The battaile of Agincourt Fought by Henry the fift of that name, King of England, against the whole power of the French: vnder the raigne of their Charles the sixt, anno Dom. 1415. The miseries of Queene Margarite, the infortunate wife, of that most infortunate King Henry the sixt. Nimphidia, the court of Fayrie. The quest of Cinthia. The shepheards Sirena. The moone-calfe. Elegies vpon sundry occasions. By Michaell Drayton, Esquire.

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Title
The battaile of Agincourt Fought by Henry the fift of that name, King of England, against the whole power of the French: vnder the raigne of their Charles the sixt, anno Dom. 1415. The miseries of Queene Margarite, the infortunate wife, of that most infortunate King Henry the sixt. Nimphidia, the court of Fayrie. The quest of Cinthia. The shepheards Sirena. The moone-calfe. Elegies vpon sundry occasions. By Michaell Drayton, Esquire.
Author
Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.
Publication
London :: printed by A[ugustine]. M[athewes]. for William Lee, and are to be sold at the Turkes Head in Fleete-Streete, next to the Miter and Phænix,
1631.
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Subject terms
Margaret, -- of Anjou, Queen, consort of Henry VI, King of England, 1430-1482 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800.
Agincourt (France), Battle of, 1415 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800.
Cite this Item
"The battaile of Agincourt Fought by Henry the fift of that name, King of England, against the whole power of the French: vnder the raigne of their Charles the sixt, anno Dom. 1415. The miseries of Queene Margarite, the infortunate wife, of that most infortunate King Henry the sixt. Nimphidia, the court of Fayrie. The quest of Cinthia. The shepheards Sirena. The moone-calfe. Elegies vpon sundry occasions. By Michaell Drayton, Esquire." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A73861.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 8, 2024.

Pages

Vpon the noble Lady ASTONS departure for spaine.

I Many a time haue greatly marueil'd why, Men say their friends depart when as they die, How well that word, a dying doth expresse, I did not know (I truely must confesse,) Till her departure, for whose missed sight, I am enforc'd this Elegie to write: But since resistlesse fate will haue it so, That she from hence must to Iberia goe, And my weake wishes can her not detaine, I will of heauen in policy complaine, That it so long her trauell should adiourne, Hoping thereby to hasten her returne.
Can those of Norway for their wage procure, By their blacke spells a winde that shall endure Till from aboard the wished land men see, And fetch the harbour, where they long to e, Can they by charmes doe this, and cannot I Who am the Priest of Phaebus, and so hie; Sit in his fauour, win the Poets god, To send swift Hermes with a snaky rod, To Aeolus Caue, commanding him with care, His prosperous winds, that he for her prepare,

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And from that houre, wherein she rakes the seas, Nature bring on the quiet Halcion dayes, And in that hower that bird begin her nest, Nay at that very instant, that long rest May seize on Neptune, who may still repose, And let that bird nere till that houre disclose, Wherein she landeth, and for all that space Be not a wrinckle seene on Thetis face, Onely so much breath with a gentle gale, As by the easie swelling of her saile, May at Sebastians safely set her downe Where with her goodnes she may blesse the towne.
If heauen in iustice would haue plagu'd by thee Some Pirate, and grim Neptune thou should'st be His Executioner, or what is worse, The gripple Merchant, borne to be the curse Of this braue Iland; let them for her sake, Who to thy safeguard doth her selfe betake, Escape vndrown'd, vnwrackt, nay rather let Them be at case in some safe harbour set, Wher with much profit they may vent their wealth That they haue got by vilany and stealth, Rather, great Neptune, then when thou dost raue, Thou once should stwet her saile but with a vvaue.
Or if some proling Rouer shall but dare, To seize the ship wherein she is to fare, Let the fell fishes of the Maine appeare, And tell those Sea-thieues, that once such they were, As they are now, till they assaild to rape; Grape▪ crowned Bacchus in a striplings shape, That came aboard them, and would faine haue sayld, To vine spread Naxus, but that him they faild▪

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Which he perceiuing, them so monstrous made, And warne them how they passengers inuade.
Ye South and Westerne winds now cease to blow Atumne is come, there be no flowers to grow, Yea from that place respire, to which she goes, And to her sailes should show your selfe but foes, But Boreas and ye Esterne windes arise; To send her soone to Spaine, but be precise, That in your ayde you seeme not still so sterne, As we a Summer should no more discerne, For till that here againe, I may her see, It will be winter all the yeare with me.
Yee swan-begotten louely brother stars, So oft auspicious to poore Marriners, Yee twin-bred lights of louely Leda's brood, Ioues egge-borne issue smile vpon the flood, And in your mild'st aspect doe ye appeare To be her warrant from all future feare.
And if thou ship that bear'st her, doe proue good, May neuer time but wormes consume thy wood Nor rust thy iron, may thy tacklings last, Till they for reliques be in Temples plac't; Mayst thou be ranged with that mighty Arke, Wherein iust Noah did all the world imbarque, With that which after Troyes so famous wracke, From ten yeeres trauell brought Vlisses backe: That Argo which to Colchos went from Greece, And in her bottom brought the Golden Fleece, Vnder braue Iason; or that same of Drake, Wherein he did his famous voyage make About the World, or Candishes that went As farre as his about the Continent.

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And ye milde windes that now I doe implore, Not once to raise the least sand on the shore, Nor once on forfeit of your selues respire: When once the time is come of her retire, If then it please you, but to doe your due, What for those Winds I did, Ile doe for you: Ile wooe you then, and if that not suffice, My pen shall proue you to haue dietyes, Ile sing your loues in verses that shall flo, And tell the stories of your weale and woe, Ile proue vvhat profit to the earth you bring, And how t'is you that vvelcome in the spring, Ile raise vp altars to you, as to show, The time shalbe kept holy, when you blow, O blessed vvinds! your will that it may be, To send health to her, and her home to me.

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