Chapter XI: Part III (8)

This prince whose peere was neuer vnder sunne,
Whose glistening fame the earth did ouerglyde,
Which with his power welny the world had wonne,
His bloudy handes himselfe could not abyde,
But fully[1593] bent with famine to haue dyed,
The worthy prince deemed in his regarde,
That death for death could bee but iust rewarde.

25.

Yet wee, that were so drowned in the depth
Of deepe desire, to drinke the guiltlesse bloud,
Like to the wolfe, with greedy lookes that lepth
Into the snare, to feede on deadly foode,
So wee delighted in the state wee stoode,
Blinded so far in all our blinded trayne,
That blinde wee sawe not our destruction playne.

26.

Wee spared none whose life could ought forlet
Our wicked purpose to his passe to come:
Fowre worthy knights wee headed at _Pomfret_
Guiltlesse, God wote, withouten law or dome:
My heart euen bleedes to tell you all and some,
And how lord _Hastings_, when hee feared least,
Dispiteously was murdred and opprest.

27.

These rockes vpraught, that threatned most our wrecke,
Wee seemde to saile much surer in the streame:
And fortune faring as shee were at becke
Layde in our lap the rule of all the realme:
The nephues strait deposde were by the eame:
And wee aduaunst to that wee bought full deare,
Hee crowned king, and I his chiefest peare.

28.

Thus hauing wonne our long desired pray,
To make him king that hee might make mee chiefe,
Downe throwe wee straith his seely nephues tway,
From princes pompe, to woefull prisoners life:
In hope that nowe stint was all furder strife:
Sith hee was king, and I chiefe stroke did beare,
Who ioyed but wee, yet who more cause to feare?

29.

The guiltles bloud which wee vniustly shed,
The royall babes deuested from theyr throne,
And wee like traytours raigning in theyr sted,
These heauy burdens passed[1594] vs vpon,
Tormenting vs so by our selues alone,
Much like the felon that pursude by night,
Starts at ech bush, as his foe were in sight.

30.

Now doubting state, now dreading losse of life,
In feare of wracke at euery blast of winde,
Now start in dreames through dread of murdrer’s[1595] knife,
As though euen then reuengement were assynde:
With restles thought so is the guilty minde
Turmoyld, and neuer feeleth ease or stay,
But liues in feare of that which followes aye.

31.

Well gaue that judge his dome vpon the death
Of _Titus Clelius_[1596] that in bed was slayne:
Whan euery wight the cruell murder layeth
To his two sonnes that in his chamber layen,
The judge, that by the proofe perceiueth playne,
That they were found fast sleeping in theyr bed,
Hath deemde them guiltles of this bloud yshed.

32.

Hee thought it could not bee, that they which brake
The lawes of God and man in such outrage,
Could so forthwith themselues to sleepe betake:
He rather thought the horrour, and the rage
Of such an heynous guilt, could neuer swage,
Nor neuer suffer them to sleepe, or rest,
Or dreadles breath one breth out of theyr brest.

33.

So gnawes the griefe of conscience euermore,
And in the heart it is so deepe ygraue,[1597]
That they may neyther sleepe nor rest therefore,
Ne thinke one thought but on the dread they haue:
Still to the death foretossed with the waue
Of restles woe, in terrour and despeyre,
They leade a life continually in feare.

34.

Like to the dere that stricken with the dart,
Withdrawes himselfe into some secret place,
And feeling greene the wound about his hart,
Startles[1598] with pangs tyll hee fall on the grasse,
And, in great feare, lies gasping there a space,
Forth braying sighes, as though ech pang had brought
The present death, which hee doth dread so oft:

35.

So wee, deepe wounded with the bloudy thought,
And gnawing worme that greu’d[1599] our conscience so,
Neuer tooke ease, but as our heart out brought[1600]
The strayned[1601] sighes in witnes of our woe,
Such restles cares our fault did well beknowe:
Wherewith, of our deserued fall, the feares
In euery place rang death within our eares.

36.

And as ill grayne is neuer well ykept,
So fared it by vs within a while:
That which so long with such vnrest wee reapt,
In dread and daunger by all wit and wile,
Loe, see the fine, when once it felt the whele
Of slipper fortune, stay it mought no stowne,
The wheele whurles vp, but strayt it whurleth downe.

37.

For hauing rule and riches in our hand,
Who durst gaynesay the thing that wee averd?
Will was wisedome, our lust for law did stand,
In sort so straunge, that who was not afeard,
When hee the sounde but of king _Richard_ heard?
So hatefull waxt the hearing of his name,
That you may deeme the residue of[1602] the same.

38.

But what auaylde the terrour and the feare,
Wherwith he kept his lieges vnder awe?
It rather wan him hatred euery where,
And fayned faces forc’d by feare of lawe:
That but, while fortune doth with fauour blawe,
Flatter through feare: for in theyr heart lurkes aye
A secret hate that hopeth for a daye.

39.

Recordeth _Dionisius_ the king
That with his rigour so his realme opprest,
As that hee thought by cruell feare to bring
His subiects vnder, as him liked best:
But, loe, the dread wherewith him selfe was strest,
And you shall see the fine of forced feare,
Most miroir like, in this prowd prince appeare.

40.

All were his head with crowne of gold ysprad,
And in his hand the royall scepter set:
And hee with princely purple richly clad,
Yet was his heart with wretched cares orefret:
And inwardly with deadly feare beset,
Of those whom hee by rigour kept in awe,
And sore opprest with might of tyraunt’s lawe.

41.

Agaynst whose feare no heapes of gold and glie,
No strength of gard, nor all his hyred powre,
Ne prowde high towres, that preaced to the skie,
His cruell heart of safty could assure:
But dreading them whom hee should deeme most sure,
Him selfe his beard with burning brand would ceare,
Of death deseru’d so vexed him the feare.

42.

This might suffice to represent the fine
Of tyraunt’s force, theyr feares, and theyr vnrest:
But heare this one, although my heart repine
To let the sounde once sinke within my brest:
Of fell _Phereus_, that, aboue the rest,
Such lothsome cruelty on his people wrought,
As, oh, alas, I tremble with the thought.

43.

Some hee encased in the coates of beares,
Among wilde beastes deuoured so to bee:
And some, for pray vnto the hunter’s speares,
Like sauage beasts withouten ruth to dye:
Sometime, to encrease[1603] his horrible cruelty,
The quicke with face to face engraued hee,
Ech other’s death that ech mought liuing see.

44.

Loe, what more cruell horrour mought bee founde
To purchase feare, if feare could stay his raigne?
It booted not, it rather strake the wounde
Of feare in him, to feare the like agayne:
And so he did full oft, and not in vayne,
As in his life his cares could witnesse well,
But most of all his wretched end doth tell.

45.

His owne deare wife, whom as his life hee loued,
Hee durst not trust, nor proche vnto her bed,
But causing first his slaue with naked sworde
To goe before, himselfe with trembling dread,
Strayt foloweth fast, and whurling in his head
His rolling eyne, he searched[1604] heare and there
The deepe daunger that hee so sore did feare.

46.

For not in vayne it ran still in his brest,
Some wretched hap should hale him to his end,
And therefore alway by his pillow prest
Had hee a sworde, and with that sworde he wende,
In vayne, God wot, all perils to defende:
For, loe, his wife, foreyrking[1605] of his raigne,
Sleping in bed this cruell wretch hath slaine.

47.

What should I more now seeke to say in this,
Or one iote farder linger forth my tale?
With cruell _Nero_, or with _Phalaris_,
_Caligula_, _Domitian_, and all
The cruell rout? or of theyr wretched fall?
I can no more, but in my name aduert
All earthly powres beware of tyraunt’s hart.

48.

And as our state endured but a throwe,
So, best in vs, the stay of such a state
May best appeare to hang on ouerthrowe,
And better teach tyraunts deserued hate,
Then any tyraunt’s death tofore or late:
So cruell seemde this _Richard_ third to mee,
That, loe, my selfe now loathde[1606] his cruelty.

49.

For when, alas, I saw the tyraunt king
Content not only from his nephues twayne
To riue world’s blisse, but also all world’s being,
Sauns earthly gylt ycausing both be slayne,
My heart agrisde[1607] that such a wretch should raigne,
Whose bloudy brest so saluagde[1608] out of kinde,
That _Phalaris_ had nere[1609] so bloudy[1610] a minde.

50.

Ne[1611] could I brooke him once within my brest,
But with the thought my teeth would gnash withall:
For though I erst were his by sworne behest,
Yet when I saw mischiefe on mischiefe fall,
So deepe in bloud, to murder prince and all,
Ay then, thought I, alas, and welaway,[1612]
And to my selfe thus mourning would I say:

51.

If neyther loue, kinred, ne[1613] knot of bloud,
His owne allegaunce to his prince of due,
Nor yet the state of trust, wherein hee stoode,
The world’s defame, nor nought could forme[1614] him true,
Those gyltles babes, could they not make him rue?
Nor could theyr youth, nor innocence withall
Moue him from reauing them, theyr life, and all?

52.

Alas, it could not moue him any iote,
Ne[1615] make him once to rue, or wet his eye,
Stird him no more then that that stirreth not:
But as the rocke, or stone, that will not plye,
So was his heart made hard with[1616] cruelty,
To murder them: alas, I weepe in thought,
To thinke on that which this fell wretch hath wrought.

53.

That now, when hee had done the thing hee sought,
And as he would, complisht and compast all,
And saw and knew the treason hee had wrought
To God and man, to slay his prince and all,
Then seemde hee first to doubt and drede vs all,
And mee in chiefe, whose death all meanes hee might,
He sought to worke by malice and by might.

54.

Such heapes of harms vpharbard in his brest,
With enuious hart my honour to deface,
And knowing hee, that I, which wotted best
His wretched dryfts, and all his wretched case,[1617]
If euer sprang within mee sparke of grace,
Must nedes abhorre him and his hatefull race:
Now more and more can cast mee out of grace.

55.

Which sodayne chaunge, when I, by secret chaunce
Had well perceiude, by proofe of enuious frowne,
And saw the lot that did mee to aduaunce
Him to a king, that sought to cast mee downe,
To late it was to linger any stowne,
Sith present choise lay cast before myne eye:
To worke his death, or, I my selfe to dye.

56.

And as the knight in field among his foes,
Beset with swords, must slay or there bee slayne:
So I, alas, lapt in a thousand woes,
Beholding death on euery syde so playne,
I rather chose by some sly secret trayne
To worke his death, and I to liue therby,
Then hee to liue, and I of force to dye.

57.

Which heauy choyse so hastened mee to chose,
That I in part agrieude at his disdayne,
In part to wreake the dolefull death of those
Two tender babes, his sely[1618] nephewes twayne,
By him, alas, commaunded to be slayne,
With paynted chere humbly before his face,
Strayght tooke my leaue, and roade to _Brecknocke_ place.

58.

And there as close and couert as I might,
My purposde practise to his passe to bring,
In secret drifts I lingrede day and night,
All how I might depose this cruell king,
That seemde to all so much desyrde a thing,
As therto trusting I emprisde the same:
But to much trusting brought mee to my bane.

59.

For while I now had fortune at my becke,
Mistrusting I no earthly thing at all,
Unwares, alas, least looking for a checke,
Shee mated mee in tourning of a ball:
When least I fearde, then nerest was my fall,
And when whole hoasts were prest to stroy my foen,
Shee chaungde her cheare, and left mee post alone.

60.

I had vpraysde a mighty band of men,
And marched forth in order of array,
Leading my power amid the forest _Dene_,
Agaynst the[1619] tyrant banner to display:
But, loe, my souldiers cowardly[1620] shranke away:
For such is fortune when shee list to frowne,
Who seemes most sure, him soonest whurls shee downe.

61.

O, let no prince, put trust in commontie,
Nor hope in fayth of giddy people’s mynde,
But let all noble men take heede by mee,
That by the proofe to well the payne do fynde:
Loe, where is truth or trust? or what could bynde
The vayne people, but they will swerue and swaye,
As chaunce brings chaunge, to driue and draw that way.

62.

_Rome_, thou that once aduaunced vp so hye,
Thy stay, patron, and flowre of excellence,
Hast now throwne him to depth of miserie,
Exiled him that was thy whole defence,
Ne comptest[1621] it not an horrible offence,
To reuen him of honour and of fame,
That wan it thee when thou hadst lost the same.

63.

Behold _Camillus_, hee that first reuiued
The state of _Rome_, that dying hee did fynde,
Of his owne state is now, alas, depriued,
Banisht by them whom hee did thus det-bynde:
That cruell folke, vnthankfull and vnkinde,
Declared well their false vnconstancie,[1622]
And fortune eke her mutabilitie.

64.

And thou _Scipio_, a miroir mayst thou bee
To all nobles, that they learne not to late,
How they once trust th’vnstable[1623] commontie:
Thou that recuredst[1624] the torne dismembred state,
Euen when the conquerour was at the gate,
Art now exilde, as though thou not deserued
To rest in her, whom thou hadst so preserued.

65.

Ingratfull _Rome_, hast shewde thy crueltie
On him, by whom thou lyuest yet in fame,
But not thy deede, nor his desert shall die,
But his owne words shall witnes ay the same:
For, loe, his graue doth thee most iustly blame,
And with disdayne in marble sayes to thee:
Vnkind countrey, my bones shalt thou not see.

66.

What more vnworthy then this his exile?
More iust then this the wofull playnt hee wrote?
Or who could shew a playner proofe the while,
Of most false fayth, then they that thus forgot
His great deserts? that so deserued not:
His cindres yet, loe, doth hee them deny
That him denyde amongst them for to dye.

67.

_Milciades_, O happy hadst thou bee,[1625]
And well rewarded of thy countrey men,
If in the fielde when thou hadst forst to flye,
By thy prowes, three hundred thousand men,
Content they had beene to exile thee then:
And not to cast thee in depth of prison, so
Laden with gyues, to end thy life in woe.

68.

Alas, how hard and steely hearts had they,
That, not contented there to haue thee dye,
With fettred gyues in prison where thou lay,
Increast so farre in hatefull crueltye,
That buriall to thy corps, they eke denye:
Ne wil they graunt the same till thy sonne haue
Put on thy gyues, to purchase thee a graue.

69.

Loe, _Hanniball_, as long as fixed fate,
And brittle fortune had ordayned so,
Who, euermore, aduaunst his country state
Then thou, that liu’dst[1626] for her and for no moe?
But when the stormy waues began to growe,
Without respect of thy deserts erewhile,
Art by thy[1627] countrey throwne into exile.

70.

Unfrendly fortune, shall I thee now blame?
Or shall I fault the fates that so ordayne?
Or art thou Ioue the causer of the same?
Or cruelty her selfe, doth shee constrayne?
Or on whom els, alas, shall I complayne?
O trustlesse world, I can accusen none,
But fickle fayth of commontie alone.

71.

The Polipus nor the Chameleon straunge,
That tourne themselues to euery hewe they see,
Are not so full of vayne and fickle chaunge,
As is this false vnstedfast commontye:
Loe, I, alas, with myne aduersitye
Haue tryde it true, for they are fled and gone,
And of an hoast there is not left mee one.

72.

That I, alas, in this calamitie
Alone was left, and to my selfe mought[1628] playne
This treason, and this wretched cowardye,
And eake with tears beweepen and complayne
My hatefull hap, still loking to bee slayne:
Wandring in woe, and to the gods[1629] on hye
Cleaping for vengeaunce of this treacherye.

73.

And as the turtle that hath lost her make,[1630]
Whom griping sorrowe doth so sore attaint,
With dolefull voice and sound that[1631] shee doth make,
Mourning her losse, fills all the groue with plaint:
So I, alas, forsaken, and forfaynt,
With restlesse foote the wood rome vp and downe,
Which of my dole all shiuering doth resowne.

74.

And being thus, alone, and all forsake,
Amid the thicke, forwandred in despayre,
As one dismayde, ne wist what way to take,
Untill at last gan to my mynd repayre,
A man of myne, calde _Humfrey Banastaire_:
Wherwith mee feeling much recomforted,
In hope of succour, to his house I fled.

75.

Who being one whom erst I had vp brought
Euen from his youth, and lou’d[1632] and liked best,
To gentry state auaunciug him from nought,
And had in secret trust, aboue the rest
Of speciall trust, now, being thus distrest,
Full secretly to him I mee conueyde,
Not doubting there but I should fynd some ayde.

76.

But out, alas, on cruell trecherie,
When that this caytife once an inkling hard,
How that king _Richard_ had proclaimde, that hee
Which mee descryde should haue for his rewarde
A thousand pounds, and farther bee prefarde,
His truth so turnde to treason, all distaynde,
That fayth quite fled, and I by trust was traynde.

77.

For by this wretch I being straite betrayed
To one _Ihon Mitton_, shiriffe of _Shropshire_ then,
All sodaynly was taken, and conuayed
To _Salisburie_, with rout of harnest men,
Unto king _Richard_ there, encamped then
Fast by the cittie with a mighty host:
Withouten dome where head and life I lost.

78.

And with these wordes, as if the axe euen there
Dismembred had his head and corps aparte,
Dead fell hee downe: and wee in woefull feare
Stoode mazed when hee would to lyfe reuert:
But deadly griefs still grew about his hart,
That still hee lay, sometime reuiude with payne,
And with a sigh becomming dead agayne.

79.

Midnight was come, when euery[1633] vitall thing
With sweete sound sleepe, their weary lyms did rest,
The beasts were still, the little byrds that sing,
Now sweetely slept, besides their mother’s brest,
The olde and all were shrowded in their nest:
The waters calme, the cruell seas did cease,
The woods, the fieldes, and all thinges held their peace.

80.

The golden stars were whyrld amyd their race,
And on the earth did laugh with twinkling light,
When each thing nestled in his resting place,
Forgat daye’s payne with pleasure of the night:
The hare had not the greedy hounds in sight,
The fearefull dere of death stoode not in doubt,
The partridge drept not of the falcon’s foote.

81.

The ougly beare now minded not the stake,
Nor how the cruell mastiues doe him teare,
The stag lay still vnroused from the brake,
The fomy boare fearde not the hunter’s speare:
All thing was still in desert, bush, and breare:
With quiet heart now from their trauayles ceast,
Soundly they slept in midst of all their rest.

82.

When _Buckingham_, amid his playnt opprest,
With surging sorrowes and with pinching paynes
In sort thus sowned,[1634] and with a sigh, hee ceast
To tellen forth the trechery and the traynes
Of _Banastaire_: which him so sore distraynes,
That from a sigh hee falls into a sounde,
And from a sound ly’th[1635] raging on the ground.

83.

So twiching were the pangs that hee assayed,
And hee so sore with ruthfull[1636] rage distraught,
To thinke vppon the wretch that him betrayed,
Whom erst hee made a gentleman of naught,
That more and more agreued with this[1637] thought,
Hee stormes out sighes, and with redoubled sore,
Stroke with the furies, rageth more and more.

84.

Who so hath seene the bull chased with darts,
And with deepe wounds foregalde and gored so,
Tyll hee, oppressed with the deadly smarts,
Fall in a rage, and run vpon his foe,
Let him, I say, behold the raging woe
Of _Buckingham_, that in these gripes of griefe,
Rageth gaynst him that hath betrayde his lyfe.

85.

With bloud red iyen hee stareth here and there,
Frothing at mouth, with face as pale as cloute:
When, loe, my lyms were trembling all for feare,
And I amazde stoode still in dread and doubt,
While I mought see him throwe his arms about:
And gaynst the ground him selfe plunge with such force,
As if the life forthwith should leaue the corps.

86.

With smoke of sighs sometyme I might beholde,
The place all dimde, like to the morning mist:
And strait agayne the teares how they downrold
Alongst his cheekes, as if the riuers hyst:
Whose flowing streames ne where no soner whist,
But to the stars such dreadfull shouts hee sent,
As if the throne of mighty Ioue should rent.

87.

And I the while with sprits[1638] welny bereft,
Beheld the plight and pangs that did him strayne,
And how the bloud his deadly colour left,
And straight retournde with flaming red againe:
When sodaynly amid his raging payne
Hee gaue a sigh, and with that sigh hee sayed:
“Oh _Banastaire_:” and strait agayne hee stayed.

88.

Dead lay his corps, as dead as any stone,
Till swelling sighes storming within his brest,
Upraysde his head, that downeward fell anone,
With lookes vpcast, and sighes that neuer ceast:
Forth stremde the teares records of his vnrest,
When hee with shrikes thus groveling on the ground,
Ybrayed these words with shrill and dolefull sounde.

89.

“Heauen and earth, and ye eternall lamps
That, in the heauens wrapt, wyll vs to rest,
Thou bright _Phœbe_, that clearest the night’s damps,
Witnes the playnts that in these pangs opprest,
I, wofull wretch, vnlade out of my brest,
And let mee yeelde my last words, ere I parte,
You, you, I call to record of my smarte.

90.

And thou, _Alecto_, feede mee with thy foode,
Let fall thy serpents from thy snaky heare,
For such releife well fits mee in this moode,
To feede my playnt with horrour and with feare,
While rage afresh thy venomde worme areare:
And thou _Sibilla_, when thou seest mee faynte,
Addresse thy selfe the guide of my complaynt.

91.

And thou, O Ioue, that with the[1639] deepe fordoome
Dost rule the earth, and raygne aboue the skies,
That wreakest wrongs, and geu’st[1640] the dreadfull doome
Agaynst the wretch that doth thy name despise,[1641]
Receiue these words, and wreake them in such wise,
As heauen and earth may wytnesse and beholde,
Thy heapes of wrath vpon this wretch vnfolde.

92.

Thou _Banastaire_, gainst thee I clepe and call
Unto the gods, that they iust vengeaunce take
On thee, thy bloud, thy stayned stocke and all:
O Ioue, to thee aboue the rest I make
My humble playnt, guide mee, that what I speake,
May be thy will vpon this wretch to fall,
On thee, _Banastaire_, wretch of wretches all.

93.

O would to God, the[1642] cruell dismall day,
That gaue mee light fyrst to behold thy face,
With foule eclipse had reft my sight away:
Th’vnhappy[1643] hower, the tyme, and eke the place,[1644]
The sunne and moone, the stars, and all that was
In theire aspects helping in ought to thee,
The earth and ayre, and all, accursed bee.

94.

And thou caytyfe, that like a monster swarued
From kinde and kindnes, hast thy maister lorne,
Whom neyther trueth, nor trust wherein thou serued,
Ne his deserts could moue, nor thy fayth sworne,
How shall I curse, but wish that thou vnborne
Had beene, or that the earth had rent in tway,
And swallowed thee in cradle as thou laye.

95.

To this did I, euen from thy tender youth,
Witsaue[1645] to bring thee vp? did I herefore
Beleue the oth of thy vndoubted troth?
Aduaunce thee vp, and trust thee euermore?
By trusting thee that I should dye therefore?
O wretch, and worse then wretch, what shall I say?
But clepe and curse gaynst thee and thine for aye.

96.

Hated be thou, disdaynde of euery wight,
And poynted at where euer that thou goe:
A trayterous wretch, vnworthy of the light
Bee thou esteemde; and to encrease thy woe,
The sounde be hatefull of thy name also:
And in this sort with shame and sharp reproche,
Lead thou thy life, tyll greater griefe approche.

97.

Dole and despayre, let those be thy delight,
Wrapped in woes that cannot bee vnfolde,
To wayle the day, and weepe the weary night,
With rayny eyne and sighes cannot be tolde,
And let no wight thy woe seeke to withholde:
But count thee worthy (wretch) of sorrowe’s store,
That suffering much, oughtst still to suffer more.

98.

Deserue thou death, yea bee thou deemde to dye
A shamefull death, to end thy shamefull life:
A sight longed for, ioyfull to euery eye,
When thou shalt bee arraigned as a theefe,
Standing at bar, and pleading for thy life,
With trembling tongue in dread and dolour’s rage,
Lade with white lockes, and fourscore yeares of age.

99.

Yet shall not death deliuer thee so soone
Out of thy woes, so happy shalt not[1646] bee:
But to th’eternall[1647] Ioue this is my boone,
That thou mayst[1648] liue thine eldest sonne to see
Reft of his wits, and in a foule bore’s stye
To end his dayes, in rage and death distrest,
A worthy tombe where one of thine should rest.

100.

Yet[1649] after this, yet pray I more, thou may
Thy second sonne see drowned in a dyke,
And in such sort to close his later day,
As heard or seene erst hath not been the like:
Ystrangled in a puddle, not halfe[1650] so deepe
As halfe a foote, that such hard losse of life,
So cruelly chaunst, may bee the[1651] greater griefe.

101.

And not yet shall thy hugie[1652] sorrowes ceasse,
Ioue shall not so witholde his wrath, from thee,
But that thy plagues may more and more encrease,
Thou shalt still liue, that thou thy selfe maist see
Thy deare daughter stroken with leprosye:[1653]
That shee, that erst was all thy whole delight,
Thou now mayst loth to haue her come in sight.

102.

And after that, let shame and sorrowes griefe
Feede forth thy yeares continually in woe,
That thou maist lieue in death, and dye in life,
And in this sort forwaylde and weried so,
At last thy ghost to part thy body fro:
This pray I, Ioue, and with this later breath,
Vengaunce I aske vpon my cruell death.”

103.

This sayde, he flong his retchlesse armes abroade,
And, groueling, flat vpon the grounde he laye,
Which with his teeth hee all to gnasht and gnawde,
Deepe groanes hee fet, as hee that would awaye:
But, loe, in vayne hee did the death assay:
Although I thinke was neuer man that knewe
Such deadly paynes, where death did not ensue.

104.

So stroue hee thus a while as with the death,
Now pale as leade, and cold as any stone,
Now still as calme, now storming forth a breath
Of smoky sighes, as breath and all were gone:
But euery thing hath end: so hee anone
Came to himselfe, when, with a sigh outbrayed,
With woefull chere, these woefull words hee sayed:

105.

“Ah, where am I, what thing, or whence is this?
Who reft my wits? or how doe I thus lye?
My lyms do quake, my thought agasted is,
Why sigh I so? or whereunto do I
Thus grovle[1654] on the grounde?” and by and by
Upraysde hee stoode, and with a sigh hath stayde,
When to himselfe retourned thus hee sayde:

106.

“Suffiseth now this playnt and this regrete,
Whereof my heart his bottom hath vnfraught:
And of my death let peeres and princes wete
The world’s vntrust, that they thereby be taught:
And in her wealth, sith that such chaunge is wrought,
Hope not too much, but in the mids of all
Thinke on my death, and what may them befall.

107.

So long as fortune would permit the same,
I liu’d[1655] in rule and ryches with the best:
And past my time in honour and in fame,
That of mishap no feare was in my brest:
But false fortune, whom[1656] I suspected least,
Did tourne the wheele, and with a dolefull fall
Hath mee bereft of honour, life, and all.

108.

Loe, what avayles in riches, flouds that flowes?
Though she so smylde, as all the world were his,
Euen kings and kesars, byden[1657] fortune’s throwes,
And simple sort, must beare it as it is:
Take heede by mee that blithde in balefull blisse,
My rule, my riches, royall bloud and all,
When fortune frounde the feller made my fall.

109.

For hard mishaps, that happens vnto such
Whose wretched state erst neuer fell no chaunge,
Agreeue them not in any part so much
As theyr distresse: to whom it is so straunge
That all theyr liues, nay passed pleasures raunge,
Theyr sodayne woe, that aye wielde welth at will,
Algates theyr hearts more pearcingly must thrill.

110.

For of my byrth, my bloud was of the best,
First borne an earle, then duke by due discent,
To swinge the sway in court among the rest,
Dame fortune mee her rule most largely lent,
And, kinde with courage, so my corps had blent,
That, loe, on whom but mee did shee most smyle?
And whom but mee, loe, did shee most begyle?

111.

Now hast thou heard the whole of my vnhap,[1658]
My chaunce, my chaunge, the cause of all my care:
In welth and woe, how fortune did mee wrap,
With world at will, to win mee to her snare:
Bid kings, bid kesars, bid[1659] all states beware,
And tell them this from me that tryde it true:
Who reckles rules, right soone may hap to rue.”

T. S.[1660]

[“How like you this my maisters?” quoth[1661] I. “Very well,”
sayd one: “the tragedy excelleth: the inuention also of the
induction, and the descriptions are notable. But wheras hee
fayneth to talke with the princes in hell, that I am sure will
bee mislyked, because it is most certayne, that some of theyr
soules be in heauen. And although hee herein doe follow allowed
poets, in their description of hell, yet it sauoureth so much
of purgatory, which the papistes haue digged thereout, that the
ignorant may thereby bee deceiued.” “Not a whit I warrant you,”
sayd I,[1662] “for hee meaneth not by his hell the place eyther
of damned soules, or of such as lye for their fees, but rather
the graue, wherein the dead bodyes of all sorts of people doe
rest till time of the resurrection. And in this sence is hell
taken often in the scriptures, and in the writings of learned
christians. And so, as hee himselfe hath told mee, hee meaneth,
and so would haue it taken.” “Tush,” quoth[1663] another, “what
stand we here vpon? it is a poesy, and no diuinity: and it is
lawfull for poets to faine what they list, so it bee appertinent
to the matter: and therefore let it passe euen in such sort
as you haue read it.” “With a good will,” quoth[1664] I. “But
whereas you say a poet may faine what he list: in deede me
thinke[1665] it should bee so, and ought to be well taken of the
hearers: but it hath not at all times beene so allowed.” “Yee say
troth,” quoth[1666] the reader: “for here followeth in the story,
that after the death of this duke, one called _Collingbourne_ was
cruelly put to death for making of a rime.” “I haue his tragedy
here,” sayd[1667] I. For the better perceiuing whereof, you must
imagine that you see him a maruailous well fauoured man, holding
in his hand his owne heart, newely ripped out of his breast,
and smoaking forth the liuely spirite: and with his hand,[1668]
beckening to and fro, as it were to warne vs to auoide: and with
his faint tongue and voice, saying as couragiously as bee may,
these words that followe.]

How _Collingbourne_ was cruelly executed
for making a foolish ryme.

1.

Beware, take heede, take heede, beware, beware[1669]
You poets, you, that purpose to rehearce
By any art what tyraunt’s doings are:
_Erynnis_ rage is growne so fell and fearce,
That vicious acts may not be toucht in verse:
The muse’s[1670] freedome, graunted them of elde,
Is barde, slye reasons treasons hye are helde.

2.

Be rough in ryme, and then they say you rayle,
As _Iuuenal_ was, but that[1671] makes[1672] no matter:
With _Ieremy_ you shall bee had to iayle,
Or forc’d with _Martial_, _Cæsar’s_ faultes to flatter:
Clarkes must bee taught to claw, and not to clatter:
Free _Helicon_ and franke _Parnassus’_ hylls,
Are helly haunts, and ranke pernicious ylls.

3.

Touch couertly in terms, and then you taunt,
Though praysed poets alway did the like,
Controll vs not, els traytour vile auaunt,
What passe wee what the learned doe mislike?
Our sinnes wee see, wherein to swarme wee seeke:
Wee passe not what the people say or thinke:
Their shittle hate makes[1673] none but cowards shrinke.

4.

Wee knowe, say they, the course of fortune’s wheele,
How constantly it whirleth still about,
Arrearing now, while elder headlong reele,
How all the riders alway hang in doubt:
But what for that? we count him but a loute
That sticks to mount, and basely like a beast
Liues temperatly, for feare of Blockam feast.

5.

In deede wee would of all be deemed gods
What euer[1674] wee do: and therefore partly hate
Rude preachers, that dare threaten [vs] plagues and rods,
And blase the blots whereby wee stayne our state:
But nought wee passe what any such do prate:
Of course and office they must say theyr pleasure,
And we of course must heare and mend at leasure.

6.

But when these pelting poets in theyr rymes
Shall taunt, or iest, or paynt our wicked workes,
And cause the people know and curse our crymes,
This ougly fault no tyraunt liues but vrkes:
Wherefore wee loth such taunters[1675] worse then Turkes,
Whose meaning is to[1676] make vs know our misse,
And so to mend:[1677] but they but doate in this.

7.

Wee know our faults as well as any other,
Wee also doubt the daungers from them due:
Yet still wee trust so right to rule[1678] the rother,
That scape we shall the sourges that ensue:
We thinke we know more[1679] shifts than other knew:
In vayne therefore for vs are counsailes writ:
Wee know our faults, and will not mend a whit.

8.

These are the feats of the vnhappy sort,[1680]
That preace for honours, wealth, and pleasure vayne:
Ceasse therefore, _Baldwine_, ceasse I thee exhort,
Withdrawe thy pen, for nothing shalt thou gayne
Saue hate, with losse of paper, ynke, and payne:
Fewe hate theyr faults, all hate of them to heare,
And faultiest, from fault would seeme most cleare.[1681]

9.

Thy intent[1682] I know is honest,[1683] playne, and good,
To warne the wise, to fray the fond fro[1684] ill,
But wicked worldlings are so witles wood,
That to the worst they althinges construe still:
With rigour oft they recompence good will:
They racke the wordes till time theyr sinowes burst,
In dolefull[1685] sences strayning still the worst.

10.

A paynfull proofe taught mee the truth of this,
Through tyraunt’s rage, and fortune’s cruell tourne:
They murdred mee, for meetring things amisse:
For wotst thou what? I am that _Collingbourne_
Which made the ryme, whereof I may well[1686] mourne:[1687]
“The cat, the rat, and _Louell_ our dog,
Doe rule all _England_, vnder a hog.”

11.

Whereof the meaning was so playne and true,
That euery foole perceiued it at furst:
Most liked it, for most that most things knewe,
In hugger mugger, muttred what they durst:
The tyraunt prince of[1688] most was held accurst,
Both for his owne, and for his counsayl’s faults,[1689]
Of whom were[1690] three, the naughtyest of all naughts.

12.

_Catesby_ was one, whom[1691] I called[1692] a cat,
A crafty lawyer, catching all hee could:
The second _Ratcliffe_, whom I namde a rat,
A cruell beast to gnawe on whom hee should:
Lord _Louell_ barkt and bit whom _Richard_ would,
Whom I therefore did rightly tearme our dog,
Wherewith to ryme I calde the king a hog.

13.

Tyll he the crowne had caught, hee[1693] gaue the bore,
In which estate would God hee had deceased,
Than had the realme not ruined so sore,
His nephue’s raigne should not so soone haue ceased,
The noble bloud had not beene so decreased:
His rat, his cat, and bloudhound had not noyed,
Such liegemen true, as after they destroyed.[1694]

14.

Theyr lawles actes good subiects did[1695] lament.
And so did I, and therefore made the rymes
To shew my wit, how well I could inuent,
To warne withall the carelesse of theyr crymes:
I thought the freedom of the auncient tymes
Stoode still in force: _Ridentem dicere verum_
_Quis vetat?_ nay, nay. _Veritas est pessuma[1696]
rerum._[1697]

15.

Belike no tyraunts were in _Horace’_ dayes,
And therefore poets freely blamed vice,
Witnesse theyr satyrs[1698] sharp, and traguike playes,
With chiefest princes chiefly had in price:
They name no man, they mixe theyr gall with spice,
No more doe I, I name no man outright,
But riddle wise, I meane them as I might.

16.

When bruite had brought this to theyr gylty eares,
Whose right surnames were[1699] noted in the ryme,
They all conspired, like most greedy beares,
To charge me straight with this most greeuous cryme:[1700]
And damned mee the gallow tree to clyme,
And then strangled, in[1701] quarters to bee cut,
Which should on high ouer[1702] _London_ gates be put.

17.

This iudgement giuen so vehement and sore,[1703]
Made me exclame agaynst[1704] theyr tyranny:
Wherewith encenst, to make my payne the more,
They practised a shamefull vilany:
They cut mee downe aliue, and cruelly
Ript vp my paunch and bulke, to make me smart,
And lingred long ere they tooke out my hart.

18.

Here tyraunt _Richard_ playde the eager hog,
His grashing tuskes my tender gristles shore:
His bloodhound _Louell_ playde the hungry dog,[1705]
His woluish teeth my giltles carkasse tore:
His rat, and cat, did what they might, and more
Cat _Catesby_ clawed my guts to make me smart,
The rat _Ratcliffe_[1706] gnawed mee to the hart.

19.

If Iewes had kilde the iustest king aliue,
If Turkes had burnt vp churches, gods, and all,
What greater payne could cruell hearts contriue,
Than that I suffred for this trespasse small?
I was no prince, nor peere, but yet my fall
Is worthy to be thought vpon for this,
To see how cankard tyrant’s malice is.

20.

To teach also all subiects to take heede
They medle not with magistrates affayres,
But pray to God to mend them if it neede:
To warne also all poets that be strayers,
To keepe them close in compasse of theyr chayers,
And when they touch that they would wish[1707] amended,
To sauce them so, that fewe neede bee offended.

21.

And so to mixe theyr sharpe rebukes with mirth,
That they may pearce, not causing any payne,
Saue such as followeth euery kindely byrth,
Requited strayt, with gladnes of the gayne:
A poet must be pleasaunt, not too playne,
Faults to controll, ne yet to flatter vice,[1708]
But sound and sweete, in all things ware and wise.

22.

The Greekes do paynt a poet’s office whole
In _Pegasus_, theyr fayned horse with wings,
Whome shaped so _Medusae’s_ bloud did foale,
Who with his feete strake out the muses’ springs,
Fro[1709] flinty rockes to _Hellicon_ that clings:
And then flewe vp into[1710] the starry skie,
And[1711] there abides among the gods on hye.[1712]

23.

For hee that shall a perfect poet bee,
Must first bee bred out of _Medusae’s_ bloud,
He must be chast and vertuous, as was shee
Who to her powre the Ocean god withstoode:
To th’ende also his doome be iust and good,
Hee must, as shee, looke rightly with one eye
Truth to regarde, and write nothing awrye.[1713]

24.

In courage eke he must be like a horse,
He may not feare to register the right:
What though some frowne? thereof he may not force,[1714]
No bit, nor reyne, his tender iawes may twight:
He must be armde with strength of wit and sprite,
To dash the rocks, darke causes and obscure,
Till hee attayne the springs of truth most pure.

25.

His hooues also must[1715] plyant bee and strong,
To riue the rocks of lust and errours blinde,
In braynlesse heads, that alway wander wrong:
These must hee brise[1716] with reasons playne and kinde,
Till springs of grace doe gush out of the minde:
For till affections from the fond be driuen,
In vayne is truth tolde, or good counsayle giuen.

26.

Like _Pegasus_ a poet must haue wings,
To flye to heauen, or where him liketh best:[1717]
He must haue knowledge of eternall things,
Almighty Ioue must harbour in his brest:
With worldly cares he may not be opprest,
The wings of wit and skill[1718] must heaue him hyer,
With great delight to satisfie desier.[1719]

27.

He must also be lusty,[1720] free, and swift
To trauayle far, to vewe the trades of men,
Great knowledge oft is gotten by this[1721] shift:
Things that import hee[1722] must bee quicke to pen,
Reprouing vices sharply now and then:
He must be swift when touched tyraunts chafe,
To gallop thence, to keepe his carkas safe.

28.

If I had well these qualityes considered,[1723]
Especially that which I touched last,
With speedy flight my feete should haue deliuered
My feeble body from [a] most boystrous blast,[1724]
They should haue caught mee, ere I had be cast:[1725]
But too much trusting to a tyraunt’s[1726] grace,
I neuer shronke, nor chaunged port or place.

29.

I thought the poet’s auncient libertyes
For pleas had beene allowed at the bar:[1727]
I had forgot how newe found tyrannyes
With truth[1728] and freedom were at open war,
That lust was lawe, that might did make and marre,
That among tyraunts this is[1729] and euer was,[1730]
_Sic volo, sic iubeo, stet pro ratione voluntas_.

30.

Where lust is[1731] lawe it booteth not to pleade,
No priuelege nor[1732] libertyes avayle:
But with the learnde, whome lawe and wisdome leade,
Although through rashnes poets hap to rayle,
A plea of dotage may all quarels quayle:
Theyr olde licence[1733] theyr writings to expounde,
Doth quit them cleare from faults by Momus founde.

31.

This freedom old ought[1734] not to be debard
From any wight that speaketh ought, or writeth:
The author’s meaning should of right be heard,
He knoweth best to what end he enditeth:
Wordes somtime beare more then the heart behiteth:
Admit therefore the author’s exposition,
If playne, for trueth: if forc’d, for his submission.

32.

In case of slaunder, [the] lawes[1735] requyre no more,
Saue to amend that seemed not well sayde:[1736]
Or to vnsay the slaunder’s sayde afore,
And aske forgiuenes for the hasty brayde:
To heretikes no greater payne is layde,
Then to recant theyr errours, or retract:
And worse then these can be no writer’s acte.

33.

“Yes,” quoth the Cat, “thy rayling words be treason,
And treason is far worse then heresy:”
Then must it follow by this awkewarde[1737] reason,
That kings be more then God in maiesty,
And soules be lesse then bodyes in degree:
For heretikes both soules and God offend,
Traytors but seeke to bring man’s life to end.

34.

I speake not this t’abace[1738] the haynous fault,
Of trayterous actes abhorde by God[1739] and man,
But to make playne theyr iudgement to be naught,
That heresy for lesser sin doe ban:
I curse them both as deepe as any can,
And alway did: yet through my foolish ryme,
They stayned mee with that most hatefull cryme.[1740]

35.

I neuer meant the king or counsayl harme,
Unles to wish them safty were offence:
Agaynst theyr powre I neuer lifted arme,
Nor pen, nor tongue, for any ill pretence:
The ryme I made, though rude, was sound in sence,
For they therein, whom I so fondly named,
So ruled all that they were foule defamed.

36.

This was no treason, but the very troth,
They ruled all, none could deny the same:
What was the cause then why they were so wroth?
What, is it treason in a ryming frame
To clip, to stretch, to adde, or chaunge a name?
And this reserued, there is no ryme nor reason,
That any craft can clout to seeme a treason.

37.

For where I meant the king by name of hog,
I only alluded to his badge the bore:
To _Louel’s_ name I added more our dog,
Because most dogs haue borne that name of yore:
These metaphors I vsde[1741] with other more,
As cat, and rat, the halfe names of the rest,
To hide the sence that they so wrongly wrest.

38.

I pray you now what treason finde you heare?
Enough, you rubd the gilty on the gaule,
Both sence and names doe note them very neare:
I graunt that was the chiefe cause of my faule,
Yet can you finde therein no treason at all:
There is no worde against the prince, or state,
No harme to them whom all the realme did hate.

39.

But sith the gilty alwayes are suspicious,
And dread the ruin that must sue by reason,
They cannot choose but count theyr counsayle vicious
That note theyr faults, and therefore call it treason:
All grace and goodnes with the lewde is geason:
This is the cause why they good thinges doe wrest,
Whereas the good take ill things to the best.

40.

And therefore, _Baldwine_, boldly to the good
Rebuke their fault, so[1742] shalt thou purchase thankes:
As for the bad, thou shalt but moue their[1743] moode,
Though pleasauntly thou touch their naughty prankes:[1744]
Warne poets all, no wise to[1745] passe the bankes
Of Hellicon, but keepe within the bound:[1746]
So shall their freedome to[1747] no harme redound.[1748][1749]

[“God’s blessing on his heart that made this:” sayd one,
“specially for reuiuing our auncient liberties. And I pray God it
may take such place with the magistrates, that they may ratifie
our olde freedome.” “Amen,” sayd another: “for that shall bee
a meane both to stay and vpholde themselues from falling, and
also to preserue many kinde, true, zealous, and well meaning
mindes from slaughter and infamy. If king _Richarde_ and his
counsailours had allowed, or at the least but winked at some
such wits, what great commodities might they haue taken thereby?
First, they should haue knowen what the people misliked and
grudged at, (which no one of their flatterers either woulde or
durst haue tolde them) and so mought haue found meane, eyther
by amendment (which is best) or by some other pollicy to haue
stayed the people’s grudge: the forerunner commonly of ruler’s
destruction.[1750] _Vox populi_, _vox Dei_, in this case is
not so famous a prouerbe, as true: the experience of all times
doe[1751] approue it. They should also haue bene warned of their
owne sinnes, which call continually for God’s vengeaunce, which
neuer faileth to fall on their neckes sodainly and horribly,
vnles it bee stayed with hearty repentaunce. These weighty
commodities mought they haue taken by _Collingbourn’s_ vaine
rime. But, as all thinges worke to the best in them that bee
good, so best thinges heape vp mischiefe in the wicked, and all
to hasten their vtter destruction. For after this poore wretche’s
lamentable persecution (the common rewarde of best endeuours)
strait followed the fatall[1752] destruction both of this tyrant,
and of his tormentours. Which I wishe might bee so set forth,
that they might bee a warning for euer, to all in authority,
to beware howe they vsurpe or abuse theyr offices.” “I haue
here,” quoth[1753] I, “king _Richard’s_ tragedy.” “Reade it,
wee pray you:” quoth[1754] they. “With a good will,” quoth[1755]
I. “For the better vnderstanding whereof, imagine that you see
him tormented with _Diues_ in the deepe pit of hell, and thence
howling this which followeth.”]

[How _Richarde Plantagenet_ Duke of Glocester murdered
his brother’s children, vsurping the crowne, and in
the third yeare of his raigne was most worthely
depriued of life and kingdome, in Bosworth
plaine, by _Henry_ Earle of Richmond
after called King _Henry_ the vij.
the 22 of August 1485.[1756]

1.

What heart so hard, but doth abhorre to heare
The rufull raigne of me the third _Richard_?
King vnkindly calde, though I the crown did weare,
Who entred by rigour, but right did not regard,
By tyranny proceding in killing king _Edward_,
Fift of that name, right heyr vnto the crowne,
With _Richard_ his brother, princes of renowne.

2.

Of trust they were committed vnto my gouernaunce,
But trust turned to treason, too truly it was tryed,
Both agaynst nature, duty, and alleigaunce,
For through my procurement most shamefully they dyed:
Desire of a kingdom forgetteth all kinred,
As after by discourse it shalbe shewed here,
How cruely these innocents in prison murdered[1757] were.

3.

The lords and commons all with one assent,
Protectour made me both of land and king,
But I therewith, alas, was not content:
For minding mischife I ment another thing,
Which to confusion in short time did mee bring:
For I, desirous to rule and raigne alone,
Sought crowne and kingdom, yet title had I none.

4.

To all peeres and princes a president I may bee,
The like to beware how they do enterprise,
And learne theyr wretched falles by my fact to foresee,
Which rufull stand bewayling my chaunce before theyr eyes,
As one cleane bereft of all felicityes:
For right through might I cruelly defaced,
But might helped right and mee agayne displaced.

5.

Alas, that euer prince should thus his honour stayne
With the bloud of innocents, most shamefull to be tolde:
For these two noble impes I caused to be slaine,
Of yeares not full ripe as yet to rule and raigne:
For which I was abhorred both of yong and olde,
But as the deede was odious in sight of God and man,
So shame and destruction in the end I wan.

6.

Both God, nature, duty, alleigaunce all forgot,
This vile and haynous act vnnaturally conspyred:[1758]
Which horrible deede done, alas, alas, God wot,
Such terrours mee tormented, and my sprites[1759] fired
As vnto such a murder and shamefull deede required,
Such broyle dayly felt I breeding in my brest,
Whereby, more and more, increased mine vnrest.

7.

My brother’s children were right heyres vnto the crowne,
Whom nature rather bound to defend then destroy,
But I not regarding theyr right nor my renowne,
My whole care and study to this end did employe,
The crowne to obtayne, and them both to put downe:
Wherein I God offended, prouoking iust his ire,
For this my attempt and most wicked desire.

8.

To cursed[1760] _Cayn_ compare my carefull case,
Which did vniustly slay his brother iust _Abel_:
And did not I in rage make run that rufull race
My brother duke of _Clarence_? whose deth I shame to tel,
For that it was so straunge as it was horrible:
For sure he drenched was, and yet no water neare,
Which straunge is to bee tolde, to all that shall it heare.

9.

The but hee was not whereat I did shoote,
But yet he stoode betweene the marke and mee,
For had he liu’d,[1761] for mee it was no boote
To tempt[1762] the thing that by no meanes could bee,
For I third was then of my brethren three:
But yet I thought the elder being gone,
Then needes must I beare the stroke alone.

10.

Desire of rule made mee, alas, to rewe,
My fatall fall I could it not foresee,
Puft vp in pride, so hawty then I grewe,
That none my peere I thought now could bee,
Disdayning such as were of high degree:
Thus dayly rising, and pulling other downe,
At last I shot how to win the crowne.

11.

And dayly deuising which was the best way
And meane, how I might my nephues both deuour:
I secretly then sent, without furder delay,
To _Brackinbury_, then lieutenaunt of the tower,
Requesting him by letters to helpe vnto his power,
For to accomplish this my desire and will,
And that hee would secretly my brother’s children kill.

12.

He aunswered playnly with a flat nay,
Saying that to dye hee would not doe that deede:
But finding then a profer to my[1763] pray,
“Well worth a friend (quoth[1764] I) yet in time of neede:”
_Iames Tyrrill_ hight his name, whom with all speede,
I sent agayne to _Brackinbury_, as you heard before,
Commaunding him deliuer the keyes of euery dore.

13.