The Legend of Robert Duke of Normandie.

WHat time soft night had silently begunne,
To steale by minutes on the long-liu'd daies,
The furious dogge pursuing of the sunne,
Whose noysome breath addes feruor to his raies,
That to the earth sends many a sad disease:
Which then inflam'd with his intemprate fires,
Her selfe in light habiliments attires.

When the rathe morning newly but awake,
Scarse with fresh beautie burnished her browes,
Her selfe beholding in the generall Lake,
(To which she paies her neuer-ceasing vowes,)
With the new day me willingly to rowze;
Downe to faire Thames I softly tooke my way,
Where the milde windes continually do play.

Striuing to fancie his chaste breast to moue,
Whereas all pleasures plentifully flowe,
When him along the wanton tide doth …houe,
And to keepe backe they easily doe blow,
Still meete him comming, thinking him too slowe:
He forcing waues to checke their hote imbrace,
They fanning breath vpon his cristall face.

Still forward sallying from his bounteous …ource,
Along the shores lasciuio…sly doth straine,
And often times retreating in his course,
As to his fountaine he would backe againe,
Or turnde to looke vpon his siluer …;
With coy regards the goodly soile he greetes,
Till with faire Medway happily he meetes.

Steering my compasse by the wandring streame,
whose flight might teach me …es ne'r-turning howrs,
Delighted thus as in a pretty dreame,
Where pleasure wholly had possest my powres;
Yet looking backe on Londons c…g Towres,
So Troy, thought I, her stately head did reare,
Whose crazed ribs the furrowing plow doth eire.

Wearie at length, a willow-tree I found,
Which on the banke of this great torrent stood,
Whose roote, with rich grasse greatly did abound,
(Forc'd by the moisture of the surging flood)
Ordain'd it seemde to sport her Nimphish brood;
Whose curled top denied the heauens great eye,
To view the stocke he was maintained by.

The Larke that learnes obseruance to the Sunne,
Quauers her cleere notes in the quiet ayre,
That on the riuers murmuring base doth runne,
And the pl…sde heauens, their fairest liuery ware,
The place such pleasure gently doth prepare;
The flowers my scent, the flood my taste to steepe,
Each sence thus s…ted, …ed me asleepe.

When in a dreame it seemed vnto me,
Triumphall musicke from the flood arose,
As when the Soueraigne we embargde do see,
And by faire London for his pleasure rowes,
whose tender welcome the glad Cittie showes;
The people swarming thicke vpon the shores,
And the curlde water ouer-spread with oa…es.

A troupe of Nimphs came suddainely on land,
In the full end of this triumphall sound,
And me incompast, taking hand in hand,
Casting themselues about me in a round,
And so downe set them on the easie ground;
Their sober eyes cast with a modest grace,
Vpon my swarth and melancholy face.

Next, twixt two Ladies came a goodly Knight,
As newly brought from some distressefull place,
To me who seemed some right worthy wight,
Though his attire were miserable base,
Many deepe furrowes in his manly face;
And though cold age had frosted his faire haires,
It rather seemde with sorrow then with yeares.

The one a Lady of a p…incely port,
Leading this sad Lord, scarcely that could stand,
The other fleering in disdainefull sort,
with scornefull iestures drew him by the hand,
who lame and blinde, yet bound with many a band;
which (I perceiued nearer as they came)
That this was Fortune, that more constant fame.

Fame on the right hand in a robe of golde,
whose traine old Time obsequiously did beare,
whereon in rich Embraudry was enrolde,
The acts of all the worthies euer weare,
which all might reade depainted liuely there,
Set downe in loftie well composed verse,
Fi…st the great deedes of Heroes to rehearse.

On her faire breast she two broad Tablets wore,
Of cristall th'one, the other Ebony,
where were ingrauen all the names of yore,
In the large Toombe of lasting memory,
Or the blacke booke of endlesse obloquy;
The first with Poets and with Conquerours pilde,
That with base worldlings euery where defilde.

And in her words appeared (as a wonder)
Her instant force and after-during might,
which softly spoke, farre off were heard to thunder,
About the world that quickly tooke their flight,
And brought the most obscurest things to light:
That still the farther off, the greater still
Did sound our good, or manifest our ill.

Fortune, as blinde as he whom she did leade,
Her feature often changing in an hower,
Fantastically carying her head,
Soone would she smile, and sodainely would lower,
And with one breath, her words both sweete & sower
Vpon her foes she amorously would glance,
And on her followers coily looke askance.

About her necke in manner of a chaine,
Torne diadems and broken scepters hung,
If any on her stedfastly did leane,
Them to the ground di…dainefully she flung;
And in this order as shee passt along,
Great bags of gold out of her bosome drew,
Which to the vnworthiest euermore she threw.

A duskie vaile which hid her sightlesse eyes,
Like clowdes that couer our vncertaine liues,
wherein were portraide direfull tragedies,
Fooles wearing Crownes, and wise-men clogg'd in giues,
All things how she preposterously contriues;
That as a map her regency discouers,
In Camps, in Courts, and in the fate of louers.

An easie bancke neere to this place there was,
A seate faire Flora vsde to sit vpon,
Curling her faire lockes in this liquid glasse,
Putting her rich gems and attirings on,
Fitter then this about vs was there none;
Heere set they downe this poore distressed man,
And in this sort prowd Fortune thus began.

Behold this Duke of Normandie quoth shee,
The heire of William, Conqueror of this Ile,
Appealing to be iustifi'd by thee,
(whose tragedy this Poet must compile)
He of all other that I hold most vile,
His birth being markde with my vnluckie brand,
For whom I see thou com'st preparde to stand.

What art thou but a tumor of the minde,
A bubble blowne vp with deceitfull breath,
Which neuer yet exactly wert definde,
In whom no wise man t'rereposed faith,
Speaking of few well vntill after death,
That from loose humor hast thy timelesse birth,
Vnknowne to heauen, and lesse esteemde on earth?

First in opinion hadst thou thy creation,
On whom thou still doost seruilely attend,
Like whom thou long retainst not any fashion,
But with the world vncertainely doost wend,
Which as a poste, doth vp and downe thee send;
Without prophane tongs, thou could'st neuer rise,
Nor be vpholden, were it not with lies.

In euery corner prying like a theefe,
And through each cranny subtilely doost creepe,
Apt to report, and easie of beleefe:
What's he whose counsell thou didst euer keepe,
That into clossets sawcily darste peepe…
Telling for truth, what thou canst but suppose,
And that divulging, thou shouldst not disclose.

With extreame toile and labour thou art sought,
The way is danger leadeth to thy Cell,
Onely with blood thy fauour must be bought,
And who would haue thee, fetcheth thee from hell,
Where thou impalde with fire and sword dost dwell,
And when thou art in all this perill found,
What art thou? onely but a tinckling sound.

Such as the world holds (of all other) base,
And of the rest reproachfully doth scorne,
That amongst men sit in the seruilst place,
These be the creatures which thou doost subborne,
Those waite on fame, whose weedes be neerely worne,
Yet these poore wretches come not vnto thee,
Vnlesse preferrde and dignifide by mee.

Thy trumpe such men supposed to aduance,
Is but as those fantastically deeme,
Whom folly, youth, or vanity intrance,
Onely to sound sufficing but to seeme,
(Which the wise sort a dotage but esteeme;)
And with this toy the humerous abusing,
Their wilfull error, and thy fault excusing.

Except in perill thou doost not appeare,
And yet not then, but with intreates and wooing.
Flying oft times when thou art very neare
At hand, diminishd and augmented going,
On slightest things the greatest cost bestowing;
In promising their losses to repaire,
When the performance is but onely ayre.

On balefull hearses as the fittest grounds,
(Written with blood) thy sad memorialls lie,
Whose letters are immedicable wounds,
Onely fit obiects for the weeping eye,
And from the dust thou worth doost only try;
And what sometime thou falsly didst depraue,
Thou doost acknowledge onely in the graue.

The mighty Orbe is witnesse of my power,
And how I raigne with the eternall fates,
With whom I sit in councell euery howre,
On th'alterations of the times and states,
Them setting downe their changes and their dates,
In fore-apointing euery thing to come,
Vntill the great and vniuersall doome.

The starres to me an euerlasting booke,
In that eternall register the skie,
Whose mighty volumes I do ouer-looke,
Still turning o're the leaues of destinie;
which man I to inuiolate, denie,
And his fraile will imperiously controle,
By such strong clauses as I there enrole.

Predestination giuing me a being,
whose depth mans wit could neuer throughly sound,
Into those secrets haue I onely seeing,
wherein wise Reason doth herselfe confound,
Searching where doubts do more and more abound;
where sacred texts vnlocke the way to mee,
To lighten those that will my glory see.

What names old Poets to their gods did giue,
were ouely figures to expresse my might,
To shew the vertues that in medo liue,
And my great power in this all-moouing wight,
And all their altars vnto me were dight;
Vp alterations euermore did bring,
Matter whereon, continually they sing.

Still most vncertaine varying in my course,
Yet in all changes aime one certaine end,
Crossing mans fore-cast (he may know my force)
Still foe to none, to none a perfect friend,
To him least thought of, soonest I do send;
That all should finde I worthily bestow,
Nor reasonvrge, but that I hold it so.

Forth of my lap I powre aboundant blisse,
All good proceedes from my all-giuing hand,
By me, man happy or vnhappy is;
For whom I sticke, or whom I doe with stand,
And it is I am friendships onely band;
And vpon which, all greedily take hold,
VVhich being broke, loue suddainely growes cold.

Pawsing, she frownes, when suddainely withall,
A fearefull noise ariseth from the stood,
As when a tempest furiously doth fall,
within the thicke waste of some antient wood,
That in amazement euery mortall stoode;
As though her words such powerfulnesse did beare,
That euery thing her minaces did feare.

VVhen fame yet smiling, mildely thus replies,
Alas quoth she, what labor thou hast lost,
what wond'rous mists thou casts before our eyes?
Yet will the gaine not countervaile the cost;
what wouldst thou say if thou hadst cause to boast,
which sett'st thy state forth in such wond'rous sort,
VVhich but thy selfe, none euer could report…

A thing constrained onely by euent,
Breeding in some a transitory terror;
A, what men will, that comes by accident,
And onely named to excuse their error.
What then is Fortune? or who doth preferre her?
Or who to thee so foolish is to leane,
Which weake tradition onely doth maintain?

A toy whereon the doting world doth dreame,
Soothed by that vncertaine obseruation
Of all attempts, that being the extreame,
Fastneth thereby on weake imagination;
Yet notwithstanding all this vsurpation,
Vnto thy selfe art incidently loathing
Most, when thou woldst be, that art rightly nothing.

That slightly by insinuating thus,
And vnder so allowable pretence,
Closely incroacheth on mans Genius,
In good and euill taking refidence,
And hauing got some small preheminence,
Vnto thy selfe a being that wouldst frame,
Findes in conclusion only but a name.

Those ignorant which made a god of Nature,
And Natures God diuinely neuer knew,
Were those to Fortune did direct a stature,
From whom thy worship ignorantly grew,
Which being adored foolishly by few,
Grounded thy looser and vncertaine lawes,
Vpon so weake and indigent a cause.

First, stouth did beare thee in her sleepy cell,
And thee with ease dishonourably fed,
Deliuering thee with Cowardice to dwell,
Which with base thoughts continually thee bred.
By superstition idely being led:
A lewd imposture after did thee make,
Whom for a goddesse fooles doe onely take.

And as thy followers, nothing doost forecast.
And as thou arte improuident, as light;
And this the chiefest property thou hast,
That against vertue thou bendst all thy might,
With whom thou wagest a continuall fight;
The yeelding spirite in fetters thou doost binde,
But weake and slauish to the constant minde.

Such is thy froward and malignant kinde,
That thou doost all things crossely in despight,
Thou art inamored of a barbarous hinde,
Whome thou doost make thy onely fauorite,
None but the base in basenesse doth delight;
For wert thou heauenly; thou in loue wouldst bee,
with that which neerest doth resemble thee.

But I alone the herauld am of heauen,
Whose spacious kingdome shetcheth farre and wide,
To euery coast as swift as lightning driuen,
And on the sunne-beames gloriously I ride;
Now mount I vp, now downe againe I slide:
I register the worlds eternall howres,
That know the hid will of th'immortall powres.

Men to the starres, me guiding them, do clime,
That all dimensions perfectly expresse,
And I alone the vanquisher of time,
Bearing that sweere that cures deaths bitternesse,
That doe all labour plentifully blesse,
That all obstruse profundities impart,
Leading man through the tedious wayes of Arte.

My pallace placed betwixt earth and skies,
Which many a Tower ambitiously vpheares,
Whereof the windowes are composde of eies,
The walles as strongly edifide of eares,
where euery thing in heauen and earth appeares,
Nothing so softly whispered in the round,
But through my pallace presently doth sound.

And vnder-foote floor'd all about with drummes,
The rafters trumpets admirably cleere,
Sounding alowde each name that thither comes,
The crannies tongues, and talking euery where,
And all things past doe in remembrance beare:
The doores vnlocke with euery little breath,
And open wide with euery word man saith.

And throwout hung with armes & conquer'd spoiles,
The postes whereon the goodly roofe doth stand,
Are Pillars grauen with Herculian toiles,
Th'atchieuements great of many a warrelike hand,
Both in the christen'd and in heathen land;
Done by those Nobles that are most renown'd,
Which there by me immortally are crown'd.

Here in the bodies likenes whilst it liues,
Appeare the thoughts proceeding from the minde,
To which the place a glorious habite giues,
When vnto me they freely are resignde,
To be preseru'd there, by my power refinde;
That when the body by plae death doth perish,
Then doth this place the minds true Image cherish.

My beautie neuer Fades, but as new borne,
As yeares increase, so euer waxing yong,
My strength is not diminished, nor worne,
What weakeneth all things, makes me onely strong,
Nor am I subiect vnto worldly wrong,
The rape of time I carelesly defie,
Nor am I awde by all his tyrannie.

The brow of heauen my monuments containe,
which is the mighty register of Fame,
which there in firie characters remaine,
The gorgeous seeling of th'immortall frame,
The Constellations publishing my name
where my memorialls euermore abide,
In those pure bodies highly glorifide.

F… hauing ended, Fortune next beganne,
Further to vrge what she before had said,
when (loe quoth she) duke Robert is the man,
which as my prisners I in bondes do leade,
For whome thou comst against me heere to pleade,
Whome I alone deprined of his crowne,
Who can raise him that Fortune will haue downe?

A fitter instance (Fame replying) none,
Then is Duke Robert, Fortune do thy worst,
Greater to man thy might was neuer showne,
Doing on him what euer Fortune durst;
And since thy turne allotted thee the first,
Proceede; see which the Norman Duke shall haue,
Whether that Fame, or Fortune and the graue.

Quoth Fortune then, I found th'vnstedfast starre,
Whose lucklesse working limited his fate,
That mark'd his sad natiuitie with warre,
And brothers most vnnaturall debate,
Publique sedition and with priuate hate,
And on that good his father him begunne,
Grounded the wracke and downe fal of this sonne.

What bounteous nature franckly did bestow,
Wherein her best she strained her to trie,
Thereby, himselfe I made him ouerthrow,
Aboue you both so powerfull am I;
His breast to all so openly did lie,
Iudg'd from his fashion differing so farre,
For peace too milde, too mercifull for warre.

And yet the courage that he did inherit,
And from the greatnesse of his blood did take,
Though shrowded in so peaceable a spirit,
When now his wrong so roughly did awake,
Forthwith such furie violently brake,
As made the world impartially to see,
All humane actions managed by mee.

That till reuenge was wholly him bere…t,
Opposde against so absolute a powre,
And him to leane on nothing being left,
when danger most him threatned to deuoure,
Vnto the period of the vtmost howre;
Him flattering still with promise of my loue,
Did make him all extreamities to proue.

That whilst his father with the Norman sword,
On fruitfull England prosprous entrance made,
I cast the proiect that this youthfull Lord,
In the meane time should Normandie inuade;
And with as prou'd and powerfull a blade,
Him I perswaded (constantly by this)
To make his owne yet doubtfull to be his.

That Robert daily in disgrace might runne,
As still the Conqueror towards his end did grow,
who well in yeeres, thus vexed by his sonne,
which now his will so openly did show;
His state deuised wisely to bestow,
For his owne safety that his daies to close.
He might himselfe more quietly repose.

And that lest time might coole his weakned blood,
This lucklesse warre by lingring I supplide,
That whilst Duke Robert iustly censured stood,
Vnder the weight of his vnnaturall pride;
In heate of all, this Conqueror William dide,
Setting young Rufus on th'vnrightfull throne,
Leauing h… strugling for his owne.

Which in small time so many mischiefes bred,
As sundry plagues on Williams of-springs sent,
Attaining to so violent a head,
which pollicie not after could preuent;
when to destruction all things head-long went,
And in the end, as consumating all,
Was Roberts irrecouerable fall.

When none could prosprous Nonmandie disswade,
From sending ensignes to the English field,
Brother opposde the brother to inuade,
Sword against sword, shield menaced to shield,
whose equall worth to other scorne to yield;
One arme a front, the others furious stroke,
Scepter with septer violently broke.

These sundry soiles, in both of which was sowne,
By so approu'd and fortunate a hand,
The seede to both might prosprously haue growne,
By their … in a mutuall band;
Now when these Princes opposite do stand;
what them should foster, greater wounds them lent,
Then the prowd'st powre that Europe could haue sent.

Hauing my selfe wonne William in his life,
This conquered Realme to Rufus that did giue,
Getting by strength what he did leaue in strife,
Those to molest that after him should liue;
In this aduantage cunningly I driue,
T'afflict his issue with a generall ill,
Yet th'extreame in Robert to fulfill.

As when stowt Odo (that with William held,
Daily prickt forward by prowd Lanfrancks spight,
Both powerfull Prelates rigorously compeld,
Rufus to leaue abetting Roberts right,
Drawing both Mortaines and Mongomeries might,
Mangling the Ile with many a greeuous scarre,
Scarcely yet cured of the former warre.

That being set in so direct a way,
Strong friends at hand his enterprize to becke,
Ready before him when his entrance lay,
Of all supplide that he did lately lacke,
Him I perswade the remedy to slacke,
Stopping the course which he did lately runne,
All to vndoe that he had euer done.

Thus did I stirre vp that vnkindely rage,
That did so farre preuaile vpon his blood,
And at my pleasure did againe asswage,
When now this heate in sted might him haue stood;
Thus with his humour altred I my mood,
That first by Armes his vigor he might lose,
Which then laid down gaue strength vnto his foes.

That by concluding this vntimely peace,
I might thereby a lingring warre beginne,
That whil'st these tumults did a little cease,
Craft more aduantage cunningly might winne;
Thus let I treason secretly in,
Giuing deceitfull Pollicie the kay,
To the faire closet where his councells lay,

Thus reconciling outwardly a friend,
I drew an inward and a dangerous foe,
That all his wit ambitiously did lend,
To clothe his treasons in a vertuous show;
Which were contriued …so currantly to goe,
That secret mallice strengthned more and more,
Lastly, should proue more dangerous then before.

And now poore Fame, my power to thee addrest,
And thee mine onely instrument I made,
That whilst these brothers at this passe do rest,
Him to the warres I wonne thee to perswade,
With those that now were going to inuade,
With great Duke Godfrey pressing for his bands,
From Pagans power t'regaine the holy lands.

His youthfull humour finely thus I feed,
The meane most fit to draw him forth abroad,
When now at home his presence most should neede,
In forraine lands to fasten his aboad,
Him in this order onely I bestow'd;
That William dying, Robert being gone,
Henry might seate him on his brothers throne.

So sweete the sounds of these aduent'rous Armes,
And euery sence so strougly they do binde,
That he hath now no feeling of his harmes,
So farre away transported is his minde,
Declaring well the greatnesse of his kinde;
That him so high and forcibly doth beare,
As when most cause, he least his ill doth feare.

Him hauing throwne into eternall thrall,
Wisely fore-casting how the same should bee,
When euery thing made fit vnto his fall,
Which none could hinder, though the most fore-see,
For which I made an instrument of thee;
For where destruction sadly I pretend,
Mischiefe like lines, all to their centre bend.

He gone, and William yeelded vp the breath,
The younger Henry couetous of raigne,
Offered so fairely by his brothers death,
whilst Robert doth in Palestine remaine,
And now a Kingdome easily might gaine;
what by his power and science to perswade,
Himselfe a Monarch absolutely made.

Whilst this great Duke imbraced is by thee,
which thou as thine doost absolutely claime,
Finding meere shadowes onely missing mee,
And idle Castles in the ayre doth frame;
Lot, such a mighty Monarchesse is Fame,
That what she giues, so easie is to beare,
As none therefore needes violence to feare.

Vntill returning from those holy warres,
So highly honored with the Pagans flight,
From forraigne battells vnto ciuill …arres,
And getting others for his owne to fight,
Inforc'd to vse the vtmost of his might;
with that rich sword in Pagan blood imbru'd,
Himselfe to saue by his owne friends pursu'd.

When wanting summes, the sinewes of his force,
which his great courage quickly comes to finde,
Euen in the high speede of his forward course,
So skilfully I mannaged his minde,
That I a way out readily did finde;
To his destruction, Henry to supply,
His future safetie happily to buy.

Him by all waies to amity to winne,
Not fully yet establish'd as he would,
Hauing thus farre already gotten in,
Setting himselfe substantially to hold,
By the francke offers of bewitching gold;
The yearely tribute from his Crowne to rise,
Which might all former iniuries suffice.

Which entertaind by confident beleefe,
By which to passe his purposes were brought,
Not yet suspitious of this secret theefe,
By which he soone and cunningly was caught;
Of which the least when princely Robert thought,
Euen in a moment did annoy him more,
Then all their powre could euer do before.

Which to this great Lord vtterly vnknowne,
Not vnderstanding, easily could not flie,
Into his way that subtilly was throwne,
which to auoide, Duke Robert look'd too hie,
Into good minds fraud doth the soonest prie;
whose pliant nature I securely chose,
To worke vvhat forme it pleasde me to dispose.

This fatall tribute cutting off the claime,
A lawfull Prince to Englands Empire laid,
His former right doth altogether maime,
As they agreed yeerely to be paid;
Thereon relying after being staid,
As from a fountaine plenteously did spring,
The efficient cause of Roberts ruining.

Whenas his friends so well to him that meant,
And for this day did wholly them prepare,
Seeing him thus their purpose to preuent,
And how thereby t'was like with him to fare;
Now vpon Henry bended all their care,
Giuing their power their peace with him to make,
Gathered at first the Norman part to take.

And I by whom yet euery thing had beene,
Since Norman William conquest heere begunne,
To shew my selfe the worlds emperious Queene,
Direct my course against his eldest sonne,
Things falling out disastrously to runne,
On Englands part gainst Normandie to stand,
Conquerd but lately by the Norman hand.

The conquest William made vpon this Ile,
When Norman blood the Englishmen did tame,
That natiue now enriched with her stile,
Turnde with reuenge to captiuate the same,
As backe descending whence it lately came,
As Norman power did English thrall prouoke,
That Norman neckes should beare the English yoke.

For which, being vp, and fallne to open Armes,
Such mortall hate betweene them daily growes,
And pressing in where deadly perill swarmes,
The angry brothers dealing furious blowes,
Backe to regaine what they before did loose,
Either to quit him of the others thrall,
Either to rise, or euermore to fail.

Him on whome late in Palestine I smilde,
Returnde from Fraunce now dreadfully I frowne,
Being calld home that chiefly is exilde,
And in his kingdome onely leaues his crowne,
Him in the deluge of mischance to drowne:
Lastly, himselfe contemptfully doth lose,
Leauing his realme to his iniurious foes.

Which home to England prisner doe him bring,
Left as a spoile and prey vnto his owne,
Become her captiue should haue bin her king,
Such was the lot vpon his life was throwne,
Where he remaining in continuall mone,
Prescrib'd to one poore solitarie place,
Whose lawfull bounds the ocean did embrace,

Could humane knowledge comprehend my hate,
Or reason sound the depth of things diuine,
The world amazed at Duke Roberts state,
Might thinke no might to be comparde with mine,
And all the chaunces vnto me resigne,
In Roberts fall apparantly to see,
Amongst the starres the strength that rests in mee.

That sword vpon him which resumes such powre,
Yet is too weake to consumate his daies,
Time, whose swift course doth euery thing deuoure,
In his most neede, prolongs him with delaies,
Whilst he his brothers tyrannie obeies,
That he in life a thousand deaths might die,
In euery course so forcible am I.

And whilst in such extreamity he lies,
Depriude of all comfort but the blessed light,
Yet t'was not this that could my rage suffice,
But to abridge that, rob him of his sight,
To sute his daies directly with the night;
That, that to all men lastly which should be,
Due to the wretchedst, him denide by me.

That Robert so infortunately blinde,
No outward obiect night dispearse his care,
The better to illuminate his minde,
To see his sorrowes throughly what they are,
To do so much vnto this Prince I dare,
That being depriu'd of that which was the chiefe,
Did of the other amplifie the griefe.

And when bereaued of his nightly rest,
With the remembrance of so great a wrong,
Fastning so deepely on his pensiue breast,
His heart the while that violently stung,
Nature in him doth shew herselfe so strong;
That griefe, which many doth of life depriue,
Seemes to preserue and keeps him still aliue.

Him I denide his enemy to kill,
Nor by his owne hand wretchedly to die,
That life vnto him should be loathsome still,
And that death from him euermore should flie,
Making them both to him an enemie;
Willing to die by life, him double killing,
Vrged to liue, twice dying he vnwilling,

So many yeares as he hath worne a Crowne,
So many yeares as he hath hopde to rise,
So many yeares vpon him did I frowne,
So many yeares he liues without his eyes,
So many yeares in dying e're he dies,
So many yeares shut vp in prison strong,
Sorrow doth make the shortest time seeme long.

Thus sway I in the course of earthly things,
That time might worke him euerlasting spight,
To shew how I can tyrannize on Kings,
And in the fall of great ones do delight,
In fined things my working infinite;
All worldly changes at my will disposed,
For that in me all wonder is inclosed.

At Fortunes speech amazed whilst they stand,
And Fame herselfe yet wondreth at his woe,
When from Duke Robert Fortune takes her hand,
Whose misery she thus had let them know;
When now to answer her dispightfull foe,
Fame from deepe silence seeming to awake,
Thus for her Client modestly bespake.

Quoth she, returning from renowned Rome,
Seeking my selfe in Europe to aduance,
To winne her Princes to regaine the tombe,
Which had beene lost by her misgouernance,
Calling to England, Germany and France
(At length) perswaded happily by me,
From Pagan hands faire Palestine to free.

That holy hermite long that did bemone
This their so great and euident a losse,
With famous Godfrey forwards that was gone,
Bearing the banner of the bloody Crosse.
Now whilst in so faire forwardnes it was,
And euery care attentiue now did stand,
To this great buisnes onely then in hand.

Thither did all the noblest spirites resort,
Which I that time successefully did bring,
Allured by the confident report
That from so great an enterprise did spring.
T'aduenture in so popular a thing;
And no man deemed worthy to be mine,
That was not forward in this great designe.

Where now this duke the Conqu'rors eldest sonne,
Which with his birthright Normandie did wrest,
When of what else his noble father wonne,
His brother Rufus strongly was possest;
Which whilst he striueth from his hands to rest,
This great attempt now gloriously broke forth,
Which was by me divulged through the north.

Which hauing got free entrance to his care,
Such entertainement happily did finde,
As no perswasion suffreth to be there,
From this high purpose to diuert his minde,
And being so religiously inclinde,
woo'd with this offer fitly doth prepare
Himselfe to furnish to this great affaire.

That kingdome he dooth carelesly neglect,
His brother Rufus wrongfully doth keepe,
And onely that doth constantly respect,
where he once in his sepulchre did sleepe,
At whose deere death the very rockes did weepe,
His crown of gold this christian Prince doth scorn,
So much he lou'd him that was crownd with thorne.

The want that him did grieuously oppresse,
Of those great summes in leuying power were spent,
Himselfe againe of England to possesse,
Much hindreth his religious intent,
Yet could not this his purpose so preuent,
Although a while it seemd delay to make,
Of that which he did brauely vndertake.

Wherefore this noble and high spirited Lord.
whilst novv his buisnes standeth at this stay,
And since his state no better could afford,
In gage to Henry Normandie doth lay,
Prouiding first his souldiers how to pay,
Rather himselfe chose kingdomlesse to leaue,
His countries hopes then basely to deceaue.

To his victorious ensigne comes from farre,
Th'inlled Red-shanks toucht with no remorse,
The light-foote Irish that with darts do warre,
The Scot so much delighting in his horse,
The English Archer of a Lions force,
The valiant Norman most his troupes among,
With the braue Britton wonderfully strong.

Remote from comfort in this colder clime,
To other Countries kindely doth you bring,
(And wisely teach you to redeeme the time,
Whence your eternall memory might spring)
Vnto the place whereas the heauenly King.
Your deare redemption happily beganne,
Liuing on earth, which was both God and man.

Poore Ilanders which in the Oceans chaine,
Too long imprisoned from the cheerefull day,
Your warlike leader brings you to the maine,
Which to my Court doth shew the open way,
And his victorious hand becomes the key;
Vnto so high aduentures that you beares,
Glory to you, and honour to your heires.

And doth thereto so zealously proceede,
As those faire lockes his temples that adorne,
Vntill the great Ierusalem were freed,
He made a vow should neuer more be shorne,
Which since they so religiously were worne;
In euery eye did beautifie him more,
Then did the Crowne of Normandie before.

Whilst he still on his vpright course doth hold,
As we the sequell briefely shall relate,
Bearing himselfe (as worthily he could)
And best became his dignitie and state,
Teaching how his themselues should moderate,
Not following life, so with his chance content,
Nor flying death, so truly valient.

So did he all his faculties bestow,
That euery thing exactly might be done,
That due fore-sight before the act might goe,
Others grosse errors happily to shunne,
Wisely to finish well that was begunne;
Iustly directed in the course of things,
By the straight rule from sound experience springs.

Idle regards of greatnes that did scorne,
Carelesse of pompe, magnificent to bee,
That man reputing to be noblest borne,
That was the most magnanimous and free,
In honor so impartiall was hee,
Esteeming titles meritlesse and nought,
Vnlesse with danger absolutely bought.

Giuing the souldier comfortable words,
And oft imbalmes his well-receiued wound,
To him that needed maintenance affords,
To braue attempts encouraging the sound,
Neuer dismaide in any perrill found,
His Tent a seate of iudgement to the greeu'd,
And as a Court to those should be releeu'd.

So perfect vvas that rarifying fire,
That did compose and rectifie his minde,
Vnto that place that raised his desire,
Aboue the vsuall compasse of his kinde,
And from the world so cleerely him refinde,
As him did wholy consecrate to glorie,
A subiect fit whereon to build a storie.

VVho in ambassage to the Emperour sent,
Passing along through Macedon and Thrace,
Neuer did sleepe but onely in his tent,
Till he reviewd that famous Godfreis face,
Nor till hee came vnto that halowed place,
Ne're did repose his bodie in a bed,
Such were the cares possess his troubled head.

O wherefore then great singer of thy daies,
Renovvned Tasso in thy noble storie,
Shouldst thou be tax'd as partiall in his praise,
And yet so much shouldst set forth others glorie?
Me thinkes for this thou shouldst be inly sorie,
That thou shouldst leaue another to recite,
That which so much thou didst neglect to write.

There was not found in all the christian hoste,
Any than he more forward to the field,
Nor their battallions could another boast,
To beare himselfe more brauely with his shield,
So well his armes this noble Duke could wield,
As such a one he properly should be,
That… I did meane to consecrate to me.

Of so approoued and deliuer force,
Charging his launce or brandishing his blade,
Whether on foote, or managing his horse,
That open passage through the ranckes he made,
At all assaies so happy to inuade,
That were he absent in the charge or chase,
It was supposde the day did loose the grace.

In doubtfull fights where danger soon'st did fall,
He would be present euer by his will,
And where the Christians for supplies did call,
Thither through perill Robert pressed still,
To help by valour, or relieue by skill;
To euery place so prouidently seeing,
As power in him had absolutely being.

When in the morne his Courser he bestrid,
He seemd composde essentially of fire,
But from the field he euer drowping rid,
As he were vanquisht onely to retire,
Neerest his rest, the furth'st from his desire,
And in the spoiles his souldiers share the crownes,
They rich in golde, he only rich in wounds.

And when the faire Ierusalem was wonne,
And king thereof they gladly him would make,
All worldly titles he so much doth shunne,
As he refusde the charge on him to take,
One the vaine world that cleerely did forsake,
So farre it was from his religious minde,
To mixe things vile with those of heauenly kinde.

No triumph did his victories adorne,
But his high praise for sinfull man that dide,
Nor other marke of victory is worne,
But that red Crosse to tell him crucifide,
All other glories that himselfe denide:
A holy life so willingly he leades,
In dealing almes, and bidding of his beades.

Thus a poore Pilgrime he returnes againe,
For glittring armes in Palmers homely gray,
Leauing his Lords to leade his warrelike traine,
Whilst he alone comes sadly on the way,
Dealing abroad his lately purchasde pray;
An aged staffe his carefull hand doth hold,
That with a launce his heathen foe controlde.

But now to end this long continued strife,
Henceforth thy mallice takes no further place,
The hate thou bar'st him ended with his life,
By thee his spirite can suffer no disgrace,
Now in mine armes his vertues I embrace,
His body thine, his crosses witnes bee,
But mine his minde, that from thy powre is free.

Thou gau'st vp rule when he gaue vp his breath,
And where thou end'st, eu'n there did I beginne,
Thy strength was buried in his timelesse death,
when as thy Conquerour lastly came I in,
That all thou gotst from thee againe did winne;
To whom thy right thou wholy didst resigne,
That all thou hadst was absolutely mine.

To the base world then Fortune get thee backe,
The same with drery tragedies to fill,
There by thy power bring all things vnto wracke,
And on weake mortalles onely worke thy will,
And since so much thou doost delight in ill,
Heare his complaint, who wanting eies to see,
May giue thee sight, which arte as blinde as hee.

At her great words amazed whilst they stand,
The Prince which looked dreadfully and grimme,
Bearing his eies in his distressefull hand,
Whose places stoode with blood vnto the brimme,
In the great anguish shaking euery limme;
After deepe sighes and lamentable throwes,
Thus gan at length to vtter forth his woes.

Saith he, farewell, the lights are now put out,
And where they were, is buried all my ioy,
That are with darkenes compassed about,
Which tiranny did wilfully destroy,
To breed my more perpetuall annoy,
That euen that sense I onely might forgoe;
That could alone giue comfort to my woe.

You which beheld faire Palestine restorde,
And from prophane hands of the Pagans freed,
The Sepulchre of that most gratious Lord,
And seen the mount where his deere wounds did bleed
That with these sights my zealous soule did feede;
Sith from your functions night doth you disseuer,
Seclude me now from worldly ioyes for euer.

They sawe no Sunne, nor did they view the day,
Except a candle, they beheld no light,
Strong walles before those blessings kept away,
What could be feard'? they could not hurt the night,
For then teares wholy hindred them of sight;
O then from whence should Henries hate arise,
Though I sawe nothing that I should haue eies?

The wretchedst thing the most despisedst beast,
Enioyes that sence as generally as wee,
The very Gnat, or what than that is least,
Of sight by nature kindely is made free,
What thing hath mouth to feede, but eies to see,
O that a tyrant then should me deprane,
Of that which else all liuing creatures haue:

Whilst yet the light did mittigate my moane,
Teares found a meane to sound my sorrowes deepe,
But now ay me, that comfort being gone,
By wanting eies wherewith I erst did weepe,
My cares alas concealed I must keepe;
O God, that blindenesse stealing my delight,
Should aboue all things giue my sorrow sight

Where sometime stoode the beauties of this face,
Those lampes once lighted with the vestall flame,
Is now a dungeon, a distressed place,
A harbour fit for infamy and shame,
Which but with horrour none can scarcely name;
Out of whose darke grates misery and griefe,
Starued for vengeance, daily beg reliefe.

The day abhorres me, and me still doth flie,
Night still me followes, yet too long doth stay,
This neuer comes though it be euer nie,
And this in comming vanisheth away,
What now me booteth either night or day;
All's one, stil day, or be it euer night,
Sith one to me the darkenesse and the light.

You wherewith once my comforts I did view,
Th'alcouering heauen and glory that it beares,
No more the same shall e're be seene of you,
That happy sight that euery mortall cheares,
No more to me for euer nowe appeares;
Betake you selues vnto your darkesome cell,
And bid the world eternally farewell.

His speech thus ending, Fortune discontent,
Turning herselfe as she away would flie,
Playing with babes and fooles incontinent,
As neuer tutch'd with humane miserie,
As what she was herselfe to verifie;
And strait forgetting what she had to tell,
To other speech and girl…sh laughter fell.

When gracefull Fame conueying thence her charge,
With all these troupes that did to her resort,
Gaue me this booke, wherein was writ at large,
His life set out in admirable sort,
T'amaze the world with this so true report,
But Fortune angry with her foe therefore,
Gaue me this gift, that I should still be pore.