Part 5 (1/2)

_NEW ENGLAND_

And thus (alas) your state you eneral terms, but will not say wherefore; What erous I hess it out, What hath soist like that Saxon stout, By fraud or force usurp'd thy flow'ring crown, Or by tempestuous warrs thy fields trod down?

Or hath Canutus, that brave valiant Dane, The Regal peacefull Scepter from the tane?

Or is't a Norlish blood bedews thy conquered land?

Or is't Intestine warrs that thus offend?

Do Maud and Stephen for the crown contend?

Do Barons rise and side against their King, And call in foreign aid to help the thing?

Must Edward be deposed? or is't the hour That second Richard ain begun That fro?

Must Richmond's aid, the nobles now implore, To come and break the Tushes of the Boar?

If none of these, dear Mother, what's your woe?

Pray do you fear Spain's bragging Armado?

Doth your Allye, fair France, conspire your wrack, Or do the Scots play false behind your back?

Doth Holland quit you ill for all your love?

Whence is the storht, is't famine, or is't pestilence, Dost feel the smart or fear the Consequence?

Your huh Arms nor Purse she hath for your relief, Such is her poverty; yet shall be found A Suppliant for your help, as she is bound

_OLD ENGLAND_

I must confess, some of those sores you nan foe, nor feigned friend I fear, For they have work enough, (thou knowst) elsewhere

Nor is it Alce's Son nor Henrye's daughter, Whose proud contention cause this slaughter; Nor nobles siding to ; No Edward, Richard, to lose rule and life, Nor no Lancastrians to renew old strife; No Duke of York nor Earl of March to soyle Their hands in kindred's blood whom they did foil

No crafty Tyrant now usurps the Seat, Who Nephews slew that so he reat; No need of Tudor Roses to unite, None knohich is the Red or which the White; Spain's braving Fleet a second time is sunk, France kno oft my fury she hath drunk; By Edward third, and Henry fifth of fame Her Lillies in mine Arms avouch the sah she hath been injurious heretofore; What Holland is I am in some suspence, But trust not much unto his excellence

For wants, sure some I feel, but more I fear, And for the Pestilence, who kno near Faue, two Sisters of the Sword, Destruction to a Land doth soon afford

They're for h, Unless our tears prevent it speedily

But yet I answer not what you derievance of my troubled Land?

Before I tell the Effect I'le shew the Cause, Which are my sins, the breach of sacred Laws, Idolatry, supplanter of a nation, With foolish Superstitious Adoration, Are liked and countenanced by ht; Church offices were sold and bought for gain, That Pope had hoped to find Roain; For Oaths and Blasphee hear?

What scorning of the saints of the h, What injuries did daily on them lye, What false reports, what nick-names did they take Not for their own but for their Master's sake?

And thou, poor soul, wert jeer'd a for the truth was , and for drunkenness, Did ever loud profanenessblood yet cleansed a causelessly

How ht but title to a fading crown!

'Mongst all the crueltyes by great ones done, Of Edward's youths, and Clarence hapless son, O Jane, why didst thou dye in flow'ring prime?

Because of royal stem, that was thy crime

For bribery, Adultery and lyes, Where is the nation I can't parallize?

With usury, extortion and oppression, These be the Hydraes of ression

These be the bitter fountains, heads and roots, Whence flowed the source, the sprigs, the boughs, and fruits, Of h hand I still did perpetrate; For these were threatened the woful day I mockt the Preachers, put it far away; The Sermons yet upon Record do stand That cri'd destruction to my wicked land; I then believed not, now I feel and see, The plague of stubborn incredulity

Sos, some in prison pent, Some fin'd froues to heaven did vengeance cry, Who saw their wrongs, and hath judg'd righteously, And will repay it seven fold in my lap; This is forerunner of hbors' falls, I saw sad Germany's dismantled walls, I saw her people famish'd, nobles slain, The fruitful land a barren Heath remain

I saw immov'd her Armyes foil'd and fled, Wives forc'd, babes toss'd, her houses cali Rochel yielded to her Foe, Thousands of starved Christians there also I saw poor Ireland bleeding out her last, Such crueltyes as all reports have passed; Mine heart obdurate stood not yet aghast

Now sip I of that cup, and just't s reserved are for me

NEW ENGLAND

To all you've said, sad Mother, I assent, Your fearful sins great cause there's to lauilty hands in part, hold up with you, A Sharer in your punishment's my due