Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

by Michael Drayton

  Scroope, Greene, and Bushie, die his fault in graine,

  Henry going towards the Castle of Flint, where King Richard was, caused Scroope, Greene, & Bushie, to be executed at Bristow, as vile persons, which had seduced this king to this lasciuious & wicked life.

  Damn’d be the oath he made at Doncaster.

  After Henries exile, at his returne into England, he tooke his oath at Doncaster vpon the Sacrament, not to claime the crown, or kingdom of England, but onely the Dukedome of Lancaster, his own proper right, and the right of his wife.

  And mourne for Henry Hotspur, her deere sonne,

  As I for my &c.

  This was the braue couragious Henry Hotspur, that obtained so many victories against the Scots, which after falling out right with the curse of Queene Isabell, was slaine by Henry, at the battaile at Shrewsburie.

  Richard the second to Queene Isabell.

  WHAT may my Queene, but hope for from that hand,

  Vnfit to write; vnskilful to command?

  A kingdoms greatnes, hardly can he sway,

  That wholesome counsaile neuer did obey;

  Ill this rude hand did guide a Scepter then,

  Worse now (I feare me) gouerneth a pen,

  How shall I call my selfe, or by what name,

  To make thee know from whence these letters came?

  Not from thy husband, for my hatefull life,

  Hath made thee widdow, being yet a wife;

  Nor from a King, that title I haue lost,

  Now of that name proud Bulling brooke may boast:

  what I haue beene, doth but this comfort bring,

  That no woe is, to say, I was a King.

  This lawlesse life, which first p•ocur’d my hate,

  This tong, which then denounc’d my regall state,

  This abiect mind, that did consent vnto it,

  This hand, that was the instrument to doe it;

  All these be witnes, that I doe denie

  All passed hopes, all former soueraigntie.

  Didst thou for my sake leaue thy fathers Court,

  Thy famous Country, and thy virgine port,

  And vndertook’st to trauaile dangerous waves,

  Driuen by aukward winds, and boyst’rous seas;

  And left’s great Burbon for thy loue to me,

  who su’d in marriage to be linck’d to thee;

  Offring for dower the Countries neighbouring nie,

  Of fruitfull Almaine, and rich Burgundie;

  Didst thou all this, that England should receaue thee,

  To miserable banishment to leaue thee?

  And in my downfall, and my fortunes wracke,

  Forsaken thus, to Fraunce to send thee backe.

  When quiet sleepe (the heauie harts reliefe)

  Hath rested sorrow, somwhat lesned griefe,

  My passed greatnes vnto minde I call,

  And thinke this while I dreamed of my fall;

  with this conceite, my sorrowes I beguile,

  That my fayre Queene is but with-drawne awhile,

  And my attendants in some chamber by,

  As in the height of my prosperitie.

  Calling aloud, and asking who is there,

  The Eccho answering, tells me Woe is there,

  And when mine armes would gladly thee enfold,

  I clip the pillow, and the place is cold,

  which when my waking eyes precisely view,

  Tis a true token, that it is too true.

  As many minutes as in the houres there be,

  So many houres each minute seemes to me;

  Each houre a day, morne, noone-tide, and a set,

  Each day a yeare, with miseries complet.

  A winter, spring-time, sommer, and a fall,

  All seasons varying, but vnseasoned all;

  In endlesse woe, my thred of life thus weares,

  By minutes, houres, dayes, monthes, and ling’ring yeares,

  They praise the Sommer, that enioy the South,

  Pomfret is closed in the Norths cold mouth:

  There pleasant Sommer dwelleth all the yeere,

  Frost-starued-winter doth inhabite heere;

  A place wherein dispaire may fitly dwell,

  Sorrow best suting with a clowdie Cell:

  When Herford had his iudgement of exile,

  Saw I the peoples murmuring the while;

  Th’vncertaine Commons touch’d with inward care,

  As though his sorrowes mutually they bare:

  Fond women, and scarse speaking children mourne,

  Bewaile his parting, wishing his returne;

  Then being forc’d t’abridge his banish’d yeeres,

  when they bedew’d his footsteps with their teares:

  Yet by example could not learne to know

  To what his greatnes by this loue might grow,

  whilst Henry boasts of our atthieuements done,

  Bearing the trophies our great fathers wone;

  And all the storie of our famous warre

  Now grace the Annalls of great Lancaster.

  Seuen goodly siens in their spring did flourish,

  which one selfe root brought forth, one stocke did nourish:

  Edward the top-braunch of that golden tree,

  Nature in him her vtmost power did see,

  who from the bud still blossomed so faire,

  As all might iudge what fruit it meant to beare:

  But I his graft of eu’ry weede ore-growne,

  And from the kind, as refuse forth am throwne,

  From our braue Grandsire, both in one degree,

  Yet after Edward, Iohn the young’st of three.

  Might princely Wales beget an Impe so base,

  (That to Gaunts issue should giue soueraigne place)

  That leading Kings from Fraunce returned home,

  As those great Caesars brought their spoyles to Rome,

  whose name obtayned by his fatall hand,

  was euer fearefull to that conquered land;

  His fame increasing, purchasd in those warres,

  Can scarcely now be bounded with the starres.

  With him is valour quite to heauen fled,

  (Or else in me is it extinguished,)

  who for his vertue and his conquests sake

  Posteritie a demie God shall make,

  And iudge this •ile and abiect spirit of mine

  Could not proceed from temper so diuine:

  What earthly humor, or what vulgar eye

  Can looke so low as on our miserie?

  When Bulling brook is mounted to our throne,

  And makes that his, which we but call’d our owne:

  Into our Counsels he himselfe intrudes,

  And who but Henry with the multitudes.

  His power disgrad’s, his dreadfull frowne disgraceth,

  He throwes them downe, whom our aduancement placeth;

  As my disable, and vnworthie hand,

  Neuer had power belonging to command.

  He treads our sacred tables in the dust,

  And proues our acts of Parlament vniust;

  As thoug• he hated that it should be said,

  That such a law by Richard once was made.

  Whilst I depresd before his greatnes lie,

  Vnder the waight of hate and infamie.

  My back a foot-stoole Bulling brook to raise,

  My loosenes mock’d, and hatefull by his praise:

  Out-liu’d mine honour, buried my estate,

  And nothing left me, but the peoples hate.

  (Sweet Queene) ile take all counsell thou canst giue,

  So that thou bid’st me neither hope nor liue;

  Succour that comes, when ill hath done his worst,

  But sharpens greefe, to make vs more accurst.

  Comfort is now vnpleasing to mine eare,

  Past cure, past care, my bed become my Beere.

  Since now misfortune humbleth vs so long,

  Till heauen be growne vnmindfull of our
wrong,

  Yet they forbid my wrongs shall euer die,

  But still remembred to posteritie;

  And let the crowne be fatall that he weares,

  And euer wet with wofull mothers teares.

  Thy curse on Percie angry heauens preuent,

  who haue not one cuise left, on him vnspent,

  To scourge the world, now horrowing of my store,

  As rich of woe, as I a King am poore.

  Then cease (deere Queene) my sorrowes to bewaile,

  My wounds too great for pittie now to heale,

  Age stealeth on, whilst thou complainest thus,

  My greefes be mortall, and infectious;

  Yet better fortunes, thy fayre youth may trie,

  That follow thee, which still from me doth flie.

  Notes of the Chronicle Historie.

  This tongue which first denounc’d my regall flate.

  RICHARD the second, at the resignation of the Crowne to the Duke of Herford, in the Tower of London, deliuering the lame with his owne hand, there confessed his disabilitie to gouerne, vtterly denouncing all kingly dignitie.

  And left’st great Burbon for thy loue to me,

  Before the Princesse Isabell was married to the King, Lewes Duke of Burbon sued to haue had her in mariage, which was thought hee had obtained, if this motion had not fallen out in the meane time; This Duke of Burbon sued againe to haue receiued her at her comming into Fraunce, after the imprisonment of King Richard, but King Charles her Father then crost him as before, and gaue her to Charles, sonne to the Duke of Orleance.

  When Herford had his iudgement of exile,

  When the combate should haue beene at Couentrie, betwixt Hen•ie Duke of Herford, and Thomas Duke of Norfolke; where Her•ord was adiudged to banishment for tenne yeares, the Commons exceeding lamented, so greatly was he euer fauoured of the people.

  Then being forc’d t’abridge his banish’d yeeres.

  When the Duke came to take his leaue of the King, being then at Eltham, the King to please the Commons, rather then for any lou• he beare to Herford, repleaded foure yeeres of his banishment.

  Whilst Henry boasts of our atchieuements done,

  Henry the eldest Sonne to Iohn Duke of Lancaster, at the first Earle of Darby, then created Duke of Herford, after the death of the Duke Iohn his Father, was Duke of Lancaster and Hereford, Earle of Darby, Leicester, and Lincolne; and after he had obtained the Crowne, was called by the name of Bullingbrooke, which is a towne in Lincolneshire, as vsually all the Kings of England bare the name of the places where they were borne.

  Seauen goodly syens in their spring did flourish,

  Edward the third had seuen Sonnes, Edward Prince of Wales, after called the blacke Prince, William of Hatfield the second, Lionell Duke of Clarence the third, Iohn of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster the fourth, Edmond of Langley Duke of Yorke the Fifth, Thomas of Woodstocke Duke of Gloster the sixth, William of Windsore the seuenth.

  Edward the top-branch of that golden tree,

  Truly boasting himselfe to bee the eldest Sonne of Edward the blacke Prince.

  Yet after Edward, Iohn the young’st of three.

  As disabling Henry Bullingbrooke, being but the sonne of the fourth brother: William and Lionell beeing both before Iohn of Gaunt.

  That leading Kings from Fraunce, returned home

  Edward the black Prince, taking Iohn King of Fraunce prisoner, at the battell of Poict••s, brought him into England, where at the Sauoy he died.

  Whose name atchiued by his fatall hand,

  Called the black Prince, not so much of his complexion, as of the famous battell hee fought, as is shewed before: in the Glosse vppon the Epistle of Edward to the Countesse of Salisburie.

  And proues our acts of Parlement vniust.

  In the next Parlement, after Richards resignation of the Crowne, Henry caused to be annihilated all the lawes made in the Parlament, called the wicked Parlement, helde in the twenty yeere of king Richards raigne.

  FINIS.

  Queene Katherine to Owen Tudor.

  THE ARGUMENT.

  After the death of that victorious Henry the fift, Queene Katherine, the dowager of England and Fraunce, daughter to Charles the French King, holding her estate with Henrie her sonne, (then the sixt of that name,) falleth in loue with Owen Tuder, a Welshman, a braue and gallant Gentleman of the Wardrope to the young King her son; yet greatlie fearing if her loue shoulde bee discouered, the Nobilitie would crosse her purposed marriage; or fearing, that if her faire & princely promises should not assure his good successe, this high and great attempt, might (perhaps) daunt the forwardnesse of his modest and shamefast youth; wherefore to breake the Ice to her intent, shee writeth vnto him this Epistle following.

  IVDGE not a Princesse worth impeach’d heereby

  That loue thus tryumphs ouer maiestie;

  Nor thinke lesse vertue in this royall hand,

  which now intreats, that wonted to commaund,

  For in this sort, though humbly now it wooe,

  The day hath beene, thou would’st haue kneeld vnto.

  Nor thinke that this submission of my state,

  Proceedes from frailty, (rather iudge it fate)

  Alcides nere more fit for wars sterne shock,

  Then when for loue sate spinning at the rock,

  Neuer lesse clowdes did Phoebus glory dim,

  Then in a clownes shape when he couered him;

  •oues great commaund was neuer more obey’d,

  Then when a Satyres anticke parts he plai’d.

  He was thy King that sued for loue to mee,

  Shee is thy Queene that sues for loue to thee.

  When Henry was, what’s Tudors now, was his;

  whilst vet thou art, what’s Henries, Tudors is;

  My loue to Owen, him my Henry giueth,

  My loue to Henry, in my Owen liueth;

  Henry woo’d me, whilst wars did yet increase,

  I wooe my Tudor, in sweet calmes of peace,

  To force affection, he did conquest proue,

  I fight with gentle arguments of loue.

  Incampt at Melans, In warres hote alarmes,

  First saw I Henry, clad in princely Armes.

  At pleasant Windsore, first these eyes of mine,

  My Tudor iudg’d for wit and shape diuine.

  Henry abroade, with puissance and with force,

  Tudor at home, with courtship and discourse,

  He then, thou now, I hardly can iudge whether

  Did like me best, Plantaginet or Tether.

  A march, a measure, battell, or a daunce,

  A courtly rapier, or a conquering Launce.

  His princely bed hath strengthned my renowne,

  And on my temples set a double crowne;

  which glorious wreath, (as Henries lawfull heire)

  Henry the sixt vpon his brow doth beare.

  At Troy in Champaine he did first enioy

  My bridal-rites, to England brought from Troy,

  In England now, that honour thou shalt haue,

  which once in Champaine famous Henry gaue•

  I seeke not wealth, three kingdoms in my power,

  If these suffise not, where shall be my dower?

  Sad discontent may euer follow her,

  which doth base pelfe before true loue prefer;

  If •itles still could our affections tie,

  what is so great but maiestie might buy?

  As I seeke thee, so Kings doe me desire,

  To what they would, thou easily mai’st aspire.

  That sacred fire, once warm’d my hart before,

  The fuell fit, the flame is now the more,

  And meanes to quench it, I in vaine doe proue,

  we may hide treasure, but not hide our loue,

  And since it is thy fortune (thus) to gaine it,

  It were too late, nor will I now restraine it.

  Nor these great titles vainely will I bring,

  wife, daughter, mot
her, sister to a King,

  Of grandsire, father, husband, sonne, & brother,

  More thou alone to me, then all the other.

  Nor feare my Tudor that this loue of mine,

  Should wrong the Gaunt-borne great Lancastrian lin•,

  Nor stir the English blood, the Sunne and Moone,

  T’repine at Loraine, Burbon, Alansoon;

  Nor doe I thinke there is such different ods,

  They should alone be numbred with the Gods.

  Of Cadmus earthly issue reckoning vs,

  And they from •oue, Mars, Neptune, Eolus,

  Of great Latonas of-spring onely they,

  And we the brats of wofull Niobe,

  Our famous Grandsires (as theyr owne) bestrid,

  That horse of fame, that God-begotten steed,

  whose bounding hoofe plow’d that Boetian spring,

  where those sweet maides of memory doe sing,

  Not onely Henries Queene, but boast as well,

  To be the childe of Charles and Isabell.

  Nor doe I know from whence their griefe should grow,

  They by this match should be disparag’d so,

  when Iohn and Longshanks issue both affied,

  And to the Kings of Wales in wedlocke tyed,

  Showing the greatnes of your blood thereby,

  Your race, and royall consanguinitie.

  And Wales as well as haughty England boasts,

  Of Camilot, and all her Penticosts;

  A nephewes roome in great Pondragons race,

  At Arthurs table held a princely place.

  If by the often conquest of your land

  They boast the spoyles of theyr victorious hand,

  If these our auncient Chronicles be true,

  They altogether are not free from you.

  When bloody Rufus fought your vtter sack,

  Twice entring Wales, yet twice was beaten back,

  When famous Cambria wash’d her in the flood,

  Made by th’effusion of the English blood;

  And oft return’d with glorious victorie,

  From Worster, Herford, Chester, Shrowesbury,

  whose power in euery conquest so preuailes,

  As once expuls’d the English out of Wales.

  Although my beautie made my Countries peace,

  And at my bridall former broyles did cease,

  Yet more then power, had not his person beene,

  I had not come to England as a Queene.

  Nor tooke I Henry to supply my want,

  Because in Fraunce that time my choise was scant;

  when we had robd all Christendome of men,