Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

by Michael Drayton

At Cagant plagu’d the Power of Flemmings that she rais’d,

  Against the English force: which as a hand-sell seas’d,

  her very heart he marcht in warlike wise;

  Took Bergera, Langobeck, Mountdurant, and Mountguyse;

  Leau, Poudra, and Punach, Mount-Segre, Forsa, wonne;

  Mountpesans, and Beumount, the Ryall, Aiguillon,

  Rochmillon, Mauleon, Franch, and Angolisme surpriz’d;

  With Castles, Cities, Forts, nor Prouinces suffic’d.

  Then took the Earle of Leyle: to conduct whom there caine

  Nine Vicounts, Lords, and Earls, astonisht at his name.

  To Gascoyne then he goes (to plague her, being prest)

  And manfully himselfe of Mirabell possest;

  Surgeres, and Alnoy, Benoon, and Mortaine strooke:

  And with a fearefull siege, he Taleburg lastly took;

  With prosperous successe, in lesser time did winne

  Maximien, Lusingham, Mount-Sorrell, and Bouin;

  Sackt Poytiers: which did, then, that Countries treasure hold;

  That not a man of ours would touch what was not gold.

  With whom our Maney here deseruedly doth stand,

  Which first Inuentor was of that courageous band,

  Who clos’d their left eyes vp; as, neuer to be freed,

  Till there they had atchiev’d some high aduenturous deed.

  He first into the preasse at Cagant conflict flue;

  And from amidst a groue of gleaues, and halberds drew

  Great Darby beaten downe; t’amaze the men of warre,

  When he for England cri’d, S. George, and Lancaster:

  And as mine author tells (in his high courage, proud)

  Before his going forth, vnto his Mistresse vow’d,

  He would begin the war: and, to make good the same,

  Then setting foot in France, there first with hostile flame

  Forc’t Mortain, from her Towers, the neighbouring Townes to light;

  That suddainly they caught a Feuer with the fright.

  Thin Castle (neere the Towne of Cambray) ours he made;

  And when the Spanish powers came Britanne to inuade,

  Both of their aydes and spoyles, them vtterly bereft.

  This English Lyon, there, the Spaniards neuer left,

  Till from all aire of France, he made their Lewes fly.

  And Fame her selfe, to him, so amply did apply,

  That when the most vniust Calicians had forethought,

  Into that Towne (then ours) the French-men to haue brought,

  The King of England’s selfe, and his renowned sonne

  (By those perfidious French to see what would be done)

  Vnder his Guydon marcht, as priuate souldiers there.

  So had we still of ours, in France that famous were;

  Warwick, of England then High-constable that was,

  As other of that race, heere well I cannot passe;

  That braue and god-like brood of Beuchamps, which so long

  Them Earles of Warwick held; so hardy, great, and strong,

  That after of that name it to an Adage grew,

  If any man himselfe adventrous hapt to shew,

  Bold Beuchampe men him tearm’d, if none so bold as hee.

  With those our Beuchamps, may our Bourchers reckned bee.

  Of which, that valiant Lord, most famous in those dayes,

  That hazarded in France so many dangerous frayes:

  Whose blade in all the fights betwixt’the French and vs,

  Like to a Blazing-starre was euer ominous;

  A man, as if by Mars vpon Bellona got.

  Next him, stout Cobham comes, that with as prosprous lot

  Th’English men hath led; by whose auspicious hand,

  We often haue been known the Frenchmen to command.

  And Harcourt, though by birth an Alien; yet, ours wonne,

  By England after held her deere adopted sonne:

  Which oft vpon our part was brauely prou’d to doe,

  Who with the hard’st attempts Fame earnestly did wooe:

  To Paris-ward, that when the Amyens fled by stealth

  (Within her mightie walls to haue inclos’d their wealth)

  Before her bulwarkt gates the Burgesses hee tooke;

  Whilst the Parisians, thence that sadly stood to looke,

  And saw their faithfull friends so wofully bestead,

  Not once durst issue out to helpe them, for their head.

  And our Iohn Copland; heere courageously at home

  (Whilst euery where in France, those farre abroad doe roame)

  That at New-castle fight (the Battell of the Queene,

  Where most the English harts were to their Soueraigne seene)

  Tooke Dauid King of Scots, his prisoner in the fight.

  Nor could these warres imploy our onely men of might:

  But as the Queene by these did mightie things atchieue;

  So those, to Britaine sent the Countesse to relieue,

  As any yet of ours, two knights as much that dar’d,

  Stout Dangorn, and with him strong Hartwell honor fhar’d;

  The dreaded Charles de Bloyes, that at Rochdarren bet,

  And on the Royall seat, the Countesse Mountfort set.

  In each place where they came so fortunate were ours.

  Then, Audley, most renown’d amongst those valiant powers,

  That with the Prince of Wales at conquer’d Poyters fought;

  Such wonders that in Armes before both Armies wrought;

  The first that charg’d the French; and, all that dreadfull day,

  Through still renewing worlds of danger, made his way;

  The man that scorn’d to take a prisoner (through his pride)

  But by plaine downe-right death the title to decide.

  And after the retreat, that famous Battell done,

  Wherein, rich spacious France was by the English wonne,

  Fiue hundred marks in Fee, that noblest Prince bestow’d

  For his so braue attempts, through his high courage show’d.

  Which to his foure Esquires hee freely gaue, who there

  Vy’d valour with their Lord; and in despight of feare,

  Oft fetcht that day from death, where wounds gap’t wide as hell;

  And cryes, and parting groanes, whereas the Frenchmen fell,

  Euen made the Victors greeue, so horrible they were.

  Our Dabridgcourt the next shall be remembred heere,

  At Poyters who brake in vpon the Alman Horse

  Through his too forward speed: but, taken by their force,

  And after, by the turne of that so doubtfull fight,

  Beeing reskew’d by his friends in fearfull sight,

  Then like a Lyon rang’d about th’Enemies host:

  And where he might suppose the danger to be most,

  Like Lightning entred there, to his French-foes dismay,

  To gratifie his friends which reskew’d him that day.

  Then Chandos: whose great deeds found Fame so much to doo,

  That she was lastly forc’d, him for her ease to wooe;

  That Minion of drad Mars, which almost ouer-shone

  All those before him were, and for him none scarce known,

  At Cambray’s scaled wall his credit first that wonne;

  And by the high exployts in France by him were done,

  Had all so ouer-aw’d, that by his very name

  He could remoue a siege: and Citties where he came

  Would at his Summons yeeld. That man, the most belou’d,

  In all the wayes of warre so skilfull and approu’d,

  The Prince at Poyters chose his person to assist.

  Thisst out Herculean stem, this noble Martialist,

  In battell twixt braue Bloys and noble Mountfort, try’d

  At Array, then the right of Britaine to decyde,

  Rag’d like a furious storme beyond the power of man,

  Whe
re valiant Charles was slaine, and the sterne English wan

  The royall British rule to Mountforts nobler name.

  Hee tooke strong Tarryers in, and oft did tame.

  Gavaches he regayn’d, and vs Rochmador got.

  Where euer lay’d hee siege that he invested not?

  As this braue Warrior was, so no lesse deere to vs,

  The riuall in his fame, his onely amulus,

  Renown’d Sir Robert Knowles, that in his glories shar’d,

  His chiualry and oft in present perills dar’d;

  As Nature should with Time, at once by these consent

  To showe, that all their they idly had not spent.

  Hee Vermandoise or’e-ranne with skill and courage hie:

  Notoriously hee plagu’d revolting Picardy:

  That vp to Paris walls did all before him win,

  And dar’d her at her gates (the King that time within)

  A man that all his deeds did dedicate to fame.

  Then those stout Percyes, Iohn, and Thomas, men of name.

  The valiant Gourney, next, deseruedly we grace,

  And Howet, that with him assumes as high a place.

  Strong Trivet, all whose ends at great adventures shot:

  That conquer’d vs Mount Pin, and Castle Carcilot,

  As famous in the French, as in the Belgique warre;

  Who tooke the Lord Brimewe; and with the great Navarre,

  In Papaloon, attain’d an euerlasting praise.

  Courageous Carill next, then whom those glorious daies

  Produc’t not any spirit that through more dangers swam.

  That princely Thomas, next, the Earle of Buckingham,

  To Britany through France that our stout English brought,

  Which vnder his Commaund with such high fortune fought

  As put the world in feare Rome from her cynders rose,

  And of this Earth againe meant onely to dispose.

  Thrice valiant Hackwood then, out-shining all the rest,

  From London at the first a poore meane souldier prest

  (That time but very young) to those great warres in France,

  By his braue service there himselfe did so advance,

  That afterward, the heat of those great Battels done

  (In which he to his name immortall glory wonne)

  Leading sixe thousand Horse, let his braue Guydon flie.

  So, passing through East France, and entring Lombardie,

  Byth’ greatnes of his fame, attayn’d so high Commaund,

  That to his charge he got the white Italian Band.

  With Mountferato then in all his warres he went:

  Whose cleere report abroad by Fames shrill trumpet sent,

  Wrought, that with rich rewards him Milan after won,

  To ayde her, in her warres with Mantua then begon;

  By Barnaby, there made the Milanezes guide:

  His daughter, who, to him, faire Domina, affy’d.

  For Gregory then the twelfth, he dangerous Battels strooke,

  And with a noble siege revolted Pauia tooke.

  And there, as Fortune rose, or as she did decline,

  Now with the Pisan seru’d, then with the Florentine:

  The vse of th’English Bowes to Italy that brought;

  By which he, in those warres, seem’d wonders to haue wrought.

  Our Henry Hotspur next, for hie atchieuements meet,

  Who with the thundring noyse of his swift Coursers feet,

  Astund the earth, that day, that he in Holmdon’s strife

  Tooke Douglas, with the Earles of Anguish, and of Fyfe.

  And whilst those hardy Scots, vpon the firme earth bled,

  With his reuengefull sword swicht after them that fled.

  Then Caluerley, which kept vs Calice with such skill,

  His honor’d roome shall haue our Catalogue to fill:

  Who, when th’rebellious French, their liberty to gaine,

  From vs our ancient right vniustly did detaine

  (T’let Bullen vnderstand our iust conceiued ire)

  Her Suburbs, and her Ships, sent vp to heauen in fire;

  Estaples then tooke in that day shee held her Faire,

  Whose Marchandise he let his souldiers freely share;

  And got vs back Saint Marks, which loosely wee had lost.

  Amongst these famous men, of vs deseruing most,

  In these of great’st report, we gloriously prefer,

  For that his nauall fight, Iohn Duke of Excester;

  The puissant Fleet of Ieane (which France to her did call)

  Who mercilesly sunk, and slew her Admirall.

  And one, for single fight, amongst our Martiall men,

  Deserues remembrance as worthily agen;

  Our Clifford, that braue, young, and most courageous Squire:

  Who thoroughly provokt, and in a great desire

  Vnto the English name a high report to win,

  Slew Bockmell hand to hand at Castle Iocelin,

  Suppos’d the noblest spirit that France could then produce.

  Now, forward to thy taske proceed industrious Muse,

  To him, aboue them all, our Power that did advance;

  Iohn Duke of Bedford, stil’d the fire-brand to sad France:

  Who to remoue the Foe from sieged Harflew, sent,

  Affrighted them like death; and as at Sea he went,

  The huge French Nauiefier’d, when horrid Neptune ror’d,

  The whilst those mightie Ships out of their scuppers pour’d

  Their trayterous cluttred gore vpon his wrinkled face.

  Hee tooke strong Ivery in: and like his kingly race,

  There downe before Vernoyle the English Standard stuck:

  And hauing on his Helme his conquering Brothers luck,

  Alanzon on the field and doughty Douglasse layd,

  Which brought the Scottish power vnto the Dauphins ayde;

  And with his fatall sword, gaue France her fill of death,

  Till wearied with her wounds, shee gasping lay for breath.

  Then, as if powerfull Heauen our part did there abet,

  Still did one noble spirit, a nobler spirit beget.

  So, Salsbury arose; from whom, as from a sourse

  All valour seem’d to flowe, and to maintaine her force.

  From whom not all their Forts could hold our trecherous Foes.

  Pontmelance hee regayn’d, which ours before did lose.

  Against the envious French, at Cravant, then came on;

  As sometime at the siege of high-rear’d Ilion,

  The Gods descending, mixt with mortalls in the fight:

  And in his leading, show’d such valour and such might,

  As though his hand had held a more then earthly power;

  Tooke Stuart in the field, and Generall Vantadour,

  The French and Scottish force, that day which brauely led;

  Where few at all escap’t, and yet the wounded fled.

  Mount Aguilon, and Mouns, great Salsbury surpriz’d:

  What time (I thinke in hell) that instrument deuis’d,

  The first appear’d in France, as a prodigious birth

  To plague the wretched world, sent from the envious Earth;

  Whose very roring seem’d the mighty Round to shake,

  As though of all againe it would a Chaos make.

  This famous Generall then got Gwerland to our vse,

  And Malicorne made ours, with Loupland, and La Suise,

  Saint Bernards Fort, S. Kales, S. Susan, Mayon, Lyle,

  The Hermitage, Mountseure, Baugency, and Yanvile.

  Then he (in all her shapes that dreadfull Warre had seene,

  And that with Danger oft so conuersant had beene,

  As for her threats at last he seem’d not once to care,

  And Fortune to her face adventurously durst dare)

  The Earle of Suffolke, Poole, the Marshall that great day

  At Agincourt, where France before
vs prostrate lay

  (Our Battells euery where that Hector-like supply’d,

  And marcht o’re murthered pyles of Frenchmen as they dy’d)

  Invested Auhemerle, rich making ours,

  And at the Bishops Parke or’ethrew the Dolphins powers.

  Through whose long time in warre, his credit so increast,

  That hee supply’d the roume of Salsbury deceast.

  In this our warlike rank, the two stout Astons then,

  Sir Richard, and Sir Iohn, so truly valiant men,

  That Ages yet to come shall hardly ouer-top am,

  Vmfreuill, Peachy, , Mountgomery, Felton, Popham.

  All men of great Commaund, and highly that deseru’d:

  Courageous Ramston next, so faithfully that seru’d

  At Paris, and S. Iames de Beneon, where we gaue

  The French those deadly foyles, that Ages since depraue

  The credit of those times, with these so wondrous things,

  The memory of which, great Warwick forward brings.

  Who (as though in his blood he conquest did inherit,

  Or in the very name there were secret spirit)

  Being chosen for these warres in our great Regents place

  (A deadly Foe to France, like his braue Roman race)

  The Castilets of Loyre, of Maiet, and of Lund,

  Mountdublian, and the strong Pountorson beat to ground.

  Then hee, aboue them all, himselfe that sought to raise,

  Vpon some Mountaine top, like a Piramides;

  Our Talbot, to the French so terrible in warre,

  That with his very name their Babes they vs’d to scarre,

  Took-in the strong Lavall, all Main and ouer-ran,

  As the betray’d Mons he from the Marshall wan,

  And from the treacherous Foe our valiant Suffolke free’d.

  His sharpe and dreadfull sword made France so oft to bleed,

  Till fainting with her wounds, she on her wrack did fall;

  Tooke Ioing, where he hung her Traytors on the wall;

  And with as faire successe wan Beumont vpon Oyse,

  The newe Towne in Esmoy, and Crispin in Valoyes:

  Creile, with Saint Maxines bridge; and at Auranches ayde,

  Before whose batter’d walls the Foe was strongly lay’d,

  Marcht in, as of the siege at all he had not knowne;

  And happily relieu’d the hardly-gotten Roan:

  Who at the very hint came with auspicious feet,

  Whereas the trayt’rous French he miserably beet.

  And hauing ouer-spred all Picardy with warre,

  Proud Burgaine to the Field hee lastly sent to darre,

  Which with his English friends so oft his fayth had broake:

  Whose Countries he made mourne in clowds of smouldring smoak;