That grow in shady Proserpines darke walkes;
Or those blacke weedes on Lethe bankes below,
Or Lunary that doth on Latmus flow;
Oft did I feare this moist and foggie clime,
Or that the earth, waxt barraine now with time,
Should not haue hearbes to help me in this case,
Such as doe thriue on Indias parched face.
That morrow, when the blessed sunne did rise,
And shut the lids of all heauens lesser eyes,
Forth from my pallace by a secret stayre
I steale to Thames, as though to take the ayre;
And aske the gentle flood as it doth glide,
Or thou didst passe or perrish by the tide?
If thou didst perrish, I desire the streame
To lay thee softly on her siluer teame,
And bring thee to me to the quiet shore,
That with her teares, thou might’st haue some teares more.
When suddainly doth rise a rougher gale,
with that (me thinks) the troubled waues looke pale,
And sighing with that little gust that blowes,
with this remembrance seeme to knit theyr browes.
Euen as this suddaine passion doth affright me,
The cheerefull sunne breakes from a clowde to light mee;
Then doth the bottome euident appeare,
As it would shew me, that thou wast not there,
When as the water flowing where I stand,
Doth seeme to tell me, thou art safe on land.
Did Bulloyne once a festiuall prepare,
For England, Almaine, Cicile, and Nauarre?
when Fraunce enuied those buildings (onely blest)
Grac’d with the Orgies of my bridall feast,
That English Edward should refuse my bed
For that incestuous shameles Ganimed?
And in my place, vpon his regall throne,
To set that girle-boy, wanton Gaueston.
Betwixt the feature of my face and his,
My glasse assures me no such difference is,
That a foule witches bastard should thereby
Be thought more worthy of his loue then I.
What doth auaile vs to be Princes heyres,
when we can boast c•r birth is onely theyrs?
when base dissembling flatterers shall deceiue vs,
Of all our famous Auncestors did leaue vs;
And of our princely iewels and our dowers,
wee but enioy the least of what it ours;
when Minions heads must weare our Monarchs crownes,
To raise vp dunghils with our famous townes;
when beggers-brats are wrapt in rich perfumes,
Their buzzard wings impt with our Eagles plumes;
And match’d with the braue issue of our blood,
Alie the kingdome to theyr crauand brood.
Did Longshanks purchase with his conquering hand,
Albania, Gascoyne, Cambria, Ireland?
That young Caernaruan (his vnhappy sonne)
Should giue away all that his Father wonne?
To backe a stranger, proudly bearing downe
The braue alies and branches of the crowne?
And did great Edward, on his death-bed giue
This charge to them which afterwards should liue,
That that proude Gascoyne, banished the Land,
No more should tread vpon the English sand?
And haue these great Lords in the quarrell stood,
And seald his last will with theyr deerest blood,
That after all this fearefull massaker,
The fall of Beauchamp, Lasy, Lancaster•
Another faithlesse fauorite should arise
To cloude the sunne of our Nobilities?
And gloried I in Gauestons great fall,
That now a Spenser should succeede in all?
And that his ashes should another breed,
which in his place and empire should succeede;
That wanting one a kingdoms wéalth to spend,
Of what that left, thys now shall make an end;
To wast all that our Father won before,
Nor leaue our sonne a sword to conquer more.
Thus but in vaine we fondly doe resist,
where power can doe (euen) all things as it list,
And with vniust men to debate of lawes,
Is to giue power to hurt a rightfull cause;
whilst parlements must still redresse theyr wrongs,
And we must starue for what to vs belongs;
Our wealth but fuell to theyr fond excesse,
And we must fast to feast theyr wantonnesse.
Think’st thou our wrongs then insufficient are
To moue our brother to religious war?
And if they were, yet Edward doth detaine
Homage for Pontiu, Guyne, and Aquytaine;
And if not that, yet hath he broke the truce,
Thus all accur, to put backe all excuse.
The sisters wrong, ioynd with the brothers right,
Me thinks might vrge him in this cause to fight.
Be all those people sencelesse of our harmes
which for our country ought haue manag’d armes?
Is the braue Normans courage now forgot?
Or the bold Brittaines lost the vse of shot?
The big-bon’d Almaines, and stout Brabanders,
Theyr warlike Pikes, and sharp-edg’d Semiters?
Or doe the Pickards let theyr Crosbowes lie,
Once like the Centaurs of old Thessalie?
Or if a valiant Leader be theyr Lacke,
where thou art present, who should driue them backe?
I doe coniure thee by what is most deere,
By that great name of famous Mortimer,
By auncient Wigmors honourable Crest,
The Tombes where all thy famous Grandsires rest:
Or if then these, what more may thee approue,
Euen by those vowes of thy vnfained loue,
That thy great hopes may moue the Christian King,
By forraine Armes some comfort yet to bring,
To curbe the power of traytors that rebell
Against the right of princely Isabell.
Vaine witlesse woman, why should I desire
To adde more heate to thy immortall fire?
To vrge thee by the violence of hate,
To shake the pillers of thine owne estate,
when whatsoeuer we intend to doe,
To our misfortune euer sorts vnto;
And nothing els remaines for vs beside,
But teares and coffins (onely) to prouide,
When still so long as Burrough beares that name
Time shall not blot out our deserued shame;
And whilst cleere Trent her wonted course shall keepe,
For our sad fall, her christall drops shall weepe.
All see our ruine on our backs is throwne,
And to our selues our sorrowes are our owne.
And Torlton now whose counsell should direct
The first of all is slaundred with suspect;
For dangerous things dissembled sildome are
which many eyes attend with busie care.
What should I say? my griefes doe still renew,
And but begin when I should bid adiew,
Few be my words, but manifold my woe,
And still I stay, the more I striue to goe.
As accents issue forth, griefes enter in,
And where I end, mee thinks I but begin;
Till then fayre time some greater good affoords,
Take my loues payment in these ayrie words.
Notes of the Chronicle Historie.
O how I feard that sleepie drinke I sent,
Might yet want power to further thine intent.
Mortimer beeing in the Tower, and ordayning a feast in honour of his byrth-day, as hee pretended, and inuiting there-vnto sir
Stephen Segraue, Constable of the Tower, with the •est of the officers belonging to the same, he gaue them a sleepie drinke, prouided him by the Queene, by which meanes he got libertie for his escape.
I steale to Thames, as though to take the ayre,
And aske the gentle streame as it doth glide,
Mortimer, being got out of the Tower, swam the riuer of Thames into Kent, whereof she hauing intelligence, doubteth of his strength to escape, by reason of his long imprisonment, being almost the space of three yeeres.
Did Bulloyne once a festiuall prepare,
For England, Almaine, Cicile and Naeuarre?
Edward Carnaruan, the first Prince of Wales of the English blood, married Isabell, daughter of Phillip the faire at Bulloyne, in the presence of the Kings of Almaine, Nauarre, and Cicile, with the chiefe Nobilitie of Fraunce, and England, which marriage was there solemnized with exceeding pompe and magnificence.
And in my place, vpon his regall throne,
To set that girle-boy, wanton Gaueston.
Noting the effeminacie & luxurious wantonnesse of Gaueston, the Kings Minion; his behauiour and attire euer so womanlike, to please the eye of his lasciuious Prince.
That a foule Witches bastard should thereby
It was vrged by the Queene and the Nobilitie, in the disgrace of Piers Gauestone, that his mother was conuicted of witchcraft, & burned for the same, and that Piers had bewitched the King.
Albania, Gascoyne, Cambria, Ireland.
Albania, Scotland so called of Albanact, the second sonne of Brutus, and Cambria, Wales, so called of Camber the third son, the foure Realmes & countries, brought in subiection by Edward Longshankes.
When of our princely Iewels and our dowers,
We but enioy the least of what is ours.
A complaint of the prodigalitie of King Edward, giuing vnto Gaueston the iewels & treasure which was left him by the auncient Kings of England; and enriching him with the goodly Manor of Wallingford, assigned as parcel of the dower, to the queens of this famous Ile.
And ioyn’d with the braue issue of our blood,
Alie our kingdome to their crauand brood.
Edward the second, gaue to Piers Gaueston in mariage, the daughter of Gilbert Clare, Earle of Glocester, begot of the Kings sister, Ione of Acres, maried to the said Earle of Glocester.
Should giue away all that his Father won
To backe a stranger.
King Edward offered his right in Fraunce to Charles his brother in law, and his right in Scotland to Robert Bruse, to be ayded against the Barrons, in the quarrell of Piers Gaueston.
And did great Edward on his death-bed giue
Edward Longshanks, on his death-bed at Carlile, commanded yong Edward his sonne, on his blessing, not to call backe Gaueston, which (for the misguiding of the Princes youth) was before banished by the whole counsell of the Land.
That after all this fearefull massaker,
The fall of Beuchamp, Lasy, Lancaster.
Thomas, Earle of Lancaster, Guy, Earle of Warwick, & Henry Ea•le of Lincolne, who had taken their oaths before the deceased King at his death, to withstand his sonne Edward if hee should call Gauestone from exile, being a thing which he much feared: now seeing Edward to violate his Fathers co¯maundement, rise in Armes against the king, which was the cause of the ciuill war, & the ruine of so many Princes.
And gloried I in Gauestons great fall
That now a Spenser should succeed in all.
The two Hugh Spensers, the Father & the sonne, after the death of Gaueston, became the great fauourites of the King, the sonne beeing created by him lord Chamberlaine, & the father Earle of Winchester.
And if they were, yet Edward doth detaine
Homaage for Pontiu, Guyne, and Aquitaine.
Edward Longshanks, did homage for those Citties and Territories to the French King, which Edward the second neglecting moued the French King, by the subornation of Mortimer, to cease those Countries into his hands.
By auncient Wigmors honourable Crest,
Wigmore in the marches of Wales, was the auncient house of the Mortimers, that noble and couragious familie.
That still so long as Borrough beares that name.
The Queene remembreth the great ouerthrowe giuen to the Barrons, by Andrew Herckley, Earle of Carlill, at Borrough bridge, after the battaile at Burton.
And Torlton now, whose counsels should direct.
This was Adam Torlton, Bishop of Herford, that great Polititian, who so highly fauoured the faction of the Queene and Mortimer, whose euill counsell afterward wrought the destruction of the King.
Mortimer to Queene Isabell.
AS thy salutes my sorrowes doe adiourne,
So backe to thee their interest I returne;
Though not in so great bountie (I confesse)
As thy heroicke princely lines expresse;
For how should comfort issue from the breath
Of one condemn’d, and long lodg’d vp in death?
From murthers rage thou didst me once repriue,
Now in exile, my hopes thou doost reuiue;
Twice all was taken, twice thou all didst giue,
And thus twice dead, thou mak’st me twice to liue.
This double life of mine, your onely due,
You gaue to me; I giue it back to you;
Nere my escape had, I aduentur’d thus,
As did the skie-attempting Daedalus;
And yet to giue more safety to my flight,
Haue made a night of day, a day of night.
Nor had I backt the proud aspiring wall,
which held without, my hopes, within, my fall,
Leauing the cords to tell where I had gone,
For gazing eyes with feare to looke vpon,
But that thy beauty (by a power diuine)
Breath’d a new life into this spirit of mine.
Drawne by the sunne of thy celestiall eyes.
with fiery wings made passage through the skies,
The heauens did seeme the charge of me to take,
And sea and land befriend me for thy sake;
Thames stopt her tide, to make me way to go,
As thou hadst charg’d her that it should be so,
The hollow murmuring winds their due time kept,
As they had rock’d the world, whilst all things slept;
One billow bore me, and another draue me,
This stroue to helpe me, and that stroue to saue me;
The brisling Reedes, mou’d with the ayre did chide me,
As they would tell me, that they meant to hide me,
The pale-fac’d night beheld thy heauie cheere,
And would not let one little starre appeare,
But ouer all, her smokie mantle hurl’d,
And in thick vapours muffled vp the world;
And the pure ayre became so clame and still
As it had beene obedient to my will;
And euery thing disposd vnto my rest,
As when on Seas the Alc•on builds her nest.
When those rough waues which late with fury rusht,
Slide smoothly on, and sodainly are husht;
Nor Neptune lets his surges our so long
As Nature is in bringing forth her yong;
Nor let the Spensers glory in my chance
That I should liue an exile heere in France:
That I from England banished should be,
But England rather banished from me:
More were her want, France our great blood should beare,
Then Englands losse should be to Mortimer.
My Grandsire was the first since Arthurs raigne,
That the Round-table rectifi’d againe;
To whose great Court at Kenelworth did come
The peerelesse knighthood of all Christendome:
whose Princely order, honoured England more
Then all the conquests she atchiu’d before.
Neuer durst Scot set foote on English ground,
/> Nor on his backe did English beare a wound,
whilst Wigmore flourisht in our Princely hopes,
And whilst our Ensigne march’d with Edwards troupes;
whilst famous Longshanks bones (in fortunes scorne)
As sacred reliques to the field were borne;
Nor euer did the valiant English doubt,
whilst our braue battailes guarded them about.
Nor did our wi•es and wofull mothers mourne
The English blood that stained Banocksburne,
whilst with his Minions sporting in his Tent,
whole dayes and nights in banquetting were spent:
Vntill the Scots (which vnder safegard stood)
Made lauish hauocke of the English blood?
And battered helmes lay scattered on the shore,
where they in conquest had beene borne before.
A thousand Kingdoms will we seeke from far,
As many Nations wast with ciuill war,
where the disheuel’d gastly Sea-nimph sings,
Or well-rigd ships shall stretch their swelling wings,
And drag their ankors through the sandy foame,
About the world in euery Clime to roame,
And those vnchristned Countries call our owne,
where scarce the name of England hath beene knowne;
And in the dead-sea sinke our houses fame,
From whose sterne waues we first deriu’d our Name,
Before foule black-mouth’d infamie shall sing
That Mortimer ere stoop’d vnto a King.
And we will turne sterne-visag’d furie backe,
To seeke his spoile, who sought our vtter sacke:
And come to beard him in our natiue Ile,
Ere he martch forth to follow our exile.
And after all these boistrous stormie shocks,
Yet will we grapple with the chaulkie Rocks.
Nor will we come like Pyrats, or like theeues,
From mountaine Forrests, or sea-bordering Cleeues,
But fright the ayre with terror (when we come)
Of the sterne trumpet, and the bellowing drum:
And in the field aduance our plumy Crest,
And martch vpon faire Englands flowrie brest;
And Thames which once we for our life did swim,
Shaking our dewy tresses on her brim,
Shall beare my Nauie; vaunting in her pride,
Falling from Tanet with the powerfull tide;
which fertile Essex, and faire Kent shall see,
Spreading her flags along the pleasant lee,
when on her stemming poope she proudly beares,
Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works Page 45