Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A20834
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Peirs Gaueston Earle of Cornvvall His life, death, and fortune.
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Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.
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1594
(1594)
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STC 7214; ESTC S105408
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27,911
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79
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in our humors bred continuall warrs Or the star-ceeled heauens by fatall doome Ordaind my troubles in my Mothers wombe Some hellish hagg in thys inchaunted cup Out of the Tun of pryde this poyson drew And those hote cinders which were raked vp Into the nostrils of the Nobles blew Who now caroused to my funerall And with a vengeance I must pledge them all And now brake out that execrable rage Which long before had boyled in theyr blood Which neither tyme nor reason could asswage But like to men growne lunatick and wood My name and fame they seeke to scandelize And roote the same from all posterities They all affyrme my Mother was a Witch A filthy hagg and burnt for sorcery And I her son and fitting with her pitch Shee had bequeath'd her damned Art to mee Thys rumor in the peoples eares they ring That for my purpose I bewitcht the King They say that I conuayd beyond the Sea The Table and the tressels all of gold King Arthurs reliques kept full many a day The which to VVindsor did belong of old In whose faire margent as they did surmize Merlin ingraued many prophecies Some slaunderous tongues in spightful manner sayd That heer I liu'd in filthy sodomy And that I was King Edwards Ganemed And to this sinn hee was intic'd by mee And more to wreck their spightfull deadly teene Report the same to Isabel the Queene A Catilogue of tytles they begun With which I had the Noble men abus'd Which they auouch't I neuer durst haue done If by the King I had not been excus'd And swore that he maintaind against the state A monster which both God and man did hate They swore the King subbornd my villanie And that I was his instrument of vice The means wherby he wrought his tyranny That to his chaunce I euer cast the dice And with most bitter execrations ban The tyme in which our friendship first began Loe heer drawes on my drery dismall hower The dolefull peryod of my desteny Heer doth approch the black and vgly shower Hence flowes the Deluge of my misery Heer comes the clowde that shuts vp all my light My lowring Winter and eternall night The angry Barrons now assembled were And no man left that on my part durst stand Before the Popes pernitious Legate there They forced mee for to abiure the Land Forcing the King to further their intent By solemne oth vpon the Sacrament Vpon the holie Sacrament hee swears Although God knowes ful much against his will So ouer-come with silence sighes and teares To make a sword the which himselfe should kill And being done in doing then not long He seemes to curse his hand his hart his tongue Like to a man that walking in the grass Vpon a Serpent suddainlie doth tread Plucks back his foote and turnns away his face His couller fading pale as he were dead Thus hee the place thus he the act doth shun Lothing to see what he before had done Or as a man mistaking a receite Some death-strong poyson happely doth taste And euery howre the vigor doth awaite Apald with feare now standeth all agast Thus stands he trembling in an extasie Too sick to liue and yet too strong to die Hee takes his Crowne and spurnns it at his feet His princely robes hee doth in peeces teare Hee straight commaunds the Queene out of his sight Hee tuggs and rents his golden-tressed haire He beates his breast and sighes out pittious groans Spending the day in tears the night in moans Lyke as the furious Paladine of Fraunce Forsaken of Angelica the fayre So like a Bedlam in the fields doth daunce With shouts and clamors filling all the ayre Tearing in peeces what so ere hee caught With such a furie is the King distraught Or when the wofull Thrace-borne Hecuba Saw Troy on fire and Pryams fatall doome Her sonns all slayne her deer Polixina There sacrifized on Achilles Tombe Euen like a Bore her angry tusks doth whet Scratching and byting all that ere shee met With fearefull visions frighted in his bed Which seemes to hym a very thorny brake VVith vgly shapes which way he turnns his head And when from sleep hee euer doth awake Hee then againe with weeping mournfull cryes In griefe of soule complains hys miseries Hee wants disgesture and refrains his rest His eyes ore-watched like eclipsed sunns With bitter passions is his soule opprest And through his eyes his brayne disolued runns And after silence when with payne he speakes A suddaine sigh his speech in sunder breakes Hee starteth vp and Gaueston doth call Then stands hee still and lookes vpon the ground Then like one in an Epileps doth fall As in a Spasmo or a deadly sound Thus languishing in payne and lingering euer In the Symptoma of his pyning feuer Lyke to a flower that droupeth in a frost Or as a man in a Consumption pyning Staynd like a Cloth that hath his culler lost Or Poets-worne Lawrell when shee is declyning Or lyke a Pecock washed in the rayne Trayling adowne his starry-eyed trayne To Belgia I cross the narrow seas And in my breast a very sea of griefe Whose tide-full surges neuer giue me ease For heauen and earth hath shut vp all reliefe The ayre doth threaten vengeaunce for my crime Clotho drawes out the thred of all my time Like as that wicked Brother-killing Caine Flying the presence of his mighty God Accurst to die forbidden to be slaine A vagabond and wandring still abroad In Flaunders thus I trauell all alone Still seeking rest yet euer finding none Or as the Monarch of great Babilon Whose monstrous pride the Lord did so detest As hee out-cast him from his princely throne And in the field hee wandred like a beast Companion with the Oxe and lothly Ass Staru'd with the cold and feeding on the grass Thus doe I change my habite and my name From place to place I pass vnknowne of any But swift report so far had spred my fame I hear my life and youth controld of many The bouzing Flemings in their boistrous tongue Still talking on me as I pass along O wretched vile and miserable man Besotted so with worldly vanitie When as thy life is but a verie span Yet euerie howre full of calamitie Begot in sinn and following still the game Liuing in lust and dying oft with shame Now working means to haue intelligence By secrete Letters from my Lord the King How matters stood since I departed thence And of the tearms and state of euery thing I cast about which way I might deuise In spight of all once more to play my prize And still relying on King Edwards loue To whom before my life had been so deere Whose constancie my fortune made me proue And to my Brother Earle of Glocester And to my wife who labored tooth and naile My abiuration how shee might appeale I now embarck mee in a Flemish Hoy Disguised in the habite of a Muffe Attended thus with neyther man nor boy But on my