MOWBRAY

Each day still better others happiness, Until the heavens envying earth's good hap, Add and immortal title to your Crown. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal, 'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, The bitter clamour of two eager tongues Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain, The blood is hight that must be cold for this, Yet can I not of such tame patience boast, As to be huisht, and nought at all to say. First the fair reverence of your Highness curbs me, From giving reins and spurts to my free speech, Which else would post until it had eturnd, These terms of treason doubled down his throat: Setting aside his high bloods royalty, And let him be no kinsman to my Liege, I do defy him, and I spit at him, Call him a slanderous coward, and a villain, Which to maintain, I would allow him ods, And meet him were I tied to run afoot, Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, Or any other ground inhabitable, Where over Englishman durst set his foot, Mean time, let this defend my loyalty, By all my Hope's most falsely does he lie. I take it up, and by that sword I swear, Which gently laid my Knighthood on my shoulder, I'll answer thee in any fai e degree, Oh chivalrous design of knightly trial: And when I mount, alive may I not light, If I be traitor or unjustly fight. My self I throw dread soon reign at thy foot, My life thou shalt command, but not my shame, The one my duty owes, To dark dish ours use thou shalt not have: I am disgraste, impeached, and b ffuld here, Pierced to the soul with Slanders venomed spear, The which no balm can cure but his heart blood Which breathed this poison. Then thus I turn me from my c untries light, To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. And I, to keep all this. No Bullingbrook, if ever I were traitor, My name be blotted from the book of life, And I from heaven banished as from hence: But what thou art, God, that u, and I, do know, And all too soon (I fear) the King shall rew: Farewell (my Liege) now no way can I stray, Save back to England all the world's my way. O let reign turn away his face, And bid his ears a while be deaf, Till I have told this slander of his blood, How God and good men hate so foul a liar. Then Bullingbrook as low to thy heart Through the false passage of thy throat thou liest, Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais, Disbursed I duly to his highness soldiers, The other partly reserude I by consent, For that my souera gne liege was in my debt. Upon remainder of a deer account: Since last I went to France to fetch his Queen: Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucesters death, I slew him not but to my own disgrace, Neglected my sworn duty in that case: For you my noble Lord of Lancaster, The honourable father to my foe, Once did I lay and ambush for your life, A trespass that does vex my grieved soul: Ah but ere I last receiude the Sacrament, I did confess it, and exactly begged Your graces pardon, and I hope I had it. This is my fault, as for the rest appealed It issues from the rancour of a villain, A recreant and most degenerate traitor, Which in my self I bodily will defend, And enterchangeably hurl down my gage Upon this over weening traitors foot, To prove my self a loyal Gentleman Even in the best blood chamberd in his bosom, In haste whereof most heartily I pray Your highness to assign our trial day. Yea but not change his spots: take but my shame, And I resign my gage, my deer deer Lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford, Is spotless Reputation that away Men are but guilded loam, or painted clay. A jewel in a ten times barred up chest, Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast: Mine honour is my life, both grow in one, Take honour from me, and my life is done: Then (deer my Liege) mine honour let me try. In that I live, and for that will I die. How ever God or Fortune cast my lot, There lives or die true to King Richard's thron , A loyal, joust, and upright Gentleman: Never did captive with a freer heart Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace His golden uncontrolled enfranchisement, More than my dancing soul does celebrate This feast of battle with mine adversary, Most mighty Liege, and my companion Peers, Take from my mouth the wish of happy years, As gentle, and as jocund as to jest Go I to fight, truth hath a quiet bre to. A beauy sentence, my most sovereign Liege, And all unlooked for from your Highness mouth, A dearer merit not so deep a maim, As to be cast foe that in the common air Have I deserved at your Highness hands: The language I have learned these forty years, My native English now I must forgo, And now my tongues use is to me, no more Than and unstringed viol or a harp, Or Like a cunning instrument cased up, Or being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tu e the harmony: ithin my mouth you have engaoid my tongue, Doubly portcullist with my teeth and lips, And dull unfeeling barren ignorance Is made my Gam ler to attend on me: I am too old to fawn upon a nu see, Too far in years to be a pupil now, What is thy sentence but speechless death? Which robs my tongue from b eathing native breath, My name is Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk, Who hither come engaged by my oath, (Which God defend a Knight shou worser violate) Both to defend my loyalty and to uth, To God, my King, and my succeeding S we Against the Duke of Herford that appeals me. And by the grace of God, and this m ne a me, To prove him in defending of my self, A traitor to my God, my King, and me, And as I truly fight, defend me heaven.