Book 2
THE SECOND
BOOKE.
1
I N dearth of faith, and scarcitie of friendes,
The late great mighty Monarch, on the shore
In th'vtmost corner of his Land, attendes
To call backe false obedience, fled before;
Toyles, and in vaine his toyle, and labour spendes:
More harts he sought to gaine, he lost the more:
All turn'd their faces to the rising sunne,
And leaue his setting-fortune, night begunne.
2
Percy , how soone, by thy example led,
The household traine forsooke their wretched Lord!
When, with thy staffe of charge dishonoured,
Thou brak'st thy fayth, not steward of thy word,
And tookst his part that after tooke thy head;
When thine owne hand had strengthned first his sword.
“For, such great merits do vpbraid, and call
“For great reward, or thinke the great too smal.
3
And Kings loue not to be beholding ought:
Which makes their chiefest friends oft speed the worst.
For, those, by whom their fortunes haue bin wrought,
Put them in minde of what they were at first
Whose doubtfull faith if once in question brought,
Tis thought they will offend because they durst:
And taken in a fault are neuer spar'd;
“Being easier to reuenge, then to reward.
4
And thus these mightie actors, sonnes of change,
These partizanes of factions, often tri'd;
That, in the smoake of Innouations strange,
Builde huge vncertaine plots of vnsure pride:
And, on the hazard of a bad exchange,
Haue ventur'd all the stocke of life beside;
“Whilst Princes, rais'd, disdaine to haue bin rais'd
“By those whose helpes deserue not to be prais'd.
5
But thus is Richard left, and all alone
Saue with th'vnarmed title of his right;
And those braue troupes, his fortune-followers gone,
And all that pompe (the complements of might)
Th'amuzing shadowes that are cast vpon
The state of Princes, to beguile the sight,
All vanisht cleane, and only frailty left;
Himselfe, of all, besides himselfe, berest:
6
Like when some great Colossus , whose strong base
Or mightie props are shrunk or sunke away,
Fore-shewing ruine, threatning all the place
That in the danger of his fall doth stay,
All straight to better safetie flocke apace;
None rest to helpe the ruine, while they may.
“The perill great, and doubtfull the redresse,
“Men are content to leaue Right in distresse.
7
And looke, how Thames , inricht with many a Flood,
And goodly Riuers (that haue made their Graues,
And buried both their names and all their good
Within his greatnes, to augment his waues)
Glides on, with pompe of Waters, vnwithstood,
Vnto the Ocean (which his tribute craues)
And layes vp all his wealth, within that powre,
Which in it selfe all greatnes doth deuowre:
8
So flocke the mighty, with their following traine,
Vnto the all-receiuing Bullingbrooke :
Who wonders at himselfe, how hee should gaine
So many harts as now his partie tooke;
And with what ease, and with how slender paine,
His fortune giues him more then he could looke:
What he imagind neuer could be wrought
Is powrd vpon him, farre beyond his thought.
9
So, often, things which seeme at first in showe,
Without the compasse of accomplishment,
Once vent'red on, to that successe do growe,
That euen the Authors do admire th'euent;
So many meanes which they did neuer knowe
Do second their designes, and do present
Straunge vnexpected helps, and chiefly then
When th'Actors are reputed worthy men.
10
And Richard , who lookt Fortune in the backe,
Sees headlong-lightness running from the right,
Amazed standes to note how great a wracke
Of faith, his riots caus'd, what mortall spight
They beare him, who did law and iustice lacke;
Sees how concealed hate breakes out in sight,
And feare-depressed enuie (pent before)
When fit occasion thus vnlockt the dore.
11
Like when some mastiue whelpe, dispos'd to play,
A whole confused heard of beastes doth chace,
Which with one vile consent run all away;
If any hardier then the rest in place
But offer head, that idle feare to stay,
Backe straight the daunted chaser turnes his face,
And all the rest (with bold example led)
As fast run on him, as before they fled:
12
So, with this bold opposer, rushes-on
This many-headed monster, Multitude :
And he, who late was feard, is set vpon,
And by his owne ( Actæon -like) pursu'd;
His owne, that had all loue and awe forgone:
Whom breath and shadowes onely did delude,
And newer hopes, which promises perswade;
Though rarely men keepe promises so made.
13
Which when he saw; thus to himselfe complaines:
“O why do you, fond, false-deceiued, so
“Run headlong to that change that nothing gaines,
“But gaine of sorrow, onely change of wo?
“Which is all one, if he be like who raignes:
“Why will you buy, with blood, what you forgoe?
“Tis nought, but shewes, that Ignorance esteemes:
“The thing possest is not the thing it seemes.
14
“And when the sinnes of Bullingbrooke shall be
“As great as mine, and you vnanswered
“In these your hopes; then may you wish for me
“Your lawfull Sov'raigne, from whose faith you fled;
“And, grieued in your soules, the error see
“That shining promises had shadowed:
“As th'humorous sicke, remouing, finde no ease,
“When changed Chambers change not the disease.
15
“Then shall you finde this name of Libertie
“(The watch-word of Rebellion euer vs'd;
“The idle eccho of Vncertaintie,
“That euermore the simple hath abus'd)
“But new-turnd Seruitude and Miserie;
“And euen the same and worse, before refus'd.
“Th'aspirer once attaind vnto the top,
“Cuts off those meanes by which himselfe got vp.
16
“And with a harder hand, and streighter raine,
“Doth curbe that loosenes he did finde before;
“Doubting th'occasion like might serue againe,
“His owne example makes him feare the more.
“Then, ô iniurious Land, what dost thou gaine
“To aggrauate thine owne afflictions store?
“Since thou must needs obay Kings gouernement;
“And no rule, euer yet, could all content.
17
“What if my youth hath offered vp to lust
“Licentious fruites of indiscreet desires,
“When idle heate of vainer yeeres did thrust
“That furie on: yet now when it retires
“To calmer state, why should you so distrust
“To reape that good whereto mine age aspires?
“The youth of Princes haue no boundes for sinne,
“Vnlesse themselues do make them boundes within.
18
“Who sees not, that sees ought (wo worth the while)
“The easie way, that Greatnesse hath to fall?
“Enuirond with deceit, hemm'd-in with guile,
“Sooth'd vp in flatterie, fawned on of all:
“Within his owne, liuing as in exile;
“Heares but with others eares, or not at all:
“And euen is made a prey vnto a fewe,
“Who locke vp grace that would to other shewe:
19
“And who (as let in lease) do farme the Crowne,
“And ioy the vse of Maiestie and might;
“Whil'st we hold but the shadow of our owne,
“Pleas'd with vaine shewes, and dallied with delight:
“They, as huge vnproportion'd mountaines, growne
“Betweene our land and vs, shadowing our light,
“Bereaue the rest of ioy, and vs of loue,
“And keepe downe all, to keepe themselues aboue.
20
“Which wounds, with griefe, poore vnrespected zeale,
“When grace holdes no proportion in the parts;
“When distribution, in the Common-weale,
“Of charge and honour due to good desarts
“Is stopt; when others greedie hands must deale
“The benefite that Maiestie imparts:
“What good we meant, comes gleaned home but light,
“Whilst we are robd of prayse, they of their right.
21
Thus he complaind; when, lo, from Lancaster
(The new intit'led Duke) with order sent
Arriv'd Northumberland , as to conferre
And make relation of the Dukes intent:
And offred there, if that he would referre
The controuersie vnto Parlement,
And punish those that had abus'd the State,
As causers of this vniuerfall hate;
22
And also see that Iustice might be had
On those the Duke of Glosters death procur'd,
And such remov'd from Councell as were bad;
His cofin Henry would, he there assur'd,
On humble knees before his Grace be glad
To aske him pardon, to be well secur'd,
And haue his right and grace resto'rd againe:
The which was all he labour'd to obtaine.
23
And therefore doth an enterparle exhort,
Perswades him leaue that vnbeseeming place,
And with a princely hardinesse resort
Vnto his people, that attend his Grace:
They meant his publique good, and not his hurt;
And would most ioyfull be to see his face:
He layes his soule to pledge, and takes his Oath,
The ost of Christ, an ostage for his troth.
24
This proffer, with such protestations, made
Vnto a King that so neere danger stood,
Was a sufficient motiue to perswade,
When no way else could shew a face so good:
Th'vnhonourable meanes of safety, bade
Danger accept, what Maiesty withstood.
“When better choyses are not to be had,
“We needes must take the seeming best of bad.
25
Yet standes he in doubt, a while, what way to take
Conferring with that small remaining troope
Fortune had left; which neuer would forsake
Their poore distressed Lord, nor neuer stoope
To any hopes the stronger part could make.
Good Carlile, Ferby , and Sir Stephen Scroope ,
With that most worthy Montague , were all
That were content with Maiesty to fall.
26
Time spare, and make not sacrilegious theft
Vpon so memorable constancie:
Let not succeeding Ages be bereft
Of such examples of integritie:
Nor thou magnanimous Leigh must not be left
In darknesse, for thy rare fidelitie;
To saue thy faith, content to lose thy head;
That reuerent head, of good men honoured.
27
Nor will my Conscience I should iniury
Thy memorie most trusty Ienico ,
For b'ing not ours; though wish that Gasconie
Claym'd not, for hers, the faith we reuerence so;
That England might haue this small companie
Onely to her alone, hauing no moe:
But le'ts diuide this good betwixt vs both,
Take she thy birth, and we will haue thy troth.
28
“Graue Montague , whom long experience taught
“In either fortune, thus aduis'd his King:
“ Deare Sou'raigne know, the matter that is sought,
“Is onely now your Maiesty to bring
“(From out of this poore safetie you haue got)
“Into theyr hands, that else hold euery thing:
“For, now, but onely you they want, of all;
“And wanting you, they nothing theirs can call.
29
“Here haue you craggie Rocks to take your part;
“That neuer will betray their faith to you:
“These trusty Mountaines here will neuer start,
“But stand t'vpbraid their shame that are vntrue.
“Here may you fence your safetie with small art,
“Against the pride of that confused Crew:
“If men will not, these verie Cliffes will fight,
“And be sufficient to defend your right.
30
“Then keepe you here, and here shall you behold,
“Within short space, the slyding faith of those
“That cannot long their resolution hold,
“Repent the course their idle rashnesse chose:
“For, that same mercenarie faith (they sold)
“With least occasions discontented growes,
“And insolent those voluntarie bands;
“Presuming how, by them, he chiefly stands.
31
“And how can he those mightie troupes sustaine
“Long time, where now he is, or any where?
“Besides, what discipline can he retaine
“Whereas he dares not keepe them vnder feare,
“For feare to haue them to reuolt againe?
“So that it selfe when Greatnesse cannot beare,
“With her owne waight, must needes confus'dly fall,
“Without the helpe of other force at all.
32
“And hither to approche hee will not dare;
“Where deserts, rockes, and hilles, no succours giue;
“Where desolation, and no comforts are;
“Where few can do no good, many not liue.
“Besides, we haue the Ocean to prepare
“Some other place, if this should not relieue:
“So shall you tire his force, consume his strength,
“And weary all his followers, out, at length.
33
“Doe but referre to time, and to small time;
“And infinite occasions you shall finde
“To quaile the Rebell, euen in the prime
“Of all his hopes, beyond all thought of minde:
“For, many (with the conscience of the crime)
“In colder blood will curse what they design'd:
“And bad successe, vpbrayding their ill fact,
“Drawes them, whom others draw, from such an act.
34
“For, if the least imagin'd ouerture
“But of conceiv'd reuolt men once espie;
“Straight shrinke the weake, the great will not indure,
“Th'impatient run, the discontented flie:
“The friend his friends example doth procure,
“And all togither haste them presently
“Some to their home, some hide: others, that stay,
“To reconcile themselues, the rest betray.
35
“What hope haue you, that euer Bullingbrooke
“Will liue a Subiect, that hath tri'd his fate?
“Or what good reconcilement can you looke,
“Where he must alwayes feare, and you must hate?
“And neuer thinke that he this quarrell tooke
“To reobtaine thereby his priuate state.
“T'was greater hopes, that hereto did him call:
“And he will thrust for all, or else lose all.
36
“Nor trust this suttle Agent , nor his oth.
“You knowe his faith: you tri'd it before hand.
“His fault is death: and now to lose his troth,
“To saue his life, he will not greatly stand.
“Nor trust your kinsmans proffer; since you, both
“Shew, blood in Princes is no stedfast band.
“What though he hath no title? he hath might:
“That makes a title, where there is no right.
37
Thus he: when that good Bishop thus replies,
Out of a minde that quiet did affect:
“My Lord, I must confesse, as your case lies,
“You haue great cause your Subiects to suspect,
“And counterplot against their subtelties,
“Who all good care and honestie neglect;
“And feare the worst what insolence may do,
“Or armed fury may incense them to.
38
“But yet, my Lord, feare may aswell transport
“Your care, beyond the truth of what is meant;
“As otherwise neglect may fall too short,
“In not examining of their intent:
“But, let vs weigh the thing which they exhort.
“Tis Peace, Submission, and a Parlement:
“Which, how expedient 'tis for either part,
“T were good we iudg'd with an vnpartiall hart.
39
“And first, for you my Lord, in griefe we see
“The miserable case wherein you stand;
“Voyde here of succour, helpe, or maiestie,
“On this poore promontorie of your Land:
“And where how long a time your Grace may be
“(Expecting what may fall into your hand)
“Wee know not; since th'euent of things do lie
“Clos'd vp in darkenes, farre from mortall eye.
40
“And how vnfit it were, you should protract
“Long time, in this so dangerous disgrace?
“As though that you good spirit and courage lackt
“To issue out of this opprobrious place:
“When euen the face of Kings do oft exact
“Feare and remorse in faultie subiects base;
“And longer stay a great presumption drawes
“That you were guilty, or did doubt your cause.
41
“What Subiects euer so inrag'd would dare
“To violate a Prince, t'offend the blood
“Of that renowmed race, by which they are
“Exalted to the height of all their good?
“What if some things by chaunce misguided were,
“Which they haue now rebelliously withstood?
“They neuer will proceed with that despight
“To wracke the State, and to confound the right.
42
“Nor doe I think that Bullingbrooke can bee
“So blind-ambitious, to affect the Crowne;
“Hauing himselfe no title, and doth see
“Others, if you should fayle, must keepe him downe.
“Besides, the Realme, though mad, will neuer gree
“To haue a right succession ouerthrowne;
“To rayse confusion vpon them and theirs,
“By preiudicing true and lawfull heires.
43
“And now it may be, fearing the successe
“Of his attemptes, or with remorse of minde,
“Or else distrusting secret practises,
“He would be glad his quarrell were resign'd;
“So that there were some orderly redresse
“In those disorders which the Realme did finde:
“And this, I thinke, he now sees were his best;
“Since farther actions further but vnrest.
44
“And, for th'impossibilitie of peace
“And reconcilement, which my Lord obiects;
“I thinke, when doing iniurie shall cease
“(The cause pretended) then surcease th'effects:
“Time and some other Actions may increase
“As may diuert the thought of these respects;
“Others law of forgetting iniuries
“May serue our turne in like calamities.
45
“And for his oath, in conscience, and in sense,
“True honour would not so be found vntrue,
“Nor spot his blood with such a foule offence
“Against his soule, against his God, and you.
“Our Lord forbid, that ever with th'expence
“Of heauen and heauenly ioyes, that shall insue,
“Mortalitie should buy this little breath,
“T'indure the horror of eternall death.
46
“And therefore, as I thinke, you safely may
“Accept this proffer; that determine shall
“All doubtfull courses by a quiet way,
“Needfull for you, fit for them, good for all.
“And here, my Sov'raigne, to make longer stay
“T'attend for what you are vnsure will fall,
“May slippe th'occasion, and incense their will:
“For, Feare, that's wiser then the truth, doth ill.
47
Thus he perswades, out of a zealous minde;
Supposing, men had spoken as they ment:
And, vnto this, the King likewise inclin'd:
As wholly vnto peace, and quiet bent:
And yeeldes himselfe to th'Earle, goes, leaues-behind
His safetie, Scepter, Honor, Gouernement:
For, gone, all's gone: he is no more his owne;
And they rid quite of feare, he of the Crowne.
48
A place there is, where proudly rais'd there stands
A huge aspiring Rock, neighb'ring the Skies;
Whose surly brow imperiously commaunds
The Sea his boundes, that at his proud feete lies:
And spurnes the waues, that in rebellious bands
Assault his Empire, and against him rise:
Vnder whose craggy gouernment, there was
A niggard narrow way for men to passe.
49
And here, in hidden cliffes, concealed lay
A troope of armed men, to intercept
The vnsuspecting King, that had no way
To free his foote, that into danger stept.
The dreadfull Ocean , on the one side, lay:
The hard-incroching Mountaine th'other kept:
Before him, he beheld his hateful foes:
Behind him, trayterous enemies inclose.
50
Enuiron'd thus, the Earle begins to cheere
His al-amased Lord, by him betrayde;
Bids him take courage, ther's no cause of feare,
These troopes, but there to guard him safe, were layd.
To whom the King; What neede so many here?
This is against your oath, my Lord, he said.
But, now hee sees in what distresse he stood:
To striue, was vaine; t'intreat, would do no good.
51
And therefore on with careful hart he goes;
Complaines (but, to himselfe) sighes, grieues, and freats;
At Rutland dines, though feedes but on his woes:
The griefe of minde hindred the minde of meats.
For, sorrow, shame, and feare, scorne of his foes,
The thought of what he was, and what now threats,
Then what he should, and now what he hath done,
Musters confused passions all in one.
52
To Flint , from thence, vnto a restless bed,
That miserable night, he comes conuayd;
Poorely prouided, poorely followed,
Vncourted, vnrespected, vnobayd:
Where, if vncertaine sleepe but hoouered
Ouer the drooping cares that heauy weigh'd;
Millions of figures, fantasie presents
Vnto that sorrow, wakened griefe augments.
53
His new misfortune makes deluding sleepe
Say 'twas not so (False dreames the trueth denie).
Wherewith he starts; feels waking cares do creepe
Vpon his soule, and giues his dreame the lie;
Then sleepes againe: and then againe, as deepe
Deceites of darknes mocke his miserie.
So hard believ'd was sorrow in her youth:
That he thinks truth was dreams, & dreams were truth.
54
The morning light presents vnto his view
(Walking vpon a turret of the place)
The trueth of what hee sees is prov'd too true;
A hundred thousand men, before his face,
Came marching on the shore, which thither drew:
And, more to aggrauate his great disgrace,
Those he had wronged, or done to them despight,
(As if they him vpbrayd) came first in sight.
55
There might hee see that false forsworne vile crue,
Those shameless agents of vnlawfull lust,
His Pandars, Parasites (people vntrue
To God and man, vnworthy any trust)
Preacing vnto that fortune that was new,
And with vnblushing faces formost thrust;
As those that still with prosperous fortune sort,
And are as borne for Corte, or made in Cort.
56
There hee beheld, how humbly diligent
New Adulation was to be at hand;
How ready Falsehood stept; how nimbly went
Base pick-thank Flattery, and preuents Command:
Hee saw the great obay, the graue consent,
And all with this new-rays'd Aspirer stand;
But, which was worst, his owne part acted there,
Not by himselfe; his powre, not his, appeare.
57
Which whilst he view'd, the Duke he might perceiue
Make towards the Castle, to an interview.
Wherefore he did his contemplation leaue,
And downe into some fitter place withdrew;
Where now he must admitte, without his leaue,
Him, who before with all submission due
Would haue beene glad, t'attend, and to prepare
The grace of audience, with respectiue care.
58
Who now being come in presence of his king
(Whether the sight of Maiestie did breed
Remorse of what he was incompassing,
Or whether but to formalize his deed)
He kneeles him downe with some astonishing,
Rose; kneeles againe: (for, craft wil still exceed)
When-as the king approch't, put off his Hood,
And welcomd him, though wisht him little good.
59
“To whom, the Duke began: My Lord, I knowe
“That both vncall'd, and vnexpected too,
“I haue persumed in this sort to showe
“And seeke the right which I am borne vnto:
“Yet pardon I beseech you, and allow
“Of that constraint, which driues me thus to doo.
“For, since I could not by a fairer course
“Attaine mine owne, I must vse this of force.
60
“Well: so it seemes, deare Cosin, said the King;
“Though you might haue procur'd it otherwise:
“And I am here content, in euery thing
“To right you, as your selfe shal best deuise:
“And God voutsafe, the force that here you bring
“Beget not England greater iniuries.
And so they part: the Duke made haste from thence:
It was no place to ende this difference.
61
Straight towards London , in this heate of pride,
They forward set; as they had fore-decreed:
With whom, the Captiue King constraind must ride,
Most meanely mounted on a simple Steed:
Degraded of all grace and ease beside,
Thereby neglect of all respect to breed.
For, th'ouer-spreading pompe of prouder might
Must darken vveaknes, and debase his sight.
62
Approaching neere the Cittie, hee was met
With all the sumptuous shewes ioy could deuise:
Where new-desire to please did not forget
To passe the vsuall pompe of former guise.
Striuing Applause, as out of prison let,
Runnes-on, beyond all bounds, to nouelties:
And voyce, and hands, and knees, and all do now
A strange deformed forme of welcome showe.
63
And manifold Confusion running greetes,
Shoutes, cries, claps hands, thrusts, striues and presses neere:
Houses impov'risht were, t'inrich the streetes,
And streetes left naked, that (vnhappie) were
Plac't from the sight where Joy with Wonder meetes;
Where all, of all degrees, striue to appeare;
Where diuers-speaking Zeale one murmure findes,
In vndistinguisht voyce to tell their mindes.
64
He that in glorie of his fortune sate,
Admiring what hee thought could neuer be,
Did feele his blood within salute his state,
And lift vp his reioycing soule, to see
So many hands and hearts congratulate
Th'aduancement of his long-desir'd degree;
When, prodigall of thankes, in passing by,
He resalutes them all, with chearefull eye.
65
Behind him, all aloofe, came pensiue on
The vnregarded King; that drooping went
Alone, and (but for spight) scarce lookt vpon:
Iudge, if hee did more enuie, or lament.
See what a wondrous worke this day is done;
Which th'image of both fortunes doth present:
In th'one, to shew the best of glories face;
In th'other, worse then worst of all disgrace.
66
Novv Isabell , the young afflicted Queene
(Whose yeares had neuer shew'd her but delights,
Nor louely eyes before had euer seene
Other then smiling ioyes, and ioyfull sights;
Borne great, matcht great, liv'd great, and euer beene
Partaker of the worlds best benefits)
Had plac't her selfe, hearing her Lord should passe
That way, where she vnseene in secret was;
68
Sicke of delay, and longing to behold
Her long-mist Loue in fearefull ieoperdies:
To whom, although it had, in sort, beene told
Of their proceeding, and of his surprize;
Yet thinking they would neuer be so bold
To lead their Lord in any shamefull wise,
But rather would conduct him as their King;
As seeking but the States reordering.
69
And foorth shee lookes, and notes the formost traine;
And grieues to view some there she wisht not there:
Seeing the chiefe not come, stayes, lookes againe;
And yet she sees not him that should appeare:
Then backe she stands, and then desires as faine
Againe to looke, to see if hee were neere:
At length a glittering troupe farre off she spies,
Perceiues the throng, and heares the shouts and cries.
70
Lo, yonder now at length he comes, sayth shee:
Looke, my goode women, where he is in sight:
Do you not see him? yonder, that is hee,
Mounted on that white Courser, all in white,
There where the thronging troupes of people bee;
I know him by his seate, he sits s'vpright:
Lo, now he bowes: deare Lord, with what sweet grace!
How long, haue I longd to behold that face!
71
O what delight my hart takes by mine eye!
I doubt me, when he comes but something neere,
I shall set wide the window: what care I
Who doth see me, so him I may see cleare?
Thus doth false ioy delude her wrongfully
(Sweete Lady) in the thing she held so deare.
For, neerer come, she findes she had mistooke;
And him she markt, was Henrie Bullingbrooke .
72
Then Enuie takes the place in her sweet eyes,
Where Sorrow had prepar'd her selfe a seat:
And words of wrath, from whence complaints should rise,
Proceed from egre lookes, and browes that threat:
Traytor, saith shee; ist thou, that in this wise
To braue thy Lord and King, art made so great?
And haue mine eyes done vnto me this wrong,
To looke on thee? for this, staid I so long?
73
Ah, haue they grac't a periur'd Rebell so?
Well; for their errour I will weepe them out,
And hate the tongue defil'd, that praysde my foe,
And loath the minde, that gaue me not to doubt:
What? haue I added shame vnto my woe?
He looke no more: Ladies, looke you about,
And tell me if my Lord be in this traine;
Least my betraying eyes should erre againe.
74
And in this passion turnes her selfe away:
The rest looke all, and carefull note each wight;
Whil'st she, impatient of the least delay,
Demaundes againe; And what, not yet in sight?
Where is my Lord? What, gone some other way?
I muse at this. O God, graunt all goe right:
Then to the window goes againe at last,
And sees the chiefest traine of all was past;
75
And sees not him her soule desir'd to see:
And yet hope, spent, makes her not leaue to looke.
At last, her loue-quicke eyes, which ready be,
Fastens on one; whom though she neuer tooke
Could be her Lord; yet that sad cheere which hee
Then shew'd, his habit and his woful looke,
The grace he doth in base attire retaine,
Caus'd her she could not from his sight refraine.
76
What might he be, she said, that thus alone
Rides pensiue in this vniuersall ioy?
Some I perceiue, as well as we, do mone:
All are not pleas'd with euery thing this day.
It may be, hee laments the wrong is done
Vnto my Lord, and grieues; as well he may.
Then he is some of ours: and we, of right,
Must pittie him, that pitties our sad plight.
77
But stay: ist not my Lord himselfe I see?
In truth, if 'twere not for his base aray,
I verily should thinke that it were hee;
And yet his basenes doth a grace bewray:
Yet God forbid; let me deceiued be,
And be it not my Lord, although it may:
Let my desire make vowes against desire;
And let my sight approue my sight a lier.
78
Let me not see him, but himselfe; a King:
For so he left me; so he did remoue.
This is not he: this feeles some other thing;
A passion of dislike, or else of loue.
O yes; 'tis he: that princely face doth bring
The euidence of Maiestie to prooue:
That face, I haue conferr'd, which now I see,
With that within my heart, and they agree.
79
Thus as she stood assur'd, and yet in doubt;
Wishing to see, what seene she griev'd to see;
Hauing beliefe, yet faine would be without;
Knowing, yet striuing not to know 'twas hee:
Her heart relenting, yet her heart so stout
As would not yeeld to thinke what was, could be:
Till, quite condemn'd by open proofe of sight,
Shee must confesse; or else denie the light.
80
For, whether loue in him did sympathize,
Or chaunce so wrought, to manifest her doubt;
Euen iust before, where she thus secret pries,
He stayes, and with cleare face lookes all about;
When she: Tis, ô, too true; I know his eyes:
Alas, it is my owne deare Lord cries out:
And, with that crie, sinks downe vpon the flore:
Abundant griefe lackt words to vtter more.
81
Sorrow keepes full possession in her heart,
Lockes it within, stops vp the way of breath,
Shuts senses out of doore from euerie part;
And so long holdes there, as it hazardeth
Oppressed Nature, and is forc't to part,
Or else must be constrain'd to stay with death:
So, by a sigh, it lets in sense againe;
And sense, at length, giues words leaue to complaine.
82
Then, like a torrent had beene stopt before,
Teares, sighes, and words, doubled togither flowe;
Confus'dly striuing whether should do more,
The true intelligence of griefe to showe.
Sighes hindred words: words perisht in their store:
Both, intermixt in one, together growe.
One would do all: the other, more then's part;
Being both sent equall Agents, from the hart.
83
At length, when past the first of sorrowes worst,
When calm'd confusion better forme affordes;
Her heart commands, her words should passe out first,
And then her sighes should interpoint her words;
The whiles her eyes out into teares should burst:
This order with her sorrow she accordes;
Which, orderless, all forme of order brake:
So, then began her wordes, and thus she spake;
84
What? dost thou thus returne againe to mee?
Are these the triumphs, for thy victories?
Is this the glorie thou dost bring with thee,
From that vnhappie Irish enterprise?
And haue I made so many vowes to see
Thy safe returne, and see thee in this wise?
Is this the lookt-for comfort thou dost bring?
To come a Captiue, that wentst out a King?
85
And yet, deare Lord, though thy vngratefull Land
Hath left thee thus; yet I will take thy part:
I doo remaine the same, vnder thy hand;
Thou still dost rule the kingdome of my hart:
If all be lost, that gouernment doth stand;
And that shall neuer from thy rule depart:
And so thou bee, I care not how thou bee:
Let Greatnes goe; so it goe without thee.
86
And welcome come, how-so vnfortunate;
I will applaud what others do despise:
I loue thee for thy selfe, not for thy State:
More then thy selfe, is what without thee, lies:
Let that more goe, if it be in thy fate:
And hauing but thy selfe, it will suffize:
I married was not to thy Crowne, but thee;
And thou, without a Crowne, all one to mee.
87
But what do I, heere lurking idlie, mone
And wayle apart, and in a single part
Make seuerall griefe; which should be both in one;
The touch being equall of each others hart.
Ah, no: sweet Lord, thou must not mone alone.
For, without me, thou art not all thou art;
Nor my teares, without thine, are fully teares:
For thus vnioyn'd, sorrow but halfe appeares.
88
Ioyne then our plaints, and make our griefe full griefe:
Our state being one, let vs not part our care.
Sorrow hath onely this poore bare reliefe,
To be bemon'd of such as wofull are.
And should I rob thy griefe, and be the thiefe
To steale a priuate part, and seuerall share,
Defrawding sorrow of her perfect due?
No, no, my Lord; I come to helpe thee rue.
89
Then foorth she goes, a close concealed way
(As grieuing to be seene not as she was);
Labors t'attaine his presence all she may:
Which, with most hard a-do, was brought to passe
For, that night, vnderstanding where he lay,
With earnest 'treating she procur'd her Passe
To come to him: Rigor could not denie
Those teares, so poore a suite, or put her by.
90
Entring the chamber, where he was alone
(As one whose former fortune was his shame)
Loathing th'vpbrayding eye of any one
That knew him once, and knowes him not the same:
When hauing giuen expresse command that none
Should presse to him; yet hearing some that came
Turnes angerly about his grieued eyes:
When, lo, his sweete afflicted Queene he spyes.
91
Straight cleares his brow; and with a borrowed smile,
What, my deare Queene? welcome, my deare, he sayes:
And (striuing his owne passion to beguile,
And hide the sorrow which his eye betrayes)
Could speake no more; but wrings her hands, the while:
And then, Sweet Lady; and againe he stayes:
Th'excesse of ioy and sorrow both affordes
Affliction none, or but poore niggard wordes.
92
Shee that was come with a resolved hart,
And with a mouth full stor'd, with wordes well chose;
Thinking, This comfort wil I first impart
Vnto my Lord, and thus my speach dispose:
Then thus Ile say, thus looke, and with this art
Hide mine owne sorrow to relieue his woes;
When being come, all this prov'd nought but winde;
Teares, lookes, and sighes, do only tell her minde.
93
Thus both stood silent and confused so,
Their eyes relating how their hearts did morne:
Both bigge with sorrow, and both great with wo
In labour with what was not to be borne:
This mightie burthen, wherewithall they goe,
Dies vndeliuered, perishes vnborne;
Sorrow makes silence her best Orator,
Where words may make it lesse, not shew it more.
94
But he, whom longer time had learn'd the art
T'indure affliction, as a vsuall touch;
Straines foorth his wordes, and throwes dismay apart,
To rayse vp her, whose passions now were such
As quite opprest her ouercharged hart
(Too small a vessell to containe so much)
And cheeres and mones, and fained hopes doth frame,
As if himselfe beleeu'd, or hop't the same.
95
And now, the while these Princes sorrowed,
Forward Ambition (come so neere her ende)
Sleepes not, nor slippes th'occasion offered,
T'accomplish what it did before intend:
A Parlement is foorthwith summoned
In Richards name; whereby they might pretend
A forme, to grace disorder, and a showe
Of holy right, the right to ouerthrowe.
96
Order, how much predominant art thou!
That if but onely thou pretended art;
How soone, deceiv'd mortalitie doth bow
To follow thine, as still the better part!
Tis thought, that reuerent Forme will not allow
Iniquitie, or sacred right peruart.
Within our soules, since then thou dwell'st so strong;
How ill do they, that vse thee, to do wrong!
97
So ill did they, that in this formall course
Sought to establish a deformed right:
Who might as well effected it by force;
But that men hold it wrong, what's wrought by might.
Offences vrg'd in publique are made worse:
The shew of iustice aggrauates despight.
“The multitude, that looke not to the cause,
“Rest satisfied, so it seeme done by lawes.
98
And now they diuerse articles obiect
Of rigor, malice, priuate fauourings,
Exaction, riot, falsehood, and neglect;
Crimes done, but sildome answered by Kings:
Which Subiectes doe lament, but not correct.
And all these faults, which Lancaster now brings
Against a King, must be his owne, when hee,
By vrging others sinnes, a King shall be.
99
For, all that was most odious was deuis'd,
And publisht in these articles abrode.
All th'errours of his youth were here compris'd,
Calamitie with obloquie to lode:
And more to make him publikely despis'd,
Libels, inuectiues, rayling rimes, were sow'd
Among the vulgar, to prepare his fall
With more applause and good consent of all.
100
Looke how the day-hater, Mineruas bird,
Whil'st priuiledg'd with darknes and the night,
Doth liue secure t'himselfe, of others feard;
If but by chaunce discouered in the light,
How doth each little Fowle (with enuie stirr'd)
Call him to iustice, vrge him with despight;
Summon the feathered flockes of all the wood,
To come to scorne the tyrant of their blood:
101
So fares this King, lay'd open to disgrace,
Whil'st euerie mouth full of reproche inuayes;
And euerie base detractor, in this case,
Vpon th'aduantage of misfortune playes:
Downe-falling Greatnes, vrged on apace,
Was followed-hard, by all disgracefull wayes;
Now in the point t'accelerate an end,
Whil'st miserie had no meanes to defend.
102
Vpon those articles in Parlement
So haynous made, inforc't, and vrg'd so hard,
He was adiudg'd vnfit for gouernment,
And of all regal powre and rule debarr'd:
For, who durst contradict the Dukes intent?
Or, if they durst, should patiently be heard?
Desire of change, old wrongs, new hopes, fresh feare,
Being far the maior part, the cause must beare.
103
Yet must we thinke, that some which saw the course
(The better fewe, whom passion made not blinde)
Stood careful lookers-on, with sad commorse,
Amaz'd to see what headlong rage design'd:
And, in a more considerate discourse
Of tragicall euentes, thereof diuin'd;
And would excuse and pittie those defects,
Which, with such hate, the aduerse parte obiects:
104
“Saying, better yeeres might worke a better care,
“And time might well haue cur'd what was amisse;
“Since all these faults fatall to Greatnes are,
“And worse deserts haue not beene punisht thus:
“But yet in this, the heauens, we feare, prepare
“Confusion for our sinnes, aswell as his;
“And his calamitie beginneth our:
“For, he his owne, and we abus'd his powre.
105
Thus murmur'd they; when to the king were sent
Certaine who might perswade him to forsake
And leaue his Crowne, and with his free consent
A voluntarie Resignation make;
Since that he could no other way preuent
These dangers which he else must needes partake:
For, not to yeeld, to what feare would constraine,
Would barre the hope of life, that did remaine.
106
And yet this scarce could worke him to consent
To yeeld vp that so soone, men hold so deare.
Why, let him take (sayd he) the gouernement,
And let me yet the name, the title beare:
Leaue me that shewe, and I wil be content;
And let them rule and gouerne without feare.
What, can they not my shadow now indure,
When they of all the rest do stand secure?
107
Let me hold that, I aske no other good:
Nay, that I will hold; Henrie do thy worst,
For, ere I yeeld my Crowne, I'le lose my blood;
That blood, that shall make thee and thine accurst.
Thus resolute a while he firmly stood,
Till loue of life, and feare of being forc't,
Vanquisht th'innated valour of his minde;
And hope, and friends, so wrought, that he resign'd.
108
Then to the Towre (where he remained) went
The Duke , with all the Peeres in company,
To take his offer with his free consent,
And this his Resignation testifie;
And thereof to informe the Parlement,
That all things might be done more formally,
And men thereby rest better satisfide;
As of an act not forc't, or falsifide.
109
And forth h'is brought vnto th'accomplishment,
Deckt with the Crowne in princely robes that day;
Like as the dead, in other Landes are sent
Vnto their Graues, in all their best aray:
And euen like good, did him this ornament.
For, what he brought, he must not beare away;
But buries there his glory and his name,
Intomb'd both in his owne and others blame.
110
And there vnto th'assembly of these States,
His sorrow for their long indured wrong
Through his abus'd authority relates,
Excuses wish confessions mixt among:
And glad he sayes, to finish all debates,
He was to leaue the Rule they sought-for long;
Protesting, if it might be for their good,
He would as gladly sacrifice his blood.
111
There, he his Subiectes all (in generall)
Assoyles and quites of oath and fealtie,
Renounces interest, title, right and all
That appertaind to kingly dignitie;
Subscribes thereto, and doth to witnesse call
Both heauen and earth, and God, & Saints on hie,
To testifie his act, and doth professe
To do the same with most free willingnesse.
112
Tis said, with his owne hands he gaue the Crowne
To Lancaster , and wisht to God he might
Haue better ioy thereof then he had knowne,
And that his power might make it his by right:
And furthermore he crav'd, of all his owne,
But life, to liue apart a priuate wight;
The vanity of Greatnes he had tri'd,
And how vnsurely standes the foote of pride.
113
This brought to passe, the Lords returne with speed,
The Parlement hereof to certifie;
Where, they at large publisht the Kings owne deed,
And forme of his resignement verbally:
And thereupon doth Lancaster proceede
To make his claime vnto the Monarchie;
And shewes the right he hath, both by descent,
And by recouerie, to the gouernement.
114
Which being granted, Canterburie rose
And animates them, by the sacred word,
“In this their course: and by his Text, he showes
“How well they made their choyce of such a Lord;
“Who, as a man was able to dispose
“And guide the State: and how the royall sworde
“Ought to be at a mans commandement;
“Not at a childes, or one as impotent.
115
“Since, when the greatnes of his charge exceedes
“The smallnesse of his powers, he must collate
“The same on others: whence, sayes he, proceedes
“This rauenous expilation of the State;
“Whence no man any more the publike heedes,
“Then so much as imports his priuate state.
“ Our Health is from our head: if that be ill,
“Distemp'red, faint, and weake, all the rest will.
116
“Then to the present, all his speach he drawes,
“And shewes what admirable parts abound
“In this braue Prince; being fit to giue them lawes,
“Fit for his valour, fit for iudgement sound.
And Lancaster , indeed I would thy cause
Had had as lawfull and as sure a ground,
As had thy vertues, and thy noble hart,
Ordaind, and borne for an Imperial part.
117
Then had not that confus'd succeeding Age
Our fieldes ingrayn'd with bloud, our riuers dy'd
With purple-streaming woundes of our owne rage,
Nor seene our Princes slaughtred, Peeres destroyd.
Then hadst not thou, deare Countrie, com'n to vvage
Warre vvith thy selfe, nor those afflictions try'd
Of all consuming discorde here so long;
Too mightie novv, against thy selfe too strong.
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BOOKE.
1
I N dearth of faith, and scarcitie of friendes,
The late great mighty Monarch, on the shore
In th'vtmost corner of his Land, attendes
To call backe false obedience, fled before;
Toyles, and in vaine his toyle, and labour spendes:
More harts he sought to gaine, he lost the more:
All turn'd their faces to the rising sunne,
And leaue his setting-fortune, night begunne.
2
Percy , how soone, by thy example led,
The household traine forsooke their wretched Lord!
When, with thy staffe of charge dishonoured,
Thou brak'st thy fayth, not steward of thy word,
And tookst his part that after tooke thy head;
When thine owne hand had strengthned first his sword.
“For, such great merits do vpbraid, and call
“For great reward, or thinke the great too smal.
3
And Kings loue not to be beholding ought:
Which makes their chiefest friends oft speed the worst.
For, those, by whom their fortunes haue bin wrought,
Put them in minde of what they were at first
Whose doubtfull faith if once in question brought,
Tis thought they will offend because they durst:
And taken in a fault are neuer spar'd;
“Being easier to reuenge, then to reward.
4
And thus these mightie actors, sonnes of change,
These partizanes of factions, often tri'd;
That, in the smoake of Innouations strange,
Builde huge vncertaine plots of vnsure pride:
And, on the hazard of a bad exchange,
Haue ventur'd all the stocke of life beside;
“Whilst Princes, rais'd, disdaine to haue bin rais'd
“By those whose helpes deserue not to be prais'd.
5
But thus is Richard left, and all alone
Saue with th'vnarmed title of his right;
And those braue troupes, his fortune-followers gone,
And all that pompe (the complements of might)
Th'amuzing shadowes that are cast vpon
The state of Princes, to beguile the sight,
All vanisht cleane, and only frailty left;
Himselfe, of all, besides himselfe, berest:
6
Like when some great Colossus , whose strong base
Or mightie props are shrunk or sunke away,
Fore-shewing ruine, threatning all the place
That in the danger of his fall doth stay,
All straight to better safetie flocke apace;
None rest to helpe the ruine, while they may.
“The perill great, and doubtfull the redresse,
“Men are content to leaue Right in distresse.
7
And looke, how Thames , inricht with many a Flood,
And goodly Riuers (that haue made their Graues,
And buried both their names and all their good
Within his greatnes, to augment his waues)
Glides on, with pompe of Waters, vnwithstood,
Vnto the Ocean (which his tribute craues)
And layes vp all his wealth, within that powre,
Which in it selfe all greatnes doth deuowre:
8
So flocke the mighty, with their following traine,
Vnto the all-receiuing Bullingbrooke :
Who wonders at himselfe, how hee should gaine
So many harts as now his partie tooke;
And with what ease, and with how slender paine,
His fortune giues him more then he could looke:
What he imagind neuer could be wrought
Is powrd vpon him, farre beyond his thought.
9
So, often, things which seeme at first in showe,
Without the compasse of accomplishment,
Once vent'red on, to that successe do growe,
That euen the Authors do admire th'euent;
So many meanes which they did neuer knowe
Do second their designes, and do present
Straunge vnexpected helps, and chiefly then
When th'Actors are reputed worthy men.
10
And Richard , who lookt Fortune in the backe,
Sees headlong-lightness running from the right,
Amazed standes to note how great a wracke
Of faith, his riots caus'd, what mortall spight
They beare him, who did law and iustice lacke;
Sees how concealed hate breakes out in sight,
And feare-depressed enuie (pent before)
When fit occasion thus vnlockt the dore.
11
Like when some mastiue whelpe, dispos'd to play,
A whole confused heard of beastes doth chace,
Which with one vile consent run all away;
If any hardier then the rest in place
But offer head, that idle feare to stay,
Backe straight the daunted chaser turnes his face,
And all the rest (with bold example led)
As fast run on him, as before they fled:
12
So, with this bold opposer, rushes-on
This many-headed monster, Multitude :
And he, who late was feard, is set vpon,
And by his owne ( Actæon -like) pursu'd;
His owne, that had all loue and awe forgone:
Whom breath and shadowes onely did delude,
And newer hopes, which promises perswade;
Though rarely men keepe promises so made.
13
Which when he saw; thus to himselfe complaines:
“O why do you, fond, false-deceiued, so
“Run headlong to that change that nothing gaines,
“But gaine of sorrow, onely change of wo?
“Which is all one, if he be like who raignes:
“Why will you buy, with blood, what you forgoe?
“Tis nought, but shewes, that Ignorance esteemes:
“The thing possest is not the thing it seemes.
14
“And when the sinnes of Bullingbrooke shall be
“As great as mine, and you vnanswered
“In these your hopes; then may you wish for me
“Your lawfull Sov'raigne, from whose faith you fled;
“And, grieued in your soules, the error see
“That shining promises had shadowed:
“As th'humorous sicke, remouing, finde no ease,
“When changed Chambers change not the disease.
15
“Then shall you finde this name of Libertie
“(The watch-word of Rebellion euer vs'd;
“The idle eccho of Vncertaintie,
“That euermore the simple hath abus'd)
“But new-turnd Seruitude and Miserie;
“And euen the same and worse, before refus'd.
“Th'aspirer once attaind vnto the top,
“Cuts off those meanes by which himselfe got vp.
16
“And with a harder hand, and streighter raine,
“Doth curbe that loosenes he did finde before;
“Doubting th'occasion like might serue againe,
“His owne example makes him feare the more.
“Then, ô iniurious Land, what dost thou gaine
“To aggrauate thine owne afflictions store?
“Since thou must needs obay Kings gouernement;
“And no rule, euer yet, could all content.
17
“What if my youth hath offered vp to lust
“Licentious fruites of indiscreet desires,
“When idle heate of vainer yeeres did thrust
“That furie on: yet now when it retires
“To calmer state, why should you so distrust
“To reape that good whereto mine age aspires?
“The youth of Princes haue no boundes for sinne,
“Vnlesse themselues do make them boundes within.
18
“Who sees not, that sees ought (wo worth the while)
“The easie way, that Greatnesse hath to fall?
“Enuirond with deceit, hemm'd-in with guile,
“Sooth'd vp in flatterie, fawned on of all:
“Within his owne, liuing as in exile;
“Heares but with others eares, or not at all:
“And euen is made a prey vnto a fewe,
“Who locke vp grace that would to other shewe:
19
“And who (as let in lease) do farme the Crowne,
“And ioy the vse of Maiestie and might;
“Whil'st we hold but the shadow of our owne,
“Pleas'd with vaine shewes, and dallied with delight:
“They, as huge vnproportion'd mountaines, growne
“Betweene our land and vs, shadowing our light,
“Bereaue the rest of ioy, and vs of loue,
“And keepe downe all, to keepe themselues aboue.
20
“Which wounds, with griefe, poore vnrespected zeale,
“When grace holdes no proportion in the parts;
“When distribution, in the Common-weale,
“Of charge and honour due to good desarts
“Is stopt; when others greedie hands must deale
“The benefite that Maiestie imparts:
“What good we meant, comes gleaned home but light,
“Whilst we are robd of prayse, they of their right.
21
Thus he complaind; when, lo, from Lancaster
(The new intit'led Duke) with order sent
Arriv'd Northumberland , as to conferre
And make relation of the Dukes intent:
And offred there, if that he would referre
The controuersie vnto Parlement,
And punish those that had abus'd the State,
As causers of this vniuerfall hate;
22
And also see that Iustice might be had
On those the Duke of Glosters death procur'd,
And such remov'd from Councell as were bad;
His cofin Henry would, he there assur'd,
On humble knees before his Grace be glad
To aske him pardon, to be well secur'd,
And haue his right and grace resto'rd againe:
The which was all he labour'd to obtaine.
23
And therefore doth an enterparle exhort,
Perswades him leaue that vnbeseeming place,
And with a princely hardinesse resort
Vnto his people, that attend his Grace:
They meant his publique good, and not his hurt;
And would most ioyfull be to see his face:
He layes his soule to pledge, and takes his Oath,
The ost of Christ, an ostage for his troth.
24
This proffer, with such protestations, made
Vnto a King that so neere danger stood,
Was a sufficient motiue to perswade,
When no way else could shew a face so good:
Th'vnhonourable meanes of safety, bade
Danger accept, what Maiesty withstood.
“When better choyses are not to be had,
“We needes must take the seeming best of bad.
25
Yet standes he in doubt, a while, what way to take
Conferring with that small remaining troope
Fortune had left; which neuer would forsake
Their poore distressed Lord, nor neuer stoope
To any hopes the stronger part could make.
Good Carlile, Ferby , and Sir Stephen Scroope ,
With that most worthy Montague , were all
That were content with Maiesty to fall.
26
Time spare, and make not sacrilegious theft
Vpon so memorable constancie:
Let not succeeding Ages be bereft
Of such examples of integritie:
Nor thou magnanimous Leigh must not be left
In darknesse, for thy rare fidelitie;
To saue thy faith, content to lose thy head;
That reuerent head, of good men honoured.
27
Nor will my Conscience I should iniury
Thy memorie most trusty Ienico ,
For b'ing not ours; though wish that Gasconie
Claym'd not, for hers, the faith we reuerence so;
That England might haue this small companie
Onely to her alone, hauing no moe:
But le'ts diuide this good betwixt vs both,
Take she thy birth, and we will haue thy troth.
28
“Graue Montague , whom long experience taught
“In either fortune, thus aduis'd his King:
“ Deare Sou'raigne know, the matter that is sought,
“Is onely now your Maiesty to bring
“(From out of this poore safetie you haue got)
“Into theyr hands, that else hold euery thing:
“For, now, but onely you they want, of all;
“And wanting you, they nothing theirs can call.
29
“Here haue you craggie Rocks to take your part;
“That neuer will betray their faith to you:
“These trusty Mountaines here will neuer start,
“But stand t'vpbraid their shame that are vntrue.
“Here may you fence your safetie with small art,
“Against the pride of that confused Crew:
“If men will not, these verie Cliffes will fight,
“And be sufficient to defend your right.
30
“Then keepe you here, and here shall you behold,
“Within short space, the slyding faith of those
“That cannot long their resolution hold,
“Repent the course their idle rashnesse chose:
“For, that same mercenarie faith (they sold)
“With least occasions discontented growes,
“And insolent those voluntarie bands;
“Presuming how, by them, he chiefly stands.
31
“And how can he those mightie troupes sustaine
“Long time, where now he is, or any where?
“Besides, what discipline can he retaine
“Whereas he dares not keepe them vnder feare,
“For feare to haue them to reuolt againe?
“So that it selfe when Greatnesse cannot beare,
“With her owne waight, must needes confus'dly fall,
“Without the helpe of other force at all.
32
“And hither to approche hee will not dare;
“Where deserts, rockes, and hilles, no succours giue;
“Where desolation, and no comforts are;
“Where few can do no good, many not liue.
“Besides, we haue the Ocean to prepare
“Some other place, if this should not relieue:
“So shall you tire his force, consume his strength,
“And weary all his followers, out, at length.
33
“Doe but referre to time, and to small time;
“And infinite occasions you shall finde
“To quaile the Rebell, euen in the prime
“Of all his hopes, beyond all thought of minde:
“For, many (with the conscience of the crime)
“In colder blood will curse what they design'd:
“And bad successe, vpbrayding their ill fact,
“Drawes them, whom others draw, from such an act.
34
“For, if the least imagin'd ouerture
“But of conceiv'd reuolt men once espie;
“Straight shrinke the weake, the great will not indure,
“Th'impatient run, the discontented flie:
“The friend his friends example doth procure,
“And all togither haste them presently
“Some to their home, some hide: others, that stay,
“To reconcile themselues, the rest betray.
35
“What hope haue you, that euer Bullingbrooke
“Will liue a Subiect, that hath tri'd his fate?
“Or what good reconcilement can you looke,
“Where he must alwayes feare, and you must hate?
“And neuer thinke that he this quarrell tooke
“To reobtaine thereby his priuate state.
“T'was greater hopes, that hereto did him call:
“And he will thrust for all, or else lose all.
36
“Nor trust this suttle Agent , nor his oth.
“You knowe his faith: you tri'd it before hand.
“His fault is death: and now to lose his troth,
“To saue his life, he will not greatly stand.
“Nor trust your kinsmans proffer; since you, both
“Shew, blood in Princes is no stedfast band.
“What though he hath no title? he hath might:
“That makes a title, where there is no right.
37
Thus he: when that good Bishop thus replies,
Out of a minde that quiet did affect:
“My Lord, I must confesse, as your case lies,
“You haue great cause your Subiects to suspect,
“And counterplot against their subtelties,
“Who all good care and honestie neglect;
“And feare the worst what insolence may do,
“Or armed fury may incense them to.
38
“But yet, my Lord, feare may aswell transport
“Your care, beyond the truth of what is meant;
“As otherwise neglect may fall too short,
“In not examining of their intent:
“But, let vs weigh the thing which they exhort.
“Tis Peace, Submission, and a Parlement:
“Which, how expedient 'tis for either part,
“T were good we iudg'd with an vnpartiall hart.
39
“And first, for you my Lord, in griefe we see
“The miserable case wherein you stand;
“Voyde here of succour, helpe, or maiestie,
“On this poore promontorie of your Land:
“And where how long a time your Grace may be
“(Expecting what may fall into your hand)
“Wee know not; since th'euent of things do lie
“Clos'd vp in darkenes, farre from mortall eye.
40
“And how vnfit it were, you should protract
“Long time, in this so dangerous disgrace?
“As though that you good spirit and courage lackt
“To issue out of this opprobrious place:
“When euen the face of Kings do oft exact
“Feare and remorse in faultie subiects base;
“And longer stay a great presumption drawes
“That you were guilty, or did doubt your cause.
41
“What Subiects euer so inrag'd would dare
“To violate a Prince, t'offend the blood
“Of that renowmed race, by which they are
“Exalted to the height of all their good?
“What if some things by chaunce misguided were,
“Which they haue now rebelliously withstood?
“They neuer will proceed with that despight
“To wracke the State, and to confound the right.
42
“Nor doe I think that Bullingbrooke can bee
“So blind-ambitious, to affect the Crowne;
“Hauing himselfe no title, and doth see
“Others, if you should fayle, must keepe him downe.
“Besides, the Realme, though mad, will neuer gree
“To haue a right succession ouerthrowne;
“To rayse confusion vpon them and theirs,
“By preiudicing true and lawfull heires.
43
“And now it may be, fearing the successe
“Of his attemptes, or with remorse of minde,
“Or else distrusting secret practises,
“He would be glad his quarrell were resign'd;
“So that there were some orderly redresse
“In those disorders which the Realme did finde:
“And this, I thinke, he now sees were his best;
“Since farther actions further but vnrest.
44
“And, for th'impossibilitie of peace
“And reconcilement, which my Lord obiects;
“I thinke, when doing iniurie shall cease
“(The cause pretended) then surcease th'effects:
“Time and some other Actions may increase
“As may diuert the thought of these respects;
“Others law of forgetting iniuries
“May serue our turne in like calamities.
45
“And for his oath, in conscience, and in sense,
“True honour would not so be found vntrue,
“Nor spot his blood with such a foule offence
“Against his soule, against his God, and you.
“Our Lord forbid, that ever with th'expence
“Of heauen and heauenly ioyes, that shall insue,
“Mortalitie should buy this little breath,
“T'indure the horror of eternall death.
46
“And therefore, as I thinke, you safely may
“Accept this proffer; that determine shall
“All doubtfull courses by a quiet way,
“Needfull for you, fit for them, good for all.
“And here, my Sov'raigne, to make longer stay
“T'attend for what you are vnsure will fall,
“May slippe th'occasion, and incense their will:
“For, Feare, that's wiser then the truth, doth ill.
47
Thus he perswades, out of a zealous minde;
Supposing, men had spoken as they ment:
And, vnto this, the King likewise inclin'd:
As wholly vnto peace, and quiet bent:
And yeeldes himselfe to th'Earle, goes, leaues-behind
His safetie, Scepter, Honor, Gouernement:
For, gone, all's gone: he is no more his owne;
And they rid quite of feare, he of the Crowne.
48
A place there is, where proudly rais'd there stands
A huge aspiring Rock, neighb'ring the Skies;
Whose surly brow imperiously commaunds
The Sea his boundes, that at his proud feete lies:
And spurnes the waues, that in rebellious bands
Assault his Empire, and against him rise:
Vnder whose craggy gouernment, there was
A niggard narrow way for men to passe.
49
And here, in hidden cliffes, concealed lay
A troope of armed men, to intercept
The vnsuspecting King, that had no way
To free his foote, that into danger stept.
The dreadfull Ocean , on the one side, lay:
The hard-incroching Mountaine th'other kept:
Before him, he beheld his hateful foes:
Behind him, trayterous enemies inclose.
50
Enuiron'd thus, the Earle begins to cheere
His al-amased Lord, by him betrayde;
Bids him take courage, ther's no cause of feare,
These troopes, but there to guard him safe, were layd.
To whom the King; What neede so many here?
This is against your oath, my Lord, he said.
But, now hee sees in what distresse he stood:
To striue, was vaine; t'intreat, would do no good.
51
And therefore on with careful hart he goes;
Complaines (but, to himselfe) sighes, grieues, and freats;
At Rutland dines, though feedes but on his woes:
The griefe of minde hindred the minde of meats.
For, sorrow, shame, and feare, scorne of his foes,
The thought of what he was, and what now threats,
Then what he should, and now what he hath done,
Musters confused passions all in one.
52
To Flint , from thence, vnto a restless bed,
That miserable night, he comes conuayd;
Poorely prouided, poorely followed,
Vncourted, vnrespected, vnobayd:
Where, if vncertaine sleepe but hoouered
Ouer the drooping cares that heauy weigh'd;
Millions of figures, fantasie presents
Vnto that sorrow, wakened griefe augments.
53
His new misfortune makes deluding sleepe
Say 'twas not so (False dreames the trueth denie).
Wherewith he starts; feels waking cares do creepe
Vpon his soule, and giues his dreame the lie;
Then sleepes againe: and then againe, as deepe
Deceites of darknes mocke his miserie.
So hard believ'd was sorrow in her youth:
That he thinks truth was dreams, & dreams were truth.
54
The morning light presents vnto his view
(Walking vpon a turret of the place)
The trueth of what hee sees is prov'd too true;
A hundred thousand men, before his face,
Came marching on the shore, which thither drew:
And, more to aggrauate his great disgrace,
Those he had wronged, or done to them despight,
(As if they him vpbrayd) came first in sight.
55
There might hee see that false forsworne vile crue,
Those shameless agents of vnlawfull lust,
His Pandars, Parasites (people vntrue
To God and man, vnworthy any trust)
Preacing vnto that fortune that was new,
And with vnblushing faces formost thrust;
As those that still with prosperous fortune sort,
And are as borne for Corte, or made in Cort.
56
There hee beheld, how humbly diligent
New Adulation was to be at hand;
How ready Falsehood stept; how nimbly went
Base pick-thank Flattery, and preuents Command:
Hee saw the great obay, the graue consent,
And all with this new-rays'd Aspirer stand;
But, which was worst, his owne part acted there,
Not by himselfe; his powre, not his, appeare.
57
Which whilst he view'd, the Duke he might perceiue
Make towards the Castle, to an interview.
Wherefore he did his contemplation leaue,
And downe into some fitter place withdrew;
Where now he must admitte, without his leaue,
Him, who before with all submission due
Would haue beene glad, t'attend, and to prepare
The grace of audience, with respectiue care.
58
Who now being come in presence of his king
(Whether the sight of Maiestie did breed
Remorse of what he was incompassing,
Or whether but to formalize his deed)
He kneeles him downe with some astonishing,
Rose; kneeles againe: (for, craft wil still exceed)
When-as the king approch't, put off his Hood,
And welcomd him, though wisht him little good.
59
“To whom, the Duke began: My Lord, I knowe
“That both vncall'd, and vnexpected too,
“I haue persumed in this sort to showe
“And seeke the right which I am borne vnto:
“Yet pardon I beseech you, and allow
“Of that constraint, which driues me thus to doo.
“For, since I could not by a fairer course
“Attaine mine owne, I must vse this of force.
60
“Well: so it seemes, deare Cosin, said the King;
“Though you might haue procur'd it otherwise:
“And I am here content, in euery thing
“To right you, as your selfe shal best deuise:
“And God voutsafe, the force that here you bring
“Beget not England greater iniuries.
And so they part: the Duke made haste from thence:
It was no place to ende this difference.
61
Straight towards London , in this heate of pride,
They forward set; as they had fore-decreed:
With whom, the Captiue King constraind must ride,
Most meanely mounted on a simple Steed:
Degraded of all grace and ease beside,
Thereby neglect of all respect to breed.
For, th'ouer-spreading pompe of prouder might
Must darken vveaknes, and debase his sight.
62
Approaching neere the Cittie, hee was met
With all the sumptuous shewes ioy could deuise:
Where new-desire to please did not forget
To passe the vsuall pompe of former guise.
Striuing Applause, as out of prison let,
Runnes-on, beyond all bounds, to nouelties:
And voyce, and hands, and knees, and all do now
A strange deformed forme of welcome showe.
63
And manifold Confusion running greetes,
Shoutes, cries, claps hands, thrusts, striues and presses neere:
Houses impov'risht were, t'inrich the streetes,
And streetes left naked, that (vnhappie) were
Plac't from the sight where Joy with Wonder meetes;
Where all, of all degrees, striue to appeare;
Where diuers-speaking Zeale one murmure findes,
In vndistinguisht voyce to tell their mindes.
64
He that in glorie of his fortune sate,
Admiring what hee thought could neuer be,
Did feele his blood within salute his state,
And lift vp his reioycing soule, to see
So many hands and hearts congratulate
Th'aduancement of his long-desir'd degree;
When, prodigall of thankes, in passing by,
He resalutes them all, with chearefull eye.
65
Behind him, all aloofe, came pensiue on
The vnregarded King; that drooping went
Alone, and (but for spight) scarce lookt vpon:
Iudge, if hee did more enuie, or lament.
See what a wondrous worke this day is done;
Which th'image of both fortunes doth present:
In th'one, to shew the best of glories face;
In th'other, worse then worst of all disgrace.
66
Novv Isabell , the young afflicted Queene
(Whose yeares had neuer shew'd her but delights,
Nor louely eyes before had euer seene
Other then smiling ioyes, and ioyfull sights;
Borne great, matcht great, liv'd great, and euer beene
Partaker of the worlds best benefits)
Had plac't her selfe, hearing her Lord should passe
That way, where she vnseene in secret was;
68
Sicke of delay, and longing to behold
Her long-mist Loue in fearefull ieoperdies:
To whom, although it had, in sort, beene told
Of their proceeding, and of his surprize;
Yet thinking they would neuer be so bold
To lead their Lord in any shamefull wise,
But rather would conduct him as their King;
As seeking but the States reordering.
69
And foorth shee lookes, and notes the formost traine;
And grieues to view some there she wisht not there:
Seeing the chiefe not come, stayes, lookes againe;
And yet she sees not him that should appeare:
Then backe she stands, and then desires as faine
Againe to looke, to see if hee were neere:
At length a glittering troupe farre off she spies,
Perceiues the throng, and heares the shouts and cries.
70
Lo, yonder now at length he comes, sayth shee:
Looke, my goode women, where he is in sight:
Do you not see him? yonder, that is hee,
Mounted on that white Courser, all in white,
There where the thronging troupes of people bee;
I know him by his seate, he sits s'vpright:
Lo, now he bowes: deare Lord, with what sweet grace!
How long, haue I longd to behold that face!
71
O what delight my hart takes by mine eye!
I doubt me, when he comes but something neere,
I shall set wide the window: what care I
Who doth see me, so him I may see cleare?
Thus doth false ioy delude her wrongfully
(Sweete Lady) in the thing she held so deare.
For, neerer come, she findes she had mistooke;
And him she markt, was Henrie Bullingbrooke .
72
Then Enuie takes the place in her sweet eyes,
Where Sorrow had prepar'd her selfe a seat:
And words of wrath, from whence complaints should rise,
Proceed from egre lookes, and browes that threat:
Traytor, saith shee; ist thou, that in this wise
To braue thy Lord and King, art made so great?
And haue mine eyes done vnto me this wrong,
To looke on thee? for this, staid I so long?
73
Ah, haue they grac't a periur'd Rebell so?
Well; for their errour I will weepe them out,
And hate the tongue defil'd, that praysde my foe,
And loath the minde, that gaue me not to doubt:
What? haue I added shame vnto my woe?
He looke no more: Ladies, looke you about,
And tell me if my Lord be in this traine;
Least my betraying eyes should erre againe.
74
And in this passion turnes her selfe away:
The rest looke all, and carefull note each wight;
Whil'st she, impatient of the least delay,
Demaundes againe; And what, not yet in sight?
Where is my Lord? What, gone some other way?
I muse at this. O God, graunt all goe right:
Then to the window goes againe at last,
And sees the chiefest traine of all was past;
75
And sees not him her soule desir'd to see:
And yet hope, spent, makes her not leaue to looke.
At last, her loue-quicke eyes, which ready be,
Fastens on one; whom though she neuer tooke
Could be her Lord; yet that sad cheere which hee
Then shew'd, his habit and his woful looke,
The grace he doth in base attire retaine,
Caus'd her she could not from his sight refraine.
76
What might he be, she said, that thus alone
Rides pensiue in this vniuersall ioy?
Some I perceiue, as well as we, do mone:
All are not pleas'd with euery thing this day.
It may be, hee laments the wrong is done
Vnto my Lord, and grieues; as well he may.
Then he is some of ours: and we, of right,
Must pittie him, that pitties our sad plight.
77
But stay: ist not my Lord himselfe I see?
In truth, if 'twere not for his base aray,
I verily should thinke that it were hee;
And yet his basenes doth a grace bewray:
Yet God forbid; let me deceiued be,
And be it not my Lord, although it may:
Let my desire make vowes against desire;
And let my sight approue my sight a lier.
78
Let me not see him, but himselfe; a King:
For so he left me; so he did remoue.
This is not he: this feeles some other thing;
A passion of dislike, or else of loue.
O yes; 'tis he: that princely face doth bring
The euidence of Maiestie to prooue:
That face, I haue conferr'd, which now I see,
With that within my heart, and they agree.
79
Thus as she stood assur'd, and yet in doubt;
Wishing to see, what seene she griev'd to see;
Hauing beliefe, yet faine would be without;
Knowing, yet striuing not to know 'twas hee:
Her heart relenting, yet her heart so stout
As would not yeeld to thinke what was, could be:
Till, quite condemn'd by open proofe of sight,
Shee must confesse; or else denie the light.
80
For, whether loue in him did sympathize,
Or chaunce so wrought, to manifest her doubt;
Euen iust before, where she thus secret pries,
He stayes, and with cleare face lookes all about;
When she: Tis, ô, too true; I know his eyes:
Alas, it is my owne deare Lord cries out:
And, with that crie, sinks downe vpon the flore:
Abundant griefe lackt words to vtter more.
81
Sorrow keepes full possession in her heart,
Lockes it within, stops vp the way of breath,
Shuts senses out of doore from euerie part;
And so long holdes there, as it hazardeth
Oppressed Nature, and is forc't to part,
Or else must be constrain'd to stay with death:
So, by a sigh, it lets in sense againe;
And sense, at length, giues words leaue to complaine.
82
Then, like a torrent had beene stopt before,
Teares, sighes, and words, doubled togither flowe;
Confus'dly striuing whether should do more,
The true intelligence of griefe to showe.
Sighes hindred words: words perisht in their store:
Both, intermixt in one, together growe.
One would do all: the other, more then's part;
Being both sent equall Agents, from the hart.
83
At length, when past the first of sorrowes worst,
When calm'd confusion better forme affordes;
Her heart commands, her words should passe out first,
And then her sighes should interpoint her words;
The whiles her eyes out into teares should burst:
This order with her sorrow she accordes;
Which, orderless, all forme of order brake:
So, then began her wordes, and thus she spake;
84
What? dost thou thus returne againe to mee?
Are these the triumphs, for thy victories?
Is this the glorie thou dost bring with thee,
From that vnhappie Irish enterprise?
And haue I made so many vowes to see
Thy safe returne, and see thee in this wise?
Is this the lookt-for comfort thou dost bring?
To come a Captiue, that wentst out a King?
85
And yet, deare Lord, though thy vngratefull Land
Hath left thee thus; yet I will take thy part:
I doo remaine the same, vnder thy hand;
Thou still dost rule the kingdome of my hart:
If all be lost, that gouernment doth stand;
And that shall neuer from thy rule depart:
And so thou bee, I care not how thou bee:
Let Greatnes goe; so it goe without thee.
86
And welcome come, how-so vnfortunate;
I will applaud what others do despise:
I loue thee for thy selfe, not for thy State:
More then thy selfe, is what without thee, lies:
Let that more goe, if it be in thy fate:
And hauing but thy selfe, it will suffize:
I married was not to thy Crowne, but thee;
And thou, without a Crowne, all one to mee.
87
But what do I, heere lurking idlie, mone
And wayle apart, and in a single part
Make seuerall griefe; which should be both in one;
The touch being equall of each others hart.
Ah, no: sweet Lord, thou must not mone alone.
For, without me, thou art not all thou art;
Nor my teares, without thine, are fully teares:
For thus vnioyn'd, sorrow but halfe appeares.
88
Ioyne then our plaints, and make our griefe full griefe:
Our state being one, let vs not part our care.
Sorrow hath onely this poore bare reliefe,
To be bemon'd of such as wofull are.
And should I rob thy griefe, and be the thiefe
To steale a priuate part, and seuerall share,
Defrawding sorrow of her perfect due?
No, no, my Lord; I come to helpe thee rue.
89
Then foorth she goes, a close concealed way
(As grieuing to be seene not as she was);
Labors t'attaine his presence all she may:
Which, with most hard a-do, was brought to passe
For, that night, vnderstanding where he lay,
With earnest 'treating she procur'd her Passe
To come to him: Rigor could not denie
Those teares, so poore a suite, or put her by.
90
Entring the chamber, where he was alone
(As one whose former fortune was his shame)
Loathing th'vpbrayding eye of any one
That knew him once, and knowes him not the same:
When hauing giuen expresse command that none
Should presse to him; yet hearing some that came
Turnes angerly about his grieued eyes:
When, lo, his sweete afflicted Queene he spyes.
91
Straight cleares his brow; and with a borrowed smile,
What, my deare Queene? welcome, my deare, he sayes:
And (striuing his owne passion to beguile,
And hide the sorrow which his eye betrayes)
Could speake no more; but wrings her hands, the while:
And then, Sweet Lady; and againe he stayes:
Th'excesse of ioy and sorrow both affordes
Affliction none, or but poore niggard wordes.
92
Shee that was come with a resolved hart,
And with a mouth full stor'd, with wordes well chose;
Thinking, This comfort wil I first impart
Vnto my Lord, and thus my speach dispose:
Then thus Ile say, thus looke, and with this art
Hide mine owne sorrow to relieue his woes;
When being come, all this prov'd nought but winde;
Teares, lookes, and sighes, do only tell her minde.
93
Thus both stood silent and confused so,
Their eyes relating how their hearts did morne:
Both bigge with sorrow, and both great with wo
In labour with what was not to be borne:
This mightie burthen, wherewithall they goe,
Dies vndeliuered, perishes vnborne;
Sorrow makes silence her best Orator,
Where words may make it lesse, not shew it more.
94
But he, whom longer time had learn'd the art
T'indure affliction, as a vsuall touch;
Straines foorth his wordes, and throwes dismay apart,
To rayse vp her, whose passions now were such
As quite opprest her ouercharged hart
(Too small a vessell to containe so much)
And cheeres and mones, and fained hopes doth frame,
As if himselfe beleeu'd, or hop't the same.
95
And now, the while these Princes sorrowed,
Forward Ambition (come so neere her ende)
Sleepes not, nor slippes th'occasion offered,
T'accomplish what it did before intend:
A Parlement is foorthwith summoned
In Richards name; whereby they might pretend
A forme, to grace disorder, and a showe
Of holy right, the right to ouerthrowe.
96
Order, how much predominant art thou!
That if but onely thou pretended art;
How soone, deceiv'd mortalitie doth bow
To follow thine, as still the better part!
Tis thought, that reuerent Forme will not allow
Iniquitie, or sacred right peruart.
Within our soules, since then thou dwell'st so strong;
How ill do they, that vse thee, to do wrong!
97
So ill did they, that in this formall course
Sought to establish a deformed right:
Who might as well effected it by force;
But that men hold it wrong, what's wrought by might.
Offences vrg'd in publique are made worse:
The shew of iustice aggrauates despight.
“The multitude, that looke not to the cause,
“Rest satisfied, so it seeme done by lawes.
98
And now they diuerse articles obiect
Of rigor, malice, priuate fauourings,
Exaction, riot, falsehood, and neglect;
Crimes done, but sildome answered by Kings:
Which Subiectes doe lament, but not correct.
And all these faults, which Lancaster now brings
Against a King, must be his owne, when hee,
By vrging others sinnes, a King shall be.
99
For, all that was most odious was deuis'd,
And publisht in these articles abrode.
All th'errours of his youth were here compris'd,
Calamitie with obloquie to lode:
And more to make him publikely despis'd,
Libels, inuectiues, rayling rimes, were sow'd
Among the vulgar, to prepare his fall
With more applause and good consent of all.
100
Looke how the day-hater, Mineruas bird,
Whil'st priuiledg'd with darknes and the night,
Doth liue secure t'himselfe, of others feard;
If but by chaunce discouered in the light,
How doth each little Fowle (with enuie stirr'd)
Call him to iustice, vrge him with despight;
Summon the feathered flockes of all the wood,
To come to scorne the tyrant of their blood:
101
So fares this King, lay'd open to disgrace,
Whil'st euerie mouth full of reproche inuayes;
And euerie base detractor, in this case,
Vpon th'aduantage of misfortune playes:
Downe-falling Greatnes, vrged on apace,
Was followed-hard, by all disgracefull wayes;
Now in the point t'accelerate an end,
Whil'st miserie had no meanes to defend.
102
Vpon those articles in Parlement
So haynous made, inforc't, and vrg'd so hard,
He was adiudg'd vnfit for gouernment,
And of all regal powre and rule debarr'd:
For, who durst contradict the Dukes intent?
Or, if they durst, should patiently be heard?
Desire of change, old wrongs, new hopes, fresh feare,
Being far the maior part, the cause must beare.
103
Yet must we thinke, that some which saw the course
(The better fewe, whom passion made not blinde)
Stood careful lookers-on, with sad commorse,
Amaz'd to see what headlong rage design'd:
And, in a more considerate discourse
Of tragicall euentes, thereof diuin'd;
And would excuse and pittie those defects,
Which, with such hate, the aduerse parte obiects:
104
“Saying, better yeeres might worke a better care,
“And time might well haue cur'd what was amisse;
“Since all these faults fatall to Greatnes are,
“And worse deserts haue not beene punisht thus:
“But yet in this, the heauens, we feare, prepare
“Confusion for our sinnes, aswell as his;
“And his calamitie beginneth our:
“For, he his owne, and we abus'd his powre.
105
Thus murmur'd they; when to the king were sent
Certaine who might perswade him to forsake
And leaue his Crowne, and with his free consent
A voluntarie Resignation make;
Since that he could no other way preuent
These dangers which he else must needes partake:
For, not to yeeld, to what feare would constraine,
Would barre the hope of life, that did remaine.
106
And yet this scarce could worke him to consent
To yeeld vp that so soone, men hold so deare.
Why, let him take (sayd he) the gouernement,
And let me yet the name, the title beare:
Leaue me that shewe, and I wil be content;
And let them rule and gouerne without feare.
What, can they not my shadow now indure,
When they of all the rest do stand secure?
107
Let me hold that, I aske no other good:
Nay, that I will hold; Henrie do thy worst,
For, ere I yeeld my Crowne, I'le lose my blood;
That blood, that shall make thee and thine accurst.
Thus resolute a while he firmly stood,
Till loue of life, and feare of being forc't,
Vanquisht th'innated valour of his minde;
And hope, and friends, so wrought, that he resign'd.
108
Then to the Towre (where he remained) went
The Duke , with all the Peeres in company,
To take his offer with his free consent,
And this his Resignation testifie;
And thereof to informe the Parlement,
That all things might be done more formally,
And men thereby rest better satisfide;
As of an act not forc't, or falsifide.
109
And forth h'is brought vnto th'accomplishment,
Deckt with the Crowne in princely robes that day;
Like as the dead, in other Landes are sent
Vnto their Graues, in all their best aray:
And euen like good, did him this ornament.
For, what he brought, he must not beare away;
But buries there his glory and his name,
Intomb'd both in his owne and others blame.
110
And there vnto th'assembly of these States,
His sorrow for their long indured wrong
Through his abus'd authority relates,
Excuses wish confessions mixt among:
And glad he sayes, to finish all debates,
He was to leaue the Rule they sought-for long;
Protesting, if it might be for their good,
He would as gladly sacrifice his blood.
111
There, he his Subiectes all (in generall)
Assoyles and quites of oath and fealtie,
Renounces interest, title, right and all
That appertaind to kingly dignitie;
Subscribes thereto, and doth to witnesse call
Both heauen and earth, and God, & Saints on hie,
To testifie his act, and doth professe
To do the same with most free willingnesse.
112
Tis said, with his owne hands he gaue the Crowne
To Lancaster , and wisht to God he might
Haue better ioy thereof then he had knowne,
And that his power might make it his by right:
And furthermore he crav'd, of all his owne,
But life, to liue apart a priuate wight;
The vanity of Greatnes he had tri'd,
And how vnsurely standes the foote of pride.
113
This brought to passe, the Lords returne with speed,
The Parlement hereof to certifie;
Where, they at large publisht the Kings owne deed,
And forme of his resignement verbally:
And thereupon doth Lancaster proceede
To make his claime vnto the Monarchie;
And shewes the right he hath, both by descent,
And by recouerie, to the gouernement.
114
Which being granted, Canterburie rose
And animates them, by the sacred word,
“In this their course: and by his Text, he showes
“How well they made their choyce of such a Lord;
“Who, as a man was able to dispose
“And guide the State: and how the royall sworde
“Ought to be at a mans commandement;
“Not at a childes, or one as impotent.
115
“Since, when the greatnes of his charge exceedes
“The smallnesse of his powers, he must collate
“The same on others: whence, sayes he, proceedes
“This rauenous expilation of the State;
“Whence no man any more the publike heedes,
“Then so much as imports his priuate state.
“ Our Health is from our head: if that be ill,
“Distemp'red, faint, and weake, all the rest will.
116
“Then to the present, all his speach he drawes,
“And shewes what admirable parts abound
“In this braue Prince; being fit to giue them lawes,
“Fit for his valour, fit for iudgement sound.
And Lancaster , indeed I would thy cause
Had had as lawfull and as sure a ground,
As had thy vertues, and thy noble hart,
Ordaind, and borne for an Imperial part.
117
Then had not that confus'd succeeding Age
Our fieldes ingrayn'd with bloud, our riuers dy'd
With purple-streaming woundes of our owne rage,
Nor seene our Princes slaughtred, Peeres destroyd.
Then hadst not thou, deare Countrie, com'n to vvage
Warre vvith thy selfe, nor those afflictions try'd
Of all consuming discorde here so long;
Too mightie novv, against thy selfe too strong.
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