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Oval portrait of Edward II in state, holding a scepter in his right hand and an orb in his left.

The Portraiture of Edward the Second King of
England, Lord of Ireland. Having Raigned 19.
Years and 7. Months, was Murdered at
Barkley-Castle at 43. Yeare of Age.

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The
History
of
The Life, Reign, and Death
of
Edward II.

King of England,
And
Lord of Ireland.

With
The Rise and Fall of his great Favourites,
Gaveston and the Spencers.

Written by E.F.Elizabeth Falklandin the year 16271627.
And Printed verbatim from the Original.

Qui nescit Dissimulare, nequit vivere, perire melius.

London:
Printed by J.C. for Charles Harper, at the Flower-de-luce in
Fleet-street; Samuel Crouch, at the Princes Arms in
Popes-head-Alley in Cornhil; and Thomas Fox, at
the Angel in Westminster-hall. 16801680.

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The
Publisher
To the Reader.

Reader,

Thou hast here presented to thy View the Life
and Death of Edward the Second, one of the
most Unfortunate Princes that ever swayed the
English Scepter. What it was that made him so, is left
to thee to judge, when thou hast read his Story. But
certainly the Falsness of his Queen, and the Flattery of
those Court-Parasites, Gaveston and the Spencers, did
contribute not a little thereto.

As for the Gentleman that wrote this History, his
own following Preface to the Reader will give some
short Account, as also of the Work it self, together
with the Designe and Time of its writing, which was
above Fifty years since. And this we think we may
say, (and perswade our selves that upon the perusal
thou wilt be of the same opinion) that he was every
way qualified for an Historian. And ’bating a
few obsolete words,(which shew the Antiquity of the
Work) we are apt to believe those days produced very
few who were able to express their Conceptions in so
Masculine a Stile.

We might easily enlarge in our Commendations of
this Excellent History; but it needs not; and therefore
we leave it to thee to read and judge.

A2 The
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The Author’s
Preface
To the Reader.

To out-run those weary hours of a deep
and sad Passion, my melancholy Pen
fell accidentally on this Historical Relation;
which speaks a King, our own, though
one of the most Unfortunate; and shews the
Pride and Fall of his Inglorious Minions.

I have not herein followed the dull Character
of our Historians, nor amplified more than they
infer, by Circumstance. I strive to please the
Truth, not Time; nor fear I Censure, since at the
worst, ’twas but one Month mis-spended; which
cannot promise ought in right Perfection.

If so you hap to view it, tax not my Errours;
I my self confeß them.

E.F.Elizabeth Falkland

The
B1r 1

The
Raign and Death
of Edward the Second.

Edward the Second, eldest Son of Edward
the First
and Elenor the vertuous Sister of the
Castilian King, was born at Carnarvan; 1284-04-25April 25.
1284.
and
in the most resplendant pride of his age,
immediately after the decease of his noble
Father, crowned King of England. 1307-07July
1307.
The principal Leaders
of the Rebellious Welshmen, Fluellen and Meredith,
being taken and executed, the Combustions of the Cambro-Britains
were quieted and settled in an uniform Obedience.
The Scots, by the resignation of Baliol, the execution
of Wallis, and the expulsion of Bruce their pretended
King, were reduced to their first Monarchy, and
brought to an absolute subjection, at such time as he took
upon him the Regiment of this then glorious Kingdom.
If we may credit the most antient Historians that speak
of the Princes and Passages of those times, this Royal
Branch was of an Aspect fair and lovely, carrying in his
outward appearance many promising Predictions of a singular
expectation. But the judgment, not the eye, must
have the preheminence in point of Calculation and Censure.
The smoothest waters are for the most part most
deep and dangerous; and the goodliest Blossoms nipt by
an unkindly Frost, wither, or produce their fruit sowre
or unwholsome: which may properly imply, That the
visible Calendar is not the true Character of inward Perfection;
evidently proved in the Life, Raign, and Death B of B1v 2
of this unfortunate Monarch. His Story speaks the Morning
fair, the Noon-tide eclipsed, and the sad Evening of
his Life more memorable by his untimely Death and Ruine.
He could not have been so unworthy a Son of so
noble a Father, nor so inglorious a Father of so excellent
a Son, if either Vertue or Vice had been hereditary. Our
Chronicles, as they parallel not him in his licentious Errours,
so do they rarely equal the Wisdom and Valour
of the one that went before, and the other that immediately
succeeded him. Neither was this degenerate
Corruption in him transcendent from the womb that bare
him, since all Writers agree his Mother to be one of the
most pious and illustrious pieces of Female-goodness that
is registred in those memorable Stories of all our Royal
Wedlocks. But the divine Ordinances are inscrutable,
and not to be questioned; it may else seem justly worthy
admiration, how so crooked a Plant should spring
from a Tree so great and glorious. His younger years
discovered a softly, sweet, and milde temper, pliable enough
to the impressions of Vertue; when he came to
write Man, he was believ’d over-liberally wanton, but
not extreamly vicious. The Royal honour of his Birthright
was scarcely invested in his person, when Time (the
Touchstone of Truth) shews him to the world a meer
Imposture; in Conversation light, in Condition wayward,
in Will violent, and in Passion furious and irreconciliable.

Edw.EdwardI’s
care in educating

his Son.
Edward, his valiant and prudent Father, had, by the
glory of his victorious Arms, and the excellency of his
Wisdom and Providence, laid him the sure foundation
of a happy Monarchy; making it his last and greatest
care to continue it so in his succession. This caus’d him
to employ his best understanding and labour for the enabling
of his Son, that he might be powerful, fit, and
worthy to perfect this great Work, and preserve it. And
from this Consideration he leads him to the Scotch
Wars, to teach him the right use of Arms, which are to be B2r 3
be managed as well by discretion as valour, and the advantage
of time and opportunity, which lead humane
Actions by the hand to their perfection. Here he likewise
instructs him with those more excellent Rules of
Knowledge and Discipline, that he might exactly know
what it was, and how to obey before he came to command.
Lastly, he unlocks the Closet of his heart, and
lays before him those same Arcana Imperii and secret mysteries
of State, which are onely proper to the Royal Operations,
and lie not in the road of Vulgar knowledge;
yet letting him withal know, that all these were too
weak to support the burthen of a Crown, if there be not
a correspondent worth in him that wears it. With these
grave Principles the prudent Father opening the way, soon
perceives he had a remaining task of a much harder temper;
with an unwilling eye he beholds in his Son many
sad remonstrances which intimate rather a natural vicious
inclination, than the corruption of time, or want of ability
to command it. Unless these might be taken off and
cleansed, he imagines all his other Cautions would be useless
and to little purpose. The pruning of the Branches
would improve the Fruit little, where the Tree was tainted
in the root with so foul a Canker. Too well he
knew how difficult a thing it was to invert the course of
Nature, especially being confirm’d by continuance of practice,
and make habituary by custom: yet he leaves no
means unattempted; being confident that Wedlock, or
the sad weight of a Crown, would in the sense of Honour
call him in time off to thoughts more innocent and
noble. Tenderness of Fatherly affection abus’d somewhat
his belief, and made him give his disorderly actions
the best construction, which suggests their progression to
flow from heat of Youth, want of Experience, and the
wickedness of those that fed him with so base impressions;
which, with all those sweet and milde intreaties that spring
from the heart of an essential love, he strives to reclaim,
intermixing withal as great a paternal severity as might properly B2v 4
properly sute the condition of a judicious Father, and the
dignity of the Heir apparent of so great and glorious a
Kingdom. And to make him more apt and fit to receive
and follow his instructions, he takes from him those tainted
humours of his Leprosie, that seduced the easiness of
his nature, and mis-led his unripe knowledge, too green
Banishes
Gaveston.
to master such sweet and bewitching temptations. Gaveston
his Ganymede, a man as base in Birth as in Condition,
Gaveston’s
Original
and Character.
he commandeth to perpetual Exile. This Syren
(as some write) came out of Gascoign; but the Author
whom I most credit and follow, speaks him an Italian;
not guilty of any drop of Noble blood; neither could
he from the height of his Hereditary hope, challenge
more than a bare ability to live; yet his thoughts were
above measure ambitious and aspiring, and his confidence
far greater than became his Birthright. Nature in his
outward parts had curiously exprest her workmanship, giving
him in shape and Beauty so perfect an excellence, that
the most curious eye could not discover any manifest errour,
unless it were in his Sex alone, since he had too
much for a man, and Perfection enough to have equal’d
the fairest Female splendour that breath’d within the
Confines of this Kingdom. Though in the abilities of
the Brain he were short of a deep and solid Knowledge,
yet he had Understanding enough to manage his ways to
their best advantage; having a smooth Tongue, an humble
Look, and a winning Behaviour, which he could at all
times fashion and vary according to the condition of time
and circumstance, for the most advantage. The youthful
Prince having fixed his wandring eye upon this pleasing
Object, and finding his amorous Glances entertained
with so gentle and well-becoming a modesty, begins
dearly to cherish the growing Affections of this new Forraign
Acquaintance; who applies himself wholly to win
him to a deeper Engagement. A short passage of time
had so cemented their hearts, that they seem’d to beat
with one and the self-same motion; so that the one seem’d with- C1r 5
without the other, like a Body without a Soul, or a shadow
without a Substance. Gaveston, the more to assure
so gracious a Master, strives to fit his humour, leaving his
Honour to his own protection, seconding his wanton disposition
with all those bewitching Vanities of licentious
and unbridled Youth, which in short time, by the frequencie
of practice, begets such a confidence, that they
fall from that reserved secrecy which should shadow actions
so unworthy, professing freely a debaucht and dissolute
kind of behaviour, to the shame and sorrow of
the grieved King and Kingdom. This hastened on the
Sentence of his Banishment, that thought himself then most
secure in the assurance of the Princes favour. The melancholy
apparitions of their parting, gave the world a firm
belief that this inchanting Mountebank had in the Cabinet
of his Masters heart, too dear a room and being.
The King knowing such impressions are easily won, but
hardly lost, strives to take him off by degrees, and labours
to make him wave the memory of that dotage
which with a divining Spirit he foresaw in time would
be his ruine. But death overtakes him before he could
bring this so good a Work to full perfection. The time
was come that exacts the Tribute of Nature, commanding
him to resigne both his Estate and Kingdom. When he
felt those cold fore-running Harbingers of his nearly-
approaching End, he thus intreats his Son and Lords,
whose watry eyes ingirt his glorious Death-bed.

Edw. I’s
Dying-
Speech to
the Prince
& Barons.
“Edward, the time draws near that calls me to my Grave,
you to enjoy this Kingdom. If you prove good, with happineß
’tis yours, and you will so preserve it; if otherwise, my
Pains and Glory will be your Dishonour. To be a King, it
is the gift of Nature; and Fortune makes him so that is by
Conquest; but Royal Goodness is the gift of Heaven, that blesseth
Crowns with an Immortal Glory. Believe not vainly
that so great a Calling is given to man to warrant his disorder.
It is a Blessing, yet a weighty Burthen, which (if C abused) C1v 6
abused) breaks his back that bears it. Your former Errours,
now continued, are no more yours, they are the Kings,
which will betray the Kingdom. The Soveraigns Vice begets
the Subjects Errour, who practise good or ill by his Example.
Can you in Justice punish them for that whereof your
self are guilty? But you, perhaps, may think your self exempt,
that are above the Law. Alas, mistake not; there are
Injunctions higher far than are your own, will crave a Reckoning.
To be belov’d, secures a sweet Obedience; but fear
betrays the heart of true Subjection, and makes your People
yours but by Compulsion. Majestick thoughts, like Elemental
fire, should tend still upwards; when they sink lower than
their Sphere, they win Contempt and Hatred. Advance
and cherish those of ancient Bloud and Greatness: Upstarts
are rais’d with Envy, kept with Danger. You must preserve
a well-respected distance, as far from Pride, as from too
loose a Baseness. Master your Passions with a noble temper;
such Triumphs makes the Victor conquer others. See here
the Ruines of a dying Scepter, that once was, as you are, a
youthful Blossom. I had not liv’d to see this snowy Winter,
but that I wean’d my heart from vain Temptations; my
Judgment, not my Eye, did steer my Compass, which gave
my Youth this Age that ends in Glory. I will not say, you
too too long have wander’d, though my sad heart hath droopt
to see your Errour. The time now fitly calls you home; embrace
it: for this advantage lost, is after hopeless. Your
First-fruit must make good your Worth; if that miscarry,
you wound your Subjects Hopes and your own Glory. Those
wanton Pleasures of wild Youth unmaster’d, may no more
touch the verge of your affections. The Royal Actions must be
grave and steady, since lesser Lights are fed by their Example:
so great a Glory must be pure transparent, that hand to hand
encounters Time and Envy. Cast off your former Consorts;
if they sway you, such an unnoble President will shake your
Peace, and wound your Honour. Your wanton Minion I so
lately banisht, call you not back, I charge you on my Blessing:
for his return will hasten your destruction. Such Cankers may C2r 7
may not taste your ear or favour, but in a modest and chast
proportion. Let true-born Greatness manage great Employments;
they are most fit that have a native goodness. Mushroms
in State that are preferr’d by dotage, open the Gap to
Hate and Civil Tumult. You cannot justly blame the Great
ones Murmur, if they command that are scarce fit to serve
them; such sudden leaps must break his neck that ventures,
and shake that Crown which gives his Wings their motion.
And you, my Lords, that witness this last Summons, you in
whose Loyal hearts your Soveraign flourisht, continue still a
sweet and vertuous Concord; temper the heat of my youthful
Successor, that he may prove as good, as great in Title. Maintain
the Sentence was by me pronounced; keep still that Viper
hence that harbours mischief: if he return, I fear ’twill
be your Ruine. It is my last Request; I, dying, make it,
which I do firmly hope you will not blemish. I would say
more, but, ah, my Spirits fail me.”

With this, he fainting, swoons; at length recovers,
and sadly silent, longs to hear their Answer. His weeping
Son and heavy drooping Barons, do mutually protest a
They swear
not to recal
Gaveston.
strict Observance, and vow to keep, with truth, this grave
Injunction. His jealous Spirit is not yet contented, until
they binde it with an Oath, and swear performance.
Scarce was it ended, when he mildly leaves the world
more confident than he had cause; as a short passage of
time made plain and evident. Dead mens Prescriptions
seldom tie the living, where Conscience awes not those
that are intrusted. Mortui non mordent, which gives to
humane frailty a seeming uncontrouled power of such
Injustice. To trust to Vows or Oaths, is equal hazard;
he that will wound his Soul with one, can wave the other.
If Vertue, Goodness, and Religion tye not, a
Death-bed Charge and solemn Oaths are fruitless. Here
you may see it instanc’d: This great King, as wise as
fortunate, living, had the Obedience of a Father and a
Soveraign; who, scarcely cold in his Mother Earth, was soon C2v 8
soon lost in the memory both of Son and Subject. His
Funeral-tears (the fruits of form rather than truth)
newly dryed up, and his Ceremonial Rites ended, his
Heir assumes the Crown and Scepter; while all mens
eyes were fixed to behold the first Virgin-works of his
Greatness: so many glorious and brave victorious Conquests
having given this Warlike Nation life and spirit fit
for present Action. The youthful King being in the bravery
of his years, won a belief in the active Souldier, that
so apt a Scholar as he had shew’d himself in the Art Military
during the Scotish Wars, would handsel the Maidenhead
of his Crown with some Out-ringing Larum that
might waken the Neighbour-Provinces, and make them
know his Power. But his inglorious Aims were bent another
way; neither to settle his own, or conquer others.
He had within his breast an unnatural Civil War
which gains the first preheminence in his Resolution.
His care is to quiet these in a Course wholly unjust, and
most unworthy his proper goodness. Seeing himself
now free and absolute, he thinks it not enough, unless his
Will as well as his Power, were equally obey’d. Being
a Son and a Subject, his Conformity had witness’d his Obedience;
being now a Soveraign and a King, he expects
The young
King troubled
at his
Oath.
a Correspondence of the self-same nature. The sad Restrictions
of his dying Father, so contrarious to his aims,
trouble his unquiet thoughts; where the Idea of his absent
love did hold so firm a footing. With ease he can
dispence with his own engagement; but fears the Lords,
whom he conceits too firmly fixt to waver. He dares
not Communicate the depth of his Resolution, being a
secret of too great weight to be divulged; he thinks intreaty
an act too much beneath him; and to attempt at
random, full of hazard. In these his restless passions, he
out-runs the Honey-month of his Empire; looking asquint
upon the necessary Actions of State, that requir’d his more
vigilant care and foresight. This kind of reclus’d behaviour
makes him unpleasant to his Lords, and nothing plausible D1r 9
plausible to the inferiour sort of Subjects, who expect the
beginning Acts of a Crown to be affable and gracious;
which wins ground by degrees on vulgar Affections, making
the way sure to a willing Obedience. But he esteems
this as a work of Supererogation, believing the
bare Tye of Duty was enough, without confirmation:
all his thoughts are entirely fixt upon his Gaveston; without
him he cannot be, yet how to get him handsomly,
without a Scar, is quite without his knowledge. He
concludes it in his secret Revolutions, too great an Injustice,
that confines the King from the free use and possession
of his nearest and dearest Affection; and cannot
imagine it to be reason, that his private Appetite should
Falls into
the height
of melancholy.
subscribe to publick necessity. In these kind of imaginary
Disputations, he brings himself to the height of such an
inward agitation, that he falls into a sad retired Melancholy;
while all men (as they justly might) wonder’d,
but few did know the reason: Amongst these, a
Page of his Chamber, one that had an oyly tongue (a fit
instrument for such a Physician) adventures the care of
The Character
and
danger of
Court-Parasites.
this diseased Passion. This green States-man, with a foreright
look, strives rather to please, than to advise; caring
not what succeeds, so he may make it the Stair of his
Preferment. The Court-corruption ingenders a world
of these Caterpillers, that, to work their own ends, value
not at one blow to hazard both the King and Kingdom.
The Errour is not so properly theirs, as their Masters,
who do countenance and advance such Sycophants; leaving
the integrity of hearts more honest (that would sacrifice
themselves in his Service in the true way of Honour)
wholly contemn’d and neglected: which hath
begotten so many desperate Convulsions, that have (as
we may finde in our own Stories) deposed divers glorious
Kings from their proper Dignity, and lawful Inheritance.
There are too many frequent Examples what
mischief such Parasitical Minions have wrought to those
several States they liv’d in; and certainly such RevolutionsD tions D1v 10
succeed by a necessary and inevitable Justice: for
where the Royal Ear is so guided, there ensues a general
Subversion of all Law and Goodness; as you may behold
here evidently in this unfortunate King, who willingly
entertains this fawning Orator, that thus presents
his Counsel.

A Courtiers

Speech to
the King,
to recal
Gaveston.
“Are you a King (Great Sir) and yet a Subject? can
you Command, and yet must yield Obedience? Then leave
your Scepter. The Law of Nature gives the poorest their
Affections; are you restrained? It is your own Injustice
that makes your Will admit this separation: if you command,
who dares controul your Actions, which ought to
be obeyed, and not disputed? Say that your wayward Lords
do frown, or murmur, will you for this forebear your own
Contentment? One rough Majestick glaunce will charm their
anger. Admit great Edward did command Obedience, he
then was King, your Sovereign, and your Father; he now
is dead, and you enjoy his Power; will you let still obey and
serve his shadow? His Vigour dull’d with Age, could not
give Laws to suit your Youth and Spirit; nor is it proper
that the Regal Power be made a stranger to his own Contentment,
or be debarr’d from inward Peace and Quiet.
Did you but truely know what ’tis to be a Monarch, you’ld
be so to your self as well as others. What do you fear, or
what is it restrains you? A seeming Danger, more in shew
than substance. Wise men that finde their aims confin’d
to hazard, secure the worst before they give them action.
You have a Kingdoms Power to back, a Will to guide it;
Can private fear suggest to shake it? Alas, they cannot,
if your self were constant: Who dares oppose, if you command
Obedience? I deny not, if you be faint or stagger,
you may be crost and curb’d by that advantage, that gives
their moving-heart shew of Justice. You understand your
self, and feel your Passions; if they be such as will not brook
denial, why do you dally, or delay to right them? The more
you paise your doubts, the more they double, and make things worse D2r 11
worse than they or are, or can be: appearing like your self,
these clouds will vanish, and then you’ll see and know your
proper errour. Will you vouchsafe my trust, I’ll fetch him
hither, whose absence gives you such a sad distraction: You
may the while secure his entertainment with such a strength,
may warrant your proceedings. ’Twere madness to ask
leave to act Transgressions, where Pardon may be had when
they are acted. If you do seek consent from your great Barons,
they’ll dare deny; which is nor fault, nor Treason;
and in that act you foil your hopes and action, which gives
their opposition shew of Justice. But ’tis in vain to plead
the grounds of Reason, since ’tis your Will must give the resolution:
If that be fixt, there needs no more disputing, but
such as best may bring it to perfection.”

When this smooth Physician had prescribed so fit a
“Balsamum” for so foul a Wound, the King seems infinitely
pleased in his relation; he had hit his desires in the
Master-vein, and struck his former Jealousie between
wind and water, so that it sunk in the instant: his love-
sick Heart became more free and frolick; which sudden
mutation begat as great a wonder. The Operations of
the Fancy transport sometimes our Imagination to believe
an actual possession of those things we most desire and
hope for; which gives such a life to the dejected Spirits
of the Body, that in the instant they seem cloathed in a
new Habit. Such was the condition of this wanton King,
that in this bare overture, conceits the fruition of his beloved
Damon, and apprehends this Golden Dream to be
an essential part of his fantastique Happiness. He heaps
a world of promises and thanks on the Relator, letting
him know, he waits but a fitting opportunity to give this
project life and action. It is a politique part of Court-
wisdome, to insinuate and lay hold of all the befitting
opportunities, that may claw the Prince’s humour that is
naturally vain-glorious or vicious; there is not a more
ready and certain way of advancement, if it do shake hands with D2v 12
with Modesty, and appear with an undaunted, impudent
boldness. He that will be a Courtier, and contains himself
within the modest temperance of pure Honesty, and
not intrude himself before he be called, may like a Sea-
mark serve to teach other men to steer their Course,
while he himself sticks fast, unmoved, unpitied. All the
Abilities of Nature, Art, Education, are useless, if they
be tyed to the links of Honesty, which hath little or no
society in the Rules of State or Pleasure, which as they
are unlimited, walk in the by-way from all that is good
or vertuous.

If this Butterfly had truly laid before his unhappy Master,
what it had been to break the Injunctions of a dying
Father, to falsifie such Vows and Oaths so solemnly
sworn, and to irritate the greatest Peers of the Kingdom
with so unworthy an action, (which had been the Duty
of a Servant of his Masters Honour truely careful) he
had felt the Reward of such plain dealing, either with
Scorn, Contempt, or Passion; whose flattering falsehood
wins him special Grace and Favour, and gains the
title of an able Agent.

Some few days pass, which seem’d o’re long, before
the King exacts a second tryal. In the interim, to take
away all jealousie, he enters into the business of the
Kingdom, and with a seeming serious care surveys each
passage, and not so much as sighs, or names his Gavaeston;
doubting if in his way he were discovered, there
might be some cross-work might blast his project: He
knew how easie ’twas (if once suspected) to take away
the Cause might breed a difference: What could so
poor a stranger do that might protect him against or publick
Force, or private Mischief, either of which he knew
would be attempted, before the Lords would suffer his
reprisal? When all was whisht and quiet, and all mens
The King
sends for
Gaveston.
eyes were fixed upon the present, he calls his trusty
Roger to his private presence, and after some Instructions
throws him his Purse, and bids him haste; he knew his Errand E1r 13
Errand. The wily Servant knows his Masters meaning,
and leaves the Court, pretending just occasion, proud
of imployment posting on his Journey. The king having
thus far gone, must now go onward; he knew
that long it could not be concealed; such actions cannot
rest in sleepy silence; which made him think it fit to be
Acquaints
his Council
therewith;
who
labour to
divert him.
the first Reporter. This makes him send and call his
Council, who soon are ready, and attend his Summons;
where he makes known the fury of his Passions, and tells
the way that he had taken to ease them. So strange an
act begets as great a wonder; they unâ voce labour to
divert him, and humbly plead his Fathers last Injunction,
to which their Faiths were tyed by deep Engagement.
They urge the Law that could not be dispens’d with,
without a publick breach of his prescription. They
speak the Vows and Oaths they all had taken, which in
consenting would make them false and perjur’d. This
working nothing, they entreat him he would a while
adjourn his resolution; time might happily finde out a
way might give him content, and yet might save their
Honours. His jealous fear suspects this modest answer;
a temporizing must increase his sorrow, while they so
warned might work a sure prevention. Being thus at
plunge, he strives to make it sure, and win his Will, or
loose his Jurisdiction. Though he were naturally of a
suspicious and timerous Nature, yet seeing now the interest
of his Power at stake on the success of this Overture,
he lays aside his effeminate disposition, and with angry
Brow, and stern Majesty, doth thus discourse his pleasure.

His angry
Reply.
“Am I your King? If so, why then obey me; lest while
you teach me Law, I learn you Duty. Know, I am firmly
bent, and will not vary. If you and all the Kingdome frown,
I care not: You must enjoy your own affections, I not so much
as question or controul them; but I that am your Sovereign,
must be tutor’d to love and like alone by your discretion. Do E not E1v 14
not mistake, I am not now in Wardship, nor will be chalkt
out ways to guide my fancy. Tend you the Kingdoms and
the publick Errours; I can prevent mine own without Protection.
I should be loth to let you feel my Power; but must
and will, if you too much enforce me. If not Obedience,
yet your Loves might tender a kind consent, when ’tis your
King that seeks it. But you perhaps conceit you share my
Power; you neither do nor shall, while I command it; I
will be still my self, or less than nothing.”

These words, and the manner of their delivery, bred
a strange distraction, in which he flings away with a
kinde of loose scorn; for their refusal his valiant heart
had yet his proper motions, which tost it to and fro
with doubtful hazard. They sadly silent sit, and view
each other, wishing some one would shew undaunted
Valour, to tye the Bell about the Cats neck that frights
them; but none appears. They yet were strangers to
their own party, and the Kings conditions. Their late
dead Master’s ways were smooth and harmless, as free
from private Wrongs as publick Grievance; which had
extinguisht all pretence of Faction, and made them meet
as Friends without assurance; this wrought them with
more ease to treat the business; each one doth first survey
his own condition, which single could do little, and yet
exprest might cause his proper ruine: next they measure
the Kings Will and Power, with his Command; against
which in vain were contestation, where wants united
strength to make it sure. Lastly, they examine what
could at worst ensue in their consenting, since it was as
possible to remove him being here, as stop his coming.
The King advertised by a private Intelligencer (a fit instrument
in the body of a State, in the Society and Body
of a Council) of their staggering irresolution, and finding
his Pills had so Kinde an Operation, lays hold of the
advantage, and would not let the iron cool before he
wrought it. This brings him back with a more familiar and E2r 15
and mild look, and begets a discourse less passionate, but
more prevailing. Temperately he lays before them the
extremity of his inward trouble, which had so engrost
his private thoughts, that he had been thereby enforced
to estrange himself from them, and neglected the Rights
due to his Crown and Dignity. He lets them know the
depth of his engagement, which had no aim repugnant
to the Publick Good, nor intention hurtful to their proper
Honours; and to conclude, he intreats them, (if
any of them had been truely touch’d with a disease of
the same quality) that they would indifferently measure
his Condition by their own Sufferings. So fair a Sunshine
The Council
consent
to recal
Gaveston.
following at the heels of so sharp a Tempest,
wrought a sudden innovation; their yielding hearts seek
to win Grace, rather than hazard his Displeasure: yet
to colour so apparent a breach of Faith to their dead
Master, they capitulate certain Conditions, which might
seem to extenuate (if not take off) the stain of their
dishonour; as if matter of circumstance had been a sufficient
motive for the breach of an Oath so solemnly
and authentically sworn. The King resolv’d to purchase
his peace, (whose price was but verbal) is nothing sparing
to promise all and more than was demanded; which
they credit over-hastily, though they could not be so
light of belief as to imagine, that he would keep his
Word with the Subject, that wilfully incurs a Perjury against
his own Father; yet in case of necessity it was by
general consent agreed, rather to subscribe, than to endanger
the Peace of the Kingdom, by so unkinde and
unnatural a division. The King giving to each of them
particular thanks, (having thus plaid his Masters prize)
departs wondrously content and jocund: they seem outwardly
not displeased, that had obtain’d as much as they
could desire; and hoped the end would be fair, if not
fortunate. The eye of the world may be blinded, and
the severity of humane Constitutions removed; but so
great a Perjury seldome escapes unpunished by the Divinevine E2v 16
Justice, who admits no dalliance with Oaths,
even in the Case of Necessity, as it evidently appears in
the sequel of this Story; where you may behold the
miserable ruine that his principal and efficient cause had
from this beginning. It had been far more honourable
and advantageous to the State, if this young wanton
King had point-blank found a flat denial, and been
brought to have tugg’d at the arms end; the injustice
of the quarrel, which might in time have recollected his
senses, and brought him to the true knowledge what a
madness it was, for the loose affection of so unworthy
an Object, to hazard his own Dignity, and alien the
Love of the whole Kingdom. But it is the general
Disease of Greatness, and a kinde of Royal Fever, when
they fall upon an indulgent Dotage, to patronize and
advance the corrupt ends of their Minions, though the
whole society of State and Body of the Kingdom run in
a direct opposition; neither is Reason, Law, Religion,
or the imminency of succeeding danger, weight enough
to divert the stream of such inordinate Affections, until
a miserable Conclusion give it a fatal and just Repentance.
It were much better, if with a provident foresight
they would fear and prevent the blow before they
feel it. But such melancholy Meditations are deemed a
fit food for Penitentials, rather than a necessary reflection
for the full stomack of Regal Authority. The black
clouds of former Suspicion being thus vanish’d, nothing
now wants to make perfect the Royal Desires, but the
fruition of this long-expected purchase. The smooth
Servant that had so pleasingly advised, was not less careful
in the execution of his promise. He knew haste
would advance the opinion of his Merit; this makes
him soon out-run his journey, and finde the Star of his
directions, to whom he liberally relates the occasion of
his coming, which he confirms by the delivery of his
Masters Letter, wherein was drawn to the life the character
of his Affection, and the assurance of his safety and F1r 17
and intended promotion. Gaveston being ravish’d with
so sweet and welcome a relation, entertains it with as
much joy, as the condemned Prisoner receives his Pardon
at the place and hour of Execution. His long-dejected
Spirits apprehend the advantage of so hopeful an opportunity,
and spur him on with that haste, that he hardly
consents to one nights intermission for the repose of this
weary Messenger. No sooner had the Mornings-
Watchman given his shrill summons of the approaching
Day-light, but he forsakes his weary Bed, and hastens
straight to Horseback; and being not well assured of his
reception in the Kingdom, being a banish’d man by so
Juridical a Sentence, he esteems it too weak an Adventure
to expose himself to the hazard of the Road-way,
where he might with ease be intercepted. This leads
him to disguise himself, and seek a secret passage; which
he as readily findes; all things concurring to improve his
happiness, if he had had judgment and temper enough
to have given it a right use. Every minute he esteems
ill lost, till he might again be re-enfoulded in the sweet
and dear embraces of his Royal Master.

Gaveston
returns.
Time, that out-runs proud Fate, brings him at last to
the end of his desires, where the interview was accompanied
with as many mutual expressions, as might flow
from the tongues, eyes, and hearts of long-divided Lovers.
This pair thus again re-united, the Court puts on
a general face of Gladness, while wiser heads with cause
suspect the issue. They esteem it full of danger, to have
one man alone so fully possess the Kings Affections, who
if he be not truely good, and deep enough to advise
soundly, must often be the cause of Error and Disorder.
This strange piece had neither Nobility of Birth, Ability
of Brain, or any Moral Goodness, whereby they might
justly hope he would be a stay to the unbridled youth of
their Sovereign. A precedent experience during the
Government of their dead Master, had given them a perfect
knowledg, that he was more properly a fit instrumentF ment F1v 18
for a Brothel, than to be the Steersman of the Royal
actions: yet there was now no prevention; they must
hope the best, and attend the issue.

The King
slights his
Barons.
Edward having thus regained his beloved Favourite,
could not shadow or dissemble his Affection, but makes
it eminent by the neglects of the State-affairs, and the
forgetfulness of the civil and ordinary Respect due to his
great Barons. They wait contemn’d, and cannot gain
the threshold, while this new Upstart’s courted in the
Royal Chamber. This kinde of usage won a sudden
murmur, which calls them off to close and private Meetings;
there they discourse their Griefs, and means to right
them; they sift each way might break this fond inchantment,
or lessen this great light obscured their
lustre. When they had canvast all the Stratagems of
State, and private workings, they deem’d it the most
innocent and fair way, to win the King to marry; the interest
of a Wife was thought the most hopeful inducement
to reclaim these loose affections that were prostituted
without or sense or honour; she might become a
fit counterpoise to qualifie the Pride of such a swelling
greatness.

They perswade
him
to marry.
The major part soon jump in this opinion; the rest are
quickly won, that fear’d the sequel. On this they all together
present themselves and their request, and shew
the reasons, but touch not the true ground why they desired
it. After some pawse the King approves their
motion, yet bids them well consider it was the greatest
Action of his life, which as it principally concern’d his
particular Contentment, so did equally reflect on the general
Interest of the whole Kingdom. If they could find
him out such a Wedlock as might adde Strength and Honour
to the Crown, and be withal suitable to his liking,
he would readily embrace it, and value it as a blessing.
So fair a beginning encourageth them to move for Isabel
the French Kings Daughter, one of the goodliest and
fairest Ladies of that time. The King readily inclines to have F2r 19
have it treated; on which an honourable Embassage is
sent to make the motion. They are nobly receiv’d and
willingly heard that bare this Message, and the Conditions
easily reconciled to a full Agreement. This brings them
home with a like noble Company, full authorized to receive
the Kings consent and approbation.

The King
marries;
This Conclusion thus made, sends our new Lover into
France, to fetch his Mistriss; where he is received like
himself, feasted, and married with a great deal of Joy
and Pleasure. The Solemnity ended, and a Farewel
taken, he hastens homewards, returning seised of a
Jewel, which not being rightly valued, wrought his
ruine. Inifinite was the joy of the Kingdom, evident in
those many goodly expressions of her Welcome. The
excellency of so rare a Beauty could not so surprize the
heart of this Royal Bridegroom, but that he was still
troubled with the pangs of his old Infirmity: It was in
the first Præludium of his nuptials a very disputable
Question, whether the Interest of the Wife, or Favourite,
were most predominant in his Affections; but a short
time discovers that Gaveston had the sole possession of his
and marries
Gaveston
to
Margaret,
Daughter
of Gilb.Gilbert de
Clare
, Earl
of Gloucester,
by his
Wife Joan
of Acres
,
Daughter
to Edw.Edward I.
Creates
him Earl
of Cornwall.
Heart, and Power to keep it. To level their conditions,
and make the terms betwixt them more even, he tyes
this fair bullock in a yoke of the same nature, marrying
him to a lovely branch of the house of Gloucester, whose
noble heart struggled infinitely, yet durst not contradict
the Kings Injustice. He holds his blood disparag’d by so
base commixtion. To take away that doubt, the new-
married man is advanced to the Earldom of Cornwal, and
hath in his Gift the goodly Castle and Lordship of Wallingford;
so that now in Title he had no just exception;
and for conditions, it must be thought enough his Master
loved him. To shew himself thankful, and to seem
worthy of such gracious favour, Gaveston applies himself
wholly to the Kings humour, feeding it with the variety
of his proper appetite, without so much as question or
contradiction: Not a word fell from his Sovereign’s tongue, F2v 20
tongue, but he applauds it as an Oracle, and makes it as
a Law to guide his actions. This kinde of juggling behaviour
had so glewed him to his Master, that their
Affections, nay their very Intentions seem’d to go hand
in hand; insomuch that the Injustice of the one, never
found rub in the consent of the other. If the King
maintain’d the party, the servant was ever fortunate, his
voice was ever concurrent, and sung the same Tune to a
Crochet. The discourse being in the commendation of
Arms, the eccho stiles it an Heroick Vertue; if Peace, it
was an Heavenly Blessing; unlawful Pleasures, a noble
Recreation; and Actions most unjust, a Royal Goodness.
These parasitical Gloses so betray’d the itching ear that
heard them, that no Honour or Preferment is conceited
And makes
him chief
Minister of
State.
great and good enough for the Relator. A short time invests
in his person or disposure all the principal Offices
and Dignities of the Kingdom; the Command of War,
and all Military Provisions, were committed solely to his
care and custody; all Treaties forraign and domestick,
had, by his direction, success or ruine; nothing is concluded
touching the Government or Royal Prerogative, but
by his consent and approbation. In the view of these
strange passages, the King appear’d so little himself, that
the Subjects thought him a Royal Shadow without a
Real Substance. This Pageant, too weak a Jade for so
weighty a burden, had not a brain in it self able enough
to manage such great Actions; neither would he entertain
those of ability to guide him, whose honest freedom
might have made him go through-stitch with more reputation.
He esteems it a gross oversight, and too deep a
disparagement, to have any creature of his own thought
wiser than himself; he had rather his Greatness (than
hazard such a blemish) should lie open to the malice of
time and fortune. This made him chuse his Servants as
his Master chose him, of a smooth fawning temper, such
as might cry ayme, and approve his actions, but not dispute
them. Hence flew a world of wilde disorder; the sacredcred G1r 21
Rules of Justice were subverted, the Laws integrity
abused, the Judge corrupted or inforc’d, and all the
Types of Honour due to Vertue, Valour, Goodness, were
like the Pedlers pack, made Ware for Chapmen. Neither
was it conceiv’d enough thus to advance him beyond
proportion, or his birth and merit, but he must carry all
without disputing. No one may stand in his way, but
tastes his power. Old quarrels are ript up, to make his
spleen more extant.

Gaveston
imprisons
the Bishop
of
Chester
.
The grave Bishop of Chester, a man reverend for years,
and eminent for his Profession and Dignity, is committed,
and could be neither indifferently heard or released, upon
the meer supposition that he had been the cause of his
first Banishment. These insolencies, carried with so great
a height, and exprest with so malicious a liberty, were
accompanied with all the remonstrances of a justly-grieved
The Kingdom
resent
it.
Kingdom. The ancient Nobility, that disdain’d such an
equal, accuse the injustice of the time that makes him their
Superiour. The grave Senators are griev’d to see the
places, due to their worths, possess’d by those unworthy
and unable. The angry Souldier, that with his blood had
purchas’d his experience, beholds with sorrow, Buffoons
preferr’d; while he, like the ruines of some goodly Building,
is left to the wide world, without use or reparation.
The Commons, in a more intemperate fashion,
make known their griefs, and exclaim against so many
great and foul Oppressions. The new-made Earl both saw
and knew the general discontent and hatred, yet seeks
not how to cure or stop this mischief; his proud heart
would not stoop or sink: his greatness, which might
perhaps have qualified the fury, with an ill-advised confidence
out-dares the worst of his approaching danger,
and is not squeamish to let the Kingdom know it. The
slumbring Barons, startled with the murmur that ecchoed
nought but fear and quick confusion, at length awake,
and change their drowsie temper, condemning their long
patience, that was so far unfit their Bloud and Greatness. G Lincoln, G1v 22
Lincoln, Warwick, and Pembrooke, whose noble hearts
disdain’d to suffer basely, resolve to cure the State,
or make the Quarrel fatal. This Mushrome must be
cropt, or Arms must right the Kingdom. Yet before
they will attempt by force, they’ll feel their Soveraign’s
pulses; who, drown’d in sensual pleasure, dreams
not of their practice. This Resolution leads them
to the Court, where with some sute they gain admittance;
where to the King brave Lincoln thus discours’d
their Grievance.

Lincoln’s
Speech to
the King.
“See here (my Liege) your faithful though dejected servants,
that have too long cry’d ayme to our Afflictions; we
know you in your self are good, though now seduced; the
height is such, we fear a coming Ruine. Let it not taint
your ear to hear our sorrow, which is not ours alone, but all
the Kingdoms, that groan and languish under this sad burden.
One man alone occasions all this mischief; ’tis one
mans pride and vice that crusheth thousands: we hope you
will not boulster such a foul disorder, and for one poor worthless
piece, betray a Kingdom. The Heavens forbid so
great and fond injustice. You are your own, yet we believe
you ours; if so, we may what you forget, remember. Kings
that are born so, should preserve their Greatness; which
Goodness makes, not all their other Titles. Your noble Father
dying, bound our Honours; yet we subscribed a breach
at your intreaty: You promis’d then a fair and grave proceeding;
but what succeeds? the worst of base Oppression.
So long as we had hope, our tongues were silent; we sate
and sighed out our peculiar Sufferings: But when we see so
fond and lewd progression, that seems to threaten You and
all your Subjects, you cannot blame us if we seek to right
it. Would your unpartial eye survey the present State of this
late glorious Kingdom, you there shall see the Face of Shame
and Sorrow. No place is free; both Court and Country
languish; all men complain, but none finde help or comfort.
Will you for him, not worth your meanest favour, consent the G2r 23
the Ruine of so brave a Nation? Alas, Sir, if you would,
we may not bear it; our Arms that guard your Life, shall
keep your Honour. ’Tis not unjust, if you your self enforce
it; the time admits no respite: For God’s sake, Sir, resolve
us; since you must part with him, or us, then chuse
you whether.”

The King amazed with this strange Petition, believes
it backt with some more secret practice: He knew their
Griefs were just, yet loath to right them; He hop’d
this Tempest would o’reblow, he might advise his Answer:
But when he saw them fixt to know his pleasure,
he then believes it was in vain to struggle. He knew
their strength that had combin’d to seek it, and saw he
was too weak for contradiction. This made him yield
he should be once more banisht. Though his wretchless
improvidence had laid him open to this advantage,
yet he was still Master of his antient King-craft, which
made him smoothly seem to pass it over, as if he well
approv’d this Sequestration, which he resolves to alter
as he pleased, when he had made the party sure might
back his actions; till then, he slubbers o’re his private
Passion. The Lords, whose innocent aims had no end
but Reformation, depart content, yet wait upon the
Gaveston banished
the
second time,
and sent into
Ireland.
issue. A second time this Monster is sent packing, and
leaves the Kingdom free from his Infection. Ireland is
made the Cage must mewe this Haggard, whither he goes
as if to Execution. With a sad heart he leaves his great
Protector, vowing revenge if he may live to act it. This
weak Statesman here gives a sure testimony of the poverty
of his Brain, that in the time of his Prosperity and
Height had not made sure one forreign Friend, to whom
he might have had a welcome access in time of his expulsion.
But he had handled matters so, that he was alike
hateful here and abroad, insomuch that he believes this
barbarous Climate his surest refuge. But he being
gone, all things seem’d well reconciled; the State was quiet, G2v 24
quiet, and mens hopes were suitable to their desires,
which seem’d to promise a quick and speedy Reformation.
But the vanity of this belief vanisht away
like a shadow, and the intermission was little less
intemperate than the former agitation. This wilie
Serpent continues so his forreign Correspondence,
that the King was little better’d by his absence;
which made it evident, that Death alone would end
his practis’d mischief. Their Bodies were divided,
but their Affections meet with a higher Inflammation.
The intervacuum of their absence hath many reciprocal
passages, which interchangeably flie betwixt them.
The King receives not a Syllable, but straight returns
with golden interest. Infinitely are they both troubled
with their division, but far more with the affront of the
presuming Barons, that had extorted it by force, yet
with intreaty. The King esteem’d this kinde of proceeding
too great an indignity to be pocketted; yet
since it had the pretence of his Safety and the general
Good, there was not apparent Justice enough to call
it to an after-reckoning. But alas, that needed not; for
his effeminate weakness had left him naked of that
Royal resolution, that dares question the least disorderly
moving of the greatest Subject. He was constant
in nothing but his Passions, which led him to study
more the return of his left-handed Servant, than how
to make it good, effected. He lays aside the Majesty
of a King, and thinks his Power too slender; his Sword
sleeps like a quiet harmless Beast, while his Tongue
proves his better Champion. He sends for those that
had been the principal Agents in the last Sentence, and
treats with them severally; knowing that Hairs are pluckt
up one by one, that are not mov’d by handfuls; encountring
them thus single, hand to hand, what with his
hypocritical Entreaties and mildew’d Promises, he soon
gets from their relenting hearts a several Consent answerable
to his desires. When by untying the Bundle he had H1r 25
had disunited the strength of their Confederacy, he then
with confidence makes it a general Proposition; which
Again recalled.
takes so, that the repeal of Gaveston’s banishment pass’d
currant without exception.

The Kings intent and the approbation of the Lords
is scarcely known, before (like an Irish Hubbub, that
needs nothing but noise to carry it) it arriv’d in Ireland.
Upon the wings of Passion, made proud by the
hope of Revenge and a second Greatness, he flies swiftly
back to the Fountain of his first Preferment. Once
more the breach is soder’d, and this True-loves Knot
enjoys his first Possession. But there wanted yet that
deep reach and provident foresight that should have
given it assurance. The King had neither enabled himself
to carry things in their former height by main
strength, neither had he wrought his disorder’d Affections
to a conformity, or a more stayed temper. His female
Mercury lessens not his former Ambition, but returns
the self-same man; onely improved with the desire of revenge,
which was naked of the means to act it: so that
it was quickly perceiv’d that the Kingdom must feel another
fit of her Convulsion. The mutual Corruptions
of these two, went with an equal improvidence; which
gave the Lords their advantage, and them too late a cause
of repentance.

Immediately on his reception, the King falls into a
more dangerous Relapse of his former Dotage; which
so fully ingross’d him, that all Discourse and Company
seem’d harsh and unpleasant, but such as came from the
mellow tongue of his Minion, who invents many new Enchantments
to feed and more engage his frenzie. All
the dissolute Actions of licentious Youth are acted Cum
Privilegio
. This bred such a Grief and Distemper in
the sorrowing heart of the Subject, that a general Cloud
of Sadness seem’d to shadow the whole Kingdom. Those
former strict Admonitions were not powerful enough to
bridle this Distemper, not so much as for a fair in-come; H the H1v 26
the one becomes at the first dash more fond, the other
more insolent: those whom before he onely scorn’d, he
now affronts with publick hatred, letting them know
his spleen waits but advantage. He fills his Soveraigns
ears with new suspition, and whets him on to act in
bloud and mischief.

It is a Dispute variously believ’d, what Climate hatch’d
this Vulture. I cannot credit him to be an Italian, when I
observe the map of his Actions so far different from the
disposition and practice of that politick Nation: They
use not to vent publickly their spleens, till they do act
them. He that will work in State, and thrive, must be
reserved; a downright way that hath not strength to
warrant it, is crusht and breaks with his own weight,
without discretion. Those that are in this trade held
their Crafts-masters, do speak those fairest whom they
mean to ruine, and rather trust close work than publick
practice. Wise men made great, disguise their aims
with Vizards, which see and are not seen, while they are
plotting. Judge not by their smooth looks or words,
which hath no kindred with the hearts of Machiavilian
States-men. Who trusts more to his will than wit, may
act his Passion; but this mans malice is within protection.
Where mischief harbours close and undiscovered,
it ruines all her Rubs without suspition; a Pill or Potion
makes him sure, that by plain force might have outliv’d
an Army: such ends thus wrought, if once suspected,
a neat State-lye can parget o’r with Justice. But
those antient times were more innocent, or this great
Favorite more ignorant. He went on the plain way of
corrupted flesh and bloud, seeking to enchant his Master,
in which he was a perfect Work-man; and the contempt
of his Competitors, in which he was as wilful as
fearless: but in the managing of his proper greatness,
there he appears like himself, a meer Imposture, going
on with a full carreer, not so much as viewing the ground
he went on.

The H2r 27

Abuses the
King and
Kingdom.
The Royal Treasure he exhausts in Pride and Riot;
the Jewels of the Crown are in the Lumbard; that same
goodly Golden Table and Tressles of so great and rich a
value, he surreptitiously embezzles; and nothing almost
left, that might either make Money, or improve his
Glory. No man may now have the Kings ear, hand,
or Purse, but he’s the Mediator; his Creatures are advanc’d,
his Agents flourish, and poorest Grooms become
great Men of Worship. The King hath nothing but
the name, while his Vicegerent hath the benefit and
execution. All that appertains unto the Crown and
Royal Dignity are wholly in his Power, so that he
might justly be thought the Lessee, if not the Inheritor
of the Prerogative and Revenue. The sense of Grief and
Duty that had long contested in the Lion-hearts of the
Nobility, are now reconciled. These strange presumptions
had banish’d all possibility of a longer sufferance;
They vow to make this Monster shrink, and let his Master
know it. On this, well and strongly attended,
they wait upon the King, and not with mild or fair Intreaties,
they boldly now make known their Wrongs,
and call for present Justice. Edward with a steady eye
beholds their looks, where he sees registred the Characters
of a just Indignation, and the threatning furrows
of ensuing danger. He stands not to dispute the quarrel,
lest they should tear the object of their anger from
his elbow: without all shew of inward motion, he tells
themselves had power to act what was most fitting, to
whom he had assign’d the care should keep his Person,
and assure the Kingdom. They beyond their expectation
finding the wind in that door, give not his inconstant
thoughts time to vary, but command their
Gaveston banished
the
third time;
goes into
Flanders.
Antagonist off to a third Banishment. He deprived of
heart and strength, is enforced to obey, having not so
much liberty, as to take a solemn Farewel. Now is
he sent for Flanders; the Jurisdiction of the Kings Dominions
are esteem’d no fit Sanctuary to protect so loose a H2v 28
a Liver. They leave him to prey and practice on the
Dutch, whose Caps steel’d with Liquour, had reeling
Craft enough to make him quiet.

This passage bred a supposition that he was now for
ever lost: the King made shew as he were well contented;
and men were glad to see this storm appeased,
that seem’d to threaten an intestine ruine. This Happiness
was but imaginary, but it is made perfect by one
Edward of
Windsor
, afterwards

Edw.Edward the 3.
Born, 1312-10-1313
Oct. 1312
.
more real; Windsor presents the King an Heir apparent;
which happy News flies swiftly through the Kingdom,
which gives it welcome with a brave expression. The
Royal Father did not taste this Blessing with such a
sense of Joy as it deserved: Whether ’twas his misgiving
Spirit, or the absence of his lost Jewel, he sadly
silent sighs out the relation; such a deserving Joy
could not win so much as a smile from his melancholy
Brow, grown old with trouble. The appearance of
his inward agitation was such, that the greatest enemies
of his Dotage were the most compassionate of his Sufferings.
Such a masculine Affection and rapture was in
those times without president, where Love went in the
natural strain, fully as firm, yet far less violent. If the
circumstances of this passionate Humour, so predominant
in this unfortunate King, be maturely considered, we
shall finde them as far short of possibility as reason;
which have made many believe, that they had a supernatural
operation and working, enforc’d by Art or
Witchcraft. But let their beginning be what it will,
never was man more immoderately transported, which
took from him in this little time of his third absence,
the benefit of his Understanding and Spirits so fully,
that he seems rather distracted than inamour’d, more
properly without Reason, than ability to command it.
In the circumference of his Brain he cannot finde a way
to lead him out of this Labyrinth, but that which depended
more of Power than Wisdome. Bridle his
Affections he could not, which were but bare embryons without I1r 29
without possession; alter them he cannot, where his
eye meets not with a subject powerful enough to engage
him: what then rests to settle this civil discord, but
restitution? which he attempts in spight of opposition.
Gaveston aagain
returns.
Gaveston comes back; the King avows, and bids them
stir that durst, He would protect him. Princes that
falsifie their Faiths, more by proper inclination than a
necessary impulsion, grow not more hateful to forreign
Nations, than fearful and suspected to their own Subjects.
If they be tainted with a known Guilt, and justifie
it, ’tis a shrewd presumption of a sick State, where
the Head is so diseased. A habit of doing ill, and a
daring Impudence to maintain it, makes all things in a
Politique Wisdome lawful. This Position in the end
cosens the professor, and leaves him in the field open to
shame and infamy: And it stands with reason; for if
Vertue be the Road-way to Perfection, the corruption
of a false Heart must certainly be the path to an unpitied
ruine.

The Barons
take up
Arms.
The enraged Barons seeing great Cornwal return, are
sensible of their dishonour, and think it too great a
wrong to be dispens’d with; yet they will have the fruit
of their revenge through-ripe, before they taste it. He
appears no Changeling, but still pursues the strains of
his presumption. The actions of Injustice seldom lessen.
Progression is believ’d a moral Vertue. He that hath a
Will to do ill, and doth it, cannot look back but on
the Crown of mischief. This makes him not disguise
his conceptions, but shew them fully; having withal
this excellent Vertue, that would be never reconciled
where he once hated. The Lords observing his behaviour,
think time ill lost in so weighty a business; they
draw their forces together, before the King could have a
time to prevent, or his abuser to shun it.

The gathering together of so many threatning Clouds
presag’d the Storm was a coming: Gaveston labours to
provide a shelter, but ’twas too late; the time was lost I that I1v 30
that should assure the danger: All that he could effect
by his own strength, or the Royal Authority, he calls to
his assistance, (but such was the general distaste of the
Kingdom, he could not gain a strength might seem a
party.) The Court he knew would be a weak Protection
against their Arms, whose Tongues had twice
expell’d him. This made him leave it, and with such
Provision as so short a time could tender, commit himself
Seize Gaveston
at Scarborough-

Castle
;
to Scarborough-Castle. This Piece was strong, and
pretty well provided, but prov’d too weak against so
just a Quarrel. His noble Enemies being inform’d where
they should finde him, follow the track, and soon begirt
this Fortress. He seeks a Treaty; they despise Conditions,
knowing he none would keep, that all had broken.
All hope thus lost, he falls into their power from whom
he had no cause could hope for mercy. The Butterflies,
companions of his Sun-shine, that were his fortunes
friends, not his, forsake his Winter, and basely leave him
in his greatest troubles. The tide of Greatness gain’d
him many Servants; they were but hangers on, and meer
Retainers, like Rats that left the house when it was falling.
The Spring adorn’d him with a world of Blossoms,
which dropt away when first they felt this Tempest.
Forsaken thus, this Cedar is surpriz’d, and brought to
know the end of such ambition. The Prey thus tane,
short work concludes his story, left that a Countermand
might come to stop their Verdict: Gaverseed is made
and behead
him.
the fatal place that sacrific’d his life to quench their
fury.

Thus fell the first glorious Minion of Edward the Second;
which appearing for a time like a Blazing-star, fill’d
the world with admiration, and gave the English cause
to blame his fortune, that liv’d and died, nor lov’d, excus’d,
or pitied. In the wanton Smiles of his lovely
Mistriss, he remembers not that she was blinde, a Giglet,
and a Changeling; nor did he make himself in time a
Refuge might be his Safeguard. If she had prov’d unconstant,constant, I2r 31
such a Providence had made the End as fair as
the Beginning. But these same towering Summer-birds
fear not the Winter, till they feel it; and then benumb’d,
they do confess their Errour. Height of Promotion
breeds Self-love; Self-love, Opinion; which undervalues
all that are beneath it. Hence it proceeds, that
few men, truely honest, can hold firm Correspondence
with so great a Minion; his ends go not their ways, but
with Cross-capers, which cares not how, so these attain
perfection. Servants that are confin’d to truth and
goodness, may be in shew, but not in trust, their Agents.
He that will act what Pride and Lust imposeth, is a fit
Page to serve so loose a Master. Hence it proceeds,
that still they fall unpitied; and those they chuse for
Friends, do most supplant them. To secure an ill-acquired
Greatness that is begot with envy, grows in hatred;
as it requires judgment, claims a goodness to keep
it right, and grave direction. Those that are truely
wise, discreet, and vertuous, will make him so that pursues
their counsel; upon which Rock he rests secure
untainted. But this is Country-Doctrine Courts resent
not, where ’tis no way to thrive, for them are honest.
A Champion-Conscience without bound or limit, a
Tongue as smooth as Jet that sings in season, a bloudless
Face that buries guilt in boldness; these Ornaments are
fit to cloath a Courtier: he that wants these, still wants
a means to live, if he must make his Service his Revenue.
He that a Child in Court grows old, a Servant expecting
years or merit should prefer him, and doth not by
some by-way make his fortune, gains but a Beard for all
his pains and travel; unless he’ll take a Purse, and for
reward, a Pardon. Though many rise, it is not yet concluded
they all are of so base corruption which would
produce a sudden Ruine. The greater Peers by birth
inherit fit place in this Election. The Kings favour, or
their intercession, may advance a deserving Friend or
Kinsman; extraordinary Gifts of Nature, or some Excellencycellency I2v 32
in knowledge may prefer him that enjoys them;
all these beams may shine on men that are honest. But
if you cast your eye upon the gross body of the Court,
and examine the ordinary course of their gradation, it
will plainly appear, that twenty creep in by the back-
gate, while one walks up by the street-door. But leaving
those to their fortune, and that cunning conveyance
must guide their Destiny; when the sad tidings of
this unhappy Tragedy came to the Kings ears, his vexations
were as infinite as hopeless, and his Passion transports
him beyond the height of sorrow, which leads
him to this bitter Exclamation.

The King’s
Exclamation
on the
news, vowing
revenge.
“Could they not spare his Life, O cruel Tygers? What
had he done, or how so much offended? He never shed
one drop of harmless blood, but saved thousands. Must
he be sacrificed to calm their anger? ’Twas not his fault, but
my affection caused it; which I’ll revenge, and not dispute
my sorrow. They, if I live, shall taste my just displeasure,
and dearly pay for this their cruel errour. Till now
I kept my hand from blood and fatal actions; but henceforth
I will act my Passions freely, and make them know I
am too much provoked. Blood must have blood, and I will
spend it fully, till they have paid his wandring Ghost their
forfeit. And thou, O sweet Friend, whom living I so
loved, from thy sad Urn shalt see thy wrong requited.
Thy Life as I mine own did dearly value, which I will
loose, but I’ll repay their rigour.”

This said, he withdraws him to his melancholy
Chamber, and makes himself a Recluse from the Daylight.
His manly tears bewray his inward sorrow, and
make him seem to melt with height of Passion; He
could not sleep, nor scarce would eat, or speak but
faintly; which makes him living dye with restless torment.
His lovely Queen (not sorry that this bar was
taken away, which stopt the passage betwixt her Husbandsbands K1r 33
Love and her Affections) is truely pensive at this
strange distraction, which seem’d without the hope of
reconcilement. His nearer Friends amazed to see his
Passion, resolve to set him free, or loose his favour; boldly
they press into his Cell of darkness, and freely let
him know his proper errour. They lay before him,
how vain a thing it was to mourn or sorrow for things
past help, or hope of all redemption: His greatness
would be lost in such fond actions, and might endanger
him and eke the Kingdom: If he but truely knew what
desperate murmurs were dayly whisper’d by his vain distemper,
he would himself appear to stay the danger, and
to excuse the Barons act, so hateful: they touch upon the
Earls intemperate carriage, which threatned them and
all the Kingdoms ruine: they shew his insolence and
misbehaviour, which having Honour so far above his
birth, and Wealth above his merit, was ne’re contented.
Lastly, they tell him plainly, unless he would resume
more life and spirit, they fear’d the subject would make
choice of one more able.

The unworthy touches of his Minion, though but
sparingly given, nipt him to the Soul; but when he
heard the Tenour of their last Conclusion, it rows’d him
up, for fear of Deposition. This brings him forth in
shew and look transformed, but yet resolv’d not to forget
this Trespass. The Operations in his heart were
not so great and weighty, but that his Lords were full
as close and wary. So fair a warning-piece gave them
their Summons, in time to make a strength might keep
them sure. They cannot now recoyl, or hope for favour;
their Arms must make their Peace, or they must
perish. These circumstances made them preserve so
well a respected distance, that well the King might
bark, but durst not bite them: He was resolv’d, ’tis true,
but not provided, and therefore holds it wisdome to be
silent; the time he hop’d would change, and they grow
careless; when they should know such wrongs are not K forgotten. K1v 34
Henry Lacy,
Earl of
Lincoln,
dies,
13101310.
forgotten. But now brave Lincoln, one of the principal
Pillars of the Barons Faction, follows his adversary
to the grave, but with a milde and fairer fortune.
This reverend piece of true Nobility was in Speech and
Conversation sweet and affable, in resolution grave and
weighty; his aged temper active and valiant above belief,
and his Wisdome more found and excellent in
inward depth than outward appearance. When those
pale Harbingers had seized his vital Spirits, and he perceived
the thought of Life was hopeless, he gives Thomas
of Lancaster
, his Son-in-Law, this dying Legacy.

His dying-
Speech to
Tho.ThomasEarl of
Lancaster
,
his Son-in-
Law.
“My son,” (quoth he) “for so your Wedlock makes you, hear
and observe these my last dying Precepts. Trust not the
King; his Anger sleeps, but dyes not; he waits but time,
which you must likewise tender, else in the least neglect be
sure you perish. Make good my place among the Lords, and
keep the Kingdom from foul Oppression, which of late is
frequent. Your Soveraign cares not how the State be guided,
so he may still enjoy his wanton Pleasures; have you
an eye to those that seek to wrong him: be not deceived with
his sugar’d language; his heart is false, and harbours
Blood and Mischief. Keep your selves firm and close; being
well united you are secure, he will not dare to touch
you. If he again fall on a second Dotage, look to it in
time, ’twill else be your confusion. His Minions Death
lies in his heart concealed, waiting but time to act revenge
and terrour: he shadows o’re, but cannot hide his Malice,
which fain would vent it self, but yet it dares not. If I
had lived, he must have changed his copy, or one of us
had felt a bitter tryal; yet still beware you take not light
occasion, or make the publick ends for private Passion.
He is your Sovereign, you must so obey him, unless the Cause
be just enforc’d your moving. If he himself do swerve or
raise combustion, the Kingdoms good must give your Arms
their warrant: short time will let you know your own condition;
however, do not trust the sleepy Lion. I knew his ways, K2r 35
ways, and could as well forestal them; but now I must resigne
it to your wisdom. Of this be sure (remember my
Prediction) if he relapse, and make a new Vice-gerregent,
which shall leap o’re your heads, and you endure it, The
King, You, or the Kingdom must perish
. My wearied
Soul would fain embrace his freedom, and now my Spirits
yield to Death and Nature. Commend me to my noble
Friends and Fellows, and say, Old Lincoln liv’d and died
their Servant.”

Lancaster, whose noble heart was before-hand season’d,
receives willingly these grave Instructions, and like a
good Steward, locks them up in the closet of his heart,
till time call’d upon him to give them life and action;
and yet he suffers not this goodly Tree to fall, before
assured: He vows observance, and as truely keeps it; but
erring in the time, it wrought his Downfall. Beginning
Evils are easily supprest, which grown to strength, if
cleans’d, are cur’d with danger: Twigs may be broken,
younger Plants removed; but if once they grow Trees,
their Fall is fatal. Things standing thus, and all mens
minds in suspence what would be the issue between the
enraged King and jealous Lords, the indifferent friends
of either Party that fear’d this unkinde Division would
shake the Peace and Tranquillity of the Kingdom, propounded
divers Overtures of reconcilement; which are
neither readily accepted, nor absolutely refused. The
Kings Meditations were more fixed on Revenge than
Conference; yet seeing into the Quality of the time,
and into the suspected Affections of the Kingdom, is
won at length to admit of a Treaty.

The Barons truely rellishing the Tickle-terms they
stood on, which were pinn’d to the mutability of popular
Faction, were not estranged from the thoughts of
Peace, though they would not seek it. Intercession and
importunacy of the Mediators, brings it at length to
the upshot; where there was such an inveterate spleen, and K2v 36
and so great an antipathy in Wills, it is not thought fit
to hazard this great Work on a private discussion, where
Recapitulations of old Wrongs, or the apprehension of
new Indignities, might shake the Foundation. The
High Court of Parliament, the gravest Senate of the
Kingdom, that had an over-ruling Power to limit the
King, and command the Subject, is deemed the most
Honourable place of this Enterview, where a business of
so great weight would be gravely discours’d; which might
A Parliament
called.
assure the end, and make it more authentical. Whereupon
it is immediately call’d, and in short space assembled
at London; where, after many interchangeable Expostulations
diversly handled by the pregnant Wits and
nimble Tongues of either Party, a settled Agreement is
concluded, and many excellent Laws are enacted, which
both the King and Peers are sworn to maintain and
keep inviolate. By these discreet means the violence of
this great Fire is rak’d up in the Embers, which in aftertimes
breaks out with greater rage and fury: whatsoever
the hidden Resolutions were, the Kingdom now seem’d
in a fair way to settle Peace and Quiet. But a new and
unexpected Accident varies this Conceit before it was
cold, and calls them from private Actions, to maintain
the Honour and Revenue of the Kingdom.

The Scots
adhere to
Bruce, 13131313.
Edward the First, that brave and valiant Monarch,
had thrice with his victorious Arms run through the
Bowels of Scotland, and brought that stubborn Nation
(that deny’d him Fealty and Homage) into an absolute
Subjection. Their last precedent King, Robert le
Bruce
, had tryed the height of his fortune, and with a
fruitless opposition won no more than the loss of his
Kingdom, and his own Expulsion. The Conqueror finding
himself quitted of this Obstacle, takes upon him
the Regiment of this Kingdom, with a double string to
his Bow; the one of antient Title, the other of Conquest.
The Nobility of Scotland, and all the inferiour
Ministers of State, seeing the great Effusion of Bloud spent L1r 37
spent in this Quarrel, which continued, seemed to threaten
a general devastation of their Country, submit
themselves to the English Government, and are all solemnly
sworn to obey it. Edward thus in possession,
confirms it, by seizing the property of all the Royal
Jurisdiction into his own hand, removing such Officers
as were not agreeable to his will and liking, and giving
many goodly Estates and Dignities to divers of his
faithful Servants that had valiantly behaved themselves
in this Service. The Form of Government by him established,
was peaceably obey’d, and continued during his
Life; neither was it questioned in the beginning Government
of his unhappy Successor. But the wary Scots,
more naturally addicted to a Phoenix of their own Nation,
seeing into the present dissentions and disorders of
the Kingdom, thought it now a fit time to revolt to
their old Master, who like a crafty Fox harbours himself
under the French Kings protection (the antient receptacle
and Patron for that Nation.) No sooner is he
advertised that the gate was open and unguarded, and
that his well-affected Subjects wished his return, but back
he comes, and is received with a full applause and welcome.
All Oaths, Obligements, and Courtesies of the
English, are quite cancell’d and forgotten; and this long-
lost Lion is again re-invested in the Royal Dignity. Assoon
as he had moor’d himself in a domestique assurance,
he then like a provident Watchman begins to
raise a strength that might oppose all forreign Invasion,
which he foresaw would thunder from the Borders.
This Martial Preparation flyes swiftly to the King and
Council of England, where it appears like a great Body
upon a pair of Stilts, more in bulk than the proportion
of the strength that bare it. The Pillars of the
State, which wisely foresaw how great an inconvenience
it would be to suffer such a Member to be dissever’d,
that in the contestation with France would make the
War a Mattachine, or Song of three parts, perswade L their L1v 38
their Sovereign it was not proper for his Greatness to
suffer such an unworthy subversion of his Fathers Constitutions,
and to loose the advantage of so fair a part
of his Revenue.

Edward, that had outslept his native glory, had yet a
just compunction of this dishonour, which seem’d to
rob him of a portion of his Inheritance, purchased at
too dear a value. He lays by his private rancour, and
settles himself to suppress this sudden and unlookt-for
Commotion, waking from that sensual Dream, which
had given him so large a cause of Sorrow. Scarcely
would he give his intentions such an intermission, as
might attend the levy of his Army, which he had summoned
to be ready with all speed and expedition. The
jealous Lords startled with this Alarum, conceiting it
but some trick of State to catch them napping, they
suspect these Forces, under pretence of publick action,
might be prepared to plot a private mischief. The
King they knew was crafty, close, and cunning; and
thought not fit to trust too far to Rumour. This
makes them stand upon their guard, and keep Assemblies,
pleading for warrant the self-same ground of rising.
But when their Spies in Court had given them knowledge
that all was sure, they need not fear their danger, and
that they dayly heard the Northern clamour that ecchoed
The King
goes in person
against
the Scots,
13141314.
loudly with the Scotish motions, they draw their Forces
to the King’s; who thus united, in person leads them to
this hopeful Conquest. But forehand-reckonings ever
most miscarry; he had those hands, but not those hearts
which fought his Fathers fortune.

Scarce had he past and left the English Borders, but
he beholds an Army ready to affront him, not of dejected
Souls, or Bodies fainting, but Men resolv’d to
win, or dye with Honour. Their valiant Leader heartens
on their Courage, and bids them fight for Life,
Estate, and Freedome, all which were here at stake;
which this day gains, or makes hereafter hopeless. Edward, L2r 39
Edward, that expected rather submission, or some honest
Terms of agreement, finding a Check given by a Pawn,
unlook’d for, plays the best of his game, and hopes to
win it. He contemns their condition and number, slighting
their Power; and in the memory of his Father’s Conquests,
thinks his own certain. But the success of Battles
runs not in a Bloud, neither is gained by Confidence,
but Discretion and Valour. No one thing hurts more
in a matter of Arms, than Presumption: a Coward that
expects no mercy, is desperate by compulsion; and the
most contemptible Enemy proves most dangerous, when
he is too much undervalu’d. You may see it here instanc’d,
The King
defeated at
Banocksbourn
near Striveling.
where a rabble multitude of despised Blue-caps,
encounter, rout, and break the Flower of England:
Eastriveline doth yet witness the fatal memory of this
so great Disaster. There fell brave Clare the Earl of
Gloucester
, the valiant Clifford, and stout Mawle, with
above Fifty Knights and Barons. This bloudy day,
which had spilt so great a shower of Noble bloud, and
cropt the bravest Blossoms of the Kingdom, sends the
King back to Barwick with a few straggling Horse,
whose well-breath’d speed out-run the pursuing danger.
So near a Neighbourhood to so victorious an Enemy, is
deemed indiscretion, where the Prize was believ’d so
richly worth the Venture. This sends away the melancholy
King jaded in his hopes, and dull with his misfortune.
If we may judge by the Event, the Condition
of this man was truely miserable; all things at home,
under his Government, were out of rule and order; and
nothing successful that he undertook by forraign Employment:
but where the Ground is false, the Building
cannot stand; He planted the foundation of his
Monarchy on Sycophants and Favorites, whose disoderly
Proceedings dryed up all that sap that should
have fostered up the springing Goodness of the Kingdome,
and made him a meer stranger to those Abilities
that are proper to Rule and Government. Kings ought L2v 40
ought to be their own Surveyors, and not to pass over
the whole care of their Affairs, by Letter of Atturney,
to another mans Protection: such inconsiderate actions
beget a world of mischief, when there are more Kings
than one, in one and the self-same Kingdom; it eclipseth
his Glory, and derogates from his Greatness;
making the Subject groan under the unjust Tyranny of
an insolent oppression. No man with such propriety
can manage the griefs and differences of the Subject, as
the King, who by the Laws of God, Men, and Nature,
hath an interest in their Heart, and a share in their Affections.
When they are guided by a second hand, or heard
by a Relator, Money or Favour corrupts the Integrity,
and over-rules the course of Justice, followed at the
heels with Complaint and Murmur, the Mother of Discontent
and Mischief.

The unexpected return of the General of this ill-
succeeding Enterprize, filled the Kingdom with a well-
deserved Sorrow, and is welcom’d with a News as
Poydras of
Exeter
pretends
himself
King,
and the
King a
Changling.
strange, though not so full of danger. Poydras, a famous
Impostor, a Tanners Son, and born at Exeter, pretends
himself, with a new strain of Lip-cousenage, to be
the Heir of Edward the First, by a false Nurse chang’d
in his Cradle for the King now reigning. All Novelties
take in the itching ears of the Vulgar, and win either
belief or admiration. This Tale, as weak in truth as
probability, was fortunate in neither, only it exalts this
imaginary King to his Instalment on Northampton-Gallows,
where he ends the hour of his melancholy Government
His strange
Confession.
with as strange a Relation, which suggests,
That for two years space, a Spirit, in the likeness of a
Cat, had attended him as the chief Groom of his
Chamber, from whom in many secret Conferences he
had received the truth and information of this Mystery,
with assurance it would bring him to the Crown of
England. It was as great a fault in the Master to believe,
as for the servant to abuse; yet the desire of the one M1r 41
one to change his Tanfat for a Kingdom, was not much
out of square; nor the Lying of the other, since he
continued but his trade which he had practis’d from
the beginning. It is a foul offence and oversight in
them that have not Devils of their own, to hunt abroad
and seek where they may gain them by purchase.
If it be a mystery of State to know things by Prediction
of such vertuous Ministers, methinks they were much
better kept, as this Tanner kept his, rather as an houshold-Servant,
than a Retainer; which may in time bring
them to a like Preferment: Such Agents may seem
Lambs, but in the end they will be found as savage as
Tygers, and as false as the Camelions. Till now our
wanton King had never felt the true touch of a just
grief; but mens misfortunes alter their impressions; he
inwardly and heartily laments his own dishonour, yet
strives to hide and conceal his Sorrow, lest those about
him might be quite dejected. It was a bitter Corrosive
to think, how oft his Royal Father had displaid his
victorious Colours, which knew not how to fight unless
to conquer: How often had he over-run this Neighbour-Nation,
and made them take such Laws as he
imposed? How many times had he overthrown their
greatest Armies, and made them sue they might become
his Subjects? The memory of this doth vex his
Spirits, and makes him vow Revenge and utter Ruine.
He calls to Council all his Lords and Leaders, and lays
before them the antient Glory of the Kingdom, the
late Misfortune, and his proper Errours, and lastly his
desire to right his Honour. They glad to hear the King
in the sense of so general a disgrace touch’d with so
noble a strain, do spur it on before it cool’d, or the
Scots should grow too proud of their new Glory. The
former Loss had toucht so near the quick, that there
is now a more wary Resolution: Dispatches are sent
out for a more exact and full provision; a mature Consideration
is thought necessary before it come to action: M York M1v 42
York is made the Cabinet for this grave Council, there
The King
goes a second
time
against the
Scots.
the King soon appears, attended by all the bravest and
ablest Spirits of the Kingdom. The act of the first conference
tends to the security of Berwick, the street-door
of the North, and principal Key of the borders. This
care with a full provision is committed to the Fidelity
Sir Peter
Spalden

made Governour
of
Barwick.
and Valour of Sir Peter Spalden; who undertakes the
charge, being plentifully furnisht, and promiseth defence
against the united Power of Scotland. This unfortunate
King was as unhappy in Councel as in Action. A short
time shews this unworthy Knight to the world false and
perfidious. Robert le Bruce, that had this Strength as a
mote in his eye, conceived it by force almost impregnable;
this made him seek to undermine it by corruption,
Who betrays
it to
the Scots,
13181318.
and aloof off to taste the palate of this new Governour.
The Hook was no sooner baited, but the Trout falls a
nibbling; ready Money, and a specious promise of an
expectant Preferment, makes this Conspiracy perfect,
which at one blow fells the Town, with all its warlike
Provisions, and the treacherous Keeper’s Reputation and
The Pope
sends over
two Cardinals,
to mediate
a
Peace.
Honour. The Pope, who with a pious and a truely
compassionate eye beheld the misery of this Dissention,
and the unnatural effusion of so much Christian Bloud,
seeks to reform it; and to this effect, sends over two of
his Cardinals to mediate a Peace, and to compose, if it
might be, the differences in question. They being arrived
in England, come down into the North to the
King, by whom they are with great Ceremony, according
to the fashion of those Religious Times, received
and welcomed. They discourse to him the occasion
of their Employment, and encline him with many excellent
and vertuous motives to embrace a Peace with
Scotland. The greenness of the Disgrace, and the
late Wound yet bleeding new, kept him in a long
demurrer. Yet the holy and milde prosecution of
these holy Fathers won him at length to their Mediation,
with a proviso that he were not too far prejudiced in M2r 43
in Interest and Honour. With this Answer they take
their leave, and prosecute their Journey for Scotland;
Who atre
robbed at
Derlington.
but with an example full of barbarous Inhumanity, they
are in the way surpriz’d and robbed. Infinitely is the
King incens’d with this audacious act, which threw so
foul a stain upon the whole Nation; which causeth a
strict inquisition for the discovery of these Malefactors,
Sir Gilbert de
Middleton

and Sir
Walter de
Selby
executed
for
the same.
which are soon known and taken. Middleton and Selby,
both Knights, expiate the offence with their shameful
Execution. The persons of Embassadours amongst the
most savage Nations are free from rapine; but being
cloathed in the habit of Religion and such a Greatness,
and going in a work so good and glorious, certainly it
was an act deserv’d so severe a punishment. Immediately
at the heels of this, follows another Example less infamous,
Sir Josline
Denvile

with certain
Ruffians infest
the
North.
but far more full of danger. Sir Josline Denvile,
having wasted his estate, and not able to lessen the
height of his former expences, gets into his society a Regiment
of Ruffians, terming themselves Out-laws: with
these he infests the North with many outragious Riots;
insomuch that no man that had anything to loose, could
be secure in his own house from Murder, Theft and Rapine.
A little time had brought this little Army, rowling
like a Snow-ball, to the number of 200; all the diseased
flux of the corrupted humours of those parts flye
to this Imposthume. An Attempt so impudent and daring
flyes swiftly to the Kings knowledg. Report, that seldom
lessens, makes the danger far greater than it deserv’d:
The Royal ear conceits it little better than a
flat Rebellion, whose apprehension felt it self guilty of
matter enough to work on. This made an instant levy,
and as ready a dispatch for the suppression of the flame,
while it but burnt the suburbs. Experience soon returns,
the Fear is found greater than the Cause; the
principal Heads and Props of this Commotion are surprized,
and fall under the severity of that Law, whose
protection they in this enterprize had absolutely disclaimed.claimed. M2v 44
Those that more narrowly examin’d the depth
of this Convention, believ’d it but a masque for a designe
more perillous. The intemperate and indiscreet
Government had alien’d the hearts of this People; there
was a general face of Discontent over the whole Kingdome;
the Ulcers fester’d dayly more and more; the
Scotish disaster is ascribed to the Regal weakness, and
all things seem’d to tend to quick confusion. If this unadvised
and ill-grounded disorder had tasted the general
inclination in a more innocent and justifiable way, it
was constantly believed the King had sooner felt the
publick Revolt of the whole Kingdom: But this work
was reserved till a farther time, and the operation of
those that had the opportunity of effecting it with more
power, and a fairer pretence of Justice. It is a very
dangerous thing when the Head is ill, and all the Members
suffer by his infirmity. Kings are but men, and
Man is prone to Errour; yet if they manage their distempers
with Wisdome or Discretion, so that they lye
not open to publick view and censure, they may be
counted faults, but not predictions: but when the heart
is gangren’d, and the world perceives it, it is the fatal
mark of that infection, which doth betoken ruine and
The Cardinals
return.
destruction. The Cardinals are now come back, the
hopes of Peace are desperate; the Scots are on the Sunny-
side of the hedge, and will have no Conditions but such
as may not be with Honour granted. Edward inflam’d,
will have no farther Treaty; this makes them take their
leave, and hasten homeward. Their Losses liberally
are requited, and many goodly Gifts bestow’d at parting.
Being come to Rome, they inform his Holiness of
the success of their journey; who takes ill the contumacy
The Pope
Excommunicates
the
Scotch King
and Kingdom.
of the perfidious Scots, and excommunicates both
that King and Kingdom. But this thunderbolt wrought
a small effect; where Honesty had so little an acquaintance,
Religion must needs be a great stranger. The
loss of Barwick, and the disgrace of his first Overthrow, calls N1r 45
calls the King to adventure a Revenge, which he thinks
he had too long adjourned. He makes it a disputable
question, whether he should besiege Barwick, or invade
Scotland; but the consideration thereof is referr’d
till the moving of the Army, which is advanc’d with all
speed possible. Men, Arms, and Money, with all such
other Provisions as were as well fit to continue the
War as begin it, are suddenly ready in full proportion.
The Army attends nothing but the King’s Person, or
some more lucky General to lead it. In the knowledg
he looseth no time, but appears in the Head of his
Troops, and leads them on, making an armed hedge about
King Edw.Edward
besieges
Barwick.
Barwick, before his enemies had full knowledg of
his moving. The Council of War thought it not expedient
to leave such a thorn in the heel of so glorious
an Army. The Scots thought it too great a hazard to
attempt the breach of so strong a body, so excellently
intrencht and guarded; the memory of former passages
made them entertain this War with less heat, but with
a more solid judgment. Barwick they knew was strong
by Art and Nature, and fully provided to hold the English
play, till Want and the Season of the Year did
make them weary. This made them leave the road-
way, and continue the War more by Discretion than
Valour. But during these passages, the Divine Justice
sends down the other three fatal executioners of his
A great
Dearth,
which lasted
three
years.
wrath, Plague, Dearth, and Famine; no part is free,
but hath his portion of one or all of these so cruel Sisters.
To make this misery more perfect, the wylie
Scots taking the advantage of the King’s fruitless encamping
The Scotch
over-run
the Borders.
before Barwick, like a land-flood over-run the
naked Borders, and boldly march forward into the
Country, with Fury, Blood, and Rapine. The stuff
that should stop this breach, was absent with the King,
The ArchBishop
of

York
opposeth
them.
so that they finde no rub in their eruption. The ArchBishop
of
York
, a Reverend Old man, but a young Souldier;
able enough in his element, but ignorant in the N Rules N1v 46
Rules of Martial Discipline, resolves to oppose this unruly
devastation; he straightways musters up his Congregations,
and gives them Arms, that knew scarce use of
Iron. Soon had his example collected up a multitude,
in number hopeful; but it was composed of men fitter
to pray for the success of a Battle, than to fight it.
and is beaten
at Milton
upon
Swale
.
With these, and an undaunted Spirit, he affronts his
Enemies, and gives them an encounter, making Milton
upon Swale
more memorable by the blood of this
Disaster. His Victorious and Triumphing Enemies
christned this unhappy Conflict in derision, The white
Battle
. Many Religious-men, with loss of their Lives,
purchas’d here their first Apprentiship in Arms, and
found that there was a dangerous difference betwixt
fighting and praying. The intent of this grave Bishop
was certainly noble and worthy; but the act was inconsiderate,
weak, and ill-advised. It was not proper
to his Profession, to undertake a Military Function, in
which his hope in reason answer’d his experience; neis
ther did it agree with the Innocency and Piety of his
Calling, to be an actor in the effusion of Blood,
though the quarrel were defensive, but by compulsion.
But questionless he meant well, which must excuse his
action. Too great a care improperly exprest, doth
often loose the cause it strives to advantage. In all deliberations
of this nature, where so many Lives are at
stake, there should be a deep foresight even in matter of
circumstance; and the quality as well of our own, as of
our adversaries, duely considered; else with a dangerous
errour we leave the success to the will of Fortune,
who in nothing is more tickle and wanton, than in the
event of Battles, which are seldom gain’d by multitude,
the Mother of Confusion. To be a General, is an act of
greatness, and doth require a great and perfect Knowledge,
ripe by Experience, and made full by Practice.
It is not enough to dare to fight, which is but Valour;
but to know how and when, which makes it perfect. Discretion N2r 47
Discretion and Judgment sometimes teach advantage,
which make (the weight being light) the scale more
even. I will not deny, but the most expert Leader may
have all these, and yet may loose a Battle; since (as
all things are) this great designe is guided by a Divine
Providence; and many Accidents may happen betwixt
the Cup and the Lip, while things are in action. But
he that hath a well-grounded and warrantable reason for
his Engagement, may lose the day, and yet preserve his
Honour. Wise-men do censure Errours, not Events of
Actions, which shew them good or bad, as they be
grounded. The News of the Defeat of this Spiritual
The King
leaves Barwick.
Army, like the voice of a Night-raven, had no sooner
croakt his sad eccho in the King’s ear, but he straight
raiseth his Army, weaken’d with Famine, and lessen’d
with Sickness. The prigging Scots seeing his going off,
judge his Retreat little better than a plain flight; which
gave them heart to set upon the fag-end of his Troops,
which they rout and break, to the astonishment of the
whole Army. This done, they return, and think it
honour enough they had done the work they came for.
The King doubles his pace homewards; instead of Triumph,
glad he had got loose from so imminent a danger.
This blank return fill’d the Kingdom with a fretting murmur,
and forreign Nations thought their Valour chang’d,
who had so oft before o’recome this Nation. Mated
with grief, opprest with shame and sorrow, Edward
exclaims against his wayward Fortune, that made his
Greatness, like the Crab, go backward; while he seeks
to improve, the opinion of his worth he impairs, and
grows still leaner; and when he shuns a taint, he findes
a mischief. Sadly he now resolves no more to tempt
her; he lays aside his Arms, for harms to feed his humour.
His Vanities (companions of his Greatness) had
slept out the night of these combustions; he now awakes
them, with a new assurance they should possess
their former mansion. His wandring eyes now ravage through N2v 48
through the confines of his great Court, made loose by
King seeks
a new Favorite.
his example. Here he seeks out some Piece, or Copper-
metal, whom by his Royal stamp he might make currant.
He findes a spacious choice, being well-attended,
but ’twas by such as made their tongues their fortunes;
Vain-glory here found none to cure it, and the sick
heart ne’re felt the touch of Wormwood. The Agents
were compos’d of the just temper, as was the spring
that gave their tongues their motion; such an harmonious
Consort fits the Organ, that lov’d no flats nor
sharps, or forc’d division. No language pleas’d the
King, (the Servants know it) but that which was as
smooth as Gold new burnisht. Old antient truth was,
like a thread-bare Garment, esteem’d a foul disgrace
to cloath a Courtier. Sincerity was no fit Master for
these Revels, nor honest Plainness for a seat in Council.
This made this King, this Court, and glorious Kingdom,
fall by degrees into a strange confusion. The Infidelity
of Servants cloathed in hypocrisie, betrayes the Master,
and makes his misery greater or less dangerous,
according to the qualities of their employments. It is
an excellent consideration for the Majesty of a King, in
election, to reflect on Goodness, Truth, and Ability, for
his attendance, more than the natural parts, or those
that are by Art and Cunning made pliable to his Disposition.
The first prove the props of Greatness, the
other the instruments of Danger and Disorder; which
makes the Master at best pitied, but most commonly
hated and suspected. Neither is it safe for the Royal
ear to be principally open to one mans information, or
to rely solely on his judgment. Multiplicity of able
Servants that are indifferently (if not equally) countenanced,
are the strength and safety of a Crown, which
gives it glory and lustre. When one man alone acts
all parts, it begets a world or errour, and endangers
not only the Head, but all the members.

Edward could not but know, that a new President over O1r 49
over his Royal actions, must make his Subjects his but
at a second hand; yet he is resolv’d of a new choice,
of such a Favourite as might supply and make good the
room of his lost beloved Gaveston; hence sprung that
fatal fire which scorcht the Kingdom with intestine
Ruine. He was put to no great trouble to seek a forreign
Climate; he had variety of his own, that might be
easily made capable enough for such a loose employment.
He had a swarm of Sycophants that gap’d after
greatness, and cared not to pawn their Souls to gain
Spencer taken
into favour.
promotion; amongst these his eye fixt on Spencer, a
man till then believ’d a naked States-man; he was young,
and had a pleasing aspect; a personage though not
super-excellent, yet well enough to make a formal Minion.

The Ladder by which he made his ascent, was
principally thus: he had been always conformable to
the King’s Will, and never denied to serve his appetite
in every his ways and occasions; which was vertue
enough to give him wealth and title. Some others think
this feat was wrought by Witchcraft, and by the Spells
of a grave Matron, that was suspected to have a Journey-
man Devil to be her Loadstone: which is not altogether
improbable, if we behold the progression; for
never was Servant more insolently fortunate, nor Master
unreasonably indulgent. Their passages are as much
beyond belief, as contrary to the Rules of Reason.
But leaving the discourse of the Cause, the King applauds
his own Workmanship, and doats infinitely on
the Non-age of this Imposture, which seeing the advantage,
labours to advance it; and though in his own
nature he were proud, harsh, and tyrannous, yet he
cloaths himself in the habit of Humility, as obsequious
to his Master, as smooth and winning to his Acquaintance;
knowing that a Rub might make the Bowl fall
short while it was running: Heat of Blood, and height
of Spirit, consult more with Passion than Judgment; O where O1v 50
where all sides are agreed, quick ends the bargain.
Spencer must rise, the King himself avows it; and who
was there durst cross their Sovereigns pleasure? The
resolution known, like flocks of Wild-geese, the spawn
of Court-corruption fly to claw him. The great ones
that till now scarce knew his Off-spring, think it an honour
to become his Kinsmen: The Officers of State,
to win his favour, forget their Oaths, and make his Will
their Justice. Lord, how the Vermin creep to this warm
Sun-shine, and count each Beam of his a special Favour!
Such a thing is the Prologue of a beginning Greatness,
that it can Metamorphose all but those that hate it.

The King, though he were pleased with this new
structure, yet his inward revolutions were not altogether
free from agitation. He beheld the Lords and
Kingdom now quiet, and the Scotch Tragedy worn out
of memory; he was not without cause doubtful, whether
this new Act might not cause a new Distraction:
He calls to minde the ground of his first troubles, and
found it had with this a near resemblance; He looks
upon the sullied State scarce cleansed, and fear’d this
leap might cause a new pollution. These thoughts, like
misty vapours, soon dissolved, and seem’d too dull to
feed his Love-sick fancy. His hatred to the Barons bids
him freely venture; that in their moving he might so oppress
them, which on cool blood might seem too great
Injustice. Gaveston’s Death lay in his heart impostum’d,
not to be cur’d, but by a bloody issue. From this false
ground he draws his proper ruine, making Phantasms
seem as deeds were acted. Such Castles in the Air are
poor Conceptions, that fell the Skin before the Beast be
killed. The Barons were no children, he well knew
it; the hope was little might be got with striving, where
all the Kingdom was so much distasted; but he priz’d
high his own, contemning theirs, which wrought their
Death, and after his Misfortune. Being resolv’d to countenance
his Will with more haste than advisement, He honours O2r 51
honours the subject of his choice with the Lord Chamberlain’s
place, professing freely he thought him worthy,
and would maintain him in it. This foreright jump
going so high, made all men wonder, and soon suspect
him guilty of some secret vertue. Scarce had this new
great Lord possession of the White-staff, but he forgets
his former being, and sings the right Night-crow’s tune
of upstart Greatness, and follows his Predecessors pattern
to the life, but with a far more strength and cunning.
He was not born a stranger or an alien, but had
his Birth and breeding here, where he is exalted; and
though he had not so much depth to know the Secrets,
yet understands the plain-Song of the State, and her
progressions, which taught him his first Lesson, That
Infant-greatness falls where none support it: From this
principle, his first work is employ’d to win and to preserve
an able party. To work this sure, he makes a
Spencers policy.
Monopoly of the Kings ear, no man may gain it but
by his permission; establishing a sure intelligence within
the Royal Chamber; not trusting one, but having
sundry Agents, who must successively attend all motions.
By this he wedgeth in his Sentinels at such a
distance, that none can move, but he receives the
Larum. The first request he makes his Sovereign (who
ne’re denied him) was, that he would not pass a Grant,
till he survey’d it; for this he makes a zealous care the
cover, lest by such Gift the Subject might be grieved,
the King abused. This stratagem unmaskt, gave perfect
knowledge, who ever leapt the Horse he held the Bridle,
which rein’d his foes up short, while friends unhors’d
them; and raised as he pleased all such as brib’d or
sought him. To mix these serious strains with lighter
objects, he feeds the current of his Sovereign’s Vices
with store of full delights, to keep him busied, whilst
he might act his part with more attention. He quarrels
those whom he suspects too honest, or at the least not
his more than their Masters, and quickly puts them off, that O2v 52
that there may be entry for such as he prefers, his proper
creatures; so that a short time makes the Court all of
a piece at his Commandment. Those whom he fear’d
in State would cross his workings, he seeks to win by
favour or alliance; if they both fail, he tenders fairly
to lift them higher by some new promotion, so he may
have them sure on all occasions; and with these baits
he catcht the hungry Planets. Such as he findes too
faithful for surprisal, these he sequesters, mounting his
Kindred up to fill their places. The Queen, that had no
great cause to like those Syrens, that caus’d her grief,
and did seduce her Husband, he yet presumes to court
with strong professions, vowing to serve her as a faithful
Servant. She seeing into the quality of the time,
where he was powerful, and she in name a Wife, in
truth a Hand-maid, doth not oppose, but more increase
his Greatness, by letting all men know that she receiv’d
him. To win a nearer place in her opinion, he gains
his Kindred places next her person; and those that were
her own, he bribes to back him. The Court thus fashion’d,
he levels at the Country, whence he must gain
his strength, if need enforc’d it. Here he must have an
estate, and some sure refuge; this he contrives, by begging
the Custody of divers of the principal Honours and
Strength of the Kingdom. But these were no inheritance
which might perpetuate his Memory, or continue
his Succession. He makes a Salve for this Sore; and
to be able to be a fit Purchaser of Lands, by the benefit
of the Prerogative he falls a selling of Titles, in which
it was believ’d he thriv’d well, though he sold many
more Lordships than he bought Mannors; by this
means yet he got many pretty retiring places for a younger
Brother, within the most fertil Counties of the Kingdom.
This for the Private, now to the Publick; he
makes sure the principal Heads of Justice, that by them
his credit might pleasure an old Friend, or make a new
at his pleasure. If in this number any one held him at too P1r 53
too smart a distance, prizing his integrity and honour
before so base a traffique, he was an ill Member of State,
and either silenced, or sent to an Irish or Welsh Employment.
It is enough to be believ’d faulty, where a
disputation is not admitted. The Hare knows her ears
be not horns, yet dares not venture a Tryal, where
things must not be sentenc’d as they are, but as they
are taken. The Commanders that sway most in Popular
Faction, as far as he durst or might without combustion,
he causeth to be conferr’d on his Friends and
Kindred; and above all things, he settles a sure Correspondence
of Intelligence in all the quarters of the
Kingdome, as a necessary leading president: he
fills the peoples ears with rumour of forreign danger, to
busie their brains from discoursing Domestick Errours;
and sends out a rabble of spying Mercuries, who are
instructed to talk liberally, to taste other mens inclinanations,
and feel the pulses of those that had most cause
to be discontented. For the antient Nobility, which
was a more difficult work to reduce to conformity, laying
aside the punctilio’s of his greatness, he strives to
gain them as he won his Master; but when he found
them shy and nice to make his party, he slights them
more and more, to shew his Power, and make them
seek to entertain his favour. And to eclipse their
Power by birth and number, he findes the means to
make a new Creation, which gave the Rabble-Gentry
upstart Honours, as Children do give Nuts away by
handfuls; yet still he hath some feeling of the business.
Lastly, he wins the King to call his Father to the Court,
who with the shoal of all his Kin are soon exalted,
while he makes all things lawful that correspond his
Will, or Masters Humour. He thus assuming the administration
of the Royal affairs, his Master giving way
The Barons
incensed.
to all his actions, the incensed Lords grown out of patience,
appoint the rendevouz of a secret Meeting at
Sharborough, where they might descant their griefs with P more P1v 54
more freedom, yet with such a cautelous Secrecy, that
this Harpy with his Lyncean eyes could not perceive their
anger. Assoon as they were met, Thomas of Lancaster,
the most eminent of this Confederacy, in a grave discourse
lays before them the Iniquity of the time, the Insolency
of this new Ganymede, and the Kings intemperate
wretchlesness, which made the Kingdom a prey
to all manner of Injustice. Hereford adviseth, that they
should all together petition the King, that he would be
pleased to look into the Disorders, and grant a Reformation.
Mowbray, Mortimer, and the rest, soar a higher
pitch, which Clifford thus expresseth.

Clifford’s
Speech.
“My Lords, It is not now as when brave Lincoln lived,
whom Edward fear’d, and all the Kingdom honoured. Nor
is this new Lord a Gaveston, or naked Stranger, that only
talkt, and durst not act his Passions. We now must have
to do with one of our own Country, which knows our ways,
and how to intercept them: See you not how he weaves
his webs in Court and Country, leaving no means untryed
may fence his greatness? And can you think a verbal Blast
will shake him, or a set Speech will sink his daring Spirit?
No, he is no fantastick Frenchman, but knows as
well as we where we can hurt him: his Pride is such, he’ll
ne’re go less a farding; but he must fall a key, or we must
ruine. Women and Children make their tongues their Weapons;
true Valour needs no words, our wrongs no wrangling.
Say this unconstant King hear our Petition, admit
he promise to redress our Grievance; this sends us home
secure and well-contented, until the Plot be ripe for our destruction.
If you will needs discourse your cause of Grievance,
be yet provided to make good your errour; a wise
man gets his guard, then treats Conditions, which works
a Peace with ease and more assurance. All Treaties
vain, our Swords must be our warrant, which we may
draw by such a just compulsion: those ready, then attempt
your pleasure, and see if words can work a Reformation. I P2r 55
I am no tongue-man, nor can move with language; but if
we come to act, I’ll not be idle: Then let us fall to Arms
without disputing; We’ll make this Minion stoop, or dye
with honour.”

The Barons
take Arms.
This rough Speech, uttered with a Souldier-like liberty,
by one so truly noble and valiant, inflam’d the
hearts of such as heard them. They concur all in a general
approbation, and thereupon they fall to present Levies.
Mortimer, a brave young active Spirit, with his Retinue,
gains the maiden-head of this great Action. He enters
Mortimer
spoils Spencer’s
Possession.
furiously upon the possession of the Spencers, spoiling and
wasting like a profest enemy. This outrage flies swiftly
to the owners, and appears before them like Scoggins
crow
, multipli’d in carriage. They assoon make the King
the sharer of their intelligence, and increase it to their
best advantage. Edward sensible of so audacious an
affront, thought it did yet rather proceed from private
spleen than publick practice; which made him in the
The Kings
Proclamatition
thereon.
tenderness of the one, and malice to the other, by Proclamation
thus make known his pleasure, That the Actors
of this misdemeanour should immediately appear personally,
and shew cause, whereby they might justifie their
Actions, or forthwith to depart the Kingdom, and not to
return without his special License. When the tenour
of this Sentence was divulged, and come to the knowledge
of the Confederate Lords, they saw their interest
was too deeply at stake to be long shadow’d. In the obedience
of such a doom, the primitiæ of their Plot must receive
a desperate blemish. They therefore resolve, as
they had begun, so to make good and maintain the
quarrel; they reinforce their Forces, and draw them into
a body strong enough to boulster out their doings,
and to bid a base to the irresolute wanton King and his
inglorious Favourite, whose Platforms were not yet so
compleat, as that they durst adventure the Tryal of so
strong a Battery. Yet the more to justifie their Arms (which P2v 56
(which in the best construction seem’d to smatch of Rebellion)
they send unto the King a fair and humble
Message, the Tenor whereof lets him know, that
The Barons
Message to
the King.
“Their intentions were fair and honest; and that the Arms
thus levied, were to defend his Honour, and not offend
his Person. The Sufferings of the Kingdom were so deep
and weighty, that all was like to run to present ruine, unless
he would be pleas’d to cure this Feaver. In all humility
they desire he would sequester from his presence, and
their usurpt authority, those Instruments which acted this
disorder, and that their doings might receive a test by a fair
Tryal. To this if he give way, they would attend him
with all the expressions of a Loyal Duty; but if his heart
were hardned for denial, they then intreat his pardon that
would not be Spectators of the general mischief which drew
too swiftly on by this Distemper.”
The King receiving so
peremptory a Message, thinks this fair gloss a kind of
By-your-leave in spight of your teeth. He saw readily
how the Game went, and was loath to strike the Hive,
for fear the Swarm should sting him. Dearly he doted
on his Minion, yet conceiv’d it fitter he should a little
suffer, than they both should ruine, which probably
might soon ensue if they prevailed. He had no power
provided to withstand them, nor was he sure that time
would make it stronger; the Lords were well belov’d,
their quarrel pleasing, while he had nothing but the
name of King, might hope assistance. Now he condemns
bitterly his improvidence, that had not secur’d his
work before he acts it. Spencer, that saw himself thus
quite forestalled, and his great foresight in a manner
useless, since those whom he had made were but a handful,
and those of the poorer sort of weaker spirits, that
stow themselves in tempests under Hatches, knew ’twas
too late to think of opposition; and therefore perswades
his irresolute Master to subscribe to the present necessity:
yet so, that these angry Hornets might not be their own
Carvers. He knew, or at least believ’d, his faults were not Q1r 57
not yet Capital, yet could not tell what construction
might be given, if those which were his enemies were
admitted to be his sole Judges; and therefore made rather
choice to be at the mercy of a Parliament, than
at their disposing. He was not without hope to be able
to make an able party in this Assembly, where at worst
he knew he should be sentenc’d, rather by spleen than
fury. This resolution by the King approved, an answer
The Kings
Answer.
is return’d to the Lords: “That his Majesty having examin’d
the contents of their Petition, found therein a fair
pretext of Justice and reason; and that if their allegations
were such as were by them pretended, himself would with as
much willingness as they could desire, joyn in the act of
Reformation. But for as much as private Passion maskt it
self sometimes under the vail of publike grievance, and particular
ends had the pretext of general Reformation, he thought
it expedient to make this rather a Parliamentary work than
the act of his Prerogative, or their inforcement; which was
more sfor their proper Honours, and the good of the whole
Kingdom: which resolution if they thought fit to entertain,
he wisht them to lay down their Arms, which were the
marks rather of an intended violence, than a real desire of
Justice; that done, in the knowledg of their approbation, he
would speedily cause his Summons to be sent out for the calling
together of this great Assembly.”
The reception of this
answer was not displeasing to the Barons, who desir’d
those might be the Judges that had equally smarted with
the stripes of this affliction; yet they conceiv’d it not
wisdom to disband their Forces on a bare supposition;
which could not be yet continued, without too much
charge, and too great jealousie. To reconcile this, they
divide themselves, every one retaining to himself a
guard sufficient to assure his Person; and so dispose the
rest, that they might be ready on the least Item. Things
standing thus, the Writs and Proclamations for Election
are sent out, in which there was as much time won as
might be taken without suspition. Now is there stiff Q labouring Q1v 58
labouring on all sides (though not visibly, yet with underhand
working) to cause a major part in this Election;
which the Lords wisely foreseeing (as the main spring
that must keep all the wheels in their right motion) had beforehand
so provided for, that the engines of the adverse
Party serv’d rather to fright, than make a breach in the
rule and truth of this Election. The subjects sensible of
the disorders of the Kingdom, and seeing into the advantage
which promis’d a liberty of Reformation, make
choice of such as for their wisdome and integrity deserv’d
it; rejecting such as sought it by corruption, or might be
in reason suspected. This made the undertakers fall
short and wide of the Bow-hand.

The Barons
appear with
a strong
Guard.
The day of appearance being come, the jealous
Lords would not rely so much on the King’s good Nature,
but that they come up like themselves, bravely
attended with several Crews of lusty Yeomen, that
knew no other way to win their Landlords favour, but
with Fidelity and Valour. These, for distinction, and
that they might be known all Birds of a feather, are
suited in Cassocks with a white guard athwart; which
gave this the name of the Parliament of white Bends.
Spencer seeing the Retinue of his Adversaries, makes
himself a Rampire of all his Servants, Friends and Kindred.
The jealous Citizens, that sometime look beyond
their Shop-board, seeing such a confluence from all
parts of the Kingdom, and so ill-inclin’d, had a kinde
of shivering phantasie, left while these strong Workmen
fell a hammering, the Corporation might become the
Anvil. The Mayor, to prevent the worst, doubleth the
Guards, and plants a strong Watch to keep the Gates
and Suburbs. Now according to the usual Custome,
the Speaker is presented, and the King himself doth
thus discourse his pleasure, which they attend e’re they
begun this Session.

The King’s
Speech to
the Parliament.

“My Lords, and you the Commons of the Nether-House! I Q2r 59
I have at this time call’d you hither, to crave your aid,
advice, and best assistance. I am inform’d my Subjects
are abus’d, and that the Kingdoms welfare dayly suffers;
such actions I maintain not, nor will suffer. Sift out the
depth of this, and finde the Authors; which found, I’ll
punish as your selves think fitting. A Kingdomes weight
depresseth so his Owner, that many faults may scape his
eye unquestion’d; your Body is the Perspicil that shews
him what errours be, and how he may prevent them; which
leads both King and Subject to a settled quiet. Be not
too curious in your inquisition, which wastes but time, and
feeds diseased Passion; nor may you make those faults that
are not, which savours more of Envy than of Justice.
Actions of State you may not touch but nicely, they walk
not in the Road of vulgar Knowledge; these are high
Mysteries of private workings, which fore-right eyes can
never see exactly: You cannot blindfold judge their form or
substance. As all times are believ’d, these may be guilty;
yet let your Judgments make them so, not private Fancy,
which is the Nurse that suckles up confusion. So grave a
Senate should not be the meeting where men do hunt for
News to feed their malice. Nor may you trench too near
your Soveraigns actions, if they be such as not concern the
Publick: You would not be restrain’d that proper freedom,
which all men challenge in their private dwellings: My
Servants are mine own, I’ll sift their errours, and in your
just complaint correct their Vices. Seek not to bar me of a
free election, since that alone doth fully speak my Power:
I may in that endure no touch or cavil, which makes a
King seem lesser than a Subject. I know those I affect are
more observed, and Envy waits their actions, if not Hatred;
’twere yet Injustice they for this should suffer, or for
my Love, not their own Errours, perish. What one among
you would not be exalted, or be to me as he whom now you
aim at? Reason and Nature tye me to their limits, else
might you share it in a like proportion.”

“Ambition, that betrays poor Mans Affections, stares alwaysways Q2v 60
upwards, sees nothing beneath it, till striving to
o’rethrow some lofty Steeple, it stumbling falls in some foul
Saw-pit. Perhaps the Court is guilty of some Errours, the
Countrey is not free from worse Oppressions; yet these are
wav’d, as acts unfit your knowledge, which rob and tear
the poor distressed Commons, who must be still possest; my
greater Agents are the contrivers of this publick mischief,
while you by these make good your proper greatness. This
should not be, if you conceit it rightly; ’tis far from
Justice and a due Proportion, one man should fall, and
thousands stay unpunisht, that are more guilty far of foul
transgression. If you would sift, and with unpartial dealing
sweep from the Kingdom such unjust Oppressors, it
were a work of goodness worth your labour, would leave
to after-times a brave Example. But these Assemblies
think those acts improper, which may reflect upon the proper
freehold of those that are most nice, and apt to censure.
I now desire (it is your Soveraign speaks it) you will reform
this kinde of strange proceeding; prejudicate not any
till you finde him faulty, nor shoot your darts at one, where
more are guilty. In such a number diversly affected, there
are, I fear, too many thus affected, that this advantage
fits their private rancour, making the Publick Good the
stale and subject, which aims unvail’d at nought but Innovation.
These busie-brains, unfit to be Law-makers, let
graver Heads restrain by their discretions; else I must
make them know and feel my Power. I will support and
still assist your Justice, but may not suffer such a fond
distemper. Your Priviledge gives warrant, speak in freedome;
yet let your words be such as may become you;
if they flye out to taint my Peace or Honour, this Sanctuary
may not serve to give Protection; if so, some
discontent, or ill-affected Spirit may challenge Power to
vent a Covert Treason. But your own Wisdomes, I
presume, will guide you to make this such, that I may
often call you. What more is fit, or doth remain untouch’d,
you still shall understand in your progression, wherein R1r 61
wherein let Vertue lead, and Wisdome rule your temper.”

The king having ended, the several Members of this
goodly Body draw together; where notwithstanding
this grave admonition full of implicite direction, they
fall roundly to their business. For forms-sake, they a
while discourse the petty Misdemeanors of the Kingdom, to
make a fairer introduction into the main end of their
Assembly. A few Balls being tost and bandied to and
fro, they begin to crack the Nut where the Worm lay
that eat the Kernel. No sooner was the Vote of the
House discover’d, but informations fly in like Points, by
dozens; no business is discours’d which toucht the dishonour
of the King, the grief of the Kingdom, or the oppression
of the Subject, but straight flies upward, and
makes a noise that all had one beginning. The general
thus far questioned, the particulars come to a reckoning,
The Commons

Charge against
Spencer.
wherein Spencer is pointblanck charg’d with “Insolency,
Injustice, Corruption, Oppression, neglect of the publick and
immoderate advancement of his own particular”
. Those few
faint friends he had gotten into this number, more to
express their own abilities, than with a hope of prevailing,
hearing these thundering aspersions, rise up to
justifie, or if that fall short, to extenuate the faults of
their glorious Patron; but their Oratory prov’d, just like
the Cause they strive to defend, full of apparent falshood.
Those nimbler spirits that haunt the Ghosts of corrupted
greatness, seek not to Undermine this great Building,
whose structure had so hasty and rotten a Foundation,
but prove in reason, justice, and necessity, that it ought
to be Demolished, since it was the Spring that polluted
all the lesser Fountains. The places of Judicature being
still marted, the Purchaser must sell his Judgements;
which was a commerce fit for those that had the worst, and
were most diffident. The Simoniacal trading for Spiritual
promotions, as it dishonoured the dignity, so it must R exalt R1v 62
exalt such as knew better how to share their Flocks than
feed them. Bartring of Honour for private lucre, would
ruine the glory of antiquity in blood, and in another age,
as prodigal as this, make Lords as common as Drovers.
Possession of so many great offices, as it was an injury to
those of more deserving, so might it in time become a Monopoly
for every new-made Upstart. Setling the strengths
and Military Provision in the command of One so much insufficient,
must open the way to foraign loss, or domestick
mischief. Planting of the principal Officers of
the Common-wealth by one mans corrupt distribution,
must bring all to his guidance, and the Kingdom to confusion.
Admission of the Royal ear to one Tongue only,
ties all the rest, and resembles the Councel-chamber to
a School where Boys repeat their Lessons. These passages
discours’d and Aphorism’d at large in the House; at
the private Committee, divers fouler suspitions and aggravations
are treated with a greater freedom; which being
again with their several proofs reported before the
whole Body, by the general doom he is pronounced guilty.
This daring favourite seeing the violence of the Tide, begins
to fear it; and letting his Anchor fall, hulls out the
full Sea in the Royal Harbour; he strikes his top-sail, yet
contemns the Winds that cause the Tempest, and quarrels
with their Power must be his Judges. This takes away all
hope of reconcilement, and more inflam’d their hearts that
did pursue him. They know he now must fall, or they
must ruine. Lions may not be toucht, till they be sure,
lest breaking loose, they tear those Gins that catch them.
This consideration begets a solemn Messenger, well attended
with divers Seconds, to make a full relation both
of their Verdict and whole Proceedings.

The Spencers
banished.
The Lords being prepossest by their own knowledg, of
all the actions of this false Imposter, after a Conference and
grave discussion, pronounce their Sentence, “That the
Spencers, Father and Son, should both be forthwith sent
to live in Exile”
. This done, a grave Declaration is made R2r 63
made by both Houses, and presented to the King, expressing
the Tenour of their doom, and reasons moved them
to it. The King, as weak in his distractions, as wilful
in advantage, sees now there was no striving, unless he
would adventure his own hazard by such denial. No
time is now left for dispute; he ratifies the Sentence,
and present execution swiftly follows Judgment. Immediately
are these two great Courtiers carryed with more
attendants than they car’d for, unto the Port of Dover,
and straightways shipt, to seek some other Fortune.
The Son is no whit dejected, but bears up bravely:
He knew his Master’s Love, and scorn’d their Malice.
Parting, he takes a silent farewell full of rancour, which
vows revenge, and hopes to live to act it. The aged
Father, whose Guilt was less, and sorrow greater, deserv’d
in Justice Pity and Compassion; his snowie
Winter melts in tears, and shews his inward grievance;
bitterly he taxeth his Sons Pride, and his own Vanity,
exclaiming against the rigour of his fortune, that had
in the last act of his age cast him so cruelly from his
Inheritance, and at the very brink of the grave estrang’d
him from his Birth-right. He confesseth the improvidence
of his errour, which being rais’d by by-ways,
sought to keep it. Lastly, he wisheth his behaviour
had been such, that in this change might give him help
or pity; but it is the inseparable companion of Greatness
fraudulently gotten, not by Desert or Vertue, it
prefers falshood, and a kinde of shifting juggling, before
a winning truth of goodness, which draws with it a firm
assurance. Of all others, it is the most erroneous fond
opinion, which conceits Affections may be won and
continued in a subordinate way. They are the proper
Operations of the Soul, which move alone in their own
course, without a forc’d compulsion. Other ways may
serve as temporary provisions, but he that by a just
desert, and credit of his own worth, hath won the
Love of good men, hath laid himself a sure foundation:tion: R2v 64
This makes his Honour his own, and the Succession
permanent to his continuing praise and glory.
These “imperious” Servants thus removed, the elder, in
obedience of his Doom, makes a forreign Climate witness
The Son
turns Pirate.
his Submission. The younger, of a more impatient
and turbulent spirit, makes the spacious Sea the centre
of his dwelling. He would not trust to any other Nation,
since his own Climate so unkindly left him. The
King, yet scarcely weaned from his sorrow, makes yet
fair weather to the parting Barons; He thanks them for
their care and great discretion, which he would still acknowledge
and remember. Thus Kings can play their
parts, and hide their Secrets, making the Tongue the instrument
of sweetness, when that the Heart is full of
bitter Gall and Wormwood. They knew he juggled,
yet applaud his Goodness, and give him back an Answer
justly suiting; their Tongues seem’d twins, their
Hearts had both one temper, which at the length occasioned
all their ruine. And thus with the Enacting
of some few ragged Laws, He dissolves this Meeting.
Now is the Lost Chamberlain furrowing up the watery
sides of angry Neptune, wafting about the skirts of his
first dwelling: falling short in the possibility of revenge
of those he hated, he vows to make the harmless Merchant
feel it. What by surprize, and what by purchase,
he had made himself strong at Sea, and well provided;
with which he scowres the Coast, and robs all comers,
making a prize of all he rifled. Sometimes he slips into
the private Harbours, and thence brings out the Ships
were newly laden: such work to those that trade by Sea,
breeds strange amazement. A Piracy so strong and
daring, soon makes the terrour great, the clamour greater:
the Councel-table’s covered with Petitions, the
Royal ear is cloy’d with exclamations; all still enforce
that Trade must sink and founder, unless the King the
sooner did prevent it. Edward well knew their griefs,
and did believe them; but saw withal it was his Spencer caused S1r 65
caused them, whom he too well affected to pursue with
danger. He thinks it reason to ease his grievance ere
he right the Subject; let them expect and bite upon the
bridle, that they may taste the errour of their Judgment.
Necessity in time would make them seek their
quiet, the means whereof he thinks not fit to motion;
yet still he thunders out his shew of anger, and gives
directions that shipping should be rigg’d and mann’d,
well-furnish’d to bang this Pyrate off from his oppression,
whom he would take, or lose the Royal Navy; yet
under-hand he countermands these Precepts, pretending
present want for such provision as might make good at
full this Expedition; which should be done securely,
though delay’d. While thus the rage grows out of
this disorder, all Plaints prove fruitless, there was no
The Merchants
petition
the
King against
him.
provision. The flock of Merchants all appear before
him, letting him know the state they stood in; “Their
Stocks, his Custome must impair and minish, unless some
present course repress this Pyrate.”
The King gave Answer,
The Kings
Answer.
“He laments and pitied their Loss, his Wants, and
private Dangers, which in the instant was of such a nature,
that he had cause to fear his proper safety. The
Malecontents, that fish in troubled waters, were plotting
new Combustions to act their malice; he understood their
workings strong and cunning, which he was forc’d to stop
with haste, or loose the Garland. This was the cause he
could not yet go onward to help their griefs, which shortly
he intended; till which, he wisht their grave Deliberations
could fall upon some way might stop the current, and take
off Spencer from so curst proceeding, which he believ’d he
acted by enforcement, rather than Will to wrong his fellowSubjects.”
The Citizens, as naturally talkative as suspicious,
parting from the King forget their Losses, and
fall to a liberal discoursing upon the King’s words,
what the Plot of this great Treason might be. They
were not without a kinde of jealous suspicion, lest the
City might share in the sufferance, if it came to be acted. S A S1v 66
A little time brought this news to be the common discourse
of every Barbers shop and Conduit. To make
the suspition more authentical, the King makes a strong
Guard about his Person, sending forth directions to his
friends and all his well-affected subjects, that they should
enable themselves with the best strength they could, and
to be ready on occasion upon an hours warning. To
The King
writes to
the Lords.
lull the watchful Lords asleep, he addresses unto them
his particular Letters, full of humanity and gentleness,
“desiring as he most reposed on their loves and fidelity, so
that they would (if the necessity required) be ready to assist
him against a crew of disordered persons, who were secretly
contriving both the ruine of Himself, the antient Nobility,
and the Kingdom; their Plot was not yet ripe, and he
conceiv’d it in the reason of State, fit to have the Birds flush
before he caught them.”
The Lords, that in the first rumour
suspected it had some reflection on their particular, or a
meer noise without ground or substance; on the receipt
of this Letter alter their opinion, and believe there was
some real cause of this suspition. They knew the King
was wretchless, dull, and sleepy, and did not use to wake
but when it thunder’d; they think him short in depth
of so much judgment, as with a Jigg of State might catch
them naked. His Letter seem’d a character of truth, but
not of cunning; this kept them free from bdoubt, but not
from danger.


The Barons
Answer.

They send back an answer graciously received; “themselves,
their strengths and states should wait his Pleasure.”

These passages thus spent, the Citizens, that like no laws
but those of profit, do lay their heads together, to finde
out a way how to dispose things, so that they might
trade with safety. A cunning Enginier (one of the
Kings own making) avows there was no means but one
to make things sure, which was, to move the King to call
the Spencers home, and reconcile them. The sequel was
not fearful, since this Tryal would make them know
themselves, and be more quiet; if not, they yet might be S2r 67
be in distance where they might be surpriz’d if they offended.
This Proposition findes consent and liking in
the grave Brain of the deep Corporation: in stead of
punishment so well deserved, the Thief must be preferred,
to free the passage; yet to excuse their errour, they
saw the King had an itching inclination that way, and
were not without a hope that Spencer being by their
means recalled, would, of a profest enemy, become a
The Londoners
Petition
for
Spencers
return.
sure friend to the City. This gave them heart to draw
up their Petition, and immediately to present it to the
King; who having that he lookt for, in outward shew
seem’d nothing well contented. “He bids them examine
well the nature of their Petition, which run in a direct line
in opposition against a Parliamental sentence, and would
incense the reconciled Barons, against whose strength
he could not well oppose, but it must hazard him and all
the Kingdom. Yet if their wisdomes did think fit, in their
assur’d assistance he would venture, since he prefer’d their
good before his private. Though Spencer had transgrest
his will and pleasure, yet their intreaty should dispense his
errour, in hope he would become a new-made Subject.”
They
cry “God bless your Grace; revoke your Judgment, you
shall command our lives to back your goodness
.”
Edward
thus far on his way, causeth a Declaration to be
made, containing the request of his faithful subjects, and
beloved Royal Chamber of London, at whose importunate
intreaty he thought fit, out of his grace, and tenderness
of the general good, to recal the Spencers, who
had given sufficient caution for their future good abearing.
The Spencers
return.
This known, soon brings them back to grace and
favour: their petty thefts at Sea must have a sure way
to trade in; they must return to shave and rob the Kingdom,
’twas thought more fit, than they should rob the
Merchants. ’Tis strange to see what shift this poor King
made to work his own undoing. But when Religion’s lost,
and Virtue banisht, and men begin to trade with slights
and falshood, the end proves fatal, and doth lead them blind- S2v 68
blindfold into the ways that work their own destrusction.
The actions of a Crown are exemplar, and must be
perfect, clean, upright, and honest; their errours die not
with them, but are register’d in the story of their Lives
with Infamy or Honour: which consideration may in
justice beget a sincerity and cautelous respect from acting
under the pretence of policy, those stratagems which
seem, but are not fruit of Royal goodness. A like care
must be had in the limitation of affections, so that they
enforce him not to those ways, which at one blow
take from him his Judgment and his Honour. The
power Majestick is or should be bounded; and there is a
reciprocal correspondence, which gives the King the
obedience, the subject equal right and perfect justice,
by which they claim a property in his actions; if either
of these fall short, or prove defective by wilful errour,
or by secret practice, the State’s in danger of a following
mischief. The Spencers thus return’d, are reinvested
into their former high and wonted greatness: the burnt
Child fears the Fire; they know their danger, and not
attend the Storm until they feel it. Their Masters Plot
they second, and closely gain a strength for present
Action: That done, they appear with confidence, and
by main strength seek to crush those of the adverse
Sir Barthol.Bartholomew
Baldsmere’s

Castle
seised.
faction. Sir Bartholomew Baldsmere is the first that tasts
the Prologue; they seize upon his Castle of Leedes without
or Law or Title; he sues to have his own, but is rejected.
Their peremptory return, and the abrogation of
that Law that sent them packing, was provocation
enough; there needed not a second motive to enflame
the angry Barons: but when they understood the unjust
oppression of their confederate, and the daily levies that
were underhand made, they then conceive it time to
look about them. They finde the fruit of dalliance,
and visibly see into the Kings Plot, which had abus’d
them; condemning their credulity and coldness, that had
not spoil’d the brood while it was hatching. The King, who T1r 69
who had so oft been catcht, was now more wary; and
resolving to be aforehand with his business, prepares his
Forces. He knew his Arms, not Tongue, must plead his
Quarrel; another errour in his Guard, he suspects, would
make him liable to a more curst proceeding. His Favourite,
that had his Spies in every corner, is soon inform’d
the Potion was a brewing would give him Physick, if
he did not prevent it: the gathering Clouds portend a
sudden Darkness, which threaten showers of Bloud and
Civil Mischief. He thinks his Guilt above the Rate of
Favour, and vows to wade in Bloud, or die, or vanquish.
To suffer still, and not to act, he counts it weakness;
The King
takes
Arms.
which makes him strive to be the first Invader. He
wins the King to march with those strong Forces their
foresight had prepar’d, being soon united. The first
Seizes the
two Mortimers.
Exploit seizeth the two Mortimers, that with an unadvised
security had plaid over their old Game anew on his
Possessions. Their Strength was great enough for an
Incursion, but far too weak to cope with such an Army.
Their Resolution was to give the Larum, and then retreat
to knit with their Confederates; but they were intercepted
ere they fear’d it, and made the Tower the
Prize of their Adventure.

Thus sometimes it falls out, who acts Injustice, is
catcht in the same Net himself was weaving. The Lords
with this Report are strangely startl’d; they see themselves
forestall’d in their own Working; Arms now
they know must be their Warrant, or else their Lives
must pay a bitter Forfeit. Their Forces were not yet
The Barons
rise.
fully ready, yet they march on, resolv’d to wait the Kings
approach at Burton. Time, that runs swift to Mischief,
slow to Goodness, at length conjoyns their Strength and
several Levies; which were not great, and yet believ’d
sufficient to give a Canvas to the Royal Army; which, as
their Curriers told them, was not mighty. Soon are they
brought to view each others Countenance; where
Friend against Friend, and Son against the Father, BrotherT ther T1v 70
against the Brother, stood embattl’d: such mischief
follows still a Civil Discord. The Kings Force far exceeds
in strength and number, which made the Terms of
hazard far unequal. The adverse part perceiving well
the danger which they were in, if they abide the Tryal,
condemn their own belief, and Servants falshood, who
had so far fallen short in their discovery. But now a
second Deliberation is entertain’d, which adviseth them
to decline the Battle, and to make a Retreat, till they
were re-enforced. This Resolution taken from the
present suspition, was not more dishonourable than dangerous:
it gave confidence to their Enemies, and dejected
their own Party, willing rather to try their hands
than their heels, where the peril seem’d indifferent: But
the Reasons given in excuse were grave and weighty.
The Earl of Lancaster had sent Sir Thomas Holland to
raise his Northern Friends and Tenants; who was marching
up strongly and well provided; so that if they
could have adjourned the Battle off to his arrival, it
would have made the Terms more hopeful, if not equal.
It is in the Rule of War esteem’d a weakness to affront
an Enemy for a set Battle, with too great disproportion
in number; but to recoyl without a marvelous, discreet,
and orderly proceeding, is no more than laying the disheartned
Troops to a present slaughter; the Experiment
whereof was here apparent. The Lords rise, but
ill, and in disorder, more like a Flight than a discreet Retiring.
Valence Earl of Pembrooke, that did command in
chief under the King, sees this Confusion, and straight
lays hold of such a fair advantage. He chargeth hotly
on the Reer, which straight was routed; the Barons
make a head, but are forsaken; which makes them flie to
seek their proper safeguard: With much ado they get
The Barons
beaten, fly
to Pontfrect.
to Pontefret, whither the broken Troops at length repair
for succour. Holland intrusted, performs the work
he went for, and marcht with speed, hoping to give a
Rescue; but when he saw that their Affairs were desperate,rate, T2r 71
he thinks it his best play to change his Master, and
leads his Troops to get the Kings Protection. As it deserv’d,
it gains a gracious welcome. Thus all things
tend to their Confusion; one mischief seldom comes,
but many thunder. The despairing Barons finding themselves
hotly pursu’d, repair to Council, where many
ways are mov’d, and none embraced, save that same fatal
one which wrought their Ruine. They leap, like
Fishes, from the Pan that scorcht them, into the raging
Flames that soon consum’d them. The Castle of Donstauborough
was believed a strength tenable, until their
Friends do raise a second Army, or they at worst might
treat some fair Conditions: they march to gain this
hold, but are prevented. Sir Andrew Harcklaye meets
them at Borough-briggs, and guards the Passage; Hereford
and Clifford seek to force it, and like inraged Lions
here act Wonders: twice had their angry Swords made
the way open, but fresh Supplies opprest them still with
number, till wearied, not o’ercome, they yield to Fortune,
and by a glorious Death preserve their Honour.
When these brave Arches fell, the Building totter’d;
though Mowbray made a while a brave resistance, till his
Heroick Bloud, not Valour, fail’d him. The surprizal
of Lancaster, and many other noble Knights and Barons,
perfects this Overthrow, and ends these Civil Tumults.

The Prey thus seiz’d, the Spencers long to taste it;
and, like to furious Tygers, act their Passions: They give
not their incensed Master time to deliberate on that
Work which was so weighty, which had the Lives of
such great Peers in balance. They whet on, and exasperate
the Kings Revenge, that needs no instigation.
Soon is the Work resolv’d, where deep Revenge hath
master’d humane Judgment, and Reason doth subscribe
to private Malice.

Valens’s
Speech in
favour of
the Lords.

Valence, a Stout and noble Gentleman, hating such a
barbarous Cruelty, seeks to divert it, and mildly thus
intreats the Royal favour.

To T2v 72

“To win a Battle (Sir) it is glory; to use it well, a far
more glorious Blessing. In heat of Blood to kill, may taste
of Valour, which yet on cooler terms may touch of Murder.
Laws were not made to catch offences, but to judge them;
which are dispens’d with where the cause is weighty, else
none may live where many are delinquent.”

“Celestial Powers have blest you with a conquest, and do
expect to see how you will use it. For your own Goodness
sake, make known your Vertue; be like to him that gave you
this great Blessing, and then your Mercy will exceed your
Justice. The savage beasts but kill, to kill their hunger;
and will you act in blood to please your fancy? The Heavens
forbid the Royal Heart should harbour a thought that
justly may be deemed cruel. Your sword victorious is imbrew’d
with Honour, let it not ravage where is no resistance:
to spill where you may save, obscures your Glory; to save
where you may spill, proclaims your Goodness. I’ll not
excuse their faults, or plead their merits, which both are
lesser far than is your Mercy; let not such branches so untimely
wither, which may in time be your defence and shelter.
Kings are but men, that have their fates attend them,
which measure out to them, what they to others. Blood is
a crying Sin that cries for vengeance, which follows swiftly
those that vainly shed it. Black Apparitions, fearful
Dreams, affright them whose guilty Souls are stain’d with
deeds of darkness. Oh let your purer thoughts be unpolluted,
that they may live to shew your Grace and Vertue,
and After-ages speak your worth in Glory.”

The King had scarce the patience to hear out the
Conclusion of a Theme so contrarious to his resolution
and humour; yet weighing the Integrity and well-deserving
of the man that spake it, to justifie himself, and
to give him satisfaction, with an angry brow he makes The Kings
Reply.

this sudden Answer. “Valence, but that I know you truely
love me, your words do touch me too near your Soveraigns
Honour. Shall I, seduced by a female pity, compassion those that V1r 73
that do attempt my ruine? such actions may be goodness,
no discretion: how many times have I declin’d my Power,
to win them home by mercy, not by justice? what hath my
mildness won but flat Rebellion, which had it took, where
then had been their virtue? Say I should spare their Lives
and give them freedom, each slight occasion colours new
eruption, and I may then too late repent my kindness.
When my poor Gaveston was tane, where was their mercy?
They made their Arms their Law, their Swords their
Justice. He had no guilt of Treason or Rebellion, his greatest
fault was this, his Soveraign lov’d him; and shall I
spare those that for my sake wrought his ruine? No, blood
must have blood, their own Law be their Tryal; let justice
take her course, Ile not oppose it. The deeds of Charity must
so be acted, that he that gives be not abus’d by giving.
Who saves a Viper that attempts to sting him, if after stung
deserves nor help nor pity. What could they more have
done than they have acted, unless to kill the King they so
much hated; and shall I pardon these sought my destruction,
and make them fit to act a new Rebellion? If it be virtue,
’tis a poor discretion. No, I will make them sure, that
their example may others teach the just reward of Treason.
Dead men do neither bark nor bite the Living.”

Instantly he flings away, and to the general grief of
the whole Army signeth a dispatch for present execution,
without so much as the exception of any one particular
of all the great ones whom this last conflict had thrown
Lancaster
beheaded,
and 22
more.
at his mercy. Lancaster is beheaded at Pontefret, and
two and twenty others, of noble blood and great eminency,
in other places of the Kingdom; so that there was
scarce a City of any note, but was guilty of this bloody
Massacre. So many excellent lives, so ingloriously
lost, had been able to have commanded a victorious Army
while it had triumpht in some forrain conquest. Thomas
of Lancaster
, a man good and virtuous, though unfortunate,
kept faithfully the death-bed promise he made V his V1v 74
his father Lincoln; but erring in the time and manner,
he tasted his prediction. The King, that was before so
apparently guilty of many puny vices, by this act loseth
all their memory, and dyes himself in grain with the true
colour of a cruel Tyrant. The reaking blood of so many
brave subjects so untimely spilt, had a quick and bitter
reckoning, to the final destruction of him and all the
Actors. In the operations of so great a weight, though
the colour of justice seem a Warranty, yet mercy should
have preceded rigour, since they were not all alike
guilty. In point of extremity, it is more safe and Honorable
to do less than we may, rather than all we
may; the one makes known our goodness, the other
the cruelty of our nature, which with a loathed fear
thrusts a zealous and true love out of possession in the
hearts of those that behold and observe our actions.
Had these Lords been of a disposition equally cruel,
Spencer had not liv’d to triumph in their misery, nor
they to taste his malice; for it is clear, when they had
him at their mercy, that they sought not blood, but reformation;
and assuredly in this their last act, which was
rather defensive than otherwaies, their intentions towards
the Crown were innocent. In all respects (saving
the levy of their Arms, which was done onely to support
it with more Honour) as things fell out afterwards, it
had been happy for the King if he had lost this Battel,
and they had prevailed; for winning it was the beginning
of all his ensuing misery, of which the fundamental
cause (as appeareth in the sequel) originally
sprung; that this bridle being taken away, he fell
to those dissolute actions, and injurious kind of oppression,
that his Government became hateful, and
his Name odious; which wrought in time the general
revolt of the whole Kingdom. Fear, and the suspition
of the following danger, kept both him and
his familiars in a better temper: for though they were
fully as vicious, yet they were less confident, and more reserved, V2r 75
reserved; which, this barricado taken off, finds neither
bound nor limit.

Good Policy
to maintain
a divided
Faction in
Court and
Councel.
Certainly, in the Regiment of a Kingdom, it is a discreet
and wise consideration in Court and Councel to
maintain a divided faction, yea, and interchangeably so
to countenance them, that the one may be still a fit Counterpoise
to the other. The King by this means shall be
served with more sincerity and diligence, and informed
with more truth and plainness. Where one particular
man or faction is alone exalted and onely trusted,
his words, be they never so erronious, finde seldom
contradiction, and his unjust actions pass unquestion’d;
all men under him seeking to rise by him, sing the same
tune; the Flock ever bleats after the voice of the Bell-
weather; which stands with a politic wisdome, since
in opposition they purchase but disgrace and ruine. By
these means the Royal ear is abused, and the Minions acts
are more daring and insolent, who cares ever more how
to conceal cleanly, than to be sparing in doing the actions
of injustice; by this the judgment of the King is
impaired, the Honour of the Crown abused, the Common-wealth
suffers daily more and more, which by degrees
aliens and estrangeth the heart of the subject. The
greater the heighth is, the stronger is the working to preserve
it, which for the most part is attended with those
same State-actions of impiety and injustice; hence spring
murmur and hatred, exasperated by a continuing Oppression
which ends for the most part in a desperate conclusion.
Though the fury of this victorious King had so fully acted
his Tragedy, yet the Mortimers were spared; but it
was rather out of forgetfulness than pity, whose deaths
had been more available than all those which in so great
haste had tasted his fury. Some think that the Queens intercession
got the respite of their execution, mainly followed
by Spencer, who in that act irreconciliably lost her favour;
by the subsequent effect it seems probable enough;
but howsoever it was wrought, it appears he was reservedserved V2v 76
to be one of the fatal executioners of the divine
justice, which taught his persecutor that same antient
Roman Law of Talionis, and gave his unfortunate
Master so sad a cause of a just Repentance. The Kingdom
after these bloody Hurly-burlies and strong Convulsions,
begins now to be a little setled, onely it was fill’d
with grief and expectation where these aims would end
that ran on with such violence. The principal Pillars
of the common good being taken away, and those that
remain’d being frighted and disheartned, gave such a liberty
to the now great Officers, that the whole interest
of the State was believed little better than the fruits of
an absolute Conquest. All men suffer basely, yet no
man dares oppose or question’t. The King secur’d, approves
his Spencers actions, and makes the Regal Power
the Servants warrant: Hence springs the insolency of
unjust oppressions, and those unlawful ways to drain
the subject, which leave no means might fill the Royal
Coffers. The grieved Kingdom languisht with these burdens;
the great Ones suffer basely, courting his vices,
which like a tree oregrown, of immense greatness, shadow’d
their growth, and did suppress their merit.
They fawn upon the time, and view each other as
Ships salute at Sea, whose Voyage differs; they were
become strangers to themselves and to their fellows, which
stop the passage to so just a quarrel. The private end
was now the thing in fashion, the publique was forsaken
as a monster. The Commons, whose home-bred
looks are the true Index of all that dwells within, and
honest plainness, do more than murmure out these oppressions.
They gape to catch the turning tide, and
would have moved, but find no one would give them
heart or leading. Oft do they make attempts, but yet
discreetly, to try if they could finde a staff to lean to;
but ’twas in vain, the Law was such a terrour, that he
that stirs and sticks was sure of drowning. Now do
the Learned Sages see their errour, that hung themselves in X1r 77
in Chains so great and many, making a Lime-twig for
each several feather; now do they blame those Laws
themselves enacted, not like a Watch, but as a PaperArmy,
to keep the good still in the worst condition; as
if the multiplicity had been the glory, where Laws
are made to catch, not ease the subject. If that great
volume of the Law draw forth his engines, what subject
can untoucht escape his rigour?

Spencer, that knew himself thus hated, and that the
general cry proclaim’d his baseness, sinks not his height,
nor would go less a farding; but makes his mischief
like himself, still foul, but greater; with reason yet
suspects and fears the sequel. His Mistris sate on thorns,
which made her startle; he knows the Wheel would
turn, almost with touching. This calls his Wits together,
and puts them on the rack for a Confession, what
Spencer’s
Policy.
was the way might best assure this danger. The King’s
weak humour, naturally wanton, he makes more vicious,
and apparent guilty, hoping to make him alike
hateful, that in the Change they both might run one
fortune. A pretty Policy, that makes it lawful to
wound his Master, that thereby he may scape the hand of
justice, or at the least may make the hazard equal!
The King he knew was too indulgent, but not tender,
or of a heart enough to work the safety of his Servants,
as he observ’d in the Case of his Predecessor Gaveston,
and his own late experience. To give him a more real
engagement, and pin himself fast by necessity, he
egges him on to all those actions that were more than
most odious in practice, and hateful in the eye of the
subject; feeding him in the mean time with a vain belief
that the Kingdom was generally ill-affected, and
sought his deposition; which there was no better way
to repress, than by holding them short, and making severity
rather than paternal love the Hand-maid of his
Scepter. In all the actions of State, whatsoever carried
a fair gloss, or prov’d well, he takes it upon his proper X care X1v 78
care and diligence; if the success were ill, or not prosperous,
it must be esteemed either the will, weak advice,
or fortune of his Master; in all complaints that
spake unjust oppression, he seemed to share the grief,
but made the cause the Kings, not his which must obey
him; he guilds his proper actions o’re with shews of
kindness, sullying the Royal with his grossest errours,
who sat and slept, or winkt at these disorders. This
was the substance of his first conceptions; but yet
this was too weak to make a ground-work on which he
might rely his false proceedings. Time daily chang’d,
and new occurrents happen might win another faction
to pursue him; for to prevent this fear, he fetcht a Compass,
and leaves the beaten way of blood and malice;
such of the great ones as were yet remaining, and out
of reason might be most suspected, or did but cross his
way, by private practice he sends to feed the Worms
and kiss their Mother, who knew not her own Children
so transformed. When that the Blossomes dropt
away (the Gardens glory) the season being sweet, and
mildly pleasant, all men admir’d, but quickly knew the
reason; some unkind hand had tainted that which fed
them. This was too much, but yet he wades in deeper.
His Brain is subtle, cunning, wary; an active stirring
Wit, a quick invention, an heart grown proud in
mischief, full of falshood, that dwelt within a conscience
knew no bounder; from these he hammers out another
project that works upon the King as well as subject.
This hath two forms, though of a different temper, yet
both resembl’d nearly in dependance. The first must
keep the Crown in fear, the Kingdom busied with forraign
danger or domestick trouble; The second holds it
still in want, the Coffers empty, to keep the subject poor
as they supply it; security in one might keep him careless,
and peace with plenty make the other wanton.
From these, being marshal’d with a sound discretion,
he thinks the way was easie to assure his greatness; within his X2r 79
his brest alone was lockt the secrets of the prime Plots
of State and waighty business; the Councellors, that
were but meerly Cyphers, knew but the strains of
slight and vulgar motions; he sat alone at Helm, and
steer’d the Compass, which fancies in his thoughts a vain
impulsion; he must be still employ’d, or all would ruine;
if in the agitations of the King or Kingdom puzzl’d
with motions of the present danger, he could assure
each party from these Harpyes, it needs must adde much
to his faith and wisdome, and make his station far more
strong and sure; the resty mindes that kick at present
greatness, may then turn Craven, and approve his judgment:
he that conceits he could command the Planets,
doubts not to make such trifles light and easie.
His principles thus laid, he falls to action; with a loose
scorn he continues the French correspondence, slighting
their Treaties and desire of Friendship; the Marriage
of a Sister was not powerful to set things right betwixt
these Warlike Nations; there was no open War, but
private grudges, which made the State uncertain, robb’d
the Merchant; heart-burning on all sides, while both
strain courtesie who should begin to set the balance even.
The Scots that were not sure, but yet were quiet, he
irritates afresh for new combustions; but this was done
with such a neat conveyance, that all men see the Smoke,
yet feel no Fire. And to the Lords at home that stood
spectators, he pares off from his greatness some few
chippings, and gives them here and there to feed
their longings; that they might thus be still, if not contented,
he gives away his female Kindred for new
Friendship, and makes the Portion great, though nothing
yet in Title; which turn’d the world backward in
appearance, while January and June were dancing
Trenchmore. Those fixed stars that mov’d not with
this Comet, but kept aloof, and did preserve their
distance, these he contemns and scorns with such
proud usage, that they may seek his grace, or seem to X2v 80
to threaten some jealous danger to his fearful Master.

Great Impositions daily are divulged, and some imposed
are not fully levied, to make the Commons fear,
not feel their ruine. No circumstance is left, that but
induced, to make the Soveraign fear, the subject hate him.
The King, whose Arms ne’er thriv’d but in the conflict
which winning lost his Honour, caused his downfal,
was in the memory of his former unfortunate proceedings
sufficiently aw’d; and being now given over to the sensuality
of his delights, entertains quickly the least apprehension
of fear, if his supervisor did present it so
that this part of his work was no great difficulty; and
the second was not more uneasie. The Royal Treasure
is profusely spent without Accompt or Honour, being
but the fountain that served to water the drought of himself,
his herd of hungry Kindred, and the swarm of
Flesh-flies that became his creatures. The antient Plate
is without the art of Arithmetick multiplied into a world
of little pieces; the Jewels of the crown do leap beyond
the Sea, and are ta’n Prisoners till they pay their ransome;
the Revenue Royal being now grown weary, by
Proclamation would exchange his Landlord; the Prerogative,
the type of Soveraignty, forgets his Patron,
and cleaves to the fingers of some musty Farmor. This
want was great in shew, but more in substance; which made
the Surgeon seek to gain a plaister: the Poverty of these
Institutions answer not the Work-mans expectation, for
the Remedy began to seem as fearful as the Disease;
These profuse prodigalities, in stead of a counterfeit,
brought in such a real necessity of such a height, that
without a speedy supply it must beget a desperate hazard.
Many several projections are made, but they fall
wholly short, and like Pistols charg’d with Powder, make
a noise, but hit not that they aim at; the hope was
dead, unless the old and right way Parliamental did give
it life and spirit. Spencer knew well enough that such Assem- Y1r 81
Assemblies was like a Ringworm on the neck of greatness;
a Court that in the bulk of high Corruption would breed a
Palsie, or a Hectick Feaver; the subject here he knew
would see his inside, which single durst not quinch,
much less encounter. He doubts the King would hardly
be supply’d, unless he were expos’d to try their mercy;
yet there’s no other means, he must adventure.
This thus resolv’d, he leaves it not at random, or doth
resign his state alone to Fortune, but wisely makes the
way before he run it. With a reserved secrecy he hides
the Platform, till that his practice might receive perfection.
He hurries forth strange news of forraign dangers,
to draw the peoples eyes from private workings;
he makes a shew as if all things went currant, and shadows
o’re the Royal wants with plenty, yet closely
wills his friends and those his creatures to get them
place betimes in this great Meeting. All such as were
the Kings entirely, these he instructeth with the self-
same Counsel, and courts all such as he believes are Powerful
to advance his ends, or else procure him danger;
and to let all the world know he stood right in his
Masters affections, he gets his Father, himself, and Sir
Andrew Harclay
, a Chip of the same Block, made Earls
of Winchester, Bristow, and Carlile; Baldock a mean man
altogether unworthy, unless it were for being a disciple
of so virtuous a Patron, is made Lord Chancellour of
England. The solemnity of this goodly Creation ended,
and the Plot now ripe for execution.

A Parliament
called.
The bruit of a Parliament flies through the Kingdom,
and is follow’d at the heels with Writs for present Election.
The time limited for appearance was short,
which speedily drew this great Body together, bleeding
with the fresh memory of the loss of so many of his
brave and glorious Members. All Ceremonies are laid
aside, or handled briefly, so that the time now serves
to fall upon the business. Their pulses being felt aloof
off, and their temper tryed, there was a full discovery Y that Y1v 82
that the major part was sure, the rest were heartless.
Then comes the King’s Demand, with fair pretences,
which pleads the greatness of his charge and present
uses; and shews he had on the strength of his Revenue
maintain’d the Scotish Wars without assistance, which
had exhausted so the Royal Treasure, that now He is
enforc’d to try his Subjects. This motion is soon seconded
by such apt Scholars as learnt to get the King’s
or Spencer’s favour; others that had a hope to share
the booty, speak it great reason to assist their Sovereign.
The Commons justly grieved with their Oppressions,
would fain have made a head to stop this current; but
’twas in vain, here was too weak a Party, and wants a
They give
the King
the sixth
Peny.
heart to put it to a tryal; this swayed the King the
sixth peny of the Temporalty, and ends this Meeting.
When the knowledge of this Grant came into the
Country, it bred a general Murmur, and quite estrang’d
their loves from their subjection, cursing those times
that caused so sad a burden. Upon the neck of this
(if we may give credit to those Historians, that all agree
and publish this relation) were many fearful and prodigious
Prodigious
Sights.
Sights, which maz’d the people; amongst which
this one was most remarkable; the Sun for six hours
space shew’d himself in perfect Blood, and sanguin’d
over. The ensuing times that retain’d it in their Memory,
and applied it as a Prediction of the sequel, believ’d
it did foreshew the King’s destruction, which
followed swiftly; others conceit it as a Wonder shew’d
from Heaven, as a sure Token of the just Displeasure
for the loss of the Noble Earl of Lancaster and his Adherents,
whose Blood implored Justice and sharp
Vengeance. Thus in amazement Man becomes a Prophet.

The Scotch
invade the
English Borders
and
Ireland.

The Scots, that love not rest, delight in prigging; and
considering the Distractions of the English, thought it a
fit time to fall to action, and with a double blow to
vent their malice; one strikes upon the Borders, which they Y2r 83
Are repulst. they boldly enter, but are repuls’d with little loss or
damage; the other doth invade their Neighbour-Irish,
where they receive with grief a worser welcome.
Their General
slain.
Bruce, the Kings Brother, General of this Army, and all
his Troops, are killed and broken; scarce one was left
to carry back the News of this Disaster. The King,
resenting this new provocation, and all the former
mischiefs they had wrought him, resolves once more
to tempt his froward Fortune; but ’twas not his own
Valour, Spencer mov’d it, that had his aim beyond his
Master’s meaning; he knew this was the way to waste
that Treasure, which else might breed a fearless fulness:
if it succeeded well, the gain and honour would be his
share, as well as his that won it, since his advice had
father’d first the action: admit it should prove ill, he
then was guiltless, it must be deem’d alone his Soveraign’s
Fortune, whose Destiny was such to be still
luckless; however yet, ’t would keep him so in action,
he might at all times yield the groaning Subjects a short
account how he had spent their Money. Upon this, a
Summons is sent out to call together all the Captains
and Men of war; Provisions are dayly made to wait
upon so constantly a resolved Journey: The former
Misfortune had taught him to undertake this action
strong and soundly; the black Ox had trod upon
his foot, that well he knew the danger. The King’s
intentions known, brings him together all the remaining
bravery of the Kingdom; they knew that there was
Money store to pay the Souldier, which gives him life
to fight, and seek occasion. The cream of all this
strength must guard his Person, the other fill the Rere,
and make the Vantguard; with these he marcheth forward
The King
invades
Scotland.
and invadeth Scotland, making that Nation justly
fear the sequel. But whether it were the Infidelity of
those about him, the Will of him that is the Guide of
Battles, or the proper destiny of this unfortunate King,
this great Preparation produced no effect answerable to the Y2v 84
the general expectation; he is enforc’d to retire without
doing any one act worthy his Memory, or the
greatness of such an Expedition. The wary Scots, that
had kept themselves in their Strengths and places of Advantage,
seeing the Storm almost past, follow aloof off,
and in a watch’d opportunity set upon the tail of his
The Scotch
seize the K.Kings
Treasure.
Army, surprizing all his Stuff and Treasure. This loss
sends him home to entertain a defensive War, which
came from the Coast he least expected; whether justly,
or to transfer the guilt of his own unhappiness upon
the treachery or falshood of another. The new-made
Earl of Carlile
Executed.
Earl of Carlile is accused, condemned, and put to a shameful
execution. The grounds against him were probable,
not certain; howsoever, he was believed to have attempted,
like Judas, the sale of his Master, which must
be taken a sole motive of the inglorious retreat of this
so brave an Army. The principal reason that may lead
us to the opinion that he was guilty, may be taken from
the solemnity of his Tryal, and the severity of the Sentence,
which upon so grave and full a hearing depriv’d
him both of Life and Honour in a ceremonious way,
whereof till this there appears no former president.
His old friend Spencer, whose ends he had faithfully
served, left him at plunge, being as it seems well content
now he had (as he thought) rooted his own greatness,
to be free of his Ambition, which he fear’d might rather
supplant than support it. A common course of such as
rise by their own or other mens corruption; they love a
while their props, but after fear them; when with some
Dog-trick they pick some fain’d occasion, private or publick,
for to send them packing. If you survey it well,
it stands with reason: for such as to serve their ends
would act in baseness, in the least change may do so
for another that in appearance must succeed his fortune:
besides, where the reward seems shorter than the merit,
fills one with grief, the other with suspition; which
two can never long hold correspondence; and Kings them- Z1r 85
themselves that do abet the Treason, do seldome love,
but always fear the Traytour. But now old quarrels
sleep, here comes a new one that usher’d on the way
to Edwards ruine.

The French King Lewis being dead, John next succeeds
him; a Prince youthful and hot, full ripe for
action. He privately informed of the ill usage of his
Sister, and that the King was wholly led by his proud
Minion, whose actions witness’d he was ill-affected to
hold firm Peace but with his own conditions, thinks it
fit time to break the League which had so weak assurance.
On this he makes an attempt upon the Frontiers
of Guien, and sends a solemn Message he would no
The French
King breaks
his Peace
with England.
more continue Peace with England. Edward, that had
not yet digested his Scotish Pills, was much displeased
to hear so curst a Declaration from a Brother. Spencer,
the spring that gave this difference motion, did little
dream it would be his destruction; he wisht these Princes
might fall out and quarrel, but yet not so, that it
should come to action. He deem’d it not amiss his Soveraign
Master should hear of War from France, but
not to feel it. The French were of another minde;
they saw us beaten, and discontent within our selves,
full of confusion; which gave them hope the time would
fitly serve them to reunite this Piece to her first Honour.
Thus Kings play fast and loose with their advantage;
affinity and Oaths are weak restrictions; where Profit
holds the Plough, Ambition drives it.

Edward piercing narrowly into the danger, taxeth
bitterly the infidelity of his Brother, and begins to examine
his own condition, whereby he might accordingly
order his affairs, either to entertain the War, or embrace
Peace, the hopes whereof were not yet desperate. He
findes himself in the affections of his own fear’d and
hated; his Coffers emptied by the Scotish surprizal,
and the sinews of his late Parliamentary supplying shrunk
in his Provision and prodigality; a second supply, unless Z con- Z1v 86
conditional, was doubtful; the Kingdom was grown too
wise, to be again anticipated in election: and lastly,
he calls to minde the severity of that misfortune that
waited so his Military actions, that the subjects were
diffident of success where he was either General, or a
party. In this distraction, while he remains irresolute,
he seeks the advice of his Cabinet Councel, the Closet of
his secrets; he thinks him alone worthy to communicate
the depth of his misery, and to give the resolution.
The King
adviseth
with Spencer.
Spencer, that had his underhand aims, out of a virtuous
modesty appears not till he is call’d; which succeeding
as he knew out of course and necessity it must, pleads
his own disability in an affair so great and weighty, desiring
Spencer’s
Answer.
his Majesty that his Father and the Chancellour might
be admitted into this deliberation, whose maturity of
years and ripeness in knowledg might be rely’d on with
more assurance. The reason of this reply, in shew full
of wisdom and care, had a Plot with two faces, like the
old description of Janus; the one lookt upon his father
and faithful Friend, whom by this means he thought to
advance in credit; the other was more to countenance
his own particular, which had a part to play, that must
be (as he thought) his Master-piece. No word of his
sounds harshly, nor found contradiction in his Soveraigns
ear, who made his tongue a guide to lead his
actions; they are freely admited, and fall to consultation,
where the condition of the present affairs is fully open’d,
and sundry propositions made to reconcile them: but
these all prove defective in some material point or other,
that according to the pack, Spencer might hit the nail on
the head, and by their applause make his project more
solid and authentical.

Ever since the breach that hapned between him and
the Queen concerning Mortimer, there had been a strong
heart-burning, and many distastful expressions of the ill
inclination she bare him. He knew her to be a Woman
of a strong Brain, and stout Stomack, apt on all occasionssions Z2r 87
to trip up his heels, if once she found him reeling;
and was not without some discreet suspicion, that she
was as well contriving inward practice, as she had been
closely forward in the instigation of her Brother. To
make her sure, and to pare her nails before she scratcht
him, he thinks occasion had presented him with a fit
opportunity, which he intended not to loose without
a tryal; from which ground he thus expresseth his conceptions.

“Things standing as they do (Royal Sir) there is but one
way left to right them; but how that way may like you,
that I know not. You are not fit for War, if you consider
your proper weakness, bare of Strength or Money: to seek,
not sue for Peace, is no dishonour, but shews a pious Will
to perfect Goodness. A Servants care, I not deny, may
work it; but this will ask Instruction, Time and Leasure,
which your condition cannot fitly limit. Such Treaties, for
the most part, so are settled; but ’tis with long dispute,
and many windings, by which we must grow worse, and
they still stronger. If they once finde that we pursue it
hotly, they’ll raise their height to win their own conditions,
He adviseth
the Queen
be sent to
France.
which may be far unfit your state and greatness. I know
you love the Queen too much to spare her, and I am loath to
touch the string should cause it: But since great Works are
fittest for great Actors, I wish to her alone this brave
employment: her Wisdome and her Love so well united,
will work (I doubt not) Peace as you desire; so fair a
Pleader cannot be denied in that request, which chiefly
made her Wedlock. And since I am all yours, vouchsafe
your Pardon, if I in reason discourse it farther: Admit
that he deny, her journey sort not, you still are where you
were, with some advantage: If he refuse your Love, you
may his Sister, which is then with him, where he so may
keep her till things are reconcil’d, and quarrels ended.
Reason of State must master your Affections, which in this
act will tell you, ’tis unfitting she should be here, that may inform Z2v 88
inform her Brother from time to time of all your secret
Counsels. Say that your Love and her Obedience tye her,
and keep the Scale still even, ’tis a hazard which wise
men dare not trust in female weakness: admitting that her
Goodness do assure it, this cannot warrant yet her silent
Servants, who may be sent with her perhaps of purpose,
or after brib’d to sift and shew your workings. Councels
are seldome so reserv’d, but that they glimmer some little
light that leads to their intentions; which if they fly to
those they touch unacted, finde swift prevention, ere their
worth be valued. These things consider’d, I do speak it
freely, ’tis fit the Queen alone should undertake it; which
lessens well the charge of your great Houshold, and brings
you Peace, or makes you else a Freeman from those domestick
Cares that shake your quiet.”

This Act ended, Baldocke the Chorus, who equally hated
the Queen, seconds it with a learned approbation;
and the old Roost-cock in his Country-language, which
was the only tongue he was guilty of, tells the King
briefly, he should be sure of Peace at home or abroad.
The King with an attentive ear hears this relation, and
could not but believe his Spencer spake it; nor did he
dote so much upon his Wedlock, but he could be contented
well to spare her, whose eyes did look too far
into his Pleasures. But yet his wandring Soul had
strange impressions, which struck him deeply with a
sad prediction, and made him faintly yield, but yet delay
it.

This Overture being come to the Queens ear,
and withal the knowledge how this Gipsie had marshall’d
his cunning practice, and had prescrib’d the way
for her escape, which she herself intended, and in her
private thoughts had laboured with the best powers of
She offers
to go.
her understanding; she seem’d wondrously well-pleas’d,
and offers to undertake, and to assure the business.
Their several ends, far wide of one another, do kindly meet Aa1r 89
meet and knit in the first Prologue; where Craft encounters
Cunning, it sometimes happens one and the
self-same Hood doth fit the head-piece of divers Actors,
diversly affected; hence it proceeds the Plot’s more
surely acted, when each side doth believe his proper
issue: There is not such a Cut-throat for a Coz’ner, as
that which in his own trade doth cross-bite him: The
Bee gets Honey where the Spider Poyson; and that
may kill Physicians, cures their Patients. Such are the
qualities of Statesmens actions, that labour to contrive
anothers mischief, and in their own way finde their own
destruction. Love and Jealousie, that equally possest the
Queen, being intermixed with a stronger desire of Revenge,
spurs her on to hasten on this Journey. She
saw the King a stranger to her bed, and revelling in
the wanton embraces of his stoln pleasures, without a
glance on her deserving Beauty. This contempt had
begot a like change in her, though in a more modest
nature, her youthful Affections wanting a fit subject to
work on, and being debarr’d of that warmth that
She casts a
wandering
eye on Mortimer.
should have still preserv’d their temper, she had cast her
wandering eye upon the gallant Mortimer, a piece of
masculine Bravery without exception; had those his
inward Gifts been like his outside, he had not been
behinde-hand in reception, but with a Courtly, brave
respect, full meets her Glances. A silent Rhetorick,
sparkling Love, findes quick admittance; such private
trading needs few words or brokage: but his last Act
Mortimer in
the Tower.
had mew’d him in the Tower, where he was fast from
sight of his great Mistriss Love, that makes some men
fools, makes others wary: Had Mortimer’s designe been
known, his head had paid for’t; which Spencer’s malice
long and strongly aim’d at, but that the Queen had
begg’d a solemn respite, which Edward would not
break at his intreaty. The Cage of his restraint was
strong, and guarded; yet ’twas too weak to cloyster
his Ambition, which did suspect, but never fear’d his Aa Free- Aa1v 90
Freedome; which he attempts, but yet was not so sure,
that he durst trust it. In the mean time, with a sweet
Correspondencie, and the interchange of many amorous
Letters, their hearts are brought together, and their
several intents perfectly known; hers, to prosecute her
Journey; his, to purchase his Freedome, and to wait
upon her, or else to loose his Life if it miscarry. It
was a strange Adventure in the Queen, in this inquisitive
and dangerous time, to hazard her Honour under
the fidelity of a Messenger; but she was well belov’d,
paid liberally, and was not more careful in her election,
than wary in the employment; which makes things
difficult in themselves, prove facile and easie. No sooner
had she knowledg of the Plot for his escape, but by
all her best means she confirms and strengthens it, and
in the mean time advances her own affairs by all ways
possible: She courts her Adversary with all the shews
of perfect reconcilement. But new delays interpose;
the King had certainly some inward motive that presag’d
his ruine, and that this Wife of his must be the
Actor; which brought him slowly on to set her forward.
Spencer, that by his own could judge her Cunning,
suspects her plea of haste and sudden kindness,
and now begins to grow a little colder, till he had
better sounded her intentions; which by his Spies he
could not so discover, but that she seem’d as pure and
clear as Crystal.

The King
will not
consent to
her going.
Yet Edward would not give consent she should be a
gadding; time past away; she labours hard, but fruitless,
till at length she found she was abused. Guien
must be rather lost, than she should wander. Her
heart so strongly fix’d upon this Journey, was torn as
much with anger as with sorrow: Reason at length o’recame
her Sexes weakness, and bids her rather cure,
than vent her Passion. The opportunity thus snatch’d
from her hopes, she seems well pleased, and glad to stay
at home; no inward motion seem’d to appear, that might Aa2r 91
might beget suspicion. Spencer, that was as cunning
as a Serpent, findes here a female Wit that went beyond
him, one that with his own Weapons wounds
his Wisdome, and taught him not to trust a Womans
Lip-salve, when that he knew her breast was fill’d with
rancour. When the nap of this Project was fallen off,
and Spencer with the King were seeking for some other
bush to stop this gap, her judgment was so fortunate
Pretending
a Journey
of Devotion,
as to pretend a Journey of Devotion to St Thomas of
Canterbury
; which by her jealous Overseers (being a
Work of Piety) is wholly unsuspected. All things
prepared, by a faithful Messenger she gives her beloved
Servant Mortimer knowledge of the time, and her intention.
Then, with the Prince her Son and Comfort,
that must be made the Stale of this great action, she
fearless ventures on this holy Journey. The King
was well content that she should be absent, and pray
to whom she would within the Kingdom; Her jealous
eyes so watchful, had enforc’d him to take by stealth,
what now he gets in freedom. Spencer is not displeased,
but well contented, that wisht she would remain
an absent Pilgrim. A short time bringing her to the
Shrine of her pretensions, she makes as short a stay,
but hasteth forward. Mortimer inform’d the Plot was
now in action, puts on his practice for a present tryal.
Some say that with a Sleeping-drink he charm’d his
Keepers; I rather think it Drink that made them sleepy:
Whatever ’twas, by this he stole his Freedom, and
slylie scapes away unseen, untaken. At the Sea-side he
findes his Royal Mistriss and the young Prince prepar’d
to go a Ship-board; the Earl of Cane and Bishop of
Hereford
ready to attend them; and he now comes, to
She embarques
for
France with
Mortimer.
make the Consort perfect. All things succeeding thus
fortunately, they loose no time, but embarque, and
weigh their Anchor. Winchelsey had the honour of
their last farewel, that did provide them shipping.
Their Sails hoist up, the Heavens they finde propitious, the Aa2v 92
the blustering winds were quiet, and Neptune bears them
without a rugged brow of angry billows; a pleasing foreright
Gale (as kept of purpose) fills up their Sails, and
brings them safe to Bulloigne. Thus did our Pilgrims
scape the pride and malice of him which little dream’d
of this Adventure: his Craft and Care, that taught him
all those lessons of Cunning Greatness, here fell apparent
short of all Discretion, to be thus over-reach’d by
one weak Woman. For her Escape, it skill’d not, nor
could hurt him: it was the rising Son with cause he feared;
which who would have trusted with a Mother,
justly mov’d by their disorder? Where now were all
his Spies, his fawning Agents that fed his ear with every
little motion that did but crack within the Kingdom?
Now it Thunder’d, they were asleep, as was their Minion-Master,
else he would sure have seen, and soon prevented
so lame a Project, that pac’d afoot so long a
walk, so softly. But when the glorious power of Heaven
is pleased to punish Man for his transgression, he
takes away the sense and proper power by which he
should foresee and stop his danger.

The King
sad at the
News.
This news flies swiftly to the King, who entertains
it with a sad heart, as justly it deserved. The Spencers,
with the Crue of their dependants, are nettl’d with a tale
that starts their greatness; they think the Plot was surely
laid, that took so rightly; and in the makers Wit,
condemn their Judgment, that led them by the hand to
what they acted. Mortimer, whom Spencer deadly hated,
was well ally’d, and strong in Friends and Kindred;
he had a Cause in hand would win assistance, when that
a Queen and an heir apparent back’d it. But now ’twas
past prevention; ’tis a vertue to make the best of that
we cannot fly from.

Edward, whose yielding heart at first misgave him,
grows sadly dull, and seems to read his Fortune; his
melancholy thoughts have no impressions but such as
were engrav’d within his conscience. To take him off, Spen- Bb1r 93
Spencer contemns the danger, extenuating their best
hopes, which were but fixed upon the French, a nation
light and inconstant, whom Money would take off, if
Spencer encourageth

him.
Force should fail him: he tells him he had cause to
smile, not mourn, that was so freed of such a Chamber-
mischief, that was more to be fear’d at home, than with
her Brother. Lastly, he prays him to be like himself,
a Monarch, that well might bend, and yet not yield to
Fortune; ’twas now high time to order so his business,
that there might be no farther fear of danger. Baldock
the Chancellour sets to a helping hand to revive his Spirits,
which seemed so much dejected; and briefly thus
discours’d his better judgment.

“Sir, if you now should droop, or shew a faintness, when
your occasions do expect your Valour, your subjects will believe
you know more danger than they or see or fear; which
must be followed with a dull coldness over the whole Kingdom;
which what it may enforce, you may consider. ’Tis
easie to o’recome a weak resistance, which yielding, fears
the stroke before ’tis coming; but nobler hearts are ever
most triumphant, when they are round beset with greatest
perils. Alas, what can the Queen a wandring Woman
compass, that hath nor Arms, nor Means, nor Men, nor
Money? Think you her Brother will so back her passion,
as to expose himself to such a hazard? France knows our
Arms too well, too much, to tempt them, or come within
our distance in our dwellings: admit he should, what
can he do to England, which hath a wooden wall
will wet his courage? Lewis, that had made him a sure
Party within the Kingdom long before he landed, when
civil tumults had embroil’d our Forces, found here so sharp
and hotly curst a welcome, as left your Predecessor soon his
first possession: he came in his own right, and yet forsook
it; can you then fear they’ll venture for another, or hazard
War that look for no advantage? Put case they do,
have you your Forces ready, you need not fear the French Bb or Bb1v 94
or any other: but you must then by your own sprightful carriage
give life and courage to the Valiant Souldier, that
fights your Quarrel, and his proper Honour; like to a careful
Steward, still provided to give the new-come Guest a handsome
Welcome. And, if I erre not, ’tis not much improper
you let the Kingdom know the Queens departure, how
far it swerves from duty, love, or reason. Dangers that
be far off, may be prevented, with time, advice, and with
a better leasure; yet ’tis discretion to catch the foretop of a
growing evil: look to your Ports: your Navie well provided,
no forraign Force can wrong your Peace or Quiet. For
those within-door that may breed suspition, the ways are
easie to secure their moving. Yet all this is too little, if you
stagger, or with a drowzie coldness seem disheartned: ’tis
life and action gives your People metal. For Gods sake
then (great Sir) leave off this Passion, which wrongs your
Greatness, and doth maze your servants, that see no cause
but meerly your Opinion.”

This Speech thus ended, the King forceth himself against
his disposition, and cloaths his cheeks with smiles,
his brow with gladness: with a more freedom he discourseth
plainly the present state of his entangled business:
a Declaration is sent out to all the Kingdom, that
The Queen
is tainted.
The Ports
are stopt,
taints the Honour of the Queen, but more his Judgement.
The Ports are all stopt up, that none should follow:
a Medicine much too late; a help improper, to
shut the Stable-door, the Steed being stoln: but ’tis the
nature of a bought Experience, to come a day too late,
the Navie
sent out, and
Watch and
Ward every
where.
the Market ended. The Navie is sent out to guard the
Frontier, and Watch and Ward is kept throughout the
Kingdom. These and many other grave Instructions
are recommended to the Spencers wisdom, whom it
concern’d as deeply as their welfare: they think not fit to
trust the Care to others, but do become themselves the
Supervisors; which for a time of force enforc’d their
absence; in which short intermiss, the King relapseth to his Bb2r 95
his former errour, which gave him many sad and deep
impressions: he thinks the breach of Wedlock a foul
trespass; but to contemn her he so much had wronged,
deserv’d as much as they could lay upon him: But he
was guilty in a higher nature; he had upheld his Parasites
to brave her with too too fond a base presumptuous
daring: he fear’d his cruel actions, stain’d with
bloud, would chalenge a quick and sad requital, equal
vengeance: he saw the Subjects full of grief and passion,
apt and desirous to embrace Rebellion; and few or
none declar’d themselves to aid him, unless ’twere such
as stirr’d by meer compulsion, or pirvate interest of their
own safety. Such dull conceits did so ingross his fancie,
that he almost despair’d of his own fortune. His
Minions, now return’d from their employment, had
much ado to level these deep reckonings, which lay so
heavie on his guilty Conscience: yet at the length he
gain’d his wonted temper, and acteth o’er afresh his former
Errours.

The customary habit of transgression is like a Corn
that doth infest his owner; though it be par’d and cut,
yet it reneweth, unless the Core be rooted out that
feeds his tumour. The guilty Conscience feels some
inward motions, which flashing lightly, shave the hair
of Mischief; the scalp being naked, yet the roots remaining,
they soon grow up again, and hide their baldness:
the operations of the soul of true Repentance,
grubs up the very depth of such vile Monsters, and
leaves alone the scars of their abuses.

The French King having notice of his Sister’s arrival,
The Queen
entertain’d
in France
with seeming
gladness.
entertains it with a wondrous plausible and seeming
shew of gladness. After she had well refresh’d her self
and her little Son, (as yet a stranger to the riding of so
long a journey upon a wooden horse) with an Honorable
attendance, befitting more her Estate, Birth and
Dignity, than the present miserable condition she was
in, she is waited on to Paris: all the great ones and bravery Bb2v 96
Bravery of that Kingdom are sent to give her welcome,
and to bring her to the King’s presence. When she beheld
the Sanctuary of her hopes, her dearest Refuge, she
falls upon her knee, and with a sweetly-becoming modestie,
she thus begins her Story. Her Royal Brother
unwilling to suffer such an Idolatry from her, that had a
Father, Brother, Husband, so great and glorious, takes
her up in his arms, when thus she speaks her sorrow.

The Queens
Address.
“Behold in me (dear Sir) your most unhappie Sister, the
true picture of a dejected Greatness, that bears the grief of
a despised Wedlock, which makes me flie to you for help
and succour. I have, with a sufferance beyond the belief
of my Sex, outrun a world of tryals: time lessens not, but
addes to my afflictions; my burthen is grown greater than my
patience: yet ’tis not I alone unjustly suffer; my tears speak
those of a distressed Kingdom, which, long time glorious,
now is almost ruin’d. My blushing cheek may give a silent
knowledge, I too much love and honour the cause of my afflictions,
to express it. Yet this in modestie I may discover;
my Royal Husband is too much abused; his will, his
ear, his heart is too too open to those which make his errours
their advantage: the hope of his return is lost; he
still must wander, while such bewitching Syrens are his
leaders. But why do I include them as a number? ’tis
onely one; the rest are but his creatures. How many of
his brave and nobler Subjects have sold their lives to purchase
him his Freedom? All expectation fails; domestick
Quarrels have ta’en away their lives, that strove to help it:
unless you please your Arms shall disinchant him, he still
must be abused, his Kingdom grieved. I had not else thus
stoln to crave your favour. Made to your hand, you have
a way is glorious, to let the world behold and know your
vertue; Fortune presents you with a just occasion to crown
your Glory with an equal Goodness: would you dispute it,
can there be a motive more weighty, than to succour these
poor Ruines which else must lose their portions, being Birthright?right? Cc1r 97
See here, and view but with a just compassion,
two Royal Plants depress’d, and like to wither, both Branches
of the Flower-de-luce, the Root you sprang from;
which, but in you, have neither hope nor comfort. Would
your impartial wisdom but consider how good a work it is
to help distresses, a wronged Sister cannot be forsaken, and
an Heir of such a Crown be left unpitied. In such an act
of Goodness and of Justice, both heaven and earth will
witness your true Valour, and your poor Handmaid joy in
such a Brother. Let it not breed suspicion, that I seek you
with such a weak, forsaken, poor attendance: I was enforc’d
to steal away at randome, and durst not by my number
be distrusted, by those with Argus eyes observ’d my
actions. Though I am here, and those behinde that love
me, besides the Justice of my Cause, the strongest motive,
I bring the hearts of a distressed Kingdom, that, if you set
me right, will fight my Quarrel: their Truth needs no suspect;
you have for Warrant their Queen and Mistris, with
their King that must be. Then, gracious Sir, extend your
Royal vertue. I challenge by that purer Bloud, assistance,
whereof my Birth-right gives me equal portion: let not succeeding
Ages in your Story read such a taint, that you forsook
a Sister, a Sister justly griev’d, that sought your Succour.”

Her willing tongue would fain have moved farther;
but here the fountain of her eyes poured forth their
treasure; a showre of Chrystal tears enforc’d her silence;
which kinde of Rhetorick won a Noble pitie: the Passions
of the minde being sweetly mov’d, the heart
grows great, and seems to sympathize their agitations;
which produceth a ready willingness, that calls to action
the foot, the hand, the eye, the tongue, the body, till
that the Engines slack that cause this vigour; and then
The King
and his
Peers moved
at her
discourse.
they all revert to their first temper. The Queens discourse
and tears so far prevail’d, the King and all his
Peers are deeply moved; their longing hearts beat Cc strong- Cc1v 98
strongly for expression, which might assure her, they
embrac’d her quarrel, and with their Lives would venture
soon a tryal: Her Brother bids her cast her cares
to his Protection, which would make Edward know
and feel his errours; his greater Subjects offer her their
Service, and vow to be Companions of her fortune.
The general voice of France proclaim’d a fury strain’d
to the height, to punish her Oppressors. This overture
for a while is so hotly pursued, that she (poor Queen)
with an abused confidence believ’d things as they seemed
in shew, true, perfect, real. ’Tis not alone her
errour, but a disease all flesh and blood embraceth;
with ease we credit what we wish and hope for: yet
where so great a Consequence waits on the action, there
is just cause to fear and doubt the sequel. Though
that our aims be just, discreet, and hopeful, yet if they
be confined to certain hazard, or do reflect upon the
private danger; of that same second hand that is engaged,
reason in justice strengthens the suspicion. To
right the Queen, and to restore her Heir; to ease the
Subject, punish the Oppressor; all these are works thus
far seem good and easie: but these, not Will, but Power
and Strength must compass, against a potent King in
his own Kingdom; which if it fell out well, return’d
with honour; if ill, endanger’d France with an Invasion,
which might perhaps prove fatal and unhappie.
Wise men are mov’d in Passion, not in Judgment, which
sifts the depth and core of such great actions, weighing
the danger and advantage, with the hazard and dependance;
which if they turn the Scale, or make them even,
takes off the edge of their propense affections,
which Cause asswag’d the heat of this employment.

Spencer eyes
the French,
Spencer, whose watchful eye was fixt on Paris, by his
Perspectives sees the glorious welcome that waits upon
the Queen and her attendants; he hears no other News,
but what provisions were made in France to serve for
but fears
them not.
War in England: he is not frighted, or a whit distempered;pered Cc2r 99
he knew the French were giddy, light, inconstant,
apter for Civil Broyls than Forraign Triumphs;
beginning more than Men, but in conclusion weaker
and more uncertain far than Women: he taxeth yet his
own improvidence, that gave the angry Queen so fair
advantage; ’twas not the Power of France he feared,
nor all their threatnings, but the intestine danger,
which seemed fearful: He knew the Subjects hearts
were quite estranged, which did expecting long for
some Combustion: severity of Laws had kept them under;
’twas not in duty, but by meer compulsion, which
backt by Forraign aid, and such brave Leaders, would
break their Chains upon the least Alarum.

To take off France, he straight selects his Agents,
such as well knew the ways of these employments, and
He bribes
them.
lades them o’er with Gold, and sound Instructions; bidding
them freely bribe, and promise mountains, till they
had undermin’d and cross’d the Queens proceedings: he
bids them charily observe the quality of time, and place,
and person, proportioning their Rates with such discretion,
that those which most could hurt were deepest laden.
These Pinaces of State thus fraighted, arrive at
Paris, where the heat was almost cool’d before their
coming; yet they go on to make the business surer:
they set upon the Pillars of the State, and feel their Pulses;
who wrought like Wax against the glorious Sunshine
of brighter Angels, which came showring downwards,
and struck them dumb and deaf for opposition:
Gold in an instant chang’d the Council’s temper, and
conquer’d without blowes their valiant anger. The
Queens distressed tears are now forgotten; they gave
impressions, these a real feeling: words are but wind, but
here’s a solid substance, that pierc’d not the ear, but
hearts of her assistants.

The Plot full-ripe, to make it yet more perfect, they
set upon the King, and shew the danger. To force by
Sea a passage into England, was a designe as truely weak as Cc2v 100
as hopeless, where wants a Navie, and the full provision
might give a sure Retreat, or certain Landing. To
cope at home with such a potent Kingdom, requir’d an
Army full of strength, and mighty, which must be still
supply’d with Men and Money; which not ready here
in such abundance, a Womans passion was too weak a
motive to levie Arms alone on that occasion, which
brings no other gains but merely Honour. The English
Nation were not so affected unto their Mistris Quarrel,
as to venture legal revenge, or else intestine rapine;
which they must hazard, if they loose, or vanquish.
Lastly, a bare relation of a female passion enforc’d the
Cause; which whether true or false, was yet in question;
the Plaintiff had been heard, but no Defendant. These
were the Reasons which are daily tender’d to take the
French King off from his intentions; which lov’d to
talk of War, but not to act it. A small perswasion
quickly fills his stomack, that could not well digest a
War with England. Young Kings that want Experience,
have not Judgment to touch the marrow of
their proper business, and sound the depths of Councels:
For Advisers may be abused, and bought and
sold to mischief, while Servants raise their gain from
their dishonour. This being so frequent, ’tis a Royal
Virtue, that hears, and sees, but gives no resolution in
things of weight, till he have reconciled his own with
judgment to the Councils reasons: if that it be above
his reach that is in question, let him not so rely upon
the great ones, that their words prove a Law, which
have their workings, that aim more at their ends, than
his advancement. As Kings have Councellors of State
to ease their Burden, so should they have a second help
to guard their Honour; a lesser body of selected good
ones, whose wisdomes privately inform him rightly of
what in goodness is most fit his judgment. State-
actions fill the Purse, but foul the Conscience; and
Policy may bloom the Profit, blights the Honour, which Dd1r 101
which Kings should keep as tender as their Eyesight.

Though thus the squares that fed her hopes were altered,
the Queen is still led on with promis’d Succours,
which at the upshot meet with new excuses. She seeing
these delays, and vain protractions, begins to doubt
and fear there was some juggling; yet bears it strongly
with a noble Patience, shewing no Discontent or least
Suspicion; hoping at worst that here in fsafety she and
her Son might anchor out their troubles. The Posts
that daily fly ’twixt France and England, had liberally
inform’d the state of French Occurrents. Spencer inform’d
the gap was stopt on that side, provides to quiet
all at home if he could work it: he sets upon the discontented
Barons, that hated him, and envied more his
Fortunes: he courts their favour, and imparts Promotions
that might betray them, more with shew than profit:
he makes the Gentry proud, by giving Titles that feed
ambitious mindes, but not content them; and takes off
from the People light Oppressions, but keeps afoot the
greatest Grievance, that kept them down from hope to
shake his Greatness. All sides do entertain it with a
seeming gladness, though well they knew it was enforced
kindness.

While each part thus dissembles their intentions, the
Navie was call’d home; a Charge was useless, where was
no fear might cause a forraign danger: the Ports were
open’d, and the Watch surceased that day and night attended
on the Frontier. This haste, as ’twas too sudden,
wants assurance: the rising Son was absent, and
still lookt for, while the declining dipt his cheeks in
darkness. To ease this care, the Queen is strongly tempted
by such as seem’d her friends, but were his Agents,
to reconcile her self unto her Husband, whom henceforth
she might rule as she thought fitting. When this
fell short, she is at least intreated to send back her young
Son, the Kingdoms comfort; which took it ill he should
be made a Stranger, or in the power of a forraign Nation.Dd tion. Dd1v 102
These sweet enchantments move no whit her
yielding, that too well knew the Serpent that begat
them; her Son sent back, they had the prey they lookt
for, and she must lack the prop must keep her upright.

This Project failing, they fall upon a new one.
King Edward
complains
to the
Pope.
The King frames a Letter to his Holiness, full of humility
and fair obedience, yet craving help, and bitterly
complaining that Isabel his Wife had fled his Kingdom,
pretending a meer Voyage of Devotion, and had stoln
away his Son, his only comfort, attended by a Crue
of trayterous Rebels, that strove to break the Peace
of Christian Princes; amongst which one being tane
in actual Treason, had escap’d his Prison by a lewd Inchantment,
whom he had cause to fear abus’d his Wedlock.
Lastly, the French King, his Alley and Brother,
received and kept them, being often summon’d to desist
and leave them. The Pack of this complaint so well
contrived, was not opposed by the French King’s
Council, who could be well content, that by commandment,
their importuning Guests were fairly quitted;
Necessity would colour actions of unkindness, if
Houshold-Laws were broke, or those of Nature. This
Letter runs from hence to Paris, from thence to Rome,
by that same practick Agent, that in this Interlude had
won the Garland; he bears a Picklock with him, that
must open the gates that were fast shut to guard the
Conclave: his first Arrival finds a fair reception:
Where Money makes the Mart, the Market’s easie.
These goodly gloses guilded o’re with shadows, must
win belief where there was none to answer: Had
they been just and true, the fact was odious, and might
in Justice challenge reformation; it was enough that
here it is believed so, the Fact was fully proved, the
Reason smother’d. The Cardinals, that freely felt the
English Bounty, perswade the Pope it was both just
and pious, so great a Misdemeanour should be question’d,stion’d, Dd2r 103
that gave the Christian word so lewd Example.
The Pope
admonishes
the French
King to quit
the Queen.
On this flies out a present Admonition to the French
King, that straight he free his Kingdome of this his
Sister-Queen and her Adherents, on pain of disobedience,
Interdiction.

She is enticed
to return
into
England.
While this Device was moulding, out of England the
Queen receives a large, but secret Summons, that all her
friends were ready to attend her with all things fitting
on her first arrival: more than the plagues of Egypt did
oppress them, which they nor could nor would endure
longer: they bid her hasten her return; though her
provision were not enough, their Swords should fight
her Quarrel. She with a joyful heart receives this offer,
which like a precious Balm, clos’d up the wounds
of her sad thoughts, made dull with her suspicion.
She tells the
French King.
More to advance this weighty work declining, she tells
the King the tenour of this tender. His clouded brow,
the character of Passion, discover’d soon the signes of alteration,
which yet seem’d more of Pitie than of Anger:
he had but then read his Italian Summons, which he
He shews
her the
Popes Sentence.
plucks forth, and casts his drooping Sister, bidding her
view, and wisely there consider, what danger he was in
by her protection. The amazed Queen, when she beheld
the Sentence, in stead of help, would rob her of
her refuge, she falls upon her knee imploring pitie, if
not to give her Aid, to right her Honour, which was eclipsed
with so foul a Slander. A showre of mellow
tears, as milde as April’s, thrill down her lovely cheeks,
made red with anger: dearly she begs at least but so
much respite until his Holiness might be informed, her
innocence was such sought no favour, but that the Law
should give upon full hearing. She doth implore him
that he would compare her adversaries malice with his
cunning, who not contented with her deep oppression,
sought to betray at once her Hope and Honour,
wrought with such art, and such a close conveyance,
that here her Judgement had outrun her Tryal.

He Dd2v 104

He nothing sorry for so fair a warrant that took him
off from charge and future hazard, and yet withal
would cover such Unkindness, seems to lament the cause,
and his condition, that of necessity must yeeld obedience:
he could not for her sake at one blow hazard the
danger of himself and his whole Kingdom. Not to
Perswades
her to
Peace.
forsake her wholly, he perswades her to entertain a
Peace; the King her Husband should yeeld to her Conditions:
he’ll effect it, that had a power to force it in
his denyal; which he would venture, if the World
gainsaid it. “Let him” (quoth he) “then use you ill, or not
receive you, I’ll make him know I can and will revenge it:
small time is left you to consider or dispute it; advise with
speed, and let me know your answer.”

She relates
it to the Bishop,
Cane,
and Mortimer.
The amazed Queen abandoned and forsaken, relates
at full this far unlookt-for passage unto the Bishop, Cane,
and Mortimer: their valiant hearts make good their Mistris
sorrows, and tell her they would set her right without
Who advise
her not to
return.
the French-men; bidding her not consent to her returning,
though it were soder’d up with showers of
kindness: she well enough did know her Husbands humour,
which would observe no Vow, no Oath, no Promise:
if Spencer once more seiz’d her in his clutches, she
Mortimer
storms.
should be surely mew’d, and kept from Gadding. Mortimer
contains not in this strain his Passion, but breaks
into the bitterness of Anger, taxing the French as base,
unkinde, perfidious, that knew not what belong’d to
The Queen
moderates.
love, or valour. The Queen, that knew the danger,
mildly calms him, letting him truely understand his
weakness, that in such provocation might beget surprisal,
when they must be sent back without prevention.
Though that her heart were fir’d, and swoln with anger,
she temporizeth so, ’twas undiscovered: a whispering
murmur, mutter’d from the Courtiers, says, that she
should be sent with speed for England: she feigns to
make provision for her Journey, yet unresolved which
way to scape, or whither; yet with this preparation she be- Ee1r 105
beguil’d the French that had cozen’d her; for they had
bargain’d to see her safe at home, and re-deliver’d. Being
thus irresolute, of means, of friends, of succour
unprovided; the Master failing, she attempts the Servants,
who sing their Masters tune by rote verbatim;
“they cannot give her single help or comfort”. Declining
misery that once is sinking, findes it self shunn’d like
some infectious Fever, and goes alone in shades and silent
darkness. Fortune’s bright Sun-shine walks with
more professors, than her resplendence hath or beams or
streamers; but if her glory sink, or be eclipsed, they shun
her fall, as children do a Serpent: and yet such tryals
guide not wretched Man’s election. Affection, (that
forsakes in choice the Judgement) is led alone by form,
and not by substance; which doth betray with ease where
it is trusted: if Vertue guide the chooser, the beginning
is mutual goodness, which still ends in glory. The
very height and depth of all Affliction cannot corrupt
the worth of such a Friendship, that loves the Man more
than it loves his Fortunes. The raging Storms and Winds
may blow and batter, yet still this goodly Rock makes
good his Station. The correspondencie of firm Affections
is purely innocent, sincerely grounded: if Private
ends or Worldly aims o’er-weigh them, they then are
but a meer Commerce and Traffick, which hold no longer
than the Bargain is driving. Where Truth apparently
doth warrant Love and Friendship, it lives and
dies, but never changeth Colour. But to proceed: the
Queen in this Distraction findes, past her hope, an unexpected
Comfort; this Heaven can do, when flesh and
Robert of
Artois
.
bloud’s at weakest. Robert of Arthois, a man both wise
and valiant, that loved Goodness for her own sake, not
for fashion, at her first coming tender’d her his Service:
he was a well-resolved steady States-man, not led by
Complement, or feign’d professions: he had been absent
during all this passage; returning, hears and pities
her Condition, blaming her Nations falshood, and her Ee mis- Ee1v 106
misfortune, which he resolves to help out with his best
Counsel: he seeks and findes the Queen, whom, sadly
musing, he interrupts, and thus revives her spirits.

His Speech. “Great Queen, It is the more excellent part of Wisdome,
with an equal Vertue to entertain the different kindes of
Fortune; this Peregrination of ours is a meer composition
of Troubles, which seem greater or less, as is the quality
of that heart that bears them: I must confess, you have
too great a portion, the Justice of your Grief doth truely
speak it; but Tears and Sorrow are not means to right
them. Just Heaven doth graciously behold and pity those
that do with an active Hope implore it, and work as well
as pray, the deeds of Goodness: your tender Sex, and
former great Condition, have been a stranger to these bitter
tryals; a little time will make them more familiar, and
then you will confess your Passions errour. They soonest
perish yield to their Afflictions, and see no journeys end
that tire with burden. For your own Vertues sake, resume
your spirits; your Sorrows are not such as you believe them.
Behold in me, your true and faithful Servant, a resolution
fixt to run your fortune; you may no longer hazard your
abode or being in this unworthy and unthank-ful Climate,
paved o’re and closely made to your destruction. Wherefore
if my advice my sway your judgment, let speed and care
prevent so sure and great a danger. Near to this place the
Empire hath his Confines, where many Princes are may
yield you Succour; at worst, you there may finde a sure Protection,
which in your Native Soil is more than doubtful.
I will not yet presume to teach your judgment, that can
much better sway your own Condition: Only I lay before you
truly my Conceptions, which have no other aim than for your
Safety. Your Wisdome may direct your best advantage,
which I will second with my Life and Fortunes.”

Which infinitely
joys
the Queen.
Infinitely was the Queen joy’d with his Relation,
which weighing the quality of the man that spake it, seem’d Ee2r 107
seem’d justly worth embracing: She findes it was sincere,
not light or verbal, which makes it self a partner
of her Sorrows; she doubles many Thanks, and gentle
Proffers of true requital, which her Son performed
when he himself was forced to leave his Country.
Straight she provides to follow his directions, and with
a wary and secret carriage, settles her self for her intended
Journey; yet still gives out she meant to go for
England, whither she sends a Post to treat Conditions,
with Letters smoothly writ in all submission; and courting
Spencer with a world of kindness, she lets him know
that she relyed solely upon his Love to be the Mediator.
Unto her Royal Brother she discourseth, that now she
understood the Peace was finisht, which made her first
a stranger to her Husband, who now would hasten home
to make it perfect. And to the Council, which well she
knew were bribed to send her back perforce, if she deny’d
it, she more and more extols and praiseth Spencer,
as if ’twere he alone had wrought her Welfare. The
English thus abus’d, the French deluded, both are secure;
she was providing homewards, which made the one remiss,
the other careless; else she, forestall’d, had found
her Project harder. In this her course she sees but small
appearance, and few such Hopes as might induce Assurance;
yet she resolves to hazard all, and wander, rather
than to return thus unprovided. Could she in reason
look for any assistance from Strangers, when her
Brother had denyed it? or could she think the Germans
would be faithful, when her own Birthright had for gain
betray’d her? Alas, she could not; yet enforc’d, must
venture that in her Hopes, could finde no other Refuge.
Necessity, the Law of laws, makes Cowards valiant, and
him content that hath no Choice to guide him; which
from the Barren’st ground expects some Harvest, that
else in danger would despair and perish. All things
prepar’d, and her Attendants ready, she takes a solemn
Leave, and thanks her Brother, assuring him she nothing more Ee2v 108
more desired, than that she might but live to quite his
Kindness. His Answer, like his Gifts, was short and little.
And thus she leaves the Court, in shew contented:
with a sad heart, a watry eye, a passion highly inflam’d,
she journeys forward till she came nearer where the
Bounders parted. The limits of ingrateful France she
then forsaking, gives them this parting Blow, to ease her
Sorrow.

Her Farewel
to France.
“Farewel”
(quoth she) “farewel, thou glorious Climate,
where I first saw the World, and first did hate it; thou
gavest me Birth, and yet denyest me Being; and Royal
Kinred, but no Friends were real. Would I had never
sought thy Help or Succour, I might have still believ’d thee
kinde, not cruel: but thou to me art like a graceleß mother,
that suckles not, but basely sells her children. Alas! what
have I done, or how offended, thou shouldst deny my life her
native Harbour? Was’t not enough for thee in my Distresses
to yeeld no Comfort, but thou must Expel me, and, which
was worse, Betray me to my Ruine? The poorest soul that
claims in thee a dwelling, is far more happie than thy Royal
Issue: but time will come thou wilt repent this Errour, if
thou remember this my just Prediction; my Off-spring will
revenge a Mothers Quarrel, a Mothers Quarrel just and fit
for Vengeance. Then shalt thou seek and sue, yet finde more
favour from him thy Foe, than I could win, a Sister.”

With this she weeping ends, and paceth forward,
the Wheel of Fortune turning: Grief grown greater,
few real Friends attend it, false forsake it: Infidelity,
the Plague of Greatness, is commonly at full, when
Hope doth lessen; and strives to make the Tide of
The Bishop
of Exeter

forsakes the
Queen.
Sorrow greater. Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter, who till
now had faithfully follow’d the Queens party, and
made himself a sharer of her action, with an unnoble
president doth now forsake her, seeing the French
hopes vanish’d, and those remaining hopeless; examiningning Ff1r 109
the grounds of her adventure, almost as short in
hope as in assurance, he slily steals away to his old
Master, which wins him Grace, but lost his Life and
Honour. Some think him from the first not sound or
real, but a meer stalking-horse for Spencer’s Cunning:
but this hath no congruity with Reason. The Queens
departure unknown and unsuspected, in which he was
a prime and private Actor, had he at first been false,
had been prevented, at least the Prince’s; which had
marr’d the project. Neither can I believe so mean or
basely of that same Reverend Honour of his Calling,
that it would be a Conduit-pipe to feed the stomack
of such a tainted, foul, polluted Cistern. By this
Treachery the resolutions of the Queen are fully discover’d;
the Landskip of her Travels soon survey’d,
begets a more contempt than fear of danger. The
coldness of the French King being understood,
their flat denial yet contents not Spencer, who did
expect his bargain for his Money: Had he had but
the Prince, they had dealt fairly, while he was being
in their proper power. But they, to justifie
themselves, profess it freely the Queen had gone beyond
them with their Cunning; They thought she had
been homeward bound, as she divulged. Thus Womens
Wit sometimes can cozen Statesmen. Now are
the German Natures sifted, and their Motions, who
fight but ill for words, and worse for nothing. Their
Constitutions dull and slow, were fitter to guard a
Fort, than to invade a Kingdom. The Queen was
bare of Money, void of Credit; which might beget
them Valour, her assistance. These were conceptions
pleas’d our Minions fancy.

Time, that at length outstrips the longest journey,
hath brought our English Pilgrims into Henault. The
Earl, a man was truely good and noble, resolv’d
Is bravely
welcomed
by the Earl.
so Royal Guests deserv’d as brave a Welcome, esteeming
it a Vertue fit his greatness, to be the Patron Ff of Ff1v 110
of Majestick Ruines: He had a Brother youthful,
strong, and valiant, one that lov’d Arms, and made
His Brother
pities the
Queen,
them his profession; this man observ’d the Queen, and
sees her sorrow, which deeply sunk, and mov’d a swift
Compassion: when he beheld a Misery so great and
glorious, a structure of such worth, so fair and lovely,
forsaken, unfrequented, and unfurnisht, by the
curst hand of an unworthy Landlord, he vows within
himself to help repair it: He tells her, he pitied
her Misfortune; his heart as well as eye did bear him
and promises
his Service.
witness: He promis’d her his Service and Assistance,
which he would both engage in this her quarrel; and
seems right glad of such a fair occasion to shew his
Valour in so brave a Quarrel.

So fair a Morning made the Evening hopeful: By
those sweet looks of her distressed Beauty, and the
best language of so rich a Pleader, she doth confirm
his well-disposed Affection, whose willing offer seem’d
more than Courtship. The gallant Henaulder engag’d,
He makes
preparation.
makes preparation to set upon this glorious Work, this
great Employment. Pity, that strains the Nerves of
vertuous Passions, moves faster far, when that which
gives it motion doth relish Beauty, Justice, Goodness.
The Tongue that harshly pleads his own compassion, is
for the most part entertain’d with like respondence;
when humble Sweetness, cloath’d in truth and plainness,
invites the ear to hear, the heart to pity. Who by a
crooked fortune is forced to try and to implore the
help of Strangers, must file his words to such a winning
Smoothness, that they betray not him that hears
or speaks them; yet must they not be varnisht o’re
with Falshood, or painted with the terms of Art or
Rhetorick; this bait may catch some Gudgeons, but
hardly him that hath a solid Judgment. ’Tis more improper
where we sue for favour, to russle boysterously,
or grumbling murmur some unsavoury Prayers; which
seems to threaten rather a kinde of force, than hope of Ff2r 111
of pity: So begging Souldiers fright a Country-Farmer.


The Earl
condemns
his haste.
The Earl being a man well broken in the affairs of
State, having a knowledge of this his Brothers resolution,
thinks it tasted more of Heat than sound Discretion;
he condemns his haste, and blames his promise;
and sending for him, with a grave, yet mild discourse,
doth thus present the danger:

“To undertake a War, is far more weighty, than hand to
hand to fight a single Combat; the one needs many
strengths, the other skill and valour. Who thinks with
his own arm to gain a Conquest, may sell his Life, and
yet not purchase Honour. I pity, as you do, this Royal
Lady, and would assist her too, if I were able; but to
attempt where is no hope to vanquish, makes Foes of
Friends, and Friends far more unhappy. France has
refus’d, a strong and warlike Nation; that King, a Brother,
wisely waves the quarrel; he knows the English
Strength, and so digests it, that he’ll not undertake a
War so hopeless. Think you your self more prudent, strong,
or able, than is the Power and Strength of France united?
Or can you dream the English may be conquered by a few
forward Youths that long for action? Do not mistake
the work of your Adventure, which is too sad and great
for greater Princes. I do commend your forward Valour,
noble Pity; it shewes a vertuous Zeal and Will to Goodness:
but measure well the act ere you begin it; your
Valour else must have a lame Repentance. Where is the
Sinew of the War that must maintain it? Nor she nor
you have Arms, or Means, or Money; and sure Words
will not conquer such a Kingdom. Yet if you will be fixt,
on God’s Name venture, I’ll help you what I can: I’ll
be no Party. True Valour dwells not with an overdaring,
but lives with those that fight by just discretion, where
there is Hope at least, if not Advantage. Could you but
credit the beginning, that in reason the world might think it Ff2v 112
it had a touch of Judgment, I must confess I should approve
your Valour; but you can only countenance your first
motion with confidence beyond the Moon or Planets: Then
leave betimes, before you be engaged, which after must
much more impair your Honour. We’ll both assist her with
our Purse and Forces, yet do it so, the quarrel seem not
ours.”

Sir John with a quiet and attentive patience hears
out his Brother, knowing his admonitions sprung from
an honest Heart and grave Experience, yet thinks
rob’d by Age of youthful Vigour; from which belief
he draws this sudden Answer.

His Answer. “Sir, If all the world forsake this Noble Lady, my single
arm alone shall fight her quarrel; I have engag’d my Faith,
and will preserve it, or leave my Bones within the Bed of
Honour: No After-age shall taint me with such baseneß,
I gave a Queen my Vows, and after broke them. Such
presidents as these we seldom meet with, nor should they
be so slenderly regarded. The Mother and her Son, the
Heir apparent of such a Kingdom, plead in Justice Pity;
Nor shall She basely be by me forsaken. Reasons of State
I know, not your own Nature, do take you off from such a
glorious Action, which your own Vertue tells you is full of
Goodness. Then sit you still, cry ayme: I’ll do the business.
Inglorious France may shame in his refusal; nor
will I follow such a strain of baseness. Although no
Sister, ’tis a Queen that seeks it; a Queen that justly merits
Love and Pity. I have some Followers, Means, and
some Friends and State to stick too; I’ll pawn them all
ere she shall be forsaken. I know I can in safety bring her
thither, and she hath there her Friends will bid her welcome.
That King hath lost his Subjects hearts, grown
sore with grievance; his Minions hatred will be our
advantage: Admit the worst, her expectations fail her,
we then can make retreat without dishonour. But Edward Gg1r 113
Edward then may chance revenge the quarrel; we have
those pawns will make our own Conditions; the King in
the remainder being ours, they’ll buy our Peace, and not
incense our Anger. I’ll not deny, ’tis good to weigh the
hazard; but he that fears each danger, shall do nothing,
since every humane Action hath Suspicion. I am resolv’d
your Love shall still command me; yet give me leave to be
mine own elector. I cannot blaunch this act which I am
tyed to, without the taint of shame and foul dishonour,
which I will rather dye than once consent to, although
your self and all the world perswade me.”

These words spoken so full home, with such a brave
resolution, stopt all reply, and farther contradiction.
The Queen
jealous of
Treachery.
The Queen, who had already a French and an Italian
trick, was jealous lest she here should taste a Flemish
one. The Earl’s Speech had given her a doubtful belief
that he had been tamper’d withal, seeing his first
temper so much cooled: She knew well enough, if
Money could prevail, it would be tender’d freely;
and she must then be bought and sold to mischief.
Many of her Domestick Spies were here attending, as
Spencer’s Agents
frustrated.
she well knew and saw, to work her ruine. Spencer
’tis true had sent his Agents hither with like Instructions,
and their Bills of lading; but here they finde their pains
and labour fruitless. The Earl was himself, not led by
Counsel; and had a heart of steel against corruption,
though he was loath to back alone this quarrel; which
did proceed from Want, not Will to help her: yet he abhorr’d
the very thought of selling his Fame and Honour
by so foul Injustice. Yet those that had the charge were
not so hopeless, but that a little time might hap to work it:
As all Courts have, his had a kinde of people, and these
were great ones too, that boldly warrant and undertake
to undermine their Master; which dayly fed them more
and more with Money, while they give only words instead
of payment. The Briber trades but on poor advantage,Gg vantage, Gg1v 114
that buys but Hope, and that at best uncertain;
which often fails, although ’tis dearly purchas’d: And
reason good, since this may be a Maxime; Corrupted
mindes, that to do the actions of Injustice will prejudice
the Soul and Conscience, by the contracting of a
wicked enterprise for gain or lucre, will never refuse,
in hope of a greater advantage, to sell themselves to a
second mischief.

The Queens
doubts increasing,
she
importunes
the hastning
her journey:
But now the Queens doubts increasing, and her longing
grown to the height of her expectation, she is enforced
with more importunity to hasten on the advancement
of her Journey: she makes her winning looks
(the handmaids of her Hopes) express their best ability,
But without
need.
more to enflame the heart of her Protector. But alas!
these motives need not; ambition of Glory, the natural
operations of Pitie, and the honest care of his engagement,
had made him so truely hers, and careful of this
designe, that he leaves no means or opportunity unattempted,
that might set it forward. Already had he
gotten together Three hundred well-resolved Gallants,
that vow to live and dye in this fair Quarrel. Here
was the body of this preparation, the pillar that this
Enterprize must stick to. Confidence is certainly, in
the actions of this nature, a singular Vertue, and can
work Wonders; else we cannot but believe this little
Army scarce strong enough to conquer such a Kingdom.
The Queens hopes must in reason have been very
desperate, if her Domestick expectation had not been
greater than her forreign Levy: But more could not
be had, without some doubt, more hazard, and a longer
protraction; and these are believed sufficient to try
their fortune, if not to master it. They stay not
therefore to attend the gaining of a multitude, which
might at their arrival rather beget suspicion, than win
assistance. If the intelligence kept touch, they were
sure of Men enough, and they had Leaders.

Spencer’s purloyning Brokers seeing the flood coming, which Gg2r 115
which yet would, as they thought, at best prove but a
Neap-tide, since they fail’d in the deepest Mystery of
their employment (for here was room for no corruption)
resolve yet not to make their labour altogether
fruitless, but to give their great Master a true touch of
their willingness and ability; the remainder of that
Money which fell short in the Master-piece, they employ
to gain a true and full understanding of the
height and quality of this Army, and principally to
what part it was directed. Gold, that makes all things
easie, fails not in this his forcible Operation; which
brings unto them the information of the Men, Arms,
and number, with the quality of the Navy that was to
waft them, and the very Haven intended for their place
of landing. Though, the Circumstances duely consider’d,
the bulk of this Enterprize was in it self contemptible
enough; yet to improve their own diligence, they
extenuate and lessen it in their advertisement; they
send away a forerunning Post, to anticipate the doubt,
and forestal the danger. But now all provisions are
ready, and attend the moving of these hopeful Adventurers.
The Queen with a lively look, the Presager
of her future fortune, takes a solemn leave of
her kinde Host with many hearty thanks, which must
stand for payment till she had recover’d the ability to
free the reckoning; which after she as truely performed,
by matching the King her Son to a Daughter of
the House of Heinault.

The Queen
embarques
at Dort.
At Dordrecht the Prince and She with their Retinue
are led a shipboard, whence they depart and steer
their Course for Dongport-haven, which was the place
resolv’d on for their Landing; that part being held the
fittest and the readiest to give them succour. The Heaven,
that favour’d their designe, was more propitious,
and from their present Fear procures their Safety.
Spencer being largely inform’d of their intentions, had
made a sound provision, to give them a hotter welcome than Gg2v 116
than they could withstand or look for, had their directions
held as they had meant them. Scarce had they
run the Mornings-Watch, the Skies grew cloudy, a
sullen darkness spread all o’re the Welkin; the blustering
Winds break loose with hollow roaring, and
angry Neptune makes his Level Mountains: The watry
Element had no Green-sickness, but curled banks of
snow that sparkle fury. These Callenders at once assail
the Vessel, whose Lading was the Hope and Glory
of a Kingdom; the wooden House doth like a Mew
triumphing, bestride the angry Billow; and as a Horse
well-mannag’d, doth beat his Corvet bravely, without
the hazard of his careful Rider.

She is frighted
at Sea.
The Queen, that knew no Flouds, no Tempests,
but those which sprung from Sighs and Tears of Passion,
grows deeply frighted, and amaz’d with danger:
The little Prince, that ne’re had felt such motions as
made him deadly sick without disorder, takes it unkindly,
and with sick tears laments the hansel of his
first profession to be a Souldier. All are confus’d; the
Mariners dejected, do speak their tears in language
seem’d to conjure. Three days together tost and tumbled,
they float it out in hope without assurance; in
all which time the poor distressed Vessel durst neither
wear a Band, or bear a Bonnet. The violence at
length being somewhat swaged, and the bright Sun
appearing, smiling sweetly, they finde themselves in
view of Land, but where they knew not, nor thought
it fit by landing to discover. While thus irresolute
they rest debating, a second doubt enforc’d their resolution;
their Victual was too short to feed their number
till they could tack about for some new Harbour;
a fault without excuse in such employments; this made
She lands at
Harwich.
them venture forth at Harwich to try their fortune:
Unshipping of their Men, their Arms, their Luggage,
was long in action, and with much disorder; three
days are spent in this, while they are forced to make the Hh1r 117
the naked Sands their strength and bulwark. This
made great Spencer’s errour most apparent; the least
resistance here, or shew, or larum, had sent them back
to Sea, or else surpriz’d them; a little strength at Sea
had stopt their passage, or made them lawful prize by
such a purchase: But After-wits can help precedent
Errours, if they may be undone, and then new acted.
Yet to excuse this oversight, in shew so wretchless,
’twas his Intelligence, not Judgment fail’d him: knowing
the weakness, he esteem’d his vantage in suffering
them to land secure and certain: He would not blaunch
the Deer, the Toyl so near, which he was confident
would give possession of those he had so long pursued
and sought for. To raise a Guard to wait upon each
quarter, if it were Wisdome, might be no Discretion,
as his affairs then stood; such motions promis’d rather a
Guard to bid them welcome, than resist them: as it
would cause a fear, so ’twas a Summons to such as were
resolved to back their Party: He made that place alone
secure, where he expected, and they themselves resolv’d
to make their landing; the rest he leaves at random,
and to Fortune, rather than make things worse
by more Commotion.

But now this weather-beaten Troop march’d boldly
forward, finding as yet few friends, but no resistance:
Marching
forward. She
is refresh’d
at St. Hamonds
Abbey.
Whoso had seen their Body, might have deemed they
had been come to rob some Neighbour-Village, rather
than bent to bid the King to such a Breakfast. St. Hamondes,
an Abbey of black Monks, had the honour to
give their long-lost Mistriss the first Welcome: Here
She receives a fair and free refreshing, and yet but a faint
hope of present succour, without the which she knew
her case was desperate. The bruit of this strange Novelty
was here divulged; which like a Thunder-shower,
or some Land-water that had drown’d the Marshes, and
o’reflown the Level, doth make the Cattle run to seek
for succour: But when they knew the bent of her intentionsHh tentions Hh1v 118
not fixt to rifle, but reform the Kingdom,
they come like Pigeons by whole flocks to her assistance.
Soon flew the News unto the grieved Barons, whose
itching ears attentive, long’d to meet it: It doubled as
it flew; and ere it toucht them, three hundred Henaults
were ten thousand Souldiers. They lose no
Lancaster
first joyns
her.
time, for fear of some prevention. Henry of Lancaster,
whose Brothers Death and proper grievance inflam’d
his heart with Grief, his hand for Vengeance,
with a strong troop of Friends and stout Attendants,
was the first great one that encreas’d her Party; while
many other brave and noble Spirits do second him themselves,
and all their Forces. By these Supplies the
Queen and her great Strangers are quickly cured, and
freed from their first Quartane that shak’d their hopes
with so much agitation.

The slumbring King had slept out all the Prologue of
this sad Tragedy, which he suspects would end in blood
and mischief: As in his pleasures, in this weighty business
he had rely’d secure on Spencer’s Wisdome; but now
the hollow murmur of his danger thunder’d so loud, that
The King
is despairingly
sorrowful:
his
Council
startled.
he enforc’d, awakes, and sees nought but the face of a
despairing Sorrow: each day brings news of new revolt,
each hour a Larum, that threatned guilty Souls
with Blood and Vengeance: His startled Council frighted,
fainting, hopeless, fall to survey the strength of
their pursuers; but while they are a registring their
Forces, they are inform’d the Storm grows strong
and greater, and like a Ball of Snow increas’d by motion.
Their proper Weakness, and the Ill-affection of
those which should defend their Soveraigns quarrel,
makes action doubtful, and the end as hopeless; so that
no certain way remain’d to stop the current. Now is
the Errour tax’d, and Judgment blamed, that neither
barr’d the Gates, nor stopt the Entry, since in the
House itself was no assurance. Now is the Cruelty
that judg’d the Barons dearly repented, which was come Hh2r 119
come for vengeance. Now is the Tyranny of all that
Grievance which had abus’d the King, and robb’d the
Kingdom, condemn’d by his own Actors, as a motive
in Justice fit to be reform’d and punish’d. Lastly, the
purchase gain’d by such corruption as sold Promotions,
Places, Justice, Honour, yields no assistance, but doth
prove a burden, which bruis’d the hearts and thoughts
of them that bare it. Affliction, fittest Physick, sole
Commandress for all diseased Minds, polluted Bodies,
when she doth sharply touch the sense of our transgressions,
begets a Sorrow, and a sad Repentance; making
us know our selves and our own weakness, which were
meer stangers to our own Conditions: This she effects
in all; though full Repentance be a work proper to a
true Contrition, which by amendment makes her
Power more perfect. A Minde that’s prepossest, by
Custome hardned, with a resolved Will that acts Injustice,
observes the first part of her Precepts; sadly
sorry, yet ’tis not for his actions, but those errours
laid him open to so curst a tryal: The point of Satisfaction
or Amendment it thinks too deep a ransome,
hard a sentence, which easeth not, but addes to his
misfortune. If here might end the end of mans Creation,
this had some colour for such crafty Wisdome;
but where Eternity of Bliss or Torment doth wait upon
the Soul, that leaves the Body a prey to Death, and
to a base Corruption, it is an act of madness to betray
it with humane Policy, without Religion. Actions of
goodness must be truely acted; not sacrificing part, but
all the Offering, observing every point that is requir’d
to make up a Repentance full and perfect. This Lesson
is too hard for those great Babies that suck the
milk of Greatness, not Religion. The Fundamental
part being fixt to get unjustly, believes a restitution
more improper, which makes their cares and former
labours fruitless, and in an instant blights an age of
gleanings: These be the Meditations of a Statesman, grown Hh2v 120
grown plump and fat from other mens Oppressions;
they live in doubtful pleasures, dye in terrour; what
follows after, they do feel for ever.

Our Councellors, though they were deeply toucht
with cause, had yet no leasure but to deliberate their
proper safety, which findes a poor protection, dull, and
hopeless. Their Enemies rejoyce, their Friends turn
craven, and all forsake the pit before the battle. Necessity,
that treads upon their heels, admits no respite;
they must resolve to fight, or flye, or suffer: This
makes them chuse that course which seem’d most hopeful,
to temporize, which might beget advantage; the
fury of this storm in time would lessen; the giddy motions
of the Vulgar seldome lasted, which throng to all
that tends to Innovation: A Kings distress once truely
known, would win him succour, since those which
break his peace not seek his ruine. With these vain
hopes he seeks to guard the City, and make the Tower
strong of all Provision; knowing that he which hath
but London sure, though all the rest be lost, may yet
recover.

The King
suspects the
City of
London.
But Edward will not hear to keep the City; their
multitude he fear’d would first betray him: He knew
they were a crew of weaker Spirits, for fear would sell
their fathers, or for profit; they never sift the Justice,
or the quarrel, but still adhere and stick to him that’s
strongest: had he still kept this Hold, and took the
Tower, but with the strength he had, and might have
levied, he then had bridled up the wavering City,
and kept his Adversaries at a bay too long and doubtful
for their affairs, which were but yet uncertain. The
guard of this place he commends to Stapleton Bishop of
Exeter
: This Charge did not properly suit with his
profession, unless ’twere thought his tongue could
charm Obedience: but he already had been false, betray’d
his Mistriss, and with more reason might be now
suspected. It seems they had no choice, and strong presum- Ii1r 121
presumptions the City would not long remain obedient:
if so, the fact was worse and more unworthy, to leave
so good a friend in such a hazard. The King, with
Arundel and both the Spencers, with small attendance
Betakes himself to
Bristow.
get them hence to Bristow: His Army was much less in
his own Kingdom, than those the Queen had rais’d by
forreign pity. This Town was strong and able, well
provided, and had a Haven, whence in occasion they
might venture further: But yet the King might have
the same suspicion, which made him leave and quit the
strength of London. Arundel and Winchester do undertake
the City, Edward and Bristow would make good
the Castle; here was the refuge they resolve to stick
to, which in the Citizens assurance seem’d defensive.

The Queen understanding the Royal Chamber was
forsaken, and left to the custody of the Bishop her old
Servant, that had given her the slip in her Travels,
quickly apprehends the advantage; addressing a fair, but
The Queen
sends a
mandatory
Letter to
the Mayor
of London,
to keep the
City for her
and the
Prince.
mandatory Letter from her self and her Son to Chickwell,
then Lord Mayor, to charge him so to reserve and keep
the City to their use, as he expected favour, or would answer
the contrary at his peril. Upon the receipt of this
Letter, he assembles the Common-Council; and by a
cunning-couch’d Oration, the Recorder makes known the
Contents; which is no sooner understood, but the general
Cry, that observ’d the Tide turning, proclaim it reason
to embrace the Queens Party, who was so strongly provided
to reform the Disorders of the Kingdom. Stapleton
having gotten the knowledge of this passage,
sends to the Mayor for the keys of the Gates, for the
Kings assurance, and his proper safety; who being incens’d
Bishop Stapleton
beheaded
by
the Multitude.
with the affront of this inconsiderate Bishop,
apprehends him, and delivers him to the fury of the
enraged multitude; who neither respecting the Gravity
of his Years, or the Dignity of his Profession, strike
off his Head, without either Arraignment, Tryal, or
Condemnation: This brain-sick and heady act had too Ii far Ii1v 122
far engag’d them to reconcile them; they must now
either adhere solely to the Queen, or to taste a bitter
Penance. The King had an ill Memory in point of
desert; but the actions of so unjust a Disorder he kept
registred in brass, until he gain’d the opportunity of
Revenge; then he never fail’d it. It was a mad part,
on so poor an occassion, to act so bloody a Tragedy,
which took away all hope of Reconciliation, if the
Wheel had turned: However the squares had went,
they were upon terms good enough, so long as they
contain’d themselves in any temperate condition: But
this was a way which incens’d the one part, and not
assur’d the other. But the actions of this same heady
monster Multitude never examine the Justice, or the
dependance, but are led by Passion and Opinion;
which in fury leaves no Disorder unacted, and no Villany
unattempted. But certainly this was a meer cunning
practice of the Mayor, who being underhand
made sure to the adverse Party, resolv’d to make it of
a double use; the one, to help on the opinion of his
devotion to the Queen, in the punishment of him that
betraid her; the other, by this action to make the
Citizens desperate of favour, and so more resolute;
who else, being mutable as Weather-cocks, might alter
on the least occasion. Let the consideration be what
it will, the Fact was inhumane and barbarous, that
spilt, without Desert or Justice, the Blood of such a
Reverend Prelate; who yet had so much happiness
as to leave to his Honour in the University of Oxford,
a remarkable Memorial of his Charity and Goodness.
But now to seek out the reward of this vertuous Service,
four of the principal and most eminent Burghers
are selected to make known their proceedings and devotion;
who are graciously received, entertain’d, and
highly thanked, for their lawless bloody Fact, which
was stiled an excellent piece of Justice. Though the
deed had been countenanced, in that it ran with the sway Ii2r 123
sway of the time, and the Queens humour; yet certainly
no great cause of commendation appears; which
is so more properly due to the Hangman, which performeth
the grave Ceremonies of his Office by Warrant,
and the actual part on none but such as the Law hath
made ready for his Fingers.

The Queen
sets out for
Bristol.
Now is the Queen settling her remove for Bristow,
where the Prey remain’d her Haggard-fancy long’d for:
She was unwilling to give them so much advantage,
though she believ’d it almost impossible, as to hazard
the raising of an Army, or so to enable their Provisions
and Defences, that it might adjourn the hope of
making her Victory perfect. She saw she had a great
and Royal Army, well provided; but how long it
would hold so, she knew not; the principal strength
and number consisting of the giddy Commons, who
like Land-floods, rise and fall in an instant: they had
never yet seen the face of an Enemy, nor did rightly
understand what it was to bear Arms against the King,
whom they must here behold a party. These considerations
hasten her on with more expedition. All the
way as she went; she is entertain’d with joyful Acclamations:
Her Army still grows greater, like a beginning
Cloud that doth fore-run a Shower. When
she was come before this goodly City, and saw his
strength, and the Maiden-Bravery of their opposition,
Whence a
hot Salley
upon her.
which gave her by a hot Salley, led by the valiant
Arundel, a testimony of her Welcome, she then thinks
that in the Art of War there was somewhat more than
meer Imagination; and justly fear’d lest the Royal Misery
would beget a swift Compassion; which was more
to be doubted of him in his own Kingdom, since she
herself had found it in a forreign Country. But smiling
Fortune, now become her Servant, scarce gives
her time to think she might be hinder’d. The Townsmen,
that knew no Wars but at their Musters, seeing
themselves begirt, the Market hinder’d, which was their Ii2v 124
their chiefest and best Revenue, begin among themselves
to examine the business; They saw no likelihood
of any to relieve them, and daily in danger of some sad
surprizal. They saw their Lives, Wives, Children and
state at stake for the defence of those that had oppress’d
them, and wrong’d the Kingdome by their foul Injustice:
they measur’d the event of an unruly Conquest,
where many look for Booty, all for Pillage. This did
so cramp their valiant hearts, that the Convulsion seeks
A treaty
desired by
that City:
a present Treaty. The Queen seeing a Pusillanimity beyond
her hopes, and a taint unlook’d for, makes the
use, and hits them on the blind side, and answers
plainly, She will have no Imparleance, no discoursing;
if they desir’d their own Peace, and her assured Favour,
they then must entertain and follow her Conditions:
which if they but delay’d, the next day following
Which being
rejected,
the Queen
gives them
a peremptory
Summons.
they should abide their Chance, she would her
Fortune. This doom (as it sounds harshly) was deem’d
too heavy; but no intreaty could prevail, she would
not alter. They yet desire to know what she requir’d;
and that she grants, and thus unfoldeth: “Your
Lives and Goods”
(quoth she) shall rest untouched, nor
shall you taste your selves the least Affliction, so you deliver
up with speed your Captains, and in the time prefixt
resign the City.”
A choice so short, so sharp, so peremptory,
being related in the staggering City, breeds
straight a supposition, not without reason, she had
some certain practis’d Plot within them, or else some
way assured for to force the City. They could have
been content she had their Captains, since it would set
them free from fear and danger; but to be Actors in
so foul a Treason, or sacrifice their Guests that came
for succour, this they conceit too false and poor a baseness.
No more Imparleance is allow’d, or will be heard,
no second motion; the breach in their faint hearts is so
well known, that nothing is allow’d but present Answer:
This smart proceeding melts their leaden Valour, which Kk1r 125
It is yielded. which at the first had made so brave a flourish, and
brings Arundel, Winchester, and the Town to her possession.

When mans own proper portion is in question, and
all he hath at stake, be it but doubtful, his eye doth
more reflect on his own danger, than on the Laws of
Justice, Friendship, Honour. Charity, ’tis true, begins
at home; but she’s a Vertue hath no society with
Fraud or Falshood; neither is the breach of Faith, or
touch of Treason, allow’d within the verge of her rich
Precepts. I do confess, Necessity may drive him to
such a bitter choice, that one must perish; but this
should be, when things are so near hopeless, that there
be more than words to give it justice. A wise and
noble minde adviseth soundly upon the act, before it is
engaged; but being so, it rather sleeps with Honour,
than lives to be the map of his thus tainted Conscience.
The interest of Friends, of Guests, of poor oppressed,
(though diversly they touch the Patrons credit) yet all
agree in this one point of Vertue, Not to betray, where
they have vow’d assistance. Had these faint Citizens not
given assurance, had they not vow’d to keep their Faiths
untainted, the other had not trusted nor inclosed themselves
within so weak and false a Safeguard. But they were
most to blame, that would so venture their Lives within
the power of such a Berry, where they might know
were none but suckling Rabbets, that would suspect
each Mouse to be a Ferret. Had they but had a guard,
secur’d their persons, they might have awed them, or
themselves have scaped.

Part of the prey thus gotten, no time is lost to call
them to a reckoning. Sir Thomas Wage, Marshal of
the Army, draws up a short Information of many
large offences, which are solemnly read to the attentive
Army, with a Comment of all the harsh aggravations
might make them more odious. The confused clamour
of the Multitude, serves for Judge, Jury, and Verdict; Kk which Kk1v 126
which brings them to a sharp Sentence to be forthwith
hang’d, and their Bodies to remain upon the Gallows.
Old Spencer
Executed.
Revenge brooks no delay, no leisure Malice. Old
Spencer feels instantly the rigour of this Judgment:
The Green before the Castle is made the place of Execution.
Nature that gave him Life, had almost left him;
her Vigour was near spent, her Beauty wither’d; he
could not long have liv’d, if they had spar’d him.
Ninety cold Winters he had past in freedom, and findes
untimely Death to end his Story: He parts without
complaint or long discoursing; he speaks these few
words only, free from passion: “God grant the Queen may
finde a milder Sentence, when in the other world she makes
The King
and young
Spencer amaz’d.
her Audit.”
The King, and his unhappy Son, the sad
Spectators of this Heart-bleeding Tragedy so full of
horrour, are with his dying farewel so amazed, that
scarcely they had speech, or breath, or motion; so bitter
a Preludium made them censure their own conditions
were as nearly fatal. The King, a Sovereign, Father,
and a Husband, did hope these Titles would be yet
sufficient to guard his Life, if not preserve his Greatness;
but these prov’d all too weak: Where Crowns
are gain’d by Blood and Treason, they are so secured.
Spencer had not a grain of hope for mercy: the Barons
Deaths prejudg’d his coming fortune. The Queen
used not to jest where she was angry; his Fathers end
assur’d her inclination, and bade him rather venture any
hazard, than that which must rely on female pity.
With a world of Melancholy thoughts he casts the
danger, yet could not finde a way that might prevent
it. The Castle in it self was strong, but weakly furnisht.
Time now he sees could promise no assistance;
their Adversaries were full bent to work their ruine,
either by publick Force, or private Famine; so that in
their abode was sure destruction. The King in this declar’d
himself a Noble Master; he priz’d his Servants
Life as his own Safety, which won them both to try
their utmost hazard.

The Kk2r 127

The Queen
batters the
Castle.
The Queen impatient to surprize this Fortress, doth
batter, undermine, and still assail it; but these were all
in vain, and proved fruitless; the Rampiers were too
strong, too well defended: She threatens and intreats,
but to small purpose; here were no Citizens that might
betray it: Alas, there needed none, as it succeeded;
the proper Owners wrought their own confusion; they
leave their strength, and closely try their fortune,
The King
and Spencer
betake to a
Bark, but are
beaten back
by Weather.
which made them board a Bark rode in the Harbour,
in hope to get away undescryed: This was the Plot, or
none, must work their freedome. But all things thrive
alike with him that’s falling. The Gale averse, they
softly tide her onwards; the Wind will not consent to
give them passage, but rudely hurls them back to their
first Harbour. Thrice had they past St. Vincents Rock,
famous for Bristow Diamonds; but in that Reach are
hurryed back with fury: The Elements of Earth, of
Air, of Water, conspir’d all at once to make them
hopeless.

Sir Henry Beaumonde quartered next the Haven, being
inform’d that this gadding Pinnace had often attempted
passage without reason, the wind contrarious, and the
weather doubtful, suspects that her designe was great
The Bark
seized.
and hasty; on this he seiz’d her, and surveys her lading,
which prov’d a prize beyond his expectation: within
her hollow bulk, a Cell of darkness, he findes this pair
obscur’d, not undiscover’d. The King hath gracious
words, and all due reverence; but Spencer is contemned,
and used with rigour. This ends the War, and
gave the work perfection. Fortune, that triumphs in
the Fall of Princes, like a Stepmother, rests not where
she frowneth, till she have wholly ruin’d and o’rethrown
their Power, that do precede or else oppose her Darlings.

The Queen having thus attained to the full of her
desire, resolves to use it to the best advantage: Ambition
seis’d her strongly, yet resigneth to her incensed Passion Kk2v 128
Passion the precedence; her own good nature (though
she might adventure) she would not trust so far, to see
her Husband; nor did she think it fit those valiant
strangers begun the work, should view or see the
Captive; such sights sometimes beget as strange impressions;
The King
sent to Berkly
Castle
.
instantly he is convey’d to Berklay-Castle, there to
remain restrained, but well attended. Spencer is hardly
kept, but often visited; ’twas not with pity, which befits
Spencer insulted
over.
a Prisoner, but with insulting joy, and base derision.
Their eyes with sight, and tongues with rayling glutted,
the act must follow that may stop the rancour,
which gives him to the Marshal lockt in Irons: He here
receives the self-same entertainment his aged Father
found; alone the difference, he had a longer time, and
sharper Sentence. All things thus order’d, the Queen
removes for London, meaning to make Hereford her
way, and the last Journey of her condemned Prisoner,
that attends her each place she passeth by. A world of
people do strain their wider throats to bid her welcome,
with yelping cries that ecchoed with confusion. While
She thus passeth on with a kinde of insulting Tyranny,
far short of the belief of her former Vertue
and Goodness, she makes this poor unhappy man attend
her Progress, not as the antient Romans did their
vanquish’d Prisoners, for ostentation, to increase their
Triumph; but merely for Revenge, Despite, and private
Rancour; mounted upon a poor, lean, ugly Jade,
as basely furnisht; cloath’d in a painted Taberd, which
was then a Garment worn by condemned Thieves alone;
and tatter’d rascally, he is led through each Town behinde
the Carriage, with Reeds and Pipes that sound
the summons to call the wondering Crue together might
abuse him; all the bitter’st actions of disgrace were
thrown upon him. Certainly this man was infinitely
vicious, and deserv’d as much as could be laid upon
him, for those many great and insolent Oppressions,
acted with Injustice, Cruelty, and Blood; yet it had been Ll1r 129
been much more to the Queens Honour, if she had given
him a quicker Death, and a more honourable Tryal,
free from these opprobrious and barbarous Disgraces,
which savourd more of a savage, tyrannical disposition,
than a judgment fit to command, or sway the Sword
of Justice.

Though not by Birth, yet by Creation he was a Peer
of the Kingdom, and by the Dignity of his place one
of the most eminent; which might (if not to him in his
particular, yet in the Rights due to Nobility and Greatness)
have found some more honourable a distinction,
than to be made more infamous and contemptible than
The Queens
Cruelty.
the basest Rogue, or most notorious Cutpurse. It is
assuredly (give it what title you will) an argument of a
Villanous Disposition, and a Devilish Nature, to tyrannize
and abuse those wretched ruines which are under
the Mercy of the Law, whose Severity is bitter
enough without aggravation. A Noble Minde doth
out of native Goodness shew a kinde of Sweetness in
the disposition, which, if not the Man, doth pity his
Misfortune; but never doth increase his sorrow by
baser usage than becomes his Justice. In Christian Piety,
which is the Day-star that should direct and guide
all humane Actions, the heart should be as free from all
that’s cruel, as being too remiss in point of Justice.
The Life of Man is all that can be taken; ’tis that must
expiate his worst Offences; the Law must guide the
way; Justice, not Fury, must be his Judge; so far
there is no Errour. But when a flux of Torment follows
Judgment, which may be done in Speech as well
as Action, it gives too many Deaths to one Offender,
and stains the Actors with a foul dishonour. To see
such a Monster so monstrously used, no question pleased
the giddy Multitude, who scarcely know the civil
grounds of Reason: the recollected Judgment that beheld
it, censur’d it was at best too great and deep a
blemish to suit a Queen, a Woman, and a Victor. Ll Whether Ll1v 130
Whether her Imposition, or his patient Suffering were
Spencer hanged.
greater, or became first weary, he now is brought to
give them both an ending, upon a Gallows highly built
of purpose; he now receives the end of all his Torments;
the Cruelty was such, unfit to be recorded.
Whether it were the greatness of his heart, or it were
broken, he leaves the world with such a constant parting,
as seem’d as free from fear, as fruitless plaining.

Arundel the
like.
Four days are scarcely ended, ere Arundel doth taste
the self-same fortune. Until the last Combustion, I
finde no mention in the Story of this Noble Gentleman,
neither could I ever read any just cause why his Life
was thus taken from him, unless it were a Capital Offence
not to forsake his Master: It was then a very
hard case, if it must be adjudged Treason to labour to
defend his King and Soveraign, to whom he had sworn
Faith and Obedience, suffering for preserving that Truth
and Oath, which they had all treacherously broken,
that were his Judges. If it were deemed a fault deep
enough to be taken in company with those that were
corrupt and wicked, I see yet no reason why he alone
should suffer, and those their other Creatures were permitted
many of them unquestion’d, some preferr’d, and
none executed. But we may not properly expect Reason
in Womens actions: It was enough the incensed
Queen would have it so, against which was no disputing.

The Queen
comes to
London.
Her business thus dispatcht, she comes to London,
where she hath all the Royal Entertainment due to her
Greatness. The Citizens do run and crowd to see her,
that if the Wheel should turn, would be as forward to
make the self-same speed to see her ruine. Assoon as
here she had settled her affairs, and made things ready,
She calls a
Parliament.
she calls a Parliament, and sends forth Summons for
the appearance, which as soon ensued; herein she
makes her Husband seal the Warrant, who God knows
scarcely knew what she was doing, but lived a Recluse, well Ll2r 131
well and surely guarded. When this grave Assembly
was come together, the Errours and the Abuses of the
Kingdom are laid full open; which touch’d the King
with a more insolent liberty than might well become
the tongues of those which must yet be his Subjects.
Many ways of Reformation for forms sake are discussed,
but the intended course was fully before resolved; yet
it was fit there should be a handsome Introduction. The
issue at length falls upon the point of Necessity, shewing,
that Edward, by the imbecillity of his judgment, and
the corruption of his nature, was unfit longer to continue
the Government, which was so diseased and sick,
that it required a King more careful and active: as if
the conferring it upon a green Youth, little more than
an Infant, had been Warranty enough for these Allegations;
but they serv’d turn well enough, where all
were agreed; and there was not so much as a just fear
of opposition: It ne’er was toucht or exprest by what
Law, Divine or Humane, the Subject might Depose,
not an Elective King, but one that Lineally and Justly
had inherited, and so long enjoy’d it: this was too
deep a Mystery, and altogether improper for their resolution.
A short time at length brings them all to
one Minde, which in a true construction was no more
than a mere Politick Treason, not more dangerous in
They conclude
to depose
the
King.
the Act than in the Example. The three Estates unâ
voce
conclude the Father must be Deposed, and his unripe
Son must be Invested in the Royal Dignity. Not
a Lord, Bishop, Knight, Judge, or Burgess, but that
day left his Memory behinde him; they could not else
so generally have forgot the Oaths of their Allegiance,
so solemnly sworn to their old Master, whom they had
just cause to restrain from his Errours, but no ground
or colour to deprive him of his Kingdom; who that
day found neither Kinsman, Friend, Servant, or Subject
to defend his Interest. It is probable he could not
be so generally forsaken, and not unlikely but that he had Ll2v 132
had some in this Assembly well-affected, which seeing
the violence and strength of the Current, knew their
contestation might endanger themselves, and not advantage
him in his possession. But this justifies them
not, neither in their Oaths, Love, or Duty, which
should have been sincere and eminent: He that
had here really express’d himself, had left to Posterity
an honourable Memorial of his Faith, Worth, and
Valour. Never will the remembrance of that stout
and reverend Bishop dye; who in the Case of Richard
the Second
exprest himself so honestly and bravely.
Civil respects, though they deeply touch in particular,
warrant not the breach of publick engagements; neither
is it properly Wisdome, but Craft, infringeth the
Laws of Duty or Honesty: If that may be admitted,
what Perjury may not finde an excuse, what Rebellion
not a justifiable answer? But it is clear, there may
not be a wilful violation of Oaths, though it tend
deeply to our own loss and prejudice.

The Resolution being now fully concluded, that must
uncrown this unhappy King, divers of both Houses are
The Speaker
makes a resignation
of
Homage, &
reads the
Sentence.
sent unto him to make the Declaration; who being
come into his presence, Trussel the Speaker of the lower
House
, in the Name of the whole Kingdom, makes a
Resignation of all Homage and Fealty, and then doth
read the Sentence. Edward, that had been aforehand
informed, the better to prepare him, had arm’d himself
with as much Patience, as his Necessity could give
him; with an attentive ear hears all full out; which
The King
answers not
a word.
done, he turns away without answering a word. He
knew it was in vain to spend time in Discourse or
Contestation, which must be the ready way to endanger
his Life; and in his consenting with a dangerous
example to his Successours, he had both their Power
and his own Guilt made evident to Posterity; which
might have made the practice more frequent and familiar.
He had still a kinde of Hope that his Adversaries would Mm1r 137133
would run themselves out of breath, when there would
be both room and time to alter his condition. Thus
this unfortunate King, after he had with a perpetual agitation
governed this Kingdome eighteen years, odde
months and days, lost it partly by his own Disorder and
Improvidence, but principally by the treacherous Infidelity
of his Wife, Servants, and Subjects. And it is
most memorable, an Army of three hundred Strangers
entred his Dominion, and took from him the Rule and
Governance, without so much as blow given, or the
loss of any one man, more than such as perished by the
hand of Justice.

Though in a sinking Greatness all things conspire to
work a fatal ruine, yet in our Story this is the first president
of this nature, or where a King fell with so
little Honour, and so great an Infidelity, that found
neither Sword or Tongue to plead his quarrel. But
what could be expected, when for his own private
Vanities and Passion, he had been a continual lover and
abetter of unjust actions, and had consented to the Oppression
of the whole Kingdom, and the untimely Death
of so many Noble Subjects? It is certainly no less honourable
than just, that the Majesty of a King have
that same full and free use of his Affections, without
Envy or Hatred, which every private man hath in his
œconomick Government: Yet as his Calling is the
greatest, such must his Care be, to square them out by
those same sacred Rules of Equity and Justice; if they
once transcend, or exceed, falling upon an extremity
of Dotage or Indulgence, it then occasions those Errours
that are the certain Predictions of an ensuing
Trouble, which many times proves fatal and dangerous.
Let the Favourite taste the King’s Bounty, not devour
it; let him enjoy his ear, but not ingross it; let him
participate his love, but not enchant it. In the eye of
the Commonwealth if he must be a Moat, let him
not be a Monster. And lastly, if he must practise on Mm the Mm1v 138134
the Subject, let it be with moderation, and not with
rapine. If in either of these there be an excess, which
makes the King a Monarchy to his Will, and the Kingdom
a prey to his Passion, and the world take notice
it be done by the Royal Indulgencie, it begets not more
hatred than multiplicity of errour, which draw with
them dangerous Convulsions, if not a desperate ruine to
that State where it hath his allowance and practice.
As there ought to be a limitation in the Affection of the
one, so ought there to be a Like Curiosity in the quality
of the other: Persons of meaner condition and
birth exalted above proportion, as it taxeth the Kings
Judgment, impaireth both his Safety and Honour.
Neither is it proper, that the principal Strengths and
Dignities should be committed to the care and fidelity
of one man onely; such unworthy and unequal distribution
wins a discontent from the more capable in ability
and blood, and carries with it a kinde of necessary
impulsion still to continue his greatness; else having the
keys of the Kingdom in his hand, he may at all times
open the gates to a domestick Danger, or a forreign Mischief.
The number of Servants is the Masters honour;
their truth and faculties his glory and safety; which
being severally employ’d and countenanced, make it at
one and the self-same time perspicuous in many; and
being indifferently heard, do, both in advice and action,
give a more secure, discreet, and safe form of proceeding.
Kings in their deliberations should be served
with a Council of State, and a Council of particular
Interest and Honour; the one to survey the Policy, the
other the Goodness of all matters in question; both
composed out of Integrity, not Corruption: these
delivering truely their Opinions and Judgments, it is
more easie for him to reconcile and elect: But when
one man alone supplies both these places in private and
publick, all the rest follow the voice of the Drone,
though it be against their own Conscience and Judgment.ment. Mm2r 139135
The Royal Glory should be pure, and yet
transparent, suffering not the least eclipse or shadow;
which appears visibly defective, when it is wholly led
by a single advice never so grave and weighty: let the
projection, if it be entertained, have the teste of a
Council; but let the act and glory be solely the Kings,
which addes to the belief of his ability, and more assures
his greatness. If the heart of Majesty be given over
to the sensuality of Pleasure, or betray’d by his proper
Weakness, or the cunning of him he trusteth; yet let
him not neglect the necessary affairs of a Kingdom, or
pass them over by Bills of Exchange to the providence
of another: In such an act he loseth the Prerogative
of an absolute King, and is but so at second-
hand and by direction. It is the Practique, not the
Theorique of State, that wins and assures the Subject:
If the ability of that be confined or doubtful, it
estrangeth the will of Obedience, and gives a belief
of liberty to the actions of Disorder and Injustice.
Such an Errour is not more prejudicial in the Imbecillity,
than in the Example. Royal Vanities finde a
ready imitation, so that it becomes a hazard that a
careless King makes a dissolute Kingdom. Mans nature
is propensive to the worser part; which it embraceth
with more facility and willingness, when it wins the
advantage of the time, and is led by so eminent a
president. From this consideration, natural Weakness,
or temporary Imperfection, should be always masked,
and never appear in publick, since the Court, State,
and Kingdom, practise generally by his Example. As
in Affection, so in Passion, there are many things equally
considerable. I must confess, and do believe,
that King worthy of an Angelical Title, that could
master these rebellious Monsters, which rob him of his
Peace and Happiness: But this in a true perfection, is
to Flesh and Blood most impossible; yet both in Divinity
and Moral Wisdome, it is the most excellent Master-piecester- Mm2v 140136
of this our peregrination, so to dispose them,
that they wait upon the Operations of the Soul rather as
obedient Servants, than loose and uncontrouled Vagabonds.
Where the Royal Passions are rebellious and masterless,
having so unlimited a Power, his Will becomes
the Law; his hand the executioner of actions unjust and
disorderly, which end sometimes in Blood, commonly in
Oppression, and evermore in a confused perturbation of
the Kingdome. The Warranty of the Law wrought
to his temper, not that it is so, but that he must have it
so, justifies him not, though he make a Legal Proceeding
the justification of his Tyranny; since the Innocency
of the Subject seldome findes protection, where
the fury of a King resolves his ruine. The rigour of
humane Constitutions are to the Delinquent weighty
enough; let them not be wrested or inverted; which
makes the King equally guilty, and the actor of his
own Passions, rather than those of Justice or Integrity.
He should on earth order his proceedings in imitation
after the Divine Nature, which evermore inclines more
to Mercy than Justice. Lives cannot, being taken away,
be redeemed; there ought then to be a tender consideration
how they be taken, lest the Injustice of the
act, challenge a Vengeance of the same nature. As
the quality of the act, so is the condition of the agent
considerable in point of Judicature; wherein there may
be sometimes those dependencies, that it may be more
honourable and advantageous to pardon, or delay execution,
than to advance and hasten it: howsoever, it
is the more excellent and innocent way, to fall short of
the better hand, and to suffer the Severity of the Law
rather seem defective, than an apparent taint in the
suffering disposition and goodness. The actions of Repentance
are registred in the table of our Transgressions,
where none to the guilty Conscience appears more
horrid and fearful, than those which by an inconsiderate
haste or corruption of the Will have been acted in Blood Nn1r 141137
Blood and Passion. So great a height as the Majesty
of a King, should be cloathed with as sweet a temper,
neither too precipitate, or too slow; neither too violent,
or too remiss; but like the beating of a healthy
Pulse, with a steady and well-advised motion, which
preserves a just Obedience and Fear in those which are
vicious, and begets a Love and Admiration in all,
especially such as so graciously taste his Goodness.

I have dwelt too long in this digression; yet I must
(though it a little delay the concluding part of this
History) speak somewhat that is no less proper for him
that shall have the happiness to enjoy so fair and large
a room in the Royal affections. There must be in him
a correspondent worth, as well of Wisdome and Obedience,
as of Sincerity and Truth; which makes no
other use of this so great a blessing, but to his Soveraigns
Honour, and his own credit; and not to advantage
himself by the oppression of others, or improving
the particular by the ruine of a Kingdome. If the Masters
actions be never so pure and innocent, yet if out
of affection he become the Patron of the Servants misdemeanours
and insolencies, by protecting or not punishing,
he makes himself guilty, and shares both in
the grievance and hatred of the poor distressed Subject.
The general cry seeing the stream polluted, ascribe it
to the Fountain-head, where is the Spring that may reform
and cleanse it. By this one particular errour of
Protection, he that will read the History of our own,
or those of Forreign Nations, shall finde a number of
memorable Examples, which have produced Deposition
of Kings, Ruine of Kingdoms, the Effusion of Christian
Blood, and the general Distemper of that part of
the world, all grounded on this occasion. Let him
then that out of his Masters Love, more than his own
Desert, hath made himself a fortune, be precisely careful,
that by his disorder he endanger not the stair and
prop of his Preferment; which he shall make firm and Nn per- Nn1v 142138
permanent, in making Humility and Goodness the Adamant
to draw the love both of his equals and inferiours:
Such a winning Sweetness assures their hearts, which
in the least contempt or insolence are apt and ready to
receive the impressions of Envy and Hatred; which if
they once take root, end not in Speculation, but Actions
either publickly violent, or privately malicious;
both tending to his ruine and confusion. If he stray
from this Principle, striving to make an imperious
height beget fear, and the opinion of that fear the
rock whereon he builds his Greatness; let him then
know, that the first is the Companion of Trust and
Safety, the other a Slave, that will break loose with
opportunity and advantage. Neither hath it any touch
of Discretion, or Society with Wisdome, or Moral
Policy, to glorifie his new-acquired Greatness with unnecessary
amplifications, either in multiplicity of Attendants,
vanity of Apparel, superfluity of Diet, sumptuousness
of Structures, or any other ridiculous eminency,
that may demonstrate his Pride or Ambition:
Wise men deride it, Fools applaud it, his Equals envy
it, and his Inferiours hate it. All jumping at length
in one conclusion, that his Fortune is above his Merit,
and his Pride much greater than his Worth and Judgment.
But this presuming Impudence ends not here:
Kings themselves may suffer for a time, but in the end
they will rather change their Affections, than to be
dazled and outshin’d in their own Sphere and Element.

The young
King crowned.
Now is this young King Crowned with a great deal
of Triumphant Honour, but with a more expectation of
what would become of this giddy world, which seem’d
to run upon wheels, by reason of so sudden and so
The Queen
and Mortimer
bear
sway.
great a revolution. The Queen and Mortimer in this
his Minority take upon them the whole Sway and Government
of the Kingdome. The Act wherein they
express’d themselves and their new Authority first, was
the Commitment of Baldock, the quondam Lord Chancellor,cellor, Nn2r 143139
They commit
Baldock
to Newgate.
who hath the Great Seal taken from him, and
was sent to Newgate. It may be wonder’d why he was
so long spared; they had use of his Place, though not
of his Person; and had no Power, if they had thrust
him out, to have brought in another, or to have executed
it by Commission, unless they would admit it as
an act of the old King, until the new were Crowned.
This Cage was fit for such a Coysterel; but yet his
place being so eminent, it was believed somewhat unworthy;
Tresilian
Lord Chief-
Justice hanged.
yet succeeding time made it not much out of
square, when Trisilian Lord Chief Justice was hang’d,
for interpreting the Law against Law and his own Conscience,
for the Kings advantage. Now the recollected
spirits begin to parallel time present with that precedent,
and to meditate upon that act which had disrobed and
put down an anointed King, that had so long sway’d
the Scepter, to whom they had so solemnly sworn Faith
and Obedience: They finde the State little altered,
onely things are thought more handsomly carried, and
the Actors were somewhat more warrantable; yet the
Multitude, according to the vanity of their changeable
hearts, begin already to be crop-sick, wishing for their
old Master, and ready to attempt any new Innovation:
such is the mutability of the inconstant Vulgar, desirous
of new things, but never contented; despising the time
being, extolling that of their Forefathers, and ready to
act any mischief to try by alteration the succedent; like
Æsops Frogs, if they might have their own fancy, each
Week should give them a new King, though it were
to their own destruction. This occasions many unpleasing
Petitions and Suits tender’d to the new King and
his Protectors, for the releasement of Edward’s Imprisonment,
or at least for more freedom, or a more
noble usage. But these touch too near the quick, to
beget a sudden answer. As things stood, they neither
grant nor deny, either of them carrying with it so
dangerous a hazard: If he were free, they must shake hands Nn2v 144140
hands with their greatness; and a flat denial would
have endanger’d a sudden tumult. They give good
words, and promise more than ever they meant to perform,
yielding many reasons why they could not yet
give a definitive resolution; this for the present satisfies.

The black
Monks impatient
of
the King’s
restraint.
The black Monks are more importunate, and take
not this delay for an answer; but being still adjourn’d
over with protraction, they labour to bring that about
by Conspiracy, which they could not do by Intreaty:
in their publick Exhortations they inveigh against the
severity of the King’s usage, and invite their Auditory
to set to a helping hand to the procurement of his
Freedom; they extenuate his Faults, and transfer them
to them that had the guidance of his affairs, and not to
his own natural Disposition; they tax the impropriety
of the time, when the Kingdom was under the Government
of a Child and a Woman; and spare no point
that might advance compassion for the one, or procure
They not
only incite
the people,
but make
Donhead
their Captain;
a dislike of the other. Neither are they content with
a verbal incitation, but fall to matter of fact, that others
might move by their example: They make one
of their number, named Donhead, their Captain; a
good, stout, bold, and factious Fellow; one that was
daring enough, but knew better what belong’d to
Church-Ornaments, than the handsome carriage of a
Conspiracy, that was to be managed by Armes, and
Who is
clapt by the
heels, and
dies.
not by the liberty of the Tongue; whose liberality
claps him by the heels, where he not long after dyes,
before he had so much as muster’d his Covent.

This gathering Cloud thus dispers’d without a
shower, the Queen and Mortimer, to take off the people
from harping farther upon this string, send forth
divers plausible Proclamations, intimating a strict charge
for the reformation of divers petty Grievances; and
withal are divulged sundry probabilities of Forreign
dangers from France and Scotland: which were presentlysently Oo1r 145141
understood to be but mere fictions, in respect at
the same instant she frees herself of her forreign Aid,
which in such an occasion might have as well served to
defend the Kingdome, as to invade it. They made,
it is true, an earnest suit to be gone, having well
feather’d their nests; but if the fear had been such as
was bruited, I think the Queen both might and would
have retain’d them. It may be their addiction to Arms
was weary of so long a Vacation, or they were desirous
to shew themselves at home with honour, whence
they had parted with so poor an expectation; and peradventure
she was unwilling they should be witness of
that unnatural Tragedy, which she saw then broyling
in Mortimer’s breast, though not resolved on; which
must have wounded her reputation in that Climate,
where she had won so great a belief of her Wisdome,
Vertue, and Goodness. Liberally and nobly she requites
every man, according to his Merit and Condition;
Sir John of
Heynault

and the rest
rewarded.
but to Sir John of Heynault, whose Heroick Spirit
gave the first life to this action; and to the Oracle of
her recovery, and all those of the better sort, she presents
many rich Jewels, and Annuities of yearly Revenue,
according to the quality of the time in being.
They depart
the
Kingdom.
They hold themselves Royally requited; and taking a
solemn leave, are honourably accompanied to Dover,
where they take their Farwel of the Kingdom, with a
much merrier eye than when they first beheld it.

Whoso shall wisely consider the desperate attempt of
this little handful of Adventurers, and their fortunate
issue, may justly esteem it one of the most memorable
Passages of our time, since it was merely guided by pity
and compassion; without pay, without provision, to
attempt an act not more dangerous than hopeless; yet
they gave it perfection, without so much as the loss of
any one man; and returned home glorious in honour,
rich in purchase; not gained by pillage, robbery, or unjust
rapine (the hope and revenue of a War;) but by Oo the Oo1v 146142
the just reward due to their Valour and Vertue. The
cause of so fair a progression, and so successful an end,
may have divers probabilities likely enough to ground
our judgment; As the sincerity of the Intention, the
goodness of the Work, and many other, which may
be alledged: but the most essential may be drawn from
this; they were (though but a small one) yet an entire
body, composed of such as knew what appertain’d to
Arms and Breeding; Men that were vertuously inclin’d,
and aw’d with the true sense of Religion (in the
Wars of late years become a mere stranger) where no
Victory is esteem’d dishonourable, no Purchase unlawful.
Certainly our Wars and our Plantations nearly
resemble, being both used as a Broom to sweep the
Kingdome, rather than an enterprize to adorn it; which
makes the event so unfortuante in War; which alone
falls properly within the compass of this Treatie, it
being the greatest and most weighty work, that either
gives honour or safety to a Kingdom: They should be
begun with Justice, and managed as well with Wisdome
as Valour; their beginning should be with a
choice care, which makes the ending fortunate. The
number of bodies is not the Strength, their fury not the
Bulwork; it is the Piety and true Valour of an Army,
which gives them Heart and Victory; which how it can
be expected out of Ruffians and Goal-birds, that are
the scum of the Commonwealth, I leave to your consideration.
I commend his Curiosity, that would
not buy a piece of Plate stoln from Orphans, though
he might have had it at an under-value, lawfully enough;
but more his reason, which would not commix
it with his own, for fear lest it might occasion a punishment
upon his which were innocent, and not toucht
with a Guilt that might in Justice challenge Vengeance.
But in the Military Practice it is believed, so a man
have shape and limbs, ’tis no matter though he have
murder’d his own Father, or committed Incest with his Mother; Oo2r 147143
Mother; it is his metal, not his conditions, gives him
admittance: Hence spring Treachery, that forsakes his
Colours; Treason, that betrays the Captain; and at the
best, those actions of Bloud and Murder, that cry rather
for Vengeance, than promise Victory. A General,
it is true, that hath his Army made to his hand, cannot
distinguish their conditions; the first act is the errour of
those entrusted; yet if he in the knowledge continue,
and not punish the practice of so barbarous actions,
though it be against an enemy, it must wound his Honour,
and endanger his Safety, liable to the accompt
of those transgressions, which are acted by those that
are under his charge without a just punishment. It is
an Observation remarkable, that a Press coming into
the Country, there is a great deal of shift made in every
Town and Village to lay hold of all the most notorious
debauch’d Rascals, to fill up the number; these
clear the Coast, and are believed fit Champions to fight
for their Sovereigns Honour, and the Kingdoms Safety;
and the rather, because in want of Pay (the ruine of an
Army) they are best able to live by their Trade. But
what follows? They are either led to the Slaughter, or
by the Divine Justice prove the ruine of the Enterprise;
or returning, practise private Villanies with more confidence;
or publick Mutinies, under pretence of want of
Wages.

The King
taken from
the Earl of
Lancaster
, &
delivered to
Sir Morrice
Berkley
and
Sir John
Matravas
.
But I will leave them to a reformation, and proceed
to the Tragedy of this unfortunate King, who is now
taken from the Earl of Lancaster, and delivered over by
Indenture to Sir Morrice Berkley and Sir John Matravas.
They lead him back to the Cage of his first Imprisonment;
carrying him closely, and with a reserved Secrecy,
lest his Friends in the knowledge of his Remove
They remove
him
in disguise.
might attempt his Freedome. And to make his Discovery
more difficult, they disfigure him, by cutting
off his Hair, and shaving of his Beard. Edward, that
had been formerly honourably used, and tenderly served,ved, Oo2v 148144
The King
grieved
with Indignities.
is bitterly grieved with this Indignity; and one
day among the rest, when they came to shave him,
which was attempted without fire, and a cold liquor,
his eyes pour forth a stream of Tears in sense of his
Misfortune, which to the inquisitive Actors gives this
answer, “He would have some warm water, in spight of all
their malice.”
Another time, in the presence of two or
three of those that were as well set to be Spies over
him, as to guard him, in a deep Melancholy Passion
His Complaint.
he thus discours’d his Sorrow. “Is mine offence” (quoth
he) so great and grievous, that it deserves nor pity nor
assistance? Is Christian Charity, all Goodness lost; and
nothing left in Subject, Child, or Servant, that tastes of
Duty? Is Wedlock-love forgotten so fully, all at once
forsake me? Admit my errours fit for reformation; I will
not justifie my self, or censure others: Is’t not enough that
it hath taken from me my Crown, the Glory of my former
being, but it must leave me void of native comfort? I yet
remain a Father, and a Husband; a Soveraign and a Master
lost, cannot deprive me of that which is mine own, till
Death dissolve me: Where then is filial Love? Where
that Affection that waits upon the Laws of God and Nature?
My wretched Cares have not so much transform’d
me, that I am turn’d to Basilisk, or Monster. What can
they fear, that they refuse to see me? unless they doubt
mine eyes can dart destruction. I have no other Weapons
that may fright them; and these (God wot) have only
tears to drown them. Can they believe or once suspect a
danger in visit of a poor distressed Captive? Their hardned
hearts I know are not so noble, or apt to take a gentler
milde impression, by seeing these poor ruines thus forsaken;
What then occasions this so great a strangeness, or makes
them jealous of so poor a venture? Are they not yet content
in the possession of all that once was mine, now theirs?
But by what title, their Arms can better tell, than can
their Conscience. My misled harmless Children are not
guilty; my Wife betrays them, and false Mortimer; who else Pp1r 149145
else I know would run to see their Father. Justly I pay
the price of former folly, that let him scape to work mine
own confusion: Had he had his desert, the price of Treason,
he had not liv’d to work me this dishonour. But
time will come my wrongs will be revenged, when he shall
fall with his own weight unpitied. Thou wretched state
of Greatneß, painted Glory, that falling findst thine own
the most perfidious; must thou still live, and yet not worthy
of one poor look? It is a meer Injustice: Would they would
take my Life, ’tis that they aim at. I will esteem it as an
act of pity, that, as I live, but hate mine own Condition.”

Here with a deep sigh of scalding Passions, his tears
break loose afresh, to cool their fury. All sadly silent
while he rests perplexed, a stander by makes this uncivil
answer, whom Mortimer had placed to increase his
sorrow. The King
is uncivilly
upbraided.
“Most gracious Sir, the Queen your Wife, and
Children, are justly jealous of your cruel nature; they know
too well your heat and former fury, to come too near so great
and sure a danger; besides, they are assur’d that your intentions
are bent to work them hurt, or some foul mischief,
if they adventure to approach your presence.”

His Answer.

“The Queen my Wife” (quoth he) “hath she that Title,
while I that made her so am less than nothing? Alas poor
wretched woman, can her invention, apt for mischief,
fashion no one excuse but this so void of reason? Is there
a possibility in her Suspition? Can I, being so resolved,
act a Murder, or can their false hearts dream me so ill-
minded? I am, thou seest, a poor forsaken Prisoner, as
far from such a Power, as Will to act it; they too well
know it, to suspect my nature. But let them wonder on,
and scorn my sorrow; I must endure, and they will taste
their errour. But fellow, thou that tak’st such sawcy
boldneß to character and speak thy Sovereigns errours,
which thou shouldst cover, not presume to question; Know,
Edward’s heart is as free from thine aspersions, as thou or
they from Truth or Moral Goodneß.”
When he had ended
these words, he retires himself to his Chamber, sad and Pp melan- Pp1v 150146
melancholy; thinking his Case was hard and desperate,
when such a paultry Groom durst so affront him.

The Queen and Mortimer revelling in the height of
their Ambition, had yet a wary eye to the main, which
they knew principally consisted in the sure keeping of
their Prisoner. They see their plausible income was
but dully continued, there being a whispering murmur
not so closely mutter’d, but that it came to their ears,
which shew’d an absolute dislike of the manner of their
The Queen
and Mortimer
unquiet
still.
proceedings: Though they had all the marks and essential
parts of Sovereignty, the name alone excepted, yet
they had unquiet and troubled thoughts: What they
wish’d they had obtain’d, yet there was still something
wanting to give it perfection. Such is the vanity of
our imagination, which fashions out a period to our desires,
that being obtain’d, are yet as loose and restless.
Ambition hath no end, but still goes upward, never
content or fully satisfied. If man had all that Earth
could give, and were sole Monarch of the world, he
yet would farther; and as the Giants did make War
with Heaven, rather than lose those Symptomes of his
Nature. Fear to preserve what is unjustly gotten, doth
give the new-made great one agitation, which something
limits his immense affections, that do believe he
must still mount up higher, and else would swallow all
within his compass. This made this pair stop here
a while, to strengthen and more assure what was already
gotten: They know the people giddy, false, inconstant;
a feather wagg’d would blow them to commotion.
They see the Lords, that were their prime
Supporters, seeming content, in heart not satisfied; the
bough was lopt that shadow’d ore their greatness; another
was sprung up as large and fearful; which though
more noble, yet no less aspiring. The drooping tongue
of the dejected Kingdom doth grumble out his expectations
cozen’d.

The Grievance still continues great and heavy, not chang’d Pp2r 151147
chang’d in substance, but alone in habit; a just compassion
aggravates the clamour, to see their former
King so hardly used, short of his Honour, Merit, Birth,
Mortimer’s
ears tingle.
and Calling. These passages related, tingled the ears
of our great Mortimer; he knew that all was now at
stake, which unprevented must hurl them back again
with worse conditions. No longer can he mince his
He tells the
Queen, the
King must
die.
own Conceptions, but plainly tells the Queen the cause
must perish, Edward must dye; this is the only refuge
must make all sure, and cleanse this sad suspicion; so
long as he remain’d, their fear continues, as would the
hope of them attempt their ruine. The Warranty of
Arms had a fair colour; that should be levied to attempt
his rescue, which had a Royal stamp to raise and
make them current. If such a Project should be once
in action, it would be then too late to seek to cross it.
All men are apt to pity so great a King oppressed; and
not so much look on what he had been, as what he is,
and being restor’d he might be.

She seems
discontented.
The Queen, whose heart was yet believed innocent
of such foul Murther, is, or at least seems, highly discontented;
She acknowledges his present Sufferings greater
than his Offences, or might become the King, her Lord
and Husband; and holds this act of too too foul Injustice,
which stiles her Son a Homicide, and her a
Monster: The crimson Guilt of such a crying action
could not escape the cruel hand of Vengeance: If it
might be concealed from humane Knowledge, the Allknowing
Power of Heaven would lay it open. She
thinks it more than an act of Bloud, to kill a Husband,
and a King, that sometimes loved her: She thinks her
Son not of so ill a nature, as to slip o’re his Fathers
Death untouch’d, unpunish’d, when that he was grown
up in power to sift it. These motives made her thus
return her Answer.

She returns
her Answer.
“Let us resolve (dear Friend) to run all hazards, rather
than this that is so foul and cruel; let us not stain our Souls Pp2v 152148
Souls with Royal Bloud and Murder, which seldome scapes
unseen, but never unpunish’d, especially for such a fear as
is but casual: while we are innocent, at worst our danger
is but privation of this glorious shadow, which Death can
take, when we believe it surest; but if we taint the inward
part with such a tincture, our proper Guilt will
bring continual terrour, a fear that never dyes, but lives
still dying. If Edward do get loose, what need we fear
him, that pull’d him down when he was great, at highest?
Why should we then resolve his Death or Murder? this
Help may serve when we are desperate of other Remedies,
which yet appears not. To act so great a sin without compulsion,
addes to the deed, and makes it far more odious;
nor can it plead excuse if after question’d, that hath no
cause but merely Supposition. Say that he were a dead
man, gone and hopeless, neither our fears or dangers are
more lessen’d; we are still subject to the self same hazard,
and have to boot our proper Guilt to cause it. Those that
do hate or envy us, can fashion other pretexts, as fair as
this, to shake us; which we shall better crush, while we
are guiltless. Then think upon some other course as sure,
more harmless; ne’re can my heart consent to kill my Husband.”

Mortimer
nettled.
Mortimer being nettled with this Reply, so far wide
of the aim which in his bloudy thoughts he had so
constantly resolved on, thought he would return the
Queen as bitter a Pill, as she had given him to bite on;
which makes him thus reply in anger.

His Reply. “Madam, who hath the time to friend, and doth neglect
it, is justly falling scorn’d, and sinks unpitied. Have you
for this endur’d so bitter tryals, to be at length a foe to
your own safety? Did you outrun your Troubles, suffering
meanly, but to return unto your first condition? If it be
so, I must approve your Reasons, and say your grounds
were like your project, hopeful; You see your glorious Morning
now turn’d cloudy; the Kingdom doth repine to see our
Greatneß, yet have no hope but in the King deposed; who taken Qq1r 153149
taken away, what fear can justly move us? Your youthful
Son we’ll rule till he grows older, and in that time establish
such a Greatness, as he shall hardly touch or dare to
question. To cast a world of doubts is vain and senseleß,
where we enforc’d must either act or perish; and to be nice
in that hath no election, doth waste out time, and not prevent
the errour: If you stick fast in this your tender pity,
I must in justice then accuse my fortune, that gave my heart
to such a female Weakness. Is there a disproportion in
this action, to keep the Crown with bloud, that was so
gotten? Is there a more restraint to keep than get by Treason?
If so, I yield, and will sit still and ruine. Had Edward
known or fear’d, he had prevented, nor you nor I had
had the Power to hurt him: But he neglected time, and now
repents it; and so must we, if we embrace his errour. Fear
is far less in sense than apparition, and makes the shadow
greater than the subject, which makes a faintness as the
Fancy leads it, where is small reason to be so affected. You
urge it cannot be concealed or hidden. I not deny but it
may be discovered; such deeds may yet be so contrived and
acted, that they prevent all proof, if not suspicion. But
why do I spend time in this perswasion? let him get free,
whom we so much have wronged, let him examine our proceedings,
sift our actions, perhaps he will forget, forgive,
be reeconciled: and spare your tears, lest that your mighty
Brother should chance grow angry: if you lose your Greatneß,
you may if you be pleased abide the tryal. Mortimer’s
resolv’d, since you refuse his judgment, you neither prize
his safety, nor his service; and therefore he will seek some
other refuge before it be too late, and too far hopeleß.”

Mortimer
flings away.
With this he flings away in discontentment, as if he
meant with speed to quit the Kingdom. The amazed
Queen pursues and overtakes him, who seem’d unwilling The Queens
expostulation.

to prolong the treaty: “Stay, gentle Mortimer”,
(quoth she) “I am a Woman, fitter to hear and take advice,
than give it; think not I prize thee in so mean a
fashion, as to despise thy Safety or thy Council. Must EdwardQq ward Qq1v 154150
dye, and is there no prevention? Oh wretched state
of Greatneß, frail Condition, that is preserv’d by Bloud,
She unwillingly
consents
to the
Kings
Death.
secur’d by Murder! I dare not say I yield, or yet deny it;
Shame stops the one, the other Fear forbiddeth: only I beg
I be not made partaker, or privy to the time, the means,
the manner.”
With this she weeps, and fain would have
recanted, but she saw in that course a double danger.

Mortimer, that had now what he lookt for, assures
her he would undergo the act and hazard; which
would not have moved, if not inforced by those strong
motives of their certain danger. He requests alone the
The Kings
Keepers
changed.
King might seal a Warrant, that he may change anew
his former Keepers. Sir Morice Barcklaye, as it seems,
had been aloof off treated with, but was not pliable,
or apt to fasten; he was both careful of his Charge,
and Masters Safety; this takes him suddenly from his
custody. Sir Thomas Towurlie supplies his place, with
his old partner; they having received their new Warrant,
He is removed
to
Corf Castle.
and their Royal Prisoner, carry him by sudden
and hasty Journeys to Cork-Castle, the place that in all
the world he most hated. Some say that he was foretold
by a certain Magician, who as it seems was his Craftsmaster,
that this place was to him both fatal and ominous.
’Twas ill in him to seek by such ill and unlawful
means the knowledge of that, which being known did
but augment his sorrow. Whatsoever the cause was,
his arrival here makes him deeply heavy, sad and melancholy:
his Keepers, to repel this humour, and to
take him off from all fear and suspicion, feed him with
new hopes and pleasant discourse, improving his former
entertainment both in his Diet and Attendance; while
his misgiving spirit suspects the issue: Though he would
fain have fashion’d his belief to give them credit, yet
he had such a dull cloud about his heart, it could receive
no comfort.

The fatal Night in which he suffer’d shipwrack, he
eats a hearty Supper, but stays not to digest it; immediatelydiately Qq2r 155151
he goes to Bed, with sorrow heavy; assoon he
takes his Rest, and sleeps securely, not dreaming of his
end so near approaching. Midnight the Patron of this
horrid Murder being newly come, this Crew of perjur’d
He is murdered.
Traitors steal softly to his Chamber, finding him
in a sweet and quiet Sleep, taking away his Life in that
advantage.

The Historians of these Times differ both in the
time, place, and manner of his Death; yet all agree,
that he was foully and inhumanly murther’d, yet so,
that there was no visible or apparent signe which way
’twas acted. A small tract of time discovers the Actors,
and shews evidently that it was done by an extremity
of Violence: they long escape not: though Mortimer’s
greatness for the present time keep them both from
question and punishment, yet by the Divine Justice they
all meet with a miserable and unpitied Death; and the
Master-wo