liue Now stand they like the two starre-fixed Poles Betwixt the which the circling Spheres doe moue About whose Axeltree thys fayre Globe roules VVhich that great Moouer by his strength doth shoue Yet euery poynt still ending in theyr loue For might is euer absolute alone VVhen of two powers there's true coniunction The King must take what by theyr power they giue And they protect what serues for theyr protection They teach to rule whilst he doth learne to liue T' whom all be subiect liues in theyr subiection Though borne to rule yet crown'd by their election Th'alegiance which to Edward doth belong Doth make theyr faction absolutely strong Twelue guide the King his power theyr powers consist Peers guide the King they guide both King and Peers Ill can the Brooke his owne selfe-streame resist Theyr aged counsell to his younger yeeres Young Edward vowes and all the while he steers VVel might we think the man were more then blind VVhich wanted Sea roomth and could rule the wind In lending strength theyr strength they still retaine Building his force theyr owne they so repare Vnder his raigne in safety they doe raigne They giue a kingdome and doe keepe the care They who aduenture must the booty share A Princes wealth in spending still doth spred Like to a Poole with many fountaines fed They sit at ease though he sit in the throne He shaddowes them who his supporters be And in diuision they be two for one An Empyre now must thus berul'd by three VVhat they make free they challenge to be free The King enioyeth but what they lately gaue They priuiledg'd to spend leaue him to saue Nine-score braue Knights belonging to his Court At Notingham which all the Coast commaunds All parts pay trybute honor to his port Much may he doe which hath so many hands This rocke-built Castell ouer-looks the Lands Thus lyke a Gyant still towards heauen doth ryse And fayne would cast the Rocks against the skyes VVhere ere he goes there pompe in tryumph goes Ouer his head Fame soring still doth flye Th'earth in his presence decks her selfe in showes And glory sits in greatest Maiestie Aboundance there doth still in Child-bed lye For where Fortune her bountie will bestowe There heauen and earth must pay what she doth owe. In Notingham the Norths great glorious eye Crowne of the beautious branch-embellish'd soyle The throne emperiall of his Emperie His resting place releeuer of his â—oyle Here he enioyes his neuer-prized spoyle There lyuing in a world of all delight Beheld of all and hauing all in sight Here all along the flower-enameld vales Cleere Trent vpon the pearly sand doth slide And to the Meadowes telling wanton tales Her christall lims lasciuiously in pride VVith thousand turnes shee casts from side to side As loth shee were the sweet soyle to forsake And throw her selfe into the German lake VVhence great hart-harboring Sherwood wildly roues VVhose leauie Forrests garlanding her Towers Shadowing the small Brooks with her Ecchoing groues vvhose thick-plashd sides repulse the Northerne showers VVhere Nature sporting in her secret Bowers This strong built Castell hurketh in her shade As to this end she onely had beene made There must the glorious Parliament be held Earth must come in when awfull heauen doth send For whether Ioue his powerfull selfe doth weld Thether all powers them selues must wholly bend VVhose hand holds thunder who dare him offend And where proud conquest keepeth all in awe Kings oft are forc'd in seruile yokes to drawe Heere sit they both vnder the rich estate Yet neither striue the vpper hand to get In pompe and power both equall at a rate And as they came so are they friendly set He entreth first which first in entring met A King at least the Earle of March must be Or else the maker of a King is hee Perhaps he with a smyle the King will grace His knees growe stiffe they haue forgot to bow And if he once haue taken vp his place Edward must come if he his will would know A foote out of his seate he cannot goe Thys small word subiect pricks him like a sting My Empyres Colleage or my fellow King O had felicity feeling of woe Or could on meane but moderatly seede Or would looke downe the way that he must goe Or could abstaine from what diseases breede To stop the wound before to death he bleede VVarre should not fill Kings Pallaces with moane Nor perrill come when tis least thought vpon Ambition with the Eagle loues to build Nor on the Mountayne dreads the winters blast But with selfe-soothing doth the humor guild VVith arguments correcting what is past Fore-casting Kingdomes daungers vnforecast Leauing this poore word of content to such VVhose earthly spirits haue not his fierie â—uch But pleasures neuer dine but on excesse VVhose dyet made to drawe on all delight And ouercome in that sweet drunkennes His appetite maintayned by his sight Strengthneth desier but euer weakneth might Vntill this vlcer ripening to a head Vomits the poyson which it nourished Euen as a flood swelling beyond his bounds Doth ouer-presse the channell where he flowd And breaking forth the neighbour Meadows drowns That of him selfe him selfe doth quite vnload Dispearcing his owne greatnes all abroad Spending the store he was maintayned by Empties his Brooke and leaues his Channell dry Vpon this Subiect enuie might deuise Here might she prooue her mischeese-working wings An obiect for her euer-waking eyes VVherein to stick a thousand deadly stings A ground whereon to build as many things For where our actions measure no regard Our lawlesse will is made his owne reward Here vengeance calls destruction vp from hell Coniuring mischeese to deuise a curse Increasing that which more and more did swell Adding to ill to make this euill worse VVhilst hatefull pride becomes ambitions nurse T'is incedent to those whom many feare Many to them more greeuous hate doe beare And now those fewe which many tears had spent And long had wept on olde King Edwards graue Find some begin to pittie their lament VVishing the poore yet some redresse might haue Reuenge cannot denie what death doth craue Opening their cares what so abhord their eyes Ill will too soone regardeth enuies cryes Time calls account of what before is past All thrust on mallice pressing to be hard Vnto misfortune all men goe too fast Seldome aduantage is in wrongs debard Nor in reuenge a meane is neuer spard For when once pryde but poynteth towards his fall He bears a sword to wound him selfe with all Edward whose shoulders now were taught to peyze Briarius burthen which opprest him so His current stop'd with these outragious Seas VVhose gulfe receau'd the tyde should make him flowe This Rocke cast in the way where he must goe That honor brooks no fellowship hath tryde Nor neuer Crowne Corriuall could abyde Some vrge that March meaning by blood to rise First cut off Kent fearing he might succeed Trayning the King to what he did deuise
most should make it lesse Heere noble Herford Bohun breathes his last Crowne of true Knight-hood flower of Chiualrie But Lancaster their torment liues to tast VVho perrish now with endlesse obloquie O vanquisht conquest loosing victorie That where the sword for pittie leaues to spill There extreame iustice should begin to kill O subiect for some tragick Muse to sing Of fiue great Earledomes at one time possest Sonne Vnckle Brother Grandchild to a King VVith fauours friends and earthly honours blest But see on earth heere is no place of rest These Fortunes gyfts and she to shew her power Takes lyfe and these and all within an hower The wretched Mother tearing of her hayre Bewayles the time this fatall warre begunne Lyke graue-borne gosts amaz'd and mad with feare To view the quartered carkasse of her Sonne VVith hideous shreeks through streetes wayes doth runne And seeing none to help none heare her crye Some drownd some stabd some starud some strangled die Lyke gastly death the aged Father stands VVeeping his Sonne bemoning of his vvife Shee murthered by her owne blood-guiltie hands Hee flaughtered by the executioners knife Sadly sits downe to ende his hatefull life Banning the earth and cursing at the ayre Vpon his poyniard falleth in dispayre The wofull widdowe for her Lord distrest VVhose breathlesse body cold death doth benum Her little Infant leaning on her breast Rings in her eares when will my Father come Doth wish that she were deafe or it were dombe Clipping each other weeping both togeather Shee for her Lord the poore babe for his Father The ayre is poysned with the dampie stinck VVhich most contagious pestilence doth breed The glutted earth her fill of gore doth drinck VVhich from vnburied bodies doth proceede Rauens and dogs on dead men onely feede In euery Coast thus doe our eyes behold Our sinnes by iudgement of the heauens controld Lyke as a VVolfe returning from the foyle Hauing full stuft his flesh-engorged panch Tumbles him downe to wallowe in the soyle VVith cooling breath his boyling mawe to stanch Scarce able now to mooue his lustlesse hanch Thus after slaughter Edward breathlesse stood As though his sword had surfeted with blood Heere endeth life yet heere death cannot end And heere begins what Edwards woes begun Nor his pretence falls as he doth pretend Nor hath he wone what he by battell wone All is not done though almost all vndone VVhilst power hath raign'd still policie did lurke Seldome doth mallice want a meane to worke The King now by the conquering Lords consent VVho by this happie victorie grew strong Summons at Yorke a present Parliament To plant his right and helpe the Spensers wrong From whence agayne his minions greatnes sprung VVhose counsell still in all their actions crost Th'inraged Queene whom all misfortunes tost But miseries which seldome come alone Thicke in the necks one of another fell Meane while the Scots heere make inuasion And Charles of France doth thence our powers expell The grieued Commons more and more rebell Mischiefe on mischiefe curse doth followe curse Plague after plague and worse ensueth worse For Mortimer this wind yet rightly blewe Darckning their eyes which else perhaps might see VVhilst Isabell who all aduantage knewe Is closely plotting his deliuerie Now fitly drawne by Torltons policie Thus by a Queene a Bishop and a Knight To check a King in spight of all dispight A drowsie potion shee by skill hath made VVhose secret working had such wonderous power As could the sence with heauie sleepe inuade And mortifie the patient in one hower As though pale death the body did deuower Nor for two dayes might opened be his eyes By all meanes Arte or Phisicke could deuise Thus sits this great Enchauntresse in her Cell Inuironed with spyrit-commaunding charmes Her body censed with most sacred smell VVith holy fiers her liquors now shee warmes Then her with sorcering instruments she armes And from her hearbs the powerfull iuyce she wrong To make the poyson forcible and strong Reason might iudge doubts better might aduise And as a woman feare her hand haue stayd VVaying the strangenesse of the interprize The daunger well might haue her sex dismayd Fortune distrust suspect to be betrayd But when they leaue of vertue to esteeme They greatly erre which thinke them as they seeme Their plighted fayth when as they list they leaue Their loue is cold their lust hote hote their hate VVith smiles and teares these Serpents doe deceaue In their desires they be insatiate Their will no bound and their reuenge no date All feare exempt where they at ruine ayme Couering their sinne with their discouered shame Medea pittifull in tender yeares Vntill with Iason she would take her flight Then mercilesse her Brothers lymmes she teares Betrayes her Father flyes away by night Nor Nations Seas nor daungers could affright VVho dyed with heate nor could abide the wind Now like a Tigar falls vnto her kind Now waits the Queene fitt'st time as might behoue Their ghostly Father for their speed must pray Their seruants seale these secrets vp with loue Their friends must be the meane the guide the way And he resolue on whom the burthen lay This is the summe the all if this neglected Neuer againe were meane to be expected Thus while hee liu'd a prysoner in the Towre The Keepers oft with feasts he entertaind VVhich as a stale serues fitly at this howre The tempting bayte wher-with his hookes were traind 〈◊〉 banquet now he had ordaind And after cates when they their thirst should quench He sawc'd their wine with thys approoued drench And thus become the keeper of the kayes In steele-bound locks he safely lodg'd the Guard Then lurking forth by the most secret wayes Not now to learne his compasse by the Card VVith corded ladders which hee had prepard Now vp these proude aspyring walls doth goe VVhich seeme to scorne they should be mastred so They soundly sleepe now must his wits awake A second Theseus through a hells extreames The sonne of Ioue new toyles must vndertake Of walls of gates of watches woods and streame And let them tell King Edward of their dreames For ere they wak'd out of this brainsick traunce He hopes to tell thys noble iest in Fraunce The sullen night in mistie rugge is wrapp'd Powting the day had tarryed vp so long The Euening in her darksome dungion clapp'd And in that place the swarty clowdes were hong Downe from the VVest the half-fac'd Cynthia flong As shee had posted forth to tell the Sonne VVhat in his absence in her Court was done The glymmering starr's like Sentinels in warre Behind the Clowdes as thieues doe stand to pry And through false loope-holes looking out a farre To see him skirmish with his destenie As they had held a counsell in the Sky And had before consulted with the night Shee should be darke and they would hide their light In deadly silence all the shores are hush'd Onely the Shreechowle sounds to the assault And Isis
helpe the Land the while All prysons freed to make all mischiefes free Traytors and Rebels called from exile All things be lawfull but what lawfull bee Nothing our owne but our owne infamie Death which ends care yet carelesse of our death VVho steales our ioyes but stealeth not our breath London which didst thys mischiefe first begin Loe now I come thy tragedy to tell Thou art the first thats plagued for this sin VVhich first didst make the entrance to this hell Now death and horror in thy walls must dwell VVhich should'st haue care thy selfe in health to keepe Thus turn'st the vvolues amongst the carelesse sheepe O had I eyes another Thames to weepe Or words expressing more then words expresse O could my teares thy great foundation steepe To moane thy pride thy wastfull vaine excesse Thy gluttonie thy youthfull wantonnesse But t'is thy sinnes that to the heauens are fled Dissoluing clowdes of vengeance on thy head The place prophan'd where God should be adord The stone remou'd whereon our faith is grounded Aucthoritie is scornd counsell abhord Religion so by foolish sects confounded VVeake consciences by vaine questions wounded The honour due to Magistrates neglected VVhat else but vengeance can there be expected VVhen fayth but faynd a faith doth onely fayne And Church-mens liues giue Lay-men leaue to fall The Ephod made a cloake to couer gayne Cunning auoyding what's canonicall Yet holines the Badge to beare out all VVhen sacred things be made a merchandize None talke of texts then ceaseth prophicies VVhen as the lawes doe once peruert the lawes And weake opinion guides the common weale VVhere doubts should cease doubts rise in euery clawse The sword which wounds should be a salue to heale Oppression vvorks oppression to conceale Yet being vs'd when needfull is the vse Right clokes all wrongs and couers all abuse Tempestious thunders teare the fruitlesse earth The roring Ocean past her bounds to rise Death-telling apparisions monstrous birth Th'affrighted heauen with comet-glaring eyes The ground the ayre all fild with prodigies Fearefull eclipses fierie vision And angrie Planets in coniunction Thy channels serue for inke for paper stones And on the ground write murthers incests rapes And for thy pens a heape of dead-mens bones Thy letters vgly formes and monstrous shapes And when the earths great hollow concaue gapes Then sinke them downe least shee we liue vpon Doe leaue our vse and flye subiection Virgine but Virgine onely in thy name Now for thy sinne what murtherer shall be spent Blacke is my inke but blacker is thy shame VVho shall reuenge my Muse can but lament VVith hayre disheueld words and tears halfe spent Poore rauish'd Lucrece stands to end her lyfe VVhlist cruell Tarquin whets the angrie knyfe Thou wantst redresse and tyrannie remorce And sad suspition dyes thy fault in graine Compeld by force must be repeld by force Complaints no pardon penance helpes not payne But blood must vvash out a more bloody stayne To winne thine honour with thy losse of breath Thy guiltlesse lyfe with thy more guiltie death Thou art benumd thou canst not feele at all Plagues be thy pleasures feare hath made past feare The deadly sound of sinnes nile-thundering fall Hath tuned horror setled in thine eare Shreeks be the sweetest Musicke thou canst heare Armes thy attyer and weapons all thy good And all the wealth thou hast consist in blood See wofull Cittie on thy ruin'd wall The verie Image of thy selfe heere see Read on thy gates in charrecters thy fall In famish'd bodies thine Anatomie How like to them thou art they like to thee And if thy teares haue dim'd thy hatefull sight Thy buildings are one fier to giue thee light For world that was a wofull is complayne VVhen men might haue been buried when they dyed VVhen Children might haue in their cradels layne VVhen as a man might haue enioy'd his bride The Sonne kneeld by his Fathers death-bed side The lyuing wrongd the dead no right now haue The Father sees his Sonne to vvant a graue The poore Samarian almost staru'd for food Yet sawced her sweet Infants flesh with tears But thou in child vvith murther long'st for blood VVhich thy wombe wanting casts the fruite it bears Thy viperous brood their lothsome prison teyrs Thou drinkst thy gore out of a dead-mans scull Thy stomack hungry though thy gorge be full Is all the world in sencelesse slaughter dround No pittying hart no hand no eye no eare None holds his sword from ripping of the wound No sparke of pittie nature loue nor feare Be all so mad that no man can forbeare VVill you incur the cruell Neros blame Thus to discouer your owne Mothers shame The man who of the plague yet rauing lyes Heares yeelding gosts to giue their latest grone And from his carefull window nought espyes But dead-mens bodies others making moane No talke but Death and execution Poore silly women from their houses fled Crying ô helpe my husbands murthered Thames turne thee backe to Belgias frothie mayne Fayre Tame and Isis hold backe both your springs Nor on thy London spread thy siluer trayne Nor let thy Ships lay forth their silken wings Thy shores with Swans late dying Dirgies rings Nor in thy armes let her imbraced bee Nor smile on her which sadly weepes on thee Time end thy selfe here let it not be sayd That euer Death did first begin in thee Nor let this slaunder to thy fault be layd That ages charge thee with impietie Least feare what hath beene argue what may be And fashioning so a habite of the mind Make men no men and alter humaine kind But yet this outrage hath but taken breath For pittie past she meanes to make amends And more enrag'd she doth returne to death And next goes downe King Edward and his frends VVhat she hath hoarded now she franckly spends In such strange action as was neuer seene Clothing reuenge in habite of a Queene Now Stapleton's thy turne from France that fled The next the lot vnto the Spensers fell Reding the Marshall marshal'd with the dead Next is thy turne great Earle of Arundell Then Mochelden and wofull Daniell VVho followed him in his lasciuious wayes Must goe before him to his blackest dayes Carnaruan by his Countrie-men betrayd And sent a Prisoner from his natiue Land To Knelworth poore King he is conuayd To th'Earle of Leister with a mighty band And now a present Parliament in hand Fully concluding what they had begunne T'vncrowne King Edward and inuest his Sonne A scepter's lyke a pillar of great height VVhereon a mighty building doth depend VVhich when the same is ouer-prest with weight And past his compasse forc'd therby to bend His massie roofe down to the ground doth send Crushing the lesser props and murthering all VVhich stand within the compasse of his fall VVhere vice is countenanc'd with nobilitie Arte cleane excluded ignorance held in Blinding the world with mere hipocrisie Yet must be sooth'd in all their slauish sinne Great malcontents to growe they