But now this great succeeder 12 all repairs,
And reinduc'd that discontinu'd good;

He builds up strength and greatness for his heirs,
Out of the virtues that adorn'd his blood.

He makes his subjects lords of more than theirs, And sets their bounds far wider than they stood. His pow'r and fortune had sufficient wrought, Could but the state have kept what he had got.

And had his heir 13 surviv'd him in due course, What limits, England, had'st thou found? What bar?

What world could have resisted so great force?
O more than men! (two thunderbolts of war)
Why did not time your joined worth divorce,
T" have made your several glories greater far?
Too prodigal was Nature thus to do,

To spend in one age what should serve for two.

But now the sceptre in this glorious state,
Supported with strong pow'r and victory,
Was left unto a child 14; ordain'd by Fate
To stay the course of what might grow too high:
Here with a stop that greatness did abate,
When pow'r upon so weak a base did lie.
For, lest great fortune should presume too far,
Such oppositions interposed are.

Never this island better peopled stood;
Never more men of might, and minds address'd;
Never inore princes of the royal blood,
(If not too many for the public rest)

Nor ever was more treasure, wealth, and good,
Than when this Richard first the crown possess'd,
The second of that name; in two accurs'd;
And well we might have miss'd all but the first.

In this man's reign began this fatal strife,
(The bloody argument whereof we treat)
That dearly cost so many a prince his life,
And spoil'd the weak; and even consum'd the great;
That, wherein all confusion was so rife,
As Memory ev'n grieves her to repeat:

The other, Langley 17; whose mild temperateness
Did tend unto a calmer quietness.

With these did Woodstock 19 interpose his part;
A man for action violently bent,
And of a spirit averse and over-thwart,
Which could not suit a peaceful government:
Whose ever-swelling and tumultuous heart
Wrought his own ill, and others discontent.
During the time the king was under years.
And these had all the manage of affairs,

And in the first years of his government,
Things pass'd at first: the wars in France proceed,
Though not with that same fortune and event,
Being now not follow'd with such careful heed :
Our people here at home grown discontent,
Through great exactions insurrections breed:
Private respects hinder'd the common-weal;
And idle ease doth on the mighty steal.

Too many kings breed factions in the court;
The head too weak, the members grown too great:
Which evermore doth happen in this sort [threat
When children rule; the plague which God doth
Unto those kingdoms, which he will transport
To other lines, or utterly defeat.
"For, the ambitious once inur'd to reign,
Can never brook a private state again.

"And kingdoms ever suffer this distress,
Where one, or many, guide the infant king;
Which one, or many, (tasting this excess
Of greatness and command) can never bring
Their thoughts again t' obey, or to be less:
From hence these insolencies ever spring,
Contempt of others, whom they seek to foil;
Then follow leagues, destruction, ruin, spoil."

And whether they which underwent this charge
Permit the king to take a youthful vein,
That they their private better might enlarge:

But that 't is good to learn by others' woes.

Edward the Third being dead, had left this child 's (Son of his worthy son deceas'd of late)

The crown and sceptre of this realm to wield;
Appointing the protectors of his state
Two of his sons to be his better shield;
Supposing uncles, free from guile or hate,
Would order all things for his better good,
In the respect and honour of their blood.
Of these, John duke of Lancaster 16
(Too great a subject grown for such a state:
The title of a king, and glory won
In great exploits, his mind did elevate
Above proportion kingdoms stand upon;
Which made him push at what his issue gat :)

12 1326. Edward III.

was one;

Or rather else they all were in the fault;
Th' ambitious uncles, th' indiscreet young king,
The greedy council, and the minions naught,
And all together did this tempest bring.
Besides the times, with all injustice fraught,
Concurr'd with such confus'd misgoverning;
That we may truly say, "this spoil'd the state,
Youthful counsel, private gain, partial hate.”

And then the king, besides his jealousies
Which nourish'd were, had reason to be led
To doubt his uncles for their loyalties;
Since John of Gaunt (as was discovered)
Had practised his death in secret wise;
And Gloc'ster openly becomes the head
Unto a league, who all in arms were bent
T'oppose against the present government;

Pretending to remove such men as were
Accounted to abuse the king and state.
Of whom the chief they did accuse was Veere",
Made duke of Ireland with great grace of late;
And divere else 20, who for the place they bear
Obnoxious are, and subject unto hate :
And these must be sequester'd with all speed,
Or else they vow'd their swords should do the deed.

The king was forc'd in that next parliament,
To grant them what he durst not well refuse.
For thither arm'd they came, and fully bent
To suffer no repulse, nor no excuse:
And here they did accomplish their intent;
Where Justice did her sword, not balance, use:
For e'en that sacred place they violate,
Arresting all the judges as they sat.

And here had many worthy men their end,
Without all form, or any course of right.
"For still these broils, that public good pretend,
Work most injustice, being done through spite.
For those aggrieved evermore do bend
Against such as they see of greatest might;
Who, though they cannot help what will go ill,
Yet since they may do wrong, are thought they
will."

And yet herein I mean not to excuse
The justices and minions of the king,
(Who might their office and their grace abuse)
But blame the course held in the managing.
"For great men over grac'd, much rigour use;
Presuming favourites discontentment bring;
And disproportions harmony do break;
Minions too great, argue a king too weak."

19 Robert Veere, duke of Ireland.

20 Ann. reg. 11. the duke of Gloucester, with the earls of Darby, Arundel, Nottingham, Warwick, and other lords, having forced the king to put from him all his officers of court at this parliament, caused most of them to be executed; as John Beauchamp, lord steward of his house, sir Simon Burley, lord chamberlain, with many other. the lord chief justice was here executed, and all the judges condemned to death, for maintaining the king's prerogative against these lords, and the constitutions of the last parliament, ann. 10.

Also

"And this is sure, though his offence be such,
Yet doth calamity attract commorse;
And men repine at princes bloodshed much,
(How just soever) judging 't is by force.

I know not how, their death gives such a touch,
In those that reach not to a true discourse;
As so shall you, observing formal right,
Be held still as unjust and win more spite.

"And oft the cause may come prevented so;
And therefore when 't is done, let it be heard:
For thereby shall you 'scape your private woe,
And satisfy the world too afterward.

What need you weigh the rumours that shall go?
What is that breath, being with your life compar'd?
And therefore, if you will be rul'd by me,
In secret sort let him dispatched be.

"And then arraign the chief of those you find
Were of his faction secretly compact;
Who may so well be handled in their kind,
As their confessions, which you shall exact,
May both appease the aggrieved peoples mind,
And make their death to aggravate their fact:
So shall you rid yourself of dangers quite,

And show the world, that you have done but right."

This counsel, uttered unto such an ear
As willing listens to the safest ways,
Works on the yielding matter of his fear,
Which easily to any course obeys:
For every prince, seeing his danger near,
By any means his quiet peace assays.
"And still the greatest wrongs that ever were,
Have then been wrought, when kings were put in
fear."

Call'd in with public pardon and release 24,
The duke of Gloc'ster, with his complices;
All tumults, all contentions seem to cease,
The land rich, people pleas'd, all in happiness;
When suddenly Gloc'ster came caught with peace,
Warwick with proffer'd love and promises,
And Arundel was in with cunning brought,
Who else abroad his safety might have wrought.

Long was it not ere Gloc'ster was convey'd
To Calice 25, and there strangled secretly:
Warwick and Arundel close prisoners laid,
Th' especial men of his confederacy;

Yet Warwick's tears and base confessions staid
The doom of death, and came confin'd thereby,
And so prolongs this not long base-begg'd breath;
But Arundel was put to public death.

Which public death (receiv'd with such a chear,
As not a sigh, a look, a shrink bewrays
The least felt touch of a degenerous fear)
Gave life to envy, to his courage praise;
And made his stout defended cause appear
With such a face of right, as that it lays

The side of wrong t'wards him, who had long since By parliament 26 forgiven this offence.

And in the unconceiving vulgar sort,
Such an impression of his goodness gave,
As sainted him, and rais'd a strange report
Of miracles effected on his grave:
Although the wise (whom zeal did not transport)
"Knew how each great example still must have
Something of wrong, a taste of violence,
Wherewith the public quiet doth dispense."

The king forthwith provides him of a guard,
A thousand archers daily to attend ;
Which now upon the act he had prepar'd,
As th' argument his actions to defend :
But yet the world hereof conceiv'd so hard,
That all this nought avail'd him in the end.
"In vain with terror is he fortified,
That is not guarded with firm love beside,"

Now storm his grieved uncles, though in vain,
Not able better courses to advise:
They might their grievance inwardly complain,'
But outwardly they needs must temporise.
The king was great; and they should nothing gain
T' attempt revenge, or offer once to rise: [strong,
This league with France had made him now so
That they must needs as yet endure this wrong.

For like a lion that escapes his bounds,
Having been long restrain'd his use to stray,
Ranges the restless woods, stays on no ground,
Riots with bloodshed, wantons on his prey;
Seeks not for need, but in his pride to wound,
Glorying to see his strength, and what he may :
So this unbridled king, (freed of his fears)
In liberty, himself thus wildly bears.

For standing now alone, he sees his might
Out of the compass of respective awe;
And now begins to violate all right,
While no restraining fear at hand he saw.
Now he exacts of all, wastes in delight,
Riots in pleasure, and neglects the law:
He thinks his crown is licens'd to do ill:
"That less should list, that may do what it will."

Thus being transported in this sensual course;
No friend to warn, no counsel to withstand,
He still proceedeth on from bad to worse,
Sooth'd in all actions that he took in hand 27,
By such as all impiety did nurse,
Commending ever what he did command.
"Unhappy kings! that never may be taught
"To know themselves, or to discern their fault."

And whilst this course did much the kingdom daunt,
The duke of Her'ford 28 being of courage bold,
As son and heir to mighty John of Gaunt,
Utters the passion which he could not hold,
Concerning those oppressions, and the want
Of government; which he to Norfolk 29 told,

26 The king had by parliament before pardoned the duke, and these two earls; yet was the pardon revoked.

27

..... Nihil est quod credere de se non possit, cùm laudatur, Diis æqua potestas. 28 Henry Bolingbroke of Hereford. 29 Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk.

To th' end he (being great about the king)
Might do some good, by better counselling.

Hereof doth Norfolk presently take hold,
And to the king the whole discourse relate:
Who not conceiting it as it was told,
But judging it proceeded out of hate,
Disdaining deeply to be so controll'd;
That others should his rule prejudicate,
Charg'd Her'ford therewithal: who re-accus'd
Norfolk, for words of treason he had us'd.

Norfolk denies them peremptorily;
Her'ford recharg'd, and supplicates the king
To have the combat of his enemy,
That by his sword he might approve the thing.
Norfolk desires the same as earnestly:
And both with equal courage menacing
Revenge of wrong, that none knew which was free:
For times of faction times of slander be.

The combat granted, and the day assign'd,
They both in order of the field appear,
Most richly furnish'd in all martial kind,
And at the point of intercombat were;
When lo! the king chang'd suddenly his mind,
Casts down his warder, to arrest them there;
As being advis'd a better way to take,
Which might for his more certain safety make.

For now considering (as it likely might)
The victory might hap on Her'ford's side,
(A man most valiant, and of noble sprite,
Belov'd of all, and ever worthy try'd ;)
How much he might be grac'd in public sight,
By such an act, as might advance his pride,
And so become more popular by this;
Which he fears too much he already is.

And therefore he resolves to banish both 30,
Though th' one in chiefest favour with him stood,
A man he dearly lov'd; and might be loth
To leave him, that had done him so much good:
Yet having cause to do as now he doth,
To mitigate the envy of his blood,
Thought best to lose a friend to rid a foe,
And such a one as now he doubted so.

And therefore to perpetual exile he
Mowbray condemns; Her'ford for but ten years:
Thinking (for that the wrong of this decree,
Compar'd with greater rigour, less appears)
It might of all the better liked be.
But yet such murm'ring of the fact he hears,
That he is fain four of the ten forgive,
And judg'd him six years in exile to live.

At whose departure hence out of the land,
How did the open multitude reveal
The wondrous love they bare him under-hand!
Which now in this hot passion of their zeal
They plainly show'd, that all might understand
How dear he was unto the common-weal.
They fear'd not to exclaim against the king,
As one that sought all good men's ruining.

Mowbray was banished the very day (by the course of the year) whereon he murthered the duke of Glocester.

"Are we lock'd up, poor souls, here to abide
Within the watry prison of thy waves,
As in a fold, where, subject to the pride
And lust of rulers, we remain as slaves;
Here in the reach of Might, where none can hide
From th' eye of Wrath, but only in their graves?
Happy confiners you of other lands,

That sift your soil, and oft 'scape tyrants hands.

"And must we leave him here, whom here were fit
We should retain, the pillar of our state?
Whose virtues well deserve to govern it,
And not this wanton young effeminate.
Why should not he in regal honour sit,
That best knows how a realm to ordinate?
But one day yet we hope thou shalt bring back
(Dear Bolingbroke) the justice that we lack."

Thus mutter'd (lo!) the malecontented sort,
That love kings best before they have them still,
And never can the present state comport,
But would as often change as they change will.
For this good duke had won them in this sort,
By succ'ring them, and pitying of their ill;
That they supposed straight it was one thing,
To be both a good man and a good king.

When as the graver sort that saw the course,
And knew that princes may not be controll❜d,
Lik'd well to suffer this, for fear of worse;
"Since many great one kingdom cannot hold.”
For now they saw intestine strife of force
The apt-divided state entangle would,

If he should stay whom they would make their bead,
By whom the vulgar body might be led.

They saw likewise, "that princes oft are fain
To buy their quiet with the price of wrong :”
And better 't were that now a few complain,
Than all should mourn, as well the weak as strong;
Seeing still how little realms by change do gain:
And therefore learned by observing long,
"T'admire times past, follow the present will;
Wish for good princes, but t' endure the ill.”

For when it nought avails, what folly then
To strive against the current of the time?
Who will throw down himself, for other men,
That make a ladder by his fall to climb?
Or who would seek t' embroil his country, when
He might have rest; suff`ring but others crime?
"Since wise men ever have preferred far
Th' unjustest peace before the justest war."
Thus they consider'd, that in quiet sat,
Rich, or content, or else unfit to strive;
Peace-lover Wealth, hating a troublous state,
Doth willing reasons for their rest contrive:
But if that all were thus considerate,
How should in court the great, the favour'd thrive ?
Factions must be, and these varieties;
And some must fall, that other some may rise,

But long the duke remair'd not in exile,
Before that John of Gaunt, his father, dies:

Upon whose 'state the king seiz'd now, this while
Disposing of it as his enemy's.

This open wrong no longer could beguile
The world, that saw these great indignities:
Which so exasperates the minds of all,
That they resolv'd him home again to call.

For now they saw 't was malice in the king,
(Transported in his ill-conceited thought)
That made him so to prosecute the thing
Against all law, and in a course so naught.
And this advantage to the duke did bring
More fit occasions, whereupon he wrought.
"For to a man so strong, and of such might,
He gives him more, that takes away his right.”

The king", in this mean time, (I know not how)
Was drawn into some actions forth the land,
T' appease the Irish, that revolted now:
And there attending what he had in hand,
Neglects those parts from whence worse dangers
As ignorant how his affairs did stand.
Whether the plot was wrought it should be so,
Or that his fate did draw him on to go,

[grow,

Most sure it is that he committed here
An ignorant and idle oversight;
Not looking to the duke's proceedings there,
Being in the court of France, where best he might;
Where both the king and all assured were
T have stopt his course, being within their right:
But now he was exil'd, he thought him sure;
And, free from farther doubting, liv'd secure.

So blinds the sharpest counsels of the wise
This overshadowing Providence on high,
And dazzleth all their clearest-sighted eyes,
That they see not how nakedly they lie.
There where they little think, the storm doth rise,
And overcasts their clear security;

When man hath stopt all ways, save only that
Which (as least doubted) ruin enters at.

And now was all disorder in th' excess,
And whatsoever doth a change portend;
As idle luxury, and wantonness,
Porteus-like varying pride, vain without end;
Wrong-worker Riot (motive to oppress)
Endless exactions which the idle spend,
Consuming usury, and credits crack'd,
Call'd on this purging war that many lack'd.
Then ill-persuading want, in martial minds,
And wronged patience, (long oppress'd with might)
Looseness in all, (which no religion binds)
Commanding force, (the measure made of right)
Gave fuel to this fire; that easy finds
The way t' inflame, the whole endanger'd quite.
These were the public breeders of this war,
By which still greatest states confounded are.
For now this peace with France had shut in here
The overgrowing humours wars do spend :
For where t' evacuate no employments were,
Wider th' unweildy burthen doth distend.
Men wholly us'd to war, peace could not bear,
As knowing no other course whereto to bend;
31 Anno regni 22.

For brought up in the broils of these two rea'ms, They thought best fishing still in troubled streams.

Like to a river that is stopt his course,
Doth violate his banks, breaks his own bed,
Destroys his bounds, and over-runs by force
The neighbour-fields, irregularly spread;
Even so this sudden stop of war doth nurse
Home-broils within it self, from others led:
So dangerous the change hereof is try'd,
Ere minds 'come soft, or otherwise employ'd.,

But all this makes for thee, O Bolingbroke,
To work a way unto thy sovereignty:
This care the Heavens, Fate, and Fortune took,
To bring thee to thy sceptre easily.
Upon thee falls that hap which him forsook;
Who, crown'd a king, a king yet must not die.
Thou wert ordain'd by Providence to raise
A quarrel, lasting longer than thy days.

For now this absent lord out of his land,
(Where though he show'd great sprite and valour
Being attended with a worthy band [then,
Of valiant peers, and most courageous men)
Gave time to them at home, that had in hand
Th' ungodly work, and knew the season when;
Who fail not to advise the duke with speed,
Soliciting to what he soon agreed.

Who presently, upon so good report,
Relying on his friends fidelity,

Conveys himself out of the French king's court,
Under pretence to go to Britany;

And with his followers that to him resort,
Landed in England"; welcom'd joyfully
Of th' alt'ring vulgar, apt for changes still,
As headlong carry'd with a present will.

And com'ng to quiet shore, but not to rest,
The first night of his joyful landing here,
A fearful vision 33 doth his soul molest;
Seeming to see in rev'rent form appear
A fair and goodly woman all distrest;
Which, with full-weeping eyes and rented hair,
Wringing ber hands, as one that griev'd and pray'd,
With sighs commix'd with words unto him said:

"O! whither dost thou tend, my unkind son?
What mischief dost thou go about to bring
To her, whose Genius thou here look'st upon,
Thy mother-country, whence thyself didst spring?
Whither thus dost thou in ambition run,
To change due course by foul disordering?
What bloodshed, what turmoils dost thou com-
To last for many woful ages hence? [mence,

"Stay here thy foot, thy yet anguilty foot,
That can'st not stay when thou art further in:
Retire thee yet unstain'd, whilst it doth boot;
The end is spoil of what thou dost begin.
Injustice never yet took lasting root,
Nor held that long, impiety did win:

32 The duke being banished in September, landed in the beginning of July after, at Ravenspurre, in Yorkshire; some say but with 60 men, others with 3000, and eight ships, set forth and furnished by the duke of Bretagne, ann. reg. 22.

33 The Genius of England appears to Bolingbroke.