With conquerers hands, forbathde in thei_Mirror for Magistrates, Volume 2, Part 1

And _Cæsar_ weeping ouer _Pompey’s_ head:

Yet saw I _Scilla_ and _Marius_ where they stood,

Their greate crueltie, and the deepe bloudshed

Of frends: _Cyrus_ I saw and his host dead,

And howe the queene with greate despite hath flong

His head in bloud of them shee ouercome.

62.

_Xerxes_, the _Percian_ king, yet sawe I there,

With his huge host, that dranke the riuers drye,

Dismounted hills, and made the vales vprere,

His hoste and all yet sawe I slayne, perdye:

_Thebes_ I sawe,[1551] all razde how it did lye

In heapes of stones, and _Tyrus_ put to spoyle,

With walls and towers flat euened with the soyle.

63.

But _Troy_, alas, mee thought, aboue them all,

It made myne eyes in very teares consume:

When I behelde the woefull werd befall,

That by the wrathfull will of gods[1552] was come:

And _Ioue’s_ vnmoued sentence and foredoome

On _Priam_ king, and on his towne so bent,

I could not lin, but I must there lament.

64.

And that the more sith desteny was so sterne

As, force perforce,[1553] there might no force auayle,

But shee must fall: and, by her fall, wee learne,

That cities, towers, welth, world, and all shall quaile:

No manhood, might, nor nothing mought preuayle,

All were there prest full many a prince, and peere,

And many a knight that solde his death full deere.

65.

Not worthy _Hector_, worthyest of them all,

Her hope, her ioy, his force is now for nought:

O _Troy_, _Troy_,[1554] there is no boote but bale,

The hugie horse within thy walls is brought:

Thy turrets fall, thy knights, that whilome fought

In armes amid the field, are slayne in bed,

Thy gods defylde, and all thy honour dead.

66.

The flames vpspring,[1555] and cruelly they creepe

From wall to roofe, till all to cinders waste,

Some fyre the houses where the wretches sleepe,

Some rush in here, some run in there as fast:

In euery where or sword, or fyre, they tast:

The walls are torne, the towers whourld to the ground,

There is no mischiefe, but may there bee found.

67.

_Cassandra_ yet there sawe I how they haled

From _Pallas_ house, with spercled tresse vndone,

Her wrists fast bound, and with _Greekes_[1556] rout empaled:

And _Priam_ eke, in vayne how hee did ronne

To arms, whom _Pyrrhus_ with dispite hath donne

To cruell death, and bathde him in the bayne

Of his sonne’s bloud, before the altare slayne.

68.

But how can I descriue the dolefull sight,

That in the shield so liuely[1557] fayre did shine?

Sith in this world, I thinke was neuer wight

Could haue set forth the halfe, not halfe so fyne:

I can no more, but tell how there is seene

Fayre Ilium fall in burning red gledes downe,

And, from the soile, great _Troy_, _Neptunus’_ towne.

69.

Here from when scarce I could mine[1558] eyes withdrawe

That fylde with teares as doth the springing well,

We passed on so far forth till we sawe

Rude _Acheron_, a lothsome lake to tell,

That boyles and bubs vp swelth as blacke as hell,

Where griesly _Charon_, at theyr fixed tyde,

Still ferries ghostes vnto the farder side.

70.

The aged god no sooner _Sorrow_ spyed,

But, hasting straight vnto the bancke apace,

With hollowe call vnto the rout hee cryed,

To swarue apart, and gieue the goddesse place:

Strayt it was done, when to the shoare wee pace,

Where, hand in hand as wee than linked fast,

Within the boate[1559] wee are together plaste.

71.

And forth wee launch full fraughted to the brinke,

Whan, with th’vnwonted[1560] waight, the rusty keele

Began to cracke as if the same should sinke,

Wee hoyse vp maste and sayle, that in a while

Wee fet the shoare, where scarsely wee had while

For to ariue, but that wee heard anone

A three sound barke confounded all in one.

72.

Wee had not long forth past, but that wee sawe

Blacke _Cerberus_, the hydeous hound of hell,

With bristles reard, and with a three mouth’d jawe,

Foredinning th’ayre[1561] with his horrible yell:

Out of the deepe darke caue where hee did dwell,

The goddesse straight hee knewe, and, by and by,

Hee peast, and couched, while[1562] that wee past by.[1563]

73.

Thence come wee to the horrour and the hell,

The large great kingdoms, and the dreadfull raigne

Of _Pluto_ in his throne where hee did dwell,

The wide waste places, and the hugie playne:

The waylings, shrikes, and sondry sorts of payne,

The sighes, the sobs, the deepe and deadly groane,

Earth, ayre, and all, resounding playnt and moane.

74.[1564]

Heare pewled[1565] the babes, and here the maydes vnwed,

With folded hands theyr sory chaunce bewayld:

Here wept the guiltles slayne, and louers dead,

That slew them selues when nothing els auayld:

A thousand sorts of sorrows here, that waylde

With sighs, and teares, sobs, shrikes, and all yfeare,

That, oh,[1566] alas, it was a hell to heare.[1567]

75.[1568]

Wee staide vs strait, and with a rufull feare,

Beheld this heauy sight, while from myne eyes,

The vapored tears downe stilled here and there,

And _Sorrowe_ eke in far more wofull wise,

Tooke on with plaint, vp heauing to the skies

Her wretched hands, that, with her cry, the rout

Gan all in heapes to swarme vs round about.

76.

“Loe here,” quoth _Sorrow_, “princes of renoune,

That whilom sate on top of fortune’s wheele,

Now layde full low, like wretches whurled downe,[1569]

Euen with one frowne, that slayde but with a smyle,

And now beholde the thing that thou, erewhile,

Saw onely in thought, and, what thou now shalt heere,

Recompt the same to kesar, king, and peere.”

77.

Then first came _Henry_ duke of _Buckingham_,

His cloake of blacke all pilde, and quite forworne,[1570]

Wringing his hands, and fortune oft doth blame,

Which of a duke hath made him now her skorne:

With gastly lookes, as one in maner lorne,

Oft spred his armes, stretcht hands hee ioynes as fast,

With rufull cheare, and vapored eyes vpcast.

78.

His cloake hee rent, his manly brest hee beat,

His hayre all torne, about the place it lay,[1571]

My heart so molt to see his griefe so great,

As felingly me thought, it dropt away:

His eyes they whurld about withouten stay,

With stormy sighes the place did so complayne,

As if his heart at ech had burst in twayne.

79.

Thrise hee began to tell his dolefull tale,

And thrise the sighes did swallow vp his voyce,

At ech of which hee shriked so withall,

As though the heauens riued with the noyse:

Tyll at the last, recouering his voyce,

Supping the teares that all his brest beraynde,

On cruell fortune, weeping, thus hee playnde.

The Complaynt of _Henry_ Duke of Buckingham.

Who trusts too much to[1572] honour’s highest throne,

And warely[1573] watch not sly dame fortune’s snares:

Or who in court will beare the swinge[1574] alone,

And wisely weigh not how to wield the care,

Behold hee mee, and by my death beware:

Whome flattering fortune falsely so beguylde,

That, loe, she slewe, where erst full smooth she smilde.

And, _Sackuille_, sith in purpose now thou hast

The wofull fall of princes to descryue,

Whom fortune both vplift, and eke[1575] downe cast,

To shew thereby th’vnshurty[1576] in this life,

Marke well my fall, which I shall shew belyue,

And paynt it forth, that all estates may knowe:

Haue they the warning, and be mine the woe.

For noble bloud made mee both prince and peere,

Yea peereles too, had reason[1577] purchast place,

And God with giftes endowde mee largely heere:

But what auayles his giftes where fayles his grace?

My mother’s sire sprong of a kingly race,

And cald was _Edmund_ duke of _Somerset_,

Bereft of life ere time by nature set.

Whose faythfull heart to _Henry_ sixt so wrought,

That neuer hee him in[1578] weale, or woe, forsooke,

Till lastly hee at _Tewkesbury_ fielde was cought,

Where with an axe his violent death hee tooke:

Hee neuer could king _Edward’s_ party brooke,

Tyll by his death hee voucht that quarell good,

In which his sire and graundsire spilt theyr bloud.

And such was erst my father’s cruell chaunce,

Of _Stafforde_ earle, by name that _Humfrey_ hight,

Who euer prest did _Henrye’s_ part auaunce,

And neuer ceast, till at _S. Albane’s_ fight

Hee lost his life, as then[1579] did many a knight:

Where eke my graundsire, duke of _Buckingham_,

Was wounded sore, and hardly scapt vntane.

But what may boote to stay the sisters three?

When _Atropos_ perforce will cut the thred:

The dolefull day was come, when you might see

_Northampton_ fielde with armed men orespred,

Where fate would algates haue my graundsire dead:

So, rushing forth amids the fiercest fight,

Hee liu’d[1580] and dyde there in his maister’s right.

In place of whom, as it befell my lot,

Like on a stage, so stept I in straite way,

Enioying there, but woefully, God wot,

As hee that had a slender part to play:

To teach thereby, in earth no state may stay,

But as our partes abridge, or length our age,

So passe wee all, while others fill the stage.

For of my selfe the drery fate to playne,

I was sometime a prince withouten peere,

When _Edward_ fift began his rufull raigne,

Ay me, then I began that hatefull yeere,

To compasse that which I haue bought so deere:

I bare the swinge, I and that wretched wight

The duke of _Glocester_, that _Richard_ hight.

For when the fates had reft that royall prince

_Edward_ the fourth, cheife miroure of that name,

The duke and I, fast ioyned euer since

In faithfull loue, our secret drifts to frame,

What hee thought best, to mee so seemde the same,

My selfe not bent so much for to aspyre,

As to fulfill that greedy duke’s desyre.

10.

Whose restlesse mynd, sore thirsting after rule,

When that hee sawe his nephewes both to bene

Through tender years as yet vnfit to rule,

And rather ruled by their mother’s kin,

There sought hee first his mischiefe to begin,

To plucke from them theire mother’s frends assynde,

For well hee wist they would withstand[1581] his mynde.

11.

To follow which hee ran so headlong swyft,

With egre thirst of his desired draught,

To seeke their deaths that sought to dash his drift,

Of whome the chief the queene’s allies hee thought,

That bent therto with mounts of mischief fraught,

Hee knew their liues would bee so sore his let,

That in their deaths his onely help hee set.

12.

And I, most cursed caytife that I was,

Seeing the state vnstedfast how it stoode,

His chiefe complice to bring the same to passe,

Unhappy wretch consented to their blood:

Yea kings and peeres that swim in worldly good,

In seeking bloud the end aduert you playne,

And see if bloud ey aske not bloud agayne.

13.

Consider _Cyrus_ in your cruell thought,

A makelesse[1582] prince in riches, and in might,

And weigh in mynd the bloudy deeds hee wrought,

In sheading which hee set his whole delight:

But see the guerdon lotted to this wight,

Hee, whose huge powre no man might ouerthrowe,

_Tomyris_ queene with greate dispite hath slowe.

14.

His head dismembred from his mangled corps,

Her selfe shee cast into a vessell fraught

With clottered bloud of them that felt her force,

And with these words a iust reward shee taught:

“Drinke now thy fill of thy desired draught:”

Loe, marke the fine that did this prince befall:

Marke not this one, but marke the end of all.

15.

Behold _Cambises_, and his fatall day,

Where murder’s mischiefe, mirour like, is left,

While hee his brother _Mergus_ cast to slay,

A dreadfull thing, his wits were him bereft:

A sword hee caught, wherewith hee perced eft

His body gored, which hee of life benooms:

So iust is God in all his dreadfull dooms.

16.

O, bloudy _Brutus_, rightly didst thou rue,

And thou, O[1583] _Cassius_, iustly came thy fall,

That with the sword, wherewith thou _Cæsar_ slue,

Murdredst thyselfe, and reft thy life withall:

A miroir let him bee vnto you all

That murdrers bee, of murder to your meede:

For murder cryes[1584] out vengeaunce on your seede.

17.

Loe, _Bessus_, hee that armde with murdrer’s[1585] knife,

And traytrous[1586] heart agaynst his royall king,

With bloudy hands bereft his maister’s life,

Aduert the fine his foule offence did bring:

And lothing murder as most lothly thing,

Behold in him the iust deserued fall

That euer hath, and shall betyde them all.

18.

What booted him his false vsurped raygne?

Wherto by murder hee did so ascend,

When like a wretch, led in an yron chayne,

He was presented, by his chiefest frend,

Unto the foes of him whom hee had slayne:

That euen they should venge[1587] so foule a gilt,

That rather sought to haue his bloud yspilt.

19.

Take heede ye princes and ye prelates all

Of this outrage, which though it sleepe a while

And not disclosde, as it doth seeld befall,

Yet God, that suffreth[1588] silence to beguile

Such gilts, wherewith both earth and ayre ye file,

At last discryes them to your fowle deface,

You see th’examples[1589] set before your face.

20.

And deeply graue within your stony harts,

The drery dewle that mighty _Macedo_,

With teares vnfoulded, wrapt in deadly smarts,

When hee the death of _Clitus_ sorrowed so,

Whom erst hee murdred[1590] with the deadly blowe

Raught in his rage vpon his frend so deare,

For which beholde, loe, how his panges appeare.

21.

The launsed speare hee wrythes out of the wound,

From which the purple bloud spins in[1591] his face:

His heynous gilt when hee returned found,

Hee throwes himselfe vpon the corps, alas,

And in his armes how oft doth hee imbrace

His murdred frend? and kissing him, in vayne

Forth flowe the fluds of salt repentant rayne.

22.

His frends amazde at such a murder done,

In fearefull flocks begin to shrinke away,

And hee therat, with heapes of grief fordone,

Hateth him selfe, wishing his later day:

Now hee likewise perceiued in lyke stay,

As is the wylde beast in the desert bred,

Both dreading others and him selfe a dred.

23.

Hee calles for death, and loathing lenger[1592] lyfe,

Bent to his bane, refuseth kindely foode:

And plungd in depth of death and dolour’s strife,

Had queld him selfe, had not his frends withstoode:

Loe, hee that thus hath shed the guiltles bloud,

Though hee were king and kesar ouer all,

Yet chose hee death to guerdon death withall.

24.

This prince whose peere was neuer vnder sunne,

Whose glistening fame the earth did ouerglyde,

Which with his power welny the world had wonne,

His bloudy handes himselfe could not abyde,

But fully[1593] bent with famine to haue dyed,

The worthy prince deemed in his regarde,

That death for death could bee but iust rewarde.

25.

Yet wee, that were so drowned in the depth

Of deepe desire, to drinke the guiltlesse bloud,

Like to the wolfe, with greedy lookes that lepth

Into the snare, to feede on deadly foode,

So wee delighted in the state wee stoode,

Blinded so far in all our blinded trayne,

That blinde wee sawe not our destruction playne.

26.

Wee spared none whose life could ought forlet

Our wicked purpose to his passe to come:

Fowre worthy knights wee headed at _Pomfret_

Guiltlesse, God wote, withouten law or dome:

My heart euen bleedes to tell you all and some,

And how lord _Hastings_, when hee feared least,

Dispiteously was murdred and opprest.

27.

These rockes vpraught, that threatned most our wrecke,

Wee seemde to saile much surer in the streame:

And fortune faring as shee were at becke

Layde in our lap the rule of all the realme:

The nephues strait deposde were by the eame:

And wee aduaunst to that wee bought full deare,

Hee crowned king, and I his chiefest peare.

28.

Thus hauing wonne our long desired pray,

To make him king that hee might make mee chiefe,

Downe throwe wee straith his seely nephues tway,

From princes pompe, to woefull prisoners life:

In hope that nowe stint was all furder strife:

Sith hee was king, and I chiefe stroke did beare,

Who ioyed but wee, yet who more cause to feare?

29.

The guiltles bloud which wee vniustly shed,

The royall babes deuested from theyr throne,

And wee like traytours raigning in theyr sted,

These heauy burdens passed[1594] vs vpon,

Tormenting vs so by our selues alone,

Much like the felon that pursude by night,

Starts at ech bush, as his foe were in sight.

30.

Now doubting state, now dreading losse of life,

In feare of wracke at euery blast of winde,

Now start in dreames through dread of murdrer’s[1595] knife,

As though euen then reuengement were assynde:

With restles thought so is the guilty minde

Turmoyld, and neuer feeleth ease or stay,

But liues in feare of that which followes aye.

31.

Well gaue that judge his dome vpon the death

Of _Titus Clelius_[1596] that in bed was slayne:

Whan euery wight the cruell murder layeth

To his two sonnes that in his chamber layen,

The judge, that by the proofe perceiueth playne,

That they were found fast sleeping in theyr bed,

Hath deemde them guiltles of this bloud yshed.

32.

Hee thought it could not bee, that they which brake

The lawes of God and man in such outrage,

Could so forthwith themselues to sleepe betake:

He rather thought the horrour, and the rage

Of such an heynous guilt, could neuer swage,

Nor neuer suffer them to sleepe, or rest,

Or dreadles breath one breth out of theyr brest.

33.

So gnawes the griefe of conscience euermore,

And in the heart it is so deepe ygraue,[1597]

That they may neyther sleepe nor rest therefore,

Ne thinke one thought but on the dread they haue:

Still to the death foretossed with the waue

Of restles woe, in terrour and despeyre,

They leade a life continually in feare.

34.

Like to the dere that stricken with the dart,

Withdrawes himselfe into some secret place,

And feeling greene the wound about his hart,

Startles[1598] with pangs tyll hee fall on the grasse,

And, in great feare, lies gasping there a space,

Forth braying sighes, as though ech pang had brought

The present death, which hee doth dread so oft:

35.

So wee, deepe wounded with the bloudy thought,

And gnawing worme that greu’d[1599] our conscience so,

Neuer tooke ease, but as our heart out brought[1600]

The strayned[1601] sighes in witnes of our woe,

Such restles cares our fault did well beknowe:

Wherewith, of our deserued fall, the feares

In euery place rang death within our eares.

36.

And as ill grayne is neuer well ykept,

So fared it by vs within a while:

That which so long with such vnrest wee reapt,

In dread and daunger by all wit and wile,

Loe, see the fine, when once it felt the whele

Of slipper fortune, stay it mought no stowne,

The wheele whurles vp, but strayt it whurleth downe.

37.

For hauing rule and riches in our hand,

Who durst gaynesay the thing that wee averd?

Will was wisedome, our lust for law did stand,

In sort so straunge, that who was not afeard,

When hee the sounde but of king _Richard_ heard?

So hatefull waxt the hearing of his name,

That you may deeme the residue of[1602] the same.

38.

But what auaylde the terrour and the feare,

Wherwith he kept his lieges vnder awe?

It rather wan him hatred euery where,

And fayned faces forc’d by feare of lawe:

That but, while fortune doth with fauour blawe,

Flatter through feare: for in theyr heart lurkes aye

A secret hate that hopeth for a daye.

39.

Recordeth _Dionisius_ the king

That with his rigour so his realme opprest,

As that hee thought by cruell feare to bring

His subiects vnder, as him liked best:

But, loe, the dread wherewith him selfe was strest,

And you shall see the fine of forced feare,

Most miroir like, in this prowd prince appeare.

40.

All were his head with crowne of gold ysprad,

And in his hand the royall scepter set:

And hee with princely purple richly clad,

Yet was his heart with wretched cares orefret:

And inwardly with deadly feare beset,

Of those whom hee by rigour kept in awe,

And sore opprest with might of tyraunt’s lawe.

41.

Agaynst whose feare no heapes of gold and glie,

No strength of gard, nor all his hyred powre,

Ne prowde high towres, that preaced to the skie,

His cruell heart of safty could assure:

But dreading them whom hee should deeme most sure,

Him selfe his beard with burning brand would ceare,

Of death deseru’d so vexed him the feare.

42.

This might suffice to represent the fine

Of tyraunt’s force, theyr feares, and theyr vnrest:

But heare this one, although my heart repine

To let the sounde once sinke within my brest:

Of fell _Phereus_, that, aboue the rest,

Such lothsome cruelty on his people wrought,

As, oh, alas, I tremble with the thought.

43.

Some hee encased in the coates of beares,

Among wilde beastes deuoured so to bee:

And some, for pray vnto the hunter’s speares,

Like sauage beasts withouten ruth to dye:

Sometime, to encrease[1603] his horrible cruelty,

The quicke with face to face engraued hee,

Ech other’s death that ech mought liuing see.

44.

Loe, what more cruell horrour mought bee founde

To purchase feare, if feare could stay his raigne?

It booted not, it rather strake the wounde

Of feare in him, to feare the like agayne:

And so he did full oft, and not in vayne,

As in his life his cares could witnesse well,

But most of all his wretched end doth tell.

45.

His owne deare wife, whom as his life hee loued,

Hee durst not trust, nor proche vnto her bed,

But causing first his slaue with naked sworde

To goe before, himselfe with trembling dread,

Strayt foloweth fast, and whurling in his head

His rolling eyne, he searched[1604] heare and there

The deepe daunger that hee so sore did feare.

46.

For not in vayne it ran still in his brest,

Some wretched hap should hale him to his end,

And therefore alway by his pillow prest

Had hee a sworde, and with that sworde he wende,

In vayne, God wot, all perils to defende:

For, loe, his wife, foreyrking[1605] of his raigne,

Sleping in bed this cruell wretch hath slaine.

47.

What should I more now seeke to say in this,

Or one iote farder linger forth my tale?

With cruell _Nero_, or with _Phalaris_,

_Caligula_, _Domitian_, and all

The cruell rout? or of theyr wretched fall?

I can no more, but in my name aduert

All earthly powres beware of tyraunt’s hart.

48.

And as our state endured but a throwe,

So, best in vs, the stay of such a state

May best appeare to hang on ouerthrowe,

And better teach tyraunts deserued hate,

Then any tyraunt’s death tofore or late:

So cruell seemde this _Richard_ third to mee,

That, loe, my selfe now loathde[1606] his cruelty.

49.

For when, alas, I saw the tyraunt king

Content not only from his nephues twayne

To riue world’s blisse, but also all world’s being,

Sauns earthly gylt ycausing both be slayne,

My heart agrisde[1607] that such a wretch should raigne,

Whose bloudy brest so saluagde[1608] out of kinde,

That _Phalaris_ had nere[1609] so bloudy[1610] a minde.

50.

Ne[1611] could I brooke him once within my brest,

But with the thought my teeth would gnash withall:

For though I erst were his by sworne behest,

Yet when I saw mischiefe on mischiefe fall,

So deepe in bloud, to murder prince and all,

Ay then, thought I, alas, and welaway,[1612]

And to my selfe thus mourning would I say:

51.

If neyther loue, kinred, ne[1613] knot of bloud,

His owne allegaunce to his prince of due,

Nor yet the state of trust, wherein hee stoode,

The world’s defame, nor nought could forme[1614] him true,

Those gyltles babes, could they not make him rue?

Nor could theyr youth, nor innocence withall

Moue him from reauing them, theyr life, and all?

52.

Alas, it could not moue him any iote,

Ne[1615] make him once to rue, or wet his eye,

Stird him no more then that that stirreth not:

But as the rocke, or stone, that will not plye,

So was his heart made hard with[1616] cruelty,

To murder them: alas, I weepe in thought,

To thinke on that which this fell wretch hath wrought.

53.

That now, when hee had done the thing hee sought,

And as he would, complisht and compast all,

And saw and knew the treason hee had wrought

To God and man, to slay his prince and all,

Then seemde hee first to doubt and drede vs all,

And mee in chiefe, whose death all meanes hee might,

He sought to worke by malice and by might.

54.

Such heapes of harms vpharbard in his brest,

With enuious hart my honour to deface,

And knowing hee, that I, which wotted best

His wretched dryfts, and all his wretched case,[1617]

If euer sprang within mee sparke of grace,

Must nedes abhorre him and his hatefull race:

Now more and more can cast mee out of grace.

55.

Which sodayne chaunge, when I, by secret chaunce

Had well perceiude, by proofe of enuious frowne,

And saw the lot that did mee to aduaunce

Him to a king, that sought to cast mee downe,

To late it was to linger any stowne,

Sith present choise lay cast before myne eye:

To worke his death, or, I my selfe to dye.

56.

And as the knight in field among his foes,

Beset with swords, must slay or there bee slayne:

So I, alas, lapt in a thousand woes,

Beholding death on euery syde so playne,

I rather chose by some sly secret trayne

To worke his death, and I to liue therby,

Then hee to liue, and I of force to dye.

57.

Which heauy choyse so hastened mee to chose,

That I in part agrieude at his disdayne,

In part to wreake the dolefull death of those

Two tender babes, his sely[1618] nephewes twayne,

By him, alas, commaunded to be slayne,

With paynted chere humbly before his face,

Strayght tooke my leaue, and roade to _Brecknocke_ place.

58.

And there as close and couert as I might,

My purposde practise to his passe to bring,

In secret drifts I lingrede day and night,

All how I might depose this cruell king,

That seemde to all so much desyrde a thing,

As therto trusting I emprisde the same:

But to much trusting brought mee to my bane.

59.

For while I now had fortune at my becke,

Mistrusting I no earthly thing at all,

Unwares, alas, least looking for a checke,

Shee mated mee in tourning of a ball:

When least I fearde, then nerest was my fall,

And when whole hoasts were prest to stroy my foen,

Shee chaungde her cheare, and left mee post alone.

60.

I had vpraysde a mighty band of men,

And marched forth in order of array,

Leading my power amid the forest _Dene_,

Agaynst the[1619] tyrant banner to display:

But, loe, my souldiers cowardly[1620] shranke away:

For such is fortune when shee list to frowne,

Who seemes most sure, him soonest whurls shee downe.

61.

O, let no prince, put trust in commontie,

Nor hope in fayth of giddy people’s mynde,

But let all noble men take heede by mee,

That by the proofe to well the payne do fynde:

Loe, where is truth or trust? or what could bynde

The vayne people, but they will swerue and swaye,

As chaunce brings chaunge, to driue and draw that way.

62.

_Rome_, thou that once aduaunced vp so hye,

Thy stay, patron, and flowre of excellence,

Hast now throwne him to depth of miserie,

Exiled him that was thy whole defence,

Ne comptest[1621] it not an horrible offence,

To reuen him of honour and of fame,

That wan it thee when thou hadst lost the same.

63.

Behold _Camillus_, hee that first reuiued

The state of _Rome_, that dying hee did fynde,

Of his owne state is now, alas, depriued,

Banisht by them whom hee did thus det-bynde:

That cruell folke, vnthankfull and vnkinde,

Declared well their false vnconstancie,[1622]

And fortune eke her mutabilitie.

64.

And thou _Scipio_, a miroir mayst thou bee

To all nobles, that they learne not to late,

How they once trust th’vnstable[1623] commontie:

Thou that recuredst[1624] the torne dismembred state,

Euen when the conquerour was at the gate,

Art now exilde, as though thou not deserued

To rest in her, whom thou hadst so preserued.

65.

Ingratfull _Rome_, hast shewde thy crueltie

On him, by whom thou lyuest yet in fame,

But not thy deede, nor his desert shall die,

But his owne words shall witnes ay the same:

For, loe, his graue doth thee most iustly blame,

And with disdayne in marble sayes to thee:

Vnkind countrey, my bones shalt thou not see.

66.

What more vnworthy then this his exile?

More iust then this the wofull playnt hee wrote?

Or who could shew a playner proofe the while,

Of most false fayth, then they that thus forgot

His great deserts? that so deserued not:

His cindres yet, loe, doth hee them deny

That him denyde amongst them for to dye.

67.

_Milciades_, O happy hadst thou bee,[1625]

And well rewarded of thy countrey men,

If in the fielde when thou hadst forst to flye,

By thy prowes, three hundred thousand men,

Content they had beene to exile thee then:

And not to cast thee in depth of prison, so

Laden with gyues, to end thy life in woe.

68.

Alas, how hard and steely hearts had they,

That, not contented there to haue thee dye,

With fettred gyues in prison where thou lay,

Increast so farre in hatefull crueltye,

That buriall to thy corps, they eke denye:

Ne wil they graunt the same till thy sonne haue

Put on thy gyues, to purchase thee a graue.

69.

Loe, _Hanniball_, as long as fixed fate,

And brittle fortune had ordayned so,

Who, euermore, aduaunst his country state

Then thou, that liu’dst[1626] for her and for no moe?

But when the stormy waues began to growe,

Without respect of thy deserts erewhile,

Art by thy[1627] countrey throwne into exile.

70.

Unfrendly fortune, shall I thee now blame?

Or shall I fault the fates that so ordayne?

Or art thou Ioue the causer of the same?

Or cruelty her selfe, doth shee constrayne?

Or on whom els, alas, shall I complayne?

O trustlesse world, I can accusen none,

But fickle fayth of commontie alone.

71.

The Polipus nor the Chameleon straunge,

That tourne themselues to euery hewe they see,

Are not so full of vayne and fickle chaunge,

As is this false vnstedfast commontye:

Loe, I, alas, with myne aduersitye

Haue tryde it true, for they are fled and gone,

And of an hoast there is not left mee one.

72.

That I, alas, in this calamitie

Alone was left, and to my selfe mought[1628] playne

This treason, and this wretched cowardye,

And eake with tears beweepen and complayne

My hatefull hap, still loking to bee slayne:

Wandring in woe, and to the gods[1629] on hye

Cleaping for vengeaunce of this treacherye.

73.

And as the turtle that hath lost her make,[1630]

Whom griping sorrowe doth so sore attaint,

With dolefull voice and sound that[1631] shee doth make,

Mourning her losse, fills all the groue with plaint:

So I, alas, forsaken, and forfaynt,

With restlesse foote the wood rome vp and downe,

Which of my dole all shiuering doth resowne.

74.

And being thus, alone, and all forsake,

Amid the thicke, forwandred in despayre,

As one dismayde, ne wist what way to take,

Untill at last gan to my mynd repayre,

A man of myne, calde _Humfrey Banastaire_:

Wherwith mee feeling much recomforted,

In hope of succour, to his house I fled.

75.

Who being one whom erst I had vp brought

Euen from his youth, and lou’d[1632] and liked best,

To gentry state auaunciug him from nought,

And had in secret trust, aboue the rest

Of speciall trust, now, being thus distrest,

Full secretly to him I mee conueyde,

Not doubting there but I should fynd some ayde.

76.

But out, alas, on cruell trecherie,

When that this caytife once an inkling hard,

How that king _Richard_ had proclaimde, that hee

Which mee descryde should haue for his rewarde

A thousand pounds, and farther bee prefarde,

His truth so turnde to treason, all distaynde,

That fayth quite fled, and I by trust was traynde.

77.

For by this wretch I being straite betrayed

To one _Ihon Mitton_, shiriffe of _Shropshire_ then,

All sodaynly was taken, and conuayed

To _Salisburie_, with rout of harnest men,

Unto king _Richard_ there, encamped then

Fast by the cittie with a mighty host:

Withouten dome where head and life I lost.

78.

And with these wordes, as if the axe euen there

Dismembred had his head and corps aparte,

Dead fell hee downe: and wee in woefull feare

Stoode mazed when hee would to lyfe reuert:

But deadly griefs still grew about his hart,

That still hee lay, sometime reuiude with payne,

And with a sigh becomming dead agayne.

79.

Midnight was come, when euery[1633] vitall thing

With sweete sound sleepe, their weary lyms did rest,

The beasts were still, the little byrds that sing,

Now sweetely slept, besides their mother’s brest,

The olde and all were shrowded in their nest:

The waters calme, the cruell seas did cease,

The woods, the fieldes, and all thinges held their peace.

80.

The golden stars were whyrld amyd their race,

And on the earth did laugh with twinkling light,

When each thing nestled in his resting place,

Forgat daye’s payne with pleasure of the night:

The hare had not the greedy hounds in sight,

The fearefull dere of death stoode not in doubt,

The partridge drept not of the falcon’s foote.

81.

The ougly beare now minded not the stake,

Nor how the cruell mastiues doe him teare,

The stag lay still vnroused from the brake,

The fomy boare fearde not the hunter’s speare:

All thing was still in desert, bush, and breare:

With quiet heart now from their trauayles ceast,

Soundly they slept in midst of all their rest.

82.

When _Buckingham_, amid his playnt opprest,

With surging sorrowes and with pinching paynes

In sort thus sowned,[1634] and with a sigh, hee ceast

To tellen forth the trechery and the traynes

Of _Banastaire_: which him so sore distraynes,

That from a sigh hee falls into a sounde,

And from a sound ly’th[1635] raging on the ground.

83.

So twiching were the pangs that hee assayed,

And hee so sore with ruthfull[1636] rage distraught,

To thinke vppon the wretch that him betrayed,

Whom erst hee made a gentleman of naught,

That more and more agreued with this[1637] thought,

Hee stormes out sighes, and with redoubled sore,

Stroke with the furies, rageth more and more.

84.

Who so hath seene the bull chased with darts,

And with deepe wounds foregalde and gored so,

Tyll hee, oppressed with the deadly smarts,

Fall in a rage, and run vpon his foe,

Let him, I say, behold the raging woe

Of _Buckingham_, that in these gripes of griefe,

Rageth gaynst him that hath betrayde his lyfe.

85.

With bloud red iyen hee stareth here and there,

Frothing at mouth, with face as pale as cloute:

When, loe, my lyms were trembling all for feare,

And I amazde stoode still in dread and doubt,

While I mought see him throwe his arms about:

And gaynst the ground him selfe plunge with such force,

As if the life forthwith should leaue the corps.

86.

With smoke of sighs sometyme I might beholde,

The place all dimde, like to the morning mist:

And strait agayne the teares how they downrold

Alongst his cheekes, as if the riuers hyst:

Whose flowing streames ne where no soner whist,

But to the stars such dreadfull shouts hee sent,

As if the throne of mighty Ioue should rent.

87.

And I the while with sprits[1638] welny bereft,

Beheld the plight and pangs that did him strayne,

And how the bloud his deadly colour left,

And straight retournde with flaming red againe:

When sodaynly amid his raging payne

Hee gaue a sigh, and with that sigh hee sayed:

“Oh _Banastaire_:” and strait agayne hee stayed.

88.

Dead lay his corps, as dead as any stone,

Till swelling sighes storming within his brest,

Upraysde his head, that downeward fell anone,

With lookes vpcast, and sighes that neuer ceast:

Forth stremde the teares records of his vnrest,

When hee with shrikes thus groveling on the ground,

Ybrayed these words with shrill and dolefull sounde.

89.

“Heauen and earth, and ye eternall lamps

That, in the heauens wrapt, wyll vs to rest,

Thou bright _Phœbe_, that clearest the night’s damps,

Witnes the playnts that in these pangs opprest,

I, wofull wretch, vnlade out of my brest,

And let mee yeelde my last words, ere I parte,

You, you, I call to record of my smarte.

90.

And thou, _Alecto_, feede mee with thy foode,

Let fall thy serpents from thy snaky heare,

For such releife well fits mee in this moode,

To feede my playnt with horrour and with feare,

While rage afresh thy venomde worme areare:

And thou _Sibilla_, when thou seest mee faynte,

Addresse thy selfe the guide of my complaynt.

91.

And thou, O Ioue, that with the[1639] deepe fordoome

Dost rule the earth, and raygne aboue the skies,

That wreakest wrongs, and geu’st[1640] the dreadfull doome

Agaynst the wretch that doth thy name despise,[1641]

Receiue these words, and wreake them in such wise,

As heauen and earth may wytnesse and beholde,

Thy heapes of wrath vpon this wretch vnfolde.

92.

Thou _Banastaire_, gainst thee I clepe and call

Unto the gods, that they iust vengeaunce take

On thee, thy bloud, thy stayned stocke and all:

O Ioue, to thee aboue the rest I make

My humble playnt, guide mee, that what I speake,

May be thy will vpon this wretch to fall,

On thee, _Banastaire_, wretch of wretches all.

93.

O would to God, the[1642] cruell dismall day,

That gaue mee light fyrst to behold thy face,

With foule eclipse had reft my sight away:

Th’vnhappy[1643] hower, the tyme, and eke the place,[1644]

The sunne and moone, the stars, and all that was

In theire aspects helping in ought to thee,

The earth and ayre, and all, accursed bee.

94.

And thou caytyfe, that like a monster swarued

From kinde and kindnes, hast thy maister lorne,

Whom neyther trueth, nor trust wherein thou serued,

Ne his deserts could moue, nor thy fayth sworne,

How shall I curse, but wish that thou vnborne

Had beene, or that the earth had rent in tway,

And swallowed thee in cradle as thou laye.

95.

To this did I, euen from thy tender youth,

Witsaue[1645] to bring thee vp? did I herefore

Beleue the oth of thy vndoubted troth?

Aduaunce thee vp, and trust thee euermore?

By trusting thee that I should dye therefore?

O wretch, and worse then wretch, what shall I say?

But clepe and curse gaynst thee and thine for aye.

96.

Hated be thou, disdaynde of euery wight,

And poynted at where euer that thou goe:

A trayterous wretch, vnworthy of the light

Bee thou esteemde; and to encrease thy woe,

The sounde be hatefull of thy name also:

And in this sort with shame and sharp reproche,

Lead thou thy life, tyll greater griefe approche.

97.

Dole and despayre, let those be thy delight,

Wrapped in woes that cannot bee vnfolde,

To wayle the day, and weepe the weary night,

With rayny eyne and sighes cannot be tolde,

And let no wight thy woe seeke to withholde:

But count thee worthy (wretch) of sorrowe’s store,

That suffering much, oughtst still to suffer more.

98.

Deserue thou death, yea bee thou deemde to dye

A shamefull death, to end thy shamefull life:

A sight longed for, ioyfull to euery eye,

When thou shalt bee arraigned as a theefe,

Standing at bar, and pleading for thy life,

With trembling tongue in dread and dolour’s rage,

Lade with white lockes, and fourscore yeares of age.

99.

Yet shall not death deliuer thee so soone

Out of thy woes, so happy shalt not[1646] bee:

But to th’eternall[1647] Ioue this is my boone,

That thou mayst[1648] liue thine eldest sonne to see

Reft of his wits, and in a foule bore’s stye

To end his dayes, in rage and death distrest,

A worthy tombe where one of thine should rest.

100.

Yet[1649] after this, yet pray I more, thou may

Thy second sonne see drowned in a dyke,

And in such sort to close his later day,

As heard or seene erst hath not been the like:

Ystrangled in a puddle, not halfe[1650] so deepe

As halfe a foote, that such hard losse of life,

So cruelly chaunst, may bee the[1651] greater griefe.

101.

And not yet shall thy hugie[1652] sorrowes ceasse,

Ioue shall not so witholde his wrath, from thee,

But that thy plagues may more and more encrease,

Thou shalt still liue, that thou thy selfe maist see

Thy deare daughter stroken with leprosye:[1653]

That shee, that erst was all thy whole delight,

Thou now mayst loth to haue her come in sight.

102.

And after that, let shame and sorrowes griefe

Feede forth thy yeares continually in woe,

That thou maist lieue in death, and dye in life,

And in this sort forwaylde and weried so,

At last thy ghost to part thy body fro:

This pray I, Ioue, and with this later breath,

Vengaunce I aske vpon my cruell death.”

103.

This sayde, he flong his retchlesse armes abroade,

And, groueling, flat vpon the grounde he laye,

Which with his teeth hee all to gnasht and gnawde,

Deepe groanes hee fet, as hee that would awaye:

But, loe, in vayne hee did the death assay:

Although I thinke was neuer man that knewe

Such deadly paynes, where death did not ensue.

104.

So stroue hee thus a while as with the death,

Now pale as leade, and cold as any stone,

Now still as calme, now storming forth a breath

Of smoky sighes, as breath and all were gone:

But euery thing hath end: so hee anone

Came to himselfe, when, with a sigh outbrayed,

With woefull chere, these woefull words hee sayed:

105.

“Ah, where am I, what thing, or whence is this?

Who reft my wits? or how doe I thus lye?

My lyms do quake, my thought agasted is,

Why sigh I so? or whereunto do I

Thus grovle[1654] on the grounde?” and by and by

Upraysde hee stoode, and with a sigh hath stayde,

When to himselfe retourned thus hee sayde:

106.

“Suffiseth now this playnt and this regrete,

Whereof my heart his bottom hath vnfraught:

And of my death let peeres and princes wete

The world’s vntrust, that they thereby be taught:

And in her wealth, sith that such chaunge is wrought,

Hope not too much, but in the mids of all

Thinke on my death, and what may them befall.

107.

So long as fortune would permit the same,

I liu’d[1655] in rule and ryches with the best:

And past my time in honour and in fame,

That of mishap no feare was in my brest:

But false fortune, whom[1656] I suspected least,

Did tourne the wheele, and with a dolefull fall

Hath mee bereft of honour, life, and all.

108.

Loe, what avayles in riches, flouds that flowes?

Though she so smylde, as all the world were his,

Euen kings and kesars, byden[1657] fortune’s throwes,

And simple sort, must beare it as it is:

Take heede by mee that blithde in balefull blisse,

My rule, my riches, royall bloud and all,

When fortune frounde the feller made my fall.

109.

For hard mishaps, that happens vnto such

Whose wretched state erst neuer fell no chaunge,

Agreeue them not in any part so much

As theyr distresse: to whom it is so straunge

That all theyr liues, nay passed pleasures raunge,

Theyr sodayne woe, that aye wielde welth at will,

Algates theyr hearts more pearcingly must thrill.

110.

For of my byrth, my bloud was of the best,

First borne an earle, then duke by due discent,

To swinge the sway in court among the rest,

Dame fortune mee her rule most largely lent,

And, kinde with courage, so my corps had blent,

That, loe, on whom but mee did shee most smyle?

And whom but mee, loe, did shee most begyle?

111.

Now hast thou heard the whole of my vnhap,[1658]

My chaunce, my chaunge, the cause of all my care:

In welth and woe, how fortune did mee wrap,

With world at will, to win mee to her snare:

Bid kings, bid kesars, bid[1659] all states beware,

And tell them this from me that tryde it true:

Who reckles rules, right soone may hap to rue.”

T. S.[1660]

[“How like you this my maisters?” quoth[1661] I. “Very well,”

sayd one: “the tragedy excelleth: the inuention also of the

induction, and the descriptions are notable. But wheras hee

fayneth to talke with the princes in hell, that I am sure will

bee mislyked, because it is most certayne, that some of theyr

soules be in heauen. And although hee herein doe follow allowed

poets, in their description of hell, yet it sauoureth so much

of purgatory, which the papistes haue digged thereout, that the

ignorant may thereby bee deceiued.” “Not a whit I warrant you,”

sayd I,[1662] “for hee meaneth not by his hell the place eyther

of damned soules, or of such as lye for their fees, but rather

the graue, wherein the dead bodyes of all sorts of people doe

rest till time of the resurrection. And in this sence is hell

taken often in the scriptures, and in the writings of learned

christians. And so, as hee himselfe hath told mee, hee meaneth,

and so would haue it taken.” “Tush,” quoth[1663] another, “what

stand we here vpon? it is a poesy, and no diuinity: and it is

lawfull for poets to faine what they list, so it bee appertinent

to the matter: and therefore let it passe euen in such sort

as you haue read it.” “With a good will,” quoth[1664] I. “But

whereas you say a poet may faine what he list: in deede me

thinke[1665] it should bee so, and ought to be well taken of the

hearers: but it hath not at all times beene so allowed.” “Yee say

troth,” quoth[1666] the reader: “for here followeth in the story,

that after the death of this duke, one called _Collingbourne_ was

cruelly put to death for making of a rime.” “I haue his tragedy

here,” sayd[1667] I. For the better perceiuing whereof, you must

imagine that you see him a maruailous well fauoured man, holding

in his hand his owne heart, newely ripped out of his breast,

and smoaking forth the liuely spirite: and with his hand,[1668]

beckening to and fro, as it were to warne vs to auoide: and with

his faint tongue and voice, saying as couragiously as bee may,

these words that followe.]

How _Collingbourne_ was cruelly executed

for making a foolish ryme.

Beware, take heede, take heede, beware, beware[1669]

You poets, you, that purpose to rehearce

By any art what tyraunt’s doings are:

_Erynnis_ rage is growne so fell and fearce,

That vicious acts may not be toucht in verse:

The muse’s[1670] freedome, graunted them of elde,

Is barde, slye reasons treasons hye are helde.

Be rough in ryme, and then they say you rayle,

As _Iuuenal_ was, but that[1671] makes[1672] no matter:

With _Ieremy_ you shall bee had to iayle,

Or forc’d with _Martial_, _Cæsar’s_ faultes to flatter:

Clarkes must bee taught to claw, and not to clatter:

Free _Helicon_ and franke _Parnassus’_ hylls,

Are helly haunts, and ranke pernicious ylls.

Touch couertly in terms, and then you taunt,

Though praysed poets alway did the like,

Controll vs not, els traytour vile auaunt,

What passe wee what the learned doe mislike?

Our sinnes wee see, wherein to swarme wee seeke:

Wee passe not what the people say or thinke:

Their shittle hate makes[1673] none but cowards shrinke.

Wee knowe, say they, the course of fortune’s wheele,

How constantly it whirleth still about,

Arrearing now, while elder headlong reele,

How all the riders alway hang in doubt:

But what for that? we count him but a loute

That sticks to mount, and basely like a beast

Liues temperatly, for feare of Blockam feast.

In deede wee would of all be deemed gods

What euer[1674] wee do: and therefore partly hate

Rude preachers, that dare threaten [vs] plagues and rods,

And blase the blots whereby wee stayne our state:

But nought wee passe what any such do prate:

Of course and office they must say theyr pleasure,

And we of course must heare and mend at leasure.

But when these pelting poets in theyr rymes

Shall taunt, or iest, or paynt our wicked workes,

And cause the people know and curse our crymes,

This ougly fault no tyraunt liues but vrkes:

Wherefore wee loth such taunters[1675] worse then Turkes,

Whose meaning is to[1676] make vs know our misse,

And so to mend:[1677] but they but doate in this.

Wee know our faults as well as any other,

Wee also doubt the daungers from them due:

Yet still wee trust so right to rule[1678] the rother,

That scape we shall the sourges that ensue:

We thinke we know more[1679] shifts than other knew:

In vayne therefore for vs are counsailes writ:

Wee know our faults, and will not mend a whit.

These are the feats of the vnhappy sort,[1680]

That preace for honours, wealth, and pleasure vayne:

Ceasse therefore, _Baldwine_, ceasse I thee exhort,

Withdrawe thy pen, for nothing shalt thou gayne

Saue hate, with losse of paper, ynke, and payne:

Fewe hate theyr faults, all hate of them to heare,

And faultiest, from fault would seeme most cleare.[1681]

Thy intent[1682] I know is honest,[1683] playne, and good,

To warne the wise, to fray the fond fro[1684] ill,

But wicked worldlings are so witles wood,

That to the worst they althinges construe still:

With rigour oft they recompence good will:

They racke the wordes till time theyr sinowes burst,

In dolefull[1685] sences strayning still the worst.

10.

A paynfull proofe taught mee the truth of this,

Through tyraunt’s rage, and fortune’s cruell tourne:

They murdred mee, for meetring things amisse:

For wotst thou what? I am that _Collingbourne_

Which made the ryme, whereof I may well[1686] mourne:[1687]

“The cat, the rat, and _Louell_ our dog,

Doe rule all _England_, vnder a hog.”

11.

Whereof the meaning was so playne and true,

That euery foole perceiued it at furst:

Most liked it, for most that most things knewe,

In hugger mugger, muttred what they durst:

The tyraunt prince of[1688] most was held accurst,

Both for his owne, and for his counsayl’s faults,[1689]

Of whom were[1690] three, the naughtyest of all naughts.

12.

_Catesby_ was one, whom[1691] I called[1692] a cat,

A crafty lawyer, catching all hee could:

The second _Ratcliffe_, whom I namde a rat,

A cruell beast to gnawe on whom hee should:

Lord _Louell_ barkt and bit whom _Richard_ would,

Whom I therefore did rightly tearme our dog,

Wherewith to ryme I calde the king a hog.

13.

Tyll he the crowne had caught, hee[1693] gaue the bore,

In which estate would God hee had deceased,

Than had the realme not ruined so sore,

His nephue’s raigne should not so soone haue ceased,

The noble bloud had not beene so decreased:

His rat, his cat, and bloudhound had not noyed,

Such liegemen true, as after they destroyed.[1694]

14.

Theyr lawles actes good subiects did[1695] lament.

And so did I, and therefore made the rymes

To shew my wit, how well I could inuent,

To warne withall the carelesse of theyr crymes:

I thought the freedom of the auncient tymes

Stoode still in force: _Ridentem dicere verum_

_Quis vetat?_ nay, nay. _Veritas est pessuma[1696]

rerum._[1697]

15.

Belike no tyraunts were in _Horace’_ dayes,

And therefore poets freely blamed vice,

Witnesse theyr satyrs[1698] sharp, and traguike playes,

With chiefest princes chiefly had in price:

They name no man, they mixe theyr gall with spice,

No more doe I, I name no man outright,

But riddle wise, I meane them as I might.

16.

When bruite had brought this to theyr gylty eares,

Whose right surnames were[1699] noted in the ryme,

They all conspired, like most greedy beares,

To charge me straight with this most greeuous cryme:[1700]

And damned mee the gallow tree to clyme,

And then strangled, in[1701] quarters to bee cut,

Which should on high ouer[1702] _London_ gates be put.

17.

This iudgement giuen so vehement and sore,[1703]

Made me exclame agaynst[1704] theyr tyranny:

Wherewith encenst, to make my payne the more,

They practised a shamefull vilany:

They cut mee downe aliue, and cruelly

Ript vp my paunch and bulke, to make me smart,

And lingred long ere they tooke out my hart.

18.

Here tyraunt _Richard_ playde the eager hog,

His grashing tuskes my tender gristles shore:

His bloodhound _Louell_ playde the hungry dog,[1705]

His woluish teeth my giltles carkasse tore:

His rat, and cat, did what they might, and more

Cat _Catesby_ clawed my guts to make me smart,

The rat _Ratcliffe_[1706] gnawed mee to the hart.

19.

If Iewes had kilde the iustest king aliue,

If Turkes had burnt vp churches, gods, and all,

What greater payne could cruell hearts contriue,

Than that I suffred for this trespasse small?

I was no prince, nor peere, but yet my fall

Is worthy to be thought vpon for this,

To see how cankard tyrant’s malice is.

20.

To teach also all subiects to take heede

They medle not with magistrates affayres,

But pray to God to mend them if it neede:

To warne also all poets that be strayers,

To keepe them close in compasse of theyr chayers,

And when they touch that they would wish[1707] amended,

To sauce them so, that fewe neede bee offended.

21.

And so to mixe theyr sharpe rebukes with mirth,

That they may pearce, not causing any payne,

Saue such as followeth euery kindely byrth,

Requited strayt, with gladnes of the gayne:

A poet must be pleasaunt, not too playne,

Faults to controll, ne yet to flatter vice,[1708]

But sound and sweete, in all things ware and wise.

22.

The Greekes do paynt a poet’s office whole

In _Pegasus_, theyr fayned horse with wings,

Whome shaped so _Medusae’s_ bloud did foale,

Who with his feete strake out the muses’ springs,

Fro[1709] flinty rockes to _Hellicon_ that clings:

And then flewe vp into[1710] the starry skie,

And[1711] there abides among the gods on hye.[1712]

23.

For hee that shall a perfect poet bee,

Must first bee bred out of _Medusae’s_ bloud,

He must be chast and vertuous, as was shee

Who to her powre the Ocean god withstoode:

To th’ende also his doome be iust and good,

Hee must, as shee, looke rightly with one eye

Truth to regarde, and write nothing awrye.[1713]

24.

In courage eke he must be like a horse,

He may not feare to register the right:

What though some frowne? thereof he may not force,[1714]

No bit, nor reyne, his tender iawes may twight:

He must be armde with strength of wit and sprite,

To dash the rocks, darke causes and obscure,

Till hee attayne the springs of truth most pure.

25.

His hooues also must[1715] plyant bee and strong,

To riue the rocks of lust and errours blinde,

In braynlesse heads, that alway wander wrong:

These must hee brise[1716] with reasons playne and kinde,

Till springs of grace doe gush out of the minde:

For till affections from the fond be driuen,

In vayne is truth tolde, or good counsayle giuen.

26.

Like _Pegasus_ a poet must haue wings,

To flye to heauen, or where him liketh best:[1717]

He must haue knowledge of eternall things,

Almighty Ioue must harbour in his brest:

With worldly cares he may not be opprest,

The wings of wit and skill[1718] must heaue him hyer,

With great delight to satisfie desier.[1719]

27.

He must also be lusty,[1720] free, and swift

To trauayle far, to vewe the trades of men,

Great knowledge oft is gotten by this[1721] shift:

Things that import hee[1722] must bee quicke to pen,

Reprouing vices sharply now and then:

He must be swift when touched tyraunts chafe,

To gallop thence, to keepe his carkas safe.

28.

If I had well these qualityes considered,[1723]

Especially that which I touched last,

With speedy flight my feete should haue deliuered

My feeble body from [a] most boystrous blast,[1724]

They should haue caught mee, ere I had be cast:[1725]

But too much trusting to a tyraunt’s[1726] grace,

I neuer shronke, nor chaunged port or place.

29.

I thought the poet’s auncient libertyes

For pleas had beene allowed at the bar:[1727]

I had forgot how newe found tyrannyes

With truth[1728] and freedom were at open war,

That lust was lawe, that might did make and marre,

That among tyraunts this is[1729] and euer was,[1730]

_Sic volo, sic iubeo, stet pro ratione voluntas_.

30.

Where lust is[1731] lawe it booteth not to pleade,

No priuelege nor[1732] libertyes avayle:

But with the learnde, whome lawe and wisdome leade,

Although through rashnes poets hap to rayle,

A plea of dotage may all quarels quayle:

Theyr olde licence[1733] theyr writings to expounde,

Doth quit them cleare from faults by Momus founde.

31.

This freedom old ought[1734] not to be debard

From any wight that speaketh ought, or writeth:

The author’s meaning should of right be heard,

He knoweth best to what end he enditeth:

Wordes somtime beare more then the heart behiteth:

Admit therefore the author’s exposition,

If playne, for trueth: if forc’d, for his submission.

32.

In case of slaunder, [the] lawes[1735] requyre no more,

Saue to amend that seemed not well sayde:[1736]

Or to vnsay the slaunder’s sayde afore,

And aske forgiuenes for the hasty brayde:

To heretikes no greater payne is layde,

Then to recant theyr errours, or retract:

And worse then these can be no writer’s acte.

33.

“Yes,” quoth the Cat, “thy rayling words be treason,

And treason is far worse then heresy:”

Then must it follow by this awkewarde[1737] reason,

That kings be more then God in maiesty,

And soules be lesse then bodyes in degree:

For heretikes both soules and God offend,

Traytors but seeke to bring man’s life to end.

34.

I speake not this t’abace[1738] the haynous fault,

Of trayterous actes abhorde by God[1739] and man,

But to make playne theyr iudgement to be naught,

That heresy for lesser sin doe ban:

I curse them both as deepe as any can,

And alway did: yet through my foolish ryme,

They stayned mee with that most hatefull cryme.[1740]

35.

I neuer meant the king or counsayl harme,

Unles to wish them safty were offence:

Agaynst theyr powre I neuer lifted arme,

Nor pen, nor tongue, for any ill pretence:

The ryme I made, though rude, was sound in sence,

For they therein, whom I so fondly named,

So ruled all that they were foule defamed.

36.

This was no treason, but the very troth,

They ruled all, none could deny the same:

What was the cause then why they were so wroth?

What, is it treason in a ryming frame

To clip, to stretch, to adde, or chaunge a name?

And this reserued, there is no ryme nor reason,

That any craft can clout to seeme a treason.

37.

For where I meant the king by name of hog,

I only alluded to his badge the bore:

To _Louel’s_ name I added more our dog,

Because most dogs haue borne that name of yore:

These metaphors I vsde[1741] with other more,

As cat, and rat, the halfe names of the rest,

To hide the sence that they so wrongly wrest.

38.

I pray you now what treason finde you heare?

Enough, you rubd the gilty on the gaule,

Both sence and names doe note them very neare:

I graunt that was the chiefe cause of my faule,

Yet can you finde therein no treason at all:

There is no worde against the prince, or state,

No harme to them whom all the realme did hate.

39.

But sith the gilty alwayes are suspicious,

And dread the ruin that must sue by reason,

They cannot choose but count theyr counsayle vicious

That note theyr faults, and therefore call it treason:

All grace and goodnes with the lewde is geason:

This is the cause why they good thinges doe wrest,

Whereas the good take ill things to the best.

40.

And therefore, _Baldwine_, boldly to the good

Rebuke their fault, so[1742] shalt thou purchase thankes:

As for the bad, thou shalt but moue their[1743] moode,

Though pleasauntly thou touch their naughty prankes:[1744]

Warne poets all, no wise to[1745] passe the bankes

Of Hellicon, but keepe within the bound:[1746]

So shall their freedome to[1747] no harme redound.[1748][1749]

[“God’s blessing on his heart that made this:” sayd one,

“specially for reuiuing our auncient liberties. And I pray God it

may take such place with the magistrates, that they may ratifie

our olde freedome.” “Amen,” sayd another: “for that shall bee

a meane both to stay and vpholde themselues from falling, and

also to preserue many kinde, true, zealous, and well meaning

mindes from slaughter and infamy. If king _Richarde_ and his

counsailours had allowed, or at the least but winked at some

such wits, what great commodities might they haue taken thereby?

First, they should haue knowen what the people misliked and

grudged at, (which no one of their flatterers either woulde or

durst haue tolde them) and so mought haue found meane, eyther

by amendment (which is best) or by some other pollicy to haue

stayed the people’s grudge: the forerunner commonly of ruler’s

destruction.[1750] _Vox populi_, _vox Dei_, in this case is

not so famous a prouerbe, as true: the experience of all times

doe[1751] approue it. They should also haue bene warned of their

owne sinnes, which call continually for God’s vengeaunce, which

neuer faileth to fall on their neckes sodainly and horribly,

vnles it bee stayed with hearty repentaunce. These weighty

commodities mought they haue taken by _Collingbourn’s_ vaine

rime. But, as all thinges worke to the best in them that bee

good, so best thinges heape vp mischiefe in the wicked, and all

to hasten their vtter destruction. For after this poore wretche’s

lamentable persecution (the common rewarde of best endeuours)

strait followed the fatall[1752] destruction both of this tyrant,

and of his tormentours. Which I wishe might bee so set forth,

that they might bee a warning for euer, to all in authority,

to beware howe they vsurpe or abuse theyr offices.” “I haue

here,” quoth[1753] I, “king _Richard’s_ tragedy.” “Reade it,

wee pray you:” quoth[1754] they. “With a good will,” quoth[1755]

I. “For the better vnderstanding whereof, imagine that you see

him tormented with _Diues_ in the deepe pit of hell, and thence

howling this which followeth.”]

[How _Richarde Plantagenet_ Duke of Glocester murdered

his brother’s children, vsurping the crowne, and in

the third yeare of his raigne was most worthely

depriued of life and kingdome, in Bosworth

plaine, by _Henry_ Earle of Richmond

after called King _Henry_ the vij.

the 22 of August 1485.[1756]

What heart so hard, but doth abhorre to heare

The rufull raigne of me the third _Richard_?

King vnkindly calde, though I the crown did weare,

Who entred by rigour, but right did not regard,

By tyranny proceding in killing king _Edward_,

Fift of that name, right heyr vnto the crowne,

With _Richard_ his brother, princes of renowne.

Of trust they were committed vnto my gouernaunce,

But trust turned to treason, too truly it was tryed,

Both agaynst nature, duty, and alleigaunce,

For through my procurement most shamefully they dyed:

Desire of a kingdom forgetteth all kinred,

As after by discourse it shalbe shewed here,

How cruely these innocents in prison murdered[1757] were.

The lords and commons all with one assent,

Protectour made me both of land and king,

But I therewith, alas, was not content:

For minding mischife I ment another thing,

Which to confusion in short time did mee bring:

For I, desirous to rule and raigne alone,

Sought crowne and kingdom, yet title had I none.

To all peeres and princes a president I may bee,

The like to beware how they do enterprise,

And learne theyr wretched falles by my fact to foresee,

Which rufull stand bewayling my chaunce before theyr eyes,

As one cleane bereft of all felicityes:

For right through might I cruelly defaced,

But might helped right and mee agayne displaced.

Alas, that euer prince should thus his honour stayne

With the bloud of innocents, most shamefull to be tolde:

For these two noble impes I caused to be slaine,

Of yeares not full ripe as yet to rule and raigne:

For which I was abhorred both of yong and olde,

But as the deede was odious in sight of God and man,

So shame and destruction in the end I wan.

Both God, nature, duty, alleigaunce all forgot,

This vile and haynous act vnnaturally conspyred:[1758]

Which horrible deede done, alas, alas, God wot,

Such terrours mee tormented, and my sprites[1759] fired

As vnto such a murder and shamefull deede required,

Such broyle dayly felt I breeding in my brest,

Whereby, more and more, increased mine vnrest.

My brother’s children were right heyres vnto the crowne,

Whom nature rather bound to defend then destroy,

But I not regarding theyr right nor my renowne,

My whole care and study to this end did employe,

The crowne to obtayne, and them both to put downe:

Wherein I God offended, prouoking iust his ire,

For this my attempt and most wicked desire.

To cursed[1760] _Cayn_ compare my carefull case,

Which did vniustly slay his brother iust _Abel_:

And did not I in rage make run that rufull race

My brother duke of _Clarence_? whose deth I shame to tel,

For that it was so straunge as it was horrible:

For sure he drenched was, and yet no water neare,

Which straunge is to bee tolde, to all that shall it heare.

The but hee was not whereat I did shoote,

But yet he stoode betweene the marke and mee,

For had he liu’d,[1761] for mee it was no boote

To tempt[1762] the thing that by no meanes could bee,

For I third was then of my brethren three:

But yet I thought the elder being gone,

Then needes must I beare the stroke alone.

10.

Desire of rule made mee, alas, to rewe,

My fatall fall I could it not foresee,

Puft vp in pride, so hawty then I grewe,

That none my peere I thought now could bee,

Disdayning such as were of high degree:

Thus dayly rising, and pulling other downe,

At last I shot how to win the crowne.

11.

And dayly deuising which was the best way

And meane, how I might my nephues both deuour:

I secretly then sent, without furder delay,

To _Brackinbury_, then lieutenaunt of the tower,

Requesting him by letters to helpe vnto his power,

For to accomplish this my desire and will,

And that hee would secretly my brother’s children kill.

12.

He aunswered playnly with a flat nay,

Saying that to dye hee would not doe that deede:

But finding then a profer to my[1763] pray,

“Well worth a friend (quoth[1764] I) yet in time of neede:”

_Iames Tyrrill_ hight his name, whom with all speede,

I sent agayne to _Brackinbury_, as you heard before,

Commaunding him deliuer the keyes of euery dore.

13.

The keyes hee rendred,[1765] but partaker would not be

Of that flagitious fact. O, happy man, I say:

As you haue heard before, he rather chose to dye,

Then on those sely lambes his violent hands to lay:

His conscience him pricked his prince to betraye,

O constant minde, that wouldst not condiscend,

Thee may I prayse, and my selfe discommend.

14.

What though hee refused, yet bee sure you may,

That other were as ready to take in hand that[1766] thing,

Which watched and wayted as duely for their pray,

As euer did the cat for the mouse taking,

And how they might their purpose best to passe bring:

Where _Tyrrill_ hee thought good to haue no bloud shed,

Becast them to kill by smothering in their bed.

15.

The wolues at hand were redy to deuoure

The seely lambes in bed, wheras they laye,

Abiding death, and looking for the howre,

For well they wist, they could not scape away:

Ah, woe is mee, that did them thus betray,

In assigning this vile deede to bee done,

By _Miles Forrest_ and wicked _Ihon Dighton_.

16.

Who priuely into their chamber stale,

In secret wise somwhat before midnight,

And gan the bed together tug and hale,

Bewrapping them, alas, in wofull[1767] plight,

Keping them downe, by force, by power, and might,

With haling, tugging, turmoyling, turnde[1768] and tost,

Tyll they of force were forced yeeld the ghost.

17.

Which when I heard, my hart I felt was eased

Of grudge, of griefe, and inward deadly payne,

But with this deede the nobles were displeased,

And sayde: “O God, shall such a tyrant raygne,

That hath so cruelly his brother’s children slayne?”

Which bruit once blowen in the people’s ears,

Their doloure was such, that they brast out in tears.

18.

But what thing may suffise vnto the gredy[1769] man,

The more hee baths in bloud, the bloudier hee is alway:

By proofe I do this speake, which best declare it can,

Which onely was the cause of this prince’s decay:

The wolfe was neuer gredier then I was of my pray:

But who so vseth murder, full well affirme I dare,

With murder shall bee quit, ere hee thereof beware.

19.

And marke the sequel of this begone mischiefe:

Which shortly after was cause of my decay,

For high and low conceiued such a griefe

And hate agaynst mee, which sought, day by day,

All wayes and meanes that possible they may,

On mee to bee reuenged for this sinne,

For cruelly murdering vnnaturally my kyn.

20.

Not only kyn, but king, the truth to say,

Whom vnkindely of kingdome I bereft,

His lyfe from him, I also raught[1770] away,

With his brother’s, which to my charge was[1771] left:

Of ambition beholde the worke and weft,

Prouoking mee to do this haynous treason,

And murder them, agaynst all right and reason.

21.

After whose death thus wrought by violence,

The lords not lyking this vnnaturall deede,

Began on mee to haue greate diffidence,

Such brinning hate gan in their harts to breede,

Which made mee doubt, and sore my daunger dreede:

Which doubt and dreede proued not in vayne,

By that ensude, alas, vnto my payne.

22.

For I supposing all things were as I wished,

When I had brought these sely[1772] babes to bane,

But yet in that my purpose far I missed:

For as the moone doth chaunge after the wane,

So chaunged the hearts of such as I had tane

To bee most true, to troubles did mee tourne:

Such rage and rancoure in boyling brests doth[1773] burne.

23.

And sodainly a bruit abroade was blowne,

That _Buckingham_ the duke, both sterne and stout,

In field was ready, with diuers to mee knowne,

To giue mee battayle if I durst come out:

Which daunted mee and put mee in greate doubt,

For that I had no army then prepared:

But after that, I litle for it cared.

24.

But yet remembring, that oft a litle sparke

Suffred doth growe vnto a greate flame,

I thought it wisdome wisly for to warke,

Mustred then men in euery place I came:

And marched forward dayly with the same,

Directly towards the towne of _Salisbury_,

Where I gat knowledge of the duke’s army.

25.

And as I passed ouer _Salisburie_ downe,

The rumour ran the duke was fled and gone,

His hoast dispersed besides _Shrewesbury_ towne,

And hee dismaied was left there post alone,

Bewailing his chaunce and making great mone:

Towards whome I hasted with all expedition,

Making due search and diligent inquisition.

26.

But at the fyrst I could not of him heare,

For hee was scaped by secrete bywayes,

Unto the house of _Humfrey Banastaire_,

Whome hee had much preferred in his dayes,

And was good lorde to him, in all assaies:

Which hee full ill[1774] requited in the end,

When hee was driuen to seeke a trusty frend.

27.

For so it happened to his mishap, alas,

When I no knowledge of the duke could heare:

A proclamation, by my commaundement, was

Published and cryed throughout euery shyre,

That whoso could tell where the duke were,

A thousand marke shoulde haue for his payne:

What thing so hard but mony can obtayne?

28.

But were it for mony, meede, or dreede,

That _Banastaire_ thus betrayed his ghest,

Diuers haue diuersly deuined of this deede,

Some deeme the worst, and some iudge the best,

The doubt not dissolued, nor playnly exprest:

But of the duke’s death hee doubtless was cause,

Which dyed without iudgement, or order of lawes.

29.

Loe, this noble duke I brought thus vnto bane,

Whose doings I doubted and had in greate dread,

At _Banastaire’s_ house I made him to bee tane,

And without iudgement be shortned by the head,

By the shriue of _Shropshyre_ to _Salisburie_ led,

In the market place vpon the scaffolde newe,

Where all the beholders did much his death rewe.

30.

And after this done I brake vp my hoaste,

Greatly applauded with this heauy hap,[1775]

And forthwith I sent to euery sea cost,

To foresee all mischieues and stop euery gap,

Before they shoud chaunce or[1776] light in my lap,

Geuing them in charge to haue good regarde

The sea cost to keepe, with good watch and warde.

31.

Dyrecting my letters vnto euery shriue,

With strait commaundement vnder our name,

To suffer no man in their partes to aryue,

Nor to passe forth out of the same,

As they tendred our fauour, and voyde would our blame,

Doing therein theyr payne and industry,

With diligent care and vigilant eye.

32.

And thus setting things in order as you heare,

To preuent mischieues that might then betyde,

I thought my selfe sure, and out of all feare,

And for other things began to prouide:

To _Nottingham_ castle straight did I ryde,

Where I was not very long space,

Straunge tydings came, which did mee sore amaze.

33.

Reported it was, and that for certainty,

The earle[1777] of _Richmond_ landed was in _Wales_

At _Milford_ hauen, with an huge army,

Dismissing his nauy which were many sayles:

Which, at the fyrst, I thought flying tales,

But in the end did otherwise proue,

Which not a little did mee vexe and moue.

34.

Thus fauning fortune gan on mee to frowne,

And cast on mee her scornfull lowring looke:

Then gan I feare the fall of my renowne,

My heart it faynted, my sinowes sore they shooke,

This heauy hap a scourge for sinne I tooke:

Yet did I not then vtterly dispayre,

Hoping storms past the weather shoulde bee fayre.

35.

And then with all speede possible I might,

I caused them muster throughout euery shyre,

Determining with the earle spedely to fyght,

Before that his power much encreased were,

By such as to him great fauour did beare:

Which were no small number, by true report made,

Dayly repayring him for to ayde.

36.

Dyrecting my letters to diuers noble men,

With earnest request their power to prepare

To _Notingham_ castle, where, as I lay then,

To ayde and assist mee in this waighty affayre:

Where straite to my presence did then repayre,

_Ihon_ duke of _Northfolke_, his eldest sonne also,

With th’earle of _Northumberland_ and many other mo.

37.

And thus being furnisht with men and munition,

Forwarde wee marched in order of battayle ray,

Making by scouts euery way inquisition,

In what place the earle with his campe lay:

Towards whom dyrectly wee tooke then our way,

Euermore mynding to seeke our most auayle,

In place conuenient to gieue to him battayle.

38.

So long wee laboured, at last our armies met

On _Bosworth_ playne, besides _Lecester_ towne,

Where sure I thought the garland for to get,

And purchase peace, or els to lose my crowne:

But fickle fortune, alas, on mee did frowne,

For when I was enchamped in the fielde,

Where most I trusted I soonest was begylde.

39.

The brand of malice thus kindling in my brest

Of deadly hate which I to him did beare,

Pricked mee forward, and bad mee not desist,

But boldly fight, and take at all no feare,

To wyn the field, and the earle to conquere:

Thus hoping glory greate to gayne and get,

Myne army then in order did I set.

40.

Betyde mee lyfe or death I desperatly ran,

And ioyned mee in battayle with this earle so stoute,

But fortune so him fauoured that hee the battayle wan,

With force and great power I was beset about:

Which when I did beholde, in midst of the whole route,

With dint of sword I cast mee on him to be reuenged,

Where in the midst of them my wretched life I ended.

41.

My body was hurried and tugged like a dog,

On horsebacke all naked and bare as I was borne:

My heade, hands, and feete, downe hanging lyke a hog,

With dirte and bloud besprent, my corpes all to torne,

Cursing the day that euer I was borne:

With greuous woundes bemangled, moste horrible to see,

So sore they did abhorre this my vile cruelty.

42.

Loe, heare you may behold the due and iust rewarde

Of tyranny and treason, which God doth most detest:

For if vnto my duety I had taken regarde,

I might haue liued still in honour with the best,

And had I not attempt the thing that I ought leste:

But desyre to rule, alas, did mee so blinde,

Which caused mee to doe agaynst nature and kynde.

43.

Ah, cursed caytife, why did I climbe so hye,

Which was the cause of this my balefull thrall:

For still I thirsted for the regall dignitye,

But hasty rising threatneth sodayne fall:

Content your selues with your estates all,

And seeke not right by wrong to suppresse,

For God hath promist ech wrong to redresse.

44.

See here the fine and fatall fall of mee,

And guerdon due for this my wretched deede,

Which to all princes a miroir now may bee,

That shall this tragicall story after reede,

Wishing them all by mee to take heede,

And suffer right to rule as it is reason:

For tyme tryeth out both truth and also treason.

F. Seg.[1778]]

[When I had read this, we had much talke about it. For it

was thought not vehement enough for so violent a man as king

_Richard_ had bene. The matter was well enough liked of some,

but the meetre was misliked almost of all. And when diuers

therefore would not allowe it, “What,” quoth[1779] one, “you

know not wherevpon you sticke: els you would not so much mislike

this because of the vncertaine meeter. The cumlines called by

the rhetoricians decorum, is specially to bee obserued in all

thinges. Seing than that king _Richard_ neuer kept measure in

any of his doings, seeing also hee speaketh in hell, whereas is

no order: it were against that[1780] decorum of his personage,

to vse either good meetre or order. And therefore if his oration

were farre worse, in my opinion it were more fit for him. _Mars_

and the muses did neuer agree. Neither is to be suffered,

that their milde sacred arte should seeme to proceede from so

cruell and prophane a mouth as his: seeing they themselues doe

vtterly abhorre it. And although wee read of _Nero_, that hee

was excellent both in musicke and in versifying, yet doe not

I remember that euer I sawe any song or verse of his making:

_Minerua_ iustly prouiding, that no monument should remayne of

any such vniust vsurpation. And therefore let this passe euen

as it is, which the writer I know both could and would amend in

many places, saue for keeping the decorum, which he purposely

hath obserued herein.” “In deede,” quoth[1781] I, “as you say:

it is not meete that so disorderly and vnnaturall a man as king

_Richard_ was, should obserue any metricall order in his talke:

which notwithstanding in many places of his oration is very

well kepte: it shall passe therefore euen as it is, though too

good for so euill[1782] a person.”[1783] Then they willed mee

to reade the blacke Smith. “With a good will,” quoth I: “but

first you must imagin that you see him standing on a ladder ouer

shrined with the Tyburne, a meete stage for all such rebelles and

traytours: and there stoutly saying as followeth.”]

The wilfvll fall of the blacke Smith, and the

foolishe ende of the Lorde _Awdeley_,

in Iune, Anno 1496.[1784]

Who is more bolde then is the blinde beard?[1785]

Where is more craft than in the clouted shone?

Who catch more harme than such as nothing feard?[1786]

Where is more guile then where mistrust in[1787] none?

No plaisters helpe before the griefe be knowen,

So seemes by mee who could no wisdome lere,

Untill such time I bought my wit too deare.

Who, being boystrous, stout, and braynlesse bolde,

Puft vp with pride, with fire and furyes fret,

Incenst with tales so rude and playnly tolde,

Wherein deceit with double knot was knit,

I trapped was as seely fishe in net,

Who swift in swimming, not doubtfull of[1788] deceit,

Is caught in gin wherein is layde no bayt.

Such force and vertue hath this dolefull playnt,

Set forth with sighes and teares of crocodile,

Who seemes in sight as simple as a saynt,

Hath layde a bayte the wareles to begyle,

And as they wepe they worke deceit the while,

Whose rufull cheare the rulers so relent,

To worke in haste that they at last repent.

Take heede therefore ye rulers of the land,

Be blinde in sight, and stop your other eare:

In sentence slow, till skill the truth hath scand,

In all your doomes both loue and hate forbeare,

So shall your iudgement iust and right appeare:

It was a southfast sentence long agoe,

That hasty men shall neuer lacke much woe.

Is it not truth? _Baldwine_, what sayest thou?

Say on thy minde: I pray thee muse no more:

Me thinke thou star’st and look’st[1789] I wot not howe,

As though thou neuer saw’st[1790] a man before:

Belike thou musest why I teach this lore,

Els what I am, that here so bouldly[1791] dare,

Among the prease of princes to compare.

Though I bee bolde I pray the blame not mee,

Like as men sowe, such corne nedes must they reape,

And nature hath so planted in[1792] eche degree,

That crabs like crabs will kindly crall and crepe:

The suttle foxe vnlike the sely shepe:

It is according to my education,

Forward to prease in rout and congregation.

Behold my coate burnt with the sparkes of fire,

My lether apron fylde with the[1793] horse shoe nayles,

Beholde my hammer and my pinsers here,

Beholde my lookes, a marke that seldom fayles,

My cheekes declare I was not fed with quayles,

My face, my cloathes, my tooles, with all my fashion,

Declare full well a prince of rude creation.

A prince I sayde, a prince, I say agayne,

Though not by byrth, by crafty vsurpation:

Who doubts but some men princehood do obtayne,

By open force, and wrongfull domination?

Yet while they rule are had in reputation:

Euen so by mee, the while I wrought my feate

I was a prince, at least in my conceyte.

I dare the bolder take on mee the name,

Because of him whom here I leade in hand,

_Tychet_ lord _Awdley_, a lorde of byrth[1794] and fame,

Which with his strength and powre serude in my band,

I was a prince while that I was so mande:

His butterfly still vnderneath my shielde

Displayed was, from _Welles_ to _Blackeheath_ fielde.

10.

But now beholde hee doth bewayle the same:

Thus after wits theyr rashnes do depraue:

Beholde dismayde hee dare not speake for shame,

He lookes like one that late came from the graue,

Or one that came forth of _Trophonius_ caue,

For that in wit hee had so litle pith,

As he a lord to serue a traytour smith.

11.

Such is the courage of the noble hart,

Which doth despise the vile and baser sort,

Hee may not touch that sauers of the cart,

Him listeth not with ech jacke lout to sport,

Hee lets him passe for payring of his porte:

The iolly egles catch not litle flees,

The courtly silkes match seelde with homely frees.

12.

But surely, _Baldwine_, if I were allowde

To say the troth, I could somewhat declare:

But clarkes will say: “This smith doth waxe to prowde,

Thus in precepts of wisedome to compare:”

But smiths must speake that clarkes for feare ne dare:

It is a thing that all men may lament,

When clarkes keepe close the truth lest they be shent.

13.

The hostler, barber, miller, and the smith,

Heare of the sawes of such as wisdom ken,

And learne some wit, although they want the pith

That clarkes pretend: and yet, both now and then,

The greatest clarkes proue not the wisest men:

It is not right that men forbid should bee

To speake the truth, all were hee bond or free.

14.

And for because I [haue] vsed to fret and fome,

Not passing greatly whom I should displease,

I dare be bolde a while to play the mome,

Out of my sacke some other’s faults to lease,

And let mine[1795] owne behinde my backe to peyse:

For hee that hath his owne before his eye,

Shall not so quicke another’s fault espye.

15.

I say was neuer no such wofull case,

As is when honour doth it selfe abuse:

The noble man that vertue doth embrace,

Represseth pride, and humblenes doth vse,

By wisdome workes, and rashnes doth refuse:

His wanton will and lust that bridle can

In deede, is gentill, both to God and man.

16.

But where the nobles want both wit and grace,

Regarde no rede, care not but for theyr lust,

Oppresse the poore, set will in reason’s place,

And in theyr wordes and doomes bee found vniust,

Wealth goeth to wracke till all lye in the dust:

There fortune frownes, and spite begins[1796] to growe,

Till high, and lowe, and all be ouerthrowe.

17.

Then sith that vertue hath so good rewarde,

And after vice so duly wayteth shame,

How hapth that princes haue no more regarde,

Theyr tender youth with vertue to enflame?

For lacke whereof theyr wit and will is lame,

Infect with folly, prone to lust and pryde,

Not knowing how themselues or theyrs to guyde.

18.

Whereby it hapneth to the wanton wight,

As to a ship vpon the stormy seas,

Which lacking sterne to guide it selfe aright,

From shore to shore the winde and tyde to[1797] teese,

Fynding no place to rest or take his ease,

Till at the last it sinke vpon the sande:

So fare they all that haue no vertue[1798] cand.

19.

The plowman first his land doth dresse and tourne,

And makes it apt or ere the seede hee[1799] sowe,

Whereby hee is full like to reape good corne,

Where otherwise no seede but weede would growe:

By which ensample men may easely knowe,

When youth haue welth before they can well vse it,

It is no wonder though they do abuse it.

20.

How can hee rule well in a common wealth,

Which knoweth not himselfe in rule to frame?

How should hee rule himselfe in ghostly health,

Which neuer learnde one lesson for the same?

If such catch harme theyr parents are too blame:

For needes must they be blinde, and blindly led,

Where no good lesson can be taught or read.

21.

Some thinke theyr youth discret and wisely taught,

That brag, and boast, and weare theyr fether braue,

Can royst, and rout, both lowre, and looke aloft,

Can sweare, and stare, and call theyr fellowes knaue,

Can pill, and poll, and catch before they craue,

Can carde and dice, both cog and foyste at fare,

Play on vnthrifty, till theyr purse bee bare.

22.

Some teach theyr youth to pype, to sing, and daunce,

To hauke, to hunt, to choose and kill theyr game,

To winde theyr horne, and with theyr horse to praunce,

To play at tenis, set the lute in frame,

Run at the ring, and vse such other game:

Which feats although they be not all vnfit,

Yet cannot they the marke of vertue hit.

23.

For noble youth, there is nothing so meete

As learning is, to knowe the good from yll:

To knowe the toungs and perfectly endyte,

And of the lawes to haue a perfect skill,

Things to reforme as right and iustice will:

For honour is ordeyned for no cause,

But to see right mayntayned by the lawes.

24.

It spites my heart to heare when noble men

Cannot disclose their secrets to t’ire frend

In sauegarde sure, with paper, inke, and pen,

But first they must a secretary fynde,

To whome they shewe the bottome of theire mynde:

And bee hee false or true, a blab or close,

To him they must theyr counsayle needs disclose.

25.

And where they rule that haue of lawe no skill,

There is no boote, they needes must seeke for ayde:

Then rulde are they, and rule as others will,

As hee that on a stage his part hath playde:

But hee was taught, nought hath hee done or sayde:

Such youth therfore seeke science of the sage,

As thinke to rule when that ye come to age.

26.

Where youth is brought vp in feare and obedience,

Kept from yll company, brydled of theyr lust,

Do serue God duly and know theire allegiaunce,

Learne godly wisdome[1800] which tyme nor age can rust:

Theire prince, people, and peers needes prosper must:

For happy are the people, and blessed is that land,

Where truth and vertue haue got the ouer hand.

27.

I speake this, _Baldwine_, of this rufull lord,

Whome I, perforce, do here present to thee,

He faynts so sore hee may not speake a word:

I pleade his cause without rewarde or fee,

And am enforc’d[1801] to speake for him and mee:

If in his youth hee had bene wisely tought,

Hee should not now his wit so deare haue bought.

28.

For what is hee that hath but halfe a wit,

But may well know that rebelles cannot speede:

Marke well my tale, and take good heede to it,

Recount it well, and take it for good reede,

If it proue vntrue[1802] I will not trust my creede:

Was neuer rebell before the world, nor since,[1803]

That could or shall preuayle agaynst his prince.

29.

For ere the subiect beginneth[1804] to rebell,

Within him selfe let him consider well,

Foresee the daunger, and beate [well] in his brayne,

How hard it is his purpose to obtayne:

For if hee once bee entred to the brears,

Hee hath a raging wolfe fast by the ears.

30.

And when hee is once entred to[1805] rule the [beastly] rout,

Although hee would, he can no way get out:

Hee may bee sure none will to him resorte,

But such as are the vile and rascall sorte:

All honest men, as well the most as lest,

To tast of treason will vtterly detest.

31.

Then let him way how long hee can bee sure,

Where fayth nor frendship may no while endure:

Hee whom hee trusteth most, to gayne a grote

Will fall him from, and assay[1806] to cut his throate:

Among the knaues and slaues where vice is rooted,

There is no other frendship to bee looked.

32.

With slashers, slaues, and snuffers so falshode is[1807] in price,

The simple fayth is deadly sinne,[1808] and vertue counted vice:

And where the quarell is so vile and bad,

What hope of ayde then is there to bee had?

Thinks hee that men will run at this or that,

To do a thing they knowe not how or what?

33.

Nor yet what daunger may thereof betyde,

Where wisdome would they should at home abyde,

Rather then seeke, and knowe not what to fynde:

Wise men will fyrst debate this in their minde:

Full suer they are if that they goe to wrecke,

Without all grace they loose both head and necke.

34.

They lose their lands and goods, their childe and wife

With sorrowe and shame shall leade a wofull lyfe:

If hee bee slayne in fielde hee dyeth accurst,

Which of all wrecks wee should accompt the worst:

And hee that dyeth defending his liege lord

Is blist, and blist agayne by God’s owne worde.

35.

And where the souldiers wages is vnpayde,

There is the captayne slenderly obayde:

And where the souldier is out[1809] of feare and dreede,

Hee will bee lacke when that there is most neede,

And priuatly hee seekes his ease and leasure,

And will bee ruled but at his will and pleasure.

36.

And where some drawe forth, [and] other doe drawe backe,

There in the end must nedes bee woe and wracke:

To hope for ayde of lords it is but vayne,

Whose foretaught wit of treason knoweth the payne:

They knowe what powre a prince hath in his hand,

And what it is with rebells for to stand.

37.

They knowe by treason honour is defaced,

Their ofspring and their progeny disgraced:

They knowe to honour[1810] is not so worthy a thing,

As to bee true and faythfull to their king:

Aboue cognisaunce or armes, or pedigrewe a far,

An vnspotted coate is lyke a blasing star:

38.

Therefore the rebell is accurst and mad,

That hopeth[1811] for that which rebell neuer had:

Who trusting still to tales doth hang in hope,

Tyll at the last hee hang fast by the rope,

For though that tales bee tolde that hope might feede,

Such foolishe hope hath still vnhappy speede.

39.

It is a custome [that] neuer will be broken,

In broyles the bag of lyes is euer open:

Such lying newes men dayly will inuent,

As can the hearer’s fancy best content:

And as the newes do runne and neuer cease,

So more and more they dayly do encrease.

40.

And as they encrease,[1812] they multiply as fast,

That ten is ten hundred, ten thousand at the last:

And though the rebell had once got the fielde,

Thinks hee therby to make his prince to yeelde?

A prince’s power, within his owne region,

Is not so soone brought vnto confusion.

41.

For kings by[1813] God are strong and stoutly harted,

That they of subiects will not bee subuerted:

If kings would yeelde, yet God would them restrayne,

Of whom the prince hath grace and power to raygne:

Who straytly chargeth vs aboue all thing,

That no man should resist agaynst his king.

42.

Who that resisteth his dreade soueraign lorde,

Doth dampne his soule, by God’s owne very worde,

A christian[1814] subiect shoulde with honour due

Obay his souerayne, though hee were a Jewe:

Wherby assured[1815] when subiects do rebell,

God’s wrath is kindled, and threatneth fire and hell.

43.

It is soone knowne when God’s wrath[1816] is kindled,

How they shall speede with whom hee is offended:

If God gieue victory to whom hee liketh best,

Why looke they for it whom God doth most detest?

For treason is hatefull, and abhord in God’s sight,

Example of Iudas that most wicked wight:

44.

Which is the chiefe cause no treason preuayles,

For yll must hee spede whom God’s wrath assayles:

Let traytours and rebelles looke to speede then,

When God’s mighty power is subiect to men:

Much might bee sayde that goeth more nere the pith:

But this sufficeth for a rurall smith.

45.

_Baldwine_, when thou hearest my reason[1817] in this case,

Belike thou thinkest[1818] I was not very wise,

And that I was accurst, or else wanted[1819] grace,

Which knowing the end of my fond enterprise,

Would thus presume agaynst my prince to rise:

But as there is a cause that moueth euery woe,

Somewhat there was whereof this sore did growe.

46.

And to bee playne and simple in this case,

The cause why I such matter tooke in hand,

Was nothing els but pryde and lacke of grace,

Vayne hope of helpe, and tales both false and fond:

By meane whereof I did my prince withstand,

Denied the taxe assest by conuocation,

To mayntaine war agaynst the _Scottishe_ nation.

47.

Whereat the _Cornish_ men did much repine,

For they of golde and siluer were full bare,

And liued hardly, digging in the myne,

They sayd they had no money for to spare:

Began first to grudge, and then to sweare and stare,

Forgot theyr due obeysaunce, and rashly fell to rauing,

And sayd they would not beare such polling and such shauing.

48.

They fyrst accusde the king as authour of their greife,

And then the bishop _Moreton_, and sir _Reinold Bray_:

For they then were about the king most cheife,

Because they thought the whole[1820] fault in them lay:

They dyd protest to rid them out of the way:

Such thanke haue they that rule aboue a prince,

They beare the blame of other[1821] men’s offence.

49.

When I perceiude the commons in a roare,

Then I and _Flamoke_ consulted both together,[1822]

To whom the people resorted more and more,

Lamenting and crying, help vs now or neuer,

Breake this yoake of bondage,[1823] then are wee free for euer:

Wherat [wee] inflamed in hope to haue a fame,[1824]

To bee their captaynes tooke on vs the name.

50.

Then might you heare the people make a shout,

[And cry] “God saue the captaynes, and send vs all good speede:”

Then hee that fainted was counted but a lout,[1825]

The ruffians ran [abroade] to sowe seditious seede:

To call for company [then] there was no neede,

For euery man laboured another to entice,[1826]

To bee partaker of his wicked vice.

51.

Then all such newes as made for our auayle,

Was brought to me, but such as sounded ill,

Was none so bould to speake or yet bewayle:

Euerich was so wedded vnto[1827] his will,

That foorth they cryed with bowes, sword,[1828] and byll:

And what the rufler spake the lout tooke for a verdite,

For there the best was worst, [the] worst [was] best regarded.

52.

For when men goe a madding, there[1829] still the viler part[1830]

Conspyre together, and will haue all the sway:

And bee it well or yll, they must haue all the porte,[1831]

As they will do, the rest must nedes obay:

They prattle and prate as doth the popingaye:

They crye and commaund the rest[1832] to kepe th’array,

Whiles they may raunge and rob for spoyle and pray.

53.

And when wee had prepared euery thing,

Wee went to _Tawnton_ with all our prouision,

And there we slewe the prouost of _Penryn_,

For that on the subsedy hee sate in commission:[1833]

Hee was not wise, nor yet of great discretion,

That durst approche his enmies in their rage,

When wit nor reason coulde their yre asswage.

54.

From thence wee went to _Wels_, where wee were[1834] receiued

Of this lorde _Awdeley_ as [of] our chiefe captayne,

And so had[1835] the name, but yet hee was deceiued,

For I indeede did rule the clubbish trayne,

My cartly knights true honour did disdayne:

For like doth loue his like, it will[1836] bee none other,

A chorle will loue a chorle, before hee will his brother.

55.

[Then] from _Wels_ to _Winchester_, [and so] to _Blackheath_ field,

And there [wee] enchamped looking for more ayde,

But when none came, wee thought our selues begild:

Such _Cornishmen_ as knew they were betrayde,

From their fellowes by night away they strayde:[1837]

There might wee learne how vayne it is to trust

Our fayned frends, in quarels so vniust.

56.

But wee [the sturdy captaynes] that thought our power was strong,

Were bent to try [our fortune] what euer should betyde:

Wee were the bolder, for [that] the king so long

Deferred battayle: which so increast our pryde,

That sure wee thought the king himselfe did hyde

Within the cyty, therfore with[1838] courage hault,

Wee did determine the[1839] cyty to assault.

57.

But hee [working] contrary to our expectation,

Was fully mynded to[1840] let vs run our race,

Till wee were from our domesticall habitation,[1841]

Where that of ayde or succour was no place,

And then [to] bee plaged as it should please his grace:

[But] all doubtfull playnts, how euer they did sound,

To our best vayle wee alway did expound.

58.

When that the king sawe time, with courage bolde

Hee sent a powre to circumuent vs all:

Where wee enclosde as simple sheepe in folde,

Were slaine and murdred as[1842] beasts in butcher’s stall:

The king himselfe, what euer [chaunce] might fall,

Was strongly encamped[1843] within Saynt _George’s_ fielde,

And there abode tyll that hee hearde vs yeelde.

59.

Then downe wee kneelde, and cryde to saue our life,

It was to late our folly to bewayle:

There were wee spoyide of armour, coate, and knife:

And wee, which thought [with pride] the citye to assaile,

Were led in[1844] prisoners, naked as my nayle:

[But] of vs two thousand they had slayne before,

And wee of them three hundred and no more.

60.

[This] my lorde and wee the captaynes of the west,

Tooke [our] inne at Newgate, fast in fetters tide,

Where after tryall[1845] wee had but litle rest:

My lorde through _London_ was drawne on a slide,

To _Tower_ hill, where with an[1846] axe hee dyde,

Clad in his [coate] armour painted all in paper,

Torne[1847] and reuersed[1848] in spite of his behauer.[1849]

61.

And I with _Thomas Flamoke_, and[1850] other of our bent,

As traytours at Tiburne our iudgment did obay:

The people looked[1851] I should my fault lament,

To whom I [boldly] spake, that for my fond assaye

I was sure of fame,[1852] that neuer should decaye:

Wherby ye may perceiue vayne glory doth enflame

As well the meaner sort, as men of greater name.[1853]

62.

But as the fickle patient, sometyme hath desyre

To tast the things that phisicke hath denide,

And hath both payne and sorrowe for his hyre:

The same to mee right well may bee applide,

Which while I raught for fame on shame did slide:

And seeking fame, brought forth my bitter bane,

As hee that fyred the temple of _Diane_.

63.

I tell thee, _Baldwine_, I muse [right] oft, to see

How euery man for wealth and honour gapeth,

How euery man would climbe aboue the skye,

How euery man th’assured meane so hateth,

How froward fortune oft their purpose mateth:

And if they hap theire purpose to obtayne,

Their wealth is woe, their honour care and payne.

64.

Wee see the seruant more happy[1854] then his lord,

Wee see him lyue when that his lorde is dead,

Hee slepeth sounde, is mery at his boorde,

No sorrowe in his harte doth vexe his head:

Happy [then] is he that pouerty can wed:

What gayne the mighty conquerours[1855] when they be dead,

By all the spoyle, and bloud that they haue shed?

65.

The terrible towre[1856] where honour hath his seate,

Is hye on rockes more slipper then the yse,

Where still the whorleing wynde doth roare and beate,

Where sodayne qualmes and periles still aryse,

And is beset with many sundry vice,

So straunge to men when first they come thereat,

They bee amased, and do they wot not what.

66.

Hee that preuailes, and to the towre can clyme,

With trouble[1857] and care must needes abridge his dayes:

And hee that slydes may curse the howre and tyme,

Hee did attempt to geue so fond assayes,

And all his lyfe to sorrowe[1858] and shame obayes:

Thus slyde he downe, or to the top ascend,

Assure himselfe repentaunce is the end.

67.

Wherefore, good _Baldwine_, do[1859] thou record my name,

To bee ensample to[1860] such as credit lyes,

Or thrist to sucke the sugred cup of fame,

Or doe attempt agaynst their prince to ryse:

And charge them all to keepe within their syse:

Who doth assay to wrest beyond his strength,

Let him be sure hee shall repent at length.

68.

[And] at my request admonishe thou all men,

To spend well the talent[1861] which God [to them] hath lent,

[And] hee that hath [but] one, let him not toile for ten,

For one is[1862] too much, vnlesse it bee well spent:

I haue had the proofe, therefore I now repent,

And happy are those men, and blist and blist is hee,

As can bee well content to serue in his degree.[1863]

Maister Cauyll.[1864]

[“It is pity,” quoth[1865] one, “that the meeter is no better,

seeing the matter is so good: you may do very well to helpe it,

and a lytle filing would make it formal.” “The author him selfe,”

quoth[1866] I, “could haue done that, but hee would not, and hath

desired me that it may passe in such rude sort as you haue heard

it: for hee obserueth therein a double decorum both of the Smith,

and of himselfe: for hee thinketh it not meete for the Smith to

speake, nor for himselfe to write in any exact kinde of meeter.”

“Well,” sayd another, “the matter is notable to teach al people,

as well officers as subiects, to consider their estates, and to

liue in loue and obedience to the highest powers, whatsoeuer they

bee, whome God either by birth, law, succession, or vniuersall

election, doth or shall aucthorise in his owne roume to execute

his lawes and iustice among any people or nation. For by all

these meanes God placeth his deputies. And in my iudgement there

is no meane so good eyther for the common quiet of the people, or

for God’s free choise, as the naturall order of enheritaunce by

lineall discent: for so it is left in God’s handes, to creat in

the wombe what prince hee thinketh meetest for his purposes: the

people also knowe their princes, and therefore the more gladly

and willingly receiue and obay them. And although some realmes,

more carefull then wise, haue entailed theire crowne to the heire

male, thinking it not meete for the feminine sexe to beare the

royall office: yet if they consider all circumstaunces, and the

chiefest vses of a prince in a realme, they shall see how they

are deceiued. For princes are God’s lieutenauntes or deputies,

to see God’s lawes executed among theire subiects, not to rule

according to their owne lustes or deuises, but by the prescript

of God’s lawes: so that the chiefest poynt of a prince’s office

consisteth in obedience to God and to his ordinaunces, and what

shoulde let but that a woman may bee as obedient vnto God, as

a man? The second poynt of a prince’s office is to prouide for

the impotent, nedy, and helples, as widowes, orphanes, lame, and

decrepite persons: and seing women are by nature tender harted,

milde and pitifull, who may better then they discharge this duty?

Yea but a woman lacketh courage, boldnesse, and stomacke, to

withstand the aduersarie, and so are her subiects an open spoyle

to their enemies. _Debora_, _Iaell_, _Iudith_, _Thomeris_, and

other doe proue the contrary. But graunt it were so: what harme

were that, seing victory consisteth not in witte or force, but

in God’s pleasure.[1867] I am sure that whatsoeuer prince doth

his duty in obaying God, and causing iustice to bee ministred

according to God’s lawes, shall not only lacke warre (bee hee

man, woman, or childe) but also bee a terroure to all other

princes. And if God suffer any at any time to be assayled, it

is for the destruction of the assayler, whether he bee rebell

or forayne foe, and to the honour and profit of the vertuous

prince, in whose behalfe, rather then hee shall miscary, God

himselfe will fight with enfections and earthquakes from the

lande and waters, and with stormes and lightenings from the ayre

and skies. Moe warres haue bene sought through the wilfull and

hauty courages of kings, and greater destructions happened to

realmes therby, then by any other meanes. And as for wisdome and

pollicy, seing it consisteth in following the counsayle of many

godly, learned, and long experienced heades, it were better to

haue a woman, who considering her owne weaknes and inability,

should be ruled thereby, then a man which presuming vpon his

owne fond brayne, will heare no aduise saue his owne. You muse

peraduenture wherefore I say this. The franticke heades which

disable our queene, because shee is a woman, and our king because

hee is a straunger, to bee our princes and cheife gouernours,

hath caused mee to say thus mutch. For whatsoeuer man, woman,

or childe, is by the consent of the whole realme established in

the royall seate, so it haue not bene iniuriously procured by

rygour of sworde and open force, but quietly by tytle, either

of enheritaunce, succession, lawfull bequest, common consent or

election, is vndoubtedly chosen by God to bee his deputye: and

whosoeuer resisteth any suche, resisteth agaynste God himselfe,

and is a ranke traytour and rebell, and shalbe sure to prosper

as well as the blacke Smith and other suche haue done. All

resist that wilfully breake any lawe, not being agaynst God’s

lawe, made by common consent for the wealthe of the realme, and

commaunded to be kept by the authority of the prince: or that

deny to pay such duties, as by consent of the high court of

parliament, are appointed to the prince, for the defence and

preseruation of the realme.” “You haue saide very truly herein,”

quoth[1868] I, “and I trust this terrible example of the blacke

Smith, will put all men in minde of their duties, and teach them

to bee obedient to all good lawes, and lawfull contributions.

The scriptures do forbyd vs to rebell, or forcibly to withstand

princes, though they commaund vniust things: yet in any case

wee may not doe them: but receiue quietly at the prince’s hand

whatsoeuer punishment God shall suffer to bee layd vpon vs for

our refusall. God will suffer none of his to bee tempted aboue

their strength.”[1869] This talke thus being ended: “I was willed

my maisters,” quoth I, “by maister _Holinshed_, to bring sir

_Nicholas Burdet_ vnto you.” “Were you?” quoth they: “on his word

we will heare what he sayes.” “Read it, I pray you,” quod one.

“You must thinke then,” quoth I, “that you see him all wounded as

he was slaine at _Pontoise_, to say as foloweth.”]

How the Valiant Knight Sir _Nicholas Burdet_,

Chiefe Butler of Normandy, was slayne

at Pontoise, Anno 1441.

“Yf erst at prince’ affayres[1870] wee counted were of truste,

To fight in waeged warres, as captayne gainst the foes,

And might therefore aliue receiue the guerdon iuste,

Which ay his maiesty employde on those:

Why should wee so keepe silence now, and not disclose

Our noble acts to those remayne aliue,

T’encourage them the like exployts t’achiue?

For if when as wee werde,[1871] for prince and publique weale,

We might to ech for both haue time and place to speake,

Then why not now, yf wee to both appeale?

Sith both well knowe our dealeings were not weake:

Wee clayme as ryghte, in trueth our myndes to breake,

The rather eke wee thinke to speake wee franchizde ar,

Because wee serude for peace and dyde in prince his war.[1872]

Which graunted so, and held deserued due,

I may full well on stage supply the place a while,

Till I haue playnly layde before your vew

That I haue cause, as these, to playne of fortune’s guyle,

Which smirking though at first, she seeme to smoothe and smyle,

(If fortune bee) who deemde themselues in skyes to dwell,

She thirleth downe to dreade the gulfes of ghastly hell.

But here I let a while the lady fortune stay,

To tell what time I liu’d, and what our warres were then,

The great exployts wee did, and where our armies laye,

Eke of the prayse of some right honourable men,

Which things with eyes I saw, calde now to minde agen:

What I performed present in the fight,

I will in order and my fall resite.

In youth I seru’d that royall _Henry_ fifte the king,

Whose prayse for martiall feats eternall fame retaynes,

When hee the Normanes stout did in subiection bring,

My selfe was vnder then his ensignes taking paynes:

With loyall hart I faught, pursude my prince his gaines,

There dealt I so that time my fame to rayse,

French wryters yet my name and manhoode prayse.

And erste as _Burdet’s_ diuers warlike wights,

(In Warwickeshire theyr lands in Arrow ar)[1873]

Were, for good seruice done, made worthy knights,

Whose noble acts be yet recounted far:

Euen so my selfe, well framde to peace or war,

Of these the heyre by due discent I came,

Sir _Nicholas Burdet_ knight, which had to name.

That time the noble _Iohn_ of _Bedford_ duke bare sway,

And feared was in _Fraunce_ for courage stout and fell,

Hee lou’de mee for my fight and person, (though I say)

And with revenues mee rewarded yearely well:

I playde the faythfull subiect’s parte, the truth to tell,

And was accounted loyall, constant still

Of stomake, worship great, and warlike scill.

But then, O greefe to tell, ere long this pearelesse king,

When hee restored had his right vnto the crowne

The duchye all of Normandy, eke subiect bring

The Frenchemen all, and set lieutenants in eache towne,

High regent made of Fraunce, then fortune gan to frowne,

Hee then departed life, too soone alas:

Som men suppose his grace empoysonde was.

Thou fortune slye, what meanste thou thus, these prancks to play

False fortune blereyde blinde, vnsteady startling still,

What meanste thou turning thus thy flattering face away,

Inconstant where thou bearest most good will?

Is it thy nature then? or iste thy wonted scill?

It cost thee naught, they say it commes by kinde,

As thou art bisme, so are thine actions blinde.

10.

I nothing doubte then thou thy selfe shalt fall:

I trust to see the time when thou shalt bee forgot:

For why thy pride, and pompe and powre must vanish all,

Thy name shall dye for aye, and perish quite I wot:

And when thou shalt bee counted but a sot,

The noble wights which liude and dyde in worthy fame,

In heauen and earth shall finde an euerlasting name.

11.

But words of course are these of fortune had,

When vnto princes haps chaunce good or ill;

God sends to euery sorte these tempests sad,

When from his worde they swarue and heauenly will:

Men must endeuour then to please his goodnesse still,

And then come life, or death, come ioy, come smarte:

No fortune’s frowne can daunte the doughty harte.

12.

The famous king so dead, his son, but nyne months olde,

_Henry_ the sixt of England was proclaymed king:

And then the Frenchmen wexte more stoute and bolde,

His youth occasion gaue them to conspire the thing,

Which might them all from due subjection bring?

On which the councell calde a parliament,

Of French that might the treasons high preuent.

13.

Wherein the duke of _Bedford_, my good lorde and frend,

Was regent made, the prince his deputy in Fraunce:

The duke of _Glocester_ protectour was, to th’end

To rule in cases such at home might hap to chaunce:

They chose to garde the prince, in honour to aduaunce

_Henry Beuforde_ bishop of _Winchester_,

And _Thomas_ the noble duke of _Excester_.

14.

But here before those things coulde well be setled sure,

(As great affayres of kingdomes longer time do take)

The Frenchmen did by treason, force, and coyne, procure

Some townes which English were, in Fraunce theyr fayth forsake:

A long discourse it were of all recitall make:

But of my chaunce that time, resite will I,

Which seru’d in warres my prince in _Normandy_.

15.

Before the mount S. _Michaell_ as in seige I lay,

In confines of the _Normane’s_ and the _Breton’s_ land,

From townsemen famisht nigh we vitailes kept away,

And made them oft in daunger of dis-mounteing stand:

But it being strong and also stoutly mand,

Euen by our losses they gate harte of grasse,

And wee declineing saw what fortune was.

16.

Yet nathelesse[1874] wee thought by famine make them yeelde,

Eke they by fight or succours hoapt the seige to rayse,

T’accomplish which they rusht on sodayne out to feelde,

As bent to dy or win the wanted foode with prayse:

And wee as ready were for them at all assayes:

These eager impes whome foode, want, feazde to fight amayne,

Wee forc’d them dye, fall, fly, to take theyr forte agayne.

17.

Where I in chase pursude them euen to the towne,

Tane prisner was, a while for ransom lay:

But then the worthy duke, the regent of renowne,

Did for mee quite disburse the price requirde to pay:

The seige wee raysde, from thence wee went our way,

And I redeemed bare this blanke in minde,

Till of requite I might occasion finde.

18.

Which thus ere long befell, to this a while giue eare:

When _Arthur_ earle of _Richmond_ to S. _Iaques_ came

_De Beuuron_, where my selfe and other captaynes were,

Which had repared well and fortefide the same,

Wee made him flye, to his immortall shame:

Euen thus to him and forty thousand moe,

Fiue hundreth English gaue the ouerthroe.

19.

Long while hee battery layde agaynst the wall,

Thereby to make a breatche for them to enter in:

But well perceiuing still his shot to profite small,

And that wee weyde not of his powre a pinne,

On euery side afreshe hee did th’assault begin:

Yet wee so bare them off, and beate them downe,

They durst not seaze or enter on the towne.

20.

But wearied with the seige and sault, they pausde a while,

Consulting what were best, and so did wee likewise:

They founde the feate, they thought should surely vs beguile,

And in an euening came t’accomplish th’enterprise:

A sharp assaulte they gaue: alarme my mates, wee rise:

On both the sides they scalde, the forte to gayne,

But from the scales and walles wee flang them downe amayne.

21.

It was my charge that time to keepe a bulwarke bace,

Where _Bretons_ came along to enter by a streit:

’Twas in a bottome lowe, a pond was by the place,

By which they needes must passe vp to a posterne gate:

I meant to make them fishe the poole without a bayt,

Protesting ere they there should get the wall

Wee would as English dye, or gieue our foes the fall.

22.

The trompets sound tan tara, tan tan tara right,

The guns were shot founce-founce-founce, fomp-fum, fow-powthow,

The dromze went downe-dun-downe, the fluits fyt-fyte-fyt, fyte,

The weapons clish-clash, and the captaynes nowe-now-nowe:

With billes wee beat them downe, with shafts wee shot them throw:

The gory ground did groane, the smoky shot and cryes

Dimd all the ayre, and thundred through the scyes.

23.

S. _Denise_, cryde the French, and Bretons _glahe-lahee_,

S. _George_ the English cryde, fight-fight-fight, kill-kill-kill:

“Fight-fight,” quoth I, “come on, they flee, they flee, they flee:”

And there withall wee vsde a poynt of warlike scill,

Wee causde the men within to crye vnto vs still:

“Fight _Suffolke_, now, fight, fight, and _Salsbury_:

Fight, fight, you noble earles, the Bretons flee, they flee.”

24.

With that amazed all the Bretons gan recoyle,

Some drowned in the pond, wherin they ran for feare,

And I pursude the flight, to wrecke my captiue foyle,

Wee payde them in the chase disordred as they were,

Seuen hundred slew, tooke fifty prisners there,

Gaynde eyghteene standerds, and one banner more:

Yet I and mine, not fully were fowrescore.

25.

Of this exployt when th’earle of _Richmond_ herde,

Which gaue an hoate assault on th’other side the towne,

No lesse was hee displeasde, amazed, than afferde,

To heare the names of those two earles of high renowne,

His guilty courage quaylde, his heart was daunted downe,

Hee causde the trompets sounde retrayte away:

To scale our walles hee durst no longer stay.

26.

At midnight hee dislodgde, from seige hee made departe,

The constable of Fraunce (late earle of _Richemond_) fled,

And toward _Fougiers_ sped, with such as tooke his parte,

For haste, perhaps with feare, lest hee should lose his heade:

They left two hundred pypes of flowre and bisket bread,

Greate gunnes foureteene, three hundred pypes of wine,

Two hundred frailes of figs and raysons fine.

27.

With conquerers hands, forbathde in their owne bloud,