EDWARD I

Help Ladies: Oh ingrateful destiny, To welcome Edward with this tragedy. Take comfort madam, leave these sad laments, Dear was my uncle, dearer was my son: And ten times dearer was my noble father, Yet were their lives valewd at thousand world's, They cannot escape the arrest of dreadful death: Death that doth seize and summon all alike. Then leaving them to heavenly blessedness, To join in thrones of glory with the joust, I do salute your royal Majesty. My gracious mother Queen, and you my lords, Gilbart de Clare, Sussex, and Mortimer, And all the princely states of England's peers, With health and honour to your hearts content, And welcome wished England on whose ground, These feet so often have desired to tread, Welcome sweet Queen my fellow Traveller, Welcome sweet Nell my fellow mate in arms, Whose eyes have seen the slaughtered Sarazens, Pil'de in the ditches of Jerusalem, And lastly welcome manly followers, That bears the scars of honour and of arms, And on your war drums carry crowns as kings, Crown Mural, Naval, and triumphant all, At view of whom the Turks have trembling fled, And Sarazens Like sheep before the walls, Have made their cottages in walled towns, But Bulwarks had no ence to beat you back, Lords, these and they will enter brazen gates, And tear down lime and Mortar with their nails. I brace them Barons these have God the name, Of English Gentlemen and knights at arms: Not one of these but in the Champain sealed, Hath won his crown, his collar and his spurs, Not Caesar adding through the streets of Room, The cap kings of conque ed nations, Was in his princely triumphs onoured more, Then English Edward in this martial ight. your li S are ost in service of the Lord, Which is your glory and your Countries fame, For li S, you have king, Lordship's, l ds, And be m counsel rs in wars affairs: Soldiers fit down, Nell fit thee by my side, These be pr ce Edwards pompious treasury. Oh glorious Capitol, beauteous Senate house, Triumphant Edward, how Like sturdy Oaks, Do these thy Soldiers circle thee about, To shield and shelter thee from winter's storms? Display thy cross, old Aims of the Vies, Dub on your Drums tanned with India's sun, My lusty esterne lads, Matreueirs thou, Found proudly here a perfect point of war, In honour of thy Sovereigns safe return. Thus Long shanks bids his Soldiers Bien vene . Madam I tell you England never bred, A better soldier then your Beadsman is, And that the Sultan and his Army felt. Gramercy brother Edmund, H ppie is England under Edwards reign, When men are had so highly in regard, That Nobles strive who shall remunerate, The soldiers resolution with regard. My Lord of Gloucester what is your benevolence? And yours my lord of Sussex? That I will Madam, Were it to the valve of my kingdom. Oh damned villain hold thy hands, Ask and have. Go to, say on. Nell, welcome into Wales, How fares my Elinor? Say any thing but so: Once Nell thou gau st me this. What, mallencollie Nell? And Katherin who brings me that news shall not go empty handed. Now have I leisure Lords to bid you well come into Wales. Welcome sweet Edmund to Christian thy young nephew And welcome Cressing , give me thy hand, But Sussex what became of Mortimor? We have not seen the man this many a day. Why Sussex said we not or Elinor, So she would leave whom she had loved too long, She might have f vour with my Queen and me, But man, her abou her fortune mounts, And thats a cause she ails in her accounts. But go with me my lord of Lancaster, We will go see my bea ous lovely Queen, That hath enriched me with a goodly bo e. Longsh Ladies by your leave, how does my Nell, mine own nigh love, my life, my heart, my deer, my dove, my Queen, my wife. N thou come, sweet Ned welcome my joy. Thy Nell presents thee with a lovely boy. Kiss him, and Christian him after thine own name. Heigh ho whom do I see, my lord of Lancaster, welcome heartily. But el in now leapt in Lily bans, How with my Queen, my lovely bo e it stands: After thy journey and these child bed pains. Ti well believe me wench godamercy I , Drink Nectar my sweet Nell, Worthy for seat in heaven with Jove to dwell. God send the King be taken in the mood, Then Niece 'tis Like that you shall have a husband, Come hither Gloucester hold give her thy hand, Take her, sole daughter to the Queen of England. For news he brought Nell of my young son, I promised him as much as I have done. We humbly thank your majesty. Now say sweet Queen what does my Lady crave? Tell me what name shall this young Welshman have, Born Prince of wales by Cambria's full consent. Then Edward of Carnarvan shall he be, And Prince of Wales christened in royalty. Farewell good Joan be careful of my Queen. Sleep Nell, the fairest Swan mine eyes have seen. As kings with rebels Must, our right prevails, We have good Robin Hood and little John, The Friar and the good Maid; marrian. Why our Lluellen is a mighty man. David enough, as I am a Gentleman, I'll have one merry flirt with little John, And Robin Hood, and his Maid marrian, Be thou my counsel and my company, And thou mayest Enlands resolution see. Well said Sussex I pray bid them come tear, Sir Dan trust me, this is kindly done of your country me. A friend Madam. Madam the country in all kindness and duty recommend their service and good will to your son and in token of their pure good will, presents him by us with a mantle of freeze richly lined to keep him warm, In good time Madam, he is your own, lap him as you list, but I promise thee Nell I would not for ten thousand pounds the country should take un kindness at thy words. Ah Must my brother, dearer then my life, How this proud honour slays my heart with grief. Sweet Queen how much I pity the effects, This Spanish pride grees not with England's prince, Mild is the mind where honour builds his bower, And yet is earthly honour but a flower. Fast to those looks are all my fancies tide, Pleased with thy sweetness, angry with thy pride. What wants my Queen to perfect her content, But ask and have the King will not repent. What means my Queen Gloucester, this is a Spanish fit. Sweet Queen say on my word shall be my deed. What means my lovely Elinor by this? Madam, pardon me and pardon all, No justice but the great runs with the small. Tell me good Gloucester art thou not afeard? Now Madam if you purpose to proceed, To make so many guiltless Ladies bleed. Here must the law begin, sweet Elinor at thy breast, And strech it self with violence to the rest. Flse Princes ought no other do, Fair lady, then they would be done unto. No Nell he does as best in honour does behoove, And prays thee gentle Queen, and let my prays move, Leave these ungentle thoughts, put on a milder mind, Sweet looks, not lofty, civil mood becomes a woman's kind: And live as being dead, and buried in the ground, Thou mayest for affability and honour be renownde. Oh could I with the riches of my crown, Buy better thoughts for my renowned Nel, Thy mind sweet Queen should be as beautiful, As is thy face, as is thy features all. Fraught with pure honour, treasure, and enriched, With virtues and glory incomparable. Ladies about her Majesty, see that the Queen your more there know not so much, but at any hand our pleasure is, that our young son be in this Mantle born to his Christening, for special reasons is thereto moving, from the Church as best it please your women's wits to de vise, yet sweet Joan see this faithfully performed, and hear you daughter, look you be not last up when this day coms, least Gloucester find another Bride in your steed, David go with me. . Honest man as I said to thee before, conduct us through this wood, and if thou be'st robbed, or have any violence offered thee, as I am a Gentleman I will repay it thee again. Fear not I will be my words master. Will e you wrong the man, hands off. M rye Friar the Farmer must and shall pay thee honestly ere he pass. I Farmer if you had been robbed of it, but if you be agamester isle take no charge of you I. Faith Robin thou seemest to be a good fellow theres my bag, half is mine and half is thine, but lets to it if thou darest man for man, to try who all have the whole. They are fair marks sir, and I must defend as I may, Dau be gone, hold here my hearts, long legs give you this among you to spend blows one with and other, Davy now Davy days are almost come at end. That shall I try. Villain thou diest, God and my right hath prevailed. What Mortimor under the sword of such a Tr or? Oh Mortimor thy life is dearer to me then mil lions of rebels. I villain thou knowest too well how deer I hold my Mortimor, r e man and assure thee, and the ate I bear to long in respect of the deadly would tread I bear to that noto ous rebel. kisses them both Edward Prince of Wales God bless thee with long life and honour, welcome Joan con tesse of Gloucester, God bless thee and thine for ever. lords let us visit my Queen and wife, whom we will at once present with a Son and daughter honoured to her desire. We humbly present your Majesty with your young son Edward of Carnarvan Prince of Wales. Now my sweet Nell what more commands my Queen that nothing may want to periect her con tentment. Master Bridegroom by old custom this is your waiting day, Sir David you may command alam ple welcome in our court, for your cuntreymen: brother Edmund revel it now or never for honour of your Eng lands son, Gloucester now Like a brave Bridegroom mar shall this many, and set these Lords and Ladies to dan cing, so shall you fulfil the old English proverb, us in Hall when beards wag all. What tidings brings Versses to our court? Me tremble b ? must not be news from Scotland, can once make English Edward S and a gaste. M j so me thinks thou defiest me with a witness. Hold messenger, commend me to thy King, Wear thou my chain and car j this to him, Greet all his rout of Rebels more or less, Tell them such shameful end will hit them all, And weened with this as resolutely back, As thou to England broughst thy Scottish braves, Tell then disdainfully Balliol from us, Weel rouse him from his hold, and make him soon Disloge his Camp, and take his walled town. Say what I bid thee Versses to his teeth. And earn this favour and a better thing. So shalt thou earn my chain and favour Versses, And carry him this token that thou sendest: Why now is England's harvest ripe, Barons now may you reap the rich renown, That under warlike colours springs in field, And grows where ensigns won upon the plains. False Balliol arwicke arwicke is no hold of propose, To shroud thee from the strength of Edwards arm, No Scot thy Treasons fear shall make that breach, For England's pure renown to enter one. While we with Edmund, loster, and the rest, With speedy iourne is gather up our forces, And Beatrice these braving Scots from England's bounds, Mortimor thou shalt take the rout in task, That revel here and spoil fair Cambria, My Queen when she is strong and well a foot, Shall post to London and repast her there, Then God shall send us happily all to meet, And joy the honours of our victories, Take vantage of our foes and see the time, Keep still our hold, our fight yet on the plain, Balliol I come proud Balliol and ingrate, Persuaded to chase thy men from England's gate. Oh God my God, the brightness of my day, How oft hast thou preserved thy servant safe, By sea and land, yea in the gates of death, Oh God to thee how highly am I bound, For setting me with these on English ground: One of my mansion houses will I give, To be a college for my maimed men, Where every one shall have and hundred marks Of yearly pension to his maintenance, A Soldier that for Christ and country sights, Shall want no living while king Edward lives, Lords you that love me now be liberal, And give your largess to these maimed men. Oh Heavens, what m e these miracles portend? Nobles my Queen is but what is more, Reed brother Edmund read a w drous chanc What say you sir David of Brecknock. Madam content you, would that were greatest car You shall have garments to your hearts desire, I never read but Englishmen excelled, For change of rare devises every way. Betwixt v a greater matter breaks no square, So it be such my Nell as may be , The ma sty and greatness of a king. A worser now my Lords and loving friends, Follow your General to the court, After his travels to repose him then, There to recount with pleasure what is passed, Of wars alarms, showers and sharpest storms. He had no thought of any gentle heart, That would not seize desire for such desert, If any heavenly joy in women be, Sweet of ll sweets, sweet Nell it is in thee. Now lords along by this the Earl of March, Lord Mortimor over Cambria's mountain tops, Hath ranged his men, and feels Lluellens mind, To which con es that we in wasting be, Our solle ne service of coronation passed, We amain to back our friends at need, And to Wales our men at arms shall march, And we with them in person foot by foot. Brother of Scotland, you shall to your home, And live in honour there fair England friend. And thou sweet Nell Queen of king Edwards heart. Shall now come at thy dainty love, And at coron cion meet thy loving peers, When storms are passed, and we have coolde the rage Of these rebellious Welshmen that contend, Gainst England's majesty, and Edwards crown. Found Trumpets Harold's led the train along, This be king Edwards feast and holly day. Why Barons, suffer ye our foes to breathe? Assault, assault, and charge them all amain, They fear, they fly, they faint, they fight in vain, But where is gentle David in his De ? Loath were lo ght but good should him betide. Where is the proud disturber of our state? Traitor to Wails, and to his Sovereign. Ambitious rebel, knowest thou what I am, How great. how famous, and how fortunate, And darest thou carry arms against me here, Even when thou shouldst do reverence at my feet? Yea feared and honoured in the farthest parts, Hath Edward been, thy noble Henries son, Traitor, this sword unsheathed hath shined oft, With reeking in the blood of Sarazens, When Like to Perseus on his winged steed, Brandishing bright the blood of And to, That aged Saturn gave S ire Maia's son, Conflicting though with Gorgon in the vale, Setting before the gates of Nazareth, My horses hoofes I stained in Pagaus gore, Sending whole countries of heathen souls, To Pluto's house: this sword, this thirllie sword, Aims at thy head, and shall I hope ere long, Gage and divide thy bowels and thy bulk, Disloi ll villain thou, and what is more. Lluellen, callest thou this the chance of war? Bade for us all pardie, but worse for him, Courage sir David, kings thou knowest must die, And noble minds all dastard fear defies. Bravely resolved brave soldier by my life. Oh villains, traitors, how will I be vengd? Sussex, his death, they all shall buy it deer, Offer them any favour for his life, Pardon, or peace, or ought what is beside: So love me God, as I regard my friends. Lluellen let me have thy brother's life, Even at what rate and ransom thou wilt name. Wilt thou exchange thy prisoner for thy love? Fetch her at once, good Mortimor be gone. See Sussex how he bleeds in my eye, That bears Fortune's shock triumphantly. Good cheer sir David, we shall up anon. Lluellen set try brother free, Let me have him, thou thalt have Elinor. I will have time to be aduizd. B Like you will condition with us then. Command retreat be sounded in our camp, Soldiers I grant at full what you request, David good cheer, Lluellen open the gates. Madam, a brabble well begun for thee, Be thou my guest, and sir Lluellens love. Mortimor, a brabble ill began for thee, A truce with capital conditions taken: A prisoner saved and raunsomd with thy life, Edward my king, my Lord and lover deer, Full little dost thou wot, how this retreat. As with a sword, hath slain poor Mortimor. Farewell the flower the gem of beauty's blaze, Sweet Ellen, mir cle of nature's and, Fuellen in thy name, but heaven is in thy looks, Sweet Venus let me S ct or devil be, In that sweet heaven or hell that is in thee, Hearts sweet Nell, shrow no hearts, Where such sweet saints do dwell Joan ask thy beauteous Mistress how she doth. Come hither Joan, knowest thou what ails my Queen? Nay wench if that be as weel ear it well, What all a mort how does my dainty Nell? Look up sweet love, unkind, not kiss me once? That may not be. Sweet heart one kiss. Sweet heart a kiss. I must be better chid. Why so this chare is charde. No harm that does my Elinor any good. Learn lords gainst you be married men to bow to woe men's yoke: And sturdy though you be you may not stir for every stroke: Now my sweet Nell how does my Queen? By Jesu fair Lords ere many days be passed, England shall give this Robin Hood his breakefall. David, be secret friend to that I say, And if I use thy skill thou knowest the way. Where this proud Robin and his yeomen room. We thank them all, and will present our Q with these courtesies and presents bestowed on her young Son, and greatly account you for our friends. My word is pall I am well agreed, Let men's beards milt and women's bosoms bleed. Call forth my Barbers, Lords weel first begin. Come si ra cut me close unto the chin, And und me even seest thou by a dish, not a lo ke y Queen ene shall have her wish. And well said Nell. What wilt thou I set down for thee? 10000 pounds my Nell. Thanks worthy Lords, And seeing by doom of heavens it is decreed, And lawful line of our succession, Unworthy Edward is become your king, We take it as a blessing from on High, And will our Coronation be solemnized, Upon the 14. of December next. Madam I commend your composition, And argument of your honourable disposition: Sweet Nell thou shouldst not be thy self, Did not with thy mounting mind, Thy gift surmount the rest. How say you Welshmen, will you leave your arms, And be true liegemen unto Edwards crown? What ails my Nell? My lovely Lady let that care be less, For my young son the country will I feast: And have him born as bravely to the sunt; As ever yet Kings son to Christening went. Lack thou no precious thing to comfort thee, De rear then England's Diadem unto me. Gramercis Barons for your gifts and good wills, by this means my boy shall wear a Mantle of cun tries weaving to keep him warm, and live for England's honour and Cambria's good, I shall not need I trust cur teously to invite you, I doubt not Lords but you will be all in readiness to wait on your young Prince and do him honour at his christening. Well said Dam. thou couldst not be a Camber Britain If thou didst not love a soldier with thy heart, Let me see how is my Arithmetic wilserue, To total the par ars. Welshman allegiance which thou owest thy king. Bear it brave mind, sith nothing but thy blood, May satisfy in this extreme estate. Nobles of Scotland, we thank you all, For this days gentle princely service done, To Edward England's king and Scotland's lord: Our Coronations endue sollen nitie, Is ended with applause of all estates. Now then let us appose and rest us here, But specially we thank you gentle lords, That you so well have governed your g eefes, As being grown unto a ag all are, You choose king Edward by your Messengers, To calm, to qualify, and to compound: Thank Britain's strife of Scotland's climbing peers. I have no doubt fair lords but you well wot, How factions waste the ritchest Commonwealth, And discord spoils the seats of mighty kings. The Barons wars, a tragic wicked war, Nobles how hath I shaken England's strength? Industriously it seems to me you have, Loyally ventured to prevent this shock, For which sith you have chosen me your judge, My lord, will you stand to what I shall awe rd? Then nobles since you all agree in one, That for a crown so disagree in all, Since what I do shall rest inreuocable, And lovely England to thy lovely Queen, Lovely Queen Elinor, unto her turn thy eye, Whose honour cannot but love thee well, Hold up your hands in sighed, with general voice, That are content to stand to our award. Deliver me the golden Diadem. Lo here I hold the goal for which you strived, And here behold my worthy men at arms, For chivalry and worthy wisdoms praise, Worthy each one to wear a Diadem, Expect my doom, as erst at I Dam hills, The Goddesses divine waited the award, Of Danaes son: Balliol stand farthest forth, Balliol behold I give thee the Scottish crown, Wear it with heart and with thankfulness: Found Trumpets, and say all after me, God save king Balliol the Scottish king. Thus lords though you require no reason why, According to the consci nce in the cause, I make John Balliol your anointed king: Honour and love him as behooves him best, That is in peace of Scotland's crown possessed. I madame very well Now Robin of the wood, alias Robin Hood, be it known to your worship by these presents, that the Longshankes which you aim at, have brought the king of England into these mountains, to use Lluellen, and to crack a his man that supposeth him self Prince of ales. What I dare thou seest, what I can perform thou shalt shortly know, I think thee a Gentleman, and therefore hold no scorn to fight with thee. Halloe Edward how are thy senses confoun dead, what Davy is it possible thou shouldst be false to England? Now trothles King what fruits have bram ving boasts, What end hath Treason but a sudden fallen? Such as have known thy life and bringing up, Have praised thee for thy learning and thy art, How comes it then that thou forgettest thy books, That schooled thee to forgetingratitude, Unkind, this hand hath no ted thee a king, This tongue pronounced the sentence of thy ruth, If thou in we of mine unfeigned love, Hast levied arms for to attempt my crown, Now see thy fruits, thy glories are dispea st, And his, for Like sith thou hast passed thy bounds, Thy slurdie neck must stoop to bear this yoke. Why what remains for Balliol now to give? What league of fa where league is broken once? But foolish are those Monarchs that do yield A conquered Realm upon submissive vows. I fit that was the choicest plea of both, For who so quels the pomp of haughty winds. And breaks their S fe, whereon they built their trust, wanting power they carry not harm. shall live, but yet within sum bounds, That if his wings grow ig, they may be clipped: Thanks Messenger, and if my God vouchsafe That winged Honour wait upon my throne, I'll ache her her plum bes upon their heads, Whose true all egeance does confirm the Crown, What news in Wales how wends our business there? A harmful w ede by wisdom rooted out, C n never hurt the true ingratted plant, But whats the news Sir Thomas Spencer brings? Sweet Queen sinking is a taken Of pride, wherewith thy men did swell, A dangerous mal die in the heart to dwe l. Lords march we towards London now in ast, I will go see my lou lie Elinor, And continued fort her after this strange ffright, And where she is importune to have talk, And secret conference with some Friars of France, Must thou with me and I with thee will go, And take the sweet confession of my Nell, We will h we French enough to p rlee with the Quee Messenger High thee back to Shrewsbury. Bid Mortimor thy master speed him fast, And with his fortune welcome us to London, I long to see my beauteous lovely Queen. So sir your moderation is enfor to, Your goodly gloss cannot make it good, brother I am resolved and go I will If God iue life, and cheer my dying Queen, Why Must, why man, what ere King Edward heats, It lies in God and him to pardon all. I'll have no ghos lie Father's out of France, England hath learned Clerks and Confessors, To comfort and absolve as m n may do, And isle be ghos lie Father for this once. Dominus vobiscum. What cause hath moved your royal Majesty, To call your servants from their countries bounds? For to attend your pleasure here in England's court? The nearer Elinor, so the greatest hope of health, And dame to us for to impart your quiet. Who by our prayers and counsel ought to arm, Aspiring souls to scale the heavenly grace. Madam you needs not dread our conference, Who by the order of the holy Church, Are all anointed to sacred secrecy. Be silent, follow Friar. 'Tis charity in men of my degree, To sorrow for our neighbours heinous sins: And Madam, though some promise love to you, And zeal to Edmund brother to the King, I pray the Heavens you both may soon repent. But might it please your Highness to proce de, Unto this sin a worse does succeed. Blushing I shut they thine inti king lamps, The wanton baits that make me suck my bane, hardened slames did never refl ct, More hideous slames then from my breast arise, What fault more vild unto thy dearest Lord? Our daughter base begotten of a Priest, And Ned my brother partner of my love, O that those eyes that lightened Caesars brain, O that those looks that mastered Phucebus brand, Or else those looks that stain Melisa's far, Should shrine discreet desire and lawless lust, Unhappy King dishonoured in thy stock, Hence feigned weeds, unfeigned is my grief. Sir fir, fain would your highness hide your faults, By cunning vows and glossing terms of Art, And well thou mayest delude these listening ears, Yet never allwage by proof this jealous heart, Traitor thy head shall ransom my disgrace, Daughter of darkness, whose accursed bower, The Poet feigned to live upon Avernus's, Whereas Cimerians darkness checks the Sun, David's jealousy afflict me not so soar, Fair Queen Elinor could never be so false, I but she vowed these treasons at her death, A time not fit to fashion monstrous lies, Ah my ungrateful brother as thou art, Could not my love, nay more could not the law, Nay further, could not nature thee allure, For to refrain from this incestuous sin, Hast from my sighed, call Joan of Acon here, The lukewarm spring distilling from his eyes, His oaths, his vows, his reasons rested with remorse, From forth his breast empoisoned with suspect. Fain would I deem that false I find too true. I come to know what England's King commands, I wonder why your Highness greets me thus. With strange regard and unacquainted terms. The Queen is dead, yet Joan lament not thou, Poor soul guiltless art thou of this deceit, That ath more cause to curse then to complain. I daughter Joan, poor soul thou art deceived, The King of England is no scorned Priest. I but when Ladies list to run as ray, The poor supposed father wears the horn, And pl ating leave their Liege in Princes laps, Jone thou art daughter to a lecherous Friar, A Friar was thy father hapless Joan, Thy mother in profession vows no less, And I vild wretch which sorrowed hard no less, Oh some oh Dio come I gum dneo humans, Spesse offuscan son danu membo oscunro, Hapless and wretched, lift up thy heavy Nurse not so much as Thy unhappy chance, Unconstant Fortune still will have her course. Revive thee hapless Lady grieve not thus, In vain speak I for she revives no more, Poor hapless soul thy own espected mones, Hath wrought her sudden and untimely death. Lords, Ladies hast, ah Gloucester a to thou come, Then must I now present a Tragedy, Thy Joan is dead, yet grieve thou not her fallen, She was too base a spouse for such a Prince. Gloucester thy King is partner of thy heaviness, Although nor tongue nor eyes bewray his mean, For I have lost a flower as fair as thine, A love more deer, For Elinor is dead, But since the heaven lie ordinance decrees, That all things change in their prefixed time, Be thou content and bear it in thy breast, Thy swelling grief as needs I must mine, Thy Joan of Acon and my Queen deceased, Shall have that Honour as beseems their state. You peers of England, see in ro all pomp, These bodies be entombed straight With tried colours covered all with black, Let Spanish steeds as swift as sleeting wind, Convey these Princes to their funeral, Before them let a hundred mourners ride, In every time of their enforste abode, Rear up a cross in token of their work, Whereon fair Elinors picture shall be placed, Arrived at London near our Pallas bounds, Inter my lovely Elinor late deceased, And in remembrance of her royalty, Erect a rich and stately carved Cross, Whereon her stature shall with glory shine, And hence forth see you call it Charing cross, For why the chancest and the choicest Queen, That ever did delight my royal eyes, Their dwell in darkness while I die in grief, But soft, what tidings with these Purciuants? How one at fliction calls another over, First death torments me, then I feel disgrace, Again Lluellen he rebels in Wales, And false Balliol means to brave me to, But I will find provision for them all, My continued shall conquer death and shame, And Mortimor 'tis thou must hast to wales, And rous that Rebel from his starting holes, And rid thy King of his contentions foe. While I with Elinor, Gloucester, and the rest, With speedy journey gather up our force, And Beatrice these braving Scots from out our bounds, Courage brave Soldiers fates hath done their worst, Now Virtue let me triumph in Ah Joan this wonder needs must wound thy breast, For it hath well nigh slain my wretched heart.