England's heroical epistles, written in imitation of the stile and manner of Ovid's Epistles with annotations of the chronicle history / by Michael Drayton, Esq.

ELINOR COBHAM TO Duke HƲMPHREY.

The ARGUMENT.

Elinor, Daughter to the Lord Cobham of Sterborough, and Wife to Humphrey Plantaginet Duke of Gloucester, the Son of Henry the fourth King of England (sirnamed Bul∣lingbrook) This noble Duke for his great wisdom and justice called the good, was by King Henry the fifth (Brother to the Duke) at his Death appointed Protector of the Land du∣ring the nonage of Henry the sixth, this Elinor Dutchess of Gloucester a Proud and Ambitious Woman knowing that if young Henry died without issue, the Duke her Husband was the nearest of the blood, Conspired with one Bullingbrook a Great Magitian, Hun a Priest, and Jourdan Witch of Eye, by sorcery to make away the King, and by conjuration to know who should succeed. Of this being justly convicted she was adjudged to do pennance three several times openly in London and then to perpetual banishment to the Isle of Man, from whence she writes this Epistle.

MEthinks, not knowing who these Lines should send, Thou straight turn'st over to the latter end Where, thou my Name no sooner hast espy'd, But in disdain my Letter casts aside:

Why, if thou wilt, I will my self deny, Nay, I'll affirm and swear, I am not I; Or if in that thy shame thou do'st perceive, For thy dear sake, loe I my Name will leave. And yet, methinks, amaz'd thou shouldst not stand, Nor seem so much appalled at my Hand; For my Misfortunes have inur'd thine Eye, (Long before this) to Sights of Misery: No, no, read on, 'tis I, the very same, All thou canst read, is but to read my shame. Be not dismay'd, nor let my Name affright, The worst it can, is but t' offend thy sight; It cannot wound, nor doe thee deadly harm, It is no dreadfull Spell, no Magick Charm; If she that sent it, love Duke Humphry so, Is't possible her Name should be his Foe? Yes, I am Elinor, I am very she, Who brought for Dower a Virgins Bed to thee; * Though envious Beauford slander'd me before, To be Duke Humphry's wanton Paramour. And though indeed I can it not deny, * To Magick once I did my self apply; I won thee not, as there be many think, With poys'ning Philters, and bewitching Drink: Nor on thy Person did I ever prove Those wicked Potions, so procuring Love.

I cannot boast, to be rich Holland's Heir, Nor of the Blood and Greatness of Baveire; * Yet Elinor brought no forreign Armies in, To fetch her back; as did thy Jacomin;

Nor clam'rous Husband follow'd me that fled, Exclaiming, Humphry to defile his Bed; Nor wast thou forc'd the Slander to suppress, To send me back as an Adulteress: * Brabant, nor Burgoyne, claimed me by force, Nor su'd to Rome, to hasten my Divorce; Nor Belgia's Pomp, defac'd with Belgia's Fire, The just reward of her unjust desire: * Nor Bedford's Spouse, your noble Sister Ann, That Princely-issued great Burgonian, Need stand with me, to move a Womans strife, To yield the place to the Protector's VVife; If Cobham's Name my Birth can dignifie, Or Sterborough renown my Family.

* VVhere's Greenwich now, thy Elinor's Court of late, Where she with Humphry held a Princely State? That pleasant Kent when I abroad should ride, That to my pleasure laid forth all her Pride? The Thames by Water when I took the air, That danc'd my Barge, in lanching from the stayre? The anch'ring Ships, which when I pass'd the Road, Were wont to hang their chequ'red Tops abroad? How could it be, those that were wont to stand, To see my Pomp, so Goddess-like to Land, Should after see me mayl'd up in a Sheet Do shamefull Pennance three times in the Street? Rung with a Bell, a Taper in my Hand, Bare-foot to trudge before a Beadle's VVand; That little Babes, not having use of Tongue, Stood pointing at me, as I came along.

Where then was Humphrey, where was his Com∣mand Wast thou not Lord Protector of the Land? Or for thy Justice, who could thee deny The Title of the good Duke Humphry? What Bloud, extract from famous Edward's Line, Could boast it self to be so pure as thine? Who else, next Henry, should the Realm prefer, If it allow the Line of Lancaster? But Rayner's Daughter must from France be set, And with a vengeance on our Throne be set; Mauns, Main and Anjou, on that Beggar cast, To bring her home to England in such hast: And what for Henry thou hadst laboured there, To joyn the King with Arminack's rich Heir, Must all be dash'd, as no such thing had been. Pool needs must have his Darling made a Queen, How should he with our Princes else be plac'd, To have his Earlship with a Dukedome grac'd; And raise the Off-spring of his Blood so high, As Lords of us and our Posterity?

O, that by Sea when he to France was sent, The Ship had sunk, wherein the Traytor went; Or that the Sands had swallow'd her, before She e'er set foot upon the English Shore! But all is well, nay, we have store to give, What need we more, we by her Looks can live: All that great Henry by his Conquests heapt, And famous Bedford to his glory kept, Is given back to Rayner all in post; And by this means, rich Normandy is lost.

Those which have come as Mistresses of ours, Have into England brought their goodly Dow'rs, Which to our Coffers yearly Tribute brings, The Life of Subjects, and the strength of Kings; The means whereby fair England ever might Raise Power in France, to back her antient Right, But she brings Ruine here to make aboad, And cancels all our lawfull Claim abroad, And she must recapitulate my Shame, And give a thousand by-words to my Name, And call me, Beldam, Gib, Witch, Night-mare, Trot, With all despight that may a Woman spot.

Oh, that I were a Witch but for her sake! Faith then her Queenship little Rest should take; I'd scratch that Face, that may not feel the Air, And knit whole Ropes of Witch-knots in her Hair: O how I'd Hag her nightly in her Bed, And on her Brest sit like a lump of Lead, And like a Fairy pinch that dainty Skin, Her wanton Blood is now so cocker'd in; Or take me some such known familiar shape, As she my Vengeance never should escape, Were I a Garment, none should need the more To sprinkle me with Nessus poys'ned Gore; It were enough, if she once put me on, To tear both Flesh and Sinews from the Bone: Were I a Flower, that might her Smell delight, Though I were not the poys'ning Aconite, I would send such a Fume into her Brow, Should make her mad, as mad as I am now.

* They say, the Druides once lived in this Isle, This fatall Man, the place of my Exile, Whose pow'rfull Charms such dreadfull Wonders wrought, Which in the Gotish Island Tongue were taught; Oh, that their Spels to me they had resign'd, Wherewith they rais'd and calm'd both Sea and Wind! And made the Moon pawse in her paled Sphere, Whilst her grim Dragons drew them through the Air: Their Hellish Power, to kill the Plow-mans Seed, Or to fore-speak whole Flocks, as they did feed; To nurse a damned Spirit with humane Blood, To carry them through Earth, Air, Fire and Floud: Had I this skill, that Time hath almost lost, How like a Goblin I would haunt her ghost? O pardon, pardon my mis-govern'd Tongue, A Womans strength cannot endure my Wrong.

* Did not the Heav'ns her coming in withstand, As though affrighted, when she came to Land? The Earth did quake, her coming to abide, The goodly Thames did twice keep back his Tide, Pauls shook with Tempests, & that mounting spire, With Lightning sent from Heav'n, was set on fire, Our stately Buidings to the ground were blown, Her Pride by these prodigious signs were shown, More fearfull Visions on the English Earth, Then ever were at any Death, or Birth. Ah Humphry, Humphry, if I should not speak, My Breast would split, my very Heart would break.

I, that was wont so many to command, Worse now than with a Clap-dish in my hand; A simple Mantle covering me withal, The very'st Leper, of Cares Hospital; That from my State a Presence held in awe, Glad here to kennel in a Pad of Straw; And like an Owl, by Night to goe abroad, Roosted all day within an Ivy Tod, Among the Sea-Cliffs, in the dampy Caves, In Charnel-Houses, fit to dwell in Graves.

Saw'st thou those Eyes, in whose sweet cheerfull Look Duke Humphry once such joy and pleasure took, Sorrow hath so despoil'd them all of grace, Thou couldst not say, this was my El'nors face: Like a foul Gorgon, whose dishevell'd Hair With every blast flyes glaring in the Air; Some standing up like Horns upon my Head, Even like Those Women that in Coos are bred: My lank Breasts hang like Bladders left unblown, My Skin with lothsome Jaundize over-grown; So pin'd away, that if thou long'st to see Ruin's true Picture, only look on me. Sometime, in thinking of what I have had, I from a sudden Extasie grow mad: Then, like a Bedlam, forth thy El'nor runs Like one of Bacchus raging frantick Nuns; Or like a Tartar, when in strange disguise, Prepar'd unto a dismal Sacrifice.

That Prelate Beaufort, a foul ill befal him: Prelate said I! nay, Devil I should call him:

Ah God forgive me, if I think amiss, His very Name, me thinks, my Poyson is: Ah that vile Judas, our professed Foe, My Curse pursue him, wheresoe'r he goe; That to my Judgment, when I did appear, Laid to my charge those things that never were: That I should know of Bullenbrooks Intents, The hallowing of his Magick Instruments; That I procured Southwell to assist, Which was by Order consecrate a Priest; That it was I should cover all they did, Which but for him had to this day been hid. Ah that vile Bastard, that himself dare vant, To be the Son of thy brave Grandsire Gaunt, Whom he but father'd of meer Charity, To rid his Mother of that Infamy; Who, if Report of elder Times be true, Yet to this day his Father never knew. He that by Murthers black and odious Crime, To Henries Throne attempted once to clime, Having procur'd by hope of golden gain. A fatal Hand, his Soverain to have slain; Whom to his Chamber closely he convey'd, And for that purpose fitly there had laid; Upon whose Sword that famous Prince had dy'd, If by a Dog he had not been descry'd.

But now the Queen, her Minion Pool, and he, As it please them, ev'n so must all things be; England's no place for any one beside; All is too little to maitain their pride.

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situation might remain an assured Monument of his Wisdome, if there were no other memory of the same.

They say the Druides once lived in this Isle.

It should seem, that there were two Islands, both of them called Mona, though now distinguished, the one, by the name of Man, the other, by the Name of Anglesey; both which, were full of many infernal Ceremonies: as may ap∣pear by Agricola's Voyage, made into the hithermost Man, de∣scribed by his Son-in-Law, Cornelius Tacitus. And as Su∣perstition, the Daughter of Barbarism and Ignorance; so a∣mongst those Northerly Nations, like as in America, Magick was most esteemed.

Druidae were the publick Ministers of their Religion, as throughly taught in all Rites thereof: Their Doctrine concerned the Immortality of the Soul, the Contempt of Death, and all other Points which may conduce to Resolution, Fortitude, and Magnanimity: Their abode was in Groves and Woods, where∣upon they have their Name: Their pewer extended it self to master the Souls of Men deceased, and to confer with Ghosts, and other Spirits, about the success of things.

Plutarch, in his profound and learned Discourse of the defect of Oracles, reporteth, That the outmost British Isles were the Prison of a sort of fictious Demi-gods: But it shall not need to speak any farther of the Druidae, then that which Lucan doth:

Et vos barbaricos ritus, moremque sinistrum Sacrorum, Druidae positis repetistis ab armis.

Did not the Heavens her coming in withstand.

Noting the prodigious and fearful signs that were seen

England, a little before her coming in: which Elinor expresseth in this Epistle, as afore-shewing the Dangers which should ensue upon this unlucky Marriage.

The hallowing of the Magick Instruments.

The Instruments which Bullenbrook used in his Conjurati∣ons, according to the divelish Ceremonies and Customs of these unlawful Arts, were dedicated at a Mass in the Lodge in Harn∣sey Park, by Southwel Priest of Westminster.

Having procur'd by hope of golden gain.

This was one of the Articles that Duke Humphry urged a∣gainst Cardinal Beauford, That he conspired the death of Henry the fifth, by conveying a Villain into his Chamber, which in the Night should have murthered him: but what ground of Truth he had for the same, I leave to dispute.