THE Famous Chronicle of king Edward the first sirnamed Edward Longshankes with his returne from the holy land ALSO THE LIFE OF LLEVELLEN rebell in Wales Lastly the sinking of Queene Elinor who sunck at Charingcrosse and rose againe at Pottershith now named Queenehith LONDON Printed by Abell Ieffes and are to be solde by William Barley at his shop in Gratious streete 1593 THE Famous Chronicle historie of King Edwarde the first sirnamed Edwarde Longshankes with the sincking of Queene Elinor at Charingcrosse and her rising againe at Potters hith otherwise called Queene hith Enter Gilbart de Clare Earle of Glocester with the Earle of Sussex Mortimer the Earle of March Dauid Lluellens brother waiting on Helinor the Queene mother The Queene Mother MY L. lieutenant of Glocester and L. Mortimor To do you honor in your Soueraignes eyes That as we heare is newly come aland From Palestine with all his men of warre The poore remainer of the royall Fleete Preseru'd by miracle in Sicill Roade Go mount your Coursers meete him on the way Pray him to spur his Steede minutes and houres Vntill his mother see hir princely sonne Shining in glory of his safe returne Exeunt Lords Manet Queene Mother Illustrious England auncient feat of kings Whose chiualrie hath roiallizd thy fame That sounding brauely through terrestiall vaile Proclaiming conquests spoiles and victories Rings glorious Ecchoes through the farthest worlde What warlike nation traind in feates of armes What barbarous people stubborne or vntaimd What climate vnder the Meridian signes Or frozen Zone vnder his brumall stage Erst haue not quaked and trembled at the name Of Britaine and hir mightie Conquerour Her neighbor realmes as Scotland Denmarke France Aude with their deedes and iealious of her armes Haue begd defensiue and offensiue leagues Thus Europe riche and mightie in her kinges Hath feard braue England dreadfull in her kings And now to eternize Albions Champions Equiualent with Troians auncient fame Comes louely Edward from Ierusalem Veering before the winde plowing the sea His stretched sailes fild with the breath of men That through the world admires his manlines And loe at last ariued in Douer roade Long shanke your king your glory and our sonne With troopes of conquering Lords and warlike knights Like bloudy crested Mars orelookes his hoste Higher then all his armie by the head Martching along as bright as Phoebus eyes And we his mother shall beholde our sonne And Englands Peeres shall see their Soueraigne The Trumpets sound and enter the traine viz. his maimed Souldiers with headpeeces and Garlands on them euery man with his red Crosse on his coate the Ancient borne in a Chaire his Garland and his plumes on his headpeece his Ensigne in his hand Enter after them Glocester and Mortimer bareheaded others as many as may be Then Longshanks and his wife Elinor Edmund Couchback and Ione and Signior Moumfort the Earle of Leicesters prisoner with Sailers and Souldiers and Charles de Moumfort his brother Q. Mother Glocester Edward O my sweete sonnes And then she fals and sounds Longsh. Helpe Ladies O ingratefull desteny To welcome Edward with this tragedie Glocest. Pacient your highnes t is but mothers loue Receiu'd with sight of her thrice valiant sonnes Madam amaze not see his Maiestie Returnd with glory from the holy land Moth. Braue sons the worthy Champions of our God The honourable souldiers of the highest Beare with your mother whose aboundant loue With teares of ioyes salutes your sweete returne From famous iourneys hard and fortunate But lordes alas how heauie is our losse Since your departure to these Christian warres The king your Father and the prince your sonne And your braue Vnckle Almaines Emperour Aye me are dead Longsh. Take comfort madam leaue these sad laments Deare was my vnckle dearer was my sonne And ten times dearer was my noble father Yet were their liues valewd at thousand worlds They cannot scape the arrest of dreadfull death Death that dooth seaze and sommon all alike Then leauing them to heauenly blessednes To ioyne in thrones of glory with the iust I doo salute your royall Maiestie My gratious mother Queene and you my lordes Gilbart de Clare Sussex and Mortimer And all the princely states of Englands peeres With health and honor to your harts content And welcome wished England on whose ground These feete so often haue desird to tread Welcome sweete Queene my fellow Traueller Welcome sweete Nell my fellow mate in armes Whose eyes haue seene the slaughtered Sarazens Pil'de in the ditches of Ierusalem And lastly welcome manly followers That beares the scars of honor and of armes And on your war drums carry crownes as kings Crowne Murall Nauall and triumphant all At view of whom the Turkes haue trembling fled And Sarazens like sheepe before the walles Haue made their cottages in walled townes But Bulwarkes had no fence to beate you back Lords these and they will enter brasen gates And teare downe lime and Morter with their nailes Imbrace them Barons these haue got the name Of English Gentlemen and knights at armes Not one of these but in the Champaine field Hath wonne his crowne his collar and his spurs Not Caesare loading through the streetes of Rome The captiue kings of conquered nations Was in his princely triumphes honoured more Then English Edward in this martiall sight Countrimen your lims are lost in seruice of the Lord Which is your glory and your Countries fame For lims you shalt haue liuing lordships lands And be my counsellors in warres affaires Souldiers sit downe Nell sit thee by my side These be prince Edwards pompious treasurie The Queene Mother being set on the one side and Queene Elinor on the other the king sitteth in the middest mounted highest and at his feete the Ensigne vnderneath him O glorious Capitoll beautious Senate house Triumphant Edward how like sturdie Oakes Do these thy Souldiers circle thee about To shield and shelter thee from winters stormes Display thy crosse old Aimes of the Vies Dub on your Drums tand with Indiaes sunne My lustie westerne lads Matreueirs thou Sound prowdly here a perfect point of warre In honour of thy Souereignes safe returne Thus Long shanks bids his Souldiers Bien veneu Vse Drummes Trumpets and Ensignes and then speake Edward Edw. O God my God the brightnes of my daye How oft hast thou preseru'd thy seruant safe By sea and land yea in the gates of death O God to thee how highly am I bound For setting me with these on English ground One of my mansion houses will I giue To be a colledge for my maimed men Where euery one shall haue an hundred markes Of yearely pention to his maintenance A Souldier that for Christ and countrie sightes Shall want no liuing whilst king Edward liues Lords you that loue me now be liberall And giue your larges to these maimed men Q. Mot. Towards this erection doth thy mother giue Out of her dowrie fiue thousand pounds of gold To finde them Surgeons to
To passe the wearie time away Wearie God wot poore wench to thee That neuer thought these daies to see Mortimor Breake heart and split mine eies in twaine Neuer let me heare those wordes againe Frier What can the Frier doe or saie To passe the wearie time awaie More dare I doe then he dare saie Because he doubts to haue away Eli. Doe somewhat Frier saie or sing That may to sorrowes so lace bring And I meane while wil Garlands make Morti. O Mortimor were it for thy sake A Garland were the happiest stake That euer this hand vnhappie drew Frier Mistres shal I tel you true I haue a song I learnd it long agoe I wot not whether yo le like it wel or ill T is short and sweete but somewhat brolde before Once let me sing it and I aske no more Eli. What Frier will you so indeede Agrees it somewhat with your neede Frier Why mistres shal I sing my creede Eli. That 's fitter of the two at neede Morti. O wench how maist thou hope to speede Frier O mistres out it goes Looke what comes next the Frier throes The Frier sittes along and singes Morti. Such a sitting who euer saw An Eagles bird of a Iacke dawe Eli. So Sir is this all Morti. Sweete heart here 's no more Eli. How now good fellow more indeede By one then was before Frier How now the diuel in steede of a dittie Morti. Frier a dittie come late from the cittie To aske some pitty of this lasse so pretty Some pitty sweete mistres I praie you Eli. How now Frier where are we now and you play not the man Frier Friend Copes mate you that come late from the Cittie To aske some pittie of this lasse so prettie In likenes of a doleful dittie Hang me if I doe not paie yee Mortimor O Frier you grow chollericke wel yo le Haue no man to Court your mislers but your selfe On my word I le take you downe a botton hole Frier Ye talk ye talke childe Enter Lluellen and Meredith Lluellen T is wel potter you fight in a good quarrel Meredith Mas this blade wil holde let mee see then Frier Frier Mines for mine owne turne I warrant giue his Tooles rise and le ts to it but no and you loue me I skorne the oddes I can tel you see faire play and you be Gentlemen Lluellen Mary shal we Frier let vs see be their staues of a length good so now let vs deeme of the matter Frier and Potter without more clatter I haue cast your water and see as deepe into your desire as he that hadde diued everie day into your bosome O Frier wil nothing serue your turne but Larkes Are such fiue birds for such course Clarkes None but my Marian can serue your turne Eli. Cast water for the house wil burne Frier O mistres mistres flesh is fraile Ware when the signe is in the taile MIghtie is loue and doth preuaile Lluellen Therefore Frier shalt thou not faile But mightily your foe assaile And thrash this Potter with thy flaile And Potter neuer raue nor raile Not aske questions what I aile But take this toole and doe not quaile But thrash this Friers russet cote They take the Flailes And make him sing a dastards note And crie Peccaus miserere Dauid In amo amavi Goe to Mortimor Strike strike Frier Strike Potter be thou liefe or loth And if you le not strike I le strike for both Potter strikes He must needs go that the diuel driues Then Frier beware of other mens wiues Frier strikes I wish maister proud Potter the Diuell haue my soule But I le make my flaile circumscribe your noule Lluellen Why so now it cottens now the game beginnes One knaue currieth another for his sinnes Frier kneeles O maister short en my offences in mine eies If this Crucifige doe not suffice Send me to Heauen in a hempen sacrifice Frier kneeles O maisters maisters let this bee warning The Frier hath infected me with his learning Lluellen Villains do not touch the forbidden haire now to delude or to dishonor me Frier O maister quae nagata sunt grata sunt Lluellen Rice euery day thus shal it be wee le haue a thrashing set among the Friers and he that of these chalengers laies on slowest loade be thou at hand Rice to gore him with thy gode Frier A Potter Potter the Frier may rue That euer this day this our quarrel he knew My pate adle mine armes blacke and blue Potter Ah Frier who may his fates force eschew I thinke Frier you are prettilie scholde Frier And I thinke the Potter is handsomlie coold Exeunt ambo Morti. No Martimor here that Eternal fire That burnes and flames with brands of hot desire Why Martimor why doest thou not discouer Thy selfe her knight her liegeman and her louer Exit Martimor Enter Iohn Balioll King of Scots with his traine Lords of Albana and my peeres in France Since Balioll is inuested in his rights And weares the roial Scottish Diadem Time is to rouze him that the world may wotte Scotland disdaines to carrie Englands yoke Therefore my friend thus put in readines Why slacke we time to greete the English king With resolute message to let him know our minds Lord Versses though thy faith and oath be tane To follow Baliols armes for Scotlands right Yet is thy heart to Englands honor knit Therefore in spite of England and thy selfe Beare thou defiaunce proudly to thy king Tel him Albania findes heart and hope To shake of Englands tiranny be time To reskue Scotlands honor with his sword Lorde Bruce see cast about Versses necke A strangling halter that he minde his hast How farest thou Versses wilt thou doe this message Versses Although no comon post yet for my king I wil to England maugre Englands might And doe mine arrand boldly as becomes Albeit I honor English Edwards name And hold this slauish contemnment to skorne Balioll. Then hie away as swift as swallow flies And meete me on our rodes on Englands ground We there thinke of thy message and thy hast Sound Trumpets Exit Balioll. Enter King Edward Longshankes Edmund Duke of Lancaster Gloster Sussex Dauid Crespall booted from Northam Longsh. Now haue I leasure Lords to bid you welcome into Wales Welcome sweet Edmund to christen thy young nephew And welcome Cressingham giue me thy hand But Sussex what became of Mortimor We haue not seene the man this manie a daie Sussex Before your highnes rid frō hence to Northam Sir Roger was a suter to your Grace Touching faire Elinor Lluellens loue And so belike denide with discontent A discontinues from your Roial presence Longsh. Why Sussex saide we not for Elinor So she would leaue whom she had loued too long Shee might haue fauour with my Queene and me But man her minde about her fortune mounts And that 's a cause she failes in her accounts But goe with me my lord of Lancaster We will goe see my beauteous louely
That if his wings grow flig they may be clipt Enter the Potter and the Potters wife called the Potters his dwelling there and Iohn her man Potterswife Iohn come awaie you goe as though you slept a great knaue and be afraide of a little thundering and lightning Iohn Call you this a little thundering I am sure my breeches findes it a great deale for I am sure they are stufte with thunder Potterswife They are stufte with a foole are they not will it please you to carrie the lantern a little handsommer and not to carrie it with your handes in your slops Iohn Slops quoth you woulde I had taried at home by the fire and then I should not haue neede to put my hands in my pockets but I le lâ—e my life I know the reason of this towle weather Potâ—wife Doe you know the reason I praie thee Iohn tel me and let me heare this reason Iohn I lâ—e my life sonâ—e of your Gossipse be cros legâ— that we came from but you are wise mistres for you â—om now awâ— and wilâ— no 〈◊〉 a gossiping in a drie house all night Potterswife Would it please you to walke and leaue of your knauerie but st◠〈◊〉 what 's that riseth out of the ground Iesus blesse vs Iohn look how it riseth higher and higher Iohn Be my troth mistres t is a woman good Lord do women grâ— I neuer saw none grow before Poâ—swife Hold thy tongue thou foolish knaue it is the spirite of some woman Queene Ha let me see where am I on Charing green I o◠〈◊〉 greene here hâ—rd by Westminster where I was crowned and Edward there made King I t is true so it is and therefore Edward kisse not me vnlesse you will straight perfume your lips Edward Potterswife Ora pro nobis Iohn I praie â—ll to your prayers for my life it is the Queene that chases thus who sâ—cke this daâ—e on Charing greene and now is risen vp on Potters Hiue and therfore truâ—e 〈◊〉 I le go to her Here let the Potterswife goe to the Queen Queene Welcome good woman what place is this sea or land I pray shew to me Potterswife Your Grace neede not to feare you are on firme ground it is the Potters Hiue and therfoere cheare your Maiestie for I wil see you safe conducted to the Court if case your highnes be therewithall pleased Make a noise Westward how Queene I good woman conduct me to the court that there I maie bewaile my sinfull life and call to God to saue my wretched soule won aÌ„ what noise is this I hear Potterswife And like your Grace it is the Watermen that cals for passengers to goe VVestward now Queene That fits my turne for I will straight with them to Kinges towne to the Court and there repose me till the king come home and therefore sweete woman conceale what thou hast seene and leade mee to those Watermen for here doth Elinor droupe Iohn Come come here 's a goodly leading of you is ther not first you must make vs afeard and now I must bee troubled in carrying of you I would you were honestly laid in your bed so that I were not troubled with you Exeunt ambo Enter two messengers the one that Dauid shall be hangd the other of the Queenes sincking 1. Mrs Honor and Fortune waite vppon the Crowne Of Princelie Edward Englands valiant king Edward Thanks Messenger and if my God vouchsafe That winged Honor waite vppon my throne I le make her 〈◊〉 her plumbes vppon their heads Whose true allegeance doth confirme the Crowne What news in Wales how wends our busines there 2 Messeng The false disturber of that wasted soile VVith his adherents is surprised my King And in assurance he shall start no more Breathles he lies and headles to my Lordes The circumstance these lines shal here vnfold Edward A harmfull weede by wisedome rooted out Can neuer hurt the true ingrafted plant But what 's the newes Sir Thomas Spencer bringes Spenc. Wonders my Lord wrapt vp in homely words And Letters to informe your Maiestie Edw. O Heauens what maie these miracles portend Nobles my Queene is sicke but what is more Reed brother Edmund reede a wondrous chancâ— Edmund reedes a â—ine of the Queens sincking Edmund And â—not heard for red so strange a thing Edward Sweete Queene this sincking is a surfet tane Of pride wherewith thy womans mans heart did swell A dangerous maladie in the heart to dwell Lords march we towards London now in hast I will goe see my loue Elinor And comfort her after this strange affright And where she is importune to haue talke And secret conference with some Friers of France Mun thou with me and I with thee will goe And take the swete confession of my Nell We will haue French enough to parlee with the Queeâ— Edmund Might I aduise your royall maiestie I would not goe for millions of golde What â—nowes your grace disguised if you wend What you may heare in secrecy reuealde That maie appeale and discontent your highnes A goodly creature is your Elinor Brought vp in nicenesse and in delicacie Then listen not to her confession Lord To wound thy heart with some vnkinde conceite But as for Lancaster he maie not goe K. Edrard. brother I am resolude and goe I willâ— If God giue life and cheare my dying Queene Why Mun why man what ere King Edward heates It lies in God and him to pardon all I le haue no ghostlie Fathers out of France England hath learned Clarkes and Confessors To comfort and absolue as man may doe And I le be ghostlie Father for this once Edmund Edmund thou maist not goe although thou diâ— And yet how maist thou here thy King denie Edward is gratious merciful meeke and milde But 〈◊〉 when he findes he is beguilde Edward Messenger hie thee backe to Shrewsbury Bid Mortimor thy maister speede him fast And with his fortune welcome vs to London I long to see my beauteous louelie Queene Exeunt omnes Enter Dauid drawne on a hurdle with Mortimor and officers accompanied with the Frier the Nouice the Harper and Lluellens head on a speare Frier On afore on afore Nouice Hold vp your torches for dropping Frier A faire procession Sir Dauid be of good chear you cannot goe out of the waie hauing so manie guides at hand Nouice Be sure of that for we goe all the high way to the Gallowes I warrant you Dauid I goe where my starre leads me and die in my countreis iust cause and quarrell Harper The Starre that twinckled at thy birth Good brother mine hath mard thy mirth An o'de saide â—aw Earth must to earth Next yeare will be a pitteous death Of Hempe I dare laie a pennie This yeare is hangde so many Frier Well saide Morgan Pigot Harper and Prophet for the Kinges one mouth Nouice Tunda tedo tedo dote dum this is the daie thâ— time is come Morgan Pigots prophecie and Lord Lluellens Tragedie Frier Who saith
the Prophet is an Asse whose prophecies come so to paile Said he not oft and sung it to Lluellen after much adoe Should in spite heaue vp his chin and be the highest of his kinne And see aloft Lluellens head Empalled with a crowne of lead My Lord let not this South-faire lacke That hath such cunning in his iacke Harper Dauid holde still your clacke Least your heeles make your neâ— cracke Frier Gentle Prophet and yee loue me for speâ— me not t is the worst â—ke in the world to sturre a wirche or anger a wise man maister unlesse haue wee anie nast best giue my horses some more â—aie Exeunt omnes Elinor in child-bed with her daughter Ione and other Ladies Qu. Eli. Cal forth those renowmed Friers come from France And raise me gentle Ladies in my bed That while this faultring engine of my speach I leane to vtter my concealed guilt I maie respect and so repent my sinnes Ione VVhat plague atracts your roiall Maiestie Qu. Eli. Ah Ione I perish through a double warres First in this painfull prison of my soule A world of dreadfull sins holpe thee to sight And Nature hauing lost her working power Yeeldes vp her earthlie Fortunes vnto death Next ouer VVar my soule is ouer preast In thee my Conscience loaden with misdeedes Sittes seeing my Conscience to ensue VVithout especiall fauour from aboue Ione Your Grace must account it a warriors crosse To make resist where daunger there is none Superdewe your Feuer by precious Art And helpe you still through hope of heauenlie aide Qu. Eli. The carelesse sleepe rule on the mountaines toppes That see the Sea-man floating on the swerge The threatning windes comes springing with the flouds To ouerwhelme and drowne his craised keele His tackes torne his sailes borne ouer boarde How pale like Vallowe flowres the mountaine standes Vppon his hatches waiting for his iearke Wringing his hands that ought to plaie the pompe Maie blaâ—e his feare that laboreth not for life So thou poore soule maie tell a seruile tale Maie councell me but I that prooue thy paine Maie heare thee talke but not redresse my harme But ghastlie death alreadie is addrest To gleane the latest blossome of my life My spirite failes me are these Friers come Enter the King and his brother in Friers weeds King Dominus vobiscum Edmund Et cum spiritu tuo Qu. Elinor Draw neare graue Fathers and approche my bed Forbeare our presence Ladies for a while And leaue vs to our secret conference King What cause hath moued your roiall Maiestie To call your seruaunts from their countreis bounds For to attend your pleasure here in Englands court Qu. Eli. See you not holie Friers mine estate My bodie weake inclining to my graue Edm. We see and sorrow for thy paine faire Queene Qu. Eli. By this eternall signes of my defectes Friers consecrate mine ineternall griefe My soule ah wretched soule within this brest Faint for to mount the Heauens with wings of grace A hundred by flocking troupes of sinne That stop my passage to my wished howres King The nearer Elinor so the greatest hope of health And daine to vs for to impart your quiet VVho by our praiers and counsaile ought to arme Aspiring soules to scale the heauenly grace Qu. Eli. Shame and remorse doth stop my course of speach King Madam you need not dread our conference VVho by the order of the holy Church Are all annoynted to sacred secrecie Qu. Eli. Did I not thinkeâ— naie were I not assured Your wisedomes would be silent in that cause No feare could make me to bewraie my selfe â—ue gentle fathers I haue thought it good Not to relie vppon these Englishmen But on your trothes you holy men of Fraunce Then as you loue your life and Englands weale Keepe secret my Confession from the king For why my storie nearelie toucheth him Whose loue compared with my losse delights With manie sorrowes that my heart affrights Edmund My heart misgiues King Be silent follow Frier Qu. Eli. In pride of youth when I was yong and faire And gracious in the king of Englands sight The daie before that night his Highnes should Possesse the pleasure of my wedlockes bed Caitife accursed monster as I was His brother Edmund beautifull and young Vppon my bridall couch by my concent Enioies the flowre and fauour of my loue The King be holdeth his brother wofully And I becam a Traitresse to my Lord King Facinus scelus in fandum nefas Edm. Madam through sickenes weakenes and your wittes t were verie good to bethinke yourselfe before you speake Qu. Eli. Good father not so weake but that I woe My heat doth rent to thinke vpon the time But whie exclaimes this holie Frier so Oh praie then for my faults religious man King T is charitie in men of my degree To sorrow for our neighbours hainous sinnes And Madam though some promise loue to you And zeale to Edmund brother to the King I praie the Heauens you both maie soone repent But might it please your Highnes to proceede Vnto this sinne a worser doth succeede Qu. Eli. For Ione of Acon the supposed child And daughter of my Lord the English King Is baselie borne begotten of a Frier Such time as I was their anued in Fraunce His one lie true and lawfull sonne my frendes He is my hope his sonne that should succeed Is Edward of Carnaruan latelie borne Now all the scruples of my troubled minde I sighing sound within your reuerent eares Oh praie for pittie praie for I must die Remitte my God the follie of my youth My groaned spirites attends thy mercies seate Queene Elinor dies Fathers farewell commend me to my King Commend me to my children and my friends And close mine eies for death will haue his due King Blushing I shut theie thine inticing lampes The wanton baites that make me sucke my bane Pirpus hardned flames did neuer reflect More hidious flames then from my brest arise VVhat fault more vilde vnto thy dearest Lord Our daughter base begotten of a Priest And Ned my brother partner of my loue Oh that those eies that lightned Cesars braine Oh that those lookes that mastered Phucebus brand Or else those lookes that staine Melisaes farre Should shrine discreet desire and lawles lust Vnhappie King dishonored in thy stocke Hence faigned weedes vnfaigned is my griefe Edm. Dread Prince my brother if my vowes auaile I call to witnes Heauen in my behalfe If zealous praier might driue you from suspect I bend my knees and humblie craue this boone That you will driue misdeedes out of your minde Maie neuer good betide my life my Lord If once I dreamde vppon this damned deede But my deceased sister and your Queene Afflicted with recurelesse maladies Impatient of her paine grew lunatick Discouering errors neuer dreamde vppon To proue this true the greatest men of all Within their learned volumes doe discord That all extreames and aland in naught but extremes Then thinke oh King her agonie