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
force her to retyer But ô the winds doe Edwards wrack conspyre For when the heauens are vnto iustice bent All things be turnd to our iust punishment Shee is arriu'd in Orwells pleasant Roade Orwell thy name or ill or neuer was VVhy art thou not ore-burthend with thy loade VVhy sinck'st thou not vnder thys monstrous masse But what heauen will that needs must come to passe That grieuous plague thou carriest on thy deepe Shall giue iust cause for many streames to weepe Englands Earle-marshall Lord of all that Coast VVith bells and bonfires welcoms her to shore Great Leicester next ioyneth hoast to hoast The Cleargies power in readines before VVhich euery day increaseth more and more Vpon the Church a great taxation layd For Armes munition mony men and ayd Such as too long had looked for this hower And in their brests imprisoned discontent Their wills thus made too powerful by their power VVhose spirits were factious great and turbulent Their hopes succesfull by this ill euent Like to a thiefe that for his purpose lyes Take knowledge now of Edwards iniuries Young Prince of VVales loe heere thy vertue lyes Soften thy Mothers flintie hart with teares Then wooe thy Father with those blessed eyes VVherein the image of himselfe appeares VVith thy soft hand softly vniting theirs VVith thy sweet kisses so them both beguile Vntill they smyling weepe and weeping smile Bid her behold that curled silken Downe Thy fayre smooth brow in beauties fayrer pryme Not to be prest with a care-bringing Crowne Nor that with sorrowes wrinckled ere the time Thy feete too feeble to his seate to clime VVho gaue thee life a crowne for thee did make Taking that Crowne thou life from him doost take Looke on these Babes the seales of plighted troth VVhose little armes about your bodies cling These pretty imps so deere vnto you both Beg on their knees their little hands do wring Queenes to a Queene Kings kneele vnto a King To see theyr comfort and the crowne defac'd You fall to Armes which haue in armes embrac'd Subiects see these and then looke backe on these VVhere hatefull rage with kindly nature striues And iudge by Edward of your owne disease Chyldren by chyldren by his wife your wiues Your state by his in his life your owne liues And yeeld your swords to take your deaths as due Then draw your swords to spoyle both him and you From Edmondsbury now comes thys Lyonesse Vnder the Banner of young Aquitaine And downe towards Oxford doth herselfe adresse A world of vengeance vvayting on her traine Heere is the period of Carnaruans raigne Edward thou hast but King thou canst not beare Ther's now no King but great King Mortimer Now friendles Edward followed by his foes Needes must he runne the deuill hath in chase Poore in his hopes but wealthy in his woes Plenty of plagues but scarcitie of grace VVho wearied all now wearieth euery place No home at home no comfort seene abroad His minde small rest his body small aboad One scarce to him his sad discourse hath done Of Henalts power and what the Queene intends But whilst he speakes another hath begun Another straight beginning where he ends Some of new foes some of reuolting frends These ended once againe new rumors spred Of many which rebell of many fled Thus of the remnant of his hopes bereft Shee hath the sum and hee the silly rest Towards VVales he flyes of England being left To rayse an Armie there himselfe adrest But of his power shee fully is possest Shee hath the East her rising there-withall And he the VVest I there goes downe his fall VVhat plagues doth Edward for himselfe prepare Alas poore Edward whether doost thou flie Men change the ayre but seldome change their care Men flie from foes but not from miserie Griefes be long-liu'd and sorrowes seldome die And whē thou feel'st thy conscience tuch'd with griefe Thy selfe pursues thy selfe both rob'd and thiefe Towards Lundy which in Sabryns mouth doth stand Carried with hope still hoping to finde ease Imagining thys were his natiue Land Thys England and Seuerne the narrow seas VVith this conceit poore soule himselfe doth please And sith his rule is ouer-rul'd by men On byrds and beasts he'll king it once agen Tis treble death a freezing death to feele For him on whom the sunne hath euer shone VVho hath been kneel'd vnto can hardly kneele Nor hardly beg which once hath been his owne A fearefull thing to tumble from a throne Fayne would he be king of a little Ile All were his Empyre bounded in a myle Aboard a Barke now towards the Ile he sayles Thinking to find some mercy in the flood But see the weather with such power preuailes Not suffring him to rule thys peece of vvood VVho can attaine by heauen and earth with-stood Edward thy hopes but vainly doe delude By Gods and men vncessantly pursu'd At length to land his carefull Barke he hales Beaten with stormes ballast with misery Thys home-bred exile on the Coast of VVales Vnlike himselfe with such as like him bee Spenser Reading Baldock these haplesse three They to him subiect he subiect to care And he and they to murther subiect are To ancient Neyth a Castell strongly built Thether repayre thys forlorne banish'd crew VVhich holdeth them but not contaynes theyr guilt There hid from eyes but not from enuies view Nor from theyr starrs themselues they yet with-drew VValls may awhile keepe out an enemie But neuer Castle kept out destenie Heere Fortune hath immur'd them in this hold VVilling theyr poore imprisoned liberty Liuing a death in hunger want and cold VVhilst murtherous treason entreth secretly All lay on hands to punish cruelty And when euen might is vp vnto the chin VVeake frends become strong foes to thrust him in MElpomine thou dolefull Muse be gone Thy sad complaints be matters farre too light Heere now come plagues beyond comparison You dreadfull Furies visions of the night VVith gastly howling all approch my sight And let pale ghosts with sable Tapers stand To lend sad light to my more sadder hand Each line shall be a history of woe And euery accent as a dead mans cry Now must my teares in such aboundance flow As doe the drops of fruitfull Castaly Each letter must containe a tragedy Loe now I come to tell this wofull rest The drerest tale that euer pen exprest You sencelesse stones as all prodigious Or things which of like solid substance be Sith thus in nature all grow monsterous And vnto kinde contrary disagree Consume or burne or weepe or sigh with mee Vnlesse the earth hard-harted nor can moane Makes steele and stones more hard then steele and stone All-guiding heauen which so doost still maintaine VVhat ere thou moou'st in perfect vnitie And bynd'st all things in friendshyps sacred chayne In spotles and perpetuall amitie VVhich is the bounds of thy great Emperie VVhy sufferest thou the sacriligious rage Of thys rebellious hatefull yron age Now ruine raignes God
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