Book V

Th'imprisoned King his gouernement for sakes,
And to the Peeres his weakenesse so excused,
Who him ere long from Leisters keeping takes,
That with much woe his soueraigne Lord refused,
His torturers of him a mockery makes,
And basely, and reproachfully abused,
By secret waies to Berckley being led,
And cruelly in prison murthered.

THe wretched King vnnaturally betrayd,
By lewd coruption of his natiue Land,
From thence with speede to Kennelworth conuayd,
By th'Earle of Leister with a mightie band,
Some few his fauorers quickely ouer-wayd,
And now a present Parlement in hand,
To ratifie the generall intent,
His resignation of the gouernment.

Falne through the frailtie of intemperate will,
That with his fortunes it so weakely farde,
To vndergoe that vnexpected ill,
For his deserued punishment preparde,
The measure of that wretchednesse to fill,
To him alotted as a iust reward,
Armes all with malice, either lesse or more,
To strike at him that strooke at all before.

And being a thing the commons daily craue,
To which the great are resolutely bent,
Such forward helpes on eu'ry side to haue,
T'effect their strong and forcible intent,
Which now that speede vnto their action gaue,
That ratifi'd by generall consent,
Still hastned on to execute the thing,
Which for one ill, two worse should shortly bring.

Bishops, Earles, Abbots, and the Barrons all,
Each in due order as becomes the state,
Set by the Heraults in that goodly hall,
The Burgesses for places corporate,
Whom this great busnes at this time doth call,
For the Cinque-ports the Barrons conuocate,
And other Knights, for the whole body sent,
Both on the South, and on the North of Trent.

From his impris'ning chamber clad in blacke,
Before th'assembly sadly he is brought,
A dolefull hearse vpon a dead mans backe,
whose heauy lookes might tell his heauier thought,
In which there doth no part of sorrow lacke,
Nor fained action needes to grieue be taught:
His funerall solemniz'd in his cheere,
His eyes the mourners, and his legs the Beere.

Torleton, as one select to this intent,
The best experienc'd in this great affaire,
A man graue, subtile, stowt, and eloquent,
First with faire speech th'assembly doth prepare,
Then with a voyce austere and eminent,
Doth his abuse effectually declare,
As winnes each sad eye with a reuerent feare,
With due attention drawing eu'ry eare.

The great exactions raised by the King,
With whose full plenty he is Mineons fed,
Himselfe and subiects so impou'rishing,
And that deere blood he lauishly had shed,
Which desolation to the land should bring,
And the chiefe cause by his lewd riots bred;
The losse in warre sustained through his blame,
The during scandall to the English name.

Proceeding forward to the future good,
That their dissignements happily intend,
And with what vpright policie it stoode,
No after hopes their for tunes to amend,
The resignation to his proper blood,
That might the action lawfully defend,
The present neede that willd it strictly so,
Whose imposition they might not sorslowe.

Pardon me Art, that striuing to be short,
To this intent a speech deliuering,
And that at full I doe not heere report
Matters that tuch deposing of the King,
My faithfull Muse, O doe not thou exhort
The after times to so abhorr'd a thing,
To shew the reasons forcibly were laide,
Out of thy feelings what hee might haue saide.

The strong deliu'ry of whose vehement speech,
Borne with a dauntlesse, and contracted brow,
That with such steme seueritie did teach,
His reasons more authentique to allow,
Which the more easly made the dang'rous breach,
By the remembrance of a generall vow:
To which they heere must openly contest,
When Edward comes to consumate the rest.

His faire cheeke couerd in pale sheets of shame,
And as a dumbe shew in a swowne began,
Where passion dooth such sundry habites frame,
As eu'ry sence a right Tragedian,
Truely to shew from whence his sorrow came,
Beyond the compasse of a common man,
where Nature seemes a practiser in Art,
Teaching Dispaire to act a liuely part.

Ah Pitty, dost thou liue, or wert thou not,
Mortalls by such sights haue to flint bin turned,
Or what men haue beene, hath their seed forgot,
Or was it neuer knowne that any mourned,
In what so strangely are we ouershot?
Against our owne selfe hath our frailtie spurned,
Or teares hence forth abandon humane eies,
And neuer-more to pit…y miseries.

He takes the Crowne yet scornefully vnto him,
With slight regarde, as scarcely thinking on it,
As though not sencelesse that it should forgoe him,
And sildome casts a scornefull eie vpon it,
would seeme to leaue it, and would haue it woe him,
Then snatching it, as loath to haue forgone it,
Yet puts it from him, yet he will not so,
would faine retaine what faine he would forgoe.

In this confused conflict of the minde,
Teares drowning sighes, and sighs confounding teares,
Yet whenas neither libertie could finde,
Oppressed with the multitude of …eares,
Stands as a man affrighted from his kinde,
Griefe becomes senslesse when too much it beares,
whilst speech & silēce striues which place shuld take
From his ful bosome thus his sorrowee brake.

If that my title rightfully be planted,
Vpon a true indubitate succession,
Confirmd by nations as by nature granted,
That freely hath deliuerd me possession,
Impute to heauen sufficiencie t'haue wanted,
which must deny it power, or you oppression,
which into question by due course may bring,
The grieued wrongs of an annointed King.

That halowed vnction by a sacred hand,
which once was powrde on this emperious head,
which wrought th'iudument of a strict command,
And round about me the rich verdure spred,
Either my right in greater stead must stand,
Or why in vaine was it so idely shed,
whose prophanation and vnreueret tuch,
Iust heauen hath often punisht alwayes much.

When from the bright beames of our soueraine due,
Descends the strength of your enated right,
And prosperously deriues it selfe to you,
As from our fulnes taking borrowed light,
which to your safeties alwayes firme and true,
Why thus repugne you by prepostrous might?
But what heauen lent me vertuously t'haue vsed,
Leaues to your power what weaknes hath abused.

But heere I doe resigne it to your King,
Pawsing heereat as though his tongue offended,
with griping throwes seemes forth that word to bring,
Sighing a full point as he there had ended,
O how that sound his grieued heart doth wring,
Which he recalling gladly would haue mended:
Things of small moment we can scarcely holde,
But griefes that touch the heart are hardly colde.

But being past, he prosecutes in teares,
Calming that tempest with a shower of raine,
As he had stroue to keepe it from his eares,
Quoth he, the liegeman to your Soueraigne?
O in his lippes how vile that word appeares,
Whereat ashamde doth sadly pawse againe,
Yes, yes, euen say so vnto him you beare it,
Ift be yong Edward that you meane shall weare it.

Let him account his bondage from that day
That he is with the Diademe inuested,
A glittering Crowne hath made this haire so gray,
Within whose circle he is but arrested,
To true content this not the certaine way,
With sweeter cates a meane estate is feasted,
And when his prowd feet scorne to tuch the mold,
His head a prisner in a gayle of golde.

His subiects numbred, numbring of his care,
And when with showts the people doe beginne,
Let him suppose th'applause but prayers are
T'escape the danger that they see him in,
Wherein t'aduenture he so boldly dare;
The multitude hoth multitudes of sinne,
And he thats first to cry, God saue the King,
Is the first man doth newes of sorrow bring.

Appeasing tumults hate cannot appease,
Soothde with deceits, and fed with flatteries,
Thy selfe displeasing, other sought to please,
Obeyd as much as hee shall tyrannize,
The least in safety being most at ease,
Feare forcing friends, inforcing enemies:
And when hee fitteth in his greatst estate,
His foot-stoole danger, and his chaire is hate.

Raigne he alone, whilst he no King, was one
Disarmde of power, and heere deiected is,
By whose deposing he enioyes a throne,
Nor should I suffer that, nor he doe this,
I must confesse th'inheritance his owne,
But whilst I liue it should be none of his,
The sonne climes vp to thrust the father downe,
And thus the crowned left without a Crowne.

Hauing performd this hard constrained part,
His speech, his raigne, the day all ioyntly ended,
Strangely transformd, not being what thou art,
Carde for of none, vnlookt on, vnattended,
Sadly departing with a heauy heart,
To his strong lodging straightly recommended,
Left to bemoane his miserable plight,
To the rude walls, and solitarie night.

Whilst things are thus disastrously decreed,
Seditious libels euery day are spred,
By such as like not of their violent deede,
That he by force should be deliuered,
Whether his wrong remorce in some did breede,
That him at last vntimely pittied,
Or else deuisde in pollicie by some,
To cloake that mischiefe afterward to come.

And hate that each where hearkning stil doth lurke,
And yet suspitions Edward is not sure,
Thinking what blood with Leicester might wurke,
Or else, what friends his name might him procure,
Which yet their thoughts continually doth yrke
The time he should at Kenelworth endure:
Fore thinke some place t'which secretly conuaide,
Vnknowne his being, be securde from aide.

And though the great to hide their close intent,
(Seeme ne're so cleare from knowing those know ill)
Not vnprouided of the instrument,
Which they keepe ready to performe their will,
Such haue th'in store to their damnation bent,
In villanie notorious for their skill,
Dishonest, desperate, mercilesse, and rude,
To all vile actions ready to intrude.

Matreuers and base Gurney are the men
In this lewd act that must confedered be,
Whose hatefull names pollute our maiden pen,
But I intreate you, be not grieu'd with mee
To whome the same doe worthily pertaine,
Some bought grow crooked from the streightest tree:
Nor shall you be partakers of their shame,
The fault lies in their deede, not in your name.

These secretly to Killingworth dispatcht,
Fitted of all things that their hearts desire,
At such a time as few their purpose watcht,
After whose busnes none is to enquire,
Which by their warrant subtilly was matcht,
Onely to them knowne whither to retire:
Taking the King, his guardian to acquit,
And to bestow him where they thought most fit.

With a crew of ribalds, villainous, and nought,
As their coagents in this hatefull thing,
To th'earle of Leister their commission brought,
Commaunding the deliu'ry of the King
which (with much griefe) they lastly frō him wrought,
About the Castell closely houering,
watching a time till silence, and the night,
Might with conuenience priuiledge their flight.

With shamefull scoffes, and barbarous disgrace,
Him on a leane ill fauord jade they set,
In a vile garment, beggarly, and base,
Which, it should seeme, they purposely did get,
And in a wretched miserable case,
B…numd and beaten with the colde, and wet,
Depriu'd of all repose and naturall rest,
with thirst and hunger grieuously opprest.

Yet still suspitious that he should be knowne,
They shaue away his ornament of haire,
The last thing his that he could call his owne,
Neuer left Fortune any wight so bare;
Such tyranny on king was neuer showne,
Thus voide of comfort, were he voide of care:
No, no, our ioyes are shadowes, and deceiue vs,
But till our death our sorrowes neuer leaue vs.

To which intent, when farthest from resort,
Forcing him light from his poore wearie beast,
Vpon a mole-hill (O most sad report)
With puddle-water him they lewdly drest,
Whilst at his woes and miseries they sport,
An yron skull the Bason, like the rest,
VVhose lothing eyes in this more lothed glasse,
Well may discerne how much deformd he was.

Th'abundant drops that from his eyes do fall,
A poole of teares still rising by this raine,
VVhich wrastling with the water, and withall,
A troubled circle makes it to retaine,
His endlesse griefes vnto his minde might call,
Billowde with sighes like to a little maine,
water with teares contending whether should
Make water warme, or make the warme tears cold.

Vile traitors, hold off your vnhalowed hands,
His brow the state of maiestie still beares,
Dare you thus keepe your soueraigne Lord in bands,
How can your eyes behold th'annointeds teares?
Or if your sight thus all remorce with-stands,
Are not your harts euen pierced through your eares?
The minde is free, what ere afflict the man,
Hee's yet a King, do Fortune what she can.

Who's he should take what God himselfe hath giuen,
Or spill that life his holy spirit infused,
All powers be subiect to the power of heauen,
Wrongs passe not vnreueng'd how ere excused,
If of all sense griefe hath thee not bereauen,
Rise maiestie when thou art thus abused,
O whither shall authoritie betake,
When in this sort it doth it selfe forsake.

And in despight and mockery of a Crowne,
A wreathe of grasse they for his temples make,
Which when he felt, as comming from a swoune,
And that his powers a little gan awake,
Fortune (quoth he) thou doost not alwaies frowne,
I see thou giu'st aswell as thou doost take,
That wanting naturall couert for, my braine,
For that defect, thou lend'st me this againe.

To whom, O heauen, should I my griefes complaine
Since thou art iust and prouident in all?
How should this body naturall strength retaine,
To suffer things so much innaturall?
My cogitations labour but in vaine,
Except thou be partaker in my fall;
And when at once so many mischiefes meete,
By change of sorrow mak'st my torment sweete.

Wherefore my fate I should but fondly grutch,
Tis vaine contention when with heauen we striue,
Which preordaines my miseries for such,
That by one woe another should suruiue,
To shew how it mortalitie can tutch,
My wretchednesse so strangely to contriue,
That all my comfort in mishaps should rest,
And else in nothing but misfortune blest.

To Berckley thus they led this wretched King,
The place of horror that was long fore-thought,
What power should suffer so defilde a thing,
Or can behold this murther to be wrought,
That might the Nation into question bring,
But that your waies with iudgement still are fraught;
Thus art thou hap'd into thy earthly hell,
Now take thy leaue, and bid the world farewell.

Berekley, whose faire seate hath beene famous long,
Let thy faire buildings shreeke a deadly sound,
And to the ayre complaine thy greeuous wrong,
Keeping the figure of King Edwards wound,
That as thou waxest old, their shame still yong,
Their wretched foote-steps printed on the ground,
That when report shall lend their vile act breath,
All tongues may adde damnation to their death.

The omenous Rauen with a dismall cheere,
Through his hoarse beake, of following horror tells,
Begetting strange imaginarie feare,
With heauie ecchoes like to passing-bells;
The howling dogge a dolefull part doth beare,
As though they chimde his latest burying knells,
Vnder his caue the buzzing shreech-owle sings,
Beating his windowes with her fatall wings.

And still affrighted in his fearefull dreames,
With raging fiends and goblins that he meetes,
Of falling downe from steepe Rockes into streames,
Of toombes, of burialls, and of winding-sheetes,
Of wandring helpelesse in far forraigne Realmes,
Of strong temptations by seducing sprites,
Wherewith awakde, and calling out for aide,
His hollow voyce doth make himselfe afraide.

Next comes the vision of his bloody raine,
Masking along with Lancasters sterne ghost,
Of Barrons twenty eight or hangd, or slaine,
Attended with the ruefull mangled host,
That vnreuengde yet all this while remaine,
At Borough battell, and at Burton lost,
Threatning with frownes, and trembling eu'ry lim,
As though in peeces they would torture him.

And if it chance that from the troubled skies,
The least small starre through any chincke giue light,
Straitwaies on heapes the thronging cloudes arise,
As though the heauen were angry with the night,
That it should lend that comfort to his eies,
Deformed shadowes, glimpsing in his sight
As darkenes, for it would more darkened be,
Through those poore crannies for…de it selfe to see.

When all th'affliction that they could impose,
Euen to the full, and vtmost of their hate,
Aboue his torment yet his strength arose,
As Nature made a couenant with Fate,
When now his watchfull and two wary foes,
That cease not still his woes to aggrauate,
All further helps suspected to preuent,
To take his life to Berckley closely sent.

And subtilly a letter fashioning,
Which in the wordes a double sence doth beare,
Which seemes to bid them, not to touch the King,
Shewing withall how, vile a thing it were,
But by false poynting, is another thing,
And to dispatch him, bids them not to feare,
which taught to find, these murderers need no more,
For which they stood too ready long before.

Whereas he haps a Chronicle to find
Of former kings, their raignes, their deaths, and deedes,
which some their lodgde forgotten had behind,
On which to passe the houres he falls to reede,
Thinking thereby to recreate his mind,
But in his breast this greater woe doth breede,
For when deepe sorrow on the fancie seaseth,
What ere we see, our misery increaseth.

First of great William, Conquerour of this Ile,
(From whom hee's tenth that in succession lies)
Whose power inforcde the Saxon to exile,
Planting new lawes, and forraine subtilties,
Force and subiection, so to reconcile
The punishment of Harolds tyrannies,
which he applies with arguments so strong,
To the due course of his iust punisht wrong.

Rufus his sonne, duke Robert farre abroade,
Receiues the rule in weake infeebled state,
His fathers steps that euidently troade,
Depressing those who had beene conquerd late,
Wishing release of this their gricuous loade,
Vnder the guidance of their former fate,
The place for men that did to beasts intend,
A bestiall life had last a beastly end.

Henry the yongst, his brother William dead,
Taketh the Crowne from his vsurpfull hand,
Due to the eldest good duke Roberts head,
Bearing our Red Crosse in the Holy Land,
whose force farre off so much diminished,
That his returne disabled to withstand,
when those for whom th'unnaturall war was done,
The sea deuours, he left without a sonne.

To Mawd the Empresse he the Scepter leaues,
His onely daughter, which by false pretext
Stephen Earle of Bolloine forcibly bereaues,
Henries false nephew in succession next,
By which the Land a stranger warre receaues,
wherewith it grew so miserably vext:
Till Stephen failing, and his issue reft,
T'the heires of Mawd the regall Scepter left.

The second Henry, Mawd the Empresse sonne,
Of th'English line Plantagenet the first,
By Stephens death a glorious raigne begunne,
whose youth prolongd to make his age accurst,
By his sonne Henries coronation,
Which to his dayes much woe and sorrow nurst,
when those for whom he conquerd, to make great,
Abroad his townes, at home vsurpde his seate.

Richard his sonne that after him succeedes,
Who not content with what was safely ours,
A man lift vp to great and glorious deedes,
Into the East transportes our valiant powres,
Where with his sworde whilst many a Pagan bleedes,
Relentlesse Fate hastes on vntimely howres,
And makes a period to this hopefull story,
Euen in the spring and blossome of his glory.

When him succeedes his faithlesse brother Iohn,
Murthring yong Arthur by oppressefull might,
Climing by sorce to his vsurped throne,
Iustly with poyson was repayde his spight,
His life to all men is so hatefull growne,
Who grieues his wrongs that ne're did any right?
That on the Cleargie ryrannously fed,
Was by the Cleargie iustly punished.

Henry his sonne now crowned very yong,
Who for the hate they to his father bare,
His state of raigning stoode in question long,
Or to be left vnto a strangers care;
With whom the Barrons, insolent and strong,
For the old Charter in commotion are,
Which his long raine so carefully attends
Granting, his daies in peace securely ends.

From him proceedes a Prince, iust, wise, and sage,
(In all things happy but in him his sonne)
For whom euen nature did herselfe engage,
More then in man, in this Prince to haue done,
Whose happy raigne, recur'd the former rage,
By the large bounds he to his Empire wonne,
As the first Edward had the second beene,
O what a flow of glory had we seene!

Turning the leafe as finding vnawares,
What day yong Edward Prince of Wales was borne,
Which letters seeme like Magique Characters,
Or to despight him they were made in scorne,
Marking the paper like dis-figuring stars,
O let that name (quoth he) from bookes be torne,
Lest in that place the sad displeased earth,
Doe loath it selfe as slaundered with my birth.

From thence heereafter humane birth exil'd,
By th'earth deuour'd, or swallowed by the sea,
And fame enquiring for that lucklesse child,
Say twas abortiue, or else stolne away;
And lest, O Time, thou be therewith defil'd,
In thy vnnumbred course deuoure that day;
Let all be done that power can bring to passe,
Onely forget that such there euer was.

The troubled teares now standing in his eyes,
Through which as glasses he is forc'd to looke,
Make letters seeme as rondlets that arise,
By a stone cast into a standing brooke,
Appearing to him in such various wise,
And at one time such sundry fashions tooke,
Which like deluding monsters do affright,
And with their fowle shapes terrifie his sight.

When on his saint bed falling downe at last,
His troubled spirit fore-telling danger nie,
When (forth) the doores a fearefull howling cast,
To let those in by whom a King should die;
Whereat he starts, amaz…d and agast,
These ruthlesse villaines all vpon him flie,
Sweete Prince, alas in vaine thou call'st for aide,
By these accursed homicides betraide.

O be not authors of so vile an act,
My blood on your posteritie to bring,
Which after times with horror shall distract,
When Fame euen hoarce with age your shame shall ring,
And by recounting of so vile a fact,
Mortalitie so much astonishing,
That they shal count their wickednesse scarce sinne,
To that which long before their time hath bin.

And if your hate be deadly, let me liue,
For that aduantage angry heauen hath left,
That except life, takes all that it could giue,
But for iust vengeance should not quite bereft;
Me yet with greater misery to grieue,
Reserue a while this remnant of their theft,
That that which spent frō th'rest should interdict me,
Alone remaining, doth withall afflict me.

Thus spake this wofull and distressed Lord,
As yet his breath found passage to and fro,
With many a short pant, many a broken word,
Many a sore grone, many a grieuous throw,
whilst yet his spirit could any strength affoord,
Though with much paine disburdning of his woe,
Till lastly gasping by their maist…ring strength,
His kingly heart subiects it selfe at length.

When twixt two beds they close his wearied corse,
Basely vncou'ring of his secret part,
Without all humane pittie and remorce,
With burning yron thrust him to the hart,
O that my Muse had but sufficient force,
T'explaine the torment in the which thou art,
Which whilst with words we coldy do expresse,
Thy paine made greater that we make it lesse.

When those in dead and depth of all the night,
Good simple people that are dwelling neare,
From quiet sleepe whom care did now affright,
That his last shreeke and wofull cry do heare,
Euen pittying that miserable wight,
As twixt compassion, and obedient feare,
Lift their sad eyes with heauy sleepe opprest,
Praying to heauen to giue the soule good rest.

Still let the buildings sigh his bitter grones,
And euermore his sad complaints repeate,
And let the dull walls and the sencelesse stones,
By the impression of his torment, sweate,
As wanting sounds wherewith to shew his mones,
With all sharpe paine and agony repleate,
That all may thether come that shall be told it,
As in a mirror cleerely to behold it.

When now the Genius of this wofull place,
Beeing the guide to his affrightfull ghost,
With haire dis…eued, and a gastly face,
Shall haunt the prison where his life was lost;
And as the denne of horror and disgrace,
Let it be fearefull vnto all the coast,
That those heereafter that do trauell neere,
Neuer behold it but with heauy cheere.