SHORE

Oh torment worse then death to see her face, That caused her shame, & my unjust disgrace, Oh that our mutual eyes were, Basilisks, To kill each other at his interview, Ashamed of thee, cause of my heaviness? I am condemned by sentence of vefame, Oh were I dead I might not see my shame. For all the wrong that thou hast done to me, They should not hurt Thee yet if I were free. I'll eat no meat, give me leave to walk here, Am I now left alone? no millions Of Misery's attend me every where: Ah Matthew Shore, how does all seeing heaven, Punish some sin, from thy blind conscience hid? Inflicting pame where all thy pleasure was, And by my wife came all these woes to pass, She falsed her faith, and brake her wedlock's band, Her honour falue, how could my credit stand? Yet will not I poor Jane on thee exclaim, Though guilty thou, I guiltless suffer shame. I left this land too little for my grief, Returning, am accounted as a These, Who in that ship came but a passenger, To see my friends, hoping the death of her, At fight of whom some sparks of former love, (Hid in affections ashes) pity move, Kindling compassion in my broken heart, That bleeds to think on her ensuing smart. Oh see weak women's imperfections, That leave their husbands safe protections, Hazarding all on strangers flatteries, Whose ala worser, leaves them to Misery's, See what dishonour breach of wedlock brings, Which is not safe even in the arms of kings: Thus do I Jane lament thy present state, Wishing my tears thy torments might abate. Good Captain set no perturbation, inder our passage to a better world, This last breathes blast will waft our weary souls, Over death's gulf, to heavens most happy port, There is a little battle to be fought. Wherein by lot the leading must be mine, Second me Captain, and this bitter breakfast, Shall bring a sweeter supper with the Saints. So God respect the waygate of my soul, as I know nothing. No in my conscience. Oh so I do, and pray the world forgive, What wrong I did while I therein did live, And now I pray you turn your pains to them, And leave me private for a little space, To meditate upon my parting hence. Pray not for Flood, but pray for Matthew Shore, For Shore covered with the cloak of Flood, If I have sinnde in changing of my name, Forgive me God, it done to hide my shame, And I forgive the world, King Edward first, That wracked my state, by winning of my wife, And though he would not pardon trespass small, In these, in me God knows no fault at all, I pardon him, though guilty of my fallen. Perhaps he would, if he had known it I, But twenty death's I rather wish to die, Than live beholding for one minutes breath To him, that living, wounded me with death. Death of my joy, and hell of my defame, Which now shall die under this borrowed name. Thus is her glory built on the sand. In what I undertake I will be joust, And hold me happy, if my diligence May please so worthy a Gentleman as he, What ere my Fortune's have been, they are now, Such as to service make their master bow. The Tower will be a place of secret rest, Where I may hear good news & bade, and use the best, God bless the king, a worse may wear the crown And then Jane Shore thy credit will come down, For though isle never bed nor board with thee, Yet thy destruction with I not to see, Because I lou'de thee when thou wast my wise, Not for now saving my disdained life, Which lasts too long. God graut us both to mend, Well I must in my service to attend. And yet I could wish my Lord Protector, Had sent his warra ̄ to thither by some other, aside. I do not Like their looks I tell you true. I am glad you do sir? all is one for that, But if you did not Harken better now, I never saw three faces in whose looks, Did ever fit more terror: or more death, God bless the Princes if it be his will, I do not Like these villains. To one mistress Blages, and Inn in Gracious stróete, There you shall find me, or shall hear of me. O mistress Blage, though I must needs confess, It would have been more welcome to my soul, If I had died and been remoude at last, From the confused troubles of this world, Whereof I have sustained no mean weight, Then lingering here be made a packhorse still Of torments, in comparison of which Death is but as the pricking of a thorn, Yet I do thank you for your taken pains, And would to God I could requite your love. How? Mistress Shore, good friends let go your hold, My strength is now sufficient of it self. O is it she that still prolongs my woe ? Was it ordainde not only at the first, She should be my destruction, but now twice, When gracious destinies had brought about, To end this weary pilgrimage of mine, Must she and none but she prevent that good, And stop my entrance to eternal bliss? O lasting plague, o endless corrasive, It now repents me double that I scap'te, Since life's made death, and life's author hate. Mistress I thank you, and I care not much If I be ruled by you. O God that she should pity me unknown, That knowing me by her was overthrown, Or ignorantly she should regard this smart, That heretofore sparde not to stab my heart. Ah Jane I cannot choose but pity thee, Heres the first step to thy deep misery. O what have I beheld, were I as young, As when I came to London to be prentice, This pageant were sufficient to instruct, And teach me ever after to be wise. First have I seen desert of wantonness, And breach of wedlock: then of flattery, Next of dissembilng love, and last of all, The ruin of base catching avarice: But poor Jane Shore in that I lou'de thee once, And w S thy husband I must pity, thee, The sparks of old affection long ago, up in ashes of displeasure kindle, And in this furnace of adversity, The world shall see a husbands loyalty. Yonder she sits how Like a withered tree, That is in winter leafless and bereft Of lively sap, sits she poor abic soul, How much unlike the woman is sh now, She was but yesterday: so short and brittle Is this world's happiness: but who is that. False mistress Blage? how canst thou brook his Jane? I thou wast always mild and pitiful, O hadst thon been as chased, we had been blessed, But now no more of that: she shall not starve, So long as this, and such as this may serve, Here mistress Shore, feed on these homely Cates, And there is wine to drink them down withal. No matter for my name, I am a friend, That loves you well, so farewell mistiris Shore, When that is spent, I vow to bring you more. What is she gone so soon? alack poor Jane, How I compassionate thy woeful case? Whereas we lived tog there man and wife, Oft on and humble stool by the fire side, Sat she contented, when as my high heat, Would chid her for it. But what would she say Husband we both must lower fit one day, When I dare swear thee never dreamt of this, But see good God what prophesying is. The kings hand more of that. Who is it that thus pities my poor wife? Ti M. Air, Gods blessing on him for it. Is he a traitor sir, for doing good? God save the King, a true heart means no ill. I trust he hath reclaimde his arpe edict, And will not that his poorest subject perish, And so persuaded I my self will do, That which both love and nature binds me to. I c nnot give her as she well deserves. For she hath lost a greater benefit. take that purse. You shall not sir, for I will answer it, Before the King if you enforce it so. You will be he will first repent the thing: Come M. Air, isle bear you company, Which wise men does say ease calamity, Is it not written there? So M. Rufford sates. I did relieve that woeful wretch Shores wife. I did not break it. And added more, you would repent the thing. Nothing, for I am mortal and must die, When my time comes, but that I thinks not yet, Although (God knows) each hour I wish it were, So full of dolour is my wearje life: Now say I this, that I do know the man, Which does abet that traitorous libeler, Who did compose & spread that slauderous rhyme, Which scandals you, and does abuse the time. I think I can if you command me so. In this sort it goes. The crook bakt Boar the way hath found, To root our Roses from our ground, Both flower and bud will he confound, Till King of beasts the swine be crowned: And then the Dog, the Cat, and Rat, Shall in his trough feed and be fat. He is a traitor if he do my Lord. Thou hast but ustice for thy cruelty, Against the guiltless souls in misery, I ask no fau ur if I merit death. If I have broke the law. I do, if it be death to the relenting heart, Of a kind husband, wronged by a King, To his seduced wife, Whom all the world must suffer by command, To pine and perish for the want of food: If it be treason for her husband then, In the deer bowels of his former love, To bury his own wrong and her misdeed, And give her meat whom he was wont to feed, Then Shore must die, for Flood is not my name, Though once I took it to conceal my shame, Pittic permits not injured Shore pass by, And see his once loud wife with famine die. If any but your Grace should so upbraid, Such rude reproach should roughly be repaid. Suppose for treason that she lay condemnde, Might I not seed her till her hour of death, And yet my self no traitor for it? I never can forget so great a wrong. My charity does that compassion move. Oh world what art thou? man, even from his birth Finds nothing else but misery on earth, Thou never (world) scornedst Me so much before, But I (vain world) do hate thee ten times more. I am glad I feel approaching death so nigh, World thou hatest Me, I Thee vain world defy. I pray ye yet good master officers, Do but this kindness to poor wretched souls, As let us have the burial of our friend, It is but so much labour saude for you. Ah Jane, now there is none but thou and I Look on me well, knowest thou thy Ma. Shore? Ah my dear Jane, comfort thy heavy soul, Go not away so soon, a little stay, A little, little while, that thou and I, Like man and wife may here together die, Jane be content, our woes are now alike, With one self rod thou seest God worser us strike, If for thy , isle pray to heaven for thee, And if for mine, do thou as much for me. I faith I do, as freely from my soul, As at Gods hands I hope to be forgiven. And he is come to me, here he lies, I feel him ready to close up mine eyes, Lend Me thy hand to bury this our friend, And then we both will hasten to our end. O happy graven, to us this comfort giving, Here lics two living dead, here one dead living, Here for his sake, lo this we do for thee, Thou lookest for one, and art poss st of three. Oh thou hast cracked thy credit with a crown. And murdered me poor Matthew Shore alive. Oh had that continued ̄ science pricked when love provoked. And so would I for Thee hadst thou been true: But if I die, hid all thy pomp adieu. I thank you sir, God grant I may deserve it. I hope my Lord he is not dead already? Wy Richard man? who else? good Lord I see, Wise men sometime have weak capacity. Why man, lining for beds, a knife, or so, What make a boy a King, and a man by, Richard, a man for us? fie that were a shame. Nay then I see if Edward were deceased, Which way the game would go. Now do I smell two Bishoprics at least, My sermon shall be pepperd found for this. Well mistress Shore, if you have needs of me, You shall command me to the uttermost. I thats your coming, for you come to stab. O wherefore have you waked me from my sleep? And broke the quiet slumber I was in, Me thought I sat in such a pleasant place, So full of all delight as never eye Beheld, nor heart of man could comprehend, If you had let me go I felt no pain, But being now revoked my grief renews. Anselm I did. What justice cravest thou? I will combat Thee, In sign whereof I do unbutton me, And in my shirt my challenge will maintain, Thou callest me traitor, I will prove thee one, Open thy bosom Like me if thou darest? Thou wilt not open the pack of thy disgrace. Because thy doublets stuffed with traitorous libels. And why not now (Oh pardon me dread lord) When she hath had both punishment and shame Sufficient, since a King did cause her blame, May I not give her food to save her life, Yet never take and use her as my wife? Oh hadst thou never broke thy how to me From fear and wrong had I defended thee. Oh I had read my latest lesson well. Had he been ready to have said, Amen. Now shall I live to see my shame again. Oh had I died unwitting to my wife, Rather then see her, though she bring me life. Nay then isle stab with thee. Sir I am hurt, stabbed in the arm, Hell and damnation follow murderers. Are ye so cunning sir, I say no more, Jane Shore or I may quittance you for this. Yes Jane, I donc. We confess that thou hast p ledge, And art excepted in our Proclamation, Because thou art her husband whom it concerns, And thou mayest lawfully relieve thy wife, Upon condition thou forgive her fault, Take her again, and use her as before, Hazard new horns, how sasist thou, wilt thou Shore? He is their uncle Sir, and in that sense, Nature should warrant their security, Next his deceased brother at his death, To Richard's care communitted both the realm, And their protection: where humanity Stands as and Orator to plead ag inst All wrong suggestion of uncivil thoughts: Beside you are Lieutenant of the Tower, Say there should be any hurt prefended, The privilege of your authority Pries into every corner of this house, And what can then be done without your knowledge? And faith in me unto this commonwealth, And truth to men hath hitherto been seen, The Pilot that hath guided my lives course, Though it my fortune to be wronged in both: And therefore Sir neither the mighties frown, Nor any bribes shall win me otherwise. There take his body, bury it where you will, So it be quickly done out of the way. Ah my sweet Jane, farewell, farewell poor soul, Now tyrant Richard do the worst thou canst, She does defy Thee, o unconstant world, Here lies a true Anatom e of thee, A King had all my joy, that her inioyde, And by a King again was destroyed: All ages of my kingly w es shall tell, Once more inconstant world farewell, farewell.