[...]
Our eyes may here a Double Beauty find;
His Face this shewes, his Booke presents his mind,
Which a few Downey minutes have improv'd
To such vast summes of worth, as makes him lov'd:
And as this Shadow now appeareth. His,
That likewise is Heavens Effigies.
PLANTAGENETS TRAGICALL STORY: OR, THE DEATH OF King EDWARD the Fourth: WITH The unnaturall Voyage of Richard the Third, through the Red Sea of his Nephews innocent bloud, to his usurped Crowne.
METAPHRASED BY T.W. Gent.
Prosperum Scelus virtus vocatur. Sen.
LONDON, Printed by M. F. for Richard Tomlins at the Sun and Bible neer Pit-corner. 1649.
TO The truly heroick EDWARD BENLOWES. Esquire.
SIR,
COuld now my Phancies Engineer give fire
To th' pleasing Traines of my select desire!
I down would those unhallow'd Altars turn
Which to your Muses high devotion burn
No thankefull Incense; She triumphs o're Sence,
Vested in gold, bought on the brains expence.
Most pretious mind! who whil'st unsalted heads
Quite uselesse are for Camp, or Arts, or Beads,
Nor ought will court but vice, and ignorance,
Whose souls lie putrifi'd in graves of Sence;
While such on Riots dream; I you admire,
Whom soul-entrancing Calentures inspire,
Melting your braine in spritely Raptures, when
Infectious is the breath of Mushrom men.
Teach, Sir, those mole-ey'd Glow-worms how to scan
Blest measures of the most accomplisht Man.
T. W.
TO The Reader.
Reader,
I Love good company in my solitude, and have been sometimes taken up (with unraveling Times Bottome) amongst our English Chronographs, which I find checquered with such vanety of Actions, and events, as I cannot but admire His pencill, who drawes his lines in the dark. Our Muses Ephemeris was properly calculated for the Meridian of those times, and can have but small influence upon these, being so many degrees distant from their [Page] Horizon. If She should be found guilty of any too light Ayres, to grate upon a serious eare; non à pueris illico &c. may a little excuse; something there will be quod tempus amputet. I wish I may meet with no better genius, then the eyes, and hands of Candor, which will both fairely try, and freely pardon.
Thine T.W.
TO The Reader of the ensuing Poeme, composed by his ingenious friend Captaine T. W.
REader; This Author tells thee hee hath found
A Gentile sport that's neither Hawk nor hound,
Nor Gleeke nor Maw. Here thou maist quickly see
A better Record of Gentility,
Then a long Rowle, where a short five-pound fee
Hath scratcht one out a long-tail'd Pedegree
From Adam downward: Th' onely, Record stood
Not wash'd away with old Deucalion's flood.
He knows no game but study-tables: there
He spends his time: and needs no gamster feare
Who walkes in scarlet. This Historian Rhyme
Is but the offall of his Second time;
His very Recreation: What would'st say,
Might'st thou the works see of his serious day?
The world is not at leisure now to read
The Choice employments of his studious head.
This is no wanton Pastorall to relate
How much the Poets minds degenerate;
For some such Antick baubles thou may'st find
Whose Poems but betray their frothy mind,
And onely serve to let the Reader know
How much the foolish Ape is sunk below
A man: that modesty cannot controule
Him; but he must spue out his wanton soule.
Poor low-borne wormes! that make it their designe
Of life to learne to dresse their bodies fine,
And throw their feet into such figures, as
May tune the differing fashions of that face
That's made the Devils jaylor for to keep
Their souls close pris'ners in a sinfull sleep
To th' great Assize. These female Apes will write
(Sometimes) the dreames of their lascivious night, more time
I'th' morning till their wantons dresse,
Nor so much can they spare to make their Rime
(Except by chance one night they get to bed
Before the Wine hath seis'd their sottish head.)
But being written and read ore and ore
Before the Antick whom it doth adore,
Abroad it comes, with the French fashion'd face
Of the Composer: (And a truer glasse
For the whole sensuall beast there could not bee
To shew his putrid minds deformity.)
A lawrell must his pictured carcass twine,
'Tis but the Bush, to shew the house of wine,
In which he wholly dwells. 'Tis cut in Brasse,
To shew the metall of the Poets face,
That studies sin, and blusheth not to tell
The world, how deep his soul's engag'd to hell.
This must be dedicated unto one
To whom he is debtor for a Virgin Zone.
Reader! this Author's one that doth inherit
(Without a forfeit yet) that noble spirit
That is mans Birthright; One that in the least
Is not inclining yet unto a Beast.
One thing more let me tell thee (friend!) that hee
Nere us'd to vomit out his poetry,
Hee's no such heretick as holds none can
Bee Poet till he leave to bee a man.
This Madrigall's no catch. Here's not a line
But is more essence of the Braine then wine.
Read all, I'th' whole Context thou shalt not meet
A verse but the Author could command his feet,
When it was made, as well as thou doest now.
By this time thou'rt inquisitive to know
Who is this noble Author. Hee is one
That is a man in his Perfection.
Man in his All; Hee's one that needs not be
Beholden to a piece of poetry.
To Beg's Acquaintance with the world, his fame
Cannot bee heightned by his Printed name,
A souldier and a Scholler. One that can
Shew thee what 'tis to be a Gentleman.
I. C. Art. Mag.
TO The happy Author of these Poems.
NOr time has wrinckled with his aged plow
The smoothnesse yet of your unforrow'd brow;
Nor Ages winter snow'd upon your haires
The hoary flakes of youth consuming cares;
Nor is the yeare confounded in your Paines
To feel December in your Aprill veines;
Nor hath Dame nature planted on thy chinne
Agrove for Muses yet to winter in,
Whose vernall shadowes might delight the Graces
To dance their measures in their courtly paces:
Scarse nineteen springs had fortify'd thy limbs
When Mars thee call'd from Muses sweet-tun'd hymns
Midd'st thundring of drums to lead his train,
Till th' angry Sisters thy release did gain
The trees forsake their Orpheus whil'st he playes,
Sweetly attracted by thy choicer layes,
The stones will dance no more, but mortalls be
Perswaded to become like Niobe
By thy Tragedick quill, whose power is
Able to act a Metumorphosis.
I. S. Lincolns-Innt. Gent.
PLANTAGENETS Tragicall Story.
The first book.
ON Mount Parnassus whil'st I sit to sing
Of various accents, from the Thespian spring,
Mixt consort flowes, the streams which by me slide,
In silver waves their echoing notes divide:
The laureate troops in circling rings sit down,
Presenting to this History a Crown.
Then cease delicious numbers to distill
The sowr-sweet dainties of the Paphian hill,
Nor blow in fond Poetick rage, that fire
Which doth so wantonly loose brests inspire;
Nor Fetch Niles Crocodiles dung to blanch the skin
Of art-fair Madam, and her usher in:
My wilde Geography ne're stray'd so farre
To bring Molucea flints to deck her eare.
Deare Muse, disdaine to squander out a toy
With Erycina, or the winged Boy;
Nor sportive infantine delights recall,
But tune Love-sonnets to a Madrigall.
Now must we dive unto th'Tartarean cell,
Where gnawing Envy, and dire Treason dwell;
Where conscience dreads in Soule-betraying weed
The black attempts ambitious States-men breed;
Where Plottings, Turmoyls, Tempests, horrid Feare
Keep Ren-dez-vous in Albions Hemispheare,
As through each part they furiously do thunder,
Candying th'Isles gastly face in cie wonder;
Where times black margent quotes such sad amazes,
As makes Heav'ns selfe pale with astonish'd gazes,
Thick clouds wch lowr'd upon fourth Edwards head,
The flaming ardours of his vertues spread;
The many Rebellions in the beginnig of his reign, and sometime before.
A restlesse race (who ending still begunNew broyss) gave place to this illustrious Sun;
To shew the odds 'twixt Heav'ns etheriall light,
And gloomy fogs of Hells Cimmerian night.
The people (like the Polypus) doffeth hue
To ev'ry object choosing alwaies new;
Princes are rocks, to which this beast is ty'd,
Fetter'd with links of duty to abide;
Let this care for him in their brests be found,
To give him colour, and still keep him bound.
A furious brood of Phansie more then mad,
Camelion-like with ev'ry colour clad;
Whose senselesse sense (by brainsick humors led)
Lies deep enchanted on Ambitions bed.
Simile.
Thus Neptunes subjects in the winter grow
Cold in Alleg'ance, wonted duties show
But chill respects, by th' Tyrant Frost detain'd,
(The Generall of winters forces) chain'd
In ycie shackles; eas'ly made a prey
To this encroaching Monster, till the day
Farre-coasting Phebus takes a nearer view
Of this Vsurper, forced with the crue
Of's darts, and arrowes for to quit the field,
And to the Element its freedome yeeld.
The winters Bassa (mad to see this Rout)
Calls from all Quarters his cold Troops about,
In thunder-bearing dialect to devour
The waters Prince by his united pow'r;
Wing'd with shril trupet winds, flank'd with keen puffs
They justle so with mutuall counterpuffs,
Splitting themselves along the liquid plain,
With dreadfull terrour to the groaning main.
The winds, waves, Whales, Sharkes, Dolphins, all retreat
Whilst (clashing) their congealed armours break.
The drunken Steel (which was at Wakefield rouz'd)
Oft reel'd from field to field, and never hous'd;
Then thundring Mars (the Females horrid dread)
Did light this Islands Taper from his bed
To Herford, Towton, Exham, Barnet grounds
Were rank with noble blood: How many swounds
Had fainting England in few yeares! To look
On blushing pages of her Crimson book,
Might rage an earth quake in a British heart,
Reading the Rubricks of his Countries smart.
Some stirring Spirits, if not often won,
And scowr'd by Favour, rust by Faction:
Simile.
[...]o Child-bigge wives and the green-sicknes maid
Their nat'rall Course restrain'd) are longing said
To seed on chalk, and coals; This loves a slash
Cut in the Brawn of her vext husbands flesh;
The other pines at Feasts, and leaving all
Their wholesome cates, she junkets on a wall,
They (phansy-sick of such a strange disease)
Have feav'rish palats, still unapt to plase.
The Ship with wrack whē tempest-waves did threat
And restles-pity-wanting Stormes had beat,
(Th' Abysses jawes wide gaping to devour)
Arriv'd at last to her long wish'd for Shoar.
Cloud-masked Titan now with splendor cheares
The winter Solstice of the peoples teares;
Fiercenesse relented, and stern Mars grew mild,
Sweet Flora laught, and Ceres was with child
Of plenty; Ianus barr'd his Temple, gage,
And Justice marched in her roab of State;
Ruins rose up before this peacefull Starr,
And Venus doves did build in Mars his Carr.
Fam'd Edward, envies prayse, whose wel-spread art
By Keyes of gentlenesse unlocked hearts,
Stifles small factions by his wiser scorn,
Which forced them to dye so soon as born:
He joyes to see an Olive branch presage
That civill bloods late deluge shall asswage.
(Gall'd with wars yoak which did their shoulders vex)
He layes sost Poultesse to his peoples necks;
That peace and plenty might espouse again,
Kissing each other through his happy reign;
Emperiall vertue guildeth with her flashes
Anoble temper on the coursest ashes,
It sparkles bravely in a Subjects eye,
But beames (Sun-like) incha c'd in Majesty,
Diffusing light, and life to lesser fires,
Each feels the warmth, and silently admires:
So to the lower Levells Zephyr comes,
Simile,
Puffing perfumes of rich Arabian gumms
From Spicy mountaines, pleasingly to chear
The desert-scorched-tyring Traveller.
Thus Blisse distill'd the nectar of her brest,
And lull'd our Albion in a smiling rest;
The blessings of Peace.
No damn'd Assasinate awakes her sleep,
Hearts joyn'd with hands a mutual friendship keep,
The Souldier leaves his winter-blasted bed
For softer plumes, which crowne his easie head:
The rich caparison'd courser dreads no foes,
But chaseth Foxes, or the lightfoot Does,
Makes emulous starts for wagers on the plains,
Thus he more honour, more attendance gains.
Canons are charg'd with Muske, and marches turn
To rev'ling Masks, for iron Tyssue's worn;
In stead of Gunpowder, there now is got
Powder of Cypresse; Pistolets for shot.
The Trumpet's made to sound a dance, and calls
Away the storming siege from stony walls:
With musled mouth the thundring Saker rests,
And the Granadoes nothing breake but jests.
Now Love is Champion, who endures no arms
But strict embraces, kisses for alarms,
So plundring, by the eye, the heart away,
Do's by beleagred Simprings winne the day.
Blunt foyles atone sharp pointed Rapiers now;
The pole-axe turnes a coulter for the plough,
To wrinkle-brow the Gleab; In comfort sing
The feather'd Choristers to the flowry Spring.
Peace (breeding teeth apace) brings plenty too,
Whil'st golden-bearded eares the Syckle woo
To ravish their Virginity, whose tops
Doe bend to fill the Swaines barne-filling hopes:
The full-stiffe-udder'd Cow comes downe the vale
Twice ev'ry day to fill the milkmaids pale;
See Merchants Scours (swift gliding with the wind)
Plough o're the tradefull billowes for to find
An Ophyr coast, with opulency fraught,
The rarities from either Pole are brought
To frame a delicate, to winne the grace
O'th Empresse Albion, whose moist armes embrace
The Oceans dowre: Each forain Shoar presents
The British Queen with choisest Ornaments.
Thus by Love-tokens Ganges wooes our Thame,
Jndus to Severne would espouse her name.
As if that GOD by thee (before accurst)
Would shew the World how 'twas created first.
What though the sweatings of Arabian gumms
Embalme nigh Ayre with delications summs
Of rich perfumes; if in those weeping groves
Millions of Serpents haunt, and poison those
(Inflecting torments upon every sense)
Which glean that fragrant Balme, and Frankincense?
Let th' Eastern Chinese think he grasps within
The royall circuit of his vast paquin
The quintessenced Good of all aboad,
As dreaming that beyond his countries road
The World's a barren Fen, and nought can be
Worth his vain labour in discovery:
And yet how oft amongst them doe they see,
Huge balls of fire down bandied from the skie,
To make such fearefulll ravage, as to choake
Houses, and send up villages in smoake?
Somtimes their Fountain veins (being broached) run
Hurry'ing their Streames to inundation.
But, England! Could these Salvages repent,
Thy blessings (sure) would make them all recant.
Natures owne selfe so doteth on thy love,
Thinks thee the Diamond in the ring of Jove,
Richly fed, coolly fann'd, so nobly stream'd,
Wisely aw'd, bravely mann'd, so sweetly beam'd;
Thy pregnant soil wrought o're with curious cost,
With flow'rs embroid'red, and with woods embost,
With bushes purl'd, with streams of silver lac'd,
Button'd with Hills, with plaited vallies grac'd,
Speakes thee a Tempe, or (as tearm'd by some)
A second Edon, or Elysium.
Alluding to the late unhappy warrs in England.
O, be thy tender Bosome never wreath'dBy salvage armes! why's not the Sword still sheath'd
Most barb'rous, civill (most uncivill!) warrs
Make Britain bleed in most unnat'rall jarrs.
Brave Gallants! Scorn that Romes enchanted palm
Should suck the sweatings of our sacred balm,
Religions oyle, by Europe once admir'd
More then those Gumms from Gileads vales expir'd,
Or for to have your bleeding entrails spell'd
B' Ignatius Wizards, whose strong charms upheld
Saint Peters rivall in a colder sweat
Then e're the Goths, or Vandalls could beget.
Pluto, chain up this new pestif'rous Train,
Let lowest Cells their blasphemies contain,
Which now seem loos'd from the Peruvian Stage
To act their Butch'ries on the Crimson page
Of British story, Slucing forth our blood
By th' gushing torrent of a eivill flood.
These in the world have more confusion wrought,
Then the old Tohu, Bobu could have brought.
Medina, did we scape thy Crescent thus,
That our owne bow should be portentuous?
What strange Salmoneus or Prometheus taught
Cyclopean Artists for to imitate
The forge of Iove, within his shops of wonder,
By brasen-lunged, and fire-breathing thunder?
What metall dev'lls, Angels of death are here,
Like firie Bulls of Colchos? Charon feare
Th' o'recharg'd Canoo; lank Ghosts by shoals doe thus
Float to the crouded shades of Erebus.
The fierce-fire-foaming Steeds of Diomede
Feed on the remnants of Deucalions seed:
Do's Typhon, and Echidna still survive
To bring forth monsters? do'nt Medea live
To charme this frightfull proginy, and to fill
New Constellations by her sacred skill?
Whence is't our mines of iron spawn'd such tooles
For blood-drunk hands to hunt out guiltles soules?
What Vulcan's here, that gives new life to steel?
What Fury? what Erinnys makes a Hell
In Albions fields, carving mens bodies out
To feast Megera; whilst the dear-bought shot
Is paid by endlesse soules, which trembling flie
From off the Lip into Eternity?
Unhappy Island! whom Astrea shuns,
Late made a prey unto thy hostile sons,
Whilst they (like greedy Caniballs) devour
Their mothers Off-spring in a dismall hour
Making her Lap, the Voider. Ha'nt we seen
Some petty Cyclops late in Arms t' have been,
Which little skill what GOD, Religion mean,
Unlesse by this to swear, and that blaspheme;
Oathes are their onely Sacraments, their swords
Their deity, and voucher of their words;
The table for an Altar stands, the dishes
They doe account in stead of Sacrifices.
Their march is swell'd with pride, & when in Arms,
They'r ev'n Barbarians, frighting with their harms
The quiv'ring peasants into sad beliefe,
That they passe Attila the Scythian Chiefe,
Knowing no diff'rence in their lustfull sute
Twixt marr'ed, virgin, and the prostitute;
Playing their gold with full hands, though it be
Mens blood exhausted for their Luxury.
Lions which ope their thunder-scaring jawes,
Bulls goaring through the entrails of the lawes;
Doggs worry one another, Vipers hisse,
Men in their looks death-bearing Basilisks,
Rearing their Trophies in the tear-swoln eyes
Of Widowes, and in Orphans Heav'n-pierc'd cries,
Nought without Peace is holy. Unkind Fate,
Op'ning Pandora's box within our State;
Hope onely stayes, which we (fast clos'd) preserve
As the best Sear-cloth for a feeble nerve.
Some gratious Dolphin now but yeild his back
To save Telemachus from finall wrack;
Then we (Vlysses-like) will not pourtray
Him onely on our gates, but ev'ry way
The ardours of Triumphing hearts shall raise
A never dying Pyramid to his praise:
Wee'll imp his fame upon an aery wing,
Beyond Bootës, and his Teem to sing;
Nor that enough, but mounting higher yet,
Shall Soare, till't bee in the First mover Set.
So, trembling Rome shall quit her Crowns for feare
This second Hanniball is coming neare;
Which (after many an Age) from British Coast
May fully avenge old Carthage angry Ghost.
But sure, scar'd Muse, this Ghost has frighted thee
To lose thy Subject in an Extasie!
My Theame's unvealed now; Muse, smooth thy browes,
And spend no longer on thy stock of woes;
The Sun shal guild our Sphere, and Arms shal cease,
And we will Triumph in a Hymne for Peace.
No more dead corps shall lard our soil again,
Nor Wars make Mummy of the flesh of men;
Discords sha'nt hayle down blowes, nor leaden show'rs
Fright from embraces in our frolick bowrs;
England contemplate this, to ease thy griefe;
In field of bloody gules, a sword in chiefe
No longer's borne, to charge with civill scars
Her argent dy'd in crimson Massacres:
Where mutuall fury swelling brests invade,
Thrill'd by a Cozen-sword, or Brother-blade;
Where Sonne with Father jousts; most horrid fuells
Doth from one belly send up cursed duells.
Edward now heard his smiling Fortune call,
Come, climbe my wheel, and bee'nt afraid to sall.
His Sword which Northward went, returned home
From scourging rudest Swaines of Calydon,
Now brandisht is upon a French designe;
Rather to tast the Gallick blood, then wine;
And make their Flowr-de-luces stand in awe
Of being torne by th' English Lyons pawe:
Whil'st that dissembling
Lewes the eleventh
Lewes tries his witsOn idle toyes, at which brave Honour spits.
The eager hearted Subject, vent'ring stands
Attentive, listning when the Prince commands;
Feeling within his brest a vig'rous heat,
Causing his healthfull Pulses for to beat
A Call to this employment; tedious growne
To heare of others acts and not his owne.
Proud valour leads the vanguard, in this strife
Each would be formost in the losse of life.
Thus have I seen with Steel,
Simile.
and Fury arm'dA gallant squadron, who their brests had warm'd
With a full shout, to sing the Dirge of Foes,
And scarce can stay till they have leave for blowes.
Brave Sp'rits! It were an Enemies pride to die
Under your shining Steel, 'twere Victory;
If I must fall, give me the bravest hand
To broach my brest, in all the Romane Band,
So the same glorious Nard persumes his blade,
Sweetens my ashes in the lower shade.
But what their boasting Phansie thought so sure,
Sly-pilfting Death robb'd in that instant houre.
Vast joyes are dang'rous, thron'd in blisses prime,
Fourth Edward finds the weights of his set time
Not far from ground, & deaths sharp pangs invade
His throbbing heart through ev'ry vein convey'd;
She had before but some short Sallies made,
Some Skirmish did his Fort of clay invade;
But now layes downright siege, untill it must
(Shaken with Feavers batt'ry) fall to dust.
Thus all his warlike preparations turne
Into the peacefull ashes of his Urne.
'Tis safe to walke, as if we trod on yee,
Upon the slipp'ry worlds prosperities;
And alwaies handling them like Crystall glasse,
Fearing they'll breake i'th' lustre of their rayes.
So may you view the white-swell'd sails advancing
From Eastern Inds,
Simile.
o'th'Stately Vessell dancingOn Thetis lap secure; eye-pleasing Calms
Echo in consort with Melodious Shalmes;
The eare-art racted Dolphin nimbly hyes,
The sporting Porpuse meets him, Proteus flies
O're Neptunes watry Bulworks, gently greeting
The Merchants pride, on English narrowes fleeting:
The srollick Master spreads his Flagge abroad
In Triumph for the now seen English road;
The Seamen now prepare their sev'rall Catches
To satisfy with joy the blubberd Watches
Of longing wives: The goblets swell with pride
To poure a health unto each others Bride,
But whilst they brag their loadstar shines most fair,
Their cheated Hopes make Shipwrack on despair:
Proud Neptune swells with rage, who smil'd before,
Haunted with Aeolus Furies from the shoare;
From Gulphs to mountains the maz'd ship is hurt'd
From thence again down to the deeps is worr'd;
They cut the sayles, unlade, but all in vain,
To stay the infolence o'th' boyling Main;
The pale complaining mariner kneeling lifts
His hands, his eyes, employes his latest shifes,
Still beating on his breast with crossed arms,
In dolefull sound strikes drearie deaths Alarms;
With his salt teares brines the Seas saltnesse more,
His sighes, with winds, force all her bowels roar,
Till wrathfull Neptunes uncontrolled lawer,
Rushes the ship on Syll's devouring jawes.
Faln Heav'n's Hell doubled: To be swallow'd up,
Ingeminates the woe, i'th' Cape of Hope.
The Courtiers throbs move Edward to desire
The borr'wing still of more life-quickning fire,
Wishing sometimes his tender Sonnes unborne,
Then from the brests of his protection torne
In their soft-blooming spring; Vertue i'th bud
May soon be blasted ere it spread abroad,
Ere sharper fighted reason can discry
The Trayterous nets, with maskes of policy.
Most fitly sutes with a severer frowne
The glitt'ring ardours of a sacred Crowne.
A cradled Scepter speakes the Kingdomes sin,
Hence mischiefes rock the Realme, Harpies within
Doe prey upon the Crowned babe, unmeet
To chase such rav'nous Vulturs from his feet.
The mountebank of State will now inspire
His limbeck full of that ethereall fire
Prometheus filch'd from Jove, resolv'd thereby
Some rare extractions Chymical! to try,
More gainfull then that purse-corroding Stone,
Woo'd oft by sundry, wedded yet by none.
Pyrenees on the Alps these Gyants heap,
And cause mount Pelion upon Ossa leap,
To mount the height of Scepters: Envy stands
Gnawing her chain by all the Nobles hands.
Ambition breeds strange Tympanies; the law
Goes under baile, fees them who keep't in awe.
Poore martyr'd Client! I'm distract to see
That great mens sins are so reveng'd on thee,
Thy goods, thy life, thy soule is punished,
When thy seduced Leaders are misled.
So some have heard Getulian lions roare
O're guiltlesse Lambs,
Simile.
which (silent) stand beforeThe King of beasts, and dare not quech, lest then
They should be made repasture for his den.
A Crown is envies Butt; each Pearle's an eye.
Like those of Argus, the Cow-keeping-spie)
Whose rayes (like Titans beames) around the world,
From Center, to Circumference are whirld.
That (borne in nature) Heav'ns so just decree
Read in th' illustr'ous brow of Majesty;
That (Atlas like) all great supporting birth,
Speakes Kings no lesse then mighty Gods on earth.
A vaunt then from this Cradle ye who curse
The just Astrea, Princely Babies nurse;
Hence Belknap, hence
Two corrupt Justices in the reigne of Rich. the 2.
Trisilian, come not neareTo stisle Justice in the Princes eare;
Stand off bold Green, and Bushey, who by stealth
Dare gain a Patent for the peoples wealth,
And farme no lesse then Kingdoms to beguile
The needy widow, and the Orphan spoile:
Hence
The [...]wo evill: counsellors of Edward the 2.
Spencer, Gaviston, no room for youTo lead your Sov'raign by a wanton Clue:
Fortune, usurp no more such lofty stages
For vitious Scenes, lest thou in future ages
Bee'st tearm'd a Goddesse most unjust, and blind,
To let Sinne lead, and vertue lagge behind.
Keep off all Catholick Locusts from the Court,
Which (like Torpedo) mak't your onely sport
With pleasing Charmes t'intice, secure, beguile
The sleeping senses of the Crocodile,
Whil'st slie Ichneumon (the Italian rat)
Eates throw the bowells both of Church, & State.
Avaunt, lascivious Gallant, perfum'd Sir,
Of lust, and of thy selfe, Idolater:
Thou compound of all Nations, Fashions, sinnes,
Chiefe Lord of Anticks, Prince of conjurings;
Strange moulds of nature, which confounds to tell
Whether with Birds, or Beasts, or Men to dwell:
No deity's acknowledg'd but the Face
Of thy shee Saint, nor no externall grace
That marts not in her Cheek; From Venus eye
He doth Astronomize. Loves winged Boy!
Great Emperour of wreathed Armes! Goe beck
Some scorching Beldame for the neighing neck
Of such luxurious Stallions. Where's the scars
Of honour showne, fresh bleeding from the wars,
For Kingdomes Fame? Perchance your musky skin
Is bramble-scratched with your Ladies pin.
Raise not 'gainst Princes eares your lustfull charms,
Impetuous shadowes, whom no spirit warms:
What Metamorphosis more wondred at
Then for to see a King by you turn'd gnat!
Whose mouth-spear goars fond blood, whose Trū pet-wing
Sounds an Alarum to each triviall thing;
As if wise Solomon should tune a jigge,
Or mighty Hercules goe whip a gigge.
Such Comets, so malignant to a Nation,
Are matter of our Edwards Reformation;
Who (dying now) his wisdome does prepare
To guard his Kingdome with a Trench of care:
Such Oracles bequeathing (as its Fence)
Gain'd to himselfe by gray experience:
So, to the Seamen,
Simile.
doth a Pilot lendHis clew of reason, how their course to bend;
When by the Lee shoar, when to launch toth' deep,
When to cast Anchor, and the vessell keep
From eating Silts, rocks, gulphs, and when to saile
With a full gale, and when the top-faile vaile.
The pensive Lords, encircling round his bed,
He drawes the curtaines which impal'd his head,
Which from his restlesse pillow his displac'd,
And thus began (having them all embrac'd.)
"My Lords, Right trusty, and belov'd Allies,
"Behold the fainting Couch where Honour lies;
"What cause, Ambition, for thee to be proud
"Whose life's a Pilgrim to a silly Shrowd!
"Vainglory builds us Palaces of wind
"Upon quicksilver founded, where we find
"Like Sodoms fruits the Palms, and Laurels grow,
"Which into ashes turn when we them wooe
"For solid touch. 'Twas wisest Solons breath:
"No man commenceth happy untill death.
"How truly may my meanest Subjects sing,
"In Birth, in Ayre, in Death we match the King!
"And after death who can distinction find
"'Twixt blended skulls of Swains, with Princes join'd?
"O, how our balls are tost of quickned clay
"Into a thousand hazards! Ev'ry day
"Presents new Scenes to short spectators eyes,
"Like Masquers vizards, Comick Tragedies.
"I have the dawning, and the setting seen
"Of some prodigious Comets, which have been
"I'th' Firmament of States; which fiercely hurl'd
"Firebrands, with blood commixt, about the world,
"Whose proudest Items, to this totall Summ
"Onely amounts, a darke three-cubit room!
"I some of you have rais'd; as now y'are great
"From me, to Mine be henceforth greatefull; yet
"If otherwise, plagues shall revenge the blot
"Of Perjury; If Honours Spring's damm'd up,
"The borrow'd streams so on must with ebbing dry
"That flow your Channells now with dignity.
"The Ancients limm'd the Graces hand in hand,
"Shewing, no gift should unrequited stand:
"Farre be it from a noble soule, to let
"The thankfull tribute of a benefit
"Expect a Gaole deliv'ry, to enlarge
"Th' ingenuous freedome of good natures charge.
"Death cancells my receipts; I leave my sonne
"A King more by your love, then by his throne.
"But what availes it, should ye love the King,
"If 'mongst each other privy hatreds spring?
"The greatest Ill, or Blessing of this Land,
"Doth in your discord, or your concord stand.
"Your civill jarres, have caus'd uncivill rents,
"Close not my reigne with such bad Presidents.
"How many bloody sweats, and deadly blowes
"Have rise about the colours in the Rose?
"Giving no reason why those thousands bled,
"But that this Rose was White, and that was Red:
"Like as you see some Parents fondly love
"The Male children,
Simile.
whenas the Females prove"The Mothers Idols; this 'cause't hath his nose,
"The other that, because she doth suppose
"It hath her gate, and speech; One house thus rears
"Altar, 'gainst Altar, whil'st the Father swears
"That he her little Deity will not spare,
"Unlesse the grudging mother incense beare
"To his. Let Callets scold, and Pages draw,
"Who cannot spell the sense of Honours law
"For one misplaced Comma, thinking better
"Might have been left out one Essentiall letter:
"They're Valours Schismaticks, wch thus have vext
"With their base Comments such a noble Text.
"Wash deep in Lethe. Come, let's all ascend
"The hill of Pardons (joyning hand in hand)
"Lest worser Factions, by the postern gate,
"Usurp the lofty Stories of the State.
"Love seems to me that beauteous chain of gold,
"Which doth the world in Courteous fetters hold;
"How much more strictly that your hearts it ties,
"The more 'twill fasten your Felicities.
"Be tender how you cloud a morning Star,
"Whose beams may long enrich your Hemisphear,
"If no Cometick furious gleams withstand
"Its blessed influence on this happy land.
"Rome speake thy fainting fits under the hands
"Of Cesars Legions, meeting Pompeyes Bands
"Enrag'd with blood: Let Latium here define
"The deadly feud o'th' Guelph, and Gibelline.
"Expiring France had blood scarse left to write
"Of Orleance Gall, and the Burgundian Spite.
"The Grecian beares by his discording force
"The desolate foot-prints of the Ottoman horse.
"And wher's that British heart, which hath not bled
"By th' prickly Roses in our English bed?
"Ah! factious Ambition is a field
"Where th' Combatants are mad, & fury yield
"Them Arms, the prize but Smoak, the full carreer
"On glassy yce, whose utmost bounds appear
"Steep Precipices! But deaths fatall cords
"Pinion the licence of my halting words!
"I faint, my Lords Farewell!
He more wou'd say
When th' Angell came to fetch his soule away:
Then rucking to his pillow, with fix'd eyes
(Which fail'd his sight) gaz'd on their rufull cries.
The Peeres join'd hands in love, begg'd lifes reprief;
Th' Ayre eccho'd out (with Sympathy) their grief.
Have you beheld bright Phebus Chariot whirl'd
By fiery Steeds, to chear the drooping world;
The proud-topd Cedars with Shrub humble pile
Are blest by th' influence of his radiant Smile;
The Coloworts, and the Lettice thrive as well
As th' amorous Lilly, or the Daffodell;
Each stalk (whil'st forth he stalks) to kisse his feet,
Is proud with Pomp, and prodigall with sweet;
All parts with Verdour doth his beauty crown
From his ascending, to his going down:
But whil'st all do at upon his wish'd aboad,
Behold him gotten to th' Hesperian road;
Now Hesper (ush'ring Luna) bids night shroud
Sols frontlet, with an ore-spread sable cloud:
The crest-faln F [...]owrs hang their dejected tops
Down heavy, pickled in their, dew-faln drops:
Heav'n's hang'd with Blacks, as if it meant t'inter
All Sublunarials in Sols sepulcher.
So sets Plantagenet, who shin'd bright here,
When our blest Albion was his Hemisphere;
Fig'ring his vertues on each Subjectsbrest,
As Iris beares Sols image on her crest.
Hee's set, and hushes all in blackest night,
When (Persian-like) they most ador'd his light:
Was not the Fatall Spinster something thrifty,
To cut his thread, and make the knot at Fifty?
When as the rare-spread Snow scarce shew'd it fall
Upon his almost grizled Capitol?
Why might not it, with time, have whit'ned there?
Too soon, ah; thaw'd it in each Subjects teare!
Whose drops distilling from alembick eyes,
Did in their Crystall mirrours Sympathize.
Thou Coward Death, why met'st him not in field,
Who made thy proudest Trophies there to yeeld?
(Casting his Gantlet down) did there outbrave
Thee, then no Conq'rer, but a yeelding slave;
Whil'st gallant feats did breed couragious strife,
To try in doubtfull jarres a carelesse life:
In those extreams thy ambushments were vaine,
His seething blood parboyl'd his flesh unslain;
When He, in midd'st of ruins, there defi'd
Hail-show'rs of iron, trampling on thy pride,
As if he were immortall, or could cause
Lives to spring up as plentifull as Bayes;
Then farre from him thou sneak'dst, & did admire;
Swearing, he had no earth, but all was fire.
Tymanthes, vaile thy cunning here, t'impart
Plantagenet to th' life, by thy weake Art:
His Wisdome, Valour, Counsell did so flame,
That, who the Concrete speakes prophanes his name.
As States-man, view him first, and now conceit
You see the Legats of each forein State,
Postilions flying with their winged speed,
Their packets op'ned, Secretaries read,
This King, i'th' midd'st, whole nights untired kept
To rock the cradle, whil'st his Subjects slept.
If as a Souldier, from the Arms of's Nurse
Behold him thrown into the forge of Mars;
Suppose you saw the ranged Battells plac'd,
A thorny wood of Pikes, with Shot enchac'd,
And echoing Drums, with fired Vollies thunder,
And dying groans which rend the Aire in sunder;
Then think you see this Prince, in Front, inspire
Each Troop with his super-heroick fire.
Cesar for warlike lessons might croud in,
(Wrapt like Alcides in th' impiercive skin
Of high resolve) his tedious travells stand
Like dwarfs, and pygmies at his high Command.
The Veni-vici, which was Cesars word,
But offall was to th' stomach of his sword.
Count all the honours that Gustavus got,
The bold Hungarian, or the Epirot;
He them out-poizes with his Sterling soule,
Though three such more should tugge the other scole.
Now were my Muse in travell of such lines
As Ovid minted, or those lofty Twinnes,
Homer, and Virgill; and could soar as high
As th' Empyreum of their Poetrie,
To weave for Edwards brows, now crown'd with stars,
A glorious Chaplet of Hexameters,
With slow-pac'd Spondies, and quick Dactylls wove,
Where curious Art, with quaint invention strove;
Should I pluck sprigs of Laurell from the browes
Of all the Heroes, which their storehouse showes,
And plant them here, to feel no month but May,
Screening his Tomb with a whole Grove of Bay;
Or here present you with a Captaine bold,
Backing a Steed, caparison'd with gold,
His back apparel'd in a glitt'ring Coat
Of Lightning, bearing Thunder in his throat;
Where myriads of armed men reeruit
His Legions, at the Stamping of his foot,
Till musick of the Drums, and Clarions meet
To woo them to Battalia at his feet:
And then an Eagles ventrous pinion take,
Circling the world through ev'ry Clime, and make
Known to the Artick, and Antartick Pole,
The influence of his diviner soule;
Then say 'tis Edward; 'las! I should but strive,
As foolish Actors in their plots contrive;
Presenting on the Stage for to be seen,
A goodly fellow, in a Lions skin,
Saying 'tis mighty Hercules, and dub
His sinewy shoulders with a massy club,
When all deride this goodly shew at length,
As but a Pygmey to Alcides strength.
If that be true the Pythagorean holds,
The suppos'd transmigration of souls,
Think those of Hector, and Achilles brake
Forth from the reliques of their dust, and spake
His high-born name; all gallant souls in him,
Of by-past Heroes, held their Sanhedrim.
Now, now the Grecian, and the Trojan Prince
Repent their duell for that foolish wench,
Wishing that they had let their Standards fall,
To serve in pay so brave a Generall:
Homer, and Virgil, sha'nt excuse their fate,
(Although their Muse did supererogate)
Which shall confine them unto Purgatory,
Till they revive on earth to sing his Story.
Now to summe up his Princely Courtesies;
Conceive a thousand potent enemies,
Not humbled low at his Triumphant feet,
But freely by him at his table set,
Nay, in the same Caroch, nay guesse y'are led
To see them smiling on the selfe same bed.
In short, he was the best accomplish'd Lord
That ever gain'd a Diadem by th' sword,
If that a life so pretious might have been
Kept from corruption by his subjects brine;
He had been rank'd amongst the royall founders
Of Britains glory, in a wreath of wonders.
One might in's Physiognomy have read
A pleasing combate fought 'twixt love, and dread.
Here's both the costly-furred Ermine Stole.
And humble haircloth of a gentle soule.
So like to Mars he was, in Arms, & love,
Bellona 'nd Venus for his person strove;
His love did banish, and Tourney with his eye,
As quick, as lightning through the squad tons flie.
Writers agree, this was his chiefest blot,
He rather drunk, then sipp [...] of pleasures pot
His roling eye oft stray'd from being led
By chast, sweet lures to his more lawfull bed.
Charity' instructs me that he wou'd have mended
His other faults, had not quick death prevented;
God (where the deed, cannot it selfe be sent)
Accepts the Proxy of a true Intent.
Thus let him sleep, untill the pow [...]rfull found
Of th' great Tar-ran-tar-ra shall broach the ground,
And dust (long crumbled from the sides of men)
Shall find its scatt'red sands, and rally, then
May Englands Kings, awake their drowsy eyes
Out of their sear-cloth shrouds, and gently rise,
To see the Three in One this Knight install
With Heav'ns bright Garter, and the golden Ball.
Now would I take my work out of the Looms,
Did not the piteous Fate of Edwards sons
Add a fresh storm unto my blubberd Muse,
And more sad Tydes to my drench'd quill infuse;
Which lagging homewards, with a heavy chear,
From the Entombed Fathers Sepulcher,
Meets horrid
Richard Duke of Gloster, Brother to Edw. the 4. & after him usurping the Crowne, by the name of Rich. the 3.
Glosters spectrum by the wayWith Tyrrels cursed Ghost! who, bid me stay,
Whom, when I name, my Muse doth seek a shroud
To hide her visage in a sable cloud.
Yet will we chain these hellish Fiends in Rhymes,
That whil'st their names are read in after times,
They both, on earth may in such torments live,
As Stygian Furies underneath it give.
Let Ignominie henceforth feise upon
Their Persons, and with terrour dragge them down
Into despair, commanding Hope to fly
For ever, ever, to Eternity!
Men, turn'd to Monsters, I shall bring to view;
Such uncouth Births, as Africk never knew:
Eye-pois'ning Troops of Basilisks, brought o're
From Lybian deserts, toth' Egyptian shoare
By foggy Auster, with a counter blast,
Are hither sent, our Island to infest.
Infernall Hags here furnish bloody feasts,
Wolvish Lycaon, Lestrigon are guests;
Carrousing cups of royall blood, brimfull,
Quaffing gore up in fierce Medusa's skull!
The Throne is hers'd in black, and does appear
Now, for th Kings, soone, for the Princes beer!
Erinnys with swarth pinions broods the seat
Emperiall; o'th' walls dire slaughters sweat:
Death, bowes his Sithe over the Nobles heads,
And with as Tragick paces proudly treads,
As when he (in Commission) fought for pay
Under Mezentius, or Caligula.
Dar'st (thou false Duke) so soon betray thy trust,
And blend thy faith with thy dead Brothers dust!
Unnat'rall Tyrant! should our land now see
A Juncto of accursed Sauls, like thee,
The blood of us, their Vassalls, would not last
A draught, and all our flesh scarce break their fast.
When thou, at Bosworth, shalt the earnest feel,
Which veng'ance wil powre down from
Henry Earle of Richmond that stew K. Rich. at the battell of Bosworth & after obtain'd the Crown by the name of Houry the 7.
Richmonds steel;The pety sinks of People, then shall throw
Thy Fame into the common Sewer; so
To wreck thy Mem'ry, in as deep a Shame
As e're was suff'red from so high born name.
Reproach thy shround, Hate shall thy Herauld be,
And blood thy Balm, thy Grave black Obliquy.
To My truly Honoured Friend Mr D. W.
SIr, I present you here with the offspring of a countrey Muse, and in a plain dresse sutable. It is more then two years since the birth of this Poem, which I bred up for no other ayre but my Chamber window, had not the strivings of some Friends wrested my will out of my hands: It now venters abroad to give you a visit in [Page 46]your privacy; it is not waggish, but serious. Be pleased to lodge it in a warm room, with a Skreen from the cold blasts of the Sonnes of Censure. The best argument I can plead for a kind reception, is that it comes from
Sir Your faithfull Servant T. W.
PLANTAGENETS Tragicall Story.
The second book.
NO sooner had the welcome Messenger
Landed his newes at th' port of Richards ear;
But he commands obedient tears to wet
The glad-sad tydings of the sable sheet;
Drops trickled down, as striving in a race
To stide the soonest off the Croc'diles face.
The weather's foul, when moystned marbles drop.
From flinty Richards teares, expect a crop
Of Mischieses. "Flie! he cries, ô Fury, flie!
"Most ugly and ill-boding Mercury!
"Let that Planet, which in thy birth did shine,
"For c're be plucked from the wheel of Time!
"Brother! This Orphan word is all that's left
"To me, by cruel Fate yet unbereft!
"O Heav'ns, (if any Heav'ns at all there be)
"Serve all your Starry eyes this shame to see
"Done to a Sonne of yours! An idl'effect
"Has your all-whirling course! Let Swains erect
"Fair Altars then unto your pow'rs in Chief,
"Which smile, or else are senslesse at our grief!
"Goe strike some Hermit, Death! perhaps for that
"Thou shalt be curst of nothing but his Cat;
"Or feed thy Glutton blade, thou foretopt Sire!
"On those extracted out of baser mire,
"And from impurer Clay; thou meagre Clown!
"How dar'st thou be a Rivall to the Crown?
"For all our wealthy Summs of peace repos'd,
"And lodg'd in him, do'st think that wee'll be nos'd
"With dust? For life, whose active oyle was spent
"I'th' publick Lamp, do'st think wee'll be content
"Onely, with brine-steep'd eyes to speak him dead?
"Or for the flourishing Laurells on his head,
"With sullen Cypresse? sure, such vast arrears
"Life ow'd, for actions which out-pac'd his years,
"As it (to save so long a times expence)
"Hath now cōspir'd with death to take him hence.
"I'se send my soul up in a cloud of sighes,
"From this imprison'd Chaos where it lies
"Unto my Brothers Ghost to sacrifice.
Thus far he roar'd in Ela, till this note,
Muzled below a Gammut in his throate;
"Brother! Thy drowsy ashes I'le arrest,
"And try if thou canst break the marble chest
"Where I'le intomb thy dust; hoping to see
"My rubs shall all be spurn'd away like thee:
"I'le Crimson-dye the ground, and taste no wine
"Prest from the grape, but of the Orphans brine;
"And be the Leader to so bold a Fray,
"The Gyants onset was but cudgel play;
"I'le hamstring all the Sons of Men below,
"And make, the world but upon crutches goe.
Reader! These words (when once thou knowest all)
Thou'lt swear true Copy of th' Originall;
And though my Muse should her quotations miss
In other Texts, yet that shee's true in this.
What Gloster was, I'le not forestall your eye,
To give you here his brief Epitomy,
Since 'twill advantage much (if so you please,)
To gain his Character by just degrees;
Which to a wrinckle will describe the same,
Without Hic Leo est, upon the Frame.
Richard (who now had told the world he griev'd)
Glad most of all that he was so beleev'd,
(Beginning Night to make a heavy stay,
Upon the eyelids of the drowsy Day)
Gives now Command for all to seek repose,
Since they so long had broyl'd their brains in woes,
And thinks it time for him to still his cries,
(Wiping those moistned Hypocrites, his eyes)
When straight a Post (arriving thither late)
Did strongly beat a Call o'th' Palace gate;
Who (with a look, that seemed for to be
Ingendered 'twikt scorn, and fecrecie)
Did tell the surly Porter that he came
From his Duke Henry's Grace of
Hen: Stafford, Duke of Buckingham.
Buckingham:His Masters name bespake the easie sence
Of Glosters eare, now rowz'd for audience,
"Stout Stafford greets you well, and lets you know
"In this new World hee's prest to follow you;
"Taking such part, as bold atchivments must,
"Where danger onely is the Feoff in trust
"For Honours Legacy: Disband your feares;
"He can recruit you with a Thousand Speares,
Now Lovell, Cat'sby, Ratcliffe enters in,
Whom sympathy of humors long did pin
Upon his sleeve: He of whom Poets tell,
That was designed to be Judge in Hell,
Needed but in Commission, such a Three,
To hold the devils Gaole-delivery.
This trayterous Juncto now thus closely set,
Gloster begins to broach, what he had kept
Under more keyes, lock'd in his brests abysse,
Then Horace dame the strong Falernian juice.
"My faithfull souls! were you not known to be
"Under the like aspects of Fate with me,
"Ne're should my wound this day have taken aire,
"Lest I a Gangrene, or a Feaver feare,
"But rather (fast bound up) for to endure
"Till time might bring a balsome for the cure.
"A budding thought, yet ne're my breast did bear,
"Unlesse your bosomes did the blossomes wear,
"Which makes me think this secret you'l interre,
"Making your hearts the onely Sepulcher.
"How oft have you, and I repin'd to see O
"The Kingdome sway'd by such a milksop? Hee
"More fit to Tilt, and Tourny with a Lasse,
"Or (whil'st she spots Vermilion) hold the glasse;
"That beauteous
Jane Shoar the beloved Concubine of Edward the 4.
Shar, where he so oft arriv'd,"Could with her Oar, both Law and Justice guide,
"The Judge is deaf-unto the Pleaders cry,
"Be it enacted from her very eye.
"So many nets, as gestures to ensnare
"Affections, and with pleasing smiles to dare
"All men to serve, her eye-beames could defray
"A pow'r not onely for to presse, but pay.
"All Honours, Offices did streame from hence,
"She blest or blasted with her influence.
"Ask me not why? Hee's but a Fool will prate,
"Thinking on Reason to inoculate
"The graffs of phansie; who to take pretends
"Cloud-climbing heights of Princes favors, stands
"On equal monture with them, since their pleasure
"Is th' onely Jacob staffe by which they measure.
"Shall Harlots Fillets bind on Princes Crownes,
"And Statute Law phylacterize their Gownes?
"Cease Students then, on many prints to look,
"For Shoars faire face was made your stature book
"Brave sport, my friends, to see a King thus led,
"To sport men out of thousands in his bed,
"Some gallant Trophies did his reigne repleat,
"But all the Laurel's maystned with our sweat;
"The quill was dipt i'th' Standish of my wounds,
"That wrote th' Indentures of his purchas derowns;
"I clipt great
Rich: Nevill, or Make-King, Earle of Warwick, greatly beloved of the commons in those daies.
Warwicks high-aspiring wings,"Who thought it lesse to be, then set up Kings.
"Now let your thoughts resent well our affaires,
"On which depends our hopes, and of our Heires:
"For to enstall us with the peoples love,
"Some of the Serpent needs; as well's the Dove;
"First 'twill doe well to cast some oil i'th' fire
"Of that fast rooted, unappeased ire,
"Long bred between us of Plantagenets line,
"And the Queens upstart Lordlings of her Kinne;
"Thus having tutor'd well our passions, so
"That whilst each part shall challengeout his Foe,
"Wee'l lay the capstone where we mean to build,
"And rear our Trophies in the blood that's spill'd.
"Then shall no rubb once boldly dare to peep,
"When we're dispos'd the Alley for the sweep:
"Like as Mower, when he barbs the meads,
"(If any surly Bents perk up their heads)
"Fodders his sithe (as he along doth passe)
"In the soft entrails of the withring grasse.
"I bind you fast by Styx, conceale our ends;
"Hearts are the Midwives at the birth of friends:
"And thus (we having jointed close before
"The severall rifts, and chinks of every doore)
"No glim'ring spark of light shall steale an eye,
"To light a candle at discovery.
"Who so will draw a Map of our designe,
"Must perry wigge our Plottings over fine
"With some false haire, that Lynceus may not spie
"Our callow projects with a naked eie;
"Lest (like unfeath'red Owles) we be a scorn
"Unto the world, as soon's the day is born.
Ludlow (now fam'd for the young Princes court
At the death of's Sire) hither did resort
The Queens two sons, which noble Grey begat,
(As first Incumbent) ere Plantagenet
Had the Advowson, who did hold from thence
Alliance (by Smock-tenure) of the Prince:
The valiant Scales,
Anthony Woodvile Lord Rivers, Brother to the Queen
Woodvile, who steer'd the BargeOf Englands hopes, and kept the royall charge.
Each blood, as nearest to the Queen, did stand
To latch a smile, next by the Princes hand.
Gloster (snatching the foretop of the time)
Lodgeth the guests of his contriv'd designe
At Hastings envious brow, which he resents
Hanging out open signes of discontents
Against the Queens advancement of her race,
Whose graves, revenge so digged in his face,
That by the very Index of his look,
You might peruse his heart without the book.
Who of mans little World takes best survey,
Much Ter-del-fugo, and Incognita
Will still remaine, to a judicious eye
Unnat'raliz'd, untill discovery.
Richard so froward was, you'ld think h'ad been
A breeding teeth; had not his gumms been seen
Arm'd from his birth-lay a although Nature was
Herein no Bungler, but a Prophetesse:
Sin's like a Monster,
Arist.
which is seldome borneBut by some swelling, or excesse of forme.
(His passion now unto a phrensy boil'd)
Himself of all suspect he thus assoil'd.
"Can such a thing (My Lords) as this be true,
"Our royall Faulcon should be kept in Mew,
"Sequestred from out duty, and our care,
"Having (as we deserve) so joint a share?
"Shall we extracted from the loins of Kings,
"Be overtopped by such Mushrnme things?
"Woodvile, and Scales shan't King't, whilst in my veins
"A drop of true Plantagenet remains;
"Whose high-way Trefoile (save the Kings dispose)
"Was far unmeet to posie with his Rose.
"I've read of Serpents which in winter lie
"As dead, curl'd up in their chill livery,
"But when the Sun lies warm-upon their heads,
"They cast out poison from their mossy beds.
Thus Envies flints, join'd to ambitious steels,
Begat seditious sparks, which Stafford feels
Alone, till Hastings kindled, who had bin
Made by Fourth Edward his high Chamberlin:
Two haughty Peers, oft clashing inter se,
Yet in eodem tertio did agree;
Saying 'twas time now for the Prince to stand,
Changing his Wothers Knee, for's Fathers Hand,
And lean upon those ancient props, which stood
As Staddits, when the rest were underwood
And could not heathfull be untill he let
Out Greyes grosse blood, from pure Plautageuet,
To stop some dang'rous feaver, which oft reigns
From such unnaturall conflicts in the reins.
His Fathers blood had been so long a broach
It now tan dregges, and shortly must approach
Unto a tilt, should they neglect their best
Endevours for to give't its pristine tast.
The Prince is now a double Orphan left,
As well of Father, as of friends bereft,
Wean'd from those teats, where he should suck advice,
Bitter'd with false reproach and calumnies;
Some Knights o'th' Post (to still the people noise)
Dubbed by Hell, did offer to depose
A Plot; How eas'ly Pow'r can make desence
(Having such Verbs fitted for every Tense!)
Whither it was blinde Fates enforcing law
These guiltlesse Lords under the Vulturs pawt
Did bring; and that all-turning wheel,
Which by a curst experience makes us feel,
No State hath footing in this mortall strife,
On th'ycie down hills of a slippy life;
But so it was, the Prince of them depriv'd,
And they of life, when they at Pomfrei di'd:
Thus glorious Sun-allied Stars (of late)
Are joustled headlong from the brow of State,
Whilst basest dust, (winde-wafted with the time)
Advance it selfe, and to a Mercour climbe.
Should death make choice but of an innocents face
('Twould ne're affright us) for his Looking glasse:
It needs must angelize a face to see
How they become their dresse of mifery.
Blaz'ning the Coat of Suff'ring, which doth yield
A patient Rampant, in a smiling Field;
Where death is vanquish'd, whilst they give him termes
To come to composition in their Armes.
Now, now, begins the springtyde of a teare,
Where eyes the best of Rhetoricians are.
You admirable teare-eternizers,
Come and adopt our subject, make it yours!
O, come, and give a grief-bung'd soul a vent,
Teaching our wofull numbers to lament!
Our infant Prince (scarce yet to th'navell born)
Casting his bleeding eye on so forborn
A state of things (crying) shrinks in againe
His head, as loath of such a troublous raigne.
If cruell nature needs must thrust him forth,
Though scarce to see, yet to be seen on earth;
(In stead of dandling Byoes) I espy
The cradle thrown b'a roaring Lullaby.
Unnaturall tempests, by ambition driv'n,
Beat through the crannies of his neat-to heav'n
Sacred dormitory; Satyrs dance round,
Hell runs at Batly-brick o're facred ground.
Gloster thus (closely digging of his Mine
To blow up all his brother Edwards line,
And conj'ring Hell, exactly how to set
His snares, (made by the Masks of Nimrods net)
We'll leave upon his march to th'royall City,
To view an Object may deserve your pity,
The Mother Queen, who ne're had wip'd her eyes,
Or once enjoy'd a Sabbath from her sighes,
Since flinty Fate carv'd out so sowt a crosse
As loving wives taste in a husbands losse.
No quiet Shoare she finds, no harbour neare,
(Tossed on sorrowes surges here, and there)
And (weighing anchor in so dark a night)
She of Cape-comfort wholly lost the sight.
Sols fairest Grandchild Light, now rouz'd his head
From's Eastern pillow (then newly wak'ned
By's hasty Sire) and quickly getting up,
He sets his fresh Cerulean casements ope;
Through which the Sun doth throw a morning smile
Into her lap, so thinking to beguile
With his rayes Maydenhead her grief-sieg'd eyes,
To give up all her teares in hostages.
Her maids of Honour (with dishevel'd tresses)
Are some employ'd to sort out mourning dresses,
Others, make Civet water for her hands,
Which in a golden bason trembling stands,
Affraid to touch their Snow, till first it be
Washed it self from all impuritie:
She sometimes shewes her self unto her glasse,
T'instruct her eyes what weather's in her face,
(For 'tis agreed that Female Almanack
Can shew the Signes in beauties Zodiack:
When (fastning to his feet his light-wing'd plumes)
God Mercury with heavy tidings comes,
Making no stay, untill arrived at
(Arresting with his rod) the palace gate;
And (brought within the ear-reach of the Queen)
Gives her a blunt account of what had been
At Pomfret: how those noble Lords alli'd
Unto her Highnesse self were double dy'd
With paper Treason, forg'd by Richards pow'r,
And dayly looking for their latest hour,
Being so Planet-stricken with the frown
Of the two Dukes, 'tis thought they'l never own
Themselves: and further adds for truth, that they
Were marching thither arm'd in brave array,
The Rhet'rick was, the Prince should meet the crown,
But (ended brief) the Grammar was her own.
She heard him out, like as a prisoner
(Standing with trembling fear at th' dreadfull bar)
Doth hear his gibbet-sentence; ev'ry word
Of all this woefull Climax was a sword,
And (grinding in her brest a heart-deep groan)
She backward falleth in a frightfull swoun,
The roses shrink under their beds of snow,
And dare not on her cheeks be seen to grow:
How often did her Ladies screiches pray
The fainting powers of her soul to stay!
Calling on her deceased husbands name,
And oft repeating it againe, againe;
They first perceive the Lilly, and the Rose
To make faint combats in her lips, and nose;
As if sh' had onely this desir'd of death,
To speak his name but with her latest breath.
At length (when she her Twins of light unseal'd)
In accents like to these her self reveal'd.
"Who so will draw a Map of Misery,
"Need phansie no more wretched Plot then I;
"Whose speechlesse wound (to all the standers by)
"May ransome Pain from an Hyperboly:
"Great griefs within no certain limits fall,
"But who once nameth me, he speaketh all.
"Good fortune is not alwaies bound to pay
"Homage to greatnesse, or to pave the way
"Of Queens with Flowr-de-luces; now I see
"The safest Tenure's not in Capite;
"Our golden couches are as often torn
"With strong Convulsions, and our pallets worn
"With shaking Fevers, as the beds of straw;
"There's all to one alike impartiall law.
"You pleasant Milkmaids (which each morning passe
"Over the Virgin dew, and pearled grasse)
"Can sweetly sing by day, and soundly sleep
"At night, having the priviledge to keep
"Your wise affections for a homely bed,
"'Tis you that know contentment when you wed;
"When I (not having liberty to choose,
"Nor leave a royall Suter to refuse)
"Am now compell'd a Sacrifice to prove
"To th' politick ends of my unhappy love.
"When * Grey the title of a Lady lent
"(Distant alike from Envy,
Sir John Grey the Queens first husband stain in the battel of St Albons in defence of the house of Lancaster.
and Contempt)"Security, and sweetnesse seem'd to dwell
"Together with me in my humble Cell:
"What my bed wanted towards stately pride,
"Was by the soundnesse of my sleep suppli'd.
"Alas my tender Orphans! shall you be
"So timely taught the trade of misery!
"With hopes, and wishes is my heart repleat,
"The hunger of the wretched, and their meat.
And here breaks off; saying, she will not tarry,
Bidding them all pack up for Sanctuary.
Conceive a Countrey harras'd with an hoast
Of souldiers,
Simile.
landing on a peacefull Coast,Where deafning Drums, and Trumpets fright the Shoar,
And neighing horses through the welkin roar:
The swadled suckling (spying death at's back)
Nusles his head within his mothers neck;
And spotlesse Virgins to their lusts must pay
The shamefull Tribute of their blooming May;
There may you see the breathless Villager
Lugging his Barns to some good town that's neer,
The mother screiching, whilst bedabbled Lambs
(Bleating) pursue their bowells-yerning Dams.
Ha'ye seen the Front'ers of some fertile Tract
Exposed thus to th' Victors slaughter sack,
All in distracted hurries to convey
Their goods from bloody hands, wth hunt the prey;
Each house swept clean, before the night comes on,
The Countries ransack'd, to enrich the Town?
Then may you phansy (in a turn of th' hand)
How the Queens servants all divided stand
Twixt heavinesse, rumble, hast of such as carry
Her Trunks, chests, fardells into Sanctuary.
One strips the Liv'ry of its golden Fleece,
Another snatcheth down the pride of Greece,
The Arras hangings from the ghastly walls,
(Now set about with nought but spiders cauls)
Mean while, she in a gold-seil'd Cabinet
Her choysest, orient, pricefull Jewells shut,
Which (bearing in her arm) away she hies
With little York, which was her dearest prize.
Simile.
So will a fearfull Partridge (close pursu'd
By some quick bird of prey) make hast to shroud
It self in some thick covert: tost ships flie
The Oceans rage, and in safe harbour lie.
But even hither seem'd there for to peep
A ray of Comfort started out of sleep,
I mean the
Doctor Rotheram, Archbishop of York, and Keeper of the Scale.
Chanc'lor, who was knownto be
As high in vertue, as nobilitie.
(Her back bow'd under care, and sorrowes wallet)
He finds her couchant on an humble pallet;
Her down-cast head unto her knees she lent,
(Curl'd altogether up in discontent)
Making with her pearl-pointed fingers fair
Most piteous havock in her golden hair:
Her hair, which carelesse hung about her eares,
And onely serv'd her for to dry her teares:
Her teares, which from her red-swoln eyes did flow
Faster then rivers from their fountains goe:
Her brest did heave, as if her heart-strings strain'd,
Each part did shew the sorrowes it sustain'd;
Onely her tongue (her troubles were so many)
Found want of words how for to utter any;
But by her face, and gesture was exprest
The lively Image of a soul distrest.
O Pomfret, Pomfret, was lay next her heart,
Which like a gnawing Vulture seem'd to dart
A thorn through every vein: Light griefs can speak,
When greater with astonish'd silence break,
The heart in twain: small brooks run pratling by,
When rivers glide with peacefull Majesty.
She (like a widow Turtle, having lost
Her ma [...]e, her Joy, by God, and Nature crost)
Under her wings brooding her young unfledge,
In mournfull laies she sings a dolefull dirge.
Count but the leaves that fall, who ever sees
Novembers Foosts unperriwigge the trees,
Or the thick drops upon the stronging ears
Of yellow Ceres, (ere her looks she shears)
Score up the daisies Maia's bosome wears,
Then give the summe, and number up her tears,
Which (she so largely spending) seem'd to dry
Her whilome beauties to Anatomy.
Scarce could the lumpish Prelat here refraine
To pay his brooks of tributarie brine
Unto her sorrowes Sea, and tune his eyes
To her distractions, keeping Time with sighes;
So farre Affection did command in Chief
By loving Sympathies t' espouse her grief:
Untill his Reason did forbid the Bands,
And thus he spake (whilest still they joyned hands.)
"Why (Madam) should I see those twin-stars lowr
"On the Cheeks corall in a needlesse showr,
"Through moystned casements of those crystall Shops,
"As if retailing out your eyes by drops?
"'Tis Fortunes Musick, she enjoyes a feast
"To hear thick sobs harsh tuned in your breast;
"Beleeve me (Lady) 'tis the noblest part
"Of your Revenge, to slight not feel the smart.
"Heav'n gives you crosses (like sharp sauce) to whet
"For some choice banquet your dull appetite,
"The darker now your cloud-benighted brow,
"Your Paradise will sweeter Prospects show:
"Doff, doff that sullen Muffler! Could I find
"A thought were black enough to be unkind
"In all my soul to you, I'd purge my brest,
"To void the Traytor from amongst the rest.
"Each subjects shoulder bears your Graces crosse,
"This Isle an Orphan by your husbands losse:
"If thousands of such uselesse lives as mine
"For deaths too stern Arrest, could have put in
"Sufficient Bayle, you had this moment seen
"Your selfe a glorious, and a happy Queen:
"But our unhallow'd Votes (when at the best)
"Smell lesse of incense, then of Interest.
"If Englands crown shall shine on other brow
"Then of your Princely sonne, we the morrow
"Will take Yorks Duke, & (in his fathers stead)
"Wee'll powre the ruling oyle upon his head.
"How e're it be (Madam) suspend your ruth
"Till Time's deliv'red of her daughter Truth.
And so they part (anch'ring their hands together)
Whilst She replies, My Lord, y'are welcome hither.
Thus courteous trunks of trees I've often seen
Upon the the margent of a Stream,
Simile.
to leanForward with proffer'd boughs, with pity mov'd
To reach the Sinker from the swelling flood:
When Hercules met Theseus face to face,
Or Nisus did Euryalus embrace,
But hatred was, to see this wofull Queen,
(Which long in sorrowes lowest shades had been)
Embrace this Star of Comfort; but 'tis gone
With him, before She knew She was alone:
Like as a dying Tapers sickly beams,
Simile.
(Concealing in a Socket all its streams
Of light) now gives a glim'ring flash, or two,
Then all in darknesse: so her comforts doe.
(Sol having drawn the Conrtains of the Night,)
To what her eares had heard, her eyes did plight
Their faith, looking (yet but early season)
Saw many Boats fraught full of Glosters Treason,
Whose guilty Oares did pollute the Streame,
And wound the curled brest of silver Thame,
As if (by th' Earth, and ayre before) they meant
T'infest with poyson ev'ry Element.
Now was a Legate from grim Pluto sent
(Attended with a sooty Regiment)
To Richards Court; who (when arriv'd) did tell
That never was a place so like to Hell,
Desir'd his speed in's enterprise begun,
And proffer'd all the pow'rs of Acheron,
Gloster employeth Hastings (for his parts)
To get him quarters in the peoples hearts,
(He being so il-tun'd an Instrument,
The Musick of his soul could find no vent.)
He humbly prayes them for to take advice,
Listning to prudence not to prejudice;
That so (all murm'rings husht, and laid asleep)
(Fast ti'd in knots of duty) they might keep
Th' approching festivall in garb of State
The Dukes were marching for to celebrate;
And something more he puts into their Creed,
Of which himself more doubted, then beleev'd.
The discontented devill conjur'd down,
The Duke approches, with the King to Town;
Who playes so well that day the Subjects part,
As if h'ad shifted both his face, and heart,
And well might set his Pillars up, to be
A Non plus ultra to hypocrisy;
He throwes his hat off at the Peoples ring,
And gladly echoes to God save the King,
Which proves that true, which I before did doubt,
The Traytor speaketh, when his heart is out.
This very act did seem to set him up
With so full stock in Reputations Shop,
As he obtain'd his Grace for to Commence
Chiefe Lord Protector to the Orphan Prince;
And now his credit's good to run a score
In horrid murthers, not accounted for.
Who but some Sat'rick Iuv'nall, dares provoke
Crimes in a Diadem drest, or Tyrian cloake?
There is a Bird by th' Ancients call'd the Just,
Because she hides her Excrements i'th' dust:
A good example (great men) for to shroud
Your ill deportments under a dark Cloud
Of close concealment, rather then that you
Expose your Vices to a Publick view;
'Tis you, whose mountainous Aspect out-vies
The humble Vallies, whose high-towring eyes
Can see the callow Politicks in their nest,
(Which yet are Vulgar wonders when they're drest)
Be mountaines of Perfume, whose fragrant brow
No snare-intrapping Nimrod ever knew;
Be Phar's, whilst we these Zanclian straights survay,
And with your friendly light direct our way.
Thus far was Richards Canvas well employ'd
With prosp'rous gales, and ev'n so over-cloy'd
With Fortunes smiles, as should an Atheist see,
Hee'd argue from't against the Deitie:
His saylsnow swell'd with hopes of Englands throan
He rowes in blood, the Boat-swains wait upon
His fortune, boasting 'bove Columbus Train
(Inning their golden Harvest o're the Main;)
Knowing in black designes, to snatch the Oare
Of Considence, is half way to the Shoare.
There never wants (when States are deadly sick)
Some needy Quack, or faithlesse Emperick,
To try his mad Receipts; whilst nature fight,
He sees the groaning issue with delight.
Now Gloster's fit to drink his Iudas cup,
But one Ingredient lacks to make it up;
The Lion yet hath got but half his prey,
One tender lamb the mother hides away,
As knowing well, who to his savage Den
Doth once set footing, ne're returns agen.
He therefore (ere he means to Storme the Crown)
First plants his Batt'ries, for to thunder down
The Queens retreat, whose priviledg'd defence
By sacred right, (intrench'd with inocence)
Was held impregnable: the faithfull Peers
(Most loyall to her self) for Engineers
He calleth out, the Chancelour's the chief
O're these; then drawes out a Relief
(If these should be repuls'd) of harder temper,
Who for to scale the walls dare climb th' adventur,
And 'spite of Heav'n to' atchieve an Action,
Which th' old Gyants would have thought presumption:
The man design'd for to command o're them
Must be the marble-hearted Buckingham.
The Chancellours fast love to Edwards line
Was over-witted by this smooth designe;
As strangers (riding in a road unknown)
Follow the beaten Track to such a Town;
Simile.
So he (unskill'd i'th Knack of Policy)
Steers by the Pole-sttar of the Company:
So some corrupted Villian,
Simile.
(who hath soldHis soul, his Countrey, and his Faith for gold)
Leads his commanded Files to blood, which spilt
Stains Swords with gore, but not their hearts with guilt.
Unhappy Lord! Thy like I scarce can read,
Whose Faith was good, and yet corrupt in's Creed.
The Queen (long starv'd from joyes) doth now begin
To surfet on a welcome dish come in,
I mean the Bishop (flank'd with other Lords)
For to bespeak her Grace in these like words.
That she, and York march out, and not to tarry,
But quit the hold they kept in Sanctuary;
Fair Quarter then at Glosters hands her Grace
Might well expect, if not, he [...]'d Storm the place.
Seduced Paper-Worm! Had'st thou read Men,
As long as por'd on Bookes, false Richard then
Could ne're (pretending for to ope thine eyes)
Have led thee by the nose to play his prize.
This message struck the ears of th' wondring Queen
With such heart-cleaving sounds as is't had been
Some silent midnight knell, alarming souls
To high to lips, when once grim Death controuls
Delay; as if that he (she senslesse stood)
'Twixt soul, and body had the Banes forbod;
Courted at last unto her selfe (though long)
She this Reply contracted to her Tongue.
"Who in a storm weighs Anchor, seems to court
"His shipwrack, & deserves to miss the Port.
"Say, Nature, say! If when the Bird new springs,
"There be a heat more cher'shing then the wings
"Of its own mother: I shall dread some harmes,
"Till they are both impall'd within my armes;
"Had I my Child within these walls alone,
"I'd think him more secure then on a Throne;
"The Duke is ill at ease, and now in Bed,
"Rather amended, then recovered,
"And often I have heard Physitians speak,
"Relapses threaten danger to the weak:
"If nature (routed at the first) doth yeeld,
"At th' second Charge of force must quit the field.
"Afflict not nature in a widows cry,
"To steal poore Orphans from her Treasury!
"Madam (he straight replies) on you must fall
"This blame, 'tis you that are unnaturall,
"In choosing for to be so much a mother
"Unto the one, that you despise the other.
"Although he cannot in your arms miscarry,
"Yet 'tis not meet he should keep Sanctuary;
"How harshly doth it sound i'th' peoples lips!
"It cannot but the rising Sun eclipse,
"As if the Turkish bow-string were a sport
"Would grow in fashion now in Englands court.
"He hath not sinne enough to understand
"This place, (which onely shields from Justice hand
"If you be so resolv'd t' abide here still,
"(Rather then overcome a Womans will)
"Their joynt consent is to enfranchize him,
"Who hath no will to ask, nor yet a Crime
"To need it; such great love his Uncle bears,
"Lest you convey him hence through causlss fears
"Ah (quoth the Queen) how fond is Gloster grown
"Of late, to be so tender of my son!
"A riddle, how that wretch can prompt his good,
"Whose hands now reeketh with his Kindreds blood.
"Some say no grass could ever yet take root
"Where once the Ottoman horse but set his foot:
"'Tis here as true; where ever Gloster wend,
"Rapes, blood, and death his ghastly steps attend,
"My son deserves no Sanctuary you say,
"And 'tis no Breach to take him hence away,
"A goodly glosse! where Thieves may find defence
"Too narrow's made to shelter innocence.
"But little Ned doth lack a playfellow;
"Can Englands Court no merry waggs allow
"To stroak his humour? Fie! Avant for shame!
"A deep Conclusion, but a trifling Theme:
"Can it be thought a Prince so young in yeers
"Will play with none, but such as are his Peers?
"But the child askes it not; who told him so?
"Move him, and try, or if he answer no,
"If I but claim this Priviledge for me,
"My goods, as well's my Person shall be free;
"My horse from hence may not be ta'ne away,
"As is it then no breach of Sanctuary
"To take my Child? Nay, is he not my Ward?
"And our just laws doe make me of his guard,
"As learned councell say? h'as no demeanor
"Held by Knights service, but in Soccage tenure:
"The Law commits him to my custody,
"I ask it for him, since it makes not me
"A Guardian for his goods without the care
"Of's Person: By natures law mothers are
"To keep their Children; by the law of man
"The Infant's feoft upon his Guardian,
"And Gods law gives this place protection,
"And may not all these priviledge my son?
"No Jury need b'impannell'd on the cause
"Of these my fears, if you peruse the laws:
"Gold crowns are brave-ambition-tempting tools,
"Most men bewitching, if not Saints, or Fools.
"I wonder much (my Lord) what heat of lust
"In you to Glosters service, makes your Trust
"A Bawd to these imployments; and ev'n ty'd
"To Pimp it thus to Richards wanton pride,
"Forgetting Edwards favours ere he have
"Scarce taken Livery, 'nd seisin of his grave!
"I say no more, but he that dares prophane
"This places sacred rites, and honour'd name,
"God send him need protection here to crave,
"And then deny him that which he would have.
He thinks it now but vain to re-inforce
His routed Arguments; bids take her course,
He meant to draw off his Artillery,
No more t' attempt a female Battery;
But offers up his Faith in hostage to her
To gain consent in what he meant to woe her:
"If she would fraight the Vessell of his care
"But with a prize so rich, he would not feare
"To put in Bond against a Wrack, and free
"Her thoughts from cheating dreams of Pyracy;
"If still her negatives should cloy his sute,
"Hee'd wave his errant, and for e're be mute.
Hereat the Queen such swelling sighes disgorge
As if that Vulcan knocked on the forge
Of her brest, with such astonishing blowes
As the Sicilian heares in Etna's Throwes;
Rivers of tears came springing from her heart,
Ascending to her head did there impart
A dolefull moisture, whose high floods did rise
To flow the swelling channells of her eyes.
But She (not knowing longer to secure
Her tender Child from force of Richards pow'r)
At length bestowes him on their zealous pray'r,
So to oblige (if not command) their care;
Because hee's trusted, to be trusty binds
A noble nature; jealousy enclines
To be dishonest; Faith affords a Spell
Tocharm a Skellum, or an Infidell.
She (taking little York by th' lilly hand)
Doth seem to move, then (musing in a stand)
Fear, hope contest, her colour comes, and goes,
Sometimes the Lilly fallies then the Rose;
She forward steps, revokes it with a start,
Armies of fears besiege her jealous heart:
Phancy presents her now with Crookbacks face,
That loathsome Viper, which had stung her race
To death; here snatching up her Son
(Impris'ned in her armes) she seeks to run
To hide herself: as when a Kite doth hover
O're a brood of Chickens the Hen doth cover
Them in the hollow of her wing. Anon,
The Spectre which appear'd is conjur'd down
By loyall Circles in the Chanc'lours look,
As no bad Comment of his heart the Book.
Thus thredding of the Beads (she ling'ring stayes)
Of hope and fear on wyers of delayes:
Simile
So Iordans sweetest stream is loath to leave
His flowry Banks, to shut his crystall wave
In the salt Seas noysome, pestiferous jail,
But (as he creeps along) still craveth bail,
Loyt'ring in crook'd Meanders, ere he take
His loathsome journey to th' Asphaltick-lake.
"Here is my babe (my Lords) you so desire,
Queen.
"I lend him to your Trusts, and shall require
"Him at your hands (be witnesse heav'n! to this)
"If any thing fall out that is amisse.
"Edward conjures you all (whose Ghoast is come,
"Now speaking to you from Elysium)
"By that great God, whose name you all professe,
"And by your Honours, and your happinesse,
"To take the care of his poore Orphans left
"Void of all Friendship, (if of you hereft:)
"Assure me this, so shall you 'swage my Paine,
"Deny'd, I'le never live to ask again:
"I question not your power, lesse your will
"But that you may the humble sute fulfill
"Of a distressed widow; In your brests
"I lay up all my wordly hope, that rests
"Of fortunes spoyles; Faith I shall look to find
"'Mongst Scythes, & Tartars, if you prove unkind;
"Though Sorrows swelling surges should combine
"To waft me to my grave through seas of brine,
"Yet your unhappy children once may feel
"(Though you now sit o'th' top of Fortunes wheel)
"Such misery as mine; let fortune frown,
"She plucketh up, as fast as shee hath sown.
"To say no more (my Lords) but have a care
"(If I too much) lest you too litle feare.
No further could she speak, but weeps the rest,
Teares Waiters are, when Sorrow makes a Feast;
She cries, to think she's so unwise to cry,
As if too jealous of their loyalty.
Then (clasping of the Duke within her armes)
Her melting bosome new affection warmes:
"Mine own sweet Babe!
Queen.
who I wel thought should be"A stay unto this saplesse, with'ring Tree,
"Which (like a clog) I'm forc'd to bear about
"To keep my eager soul from getting out:
"Whose life I have by such hard labour spun
"Out of my-bowells, that it seems to run
"Equall with mine! To rip thee from my side
"Is death to think, ten Thousand to abide;
"But thou art now no longer mine, but his
"That gave me thee; let this unhappy kisse
"Be the sad seal of a more sad Farewell
"Then wit can paint, or words have pow'r to tell.
"Carry my Love along unto thy Brother,
"O, that 'twere lawfull now to be a mother!
"Relations are but Crimes, nature's enchain'd
"By force unnaturall, and is arraign'd
"By Tyranny, that if the Lion say
"Our feet, are wings, we shall be made his prey.
"Weep not, dear Heart! Let never teares surprise
"The dove-like glances of thy smiling eyes;
"Thy spotlesse soul yet never sinne did bear
"That needeth to be rinsed in a tear:
"Let it suffice that I am thus forlorn,
"And have Thee; by my cares so often born.
"Why hang'st thou thus about my neck? O grief!
"And melt'st my soul to pity for relief!
Then (lips so close contracted) you would guesse
That they had shifted souls at ev'ry Kisse,
And would have spake, but words in teares were drown'd
Departurs painfull instant gave a wound
At which her life-blood seem'd to issue out,
And giddy passions whirl'd her brains about;
(Like as those women, when they celebrate
In Venus Temple, faire Adonis fate.)
She (foll'wing still) pursu'd him with her eyes,
When clouded, breath'd these accents on her knees:
"I seem like wounded Telephus to stand,
"When bleeding under great Achilles hand,
"Whose healing lance (they say) receiv'd the pow'r
"(As to inflict the wound) to work the cure.
"No sear-cloath of mans help can ease my sore,
"To Tent it, does but make my pains the more:
"No Poultess found, no Salve to cure my grief,
"Though I should plunder (for to find relief)
"Great Paracelsus closet. 'Las! my ill
"Surmounteth that curer of Physicks skill.
"To give me rest, what dressing can avail
"But by th' Omnipotent hand, which did assail
"Me first? great god! since thou hast giv'n the wound
"Lord, be my Surgeon too, since none is found!
Now Richards talons having seaz'd his prey,
He quickly truss'd it up, and hy'd away.
First shall the Carpet Knight (that sents of Musk)
(Drawing no Rap'er but his Ladies Busk)
Kill armed squadrons with her looking glasse;
And Ajax swound with magick of a face:
First the advent'rous Seaman shall not fail
To the Molucca's in a skiffe to sail,
Or crosse the line in Iohn Tredescants boate,
Which he 'mongst Lambeth miracles doth quote;
First shall our wooden Castles find a way
By North unto rich China, or Cathay;
That fretum Davis may no longer bound
Our Maps (benummed in the frozen Sound)
'Fore Edwards tender plants (he left behind)
Can spread under a Planet so unkind
As Gloster, who is chief ascendant now,
Slaying and swaying with imperious brow.
Now have we lodg'd the Princes in the Tow'r,
Waiting, till Time shall strike their latest hour.
And here my tender Muse could think it best
Rather to sit, and weep, then speak the rest:
'Twould be a task more pleasing to my quill,
To crown the Princes, then their blood to spill;
Could I perform (as well as it was meant)
Fourth Edwards dying Will, and Testament,
My verse should dance a Galiard, and revoke
(Brave Brandon like) the sturdy staves of oake,
And in those royall Jousts should tell you
Most lances splinter'd; after that should goe
And harnesse out the doves for Venus coach,
And then (perhaps) set gen'rous wines abroach.
I next (to please your stomachs) would prepare
Cost-craving Viands, and to strike your eare,
A consort of such heav'nly musick bring
As if Apollo perch'd upon each string:
And (lest some sense might go unravished)
Your eyes on hansome Ladies had been fed,
Where, at such banquets, men (too oft unwise)
Doe pine their hearts in feasting of their eyes;
And (on a gallant Courser) last of all
Have ush'red Valiant
The Kings Champion.
Dimmock to the Hall,Whose Gantlet should have giv'n a brave to Fate,
Proving all quarrels illegitimate.
Fain would my Muse lay sadder thoughts aside,
And longer in this Temp'rate Clime abide;
(Such Subjects suting her complexion best
As are least Sanguine, and which blush the least)
But in their journey Travellers must on,
And next I come to Richards torrid Zone,
Whose heat indeed was so intolerable,
That for the Princes 'twas not habitable.
Should elder Kings now rise out of their graves,
'Twould puzle them to find the English laws,
Unlesse old Records should direct them best,
Not copies (blurr'd) in a disloyall brest.
Those, which had most in stake, were standers by,
And sat in counsell but through courtesy,
Some of whose names were nocht in Neroes tally,
As those black victims which he meant to rally
On Deaths recruit. Goodnesse was Antick grown,
In that age, no vertue was in fashion.
Simile.
'Tis said, when flowry Sicily was divorc'd
From Italy, (by Neptunes armes accross'd)
Some loving palms retain'd a Sympathy,
And (bowing each to other) did defie
The spitefull Element. Some few I see
Still courting vertue in her poverty,
Though she was cloath'd in rags, and in disgrace,
Lov'd her, not for her dowry but her face.
In blustring storms some chose their grapes to gather,
Making their sweetest Hay in foulest weather,
With breath of Honour, and with silver Oars
(Such as were us'd by Cleopatra's row'rs)
Plie Richards gally with a sweating hand,
In a blind mist to bring him safe to land.
From Ioves all-piercing eye could mortalls shroud
Their sooty sinnes, (wrapt in a darker cloud)
Mankind would perish in a bloody swound,
And onely monsters live, to walk the round,
And first 'tis Hastings turn to quit the stage,
He doffs his head, et exit in a rage;
(Stafford shall live a while, to set a crown
On Richards head, and after lose his own,
To hatch the Serpents eggs, and nothing gain
But hisses, and their poyson for his pain.)
He had a priest to shreive him in the Tow'r,
And all the world forgave at's dying hour,
Though with himself; and Gloster, I scarce see
How he could die in perfect charitie,
For hear him thus lamenting of his fate.
(Repent repêntance! when thou com'st so late)
"This load weighs not so heavy, as the hand
"That layes it on; nor shamefully to stand
"A victime to the sword, but for to see
"That I a Sacrifice am made by thee,
"Who, for to raise the Out-works of thy crown,
"Slighted the Brest-work of my Faith: to drown
"Where I expected Palms, and all my suits
"Blasted like Sodoms most accursed fruits;
"To tread on Thorns, when men of my deserts
"Are Crown'd with roses; Heav'ns, how it smarts!
"Is this to build the seat of Tyranny,
"To pull those stayers down he climbed by?
"Loathing the fight of our guilt-striking faces,
"As Debtors do of Bayliffs, to whose Graces
"They owe the payment of those borrow'd sums
"Of favours lent unto such bankrupt sons.
"Had I serv'd God, with so sincere Religion,
"As I have tend'red to his damn'd Ambition,
"I never at his hands should need t' have cry'd
"Mercy! O mercy! and been thus deny'd.
"O, could my-brine-steep'd prayers now prevail
"To cut off from my Children this Intail
"Of wickednesse! 'Tis Grace must sue a Fine
"To cut off sins Reversion from my line!
"Though Gloster seems to cut down ev'ry Tree
"That clouds th' ambitious prospect of his eye,
"One sturdy Oak may yet remain unslain,
"Of which (at length) he may his gallows claim.
"Well, this Revenge I'le take, I'le on before
"In Domes-dayes book to write so dire a score,
"When Richards conscience shall read the tally,
"The Stygian flames shal lighten through the sally
"Of an infernall blush. Beware the shelf
"Statesmen! where I (unhappy) split my self.
Who lendeth (Hastings!) to a Tyrant, shall
Lose both his Interest, and Principall;
Their Maxim is, they may the charges save
Of paying wages to desert, a Grave
Is full discharge, and seems to cancell all
Claimes, and demands that were, or ever shall;
Tis a cheap trick, to quarrell such from hence
Whose over merit was their worst offence.
But ah! my understanding's stricken blind
T'record a passage, that now comes in mind;
At the same time the Lords at Pomfret dy'd
(So Fate had taught her rowling wheels to slide)
Ensnar'd by Hastings, the same day, and hour
Was he himselfe cut shorter in the Tow'r;
But thou, my Muse! dare not with feeble wings
Soar to the height of Gods eternall things,
(Forgetting that thy plumes can't raise thee high't
Then the ground) but alwaies learn t' admire
His mystick Secrets, which none know but they
That have shak't off the luggage of their clay.
Gloster (knowing such crownes are hedg'd with thorn,
As are upon usurping foreheads worn)
Takes Stafford for a glove, whose Eloquence
Might break the hedge, or pluck them from the fence:
(Like as the Ape made use of Pusses foot
To scrape the embers for the roasted nut)
Hee's now in labour, and the Gossyps come
Wondring to see such struglings in the womb
Of his design; the throwes are violent,
And one in hast is for a midwise sent,
('Twas strange to hear that Richard waited him,
When few beleev'd he was so near his Time)
This part was Staffords, who did here great sted
By's skill, to bring Ambition [...]e a bed.
False Buckingham (whose tongue's the onely part
In him I can commend) had learn'd the art
To broach what ever he had barrel'd up,
(Not like to some, which have more bung, then tap)
Opening the golden floudgates of his throat
He charm'd the people with a pleasing note,
And (mounted on a high Tribunall) spake,
(Fitter't had been a Gibbet, or a Stake)
Stroaking the vulgar beast in lushions stile,
As made it stand wide gaping all the while
(Like as (they say) the Egyptian Crocodile,
When Trochilus picks his teeth:) there is a Time
"He saith, when Heaven doth to States designe
"To carve out Happinesse, they must expect
"Never to cut so well, if they neglect:
"Coy Virgins, which refuse to pluck their May,
"May sighting sit, but long enough may stay.
"The Blessing to this Isle (so long was meant)
"God (by the Duke of Gloster) now hath sent;
"A Prince so fit for rule, that should we slight,
"The tender is too good for such despight.
"'Tis he will doe in Kingdomes what the brain
"Of pregnant Archimedes ne're could sain,
"In scatt'ring all the brutish fogs, which rest
"I'ch' brackish fens of mans ungovern'd brest,
"Through Justice, (which, if once of this berest,
"The largest Kingdome, is the greatest Theft.)
"If that this worlds great All be subt'ly fram'd
"Into a Harp (as by Synesius nam'd)
"Hee'll winde the strings, and move the fingers so,
"That sweet-life breathing Ayres thence shal flow;
"Composing well that Musick-book of white,
"And blacker notes, and tune them to delight;
"Being in Libra alwaies known to sit,
"Ordering affairs as the day, and night
"(When Sol runs round the girdle of the year)
"Do in the yernall Equinox appear.
To make it short; his Word-robe was you see
Set out wich flowers of Embroidery,
Save that this generall sault it did contain,
Each colour's counterseit, and hone in grain,
Like to a writhel'd Carion I have seen
(In stead of fifty, write her down fifteen)
Wearing her bought complexion in a box,
And ev'ry morn her closet-sace unlocks,
Plants cherries in her cheeks, her eye she chears,
And with her pencill cancells thirty years;
Opening her lustfull windows, which are shown
Nigh to the navell o're with Lillies sown,
(Clad in the ruins of a Brokers shop)
Her musky mouth she practiseth to ope
To a just size; by magick of her glasse
She learneth how to set Spells in her face
So long, till (with her poysned past) she get
Some witlesse gallant for to take the bait;
And nothing can his love-sick heat asswage
(Burning far hotter then the Dog-days rage)
But day and night God Hymen doth invoke
Till they are coupled in the wedding yoke:
But thinking (in the morn) to kisse his bride,
He finds an ugly Proserpine by's side,
Smelling all over like a Surgeons box
Of salves, and unguents, if she scape the—
Then let me dye, if any vice can say
It more deserves the great Anathema
Of all mankind, then this, which seeks t'entrap
By nearest unto vertue keeping Shop,
The silly Bird when she the fowler spies
Approaching her with blear, and running eyes,
Rowling in's crafty hands a pair of beads,
From this same holy man she nothing dreads,
Till at the length full tremblingly she stands
A prey to th' blood, and rapine in his hands,
In all Heav'ns court there's ne're a deity
But deeply suffers by Hypocrisy.
Having wound up the bottome of his speech,
The Duke stood listning, seeming to beseech
A Plaudit from the 'maz'd circumstants, who
Were speechlesse, like pale Images of dough,
And could not all raise such a Stock of breath
As made up a reply; as if that death
Had by the fatall Sisters then been sent
To seise upon their clayey Tenement:
So fat from hugging of such thoughts as these,
Their loyall hearts were all Antipodes.
Taking their silence for a joint consent
H' interprets counter what the people meant,
Saluting Gloster King; (which welcome peal
Was onely by his servants rung, through zeal
Unto their Lords commands) but could not hire
A voice in Consort with Rebellions quire.
[...]uck.
"Though 'twould perplex your Highnesse to account"How high the Audit of your vertues mount
"(Esteeeming more (as oft I've heard you say)
"Well to deserve, then for to wear the Bay:)
"Yet they which sue to Heav'ns high-bribeless hall
"Find not the Ramparts so impregnable,
"As not to yeeld unto the Battery
"Of th' humble Croud, with importunity:
"Yeeld mighty Prince! That we at length may see
"Our sweat wip'd of b'a blissefull Jubilee;
"Make (Sir) this day the leader of that yeer!
"Wee'll dresse it in a golden character.
"Phancy but now how some old Anchorite,
Simile.
(Whose Cat's his Comrade, and a mile out-right
Is India, who doth adore his Lar
'Mongst smoke, and cobwebs, and his choicest fare
Cabadges, and Turneps) would stand to hear
His wond'ring self saluted Emperour;
So Richard feign'd himself, seem'd not to know,
Though Stafford pac'd, but as hee'd have him goe.
Richard
"I crave (my Lord) you'ld not disturb my ease
"(Since of the world I've lately begg'd the peace)
"With motions like to these, and onely tend
"To further quarrells which may yet depend.
"How hath old time already mock'd at them
"Whose doating humours seem'd to court a name,
"Seeking Chimeraes, or a happinesse
"Whose chiefest blessing is forgetfulnesse?
"Here vain Semiramis doth cause my laughter,
"Who knockt the mountains till they gigg'd her feature
No-wiser Phaspho preach'd so long to birds
"(Teaching them well to lisp in humane words)
"That Crowes, and Parrats after might adore
"Him as a God, that was an Asse before:
"Let Romes Caligula set up the figure
"Of's head upon the trunk of Inpiter,
("Whose pride to such a blasphemy was lead,
"To quarter with his God his brains and head)
"A higher peg yet did those Heroes strain
"Whose merits could triumphall arches gain,
"Columns of brasse, or Porph'ry Canopies,
"Hang'd all about with prowesse, victories;
"Yet Obelisks sha'nt stand without a stilt,
"And Pyramids upon the ground are spilt,
"When all their stones shal into grave-stones turn,
"Who's then a King, when all the world's an um
"What's Honour, but a Beldams midnight theam,
"Or else some nodding nurses idle dream?
"Ratles for children, like their making pyes
"Of clay, and dirt, and laught at by the wise.
"A shadow right, which while I seeke to flee,
"See with what speed, see how it follows mee!
"You make me blush to hear such worth in me,
"When men I know of rich ability,
"Who can more wisdome for the gleanings leave
"Then ye from my whole Vintage can receive.
"Choose some young sprightly Gallant, which may wet
"In blood his Laurels, stew them in his sweat,
"Whose life is lightning, 's word a thunderclap,
"That (though the ancient Giants kept the gap)
"His Trophies should break through; whose skin of steel
"Dares stand a leaden Shower, and not feel
"Dull sleep at night; whose high atcheivements may
"Make Fortune charge under his conqu'red pay.
"Alas, my with'red arme, and wrinkled skin
"Speaks me not for Crowns, but for a Coffin,
"The worms already 'gin to cramp my feet,
"No robe's in season but a winding sheet:
"'Tis time for me to take me to my Cell,
"My Brother
George Duke of Clarence Brothes to Edw. the 4 drowned in a But of Malmsey by the secret contrivance of the Duke of Gloster at was thought
Clarence Choast doth seem to spell"Strange Magick now unto my rowzed fears,
"The But (me thinks) doth cry in Malmsey tears.
"I'le onely hang to th' earth by th' slender root
"Of nature, that when death shall pluck my foot
"I may be sooner loosned; then I'le strive
"Some devout souls to get (that are alive,)
"(Whose word goes further thē my bond in heav'n)
"To put up prayers for me each day seav'n,
"So (these acquainted better there then I)
"Their votes shall doe my soul a courtesy.
"My Liege! (speaks Buckingham) we have of late
"Felt many dangerous feavers in our State,
"And by most cunning Letches it is said
"We can't doe well, untill we change our bed.
"The Banes 'twixt Englands scepter, & your hand
"Are now out ask'd; see how we thronging stand
"Now (with a mighty humme) to vouch it so,
"And drown with louder found your pow'rfulne,
Still did Third Richard (seemingly) deny
To take the Ensignes up of royalty;
Perhaps he might a little Maid-state use,
She feignes her coy, whose servant hotly woes:
Else (pedlar-like) refus'd to ope his stall
Untill the market's full; as best of all
To vent deceitfull wares, when people buy
Not out-of Judgement, but for company.
Some heards of silly souls at last consent
To pay their suffrages, as a quit Rent
Due to th' example of the greater Peers;
'Tis an ill Tenure for to hold by th' Ears:
They morgage Man, and are but Beasts at most,
That make o're Reason unto Feoff's in Trust.
A few well-centred souls did keep their Tense,
Not wildly stagg'ring to th' Circumference;
But ('twixt the fixed Poles of Faith, and Love)
They found the Axle-tree on which to move:
Some others (tost with Storms of discontent)
Whose giddy brains turn'd round the Government,
(Whilst they dispute o'th' Scepter, Crosse, and Ball)
Made their Alleg'ance meerly Scepticall.
Thus (modest soul! full fore against his will)
They Gloster so with arguments compell
To take the royall Purple: Brave designe!
Hell, keep no pattern of't for after Time!
To grant thy friends requests, 'twas Courtesy;
Promote the publick good, 'twas Piety;
Here thy Ambition may sit crowned too,
Three stroaks so wisely driven with one blow!
Thus touch one string of th' Lyre,
Simile.
& 'twill reboundThrough all the quire, and multiplie the sound.
Now pulpits ring, (whence those shrill Trumpets are
That oft alarum Consciences to warre:)
A Sorbon Doctor fills a viall up
Of Stygian puddle, and commends the cup
To an Assembly, onely met to hear
A Preacher, not the devills Barrister.
He names his Text (which when he first unlocks,
'Twas like the opening of Pandora's box)
That spurious slips should take but slender root:
Sapien. [...]
From whence this Doctrine quickly started up
(Wrap'd in a hidden mystery of State)
Clarence, and Edward's illegitimate,
Got on the Duchesse in Adultery,
'Twas the right doore they past, but not they Key.
Then (more) he pleads 'gainst Edward's sonnes an Act
Of Bastardy, made by a Pre-contract
With Dame Elizabeth Lucy; who confest
The King to her had so much love exprest
She bore away her belly full; beside
A firme engagement to be made his bride;
(The truth o'nt was, the over credulous Maid
Did take the earnest fore the Bargain made.)
Then he proceeds to Use, as much forlorn,
And unto Yorks old Duke applies the horn.
Was ever Text so mis'rably undone,
With Doctrine false, and Application?
Sure such Divinity first came from Hell;
Teach Truth to lie, and Law for to rebell?
Was it not strange Gloster would sit to hear
These words, and not suspend the Minister?
How would you wonder then, if I should tell
He first contrived what the Priest should spell?
Ungracious son! which with so foul a shame
Blush not to brand thy Parents sacred name;
Although 'tis easy for to cure the wound,
Yet on their credits may a scar be found.
Reader! what yet th' hast seen, was but a Type
Of higher Phrensy, which ev'n now is ripe.
Crookbuck well knows (i'th' Vessell of a Throan)
A wary Merchant will admit but one
Adventurer to share: and now the Port
Of Edward shrinks, to widen Richards Court;
Nay, some were sent, whose lesson was to con
The language of a Nod, and motion
Of either eye, the dialect of's Hands,
T'observe the Grammar of his Fingers ends:
This seem'd to loosen so the Princes joints
That he scarce ever after ty'd his points,
As thinking with himself, expensive care
A falling house is needlesse to repaire.
But one day he (as willing for to hear
Some newes of th' other world) whisp'red the ear
Of one of his Attendants, "You now see
"Us in a state beneath our quality;
"You know both who I am, and how that I
"In former times could blesse a Courtesy
"With a warm beam of Favour: say, what Starres
"Are chiefe Ascendants now in these affaires?
"Tell us, how looks the Horizon? Is it clear?
"Speak, to what end my Unckle keeps us here?
"What boot would I now give (to ease my mind)
"Twixt a free Plowboy, and a Prince confin'd!
"Here's nought to our inquiring eyes appears
"But the bare Sceleton of walls, and Bars.
"Is this the pleasure to be left a King!
"Have Crowns such thornes! do Scepters use to sting!
"This is a Prentice-Princedome; royalty
"Hath scarce the name of specious slavery;
"Nay, yonder boyes, (that I see playing by)
"Do seem to me to King it more then I.
"What have we done? who can relate the fact?
"We're Princes born, that was our fathers act;
"And have there ever such a Law been seen
"That we should dy for our Originall sin?
"My Crown will ne're sit well without a sweat
"Upon his head, yet I'le bequeath him that,
"And feed upon his basket that doth give
"Orphans a pension, and their wants relieve;
"We will to him for help our selves apply
"That feeds the hungry Ravens, when they cry:
"Our Birthrights take, the blessing leave unto us
"Of sweetest life, and do'nt of that undoe us.
The Ravens flocking so to Richards Court,
Were thought by many wisemen to import
Some sudden funerall; which shall insue
Ere Cynthia shuts her golden horns in Mue.
Where's the lame Fire-God? Is the lease expir'd
Of his Sicilian forge, and ca'nt be hir'd
To lend us a swift Thunderbolt, in season
To crush the head of high-aspiring Treason,
Of such ill-boding Comets as do muffle
The world in flames, and Kingdomes in a scuffle?
His sword (which late at Pomfret brake the fast)
Feeds to a surfeit, having got a tast,
And (having eat of many a courser dish)
To close his Stomach he begins to wish
His two young Nephews, and for them doth call
(As sweet meats) to be serv'd in last of all
Warm blood's a Cordiall, and he ca'nt digest
Untill he takes a draught of this at last.
His ripe designe hath now act ain'd full age;
And taken forth out of its pupillage;
He onely lacks a Tenant for to farm
The Princes blood; but amongst all the swarm
Of villanized men, not one's content
To take the Loase, and pay so high a rent;
Untill Raviliac Tyrrell dar'd to seal
The damn'd Indentures, through a cursed zeal
For to be known Hells masterpiece to be,
The Devills None such for iniquity.
Richard doth likewise for himselfe contract
To throw in so much gold shall poize the act.
I've often heard, there is a time will call
That the best thrift when men are prodigall,
But he that ca'nt in Promises be rich
I'le swear him Bankrupt, in the backhouse ditch.
Hell hath no wares to fell, but instantly
Earth yeelds a Chapman will as gladly buy.
(As loath to see) now the condoling Sun
(The horrid murther which was acted soon)
Had clos'd his eye-lids in the crystall streams,
Losing his light, as if he wept his beams;
(Muffled in cloaks of clouds) he leaves the day
In widowhood, lest otherwise he may
Be Accessary thought unto the sin
Which the approaching night did usher in.
When Sleep (the Plowmans friend, & ease of Kings)
Had dropt a silence from her drowsy wings
Upon the restlesse motions of the day,
Which (with his leaden mace arrested) lay
With senses all entomb d; these Princely Boyes,
Sporting a while with pretty harmlesse Toyes,
As put-pin, draw-gloves, in his hair this ties
Fast Knots, whilst that looks Babies in his eyes,
At Handy Dandy, Hide-seek, Love me best,
Till sleep came in, and stole them both to rest.
Where (sweetly snugging) (like two tender vines)
They wreath'd embraces into closest twines;
Love, waited on by all the choycest Graces,
Seem'd to flie round about their Angel-faces,
They strictly met with so espous'd a lip
As if they seem'd each others soul to sip.
A sight like this might ravish cruelty,
And melt the heart of Tygres into pity.
Tyrrell (the stain of all that ever wore
The name of Christian) cometh to the Towre,
Let me not scare thee Reader, whilst I bend
My pencill (briefly) to describe the fiend.
A wreath of Snakes (in stead of hair) did crawl
About his head, and down his shoulders fall;
A Basilisk did look through either eye,
[...] face annealed by the flames that flye
[...]rom Hells sulphrious womb; about his neck
[...] chain of Curses hang, and at his back
[...]aiteth Repentance (ready to depart)
With tear-swoln eyes, and Vultures at her heart:
[...]n his hands he holdeth a Commission
Written in blood by th' Prince of Acheron,
[...]nd to his side a Faulch'on girded have
Was seven ties dipped in the Stygian wave;
Upon his girdle he a Bottell wears
Once fill'd with widowes, & poor Orphans tears,
But with the coldnesse of his heart alone
[...]s there congeal'd into a marble stone.
His soul is cald i'th' Leopards spotted pelt,
His bowells Iron, and unapt to melt;
Terrour, and Shame doth lead him by the hand.
He doth of the Lieutenant straight demand
The Keyes; old
Sir Robert Brakenbury Lieutenant of the Tower
Brakenbury mustBe for a night coustrain'd to quit his Trust.
His soul (proving too chast for such a sute)
Disdain'd to be the Devills prostitute,
But (when the Tyrant woo'd him) made defence,
And still took Sanctuary at Conscience,
Wisht him to try the mettle of his hand
Upon the Touch-stone of some brave command,
Saying that man deserves not to be seen
A Traytor, onely feares to act a sinne.
Tyrrell (all whose desire was to see
Two more such Villains in the world as He)
Dighton, and Forrest finds (whose names condemne
Them to the deserts from the sight of men:)
These Three (Hell could not out of all her store
(Were but their pattern lost shew three such more)
Ent'red the Chamber where the Princes slept,
And with blood-dropping feet these Ruff'ans stept
Unto the Bed, (the guilty Tapers wink,
The sweating Floore doth underneath them sink)
But stricken with the rayes reflexions,
That lightned from such sweet complexions,
These Marbles moistned, tears in Ambush lay
So close as if conspiring to betray
Their hearts to Pity: but (lest any sence
Might ope a doore to let in Conscience)
They strength'ned so their guards that ne're a part
Could be surprized by relenting smart.
Throwing themselves upon the youths, they presse
Their tender limbs, quick-strugling for redresse,
Stuffing their throats with pillowes, so to choke
Their wofull cries, whose accent might provoke
An iron Soul to melt, whose very sight
Might strain a teare from Gete, or Troglodite.
Simile.
But as a Rock i'th' Ocean stands (unmov'd)
Against Heav'ns Thunder, and the raging flood
Beneath: no more these salvage Lestrigons,
Constrain'd to pity with their cries, or groanes,
Would ought desist, untill their souls were fled,
Leaving the dead-stiffe limbs upon the bed.
Their bodies found a homely Sepulcher,
Which at the Stayers foot they did interre,
Under a heap of Stone, which well we may
Call
Gen. 31.47. A heap of witness.
Iegar Sahadutha unto this dayThus were the Princes (like the two twin-starres
Which guilded with their rayes our British spheres)
By the untimely hand of ruthlesse Fate
Massacred even at the Temple gate
Of Honour, whose succeeding ages summe
Might bud with Trophies, and with wonders bloom
Simile.
Like as we see a hopefull Provis-Rose(Which for to dresse some pleasant garden growe [...])
Of the same Scarlet make a Tomb at night,
Which was a Cradle in the morning light.
There is one Knot yet in the History
The Reader may expect I should untie;
Whether Buckingham were at all alli'd
To this Heav'n-scaling, horrid Regicide:
But since my Muse hath ta'ne him in her Round,
And some disloyall Pranks already found,
(Giving no good account of his Commission)
She justly may attach him on suspition.
Some rare Apelles here my pencill take,
(If such a Piece be possible to make)
And shadow out the griefe-slain Pourtraiture
Of Edwards Queen, when she this newes did heare:
Since no such art inspires my Muses brest,
I'le draw the Curtain, which shall hide the rest.
FINIS.