Collected Works of Michael Drayton

by Michael Drayton

  Fall instantly to ground, as though it were a stone,

  But put out to the Sea, they instantly are gone,

  And flye a league or two before they doe returne,

  As onely by that ayre, they on their wings were borne.

  Then my Prophetick Spring at Veipsey, I may show,

  That some yeares is dry’d vp, some yeares againe doth flow;

  But when it breaketh out with an immoderate birth,

  It tells the following yeare of a penurious dearth.

  Here ended shee her speech, the Ridings all made friends,

  And from my tyred hand, my labored Canto ends.

  POLY-OLBION: THE NINE AND TWENTIETH SONG

  The Argument

  The Muse the Bishopricke assayes,

  And to her fall sings downe the Teis,

  Then takes shee to the dainty Wer,

  And with all braueries fitted her.

  Tyne tells the Victories by vs got,

  In soughten Fields against the Scot.

  Then through Northumberland shee goes,

  The Floods and Mountaines dotb dispose;

  And with their glories doth proceed,

  Not staying till shee come to Tweed.

  THE Muse this largest Shire of England hauing sung,

  Yet seeing more then this did to her taske belong,

  Looks still into the North, the Bishopricke and viewes,

  Which with an eager eye, whilst wistly she pursues,

  Teis as a bordering Flood, (who thought her selfe diuine)

  Confining in her Course that Countie Palatine,

  And Yorke the greatest Shire doth instantly begin,

  To rouze her selfe; quoth shee, Doth euery Rillet win

  Applause for their small worth’s, and I that am a Queene,

  With those poore Brooks compar’d, shall I alone be seene

  Thus silently to passe, and not be heard to sing,

  When as two Countries are contending for my Spring:

  For Cumberland, to which the Cumri gaue the name,

  Accounts it to be hers, Northumberland the same,

  Will needsly hers should bee, for that my Spring doth rise,

  So equallytwixt both, that he were very wise,

  Could tell which of these two, me for her owne may claime.

  But as in all these Tracts, there’s scarce a Flood of fame,

  But shee some Vally hath, which her braue name doth beare:

  My Teisdale, nam’d of me, so likewise haue I heare,

  At my first setting foorth, through which I nimbly slide;

  Then Yorkshire which doth lye vpon my Setting side,

  Me Lune and Bauder lends, as in the Song before

  Th’industrious Muse hath shew’d; my Dunelmenian shore,

  Sends to helpe my course, with some few other Becks,

  Which (as it should seeme) so vtterly neglects,

  That they are namelesse yet; then doe I bid adiew,

  To battelled Towers, and seriously pursue

  My course to Neptunes Court, but as forthright I runne,

  The Skern, a dainty Nymph, saluting Darlington,

  Comes in to giue me ayd, and being prowd and ranke,

  Shee chanc’d to looke aside, and spieth neere her Banke,

  Three blacke and horrid pits, which for their boyling heat,

  (That from their lothsome brimms, doe breath a sulpherous sweat)

  Hell-kettles rightly cald, that with the very sight,

  This Water-Nymph, my Skern is put in such ,

  That with vnusuall speed, she on her Course doth hast,

  And rashly runnes her selfe into my widened waste.

  In pompe I thus approch great Amphetrites state.

  But whilst Teis vndertooke her Story to relate,

  Wer waxeth almost wood, that she so long should stand

  Vpon those loftie tearmes, as though both sea and land

  Were tyde to heare her talke: quoth Wer, what wouldst thou say,

  Vaine-glorious bragging Brooke, hadst thou so cleere a way

  T’aduance thee as I haue, hadst thou such meanes and might,

  How wouldst thou then exult? O then to what a height

  Wouldst thou put vp thy price? hadst thou but such a Trine

  Of Rillets as I haue, which naturally combine,

  Their Springs thee to beget, as these of mine doe me,

  In their consenting sounds, that doe so well agree?

  As Kellop comming in from Kellop-Law her Syre,

  A Mountaine much in fame, small Wellop doth require,

  With her to walke along, which Burdop with her brings.

  Thus from the full conflux of these three seuerall Springs

  My greatnesse is begot, as Nature meant to show

  My future strength and state; then forward doe I flow

  Through my delicious Dale, with euery pleasure rife,

  And Wyresdale still may stand, with Teisdale for her life:

  Comparing of their Scites, then casting on my Course,

  So satiate with th’excesse of my first naturall source,

  As petty Bournes and Becks, I scorne but once to call,

  Wascrop a wearish Gyrle, of name the first of all,

  That I vouchsafe for mine, vntill that I ariue

  At Aukland, where with force me forward still to driue,

  Cleere Gauntlesse giues her selfe, when I begin to gad,

  And whirling in and out, as I were waxed mad,

  I change my posture oft, to many a Snakie Gyre,

  To my first fountaine now, as seeming to retyre:

  Then suddenly againe I turne my watry trayle,

  Now I endent the earth, and then I it engrayle

  With many a turne and trace, thus wandring vp and downe,

  Braue Durham I behold, that stately seated Towne,

  That Dunholme hight of yore (euen) from a Desart wonne,

  Whose first foundation Zeale, and Piety begun,

  By them who thither first Saint Cutberts body brought,

  To saue it from the Danes, by fire and sword that sought

  Subuersion of those things, that good and holy were,

  With which beloued place, I seeme so pleased here,

  As that I clip it close, and sweetly hug it in

  My cleare and amorous armes, as iealous time should win

  Me further off from it, as our diuorce to be.

  Hence like a lustie Flood most absolutely free,

  None mixing then with me, as I doe mix with none,

  But scorning a Colleague, nor neere me any one,

  To Neptunes Court I come; for note along the Strond,

  From Hartlepoole (euen) to the poynt of Sunder land,

  As farre as Wardenlaws can possibly suruey;

  There’s not a Flood of note hath entrance to the sea.

  Here ended shee her Speech, when as the goodly Tyne,

  (Northumberland that parts from this Shire Palatine)

  Which patiently had heard, looke as before the Wer

  Had taken vp the Teis, so Tyne now takes vp her,

  For her so tedious talke, Good Lord (quoth she) had I

  No other thing wherein my labor to imply,

  But to set out my selfe, how much (well) could I say,

  In mine owne proper praise, in this kind euery way

  As skilfull as the best; I could if I did please,

  Of my two Fountaines tell, which of their sundry wayes,

  The South and North are nam’d, entitled both of Tyne,

  As how the prosperous Springs of these two Floods of mine

  Are distant thirty miles, how that the South-Tyne nam’d,

  From Stanmore takes her Spring, for Mines of Brasse that’s fam’d,

  How that nam’d of the North, is out of Wheel-fell sprung,

  Amongst these English Alpes, which as they runne along,

  England, and Scotland here impartially diuide.

  How South-Tyne setting out from Cumberla
nd is plide,

  With Hartley which her hasts, and Tippall that doth striue,

  By her more sturdy Streame, the Tyne along to driue;

  How th’Allans, th’East, and West, their bounties to her bring,

  Two faire and full-brim’d Floods, how also from her Spring,

  My other North-nam’d Tyne, through Tyndale maketh in,

  Which Shele her Hand-mayd hath, and as she hasts to twin

  With th’other from the South, her sister, how cleere Rhead,

  With Perop comes prepar’d, and Cherlop, me to lead,

  Through Ridsdale on my way, as farre as Exham, then

  Dowell me Homage doth, with blood of Englishmen,

  Whose Streame was deeply dy’d in that most cruell warre

  Of Lancaster and Yorke. Now hauing gone so farre,

  Their strengths me their deare Tyne, doe wondrously enrich,

  As how cleere Darwent drawes downe to Newcastle, which

  The honour hath alone to entertaine me ,

  As of those mighty ships, that in my mouth I beare,

  Fraught with my country Coale, of this Newcastle nam’d,

  For which both farre and neere, that place no lesse is fam’d,

  Then India for her Mynes; should I at large declare

  My glories, in which Time commands me to bee spare,

  And I but slightly touch, which stood I to report,

  As freely as I might, yee both would fall too short

  Of me; but know that Tyne hath greater things in hand:

  For, to tricke vp our selues, whilst trifling thus we stand,

  Bewitch’d with our owne praise, at all we neuer note,

  How the Albanian Floods now lately set afloat,

  With th’honour to them done, take heart, and lowdly crie

  Defiance to vs all, on this side Tweed that lye;

  And hearke the high-brow’d Hills alowd begin to ,

  With sound of things that Forth prepared is to sing:

  When once the Muse ariues on the Albanian shore;

  And therefore to make vp our forces here before

  The on-set they begin, the Battels wee haue got,

  Both on our earth and theirs, against the valiant Scot,

  I vndertake to tell; then Muses I intreat

  Your ayd, whilst I these Fights in order shall repeat.

  When mighty Malcolme here had with a violent hand,

  (As he had oft before) destroy’d Northumberland,

  In Rufus troubled Raigne, the warlike Mowbray then,

  This Earledome that , with halfe the power of men,

  For conquest which that King from Scotland hither drew,

  At Anwick in the field their Armies ouerthrew;

  Where Malcolme and his sonne, braue Edward both were found,

  Slaine on that bloody field: So on the English ground,

  When Dauid King of Scots, and Henry his sterne sonne,

  Entitled by those times, the Earle of Huntingdon,

  Had forradg’d all the North, beyond the Riuer Teis,

  In Stephens troubled raigne, in as tumultuous dayes

  As England euer knew, the Archbishop of Yorke,

  Stout Thurstan, and with him ioynd in that warlike work,

  Ralfe, (both for wit and Armes) of Durham Bishop then

  Renownd, that called were the valiant Clergy men,

  With th’Earle of Aubemarle, Especk, and Peuerell, Knights,

  And of the Lacies two, oft try’d in bloody fights,

  Twixt Aluerton and Yorke, the doubtfull battell got,

  On Dauid and his sonne, whilst of th’inuading Scot,

  Ten thousand strew’d the earth, and whilst they lay to bleed,

  Ours followed them that fled, beyond our sister Tweed.

  And when Fitz-Empresse next in Normandy, and here,

  And his rebellious sonnes in high combustions were,

  William the Scottish King, taking aduantage then,

  And entring with an Host of eighty thousand men,

  As farre as Kendall came, where Captaines then of ours,

  Which ayd in Yorkshire raisd, with the Northumbrian powers,

  His forces ouerthrew, and him a prisoner led.

  So Long shanks, Scolands scourge, him to that Country sped,

  Prouoked by the Scots, that England did inuade,

  And on the Borders here such spoyle and hauock made,

  That all the land lay waste betwixt the Tweed and me.

  This most coragious King, from them his owne to free,

  Before proud Berwick set his puisant army downe,

  And tooke it by strong siege, since when that warlike towne,

  As Cautionary long the English after held.

  But tell me all you Floods, when was there such a Field

  By any Nation yet, as by the English wonne,

  Vpon the Scottish power, as that of Halidon,

  Seauen Earles, nine hundred Horse, and of Foot-souldiers more,

  Neere twenty thousand slaine, so that the Scottish gore

  Ranne downe the Hill in streames (euen) in Albania’s sight.

  By our third Edwards prowesse, that most renowned Knight,

  As famous was that Fight of his against the Scot,

  As that against the French, which he at Cressy got.

  And when that conquering King did afterward aduance

  His Title, and had past his warlike powers to France,

  And Dauid King of Scots heere entred to inuade,

  To which the King of France did that false Lord perswade,

  Against his giuen Faith, from France to draw his Bands,

  To keepe his owne at home, or to fill both his hands

  With warre in both the Realmes: was euer such a losse,

  To Scotland yet befell, as that at Neuills Crosse,

  Where fifteene thousand Scots their soules at once forsooke,

  Where stout Iohn Copland then, King Dauid prisoner tooke,

  I’th head of all his troups, that brauely there was seene.

  When English Philip, that braue Amazonian Queene,

  Encouraging her men, from troupe to troupe did ride,

  And where our Cleargy had their ancient Valourtride:

  Thus often comming in, they haue gone out too short.

  And next to this the fight of Nesbit I report,

  When Hebborn that stout Scot, and his had all their hire,

  Which in t’our Marches came, and with inuasiue fire,

  Our Villages laid waste, for which defeat of ours,

  When doughty Douglasse came with the Albanian powers.

  At Holmdon doe but see, the blow our gaue

  To that bold daring Scot, before him how he draue

  His Armie, and with shot of our braue English Bowes,

  Did wound them on the backs, whose brests were hurt with blows,

  Ten thousand put to sword, with many a Lord and Knight,

  Some prisoners, wounded some, some others outright,

  And entring Scotl’and then, all o’r-ran.

  Or who a brauer field then th’Earle of Surrey wan,

  Where their King Iames the fourth himselfe so brauely bore,

  That since that age wherein he liu’d, nor those before,

  Yet neuer such a King in such a Battell saw,

  Amongst his fighting friends, where whilst he breath could draw,

  Hee brauely fought on foot, where Flodden Hill was

  With bodies of his men, welneere to mammocks hew’d,

  That on the Mountaines side, they couered neere a mile,

  Where those two valiant Earles of Lenox and Arguyle,

  Were with their Soueraigne slaine, Abbots, and Bishops there,

  Which had put Armor on, in hope away to beare

  The Victory with them, before the English fell.

  But now of other Fields, it the Muse to tell,

  As when the Noble Duke of Norfolke made a Road

  To Scotland, and therein his hostile bestow
’d

  On welneere thirtie Townes, and staying there so long,

  Till victuall waxed weake, the Winter waxing strong,

  Returning ouer Tweed, his Booties home to ,

  Which to the very heart did vex the Scottish King,

  The fortune of the Duke extreamely that did grutch,

  Remaining there so long, and doing there so much,

  Thinking to spoyle and waste, in England as before,

  The English men had done on the Albanian shore,

  And gathering vp his force, before the English fled

  To Scotlands vtmost bounds, thence into England sped,

  When that braue Bastard sonne of , and his friend,

  Iohn Musgraue, which had charge the Marches to attend,

  With Wharton, a proud Knight, with scarce foure hundred Horse,

  Encountring on the Plaine with all the Scottish force,

  Thence from the Field with them, so many prisoners brought,

  Which in that furious fight were by the English caught,

  That there was scarce a Page or Lackey but had store,

  Earles, Barrons, Knights, Esquires, two hundred there and more,

  Of ordinary men, seuen hundred made to yeeld,

  There scarcely hath been heard, of such a foughten field,

  That Iames the fifth to thinke, that but very few,

  His vniuersall power so strangely should subdue,

  So tooke the same to heart, that it abridg’d his life.

  Such foyles by th’English giuen, amongst the Scots were rife.

  These on the English earth, the English men did gaine;

  But when their breach of faith did many times constraine

  Our Nation to inuade, and carry conquests in

  To Scotland; then behold, what our successe hath bin,

  Euen in the latter end of our eight Henries dayes,

  Who Seymor sent by Land, and Dudley sent by Seas,

  With his full forces then, O Forth, then didst thou beare,

  That Nany on thy Streame, whose Bulke was fraught with feare,

  When Edenbrough and Leeth, into the ayre were blowne

  With Powders sulphurous smoke, & twenty townes were throwne

  Vpon the trampled earth, and into ashes trod;

  As int’ Albania when we made a second Road,

  In our sixt Edwards dayes, when those two Martiall men,

  Which conquered there before, were thither sent agen:

  But for their high desarts, with greater Titles grac’d,

  The first created Duke of Somerset, the last

  The Earle of Warwicke made, at Muscleborough Field,

  Where many a doughty Scot that did disdaine to yeeld,

  Was on the earth layd dead, where as for fiue miles space