How _George Plantagenet_, third sonne of_Mirror for Magistrates, Volume 2, Part 1

of Yorke, was by his brother King _Edward_

wrongfully imprisoned, and by his

brother _Richard_ miserably

murdered the 11 of Jan.

An. 1478.[1162]

The foule is fowle, men say, that files the nest:

Which makes me loth to speke now, might I chuse,

But seyng time vnburdened hath her brest,

And fame blowne vp the blast of all abuse,

My silence rather might my life accuse

Than shroude our shame, though fayne I would it so,

For truth will out, although the world say no.

And therefore, _Baldwine_, hartely I[1163] thee beseche

To pause a while vpon my heauy playnt,

And vnneth though[1164] I vtter speedy speche,

No fault of wit nor folly makes[1165] mee faynt:

No heady drinkes haue gieuen my tongue attaint

Through quaffing craft: yet wine my witts confound,

Not of which I dranke,[1166] but wherein I drownd.[1167]

What prince I am, although I neede not shewe,

Because my wine betrayes mee by the smell:

For neuer creature was[1168] soust in _Bacchus_ dew

To death, but I, through fortune’s rigour fell:

Yet that thou maist my story better tell,

I will declare as briefly as I may,

My welth, my woe, and causers of decay.

The famous house surnamde _Plantagenet_,

Whereat dame fortune frowardly did frowne,

While _Bolenbroke_ vniustly sought to set

His lord king _Richard_ quite beside the crowne,

Though many a day it wanted due renowne,

God so preserved[1169] by prouidence and grace,

That lawfull heyres did neuer fayle the race.

For _Lionell_, king _Edwarde’s_ eldest childe,[1170]

Both eame[1171] and heyr to _Richard_ yssulesse,

Begot a daughter _Phillip_, whom[1172] vndefilde[1173]

The earle of _March_ espousde, and God did blesse

With fruite assinde the kingdom to possesse:

I meane syr _Roger Mortimer_, whose heyre,

The earle of _Cambridge_, maried _Anne_ the fayre.

This earle of _Cambridge_, _Richard_ clept by name,

Was sonne to _Edmund Langley_ duke of _Yorke_:

Which _Edmund_ was fift brother to the same

Duke _Lionell_, that all this lyne doth korke:

Of which two howses ioyned in a forke,

My father _Richard_, prince _Plantagenet_,

True duke of _Yorke_, was lawfull heyr beget.

Who tooke to wife as yee shall vnderstand

A mayden of a noble house and olde,

_Raulfe Neuil’s_ daughter, earle of _Westmerland_,

Whose sonne earle _Richard_, was a baron bolde,

And had the right of _Salisbury_ in holde,

Through mariage made with good earle _Thomas_ heyre,

Whose earned prayses neuer shall appayre.

The duke my father had by this his wife

Four sonnes, of whom the eldest _Edward_ hight,

The second _Eadmund_, who [in youth] did loose his life,[1174]

At _Wakefielde_ slayne by _Clyfford_ cruell knight:

I _George_ am third, of _Clarence_ duke by right:

The fourth, borne to the mischiefe of vs all,

Was duke of _Glocester_,[1175] whom men did[1176] _Richard_ call.

Whan as our sire in sute of right was slaine,

(Whose life and death himselfe declared earst)

My brother _Edward_ plyed his cause amayne,[1177]

And got[1178] the crowne, as _Warwicke_ hath rehearst:

The pride whereof so deepe his stomacke pearst

That hee forgot his friendes, dispisde his kin,

Of oth or office passing not a pyn.[1179]

10.

Which made the earle of _Warwicke_ to maligne

My brother’s state,[1180] and to attempt a way

To bring from prison _Henry_, seely king,

To helpe him to the kingdome[1181] if hee may,

And knowing mee to bee the chiefest stay

My brother had, hee did mee vndermine

To cause mee to his treasons to encline.[1182]

11.

Whereto I was prepared long before,

My brother had beene to mee so vnkinde:

For sure no cankar fretteth flesh so sore,[1183]

As vnkinde dealing doth a louing minde:

Loue’s strongest bandes vnkindnes doth vnbinde,

It moueth loue to malice, zeale to hate,

Chiefe friendes to foes, and brethren to debate.

12.

And though the earle of _Warwicke_, subtile sire

Perceiude I bare a grudge against my brother,

Yet toward his feate to set mee more on fire,

Hee kindled vp one firebrand with another:

For knowing fancy was the forcing rother

Which stirreth youth to any kinde of strife,

Hee offered mee his daughter to my wife.

13.

Where through, and with his crafty filed tongue,

Hee stale my heart that earst vnsteady was,

For I was witlesse, wanton, fond and yong,

Whole bent to pleasure, brittle as the glasse,

I can not lye, _In vino veritas_:

I did esteeme the bewty of my bryde

Aboue my selfe, and all the world beside.

14.

These fond affections ioynd with lacke of skill,

(Which trap the heart, and blind the eyes of youth,

And pricke the minde to practise any ill)

So tickled mee, that voyde of kindly truth,

(Which if it want all wretchednes[1184] ensueth)

I stinted not to persecute my brother,

Til time hee left his kingdom to another.

15.

Thus carnall loue did quench the loue of kinde,

Till lust were lost through fancy fully fed:

But whan at length I came vnto my minde,

I saw how lewdly lightnes had mee led,

To seeke with payne the perill of my heade:

For had king _Henry_ once beene setled sure,

I was assurde my dayes could not endure.

16.

And therefore, though I bound my selfe with[1185] oth

To help king _Henry_ all that euer[1186] I might,

Yet at the treaty of my brethren both,

Which reason graunted to require but right:

I left his part, whereby hee perisht quite:

And reconcilde mee to my brethren twayne,

And so came _Edward_ to the crowne agayne.

17.

This made my father[1187] in law to fret and fume,

To stamp and stare, and call mee false forsworne,

And at the length with all his power, presume

To help king _Henry_, vtterly forlorne:

Our friendly proffers still hee tooke in scorne,

Refused peace, and came to _Barnet_ fielde,

And there was kild, because hee would not yeelde.

18.

His brother also there with him was slayne,

Whereby decayed the keyes of chiualrye:

For neuer liu’d the matches of them twayne,

In manhood, power, and martiall pollecy,

In vertuous thewes, and friendly constancy,

That would to God, if it had bene his will,

They might haue tournde to vs and liued still.

19.

But what shalbe, shall bee: there is no choyse,

Thinges needes must driue as desteny decreeth,

For which wee[1188] ought in all our haps reioyce,

Because the eye eterne all things foreseeth

Which to no ill at any tyme agreeth,

For ills, to ill to vs, be good to it,

So far his skill’s exceede our reach of wit.

20.

The wounded man which must abyde the smart

Of stitching vp, or searing of his sore,

As thing to bad, reproues the surgeon’s art

Which not withstanding doth his health restore.

The childe likewise to science plied sore,

Counts knowledge ill, his teacher to be wood,

Yet surgery and sciences be good.

21.

But as the pacient’s griefe and scholer’s payne,

Cause them deme bad such things as sure be best,

So want of wisdome causeth vs complaine

Of euery hap, wherby we seme opprest:

The poore doe pine for pelfe, the rich for rest,

And when as losse or sicknesse vs assayle

We curse our fate, our fortune we bewayle.

22.

Yet for our good, God worketh euery thing:

For, through the death of these two noble peres,

My brother liu’d and raynde a quiet king,

Who, had they liued, perchaunce in course of years

Would haue deliuered _Henry_ fro the breres,

Or holpe his sonne t’[1189]enioy the carefull crowne,

Wherby our line should haue bene quite put downe.

23.

A carefull crowne it may be iustly named,

Not onely for the cares thereto annext,[1190]

To see the subiect well and duly framed,

With which good care few kings are greatly vext,

But for the dred wherwith they are perplext,

Of losing lordship, liberty, or life:

Which wofull wracks in kingdoms happen ryfe.

24.

The which to shun while some to sore haue sought,

They haue not sparde all persons to suspect:

And to destroy such as they gilty thought,

Though no apparaunce proued them infect.

Take me for one of this wrong punisht sect,

Imprisonde first, accused without cause,

And done to death, no processe had by lawes.

25.

Wherin I note how vengeaunce doth acquite

Like yll for yll, how vices vertue quell:

For as my mariage loue did me excite

Agaynst the king my brother to rebell,

So loue to haue his children prosper well,

Prouoked him, agaynst both law and right,

To murder me, his brother, and his knight.

26.

For by his queene two princelyke sonnes he had,

Borne to be punisht for their parent’s synne:

Whose fortunes kalked made the father sad,

Such wofull haps were found to be therin:

Which to auouch, writ in a rotten skin,

A prophesie was found, which sayd, a G

Of _Edward’s_ children should destruction bee.

27.

Mee to bee G, because my name was _George_,

My brother thought, and therefore did mee hate,

But woe be to the[1191] wicked heads that forge

Such doubtfull dreames to breede vnkinde debate:

For God, a gleue, a gibbet, grate, or gate,

A Gray, a Griffeth, or a Gregory,

As well as George, are written with a G.

28.

Such doubtfull riddles are no prophesies:

For prophesies, in writing though obscure,

Are playne in sence, the darke be very lies:

What God foresheweth is euident and pure,

Truth is no harold nor noe sophist sure:

She noteth not men’s names, their shieldes, nor creasts,

Though she compare them vnto byrds and beasts.

29.

But whom she doth forshewe shall rayne by force,

She tearms a wolfe, a dragon, or a beare:

A wilfull prince, a raynlesse ranging[1192] horse:

A bold, a lion: a cowarde much in feare,

A hare or harte: a crafty, pricked eare:

A leacherous, a bull, a goate, a foale:

An vndermyner, a moldwarpe, or a mole.

30.

By knowen beastes thus truth doth playne declare

What men they be of whom shee speakes before:

And who so can men’s properties compare

And marke what beast they doe resemble more:

Shall soone discerne who is the griesly bore:

For God by beastes expresseth men’s condicions,

And not theyr badges, haroldes supersticions.

31.

And learned _Merlyne_, whom God gaue[1193] the sprite

To know and vtter princes actes to come,

Like to the Iewish prophets, did recite

In shade of beastes, theyr doings all and some,

Expressing plaine by maners of the dome,

That kinges and lordes such propertyes should haue

As haue the beastes whose name he to them gaue.

32.

Which while the foolish did not well consider,

And seeing princes gaue, for difference

And knowledge of theyr issues mixt together,

All maner beastes for badges of pretence,

There tooke those badges to expresse the sence

Of _Merlyne’s_ minde, and those that gaue the same,

To bee the princes noted by theyr name.

33.

And hereof sprang the false namde prophesies,

That goe by letters, siphers, armes, or sines:

Which all bee foolish, false, and crafty lyes,

Deuisde by gesse, or guiles vntrue deuines:

For whan they saw that many[1194] of many lynes

Gaue[1195] armes alyke, they wist not which was hee

Whom _Merlyne_ ment the noted beast to bee.

34.

For all the broode of _Warwicke’s_ gaue the beare,

The _Buckinghams_ doe likewise gieue the swan:

But which beare bearer should the lyon teare

They were as wise as _Goose_ the fery man:

Yet in theyr skill they ceased not to scan,

And to bee deemed of the people wise,

Set forth theyr gloses vpon[1196] prophesies.

35.

And whome they douted openly to name

They darkely tearmed or by some letter ment,

For so they thought, how euer the world did frame,

Preserue themselues from shame, or being shent:

For, howsoeuer contrary it went,

They might expound their meaning otherwise,

As haps in things should newely still arise.

36.

And thus there grewe of a mistaken truth,

An art so false as made the true suspect:

Whereof hath come much mischiefe, more the ruth

That errours should our mindes so much infect,

True prophets[1197] haue fowly beene reiect:

The false, which breede both murder, warre, and strife,

Beleeued to the losse[1198] of many a good man’s life.

37.

And therefore, _Baldwine_, teach men to discerne,

Which prophecies be false and which bee true:

And for a ground this lesson let them learne,

That all bee false which are deuised newe:

The age of thinges are iudged by the hue:

All riddels made by letters, names or armes,

Are yong and false, far worse then witche’s charmes.

38.

I knowe thou musest at this lore of mine,

How I, no studient, should haue learned it:

And dost impute it to the fume of wine

That stirs the tongue, and sharpneth vp the wit:

But harke, a friend did teach mee euery whit,

A man of mine, in all good knowledge rife,

For which hee guiltlesse lost his learned life.

39.

This man abode my seruaunt many a day,

And still in study set his whole delight:

Which taught mee more then I could beare away

Of euery arte: and by his searching sight

Of thinges to come hee would foreshew as right,

As I rehearse the pageants that were past:

Such perfectnes God gaue him at the last.

40.

He knew my brother _Richard_ was the bore,

Whose tuskes should teare my brother’s boyes and me,

And gaue me warning therof long before:

But wyt nor warning can in no degree

Let thinges to hap, which are ordainde to bee:

Witnesse the painted lionesse, which slue

A prince imprisoned, lyons to eschewe.

41.

He told me eke[1199] my yoke fellow should dy,

(Wherin would God he had bene no deuyne)

And after her death I[1200] should woo earnestly

A spouse, wherat my brother would repine,

And finde the meanes she should be none of[1201] mine:

For which such malice should among vs ryse,

As saue my death no treaty should decise.

42.

And as he sayd, so all things came to passe:

For whan king _Henry_ and his sonne were slaine,

And euery broyle so throughly quenched was

That the king my[1202] brother quietly did raygne,

I, reconciled to his loue agayne,

In prosperous health did leade a quiet lyfe,

For fiue yeares space with honours laden rife.

43.

And to augment the fulnesse of my blisse,

Two louely children by my wife I had:

But froward hap, whose maner euer is

In chiefest ioy to make the happy sad,

Bemixt my sweete with bitternes too bad:

For while I swam in ioyes on euery side,

My louing wife, my cheifest iewell dyed.

44.

Whose lacke whan sole I had bewaylde a yeare,

The duke of _Burgoine’s_ wife, dame _Margarete_,

My louing sister willing me to chere,

To mary[1203] agayne did kindely me intreate:

And wisht me matched with a mayden nete,

A step daughter of her’s, duke _Charles’_ hayre,[1204]

A noble damsell, yong, discrete and fayre.

45.

To whose desire because I did enclyne,

The king my brother douting my degree

Through prophesies, against vs did repyne,

And at no hand would to our wills agree:

For which such rancoure pearst both him and mee,

That face to face we fell at flat defiaunce,

But were appeased by frends of our aliaunce.

46.

Howbeit my mariage vtterly was dasht:

Wherin because my seruant sayd his minde,

A meane was sought wherby he mought[1205] be lasht:

And, for they could no crime agaynst him fynd,

They forgde a fault the people’s eyes to blinde,

And told he should by sorceries pretend

To bring the king vnto a spedy ende.

47.

Of all which poynts he was as innocent

As is the babe that lacketh kindely breth:

And yet condemned by the king’s assent,

Most cruelly put to a shamefull death:

This fierd my hart, as foulder doth the heath:

So that I could not but exclame and cry,

Agaynst so great and open iniury.

48.

For this I was commaunded to the tower,

The king my brother was so cruel harted,

And when my brother _Richard_ saw the hower

Was come, for which his hart so sore had smarted,

He thought it best take time before it parted:

For he endeuoured to attayne the crowne,

From which my life must nedes haue held him downe.

49.

For though the king within a while had died,

As nedes he must, he surfayted so oft,

I must haue had his children in my guyde,

So _Richard_ should besyde the crowne haue coft:

This made him ply the while the wax was soft,

To finde a meane to bring me to an ende,

For realm-rape spareth neyther kin nor frend.

50.

And whan hee sawe how reason can asswage

Through length of time my brother _Edward’s_ ire,

With forged tales hee set him newe in rage,

Till at the last they did my death conspire:

And though my truth sore troubled their desire,

For all the world did knowe mine innocence,

Yet they agreede to charge mee with offence.

51.

And, couertly, within the tower they calde

A quest, to geue such verdite as they should:

Who what with feare and what with fauour thralde,

Durst not pronounce but as my brethren would:

And though my false accusers neuer could

Proue ought they sayd, I guiltlesse was condemned:

Such verdites passe where iustice is contemned.

52.

This feate atchiued, yet could they not for shame

Cause mee bee kild by any[1206] common way,

But like a wolfe the tyrant _Richard_ came,

(My brother, nay my butcher I may say)[1207]

Unto the tower when all men were away,[1208]

Saue such as were prouided for the feate:

Who in this wise did straungely mee entreate.

53.

His purpose was with a prepared string

To strangle mee: but I bestird mee so,

That by no force they could mee therto bring,

Which caused him that purpose to forgo:

Howbeit they bound mee, whether I would or no,

And in a but of malmesey standing by,

Newe christned mee, because I should not cry.[1209]

54.

Thus drownde I was, yet for no due desert,

Except the zeale of justice bee a crime:

False prophecies bewitcht king _Edward’s_ hart,

My brother _Richard_ to the crowne would clime:

Note these three causes in thy rufull rime,

And boldly say they did procure my fall,

And death of deaths most straunge and hard of all.

55.

And warne all[1210] princes prophecyes to eschue,

That are to darke and doubtfull to be knowen:

What God hath sayd, that cannot but ensue,

Though all the worlde would haue it ouerthrowne:

When men suppose by fetches of theyr owne

To fly[1211] theyr fate, they furder on the same,

Like quenching blastes which[1212] oft reuiue the flame.

56.

Will princes therefore, not to thinke by murder

They may auoyde what prophecyes behight,

But by theyr meanes, theyr mischiefes they may furder,

And cause God’s vengeaunce heauier to alight:

Woe worth the wretch that striues with God’s foresight:

They are not wise, but wickedly do arre,

Which thinke yll deedes due destenies may barre.

57.

For if wee thinke that prophecyes be true,

We must beleue it cannot but betyde,

Which God in them foresheweth shall ensue,

For his decrees vnchaunged doe abide:

Which to be true my brethren both haue tryed,

Whose wicked warkes warne princes to detest,

That other’s harmes may keepe them better blest.[1213]

[By that this tragedy was ended, night was so nere come that wee

could not conueniently tary together any longer: and therefore

sayd maister _Ferrers_: “It is best my maisters to stay here.

For wee be come now[1214] to the end of _Edward_ the fourth’s

raigne.[1215] For the last whom wee finde vnfortunate therein,

was the duke of _Clarence_: in whose behalfe I commend much that

which hath bene noted. Let vs therefore for this time leaue with

him, and this day seauen nights hence, if your busines will so

suffer, let vs all meete here together[1216] agayne. And you

shall see that in the meane season I will not only deuise vpon

this my selfe, but cause diuers other of my acquayntance, which

can doe very well, to helpe vs forwarde with the rest.” To this

euery man gladly agreed. “Howbeit,” sayd[1217] another, “seing

we shall end at _Edward_ the fourth’s end, let himselfe make an

ende of our daye’s labour, with the same oration which maister

_Skelton_ made in his name, the tenour whereof, so far as I

remember, is as foloweth.”][1218]

Howe King _Edward_ the fourth[1219] through his

surfeting and vntemperate life, sodaynly

dyed in the middest of his prosperity,

the nynth of Aprill, Anno 1483.

_Miseremini mei_ yee that bee my frendes,

This world hath formed mee downe to fall:

How may I endure whan that euery thing ends?

What creature is borne to be eternall?

Now there is no more but pray for mee all,

Thus say I, _Edward_, that late was your king,

And twenty-two[1220] yeares ruled this imperiall,[1221]

Some vnto pleasure and some to no lyking:

Mercy I aske of my misdoyng,

What avayleth it frendes to bee my foe?

Sith I cannot resist, nor amend your complayning,

_Quia ecce[1222] nunc in puluere dormio_.

I sleepe now in mould as it is naturall,

As earth vnto earth hath his reuerture:

What ordayned God to bee terrestriall,[1223]

Without recourse to the earth by nature?

Who to liue euer may himselfe assure?

What is it to trust to mutability?

Sith that in this worlde nothing may endure:

(For now am I gone that was late in prosperity)

To presume thereuppon it is but[1224] vanity:

Not certayne, but as a chery fayre full of wo:

Raigned not I of late in great prosperity?[1225]

_Et ecce in nunc puluere dormio._

Where was in my life such an one as I,

While lady fortune had with me[1226] continuaunce:

Graunted not shee mee to haue victory,

In _England_ to raigne and to contribute _Fraunce_?

Shee tooke mee by the hand and led me a daunce,

And with her sugred lips on mee shee smyled,

But what for dissembled countenaunce,

I could not beware till I was beguyled:

Now from this world shee hath mee exiled,

Whan I was lothest hence for to goe,

And am in age as[1227] (who sayth) but a childe,

_Et ecce nunc in puluere dormio._

I had enough, I held mee not content,

Without remembraunce that I should dye:

And moreouer to encroch redy was I bent,

I knew not how long I should it occupye,

I made the towre strong, I wist not why:

I knew not to whom I purchased _Tartersall_:

I mended _Douer_ on the mountayne hye:

And _London_ I prouoked to fortify the wall:

I made _Notingham_ a place full royall:

_Windsore_, _Eltam_, and many other mo,

Yet at the last I went from them all,

_Et ecce nunc in puluere dormio_.

Where is now my conquest and victory?

Where is my riches and royall array?

Where be my coursers and my horses hye,

Where is my myrth, my solace, and my play?

As vanity to nought all[1228] is wythered away:

O lady _Bes_ long for mee may you call,

For I am departed vntill dome’s day:

But loue you that lord that is soueraine of all:

Where bee my castles and buildings royall?

But _Windsore_ alone now haue I no moe,

And of _Eton_ the prayers perpetuall,

_Et ecce nunc in puluere dormio_.

Why should a man bee prowde or presume hye?

Saint _Bernard_ thereof nobly doth treate,

Saying a man is but a sacke of stercory,

And shall retourne vnto wormes meate:

Why, what became of _Alexander_ the great?

Or else of strong _Sampson_, who can tell?

Were not wormes ordaynde theyr flesh to freate?

And of _Salomon_ that was of wit the well,

_Absolon_ preferred his hayre for to sell,

Yet for his bewty wormes eate him also,

And I but late in honoures did excell,

_Et ecce nunc in puluere dormio_.

I haue played my pageant, now am I past,

Yee wot well all I was of no great elde:

Thus all thing concluded shalbe at the last,

When death approcheth then lost is the fielde:

Then seing this world me no longer vpheld,

(For nought would conserue mee here in this place)

_In manus tuas Domine_ my spirit vp I yeelde,

Humbly beseeching thee, O God, of thy grace,

O you courteous commons your heartes embrace,

Beningly now to pray for mee also,

For right well you[1229] know your king I was:

_Et ecce nunc in puluere dormio_.[1230]

[Whan this was sayd, euery man for that[1231] time tooke his

leaue of other, and departed (for then it waxed darke) appointing

a new day of meeting, which being come, we met all together

againe. And whan we had saluted one another, then one tooke the

booke, and began to read the story of king _Edward_ the fifte:

(for there wee left) and when hee came to the apprehending of the

lord _Riuers_: “Stay there I pray you,” sayd I, “for here is his

complaint. For the better vnderstanding whereof, you must imagine

that he was accompanied with the lord _Richard Gray_, _Hawt_, and

_Clappam_, whose infortunes hee bewaileth after this maner.”]

Howe Syr _Anthony Woduile_ Lord Riuers and Scales,

Gouernour of Prince _Edward_, was with his

Nephue Lord _Richard Gray_ and other

causelesse imprisoned and cruelly

murdered, Anno 1483.[1232]

As seely suiters letted by delayes

To shew their prince the meaning of their minde,

That long haue bought their brokers yeas and nays,

And neuer the nyer, doe dayly wayte to finde

The prince’s grace, from waighty affaires vntwind:

Which time attaynde, by attending all the yeare,

The weried prince will than no suyters heare:

My case[1233] was such not many dayes agoe,

For, after bruite had blazed all abroade,

That _Baldwine_, through the ayde of[1234] other moe,

Of fame or shame fall’n[1235] princes would vnloade,

Out from our graues wee got[1236] without abode,

And preaced forward with the ruefull[1237] rout,

That sought to haue their doinges boulted out.

But whan I had long tended[1238] for my turne

To tell my tale, as diuers other did,

In hope I should no longer while soiourne,

But from my suites haue speedely ben ryd,

Whan course and place both orderly had bid

Mee shewe my minde, and I preparde to say,

The hearers pausde, arose, and went their way.

These doubtfull doings draue mee to my dumpes,

Uncertaine what should moue them so to doe:

I feared least affections lothly lumpes

Or inward grudge had driuen[1239] them thereto,

Whose wicked stinges all storyes truth vndoe,

Oft causing good to bee reported ill,

Or drownd in suds of _Læthe’s_ muddy swill.

For hitherto slye wryters wily wits,

Which haue engrossed princes chiefe affayres,

Haue bene like horses snaffled with the bits

Of fancy, feare, or doubts full deepe dispayres,

Whose raynes enchained to the cheifest chayres,

Haue so bene straynde of those that bare the stroke

That truth was forste to chow or els to choke.

This caused such as lothed lowd to ly,

To passe with silence sundry princes lyues:

Lesse fault it is to leaue, then leade awry,

And better dround, then[1240] euer bound in gyues:

For fatall fraud this world so fondly driues,

That whatsoeuer writer’s braines may brue

Bee it neuer so false, at length is tane for true.

What harme may hap by help of lying pennes,

How written lies may lewdely bee mayntainde,

The lothly rites, the diuilishe ydoll dennes,

With guiltlesse bloud of vertuous men bestaynde,

Is such a proofe as all good hartes haue plainde,

The taly groundes of stories throughly tries,

The death of martyrs vengeaunce on it cries.

8.[1241]

Far better therefore not to write at all,

Than staine the truth, for any maner cause,

For this they meane to let my story fall,

(Thought I) and ere my time theyr[1242] volume clause:

But after I knew it only was a pause

Made purposely, most for the reader’s ease,

Assure thee, _Baldwine_, highly it did mee please.

For[1243] freshest wits I know will sone be weary,

In reading long what euer booke it bee,

Except it bee vaine matter, strange, or mery,

Well sauste with lies, and glared all with glee,

With which because no graue truth may agree,

The closest stile for stories is the meetest,

In rufull moanes the shortest fourme is sweetest.

10.

And sith the playnts already by thee pende,

Are briefe inough, the nomber also small,

The tediousnesse I thinke doth none offend,

Saue such as haue no lust to learne at all:

Regard none such, no matter what they brall,

Warne thou the wary least they hap to stumble,

As for the carelesse, care not what they mumble.

11.

My life is such as (if thou note it well)

May cause the witty wealthy[1244] to beware:

For their sakes therefore playnly will I tell,

How false and cumbrous worldly honours are,

How cankred foes bring carelesse folke to care,

How tyrauntes suffered and not queld in time,

Doe cut theyr throates that suffer them to clime.

12.

Neither will I hyde the chiefest point of all

Which wisest rulers least of all regarde,

That was and will bee cause of many a fall:

This cannot bee too earnestly declarde

Because it is so seeld, and slackly harde,

The abuse[1245] and scorning of God’s ordinaunces,

Is chiefest cause of care and woefull chaunces.

13.

God’s holy orders highly are abused

Whan men doe chaunge their ends for straunge respects:

They scorned are, whan they bee cleane refused,

For that they cannot serue our fond affects:

The one our shame, the other our sinne detects:

It is a shame for christians to abuse them,

But deadly sinne for scorners to refuse them.

14.

I meane not this al onely of degrees

Ordainde by God for people’s preseruation,

But of his lawe, good orders, and decrees,

Prouided for[1246] his creature’s conseruation:

And specially the state of procreation,

Wherein wee here the number of them encrease,

Which shall in heauen enioy eternall peace.

15.

The only end why God ordayned this,

Was for th’[1247] encreasing of that blessed nombre

For whom hee had preparde eternall blisse:

They that refuse it for the care or cumbre,

Being apt thereto, are in a sinfull slumbre:

No fond respect, no vayne devised vowes,

Can quit or bar what God in charge allowes.

16.

“It is not good for man to liue alone:”

Sayd God, and therfore made he him a make:

“Sole life,” sayd Christ, “is graunted few or none,

All seede sheders are bound like wiues to take:”

Yet not for lust, for landes, or riches sake,

But to beget and foster so theyr fruite,

That heauen and earth be stored with the suite.

17.

But as this[1248] state is damnably refused,

Of many apt and able thereunto,

So is it likewise wickedly abused

Of all that vse it as they should not doe:

Wherein are guilty all the greedy, who

For gayne, for friendship, landes, or honoures wed,

And these pollute the vndefiled bed.

18.

And therefore God, through iustice cannot cease

To plague these faults with sundry sortes of whips:

As disagreement, health’s, or welth’s decrease,

Or lothing sore the neuer liked lips:

Disdayne also with rigour some times nips

Presuming mates, vnequally that match:

Some bitter leauen sowers the musty batch.

19.

We worldly folke account him very wise

That hath the wit most welthely to wed:

By all meanes therefore, alwayes, wee deuise

To see our yssue rich in spousals sped:

Wee buy and sell rich orphanes, babes scant bred

Must mary, ere they know what mariage meanes,

Boyes mary old trots, old fooles wed yong queanes.

20.

Wee call this wedding, which, in any wise,

Can bee no mariage, but pollution playne:

A new found trade of humane marchaundise,

The deuil’s net, a filthy fleshly gayne,

Of kinde and nature an vnnaturall stayne,

A fowle abuse of God’s most holy order,

And yet allowde almost in euery border.

21.

Would God I were the last that shall haue cause

Agaynst this creping cankar to complayne,

That men would so regard theyr maker’s lawes,

That all would leaue the lewdenes of theyr brayne,

That holy orders holy might remayne,

That our respects in wedding should not choke

The end and fruite of God’s most holy yoke.

22.

The sage king _Solon_, after that hee sawe

What mischiefs follow missought mariages,

To barre all baits, established this lawe:

No friend nor father shall gieue herytages,

Coyne, cattell, stuffe, or other cariages,

With any mayde for dowry, or wedding sale,

By any meane, on paine of banning bale.

23.

Had this good law in _England_ beene in force,

My father had not so cruelly beene slaine,

My brother had not causles lost his corps,

Our mariage had not bred vs such disdayne,

My selfe had lackt great part of greuous payne:

We wedded wiues for dignity and landes,

And left our liues in enuie’s[1249] bloudy handes.

24.

My father hight syr _Richard Woduile_, hee

Espousde the duches of _Bedford_,[1250] and by her

Had yssue males my brother _Iohn_, and mee

Calde _Anthony_: king _Edward_ did prefer

Us farre aboue the state wherein wee were,

For hee espousde[1251] our sister _Elizabeth_,

Whom syr _Iohn Gray_ made wydow by his death.

25.

How glad were wee, thinke you, of this alyaunce?

So neerely coupled with so noble[1252] a king:

Who durst with any of vs bee[1253] at defiaunce

Thus made of might the mightyest to wring?

But fye, what cares doe highest honoures bring?

What carelesnes our selues or frendes to knowe?

What spyte and enuy both of high and lowe?

26.

Because the king had made our sister queene,

It was his honour to prefer her kin:

And sith the redyest way, as wisest weene,

Was first by wedding welthy heyres to win,

It pleasde the prince by[1254] like meane to begin:

To mee hee gaue the rich lord _Scales_ his heyre,

A vertuous mayde, in my minde very[1255] fayre.

27.

Hee ioyned to my brother _Iohn_, the olde

Duches of _Northfolke_ notable of fame:

My nephue _Thomas_ (who had in his holde

The honour and right of marquise _Dorcet’s_ name)

Espoused _Cicelie_, a right welthy dame,

Lord _Bonuile’s_ heyre: by whome hee was possest

In all the rightes where through that house was blest.

28.

The honours that my father[1256] attaynd were diuers,

First Chamberlayne, then constable hee was:

I doe omit the gaynfullest, earle _Riuers_:

Thus glistred wee to[1257] glory, clere as glasse:

Such miracles can princes bring to passe

Among theyr lieges, whom they minde to heaue

To honours false, who all theyr gestes deceiue.

29.

Honoures are like that cruell king of _Thrace_,

With new come gestes that fed his hungry horses:

Or like the tyrant _Busiris_, whose grace

Offred his gods all straungers strangled corses:

To forreyners so hard false honor’s force is,

That all her bourders, straungers, eyther geastes,

She spoyles to feede her gods and greedy beastes.

30.

Her gods be those whom God by law, or lot,

Or kinde by byrth, doth place in highest roumes,

Her beastes bee such as greedely haue got

Office, or charge, to guide the seely gromes:

These officers in law, or charge, are bromes

That sweepe away the sweete from simple wretches,

And spoyle th’[1258]enriched by theyr crafty fetches.

31.

These plucke downe those whome princes set aloft,

By wresting lawes, and false conspiracyes:

Yea kings themselues by these are spoyled oft,

When wilfull princes carelesly despise

To heare th’[1259]oppressed people’s heauy cryes,

Nor will correct theyr polling theues, then God

Doth make those reues the reckles princes’ rod.

32.

The second _Richard_ is a proofe of this,

Whom crafty lawyers by theyr lawes deposed:

Another patern good king _Henry_ is,

Whose right by them hath[1260] diuersly beene glosed,

Good while hee grew, bad whan hee was vnrosed:

And as they fodred[1261] these and diuers other,

With like deceit they vsde the king my brother.

33.

While he preuayled they sayde hee owed the crowne,

All lawes and rightes agreed with the same:

But whan by driftes hee seemed to be downe,

All lawes and right extremely did him blame,

Nought saue vsurping traytour was his name:

So constantly the judges construe lawes,

That all agree still with the stronger cause.

34.

These, as I sayde, and other like in charge

Are honour’s horses, whom shee feedes with gests:

For all whom princes frankly doe enlarge

With dignityes, these barke at in theyr brests,

Theyr spite, theyr might, theyr falsehoode neuer restes

Till they deuour them, sparing neyther bloud,

Ne lim, ne[1262] life, and all to get theyr good.

35.

The earle of _Warwicke_ was a praunsing courser,

The hawty heart of his could beare no mate:

Our welth through him waxt many a time the worser,

So cankardly hee had our kin in hate:

Hee troubled oft the kinge’s vnsteady state,

And that because hee would not bee his warde

To wed and worke, as hee should list awarde.

36.

Hee spited vs because wee were preferde

By mariage to dignityes so greate,

But craftely his malice hee deferde,

Till, traytorously, he found meanes to entreate

Our brother of _Clarence_ to assist his feate:

Whom when hee had by mariage to him bound,

Than wrought he straight our linage to confound.

37.

Through slaunderous brutes he brued many a broyle

Throughout the realme, against the king my brother:

And raysed trayterous rebels thirsting spoyle

To murder men: of whom among all other

One _Robin_ of _Riddesdale_[1263] many a soule did smother,

His rascall rable at my father wroth

Tooke sire and sonne, and quicke beheaded both.

38.

This heynous act, although the king detested,

Yet was hee fayne to pardon, for the rout

Of rebels all the realme so sore infested,

That euery way assaylde, he stoode in doubt:

And though he were of courage high and stout,

Yet hee assayde by fayre meanes to asswage

His enemies ire, reueilde by rebels rage.

39.

But _Warwicke_ was not pacified thus,

His constant rancour causeles was extreme,

No meane could serue the[1264] quarell to discus,

Till hee had driuen the king out of the realme:

Neyther[1265] would hee then be waked[1266] from his dreame:

For when my brother was come and placed agayne,

He stinted not till hee was stoutly slaine.

40.

Then grewe the king and realme to quiet rest,

Our flocke and frends still stying higher and[1267] higher:

The queene with children fruitfully was blest,

I gouernd them, it was the king’s desier:

This set theyr vncles furiously on fier,

That wee, the queene’s bloud, were assignde to gouerne

The prince, not they, the king’s owne bloud and bretherne.

41.

This causde the duke of _Clarence_ so to chafe,

That with the king hee brainlesse fell at bate:

The counsaile warely for[1268] to kepe him safe

From raising tumults, as he did of late,

Imprisoned him: where through his brother’s hate

He was condemnde, and murdered in such sort

As he himselfe hath truly made report.

42.

“Was none abhorde these mischiefs more then I,

Yet coulde I not bee therewith discontented,

Considering that his rancoure toucht mee ny:

Els would my conscience neuer haue consented

To wish him harme, could he haue beene contented:

But feare of hurt, for sauegard of our state,

Doth cause more mischiefe then desert or hate.”

43.

Such is the state that many wish to beare,

That eyther wee must with other’s bloud[1269] bee stainde,

Or leade our liues continually in feare:

You mounting myndes behold here what is gaynde

By coumbrous honour, painfully attainde:

A damned soule for murdring them that hate you,

Or doubtfull lyfe, in daunger lest they mate you.

44.

The cause, I thinke, why some of high degree

Doe deadly hate all sekers to ascend,

Is this: the cloyne[1270] contented cannot bee

With any state, till tyme hee apprehend

The highest top, for therto clymers tend:

Which seldome is attaynd without the wracke

Of those betwene, that stay and beare him backe.

45.

To saue themselues they therfore are compeld

To hate such climers, and with wit and power

To compasse meanes where through they may bee queld,

Ere they ascend their honours to deuour:

This causde the duke of _Clarence_ frowne and lowre

At mee and other, whom the king promoted

To dignities: wherin he madly doted.

46.

For seing wee were his deare allied frends,

Our furderaunce should rather haue made him glad,

Then, enmy like, to wish our wofull ends,

Wee were the nerest kinsfolke that he had:

Wee ioyed with him, his sorrowe made vs sad,

But hee esteemde so much his paynted sheath,

That he disdaynd the loue of all beneath.

47.

But see how sharply God reuengeth sinne:

As hee maligned mee, and many other

His faithfull friends, and kindest of his kin,

So _Richard_, duke of _Glocester_, his very[1271] brother,

Maligned him, and beastly did him smother:

A deuelish deede, a most vnkindly part,

Yet iust reuenge for his vnnaturall hart.

48.

Although this brother-queller, tirant fell,

Enuide our state as much and more then hee:

Yet did his cloaking flattery so excell

To all our frendes ward, chiefly vnto mee,

That hee appeard our trusty stay to bee:

For outwardly hee wrought our stay to furder,

Where inwardly he mynded nought saue murder.

49.

Thus in appearaunce who but I was blest?

The chiefest honors heaped on my head,

Belou’d of all, enioying quiet rest:

The forward prince by mee alone was led,

A noble impe, to all good vertues bred:

The king, my liege, without my counsaile knowne,

Agreed nought: though wisest were his owne.

50.

But quiet blisse in no state lasteth long

Assailed still by mischief many wayes:

Whose spoyling battry glowing hote and strong,

No flowing welth, no force nor wisdom staies,

Her smoakles poulder beaten souldiers slaies:

By open force, foule mischief oft preuailes,

By secret sleight, shee seeld her purpose failes.

51.

The king was bent too much to foolish pleasure,

In banqueting he had so[1272] greate delight:

This made him grow in grosnes out of mesure,

Which as it kindleth carnall appetite,

So quencheth it the liuelynes of the sprite:[1273]

Whereof ensue such sicknes and diseases,

As none can cure, saue death, that all displeases.

52.

Through this fault furdered by his brother’s fraud,

(Now God forgeiue me if I iudge amisse)

Or through that beast, his ribald, or his baud,

That larded still these sinfull lusts of his,

He sodainely forsooke all worldly blisse:

That loathed leach, that neuer welcome death,

Through spasmous humours stopped vp his breath.

53.

That time lay I at _Ludloe_, _Wales_ his border,

For, with the prince, the king had sent me thyther

To stay the robberies, spoyle, and foule disorder,

Of diuers outlawes gathered there together:

Whose banding tended no man wist well whither,

When these by wisdome safely were suppressed,

Came wofull newes, our souerayne was deceassed.

54.

The griefe whereof, when reason had[1274] asswaged,

Because the prince remayned in my guyde,

For his defence[1275] great store of men I waged:

Doubting the stormes which at such tyme betyde:

But while I there thus warely did prouide,

Commaundement came to send them home agayne,

And bring the king thence with his houshold trayne.

55.

This charge sent from the counsell and the queene,

Though much agaynst my mynde I beast obayed:

The deuill himselfe wrought all the drift I weene,

Because he would haue innocents betrayed:

For ere the king were halfe his way conuayed,

A sort of traytors falsly him betrapt,

I caught afore, and close in prison clapt.

56.

The duke of _Glocester_, that incarnate deuill,

Confedred with the duke of _Buckingham_,

With eke lord _Hastings_, hasty both to euill,

To meete the king in mourning habit came,

(A cruell wolfe though clothed like a lambe)

And at _Northampton_, where as then I bayted,

They tooke theire inne, as they on mee had wayted.

57.

The king that night at _Stonystratford_ lay,

A towne to small to harboure all his trayne:

This was the cause why he was gone away,

While I with other did behinde remaine:

But will yow see how falsly frendes[1276] can faine?

Not _Synon_ sly, whose fraude best fame rebukes,

Was halfe so suttle as these double dukes.

58.

First to myne inne commeth in my brother false,

Embraceth me: “Well met, good brother _Scales_:”

And weepes withall, the other me enhalse

With, “welcome cosin, now welcome out of _Wales_:

O happy day, for now all stormy gales

Of strife and rancour, vtterly are swaged,

And we your[1277] owne to liue, or dye, vnwaged.”

59.

This proferd seruice, saust with salutations

Immoderate, might cause me to suspect:

For, commonly, in all dissimulations,

Th’xcesse[1278] of glauering doth the guile detect:

Reason refuseth falsehode to dyrect:

The will therfore, for feare of being spied,

Exceedeth meane, because it wanteth guyde.

60.

This is the cause why such as fayne to weepe

Doe howle outright, or wayling cry, ah, ah,[1279]

Tearing themselues, and straining sighes most deepe:

Why such dissemblers as would seeme to laugh,

Breth not tihhee, but bray out, hah, hah, hah:

Why beggers fayning brauery are the prowd’st[1280]

Why cowards bragging boldnesse, wrangle lowd’st.[1281]

61.

For commonly all that doe counterfayte

In any thing, exceede the naturall meane,

And that for feare of fayling in their feate:

But these conspirers couched all so cleane,

Through close demeanour, that their wyles did weane

My hart from doubts, so many a false deuice,

They[1282] forged fresh, to hyde their enterprise.

62.

They supt with mee, propounding frendly talke

Of our affayres, still geuing mee the prayse:

And euer among the cups to mee ward walke:

“I drinke to you, good cuz:” each traytoure saies:

Our banquet done, when they should goe their wayes

They tooke their leaue, oft wishing mee good night,

As hartely as any creature might.

63.

A noble heart they say is lyon like,

It can not couch, dissemble, crouch, nor fayne,

How villanous were these, and how vnlike?

Of noble stocke the most ignoble stayne:

Their woluish hearts, their trayterous foxly braine,

Or proue[1283] them base, of rascall race engendred,

Or from hault lynage, bastard like, degendred.

64.

Such polling heades as prayse for prudent pollicy

False practises, I wish were pact on poales:

I mean the bastard law broode, which can molifie

All kinde of causes in their crafty noales:

These vndermine all vertue, blinde as moales,

They bolster wrong, they racke and straine the right

And prayse for lawe both malice, fraud, and might.

65.

These quenche the worthy flames of noble kynde,

Prouoking best borne to the basest vices:

Through crafts they make the bouldest courage blind,

Disliking highly valiant enterprises,

And praysing vily, villanous deuices:

These make the bore a hog, the bull an oxe,

The swan a goose, the lyon a wolfe or foxe.

66.

The lawyer _Catesby_, and his crafty feeres,

A rout that nere[1284] did good in any reame,

Are they that had transformde these noble peeres:

They turnde theire bloud to melancholicke fleume,

Their courage hault to cowardise extreame,

Their force and manhoode, into fraud and malice,

Their wit to wyles, stout _Hector_ into _Paris_.

67.

These glauerers gone, my selfe to rest I layde,

And doubting nothing, soundly fell a sleepe:

But sodainly my seruaunts, sore afrayde,

Awaked me, and drawing sighes full deepe:

“Alas,” quoth one, “my lord wee are betrayde:”

“How so,” quoth I, “the dukes are gone their waies?”

“Th’haue[1285] barde the gates, and borne away the kayes.”

68.

While he thus spake, there came into my minde

This fearefull dreame, whereout I waked was:

I saw a riuer stopt with stormes of winde,

Wheare through a swan, a bull, and bore did passe,

Fraunching the fysh and fry, with teath of brasse,

The riuer dryde vp saue a title streame,

Which at the last did water all the reame.

69.

Me thought this streame did drowne the cruell bore

In litle space, it grew so deepe and brode:

But hee had kilde the bull and swan before:

Besides all this I sawe an ougly tode

Crall towarde mee, on which mee thought I trode:

But what became of her, or what of mee,

My sodayne waking woulde not let mee see.

70.

These dreames considered with this sodayne newes

So diuers from theyr doings ouer night,

Did cause me not a litle for to muse,

I blest me, and rise[1286] in all the hast I might:

By this, _Aurora_ spred abroade the light,

Which fro the endes of _Phebus_ beames she tooke,

Who than the bulls cheife gallery forsooke.

71.

Whan I had opened the window to looke out,

There might I see the stretes ech where beset,

My inne on each side compassed about

With armed watchmen, all escapes to let:

Thus had these Neroes caught me in their net,

But to what ende I could not throughly gesse,

Such was my plainnes, such their doublenesse.

72.

My conscience was so clere, I could not doubt

Their deadly drift, which lesse apparaunt lay,

Because they causde their men retourne the rout

That rode toward _Stonystratford_, as they say,

Because the dukes will first be there to day:

For this (thought I) they hinder me in iest,

For giltlesse myndes doe easel deeme the best.

73.

By this the dukes were come into myne inne,

For they were lodged in an other by:

I gote mee to them, thinking it a sinne

Within my chamber cowardly to lye:

And merily I asked my brother, why

He vsde me so? he sterne, in euill sadnes,

Cryed out: “I arrest thee, traytour, for thy badnes.”

74.

“How so,” quoth I, “whence riseth your suspition?”

“Thou art a traytour,” quoth he, “I thee arrest:”

“Arrest,” quoth I, “why, where is your commission?”

Hee drew his weapon, so did all the rest,

Crying, “yeeld thee traytour:” I so sore distrest

Made no resistaunce, but was sent to warde,

None saue their seruants assigned to my garde.

75.

This done they sped them[1287] to the king in post,

And after theyr[1288] humble reuerence to him done,

They trayterously began to rule the rost,

They pickt a quarrell to my sister’s sonne

Lord _Richard Gray_: the king would not bee wonne

T’agree[1289] to them, yet they, agaynst all reason,

Arested him, they sayd, for haynous treason.

76.

Sir _Thomas Vaughan_ and sir _Richard Hault_

Two worthy knights, were likewise apprehended,

These all were guylty in one kind of fault,

They would not like the practise then pretended:

And seeyng the king was herewith sore offended,

Backe to _Northampton_ they brought him agayne,

And thence discharged most part of his trayne.

77.

There, loe! duke _Richard_ made himselfe protector

Of king and realme, by open proclamation,

Though neyther king nor queene were his elector,

Thus hee presumde by lawles vsurpation:

But will you see his deepe dissimulation?

Hee sent mee a dish of daynties from his bourde

That day, and with it, this false friendly worde:

78.

“Commend mee to him, all things shalbe well,

I am his friend, bid him bee of good chere:”

These newes I prayed the messenger goe tell

My nephue _Richard_, whom I lou’d full dere:

But what hee ment by well, now shall you here,

Hee thought it well to haue vs quickly murdred,

Which not long after thorowly hee furdred.

79.

For strayt from thence wee closely were conuayed,

From iayle to iayle northward, wee wist not whither:

Where, after a while wee had in[1290] sunder stayed,

At last wee met at _Pomfret_ altogither:

Sir _Richard Ratcliffe_ bade vs welcom thyther,

Who openly, all law and right contemned,

Beheaded vs, before wee were condemned.[1291]

80.

My cosin _Richard_ could not bee content

To leaue his lyfe, because hee wist not why:

Good gentleman, that neuer harme had ment,

Therefore hee asked wherefore hee should dye:

The priest, his ghostly father, did replye,

With weeping eyes: “I knowe one wofull cause,

The realme hath neyther righteous lords nor laws.”

81.

Sir _Thomas Vaughan_ chafing, cryed still:

“This tyrant _Glocester_ is the gracelesse G,

That will his brother’s children beastly kyll:”

And, least the people through his talke might see

The mischeifs toward, and thereto not agree,

Our tormentour, that false periured knight,

Bad stop our mouths, with words of high dispight.

82.

Thus dyed wee giltlesse, processe hard wee none,

No cause alleagde, no judge, nor yet accuser,

No quest empaneld passed vs vppon:

That murdrer _Ratcliffe_, law and rights refuser,

Did all to flatter _Richard_ his abuser:

Unhappy both that euer they were borne,

Through giltlesse bloud that haue their soules forlorne.

83.

In part, I graunt, I well deserued this,

Because I causde not spedy execution

Bee done on _Richard_, for that murder of his,

When first hee wrought king _Henrie’s_ close confusion:

Not for his brother’s hatefull persecution:

These cruell murders painfull death deserued,

Which had hee suffred, many had ben preserued.

84.

Warne therefore all that charge or office beare,

To see all murdrers spedely executed,

And spare them not for fauour or for feare,

By guiltles bloud the earth remaines polluted:

For lacke of justice kingdomes are transmuted:

They that saue murdrers from deserued paine

Shall, through those murdrers, miserably bee slaine.[1292]

[Whan I had read this, they liked it very well. One wished that

the combat which hee fought[1293] with the bastard of _Burgoine_,

and the honour which he wan both with speare and axe, should not

be forgotten. Another moued a question about a great matter, and

that is the variaunce of the chronicles about the lord _Thomas

Gray_ marquise _Dorcet_: whome _Fabian_ euery where calleth the

queene’s brother. Sir _Thomas More_ and _Hall_ call him the

queene’s sonne, [as hee was in very deede.][1294] _Fabian_ saith

hee was gouernour of the prince, and had the conueiaunce of him

from _Ludlo_ towards _London_. The other (whome wee followe) say

hee was than at _London_ with the queene prouiding for the king’s

coronation, and tooke sanctuary with her, as soone as he heard

of the apprehending of his vncle. This disagreing of writers

is a great hinderaunce of the truth, and no small cumbraunce

to such as bee diligent readers, besides the harme that may

happen in succession of heritages. It were therefore a worthy

and good deede for the nobility to cause all the recordes to bee

sought, and a true and perfect chronicle thereout to bee written.

Vnto which we refer the deciding of this and of all other like

controuersies, geuing this to vnderstand in the meane time, that

no man shall thinke his title either better or worse by any thing

that is written in any part of this treatise. For the only thing

which is purposed herein, is by example of other’s miseries, to

disswade all men from all sinnes and vices. If by the way wee

touch any thing concerning titles, wee follow therein _Halle’s_

chronicle. And where wee seeme to swarue from his reasons and

causes of diuers doings, there wee gather vpon coniecture such

thinges as seeme most probable, or at the lest most conuenient

for the furderaunce of our purpose. Whan the reader would haue

proceeded in the Cronicle, which straight intreateth of the

vilanous destruction of the lorde _Hastinges_, I willed him to

surcease, because I had there his tragedy very learnedly penned.

For the better vnderstanding wherof, you must imagin that you

see him newly crept out of his graue, and speaking to mee as

followeth.]

How the Lord _Hastings_ was betrayed, by trusting

too much to his euill counsaylour _Catesby_,

and vilanously murdered in the Tower

of London by _Richard_ Duke of

Glocester, the 13 of Iune,

Anno 1483.[1295]

Hastings I am, whose hastned death who knewe,

My life with prayse, my death with playnt pursue:

With others fearing least my headles name

Bee wrongd, by partiall bruite of flattering fame:

Cleauing my tombe the way my fame forewent,

Though bared of loynes[1296] which body and fortune lent

Earst my prowde vaunt: present, present to thee

My honour, fall, and forced destenye.[1297]

Ne feare to stayne thy credit by my tale:

In _Læthe’s_ floud, long since, in _Stygian_ vale

Selfe loue I dreint:[1298] what time hath fynde for true,

And ceaseth not, though stale, still to renue,

Recount I wil: whereof bee this the[1299] proofe,

That blase I will my prayse, and my reproofe:

Wee naked ghostes are but the very man,

Ne of our selues more than wee ought, wee scan.

But doubt distract’th[1300] mee, if I should consent

To yeelde mine honourde name, a martyrde saynt:

Yf martyrdome rest in the miser’s life

Through torments wrongly reft by fatall knyfe,

How fortune’s nursling I, and dearest babe,

Ought there to stoope, none may mee well perswade:

For how may miser martyrdome betyde,

To whome in cradell fortune was affyde?

See how this grosest ayre infect’th[1301] mee since,

Forgote haue I, of loyalty to my prince,

My happy meede is, martyr to bee named?

And what the heauens embrace, the world aye blamed:

For mens vniustice wreak’d but God’s iust ire,

And by wrong end, turnd wreake to iustice hire:

O iudgements iust, by vniustice iustice dealt,

Who doubts[1302] of mee may learne, the truth who felt.

So therefore as my fall may many stay:

As well the prince, from violent headlong sway

Of noble peeres, from honour’s throne to dust,

As nobles lesse in tyckle[1303] state to trust:

Shonning those sinnes, that shake the golden leaues

Perforce from boughs, ere nature bare the greaues:

So, what my life profest, my death here teacheth,

And, as with word, so with example preacheth.[1304]

The hilly heauens, and valey earth belowe[1305]

Yet ring his fame, whose deedes so great did grow;

_Edward_ the fourth yee know, vnnamde I meane,

Whose noble nature to mee so[1306] did leane

That I his staffe was, I his only ioy,

And euen what _Pandare_ was to him of _Troy_,

Which mou’d him first to creat[1307] mee chamberlayne,

To serue his sweetes, to my most sower payne.

Wherin, to iustly praysde for secretnesse

(For now my guilt with shriking I confesse)

To him to true, to vntrue to the queene,

Such hate I wan, as lasted long betweene

Our familyes: _Shore’s_ wife was my nyce cheate,

The holy[1308] hore, and eke the wyly peate:

I fed his lust with lonely peces so,

That God’s sharpe wrath I purchast, my iust woe.

See here of nobles new the diners sourse?

Some vertue rays’th,[1309] some clyme by sluttish sorts:[1310]

The fyrst, though onely of themselues begon,

Yet circlewise into themselues do ron:

Within their fame their[1311] force vnited so,

Both endlesse is, and stronger gainst their foe:

For, when end’th it[1312] that neuer hath begon?

Or by what force, may circled knot bee vndon?[1313]

The other,[1314] as by wicked meanes they grew,

And raynde by flattery, or violence: so sone rue:[1315]

First tombling step from[1316] honours old, is vice:

Which once discend[1317] some linger, none arise

To former type: but they catch vertue’s spray,

Which mounteth[1318] them that clime by lawfull way:

Beware to rise by seruing princely lust,

Surely to stand, one meane is rising iust.

10.

Which learne by mee, whom let it helpe t’excuse,[1319]

That ruthfull now my selfe I do accuse,

And that my prince I euer pleasde with such

As harmed none, and him contented much:

In vice some favour, or lesse hate let win,

That I ne wryde to worser end my sinne:

But vsde my fauour to the safty[1320] of sutch,

As fury of later[1321] war to lyue did grutch.

11.

For as one durt (though durty) shin’th[1322] the sunne:

So, euen amids my vice, my vertue shoane:

My selfe I sparde with [any] his cheate to stayne,

For loue and[1323] reuerence so I could refraine:

_Gisippus_ wife erst _Titus_ would desyre

With frendship’s breach, I quencht that brutish fyre:

Manly it is, to loth the fawning[1324] lust:

Small vaunt to flye, what[1325] of constreint thou must.

12.

These therefore rasde, if thou mine office skan,[1326]

Lo, none I hurt, but furdred euery man:

My chamber _England_ was, my staffe the law,

Wereby, sauns rygour, all I held in awe:

So louing to all, so[1327] belou’d of all,

As, (what ensude vppon my bloudy fall

Though I ne felt) yet suerly this I thinke,

Full many a trickling teare their mouths did drinke.

13.

Disdayne not, princes, easie accesse, meeke cheare,

Wee knowe then angels statelier port ye beare

Of God himselfe, to massy a charge for sprites:

But then, my lords, considre, hee delights

To vayle his grace to vs pore earthly wants,

To simplest shrubs, and to the dunghill plants:

Expresse him then, in might, and mercies meane,

So shall ye winne, as now ye weld,[1328] the reame.

14.

But all to long I feare I do delay

The many meanes, whereby I did bewray

My zealous will to earne my prince’s grace,

Least thou differ to thinke mee kynde, percase:

As nought may last, so fortune’s weathry[1329] cheare

With powting lookes gan lower on my sire,

And one her wheele, aduaunst hye in his roome

The _Warwicke_ earle, mase of Christendome.[1330]

15.

Besides the tempting prowesse of the foe,

His traytour brother did my prince forgoe:[1331]

The cause was lik’d, I was his link’d[1332] allye:

Yet not the cause, nor brother’s trechery,

Nor enmies force, ne[1333] band of mingled bloud,

Made _Hastings_ beare his prince other[1334] minde then good:

But tane and scapt from _Warwick’s_ gryping pawes,

With mee hee fled through fortune’s frowards flawes.

16.

To _London_ come, at large wee might haue seemed,

Had not wee then the realme a pryson deemed:

Ech hush a barre, ech spray a banner splayed,

Ech house a fort, our passage to haue stayed:

To _Linne_ wee leape, where, while wee wayte[1335] the tyde,

My secret frends in secret I supplyde,

In mouth to mayntayne[1336] _Henry_ sixt theyr king,

By deede to deuoyre: _Edward_ to bring in.[1337]

17.

The restles tyde, that bare[1338] the empty bay,

With waltring waues roames wambling forth: ‘away,’

The mery mariner hayles,[1339] the bragging boy

To mastes hye top, vp hyes: in signe of ioy

The wauering flag is vaunst: the suttel[1340] seas

Theyr swelling ceasse: to calmest, euen peace,

Sinkth downe theyr pryde: with dronknesse gainst all care

The seamen armde, awayte theyr noble fare.

18.

On bourd wee come: the massy anchors wayde,

One _English_ ship, two hulkes of _Holland_ ayde

In such a pinch: so small tho was the trayne,

Such his constraynt, that now, that one with payne

Commaund hee might, who erst might[1341] many moe:

Then brought the ghastly _Greekes_ to[1342] _Tenedo_:

So nought is ours that wee by hap mought[1343] lose,

What nerest seemes, is farthest off in woes.

19.

As banisht wightes, such ioyes wee mought[1344] haue made,

Easde of aye threatning death, that late we dradde:

But once our countrey’s sight, not care, exempt,

No harbour shewing, that mought[1345] our feare relent,

No couert caue, no shrub to shroud our lyues,

No hollow wood, no flyght, that oft depriues

The mighty his pray, no sanctuary left,

For exilde prince, that shrowdes ech slaue from theft.

20.

In prison pent, whose woddy walles to passe

Of no lesse perill then the dying was:

With the ocean moated, battred with the waues,

(As chaind at oares, the wretched galley slaues

At mercy sit of sea and enmies shot,

And shonne with death what[1346] they with flight may not)

But greenish waues, and desert[1347] lowring skies

All comfort els forclosde our exilde eyes.

21.

Loe, loe, from hiest top, the slauish boy

Sent vp, with sight of land our harts to ioy,

Descries at hand whole[1348] flete of _Easterlinges_,

As then hote enemies of the _British_ kinges:

The mouse may somtyme helpe the lyon in neede,

The byttle bee once spilt the aegle’s breede:

O princes, seeke no foes, in your distresse,

The earth, the seas conspire your heauinessse.

22.

Our foe discryed by flight wee shon in hast,

And lade with canuas now the bending mast:

The ship was rackt to try her sayling then,

As squirels clyme the troupes of trusty men:

The steresman seekes a redier course to ronne,

The souldier stirs, the gonner hies to gonne,

The _Flemings_ sweate, the _English_ shyp disdaines

To waite behind to beare the _Fleming’s_ traines.

23.

Forth flyes[1349] the barke, as from the violent goonne

The pellet pearc’th[1350] all stayes and stops eft soone:

And swift shee swimmeth,[1351] as oft in sunny day

The dolphin fleetes in seas, in mery May:

As wee for liues, so th’ _Esterlinges_ for gayne

Thwack on the sayles, and after make amayne:

Though laden[1352] they were, and of burden great,

A king to master yet, what swayne[1353] nold sweat?

24.

So mid the vale the greyhound seeyng stert

His fearefull foe,[1354] pursu’th: before she flert’th,[1355]

And where shee turn’th, hee turn’th her there to beare:

The one pray prick’th,[1356] the other saftye’s feare:

So were wee chasde, so fled wee fore[1357] our foes:

Bet flight then fight in so vneuen close,

I end: some thinke perhaps, too long hee stay’th,[1358]

In perill present shewing his fixed fayth.

25.

This ventred I, this dread I did sustayne,

To try my trueth, my life I did disdayne:

But, loe, like tryall gaynst[1359] his ciuil foe:

Faythe’s worst is tryall, which is reseru’d[1360] to woe:

I passe our scape, and sharp retourning home,

Where we were welcomde with[1361] our wonted sone,

To battayle mayne discendes the empyre’s right,

At _Barnet_ ioynde the hoastes in bloudy fight.

26.

There ioynde three battailes, rangde in such array,

As mought for terrour _Alexander_ fray:

What should I stay to tell the long discourse?

Who wan the palme? who bare away the worse?

Suffis’th[1362] to say, by my reserued band

Our enmyes fled, wee had the vpper hand:

My iron army held her steady place,

My prince to shield, his feared foe to chase.

27.

The like successe befell [mee] in _Tewkesbury_ fielde,

My furious force, there forc’d perforce, to yeelde

The traytour foe:[1363] and render to my king

Her only sonne, least hee more bate might bring:

Thus haste [thou] a mirour of a subiect’s minde,

Such as perhaps is rare agayne to finde:

The caruing cuts, that cleue the trusty steele,

My fayth, and due alleigaunce, could not feele.

28.

But out, alas, what prayse may I recount

That is not spic’d[1364] with spot, that doth surmount

My greatest vaunt? for bloudy war[1365] to feete

A tyger was I, all for peace vnmeete:

A souldier’s handes must oft bee dyde with goare,

Least starke with rest, they finewd wax and hoare:

Peace could I win by war, but peace not vse:

Few dayes enioy[1366] hee, who warlike peace doth choose.

29.

When _Crofts_ a knight, presented _Henrye’s_ heyr

To this our prince, in furious moode, enquyre

Of him hee gan, what folly or phrensy vayne,

With armyes[1367] forc’d him to inuade his realme againe?

Whom answering that he claimde his father’s right,

With gauntlet smit, commaunded from his sight,

_Clarence_, _Glocester_, _Dorcet_, and I _Hastings_, slue:[1368]

The guylt whereof wee shortly all did rue.

30.

_Clarence_, as _Cyrus_, drownd in bloud-like wyne,

_Dorcet_ I furthered to his speedy pyne,

Of mee, my selfe am speaking president,

Nor easier fate the bristled boare is lent:

Our blouds haue payd the vengeaunce of our guilt,

His fryed bones shall broyle for bloud he spilt:[1369]

O waltsome[1370] murder that attaynts[1371] our fame,

O horrible[1372] traytours, wanting worthy name.

31.

Who more[1373] mischieuously of all states[1374] deserue,

As better they, who such did first[1375] preserue:[1376]

If those, for giftes,[1377] wee recken heauenly wightes,

These may wee well deeme fendes and damned sprites:

And while on earth they walke, disguised deuils,

Sworne foes of vertue, factours for all euils:

Whose bloudy handes torment theyr goared hartes,

Through bloudsheds horrour, in soundest sleepe he sterts.

32.

O happy world, were the lyons men,

All lyons should at least be spared then:

No surety now, no lasting league is bloud,

A meacocke is,[1378] who dreadth to see bloudshed:

Stale is the paterne, the fact must needes be rife:[1379]

While ii. were armyes: ii. the issues of first wife,

With armed heart and hand, the one bloudy brother

With cruell chase pursueth and murdereth the other.

33.

Which who defieth[1380] not? yet who ceaseth to sue?

The bloudy _Caynes_ theyr bloudy sire renew:

The horrour yet is like in common frayes:

For in ech murther, brother brother slayes:

Traytours to nature, countrey, kin and kinde,

Whome no bond serueth in brother’s zeale[1381] to bynde:

O simple age, when slaunder slaughter was,

The tongue’s small euill, how doth this mischiefe passe.

34.

Hopest thou to cloake couert thy[1382] mischiefe wrought?

Thy conscience, caytife, shall proclayme thy thought:

A vision, _Chaucer_ sheweth, discloasd[1383] thy crime:

The foxe descry the crowes and chattering pyen:

And shall thy felow felons not bewray

The guiltles death, whome guilty handes doe slay?

Unpunisht scapt for haynous cryme someone,

But vnauengde, in minde or body, none.

35.

Vengeaunce on my[1384] mynd, the freating furies take:

The sinfull coarse, lyke earthquake agewes shake:

Their frouning lookes, theyr frounced[1385] myndes bewray:

In hast they runne, and mids their race they stay,

As gidded roe: amids their speach they whist,

At meate they muse, noe where they may persist,

But some feare netleth them: ay, hang they soe,

Soe neuer wants[1386] the wicked murthrer woe.

36.

An infant rent with lyon’s ramping pawes?

Why slaunder I lyons? they feare the sacred lawes

Of princes[1387] bloud: ay mee, more brute then beast,

With princes[1388] sides, _Lycaon’s_ pye to feast?

O tyrant tigers, O insatiable[1389] wolues,

O _English_ curtesie, monstrous mawes and gulfes:

My death shall forthwith preach my earned meede,

Yf fyrst to one lyke murther I proceede.[1390]

37.

Before our prince commaunded once his death,

Our bloudy swords on him we did vnsheath,

Preuenting law, and euen our prince’s hest,

Wee hid our weapons in the yongling’s brest:

Whom not desire of reigne did driue to field,

But mother’s pride, who longd the realm to weld:

But straight my death shall shewe my worthy meede,

If first to one other murther I proceede.[1391]

38.

While _Edward_ liu’d, dissembled discord lurked,

In double hartes yet soe his reuerence worked:

But when succeding tender feble age,

Gaue open gap to tyrant’s rushing rage:

I holpe the boare, and bucke, to captiuate

Lord _Riuers_, _Gray_, sir _Thomas Vaughan_ and _Hawte_:

Yf land woulde helpe the sea, well earnd that ground

It selfe, to bee with conquering waues surround.

39.

Their speedy death by priuy doome, procured

At _Pomfret_: tho my lyfe short while endured,

My selfe I slue, when them I damned to death,

At once my throate I riued, and reft them breath:

For that selfe day, afore[1392] or neare the howre,

That withred _Atropos_ nipt that[1393] springing flowre

With vyolent hand of their forth running lyfe:

My head and body, in tower twynde like knyfe.

40.

By this my paterne, all ye peeres beware:

Oft hangeth hee himselfe, who others weenth to snare:

Spare to be ech other’s butcher: feare the kite,

Who soarth[1394] aloft, while frog and mouse doe fight

In ciuill combat, grappling, voyde of feare

Of foreyne foe, at once all both to beare:

Which playner by my pytied playnt to see,

A while anew your listning lend to mee.

41.

Too true it is two sondry assemblies kept,

At _Crosbie’s_ place, and _Baynard’s_ castle set:

The duke’s at _Crosbie’s_ but at _Baynard’s_ wee:

The one to crowne a king, the other to bee:

Suspicious is secession of foule frends,

When eyther’s drift to other’s[1395] mischiefe tends:

I fearde the end, my _Catesbie’s_ being there

Dischargde all doubts: him held I most entyre.

42.

Whose great preferment by my meanes, I thought

Some spurre, to pay the thankfulnes hee ought:

The trust hee ought mee, made mee trust him so,

That priuy hee was both to my weale and woe:

My hart’s one halfe, my chest of confidence,

My treasure’s trust,[1396] my ioy dwelt in his presence:

I lou’d[1397] him, _Baldwine_, as the apple of mine eye,

I lothde my life when _Catesby_ would mee dye.

43.

Flye from thy chanell Thames, forsake thy streames,

Leave the adamaunt iron, _Phœbus_ lay thy[1398] beames,

Ceasse heauenly sphears at last your weary warke,

Betray your charge, retourne to chaos darke:

At least, some ruthles tiger hang her whelp,

My _Catesby_ so with some excuse to help,

And mee to comfort, that I, alone, ne seme

Of all dame nature’s workes, left[1399] in extreme.

44.

A golden treasure is the tryed frend,

But who may gold from counterfayts defend?

Trust not too[1400] soone, ne all too light mistrust:[1401]

With th’one thy selfe with th’other thy frend thou hurtst:

Who twyn’th betwixt, and stear’th[1402] the golden meane,

Nor rashly lou’th,[1403] nor mistrusteth in vayne:

For frendship poyson, for safety mithridate

It is, thy frend to loue as thou wouldst hate.[1404]

45.

Of tickle credit ne had ben the mischiefe,

What needed _Virbius_ miracle doubled life?

Credulity surnamed first the _Aegean_ seas;

Mistrust, doth treason in the trustiest rayse:

Suspicious _Romulus_, staynd his walls first reard

With brother’s bloud, whom for light leape hee feard:

So not in brotherhoode ielousie may be borne,

The ielous cuckold weares th’infamous[1405] horne.

46.

A beast may preach by tryall, not foresight:

Could I haue shond this[1406] credit, nere had light

The dreaded death vpon my guilty heade:

But fooles aye wont to learne by after reade:

Had _Catesby_ kept vnstaynd the truth he plight,

Yet had yee enioyde me, and I yet the light:

All _Derbie’s_ doubts I clered with his name:

I knew, no harme could hap vs, _sauns_ his[1407] blame.

47.

But see the fruites of fickle[1408] light beliefe:

Th’[1409] ambitious dukes corrupt the traytour thiefe,

To groape mee, if allurde I would assent,

To bin a partner of theyr curst entent:

Whereto, when neyther force nor frenship[1410] vaylde,

By tyraunt force theyr purpose they assaylde,[1411]

And summond shortly a counsaile in the tower,

Of _Iune_ the fifteenth, at apoynted hower.

48.

Alas, are counsels wryed to catch the good?

Is no place[1412] now exempt from sheading bloud?

Sith counsels, that were carefull to preserue

The guiltlesse good, are meanes to make them starue,

What may not mischiefe of mad man abuse?

Religious cloake some one to vice doth chuse,

And maketh God protectoure of his cryme:

O monstrous world, well ought wee wish thy fine.

49.

The fatall skies, roll on the blackest day,

When doubled bludshed, must my bloud repay,[1413]

Others none forceth: to mee sir _Thomas Haward_

As spurre is buckled, to prouoke mee forward,

_Derby_, who fearde the party[1414] sittings yore,

Whether, much more hee knew by experience hoare,

Or vnaffected,[1415] clearer truth could see:

At midnight darke this message sendes to mee:[1416]

50.

“_Hastings_, away, in sleepe the gods foreshew

By dreadfull dreame, fell fates vnto vs two:

Mee thought a boare with tuske so rasde our throate,

That both our shoulders of the bloud did smoake:

Arise, to horse, strayght homeward let vs hye,

And sith our foe wee may not mate,[1417] O flye:

Of Chaunteclere you learne dreames soth to know,

Thence wise men conster,[1418] more then the cocke doth crow.”

51.

While thus hee spake, I held within myne arme

_Shore’s_ wife, the tender peece, to keepe mee warme:

Fye on adultry, fye on leacherous lust,

Marke in mee, yee nobles all, God’s iudgements iust:

A pandare, murtherer, and adulterer thus,

Onely such death I dye, as I ne blushe:

Now, least my dame mought feare appall[1419] my hart:

With eger moode vp in my bed I starte.

52.

“And, is thy lord,” quoth I, “a sorcerer?

A wise man now become a dreame reader?

What though so Chaunteclere crowed? I reke it not:

On my part pled’th[1420] as well dame Partelot:

Uniudgde hangth yet the case betwixt them tway,

Ne was his dreame cause of his hap I say:

Shall dreming doubts from prince my seruing[1421] slacke?

Nay, then mought[1422] _Hastings_ lyfe and liuing lacke.”

53.

Hee parteth: I sleepe, my mynde surchargde with sinne,

As _Phœbus_ beames by misty cloude kept in,

Ne coulde misgieue, ne dreame of my mishap,

As blocke I tumbled to myne enmies trap:

Security causles through my carelesse[1423] frende,

Reft mee foresight of my approaching end:

So _Catesby_ clawed mee, as when the cat doth play,

Dalieng with mouse, whom strayght shee[1424] myndes[1425]

to slay.

54.

The morow come, the latest light to mee,

On palfray mounted, to the tower I hie,

Accompanied with that _Haward_ my mortall foe,

To slaughter led, thou God wouldst haue it so:[1426]

(O deepe dissemblers, honouring with your cheare,

Whom in hid hart ye trayterously teare;)

Neuer had realme so open signes of wracke,

As I had shewde mee of my heauy[1427] hap.

55.

The vision first of _Stanley_, late descryed:

Then mirth so extreme, that neare for ioy I dyed:

Were it, that swanlyke I foresong my death,

Or mery mynde foresaw the losse of breath,

That long it coueted, from this earth’s annoy:

But euen as siker as th’end of woe is ioy,

And glorious light to obscure night doth tend:

So extreame mirth in extreame moane doth end.

56.

For why, extreames are haps rackt out of course,

By violent might far swinged forth perforce,

Which as they are pearcingst while they violent’st moue,

For nearst they cleaue to[1428] cause that doth them shoue:

So soonest fall from that theyr high’st[1429] extreame,

To th’other contrary that doth want of meane:

So laught[1430] he erst, who laughed out his breath:

So laught[1430] I, when I laught my selfe to death.

57.

The pleasingst meanes boade not the luckiest ends,

Not aye found treasure to like pleasure tends,

Mirth meanes not mirth all time, thrise happy hyre

Of wit, to shun th’excesse[1431] that all desire:

But this I passe: I hye to other like;

My palfrey in the playnest paued streete,

Thrise bowed his boanes, thrise kneeled on the flowre,

Thrise shond (as _Balam’s_ asse) the dreaded towre.

58.

What, should I thinke hee had sence of after haps?

As beastes foreshew the drought, or rayny drops,

As humours in them want, or else abounde,

By influence from the heauens, or chaunge of ground,

Or doe we interpret by successe ech signe?

And as wee fancy, of ech hap deuyne?

And make that cause, that kin is to th’effect?

Not hauing ought of consequence respect?

59.

Bucephalus kneeling only to his lorde,

Shewde only, hee was monarche of the worlde:

Why may not then the steede foreshewe by fall,

What casuall hap the sitter happen shall?

Darius horse by braying bought a realme:

And what letteth, why he ne is (as the asse) God’s meane,

By speaking signe to shewe his hap to come,

Who is deafe hearer of his speaking dome?

60.

But forward yet: in _Tower_ streete I stayed,

Where (could I haue seene) loe, _Haward_, all bewrayed,

For as I commond with a priest I met:

“Away, my lord,” quoth he, “your time is ne yet

To take a priest.” Loe, _Synon_ might bee seene

Had _Troyans_ eares, as they had[1432] hares foole[1433] eyen:

But, whom thou God allotted hast to dye,[1434]

Some grace it is[1435] to dy with wimpled eye.

61.

Ne[1436] was this all: for euen at _Tower_ wharfe,

Neare to those walles within whose sight[1437] I starfe,

Where earst in sorrow soust and deepe distresse,

I emparted all my pining pensiuenesse

With _Hastings_: (so my purseuaunt men call)

Euen there, the same to meete it did mee fall:

Who gan to mee most dolefully renewe,

The woefull conference had erst in that lieu.

62.

“_Hastings_,” quoth I, “according now they[1438] fare,

At _Pomfret_ this day dying, who causde that care,

My selfe haue all the world now[1439] at my will,

With pleasures cloyed, engorged with the fill:”

“God graunt it so:” quoth hee: “Why doubtst thou tho?”

Quoth I, and all in chafe to him gan shewe

In ample wise, our drift with tedious tale:

And entred so the _Tower_ to my bale.

63.

What should wee thinke of signes? they are but haps,

How may they then be signes of afterclaps?

Doth euery chaunce foreshew or cause some other?

Or ending[1440] at it selfe, extendth no furder?

As th’ouerflowing floud some mount doth choake,

But to his ayde some other floud it yoake:

So, if with signes thy sinnes once ioyne, beware,

Els wherto chaunces tend, nere curious care.[1441]

64.

Had not my sinne deserude my death as wreake,

What might my mirth haue hurt? or horses becke?

Or _Haward’s_ bitter scoffe? or _Hastings_ talke?

What meane then foole astrologers to calke?[1442]

That twinckling sterres fling down the fixed fate?

And all is guyded by the sterry state?

Perdye, a certayne charge[1443] assignd they haue

To shyne, and tymes deuyde, not fate to graue.

65.

But graunt they somwhat geue: is,[1444] at one instant,

Of euery babe the byrth in heauen so skand,

That they that restles roll, and neuer stay,

Should in his lyfe beare yet so violent swaye:

That, not his actions onely next to byrth,

But all his life and[1445] death be[1446] swayed therwith

How may one mocion make so sundry affectes?

Or one impression tend to such respectes?

66.

Some rule there is yet: els, why were deferd

Til now, these plagues, so long ere now deserude?

If for they are trifles, they ne seme of care:

But toyes with God the stateliest[1447] scepters are:

Yet in them to playne doth appeare foreset,

The certayne rule and fatal limittes set,

Yet thinke we not, this sure foresetting fate,

But God’s fast prouidence for ech princely state.

67.

And hath he erst restraind his prouidence?

Or is he nigard of his fre dispence?

Or is he vncertayne foreset driftes to dryue?

That not dame chaunce but he al goodes may giue

A heathen god they hold whom fortune kepe,

To deale them haps while God they wene asleepe:

Mocke-gods they are and many gods induce,

Who fortune fayne to father their abuse.

68.

How so it be, it mought[1448] haue warned me,

But, what I could not, that in me see ye,

Who runne in race, the honour like to win,

Whose fairest forme nought may deforme but sin:

Alas, when most I did defye all dread,

By single heare death’s word hong ouer my head,

For herke the end and listen now my fall:

This is the last, and this the fruit of all.

69.

To counsayle chamber come, a while we stayd

For him, without whom nought was done or sayde:

At last he came, and courteously excused,

That he[1449] so long our patience had abused:

And pleasauntly began to paint his cheere,

And said: “My lord of _Elye_, would we had here

Some of the strawberies, wherof you haue store:

The last delighted me so as nothing more.”

70.

“Would, what so you[1450] wish, I mought as wel commaund,

My lord,” quoth he, “as those:” and out of hand

His seruaunt sendth to _Ely_ place for them:

Out goeth from vs the restlesse deuil againe:

Belike (I thinke) scarse yet perswaded ful,

To worke the mischiefe that did mad his[1451] scul:

At last determind of his bloudy thought

And force ordaynde to worke the wyle he sought.

71.

Frowning he enters, with so chaunged cheare,

As[1452] for mylde _May_ had chopped foule _Januere_:

And lowring on me with the goggle eye,

The whetted tuske, and furrowed[1453] forehead hye,

His crooked shoulder bristellike set vp.

With frothy iawes, whose foame he chawde and supd,

With angry lookes that flamed as the fyer:

Thus gan at last to grunt the grymest syre.

72.

“What meryte they, whom me[1454], the kingdome’s stay,

Contryued haue counsayle traiterously to slay?”

Abashed all sate: I thought I mought[1455] be bold,

For conscience, clearnesse, and acquaintance old:

“Their hire is playne,” quoth I, “be death the least

To whoso seketh your grace so to molest:”

Withouten stay: “The queene and the whore _Shore’s_ wyfe,

By witchcraft,” quoth he, “seke to wast my life.

73.

“Loe, here the wythered and bewytched arme,

That thus is spent by those two sorceresse’ charme:”

And bared his arme and shewed his swynish skinne,

Such cloaks they vse, that seke to clowd their sinne:

But out, alas, it serueth not for the rayne,

To al the house the colour was to playne:

Nature had giuen him many a maymed marke,

And it amonges to note her monstruous warke.

74.

My doubtfull harte distracted this replye:

For th’one I cared not: th’other nipt so nye

That whyst I cold not, but forthwith brake forth:

“If so it be, of death they are doubtlesse worth?”

“If, traitour?” quoth he, “playst thou with yfs and ands?

Ile on thy bodye auowe it with these hands:”

And therwithal he mightlye bounced the borde,

In rushd his byl-men, one himselfe bestird.

75.

Laying at lord _Stanley_, whose brain he had surely cleft,

Had he not downe beneathe the table crept:

But _Elye_, _Yorke_, and I, were taken straight,

Imprisoned they, I should no longer wait,

But charged was to shriue me, and shift with hast:

My lorde must dine, and now midday was past:

The bore’s first dish, not the bore’s head should be:

But _Hastinge’s_ head, the boarish beast would see.

76.

Why stay I his dinner? vnto the chappel ioyneth

A greenish hil, that body and soule oft twineth:

There on a blocke my head was striken of,

As _Baptiste’s_ head,[1456] for _Herode_ bloudy gnoffe:

Thus liued I, _Baldwin_, thus dyed I, thus I fel,

This is the summe, which al at large to tel

Would volumes fil: whence yet these lessons note

Ye noble lordes, to learne and ken by rote.

77.

By fylthy rising feare your names to stayne:

If not for vertue’s loue, for dread of payne,

Whom so the mindes vnquiet state vpheaues,

Be it for loue or feare, when fancye reaues

Reason her[1457] right, by mocking of the wyt,

If once the cause of this affection flit,

Reason preuayling on the vnbrideled thought:

Downe falth he who[1458] by fancye clymbe aloft.

78.

So hath the ryser fowle no stay from[1459] fal,

No not of those that raisde him first of al:

His suretie stands in mainteining the cause

That heaued him first, which reft by reason’s sawes,

Not onely falth he to his former state,

But liueth for euer in his prince’s hate:

And marke, my lordes, God for adultery sleath,

Though ye it thinke too sweete a sinne for death.

79.

Serue trulye your prince and feare not[1460] rebels might,

On princes halues the mightie God doth fight:

O much more then forsweare a forrein foe,

Who seeketh your realme and countrie to vndo:

Murther detest, haue handes vnstaind with bloud,

Aye with your succour do protect the good,

Chace treason where trust should be, wed to your frend

Your hart and power, to your liue’s last end.

80.

Flie tickle credit, shunne alike distrust:

To true it is, and credite it you must:

The ialous nature wanteth no stormy strife,

The simple soule aye leadeth a sower life:

Beware of flatterers, frendes in outward show:

Best is of such to make your[1461] open foe:

What al men seeke, that al men seeke to fayne,

Some such to bee, some such to seeme, them payne.

81.

Marke God’s iust iudgements, punishing sinne by sinn,

And slipperie state wherein aloft we swimme:

The prouerbe, al day vp if we ne fall,

Agreeth wel to vs hie heaued worldlinges al:

From common sort vpraisde[1462] in honour’s weede

We shine, while fortune false, whom none erst feede,

To stand with staye and forsweare ticklenesse,

Sowseth vs in myre of durtie brittlenesse.

82.

And learne ye princes by my wronged sprite,

Not to misconster what is ment aright,

The whinged wordes too oft preuent the wyt,

When silence cesseth afore the lips to sit:

Alas, what may the wordes yeld worthy death?

The wordes worst is, the speaker’s stinking breath:

Wordes are but winde, why cost they then so much

The guiltye kycke, when they to smartly touche.

83.

Forth irreturnable flyeth the spoken word,

Be hit in scoffe, in earnest, or in bourd:

Without retourne, and vnreceiued, hit hangs,

And at the taker’s mercie, or rigour, stands:

Which if he sowerly wrest with wrathful cheare,

The shiuering word turnes to the speaker’s feare:

If frendly curtesie do the word expound,[1463]

To the speaker’s comfort swetely it doth redound.[1464]

84.

Euen as the vapour which the fier repels,

Turnes not to earth, but in myd aer dwels

Where while it hangth, if _Boreas’_ frosty flawes

With rigour rattle it, not to rayne it thawes,

But thunder, lightninges, ratling hayle, or[1465] snowe,

Sendes downe to earth, whence first it rose below:

But if fayre _Phœbus_ with his countenaunce swete

Resolue it, downe the dew, or manna, sleete.[1466]

85.

(The manna dew, that in the easterne landes,

Excelth the labour of the bees small handes:)

Els for her _Memnon_ gray _Aurora’s_ teares,

On the earth it stilleth, the partener of her feares:

Or sendeth sweet showers to glad their mother earth,

Whence first they tooke their first inconstant birth:

To so great griefes, il taken wordes do[1467] grow:

Of wordes wel taken, such delightes do flow.

86.

This learned, thus be here at length an end,

What since ensued, to thee I wil commend:

Now farewel, _Baldwine_, shield my torne name,

From slaunderous trompe of blasting blacke defame:

But, ere I part, hereof thou record beare:

I claime no parte of vertues reckned here:

My vice my selfe, but God my vertues take:

So hence depart I, as I entred naked.

87.

Thus ended _Hastinges_ both his life and tale,

Contayning al his worldly blisse and bale:

Happye he liued, to happie but for sinne,

Happie hee dyed whom right his death did bring:

Thus euer happie, for there is no meane

Twixt blisseful liues and mortal deathe’s extreame:

Yet feared not his foes to staine his name,

And by these sclaunders to procure his shame.

88.

In rousty armure as in extreame shift,

They clad themselues, to cloake their diuelish drift:

And forthwith for substancial citezens sent,

Declaring to them, _Hastinges_ forged entent,

Was to haue slaine the duke: and to haue seised

The kinge’s young person, slaying whom he had pleas’d:

But God of iustice had withturnd that fate,

Which, where it ought, light on his proper pate.

89.

Then practised they by[1468] proclamation spred,

Nought to forget, that mought[1469] defame him dead:

Which was so curious, and so clerkely pend,

So long withal, that when some did attend

His death so young, they saw, that long before

The shroude was shaped, then babe to dye was bore:

So wonteth God to blinde the worldly wise,

That not to see, that al the world espies.

90.

One hearing it cried out: “A goodly cast,

And wel contriued, foule cast away for hast:”

Whereto another gan in scoffe replie,

“First pend it was by enspiring prophecie:”

So can God reape vp secret mischiefes wrought,

To the confusion of the workers thought:

My lords, the tub, that dround the _Clarence_ duke,

Dround not his death, nor yet his deathe’s rebuke.

91.

Your politique secrets gard with trusty loyalty:

So shal they lurke in most assured secrecie:

By _Hastinge’s_ death, and after fame, ye learne

The earth for murther cryeth out vengeance sterne:

Flye from his faultes, and spare to hurt his fame,[1470]

The eager houndes forbeare their slayne game;

Dead, dead, auaunt curres from the conquered chase,

Il mought[1471] he liue who loueth the dead to race.

92.

Thus liued this lorde, thus died he, thus he slept,

Mids forward race when first to rest he stept,

Enuious death that bounceth aswel with mace

At _Keysar’s_ courtes, as at the poorest gates:[1472]

When nature seemde to slow by arts sloape[1473] meane

Conueyghde him sooner to his liue’s extreame,

Happy, in preuenting woes that after hapt,

In slumber sweete his liuing lights hee lapt.

93.

Whose thus vntymely death, if any[1474] grieue,

Know hee, hee liu’d to dye, and dyde to liue:

Untymely neuer coms the liue’s last mett,

In cradell death may rightly clayme his[1475] debt:

Straight after byrth due is the fatall beere:

By death’s permission th’aged[1476] linger heere:

Euen in the swathbands our commission goeth

To loose thy breath, that yet but yongly bloweth.

94.

Happy, thryse happy, who so loosth his breath,

As life hee gayneth by his liuing[1477] death;

As _Hastings_ here, whom tyme and truth agree

T’engraue[1478] by fame in strong eternity:

Who spareth not spitting, if hee spit but bloud?

Yet this our lord, sparde not for other’s good:

With one sweete breath his present death to speake,

Against th’vsurpour bore, that hellish freake.[1479]

95.

Worthy to lyue, but[1480] lyu’d not for himselfe,

But prisde his fame more then this worldly pelfe:

Whose name and lyne, if any yet preserue,

Wee wish they liue like honour to deserue:

Whether thou seeke by martiall prowesse prayse,

Or _Pallas_ pollicie high thy name to rayse,

Or trusty seruice iust death to[1481] attaine:

_Hastings_ foreled: trace[1482] here his bloudy trayne.

Maister D.[1483]

[When I had read this, one sayd: “It was very darke, and hard to

bee vnderstoode: except it were diligently and very leasurely

considered.” “I like it the better,” sayd[1484] another, “for

that shall cause it to bee oftner read, and the better remembred.

Considering also that it is written for the learned (for such all

magistrates are, or should bee) it cannot be to hard, so long

as it is sound and learnedly written.” Then sayd the reader:

“The next here whome I finde miserable are king _Edward’s_ two

sonnes, cruelly murdered in the tower of _London_: haue you their

tragedy?” “No, surely,” sayd[1484] I, “The lord _Vaulx_ vndertoke

to pen it, but what hee hath done therein I am not certayne, and

therefore I let it passe till I knowe farder. I haue here the

duke of _Buckingham_, king _Richard’s_ chiefe instrument, written

by maister _Thomas Sackuille_.” “Read it we pray you,” sayd they.

“With a good will,” quoth[1484] I, “but first you shall heare

his Preface or Induction.” “Hath hee made a preface,” sayd[1484]

one, “what meaneth hee thereby, seeing none other hath vsed the

like order?” “I will tell you the cause thereof,” sayd[1484]

I, “which is this: after that hee vnderstoode that some of the

counsayl would not suffer the booke to bee printed in such order

as wee had agreede and determined, hee purposed to[1485] haue

gotten at my handes all the tragedies that were before the duke

of _Buckingham’s_, which hee would haue preserued in one volume.

And from that time backward, euen to the time of _William_ the

Conquerour, he determined to continue and perfect all the story

him selfe, in such order as _Lydgate_ (following _Bochas_) had

already vsed. And therefore to make a meete induction into the

matter, hee deuised this poesie: which (in my iudgement) is so

well penned, that I would not haue any verse thereof left out

of our volume. Now that you knowe the cause and meaning of his

doing, you shall also heare what hee hath done. His induction

beginneth thus.”][1486]

THE INDVCTION.[1487]

The wrathfull winter proching[1488] on apace,

With blustering blasts had all ybarde the treene,

And olde _Saturnus_ with his frosty face

With chilling cold had pearst the tender greene:

The mantles rent, wherein enwrapped beene

The gladsom groues that now lay ouerthrowne,

The tapets torne, and euery blome downe blowne.[1489]

The soyle, that erst so seemly was to seene,

Was all despoyled of her beauties hewe:

And soote-fresh flowers (wherewith the sommer’s queene

Had clad the earth) now _Boreas’_ blasts downe blewe:

And small foules, flocking, in theyr song did rewe

The winter’s wrath, wherewith ech thing defaste,

In woefull wise bewayld the sommer past.

Hawthorne had lost his motley liuery,

The naked twiges were shiuering all for cold:

And, dropping downe the teares aboundantly,

Ech thing, mee thought, with weeping eye mee tolde

The cruell season, bidding mee withholde

My selfe within, for I was gotten out

Into the fieldes, wheras I walkt[1490] about.

When loe the night with misty mantels spred

Gan darke the day, and dim the azure skies,[1491]

And _Venus_ in her message _Hermes_ sped

To bloudy _Mars_, to will him not to rise,

While shee her selfe approacht in speedy wise:

And _Virgo_ hyding her disdaynefull brest,

With _Thetis_ now had layde her downe to rest.

Whiles _Scorpio_ dreading _Sagittarius_ dart,

Whose bowe prest bent in fight, the string had slipt,

Down slide into the _Ocean_ flud aparte,

The _Beare_, that in the _Irish_ seas had dipt

His griesly feete, with speede from thence hee whipt:

For _Thetis_, hasting from the virgin’s bed,

Pursude the _Beare_, that, ere she came, was fled.

And _Phaeton_ now, neare reaching to his race

With glistring beames, gold-streaming where they bent,

Was prest to enter in his resting place:

_Erythius_, that in the cart fyrst went,

Had euen now attaynd his iorney’s stent:

And, fast declining, hid away his head,

While _Titan_ coucht him in his purple bed.

And pale _Cinthea_, with her borrowed light,

Beginning to supply her brother’s place,

Was past the noonesteede sixe degrees in sight,

When sparkling stars amid the heauen’s face,

With twinkling light shone on the earth apace,

That, while they brought about the nighte’s chare,[1492]

The darke had dimd the day, ere I was ware.

And sorrowing I to see the sommer flowers,

The liuely greene, the lusty lease,[1493] forlorne,

The sturdy trees so shattred with the showers,

The fieldes so fade, that florisht so beforne:

It taught mee well, all earthly things be borne

To dye the death: for nought long time may last:

The sommer’s beauty yeeldes to winter’s blast.

Then looking vpward to the heauen’s leames,[1494]

With nighte’s starres[1495] thicke powdred euery where,

Which erst so glistned with the golden streames

That chearfull _Phœbus_ spred downe from his sphere

Beholding darke, oppressing day, so neare:

The sodayne sight reduced to my mynde,

The sundry chaunges that in earth wee finde.

10.[1496]

That musing on this worldly wealth in thought,

Which coms, and goes, more faster than wee see

The flickring flame that with the fyre is wrought,

My busie mynde presented vnto mee

Such fall of peeres as in the[1497] realme had bee:

That oft I wisht some would their woes descryue,

To warne the rest whome fortune left a liue.

11.

And strait forth stalking with redoubled pace,

For that I sawe the night drew on so fast,

In blacke all clad there fell before my face

A piteous wight, whom woe had all forewast,

Forth on her eyes[1498] the cristall tears out brast,

And sighing sore her hands shee wrong and folde,

Tare all her hayre, that ruth was to beholde.

12.

Her body smale, forwithred, and forspent,

As is the stalke that sommer’s drought opprest,

Her wealked face with woefull teares bee sprent,

Her colour pale, and,[1499] as it seemed her best,

In woe and plaint reposed was her rest:

And, as the stone that drops of water weares,

So dented were her chekes with fall of teares,

13.

Her eyes swollen[1500] with flowing streams aflote,

Where, with her lookes throwne vp full piteously,

Her forcelesse hands together oft shee smote,

With dolefull shrikes, that eckoed in the skye:

Whose plaint such sighes did strait accompany,

That, in my doome, was neuer man did see

A wight but halfe so woe begone as shee.

14.

I stoode agast, beholding all her plight,

Tweene dread and dolour, so distreinde in hart,

That, while my hayres vpstarted with the sight,

The teares out streamde for sorow of her smart:

But, when I sawe no end that could appart[1501]

The deadly dewle which shee soe sore did make,

With dolefull voice then thus to her I spake:

15.

“Unwrap thy woes, what euer wight thou bee,

And stint in tyme[1502] to spill thy self with playnt,

Tell what thou art, and whence, for well I see

Thou canst not dure, with sorrow thus attaynt:”

And, with that word of sorrow, all forfaynt

Shee looked vp, and, prostrate, as shee lay,

With piteous sound, lo, thus shee gan to say:

16.

“Alas, I wretch, whom thus thou seest distraynde

With wasting woes, that neuer shall aslake,

_Sorrow_ I am, in endlesse torments paynde

Among the furies in th’infernall[1503] lake,

Where _Pluto_ god of hell so griesly blacke

Doth holde his throne, and _Lætheus_[1504] deadly tast

Doth rieue remembraunce of ech thing forepast.

17.

“Whence come I am, the drery desteny,

And lucklesse lot for to bemone of those

Whome fortune, in this maze of misery,

Of wretched chaunce, most wofull mirours chose,

That, when thou seest how lightly they did lose

Their pompe, their power, and that they thought most sure

Thou mayst soone deeme no earthly ioy[1505] may dure.”

18.[1506]

Whose rufull voice no sooner had out brayed

Those wofull words, wherewith shee sorrowed so,

But out, alas, shee shright, and neuer stayed,

Fell downe, and al to dasht her selfe for wo:

The cold pale dread my limmes gan ouergo,

And I so sorrowed at her sorrowes eft,

That, what with griefe, and feare, my wits were reft.

19.

I stretcht my selfe, and strayt my hart reuiues,

That dread and dolour erst did so appale,

Like him that with the feruent feuer striues,

When sicknesse seekes his castell[1507] health to skale:

With gathred sprites[1508] so forst I feare to auale:[1509]

And, rearing her, with anguish all foredone,

My sprits returnd,[1510] and then I thus begon:

20.

“O _Sorrow_, alas, sith _Sorrow_ is thy name,

And that to thee this drere doth well pertayne,

In vayne it were to seeke to cease the same:

But, as a man himselfe with sorrow slayne,

So I, alas, doe comfort thee in payne,

That here in sorrow art forsunke so deepe,

That at thy sight I can but sigh and weepe.”

21.

I had no sooner spoken of a syke,[1511]

But that the storme so rumbled in her brest,

As _Eölus_ could neuer roare the like,

And showers downe raynde from her eyes[1512] so fast,

That all bedreint the place, till, at the last,

Well eased they the dolour of her minde,

As rage of rayne doth swage the stormy winde:

22.

For forth shee paced in her fearefull tale:

“Come, come,” quod shee, “and see what I shall showe,[1513]

Come, heare the playning and the bitter bale

Of worthy men, by fortune’s[1514] ouerthrowe:

Come thou, and see them rewing all in rowe,

They were but shades, that erst in minde thou rolde:

Come, come with mee, thine eyes shall them beholde.”

23.

What coulde these wordes but make mee more agast,

To heare her tell whereon I musde while ere?

So was I mazde therewith, till, at the last,

Musing vpon her words, and what they were,

All sodaynly well lessoned was my feare:

For to my minde retourned, how shee teld

Both what shee was, and where her wun shee helde.

24.

Whereby I knewe that she a goddesse was,

And, therewithall, resorted to my minde

My thought, that late presented mee the glas

Of brittle state, of cares that here wee finde,

Of thousand woes to seely[1515] men assynde:

And how shee now bid mee come and beholde,[1516]

To see with eye that earst in thought I rolde.

25.

Flat downe I fell, and with all reuerence

Adored her, perceiuing now, that shee,

A goddesse, sent by godly prouidence,

In earthly shape thus shewd her selfe to mee,

To wayle and rue this world’s vncertainty:[1517]

And, while I honourd thus her godhead’s might,

With plaining voyce these words to mee shee shright.

26.

“I shall thee guyde first to the griesly lake,

And thence vnto the blissfull place of rest,

Where thou shalt see, and heare, the playnt they make

That whilome here bare swinge among the best:

This shalt thou see: but greate is the vnrest

That thou must byde, before thou canst attayne

Unto the dreadfull place where these remayne.”

27.

And, with these words, as I vpraysed stood,

And gan to followe her that straight forth paste,[1518]

Ere I was ware, into a desert woode

Wee now were come: where, hand in hand imbraste,[1519]

Shee led the way, and through the thicke so traste,[1520]

As, but I had bene guided by her might,

It was no way for any mortall wight.

28.

But, loe, while thus amid the desert darke

Wee passed on, with steps and pace vnmeete,

A rumbling roare, confusde with howle and barke

Of dogs, shoke all the ground vnder our feete,

And stroke the din within our eares so deepe,

As, halfe distraught, vnto the ground I fell,

Besought retourne, and not to visite hell.

29.

But shee, forthwith, vplifting mee a pace,

Remoude my dread, and, with a stedfast minde,

Bad mee come on, for here was now the place,

The place where wee our trauail’s end[1521] should finde:

Wherewith I rose,[1522] and to the place assignde

Astoinde I stalkt, when strayght wee approached nere

The dreadfull place, that you will dread to here.

30.

An[1523] hideous hole, all vaste, withouten shape,

Of endles depth, orewhelmde with ragged stone,

With ougly mouth, and griesly iawes doth gape,

And to our sight confounds it selfe in one:

Here entred wee, and, yeeding forth, anone

An horrible lothly[1524] lake wee might discerne,

As blacke as pitch that cleped is _Auerne_.

31.

A deadly gulfe: where nought but rubbish grows,

With fowle blacke swelth in thickned lumps that lies,

Which vp in th’ayre[1525] such stinking vapors throws

That ouer there, may flie no fowle, but dyes

Choakt with the pestilent[1526] sauours that arise:

Hither wee come, whence forth wee still did pace,

In dreadfull feare amid the dreadfull place:

32.

And, first, within the porch and iawes of hell

Sate deepe _Remorse of Conscience_, all bee sprent

With teares: and to her selfe oft would shee tell

Her wretchednes, and, cursing, neuer stent

To sob and sighe: but euer thus lament,

With thoughtfull care, as shee that, all in vaine,

Would weare, and waste continually in payne.

33.

Her[1527] eyes vnstedfast, rolling here and there,

Whurld on each place, as place that vengeaunce brought,

So was her minde continually in feare,

Tossed[1528] and tormented with the[1529] tedious thought

Of those detested crymes which shee had wrought:

With dreadfull cheare, and lookes throwne to the skie,

Wishing for death, and yet shee could not die.

34.

Next, sawe wee _Dread_, all trembling how hee shooke,

With foote, vncertayne, profered here and there:

Benomd of speach, and, with a ghastly looke,

Searcht euery place, all pale and dead for feare,

His cap borne vp with staring of his heare,

Stoynde and amazde at his owne shade for dreede,

And fearing greater daungers then was neede.

35.

And, next, within the entry of this lake,

Sate fell _Reuenge_, gnashing her teeth for ire,

Deuising meanes how shee may vengeaunce take,

Neuer in rest, till shee haue her desire:

But frets within so farforth with the fire

Of wreaking flames, that now determines shee

To dy by death, or vengde by death to bee.

36.

When fell reuenge, with bloudy foule pretence

Had showde her selfe, as next in order set,

With trembling lims wee softly parted thence,

Till in our eyes another sight wee met:

When fro my heart a sigh forthwith I fet,

Rewing, alas, vpon the woefull plight

Of _Misery_, that next appeard in sight.

37.

His face was leane, and somedeale pynde away

And eke his hands consumed to the bone,

But what his body was, I cannot say,

For on his carkas rayment had hee none,

Saue clouts and patches pieced one by one,

With staffe in hand, and scrip on shoulder[1530] cast,

His chiefe defence agaynst the winter’s blast.

38.

His foode, for most, was wilde fruites of the tree,

Unlesse sometime some crums fell to his share,

Which in his wallet long, God wot, kept hee,

As one the which full daintely would fare:[1531]

His drinke, the running streame, his cup, the bare

Of his palme cloasde, his bed, the hard cold ground:

To this poore life was _Misery_ ybound.

39.

Whose wretched state when wee had well beheld,

With tender ruth on him, and on his feres,

In thoughtfull cares forth then our pace wee held:

And, by and by, another shape apperes

Of greedy _Care_, still brushing vp the breres,

His knuckles knobde, his flesh deepe dented in,

With tawed hands, and hard ytanned skin.

40.

The morrowe gray no sooner hath begon

To spreade his light, euen peping in our eyes,

When[1532] hee is vp, and to his worke yrun:

But let the night’s blacke misty mantles rise,

And with foule darke neuer so mutch disguise

The fayre bright day, yet ceasseth hee no while,

But hath his candels to prolong his toyle.

41.

By him lay heauy _Sleepe_, the[1533] cosin of _Death_,

Flat on the ground, and still as any stone,

A very corps, saue yelding forth a breath:

Smale kepe tooke hee, whome fortune frowned on,

Or whom shee lifted vp into the throne

Of high renoune, but, as a liuing death,

So, dead aliue, of life hee drew the breath.

42.

The bodie’s rest, the quiet of the hart

The trauailes ease, the still night’s feere was hee:

And of our life in earth the better part,

Reuer of sight, and yet in whom wee see

Things oft that tyde,[1534] and oft that neuer bee:

Without respect, esteming[1535] equally

King _Crœsus’_ pompe, and _Irus’_ pouertie.

43.

And next, in order sad, _Old Age_ wee found,

His beard all hoare, his eyes hollow and blind,

With drouping chere still poring on the ground,

As on the place where nature him assinde

To rest, when that the sisters had vntwynde

His vitall thred, and ended with their knyfe

The fleting course of fast declyning lyfe.

44.

There heard wee him with broke[1536] and hollow plaint

Rewe with him selfe his end approching fast,

And all for nought his wretched mind torment,

With sweete remembraunce of his pleasures past,

And fresh delytes of lusty youth forewast:

Recounting which, how would hee sob and shrike?

And to bee yong agayne of loue beseke.

45.

But, and[1537] the cruell fates so fixed bee,

That tyme forepast cannot retourne agayne,

This one request of Ioue yet prayed hee:

That, in such withred plight, and wretched paine,

As eld, accompanied with his[1538] lothsome trayne,

Had brought on him, all were it woe and griefe,

Hee might a while yet linger forth his liefe.

46.

And not so soone discend into the pit:

Where _Death_, when hee the mortall corps hath slayne,

With retchlesse hand in graue doth couer it,

Therafter neuer to enioy agayne

The gladsome light, but, in the ground ylayne,

In depth of darknesse wast and weare to nought,

As hee had nere[1539] into the world bene brought.

47.

But who had seene him, sobbing, how hee stoode,

Unto himselfe, and how hee would bemone

His youth forepast, as though it wrought him good

To talke of youth, all were his youth foregone,

Hee would haue musde, and meruaylde much, whereon

This wretched _Age_ should life desire so fayne,

And knowes full well lyfe doth but length his payne.

48.

Crookebackt hee was, toothshaken, and blere eyde,

Went on three feete, and somtyme,[1540] crept on fowre,

With olde lame boanes, that ratled by his syde,

His scalpe all pild, and hee with eld forlore:

His withred fist still knocking at _Death’s_ dore,

Fumbling, and driueling, as hee drawes his breath,[1541]

For briefe, the shape and messenger of _Death_.

49.

And fast by him pale _Malady_ was plaste,

Sore sicke in bed, her coulour all foregone,

Bereft of stomacke, sauour, and of taste,

Ne could shee brooke no meate, but broths alone:

Her breath corrupt, her kepers euery one

Abhorring her, her sicknes past recure,

Detesting phisicke, and all phisicke’s cure.

50.

But, oh,[1542] the dolefull sight that then wee see,

Wee tournd our looke, and, on the other side,

A griesly shape of _Famine_ mought wee see,

With greedy lookes, and gaping mouth, that cryed

And roarde for meate, as shee should there haue dyed,

Her body thin, and bare as any bone,

Whereto was left nought but the case alone.

51.

And that, alas, was gnawne on euery where,

All full of holes, that I ne mought refrayne

From tears, to see how shee her armes could teare,

And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vayne:

When, all for nought, shee fayne would so sustayne

Her staruen corps, that rather seemde a shade,

Then any substaunce of a creature made.

52.

Great was her force, whome stone wall could not stay,

Her tearing nayles snatching at all shee sawe:

With gaping iawes, that by no[1543] meanes ymay

Be satisfide from hunger of her mawe,

But eates herselfe as shee that hath no lawe:

Gnawing, alas, her carkas all in vayne,

Where you may count ech sinew, bone, and veyne.

53.

On her while wee thus firmly fixt our eyes,

That bled for ruth of such a drery sight,

Loe, sodaynly shee shrikt[1544] in so huge wise,

As made hell gates to shiuer with the might:

Wherewith, a dart wee sawe, how it did light

Right on her brest, and, therewithall, pale _Death_

Enthrilling it, to reue her of her breath.

54.

And, by and by, a dum dead corps wee sawe,

Heauy, and colde, the shape of death aright:

That daunts all earthly creatures to his lawe:

Against whose force in vaine it is to fight:

Ne peeres, ne princes, nor no mortall wyght,

No townes, ne realmes, cittyes, ne strongest tower,

But all, perforce, must yeelde vnto his power.

55.

His dart, anon, out of the corps hee tooke,

And in his hand (a dreadfull sight to see)

With great tryumph eftsones the same hee shooke;

That most of all my feares affrayed mee:

His body dight with nought but bones, perdye,

The naked shape of man there saw I plaine,

All saue the flesh, the sinow, and the vaine.

56.

Lastly, stoode _Warre_, in glittering[1545] armes yclad,

With visage grym, sterne lookes,[1546] and blackly hewed

In his right hand a naked sworde hee had,

That to the hilts was all with bloud embrued:

And in his left (that king[1547] and kingdomes rewed)

Famine and fyer he held, and therewithall

He razed townes, and threw downe towres and all.

57.

Cities hee sakt, and realmes (that whilome flowred

In honour, glory, and rule, aboue the best)

Hee ouerwhelmde, and all theire fame deuoured,

Consumde, destroyde, wasted and neuer ceast,

Tyll hee theire wealth, theire name, and all opprest:

His face forehewde with wounds, and by his side

There hung his targ, with gashes deepe and wide.

58.

In mids of which, depainted there, wee founde

Deadly _Debate_, all full of snaky heare,

That with a bloudy fillet was ybound,

Out breathing nought but discord euery where:

And round about were portrayde, here and there,

The hugy hostes, _Darius_ and his power,

His kings, princes, his peeres,[1548] and all his flower.

59.[1549]

Whom great _Macedo_ vanquisht there in sight,

With deepe slaughter, despoyling all his pryde,

Pearst through his realmes, and daunted all his might:

Duke _Hanniball_ beheld I there besyde,

In _Canna’s_ field, victor how hee did ryde,

And woefull _Romaynes_ that in vayne withstoode,

And consull _Paulus_ couered all in blood.

60.

Yet sawe I more the sight at _Trasimene_,

And _Treby_[1550] field, and eke when _Hanniball_

And worthy _Scipio_ last in armes were sene

Before _Carthago_ gate, to try for all

The world’s empyre, to whom it should befall:

There saw I _Pompey_, and _Cæsar_ clad in arms,

Their hoasts allied and all their ciuill harms:

61.

How _George Plantagenet_, third sonne of the Duke