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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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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
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