The ciuile wars betweene the howses of Lancaster and Yorke corrected and continued by Samuel Daniel one of the groomes of hir Maiesties most honorable Priuie Chamber

THE FIFT BOOKE.

THE ARGVMENT.

Henry the fift cuts off his enemie, The Earle of Cambridge, that conspir'd his death. Henry the sixt (married vnluckily) His, and his Countryes glorie ruineth. Suffolke, that made the match, preferd too hie, Going to exile, a Pirat murthereth. VVhat meanes the Duke of Yorke obseru'd to gaine The worlds good-will, seeking the Crowne t'attaine.

1

CLose smothered lay the lowe depressed fire, Whose after-issuing flames confounded all, The whil'st victorious Henry did conspire The wracke of Fraunce, that at his feete did fall: Whil'st ioyes of gotten spoyles, and new desire Of greater gaine, to greater deeds did call His conquering troupes; that could no thoughts retaine, Saue thoughts of glorie, all that actiue Raigne.

2

Whome here, me thinks (as if hee did appeare, Out of the clowdy darkenes of the night) I do behold approche with Martiall cheere, And with a dreadful (and yet louely) sight: Whose eye giues courage, and whose brow hath feare; Both representing terror, and delight; And stayes my course, and off my purpose breakes, And in vp brayding words thus fiercely speakes:

3

" Vngrateful times, that impiously neglect " That worth, that neuer times againe shall shew; " What? merites all our toyle no more respect? " Or else standes Idlenesse asham'd to knowe " Those wondrous Actions, that do so obiect " Blame to the wanton, sinne vnto the slowe? " Can England see the best, that she can boast, " Lie thus vngrac't, vndeckt and almost lost?

4

" Why do you seeke for fained Palladines " (Out of the smoke of idle vanitie) " Who may giue glory to the true designes, " Of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 chier, Talbot, Neuile, Willoughby? " Why should not you striue to fill vp your lines, " With wonders of your owne, with veritie? " T'inflame their ofspring with the loue of good, " And glorious true examples of their Blood.

5

" What euerlasting matter here is found, " Whence new immortall Iliads might proceed! " That those, whose happie graces do abound " In blessed accents, here may haue to feed " Good thoughts, on no imaginarie ground " Of hungry shadowes, which no profite breed; " Whence, musicke-like, instant delight may growe; " Yet, when men all do knowe, they nothing knowe.

6

" And why dost thou, in lamentable verse, " Nothing but blood-shed, treasons, sinne and shame, " The worst of times, th'extreame of ills, rehearse; " To rayse olde staynes, and to renew dead blame? " As if the mindes of th'euill, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, " Were not farre sooner trained from the same, " By good example of faire vertuous acts, " Then by the shew of foul vngodly facts.

7

" Would God, our times had had some sacred wight, " Whose words as happy as our swords had bin, " To haue prepar'd for vs Tropheis aright, " Of vnde caying frames t'haue rested in; " Triumphant Arks, of perdurable might, " O holy lines! that such aduantage win " Vpon the Sieth of Time, in spight of yeares. " How blessed they, who gaine what neuer weares!

8

" For, what is it to do, if what we do " Shall perish neere as soone as it is donne? " What is that glory wee attaine vnto " With all our toyle, if lost as soone as wonne? " A small requitall, for so great adoo, " Is this poore present breath, a smoake soone gone; " Or these dumb stones, erected for our sake: " Which, formless heapes few stormy changes make.

9

" Tell great ELIZA (since her dayes are grac't, " With those bright ornaments, to vs deni'd) " That sherepaire what darknesse hath defac't, " And get our ruyn'd deedes, reedifi'd: " She in whose all-directing eye is plac't " A powre, the highest powers of wit to guide; " Shee may command the worke, and ouer-see " The holy frame, that might eternall bee.

10

For, would Shee be content, that Time should make A 〈◊〉〈◊〉 prey, vpon her glorious Raigne; That Darkenesse, and the Night, should ouertake So cleare a Brightnesse, shining without staine? Ah! no: She fosters some (no doubt) that wake For her eternitie, with pleasing paine. And if shee, for her selfe, prepare this good; Let her not so neglect those of her Blood.

11

This, that great Monarch, Henrie, seem'd to craue; When (weighing what a holy motiue here Vertue propos'd, and fit for him to haue, Whom all times ought of dutie hold most deare) I sigh't, and wisht that some would take t'ingraue, With curious hand, so proud a worke to reare (To grace the present, and to blesse times past) That might, for euer, to our glorie last.

12

So should our well-taught times haue learn'd alike, How faire shin'd Virtue, and how foul Vice stood; When now my selfe am driuen to mislike Those deedes of worth, I dare not vow for good: I cannot mone who lose, nor prayse who seeke By mightie Actions here t'aduance their Blood. I must say, Who wrought most, least honor had: How euer good the Cause, the deedes were bad.

13

And onely tell the worst of euerie Raigne; And not the intermedled good report. I leaue, what glorie Virtue did attaine At th'euer-memorable Agincort: I leaue to tell, what wit, what power did gaine Th'assieged Roan, Caen, Dreux; or in what sort: How Maiestie, with terror, did aduance Her conquering foote, on all subdued Fraunce.

14

All this I passe, and that magnanimous King, Mirror of vertue, miracle of worth; Whose mighty Actions, with wise managing, Forc't prouder boasting Climes to serue the North. The best of all the best, the earth can bring, Scarce equals him, in what his Raigne brought foorth; Being of a minde, as forward to aspire, As fit to gouerne what he did desire.

15

His comely body was a goodly seate, Where Virtue dwelt most faire; as lodg'd most pure: A body strong; where vse of strength did get A stronger state to do, and to endure: His life he makes th'example, to beget Like spirit in those, he did to good inure; And gaue, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, such life, and liuelihood, As if hee Greatnes sought, but to do good.

16

Hee as the Chiefe, and all-directing head, Did with his subiects, as his members, liue; And them to goodnesse forced not but led; Winning, not much to haue, but much to giue (Deeming, the powre of his, his powr did spread) As borne to blesse the world, and not to grieue; Adorn'd with others spoyles, not subiects store: No King, exacting lesse; none, winning more.

17

Hee, after that corrupted faith had bred An ill inur'd obedience for Command; And languishing luxutiousnes had spred Weyward vnaptnesse ouer all the Land; Those long vnordred 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so marshalled, Vnder such formall discipline to stand, That euen his soule seem'd onely to direct So great a body, such exployts t'effect.

18

He brings abrode distracted Discontent, Disperst ill humors into actions hie; And, to vnite them all in one consent, Plac't the faire marke of glorie in their eye; That, Malice had no leasure to dissent, Nor Enuie time to practise treacherie: The present actions do diuert the thought Of madnesse past, while mindes were so well wrought.

19

Here now were Pride, Oppression, Vsurie (The canker-eating mischiefes of the State) Call'd foorth to prey vpon the enemie; Whil'st the home-burth'ned, better lightned sate: Exactors did not, with a greedy eye, Examine states, or priuate riches rate: The silent Courts warr'd not, with busie words; Nor wrested law gaue the contentious, swords.

20

Now, nothing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 th'attentiue 〈◊〉〈◊〉, But stratagems, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, surprises, fightes; How to giue lawes to them that conquered were, How to articulate with yeelding wightes: The weake with mercie, and the proud with feare, How to retaine; to giue deserts their rights, Were now the Artes: and nothing else was thought, But how to win, and maintaine what was got.

21

Nor here were any priuately possest Or held alone imprisoned Maiestie, Proudly debarring entraunce 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the rest; As if the prey were theirs, by victorie. Here, no detractor woundes who merits best; Nor shameless brow cheeres-on impietie. Vertue, who all her toyle with zeale had spent, Not here, all vnrewarded, sighing went.

22

But, here, the equally-respecting eye Of Powre, looking alike on like deserts, Blessing the good, made others good thereby; More mightie, by the multitude of hearts. The fielde of glorie, vnto all doth lie Open alike; honour, to all imparts. So that the onely fashion in request, Was, to be good, or good-like, as the rest.

23

So much, ô thou Example, dost effect (Being farre a better Maister, then Command) That, how to do, by doing dost direct, And teachest others action, by thy hand. " Who followes not the course, that kings elect? " When Princes worke, who then wil idle stand? " And, when that dooing good is onely thought " Worthy reward; who will be bad for nought?

24

And had not th'Earle of Cambridge, with vaine speed, Vntimely practiz'd for an others right, With hope to aduance those of his proper seed (On whome the Rule seem'd destined to light) The Land had seene none of her owne to bleed, During this Raigne, nor no aggreeued sight; None the least blacknesse inter clouded had So faire a day, nor any eye lookt sad.

25

But now, when Fraunce perceiued (from afarre) The gathering tempest, growing-on from hence, Ready to fall, threatning their State to marre, They labour all meanes to prouide defence: And, practising how to preuent this warre, And shut-out such calamities from thence, Do foster, here, some discord lately growne; To hold Ambition busied, with her owne.

26

Finding those humors which they saw were fit Soone to be wrought, and easie to befed, Swolne full with enuie, that the Crowne should sit There where it did (as if established) And whom it toucht in Blood, to grieue at it; They with such hopes and helps sollicited, That this great Earle was drawne t'attempt the thing, And practiseth how to depose the King.

27

For, being of mightie meanes to do the deed; And yet of mightier hopes, then meanes to do: And yet of spirit, that did his hopes exceed; And then of Blood as great, to adde thereto: All these, with what the gold of France could breed (Being powers enow a clyming minde to woo) He so imploy'd, that many he had wonne, Euen of the chiefe the King reli'd vpon.

28

The well-knowne right of th' Earle of March allur'd A leaning loue: whose Cause he did pretend. Whereby, he knew that so himselfe procur'd The Crowne for his owne children, in the ende. For, the Earle beeing (as hee was assur'd) Vnapt for issue, it must needes descend On those of his, being next of Clarence race; As who, by course of right, should hold the place.

29

It was the time, when-as the forward Prince Had all prepar'd for his great enterprize; And ready stand his troupes to part from hence, And all in stately forme and order lyes, When open Fame giues out intelligence Of these bad complots of his enemies: Or else, this time (of purpose) chosen is: Though knowne before; yet let run-on, till this.

30

That this might yeeld the more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 aggrauate Vpon so foul a deed vntimely sought, Now at this point, t'attempt to ruinate So glorious a designe so forward brought, Whil'st careful Virtue seekes t'aduance the State, And for her euerlasting honor sought: That though the Cause seem'd right, and title strong; The time 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dooing it, yet makes it wrong.

31

But, straight, an vnlamented death he had: And straight were ioyfully the Anchors weighd: And all flocke fast aboord, with visage glad; As if the sacrifice had now beene payd, For their good speed; that made 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stay so sad, Loathing the least occasion that delayd. And, now new thoughts, great hopes, calme seas, fair windes, With present action intertaine their mindes.

32

No other crosse, ô Henry, saw thy dayes But this, that toucht thy now possessed hold; Nor after, long, till this mans sonne assayes To get, of thine, the right that he controll'd: For which, contending long, his life he payes. So that, it fatal seem'd the father should Thy winning seeke to stay, and then his sonne Should be the cause to lose, when thou hadst won.

33

Yet now in this so happy a meane-while, And interlightning times, thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wrought, That Discord had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 leasure to defile So faire attempts with a tumultuous thought: And euen thy selfe, thy selfe didst so beguile With such attention vpon what was sought, That time 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not now with feare or hate Others to seeke, thee to secure thy State.

34

Or else, how easie had it beene, for thee, All the pretendant race t'haue layd full lowe? If thou proceeded hadst with crueltie, Not suffering any fatall branch to growe: But, vnsuspicious Magnanimitie Shames such effectes of feare, and force, to showe; Busied in free, and open Actions still Being great: for, being good, hates to be ill.

35

And yet, such wrongs are held meete to be done, And often for the State thought requisite: As, when the publike good depends thereon, When great iniustice is esteem'd great right: But yet, what good with doing ill is won? Who hath of blood made such a benefite, As hath not fear'd, more after then before, And made his peace the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, his plague the more?

36

Farre otherwise dealt this vndaunted King, That cherished the ofspring of his foes; And his Competitors to grace did bring: And them, his friendes for Armes, and honors, chose; As if plaine courses were the safest thing, Where vpright goodnesse, sure, and stedfast goes, Free from that subtile maskt impietie, Which this depraued world calles policie.

37

Yet, how hath Fate dispos'd of all this good? What haue these Virtues after 〈◊〉〈◊〉 auail'd? In what stead hath hy-raised Valour stood, When this continuing cause of Greatnes fail'd? Then, when proud-growne, the irritated blood, Enduring not it selfe, it selfe 〈◊〉〈◊〉; As though that Prowesse had but learnd to spill Much blood abrode, to cut her throat with skill

38

How doth th'Eternall, in the course of things, Immix the causes both of Good and Ill? That thus the one, effects of th'other brings: As what seemes made to blisse, is borne to spill? What? from the best of Virtues glorie, springs That, which the world with miserie doth fill? Is th'end of happinesse, but wretchednesse? Hath Sinne his plague, and Virtue no successe?

39

Either that is not good, the world holdes good: Or else is so confus'd with ill; that we (Abused with th'appearing likelihood) Run to offend, whil'st we thinke good to bee: Or else the heauens made man (in furious blood) To torture man; Allotting no course free From mischiefe long: Sending faire dayes that breed But stormes; to make, more foul, times that succeed.

40

Who would haue thought, that so great victories, Such conquests, riches, Land, and Kingdome gain'd, Could not but haue establisht in such wise This powrefull state, in state to haue remain'd? Who would haue thought, that Mischiefe could deuise A way, so soone to lose what was attain'd? As if powre were but shew'd to grieue, not grace; And to reduce vs into farre worse case.

41

With what contagion, Fraunce, didst thou infect This Land, by thee made proud, to disagree? T'inrage them so, their owne swordes to direct Vpon them-selues, that were made sharp in thee? Why didst thou teach them, here at homet'erect Trophees of their blood, which of thine should bee? Or was the date of thine affliction out, And so (by course) was ours to come about?

42

But, that vntimely death of this great King, Whose nine yeeres Raigne so mightie wonders wrought, To thee thy hopes; to vs despaire did bring; Not long to keepe, and gouerne, what was got: For, those that had th'affayres in managing, Although their Countries good they greatly sought; Yet, so ill accidentes vofitly fell, That their dessignes could hardly prosper wel.

43

An infant King doth in the State succeed, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 one yeere old, left vnto others guide: Whose 〈◊〉〈◊〉 trust, though such as shew'd indeed, They weigh'd their charge more then the world beside, And did with dutie, zeale, and loue proceed; Yet (for all what their trauaile could prouide) Could not woo Fortune, to remaine with vs, When this her Minion was departed thus:

44

But, by degrees first this, then that, regain'd, The turning tide beares backe, with flowing chaunce Vnto the Dolphin, all we had attain'd, And filles the late lowe-running hopes of Fraunce; When Bedford (who our onely hold maintain'd) Death takes from vs, their fortune to aduance: And then home-strife (that on it selfe did fall) Neglecting forraine care, did soone lose all.

45

Neere three score yeeres are past since Bulling brooke Did first attaine (God knowes how iust) the Crowne: And now his race, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 right possessors tooke, Were held of all, to hold nought but their owne: When Richard, Duke of Yorke, begins to looke Into their right, and makes his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 knowne; Wakening-vp sleeping Right (that lay as dead) To 〈◊〉〈◊〉, how his race was 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

46

His fathers end, in him, no feare could moue T'attempt the like, against the like of might; Where long possession now of feare, and loue, Seem'd to prescribe euen an innated Right. So that, To proue his state, was to disproue Time, law, consent, oath, and allegeance quight: And no way, but the way of blood there was, Through which, with all confusion hee must passe.

47

And how much better for him, had it beene, T'indure a wrong with peace, then with such toyle " T'obtaine a bloody Right? since Right is sinne, " That is ill sought, and purchased with spoyle. But, this so wretched state are Kingdomes in, Where one mans Cause, shall all the rest imbroyle: And oft, t'aduance a Tyran to a Crowne, Men runt' vndoo the State, that is their owne.

48

And yet that opportunitie, which led Him to attempt, seeme 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him t'excuse: A seeble spirited King that gouerned, (Who ill could guide the Scepter he did vse) His enemies (that his worth maliced; Who, both the Land, and him, did much abuse) The peoples loue, and his apparant Right, May seeme sufficient motiues to incite.

49

Besides; the now ripe wrath (deferd till now) Of that sure and vnsayling Iusticer, That neuers suffers wrong so long to growe, And to incorporate with right so farre, As it might come to seeme the same in showe (T'incourage those that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 minded are By such successe) but that at last he will Confound the branch, whose root was planted ill.

50

Else, might the impious say (with grudging spight) Doth God permit the Great to riot free, And blesse the mightie though they do vnright, As if he did vnto their wrongs agree? And onely plague the weake and wretched wight, For smallest faults, euen in the high'st degree? When he, but vsing them for others scourge, Likewise of them at lēgth the world doth purge.

51

But could not yet, for blood-shed, satisfie The now well-ruling of th'ill-gotten Crowne? Must euen the good receiue the penaltie Of former sinnes, that neuer were their owne? And must a iust Kings blood, with miserie Pay for a bad, vniustly ouerthrowne? Well; then wee see, Right in his course must goe: And men, t'escape from blood, must keepe it so.

52

And, sure, this King, that now the Crowne possest (Henrie the sixt) was one, whose life was free From that command of vice, whereto the rest Of most these mightie Soueraignes subiects bee; And numbred might haue beene, among the best Of other men, if not of that degree: A right good man, but yet an euill King; Vnfit for what hee had in managing.

53

Of humble spirite, of nature continent: No thought t'increase he had; scarce keep his owne: For pard'ning apter, then for punishment, He chokes his powre, to haue his bountie knowne. Farre from reuenge, soone wonne, soone made content; As fitter for a Cloyster then a Crowne: Whose holy minde so much addicted is On th'world to-come, that he neglecteth this.

54

With such a weake-good, feeble-godly King, Hath Richard, Duke of Yorke, his Cause to trie: Who, by th'experience of long managing The warres of Fraunce, with supreame dignitie; And by his owne great worth, with furthering The common good against the enemie, Had wrought, that zeale and loue attend his might, And made his spirit equall vnto his Right.

55

For, now the Duke of Bedford beeing dead, He is ordain'd the Regent to succeed In Fraunce for fiue yeeres: where, he trauayled With ready hand, and with as carefull heed, To seeke to turne backe Fortune (that now fled) And hold vp falling power, in time of need: And got and lost, and reattaines (againe) That which againe was lost, for all his paine.

56

His time expir'd, he should for fiue yeeres more Haue had his charge prolongd: but Sommerset (That still had enui'd his command before) That place, and honor, for himselfe did get: Which ads that matter to th'already store Of kindled hate, which such a fire doth set Vnto the touch of a confounding flame, As both their bloods could neuer quench the same.

57

And now the weakenesse of that feeble Head (That doth neglect all care, but his soules care) So easie meanes of practice ministred, Vnto th'ambitious members, to prepare Their owne desires, to what their humors led; That all good actions coldly followed are, And sev'rall-tending hopes do wholly bend To other now, then to the publique end.

58

And, to draw-on more speedy miserie, The King vnto a fatall match is led With Rayners daughter, King of Sicilie; Whom, with vnlucky starres, he married: For, by the meanes of this affimtie, Was lost all that his father conquered; Euen as if France had some Erynnis sent T'auenge their wrongs, done by the insolent.

59

This marriage was the Earle of Suffolkes deed, With great rewardes won to effect the same: Which made him that hee tooke so little heed Vnto his Countries good, or his owne shame; It beeing a match could stand vs in no steed For strength, for wealth, for reputation, fame: But cunningly contriv'd for others gaine; And cost vs more, then Aniou, Mauns, and Maine.

60

And yet (as if he had accomplished Some mightie benefit vnto the Land) He got his trauailes to be registred In Parlement, for euermore to stand A witnes to approue all what he did: To th'end, that, if hereafter it were scand, Authoritie might yet be on his side; As doing nought but what was ratifi'd:

61

Imagining, th'allowance of that Place Would make that good, the which he knew was naught; And so would his negotiation grace, As none might think it was his priuate fault. Wherein, though wit dealt wary in this case; Yet, in the end, it selfe it ouer-raught. Striuing to hide, he opened it the more; His after-care, shew'd craft had gone before.

62

Deare didst thou buy, ô King, so faire a Wife, So rare a spirit, so high a minde, the-while: Whose 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was destruction; dowry, strise: Whose bed was sorrow; whose embracing, spoyle: Whose maintenance cost thee and thine, their life; And whose best comfort, neuer was but toyle. What Paris brought this booty of desire, To set our mightie Ilium here on fire?

63

I grieue, I should be forc't to say thus much, To blame her, whom I yet must wonder at; Whose so sweete beautie, wit, and worth, were such, As (though she Fortune lost) she glory gat: Yet doth my Countries zeale so neerely touch, That here my Muse it doth exasperate; Although vnwilling, that my pen should giue Staine to that sex, by whom her fame doth liue.

64

For, sure, those virtues well deserv'd a Crowne. And, had it not beene ours, no doubt she might Haue beene among the Worthies of renowne, And now sat faire with fame, with glorie bright: But, comming in the way where sinne was growne So foule and thicke, it was her chaunce to light Amidst the grosse infection of those times; And so came stain'd with black disgrace-full crimes.

65

For, some the world must haue, on whom to lay The heauie burthen of reproche and blame; Against whose deedes, th'afflicted may inuay, As th'onely Authors, whence destruction came: When yet, perhaps, 'twas not in them to stay The current of that streame, nor help the same; But, liuing in the eye of Action so, Not hindring it, are thought to draw-on wo.

66

So much vnhappie do the Mightie stand, Who stand on other then their owne defence, When-as destruction is so neere at hand, That if by weakenesse, folly, negligence, They do not coming miserie withstand, They shall be deemed th'authors of th'offence, And to call in, that which they kept not out; And curst, as they who brought those plagues about.

67

And so remaine for euer rigistred In that eternall booke of Infamie; When yet how many other causes led As well to that, as their iniquitie? The worst complots oft lie close smothered: And well-meant deedes fall out vnluckily; Whil'st the aggrieu'd stand not to waigh th'intent; But euer iudge according to th'euent.

68

I say not this t'excuse thy Sinne, ô Queene, Nor cleare their faults who mightie Actors are: I cannot but affirme, thy pride hath been A speciall meanes this Common-wealth to marre: And that thy weyward will was plainely seene, In vaine ambition, to presume too farre; And that, by thee, the onely way was wrought The Duke of Gloster to his death was brought:

69

A man, though seeming in thy thought to sit Betweene the light of thy desires and thee; Yet did his taking thence plainely permit Others to looke to that they could not see During his life, nor would aduenture it: When his Remoue quite made that passage free; That, by his fall, thinking to stand alone, Thou scarce could'st stand at all, when he was gone.

70

For, this Duke (as Protector) many yeeres, Had rul'd the Land, during the Kings young age; And now the selfe same charge and title beares, As if hee still were in his pupillage: Which, such disgrace vnto the Queene appeares, That (all incenst, with an ambitious rage) Shee doth conspire to haue him made-away; As one, that stayd the Current of her sway:

71

Thrust thereinto, not onely with her pride; But, by her fathers counsell and consent: Who griev'd likewise, that any one beside, Should haue the honor of the gouernment: And, therefore, he such deepe aduice appli'd, As forraine craft and cunning could inuent, To circumuent an vnsuspecting wight, Before he should discerne of their despight.

72

And many ready hands shee straight doth finde, To ayde her deed, of such as could not brooke The length of one mans office, in that kind; Who, all th'especiall Charges vnder-tooke, Rul'd all, himselfe: and neuer had the minde T'impart a part with others; who would looke To haue likewise some honor in their hands, And griev'd at such ingrossing of Commands.

73

For, had he not had such a greedy loue To intertaine his Offices too long, Enuie had beene vnable to reproue His acted life, vnless shee did him wrong: But, hauing liv'd, so many yeeres, aboue, He grieues now to descend, to belesse strong, And kils that fame that virtue did beget; Chose to be held lesse good, then seene lesse great.

74

" For, could the mightie but giue bounds to pride, " And weigh backe Fortune, ere shee pull Them downe; " Contented with inough, with honors satisfi'd, " Not striuing how to make so much their owne, " As to leaue nothing for the rest beside, " Who seeme by their high-spreading ouer-growne " (Whil'st they themselues remaine in all mens sight, " The odious marke of hatred and despight)

75

" Then neuer should so many tragedies " Burthen our knowledge, with their bloody end: " Nor their disgrac't confounded families, " From so high pride, to solowe shame descend; " But, planted on that ground where safetie lyes, " Their braunches should to eternitie extend: " But euer, they, who ouer-looke so much, " Will ouer-see themselues; their state is such.

76

Seuere he was, and strictly did obserue Due forme of Iustice towards euery wight; Vnmoueable, and neuer won to swerue For any cause, in what he thought was right: Wherein, although he did so well deserue; In the licentious, yet, it bred despight: " So that euen Virtue seemes an Actor too, " To ruine those, Fortune prepares t'vndoo.

77

Now, such, being forward, who (the Queene well knewe) Hated his might, and glad to innouate; Vnto so great, and strong a partie grew, As it was easie to subuert his State: And onely hope of alteration drew Many to yeeld, that had no cause to hate. " For, euen with goodnesse men growe discontent, " Where States are ripe to fall, and virtue spent.

78

And, taking all the Rule into her hand (Vnder the shadow of that feeble King) The Duke sh'excludes from Office and Command, And in the reach of enmitie doth bring, From that respected height where he did stand (When malice scarce durst mutter any thing): And now the worst of him comes all reueal'd, Which former feare, or rigor kept conceal'd.

79

Now is he taxed, that he rather sought His priuate profit, then the publique good; And many things presumptuously had wrought; Other, then with our lawes, and customes stood: As one, that would into the Land haue brought The Ciuile forme, in cases touching blood; And such poore Crimes: that shew'd, their spight was soūd; But yet be wrayde, their matter wanted ground.

80

Yet serv'd they well the turne, and did effect That which is easie wrought in such a case: Where, what suborned Iustice shal obiect, Is to the purpose, and must passe with grace; And what the wretched bring, of no effect: Whose haynous faultes his matter must deface. " For, where Powre hath decreed to finde th'offence, " The Cause is better still, then the defence.

81

A Parlement, at Berry summoned, Dispatcht the deed, more speedily then well. For, thither came the Duke without all dread, Or oughtimagining of what befell: Where, now the matter is so followed, That he conuented is, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he could tell He was in danger, or had done offence; And presently to prison sent, from thence.

82

Which quicke, and so daine action gaue not time For men to waigh the iustice of the deed; Whil'st looking onely on the vrged crime, Vnto the farther drist they take no heed. For, these occasions taken in the prime Of courses new, that old dislikes succeed, Leaue not behind that feeling touch of wrong. Satietie makes passions still lesse strong.

83

And yet they seem'd some mutinie to doubt, For thus proceeding with a man of might; Consid'ring hee was popular and stout, And resolute would stand vpon his Right: And therefore did they cast this way about, To haue him closely murdred out of sight; That so, his trouble, and his death hereby, Might come togither, and togither die:

84

Reckning it better, since his end is ment, And must be wrought, at once to rid it cleere, And put it to the fortune of th'euent; Then by long doing, to be long in feare: When, in such courses of high punishment, The deed, and the attempt, like daunger beare: And oft, things done (perhaps) do lesse annoy, Then may the doing, handled with delay.

85

And, so, they had it straight accomplished. For, next day after his commitment, he Is dead brought forth; being found so in his bed: Which was by sodaine sickenesse sayd to bee, That had vpon his sorrowes newly bred; As by apparant tokens men might see. And thus ô Sickenesse, thou art oft beli'd; When death hath many wayes to come, beside.

86

Are these the deedes, high forraine wittes inuent? Is this that Wisedome whereof they so boast? Well; then I would it neuer had beene spent Heere, amongst vs, nor brought from out their coast: Let their vile cunning, in their limits pent, Remaine amongst themselues, that like it most: And let the North (they count of colder blood) Be held more grosle, so it remaine more good.

87

Let them haue fairer citties, goodlier soyles, And sweeter fieldes, for beautie to the eye, So long as they haue these vn godly wyles, Such detestable vile impietie: And let vs want their Vines, their Fruites the-whyles, So that wee want not fayth and honestie: We care not for those pleasures; so we may Haue better hearts, and stronger hands then they.

88

Neptune, keepe-out, from thy imbraced Ile, This foul contagion of iniquitie: Drowne all corruptions, coming to defile Our faire proceedings ordred formally: Keepe vs meere English: let not craft be guile Honor and Iustice, with strange subtilties Let vs not thinke, how that our good can frame, Which ruin'd hath the Authors of the same.

89

But, by this impious meanes, that worthy man Is brought vnto this lamentable end. And, now, that Current with maine furie ran (The stop remov'd, that did the course defend) Vnto the full of mischiefe, that began T'a vniuersall ruine to extend; That Isthmus fayling, which the Land did keep, From the intire possession of the Deepe.

90

And now the King, alone, all open lay; No vnder prop of Blood, to stay him by. None, but h mselfe stands weakely in the way Twixt Yorke, and the affected sov'〈◊〉〈◊〉: Gone is that barre, that would haue beene the stay T'haue kept him backe, from mounting vp so hie. " But see (ah!) see: What state stand these men in, " That cannot 〈◊〉〈◊〉 without, nor with their kin?

91

The Queene hath yet, by this, her full desire; And now she with her Minion, Suffolke, raigns: Now she hath hath all authoritie intire; And all 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vnto her selfe retains: And onely Suffolke is a luaunced 〈◊〉〈◊〉, He is the man rewarded, for his pains; He, that did her in stead most chiefly stand; And more aduanc't her, then hee did the Land.

92

Which when they saw, who better did expect, Then they began their error to 〈◊〉〈◊〉; And well perceiue, that onely the defect Was in their iudgements, passion-drawne awry; Found, formall rigor fitter to direct, Then pride and insolent inconstancie. " Better seueritie, that's right and iust, " Then impotent affections, led with lust.

93

And thereupon, in sorrow thus complaine; " What wondrous inconuenience do they feele, " Where as such imbecillitie doth raigne, " As so neglects the care of Common-weale? " Where, euer one or other doth obtaine " So high a grace thus absolute to deale; " The-whilst th'aggreeued subiect suffers, stil, " The pride of some predominating will?

94

" And euer, one remov'd, a worse succeedes: " So that the best, that we can hope, is Warre, " Tumults, and stirres, that this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 breedes: " The sword must 〈◊〉〈◊〉, what Insolence doth 〈◊〉〈◊〉. " For, what rebellions, and what bloody deedes, " Haue euer followed, where such courses are? " What oft-remoues? what death of Counsailers? " What murder? what exile of Officers?

95

" Witnesse the Spencers, Gauestone, and Uere, " The mighty Minions of our feeblest Kings; " Who euer Subiects to their subiects were, " And onely the procurers of these things: " When worthy Monarchs, that hold honour deare, " Maister themselues, and theirs; vvhich euer brings " That vniuersall reuerence, and respect. " For, who waighes him, that doth himselfe neglect?

96

" And yet our case is like to be farre worse; " Hauing a King, though not so bent to ill, " Yet so neglecting good, that giuing force " By giuing leaue, doth all good order kill; " Suffring a violent Woman take her course, " To manage all, according to her will: " Which, how she doth begin, her deedes expresse; " And, what will be the end, our selues may ghesse.

97

Which after followed, euen as they did dread, When now the shamefull losse of Fraunce, much grieues: Which vnto Suffolke is attributed; As who in all mens sight most hatefull liues: And is accus'd, that he (with lucre led). Betraies the State, and secret knowledge giues Of our designes; and, all that we did hold, By his corruption, is or lost, or sold.

98

And, as hee deales abroad, so likewise here, He robs at home, the Treasurie no lesse; Here, where he all authorities doth beare, And makes a Monopoly of Offices: He is inricht, His rais'd, and placed neare; And onely he, giues counsaile to oppresse: Thus men obiect, whil'st many, vp in Armes, Offer to be reuenged of these harmes.

99

The Queene, perceiuing in what case she stoode To lose her Minion, or ingage her State; (After with long contention in her blood, Loue and Ambition, did the Cause debate) Shee yields to Pride: and rather thought it good, To sacrifice her Loue vnto their hate; Then to aduenture else the losse of all: Which (by maintaining him) was like to fall.

100

Yet, seeking at the first to temporize, Shee tries if that some short Imprisonment Would calme their heat: when that would not suffize, Then to exile him she must needs consent; Hoping, that time would salue it in such wise, As yet at length they might become content, And shee againe, might haue him home at last, When this first furie of their rage was past.

101

But, as he to his iudged exile went, Hard on the shore he comes incountered By some, that so farre off his Honour sent, As put his backe-returne quite out of dread: For, there he had his rightfull punishment, Though wrongly done; and there he lost his head: Part of his blood hath Neptune, part the Sand; As who had mischiefe wrought by sea and land.

102

Whose death, when swift-wingd Fame at full conuaid To this disturbed Queene, misdoubting nought; Despight, and Sorrow such affliction laid Vpon her soule, as wondrous passions wrought. " And art thou Suffolke, thus, said she, betraid? " And haue my fauours thy destruction brought? " Is this their gaine, whom Highnesse fauoureth, " Who chiefe preferd, stand as preferd to death?

103

" O fatall grace! without which, men complaine, " And with it perish; what preuailes that we " Must weare the Crowne, and other men must raigne, " And cannot stand to be, that which we be? " Must our owne Subiects limit and constraine " Our fauours, wher-as they themselues decree? " Must we, our loue, at their appointment, place? " Do we commaund, and they direct our grace 〈◊〉〈◊〉

104

" Must they our powre, thus from our will, diuide? " And haue wee might, but must not vse our might? " Poore Maiestie, which other men must guide; " Whose discontent can neuer looke aright: " For, euer-more wee see those who abide " Graciousin ours, are odious in their sight, " Who would all-maistring Maiestie defeat " Of her best grace; that is, to make men Great.

105

" But, well; We see, although the King be Head, " The State will be the Heart. This Soueraigntie " Is but in place, not powre; and gouerned " By th'equall Scepter of Necessitie. " And we haue seene more Princes ruined, " By 〈◊〉〈◊〉 imoderat fauouring priuatly, " Then by seuerity in generall. " For, best h'is lik't, that is alike to all.

106

Thus stormes this Lady, all disquieted; When-as farre greater tumults now burst out: Which close and cunningly were practiced, By such, as sought great hopes to bring about. For, vp in Armes in Kent were gathered A mighty insolent rebellious rout, Vnder a dangerous Head; who, to deterr The State the more, himselfe nam'd Mortimer.

107

The Duke of Yorke, that did not idle stand (But seekes to worke on all aduantages) Had like wise in this course a secret hand, And hartned on their chiefest complices; To try how here the people of the Land Would (if occasion serv'd) b'in readiness To aide that Line, if one should come in deed To moue his Right, and in due course proceed;

108

Knowing himselfe to be the onely one, That must attempt the thing, if any should: And therefore, lets the Rebell now run-on With that false Name, t'effect the best he could; To make a way for him to worke vpon, Who but on certaine ground aduenture would. For, if the Traitor sped, the gaine were his; If not, yet he stands safe, and blamelesse is.

109

T'attempt' with others dangers, not his owne, He counts it wisedome, if it could be wrought: And t'haue the humour of the people knowne, Was now that, which was chiefely to be sought. For, with the best, he knew himselfe was growne In such account, as made him take no thought; Hauing observ'd, in those he meant to proue, Their wit, their wealth, their cariage, and their loue.

110

With whome, and with his owne alliances, He first begins to open (in some wise) The Right he had; yet, with such doubtfulnes, As rather sorrow, then his drift descries: Complayning of his Countries wretchednes, In what a miserable case it lies; And how much it imports them to prouide For their defence, against this womans pride.

111

Then, with the discontented he doth deale, In sounding theirs, not vttering his intent; As be'ing aduis'd, not so much to reueale, Whereby they might be made againe content: But, when they grieued for the Common-weale, He doth perswade them to be patient, And to indure; there was no other course: Yet, so perswades, as makes their malice worse.

112

And then, with such as with the time did run, In most vpright opinion he doth stand; As one, that neuer crost what they begun, But seem'd to like that which they tooke in hand: Seeking all causes of offence to shun, Prayses the Rule, and blames th'vnruly Land; Works so with gifts, and kindely offices, That, euen of them, he serues his turne no lesse.

113

Then, as for those, who were his followers (Being all choyce men for virtues, or desearts) He so with grace, and benefits prefers, That he becomes the Monarch of their hearts. He gets the learned, for his Counsaylers; And cherishes all men of rarest parts: " To whom, good done, doth an impressiō strike " Of ioy and loue, in all that are alike.

114

And now, by meanes of th'intermitted warre, Many most valiant men, impov'rished, Onely by him fed and relieued are; Onely respected, grac't, and honoured. Which let him in, vnto their hearts so farre, As they by him were wholly to be led. " He onely treads the sure and perfect path " To Greatnesse, who loue and opinion hath.

115

And, to haue one some certaine Prouince his, As the maine body that must worke the feate, Yorkeshire he chose, the place wherein he is By title, liuings, and possessions great. No Country hee preferres, so much as this: Here, hath his Bountie, her abiding seat: Here, is his Iustice, and relieuing hand, Ready to all, that in distresse do stand.

116

What with his tenants, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, followers, friends, And their alliances, and amities, All that Shire vniuersally attends His hand, held vp to any enterprize. And thus farre, Virtue with her power extends: The rest, touching th'euent, in Fortune lies. With which accomplements, so mightie growne, Forward he tends, with hope t'attaine a Crowne.

The ende of the fift Booke.

Notes

• Henry 〈◊〉〈◊〉. began 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 20 of March. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 1412
• The Courtes of Iu∣stice.
• — 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tolerare labores; Non 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• Richard E. of Cam∣bridge the second sonne to Edmond 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Duke of Yorke, maried 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Roger 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Earle of March, descended from Li∣onell D. of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the third sonne to K Ed. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. by whose right 'Richard D. of Yorke sonne to this E. of Cambridge, af∣terwards aymed the Crowne.
• The E of Cābridge 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the King, was with Hen. Scroope Lord Treasurer, & Sir Thomas Gray 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at South∣hampton. Ann. 3. Reg.
• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• Richard, Duke of Yorke, sonne to the E. of Cambridge, by Anne daughter to the Earle of March, made his claime, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Hon. 6.
• 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 5. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 9. yeares and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and died in the 36 yeare of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• Hen. 6. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 one yeere old when 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, was committed to the charge of the two good Dukes, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Yorke made 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Fraunce, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the death of the D. of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• Edmond, Duke of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, a great enemie of the Duke of Yorke.
• This Ravner was Duke of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, & onely inioyed the ti∣tle of the K. of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• William dels 〈◊〉〈◊〉 E. of Suffolke, after created D. of Suff. the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in this mariage: which was 〈◊〉〈◊〉, An. Reg. 23. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the King & the Lady 〈◊〉〈◊〉, daughter to Rayner D. of 〈◊〉〈◊〉; to whom was deliuered vp the Duchy of Aniou, & the Conty of Maine, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the conclusion of this match.
• The pride and hau∣tinesse of this Queene Margaret gaue the first origi nall to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that so lowed by the death of Humsrey Duke of Gloster 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• 〈◊〉〈◊〉, quàm breuem 〈◊〉〈◊〉 esse qua magna sit.
• The Virtues of Humsrey D. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• The D. of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 comming to this Parlement from his Castle of the Viez 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 L. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 high 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the Dukes of Bucking∣ham and Somerset, with others; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he appointed certaine of the Kings 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to attend vp∣on him: but he died 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he was brought to his an swere, some say of sorrow, others of a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or an 〈◊〉〈◊〉, An. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 25. The D. of Suffalke was a principall instrument in this businisse.
• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Pole 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Reg. 26 and is 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the next year: after.
• The Duchy of Nor∣mandy was lost, in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 1449. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it had been held 30 〈◊〉〈◊〉 conque∣red by 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Ann. Reg. 27. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 obiected 〈◊〉〈◊〉 de la 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Duke of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• At the Parlia∣mēt at Leicester, the lower House besought the K. that such persons as assented to the rendring of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Maine, might bee duelie pumshed: of which fact, they accused as prin∣cipals, the D. of Sufsolke, the L. Say, Treasurer of Eng. with o∣thers. Where vp∣on, the K. to ap∣pease the Com∣mons, sequestred them from their offices & rooms; and aster, bani∣shed the D. for 5 yeeres.
• As the D. vvas 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into France, hee was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Warre, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉〈◊〉: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tooke 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him back to 〈◊〉〈◊〉: where his head was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 off, and his body left on the sands. Ann. reg. 27.
• The Commons of Kent assembled thē selues in great nū∣ber: and had to their Captains lack Cade, who named himselfe Mortimer, Cosen to the Duke of 〈◊〉〈◊〉: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 purpose to redresse the aluses of the gouernement.