Let Spain, let France, or Scotland so prefer Their infant queens for England's dowager,' That blood should be much more than half divine, That should be equal ev'ry way with thine : Yet, princely Edward, though I thus reprove you, As mine own life so dearly do I love you.

My noble husband, which so loved you,
That gentle lord, that reverend Mountague,
Ne'er mother's voice did please her babe so well,
As his did mine, of you to hear him tell:

1 have made short the hours that time made long,
And chain'd mine ears to his most pleasing tongue:
My lips have waited on your praise's worth,
And snatcht his words, ere he could get them forth:
When he had spoke, and something by the way
Hath broke off that he was about to say,
I kept in mind where from his tale he fell,
Calling on him the residue to tell.
Oft he would say,
"How sweet a prince is be!"
When I have prais'd him but for praising thee;
And to proceed, I would entreat and woo,
And yet to ease him, help to praise thee too.

And must she now exclaim against the wrong
Offer'd by him, whom she hath lov'd so long?
Nay, I will tell, and I durst almost swear,
Edward will blush, when he his fault shall hear.
Judge now, that time doth youth's desire asswage,
And reason mildly quench the fire of rage;
By upright justice let my cause be try'd,
And be thou judge, if I not justly chide.
(2) That not my father's grave and reverend years,
When on his knee he begg'd me with his tears,
By no persuasions possibly could win,

[deny'd,

To free himself from prompting me to sin;
The woe for me my mother did abide,
Whose suit (but you) there's none could have
Your lustful rage, your tyranny could stay,
Mine honour's rain further to delay.
Have I not lov'd you? let the truth be shown,
That still preserv'd your honour with mine own.
Had your fond will, your foul desires prevail'd,
When you by them my chastity assail'd;
(Though this no way could have excus'd my fault,
"True virtue never yielded to assault :")
Besides, the ill of you that had been said,
My parents sin had to your charge been laid;
(') And I have gain'd my liberty with shame,
To save my life, made shipwrack of my name.

Did Roxborough once vail her tow'ring fanes
To thy brave ensigns on the northern plains?
And thy trumpets sounding from thy tent,
Mine oft again thee hearty welcome sent,
And did recive thee as my sovereign liege,
Coming to aid me, thus me to besiege,
To raise a foe that but for treasure came,
To plant a foe to take my honest name;
Under pretence to have remov'd the Scot, [got?
And would'st have won more than he could have
That did ingirt me, ready still to fly,
But thou laid'st battery to my chastity:
O modesty, didst thou not me restrain,
How could I chide you in this angry vein !

A prince's name (Heav'n knows) I do not crave, To have those honours Edward's spouse shall have; Nor by ambitious lures will I be brought, In my chaste breast to harbour sach a thought, As to be worthy to be made a bride, A piece unfit for princely Edward's side; Of all, the most unworthy of that grace,

To wait on her that should enjoy that place:

The two husbands of which she makes mention, objecting bigamy against herself, as being therefore not meet to be married with a batchelor prince, were sir Thomas Holland, knight, and sir. William Mountague, afterwards made earl of Salisbury.

(2) That not my father's grave and reverend years.

A thing incredible, that any prince should be so unjust, to use the father's means for the corruption of the daughter's chastity, though so the history importeth, her father being so honourable, and a man of so singular desert: though Polydore would have her thought to be Jane, the daughter of Edmond earl of Kent, uncle to Edward the third, beheaded in the protectorship of Mortimer, that dangerous aspirer.

(3) And I have gain'd my liberty with shame.

Roxborough is a castle in the north, mis-termed by Bandello Salisbury castle, because the king had given it to the earl of Salisbury; in which, her lord being absent, the countess by the Scots was besieged who, by the coming of the English army, were removed. Here first the prince saw her, whose liberty had been gained by her shame, had she been drawn by dishonest love to satisfy his appetite but by her most praise-worthy constancy she converted that humour in him to an honourable purpose, and obtained the true reward of her admired virtue.

(4) The rest unto your princely thoughts I leave.

Lest any thing be left out which were worth the relation, it shall not be impertinent to annex the opinions that are uttered concerning her, whose name is said to have been lips: but that being rejected, as a name unknown among us, Froisard is rather believed, who calleth her Alice. Polydore contrariwise, as before is declared, names her Jane, who by prince Edward had issue, Edward dying young, and Richard the second king of England, though (as he saith) she was divorced afterwards, because within the degrees of consanguinity prohibiting to marry. The truth whereof I omit to discuss. Her husband, the lord Mountague, being sent over into Flanders by king Edward, was taken prisoner by the French, and not returning, left his countess a widow: in whose bed succeeded prince Edward; to whose last and lawful request, the rejoiceful lady sends this loving

answer.

QUEEN ISABEL TO KING RICHARD II,

THE ARGUMENT.

Richard the Second, wrongfully depos'd'

By Henry duke of Hertford, and enclos'd

In Fomfret castle; Isabel the queen,
To the neglected king; who having seen
His dis-investing, and disastrous chance,
To Charles her father ship'd again for France,
(Where for her husband griev'd and discontent)
Thence this epistle to king Richard sent,
By which when he her sorrow doth descry,
He to the same as sadly doth reply.

As doth the yearly augure of the spring,
In depth of woe thus I my sorrow sing;
My tunes with sighs yet ever mixt among,
A doleful burthen to a heavy song:
Words issue forth, to find my grief, some way,
Tears overtake them, and do bid them stay;
Thus whilst one strives to keep the other back,
Both once too forward, soon are both too slack.
'(') If fatal Pomfret hath in former time
Nourish'd the grief of that unnatural crime,
Thither I send my sorrows to be fed ;
Than where first born, where fitter to be bred?
They unto France be aliens and unknown,
England from her doth challenge these her own.
They say, all mischief cometh from the north;
It is too true, my fall doth set it forth;
But why should I thus limit grief a place,
When all the world is fill'd with our disgrace?
And we in bonds thus striving to contain it,
The more resists, the more we do restrain it.

(2) Oh, how even yet I hate these wretched eyes,
And in my glass oft call them faithless spies!
(Prepar'd for Richard) that unwares did look
Upon that traitor Henry Bullenbrook :
But that excess of joy my sense bereav'd
So much, my sight had never been deceiv'd.
Oh, how unlike to my lov'd lord was he,
Whom rashly I (sweet Richard) took for thee!
I might have seen, the courser's self did lack
That princely rider to bestride his back;
He that since Nature her great work began,
She only made the mirror of a man,

That when she meant to form some matchless limb,
Still for a pattern took some part of him,
And jealous of her cunning, brake the mould,
When she in him had done the best she could.

Oh, let that day be guilty of all sin

That is to come, or heretofore hath been, [stay'd,
() Wherein great Norfolk's forward course was
To prove the treasons he to Hertford lay'd,
When (with stern fury) both these dukes enrag'd,
Their warlike gloves at Canterbury engag'd,
When first thou didst repeal thy former grant,
Seal'd to brave Mowbray as thy combatant!
From his unnumber'd hours let Time divide it,
Lest in his minutes he should hap to hide it;
Yet on his brow continually to bear it,

That when it comes, all other hours may fear it,
And all ill-boding planets, by consent,
In it may hold their dreadful parliament :
Be it in Heav'n's decrees enrolled thus,
Black, dismal, fatal, inauspicious.
Proud Hertford then in height of all his pride,
Under great Mowbray's valiant hand had dy'd ;
And never had from banishment retir'd,
The fatal brand wherewith our Troy was fir'd.
(') Oh! why did Charles relieve his needy state?
A vagabond and straggling runnagate;
And in his court with grace did entertain
That vagrant exile, that vile bloody Cain,

Who with a thousand mothers curses went, Mark'd with the brand of ten years banishment?

(5) When thou to Ireland took'st thy last fare-
Millions of knees upon the pavements fell, [well,
And ev'ry where th' applauding echoes ring
The joyful shouts that did salute a king.
Thy parting hence, the pomp that did adorn,
Was vanquish'd quite when as thou didst return;
Who to my lord one look vouchsaf'd to lend?
Then, all too few on Hertford to attend.
"Princes (like suus) be evermore in sight,
All see the clouds betwixt them and their light:
Yet they which lighten all down from their skies,
See not the clouds offending others' eyes,
And deem their noon-tide is desir'd of all,
When all expect clear changes by their fall."
What colour seems to shadow Hertford's claim,
When law and right his father's hopes do maim?
(*) Affirm'd by churchmen (which should bear
That John of Gaunt was illegitimate; [no hate)
Whom his reputed mother's tongue did spot,
By a base Flemish boor to be begot :
Whom Edward's eaglets mortally did shun,
Daring with them to gaze against the Sun:
Where lawful right and conquest doth allow
A triple crown on Richard's princely brow;
Three kingly lions bears his bloody field, [shield:
(7) No bastard's mark doth blot his conqu'ring
Never durst he attempt our hapless shore,
Nor set his foot on fatal Ravenspore;
Nor durst his slugging hulks approach the strand,
Nor stoop a top as signal to the land,
Had not the Percies promis'd aid to bring,
Against their oath unto their lawful king,
() Against their faith unto our crown's true heir,
Their valiant kinsman Edmond Mortimer.

When I to England came, a world of eyes,
Like stars, attended on my fair arise,
Which now (alas!) like angry planets frown,
And are all set, before my going down.
The smooth-fac'd air did on my coming smile,
But I with storms am driven to exile:
But Bullenbrook devis'd we thus should part,
Fearing two sorrows should possess one heart,
To add to our affliction. to deny

That one poor comfort left our misery.
He had before divorc'd thy crown and thee,
Which might suffice, and not to widow me;
But so to prove the utmost of his hate,
To part us in this miserable state.

(2) Oh, would Aumerle had sunk, when he betray'd
The plot, which once that noble abbot laid!
When he infring'd the oath which he first took,
For thy revenge on perjur'd Bullenbrook,
And been the ransom of our friends dear blood,
Untimely lost, and for the Earth too good!
And we untimely do bewail their state,
They gone too soon, and we remain too late!

And though with tears I from my lord depart,
This curse on Hertford fall, tó case my heart:
If the foul breach of a chaste nuptial bed
May bring a curse, my curse light on his head:
If murther's guilt with blood may deeply stain,
(10) Green, Scroop, and Busbie dye his fault in
If perjury may Heaven's pure gates debar, [grain;
(") Damn'd be the oath he made at Doncaster:
If the deposing of a lawful king,

Thy curse condemn him, if no other thing:
If these dis-join'd, for vengeance cannot call,
Let them united strongly curse him all.

And for the Percies Heav'n may hear my pray'r,
That Bullenbrook, now plac'd in Richard's chair,
Such cause of woe to their proud wives may be,
As those rebellious lords have been to me!
And that coy dame, which now controlleth all,
And in her pomp triumpheth in my fall,
For her great lord may water her sad eyne,
With as salt tears, as I have done for mine:
(12) And mourn for Henry Hotspur her dear son,
As I for my dear Mortimer have done;
And as I am, so succourless be sent,
Lastly to taste perpetual banishment!

Then lose thy care, when first thy crown was lost,
Sell it so dearly, for it dearly cost:
And sith it did of liberty deprive thee,
Burying thy hope, let nothing else out-live thee.
But hard (God knows) with sorrow doth it go,
When woe becomes a comforter to woe:
Yet much (methinks) of comfort I could say,
If from my heart some fears were rid away;
Something there is, that danger still doth show,
But what it is, that Heaven alone doth know.
"Grief to itself most dreadful doth appear,
And never yet was sorrow void of fear;"
But yet in death doth sorrow hope the best,
And, Richard, thus I wish thee happy rest.

ANNOTATIONS OF THE CHRONICLE History. (1) If fatal Pomfret hath in former time, Pomfret castle, ever a fatal place to the princes of England, and most ominous to the blood of Plantagenet.

(2) Oh, how even yet I hate these wretched eyes, And in my glass, &c.

When Bullenbrook returned to London from the West, bringing Richard a prisoner, with him; the queen, who little knew of her husband's hard success, stayed to behold his coming in, little thinking to have seen her husband thus led in triumph by his foe: and now seemed to hate her eyes, that so much had graced her mortal enemy.

(3) Wherein great Norfolk's forward course was staid.

She remembreth the meeting of the two dukes of Hertford and Norfolk at Coventry, urging the justness of Mowbray's quarrel against the duke of Hertford, and the faithful assurance of his victory.

(4) Oh! why did Charles relieve his needy state? A vagabond, &c.'

Charles the French king, her father, received the duke of Hertford into his court, and relieved him in France, being so nearly allied as cousin german to king Richard his son-in-law; which he did simply, little thinking that he should after return into England, and dispossess king Richard of the crown.

(") When thou to Ireland took'st thy last farewel. King Richard made a voyage with his army into Ireland against Onel, and Mackmur, who rebelled: at what time Henry entred here at home and robbed him of all kingly dignity.

(6) Affirm'd by churchmen (which should bear That John of Gaunt was illegitimate. [no hate) William Wickam in the great quarrel betwixt

John of Gaunt and the clergy, of meer spite and malice (as it should seem) reported, that the queen confessed to him on her death-bed, being then her confessor, that John of Gaunt was the son of a Fleming, and that she was brought to bed of a woman-child at Gaunt, which was smothered in the cradle by mischance, and that she obtained this child of a poor woman, making the king believe it was her own, greatly fearing his displeasure. Fox ex Chron. Alban.

() No bastard's mark doth blot his conqu’ring shield.

Showing the true and indubitate birth of Richard, his right unto the crown of England, as carrying the arms without blot or difference.

(*) Against their faith unto the crown's true heir, Their valiant kinsinan, &c.

Edmond Mortimer earl of March, son of earl Roger Mortimer, who was son to lady Phillip, daughter to Lionel duke of Clarence, the third son to king Edward the Third; which Edmond (king Richard going into Ireland) was proclained heir apparent to the crown; whose aunt, called Ellinor, this lord Piercy had married.

(") Oh, would Aumerle had sunk, when he be tray'd

The plot, which once the noble abbot laid.

The abbot of Westminster had plotted the death of king Henry, to have been done at a tilt at Oxford: of which confederacy there was John Holland duke of Exeter, Thomas Holland duke of Surry, the duke of Aumerle, Mountacute earl of Salisbury, Spenser earl of Glocester, the bishop of Carlile, and sir Thomas Blunt; these all had bound themselves one to another by indenture to perform it, but were all betrayed by the duke of Aumerie.

(10) Scroop, Green, and Bushy dye his fault in grain.

Henry going towards the castle of Flint, where king Richard was, caused Scroop, Green, and Bushy to be executed at Bristol, as vile persons, who had seduced the king to this lascivious and wicked life.

(") Damn'd be the oath he made at Doncaster,

After Henry's exile, at his return into England, he took his oath at Doncaster upon the sacrament, not to claim the crown or kingdom of England, but only the dukedom of Lancaster, his own proper right, and the right of his wife.

(12) And mourn for Henry Hotspur her dear son, As I for my, &c.

This was the brave couragious Henry Hotspur, that obtained so many victories against the Scots: which after falling out right with the curse of queen Isabel, was slain by Henry at the battle at Shrewsbury.

RICHARD IL. TO QUEEN ISABEL.

WHAT can my queen but hope for from this hand, That it should write, which never could command? A kingdom's greatness think how he should sway, That wholesom counsel never could obey ♦

Ill this rude hand did guide a sceptre then,
Worse now (I fear me) it will rule a pen.

How shall I call my self, or by what name,

To make thee know from whence these letters came?

Not from thy husband, for my hateful life
Makes thee a widow, being yet a wife:
Nor from a king, that title I have lost,
Now of that name proud Bullenbrook may boast.
What I have been, doth but this comfort bring,
No words so woful, as, "I was a king."
This lawless life, which first procur'd my hate;
(1) This tongue, which then renounc'd my regal
state;

This abject soul of mine, consenting to it;
This hand, that was the instrument to do it;
All these be witness, that I now deny
All princely types, all kingly sov'reignty.

Didst thou for my sake leave thy father's court,
Thy famous country and thy princely port,
And undertook'st to travel dang'rous ways,
Driven by awkward winds and boist'rous seas?
(2) And left'st great Bourbon, for thy love to me,
Who su'd in marriage to be link'd to thee,
Off'ring for dow'r the countries neighb'ring nigh,
Of fruitful Almain and rich Burgundy?
Didst thou all this, that England should receive
To miserable banishment to leave thee?
And in my downfall and my fortune's wrack,
Thus to thy country to convey thee back?

[thee,

When quiet sleep (the heavy heart's relief)
Hath rested sorrow, somewhat less'ned grief,
My passed greatness into mind I call,

And think this while I dreamed of my fall:
With this conceit my sorrows I beguile,
That my fair queen is but withdrawn a while,
And my attendants in some chamber by,
As in the height of my prosperity,
Calling aloud, and asking who is there?
The echo answ'ring, tells me, Woe is there:
And when mine arms would gladly thee enfold,
I clip the pillow, and the place is cold:
Which when my waking eyes precisely view,
'Tis a true token, that it is too true.

As many minutes as in the hours there be,
So many hours each minute seems to me;
Each hour a day, morn, noontide, and a set,
Each day a year, with miseries complete;
A winter, spring time, Summer, and a fall,
All seasons varying, but unseason'd all:
In endless woe my thread of life thus wears,
In minutes, hours, days, months, to ling'ring years.
They praise the summer, that enjoy the South,
Pomfret is closed in the North's cold mouth;
There pleasant Summer dwelleth all the year,
Frost-starved Winter doth inhabit here:
A place wherein despair may fitly dwell,
Sorrow best suiting with a cloudy cell.
(3) When Hertford had his judgment of exile,
Saw I the people's murmuring the while;
Th' uncertain commons touch'd with inward care,
As though his sorrows mutually they bare:
Fond women, and scarce-speaking children mourn,
Bewail his parting, wishing his return:

(4) That I was forc'd t'abridge his banish'd years, When they bedew'd his foot-steps with their tears; Yet by example could not learn to know,

To what his greatness by their love might grow. (') But Henry boasts of our achievements done, Bearing the trophies our great fathers won;

And all the story of our famous war,
Must grace the annals of great Lancaster
(6) Seven goodly scions in their spring did
flourish,
[nourish,
Which one self-root brought forth, one stock did
(7) Edward, the top-branch of that golden tree,
Nature in him her utmost power did see,
Who from the bud still blossomed so fair,
As all might judge what fruit it meant to bear:
But I his graft, of ev'ry weed o'ergrown,
And from our kind, as refuse forth am thrown.
We from our grandsire stood in one degree,
(*) But after Edward, John the young'st of three.
Might princely Wales beget a son so base,
That to Gaunt's issue should give sovereign place?
(9) He that from France brought John his pris'ner
home,

As those great Cæsars did their spoils to Rome,
(19) Whose name, obtained by his fatal hand,
Was ever fearful to that conquer'd land :
His fame increasing, purchas'd in those wars,
Can scarcely now be bounded with the stars;
With him is valour from the base world fled,
(Or here in me it is extinguished)

Who for his virtue, and his conquests' sake,
Posterity a demi-god shall make;

And judge, this vile and abject spirit of mine,
Could not proceed from temper so divine.

What earthly humour, or what vulgar eye
Can look so low, as on our misery?

When Bullenbrook is mounted to our throne,
And makes that his, which we but call'd our own:
Into our councils he himself intrudes,
And who but Henry with the multitudes?
His power degrades, his dreadful frown disgraceth,
He throws them down whom our advancement
As my disable and unworthy band [placeth;
Never had power, belonging to command.
He treads our sacred tables in the dust,
(1) And proves our acts of parliament unjust,
As though he hated that it should be said,
That such a law by Richard once was made:
Whilst I deprest before his greatness, lie
Under the weight of hate and infamy.
My back, a foot stool Bullenbrook to raise,
My looseness mock'd, and hateful by his praise,
Out-live mine honour, bury my estate,
And leave myself nought, but my people's hate.

Sweet queen, I'll take all counsel thou canst give,
So that thou bid'st me neither hope nor live:
"Succour that comes, when ill hath done his worst,
But sharpens grief, to make us more accurst."
Comfort is now unpleasing to mine ear,
Past cure, past care, my bed become my bier:
Since now misfortune humbleth us so long,
Till Heaven be grown unmindful of our wrong;
Yet it forbid my wrongs should ever die,
But still remember'd to posterity:
And let the crown be fatal that he wears,
And ever wet with woful mother's tears.

Thy curse on Piercy angry Heavens prevent, Who have not one curse left, on him unspent, To scourge the world, now borrowing of my store, As rich of woes, as I a king am poor. Then cease (dear queen) my sorrows to bewail, My wound's too great for pity now to heal. Age stealeth on, whilst thou complainest thus, My griefs be mortal and infectious: Yet better fortunes thy fair youth may try, That follow thee, which still from me do fly.

ANNOTATIONS OF THE CHRONICLE HISTORY.

(1) This tongue, which then renounc'd my regal

state.

'Richard the Second, at the resignation of the crown to the duke of Hertford in the tower of Loudon, delivering the same with his own hand, there confessed his disability to govern, utterly renouncing all kingly authority.

(2) And left'st great Bourbon, for thy love to me. Before the princess Isabel was married to the king, Lewis duke of Bourbon sued to have had her in marriage; which was thought he had obtained, if this motion had not fallen out in the mean time. This duke of Bourbon sued again to have received her at her coming into France, after the imprisonment of king Richard; but king Charles her father then crossed him, as before, and gave her to Charles, son to the duke of Orleans.

(3) When Hertford had his judgment of exile. When the combat should have been at Coventry, betwixt Henry duke of Hertford, and Thomas duke of Norfolk (where Hertford was adjudged to banishment for ten years) the commons exceedingly lamented; so greatly was he ever favoured of the people.

(*) That I was forc'd t'abridge his banish'd years.

When the duke came to take his leave of the king, being then at Eltham, the king, to please the commons, rather than for any love he bare to Hertford, repealed four years of his banishment.

(') But Henry boasts of our achievements done. Henry, the eldest son of John duke of Lancaster, at the first carl of Derby, then created duke of Hertford; after the death of the duke, John his father was duke of Lancaster and Hertford, earl of Derby, Leicester, and Lincoln: and after he had obtained the crown, was called by the name of Bullenbrook, which is a town in Lincolnshire; as usually all the kings of England bare the name of the place where they were born.

(*) Seven goodly scions in their spring did flourish. Edward the Third had seven sons: Edward prince of Wales, after called the Black Prince: William of Hatfield, the second: Lionel duke of Clarence, the third: John of Gaunt duke of Lancaster, the furth; Edmond of Langly, duke of York, the fifth: Thomas of Woodstock, duke of Glocester, the sixth William of Windsor, the seventh.

(') Edward, the top-branch of that golden tree. Truly boasting himself to be the eldest son of Edward the Black Prince.

(*) Yet after Edward, John the young'st of three. As disabling Henry Bullenbrook, being but the son of the fourth brother: William and Lionel being both before John of Gaunt.

(*) He that from France brought John his pris'ner home.

Edward the Black Prince taking John king of France prisoner at the battle of Poitiers, brought him into England, where at the Savoy he died.

(1) Whose name, achieved by his fatal hand. Called the Black Prince, not so much of his complexion as of the famous battles he fought; as

is showed before in the gloss upon the epistle of Edward to the countess of Salisbury.

(1) And proves our acts of parliament unjust. In the next parliament after Richard's resignation of the crown, Henry caused to be annihilated all the laws made in the parliament called the wicked parliament, held in the twentieth year of king Richard's reign.

QUEEN CATHARINE TO OWEN TUDOR.

ARGUMENT.

Henry the Fifth, that only man of roen,
Too soon deceased; bright queen Cath'rine then,
(Henry the Sixth, her son, of tender years,
Fortune so strangely her affection steers,
That amongst many, call'd one day to dance
Before the king and her) this heir of France,
And England's dowager, her eye taken had
By Owen Tudor, a brave youthful lad,
One of her wardrobe, and from Wales descended:
She, the great good that was to him intended,
To let him know, this letter doth devise,
Lest that the greatness of the enterprise
Show'd her, his love was answ'ring to her mind.
Should hap to daunt him; but he, bold by kiud,

JUDGE not a princess' worth impeach'd hereby,
That love thus triumphs over majesty;
Nor think less virtue in this royal hand,
That it entreats, and wonted to command:
For in this sort though humbly now it woo,
The day hath been, thou would'st have kneel'd unto.
Nor think that this submission of my state
Proceeds from frailty; rather judge it fate.

Alcides ne'er more fit for war's stern shock,
Than when with women spinning at the rock;
Never less clouds did Phabus' glory dim,
Than in a clown's shape when he covered him:
Jove's great command was never more obey'd,
Than when a satyr's antic parts he play'd.
He was thy king, who su'd for love to me;
And she is queen, who sues for love to thee.
When Henry was, my love was only his;
But by his death, it Owen Tudor's is.
My love to Owen, him my Henry giveth;
My love to Henry, in my Owen liveth.
Henry woo'd me, whilst wars did yet increase,
I woo my Tudor in sweet calms of peace;
To force affection, he did conquest prove;
I come with gentle arguments of love.

First saw I Henry clad in princely arms:
(1) Encamp'd at Melans, in war's hot alarms,
At pleasant Windsor, first these eyes of mine
My Tudor judg'd, for wit and shape, divine:
Henry abroad, with puissance and with force;
Tudor at home, with courtship and discourse:
He then, thou now, I hardly can judge whether,
A march, a measure, battle, or a dance,
Did like me best, Plantagenet or Tether;
A courtly rapier, or a conqu'ring lance.
His princely bed hath strength'ned my renown,
(2) And on my temples set a double crown,
Which glorious wreath (as Henry's lawful heir)
Henry the Sixth upon his brow doth bear.