TO THE READER.

Promise is debt (gentle Reader) I have therefore performed what in my first part I promised; which was to shew thee the unfortunate death of the Red Rose Knight, his beloved Lady Anglitora's disloyall affection towards him, his Childrens Honours, Renownes, and Dignities: and in the period of this Historie his death both justly, truly and strangely revenged. The Reading of which (if with good consideration) I doubt not but shall bring unto thee much pleasure and delight, being (for the quantity thereof) nothing inferiour to the best that hath been written of the like subject, (I meane) of Knights adventures and Ladies beloved. I therefore dedicate this to thy reason, knowing that this old Proverbe may confirme my expectation, which is, That good Wine needs no Bush; nor a pleasing History craues no shelter. Farewell.

R. J.

THE SECOND PART OF THE FAMOUS HISTORY

OF TOM A LINCOLNE, THE RED

ROSE KNIGHT, &c.

CHAP. I.

How Tom a Lincolne knew not his mother till forty yeares of his age nor whose son he was: Of King Arthur's death, and his dying speeches, and what hapned thereupon.

WHEN Arthur, that renowned King of England, (being one of the Nine Worthies of the World,) had by twelve severall set battailys, conquered the third part of the earth, and being wearyed with the exploytes of martiall adventures, in his old dayes betooke himselfe to a quiet course of life, turning his warlike habiliaments to divine bookes of celestiall meditations; that as the one had made him famous in this world, so might the other make him blessed in the world to come. Seven yeares continued quiet thoughts in his brest; seven yeares never heard hee the sound of delightfull drummes; nor in seven yeares beheld he his thrice worthy Knights of the Round Table, flourishing in his Court; by which

meanes his pallace grew disfurnished of those martiall troopes that drew commendations from all forraigne kingdomes. In this time most of those renowned champions had yielded their lives to the conquering tyranny of pale Death, and in the bowells of the earth lay sleeping their eternall sleepes; the royall king himselfe laden with the honour of many yeares, and having now according to nature) the burthen of death lying heavie upon his shoulders, and the stroke lifted up to divide his body from his soule, hee called before him all the chiefest of his Court, but especially his owne Queene, the Red Rose Knight, and his Lady Anglitora, with the faire Angelica, the Nunne of Lincolne, whom hee had so many yeares secretly loved; and being at the point to bid a woful farewell to the world, with countenance as majesticall as King Priam of Troy, he spake as followeth :

First, to thee my loved Queene, must I utter the secrets of my very soule, and what wanton escapes I have made from my nuptiall bed, otherwise cannot this my labouring life depart from my fading body in quiet; long have I lived in the delightful sin of adultery, and polluted our marriage bed with that vile pleasure, pardon, I beseech thee, and with that forgivenesse (which I hope will proceed from thy gentle heart), wash away this long bred evil, the celestiall powers have granted me remission. Then turning to Angelica, the Nunne of Lincolne, he said,

Oh, thou my youth's delight, thou whose love bath

bereaved my queene of such marriage pleasure, thou, and but only thou, have I offended withall; therefore, divine Angelica, forgive me: I, like a ravisher, spotted thy virginity, I cropt thy sweet body of chastity, I with flattery won thy heart, and led thee from thy father's house, (the great Earl of London) to feede my wanton desires; by thee had I a sonne, of whom both thou and I take glory of, for in his worthiness remains the true image of a martialist, and this renowned Knight of the Red Rose is he: hee lives: the fruit of our wanton pleasures born at Lincoln, and there by a shepherd brought up, few knowing (till now) his true parents. Marvaile not, dear sonne, thinke not amisse sweet Queen, nor thou my lovely Angelica: Be not dismayed you honorable states here attending my dying hour, for as I hope presently to enter Elysium Paradise, and weare the crowne of desertful glory, I have revealed the long secrets of my heart, and truely brought to light those things that the darkness of oblivion hath covered. Now the mother knows her son, the son the mother. Now may this valiant knight boast of his pedigree, and a quiet content satisfie all your doubts. Thus have I spoke my mind, and thus quieted, my soul bids the world farewell. Adue, faire queene, adue deare son, farewell lovely Angelica; Lords and Ladies adue unto you all, you have seene my life, so now behold my death; as kings doe live, so kings must die. These were the last of King Arthur's words; and being dead, his death not half so amazed the standers by, as the strange speeches at his life's farewell.