Mirror for Magistrates, Volume 2, Part 2

Great Britain -- History -- Poetry; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 -- Sources
Vpon that man, whom fortune doth begin
        To leaue forlorne, who will not seeme to frowne?
        When he is sunken vp vnto the chin
        In waues of sad distresse, all thrust him downe,
        And suffer him in wretchednesse to drowne:
          They that did enuie my great state before,
          Did wish such state might nere betide me more.

    70.

        Ambitious _Iohn_, and _Philip_ that false king,
        Taking the time to perfect their intent,
        To _Henrie_ did a golden message wing,
        In hope if he to set me free was bent,
        Such purpose with corruption to preuent:
          Which when with terror stricken I did heare,
          No hope I had, no comfort did appeare.

    71.

        Ignoble age, branded with this foule crime,
        This blemish thou canst neuer wipe away:
        When true record shall tell to future time,
        How most vniust the christian did repay
        His backe returne, that did through death assay,
          Gainst paganisme t’aduance the christian name,
          Euen children shall vpbraid thee with the same.

    72.

        In tempest of this trouble long being tost,
        Sore grieu’d in mind for my captiuitie,
        At length compounding with my greedie host
        Th’emperour _Henrie_, hight of Germanie,
        With ransome to redeeme my libertie:
          An hundred thousand pounds I did agree
          To giue to him before I could be free.

    73.

        Now is my iourney set on foot againe
        For my deare England: now false _Philip_ stormes,
        Now _Iohn_ repents, and feare doth him constraine,
        In peace to lay downe his rebellious armes,
        And by our mother seeke to shun those harmes
          Approching on: t’whom I in reuerence
          Of her estate, gaue pardon for his offence.

    74.

        In England safe arriu’d, the people greet
        My glad returne with bright bone-fires and bels,
        My royall London in each seuerall street,
        By her large gifts and golden glorie tels
        Within her walles what faithfull subiects dwels:
          And I, in hope that heau’n would blesse my reigne
          With better fortunes, crown’d my selfe againe.

    75.

        But on the swift wings of reuenge for France,
        Hasten thy muse to Vernuile that strong towne,
        There see French _Philip_ flie before my lance,
        And at Vandosme how his armes cast downe,
        He flies, and leaues vs treasure and renowne:
          Of which two flights, this age doth since that time
          To his disgrace record a shamefull rime.

    76.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Mirror for Magistrates, Volume 2, Part 2

No reviews yet
