{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_72465/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_72465","id":"gutenberg_72465","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/72465","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Great Britain -- History -- Poetry","Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 -- Sources"],"text":"Mirror for Magistrates.\n\n\n\n\n T. Bensley, Printer,\n Bolt Court, Fleet Street, London.\n\n\n\n\n Mirror for Magistrates.\n\n EDITED BY\n\n JOSEPH HASLEWOOD.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n VOLUME II. PART II.\n\n LONDON:\n\n PRINTED FOR\n\n LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AND CO. FINSBURY SQUARE;\n\n AND\n\n LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n 1815.\n\n\n\n\n TABLE OF CONTENTS.\n\n Volume II.\n\n PART III.\n\n _The Author\u2019s Preface. Baldwin._ Page 3\n\n _To the reader. Baldwin._ 7\n\n _To the reader, ed. 1610. Niccols_ 11\n\n\n LEGENDS FROM THE CONQUEST.\n\n 53 The falle of _Robert Tresilian_ Chiefe Iustice of England, and\n other his fellowes, for misconstruing the Lawes, and expounding\n them to serue the Prince\u2019s affections. A. D. 1388. _G. Ferrers._ 13\n\n 54 How the two _Rogers_ surnamed _Mortimers_ for their sundry\n vices ended their liues vnfortunately, the one An. 1329, the\n other 1387. _Cavil._ 23\n\n 55 How Syr _Thomas_ of _Woodstocke_ Duke of Glocester, vncle to\n King _Richarde_ the seconde, was vnlawfully murdered. A. D. 1397.\n _G. Ferrers._ 33\n\n 56 How the Lord _Mowbrey_, promoted by King _Richard_ the second\n to the state of a Duke, was by him banished the Realme, in 1398,\n and after died miserablie in exile. _Sir Thomas Chaloner._ 44\n\n 57 How King _Richard_ the second was for his euill gouernance\n deposed from his seat, 1399, and murdered in prison. _G.\n Ferrers._ 56\n\n 58 How _Owen Glendour_ seduced by false prophecies tooke vpon\n him to bee Prince of Wales, and was by _Henry_ Prince of England\n chased to the mountaynes, where hee miserably died for lack of\n food. A. D. 1401. _Thomas Phaer._ 65\n\n 59 How _Henrie Percy_ Earle of Northumberland, was for his\n couetous and trayterous attempt put to death at Yorke. A. D.\n 1407. Attributed to _Baldwin._ 78\n\n 60 How _Richard Plantagenet_ Earle of Cambridge, intending the\n Kings destruction, was put to death at Southhampton. A. D. 1415.\n Attributed to _Baldwin_. 86\n\n 61 How _Thomas Montague_ Earle of Salisbury, in the middest of\n his glory was chaunceably slayne at Orleaunce with a piece of\n Ordinaunce. A. D. 1428. Attributed to _Baldwine_. 90\n\n 62 Howe King Iames the first for breaking his othes and bondes\n was by God\u2019s sufferaunce miserably murdered of his owne\n subiectes. A. D. 1437. Attributed to _Baldwin_. 103\n\n 63 How Dame _Eleanor Cobham_ Duchesse of Glocester, for\n practising of Witchcraft and sorcery suffred open penaunce, and\n after was banished the realme into the Ile of Man. _Ferrers._ 112\n\n 64 How _Humfrey Plantagenet_ Duke of Glocester, Protector of\n England, during the minority of his nephue King _Henry_ the sixt,\n commonly called the good Duke, by practise of enemyes was brought\n to confusion. _Ferrers._ 128\n\n 65 How Lord _William de la Pole_ Duke of Suffolke, was worthely\n banished for abusing his King, and causing the destruction of the\n good Duke _Humfrey_. A. D. 1450. _Baldwin._ 147\n\n 66 How _Iacke Cade_ naming himselfe _Mortimer_, trayterously\n rebelling against his King, was for his treasons and cruell\n doinges worthily punished. A. D. 1450. _Baldwin._ 157\n\n 67 The tragedye of _Edmund_ Duke of Somerset, slayne in the first\n battayle at St. Albons, in the 32. yeare of _Henry_ the sixt. A.\n D. 1454. _Ferrers._ 168\n\n 68 Howe _Richarde Plantagenet_ Duke of York, was slayn through\n his ouer rash boldnesse, and his sonne the Earle of Rutland for\n his lacke of valiaunce. A. D. 1460. 184\n\n 69 How the Lorde _Clyfford_ for his straunge and abhominable\n cruelty, came to as straunge and sodayn a death. A. D. 1461.\n Attributed to _Baldwin_. 195\n\n 70 The infamovs end of Lord _Tiptoft_ Earle of Worcester, for\n cruelly executing his Prince\u2019s butcherly commaundements. A. D.\n 1470. Attributed to _Baldwin_. 201\n\n 71 How Sir _Richard Neuill_ Earle of Warwicke, and his brother\n _Iohn_, Lord Marquise _Montacute_, through their too much\n boldnesse were slaine at Barnet. A. D. 1471. Attributed to\n _Baldwin_. 210\n\n 72 How King _Henry_ the sixte a vertuous Prince, was after many\n other miseries cruelly murdered in the Tower of London. A. D.\n 1471. Attributed to _Baldwin_. 217\n\n 73 How _George Plantagenet_ third sonne of the Duke of Yorke, was\n by his brother King _Edward_ wrongfully imprisoned, and by his\n brother _Richard_ miserably murdered. A. D. 1478. Attributed to\n _Baldwin_. 226\n\n 74 How King _Edward_ the fourth through his surfeting &\n vntemperate life, sodaynly dyed in the middest of his prosperity.\n A. D. 1483. _Skelton._ 244\n\n 75 How Syr _Anthony Wooduile_ Lord Riuers and Scales, Gouernour\n of Prince _Edward_, was with his nephue Lord _Richard Gray_ and\n others causelesse imprisoned, and cruelly murthered. A. D. 1483.\n Attributed to _Baldwin_. 249\n\n 76 How the Lord _Hastings_ was betraied by trusting too much to\n his euill counsellour _Catesby_, and villanously murdered in\n the Tower of London by _Richard_ Duke of Glocester. A. D. 1483.\n _Dolman._ 275\n\n MAYSTER SACKUILLE\u2019S INDUCTION. 309\n\n 77 The complaynt of _Henry_ Duke of Buckingham. _Sackville._ 333\n\n 78 How _Colingbourne_ was cruelly executed for making a foolish\n Rime. Attributed to _Baldwin_. 366\n\n 79 How _Richarde Plantagenet_ Duke of Glocester murdered his\n brother\u2019s children, vsurping the crowne, and in the third yeare\n of his raigne was most worthely depriued of life and kingdome, in\n Bosworth plaine, by _Henry_ Earle of Richmond after called King\n _Henry_ the VII. A. D. 1485. _Segar._ 381\n\n 80 The wilfvll fall of the Blackesmith, and the foolishe end of\n the Lorde _Audley_. A. D. 1496. _Cavill._ 396\n\n 81 How the valiant Knight Sir _Nicholas Burdet_, Chiefe Butler of\n Normandy, was slayne at Pontoise. A. D. 1441. _Higgins._ 418\n\n 82 The Lamentation of King _Iames_ the fourth, King of Scots,\n slayne at Brampton in the fifthe yeare of King _Henry_ the eight.\n A. D. 1513. 442\n\n 83 The Bataile of Brampton, or Floddon fielde, faught in the\n yeare of our Redeemer 1513, and in the fifth yeare of the raygne\n of that victorious prince King _Henry_ the eyght. _Dingley._ 449\n\n 84 How _Shore\u2019s_ wife, King _Edward_ the fourth\u2019s Concubine, was\n by King _Richard_ despoyled of her goods, and forced to doe open\n penaunce. _Churchyard._ 461\n\n 85 How _Thomas Wolsey_ did arise vnto great authority and\n gouernment, his maner of life, pompe and dignitie, & how hee\n fell downe into great disgrace, and was arested of high treason.\n _Churchyard._ 484\n\n 86 How the Lord _Cromwell_ exalted from meane estate, was after\n by the enuie of the Bishop of Winchester and other his complices\n brought to vntimely end. A. D. 1540. _Drayton._ 502\n\n\n PART IV.\n\n (_The remainder of the volume by Richard Niccols._)\n\n _Dedicatory Sonnet to the Earl of Nottingham._ 543\n\n _To the reader._ 544\n\n _The Induction._ 546\n\n 87 The famovs life and death of King _Arthur_. 553\n\n 88 The life and death of King _Edmvnd_ svrnamed _Ironside_. 583\n\n 89 The lamentable life and death of Prince _Alfred_ brother to\n King _Edmund Ironside_. 605\n\n 90 The treacherous life and infamovs death of _Godwin_ Earle of\n Kent. 622\n\n 91 The life and death of _Robert_ svrnamed _Curthose_ Duke of\n Normandie. 639\n\n 92 The memorable life and death of King _Richard_ the first,\n surnamed _C\u0153ur de Lion_. 673\n\n 93 The vnfortvnate life and death of King _Iohn_. 699\n\n 94 The wofvll life and death of King _Edward_ the second. 726\n\n 95 The lamentable lives and deaths of the two yong Princes,\n _Edward_ the fifth and his brother _Richard_ Duke of York. 766\n\n 96 The tragicall life and death of King _Richard_ the third. 785\n\n 97 The Poem annexed called England\u2019s _Eliza_. 813\n\n\n PART V.\n\n _Dedicatory sonnet to Lady Elizabeth Clere._ 817\n\n _Advertisement to the Reader._ 818\n\n _The Induction._ 819\n\n 98 Englands _Eliza_, or the victoriovs and trivmphant reigne of\n that virgin Empresse of sacred memorie, _Elizabeth_ Queene of\n England, France and Ireland &c. 828\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n [THE\n\n Mirrour for Magistrates,\n\n AS] A\n\n WINTER\n\n NIGHT\u2019S\n\n _VISION_:\n\n Being an addition of svch Princes especially\n _famous, who were exempted in the_\n former Historie.\n\n PART IV.\n\n _By_ RICHARD NICCOLS,\n\n Oxon. Mag. Hall.\n\n From the edition imprinted by Felix\n Kyngston, 1610.\n]\n\n\n To the Right Honorable, the Lord Charles\n Howard, Earle of Notingham, Baron of\n Effingham, Knight of the noble\n Order of the Garter, Lord high\n Admirall of England, Ireland\n and Wales, &c. one of\n his Maiestie\u2019s most\n Honorable priuie\n Counsell.\n\n As once that doue (true honor\u2019s aged lord)\n Houering with wearied wings about your arke,\n When Cadiz towers did fal beneath your sword,\n To rest her selfe did single out that barke:\n So my meeke muse, from all that conquering rout,\n Conducted through the sea\u2019s wilde wildernes\n By your great selfe, to graue their names about\n Th\u2019Iberian pillars of Joue\u2019s Hercules:\n Most humblie craues your lordly lions aid\n Gainst monster enuie, while she tels her storie\n Of Britaine princes, and that royall maid,\n In whose chaste hymne her _Clio_ sings your glorie:\n Which if (great lord) you grant, my muse shall frame\n Mirrours more worthie your renowned name.\n\n Your Honor\u2019s euer most humblie\n deuoted,\n RICHARD NICOLS.\n\n\n\n\n TO THE READER.\n\n\nCvrteous Reader, before I enter into the discourse of what I haue\nwritten, I will acquaint you with the causes why I haue written. Hauing\nspent some truant houres in the study of this art, and willing to\nimploy my pen to the benefit of mine owne studies, and the profit and\npleasure of others, I chanced in reading that worthy work, intituled,\n_The Mirrour for Magistrates_, to coniecture, if I should vndertake\nthat imperfect historie, that not only experience, the mother of\nprudence, would furnish my priuate studies with better iudgement; but\nalso that I could not better benefit others, by offering them a taste\nof the vnsauourie fruits of my labours; then by giuing them paternes\nto shun vice and follow vertue: in this coniecture my voluntarie will,\nnot to do nothing, did set such edge vpon my desire, and the presidents\nof diuers learned, yea, some noble personages, pen-men of that worke,\ngaue me such encouragement, that though I wanted not iudgement to know,\nthat I should want skill to compasse it; yet that want of skil, being\nsupplied with good wil to do wel, I haue collected the liues of ten\nfamous princes, worthie mirrours, omitted in the former part of this\nworke: which I present not in their proper places, as I did purpose,\nbut as a part of themselues with dependancie vpon an Induction, that\nthe reader may obserue that method of arguments before euery life,\nwhich I did intend to haue continued through the whole worke, if time\nand mine owne affaires would haue suffered me to proceed, but being\ncalled away by other employments, I must of force leaue it either\nvnto those, whose good opinion of so worthie an historie, may induce\ntheir endeuors towards the perfecting of the same, or vntil I shal\nfind occasion hereafter to continue that, now almost finished, which I\nhaue left vnaccomplished; of those ten, which I haue penned, the last,\nthough it were written before in the former part, yet for that the\nmatter and stile thereof were generally disliked of M. _Ferrers_, M.\n_Baldwine_, and others: and also for that many principall occurrents\nin the same were exempted, I haue written againe, placing it in his\norder, being the last of the ten. In the handling of which, not taking\na poeticall licence to fashion all things after mine owne fancie, but\nlimiting my selfe within the bounds of an historicall writer, I haue\nfollowed those authors, who in the censure of our best iudgements\nare the most authenticall. For the verse, I haue chosen the fourth\nproportion, which is the stanza of seuen, preferring it before the\nfift, which is the staffe of eight, because it is chiefly vsed of our\nancient and best historicall poets; and though I confesse that of eight\nto hold better band, yet is it more tedious to a writer, being it binds\nhim to the band of two foures intertangled, which if he obserue not, it\nis no huitaine or staffe of eight, but fals into the first proportion,\nmaking two quadreins. To the learned I only write, in whom is my\nchiefest hope, for that they be learned, a cause sufficient not to\ndoubt any enuious construction, being a vice not proper to their good\neducation: whom if I haue pleasured, I craue but their good word for my\ngood will; if otherwise, their pardon for my paines. Farewell.\n\n\n\n\n THE INDVCTION.\n\n\n My muse, that mongst meane birds whilome, did waue her flaggie wing,\n And cuckow-like of _Castae\u2019s_ wrongs, in rustick tunes did sing,\n Now with the morne\u2019s cloud climing lark must mount a pitch more hie,\n And like Ioue\u2019s bird with stedfast lookes outbraue the sunne\u2019s\n bright eie:\n Yea she, that whilome begger-like her beggers ape did sing,\n Which iniur\u2019d by the guilt of time to light she durst not bring:\n In stately stile tragedian-like with sacred furie fed,\n Must now record the tragicke deeds of great _Her\u00f6es_ dead,\n Vouchsafe then thou great king of heau\u2019n, the heau\u2019nly drops t\u2019infuse\n Of sacred iuyce into my pen, giue strength vnto my muse\n To mount aloft with powerfull wings, and let her voice be strong,\n That she may smite the golden starres with sound of her great song:\n When loue-borne Ph\u0153bus fierie steeds about the world had bin,\n And wearied with their yearely taske, had taken vp their inne\n Farre in the south, when cold had nipt the hawthorne\u2019s rugged rinde,\n And liuely sap of summer sweet, from blast of blustring winde\n Had sunken downe into the roote, whose thornie browes besprent\n With frostie dew, did hang their heads, and summer\u2019s losse lament;\n My limbes benumb\u2019d with vnkind cold, my life-blood waxing chill,\n As was my wont I walked forth to ease me of such ill:\n But when I came in fields abroad, and view\u2019d the wastefull spight\n Of wrathfull winter, grieu\u2019d I was to see so sad a sight:\n The shadie woods, in which the birds to build their neasts were seene,\n Whose wauing heads in aire shot vp were crown\u2019d with youthfull greene:\n Now clad in coate of motlie hue did maske in poore array,\n Rough Boreas with his blustering blasts had blowen their leaues away:\n In stead of blossomes on the boughes, the spring whilome begun,\n Which through the leaues did seeme to laugh vpon the summer\u2019s sunne,\n Now nought but hoarie frost was seene, each branch teares downe did\n send,\n Whose dewie drops on ysiccles vpon each bough depend:\n The mistresse of the woods quaint quire, the warbling Philomele,\n That wont to rauish with delight, th\u2019inhabitants, that dwell\n About the greene wood side, forgot the layes she sung before,\n For griefe of summer\u2019s golden losse she now could sing no more:\n And all the quire that wont with her to beare a part and sing\n Concordant discords in sweet straine for welcome of the spring,\n Sate silent on the frostie bow, and shuddering all for cold,\n Did shroud the head beneath the wing, the day was waxed old,\n None but the red-brest and the wren did sing the euen away,\n And that in notes of sad record for summer\u2019s late decay:\n The field, which whilome _Ceres_ crown\u2019d with golden eares of corne,\n And all the pasture-springing meades, which _Pales_ did adorne,\n Lookt pale for woe, the winterie snow had couered all their greene,\n Nought else vpon the grasselesse ground, but winter\u2019s waste was seene:\n The shepheard\u2019s feeble flocke pent vp within the bounded fold,\n So faint for food, that scarce their feete their bodies could vphold,\n Did hang the head with heauie cheare, as they would learne to mourne\n The thrall in which they now did liue, by shepheard left forlorne:\n All sweet delight of summer past, cold winter\u2019s breath had blasted,\n The sunne in heau\u2019n shone pale on earth to see her wombe so wasted:\n All which, as I grieu\u2019d at such sight, the fields alone did range,\n Did teach me know all things on earth were subiect vnto change:\n How fond (me thought) were mortall men, the trustlesse stay to trust,\n Of things on earth, since heere on earth all things returne to dust?\n Who so in youth doth boast of strength, me thought the loftie oake\n Would teach him that his strength must vade, when age begins to yoke\n His youthfull necke, euen by it selfe, his leauie lockes being shed,\n And branched armes shrunke vp with frost, as if they had been dead:\n The louely lillie, that faire flower for beautie past compare,\n Whom winter\u2019s cold keene breath had kill\u2019d, and blasted all her faire,\n Might teach the fairest vnder heau\u2019n, that beautie\u2019s freshest greene\n When spring of youth is spent, will vade, as it had neuer been;\n The barren fields, which whilome flower\u2019d as they would neuer fade,\n Inricht with summer\u2019s golden gifts, which now been all decay\u2019d,\n Did shew in state there was no trust, in wealth no certaine stay,\n One stormie blast of frowning chance could blow them all away;\n Out of the yeares alternate course this lesson I did con,\n In things on earth of most auaile assurance there was none:\n But fancie feeding on these thoughts, as I alone did wend,\n The clocke did strike, whose chime did tell the day was at an end;\n The golden sunne, daies guide, was gone, and in his purple bed\n Had laid him downe, the heau\u2019ns about their azure curtaines spread,\n And all the tapers lighted were, as t\u2019were the watch to keepe,\n Lest past her houre night should vsurpe, while he secure did sleepe;\n Then clad in cloake of mistie fogges the darke night vp did come,\n And with grim grislie looke did seeme to bid me get me home;\n Home was I led, not as before with solace from the field,\n The wofull waste of summer past had all my pleasure spill\u2019d:\n When home I came, nipt with sharpe cold of Boreas bitter aire,\n After repast to my warme bed forthwith I made repaire,\n Where, for the nights were tedious growen, and I disturb\u2019d in mind\n With thoughts of that daies obiect seene, not vnto sleepe inclin\u2019d,\n I vp did sit, my backe behind the pillow soft did stay,\n And call\u2019d for light, with booke in hand to passe the time away;\n Of which each line which I did reade, in nature did agree\n With that true vse of things which I the day before did see\n A Mirrour hight for Magistrates, for title it did beare,\n In which by painfull pens, the fals of princes written were:\n There, as in glasse, I did behold, what day before did show,\n That beautie, strength, wealth, world\u2019s vaine pompe, and all to\n dust do go:\n There did I see triumphant death beneath his feet tread downe\n The state of kings, the purple robe, the scepter and the crowne:\n Without respect with deadly dart all princes he did strike,\n The vertuous and the vicious prince to him been both alike:\n Nought else they leaue vntoucht of death except a vertuous name,\n Which dies, if that the sacred nine eternize not the same:\n Why then (ye thrice three borne of Ioue) why then be ye despis\u2019d?\n Is vertue dead? hath daintie ease in her soft armes surpris\u2019d\n The manhood of the elder world? hath rust of time deuour\u2019d\n Th\u2019 _Her\u00f6e\u2019s_ stocke that on your heads such golden blessings showr\u2019d?\n This silent night, when all things lie in lap of sweet repose,\n Ye only wake, the powres of sleepe your eyes do neuer close,\n To shew the sempiternitie, to which their names ye raise\n On wings of your immortall verse that truly merit praise:\n But where\u2019s the due of your desert, or where your learning\u2019s meed?\n Not only now the baser sprite, whom dunghill dust doth breed,\n But they that boast themselues to be in honor\u2019s bosome borne,\n Disdaine your wisdome, and do hold your sectaries in scorne:\n No maruell then, me thought, it was, that in this booke I read,\n So many a prince I found exempt, as if their names been dead,\n Who for desert amongst the best a place might iustly claime:\n But who can put on any spirit to memorize the name\n Of any dead, whose thanklesse race t\u2019whom learning shapes the leg\n In humble wise, yet in contempt bids learned wits go beg?\n As thus in bed with booke in hand I sate contemplating,\n The humorous night was waxed olde, still silence husht each thing,\n The clocke chim\u2019d twelue, to which as I with listning eares attend,\n As signes of fraile mortalitie all things I apprehend;\n The daylight past, as life I deeme, the night as death to come,\n The clocke that chim\u2019d, death\u2019s fatall knell, that call\u2019d me to\n my doome,\n Still silence rest from worldly cares, my bed the graue I thinke,\n In which, with heart to heau\u2019n vp-lift, at length I downe did sinke:\n Where after still repose when as thin vapors had restrain\u2019d\n The mouing powers of common sense, and sleepe each sense enchain\u2019d,\n Whether the watchfull fantasie did now in sleepe restore\n The species of things sensible, which I had seene before:\n And so some dreame it only was, which I intend to tell,\n Or vision sent I\u2019le not discusse, to me it thus befell:\n A sudden sound of trumpe I heard, whose blast so loud was blowne,\n That in a trance I senselesse lay, fraile mortall there was none\n That heard such sound, could sense retaine: my chamber wals did shake,\n Vp flew the doores, a voice I heard, which thus distinctly spake:\n \u201cAwake from sleepe, lift vp thy head, and be no whit dismai\u2019d,\n I serue the deities of heau\u2019n, their hests must be obei\u2019d,\n And now am sent from her that keepes the store-house of the mind:\n The mother of the muses nine, for thee she hath assign\u2019d\n For her designe, the night to come in sleepe thou must not spend:\n Prepare thy selfe, that gainst she come, her will thou maist attend.\u201d\n As to these words I listning lay, and had resumed spright,\n I boldly looked round about, and loe, there stood in sight\n True fame, the trumpeter of heau\u2019n, that doth desire inflame\n To glorious deeds, and by her power eternifies the name:\n A golden trumpe her right hand held, which when she list to sound,\n Can smite the starres of heau\u2019n, and bring the dead from vnder ground:\n Vpon her head a chaplet stood of neuer vading greene,\n Which honor gaue, to giue to them that fauour\u2019d of her been:\n Her wings were white as snow, with which she compast heau\u2019n and earth\n With names of such, whom honor did renowne for deeds of worth:\n As I beheld her princely port, yet trembling all for feare,\n A sound of heau\u2019nly harmony did pierce my pleased eare,\n In rapture of whose sweet delight, as I did rauisht lie,\n The goddesse dread whom fame forespoke did stand before mine eie,\n The ladie of mount Helicon, the great Pierian dame,\n From whom the learned sisters nine deriue their birth and name,\n In golden garments clad she was, which time can neuer weare,\n Nor fretting moth consume the same, which did embroydered beare\n The acts of old _Her\u00f6es_ dead, set downe in stately verse,\n Which sitting by the horse-foot spring, Ioue\u2019s daughters did rehearse:\n Fiue damsels did attend on her, who with such wondrous skill\n Do in their seuerall functions worke, to serue their ladie\u2019s will,\n That what she seekes on earth, to see, to heare, smell, taste or touch,\n They can present the same with speed, their power and skill are such:\n As in amazement at such sight I in my bed did lie,\n She thus bespake: \u201cI am,\u201d quoth she, \u201cthe ladie Memorie,\n Ioue\u2019s welbelou\u2019d Mnemosyne, that keepes the wealthie store\n Of time\u2019s rich treasure, where the deeds that haue been done of yore\n I do record, and when in bookes I chance to find the fame\n Of any after death decai\u2019d, I do reuiue the same:\n Turning the volume large of late, in which my _Clio_ sings\n The deeds of worthie Britaines dead, I find that many kings\n Exempted are, whose noble acts deserue eternitie,\n And mongst our Mirrours challenge place for all posteritie:\n For which, my station I haue left, and now am come to thee,\n This night thou must abandon sleepe, my pen-man thou must bee.\u201d\n To this said I: \u201cO goddesse great, the taske thou dost impose\n Exceeds the compasse of my skill, t\u2019is fitter farre for those,\n Whose pens sweet nectar do distill, to whom the power is giuen\n Vpon their winged verse to rap their readers vp to heau\u2019n:\n The pinions of my humble muse be all too weake to flie\n So large a flight; theirs be this taske that loue to soare on high:\n But how can they such taske vp-take, that in a stately straine\n Haue rais\u2019d the dead out of the dust; yet after all their paine,\n When their sweet muse in vertue\u2019s praise hath powred out their store,\n Are still despis\u2019d and doom\u2019d for aye with vertue to be poore.\u201d\n To this, \u201calas,\u201d quoth Memorie, \u201cit grieues me to behold\n The learned wits left all forlorne, t\u2019whom whilome it was told\n M\u00e6cenas was reuiu\u2019d againe: yet grieue I more to see\n The loathed lozell to prophane that sacred mysterie:\n Each vulgar wit, that what it is, could neuer yet define,\n In ragged rimes with lips profane, will call the learned nine\n To helpe him vtter forth the spawne of his vnfruitfull braine,\n Which makes our peerelesse poesie to be in such disdaine,\n That now it skils not whether Pan do pipe, or Ph\u0153bus play,\n Tom Tinkar makes best harmonie to passe the time away:\n For this I grieue, for this the seed of Ioue are held in scorne,\n Yet not for this our worthies dead are to be left forlorne:\n For so no future age should know the truth of things forepast,\n The names of their forefathers dead would in the dust be cast:\n Then do not thou thy helpe denie, I will conduct thy pen,\n And fame shall summon vp the ghosts of all those worthie men,\n That mongst our Mirrours are not found, that each one orderly\n May come to thee, to tell the truth of his sad tragedie.\u201d\n Thus hauing said, she tooke the booke from vnderneath my head,\n And turning ore the leaues, at last, she thus began to reade.\n\n\n\n\n THE FAMOVS LIFE AND\n\n _Death of King Arthvr_.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n The first I find exempted in our storie\n Is noble _Arthur_, Albion\u2019s ancient glorie,\n Who heere at home subdues the Saxon kings:\n Then forren nations in subiection brings,\n The Roman host with _Lucius_ for their guide\n To his victorious sword do stoope their pride:\n But home-bred broiles call backe the conquering king,\n Warres thunder 'bout the Britaine coasts doth ring,\n _Gawin\u2019s_ firme loyaltie at his last breath,\n _Arthur\u2019s_ last conquest, wounds and timelesse death,\n The truth of which, that we may heare, let fame\n Summon his ghost to come and tell the same.\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n Fame sounds her trumpe, king _Arthur_ doth ascend\n Tels _Mordred\u2019s_ treason, death, and his owne end.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n No age hath bin, since nature first began\n To worke Ioue\u2019s wonders, but hath left behind\n Some deeds of praise for Mirrours vnto man,\n Which more then threatful lawes in men inclind,\n To tread the paths of praise excites the mind,\n Mirrours tie thoughts to vertues due respects,\n Examples hasten deeds to good effects.\n\n 2.\n\n 'Mongst whom, that I my storie so renown\u2019d\n May for a Mirrour to the world commend,\n Summon\u2019d the first by fame\u2019s shrill trumpets sound:\n Loe, I am come on earth to find a friend,\n Who his assistance vnto me may lend,\n And with his pen paint out my historie\n A perfect Mirrour of true maiestie.\n\n 3.\n\n In which the truth of my corrupted storie,\n Defac\u2019d by fleeting time\u2019s inconstant pen\n I will declare, nor to aduance my glorie\n Will I present vnto the view of men\n Ought, but the scope of what the truth hath ben:\n Meane time thou pen-man of Mnemosynie,\n Giue heedfull eare vnto my tragedie.\n\n 4.\n\n As from aire-threatning tops of cedars tall\n The leaues, that whilome were so fresh and greene,\n In healthlesse autumne to the ground do fall,\n And others in their roomes at spring are seene:\n So proudest states amongst the states of men\n Now mount the loftie top of fortune\u2019s wheele,\n Now fall againe, now firmely stand, now reele.\n\n 5.\n\n Foure times the state of this same noble Ile\n Hath changed been by froward fate\u2019s decree,\n And on foure nations fortune\u2019s front did smile,\n Gracing thir high attempts with victorie\n Ouer this empire of Great Britanie:\n Yet none but one the scepter long did sway,\n Whose conquering name endures vntill this day.\n\n 6.\n\n First the proud Roman _C\u00e6sar_ did oppresse\n This land with tributarie seruitude:\n Next those two Saxon brethren heauen did blesse,\n Who in our Brittish blood their blades imbru\u2019d,\n And to their lordly will this land subdu\u2019d:\n Thirdly the Dane did heere long time remaine,\n And lastly Normans ouer vs did raigne.\n\n 7.\n\n Thus seest thou fortune\u2019s vnimpeached force,\n And what it hath been in our Britaine state:\n By this thou seest her wheeles inconstant course,\n And how on earth nor prince, nor potentate,\n Can long withstand her ruine-thirsting hate,\n Which my true storie\u2019s sad catastrophe\n Vnto the sonnes of men can testifie.\n\n 8.\n\n I am that _Arthur_, who on honor\u2019s wing\n Did mount fame\u2019s palace 'mongst the worthies nine\n Fourth from false _Vortigerne_ th\u2019vsurping king:\n Who, that he might with strong allies combine\n His shaken state, which then began decline,\n Wretch that he was into this land did bring\n The Saxons with hight _Hengist_ their false king.\n\n 9.\n\n The sonne I was of _Vter_ that stout knight,\n _Pendragon_ called for his policie,\n Not in ignoble birth brought forth to light,\n Though foes false imputation vilifie\n My royall birth with taint of bastardie:\n But in true wedlocke\u2019s bands a noble dame\n Bore me, the fruit of loue without defame.\n\n 10.\n\n Whose former husband _Goilen_, that proud duke,\n At Duuilioc in fight my sire strooke dead:\n And 'mongst his spoiles _Igren_ the faire he tooke,\n With whom he did ascend loue\u2019s amorous bed\n And lest the fruit of his delight new bred\n The time might turne to shame in lawlesse birth,\n He took the dame to wife, who brought me forth.\n\n 11.\n\n By peeres consent I in my youth began\n Vpon the throne the supreame sway to beare:\n And at that time against the boldest man,\n That breath\u2019d on earth my spirit did not feare,\n In single fight the combatant t\u2019appeare,\n Skilfull I was in knowledge of all fights,\n That then was vsed amongst martiall knights.\n\n 12.\n\n And at that time my close-neere fighting men,\n The frame of euery bloodie fight to know,\n In martiall feates, haue exercised been,\n And euery one would \u2019gainst the forren foe,\n With emulation striue their deeds to show,\n In courts where kings, adore _Bellonae\u2019s_ shrine,\n There the bright blaze of chiualrie will shine.\n\n 13.\n\n Vpon the mind, whose glorie-thirsting heart,\n By deedes of armes did at true honor aime,\n Such edge I set, that from each forren part,\n The brood of Mars to Britaine\u2019s _Arthur_ came,\n Of him to purchase the reward of fame:\n And take that order, that I then did found,\n Which till this day men call the table round.\n\n 14.\n\n Vpon this table\u2019s superficiall part\n Statutes ingrauen were by my decree,\n Vnto the which each man of valiant hart,\n That of this famous fellowship would bee\n At Camelot by oath did first agree,\n And call\u2019d they were amongst our chiualrie\n Armes, seuen religious deeds of charitie.\n\n 15.\n\n But where is now this honor\u2019d dignitie,\n That wont to be the care of noble kind?\n Or is it dead, or will nobilitie\n Let that, which only was to it assign\u2019d,\n Be now polluted by the baser mind?\n Alas the while, that once the best reward\n To vertuous deeds is now of no regard.\n\n 16.\n\n No golden churle, no elbow-vanting Iacke,\n No peasant base, nor borne of dunghill mould,\n Could find such treasure in his pedler\u2019s packe\n To purchase that, which fame on high did hold\n For true desart, aboue the reach of gold:\n This order then dame vertue kept in store\n For such, as did her sacred selfe adore.\n\n 17.\n\n In this new flourish of my flowring spring,\n When honor\u2019s hopefull buds appear\u2019d in mee,\n And promis\u2019d goodly fruit in time to bring,\n My forward thoughts being set on fier, to free\n My natiue land from Saxon tyrannie:\n With phantasie still working \u2019gainst the foe,\n In sleepe this spectacle to me did show.\n\n 18.\n\n As I (me thought) did sit on royall throne\n With peeres about me set, a ladie faire\n In presence came and making pitious mone,\n Tearing the tresses of her golden haire,\n And wringing both her hands, as if despaire\n Had her bereft of hope her griefe to show,\n With teares did vtter forth these words of woe\n\n 19.\n\n \u201cBehold,\u201d quoth she, \u201cbehold me wretched wight,\n The forlorne ladie of this noble Ile,\n From towring state cast downe by foes despight,\n And of an empresse, which I was ere while,\n Of Saxon yoke now made a subiect vile:\n What bootes it what I was, sith now I am\n The scorne of fortune and the Briton\u2019s shame?\n\n 20.\n\n O, noble prince, vnsheath thy conquering blade\n And saue that little, which is left to mee,\n Left not for aye my antient glorie vade,\n Nor let me subiect liue, as thus you see,\n To pride of barbarous foes, but set me free:\u201d\n Thus ended she her plaint, and in sad plight\n With piteous lookes departed from my sight.\n\n 21.\n\n The phantasie presenting euerie howre\n Th\u2019apperance of such thoughts did so excite\n My furie \u2019gainst the foe, that all my powre\n I muster\u2019d for the field, and _Howel_, hight\n Of litle Brittaine prince, a valiant knight,\n Allide to me by blood, did crosse the maine\n To purchase honor with his martiall traine.\n\n 22.\n\n Here could I sing the deeds of warre to thee,\n Whereby my famous conquests thou should know,\n How heauen did grace me with such victorie,\n That in twelue battailes I did ouerthrow\n The mightie forces of my warlike foe;\n And by my valor, how I did expell\n Those Saxon foes, which here long time did dwell.\n\n 23.\n\n Hight _Colgrim_ greatest amongst Saxon kings\n I first subdu\u2019d with honour\u2019d victorie,\n But happie he vpon the wind-like wings\n Of hastie speed to saue himselfe did flie\n Ouer the seas broad backe to Germanie:\n Yet could he not escape vntimely death,\n But here in Britaine breath\u2019d he his last breath.\n\n 24.\n\n Vnto his friends, when he in safetie came,\n He could not shun th\u2019edict of destinie:\n But backt by them he proudly did proclame\n T\u2019inferre swift vengeance on our Britannie,\n If he were not restor\u2019d to dignitie:\n Which I disdain\u2019d and did prepare for fight:\n Because to that he claim\u2019d he had no right.\n\n 25.\n\n And in a faire field by those bathes apart,\n Which _Bladud_ sometimes king of Britanie\n Had founded by the depth of powerfull art,\n My tents I pight: for there did fates decree,\n That great king _Colgrim\u2019s_ ouerthrow should bee:\n Whose mightie force my folke at first did dread,\n Which by three kings was in Battalia led.\n\n 26.\n\n For first did _Bladulf_ brother to this king,\n Conduct the vaunt gard for this valiancie,\n Next _Chelderick_ vnto the field did bring\n His Germaine powers, the strokes of death to trie,\n Who was a mightie prince in Germanie,\n And in the rereward _Colgrim\u2019s_ selfe did lead\n The Picts to fight, a people full of dread.\n\n 27.\n\n The battailes ioin\u2019d, each aduerse part opposde\n Their strength to strength, the aire with dreadfull sound\n Of souldier\u2019s shouts did echo as they closde,\n And each one equallie gaue wound for wound,\n Till with the foes fresh strength, which did abound,\n My men opprest to flight began to fall,\n Whom thus with mouing words I did recall.\n\n 28.\n\n \u201cYee emptie harted sonnes of _Brute_,\u201d quoth I,\n \u201cNot worthie valiant _Brutus_ farre-spred name,\n What great defame of your big formes will flie\n Throughout this world\u2019s whole round, if this great shame\n Of shamefull flight, yee doe not streight reclaime?\n Where will ye boldly fight and scorne recoile,\n If not in fight for your owne natiue soyle?\n\n 29.\n\n Are these th\u2019effects of those same glorious words,\n With which of late your tongues did oft abound,\n Saying one hundred with their powerfull swords\n A thousand hartlesse foemen should confound,\n To your owne shame, alas, this shall redown\u2019d,\n Vnlesse with speed ye turne couragious hed,\n And make them flie from whom yee lately fled.\u201d\n\n 30.\n\n All th\u2019host applauding my high valiancie\n With deepe impression of my words being driuen,\n Did break into the midst of th\u2019enemie,\n Where cuffe for cuffe on either side was giuen,\n The noise of which flew ecchoing vp to heauen,\n And with the thunder claps of clashing armes\n Made aire to sigh with sound of humane armes.\n\n 31.\n\n The skirmish burn\u2019d, both parts did equall beare\n Their heads aloft in this daye\u2019s bloodie fight,\n All stood it out, none stoopt to seruile feare,\n Their swords made mutuall wounds, and in their sight\n Their friends each where in field lay reft of light:\n The earth made drunke with blood did then abound,\n With fruites of death thick strow\u2019d vpon the ground.\n\n 32.\n\n But when the trampling steedes of heauen\u2019s bright sun\n Fell to the seas and left Olympus steepe,\n And when the king of flames began to run\n His golden head into the wauie deep,\n When out of east bright Venus gan to peep,\n Our strength increast, which conquest did diuine,\n Our foes shrunke back, their valor did decline.\n\n 33.\n\n For when king _Colgrim_ by my launce strook dead,\n And _Bladuff_ by my power cast downe as low,\n With their gigantike bulkes the earth did spread,\n The foes with one consent their backes did show,\n To saue each other in that common woe:\n With whom hight _Cheldrike_ fled, who for the spoile\n Of this our land had left his natiue soile.\n\n 34.\n\n Who being shrouded with the night\u2019s black wing,\n Trusting that she would his designements hide,\n Tooke towards the marrin strand, in hope to bring\n His folk disperst, in darknesse vndescride,\n Vnto his ships, which then at shore did ride:\n But death betwixt them and their nauie stood,\n Our natiue earth drunk vp their stranger blood.\n\n 35.\n\n The stout duke _Cador_, that illustrate knight,\n Pursu\u2019d the flier till the rising sun\n Descride the foes, who turning from their flight,\n Both parts stood firme, the fight afresh begun:\n But _Cheldrik_ lost, the conquest _Cador_ wonne,\n Whose spoilfull sword did spare no foes in death,\n For _Cheldrick\u2019s_ self did there expire his breath.\n\n 36.\n\n Meane time to rescue that bold Britaine king,\n Prince _Howell_, king of little Britanie,\n Who ore the gulfie flood his folke did bring,\n T\u2019assist vs gainst our common enemie:\n Towards Scotland\u2019s bounds wee marched speedilie,\n Where gainst the barbarous Picts he was the barre,\n While gainst the Saxon we did wage the warre.\n\n 37.\n\n But he vnable to sustaine their force,\n Which th\u2019Irish _Guillamore_, th\u2019assistant king,\n In person did support with foote and horse,\n Of whose alarmes the countrie round did ring,\n Did send to vs requiring vs to bring\n Our powers, with expedition to suppresse\n The foe\u2019s haut pride, and succour his distresse.\n\n 38.\n\n Of which when I did heare, as from the skie\n A tempest stooping on the deepe\u2019s profound,\n Hurles waues on waues in heapes, and makes them flie\n Before his rage, so with the horrid sound\n Of dreadfull warre into the Pictish bound\n I entred with my host, and in the way\n For fire and sword made all the passage pray.\n\n 39.\n\n The foe\u2019s stout pride we did in field subdue,\n And _Gwillamore_, that did escape the fight,\n To his owne kingdome\u2019s bounds we did pursue,\n Where we did bring him to his heart\u2019s despight,\n Vpon his knees by warre\u2019s impulsiue might,\n Forcing him yeeld obedience to our crowne,\n By golden tribute yearely paid vs downe.\n\n 40.\n\n After this good successe, perceiuing well,\n That heauen with sunshine lookes grac\u2019d our affaires,\n My hopefull heart with glorie gan to swell,\n Bidding me seeke by fame in forren warres,\n To fixe my name amongst the golden starres,\n And leaue a name on earth to liue for aye,\n When rapt in mould my limbes forgotten lay.\n\n 41.\n\n This stout suggestion of my mightie mind,\n Made me despise foule ease and pleasures light,\n Which softens th\u2019heart, strikes strong desier blind,\n Drownes all eternitie in depth of night,\n And leaues reproch for prise of such delight:\n For fame liues not, except for vertue\u2019s merit,\n Deeds of delite on earth no place inherit.\n\n 42.\n\n A king, that only liues a king in name,\n That dull\u2019d with ease and drown\u2019d in fancie\u2019s lust,\n Can stile his title with no deed of fame,\n Being dead, his name iron-eating time shall rust\n And in the end obscure it in the dust,\n When he, though meane, that vertue\u2019s race doth runne,\n Doth liue eterniz\u2019d like th\u2019immortall sunne.\n\n 43.\n\n This was the winde that set my ships on saile,\n In forren shoares true honor to obtaine,\n This was the prize, for which with prosperous gaile,\n I plow\u2019d my passage through the liquid maine\n Vnto the Arctike pole, where _Charles_ his waine\n Fixt fast in heauen, his station there doth keepe\n With other starres neare diuing to the deepe.\n\n 44.\n\n And there in that cold iland Island call\u2019d,\n Whose mountaines with high heads did heauen aspire,\n Which white with snow as if they had been bald\n Did yet breath forth blacke smoakes and burning fire,\n A wonder strange for humaine sense t\u2019admire,\n I with my Britaines bold bore to the Strand\n And vncontrol\u2019d march\u2019t vp into the land.\n\n 45.\n\n Whose people rude and liuing in their kind,\n As beasts that wander in the desert field,\n The rationall and best part of the mind\n In vse of heauenly things not being skill\u2019d\n Against blind ignorance the soule to shield,\n We did in fight subdue, and by strong hand\n Did them enforce to stoope to our command.\n\n 46.\n\n Their king _Maluasius_ noting well the oddes\n Twixt vs and them in feats of martiall skill,\n And finding, that no place of safe abodes\n Was left to him, in feare of future ill\n Did soone submit himselfe vnto our will,\n And from that time vnto my name\u2019s renowne\n Did yeeld obedience to the Britaine crowne.\n\n 47.\n\n The fame of this exploit being set on wing,\n And through the iles adiacent taking flight,\n _Doldauius_ of the Gotland nation king,\n And great _Gunfacius_ king of Orkney hight\n Despairing to oppose our force in fight,\n Did yeeld to hold their crownes and dignitie\n By tribute to the Britaine emperie.\n\n 48.\n\n But should I vnto light assay to bring\n Each fight then fought and euery deed of worth,\n Had I the strength of thousand tongues to sing,\n Or the shrill trumpe of fame to echo forth\n My conquests, in those ilands of the north,\n Yet would the glasse of time be quite outrun\n Before that true report her part had done.\n\n 49.\n\n Should I relate the many a field I fought\n Against _Aschillius_ that bold Danish king,\n And \u2019gainst proud _Lot_ the Norway king so stout,\n Whom after thousand soules being set on wing,\n We at the length did in subiection bring:\n Scarce would the eares of fraile mortalitie\n Giue credit to our noble historie.\n\n 50.\n\n Yet thinke, what dread of death and dangerous wounds\n We in those trauels then might vndergoe,\n From Albion\u2019s rockes vnto the Russian bounds,\n And our great conquest \u2019gainst the northren foe,\n The fame of our admir\u2019d exploits will show:\n For to the Lap-land kingdome\u2019s vtmost end,\n Our Britaine empire\u2019s bounds I did extend.\n\n 51.\n\n In deeds of fame, thus did I spend the prime\n Of goden youth, which lul\u2019d in pleasure\u2019s bed,\n Flies fast away vpon the wings of time,\n And scarce is knowne t\u2019haue bin, when th\u2019hoarie hed\n With white of wintrie age is ouerspred:\n For age with shame of youth\u2019s fond deeds strooke blind,\n Doth oft abhorre to beare the same in mind.\n\n 52.\n\n Who doth to sloth his yonger daies ingage\n For fond delight, he clips the wings of fame:\n For sloth the canker-worme of honor\u2019s badge,\n Fame\u2019s fethered wings doth fret, burying the name\n Of vertue\u2019s worth in dust of dunghill shame,\n Whom action out of dust to light doth bring\n And makes her mount to heauen with golden wing.\n\n 53.\n\n After my high atchieuements in the north\n I being returned to my natiue land,\n Fame through the world did so renowne the worth\n Of these deeds done by my victorious hand,\n That greatest kings did in amazement stand,\n Strooke blind in looking at the sunshine blaze\n Of my great worth, yet enuying at my praise.\n\n 54.\n\n For when true vertue\u2019s glorious excellence,\n Mounts vp aloft, and like the sun in skies,\n Breakes through the clouds of darkesome ignorance,\n Then enuie rous\u2019d from her darke den doth rise,\n And dazel\u2019d with the golden shine, that flies\n From vertue\u2019s splendor, seekes t\u2019obscure the same,\n And muffle it in her blacke clouds of shame.\n\n 55.\n\n That enuious beast of twice fiue hornes of might,\n Who ore the world did long time tyrannize,\n From Rome\u2019s high towres viewing the golden light\n Of my great fame, which dazled her weake eies,\n Selfe swolne with haughtie pride, rows\u2019d vp did rise,\n And at my state with her proud hornes did push,\n In hope my fame being yet but yong to crush.\n\n 56.\n\n The Roman king that bore great _C\u00e6sar\u2019s_ name,\n Twelue aged sires in senate did select,\n Men of renowne and all of noble fame,\n Who as graue legats his great will t\u2019effect,\n Through Neptune\u2019s wauie empire did direct\n Their course to our sea-bounded Britanie,\n To menace vs with their proud ambasie.\n\n 57.\n\n Where when they came, seeing our court abound,\n With honor\u2019s sonnes emploi\u2019d in deeds of fame,\n Not in still waues of court-deepe pleasures drown\u2019d:\n For vse in deeds of armes and martiall game\n Exiling sloth the pride of lust doth tame:\n They thought their antique Romane emperie,\n Had been transferr\u2019d from Rome to Britanie.\n\n 58.\n\n Yet getting audience one amongst the rest,\n With graue demeanor and great maiestie,\n Thinking with words our greatnesse t\u2019haue represt,\n Began t\u2019infold with high authoritie,\n The thundring threatnings of his ambasie:\n For he vnbidden boldly tooke his place,\n And thus did threaten me vnto my face.\n\n 59.\n\n \u201c_Arthur_,\u201d said he, \u201cfrom ample-streeted Rome\n Where mightie _C\u00e6sar_ thy liege lord doth reigne\n T\u2019effect his will, to thee, loe, we are come,\n And in his name to claime our right againe,\n Which wrongfullie from vs thou dost detaine:\n For long time since ye Britaines well do know\n That Britanie to Rome did tribute owe.\n\n 60.\n\n He doth dislike thy farre commanding minde,\n Nor thy proud bold attempts will he allowe\n In any thing, by him not being design\u2019d,\n By vs he bids thy haughtie stomack bowe\n Vnto the bending of his kinglie browe,\n And wils thy kingdom stoop, though so renown\u2019d,\n To Rome, the mistris of the world\u2019s wide round.\n\n 61.\n\n But if thy hart do harbor haughtie pride,\n And that thy people still stiffnecked bee,\n If that our words in scorne thou set aside,\n Then to thy face I here do threaten thee,\n That ere thine eyes one summer more shall see,\n More troopes of men gainst thee we will imploie\n Then erst did Greekes against the sonnes of Troy.\u201d\n\n 62.\n\n This threatning speech did set my thoughts on fire,\n And made me to returne this sharpe replie:\n \u201cDoting old wretch,\u201d said I, \u201cthou dost aspire\n In vaine by vanting words to terrifie\n The hart of him that scornes thy ambasie,\n Nor can our person patiently permit\n Those barbarous taunts, signes of thy doting wit.\n\n 63.\n\n Do Romaines harbor such a base conceit\n That Britain\u2019s _Arthur_ is of lesse renowne\n Then is their king, in empire, though so great?\n Or that vsurping _C\u00e6sar_ with a frowne\n Can make vs yeeld the title of our crowne?\n O sillie sots to thinke vs such a sort\n As your base speeches whilom did import.\n\n 64.\n\n Is not our noble nation by descent\n Sprung from the warlike Troian\u2019s roiall race?\n And shall our thoughts be then so baselie bent,\n As with subiection seruilie t\u2019embrace\n The yoke of loftie Rome the world\u2019s disgrace?\n Her fame shall fall, our Britaine state shall rise,\n She ore the world no more shall tyrannize.\n\n 65.\n\n With swiftest speed returne thou this replie,\n That we a people free will still maintaine\n \u2019Gainst all the world our ancient libertie,\n And that thou well maist know how wee disdaine\n The seruile yoke of Rome\u2019s insulting reigne,\n Ile bring reuenge, which Rome shall neuer shun\n For that great scath which _C\u00e6sar_ here hath done.\u201d\n\n 66.\n\n This said, they all amaz\u2019d at my replie\n Dismist, made no abode in this our land:\n But with winde-winged sailes did swiftly flie\n Ouer the depths of Neptune\u2019s high command,\n Of whom their _C\u00e6sar_ soone did vnderstand\n How his command with scorne we did deride,\n In tempting our disdaine with such vaine pride.\n\n 67.\n\n A which inrag\u2019d, he in a fatall houre\n The tribune _Lucius_ for the warre design\u2019d,\n Who into France came downe with all his power,\n Where many legionaries he did finde\n Vnto that quarter of the world assign\u2019d,\n To keepe it peacefull by warr\u2019s threatfull stroke,\n Which then began to shake off Roman yoke.\n\n 68.\n\n And as he did prepare to greedie fight,\n So did we arme vnto the bloodie field\n And from each quarter of our land did cite\n All such as able were with strength to wield\n Or launce, or bowe, or dart, or sword and shield,\n Whom we did muster vp in armes well dight\n To make them apt and skilfull for the fight.\n\n 69.\n\n And in our absence in those forren warres,\n To guard our state against all aduerse feare,\n We left at home to manage all affaires,\n _Mordred_ the brother of my _Gawin_ deare,\n Our faithlesse nephew, that false hearted peere,\n Th\u2019ignoble sonne of _Loth_ the Pictish king:\n From whose blacke treason my sad fall did spring.\n\n 70.\n\n Whose loyaltie I little did suspect,\n Though on my death his hopes did then depend:\n But who so wise hath been that can detect\n The meanes and houre, by which the fates intend\n To mortall life to adde the finall end?\n Though both the meanes and houre most certaine bee,\n Yet most vncertaine is the time\u2019s decree.\n\n 71.\n\n But being most secure of future chance,\n My thoughts to meete the foes being set on wing,\n Who did ordaine, that Augustence in France\n Should be the place for each assistant king,\n Vnto the Romane aid their powers to bring:\n With warre\u2019s loud trumpe from all parts of the land,\n I call\u2019d my Britaines downe vnto the strand.\n\n 72.\n\n Where our blacke barkes all readie furnish\u2019t lay,\n In which departing from the barren shore,\n Wing\u2019d with full gale, the ships did force their way,\n So swiftly with their bending bulkes before,\n That 'bout their brests the giuing waues did rore,\n Through which we kept our course without mischance,\n And did at Harflew safe arriue in France.\n\n 73.\n\n Where thousands troop\u2019t in armes the shoares did show\n Sent from those princes by alleageance bound,\n T\u2019assist vs in our warres against the foe,\n Who when our feet did presse the sandie ground,\n Did welcome our approch with shouts loud sound:\n In euery place _Bellona_ loud did sing,\n Of horse and foot the countrie round did ring.\n\n 74.\n\n Our powers being ioyn\u2019d and euerie seuerall band\n Digested for the fight, without delay\n We marched from the salt sea\u2019s slimie strand,\n And sent our scouts before vs in the way,\n To know where _Lucius_ host encamped lay:\n But hearing nought we forward did aduance,\n Vntill we came to Augustence in France.\n\n 75.\n\n And there vpon a chosen plot of ground\n The Roman host with their especiall aides\n Arm\u2019d in strong steele for fight prepar\u2019d we found,\n The blaze of whose bright shields and glittering blades,\n Did cast a sunshine in the darkest shades:\n With whom we thought t\u2019haue then begun the fight,\n Had setting sun not shew\u2019d approching night.\n\n 76.\n\n But when from vnderneath the siluer vaile\n Of Thetis lap Apollo did arise,\n And to the batlements of heau\u2019n exhale\n Night\u2019s dewie drops, which fell before from skies,\n Our bands t\u2019applie for fight we did deuise,\n And euerie one did buckle to the field,\n Thirsting to bloodie fight their strength to yeild.\n\n 77.\n\n Then did the trumpet shrill sound out alowd\n To bring them bold to the insatiate field,\n And on the plaine both parts in thickest crowd\n Opposing sword to sword and shield to shield,\n Not fear\u2019d with death, but with stout courage fild,\n Began the fight, and none their backs did turne,\n In euerie place the skirmish hot did burne.\n\n 78.\n\n But where the kinglie eagle Ioue\u2019s faire bird\n Great _C\u00e6sar\u2019s_ standard did maintaine the fight,\n There both on horse and foote the slaughtering sword\n Made greatest hauock, where with most affright\n To my bold Britons, _Lucius_, that stout knight,\n Did beate the field or turning troops of men,\n As if the battaile onlie there had ben.\n\n 79.\n\n Which when I heard, with my victorious lance\n Thirsting to do where deeds of worth were done,\n I towards that part my standard did aduance,\n The virgin mother of great Ioue\u2019s owne sonne,\n Vnder whose badge I many a field had wonne,\n Where 'mongst the foes I rusht with my bold bands,\n T\u2019auenge my slaughtered friends at _Lucius\u2019_ hands.\n\n 80.\n\n Then prudent Ioue vpon the foes did frowne,\n And in his ballance holding either fate\n Of both our fortunes, made their lot sinke downe,\n Vpon our steps in fight did conquest wait,\n Death\u2019s terror did the foe-men\u2019s strength abate,\n Whose hands fell strengthlesse downe, being all inclin\u2019d\n To flie with shame, and leaue vs fame behind.\n\n 81.\n\n They fled, and we did eager pursuit make:\n But sad report on fame\u2019s vnluckie wing,\n With fatall tidings did vs ouertake,\n How all our Britaine ocean round did ring\n With _Mordred\u2019s_ deeds aspiring to be king,\n Which strooke more terror to my grieued mind,\n Then if the world \u2019gainst me in armes had shin\u2019d.\n\n 82.\n\n Yet with late conquest won in mind made bold,\n Returning to our fleet we launcht from land,\n And being out at sea we might behold\n Our owne rebellious kingdome\u2019s rockie strand,\n Strengthen\u2019d about the coast with many a band:\n Which did my vexed soule with sorrow sting,\n To see false subiects bent to braue their king.\n\n 83.\n\n As lions rob\u2019d of yong with hideous rore\n All raging wood, makes th\u2019echoing forrest shake\n And beasts to dread: so sailing towards the shore,\n My souldiers charging, with loud shouts did make\n The stoutest hearts on th\u2019aduerse part to quake:\n A wrongfull cause makes fortitude giue backe,\n And guilt of treason courage doth aslacke.\n\n 84.\n\n Yet on the land at Sandwich port, before\n We could set foot, we lost much life and blood:\n For with stones, darts, and shafts thicke sent from shore,\n Our men as on the deckes they stoutly stood\n Were ouerturn\u2019d into the wauie flood,\n 'Mongst whom without all helpe before our eies,\n Did many sinke, and neuer more did rise.\n\n 85.\n\n For many 'mongst the rest being wounded sore,\n Rising againe, to shun their timelesse graue,\n Their fainting browes aboue the billowes bore,\n And when their lips did ouerlooke the waue,\n For helpe cri\u2019d out their loued liues to saue:\n But they, alas, made weake, with losse of blood,\n Sinking, poore soules, were strangled in the flood.\n\n 86.\n\n To wreake such harmes with sharpned arrowes store,\n Steele-headed iauelins, stones and singing darts,\n We charg\u2019d the bold defendants on the shore,\n Which did impresse deepe wounds in their best harts,\n And made the rest retire t\u2019escape such smarts,\n From whom our men the firme land hauing won,\n \u2019Twixt them and vs a dreadfull fight begun.\n\n 87.\n\n Where noble _Anguisell_ the Scotish king,\n Amidd\u2019st the foes in fight incircled round,\n Did in our cause endure death\u2019s fatall sting:\n And valiant _Cador_ after many a wound,\n Did sinke downe dead vpon the flowrie ground:\n Whom my deare _Gawin_ did consort in death,\n And in our right, with them expir\u2019d his breath.\n\n 88.\n\n For making slaughter with his mightie lance\n Vpon the aduerse troopes, though many a band\n Inclos\u2019d him from all helpe, where he by chance\n Was wounded by a fatall souldier\u2019s hand,\n Yet \u2019gainst them all alone he made his stand,\n And with his life halfe spent in their despight,\n Did make retreate vnto his tent from fight.\n\n 89.\n\n Where through his wound, before his life did fleet,\n These words hee spake vnto the standers by,\n \u201cWith sad farewell my soueraigne I doe greet,\n In whose defence against his foes, though I\n In death triumphant ouer death do die,\n Yet brother\u2019s treason wounds my heart with woe,\n For which with griefe vnto my graue I goe.\n\n 90.\n\n Yee powers of heauen, on whose dispose diuine\n The gift of conquest doth depend alone,\n Let our dread king in battaile victor shine\n Against his foes, let traytors falling grone\n Beneath his sword, that do aspire his throne:\n But cease my words, death doth my breath exhale,\n Adue my liege, I die, my life doth faile.\u201d\n\n 91.\n\n This said, he slept in death, yet neuer sleepes\n The fame of his admired loyaltie,\n Seal\u2019d with his blood, record for euer keepes,\n His name a mirror of true constancie\n To his liege lord for all posteritie:\n For vnto us he in true loyall loue\n Gainst nature\u2019s selfe to death did constant proue.\n\n 92.\n\n Nature\u2019s affect leuel\u2019d by rule of reason,\n The due respect of common good doth binde\n Gainst nature\u2019s selfe, and when the hand of treason\n Inuades the state of kings, the noble minde\n To shun the taint of blood \u2019gainst their owne kinde,\n Aduerse in nature seeme, that loue to showe,\n Which first to care of common good they owe.\n\n 93.\n\n Which this illustrate knight in hart did keepe,\n And with his blood in death did seale the same:\n Which when I heard sad sorrowe seated deepe\n In my grieu\u2019d hart my thoughts did so inflame,\n That on the foes I rusht with loud exclame,\n And with heroicke wreake my harte\u2019s true loue\n To my deare _Gawin_ dead, I did approue.\n\n 94.\n\n In our reuenge such slaughter we did make\n With furious onset on the aduerse part,\n That vnto flight themselues they did betake,\n Nor durst the brest that bore the boldest hart\n Stand forth \u2019gainst vs to shake his threatning dart:\n False traytor\u2019s hearts the coward\u2019s feare doth feele,\n Nor can an edge be set vpon their steele.\n\n 95.\n\n The Saxon _Cerdicus_ and _Mordred_ both\n Confederates in this treason \u2019gainst our state,\n Did flie t\u2019escape the meed of their vntroth,\n Whom we did fast pursue with deadly hate\n From place to place, vntill vntimely fate\n Did by one battell shut vp all our strife\n In _Mordred\u2019s_ death, and losse of my deare life.\n\n 96.\n\n A second field at Winchester we won,\n Where many foes in fight were stricken dead,\n 'Mongst whom false _Mordred_ his blacke death did shun,\n Who with his friends although from field he fled:\n Yet t\u2019hazard fortune once more he made hed,\n And on a plaine by Glastenburie towne,\n Fatall to all this land his tents pight downe.\n\n 97.\n\n Whom I as one, that of his owne accord\n Had sought to hasten death in armes bedight,\n In person follow\u2019d with reuengefull sword,\n To shew my selfe as well the first in fight,\n As first in name, though with respectiue right\n To common good, whose state depended then\n Vpon my life: I might haue absent ben;\n\n 98.\n\n Yet could not this disswade me from the field,\n But in the morne when as the daie\u2019s bright king\n The mountaine tops with golden shine did gild,\n No sooner did the warlike trumpet sing\n Warre\u2019s fearfull song, the sound of which did ring\n About my eares, but rous\u2019d from rest I rose,\n And arm\u2019d me for the field to meet my foes.\n\n 99.\n\n With trumpet\u2019s blast Bellona summon\u2019d out\n My Britons to the field, and then began\n Each seuerall band t\u2019enranke themselues about\n My royall standard, while each captaine ran\n From troope to troope enabling euerie man\n To charge the rebels with their vtmost might,\n Who in the field stood brauing vs for fight.\n\n 100.\n\n With trumpets, drums and dreadfull shouts of men\n The battailes ioyn\u2019d, earth\u2019s batter\u2019d pauements vnder\n Did seeme to shake, heauen sounded lowd, as when\n Bold Boreas clad in darknesse, stormes and thunder,\n Doth cuffe the cloudes and rends their ribs in sunder:\n Both parts being eager bent the day to winne,\n The fight at first with furie did begin.\n\n 101.\n\n And as the hunter his shrill horne doth winde,\n Breaths forth lowd shoutes and vseth all his art\n To make his dogs to pinch the game behinde:\n So euerie where I chear\u2019d vp euerie hart,\n And vrg\u2019d my men against the aduerse part,\n Exciting them by mine owne valiancie\n To charge through death for fame and victorie.\n\n 102.\n\n So long as faire Aurorae\u2019s light did shine,\n All valiantlie themselues in fight did beare:\n But when the king of flames began decline\n From steepe Olympus top, th\u2019whole host with feare\n Affrighted was, all troopes disordered were,\n Who giuing back from field had fled awaie,\n If I through death, had not regain\u2019d the day.\n\n 103.\n\n For loe, a Pictish souldier 'mongst the foes\n Spake in the British tongue: \u201cYeeld (O friends) yield,\n No more your selues to death in vaine oppose,\n _Arthur_ is dead, and with him dead in field\n His knights are laid, on whom our hopes did build:\u201d\n This spake he with lowd voice in th\u2019heate of fight,\n Thereby to turne our battaile into flight:\n\n 104.\n\n But I that heard and knew his close intent,\n In front of all the field my selfe did show\n Whereby my Britons, that before were bent\n To turne their backes, turn\u2019d head vpon the foe,\n \u2019Twixt whom the fight againe did feruent grow,\n With whom I brake into the dangerous fight\n In hope to meet with _Mordred_, that false knight.\n\n 105.\n\n My launce and sword did many a bosome sacke\n Of life\u2019s rich spoiles, which were all men of name,\n The common sort my hand in troopes did wrack,\n For through deepe wounds and death in martiall game\n I did enforce my way to win me fame,\n Till wounded in the head with fatall steele\n My death\u2019s approch in fight I gan to feele.\n\n 106.\n\n Yet when warme blood through my crackt veines flow,\n And subtle aire gan pierce the liuely braine,\n The eager anguish did my valor show:\n For manie foemen in my furie slaine\n Did pay my wreake with death and deadlie baine:\n Still did I fight, although with fainting breath,\n Vntill in fight I heard of _Mordred\u2019s_ death.\n\n 107.\n\n Whose tragick fall when true report did tell,\n His souldiers fled away, and in their flight\n Vp flew their heeles, in slaughter fast they fell,\n Darts thick as haile their backs behinde did smite,\n Farre more in chase did fall, then in the fight:\n Yea none had scap\u2019t the furie of that day\n Had not my bleeding wounds stood in my way.\n\n 108.\n\n In manie a fight before in death\u2019s despight\n Vpon my head ten wounds I did sustaine,\n With life vntoucht: but in this fatall fight\n Remorslesse fate to end my life and reigne\n With one deepe wound did wound my vitall braine:\n For in the chace with torment of that wound\n Deathe\u2019s touch I felt and fell vpon the ground.\n\n 109.\n\n From whence conuei\u2019d to Glastenburie by\n By my deare friends, who did in vaine pretend\n To saue my life, loe, as I there did lie\n In th\u2019armes of death, perceiuing how each friend\n Did shew his ruth, in teares for my sad end,\n These words I spake, before my vading breath\n Did flie away vpon the wings of death.\n\n 110.\n\n \u201cGrieue not,\u201d said I, \u201cto see your wounded king\n Wrapt in the ruine of his life now done:\n For Ph\u0153nix-like from death new life shall spring,\n Which in this life I by my death haue wonne,\n I dead, that left to liue, when I am gone,\n Yea, this in death shall liue my future grace,\n I di\u2019d a conquerour in cold death\u2019s embrace.\n\n 111.\n\n The kingly ruth which our sad soule attends\n Is our deare countrie\u2019s sight, which setled deepe\n In depth of my deare loue (O noble friends)\n To you I tender \u2019gainst all spoile to keepe,\n When I in peace haue laid me down to sleepe,\n Death now triumphs, my mortall daies are done.\n My houre is spent, my glasse is quite outrun.\u201d\n\n 112.\n\n This said, when I twice thirteene yeares had been\n The stout defendant of my countrie\u2019s right,\n My soule did leaue th\u2019abodes of mortall men,\n My liuelesse limbes in secret hid from sight,\n Interred were at Glastenburie hight:\n Thus hast thou heard the truth of all my storie,\n My life, my death, and my nere dying glorie.\n\n 113.\n\n In which as in a glasse, seeing men may see\n That action only dignifies the name,\n That vertue betters euery bare degree,\n That vading pleasures vpshot is but shame,\n And silent sloth the opposite to fame,\n Commit to mind, what I commend to thee,\n That vnto men a Mirrour it may bee.\n\n\n\n\n THE LIFE AND DEATH\n\n _of King Edmvnd, svrnamed_\n\n Ironside.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cThis was a worthie prince,\u201d quoth Memorie,\n \u201cPeerelesse amongst the kings of Britanie,\n After whose death the British rule did cease,\n And th\u2019English power did more and more increase:\n For not long after on the Britaine throne\n The Saxon kings did rule and raigne alone,\n Who did at first agree in one consent\n To make seuen kingdomes of this regiment,\n Which did in that confused sort remaine\n Till the beginning of king _Egbert\u2019s_ raigne:\n About which time from Denmarke with strong hand\n _Inguar_ and _Hubba_ came t\u2019inuade this land,\n With whom the Saxons manfully did fight,\n And turn\u2019d them oftentimes to coward flight:\n Yet did they heere long time beare great command,\n Though many a valiant king did them withstand,\n 'Mongst whom I find this one, whose tragedie\n Is not recited in our historie,\n Which _Edmund_ call\u2019d, surnamed _Ironside_,\n A famous prince, in battell often tride,\n Whom fortune still did grace with victorie\n In fight against _Canute_ his enemie:\n Yet by the cruell fates vniust command\n He lost his life by wicked traytor\u2019s hand,\n Whom vp from graue let fame with summons call,\n To take his turne and tell his tragicke fall.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n Fame calles vp _Edmund_ from his graue below,\n His life and lamentable death to show.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n We are not borne vnto our selues alone,\n Deeds done, though good: yet from a greedy mind\n Intending priuate weale, when life is gone,\n Vading away, leaue no record behind\n In fame\u2019s faire booke, for future age to find:\n Self-loue to priuate good, no good can craue,\n When life is gone such loue lies dead in graue.\n\n 2.\n\n The fruits of loue, which after life do liue,\n To grow from loue of common good are seene,\n To reape such fruit, whoso his life shall giue,\n Though dead, yet liues: his fruit aye waxeth greene,\n Of which my life a Mirrour might haue been:\n But whose sad muse my tragedie doth sing,\n Or who to light king _Edmund\u2019s_ deeds doth bring?\n\n 3.\n\n Now from my graue, the bed of my long rest\n Rous\u2019d vp by fame, through shades of silent night,\n Behold I come obeying her behest,\n As Mirrours vnto men, to bring to light\n My deeds, oft done in my deare countrie\u2019s right:\n Heare then (thou sleeping wight) whose mournefull muse\n To sing my storie Memorie doth chuse.\n\n 4.\n\n I am the sonne of that vnhappie king\n Hight _Egelred_, whose daies were wrapt in woe,\n And on whose head false fortune downe did fling,\n Such miserable scath and ouerthrow,\n That he was forc\u2019d his kingdome to forgo:\n For subiect\u2019s treacherie did him constraine\n To leaue his kingdome vnto bloodie _Swaine_.\n\n 5.\n\n To bloodie _Swaine_, who from our Albion shore\n Vnto the Norman duke to saue his life,\n Forc\u2019d him to flie, whose sister he, before\n My mother dead, had made his second wife,\n In hope thereby t\u2019appease domesticke strife,\n And by the aid of Norman valiancie,\n To quell the force of forren enemie.\n\n 6.\n\n But hence did rise the ruine of the state,\n And fourth decay of Albion\u2019s emperie,\n This was the gap, which by decree of fate\n Was open laid for time\u2019s posteritie,\n Vnto the Norman conquerer\u2019s victorie:\n For by these fatall nuptials in the end,\n The Norman duke his title did pretend.\n\n 7.\n\n My sire being thus constrain\u2019d by forren force,\n And subiects treason, in such miserie,\n Amongst his Norman friends to seeke remorce\n Of his mishaps, the land meane time did lie\n Groaning beneath the victor\u2019s tyrannie,\n For nere did captiu\u2019d men sustaine such woes,\n As did the english of the conquering foes.\n\n 8.\n\n O noble England, nurse of my renowne,\n Queene of all ilands canoped of heauen,\n How was thy towring state then troden downe?\n How were thy sonnes from their sad mother driuen?\n Thy daughter\u2019s beautie vnto rapine giuen?\n My words, alas, will thy sad heart compell\n To bleed with woe, these woes to heare me tell.\n\n 9.\n\n The simple hinde, who with day-labour stroue\n In fruitlesse field to furrow vp his bread,\n Nor for himselfe the earth with paine did proue,\n But for another, whom his labour fed,\n Although in heart he often wisht him dead,\n In euery house lord Dane did then rule all,\n Whence laysie lozels lurdanes now we call.\n\n 10.\n\n The nuptiall bed, the lodge of chaste delight,\n Was common vs\u2019d in wedlocke\u2019s foule disdaine,\n Sweet virgins daily forc\u2019d to deeds of night,\n Faire ladies beautie set to sale for gaine,\n Children made bondslaues, wretched husbands slain,\n Who to such rufull spoile were iustly giuen\n For their offence against the king of heauen.\n\n 11.\n\n Let such, whose peacefull eares from sad affright\n Of warre\u2019s dread voice the hand of heauen doth close,\n Who lull\u2019d in that dame\u2019s lap of sweet delight,\n The queene of peace do sleepe secure of foes,\n Thinke it humane, to thinke on other\u2019s woes:\n And in such thoughts fear such like woes to come,\n For their offence ordain\u2019d by Ioue\u2019s iust doome.\n\n 12.\n\n The life of state lay stifeled in the smoke\n Of blacke despaire, till death tooke life from _Swaine_,\n Then th\u2019english peeres shooke off the heauie yoke\n Of forren pride, which they did erst sustaine,\n And did recall my father home againe,\n Who did enforce by power of his strong hand\n _Canute_ the sonne of _Swaine_ to leaue this land.\n\n 13.\n\n Then did he seeke to reerect againe\n The ruines of his crowne\u2019s collapsed state:\n But he, t\u2019whom at his birth heauen did ordaine\n In all his deeds ineuitable fate\n Of bad euent, euen to his daie\u2019s last date\n His wishfull hopes in vaine did seeke t\u2019aduance,\n Vpon th\u2019vnsteadie wheele of fickle chance.\n\n 14.\n\n For ere those sprightfull horse of heauenly breed,\n That draw the chariot of the golden sunne,\n Who day by day do vse their swiftest speed\n From east to west their yeare\u2019s full race had runne,\n Our fatall foe _Canute_ king _Swanus_ sonne,\n To wretched England made returne againe\n From Denmarke shores with many a thousand Dane.\n\n 15.\n\n Who taking land at _Sandwich_ in their ire,\n Deuoid of pitie in the spoile of good,\n Senselesse of humane woes with spoilefull fire\n All things did burne, that in their passage stood,\n Nor yet suffic\u2019d: but thirsting after blood,\n All doom\u2019d to death, none kept for captiue bands,\n Were slaine in troopes by their remorcelesse hands.\n\n 16.\n\n T\u2019oppose their powers in field I soone did cite\n My father\u2019s subiects from all quarters by:\n But when prepar\u2019d we were in field to fight,\n Th\u2019unhappie tidings through our host did flie\n Of false duke _Edrick_ and his treacherie,\n Who with his troope in depth of darkest night,\n Vnto _Canutus_ campe did take his flight.\n\n 17.\n\n Whereby made weake vnable to withstand\n Th\u2019augmented powers of our insulting foe,\n We backe return\u2019d with our disabled band,\n And to our kingly father we did show\n Duke _Edrick\u2019s_ treason, which, alas, with woe\n So wounds his heart, that he expires his breath,\n Poore aged king, and ends his woes in death.\n\n 18.\n\n He being dead, to me his eldest borne,\n Was left the reliques of a ruin\u2019d state,\n By rage of Mars a kingdome rent and torne,\n A diademe by sterne decree of fate\n Ordain\u2019d for prize of bloodie warre\u2019s debate,\n Which was the end, for which _Canute_ and I\n In martial field did many a battell trie.\n\n 19.\n\n O wretched end of glorie thirsting pride!\n O vaine pursuit of empire and renowne!\n What lot the land of discord doth betide\n But wastfull spoile and all turn\u2019d topsie downe?\n What doe we purchase but a carefull crowne?\n A crowne of care, the cause of froward strife,\n The cause for which I lost my loued life.\n\n 20.\n\n For after that against th\u2019inuading foe\n Six bloodie battailes I had fought in field,\n I that in warre away did victor goe,\n On whom (O England) thou thy hopes didst build,\n Vanquish\u2019t in peace to death was forc\u2019d to yeeld:\n The chance of warre my chance could not apall,\n But trust in traytors wrought my wretched fall.\n\n 21.\n\n When as the crowne my head did first adorne,\n These thoughts vnto my selfe, I thus did frame:\n Vnto my selfe I am not onlie borne,\n My countrie deare the cheefest part doth claime,\n Who to my care now kneeles and craues the same,\n To saue the remnant of her ruin\u2019d soile\n From cruell foes that threat her vtter spoile.\n\n 22.\n\n The thought of this did spirit bold inspire,\n And smart of wounds receiu\u2019d from foes of late\n Did with swift furie feather my desire,\n Which of itself by nature\u2019s gifts did hate\n To linger time, deferring vtmost fate\n In doubtfull chance of battaile to be tride,\n For which I was surnam\u2019d, hight _Ironside_.\n\n 23.\n\n This fire of expedition in affaires\n And height of resolution t\u2019vndergoe,\n Compar\u2019d to strength of limbes and restlesse cares,\n Redoubled in my thoughts t\u2019oppugne the foe,\n And yeeld releefe to England in her woe,\n Did touch _Canutus_ hart with feare, though bent\n To trie his fortunes in the warre\u2019s euent.\n\n 24.\n\n Distracted thus with doubt, in any place\n By doubtfull fight t\u2019ingage his hopefull fate,\n False _Edrick_ hoping for to purchase grace,\n Who for his treason to my sire of late,\n Had run in danger of my deadlie hate,\n Did plot the downfall of mine emperie,\n And in the end did act my tragedie.\n\n 25.\n\n From prince _Canutus_ campe in dead of night,\n Like the Greekes subtile _Synon_, to effect\n His wicked plot, to vs he tooke his flight,\n And at our feete himselfe he did proiect,\n And spake, as if his thoughts had no respect\n To his owne life: for he with craftie wile\n Of seeming sorrow thus did me beguile.\n\n 26.\n\n \u201cO noble prince,\u201d quoth he, \u201cloe, I am come\n As guiltie to my selfe, and do require\n To suffer shamefull death by righteous doome\n From thine owne mouth, against whose royall sire\n And gainst thy selfe I did of late conspire:\n Pronounce then death, a doome more sweet to mee,\n Then aged dayes in loathed life can bee.\n\n 27.\n\n Ay me the dayes, on you I may exclaime,\n In which to foule defame my life I lent:\n Alas, the nights, that testifie my shame,\n Your secret treasons I too late repent:\n O wrongfull world, that made my thoughts consent:\n Nor dayes, nor nights, nor world in future time,\n But will for aye record my gracelesse crime.\n\n 28.\n\n In vaine mine eyes, that shame yee do lament,\n Which follows me where euer I doe wone,\n In vaine my sighs, in vaine yee now are sent\n From wofull hart to waile my trespasse done:\n For should I liue, foule shame how shall I shun?\n Then welcome death, \u2019tis death must end my woe,\n Vnto my graue my greefe with me will goe.\u201d\n\n 29.\n\n This said, he wept and I began relent\n And take remorse on his calamitie,\n His hoarie head did moue me to lament\n His wretched state, whom I from miserie\n Restor\u2019d againe to former dignitie:\n For I, whose thoughts nere double dealing knew,\n Did also thinke his thoughts vnfan\u2019d and true.\n\n 30.\n\n He being restor\u2019d againe to liue in grace,\n Did cloake beneath the vaile of loyaltie,\n Th\u2019intent of treason and did maske the face\n Of foule deceit with fawning flatterie,\n Till time-borne truth did shew his treacherie,\n For many a field and many a dreadfull fight\n His treason shew\u2019d, which time did bring to light.\n\n 31.\n\n The scourge of peacefull pride, the god of warre,\n The prodigue spender of sweet plentie\u2019s store\n Did ride about our coast in iron carre,\n Whose thundring wheeles like Neptune\u2019s dreaded rore,\n Were heard to rattle on our Albion shore,\n So long, vntill the pale-fac\u2019d queene of night\n Had twelue times borrow\u2019d of her brother\u2019s light.\n\n 32.\n\n In six fierce battels fought in martiall field,\n Fortune my sword with conquest did renowne,\n Six times _Canute_ ore-match\u2019d in fight did yeeld\n And fled away, by froward fate cast downe,\n Leauing to me the hope of England\u2019s crowne:\n Whose hopes my sword had smothered in the dust,\n If I to traytor\u2019s words had giuen no trust.\n\n 33.\n\n For, after that I had with foule affright\n Dispers\u2019d the bold _Canutus_ mightie host,\n That had begirt my loyall London hight,\n Lest any breathing space might haue been lost,\n I follow\u2019d him vnto that rockie coast,\n Ouer whose mountaine tops the daie\u2019s great guide,\n The golden sunne appeares each morning tide.\n\n 34.\n\n And there where Medway with his siluer streames\n Runs gliding downe the lowlie dales of Kent,\n Vntill he meetes his elder brother Thames,\n Vpon a hill I pight my warlike tent,\n Expecting how the foes, that night stood bent,\n If till the morne they did determine stay,\n Or daunted with late foile would flie away.\n\n 35.\n\n The night we past in quiet sleepe\u2019s repose,\n And when the bright-cheekt ladie of the light\n Tir\u2019d with night\u2019s toyle from Tython\u2019s bed arose,\n And in her saffron-coloured robe bedight\n With her approch brought vse to mortall fight,\n We troopt our men in Mars\u2019 his best array,\n Vpon the foes in field to giue th\u2019assay.\n\n 36.\n\n The foes stood firme vpon the sandie ground,\n Shaking their deadlie darts with countnance proud:\n Then did the trump the song of battaile sound,\n And Danish kettle drums did beate alowd,\n While euerie one in midst of martiall crowd\n Insatiate in reuenge vndaunted stood,\n Imbruing their bold hands in humane blood.\n\n 37.\n\n While thus oppos\u2019d both parts in fight did stand,\n Hopefull of conquest, on the right side wing\n Of all the host, nere to the slimie strand,\n Where the sweet herbes by Medwaie\u2019s streames do spring,\n The cries of wounded souldiers high did ring,\n For there _Canute_ did charge with violent sway\n Of his horse troopes, in hope to win the day.\n\n 38.\n\n But to represse the fire and quench the flame\n Of his hot courage, with a troope of horse\n I rusht amongst his men with loud exclame,\n Whom with fierce furie in our winged course\n We did so charge, that we did soone inforce\n Their faint retire, which we did swift pursue,\n Vntill with open flight from field they flew.\n\n 39.\n\n Then were the Kentish vales imbru\u2019d in blood,\n Then death was set on foote and thousands fell,\n The brackish wanes of Medganara\u2019s flood\n With slaughtered bodies 'boue the bankes did swell,\n Whose blushing streames the fight far of did tell\n Painting the bankes with crimson in the way,\n As they did glide into the Orean sea.\n\n 40.\n\n Here heauen did smile on me with gracious looke,\n And fortune put faire conquest in my hand,\n On bald occasion hold I might haue tooke\n And thence-forth freed the subiects of my land\n From seruile yoke of forraine king\u2019s command:\n But what we purpose heauen doth still decree,\n In vaine we wish what heauen wils not to bee.\n\n 41.\n\n The treacherous duke, the faithlesse man at armes,\n Ignoble _Edrick_ thus did counsell mee:\n \u201cMy liege,\u201d quoth he, \u201cwe hazard now more harmes\n In pursuit of the flying enemie,\n Then earst we did before the victorie,\n \u2019Tis best we sound retreate and fall to spoile,\n Of these dead foes vpon the sandie soile.\n\n 42.\n\n Your men, though bold, yet wearied with the fight,\n Be faint, and fortune may the foes so grace,\n That they, constrain\u2019d with desperate feare from flight\n To backward death againe to turne their face,\n May charge our troopes disordered in the chace:\n Distraction heartens feare in desperate deeds,\n Constraint in coward thoughts rash valor breeds.\u201d\n\n 43.\n\n This did he speake despairing hope to come\n For prince _Canute_, if we pursu\u2019d the chace:\n Some did approue his counsell sound, and some\n Did vrge against the same, yet found it grace\n With those both rightlie wise and best in place:\n By whose aduice retreate I did command,\n Losing the chance then put into my hand.\n\n 44.\n\n Thus did Troye\u2019s helme-deckt, _Hector_ when in chace\n He had the Greekes vpon Scamander\u2019s plaine,\n And made them house their heads with deepe disgrace\n In their owne fleet: whom then hee could haue slaine\n And burnt their ships, which did their hopes containe:\n But then being crost by lucklesse destinie\n He did omit the profferd victorie.\n\n 45.\n\n Thus did Rome\u2019s scourge, the famous _Hanniball_,\n For when he might with his victorious powers\n Haue made that towne beneath his sword to fall,\n And leueld with the ground her high topt towers,\n Then did he let passe those auspicious houers,\n In which with ease he might haue queld the foe,\n Who after wrought his and his countrie\u2019s woe.\n\n 46.\n\n Securefull thoughts do foster fond delay,\n Bewitching hopes breed carelesnesse of minde,\n Occasion set on wing flies fast away,\n Whose backe once turn\u2019d no hold fast can we finde,\n Her feet are swift, bald is her head behinde,\n Who so hath hold and after lets her goe,\n Doth lose the lot which fortune did bestowe.\n\n 47.\n\n Euen as a fire supprest, if yet remaine\n A sparke not quite extinct, whence growes a flame,\n Wil soone resume his former strength againe:\n Euen so _Canutus_ power, which I did tame,\n And with one blow might then haue queld the same,\n Resum\u2019d proud strength, which little time did yeeld,\n And oft times after brau\u2019d me in the field.\n\n 48.\n\n The bainfull\u2019st battaile we did euer fight,\n At Scorstan was, in fruitfull Worstershire,\n Where vnto both the hosts in open sight\n Duke _Edrick\u2019s_ treason plainly did appeare,\n Which in his hart \u2019gainst me he still did beare:\n The heart once tainted with foule treason\u2019s staine,\n Possest with guile, seldome proues true againe.\n\n 49.\n\n Two dayes in field we stood in doubtfull fight,\n And after mutuall wounds with equall fate,\n Both parts were parted by approching night:\n But in the next daye\u2019s fight this traytor\u2019s hate\n Did shew it selfe, for seeing the foes in state\n Of strength declin\u2019d, he sought by treacherie\n To giue the day vnto the enemie.\n\n 50.\n\n In midst of martiall throng my folk t\u2019excite,\n As I did stand in skirmish \u2019gainst the foe,\n A man of armes there was, which _Osmeare_ hight,\n So like to mee, that scarse you could him know,\n By whom this traytor sought to worke vs woe:\n For as in fight he stood without all dread,\n False _Edrick_ vndiscern\u2019d did strike him dead.\n\n 51.\n\n Whose liuelesse lims in endlesse sleepe fast bound,\n After he had despoil\u2019d and headlesse made,\n He tooke himselfe vnto an higher ground,\n And piching _Osmear\u2019s_ head vpon his blade,\n He held the same on high and thus he said:\n \u201cFlie, wretched countrimen, your king is dead,\n The day is lost, see here king _Edmund\u2019s_ head.\u201d\n\n 52.\n\n The suddaine horror of this vncouth sight\n With suddaine fright my folke did so dismay,\n That they which were not in that part of fight\n Where with my launce and sword I did display\n Th\u2019extreamest of my strength to win the day,\n Away had fled and lost the victorie,\n Had I not heard of _Edrick\u2019s_ treacherie.\n\n 53.\n\n With speed on top of an adioyning hill,\n My selfe I did conuey, where I in sight\n Of all my host thus spake with voice most shrill:\n \u201cFellowes in armes,\u201d quoth I, \u201clet not this slight\n Of traytor\u2019s practise your bold thoughts affright:\n Behold yet free from death\u2019s captiuitie,\n I liue to be reueng\u2019d on th\u2019enimie.\u201d\n\n 54.\n\n This said, each one which had begun to flie\n Turn\u2019d head againe, and stoutly kept his place,\n Then rushing with exclaimes on th\u2019enemie,\n Eager with furie of their late disgrace,\n They gaue the charge so fiercely on the face\n Of th\u2019aduerse force, that by their violent might,\n They brake the rankes, and turn\u2019d their foes to flight.\n\n 55.\n\n With whom the Mercian duke fled fast away,\n The traytor _Edrick_ hopelesse now of grace,\n Who wing\u2019d with feare of his decreed decay,\n Outstript our pursuit, yet with greedie chace\n We did pursue, vntill the day gaue place\n T\u2019approching night, whose wished presence gaue\n Time to the foes themselues from death to saue.\n\n 56.\n\n _Canute_ being fled, did slacke no breathing space,\n Once more to trie the chance of doubtfull fight:\n But gathered his dispersed powers apace,\n With whom I by a place, which Dearehurst hight,\n In sea-side bordering Glostershire should fight,\n Where I with resolution did intend\n In single fight this spoilefull warre to end.\n\n 57.\n\n When on the fishie Seuerne\u2019s bordering costs\n Oppos\u2019d for fight, the battels ranged were,\n A noble knight confronting both the hosts,\n Did boldly in the midst aduance his speare,\n At which both armies did from fight forbeare,\n For straight my men I staid, because I knew\n His purpose then, which thus he did pursue.\n\n 58.\n\n \u201cYee glory-thirsting sonnes of Mars,\u201d said he,\n \u201cTo what I speake, with good aduice giue eare,\n Let not my words by you contemned be,\n If any loue to humane good ye beare,\n Yee will esteeme my exhortations deare,\n If either part my counsell shall refuse,\n No good can happen in these warres we vse.\n\n 59.\n\n Not th\u2019haplesse fate, which followes hostile warre:\n Nor terrible euents of bloodie fight,\n Nor spoiles, that spring from contumelious iarre,\n Nor woes produc\u2019d from strife for lordly right,\n To you, my countrimen, need I recite,\n For woe, alas, this land can testifie\n The rauenous rage of Mars his tyrannie.\n\n 60.\n\n Pitie the teares of this our mother Ile,\n Whose fame which 'bout the world once shone as bright\n As Ph\u0153bus shine, now dim\u2019d, alas, the while,\n With clouds of carefull strife hath lost her light,\n That to behold her in this wretched plight,\n Like sorowe\u2019s image drown\u2019d in waues of woe,\n Would make the hardest flint with teares to flow.\n\n 61.\n\n Her fertile wombe, which goodly fruit did beare,\n Now barren made, war\u2019s stormie breath hath blasted,\n Her buds of gaysome youth, which whilome were\n The flowers of chiualrie, haue headlong hasted\n Their timelesse end, while she in woe hath wasted,\n And we the cause, we wretches, that delight\n By wicked warre to worke her more despight.\n\n 62.\n\n O noble princes, let not warre\u2019s blacke hand\n Put out for aye the shine of England\u2019s light,\n About whose right, both in contention stand,\n But combate for it in a single fight,\n And he that conquers, his be it by right:\n Faire conquest\u2019s gift is in the hand of heau\u2019n,\n Which vnto truth, for truth\u2019s owne sake is giuen.\u201d\n\n 63.\n\n He hauing said, forthwith I forth did step,\n And cast my brazen gauntlet on the plaine,\n To which _Canute_ with courage bold did lep\n And tooke it vp, casting in deepe disdaine\n His rich grau\u2019d gauntlet on the ground againe,\n Which I accepted and propos\u2019d the day,\n When we in fight each other should assay.\n\n 64.\n\n For battell was design\u2019d a plot of ground\n Within a little ile, which Olney hight,\n Whom Seuerne with his armes incircleth round,\n Where we as combatants in single fight\n Should d\u2019araine bettell in both armie\u2019s sight,\n While they assigned were by our command,\n On th\u2019other side of Seuern\u2019s streame to stand.\n\n 65.\n\n The day of fight being come and order giuen,\n Through either host to euery seuerall band\n To keepe their stand, my souldiers vp to heau\u2019n\n Did cast their eyes, beseeching Ioue to stand\n By me in fight, and grace my powerfull hand\n With conquest \u2019gainst _Canute_, by whom cast downe,\n They did expect the rise of my renowne.\n\n 66.\n\n As they thus prai\u2019d, I arm\u2019d me for the fight,\n And being mounted on a sprightfull steed,\n When \u2019twixt both armies I appear\u2019d in sight,\n My terrible aspect did terror breed\n Vnto the aduerse part, but hope did feed\n My souldier\u2019s sight to see my goodly grace,\n My stout demeanor, and my stately pace.\n\n 67.\n\n As Priam\u2019s Hector on the barren plaine,\n Manag\u2019d his horse before the walles of Troy,\n When he in single battell did maintaine\n Troye\u2019s right \u2019gainst Telamon, who did imploy\n All his best strength bold Hector to destroy,\n So on my steed I trotted to and fro,\n Waiting th\u2019approch of my expected foe.\n\n 68.\n\n Who came at length all arm\u2019d in seemely wise\n Into the lists, and when the trumpe did sound,\n Our steeds as swift as birds of wings in skies,\n Their course did run, and we with speares sharpe ground\n Did fiercely meete each other to confound,\n In which swift course our shattered speares did flie,\n Like feathers borne by winde into the skie.\n\n 69.\n\n As two fierce buls fights twixt an heard of kine,\n Whose violence doth increase, when in their sight\n The crimson blood doth from their wounds decline,\n So wounds giuen equally in doubtfull fight,\n Our eager thoughts did to reuenge excite,\n The anguish arm\u2019d our armes with strength to strike,\n And made vs both incounter lion-like.\n\n 70.\n\n On horsback first the fight we did maintaine,\n And when our horse did faile, dismounting straight\n On foote the fight we did begin againe,\n In which my foes haut courage gan to abate,\n I with my sword laid on such wounds of weight,\n That his faint knees did stoope at euerie blow,\n And in the fight did stagger to and fro.\n\n 71.\n\n Who tir\u2019d with toile and fearing least my sword\n Should beare away the palme of victorie,\n Thus spake to me: \u201cForbeare,\u201d quoth he, \u201cbraue lord,\n This doubtfull fight, and let vs both agree\n To ioyne our harts and hands in amitie,\n Least that our swords each other do destroy,\n Leauing this land for others to inioy.\n\n 72.\n\n Right well thou knowst the chance of victorie\n Vncertaine is, and though the crowne thou claime\n As due to thee and thy posteritie,\n So, noble prince, I, in my father\u2019s name,\n As my inheritance do craue the same:\n In one consent then let vs both agree\n That England\u2019s bounds twixt vs may parted bee.\n\n 73.\n\n Let not the inward hands of dogged hate\n Teare thy great minde, but supple it with grace\n Of heauenlie loue, let loue end our debate,\n Which if in thought thou trulie canst imbrace,\n Then in my hart thou hast a brother\u2019s place,\n To which all-seeing Ioue I witnesse call,\n Who is the supreame souereigne of vs all.\u201d\n\n 74.\n\n To this I pausde a while, but at the length\n Conceauing well the combat\u2019s doubtfull chance,\n \u201c_Canute_,\u201d said I, \u201csince God hath giuen thee strength\n In fight to trie the manage of my lance\n And slaughtering sword without thy life\u2019s mischance,\n I thinke right well his will likewise it bee,\n That in my kingdome thou haue part with me.\u201d\n\n 75.\n\n This said, our swords we sheath\u2019d in th\u2019armie\u2019s sight,\n And with kinde armes each other did embrace,\n Happie it seem\u2019d to those, that did delight\n In happie peace, to see such loue take place\n Twixt two such mortall foes in so short space:\n But haplesse I that did accord thereto,\n Th\u2019euent whereof did breed my after woe.\n\n 76.\n\n The traytor _Edrick_, preordainde by fate\n To act my fall, whom for his treacherie\n I daylie did pursue with deadlie hate,\n Did instigate his sonne by villanie\n With impious hands to act my tragedie,\n Who to impietie by nature free,\n After this tragick sort did murther mee.\n\n 77.\n\n Vpon a time, when in the Muse\u2019s bower,\n England\u2019s Parnassus, famous Oxford hight\n Was my abode, there in that fatall houre,\n When as expedient vse did me excite\n To do the deed of nature requisite,\n Vnto the draught as was my wont I went\n Vnto my nature\u2019s vse to yeeld content.\n\n 78.\n\n Where loe, the sonne of this false duke did lie\n Hid in the vault, to further his intent\n With weapon arm\u2019d: for on the draught while I\n Secure did sit, with fatall instrument\n This villane gor\u2019d my bodie\u2019s fundament,\n And there to death his due I timelesse gaue,\n At Glastenburie I was laid in graue.\n\n 79.\n\n Thus after twice sixe months, and as much space,\n As from the time the swallow leaues her nest,\n Till Ph\u0153bus haue the lion in full chace,\n With th\u2019angrie dog, that from his burning brest\n Breaths mortall plagues, hot feauers and vnrest,\n When I had raign\u2019d, I lost my life and crowne:\n With which our English name lost her renowne.\n\n 80.\n\n Thus hast thou heard the sad catastrophe,\n And fatall period of my life and raigne,\n In which thou seest, that where false treacherie\n Hath toucht the heart with her foule finger\u2019s staine,\n There seldome constant truth returnes againe,\n Which that it may to future times be knowne,\n Forget not what was said, when I am gone.\n\n\n\n\n THE LAMENTABLE LIFE\n\n _and death of Prince Alfred, brother_\n\n to King Edmund Ironside.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cBy death of this braue prince,\u201d quoth Memorie,\n \u201cThe English lost both fame and libertie,\n Too cruell were inexorable fates,\n On him so swiftly t\u2019execute their hates:\n Yet with his brother _Alfred\u2019s_ wofull end\n For tragicke act, his death may not contend,\n Who liues an exile all his infancie\n With his deare vncle, duke of Normandie,\n Whence he in riper yeares recall\u2019d againe,\n Returning is betray\u2019d, and on the plaine\n By Guilford towne his friends betray\u2019d by night,\n Are tith\u2019d to death by _Godwin_, that false knight,\n The prince is sent to Elie, where his eyne\n Being both put out, with hunger he doth pine,\n Till th\u2019instruments of _Harrold\u2019s_ tyrannie\n Do butcher him with barbarous crueltie,\n Who is the next in course, that must commend\n To thee, the maner of his wofull end:\n Let fame then call his mournefull ghost to tell\n The woes and vncouth death, which him befell.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n Prince _Alfred_ summon\u2019d, tells to Memorie\n His life, his death, and _Godwin\u2019s_ treacherie.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n Of all the sonnes of men, vnhappie fate\n With spight pursues the borne of high degree,\n Where tyrant wrong vsurpes the chaire of state\n The baser subiect sits from danger free,\n Wofull it is of royall birth to bee,\n Of which my woes a witnesse may remaine,\n Such tragicke woes no prince did ere sustaine.\n\n 2.\n\n Vp then (thou saddest of the sacred nine)\n Cause of sad sorow, neuer hadst thou more,\n Vp (rufull ghosts and shew some dolefull signe\n Of heauie griefe) powre out your teares in store,\n Cause of sad sorow neuer had yee more:\n And (thou) the pen-man of my historie\n Prepare sad verse for my sad tragedie.\n\n 3.\n\n I am that _Alfred_, famous Edmund\u2019s brother,\n Who in the time of my minoritie\n Was by queene _Emma_ our beloued mother,\n Sent to mine vncle duke of Normandie,\n There to remaine safe from the enemie,\n While heere at home against the sonne of _Swaine_,\n My brother _Edmund_ battell did maintaine.\n\n 4.\n\n Who being slaine, as thou before didst heare,\n By treacherous _Edricke_ and his bloodie sonne,\n They for their fact a guerdon due did beare:\n For whereas praise by it they thought t\u2019haue wonne\n Of king _Canute_, they both to death were done,\n Whose hands with blood, whose hearts with treason floe,\n Seldome in peace vnto the graue do goe.\n\n 5.\n\n Canute being seated on the English throne\n By ioynt consent of the nobilitie,\n To sit sole monarch in the same alone,\n Did daily seeke by wisdome\u2019s policie,\n T\u2019establish it to his posteritie,\n While I, and _Edward_ hight my elder brother,\n Did liue in exile with our wofull mother.\n\n 6.\n\n Meane time _Canute_, th\u2019vsurper of our right,\n Hug\u2019d in the armes of peace, and finding none\n That could oppose themselues against his might,\n After all stormes of warre were ouerblowne,\n By blood gan tyrant-like t\u2019vsurpe the throne:\n For without cause the royall blood he spilt\n Of _Edmund\u2019s_ brother _Edwin_, void of guilt.\n\n 7.\n\n King _Edmund\u2019s_ sonnes, those faultlesse infants twaine,\n _Edmund_ and _Edward_ by his sterne decree,\n Were sent vnto the Norway king hight _Swaine_,\n He being design\u2019d to act their death: but hee\n Lamenting their mishaps, did set them free,\n And sent them both vnto th\u2019Hungarian king,\n Who kept them safe beneath his soueraigne wing.\n\n 8.\n\n _Canute_ being freed from doubtfull feare of those,\n That to the diademe might make iust claime,\n To peacefull pleasure did his thoughts dispose,\n And gan to thinke how with some royall dame,\n He in chast bed might amplifie his name,\n No sonne he had t\u2019enioy this wretched soile,\n But _Harrold_ basely borne of beautie\u2019s spoile.\n\n 9.\n\n Vpon our mother he did cast his loue,\n On whose dislike of loue we both did build\n Our future hopes, but she, alas, to proue\n The weakenesse of her sexe, as prompt to yeeld,\n Leauing vs both, whom she from harme should sheeld,\n Did cast her wauering thoughts vpon _Canute_,\n And in the end did grant his vniust suit.\n\n 10.\n\n (O) who doth know the wandring eye, that feeds\n Th\u2019vnstedfast fancie of weake women\u2019s heart,\n Constant in nought, but in inconstant deeds,\n In weaknesse strong, as if the soule\u2019s best part\n Composed were by fond loue\u2019s artlesse art:\n Alas, that faithlesse faults should so excell,\n Where faultlesse faith with reason ought to dwell.\n\n 11.\n\n She bath\u2019d in blisse, while we lay drown\u2019d in woe,\n She grew in pride, while we did pine away,\n She soft embrac\u2019d in th\u2019armes of our false foe,\n Did smile at our mishaps, while day by day\n We did expect our loued liues decay:\n For fatall \u2019tis to princes royall borne\n Where tyrant\u2019s browes the garland doth adorne.\n\n 12.\n\n So long with her _Canute_ she liu\u2019d in loue,\n Till with loue\u2019s fruit her wombe to wex begun,\n Which being brought to light, a sonne did proue:\n But when that twice nine times the golden sun\n In heauen\u2019s bright zodiack through the signes had run,\n The clouds of care began the dolefull night,\n Which did eclipse the shine of her delight.\n\n 13.\n\n Then the deare daies of her dread lord were done,\n The stroke of death no mortall may withstand,\n The kingdome _Harrold_ his ignoble sonne,\n The bastard did aspire, by whose command\n Our wretched mother was exil\u2019d the land,\n And in despight despoil\u2019d of all that store,\n Which her _Canute_ had giuen to her before.\n\n 14.\n\n But death\u2019s cold touch so soone did close mine eies,\n That I beheld not my sad mother\u2019s woes,\n The base vsurper did my death deuise\n Before her fall, in court soone finding those,\n Whom he to act my tragicke murther chose:\n The courts of kings with sycophants do swarme,\n Tyrants do want no instruments of harme.\n\n 15.\n\n An English earle there was, which _Godwin_ hight,\n Whose name about the world report did blaze,\n A man of wicked wit, in fortune\u2019s sight\n So highly grac\u2019d, that he himselfe did raise\n To be the greatest peere in those our daies,\n The king was only then a king by name,\n While he perform\u2019d the office of the same,\n\n 16.\n\n And in the ruffe of his felicitie,\n Prickt with ambition, he began disdaine\n His bastard lord\u2019s vsurp\u2019d authoritie,\n Plotting by priuate counsels, how to gaine\n Th\u2019emperiall garland after him to raigne:\n Greatnesse in sway of state giues wings t\u2019aspire,\n Aduancement feeds ambition with desire.\n\n 17.\n\n In broken sleepes he did consume the night,\n While his liege lord lay lull\u2019d in th\u2019armes of shame,\n Hope of a kingdome was his sole delight,\n While _Harrold_ senselesse of all kingly fame,\n To idle ease himselfe did only frame,\n Which set th\u2019 insulting _Godwin\u2019s_ hopes on wing,\n Whence woe is me, my woes did after spring.\n\n 18.\n\n My brother and my selfe, alas, the while,\n Vnto his hopes to make the passage free,\n Were markt for death, nor could our sad exile\n Suffice hard fate, my wofull tragedie\n Must be the subiect of his treacherie,\n We were the obiects of proud _Godwin\u2019s_ frowne,\n We only stood betwixt him and the crowne.\n\n 19.\n\n T\u2019effect his purpose, he did soone excite\n The tyrant king, whose actions he did sway,\n To thinke, that while mine eyes beheld heau\u2019n\u2019s light,\n He liu\u2019d in reach of danger day by day,\n His safetie liu\u2019d vpon my liue\u2019s decay:\n For I, he said, being of an haughtie spirit,\n Would seeke by might my father\u2019s right t\u2019inherit.\n\n 20.\n\n The bastard king to bloodie deeds inclin\u2019d,\n To rob me of my life stood fully bent:\n Letters forthwith by messengers design\u2019d,\n Forged by wicked wits for their intent,\n In our queene mother\u2019s name to me were sent,\n Which I accepted as vnfain\u2019d and true,\n The tenor of the which doth heere ensue.\n\n 21.\n\n \u201cEmma, but only England\u2019s queene in name,\n _Edward_ and _Alfred_, her two sonnes doth greet\n From England\u2019s chiefest peeres, who do reclaime\n You both from exile, and do thinke it meet,\n That you in Normandie should rigge some fleet,\n And crosse the seas your father\u2019s right to claime,\n They all will be assistant in the same.\n\n 22.\n\n Strike the hard steele, while yet the fire is in,\n Slip not occasion put into your hand,\n The tyrant _Harrold_ daily seekes to win\n The peeres vnto his aid, who yet will stand\n In your defence, and hazard life and land:\n Then come with speed, for warre we will prepare,\n The way is plaine, the time doth proffer faire.\u201d\n\n 23.\n\n This in effect their letters testifie,\n Which did my forward thoughts so much excite,\n That though my brother then in Hungarie\n Were absent farre, yet to obtaine our right,\n I tooke the seas with many a Norman knight:\n But cursed be that voyage euermoe\n Whose end did end my life with bitter woe.\n\n 24.\n\n Woe worth the ground, where grew the towring mast,\n Whose sailes did beare vs through the water\u2019s rore,\n Woe worth the winde, that blew the banefull blast,\n Woe worth the waue, whose surge so swiftlie bore\n My tragick barke to England\u2019s fatall shore,\n Woe worth the mast, the sailes, winde, waues and all,\n That causelesse did conspire poore _Alfrede\u2019s_ fall.\n\n 25.\n\n Why were not they by cruell fates assign\u2019d\n To giue that due to death? which death did craue,\n On ragged rockes, O why did I not finde\n A milder death? why was the darksome waue\n Vpon my way not made my bodie\u2019s graue?\n Ah why, why did they let my forward feete\n Once touch the shore, such cruell death to meete?\n\n 26.\n\n After our ships had brought vs to the shore\n And giuen vs vp as captiues to the land,\n At Guilford downe, a place so call\u2019d of yore,\n A fatall place to me, did _Godwin_ stand\n To entertaine me and my Norman band,\n Who with the shew of true fidelitie\n Did maske the face of his false treacherie.\n\n 27.\n\n He did imbrace me round with treason\u2019s armes,\n And fawnd vpon me with a villaine\u2019s smile,\n His lookes were blith to hide his purposde harmes,\n His words, which graced were with sugred stile,\n Made musike in mine eares, and to beguile\n Suspition\u2019s self a solemne vow he made\n Against all aduerse power my part to aide.\n\n 28.\n\n At Guilford he gaue counsell as a friend\n To make abode with all my companie,\n For there hee said my fauorites did intend\n To meete me with their powers, who would applie\n Their best indeuours \u2019gainst mine enemie:\n In which being confident, with ioynt consent\n Of all my friends, I vnto Guilford went.\n\n 29.\n\n There did the chorus to proud Godwin\u2019s play\n First tell the sequele of my miserie,\n There first appear\u2019d the plot of my decay,\n There the sad scene of my black tragedie\n Was first begun by _Godwin\u2019s_ treacherie,\n And there my friends took hands in death and led\n The tragick daunce, which I did after tred.\n\n 30.\n\n When vnto Guilford with my troope I came,\n _Godwin_ of purpose did augment our traine,\n And for one place could not containe the same,\n Lodging in diuers Ins he did ordaine,\n Which might twice tenne or thirtie men containe,\n Which he before with _Harrold_ did deuise,\n The better to effect his enterprise.\n\n 31.\n\n Plentie, the childe of peace, in euerie house\n Did furnish out the tables with her store,\n _Ly\u00e6us_ fruitfull cup with full carowse\n Went round about, mirth stood at euerie doore,\n The oliue branch deceitfull treason bore,\n Vsing the voice of peace which sweet did sound,\n To vs at feast that were, in solace drown\u2019d.\n\n 32.\n\n The greedie gorge repleat with plentious feast,\n Besots the sense and duls the spritfull minde,\n Th\u2019infeebled braine with strength of wine opprest,\n Losing all quick conceit, soone waxed blinde,\n The depth of _Godwin\u2019s_ plots we could not finde:\n Deceit workes surest, where the wit before\n Hath weakned been by plentie\u2019s feastfull store.\n\n 33.\n\n This fatall banquet, that did then forerun\n The day that death put many soules to flight,\n To soone did end, too soone the golden sunne\n Fell to the ocean, and the dismall night\n Came vp from seas to work my foule despight,\n The woe which chearefull day before did hide\n To end our cheare, the night too soone descride.\n\n 34.\n\n When in my naked bed my limbes were laid\n And I enchain\u2019d in deepest sleepe did lie,\n The rufull clamors of my friends betray\u2019d\n Did ring about mine eares: with whose sad crie\n I rose from sleepe, and from my bed did flie:\n But by the armed men and doores fast made,\n My weapons gone, I knew I was betraid.\n\n 35.\n\n Then did I looke, when death would at the doore\n Come in, to sease my life with violent hand:\n My chamber shooke, my hart gan tremble sore,\n And as in horror I did silent stand,\n Vp flew the doores, in rusht an armed band,\n Who laid rude hands on me in spightfull hate,\n Without respect vnto my princelie state.\n\n 36.\n\n But when Aurora left her Tython\u2019s bed,\n And through each part of heau\u2019n disperst her light,\n My Norman friends fast bound in bands were led\n To Guilford downe, to whom in dolefull plight\n None gaue releefe, false _Godwin_ tooke delight\n With sight of their sad death his eyes to feed:\n Such sight would cause the hardest hart to bleed.\n\n 37.\n\n By casting lots they were ordain\u2019d for death:\n Of ten, still nine did beare the bitter fate,\n And in strange torture did expire their breath:\n The tenth reseru\u2019d did liue in wretched state\n Of bondage, till the day of finall date:\n And thus six hundred vnto death being done,\n All faithfull friends did my sad fall forerun.\n\n 38.\n\n My friends thus slain, through couert shades of night,\n That none to my abode might priuie be,\n Conuey\u2019d I was to th\u2019ile of Elie hight,\n There to abide, till _Harrold_ did decree,\n What kinde of death from thrall should set me free:\n Where I with care consum\u2019d for death did call\n Vntill a fate far worse then death did fall.\n\n 39.\n\n Then cause thy muse with me to mourne her fill,\n And all yee nightlie birds, that do appeare,\n As gastly signes, shrieke out your deadlie ill,\n Let all that wofull is and voide of cheere,\n That may augment my dole, to me draw neere,\n And helpe me with their vncouth companie\n To tune the song of my sad tragedie.\n\n 40.\n\n Despoil\u2019d by foes of all my princelie state,\n And lockt in dungeon deepe from sight of heauen,\n Sweete dame delight, with whom I liu\u2019d of late,\n Farre from my sad abode away was driuen,\n And carefull sorrow for companion giuen:\n The youthfull spring of my delight was done,\n And winter\u2019s state now in my youth begun.\n\n 41.\n\n And with the winter of my woes begun\n The frostie seasons winter bore apart,\n Whose vnkinde cold did through my bodie run,\n While gnawing hunger to increase my smart,\n For want of foode did feed vpon my hart:\n Thus I with cold and hunger long foreworne,\n Did nought but mourning pine and pining mourne.\n\n 42.\n\n My greene of youth with griefe\u2019s sad sighes was blasted,\n The sap of my life blood began decay,\n My flesh through fast and euill fare was wasted,\n My hart did faint, my strength did fleete awaie:\n Ah God that death oft wisht so long did stay,\n Why did not fates preuent my bloodie foes,\n And with keene knife in death cut of my woes?\n\n 43.\n\n My woes, alas, as yet were to begin:\n For though my foes were priuie to my cries,\n Yet could my rufull plaints no pitie winne,\n To take from me at length they did deuise,\n The last of all my comforts, both mine eyes:\n Ah cruell foes, too cruell were ye bent,\n Why could my death to you not yeeld content?\n\n 44.\n\n When first the instruments of _Harrold\u2019s_ ire\n Did come prepar\u2019d to rob me of my sight,\n Hoping that death, which I did long desire,\n Had then been sent to me, the last despight\n That can be done to man in wretched plight:\n These words I spake to moue remorse of mind,\n While teares in plentie downe my cheeks declin\u2019d.\n\n 45.\n\n \u201cThrice happie men, if ye the tidings bring\n Of happie death my dolefull daies to end,\n From whose long houres my lasting death doth spring,\n This last request to you I do commend,\n That pitying my sad plaints, you may befriend\n My wretched soule with quicke dispatch in death,\n And not with torture, when I yeeld my breath.\n\n 46.\n\n Behold this bodie pin\u2019d away with woe,\n This starued carkas in such rufull plight,\n That who, alas, can poore prince _Alfred_ know,\n These cheekes, whilome so full of fresh delight,\n Now wexed pale and wan, are dri\u2019d vp quite\n For want of dew: yet dew\u2019d with sad supplies\n Of mournefull teares still flowing from mine eies.\n\n 47.\n\n Yeeld then, O yeeld some comfort in this case,\n And do not yee augment my deadly smart,\n Ile hug sweet death, and with kind armes embrace\n His grizly shape, and wooe him with his dart\n To end my woes, by wounding my poore heart:\n Only make ye dispatch when ye begin,\n And heau\u2019ns impute it not to you for sin.\u201d\n\n 48.\n\n This did I speake, supposing they were come,\n With violent hands to make my life the prize\n Of wished death: but by more grieuous doome,\n I first adiudged was to lose mine eies:\n For while that vnto heau\u2019n with pitious cries\n Vpon their crueltie I did complaine,\n They reft me of my sight with bitter paine.\n\n 49.\n\n Thenceforth, as caytife cast in dungeon deepe,\n Where with fresh griefe my hart did hourely bleed,\n As Philomel that spends her time of sleepe\n In mournefull tunes recording his misdeed,\n Whose lust in wastefull woods her shame did breede,\n Night\u2019s endlesse houres till death did end the same,\n Against my foes I wasted in exclame.\n\n 50.\n\n Famine, the childe of want did feast my soule,\n And in my brest her hungrie arrow steepe,\n The black night\u2019s shreeking bird, the ghastlie oule\n With balefull notes in waking woe did keepe\n My greeued soule, when nature craued sleepe,\n With whose shrill shreekes my plaints did beare a part,\n And kept true time with sighes from sorrowing hart.\n\n 51.\n\n Sorrow and griefe with waste of teares drawne drie,\n Suppli\u2019d the place where eyes did once remaine,\n Whose want of teares my hart did still supplie\n With drops of blood, fresh bleeding with the paine\n Of wounding griefe which it did long sustaine,\n Of which impatient to despaire being driuen,\n Cursing my birth, I thus did crie to heauen.\n\n 52.\n\n Woe worth the wombe, which nature did inforce\n To bring me forth and leaue me in neglect:\n Woe worth the starre, that did direct my course,\n If anie starre the course of life direct:\n Woe worth the houre, which did my birth detect:\n Woe to you all, that did conspire with foes\n To drowne my better dayes in bitter woes.\n\n 53.\n\n Why do I liue? ah, why liue I the space,\n Of half a day in this my mournefull mew?\n Why doth grim death so often shew his face?\n The woefull waste in me why doth he view\n Of nature\u2019s worke: and yet not craue his due?\n Why do I liue, yet daylie die with paine?\n Why do I die, yet daylie liue againe?\n\n 54.\n\n To you therefore ye heau\u2019ns, whose cheerefull face\n With mortall eyes I neuer more shall see,\n To you and all your powers I crie for grace:\n Let me, ah let me now no longer be,\n But by swift death from foes do set me free:\n My dayes be ouer long, for death I crie,\n End then my dayes (O God) and let me die.\n\n 55.\n\n Wanting the salue of patience, wherewithall\n To cure the sore of sorrow growne so rife\n In my grieu\u2019d hart, thus forc\u2019d I was to call\n For death to launch the wound with his sharpe knife,\n Which griefe had festerd in my loathed life:\n Who in his horrid shape himselfe did show\n To me poore wretch, with too much paine and woe.\n\n 56.\n\n For death at last with such vnkinde constraint\n Did force my soule from th\u2019house of her vnrest,\n That neuer prince had cause of more complaint:\n Nature\u2019s vnkindest children will detest\n My death\u2019s vnkindnesse, and the flintest brest\n Wil learne t\u2019expire sad sighes with sorrow\u2019s breath,\n To heare me tell the manner of my death.\n\n 57.\n\n From thence, where in grim darknesse I did dwell,\n I forth was fetch\u2019t, and by my foes that been\n First stript I was, and then (O woe to tell)\n My wombe was opened with a rasor keene,\n With paine of which downe sinking, I did weene\n That then my gasping ghost would haue expir\u2019d\n The breath of life, which I so oft desir\u2019d.\n\n 58.\n\n But after grieuous groane, when as my sprite\n With feeling sense reuiued was againe,\n My sterne tormentors, seeming to delite\n In this their bloodie game, while I in vaine\n Did beg dispatch of my tormenting paine,\n With vnremorsefull hands againe began\n T\u2019inflict more woes on me most woefull man.\n\n 59.\n\n At that smart wound, which in my wombe they made,\n One of my intrailes ends they forth did take,\n Which, out alas, (that ere it should be said\n Of any prince) they fasten to a stake,\n And with sharpe needles (yet my ghost doth quake\n To thinke on it) my tender sides they wound\n About the stake to make me go around.\n\n 60.\n\n With painfull wounds they wound me in each part,\n When still I stood to ease me of such woe,\n Yet worse then painfull wounds increast my smart\n As oft as I about the stake did go,\n Then in this pitious plight, what should I do?\n Death\u2019s touch I felt: yet by my foes made blind,\n The readie way to death I could not find.\n\n 61.\n\n At length my soule vnable to withstand\n Th\u2019afflictions of my foes, in heart made stout\n With torment of my wounds, I hand in hand\n Went on with death that deadly stake about,\n Vntill my bowels being winded out,\n With death I fell, and in that fall did find\n An end of woe, an end of griefe of mind.\n\n 62.\n\n Men light of credence warned be by me,\n To deeme no profer\u2019d friendship firme and sure,\n Till truth haue triall made, for flatterie\n Makes fained loue the fittest cloake t\u2019obscure\n Falsehood from truth, which practise puts in vre,\n Of which that henceforth I a Mirrour bee,\n My storie told, I leaue it vnto thee.\n\n\n\n\n THE TREACHEROVS\n\n _Life and infamous Death of Godwin_,\n\n Earle of Kent.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cThe banefull plot of Godwin\u2019s treacherie,\n And _Alfred\u2019s_ rufull end,\u201d quoth Memorie,\n \u201cWith doubt may shake a weake belieuing mind,\n Which to resolue, no better proofe I find\n Then _Godwin\u2019s_ selfe, who in his turne shall tell\n After prince _Alfred\u2019s_ death, what him befell,\n How he in seruice of _Canute_ his king,\n In forren warres himselfe in grace did bring,\n How he in state did rise, with what increase\n Of noble issue, heau\u2019n his house did blesse,\n His life produc\u2019d to length of many yeares,\n Foure kings he serues, in _Edward\u2019s_ daies appeares\n His treason t\u2019_Alfred_, till that time conceal\u2019d,\n Which by the hand of heau\u2019n is then reueal\u2019d,\n His oath, his periurie, bread stops his breath,\n Heau\u2019n plagues his issue for prince _Alfred\u2019s_ death,\n The truth of which, that we at large may heare,\n Let fame\u2019s trumpe cause his guiltie ghost t\u2019appeare.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n _Godwin_ as guiltie tels th\u2019ambitious ayme\n Of his desire, first cause of all his shame.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n Faire fall the steps, that happily do end\n Their course begun in vertue\u2019s painfull race,\n Many begin that steepie hill t\u2019ascend,\n Where vertue dwels; but few do find such grace\n As not to faint, ere they attaine that place,\n To tread the path of praise I first begunne,\n But lost true praise, which I did weene t\u2019haue wonne.\n\n 2.\n\n Ambition tooke me by the haplesse hand,\n And with delight led me another way,\n Both blood and treason in my way did stand,\n Which heau\u2019n with vengeance failes not to repay,\n Although reuenge of men escape they may:\n Of which that I a Mirrour be, giue eare,\n And in thy mind my fatall storie beare.\n\n 3.\n\n I am that _Godwin_, sometimes earle of Kent,\n Who with king _Harrold_ did conspire to shed\n Prince _Alfred\u2019s_ blood, which I too late repent:\n For whereas I vpon the glorious bed\n Of spotlesse honor, might haue laid my hed,\n This one blacke deed of my false treacherie,\n Doth brand my name with spot of infamie.\n\n 4.\n\n If from that way, my steps had neuer strai\u2019d,\n Which in my youthfull daies I first did tread,\n My famous acts, which now are all decai\u2019d,\n Had liu\u2019d in lines of gold, and in the stead,\n Of foule defame, with praise had crown\u2019d my head:\n But partiall fame lets passe our deeds of praise,\n Our worser deed she keepes for future daies.\n\n 5.\n\n When bold _Canutus_, that victorious king,\n O\u2019er Danes and English did in triumph raigne,\n Desire did set my youthfull thoughts on wing\n In pursuit of renowne, which to attaine,\n From pleasure\u2019s idle bed I did refraine:\n Ease duls the sprite, each drop of fond delight\n Allaies the thirst, which glorie doth excite.\n\n 6.\n\n About this time we being secure of warre,\n Fame by report did giue to vnderstand,\n That the bold Vandale threatned to inferre,\n Such strong inuasion both by seas and land\n Vpon the Danes, that all the force of hand,\n That they for warre could make, would scarce suffice\n To giue repulse vnto their enemies.\n\n 7.\n\n Which when _Canute_ did heare, his Danish force\n He mustred vp, and I inspir\u2019d by fame,\n Troopt vp my Kentish friends, both foot and horse,\n With whom deckt in braue armes and skill\u2019d in frame\n Of varied fight, vnto _Canute_ I came,\n With whom to Denmarke I design\u2019d did goe,\n Conductor of the English \u2019gainst the foe.\n\n 8.\n\n The seas we launcht, but long we had not wau\u2019d,\n Vpon the deepe, when all our ships did scatter,\n Proud Nereus fom\u2019d, the sea lookt blacke and rau\u2019d,\n The billowes rude rouz\u2019d into hils of water,\n Cuffe after cuffe the earth\u2019s greene bankes did batter,\n Which with their force our scattered nauie bore\n In great distresse about the Norway shore.\n\n 9.\n\n Tost to and fro, the storme at length ore-blowen,\n We did arriue vpon the Danish coast,\n Where, in the field the Vandale dreadlesse growen,\n Their valours to auouch, did vaunt and boast\n Of spoiles and captiues in their conquering host,\n \u2019Twixt whom and vs the fight had then begun,\n Had night, to part the fray, not twixt vs run.\n\n 10.\n\n The night, that giues each deathlesse creature rest,\n In chaines of darknesse all the earth did bind,\n And in our tents, each one as seem\u2019d him best,\n Did passe the time: but in my labouring mind\n Nor rest, nor sleepe could entertainment find,\n Care kept me waking, how I best might bring\n My selfe in credit with _Canute_ the king.\n\n 11.\n\n The time, I thought, did fit occasion yeeld,\n The foes with fond neglect of vs at shore\n Did sleepe secure, dispread about the field,\n Their guard slight kept, their men were wearied sore\n With hunting after spoile the day before,\n Whom to _Canute_ vnknowne could we confound,\n Our names I thought, would euer be renown\u2019d.\n\n 12.\n\n These thoughts, but newly borne in my great mind,\n By secret messengers I did conuent,\n The English chiefetaines all, whom I did find\n In heart so well inclin\u2019d, that all were bent\n With readie hands to strengthen my intent,\n And in each point their minds to mine did frame\n For this affaire, all thirsting after fame.\n\n 13.\n\n Our English quarter, which did vtmost lie,\n We vndescri\u2019d, drew forth, and on our way\n With silence we did passe, the windes blew high,\n And night her darksome wings did wide display,\n Lest th\u2019aduerse scout our purpose might bewray:\n So forth we went, and gain\u2019d with good euent,\n The drowsie Vandale\u2019s vtmost regiment.\n\n 14.\n\n The outward watch, and courts of guard being slaine,\n Through all their rankes by slaughter making way,\n We did at length their fatall tents attaine,\n In which, as in neglect they sleeping lay,\n Without respect all went the common way,\n That leads to death, as well the noble kind\n As the ignoble, were in death confin\u2019d.\n\n 15.\n\n Then was th\u2019alarum giuen, and euery where\n The foes with fearefull shouts did pierce the skie,\n Heere one affrighted silent stands, and there\n Another dreading death doth mercie crie,\n Heere one cries stand, another there bids flie:\n In euery place death\u2019s terrour did abound,\n And all on heapes our foes we did confound.\n\n 16.\n\n At length, troopt vp in haste the foes made head,\n Twixt whom and vs ensu\u2019d a deadly fight,\n Grim death in darknesse hid, did bring more dread\n With his approch, the foes, through sable night,\n Their friends from foes could not discerne aright,\n In which distresse vnable long to shield\n Their campe from spoile, they fled and left the field.\n\n 17.\n\n Darknesse suborn\u2019d their flight, and did preuent\n Our purpos\u2019d pursuit for th\u2019intended chase,\n Their campe laid waste, we found in euery tent\n Rich spoile and captiues, men of no meane place,\n With more renowne our deed of worth to grace,\n Of which _Canute_ our king did nothing know,\n Vntill the morning\u2019s light our deeds did show.\n\n 18.\n\n For when in east Aurora did appeare,\n _Canute_ intending to begin the fight,\n When he of our supposed flight did heare,\n In rage he vow\u2019d reuenge for such despight,\n And forth in furie marcht: but when in sight\n The Vandale\u2019s campe appear\u2019d despoil\u2019d with fire,\n And all their host dispers\u2019d, he gan admire.\n\n 19.\n\n The Danes, in troopes all gathered, stood amaz\u2019d\n To see through what great dangers we had run,\n Vpon the slaughtered Vandales wounds they gaz\u2019d,\n Vpon the captiues and the rich spoiles wonne,\n Applauding all with praise, what we had done,\n The king himselfe, in heaping praise on praise,\n The worth of this our deed on high did raise.\n\n 20.\n\n The good successe of this high conquest won,\n My name in credit with the Dane did bring:\n And to encrease this honor new begun\n In th\u2019horrid warre betwixt the Norway king\n And prince _Canute_, of which the world did ring,\n I by my deeds vpon the Norway coast,\n Did saue _Canutus_ and his fainting host.\n\n 21.\n\n When _Olauus_ and _Vlfe_ those brothers stout,\n With their Norwegians in a dangerous fight,\n Against _Canute_ successefully had fought,\n I with my English souldiers in his sight\n Regain\u2019d againe, what he had lost by flight,\n And forc\u2019d proud _Olauus_ to flie the field,\n Who to our king his crowne did after yeeld.\n\n 22.\n\n Grac\u2019d in all warre affaires without mischance,\n With king _Canute_ in such great grace I came,\n That he, my name and fortunes to aduance,\n His sister gaue to me for wife, whose name\n Hight _Thira_ faire, a ladie of great fame,\n Whom I with earnest suite did often proue,\n And in the end obtain\u2019d her for my loue.\n\n 23.\n\n Thus with auspitious lookes the heau\u2019ns beheld,\n The new borne infant of my towring state,\n Which growing vp, with proud ambition swell\u2019d,\n Flattering it selfe with hope of happier fate,\n Which to obtaine I long did lie in wait,\n And left at length true honor\u2019s path to tred,\n To trace the footing which ambition led.\n\n 24.\n\n When death did end _Canutus\u2019_ life and raigne,\n I standing in contention, t\u2019whom the right\n Of England\u2019s vnswai\u2019d empire should remaine,\n _Canute\u2019s_ base sonne, ambitious _Harrold_ hight,\n Did step into the throne in my despight,\n Being backt by diuers peeres, that sought to clime\n By his support in this new change of time.\n\n 25.\n\n \u2019Gainst whom I stood with fained loyaltie\n To those two princes, sonnes of _Egelred_,\n The true borne heires to England\u2019s emperie:\n In which affaire, had fortune false not fled\n And turn\u2019d her backe, the crowne had grac\u2019d my hed:\n For had I gain\u2019d the garland in their name,\n Neither of them should haue enioy\u2019d the same.\n\n 26.\n\n But al-seeing heau\u2019n, that did my drift perceiue,\n To take effect would not permit the same,\n Those strong built holds I was constrain\u2019d to leaue,\n In which defiance I did first proclame,\n Against the bastard in prince _Alfred\u2019s_ name:\n Wherefore my oath I vnto _Harrold_ past,\n To be true liegeman, while my life did last.\n\n 27.\n\n Yet did not this my mounting thoughts beat downe,\n Nor quell the pride of my aspiring mind,\n My heart still aim\u2019d at England\u2019s royall crowne,\n Aspiring hope did th\u2019eies of reason blind,\n To all impietie I was inclin\u2019d,\n Of which prince _Alfred_, whom would I had neuer\n Betray\u2019d to death, a Mirrour liues for euer.\n\n 28.\n\n The maner of whose death I shame to tell,\n Such was the cruell torment of the same,\n And such the noble vertues, that did dwell\n In th\u2019heart of that sweet prince, whose liuing name\n To all posteritie records my shame,\n The more his vertues were, whose blood I spilt,\n Remorselesse wretch, the greater was my guilt.\n\n 29.\n\n Curst be the gracelesse heart\u2019s vnswayed pride,\n Which tempted me to act so foule a deed,\n Why as at first did not faire vertue guide\n My steps in path of praise? why in her steed,\n All grace abolisht, did foule vice succeed?\n With state and greatnesse, vertue seldome dwels,\n State fosters pride, pride all good grace expels.\n\n 30.\n\n After the murder of this guiltlesse man,\n Long time I flourisht with prosperitie,\n In slothfull _Harrold\u2019s_ daies my house began\n With many valiant sonnes to multiplie,\n Who after came to great authoritie,\n Of whom hereafter I intend to tell,\n Hearken meane while what vnto me befell.\n\n 31.\n\n Hearken ye glory-thirsting men, and heare\n Iudgement of wreakful wrath powr\u2019d downe by Ioue\n On me, and on my house, that all may feare,\n Aspiring honor\u2019s height those plots to proue,\n To which vaine pride the heart doth often moue,\n Of which, both I, and all my progenie,\n May Mirrours be to all posteritie.\n\n 32.\n\n When _Harrold_ had, the tearme of three yeares space,\n Vpon the English throne borne supreame sway,\n He dying left a name of foule disgrace,\n T\u2019obtaine true fame, he neuer gaue th\u2019assay,\n His idle life in sloth did fleet away:\n In houres of ease, who euer spends his daies\n To future time, leaues seldome any praise.\n\n 33.\n\n Vpon the throne, his brother did succeed\n Prince _Hardiknute_, _Canutus\u2019_ lawfull sonne,\n Whom I did feare, lest for my bloodie deed\n By his edict, I should to death be done,\n Which I in lawfull triall could not shun,\n To murdred _Alfred_ he was borne halfe brother,\n Got by _Canute_ on _Emma_ his queene mother.\n\n 34.\n\n Yet I being right expert in euery thing,\n Which did pertaine to subtile policie,\n Both tooke a solemne oth before the king,\n That I from guilt of _Alfred\u2019s_ blood was free,\n With which his friends had often charged mee:\n And also, that mine oth might fauour finde,\n With golden gifts I did corrupt his minde.\n\n 35.\n\n If that the powre of gold doe conquer kings,\n Corrupts the noble, and deceaues the wise,\n Subdues the valiant: yea, the brother brings\n To sell his brother\u2019s blood for golden prize,\n Wherewith to glut his greedie auarice:\n No maruell then, if that my gold did bring\n This fained oth in credit with the king.\n\n 36.\n\n Of _Hardiknute_ this fauour I did finde,\n I liu\u2019d in grace and great felicitie,\n To me the rule of all things hee resign\u2019d,\n He onely kept his kinglie dignitie,\n All things were swaid by my authoritie:\n But after two yeares space, by suddaine death\n In midst of mirth, he lost his vitall breath.\n\n 37.\n\n Being at a feast vpon a solemne day,\n At Lambeth house, within the bishop\u2019s place,\n With cup in hand his life did fleet away,\n To ground he fell and did cold death imbrace,\n Leauing few friends to waile his woefull case:\n In loue of drinke he liu\u2019d, in drinke he dide:\n Such drunken death oft drunkards doe betide.\n\n 38.\n\n Prince _Edward_, _Alfred\u2019s_ brother, he being dead,\n Was left the lawfull heire vnto the crowne,\n Which I did claime as due from _Edgelred_,\n And on his seeming foes I seem\u2019d to frowne,\n That sought with violent hands to pluck him downe:\n For well I did perceaue, he being king,\n To good effect my purpose I should bring.\n\n 39.\n\n Zealous he was, and did so much delight\n In sacred precepts of pure sanctitie,\n That farre more fit he seem\u2019d in all men\u2019s sight,\n To liue religious in a friarie,\n Then sway the sceptor of a monarchie:\n Yet seing the right did vnto him pertaine,\n He was permitted ouer vs to reigne.\n\n 40.\n\n Vpon whose minde more pliable to yeeld\n To rule of others, then to rule alone,\n The hope of future fortune I did build,\n And after him, vnknowne to anie one,\n I laid my plot to step into the throne:\n For vnto him my daughter I did wed,\n Twixt whom I knew would be a barren bed.\n\n 41.\n\n Although the choycest eye could not select\n A virgin with more sweets of beautie fild:\n Yet for in hart he iustlie did suspect\n His brother _Alfred\u2019s_ blood by me was spild,\n Her beautie with delight he nere beheld,\n My dreaded power, which might haue dangerous beene\n To his estate, was cause he made her queene.\n\n 42.\n\n Whereby in future time my valiant sonne,\n My _Harrold_ stout a title did pretend\n Vnto the crowne, who by his valor wonne\n High credit with the king, who in the end\n So far to him his fauour did extend,\n That after his decease, he did ordaine\n The crowne and kingdome should to him remaine.\n\n 43.\n\n Thus did I sit in top of fortune\u2019s wheele,\n Knit to the royall blood of England\u2019s crowne,\n Till death did strike, mischance I nere did feele,\n Fortune at my successe did neuer frowne,\n Who in the hight of pride pluckes manie downe:\n Dreadlesse I liu\u2019d, being dreaded still of all,\n Fearing no lucklesse chance, that might befall.\n\n 44.\n\n Beneath the sway of my securefull power\n I from the king my guilt did long conceale\n Of _Alfred\u2019s_ death, vntill that fatall houre,\n When fate appointed did my soule appeale,\n And in my death my bloodie deed reueale:\n Blood for due vengeance neuer calls in vaine,\n Heau\u2019n will reuenge, when we remisse remaine.\n\n 45.\n\n Once sitting at the table with the king,\n My son, whose office was the cup to beare,\n By chance did stumble, as he did it bring,\n And lightlie did himself againe vpreare,\n At which by me these speeches spoken were:\n \u201cHa, ha, my liege,\u201d said I, \u201csee how one brother\n In time of need can well sustaine the other.\u201d\n\n 46.\n\n To which the king return\u2019d this sterne replie\n With browes contract, signes of his angrie minde,\n \u201cMost true it is,\u201d said he, \u201cand so should I\n My louing brother _Alfred_ liuing finde\n To helpe me now, but for thy self vnkinde.\u201d\n With which neere toucht: yet all distrust to shun,\n Bread streight I took, and thus my oth begun.\n\n 47.\n\n \u201cThis bread,\u201d quoth I, \u201cI neuer wish to take\n Downe through this throat into my hollow chest,\n But choaking me, God grant, that it may make\n My death a scandall, to my soule vnblest,\n Which heav\u2019n henceforth for euer may detest,\n If I your brother _Alfred_ did betray,\n Or gaue consent to take his life away.\u201d\n\n 48.\n\n No sooner had I spoke, and taken bread,\n But of the heauens, my wish I did obtaine,\n Vnto the ground I instantlie fell dead,\n While yet the bread did in my throate remaine,\n Through which to passe, the breath did striue in vaine:\n In death did heau\u2019n detect my villanie,\n In death did vengeance iustlie seise on mee.\n\n 49.\n\n Which in my suddaine downefall tooke not end,\n This dreadfull iudgement could not satisfie\n The wrath of righteous Ioue, who did intend\n The extirpation of my progenie,\n In the reuenge of _Alfred\u2019s_ tragedie,\n With seu\u2019n sonnes done to death, all valiant men,\n My name did vade, as it had neuer ben.\n\n 50.\n\n My eldest sonne, hight _Swaine_, in his rash moode\n With rage incen\u2019st, with his vnhappie hand,\n Did beast-like spill his vncle _Byorn\u2019s_ blood,\n For which a pilgrim to the holie land\n He was inioyn\u2019d by churche\u2019s strict command:\n Where rouing Saracens vpon the way,\n With murther did his vncle\u2019s death repay.\n\n 51.\n\n The next was _Harrold_, who in _Edward\u2019s_ reigne,\n After my death grew famous in this land,\n Manie great victories he did obtaine\n Against the Welsh, who with rebellious hand\n Against the king themselues did proudlie band:\n For which in name and fame he was renown\u2019d,\n And by the king with manie merits crown\u2019d.\n\n 52.\n\n But the third brother did thereat enuie,\n _Tostie_ by name, a man of mickle pride,\n Which when his brother _Harrold_ did espie,\n His angrie hart did swell, and rage did guide\n That reason, which doth man and beast diuide:\n For on a time inrag\u2019d with anger\u2019s sting,\n They fell at ods in presence of the king.\n\n 53.\n\n Where _Harrold_ caught young _Tostie_ by the haire,\n And with his fist did smite him on the face:\n But by well-wishing friends they parted were:\n Yet _Tostie_ in his minde for such disgrace,\n Did vowe reuenge in more conuenient place,\n And forthwith from the court with angrie looke,\n To _Harrold\u2019s_ house his readie way he tooke.\n\n 54.\n\n Where when hee came, the seruants hee did finde\n Preparing all things for the king\u2019s repaire,\n On whom he wreak\u2019d the vengeance of his minde:\n For not a man his wrathfull sword did spare,\n In his reuenge they all alike did share:\n Yet could not this his furie\u2019s heat asswage,\n Their limmes he hew\u2019d in peeces in his rage.\n\n 55.\n\n Which he amongst the hogsheads of pure wine,\n Vessels of ale and cydar did bestow,\n And in the lomes of meath, and tubs of brine,\n And other sorts of liquor he did throw\n Heads, legs, and armes, whence yet warme blood did flow:\n Then sent he word, that at his brother\u2019s house\n The king should find good store of poudered sowce.\n\n 56.\n\n For which offence, he was exilde the land,\n And _Harrold_ after _Edward_ as his right\n The crowne did claime, \u2019gainst whom no peere did stand:\n Yet _Tostie_ did the Norway king excite,\n In battaile gainst his brother for to fight,\n In which by _Harrold_ vpon Stamford plaine,\n Both _Tostie_ and the Norway king were slaine.\n\n 57.\n\n Stout _Harrold_ in the field his death\u2019s wound tooke,\n With his two bretheren _Girth_ and _Leowin_,\n At Battaile abbey \u2019gainst the Norman duke:\n For in ist iudgement then did heau\u2019n begin\n To plague this land for my detested sinne,\n Which from that time twice thirtie yeares and foure,\n With Norman bondage was oppressed sore.\n\n 58.\n\n Thus by decree of fate without remorse\n By the keene sword fiue sonnes to death\u2019s doome past,\n The sixt in riding on a head-strong horse\n Into the siluer Thames dark deepe was cast,\n In which his soule the pangs of death did taste:\n The seuenth and last was in close prison kept,\n Vntill in death the conquering Norman slept.\n\n 59.\n\n Yet heere heau\u2019ns heauie iudgement did not end,\n My wretched mother, though forworne and old,\n Vntimely fell, who, while she liu\u2019d, did send\n Yong dames to Denmarke, where for gaine of gold,\n Their virgin beauties vnto lust were sold,\n For which offence, to all the world a wonder,\n She stricken was from heau\u2019n by horrid thunder.\n\n 60.\n\n And that on earth, my shame might neuer die,\n The sea\u2019s proud waues haue ouerrun my lands,\n Which did of yore by Sandwich hauen lie,\n Where now bound vp in Neptune\u2019s watrie bands,\n They at this day are called _Godwin_ sands,\n And since are made of pasture-springing-ground,\n A dangerous gulfe the sea-man to confound.\n\n 61.\n\n Thus for prince _Alfred\u2019s_ blood, which I did shed,\n Ioue in the tempest of his wrathfull mood,\n Powr\u2019d downe his wracke vpon my wretched hed:\n Of all foule ils most aduerse vnto good,\n Vengeance pursues the blushing sinne of blood,\n Blood out of earth with cries importunes heau\u2019n\n To grant reuenge, vntill reuenge be giuen.\n\n 62.\n\n Vnto a sinfull wight, though time do seeme\n With wings of waste his shame away to wipe,\n Although the king of heau\u2019n secure he deeme:\n Yet when his sore of sinne is waxen ripe,\n Of his smart scourge he feeles the bitter stripe,\n The truth whereof, that I may testifie,\n Amongst thy Mirrours place my tragedie.\n\n\n\n\n THE LIFE AND DEATH\n\n _of Robert svrnamed Cvrthose_,\n\n Duke of Normandie.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cWhen Ioue,\u201d said Memorie, \u201cfor Normans slaine\n Through _Godwin\u2019s_ treason vpon Guilford plaine,\n From English birth his wreake would not reuoke,\n But made it stoope to conquering _William\u2019s_ yoke:\n In that sad time, that noble prince I find\n Most worthie of record, that Norman blind,\n The stout duke _Robert_, who in th\u2019hopefull spring\n Of his greene youth, rebels against the king,\n His hopes deluded sets his heart on fire,\n He fights succesfully against his sire,\n Is absent, when his father leaues to liue,\n Who to his second sonne the crowne doth giue,\n The duke returnes, finds _Rufus_ on the throne,\n Both rise in armes, but gold doth make th\u2019attone,\n _Robert_ to Palestine with _Godfrey_ goes,\n Wins fame in field against the Pagan foes,\n Hearing of _Rufus\u2019_ death, he thence returnes,\n Finds _Henrie_ king, with indignation burnes,\n Meets him in field to wreake it with his sword,\n But peeres on either part make them accord,\n After in peace they liue like brethren,\n The duke\u2019s kind nature wronged by the queene,\n Againe he armes him to reuenge his wrong,\n Fights with the king, whose part he finds too strong:\n In fight is taken and to Cardiffe sent,\n Where long captiu\u2019d, in seeking to preuent\n The fate of loathed thrall by secret flight,\n He taken is, and is depriu\u2019d of sight,\n And after with long life in thrall opprest,\n He pines away with hunger and vnrest,\n Whose princely ghost let fame from graue vpraise\n To make those deeds a Mirrour for our daies.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n The Norman prince tels fame, how he was borne\n To be a king, yet dies a duke forlorne.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n In that great booke of Ioue\u2019s decrees in heau\u2019n,\n Compiled ere time had any wings to moue,\n The wofull wight, to whom blacke fate is giuen,\n To cancell it in vaine doth after proue,\n No change of time can change the will of Ioue,\n What power so potent is, that can controle\n The first decree that he did there inrole.\n\n 2.\n\n Let fortune hold a crowne aboue thy head,\n And at it with wit\u2019s best direction aime,\n Rise to it royally from honor\u2019s bed,\n Iustly deserue it for thy deeds of fame:\n Yet shall thy carefull brow nere beare the same,\n If thou in that star-text of euery thing\n Foredoom\u2019d for fate, be not inrol\u2019d a king.\n\n 3.\n\n Of which that thou a lasting Mirror haue,\n Behold me heere a wretched prince of yore,\n To whom true birth a crowne and kingdome gaue,\n Whom vertue did inrich with all her store\n Of goodly gifts, to make me fit therefore,\n Of which depriu\u2019d by destinie\u2019s decree,\n Woe and alas was only left to mee.\n\n 4.\n\n Behold this feeble bodie pin\u2019d away\n With hunger\u2019s waste, which once so stoutly bore\n Our Sauiour\u2019s badge in many a bold assay:\n Behold the place where eyes haue stood before,\n Now filled vp with blacke congealed gore:\n Behold blind _Beauchampe_ duke of Normandie,\n New crept from graue to tell his tragedie.\n\n 5.\n\n A prince I was borne of the Norman blood,\n To that victorious king the eldest sonne,\n Who with his Normans, like a furious flood\n From southerne seas did England ouerrun,\n And to his heires the golden garland wonne,\n Though heau\u2019ns and fortune neuer would agree,\n That of the same I should possessor bee.\n\n 6.\n\n When fortune\u2019s gentle hand had set the crowne\n Vpon his happie head, when all assaies\n Of his bold foes in field were beaten downe,\n To me his eldest borne my state to raise,\n The Norman dukedome with such long delaies\n Assigned was, that I being set on fire\n For such protract, turn\u2019d rebell \u2019gainst my sire.\n\n 7.\n\n Like lustie Phaeton, that gaue th\u2019assay,\n To guide the head-strong horses of the sunne,\n Puft vp with pride to seeke his owne decay,\n Gainst conquering _William_ his rebellious sonne,\n T\u2019aspire the dukedome violently begun,\n And fier\u2019d with heat of gaysome youth did venter,\n With warlike troopes the Norman coast to enter.\n\n 8.\n\n The false French _Philip_ dreading euery houre,\n The towring state of my vnconquer\u2019d sire,\n Gaue life to my attempt, and sent a powre\n Of tall strong men, as fuell for the fire\n Of my ambition, lest I should retire,\n And faint in pursuit of the warre begun,\n Betwixt my sire and me his gracelesse sonne.\n\n 9.\n\n As th\u2019hungrie flame growen powerfull by degrees,\n And flying on wings of winde throughout a wood,\n With thirstie tongue lickes vp the leauie trees,\n Or as the rising of some stormie flood:\n So blinded with neglect of humane good,\n My natiue Normandie I did inuade,\n Making her soile the spoile of Mars his blade.\n\n 10.\n\n To whose distresse the wrathfull conqueror came\n Through sea\u2019s rough waues, wilde furie was his guide,\n Cursing my birth, \u2019gainst me he did exclame,\n And in reuenge affection set aside,\n He vow\u2019d to scourge my most vnnaturall pride,\n Setting his second birth yong _Rufus_ hight,\n Before me in his loue, and in my right.\n\n 11.\n\n At Archenbraie, both battels first did braue\n Each other with proud proffer for the fight,\n There th\u2019ensignes with the wanton winde did waue,\n The plume-deckt helmes with gold all horrid bright,\n With pale reflection glitter\u2019d in the light,\n And 'bout both hosts in troopes the horsemen stood\n Like loftie cedars in a thicke-set wood.\n\n 12.\n\n When as the trumpe the banefull blast begunne,\n In clamorous noise we clos\u2019d on either side,\n Brother \u2019gainst brother, father \u2019gainst the sonne\n Themselues oppos\u2019d, nature in fight defi\u2019d\n Euen nature\u2019s selfe, the sun in heau\u2019n did hide\n His glorious head, denying vs his light,\n As lothing to behold so strange a sight.\n\n 13.\n\n The soules of mortall men were put to flight,\n Blacke deeds of death each one did vndergo,\n Need boldned cowards, hope gaue wings to might,\n And made each one his best strength to bestow,\n To purchase fame by downefall of his foe,\n Death set on foot ran round about the field,\n Whole troopes of men t\u2019her conquering stroke did yeeld.\n\n 14.\n\n In th\u2019heate of fight, I caus\u2019d a troope of horse\n To breake vpon the rereward of the foe,\n Who brauely gaue the charge, and with such force\n Their fainting troopes in heapes did ouerthrow,\n That they their rankes were forced to forgo,\n Whom I well mounted on a tall strong steed,\n To the maine battell did pursue with speed.\n\n 15.\n\n Where vnder th\u2019ensigne of his royall armes,\n T\u2019encounter with the king it was my chance,\n Who bent with his owne hands, to wreake his harmes,\n Did fiercely charge me with his well-aim\u2019d lance,\n \u2019Gainst whom vnknowne my selfe I did aduance,\n And in my winged course with staffe in rest,\n I gaue the charge vpon his royall brest.\n\n 16.\n\n But heau\u2019n did calme false fortune\u2019s threatfull brow,\n And did auert the point of my sharpe speare:\n Yet by his ribs the flesh it vp did plow,\n And running through his arme made blood appeare,\n The stubborne staffe the king to ground did beare,\n Who falling from his horse in mind dismai\u2019d,\n Vnto his men aloud did call for aid.\n\n 17.\n\n The voice descri\u2019d my error, and with speed\n I downe dismounting to my royall sire,\n Did take him vp, and for my gracelesse deed\n His pardon vpon my knee, I did require,\n Pleading mistake t\u2019appease his kingly ire,\n Whom I remounted, and from field conuey\u2019d,\n Lest danger should his noble life inuade.\n\n 18.\n\n Meane time the horse troopes, who by me design\u2019d\n Gaue charge vpon the flankers of the foe,\n So beat the field about, that conquest shin\u2019d\n Vpon our helmes, slaughter and ouerthrow\n On the aduerse part inforc\u2019t such workes of woe,\n That all by flight sought saftie, none durst stay,\n _Rufus_ disgrac\u2019d, and wounded went his way.\n\n 19.\n\n Conquest in triumph on my brow did stand,\n Fame did renowne my sword in euerie place,\n Fortune with fame did ioyne her helping hand\n With my displeased sire to winne me grace,\n T\u2019whom nature pleaded my vnhappie case,\n And forc\u2019t him yeeld (that both in loue might liue)\n What reason would, and rage denide to giue.\n\n 20.\n\n Restor\u2019d to grace like Saturn\u2019s god-like sonne,\n To England I returned with the king,\n Where _Malcome_ in his absence had orerun\n The north from Tuuidale, where Tweed doth spring,\n Vnto the Tine, whose streames such profit bring\n Vnto that towne, which on her bankes doth stand,\n Now call\u2019d Newcastle built by my command.\n\n 21.\n\n T\u2019oppose the furie of th\u2019inuading foe,\n The king my late tri\u2019de valor did imploy,\n The Tine with wafting waues did seeme to woe\n My swift accesse, to saue her from th\u2019annoy\n Of her proud foes, who daylie did destroy\n The towres and townes, which did themselues enranke\n About her streames, vpon the pleasant banke.\n\n 22.\n\n Where with my troopes, when I appeard in sight\n Beneath the kinglie lyon marching on\n Towards Tuuidale, to seeke the foes for fight,\n _Malcolme_ retirde beyond the Tweede, and none\n In England\u2019s bounds durst stay to looke vpon\n Our angrie host, for peace the foemen su\u2019d,\n Which for the common good I did conclude.\n\n 23.\n\n But leaue I now, to speake of blessed daies,\n In which I liu\u2019d true subiect to my king,\n Leaue we a while to memorize the praise\n Of my best deeds, thy muse againe must sing\n My rebell pride, whence worse effects did spring,\n Mischiefe now tracts each step, that I do tread,\n Vnlookt for plagues falles downe vpon my head.\n\n 24.\n\n Suppose thou seest me on the German coast,\n Clad in rebellious armes against my sire,\n Trooping vp men, to make a compleat host,\n Waging th\u2019vnwilling mind with golden hire,\n And hope of spoile, to furnish my desire:\n Bent once againe, vnto my sire vnknowne,\n To claime the Norman dukedome, as mine owne.\n\n 25.\n\n But ere my wicked sword I could vnsheath,\n Vpon the bed of fraile mortalitie\n Lies conquering _William_, in the armes of death,\n T\u2019whom enuious fame in his extremitie,\n Brings tidings of his sonne\u2019s impietie,\n Debatefull enuie, finding once the thing\n That breeds our shame, sets euill newes on wing.\n\n 26.\n\n Could enuie find a darker cloud of shame,\n Wherewith t\u2019obscure the shine of my renowne?\n Could fate for future woes more fitly frame\n The houres of time, to cause the conqueror frowne,\n Then when in death, he should dispose the crowne?\n Enuie, fate, time and all things else agree,\n To crosse that man, t\u2019whom fortune crosse wil bee.\n\n 27.\n\n The sickly king my sire, whose daies were done,\n Thinking my course did threaten sure decay\n To the rich trophie of his conquest wonne,\n What nature gaue to me, did giue away,\n To set the state vpon a surer stay:\n For leauing life, he left by his decree\n His crowne to _Rufus_, and his curse to mee.\n\n 28.\n\n Tell me ambition, whence hadst thou that might,\n To stirre vp nature in bold _Beauchamp\u2019s_ brest\n Gainst God, \u2019gainst king, \u2019gainst nature\u2019s selfe to fight,\n Enacting by my hand such deeds vnblest,\n From the first motion of my mind\u2019s vnrest?\n From hope of rule, and empire\u2019s blind desire,\n Thou hadst that power to make me first aspire.\n\n 29.\n\n Reason strooke blind euen from my youth\u2019s first spring\n With fond-bewitching hope in state to clime,\n That hope made frustrate by the powerfull king,\n Did but prefigure out for future time,\n Th\u2019vnfortunate effects of my foule crime,\n The losse of crowne, the losse of all my right,\n The losse of freedome and my bodie\u2019s sight.\n\n 30.\n\n Scarce had the hand of vnimpeached death,\n Clos\u2019d vp the eyes of England\u2019s conquering king:\n But fame, whose listning eares feeles euery breath\n Of whispering rumour, set him selfe on wig,\n And ouer seas to vs did tidings bring,\n That our dread sire was to his graue gone downe,\n And vnto _Rufus_ had bequeath\u2019d his crowne.\n\n 31.\n\n Heart-swolne with furie to reuenge such wrongs,\n And claime the priuiledge then almost lost,\n Which vnto birth by nature\u2019s gift belongs,\n Lest _Rufus_ pride in my disgrace might boast,\n My quarrell strengthned with a mightie hoast,\n I did arriue on England\u2019s southerne shore,\n Gainst whose white rocks the British billowes rore.\n\n 32.\n\n The English peeres abhorring _Rufus_ pride,\n In me expecting a more milde command,\n Both by affection and by dutie tide\n T\u2019aduance my cause, each with his armed band,\n Gainst _Rufus\u2019_ powers in field did stoutly stand,\n Whose wilder nature knowne in former daies,\n Now many friends to my attempt did raise.\n\n 33.\n\n Th\u2019vnconquered Kentish in the English east\n With that stout bishop _Odo_, first made head,\n The actiue people, coasting on the west,\n Marcht beneath _Mowbraie\u2019s_ ensigne proudly spread,\n The northerne rout the valiant _Bygod_ lead,\n And the bold Britaines fauouring my right,\n Were troopt by braue _Mountgomerie_ valiant knight.\n\n 34.\n\n Th\u2019vsurping king seeing such sterne stormes to frowne,\n On the first spring of his ambitious raigne,\n Fearing the fall of his new-borne renowne,\n Sought by insinuating words to gaine,\n What by the sword he could not now maintaine,\n His golden gifts with many faire sweet words,\n Did turne the edge of our reuengefull swords.\n\n 35.\n\n He did not seeke t\u2019vsurpe the crowne by might,\n Such pride his loyall heart did nere inuade,\n He knew my senior birth did claime that right,\n He, we being absent, tooke in hand, he said,\n In our behalfe the scepter then vnswai\u2019d,\n The which, since now, he did the same enioy,\n He crau\u2019d to hold of vs, as our vice-roy.\n\n 36.\n\n His gifts still flowing from him in excesse,\n Did giue full power to euery mouing word,\n And that in me he might all doubts suppresse\n Of fraudulent deceit, he did accord\n That he of me, as of his supreame lord,\n Should hold the crowne, and yearely I should claime\n Three thousand markes, as tribute for the same.\n\n 37.\n\n Fraternall loue so well her powers appli\u2019d,\n To end these iarres begun betwixt vs twaine,\n That he constrain\u2019d t\u2019appease his wonted pride,\n And I respecting glorie more then gaine,\n Did reunite our selues in loue againe:\n The frowne of Mars did bring his stomacke downe,\n And golden gifts did calme our martiall frowne.\n\n 38.\n\n Farre from the fruitfull Albion\u2019s peacefull shoare,\n For th\u2019easterne world thy muse thou now must wing,\n Who in her flight a loftie pitch must soare,\n Of those stout pilgrims in high straine to sing,\n Which th\u2019holy hermit did to Salem bring,\n Imploring aid of princes in the west,\n Against the Pagan\u2019s bloodie acts in th\u2019east.\n\n 39.\n\n I as a partner in that great affaire,\n With my support that iourney to vphold,\n My wants with store to furnish, did not spare\n My Norman dukedome, which for summes of gold\n Till my returne the king did morgag\u2019d hold:\n Gold doth men\u2019s thoughts to high attempts prepare,\n And ouergilds the danger of the warre.\n\n 40.\n\n Hearken how fame vpon the Norman coast\n With her shrill trumpe from kingdomes far away,\n Summons vnto an head my warlike host,\n Behold the sackfull troopes in braue array,\n Beneath my ensignes for this bold assay,\n Who martiall\u2019d by my hand, with ample traine,\n Do crowne the vtmost bankes of Belgike Seine.\n\n 41.\n\n Behold the English famous for his bow,\n Sharpning his angrie arrowes for the field,\n The Scot with his long pike his cunning show,\n The Britaine big-bon\u2019d-bold, not borne to yeeld,\n Addressing brauely both his sword and sheeld,\n See how the Norman manageth his horse,\n The Irish shakes his dart with manly force.\n\n 42.\n\n As wak\u2019d from sleepe, with christians wofull cries,\n Bound by the Saracen in captiue bands,\n And often blushing at the late surprise\n Of those milke-hony-flowing holy lands,\n Now made the spoile of Pagan\u2019s conquering hands,\n Hence did we march with heau\u2019ns great king for guide\n Into the east, to beate downe Pagan\u2019s pride.\n\n 43.\n\n Inglorious age, made drunke with dregs of peace,\n Heere iustly may I taxe thy peacefull time,\n Heere must our muse\u2019s warlike song surcease,\n A carping straine, a more inuectiue rime,\n Doth best befit the nature of thy crime:\n Looke backe at vs, mourne thine owne want of praise\n And glorious deeds, to glorifie thy daies.\n\n 44.\n\n Say glorie, say, hath peacefull follie furl\u2019d\n Thy flag of honor? li\u2019st thou dead in graue,\n With great _Heroes_ of the elder world,\n Who led vs ouer Hellespontus waue\n Beneath his badge, whose blood the world did saue?\n Arise, arise, call forth the christian man,\n Against the house of tyrant Ottoman.\n\n 45.\n\n Hearke, how Thessalian woods records the cries\n Of captiu\u2019d Greekes vpon Pen\u00e6us shore:\n Behold how sacred Salem wasted lies:\n See, see, how Sion mournes, where saints of yore\n Did in sweet hymnes the king of heauen adore:\n Behold that blessed land, the cursed seat\n Where raignes th\u2019Arabian Turkish Mahomet.\n\n 46.\n\n O warlike nation, where is now that name,\n Which th\u2019English sword did graue on Acon\u2019s wall,\n Why do your valours sleepe, vp, vp for shame,\n Let not your countrie\u2019s ancient glorie fall:\n Go, free poore christians from proud Pagan\u2019s thrall,\n Redeeme his sepulchre, who did redeeme\n The world from death, with blood of such esteeme.\n\n 47.\n\n Transport thou now thy muse to Bosphorus\u2019 brim,\n Ouer whose waues from Iuno iealous dame,\n To Asian meades of yore did Io swim,\n From whom transform\u2019d the streame then tooke his name,\n And since that time hath still retain\u2019d the same,\n Ouer whose waues as we did waft our host,\n Much christian blood we \u2019gainst the Bulgar lost.\n\n 48.\n\n Hence did we march to Hellespontus flood,\n Where Helle, with yong Phrixus, put to flight\n By stepdam\u2019s rage, of which in feare they stood,\n Flying, alas, and falling with affright,\n Into the waue sunke downe in Phrixus\u2019 sight:\n Yet still to liue, in leauing her deare breath,\n She left her name to Pontus at her death.\n\n 49.\n\n The coast we tooke, where once Abydos stood,\n Whence nak\u2019d Leander, wafted by the light\n Of Hero\u2019s loue, so often swom the flood,\n Till Helle rauisht with so sweet a sight,\n Enuying Hero\u2019s hap, in her despight\n Into the deepe her deare Leander drew,\n Where to his loue he sigh\u2019d his last adew.\n\n 50.\n\n There on the plaines, where Troye\u2019s sad ruines stand,\n Whence Agamemnon\u2019s troopes haue often run,\n To shun the furie of great Hector\u2019s hand,\n Against the Pagan many deeds were done\n Beneath our standard of Ioue\u2019s powerfull sonne,\n There all the host, as towards Nice we past,\n With spoilefull hands laid all the countrie wast.\n\n 51.\n\n The noble citie Nice, so strongly wall\u2019d,\n We with our conquering host begirted round,\n Her gates we wonne, her turret\u2019s tops we scall\u2019d,\n Her towring walles we equall\u2019d with the ground,\n And all her pride did in the fire confound:\n Amongst whose spoiles great Solyman\u2019s faire make,\n With her deare children we did captiue take.\n\n 52.\n\n Then did stout Heracl\u00eaa stoope her pride\n And seeing the Niceans yeeld, did yeeld with them,\n From thence to Tarsus we our host did guide,\n Fast by the bankes of Cydnus, whose sweet streame\n Did seeme t\u2019inuite vs to that stratageme,\n Wafting vs, with slow waters sliding downe\n From mountaine Taurus, vnto Tarsus towne.\n\n 53.\n\n Where when we came with sp\u2019rite infus\u2019d from heauen,\n We through the walles did force our dreadfull way,\n The mightie towne into our hands was giuen,\n The captiue foes in pitifull dismay,\n With teares bemoan\u2019d the imminent decay\n Of their strong walles, which Perseus so renown\u2019d\n Had long before erected from the ground.\n\n 54.\n\n Thence our triumphant standards we aduance\n To Syria-ward with _Godfrey_ for our guide,\n Where on the way, with seruice of my lance\n In many a fight against the aduerse side,\n I with fresh strength our fainting host suppli\u2019d,\n And forc\u2019d the Pagan _Pyrrus_ from the field,\n Who fled, and made faire Antioch wals his shield.\n\n 55.\n\n Whom we pursu\u2019d, and by the siluer streames\n Of swift Orontes, where the king of light\n Vpon our armes did cast his golden beames,\n Our troopes did tracke the foe-men, turn\u2019d to flight,\n Till Antioch towers shot vp themselues in sight,\n Whose pride we menac\u2019d with victorious armes,\n And shooke it in long siege with loud alarmes.\n\n 56.\n\n Nine times the pale-fac\u2019d queene of peacefull night,\n Did lose that siluer lustre in her wane,\n Which she receiu\u2019d from Ph\u0153bus cheerefull sight,\n And nine times did her brothers light againe\n Renue that losse, which she did erst sustaine,\n While Antioch walles our armie did enclose,\n And stood in daily skirmish with the foes.\n\n 57.\n\n In the ninth month, vpon the topfull brow\n Of the towne-gate, the flag of truce did waue,\n The captaine _Pyrrus_ haughtie heart did bow,\n The citie stoopt her pride, and for to saue\n Her selfe from spoile, her gates wide open gaue,\n Whose wealth, as due reward of our long toile\n To th\u2019vniuersall host, was giuen for spoile.\n\n 58.\n\n Should I assay to tell each conquest wonne,\n Which at that time the christian host did crowne,\n Or bring to light each high atchieuement done,\n Before we could attaine that sacred towne,\n Which God\u2019s sonne\u2019s sepulchre doth so renowne,\n Our muse, though willing all at large to show,\n Yet were too weake such taske to vndergo.\n\n 59.\n\n See how the Persian fronts vs in the field,\n Vnder the sway of whose huge horse-arm\u2019d host,\n The earth with bowing backe doth seeme to yeeld,\n Whose troopes in number infinite doth boast\n Our swift decay, ere we do crosse their coast,\n Hemming vs round, in hope t\u2019enrich their hands,\n With noble conquest on our conquering bands,\n\n 60.\n\n With shouts, and war-like instruments loud sound,\n Hid all in clouds of smoake they toward vs came,\n In fearefull fight vpon the groaning ground\n Both hosts incounter\u2019d, glorie did enflame\n Both bent to fight, both greedie after fame,\n Standerd \u2019gainst standerd stood, and band \u2019gainst band,\n Troope clos\u2019d with troope, men singl\u2019d hand to hand.\n\n 61.\n\n Corbona hight, a Persian farre renown\u2019d,\n Chargeth our host with all his troopes of horse,\n Stiffe stands each regiment, no ranke giues ground,\n Power beats backe power, and force repelleth force,\n The foes repell\u2019d doth often shift their course,\n Oft charging and recharging euery ward,\n Where they do find the rankes most vnprepar\u2019d:\n\n 62.\n\n Then thicke as haile from aire\u2019s darke regiment,\n When in blacke clouds a tempest raues in skie,\n Steele-headed shafts from th\u2019English bowes are sent,\n Threatning the armed men as they do flie,\n With singing slaughter, thicke prepar\u2019d on high,\n Who in their flight, though some fall short of wounds,\n Yet some againe both men and horse confounds.\n\n 63.\n\n Here th\u2019angrie courser chaf\u2019t with deadlie sting\n Of wounding shaft, for verie paine and woe\n Doth stampe, doth plunge, and vp from ground doth fling,\n Doth snuffe, doth puffe, doth boggle, snore and blow,\n Till from his back his rider he doth throw:\n Then ranging through their host with sinewie shankes\n He wounds his friends, disturbing all their rankes.\n\n 64.\n\n There one with shaft infixed in his brest,\n As the stalke stoopes his top orecharg\u2019d with seed,\n Hangs downe his head: another here opprest\n With feare of death, forsakes his wounded steed,\n Each place throughout the field our eyes did feed\n With ruine of the foes dispred on ground,\n Gasping for breath with many a bleeding wound.\n\n 65.\n\n Greate Ioue the god of conquest, who from harme\n Did garde our host in euerie such assay,\n Did through the cloudes stretch out his mightie arme,\n And on the foes did powre downe swift decay,\n Slaughtering their men on heapes, few fled away:\n Twice fiftie thousand dead in field did fall,\n With stout _Corbona_ their cheife generall.\n\n 66.\n\n Here could I tell the sack, which did decline\n The pride of Salem, whose high walles withstood\n Our fierce assaults twice fifteene dayes and nine,\n How euerie street polluted with the blood\n Of Pagans slaine, did seeme a crimson flood:\n How Egypt\u2019s Soldan did before vs fall,\n Whom to these warrs, this towne distrest did call.\n\n 67.\n\n But back to England we must turne our eye,\n From whence, since first to Palestine I came,\n Fiue times bright Pisces in the azure skie\n Had in their yerelie course outrun the Ram,\n Whose iust returne againe begins the same,\n Where in our absence let vs view in state,\n What changes haue ben wrought by time and fate.\n\n 68.\n\n Our brother _Rufus_ with vnrighteous hand,\n Swaying the scepter in the English throne,\n Did so oppresse the people of his land,\n That, when he left to liue, he then left none,\n That would as friends his suddaine death bemone:\n He in that forrest did death\u2019s cup carowse,\n Which fatall was vnto the conqueror\u2019s house.\n\n 69.\n\n A goodlie place, that forrest once had ben,\n Where manie a towne and manie a temple stood,\n Made sacred with the prayers of holie men,\n All which without respect to common good,\n My father did conuert into a wood,\n Intitling it New Forrest, and for game,\n Did after keepe wild beasts within the same.\n\n 70.\n\n Which stir\u2019d the stormefull wrath of heauen\u2019s great king,\n Who seeing his temples equald with the ground,\n And where his priests sweet p\u00e6ans once did sing,\n And oft with thankfull prayers his altars crownd,\n Hearing the crie of th\u2019hunter and his hound,\n Did in that place punish th\u2019impietie\n Vpon my sire, in his posteritie.\n\n 71.\n\n His second sonne, my brother _Richard_ hight,\n A hopefull youth, whom nature\u2019s hand had sto\u2019d\n With sweetes of youth, as he, for his delight,\n Did range this wood, was through the bodie gor\u2019d\n By sauage beasts, whose death my sire deplor\u2019d\n With bitter teares: yet could not quench the fire\n Of Ioue\u2019s fierce wrath, so moued was his ire.\n\n 72.\n\n _Rufus_, his third borne sonne, in that same wood,\n When he had strook an hart that fled his sight,\n Was by another crost, where as he stood,\n At whom one _Tirrill_ call\u2019d, a Norman knight,\n A shaft let flie, which in the lucklesse flight\n Missing the deere, and glancing on the ground,\n Vpon the brest the king to death did wound.\n\n 73.\n\n He dead, yong _Henrie_ for his learning skill\n Surnamed _Beauclerk_, did aspire the crowne,\n And wonne the English peeres vnto his will:\n Fortune once more vpon my state did frowne,\n And from ambitious throne did keepe mee downe,\n Mocking my hopes, denying mee command,\n When she had put a scepter in my hand.\n\n 74.\n\n After the conquest of Ierusalem,\n The princes did amongst themselues accord,\n To crowne my temples with the diademe,\n That my abode might in distresse afford\n Comfort t\u2019all christians gainst the heathen sword:\n But tidings of my brother _Rufus_ fall,\n From Palestine to England me did call.\n\n 75.\n\n That sword renownd with fall of Pagan foes\n Now did brandish gainst my brother\u2019s brest,\n That sheeld, which did the Persian oft oppose\n In skirmish in the field, was now addrest\n Against my friends, to worke mine owne vnrest:\n And all mine ensignes fam\u2019d in forraine fight\n At Winchester did waue in _Henrie\u2019s_ sight.\n\n 76.\n\n Where, close to swords in fight we would haue stood\n Had not our friends foreseene the future harmes\n Of our debate, who tending either\u2019s good,\n To calme the tempest of warre\u2019s threatfull stormes,\n First caus\u2019d vs lay aside our angrie armes,\n Then counsell\u2019d _Henrie_ to such couenants yeeld\n As _Rufus_ did, when he the state did weeld.\n\n 77.\n\n As he, while he did liue, for England\u2019s crowne,\n Inioyned was by general states decree\n Three thousand markes each yeare to pay me downe,\n So _Henrie_, younger borne by birth, then he,\n To like conditions thenceforth should agree,\n To which we both consenting did depart,\n One from the other seeming pleasde in hart.\n\n 78.\n\n But hooded with the shew of outward loue,\n Beguiling my simplicitie of mind,\n He in the end a deadly foe did proue,\n In my franke brest by nature too too kind,\n A cunning way to catch me he did find:\n Into the best minds pliable to good,\n Deceit soone enters maskt in truth\u2019s plaine hood.\n\n 79.\n\n His queene, a woman sweetly tongu\u2019d and faire,\n By whom the king at his desire did aime,\n With speech so affable did so insnare\n My princely pliant thoughts, that in the same,\n She could impresse, what forme she pleas\u2019d to frame:\n So free was I, that what her heart could craue,\n As was my wont, with prodigue hand I gaue.\n\n 80.\n\n The tribute due for England\u2019s emperie,\n At her request I freely gaue away,\n Whereby my title and my dignitie\n I lost, in that I could not then gain-say\n A queene\u2019s request, proud _Henrie_ had his prey:\n A woman\u2019s power to proue my power but vaine,\n What I had done did soone vndoe againe.\n\n 81.\n\n Wanting in after times necessitie,\n Those golden sinewes of my dukedome\u2019s state,\n To strengthen my much weakned royaltie,\n I gaue the king words of despitefull hate,\n And for reuenge tooke armes: but froward fate\n With clouds of shame did now eclipse the shine\n Of all my conquests, won in Palestine.\n\n 82.\n\n Ore the sea\u2019s narrow brest from England\u2019s coast\n To Normandie my furious brother came,\n Gainst whom, my cause being good with my small host,\n Before the fort of Tenerchbray by name:\n Though fewer farre, in battel\u2019s bloodie frame\n We did aduance, where though _Mortaigne_ and I\n So stoutly fought, our folke the field did flie.\n\n 83.\n\n Vpon that day, when fortie yeares before,\n My sire to conquer England gaue th\u2019assay,\n In which he first set foot on England\u2019s shore,\n The king and I did meet in battell ray,\n In which, alas, we Normans lost the day:\n For on that day the Normans England won,\n Was Normandie by English men orerun.\n\n 84.\n\n Where, though false fortune turn\u2019d her treacherous face,\n And then began to worke our future woe,\n Though dreadfull Pallas did denie vs grace,\n And \u2019gainst our side her selfe in field did show,\n Yet did we scorne, as scar\u2019d, to flie the foe,\n _Mortaigne_ and I \u2019gainst them alone did fight,\n Till multitudes did ouermatch our might.\n\n 85.\n\n Let Pallas cease to sing of armes oppos\u2019d,\n Sorrow must be the subiect of her song,\n In stead of greaues with golden buttons clos\u2019d,\n In which she marcht amidst our martiall throng,\n Now in sad straine, while we relate our wrong,\n She in the sock the tragicke dance must lead,\n Whose dolefull measures, we captiu\u2019d do tread.\n\n 86.\n\n Thy muse, that in warre\u2019s bloodie hew was sent\n To Palestine, must now in blacke be found,\n Each word with heauie fall she must accent,\n Each symphonie must yeeld a dolefull sound,\n Each measure with a captiue band be bound,\n And euery couple\u2019s sad catastrophe,\n Double the woes of our captiuitie.\n\n 87.\n\n Now Normandie\u2019s great duke in _Henrie\u2019s_ hand\n Vpon the rouling billowes running high,\n Is carried captiue from his natiue land,\n To which oft turning backe his heauie eie,\n It seemes a farre to follow him and crie,\n \u201cAdew, deare lord, adew, who neuer more\n With one step\u2019s touch shall grace my sandie shore.\u201d\n\n 88.\n\n With griefe arriu\u2019d on Cardiffe\u2019s rockie coast,\n Where Seuerne first meets Nereus wauie brood,\n Through whose blacke waues faire Sabrine\u2019s guiltlesse ghost,\n T\u2019Elizium bankes did passe the fatall flood,\n In whose defence king Locrine lost his blood,\n The tyrant king, in dread what might befall,\n Did confine me within the castle wall.\n\n 89.\n\n As bird in cage debarr\u2019d the vse of wings,\n Her captiu\u2019d life as nature\u2019s chiefest wrong,\n In dolefull dittie sadly sits and sings,\n And mournes her thralled libertie so long,\n Till breath be spent in many a sithfull song:\n So heere captiu\u2019d, I many daies did spend\n In sorowe\u2019s plaint, till death my daies did end.\n\n 90.\n\n Where as a prisoner, though I did remaine:\n Yet did my brother grant this libertie,\n To quell the common speech, which did complaine\n On my distresse, and on his tyrannie,\n That in his parkes and forrests ioyning by,\n When I did please, I to and fro might goe,\n Which in the end was cause of all my woe.\n\n 91.\n\n For on a time, when as Aurora bright\n Began to scale heau\u2019n\u2019s steepie battlement,\n And to the world disclose her cheerefull light,\n As was my wont, I with my keeper went\n To put away my sorrowe\u2019s discontent:\n Thereby to ease me of my captiue care,\n And solace my sad thoughts in th\u2019open aire.\n\n 92.\n\n Wandring through forrest wide, at length we gaine\n A steepe cloud-kissing rocke, whose horned crowne\n With proud imperiall looke beholds the maine,\n Where Seuern\u2019s dangerous waues run roling downe\n From th\u2019Holmes into the seas, by Cardiffe towne,\n Whose quicke deuouring sands so dangerous been\n To those, that wander Amphytrite\u2019s greene.\n\n 93.\n\n As there we stood, the countrie round we ey\u2019d\n To view the workmanship of nature\u2019s hand,\n There stood a mountaine, from whose weeping side\n A brooke breakes forth into the low-lying land,\n Here lies a plaine, and there a wood doth stand,\n Here pastures, meades, corne-fields, a vale do crowne,\n A castle here shootes vp, and there a towne.\n\n 94.\n\n Here one with angle ore a siluer streame\n With banefull baite the nibling fish doth feed:\n There in a plow\u2019d-land with his painefull teame,\n The plowman sweates, in hope for labor\u2019s meed\n To get the earth with childe of Ceres\u2019 seed:\n Heere sits a goatheard on a craggie rock,\n And there in shade a shepheard with his flock.\n\n 95.\n\n The sweet delight of such a rare prospect\n Might yeeld content vnto a carefull eye:\n Yet downe the rock descending in neglect\n Of such delight, the sunne now mounting high\n I sought the shade in vale, which low did lie,\n Where we reposde vs on a greene wood side,\n Afront the which a siluer streame did glide.\n\n 96.\n\n There dwelt sweet Philomel, who neuer more\n May bide th\u2019abode of man\u2019s societie,\n Lest that some sterner Tereus then before,\n Who cropt the flower of her virginitie,\n Gainst her should plot some second villanie:\n Whose dolefull tunes to minde did cause me call\n The woefull storie of her former fall.\n\n 97.\n\n The redbreast, who in bush fast by did stand\n As partner of her woes, his part did plie,\n For that the gifts, with which Autumnus hand\n Had grac\u2019d the earth, by winter\u2019s wrath should die,\n From whose cold cheekes bleake blasts began to flie\n Which made me think vpon my summer past\n And winter\u2019s woes, which all my life should last.\n\n 98.\n\n My keeper with compassion mou\u2019d to see,\n How griefe\u2019s impulsions in my brest did beate,\n Thus silence broke: \u201cWould God, my lord,\u201d quoth he,\n \u201cThis pleasant land, which nature\u2019s hand hath set\n Before your eyes, might cause you to forget\n Your discontent, the obiect of the eye\n Oft times giues ease to woes, which inward lie.\n\n 99.\n\n Behold vpon that mountaine\u2019s top so steepe,\n Which seemes to pierce the cloudes and kisse the skie,\n How the gray shepheard driues his flock of sheepe\n Downe to the vale, and how on rockes fast by\n The goates frisk to and fro for iollitie:\n Giue eare likewise vnto these birds sweet songs,\n And let them cause you to forget your wrongs.\u201d\n\n 100.\n\n To this I made replie: \u201cFond man,\u201d said I,\n \u201cWhat vnder heau\u2019n can slack th\u2019increasing woe,\n Which in my grieued hart doth hidden lie?\n Of choice delight what obiect canst thou show,\n But from the sight of it fresh griefe doth grow?\n What thou didst whilome point at to behold,\n The same the summe of sorrow doth infold.\n\n 101.\n\n That gray coat shepheard, whom from farre we see,\n I liken vnto thee, and those his sheepe\n Vnto my wreatched self compar\u2019d may bee:\n And though that carefull pastor will not sleepe,\n When he from rauenous wolues his flock should keepe:\n Yet here, alas, in thrall thou keepest me,\n Vntill that woolfe my brother hungrie bee.\n\n 102.\n\n Those shaghair\u2019d goates vpon the craggie hill,\n Which thou didst shew, see how they friske and play,\n And euerie where doe run about at will:\n Yea when the lion markes them for his prey,\n They ouer hils and rockes can flie away:\n But when that lion fell shall follow me\n To shed my blood, O whither shall I flee?\n\n 103.\n\n Those sweet-voic\u2019d birds, whose aires thou dost commend,\n To which the echoing wood returnes replie,\n Though thee they please, yet me they do offend:\n For when I see, how they do mount on hie,\n Wauing their out-stretcht wings at libertie:\n Then do I thinke, how bird-like in a cage\n My life I leade, and griefe can neuer swage.\u201d\n\n 104.\n\n Heere sighes broke off my speech, and that in mind\n I vndisturb\u2019d might in that place bemone\n The lot adiudg\u2019d to me by fates vnkind,\n I did command my keeper to be gone,\n And there to leaue me to my selfe alone,\n Who doubting nothing what I would assay,\n Left me, as was his wont, and went his way.\n\n 105.\n\n He being gone, I wandring to and fro,\n Began t\u2019imagine how I might preuent\n My wretched thrall, doom\u2019d endlesse by my foe,\n T\u2019attempt all danger I stood fully bent,\n Finding the meanes to perfect my intent,\n Which at the last I found, alas, the while,\n Since fawning fortune did my hopes beguile.\n\n 106.\n\n Alone long wandring through the desert wood\n Farre from the castle, I did chance t\u2019espie,\n Whereas a lustie gelding grasing stood,\n Whom straight I backt, and did for freedome flie\n Through vnknowne waies, that none might me descrie:\n But what is hid from heau\u2019n, or who can shun\n God\u2019s firme edict, by which all things are done?\n\n 107.\n\n In swift careire, as I did heedlesse passe,\n And through a meadow greene did make my way,\n In midst of which a muddie quauemire was,\n Into the same my horse did fall, and lay\n Vp to the bellie, which my flight did stay,\n Where striuing, as I was from thence t\u2019haue past,\n They that pursu\u2019d me, found me sticking fast.\n\n 108.\n\n To Cardiffe thence they bore me backe againe,\n As one whom frowning fortune did despise,\n And to the king of me they did complaine,\n Who with himselfe did tyrant-like deuise,\n That I for this offence should lose mine eies:\n Which when he tooke, what did he leaue behind,\n But woe in captiue bands to leade the blind?\n\n 109.\n\n My bodie thus the darkesome caue was made,\n In which my soule abode, as it had been\n Confin\u2019d to dwell in house of endlesse shade,\n The windowes shut, no light could enter in,\n The light put out no comfort could be seene:\n And left thus blind, I seeke to flie my foes,\n Both soule and bodie Cardiffe doth inclose.\n\n 110.\n\n Bidding farewell vnto the world for euer,\n There in my chamber, as a forlorne guest,\n My wretched selfe I wilfully did seuer\n From all resort, where with long night opprest\n (For day did shun the place of mine vnrest)\n To yeeld griefe passage, after sad sighes giuen,\n Thus oft I call\u2019d, with hands vp-lift to heau\u2019n.\n\n 111.\n\n \u201cThou powerfull God, whose champion I haue been\n Fiue cold bleake winters, both by day and night,\n In field against the cursed Saracen,\n Although I seeme forgotten in thy sight,\n Yet now behold me heere a wofull wight:\n And seeing I liue in such calamitie,\n Send death to end my dolefull miserie.\n\n 112.\n\n Can I distinguish day from darkesome night?\n Or do I know the seasons of the yeare?\n Know I when spring deckes earth with sweet delight,\n When summer\u2019s sun glads earth with his bright cleare,\n Or when in woods Autumnus\u2019 fruits appeare?\n O no, of nought but winter can I tell,\n Whom by his boystrous blasts, I know right well.\n\n 113.\n\n Where is become that azure concauite,\n That doth so many wonders rare infold?\n Where all the host of starres, so infinite?\n Where daie\u2019s great monarch drawne in carre of gold?\n Where night\u2019s bright queene, so beautious to behold?\n O still, they do remaine in heau\u2019n\u2019s faire frame,\n Although I neuer more shall see the same.\n\n 114.\n\n Where now the valley greene, and mountaine bare,\n The riuer, forrest, wood, and crystall springs,\n The hauke, the hound, the hinde, the swift-foot hare,\n The lute\u2019s sweet straine, the voice that sweetly sings,\n And princely sports in courts of mightie kings?\n Where now are these? O let not memorie\n With thought of these augment my miserie.\n\n 115.\n\n Heere do I sit in shades of darkenesse grim,\n While others walke in light at libertie:\n Heere I in waues of wofull teares do swim,\n Condoling my vnhappie miserie,\n While others laugh, and sing for iollitie:\n Send then, O God, send death for my reliefe,\n Too heauie is the burthen of my griefe.\u201d\n\n 116.\n\n Thus many times, with bitter plaint and mone,\n To vtter woes in words I did assay,\n Witnesse ye wastefull walles, whose flintie stone\n Haue euen dropt teares, to heare me night and day,\n With pitious voice lament mine owne decay,\n Oft wishing death, which sorow in the end,\n And _Henrie\u2019s_ vnkind scoffe did timelesse send.\n\n 117.\n\n For as he should vpon a solemne day\n Make triall of a scarlet vestiment,\n The cape being straite, the which he did assay\n To put vpon his head, by chance did rent,\n Which with this scornefull scoffe to me he sent,\n \u201cVnto our brother beare the same,\u201d said he,\n \u201cWe know he hath a sharper head then we.\u201d\n\n 118.\n\n The garment being brought, the rent I found,\n At which my troubled thoughts so grieued were,\n That many doubts did in the same abound,\n Which made me aske of him, that did it beare,\n If any one before the same did weare:\n Who told me of the king\u2019s disdainfull scorne,\n And how by chance the same by him was torne.\n\n 119.\n\n Affliction bleeding fresh at this wide wound,\n My heart griefe\u2019s burthen could no longer beare,\n But downe I cast my selfe vpon the ground,\n Where I with wretched hands, the hoarie heare\n From off my aged head, alas, did teare,\n And when my tongue was free, against my foe\n I forc\u2019d it vtter forth these words of woe.\n\n 120.\n\n \u201cWoe, woe is me, that I was euer borne\n Of halfe so many yeares to liue the space,\n And in the end to liue my brother\u2019s scorne,\n Yea trebble woe to me, since such disgrace\n Doth in despight my former deeds deface:\n Then perish all my deeds, be neuer seene,\n Die fame with shame, as it had neuer beene.\n\n 121.\n\n Could not disdainfull _Henrie_ be content,\n Into his hands my kingdome to surprise,\n Could not my thraldome cause him to relent,\n Nor th\u2019vnsustained losse of both mine eyes\n His rage \u2019gainst me his brother yet suffice?\n But must he thus my princely state abuse,\n And as an almesman his owne brother vse?\n\n 122.\n\n Why haue yee then, ah why, haue yee thus long,\n Ye vnremorsefull fates produc\u2019d that thread\n Of loathed life, by life to lengthen wrong?\n Why clip ye not my clew? why am I fed\n With breath of life, and yet in life am dead?\n Curst be such fate, and curst that fatall hower,\n When first begot, I came within your power.\u201d\n\n 123.\n\n Hardned with griefe, in spight of death to die,\n Thenceforth as loathing life I stopt mine eares,\n When hungrie food for appetite did crie:\n And while with hunger nature slowly weares,\n My food was sighes, my drinke griefe\u2019s mournfull teares,\n Famine at length did blow the banefull breath,\n Whose bitter blast did strike my soule with death.\n\n 124.\n\n Euen as the naked woods, whose greene is lost,\n Clad in hoare, their ruth do seeme to show,\n In teares turn\u2019d t\u2019ysicles by wintrie frost:\n So I my head made white with age and woe,\n While from th\u2019eyes organs teares downe drizeling flow,\n When as I did perceiue approching death,\n Thus tooke my last farewell with fainting breath.\n\n 125.\n\n \u201cAdiew the daies, that did my dole prolong,\n Adiew the nights, that vexed me so soare,\n Adiew false fortune, cause of all my wrong,\n Who laughes to scorne the fame I won of yore,\n Adiew O wrongfull world for euermore:\n Ye that conspir\u2019d my sorowes to renew\n Both daies, nights, fortune, world and all adew.\n\n 126.\n\n These hands to thee (O God) that for a gift\n Thine owne deare Sonne for sin to death did yeeld,\n These hands, I say, to thee I now do lift,\n Which once did beare thy badge in brazen shield,\n Against the Pagan foes in many a field,\n Beseeching thee, from whom all mercies flowes,\n To grant such grace, as death may end my woes.\n\n 127.\n\n Twice fortie yeares and more, my daies haue ben,\n And twice fifteene the Ram his race hath runne,\n Since first, O Cardiffe, as in darkesome den,\n Within thy walles mew\u2019d vp from sight of sunne,\n Forlorne, to mourne my fortunes I begunne:\n Then pitie take, O God, on th\u2019aged blind,\n Death now begins my captiue bands t\u2019vnbind.\n\n 128.\n\n Leade on, leade on, vnto that heau\u2019nly place,\n Where in eternall blisse my soule must dwell,\n Flie faith before, sue penitence for grace,\n Backe, backe, my griefe, and vnto _Henrie_ tell,\n _Beauchamp_ is dead, Cardiffe adew, farewell:\u201d\n This said, I downe did sinke into my bed,\n In which my soule did leaue the bodie dead.\n\n 129.\n\n Thus hast thou heard the Norman\u2019s blind duke tell\n His fame in forren parts, the wretched wracke\n Of his renowne, and cause for which he fell:\n The iudge of heau\u2019n to punish is not slacke,\n Where men do cast heau\u2019n\u2019s gifts behind their backe:\n Of which let my sad life in Cardiffe lead,\n A lasting Mirrour be, though I be dead.\n\n\n\n\n THE MEMORABLE LIFE\n\n _and death of King Richard the_\n\n first, surnamed C\u0153ur de Lion.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cThis prince,\u201d quoth Memorie, \u201cdid liue too long,\n At his sterne brother\u2019s hands to beare such wrong,\n Which yet reuenged was by God\u2019s owne hand,\n Vpon himselfe, his children, and his land:\n Two sonnes he had, of daughters also twaine,\n Of which three drown\u2019d, were swallow\u2019d in the maine,\n The fourth a daughter was, which _Maud_ by name,\n Of whom _Plantagenet\u2019s_ two houses came:\n Duke _Gefferie_ of Aniou, noble knight,\n Vpon this _Maud_ begate that worthie wight,\n Duke _Henrie_, second king that bore that name,\n Though second to no king in deeds of fame,\n Who yong, yet forc\u2019d th\u2019vsurper _Stephen_ in fight\n To leaue to him the crowne, his due by right:\n He in chast bed begot three sonnes and one,\n Hight _Henrie_, _Richard_, _Gefferie_, and _Iohn_:\n Mongst whom that _Richard_ when both _Henries_ dide,\n On England\u2019s throne did sit as supreme guide,\n Since _William\u2019s_ conquest, only he of kings\n His host in person gainst the Pagan brings,\n He sackes Messina, beats the Cypriotes bold,\n Captiues their barbarous king in gyues of gold,\n Takes Acon\u2019s towers, is of the French enuide,\n And left forlorne, yet after quels the pride\n Of _Saladine_ in field, after whose flight\n He makes all Syria subiect to his might:\n Prince _Iohn_ rebels, the valiant king is sold\n To captiue bands, and bought againe for gold:\n At his returne he crownes himselfe againe,\n And is by traytor\u2019s hand vntimely slaine:\n The truth of which that we exactly heare,\n Fame sound thy trumpe, and cause his ghost t\u2019appeare.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n Fame\u2019s siluer trumpe\u2019s farre-flying sound, doth make\n King _Richard C\u0153ur de Lion\u2019s_ ghost t\u2019awake.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n The wrath of heau\u2019n doth most pursue those men\n With secret iudgement of disaster fate,\n That gainst their parents haue rebellious ben,\n Nature displeas\u2019d at such vnkindly hate\n Against it selfe, it selfe doth aggrauate,\n Causing the starres at such abortiue birth,\n With bad aspects to frowne vpon the earth.\n\n 2.\n\n Seldome such cursed insects in our kind\n Escape the scourge of hatefull destinie,\n Vnhappie chance in iudgement is assign\u2019d\n Till death, to follow such impietie,\n Which to the world my life might testifie,\n If any in this age with painefull pen,\n Had made the same a Mirrour vnto men.\n\n 3.\n\n Why should the glorie of so great a king\n Be darkned by obliuion\u2019s cloudie frowne?\n Why should this age, as loathing euery thing\n Of th\u2019elder world, my trophies all cast downe,\n And let my deeds in waues of silence drowne?\n As if twixt best and worst no ods there were,\n When both alike are laid vpon the bere.\n\n 4.\n\n Long hauing slept, and now rouz\u2019d vp by fame\n That keepes the due reward of doing well,\n In hope thy pen will helpe to raise my name\n Out of obliuion\u2019s den where it did dwell,\n In course I come my storie\u2019s truth to tell:\n That by the praise, or dispraise of my name,\n Others may make a Mirrour of the same.\n\n 5.\n\n Of noble _Henrie_, second of that name,\n The second sonne I am of sonnes twice two,\n Yet second vnto none in worthie fame,\n If yeelded were to me my praises due,\n As may appeare by that which shall ensue:\n First _Richard_ call\u2019d, first true borne English king,\n That wore the crowne since Normans conquering.\n\n 6.\n\n In large discourse to light I will not bring,\n The obloquie of that now loathed crime,\n In stubborne youth against my lord and king,\n Blushing, I wish all such records of time\n In darknesse dead, and wrapped vp in slime:\n Yet seeing that truth bids hide no part of blame,\n I will in briefe blaze out mine owne defame.\n\n 7.\n\n My father\u2019s browes with prints of age repleate,\n Fortune that erst did smile, began to frowne,\n Abus\u2019d by flatterie and his owne conceat,\n As bent with wilfull hands to hasten downe\n The statefull dignitie of his renowne:\n His eldest borne he made his fellow king,\n From whose ambition his distresse did spring.\n\n 8.\n\n Yong _Henrie_ sharing equall dignitie,\n And hauing set one foot within the throne,\n Puft vp with pride to make a monarchie\n Of his new state, he would be king alone,\n A partner in the crowne he would haue none:\n Which pride of mind with bad aduice borne higher,\n Caus\u2019d him rebell against his royall sire.\n\n 9.\n\n To strengthen his ambition yet but yong,\n The false French king in person did support\n His part in field: and to be yet more strong,\n The Scot and Flemming he did both exhort\n With them gainst aged _Henrie_ to consort,\n To whom both I and _Gefferie_ my brother\n Did giue consent, excited by our mother.\n\n 10.\n\n Not one of vs whom nature\u2019s band did bind\n With due alleageance to our sire and king,\n Did vnto nature\u2019s selfe not proue vnkind,\n Yet could not power preuaile, nor enuie\u2019s sting\n Against our sire, whom heau\u2019n did helpe to bring\n Our stubborne neckes againe beneath his yoke,\n Our knees did stoope to his victorious stroke.\n\n 11.\n\n Oft did we threaten ruine to his state,\n His Norman dukedome with warre\u2019s wastefull spoile\n We did deface, and sought to set debate\n Twixt him and his: yet after all our toile,\n At his weake hands we did receiue the foile:\n So iust is heau\u2019n to patron right gainst wrong,\n And guard the weake with strength against the strong.\n\n 12.\n\n To future time the king to leaue report\n Of our rebellion and his long vnrest,\n Did cause to be depainted in his court\n A pellican, who breeds beneath his brest\n Foure yong with tender care in his warme nest,\n Of which three waxing strong, vnkindly rise\n And pecke his brest, the fourth peckes out his eies.\n\n 13.\n\n By the three first, he did decipher forth,\n _Geffrie_, my selfe, and _Henrie_ his first sonne:\n The fourth was stubborne _Iohn_ his yongest birth,\n Of whom when he was likewise left alone,\n He beat his manly brest with age foredone,\n And ending griefe in death, to vs vnkind,\n My selfe and _Iohn_, he left his curse behind.\n\n 14.\n\n The sinne that drew these plagues vpon his head,\n Was wanton lust and loose lasciuious life,\n Burnt with desire, he left his lawfull bed,\n For which the iealous queene his angrie wife,\n Twixt him and vs stirr\u2019d vp debatefull strife:\n Mischiefe pursues the steps that false do proue,\n In the firme couenant of sinlesse loue.\n\n 15.\n\n Vnhappie we, his gracelesse sonnes that were\n The rods of heau\u2019n\u2019s reuenge for his misdeed,\n Did the reward of our rebellion beare,\n In vs our father\u2019s curse, the plaguefull meed\n Of disobedience after did succeed,\n The rods, with which Ioue executes his ire,\n He oft in iudgement casts into the fire.\n\n 16.\n\n When _Henrie_ crown\u2019d a king in royall throne\n And made in state coequall with our sire,\n Attempting oft the soueraignetie alone\n In sway of scepter, which he did aspire,\n And yet could neuer compasse his desire:\n With indignation at his fortunes crost,\n Being stricken to the heart his health he lost.\n\n 17.\n\n And seeing in sicknesse with repentant eies,\n The vglie shape of sinne, heart-freez\u2019d with cold,\n Of death\u2019s pale terror, he for mercie cries,\n And begs but this, that he may but behold\n Our father\u2019s face, ere he be wrapt in mould:\n Which last request our father him deni\u2019d,\n Doubting deceit in death, when _Henrie_ di\u2019d.\n\n 18.\n\n My yonger brother Britaine\u2019s _Gefferie_,\n A partner with vs in rebellious pride,\n To pay iust paines for his disloyaltie\n Vnto our father, bruzed on the side\n With fall from off his horse, vntimely dide:\n In youth cut off, as most vnworthie life,\n That with his father liu\u2019d in rebell strife.\n\n 19.\n\n This vengeance for such disobedient sin,\n Vnto my brethren as in mercie sent,\n Might to my future deeds haue caueats bin:\n But I in heart too stubborne to relent,\n And proud prince _Iohn_ did once againe consent,\n To lift rebellious hands against our sire,\n In his last daies when age did rest require.\n\n 20.\n\n The French king\u2019s power we did support in field,\n And did in armes the aged king constraine\n To such dishonor\u2019d tearmes of truce to yeeld,\n That he in heart vnable to sustaine\n The griefe of such disgrace, with sorow slaine,\n In those last words which dying he did breath,\n To vs his curse most iustly did bequeath.\n\n 21.\n\n After his death, to shew that griefe and shame\n Of my misdeeds, did put his soule to flight,\n His cold dead corps, as I beheld the same,\n Streaming out blood did shew the great despight\n That it conceiu\u2019d at my detested sight:\n Which forc\u2019d griefe\u2019s drops to dew my manly face,\n Toucht at the heart with shame of such disgrace.\n\n 22.\n\n Thus hauing blaz\u2019d out those vnnaturall crimes,\n The wicked brood of my degenerate pride,\n I will no longer vilifie thy rimes:\n Thou now to tell what after did betide\n Vnto the house of fame, thy muse must guide,\n And mount her thoughts to th\u2019highest pitch of glorie,\n In loftie straine to sing my golden storie.\n\n 23.\n\n No sooner was the kingdome\u2019s scepter seene\n In my right royall hand, but that in mind\n Transform\u2019d I was from what I once had beene,\n And turn\u2019d my back to fore-past shame: heau\u2019n shin\u2019d\n Vpon my head, thoughts only now enclin\u2019d\n To actions of true praise did heau\u2019n aspire,\n Forren affaires gaue wings to my desire.\n\n 24.\n\n For absolution for my trespasse done\n Against my sire, when I did vnderstand\n How _Saladine_, the Pagan prince, had wonne\n The sacred Salem and the holy land,\n Which christian princes did of late command:\n The christian badge I bore vpon my brest,\n And did direct my iorney towards the east.\n\n 25.\n\n The ablest men through my large emperie,\n That I could chuse for this so great affaire,\n From England, Guien, Poyctou and Normandie,\n From Britaine and from Aniou did prepare,\n Themselues in best habilliments of warre,\n T\u2019insue their father\u2019s steps, and gaine againe\n What they had wonne, and we could not retaine.\n\n 26.\n\n Report from Rome did tidings daily bring,\n Who stood in feare of th\u2019heathen\u2019s bold assay,\n How mightie _Saladine_ the Pagan king,\n Had proudly purpos\u2019d Palestine\u2019s decay,\n To glut the gulfe of his vnsaciate pray,\n Wishing vs hasten to the christian aid,\n Who ouer-matcht with power, were much dismai\u2019d.\n\n 27.\n\n The warre-god rouz\u2019d with ratling drumme\u2019s alarme,\n Rose vp and left his louely lemman\u2019s bed,\n Himselfe he for the field did brauely arme,\n Tooke vp his mightie launce, and boldly led\n Our battels forth, with crosse-fam\u2019d ensignes spred,\n On which as marching we infixt our eies,\n We hastned on to meet our enemies.\n\n 28.\n\n Leauing my kingdome\u2019s state beneath the sway\n Of foure estates, in peace to keepe the same,\n I crost the seas and tooke my readie way\n To Lyons that French towne: where when I came\n The king I met, then _Philip_ call\u2019d by name,\n Who for this great affaire had vow\u2019d to goe\n With his support against the common foe.\n\n 29.\n\n Our armies being ioyn\u2019d, we marched on,\n Where that strong bridge that ouerlookes the waue\n Of Rhodanus, beneath our feet did grone,\n And brake, where many, whom no helpe could saue,\n In that blacke strugling streame did find their graue:\n At which dismai\u2019d, to part we did agree,\n And after both to meet in Scicilie.\n\n 30.\n\n From hence ore aged Tython\u2019s purple bed,\n For Scicilie thy muse must take her flight\n To mount Pelorus, on whose loftie head,\n Let her insist and view our nauall might\n Afloat vpon those seas, so faire a sight\n King _Philip_ on the shore with his French powers\n Did then admire from off Messanae\u2019s towers:\n\n 31.\n\n There do behold my men in thickest throng,\n Scaling Messanae\u2019s walles, and beating downe\n The citie gates in wreake of that foule wrong\n Done gainst vs all by that iniurious towne,\n Who with first conquest did our sword renowne:\n Vpon whose walles our banners we did pight,\n Which did the false French _Philip_ much despight.\n\n 32.\n\n In spight of hate the cause we did protect\n Of our queene sister, _Ioan_ of Scicilie,\n Whose husband dead, prince _Tancred_ late elect\n To sway the scepter of that emperie,\n Did with vnfit repulse her due denie,\n Till now at length he by our power compell\u2019d,\n Did yeeld her dowrie, which he long withheld.\n\n 33.\n\n Keeping the feast of his natiuitie,\n Whose birth true peace t\u2019all humane soules did bring,\n In _Tancred\u2019s_ court, there first the treacherie\n Of faithlesse _Philip_, that ignoble king,\n Did shew it selfe: who did intend to bring\n All my designements for the christian aid,\n To ill effect by plots which he had laid.\n\n 34.\n\n The stout Scicilian king he did excite\n T\u2019inuade my campe, and that he might not faile,\n He wisht him take th\u2019aduantage of the night:\n And lest my dreaded might his mind might quaile,\n He with his power would helpe him to assaile:\n So much did he maligne my name\u2019s renowne,\n Which all true noble hearts with praise did crowne.\n\n 35.\n\n But I that did preferre a royall minde\n Before base thoughts of griping auarice,\n And prince-like did with bountie\u2019s hands strike blinde\n The eyes of enuie in mine enemies,\n Did finde such grace, that none could preiudice\n My name or state, but euen amongst my foes\n I found such friends as would the same disclose.\n\n 36.\n\n _Tancred_ that did admire the royalties,\n That in my kingly brest did make repose,\n Could not conceale the French-man\u2019s treacherie:\n But with a kingly sp\u2019rit, disdaining those\n That traytors were, this treason did disclose:\n Seldome base treacherie it selfe can seat\n On the high pitch of kingly bred conceat.\n\n 37.\n\n _Philip_ disgrac\u2019d, did launch into the deepe,\n Being bound for Acon that besieged towne,\n Where leauing him, thy muse her course must keepe\n Vnto that land, whose name did first renowne\n The queene of loue, and her first altars crowne:\n Whence she may safely see how Neptune raues,\n And wrackes my ships in the Pamphilian waues.\n\n 38.\n\n When launcht vpon the seas my ships were seene,\n From the Scicilian shore with that sweet maid,\n Nauare\u2019s faire _Berengaria_, my new queene:\n Neptune as if he did intend t\u2019haue pray\u2019d\n On my late chosen loue, began t\u2019inuade\n My blacke fleete\u2019s wooden walles, which he did batter\n With bounding billowes of his rough rouz\u2019d water.\n\n 39.\n\n Tempestuous winds, whose swelling cheekes did draw\n The louring clouds full burthened with blacke showers,\n Flew on the waues, which breaking with the flaw,\n Foaming white froth, did rise like loftie towers,\n In roring traine, trooping vp all their powers,\n Darknesse did hide the chearefull face of heau\u2019n,\n Our ships disperst, were each from other driuen.\n\n 40.\n\n T\u2019encrease our feare, and make the night more grimme,\n Through heau\u2019n\u2019s thicke clouds pale lightning still did flie,\n Whose dazeling flash our mazed sight did dimme,\n While the world\u2019s soueraigne in the thickned skie,\n Aboue our heads did thunder horriblie,\n From whence his darts with sulphurie flash he threw,\n Which brimstone-like did sauour as it flew.\n\n 41.\n\n The seas did swell, and proudly braue the beau\u2019n,\n The windes did bellow and the billowes rore,\n Many tall ships with gust of tempest driuen,\n To saue themselues from spoile, all desperate bore\n Vnto the hauens of the Cyprian shore,\n Vpon whose strand the barbarous Cypriotes stood\n T\u2019encrease their woes that did escape the flood.\n\n 42.\n\n Of those whose barkes did perish in the deepe,\n Some hauing gain\u2019d the shore with life halfe drown\u2019d,\n They tooke, whom as their captiues they did keepe,\n And some by swimming hauing footing found,\n Comming on shore with death they did confound:\n Which when I heard, the storme once blowen away,\n Such wrong with iust reuenge I did repay.\n\n 43.\n\n The depth of danger we did vndergo\n To gaine the shore, such ods there was in fight:\n Yet at the last our foes their backes did show,\n And left the shore to vs, but after flight\n _Isakius_ their stout king resuming sp\u2019rit,\n Troopt vp his people, summon\u2019d far and neare,\n And threatned fight when day light should appear.\n\n 44.\n\n But to preuent his threats, before the day\n His treasure, standard, horse and royall armes\n In field we tooke, from whence he fled away\n Despoil\u2019d and naked, fearing th\u2019horrid harmes,\n Which through his tents did ring with our alarmes:\n That night, whose next daie\u2019s light did promise faire\n Vnto his hopes, did end them in despaire.\n\n 45.\n\n Heere could I tell the conquest and rich spoile,\n Which for those wrongs, that we did erst sustaine,\n My souldiers made on Cyprus fruitfull soile:\n How false _Isakius_ yeelding did remaine\n With me in hold, and fled away againe,\n Whom after taken for his trespasse past,\n In guiues of gold I then did shakle fast.\n\n 46.\n\n[Sidenote: _Salphadine_ the brother of _Saladine_.]\n\n But deeds of more import are to be told,\n Thy muse must launch with vs from Cyprus shore,\n That on the surging seas she may behold\n Prince _Salphadine\u2019s_ huge barke, whose bosome bore\n Such furniture for warre, sent to restore\n The weakned strength of Acon almost lost,\n Then round besieged by the christian host.\n\n 47.\n\n To whom like floting _Delos_ on the waue\n We gaue the chase, till turning backe from flight,\n With all her fights set vp she did vs braue,\n And fifteene hundred men all arm\u2019d for fight,\n Vpon her deckes did shew themselues in sight,\n Whom in our gallies thronging in thicke croud,\n My souldiers did assaile with clamours loud.\n\n 48.\n\n Oft times with valour the repulse they gaue\n To vs, that sought to boord their ship and scale\n Her wooden walles, so high aboue the waue,\n Till from our bowes, shafts thicke as winter\u2019s haile,\n Their stoutest hearts with deadly wounds did quaile,\n Who shrinking from the fight my men did boord,\n And in their furie did not spare the sword.\n\n 49.\n\n Then did appeare the ruine of the foe,\n Gasping for breath in vaine, sweet life they craue,\n The blood of wounded men did streaming flow\n Into the flood, and here and there it gaue\n A crimson colour to the siluer waue:\n Whereby through th\u2019English fleet each little boat\n In Pagan blood triumphantly did float.\n\n 50.\n\n With that great monster barke two hundred men\n Reseru\u2019d from death, in triumph we did scower\n The seas: to Acon\u2019s siege begirted then\n By all the christian host, from whose watch-tower\n The foe-men viewing my approching power,\n And hearing of my deed vpon the deepe,\n No longer did intend the towne to keepe.\n\n 51.\n\n Yet after my arriue they being fed\n With lingring hope, did change their first intent,\n Gainst vs the towne did proudly beare her hed:\n For hearing of a priuate conuoy sent,\n With fresh supplie for their prouision spent,\n Though faint for food, yet they did after sheeld\n Their walles with stout defence and would not yeeld.\n\n 52.\n\n To frustrate Acon\u2019s hopes of such supplies,\n And with some high aduenture to renowne\n Our English name, finding by my espies\n The passage where the carriages came downe,\n From Babylon to that distressed towne:\n I with a band of choice selected men,\n Departed from the christian host vnseene.\n\n 53.\n\n From vnder couert of a thicke-set groue,\n On the carauan first the charge we gaue,\n Three thousand burthened camels in a droue\n We from the conuoy tooke, who for to saue\n The rest from spoile, at first aloofe did waue,\n But when we towards them made, though more they were\n In number farre, they tooke the wings of feare.\n\n 54.\n\n With many a thousand mule, and many a beast\n Of other burthen, we return\u2019d with speed\n Vnto the christian host, where we did feast\n Vpon the prey: the towne of this our deed\n Inform\u2019d by fame, and forc\u2019d by hungrie need,\n Her gates did open of her owne accord,\n To saue her sonnes from warre\u2019s reuengefull sword.\n\n 55.\n\n Heere must thy willing muse desist to tell\n Our happie hopefull conquests in the east,\n Cauils breake forth, enuie rouz\u2019d vp from hell,\n Creepes into false king _Philip\u2019s_ cankred brest,\n Who with old hate of my good hap possest,\n Doth by his plots the Austrian duke excite,\n To ioyne with him to worke vs all despight.\n\n 56.\n\n As still th\u2019infection of this foule disease,\n Contagious venome in their brests did breed,\n So my name\u2019s greatnesse daily did encrease,\n While they on spleene nere satisfied did feed,\n Fortune still grac\u2019d me with some glorious deed:\n Vertue enui\u2019d shines brighter, like the sun,\n Which breakes through clouds, with which it was orerun.\n\n 57.\n\n With enuious eyes, impatient to behold\n The golden beames of my sun-shine like fame,\n _Philip_ with th\u2019Austrian duke hight _Leopald_,\n Without respect vnto our Sauiour\u2019s name,\n The cause for which to Palestine we came:\n Seeming heart-sicke, did thence depart away,\n Hoping to leaue me to the foes for pray.\n\n 58.\n\n He gone, the hand of heau\u2019n that doth dispose\n The course of things, did beare before my brest\n The shield of safetie gainst our Pagan foes:\n With my small troope their powers in field supprest,\n The bordring christian held his right in rest:\n No crosse euent while I did there abide,\n In honor\u2019d deeds of armes did me betide.\n\n 59.\n\n If thou desire those famous acts to know,\n Mount Perseus horse, to Ioppa take thy way,\n Which at this time that fatall stone can show,\n To which the virgin faire Andromeda\n In bands was bound, to be the monster\u2019s pray:\n There on that rocke thy muse may sit and see\n Those deeds of fame, that then were done by mee.\n\n 60.\n\n Assur can speake my praise, before whose wall\n Great _Saladine_ with all his heathnish host,\n In battell did beneath mine ensignes fall,\n Who in my passage seeking to haue crost\n My way to Ioppa, on that salt sea cost,\n Fought from noone-tide vntill the setting sun,\n And then did flie, the field we christians won.\n\n 61.\n\n In fortie yeares before the Saracen\n Such losse did not sustaine in Palestine,\n Nor in one battell lost so many men:\n The towring state of mightie _Saladine_\n In this fight shaken, daily did decline:\n That ancient kingdome of the Syrian land\n Did fall from him, and was at our command.\n\n 62.\n\n From wel-wall\u2019d Ascalon, that ancient towne\n The Pagans fled with all their golden good,\n Darus did stoope her pride, Assur came downe\n Vpon her knees, Ioppa the port that stood\n Vpon the Syrian shore, before the flood\n With generall deluge did the world orespread,\n Did beare the christian badge vpon her head.\n\n 63.\n\n To follow fortune brauely marching on,\n Who with auspicious looke did seeme to smile,\n We did direct our course to Babylon:\n But she false ladie did my hopes beguile,\n And forc\u2019d me with mine armie to recoile:\n Fame ouer seas on her vnluckie wing\n Sad tidings from the west to vs did bring.\n\n 64.\n\n Backe, backe to England, with a grieued heart,\n Leauing these blest affaires of th\u2019holy one\n Of Israel, we must with griefe depart:\n _Philip_ my foe excites my brother _Iohn_\n In my long absence to aspire the throne:\n My England\u2019s rockie bounds ring with alarmes\n Of factious traytors, _Iohn_ is vp in armes.\n\n 65.\n\n Warn\u2019d by report, my course I did direct\n For England\u2019s bounds: but heere thy muse must know\n My father\u2019s curse began to take effect:\n Heau\u2019n seem\u2019d to frowne, the sea became my foe,\n And earth conspir\u2019d to worke my greater woe:\n By sea\u2019s darke waues and froward winds from heau\u2019n,\n Vnto my foes at shore I vp was giuen.\n\n 66.\n\n By tempest driuen, from danger to be free,\n I made hard shipwracke on the Istrian strand,\n Depriu\u2019d of all my traine, excepting three,\n Enforc\u2019d I was to make my way by land\n Through Austria, to Vienna, that doth stand\n Vpon Danubius bankes, that dukedome\u2019s seat,\n The bulwarke now gainst Turkish Mahumet.\n\n 67.\n\n There being descri\u2019d vnto mine ancient foe\n The Austrian duke I was giuen vp for pray:\n Who like himselfe, himselfe to me did show,\n Bearing in mind the malice of that day,\n When I at Acon, for his proud assay\n In taking for his lodging in the towne\n The palace vp, I cast his ensignes downe.\n\n 68.\n\n Yet with this duke not long was my abode:\n For when report of my captiuitie\n Was newly set on wing, and flowen abroad,\n _Henrie_ then emperour of Germanie,\n Forgetfull of emperiall royaltie,\n Of that false duke that had me fast in hold,\n Greedie of prey, did purchase me for gold.\n\n 69.\n\n Vpon that man, whom fortune doth begin\n To leaue forlorne, who will not seeme to frowne?\n When he is sunken vp vnto the chin\n In waues of sad distresse, all thrust him downe,\n And suffer him in wretchednesse to drowne:\n They that did enuie my great state before,\n Did wish such state might nere betide me more.\n\n 70.\n\n Ambitious _Iohn_, and _Philip_ that false king,\n Taking the time to perfect their intent,\n To _Henrie_ did a golden message wing,\n In hope if he to set me free was bent,\n Such purpose with corruption to preuent:\n Which when with terror stricken I did heare,\n No hope I had, no comfort did appeare.\n\n 71.\n\n Ignoble age, branded with this foule crime,\n This blemish thou canst neuer wipe away:\n When true record shall tell to future time,\n How most vniust the christian did repay\n His backe returne, that did through death assay,\n Gainst paganisme t\u2019aduance the christian name,\n Euen children shall vpbraid thee with the same.\n\n 72.\n\n In tempest of this trouble long being tost,\n Sore grieu\u2019d in mind for my captiuitie,\n At length compounding with my greedie host\n Th\u2019emperour _Henrie_, hight of Germanie,\n With ransome to redeeme my libertie:\n An hundred thousand pounds I did agree\n To giue to him before I could be free.\n\n 73.\n\n Now is my iourney set on foot againe\n For my deare England: now false _Philip_ stormes,\n Now _Iohn_ repents, and feare doth him constraine,\n In peace to lay downe his rebellious armes,\n And by our mother seeke to shun those harmes\n Approching on: t\u2019whom I in reuerence\n Of her estate, gaue pardon for his offence.\n\n 74.\n\n In England safe arriu\u2019d, the people greet\n My glad returne with bright bone-fires and bels,\n My royall London in each seuerall street,\n By her large gifts and golden glorie tels\n Within her walles what faithfull subiects dwels:\n And I, in hope that heau\u2019n would blesse my reigne\n With better fortunes, crown\u2019d my selfe againe.\n\n 75.\n\n But on the swift wings of reuenge for France,\n Hasten thy muse to Vernuile that strong towne,\n There see French _Philip_ flie before my lance,\n And at Vandosme how his armes cast downe,\n He flies, and leaues vs treasure and renowne:\n Of which two flights, this age doth since that time\n To his disgrace record a shamefull rime.\n\n 76.\n\n Disgrac\u2019d, he cals the Britons to his aide,\n With their yong _Arthur_ sonne of _Gefferie_\n My brother dead, for which with wrathfull blade\n I entred his rich dukedome Britanie,\n And vengeance tooke for his disloyaltie:\n Whence, when my wreake was past, I did aduance\n With ensignes spread into the bounds of France:\n\n 77.\n\n Where heau\u2019n did blesse me with such fate in fight,\n That _Philip_ in each field I did repell:\n Let Gamages and Vernon speake his flight,\n And at another time let Gysors tell,\n How flying from Curseile\u2019s, with his horse he fell\n Into the waues of Geth, the bridge brake downe,\n Whom mongst his men the streame did almost drowne.\n\n 78.\n\n Repulst with shame, he casting in his mind,\n With rags of honor, how to patch the rent\n In his wide wounded name, this shift did find:\n Out of the greatnesse of his mind he sent\n This challenge bold: if I durst giue consent,\n That fiue for him in field should hazard life,\n Against fiue men of mine to end our strife.\n\n 79.\n\n To this bold offer I did gladly yeeld,\n Yet interposing this condition,\n That he as chiefest champion in the field,\n Should mongst the fiue vpon his part make one,\n Gainst me on th\u2019aduerse part to fight alone:\n From which, without respect vnto a name,\n Mongst men renown\u2019d he did reuolt with shame.\n\n 80.\n\n Yet was a truce concluded twixt vs both,\n To which with willing minde I did encline,\n For that I then had bound my selfe by oath\n Once more to shape my course for Palestine,\n T\u2019employ my valour gainst great _Saladine_:\n But what I did decree, death soone preuents,\n Heau\u2019n beares the chiefest stroke in our intents.\n\n 81.\n\n Thy muse must now put on a mourning weed,\n Death doth begin to shew his ghastly face,\n With sad teares mourner-like let her proceed,\n To Chalus Cheuerell that fatall place,\n Where death with his cold armes did me embrace:\n There let her stand, and on that towne\u2019s strong wall\n Behold the manner of my haplesse fall.\n\n 82.\n\n My treasure spent by my long warres with France,\n And gainst the Pagan for the east parts bound,\n I was inform\u2019d that in my land by chance\n A British vicount, _Widdomer_, had found\n A wealthie treasure hidden vnder ground:\n For whom when I had sent, he guiltie fled\n To Chalus Cheuerell to hide his hed:\n\n 83.\n\n Whom I did follow, hastned on by fate,\n And did besiege the towne, where in mine ire\n For such indignitie against my state,\n I made my vowes thence neuer to retire,\n Vntill I should obtaine my iust desire:\n Three daies with fierce assault I did assaile,\n But all in vaine, my power could not preuaile.\n\n 84.\n\n The towne so strongly situated was,\n And the stout foes imboldned by the same,\n That of our powers they did little passe:\n Whose stubborne pride of strength that I might tame,\n I chose a captaine, _Marchades_ by name,\n To walke with me, and view that fatall towne,\n Where t\u2019vndermine her walles and cast them downe.\n\n 85.\n\n Each step I treade doth hasten on my end,\n And leads to death vnthought vpon, vnseene:\n For as with eyes infixt I did attend\n The towne\u2019s foundation, loe, an arrow keene\n Sent from the towne wall, wounded me betweene\n The necke and shoulder with his venom\u2019d poynt,\n Iust in the natiue closure of the ioynt.\n\n 86.\n\n Deepe was the wound and full of deadly paine,\n Yet did it not my mightie minde appall,\n Before the towne in siege I did remaine,\n Vntill her people did for mercie call,\n And prostrate at my feet did humblie fall:\n Whom when the raging souldiers in their ire\n Would haue deuour\u2019d, I spar\u2019d from spoile and fire.\n\n 87.\n\n But death doth hasten my vntimely end,\n The wound lookes blacke, the poison doth appeare\n In his effects, and bids me to commend\n My soule to God: my friends who held me deare,\n All round about me stand with heauie cheare:\n And when I knew that breath began to vade,\n I call\u2019d for him that had my life betray\u2019d.\n\n 88.\n\n Vnto the man before me brought, whose name\n _Bertram de Gord\u2019an_ was, these words I spake,\n \u201cWhat iust offence,\u201d quoth I, \u201cdid cause thee aime\n At my deare life? or wherefore didst thou take\n Me for thy marke, and in thy aime forsake\n Hight _Marchades_, my friend, that by me stood,\n When thou didst shoot thy shaft to shed my blood?\u201d\n\n 89.\n\n The man with courage turn\u2019d this stout replie:\n \u201cBecause,\u201d said he, \u201cthou in thy warres didst kill\n My father and my brethren, therefore I\n Did vow in my reuenge thy blood to spill:\n Which since I haue attain\u2019d and haue my will,\n What do I care though all thy friends do weepe,\n Seeing that mine shall not vnreuenged sleepe?\u201d\n\n 90.\n\n I did admire that his sterne words were such,\n And yet forgaue his fact, and gaue command\n That none amongst my friends with violent touch\n On him should after lay offensiue hand:\n And that he might not in their danger stand,\n I gaue him twentie crownes to beare him thence,\n From those that seem\u2019d to threaten his offence.\n\n 91.\n\n Thus with my chiefest foe my peace I made,\n And when I sensiblie felt nature\u2019s waste,\n To friends about me such like words I said:\n Quoth I: \u201cCome neere, and since all hope is past\n Of longer life, whose line long cannot last,\n Attend my words, and witnesse after death,\n What in my will I to the world bequeath.\n\n 92.\n\n To _Iohn_ my brother I resigne my crowne:\n _Arthur_ is French and rebell to the state:\n Seeke not with wilfull hands to hasten downe\n What I haue built by future time\u2019s debate:\n Factions will grow, and I foresee the fate,\n The wofull fate that England will betide\n When I am gone, that did enrich her pride.\n\n 93.\n\n Not long thy king, deare England, can I be,\n Death\u2019s cold begins into my heart to creepe,\n No more thy fame can be aduanc\u2019d by me:\n To _Iohn_ the prince I tender thee to keepe,\n When I with death haue laid me downe to sleepe:\u201d\n Thus death when I ten yeares had been a king,\n T\u2019vntimely end my life and reigne did bring.\n\n 94.\n\n My deeds I did atchieue with much vnrest,\n Death with blacke period did my deare life close,\n In prime of age approuing heau\u2019ns behest,\n Which seldome doth allot long life to those\n That to their parents proue rebellious foes:\n Of which that I may testimony giue,\n Let _C\u0153ur de Lion_ in remembrance liue.\n\n\n\n\n THE VNFORTVNATE\n\n _Life and Death of King Iohn_.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cThis prince to future time,\u201d quoth Memorie,\n \u201cRemaines a Mirrour of true charitie,\n Who at his death that traytour did forgiue,\n Whose bloodie hand did him of life depriue:\n But _Marchades_ for vengeance did suruiue,\n The traytour taken he did fley aliue:\n Now to the next, whom vp from graue we bring,\n Prince _Iohn_ the brother of the late dead king:\n He takes the crowne as due to him of gift,\n At whose good fortunes many hands do lift:\n _Philip_ beyond the seas inuades his lands:\n _Arthur_ in Aniou with his British bands,\n Pursues the aged mother of the king,\n Who to the rescue all his powers doth bring:\n Takes _Arthur_ captiue, and for his disdaine\n Sends him to Rouen castle, whence againe\n He nere returnes: wonders in heau\u2019n are seene,\n Treason amongst the peeres, the wrathfull spleene\n Twixt Rome\u2019s proud _Innocent_ and stout king _Iohn_:\n The French afresh inuade, the king finds none\n To take his part: the Irish do rebell:\n The Welch breake forth, both whom he doth compell\n To stoope their pride: the curse of _Innocent_,\n Against whose pride the king stands stiffely bent:\n _Philip\u2019s_ huge nauie doth on England frowne,\n The king vnto the legate yeelds his crowne:\n The lords rebell, the king is left forlorne,\n Abus\u2019d, reuil\u2019d, and made his people\u2019s scorne:\n Seekes th\u2019aid of strangers, and in his fierce ire,\n Flies ore the kingdome like a flaming fire;\n The barons flie from him, and seeke to bring\n The French prince _Lewis_ in, to make him king:\n He lands in Kent, London receiues his traine,\n From th\u2019haplesse king all fals away againe:\n The French men\u2019s pride the English sore opprest,\n King _Iohn\u2019s_ reuenge, poore England\u2019s woes encreast:\n In midst of hope t\u2019expell his enemies,\n The wretched king at Swynsted poysoned dies:\n All which, since many writers in his daies,\n Of very malice writ in his dispraise,\n That we may heare, let fame with summons call\n His princely ghost, to tell his tragicke fall.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n Fame cals king _Iohn_: his grieued ghost doth wake,\n Comes vp from graue, and heere his turne doth take.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n Discord the daughter of dissension,\n Home-hel-hatcht furie with bewitching charmes,\n Doth sooner ruine _C\u00e6sar\u2019s_ royall throne,\n Then all the imminent inuading harmes,\n That can inferred be by forren armes:\n Where people hate, and where the prince doth frowne,\n What might builds vp, dissension soone puls downe.\n\n 2.\n\n Of which I once that sway\u2019d this scepter state,\n Vniustly wrong\u2019d by peeres, vnkindly sold\n To wretched fortune by my subiects hate,\n A Mirror might haue been in lines of gold,\n If to this age my storie truth had told:\n But th\u2019vnkind age presents to iudgement\u2019s eye\n My shame at large, but lets my praise go by.\n\n 3.\n\n To whom shall I my many wrongs complaine?\n Since false traditions of those enuious times,\n Inuented by my foes, do yet remaine,\n Liuing to euery eye in forged rimes,\n As matter for the sceane obiecting crimes\n Vnto my charge, which firme in censure stands,\n Though nere enacted by my guiltlesse hands.\n\n 4.\n\n The long concealed griefe of discontent,\n Which for such vniust scandall I sustaine,\n Vp from the graue my grieued ghost hath sent,\n On such sterne people iustly to complaine,\n That vilifie my praise with lips prophane,\n Speaking what then the superstitious wits\n Vnto this age recorded haue in writs.\n\n 5.\n\n Could not the enuie of that age be quell\u2019d\n With my last houre\u2019s vntimely tragedie?\n Could not these burning veines with poison swell\u2019d,\n Their deadly hate against me satisfie?\n O no, in death their malice will not die:\n For which now summon\u2019d by the trumpe of fame,\n I gladly come to put away such shame.\n\n 6.\n\n My royall birth _Plantagenet_ can show,\n Stout _C\u0153ur de Lion\u2019s_ life declares the same,\n Who was the second sonne as thou dost know,\n Vnto king _Henrie_ second of that name,\n Who grew so great in wealth, in strength and fame,\n His yongest sonne I was, by name hight _Iohn_,\n Next after _Richard_ seated on the throne.\n\n 7.\n\n Thy lines with spot of that disloyaltie\n Against my sire, Ile not defile againe,\n Nor will I tell that false conspiracie\n Against my brother _Richard_, to obtaine\n From him his life, his kingdome, and his raigne:\n For he at large doth in his tragedie,\n Declare the manner of my treacherie.\n\n 8.\n\n Ambitious ayme at greatnesse in the state,\n Most incident to men of mightie mind,\n At first did bring me in my brother\u2019s hate:\n Yet in the end such fauour I did find,\n That he to me, though I so most vnkind\n Did oft times seeke the fall of his renowne,\n Forgaue my fact, and gaue to me his crowne.\n\n 9.\n\n With free consent of all this kingdome\u2019s peeres,\n Aduanc\u2019d I was to all the royalties\n Of my late brother dead, and thrice three yeeres\n Inthron\u2019d I was, before my haplesse eies\n Were made beholders of those miseries,\n Which in deep wanes of woe did England drowne,\n And brought confusion to my state and crowne.\n\n 10.\n\n In my first rise vnto the kingdome\u2019s state,\n False France did frowne, and stirred vp the fire\n Conceal\u2019d in ashes of our ancient hate,\n The yong duke _Arthur_, as he did require,\n Gainst vs rebell\u2019d, and did with him conspire:\n Both stretching forth their enuious hands, to crop\n My new growen greene vpon our cedar\u2019s top.\n\n 11.\n\n On the swift whirlewinde of tempestuous warre,\n Into Touraine and Aniou th\u2019vtmost bound\n Of this our empire, then inlarg\u2019d so farre,\n They furiously did breake, where what they found\n In my defence, they laid it waste on ground:\n Of which the duke proclaim\u2019d himselfe the lord,\n And sought t\u2019obtaine it by the threatfull sword.\n\n 12.\n\n Warre\u2019s fearefull earthquake shaking more and more,\n The state of Aniou, I did vnderstand,\n How th\u2019aged queene my mother _Elinor_,\n Besieged was by _Arthur_ with strong hand,\n Within a tower, which on that coast did stand:\n Who sore opprest, and in her mind dismai\u2019d,\n In such distresse did call me to her aid.\n\n 13.\n\n Incens\u2019d to heare my nephewe\u2019s vnkind deed\n Gainst her now in her age, that gaue him breath:\n As dutie bound me, on the wings of speed\n I hastned to the rescue, to vnsheath\n My angrie sword, whose edge did threaten death:\n A filiall loue to rescue her from harmes,\n Both day and night did make me march in armes.\n\n 14.\n\n Before the foes of my approch did heare,\n Such expedition thither I did make,\n That at their backes my ensignes did appeare:\n At which dismai\u2019d, their siege they did forsake,\n And most did vnto flight themselues betake:\n Of whom were many slaine that stood in fight,\n _Arthur_ vnhurt was taken in his flight.\n\n 15.\n\n T\u2019whom brought captiu\u2019d before me, thus I spake:\n \u201cCosin,\u201d quoth I, \u201cwhat madnesse was that same,\n That moued you these warres to vndertake?\n Why do you thus your royall friends defame,\n In bearing armes in false king _Philip\u2019s_ name?\n Preferre you him in your esteeme more deare,\n Then me, that am to you in blood so neare?\n\n 16.\n\n For shame that French man\u2019s company forsake,\n Let not his counsell tempt you any more:\n Turne vnto me, so shall I euer take\n Your cause as mine, and you againe restore\n Vnto my wonted fauour as before:\u201d\n With gentle speech thus did I him entreat:\n But thus he made replie with many a threat.\n\n 17.\n\n \u201cTyrant,\u201d said he, \u201cthou dost detaine my right,\n I am, thou knowest, true heire to England\u2019s crowne:\n Though vniust fortune in this lucklesse fight\n Looke blithe on thee, and on my state do frowne,\n Heau\u2019n may again aduance what now is downe:\n My friends be free, though I in bands be bound,\n That will not rest vntill thou be vncrown\u2019d.\u201d\n\n 18.\n\n The arrogant deliuerie of this speech,\n Vnto th\u2019impeachment of our royall right,\n Did in our former loue make such a breach,\n That with contracted brow for such despight,\n We did in rage command him from our sight,\n And did this cruell paine on him impose,\n That he for such offence his eyes should lose.\n\n 19.\n\n But when such readie instruments of ill,\n Who for reward act any villanie,\n To Rouen castle came t\u2019effect my will:\n _Hubert de Bourgh_ a man of valiancie,\n That then had _Arthur_ in his custodie,\n Withstood their purpose, and his part did take,\n Saying, that I those words in furie spake.\n\n 20.\n\n The heate of anger cool\u2019d, conscience began\n In th\u2019eare to whisper how I had offended,\n And when I heard how _Hubert_ valiant man,\n Prevented had what I in rage intended,\n As reason would, his courage I commended:\n Yet after this by _Arthur\u2019s_ haplesse woes,\n I did incurre the scandall of my foes.\n\n 21.\n\n Close kept in Rouen castle by that knight,\n Whose wals his steps from starting thence did bound,\n Casting in mind how to escape by flight,\n At last vnfortunate a way he found\n To climbe the wall, that did begirt him round:\n A forward mind impatient to sustaine,\n The losse of freedome did procure his baine.\n\n 22.\n\n Haste prickt him forward to redeeme the time,\n Greedie desire his freedome to regaine,\n Aboue the castle walles did cause him clime:\n From whence as enuious fate did first ordaine,\n He downe did fall into the riuer Seyne:\n Whose waues against that castle wals did swell,\n Where to the world he breath\u2019d his last farewell.\n\n 23.\n\n He dead, vnto my charge false _Philip_ laid\n That in his blood I had imbru\u2019d my hands,\n And in reuenge thereof did craue the aid\n Of many princes, who with warlike bands\n Did in their rage depopulate my lands:\n T\u2019whose distresse with aid I could not come,\n Worse fortunes did befall me heere at home.\n\n 24.\n\n Mischiefe on mischiefe fals t\u2019encrease my woes,\n At home my faithlesse barons do rebell,\n The Irish rise, the Welch turn\u2019d treacherous foes,\n And enuie, lest this monster I should quell\n Of many heads, her selfe comes vp from hell,\n And stirres vp Rome to ioyne her hands with hate;\n No king did fall beneath so hard a fate.\n\n 25.\n\n The heau\u2019ns foretold such things before their time,\n Before my haplesse hand that cup did take,\n In whose blacke deadly wine my death did swim,\n Th\u2019whole aggregate of heau\u2019n did seeme to shake,\n Sad signes on earth my tragicke fall forespake:\n Seldome such fatall deeds of death are done,\n But prodigies do their euents forerun.\n\n 26.\n\n Before the founder of that famous tower,\n Which ouer lookes our Thames\u2019 siluer cleare,\n Did in the senate meet his liue\u2019s late hower,\n Horrid ostents and accents full of feare,\n To many Roman eyes did oft appeare,\n The graues did open, and the dead did rise,\n Filling the streets with lamentable cries.\n\n 27.\n\n Before stout _Brutus_ that proud Roman lord,\n Whose bloodie hand strooke mightie _C\u00e6sar_ dead,\n With fatall blade his owne deare bodie gor\u2019d,\n Strange apparitions, full of feare and dread\n Foretold his heart blood should ere long be shead:\n Dead _C\u00e6sar\u2019s_ ghost spake to him in his tent,\n The night before his tragicke death\u2019s euent.\n\n 28.\n\n Before proud _Commodus_ that Roman king,\n With violent poyson did the combate trie,\n Heau\u2019n many wonders vnto light did bring,\n And many dreadfull meteors blaz\u2019d in skie,\n Flames of bright fire out of the earth did flie,\n Before he tooke that fatall cup of wine\n Of faithlesse _Martia_, his false concubine.\n\n 29.\n\n Before those mischiefes then were set abroch,\n Which did infect the peace of my estate,\n Before that lucklesse houre did then approch,\n In which that desperate villan did await\n With deadly wassaile to abridge my fate:\n Heau\u2019n did behold the earth with heauie cheare,\n And plaguefull meteors did in both appeare.\n\n 30.\n\n Fiue moones were in heau\u2019n\u2019s concaue nightly seene,\n As if that heau\u2019n vpon our state below,\n Foreseeing our harmes compassionate had been,\n And had foresent them with their shine to show\n To purblind England her approching woe:\n Who not being warn\u2019d by them of future harmes,\n Was after wakened by tempestuous stormes.\n\n 31.\n\n The earthquake-making God, to warne vs all,\n With violent hand shooke earth\u2019s foundation,\n And from his thickned clouds in stormes let fall\n Such showers of ycie bals, that vnto none\n In former times the like had ere been knowne:\n For euery hailestone of such thicknesse was,\n That it in compasse did foure inches passe.\n\n 32.\n\n Fire making rupture through the earth did breake,\n And burned many a towne and steeple high,\n Ghosts in high-waies were often heard to speake,\n And spirits in shapes of birds in darksome skie,\n With fire in their beakes about did flie:\n Wherewith they did afflict much scath and woe\n Vpon the countrie, flying to and fro.\n\n 33.\n\n O stubborne England, that with such foresigne\n From future euill couldst not warned bee:\n When heau\u2019n and earth destruction did diuine,\n For thy rebellious sinne to fall on thee,\n Why didst thou close thy eyes and would\u2019st not see?\n When God did thunder iudgement in thine eare,\n Why wert thou deafe, as if thou would\u2019st not heare?\n\n 34.\n\n For pitie reade thy ruine, drawing nigh,\n Vpon the crystall battlements of heauen,\n Where grau\u2019d in golden letters to each eie,\n Thou maiest behold thy wretched kingdome giuen\n Into a stranger\u2019s hand: thy sad king driuen\n To flie from thee forlorne and leaue his state,\n Sold to misfortune by his subiects hate.\n\n 35.\n\n Let time\u2019s blacke hand blot out the memorie\n Of that vile age, and let it not be said\n That _Iohn_ did euer guide this emperie,\n That future time with shame may not vpbraid\n This nation\u2019s name, by whom I was betraid,\n And say that subiects yet did neuer bring\n Such grieuous wrongs vpon a wretched king.\n\n 36.\n\n To guide thy muse, that she the cause may know\n Whence first these euils in the state did spring,\n To blood-built Rome, our Albion\u2019s ancient foe,\n Nurse of all factions, let her take swift wing,\n That when this wofull storie she shall sing,\n She truly may define the Roman hate,\n Which first did broch these mischiefes in our state.\n\n 37.\n\n When as our England\u2019s metropolitan\n Leauing his life, had left at emptie chaire,\n I did elect a right religious man,\n Who with the best might in those daies compare,\n For habitude to manage that affaire:\n In whose behalf at Rome I did entreate,\n That he might be installed in that seate.\n\n 38.\n\n Great Rome then in the ruffe of all her pride,\n Deiects my suite with proud contempt, and chose\n _Langton_, a man vnfit that place to guide,\n On which such trust in state we did repose,\n Since he was nurst in France amongst our foes:\n And might in time, bearing such rule in state,\n Vnto my fortunes worke vnluckie fate.\n\n 39.\n\n For this with Rome\u2019s proud priest thus I contend,\n \u201cThinke not,\u201d said I, \u201cthat I that right will yeeld,\n On which my royaltie doth sole depend,\n The same in spight of hate I trust to shield,\n While I shall liue this scepter\u2019s state to wield:\n No power on earth in my despight shall place\n A stranger in my realme to my disgrace.\n\n 40.\n\n If my decreed election may not stand,\n I vow by heau\u2019n, henceforth I will restraine\n Those passages to Rome out of this land,\n Which you hereafter will repent in vaine,\n Since by the same you haue no little gaine:\n For what need we to Rome a gadding go,\n Since many learned men this land can show?\u201d\n\n 41.\n\n Hence grew the hate that after did ensue,\n Heaping on wrongs vpon my grieued head:\n Rome\u2019s _Innocent_ when he these lines did view,\n Kindled with wrath, on raging furie fed,\n Which through his brest a deadly venom spred:\n Whose breath did soone infect our subiects blood,\n And bred a plague vnto the generall good.\n\n 42.\n\n Thinking it shame to his pompaticke state,\n To winke at my contempt of his command,\n With lips prophane, big swolne with eager hate,\n He breaths his curse gainst me, and gainst my land,\n To last so long as I his will withstand:\n And lockes vp all church gates by his great word,\n Forbidding vs accesse vnto the Lord.\n\n 43.\n\n Thou proud vsurper of our _Peter\u2019s_ key,\n Behold thy sinne, and blush at thy foule shame,\n Why didst thou locke the gate that leads the way\n Vnto the holy place? why didst thou name\n Thy selfe the rocke on whom that power that came\n To saue the world, his sacred church should found,\n And yet didst cast it then vnto the ground?\n\n 44.\n\n My people frightned with the roaring threat\n Of wrathfull bulles to England daily sent,\n Their due alleageance to their lord forget:\n Th\u2019inglorious peeres, as if the gouernment\n Had been transferr\u2019d from _Iohn_ to _Innocent_,\n Did shrinke from me, and would not by me stand,\n For th\u2019impeacht priuiledge of our free land.\n\n 45.\n\n Yet could all this not stoope my noble hart,\n The rebell priests, that did at his command\n Pronounce his curse prophane, did feele the smart\n Of their offence, and from my furious hand\n T\u2019escape my vow\u2019d reuenge, did flie the land,\n Leauing their sweet possessions for a pray,\n Which to my friends I freely gaue away.\n\n 46.\n\n After this curse it seem\u2019d my blisse begun:\n For when the stubborne Irish did rebell,\n Meth witnesse be of my atchieuements done:\n And let cold Snowden\u2019s barren mountaines tell,\n How the rebellious Welch my hand did quell:\n No wofull fate befell me at this season,\n Till my false peeres began to practise treason.\n\n 47.\n\n Infected with this curse, and hauing lost\n My wonted loue, they did with Rome consent:\n For as to Wales I marched with my host,\n The Scottish king their malice to preuent,\n Did send me letters of their whole intent,\n How they were bent, if I did forward goe,\n To kill me, or betray me to my foe.\n\n 48.\n\n Perplext in mind, thenceforth I stood in feare\n Of ruine threatned to my life and state:\n France did oppresse me, and the Welch did beare\n Rebellious armes: but such was my hard fate,\n None could oppose them through my barons hate:\n Yet I, on whom mine owne no mercie haue,\n In their distresse to strangers comfort gaue.\n\n 49.\n\n To me with care opprest, the Scotish king\n Letters did send full fraught with lines of woe,\n Which vnto me his sonne the prince did bring,\n By which he moued me, though once my foe,\n On his oppressed age remorse to show:\n For his base subiects gainst him did arise,\n And for his age his person did despise.\n\n 50.\n\n A mightie host with speed I did prepare,\n With which enrag\u2019d, I into Scotland went,\n Where, in that warre my sword but few did spare,\n That gainst their aged king their powers had bent,\n To take from his crowne and gouernment:\n _Guthred mac William_ cause of all this strife,\n Did with a traytor\u2019s death shut vp his life.\n\n 51.\n\n But let vs turne vs backe from Scotland\u2019s bounds,\n At home to view th\u2019effects of Roman hate:\n There see how _Innocent_ inflicts fresh wounds\n Vpon the mangled bodie of our state,\n Who since that no old mischiefe could abate\n The spirit inuincible of my great mind,\n To make me stoope, new mischiefes now did find.\n\n 52.\n\n By power of his vsurpt authoritie,\n He did absolue all subiects in my land,\n That by alleageance were oblig\u2019d to me:\n Then would he put into king _Philip\u2019s_ hand,\n The crowne and royall scepter of this land:\n If he from hence could me expell by might,\n Or take my life away by treacherous slight.\n\n 53.\n\n Thou that dost ride vpon the backes of kings,\n Yet feines to walke the steps of our deare Lord,\n Thou that dost make a cloake of holy things\n To hide thy shame, and leau\u2019st the sacred word,\n T\u2019oppose the Lord\u2019s anointed with the sword:\n Is this the path that th\u2019Holy One did passe?\n When he to _C\u00e6sar_ gaue, what _C\u00e6sar\u2019s_ was.\n\n 54.\n\n How canst thou wash thy hands of these foule crimes,\n When thou didst make this kingdome\u2019s crowne my shame:\n Let not posteritie in future times,\n Impute this fact to England\u2019s _Iohn_ for blame,\n That Rome did force him stoope to such defame:\n Since mine owne friends with all the world did frowne,\n Before proud Rome could cause me yeeld my crowne.\n\n 55.\n\n See on the seas where France her way doth take,\n To plucke me from my throne by force of hand:\n See how my faithlesse barons me forsake,\n And rather readie be themselues to band\n Against their prince, then in his quarrell stand:\n Yea see my houshold folke do me forgoe,\n And lift vp rebell hands to helpe my foe.\n\n 56.\n\n The stiffe-neckt priests the subiect to excite\n Against his king, a prophet did procure,\n Who by the skill of his propheticke sight,\n Of peace to come the people should assure,\n And that as king I should not long endure:\n To which th\u2019vnconstant people credit gaue,\n Whose minds in state do alterations craue.\n\n 57.\n\n In this distresse, in vaine I striue to stand\n Against th\u2019approching shame which I lament,\n Besieged round with feare on euery hand,\n Not knowing how such mischiefe to preuent,\n _Pandulph_ the legate comes from _Innocent_,\n To know if yet th\u2019effects of his proud frowne,\n Had in such dangers brought my stomack downe.\n\n 58.\n\n O vnkind England now behold and see\n Thy wronged king forlorne, and forc\u2019d by feare\n To yeeld his crowne vpon his bended knee:\n O deepe disgrace, that any prince can beare,\n O that such pride in prelates euer were:\n _Pandulph_ in signe that I my sinnes repent,\n Receiues my crowne giu\u2019n vp to _Innocent_.\n\n 59.\n\n Remitting former faults with gratious doome,\n And hauing kept my crowne for fiue daies space,\n As made contributorie vnto Rome,\n The same againe he on my head did place,\n And with my former title did me grace:\n To the French king likewise with speed he went,\n Charging him leaue his course for England bent.\n\n 60.\n\n But he in hope the diademe to gaine,\n Would not desist: but with a nauie came\n Of twice foure hundred ships vpon the maine:\n Whose powers t\u2019oppose, proud _Pandulph_ did proclame\n That all men should in _Innocentius_ name\n Lift vp their hands t\u2019auert those threatned harmes,\n Whereby the shores were stuft with men of armes.\n\n 61.\n\n Fiue hundred saile well mann\u2019d against the foes,\n I launcht into the seas with them to fight:\n And for the generall of the fight I chose\n My bastard brother, _William Longspath_ hight,\n Of those our troublous times the brauest knight,\n Who at this time his valiancie did show,\n In this sea-fight against th\u2019inuading foe.\n\n 62.\n\n Gainst whom they fought with such successefull hands,\n That on our side the conquest did remaine:\n _Philip_ disgrac\u2019d with his dismembred bands,\n Vnto his home returned backe againe,\n There to recure the losse he did sustaine:\n While I in vaine do seeke to heale my state,\n All rent and torne by mutinous debate.\n\n 63.\n\n Out of the ruines of my countrie\u2019s woe,\n What I to raise did carefull hands applie,\n My rebell barons downe againe did throw:\n To take aduantage, while my miserie\n Is yet but fresh, they me in field defie,\n For that to their demands I gaue no eare,\n Which to mine honor preiudiciall were.\n\n 64.\n\n By friends forlorne, they forced me by might\n To yeeld to them, to my disgrace and shame:\n The thought of which, and of that great despight\n Done by Rome\u2019s _Innocent_, did so inflame\n My heart with furie, that I did exclame\n Vpon my fates that did my daies prolong,\n In which I was ordain\u2019d t\u2019indure such wrong.\n\n 65.\n\n Of mine owne seruants left all desolate,\n But seuen in number did with me remaine,\n Pursu\u2019d by most disloyall people\u2019s hate:\n Oft with meane food my life I did sustaine,\n Lest they by poyson should procure my bane:\n And for my safetie with those few approued,\n In strange disguise I to and fro remoued.\n\n 66.\n\n In this distresse into the Ile of Wight\n My selfe in secret wise I did conuey,\n Where while I did remaine, in my despight\n Each slaue, whose heart my name could once affray,\n With barbarous taunts vpon the same did play:\n Some call\u2019d me fisherman, some rouing thiefe,\n That fled the land, at seas to find reliefe.\n\n 67.\n\n Such wrongs with patience I did seeme to beare,\n Dissembling wrath in my reuengefull mind,\n To such reports I seem\u2019d to giue no eare:\n But still did lie, as vnto peace inclin\u2019d,\n Till I fit opportunitie did find:\n For in the end when I return\u2019d againe,\n For such contempt they paid me double paine.\n\n 68.\n\n Receiuing aid from friends beyond the seas,\n Like to a tempest stooping downe from heau\u2019n,\n With spoilefull hands my kingdome I did sease,\n All in my furie were to slaughter giuen,\n My barons into flight with terror driuen:\n Fled from my face, and sought their heads to hide\n For their misdeeds, in field none durst abide.\n\n 69.\n\n They all vnable to withstand my might,\n Not with submission milde did mercie craue:\n To do to me and mine the more despight,\n To France they sent, desiring for to haue\n Prince _Lewis_ to their king, to whom they gaue\n Their promise to aduance him to the crowne,\n And as a tyrant king to cast me downe.\n\n 70.\n\n King _Philip_ fostring malice in his mind,\n And gainst me such aduantage hauing found,\n Though no pretence of title he could find,\n Whereon his purpos\u2019d enterprise to ground:\n Yet stretcht he out his arme our state to wound,\n And take from me and my posteritie,\n Our diademe and kingly royaltie.\n\n 71.\n\n For his proud sonne prince _Lewis_ he did send,\n With many a troope and many a warlike band,\n Whose wisht accesse my barons did attend,\n With all their troopes vpon the Kentish strand,\n Where with his host French _Lewis_ first tooke land:\n Whence with those traytors he to London went,\n Which in this treason did with them consent.\n\n 72.\n\n Then did begin my former miserie,\n For those, in whom chiefe trust I did repose,\n Those stranger souldiers all from me did flie,\n Except some few, that did lament my woes,\n And Douer castle kept against my foes,\n Vnto whose trust I did the same betake,\n All other seeming friends did me forsake.\n\n 73.\n\n But see the iudgement of almightie Ioue,\n On the disloyall people of this land:\n The conquering French, whose nature is to proue,\n Insulting ouer whom they beare command,\n Now being lords of all, with heauie hand\n The English people did begin t\u2019oppresse,\n Who could not helpe themselues in this distresse.\n\n 74.\n\n Thus did the King of heau\u2019n iust vengeance take\n On them, for their vniust disloyaltie:\n My part he did not vtterly forsake,\n But in the end did force my foes to flie,\n And leaue the crowne to my posteritie:\n For he did chuse out one amongst the foe,\n To be our enemie\u2019s chiefe ouerthrow.\n\n 75.\n\n There was a noble minded man of France,\n Vicount of Melum, and a Frenchman borne,\n Who falling sicke did waile the sad mischance\n Of th\u2019English, iustly made false fortune\u2019s scorne,\n That thus had left their king to liue forlorne:\n Yea with remorse his conscience it did sting,\n To see the subiect so oppresse the king.\n\n 76.\n\n When death in him began his due to take,\n He for my nobles secretly did send,\n To whom with fainting voice these words he spake:\n \u201cMy friends,\u201d quoth he, \u201cvnto my words attend,\n Which shall ere long for euermore haue end:\n Attend, I say, conscience bids me impart\n The things that now lie heauie on my hart.\n\n 77.\n\n Woe to the wretched people of this land,\n Which do their soueraigne lord and king forsake:\n Woe to your selues, that for your king should stand,\n Of whom a scorne vnto the world ye make:\n And woe vnto your children for your sake:\n Yea, woe to England euermore shall be,\n Vnlesse with speed ye seeke some remedie.\n\n 78.\n\n _Lewis_ our prince of late hath deepely sworne,\n And with him sixteene earles and barons more,\n That ye, that now haue left your king forlorne,\n Shall die the death, or else exil\u2019d deplore\n Your case in forren parts for euermore:\n Then let each peere with speed draw forth his sword,\n To helpe himselfe and his distressed lord.\n\n 79.\n\n If conscience cause me to bemone the chance\n Of this so braue a king, which ye possesse,\n To whom I am a stranger borne in France:\n Yea once his foe, though now as ye may gesse,\n I as a friend bewaile his sad distresse:\n How then should ye that are his liegemen borne,\n For this his sad mishap with sorow mourne?\n\n 80.\n\n Assist him then as dutie doth you bind,\n Pitie your selues and your posteritie:\n And keepe what I haue spoken in your mind,\n Of which no more to you I can descrie:\n For now my heart doth faile and I must die:\n _Adieu pourtant, Adieu \u00e0 chasqu\u2019amy.\n Adieu ie dis ma vie ce fini_.\u201d\n\n 81.\n\n My peeres forewarned of such treacherie,\n And with remorse viewing their natiue lands\n Betrai\u2019d to spoile by their disloyaltie,\n Did cast in mind how they with helping hands\n Might best restore themselues from captiue bands:\n And hoping now my grace againe to win,\n From _Lewis_ to decline they did begin.\n\n 82.\n\n Vpon th\u2019insulting French to powre my spleene,\n Throughout my kingdome\u2019s bounds I did proclaime,\n That all my subiects that had wronged been\n By forren foes, if vnto me they came\n With minds for fight, I would reuenge the same:\n Whereby with speed came many a worthie wight\n Vnder my standard gainst the French to fight.\n\n 83.\n\n Like raging storme blowne out of _Boreas_ mouth,\n With violent furie I did force my way,\n From east to west, from north vnto the south\n Destroying all things, that before vs lay:\n Which did our aduersaries so dismay,\n That none durst stand t\u2019oppose vs in the field,\n But readie way vnto our will did yeeld.\n\n 84.\n\n Had proud prince _Lewis_ met with me in fight,\n Our quarrell by the dint of sword to trie,\n Soone should I haue obtain\u2019d my kingdome\u2019s right,\n And made th\u2019vsurping prince from hence to flie,\n Who did support my peere\u2019s disloyaltie:\n But treason stretched out her deadly hand,\n Who twixt the French and my reuenge did stand.\n\n 85.\n\n In Swinsted abbie witnesse of my wrong,\n A monke there was, the worker of my bane,\n Who heard me vow that if I liued long,\n Through England I would raise the price of graine,\n To plague my subiects for their proud disdaine:\n Which was the cause, as fates did first decree,\n For which this villan monke did poyson mee.\n\n 86.\n\n To vent the poisned thoughts of his false brest,\n Loe all alone in dead time of the night,\n When euery one had laid him downe to rest,\n When aire was husht, when from the welkin bright\n The golden stars did cast a glimmering light,\n He forth did walke into a garden by,\n For to effect his wicked treacherie.\n\n 87.\n\n There as this villan wandred to and fro,\n To find some weed that had the power t\u2019expell\n The vitall spirit, or any aduerse foe\n To humane life, some kind of serpent fell,\n Or any thing that did with poyson swell:\n At last an vglie toad he haplesse found,\n Big swolne with poyson crawling on the ground:\n\n 88.\n\n With which full glad he did returne againe,\n And to his chamber secretly did goe,\n Where with his pen-knife he did pricke and paine\n The lothsome toade, from whom the blood did floe,\n By which the wicked monke did worke my woe:\n For poison which the toade did vomit vp,\n With wine he mixed in a fatall cup.\n\n 89.\n\n With which to me he came, and thus he spake,\n \u201cMy liege,\u201d said he, \u201ca cup of wine I bring,\n Of which if that your grace a taste will take,\n It will abate the edge of sorowe\u2019s sting,\n Which deepely seemes to wound my grieued king:\n With it to England\u2019s health I will begin,\n Whose woes for euermore be drown\u2019d herein.\u201d\n\n 90.\n\n Thus did this villan drinke, and dranke his last,\n And after vnto me the cup he gaue,\n Of which misdeeming nought, I straight did taste,\n Which done, not all the world my life could saue,\n So deadly was it tempered by the slaue:\n Th\u2019effects whereof before my death were knowne,\n Which came to passe immediatly thereon.\n\n 91.\n\n For when the raging venome had dispread\n It selfe throughout my bodie by the veines,\n My blood did boile, my heart began to dread,\n My bodie swell\u2019d, and when no hope remaines\n Of any helpe to remedie such paines:\n I for the monke did call to haue his head,\n But one did answere make, that he was dead.\n\n 92.\n\n \u201cThen God,\u201d quoth I, \u201chaue mercie on my soule,\n For of this wretched world no man am I,\n Seeing nothing may this venom\u2019s force controule:\n For sensiblie I feele how it doth lie\n Vpon my woefull heart, and I must die:\n Wherefore my sonne fetch hither vnto mee,\n That I before I die his face may see.\u201d\n\n 93.\n\n The child being brought, for then he was a child,\n To him I thus did speake with weeping eie:\n \u201cMy sonne,\u201d quoth I, \u201con whom my hopes I build:\n Come neere to me, where heere in paine I lie,\n Come neere and haue my blessing ere I die,\n Nought else to thee is left for me to leaue,\n Since of my crowne my foes do me bereaue.\n\n 94.\n\n Wherefore ye heau\u2019ns who do behold my woes,\n Now at my death giue eare vnto my prayer,\n Protect this child of mine from all his foes:\n And for your mercie\u2019s sake this infant spare,\n Whose tender age doth want your tender care:\n Else will that roring lion _Lewis_ kill\n This litle lambe, though he hath done none ill.\n\n 95.\n\n And thou, my litle sonne, take heed by me,\n That thou thy peeres and people\u2019s loue procure,\n Contend not thou with thy nobilitie:\n So shall thy state and kingdome long endure,\n And thou from forren foes liue safe and sure:\n For my false subiects vndeserued hate\n Did worke my woe, which I repent too late.\n\n 96.\n\n Renowned _Pembroke_, thou hast left my foe,\n Be thou protector to this pretie boy,\n And for the father\u2019s sake thy fauour show:\n When I am gone do thou thy strength employ\n Against all those that seeke this child\u2019s annoy:\n And ye, my other peeres, who once haue ben\n My foes, proue now true hearted noble men.\n\n 97.\n\n Redeeme your countrey from that captiue woe,\n Which from the roote of ciuill discord grew:\n Ioyne hearts and hands against the common foe:\n Forget old wrongs, vnto the prince proue true:\n Farewell, my daies be done, I die, adew.\u201d\n Thus after twice nine yeares of rule in state,\n I lost both life and rule by timelesse fate.\n\n 98.\n\n Behold the last effects of _Henrie\u2019s_ curse\n On his last sonne, for his rebellious pride:\n Let princes learne, that where debate, the nurce\n Of discord, doth the prince and peeres diuide,\n Nought but destruction can that state betide:\n Of which let that sad time of my short reigne,\n A Mirrour vnto future time remaine.\n\n\n\n\n THE WOFVLL LIFE AND\n\n _Death of King Edward the second_.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cWriters,\u201d quoth Memorie, \u201cwere much to blame\n Of _Iohn_, that noble prince, to speake such shame:\n But little credit vnto them we giue,\n Since they were foes to him, when he did liue:\n His first sonne _Henrie_, third of that same name,\n Did him succeed, and with his sword did tame\n That French prince _Lewis_, whom he forc\u2019d by might\n To leaue this kingdome, due to him of right:\n _Edward_ his sonne, the first that bore that name\n Since _William\u2019s_ conquest made, whose noble fame\n Shall neuer die, did in the throne succeed,\n And in his daies wrought many a worthie deed:\n Yet neither of these princes both did feele\n Th\u2019inconstant course of fortune\u2019s froward wheele:\n That _Edward_ of Carnaruan, third from _Iohn_,\n Is next in course, whom we must stay vpon:\n He in the first spring of his fatall raigne\n Recals the banisht _Gaueston_ againe,\n Exil\u2019d before by his renowned sire,\n At whose proud taunts the peeres being set on fire,\n Do quench it with his blood: the angrie king\n Vowes his reuenge, the valiant _Breuce_ doth bring\n His powers into the field, and in the fight\n At Banokesborne turnes th\u2019English into flight:\n Heau\u2019n, dearth, and death foretels the sad euent,\n Which did ensue vpon the riuer Trent:\n The queene is sent to France the peace t\u2019haue mou\u2019d,\n Proues false, returnes againe with her belou\u2019d:\n Arriues in armes, gainst whom the king craues aid,\n Who left forlorne, and at the last betrai\u2019d,\n Imprison\u2019d, and enforc\u2019d by parlament,\n Vnto his sonne resignes the gouernment:\n On him depos\u2019d, more mischiefe to inferre,\n His queene, the bishop, and her _Mortimer_,\n In darke enigma do conclude his death:\n And, lest that he should seeme t\u2019expire his breath\n By violent hand, a torment they deuise\n By which the king in Bercklie castle dies:\n Of which that we th\u2019vndoubted truth may haue,\n Let fame call vp his wronged ghost from graue.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n Fame summons vp the king: in briefe he showes\n How queene, peeres, people, all did him depose.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n That subtill serpent, seruile flatterie,\n Seldome infects the meaner man, that feares\n No change of state through fortune\u2019s treacherie:\n She spits her poison at the mightiest peeres,\n And with her charmes inchants the prince\u2019s eares:\n In sweetest wood the worme doth soonest breed,\n The caterpiller on best buds doth feed.\n\n 2.\n\n If slie dissimulation credit winne\n With any prince, that sits on highest throne,\n With honied poyson of soure sugred sinne,\n It causeth him turne tyrant to his owne,\n And to his state workes swift confusion,\n Aboue his cedar\u2019s top it high doth shoot,\n And canker-like deuoures it to the root.\n\n 3.\n\n Of which that thou a perfect Mirrour haue,\n The wronged ghost of that deposed king,\n Carnaruan\u2019s _Edward_, hath forgone his graue,\n Who does with him such dolefull tidings bring,\n That yet thy muse the like did neuer sing:\n Those sad mishaps which she before did show,\n Compar\u2019d to mine are counterfeits of woe.\n\n 4.\n\n To strengthen her complaint before she sing,\n And drowne her grieued thoughts in depth of woe:\n (Yee murdred ghosts, that vnder night\u2019s black wing,\n In vncouth paths doe wander to and fro,\n And oft in sighfull groanes your griefe do show)\n Haste vnto vs, and hauing heard our wrong,\n Help with your shrieks to make a mourneful song.\n\n 5.\n\n The quill of some sad turtle\u2019s wing applie\n That mourn\u2019d so long, till griefe did strike her dead:\n Blood be thy incke, which when it waxeth drie,\n Moisten with teares: and when all thine are shed,\n From euery eye, that haps these lines to reade,\n Let euery verse compos\u2019d, such sad sound beare,\n That for each word it may enforce a teare.\n\n 6.\n\n (Sorrow, distresse, and all that can be found\n Which once did helpe me waile my woefull smart,\n When fatall _Berckly\u2019s_ buildings did resound\n The echoing complaints of my poore hart)\n Grant your accesse, and helpe to beare a part,\n That our sad muse more ruthfully may sing,\n The storie of a dead deposed king.\n\n 7.\n\n I tell of honie-soothing parasites,\n Of stubborne peeres, who louing sterne debate,\n Did boldly braue me in two bloodie fights,\n Of a proud prelate\u2019s plots, of people\u2019s hate,\n Of the sad ruine of a royall state:\n And of a queene betrai\u2019d to fond desire\n Who too too cruell did my death conspire.\n\n 8.\n\n To the first _Edward_, since the Norman\u2019s name\n Grew famous for their crown\u2019d grac\u2019d victorie,\n The fourth of six of his faire sonnes I am,\n Mongst whom I was ordain\u2019d by destinie,\n To sway the scepter of this emperie:\n Before my kingly father left to liue,\n The first three borne to death his due did giue.\n\n 9.\n\n I did suruiue, the yongest of the foure,\n And did succeed my sire in royall chaire:\n But did not treade the path which he before\n Had with his vertuous foot-steps beaten faire:\n Birth binds not vertue to succeed in th\u2019heire,\n Else why did I of such illustrate race,\n Obscure his vertuous deeds with my disgrace?\n\n 10.\n\n Had I but tract the steps of such a sire\n To perfect that great worke, which he begun,\n Had princely thoughts but mounted my desire\n T\u2019assay like glorious deeds, which he had done,\n O what a prize of honor had I wonne!\n But discord sent from hell did ruine bring,\n Euen at that time, that I was crown\u2019d a king.\n\n 11.\n\n As th\u2019holy priest with sanctified hand\n The precious vnguent on my head should powre,\n And as before the altar I did stand,\n Discord the furie sent from that blacke shore\n By damned _Dis_ where _Phlegeton_ doth rore,\n Shapt like th\u2019appointed priest whose hallowed hand\n Should me annoint, by me vnknowne did stand.\n\n 12.\n\n Approching nigh, the venome she did shed\n Of sad _Cocytus_ poole, which she did bring\n In her blacke viall, on my haplesse head,\n Whose banefull sauour borne on furie\u2019s wing,\n Did not alone infect th\u2019anointed king:\n But round diffus\u2019d, as sent from peere to peere,\n Did poyson those high bloods that present were.\n\n 13.\n\n The ranke contagion of this foule disease\n With rauing looke the mightiest in the state,\n Whose desperate rage with remedie t\u2019appease,\n Warre rouz\u2019d himselfe at home, who had of late\n Slept in the bosome of pernicious hate:\n And did incite them in pretence of good,\n With their owne swords to let their bodies blood.\n\n 14.\n\n O most remorselesse of that impious age,\n That did not only then deny your aide\n To your deare countrie, when with barbarous rage\n The bordering foes her bosome did inuade,\n And in her wombe such ghastly wounds had made,\n But as a nation borne of viper\u2019s brood,\n O shame to tell, did daily sucke her blood.\n\n 15.\n\n Great queene of sea-siedg\u2019d iles, what canst thou show\n Of that good hap, when _Edward_ thy late king\n Did safely bulwarke thee against thy foe?\n Thy _Edward_ now doth with his minions sing,\n While thou thy hands in wretchednesse dost wring:\n And _Brewse_ doth mangle thee with many a scarre,\n While thy proud peeres prepare for ciuill warre.\n\n 16.\n\n In our discourse, that we a method haue\n Of euery action, let vs briefely tell\n In his due place, which time and order gaue:\n And that we may first know those causes well,\n From whence these sad effects produc\u2019d befell,\n In the respectiue scope of this our storie,\n Let vs looke backe to _Edward\u2019s_ daies of glorie.\n\n 17.\n\n In the fresh blossome of my youthfull spring,\n Sucking the sugered poison of delight,\n Euen then when with strict hand the carefull king\n Kept backe my youth, I on the baites did bite\n Of _Gaueston_ that soothing parasite:\n A yong esquire of Gascoyne in faire feature,\n Shapt like an angell: but of euill nature.\n\n 18.\n\n My royall father, who with iudgement\u2019s eie\n Could sound the depth of things, perceiuing well\n How follie did by him her charmes applie,\n T\u2019inchant my youth: such mischiefe to repell,\n Did him exile, lest by the powerfull spell\n Of his allurements drawne from all renowne,\n I should be made vnworthie of a crowne.\n\n 19.\n\n O prudent prince! the depth of that decree\n Which heau\u2019n did purpose by my _Gaueston_,\n Too secret was for humane sense to see,\n Who did ordaine, that exil\u2019d minion\n To ruine _Edward_ and thy royall throne:\n For though an exile he did then depart,\n Yet with him went thy wanton _Edward\u2019s_ heart.\n\n 20.\n\n Too late it was that obiect to remoue,\n To whom in fancie\u2019s cup I long before\n Had quaff\u2019d so deepe, that surfetting with loue,\n Heart-sicke I was till time did him restore,\n And set him once againe on England\u2019s shore:\n Forgetfull of my faith to _Edward_ dead,\n Not to reuoke, whom he had banished.\n\n 21.\n\n His bones were yet scarce cold, his royall throne\n Scarce warme beneath me was, when in the same\n I did embrace my deare, lou\u2019d _Gaueston_,\n Who as infected with contagious shame\n Of some corrupted place, from whence he came,\n Throughout the land in little space did spread,\n That foule disease which our destruction bread.\n\n 22.\n\n In court the leprous spots of his delights\n Vnto the palace wals so fast do cleaue,\n That from my presence all the noblest wights\n Withdraw themselues, and in their roomes do leaue\n Those vp-starts base, who them of grace bereaue:\n No man is held to be the king\u2019s true friend,\n But he that doth his _Gaueston_ commend.\n\n 23.\n\n His lips were made the oracles, from whence\n I tooke aduice, he in the counsell sits,\n Graue states as enemies are banisht thence,\n The shallow-brain\u2019d yong giddie-headed wits,\n Our wanton humour with best counsell fits,\n The sage instructions of the wise man\u2019s mouth,\n Do sound harsh musike in the eares of youth.\n\n 24.\n\n This was the spring, from whence at first did floe\n Those streames of strife, which rising like a flood\n Do ouerwhelme my state in waues of woe,\n Which threat confusion to the common good,\n Which first in death do coole my barons blood:\n And which yet swelling higher, lastly bring\n A violent downefall to a royall king.\n\n 25.\n\n My _Gaueston_, in maiestie\u2019s great armes\n Being safely hug\u2019d, no change of fortune feares:\n He wantons with the king, soothes his owne harmes,\n He playes the buffon\u2019s part, he flouts and ieers\n The courtly actions of the honor\u2019d peeres:\n The great in counsell and the noble borne,\n Are made the subiect of his hatefull scorne.\n\n 26.\n\n Sterne wrath to let loose rage, steps vp from hell,\n Conducts my peeres from court vnto the campe,\n She claps her hands and with a countnance fell,\n Gnashing her teeth doth fiercely raue and rampe,\n And with her feet vpon the ground doth stampe:\n Then whets them to reuenge in their rash mood,\n Whose furious thirst must be allaid with blood.\n\n 27.\n\n Twice was my minion as an exile sent\n To forren shores, their furie to restraine,\n And twice againe reuokte with their assent,\n Who now no longer able to refraine,\n Prouokte with daily wrongs of his disdaine,\n He being betrai\u2019d, for vengeance all do call,\n On Gauer\u2019s heath, where _Gaueston_ did fall.\n\n 28.\n\n They wreake their vengeance in his reeking blood,\n My sighes they laugh to scorne, while I lament,\n With faire pretence to further common good\n They vnderpop their cause, and to preuent\n The mischiefe, that may grow from discontent,\n To tracke me step by step in euery thing,\n Whom they do please, they place about their king.\n\n 29.\n\n Feeding on griefe for _Gaueston_ deceast,\n And blushing at such wrong done to my state,\n Reuenge doth burne in my distempred brest,\n Anger takes hands with griefe, all ioyne with hate,\n And to the peeres threaten pernicious fate,\n Who, lest time weaken rage then too too strong,\n Do giue it strength by adding daily wrong.\n\n 30.\n\n In this dissension, while on euery hand,\n We for our owne destruction do prepare,\n Newes from the north giues vs to vnderstand,\n How valiant _Brewse_ in his successefull warre\n Against our powers doth prosperously fare,\n Recouering that from vs againe, with more,\n Which our dread sire had kept from him before.\n\n 31.\n\n Beyond the bounds of his owne natiue soile,\n He proudly breakes vpon our bordering coast,\n None seekes t\u2019oppose, he makes no faint recoile:\n The spoile and riches of whole countries lost\n Can hardly bound the furie of his host,\n Neuer did bordering foe inuade so far,\n Or wound our kingdome with a greater scar.\n\n 32.\n\n Tempestuous tidings borne on Boreas breath\n Cooles the hot vengeance of a wrathfull king,\n And for a while delaies prepared death\n For his proud peeres, feare from the north on wing\n Comes flying fast, and 'bout our eares doth ring,\n Bidding vs haste, and powre our vengeance forth\n Vpon our foes, that brau\u2019d vs in the north.\n\n 33.\n\n Mustering vp troopes of foot-men for the field,\n To passe in person for this great affaire,\n My hopes on number I do vainly build:\n Our thoughts made aduerse by the former iar,\n Prepare vs mischiefe in the following war:\n Disioyn\u2019d in heart, yet ioyn\u2019d in ranke we goe,\n To giue a famous conquest to the foe.\n\n 34.\n\n Stout _Brewse_ renownes his sword with _Edward\u2019s_ flight,\n Striuiling, whose siege our rescue crau\u2019d, can tell\n England\u2019s misfortune in that haplesse fight:\n And Banokesborne, who 'boue her bounds did swell\n With bodies dead, that in that battell fell,\n Aboue the bordering brookes hath won a name\n Fam\u2019d for this field thus fought vpon the same.\n\n 35.\n\n O noble nation, t\u2019whom true fame hath giuen\n A glorious name for deeds accomplished,\n Equall with any people\u2019s vnder heau\u2019n,\n Be not dismai\u2019d, \u2019twas I, \u2019twas I, that led\n To such mishap, on whose vnhappie head\n Heau\u2019n neuer smil\u2019d, but with sterne lookes still frown\u2019d\n Till wearied with mishaps, I was vncrown\u2019d.\n\n 36.\n\n O had I perisht by the sword of _Brewse_,\n And had not been reseru\u2019d to future daies,\n To see my peeres with treason take a truce,\n And with their swords by all uniust assaies,\n Attempt to hew downe him, whom heau\u2019n did raise:\n I had been blest, and had not liu\u2019d to rue\n The woes yet worse, which after did ensue.\n\n 37.\n\n Th\u2019inueterate wounds of wrong infixt so deepe,\n Against my barons in my swolne heart,\n With drops of blood now made afresh to weepe,\n That I from _Brewse_ should thus with shame depart,\n Did so augment my mind\u2019s impatient smart,\n That by my peeres mine ire now new stirr\u2019d vp,\n I with their blood quencht in _Bellonae\u2019s_ cup.\n\n 38.\n\n What they do plot is by my powre controul\u2019d,\n What I intend, vnreuerently they crosse:\n What they do wish, I will not: what I would,\n They do gain-say, though to a publike losse:\n Thus vpon mischiefe\u2019s racket do we tosse\n The common good, till bandied by vs all\n Into confusion\u2019s hazard it do fall.\n\n 39.\n\n Both heau\u2019n and earth, as if in mourning clad,\n They did bewaile, what they could not preuent,\n When on our selues, our selues no pittie had,\n Denide those comforts in due season sent,\n Which to this nation they before had lent:\n As with their anger they would vs recall\n From running headlong, where we needs must fall.\n\n 40.\n\n Towards th\u2019Articke side of heau\u2019n ore Albion\u2019s rocks,\n A blazing meteor stood in th\u2019vpper aire,\n Which with grim looke shaking his dreadfull locks,\n Bids earth be barren, and the world despaire:\n Then cals the furies with the snakie haire,\n To execute that vengeance to succeed,\n Which fates for wretched England had decreed.\n\n 41.\n\n Famine, forerunner to deuouring death,\n Haunts euery coast, where food is to be found,\n The fruits are blasted by her banefull breath,\n She makes the clouds to drop, till that be drown\u2019d,\n Which plentie\u2019s hand had hidden in the ground:\n Then doth she ransacke both the rich and poore,\n Deuouring all, till she can find no more.\n\n 42.\n\n If euer pitie moue a stonie eie,\n Let her present our age for map of woe,\n There see for food, how little infants crie,\n Whom, parents wanting, what they would bestow,\n With griefe are either forced to forgo,\n Or else with weeping woe to sit them by,\n Till faint for food before their face they die.\n\n 43.\n\n The spouse, that wants to feed her fruitfull wombe,\n Burying the babe, that neuer came from graue,\n Cries, in her deare\u2019s deare armes, for death to come,\n Who mad with sorrow and in hope to haue\n That left of death, which loue desires to saue:\n A horrid thing to tell, to saue his owne,\n Steales other\u2019s children for to feed vpon.\n\n 44.\n\n When leane-fac\u2019d famine, who with furious thirst\n Coasting the countrie, through the land had run,\n Began to breath as hauing done their worst,\n That other furie pastilence begun\n To finish that, which they had left vndone,\n Who 'boue our heads in the infected aire,\n Her poysned shafts for battaile did prepare.\n\n 45.\n\n Her angrie arrowes euery way do flie,\n Thousands on either hand in death do fall:\n But happie they in blessed peace to die,\n Not left with vs to liue, when death did call,\n To see blood-thirstie warre the worst of all:\n That vniuersall flood of woes powre downe\n In seas of blood, this wretched land to drowne.\n\n 46.\n\n In midst of these extreames with griefe cast downe,\n The measure of our miserie to fill,\n My stubborne peers take armes, and proudly frowne,\n Threatning in rage that little left to spill,\n If basely I submit not to their will:\n And exile those, whom they themselues did place\n In stead of _Gaueston_ t\u2019attend our grace.\n\n 47.\n\n He that in bosome of a prince doth dwell,\n And by endeuour seekes to gaine his grace,\n Though for his seruice he deserue it well:\n Yet as the deere pursu\u2019d from place to place,\n The enuious dog will haue him still in chase:\n Danger in chiefest safetie it doth bring,\n To seeme to be familiar with a king.\n\n 48.\n\n _Spenser_, the man, on whom at first I frown\u2019d,\n Whom they preferr\u2019d, my _Gaueston_ being dead,\n Was he, whom they pretend to be the ground\n Of all their griefe, gainst him they now made head,\n He was of vs too highly fauoured:\n Him must we banish, so they thinke it fit,\n If on our throne in safetie we will sit.\n\n 49.\n\n _William de Brewse_ in selling _Gower\u2019s_ land\n To yonger _Spenser_ from the other peeres,\n Who would haue brought the same at _Brewse\u2019s_ hand,\n First blew the coles, whence now that flame appeares,\n Which had been hid in anger many yeares:\n This is the cause of their conceiued ire,\n For this in armes gainst me they do conspire.\n\n 50.\n\n Disloyall _Lancaster_, that did conduct\n The rebels to the field, by letters sent\n With termes vnfit his soueraigne will instruct,\n Assigning daies, within whose termament,\n I should reforme such things in gouernment,\n Which he mislikes, thus adding to that fire,\n Which did at length consume him in our ire.\n\n 51.\n\n This fire yet burning in our royall brest,\n The queene doth with complaint her wrongs prefer,\n That in her progresse after long vnrest,\n Our late false steward lord _Badelismere_,\n Confederate with rebellious _Lancaster_,\n Vnkindly had deni\u2019d in my despight,\n Her lodging in Leeds castle for a night.\n\n 52.\n\n To make our furie in reuenge more strong,\n Letters from Scotland intercepted were,\n Which touch vs neerer then all former wrong,\n In number six: the one of which did beare\n The armes of _Dowglas_, sent to _Lancaster_,\n In which the _Dowglas_ to conceale his name,\n Vnto king _Arthur_ doth direct the same.\n\n 53.\n\n Prouokt to vengeance for such treacherous spight,\n From London with our royall powres we past,\n Whose stomackes fill\u2019d with furie for the fight,\n I vrged forward with the vtmost hast,\n To lay the manours and the lordships wast\n Of our proud barons, promising for pray\n All that was theirs, that came within their way.\n\n 54.\n\n Newes of th\u2019vnnaturall deeds which they enact\n Vpon the loyall people of our land,\n Hasten vs forward with such speed exact,\n That ere the _Mortimers_, who both did band\n Themselues with _Lancaster_, did vnderstand\n Of our approch our royall armed traine,\n At Shrewsburie did front them on the plaine.\n\n 55.\n\n Far from confederates amaz\u2019d with wonder,\n At our approch, both daunted to behold\n Our frownes of lightning, and our threats of thunder,\n Hang downe their heads, scarce daring be so bold\n As looke on vs, their fainting hearts wax cold,\n And on their knees they fall, in hope to stay\n Our angrie doome, that threatned their decay.\n\n 56.\n\n Yeelding to fate by force of destinie,\n Whose foreappointing prouidence hath power\n In euery thing t\u2019enforce necessitie,\n We grant them life, reseruing in the tower\n That _Mortimer_ at London for that hower,\n In which by destiny it was set downe,\n That that false lord should ruine my renowne.\n\n 57.\n\n Marching more northward from the Cambrian coast,\n While vengefull breath the fire of furie fans,\n After such good successe to bring our host\n To Pomfret, which gainst vs our barons mans:\n At last we lite like flockes of snow-white swans\n Fast by the weeping Eye, which runneth downe\n Into the Trent by little Caldwel\u2019s towne.\n\n 58.\n\n There first did Needwood\u2019s echoing forrest tell\n The stubborne barons of our whole intent,\n There first they seeke our forces to repell,\n When with their powers our passage to preuent,\n Intended ore the bosome of the Trent,\n They interrupt our purpose with proud braues,\n On Burton bridge ore fishie Trent\u2019s blacke waues.\n\n 59.\n\n The riuer\u2019s watrie wombe did proudly swell,\n As if it had turn\u2019d rebell with the foes,\n Or as if louing either armie well,\n It would preuent poore England of the woes\n Which must ensue, if both parts came to bloes:\n Her waters rose beyond their wonted bounds,\n And for three daies deferr\u2019d vnnaturall wounds.\n\n 60.\n\n Aquarius with the foot-bands manly fought\n Gainst those, that on the bridge at Burton stood,\n While with our troopes vnseene we cast about\n Vnder the couert of a leauie wood,\n Distant three miles from thence, where ore the flood\n Th\u2019whole host did passe by shallowes lately found,\n To meete the barons vpon equall ground.\n\n 61.\n\n The deadly drum doth tell the foes from far\n The fatall march of their approching king:\n Who seeing their weaknesse to sustaine the war\n Gainst such a powre, which with vs we do bring,\n They turne their backes, swift feare their feet doth wing:\n Yet stubborne men still to prouoke our ire,\n Before they flie, they set the towne on fire.\n\n 62.\n\n Horrour pursues them euery way they flie,\n Repentance comes too late to calme our frowne,\n All former wrongs afresh for vengeance crie,\n They, that did whilome wish them all renowne,\n By aduerse fortune being thus cast downe,\n Lift vp their hands, yet lower to suppresse them,\n All friends turne foes in pursuite to distresse them.\n\n 63.\n\n At Burrough bridge, in their vnluckie flight,\n Where for th\u2019encounter death did readie stand,\n They were enforc\u2019d in most vnequall fight,\n For loued life to vse defensiue hand\n Against the stubborne bands of Cumberland:\n Led by stout _Herckley_, who with bold assay\n Of his drawne sword began a bloodie day.\n\n 64.\n\n In mutuall slaughter, both the hosts do stand,\n Earth trembling shakes beneath their trampling feet,\n The singing shafts thicke loos\u2019d on euery hand,\n Flie to and fro, then hand to hand they meet,\n And wound for wound each doth the other greet,\n While ouer head the heau\u2019n\u2019s remorsefull stood\n Dropping downe teares to see their sides drop blood.\n\n 65.\n\n Valiant _Bohume_, Herford\u2019s vndanted lord,\n That stood in fight by foes besieged round,\n His heart not female made to flie as skar\u2019d,\n Neuer gaue backe, but brauely kept his ground,\n Till life gaue backe from that same deadly wound,\n Giu\u2019n by a stout Welch Britaine, that did stand\n Beneath the bridge with fatall speare in hand.\n\n 66.\n\n This lucklesse chance so terrifi\u2019d the foe,\n And gaue such strength vnto the northerne bands,\n That th\u2019aduerse part their backes began to show,\n _Clifford_, though wounded with a shaft, yet stands\n With _Lancaster_ in fight, till on all hands,\n Opprest with multitude, themselues they yeeld,\n To conquering _Herckley_ victour of the field.\n\n 67.\n\n Thus hautie _Lancaster_, that did not feare\n To tempt his soueraigne\u2019s peace with periur\u2019d hate,\n Who in the morning was the mightiest peere\n That \u2019gainst his prince did euer moue debate,\n By night was made the meanest in the state:\n In right or wrong, who euer lifts his hand\n Against his prince, his cause doth seldome stand.\n\n 68.\n\n Not he alone made forfeit of his head,\n Who in this proud rebellion led the ring,\n The fatall axe strooke many others dead,\n Hewing downe all, that had conspir\u2019d to bring\n Their powers for fight against their lawfull king:\n Twice eight great barons and as many knights\n In death paid paines for wrong t\u2019our kingly rites.\n\n 69.\n\n O age infortunate, when subiects pride\n Did force their soueraigne to such deeds of woe,\n That when all men had laid remorse aside,\n The sunne in heau\u2019n his griefe in shame to show\n Six houres with blood-red cheeks on th\u2019earth below,\n Did blush to see her soile drinke vp their blood,\n Who liuing oft in her defence had stood.\n\n 70.\n\n Imprudent prince, since rage did lift thy hand\n To lop the pillers of thy kingdome downe,\n On whose supportfull powers thy state should stand:\n Looke for a ruthlesse ruine of thy crowne,\n Looke helplesse now in wretchednesse to drowne:\n The dance vnto destruction they haue led,\n And the same feeting I the king must tread.\n\n 71.\n\n When th\u2019hand of Ioue the mightie men shall take\n From any state, for their rebellious pride,\n By such foresigne this vse we well may make,\n Some after-storme of vengeance will betide\n That haplesse land, who euer it doth guide:\n The sad effusion of the noble blood,\n Portends confusion to the common good.\n\n 72.\n\n With dolefull pen I could bewaile their woe,\n Whose wofull wants did after proue me weake:\n But far more horrid things we are to show,\n To those blacke deeds, of which we now must speake:\n They before spoken did that ice but breake,\n At which we falling in did helplesse drowne,\n Once fallen, all do helpe to keepe vs downe.\n\n 73.\n\n Not _Herkleye\u2019s_ treason plotted in that truce,\n Which for aduancement, most ambitious man,\n He did intend t\u2019our aduersarie _Brewce_:\n Nor the new troubles, which _Valoys_ began\n In our dominions Guien and Aquitaine,\n Shall be the subiect of our sadder verse:\n Matter of more importance we rehearse.\n\n 74.\n\n O _Isabel_ my queene, my vnkind queene,\n Thy shame must be the subiect of our song,\n Had not the weaknesse of thy faith been seene,\n When faithlesse thou wast led to do that wrong\n To him that liu\u2019d in loue with thee so long:\n That royall blood in Berklie castle spilt,\n Had now not stain\u2019d our storie with thy guilt.\n\n 75.\n\n The scene of lust foreruns the act of blood,\n Priapus doth his lustfull breath inspire\n Into the queene, the ocean\u2019s wauie flood\n Cannot extinguish fancie\u2019s burning fire,\n Nor coole the scalding thirst of her desire:\n With heate of lust her inward heart doth gloe,\n T\u2019imprisoned _Mortimer_ my mortall foe.\n\n 76.\n\n Heere let not any take offensiue spleene,\n Or taxe these rimes, for that to light they bring\n Th\u2019incontinence of our disloyall queene:\n Nor thy muse grieue this argument to sing,\n Which is confirmed by the wronged king:\n Foule is the fault, though nere so quaint the skill,\n That conceales truth to lessen any ill.\n\n 77.\n\n _Wigmore\u2019s_ false _Mortimer_, (whose fatall name\n Vniuocall to him of all his line:\n Whether from feare of death we fetch the same,\n Or of the dead seas sinke we it define,\n The deeds of death t\u2019ensue doth well diuine)\n Reserued was by fate within the tower,\n With time to turne the glasse of my last houre.\n\n 78.\n\n On him the queene by loose affection led\n Did cast her fancie, burning in the flame\n Of priuie lust, which strong desier fed:\n And wanting her delight in wanton game,\n To coole her lust-burnt blood with dregs of shame,\n Did cast about how she might him release,\n That he might giue her loue-sicke passions ease.\n\n 79.\n\n It is not bands, nor walles, nor thousands spies\n That can the woman\u2019s wicked will preuent:\n Let loue intreate, set shame before her eies,\n Let plighted faith, first virgin vow\u2019d consent,\n And the wombe\u2019s fruit that giues loue most content,\n Perswade with her: yet can they neuer stay\n Her wanton will, if she will go astray.\n\n 80.\n\n By sleepie potion of effectuall power\n To charme the sense, whether by her conuey\u2019d,\n Or by himselfe deuised in the tower,\n _Segraue_ the constable was captiue made,\n With many more to senselesse sleepe betray\u2019d:\n While _Mortimer_, vnthought vpon, escapes\n And vnto France his prosperous iourney shapes.\n\n 81.\n\n Thus far did fortune with my queene conspire,\n And after this good hap to giue full ease\n Vnto the longing thirst of her desire,\n Tels her how France inuades beyond the seas,\n Which vp in armes she needs must go t\u2019appease:\n When resolution hath prepar\u2019d the will,\n It wants no helpes to further any ill.\n\n 82.\n\n Through our neglect of homage to be made,\n Constrain\u2019d thereto by our home-bred debate,\n _Valoys_ her brother did our lands inuade,\n And through late wounds made in our mangled state,\n In armes vnable to withstand his hate:\n To treate with him of peace our queene we sent,\n In her vow\u2019d faith being too too confident.\n\n 83.\n\n O powre diuine, what mortall wight hath wings\n To soare the height of thy vnknowne decree?\n Reason, that hath such power in search of things,\n Proues then most blind, when most it seemes to see,\n In vainly arguing of what must bee:\n When reason bids no danger to suspect,\n Time hastens swift confusion in effect.\n\n 84.\n\n The queene effecting that, for which she went,\n With these conditions reunites the peace,\n That to such couenants I should consent,\n Aniou and Aquitaine I should release\n Vnto my sonne, my title should surcease:\n And he to France as in times past 't had bin,\n Should do his homage for his right therein.\n\n 85.\n\n Pleas\u2019d in this peace, my selfe, or my yong sonne\n Inioyn\u2019d in person to confirme these things,\n The _Spencers_ both being into hatred run,\n Not daring be from vnder my safe wings,\n So absolute we thinke the power of kings,\n Perswade me heere to stay and send my sonne,\n In hope thereby, what they did feare, to shun.\n\n 86.\n\n Thus all hands helping, _Isabel_ againe\n To forward that which she on foot had set,\n I hauing past my title t\u2019Aquitaine\n Vnto the prince my sonne, she sees no let,\n But that more easly she the rest may get:\n So large a share cut from vs by her skill,\n She hopes to haue the whole or want her will.\n\n 87.\n\n Hauing obtain\u2019d in France what we require,\n She call\u2019d vpon to make returne with speed,\n Protracts the time, and feasting her desire\n So long with _Mortimer_, that she doth need\n Excuse to warrant her presumptuous deed:\n Giues flat deniall to her lord\u2019s command,\n Not to returne except with force of hand.\n\n 88.\n\n Many, that wau\u2019ring wish\u2019d a change in state,\n And more, that on reuenge so long had fed\n For losse of friends, that fell in that debate\n Betwixt vs and our barons, daily fled\n Vnto the queene, whose heart being stricken dead,\n As wanting strength to manage her affaire,\n They do reuiue with powre by their repaire.\n\n 89.\n\n While in the French court, yet vnfrown\u2019d vpon\n By _Charles_ her brother king, she did abide,\n Our Exceter\u2019s true bishop _Stapleton_,\n Ioyn\u2019d in commission with her to decide\n The iar \u2019twixt vs and France, now seeing her pride\n Burst out in plaine reuolt, returning ouer\n The seas from her, did all her drifts discouer.\n\n 90.\n\n Thus their close treason bare and naked made,\n As blushing at their open shame descride,\n To cloake the cause of their intent t\u2019inuade,\n They vow no more to brooke the _Spencers_ pride,\n Nor shall the queene vniustly be denide\n The presence of the king, they all will die,\n Or order things that stand in state awrie.\n\n 91.\n\n King _Charles_ her brother, while they thus deuise,\n Whether with our rich gifts or promise won,\n Or with respect to his owne royalties,\n Or that he would not be a looker on,\n While vnto maiestie such wrong was done:\n First wooes our queene for peace, whom wilfull bent,\n He exiles France to frustrate her intent.\n\n 92.\n\n Who now would thinke that she should euer find\n A hopefull helpe her weaknesse to repaire?\n Bewitching beautie, O how dost thou blind\n The eyes of man! thy soule is deemed faire,\n Thy euill good, thy vice a vertue rare:\n In thy distresse although thy cause be wrong,\n Thou mou\u2019st remorse and mak\u2019st thy partie strong.\n\n 93.\n\n Those yonger bloods, _Arthois_ and _Beaumont_,\n Without respect vnto her cause\u2019s right,\n Those certaine helpes to her do oft recount\n In Heinault to be found, if she excite\n The earle thereof to pitie her sad plight:\n Which by a match pretended might be done,\n Betwixt his daughter and the prince our sonne.\n\n 94.\n\n As they gaue counsell, so it came to passe,\n She t\u2019Heinault goes with _Beaumont_ for her guide,\n And with kind welcome entertained was:\n Where while _Heinault_ and she with ioy prouide\n To make his daughter our yong _Edward\u2019s_ bride,\n To England lets turne backe, and see at home\n How we prepare against the storme to come.\n\n 95.\n\n To stand vpon our guard against such harme,\n And backe our cause against inuading ill,\n All castles and strong holds with men we arme,\n The coasts are kept, beacons on euery hill\n Are set for spies: O had the ioynt good will\n Of subiects loue with me their soueraigne bin,\n Th\u2019inuading foes had found hard entrance in.\n\n 96.\n\n In vaine, O wretched king, thy hopes haue trust\n On broken faithes of subiects daily fleeting:\n Thy lot is cast, from throne thou shalt be thrust,\n Thy foes shall of thy subiects at their meeting,\n In stead of blowes, be welcom\u2019d with kind greeting:\n Thou only seek\u2019st to keepe out th\u2019vnkind queene,\n While heere at home worse dangers are vnseene.\n\n 97.\n\n Whilst now my state begins for to decline,\n In whom, alas, should I my trust repose?\n My brother _Kent_ then resident in Guine\n For some displeasure done to him by those\n 'Bout vs at home, reuolts vnto our foes:\n O faithlesse _Kent_, thou art the first shalt rue,\n That euer thou to _Edward_ wast vntrue.\n\n 98.\n\n Treason transports, what traytors looke for heere,\n The queen\u2019s stout champion _Iohn_ of _Beaumont_ comes\n With his proud troopes, three thousand men well neere,\n Promis\u2019d rich pay in ransacke of our summes,\n Who now aboord with trumpets and with drummes,\n Vrg\u2019d by the hastie queene to launch the deepe\n With winde-wing\u2019d sailes the seas soft bosome sweepe.\n\n 99.\n\n O let the windes their forward course restraine,\n Wing not such mischiefe to our natiue shore,\n Let the proud billowes beate them backe againe:\n Or if they needs must come, let the seas rore,\n Hurle them on rockes that they may neuer more\n Be seene in England in pretence of good,\n To bathe their hands in _Edward\u2019s_ royall blood.\n\n 100.\n\n Orwell thy hauen first did let them in,\n Harwich with bels did welcome in their fleet:\n No sooner did our _Isabel_ begin\n To presse the sandie shore with wanton feet,\n But our earle marshall with his powres did greet\n Her safe arriue, whose part, false peere, had bin\n To haue oppos\u2019d her at her entrance in.\n\n 101.\n\n The brother to that lord that lost his head,\n _Leister\u2019s_ great earle did now lift vp his hand,\n As in reuenge of _Lancaster_ late dead,\n T\u2019whom many a peere linckt in rebellious band\n Of grudges past, in the queene\u2019s cause doth stand:\n And lest they grieue in conscience to betray\n Their lawfull king, the church leads them the way.\n\n 102.\n\n Herford\u2019s proud prelate, _Torleton_, who before\n Conuicted was for treason gainst his king,\n When armes gainst vs our stubborne barons bore,\n Shrowded till now beneath the churche\u2019s wing,\n Fled to the foes, and in his heart did bring\n That horrid treason hatcht before in hell,\n Cause of all after mischiefe that befell.\n\n 103.\n\n The newes of this new innouation made,\n And of the aliens lately set on land,\n With terrour doth my fainting heart inuade:\n All holds about vs readie open stand,\n To yeeld possession ere the foes demand:\n Whose first smal troope now made a mightie force,\n Into the land they take their forward course.\n\n 104.\n\n London denies to lend her sou\u2019raigne aid,\n To whom inforc\u2019d at length to bid adew,\n As doubting there to foes to be betrai\u2019d,\n With both the _Spencers_ vnto Wales I flew,\n There by some powre my hopes yet to renue,\n Hoping amongst the Welch more faith to find,\n T\u2019whom from my youth I had been euer kind.\n\n 105.\n\n But thus forsaken, whither shal I run?\n Where shall I shadow me with safetie\u2019s wing?\n Since that a wife, a brother, and a sonne,\n Pursues a husband, father and a king:\n Pitie, adew, my wrong shall neuer wring\n Remorse from others: Wales conspires my woe,\n And with false England turnes vnto my foe.\n\n 106.\n\n Pursu\u2019d on euery hand, and forc\u2019d to flie\n My natiue soile to shun death\u2019s dangerous dart,\n My fortunes on the surging seas to trie\n In a poore barke, from England we depart\n To th\u2019ile of Lunday with an heauie heart,\n Whom from the maine land Seuerne doth diuide,\n In which we hope in safetie to abide.\n\n 107.\n\n But eu\u2019n that little good doth seas denie,\n With angrie looke the heau\u2019ns behold the maine,\n Gust after gust the winged winds do flie\n Vpon the waues, who puft with proud disdaine,\n Will vs deuoure or driue vs backe againe:\n As if too much they thought that little land\n For him that late had kingdomes at command.\n\n 108.\n\n Remorselesse waues haue we a kingdome lost,\n And yet our barke do ye denie to bring\n To this small plot of ground two miles at most:\n O woe to tell that once so great a king\n Should stoope his minde vnto so small a thing,\n Content to share the meanest part of many,\n And yet deni\u2019d to be possest of any.\n\n 109.\n\n Long did we wrestle with the waues and winde,\n But all in vaine we striue, for neuer more\n Shall friendlesse _Edward_ any comfort find:\n Our barke distrest, her tackle rent and tore,\n At length arriues vpon Glamorgan shore,\n Where _Spencer_, _Baldocke_, _Reding_, markt for death,\n Go all with me t\u2019a castle called Neath.\n\n 110.\n\n With vaine suppose of safetie in that hold,\n While there in secret we our selues repose\n To the lords _Zouch_ and _Leister_ we are sold,\n Who by rich gifts often corrupting those\n That our vnknowne abode could best disclose,\n With violent hands do sease their wished pray,\n And beare vs thence each one a seuerall way.\n\n 111.\n\n _Leister_, thy king is now thy captiue made,\n Reuenge is in thy hand, where is thy spleene?\n Though vnto thee thy soueraigne was betrai\u2019d:\n This be thy praise, thou wouldst not with our queene\n In _Edward\u2019s_ wrongs be any deeper seene:\n While in thy Killingworth thy king remaines,\n Nought doth he want that to a king pertaines.\n\n 112.\n\n With a strong guard from starting there kept sure,\n Our friends meane time being seas\u2019d on by the foe,\n Both _Spencers_, _Reading_, _Daniel_, _Milcheldeure_,\n In death do happily shut vp their woe,\n As pointing out the way that we must go:\n _Baldocke_ in prison by a milder fate,\n Struck dead with grief preuents their deadly hate.\n\n 113.\n\n They, that vnto the king induc\u2019d by reason\n Did loyall proue, were traytors to the state:\n O impious age, when truth was counted treason,\n Heere noble _Arundell_ I waile thy fate,\n Whose blood drunke vp by _Mortimer\u2019s_ sterne hate,\n Did manifest the spleene, on which he fed\n Against his king, for whom thy blood was shed.\n\n 114.\n\n Since they by death t\u2019offence haue paid their due,\n Who late alone in your displeasure stood,\n Whom should your deadly hatred now pursue?\n If they were only foes to common good,\n That made you satisfaction with their blood:\n Why is your liege lord as a common foe\n Reseru\u2019d a captiue prince for worser woe?\n\n 115.\n\n Bloodie reuenge your hatred cannot bound,\n So wilfully to greater mischiefe bent,\n The poore imprison\u2019d king must be vncrown\u2019d,\n At London by the states in parlament,\n It is decreed by mutuall consent:\n _Edward_ must be depos\u2019d from royall throne,\n Where he had sate now twice ten yeares and one.\n\n 116.\n\n O righteous heau\u2019ns, if ye haue powre t\u2019oppose\n Fraile man\u2019s vnrighteous thoughts in euery thing:\n Then suffer not, ah suffer not my foes\n Thus to go on, that are about to bring\n Such wofull tidings to a wretched king:\n In thrall though I abide, this grace yet giue,\n That I at least a captiue king may liue.\n\n 117.\n\n Strengthned by will, though not by force of lawes,\n To Killingworth th\u2019appointed states are come,\n Where, as in censure of some weightie cause,\n Twentie and foure agreed vpon their doome,\n In order sit within a goodly roome,\n And thither do their king to iudgement call,\n Who should haue sate chiefe iudge aboue them all.\n\n 118.\n\n From secret closet, though, alas, full loath,\n Forth am I brought in mourning weeds, that show\n His griefe of mind, whose bodie they do cloath:\n And when I would conceale my inward woe,\n With head declining downe as I do go,\n The griefe I would not see, I see in teares,\n Which fallen from mine eies the pauement beares.\n\n 119.\n\n In presence being come and silence made,\n _Torleton_, whose lookes did wound me with despaire,\n A man in tongue most powerfull to perswade,\n Stands vp, and as design\u2019d for this affaire,\n Doth in few words effectually declare\n The common people\u2019s will, the peeres consent\n That I thenceforth resigne my gouernment.\n\n 120.\n\n O heere, what tongue can vnto vtterance bring\n The inward griefe, which my poore heart did wound?\n So far it past all sense in sorrowing,\n Passion so powrefully doth sense confound,\n That in a swoune I falling on the ground,\n Faine would haue di\u2019d, but _Leister_ standing by\n Steps in, and doth that happinesse deny.\n\n 121.\n\n Recall\u2019d from death by those that stood about,\n When breath through grieued brest found passage free,\n In these sad words my woes I breathed out:\n \u201cO powrefull God, since \u2019tis thy will that wee\n Do leaue our crowne, I grudge not thy decree:\n Thou art most iust in all, thou gau\u2019st a crowne,\n But ah, mine owne misdeeds haue cast me downe.\n\n 122.\n\n To you I yeeld what wrong doth wrest from me,\n Since with one voice ye say it must be so,\n And beg this mercie in my miserie:\n That since your hate hath brought me to this woe,\n It heere may end, no further let it goe:\n He whom once king your hate could not forgiue,\n Will be no king so he haue leaue to liue.\u201d\n\n 123.\n\n Heere teares did choake the end of my sad words,\n And while my state in silence I deplore,\n _Trussell_ in name of all the English lords\n Renouncing th\u2019homage due to me before,\n Depriues me of the same for euermore:\n Leauing his liege that was of most command,\n The most deiected subiect of this land.\n\n 124.\n\n _Blunt_, steward of our house in th\u2019open hall,\n Protracts no time by any long delay,\n But breaking of his rod before them all,\n Resignes his office, all depart away,\n Many that would in loue, yet dare not stay:\n This was my fate, thus did false fortune frowne,\n Ah God, that euer king was so cast downe!\n\n 125.\n\n Yet fortune hath not spent her vtmost hate,\n With patience we must arme our selues more strong,\n Scarce will fraile eares belieue what we relate,\n When now thy muse shall tune her mournefull song,\n To sadder times that she may waile that wrong,\n To which with griefe for guide we now proceed,\n Whose woes wil make the hardiest heart to bleed.\n\n 126.\n\n Our iealous queen, whom conscience doth torment,\n Fearing lest _Leicester_ so neare alli\u2019d,\n In pitie of our state should now relent,\n Tels _Torleton_ of her doubts what might betide,\n If in his keeping we do still abide,\n Who fearing vengeance for his owne offence,\n Giues her his counsell to remoue me thence.\n\n 127.\n\n _Leister_ constrained by expresse command,\n To the lord _Berkley_ doth his charge restore,\n Whence he conueies me with an armed band\n Vnto his castle seated neare the shore,\n Gainst which great Seuerne\u2019s raging waues do rore:\n But _Berkley_, thou with _Leister_ art too kind,\n _Edward_ with thee doth too much fauour find.\n\n 128.\n\n Oh gentle _Berkly_, whither wilt thou go?\n Why dost not stand by thy sad sou\u2019raigne\u2019s side?\n For pitie leaue him not vnto such woe,\n Which _Gourney_ and _Matreuers_ do prouide,\n Such woe did neuer any king betide:\n But with command they come, thou must depart,\n And leaue thy king, although with heauie heart.\n\n 129.\n\n To _Gourney_ and _Matreuers_ by decree\n In his owne castle he resignes his right:\n Who lest that any friend should priuie bee\n To my abode, do beare me thence by night\n Vnto Corfe castle, whence with more despight\n Through darknesse and blind waies in poore array,\n To Bristow castle they do me conuey.\n\n 130.\n\n By night conuey\u2019d thus rudely to and fro,\n Lest by my friends from them I rescu\u2019d bee,\n At last since none, whom they do feare, do know\n Where I am now become, they do agree\n To Berkley backe againe to go with mee,\n Staying a time, till night with dewie dampe\n Should choake daie\u2019s light and put out Ph\u0153bus lampe.\n\n 131.\n\n Then do they set me on a beast foreworne\n In stead of stately steed, whereon to ride,\n And for no crowne I had my head t\u2019adorne,\n Bare I do sit, except the heau\u2019n to hide\n My woefull head all couering they denide,\n While sharp winds in my face the weather blowes,\n And with their nipping cold augments my woes.\n\n 132.\n\n When out of east the day began to peepe,\n Who, as if she my ruefull case did mone,\n Vpon my head her dewie droppes did weepe,\n The right hand way they left, and iourn\u2019ing on,\n Where Seuerne\u2019s siluer waues doth play vpon\n The marish greene, they forced me to light,\n There to haue slaine my heart with sad despight\n\n 133.\n\n In stead of royall chaire, they set me downe\n On a mole-hill (was neuer king so vsde)\n And _Gourney_, wretched man, in stead of crowne\n With wreath of grasse my royall browes abusde,\n Patience perforce it might not be refusde:\n Then while in wretched case my hands I wring,\n In scorne the villaines bid auaunt sir king.\n\n 134.\n\n While thus I sit all carefull comfortlesse,\n With pitious lookes cast vp in wofull wise,\n Calling the heau\u2019ns to witnesse my distresse,\n In stead of teares, the starres like weeping eies\n Drop downe their exhalations from the skies:\n And Tithon\u2019s bride new rising from her bed,\n Beholds their leaudnesse with a blushing red.\n\n 135.\n\n Yet to my plaints no pitie they do yeeld:\n But bent to adde more griefe to my disgrace,\n In rustie murren with foule water fill\u2019d,\n A villaine comes with hands vncleane and base,\n To shaue the heare both from my head and face:\n Who, when warme water I desire to haue,\n Replies, that cold will serue his turne to shaue.\n\n 136.\n\n With eyes full burthned with a showre of teares,\n \u201cDo ye,\u201d quoth I, \u201cnow helpe me with your might\n To waile the sorrowes, which my sad soule beares,\n Open your floud-gates wide, and in their sight\n Let vs haue water warme in their despight:\u201d\n This said, the teares did downe my cheekes distill,\n As if they stroue t\u2019effect my wofull will.\n\n 137.\n\n Hence in this plight to Berkley am I brought,\n Where bidding comfort euermore farewell:\n And feeding long on care and pensiue thought,\n At length I am shut vp in darksome cell,\n There to the senselesse walles my griefe to tell,\n Deni\u2019d the comfort of heau\u2019n\u2019s common light,\n Bound while I liue to liue in endlesse night.\n\n 138.\n\n My sterne tormentors moued with remorse,\n Wish death to end my miserable care:\n Yet nature will not violently force\n Way to a lingring death, they do prepare\n By cold, long watching, fast and euill fare:\n But, I euen made insensible in woes,\n Suffer with patience all they can impose.\n\n 139.\n\n In hollow vault, through which the channell past\n From forth the towne beneath my chamber flore,\n Dead carcasses and loathed things they cast,\n Whose grieuous stinch did grieue my senses more\n Then all the griefe that I endur\u2019d before:\n And forc\u2019d me search the walles for open place,\n To some without to waile my woefull case.\n\n 140.\n\n Vpon a time I through a crannie spi\u2019d\n Men hewing timber on the greene fast by,\n To whom with drearie deadly voice I cri\u2019d,\n \u201cO who will helpe me wretch, that heere do lie\n In torment worse then death, yet cannot die?\n If any there do mourne man\u2019s wretched case,\n Helpe me, ah help me from this loathed place.\u201d\n\n 141.\n\n The poore men\u2019s hearts are pierc\u2019d with point of woe,\n And trembling horror doth their hearts appall\n For ruth of wronged king cast downe so low,\n Vnable t\u2019helpe me, vnto God they call,\n That he may yeeld reliefe to wofull thrall:\n Who giuing eare to mine and their request,\n At length in death doth giue my sorrowes rest.\n\n 142.\n\n Mischiefe from those that guiltie of offence\n Did wish my death in letters sent doth bring\n A darke enigma bearing double sense,\n Which is vnpointed left a doubtfull thing,\n Either to kill or not to kill the king,\n As in such tearmes \u201cking _Edward\u2019s_ blood to spill\n Refuse ye not to feare I count it ill.\u201d\n\n 143.\n\n The bloodie villaines construing the same\n Vnto that sense, for which it then was sent,\n Watch for the night, whose cloudie cloake of shame\n With darknesse should conceale their damn\u2019d intent,\n Day did abhor the thing 'bout which they went,\n And fled away, grim night on th\u2019earth did frowne,\n And I in carefull bed had laid me downe.\n\n 144.\n\n Where for musitian that with sweetest breath,\n Had wont to lull my watchfull sense asleepe:\n The ghastly owle, the fatall bird of death,\n That on my chamber walles her inne did keepe\n In my poore trembling heart impressed deepe\n The feare of death with her too deadly note,\n Which oft she shriked through her balefull throte.\n\n 145.\n\n The murmuring noise of the rude waters rore\n Which not far thence into the seas do fall,\n Where Seuerne\u2019s billowes do beat vpon the shore,\n And bellowing winds which iustling gainst the wall\n Like death\u2019s shrill whistlers at the cranies call,\n Through darknesse and deepe silence of the night,\n Our troubled heart with horror doth affright.\n\n 146.\n\n On fearefull things long musing I do lie,\n At last with sleepe opprest, in slumber cast,\n Vpflew the doores and in the murderers flie,\n At which awakt, and suddenly agast,\n As from my naked bed I thought t\u2019haue past,\n They with rude hands do hold me downe by force,\n While with vaine words I seeke to moue remorse.\n\n 147.\n\n \u201cYe deadly instruments of other\u2019s ill,\n Grant one request, which dying I do craue:\n Since ye be bent this royall blood to spill,\n Send me not hence with torture to the graue:\n \u2019Tis life ye seeke, the only thing I haue:\n Which yet shall vade on wings of willing breath,\n Since better tis to die then liue in death.\u201d\n\n 148.\n\n By this they with maine strength do me compell,\n Strengthlesse for breath to yeeld to their intent:\n And then, O horrid, shamefull thing to tell,\n By force they thrust an hollow instrument\n Much like a trumpe into my fundament,\n By which they do preuent the mone I make\n By sudden death, as thus to them I spake.\n\n 149.\n\n \u201cAh why, why thus torment ye me with smart?\n Leaue off to grieue:\u201d not one word more I said,\n They had by this time thrust me to the hart\n With steele red hot: to sleepe me downe I laid,\n And with the pray\u2019rs which godly folke had made,\n When from the castle they did heare my cries,\n My soule on mercie\u2019s wings did clime the skies.\n\n 150.\n\n Thus hauing heard my lamentable fall\n Procur\u2019d by stubborne peeres disloyaltie,\n And people\u2019s wilfull hate, the spring of all\n First flowing from deceitfull flatterie,\n That deadly bane t\u2019all princely royaltie:\n Amongst the rest in place with painfull pen\n Insert it for a Mirrour vnto men.\n\n\n\n\n THE LAMENTABLE\n\n _Lives and Deaths of the two yong_\n\n Princes, Edward, the Fifth, and\n\n _his Brother Richard Duke of_\n\n Yorke.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cTh\u2019afflictions, which this wronged king did beare,\n He dead,\u201d said Memorie, \u201creuenged were:\n Like Vulcan\u2019s bride, at Nottingham, his queene\n In th\u2019armes of Mars-like _Mortimer_ was seene:\n He for such deeds, as all true honor staines,\n By ignominious death did pay iust paines:\n By righteous doome till death she liu\u2019d in thrall,\n Within the circuit of a castle\u2019s wall:\n Her first-borne sonne, the second _Edward\u2019s_ heire,\n (She being to French king _Philip_ call\u2019d the faire,\n Left liuing of his line) by her made claime\n Vnto his right in France, and gain\u2019d the same:\n He dead, the second _Richard_, second sonne\n To his first-borne, his fatall raigne begonne:\n _Richard_ depos\u2019d, _Henrie_ ascends the throne,\n Heire to duke _Iohn_, king _Edward\u2019s_ fourth borne sonne,\n He disposest lord _Roger Mortimer_,\n In _Richard_ daies proclaim\u2019d apparant heire,\n Who had duke _Lionel\u2019s_ daughter for his mother,\n _Edward\u2019s_ third sonne, to _Iohn_ the elder brother:\n Yet did this _Henrie_ after much vnrest\n Die in the throne of England\u2019s crowne possest:\n And to his _Henrie_ did bequeath the same,\n The fifth and most illustrate of that name:\n Who in those few yeares of his happie raigne\n Did the French crowne to England\u2019s right regaine:\n Di\u2019d in his manly prime, left his yong sonne\n _Henrie_ the sixth to sit vpon the throne:\n Gainst whom _Plantagenet_, Yorke\u2019s noble duke\n Stood for his right, who his iust title tooke\n From _Lionel_, fourth by descent from him:\n Yet in his quarrell lost both life and lim:\n His sonnes reueng\u2019d his death, put _Henrie_ downe,\n _Edward_ his eldest did obtaine the crowne:\n In peace retain\u2019d it, left it to his heires,\n Who are the next, that in their turne appeares:\n For they except, heere none exempted be,\n Since the sad second _Edward\u2019s_ tragedie:\n Two noble youths are left in yongest yeares\n Vnto the guidance of the iarring peeres,\n _Edward_ the eldest comes from Ludlowe\u2019s towne\n To London, with intent to take the crowne,\n His vncle _Riuers_, _Vaughan_ and lord _Grey_\n By _Gloster\u2019s_ plots, who sought their liues decay,\n From him remoued are, yong Yorke his brother\n Doth flie to sanctuarie with his mother:\n Whom _Richard_ his false vncle thence doth bring\n Into the tower vnto the vncrown\u2019d king:\n Vsurps the crowne, puts both the youths to death,\n Who twixt the sheets betrai\u2019d, expire their breath:\n The truth of which that we may heere partake,\n Their princely ghosts let fame from sleepe awake.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n At fame\u2019s first call the princes both ascend,\n And both by turne do tell their tragicke end.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n_Richard._\n\n What wit so sharpe is found in age or youth,\n That can distinguish trust from treacherie?\n Falsehood puts on the face of simple truth,\n And maskes in th\u2019habit of plaine honestie,\n When she in heart intends most villanie:\n The panther with sweet sauour of her breath\n First charmes their sense, whom she hath markt for death.\n\n 2.\n\n Of which that future time may mirrours haue\n By the fourth _Edward\u2019s_ murdered progenie,\n Vp (brother) vp and let vs leaue our graue\n In this night\u2019s vision call\u2019d by Memorie,\n To tell the truth of our sad tragedie,\n That princes happily by vs may learne\n Trust from false treason truly to discerne.\n\n 3.\n\n And thou, O mournefull muse, that didst of yore\n Th\u2019iniurious wrongs of many a prince complaine,\n Helpe two deposed princes to deplore\n The wretched fortunes which they did sustaine:\n Matter thou hast that fits a ruthfull straine,\n How _Richard\u2019s_ treason twixt the sheets did smother\n The infant orphants of his kingly brother.\n\n 4.\n\n That we may keepe decorum in discourse,\n And into order may digest it well,\n Let vs alternally succeed in course:\n And that we turne by turne may truly tell\n Of euery circumstance, as it befell,\n (Brother) do you begin to mind to call\n Our vncle\u2019s treason and our tragicke fall.\n\n_Edward._\n\n Must I begin those bloodie pathes to goe,\n In which the prints of _Gloster\u2019s_ steps remaine?\n Draw neere then all, that list to heare of woe,\n And while our restlesse wrongs I do complaine,\n If you lament our losse of life and raigne,\n Your sighes soft breathed in still plaints of pitie,\n Be the sad musike to our dolefull dittie.\n\n 6.\n\n The sonnes we are of that renowned lord\n _Edward_ the fourth, who did the right restore\n To _Yorke_ againe with his victorious sword:\n Which _Lancaster_ in three descents that wore,\n The royall crowne had kept from vs before,\n Ending those iarres, which _Gaunt\u2019s_ ambitious son\n With royall _Richard\u2019s_ blood had first begun.\n\n 7.\n\n Three brothers had he, whom by fate\u2019s sterne will,\n Remorselesse death vntimely did deuoure,\n _Rutland\u2019s_ yong earle, whom _Clifford\u2019s_ sword did kill,\n _Clarence_, that duke, who in the fatall tower\n In Malmsey But did meet his liue\u2019s last houre:\n _Richard_ the yongest, who was stain\u2019d with guilt\n Of _Clarence_ blood and ours, both which he spilt.\n\n 8.\n\n O that desire of rule so much should blind\n The eyes of men, or that to gaine a crowne,\n The godlike part of man, th\u2019immortall mind\n Of wrathfull heau\u2019n should dare t\u2019incurre the frowne,\n And cast it selfe from glorie headlong downe!\n O foule ambition, had thy guilt not stain\u2019d\n This tyrant\u2019s deeds, what glorie had he gain\u2019d?\n\n 9.\n\n For though he from his mother\u2019s painfull throwes,\n Mark\u2019t for a plague into the world was brought;\n Yet with his sword gainst our Lancastrian foes\n In many bloodie broiles he manly fought:\n And by his courage high achieuements wrought,\n Great _Warwicke_, _Oxford_, _Clifford_, and the rest,\n Did finde a valiant heart in _Richard\u2019s_ brest.\n\n 10.\n\n But where are now those deedes, or who can say\n That they with praise doe glorifie his name?\n How can he euer hope to wipe away\n Those spots of blood vpon the face of fame,\n Making his deeds to blush at his owne shame?\n What deedes of fame he did are not his owne,\n His euill deeds remaine to him alone.\n\n 11.\n\n With their shed blood thy lines I will not staine,\n Whom wrackt by troops to graue his hand did send,\n To him in his succeeding tragicke straine,\n The sad report thereof I doe commend:\n Enough it is to tell of our owne end,\n To which I will proceede, first setting downe\n The plots our vncle vs\u2019d t\u2019obtaine the crowne.\n\n 12.\n\n When on the throne my kingly father sat,\n All noise of warre new husht, euen in the greene\n Of peace late growne discord did set debate\n Betweene the kindred of our mother queene,\n And twixt the peeres, who with malignant spleene,\n Did swell to see them fauor\u2019d of the king,\n From whence our future ruine first did spring.\n\n 13.\n\n On this, as on a platforme firme and sure,\n _Gloster_ did build his hopes for future daies:\n Yet England\u2019s _Edward_ hoping to procure\n Peace twixt both parts, did seeke by oft assaies\n T\u2019appease the strife, which priuie hate did raise:\n And at his death did cause them each to other\n To giue their faith, as brother vnto brother.\n\n 14.\n\n The king scarse dead, from London swift report\n With mischiefe at her heeles, or\u2019e hedge and heath\n To Ludlowe came, where then we kept our court,\n And there with pallid lookes, halfe out of breath,\n She tels the tidings of our father\u2019s death,\n Bidding me now beware vnhappie fate,\n And looke about in this new change of state.\n\n 15.\n\n Though time with so few yeeres my youth had crown\u2019d,\n That yet scarse fourteene times the heauenly Ram\n Had push\u2019t his hornes against the new yeare\u2019s bound,\n Since first into the world to light I came:\n Yet of my father\u2019s death, when lucklesse fame\n Had rung the dolefull knell: then did I know\n The danger which I was to vndergoe.\n\n 16.\n\n Nurst from my cradle in true discipline,\n In my weake childhood I had scand this theame,\n That if th\u2019ambitious with cleere sighted eyne\n Could but discerne what fortune gaue to them,\n When they had gain\u2019d a kingdome\u2019s diadem,\n They would account that day their blisse to ende,\n In which their steps the throne did first ascend.\n\n 17.\n\n Our vncle _Riuers_, who my gardian was,\n With vs at Ludlowe, then being resident,\n Did muster vp his powers with vs to passe\n To London by short iournies, with intent\n All danger in our passage to preuent:\n But _Gloster_ did intrappe both him and me,\n And by his plots did frustrate his decree.\n\n 18.\n\n By wicked wits, the queene he doth perswade,\n To thinke that since by her deceased king,\n Betwixt the peeres a vnion had beene made,\n With such a power, it were a dangerous thing,\n The prince her sonne, to London vp to bring:\n Distrust might soone disturbe the quiet state,\n And giue new life to the old dead debate.\n\n 19.\n\n Blinded with this deceit, our carefull mother\n Directs her letters, bearing such effect\n Vnto our vncle _Riuers_, her deare brother,\n Who doubting lest his foes might ought obiect\n T\u2019haue gone amisse, while he did vs protect,\n Dismist his powers, and only did retaine\n Those, that before were of our daily traine.\n\n 20.\n\n All readie now to hoise vp happie saile,\n For London we our fatall course do stere,\n Our hopes do promise vs a prosperous gale:\n But once set forth, clouds thicken in the cleare,\n A storme before vs plainly doth appeare,\n And with a gust in gulfe of woe cast downe,\n Vnhappie I made shipwracke of my crowne.\n\n 21.\n\n At Stonie-Stratford, being vpon my way,\n The bloodie bore, my vncle, that did aime\n At England\u2019s diadem by our decay,\n With that false duke, disloyall _Buckingham_,\n With show of humble loue in presence came:\n But after tender of their duties done,\n To put their plot in practise they begun.\n\n 22.\n\n They falsely did accuse of treacherie\n My two halfe brothers by our mother\u2019s side,\n Lord _Marquesse_ and lord _Grey_, then standing by,\n Objecting gainst them both, that prickt with pride\n They sought the realme and me, yet yong, to guide;\n And with our vncle _Riuers_, thought to bring\n The noble peeres in hatred with the king.\n\n 23.\n\n Without respect vnto our princely state,\n With violent hands they beare them both away,\n Too weake were we of power t\u2019auert that fate,\n Which in our sight did threaten their decay,\n Our words were weaker, _Gloster_ bore the sway:\n _Riuers_ my vncle, _Vaughan_, _Grey_, all three,\n After that time I neuer more did see.\n\n 24.\n\n Rob\u2019d of my friends, to London we are led,\n Vpon the way mourning with sighes and teares,\n The wretched fate to fall vpon my head,\n Griefe with a multitude of pensiue feares\n Sits heauie on my heart: yet in my eares\n _Gloster_ to please me, sings this syren\u2019s song,\n \u201cAll should be well:\u201d when nought was ment but wrong.\n\n 25.\n\n Conuey\u2019d to London, where while I abide\n Within the bishop\u2019s place, I little knew\n Of any tidings, that did then betide,\n The tyrant, (brother _Yorke_) then aim\u2019d at you\n To hasten that, which after did ensue:\n Then take your turne againe, and briefely tell,\n What in my absence vnto you befell.\n\n_Richard._\n\n I shall obey, and truly bring to light\n The darke dissembling, and the much vntroth\n Of periur\u2019d peeres, to rob vs of our right,\n How our queene mother carefull of us both,\n With me to holy sanctuarie goth,\n And of our vncle\u2019s plots to bring me thence,\n Which was the only bar to his pretence.\n\n 27.\n\n When fame with terrour vnto our queene mother,\n Then dewing our dead father\u2019s cheekes with teares,\n Brought the surprise of her two sonnes and brother,\n O how those tidings tingled in her eares!\n Suspitious thoughts begat a thousand feares,\n Forecasting by that vnexpected harme,\n The greater mischiefe of a following storme.\n\n 28.\n\n In this distraction of a doubtfull mind\n In change of state, seeing such crosse fortune\u2019s frowne,\n And doubting in distressefull times to find,\n Her friends turn\u2019d foes to helpe to plucke vs downe,\n And to bereaue vs of our father\u2019s crowne:\n With me to sanctuarie she did goe,\n There to remaine in safetie from our foe.\n\n 29.\n\n Of which, when tidings to the tyrant came,\n As one depriued of his wished pray,\n His wits best engines he begins to frame,\n And if they faile, he doth resolue t\u2019assay\n With hands prophane to fetch me thence away:\n While from his reach I there did safely won,\n He could not finish what he had begun.\n\n 30.\n\n Which our queene mother did presage before,\n And thought by force of sanctuarie\u2019s right,\n Safely to shield vs from the cruell bore,\n Who with his tuskes the elder durst not smite,\n While I the yonger liu\u2019d in such safe plight:\n By death of th\u2019one, the crowne how could he gaine,\n If th\u2019other after liuing did remaine?\n\n 31.\n\n The subtill tyrant to effect his will,\n This faire pretence vnto the peeres doth frame,\n That for th\u2019auoiding of a generall ill,\n Since to the prince and them it was a shame,\n That causelesse I should sanctuarie claime,\n Vnto the place he thought it no offence,\n If not by peace, by force to fetch me thence.\n\n 32.\n\n Yet to obtaine our mother queene\u2019s consent,\n Vnto the place before he offer wrong,\n The cardinall of Yorke for that intent,\n A man graue, sober, subtill, wise, and strong,\n To charme an eare with his inchanting tongue,\n He doth select to further this affaire,\n And to his vnknowne plots way to prepare.\n\n 33.\n\n When he with many more in presence came,\n He with faire speech begins to greet our mother:\n Then tels, how to the prince it was a shame,\n That she should keepe me there, as if one brother\n Did liue in dread of danger by the other,\n What griefe my absence was vnto the king,\n What comfort by my presence I should bring.\n\n 34.\n\n Proceeding on vnto the future ill,\n Which might ensue by ouer much distrust,\n The strengthning of her inconsiderate will,\n With sanctuarie\u2019s gift by claime vniust,\n The priuiledge of the place by them discust,\n Found not of force to her to yeeld the same,\n Who did not truly want, what she did clame.\n\n 35.\n\n The queene effectually doth answere all,\n He turnes replie, she doth reioyne againe,\n And puts such questions to the cardinall,\n That at a _non plus_ set, he doth remaine\n In silent pause, till chaft in tearmes more plaine,\n He threatfully declares the peeres pretence,\n Who had decreed by force to fetch me thence.\n\n 36.\n\n With this hard speech, our mother in affright,\n Round set with doubts, not knowing when or where,\n She safely might conuey me from their sight:\n In silence stands, her lookes bewrayes pale feare,\n Which she would vtter, yet doth oft forbeare,\n Till taking me by th\u2019hand, sighes forcing teares,\n And teares sad words, no longer she forbeares.\n\n 37.\n\n \u201cBehold,\u201d said she, \u201cI to your trust commit\n This noble impe, whom with the prince his brother,\n When in the generall iudgement God shall sit,\n I at your hands will aske: feare with the mother,\n What may betide him taken to another:\n I make no doubt, but ye will faithfull be,\n Yet others may deceiue both you and me.\n\n 38.\n\n Heere I resigne:\u201d and at that word she paus\u2019d,\n As loth so soone to part with such a thing:\n Then with a sigh, to shew that griefe had caus\u2019d\n That silent pause, \u201cto you,\u201d quoth she, \u201cI bring\n This royall issue of a late dead king:\n Yours be the charge, vnto the child proue true:\u201d\n Which said, she thus gaue me my last adew.\n\n 39.\n\n \u201cFarewell my little sonne, God be thy aid:\u201d\n With that she turn\u2019d about, and wept for woe:\n Then being about to part, she turn\u2019d and said,\n \u201cKisse me my sonne, kisse me before thou go,\n When we shall kisse againe, our God doth know:\u201d\n We kist, she sigh\u2019d, I wept and did refuse\n So to depart from her; but could not chuse.\n\n 40.\n\n Leauing the queene, I absent, to deplore me,\n For that I was an infant then in yeares,\n To the Star-chamber in their armes they bore me,\n Where our false vncle to delude the peeres,\n My pensiuenesse with words of comfort cheeres:\n \u201cNow welcome from my heart, my lord,\u201d quoth he,\n Then tooke me in his armes and kissed me.\n\n 41.\n\n Thence brother vnto you I was conuey\u2019d\n Then in that place, where London\u2019s prelats dwell,\n Whence like two lambes vnto a wolfe betrai\u2019d,\n We to the Tower were led: where what befell,\n Since it concernes you most, you best can tell:\n Be it your turne, our sorrowes to deplore,\n For I, alas, for sighes can say no more.\n\n_Edward._\n\n If I must tell the horror of that night,\n In which by death our soules were set on wing,\n Let sorrow lend vs her sad pen t\u2019indite\n In lines of woe, what I to light shall bring,\n And teach our muse so ruthfully to sing,\n That the sad reader\u2019s ruthfull eyes may drop,\n Teares at each point, to teach him where to stop.\n\n 43.\n\n Within the Tower, of which my brother spake,\n Lockt vp from sight of all our friends we were,\n Where while we do expect, when I shall take\n The crowne on me, t\u2019whom whilome euery peere,\n As to their soueraigne fealtie did sweare:\n At last report these fearefull newes doth bring,\n We were depos\u2019d, _Gloster_ was England\u2019s king.\n\n 44.\n\n Which, when I first did heare, a thrilling feare\n Ran through my heart, and sighing thus I spake:\n \u201cAlas, that I was borne king _Edward\u2019s_ heire,\n Would God my vncle, though from me he take\n My crowne, which willingly I could forsake,\n Would leaue vs that, which none but God can giue,\n And for my kingdome giue vs leaue to liue.\u201d\n\n 45.\n\n Thenceforth the tower, which late was deem\u2019d my court,\n Is made our prison by a tyrant\u2019s might:\n Farewell the world, our day now waxeth short,\n Our gladsome sunne of comfort and delight,\n Is ouercast with clouds of enuious night,\n Winter is come euen in our spring of youth,\n Our late sweet smiles are drown\u2019d in teares of ruth.\n\n 46.\n\n O noble _Edward_, from whose royall blood\n Life to these infant bodies nature drew,\n Thy roses both are cropt euen in the bud:\n Why didst thou leaue that bore in time t\u2019ensue,\n To spoile those plants that in thy garden grew?\n Of all that haruest which thy hand did sow,\n Nought haue we reaped but a crop of woe.\n\n 47.\n\n Who now amongst thy peeres of note or name,\n The sad mishap of thy deare sonnes doth mone?\n Where\u2019s _Howard_, _Louell_, _Barkley_, _Buckingham_,\n That bound themselues by oath to thee, that none\n But thy faire sonnes should sit vpon the throne?\n Woe worth them all, they all do now crie, \u201cdowne\n With _Edward\u2019s_ heires, let _Gloster_ haue the crowne.\u201d\n\n 48.\n\n Ah pitie, in what region didst thou dwell,\n Had\u2019st thou been present in those hatefull times,\n Then should not I thy shame, O England, tell,\n Nor should I seeke to proue thy wicked crimes\n Vnto thy face in these impartiall rimes:\n Thy princes, on whose state misfortune frown\u2019d,\n In thy false people pitie seidome found.\n\n 49.\n\n Search time\u2019s records, there see how poysoned _Iohn_\n Stands vp to witnesse thy sterne people\u2019s hate,\n See how the second _Edward_ thrust from throne,\n Cries for reuenge on people of that state,\n Behold thy shame in _Richard\u2019s_ wofull fate:\n Gainst whom thy nation vnremorsefull stood,\n Till Pomfret\u2019s wals were sprinkled with his blood.\n\n 50.\n\n But why seeke I, O England, to reclaime thee,\n By sounding former euils in thine eare?\n That\u2019s yet vntold, the which alone shall shame thee,\n As oft of it as any age shall heare,\n Tyrants, in whom no pitie doth appeare,\n Shall thee vpbraid, and blushing at thy shame,\n For past compare shall register the same.\n\n 51.\n\n When as our vncle had obtain\u2019d his will,\n The crowne scarce warme on his vsurping head,\n Opprest with care to keepe that gotten ill,\n He takes no rest of mind in bowre nor bed,\n Suspition with the guilt of conscience fed\n Breeds doubts, distractions, horrors in his brest,\n Which like to hags do haunt him with vnrest.\n\n 52.\n\n Each step he treads, by which he climbes his throne,\n Is grounded on the death of some great peere:\n As he ascends, he sees their blood thereon:\n Set in his chaire, shame whispers in his eare\n That\u2019s not his place, his nephew should be there:\n Doubt askes him, how he hopes t\u2019enioy that long,\n When they do liue, whose right he keepes by wrong.\n\n 53.\n\n He that had drunke so oft of murder\u2019s cup,\n To reach that height to which he did aspire,\n Now fils the measure of his mischiefe vp,\n And in vaine hope to raise his heart yet higher,\n Spares not the blood deduc\u2019d from his owne sire:\n Poore orphanes blood, pris\u2019d at a crowne\u2019s rich wealth,\n To his sicke state can only promise health.\n\n 54.\n\n Whilst euery where his wandring eye doth range\n To find some wretch to put this taske vpon,\n All things about vs haue a sudden change,\n Vngrac\u2019d, not car\u2019d for, comforted of none,\n By our owne seruants we are left alone:\n Those that bemone our fortunes dare not stay,\n By feare constrain\u2019d, with griefe they go their way.\n\n 55.\n\n Inconsolatly left in wofull plight,\n Each helping other for to waile and weepe,\n In dole we spend the day, and in the night\n Horror and dread of death doth waking keepe\n Our watchfull eyes, and bars them of their sleepe,\n Each little noise, each windie puffe of breath\n Affrights vs infants with th\u2019approch of death.\n\n 56.\n\n Thou fatall building stain\u2019d with noble blood,\n Thou den where horror and darke treason lies,\n Say if thou wast, since thy foundation stood,\n More mou\u2019d to pitie humaine miseries,\n Hearing the echo of sad sorrowe\u2019s cries:\n Then when yong _Yorke_ with pitious plaints and mones\n Powr\u2019d forth his sorrowes to thy senselesse stones.\n\n 57.\n\n Euen as sometimes we see a silly lambe,\n Which for the slaughter in some fold is pent,\n There kept from sight of his deare loued damme,\n Her absence with faint bleating doth lament,\n Whose only sight can giue it safe content:\n So little _Yorke_ in vaine lamenting wept,\n That from our mother\u2019s presence he was kept.\n\n 58.\n\n Oft, wofull child, thus hast thou question\u2019d mee,\n \u201cWhere is my mother?\u201d and when I for woe,\n Haue turn\u2019d my backe and could not answere thee:\n With teares againe, thou wouldest aske to know,\n Saying, \u201cI would vnto my mother go:\u201d\n But woe, alas, what comfort could I giue thee,\n When of all meanes our vncle did depriue mee?\n\n 59.\n\n While thus we waste in woe, the tyrant king\n With death to right those, whom he did abuse\n With wrong in life, finding a way to wing\n Mischiefe deuis\u2019d, a wretched man did chuse\n For this affaire, which others did refuse:\n _Tirrill_ by name, a knight decay\u2019d in state,\n Prone t\u2019act this deed in hope of happie fate.\n\n 60.\n\n Two desperate villaines, hatefull to those times,\n _Forrest_ and _Dighton_, men obscure and base:\n Yet to the world notorious for leaud crimes,\n For _Tirril\u2019s_ gold this damned deed embrace,\n Who being brought into conuenient place,\n Wait for aduantage of the gloomie night\n To couer that, which did abhorre the light.\n\n 61.\n\n The night comes on, and murder doth begin\n To act her part within the fatall Tower,\n In that dead time of night, the cloake of sinne,\n In which the clock chimes twelue, the chiefest houre\n When sleepe on man and beast doth vse his powre,\n Both the rude slaues on vs poore infants flie,\n As we together in our bed did lie.\n\n 62.\n\n Betwixt the sheets they keepe vs downe by force,\n We struggle against death with gasping grones,\n They in their hard hearts feeling no remorce,\n To heare poore soules powre forth such pitious mones,\n As might with pitie moue the ruthlesse stones,\n Holding the pillowes downe do stop our breath,\n Vntill we both giue vp the ghost in death.\n\n 63.\n\n Thus hast thou heard, how after all his cares\n King _Edward\u2019s_ fruit did perish in the bud,\n By which since we may see how pride prepares\n Her passage through the spoile of common good,\n Without respect t\u2019affinitie of blood:\n That thou may make a Mirrour of the same,\n A place amongst thy Mirrours we do claime.\n\n\n\n\n THE TRAGICALL LIFE\n\n _and Death of King Richard the Third_.\n\n\n THE ARGUMENT.\n\n \u201cThe lamentable fall,\u201d quoth Memorie,\n \u201cOf two such noble youths may Mirrours be,\n That man high mounted on ambitious wing,\n T\u2019obtaine a crowne attempteth any thing:\n They dead, their vncle\u2019s tragedie succeeds:\n His monstrous birth, his shape, his bloodie deeds:\n Horror of conscience haunts him with vnrest,\n The mightie _Buckingham\u2019s_ attempt vnblest:\n The tyrant enuying noble _Richmond\u2019s_ good,\n By treason seekes to spill his royall blood,\n His strange escape from France to Britanie,\n Pursu\u2019d by _Landois_ his false enemie,\n His safe arriue vpon the English coast,\n The skilfull marshalling of either hoast\n On Bosworth plaine, the order of the fight:\n Stout Norfolke\u2019s fall, the king\u2019s part put to flight\n His desperat valour shew\u2019d on th\u2019aduerse force,\n The shamefull vsage of his conquered corse,\n Which that we heare, let fame his ghost compel\n To leaue his graue, that he the same may tell.\u201d\n\n\n ANOTHER ARGUMENT.\n\n Through night\u2019s darke shadowes from the house of bale,\n The tyrant\u2019s ghost comes vp to tell his tale.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n 1.\n\n Horror pursues the homicide\u2019s sad soule,\n Feare hunts his conscience with an hue and crie,\n That drinkes the blood of men in murder\u2019s bowle,\n Suspitious thoughts do rest in life denie,\n Hate seldome suffers him in peace to die,\n By heau\u2019n\u2019s inuiolate doome it is decreed,\n Whose hands shed blood, his heart in death should bleed.\n\n 2.\n\n I was to noble _Yorke_ the yongest sonne\n Of foure, which he begot in lawfull bed,\n First _Edward_ was, the next place _Edmund_ wonne,\n _Rutland\u2019s_ yong earle by _Clifford\u2019s_ hand strooke dead,\n _Clarence_ the third, to death vntimely lead:\n I was the last: of all the foure the worst,\n By heau\u2019n and nature in my birth accurst.\n\n 3.\n\n When my sad mother in her fruitfull wombe\n Bore me a painfull burthen to and fro,\n Then the babe\u2019s infant bed had been my tombe,\n Had not keene rasors to her paine and woe\n Cut me a way, vnto the world to goe:\n Nature did grudge to think, that from her wombe\n A man-like monster to the world should come.\n\n 4.\n\n When first I came into this world\u2019s huge vast,\n My birth was not as others wont to bee:\n First did my feet come forth, as if in hast\n The child of discord had been then set free,\n To cause the wretched world to disagree,\n Heau\u2019n at that time told b\u2019inauspitious starres\n Nations far off of England\u2019s ciuil warres.\n\n 5.\n\n As hunger-steru\u2019d to flesh my iawes in blood\n I readie toothed came, as who would say,\n Nature by signes vnto the world hath show\u2019d\n How fiercely he shall bite another day,\n That in his mother\u2019s wombe well toothed lay,\n And maruaile \u2019twas, seeing viper-like he came,\n He was not borne by death of his owne damme.\n\n 6.\n\n If like a cunning painter on a frame\n My shape vnto the world I could descrie,\n And with a curious pensell paint the same\n In perfect colours, each spectatour\u2019s eie\n Would by my lookes into my manners prie:\n The bodie\u2019s ill-shapte limbes are oft defin\u2019d,\n For signes of euill manners in the mind.\n\n 7.\n\n Little I was, and of a small compact,\n My left side shoulder higher then the right,\n Both crooked were, and therewithall contract\n Into my backe, so that in all men\u2019s sight\n I did appeare a most mishapen wight:\n And hard it was to iudge, if that my soule\n Or limbes ill fashion\u2019d feature were more foule.\n\n 8.\n\n The deeds of noble _Yorke_ I not recite,\n Done in those fatall daies of miserie,\n Nor tell th\u2019euents of euery speciall fight,\n As at Saint Albones, Bloreheath, Banburie,\n Northhampton, Barnet, Wakefield, Teukesburie,\n Seeing they are often spoken of before,\n By those, that heere their wofull falles deplore.\n\n 9.\n\n Th\u2019induction to my storie shall begin\n Where the sixth _Henrie\u2019s Edward_ timelesse fell:\n Sonne to stout _Margaret_ that noble queene,\n Of whom since heere no poet\u2019s pen doth tell:\n Though hee a peerelesse prince deserue it well,\n In breefe we will describe the manner all\n Of our sterne deede and his vnhappie fall.\n\n 10.\n\n His mother queene, the manlike _Margaret_,\n After so many a fall in fight cast downe,\n With her young _Edward_ and stout _Somerset_\n Did lastly hazard all for England\u2019s crowne\n In fight at Teukesburie: but heau\u2019n did frowne,\n _Wenlocke_ and _Somerset_ fled both away,\n Left vs the field, and lost their queene the day.\n\n 11.\n\n The forlorne prince was taken as he fled\n By _Richard Crofts_, a knight of Glostershire,\n Who hearing of the proclamation spread,\n That, who could bring him forth, should, for his hire,\n Duely receiue a hundred poundes by yeere:\n The prince he brought to end our ancient strife,\n With promise made, that we should saue his life.\n\n 12.\n\n In presence brought, the king to him thus spake:\n \u201cFond wretch,\u201d said he, \u201cwhat did thy thoughts excite\n To come within my kingdome\u2019s bounds, and take\n Rebellious armes t\u2019oppugne thy soueraigne\u2019s right,\n And traytor-like in field \u2019gainst me to fight?\u201d\n To which the prince, in whose bold breast did lie\n An inbred courage, made this stout replie:\n\n 13.\n\n \u201cI came,\u201d said he, \u201cto set my father free,\n Whom thou in hold vniustly dost retaine:\n I came to reobtaine my dignitie,\n And in the throne to seate my sire againe,\n In which as king thou wrongfully dost raigne:\n I am by might enforc\u2019d to stoope to thee,\n Who should by right be subiect vnto mee.\u201d\n\n 14.\n\n The king being mou\u2019d with this his stout replie,\n Thrust him away, in whose heroicke brest\n My brother _Clarence_, _Hastings_, _Grey_, and I,\n Did sheath our blades, which fact heau\u2019n did detest,\n Permitting vs not vnreueng\u2019d to rest:\n For none of vs in peacefull bed did lie,\n When from this world our wretched soules did flie.\n\n 15.\n\n He dead, his sire, that poore deposed king,\n The aged _Henrie_, sixt of that same name,\n Liu\u2019d in the Tower, depriu\u2019d of euery thing\n Which to a king pertain\u2019d: yet did he frame\n His thoughts with patience to endure the same,\n Liuing a paterne of a patient spirit,\n Who for his fame a golden verse doth merit.\n\n 16.\n\n I thought, that while this noble king had breath,\n His friends my brother\u2019s peace would still inuade:\n Wherefore I did contriue his sudden death,\n And in the Tower the butcher\u2019s part I plaide,\n For th\u2019hatefull point of that same bloodie blade,\n Scarce cold with luke-warm blood of his owne sonne,\n Vnlooked for, I through his sides did runne.\n\n 17.\n\n He dead, the battels fought in field before,\n Were turn\u2019d to meetings of sweet amitie,\n The war-gods thundring cannons dreadfull rore,\n And ratling drum-sounds warlike harmonie,\n To sweet tun\u2019d noise of pleasing minstralsie,\n The haile-like shot, to tennis balles were turn\u2019d,\n And sweet perfumes in stead of smoakes were burn\u2019d.\n\n 18.\n\n God Mars laid by his launce and tooke his lute,\n And turn\u2019d his rugged frownes to smiling lookes,\n In stead of crimson fields, warre\u2019s fatall fruits,\n He bath\u2019d his limbes in Cypris\u2019 warbling brookes,\n And set his thoughts vpon her wanton lookes,\n All noise of warre was husht vpon our coast,\n Plentie each where in easefull pride did boast.\n\n 19.\n\n The king, who swims in streames of court delights,\n Plaies like the fish so long with pleasure\u2019s bait,\n That on her deadly bane he often bites,\n Or like the mariner infortunate,\n Sayling in seas where syrens lie in wait:\n To please the sense he lends his eare so long,\n Till he be charm\u2019d with their inchanting song.\n\n 20.\n\n Meane time not made to feast an amorous eie,\n I fox-like lurking lay about the king,\n Into the actions of the peeres I prie,\n With cautie obseruation of each thing,\n While with their wanton sou\u2019raigne reuelling:\n They vainly spend in Venus vassallage\n The tedious houres of that peacefull age.\n\n 21.\n\n But clouds do thicken in this peacefull cleere,\n _Warwicke\u2019s_ faire daughter forc\u2019d by vnkind fate,\n Forsakes lord _Clarence_ her beloued feere,\n Who purposing to take for second mate,\n The only heire of some hie towring state,\n Did hope t\u2019espouse with nuptials solemnely,\n Duke _Charles_ his daughter, heire of Burgundie.\n\n 22.\n\n Which when the queene and her allies doth heare,\n At _Clarence_ fortunes daily they repine,\n And to the king in hast this newes do beare,\n Who to their words his will doth so incline,\n That _Clarence_ match is broke by his designe:\n King _Edward_ iealous of his children\u2019s fate,\n Gainst _Clarence_ in his heart beares secret hate.\n\n 23.\n\n This opportunitie I straight do snatch,\n Striking the steele while yet the fire is in,\n In the king\u2019s brest such hatred I do hatch\n Against our brother, that his hand I win\n To further me in my intended sinne:\n For that blind riddle of the letter _G_,\n _George_ lost his life, it tooke effect in me.\n\n 24.\n\n Thus hauing halfe my purpose in my hand\n By _Clarence_ death, I cast how to confound\n The noble queene\u2019s neere kinsmen, who would band\n Themselues gainst me by law of nature bound,\n When _Edward\u2019s_ bodie should be laid in ground:\n But while the king, my brother did suruiue,\n To worke their woe, nought durst my thoughts contriue.\n\n 25.\n\n Yet whom in court I did perceiue, that bore\n A grudging heart against their vpstart state:\n My brother\u2019s death to him I did deplore,\n Auouching them with their malignant hate,\n T\u2019haue been the authors of his wofull fate,\n Which at such odds the peeres and them did set,\n That neuer age such discord did beget.\n\n 26.\n\n Fortune in midst of this their wicked strife,\n With pleasing looke so smil\u2019d on my intent,\n That by the sudden losse of _Edward\u2019s_ life,\n My kingly brother, she did seeme t\u2019assent\n To grant me good successe in the euent:\n The king late sick, leaues heere the peeres at oddes,\n And flies the place of mortall men\u2019s abodes.\n\n 27.\n\n His corps scarce couered with a clod of clay,\n His kingly ghost of heauie newes to tell:\n Earle _Riuers_, _Vaughan_, and lord _Richard Grey_,\n The kindred of the queene I did compell\n To follow him, amongst the dead to dwell,\n Vnhappie _Hastings_, _Buckingham_ and I\n At Pomfret castle caused them to die.\n\n 28.\n\n They dead, protector by consent of peeres\n To hold the sterne in state I chosen am:\n My nephew yet being in his yongest yeares,\n Which once attain\u2019d by helpe of _Buckingham_,\n To higher things ambitiously I aime,\n Who for my promise of promotion, gaue\n His minde to mine, in each thing I could craue.\n\n 29.\n\n _Hastings_, whose loyaltie stood in my way,\n Vpon his fall to build my future power,\n As he at counsell sate vpon a day\n With other lordings in the fatall Tower,\n By my deceit there met his liue\u2019s last houre:\n Where he, fond lord, did think himselfe most sure,\n His best deem\u2019d friends swift death did him procure.\n\n 30.\n\n The way made plaine by plucking others downe,\n That might withstand in such a generall ill,\n With some pretence of title to the crowne,\n To win the giddie people to our will,\n A man whose tongue could honie drops distill,\n One doctor _Shaw_, then deem\u2019d a great diuine,\n To vndertake this taske we did assigne.\n\n 31.\n\n He in a sermon fitting mine intent,\n Did seeke to proue my brother\u2019s progenie\n Vnlawfull issue: and with my consent\n Chargeth my mother with adulterie,\n Of _Edward\u2019s_ and lord _Clarence_ bastardie,\n Auouching me to be _Yorke\u2019s_ true borne child,\n On whom our house their hopes might only build.\n\n 32.\n\n To this his sermon, as it was decreed,\n Rushing amongst the people in I came,\n Where he most impudent, in hope to breed\n Affection in the audience did not shame,\n On me with loud applauses to exclame:\n For flying from his text when I came in,\n In praise of me, thus did the wretch begin.\n\n 33.\n\n \u201cThis is,\u201d quoth he, \u201cthat very noble duke,\n The speciall paterne of true chiualrie,\n Who both in fauour and in princely looke,\n As well as in the mind\u2019s true qualitie,\n Doth represent his father\u2019s physnomie:\u201d\n Thus did he seeke the people\u2019s hearts t\u2019incline,\n But purchas\u2019d nought but his disgrace and mine.\n\n 34.\n\n For after, when disloyall _Buckingham_\n Vnto the commons that set speech did make,\n Which with inuectiue scandall he did frame\n Against the late dead king: when much he spake\n To moue them, me for lawfull prince to take:\n Strooke dumbe with shame, of so abhorr\u2019d a thing,\n Not one amongst them crie, \u201cGod saue the king.\u201d\n\n 35.\n\n After I had obtain\u2019d by tyrannie,\n The fancied blisse of empire and renowne:\n I thought so long as _Edward\u2019s_ progenie\n Did breath on earth, fortune did seeme to frowne,\n Threatning to cast my new got glorie downe:\n Wherefore, betwixt the sheets with cruell paine,\n Vnhappie I did cause them to be slaine.\n\n 36.\n\n Thinking thenceforth to enioy all worldly blisse,\n And with my crowne\u2019s delight my soule to feast:\n What I expect, I do not only misse,\n But am depriued eu\u2019n of that small rest,\n Of which before that time I was possest:\n Conscience my former deeds in question brings,\n And frights my guiltie soule with fearefull things.\n\n 37.\n\n Each night, when quiet sleepe should close mine eies,\n Long waking on my pallat I do lie,\n And if by chance sleepe doth my sense surprise,\n Then doth illusion set before mine eie\n My murthered nephewes, who aloud do crie,\n Calling for vengeance for that bloodie sinne,\n In strangling them the diadem to winne.\n\n 38.\n\n Then starting vp from forth my naked bed,\n With sword in hand I frantike-like would flie\n About my chamber, and orecome with dread,\n Vnto my guard I oftentimes would crie,\n That treason in my chamber hid did lie:\n Thus the remembrance of my wicked deed,\n In me euen sleeping, did strange horror breed.\n\n 39.\n\n In day time wheresoeuer I did go,\n My watchfull eyes I whirled round about,\n Fearing the onset of some sudden foe,\n And to be out of dreadfull danger\u2019s doubt,\n My bodie priuily was fenc\u2019d about:\n Vpon my dagger still I kept my hand,\n Readie to stab those that by me did stand.\n\n 40.\n\n After the murther of my nephewes twaine,\n Not long it was ere _Buckingham_ and I\n Began to iarre, for which my lawlesse raigne\n Not long did last, his last conspiracie\n Did end his owne life and my royaltie:\n Who gag\u2019d his honor t\u2019helpe me to the crowne,\n With his owne death did help to bring me downe.\n\n 41.\n\n Of Hereford the dukedome he did claime,\n Which was the chiefest cause of our debate:\n For his pretended title to the same\n Did touch the kingly title of our state,\n For which his sute I spurn\u2019d in spitefull hate,\n And rated him with speeches minatorie,\n Which was the fall of my vsurped glorie.\n\n 42.\n\n When thus the wrathfull duke did plainly see\n His sute reiected, and himselfe despis\u2019d,\n He cast how to auenge himselfe on mee,\n And in his thoughts my ruine he deuis\u2019d:\n In which a bold attempt he enterpris\u2019d,\n For he in battell bold himselfe did band,\n Against me for to fight with force of hand.\n\n 43.\n\n Many with him against me did accord,\n For when the sudden fame abroad was spread,\n How noble _Richmond_ that Lancastrian lord,\n My brother\u2019s heire, _Elizabeth_ should wed,\n Many that were that often wisht me dead:\n Vowing to spend their blood in _Richmond\u2019s_ right,\n And to assist the duke with all their might.\n\n 44.\n\n Then were commotions raised euery day,\n The duke in Shropshire hard by Shrewsburie,\n The proud wilde Welchmen troopt in battell ray,\n Who vainly vaunted on their chiualrie,\n As in the sequell they did testifie:\n Yet their example many did excite,\n To moue rebellion to my heart\u2019s despight.\n\n 45.\n\n In Yorke-shire marquesse _Dorset_ with his crew,\n Gainst me in field to fight were boldly bent,\n In Deuonshire both the _Courtnies_ did pursue\n Those that my cause did fauour, and in Kent\n The _Guilfords_ were in armes for that intent:\n Thus I in euery corner of this land,\n Was round beset with force of foe-men\u2019s hand.\n\n 46.\n\n Yet from my youth in warre affaires being bred,\n I knew that if in this conspiracie\n I did without delay cut off the head,\n The rest being stricken with timiditie,\n Would soone be quell\u2019d by force or pollicie:\n Wherefore with all my power I did pursue\n The duke of _Buckingham_ and his Welch crue.\n\n 47.\n\n He towards Glocester his way did take,\n There to haue ioyned with the westerne powre,\n But as in safetie passage for to make,\n He with his host by Seuerne\u2019s coast did scowre,\n Heau\u2019ns cloudie mountaines brake, and many a showre\n Through darksome aire, from heau\u2019ns wide floud-gates fel,\n Which made the wombe of raging Seuerne swel.\n\n 48.\n\n The shores did shrinke, the lustie waues did grow,\n Trees hid their heads, dumbe beasts on hilles were drown\u2019d,\n Infants in cradles wandred to and fro:\n Yea those that of the floud stroue to win ground,\n Both men and horse the waters did confound:\n And to this day the Seuerne men by name,\n Stout _Buckingham\u2019s_ great water call the same.\n\n 49.\n\n Thus the bold duke was of his purpose crost,\n Who of my swift approch, when he did heare:\n In good array did range his warlike host.\n But they, before in field we did appeare,\n Turning their backes put on the wings of feare,\n Leading their duke the way, who thus distrest\n Durst not abide, but fled amongst the rest.\n\n 50.\n\n Who tooke himselfe in his vnhappie flight,\n Vnto his seruant\u2019s house vpon the way,\n Hight _Humfrey Banester_, a wicked wight,\n Who fosterd by this duke did yet betray\n His lord and master, to his liue\u2019s decay:\n By him descri\u2019d he in disguise was taken\n In a darke wood, of all his friends forsaken.\n\n 51.\n\n He dead, the rest of his conspiracie\n Dispers\u2019d their powers, and each one fled his way,\n Some fled to _Richmond_, then in Britannie,\n And others here in England lurking lay,\n Expecting the approch of that wish\u2019d day,\n When _Richmond_ should on England\u2019s coast arriue,\n Mee of my crowne and kingdome to depriue.\n\n 52.\n\n But I, not slacking opportunitie\n In this beginning of my good successe,\n Did studdie both by strength and policie,\n _Richmond\u2019s_ increasing powers to suppresse,\n Although in vaine; for heauen, his cause did blesse:\n The people\u2019s loue did towards him incline,\n Wishing in hart, that he might victor shine.\n\n 53.\n\n To giue content vnto my carefull minde,\n One _Peter Landois_, cheefe of Britannie\n Vnder the duke, with gold I did so blinde,\n That hee did promise mee by policie\n To bring the earle into my custodie:\n The Britaine duke his friend did only stand,\n To whom my subiects dayly fled the land.\n\n 54.\n\n This _Peter_ was th\u2019earle\u2019s onelie seeming frend,\n And in pretence of loue, a warlike band\n Of men at his owne cost he did commend\n Vnto the earle, to be at his command,\n When hee should purpose to inuade this land:\n But when towards England hee was in his way,\n His purpose was that they should him betray.\n\n 55.\n\n The earle reseru\u2019d vnto more happie fate,\n Informed was of this false treacherie,\n Wherefore t\u2019escape their hands, that lay in wait,\n To take away his life, he priuilie\n Did into Aniou flie from Britannie,\n To which as hee did flie in speedie hast\n With greedie pursuit hee was follow\u2019d fast.\n\n 56.\n\n But in a thick wood standing by the way,\n He in his seruant\u2019s weedes himselfe did clad,\n And caused him the master\u2019s part to play,\n While hee himselfe fast by his side full glad\n On foote did runne like a young lustie lad,\n Whereby at length hee past without mischance\n The British confines to the realme of France.\n\n 57.\n\n Thither stout _Oxford_, his old hate to show\n Vnto our house of Yorke, repaire did make,\n To ioyne with _Richmond_ my Lancastrian foe:\n Then _Brandon_, _Blunt_ and _Cheynie_ did forsake\n Me and my part, with _Richmond_ part to take,\n Which newes my daylie dread doth so increase\n That I no houre can liue in restfull peace.\n\n 58.\n\n To whom I might giue trust, I did not know,\n Since seeming friends from mee do daylie flie,\n In court each one doth wish my ouerthrow,\n In towne and citie euery one doth crie\n Shame on my deedes of death and tyrannie:\n Thus in my rule I liue belou\u2019d of none,\n Dreaded of many, hated of euerie one.\n\n 59.\n\n To my distresse some comfort to applie,\n And that I may remoue the onely thing,\n On which earle _Richmond\u2019s_ hopes doe most relie:\n Now such strange mischiefe I doe set on wing,\n That neuer age the like to light did bring:\n Through blood to incest I intend to swim,\n To breake the match betwixt my neece and him.\n\n 60.\n\n For _Anne_ my queene, great _Warwicke\u2019s_ daughter deere,\n By poyson\u2019s force I sent vnto the dead:\n Which done, my troubled thoughts I vp did cheere,\n In hope I might my brother\u2019s daughter wed,\n And bring her vnto mine incestuous bed:\n Foule sinne I now do feare in no degree,\n That I from feare of _Richmond_ may be free.\n\n 61.\n\n Her mother queene (strange that it should bee so)\n Wonne with faire words consents vnto the same:\n Who forc\u2019d by feare, or by distresse brought low,\n In hope to raise her state againe (fond dame)\n In vaine doth wooe her daughter in my name:\n Which heau\u2019n abhorring hastens on my end,\n And by my death preuents what I pretend.\n\n 62.\n\n The royall virgin doth so much detest\n My damn\u2019d intent that I no grace can finde,\n And daily newes my thoughts doe so molest\n With foes inuasion, that my troubled minde\n Is altogether vnto care inclinde:\n Gainst those abrode that doe intend t\u2019inuade,\n While I prepare, at home I am betrai\u2019d.\n\n 63.\n\n At Nottingham, where then in court I lay,\n Inform\u2019d I was, that th\u2019hated enemie\n Had taken land, at which in much dismaie,\n Turning my feare to rage, at last I crie\n For vengeance on my subiects treacherie,\n And forc\u2019d to trie my cause by bloodie blowes,\n I mustred vp my men to meete my foes.\n\n 64.\n\n When that I heard where _Richmond_ did ariue,\n I did digest my bands in battel ray:\n In ranke forth marcht my footemen fiue and fiue,\n Who in that order kept the readie way,\n That led directly where earle _Richmond_ lay:\n Then wings of horsemen coasting euerie side,\n Did vnto bloodie battell boldly ride.\n\n 65.\n\n In midst of whom, vpon a tall white steede\n Mounted I sat with cruell countenance,\n Still crying out, march on, march on with speede:\n And in this sort without incumberance,\n To Lecester we forward did aduance:\n Through which we past to Bosworthe\u2019s ample plaine,\n Where I did end my wreched life and reigne.\n\n 66.\n\n And there vpon an hill, _Anne Beame_ by name,\n I downe did pight my standerd, and fast by\n My campe in martiall order I did frame:\n _Richmond_ fast by vs on the plaine did lie,\n Next morne the chance of battell for to trie:\n For it was euening ere we could attaine\n To meete each other vpon Bosworth plaine.\n\n 67.\n\n The sad night\u2019s cold forerunner Vesper faire,\n Dispreades her golden lockes in easterne skie:\n Then courts of guard are set with speciall care,\n Lest that our foes aduantage to espie,\n In ambuskado neere should lurking lie:\n And euery one with hearts to heau\u2019n did pray\n To scape the horror of th\u2019approching day.\n\n 68.\n\n The heau\u2019ns that in eternall booke do keepe\n The register, for life or deathe\u2019s decree,\n By vision strange did shew to me in sleepe,\n That next daie\u2019s cheerefull light the last should be,\n That in this world I euermore should see:\n As in my tent, on bed I slumbring lie,\n Horrid aspects appear\u2019d vnto mine eye.\n\n 69.\n\n I thought that all those murthered ghosts, whom I\n By death had sent to their vntimely graue,\n With balefull noise about my tent did crie,\n And of the heau\u2019ns with sad complaint did craue,\n That they on guiltie wretch might vengeance haue:\n To whom I thought the Iudge of heau\u2019n gaue eare,\n And gainst me gaue a iudgement full of feare.\n\n 70.\n\n For loe, eftsoones, a thousand hellish hags\n Leauing th\u2019abode of their infernall cell,\n Seasing on me, my hatefull bodie drags\n From forth my bed into a place like hell,\n Where feends did naught but bellow, howle and yell,\n Who in sterne strife stood gainst each other bent,\n Who should my hatefull bodie most torment.\n\n 71.\n\n Tormented in such trance long did I lie,\n Till extreame feare did rouze me where I lay,\n And caus\u2019d me from my naked bed to flie:\n Alone within my tent I durst not stay,\n This dreadfull dreame my soule did so affray:\n When wakte I was from sleepe, I for a space\n Thought I had been in some infernall place.\n\n 72.\n\n About mine eares a buzzing feare still flew,\n My fainting knees languish for want of might,\n Vpon my bodie stands an icie dew:\n My heart is dead within, and with affright\n The haire vpon my head doth stand vpright:\n Each limbe about me quaking, doth resemble\n A riuer\u2019s rush, that with the wind doth tremble.\n\n 73.\n\n Thus with my guiltie soule\u2019s sad torture torne,\n The darke night\u2019s dismall houres I past away,\n But at cocke\u2019s crow the message of the morne,\n My feare I did conceale, lest men should say\n Our foes approch my courage did dismay:\n And as dire need did me thereto constraine,\n My troopes of men I marshall\u2019d on the plaine.\n\n 74.\n\n Who with swift concurse fill\u2019d the smothred ground,\n And did enranke themselues in braue array,\n The foreward with bold bowmen did abound,\n Commixt with pikes to beare the violent sway,\n When on our front the foe should giue th\u2019assay,\n And to their forme in fight good heed to take,\n _Iohn_ duke of _Northfolke_ chieftaine I did make.\n\n 75.\n\n After this vantguard I my selfe did goe,\n And round about me chosen men of might\n Did range themselues to shield me from the foe,\n Our skirts were lin\u2019d with horse, and fit for fight,\n Each place was stuft with men in armes well dight:\n In this array I troopt my armed traine,\n To meete earle _Richmond_ on the equall plaine.\n\n 76.\n\n Who wisely did his folke to fight instruct,\n _Iohn_ earle of _Oxford_ did the vaward lead,\n The right wing _Gilbert Talbot_ did conduct,\n The left wing sir _Iohn Sauage_, one that fled\n From me to _Richmond_ for to saue his head:\n _Richmond_ himselfe with _Pembrooke_ that stout knight,\n The middle ward did lead vnto the fight.\n\n 77.\n\n As thus both hosts stood each in other\u2019s sight,\n Expecting when the trumpe, whose blast doth breed\n Courage in men, would call them forth to fight,\n Arm\u2019d in bright steele vpon a stately steed,\n From ranke to ranke I rode about with speed,\n And fit for fight my souldiers hearts to make,\n Hie, and with courage thus to them I spake.\n\n 78.\n\n \u201cFellowes in armes, and my aduenturous friends,\n Giue heedfull eare to that which I shall say:\n Be valiant hearted, thinke vpon the ends\n Of fight or flight, of triumph or decay,\n Both which the battell doth propose this day,\n Th\u2019one of which doth bring eternall fame,\n The other ignomie and dastard shame.\n\n 79.\n\n O thinke vpon the matchlesse valiancie\n Of our forefathers deeds in former daies,\n And let vs counterchecke the memorie\n Of their stout acts by that immortall praise,\n To which our deeds our names this day may raise:\n Yea, let vs thinke gainst whom we come to fight,\n The thought of which might cowards harts excite.\n\n 80.\n\n First with our foe-men\u2019s captaine to begin,\n A weake Welch milke-sop, one that I do know\n Was nere before for fight in battle seene,\n Not able of himselfe as guide to goe\n In marshall discipline against his foe:\n But backt by his consorts, a sort of slaues,\n Against his will vs now in field he braues.\n\n 81.\n\n And for his company, a sort they bee\n Of rascall French and British runawaies,\n People far more couragious for to flee,\n Then stand in fight, whose faint hearts former daies\n Could witnesse to our land and their dispraise:\n Who doubtlesse now shall by your valours die,\n Or else at least from battell wounded flie.\n\n 82.\n\n That bearing wounds vnto their natiue home,\n Their fellowes may be strucke with heartlesse dread,\n Fearing in future times againe to come\n Into our kingdome with bold banners spred,\n Gainst souldiers that in England\u2019s bounds are bred:\n Then courage, friends, think on renowne and fame\n For which we fight, let cowards flie with shame.\n\n 83.\n\n And as for me, assure your selues this day\n I will triumph by glorious victorie,\n Or win a lasting name for liue\u2019s decay:\n Take then example by my valiancie,\n And boldly fight against your enemie:\n You for your wiues and goods, I for my crowne,\n Both for our countrie\u2019s good, all for renowne.\n\n 84.\n\n Aduance them captaines, forward to the fight,\n Draw forth your swords, each man addresse his sheeld,\n Hence faint conceites, die thoughts of coward flight,\n To heauen your hearts, to fight your valours yeeld:\n Behold our foes do braue vs in the field,\n Vpon them friends, the cause is yours and mine,\n Saint _George_ and conquest on our helmes doth shine.\u201d\n\n 85.\n\n This said, the dreadfull trumpet loudlie blowes,\n To bring them forward to the furious fight,\n Then did the bowmen bend their stift string\u2019d bowes;\n The souldiers buckled on their helmets bright;\n The bilmen shooke their bils, and euerie wight\n Did proue his fatall weapon on the ground,\n Ready prepar\u2019d his foemen to confound.\n\n 86.\n\n The archers drew, the fatall fight began,\n Thick flew the shafts, many to death were done:\n Which once being spent, close ioyn\u2019d they man to man:\n Then did sterne slaughter through the battell runne;\n Not any one at first his foe did shunne:\n But equallie their heads they vp did beare\n In fight, not stooping vnto seruile feare.\n\n 87.\n\n Stout _Norfolke_ in the forefront boldlie stood,\n Imploying deeds of death against the foe;\n Not fear\u2019d, in midst of dust, of death and blood,\n Th\u2019extreamest of his vtmost strength to show,\n To winne his soueraigne\u2019s weale by his owne woe:\n Where he, braue lord, by friends vnkindlie left,\n In manlie fight was of his life bereft.\n\n 88.\n\n For in my cheefest hope to winne the day,\n Appointed by the heauen\u2019s most iust decree,\n My souldiers in the forefront shranke away,\n Which heauie newes declared was to mee\n By one that counsel\u2019d mee away to flee:\n But I his counsell rashly did forsake,\n And vnto him in furie thus I spake:\n\n 89.\n\n \u201cCurst be thy coward thoughts that thinke on flight,\n And curst those traytors that are fled away:\n I am resolu\u2019d in this daie\u2019s dreadfull fight,\n To lose my life, or win a glorious day:\n Flie those that will, for I am bent to stay:\u201d\n This said, my plum\u2019d deckt helme I downe did close,\n And with my eager launce made toward my foes.\n\n 90.\n\n Hie was the furie of my desperate fight,\n And like a tempest in a stormie day,\n When I did see vnto my heart\u2019s despight,\n Where _Richmond\u2019s_ standard stood without delay:\n Through th\u2019armed men to it I made my way,\n The which, with _William Brandon_ that bold knight,\n To ground I downe did cast in _Richmond\u2019s_ sight.\n\n 91.\n\n Many beneath my conquering strokes did fall,\n Each one did flie from me with coward shame,\n But one whom sir _Iohn Cheynie_ men did call,\n Who for huge swinge of strength did beare the name\n Of all the captaines that with _Richmond_ came,\n Who single did my charge at first repell,\n Though in the end beneath my sword he fell.\n\n 92.\n\n But as with him alone in fight I stood,\n Behold with foes I was incircled round,\n Who did imbrue their swords in my deare blood,\n Where mastered with the smart of many a woond,\n I bleeding fell vnto the dustie ground:\n Where cursing _Richmond_ and his conquering crue,\n Thence in disdainfull sort my sad soule flew.\n\n 93.\n\n I being slaine, those that for me did fight,\n Turning their backes, away forthwith did flie,\n In field my slaughtered bodie in despight,\n Drag\u2019d from the place where it did bleeding lie,\n Was naked made to euery vassals eye,\n Despoil\u2019d of all those kingly robes I wore:\n Thus they to Leicester my bodie bore.\n\n 94.\n\n Behind a slaue vpon a halting iade\n All naked as I was, hog-like I lay:\n And in that sort with blood and dust array\u2019d,\n To Leicester they bore me, whence that day\n To field I came in pompe and rich aray:\n Where to the graue my bodie they commend:\n Thus had my bloodie life a bloodie end.\n\n 95.\n\n Th\u2019ambitious prince, whose hand vniustly gripes\n Another\u2019s right to make himselfe a king,\n Suffers the smart of many furies stripes:\n Th\u2019internall worme his conscience still doth sting,\n His soule t\u2019a fearefull iudgement death doth bring:\n Of which let my vsurped royaltie,\n Remaine a Mirrour in this historie.\n\n 96.\n\n My storie told, I may no longer stay,\n My grieued ghost doth smell the morning\u2019s aire:\n The night on sable wings flies fast away,\n The houres in east expecting daies repaire,\n On cloudie hill sets vp her siluer chaire?\n My guiltie ghost her light may not behold,\n Adew, remember well what I haue told.\n\n \u201cOur night is at an end,\u201d quoth Memorie,\n \u201cWith which we heere will end our historie:\n After this tyrant\u2019s fall, that dismall night,\n Which did obscure this kingdome\u2019s faire day-light,\n Did take an end: heere some auspitious star\n Twixt _Yorke_ and _Lancaster_ did end the iar,\n Appointing _Richmond_ that Lancastrian knight,\n T\u2019inoculate his _Red Rose_ with the _White_:\n Heere therefore with this blissefull vnitie,\n We will shut vp our tragicke historie,\n And thou, whose pen we do appoint to write\n Those Mirrours past, which thou hast heard this night;\n Awake from sleepe, and let thy willing pen\n Set forth this dreame vnto the view of men.\u201d\n This said, with fame she vanisht from my sight,\n This was the vision of a winter\u2019s night.\n\n\n FINIS.\n\n\n END OF PART IV.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n [THE\n\n Mirrour for Magistrates,\n\n AS]\n\n ENGLANDS\n\n ELIZA:\n\n or\n\n The Victoriovs and Trivmphant Reigne\n _of that Virgin Empresse of_\n sacred memorie,\n _ELIZABETH_,\n Queene of England, France and Ireland, &c.\n\n PART V.\n\n By RICHARD NICCOLS,\n Oxon. Mag. Hall.\n\n From the edition imprinted by Felix\n Kyngston, 1610.\n]\n\n\n\n\n ENGLANDS\n ELIZA:\n OR\n THE VICTORIOVS AND\n TRIVMPHANT REIGNE OF THAT\n VIRGIN EMPRESSE OF SACRED\n memorie, ELIZABETH, Queene of\n _England, France and Ireland,\n &c._\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n _AT LONDON_\n Imprinted by FELIX KYNGSTON.\n\n 1610.\n\n\n\n\nTO THE VERTVOVS _Ladie, the Ladie Elizabeth Clere_, Wife to the Right\nWorshipfull Sir Francis Clere, Knight.\n\n\n My muse, that whilome wail\u2019d those Briton kings,\n Who vnto her in vision did appeare,\n Craues leaue to strengthen her night-weathered wings,\n In the warm sun-shine of your golden _Clere_:\n Where she (faire ladie) tuning her chast layes\n Of England\u2019s empresse to her hymnicke string,\n For your affect, to heare that virgin\u2019s praise,\n Makes choice of your chast selfe to heare her sing:\n Whose royall worth (true vertue\u2019s paragon)\n Heere made me dare t\u2019ingraue your worthie name;\n In hope, that vnto you the same alone\n Will so excuse me of presumptuous blame,\n That gracefull entertaine my muse may find,\n And euer beare such grace in thankfull mind.\n\n Your Ladiship\u2019s euer humblie\n at command,\n\n RICHARD NICCOLS.\n\n\n\n\n TO THE READER.\n\n\nGentle Reader, when I first writ this poem, I had thought for the\nlength therof to haue distinguished it by section into cantoes or\nbookes; but since perswaded by the printer to publish it with this\nworke: it being, though no fall, yet a worthie Mirrour answerable to\nthat of the empresse Helena in the first part of this volume: I present\nit in one whole entire hymne, distinguishing it only by succession of\nyeares, which I haue margented through the whole storie, and by an\nanalysis of euery chiefe exploit inserted in their proper places. For\nmy quotation of authors, I heere vse it not for singularitie, it being\na thing not customarie to writers in this kind, but to confirme the\ntruth of that which is written, as not being ignorant that I shall be\nbitten by those mongrill English (I can terme them no other) that barke\nat the maiestie of that most noble princesse, against whose railing,\nan inseperable propertie to their profession, I only arme my selfe\nwith this confidence, that the fame of her royalties mounting aloft\nlike the sun verticall, shall in the height of all true borne English\nestimation, abate the shadowes of their enuie. Farewell.\n\n\n\n\n THE INDVCTION.\n\n\n In that sad month, whose name at first begun\n From Rome\u2019s _Augustus_, great _Octauius_ son,\n When heau\u2019ns fierce dog, sterne Alhahor did rise\n To bait the lion in th\u2019Olympian skies;\n Whose hot fier-breathing influence did cracke\n Our thirstie grandame Terrae\u2019s aged backe:\n By wrathfull loue, thicke darted from the skie\n The thunder shafts of pestilence did flie:\n In top of heau\u2019n he tooke his wreakfull stand\n Ore that great towne vpon the northerne strand.\n Of siluer Thamisis, vpon whose towres\n Downe dropt his shafts, as thicke as winter\u2019s showres,\n Which daily did his indignation show\n In euery place, dispersing worlds of woe:\n Witnesse ye ghosts and spirits dolefull drerie,\n Vntimely sent by troopes to Charon\u2019s ferrie,\n Leauing your limbes wrapt vp in sheets of clay,\n As dustie reliques of your liues decay:\n Yea, thou sweet genius of that ancient towne,\n Thou ladie of great Albion\u2019s chiefe renowne;\n Of that sad time a witnesse maist thou bee,\n When death did take so many sonnes from thee;\n Whose funerall rites inconsolate alone,\n When thou vnkindly left, didst kindly mone,\n Who staid with thee, alas, to helpe thee mourne,\n And fled not from thee, leauing thee forlorne?\n Mongst whom, though I, strooke terror-sicke with dread\n Of heau\u2019n\u2019s hot plague, was one that from thee fled:\n Yet of thy sight I daily did partake,\n Which of thy woes a partner did me make:\n Not far from off that slimie southerne strand,\n By which with Isis, Thames runnes hand in hand,\n In that high mountaine countrie\u2019s fruitfull soile,\n That nere in fight of forren foes tooke foile,\n Where those same famous stout men-mouing wood,\n Against the Norman conqueror boldly stood,\n Was my abode: when foule infection\u2019s breath\n In Troynouant imploy\u2019d the workes of death.\n There in this wofull time vpon a day,\n So soone as Tython\u2019s loue-lasse gan display\n Her opall colours in her easterne throne;\n It was my chance in walking all alone,\n That ancient castle-crowned hill to scale,\n Which proudly ouerlookes the lowly vale,\n Where great _Elizae\u2019s_ birth-blest palace stands,\n Gainst which great Thames cast vp his golden sands.\n There when I came, from thence I might descrie\n The sweetest prospects, that the curious eie\n Of any one did euer elsewhere see,\n So pleasant at that time they seem\u2019d to mee:\n It is a choice selected plot of land,\n In which this ayrie mount doth towring stand;\n As if that nature\u2019s cunning for the best,\n Had choicely pickt it out from all the rest:\n Beneath this loftie hill shot vp on high,\n A pleasant parke impaled round doth lie,\n In which the plaine so open lies to sight,\n That on this hill oft times with great delight\n That heau\u2019nly queene, _Plantagenet\u2019s_ great blood,\n The faire _Elizae\u2019s_ selfe hath often stood,\n And seene the swift-foot dogs in eager chace\n Pursue the gentle hinde from place to place.\n From hence recalling my weake wandring eye,\n I gan behold that kingly palace by,\n Whose loftie towres built vp of ancient time\n By worthie princes, to the stars do clime;\n Proud, that so many a prince to do them grace,\n Beneath their roofe had made their resting place.\n Fast by this princely house, afront before\n Thames gliding waues do wash the sandie shore,\n Whose fruitfull streames with winding in and out,\n Forcing their way through hollow lands about,\n From th\u2019occidentall with swift course do run,\n Where Hesper bright brings vp the golden sun:\n And on the siluer brest of this great lord\n Of all the deepes, that Albion\u2019s wombe doth hoard,\n Downe from the easterne seas I might descrie\n Many swift-winged barkes, that seem\u2019d to flie,\n Cutting their passage through the threatning waue,\n That 'bout their sides in vaine did rore and raue;\n With swelling sailes, not fearing sad mischance,\n Each after other came in stately dance,\n And nimblie capring on the purple waue,\n With loftie foretops did the welkin braue,\n Vntill they came vnto that stately place\n Fam\u2019d for the birth of great _Elizae\u2019s_ grace:\n To which they vail\u2019d their towring tops before,\n And from their sides the thundring cannons rore\n Flew as a witnesse of their loyaltie\n And loue vnto that house of maiestie;\n From thence full fraught with many a precious prise\n They sail\u2019d along, whereas the passage lies\n To Troynouant, whose pride of youthfull lust\n The hand of death had smothered in the dust;\n The smiling heau\u2019ns, that with sweet sunshine howres\n Did once vouchsafe t\u2019adorne her hie topt towres,\n Now with grim lookes, which did my heart appall,\n Did seeme to threaten her approching fall:\n Downe from their cloudie browes in threatning pride,\n Death-darting pestilence did seeme to slide:\n Grim-visag\u2019d-like the grizly dreaded night,\n In noysome fumes and mistie fogs bedight:\n The aire once pure and thin, now wing\u2019d with death\n Grewe gloomie thick, being poyson\u2019d by her breath,\n In which, I thought, she took her horrid stand,\n And with fierce look and stiff-bent bowe in hand,\n She drew her shafts, impatient in her minde,\n From forth her quiuer at her back behinde:\n Then did I thinke vpon the shreekes and cries\n Of dying soules, that did ascend the skies\n By thousands sent vnto the gaping graue,\n On whom no mercie pestilence would haue:\n Yea then (thou glorie of great Albion)\n Thy sad distresse I gan to thinke vpon,\n Thy mournefull widowes groueling in sad swound\n On their dead husbands, on the ashie ground,\n Thy husbands striuing to preserue the breath\n Of their deare spouse from vnrelenting death;\n Thy orphans left poore, parentlesse, alone\n The future time\u2019s sad miserie to mone:\n The thought of which, in that vnhappie season\n With woefull passion did so maister reason,\n That as I stood vpon that pleasant hill\n To fancie sweet delight I had no will;\n But seeking for some groue or gloomie wood,\n Where I might feede my melancholie mood:\n Vpon this hil\u2019s south side at last I found\n Fitting my thoughts a pleasing plot of ground;\n It was to wit, that wel knowne happie shade,\n Which for delight the royall Britaine maid\n Did oft frequent, as former times can tell,\n When her sweet soule in mortall mould did dwell:\n It is a walke thicke set with manie a tree;\n Whose arched bowes ore hed combined bee,\n That nor the golden eye of heauen can peepe\n Into that place, ne yet, when heauen doth weepe,\n Can the thin drops of drizeling raine offend\n Him, that for succour to that place doth wend.\n Where, when alone I first did enter in,\n And call to minde how that truth-shielding queene,\n In former times the same did beautifie\n With presence of her princelie maiestie;\n O how the place did seeme to mourne to mee,\n That she should thence for euer absent bee!\n In this sad passion, which did still abound,\n I sat me downe vpon the grassie ground,\n Wishing that heau\u2019n into my infant muse\n That antique poet\u2019s spirit would infuse,\n Who, when in Thracian land hee did rehearse\n Ianthee\u2019s wofull end in tragick verse,\n Did make men, birds, beasts, trees and rockes of stone\n That virgin\u2019s timelesse tragedie to mone:\n For then I thought, that to that mournefull place,\n I might haue sung my verse with lesse disgrace\n To great _Elizae\u2019s_ worth: for who doth bring\n Her deeds to light, or who her worth doth singe?\n O, did that Fairie Queene\u2019s sweet singer liue,\n That to the dead eternitie could giue,\n Or if, that heauen by influence would infuse\n His heauenlie spirit on mine earth-borne muse,\n Her name ere this a mirror should haue been\n Lim\u2019d out in golden verse to th\u2019eyes of men:\n But my sad muse, though willing, yet too weak\n In her rude rymes _Elizae\u2019s_ worth to speak,\n Must yeeld to those, whose muse can mount on high,\n And with braue plumes can clime the loftie skie.\n As thus I sat all sad vpon the greene\n In contemplation of that royall queene,\n And thinking, what a Mirrour she might be\n Vnto all future time\u2019s posteritie,\n Inclining downe my hed, soft fingered sleepe\n With pleasing touch throughout my limbes did creepe,\n Who hauing seas\u2019d vpon mee with strong hands,\n Bound vp my thoughts in soporiferous bands,\n And held mee captiue, while his seruant slie\n A vision strange did vnto mee descrie:\n For vp from Morpheus den a vision came,\n Which were it sent in mightie Ioue\u2019s own name,\n Or by some other power, I wot not well:\n But as I slept, I say, thus it befell:\n As at that time in walking to and fro,\n I 'bout this pleasant place alone did goe,\n Each obiect of the same all suddenlie\n Seemd strangelie metamorphiz\u2019d to myne eye;\n The Helliconian spring, that did proceed\n From th\u2019hoofe of Pegasus that heauenlie steed,\n And those pure streames of virgin Castalie,\n The place of Ioue\u2019s nine daughters nurserie,\n Did seeme to haue resign\u2019d their proper place,\n Transported thither to that land\u2019s disgrace:\n Where, as I thought, I heard an heauenlie sound,\n Of which the place did euerie where redound:\n Vnto the which as I attentiue stood,\n Descending downe from out a neighbouring wood,\n I might behold the sacred sisters nine,\n Whether from heauen or other place diuine,\n I am vncertaine; but their way they made\n Where as I stood beneath the leauie shade:\n Before them all a goodlie ladie came\n In stately portance like Ioue\u2019s braine-borne dame,\n To wit, that virgin queene, the faire _Elize_,\n That whilom was our England\u2019s richest prize;\n In princelie station with great Iunoe\u2019s grace\n (Me seem\u2019d) she came in her maiesticke pace,\n Grac\u2019d with the lookes of daunting maiestie,\n Mixt with the meekenesse of milde clemencie;\n Such haue I seene her, when in princely state\n She goddesse-like in chariot high hath sate,\n When troopes of people with loud shouts and cries,\n Haue sounded out their auies in the skies:\n And rid each other in the present place\n With great desire to see her heau\u2019nly face:\n Mongst whom she came, as if Aurora faire\n Out of the east had newly made repaire,\n Making a sun-like light with golden shine\n Of her bright beauty in the gazer\u2019s eine.\n Approching neere the place where I did stand,\n With gratious beckning of her princely hand,\n She seem\u2019d to call to me; but sillie I,\n Daunted with presence of such maiestie,\n Fell prostrate downe, debasht with reuerent shame\n At sudden sight of so diuine a dame;\n Till she with gentle speech thus mildely said:\n \u201cStand vp,\u201d quoth she, \u201cand be no whit dismaid;\n Let loyall loue and zeale to me inflame\n Thy muse to sing the praises of my name;\n And let not thoughts of want, of worth, and skill,\n Impeach the purpose of thy forward quill;\n For though thy homely stile and slender verse\n Too humble seeme my praises to rehearse:\n Yet to the world, that I a Mirrour bee\n Amongst those many Mirrours writ by thee;\n Feare neither bite of dogged _Theon\u2019s_ tooth,\n Nor soone-shot bolts of giddie headed youth;\n For th\u2019awfull power of my sole dreaded name,\n Shall from thy verse auert all foule defame:\n And lest in any point thou chance to faile,\n Which may my name\u2019s great glorie ought auaile;\n Loe here the cheefest of the daughters nine\n Of sacred Memorie and Ioue diuine,\n Great Clioe\u2019s selfe, in order shall rehearse\n My storie to thee in her stately verse.\u201d\n This said, more swift then lightening from the skie,\n She on the suddaine vanisht from mine eye\n With all her nymphes, for none of all her traine\n Excepting Clio did with mee remaine,\n Who being the first borne childe of Memorie,\n The ladie was of noble historie,\n A peerelesse dame past al compare to sing\n The deeds, that vertue vnto light doth bring:\n In comelie garments, like some virgin maid\n Of Dian\u2019s troope, shee trimlie was arraid,\n Saue goddesse-like her globe-like head around\n With verdant wreath of sacred bay was crownd;\n From which downe either side her comelie face,\n Her golden lockes did flow with goodlie grace,\n And in her hand a lute diuinelie strung\n She held, to which oft times she sweetlie sung;\n With this she sat her downe vpon the ground,\n And with her fingers made the strings to sound,\n Vnto the which her sweet voice she did frame\n To sing the praises of _Elizae\u2019s_ name.\n Which hauing done, shee thus did silence break;\n \u201cWould God,\u201d quoth shee, \u201cher prayses I could speak,\n Who claimes a greater power her praise to sound,\n Then Ph\u0153bus self, if greater could be found:\n Yet will I triall make with all my might,\n With her great fame the golden starres to smite:\n Which while I sing, heark thou with heedful eare,\n And in thy mind the same hereafter beare:\u201d\n This said, she lightlie toucht each trembling string,\n And with sweet voice did thus diuinelie sing.\n\n\n\n\n ENGLAND\u2019S ELIZA.\n\n\n 1.\n\n When England\u2019s Ph\u0153bus _Henrie\u2019s_ hopefull sonne\n The world\u2019s rare Ph\u0153nix, princely _Edward_ hight,\n To death did yeeld, his glasee of life outrun,\n And Ph\u0153bus-like no more could lend his light:\n Then men did walke in shades of darkesome night,\n Whose feeble sight with errors blacke strooke blind,\n Could in no place time\u2019s faire _Fidessa_ find.\n\n 2.\n\n That blind borne monster, truthe\u2019s sterne opposite,\n Begotten first in Demogorgon\u2019s hall,\n Twixt vglie Erebus and grizlie night,\n The sonnes of truth did horriblie appall\n With her approch, much dreaded of them all:\n Who euer came in reach of her foule pawes,\n She in their blood imbru\u2019d her thirstie iawes.\n\n 3.\n\n Witnesse may bee the manie a burning flame,\n Made with the limbes of saints to mount on high,\n Whose constant soules without the least exclaime,\n In midst of death downe patientlie did lie,\n And in bright flames did clime the clow\u2019d-brow\u2019d skie:\n Yea, let _Elizae\u2019s_ woes in that blind age,\n A witnesse bee of bloodie error\u2019s rage.\n\n 4.\n\n Whose deepe distresse and dolefull miserie,\n I not assay to sing, but leaue the same\n To our deare sister sad Melpomene,\n That she her sweet patheticke voice may frame\n In dolefull dittie to condole the same:\n I onely here in high heroick streine,\n Do striue to sing of her triumphant reigne.\n\n 5.\n\n Ioue looking downe, from his celestiall throne\n With eies of pitie on poore England\u2019s woes,\n Did lend her helpe, when hope of helpe was none,\n And in his mercy did his power oppose\n Gainst error\u2019s night-borne children, her cheife foes,\n Who sought t\u2019obscure with cloudes of enuious night,\n Her Cynthia\u2019s shine, the lampe of all her light.\n\n 6.\n\n But he disperst those cloudes, and droue away\n The lowring stormes, that ouercast our skie,\n And made our glorious Cynthia to display\n Her heauenlie shine, to giue them light thereby,\n Who long before in darknesse bound did lie:\n For she it was, who with her sweet repaire\n From th\u2019hearts of men did banish black despaire.\n\n 7.\n\n Euen as that morning starre that doth display\n Her golden tresses in th\u2019orientall skie,\n Brings happie tidings of approching day\n To them, that long in bed do restlesse lie,\n Expecting comfort from the sun\u2019s bright eye:\n So our _Eliza_ did blest tidings bring\n Of ioy to those, whom sad distresse did sting.\n\n 8.\n\n No sooner did this empire\u2019s royall crowne\n Begirt the temples of her princelie hed;\n But that Ioue-borne Astrea straight came downe\n From highest heauen againe, to which in dread\n Of earth\u2019s impietie before shee fled:\n Well did shee know, _Elizae\u2019s_ happie reigne\n Would then renew the golden age againe.\n\n 9.\n\n The heau\u2019ns did smile on her with sweet delight,\n And thundering Ioue did laugh her foes to scorne,\n The god of warre did cease from bloodie fight,\n And fruitfull plentie did her land adorne\n With richest gifts, powr\u2019d from her plenteous horne,\n The happie seedes, which th\u2019hands of peace did sow\n In euerie place with goodlie fruit did grow.\n\n 10.\n\n Deuouring Mulciber, whose flames before\n With blood of holy men were heard to hisse,\n Of England\u2019s happie sonnes were seene no more:\n But truth and mercie did each other kisse,\n And brought sweet tidings of their heauenly blisse:\n All which by powerfull loue haue granted been\n For loue t\u2019_Eliza_, Albion\u2019s matchlesse queene.\n\n 11.\n\n Matchlesse for all the gifts of heauenly grace,\n For nature\u2019s good and happie destinie,\n All which, in one sole subiect hauing place,\n If they a mortall wight may beautifie,\n And giue a prince earth\u2019s true felicitie,\n She truly did enioy, while she did liue,\n That _summum bonum_, which this life could giue.\n\n 12.\n\n In th\u2019happie horoscope of her sweet birth,\n Both heauen and nature seemed to consent\n With fortune\u2019s selfe t\u2019augment their fame on earth,\n Each one in hope to perfect their intent,\n By this queene virgin and her gouernment,\n And 'mongst themselues, they seemed to contend,\n Who should to her the greatest gifts extend.\n\n 13.\n\n For when from _Annae\u2019s_ wombe, she came to light,\n Th\u2019whole aggregate of heau\u2019n from Ioue\u2019s high throne,\n Vnto the lowest orbe lookt blithe and bright,\n And in the same, each constellation\n Vnited was in sweet coniunction,\n Powring their influence of felicitie\n Vpon the virgin\u2019s blest natiuitie.\n\n 14.\n\n Nor can I tell the gifts of grace exact,\n With which heau\u2019n did enrich her royall mind,\n Had I a brazen throat or voice infract,\n A thousand tongues, and rarest words refin\u2019d,\n With vtterance swifter, then the swiftest winde;\n Yet were they all too weake at large to tell\n The gifts of grace, that in her soule did dwell.\n\n 15.\n\n Her setled faith, fixt in the highest heau\u2019n,\n Remained firme vnto her liue\u2019s last date,\n Nor her vndanted spirit could be driuen\n At any time one iot thereof t\u2019abate\n By Spaine\u2019s sterne threats, and Rome\u2019s pernitious hate,\n The ankor of the same, her hope, aboue\n Stood fixt vpon the promise of great Ioue.\n\n 16.\n\n Her deeds of mercie, not in hope to merit,\n Were true ostents of her fidelitie,\n For which a name on earth she shall inherit\n Which shall outliue the vading memorie\n Of spiteful! Rome\u2019s defaming forgerie;\n For not alone did we her bountie know,\n But forren shores the same likewise can show.\n\n 17.\n\n Heau\u2019n hauing dignifi\u2019d her soule diuine,\n With rarest gifts of goodly qualitie,\n Dame nature\u2019s selfe, as seeming to refine\n The common mixture of mortalitie,\n Into a matter of more puritie,\n Made for her soule a mansion house so faire,\n That few with it for beautie might compare.\n\n 18.\n\n And though her beautie were exceeding rare,\n Yet Rome\u2019s Lucretia for a sober eie\n So far renown\u2019d, with her might not compare,\n Nor the Greekes constant queene Penelope,\n Might match this maiden queene for modestie:\n For Ph\u0153be\u2019s selfe did want her gouernance\n In modest gesture and chaste countenance.\n\n 19.\n\n Thus heau\u2019n and nature hauing shew\u2019d their skill\n In perfecting a creature so diuine,\n Fortune, as loth so rare a worke to spill,\n At our Great Britaine maid did not repine,\n But did to her all happinesse assigne,\n Whereby no prince on earth yet euer was,\n That for rare gifts _Eliza_ did surpasse.\n\n 20.\n\n Cease then, yee black-mouth\u2019d brood of enuie\u2019s race,\n Men monsters like, or monsters like to men,\n Whose tongues with scandall tipt, seeke to disgrace\n Our royall soueraigne, Ioue\u2019s anoynted queene,\n Whose like in any age hath seldome been:\n Cease vipers, cease I say, from your offence,\n In spitting poyson at such excellence.\n\n 21.\n\n Yet, if your English Romanized hearts,\n Gainst nature\u2019s custome swell with foule defame,\n Brandish your stings, and cast your vtmost darts\n Against the greatnesse of her glorious name,\n Yet shall it liue to your eternall shame;\n Yea, though Rome, Spaine, and hell it selfe repine,\n Her fame on earth with sun-bright light shal shine.\n\n 22.\n\n And while that we, the brood of Ph\u0153bus wit\n In golden verse her deeds to light can bring,\n On mount Parnassus, as we safely sit,\n In such high straine her worth we all will sing,\n That earth\u2019s whole round of her great fame shall ring:\n For endlesse praise to her well may we giue,\n That did protect our cause, while she did liue.\n\n 23.\n\n O, how the wreath of Ph\u0153bus flowring bay,\n The victor\u2019s due desert, and learning\u2019s meed,\n Did flourish in her time without decay!\n Which to obtaine, each one did striue t\u2019exceed\n In high atchieuement of some glorious deed:\n Though now, alas, such custome is forgot,\n And loue of ease great Albion\u2019s sonnes doth blot.\n\n 24.\n\n Lull\u2019d in the bosome of securitie,\n Vpon th\u2019ignoble bed of idle ease,\n Foully defacing true nobilitie,\n Few now do care, but how they best may please\n The hungrie fancie of sweet loue\u2019s disease,\n That pitie \u2019tis so many a worthie wight,\n Let\u2019s honor flie for fancie\u2019s fond delight.\n\n 25.\n\n But wake, yee honor\u2019d impes of noble race;\n Rouze vp the dying sparkes of courage bold,\n \u2019Tis Clyo speakes to you, that she may place\n Your lasting praises writ with lines of gold,\n In flying fame\u2019s great booke to be inrol\u2019d,\n Yea let your father\u2019s late done deeds inflame\n Your sleeping thoughts to gaine a glorious name:\n\n 26.\n\n Who thought it not true honor\u2019s glorious prize\n By nimblie capring in a daintie dance,\n To win th\u2019affects of women\u2019s wanton eies,\n Ne yet did seeke their glorie to aduance\n By only tilting with a rush-like lance,\n But did in dreadfull death themselues oppose,\n To winne renowne against _Elizae\u2019s_ foes.\n\n 27.\n\n How stoutly did they march in honor\u2019s field,\n In stately station like the sonnes of fame,\n Led by renowne, who nere did let them yeeld,\n Though drown\u2019d in death in midst of martiall game,\n Till by their deeds they gain\u2019d a glorious name,\n Whose valour still _Eliza_ did direct\n Each where to beat downe wrong and right erect.\n\n 28.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 2._]\n\n When England\u2019s Scotland in distresse did stand,\n Ambitious _Guise_ intending her decay,\n England\u2019s faire virgin lent her helping hand,\n And soone did chace th\u2019insulting French away,\n That proudly did their ensignes there display:\n For that braue lord great _Grey_ of Wilton hight,\n Did force them thence by warre\u2019s impulsiue might.\n\n 29.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 4._]\n\n When France within it selfe diuided stood,\n Th\u2019aspiring _Guise_ in hostile furie bent\n Against braue _Condie_, prince of royall blood,\n Then our faire queene all danger to preuent,\n Great _Warwicke_ ore the seas broad bosome sent,\n Whose dreaded powers our Calice losse had quited,\n Had heau\u2019n not sicknesse through his host excited.\n\n 30.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Reg. 9._]\n\n When Ireland\u2019s great _Oneale_, first that did moue\n The Kernes and Gallowglasses, men of might,\n Vnto their soueraigne to renounce their loue,\n Hight _Henrie Sidnie_ that heroick knight,\n Did oft times turne him to inglorious flight,\n Till traytor-like mongst friends he found his fall,\n Who hew\u2019d his bodie into pieces small.\n\n 31.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 8._]\n\n Nor heere renowned _Randol_ braue esquire\n Can I forget to giue to thee thy right,\n When with thine owne few troopes, whose hearts on fire\n Thy valour set, thou put\u2019st to shamefull flight\n This _Shane Oneale_, and all his host in fight:\n Where though thou fell in venturing past the rest,\n Thy name shall liue in fame\u2019s great booke exprest.\n\n 32.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 12._]\n\n And heere at home, when in the north did rise\n The louring stormes stirr\u2019d vp by discontent\n Of peace-disturbers, who did enterprize\n By force of hand their soueraigne\u2019s right to rent,\n And take from her this kingdome\u2019s gouernment,\n Then stood vp many a loyall hearted peere,\n To shield her safe from threatning foe-men\u2019s feare.\n\n 33.\n\n For well they knew, with right it could not stand,\n That any one their soueraigne might displace,\n And take the scepter from the prince\u2019s hand:\n The rule of many is absurd and base,\n One prince must sit inthron\u2019d in iustice place;\n For many heads, what bodie euer bare,\n That was not monster like and out of square?\n\n 34.\n\n Which little did those iarring members know,\n When with their banner of the fiue wounds spread,\n And holy-seeming crosse, a fained show\n Of their vngodly zeale, they first made head\n At Durham\u2019s towne against their soueraigne dread,\n Where their first outrage men did vnderstand,\n In tearing th\u2019holy writs of God\u2019s owne hand.\n\n 35.\n\n Gainst whom, these great _Heroes_ vp did stand,\n Renowned _Sussex_, th\u2019eldest sonne of fame,\n Great _Warwicke_, _Rutland_, and stout _Cumberland_,\n Bold _Deuorax_, _Howard_ lord of Effingham,\n Braue lord of Perham _Willowby_ by name,\n _Scroope_, _Euers_, _Knoles_, all men of famous might,\n From whom their foes to Scotland tooke their fight.\n\n 36.\n\n[Sidenote: _L._[eonard] _D._[acre]]\n\n And thou braue _Hunsdon_ borne of prince\u2019s blood,\n Though last in place yet not the least in name,\n When a disloyall lord vndaunted stood,\n To bid thee battell, to thy endlesse fame,\n Thou mad\u2019st him flie the bounded field with shame:\n \u2019Gainst whom with thy few troopes, thou didst aduance\n And authoriz\u2019d high seruice with thy lance.\n\n 37.\n\n Vpon the bankes, where siluer Chelt doth glide,\n With his three thousand men in armes well dight,\n He stoutly stood and did thy charge abide,\n Gainst whom with fifteene hundred thou didst fight,\n And forc\u2019d him yeeld vnto thy powerfull might:\n For heartlesse from the field away he fled\n To Scotland by, to hide his shamefull hed.\n\n 38.\n\n And as the lordly lion, king of beasts,\n When he by chance hath lost his wished prey,\n Runs roring through the wood, and neuer rests\n Till he haue truly tract the readie way,\n Where he may follow his escaped prey:\n So noble _Hunsdon_ with his conquering crew,\n His flying foe to Scotland did pursue.\n\n 39.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno eodem_ 12.]\n\n With that stout sonne of Mars, great _Sussex_ bent,\n T\u2019inferre reuenge vpon the borderers by\n For misdemeanor done, much time he spent\n In making hostile spoile on th\u2019enemie,\n That sought to succour rebels treacherie:\n Which done, loden with honor and rich spoile,\n They made returne vnto their natiue soile.\n\n 40.\n\n Thus did these lords to their faire virgin queene,\n Returne with glorie got from euery place,\n Though at her greatnesse with malignant spleene,\n Many leaud sonnes of enuie\u2019s hellish race,\n Did much repine, and sought her name\u2019s disgrace:\n For spitefull enuie neuer doth repine,\n But where true vertue\u2019s glorie most doth shine.\n\n 41.\n\n Downe in the deepes of earth\u2019s profunditie\n Her dwelling is in dungeons darksome blind,\n Where she nere sees the bright sunne\u2019s cheerefull eie,\n Ne comfort of the wholesome aire doth finde,\n Tost to and fro by gentle breathing winde;\n But with the furies of the Stygian flood,\n Sits low in hell in hate of humane good.\n\n 42.\n\n The restlesse griefe, which carking care doth breed,\n Her thoughts with endlesse torment doth oppresse,\n Her woes of other\u2019s welfare do proceed,\n Ne euer is she seene to laugh, vnlesse\n At lucklesse hap of other\u2019s ill successe;\n For other\u2019s happinesse her woe doth bring,\n And all her ill from other\u2019s good doth spring.\n\n 43.\n\n To this foule helhound from that blood built towne,\n Which Tybur\u2019s siluer armes doe round imbrace,\n Blind error came, where truth was troden downe,\n Since bloodie _Phocas_ to the world\u2019s disgrace,\n Did seat the first false priest in _C\u00e6sar\u2019s_ place;\n And thence did error take her speedie flight\n To enuie\u2019s caue to worke the world despight.\n\n 44.\n\n Where when she came before the hags foule sight,\n _Elizae\u2019s_ glorie she did oft propose,\n And more to whet her forward to despight,\n She shew\u2019d how truth and loue their two chiefe foes,\n On that faire virgin only did repose,\n Which enuie\u2019s malice did so much augment,\n That she throughout the world with error went.\n\n 45.\n\n Blinde error bore foule enuie on her backe,\n And ouer many kingdoms tooke their flight,\n Where enuie\u2019s poison mixt with errors blacke,\n In scalding drops, as they did flie, did light\n Vpon the limbes of many a wretched wight,\n Which through their veins diffus\u2019d did swiftly run,\n Choaking that loue, that in their hearts did won.\n\n 46.\n\n At length to Rome with error, enuie came,\n Where gorg\u2019d with fulnesse of excessiue feast,\n Finding proud _Pius_, fift of that false name,\n Laid on soft couch his heauie head to rest,\n She laid her scuruie fist vpon his brest,\n And from his feet, euen to his sleepie head,\n She made her poison canker-like to spread.\n\n 47.\n\n And with more malice to augment his hate,\n She did propose vnto his enuious eye,\n Th\u2019admired glorie of _Elizae\u2019s_ state,\n And his lost priuiledge and dignitie\n In this her kingdome of great Britanie;\n Which did so vex great _Pius_, that on nought,\n But mischiefe gainst our queene thenceforth he thought.\n\n 48.\n\n His threatning bull, whose rore in ages past,\n The superstitious world did terrifie,\n Amongst _Elizae\u2019s_ subiects he did cast,\n Thereby to alienate their loyaltie,\n And dutie vow\u2019d to her soueraigntie;\n Yea pardon in it he did denounce to all,\n That from our queene their dutie would recall.\n\n 49.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 12._]\n\n Which bull, fond _Felton_, thy vnhappie hand\n Did fixe vpon that prelate\u2019s palace gate,\n Which doth by Paule\u2019s high towering temple stand;\n Where thou didst iustly meete thy wretched fate,\n The meed that traytors steps doth still await;\n Nor could that priest remit thy foule offence,\n Though with large sinne his bull did then dispence.\n\n 50.\n\n And though he did denounce both pardon and curse,\n Yet by the one small comfort didst thou find,\n Ne yet was England\u2019s happie state the worse;\n But as in gloomie caues and corners blinde,\n The sun\u2019s bright blazing beames most cleare we finde;\n So did the virgin\u2019s glorie shine most brim,\n When her proud foes did seeke the same to dim.\n\n 51.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 15._]\n\n[Sidenote: _Walter Deu_, Earle of Essex.]\n\n For hereupon, when with rebellious sword,\n Those stout strength-breathing Irish vp did stand,\n Renowned _Deuorax_ vicount Hereford,\n That most illustrate lord of high command,\n No sooner did approch with powerfull hand,\n But that the rebels daunted with his name,\n Armes laid aside, in humble manner came.\n\n 52.\n\n _Brian Mac-Phelin_, that much scath had done,\n With _Ferdorough Macgillastick_, that bold knight,\n By some surnam\u2019d the blind Scot\u2019s valiant sonne,\n With _Odonel_, _Roze_, _Oge_ and _Macknel_ hight,\n Did yeeld themselues to famous _Deuorax_ might,\n Which shewes, that he of heau\u2019n beloued was,\n That without blood could bring such things to passe.\n\n 53.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Reg. 18, 19, 20._]\n\n And heau\u2019n, the more to blesse our happie queene,\n After this Romish buls loud bellowing rore,\n Three times the famous _Frobisher_ was seene,\n In winged barkes full fraught with golden ore,\n Dancing ore Neptune\u2019s backe to England\u2019s shore:\n For _Iason_-like to his eternall fame,\n Thrice from Catay with golden fleece he came.\n\n 54.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 21._]\n\n To adde more fame to this for future time,\n Great _Drake_ to quell their pride that had set downe,\n Their _ne plus vltra_ in the farthest clime\n By seas, sands, rocks and many a sea-sieg\u2019d towne,\n Did compasse earth in spight of Neptune\u2019s frowne:\n For which his name with fame for aye is crown\u2019d,\n Whose barke still sailes about the world\u2019s whole round.\n\n 55.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anne Reg. 11, 15, 21._]\n\n And thee braue _Holstock_ may I not forget,\n Whose conquering sword on Neptune\u2019s high command\n _Elizae\u2019s_ haplesse foes hath often met,\n And brought them captiue with victorious hand,\n Rich fraught with spoile to _Albion\u2019s_ rockie strand,\n Whereby the greatnesse of _Elizae\u2019s_ name\n A terror both by land and seas became.\n\n 56.\n\n O what a princely charge did she maintaine\n Of men, munition and artillirie\n In flying castles on the purple maine,\n Which on the clowds of Thetis liquid skie,\n Seeming to frisk about for iollitie,\n Stood like safe centinels 'bout England\u2019s shore\n Making seas tremble at their cannons rore.\n\n 57.\n\n Thus did the heau\u2019ns showre downe felicitie\n In ample manner on _Elizae\u2019s_ state,\n At which Rome\u2019s holie sire did still enuie,\n Who failing in our English home-bred bate,\n In foraine shoares shew\u2019d his malignant hate:\n For by false _Desmond\u2019s_ meanes he made great show\n Gainst our _Elizae\u2019s_ weale to worke much woe.\n\n 58.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Reg. 22._]\n\n But heau\u2019n did soone oppose against his might\n Th\u2019heroick spirit, that burned in the hart\n Of noble _Grey_ of _Wilton_, that bold knight,\n Who vnto wounds did challenge th\u2019aduerse part\n In manie a field, who hauing felt the smart\n Of his keene sword, the stoutest hid his hed,\n And from his furie to the wilde woods fled.\n\n 59.\n\n And when th\u2019Iberian troopes did there display\n Rome\u2019s ensigne, in that castle hight Del Ore,\n In _Desmond\u2019s_ cause against our queene, great _Grey_\n Did thunder gainst their walls with cannons rore,\n Ne would from fierce assault desist before\n Vnto his furie passage he had made\n In Spanish blood to bathe his conquering blade.\n\n 60.\n\n Thus all his plots still failing in th\u2019euent,\n Preuented by heau\u2019n\u2019s all foreseeing eye,\n A thousand mischiefes now he gan inuent,\n Inuasion, outrage, murder, treacherie,\n Sounding the depths of all iniquitie;\n For all blacke deedes his vice-blackt thoughts could find,\n He turn\u2019d and return\u2019d in his vengefull minde.\n\n 61.\n\n Vpon his furrowed front, the signes of ire,\n Furie and rage, did sit like lowring night,\n And both his burning eyes like glowing fire\n Beneath his bended browes did sparkle bright,\n As irefull lightnings of his heart\u2019s despight,\n Yea nought could mollifie his raging teene,\n But blood and vengeance gainst our royall queene.\n\n 62.\n\n Amongst his holie sonnes he cald a quest,\n Whose counsell to his mischiefe might giue way,\n And to his raging thoughts at length giue rest,\n Setting his wrath on wing against that day,\n Wherein he purpos\u2019d England\u2019s swift decay;\n For by them all in counsell \u2019twas decreed,\n England should fall, _Elizae\u2019s_ hart should bleed.\n\n 63.\n\n The time was set by stratagems deuise,\n And force of hands to worke their wicked hate,\n The persons chosen for that enterprise,\n All bent to tread downe England\u2019s happie state\n Beneath the feete of some disaster sate,\n Bosting abroad before the deed was done,\n By their firme valor, what rich prize was wone.\n\n 64.\n\n The conquerd nations of the Indian soyle,\n At whose huge wealth the world is made to wonder,\n Their mother\u2019s wombe were forced to dispoyle,\n And rudely rend her golden ribs in sunder,\n Thereby to set on wing warre\u2019s roring thunder:\n For souldiers thoughts on golden wings flie far,\n And earth\u2019s rich spoiles are sinewes of the war.\n\n 65.\n\n Manie tall pines were leueld with the plaine\n By the confederates of the Latin shore,\n Being taught to flie vpon the purple maine\n By force of winde and strength of sable oare,\n That on the solid ground stood firme before,\n Whose hugenesse mightie mountaines did resemble,\n Making the monsters of the deepe to tremble.\n\n 66.\n\n The famous artizans, that by their art\n Do imitate the thunder of the skie,\n And digging downe into the earth\u2019s black hart,\n With that salt humor, that doth hidden lie,\n Into the ayre make fierie lightnings flie,\n Were all imploy\u2019d by Spaine\u2019s supreme command\n To hurle their thunder gainst our sea-sieg\u2019d land.\n\n 67.\n\n All warre habiliments they did prepare\n To set sterne Mars vpon his conquering feete,\n Their farre-fetcht Indian gold they did not spare,\n That nothing might be wanting, that was meet\n To furnish out their most vnconquered fleet;\n Before all which was consummate and done,\n Bright Ph\u0153bus oft his yearely race had runne.\n\n 68.\n\n Meane time Rome\u2019s dragon rousde his bloodie crest,\n And wau\u2019d his wings, from whence that rabble rout,\n That hell-hatch\u2019d brood, who, fed on error\u2019s brest\n And suck\u2019d her poysonous dugs, came crawling out\n As was their woont, to flie the world about:\n For those he hatch\u2019d beneath his shadie wings,\n T\u2019imploy \u2019gainst potentates and mightiest kings.\n\n 69.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Reg. 23._]\n\n Manie of these to England\u2019s shores he sent,\n All diuerslie attir\u2019d in strange array,\n Closely thereby to worke his foule intent,\n And by their presence to prepare a way\n Against the enterprize of that great day;\n In which Spaine\u2019s potent fleete the world\u2019s great wonder,\n With hidious horror should gainst vs enthunder.\n\n 70.\n\n Most of the which (O that time\u2019s swan-white wings\n Could sweepe away record of such foule shame)\n Where home-borne impes, vntimely shot vp, springs\n Of Britaine brood, Britaine\u2019s alone by name,\n By nature monsters borne of foule defame,\n That sought the ruine, shame, decay and death\n Of their deare dam, from whom they took their breath.\n\n 71.\n\n Vnkindly impes, euen from your birth accurst,\n Detested stock of viper\u2019s bloodie brood,\n That sought to satisfie your burning thirst\n By drinking vp your dying mother\u2019s blood,\n Making her death your life, her hurt your good;\n Your deeds are sunke to Plutoe\u2019s darksome den,\n Shame is your portion mongst the sonnes of men.\n\n 72.\n\n Mee seemes, I see them walk about the brim\n Of black Styx dangerous flood, where Dis doth wonne,\n Prince of dead night and darknesse gloomie grim,\n Howling for passage, where deep Styx doth run,\n Although in vaine, their funerall rites not done:\n For hatefull fowles of heau\u2019n being their best graue,\n No passage to Elyzium can they haue.\n\n 73.\n\n Alas, how error, enuie and despaire\n Did troope them vp to leade them on the way,\n Error orecast their skie, darkened their ayre,\n Obscur\u2019d their sight, then enuie did assay\n To make them seeke truth\u2019s ruine and decay;\n Which hauing faild, despaire to them did bring\n Confusion, shame, and conscience griping sting.\n\n 74.\n\n In fatall barkes fast flying ore the maine,\n They daylie came with doctrine seeming sound,\n In which as meritorious they maintaine\n The bloodie hand that should his prince confound,\n If good thereby to holy church redoun\u2019d,\n Aboue all whom the self-conceited _Campian_\n Past all compare, was reckn\u2019d Rome\u2019s arch champian.\n\n 75.\n\n This English Romane wretch with manie more\n Did spred themselues disguis\u2019d about the land,\n Seducing daylie both the rich and poore\n Against their prince to lift rebellious hand,\n Renouncing as vniust her dread command,\n And \u2019gainst the time appointed to prouide\n With forren force to set vp Romane pride.\n\n 76.\n\n And then with dread and horror to dismay\n Their wauering thoughts, they set before their eyes\n The generall slaughter of that dismall day,\n When Spaine\u2019s black fleet on Neptune\u2019s liquid skies\n Should woefull England suddenlie surprise;\n Wishing them craue the pope\u2019s protection\n T\u2019escape such horror and confusion.\n\n 77.\n\n But as the wolfe disguis\u2019d with fleecie skin\n Of sillie sheep, the shepheard long did blinde,\n And 'mongst the flock thereby did credit win,\n Till he at length, did by his bloodie minde\n Bewray himselfe to be a wolfe by kinde:\n So they, though making manie saint-like showes\n Did by their deeds themselues at length disclose.\n\n 78.\n\n With shamefull death, their shamefull liues took end,\n Leaning on earth for signes of infamie\n Their totter\u2019d carcases, to which no friend\n At anie time, could giue due obsequie,\n Or scarse bewaile their woefull destinie;\n But left they were for prey, both daies and nights\n To black night rauens and to hungrie kites.\n\n 79.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Reg. 24._]\n\n Which might haue been a terror vnto those,\n That after sought the faire _Elizae\u2019s_ fall,\n And in their harts did wickedlie suppose\n To England\u2019s bounds againe back to recall\n The popish pride and Romane slauish thrall:\n But after this did manie vndergoe\n Dire death and shame, to worke _Elizae\u2019s_ woe.\n\n 80.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Reg. 26._]\n\n First furious _Sommeruile_, that posting came\n With his owne hands to act his soueraigne\u2019s death,\n Preuented in the way, to shun such shame\n As might ensue, did stop his owne deare breath,\n Thinking the same a far more glorious death;\n But simple man with far more shame thereby,\n Thy trembling ghost vnto the dead did flie.\n\n 81.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. eodem._ _F._[rancis] _T_[hrogmorton]]\n\n The next, whose shame no time away shall sweepe,\n Was he, who by the helpe of traytor\u2019s hand,\n Searching the mighty Neptune\u2019s waterie deepe,\n Vs\u2019d all his art and skill to vnderstand\n The depth of euery hauen in this land;\n Thereby to giue safe conduct to the foe,\n And bring them in to worke his countrie\u2019s woe.\n\n 82.\n\n He went to that great God\u2019s dread kingdome\u2019s bounds,\n Who often chargeth on the clouds in skie,\n Who cuffes the seas, who by his power confounds\n High hils and mountaines, who doth terrifie\n Euen the sad ghosts of Plutoe\u2019s emperie;\n He went to know what winde the fleet should wing,\n That should confusion vnto England bring.\n\n 83.\n\n O, vnremorsefull man! O, wretched wight!\n Shame to thy selfe and thy posteritie,\n Nor friends nor countrie\u2019s good, to whom of right\n Thy care was due, nor loue of loyaltie\n To thy dread queene thy heart might mollifie,\n But wing\u2019d with mischiefe, hauing once begun,\n Thou to vntimely death didst head-long run.\n\n 84.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. eodem._]\n\n Whose wretched steps, in that same fatall way\n That leads to house of death, loe many more\n Had follow\u2019d fast in giuing like assay,\n Had not our queene, whose virgin bosome bore\n A melting heart admir\u2019d for mercie store,\n In pitie far excell\u2019d th\u2019impietie\n Of their false treason \u2019gainst her maiestie.\n\n 85.\n\n[Sidenote: Read the certificat of the prince\u2019s mercie written by their\nowne hands. _Ralph Hol._ p. 1413.]\n\n Out of her bountious grace and princely mind,\n She gaue them passage at her owne expence,\n Seidome on earth such mercie shall we find,\n For which strooke blind with shame of their offence,\n Against a person of such excellence,\n They sent their owne hand writs to testifie\n This worthie deed to all posteritie.\n\n 86.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 27._]\n\n Yet that vngratefull man, to whom before\n Iustly conuicted for foule felonie,\n Renown\u2019d _Eliza_ did lost life restore,\n Sought to enact a bloodie tragedie\n Vpon the person of her maiestie,\n To wit that boaster who did beare the name\n Of doctor _Parrie_ to increase his fame.\n\n 87.\n\n The Babylonian bawd, whose strumpet-breath\n Giues life to treason, did with him conspire\n To end their vengeance in the virgin\u2019s death;\n And lest his heart should faile and he retire\n From his intent, to wing him with desire,\n His soule from sin, from death, and hell was freed,\n With impious hands to act this tragicke deed.\n\n 88.\n\n The foolish man with resolution came,\n As sent from heau\u2019n, yet did it nought auaile:\n For getting licence to this royall dame\n With her to talke alone, his heart did faile,\n Her lookes alone his height of sprite did quaile;\n For daunted with her sight, he did repent,\n And closely sought to colour his intent.\n\n 89.\n\n He did declare to her, how he had taken\n A solemne oath to take her life away,\n And how her soueraigntie he had forsaken,\n The Romish beast as supreame head t\u2019obay,\n Who by his hands expected her decay,\n To which, he said, he did but seeme t\u2019agree,\n That so it might by him detected bee.\n\n 90.\n\n The royall virgin, when as she did heare\n The wicked purpose of her treacherous foe,\n To shew how little she the same did feare,\n Pardon\u2019d him in secret, that no peere might know\n His leaud intent, and so might worke him woe:\n O height of princely spirit, past humane sence!\n O mercie past compare, for such offence!\n\n 91.\n\n Yet this false wretch, in whose obdurate heart\n No loyall loue did dwell, persisted still\n In his blacke treason, and did vse all art\n Oft times with dagger, dag or any ill,\n T\u2019effect the purpose of his bloodie will:\n Which once being brought to light for such offence,\n His grudging ghost with shame was posted hence.\n\n 92.\n\n Thus Rome\u2019s blood-thirsting wolues with cruell pawes,\n Sought daily to deuoure our virgin lambe,\n And plunge poore England in death\u2019s yawning iawes,\n Hiding for aye the glorie of her name,\n Rakte vp in cinders of a ruthlesse flame:\n Thereby t\u2019extinguish that celestiall light,\n Which Rome\u2019s red dragon did so sore affright.\n\n 93.\n\n They knew for certaine, while our glorious lampe,\n Our maiden queene did liue to lend vs light,\n She would disperse foule errors dismall dampe,\n Which suffocates the soule, and choakes the sight\n With fearefull shadowes of eternall night;\n Yea much they fear\u2019d pure truth\u2019s true light diuine,\n Which then in forren shores began to shine.\n\n 94.\n\n The sea-diuided seuenteene lands great nation,\n The Belgick borderers by the bankes of Rheine,\n Cast off Rome\u2019s yoke, and left their blind deuotion,\n With one consent beginning to incline\n Vnto a truth more perfect, more diuine;\n Which they with martyr\u2019d blood did long maintaine,\n Gainst th\u2019inquisition of Rome-wronged Spaine.\n\n 95.\n\n But at the last, when with warre\u2019s dreadfull thunder,\n _Don Iohn_ of Austria and his warlike band,\n Began to shake the Belgicke state in sunder,\n To tyrannize and bring them with strong hand\n Beneath the yoke of _Philip\u2019s_ sterne command,\n The great _Eliza_ they did humblie craue,\n Their Belgick state from hostile spoile to saue.\n\n 96.\n\n The Briton maid, remorsefull of their woes,\n In their defence did lift her royall hand,\n Against the threats of their inuading foes,\n And sent in safe conduct a warlike band,\n With fame-grac\u2019d _Norrice_ to the Belgicke strand;\n Which with his valiant crew he did maintaine,\n Against the incursions of the power of Spaine.\n\n 97.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. eodem._ _Drake\u2019s_ voyage to Carthagena and Domingo.]\n\n Meane time th\u2019 vndaunted _Drake_ no time did sleepe,\n Vpon the maine king _Philip\u2019s_ powers to sease,\n Who thought himselfe the Neptune of the deepe;\n But of such yoke, the sea-gods sonnes to ease,\n _Drake_ tooke from him the scepter of the seas,\n And put the same in his faire soueraigne\u2019s hand,\n Teaching the deepe to know her milde command.\n\n 98.\n\n Her winged barkes, like sea-nymphes in their flight,\n The aged sea-god\u2019s daughter safely bore,\n Whose nimble dance the deepe did so delight,\n That 'bout their bosomes sweeping by the shore\n The siluer waues did play with wanton rore,\n Thinking themselues releas\u2019d from yoke of Spaine,\n Whose gold-heap\u2019d mountaines did oppresse the maine.\n\n 99.\n\n With these vpon the seas, the noble _Drake_\n Did saile as lord of th\u2019ocean emperie,\n At whose dread name th\u2019Iberians hearts did quake,\n Who left the rule of Neptune\u2019s moistned skie\n To _Drake\u2019s_ command, and to the shores did flie,\n Whom now for ancient wrongs done long before,\n He with swift vengeance follow\u2019d to the shore.\n\n 100.\n\n Braue _Carlile_, _Winter_, _Frobisher_ and _Knoles_,\n With many more of Neptune\u2019s noble race,\n Made peopled cities place for beasts and fowles,\n Burnt bowers, sackt towers, raz\u2019d townes before the face\n Of their base foes, who fled with foule disgrace,\n Leauing wife, children, gold and goods for pray,\n By stranger people to be borne away.\n\n 101.\n\n Foure townes in this their voyage they did foile,\n First did Saint Iago by their power decline,\n That done, then Saint Domingo did they spoile,\n Next towring Carthagena, and in fine\n In Terra Florida, Saint Augustine:\n Thus fortune with rich spoile their deeds did crowne,\n And home they came with glorie and renowne.\n\n 102.\n\n And while these valiant men, true sonnes of fame,\n In forren shores our foe-mens force did quell,\n And by their deeds made knowne _Elizae\u2019s_ name,\n The stif-neckt Irish proudly did rebell,\n Whose hearts with stubborne pride did euer swell:\n But noble _Bingham_, that illustrate knight,\n Did bring them downe and tame their towring might.\n\n 103.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 28._ Taken from a note confirmed vnder the hands\nof diuers gentlemen imployed in this action.]\n\n When that false traytor, _Mahowne Obrian_\n To Rome\u2019s proud strumpet bound his loue to show,\n In Thomond with rebellious hand began,\n To stirre vp strife, and worke his countrie\u2019s woe,\n In hope to haue been backt by forren foe,\n In warre affaires this _Bingham_ far renown\u2019d,\n In castle Clanowen did him confound.\n\n 104.\n\n And when the _Burkes_, who did false rumours noise\n Of wrong intended gainst their countries good,\n With _Clangibbons_, with _Clandonnels_ and _Ioyes_,\n Themselues in armes did bound and proudly stood\n On daring tearmes in field to spend their blood,\n Renowned _Bingham_ with his valiant crew,\n Did them through woods from caue to caue pursue.\n\n 105.\n\n And when the Redshankes on the borders by\n Incursions made, and rang\u2019d in battell stood\n To beare his charge, from field he made them flie,\n Where fishie Moine did blush with crimson blood\n Of thousand foes, that perisht in the flood,\n For which braue _Bingham_ crown\u2019d with endlesse fame,\n Enioyes on earth a neuer dying name.\n\n 106.\n\n[Sidenote: _Sixtus Quintus_ Pope.]\n\n[Sidenote: Earle of Leic.]\n\n Although these ciuill warres of home-bred hate,\n First hatcht at Rome by England\u2019 ancient foe,\n Did much disturbe _Elizae\u2019s_ blessed state,\n Yet did the royall virgin not forgoe\n Th\u2019afflicted Belgians drencht in depth of woe:\n But to support them gainst all foes annoy,\n For that designe, she _Dudley_ did employ.\n\n 107.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno eodem 28._]\n\n Who, Iason-like to Colchos iland bound\n To fetch the golden fleece by force of hand,\n With many great Heroes far renown\u2019d,\n Past with triumphant sailes ore seas and sand,\n From England\u2019s shores vnto the Belgicke strand,\n Where after all their high atchieuements done,\n Their fleece was fame, their gold was glorie won.\n\n 108.\n\n O, noble virgin! O, victorious dame,\n England\u2019s Bellona, nurse of chiualrie!\n What age brought forth so many sonnes of fame,\n In all the world\u2019s thrice-changed monarchie,\n As in the time of thy great emperie?\n Whose deeds from England\u2019s bounds did beare thy name,\n As far as Ph\u0153bus spreads his golden flame.\n\n 109.\n\n Who now arriuing on the Belgian coast\n With fatall steele did deepe ingraue thy name,\n Vpon the proudest crests in that great host\n That with the valiant prince of Parma came,\n Enacting wonders for immortall fame;\n Witnesse those famous deeds by Zutphen done,\n Where many high exploits were vndergone.\n\n 110.\n\n[Sidenote: Recorded at large by _I. Stow_, in his Ann. pag. 1233, taken\nout of _H. Archer_.]\n\n When both the aduerse powres afront did meet,\n Although the foe farre more in number were;\n Yet did our men with Mars swift-winged feet,\n Charge on their troopes, whose hearts strooke dead with feare,\n Vnable to resist, they backe did beare,\n T\u2019whom valiant _Audlie_ in their faint recoyle,\n With his foot-bands alone did giue the foyle.\n\n 111.\n\n Then th\u2019Albanois vnto the rescue came\n With their horse troopes, amongst whom stout _Norris_ went,\n And boldly singl\u2019d out a man of fame,\n Gainst whom his pistoll with full charge he bent\n To act his fall; but failing in th\u2019euent,\n His foe-man\u2019s head he with the same did greet,\n And made him fall at his victorious feet.\n\n 112.\n\n[Sidenote: Lo. _Will._ of Eresbeie.]\n\n Next noble _Willoughby_ with lance in rest,\n Arm\u2019d like the god of warre on winged horse,\n Met captaine _George_, opposing brest to brest,\n Whom from his steed halfe dead with furious force,\n He downe did beare in his winde-winged course,\n Who falling said: \u201cI yeeld me to thy might, [Sidenote: This he\n In that I see thou art a seemely knight.\u201d spake in French.]\n\n 113.\n\n[Sidenote: _Rob._ Earle of Essex.]\n\n Then noble _Deuorax_, Mars his yongest sonne,\n Chear\u2019d vp his troope, \u201cFellowes in armes,\u201d quoth he,\n \u201cThe honorable prease let vs not shunne,\n Ne with the dread of death dismaied be,\n But for your countrie\u2019s glorie follow me:\u201d\n Which said, he fiercely charg\u2019d on th\u2019enemie,\n And shew\u2019d high proofe of his stout valiancie.\n\n 114.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir _William Russell_.]\n\n To second him, _Russell_ that martiall knight,\n Like feathered shaft sent from a stiffe-bent bow,\n Or boysterous Boreas in his nimble flight,\n With weightie lance did charge vpon the foe,\n And horse and man to ground did ouerthrow,\n Who with affright did from his furie runne,\n As braying goats the king of beasts doth shunne.\n\n 115.\n\n Amongst them all, that impe of honor\u2019s bed,\n That worthie of the world, that hardie knight,\n The noble _Sidnie_ to aduentures led\n With glory-thirsting zeale in death\u2019s despight\n Vpon his foes himselfe did noblie quight:\n For in one skirmish with high valiancie,\n Thrice did he charge vpon the enemie.\n\n 116.\n\n But cursed fortune, foe to famous men,\n Beholding _Sidnie\u2019s_ deeds with enuious eie,\n Turning her malice into raging teene,\n With deadly shot did wound him on the thigh,\n Which from a foe-man\u2019s fatall peece did flie:\n Whose timelesse end, if time did serue thereto,\n I should bewaile in lines of lasting woe.\n\n 117.\n\n Many more sonnes of Mars his noble race,\n In this daie\u2019s fight great fame with perill wonne,\n Yea many high exploits each breathing space,\n By many a worthie wight were vndergone;\n Mongst whom that deed with resolution done,\n By valiant _Williams_, and the Belgian _Skinke_,\n Downe to obliuion\u2019s den shall neuer sinke.\n\n 118.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno eodem 28._]\n\n[Sidenote: _H. Archer_, Author.]\n\n For when that well wall\u2019d towne, which Venlo hight,\n Was round about begirted by the foe,\n Huge spirit and high conceit did so excite\n Stout _Williams\u2019_ mightie mind, to vndergoe\n Some great attempt, that he full bent to show\n Proofe of his valour by some famous act,\n With hardie _Skinke_ this wonder did enact:\n\n 119.\n\n When grizly night her iron carre had driuen\n From her darke mansion house, that hidden lies\n In Plutoe\u2019s kingdome, to the top of heau\u2019n,\n And with black cloake of clouds muffling the skies,\n With sable wings shut vp all wakefull eies,\n Obscur\u2019d with darknesse grim they both did go,\n To act this stratagem vpon the foe:\n\n 120.\n\n Husht were the winds, the aire all silent was,\n Sad was the night, in skies appear\u2019d no starre;\n Yet through darke horror dreadlesse did they passe,\n And listning vnto euery breach of aire,\n With stealing steps this dangerous worke did dare,\n Whom at the length the dark night\u2019s shadie wing,\n Into the foe-men\u2019s campe did closely bring.\n\n 121.\n\n Where, when they came, the vtmost watch they found\n Vpon the ground all carelessely dispread,\n Who tir\u2019d with toile, lay in deepe sleepe fast drown\u2019d,\n And as they slept, each one secure of dread,\n His weapon had fast fixed at his head,\n Mongst whom, like hungrie wolues on flockes vnkept,\n Stout _Skinke_ and worthie _Williams_ boldly stept.\n\n 122.\n\n Then death triumpht in slaughter of the slaine,\n Soules strugling in the pangs of many a wound,\n Departs in griefe and makes aire sigh againe,\n Swords blusht with blood, grim horror did abound,\n A crimson dew stood on the grassie ground;\n Disorder, dread, death, noise and darknesse grim,\n In blood and gore of slaughtred foes did swim.\n\n 123.\n\n[Sidenote: The Prince of Parma.]\n\n By the still watch and two strong courts of gard,\n Through death, through blood and armes they boldly went,\n Vntill they came, where horriblie they scar\u2019d\n The prince himselfe sweet sleeping in his tent,\n Whom in their power they long\u2019d to circumuent,\n Where many a noble wight fast snoring drown\u2019d,\n In deepest sleepe with death they did confound.\n\n 124.\n\n But as their swords they in their foes did sheath,\n At last, through massacres, through shrikes and cries\n Of sad soules groning in the pangs of death,\n On euery side the startled foes did rise,\n And shrikt out thicke alarmes to shun surprise,\n Crying arme, arme, whereby appall\u2019d with feare,\n Th\u2019whole host in sudden throngs all gathered were.\n\n 125.\n\n Then fled the valiant _Skinke_, blacke death to shun,\n But hardie _Williams_ in contention stood\n With his great mind, if he more fame t\u2019haue won,\n Should stoutly stay, and hazard his owne good,\n With slaughtering sword to shed more foe-men\u2019s blood:\n Whereby at length in depth of danger drown\u2019d,\n By armed foes, he was incircled round.\n\n 126.\n\n But by aduantage of the gloomie night\n Amongst the foe-men\u2019s troopes, vnknowne he goes,\n And cri\u2019d: \u201cWhere\u2019s _Williams_? where is _Williams_ hight?\u201d\n To whom againe one answer\u2019d amongst the foes,\n \u201cPursue, pursue with speed, before he goes:\u201d\n Thus cloudie night this worthie wight did saue,\n Who shun\u2019d his foes, and fled his darksome graue.\n\n 127.\n\n These were the foster children of that nurse,\n England\u2019s Minerua, queene of glorie bright,\n Who through the paths of warre their way did force,\n In armes to get true honor\u2019s meed by might,\n And grace their name with title of true knight:\n Which honor\u2019d order only vertue\u2019s meed,\n Each one then purchas\u2019d by some glorious deed.\n\n 128.\n\n But while these captaines wedded to renowne,\n True loyall subiects of a royall queene,\n On Belgian shores their soueraigne\u2019s head did crowne,\n With conquering wreath of neuer vading greene,\n In spight of spight for aye fresh to be seene,\n Rome\u2019s raging Python full of furious wrath,\n Did once againe belch vp his poisoned froth.\n\n 129.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno eodem 28._]\n\n Foureteene false traytors from darke treason\u2019s den\n He vp did call, foule elues of enuious night,\n Rebels accurst, monsters abhorr\u2019d of men,\n Who for the black fleet now alreadie dight,\n To passe th\u2019vnfruitfull deepe with all her might,\n Should make fit passage gainst that dreadfull day,\n By their sweet prince and countrie\u2019s swift decay.\n\n 130.\n\n _Ballard_, first author in this villanie,\n Sent from the triple-crowned sonne of night,\n To put in practise this their treacherie,\n Proud _Babington_ and _Sauage_ did excite,\n With vnremorsefull hands of violent might,\n To spoile and ruinate their countrie\u2019s good,\n And bathe their swords in their deare soueraigne\u2019s blood.\n\n 131.\n\n[Sidenote: _Babington_ made choice of the six.]\n\n Six resolute and bloodie minded mates,\n Should haue been actors in her tragedie,\n Then the graue peeres and honorable states,\n Had been the slaughter of their butcherie,\n And thou, O, glorie of this emperie!\n Thy loftie towers been leuell\u2019d with the plaine,\n Thy nauie burnt, and many a thousand slaine.\n\n 132.\n\n Such dismall deeds and blacke confusion,\n By proud Rome\u2019s twice-seuen sonnes intended were\n Against the time of that inuasion,\n Report whereof with terror and with feare,\n Swift-winged fame about the world did beare;\n But high heau\u2019n\u2019s King, who for his seruant chose\n Our virgin queene, their drifts did soone disclose.\n\n 133.\n\n Their plot bewray\u2019d, each one did seeke t\u2019escape,\n Vengeance pursuing them from place to place,\n Hight _Babington_ attir\u2019d in rusticke shape,\n With walnut-leaues discolouring his face,\n Did seeke t\u2019escape sad death and foule disgrace:\n And all the rest being clad in strange disguise,\n With trembling feare did seeke to shun surprise.\n\n 134.\n\n As guiltie homicides, that in dead night\n Pursu\u2019d for tragick deeds of dismall death,\n To woods and groues disperst, do take their flight,\n Whose gloomie shade they trembling stand beneath,\n With fainting knees, cold spirit and panting breath,\n With feare, expecting at their backes behinde,\n The pursuit made at euery puffe of winde:\n\n 135.\n\n Euen so these wretched men, whose selfe-doom\u2019d soules,\n Now prickt with deepe remorse, did daily looke\n To be the spoile and prey of hungrie fowles,\n From place to place their couert passage tooke,\n Whose hearts the thought of death with horror shooke,\n Vntill surpriz\u2019d at length, vntimely death\n To end this feare expir\u2019d their fainting breath.\n\n 136.\n\n Of whose surprise, when as the trumpe of fame\n Had blowen the blast, the subiect euer giuen\n To blesse the fate of so diuine a dame,\n For this so strange escape did morne and euen,\n With praises magnifie the King of heau\u2019n,\n Imploring still his gratious hands for helpes,\n Against the danger of that dragon\u2019s whelpes.\n\n 137.\n\n That day was held diuine, and all the night\n Consum\u2019d in p\u00e6ans to th\u2019Olympian king,\n Then crown\u2019d they cups of wine, and with delight\n At sumptuous feasts did sit, while belles did ring,\n And sweet voic\u2019d minstrels round about did sing,\n Whose suppers sauour wrapt in clouds on high,\n The friendly winds blew vp into the skie.\n\n 138.\n\n And as the siluer moone in calmest night,\n When she in shining coach the skies doth scale,\n As golden starres, that in the heau\u2019ns shine bright,\n When gentle Auster blowes a pleasing gale,\n Do glad the shepheards in the lowly vaile:\n So many thousand flames, that glaz\u2019d the skies,\n Did at that time glad all true English eies.\n\n 139.\n\n But most of all, that plentious peopled towne,\n _Elizae\u2019s_ best belou\u2019d, faire London hight,\n Her mistresse rare escape with ioy did crowne,\n Whose loftie towers thrust vp themselues in sight,\n And ioy\u2019d to glitter in the golden light,\n Affrighting sore sad night\u2019s black drowzie dame,\n With splendor of huge fires refulgent flame.\n\n 140.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 29._ _Drake\u2019s_ voyage to East Cales. Out of the\nsecond part of the second volume of Nauigations, p. 121. _Hakluit._]\n\n This ioy once past t\u2019auenge that villanie,\n Which Rome did by this bloodie plot pretend,\n Against _Elizae\u2019s_ sacred maiestie,\n The aged sea-god\u2019s backe, _Drake_ did ascend,\n And towards the foes wing\u2019d with reuenge did wend,\n Mongst whom his name had been the gastly bug,\n T\u2019affright yong infants at the mother\u2019s dug.\n\n 141.\n\n His fleet transferr\u2019d, with prosperous gale did sweepe\n Through parted wanes of Thetis waterie skie,\n Vnto the shores of the Castilian deepe,\n In whose proud billowes he did wafting lie,\n Vntill for truth he heard by his espie,\n Of that prepare, that in Cales harbor lay,\n For Spaine\u2019s Armada gainst th\u2019appointed day.\n\n 142.\n\n Then gaue he order for the nauall fight,\n And in the euening tide, when setting sun\n Leaues steepe Olympus to the darkesome night,\n The pine-plough\u2019d seas with black clouds ouerrun,\n To giue the onset valiant _Drake_ begun:\n Hurling forth burning flames with hidious rore,\n Of brazen cannon on th\u2019Iberian shore.\n\n 143.\n\n And as, when Boreas in a tempest raues,\n Leaping with wings of lightning from the skie,\n Makes clouds to crack and cuffes the swelling waues,\n Who from the storme of his fierce furie flie,\n In roling billowes on the bankes fast by;\n So wrapt in clouds of smoake and lightning pale,\n With dreadfull fight, _Drake_ did his foes assaile.\n\n 144.\n\n Six gallies thwart the towne at first did stand\n The violent onset, which the English gaue;\n But had they with strong oares and readie hand,\n Not made swift speed themselues and fleet to saue,\n They with the same had perisht in the waue;\n For _Drake_ with fire in hand without delay,\n Had burnt their ships and sunke them in the sea.\n\n 145.\n\n But loe a richer prize, he soone had wonne,\n Which did repay that losse with trebble gaine,\n Three barkes, of which each bore a thousand tunne,\n And in the deepe such compasse did containe,\n Seeming like floting mountaines on the maine,\n With cannons wounding shot he did intombe,\n With all their men in Thetis watrie wombe.\n\n 146.\n\n Nor yet could this his noble heart suffice,\n But with more conquest to renowne his name,\n Thirtie eight ships his valour did surprise,\n Of which most part with fire he did enflame,\n The rest he kept for trophies of his fame,\n Which in the sight of Cales that loftie towne,\n He brought away in triumph and renowne.\n\n 147.\n\n And as a bellowing bull, that doth disdaine,\n Amongst an heard of cattell grazing by,\n That any other bull in all the plaine,\n Should proudly beare his curled head on high,\n But makes him basely yeeld, or fainting flie:\n So did great _Drake_, as lord of all the deepe,\n His foes on th\u2019ocean in subiection keepe.\n\n 148.\n\n And when of all great _Philip\u2019s_ nauall might,\n On the seas wildernesse none durst appeare,\n _Drake_ to prouoke his heartlesse foes to fight,\n With his whole fleet vnto the shore did beare,\n Where three strong holds by him assaulted were,\n With that faire castle of Cape Sacre hight,\n All which did fall beneath his nauall might.\n\n 149.\n\n From thence to seas with his triumphant sailes\n He did returne, wafting vpon the waues\n Before hight Lisbone, neere to easterne Cales,\n Where of th\u2019Iberians he the combate craues,\n Though none amongst them durst interrupt his braues,\n But fled into the ports and harbours by,\n Where out of danger they might hidden lie.\n\n 150.\n\n Yet thence he rouz\u2019d them, while that heartlesse knight,\n The marques of Saint Cruz lay wafting by\n In his swift sayling gallies, in whose sight\n _Drake_ burnt and spoil\u2019d his ships and made them flie,\n Who to his care for helpe did seeme to crie:\n Yet durst he not come forth in their defence,\n But suffred _Drake_ to lead them captiue thence.\n\n 151.\n\n A hundred ships with furniture full fraught\n For Spaine\u2019s Armada, that world-wondred fleet,\n He did dispoile, and some away he brought\n As signes of victorie, which as most meet\n He did subiect at faire _Elizae\u2019s_ feet;\n The praise of which with humble zeale and loue,\n She offred vp to heau\u2019n as due to Ioue.\n\n 152.\n\n Such humble thoughts in such a noble mind,\n Do beat downe pride in chiefe felicitie:\n And such a noble mind in kingly kind,\n With best aduice, doth teach true maiestie,\n To shew it selfe in milde humilitie,\n Such humble thoughts, such noble minde had she,\n Which in her heart, heart-searching Ioue did see.\n\n 153.\n\n For which in spight of her death-threatning foes,\n As high as heau\u2019n, he did exalt her name,\n And did his blacke death-darting hand oppose\n Against her brauing foes, that proudly came\n With all their power gainst such a royall dame,\n Whose mightie fleete, fifteene yeares worke of wonder,\n Now launcht into the seas began to thunder.\n\n 154.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 30. 1588._]\n\n For now loue\u2019s helm\u2019d-deckt sonne, the god of warre,\n Rouz\u2019d from his rest with cannons dreadfull rore,\n Leapt on the earth from out his iron carre,\n Shooke his strong lance, steept in black blood and gore,\n Whose brazen feet did thunder on the shore,\n The noise of which that from the earth did bound,\n Made all the world to tremble at the sound.\n\n 155.\n\n And vp from darkesome lymboe\u2019s dismall stage,\n Ore Stygian bridge from Plutoe\u2019s emperie,\n Came night\u2019s blacke brood, Disorder, Ruine, Rage,\n Rape, Discord, Dread, Despaire, Impietie,\n Horror, swift Vengeance, Murder, Crueltie,\n All which together on th\u2019Iberian strand,\n With Spaine\u2019s great host troopt vp did ready stand.\n\n 156.\n\n Fame downe descending from her siluer bower,\n On duke _Medinae\u2019s_ huge black barke did stand,\n The generall of all the Spanish power,\n Whence looking round ore seas, and sea-sieg\u2019d land,\n Holding her siluer trumpet in her hand,\n The same she sounded loud, whose echo shrill,\n With sound thereof the wide world\u2019s round did fill.\n\n 157.\n\n Then all th\u2019Iberian kings stout men of warre,\n Renown\u2019d for those replendent armes they bore,\n Marching beneath his ensignes heard from farre,\n Who vowing England spoil\u2019d of all her store,\n Should stoope her pride, and them outface no more;\n Made swift repaire in concourse and thick crow\u2019d,\n To Spaine\u2019s black fleet t\u2019effect what they had vow\u2019d.\n\n 158.\n\n[Sidenote: _Ferdinando Cortez._]\n\n The sun-burnt Spaniards from that Indian shore,\n Subdu\u2019d by _Ferdinandoe\u2019s_ bloodie hand,\n Where Perue\u2019s streames casts vp her golden ore,\n And Zenewe\u2019s waues bring to the slimie strand,\n Pure graines of gold amongst the ruddie sand,\n Like Cadmus bone-bred brood came thicke in swarmes,\n As newly borne from top to toe in armes.\n\n 159.\n\n The captiu\u2019d nations of the Castile king,\n Luxurious Naples and proud Lombardie,\n Their troopes in faire refulgent armes did bring,\n And those of Portugale and Scicilie,\n With slick-hair\u2019d youth of wanton Italie,\n T\u2019auenge faire England\u2019s foule supposed wrong,\n To Spaine\u2019s Armada in thicke troopes did throng.\n\n 160.\n\n Readie t\u2019imbarke vpon the shores they stood,\n Like flowers in spring, that beautifie the plaine,\n Or like May flies orewhelmed by the flood,\n As infinite, as leaues or drops of raine,\n Powr\u2019d from the heau\u2019ns vpon the liquid maine,\n That with their weight, dame Terrae\u2019s aged backe\n Beneath the sway of horse and foot did cracke.\n\n 161.\n\n And as blacke swarmes of ants with loaden thies,\n Hauing vpon the flowrie spring made pray,\n In number numberlesse with fresh supplies,\n Climbes some steepe hillock, and through all the day\n By thousands in thick flockes do fill the way;\n So Spaine\u2019s great host from trampled shores did wend,\n In thronging troopes, their mountaine ships t\u2019ascend.\n\n 162.\n\n And such a blustring as against the shore,\n When as the swelling seas the welkin braues,\n Or storme-driuen billowes on the bankes do rore,\n Or such a noise as in earth\u2019s hollow caues\n We often heare, when stormie Boreas raues:\n Such clamorous noise out of the tumult sprong,\n When they from shores vnto their ships did throng.\n\n 163.\n\n Hous\u2019d in their fleet, their ankors vp they weigh\u2019d,\n Hoisted their top-masts with their sailes on high,\n The misens then with winged winds displaid\n Before their hollow keeles, that low did lie\n Within the deepe, made parted billowes flie;\n Their huge big bulks made Neptune\u2019s back to bow,\n And waues to swell vpon his waterie brow.\n\n 164.\n\n Their towring heads, the heau\u2019ns blacke clouds did kisse,\n Borne by the winde-driuen stormie waues on high,\n Their hollow bosomes in the deepe abysse\n Amongst the surges of the fish-full skie,\n Like mightie rockes from sight did hidden lie,\n Whose brasse-arm\u2019d sides such compasse did containe,\n They seem\u2019d to couer acres on the maine.\n\n 165.\n\n Whoso had seene them on the gulphie flood,\n He would haue thought some Delos now againe,\n Some towne, some citie, or some desert wood,\n Or some new vnkowne world from shores of Spaine\n Launcht off to seas, had wandred on the maine,\n Peopled with those, that like quicke sprites in skie,\n By little hold-fast all about could flie.\n\n 166.\n\n[Sidenote: Musket shot could not pierce them. _Emanuel Van-Metran_, in\nhis 15 booke of his historie.]\n\n Each barke, whose bulke was proofe against the wound\n Of common shot, besides those buls of brasse,\n Whose bellowing rore did equall thunders sound,\n Of such great thicknesse and high building was,\n That like large towers they on the deepe did passe;\n For scarce could brazen cannons banefull thunder,\n With battering bullet beat their sides asunder.\n\n 167.\n\n Their vpper deckes, all trim\u2019d and garnisht out\n With sterne designes for bloodie warre at hand,\n With crimson fights were armed all about,\n And on the hatche many a goodly band\n Deckt in braue armes, together thicke did stand,\n Whose plume-deckt heads themselues aloft did show,\n And seem\u2019d to dance, with windes wau\u2019d to and fro.\n\n 168.\n\n With glittering shields their bosomes they did bar,\n Each one well brandishing his fatall blade,\n And from their bright habiliments of war,\n Such blazing shine, as in the gloomie shade,\n We often see by Ph\u0153bus beames displaid,\n A splendor vp into the aire did throw,\n And glittered on the glistning waues below.\n\n 169.\n\n Their top sailes, sprit sailes, and their misens all,\n Their crooked sternes, and tackle euery where\n Adorned were with pennons tragicall,\n Which in their silken reds did pictur\u2019d beare\n The sad ostents of death and dismall feare,\n Who while their keeles through seas did cut their way,\n In wanton wauing with the winde did play.\n\n 170.\n\n The clangor of shrill trumpes triumphant sound\n And clattering horror of their clashing armes,\n Vpon the bordering shores did so redound,\n That euen the deepe of their intended harmes\n On England\u2019s coasts did sound out thicke alarmes,\n Which strooke a terror to the heart of him\n Who then did border about Neptune\u2019s brim.\n\n 171.\n\n So great a fleet, since that same god so old,\n Grim-bearded Neptune bore the sea-gods name,\n The golden eye of heau\u2019n did nere behold,\n Nor Agamemnon\u2019s thousand ships, that came\n To sacke proud Troy, and all her towers enflame,\n Nor that Eoan monarche\u2019s fleet, that scar\u2019d\n The sonnes of Tyre, with this might be compar\u2019d\n\n 172.\n\n But while this mightie fleet did proudly boast\n Her matchlesse might on Neptune\u2019s high command,\n Braue _Parma_, lord of all th\u2019Iberian host,\n Both of the horse and foot, that came by land,\n Did troope them vp vpon the Belgicke strand,\n To whom th\u2019assistants of the Castile king,\n Their seuerall troopes of men did daily bring.\n\n 173.\n\n Beneath the bird of Ioue the prince of ayre,\n Which th\u2019house of Austria in their ensignes bore,\n The proud Burgundian marcht in armour faire,\n Th\u2019Italian, Germaine, Dutch, and many more\n Of other lands and language, who before\n Had often been renown\u2019d in many a fight,\n For their high valour, and approued might.\n\n 174.\n\n Such, and so mightie bands of famous men,\n Adorn\u2019d in richest armes of purest gold,\n Vpon those coasts before had neuer been,\n Nor any Belgian euer did behold\n Such martiall troopes vpon that trampled mold,\n So skill\u2019d in habit of all fights in warre,\n And for fights true direction past compare.\n\n 175.\n\n Both horse and foot of Spaine\u2019s impetuous might,\n And of the auxil\u2019arie bands, that came\n As mercenaries for the bloodie fight,\n Distinguisht vnder guides of speciall name,\n Whom hope of spoile did to this warre inflame,\n Drew towards the shores of Neptune there to meet\n And ioyne their forces with the nauall fleet.\n\n 176.\n\n Which being titled long before in Spaine,\n The fleet Inuincible by all consents,\n In all her pride now floted on the maine,\n Readie prepar\u2019d t\u2019effect those blacke euents,\n Presag\u2019d before by proud Spaine\u2019s sad ostents;\n Who by report through all the world had won\n The name of conquest ere the fight begun.\n\n 177.\n\n The threatfull subiects of the Castile king,\n In this huge fleet did such firme hope repose,\n That all their sun-burnt brats they taught to sing,\n Triumph and conquest, which they did suppose\n Their very threats would purchase gainst their foes,\n Who like braue lords, their valour to renowne,\n Did cast the dice for faire _Elizae\u2019s_ crowne.\n\n 178.\n\n Much like the vanting French, when _Iohn_ of France\n In Poyctiers battell with his mightie host,\n Not pondering in his mind warres doubtfull chance,\n The gotten victorie did vainely boast,\n Before that either part had won or lost,\n Where braue prince _Edward_ with his troope so small,\n Renown\u2019d his sword with _Iohn_ of France\u2019 his fall.\n\n 179.\n\n Euen so this brauing fleet, whose dreaded name,\n Ineuitable ruine did foretell,\n Thought, that the faire _Eliza_, who did frame\n Her life in happie daies of peace to dwell,\n Vnfurnisht was such forces to repell,\n And therefore sent as from king _Philip\u2019s_ hand,\n A sterne inscription with this proud command:\n\n 180.\n\n[Sidenote: This was sent written in Latin.]\n\n \u201cWith auxil\u2019arie bands she should no more\n Vphold the Belgian gainst king _Philip\u2019s_ frowne,\n All Spanish prizes back againe restore,\n Build vp religious houses beaten downe,\n And vnto Rome subiect her selfe and crowne;\n All which to do, if that she did withstand,\n Her imminent blacke end was now at hand.\u201d\n\n 181.\n\n The noble queene, who in her royall hand\n Did beare the state and stay of Britanie,\n In deepe contempt of such a basse command,\n With spirit of princely magnanimitie,\n Did briefely answere this proud ambasie:\n For in prouerbiall words her answere was,\n \u201c_Ist h\u00e6c ad Gr\u00e6ceas fient mandata Kalendas._\u201d\n\n 182.\n\n An answere worthie, for the grace it bore,\n The virgin spring of old _Plantagenet_,\n Who from the foes to shield her natiue shore,\n Her subiects hearts for fight on fire did set,\n And their bold stomackes did with courage whet,\n Who fir\u2019d with loue of their _Elizae\u2019s_ good,\n In her defence did thirst to spend their blood.\n\n 183.\n\n For when for certaine, fame th\u2019intended harmes\n Of Spaine\u2019s blacke fleet to England\u2019s shores did bring,\n How gladly did her people flocke to armes,\n And when the trumpe warre\u2019s scathfull song did sing,\n About their eares how pleasing did it ring?\n Whose hearts with furie fed, to battell giuen,\n With braue conceits did leape as high as heau\u2019n.\n\n 184.\n\n All townes did ring with sudden cri\u2019d alarmes,\n Whence with loud clamour to the marine shore,\n The armed people clustred in thicke swarmes,\n Where red-ey\u2019d Eris warre\u2019s blacke ensigne bore,\n And mongst their troops did sprinkle blood and gore;\n Stirring them vp with eager minds to wade\n Through seas of blood, the aduerse fleet t\u2019inuade.\n\n 185.\n\n And as the golden swarmes of black-backt bees,\n Their thighes full loaden from the flowrie field,\n With humming noise flie to the hollow trees,\n Where they with busie paine fit shelter build,\n Their treasure and themselues from harme to shield;\n So thicke in armes, th\u2019alarum once begun,\n Vnto their ships with shouting they did run:\n\n 186.\n\n Where with their mutuall strengths they did assay,\n To hale _Elizae\u2019s_ fleet from off the shore,\n Some pumpt, some cleans\u2019d, some drew the stockes away,\n Some hoist the top-masts, some great burthens bore,\n The nauie\u2019s want with furniture to store:\n And with their vtmost diligence all wrought,\n Till to perfection they their worke had brought.\n\n 187.\n\n Which from the shores, once launcht into the maine,\n Not all the world a fairer fleet could show:\n For though in hugenesse, that black fleet of Spaine\n Did farre surpasse; yet was it farre more slow\n In nimble stirrage wafting to and fro:\n For England\u2019s fleet through seas swift passage won\n With gentle gale, though th\u2019ocean smooth did run.\n\n 188.\n\n To shun their foes, each like a nimble hinde\n In Neptune\u2019s forrest, on the watrie greene,\n Haue skipt from waue to waue, and with the winde,\n When they list turne againe; they haue been seene\n Like raging lions in their heate of spleene,\n Flie on the Castile fleet to bring them vnder,\n And with fell rore to teare their sides in sunder.\n\n 189.\n\n All readie furnisht wafting to and fro,\n Ouer the narrow seas deepe sandie beds,\n They 'bout the coasts themselues did daily show,\n In th\u2019huffing winds wauing their silken reds,\n And crimson crosses on their loftie heads:\n Those ancient badges, through the world renown\u2019d,\n Which with high conquest fortune oft hath crown\u2019d.\n\n 190.\n\n Their braue demeanor did so much delight\n The people, that beheld them on the maine,\n That many more all readie for the fight,\n Did make repaire, t\u2019oppugne the fleet of Spaine;\n Then all that royall nauie could containe:\n Such feruent loue vnto their soueraigne\u2019s name,\n With fierie courage did their hearts enflame.\n\n 191.\n\n Those stout sea-searchers of the stormie flood,\n The sonnes of Nereus broad sea-sayling race,\n And the braue offspring of Prometheus brood,\n That with loud thunder-claps their foe-men chace,\n Who in _Elizae\u2019s_ royall fleet had place,\n Made solemne vowes, backe to returne no more,\n Except with conquest to their natiue shore.\n\n 192.\n\n[Sidenote: Now Earle of Nottingham.]\n\n Mongst whom the noblest obiect of them all,\n That in the fleete did hold supreamest sway\n Went honor\u2019d _Howard_, as chiefe admirall,\n Who by his stout demeanor did assay,\n With courage bold to lead them on the way,\n And euery heart did fill with hautie spirit,\n By glorious deeds immortall fame to merit.\n\n 193.\n\n Vpon th\u2019Eolian gods supportfull wings,\n With chearefull shouts, they parted from the shore,\n While heau\u2019n and earth and all the ocean rings\n With sounds, which on her wings loud echo bore,\n Of trumpets, drums, shrill fifes and cannons rore,\n To which the people\u2019s shouts on shores fast by,\n Reecho\u2019d in the rockes with loud replie.\n\n 194.\n\n While they aboord at sea, so heere at home\n T\u2019auert all harmes, all subiects did prepare,\n In mightie tumult to the murmuring drumme,\n The multitude did make repaire from farre,\n To trie their valour in th\u2019approching warre\n Thirsting to meete their foes on equall ground,\n All hoping in their fall to be renown\u2019d.\n\n 195.\n\n With ornaments of warre, the earth did flow,\n Glazing the skies with armes resplendent light,\n And euery place in aire, shot vp did show\n The blood-red crosse, which did conduct to fight\n Many faire bands, all men of powerfull might;\n For both of horse and foot, from euery shiere,\n Thicke squadrons daily did in field appeare.\n\n 196.\n\n Th\u2019appointed place of generall meeting was\n In Essex, on the coast at Tilburie,\n To which the people in such troopes did passe,\n That with their traine the shores they multiplie\n Like Palamedes birds that forme the Y,\n When cloud-like in thicke flockes their flight they take\n Ore Thracian woods, to Strymon\u2019s seuen-fold lake.\n\n 197.\n\n There pight they downe their tents t\u2019oppose all harmes,\n Set vp the royall standards all about,\n The faire supporters of _Elizae\u2019s_ armes,\n The rampant lion, and the dragon stout,\n And th\u2019ensigne of Saint George, which many a rout\n Of Mars his noble race with conquering hand\n Hath famous made, in many a forren land.\n\n 198.\n\n Vnder whose colours like a leauie wood,\n The host in seuerall bands digested all\n Inrankt about with shot and pike-men stood,\n As firme for battell, as a brazen wall,\n Who to the workes of death did thirst to fall,\n Inflam\u2019d in heart with burning fire to fight\n For England\u2019s virgin, and their countrie\u2019s right.\n\n 199.\n\n Well did each horse-man teach his horse to run,\n To stoope, to stop, to turne, to breake the field,\n Well each bold musketier did vse his gun,\n Each launceer well his weightie launce did wield,\n Each drew his sword and well addrest his shield,\n Teaching each other by this braue array,\n How on their foes they best might giue th\u2019assay.\n\n 200.\n\n The sound of fifes, of drums, and trumpets shrill,\n And mutuall exhortations for the warre,\n All fainting hearts with manly sprite did fill,\n And th\u2019armed horse, that smell the fight from farre,\n Inraged that the curbing bit should barre\n Their forwardnesse, with neighing loud did crie\n For present combat gainst the enemie.\n\n 201.\n\n[Sidenote: Earle of Leicester.]\n\n Thus in the field the royall host did stand,\n None fainting vnder base timiditie,\n But readie bent to vse their running hand\n Against the force of forren enemie,\n If they should chance t\u2019arriue at Tilburie:\n Mongst whom great _Dudlie_ bore supreamest sway,\n Against their foes to lead them on the way.\n\n 202.\n\n[Sidenote: _Rich. Hakluit_, and _Stow_ in his Annals.]\n\n And as the daughter of the mightie Ioue,\n When from the browes of heau\u2019n she takes her flight\n Downe to those sonnes of Mars, whom she doth loue,\n In her celestiall armes with glorie dight,\n To bring them dreadlesse to th\u2019approching fight;\n So England\u2019s empresse, that vndaunted dame,\n Vnto the campe in glorious triumph came.\n\n 203.\n\n Like noble Tomyris, that queene of Thrace,\n Deckt in rich vestiments of shining gold,\n Vpon a snow-white steed of stately pace,\n Mounted aloft she sate, with courage bold,\n And in her hand a martial staffe did hold,\n Riding from ranke to ranke, and troope to troope,\n To whom with reuerence all the host did stoope.\n\n 204.\n\n Her comely gesture, and her angel\u2019s face,\n The lodge of pleasure, and of sweet delight,\n Did make the souldiers thinke some heauenly grace\n Had left Olympus, and with powerfull might\n Had come from Ioue, to cheare them vp for fight,\n Her presence did with such high spirit inspire\n Their manly brests, and set their hearts on fire.\n\n 205.\n\n And as _Bunduca_, that bold Britaine dame,\n When ore this land proud Rome did tyrannize,\n Her Britaine\u2019s heart with courage to enflame,\n Amidst their troopes all arm\u2019d in seemely wise,\n Did Pallas-like a pythie speech deuise:\n So our faire queene, bold spirit to infuse\n Through all the host, these princely words did vse:\n\n 206.\n\n \u201cCaptaines and souldiers, men of worthie fame,\n And most admitted to our princely loue,\n Thinke, what it is, to win a souldier\u2019s name,\n And fight the battels of the mightie Ioue,\n With safe protection from his power aboue,\n Faint thoughts from your stout hearts be farre expell\u2019d,\n And feare of foes with courage bold be quell\u2019d.\n\n 207.\n\n If that the foe dare set his foot on land,\n We with the best all danger will out dare,\n And step by step with you in person stand,\n To be a partner with you, in that share,\n Which God shall giue vs, be it foule or faire:\n Then by my side like loyall subiects stand,\n And Ioue assist vs with his powerfull hand.\u201d\n\n 208.\n\n This said from ranke to ranke, she rode about,\n Enabling their endeuours for the fight,\n And with sweet words from their bold brests blew out\n All fainting spirit, and did their hearts excite\n With ready hands, to vse their vtmost might:\n Which royall gesture of so faire a queene,\n Would haue inspir\u2019d a coward\u2019s heart with spleene.\n\n 209.\n\n Thus hauing chear\u2019d the common soulderie,\n The cloudie euen began to shut vp day:\n Wherefore she backe return\u2019d from Tilburie,\n And towards that martiall field did take her way,\n Where as that other royall armie lay,\n In which did march the nobles of the land,\n In rich array, each with his seuerall band.\n\n 210.\n\n Troopt vp there were in that same strong-arm\u2019d host,\n Fortie three thousand perfect in the frame\n Of euery fight, who of that time may boast,\n And craue inscription in the booke of fame,\n T\u2019haue been the guard of so diuine a dame,\n Who for her person only chosen were,\n Martiall\u2019d by _Hunsdon_ that true hearted peere.\n\n 211.\n\n[Sidenote: _M. Thomas Flemming._]\n\n But while the noble queene her selfe appli\u2019d\n T\u2019oppugne the foe, that should her state assaile,\n Loe, from the Groyne the blacke fleet was descri\u2019d,\n Who now befriended with a gentle gale,\n For England\u2019s rockie bounds did make full saile,\n Of whom hight captaine _Flemming_ first had sight,\n And fled before them with industrious flight.\n\n 212.\n\n At Plimmouth port where th\u2019English fleet did lie,\n He with full saile came in, and cri\u2019d amaine:\n \u201cWeigh vp your ankors, hoise your sailes on high;\n For like _Ortigian Delos_ on the maine,\n Behold, th\u2019Iberian fleet from shores of Spaine\n Comes hard at hand, and threatens our decay;\n Then arme, aboord with speed, make no delay.\u201d\n\n 213.\n\n This said, confusedly the souldiers ran\n To ships from shore, earth flew about their feet,\n Then weigh\u2019d they vp their ankors, and each man\n Put to his helping hand, to bring their fleet\n Into the seas, the aduerse foes to meet,\n And though the froward winds did them withstand,\n They warped out their ships by force of hand.\n\n 214.\n\n Then might they see from farre vpon the maine,\n Like a blacke wood approching more and more,\n Their foe-men\u2019s tragicke fleet, which in disdaine\n With sound of trumpets, drums, and cannons rore,\n Came proudly thundring by the rockie shore,\n And with amazement th\u2019English to affright,\n Their souldiers with loud shouts the heau\u2019ns did smite.\n\n 215.\n\n[Sidenote: _Stow_ in his Ann. p. 1249.]\n\n They sayling came in order for the fight,\n In such a forme on Thetis siluer brest,\n As bright-cheekt Cinthia shewes in darkest night,\n When stretching out her hornes into the east,\n She shewes but halfe her face, and hides the rest,\n Which made a crescent moone vpon the maine,\n Whose hornes eight miles in compasse did containe.\n\n 216.\n\n The royall English fleet, which did behold\n The martiall order of their nauall traine,\n Came sayling forward, and with courage bold,\n For England\u2019s queene did waue their fleet amaine,\n Who in contempt soone waued them againe,\n Whereby defiance with vndaunted pride,\n By cannons cuffe was giuen from either side.\n\n 217.\n\n Then bloodie Ennyon thundring out aloud,\n Made each one thirst in fight his foe t\u2019offend,\n And as fierce fire wrapt vp in dampish cloud,\n With violent force the sides thereof doth rend,\n And with pale lightning thunder downe doth send;\n So England\u2019s warlike fleet wing\u2019d with swift gale,\n Broke through the waues th\u2019Iberians to assaile.\n\n 218.\n\n[Sidenote: The first fight before Plimmouth.]\n\n The drums did beat, the trumpets shrill did sound,\n Each aduerse force began the furious fight;\n Then in the aire the fierce claps did redound\n Of cannons hidious rore, and with affright,\n Fire flashing leapt about and maz\u2019d their sight;\n And thus in furie did the fight begin\n With darknesse, horror, death and dreadfull din.\n\n 219.\n\n The seas did boile, the buxome aire did swell,\n A cloake of clouds did ouercast the skie,\n The echoing rockes the fight farre off did tell,\n The bullets thicke as haile from clouds on high,\n From either side in gloomie smoake did flie,\n And pale-fac\u2019d death vnseene of all the throng,\n Aboue their heads in thicke fumes houering hung.\n\n 220.\n\n The fight grew fell, and of disaster haps\n In each blacke barke reports loud trumpet sings,\n While heau\u2019n records the cannons roring claps,\n And the darke aire with grumbling murmurings\n Of whistling bullets, borne on fiery wings,\n Whose horrid thunder drown\u2019d the volleies hot\n And lesser noise of many a thousand shot.\n\n 221.\n\n Oft did the English with the winde and weather,\n Charge on their foe-men\u2019s ships with hot assay,\n Who for their safegard bound round vp together,\n Pluckt in their hornes and in a roundell lay,\n While on their sides the cannon still did play,\n Not daring fight, except to rescue those,\n That beaten were by their bold Britaine foes.\n\n 222.\n\n[Sidenote: Lord _Thomas Howard_ now Earle of Suffolke.]\n\n Both the bold _Howards_ and lord _Sheffield_ hight,\n With _Hawkins_, _Frobisher_, and famous _Drake_,\n Braue _Barker_, _Crosse_, and _Southwell_ that stout knight,\n There, where the foes the fight most hot did make,\n Through danger, dread and death their way did take,\n And gainst their foes did fierie vengeance spit,\n Which did their barks great bulkes in sunder split.\n\n 223.\n\n They brake into the midst of Spaine\u2019s blacke fleet,\n Opposing dreadfull death to win renowne,\n As when in skies the earth-bred brothers meet,\n When Boreas flying about with stormie frowne,\n Doth cuff the clouds, and brings his brothers downe;\n For with high spirit, heau\u2019n did their hearts inspire,\n T\u2019assaile the foes and burne their fleet with fire.\n\n 224.\n\n Renowned _Howard_, England\u2019s admirall,\n Longing to see the Castile king\u2019s disgrace,\n Their stoutest hearts with terror did appall,\n Who meeting with his foe-men face to face,\n Vnto his furie made them all giue place,\n Breaking so farre into the fleet alone,\n That from the aduerse foes he scarce was knowne.\n\n 225.\n\n Wherein the midst of danger vncontrol\u2019d,\n Vpon the vpper decke he stood on high,\n From whence, when as from far he did behold\n One of his captaines, who did wafting lie\n Without the danger of the enemie,\n Out of a cloud of smoake he loud did call,\n Aboue his head wauing his sword withall.\n\n 226.\n\n[Sidenote: M. _George Fenner_, This was in the second fight before\nPortland. _Rich. Hak._ in the end of his 1. volume.]\n\n \u201cO _George_,\u201d quoth he, \u201cwhy dost thou shun the presse?\n Report renownes thy name for valiancie:\n Then leaue me not alone in this distresse;\n But with vndaunted spirit follow me\n To gaine the palme of glorious victorie;\n So shall that hope, which I conceiue of thee,\n In this daie\u2019s bloodie fight not frustrate bee.\u201d\n\n 227.\n\n The captaine heard, and like a stormie puffe,\n That stoopes from clouds and beats the billowes vnder,\n He brake into the fight with cannons cuffe,\n And came in height of spirit importing wonder\n In clouds of smoake, in fierie flames and thunder,\n With whom did many others giue th\u2019assay,\n And through Spaine\u2019s fleet did furrow vp their way.\n\n 228.\n\n The foes turn\u2019d head, and made a violent stand,\n Both parts stood bent each other to confound;\n The cannons thicke discharg\u2019d on either hand\n Wrapt clouds in clouds of smoake, which did abound,\n And hurl\u2019d their horrid thunder forth to wound;\n But fortune on the foes in fight did frowne,\n And in her ballance, Spaine\u2019s hard lot sunke downe.\n\n 229.\n\n With fruits of death the fruitlesse waues did flow,\n The seas did blush with blood, the ayrie skie\n Did swell with grones, and wandring to and fro,\n In clouds of smoake the grudging soules did flie\n Of slaughtred bodies, that did floting lie\n About the ocean, seeking for their tombes\n In hollow rockes and monsters hungrie wombes.\n\n 230.\n\n[Sidenote: This happened in the third conflict before the Ile of Wight.\nIt was fired by a shot.]\n\n And in the fight, t\u2019increase the foe-men\u2019s harmes,\n A ruddie flame from th\u2019English fleet did flie,\n Which swiftly seased in his spoilefull armes\n The stout viceadmirall of th\u2019enemie,\n Who proudly bore her loftie head on high,\n And with the violence of his shamefull flashes,\n Did quickly burne her vpper workes to ashes.\n\n 231.\n\n A golden bonfire on the siluer waues\n Did flote about, whose flame did reach the skies,\n While the poore Spaniard and his captiue slaues,\n Seeing their tragicke fall before their eies,\n Amidst the fire in vaine shriekt out shrill cries;\n For th\u2019horrid fire all mercilesse did choake\n The scorched wretches with infestiue smoake.\n\n 232.\n\n Many tall ships, that did in greatnesse passe\n The greatest of our fleet, did fall in fight,\n Mongst whom, that faire galeon surprised was,\n In which renowned _Valdes_, that stout knight,\n With other captaines of approued might,\n Did yeeld themselues and all their golden treasure\n To noble _Drake_, to be at his good pleasure.\n\n 233.\n\n Three famous conflicts, in three seuerall daies,\n _Elizae\u2019s_ hardie captaines did maintaine,\n And by their valour won eternall praise,\n Oft turning into flight the fleet of Spaine,\n With dreadfull fire, and cannon\u2019s deadly bane,\n Who now t\u2019effect what they did vainely boast\n Houer\u2019d twixt Calice and the English coast.\n\n 234.\n\n There cast they ankor, and conuei\u2019d with speed\n Swift notice to the prince of Parma hight,\n Who thither should repaire, as was decreed,\n And while each aduerse fleet stood hot in fight,\n For England he should passe with all his might,\n For which intent he had prepar\u2019d before,\n Foure hundred ships vpon the Belgicke shore.\n\n 235.\n\n But noble _Seimer_ in the foe-men\u2019s sight,\n With _Iustin_ of Nassau, that Belgian bold,\n And worthie _Winter_, that vndaunted knight,\n With their tall ships on th\u2019ocean vncontrol\u2019d,\n About the Belgicke strand strong gard did hold,\n Whose proud afront the foes did daunt so sore,\n That not a ship durst launch from off the shore.\n\n 236.\n\n[Sidenote: _Allen_ was made Cardinall for that purpose.]\n\n Yet the stout prince of Parma fondly led\n With hope, that _Allen_, that false fugitiue,\n Sent from proud _Sixtus_ to adorne his head\n With faire _Elizae\u2019s_ crowne, in vaine did striue\n With all his power, his purpose to atchieue;\n And vnto Dunkirk came with all his force,\n To put in practise his intended course.\n\n 237.\n\n Meane time the fleet, that did expect his aide,\n Before French Calice did at ankor lie,\n And now the chearefull day began to vade,\n And Vulcan\u2019s louely Venus mounting high,\n Appear\u2019d for euening starre in easterne skie,\n Whereby both aduerse fleets did cease from fight,\n And rendred place vnto th\u2019approching night.\n\n 238.\n\n But when soft sleepe, the carelesse thoughts did bind\n Of others, that secure in cabbins lay,\n Each English leader in his labouring mind\n Did fashion counsels, how to giue th\u2019assay,\n And driue from thence their foe-men\u2019s fleet away,\n Who there did purpose by the shore to lie,\n That from the prince they might haue fresh supplie.\n\n 239.\n\n Amongst themselues our captaines did agree,\n That eight small ships with artificiall fire,\n Amidst the Spanish fleet should driuen bee\n In dead of night, to execute their ire\n Vpon the foes, that did sweet sleepe desire:\n Which dreadfull stratagem against the foe,\n Stout _Yong_ and valiant _Prowse_ did vndergoe.\n\n 240.\n\n The time came on, the drowzie night did frowne,\n Who clasping th\u2019earth\u2019s wide bounds with sable wings,\n Vpon the seas did powre grim darknesse downe,\n While sleepe, that vnto care sweet comfort brings,\n In quiet slumber, husht all watchfull things;\n And then the ships all fir\u2019d for the euent,\n Amongst the foes with winde and tide were sent.\n\n 241.\n\n Through foggie clouds of night\u2019s Cymmerian blacke,\n A glimmering light the watch did first espie,\n Which drifting fast vpon the sea-god\u2019s backe,\n And to the Spanish fleete approching nigh,\n Burst out in flames into the darkesome skie,\n Glazing the heau\u2019ns and chasing gloomie night,\n From off the seas with admirable light.\n\n 242.\n\n A sudden puffe with force of powder driuen,\n Oft blew vp sulphuric flames, in aire on high,\n From whence, as if that starres did drop from heau\u2019n,\n The liuely sparkes on wings of winde did flie,\n Threatning confusion to the enemie;\n Who startled from their sleepe, shriekt out th\u2019alarme\n To euery ship, to shun such dismall harme.\n\n 243.\n\n Th\u2019Iberians drown\u2019d before in sweet repose,\n With feare affrighted from their naked rest,\n Their eye-lids wanting weight one winke to close,\n Beheld the fire on Neptune\u2019s burning brest,\n Which trembling horror in their hearts imprest;\n For floting towards them with fearefull flashes,\n It threatned sore to burne their ships to ashes.\n\n 244.\n\n Then with disorder euery one did cut\n Their blacke pitch\u2019d cables, hoysing sailes with speed,\n And from the shore to the maine seas did put,\n In hope from present danger to be freed,\n That did such terror in their bosomes breed,\n While on the waues the burning ships bright light,\n Did make a sun-shine in the midst of night.\n\n 245.\n\n Who being disperst amongst their nauie came,\n And like fire-spitting monsters on the maine,\n In sable clouds of smoake and threatning flame,\n Did fiercely bellow out their deadly bane;\n Which horror th\u2019English nauie did maintaine,\n Discharging all their thundring shot together\n Vpon th\u2019Iberian foes with winde and weather.\n\n 246.\n\n The horrid noise amaz\u2019d the silent night,\n Repowring downe blacke darknesse from the skie,\n Through which th\u2019affrighted Spaniard with blind flight,\n His friends from foes not able to descrie,\n Vpon the darkesome waues did scattered flie;\n In which disturbance driuen with winde and weather,\n Spaine\u2019s chiefe galiasse fell foule vpon another.\n\n 247.\n\n Which all vnable to escape with flight,\n The startled fleet did leaue alone forlorne,\n Keeping aloofe at sea, all that sad night;\n But when from th\u2019east the opall-coloured morne\n With golden light the ocean did adorne,\n The English fleet Spaine\u2019s great galliasse did spie,\n Which cast vpon a sandie shoale did lie.\n\n 248.\n\n Whom captaine _Preston_ valiantly did bord,\n Sent from the fleet in his long boat well man\u2019d,\n Which with an hundred hardie men was stor\u2019d,\n Who to the face of death oppos\u2019d did stand,\n About the ship vsing their readie hand,\n Gainst whoso assault at first th\u2019Iberian foes,\n With proud resistance did themselues oppose.\n\n 249.\n\n For _Hugo de Moncada_, valiant man\n With noble courage did the fight maintaine,\n Till through his wounded forehead\u2019s hardned pan,\n A fatall shot with bullets deadly bane,\n Made open passage to the liuely braine,\n Who being slaine, to shun the slaughtering sword,\n Most of the residue leapt ouer bord.\n\n 250.\n\n Thus great king _Philip\u2019s_ mountaine-like galliasse,\n In which three hundred slaues lug\u2019d at the oare,\n And twice two hundred armed men did passe,\n Was soone despoil\u2019d of all her golden store\n By a small band of men on Calice shore,\n Which fiftie thousand duckets did containe,\n Of the rich treasure of the king of Spaine.\n\n 251.\n\n Meane time the blacke fleet floting on the maine,\n The night before disperst with foule affright,\n In hope her former purpose to obtaine,\n Return\u2019d againe from base inglorious flight,\n Arang\u2019d in order for the nauall fight,\n Which in diuided squadrons th\u2019English fleet,\n With hot incounter furiously did meet.\n\n 252.\n\n[Sidenote: This conflict being the fourth and last, was before\nGreueling.]\n\n Who bound vp round together in a ring,\n Lay close in their defence against their foe;\n But as the southerne blasts in budding spring,\n When Auster\u2019s swelling cheekes do ouerflow\n In handfuls thicke the blossomes downe to blow;\n So thicke and dreadfully did slaughter flie\n From th\u2019English fleet amongst the enemie.\n\n 253.\n\n Then had th\u2019Iberians dread, their pride did bow,\n Their foes by valour brake their nauall round,\n And as a torrent from an hil\u2019s steepe brow,\n Clad in fresh showers and thunder\u2019s fearefull sound,\n Beares all before it in the plaine land ground;\n So did they beat from off their natiue bounds,\n Spain\u2019s mighty fleet with cannons scathful wounds.\n\n 254.\n\n And where the skirmish was propos\u2019d most hot,\n Their valiant _Drake_ did breake into the fight,\n And though his ship were pierc\u2019d with wounding shot\n Twice twentie times; yet with vndaunted might\n He horriblie did plie their sudden fright,\n And with wide wounds the hollow keeles did batter\n Of three tall ships betwixt the winde and water.\n\n 255.\n\n Then in despaire with hands and weeping eies,\n To heau\u2019n the wretches prai\u2019d for their escape,\n And to some saint of heau\u2019n with open cries,\n Each one in blind deuotion prayers did shape;\n But all in vaine, the gulfie flood did gape,\n And in the deepe of his deuouring wombe,\n Both men and ships did suddenly intombe.\n\n 256.\n\n The rest all daunted with such vncouth sight,\n From spoile to saue their fleet no time did spare,\n But hoysing saile betooke themselues to flight,\n Cursing sterne fate, that brought their fleet so farre,\n To be despoil\u2019d in such successelesse warre;\n And after all their boasting backe recoile,\n With emptie hands vnto their natiue soyle.\n\n 257.\n\n They heartlesse fled, but in their hastie flight,\n Two great galeons of captiu\u2019d Portugale,\n The huge Saint _Philip_, and Saint _Matthew_ hight,\n Great _Seymer_ and stout _Winter_ did so gall\n With wounding cuffe of cannons fierie ball,\n That on the Belgian coast by friends forsaken,\n They with their captaines by their foes were taken.\n\n 258.\n\n Meane time the English with full saile did plie\n The manage of the foes inglorious flight,\n And as high stomack\u2019d hounds, that with full crie\n Pursue the fearefull game, do take delight\n To pinch the haunch behind with eager bite;\n So did _Elizae\u2019s_ fleet pursue the foes\n With shouts of men, and bullets banefull blowes.\n\n 259.\n\n They all array\u2019d in warre\u2019s vermillion,\n Did chace them to those seas of stormes and thunder,\n Ouer whose waues in heau\u2019ns pauillion,\n Amongst those many golden workes of wonder,\n A dragon keepes two wrathfull beares asunder,\n And there they left them, in those seas to drowne,\n Returning backe with conquest and renowne.\n\n 260.\n\n They gone, the wretched foes in wofull case\n Helplesse, perceiuing by sterne fortune\u2019s doome,\n Their action ended in extreame disgrace,\n And in fame\u2019s stead, for which they forth did come,\n Finding but wounds to cure when they came home,\n Did curse the ordinance of mightie Ioue,\n Gainst whom with their huge strength in vaine they stroue.\n\n 261.\n\n But while at sea, all were to labour giuen,\n Securely rigging vp their crazed ships,\n Al-seeing Ioue did worke their banes in heau\u2019n;\n For in an instant from his heau\u2019nly lips,\n From pole to pole a winged message skips,\n And posting round about the earth\u2019s great ball,\n From th\u2019house of stormes th\u2019Eolian slaues did call.\n\n 262.\n\n Then furious Auster, Ioue\u2019s command once giuen;\n With Eurus, Zephirus, and Boreas ruffe,\n Stoopt from the cloudie corners of the heau\u2019n\n Vpon those seas, and with a violent puffe,\n The tumbling billowes all on heapes did cuffe;\n And raving gainst the rockes with hidious rore,\n Wrapt waues in waues, and hurl\u2019d them on the shore.\n\n 263.\n\n Meane while night\u2019s curtaines steept in Stygian blacke,\n The crystall battlements of heau\u2019n did hide;\n Then Ioue did thunder, and the heau\u2019ns did cracke,\n Pale lightning leapt about on euery side,\n The clouds inconstant flood-gates opened wide,\n And nought, but mists, haile, raine, dark stormes and thunder,\n Did fall from heau\u2019n vpon the salt seas vnder.\n\n 264.\n\n The white froth-foaming flood began to raue,\n And enter combate with the fleet of Spaine,\n Hurring it head-long on the mountaine-waue,\n Now from the shores into the roring maine,\n And now from thence vnto the shores againe,\n While all the stoutest sea-men quake and quiuer.\n Lest winde-driuen waues their ships in sunder shiuer.\n\n 265.\n\n \u201cHeere strike, strike, sirs, the top mast:\u201d one doth crie,\n Another saies: \u201cVale misene and sprit saile:\u201d\n And heere a third bids: \u201cLet the maine sheate flie:\u201d\n All fall to worke themselves from death to baile,\n Some cut the saile-cloaths, some againe do haile\n The saile yards downe, while others pumpe with paine,\n Sending the seas into the seas againe.\n\n 266.\n\n Heere one vp lifted on a mountaine steepe,\n By dreadfull flashing of heau\u2019ns lightning bright,\n With pallid feare lookes downe vpon the deepe\n Into a pit, as deepe and blacke in sight,\n As Tartarus the lothsome brood of night,\n In whose wide gulfie mouth he thinkes to drowne,\n Seeing the ship all topsie turning downe:\n\n 267.\n\n Another heere in sandie shoale doth lie,\n With mountaine waues on all sides walled round,\n And seemes from hell to see the loftie skie,\n Looking, when wallowing waues with windie bound,\n In that deepe pit the vessell would confound,\n Till with the lustie waue, the mounting ship\n From thence to heau\u2019n doth in a moment skip.\n\n 268.\n\n The poore sad sailers beaten out of breath\n With toilesome paine, and with long watching worne,\n Through feare, the feeble consort of cold death,\n Not knowing, alas, which way themselues to turne,\n With wofull cries their fatall fall did mourne,\n And cast their eyes to heau\u2019n, where, what was seene,\n Was blacke as hell, as if no heau\u2019n had been.\n\n 269.\n\n Heere the greene billowes bounding gainst a ship,\n Vncaukes the keele, and with continuall waste,\n Washing the pitch away, the seames vnrip,\n While th\u2019angrie tempest, with a boistrous blast,\n Beares the false stem away, springs the maine mast,\n And breaking downe the decke, doth passage win\n For the next surging sea to enter in.\n\n 270.\n\n Then all amaz\u2019d shriekes out confused cries,\n While the seas rote doth ring their dolefull knell,\n Some call to heau\u2019n for helpe with weeping eies,\n Some moane themselues, some bid their friends farewell,\n Some idols-like in horrors senselesse dwell,\n Heere in sad silence one his faint heart showes,\n Another there doth thus his feare disclose:\n\n 271.\n\n \u201cThrice happie they, whose hap it was in fight\n Against the foes to fall, when others stood:\n Ye conquering English, causers of our flight,\n Why were your swords not bath\u2019d in my deare blood;\n And why did I not perish in the flood?\n Where braue _Moncada_ di\u2019d with many more,\n Whose bodies now do swim about the shore.\u201d\n\n 272.\n\n This said, a waue, that neuer brake asunder,\n But mounting vp, as if with loftie frowne\n It view\u2019d the working of the waters vnder,\n Came like a ruin\u2019d mountaine falling downe,\n And with his weight the wretched ship did drowne,\n Which sinking, in the gulfe, did seeke her graue\n And neuer more appear\u2019d aboue the waue.\n\n 273.\n\n Many more ships did perish in the deepe,\n Some downe from top of waues to sandie ground,\n All rent and torne the angrie surge did sweepe,\n Some the winde-turned water whirling round,\n In the blacke whirle-poole helplesse did confound,\n And some with boystrous billowes bruz\u2019d and battred,\n In sunder split, aboue the waues were scattred.\n\n 274.\n\n The other ships, that huge of building were,\n Whose bulkes the billow could not beat asunder,\n And whom the furious storme perforce did beare\n Amongst the raging seas, now vp, now vnder,\n Though through the waues, they wrought it out with wonder,\n Yet many gainst the rockes the surge did beare,\n And with the fruitlesse sands some couered were.\n\n 275.\n\n Heere fiue at once round set with surging waters,\n Sticke fast in quick-sands, sinking more and more,\n There fiue againe the furious billow batters,\n Being hurried head-long with the south-west blore,\n In thousand pieces gainst great Albion\u2019s shore,\n Whereby the fruitlesse waues tost to and fro,\n With fruits of ship-wracke euery where did flow.\n\n 276.\n\n Here one fast holding by the broken shiuers\n Of some wrackt ship, to heau\u2019n lifts vp his eies,\n There drifting on the mast, one quakes and quiuers,\n Another heere his outstretcht armes applies\n By slight of swimming on the waues to rise;\n But all in vaine, the billowes breake in sunder\n Aboue their heads, and beate their bodies vnder.\n\n 277.\n\n Heere with sustentiue palmes themselues to saue,\n Two crawling vp a cliffe, one backe is borne\n By the next surge in seas to seeke his graue,\n The other by the billow rent and torne\n Vpon the ragged rocke, is left forlorne,\n Where in his luke-warme blood he sprawling lies,\n And th\u2019haplesse food of hungrie fowles he dies.\n\n 278.\n\n The rest, that did the Irish coast obtaine,\n And had escap\u2019d the furie of the flood,\n By those wilde people wofully were slaine,\n The Irish swift of feete, and flesht in blood,\n Who thicke vpon the shore together stood\n With deadly darts, to strike each foe-man dead;\n That 'boue the waue did beare his fainting head.\n\n 279.\n\n Great Ioue\u2019s command, perform\u2019d vpon the foes,\n Th\u2019Eolian king call\u2019d home his windes againe;\n Then ceast the storme; then did the seas disclose\n The armes, the painted robes, and spoiles of Spaine,\n Which heere and there did flote vpon the maine,\n By England, Ireland, Norway, Normandie,\n Where Ioue did act their fleet\u2019s blacke tragedie.\n\n 280.\n\n For of one hundred thirtie foure faire keele,\n But fiftie three did greet their natiue soile,\n Of thirtie thousand men arm\u2019d with bright steele,\n The greatest number after all their toile,\n Did perish in great Neptune\u2019s wrackfull spoile,\n And all the prince of Parmae\u2019s mightie bands\n Return\u2019d with shame, disgrace and emptie hands.\n\n 281.\n\n Thus our _Elizae\u2019s_ boasting enemie,\n Who in vaine pride did blacke their tragicke fleet,\n And brought ostents of threatning destinie,\n In top of all their hope with shame did meet,\n And fell beneath the conquering virgin\u2019s feet;\n Vnable many yeares to cure againe\n The wounds, which in this warre they did sustaine.\n\n 282.\n\n[Sidenote: A million of gold, one halfe paid in readie money, the other\nhalfe to be paid when any famous port was taken in England.]\n\n Thus Rome\u2019s proud _Sixtus_, England\u2019s mortall foe,\n Who towards the conquest of this emperie,\n A million with his blessing did bestow,\n And did presage vndoubted victorie\n With seeming future searching prophesie,\n Nor with his holy blessing, nor his gold\n This mightie fleet from falling could vphold.\n\n 283.\n\n But while Rome\u2019s _Sixtus_, twixt foule shame and feare,\n For such great losse gainst fortune did exclaime,\n Fame through the world triumphantly did beare\n This glorious act in our _Elizae\u2019s_ name,\n Who glorifying not in her foe-men\u2019s shame,\n With bounteous grace did vse the victorie\n To her proud foes in their captiuitie.\n\n 284.\n\n[Sidenote: When many were brought out of Ireland and other parts with\nhalters about their neckes, she sent them into Spaine at her owne\ncharge.]\n\n The baser sort, though made her people\u2019s scorne,\n Yet of her bountie she from death did spare,\n The better sort as her owne liege-men borne,\n All common benefits did freely share,\n And tooke the solace of the open aire,\n Whom she, though subiects of a mightie foe,\n To his disgrace triumphing did not show.\n\n 285.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 31._]\n\n Vnder a canopie of gold wide spread\n In chariot throne, like warre\u2019s triumphant dame,\n With crowne imperiall on her princely head,\n Borne by two milke-white steeds in state she came\n To Paul\u2019s high temple, while with loud exclaime,\n The people in her passage all about\n From loyall hearts their auies loud did shout.\n\n 286.\n\n Where round about the temple\u2019s battlements\n Hung th\u2019ensignes of her vanquisht enemie,\n As gracefull trophies, and fit ornaments,\n T\u2019adorne with state and greater maiestie,\n The triumph of her noble victorie,\n Which in the people\u2019s sight made pleasing showes,\n Who laugh\u2019d to scorne the threatning of her foes.\n\n 287.\n\n But she meeke prince dismounting from her throne,\n With iuorie-fingered-hands vplifted high,\n On humble knees, ascribed vnto none\n The honor of this great deed\u2019s dignitie,\n But to th\u2019Olympian king\u2019s great deitie,\n Who 'boue the rest, that scepter\u2019s states did weeld\n Her as his chosen, did from danger sheeld.\n\n 288.\n\n O matchlesse prince, though thy pure maiden breast\n Retain\u2019d that spirit of magnanimitie,\n That only brau\u2019d proud Rome\u2019s world-brauing beast,\n Yet didst thou not with vaunting vanitie\n Abuse the glorie of thy victorie:\n But after all thy high atchieuements wonne,\n To heau\u2019ns great King gau\u2019st praise, of what was done.\n\n 289.\n\n Which he accepting as an humble show\n Of her milde meeknesse, did so glorifie\n The fame of this high conquest gainst the foe,\n That her great name, since that great victorie,\n Yet liues a staine vnto her enemie;\n Yea many that beneath his yoke did grone,\n Then su\u2019d for succour at her princely throne.\n\n 290.\n\n Prince _Don Antonio_, heire suppos\u2019d by right\n Of all consents to _Don Sabastian_, slaine\n Against the barbarous Moore in bloodie fight,\n Exil\u2019d his countrie by the power of Spaine,\n Of his hard hap did vnto her complaine,\n Imploring aid at her assistant hands,\n To free his countrie from Iberian bands.\n\n 291.\n\n The noble virgin with remorsefull eyne,\n Viewing that wretched state all rent asunder,\n To pitie did her princely heart incline,\n And to the seas sent those two sonnes of thunder,\n That in the world had wrought so many a wonder,\n Renowned _Drake_, and _Norrice_, worthie wight,\n With _Don Antonio_ to obtaine his right.\n\n 292.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. eodem. 31._ Portugale voyage, taken out of the\ndiscourse written by _Colonel Anthonie Winkefield_, imployed in the\nsame voyage.]\n\n With many a worthie souldier shipt from shore,\n The stormie seas wilde wildernesse they plow\u2019d,\n And though the wrinckled waues rouz\u2019d in rough rore,\n Began to bandie billowes, waxing proud;\n Yet th\u2019English nauie, through tumultuous crowd\n Of darksome surges, did swift passage sweepe\n Vnto the shores of the Galician deepe.\n\n 293.\n\n Where taking land, as bees from cranied rockes\n Breake through the clefts, and to increase their store,\n About the fields flie euery way in flockes:\n So from their ships the souldiers more and more\n In mightie tumult multipli\u2019d the shore,\n Where vncontrol\u2019d themselues they did conioyne\n In martiall troopes, and marched towards the Groyne.\n\n 294.\n\n Which to defend from spoile the fainting foes\n By need constrain\u2019d, at first forth boldly came,\n And in the field our forces did oppose;\n But being with furie charg\u2019d by men of fame,\n Vnto the towne they backe retir\u2019d with shame,\n Whom to the gates the English did pursue,\n And with smart stripes did reach them as they flew.\n\n 295.\n\n Nor could their strong erected walles withstand\n The fierce assaylants, who with nimble sprite\n Did scale their bulwarkes, and by force of hand\n Did turne th\u2019Iberians into shamefull flight,\n Although with most aduantage they did fight,\n Of whom fiue hundred on the dust fell dead,\n The rest to th\u2019vpper towne amazed fled.\n\n 296.\n\n The towne surpris\u2019d, stor\u2019d in the same were found\n The sterne designes of _Philip\u2019s_ raging teene;\n For euery place with shipping did abound,\n Which for another fleet prepar\u2019d had beene,\n Intended once againe against our queene;\n But by despoiling of this conquered towne,\n King _Philip\u2019s_ hopes they in despaire did drowne.\n\n 297.\n\n From hence the victors, in _battalia_ led\n To th\u2019vpper Groyne by _Norrice_ noble knight,\n To which the foes had for their safegard fled,\n Did march with speed, and in their foes despight\n Before the towne their warlike tents did pight,\n Where in strong battery many daies they lay,\n And to remoue them none durst giue th\u2019assay.\n\n 298.\n\n Yet by the towne six miles from off the coast,\n The count _D\u2019Andrada_ with his armie lay,\n Betwixt Petrance and the English hoast,\n Who boasting with his powers to driue away\n The foes from Groyne; yet durst not giue th\u2019assay;\n But kept aloofe intrencht within the ground,\n With strong built baracadoes fenced round.\n\n 299.\n\n Which, when braue _Norrice_ heard, with _Drake\u2019s_ consent\n Nine regiments amongst the rest he chose,\n And whirlewinde-like with furie forth he went,\n Marching with winged pace vpon the foes,\n On their owne ground with them to bandie blowes,\n On whom hight _Edward Norrice_, lion like,\n Gaue the first charge with his sharpe pointed pike.\n\n 300.\n\n Which with such furious force he did pursue,\n That ouer thrusting downe he fell to ground,\n At which aduantage in the foe-men flew,\n And in the head the valiant knight did wound,\n Whom in extremitie begirted round\n By eager foes, his brother with strong hands\n Rescu\u2019d from danger, death, or captiue bands.\n\n 301.\n\n Then noble _Sidnie_, _Wingfield_, _Middleton_,\n Each with his band made in vpon the foes,\n Then _Hinder_, _Fulford_, and stout _Erington_,\n Stood firme in fight, and in the violent close\n Amongst th\u2019Iberians dealt such martiall blowes,\n That their chiefe leaders in the field were slaine,\n Or wounded, could no more the fight maintaine.\n\n 302.\n\n The other fled, and th\u2019English did pursue\n With speedie haste, a number fell in chace,\n Three miles the dust, with blood they did imbrue,\n Some downewards groueling did the ground embrace,\n Some vpwards spread, did shew death\u2019s gastly face,\n Three miles in compasse on that haplesse soile,\n Did flow with fruits of blood, of death, and spoile.\n\n 303.\n\n The valiant victors, that did backe returne,\n Loaded with golden bootie from the chace,\n The fruitfull countrie round about did burne\n With wastfull fire, which did in euery place\n Townes, towers, woods, groues with hungrie flames embrace,\n Whose people did from farre behold the flame\n With teare-torne eyes; yet could not helpe the same.\n\n 304.\n\n Thus fam\u2019d-grac\u2019d _Norrice_ crown\u2019d with victorie,\n Vnto the Groyne returned backe againe,\n And with more worth his deed to amplifie,\n King _Philip\u2019s_ standard with the armes of Spaine,\n Which from his foes in fight he did constraine,\n Before him in his march aduanced was,\n As with his troopes he towards the Groyne did passe.\n\n 305.\n\n Where he not long the voyage did delay\n For Portugale in _Don Antonioe\u2019s_ right;\n But left the Groyne and lanched off to sea,\n Where with that noble earle great _Essex_ hight,\n His brother, and stout _Williams_ that bold knight,\n He happily did meet, who with full gale\n To Portugale together forth did saile.\n\n 306.\n\n And in a storme, as people sent from heau\u2019n,\n That nation vnto freedome to restore,\n They by the tempest gainst Peniche driuen,\n Vp to the waste in waters raging sore,\n Through death and danger waded to the shore;\n Where when they came vpon the marine sands,\n In spight of foes they martiall\u2019d vp their bands.\n\n 307.\n\n For when the _Conde De Fuentes_ came\n With his proud troopes t\u2019afront them in the fight,\n The valiant _Deuorax_ in _Elizae\u2019s_ name\n Before the castle, and the towne in sight,\n Did charge vpon them with such violent might,\n That horror spread, through each Iberian troope,\n To seruile feare made stoutest hearts to stoope.\n\n 308.\n\n None durst abide, with foule retreat all fled,\n Free passage to the victors open lay,\n Who towards the towne did march, from whence, in dread\n Of their approch, the people fled away,\n And left the towne vnto their foes for prey,\n Whereby the castle taken with the same,\n They did possesse in _Don Antonioe\u2019s_ name.\n\n 309.\n\n From hence towards Lisbon they did march forthright,\n And in the way the noble generall\n Did enter Torres Vedras, in despight\n Of that vaine boast of the proud cardinall,\n Who gaue his faith to them of Portugale\n T\u2019oppose him in the field, though with delay,\n He kept aloofe, and durst not giue th\u2019assay.\n\n 310.\n\n To Lisbon gates, troopt vp in martiall pace\n The English went, and in the suburbs pight\n _Elizae\u2019s_ ensignes in the foes disgrace,\n In hope that _Don Antonio_ would excite\n The people to his aide, and in his right\n Shake off the bondage which they did sustaine,\n Thereby their late-lost freedome to regaine.\n\n 311.\n\n But they ignoble kind of dunghill brood,\n With female hearts, more cold in valiancie\n Then naked Indians, who with losse of blood\n Haue often sought in midst of miserie,\n To free themselues from seruile slauerie;\n When such stout champions in their cause did stand,\n Durst not appeare to vse their helping hand.\n\n 312.\n\n The sweets of libertie, for which the Iew\n Withstood stout _Titus_, mightie _C\u00e6sar\u2019s_ sonne,\n The loyall loue, that th\u2019ancient Britaine drew\n To those great deeds for _Carataccus_ donne,\n When Rome\u2019s _Ostorius_ did this land orerun,\n The heartlesse Portugale could not excite,\n To hazard fortune gainst the foes in fight.\n\n 313.\n\n For many daies the English with renowne,\n Gainst death and danger did themselues oppose,\n And gaue assault vnto the chiefest towne,\n By their high fortitude t\u2019imbolden those,\n That liu\u2019d in dread of their insulting foes;\n And to performe their promis\u2019d force for fight\n Against the foes, in _Don Antonio\u2019s_ right.\n\n 314.\n\n Yet at their hands no helpe to this assay\n _Elizae\u2019s_ famous captaines could obtaine,\n Who wanting power their valour to display,\n When the sad prince _Antonio_ all in vaine\n The people\u2019s helpe had sought, and none could gaine,\n Remou\u2019d their martiall power gainst Lisbon bent,\n And towards Cascais vnto their nauie went.\n\n 315.\n\n Where valiant _Drake_ with his triumphant fleet,\n Came vp the riuer as it was decreed,\n And with the armie at Cascais did meet,\n Whose meeting to the foes such feare did breed,\n That at their first approch, the towne with speed\n And castle both without long batterie,\n Did stoope their pride to th\u2019English valiancie.\n\n 316.\n\n And where the foes that proudly ranged were\n Fast by Saint Iulian\u2019s, readie arm\u2019d for fight,\n Had broadly misreported, that with feare\n Of their approch their foes with foule affright,\n Themselues had taken to inglorious flight,\n Vndaunted _Norrice_ with his martiall traine,\n Did towards Saint Iulian\u2019s backe returne againe.\n\n 317.\n\n[Sidenote: In _Colonel Wingfield\u2019s_ discourse, pag. 148, in the second\nvolume of _R. Hak._ Nauigations.]\n\n And valiant _Essex_ this bold challenge sent,\n As combatant in his great soueraigne\u2019s name,\n To know, who durst of noble borne descent,\n Stand forth amongst the rest to fight for fame,\n And trie by blowes the cause, for which they came;\n Or if that eight to eight, or ten to ten,\n Durst tempt their fate in fight like valiant men.\n\n 318.\n\n But through th\u2019Iberian armie not a man\n Stood forth as combatant in single fight;\n For when the generall with his troops began\n T\u2019approch their campe, before he came in sight,\n They fled away befriended by the night,\n Nor stai\u2019d they till they made great Lisbon gate,\n Their safe asylum gainst all aduerse fate.\n\n 319.\n\n Meane time, that sea-fam\u2019d captaine worthie _Drake_,\n Twice fortie martiall ships well man\u2019d for fight,\n In seas did sinke, did burne, did spoile and take;\n Mongst whom Saint _Iohn de Colerado_ hight,\n Third vnto none in building and in might,\n He burnt with raging fire of flaming brand,\n And sunk her bulke in shoales of swallowing sand.\n\n 320.\n\n Thus though the English disappointed were\n Of seating _Don Antonio_ in the throne,\n Through that base female stomackt nation\u2019s feare,\n Whose sad distresse no future time shall moane,\n Though vnder tyrant\u2019s yoke their spirits groane;\n Yet fame, the prize on which they ment to pray,\n In their swift barks with them they brought away.\n\n 321.\n\n And being launcht into the sea\u2019s blacke brest,\n By stormie puffe of Auster\u2019s blustring blore,\n They carried were with violent storme opprest,\n 'Bout Bayon iles, and towards the sandie shore\n With swift winde-swelling sailes their nauie bore,\n Where both the generals on the barren strand,\n Did with two thousand souldiers put to land.\n\n 322.\n\n And as the wealthie fields of ripe-growen corne,\n Which ouercharg\u2019d with seed their heads do bow\n Are by the reaper downe in handfuls borne,\n Who for that meed, which th\u2019owner doth allow,\n Still plies his labour with a sweatie brow;\n So th\u2019English did with sword and fire despoile\n The fruitfull plentie of that pleasant soile.\n\n 323.\n\n That strong street-fenced towne, Vigo by name,\n In ashie heapes on ground did groueling lie,\n And on the swift wings of a golden flame,\n The vaile-inriched Borsis mounting high,\n With blazing shine did glaze the cloudie skie,\n While eight miles compasse Vulcan\u2019s fierie fume\n Dame Ceres gifts did in the vales consume.\n\n 324.\n\n Thus grac\u2019d with noble conquest and rich spoile,\n The valiant victors with their royall fleet,\n Did passe the seas vnto their natiue soile,\n Where falling prostrate at their soueraigne\u2019s feet,\n With glorious prize the virgin they did greet,\n The praise of which what they to her had giuen,\n She gaue againe vnto the King of heau\u2019n.\n\n 325.\n\n[Sidenote: _Huighen van Linschoten_ and many others.]\n\n Vpon the deepes of Neptune\u2019s large command,\n Many more high exploits were daily done.\n And from the vanquisht foes by force of hand,\n Many faire ships of many a hundred tonne\n Full fraught with wealthie prize were daily wonne,\n For forren pens speake wonder of the fame,\n And rich spoiles gotten in _Elizae\u2019s_ name.\n\n 326.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno eodem 31._\n\nTaken out of the discourse written by that excellent enginer _M. Edward\nWright_.]\n\n That famous horse-man, launce-fam\u2019d _Clifford_ hight,\n The great Her\u00f6e noble _Cumberland_,\n About th\u2019Azores in his foes despight\n Did scoure the seas, and with three ships command\n Each famous port vpon that slimie strand:\n For those few English, which he did assemble\n In three small ships, made all Tercera tremble.\n\n 327.\n\n Vpon the walles of Fayall, that strong towne,\n Which huge mount Pyco ouerlookes from west,\n He by strong hand with England\u2019s crosse did crowne,\n And gainst that strand vpon the seas broad brest,\n Many great hulkes with blacke rouz\u2019d waues distrest\n Of th\u2019Indian fleet, full fraught with prize for Spaine,\n He brought to England ore the broad-backt maine.\n\n 328.\n\n Yet he alone braue champion euer prest,\n For his faire mistresse to defend her right,\n Did not triumph on Neptune\u2019s watrie brest;\n But many more, all men of famous might,\n The vtmost parts of earth and seas did smite\n With loud report that England\u2019s bounds did keep,\n A virgin, that was ladie of the deepe.\n\n 329.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Reg. 32._]\n\n Fame-winged _Drake_ and _Hawkins_, that bold knight,\n Vpon the coast of Spaine the foes did dare,\n When at the Groyne that host lay readie dight\n To passe the seas, to dispossesse Nauarre,\n Gainst whom th\u2019vnholy league did warre prepare;\n But while the royall fleet of our faire queene\n Appeer\u2019d at sea, they durst not then be seene.\n\n 330.\n\n Nor durst that captaine of the Spanish fleet,\n Th\u2019insulting _Don Alonso Bacan_ hight,\n _Elizae\u2019s_ ships in equall battell meet;\n But if by chance he found the ods in fight,\n Then proudly would he vse his vtmost might:\n Yet England\u2019s blacke reuenge, alone, at length\n Did worke him shame with all his nauall strength.\n\n 331.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 33._ Taken out of the discourse penned by Sir\n_Walter Raughley_.]\n\n For famous _Greenuile_ sayling neere to Flores\n In the Reuenge of our _Elizae\u2019s_ fleet,\n Obscur\u2019d from sight with th\u2019ilands of th\u2019Azores,\n Spaine\u2019s great Armada did vntimely meet;\n Yet with sharpe welcome their approch did greet,\n For rich reuenge he made vpon his foes;\n Though he his life in his Reuenge did lose.\n\n 332.\n\n Ten thousand men in three and fiftie saile,\n Did in his barke alone begirt him round,\n And fifteene howers space did neuer saile\n With thundring shot his ship\u2019s weake wombe to wound,\n Both him, and her in th\u2019ocean to confound,\n Whom with twice fiftie men he did oppose,\n And did inferre dire slaughter mongst his foes.\n\n 333.\n\n[Sidenote: Some say this ship foundred.]\n\n The great San _Philip_, that mount Etna like,\n Lay spitting fierie vengeance gainst her foes,\n In fight her entertaine did so dislike,\n That she her sad mishap did soone disclose,\n And fainting made retreate, to shun foule blowes,\n While the amaz\u2019d Iberians stroue to saue\n Her leaking wombe from sinking in the waue.\n\n 334.\n\n Like as a goodly hart begirted round,\n With eager hounds, that thirst to see him fall,\n Tir\u2019d in the toile, turnes head and stands his ground,\n And with fell blowes the dogs do so appall,\n That in the end he makes his way through all:\n So noble _Greenuile_ round besieg\u2019d in fight,\n Brake through their squadrons with admired might.\n\n 335.\n\n Saint _Michael_ hight, and _Cyuil\u2019s_ great Ascension,\n With th\u2019admirall of the hulkes, three ships of fame,\n Each of the which so large was in dimension,\n That _Greenuil\u2019s_ ship, that bore Vindicta\u2019s name,\n Did seeme a skiffe compar\u2019d vnto the same,\n With crosse-barre shot in fight he did so wound,\n That wallowing waues their hugenesse did confound.\n\n 336.\n\n[Sidenote: In this fight there were fiue ships of great burthen sunke,\n1000 men, and many of especiall note slaine.]\n\n Against them all she proudly did enthunder,\n Vntill her masts were beaten ouerbord,\n Her deckes downe raz\u2019d, her tackle cut asunder,\n Vntill her shot and powder, that were stor\u2019d\n In her maim\u2019d bulke could scarce one charge afford;\n Yea when her sides were euened with the waue\n She would not yeeld, but still her foes did braue.\n\n 337.\n\n And had not fate inforc\u2019d her noble knight,\n To sinke downe senselesse in her hollow wombe,\n Euen he alone would haue withstood their might:\n But who, alas, can contradict the doome\n O wilfull fate, when time prefix\u2019d is come;\n From musket\u2019s mouth spit forth with vengefull breath,\n A fatall shot did wound the knight to death.\n\n 338.\n\n And at his death, to shew his mightie mind,\n Being from his ship conuei\u2019d amongst his foes,\n Feeling th\u2019approch of his last houre assign\u2019d,\n As one not fear\u2019d in all externall showes\n To leaue this life, whose end should end his woes,\n With manly lookes amidst his enemies\n These words he spake, ere death did close his eies:\n\n 339.\n\n[Sidenote: This he spake in Spanish, recorded in the 99 chap. of _Iohn\nHuighen van Linschoten_.]\n\n \u201cIn peace of mind I bid the world adew,\n For that a souldier\u2019s death I truly die,\n And to my royall queene haue paid her due,\n Since by my timelesse death I glorifie\n My God, and her against her enemie:\n Which to my grace, since fame to her shall tell,\n With ioy I bid the world and her farewell.\u201d\n\n 340.\n\n Thus fame\u2019s faire finger in his manly prime,\n With honor\u2019d touch in death did close his eies,\n Whose glorie shall outlast the prints of time,\n Caru\u2019d in his brow, and like the sunne in skies,\n In darkest times each day shall fresh arise;\n For to my verse if heauen such grace do giue,\n True noble knight, thy name shall euer liue.\n\n 341.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 34._ Out of M. _R. Hak._ in the last part of his\nsecond volume.]\n\n His ghost regardlesse did not passe away\n Without reuenge: for where in haplesse fight,\n Vnhappie fate did worke his liue\u2019s decay,\n There _Frobisher_ and _Borrough_ that bold knight,\n To his Iberian foes did worke despight;\n For by th\u2019Azores on the stormie maine,\n Many a faire price they daily did obtaine.\n\n 342.\n\n The Indian barkes at th\u2019ilands they did stop,\n For which, that naked people which adore\n The king of flames in steepe Olympus top,\n With wicked steele their grandames ribs had tore,\n To glut their spacious wombes with golden ore,\n Whom _Frobisher_ did send with all their treasure,\n To be dispos\u2019d at his _Elizae\u2019s_ pleasure.\n\n 343.\n\n Meane time, stout _Crosse_ and _Borrough_ valiant knight,\n Against that monster of the fleet of Spaine,\n The _Madre Dios_, did a noble fight\n Before those ilands many houres maintaine,\n Whom by plaine strength, at length they did constraine\n To stoope her pride, and hazarding the might\n Of twice three hundred, boorded her in fight.\n\n 344.\n\n Who to inrich their noble enterprize\n With a small world of treasure did abound,\n Ten smaller ships fraught with her merchandize,\n Which sto\u2019d within her spacious bulke were found,\n Arriued safe in Thamis siluer sound;\n For fifteene hundred tunne she did containe,\n And thirtie foot she drew within the maine.\n\n 345.\n\n They tooke likewise the Santa Clare in fight,\n Which from the Indian east for Spaine was bound,\n And on the ilands in their foe-men\u2019s sight,\n With flames of hungrie fire they did confound\n The Santa Cruze, which did with wealth abound,\n Making each creeke and corner of the maine\n To know the rule of their _Elizae\u2019s_ raigne.\n\n 346.\n\n But should I heere assay to sing of those,\n Who to eternifie their soueraigne\u2019s name,\n Renown\u2019d their swords with fall of thousand foes,\n Had I a brazen trumpe to sound the same,\n Which might out-sound th\u2019eternall trumpe of fame,\n Yet not an age drawne out in length of daies,\n Would me suffice to sing their worthie praise.\n\n 347.\n\n[Sidenote: _Huighen van Linschoten._]\n\n[Sidenote: _Iohannes Parmenius Bud\u00e6us._]\n\n The Belgian author of that large discourse\n Of th\u2019Indian trafickes, truly doth explaine\n The matchlesse vertue of their nauall force,\n And of their high aduentures on the maine,\n That Saxons Latin muse in loftie straine\n About the world doth sing; yet cruell fate\n Vnto his life did adde too short a date.\n\n 348.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Dom. 1584._ Sir _Humfrey Gilbert_.]\n\n For when braue spirit did _Gilbert\u2019s_ thoughts excite,\n To saile the seas to search for worlds vnfound,\n This worthie poet with that noble knight\n In th\u2019angrie surge, alas, was helplesse drown\u2019d,\n And swallow\u2019d vp within the deepe\u2019s blacke sound:\n Yet life to _Gilbert_ dead, his verse doth giue,\n And his owne name, in his owne verse doth liue.\n\n 349.\n\n But leaue we heere those valiant men, that loue\n To diue the deepes of Neptune\u2019s high command,\n To see the wonders of the mightie Ioue,\n And view meane while, with what auspicious hand,\n _Eliza_ guides her plentious peopled land,\n Whose royall raigne and bountie debonaire,\n Time\u2019s time to come shall count past all compare.\n\n 350.\n\n While those bold martialists, that for their fame\n In skill of warre affaires were so renown\u2019d,\n Did by their swords immortalize her name,\n So those graue aged fathers, peeres profound,\n In depth of iudgement with wit\u2019s laurell crown\u2019d,\n In swaying th\u2019empire\u2019s scepter all her daies,\n Did guide her steps in the true path of praise.\n\n 351.\n\n Like gods in counsell in the state affaires,\n They sate in senate skill\u2019d in all things done,\n Deeds past and future, carrying by their cares\n Through broken sleepes the course of things begun\n Striuing in dead of night the time t\u2019outrun,\n By good aduice, by plots, and counsels close,\n T\u2019oppugne, preuent, and circumuent their foes.\n\n 352.\n\n From whom in care of state the royall maid\n Did counsell take, as from the mouth of Ioue,\n Still rul\u2019d with reason, as in power obey\u2019d,\n Not led with false opinions fond selfe-loue,\n But by their sound aduice did euer proue,\n How she with lawes respect might best command,\n Seeing Ioue had put the scepter in her hand.\n\n 353.\n\n And with intent, that in her maiden brest\n A deepe impression of that pregnant wit\n In vse of lawes, by vse might be imprest,\n Mongst the graue senate she did often sit,\n And her conceit to consultation fit:\n All princes that true vertue\u2019s race do run,\n The starre-bright light of counsell will not shun.\n\n 354.\n\n As the good shepheard with respectiue right\n Of his meeke flocke, drownes not the night in sleepe,\n Nor spends the compleat day in his delight;\n Who distant farre vpon some mountaine steepe,\n Yet nere in care them safe from spoile doth keepe:\n So her chiefe care, as carelesse how to please\n Her owne affect; was care of people\u2019s ease.\n\n 355.\n\n Well did she know, that who would guard and keepe\n The state and counsell of a realme aright,\n Not vtterly dissolu\u2019d in ease and sleepe,\n Or led with loose affection of delight,\n They must insist in their owne appetite;\n But their state-charged thoughts in cares begun,\n Through broken sleepes, and easelesse toiles must run.\n\n 356.\n\n Yet if she did abstaine from graue affaires,\n And found fit time to solace her delay,\n With fond delight she did not ease her cares;\n But with the ladie muses wont to play,\n Or Pallas-like would often spend the day,\n In making wits quaint parlie her best sport,\n Amidst her virgin troope of stately port.\n\n 357.\n\n Mongst whom, if some, yet mindfull of her worth,\n With iuorie fingers touch do chance to turne\n These luckie leaues, I only picke them forth\n To grace Ioue\u2019s wit-bred brood, the thrice three borne\n With their great worth, she dead, left now forlorne,\n That by their power, whence I this verse deriue,\n She may in them, and they in her suruiue.\n\n 358.\n\n And yee faire nymphs, that like to angels houer\n About the palace of our Britaine king,\n That locke the hearts of euery gazing louer\n Within your lookes, whence all delight doth spring,\n Of this faire queene vouchsafe to heare me sing,\n And let her life, to whom she was vnknowne,\n A Mirrour be for them to gaze vpon.\n\n 359.\n\n It was, alas that now it is not so,\n Praise-worthie deem\u2019d amongst diuinest dames,\n In learning\u2019s lore their leasure to bestow,\n For which the muses to their lasting fames,\n In golden verse might eternize their names;\n But now seduc\u2019d with each mind-pleasing toy\n In learning\u2019s liking, few do place their ioy.\n\n 360.\n\n Yet she, that could command all ioyes on earth,\n With sweets of iudgement suckt from learning, skill\n In all delights, did moderate her mirth,\n Nor gaue she swinge vnto her princely will\n In any pleasure to affect the fill;\n But with true temperance aduis\u2019d aright,\n She best did loue the meane in each delight.\n\n 361.\n\n In musike\u2019s skill mongst princes past compare\n She was esteem\u2019d; and yet for that delight\n The precious time she did not wholly square,\n And though in daintie dance she goodly dight\n Was matchlesse held for her maiestike sprite;\n Yet not in dalliance did she go astray,\n Ne yet in dance did dallie out the day.\n\n 362.\n\n She with the seed of Ioue, the muses nine,\n So frequent was in her yeares youthfull prime,\n That she of them had learned power diuine\n To quell proud loue, if loue at any time\n In her pure brest aloft began to clime,\n The praise of whom so chaste, and yet so faire,\n Enuie\u2019s foule selfe not iustly can impaire.\n\n 363.\n\n In learning\u2019s better part her skill was such,\n That her sweet tongue could speake distinctiuely\n Greeke, Latin, Tuscane, Spanish, French, and Dutch:\n For few could come in friendly ambasie\n From forren parts to greet her maiestie,\n Whom she not answer\u2019d in their natiue tongue,\n As if all language on her lips had hung.\n\n 364.\n\n Whereby the world did seeme to plead for right\n Within her court, where in her princely chaire,\n Astrea-like she sate with powerfull might\n To right the wrong of those, that in despaire\n Of other\u2019s helpe, to her did make repaire,\n Who after humble sute backe neuer went\n Through her court gates without true mind\u2019s content.\n\n 365.\n\n Witnesse great _Burbon_, when that house of Guise\n Did counterchecke thee in thy lawfull claime,\n In thy defence what prince did then arise,\n Or with strong hand, who in fight\u2019s bloodie frame\n Did ioyne to wound thy rebell foes with shame?\n But England\u2019s queene, who still with fresh supplie\n Did send her forces gainst thine enemie:\n\n 366.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno eodem 34._\n\nIn _Stow_ anno 32.]\n\n To beare the first brunt in those bloodie broyles,\n That noble knight, the famous _Willoughby_,\n Did crosse the seas, and through important toyles\n Did lead a multitude, whose valiancie\n Made France admire our English Britanie,\n Whom England\u2019s royall virgin did excite\n Vnto that warre t\u2019aduance thee to thy right.\n\n 367.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. eodem._]\n\n And then to reinforce thy strength\u2019s decay\n World-wondred _Norrice_, Mars his matchlesse sonne,\n Did with three thousand souldiers passe the sea,\n Who in French Britaine hauing once begunne,\n Did not forsake thee, till thy warres were done,\n Whom many did in this thy cause insue,\n And in thy French dust did their bloods imbrue.\n\n 368.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. eodem._ Earle of Essex.]\n\n[Sidenote: Sir _Walter Deuoreux_.]\n\n When noble _Deuoreux_, that heroicke knight,\n To shew his loue to armes and cheualrie,\n Ingag\u2019d his person in that furious fight\n Before that towne, hight Roan in Normandie,\n His honor\u2019d brother fighting valiantly;\n Who though but yong, yet oft approu\u2019d in fight,\n By a small shot was slaine in his owne sight.\n\n 369.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir _William Sackuile_.]\n\n And thou braue _Sackuile_, _Buckhurst_ third-borne birth,\n Who in these warres didst change thy life for fame,\n Although thy bones lie tomb\u2019d in stranger earth,\n Yet in thy countrie liues thy noble name\n And honor\u2019d friends, that still record the same:\n For though blacke death triumph ore humane breath,\n Yet vertue\u2019s deeds do liue in spight of death.\n\n 370.\n\n Many more valiant men of no meane birth,\n Whose names obscur\u2019d, are yet not come to light,\n Being slaine, did falling kisse their mother earth,\n And with their foreheads trode the ground in fight,\n Against vntruth t\u2019aduance great _Burbon\u2019s_ right,\n Who by their valour, fighting for renowne,\n Did at the length in peace enioy his crowne.\n\n 371.\n\n Thus Albion\u2019s mistresse as an angell sent,\n The sonnes of men from hel\u2019s blacke prince to saue,\n The world\u2019s vsurped rule from Rome did rent,\n And from her yoke sweet freedome\u2019s comfort gaue\n To those her neighbours, that her helpe did craue,\n Restoring princes to their royaltie,\n Debas\u2019d by Rome\u2019s insulting tyrannie.\n\n 372.\n\n The which when that seuen-headed beast beheld,\n Who proudly treads vpon the necks of kings\n With indignation his high stomack sweld,\n And of the adulterate sect forthwith he wings\n Many bald priests t\u2019enact pernicious things,\n Those close confessors, that most vse their skill\n To worke the weaker sex vnto their will.\n\n 373.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. eodem. 34._]\n\n With these the bifront Iesuits, that cloake\n Themselues in diuers shapes, did seeke againe,\n Against their prince the people to prouoke,\n And with pretence of zeale did thinke to traine\n Their loyall hearts against their soueraigne:\n But these their base attempts tooke no euent,\n Seeing prudent Ioue their plots did still preuent.\n\n 374.\n\n For at this time, the Irish _Oroick_,\n That bloodie traytour to this kingdome\u2019s state,\n That with his vtmost diligence did worke\n With Rome and Spaine to execute their hate,\n Being most secure of his vntimely fate,\n Preuented was, in what he did pretend\n In his foule treason by a traytor\u2019s end.\n\n 375.\n\n For after all his plots at length he came\n To proffer seruice to that roiall king,\n Now monarch of this ile, and in his name,\n All Ireland in subiection he would bring,\n If he would shroud him with his soueraigne wing;\n But he braue prince, t\u2019whom traitors hatefull beene,\n Did send that traitor to our noble queene.\n\n 376.\n\n O peerelesse prince, that northerne starre so bright,\n Whose shine did guide vs to the port of rest,\n When our pure virgin lampe did lose her light,\n If from thy sight these ruder times be blest,\n But with one kingly glaunce, graunt this request,\n As liuing thou didst honour her great name,\n So shee being dead, O king, still loue the same.\n\n 377.\n\n Persist, persist, to grace her being dead,\n Who liuing did to thee all grace proclaime,\n Against her name permit no scandall spread;\n But quell those black-mouth\u2019d monsters that defame\n The Lord\u2019s anointed our _Elizae\u2019s_ name,\n So thy great name \u2019gainst enuie\u2019s biting rage,\n May finde like fauour in the world\u2019s last age.\n\n 378.\n\n After this rebel\u2019s ruine, in whose life\n Rome did such hopefull confidence repose,\n Hoping through him to raise some home-bred strife,\n Vnable now t\u2019auenge her on her foes,\n By honour\u2019d meanes in dealing martiall blowes;\n Being senselesse of all princely roialtie\n He sought reuenge by basest treacherie.\n\n 379.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 35._]\n\n Hight _Lopez_ he, that was for physick\u2019s skill,\n Highly respected in the prince\u2019s grace,\n Corrupted was her loued life to spill,\n And had the helpe of heauen not been in place,\n The roiall virgin in a moment\u2019s space\n In stead of that, which should haue life protected\n Had tasted death in poison strong confected.\n\n 380.\n\n[Sidenote: He suffered death, _Anno Reg. 36_.]\n\n But that great King of heau\u2019n, whose watchfull eie\n Did euer guard her maiden brest from taint\n Of timelesse death, the drift did soone descrie,\n And made false _Lopez_ in the fact to faint,\n Depicturing out his fault in feare\u2019s constraint,\n Who wretched traytor, for his blacke deed done,\n Blacke death and scandall in the world hath wonne.\n\n 381.\n\n Rome\u2019s demi-god that can at his dispose\n By power from heau\u2019n dispence with villanie,\n Thus did his sanctitie of life disclose,\n In plotting by inglorious treacherie,\n Basely to act a virgin\u2019s tragedie;\n Whose force for fight seem\u2019d both on seas and land,\n Too full of death for him to countermand.\n\n 382.\n\n Yet once againe with contumelious vaunt,\n Inuasion threatned was against this land,\n Which did our queene\u2019s great heart so little daunt,\n That to her conquering fleet she gaue command,\n Which readie rig\u2019d lay on the English strand,\n To seeke the foes for fight in their owne home,\n Thereby to ease them of their toyle to come.\n\n 383.\n\n[Sidenote: The honorable voyage to Cadiz, _Anno Reg. 38_. Set downe in\nthe end of the last part of the second volume of Nauigations of _R.\nHakluit_.]\n\n The royall fleet to do the dame\u2019s command,\n Rig\u2019d vp to dance on Amphitrite\u2019s greene,\n With war-like musike\u2019s sound did launch from land,\n To whom, in loue of Albion\u2019s honor\u2019d queene,\n Then easefull peace Spaine\u2019s warre more wisht hath beene,\n Whose bosomes twice ten thousand men did fill,\n Train\u2019d vp to tread the paths of warre with skill.\n\n 384.\n\n Two noble peeres stood vp to lead them out,\n The one hight _Howard_ he, that with renowne\n Gainst Spaine\u2019s blacke fleet successefully had fought,\n Who now, though honor\u2019d age his head did crowne\n With snow-white haires of siluer like soft downe;\n Yet in despight of yeares respect did goe,\n As generall of the fleet against the foe.\n\n 385.\n\n The other peere, whose heart heauen grac\u2019d with grace\n Of goodly gifts, was _Essex_ noble knight,\n Whom from his youth treading the honour\u2019d race\n Of valiant men, true vertue did excite,\n T\u2019affect renowne in warre with chiefe delight,\n Who best aboue the best of high command,\n In this exploit went generall of the land.\n\n 386.\n\n[Sidenote: They did proclaime their intended voyage in Greeke, Latin,\nFrench, Spanish, &c. through most parts of Europe.]\n\n These lords, not like the foes, did put in vre,\n Their high exploit, who when their blacke fleete came\n Did treate of peace, to make vs more secure;\n But they each where their purpose to proclaime,\n Chose fame for herauld to denounce the same,\n Threatning all nations with their dames iust ire,\n That should as agents with their foe conspire.\n\n 387.\n\n Many more nobles drew their willing swords\n In this exploit to trie th\u2019Iberian might:\n Braue _Sussex_, _Howard_, _Harbert_, valiant lords,\n Lord _Warden_, _Burk_, stout _Veere_ and _Clifford_ hight,\n With _Lodowicke_ of Nassau that stranger knight,\n _Don Christopher_ young prince of Portugale,\n And _Vanderforde_ the Belgian\u2019s generall.\n\n 388.\n\n From Plimmouth port in safe transport of these\n And many gallants more, two hundred keele\n Did with swift winde cut through the wauie seas,\n While shee, whose heart th\u2019effects of grace did feele,\n Not giuing trust vnto the strength of steele,\n While England\u2019s sacred queene, while shee, I say,\n For her faire fleete to this effect did pray:\n\n 389.\n\n[Sidenote: Recorded by him that wrote this voiage, who carried it with\nhim into Spaine, translated into Latin by D. _Marbecke_.]\n\n \u201cThou guide of all the world, great king of heauen,\n That seest all hearts with thy all-seeing eye,\n Thou knowest what cause vs to this warre hath driuen,\n No thirst of blood, of wealth, or dignitie,\n No malice of reuenge or iniurie;\n But to defend thy truth, we lift our armes\n And to preuent our foes intended harmes.\n\n 390.\n\n Heare then, O king of heau\u2019n, thy hand-maid\u2019s prayer,\n Giue full effect vnto our iust desire,\n In midst of stormes t\u2019our fleet vouchsafe thy care,\n And with thy heau\u2019nly fortitude inspire\n Our souldiers hearts, that they may not retire\n Vnto their homes without victorious fame,\n T\u2019aduance the glorie of thy holy name.\u201d\n\n 391.\n\n Thus pray\u2019d _Eliza_, to whose iust request\n The God of Hosts aduisefull audience gaue,\n Who downe descending from his heau\u2019nly rest,\n Did safely lead her ships, as she did craue,\n To Cadiz harbor ore the surging waue,\n Where to all eyes appear\u2019d his true foresigne,\n That gainst th\u2019Iberians they should victors shine.\n\n 392.\n\n As that thrice happie bird, the peacefull doue,\n When the old world groaning beneath the raigne\n Of giants raging rule, was drown\u2019d by Ioue,\n Brought heau\u2019nly newes of a new world againe\n Vnto the Arke, then floting on the maine:\n So now a doue did with her presence greet\n _Elizae\u2019s_ Arke, then admirall of the fleet.\n\n 393.\n\n[Sidenote: Recorded by the Author then present.]\n\n For loe the fleet riding at seas in sight\n Of Cadiz towers, making that towne the marke\n Of their desire, the doue did stay her flight\n Vpon the maine yard of that stately barke,\n Which long before that time was term\u2019d the Arke,\n Whose vnexpected presence did professe\n Peace to the fleet; but to the foes distresse:\n\n 394.\n\n Who from the browes of Cadiz loftie towers\n With eyes amaz\u2019d, viewing so many a keele\n Floting vpon their seas, and seeing such powers\n Of martiall people arm\u2019d in brightest steele,\n The cold effects of fainting feare did feele,\n Through whose faint brests remembrance now did run\n Of ancient wrongs to England\u2019s empresse done.\n\n 395.\n\n The fleete descri\u2019d, the citie high did ring\n Each where with horrid sound of shrill alarmes,\n In euery street Bellona loud did sing\n The song of battaile, and the foes in swarmes\n Did throng together in the streets to armes,\n While fearefull noise of children\u2019s wofull cries,\n And women\u2019s shrikes did pierce the echoing skies.\n\n 396.\n\n The gates were open set, out rush\u2019t the hoast,\n Both horse and foote in armes confused sound,\n Who vaunting of their power did vainely boast,\n Their fainting foes in battaile to confound,\n If their bold feete durst presse the sandie ground,\n Not doubting all their fleete, with fire t\u2019inflame,\n If from their ships to fight on shore they came.\n\n 397.\n\n And in the gulfie mouth of that faire bay,\n Where the proud waues doe wash the towne\u2019s white breast,\n The Spanish nauie ready anchoring lay,\n All mighty ships bound for the Indian east;\n But now for fight themselues they soone addrest,\n With whom twice ten stout gallies did prepare\n \u2019Gainst th\u2019English fleete to trie the chaunce of warre.\n\n 398.\n\n The honour\u2019d peeres, great _Essex_, and his mate\n Renowned _Howard_, Time\u2019s swan-white hair\u2019d sonne,\n Sitting in counsell wisely did debate,\n How by their fleete with best aduantage wonne,\n Against the foes the fight might be begunne;\n For both the castle, forts and towne in sight,\n Did threaten danger in the nauall fight.\n\n 399.\n\n But through the windowes of heauen\u2019s crystall bowres,\n Ioue seeing the foemen\u2019s force so full of dread,\n The citie so well fenc\u2019d with loftie towres;\n The sea with faire ships fill\u2019d, the field ore spread\n With men of armes, that from the towne made head,\n Did send to shield _Elizae\u2019s_ fleete from harmes,\n His braine-borne childe, th\u2019vnconquered queene of armes.\n\n 400.\n\n Who to effect th\u2019Olympian god\u2019s great will,\n About the fleete from ship to ship did flie,\n And with such courage euery heart did fill,\n Inflaming their desires in fight to trie\n The valour of the vaunting enemie,\n That euery one did thirst to trample downe\n The loftie pride of Cadiz towring towne.\n\n 401.\n\n[Sidenote: Now Earle of Suffolk.]\n\n The Norfolke noble duke\u2019s vndaunted sonne,\n Sterne-visag\u2019d like the grim-fac\u2019d god of war,\n As was decreed, the fight at first begun,\n Who to the foes like some disastrous star,\n Or blazing comet did appeare from far;\n Shooting forth fierie beames from his blacke ship,\n Which with the mounting waues did forward skip.\n\n 402.\n\n Each aduerse force to fight drew forth their powers,\n And in a golden morne, when Ph\u0153bus drew\n From off the battlements of Cadize towers,\n The ruddie cheekt Aurorae\u2019s pearlie dew,\n The thundring bullets interchanged flew,\n And either side a glorious day to win,\n With deadly furie did the fight begin.\n\n 403.\n\n The guns, astuns with sounds rebounds from shore\n The souldier\u2019s eares, and death on mischiefe\u2019s back\n Spit from the canon\u2019s mouth with horrid rore\n Flies to and fro in clowdes of pitchie black,\n And 'mongst the valiant men makes spoilefull wrack,\n While either part like lions far\u2019d in fight,\n None feeling seruile feare of death\u2019s afright.\n\n 404.\n\n Thus when stout _Howard_ had begun the fight\n With many more to quell the foemen\u2019s pride,\n The noble _Deuoreux_, that vndaunted knight,\n Who stood asterne his ship and wishly ei\u2019d,\n How deepe the skirmish drew on either side,\n Nere stai\u2019d, as was decreed, to second those\n In the maine fight, but rusht amongst the foes.\n\n 405.\n\n And as we see the sunne sometimes shine cleare\n Amidst the skie, then muffle his bright face\n In sable clouds, and straight againe appeare,\n So famous _Essex_ did applie each place,\n Sometimes incircled round with foes embrace\n He stood in fight, and sometimes seene of all,\n He in the forefront did his foes appall.\n\n 406.\n\n Which when graue _Howard_ view\u2019d from farre well dight\n In noble armes, himselfe he did betake\n Vnto his pinnace with lord _William_ hight,\n His honor\u2019d sonne, and with their powers to make\n The fight more hot, into the presse they brake,\n Where with fresh strength they labour\u2019d to repell\n The foes stout pride, twixt whom the fight grew fell.\n\n 407.\n\n So long as faire Aurorae\u2019s light did shine,\n They equall fought and neither had the best;\n But when the feruent sunne began decline\n From th\u2019hot meridian point and day decreast,\n Feare did inuade each bold Iberian\u2019s brest,\n Who through the danger of the darkesome waue\n Did flie their foes, themselues from death to saue.\n\n 408.\n\n To shun Charybdis iawes, they helplesse fell\n In Scyllae\u2019s gulfe; for after all their braues,\n Being all too weake the English to repell,\n Their ships they left, and leapt into the waues,\n In whose soft bosome many found their graues;\n And lest ought good might to their foes redound,\n They burnt their ships and ran them on the ground.\n\n 409.\n\n The gallies fled, the ships with secret fire\n Inflam\u2019d, did burst to shew their burning light;\n Then from the shore th\u2019Iberians did retire\n Close to their walles, who boasting of their might\n In equall ground before did wish for fight;\n But now beneath their walles scarce made they stand;\n For without fight the victors went on land.\n\n 410.\n\n All from the ships did cluster to the shore,\n Forth marcht the foote, whose hearts emboldned were\n With their late fight, and in the front before\n Great _Essex_ breath\u2019d exhorts in euery eare\n To charge the foes; and not in vaine to beare\n The name of first, but first himselfe to show\n In euery deed, he first did charge the foe.\n\n 411.\n\n With such swift force, as when wilde Neptune raues,\n And ore the shore breaking his wonted bounds,\n Riding in triumph on his winged waues,\n Runnes vnresisted ouer lands and grounds,\n And in his way all in his power confounds;\n So from the fleet at shore went th\u2019English downe\n To charge the foes inranckt before the towne.\n\n 412.\n\n The battels ioyn\u2019d; but by their valour\u2019s might,\n The valiant English in one hower\u2019s space\n Brake through the foe-men\u2019s rankes, who turn\u2019d to flight;\n Did turne their backes and gaue the victors place,\n Who to the towne pursu\u2019d with speedie chace,\n Whose walles th\u2019Iberians flying from the field\n Against their foes did long to make their shield.\n\n 413.\n\n And being entred with confused cries,\n The gates were shut, and in the towne each where,\n A diuers noise about with horror flies;\n Then in the streets thicke troopes of men appeare,\n Some to the gates, some to the walles with feare\n Amazed runne, and euery hold about\n They stuffe with men, to keepe their foe-men out.\n\n 414.\n\n Meane time to triumph in proud Cadiz fall,\n Illustrate _Essex_ did approch the towne,\n Where scaling ladders laid vnto the wall\n Were fill\u2019d with men, who climing for renowne,\n Did hazard death from off the walles cast downe:\n For from th\u2019assault to force them to retire,\n Thicke fell downe darts, huge stones, and dreadfull fire.\n\n 415.\n\n The fearefull cries of men on either side,\n Rung through the towne, as they the walles did scale,\n Not long the bold defendants did abide\n Th\u2019assailants by their prowesse did preuaile,\n The foes gaue backe, their fainting hearts did faile,\n Who left the walles, and through the streets did runne,\n With ruthfull tidings how the walles were wonne.\n\n 416.\n\n Vpon the battlements, the blood red crosse\n Appear\u2019d in sight, and from the walles downe went\n The English troopes, and to the gates did passe,\n Where th\u2019iron barres in sunder they did rent,\n Beate downe the posts, and all the iewses brent,\n And passage wide to them without did win,\n To whom the houses farre appear\u2019d within.\n\n 417.\n\n Then all the host, led by that aged lord,\n The sea\u2019s chiefe admirall, rusht through the gate,\n And through the towne with fierie shot and sword\n Did force their way in euery street and strait,\n Euen to the publike market, where of late\n The foes had purpos\u2019d in the king\u2019s highstreet,\n To make their commons reindeuous to meet.\n\n 418.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir _Iohn Wing_.]\n\n There now the battell fresh againe begun,\n For making head vnto that place, the foe\n To reinforce their strength, in troopes did run,\n While others downe from houses tops did throw\n Ruine and death on th\u2019English bands below,\n Where fighting gainst such ods, they haplesse lost\n Braue _Wingfield_ hight, a leader in the host.\n\n 419.\n\n On whose dissolued life, such deepe remorse\n The English tooke, that all with loud exclaime\n Rusht on th\u2019Iberians bold, and did enforce\n Their speedie flight, then furie did enflame\n The souldiers hearts, and in the bloodie game\n Of raging Mars, remorselesse they were all,\n To wreake reuenge for worthie _Wingfield\u2019s_ fall.\n\n 420.\n\n Like angrie lions rob\u2019d of their deare yong,\n The houses round about they now inuade,\n The portals, posts and thresholds downe are flung,\n The gates and walles of stone so strongly made,\n And doores fast barr\u2019d with earth are leuell made,\n And all high turrets and strong chambers shake\n With th\u2019hot inuading, which the souldiers make.\n\n 421.\n\n The inward roomes are fill\u2019d with wofull sounds,\n And wailing noise of folke in wretched plight,\n The buildings all with larums loud rebounds,\n And women with yong infants in affright,\n Through chambers wide shunning the souldier\u2019s sight,\n Runne heere and there to seeke some couert place,\n To hide themselues from angrie Mars his face.\n\n 422.\n\n About the parent\u2019s knees, the children swarmes,\n Calling in vaine for helpe with pitious cries,\n The spouse fast clips her husband in her armes,\n In whose sad brest his cold heart fainting dies,\n Seeing the armed men before his eies,\n Stand with bright swords in thicke tumultuous croud\n At th\u2019entrie doores, crying out with clamors loud.\n\n 423.\n\n But th\u2019English all, that neuer vse to lift\n Their hands against a yeelding enemie\n By nature milde, not proud of fortune\u2019s gift,\n Did not insult vpon their miserie,\n But with milde hand did vse the victorie,\n And after fight they all abhorring blood,\n Did only tend the spoile of golden good.\n\n 424.\n\n Both the braue generals, by a strict command\n About the towne, this mercie did proclaime,\n That none thenceforth should vse the force of hand,\n Nor offer wrong to any virgin dame,\n That would sweet beautie keepe from lustfull shame,\n Which vnreprou\u2019d edict amongst all men,\n Through th\u2019English host inuiolate hath been.\n\n 425.\n\n Amongst the captiues not the basest mate\n With any sad designe they vexed sore,\n The female sex vntoucht inuiolate\n Did freely passe with all that golden store\n Of chaines, and gemmes which they about them bore,\n And all religious folke did find like grace,\n Free without ransome to depart the place.\n\n 426.\n\n Thrice valiant victors, euer may my rimes\n Suruiue on earth, that in their life may liue\n This famous conquest to all future times,\n That from the best, that for true praise do striue,\n All men to you the laurell wreath may giue,\n Which that milde mercie, which you then did show,\n Doth more deserue then conquest gainst the foe.\n\n 427.\n\n After the souldier had return\u2019d from spoile\n Loaden with riches of the ransackt towne,\n To yeeld fit compensation to the toile\n Of each man\u2019s paines, with fauour or renowne,\n The generals did each souldier\u2019s merit crowne,\n And gaue to many a well deseruing wight\n That noble order of true martiall knight.\n\n 428.\n\n That noble order, which in antique time\n In top of fame\u2019s high tower tooke chiefest place,\n To which by vertue valour\u2019s steps did clime;\n Was then no base mind\u2019s meed, that nere had grace\n T\u2019ensue fame\u2019s feeting in true vertue\u2019s race;\n Though now the aged world to dotage growne,\n This noble order scarce is truly knowne.\n\n 429.\n\n But now to sing the spoile and last decay\n Of that faire towne by her owne folke forlorne,\n The host all readie to depart away,\n Intending first in funerall flames to burne\n Her fatall pride, and all her pompe oreturne,\n Did in thicke concourse cluster to confound,\n Her high top towers and eu\u2019n them with the ground.\n\n 430.\n\n In number like the golden flowers in spring,\n In forme like furies of the Stygian caue:\n The souldiers high on houses tops do fling\n Their burning brands, and round do range and raue,\n To burie that faire towne in ashie graue,\n While hungrie flames borne vp on golden wings,\n Flies through the aire, and far their splendor flings.\n\n 431.\n\n Then the faire wals inricht with painting\u2019s grace,\n And portals proud of gold are all cast downe,\n Sterne Mulciber in his bright armes embrace\n Doth graspe the towres, and on th\u2019inflamed towne\n Through rolling clouds of smoake doth sternely frowne;\n Whose fierce fiers climing houses far away,\n By foes are seene to worke the towne\u2019s decay.\n\n 432.\n\n Thus burnt Spaine\u2019s Cadiz fam\u2019d for that faire place,\n Where great Alcides, when his sword did tame\n The triple Gerion borne of tyrant\u2019s race,\n Did fixe his pillars t\u2019eternize his name,\n With _ne plus vltra_ grauen on the same;\n Thus did it burne captiu\u2019d in English yoke,\n And all her fame lay stifled in the smoke.\n\n 433.\n\n After the spoile, exchange of captiues made\n For those, that Spaine had long captiu\u2019d before,\n Each souldier\u2019s prize aboard the fleet conuei\u2019d,\n Leauing the towne despoil\u2019d of all her store,\n All made returne vnto the ships at shore;\n At whose depart such after-signe was seene,\n As had before at their arriuall been.\n\n 434.\n\n[Sidenote: Recorded by the Author then present.]\n\n For hoysing saile at sea, loe as before\n Vpon the Arke a doue her flight did stay,\n With which departing from th\u2019Iberian shore,\n She from the same departed not away;\n But kept her station till that happie day,\n That all the fleet did with the compleat hoast\n Arriue in triumph on the English coast.\n\n 435.\n\n Thus when vpon _Elizae\u2019s_ royall brow,\n Time\u2019s honor\u2019d age in print had set his signe,\n Euen then her arme Spaine\u2019s stiffened pride did bow\n And when her youthfull daies did most decline,\n Then did the King of heau\u2019n to her assigne\n The euer youthfull wreath of sacred bay,\n In signe of triumph to her liue\u2019s last day.\n\n 436.\n\n The vtmost kingdomes canopi\u2019d of skie,\n Did beare record of her triumphant fame,\n The vastest ocean, that did farthest lie,\n With each small creeke and hauen in the same,\n Did then resound the praises of her name:\n Which to her friend\u2019s defence, her foemen feare,\n Her crosse-crown\u2019d fleet about the world did beare.\n\n 437.\n\n For all sea-bordering townes, that subiect were\n Vnto the crowne of Rome-supporting Spaine,\n Who high their breasts aboue the wanes did beare,\n Did tremble to behold the crookt stern\u2019d traine\n Of English ships still floating on the maine;\n For towards the sea\u2019s greene bounds they often bore,\n And many townes destroy\u2019d vpon the shore.\n\n 438.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno eodem 38._]\n\n Renowned _Clifford_ on the fruitfull deepe\n Like Joue-borne Perseus, that illustrate knight,\n In his swift Pegasus, the seas did sweepe,\n And after many a prize surpriz\u2019d in fight,\n To make the land record his powerfull might,\n He at that time with his triumphant host,\n Got noble conquest on the Indian coast.\n\n 439.\n\n Fortune with fame his high attempts did crowne,\n And his dread name the foes with feare did fright,\n Saint _Iohn de Porta Rico_ that strong towne,\n And her faire castle, which did seeme in sight\n Impregnable gainst all assaults in fight,\n His hands to heapes of fruitlesse dust did burne,\n And with her spoile he home did safe returne.\n\n 440.\n\n The valiant English still did worke much woe\n Vnto the foemen both on seas and land,\n _Eliza_ still did triumph ore the foe,\n And day by day vpon the English strand\n Arriu\u2019d rich prize surpriz\u2019d by force of hand,\n Whereby th\u2019Iberian folke made poore and bare,\n In heart did curse the causer of the warre.\n\n 441.\n\n But leaue we heere of forren deeds to sing,\n And turne we home at sound of those alarms,\n Which on thy shores, O England, high did ring;\n And let vs waile, alas, the wofull harmes,\n Which did befall that valiant man of armes,\n Who after all his glorie and renowne,\n Beneath too hard a fate felt fortune\u2019s frowne.\n\n 442.\n\n _Tyrone_ that traytor, from whose treacherie\n The first chiefe cause of his annoy did spring,\n Disloyall to _Elizae\u2019s_ maiestie;\n Had now begun to set the war on wing\n On th\u2019Irish coast, whose townes and plaines did ring\n With sad report of bloodie actions done,\n By the bold rebels and the base _Tyrone_.\n\n 443.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. Reg. 41._]\n\n Tidings whereof to England\u2019s rockie bound,\n Borne ore the ocean\u2019s backe on wings of winde,\n The shores with Mars his rugged voice did sound,\n And noble _Essex_ generall was assign\u2019d\n To crosse the fruitfull deepe, whose honor\u2019d minde\n Did wing him forward with desire of fame,\n On earth to purchase an immortall name.\n\n 444.\n\n Yet towards the coast when he this iourney tooke,\n The king of flames that with delight did crowne\n All that faire day before, did change his looke,\n The heau\u2019ns did thunder loud, the clouds did frowne,\n And in the way Joue cast pale lightning downe,\n Presaging sad euent of things to come,\n Which tooke effect at his returning home.\n\n 445.\n\n At his returning home, when his deare dame\n The great _Eliza_, with maiesticke frowne\n Gan change milde looks, when fortune foe to fame\n Did turne her wheele about, and hurring downe\n His towring state, all hope of life did drowne\n In death\u2019s deepe waues, whose most vntimely end\n Both heau\u2019n and earth lamenting did befriend.\n\n 446.\n\n For that blacke morne, when he without appall\n To lose his life vnto the blocke was led,\n The sunne in heau\u2019n, as for his Phaeton\u2019s fall,\n In sable clouds did hide his golden hed,\n And from so sad a sight away he fled;\n While wofull heau\u2019n with dolefull teares sent downe,\n For his sad fall the world in woe did drowne.\n\n 447.\n\n He being dead, being dead, alas, and gone,\n That hopefull lord, hight _Mountioy_, did succeed\n As generall in the warre against _Tyrone_;\n To whom all-seeing Joue tooke speciall heed,\n And did direct his hand in euery deed,\n Who would not haue _Elizae\u2019s_ vnstain\u2019d praise,\n Distain\u2019d by rebels in her aged daies.\n\n 448.\n\n For what hath she in her affaires decreed,\n Euen to her royall liue\u2019s last breathing space,\n In which Joue did not euer grace her deed,\n Yea now when ripe yeares rugged prints had place\n Vpon the fore-front of her princely face,\n Then did her gratious God with compleat praise,\n Perfect the vpshot of her aged daies.\n\n 449.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno eodem 42._\n\nGrimestone _in his translation of the booke of the warres of the\nNetherlands_.]\n\n The happie Belgians on the marine coast,\n In a pight field against a prince of name,\n In person fighting 'midst his royall host,\n Did purchase conquest, captiues, gold and fame,\n By th\u2019only aid which from _Eliza_ came:\n Without whose helpe on which their hopes did build,\n All had been lost, the foes had won the field.\n\n 450.\n\n For when the Austrian prince on Newport Sands,\n After the slaughter of the valiant Scot,\n Had giuen charge vpon the aduerse bands,\n When by thicke volleyes of their murdring shot,\n Many stout men had drawne death\u2019s fatall lot;\n Then many Belgians fainting fled away,\n And left their friends to win or lose the day.\n\n 451.\n\n 'Mongst whom the English chiefely did sustaine\n The furious brunt of that important fight,\n Where many worthie men were helplesse slaine,\n Who rather chose to make that day the night\n Of death\u2019s approch, then turne their backs for flight;\n Who all had fallen by death without remorse,\n Had not the _Veres_ renew\u2019d their fainting force.\n\n 452.\n\n For the bold brothers both the valiant _Veres_,\n Deepe wounds did purchase to regaine the day,\n The one breath\u2019d comfort in the souldiers eares,\n While th\u2019other through the foes with violent sway\n Of his horse troopes did force a dreadfull way,\n Through which the Belgians that before had fled,\n Might \u2019gainst the fainting foes againe make head.\n\n 453.\n\n The foemen fled, the ground was stro\u2019d with harmes\n Of their mishap, their duke fled fast away,\n Leauing his horse of honour and his armes\n Vnto the victors to remaine for ay,\n As signes of conquest and that glorious day,\n Which by _Elizae\u2019s_ auxilarie traine,\n Then agents there the Belgians did obtaine.\n\n 454.\n\n Thus to the life of our triumphant dame\n Time in her reigne no yeere did multiplie,\n Which fortune did not dignifie with fame,\n Or praise of some illustrate victorie;\n \u2019Gainst Rome, \u2019gainst Spaine, or th\u2019Austrian enemie,\n \u2019Gainst whom that houre that she expir\u2019d her breath,\n She di\u2019d victorious in the armes of death.\n\n 455.\n\n[Sidenote: _Anno Reg. 43, 44._]\n\n For when the Austrian duke with his proud hoast,\n Atrides-like laid siege to little Troy,\n And by a solemne vow did vainely boast,\n Not to depart vntill he did destroy\n That English towne; yet to his owne annoy,\n He there did lie while th\u2019horses of the sunne,\n Their yeare\u2019s race thrice about the heauen had runne.\n\n 456.\n\n For England\u2019s _Hector_ and his valiant brother,\n That time\u2019s young _Troylus_ did the duke appall,\n And his best hopes in blood and dust did smother;\n Yea many a thousand at that siege did fall\n In death\u2019s blacke graue before the towne\u2019s strong wall,\n Which while the Belgian patronesse did liue,\n Vnto the foes in fight the foile did giue.\n\n 457.\n\n And as our queene in forraine-bred debate,\n From hence to heauen victorious tooke her flight,\n So here at home before her liue\u2019s last date,\n Triumphant sounds of belles the starres did smite,\n And bright bon-fiers the darkesome euen did light\n With gladsome flames for worthy victorie,\n Atchieu\u2019d against the Irish enemie.\n\n 458.\n\n[Sidenote: _An. eodem._]\n\n Yea, when the hand of vnremorsefull fate,\n Had euen spun out the thred of her liue\u2019s clew,\n _Tyron_, that long disturber of her state,\n With shame of his offence remorsefull grew,\n And on his knees did then for mercie sue:\n That dying, she might say with vading breath,\n I left no foes vnuanquisht at my death.\n\n 459.\n\n But woe, alas, the dust-borne pompe of earth,\n Made thrall to death, returnes to dust againe;\n All vnder heauen, that haue their beeing and breath\n Of nature\u2019s gift, no longer doe remaine,\n Then nature doth their brittle state sustaine,\n The prince and swaine to death are both alike,\n No ods are found when he with dart doth strike.\n\n 460.\n\n For I, that whilome sung with cheerefull breath\n Her roiall reigne, whose like no age hath seene,\n Now cannot sing; but weepe to thinke how death,\n All pitilesse of what before had beene,\n Did rob poore England of so rich a queene;\n And if I sing, I must in my sad song,\n Exclaime on death for doing vs such wrong.\n\n 461.\n\n For doing vs such wrong to dim the light\n Of England\u2019s virgin glorie then decaid,\n Which, while heauen\u2019s light the earth\u2019s broade face shall smite,\n All virgins shall admire and still vpbraid\n That _Tarquin_ death, with death of such a maide:\n For her, whose virgin blood no _Tarquin\u2019s_ staine,\n Did euer taint, O death, thy dart hath slaine.\n\n 462.\n\n[Sidenote: Thursday.]\n\n That day shee di\u2019d, which to her roiall sire,\n To great _Plantagenet_ hath fatall been;\n That day, when fates did his sad death conspire:\n That day when his young _Edward_ dead was seene,\n That day when _Mary_ left to be a queene:\n That day from vs did our _Eliza_ goe,\n That day, that tyrant death did worke our woe.\n\n 463.\n\n But why do we \u2019gainst death vse such complaint,\n Seeing not in youth, then short of yeares to crowne\n Her head with age, she di\u2019de by death\u2019s constraint,\n But ripe in yeares, and loaden with renowne;\n Made mellow for the graue, she lai\u2019d her downe:\n And leauing earth that part, which earth had giuen,\n On faith\u2019s strong wings she tooke her flight for heauen.\n\n Heere Clio ceast, her lute no more did sound,\n But in a moment mounting from the ground,\n She vanisht from my sight, and with her fled\n The place of pleasure which mine eyes had fed;\n With which all had been lost, if in minde,\n My dreame\u2019s Id\u00e6a had not stai\u2019d behinde.\n\n\n FINIS.\n\n\n END OF PART V.\n\n\n VOLUME THE LAST.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s Notes\n\nObvious typos have been corrected. All other spelling and punctuation\nremains unchanged.\n\nThe table of contents has been copied from Vol II, Part I, for the\nconvenience of the reader.\n\nItalics are represented thus _italic_, superscripts thus y^n,\nsubscripts as y_{n}.","title":"Mirror for Magistrates, Volume 2, Part 2","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":89642}