Death (as tis sayd) doth set all things _Mirror for Magistrates, Volume 2, Part 1

Which fell not so in mine vnhappy case:

For since my death, mine enmies made a jest

In minstrel’s rymes, mine honour to deface:

And then to bring my name in more disgrace,

A song was made in manner of a laye,

Which olde wiues sing of mee vnto this day.[691]

24.

Yet with these spites theyr malice could not end,

For shortly after, my sorrowes to renue,

My loyall lord, which neuer did offend,

Was calde in haste, the cause hee litle knew,

To a parliament, without sommons due,

Whereas his death was cruelly contriued,

And I, his wife, of earthly ioyes depriued.

25.

For all the while my duke had life and breath,

So long I stoode in hope of my restore:

But when I heard of his most causles death,

Then the best salue for my recureless sore

Was to despayre of cure for euermore,

And as I could, my carefull heart to cure

With pacience, most paynfull to endure.

26.

O traytors fell, which in your heartes could find,

Like feendes of hell, the guiltles to betray,

But yee chiefly his kinsmen most vnkinde,

Which gaue consent to make him so away,

That vnto God, with all my heart I pray,

Vengeaunce may light on him that caused all,

_Beaufort_, I meane, that cursed cardinall.

27.

Which bastard priest of th’house[692] of _Lancaster_,

Sonne to duke _Iohn_, surnamed _Iohn of Gaunt_,

Was first create byshop of _Winchester_,

For no learning whereof hee might well vaunt,

Ne for vertue, which hee did neuer haunt,

But for his gold and sommes that were not small,

Payde to the pope, was made a cardinall.

28.

Proud _Lucifer_, which from the heauens on high

Downe to the pit of hell belowe was cast,

And being once an aungell bright in sky,

For his high pride in hell is chained fast

In deepe darknes that euermore shall last,

More hawt of heart was not before his fall,

Then was this proud and pompous cardinall:

29.

Whose life, good _Baldwine_, paynt out in his pickle,

And blase this _Baal_ and belligod most blinde,

An hypocrite, all faythles, false, and fickle,

A wicked wretch, a kinsman most vnkind,

A deuill incarnat, all deuishly enclinde,

And (to discharge my conscience all at once)

The deuill him gnawe, both body, bloud, and bones.

30.

The spitefull prieste would needes make mee a witch,

As would to God I had beene for his sake,

I would haue claw’d him where hee did not itche,

I would haue playde the lady of the lake,

And as _Merline_ was, cloasde him in a brake,

Ye a meridian to lul him by day light,

And a night mare to ride on him by night.

31.

The fiery feends with feuers hot and frenzy,

The ayery heggs with stench and carren sauoures,

The watry ghostes with gowtes and with dropsy,

The earthy goblines, with aches at all houres,

Furyes and fayryes, with all infernall powers,

I would haue stir’d from the darke dungeon

Of hell centre, as deepe as demagorgon.

32.

Or had I now the skill of dame _Erichto_,

Whose dreadfull charmes (as _Lucan_ doth expresse)

All feendes did feare, so far forth as prince _Pluto_,

Was at her call for dread of more distresse,

Then would I send of helhoundes more and lesse

A legion at least, at him to cry and yel,

And with that chyrme, herrie him downe to hell.

33.

Which neede not, for sure I thinke that hee

Who here in earth leades _Epicurus’_ life,

As farre from God as possible may be,

With whome all sinne and vices are most rife,

Using at will both widdow, mayde, and wife,

But that some deuill his body doth possesse,

His life is such as men can iudge no lesse.

34.

And God forgieue my wrath and wreakefull minde,

Such is my hate to that most wicked wretch,

Dye when hee shall, in heart I could well finde

Out of the graue his corps agayne to fetch,

And racke his limmes as long as they would stretch,

And take delight to listen euery day

How hee could sing a masse of welaway.

35.

The ile of _Man_ was the apoynted place

To penaunce mee for euer in exile,

Thither in haste they poasted mee apace,

And douting scape, they pind mee in a pyle,

Close by my selfe in care, alas, the while,

There felt I first poore prysoner’s hungry fare,

Much want, thinges skant, and stone walles harde and bare.

36.

The chaunge was straunge, from sylke and cloth of gold

To rugged fryze my carcas for to cloath,

From prince’s fare, and daynties hot and cold,

To rotten fish, and meates that one would loath,

The diet and dressing were much alike boath,

Bedding and lodging were all alike fine,

Such downe it was as serued well for swyne.

37.

Neyther doe I myne owne case thus complayne,

Which I confesse came partly by desert:

The only cause which doubleth all my payne,

And which most neere goeth now vnto my hearte,

Is that my fault did finally reuert

To him that was least guilty of the same,

Whose death it was, though I abode the shame.

38.

Whose fatall fall when I doe call to minde,

And how by mee his mischiefe first began,

So ofte I cry on fortune most vnkinde,

And my mishap most vtterly doe banne,

That euer I to such a noble man,

Who from my crime was innocent and cleare,

Should bee a cause to buy his loue so deare.

39.

Oh, to my heart how greeuous is the wounde,

Calling to minde this dismall deadly case:

I would I had beene doluen vnder ground

When hee first saw or looked on my face,

Or tooke delight in any kinde of grace

Seeming in mee, that him did stir or moue

To fancy mee, or set his heart to loue.

40.

Farewell, _Greenewych_, my pallace of delight,

Where I was wont to see the christall streames

Of royall _Thames_, most plesaunt to my sight:

And farewell, _Kent_, right famous in all realmes,

A thousand times I minde you in my dreames,

And when I wake most griefe it is to mee,

That neuer more agayne I shall you see.[693]

41.

In the night time when I should take my rest

I weepe, I wayle, I weat my bed with teares,

And when dead sleape my spirites hath opprest,

Troubled with dreames I fantazy vayne feares,

Myne husband’s voyce then ringeth at mine eares,

Crying for help: “O saue mee from the death,

These vilaynes here doe seeke to stop my breath.”

42.

Yea, and sometimes mee thinkes his drery ghost

Appeares in sight, and shewes mee in what wise

Those fell tyraunts with torments had emboost

His winde and breath, to abuse people’s eyes,

So as no doubt or question should arise

Among rude folke, which litle vnderstand,

But that his death came only by God’s hand.

43.

I playne in vayne, where eares bee none to heare,

But roring seas, and blustring of the winde,

And of redresse am near a whit the neere,

But with waste wordes to feede my mournfull minde,

Wishing full oft the _Parcas_ had vntwinde

My vitall stringes, or _Atropose_ with knife

Had cut the lyne of my most wretched life.

44.

Oh that _Neptune_, and _Æolus_ also,

Th’one god of seas, the other of weather,

Ere mine arriuall into that ile of woe,

Had sunke the ship wherein I sayled thether,

(The shipmen saued) so as I together

With my good duke, might haue beene deade afore

Fortune had wroken her wrath on vs so sore.

45.

Or els that God, when my first passage was

Into exile along Saynt _Albon’s_ towne,

Had neuer let mee further for to passe,

But in the streete with death had strucke mee downe:

Then had I sped of my desired bowne,

That my poore corps mought there haue lien with his

Both in one graue, and so haue gone to blisse.

46.

But I, alas, the greater is my greefe,

Am past that hope to haue my sepulture

Nere vnto him, which was to mee most leefe,

But in an ile and country most obscure,

To pyne in payne whilst my poore life will dure,

And being dead, all honourlesse to lye

In simple graue, as other poore that dye.

47.

My tale is tolde, and time it is to ceasse

Of troubles past, all which haue had theyr end:

My graue I trust shall purchase mee such peace[694]

In such a world, where no wight doth contend

For higher place, whereto all flesh shall wend:

And so I end, vsing one word for all

As I began, that pryde will haue a fall.

Quod G. F.[695]

[“Svrely,” sayd one of the company, “this lady hath done much

to moue the hearers to pitye her, and hath very well knit vp

her[696] tragedy according to the beginning: but I meruayl much

where shee learned all this poetry touched in her tale, for in

her dayes learning was not common, but a rare thing, namely in

women.” “Yes,” quod Maister _Ferrers_, “that might shee very well

learne of the duke her husband, who was a prince so excellently

learned, as the like of his degree was no where to bee founde.

And not only so, but was also a patron to poets and orators,

much like as _Mecenas_ was in the time of _Augustus Cæsar_. This

duke was founder of the diuinity schole in _Oxford_, whereas he

caused _Aristotle’s_ workes to bee translated out of Greeke into

Latin, and caused many other thinges to bee done for aduauncement

of learning, hauing alwayes learned men nere about him, no

meruayl therefore though the duchesse brought some pece away.”

“Mee-thinke,” quod another, “shee passeth boundes of a ladye’s

modesty, to inuey so cruelly against the cardinall _Beaufort_.”

“Not a whit,” quod another, “hauing such cause as shee had, and

somwhat ye must beare with women’s passions. Therefore leaue wee

her to eternall rest, and let vs heare what Maister _Ferrers_

will say for the duke her husband, whose case was the more

lamentable, in that hee suffered without cause. And surely though

the cardinall against nature was the duke’s mortall foe, yet

the chiefe causers of his confusion was the queene and _William

Delapoole_, earle of _Suffolke_, and afterwardes duke, whose

counsayle was chiefly followed in the contriuing of this noble

man’s destruction. Shee through ambition to haue soueraynty and

rule, and hee through flattery to purchase honour and promotion,

which as hee in short time obtayned, so in as short time he lost

agayne, and his life withall by the iust iudgement of God,

receiuing such measure as he before met to this good prince. This

drift of his turned to the vtter ouerthrowe of the king himselfe,

the queene his wife, and _Edward_ theyr son a most goodly prince,

and to the subuersion of the whole house of _Lancaster_, as you

may see at large in the cronicles: but now let vs heare what the

duke will say.”]

Howe _Hvmfrey Plantagenet_ Duke of Glocester

Protector of England, during the minority

of his nephue King _Henry_ the sixt,

(commonly called the good Duke)

by practise of enemyes was

brought to confusion.

As highest hilles with tempestes beene most touched,

And tops of trees most subiect vnto winde,

And as great towers with stone strongly cowched,

Haue heauy falles when they be vndermynde,

Euen so by proofe in worldly thinges wee finde,

That such as clime the top of high degree

From perill of falling neuer can bee free.

To proue this true, good _Baldwine_, hearken hyther,

See, and behold mee vnhappy _Humfrey_,[697]

_England’s_ protector and duke of _Glocester_,

Who in the time of the sixt king _Henry_,

Ruled this realme yeares moe then twenty:

Note well the cause of my decay and fall,

And make a myrour for magistrates all.[698]

In theyr moste weale to beware of vnhap,[699]

And not to sleepe in slumbring sickernes,

Whilst fortune false doth lul them in her lap

Drowned in dreames of brittle blessednesse,

But then to feare her freakes and ficklenesse

Accompting still the higher they ascend,

More nigh to bee to daunger in the end.

And that vayne trust in bloud or royall race,

Abuse them not with careles assuraunce[700]

To trust fortune,[701] but waying well my case,

When shee most smyleth to haue in remembraunce[702]

My sodayne fall, who in all apparaunce[703]

Hauing most stayes which man[704] in state mayntayne,

Haue found the same vntrusty and most vayne.

Better then I none may the same affirme,[705]

Who trusting all in height of high estate,

Led by the eares with false flatterie’s chyrme,[706]

Which neuer prince could banish from his gate,

Did litle thinke on such a sodayne mate,

Not heeding, lesse breeding, all vnaware,

By foes least feared was trapt in a snare.

If noble byrth or high autority,

Nombre of friendes, kinred, or alliaunce,

If wisedome, learning, [or] worldly pollicy,

Mought haue beene stayers to fortune’s variaunce,

None stoode more strong, in worldly countenaunce,

For all these helpes had I to auayle mee,

And yet in fine, all the same did fayle mee.[707]

Of king _Henry_ the fourth,[708] fourth sonne I was,

Brother to _Henry_, the fift of that name,[709]

And uncle to _Henry_ the sixt,[710] but, alas,

What cause had I to presume on[711] the same?

Or for vayne glory, aduauncing my[712] fame

My selfe to call in recordes and writinges,

The sonne, brother, and vncle vnto kinges.

This was my boast, which lastly was my bane,

Yet not this boast was it that brought me downe:

The very cause which made my weale to wane

So neere of kin that I was to the crowne,

That was the rock that made my ship to drowne

A rule there is not fayling, but most sure,

Kingdome no kin doth know, ne can indure.

For after my brother, the fift _Henry_,[713]

Wan by conquest the royall realme of _Fraunce_,

And of two kingdoms made one monarchy

Before his death, for better obaysaunce

To his yong sonne, not ripe to gouernaunce,

Protector of _England_ I was by testament,

And _Iohn_ my brother in _Fraunce_ made regent.

10.

To whome if God had lent a longer life,

Our house to haue[714] kept from stormes of inward strife,

Or it had beene the Lord Almightie’s will

_Plantagenet_[_te’s_ name] in state had standen still:

But deadly discord, which kingdomes great doth spill[715]

Bred by desire of high domination,

Brought our whole house to playne desolation.

11.

It is for truth in an history founde,

That _Henry Plantagenet_, first of our name,

Who called was king _Henry_ the second,

Sonne of dame _Mawde_, the empresse of high fame,

Would oft report that his auncient grandame,

Though seeming in shape a woman naturall,

Was a feend of the kind that (_Succubæ_) some call.

12.

Which old fable, so long time told before,

When this kinge’s sonnes against him did rebell,

Hee cald to minde, and being greeued sore,

“Loe! now,” quod hee, “I see and proue full well

The story true, which folk of old did tell,

That from the deuill[716] descended all our race,

And now my children verify[717] the case.”

13.

Whereof to leaue a long memoriall

In minde of man euermore[718] to rest,

A picture hee made and hung it in his hall

Of a pellicane sitting on his nest,

With four yong byrdes, three pecking at his brest,

With bloudy beakes, and furder did deuise,

The yongest byrde to pecke the father’s eyes.

14.

Meaning hereby his rebell children three,

_Henry_ and _Richard_, [who] bet him on the breast:

(_Ieffrey_ onely from that offence was free)

_Henry_ dyed of _England’s_ crowne possest:

_Richard_ liued his father to molest,

_Iohn_ the yongest pect [still] his father’s eye,

Whose deedes vnkind the sooner made him dye.

15.

This king (some write) in his sicknes last

Sayde, as it were by way of prophecye,

How that the deuill a darnell grayne had cast

Among his kin, to encrease enmity,

Which should remayne in theyr posterity

Till mischiefe and murder had spent them all,

Not leauing one to pisse against the wall.

16.

And yet from him in order did succeede

In _England_ here of crowned kinges, fourteene

Of that surname, and of that line and seede,

With dukes and earles, and many a noble queene,

The numbre such as all the world would weene,

So many ympes could neuer so be spent,

But some heyr male should bee of that discent.

17.

Which to bee true if any stand in doubt,

Because I meane not further to digresse,

Let him peruse the storyes[719] throughout

Of _English_ kinges whom practise did oppresse,

And hee shall finde the cause of theyr distresse

From first to last, vnkindly to begin

Alwayes by those that next were of the kin.

18.

Was not _Richard_, of whom I spake before,

A rebell playne vntill his father dyed,

And _Iohn_ likewise an enmy euermore

To _Richard_ agayne, and for a rebell tryed?

After whose death, it cannot bee denied,

Agaynst all right this _Iohn_ most cruelly,

His brother’s children caused for to dye.

19.

_Arthur_ and _Isabell_ (I meane) that were

_Ieffrey’s_ children, then duke of _Britayne_,

_Henrye’s_ thyrd sonne, by one degree more neere

Then was this _Iohn_, as storyes shew most playne,

Which two children were famisht or els slayne

By _Iohn_ theyr eame, cald _Saunzterre_ by name,

Of whose foule act all countreys speake great shame.

20.

_Edward_ and _Richard_, second both by name,

Kinges of this land, fell downe by fatall fate:

What was the cause that princes of such fame

Did leese at last theyr honour, life, and state?

Nothing at all, but discord and debate,

Which when it haps in kinred, or in bloud,

_Erynnis_ rage was neuer halfe so wood.

21.

Be sure therefore, ye kinges and princes all,

That concord in kingdomes is chiefe assuraunce,

And that your families doe neuer fall,

But where discord doth leade the doubtfull daunce

With busy brawles, and turnes of variaunce:

Where malice is minstrel, the pype ill report,

The maske mischiefe, and so endes the sport.

22.

But now to come to my purpose agayne,

Whilst I my charge applyed in _England_,

My brother in _Fraunce_ long time did remayne,

Cardinal _Beauford_ tooke proudly in hand,

In causes publique agaynst mee to stand,

Who of great malice, so much as hee might,

Sought in all thinges to doe mee despite.

23.

Which prowde prelate to mee was bastard eame,

Sonne to duke _Iohn_ of _Gaunt_ as they did fayne,

Who being made high chauncellour of the realme,

Not like a priest, but like a prince did raigne,

Nothing wanting which might his pryde maynteine,

Bishop besides of _Winchester_ hee was,

And cardinall of _Rome_ which angels brought to passe.

24.

Not God’s angels, but angels of old gold,

Lift him aloft in whome no cause there was

By iust desert so high to bee extold,

(Riches except) whereby this golden asse

At home and abroad all matters brought to passe,

Namely at _Rome_, hauing no meane but that

To purchase there his crimzin cardinall hat.

25.

Which thing the king my father him forbad

Playnly saying, that hee could not abide

Within his realme a subiect to bee had

His prince’s peere, yet such was this man’s pride,

That hee forthwith, after my father died,

(The king then young) obtayned of the pope

That honour high, which erst hee could not hope.

26.

Whose prowde attemptes because that I withstood,

My bounde duty the better to acquite,

This holy father waxed welnere wood,

Of meere malice deuising day and night

To worke to mee dishonour and despite,

Whereby there fell betweene vs such a iarre,

As in this land was like a ciuill warre.

27.

My brother _Iohn_, which lay this while in _Fraunce_,

Heard of this hurle, and past the seas in hast,

By whose traueil this troublesome distaunce

Ceassed a while, but nethelesse[720] in wast:

For rooted hate will hardly bee displast

Out of high hartes, and namely where debate,

Happeneth amongst great persons of estate.

28.

For like as a match doth lye and smolder

Long time before it commeth to the trayne:

But yet when fire hath caught in the poulder,

No arte is able the flames to restrayne:

Euen so the sparkes of enuy and disdayne,

Out of the smoke burst forth in such a flame,

That _Fraunce_ and _England_ yet may rue the same.

29.

So when of two realmes the regiment royall,

Betweene brothers was parted equally,

One placed in _Fraunce_ for affayres martiall,

And I at home for ciuill pollicy:

To serue the state, wee both did so apply,

As honour and fame to both did encrease,

To him for the warre, to mee for the peace.

30.

Whence enuy sprang, and specially because

This proud prelate could not abide a peere

Within the land to rule the state by lawes,

Wherefore sifting my life and actes most neere,

Hee neuer ceast, vntill, as you shall heare,

By practise foule of him and his allies,

My death was wrought in most vnworthy wise.

31.

And first hee sought my doings to defame,

By rumours false, which hee and his did sowe:

Letters and billes to my reproach and shame

Hee did deuise, and all about bestowe,

Whereby my troth in doubt should daily growe,

In _England_ first, and afterward in _Fraunce_,

Mouing all meanes to bring mee to mischaunce.

32.

One quarell was, that where by common lawe

Murder and theft beene punisht all alike,

So as manslears, which bloudy blades doe drawe,

Suffer no more then hee that doth but pike,

Mee thought the same no order pollitike,

In setting paynes to make no difference,

Betweene the lesser and greater offence.

33.

I being seene somewhat in ciuill lawe,

The rules thereof reputed much better:[721]

Wherefore to keepe offenders more in awe,

Like as the fault was smaller or greater,

So set I paynes more easier or bitter,

Waying the quality of euery offence,

And so according pronounced sentence.

34.

Amongst my other _Delicta Iuuentutis_,

Whilst rage of youth my reason did subdue,

I must confesse as the very truth is,

Driuen by desire, fond fancies to ensue,

A thing I did whereof great trouble grewe,

Abusing one, to my no small rebuke,

Which wife was than to _Iohn_, of _Brabant_ duke.

35.

Called shee was lady _Iaquet_ the fayre,

Delightfull in loue like _Helene_ of _Troy_:

To the duke of _Bauier_ sole daughter and heyre,

Her did I marry to my great annoy:[722]

Yet for a time, this dame I did enioy,

With her whole landes, witholding them by force,

Till _Martin_ the pope, betweene vs made diuorce.

36.

Yet all these blastes not able were to moue

The anchor strong, whereby my ship did stay,

Some other shift to seeke him did behoue,

Whereto ere long ill fortune made the way,

Which finally was cause of my decay

And cruell death, contriued by my foes,

Which fell out thus, as now I shall disclose.

37.

_Elianor_ my wife, my duches only deare,

I knowe not howe, but as the nature is

Of women all, aye curious to enquire

Of thinges to come (though I confesse in this

Her fault not small) and that shee did amisse,

By witche’s skill, which sorcery some call,

Would knowe of thinges which after should befall.

38.

And for that cause made her selfe acquainted

With mother _Madge_, called the witch of _Eye_,

And with a clerke that after was attaynted,

_Bolenbroke_ hee hight, that learned was that way,

With other moe, which famous were that day,

As well in science called mathematicall,

As also in magique [and] skill supernaturall.

39.

These cunning folkes shee set on worke to knowe

The time how long the king should liue and raygne,

Some by the starres, and some by deuills[723] belowe,

Some by witchcraft sought knowledge to attayne,

With like fancies, friuolous, fond, and vayne,

Whereof though I knewe least of any man,

Yet by that meane my mischiefe first began.

40.

Yet besides this there was a greater thing,

How shee in waxe, by councell of the witch,

An image made, crowned like a king,

With sword in hand, in shape and likenes syche

As was the king, which daily they did pitch

Against a fire, that as the waxe did melt,

So should his life consume away vnfelt.

41.

My duchesse thus accused of this cryme,

As shee that should such practise first begin,

My part was then to yeelde vnto the time,

Geuing her leaue to deale alone therein:

And since the cause concerned deadly sinne,

Which to the clergie onely doth pertayne,

To deale therein I playnely did refrayne.

42.

And suffered them her person to ascite

Into their courtes, to aunswere and appeare,

Which to my hart was sure the greatest spight

That could be wrought, and touched mee most neare,

To see my wife, and lady leefe and deare,

To my reproch, and playne before my face,

Entreated so, as one of sort most base.

43.

The clergie then examining her cause,

Conuinced[724] her, as guilty in the same,

And sentence gaue, according to their lawes,

That shee and they whom I before did name

Should suffer death, or els some open shame:

Of which penaunce my wife by sentence had

To suffer shame, of both the two, more bad.

44.

And first shee must by dayes together three,

Through _London_ streetes passe all along in sight

Barelegd and barefoote, that all the world might see,

Bearing in hand a burning taper bright,

And not content with this extreme despite,

To worke mee woe in all they may or can,

Exilde shee was into the ile of _Man_.

45.

This heynous crime and open worldly shame,

Was[725] such rigour shewed vnto my wife,

With[726] a fine fetch further thinges to frame,

And nothing els but a preparatiue

First from office, and finally from life

Mee to depriue, and so passing further,

What lawe could not, to execute by murther.

46.

Which by slie driftes and windlaces aloofe,

They brought about, perswading first the queene,

That in effect it was the kinge’s reproofe,

And her’s also, to bee exempted cleane

From princely rule, or that it should be seene

A king of yeares, still gouerned to bee

Like a pupill, that nothing could foresee.

47.

The daunger more, considering the king

Was without childe, I being his next heyre,

To rule the realme as prince in euery thing

Without restraynt, and all the sway to beare:

With people’s loue, whereby it was to feare

That my haut heart, vnbrideled in desire,

Time would preuent, and to the crowne aspire.

48.

These with such like were put into her heade,

Who of her selfe was thereto soone enclind,

Other there were that this ill humour fed,

To neyther part that had good will or mind,

The duke of _Yorke_ our cosin most vnkinde,

Who keeping close a title to the crowne,

_Lancaster’s_ house did labour to pull downe.

49.

The stay whereof hee tooke to stand in mee,

Seeing the king of courage nothing stout,

Neyther of witte great perill to foresee,

So for purpose, if hee could bring about

Mee to displace, then did hee litle doubt

To gayne the goale, for which hee droue the ball,

The crowne (I meane) to catch ere it should fall.

50.

This hope made him agaynst mee to conspyre

With those which foes were to ech other late,

The queene did weene to win her whole desire,

Which was to rule the king and all the state

If I were rid, whom therefore shee did hate,

Forecasting not, when that was brought to passe,

How weake of friendes the king her husband, was.

51.

The dukes two, of _Excester_, and _Buckingham_,

With the marquise _Dorset_ therein did agree,

But namely the marquise of _Suffolke_, _William_,

Contriuer chiefe of this conspiracy,

With other moe, that sate still and did see

Theyr mortall foes on mee to whet theyr kniues,

Which turnde at last to losse of all theyr liues.

52.

But vayne desire of soueraynty and rule,

Which otherwise (ambition) hath to name,

So stird the queene, that wilfull as a mule,

Headlong she runnes from smoke into the flame,

Driuing a drift, which after did so frame,

As shee, the king, with all theyr line and race,

Depriued were of honour, life, and place.

53.

So for purpose shee thought it very good,

With former foes in frendship to confeder,

The duke of _Yorke_, and other of his bloud,

With _Neuills_ all, knit were then altogether,

And _Delapoole_, friend afore to neither:

The cardinall also came within this list,

As Herode and Pilate to iudge Ihesus Christ.

54.

This cursed league too late discouered was

By bayardes blinde, that linked in the line,

The queene and cardinall brought it so to passe,

With marquise _Suffolke_ maister of this myne,

Whose ill aduise was counted very fine,

With other moe which finely could disguise,

With false visours my mischiefe to deuise.

55.

Concluding thus, they poynt without delay

Parliament to holde, in some vnhaunted place,

Far from _London_, out of the common way,

Where few or none should vnderstand the case,

But whom the queene and cardinall did embrace:

And so for place they chose Saint _Edmondsbury_,

Since when (some say) _England_ was neuer mery.

56.

Somens was sent this company to call,

Which made mee muse, that in so great a case

I should no whit of counsayle bee at all,

Who yet had rule, and next the king in place,

Me thought nothing my state could more disgrace

Then to beare name, and in effect to bee

A cypher in algrim, as all men mought see.

57.

And though iust cause I had for to suspect

The time and place apoynted by my foes,

And that my friendes most playnly did detect

The subtil trayne, and practise of all those

Which agaynst mee great treasons did suppose:

Yet trust of truth with a conscience cleare

Gaue mee good heart in that place to appeare.

58.

Upon which trust with more haste then good speede,

Forward I went to that vnlucky place

Duty to show, and no whit was in dread

Of any trayne, but bold to shew my face

As a true man, yet so fel out the case

That after trauayle seeking for repose,

An armed band my lodging did enclose.

59.

The vicount _Beaumont_, who for the time supplyed

The office of high constable of the land,

Was with the queene and cardinall allied,

By whose support hee stoutly tooke in hand

My lodging to entre with an armed band,

And for high treason my person did arest,

And layde mee that night where him seemed best.

60.

Then shaking and quaking, for dread of a dreame,

Halfe waked, all naked, in bed as I lay,

What time strake the chime of mine houre extreame,

Opprest was my rest with mortall affray,

My foes did vnclose, I know not which way,

My chambre dores, and boldly they in brake,

And had mee fast before I could awake.[727]

61.

Thou lookest now, that of my secret murther,

I should at large the maner how declare,

I pray thee, _Baldwine_, aske of me no further,

For speaking playne, it came so at vnware,

As I my selfe, which caught was in the snare,

Scarcely am able the circumstaunce to shew,

Which was kept close, and knowne but vnto fewe.

62.

But bee thou sure by violence it was,

And no whit bred by sicknes or disease,

That felt it well before my life did passe,

For when these wolues my body once did cease,

Used I was but smally to mine ease,

With torments strong which went so nere the quicke,

As made mee dye before that I was sicke.

63.

A palsey (they sayd) my vital spirites opprest,

Bred by excesse of melancholie black,

This for excuse to lay, them seemed best,

Least my true friendes the cause might furder racke,

And so perhaps discouer the whole packe

Of the conspirers,[728] whom they might well suspect

For causes great, which after tooke effect.

64.

Dead was I found by such as best did know

The maner how the same was brought to passe,

And then my corps was set out for a show,

By view whereof nothing perceiued was:[729]

Whereby the worlde may see as in a glasse,

Th’vnsure[730] state of them that stand most hye,

Which than dread least, when daunger is most nye.

65.

And also see what daunger they are in,[731]

Which next theyr king are to succede in place:

Since kinges most part bee ielous of theyr kynne,

Whome I aduise, forewarned by my case,

To beare low sayle, and not too much embrace

The people’s loue: for as _Senec_ sayth truly:

_O quam funestus est fauor populi._

G. F.[732]

[The good duke hauing ended his wofull tragedy, after much talke

hadde concerning discention among those that bee magistrates:

“Good Lord,” quod one, “what mischiefe and destruction doth priuy

grudge and malice rayse among all sortes of people both hye and

lowe? but especially among magistrates being the head and guide

of the commonwealth: for what mischief did the discention betwene

these two persons (being both of hye estate) bring after to both

realmes:[733] yea and the vtter ruin of most of them that were

workers[734] of this duke’s death.” “You say troth,” quoth I,

“and now for that, if I may craue your pacience a while, you

shall heare what I haue noted in the duke of _Suffolke’s_ doings,

one of the chiefe procurours of duke _Humfreye’s_ destruction,

who[735] by the prouidence of God came shortly after in such

hatred of the people, that the king himselfe could not saue him

from a straunge and notable death.[736] For being banisht the

realme for the terme of fiue yeares, to appease the continuall

rumours and inward grudges, that not only the commons, but most

part of the nobility of _England_, bare towardes him for the

death of the sayde duke, he sayling[737] towardes _Fraunce_, was

met with a ship of _Deuonshire_, and beheaded forthwith the first

day of May, Anno 1450. And the dead corps throwen vp at _Douer_,

vpon the sandes, which may lament his death after this maner.”]

How Lord[738] _William De la pole_, Duke of

Suffolke, was worthely banished, for

abusing his King, and causing

the destruction of the good

Duke _Humfrey_,[739]

Anno 1450.[740]

Heauy is the hap whereto all men bee bound,

I meane the death, which no estate may flie:

But to be banisht, [be]headed, and than drownd[741]

In sinke of shame from top of honors hie,

Was neuer man so serude, I thinke, but I:

Wherefore, _Baldwine_,[742] amongest the rest by right,

I clayme of thee my woefull case to write.[743]

My only life in all poynts may suffise,

To shewe how base all baytes of fortune bee,

Which thawe like yse, through heate of enuie’s eyes,

Of[744] vicious deedes which much possessed mee:

Good hap with vice, long time cannot agree,[745]

Which bring best fortunes to the basest fall,

And happiest hap to enuy to bee thrall.

Called I was _William[746] De la Pole_,

Of _Suffolke_ duke, in[747] queene _Margeret’s_ dayes,

That found the meane duke _Humfrey’s_ bloud to coole,

Whose worthy actes[748] deserue eternall prayse,

Whereby I note that fortune cannot rayse

Any one aloft, without some other’s wracke:

Fluds drowne no fieldes before they finde a bracke.

But as the waters which doe breake the walles

Doe lose their[749] course they had within the shore,

And daily rotting stinke within their stalles,

For faut of mouing which they found before,

Euen so the state that ouer high is bore,

Doth lose the life of people’s loue it had,

And rots it selfe vntill it fall to bad.

For while I was but earle, ech man was glad

To say and doe the best by mee they might:

And fortune euer since I was a lad,

Did smile vpon mee with a chearefull sight,

For whan my king had doubed mee a knight,

And sent mee forth to serue at warre in _Fraunce_,

My lucky[750] speede mine honour did enhaunce.

Where, to omitte the many feates I wrought

Under other’s guide, I doe remember one,

Which with my souldiers valiantly was fought,

None other captayne saue my selfe alone,

I meane not now the apprinze of _Pucell Jone_

In which attempt my trauaile was not small,

Though the duke of _Burgoyne_ had the prayse of all.[751]

[But] the siege of _Awmarle_ is the feate I prayse:

A strong built towne, with castels, walles, and vaultes,

With men and weapon armde at all assayes:

To which I gaue nigh fiue times fyue assaultes,

Til at the last they yeelded it for naughtes:

Yet lord _Rambur’s_, like a valiaunt knight,

Defended it as long as euer[752] hee might.

But what preuayled it these townes to winne,

Which shortly after must bee lost agayne?

Whereby I see there is more glory in

The keeping things, than is in their attayne:

To get and keepe not, is but losse and[753] payne:

Therefore ought men prouide to saue theyr winnings

In all attempts, els lose they their beginnings.

Because wee could not keepe the townes we won,

(For they were more then wee might easely wyeld,)

One yeare vndid what wee in ten had done:

[For] enuy at home [and] treason abroade, did yeelde

King _Charles_ his realme of _Fraunce_, made barrain field:

For bloudy warres had wasted all encrease,

Which causde the pope helpe pouerty, sue[754] for peace.

10.

So that in _Tourayn_ at the towne of _Toures_,

Duke _Charles_ and other for their prince appered,

So did lord _Rosse_ and I than earle, for oures:

And whan wee shewed wherein ech other dered,

Wee sought out meanes all quarels to haue clered,

Wherein the lordes of _Germany_, of _Spayne_,

Of _Hungary_, and _Denmarke_, tooke exceeding payne.

11.

But sith wee could no finall peace induce,

For neyther would the other’s couenauntes here,

For eyghteene monthes wee did conclude a truce:

And while as friendes wee lay together there,

Because my warrant did mee therein beare,

To make a perfite peace and through accord,

I sought a mariage for my soueraigne lord.

12.

And for the _French_ kinge’s daughters were to small,

I fancied most dame _Margaret_ his niece,

A louely lady, beautifull, and tall,

Fayre spoken, pleasant, a very princely[755] piece

In wit and learning, matchlesse hence to _Greece_,

Duke _Rayner’s_ daughter[756] of _Aniow_, king by stile

Of _Naples_, _Ierusalem_, and[757] _Scicil_ ile.

13.

But ere I could the graunt of her attayne,

All that our king had of her father’s landes,

As _Mauntes_ the citty, the county whole of _Mayne_,

And most of _Aniow_ duchy in our handes,

I did release him by assured bandes,

And as for dowry with her none I sought,

I thought no peace could bee to derely bought.

14.

And whan this mariage throwly was agreed

Although my king were glad of such a make,

His vncle _Humfrey_ abhorred[758] it in deede,

Because thereby his precontract hee brake,

Made with the heyre of the earle of _Arminacke_,

A noble maide with store of goodes endowed,

Which more than this with losse, the duke allowed.

15.

But loue and beawty in the king so wrought,

That neyther profite,[759] or promise, hee regarded,

But set his vncle’s counsaile still at nought,

And for my paynes I highly was awarded:

Thus vertue starues, but lustfoode must bee larded:

For I, made marquise, went to _Fraunce_ agayne,

And brought this bride vnto my soueraygne.

16.

At home[760] because duke _Humfrey_ aye repined,

Calling their mariage aduoutry (as it was)

The queene did moue mee, erst thereto enclined,

To helpe to bring him to his _requiem_ masse,

Which sith it could for no crime come to passe,

His life and doinges were so right and clere,

Through priuy murder wee brought him to his bere.

17.

Thus righteousness brought _Humfrey_ to rebuke,

Because hee would[761] no wickednes allowe,

But for my doinges I was made a duke:

So fortune can both bend and smoth her browe

On whome shee list, not passing why or how:

O Lord how high, how soone shee did mee raise,

How fast shee filde mee both with prayes and praise.

18.

The lordes and commons both of like assent,

Besought my soueraigne kneeling on their knees,

To record my doinges[762] in the parliament,

As deedes deseruing euerlasting fees:

In which attempt they did no labour leese,

For they set not my prayse so fast in flame,

As hee was ready to reward the same.

19.

But note the ende: my deedes so worthy deemed

Of king, of lordes, and commons, altogether,

Were shortly after treasons false esteemed,

And all men curst queene _Marget’s_ comming hither:

For _Charles_ the _French_ king, in his feates not lither,

Whan wee had rendered _Rayner_, _Mauntes_, and _Mayne_,

Found meane to wyn all _Normandy_ againe.

20.

This made the people curse the mariage,

Esteeming it the cause of euery losse:

Wherefore at mee with open mouth they rage,

Affirming mee t’haue[763] brought the realme to mosse:

Whan king and queene sawe thinges thus goe a crosse,

To quiet all a parliament they called,

And caused mee in prison to bee thralled.

21.

And shortly after brought mee forth abrode,

Which made the commons more than double woode:

And some with weapons would haue laide on lode,

If their graund captayne, _Blewberd_, in his moode

Had not in time with wisedome beene withstoode:

But though that hee and more were executed,

The people still their worst against mee bruted.[764]

22.

And so applied the parliament with billes,

Of haynous wronges and open trayterous crimes,

That king and queene were forst against their willes,

Fro place to place t’adiourne[765] it diuers times,

For prince’s power is like the sandy slimes,

Which must perforce gieue place vnto the waue,

Or sue the windy sourges whan they raue.

23.

Their life was not more deare to them than I,

Which made them search all shiftes to saue mee still,

But ay my foes such faultes did on mee try,

That to preserue mee from a worser ill,

The king was faine full sore against his will,

For fiue yeares space to send mee in exile,

In hope to haue restorde mee in a while.

24.

But marke how vengeaunce wayteth vpon vice,

To shun this storme, in sayling towardes _Fraunce_,

A pyrat’s barke, that was of litle price,[766]

Encountred mee vpon the seas by chaunce,

Whose captayn there tooke mee, as in a traunce,[767]

Let passe my shippes with all theyr frayt and loade,

And led mee backe againe to[768] _Douer_ roade.

25.

Where vnto mee recounting all my[769] faultes,

As murdering of duke _Humfrey_ in his bed,

And how I had brought all the realme to naughtes,

Causing[770] the king vnlawfully to wed,

There was no grace but I must lose my head:

Wherefore hee made mee [to] shriue mee in his bote,

And on the brinke my[771] necke in two hee smote.[772]

26.

This was mine end: which was by reason due

To mee, and such as other’s deaths procure:

Therefore bee bold to write, for it is true,

That who so doth such practise put in vre,

Of due reward at last shal be most sure,

For God is iust, whose stroke delayed long,

Doth light at last with paine more sharpe and strong.[773]

W. B.[774]

[Whan this was sayd, euery man reioysed to heare of a wicked

person so righteously punished:[775] for though fortune in many

points bee iniurious to princes, yet in this and such like she

is most righteous: and only deserueth the name of a goddesse,

whan she prouideth meanes to punishe and destroy tyrantes. And

when we had a while considered the driftes of the king and queene

to haue saued this duke: and yet they could not: “It is worth

the labour,” sayd one, “to way the workes and iudgements of

God: which seeing they are knowen most euidently by comparing

contraries, I will touch the story of _Iacke Cade_ in order next

following, whome king _Henry_, with all his puissaunce, was no

more able for a while to destroy (yet was hee his rebellious

enemy), than hee was to preserue the duke of _Suffolke_ his

dearest friend: by which two examples doth appeare howe notably

God disposeth all things, and that no force stretcheth farther,

than it pleaseth him to suffer. For this _Cade_ being an

_Irisheman_ but of meane parentage, of no ability,[776] and lesse

power, accompanied with a fewe naked _Kentishemen_, caused the

king with his army at all poynts appointed, to leaue the field,

and suffer him to do whatsoeuer hee lusted [for a time, but in

the end hee was slaine at _Hothfielde_ in _Sussex_, and caried

thence to _London_ in a cart, and there quartered.][777] In whose

behalfe, seeing he is one of fortune’s whelpes, I will trouble

you a while to heare the processe of his enterprise, which hee

may declare in maner following.”]

How _Iacke Cade_ naming himselfe _Mortimer_,[778]

trayterously rebelling against his King,

in Iune, Anno 1450,[779] was for

his treasons and cruell

doinges worthely

punished.

Shall I call it fortune[780] or my froward folly,

That lifted[781] mee vp[782] and laide mee downe belowe?

Or was it courage that made mee so ioly,

Which of the starres and bodies grement growe?[783]

What euer[784] it were this one poynt sure I knowe,

Which shall be meete for euery man to marke:

Our lust and willes our euils chiefly warke.

It may bee well that planets doe encline,

And our complexions moue our mindes to ill,

But such is reason, that they bring to fine

No worke vnayded of our lust and will:

For heauen and earth are subiect both to skill:

The skill[785] of God ruleth all, it is so strong,

Man may by skill guide thinges that to him long.

Though lust be sturdy,[786] and will enclined to nought,

This forst by mixture, that by heauen’s course,

Yet through the skill[787] God hath in reason wrought

And geuen man, no lust nor will to[788] course,

But may bee stayed or swaged of the sourse,

So that it shall in nothing force the minde

To worke our woe, or leaue the proper kinde.

But though this skill bee geuen to euery man[789]

To rule the will, and keepe the minde aloft,

For lacke of grace full fewe vse it can,[790]

These worldly pleasures tickle vs so oft:

Skill is not weake, but will strong,[791] fleshe is soft,

And yeeldes it selfe to pleasure that it loueth,

And hales the minde to that it most reproueth.

Now if this hap whereby wee yeelde our minde

To lust and will, bee fortune as wee name her,

Than is shee iustly called false and blinde,

And no reproach can bee to much to blame her:

Yet is the shame our owne when so wee shame her,

For sure this hap if it bee rightly knowne,

Commeth[792] of our selues, and so the blame our owne.

For who so liueth in the schoole of skill,

And medleth not with any worlde’s affayres,

Forsaketh pompes and honors, that doe spill

The minde’s recourse to grace’s quiet stayres,

His state no fortune by no meane appayres:

For fortune is the folly and plague of those,[793]

Which to the world their wretched willes dispose.

Among which fooles, marke, _Baldwine_, I am one,

That would not stay my selfe in mine estate:

I thought to rule but to obay to none,

And therefore fell I with my king at bate:

And to the end I might him better mate,

_Iohn Mortimer_ I caused my selfe bee called,

Whose kingly bloud the _Henryes_ nigh had thralled.[794]

This shift I vsed, the people to perswade

To leaue their prince, on my side more to sticke,

Whereas in deede my father’s name was _Cade_,

Whose noble stocke was neuer worth a sticke:

But touching wit I was both ripe and quicke,

Had strength of limmes, large stature, comely face,

Which made men weene my lynage were not base.

And seeing stoutnes stucke by men in _Kent_,

Whose valiaunt hearts refuse none enterprise,

With false perswasions strayte to them I went,

And sayd they suffered too great iniuries:

By meane whereof I caused them to rise:[795]

And battayle wise to come to _Blacke Heath_ playne,

And thence their griefes vnto the king complaine.

10.

Who being deafe (as men say) on that eare,

For wee desired release of subsedies,

Refused roughly our requestes to heare,

And came against vs as his enemies:[796]

But wee to tary[797] him sought out subtilties,

Remoued our campe, and backe to _Senocke_ went,

After whome the _Staffords_ with their power was sent.

11.

See here how fortune setting vs a flote,

Brought to our nets a portion of our pray:

For why, the _Staffords_ with their army hote,

Assayled vs at _Senocke_, where wee lay:

From whence aliue they parted not away:

Which whan the kinge’s retinue vnderstood,

They all affirmed my quarell to bee good.

12.

Which caused the king, and queene, whom all did hate,

To rayse their campe, and sodainly depart:

And that they might the people’s grudge abate,

To imprison[798] some full sore against their hart:

Lord _Saye_ was one, whome I made after smart,

For after the[799] _Staffords_ and their hoast was slaine,

To _Blackeheath_ fielde I marched backe againe.

13.

And where the king would nothing heare before,

Now was hee glad to send to knowe my minde:

And I thereby enflamed much the more,

Refused his grauntes, so folly made mee blinde,

For this hee flewe and left lord _Scales_ behinde,

To helpe the towne and strengthen _London_ tower,

Towardes which I marched forward with my power.

14.

And found there all thinges at mine owne desire,[800]

I entred _London_, did there what I list:

The treasurer, lord _Saye_, I did conspire

To haue condemned: whereof when I mist,

(For hee by lawe my malice did resist)

By force I tooke him in _Guyldhall_ fro the heape,[801]

And headed him before the crosse in _Cheape_.

15.

His sonne in law _Iames Cromer_, shriue of _Kent_,

I caught at _Mile end_, where as then he lay:

Beheaded him, and one a pole I sent

His head to _London_ where his father’s lay,

With these two heades I made a prety play,

For pight on poales I bare them through the streete,

And for my sport made ech kisse other sweete.[802]

16.

Then brake I prysons, let forth whom I wold,

And vsed the city as it had beene mine:

Tooke from the marchaunts money, ware, and gold,

From some by force, from other some by fine:

This at the length did cause them to repine,

So that lord _Scales_ consenting with the mayre,

Forbad vs to theyr city to repayre.

17.

For all this while myne hoast in _Southwarke_ lay,

Who whan they knewe our passage was denied,

Came boldly to the bridge and made a fray,

For in wee would, the townes men vs defied:

But when with stroakes wee had the matter tryed,

Wee wan the bridge and set much part on fire,

This done to _Southwarke_ backe wee did retyre.

18.

The morow after came the chauncellour,

With generall pardon for my men, halfe gone,

Which heard and read, the rest within an houre,

Shranke all away ech man to shift for one:

And when I sawe they left mee post alone,

I did disguise mee like a knight of the post,

And into _Sussex_ rode away in post.[803]

19.

And there I lurked till that cursed coyne,

That restles begle sought and found mee out,

For straight the king by promise did enioyne

A thousand marke to whosoeuer mought

Apprehend[804] my corse, which made them[805] seeke about:

Among the which one _Alexander Iden_.

Found out the hole, wherein the foxe was hidden.

20.

But ere hee tooke mee I put[806] him to his trumps,

For yeelde I would not while my handes would holde,

But hope of money made him stur his stumps,

And to assault mee valiauntly and bolde:

Two houres and more our combat[807] was not colde,

Till at the last hee lent mee such a stroke,

That downe I fell and neuer after spoke.

21.

Than was my carkasse caryed like a hog,

To _Southwarke_ borow where it lay a night,

The next day drawne to _Newgate_ like a dog,

All men reioysing at the rufull sight:

Than were on poales my perboyld quarters pight,[808]

And set aloft for vermine to deuour,

Meete graue for rebels that resist the power.

22.

Full litle know wee wretches what wee do,

When we presume our princes to resist:

Wee warre with God, against his glory to,

That placeth in his office whome hee list:

Therefore was neuer traytour yet, but mist

The marke hee shot, and came to shamefull end,

Nor neuer shall till God bee forst to bend.

23.

God hath ordayned the power, all princes be

His lieutenantes or deputyes[809] in realmes,

Against their foes still[810] therefore fighteth hee,

And as[811] his enmies driues them to extreames,

Their wise deuises proue but doltishe dreames:

No subiect ought for any kinde of cause

To force the prince,[812] but yeelde him to the lawes.

24.

Wherefore,[813] _Baldwine_, warne men followe reason,

Subdue their willes, and bee not fortune’s slaues,

A shamefull end doth euer followe treason,

There is no trust in rebells, rascall knaues,

In fortune lesse, which worketh as the waues:

From whose assaultes who listeth to stand free,

Must followe skill and[814] so contented bee.[815]

[“By Sainct _Mary_,” sayd[816] one, “if _Iacke_ were as wel

learned, as you haue made his oration, what so euer hee was

by birth, I warrant him a gentleman by his learning. How

notably and philosopher like hath he described fortune, and the

causes of worldly cumbraunce? how like[817] a deuine hath hee

determined the states both of officers and rebells. For in deede

officers[818] be God’s deputies, and it is God’s office which

they beare: and it is hee which ordaineth thereto such as himself

listeth, good whan he fauoureth the people, and euil when he will

punish them. And therefore whosoeuer rebelleth against any ruler,

either good or bad, rebelleth against God and shalbee sure of a

shamefull ende:[819] for God cannot but mayntaine his deputy. Yet

this I note by the way concerning rebels and rebellions. Although

the deuill raise them, yet God alwayes vseth them to his glory,

as a part of his iustice. For whan kinges and chiefe rulers

suffer their vnder officers to misuse their subiectes, and will

not heare nor remedy their people’s wronges whan they complaine,

then suffereth God the rebell to rage, and to execute that part

of his iustice, which the partiall prince would not. For the lord

_Saye_, a very corrupt officer, and one whom notwithstanding the

king alwayes mayntayned, was destroyed by this _Iacke_, as was

also the bishop of _Salisbury_, (a proude and couetous prelate)

by other of the rebells. And therefore whatsoeuer prince desireth

to liue quietly without rebellion, must doe his subiectes right

in all thinges, and punishe such officers as greeue or oppresse

them: thus shall they bee sure from all rebellion. And for

the clerer opening hereof it were well done to set forth this

lord _Saye’s_ tragedy.” “What neede that,” sayd[820] another,

“seeing the like example is seene in the duke of _Suffolke_,

whose doings are declared sufficiently already. Nay let[821] vs

goe forward, for we haue a great many behind that may not bee

omitted, and the time as you see passeth away. As for this lord

_Saye_, whom _Cade_ so cruelly killed and spitefully vsed after

his death, (I dare say) shalbe knowen therby what hee was to all

that read or heare this story. For God would neuer haue suffered

him to haue beene so vsed, except hee had first deserued it.

Therefore let him goe and with him the bishop, and all other

slaine in that rebellion which was raised as it may be thought

through some drift of the duke of _Yorke_, who shortly after

began to endeuour himselfe by all meanes to attayne the crowne,

and therefore gathered an army in _Walles_, and marched towardes

_London_:[822] but the king with his power taried and met him

at Sainct _Albans_, where while the king and hee were about a

treaty, _Richarde Neuile_ earle of _Warwicke_, chiefe of the

faction of the house of _Yorke_, set vpon the kinge’s army, gate

the victory, and slue _Edmund Beauford_ duke of _Somerset_. Where

also the same day were slaine in the quarell of king _Henry_

the sixt, _Henry Percy_ the second[823] of that surname, earle

of _Northumberland_, _Humfreye_ earle of _Stafford_, sonne and

heire to _Humfrey Stafford_,[824] duke of _Buckingham_, _Iohn_

lord _Clifford_, _Babthorpe_ the kinge’s attorney and his sonne

and heire, besides many moe of the nobility. But[825] because the

duke of _Somerset_[826] was the chiefe of that part, passing ouer

the rest, let vs onely heare him speake for all.”]

The tragedy of _Edmund_ Duke of Somerset, slayne

in the first battayle at Sainct Albane’s,

the 23 day of May, in the 32 yeare

of _Henry_ the sixte,

Anno 1454.

Some I suppose are borne vnfortunate,

Els good endeuours could not ill[827] succede,

What shall I call it? ill fortune or fate,

That some men’s attempts haue neuer good speede,[828]

Their[829] trauaile thankles, all booteles their heede,

Where other vnlike in working or skill,

But wrestle[830] the world, and wyeld it at will.[831]

Of the first nombre I count my selfe one,[832]

To all mishap I weene predestinate,

Beleeue mee, _Baldwine_, there bee fewe or none,

To whome fortune was euer more ingrate:

Make thou, therefore, my life a caueat:

That who so with force will worke against kinde,

Sayleth (as who sayth) agaynst the streame and winde.

For I of _Somerset_ [which] duke _Edmund_ hight,

Extract by discent from _Lancaster_ lyne,

Were it by folly, or fortune’s despite,[833]

Or by ill aspect of some crooked signe,

Of mine attempts could neuer[834] see good fine:

What so I began did seldome well end:

God from such fortune all good men defend.

Where I thought[835] to saue, most part did I spill,

For good hap with mee was alway at warre:

The linage of _Yorke_ whom I bare so ill,

By my spite became bright as the morning starre,[836]

Thus somewhiles men make when faine they would mar,

The more yee lop trees the greater they growe,

The more ye stop streames, the higher they flowe.

Maugre my spite,[837] his glory[838] grewe the more,

And mine, as the mone in the wane, waxt lesse:

For hauing the place which hee had before,

Gouernour of _Fraunce_, needes I must confesse,

That lost was _Normandy_ without redresse,

Yet wrought I alwayes that wit might contriue,

But what doth it boote with the streame to striue?[839]

Borne was I neither to warre ne to peace,

For _Mars_ was maligne to all my whole trade:[840]

My byrth I beleue was in _Ioue’s_ decrease,

When _Cancer_ in his[841] course being retrograde,

Declined from _Sol_ to[842] _Saturnus’_ shade,

Where aspectes were good, opposites did marre,

So grewe mine vnhap both in peace and warre.

A straunge natiuity in calculation,

As all[843] my liue’s course did after well[844] declare,

Whereof in briefe[845] to make relation,

That other by mee may learne to beware,

Ouerlight credence was cause of my care,

And want of foresight in gieuing assent

To condemne _Humfrey_ that duke innocent.[846]

_Humfrey_ I meane[847] that was the protectour,

Duke of _Glocester_, of the royall bloud,

So long as hee was _England’s_ directour,

King _Henrie’s_ title to the crowne was good:

This prince as a piller most stedfastly stood,[848]

Or like a prop[849] set vnder a vyne,

In state to vpholde all _Lancaster’s_ lyne.

O heedeles trust, vnware of harme to come,

O malice headlong, swift to serue fond will,

Did euer madnes man so much benome

Of prudent forecast, reason, wit, and skill,[850]

As mee, blinde bayard, consenting to spill

The bloud of my cosin, my refuge and stay,[851]

To my destruction making open way?

10.

So long as the duke bare the stroke and sway,[852]

So long no rebels quarels[853] durst begin:

But when the post was pulled once[854] away,

Which stoode to vphold the king and his kin,

_Yorke_ and his banders prowdly preased in

To chalenge the crowne, by title[855] of right,

Beginning with lawe and ending with might.

11.

Abroad went bruits in countrey and[856] towne,

That _Yorke_ of _England_ was the heyr true,[857]

And how _Henry_ had vsurped[858] the crowne

Agaynst all right, which all the realme might rue:[859]

The people then embracing titles newe,

Yrkesome of present and longing for chaunge,[860]

Assented soone because they loue to raunge.

12.

True is the text which wee in scripture reade,

_Væ terra illi_, _cuius rex est puer_,

Woe to that land[861] whereof a child is head,

Whether child or childish, the case is one sure:

Where kinges be yong, wee dayly see in vre,

The people awlesse, by weakenes of theyr head,[862]

Lead theyr liues lawlesse, hauing none to dread.[863]

13.

And no lesse true is this text agayne,

_Beata terra cuius rex est nobilis_:

Blest is the land where a stout king doth rayne,

Where in good peace ech man possesseth his,

Where ill men feare to faut or doe amisse,

Where a stout prince is prest, with sworde[864] in hand,[865]

At home and abroad his[866] enemies to withstand.

14.

In case king _Henry_ had beene such a one,[867]

Hardy and stout, as his fathers afore,

Long mought bee haue sate in the royall throne,

Without any feare of common vprore:

But dayly his weakenesse shewed more and more,[868]

Which bouldnesse gaue to the aduersary band,[869]

To spoyle him at last both of life and land.

15.

His humble heart was nothing vnknowen,

To the gallants of _Yorke_ and theyr retinue:

A ground lying lowe is soone ouerflowen,[870]

And shored houses cannot long continue:

Joyntes cannot knit whereas is no synowe:

And so a prince, not dread as well as loued,

Is from his place by practise soone remoued.[871]

16.

Well mought I see, had I not wanted brayne,

The worke begon to vndermyne the state,

When the chiefe linke was loosed fro the chayne,

And that some[872] durst vpon bloud royall grate:

How tickle a hold had I of mine estate?

When the chiefe post[873] lay flat vpon the flore,

Mought not I thinke my staffe then[874] next the dore.

17.

So mought I[875] also dame _Margaret_ the queene,

By meane of whom this[876] mischiefe first began,

Did she (trow ye) her selfe not ouerweene,

Death to procure to that most worthy man?[877]

Which she and hers afterward mought well ban,[878]

On whom did hang (as I before haue sayde)

Her husband’s life, his honour, and his ayde.

18.

For whilst hee liued, which was our stable stay,

_Yorke_ and his ympes were kept as vnder yoke,

But when the piller remoued[879] was away,

Then burst out flame, that late before was smoke,

The traytour couert then[880] cast of his cloake,

And from his den came[881] forth in open light,

With titles blinde which he set forth for right.

19.

But this to bring about, him[882] first behoued[883]

The king and his kin asonder for[884] to set:

Who being perforce or practise remoued,[885]

Then had they avoyded the principall let,

Which kept the sought pray so long from the net:

The next poynt after, was, themselues to place

In rule aboue the rest, next vnto his grace.[886]

20.

Therefore was I first[887] whome they put out of place[888]

No cause pretending but the common weale,

The crown of _England_ was the very case,

Why to the commons they burned so in zeale:

My faultes were cloakes theyr practise to conceale,

In counsayle hearing consider the intent,

For in[889] pretence of truth treason oft is ment.

21.

So theyr pretence was only to remoue

Counsayle corrupt from place about the king:

But, O ye princes, you it doth behoue

This case to construe as no fayned thing,

That neuer traytour did subdue his king,

But for his plat, ere hee could[890] furder wade,

Against his friendes the quarell first hee made.

22.

And if by hap hee could so bring about,

Them to subdue at his owne wish and will,[891]

Then would hee waxe so arrogant, and stout,

That no reason his outrage might fulfill

But to proceede vpon his purpose still,

Til king and counsayle brought were in one case:

Such is theyr folly to rebells to[892] gieue place.[893]

23.

So for the fish casting forth a net,[894]

The next poynt was in driuing out the plat,[895]

Commons to cause in rage to fume and fret,[896]

And to rebell, I cannot tell for what,

Requiring redresse of this, and of that:

Who if they speede, the stander at[897] receyt

Grasp will the pray, for which hee doth awayt.[898]

24.

Then by surmise of some thing pretended,

Such to displace as they may well suspect,

Like to withstand theyr mischiefe[899] entended,

And in theyr roumes theyr banders to elect,

The aduerse party prowdly to reiect,

And then with reportes the simple to abuse,

And when these helpes fayle, open force to vse.

25.

So this duke’s traynes were couert and not seene,

Which ment no lesse, that hee[900] most pretended,

Like to a serpent couert[901] vnder greene,

To the weale publique seemed wholy bended:

Zelous he was, and would haue all thinges mended,

But by that mendment nothing els hee ment

But to bee king, to that marke was his bent.

26.

For had hee beene playne, as hee ment indeede,

_Henry_ to depose from the royall place,

His hast had beene waste, and much worse his speede,

The king then standing in his people’s grace:

This duke therefore set forth a goodly face,

As one that ment no quarrell for the crowne,

Such as bare rule hee only would put downe.

27.

But all for nought, so long as I bare stroke,

Serued these driftes, and proued all but[902] vayne:

The best help then, was people[903] to prouoke,

To make commocion and vprores amayne:

Which to appease the king himselfe was fayne,

From _Blacke-heath_ in _Kent_ to send mee to the towre:

Such was the force of rebelles in[904] that howre.

28.

The tempest yet[905] therewith was not ceased,

For _Yorke_ was bent his purpose to pursue,

Who seing how soone[906] I was released,

And ill successe of sufferaunce to ensue:

Then like Iudas[907] vnto his Lord untrue,

Esteeming time[908] lost any[909] longer to defarre,

By _Warwicke’s_ ayde proclaymed open warre.

29.

At _S. Albane’s_ towne both our hoastes did mete,

Which to try a field was no equall place,

Forst wee were to fight in euery lane and strete,

No feare of foes could make mee shun the place:[910]

There I and _Warwicke_, fronted face to face,

At an inne dore, the castle was the signe,

Where with a sword was cut my fatall lyne.

30.

Oft was I warned to come in castle none,

Hauing no mistrust of[911] any common signe,

I did imagine a castle built with stone,

For of no inne I could the same deuine:

In prophet’s skill my wit was neuer fyne,

A foole is hee that such vaine dreames doth dred,

And more foole of both that[912] will by them bee led.

31.

My life I lost in that vnlucky place,

With many lordes that leaned to my parte:

The earle[913] _Percy_ had no better grace,

_Clyfford_ for all his courage could not[914] shun the dart,[915]

_Buckingham’s_ heyr was at this mortall mart,[916]

_Babthorp_ the attourney[917] for all his skill in lawe,

In this poynt of pleading appeared very[918] rawe.[919]

32.

So poore king _Henry_, disarmed[920] of his bandes,

His friends slayne, wanting all[921] assistence,[922]

Was made a pray vnto his enemie’s handes,

Priued[923] of power and princely reuerence,

And as a pupyll voyde of all experience,

Innocent playne, and symply witted,

Was as a lambe vnto the wolfe committed.

33.

A parliament then was called with speede,

A parliament? nay, a playne conspiracy,

When against right it was decreede,[924]

That after the death of the sixt _Henry_,

_Yorke_ should succede vnto the regalty,[925]

And in this life the charge, and protection

Of king and realme, at the duke’s direction.[926]

34.

And thus was _Yorke_ declared protectour,

Protectour, sayd I, nay, proditor playne:

A rancke rebell the prince’s directour,

A vassall[927] to leade his lord and souerayne:

What honest hart would not conceiue disdayne

To see the foote surmount aboue the head?

A monster is in spite of nature bred.

35.

Some happily heare will moue a farther doubt,

And as for _Yorke’s_ part alledge an elder right:

O braynelesse heades, that so run in and out:

Whan length of time a state hath firmely pyght,

And good accord hath put all strife to flight,

Were it not better such titles still to sleepe,[928]

Than all a realme about the tryall weepe.[929]

36.

From the female came _Yorke_, and all his seede,[930]

And wee of _Lancaster_[931] from the heire male,

Of whome three kinges in order did succeede,

By iust discent: this is no fayned tale:

Who would haue thought that any storme or gale

Our shyp could shake, hauing such anker hold?

None I thinke sure, vnlesse that God so would.

37.

After this hurle the king was fayne to flee

Northward in post, for succour, and releefe:

O, blessed God, how straunge it was to see,

A rightfull prince pursued as a theefe:

To thee, O _England_, what can bee more repreefe?

Then to pursue thy prince with armed hand,

What greater shame may bee to any land?

38.

Traytours did triumph, true men lay in the dust,

Reuing and robbing, roisted euery where,

Will stoode for skill, and law obeyed lust,

Might trode downe right, of king there was no feare,

The title was tryed onely by shielde and speare:

All which vnhaps, that they were not forseene,

_Suffolke_ was in fault, who ruled king and queene.[932]

39.

Some here perhaps doe looke I should accuse

My selfe of [some][933] sleight, or subtilty vniust,[934]

Wherein I should my prince’s eares abuse

Against the duke, to bring him in mistrust,

Some part whereof, though needes confesse I must[935]

My fault onely consisted in consent,

Leaning to my foes, whereof I doe repent.[936]

40.

If I at first when brandes began to smoke,

The sparkes to quench by any way had sought,

Neuer had _England_[937] felt this mortall stroke,

Which now to late lamenting helpeth nought:

Two poynts of wit too dearely haue I bought,

The first that better is timely to foresee,

Then after ouer late a counsaylour to bee.

41.

The second is,[938] not easely to assent

To aduise geuen against[939] thy faythfull frend,

But of the speaker ponder the intent,

The meaning full, the poynt, and finall end:

A saint in showe in proofe is found a feend,

The subtile man the simple to abuse,

Much pleasaunt speach and eloquence doth vse.

42.

And so was I abusde and other moe[940]

By _Suffolke’s_ sleights, who sought to please the queene,

Forecasting not the misery and woe

Which thereof[941] came, and soone[942] was after seene:

With glosing tong hee made vs fooles to weene,

That _Humfrey_ did to _England’s_ crowne aspire,

Which to preuent, his death they did conspire.

43.

What should I more of mine vnhaps declare,

Whereof my death at last hath made an end?

Not I alone was voyde of[943] all this care,

Some besides mee there were that did offend:

None I accuse, nor yet my selfe defend,

Faultes I knowe I had, as none liues without,[944]

My chiefe fault was folly I put thee[945] out of dout.

44.

Folly was the chiefe, the noughty time was next,

Which made my fortune subiect to the chiefe:

If _England_ then with strife had not beene vext,

Glory might haue growen whereas ensued griefe:

Yet one thing is my comfort[946] and reliefe,

Constant I was in my prince’s quarell

To die, or liue, and spared for no parell.

45.

What though fortune enuious was my foe?

A noble hart ought not the sooner yeelde,

Nor shrinke a backe for any weale or woe,

But for his prince lie bleeding in the feelde:

If priuy spight at any time mee helde,

The price is paide: and greeuous is my guerdon,

As for the rest God (I trust) will pardon.

G. F.[947]

[After this tragedy ended, one sayd: “Seeing this duke hath so

vehemently exclaimed against the duke of _Yorke’s_ practises,

it were well done to heare what hee can say for himselfe. For

after the first battaile at Sainct _Albane’s_ he was[948] made

protectour,[949] which so much greeued queene _Margaret_ and her

complices, that priuy grutches and open dissembling neuer ceased

till the duke and his allyes were fayne to flie both field and

realme, hee into _Ireland_, and they to _Calais_. Whence they

came againe with an army, whereof _Richard Neuill_ earle of

_Salisbury_ was leder, and marched toward _Couentry_, where the

king was, and had gathered an army to subdue them, and encountred

them at _Northampton_ on the 10 day of Iuly in the yeare of grace

1460, fought with them, lost the fielde, and was taken himselfe

and many of his friendes slaine, as _Humfrey Stafford_ duke of

_Buckingham_, _Iohn Talbot_ the second of that name earle of

_Shrewesbury_, _Iohn vicount Beaumont_, _Thomas_ lord _Egremont_,

sir _William Lucy_ and diuers other. But ouerpassing all these

and many moe because they were honorably slaine in the fielde,

let vs come to him who was the chiefe cause thereof, that is

to say, _Richard Plantagenet_ duke of _Yorke_ slaine in the

battayl at _Wakefield_ on _Christmas_ euen, and _Edmund_ earle

of _Rutland_ his yong sonne, who was there murdered by the lord

_Clifford_ as hee would have fled into the towne to haue saued

himselfe.

Therefore imagine that you see a tall man’s body full of fresh

woundes, but lacking a head, holding by the hand a goodly childe,

whose breast was so wounded that his heart might be seene, his

louely face and eyes disfigured with dropping teares, his haire

through horror standing vpright, his mercy crauing handes all to

bee mangled, and all his body embrued with his owne bloud. Out

of the wesand pipe of which headles body came a shreking voice

saying as followeth.”]

Howe _Richarde Plantagenet_ Duke of Yorke was slayn

through his ouer rash boldnes, and his sonne

the Earle of Rutland for his lacke of

valiaunce, An. Dom. 1460.[950]

Trust fortune (quod[951] hee) in whome[952] was neuer trust?

O folly of men[953] that[954] haue no better grace,

All rest, renowne, and deedes lie in the dust,

Of all the sort that sue her slipper trace:

What meanest thou, _Baldwine_, for to hide[955] thy face?

Thou needest not feare although I misse my head,

Nor yet to mourne for this my sonne is dead.[956]

The cause why thus I lead him in my hand,

His skin with bloud and teares so sore bestaynd,[957]

Is that thou mayest the better vnderstand,

How hardly fortune hath for vs ordaynd,

In whome her loue and hate bee hole contaynd:

For I am _Richard_, prince _Plantagenet_,

The duke of _Yorke_ in royall race beget.[958]

For _Richard_ earle of _Cambridge_, eldest sonne

Of _Edmund Langley_, thyrd[959] sonne of king _Edward_,

Engendred mee, of _Anne_, whose course[960] did runne

Of _Mortimers_ to bee the issue gard:

For when her brother _Edmund_ died a ward,[961]

Shee was sole heire[962] by due discent of line,

Whereby her rightes and titles all were mine.

But marke mee nowe, I pray thee, _Baldwine_, marke,

And see how force oft ouerbeareth right:

Way how vsurpers tyrannously warke,

To keepe by murder that they get by might,

And note what troublous[963] daungers doe alight

On such as seeke to repossesse their owne,

And how through rigour right[964] is ouerthrowne.

The duke of _Hereford_, _Henry Bolenbroke_,[965]

Of whome duke _Mowbray_ told thee now of late,

When voide of cause hee[966] had king _Richard_ toke:

Hee murdered him, vsurped[967] his estate,

Without all right or title, sauing hate

Of other’s rule, or loue to rule alone:

These two excepted, title had hee none.

The realme and crowne was _Edmund Mortimer’s_,[968]

Whose father _Roger_ was king _Richard’s_ heire:

Which caused _Henry_ and the _Lancasters_[969]

To seeke all shiftes our housholdes[970] to appayre,

For sure hee was to sit beside the chayre

Where wee of power to claime our lawfull right,

Wherefore to stroy vs hee did all hee might.[971]

His cursed sonne ensued his cruell path,

And kept my giltlesse cosin strayt in duraunce:

For whome my father hard entreated hath:

But liuing hopelesse of his line’s assuraunce,

Hee thought it best by pollitike procuraunce,

To priue[972] the king, and so restore his frend:

Which brought him selfe to an infamous end.[973]

For whan king _Henry_,[974] of that name the fifte,

Had tane my father in his[975] conspiracy,[976]

Hee, from sir _Edmund_ all the blame to shifte,

Was fayne to say the[977] _French_ kinge’s ally[978]

Had hyred him this trayterous act to trye,

For which condemned shortly hee was slaine,

In helping right this was my father’s gaine.[979]

Thus whan the linage of the _Mortimers_

Was made away by his[980] vsurping line,

Some hang’d, some slaine, some pined prisoners,

Because the crowne by right of lawe was mine,

They gan as fast against mee to repine,

In feare alwayes, least I should stur them to[981] strife,

For guylty hearts haue neuer quiet life.[982]

10.

Yet at the last, in _Henrye’s_ dayes the sixt,

I was restored to my father’s landes,

Made duke of _Yorke_: where through my minde I fixt

To get the crowne and kingdome in my handes,

For ayde wherein I knit assured handes

With _Neuil’s_ stocke, whose daughter was my make,

Who for no woe would euer mee forsake.[983]

11.

O Lord, what hap had I through mariage,

Fower goodly boyes in youth my wife shee bore

Right valiaunt[984] men and prudent for their age,

Such brethren[985] shee had and nephues [still] in store

As none had erst, nor any shall haue more:[986]

The earle of _Salisbury_, and his sonne of _Warwicke_,

Were matchlesse men[987] from _Barbary_ to _Barwicke_.

12.

Through helpe of whome and fortune’s louely looke,

I vndertooke to claime my lawfull right,

And to abash such as against mee tooke,[988]

I raysed power at all poyntes prest to fight:

Of whome the chiefe, that chiefly bare mee spight,

Was _Somerset_ the duke, whome to annoy

I alway sought, through spite, spite to destroy.[989]

13.

And maugre him, so choyse, lo, was my chaunce,

Yea though the quene, that all rulde, tooke his part,[990]

I twise bare rule[991] in _Normandy_ and _Fraunce_,

And last lieuetenaunt in _Ireland_, where my hart

Found remedy for euery kinde of smart:

For through[992] the loue my doinges there did breede,

I had their helpe at all times in my neede.

14.

This spitefull duke, his seely king[993] and queene,

With armed hoastes I thrise met in the fielde,

The first vnfought through treaty made betweene:

The second ioynde, wherein the king did yeelde,

The duke was slaine, the queene enforst to shyelde

Her selfe by flight: the third the queene did fight,

Where I was slaine being ouer matcht by might.[994]

15.

Before this last were other battayles three,

The first the earle of _Salisbury_ led[995] alone,

And[996] fought on _Bloreheath_, and got[997] victory:

In the next was I and my kinsfolke[998] euery one:

But seeing our souldiers stale vnto our foen,

Wee warely brake our company on a night,

Dissolued our hoast, and tooke our selues to flight.[999]

16.

This boy and I, in _Ireland_ did vs saue,

Mine eldest sonne, with _Warwicke_ and his father,

To _Calais_ got, whence, by the reade I gaue,

They came agayne to _London_, and did gather

An other hoast whereof I spake not[1000] rather:

And met our foes, slewe many a lord and knight,

And tooke the king, and draue the queene to flight.

17.

This done I came[1001] to _England_ all in haste,

To make a[1002] claime vnto the realme and crowne:

And in the house while parliament did last,

I in the kinge’s seat boldly[1003] sate mee downe,

And claymed it, whereat[1004] the lordes did frowne,

But what for that? I did so well proceede,

That all at last confest it mine indeede.[1005]

18.

But sith the king had raigned now so long,[1006]

They would hee should continue till hee dyed,

And to the end, that than none did mee wrong,[1007]

Protector and heyre apparant they mee[1008] cryed:

But sith the queene and others this denyed,

I sped mee towardes the north, where then shee lay,

In minde by force to cause her to obay.[1009]

19.

Whereof shee warnd preparde a mighty powre,

And ere that mine were altogether ready,

Came swift to _Sandale_[1010] and besieged my bowre:

Where like a beast I was so rash and heady,

That out I would, there could be no remedy,

With scant fiue thousand souldiers, to assayle

Fowre times so many, encampt to most auayle.[1011]

20.

And so was slaine at first: and while my childe

Scarse twelue yeare old, sought secretly to parte,

That cruell _Clifford_, lord, nay lorell wylde,

While the infant[1012] wept, and prayed him rue his smart,

Knowing what hee was, with dagger cloue his heart:[1013]

This done, he came to th’camp where I lay dead,

Despoylde my corps and cut away my head.

21.

And when he had put a paper crowne thereon,

As a gawring stocke he sent it to the queene:[1014]

And shee for spite commaunded it anon

To be had to _Yorke_: where that it mought[1015] bee seene,

They placed it where other traytors beene:

This mischiefe fortune did mee after death:

Such was my life, and such my losse of breath.[1016]

22.

Wherefore see, _Baldwine_, that thou set it forth,

To th’end the fraude of fortune may bee knowen,

That eke all princes well[1017] may way the worth

Of thinges, for which the seedes[1018] of warre be sowen:

No state so sure but soone is ouerthrowen:[1019]

No worldly good can counterpeyze the prise

Of halfe the paynes that may thereof arise.

23.

Far[1020] better it were to lose a piece of right,

Than lymmes and life in sousing[1021] for the same:

It is not force of friendship, nor of might,

But God that causeth thinges to fro or frame,[1022]

Not wit but lucke[1023] doth wield the winner’s game:

Wherefore if wee our follyes would refrayne,

Time would redresse all wronges, wee voyde of payne.

24.

Wherefore warne princes not to wade[1024] in war

For any cause, except the realme’s defence:[1025]

Theyr troublous titles are vnworthy far

The bloud, the life, the spoyle of innocence:

Of friendes, of foes,[1026] behold my foule[1027] expence,

And neuer the neare: best therefore tary time,

So right shall raigne, and quyet calme ech crime.[1028]

[With that[1029] maister _Ferrers_ shooke mee by the sleue,

saying: “Why how now man, do you forget your selfe? belike you

minde our matters very much.” “So I doe indeede,” sayd I,[1030]

“for I dreame of them.” And whan I had rehersed my dreame, wee

had long talke concerning the nature of dreames, which to stint,

and to bring vs to our matter agayne, thus sayd one of them: “I

am glad it was your chaunce to dreame of duke _Richard_, for it

had bene pity to haue ouerpassed him. And as concerning this

lord _Clyfford_ which so cruely killed his sonne, I purpose to

gieue you notes: who (as hee well deserued) came shortly after

to a sodayne death, and yet too good for so cruell a tyrant.

[For on Palmesonday next following, being the xxix day[1031] of

March, in the yeare of Christ a thousand four hundreth threescore

and one, this lord _Clyfford_ with _Henry Percy_ the thirde

earle of _Northumberland_, the earle of _Westmerland_, the lord

_Dacres_, the lord _Welles_, and other were slayn at _Towton_

in _Yorkeshyre_.][1032] Wherefore as you thought you saw and

hearde the headles duke speake through his necke, so now[1033]

suppose you see this lord _Clyfford_, all armed saue his head,

with his brest plate all gore bloud running from his throate

wherein an headlesse arrow sticketh through which wound hee sayth

thus.”[1034]]

How the Lorde _Clyfford_ for his straunge and

abhominable cruelty came to as straunge

and sodayne a death,[1035]

Anno 1461.[1036]

Open confession axeth open pennaunce,

And wisdome would a man his shame to hyde:[1037]

Yet sith forgieuenes commeth through repentaunce,

I thinke it best that men theyr crimes ascride,

For nought so secret but at length is spyed:

For couer fire, and it will neuer lynne

Till it breake forth, in like case shame and sinne.[1038]

As for my selfe my faultes be out so playne,

And published [so] abroade[1039] in euery place,

That though I would I cannot hide a grayne.[1040]

All care is bootelesse in a curelesse case,

To learne by other’s griefe,[1041] some haue the grace:

And therefore, _Baldwine_, write my[1042] wretched fall,

The briefe whereof I briefly vtter shall.

I am the same that[1043] slue duke _Richard’s_ childe,

The louely babe that begged[1044] life with teares,

Whereby mine honour[1045] fouly I defilde:

Poore sely lambes the lion neuer teares,

The feeble mouse may ly among the beares,

But wrath of man, his rancour to requite,

Forgets all reason, ruth, and vertue[1046] quite.

I meane by rancour the parentall[1047] wreke

Surnamde a vertue, as the vicious[1048] say,

But litle knowe the wicked[1049] what they speake,

In boldening vs[1050] our enmyes kin to slay:

To punish sinne is good, it is no nay:

They wreke not sinne, but merit wreke for sinne,

That wreke the father’s fault vpon[1051] his kinne.

Because my father lord _Iohn Clyfford_, dyed,

Slayne at _S. Albane’s_, in his prince’s ayde,

Agaynst the duke my heart for malice fryed,

So that I could from wreck no way bee stayed,

But to auenge my father’s death, assayde

All meanes I might the duke of _Yorke_ t’annoy,[1052]

And all his kin and friendes to kill and stroy.[1053]

This made mee with my bloudy[1054] dagger wound

His guiltlesse sonne, that neuer agaynst mee storde:

His father’s body lying dead on ground

To pearce with speare, eke with my cruell sworde,

To part his necke, and with his head to bourd

Enuested with a royall paper[1055] crowne,

From place to place to beare it vp and downe.[1056]

But cruelty[1057] can neuer scape the scourge

Of shame, of horror, or of sodayne death:[1058]

Repentaunce selfe, that other sinnes may pourge,

Doth fly from this, so sore the soule it slayeth:

Despayre dissolues the tyraunt’s bitter[1059] breath:

For sodayn vengeaunce sodaynly alightes

On cruell deedes,[1060] to quite theyr cruell spights.[1061]

This finde I true, for as I lay in stale,

To fight with[1062] duke _Richard’s_ eldest son,

I was destroyde not far[1063] from _Dintingdale_,

For as I would my gorget haue vndon

To euent[1064] the heat that had mee nigh vndone,

An headles arrow strake mee through the throte,

Where through my soule forsooke his fylthy cote.[1065]

Was this a chaunce? no sure, God’s iust awarde,

Wherein due[1066] iustice playnly doth appeare:

An headlesse arrow payde mee my rewarde:[1067]

For heading _Richard_ lying on his[1068] bere,

And as I would his childe in no wise heare,

So sodayne death bereft my tongue the power

To aske for pardon at my dying[1069] hower.

10.

Wherefore, good _Baldwine_, warne the[1070] bloudy sort,

To leaue theyr wrath, theyr[1071] rigour to refrayne:

Tell cruell judges horror is the port

Through which they sayle to shame[1072] and sodayn payne:[1073]

Hell haleth[1074] tyrauntes downe to death amayne:

Was neuer yet, nor shal be cruell deede,

Left vnrewarded with as[1075] cruell meede.

[Whan this tragedy was ended: “O Lord,” sayd[1076] another,

“how horrible a thing is diuision in a realme, to how many

mischiefes is it the mother, what vice is not therby kindled,

what vertue left vnquenched? for what was the cause of the duke

of _Yorke’s_ death, and of the cruelty of this _Clyfford_,

saue[1077] the variaunce betwene king _Henry_ and the house

of _Yorke_? which at length, besides millions of the commons,

brought to destruction all the[1078] nobility. For _Edward_ the

duke’s eldest son immediately after his[1079] father was slayn,

through help of the _Neuills_, gaue the king a battayle, whereat,

besides this _Clyfford_, and xxxvi thousand other souldiers, were

slain theyr captaynes, the earles[1080] of _Northumberland_ and

_Westmerland_, with the lordes _Dacres_ and _Welles_: the[1081]

winning of which fielde brought _Edward_ to the crowne, and

the losse draue king _Henry_ and his wife into _Scotland_. But

as few raignes begin without bloud, so king _Edward_ to keepe

order,[1082] caused _Thomas Courtney_ earle of _Deuonshyre_, and

_Iohn Veer_ earle of _Oxeforde_, and _Aubrey Veer_ eldest sonne

to the sayd earle, with diuers[1083] other his enemies,[1084]

to bee attaynted and put to death. And shortly after he[1085]

did execution vpon the duke of _Somerset_, and the lordes

_Hungerford_ and _Rosse_, whom he toke prisoners at _Exham_

fielde. For thither they came with[1086] king _Henry_ out of

_Scotland_, with an army of _Scottes_, and fought a battayle,

which was lost, and the most[1087] part of them slayn.[1088]

And because these are all noble men, I will leaue them to

_Baldwine’s_ discretion. But seyng the earle of _Worcester_ was

the chiefe instrument whom king _Edward_ vsed as well in these

men’s matters as in like bloudy affayres, because he should not

be forgotten, yee shall here what I haue noted concerning his

tragedy.”[1089]]

The infamovs end of the Lord _Tiptoft_ Earle

of Worcester, for cruelly executing his

Prince’s butcherly commaundementes,

An. 1470.[1090]

The glorious man is not so loth to lurke,

As the infamous glad to lye vnknowen:

Which makes mee, _Baldwine_, disalow thy worke,

Where prince’s faultes so openly be blowen:

I speake not this alonly for mine owne,

Which were my prince’s (if that they were any)

But for my peeres, in nombre very many.

Or might report vprightly vse her tong,

It would lesse greue vs to augment the matter,

But suer I am thou shalt be forst among,

To frayne the truth the liuing for to flatter,

And otherwhiles in poyntes vnknowen to smatter:

For time neuer was, nor neuer[1091] I thinke shalbe

That truth vnshent should speake in all thinges free.

This doth appeare (I dare say) by my story,

Which diuers writers diuersly declare:

But story writers ought for neyther glory,

Feare, nor fauour, truth of thinges to spare?

But still it fares as alway it did fare,

Affections, feare, or doubts that dayly brue,

Doe cause that stories neuer can be true.[1092]

Unfruitfull _Fabian_ followed the face

Of tyme and dedes, but let the causes slip:

Which _Hall_ hath added, but with double grace,[1093]

For feare I thinke lest trouble might him trip:

“For this or that,” sayeth he, “he felt the whip:”

Thus[1094] story wryters leaue the causes out,

Or so rehearse them as they were in dout.[1095]

But seing causes are the chiefest thinges

That should be noted of the story wryters,

That men may learne what endes all causes bringes,

They be vnworthy the[1096] name of chroniclers

That leaue them cleane out of theyr registers,

Or doubtfully report them: for the fruite

Of reading storyes standeth in the suite.

And therefore, _Baldwine_, eyther speake vpright[1097]

Of our affayres, or touch them not at all:

As for my selfe I way all thinges so light,

That nought I passe how men report my fall:

The truth whereof yet playnly shew I shall,

That thou mayst write and others thereby rede,

What thinges I did whereof they should take heede.

Thou hast heard of[1098] _Tiptoft’s_ earles of _Worcester_,

I am that lord that liu’d in _Edwarde’s_ days

The fourth, and was his friend and counsaylour,

And butcher to, as common rumor sayes:

But people’s voyce is neyther shame nor prayse,

For whom they would aliue deuoure to day,

To morow dead they will[1099] worship what they may.

But though the people’s verdit go by chaunce,

Yet was there cause to call mee as they did:

For I, enforst by meane of gouernaunce,

Did execute what euer[1100] my king did bid,

From blame herein my selfe I cannot rid:

But fye vpon the wretched state, that must

Defame it selfe, to serue the prince’s lust.

The cheifest crime wherewith men doe me charge,

Is death of th’[1101] earle of _Desmund’s_ noble sonnes,

Of which the kinge’s charge doth me clere discharge,

By strayt commaundement and iniunctions:

Th’effect whereof so rigorously runnes,

That eyther I must procure to see them dead,

Or for contempt as a traytour loose my head.[1102]

10.

What would mine enemies[1103] doe in such a case,

Obay the king or proper death procure?

They may well say theyr fancy for a face,

But life is sweete, and loue hard to recure:

They would haue done as I did, I am sure,

For seldom will a welthy man at ease

For other’s cause his prince in ought displease.

11.

How much lesse I, which was lieuetenaunt than

In th’[1104] _Irish_ isle, preferred by the king:

But who for loue or dread of any man,

Consents t’[1105] accomplish any wicked thing,

Although chiefe fault thereof from other spring,

Shall not escape God’s vengeance for his deede,

Who scuseth none that dare doe ill for drede.

12.

This in my king and mee may well appeare,

Which for our faultes did not escape the scourge:

For whan wee thought our state most sure and clere,

The wynd of _Warwicke_ blew vp such a sourge,

As from the realme and crowne the king did pourge,

And mee both from mine office,[1106] friendes, and wife,

From good report, from honest death and life.

13.

For the earle of _Warwicke_, through a cancarde grudge[1107]

Which to king _Edward_ causelesse hee did beare,

Out of his realme by force did make him trudge,

And set king _Henry_ agayne vpon his chaire:

And then all such as _Edwarde’s_ louers were,

As traytours tane were greuously opprest,

But chiefly I, because I lou’d him best.

14.

And, for[1108] my goods and liuinges were not small,

The gapers for them bare[1109] the world in hand

For ten yeares space, that I was cause of all

The executions done[1110] within the land:

For this did such as did not vnderstand

Mine enmies drift, thinke all reportes were true:

And so did[1111] hate mee worse then any Jewe.

15.

For seldom shall a ruler lose his life,

Before false rumors openly be spred:

Wherby this prouerbe is as true as rife,

That ruler’s rumors hunt about a head,

Frowne fortune once, all good report is fled:

For present shew doth make the mayny blind,

And such as see dare not disclose their minde.

16.

Through this was I king _Edward’s_ butcher named,

And bare the shame of all his cruell deedes:

I cleare me not, I worthely was blamed,

Though force was such I must obay him needes:

With hiest rulers seldome well it speedes,

For they be euer nerest to the nyp,

And fault who shall, for all feele they the whip.

17.

For whan I was by parliament attaynted,

King _Edward’s_ euils all were counted mine:

No truth auayled, so lies were faste and painted,

Which made the people at my life, repine,

Crying, “_Crucifige_, kill that butcher’s lyne:”

That when I should haue gone to _Blockham_ feast,

I could not passe, so sore they one me preast.

18.

And had not bene the officers so strong,

I thinke they would haue eaten[1112] me aliue,

Howbeit, hardly haled from the throng,

I was in the flete fast shrouded by the shriue:

Thus one daye’s life theyr malice did mee gieue,

Which whan they knew, for spite the next day after

They kept them calme, so suffered I the slaughter.

19.

Now tell mee, _Baldwine_, what fault dost thou finde

In mee, that iustly should such death deserue?

None sure except desire of honour blinde,

Which made mee seeke in offices to serue:

What minde so good that honours make not swerue?

So mayst thou see it only was my state

That caus’d my death, and brought mee so in hate.

20.

Warne therfore all men wisely to beware,

What offices they enterprise to beare:

The hiest alway most maligned are,

Of people’s grudge, and prince’s hate in feare.

For prince’s faults his faultors all men teare:

Which to auoyde, let none such office take,

Saue he that can for right his prince forsake.

[This earle’s[1113] tragedy was not so soone finished, but one

of the company had prouided for another of a notable person,

lord _Tiptoft’s_ chiefe enemy: concerning whom hee sayd: “Lord

God what trust is there in worldly chaunces? what stay in any

prosperity? for see the earle of _Warwicke_ which caused the

earle of _Worcester_ to be apprehended, attainted, and put to

deth, triumphing with his old imprisoned and new vnprisoned

prince, king _Henry_, was by and by after, and his brother

with him, slayn at _Barnet_ field by king _Edward_, whom hee

had before time damaged diuers wayes. As first by his friendes

at _Banbury_ fielde, where to reuenge the death of his cosin

_Henry[1114] Neuill_, syr _Iohn Coniers_, and _Iohn Clappam_, his

seruauntes, slue fiue thousand _Welshmen_, and beheaded theyr

captaynes, the earle of _Pembroke_ and syr _Richard Harbert_ his

brother, after they were yeelded prisoners: of whom syr _Richard

Harbert_ was the tallest gentilman both of his person and handes

that euer I read or heard of. At which time also, _Robin_ of

_Ridsdale_,[1115] a rebell of the earle of _Warwicke’s_ raysing,

tooke the earle _Riuers_, king _Edwarde’s_ wiue’s father, and

his sonne _Iohn_, at his manour of _Grafton_, and carried them

to _Northampton_, and there without cause or proces beheaded

them. Which spites to requite, king _Edward_ caused the lord

_Stafford_ of _Sowthwike_, one of _Warwicke’s_ chiefe frendes,

to be taken at _Brent march_, and headed at _Bridgewater_. This

caused the earle shortly to raise his power, to encounter the

king which came against him with an army, beside _Warwicke_ at

_Wolney_, where hee wan the field, tooke the king prisoner, and

kept him a while in _Yorkeshire_ in _Middleham_ castle: whence

(as some say) hee released him againe, but other thinke hee

corrupted hys keepers and so escaped. Then through the lords

the matter was taken vppe betweene them, and they brought to

talke togeather, but because they could not agree, the earle

araised a new army, whereof he made captayn the lord _Welles’_

sonne, which broile king _Edward_ minding to appease by pollicy,

fouly distained his honour, committing periury: for hee sent

for the lord _Welles_ and his brother sir _Thomas Dymocke_,

vnder safe conduite promising them vpon his fayth to keepe them

harmelesse. But after, because the lord _Welles’_ sonne would not

dissolue his army, beheaded them both and went with his power

into _Lincolnshire_ and there fought with sir _Robert Welles_,

and slewe ten thousand of his souldiers (yet ran they away so

fast, that casting of their clothes for the more speede, caused

it to bee called _Lose coate fielde_) and tooke sir _Robert_ and

other, and put them to death in the same place. This misfortune

forced the earle of _Warwicke_ to saile into _Fraunce_ where

hee was entertained of the king a while, and at last with such

poore helpe as hee procured there of duke _Rainer_ and other,

hee came into _England_ againe, and encreased such a power in

king _Henrie’s_ name, that as the lord _Typtofte_ sayd in his

tragedy, king _Edward_ vnable to abide him, was faine to flie

ouer the washes in _Lincolnshire_ to get a ship to saile out

of his kingdome to his brother in lawe the duke of _Burgoine_.

So was king _Henry_ restored againe to his[1116] kingdome. All

these despites and troubles the earle wrought against king

_Edward_. But _Henry_ was so infortunate that ere halfe a yeare

was expired, king _Edward_ came backe againe, and enprisoned him

and gaue the earle a fielde, wherein hee slewe both him and his

brother. I haue recounted thus much before hand for the better

opening of the story, which, if it should haue beene spoken in

his tragedy, would rather haue made a volume then a pamphlete.

For I entend onely to say in the tragedy, what I haue noted in

the earle of _Warwicke’s_ person, wishing that these other noble

men, whome I haue by the way touched, should not bee forgotten.

And therefore imagine that you see this earle lying with his

brother in _Paule’s_ church[1117] in his coate armoure, with such

a face and countinaunce as he beareth in portraiture ouer the

dore in _Paule’s_, at the going down to _Iesus_ chappell from the

south end of the quier stayres, and saying as followeth.”]

How Sir _Richard Neuill_ Earle of Warwicke,

and his brother _Iohn_, Lord Marquise

_Montacute_, through their too

much boldnesse were slaine at

Barnet, the 14 of Aprill,

Anno 1471.[1118]

Among the heauy heape of happy knightes,

Whome fortune stald vpon her staylesse stage,

Oft hoyst on hie, oft pight in wretched plights,

Behold mee, _Baldwine_, _a per se_ of my age,

Lord _Richard Neuill_, earle by maryage

Of _Warwicke_ duchy, of _Sarum_ by discent,

Which erst my father through his mariage hent.

Wouldst thou beholde false fortune in her kinde?

Note well my selfe, so shalt thou see her naked:

Full faire before, but too too foule behinde,

Most drowsy still whan most shee seemes awaked:

My fame and shame her shift full oft hath shaked,

By enterchaunge, alow, and vp aloft,

The lysard like, that chaungeth hew full oft.

For while the duke of _Yorke_ in life remaynde,

Mine vncle deare, I was his happy hand:

In all attempts my purpose I attaynde,

Though king, and queene, and most lordes of the land,

With all their power did often mee withstand:

For God gaue fortune, and my good behauiour

Did from their prince steale mee the people’s fauour.

So that through mee in fieldes right manly fought,

By force myne vncle tooke king _Henry_ twise:

As for my cosin _Edward_ I so[1119] wrought,

When both our siers were slaine through rash aduice,

That hee atchiefde his father’s enterprise:

For into _Scotland_ king and queene wee chased,

By meane whereof the kingdome hee embraced.

Which after hee had enioyed[1120] in quiet peace,

(For shortly after was king _Henry_ take,

And put in prison)[1121] his power to encrease,

I went to _Fraunce_ and match[1122] him with a make

The _French_ kinge’s daughter, whome hee did forsake:

For while with paine I brought this sute to passe,

Hee to a widdowe rashely wedded was.

This made the _French_ king shrewdly to mistrust,

That all my treaties had but ill pretence,

And when I sawe my king so bent to lust,

That with his fayth hee past not to dispence,

Which is a prince’s honour’s chiefe defence:

I could not rest till I had found a meane

To mend his misse, or els to marre him cleane.

[Wherefore] I mee allied[1123] with his brother _George_,

Incensing him his brother to maligne,

Through many a tale I did against him forge:

So that through power that wee from[1124] _Calais_ bring

And found at home, wee frayed so the king,

That hee did flie to[1125] _Freseland_ ward amayne,

Whereby king _Henry_ had the crowne againe.

Than put wee th’earle[1126] of _Worcester_ to death,

King _Edward’s_ friend, a man to foule[1127] defamed:

And in the while came _Edward_ into breath:

For with the duke of _Burgoine_ so hee framed,

That with the power that hee to him had named,

Unlooked for hee came to _England_ streight,

And got to _Yorke_, and tooke the towne by sleight.

And after through the sufferaunce of my brother,

Which like a beast occasion fouly lost,

Hee came to _London_ safe with many other,

And tooke the towne to good king _Henrie’s_ cost:

Who was through him from post to piller tost,

Till th’earle[1128] of _Oxforde_, I, and other more,

Assembled power his freedome to restore.

10.

Whereof king _Edward_ warned came with speede,

And camped with his hoast in _Barnet_ towne,

Where wee right fearce encountred him in deed

On _Easter_ day, right earely, on the downe:

There many a man was slaine and stricken downe,

On eyther side, and neither part did gaine,

Till that I and my brother both were slaine.[1129]

11.

For wee to hart[1130] our ouermatched men,

Forsooke our steedes, and in the thickest throng

Ran preacing forth on foote, and fought so then

That downe wee draue them were they neuer[1131] so strong:

But ere this lucke[1132] had lasted very long

With nomber and force wee were so fouly cloyed,[1133]

And rescue faylde, that quite wee were destroyed.

12.

Now tell mee, _Baldwine_, hast thou heard or read

Of any man that did as I haue done?

That in his time so many armies led,

And victory at euery voyage won?

Hast thou euer[1134] heard of subiect vnder sonne,

That plaast and baast his soueraignes[1135] so oft

By enterchaunge, now low, and than aloft?

13.

Perchaunce thou thinkst my doinges were not such

As I and other doe affirme they were:

And in thy minde I see thou musest much

What meanes I vsde, that should mee so prefer:

Wherein, because I will thou shalt not erre,

The truth of all I will at large recyte,

The short is this: I was no hypocrite.

14.

I neuer did nor sayd saue what I ment,

The common weale was still my chiefest care:

To priuate gayne or glory was I neuer bent,[1136]

I neuer past[1137] vpon delicious fare:

Of needefull food my bourd was neuer bare,

No creditour did curse mee day by day,

I vsed playnnesse, euer pitch and pay.

15.

I heard poore[1138] souldiers and poore workemen whine

Because theyr dutyes were not truely[1139] payde:

Agayne I saw how people did repine

At those through whom theyr payment was[1140] delayde:

And proofe did oft assure (as scripture sayd)

That God doth wreke the wretched people’s greues,

I saw the polls cut of fro polling theues.

16.

This made mee alway iustly for to deale,

Which whan the people playnly vnderstoode,

Because they saw mee mynd the common weale,

They still endeuoured how to doe mee good,

Ready to spend theyr substaunce, life, and bloud,

In any cause where to I did them moue:

For sure they were it was for theyr behoue.

17.

And so it was: for when the realme decayed

By such as good king _Henry_ sore abused,

To mend the state I gaue his enemies ayde:

But when king _Edward_ sinfull prankes still vsed,

And would not mend, I likewise him refused,

And holp _Henry_, better[1141] of the twayne,

And in his quarell (iust I thinke) was slayne.

18.

And therefore, _Baldwine_, teach by proofe of mee,

That such as couet people’s loue to get,

Must see theyr workes and wordes in all agree,

Liue liberally and keepe them out of det,

On common welth[1142] let all theyr care be set:

For vpright dealing, dets payd, poore sustayned,

Is meane whereby all heartes are throwly gayned.[1143]

[As soone as the earle had ended this admonition: “Sure,”

sayd[1144] one, “I thinke the earle of _Warwicke_ (although

hee were a glorious man) hath sayd no more of himselfe then

what is true. For if hee had not had notable good vertues, or

vertuous qualities, and vsed laudable meanes in his trade of

life, the people would neuer haue loued him as they did: but God

be with him, and send his soule rest, for sure his body neuer

had any. And although he dyed, yet ciuil warres ceased not.

For immediately after his death came queene _Margaret_ with a

power out of _Fraunce_, bringing with her her yong son prince

_Edward_: and with such friends as she found here, gaue king

_Edward_ a battayl at _Tewkesbury_, where both she and her son

were taken prisoners with _Eadmund_ duke of _Somerset_ her chiefe

captayne: whose son lord _Iohn_, and the earle of _Deuonshyre_

were slayn in fight,[1145] and the duke himselfe with diuers

other immediately beheaded. Whose infortunes are worthy to be

remembred, chiefly prince _Edward’s_, whome the king for speaking

trueth cruelly stroke with his gauntlet, and his brethren

tyrannously[1146] murdered. But seing the time so far spent, I

will passe them ouer, and with them _Fauconbridge_ that ioly

rouer beheaded at _Southampton_: whose commotion made in _Kent_,

was cause of sely _Henrye’s_ destruction. And seing king _Henry_

himselfe was cause of the destruction of many noble princes,

being of all other most infortunate himselfe, I will declare what

I haue noted in his vnlucky life: who wounded in prison with a

dagger, may lament his wretchednesse in maner following.”]

How King _Henry_ the sixte, a vertuous Prince,

was, after many other miseries, cruelly

murdered in the Tower of London, the

22 of May, Anno 1471.[1147]

If euer woefull wight had cause to rue his state,

Or by his ruefull plight to moue men mone his fate,

My piteous plaint may please my mishap to reherse,

Whereof the least most lightely heard, the hardest hart may perce.

What hart so hard can heare of innocence opprest

By fraud in worldly goods, but melteth in the brest?

Whan guiltlesse men bee spoilde, imprisoned for their owne,

Who waileth not their wretched case to whom the case is knowen?

The lyon licks[1148] the sores of seely wounded shepe,

The dead man’s corse may[1149] cause the crocodile to wepe,

The waues that waste the rocks refresh the rotten redes,

Such ruth the wrack of innocence in cruell creatures bredes.

What hart is then so hard but will for pity blede,

To heare so cruell lucke so cleare a life succede?

To see a seely soule with wo and sorrow sounst,[1150]

A king depriude, in prison pent, to death with daggers

dounst.[1151]

Would God the day of birth had brought me to my bere,

Then had I neuer felt the chaunge of fortune’s chere:

Would God the graue had gript me in her greedy woumbe,

Whan crown in cradle made me king with oyle of holy thoumbe.

Would God the rufull tombe had bene my royall throne,

So should no kingly charge haue made me make my mone:

O that my soule had flowen to heauen with the ioy,

Whan one sort cryed, God saue the king, another, _Viue le Roy_.

So had I not bene washt in waues of worldly wo,

My minde to quiet bent, had not bene tossed so:

My frendes had ben aliue: my subiects not opprest:[1152]

But death, or cruell destiny, denied me this rest.

Alas, what should we count the cause of wretches cares,

The starres do stirre them vp, astronomy declares:

Our[1153] humours, sayth the leache, the double true deuines

To th’[1154] will of God, or ill of man, the doubtfull cause

assignes.

Such doltish heades as dreame that all things driue by haps,

Count lacke of former care for cause of after claps,

Attributing to man a power fro God bereft,

Abusing vs, and robbing him, through their most wicked theft.

10.

But God doth guyde the world, and euery hap by skill,

Our wit, and willing power, are payzed by his will:

What wit most wisely wardes, and will most deadly vrkes,

Though all our powre would presse it downe, doth dash our

warest workes.

11.

Than desteny, our sinne, God’s will, or else his wreake,

Doe worke our wretched woes, for humours be too weake,

Except wee take them so, as they prouoke to sinne,

For through our lust by humours fed all vicious deedes beginne.

12.

So sinne and they be one, both working like effect,

And cause the wrath of God to wreake the soule infect,

Thus wrath and wreake deuine, man’s sinnes and humours ill,

Concurre in one, though in a sort, ech doth a course fulfill.

13.

If likewise such as say the welkin fortune warkes,

Take fortune for our fate and starres thereof the markes,

Then desteny with fate and God’s will all bee one:

But if they meane it otherwise, skath causers skies be none.

14.

Thus of our heauy haps, chiefe causes bee but twayne,

Whereon the rest depend, and vnder put remayne:

The chiefe the will deuine, calde desteny and fate,

The other sinne, through humour’s holpe, which God doth

highly hate.

15.

The first apoynteth payne for good men’s exercise,

The second doth deserue due punishment for vice:

This witnesseth the wrath, and that the loue of God,

The good for loue, the bad for sinne, God beateth with his rod.

16.

Although my sondry sinnes doe place mee with the worst,

My haps yet cause mee hope to bee among the fyrst:

The eye that searcheth all and seeth euery thought,

Is iudge how sore I hated sinne, and after vertue sought.

17.

The solace of my soule my chiefest pleasure was,

Of worldly pomp, of fame, or game, I did not passe:

My kingdomes nor my crowne I prised not a crum:

In heauen were my riches heapt, to which I sought to com.

18.

Yet were my sorrowes such as neuer man had like,

So diuers stormes at once, so often did mee strike:

But why, God knowes, not I, except it were for this,

To shewe by paterne of a prince, how brittle honour is.

19.

Our kingdomes are but cares, our state deuoide of stay,

Our riches ready snares, to hasten our decay:

Our pleasures priuy prickes, our vices to prouoke,

Our pompe a pumpe, our fame a flame, our power a smouldring smoke.

20.

I speake not but by proofe, and that may many rue,

My life doth cry it out, my death doth try it true:

Whereof I will in brefe rehearse the[1155] heauy hap,

That, _Baldwine_, in his woefull warpe, my wretchednes may wrap.

21.

In _Windsore_ borne I was, and bare my father’s name,

Who wonne by warre all _Fraunce_ to his eternall fame,

And left to mee the crowne, to bee receiued in peace

Through mariage made with _Charles_ his heyre, vpon his

life’s decease.

22.

Which shortly did ensue, yet died my father furst,

And both the[1156] realmes were mine, ere I a yeare were nurst:

Which as they fell too soone, so faded they as fast:

For _Charles_, and _Edward_, got them both or forty yeares

were past.

23.

This _Charles_ was eldest sonne of _Charles_ my father in lawe,

To whome as heire of _Fraunce_, the _Frenchmen_ did them draw,

But _Edward_ was the heire of _Richard_ duke of _Yorke_,

The heyre of _Roger Mortimer_, slaine by the kerne of _Korke_.

24.

Before I came to age _Charles_ had recouered _Fraunce_,

And kild my men of warre, so happy was his chaunce:

And through a mad contract I made with _Raynerd’s_ daughter

I gaue and lost all _Normandy_, the cause of many a slaughter.

25.

First of mine vncle _Humfrey_, abhorring sore this act,

Because I thereby brake a better precontract:

Than of the flattering duke that first the mariage made,

The iust rewarde of such as dare theyr princes ill perswade.

26.

And I poore sely wretch abode the brunt of all,

My mariadge lust so sweete was mixt with bitter gall:

My wife was wise and good, had she ben rightly sought,

But our vnlawfull getting it, may make a good thing nought.

27.

Wherefore warne men beware how they iust promise breake,

Least proofe of paynfull plagues do cause them wayle the wreake,

Aduise well ere they graunt, but what they graunt performe:

For God will plague all doublenes although we feele no worme.

28.

I falsly borne in hand, beleued I did well,

But all thinges bee not true that learned men doe tell:

My clergy sayd a prince was to no promise bound,

Whose wordes to be no gospell tho, I to my griefe haue found.

29.

For after mariage ioynde queene _Margaret_ and mee,

For one mishap afore, I dayly met with three:

Of _Normandy_ and _Fraunce_, _Charles_ got away my crowne,

The duke of _Yorke_ and other sought at home to put mee downe.

30.

Bellona rang the bell at home and all abroade,

With whose mishaps amayne fell fortune did mee lode:

In _Fraunce_ I lost my forts, at home the foughten field,

My kinred slayn, my friendes opprest, my selfe enforst to yeeld.

31.

Duke _Richard_ tooke mee twise, and forste mee to resine

My crowne and titles, due vnto my father’s lyne:

And kept mee as a warde, did all thinges as him list,

Till that[1157] my wife through bloudy sword had tane me

from[1158] his fist.

32.

But though we[1159] slew the duke my sorrowes did not slake,

But like to _Hydrae’s_ head still more and more awake:

For _Edward_, through the ayde of _Warwicke_ and his brother,

From one field draue mee to the _Scots_, and toke me in another.

33.

Then went my friendes to wracke, for _Edward_ ware the crowne,

From[1160] which for nine yeares space his pryson held me downe:

Yet thence through _Warwicke’s_ worke I was agayne releast,

And _Edward_ driuen fro the realme, to seeke his friendes by east.

34.

But what preuayleth paine, or prouidence of man,

To help him to good hap, whom destiny doth ban?

Who moyleth to remoue the rocke out of the mud,

Shall myre himselfe, and hardly scape the swelling of the flud.

35.

This all my friendes haue founde, and I haue felt it so,

Ordaynd to be the touch of wretchednes and woe:

For ere I had a yeare possest my seat agayne,

I lost both it and liberty, my helpers all were slaine.

36.

For _Edward_ first by stelth, and sith by gathred strength,

Arriude, and got to _Yorke_ and _London_ at the length:

Tooke mee and tyed mee vp, yet _Warwicke_ was so stout,

Hee came with power to _Barnet_ fielde, in hope to helpe mee out:

37.

And there, alas, was slaine, with many a worthy knight:

O Lord, that euer such lucke should hap in helping right:

Last came my wife and sonne, that long lay in exile,

Defied the king, and fought a fielde, I may bewaile the while.

38.

For there mine onely sonne, not thirteene yeares of age,

Was tane, and murdered straight by _Edward_ in his rage:

And shortly I my selfe, to stint all furder strife,

Stabde with his brother’s bloudy blade in prison lost my life.

39.

Lo, here the heauy haps which happened mee by heape,

See here the pleasaunt fruites that many princes reape,

The painefull plagues of those that breake theyr lawfull bandes,

Their meede which may and will not saue their friendes fro

bloudy handes.

40.

God graunt my woefull haps, too greeuous to rehearce,

May teach all states to knowe, howe deepely daungers pearce,

How fraile all honours are, how brittle worldly blisse,

That warned through my fearefull fate, they feare to doe

amisse.[1161]

[This tragedy ended, another sayd: “Either you or king _Henry_

are a good philosopher, so narowly to argue the causes of

misfortunes? but there is nothing to experience which taught,

or might teach the king this lesson. But to proceede in our

matter, I finde mention here, shortly after the death of this

king, of a duke of _Excester_ found dead in the sea betweene

_Douer_ and _Calais_, but what hee was, or by what aduenture hee

died, maister _Fabian_ hath not shewed, and maister _Hall_ hath

ouerskipped him: so that except wee be friendlier vnto him, hee

is like to be double drowned, both in sea, and in the gulfe of

forgetfulnes.” About this matter was much talke, but because

one tooke vpon him to seeke out that story, that charge was

committed to him. And to bee occupied in the meane while, I haue

found the story of one drowned likewise, and that so notably,

though priuely, that all the world knew of it: wherefore I sayd:

“Because night approacheth, and that wee will lose no time, yee

shall heare what I haue noted concerning the duke of _Clarence_,

king _Edward’s_ brother, who all to bee washed in wine, may

bewayle his infortune after this maner.”]

Death (as tis sayd) doth set all things at rest,