Book II

At Burton-bridge the puissant armies me…,
The forme and order of the doubtfull fight,
Whereas the King the victory doth get,
And the prowd Barrons lastly forcde to flight;
How they againe towardes Burrough forward set,
Where then the Lords are vanquished outright,
Lastly, the lawes doe execute their power,
On those the sword before did not deuoure.

THis chance of warre, that dreadfully had swept
So large a share from their full-reckned might,
Which their prowd hopes so carefully had kept
Whilst yet their state stoode equally vpright,
That could at first so closely intercept,
That should haue seru'd them for a glorious fight,
Musters supplies of footemen, and of horse,
To giue a new strength to their ruinde force.

Th'inueterate griefe so deepe and firmely rooted,
Yet slightly curde by this short strengthelesse peace;
To assay t'remoue, since it but vainely booted,
That did with each distemprature increase,
And being by euery offerd cause promooted,
Th'effect too firmely setled to surcease:
When each euasion sunday passions brought,
Strange formes of feare in euery troubled thought.

And put in action for this publique cause,
Whilst euery one a party firmely stoode,
Taxt by the letter of the censuring lawes,
In the sharpe tainder of his honoured blood;
And he thats free'st, entangled by some clause,
Which to this mischiefe giues continuall food;
For where confusion gets so strongly hold,
Till all consumde, can hardly be controlde.

Where now by night, euen when pale leaden sleepe,
Vpon their eie-lids heauily did dwell,
And, step by step, on euery sence did creepe,
Mischiefe (that blacke inhabitant of hell)
Which neuer failes continuall watch to keepe,
Fearefull to thinke, a horred thing to tell,
Entred the place where now these warlike Lordes
Lay maild in armour, girt with irefull swords.

Mischiefe with sharpe sight, and a meager looke,
And alwaies prying where she may do ill,
In which the fiend continuall pleasure tooke,
Her starued body Plenty could not fill,
Searching in euery corner, euery nooke,
With winged feete, too swift to worke her will;
Hung full of deadly instruments she went,
Of euery sort to hurt where ere she meant,

And with a viall fild with banefull wrath,
Brought from Cocytus by this cursed spright,
Which in her blacke hand readily she hath,
And drops the poison vpon euery wight;
For to each one she knew the readie path:
Now in the midst and dead-time of the night,
Whose enuious force inuadeth euery Peere,
Striking with furie, and impulsiue feare.

The weeping morning breaking in the East,
When with a troubled and affrighted mind,
Each whom this venom lately did infest,
The strong effect soone inwardly do find;
And lately troubled by vnquiet rest,
To sad destruction euery one inclind;
Rumours of spoile through euery eare doth flye,
And fury sits in eu'ry threatning eye.

This doone, in haste vnto King Edward hies,
Which now growne proude vpon his faire successe,
The time in feasts and wantonnesse implies
With crowned cups his sorrowes to redresse,
That on his fortune wholy now relies,
And in the bosome of his Courtly presse
Vaunting the glory of this late wonne day,
Whilst the sick Land with sorrow pines away.

Thether she comes, and in a Minions shape
Shee creepeth neere the person of the King,
Warm'd with the verdure of the swelling grape,
In which, she poyson secretly doth wring,
Not the least drop vntaynted doth escape,
To which intent she all her store did bring,
Whose rich commixtu…e making it more strong,
Fills his hote veines with arrogance and wrong.

And hauing both such courage, and such might
As to so great a businesse did belong,
Neuer considering their pretended right
Should be inducement to a trebled wrong,
When misty error so deludes their sight,
Which still betwixt them, and cleere reason hong;
By which opinion falsly was abusde,
As left all out of order, all confusde.

Now our Minerua tells of dreadfull Armes,
Inforc'd to sing of worse then ciuill warres,
Of Ambuscades, stratagems, alarmes,
Vnkind discentions, fearfull massacars,
Of gloomy magiques, and benumming charmes,
Fresh-bleeding wounds, and neuer-healed skarrs,
And for the sock wherein she vsde to tread,
Marching in greaues, a helmet on her head.

Whilst hate, and griefe, their weakned sence delude,
The Barrons draw their forces to a head,
(Whome Edward spur'd with vengeance still pursude)
By Lancaster, and noble Herford led,
This long proceeding lastly to conclude;
Whilst now to meet, both Armies freshly sped
To Burton, both incamping for the day,
With expectation for a glorious pray.

Vpon the East, from Needwoods bushy side,
There riseth vp an easie clyming hill,
At whose faire foote the siluer Trent doth glide,
With a deep murmure permanent and still,
With liberall stor… of many Brooks supplide,
Th'…n…atiate Meades continually doe fill,
Vpon whose streame, a bridge of wondrous strēgth
Doth stretch it selfe in forty arches length.

Vppon this Mount the Kings pauillion fixt,
And in the towne, the foe intrench'd in sight,
When now the flood is risen so betwixt,
That yet a while prolong'd th'unturall fight,
With tributarie waters intermixt,
To stay the furie dooing all it might,
Things which presage both good and ill there bee,
Which heauen fore-shewes, but mortals cannot see.

The heauen euen mourning o're our heads doth sit,
As greeu'd to see the time so out of course,
Looking on them who neuer looke at it,
And in meere pittie melting with remorce,
Longer from teares that cannot stay a whit,
Whose confluence on euery lower sourse,
From the swolne fluxure of the clowdes doth shake
A ranke Impostume vpon euery lake.

O warlike Nation! hold thy conquering hand,
Euen sencelesse things admonish thee to pawse,
That Mother soyle on whom thou yet doost stand,
That would restraine thee by all naturall lawes.
Canst thou (vnkinde) inuiolate that band,
When even the earth is angry with the cause?
Yet stay thy foote in mischiefes vglie gate,
Ill comes too soone, repentance still too late.

And can the clowdes weepe ouer thy decay,
And not one drop fall from thy droughtie eyes?
See'st thou the snare, and wilt not shun the way,
Nor yet be warn'd by passed miseries?
T'is yet but early in this fatall day;
Let late experience learne thee to be wise,
Mischiefe foreseene, may easly be preuented,
But hap'd, vnhelp'd, though nere enough lamented.

Cannot the Scot of your late slaughter boast?
And are you yet scarce healed of the sore?
I'st not enough you haue alreadie lost,
But your owne madnesse needsly make it more?
Will you seeke safety in a forraine Coast?
Your wiues and children pittied you before;
But when your own blood your own swords imbrue,
Who pitties them which once did pittie you?

The neighbouring groues dispoiled of their trees,
For boates, and timber to assay this flood,
Where men are laboring as the Summer bee,
Some hollowing truncks, som binding heaps of wood,
Some on their breasts, some working on their knees,
To winne the bancke whereon the Barrons stood,
Which o're this current they by strength must tew,
To shed that blood that many ages rew.

Some sharpen swords, some on their Murrians set
The Greaues, and pouldrons others riuet fast,
The archers now their bearded arrowes whet,
Whilst euery where the clamerous Drums are bra'st,
Some taking view where surest ground to get,
And euery one advantage doth fore-cast;
In ranks and fyles each plaine and meadow swarmes,
As though the land were clad in angry Armes.

The crests and honours of the English name,
Against their owne opposed rudely stand,
As angry with th'atchieuements whence they came,
That to their vertues gaue the generous brand;
O you vnworthy of your ancient fame,
Against your selues to lift your conqu'ring hand!
Since forraine swords your height could not abate,
By your owne powre your selues to ruinate.

Vpon his surcoate valiant Neuell bore
A siluer saltoyre grac'd on martiall red;
A Ladies sleeue hie-spirited Hastings wore,
Ferrer his Taberd with rich verry spred,
Wel knowne in many a warlike match before;
A Rauen sate on Corbets warlike head,
Cou'ring his Helmet; Culpepper inrayld,
On maiden Armes, a bloodie bend engrayld,

The noble Percy in this furious day,
With a bright Cressant in his guide-home came,
In his faire Cornet Verdoon dooth display
A Geuly fret, priz'd in this mortall game
That had beene taskt in many a doubtfull fray,
His launces pennons stained with the same;
The angry horse chafde with the stubborne bit,
The ruinous earth with rage and horror smit.

I could the summe of Staffords arming show,
What colours Courtney, Rosse and Warren holde,
Each sundry blazon I could let you know,
And all the glorious circumstance haue tolde,
What all the Ensignes standing in arow,
But wailing in a Muse, (ah me) thou arte controlde,
When in remembrance of this horred deede,
My pen for inke euen drops of blood doth sheede.

Th'imperiall standard in this place is pitcht,
With all the hatchments of the English crowne,
Great Lancaster with all his power enricht,
Sets the same Leopards in his Colours downe;
O if with furie you be not bewitcht,
Haue but remembrance, on your selfe you frowne,
A little note, or difference is in all,
How can the same stand, when the same dooth fall?

Behold the Eagles, Lyons, Talbots, Beares,
The badges of your famous ancestries,
And shall they now by their inglorious heires,
Stand thus oppos'd against their families?
More honoured markes no Christian nation weares,
Reliques vnworthie of their progenies;
Those beasts you beare, do in their kindes agree.
O that than beasts more sauage men should bee!

But whilst the king no course concluded yet,
In his directions variably doth houer,
See how misfortunes still her time can fit,
Such as were sent the Country to discouer;
As vp and downe, from place to place they flit,
Had found a foord to land their forces ouer:
Ill newes hath wings, and with the winde doth goe,
Comfort's a Cripple, and comes euer slow.

When Edward fearing Lancasters supplies,
Prowd Richmond, Surry and great Penbrooke sent,
On whose successe his chiefest hope relies;
Vnder whose conduct halfe his Army went,
The neerest way, conducted by thespies;
And he himselfe, and Edmond Earle of Kent,
Vpon the hill, in sight of Burton lay,
Watching to take aduantage of the day.

Stay, Surry stay, thou mai'st too soone be gone,
Pawse till this rage be somewhat ouer past,
Why runn'st thou thus to thy destruction?
Richmond and Penbrooke, whither doe you haste?
You labour still to bring more horror on;
Neuer seeke sorrow, for it comes too fast:
Why do you striue to passe this fatall flood,
To fetch new wounds, and shed your natiue blood?

Great Lancaster, sheath vp thy angry sword,
On Edwards armes whose edge thou shouldst not whet,
Thy naturall kinsman, and thy soueraigne Lord;
Are you not one, both true Plantaginet?
Call but to mind thy once-engaged word,
Canst thou thy oath to Longshankes thus forget?
Consider well, before all other things
Our vowes be kept we make to Gods and Kings.

The windes are hush'd no little breath doth blow,
Which seemes so still as though it listning stood,
With trampling crouds the verie earth doth bow,
And through the smoke the sunne appeares like blood;
What with the shout, and with the dreadfull show,
The heirds and flockes runne bellowing to the wood.
When drums and trumpets giue the fearfull sound,
As they would shake the clowds vnto the ground.

The Earles then charging with their power of horse,
Taking a signall when they should beginne,
Being in view of the imperiall force,
Which at the time assay'd the bridge to winne;
That now the Barrons change th'intended course,
T'auoide the danger they were lately in;
Which on the suddaine had they not fore-cast,
Of their blacke day this howre had beene the last.

When from the hill the Kings maine power comes downe,
Which had Aquarius to their valiant guide,
Braue Lancaster and Herford from the towne
Now issue forth vpon the other side,
Peere against peere, the crowne against the crowne,
The one assailes, the other munifide,
Englands red crosse vpon both sides doth flie,
Saint George the king, S. George the Barrons crie.

Like as an exhalation hote and dry,
Amongst the ayre-bred moistie vapors throwne,
Spetteth his lightning forth outragiously,
Rending the grosse clowdes with the thunder-stone,
Whose fierie splinters through the thin ayre flie,
That with the terror heauen and earth doth grone;
With the like clamor and confused woe,
To the dread shocke these desp'rate Armies goe.

Now might you see the famous English Bowes
So fortunate in times we did subdue,
Shoote their sharpe arrowes in the face of those
which many a time victoriously them drew,
Shunning their aime, as troubled in the loose;
The winged weapons mourning as they slew.
Cleaue to the string, (now in potent and slacke)
As to the Archers they would faine turne backe.

Behold theremnant of Troyes auntient stocke,
Laying on blowes, as Smiths on Anuils strike,
Grapling together in this fearefull shocke,
whereas the like incountreth with the like,
As firme and ruthlesse as th'obdurate Rocke,
Deadly opposed at the push of pike;
Still as the wings, or battels brought together,
when Fortune yet giues vantage vnto neither.

From battred caskes with euery enuious blow,
The scattred plumes flie loosly heere and there,
which in the ayre dooth seeme as drifts of snow,
which euery light breath on his wings dooth beare,
As they had sence and feeling of our woe;
And thus affrighted with the present feare,
Now backe, now forward such strange windings make,
As though vncertaine which way they should take.

Slaughter runnes wildely through th'afflicted hoste
Whilst yet the battaile strongly dooth abide,
That in this strange distemprature is lost,
Where hellish fury sensibly doth guide,
Neuer suffisde, where tyrannizing most,
That now their woundes (with mouthes euen opend wide,)
Lastly inforcde to call for present death,
That wants but tongues, your swords do give them breath.

Heere lies a heape halfe slaine, and halfly drownd,
Gasping for breath among the watry segs,
And there a sort falne in a deadly swownd,
Troade with the presse into the muddy dregs,
Other lie bleeding on the firmer ground,
Hurt in the bodies, maimde of armes and legs,
One kills a foe, his braine another cuts;
Ones feete intangled in anothers guts.

One his assayling enemie beguiles,
As from the bridge hee happily dooth fall,
Crusht with his weight vpon the forced piles,
Some in their gore vpon the pauement spraule,
That euery place so loathsomely defiles,
The careasses lie heaped like a wall,
Such hideous shreekes yet stil the souldiers breathe,
As though the spirits had howled from beneathe.

The faction still defying Edwards might,
Edmond of Woodstocke with the men of Kent,
Charging afresh, reuiues the doubtfull fight,
Vpon the Barrons languishing and spent,
New preparation for a tragicke fight;
when they againe supplies immediate sent
A second battaile prowdly to beginne;
The noblest spirits but newly entred in.

As at Troyes sacke, faire Thetis godlike sunne,
Couragious Talbot with his shield him bare,
Clifford and Mowbray brauely following on,
Awdley and Gifford thronging for a share;
These seconding, the former being gone,
Elmsbridge and Baldsmere in the thickest are,
Pell mell together flie this furious powre,
when they perceiue that death will all deuoure.

Mountfort and Teis, your woorth I faine would speake,
But that your valu…e dooth so ill deserue,
And Denuile heere from thee perforce must breake,
And from thy praises Willington must swerue,
Your deeds permit not I your wrongs should wreake,
Prowd Damory, heere must thy glorie starue:
Concealing many most deseruing blame,
Because your actions quench my sacred flame.

O had you fashion'd your great deedes by them,
Who sommond Acon with an English drumme,
Or marcht before that faire Ierusalem,
With the vnited powres of Christendome,
Eternall then had beene your Diadem,
And with Christs warriors slept about his toombe:
Then ages had immortalizde your name,
Where now my song can be but of your shame.

O age inglorious, armes vntimely borne,
When now this prooued and victorious shield
Must in this ciuill massacre be torne,
Which bare the markes of many a bloody field;
And lastly, in their ouerthrowne forlorne,
When now to flight the Barrons basely yeeld,
That since that time the stones for very dreed,
Against foule storms smal drops of moisture sheed.

When now those wretched and vnstedfast frends,
Which all this while stoode doubtfully to pawse,
When they perceiue what desteny intends,
And his successe dooth iustifie his cause,
Their faintnesse now more comfort apprehends,
For victory both feare and friendship drawes,
T'an open smile, conuert a couered frowne,
All lend their hands to hew the conquered downe.

That part of power th' emperiall seemde to lacke,
whilst yet the aduerse bare an vpright face,
when now constraind to giue a recreant backe,
Quickely returnes to prosecute the chase,
where now the Barrons wholy goe to wracke,
In the iust trial of so neere a case;
Inforede to prooue the fortune of the coast,
When they perceine the glorious goale is lost.

And to the fortunes of the conqu'ring King,
Which well confirmde his long and tendred hope,
His faire successe still more incouraging,
which now had gote so large and ample scope,
The Earle of Carlell happily dooth bring
His light-armde bands the valiant Northerne troope,
Armed too lately, and with too much speed,
To doe most harme, euen when we least had need.

When now the Barrons making out their way,
Through partes for safety, and aduantage knowne,
Keeping their force still bodied as they may,
Into the depth of this misfortune throwne;
And in pursuite, deuising day by day
T' offend th' assailant, and defend their owne,
In their last hope the vtmost to endure,
To deferre th' effect, although the end were sure.

And whilst their fortune suting sadly thus,
To Burrough-bridge conducted by their fate,
Bridges to Barrons euer ominous,
And to this place their fall preordinate,
That ministring such cause of griefe to vs,
By the remembrance of their passed state;
The very soile by deepe impression yit,
Euen to this day doth still remember it.

New courage now, new fights, new battells rangde,
New breath (but what might make destruction new)
They change the ground, but yet their fate vnchangde,
Which too directly doth their course pursue,
Nor from their former misery estrangde,
Their strength decayes, their dangers daily grew,
To shorten that which whilst it did depend,
Gaue a long breathing to a fearefull end.

Like to a heird of weary heartlesse deere,
whom hote-sporrde huntsmen seriously doe chase,
In brakes and bushes falling heere and there,
Proouing each couert, euery secret place,
Yet by the hounds recouered euery where,
with eager yearning in the sented trace;
Hem'd on each side with hornes rechating blast,
Headlong themselues into the toyles doe cast.

Ensigne beards ensign, sword genst sword doth shake,
Wing against wing, and ranke doth ranke oppose,
In, on each other furiously they brake,
And death in earnest to his bus'nesse goes,
A generall hauocke as disposde to make,
And with destruction dooth them all inclose,
Dealing it selfe impartially to all,
Friend by his friend, and foe by foe doth fall.

This parte of life which yet they did respire,
In spite of Fortune, as they stood preparde,
With courage chargde, with comelinesse retire,
Make good their ground, & then relieue their guarde,
Withstand the entrer, then pursue the flier,
New forme their battell, shifting euery warde,
As your hie courage; but were your quarrell good,
O noble spirits, how deare had bin your blood?

The Northerne bands th' ambitious Herckley led
On the weake Barrons mangled so before,
That now towards Burrough make a puissant head,
Incouraging th' emperiall power the more;
O day so fatall, and so full of dread,
When ere shall time thy ruinous waste restore,
Which to amend although thou shalt perseuer,
Thou still maist promise, but performe it neuer.

Pale death beyond all wonted bounds doth swell,
Caruing prowd flesh in cantells now at large,
As leaues in Autumne, so the bodies fell
Vnder rough steele at euery boystrous charge,
O what sad pen can the destruction tell,
Where scalps lay beaten as the battred targe;
And euery one he claimeth as his right,
That not prouides t' escape away by flight.

Those ensignes erst, that in the glittring field
With their curld foreheads threat th' ambitious foe,
Like wetherd foule the drowping pinions yeeld,
Stouping their prowde heads to the dust below,
There sits a helmet, and there lies a shield,
O ill did fate these noble Armes bestow,
Which as a quarry on the soilde earth lay,
Seizde on by conquest as a glorious pray.

Heere noble Bohune that braue, issued peere,
Herford so hie in euery gracious heart,
Vnto his country so receiude, and deere,
Wounded by treason in the lower part.
(As o're the bridge his men returning were)
Through those ill-ioynd planckes by an enuious dart:
But Lancaster, whose lot not yet to die,
Taken, reseru'd to greater infamie.

O subiect for some sadder Muse to sing,
Of fiue great Earledomes happily possest,
Of the direct line of the English king,
with fauours friends, and earthly honours blest,
If so that all these happinesse could bring,
Or could endow assurednes of rest;
But what estate stands free from fortunes powre?
The Fates haue guidance of our time and howre.

Some few themselues in sanctuaries hide,
In mercie of that priuiledged place,
Yet are their bodies so vnsanctifide,
As scarce their soules can euer hope for grace;
Whereas they still in want and feare abide,
A poore dead life this draweth out a space,
Hate stands without, and horror sits within,
Prolonging shame, but pard'ning not their sinne.

Here is not death contented with the dead,
As though of some thing carelesly denide,
Till which might firmely be accomplished
His vtmost fully were not specifide,
That all exactly might be perfected
A further torment vengeanec dooth prouide,
That dead men should in misery remaine,
To make the liuing die with greater paine.

You soueraine Citties of th' afflicted Ile,
In Cipresse wreathes, and widowed attire,
Prepare yee now to build the funerall pile;
Lay your pale hands vnto this latest fire,
All mirth and comfort from your streetes exile,
Till you be purgde of this infectious ite,
The noblest blood yet liuing to be shed,
That euer dropt from your rebellious dead.

When this braue Lord great Lancaster, who late
This pu…ssant force had now thus long retainde,
As the first Agent in this strange debate
At fatall Pomfret for those facts arraignde;
… whom of all things they articulate,
To whom these factions chiefly appertainde:
Whose proofes apparant so directly sped,
As from his body reft a reuerent head.

Yet Lancaster, it is not thy deere breath
Can ransome backe the safety of the Crowne,
Nor make a league of so great powre with death,
To warrant what is rightfully our owne,
But they must pay the forfait of their faith,
Which sondly broke with their ambition,
when now reuenge vnto the vtmost rackt,
The Agents iustly suffer with the act.

Euen in that place where he had lately led,
As this darke path vnto the rest to show,
It was not long ere many followed,
In the same steps that he before did goe;
London, thy freedom is prohibited,
The first in place (O would the first in woe)
Others in blood did not excell thee farre,
That now deuoure the remnant of this warre.

O parents ruthfull, and hart-renting sight,
To see that sonne thy tender bosome fed,
A mothers ioy, a fathers sole delight,
That with much cost, yet with more care was bred;
A spectacle euen able to affright
Th' most sencelesse thing, and terrifie the dead;
His blood so deere vpon the cold earth powr'd,
His quarter'd coarse of birds and beasts deuour'd.

But t'is not you that heere complaine alone,
Or to your selues this fearefull portion share,
Heere's choice, and strange variety of moane,
Poore childrens teares with widdowes mixed are;
Many a friends sigh, many a maidens grone,
So innocent, so simply, pure, and rare;
As though euen Nature that long silent kept,
Burst out in plaints, and bitterly had wept.

O wretched age, had not these things beene done,
I had not now in these more calmer times
Into the search of former troubles runne;
Nor had my virgine impolluted rimes,
Altred the course wherein they first begunne,
To sing these bloodie and vnnaturall crimes,
My layes had still beene to Ideas bowre,
Of my deere Ankor, or her loued Stoure.

Or for our subiect your faire worth to chuse,
Your birth, your vertue, and your hie respects,
That gently daine to patronize our Muse,
Who our free soule ingeniously elects
To publish your deserts, and all your dues
Maugre the Momists, and Satyricke sects,
Whilst my great verse eternally is sung,
You still may liue with me in spight of wrong.

But greater things reserued are in store,
Vnto this taske my armed Muse to keepe,
Still offering me occasion as before,
Matter whereof my tragicke verse may weepe;
And as a vessell being neere the shore,
By aduerse windes enforced to the deepe,
Am driuen backe from whence I came of late,
Vnto the bus'nes of a troubled state.