To whom the duke began: "My lord, I know,
That both uncall'd, and unexpected too,
I have presumed in this sort to show,
And seek the right which I am born unto.
Yet pardon, I beseech you, and allow
Of that constraint which drives me thus to do.
For since I could not by a fairer course
Attain mine own, I must use this of force."

"Well; so it seems, dear cousin," said the king:
"Though you might have procur'd it otherwise:
And I am here content in ev'ry thing
To right you, as yourself shall best devise.
And God vouchsafe, the force that here you bring
Beget not England greater injuries."
And so they part.—The duke made haste from
It was no place to end this difference.
[thence;

Straight towards London, in this heat of pride,
They forward set, as they had fore-decreed;
With whom the captive king, constrain'd, must ride,
Most meanly mounted on a simple steed:
Degraded of all grace and ease beside,
Thereby neglect of all respect to breed.
For th' over-spreading pomp of prouder might
Must darken weakness, and debase his sight.

Approaching near the city, he was met
With all the sumptuous shows joy could devise;
Where new desire to please did not forget
To pass the usual pomp of former guise.
Striving Applause, as out of prison let,
Runs on, beyond all bounds, to novelties;
And voice, and hands, and knees and all do now
A strange deformed form of welcome show.

And manifold confusion running, greets, [near:
Shouts, cries, claps hands, thrusts, trives, and presses
Houses impov'rish'd were t' enrich the streets,
And streets left naked, that (unhappy) were
Plac'd from the sight where joy with wonder meets;
Where all of all degrees strive to appear;
Where divers-speaking zeal one murmur finds,
In undistinguish'd voice to tell their minds.
He that in glory of his fortune sat,
Admiring what he thought could never be,
Did feel his blood within salute his state,
And lift up his rejoicing soul, to see
So many hands and hearts congratulate
Th' advancement of his long-desir'd degree;
When, prodigal of thanks, in passing by,
He re-salutes them all with cheerful eye.
Behind him, all aloof, came pensive on
The unregarded king; that drooping went
Alone, and (but for spite) scarce look'd upon :
Judge, if he did more envy, or lament!
See what a wondrous work this day is done!
Which th' image of both fortunes doth present;
In th' one to show the best of glory's face,
In th' other, worse than worst of all disgrace.

Now Isabel, the young afflicted queen,
(Whose years had never show'd her but delights,
Nor lovely eyes before had ever seen
Other than smiling joys, and joyful sights:

Born great, match'd great, liv'd great, and ever been
Partaker of the world's best benefits)

Had plac'd her self, hearing her lord should pass That way, where she unseen in secret was;

Sick of delay, and longing to behold
Her long-miss'd love in fearful jeopardies:
To whom although it had in sort been told
Of their proceeding, and of his surprise;
Yet thinking they would never be so bold,
To lead their lord in any shameful wise;
But rather would conduct him as their king,
As sceking but the state's re-ordering.

And forth she lookes, and notes the foremost trais;
And grieves to view some there she wish'd not there
Seeing the chief not come, stays, looks again;
And yet she sees not him that should appear.
Then back she stands; and then desires, as fain
Again to look, to see if he were near.

At length a glitt'ring troop far off she spies;
Perceives the throng, and hears the shouts and cries

"Lo yonder! now at length he comes," saith she:
"Look, my good women, where he is in sight.
Do you not see him? yonder; that is be!
Mounted on that white courser, all in white;
There where the thronging troops of people be.
I know him by his seat: he sits upright.
Lo, now he bows! dear lord, with what sweet grace!
How long have I long'd to behold that face!

"O what delight my heart takes by mine eye!

I doubt me when he comes but something near,

I shall set wide the window-what care I
Who doth see me, so him I may see clear ?”
Thus doth false joy delude her wrongfully
(Sweet lady) in the thing she held so dear:
For, nearer come, she finds she had mistook,
And him she mark'd was Henry Bolingbroke.

Then Envy takes the place in her sweet eyes,
Where Sorrow had prepar'd herself a scat; [rise,
And words of wrath, from whence complaints should
Proceed from eager looks, and brows that threat:
"Traitor," saith she," is 't thou, that in this wise
To brave thy lord and king art made so great?
And have mine eyes done unto me this wrong,
To look on thee? for this stay'd I so long?

"Ah! have they grac'd a perjur'd rebel so ?
Well! for their errour I will weep them out.
And hate the tongue defil'd, that prais'd my for;
And loath the mind, that gave me not to doubt.
What! have I added shame unto my woe?
I'll look no more-Ladies, look you about;
And tell me if my lord be in this train;
Lest my betraying eyes should err again.”

And in this passion turns herself away.
The rest look all, and careful note each wight;
Whilst she, impatient of the least delay,
Demands again: "And what; not yet in sight?
Where is my lord? what! gone some other way?
I muse at this-O God, grant all go right!"
Then to the window goes again at last,
And sees the chiefest train of all was past;

And sees not him her soul desir'd to see:
And yet hope spent makes her not leave to look.
At last her love-quick eyes, which ready be,
Fastens on one; whom though she never took
Could be her lord; yet that sad cheer which he
Then show'd, his habit and his woful look,
The grace he doth in base attire retain,
Caus'd her she could not from his sight refrain.

"But stay: is 't not my lord himself I see?
In truth, if 't were not for his base array,
I verily should think that it were he:
And yet his baseness doth a grace bewray.
Yet God forbid-let me deceived be:
And be it not my lord, although it may:
Let my desire make vows against desire;
And let my sight approve my sight a liar.

"Let me not see him but himself, a king:
For so he left me-so he did remove.
This is not he-this feels some other thing;
A passion of dislike, or else of love.

O yes, 't is he!-That princely face doth bring
The evidence of majesty to prove :

That face I have conferr'd which now I see, With that within my heart, and they agree."

Thus as she stood assur'd, and yet in doubt;
Wishing to see, what seen she griev'd to see;
Having belief, yet fain would be without;
Knowing, yet striving not to know 't was he:
Her heart relenting; yet her heart so stout,
As would not yield to think what was, could be;
Till quite condemn'd by open proof of sight,
She must confess, or else deny the light.
For whether love in him did sympathize,
Or chance so wrought to manifest her doubt;
Ev'n just before where she thus secret pries,
He stays, and with clear face looks all about.
When she-"'T is, O! too true-I know his eyes:
Alas! it is my own dear lord"-cries out:
And with that cry sinks down upon the floor;
Abundant grief lack'd words to utter more.

Sorrow keeps full possession in her heart;
Locks it within; stops up the way of breath;
Shuts senses out of door from ev'ry part;
And so long holds there, as it hazardeth
Oppressed nature, and is forc'd to part,
Or else must be constrain'd to stay with death:
So by a sigh it lets in sense again,

And sense at length gives words leave to explain.

Then like a torrent had been stopt before,
Tears, sighs, and words, doubled together flow;
Confus'dly striving whether should do more,
The true intelligence of grief to show.
Sighs hinder'd words; words perish'd in their store;
Both, intermix'd in one, together grow.
One would do all; the other more than 's part;
Being both sent equal agents from the heart.

At length, when past the first of sorrows worst,
When calm'd confusion better form affords;
Her heart commends, her words should pass out first,
And then her sighs should interpoint her words;
The whiles her eyes out into tears should burst.
This order with her sorrow she accords;
Which orderless, all form of order brake;
So then began her words, and thus she spake :

Are these the triumphs for thy victories?
Is this the glory thou dost bring with thee,
From that unhappy Irish enterprise?
And have I made so many vows to see
Thy safe return, and see thee in this wise?
Is this the look'd-for comfort thou dost bring;
To come a captive, that went'st out a king?
"And yet, dear lord, though thy ungrateful land,
Hath left thee thus; yet I will take thy part.
I do remain the same, under thy hand;
Thou still dost rule the kingdom of my heart:
If all be lost, that government doth stand;
And that shall never from thy rule depart.
And so thou be, I care not how thou be:
Let greatness go, so it go without thee.
"And welcome come, howso unfortunate;
I will applaud what others do despise.

I love thee for thyself, not for thy state:
More than thyself is what without thee lies;
Let that more go, if it be in thy fate;
And having but thyself, it will suffice.
I married was not to thy crown, but thee;
And thou, without a crown, all one to me.
"But what do I here lurking idly moan,
And wail apart; and in a single part
Make several grief? which should be both in oue;
The touch being equal of each other's heart.
Ah! no, sweet lord, thon must not moan alone;
For without me thou art not all thou art;
Nor my tears without thine are fully tears,
For thus unjoin'd, sorrow but half appears.

"Join then our plaints, and make our grief full grief;
Our state being one, let us not part our care:
Sorrow hath only this poor bare relief,
To be bemoan'd of such as woful are.
And should I rob thy grief, and be the thief,
To steal a private part, and sev'ral share;
Defrauding sorrow of her perfect due?
No, no, my lord; I come to help thee rue."
Then forth she goes a close concealed way,
(As grieving to be seen not as she was)
Labours t' attain his presence all she may;
Which, with most hard ado was brought to pass.
For that night understanding where he lay,
With earnest 'treating she procur'd her pass,
To come to him. Rigour could not deny
Those tears, (so poor a suit) or put her by.

Entring the chamber, where he was alone,
(As one whose former fortune was his shame)
Loathing th' upbraiding eye of any one
That knew him once, and knows him not the same:
When having given express command that none
Should press to him; yet hearing some that came,
Turns angrily about his grieved eyes;
When lo! his sweet afflicted queen he spies.

Straight clears his brow, and with a borrow'd smile;
"What! my dear queen! welcome, my dear," he
And (striving his own passion to beguile, [says:
And hide the sorrow which his eye betrays)
Could speak no more; but wrings her hands the
while :

And then-"Sweet lady!" and again he stays.
Th' excess of joy and sorrow both affords
Affliction none, or but poor riggard words.

She that was come with a resolved heart,
And with a mouth full stor'd, with words well chose;
Thinking, "this comfort will I first impart
Unto my lord, and thus my speech dispose:
Then thus I'll say; thus look; and with this art,
Hide mine own sorrow, to relieve his woes."
When being come, all this prov'd nought but wind;
Tears, looks, and sighs, do only tell her mind.

Thus both stood silent, and confused so,

Their eyes relating how their hearts did mourn:
Both big with sorrow, and both great with woe,
In labour with what was not to be born;
This mighty burthen wherewithal they go,
Dies undeliver'd, perishes unborn.
Sorrow makes silence her best orator,

Where words may make it less, not show it more.

But he, whom longer time had learn'd the art
T endure affliction, as a usual touch,
Strains forth his words, and throws dismay apart,
To raise up her, whose passions now were such
As quite oppress'd her over-charged heart,
(Too small a vessel to contain so much;)
And cheers, and moans, and feigned hopes doth
As if himself believ'd, or hop'd the same. [frame,

And now the while these princes sorrowed,
Forward Ambition (come so near her end)
Sleeps not, nor slips th' occasion offered,
T'accomplish what it did before intend.
A parliament is forthwith summoned

In Richard's name; whereby they might pretend
A form to grace disorder, and a show
Of holy right, the right to overthrow.

Order, how much predominant art thou!
That if but only thou pretended art,
How soon deceiv'd mortality doth bow,
To follow thine, as still the better part?
'Tis thought that rev'rent Form will not allow
Iniquity, or sacred right pervert.

Within our souls since then thou dwell'st so strong,
How ill do they, that use thee, to do wrong?

So ill did they, that in this formal course
Sought to establish a deformed right;
Who might as well effected it by force,

But that men hold it wrong what 's wrought by
Offences urg'd in public, are made worse: [might.
The show of justice aggravates despite.
"The multitude that look not to the cause,
Rest satisfy'd so it seem done by laws."

And now they divers articles object,
Of rigour, malice, private favourings,
Exaction, riot, falsehood, and neglect;
Crimes done, but seldom answered by kings;
Which subjects do lament, but not correct.
And all these faults which Lancaster now brings
Against a king, must be his own, when he
By urging others' sins, a king shall be.

For all that was most odious was devis'd,
And publish'd in these articles abroad:

All th' errours of his youth were here compris'd,
Calamity with obloquy to load,

And more to make him publicly despis'd,
Libels, invectives, railing rhymes were sow'd
Among the vulgar, to prepare his fall

With more applause, and good consent of all,

Look how the day-hater, Minerva's bird",
Whilst privileg'd with darkness and the night,
Doth live secure t' himself, of others fear'd:
If but by chance discover'd in the light,
How doth each little fowl (with envy stirr'd)
Call him to justice, urge him with despite ;
Summon the feather'd flocks of all the wood,
To come to scorn the tyrant of their blood?

So fares this king, laid open to disgrace,
Whilst ev'ry mouth (full of reproach) inveighs,
And ev'ry base detractor, in this case,
Upon th' advantage of misfortune plays:
Down-falling greatness, urged on apace,
Was follow'd hard by all disgraceful ways,
Now in th' point t' accelerate an end,
Whilst misery had no means to defend.

Upon those articles in parliament,

So heinous made, enforc'd, and urg'd so hard,
He was adjudg'd unfit for government,
And of all regal pow'r and rule debarr'd:
For who durst contradict the duke's intent?
Or if they durst, should patiently be heard?
Desire of change, old wrongs, new hopes, fresh fear,
Being far the major part, the cause must bear.

Yet must we think, that some which saw the course,
(The better few, whom passion made not blind)
Stood careful lookers on, with sad commorse,
Amaz'd to see what headlong rage design'd;
And in a more considerate discourse

Of tragical events, thereof divin'd;

And would excuse and pity those defects,
Which with such hate the adverse part objects:

Saying, "Better years might work a better care;
And time might well have cur'd what was amiss;
Since all these faults fatal to greatness are,
And worse deserts have not been punish'd thus.
But yet in this, the Heavens (we fear) prepare
Confusion for our sins, as well as his;

And his calamity beginneth our:

For he his own, and we abus'd his pow'r."

Thus murmur'd they: when to the king were sent
Certain, who might persuade him to forsake
And leave his crown, and with his free consent
A voluntary resignation make;

Since that he could no other way prevent
These dangers, which he else must needs partake.
For not to yield to what fear would constrain,
Would bar the hope of life that did remain.

And yet this scarce could work him to consent
To yield up that so soon, men hold so dear:

66

Why, let him take," said he, "the government
And let me yet the name, the title bear.
Leave me that show, and I will be content;
And let them rule and govern without fear.
What! can they not my shadow now endure;
When they, of all the rest, do stand secure?

"Let me hold that, I ask no other good:
Nay, that I will hold-Henry, do thy worst.
For ere I yield my crown, I'll lose my blood;
That blood, that shall make thee and thine accurs'd.'
Thus resolute awhile he firmly stood;
Till love of life, and fear of being fore'd,

11 The owl is said to be Minerva's bird.

Vanquish'd th' innated valour of his mind;
And hope and friends so wrought, that he resign'd.

Then to the Tow'r (where he remained) went
The duke, with all the peers in company,
To take his offer with his free consent,
And this his resignation testify;
And thereof to inform the parliament,

That all things might be done more formally,
And men thereby rest better satisfy'd,
As of an act not forc'd or falsify'd.

And forth he 's brought unto th' accomplishment,
Deck'd with the crown in princely robes that day:
Like as the dead, in other lands, are sent
Unto their graves in all their best array.
And ev'n like good did him this ornament:
For what he brought he must not bear away;
But buries there his glory and his name,
Entomb'd both in his own and others' blame.

And there unto th' assembly of these states,
His sorrow for their long-endured wrong
Through his abus'd authority, relates,
Excuses with confessions mix'd among :
And glad (he says) to finish all debates,
He was to leave the rule they sought for long;
Protesting, if it might be for their good,
He would as gladly sacrifice his blood.

There he his subjects all in general
Assoils, and quits of oath and fealty;
Renounces int'rest, title, right, and all
That appertain❜d to kingly dignity:
Subscribes thereto, and doth to witness call

[high,

Both Heav'n and Earth, and God, and saints on
To testify his act; and doth profess
To do the same with most free willingness.

"T is said, with his own hands he gave the crown
To Lancaster, and wish'd to God he might
Have better joy thereof than he had known;
And that his pow'r might make it his by right.
And furthermore he crav'd (of all his own)
But life, to live apart a private wight:
The vanity of greatness he had try'd,
And how unsurely stands the foot of pride.

This brought to pass, the lords return with speed,
The parliament hereof to certify;

Where they at large publish'd the king's own deed,
And form of his resignment verbally:
And thereupon doth Lancaster proceed,
To make his claim unto the monarchy;
And shows the right he hath, both by descent,
And by recov'ry, to the government.

Which being granted, Canterbury 12 rose,
And animates them by the sacred word
In this their course: and by his text he shows
"How well they made their choice of such a lord;
Who, as a man, was able to dispose,
And guide the state: and how the royal sword
Ought to be at a man's commandment;
Not at a child's, or one as impotent.

12 The archbishop of Canterbury takes his text out of the first book of Kings, chap. ix. Vir dominabitur in populo.

"Since when the greatness of his charge exceeds
The smallness of his pow'rs, he must collate
The same on others-whence," says he, "proceeds
This rav'nous expilation of the state:
Whence no man any more the public heeds,
Than so much as imports his private state.
Our health is from our head: if that be ill,
Distemper'd, faint, and weak, all the rest will."

Then to the present all his speech he draws,
And shows "what admirable parts abound
In this brave prince; being fit to give them laws;
Fit for his valour; fit for judgment sound."
And Lancaster, indeed I would thy cause
Had had as lawful and as sure a ground,
As had thy virtues and thy noble heart,
Ordain'd and born for an imperial part.

Then had not that confus'd succeeding age
Our fields ingrain'd with blood, our rivers dy'd
With purple-streaming wounds of our own rage,
Nor seen our princes slaughter'd, peers destroy'd.
Then had'st not thou, dear country, com'd to wage
War with thyself, nor those afflictions try'd
Of all-consuming discord here so long;
Too mighty now, against thyself too strong.

THE

HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WAR.

BOOK III.

THE ARGUMENT.

Henry the Fourth the crown established.
The lords that did to Gloc'ster's death consent,
Degraded, do rebel; are vanquished.
King Richard unto Pomfret castle sent,
Is by a cruel knight there murthered,
After the lords had had their punishment.
His corps from hence to London is convey'd ;
And there, for all to view, is open laid.

Now risen is that head, by which did spring
The birth of two strong heads, two crowns, two
rights;

That monstrous shape, that afterward did bring
Deform'd confusion to distracted wights.
Now is attain'd that dearly purchas'd thing,
That fill'd the world with lamentable sights;
And now attain'd, all care is how to frame
Means to establish, and to hold the same.

First, he attends to build a strong conceit
Of his usurped pow'r in peoples' minds,
And arms his cause with furniture of weight;
Which easily the sword and greatness finds.
Succession, conquest, and election straight
Suggested are, and prov'd in all their kinds.
More than enough they find, who find their might
Hath force to make all (that they will have) right.