still runne not headlong into mischiefes iawes Yet stay thy foote in murthers vgly gate Ill comes too soone repentance ost too late And can the cloudes weepe ouer thy decay Yet not one drop fall from thy droughtie eyes Seest thou the snare yet wilt not shunne the way Nor yet be warn'd by passed miseries Or ere too late yet learne once to be wise A mischiefe seene may easely be preuented But beeing hap'd not help'd yet still lamented Behold the Eagles Lyons Talbots Bears The Badges of your famous ancestries And shall they now by their inglorious heyrs Be thus displayd against their families Reliques vnworthie of theyr progenies Those Beastes you beare doe in their kinds agree And then those Beasts more sauage will you bee Cannot the Scot of your late slaughter boast And are you yet scarce healed of the sore Is't not inough you haue already lost But your owne madnes now must make it more Your VViues and Children pittied you before But when your own blood your own swords imbrue VVho pitties them which once haue pittied you VVhat shall the Sister weepe her Brothers death VVho sent her Husband to his timelesse graue The Nephewe moane his Vnckles losse of breath VVhich did his Father of his lyfe depraue VVho shall haue mind your memories to saue â—r shall he buriall to his friend afford VVho lately put his Sonne vnto the sword But whilst the King and Lords in counsell sit Yet in conclusion variably doe houer See how misfortune still her time can fit Such as were sent the Country to discouer Haue found a way to land their forces ouer Ill newes hath wings and with the winde doth goe Comfort's a Cripple and comes euer slow And Edward fearing Lancasters supplyes Great Surry Richmond and his Pembrooke sent On whose successe his chiefest hope relyes Vnder whose conduct halfe his Armie went And he himselfe and Edmond Earle of Kent Vpon the hill in sight of Burton lay VVatching to take aduantage of the day Stay Surry stay thou maist too soone begon Stay till this rage be some-what ouer-past VVhy runn'st thou thus to thy destruction Pembrooke and Richmond whether doe you hast Neuer seeke sorrow for it comes too fast VVhy striue you thus to passe this fatall flood To fetch new wounds and shed your neerest blood Great Lancaster sheath vp thy conquering sword On Edwards Armes whose edge thou should'st not whet Thy naturall Nephew and thy soueraigne Lord Both one one blood and both Plantaginet Canst thou thy oth to Longshanks thus forget Yet call to minde before all other things Our vowes must be perform'd to Gods and Kings Knowe noble Lord it better is to end Then to proceed in things rashly begun VVhich oâ—t ill counseld worser doe offend Speech hath obtaind where weapons haue not won By good perswasion what cannot be done And when all other hopes and helps be past Then fall to Armes but let that be the last The winds are husht no little breth doth blow The calmed ayre as all amazed stood The earth with roring trembleth below The Sunne besmear'd his glorious face in blood The fearfull Heards bellowing as they were wood The Drums and Trumpets giue a signall sound VVith such a noyse as they had torne the ground The Earles now charging with three hundred horse The Kings vantgard assay the Bridge to win Forcing the Barrons to deuide their force T'auoyde the present danger they were in Neuer till now the horror doth begin That if th'elements our succour had not sought All had that day beene to confusion brought Now froÌ„ the hill the Kings maine power comes downe VVhich had Aquarius to their valiant guide Braue Lancaster and Herford from the towne Doe issue forth vpon the other side The one assailes the other munified Englands Red crosse vpon both sides doth flye Saint George the King Saint George the Barrons cry Euen as a bustling tempests rouzing blasts Vpon a Forrest of old-branched Oakes Downe vpon heapes their climing bodies casts And with his furie teyrs their mossy loaks The neighbour groues resounding with the stroaks VVith such a clamor and confused woe To get
the Bridge these desperate Armies goe Now must our famous and victorious bowes VVith which our Nation Kingdoms did subdue First send their darting arrowes against those VVhose sinewed armes against their foes them drew These winged weapons mourning as they flew Cleaue to the strings with very terror slack As to the Archers they would faine turne back The battered Caskes with Battel-Axes strokes Besnow the soyle with drifts of scattered plumes The trampling presse stirre vp such duskie smokes VVhich choke the ayre with reekie smothering fumes VVhich rising vp into a clowde consumes As though the heauen had muffled her in black Lothing to see this lamentable sack Behold the remnant of Troyes famous stocke Laying on blowes as Smithes on Anuiles strike Grappling together in this fearfull shock The like presse forth t'incounter with the like And then reculing to the push of pyke Yet not a foote doth eyther giue to eyther Now one the ods then both alike then neither Euen as you see a field of standing Corne VVhen in faire Iune some easie gale doth blow How vp and downe the spyring eares are borne And with the blasts like Billowes come and goe As golden streamers wauing to and fro Thus on the suddaine runne they on amaine Then straight by force are driuen backe againe Heer lyes a heap halfe slaine halfe chok'd halfe drownd Gasping for breth amongst the slymie seggs And there a sort falne in a deadly swound Scrawling in blood vpon the muddy dreggs Heere in the streame swim bowels armes and leggs One kills his foe his braine another cuts Ones feet intangled in anothers guts One his owne hands in his owne blood defiles Another from the Bridges height doth fall Some dash'd to death vpon the stony pyles Some in theyr gore vpon the pauement sprall The carkasses lye heaped like a wall Such hideous shreeks the bedlam Souldiers breath As though the Spirits had howled from beneath The mangled bodies diuing in the streame Now vp now downe like tumbling Porpose swim The water couer'd with a bloody creame To the beholder horrible and grim Heere lies a head and there doth lye a lym VVhich in the sands the swelling waters souse That all the shores seeme like a slaughter-house It seem'd the very wounds for griefe did weepe To feele the temper of the slicing blade The sencelesse steele in blood it selfe did steepe To see the wounds his sharpe-ground edge had made VVhilst kinsman kinsman friend doth friend inuade Such is the horror of these ciuill broyles VVhen with our blood we fat our natiue soyles This faction still defying Edwards might Edmond of VVoodstock famous Earle of Kent Charging the foe againe renewes the fight Vpon the Barrons forces almost spent VVho now againe supplying succours sent And now a second conflict doth begin The English Lords like Tygars flying in Like as an exhalation hote and dry Amongst the ayre-bred moyftie vapors throwne Spetteth his lightning forth outragiously Renting the thick clowdes with a thunder-stone As though the huge all-couering heauen did grone Such is the garboyle of this conflict then Braue Englishmen encountring Englishmen Euen as proude Pyrrhùs entring Iltion Couragious Talbot with his shield him bare Clifford and Moubray seconding anon Audley and Gifford thrunging for their share Elmbridge and Balsmer in the thickest are Pell-mell together flyes this furious power Like to the falling of some mighty Tower Mountfort and Teis your worths faine would I speake But that your valure can but ill deserue Braue Denuile heere I from thy prayse must breake And from thy prayses VVillington must swarue Great Damory heere must thy glory starue Concealing many most deseruing blame Because their acts doe quench my sacred flame O that those Armes in conquests had been borne And that that battered fame-engrauen shield Should in those ciuill massacres be torne VVhich bare the marks of many a bloody field O that our armes had power their Armes to weeld That since that time the stones for very dreed Against foule stormes could teary moisture sheed O had you shap'd your valures first by them VVho summon'd Akon with an English drum Or marched on to faire Ierusalem T'inlarge the bounds of famous Christendome Or with Christs warriors slept about his toombe Then ages had immortaliz'd your fame VVhere now my song can be but of your shame Death following on feare euer in their eyes Grieued with wounds the conquered Barrons fled And now the King enrich'd with victories Hath in the field his glorious Ensignes spred This in his thoughts againe fresh courage bred And somwhat drawes th'vnconstant peoples harts VVho equall peyz'd yet way'd to neither parts And wanting ground they vnresolued are King Edwards friends agaynst the rebels cry The Barrons plead their Countries onely care Exclayming on the Princes tyrannie Hee vrg'd obedience they their libertie Both vnder colour carefull of the state Hee right and they their wrongs expostulate Some fewe them selues in Sanctuaries hide In mercie of the priuiledged place Yet are their bodyes so vnsanctifide As scarce their soules can euer hope for grace A poore dead lyfe this draweth out a space Hate stands without and horror sits within Prolonging shame yet pard'ning not their sinne At fatall Pomfret gathering head at length VVhen they of all extreamities had tasted VVhere yet before they could recouer strength King Edward followeth whilst his fortune lasted Vnto whose ayde the Earle of Carlell hasted VVith troupes of bow-men and ranck-riding bands Of VVestmer Cumber and Northumberlands Mad and amaz'd nor knowing what to doe Surpriz'd by this late mischieuous euent Seeing at hand their vtter ouerthrowe And in despight how crossely all things went Fortune her selfe to their destruction bent In all disorder head-long on they runne To end with blood what was with blood begunne Lyke as a heard of silly hartlesse Deare VVhom hote-spurd Huntsmen fiercely doe pursue In brakes and bushes falling heere and there Yet when no way the hounds they can eschew Now flying back from whence of late they flew Hem'd on each side with hornes rechating blast Head-long them selues into the toyles doe cast To Borough bridge by fate appoynted thus VVhere lyke false Raynard falser Herckley lay Bridges to Barrons euer ominous There to renewe this latest deadly fray O heere begins the blackest dismall day The birth of horror hower of wrath that yet The very soyle seemes to remember it Heere is not Death contented with the dead Nor vengeance is with vengeance satisfied Blood-shed by blood-shed still is nourished And mischiefe meanes no more her store to hide Strange sorts of torments heauen doth now prouide That dead men should in miserie remayne And in lyuing death should dye with payne Thus rules the world a world why sawe I so VVorst is the world yet worser must I name it Nights vgli'st night hells bitter'st hell of woe So ill as slaunder neuer can defame it That shame her selfe is sham'd seeking to shame it Could enuie speake what enuie can expresse In saying most that
Edwards will is so But soft a while shee meaneth no such thing He's not so swift but shee is twice as slowe No hast but good this message backe to bring Another tune he must be taught to sing VVhich to his hart more deadly is by far Then cryes of ghosts or Mandrakes shreekings are Stapleton who had beene of their counsell long Or woonne with gifts or else of childish feare Or mou'd in conscience with King Edwards wrong Or pittying him or hate to them did beare Or of th'euent that now he did dispaire This Bishop backe from Fraunce to Edward flewe And knowing all discouered all he knewe The platforme of this enterprize disclosd And Torltons drift by circumstances found VVith what conueyance all things are disposd The cunning vsd in laying of the ground And vvith what Art this curious trayle is woond Awakes the King to see his owne estate VVhen to preuent he comes a day too late Isabell the time doth still and still reiorne Charles as a Brother with perswasions deales Edward with threats doth hasten her retorne Pope Iohn with Bulls and curses hard assailes Perswasions curses threats no whit preuailes Chales Edward Iohn Pope Princes doe your worst The Queene fares best when she the most is curst The Spensers who the French-mens humors felt And with their Soueraigne had deuisd the draught VVith Prince and Peers now vnder hand had delt In golden nets who were alreadie caught And nowe King Charles they haue so throughlie wrought That he with sums too slightly ouerwaid Poore Isabells hopes now in the dust are layd Thou base desier thou graue of all good harts Corsiue to kindnes bawd to beastly will Monster of time defrauder of desarts Thou plague which doest both loue and vertue kill Honours abuser friendships greatest ill If curse in hell there worse then other bee I pray that curse may trebled light on thee Nor can all these amaze this mighty Queene VVho vvith affliction neuer was controld Neuer such courage in her sex was seene Nor was she cast in other womens mould But can endure vvarres trauell want and cold Strugling with Fortune nere with greefe opprest Most cheerefull still when she was most distrest Thus she resolu'd to leaue vngratefull France And in the world her fortune yet to trye Chaunging the ayre hopes time will alter chance As one whose thoughts with honors wings doe flye Her mighty mind still scorning miserie Yet ere she went her greeued hart to heale Shee rings King Charles this dolefull parting peale Is this the trust I haue repos'd quoth shee And to this end to thee my griefes haue told Is this the kindnes that thou offerest mee And in thy Country am I bought and sold In all this heate art thou become so cold Came I to Fraunce in hope to find a frend And now in thee haue all my hopes their end Phillip quoth shee thy Father neuer was But some base peasant or some slauish hind Neuer did Kingly Lyon get an Asse Nor cam'st thou of that Princely Eagles kind But sith thy hatefull cowardise I find Sinke thou thy power thy Country ayde and all Thou barbarous Moore thou most vnnaturall Thou wert not Sonne vnto the Queene my mother Nor wert conceiued in her sacred woombe Some misbegotten changeling not my Brother O that thy Nurses armes had beene thy Toombe Or thy birth-day had beene the day of the doombe Neuer was Fortune with such error led As when shee plac'd a Crowne vpon thy head And for my farewell this I prophecie That from my loynes that glorious fruite shall spring VVhich shall tread downe that base posteritie And lead in tryumph thy succeeding King To fatall Fraunce I as Sibilla sing Her Citties sackd the ruine of her men VVhen of the English one shall conquer ten Beumount who had in Fraunce this shufling seene VVhose soule with kindnes Isabell had wonne To flye to Henault now perswades the Queene Assuring her what good might there be done Offering his Neece vnto the Prince her Sonne The onely meane to bend his brothers might Against King Edward and to back her right This worthy Lord experienc'd long in armes VVhom Isabell with many fauours grac'd VVhose Princely blood the brute of conquest warmes In whose great thoughts the Queene was highly plac'd Greeuing to see her succours thus defac'd Hath cast this plot which managed with heed Sith all doe fayle should onely helpe at need Shee who but lately had her Ankors wayd And sawe the cloudes on euery side to rise Nor now can stay vntill the streame be stayd Nor harbour till the cleering of the skies VVho though she rou'd the marke stil in her eyes Accepts his offer thankfully as one Succouring the poore in such affliction This courteous Earle mou'd with her sad report VVhose eares were drawne to her inchanting tong Traind vp with her in Phillips royall Court And fully now confirmed in her wrong Her foes growe weake her friends grow daily strong The Barrons oath gag'd in her cause to stand The Commons word the Cleargies helping hand All Couenants signd with wedlocks sacred seale In friendships bonds eternally to bind And all proceeding from so perfect zeale And suting right with Henalts mighty mind VVhat ease hereby the Queene doth hope to find The sweet contentment of the louely bride Young Edward pleasd and ioy on euery side NOw full seauen times the Sunne his welked waine Had on the top of all the Tropick set And seauen times descending downe againe His fiery wheeles had with the fishes wet Since malice first this mischiefe did beget In which so many courses hath beene runne As he that time celestiall signes hath done From Henalt now this great Bellona comes Glyding along fayre Belgias glassie maine Mazing the shores with noyse of thundring drums VVith her young Edward Duke of Aquitayne The fatall scourges of King Edwards raigne Her Souldiour Beumount and the Earle of Kent And Mortimer that mightie Malcontent Three thousand Souldiers mustred men in pay Of Almaynes Swisers trustie Henawers Of natiue English fled beyond the Sea Of fat-braind Fleamings fishie Zelanders Edwards decreasing power augmenting hers Her friends at home expect her comming in And new commotions euery day begin The Coasts be daylie kept with watch and ward The Beacons burning at thy foes discrie O had the loue of Subiects beene thy guard T'ad beene t'effect what thou didst fortifie But t'is thy houshold home-bred Enemie Nor Fort nor Castell can thy Countrey keepe VVhen foes doe wake and dreamed friends doe sleepe In vaine be armes when heauen becomes a foe Kneele weepe intreat and speake thy Deaths-man fayre The earth is armd vnto thy ouerthrowe Goe pacifie the angrie powers by prayer Or if not pray goe Edward and dispayre Thy fatall end why doest thou this begin Locking Death out thou keep'st destruction in A Southwest gale for Harwich fitly blowes Blow not so fast to kindle such a fier VVhilst vnder saile shee yet securely rowes Turne gentle wind and
helpe the Land the while All prysons freed to make all mischiefes free Traytors and Rebels called from exile All things be lawfull but what lawfull bee Nothing our owne but our owne infamie Death which ends care yet carelesse of our death VVho steales our ioyes but stealeth not our breath London which didst thys mischiefe first begin Loe now I come thy tragedy to tell Thou art the first thats plagued for this sin VVhich first didst make the entrance to this hell Now death and horror in thy walls must dwell VVhich should'st haue care thy selfe in health to keepe Thus turn'st the vvolues amongst the carelesse sheepe O had I eyes another Thames to weepe Or words expressing more then words expresse O could my teares thy great foundation steepe To moane thy pride thy wastfull vaine excesse Thy gluttonie thy youthfull wantonnesse But t'is thy sinnes that to the heauens are fled Dissoluing clowdes of vengeance on thy head The place prophan'd where God should be adord The stone remou'd whereon our faith is grounded Aucthoritie is scornd counsell abhord Religion so by foolish sects confounded VVeake consciences by vaine questions wounded The honour due to Magistrates neglected VVhat else but vengeance can there be expected VVhen fayth but faynd a faith doth onely fayne And Church-mens liues giue Lay-men leaue to fall The Ephod made a cloake to couer gayne Cunning auoyding what's canonicall Yet holines the Badge to beare out all VVhen sacred things be made a merchandize None talke of texts then ceaseth prophicies VVhen as the lawes doe once peruert the lawes And weake opinion guides the common weale VVhere doubts should cease doubts rise in euery clawse The sword which wounds should be a salue to heale Oppression vvorks oppression to conceale Yet being vs'd when needfull is the vse Right clokes all wrongs and couers all abuse Tempestious thunders teare the fruitlesse earth The roring Ocean past her bounds to rise Death-telling apparisions monstrous birth Th'affrighted heauen with comet-glaring eyes The ground the ayre all fild with prodigies Fearefull eclipses fierie vision And angrie Planets in coniunction Thy channels serue for inke for paper stones And on the ground write murthers incests rapes And for thy pens a heape of dead-mens bones Thy letters vgly formes and monstrous shapes And when the earths great hollow concaue gapes Then sinke them downe least shee we liue vpon Doe leaue our vse and flye subiection Virgine but Virgine onely in thy name Now for thy sinne what murtherer shall be spent Blacke is my inke but blacker is thy shame VVho shall reuenge my Muse can but lament VVith hayre disheueld words and tears halfe spent Poore rauish'd Lucrece stands to end her lyfe VVhlist cruell Tarquin whets the angrie knyfe Thou wantst redresse and tyrannie remorce And sad suspition dyes thy fault in graine Compeld by force must be repeld by force Complaints no pardon penance helpes not payne But blood must vvash out a more bloody stayne To winne thine honour with thy losse of breath Thy guiltlesse lyfe with thy more guiltie death Thou art benumd thou canst not feele at all Plagues be thy pleasures feare hath made past feare The deadly sound of sinnes nile-thundering fall Hath tuned horror setled in thine eare Shreeks be the sweetest Musicke thou canst heare Armes thy attyer and weapons all thy good And all the wealth thou hast consist in blood See wofull Cittie on thy ruin'd wall The verie Image of thy selfe heere see Read on thy gates in charrecters thy fall In famish'd bodies thine Anatomie How like to them thou art they like to thee And if thy teares haue dim'd thy hatefull sight Thy buildings are one fier to giue thee light For world that was a wofull is complayne VVhen men might haue been buried when they dyed VVhen Children might haue in their cradels layne VVhen as a man might haue enioy'd his bride The Sonne kneeld by his Fathers death-bed side The lyuing wrongd the dead no right now haue The Father sees his Sonne to vvant a graue The poore Samarian almost staru'd for food Yet sawced her sweet Infants flesh with tears But thou in child vvith murther long'st for blood VVhich thy wombe wanting casts the fruite it bears Thy viperous brood their lothsome prison teyrs Thou drinkst thy gore out of a dead-mans scull Thy stomack hungry though thy gorge be full Is all the world in sencelesse slaughter dround No pittying hart no hand no eye no eare None holds his sword from ripping of the wound No sparke of pittie nature loue nor feare Be all so mad that no man can forbeare VVill you incur the cruell Neros blame Thus to discouer your owne Mothers shame The man who of the plague yet rauing lyes Heares yeelding gosts to giue their latest grone And from his carefull window nought espyes But dead-mens bodies others making moane No talke but Death and execution Poore silly women from their houses fled Crying ô helpe my husbands murthered Thames turne thee backe to Belgias frothie mayne Fayre Tame and Isis hold backe both your springs Nor on thy London spread thy siluer trayne Nor let thy Ships lay forth their silken wings Thy shores with Swans late dying Dirgies rings Nor in thy armes let her imbraced bee Nor smile on her which sadly weepes on thee Time end thy selfe here let it not be sayd That euer Death did first begin in thee Nor let this slaunder to thy fault be layd That ages charge thee with impietie Least feare what hath beene argue what may be And fashioning so a habite of the mind Make men no men and alter humaine kind But yet this outrage hath but taken breath For pittie past she meanes to make amends And more enrag'd she doth returne to death And next goes downe King Edward and his frends VVhat she hath hoarded now she franckly spends In such strange action as was neuer seene Clothing reuenge in habite of a Queene Now Stapleton's thy turne from France that fled The next the lot vnto the Spensers fell Reding the Marshall marshal'd with the dead Next is thy turne great Earle of Arundell Then Mochelden and wofull Daniell VVho followed him in his lasciuious wayes Must goe before him to his blackest dayes Carnaruan by his Countrie-men betrayd And sent a Prisoner from his natiue Land To Knelworth poore King he is conuayd To th'Earle of Leister with a mighty band And now a present Parliament in hand Fully concluding what they had begunne T'vncrowne King Edward and inuest his Sonne A scepter's lyke a pillar of great height VVhereon a mighty building doth depend VVhich when the same is ouer-prest with weight And past his compasse forc'd therby to bend His massie roofe down to the ground doth send Crushing the lesser props and murthering all VVhich stand within the compasse of his fall VVhere vice is countenanc'd with nobilitie Arte cleane excluded ignorance held in Blinding the world with mere hipocrisie Yet must be sooth'd in all their slauish sinne Great malcontents to growe they
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
liue Now stand they like the two starre-fixed Poles Betwixt the which the circling Spheres doe moue About whose Axeltree thys fayre Globe roules VVhich that great Moouer by his strength doth shoue Yet euery poynt still ending in theyr loue For might is euer absolute alone VVhen of two powers there's true coniunction The King must take what by theyr power they giue And they protect what serues for theyr protection They teach to rule whilst he doth learne to liue T' whom all be subiect liues in theyr subiection Though borne to rule yet crown'd by their election Th'alegiance which to Edward doth belong Doth make theyr faction absolutely strong Twelue guide the King his power theyr powers consist Peers guide the King they guide both King and Peers Ill can the Brooke his owne selfe-streame resist Theyr aged counsell to his younger yeeres Young Edward vowes and all the while he steers VVel might we think the man were more then blind VVhich wanted Sea roomth and could rule the wind In lending strength theyr strength they still retaine Building his force theyr owne they so repare Vnder his raigne in safety they doe raigne They giue a kingdome and doe keepe the care They who aduenture must the booty share A Princes wealth in spending still doth spred Like to a Poole with many fountaines fed They sit at ease though he sit in the throne He shaddowes them who his supporters be And in diuision they be two for one An Empyre now must thus berul'd by three VVhat they make free they challenge to be free The King enioyeth but what they lately gaue They priuiledg'd to spend leaue him to saue Nine-score braue Knights belonging to his Court At Notingham which all the Coast commaunds All parts pay trybute honor to his port Much may he doe which hath so many hands This rocke-built Castell ouer-looks the Lands Thus lyke a Gyant still towards heauen doth ryse And fayne would cast the Rocks against the skyes VVhere ere he goes there pompe in tryumph goes Ouer his head Fame soring still doth flye Th'earth in his presence decks her selfe in showes And glory sits in greatest Maiestie Aboundance there doth still in Child-bed lye For where Fortune her bountie will bestowe There heauen and earth must pay what she doth owe. In Notingham the Norths great glorious eye Crowne of the beautious branch-embellish'd soyle The throne emperiall of his Emperie His resting place releeuer of his â—oyle Here he enioyes his neuer-prized spoyle There lyuing in a world of all delight Beheld of all and hauing all in sight Here all along the flower-enameld vales Cleere Trent vpon the pearly sand doth slide And to the Meadowes telling wanton tales Her christall lims lasciuiously in pride VVith thousand turnes shee casts from side to side As loth shee were the sweet soyle to forsake And throw her selfe into the German lake VVhence great hart-harboring Sherwood wildly roues VVhose leauie Forrests garlanding her Towers Shadowing the small Brooks with her Ecchoing groues vvhose thick-plashd sides repulse the Northerne showers VVhere Nature sporting in her secret Bowers This strong built Castell hurketh in her shade As to this end she onely had beene made There must the glorious Parliament be held Earth must come in when awfull heauen doth send For whether Ioue his powerfull selfe doth weld Thether all powers them selues must wholly bend VVhose hand holds thunder who dare him offend And where proud conquest keepeth all in awe Kings oft are forc'd in seruile yokes to drawe Heere sit they both vnder the rich estate Yet neither striue the vpper hand to get In pompe and power both equall at a rate And as they came so are they friendly set He entreth first which first in entring met A King at least the Earle of March must be Or else the maker of a King is hee Perhaps he with a smyle the King will grace His knees growe stiffe they haue forgot to bow And if he once haue taken vp his place Edward must come if he his will would know A foote out of his seate he cannot goe Thys small word subiect pricks him like a sting My Empyres Colleage or my fellow King O had felicity feeling of woe Or could on meane but moderatly seede Or would looke downe the way that he must goe Or could abstaine from what diseases breede To stop the wound before to death he bleede VVarre should not fill Kings Pallaces with moane Nor perrill come when tis least thought vpon Ambition with the Eagle loues to build Nor on the Mountayne dreads the winters blast But with selfe-soothing doth the humor guild VVith arguments correcting what is past Fore-casting Kingdomes daungers vnforecast Leauing this poore word of content to such VVhose earthly spirits haue not his fierie â—uch But pleasures neuer dine but on excesse VVhose dyet made to drawe on all delight And ouercome in that sweet drunkennes His appetite maintayned by his sight Strengthneth desier but euer weakneth might Vntill this vlcer ripening to a head Vomits the poyson which it nourished Euen as a flood swelling beyond his bounds Doth ouer-presse the channell where he flowd And breaking forth the neighbour Meadows drowns That of him selfe him selfe doth quite vnload Dispearcing his owne greatnes all abroad Spending the store he was maintayned by Empties his Brooke and leaues his Channell dry Vpon this Subiect enuie might deuise Here might she prooue her mischeese-working wings An obiect for her euer-waking eyes VVherein to stick a thousand deadly stings A ground whereon to build as many things For where our actions measure no regard Our lawlesse will is made his owne reward Here vengeance calls destruction vp from hell Coniuring mischeese to deuise a curse Increasing that which more and more did swell Adding to ill to make this euill worse VVhilst hatefull pride becomes ambitions nurse T'is incedent to those whom many feare Many to them more greeuous hate doe beare And now those fewe which many tears had spent And long had wept on olde King Edwards graue Find some begin to pittie their lament VVishing the poore yet some redresse might haue Reuenge cannot denie what death doth craue Opening their cares what so abhord their eyes Ill will too soone regardeth enuies cryes Time calls account of what before is past All thrust on mallice pressing to be hard Vnto misfortune all men goe too fast Seldome aduantage is in wrongs debard Nor in reuenge a meane is neuer spard For when once pryde but poynteth towards his fall He bears a sword to wound him selfe with all Edward whose shoulders now were taught to peyze Briarius burthen which opprest him so His current stop'd with these outragious Seas VVhose gulfe receau'd the tyde should make him flowe This Rocke cast in the way where he must goe That honor brooks no fellowship hath tryde Nor neuer Crowne Corriuall could abyde Some vrge that March meaning by blood to rise First cut off Kent fearing he might succeed Trayning the King to what he did deuise
Proud Mars is bound within an yron-net Alcides burnt in Nessus poysned flame Great Ioue can shake the vniuersall frame He that was wont to call his sword to ayde Tis hard with him when he must stand to plead O hadst thou in thy glory thus beene slayne All thy delights had beene of easie rate But now thy fame yet neuer tuch'd with stayne Must thus be branded with thy haplesse fate No man is happie till his lyfes last date His pleasures must be of a dearer price Poore Adam driuen out of Paradice Halfe drownd in tears she followes him ô tears Elixar like turne all to pearle you weet To weepe with her the building scarce forbears Stones Metamorphizd tuch'd but with her feete And make the ayre for euerlasting sweet VVringing her hands with pittious shreeking cries Thus vtters shee her hard extreamities Edward quoth shee let not his blood beshed Each drop of it is more worth then thy Crowne VVhat Region is in Europe limitted VVhere doth not shine the Sunne of his renowne His sword hath set Kings vp thrown them downe Thou knowst that Empires neuer haue confind The large-spred bounds of his vnconquer'd mind And if thou feed'st vpon thy Fathers wrongs Make not reuenge to bring reuenge on thee VVhat torture thou inflict'st to me belongs And what is due to death is due to mee Imagine that his wounds fresh bleeding bee Forget thy birth thy crowne thy loue thy Mother And in this breast thy sword in vengeance smother O let my hands held vp appease this stryfe O let these knees at which thou oft hast stood Now kneele to thee to beg my lyues true lyfe This wombe that bare thee breast that gaue thee food Or let my blood yet purchase his deere blood O let my tears which neuer thing could force Constraynd by this yet moue thee to remorce But all in vaine still Edwards ghost appears And cryes reuenge reuenge vnto his Sonne And now the voyce of wofull Kent hee hears And bids him followe what he had begun Nor will they rest till execution done The very sight of him he deadly hated Sharpens the edge his Mothers tears rebated To London now a wofull prisoner led London where he had tryumph'd with the Queene He followeth now whom many followed And scarce a man who many men had beene Seeing with greefe who had in pompe been seene Those eyes which oft haue at his greatnes gazed Now at his fall must stand as all amazed Oh misery where once thou art possest How soone thy faynt infection alters kind And lyke a Cyrce turnest man to beast And with the body do'st transforme the mind That can in fetters our affections bind That he whose back once bare the Lyons skin VVhipt to his taske with Iole must spin Edward and March vnite your angry spirits Become new friends of auncient Enemies Hee was thy death and he thy death inherits How well you consort in your miseries And in true time tune your aduersities Fortune gaue him what shee to Edward gaue Not so much as thy end but he will haue At VVestminster a Parliament decreed Vnder pretence of safetie to the Crowne VVhere to his fatall end they now proceed All working hard to dig this Mountayne downe VVith his owne greatnes that is ouer-growne The King the Earle of Kent the Spensers fall Vpon his head with vengeance thundring all The death of Edward neuer is forgot The signe at Stanhope to the Enemies Ione of the Towers marriage to the Scot The Spensers coyne seaz'd to his treasuries Th'assuming of the wards and Lyueries These Articles they vrge which might him greeue VVhich for his creed he neuer did beleeue Oh dire reuenge when thou in time art rak'd From out the ashes which preserue thee long And lightly from thy cinders art awak'd Fuell to feed on and reuiu'd with wrong How sonne from sparks the greatest flames are sprong VVhich doth by Nature to his top aspire VVhose massie greatnes once kept downe his fier Debar'd from speech to aunswere in his case His iudgment publique and his sentence past The day of death set downe the time and place And thus the lot of all his fortune cast His hope so slowe his end draw on so fast VVith pen and ynke his drooping spirit to wake Now of the Queene his leaue he thus doth take MOst mighty Empresse daine thou to peruse These Swan-like Dirges of a dying man Not like those Sonnets of my youthfull Muse In that sweet season when our loue began VVhen at the Tylt thy princely gloue I wan VVhereas my thundring Courser forward set Made fire to flie from Herfords Burgonet Thys King which thus makes hast vnto my death Madam you know I lou'd him as mine owne And when I might haue grasped out his breath I set him easely in his Fathers throne And forc'd the rough stormes backe when they haue blowne But these forgot all the rest forgiuen Our thoughts must be continually on heauen And for the Crowne whereon so much he stands Came bastard VVilliam but himselfe on shore Or had he not our Fathers conquering hands VVhich in the field our houses Ensigne bore VVhich his proude Lyons for theyr safety wore VVhich rag'd at Hastings like that furious Lake From whose sterne waues our glorious name we take Oh had he charg'd me mounted on that horse VVhereon I march'd before the walls of Gaunt And with my Launce there shewd an English force Or vanquisht me a valiant combattant Then of his conquest had he cause to vaunt But he whose eyes durst not behold my shield Perceiu'd my Chamber fitter then the field I haue not serued Fortune like a slaue My minde hath suted with her mightines I haue not hid her tallent in a graue Nor burying of her bounty made it lesse My fault to God and heauen I must confesse He twise offends who sinne in flattery beares Yet euery howre he dyes which euer feares I cannot quake at that which others feare Fortune and I haue tugg'd together so VVhat Fate imposeth we perforce must beare And I am growne familiar with my vvoe Vsed so oft against the streame to row Yet my offence my conscience still doth grieue VVhich God I trust in mercy will forgiue I am shut vp in silence nor must speake Nor Kingdoms lease my life but I must die I cannot weepe and if my hart should breake Nor am I sencelesse of my misery My hart so full hath made mine eyes so dry I neede not cherrish griefes too fast they grow VVoe be to him that dies of his owne woe I pay my life and then the debt is payd VVith the reward th'offence is purg'd and gone The stormes will calme when once the spirit is layd Enuy doth cease wanting to feede vpon VVe haue one life and so our death is one Nor in the dust mine honor I inter Thus Caesar dyed and thus dies Mortimer Liue sacred Empresse and see happie dayes Be euer lou'd with me die all our