And thus he prospers: whilst the king here spent
Much time to levy treasure 19, to maintain
His charge abroad: which, with that discontent,
That murmur, those denials, he doth gain;
As that he finds it ev'n as turbulent
To war for it, as with it, all his reign;
Though he had those enforcements of expense,
Both for offence, retainments, and defence.
For here beside these troubles in the land,
His large dominions held abroad require
A plentiful, and a prepared hand,
To guard them; where so mighty men 20 aspire
T'assail, distract, and trouble his command,
With hopes and promises, with sword and fire.
And then as deep imports bis coasts to clear,
Which by his neighbours much infested were:
The Flemings, Britains, with the French and all,
Attempt incursions, and work much despite.
Orleans for Guien: and here the count St. Paul 21
For Calais labours, and the isle of Wight:
Wherein though neither had success at all;
Yet Cler'mont overcame, and won by fight
Important holds in Gascony the while,
And did the English much distress and spoil.
All which require provisions to withstand;
And all are succour'd with great providence.
A navy, to secure the seas, is mann'd;
And forces sent to Calais 22, for defence.
And wherein other parts defective stand,
They are supply'd with careful diligence:
So that his subjects could not but well know,
That what they granted, he did sure bestow.
Nor did he spare himself, nor his; but (bent
All-wholly unto active worthiness)
The prince of Wales unto his province sent,
Where he was sure he should not take his ease:
His second son is with the earl of Kent,
Employ'd as governor to keep the seas.
A third", though very young, likewise sent forth
With Westmorland, attends unto the north.
19 An. reg. 6. With much ado, the laity granted two fifteenths, upon condition that the lord Furnival should receive all the money, and see it to be spent in the king's wars.
20 The duke of Orleans, with an army of six thousand men, entred into Guienne, and besieged Vergi the space of three months, and returned without obtaining it. Anno reg. 5. The count Clerimont, son to the duke of Bourbon, with monsieur de la Bret, won divers castles in Gascony. The same time the count St. Paul invadeth the isle of Wight with sixteen hundred men.
21 Anno regni 6. The count St. Paul besiegeth the castle of Mark, within three miles of Calais. The Britains, under the conduct of the lord of Cassils, spoiled and burnt the town of Plimouth.
22 The king sends four thousand men to Calais, and three thousand to the seas, under the conduct of bis second son, Thomas of Lancaster, afterwards duke of Clarence.
23 John, after duke of Bedford, sent with Ralph Nevil, earl of Westmorland, into the north.
Thus were they bred, who after were to be
Men amongst men. Here, with these grave adjoints,
(These learned masters) they were taught to see
Themselves, to read the world, and keep their points.
Thus were they entred in the first degree
(And accidence) of action; which acquaints
Them with the rules of worth and nobleness;
Which in true concord they learn'd well t' express.
And whilst h' attends the state thus carefully,
The earl of March's children are convey'd
Out of the tow'r of Windsor secretly;
Being pris'ners there not for their merit laid,
But for their blood; and to the end whereby
This chain of nature might be interlaid
Between the father and his high intents,
To hold him back, to save these innocents.
For which attempt, (though it were frustrated
By their recov'ry, who were got again)
Aumarle (now duke of York) is challenged
By his own sister 4, to have laid that train;
Who late her lord (with others) ruined,
In secretly betraying them, t' obtain
His grace and peace-which yet contents him not:
For who hath grace and peace by treason got?
So much did love t' her executed lord
Predominate in this fair lady's heart,
As in that region it would not afford
Nature a place to rest in any part
Of her affections; but that she abhorr'd
Her proper blood, and left to do the part
Of sisterhood, to do that of a wife;
T' avenge a husband's death, by brother's life.
Upon which accusation, presently
The duke committed is, without much stir
Or vulgar noise: for that it tenderly
Did touch the secret'st wounds of Lancaster:
When straight another new conspiracy 25.
(As if it were a certain successor,
Ally'd to this) engender'd in the north,
Is by the archbishop Scroope with pow'r brought
forth.
And with fair zeal and piety approv'd,
To be for th' universal benefit
And succour of the people; who (soon mov'd
By such persuaders as are held upright,
And for their zeal and charity belov'd)
Use not t' examine if the cause be right,
But leap into the toil, and are undone
By following them that they rely'd upon.
24 The lady Spencer, sister to Edward duke of York, late wife to Thomas lord Spencer, (executed at Bristol, an. reg. 1.) accused her brother to be the chief author of conveying away the earl of March's sons out of the tower of Windsor.
25 Henry Piercy, earl of Northumberland, again conspires against the king; with Richard Scroope, archbishop of York; Thomas Mowbray, earl marshal; Thomas lord Burdolph, and others. They assembled the citizens of York, with the country adjoining, to take their part, for the commodity fo the realm.
Here new aspersions, with new obloquies,
Are laid on old deserts; and future ill
On present suff'rings bruted to arise,
That further grievances 26 engender will.
And then concussion, rapine, pillories,
Their catalogue of accusations fill:
Which to redress, they do presume to make
Religion to avow the part they take.
And ev'n as Canterbury did produce
A pardon, to advance him to the crown;
The like now York 27 pronounces, to induce
His faction for the pulling of him down:
Whilst th' ignorant, deceiv'd by this abuse,
Makes others' ends to be as if their own.
But what would these have done against the crimes,
Oppressions, riots, wastes of other times?
Since now they had a monarch, and a man,
Rais'd by his worth, and by their own consent,
To govern them; and works the best he can,
T' advance the crown, and give the state content;
Commits not all to others care, nor ran
An idle course, or on his minions spent.
"But thus the horse at first bites at the bit,
That after is content to play with it."
Grown to a mighty pow'r (attending now
Northumberland, with his prepared aid)
The bishop (by a parle) is, with a show
Of combination, cunningly betray'd
By Westmorland 28; whose wit did overthrow
(Without a sword) all these great fears, and stay'd
The mightiest danger that did ever yet
Thy crown and state, disturbed Henry, threat.
For which this rev'rend priest 29 with Mowbray dies;
Who both drawn on with passion of despite,
To undertake this fatal enterprise,
(The one his brother's bloodshed to requite;
The other for his father's injuries)
Did wrong themselves, and did not others right.
"For who through th' eyes of their affections look,
And not of judgment, thus are overtook."
Whereof when news came to Northumberland 30,
(Who seldom other than of misery
Seems born to hear; being ever behind hand
With Fortune, and his opportunity)
To Scotland flies: where given to understand
Of some entrapment by conspiracy,
26 They divulge grievous articles against the king.
27 The archbishop of York offers pardon to all that take their part against the king.
Gets into Wales; whence he adventured
T' attempt another day, and lost his head.
Whereby once more those parts are quieted;
When as the king" (who never had his brow
Seen free from sweat, nor heart from trouble rid)
Was, with suspicion that his son grew now
Too popular, and forward, so much fed
By wicked instruments, (who well knew how,
To gain by princes fears) as he thereby
Fell in his grief to great extremity.
Which when that virtuous prince (who born to be
The model of a glorious monarch) heard,
With humble protestations did so free
His father's fears, and his own honour clear'd,
As that he plainly made the world to see,
How base detraction and deceit appear'd;
And that a heart so nobly built, could not
Coutain (within) a thought that wore a blot.
Wherewith the king betakes him to some peace;
Yet to a peace much like a sick man's sleep,
(Whose unrelenting pains do never cease,
But always watch upon his weakness keep)
That never any sabbath of release
Could free his travels, and afflictions deep:
But still his cares held working all his life,
Till Death concludes a final end with strife.
Whose herald, Sickness, being employ'd before,
With full commission to denounce his end;
And pain and grief enforcing more and more,
Besieg'd the hold that could not long defend;
Consuming so all that resisting store
Of those provisions Nature deign'd to lend,
As that the walls (worn thin) permit the mind
To look out thorough, and his frailty find.
For now (as if those vapours vanish'd were,
Which heat of boiling blood and health did breed,
To cloud the judgment) things do plain appear
In their own colours, as they are indeed;
When as th' illighten'd soul discovers clear
Th' abusive shows of sense, and notes with heed
How poor a thing is pride; "When all, as slaves,
Differ but in their fetters, not their graves.".
And lying on his last, afflicted bed,
Pale Death and Conscience both before him stand;
Th' one holding out a book, wherein he read
In bloody lines the deeds of his own band:
The other shows a glass, which figured
An ugly form of foul corrupted sand;
Both bringing horrour in the high'st degree,
With what he was, and what he soon should be.
28 The earl of Westmorland, with John duke of Lancaster, gathered an army against the conspirators; whose power being too great for them, Which seeing, (all trembling and confus'd with fear, the earl made semblance to join with the archbi-He lay awhile amaz'd with this affright: shop, for redress of such grievances as he pretend- At last commands some that attending were, ed; and so circumvented, and disfurnished him of To fetch the crown, and set it in his sight: his forces, anno. reg. 6. On which with fixed eye, and heavy cheer, Casting a look—" O God," saith he, "what right
29 The archbishop was brother to William Scroope, earl of Wiltshire, treasurer of England, before beheaded.
Thomas Mowbray, earl marshal, son to the duke of Norfolk, banished about the quarrel with Henry Bolingbroke.
The earl of Northumberland, returning out of Wales, recovers new forces in Yorkshire; and is,
with the lord Bardolph, overcome at Bramham Moor, and slain in the battle, anuo regni 9.
31 The king grows jealous of his son Henry, prince of Wales: who, with a better mind than fashion, came to his father, and cleared himself, anno regni 13.
I had to thee, I now in grief conceive:
Thee-which with blood I held! with horrour leave!" His falt'ring tongue"; and pain (t' enforce 't again)
And herewithal, the soul (rapt with the thought
Of mischiefs past) did so attentive weigh
These present terrours, whilst (as if forgot)
The dull oppressed body senseless lay;
That he as breathless quite, quite dead is thought:
When lo! the son comes in, and takes away
This fatal crown from thence; and out he goes,
As if impatient longer time to lose.
To whom (call'd back for this presumptuous deed)
The king, return'd from out his ecstasy,
Began "O son, what need'st thou make such
To be before-hand with thy misery?
Thou shalt have time enough, if thou succeed,
To feel the storms that beat on dignity.
And if thou could'st but be (be any thing)
In liberty, then never be a king."
"Nay, father, since your fortune did attain
So high a stand; I mean not to descend,"
Replies the prince. "As if what you did gain,
I were of spirit unable to defend.
Time will appease them well, who now complain,
And ratify our int'rest in the end.
What wrong hath not continuance quite out-worn?
Years make that right, which never was so born."
"If so, God work his pleasure," said the king:
"Yet thou must needs contend with all thy might,
Such evidence of virtuous deeds to bring,
That well may prove our wrong to be our right.
And let the goodness of the managing
Rase out the blot of foul attaining quite;
That discontent may all advantage miss,
To wish it otherwise than now it is.
"And since my death my purpose doth prevent,
Touching this holy war I took in hand,
(An action wherewithal my soul had meant
T' appease my God, and reconcile my land)
To thee is left to finish my intent;
Who, to be safe, must never idly stand:
But some great actions entertain thou still,
To hold their minds, who else will practise ill.
"Thou hast not that advantage by my reign,
To riot it, as they whom long descent
Hath purchas'd love by custom: but with pain
Thou must contend to buy the world's content.
What their birth gave them thou hast yet to gain,
By thine own virtues and good government:
So that unless thy worth confirm the thing,
Thou never shalt be father to a king.
But that this all-subduing pow'r here stay'd
Barr'd up the oppressed passages of breath,
To bring him quite under the state of death.
In whose possession I must leave him now;
And now into the ocean of new toils,
Into the stormy main (where tempests grow
Of greater ruins, and of greater spoils)
Set forth my course (to hasten on my vow)
O'er all the troublous deep of these turmoils.
And if I may but live t' attain the shore
Of my desired end, I wish no more.
HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WAR.
THE ARGUMENT.
Henry the Fifth cuts off his enemy,
The earl of Cambridge, that conspir'd his death.
Henry the Sixth, (marry'd unluckily)
His, and his country's glory ruineth.
Suffolk, that made the match, preferr'd too high;
Going t' exile, a pirate murthereth.
What means the duke of York observ'd, to gain
The world's good-will, seeking the crown t' attain.
CLOSE Smother'd lay the low depressed fire,
Whose after-issuing flames confounded all,
The whilst victorious Henry' did conspire
The wreck of France, that at his feet did fall:
Whilst joys of gotten spoils, and new desire
Of greater gain, to greater deeds did call
His conq'ring troops; that could no thoughts retain,
Save thoughts of glory, all that active reign.
Whom here, methinks, (as if he did appear,
Out of the cloudy darkness of the night)
I do behold approach with martial cheer,
And with a dreadful (and yet lovely) sight:
Whose eye gives courage, and whose brow hath fear,
Both representing terrour and delight;
And stays my course, and off my purpose breaks;
And in upbraiding words thus fiercely speaks.
"Ungrateful times! that impiously neglect
That worth, that never times again shall show.
What! merits all our toil no more respect ?
Those wondrous actions, that do so object
Blame to the wanton, sin unto the slow?
Can England see the best that she can boast
Lie thus ungrac'd, undeck'd, and almost lost?
"Nor art thou born in those calm days, where rest Or else stands Idleness asham'd to know
Hath brought asleep sluggish security:
But in tumultuous times, where minds address'd
To factions, are inur'd to mutiny;
A mischief, not by force to be suppress'd,
Where rigour still begets more enmity.
Hatred must be beguil'd with some new course,
Where states are stiff, and princes doubt their force."
This, and much more, affliction would have said,
Out of th' experience of a troublous reign,
(For which his high desires had dearly paid
The int'rest of an ever-toiling pain)
32 Anno dom. 1412, the king died in the 46th year of his age, when he had reigned 13 years 6 months, and left four sons: Henry, after him, king; the duke of Clarence, John duke of Bedford, and Humphrey duke of Glocester.
1 Henry V. began his reign, March 20, 1412.
"Why do you seek for feigned Palladines,
(Out of the smoke of idle vanity)
Who may give glory to the true designs
Of Bourchier, Talbot, Nevile, Willoughby?
Why should not you strive to fill up your lines,
With wonders of your own, with verity?
Tinflame their offspring with the love of good,
And glorious true examples of their blood.
"What everlasting matter here is found,
Whence new immortal Iliads might proceed!
That those whose happy graces do abound
In blessed accents, here may have to feed
Good thoughts, on no imaginary ground
Of hungry shadows, which no profit breed;
Whence, music-like, instant delight may grow;
Yet when men all do know, they nothing know.
"And why dost thou, in lamentable verse,
Nothing but bloodshed, treason, sin, and shame,
The worst of times, th' extreme of il! rehearse;
To raise old stains, and to renew dead blame?
As if the minds of th' evil and perverse,
Were not far sooner trained from the same,
By good example of fair virtuous acts,
Than by the show of foul ungodly facts.
"Would God our times had had some sacred wight,
Whose words as happy as our swords had been,
To have prepar'd for us trophies aright
Of undecaying frames t' have rested in;
Triumphant arks of perdurable might:
O holy lines! that such advantage win
Upon the scythe of Time, in spite of years:
How blessed they, who gain what never wears!
"For what is it to do; if what we do
Shall perish near as soon as it is done?
What is that glory we attain unto
With all our toil, if lost as soon as won?
A small requital for so great ado,
Is this poor present breath, a smoke soon gone;
Or these dumb stones, erected for our sake:
Which formless heaps few stormy changes make.
"Tell great Eliza, (since her days are grac'd
With those bright ornaments to us deny'd)
That she repair what darkness hath defac'd,
And get our ruin'd deeds re-edify'd.
She! in whose all-directing eye is plac'd
A pow'r, the highest pow'rs of wit to guide;
She may command the work, and oversee
The holy frame, that might eternal be.
"For would she be content that Time should make
A rav'nous prey upon her glorious reign;
That darkness and the night should overtake
So clear a brightness shining without stain?
Ah! no she fosters some, no doubt, that wake
For her eternity, with pleasing pain.
And if she for herself prepare this good,
Let her not so neglect those of her blood."
This that great monarch Henry seem'd to crave:
When (weighing what a holy motive here
Virtue propos'd, and fit for him to have,
Whom all times ought of duty hold most dear)
I sigh'd-and wish'd that some would take t' engrave,
With curious hand, so proud a work to rear,
(To grace the present, and to bless times past,)
That might for ever to our glory last!
So should our well-taught times have learn'd alike,
How fair shin'd virtue, and bow foul vice stood;
When now myself am driven to mislike
Those deeds of worth I dare not vow for good:
I cannot moan who lose, nor praise who seek
By mighty actions here t' advance their blood.
I must say, who wrought most, least honour had:
However good the cause, the deeds were bad.
And only tell the worst of ev'ry reign;
And not the intermeddled good report.
I leave what glory virtue did attain
At th' ever-memorable Agincourt.
I leave to tell, what wit, what pow'r did gain
Th' assieged Roan, Caen, Dreux; or in what sort:
How majesty with terrour did advance
Her conq'ring foot on all-subdued France.
All this I pass; and that magnan'mous king,
Mirror of virtue, miracle of worth;
Whose mighty actions, with wise managing,
Forc'd prouder boasting climes to serve the North:
The best of all the best the Earth can bring,
Scarce equals him in what his reign brought forth;
Being of a mind as forward to aspire,
As fit to govern what he did desire.
His comely body was a goodly seat,
Where Virtue dwelt most fair, as lodg'd most pure:
A body strong; where use of strength did get
A stronger state to do, and to endure.
His life he makes th' example to beget
Like spirit in those he did to good inure;
And gave to Worth such life and livelihood,
As if he greatness sought but to do good.
He, as the chief and all-directing head,
Did with his subjects as his members live;
And them to goodness forced not, but led;
Winning, not much to have, but much to give,
(Deeming the pow'r of his, his pow'r did spread)
As born to bless the world, and not to grieve:
Adorn'd with others' spoils, not subjects' store;
No king exacting less, none winning more.
He, after that corrupted faith had bred
An ill-inur'd obedience for command,
And languishing luxuriousness had spread
Wayward unaptness over all the land;
Those long unorder'd troops so marshalled,
Under such formal discipline to stand,
That ev'n his soul seem'd only to direct
So great a body, such exploits t' effect.
He brings abroad distracted discontent,
Dispers'd ill humours into actions high;
And to unite them all in one consent,
Plac'd the fair mark of glory in their eye;
That Malice had no leisure to dissent,
Nor Envy time to practise treachery.
The present actions do divert the thought
Of madness past, while minds were so well wrought.
Here now were pride, oppression, usury,
(The canker-eating mischiefs of the state)
Call'd forth to prey upon the enemy;
Whilst the home-burthen'd better lighten'd sat.
Exactors did not with a greedy eye
Examine states, or private riches rate.
The silent courts warr'd not with busy words; Nor wrested law gave the contentious swords.
Now nothing entertains th' attentive ear,
But stratagems, assaults, surprises, fights:
How to give laws to them that conquer'd were;
How to articulate with yielding wights.
The weak with mercy, and the proud with fear,
How to retain; to give deserts their rights;
Were now the arts-And nothing else was thought,
But how to win, and maintain what was got.
Nor here were any privately possess'd,
Or held alone imprison'd majesty ;
Proudly debarring entrance from the rest,
As if the prey were theirs by victory.
Here no detractor wounds who merits best;
Nor shameless brow cheers on impiety.
Virtue, who all her toil with zeal had spent,
Not here all unrewarded sighing went.
But here, the equally respecting eye
Of Pow'r, looking alike on like deserts,
Blessing the good, made others' good thereby;
More mighty by the multitude of hearts.
The field of glory unto all doth lie
Open alike; honour to all imparts.
So that the only fashion in request,
Was, to be good, or good-like as the rest.
So much, O thou, Example, dost effect,
(Being far a better master than Command")
That how to do, by doing dost direct,
And teachest others action by thy hand.
"Who follows not the course that kings elect?
When princes work, who then will idle stand?
And when that doing good is only thought
Worthy reward; who will be bad for nought?"
And had not th'earl of Cambridge, with vain speed,
Untimely practis'd for another's right,
With hope t' advance those of his proper seed,
(On whom the rule seem'd destined to light)
The land had seen none of her own to bleed,
During this reign, nor no aggrieved sight:
None the least blackness interclouded had
So fair a day, nor any eye look'd sad.
But now when France perceived from afar
The gath'ring tempest growing on from hence,
Ready to fall, threatning their state to mar,
They labour all means to provide defence: ⚫
And practising how to prevent this war,
And shut out such calamities from thence;
Do foster here some discord lately grown,
To hold ambition busied with her own.
3.........Docet tolerare labores; non jubet. * Richard earl of Cambridge, the second son to Edmund Langley, duke of York; married Anne, the daughter of Roger Mortimer, earl of March, descended from Lionel duke of Clarence, the third son to king Edward III. By whose right, Richard duke of York, son to this earl of Cambridge, afterwards 'claimed the crown.
Finding those humours which they saw were fit
Soon to be wrought, and easy to be fed,
Swol'n full with envy, that the crown should sit
There were it did, (as if established)
And whom it touch'd in blood, to grieve at it;
They with such hopes and helps solicited,
That this great earl was drawn t' attempt the thing,
And practiseth how to depose the king.
For being of mighty means to do the deed,
And yet of mightier hopes than means to do;
And yet of spirit that did his hopes exceed;
And then of blood as great, to add thereto :
All these, with what the gold of France could breed,
(Being pow'rs enough a climbing mind to woo)
He so employ'd, that many he had won
Ev'n of the chief the king rely'd upon.
The well-known right of th' earl of March allur'd
A leaning love; whose cause he did pretend :
Whereby he knew that so himself procur'd
The crown for his own children in the end.
For the earl being (as he was assur'd)
Unapt for issue; it must needs descend
On those of his, being next of Clarence race,
As who by course of right should hold the place.
It was the time when as the forward prince
Had all prepar❜d for his great enterprise";
And ready stand his troops to part from hence,
And all in stately form and order lies;
When open Fame gives out intelligence
Of these bad complots of his enemies.
Or else this time of purpose chosen is;
Though known before, yet let run on till this.
That this might yield the more to aggravate
Upon so foul a deed untimely sought,
Now at this point t' attempt to ruinate
So glorious a design so forward brought;
Whilst careful virtue seeks t' advance the state,
And for her everlasting honour sought:
That though the cause seem'd right, and title strong,
The time of doing it yet makes it wrong.
But straight an unlamented death he had.
And straight were joyfully the anchors weigh'd,
And all flock fast aboard with visage glad;
As if the sacrifice had now been paid
For their good speed, that made their stay so sad,
Loathing the least occasion that delay'd.
And now new thoughts, great hopes, calm seas, fair
With present action entertain their minds. [winds,
No other cross, O Henry, saw thy days
But this, that touch'd thy now possessed hold;
Nor after long, till this man's son' assays
To get of thine the right that he controll'd;
For which contending long, his life he pays.
So that it fatal seem'd, the father should
The earl of Cambridge conspiring the death of the king, was, with Henry Scroope, lord treasurer, and sir Thomas Grey, executed at Southampton, anno 3. regni.
"Richard duke of York, son to the earl of Cambridge, by Anne, daughter to the earl of March, made his claim in the 30th year of Henry VI.
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