Book Read Free

Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

Page 38

by Michael Drayton


  The roofe of garlands, crownes, and ensignes is,

  In midst of which a christall Pyramis:

  All ouer caru’d with men of most renowne,

  Whose base is my faire chaire, the spire my crowne.

  53

  Here in the bodies likenes whilst it liues,

  Appeare the thoughts, proceeding from the mind,

  To which the place a forme more glorious giues,

  And there they be immortally deuin’d,

  By vertue there more heauenly refin’d;

  And when the earthly body once doth perrish,

  There doth this place the minds true Image cherish.

  54

  My beauty neuer fades, but as new borne,

  As yeares encrease, so euer waxing young,

  My strength is not diminished nor worne,

  What weakneth all things, euer makes me strong:

  Nor from my hand, my Scepter can be wroong:

  Times sacriligious rapine I defie,

  A tributarie to eternitie.

  55

  The face of heauen my chronicles containe,

  Where I erect the Tropheis of my fame,

  Which there in glorious characters remaine,

  The gorgeous feeling of th’immortall frame,

  The constellations letters of my name,

  Where my memorialls euermore abide,

  In those pure bodies highly glorified.

  56

  FAME ending thus, Fortune againe began

  Further to vrge what she before had said,

  And loe (quoth she) Duke Robert is the man

  Who by my might and pollicie’s betraid,

  Then let vs see how thou canst lend him aide:

  I tooke from him his libertie and crowne,

  Raise thou him vp, who I haue thus thrown downe.

  57

  Quoth Fame a fitter instance is there none

  Then Robert is, then Fortune doe thy worst:

  Here may thy weaknes, and my power be showne,

  Here shall I blesse, whom thou before hast curst,

  Begin thou then, since thus thy turne comes first,

  And thou shalt see how great a power I haue

  Ouer the world, proud Fortune, and the graue.

  58

  (Quoth Fortune) then, my hand did point the Star,

  The seale wherwith heauen sign’d his vtmost date,

  Which markt his birth with brands of bloody war,

  Rash mutinys, rude garboiles, harsh debate,

  His forrain plagues, home wrongs, & priuate hate:

  And on the height of his great Fathers glory,

  First laid the ground work of his Sonnes sad story.

  59

  Nature, which did her best at Roberts birth,

  I most vndid in his natiuitie,

  This friend I made his greatest foe on earth,

  Her gifts I made his greatest enemie,

  Framing such mildnes in Nobilitie:

  Differing so far from haughtie Williams straine,

  That thus hee iudg’d his Sonne vnfit to raigne.

  60

  And yet that courage which he did inherit,

  And from the greatnes of his blood had taken,

  Stird vp with griefe, awakes this greater spirit,

  Which more and more did Williams hate awaken,

  Hee thus forsaken, as hee had forsaken:

  Yet to his will so partiallie inclind,

  As now his rage, his reason quite doth blind.

  61

  Now doe I leane to him whom all haue left,

  Laughiug on him, on whom dispaire doth lowre,

  Lending him hope, of former hope berest,

  Giuing his youth large wings wherwith to towre,

  Ayding his power, to crosse great Williams power:

  That so his might, in countermaunding might

  By his owne wrong, might hinder his owne right.

  62

  That whilst his Fathers sierie tempered sword

  Through Albions cleeues, that fatall entrance made,

  With Germaine power, returnes this youthfull Lord,

  With others Armes, his owne bounds to inuade,

  And Normandy lyes coucht vnder his blade,

  Thinking to make a present meane of this,

  To make his owne yet doubtfull to be his.

  63

  Towards Williams end, now Williams hate begun,

  Whom he begot, doth now beget his woe,

  He scarse a Father, Robert scarse a Sonne,

  His Sonne the Father fo his ouerthrowe,

  Youth old in will, age young in hate doth growe:

  He nursing that which doth all mischiefe nurse,

  He by his blessing, causing his owne curse.

  64

  And yet least age might coole Duke Williams blood,

  With warrs in Fraunce I still the heate suppli’d,

  That whilst young Robert yet disgrace stood

  Iustly condemn’d of insolence and pride,

  In this confirm’d, the famous Conqueror di’d:

  Setting proud Rufus on his regall throne,

  Whilst Norman Robert striues but for his owne.

  65

  Much trust in him, a carelesnes first bred,

  His courage makes him ouer-confident,

  Blinding reuenge, besides his course him led,

  When lost his wits, in errors darknes went,

  Rashnes sees all, but nothing can preuent:

  What his mind loth’d, disgrace did vrge him to,

  Making his will the cause of his owne woe.

  69

  This buried trunck of William is the roote

  From which these two world-shadowing branches spred,

  This factious body standing on this foote,

  These two crosse currents springing fro one head,

  And both with one selfe nutriment are fed,

  Vpon themselues their owne force so should spend.

  Till in themselues, they both themselues shold end.

  67

  Thus the old conquest hath new conquests made,

  And Norman Ensignes shaddow English fields,

  The brother now, the brother must muade,

  The conquerors shield, against ye conquerors shield,

  Right wounding right, nor wrong to wrong will yield:

  One arme beare off the others furious stroke,

  Scepter with Scepter, sword with sword be broke.

  68

  The hatefull soiles where death was sown in blood,

  Encreasing vengeance one against the other,

  And now the seede of wrath began to bud,

  Which in their bosoms they so long did smother,

  These but as bastards, England their step mother;

  Weakning her selfe, by mallice giues them strength

  With murdring hands to spoile theselues at length.

  69

  This Williams death, giues Roberts troubls life,

  Whose life in death made lucklesse Robert liue,

  This end of strife, beginneth greater strife,

  Giuing to take, what it did take to giue,

  Liuing depriu’d, which dead doth him depriue;

  Euill brought good, that good conuerts to ill,

  Thus life and death breed Roberts mischiefe still.

  70

  When first King William entred on this Ile,

  Harrold had friends, but then the Norman none,

  But Rufus liued here as an exile,

  And Robert hop’d to raigne of many a one,

  Onely my hand held vp his slyding throne:

  William but weake, beats Harold down by wrong,

  William supplanting Robert, Robert strong.

  71

  Odo the prop which Rufus power vpheld,

  Reuolting then, inrag’d with Lansrancks spight,

  And on this hope grounding his faith, rebell’d, might:

  In bloody letters writing
Roberts right,

  Great Mortayns power, and strong Mountgomeres

  Mangling this Ile with new deformed scars;

  Ere peace had cur’d the wounds of former wars.

  72

  The Normans glory in the conquest won,

  The English bruzed with their battred Armes,

  The Normans followed what they had begun,

  The English fearefull of their former harmes,

  What cooles the English, Norman corage warms:

  The Normans entred to new victorie,

  The English for their fight already flie,

  73

  Whilst Rufus hopes thus freshly bleeding lay,

  And now with ruine all things went to wrack,

  Destruction hauing found the perfect way,

  Were not proud Robert by some meanes kept back

  By fond delayes, I forc’d him time to slack:

  And stopt the mischiefe newly thus begun,

  To vndoe all what he before had done.

  74

  Thus first by counsell spurr’d I on the rage,

  Forcing the streame of their distempred blood,

  Then by my counsaile, did againe aswage,

  When this great Duke secure of conquest stood,

  Pyning his force, giuing aduantage foode;

  That first by taking Arms, he strength might loose,

  And making peace, giue strength vnto his foes.

  75

  A peace concluded to destroy their peace,

  A suddaine truce to breed a lingring war,

  That Arms might cease, while mischiefe might increase,

  To bring death neere, by sending safety far,

  In making that, which made, all quite might mar:

  Treason crept in by this adulterate kay,

  Into the closset where his counsailes lay.

  76

  Thus made a friend, to rob him of his friend,

  The meanes a foe, might weaken so his foe,

  To frame this strange beginning to his end,

  The well-cast plot or vtter ouerthrowe,

  In this faire vizard, masking in this showe:

  That since hate thus in wearing would not proue,

  He brings him now in habite of his loue.

  77

  Thus reconcil’d by me, one to the other,

  Ioyn’d in this poore deuided vnion,

  These brothers now make war vpon their brother,

  As loth from them he should goe free alone,

  To shape his mischiefe truly by their owne;

  To drawe on griefe, and vrge it to be more,

  Because it came not fast enough before.

  78

  This by fore-sight still wisely prouident

  To spur them on beyond degrees of ill,

  To make their furie far more violent,

  And ground their ruine on their peeuish will,

  That mischiefe should be getting mischiefe still:

  That iniurie so far should pitty chase,

  As reconcilement neuer should take place.

  79

  And here to shew my power on thee poore Fame,

  I made thee now my greatest instrument,

  That in the furie of this raging flame,

  Euen in the height of Henryes discontent,

  To Roberts eares the brute of war I sent:

  Of Palaestine that leauing all with them,

  He might away to great Ierusalem.

  80

  With that sweet fume of honors shortest breath,

  Feeding the humor which possest his hart,

  When now drew on the time of Williams death,

  That in this fatall hower he should depart,

  Herein to shew my very depth of Art:

  That Henry now in England left alone,

  Might seate himselfe in Roberts rightfull throne.

  81

  The warlick Musique of these clattring Armes,

  Doth stop his eares like a tempestious wind

  That now he finds no presage of his harmes,

  Beyond all course so lifted is his mind,

  Declaring well the greatnes of his kind;

  Mounted so high within the spacious ayre,

  As out of sight of ground, he dreads no snare.

  82

  His Father dy’d when first his cares tooke breath,

  His Brother dyes, now when his woes should die,

  His sorrowes thus are strangely borne in death,

  All-ending death, brings forth his miserie,

  Such is my power in humaine destenie:

  That where an vtter ruine I pretend,

  Destruction doth begin, where hate should end.

  83

  Thus laid the complot in the course of all,

  I make his safetie vnto him more deare,

  Seated, from whence he neuer thought to fall,

  Assur’d of good, if any good there were,

  That now each thought a Scepter seems to beare:

  Which such a hold in his great spirit doth winne,

  As after, made his error prooue his sinne.

  84

  With grace young Henry to his throne I bring

  Making great friends of mighty enemies,

  She wing my power in this new raigning King,

  As by my hand inuisibly to rise,

  Decking his crowne with worldly dignities:

  Forging his tongue with such a sacred fire,

  As could perswade, what ere he would desire.

  85

  In Palaestine with Robert, Fame doth rest,

  In England with young Beauclark, Fortune bides,

  These mightie Ladies, of these Lords possest,

  Thus each of these, with each of these deuides,

  Thus weare we factious then on either sides:

  Fame sor braue Short-thigh, purchasing renowne,

  Fortune for Beauclark, for the English crowne.

  86

  Thou wooest, I win, thou suest, and I obtaine,

  What I possesse, that onely thou dost craue,

  Thou layest out to gaine, but what I gaine

  Thou dost desire, I in possession haue,

  Thou hordst, I spend, I lauish, thou dost saue:

  Thou scarsely art, yet that thou art to mee,

  Thou wouldst, I can, thou seruile, I am free.

  87

  Robert growne weake, Henry recouered strength,

  What quencht the Normans glory, sir’d his will,

  Robert is fallen, Henry got vp at length,

  Robert no guide, Henry is steerd with skill,

  Grounding his good on lucklesse Roberts ill:

  Their mutuall courage, and vnmooued hate,

  Tels Henryes rise, decline of Roberts state.

  88

  From perrils safe, no place at home he sees,

  Abroad he wins, at home he still doth lose,

  At home, wasted with ciuill enemies,

  Whilst he abroad is conquering forraine foes,

  Wasting at home, more then abroad he growes:

  At home his daunger vnto many knowne,

  Yet he abroad is carelesse of his owne.

  89

  Now bring I Robert from these glorious wars,

  Triumphing in the conquered Pagans flight,

  From forraine broiles to toile in home-nurst iars,

  From getting others Lands, for’s owne to fight,

  Forced by wrong, by sword to claime his right:

  And with that sword in Panyms blood imbrude,

  To saue himselfe, by his own friends pursude.

  90

  Thus he’s inrich’d with that he cannot see,

  With few vaine titles swelling in his name,

  And all his substance but meere shadowes be,

  Whilst he strange castles in the aire doth frame,

  Lo such a mighty Monarchesse is Fame:

  That, what she giues, so easie is to beare,

  As of those gifts, none robbin
g need to feare.

  91

  This whets his spleene, but doth his strength abate,

  Much care for coyne, makes care for kingdoms lesse

  His feeblenes must hold vp Henries state,

  These beare vp him, which Roberts hopes suppresse,

  Whose brothers comfort is in his distresse;

  This is the meane he vndertooke to try,

  With Roberts blood his safety first to buy.

  92

  With kind intreaty he doth first begin,

  Not fullie yet establisht as he would,

  By this aduantage to get further in,

  Till he had got a sure and faster hold,

  Baiting vnseene, deceit with sums of gold:

  By yearely tribute from his crowne to rise,

  To stop the mouth of passed iniuries.

  93

  This peace to which the mutenie must yield,

  And English tribute paid to Normandy,

  What Robert thinks his safegard’s Henries shield,

  And Roberts selfe, doth Robert iniurie,

  This tribute wrongs his true Nobilitie;

  And fro this source from whence their peace shold spring,

  Proceeds the cause of Roberts ruining.

  94

  These summs, the sinewes of Duke Roberts war,

  Like howerly tides, his flowing current sed,

  And to his fier the liuely fuell are,

  His will the streame, and this the Fountaine head,

  Hauing his humor fitlie cherished:

  Deceiptfull Henry, reobtaines at length,

  Vnto his Arme adding Duke Roberts strength.

  95

  This want his haughtie courage soone doth find,

  Cutting the quils of his high flying wings,

  That now he must commit him to the wind,

  Driuen which way the furious tempest flings;

  Powerlesse of that, which giueth power to Kings;

  Which desperate griefe, his mind enrageth so,

  As makes him past all reason in his woe.

  96

  Honor gaue entertainment to beliefe,

  Vnder which collour treason in was brought,

  Which slew his strength before he selt the griese,

  Pure innocence seldom suspecteth ought,

  No base affection maister of his thought,

  Nor maiestie inward deceit had learn’d,

  More then to shew, her outward eyes discern’d.

  97

  Miserie seem’d nothing, yet to him vnknowne,

  Not knowing euill, euill could not flie,

  Not sauouring sorrow, hauing tasted none,

  To find lurking deceit he look’d too hie,

  To honest minds, Fraud doth the soonest pry!

  Whose nature thus I chose to be the mould,

  Therein to worke what forme of hap I would.

  98

  His owne compassion, cause of his owne care,

  Vpon his thought, his constant promise stood,

  Vertue in him, most naturally rare,

  No vile base humor tainted his pure blood,

 

‹ Prev