THE BATTAILE OF AGINCOVRT FOVGHT BY HENRY THE FIFT of that name King of England against the whole power of the French vnder the Raigne of their CHARLES the sixt Anno Dom. 1415. The Miseries of Queene MARGARITE the infortunate Wife of that most infortunate King HENRY the sixt NIMPHIDIA the Court of Fayrie The Quest of CINTHIA The Shepheards SIRENA The Moone-Calfe Elegies vpon sundry occasions By MICHAELL DRAYTON Esquire LONDON Printed by A. M. for WILLIAM LEE and are to be sold at the Turkes Head in Fleete-Streete next to the Miter and Phaenix 1631. TO you those Noblest of Gentlemen of these Renowned Kingdomes of Great Britaine who in these declining times haue yet in your braue bosomes the sparkes of that sprightly fire of your couragious Ancestors and to this houre retaine the seedes of their magnanimitie and Greatnesse who out of the vertue of your mindes loue and cherish neglected Poesie the delight of Blessed soules And the language of Angels To you are these my Poems dedicated By your truely affectioned Seruant MICHAELL DRAYTON THE VISION OF BEN. IOHNSON ON THE MVSES OF HIS FRIEND M. DRAITON IT hath beene question'd MICHAEL if I be A Friend at all or if at all to thee Because who make the question haue not seene Those ambling visits passe in verse betweene Thy Muse and mine as they expect 'T is true You haue not writ to me nor I to you And though I now begin 't is not to rub Hanch against Hanch or raise a riming Club About the towne this reck'ning I will pay Without conferring symboles This 's my day It was no Dreame I was awake and saw Lend me thy voice O FAME that I may draw Wonder to truth and haue my vision hoâ—rld Hot from thy trumpet round about the world I saw a Beauty from the Sea to rise That al Earth look'd on that earth all Eyes It cast a beame as when the chear-full Sun Is fayre got vp and day some houres begun And fill'd an Orbe as circular as heauen The Orbe was cut foorth into Regions seaâ—â—â— And those so sweet well proportion'd parts As it had bin the circle of the Arts When by thy bright Ideas standing by I found it pure and perfect Poesy Ther read I streight thy learned Legends three Heard the soft airs between our swains thee Which made me thinke the old Theocritus Our Rurall Virgil come to pipe to vs But then thy epistolar Heroick Songs Their loues their quarrels iealousies wrongs Did all so strike me as I cry'd who can With vs be call'd the Naso but this man And looking vp I saw Mineruaes fowle Pearch'd ouer head the wise Athenian Owle I thought thee theÌ„ our Orpheus that wouldst try Like him to make the ayre one volary And I had stil'd thee Orpheus but before My lips could forme the voyce I heard that rore And rouze the marching of a mighty force Drums against drums theneighing of the horse The fights the cryes wondring at the iarres I saw and read it was thy Barons Warres O how in those dost thou instruct these times That Rebels actions are but valiant crimes And caried though with shout noise coÌ„fesse A wild and an authoriz'd wickednesse Sayst thou so Lucan But thou seornst to stay Vnder one title Thou hast made thy way And flight about the I le well neare by this In thy admired Periegesis Or vniuersall circumduction Of all that reade thy Poly-Olbyon That reade it that are rauish'd such was I With euery song I sweare and so would dye But that I heare againe thy Drum to beate A better cause and strike the brauest heate That euer yet did fire the English blood Our right in France if rightly vnderstood There thou art Homer Pray thee vse the stile Thou hast deseru'd And let me read the while Thy Catalogue of Ships exceeding his Thy list of aydes and force for so it is The Poets act and for his Country's sake Braue are the Musters that the Muse wil make And whe he ships theÌ„ where to vse their Arms How do his truÌ„pets breath What loud alarms Looke how we read the Spartans were inflamd With bold Tyrtaeus verse when thou art nam'd So shall our English Youth vrge on and cry An Agin-court an Agin-court or dye This booke it is a Catechisme to fight And will be bought of euery â—ord and Knight That can but read who cannot may in prose Get broken pieces and fight well by those The miseries of Margaret the Queene Of tender eyes will more be wept then seene I feele it by mine owne that ouerflow And stop my sight in euery line I goe But then refreshed by thy Fayrie Court I looke on Cynthia and Syrenas sport As on two flowry Carpets that did rise And with their grassy green restor'd mine eyes Yet giue mee leaue to wonder at the birth Of thy strange Moon-Calfe both thy straine of mirth And Gossip-got acquaintaÌ„ce as to vs Thou hadst brought Lapland or old Cobalus Empusa Lamia or some Monster more Then Affricke knew or the full Grecian store I gratulate it to thee and thy Ends To all thy vertuous and well chosen Friends Onely my losse is that I am not there And till I worthy am to wish I were I call the world that enuies me to see If I can be a Friend and Friend to thee VPON THE BATTAILE OF AGINCOVRT VVRITTEN BY HIS DEARE FRIEND MICHAEL DRAYTON Esquire HAd Henryes name beene only met in Prose Recorded by the humble wit of those Who write of lesse then Kings who Victory As calmely mention as a Pedigree The French alike with vs might view his name His actions too and not confesse a shame Nay grow at length so boldly troublesome As to dispute if they were ouercome But thou hast wakt their feares thy fiercer hand Hath made their shame as lasting as their land By thee againe they are compeld to know How much of Fate is in an English foe They bleed afresh by thee and thinke the harme Such they could rather wish t' were Henries arme Who thankes thy painefull quill and holds it more To be thy Subiect now then King before By thee he conquers yet when eu'ry wora Yeelds him a fuller honour then his sword Strengthens his actions against time by thee He Victory and France doth hold in fee So well obseru'd he is that eu'ry thing Speakes him not only English but a King And France in this may boast her fortunate That she was worthy of so braue a hate Her suffering is her gayue How well we see The Battaile labour'd worthy him and thee Where we may Death discouer with delight And entertaine a pleasure from a fight Where wee may see how well it doth become The brau'ry of a Prince to ouer come What Povver is a Poet that can add A life to Kings more glorious then they had For what of Henry is vnsung by thee Henry doth want of his Eternity I. Vaughan TO MY VVORTHY FRIEND
old man lean'd himselfe to stay At a Starre poynting which of great renowne Was skilfull Mâ—â—lin namer of that towne Glamorgan men a Castell great and hie From which out of the battlement aboue A flame shot vp it selfe into the skie The men of Munmouth for the ancient loue To that deare Country neighboring them so nie Next after them in Equipage that moue Three Crownes Imperiall which supported were With three Arm'd Armes in their proud Ensigne beare The men of Brecknock brought a Warlik Tent Vpon whose top there sate a watchfull Cocke Radnor a mountaine of an high ascent Thereon a shepheard keeping of his Flocke As Cardigan the next to them that went Came with a Meremayd sitting on a Rocke And Merioneth beares as these had done Three dancing goates against the rising Sunne Those of Montgomery beare a prancing Steeâ— Denbeioâ—â— a Neptune with his three-fork'd Mace Flintshire m a Workemayd in her Summer weeâ— with Sheafe and Sickle with a warlike pace Those of Caernaruon not the least in speed Though marching last in the maine Armies face Three golden Eagles in their Ensigne brought Vnder which oft braue Owen Guyneth fought The Seas amazed at that fearefull sight Of Armes and Ensignes that abroad were brought Of Streamers Banners Pennons Ensignes pight Vpon each Pub and Prowe and at the fraught So full of terror that it hardly might Into a naturall course againe be brought As the Vaste Nauie which at Anchor rides Proudly presumes to shoulder out the Tides The Fleete then full and floating on the maine The numerous Masts with their braue topsails sâ— When as the wind a little doth them straine Seeme like a Forrest bearing her proud head Against some rough flaw that foreruns a raine So doe they looke from euery lofty sted Which with the surges tumbled to and fro Seeme euen to bend as trees are seene to doe From euery Ship when as the Ordnance rorâ— Of their depart that all might vnderstand When as the zealous people from the shore Againe with fires salute them from the Land â—or so was order left with them before â—o watch the Beacons with a carefull hand Which being once fierd the people more or lesse Should all to Church to pray for their successe They shape their course into the Mouth of Seyne â—hat destin'd Flood those Nauies to receiue â—efore whos 's fraught her France had prostrate laine â—s now shee must this that shall neuer leaue â—ntill the Ensignes that it doth containe â—to the ayre her heightned walls shall heaue Whose stubborne Turrets had refus'd to bow To that braue Nation that shall shake them now Long Boats with Scouts are put to land before â—pon light Naggs the countrey to disery Whilst the braue Army setting is on shore â— vievv what strength the enemy had nie â—essing the bosome of large France so sore â—at her pale Genius in affright doth flye To all her Townes and warnes them to awake And for her safety vp their Armes to take At Paris Roane and Orleance she calls â—d at their gates with groanings doth complaine â—en cries she out O get vp to your walles â—e English Armies are return'd againe â—hich in two Battailes gaue those fatall falls Cressy and at Poyteers where lay slaine Our conquered Fathers which with very feare Quake in their graues to feele them landed here The King of France now hauing vndâ—rstood Of Henryes entrance but too wel unprou'd He cleerely saw that deere must be the blood That it must costâ—e'â— he could be remou'd He sends to make his other sâ—a Townes good Neuer before so much it him behou'd In euery one a Garison to lay Fearing fresh powers from England eu'ry day To the high'st earth whilst awfull Henry gets From whence strong Harflew he might easiest see With sprightly words thus their courage wheâ— In yonder walls be Mines of gold quoth hee Heâ—'s a poore slaue that thinkes of any debts Haâ—flew shâ—ll pâ—y for all it ours shall bee This ayre of France doth like me wonderous weâ— Le ts burne our ships for here we meane to dwâ— But through his Hâ—ast he first of all proclaiâ— In paine of death no English man should take From the Religionâ— aged or the maym'd Or women that could no resistance make To gaine his owne for that he only aym'd Noâ— would haue such to suffer for his sake Which in the French when they the same did heâ— Bred of this braue King a religions feare His armâ— rang'd in order fitting war Each with some greene thing doth his Murrian croâ— With his mayne standard fixt vpon the Carre Comes the great King before th'intrenched toâ— Whilst from the walles the people gazing are â— all their sights he sets an army downe Not for their shot he careth not a pin But seekes where he his battery may begin And into three his Army doth diuide â—is strong approaches on three parts to make â—imselfe on th' one Clarence on th' other side â—o Yorke and Suffolke he the third doth take â—he Mines the Duke of Glocester doth guide â—hen caus'd his Ships the riuer vp to Stake That none with victual should the Town relieue Should the sword faile with famin them to grieue From his pauillion where he sate in State â—rm'd for the siedge and buckling on his Shield â—raue Henry sends his Herauld to the Gate â—y trumpets sound to summon them to yeeld â—nd to accept his mercy e'r too late â—r else to say ere he forsooke the field Harflew should be but a meere heape of Stones Her buildings buried with her owners bones France on this suddaine put into a fright â—ith the sad newes of Harflew in distresse â—hose inexpected miserable plight â—ee on the suddaine knew not to redresse â—t vrg'd to doe the vtmost that she might â—e peoples feares and clamours to suppresse Raiseth a power with all the speed she could â—om what thereby to loose King Henryes hold The Marshall and the Constable of France Leading those Forces levâ—ed for the turne By which they thought their Titles to aduance And of their Countrey endlesse praise to earne But it with them farre otherwise doth chance For when they saw the villages to burne And high-towr'd Harflew round ingiâ—t with fire They with their power to Cawdebeck retire Like as a Hinde when she her Calfe doeth see Lighted by chance into a Lyons pawes From which should shee aduenture it to free Shee must her selfe fill his deuouring Iawes And yet her young one still his prey must bee Shee so instructed is by Natures Lawes With them so fares it which must needs go dowâ— If they would fighâ— and yet must loose the Towâ— Now doe they mount their Ordnance for the daâ— Their scaling Ladders rearing to the walls Their battering Rams against the gates they lay Their brazen slings send in the wild-fire balls Baskets of twigs now carry stones and
'e throw at all that any one dares set THe Queen who saw which way the factioÌ„ we And that these wrongs must stil reflect on he The Duke of Yorke to her destruction bent Thought with her selfe it was full time to stirre And if his plots she euer would preuent Must with the wisest of her friends conferre Their busie braynes and must together beate To lessen him like else to grow too great His pride a while yet patiently endure The Kings recouery only to attend Of which themselues they hardly could assure Who once they thought had hastned to his end But when they found his Physicke to procure His former health then doth the Queene extend Her vtmost strength to let the world to know Queene Margarite yet must not be mastred so With smiles and kisses when she woes the King That of his place the Duke he would discharge Which being done the next especiall thing She doth the Duke of Summerset inlarge And him of Callice giues the gouerning Whither his friends she caus'd him to imbaâ—dge Doubting the loue and safeguard of the Towne Thus doth the Queen turne al things vpside dowâ— Which so incenst the angry Duke to ire With those two Earles vpon his part that take Kindling in all that fierce reuenge full fire Which the deare blood of Summerset must slake 〈…〉 at into Wales they instantly retire 〈…〉 nd in the Marches vp an Army make And there by Oath were to each other tyde By dint of sword the quarrell to decide And whilst these Lords be busied in the West Of March-men mustring a rebelling Band â—enry againe his Southerne people prest â—nd settles there their forces to withstand Then Bowes and Bills were only in request â—uch rage and madnesse doth possesse the Land Set vpon spoyle on either part they were Whilst the Weale publique they in pieces teare On either part when for this Warre prepard â—pon their March they at Saint Albans met Where drums and Ensignes one the other dar'd Whilst they in order their Battalions set â—nd with his fellow euery souldier shar'd Brauely resolu'd to death to pay his debts When if that euer horrour did appeare On th' English earth it certainely was there That day the Queenes-lou'd Sommerset was slaine There tooke the stout Northumberland his end There Staffords bloud the pauement did distaine There Clifford fell King Henryes constant friend The Earle of Warwicke who brought on the Mayne All downe before him to pale Death doth send Antwessell Bapthorpt Zouch and Curwen all King Henryes friends before the Yorkists fall Whilst this distressed miserable King Amazed with such fury of the fight And perill still his person menacing His liuing friends inforc't to take their flight He as a needlesse and neglected thing In a poore Cottage hides him out of sight Who found by Yorke was as a prisoner led Though with milde words the Duke him coforted And of his person being thus possest They in his name a Parliament procure For with his Regall power they will inuest Themselues supposing to make all things sure That if their violent actions should be prest In after time they better might endure The censuring the worst and so preuent To show them done by Act of Parliament And cause the King to take into his hands What to the Crowne did anciently pertaine Besides all Honors Offices and Lands Granted since the beginning of his Raigne And not a Fee though â—e'r so little stands And are call'd in and let who will complaine And all his friends from counsaile are remou'd None must sit there but those of them belou'd The silly King a sipher set aside What was in him that in great Yorke was not Amongst themselues all places they diuide And to be Chancellor Salsbury hath got Hee is the man must take the Law to guide And Callice falls to warlike Warwickes lot And not a man at these must looke awry They make an Act their acts to iustifie This done the Duke had more to doe then this Something it seem'd more secretly to lurke In which such power though from appearance is As yet once more would fret the Duke of Yorke And let him know he of his ends might misse For now the Queene doth set her wits to worke To play the Game that must renowne her skill And shew the Law that rested in her will And from the roote of Summerset late slaine Another stem to stand for her arose Henry for Edmond of his Fathers straine One of whose life she knew she could dispose Of a strong iudgement and a working braine Great Buckingham and Excester are those She meanes to worke by and by these restore Her to that height from whence she fell before These were the men to whom shee trusted most To whom that faction much despight had done For at Saint Albans Summerset had lost His loued Sire and Buckingham his Sonne And Excester pursude from Coast to Coast From them enforc'd to Sanct'ary to runne Fetcht thence by them and to cold Pumfret sent And in a dungeon miserably pent Equall in enuie as in pride and power With eu'ry ayde to their disignement fraught Taking their turnes at eu'ry fitting houre They on the Kings much easinesse so wrought As that they seem'd him wholly to deuoure Vntill to passe their purposes they brought Lifting vp still his spirit that was so poore Once more to doe as he had done before For which at Greenewich he a Councell held Where with th' opinion of those friends supplide Those three which late with glorious titles sweld Are from their seu'rall places put aside Yet more to seeke their safety are compeld At this prodigious turning of the tide For now the wind was strangely come about And brings them in who lately were shut out The cruell Queene and cunningly had cast At Couentry to cause them to appeare With shew to pardon all that had beene past If they but then would their Allegiance sweare Which had they done that day had beene their last For she had plotted to destroy them there Of which forewarnd immediatly they fled Which then their safety only promised Yet whilst one wrong thus from another rose Twixt them at last a meeting was ordain'd All former strife and quarrels to compose Which but too long betwixt them had remain'd Which to the world though handsomely it showes Yet in plaine truth all was but meerely fain'd To outward seeming yet are perfect friends But diuelish folke haue still their diuelish ends And in procession solemnly they goe In generall ioy one smiling on the other A Yorkist and Lancastrian make vp two Enuie and mallice brother like to brother â—n mind farre sundred although coupled so Bloody reuenge and in their brests they smother Ill 's the procession and fore runs much losse Wherein men say the Deuill beares the Crosse These Rites of peace religiously perform'd To all mens thinking the enraged Queene
against the French Anthony Duke of Brabant sonne to the Duke of Burgundy The valiant Duke of Brabant slaine Many of the French in â—hotr flight get â—â—to an old Fort. The Kings slight answere Woodhouâ—â—â—eereth at the attempt Braues passe between Gam and Woodhouse Caâ—tainâ— Gam â—â—aiâ—e For this seruice done by Woodhouse there was an addition of honour giuen him which was a hand holdingâ— club with the word Frappe Fort which is borne by the Family of the Woodhouse of Norfolke to tâ—â—â— day A deuisâ—â—â— Burbons to giue incouragement to the French A Simily of the French Lewis of Burbon taken prisonâ— by a meane souldiour Lewis of Burbon stâ—bd by a Souldier that tooke him prisoner The Lords Dampier an â— Sauesses tataken prisoners Arthur Earle of Richmount taken prisoner The Count du Marle slaine The misery of the French The French forced to beare the wounded English on their backs A 〈…〉 of rasâ—al French 〈…〉 the King Englands 〈…〉 The 〈…〉 The English kill 〈…〉 pâ—â—soners Ex 〈…〉 ion The French â—ause of their owne massaâ—hre A discriptiâ—n of the Massacre in the foure following Stanzaes The family of Yorke soughâ— under hand to promoue their title about that time After the second conqueâ—â— of France by Henry the â—ift The Christian Princes seeke to 〈…〉 a peace between 〈…〉 and France A 〈…〉 18 moneths Pooâ—e in this time of â—eacâ—â—â—â—ourâ—th â—â—â—oncludâ— a Marâ—â—age beâ—â—ixt thâ— Lady Margarire and the King his Master Poole taken with the exâ—â—â—ding 〈…〉 â—y of the Princesse He had only the title of these Kingdomes without any lâ—â—â—lyhooâ— Margarite Duk Reyners Daughter A 〈…〉 of a 〈…〉 Amba 〈…〉 our with â—â—e â—â—â—â— of 〈…〉 onely daughter The high praises of the Princesse Margarites beauty Pooleâ— followers placed about the King to work â—â— owne ends The prouinces of France giuen to Duke Reyner for 〈…〉 Daughter Poole created first from an Earle Marque 〈…〉 and afteâ— Duke of Suffolke The people exceedingly râ—pinâ— for the giuing aâ—ay of the Prouinces A Simily Sâ—ffolke Procurator for the King The marriage solemâ—â—zedâ—â—â— the city of Towers The great concourse to honour the Solâ—â—nization Margaret in French signifâ—â—th a Daysâ—e The Queene brauely enteâ—tained in passing through Normandy The King stayeth for the 〈…〉 at Portâ—mouth Great and fearefull Tempests at the comming in of the Queâ—ne The Duke of Yor 〈…〉 discharged of hiâ— Regency in France and the Duke of Sommerset in hâ—â— place A Charractâ—â— of the Duke of Glocester The greatest persons of the Queenes Faâ—â—â—â—â— A Parliamentat Saint Edmunds-Bury The Duke of Gloster aresâ—ed by the high Marshall of England The Duke murthered The pâ—â—pâ—â— mutiny The death oâ— the Duk was the vtter 〈…〉 row of the house of Lâ—â—caster The affaires of England fall tâ— ruinâ—â—pon the death of the Duke The Irish rebell The French â—re vp in A 〈…〉 s. The Norman râ—uolt Townâ—â— in Normandy yâ—elded to th 〈…〉 enemy There had been a formâ— contract betwene the King and th 〈…〉 Earle of Arminacks only Daughter but being by the Duke o 〈…〉 Suffolke annulled cause 〈…〉 â—he Earle â—â—â— after to be â— vowed ene 〈…〉 â—â— the Englis 〈…〉 The commons chargâ—â—he Duke of Sommerset with thâ— lossâ— of Normand Articles of Treason put into the Parliament against the Dukes oâ— Sommerset â—nd Suffolke The Duke of Sufâ—olkeâ—anâ—â—â—ea for sine yâ—â—res The extreame hate the people had to the Duke This ship was as our hystories report called the Nicholas oâ— thâ— tower a ship that belongd to the Duke of Excestâ—r of whom â—nâ— Water was the Captaine The subâ—â—ll policie of the Duke of Yorke The character of Iacke Cads Deriuing his title from Phillip the onely Daughter and heire of Lyonel Duke of Clarence the third sonne of Ed the 3 wedded to Edmund Mortimur Earle of March The Staffordâ— slaine by thâ— Rebels Iacke Cade takes London * The Vulgar The Valiant Talbot slaine Richard Neuill the Father and Richard Neuill the sonne The Duke of Sommerset arested The King reâ—â—uired of a dangerous sicknesse The Queene preuailing against the Duke of York The Duke of Yorke 〈…〉 seth an army in the Marches of Wales The first Battaile at Saâ—â—â— Albans Humfrey Earle of Stafford eldest sonne to the Duke of Buckingham The King crept into a poore Cottage The lawlesse â—surpation of the Yorkâ—stâ— Salsbury made Ch 〈…〉 Warwicke Captaiue of Caâ—â—â—ce Henry Beufoâ—â— Duke of Summerset after the decease of his father Edmond The Duke of Excester taken out of the Sanctuary aâ— Westminster The Duke of Yorke the Earles of Salsbury and Warwicke put out of office The Queene had plotted to haue the Duke murthered at Couentry A solemne procession in Pauls by both the factionâ— The Queene inwardly gâ—uching at Warwickes greatnesse Warwick in perill to hauâ— bin slaine passing thâ— street The men of Cheshire â—panâ—â—n the quarreâ—â— The 〈…〉 A great 〈…〉 The Lord A 〈…〉 Eâ—â—â—rd Earl of March eldest sonne to â—â—â— Duke tâ—â— Ea 〈…〉 and Warwicke A Simily A Parliâ—â—ent at 〈…〉 The men of Kent rise with the Torkists The name of Warwicke fearefull to hu enemies A great paâ—â— of the Nobility slaine at Nerthampton The Duke of Yorkeâ— insolence The Queeâ—â— impatient â— the Dukes pride The Dukes oft 〈…〉 ruine The Eâ—rle â—â— Salsbury bâ—â— headeâ— The end of young Rutland The Battaile â—â— Mortiâ—â—â—s Crosse Three sâ—nâ—ey seene at one time Owen Tudorâ— end King Henry left before to the keeping of the Duke of Norfolke and the Earle of Warwicke The Queene getteth the day at Saint Albans The Yorkists Army disâ—omfited at this second Battâ—ll at Saint Albans King Henry of no account The King â—â—etâ— with the Queene and her â—â—â—â—◠〈…〉 The cruelty of the Queen King Henry most 〈…〉 The Londoners deny the Queene victuaile for her Army The Duke of Yorke entreth London with applause of the people Edward mâ—â— King by the suffrage of the Commons King Edward 〈…〉 from 〈…〉 to 〈…〉 The Lord Fitzwater and Bastard Neuill slamâ— Warwicke â—â—wâ—â— to reâ—snge his brothers death Warwickes deâ—â—eraâ—e â—â—â— sâ—lutiâ—â— No quarter â—eâ—t at Towton Towton field A miserable defect of the Queenes friends The greateâ—â— slaughter in all that ciuiâ—â— Warre The King and Queen forced to forsake the Land The Earle of Oxford and â—â— Sonne attainted Queene Margarit a womaÌ„ of an â—ndainted spirit The Queene in euery enterprise most vnforâ—â—nate Queene Margarite raiseth â— new Army Sâ—me that â—ad submitted themselues to King Edward â—eâ—olt at king Henrys comming Kin Edward prouideth to resist Queenâ— Margarites comming in The Conflict at Hegly-More The Botâ—aile of Exhâ—â— Queene Margarites 〈…〉 goes still â—â—â—wrackâ— King Henry and the Queane â—â—â—â— The Conflict at Hegly-More The Botâ—aile of Exham Queene Margarites perty goes still to â— wracke King Henry and the Queene parâ— King Henry comming dis guised into England is discouered and taken prisoner King Henry was borne the greatest of Christian Kings The pollicie of King Edward Warwick sent into France to intreat for a marriage betwixt King Edward and
well that all things went not right For with his succours Clarence came not in Whom to suspect he greatly doth beginne And not in vaine for that disloyall Lord Taking those forces he had leuied leaues The Earle and with his Brother doth accord Which of all hope braue VVarwicke so bereâ—ueâ—â— â—hat now King Edward hopes to be restor'd Which then too late the credulous Earle perceiues Edward towards London with an Army sped To take the Crown once more from Henrys head The Queene in France this woful newes that heard How farre through England Edward thus had past As how by Glarence whom she euer fear'd VVarwicke behind-hand mightily was cast This most vndaunted Queene her hopes yet cheer'd By those great perills she had lately past And from King Lewis doth three thousand prest To ayde her friends in England in distresse Whilst she is busie gathering vp those aydes In so short time as France could her afford Couragious VVarwicke basely thus betray'd By Clarence lewdly falsifying his word The most couragious Earle no whit dismayd But trusting still to his successefull Svvord Follovves the King towards London march'â— before Each day his Power increasing more and more But Edward by the Londoners let in Who in their Gates his Army tooke to guard VVarwicke this while that trifling had not bin But with a povver sufficiently prepar'd T' approach the City brauely doth begin To dare the King vvho lately him had dar'd Who then from London his Arm'd forces leades Towards where his march ambitious VVarwicke treadâ— From London this that from Saint Albans set These two graÌ„d souldiers shoulâ—ring for the Crown They in the mid-way are at Barnet met Where then they set their puissant Armies downe VVarwicke as neere as euer hee could get But Edward onely taketh vp the Towne Betwixt whose â—ents a Heath call'd Gladmore lyes Where they prepare to act this bloody prize With Drums and Trumpets they awake the day â—uffled in mists her lowring selfe that showes To stop their madnesse doing all it may â—howing what blood her light was like to lose But hope of slaughter beares so great asway That with the Sunne their rage still higher growes Full were their hands of death so freely dealt That the most mortal wounds the least were felt The aduerse Ensignes to each other waue As t' were to call them forward to the field The King the Earle The Earle the King doth braue Nor cares he for the Leopards in his shield And whilst one friend another striues to saue He 's slaine himselfe if not enforc'd to yeeld In either Army there is not one eye But is spectator of some Tragedy Those wrongs the King had from the Earle receiu'd â—â—pulst the Kingdome onely by his power â—â—en to the height his powerfull hand vp heau'd â—or full'reuenge in this vnhappy houre And by the King the Earle his hopes bereau'd â—heltred by him from many a bloody shower Spurres vp reuenge and with that violent rage That scarsely blood their fury could asswage VVarwicke who sees his Souldiers had the worse And at a neere point to be put to flight Throwing himselfe from oâ— his Armed Horse Thrusts in on foote into the deadliest fight Edward againe with an vnusuall force In his owne person in the Armies sight Puts for the Garland which if now he lose Warwicke his Crowne at pleasure would disposâ— To Edwards side but fortune doth encline Warwickes high valour then was but in vaine His noble soule there destin'd to resigne Braue Mountacute his valiant Brother slaine Here Sommerset with them that did combine Forced to flye and Excesteâ— is faine To saue himselfe by Sanctuary this day Edward's victorious and beares all away THis fatall field vnluckily thus lost That very day so Destiny contriues That the grieu'd Queene at Sea turmoyl'd and tost Neere twenty dayes in Weymouth Road ariues Where scarcely landed but Post after Post Brings her this ill newes vvhich so farre depriues Her of all comfort that shee curst and band Those plaguy winds that suffered her to land Wert thou quoth shee so fortunate in fight O noble VVarwicke when thou wert our foe And now thou stood'st in our indoubted right And should'st for Henry thy high valour show Thus to be slaine what power in our despight Watcheth from heau'n vpon our ouerthrow Th' vnlucky Starres haue certainly made lawes To marke for death the fauourers of our cause O vvhat infernall brought that Edward backe 〈…〉 late expel'd by VVarwickes powerfull hand Was there no way his rotten Ship to wracke Was there no Rock was there no swallowing sand And too the wretched Subiects were so slacke To suffer him so traiterously to land Surely whole heau'n against vs haue conspir'd Or in our troubles they had else beene tyr'd Was I for this so long detayn'd in France From ragefull Tempests and reseru'd till now That I should land to meete with this mischance â—t must needes be the Powers haue made a vowe Vp to that height my sorrowes to aduance That before mine all miseries shall bowe That all the sorrow mortalls can surmise Shall fall far short oâ— Margarites miseries These vvords scarse spoke her halfe-slaine heart to ease â—t the least breath of comfort to preuent â—he next ill newes in rushing after these â—as that King Henry to the Tower was sent As though it selfe euen Destiny should please 〈…〉 wretched Margarites heauy discontent Thrunging so thick as like themselues to smother Or as one ranne to ouertake another Those scattered Troopes from Barnet that escap'd â—earing the Queene thus landed with her power â—ugh much dismay'd with what had lately hapt 〈…〉 Gore drown'd Gladmore in that bloody shower And fearing by the foe to be entrapt Through vntrod grounds in many a tedious howâ— Flocke to her dayly till that by her ayde Equall with Edwards they her Army made When Somerset and Devonshire came in To the sad Queene and bad her not dispaire Though they of late infortunate had bin Yet there vvas helpe that Ruine to repaire What they had lost they hop'd againe to win And that the way lay open yet and faire For that the West would wholly with her rise Besides from VValles assur'd her of Supplyes And euery day still adding to their Force As on their Host tow'rds Glocester they guide When Edward finding their intended course Againe for Battell strongly doth prouide Both Armies they supply vvith Foote and Horse By both their friends as they affect the side And in their march at Tâ—wkesbury they met Where they in Order their Battalions set Ill was her choyse of this vneuen ground Lucklesse the place vnlucky vvas the howre The Heauens vpon her so extreamely frownd As on her head their plagues at once to powre As in a Deluge here her hopes were drown'd Here sees she death her faithfull friends deuoure The earth is fil'd with grones the aire with cry 〈…〉 Horrour on each side
doth enclose her eyes Neuer did death so terribly appeare 〈…〉 e first their Armes the English learnt to weeld â—ho would see slaughter might behold it heere 〈…〉 the true shape vpon this fatall field 〈…〉 vaine was valour and in vaine was feare 〈…〉 vaine to fight in vaine it was to yeeld In vayne to flye for destiny discust By their owne hands or others dye they must Here her deare Deuonshire noble Courtney dyde â—er faithfull friend great Somerset here fell â—â—lnes Leuknâ—r Hamden Whittingham beside O Margarite who thy miseries can tell â—harp were those swords which made their wounds so wide Whose blood the soyâ—e did with abundance swell Other her friends into the Towne that fled Taken no better then the former sped But the amazing misery of all 〈…〉 heauen the great'st vntill the last had kept 〈…〉 it would say that after this none shall 〈…〉 mortall eyes be worthy to be wept The Prince her sonne who sees his friends thus fall And on each side their â—arkases lye heapt Making away in this most piteous plight 〈…〉 s taken prisoner in his tardy flight And forth by Crâ—fts before the con 〈…〉 or brought â—is Proclamation cleering euery doubt 〈…〉 he youths safety liuing where he caught 〈…〉 a reward to him should bring him out But when they once had found him whoÌ„ they soug 〈…〉 Hearing his answeres Princely wise and stout Those bloody brothers Hastings and the rest Sheath'd their sharpe ponyards in his many br 〈…〉 Queene Margarite thus of mortalls most forlo 〈…〉 Her sonne now slaine her army ouerthrowne Left to the world as fortunes only scorne And not one friend to whom to make her moane To so much wo was neuer woman borne This wretched Lady wandring all alone Gets to a homely Cell not farre away If possibly to hide her from the day But wretched woman quickly there bewray'd She thence is taken and to Prison sent Meanely attended miserably array'd The people wondring at her as she went Of whom the most malicious her vpbray'd With good Duke Humphries death her heart to rent Whilst her milde lookes and Gracefull gesture drue Many a sad eye her miseries to rue Till by Duke Rayner Ransomed at last Her tender Father who a Prince but poore Borrow'd great Summes of Lewis with much wast Which for he was not able to restore Prouince and both the Cicils to him past With fruitfull Naples which was all his store To bring her backe from earthly ioyes exil'd The vndon Father helpes the vndone Child And though enlarg'd ere she could leane the land 〈…〉 king a long yeere of each short-liu'd houre 〈…〉 e heare 's that by Duke Richards murthering hand â—he King her husband suffers in the Towre As though high heauen had layd a strict command Vpon each starre some plague on her to powre And vntill now that nothing could suffice Nor giue a period to her miseries FINIS NIMPHIDIA THE COVRT OF FAYRIE OLde Chaucer doth of Topas tell Mad Rablais of Pantagruell A latter third of Dowsabell With such poore trifles playing Others the like haue laboured at Some of this thing and some of that And many of they know not what But that they must be saying Another sort there be that will Be talking of the Fayries still Nor neuer can they haue their fill As they were wedded to them No tales of them their thirst can slake So much delight in them they take And some strange thing they faine would make Knew they the way to doe them Then since no Muse hath bin so bold Or of the Latter or the old Those Eluish secrets to vnfold Which ly from others reeding â—y actiue Muse to light shall bring The court of that proud Fayry King And tell there of the Reuelling Ioue prosper my proceeding And thou Nimphidia gentle Fay Which meeting me vpon the way These secrets didst to me bewray Which now I am in teiling My pretty light fantasticke mayde â—here inuoke thee to my ayde That I may speake what thou hast sayd In numbers smoothly swelling This Pallace standeth in the ayre By Negromancy placed there That it no Tempests needes to feare Which way so ere it bloweth And somewhat Southward tow'rd the Noone Whence lyes a way vp to the Moone And thence the Fayrie can as soone Passe to the earth below it The Walles of Spiders legges are made Well mortized and finely layd He was the master of his Trade It curiously that builded The Windowes of the eyes of Cats And for the roofe instead of Slats Is couer'd with the skinnes of Bats With Mooneshine that are guilded Hence Oberon him port to make Their rest when weary mortalls take And none but onely Fayries wake Descendeth for his pleasure And Mab his merry Queene by night Bestrids young Folkes that lye vpright In elder Times the Mare that height Which plagues them out of measure Hence Shaddowes seeming Idle shapes Of little frisking Elues and Apes To Earth doe make their wanton skapes As hope of pastime hasts them Which maydes thinkes on the Hearth they see When Fires well neere consumed be Their dauncing Hayes by two and three Iust as their Fancy casts them These make our Girles their sluttery rue By pinching them both blacke and blew And put a penny in their shue The house for cleanly sweeping And in their courses make that Round In Meadowes and in Marshes found Of them so call'd the Fayrie ground Of which they haue the keeping These when a Child haps to be got Which after proues an Ideot When Folkes perceiue it thriueth not The fault therein to smother â—ome silly doting brainelesse Calfe â—hat vnderstands things by the halfe â—ay that the Fayrie left this Aulfe And tooke away the other But listen and I shall you tell â— chance in Fayrie that be fell Which certainely may please you well In Loue and Armes delighting Of Oberon that iealous grew Of one of his owne Fayrie crue Too well he fear'd his Queene that knew His loue but ill requiting Pigwiggen was this Fayrie Knight One wondrous gracious in the sight Of faire Queene Mab which day and night He amorously obserued Which made King Oberon suspect His seruice tooke too good effect His saucinesse and often checkt And could haue wisht him starued Pigwiggen gladly would commend â—ome token to Queene Mab to send â—f Sea or Land him ought could lend Were worthy of her wearing â—t length this Louer doth deuise â— bracelet made of Emmotts eyes â— thing he thought that shee would prize No whitt her state impayring And to the Queene a letter Writes Which he most curiously endâ—es Conâ—â—ring her by all the rites Of loue she would be pleased To meete him her â—â—ne Seruant where They might without suspect or feare Themselues to one another cleare And haue their poore hearts cased At mid night the appointed hower And for the Queene a fiering Bower Quoth he is thâ—t faire Cowslip flower On Hipcut hill that
they Are got with paine that sit out of the way Of this ignoble age which raiseth none But such as thinke their blacke damnation To be a trifle such so ill that when They are aduanc'd those few poore honest men That yet are liuing into search doe runne To find what mischiefe they haue lately done Which so prefers them say thou he doth rise That maketh vertue his chiefe exercise And in this base World come what euer shall Hee s worth lamenting that for her doth fall Vpon the three Sonnes of the Lord SHEFFIELD drowned in Humber LIght Sonnets hence and to loose Louers flie And mournefull Maydens sing an Elegie On those three Sheffields ouerwhelm'd with waues Whose losse the teares of all the Muses craues A thing so full of pitty as this was Me thinks for nothing should not slightly passe Treble this losse was why should it not borrow Through this Iles treble parts a treble sorrow But fate did this to let the World to know That sorrowes which from common causes grow Are not worth mourning for the losse to beare But of one onely sonne 's not worth one teare Some tender hearted man as I may spend Some drops perhaps for a deceased friend Some men perhaps their wiues late death may r 〈…〉 Or wiues their husbands but such be but few Cares that haue vs'd the hearts of men to touch So oft and deepely vvill not now bee such who 'll care for losse of maintenance or place Fame liberty or of the Princes grace Or suites in lavv by base corruption crost When he shall finde that this which he hath lost Alas is nothing to his which did loose Three sonnes at once so excellent as those Nay it is feard that this in time may breed Hard hearts in men to their owne naturall seed That in respect of this great losse of theirs â—en wil scarce mourne the death of their own heirs Through all this Ile their losse so publique is That euery man doth take them to be his And as a plague which had beginning there â—o catching is and raigning euery where â—hat those the farthest off as much doe rue them â—s those the most familiarly that knew them Children with this disaster are waxt sage â—nd like to men that strucken are in age â—alke what it is three children at one time â—hus to haue drown'd and in their very prime â—ea and doe learne to act the same so well â—hat then old folke they better can it tell Inuention oft that Passion vs'd to faine â—â— sorrowes of themselues but slight and meane â—o make them seeme great here it shall not need â—or that this Subiect doth so farre exceed â—ll forc'd Expression that what Poesie shall â—appily thinke to grace it selfe withall â—â—lls so below it that it rather borrowes â—race froÌ„ their griefe then addeth to their sorrowes â—or sad mischance thus in the losse of three â—o shewe it selfe the vtmost it could be â—xacting also by the selfe same lawe â—he vtmost teares that sorrowe had to draw â—ll future times hath vtterly preuented â—f a more losse or more to be lamented Whilst in faire youth they liuely flourish'd here â—â— their kind Parents they were onely deere â—t being dead now euery one doth take Them for their owne and doe like sorrow make As for their owne begot as they pretended Hope in the issue which should haue discended From them againe nor here doth end our sorrow But those of vs that shall be borne to morrow Still shall lament them and when time shall count To what vast number passed yeares shall mount They from their death shall duly reckon so As from the Deluge former vs'd to doe O cruell Humber guilty of their gore I now beleeue more then I did before The Brittish Story whence thy name begun Of Kingly Humber an inuading Hun By thee deuoured for t' is likely thou With blood wert Christned blood-thirsty till now The Ouse the Doue And thou farre clearer Trent To drowne these Sheffields as you gaue consent Shall curse the time that ere you were infus'd Which haue your waters basely thus abus'd The groueling Boore ye hinder not to goe And at his pleasure Ferry to and fro The very best part of whose soule and blood Compar'd with theirs is viler then your mud But wherefore Paper doe I idly spend On those deafe waters to so little end And vp to starry heauen doe I not looke In which as in an euerlasting booke Our ends are written O let times rehearse Their fatall losse in their sad aniverse To the noble Lady the Lady I. S. of worldly crosses MAdame to shew the smoothnesse of my vaine Neither that I would haue you entertaine The time in reading me which you would spend In faire discourse with some knowne honest friend I write not to you Nay and which is more My powerfull verses striue not to restore What time and sicknesse haue in you impair'd â—o other end my Elegie is squar'd Your beauty sweetnesse and your gracefull parts â—hat haue drawne many eyes wâ—n many hearts Of me get little I am so much man â—hat let them doe their vtmost that they can â— will resist their forces and they be Though great to others yet noâ— so to me The first time I beheld you I then saw That in it selfe which had the power to draw My stay'd affection and thought to allow You some deale of my heart but you haue now Got farre into it and you haue the skill For ought I see to winne vpon me still When I doe thinke how brauely you haue borne Your many crosses as in fortunes scorne And how neglectfull you haue seem'd to be Of that which hath seem'd terrible to me â— thought you stupid nor that you had felt â—hose griefes which often I haue seene to melt â—nother woman into sighes and teares A thing but seldome in your sexe and yeares But when in you I haue perceiued agen Noted by me more then by other men How feeling and how sensible you are Of your friends sorrowes and with how much caâ— You seeke to cure them then my selfe I blame That I your patience should so much misname Which to my vnderstanding maketh knowne Who feeles anothers griefe can feele their owne When straight me thinks I heare your patience say Are you the man that studied Seneca Plinies most learned letters and must I Read you a Lecture in Philosophie T' auoyd the afflictions that haue vs'd to reach you I'â—â— learne you more Sir then your bookes can teacâ— yoâ— Of all your sexe yet neuer did I know Any that yet so actually could show Such rules for patience such an easie way That who so sees it shall be forc't to say Loe what before seem'd hard to be discern'd Is of this Lady in an instant learn'd It is heauens will that you should wronged be By the malicious that the world might see Your Doue-like meekenesse for had the base scum The spawne of fiends beene in your