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
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
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
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
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
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
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