starre Stopping the wheele of Fortunes giddie carre O thus quoth he had gracelesse Edward done He had not now beene Subiect to his Sonne Then to Henry Plantagine he goes Two Kings at once two Crown'd at once doth find The roote from whence so many mischiefes rose The Fathers kindnes makes the Sonne vnkind Th'ambitious Brothers to debate inclind Thou crown'st thy Sonne yet liuing still do'st raigne Mine vncrownes me quoth he yet am I slaine Then of couragious Lyon-hart he reeds The Souldans terror and the Pagans wrack The Easterne world fild with his glorious deeds Of Ioppas siege of Cipres wofull sack Richard quoth hee turning his dull eyes back Thou did'st in height of thy felicitie I in the depth of all my miserie Then by degrees to sacriligious Iohn Murthering young Arthur hath vsurp'd his right The Cleargies curse the poors oppression The greeuous crosses that on him did light To Rooms proud yoke yeelding his awfull might Euen by thy end he sayth now Iohn I see Gods iudgements thus doe iustly fall on mee Then to long-raigning VVinchester his Sonne VVith whom his people bloody vvarre did wage And of the troubles in his time begunne The head-strong Barrons wrath the Commons rage And yet how he these tumults could aswage Thou liuest long quoth he longer thy name And I dye soone yet ouer-liue my fame Then to great Longshanks mighty victories VVho in the Orcads fix'd his Countries mears And dar'd in fight our fayths proud Enemies VVhich to his name eternall Trophies rears VVhose gracefull fauors yet faire England wears Bee't deadly sinne quoth he once to defile This Fathers name with me a Sonne so vile Following the leafe he findeth vnawars VVhat day young Edward Prince of VVales was borne VVhich Letters seeme lyke Magick Charrecters Or to dispight him they were made in scorne O let that name quoth he from Books be torne Least that in time the very greeued earth Doe curse my Mothers woombe and ban my birth Say that King Edward neuer had such child Or was deuour'd as hee in cradle lay Be all men from my place of birth exil'd Let it be sunck or swallowed with some sea Let course of yeeres deuoure that dismall day Let all be doone that power can bring to passe Onely be it forgot that ere I was The globy tears impearled in his eyes Through which as glasses hee is forc'd to looke Make letters seeme as circles which arise Forc'd by a stone within a standing Brooke And at one time so diuers formes they tooke VVhich like to vglie Monsters doe affright And with their shapes doe terrifie his sight Thus on his carefull Cabin falling downe Enter the Actors of his tragedy Opening the doores which made a hallow soune As they had howl'd against theyr crueltie Or of his paine as they would prophecie To whom as one which died before his death He yet complaynes whilst paine might lend him breath O be not Authors of so vile an act To bring my blood on your posteritie That Babes euen yet vnborne doe curse the fact I am a King though King of miserie I am your King though wanting Maiestie But he who is the cause of all this teene Is cruell March the Champion of the Queene He hath my Crowne he hath my Sonne my wyfe And in my throne tryumpheth in my fall Is't not inough but he will haue my lyfe But more I feare that yet this is not all I thinke my soule to iudgement he will call And in my death his rage yet shall not dye But persecute me so immortallie And for you deadly hate me let me liue For that aduantage angrie heauen hath left Fortune hath taken all that she did giue Yet that reuenge should not be quite bereft Shee leaues behind this remnant of her theft That miserie should find that onely I Am far more wretched then is miserie Betwixt two beds these deuils straight enclos'd him Thus done vncouering of his secrete part VVhen for his death they fitly had disposd him VVith burning yron thrust him to the hart O payne beyond all paine how much thou art VVhich words as words may verbally confesse But neuer pen precisely could expresse O let his tears euen freezing as they light By the impression of his monstrous payne Still keepe this odious spectacle in sight And shew the manner how the King was slaine That it with ages may be new againe That all may thether come that haue beene told it And in that mirror of his griefes behold it Still let the building sigh his bitter grones And with a hollow cry his woes repeate That sencelesse things euen mouing sencelesse stones VVith agonizing horror still may sweat And as consuming in their furious heate Like boyling Cauldrons be the drops that fall Euen as that blood for vengeance still did call O let the wofull Genius of the place Still haunt the pryson where his life was lost And with torne hayre and swolne ilfauored face Become the guide to his reuengefull ghost And night and day still let them walke the Coast And with incessant howling terrifie Or mooue with pitty all that trauell by TRue vertuous Lady now of mirth I sing To sharpen thy sweet spirit with some delight And somwhat slack this mellancholie string VVhilst I of loue and tryumphs must indite Too soone againe of passion must I write Of Englands wonder now I come to tell How Mortimer first rose when Edward fell Downe lesser lights the glorious Sunne doth clime His ioyfull rising is the worlds proude morne Now is he got betwixt the wings of Tyme And with the tyde of Fortune forwards borne Good starrs assist his greatnes to subborne VVho haue decreed his raigning for a while All laugh on him on whom the heauens doe smile The pompous sinode of these earthly Gods At Salsbury appointed by their King To set all euen which had been at ods And into fashion their dissignes to bring That peace might now froÌ„ their proceedings spring And to establish what they had begun Vnder whose cullour mighty things were done Heere Mortimer is Earle of March created Thys honor added to his Barronie And vnto fame heere is he consecrated That titles might his greatnes dignifie As for the rest he easely could supply VVho knew a kingdom to her lap was throwne VVhich hauing all would neuer starue her owne A pleasing calme hath smooth'd the troubled sea The prime brought on with gentle falling showers The misty breake yet proues a goodly day And on their heads since heauen her â—argesse powers That onely ours which we doe vse as ours Pleasures be poore and our delights be dead VVhen as a man doth not enioy the head Tyme wanting bounds still wanteth certainty Of dangers past in peace wee loue to heare Short is the date of all extreamity Long wished things a sweet delight doth beare Better forgoe our ioyes then still to feare Fortune her gifts in vaine to such doth gyue As when they liue seeme as they did not
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
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
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
He suddainly vnmaske his duskie face The King now with a strong selected crue Of such as he with his intent acquainted And well affected to thys action knew Nor in reuenge of Edward neuer fainted VVhose loyall fayth had neuer yet beene tainted This Labyrinth dertermins to assay To rouze the beast which kept him thus at bay The blushing Sunne plucks in his smyling beames Making his steeds to mend theyr wonted pace Till plunging downe into the Ocean streames There in the frothy waues he hides his face Then reynes them in more then his vsuall space And leaues foule darknes to possesse the skyes A time most fit for fouler tragedies VVith Torches now they enter on his Caue As night were day and day were turnd to night Damp'd with the soyle one to the other gaue Light hating darknes darknes hating light As enemies each with the other fight And each confounding other both appeare As darknes light and light but darknes were The craggy cleeues which crosse them as they goe Seeme as their passage they would haue denied And threatning them their iourney to for-slowe As angry with the path that was their guide Cursing the hand vvhich did them first deuide Theyr combrous falls and risings seem'd to say Thys wicked action could not brooke the day These gloomy Lamps by which they on were led Making theyr shaddowes follow at theyr back VVhich like to Mourners waite vpon the dead And as the deed so are they vgly black Like to the dreadfull Images of wrack These poore dym-burning lights as all amazed As those deformed shades whereon they gazed Theyr clattering Armes their Masters seeme to chyde As they would reason wherefore they should wound And striking with the poynts from side to side As they were angry with the hollow ground VVhose stony roofe lock'd in their dolefull found And hanging in the creeks draw backe againe As vvilling them from murther to refraine Novv after masks and gallant reuelings The Queene vnto the Chamber is with-drawne To vvhom a cleer-voyc'd Eunuch playes and sings And vnderneath a Canapy of Lawne Sparkling with pearle like to the cheerfull dawne Leaning vpon the breast of Mortimer VVhose voice more then the musick pleasd her eare A smock wrought with the purest Affrick silke A worke so fine as might all worke refine Her breast like strains of violets in milk O be thou hence-forth Beauties liuing shrine And teach things mortall to be most diuine Enclose Loue in thys Labyrinth about VVhere let him wander still yet ne're get out Her golden hayre ah gold thou art too base VVere it not sinne but once to name it hayre Falâ—ing as it would kisse her fairer face But no word fayre enough for thing so fayre Inuention is too bare to paynt her bare But where the pen fayles Pensill cannot show it Nor can be knowne vnlesse the minde doe knowe it Shee layes those fingers on his manly cheeke The Gods pure scepters and the darts of loue VVhich with one tuch might make a Tyger meeke Or might an Atlas easely remoue That lilly hand rich Natures wedding gloue VVhich might beget life where was neuer none And put a spirit into the hardest stone The fire of precious wood the lights perfume VVhose perfect cleernes on the painting shone As euery thing with sweetnes would consume And euery thing had sweetnes of his owne The smell where-with they liu'd alwaies growne That light gaue cullour on each thing it fell And to that cullour the perfume gaue smell Vpon the sundry pictures they deuise And from one thing they to an other runne Now they commend that body then those eyes How well that byrd how well that flower was done The liuely counterfetting of that sunne The cullors the conceits the shadowings And in that Arte a thousand sundrie things Looking vpon proud Phaeton wrapd in fier The gentle Queene doth much bewaile his fall But Mortimer more praysing his desier To loose his lyfe or else to gouerne all And though quoth he he now be Fortunes thrall This must be sayd of him when all is done Hee perrish'd in the Chariot of the Sunne Glaunsing vpon Ixion shee doth smile VVho for his Iuno tooke the cloud amisse Madam quoth hee thus women can beguile And oft we find in loue this error is VVhy friend quoth shee thy hap is lyke to his That booteth not quoth he were he as I Ioue would haue beene in monstrous iealousie Shee sayth Phoebus is too much forc'd by Art Nor can shee find how his imbraces bee But Mortimer now takes the Paynters part Tis euen thus great Empresse so quoth hee Thus twyne their armes and thus their lips you see You Phoebus are poore Hiacinthus I Kisse mee till I reuiue and now I die By this into the vttermost stately hall Is rudely entred this disordred rout And they within suspecting least of all Prouide no guard to watch on them without Thus danger falls oft-times when least we doubt In perrill thus we thinke our selues most sure And oft in death fond men are most secure His trustie Neuill and young Turrington Courting the Ladies frolick voyd of feare Staying delights whilst time away doth runne VVhat rare Emprezas hee and he did beare Thus in the Lobby whilst they sporting weare Assayld on sudaine by this hellish trayne Both in the entrance miserably slayne Euen as from snow-topd Skidos frostie cleeues Some Norway Haggard to her pitch doth tower And downe amongst the moore-bred Mallard driues And through the aire right down the wind doth scower Commaunding all that lye within her power Euen such a skreame is hard within the vault Made by the Ladies at the first assault March hath no armes but the Queene in his armes To fayre a sheeld to beare their fouler blowes Enchayning his strong armes in her sweet armes Inclosing them which oft did her inclose O had he had but weapons lyke his woes Her presence had redoubled then his might To lyue and dye both in his soueraigns sight Villians quoth hee I doe protect the King VVhy Centaure-lyke doe you disturbe me this And interrupt the Gods at banquetting VVhere sacred Himen euer present is And pleasures are imparadizd in blis VVhere all they powers their earthly heauen would take If heere on earth they their abode should make Her presence pardons the offenders ill And makes the basest earthly thing diuine Ther's no decree can countermaund her will Shee like the Sunne doth blesse where she doth shine Her Chamber is the most vnspotted shrine How sacriligiously dare you despise And thus prophane these halowed liberties But Edward if this enterprize be thine And thou an Actor heere do'st play thy part I tell thee then base King thy Crowne was mine And thou a King but of my making art And now poore worme since thou hast taken hart Thou would'st hew downe that pillar vnto wrack VVhich hath sustaynd Olimpus on his back VVhat can he doe that is so hard beset The heauen-threatning Gyants heauen could tame