Chapter IX: Part IV: By RICHARD NICCOLS, (7)

Horror pursues the homicide’s sad soule,
Feare hunts his conscience with an hue and crie,
That drinkes the blood of men in murder’s bowle,
Suspitious thoughts do rest in life denie,
Hate seldome suffers him in peace to die,
By heau’n’s inuiolate doome it is decreed,
Whose hands shed blood, his heart in death should bleed.

2.

I was to noble _Yorke_ the yongest sonne
Of foure, which he begot in lawfull bed,
First _Edward_ was, the next place _Edmund_ wonne,
_Rutland’s_ yong earle by _Clifford’s_ hand strooke dead,
_Clarence_ the third, to death vntimely lead:
I was the last: of all the foure the worst,
By heau’n and nature in my birth accurst.

3.

When my sad mother in her fruitfull wombe
Bore me a painfull burthen to and fro,
Then the babe’s infant bed had been my tombe,
Had not keene rasors to her paine and woe
Cut me a way, vnto the world to goe:
Nature did grudge to think, that from her wombe
A man-like monster to the world should come.

4.

When first I came into this world’s huge vast,
My birth was not as others wont to bee:
First did my feet come forth, as if in hast
The child of discord had been then set free,
To cause the wretched world to disagree,
Heau’n at that time told b’inauspitious starres
Nations far off of England’s ciuil warres.

5.

As hunger-steru’d to flesh my iawes in blood
I readie toothed came, as who would say,
Nature by signes vnto the world hath show’d
How fiercely he shall bite another day,
That in his mother’s wombe well toothed lay,
And maruaile ’twas, seeing viper-like he came,
He was not borne by death of his owne damme.

6.

If like a cunning painter on a frame
My shape vnto the world I could descrie,
And with a curious pensell paint the same
In perfect colours, each spectatour’s eie
Would by my lookes into my manners prie:
The bodie’s ill-shapte limbes are oft defin’d,
For signes of euill manners in the mind.

7.

Little I was, and of a small compact,
My left side shoulder higher then the right,
Both crooked were, and therewithall contract
Into my backe, so that in all men’s sight
I did appeare a most mishapen wight:
And hard it was to iudge, if that my soule
Or limbes ill fashion’d feature were more foule.

8.

The deeds of noble _Yorke_ I not recite,
Done in those fatall daies of miserie,
Nor tell th’euents of euery speciall fight,
As at Saint Albones, Bloreheath, Banburie,
Northhampton, Barnet, Wakefield, Teukesburie,
Seeing they are often spoken of before,
By those, that heere their wofull falles deplore.

9.

Th’induction to my storie shall begin
Where the sixth _Henrie’s Edward_ timelesse fell:
Sonne to stout _Margaret_ that noble queene,
Of whom since heere no poet’s pen doth tell:
Though hee a peerelesse prince deserue it well,
In breefe we will describe the manner all
Of our sterne deede and his vnhappie fall.

10.

His mother queene, the manlike _Margaret_,
After so many a fall in fight cast downe,
With her young _Edward_ and stout _Somerset_
Did lastly hazard all for England’s crowne
In fight at Teukesburie: but heau’n did frowne,
_Wenlocke_ and _Somerset_ fled both away,
Left vs the field, and lost their queene the day.

11.

The forlorne prince was taken as he fled
By _Richard Crofts_, a knight of Glostershire,
Who hearing of the proclamation spread,
That, who could bring him forth, should, for his hire,
Duely receiue a hundred poundes by yeere:
The prince he brought to end our ancient strife,
With promise made, that we should saue his life.

12.

In presence brought, the king to him thus spake:
“Fond wretch,” said he, “what did thy thoughts excite
To come within my kingdome’s bounds, and take
Rebellious armes t’oppugne thy soueraigne’s right,
And traytor-like in field ’gainst me to fight?”
To which the prince, in whose bold breast did lie
An inbred courage, made this stout replie:

13.

“I came,” said he, “to set my father free,
Whom thou in hold vniustly dost retaine:
I came to reobtaine my dignitie,
And in the throne to seate my sire againe,
In which as king thou wrongfully dost raigne:
I am by might enforc’d to stoope to thee,
Who should by right be subiect vnto mee.”

14.

The king being mou’d with this his stout replie,
Thrust him away, in whose heroicke brest
My brother _Clarence_, _Hastings_, _Grey_, and I,
Did sheath our blades, which fact heau’n did detest,
Permitting vs not vnreueng’d to rest:
For none of vs in peacefull bed did lie,
When from this world our wretched soules did flie.

15.

He dead, his sire, that poore deposed king,
The aged _Henrie_, sixt of that same name,
Liu’d in the Tower, depriu’d of euery thing
Which to a king pertain’d: yet did he frame
His thoughts with patience to endure the same,
Liuing a paterne of a patient spirit,
Who for his fame a golden verse doth merit.

16.

I thought, that while this noble king had breath,
His friends my brother’s peace would still inuade:
Wherefore I did contriue his sudden death,
And in the Tower the butcher’s part I plaide,
For th’hatefull point of that same bloodie blade,
Scarce cold with luke-warm blood of his owne sonne,
Vnlooked for, I through his sides did runne.

17.

He dead, the battels fought in field before,
Were turn’d to meetings of sweet amitie,
The war-gods thundring cannons dreadfull rore,
And ratling drum-sounds warlike harmonie,
To sweet tun’d noise of pleasing minstralsie,
The haile-like shot, to tennis balles were turn’d,
And sweet perfumes in stead of smoakes were burn’d.

18.

God Mars laid by his launce and tooke his lute,
And turn’d his rugged frownes to smiling lookes,
In stead of crimson fields, warre’s fatall fruits,
He bath’d his limbes in Cypris’ warbling brookes,
And set his thoughts vpon her wanton lookes,
All noise of warre was husht vpon our coast,
Plentie each where in easefull pride did boast.

19.

The king, who swims in streames of court delights,
Plaies like the fish so long with pleasure’s bait,
That on her deadly bane he often bites,
Or like the mariner infortunate,
Sayling in seas where syrens lie in wait:
To please the sense he lends his eare so long,
Till he be charm’d with their inchanting song.

20.

Meane time not made to feast an amorous eie,
I fox-like lurking lay about the king,
Into the actions of the peeres I prie,
With cautie obseruation of each thing,
While with their wanton sou’raigne reuelling:
They vainly spend in Venus vassallage
The tedious houres of that peacefull age.

21.

But clouds do thicken in this peacefull cleere,
_Warwicke’s_ faire daughter forc’d by vnkind fate,
Forsakes lord _Clarence_ her beloued feere,
Who purposing to take for second mate,
The only heire of some hie towring state,
Did hope t’espouse with nuptials solemnely,
Duke _Charles_ his daughter, heire of Burgundie.

22.

Which when the queene and her allies doth heare,
At _Clarence_ fortunes daily they repine,
And to the king in hast this newes do beare,
Who to their words his will doth so incline,
That _Clarence_ match is broke by his designe:
King _Edward_ iealous of his children’s fate,
Gainst _Clarence_ in his heart beares secret hate.

23.

This opportunitie I straight do snatch,
Striking the steele while yet the fire is in,
In the king’s brest such hatred I do hatch
Against our brother, that his hand I win
To further me in my intended sinne:
For that blind riddle of the letter _G_,
_George_ lost his life, it tooke effect in me.

24.

Thus hauing halfe my purpose in my hand
By _Clarence_ death, I cast how to confound
The noble queene’s neere kinsmen, who would band
Themselues gainst me by law of nature bound,
When _Edward’s_ bodie should be laid in ground:
But while the king, my brother did suruiue,
To worke their woe, nought durst my thoughts contriue.

25.

Yet whom in court I did perceiue, that bore
A grudging heart against their vpstart state:
My brother’s death to him I did deplore,
Auouching them with their malignant hate,
T’haue been the authors of his wofull fate,
Which at such odds the peeres and them did set,
That neuer age such discord did beget.

26.

Fortune in midst of this their wicked strife,
With pleasing looke so smil’d on my intent,
That by the sudden losse of _Edward’s_ life,
My kingly brother, she did seeme t’assent
To grant me good successe in the euent:
The king late sick, leaues heere the peeres at oddes,
And flies the place of mortall men’s abodes.

27.

His corps scarce couered with a clod of clay,
His kingly ghost of heauie newes to tell:
Earle _Riuers_, _Vaughan_, and lord _Richard Grey_,
The kindred of the queene I did compell
To follow him, amongst the dead to dwell,
Vnhappie _Hastings_, _Buckingham_ and I
At Pomfret castle caused them to die.

28.

They dead, protector by consent of peeres
To hold the sterne in state I chosen am:
My nephew yet being in his yongest yeares,
Which once attain’d by helpe of _Buckingham_,
To higher things ambitiously I aime,
Who for my promise of promotion, gaue
His minde to mine, in each thing I could craue.

29.

_Hastings_, whose loyaltie stood in my way,
Vpon his fall to build my future power,
As he at counsell sate vpon a day
With other lordings in the fatall Tower,
By my deceit there met his liue’s last houre:
Where he, fond lord, did think himselfe most sure,
His best deem’d friends swift death did him procure.

30.

The way made plaine by plucking others downe,
That might withstand in such a generall ill,
With some pretence of title to the crowne,
To win the giddie people to our will,
A man whose tongue could honie drops distill,
One doctor _Shaw_, then deem’d a great diuine,
To vndertake this taske we did assigne.

31.

He in a sermon fitting mine intent,
Did seeke to proue my brother’s progenie
Vnlawfull issue: and with my consent
Chargeth my mother with adulterie,
Of _Edward’s_ and lord _Clarence_ bastardie,
Auouching me to be _Yorke’s_ true borne child,
On whom our house their hopes might only build.

32.

To this his sermon, as it was decreed,
Rushing amongst the people in I came,
Where he most impudent, in hope to breed
Affection in the audience did not shame,
On me with loud applauses to exclame:
For flying from his text when I came in,
In praise of me, thus did the wretch begin.

33.

“This is,” quoth he, “that very noble duke,
The speciall paterne of true chiualrie,
Who both in fauour and in princely looke,
As well as in the mind’s true qualitie,
Doth represent his father’s physnomie:”
Thus did he seeke the people’s hearts t’incline,
But purchas’d nought but his disgrace and mine.

34.

For after, when disloyall _Buckingham_
Vnto the commons that set speech did make,
Which with inuectiue scandall he did frame
Against the late dead king: when much he spake
To moue them, me for lawfull prince to take:
Strooke dumbe with shame, of so abhorr’d a thing,
Not one amongst them crie, “God saue the king.”

35.

After I had obtain’d by tyrannie,
The fancied blisse of empire and renowne:
I thought so long as _Edward’s_ progenie
Did breath on earth, fortune did seeme to frowne,
Threatning to cast my new got glorie downe:
Wherefore, betwixt the sheets with cruell paine,
Vnhappie I did cause them to be slaine.

36.

Thinking thenceforth to enioy all worldly blisse,
And with my crowne’s delight my soule to feast:
What I expect, I do not only misse,
But am depriued eu’n of that small rest,
Of which before that time I was possest:
Conscience my former deeds in question brings,
And frights my guiltie soule with fearefull things.

37.

Each night, when quiet sleepe should close mine eies,
Long waking on my pallat I do lie,
And if by chance sleepe doth my sense surprise,
Then doth illusion set before mine eie
My murthered nephewes, who aloud do crie,
Calling for vengeance for that bloodie sinne,
In strangling them the diadem to winne.

38.

Then starting vp from forth my naked bed,
With sword in hand I frantike-like would flie
About my chamber, and orecome with dread,
Vnto my guard I oftentimes would crie,
That treason in my chamber hid did lie:
Thus the remembrance of my wicked deed,
In me euen sleeping, did strange horror breed.

39.

In day time wheresoeuer I did go,
My watchfull eyes I whirled round about,
Fearing the onset of some sudden foe,
And to be out of dreadfull danger’s doubt,
My bodie priuily was fenc’d about:
Vpon my dagger still I kept my hand,
Readie to stab those that by me did stand.

40.

After the murther of my nephewes twaine,
Not long it was ere _Buckingham_ and I
Began to iarre, for which my lawlesse raigne
Not long did last, his last conspiracie
Did end his owne life and my royaltie:
Who gag’d his honor t’helpe me to the crowne,
With his owne death did help to bring me downe.

41.

Of Hereford the dukedome he did claime,
Which was the chiefest cause of our debate:
For his pretended title to the same
Did touch the kingly title of our state,
For which his sute I spurn’d in spitefull hate,
And rated him with speeches minatorie,
Which was the fall of my vsurped glorie.

42.

When thus the wrathfull duke did plainly see
His sute reiected, and himselfe despis’d,
He cast how to auenge himselfe on mee,
And in his thoughts my ruine he deuis’d:
In which a bold attempt he enterpris’d,
For he in battell bold himselfe did band,
Against me for to fight with force of hand.

43.

Many with him against me did accord,
For when the sudden fame abroad was spread,
How noble _Richmond_ that Lancastrian lord,
My brother’s heire, _Elizabeth_ should wed,
Many that were that often wisht me dead:
Vowing to spend their blood in _Richmond’s_ right,
And to assist the duke with all their might.

44.

Then were commotions raised euery day,
The duke in Shropshire hard by Shrewsburie,
The proud wilde Welchmen troopt in battell ray,
Who vainly vaunted on their chiualrie,
As in the sequell they did testifie:
Yet their example many did excite,
To moue rebellion to my heart’s despight.

45.

In Yorke-shire marquesse _Dorset_ with his crew,
Gainst me in field to fight were boldly bent,
In Deuonshire both the _Courtnies_ did pursue
Those that my cause did fauour, and in Kent
The _Guilfords_ were in armes for that intent:
Thus I in euery corner of this land,
Was round beset with force of foe-men’s hand.

46.

Yet from my youth in warre affaires being bred,
I knew that if in this conspiracie
I did without delay cut off the head,
The rest being stricken with timiditie,
Would soone be quell’d by force or pollicie:
Wherefore with all my power I did pursue
The duke of _Buckingham_ and his Welch crue.

47.

He towards Glocester his way did take,
There to haue ioyned with the westerne powre,
But as in safetie passage for to make,
He with his host by Seuerne’s coast did scowre,
Heau’ns cloudie mountaines brake, and many a showre
Through darksome aire, from heau’ns wide floud-gates fel,
Which made the wombe of raging Seuerne swel.

48.

The shores did shrinke, the lustie waues did grow,
Trees hid their heads, dumbe beasts on hilles were drown’d,
Infants in cradles wandred to and fro:
Yea those that of the floud stroue to win ground,
Both men and horse the waters did confound:
And to this day the Seuerne men by name,
Stout _Buckingham’s_ great water call the same.

49.

Thus the bold duke was of his purpose crost,
Who of my swift approch, when he did heare:
In good array did range his warlike host.
But they, before in field we did appeare,
Turning their backes put on the wings of feare,
Leading their duke the way, who thus distrest
Durst not abide, but fled amongst the rest.

50.

Who tooke himselfe in his vnhappie flight,
Vnto his seruant’s house vpon the way,
Hight _Humfrey Banester_, a wicked wight,
Who fosterd by this duke did yet betray
His lord and master, to his liue’s decay:
By him descri’d he in disguise was taken
In a darke wood, of all his friends forsaken.

51.

He dead, the rest of his conspiracie
Dispers’d their powers, and each one fled his way,
Some fled to _Richmond_, then in Britannie,
And others here in England lurking lay,
Expecting the approch of that wish’d day,
When _Richmond_ should on England’s coast arriue,
Mee of my crowne and kingdome to depriue.

52.

But I, not slacking opportunitie
In this beginning of my good successe,
Did studdie both by strength and policie,
_Richmond’s_ increasing powers to suppresse,
Although in vaine; for heauen, his cause did blesse:
The people’s loue did towards him incline,
Wishing in hart, that he might victor shine.

53.

To giue content vnto my carefull minde,
One _Peter Landois_, cheefe of Britannie
Vnder the duke, with gold I did so blinde,
That hee did promise mee by policie
To bring the earle into my custodie:
The Britaine duke his friend did only stand,
To whom my subiects dayly fled the land.

54.

This _Peter_ was th’earle’s onelie seeming frend,
And in pretence of loue, a warlike band
Of men at his owne cost he did commend
Vnto the earle, to be at his command,
When hee should purpose to inuade this land:
But when towards England hee was in his way,
His purpose was that they should him betray.

55.

The earle reseru’d vnto more happie fate,
Informed was of this false treacherie,
Wherefore t’escape their hands, that lay in wait,
To take away his life, he priuilie
Did into Aniou flie from Britannie,
To which as hee did flie in speedie hast
With greedie pursuit hee was follow’d fast.

56.

But in a thick wood standing by the way,
He in his seruant’s weedes himselfe did clad,
And caused him the master’s part to play,
While hee himselfe fast by his side full glad
On foote did runne like a young lustie lad,
Whereby at length hee past without mischance
The British confines to the realme of France.

57.

Thither stout _Oxford_, his old hate to show
Vnto our house of Yorke, repaire did make,
To ioyne with _Richmond_ my Lancastrian foe:
Then _Brandon_, _Blunt_ and _Cheynie_ did forsake
Me and my part, with _Richmond_ part to take,
Which newes my daylie dread doth so increase
That I no houre can liue in restfull peace.

58.

To whom I might giue trust, I did not know,
Since seeming friends from mee do daylie flie,
In court each one doth wish my ouerthrow,
In towne and citie euery one doth crie
Shame on my deedes of death and tyrannie:
Thus in my rule I liue belou’d of none,
Dreaded of many, hated of euerie one.

59.

To my distresse some comfort to applie,
And that I may remoue the onely thing,
On which earle _Richmond’s_ hopes doe most relie:
Now such strange mischiefe I doe set on wing,
That neuer age the like to light did bring:
Through blood to incest I intend to swim,
To breake the match betwixt my neece and him.

60.

For _Anne_ my queene, great _Warwicke’s_ daughter deere,
By poyson’s force I sent vnto the dead:
Which done, my troubled thoughts I vp did cheere,
In hope I might my brother’s daughter wed,
And bring her vnto mine incestuous bed:
Foule sinne I now do feare in no degree,
That I from feare of _Richmond_ may be free.

61.

Her mother queene (strange that it should bee so)
Wonne with faire words consents vnto the same:
Who forc’d by feare, or by distresse brought low,
In hope to raise her state againe (fond dame)
In vaine doth wooe her daughter in my name:
Which heau’n abhorring hastens on my end,
And by my death preuents what I pretend.

62.

The royall virgin doth so much detest
My damn’d intent that I no grace can finde,
And daily newes my thoughts doe so molest
With foes inuasion, that my troubled minde
Is altogether vnto care inclinde:
Gainst those abrode that doe intend t’inuade,
While I prepare, at home I am betrai’d.

63.

At Nottingham, where then in court I lay,
Inform’d I was, that th’hated enemie
Had taken land, at which in much dismaie,
Turning my feare to rage, at last I crie
For vengeance on my subiects treacherie,
And forc’d to trie my cause by bloodie blowes,
I mustred vp my men to meete my foes.

64.

When that I heard where _Richmond_ did ariue,
I did digest my bands in battel ray:
In ranke forth marcht my footemen fiue and fiue,
Who in that order kept the readie way,
That led directly where earle _Richmond_ lay:
Then wings of horsemen coasting euerie side,
Did vnto bloodie battell boldly ride.

65.

In midst of whom, vpon a tall white steede
Mounted I sat with cruell countenance,
Still crying out, march on, march on with speede:
And in this sort without incumberance,
To Lecester we forward did aduance:
Through which we past to Bosworthe’s ample plaine,
Where I did end my wreched life and reigne.

66.

And there vpon an hill, _Anne Beame_ by name,
I downe did pight my standerd, and fast by
My campe in martiall order I did frame:
_Richmond_ fast by vs on the plaine did lie,
Next morne the chance of battell for to trie:
For it was euening ere we could attaine
To meete each other vpon Bosworth plaine.

67.

The sad night’s cold forerunner Vesper faire,
Dispreades her golden lockes in easterne skie:
Then courts of guard are set with speciall care,
Lest that our foes aduantage to espie,
In ambuskado neere should lurking lie:
And euery one with hearts to heau’n did pray
To scape the horror of th’approching day.

68.

The heau’ns that in eternall booke do keepe
The register, for life or deathe’s decree,
By vision strange did shew to me in sleepe,
That next daie’s cheerefull light the last should be,
That in this world I euermore should see:
As in my tent, on bed I slumbring lie,
Horrid aspects appear’d vnto mine eye.

69.

I thought that all those murthered ghosts, whom I
By death had sent to their vntimely graue,
With balefull noise about my tent did crie,
And of the heau’ns with sad complaint did craue,
That they on guiltie wretch might vengeance haue:
To whom I thought the Iudge of heau’n gaue eare,
And gainst me gaue a iudgement full of feare.

70.

For loe, eftsoones, a thousand hellish hags
Leauing th’abode of their infernall cell,
Seasing on me, my hatefull bodie drags
From forth my bed into a place like hell,
Where feends did naught but bellow, howle and yell,
Who in sterne strife stood gainst each other bent,
Who should my hatefull bodie most torment.

71.

Tormented in such trance long did I lie,
Till extreame feare did rouze me where I lay,
And caus’d me from my naked bed to flie:
Alone within my tent I durst not stay,
This dreadfull dreame my soule did so affray:
When wakte I was from sleepe, I for a space
Thought I had been in some infernall place.

72.

About mine eares a buzzing feare still flew,
My fainting knees languish for want of might,
Vpon my bodie stands an icie dew:
My heart is dead within, and with affright
The haire vpon my head doth stand vpright:
Each limbe about me quaking, doth resemble
A riuer’s rush, that with the wind doth tremble.

73.

Thus with my guiltie soule’s sad torture torne,
The darke night’s dismall houres I past away,
But at cocke’s crow the message of the morne,
My feare I did conceale, lest men should say
Our foes approch my courage did dismay:
And as dire need did me thereto constraine,
My troopes of men I marshall’d on the plaine.

74.

Who with swift concurse fill’d the smothred ground,
And did enranke themselues in braue array,
The foreward with bold bowmen did abound,
Commixt with pikes to beare the violent sway,
When on our front the foe should giue th’assay,
And to their forme in fight good heed to take,
_Iohn_ duke of _Northfolke_ chieftaine I did make.

75.

After this vantguard I my selfe did goe,
And round about me chosen men of might
Did range themselues to shield me from the foe,
Our skirts were lin’d with horse, and fit for fight,
Each place was stuft with men in armes well dight:
In this array I troopt my armed traine,
To meete earle _Richmond_ on the equall plaine.

76.

Who wisely did his folke to fight instruct,
_Iohn_ earle of _Oxford_ did the vaward lead,
The right wing _Gilbert Talbot_ did conduct,
The left wing sir _Iohn Sauage_, one that fled
From me to _Richmond_ for to saue his head:
_Richmond_ himselfe with _Pembrooke_ that stout knight,
The middle ward did lead vnto the fight.

77.

As thus both hosts stood each in other’s sight,
Expecting when the trumpe, whose blast doth breed
Courage in men, would call them forth to fight,
Arm’d in bright steele vpon a stately steed,
From ranke to ranke I rode about with speed,
And fit for fight my souldiers hearts to make,
Hie, and with courage thus to them I spake.

78.

“Fellowes in armes, and my aduenturous friends,
Giue heedfull eare to that which I shall say:
Be valiant hearted, thinke vpon the ends
Of fight or flight, of triumph or decay,
Both which the battell doth propose this day,
Th’one of which doth bring eternall fame,
The other ignomie and dastard shame.

79.

O thinke vpon the matchlesse valiancie
Of our forefathers deeds in former daies,
And let vs counterchecke the memorie
Of their stout acts by that immortall praise,
To which our deeds our names this day may raise:
Yea, let vs thinke gainst whom we come to fight,
The thought of which might cowards harts excite.

80.

First with our foe-men’s captaine to begin,
A weake Welch milke-sop, one that I do know
Was nere before for fight in battle seene,
Not able of himselfe as guide to goe
In marshall discipline against his foe:
But backt by his consorts, a sort of slaues,
Against his will vs now in field he braues.

81.

And for his company, a sort they bee
Of rascall French and British runawaies,
People far more couragious for to flee,
Then stand in fight, whose faint hearts former daies
Could witnesse to our land and their dispraise:
Who doubtlesse now shall by your valours die,
Or else at least from battell wounded flie.

82.

That bearing wounds vnto their natiue home,
Their fellowes may be strucke with heartlesse dread,
Fearing in future times againe to come
Into our kingdome with bold banners spred,
Gainst souldiers that in England’s bounds are bred:
Then courage, friends, think on renowne and fame
For which we fight, let cowards flie with shame.

83.

And as for me, assure your selues this day
I will triumph by glorious victorie,
Or win a lasting name for liue’s decay:
Take then example by my valiancie,
And boldly fight against your enemie:
You for your wiues and goods, I for my crowne,
Both for our countrie’s good, all for renowne.

84.

Aduance them captaines, forward to the fight,
Draw forth your swords, each man addresse his sheeld,
Hence faint conceites, die thoughts of coward flight,
To heauen your hearts, to fight your valours yeeld:
Behold our foes do braue vs in the field,
Vpon them friends, the cause is yours and mine,
Saint _George_ and conquest on our helmes doth shine.”

85.

This said, the dreadfull trumpet loudlie blowes,
To bring them forward to the furious fight,
Then did the bowmen bend their stift string’d bowes;
The souldiers buckled on their helmets bright;
The bilmen shooke their bils, and euerie wight
Did proue his fatall weapon on the ground,
Ready prepar’d his foemen to confound.

86.

The archers drew, the fatall fight began,
Thick flew the shafts, many to death were done:
Which once being spent, close ioyn’d they man to man:
Then did sterne slaughter through the battell runne;
Not any one at first his foe did shunne:
But equallie their heads they vp did beare
In fight, not stooping vnto seruile feare.

87.

Stout _Norfolke_ in the forefront boldlie stood,
Imploying deeds of death against the foe;
Not fear’d, in midst of dust, of death and blood,
Th’extreamest of his vtmost strength to show,
To winne his soueraigne’s weale by his owne woe:
Where he, braue lord, by friends vnkindlie left,
In manlie fight was of his life bereft.

88.

For in my cheefest hope to winne the day,
Appointed by the heauen’s most iust decree,
My souldiers in the forefront shranke away,
Which heauie newes declared was to mee
By one that counsel’d mee away to flee:
But I his counsell rashly did forsake,
And vnto him in furie thus I spake:

89.

“Curst be thy coward thoughts that thinke on flight,
And curst those traytors that are fled away:
I am resolu’d in this daie’s dreadfull fight,
To lose my life, or win a glorious day:
Flie those that will, for I am bent to stay:”
This said, my plum’d deckt helme I downe did close,
And with my eager launce made toward my foes.

90.

Hie was the furie of my desperate fight,
And like a tempest in a stormie day,
When I did see vnto my heart’s despight,
Where _Richmond’s_ standard stood without delay:
Through th’armed men to it I made my way,
The which, with _William Brandon_ that bold knight,
To ground I downe did cast in _Richmond’s_ sight.

91.

Many beneath my conquering strokes did fall,
Each one did flie from me with coward shame,
But one whom sir _Iohn Cheynie_ men did call,
Who for huge swinge of strength did beare the name
Of all the captaines that with _Richmond_ came,
Who single did my charge at first repell,
Though in the end beneath my sword he fell.

92.

But as with him alone in fight I stood,
Behold with foes I was incircled round,
Who did imbrue their swords in my deare blood,
Where mastered with the smart of many a woond,
I bleeding fell vnto the dustie ground:
Where cursing _Richmond_ and his conquering crue,
Thence in disdainfull sort my sad soule flew.

93.

I being slaine, those that for me did fight,
Turning their backes, away forthwith did flie,
In field my slaughtered bodie in despight,
Drag’d from the place where it did bleeding lie,
Was naked made to euery vassals eye,
Despoil’d of all those kingly robes I wore:
Thus they to Leicester my bodie bore.

94.

Behind a slaue vpon a halting iade
All naked as I was, hog-like I lay:
And in that sort with blood and dust array’d,
To Leicester they bore me, whence that day
To field I came in pompe and rich aray:
Where to the graue my bodie they commend:
Thus had my bloodie life a bloodie end.

95.

Th’ambitious prince, whose hand vniustly gripes
Another’s right to make himselfe a king,
Suffers the smart of many furies stripes:
Th’internall worme his conscience still doth sting,
His soule t’a fearefull iudgement death doth bring:
Of which let my vsurped royaltie,
Remaine a Mirrour in this historie.

96.

My storie told, I may no longer stay,
My grieued ghost doth smell the morning’s aire:
The night on sable wings flies fast away,
The houres in east expecting daies repaire,
On cloudie hill sets vp her siluer chaire?
My guiltie ghost her light may not behold,
Adew, remember well what I haue told.

“Our night is at an end,” quoth Memorie,
“With which we heere will end our historie:
After this tyrant’s fall, that dismall night,
Which did obscure this kingdome’s faire day-light,
Did take an end: heere some auspitious star
Twixt _Yorke_ and _Lancaster_ did end the iar,
Appointing _Richmond_ that Lancastrian knight,
T’inoculate his _Red Rose_ with the _White_:
Heere therefore with this blissefull vnitie,
We will shut vp our tragicke historie,
And thou, whose pen we do appoint to write
Those Mirrours past, which thou hast heard this night;
Awake from sleepe, and let thy willing pen
Set forth this dreame vnto the view of men.”
This said, with fame she vanisht from my sight,
This was the vision of a winter’s night.

FINIS.

END OF PART IV.

[THE

Mirrour for Magistrates,

AS]

ENGLANDS

ELIZA:

or

The Victoriovs and Trivmphant Reigne
_of that Virgin Empresse of_
sacred memorie,
_ELIZABETH_,
Queene of England, France and Ireland, &c.