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
Edwards will is so But soft a while shee meaneth no such thing He's not so swift but shee is twice as slowe No hast but good this message backe to bring Another tune he must be taught to sing VVhich to his hart more deadly is by far Then cryes of ghosts or Mandrakes shreekings are Stapleton who had beene of their counsell long Or woonne with gifts or else of childish feare Or mou'd in conscience with King Edwards wrong Or pittying him or hate to them did beare Or of th'euent that now he did dispaire This Bishop backe from Fraunce to Edward flewe And knowing all discouered all he knewe The platforme of this enterprize disclosd And Torltons drift by circumstances found VVith what conueyance all things are disposd The cunning vsd in laying of the ground And vvith what Art this curious trayle is woond Awakes the King to see his owne estate VVhen to preuent he comes a day too late Isabell the time doth still and still reiorne Charles as a Brother with perswasions deales Edward with threats doth hasten her retorne Pope Iohn with Bulls and curses hard assailes Perswasions curses threats no whit preuailes Chales Edward Iohn Pope Princes doe your worst The Queene fares best when she the most is curst The Spensers who the French-mens humors felt And with their Soueraigne had deuisd the draught VVith Prince and Peers now vnder hand had delt In golden nets who were alreadie caught And nowe King Charles they haue so throughlie wrought That he with sums too slightly ouerwaid Poore Isabells hopes now in the dust are layd Thou base desier thou graue of all good harts Corsiue to kindnes bawd to beastly will Monster of time defrauder of desarts Thou plague which doest both loue and vertue kill Honours abuser friendships greatest ill If curse in hell there worse then other bee I pray that curse may trebled light on thee Nor can all these amaze this mighty Queene VVho vvith affliction neuer was controld Neuer such courage in her sex was seene Nor was she cast in other womens mould But can endure vvarres trauell want and cold Strugling with Fortune nere with greefe opprest Most cheerefull still when she was most distrest Thus she resolu'd to leaue vngratefull France And in the world her fortune yet to trye Chaunging the ayre hopes time will alter chance As one whose thoughts with honors wings doe flye Her mighty mind still scorning miserie Yet ere she went her greeued hart to heale Shee rings King Charles this dolefull parting peale Is this the trust I haue repos'd quoth shee And to this end to thee my griefes haue told Is this the kindnes that thou offerest mee And in thy Country am I bought and sold In all this heate art thou become so cold Came I to Fraunce in hope to find a frend And now in thee haue all my hopes their end Phillip quoth shee thy Father neuer was But some base peasant or some slauish hind Neuer did Kingly Lyon get an Asse Nor cam'st thou of that Princely Eagles kind But sith thy hatefull cowardise I find Sinke thou thy power thy Country ayde and all Thou barbarous Moore thou most vnnaturall Thou wert not Sonne vnto the Queene my mother Nor wert conceiued in her sacred woombe Some misbegotten changeling not my Brother O that thy Nurses armes had beene thy Toombe Or thy birth-day had beene the day of the doombe Neuer was Fortune with such error led As when shee plac'd a Crowne vpon thy head And for my farewell this I prophecie That from my loynes that glorious fruite shall spring VVhich shall tread downe that base posteritie And lead in tryumph thy succeeding King To fatall Fraunce I as Sibilla sing Her Citties sackd the ruine of her men VVhen of the English one shall conquer ten Beumount who had in Fraunce this shufling seene VVhose soule with kindnes Isabell had wonne To flye to Henault now perswades the Queene Assuring her what good might there be done Offering his Neece vnto the Prince her Sonne The onely meane to bend his brothers might Against King Edward and to back her right This worthy Lord experienc'd long in armes VVhom Isabell with many fauours grac'd VVhose Princely blood the brute of conquest warmes In whose great thoughts the Queene was highly plac'd Greeuing to see her succours thus defac'd Hath cast this plot which managed with heed Sith all doe fayle should onely helpe at need Shee who but lately had her Ankors wayd And sawe the cloudes on euery side to rise Nor now can stay vntill the streame be stayd Nor harbour till the cleering of the skies VVho though she rou'd the marke stil in her eyes Accepts his offer thankfully as one Succouring the poore in such affliction This courteous Earle mou'd with her sad report VVhose eares were drawne to her inchanting tong Traind vp with her in Phillips royall Court And fully now confirmed in her wrong Her foes growe weake her friends grow daily strong The Barrons oath gag'd in her cause to stand The Commons word the Cleargies helping hand All Couenants signd with wedlocks sacred seale In friendships bonds eternally to bind And all proceeding from so perfect zeale And suting right with Henalts mighty mind VVhat ease hereby the Queene doth hope to find The sweet contentment of the louely bride Young Edward pleasd and ioy on euery side NOw full seauen times the Sunne his welked waine Had on the top of all the Tropick set And seauen times descending downe againe His fiery wheeles had with the fishes wet Since malice first this mischiefe did beget In which so many courses hath beene runne As he that time celestiall signes hath done From Henalt now this great Bellona comes Glyding along fayre Belgias glassie maine Mazing the shores with noyse of thundring drums VVith her young Edward Duke of Aquitayne The fatall scourges of King Edwards raigne Her Souldiour Beumount and the Earle of Kent And Mortimer that mightie Malcontent Three thousand Souldiers mustred men in pay Of Almaynes Swisers trustie Henawers Of natiue English fled beyond the Sea Of fat-braind Fleamings fishie Zelanders Edwards decreasing power augmenting hers Her friends at home expect her comming in And new commotions euery day begin The Coasts be daylie kept with watch and ward The Beacons burning at thy foes discrie O had the loue of Subiects beene thy guard T'ad beene t'effect what thou didst fortifie But t'is thy houshold home-bred Enemie Nor Fort nor Castell can thy Countrey keepe VVhen foes doe wake and dreamed friends doe sleepe In vaine be armes when heauen becomes a foe Kneele weepe intreat and speake thy Deaths-man fayre The earth is armd vnto thy ouerthrowe Goe pacifie the angrie powers by prayer Or if not pray goe Edward and dispayre Thy fatall end why doest thou this begin Locking Death out thou keep'st destruction in A Southwest gale for Harwich fitly blowes Blow not so fast to kindle such a fier VVhilst vnder saile shee yet securely rowes Turne gentle wind and
Mortimeriados THE LAMENtable ciuell warres of Edward the second and the Barrons AT LONDON Printed by I.R. for Humfry Lownes and are to be solde at his shop at the West end of Paules Church To the excellent and most accomplish'd Ladie Lucie Countesse of Bedford RArest of Ladies all of all I haue Anchor of my poore Tempest-beaten state Which giuest life to that life Nature gaue And to thy selfe doest onely consecrate My hopes true Goddesse guider of my fate Vouchsafe to grace what here to light is brought Begot by thy sweet hand borne of my thought And though I sing of this tumultuous rage Still paynting passions in these Tragedies Thy milder lookes this furie can aswage Such is the vertue of thy sacred eyes Which doe contayne a thousand purities And lyke them selues can make their obiect such As doth Th'elixar all things it doth tuch Sweet fruite sprong from that euer sacred tree That happie wombe from whom thou lyfe do'st take And with that lyfe giues vertue vnto thee Thus made of her her lyke of thee to make Shee lou'd for thee thou honour'd for her sake And eithers good from other so deriued Yet shee nor thou of any due depriued The Harringtons whose house thy byrth hath blest Adding such honour to theyr familie And famous Bedfords greatnes still increast Raysing the height of theyr Nobilitie That Earledomes tytle more to dignifie That Vertue lyuely pictur'd forth in thee May truly be discernd what shee should be And Lawrell-crowned Sidney Natures pride Whom heauen to earth but onely shew'd this good Betwixt the world and thee did then deuide His fame and vertues which both equall stood The world his fame to thee of her owne blood Hee gaue his vertues that in his owne kind His neuer-matched worth might be enshrin'd That whilst they boast but of their sun-burnt brayns Which Tramontani long haue termd vs so With all their Po's their Tyburs and their Rheyn's Greeuing to see how tidefull Thames shall flowe Our Groues which for the gracefull Muses growe Thy name shall be the glorie of the North The fayrest fruit that euer shee brought forth And in despight of tyranizing times This hope great Lady yet to thee is left Thy name shall lyue in steele-out-during rimes Still scorning ages sacraligious theft What fame doth keepe can neuer be bereft Nor can thy past-priz'd honour euer die If lynes can gyue thee immortalitie Leauing vnto succeeding times to see How much thy sacred gyfts I did adore What power thy vertues euer had in mee And what thou wer◠compar'd with those before Which shall in age thy youth againe restore And still shall ad more vigor to thy fame Then earthly honors or a Countesse name Proclayming vnto ages yet to come Whilst Bedford lyu'd what lyuing Bedford was Enclosing thee in this immortall toombe More durable then letter-grauen brasse To shewe what thy great power could bring to passe And other hopes I vtterly refuse And thou my hope my Lady and my Muse. Your Honors euer deuoted seruaunt Michaell Drayton To the right Honorable Lady Lucie Countesse of Bedford WHen God this wondrous Creature did create This euer-mouing body this huge weight VVhose head whose lofty head high situate Is crown'd with starrs constellations bright Hee causd the same one certaine way to moue VVhich moouing some say doth sweet tunes beget Another way the Sunne and Planets proue For they from thence moue where the sun doth set Yet he the Pole-star Cynosura cleere Causd steddily to stand though heauen did gyre For an example to mens actions heere Madam you are the starre of his desire VVhilst hee his thoughts heauen moues ô gracious bee And wonders in your Creature you shall see Your honors and eternities Humble E. B. Mortimeriados THE lowring heauen had mask'd her in a clowde Dropping sad teares vpon the sullen earth Bemoning in her melancholly shrowde The angry starres which raign'd at Edwards birth VVith whose beginning ended all our mirth Edward the second but the first of shame Scourge of the crowne eclipse of Englands fame VVhilst in our blood ambition hotely boyles The Land bewailes her like a wofull Mother On euery side besieg'd with ciuill broyles Her deerest chyldren murthering one another Yet shee in silence forc'd her griefe to smother Groning with paine in trauaile with her woes And in her torment none to helpe her throwes VVhat care would plot discention striues to crosse VVhich like an earthquake rents the tottering state Abroade in warres we suffer publique losse At home betrayd with grudge and priuate hate Faction attending blood-shed and debate Confusion thus our Countries peace confounds No helpe at hand and mortall be her wounds Thou Church then swelling in thy mightines Thou which should'st be this poore sick bodyes soule O nurse not factions which should'st sinne suppresse And with thy members should'st all griefe condole Perswade thy hart and not thy head controle Humble thy selfe dispence not with the word Take Peters keyes but cast aside his sword The ragefull fire which burnt Carnaruans brest Blowne with reuenge of Gauestons disgrace Awakes the Barrons from their nightly rest And maketh way to giue the Spensers place VVhose friendship Edward onely doth embrace By whose alurements he is fondly led To leaue his Queene and flie his lawful bed This Planet stirr'd vp that tempestious blast By which our fortunes Anchorage was torne The storme where-with our spring was first desac'd VVhereby all hope vnto the ground was borne Hence came the griefe the teares the cause to mourne This bred the blemish which her beauty staind VVhose vgly scarr's to after-times remaind In all this heat his greatnes first began The serious subiect of my sadder vaine Great Mortimer the wonder of a man VVhose fortunes heere my Muse must entertaine And from the graue his griefes must yet complaine To shew our vice nor vertues neuer die Though vnder ground a thousand yeeres we lie Thys gust first threw him on that blessed Coast VVhich neuer age discouered before This luckie chaunce drew all King Edward lost This shypwrack cast the prize vpon his shore And thys all-drowning Deluge gaue him more From hence the sunne of his good fortune shone The fatall step to Edwards fatall throne That vnckle now whose name this Nephew bare The onely comfort of the wofull Queene And from his cradle held him as his care And still the hope of all his house had beene VVhilst yet this deep hart-goring wound is greene On this well-seene aduantage wisely wrought To place him highly in her princely thought He saw his inclination from his birth A mighty spirit a minde which did aspire Not of the drossy substance of the earth But of the purest element of fire VVhich sympathizing with his owne desire Name nature feature all did so agree That still in him himselfe he still might see The temper of his nobler moouing part Had that true tutch which purified his blood Insusing thoughts of honor in his hart VVhose
flaggie feathers were not soyld in mud The edge he bare declar'd the mettall good The towring pitch wherein he flew for fame Declar'd the ayrie whence the Eagle came VVorthy the Grand-chyld of so great a sier Braue Mortimer who liu'd whilst Long-shanks raign'd Our second Arthur whom all times admire At Kenelworth the Table round ordayn'd And therein Armes a hundreth Knights maintaind A hundreth gallant Ladies in his Court VVhose stately presence royaliz'd this sport And whilst this poore vvife-widdowed Queene alone In thys dispayring passion pines away Beyond all hope to all but heauen vnknowne A little sparke which yet in secrete lay Breakes forth in flame and turnes her night to day The wofull winter of her sorrowes cheering Euen as the world at the faire Sunnes appearing Yet still perplexed in these hard extreames All meanes deprest which might her faith prefer Blacke foggs oppos'd in those cleere-shining beames VVhich else might lend their friendly light to her This in her lookes direfull reuenge doth stir VVhich strange eclipse plac'd in this irefull signe Our Countries plague and ruine might diuine Her snowy curled brow makes anger smile Her laughing frowne giues beauty better grace Blushing disdaine disdaine doth quite exile Sweet loue and silence wrestling in her face Two capering Cupids in her eyes do chase Her veynes like tydes oft swelling with delight Making Vermilion faire vvhite more then vvhite Her beauty florish'd whilst her fauours fade Her hopes growne old but her desires be yong Her power wants power her passion to perswade Her sexe is weake her will is ouer-strong Patience pleades pitty but reuenge her wrong VVhat reason vrgeth rage doth still denie VVith arguments of vvrathfull iealousie Pale Iealousie child of insatiate loue Of hart-sick thoughts with melancholie bred A hell tormenting feare no faith can moue By discontent with deadly poyson fed VVith heedlesse youth and error vainely led A mortall plague a vertue-drowning flood A hellish fire not quenched but with blood The hate-swolne Lords with furie set on fire VVhom Edwards wrongs to vengeance doe prouoke VVith Lancaster and Herford now conspire No more to beare the Spensers seruile yoke The bonds of their alegiance they haue broke Resolu'd with blood theyr libertie to buy To liue with honor or with fame to dye Amid thys faction Mortimer doth enter The gastly Prologue to thys tragick act His youth and courage boldly bids him venter And tells him still how strongly he was backt Synon perswades howe Illion might be sackt The people still applauding in his eares The fame and credite of the Mortimers Thys vapor-kindled Commet drew her eyes VVhich now began his streamie flagge to reare This beauty-blushing orient of his rise Her clowdy frownes doth with his brightnes cleare The ioyfull'st sight that euer did appeare The messenger of light her happy starre VVhich told her now the dawning was not farre As after pale-fac'd Night the Morning fayre The burning Lampe of heauen doth once erect VVith her sweet Crimson sanguining the ayre On euery side with streakie dappl's fleckt The circled roofe in white and Azure deckt Such colour to her cheekes these newes do bring VVhich in her face doth make a second spring Yet trembling at the Spensers Lordly power Their wrongs oppression and controling pride Th'vnconstant Barrons wauering euery houre The fierce encounter of this raging tyde No stratagem yet strongly policied Shee from suspition seemingly retyers Carelesse in shew of what she most desires Grounded aduice in danger seldom trips The deadliest poyson skill can safely drinke Fore-sight stands fast where giddy rashnes slips VVisdome seemes blinde when eyed as a Linxe Preuention speaketh all but what he thinks The deadliest hate with smyles securely stands Reuenge in teares doth euer wash his hands Loe for her safetie this shee must desemble A benefite which women haue by kind The neerest colour finely to resemble Suppressing thus the greatnes of her mind Now is shee shrowded closely vnder wind And at her prayers poore soule shee plainly ment A silly Queene a harmelesse innocent The least suspition cunningly to heale Still in her lookes humilitie shee beares VVith patience she with mightines must deale So policie religions habite weares He's mad which takes a Lyon by the eares This knew the Queene and this well know the wise This must they learne which toyle in Monarchies Torlton the learnedst Prelate in the Land Vpon a text of politicks to preach Car'd not on Paules preciser poynts to stand Poore Moralls to beleeuing men to teach For he at Kingdomes had a further reach This learned Tutor Isabell had taught In nicer poynts then euer Edward sought Now in meane time the smothered flame brake forth The Mortimers march from the vvesterne playne The Lords in armes at Pomfret in the North The King from London comes with might and mayne Their factious followers in the streetes are slayne No other thing is to be hop'd vpon But horrour death and desolation Like as Sabrina from the Ocean flancks Comes sweeping in along the tawny sands And with her billowes tilting on the bancks Rowles in her flood vpon the westerne strands Stretching her watrie armes along the lands VVith such great furie doe these legions ryse Filling the shores with lamentable cryes Thus of three hands they all set vp theyr rest And at the stake their liues they franckly lay Hee's like to winne who cuts his dealing best And for a Kingdome at the least they play The fayr'st in show must carrie all away And though the King himselfe in sequence came He sawe the Queene lay right to make his game But Fortune masking in this straunge disguise VVhose prodigie whose monster he was borne Now in his lyfe her power t'anotomize Ordayning him her darling and her scorne His Tragedie her triumph to adorne Shee straight begins to bandy him about At thousand ods before the set goes out As when we see the spring-begetting Sunne In heauens black night-gowne couered from our sight And when he yet but fewe degrees hath runne Some fennie fogge damps vp his gladsome light That at his noon-sted he may shine more bright His cheerefull morning Fortune cloudeth thus To make his day more fayre more glorious Edward whom daunger warnd to dread the worst Vnto the hart with poysned ranckor stung Now for his crowne must scuffle if he durst Or else his scepter in the dust were flung To stop the head from which these mischiefes sprung First with the Marchers thinks it fit to cope On whom he knew lay all the Barrons hope Like to a vvhirle-wind comes this irefull King VVhose presence soone the VVelchmens power had staid The Cornish yet theyr forces fayld to bring And Lancaster too slacke forslow'd theyr ayd Faynt-harted friends their succours long delayd Depriu'd of meanes forlorne of farther good And wanting strength to stem so great a flood They vvho perceiu'd their trust was thus betrayd Their long expected purpose thus to quayle How mischiefe still vpon their fortune playd That
with a troubled murmure rush'd As shee had done her best to hide the fault A little whispering moou'd within the vault Made with his tuching softly as he went VVhich seem'd to say it furthered his intent This wondrous Queene whom care from rest had kept Now for his speed to heauen holds vp her hands A thousand thoughts within her bosome heap'd Now in her Closset listning still she stands And though deuided as in sundry strands Yet absent present in desires they bee For minds discerne where eyes could neuer see Loe now he thinks he vaulteth in her sight Still taking courage strengthned by her words Imagining shee sported with delight To see his strong armes stretch the tackling coards And oft a smyle vnto his toyle affords And when shee doubted danger might her heare Call him her soule her life her Mortimer Nowe doth shee wooe the walls intreat and kisse And then protests to memorize the place And to adorne it with a Piramis VVhose glory wrack of time should not deface Then to the cord shee turnes her selfe a space And promiseth if that should set him free A sacred relique it should euer bee Shee saith the small clowds issuing from his breath Seasond with sweet from whence they lately came Should cleere the ayre from pestilence and death And like Promethian life-begetting flame Pure bodies in the element should frame And to what part of heauen they hapt to stray There should they make another milkie way Attaind the top his tyred lymm's to breath Mounted in tryumph on his miseries The gentle earth salutes him from beneath And couer'd with the comfortable skyes Lightned with beames of Isabella's eyes Downe from the Turret desperatly doth slide Now for a kingdome Fortune be his guide As hee descends so doe her eyes ascend As feare had fixt them to behold his fall Then from the sight away her sight doth bend VVhen chilly coldnes doth her hart appall Then out for helpe shee suddainly doth call Silent againe watching if ought should hap Her selfe might be the ground his graue her lap Now doth she court the gentle calmie ayre And then againe shee doth coniure the winde Now doth she try to stop the night by prayer And then with spells the heauy sence to binde Then by the burning Tapers shee diuinde Now shee intreats faire Thames that hee might passe The Hellespont where her Leander was The brushing murmure stills her like a song Yet fearing least the streame should fall in loue Enuies the drops which on his tresses hong Imagining the waues to stay him stroue And when the billowes with his brest he droue Grieued there-with shee turnes away her face Iealous least hee the billowes should embrace Shee likneth him to the transformed Bull VVhich curll'd the fayre flood with his Iuory flanck VVhen on his backe he bare the louely trull Floting along vnto the Cretan banck Comparing this to that lasciuious pranck And swears then hee no other Ioue there were If shee Europa had been present there Thus seekes he life encourag'd by his loue Yet for his loue his life he doth eschue Danger in him a deadly feare doth moue And feare enuits him danger to pursue Rage stirr's reuenge reuenge doth rage renue Danger and feare rage and reuenge at strife Life warr's with loue and loue contends with life Thys angry Lyon hauing slypp'd his chayne Now like a Quartain makes King Edward quake VVho knew too well ere he was caught againe Some of his flock his bloody thirst must slake And vnawares intangled in this brake Sawe further vengeance hanging in the wind Knowing too well the greatnes of his mind Thys once againe the world begins to worke Theyr hopes at length vnto thys issue brought VVhilst yet the Serpent in his Den doth lurke Of whom God knowes the King full little thought The instrument which these deuises wrought For ther's no treason woundeth halfe so deepe As that which doth in Princes bosoms sleepe Now must the Cleargie serue them for a cloke The Queene her state vnto the time must fit But tis the Church-man which must strike the stroke Now must thys Prelate shew a statesmans wit They cast the plot and March must manage it They both at home together lay on load And he the Agent to effect abroad VVho sweetly tunes his well-perswading tong In pleasing musick to the French-kings ears The sad discourse of Isabellas wrong VVith tragick action forcing silent tears Moouing to pitty euery one that hears That by discouery of thys foule reproch Old mischiefes so might new be set abroch VVhilst they are tempring in these home-bred iarres How for the Scot fit passage might be made To lay the ground of these succesfull warrs That hope might giue him courage to inuade And from the King the Commons to perswade That whilst at home his peace he would assure His further plague in Fraunce he might procure By these reports all circumstances knowne Sounds Charles of Fraunce into the lists againe To ceaze on Guyen by Armes to clayme his owne VVhich Edward doth vnlawfully detaine Homage for Pontieu and for Aquitaine Reuoking this dishonorable truce Vrg'd by his wrongs and Isabels abuse The spirits thus rayz'd which haunt him day and night And on his fortune heauen doth euer lower Danger at hand and mischiefe still in sight Ciuill sedition weakning still his power No ease of paine one minute in the hower T' intreat of peace with Charles he now must send Else all his hopes in Fraunce were at an end Heere is the poynt wherein all poynts must end VVhich must be handled with no meane regard The prop whereon this building must depend VVhich must by leuell curiouslie be squard The cunningst descant that had yet beene hard Heere close conueyance must a meane prouide Else might the ambush easely be discride Or this must helpe or nothing serues the turne This way or no way all must come about To blowe the fier which now began to burne Or tind the strawe before the brand went out This is the lot which must resolue the doubt To walke the path where Edward bears the light And take their ayme by leuell of his sight This must a counsell seriously debate In grauest iudgements fit to be discust Beeing a thing so much consernes the state Edward in this must to their wisedomes trust No whit suspecting but that all were iust Especially the Church whose mouth shoud be The Oracle of truth and equitie Torlton whose tongue mens eares in chaines could tye VVhose words euen like a thunderbolt could pearce And were alowd of more aucthoritie Then was the Sibills olde diuining verse VVhich were of force a iudgement to reuerse Now for the Queene with all his power doth stand To lay this charge on her well-guiding hand VVhat helpes her presence to the cause might bring First as a wife a sister and a mother A Queene to deale betwixt a King and King To right her sonne her husband and her brother And each to her
To gaze vpon thee vntill they be blind Sweet face quoth shee how art thou changed thus Since beauty on this louely front thou bor'st Like the yong Hunter fresh Hipolitus VVhen in these curles my fauors first thou wor'st Now like great Ioue thy Iuno thou ador'st The Muses leaue theyr double-topped throne And on thy temples make theyr Helicon Come tell mee now what griefe and danger is Of paine and pleasure in imprisonment At euery breath the poynt shal be a kisse VVhich can restore consuming languishment A cordiall to comfort banishment And thou shalt find that pleasures long restraind Be farre more pleasant when they once be gaind Now sweeten all thy sorrowes with delight Teach man-hood courtshyp turne these broyles to loue The day's nere ill that hast a pleasing night Ther's other warrs in hand which thou must proue VVarrs which no blood shall shed nor sorrow moue And that sweet foe of whom thou winn'st the day Shall crowne thy tresses with tryumphant Bay And sith that tyme our better ease assures Let solace sit and rock thee on her brest And let thy sences say like Epicures Lets eate and drinke and lay vs downe to rest Like belly-Gods to surfet at the feast Our day is cleere then neuer doubt a shower Prince Edward is my sonne England my dower Possessing this inestimable Iem VVhat is there wanting to maintaine thy port Thy royall Mistresse wears a Diadem Thy high-pitchd pyneons sore beyond report I am thy VVigmore Fraunce shall be thy Court How canst thou want millions of Pearle and gold VVhen thou the Indies in thyne armes dost hold Thou art King Edward or opinion fayles Longshanks begot thee when in youth he rang'd Thou art Carnaruan thou the Prince of VVales And in thy Cradle falsely thou wert chang'd Hee Mortimer and thou hast beene estrang'd Pardon me deere what Mortimer sayd I Then should I loue him but my tongue doth lie As Fortune hath created him a King Had Nature made him valiant as thou art My soule had not beene tuch'd with torments sting Nor hadst thou now been plac'd so neere my hart But since by lot this falleth to thy part If such haue wealth as lewdly will abuse it Let those enjoy it who can better vse it Except to heauen my hopes can clime no hier Now in mine armes had I my little boy Then had I all on earth I could desier The King's as he would be God send him ioy Now with his mynions let him sport and toy His lemman Spenser and himselfe alone May sit and talke of Mistresse Gaueston VVhen first I of that wanton King was woo'd VVhy camst thou not vnto the Court of Fraunce Thou then alone should'st in my grace haue stood O Mortimer how good had been thy chaunce Then had I beene thine owne inheritance Now entrest thou by force and holds by might And so intrud'st vpon anothers right Honor that Idoll weomen so adore How many plagues hast thou in store to grieue vs VVhen in our selues we finde there yet is more Then that bare word of maiestie can giue vs VVhen of that comfort so thou canst depriue vs VVhich with our selues oft sett'st vs at debate And mak'st vs beggers in our greatest state Euen as a Trumpets liuely-sounding voyce Tryps on the winds with many a dainty trick VVhen as the speaking Ecchoes doe reioyce So much delighted with the rethorick Seeming to make the heauie dull ayre quick VVith such rare musick in a thousand kayes Vpon his hart-strings shee in consort playes On thys foundation whilst they firmely stand And as they wish so fitly all things vvent No worse their warrant then King Edwards hand VVho his owne Bow to his destruction bent The course of things to fall in true consent Giues full assurance of the happy end On which their thoughts now carefully attend And sith in payment all for currant passe And theyr proceedings were allow'd for such Although this peace against her stomack was And yet imports the Princes strength so much To carry all things cleerly without tuch VVith seeming care doth seemingly effect VVhat loue commaunds and greatnes should respect Charles waying well his lawfull Nephews right So mighty an Embassador as shee This meane to winne her grace in Edwards sight And so reclaime his vaine inconstancie VVith kindnes thus to conquer all these three VVhat loue the subiects to his Sister bore Heapes on desert to make this much the more Her expedition and thys great successe Of after-good still seeming to deuine Carnaruan should by couenant release And to the Prince the Prouinces resigne VVho dooing homage should reenter Guyne Safe-conduct sent the King to come with speed To seale in person what the Queene decreed But whilst he stood yet doubtfull what to doe The Spensers who his counsels chiefely guide Nor with theyr Soueraigne into Fraunce durst goe Nor in his absence durst at home abide His listning eares with such perswasions plyde As hee by them to stay at home is wonne And with Commission to dispatch his Sonne Now till thys howre all ioyes inwombed lay And in this howre now came they first to light Ad dayes to Months and howres vnto the day And as Ioue dyd so make a treble night And whilst delight is rauish'd with delight Swound in these sweets in pleasures pleasing paine And as they die so brought to life againe Now Clowd-borne care hence vanish for a time The Sunne ascending hath the yeere renew'd And as the Halkes in hotest Sotherne clime Their halfe-sick hopes their crazed flags haue mew'd A world of ioyes their brests doe now include The thoughts whereof thoughts quicknes doth benum In whose expression pens and tongues be dumbe In fayre Lauinium Troy is built againe And on thys shore her ruins are repard Nor Iunos hate such vigor doth retaine The Fates appeas'd who with theyr fortune squard The remnant of the shypwrackt nauie spard Though torne with tempests yet ariu'd at last May sit and sing and tell of sorrowes past If shee doe sit he leanes on Cynthias throne If shee doe walke he in the circle went If shee doe sport he must be grac'd alone If shee discourse he is the argument If shee deuise it is to his content From her proceeds the light he beares about him And yet she sets if once shee be without him Still with his eares his soueraigne Goddesse hears And with his eyes shee graciously doth see Still in her breast his secret thoughts she bears Nor can her tongue pronounce an I but vvee Thus two in one and one in two they bee And as his soule possesseth head and hart Shee's all in all and all in euery part Like as a well-tund Lute thats tucht with skill In Musicks language sweetly speaking playne VVhen euery string it selfe with sound doth fill Taking their tones and giuing them againe A diapazon heard in euery strayne So their affections set in kayes so like Still fall in consort as their humors strike Shee must returne King
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
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