Poems: by Michaell Draiton Esquire

Alice Countesse of Salsbury, to the Blacke Prince.

AS one would grant; yet gladly would deny, Twixt hope and feare, I doubtfully reply; A womans weakenesse, lest I should discouer, Answering a Prince, and writing to a louer; And some say, Loue with Reason doth dispence. And wrest our plaine words to another sence: Thinke you not then, poore women had not neede Be well aduisde to write, what men should reade, When being silent moouing but awry, Giues cause of scandall and of obloquy; Whilst in our hearts, our secret thoughts abide, Th'inuenom'd tongue of slander yet is tide; But if once spoke, deliuered vp to Fame, Hers the report, but ours returnes the shame. About to write, yet newly entring in, Me thinkes I end, ere I can well begin; When I would end, then something makes me stay, And then me thinkes I should haue more to say; And some one thing remaineth in my breast, For want of words that cannot be exprest; What I would say; as said to thee I faine, Then in thy person I reply againe, Then in thy cause, vrge all I can obiect, Then what againe mine honour must respect. O Lord! what sundry passions do I trie? Striuing to hate, you forcing contrarie;

Being a Prince, I blame you not to proue, The greater reason to obtaine your loue. That greatnesse which doth challenge no deniall, The onely rest that doth allow my triall: Edward so great, the greater were his fall, And my offence in this were capitall. To men is granted priuiledge to tempt, But in that charter women be exempt: Men win vs not, except we giue consent; Against our selues, except our selues are bent. Who doth impute it is a fault to you? You proue not false, except we be vntrue; It is your vertue, being men, to try, And it is ours, by vertue to deny. Your fault it selfe, serues for the faults excuse, And makes it ours, though yours be the abuse. Beautie a beggar, fie it is too bad, When in it selfe sufficiencie is had, Not made a Lure t'entice the wandring eye, But an attire t'adorne sweete modestie, If modestie and women once do seuer, We may bid farewell to our fame for euer Let Iohn and Henry, Edwards instance be, Matilda and faire Rosamond for me: A like both woo'd, alike su'd to be wonne, Th'one by the father, th'other by the sonne; Henry obtaining, did our weakenesse wound, And laies the fault on wanton Rosamond; Matilda chaste, in life and death all one, By her deniall, l••••es the fault on Iohn; By these we proue, men accessary still,

But women only principalls of ill. What praise is ours, but what our vertues get? If they be lent, so much we be in debt, Whilst our owne honours vertue doth defend, All force too weake, what euer men pretend; If all the world else, should suborne our fame, Tis we our selues that ouerthrow the same; And howsoe're although by force you win, Yet on our weakenes still returnes the sin. A vertuous Prince who doth not Edward call? And shall I then be guiltie of your fall? Now God for bid; yet rather let me die, Then such a sin vpon my soule should lie. Where is great Edward? whither is he led? At whose victorious name whole armies fled. Is that braue spirit that conquerd so in France, Thus ouercome and vanquisht with a glance? Is that great hart that did aspire so hie, So soone transpersed with a womans eie? He that a king at Poictiers battell tooke, Himselfe led captiue with a wanton looke? Twice as a Bride to church I haue bin led, Twice haue two Lords enjoyd my Bridale bed; How can that beauty yet be vndestroyd, That yeeres haue wasted, and two men enioyd, Or should be thought fit for a Princes store, Of which two subiects were possest before? Let Spaine, let France, or Scotland so preferre Their infant Queenes; for Englands dowager, That bloud should be much more than halfe diuine, That should be equall euery way with thine:

Yet princely Edward, though I thus reproue you, As mine owne life, so deerely doe I loue you. My noble husband, which so loued you, That gentle Lord, that reuerend Mountague, Nere mothers voyce did please her babe so well, As his did mine, of you to heare him tell; I haue made short the houres that time made long, And chaind mine eares vnto his pleasing tong, My lips haue waited on your praises worth, And snatcht his words ere he could get them forth: When he hath spoke, and something by the way Hath broke off that he was about to say; I kept in minde where from his tale he fell, Calling on him the residue to tell; Oft he would say, how sweet a Prince is he! When I haue praisde him but for praising thee, And to proceede, I would intreate and wooe, And yet to ease him, help to praise thee too: Must she be forcde, t'exclaime th'iniurious wrong, Offred by him, whom she hath lou'd so long? Nay, I will tell, and I durst almost sweare, Edward will blush, when he his fault shall heare. Iudge now that time doth youths desire asswage, And reason mildely quencht the fire of rage. By vpright iustice let my cause be tride, And be thou iudge if I not iustly chide. That not my fathers graue and reuerend yeeres, When on his knee he beggd me with his teares, By no perswasions possibly could winne, To free himselfe as guiltlesse of my sinne. The woe for me my mother did abide,

Whose sute (but you) theres none would haue denide. Your lust full rage your tyranny could stay; Mine honours ruine further to delay; Haue I ot lou'd you? let the truth be showne, That still preseru'd your honour with mine owne. Had your fond will your foule desires preuailde, When you by them my chastitie assailde: Though this no way could haue excusde my fault, True vertue neuer yeelded to assault: Yet what a thing were this it should be said, My parents sin should to your charge be laide: And I haue gainde my libertie with shame, To saue my life, made ship wracke of my name. Did Roxborough once vaile her towring fane, To thy braue ensigue, on the Northerne plaine? And to thy trumpet sounding from thy tent, Often replide (as to my succor sent) And did receiue thee as my sou••raigne liege Comming to ayde, thou shouldst againe besiege, To raise a fo••, but for my treasure came To plant a foe, to take my honest name; Vnder pretence to haue remou'd the Scot, And wouldst haue won more than he could haue got; That did ingirt me ready still to flie, But thou laidst batt'ry to my chastitie: O modestie, didst thou me not restraine, How I could chide you in this angry vaine! A Princes name (heauen knowes) I doe not craue, To haue those honours Edward•• spouse should haue; Nor by ambitious lures will I be brought, In my chaste breast to harbour such a thought,

As to be worthy to be made a Bride, An Empresse place by mighty Edwards side, Of all the most vnworthy of that grace, To waite on her that should enioy that place. But if that loue Prince Edward doth require, Equall his vertues, and my chaste desire: If it be such as we may iustly vaunt, A Prince may sue for, and a Lady graunt: If it be such as may suppresse my wrong, That from your vaine vnbrideled youth hath sprong, That faith I send, that I from you receaue, The rest vnto your Princely thoughts I leaue.

¶ Notes of the Chronicle Historie.

Twice as a Bride I haue to Church beene led.

THe two husbands of which she makes mention, obiecting bi∣gamy against herselfe, as being therefore not meet to be mar∣ried with a batcheller-Prince, were sir Thomas Holland knight, & sir Willlam Montague, afterward made Earle of Salisbury.

That not my fathers graue and reuerend yeeres.

A thing incredible, that any Prince should be so vniust to vse the fathers meanes for the corruption of the daughters chastitie, though so the historie importeth, her father being so honourable, and a man of so singular desert, though Polidore would haue her thought to be Iane, the daughter to Edmund earle of Kent, vncle to Edward the third, beheaded in the Protectoriship of Mortimer, that dangerous aspirer.

And I haue gainde my libertie with shame.

Roxborough is a castle in the North, mis-termed by Bandello Salisbury castle, because the king had giuen it to the Earle of Sa∣lisbury, in which her Lorde being absent, the Countesse by the Scots was besieged, who by the comming of the English Armie were remoued. Here first the Prince saw her, whose libertie had

bin gained by her shame, had shee bin drawne by dishonest loue to satisfie his appetite, but by her most praise-worthy constancie she conuerted that humor in him to an honourable purpose, and obtained the true reward of her admired vertues.

The rest vnto your princely thoughts I leaue.

Lest any thing be left out which were woorth the relation, it shall not be impertinent to annex the opinions that are vttered, concerning her, whose name is said to haue bin Aclips, but that being rejected as a name vnknowne among vs, Froisard is rather beleeued, who calleth her Alice. Polidore contrariwise as before is declared, names her Iane, who by Prince Edward had issue, Ed∣ward dying yong, and Richard the second king of England, thogh (as he saith) she was diuorced afterwards, because within the de∣grees of consanguinitie prohibiting to many, the trueth whereof I omit to discusse, her husband the Lord Montague, being sent o∣uer into Flaunders by king Edward, was taken prisoner by the French, and not returning, left his Countesse a widow, in whose bed succeeded Prince Edward, to whose last and lawsull request the reioycesull Lady sends this louing answere.

Finis.