Femineus verè dolor est post facta dolere.]

[Sidenote: O dissimulation.]

[Sidenote: This that is here betwéene this marke (*) & this marke (*)

was not written by him in English but is translated out of his historie

which he wrote in Latine.]

When the lord cardinall, and these other lords with him, had receiued

this yoong duke, they brought him into the Star-chamber, where the

protector tooke him in his armes and kissed him with these words:

Now welcome my lord euen with all my verie heart. And he said in that

of likelihood as he thought. Therevpon foorthwith they brought him

vnto the king his brother into the bishops palace at Paules, and from

thense thorough the citie honourablie into the Tower, out of the which

after that daie they neuer came abroad. (*) When the protector had

both the children in his hands, he opened himselfe more boldlie, both

to certeine other men, and also cheeflie to the duke of Buckingham.

Although I know that manie thought that this duke was priuie to all

the protectors counsell, euen from the beginning; and some of the

protectors fréends said, that the duke was the first moouer of the

protector to this matter, sending a priuie messenger vnto him, streict

after king Edwards death.

But others againe, which knew better the subtill wit of the protector,

denie that he euer opened his enterprise to the duke, vntill he

had brought to passe the things before rehearsed. But when he had

imprisoned the quéenes kinsfolks, & gotten both his sonnes into his

owne hands, then he opened the rest of his purpose with lesse feare

to them whome he thought méet for the matter, and speciallie to the

duke, who being woone to his purpose, he thought his strength more than

halfe increased. The matter was broken vnto the duke by subtill folks,

and such as were their craftes-masters in the handling of such wicked

deuises: who declared vnto him that the yoong king was offended with

him for his kinsfolks sake, and if he were euer able he would reuenge

them, who would pricke him forward therevnto if they escaped (for they

would remember their imprisonment) or else it they were put to death,

without doubt the yoong K. would be carefull for their deaths, whose

imprisonment was gréeuous vnto him.

Also that with repenting the duke should nothing auaile, for there was

no waie left to redéeme his offense by benefits, but he should sooner

destroie himselfe than saue the king, who with his brother and his

kinsfolks he saw in such places imprisoned, as the protector might

with a becke destroie them all: and that it were no doubt but he would

doo it in déed, if there were anie new enterprise attempted. And that

it was likelie, that as the protector had prouided priuie gard for

himselfe, so had he spials for the duke, and traines to catch him, if

he should be against him; and that peraduenture from them, whome he

lest suspected. For the state of things and the dispositions of men

were then such, that a man could not well tell whome he might trust, or

whom he might feare.

[Sidenote: The dukes full resolution, to go thorough with his

enterprise.]

These things and such like, being beaten into the dukes mind, brought

him to that point, that where he had repented the way that he had

entered; yet would he go foorth in the same; and sith he had once

begun, he would stoutlie go thorough. And therefore to this wicked

enterprise, which he beléeued could not be voided, he bent himselfe,

and went through; and determined, that sith the common mischéefe could

not be amended, he would turne it as much as he might to his owne

commoditie. Then it was agréed, that the protector shuld haue the dukes

aid to make him king, and that the protectors onelie lawfull sonne

should marrie the dukes daughter, and that the protector should grant

him the quiet possession of the earldome of Hereford, which he claimed

as his inheritance, and could neuer obteine it in king Edwards time.

Besides these requests of the duke, the protector of his owne

mind promised him a great quantitie of the kings treasure, and of

his houshold stuffe. And when they were thus at a point betwéene

themselues, they went about to prepare for the coronation of the yoong

king, as they would haue it séeme. And that they might turne both the

eies and minds of men from perceiuing of their drifts other-where, the

lords being sent for from all parts of the realme, came thicke to that

solemnitie. But the protector and the duke, after that they had sent

the lord cardinall, the archbishop of Yorke then lord chancellor, the

bishop of Elie, the lord Stanleie, and the lord Hastings then lord

chamberlaine, with manie other noble men (*) to common & deuise about

the coronation in one place, as fast were they in an other place,

contriuing the contrarie, and to make the protector king.

To which councell albeit there were adhibited verie few, and they were

secret: yet began there here and there abouts, some maner of muttering

among the people, as though all should not long be well, though they

neither wist what they feared, nor wherefore: were it, that before

such great things, mens hearts of a secret instinct of nature misgiue

them; as the sea without wind swelleth of himselfe sometime before a

tempest: or were it that some one man, happilie somewhat perceiuing,

filled manie men with suspicion, though he shewed few men what he

knew. Howbeit somewhat the dealing it selfe made men to muse on the

matter, though the councell were close. For by little and little all

folke withdrew from the Tower, and drew vnto Crosbies in Bishops gates

stréet, where the protector kept his houshold. The protector had the

resort, the king in maner desolate.

While some for their businesse made sute to them that had the dooing,

some were by their fréends secretlie warned, that it might happilie

turne them to no good, to be too much attendant about the king without

the protectors appointment, which remooued also diuerse of the princes

old seruants from him, and set new about him. Thus manie things comming

togither, partlie by chance, partlie of purpose, caused at length not

common people onelie, that woond with the wind, but wise men also,

and some lords eke to marke the matter and muse thereon; so farre

foorth that the lord Stanleie that was after earle of Derbie, wiselie

mistrusted it, and said vnto the lord Hastings, that he much misliked

these two seuerall counccels. For while we (quoth he) talke of one

matter in the tone place, little wot we wherof they talke in the tother

place.

[Sidenote: Catesbie and his conditions described.]

My lord (quoth the lord Hastings) on my life neuer doubt you: for while

one man is there, which is neuer thense, neuer can there be thing once

mooued, that should sound amisse toward me, but it should be in mine

eares yer it were well out of their mouths. This ment he by Catesbie,

which was of his néere secret councell, and whome he verie familiarlie

vsed, and in his most weightie matters put no man in so speciall trust,

reckoning himselfe to no man so liefe, sith he well wist there was no

man so much to him beholden as was this Catesbie, which was a man well

learned in the lawes of this land, and by the speciall fauour of the

lord chamberlaine, in good authoritie, and much rule bare in all the

countie of Leicester, where the lord chamberlains power cheeflie laie.

But suerlie great pitie was it, that he had not had either more truth,

or lesse wit. For his dissimulation onelie kept all that mischéefe vp.

In whome if the lord Hastings had not put so speciall trust, the lord

Stanleie & he had departed with diuerse other lords, and broken all the

danse, for manie ill signs that he saw, which he now construes all to

the best. So suerlie thought he, that there could be none harme toward

him in that councell intended, where Catesbie was. And of truth the

protector and the duke of Buckingham made verie good semblance vnto

the lord Hastings, and kept him much in companie. And vndoubtedlie the

protector loued him well, and loth was to haue lost him, sauing for

feare least his life should haue quailed their purpose.

For which cause he mooued Catesbie to prooue with some words cast

out a farre off, whether he could thinke it possible to win the lord

Hastings vnto their part. But Catesbie, whether he assaied him, or

assaied him not, reported vnto them, that he found him so fast, and

heard him speake so terrible words, that he durst no further breake.

And of truth, the lord chamberlaine of verie trust shewed vnto Catesbie

the distrust that others began to haue in the matter. And therefore

he, fearing least their motion might with the lord Hastings minish

his credence, wherevnto onelie all the matter leaned, procured the

protector hastilie to rid him. And much the rather, for that he trusted

by his death to obteine much of the rule that the lord Hastings bare in

his countrie: the onelie desire whereof was the allectiue that induced

him to be partner, and one speciall contriuer of all this horrible

treason.

[Sidenote: An assemblie of lords in the Tower.]

Wherevpon soone after, that is to wit, on the fridaie [being the

thirtéenth of Iune] manie lords assembled in the Tower, and there

sat in councell, deuising the honourable solemnitie of the kings

coronation, of which the time appointed then so néere approched, that

the pageants and subtilties were in making daie & night at Westminster,

and much vittels killed therfore, that afterward was cast awaie. These

lords so sitting togither communing of this matter, the protector

came in amongst them, first about nine of the clocke, saluting them

courteouslie, and excusing himselfe that he had béene from them so

long, saieng merilie that he had béene a sléeper that daie.

[Sidenote: The behauior of the lord protector in the assemblie of the

lords.]

After a little talking with them, he said vnto the bishop of Elie;

My lord you haue verie good strawberies at your garden in Holborne,

I require you let vs haue a messe of them. Gladlie my lord (quoth

he) would God I had some better thing as readie to your pleasure as

that! And therewithall in all the hast he sent his seruant for a

messe of strawberies. The protector set the lords fast in communing,

and therevpon praieng them to spare him for a little while, departed

thense. And soone after one houre, betwéene ten & eleuen he returned

into the chamber amongst them all, changed with a woonderfull soure

angrie countenance, knitting the browes, frowning and fretting, and

gnawing on his lips: and so sat him downe in his place.

All the lords were much dismaid and sore maruelled at this maner of

sudden change, and what thing should him aile. Then, when he had sitten

still a while, thus he began: What were they worthie to haue that

compasse and imagine the destruction of me, being so néere of bloud

vnto the king, and protector of his roiall person and his realme? At

this question, all the lords sat sore astonied, musing much by whome

this question should be meant, of which euerie man wist himselfe

cléere. Then the lord chamberlaine (as he that for the loue betwéene

them thought he might be boldest with him) answered and said, that

they were worthie to be punished as heinous traitors, whatsoeuer they

were. And all the other affirmed the same. That is (quoth he) yonder

sorceresse my brothers wife, and other with hir (meaning the quéene.)

At these words manie of the other lords were greatlie abashed, that

fauoured hir. But the lord Hastings was in his mind better content,

that it was mooued by hir, than by anie other whome he loued better:

albeit his heart somewhat grudged, that he was not afore made of

counsell in this matter, as he was of the taking of hir kinred, and of

their putting to death, which were by his assent before deuised to be

beheaded at Pomfret this selfe same daie, in which he was not ware that

it was by other deuised, that he himselfe should be beheaded the same

daie at London. Then said the protector: Ye shall all sée in what wise

that sorceresse, and that other witch of hir counsell Shores wife, with

their affinitie, haue by their sorcerie and witchcraft wasted my bodie.

And therwith he plucked vp his dublet sléeue to his elbow vpon his left

arme, where he shewed a weerish withered arme, and small; as it was

neuer other.

Herevpon euerie mans mind sore misgaue them, well perceiuing that this

matter was but a quarrell. For they well wist that the quéene was too

wise to go about anie such follie. And also if she would, yet would

she of all folke least, make Shores wife of hir counsell, whome of all

women she most hated, as that concubine whome the king hir husband had

most loued. And also, no man was there present, but well knew that his

arme was euer such since his birth. Nathelesse, the lord chamberlaine

(which from the death of king Edward kept Shores wife, on whome he

somewhat doted in the kings life, sauing (as it is said) he that while

forbare hir of reuerence toward the king, else of a certeine kind of

fidelitie to his fréend) answered and said: Certeinelie my lord, if

they haue so heinouslie doone, they be worthie heinous punishment.

[Sidenote: The lord Stanleie wounded.]

What (quoth the protector) thou seruest me I wéene with ifs and with

ands, I tell thée they haue so doone, and that I will make good on thy

bodie traitor: and therewith as in a great anger, he clapped his fist

vpon the boord a great rap. At which token one cried, Treason, without

the chamber. Therewith a doore clapped, and in come there rushing men

in harnesse, as manie as the chamber might hold. And anon the protector

said to the lord Hastings: I arrest thée traitor: What me my lord?

(quoth he.) Yea thée traitor quoth the protector. And an other let flie

at the lord Stanleie, which shrunke at the stroke, & fell vnder the

table, or else his head had béene cleft to the téeth: for as shortlie

as he shranke, yet ran the bloud about his eares.

[Sidenote: Lord Hastings lord chamberleine beheaded.]

Then were they all quickelie bestowed in diuerse chambers, except the

lord chamberleine, whome the protector bad spéed and shriue him apace,

for by saint Paule (quoth he) I will not to dinner till I sée thy head

off. It booted him not to aske whie, but heauilie tooke a priest at

aduenture, & made a short shrift: for a longer would not be suffered,

the protector made so much hast to dinner, which he might not go to,

vntill this were doone, for sauing of his oth. So was he brought foorth

to the gréene beside the chappell within the Tower, and his head laid

downe vpon a long log of timber, and there striken off, and afterward

his bodie with the head interred at Windsor beside the bodie of king

Edward, both whose soules our Lord pardon. [Thus began he to establish

his kingdome in bloud, growing thereby in hatred of the nobles, and

also abridging both the line of his life, and the time of his regiment:

for God will not haue bloudthirstie tyrants daies prolonged, but will

cut them off in their ruffe; according to Dauids words:

[Sidenote: _Buchan. in psal. 55._]

Impio, fallaci, auidoque cædis

Fila mors rumpet viridi in iuuenta.]

[Sidenote: The lord Stanleie's dreame.]

A maruellous case is it to heare either the warnings of that he should

haue voided, or the tokens of that he could not void. For the selfe

night next before his death, the lord Stanleie sent a trustie messenger

vnto him at midnight in all the hast, requiring him to rise and ride

awaie with him, for he was disposed vtterlie no longer to bide, he

had so fearfull a dreame; in which him thought that a boare with his

tuskes so rased them both by the heads, that the bloud ran about both

their shoulders. And forsomuch as the protector gaue the boare for his

cognisance, this dreame made so fearfull an impression in his heart,

that he was throughlie determined no longer to tarrie, but had his

horsse readie, if the lord Hastings would go with him, to ride yet so

farre the same night, that they should be out of danger yer daie.

Ha good Lord (quoth the lord Hastings to this messenger) leaneth my

lord thy maister so much to such trifles, and hath such faith in

dreames, which either his owne feare fantasieth, or doo rise in the

nights rest by reason of his daies thought? Tell him it is plaine

witchcraft to beléeue in such dreames, which if they were tokens of

things to come, why thinketh he not that we might be as likelie to make

them true by our going, if we were caught & brought backe, as fréends

faile fliers; for then had the boare a cause likelie to rase vs with

his tusks, as folke that fled for some falsehood. Wherefore, either is

there perill, or none there is in déed: or if anie be, it is rather in

going than biding. And in case we should néeds fall in perill one waie

or other, yet had I rather that men should sée that it were by other

mens falsehood, than thinke it were either by our owne fault, or faint

heart. And therefore go to thy maister (man) and commend me to him, &

praie him be merrie & haue no feare: for I insure him I am as sure of

the man that he woteth of, as I am of mine owne hand. God send grace

sir (quoth the messenger) and went his waie.

[Sidenote: Foretokens of imminent misfortune to the lord Hastings.]

Certeine is it also, that in riding towards the Tower, the same morning

in which he was beheaded, his horsse twise or thrise stumbled with

him, almost to the falling. Which thing albeit ech man wote well

dailie happeneth to them, to whom no such mischance is toward; yet hath

it béene of an old rite and custome obserued, as a token oftentimes

notablie foregoing some great misfortune. Now this that followeth was

no warning, but an enuious scorne. The same morning yer he was vp, came

a knight vnto him, as it were of courtesie, to accompanie him to the

councell; but of truth sent by the protector to hast him thitherwards,

with whome he was of secret confederacie in that purpose; a meane man

at that time and now of great authoritie.

This knight (I say) when it happened the lord chamberleine by the waie

to staie his horsse, & common a while with a priest whome he met in the

Tower stréet, brake his tale, and said merilie to him; What my lord, I

pray you come on, whereto talke you so long with that priest? you haue

no néed of a priest yet: and therwith he laughed vpon him, as though he

would say, Ye shall haue soone. But so little wist the tother what he

ment, and so little mistrusted, that he was neuer merrier, nor neuer

so full of good hope in his life, which selfe thing is oft séene a

signe of change. But I shall rather let anie thing passe me, than the

vaine suertie of mans mind so néere his death [flattering himselfe with

deceitfull conceipts of inward motions of life to be prolonged, euen in

present cases of deadlie danger, and heauie misfortunes offering great

mistrust; as he did that is noted for speaking like a foole:

[Sidenote: _Mani. lib. 4. Astro._]

Non est (crede mihi) sapientis dicere, Viuam:

Nascentes morimur, finísq; ab origine pendet.]

Vpon the verie Tower wharfe, so néere the place where his head was off

soone after, there met he with one Hastings a purseuant of his owne

name. And at their méeting in that place, he was put in remembrance

of another time, in which it had happened them before to méet in

like manner togither in the same place. At which other time the lord

chamberleine had béene accused vnto king Edward by the lord Riuers the

quéenes brother, in such wise, as he was for the while (but it lasted

not long) farre fallen into the kings indignation, & stood in great

feare of himselfe. And forsomuch as he now met this purseuant in the

same place, that ieopardie so well passed, it gaue him great pleasure

to talke with him thereof, with whome he had before talked thereof in

the same place, while he was therein.

And therefore he said: Ha Hastings, art thou remembred when I met thée

here once with an heauie heart? Yea my lord (quoth he) that remember I

well, and thanked be God, they gat no good, nor you no harme thereby.

Thou wouldest say so (quoth he) if thou knewest as much as I know,

which few know else as yet, and mo shall shortlie. That meant he by the

lords of the quéenes kinred that were taken before, and should that

daie be beheaded at Pomfret: which he well wist, but nothing ware that

the ax hung ouer his owne head. In faith man (quoth he) I was neuer so

sorie, nor neuer stood in so great dread in my life, as I did when thou

and I met here. And lo how the world is turned, now stand mine enimies

in the danger (as thou maiest hap to heare more hereafter) and I neuer

in my life so merrie, nor neuer in so great suertie.

[Sidenote: The description of the lord Hastings.]

O good God, the blindnesse of our mortall nature, when he most feared,

he was in good suertie; when he reckoned himselfe surest, he lost his

life, and that within two houres after. Thus ended this honorable man,

a good knight and a gentle, of great authoritie with his prince, of

liuing somewhat dissolute, plaine and open to his enimie, & secret to

his friend, easie to beguile, as he that of good heart and courage

forestudied no perils, a louing man, and passing well beloued: verie

faithfull, and trustie inough, trusting too much. Now flew the fame

of this lords death swiftlie through the citie, and so foorth further

about like a wind in euerie mans eare. But the protector, immediatlie

after dinner, intending to set some colour vpon the matter, sent in all

the hast for manie substantiall men out of the citie into the tower.

Now at their comming, himselfe with the duke of Buckingham, stood

harnessed in old ill faring briganders, such as no man should wéene,

that they would vouchsafe to haue put vpon their backs, except that

some sudden necessitie had constreined them. And then the protector

shewed them, that the lord chamberleine, and other of his conspiracie,

had contriued to haue suddenlie destroied him, and the duke, there the

same day in the councell. And what they intended further, was as yet

not well knowne. Of which their treason he neuer had knowledge before

ten of the clocke the same forenoone, which sudden feare draue them to

put on for their defense such harnesse as came next to hand. And so had

God holpen them, that the mischiefe turned vpon them that would haue

doone it. And this he required them to report.

[Sidenote: The protectors proclamation.]

Euerie man answered him faire, as though no man mistrusted the matter,

which of truth no man beléeued. Yet for the further appeasing of the

peoples minds, he sent immediatlie after diner in all the hast one

herald of armes, with a proclamation to be made through the citie in

the kings name, conteining, that the lord Hastings, with diuerse other

of his traitorous purposes, had before conspired the same day to haue

slaine the lord protector, and the duke of Buckingham sitting in the

councell; and after to haue taken vpon them to rule the king & the

realme at their pleasure, and therby to pill and spoile whome they

list vncontrolled. And much matter there was in that proclamation,

deuised to the slander of the lord chamberleine, as that he was an ill

councellor to the kings father, intising him to manie things highlie

redounding to the minishing of his honour, and to the vniuersall hurt

of the realme.

[Sidenote: The life and déeds of the lord chamberlaine laid open.]

The meanes whereby; namelie, his euill companie, sinister procuring,

and vngratious example, as well in manie other things, as in the

vicious liuing and inordinate abusion of his bodie, with manie other,

and also speciallie with Shores wife, which was one also of his most

secret counsell in this most heinous treason, with whome he laie

nightlie, and namelie the night last past next before his death.

So that it was the lesse maruell, if vngratious liuing brought him

to an vnhappie ending, which he was now put vnto by the most dread

commandement of the kings highnesse, and of his honorable and faithfull

councell, both for his demerits, being so openlie taken in his falslie

conceiued treason, and also least the delaieng of his execution might

haue incouraged other mischiefous persons, partners of his conspiracie,

to gather and assemble themselues togither, in making some great

commotion for his deliuerance: whose hope being now by his well

deserued death politikelie repressed, all the realme should (by Gods

grace) rest in good quiet and peace.

Now was this proclamation made within two houres after that he was

beheaded, and it was so curiouslie indicted, & so faire written in

parchment, in so well a set hand, and therewith of it selfe so long a

processe, that euerie child might well perceiue that it was prepared

before. For all the time, betwéene his death and the proclaming, could

scant haue sufficed vnto the bare writing alone, all had it béene but

in paper, and scribled foorth in hast at aduenture. So that vpon the

proclaming thereof, one that was schoolemaister of Powles of chance

standing by, and comparing the shortnesse of the time with the length

of the matter, said vnto them that stood about him; Here is a gaie

goodlie cast foule cast awaie for hast. And a merchant answered him,

that it was written by prophesie.

[Sidenote: Shores wife spoiled of all that she had.]

Now then by and by, as it were for anger, not for couetise, the

protector sent into the house of Shores wife (for hir husband dwelled

not with hir) and spoiled hir of all that euer she had, aboue the value

of two or thrée thousand markes, and sent hir bodie to prison. And when

he had a while laid vnto hir (for the maner sake) that she went about

to bewitch him, and that she was of counsell with the lord chamberleine

to destroie him: in conclusion, when that no colour could fasten vpon

these matters, then he laid heinouslie to hir charge, that thing that

hir selfe could not denie, and that all the world wist was true, and

that nathelesse euerie man laughed at, to heare it then so suddenlie so

highlie taken, that shée was naught of hir bodie.

[Sidenote: Shores wife put to open penance.]

And for this cause (as a goodlie continent prince, cleane and

faultlesse of himselfe, sent out of heauen into this vicious world for

the amendment of mens maners) he caused the bishop of London to put hir

to open penance, going before the crosse in procession vpon a sundaie

with a taper in hir hand. In which she went in countenance and pase

demure so womanlie; that albeit she were out of all araie, saue hir

kirtle onelie, yet went she so faire and louelie, namelie while the

woondering of the people cast a comelie rud in hir cheeks (of which she

before had most misse) that hir great shame wan hir much praise among

those that were more amorous of hir bodie, than curious of hir soule.

And manie good folks also that hated hir liuing, & glad were to sée

sin corrected: yet pitied they more hir penance, than reioised therin,

when they considered that the protector procured it, more of a corrupt

intent, than anie vertuous affection.

[Sidenote: The descripti[=o] of Shores wife.]

This woman was borne in London, worshipfullie friended, honestlie

brought vp, and verie well maried, sauing somewhat too soone, hir

husband an honest citizen, yoong and goodlie, & of good substance. But

forsomuch as they were coupled yer she were well ripe, she not verie

feruentlie loued him, for wh[=o] she neuer longed, which was happilie

the thing that the more easilie made hir incline vnto the kings

appetite, when he required hir. Howbeit the respect of his roialtie,

the hope of gaie apparell, ease, and other wanton wealth, was able

soone to pearse a soft tender heart, [so that she became flexible and

pliant to the kings appetite and will; being so blinded with the bright

glorie of the present courtlie brauerie which shée inioied, that she

vtterlie forgat how excellent a treasure good name and fame is, and of

what incomparable sweetnesse, euen by the iudgement of him, whose match

for wisdome the world neuer bred vp, saieng:

[Sidenote: _Eob. Hess. in Eccles. Sal._]

Sunt optanda magis puræ bona nomina famæ,

Nobilis vnguenti quàm pretiosus odor.]

But when the king had abused hir, anon hir husband (as he was an honest

man, and one that could his good, not presuming to touch a kings

concubine) left hir vp to him altogither. When the king died, the lord

chamberleine tooke hir, which in the kings daies, albeit he was sore

inamoured vpon hir, yet he forbare hir; ether for reuerence, or for a

certeine friendlie faithfulnesse. Proper she was and faire; nothing

in hir bodie that you would haue changed, but if ye would haue wished

hir somewhat higher. Thus saie they that knew hir in hir youth. Albeit

some that now sée hir (for yet[3] she liueth) deem hir neuer to haue

béene well visaged: whose iudgement séemeth me somewhat like, as though

men should gesse the beautie of one long before departed by hir scalpe

taken out of the charnell house.

[3] Meaning when this storie was written.

[Sidenote: K. Edwards thrée concubines.]

For now is she old, leane, withered and dried vp, nothing left but

riuelled skin and hard bone. And yet being euen such, who so well

aduise hir visage, might gesse and deuise, which parts how filled would

make it a faire face. Yet delighted not men so much in hir beautie,

as in hir pleasant behauiour. For a proper wit had she, and could

both read well and write, merrie in companie, readie and quicke of

answer, neither mute, nor full of bable, sometime tawnting without

displeasure, and not without disport. The king would saie that he had

thrée concubines, which in thrée diuerse properties diuerslie excelled.

One the merriest, another the wiliest, the third the holiest harlot in

his realme, as one whome no man could get out of the church lightlie to

any place, but it were to his bed.

The other two were somewhat greater personages, and nathelesse of their

humilitie content to be namelesse, and to forbeare the praise of those

properties: but the merriest was this Shores wife, in whom the king

therefore tooke speciall pleasure. For manie he had, but hir he loued;

whose fauour to say the truth (for sin it were to beelie the diuell)

she neuer abused to anie mans hurt, but to manie a mans comfort and

reléefe. Where the king tooke displeasure, shée would mitigate and

appease his mind: where men were out of fauour, she would bring them in

his grace. For manie that had highlie offended shée obteined pardon. Of

great forfeitures she gat men remission.

Finallie, in manie weightie sutes she stood manie a man in great stead,

either for none or verie small rewards, and those rather gaie than

rich; either that she was content with the déed it selfe well doone;

or for that she delighted to be sued vnto, and to shew what she was

able to doo with the king; or for that wanton women and wealthie be

not alwaies courteous. I doubt not some shall thinke this woman too

slight a thing to be written of, and set among the remembrances of

great matters: which they shall speciallie thinke, that happilie shall

estéeme hir onelie by that they now sée hir.

But me séemeth the chance so much the more worthie to be remembred, in

how much she is now in the more beggerlie condition, vnfréended and

worne out of acquaintance, after good substance, after as great fauour

with the prince, after as great sute and séeking to with all those,

that those daies had businesse to spéed; as manie other men were in

their times, which be now famous onelie by the infamie of their ill

déeds. Hir dooings were not much lesse, albeit they be much lesse

remembred, bicause they were not so euill. For men vse if they haue an

euill turne, to write it in marble: and who so dooth vs a good turne,

we write it in dust, which is not worst prooued by hir: for at this

daie she beggeth of manie at this daie liuing, that at this daie had

begged if she had not béene.

[Sidenote: Sir Richard Ratcliffe.]

Now was it so deuised by the protector and his councell, that the

selfe daie, in which the lord chamberleine was beheaded in the Tower

of London, and about the selfe same houre, was there (not without his

assent) beheaded at Pomfret, the foreremembred lords & knights that

were taken from the king at Northampton and Stonie Stratford. Which

thing was doone in the presence, and by the order of sir Richard

Ratcliffe knight, whose seruice the protector speciallie vsed in that

councell, and in the execution of such lawlesse enterprises, as a man

that had béene long secret with him, hauing experience of the world,

and a shrewd wit, short & rude in spéech, rough and boisterous of

behauiour, bold in mischiefe, as far from pitie as from all feare of

God.

[Sidenote: The lord Riuers & other beheaded.]

This knight bringing them out of the prison to the scaffold, and

shewing to the people about that they were traitors (not suffering them

to declare & speake their innocencie, least their words might haue

inclined men to pitie them, and to hate the protector and his part)

caused them hastilie, without iudgement, processe, or maner of order

to be beheaded, and without other earthlie gilt, but onelie that they

were good men, too true to the king, and too nigh to the quéene. Now

when the lord chamberleine & these other lords and knights were thus

beheaded, and rid out of the waie: then thought the protector, that

when men mused what the matter meant, while the lords of the realme

were about him out of their owne strengths, while no man wist what to

thinke, nor whom to trust, yer euer they should haue space to dispute

and digest the matter and make parties; it were best hastilie to pursue

his purpose, and put himselfe in possession of the crowne, yer men

could haue time to deuise anie waie to resist.

[Sidenote: Edmund Shaw maior of London.]

But now was all the studie by what meanes this matter, being of it

selfe so heinous, might be first broken to the people, in such wise

that it might be well taken. To this councell they tooke diuerse, such

as they thought méetlie to be trusted, likelie to be induced to that

part, and able to stand them in stéed either by power or policie.

Among whome they made of councell Edmund Shaw knight then maior of

London, which vpon trust of his owne aduancement, whereof he was

of a proud heart highlie desirous, should frame the citie to their

appetite. Of spirituall men they tooke such as had wit, and were in

authentic among the people for opinion of their learning, and had no

scrupulous conscience. Among these had they Iohn Shaw clearke brother

to the maior, and frier Penker, prouinciall of the Augustine friers

both doctors of diuinitie, both great preachers, both of more learning

than vertue, of more fame than learning. For they were before greatlie

estéemed among the people: but after that neuer.

[Sidenote: Doct. Shaw.]

[Sidenote: Frier Penker.]

Of these two the one had a sermon in praise of the protector before the

coronation, the other after, both so full of tedious flatterie, that no

mans eares could abide them. Penker in his sermon so lost his voice,

that he was fame to leaue off, and come downe in the midst. Doctor

Shaw by his sermon lost his honestie, & soone after his life, for

verie shame of the world, into which he durst neuer after come abroad.

But the frier forced for no shame, and so it harmed him the lesse.

Howbeit some doubt, and manie thinke, that Penker was not of counsell

in the matter before the coronation, but after the common maner fell to

flatterie after: namelie sith his sermon was not incontinentlie vpon

it, but at saint Marie hospitall at the Easter after.

[Sidenote: The chiefest deuise to depose the prince.]

But certeine it is, that doctor Shaw was of counsell in the beginning,

so farre foorth that they determined that he should first breake

the matter in a sermon at Paules crosse, in which he should (by the

authoritie of his preaching) incline the people to the protectors

ghostlie purpose. But now was all the labor and studie in the deuise

of some conuenient pretext, for which the people should be content to

depose the prince, and accept the protector for king. In which diuerse

things they deuised. But the chéefe thing & the weightiest of all that

inuention rested in this, that they should alledge bastardie, either in

king Edward himselfe, or in his children, or both. So that he should

séeme disabled to inherit the crowne, by the duke of Yorke, and the

prince by him.

To laie bastardie in king Edward, sounded openlie to the rebuke of the

protectors owne mother, which was mother to them both; for in that

point could be no other color, but to pretend that his owne mother was

an adultresse, which notwithstanding, to further this purpose he letted

not. But neuerthelesse he would that point should be lesse and more

fauourablie handled: not euen fullie plaine and directlie, but that

the matter should be touched aslope craftilie, as though men spared in

that point to speake all the truth, for feare of his displeasure. But

the other point concerning the bastardie that they deuised to surmize

in king Edwards children, that would he should be openlie declared

and inforced to the vttermost. The colour and pretext whereof cannot

be well perceiued, but if we first repeat you some things long before

doone about king Edwards mariage.

[Sidenote: Sée before _pag. 283_.]

[Sidenote: Dame Elizabeth Greie.]

After that king Edward the fourth had deposed king Henrie the sixt,

and was in peaceable possession of the realme, determining himselfe

to marie (as it was méet both for him selfe & the realme) he sent

ouer in ambassage the erle of Warwike, with other noble men in his

companie to Spaine, to treat & conclude a mariage betwéene K. Edward

& the kings daughter of Spaine. In which thing the erle of Warwike

found the parties so toward & willing, that he speedily (according to

his instructions without any difficultie) brought the matter to very

good c[=o]clusion. Now hapned it, that in the meane season there came

to make a sute by petition to the king dame Elizabeth Greie, which was

after his quéene, at that time a widow, borne of noble bloud, by hir

mother, duches of Bedford, yer she maried the lord Wooduile, hir father.

Howbeit, this dame Elizabeth hir selfe, being in seruice with quéene

Margaret, wife vnto king Henrie the sixt, was maried vnto one [Iohn]

Greie an esquier, whome king Henrie made knight vpon the field that he

had on [Barnet heath by saint Albons] against king Edward. But litle

while inioied he that knighthood: for he was at the same field slaine.

After which doone, and the earle of Warwike, being in his ambassage

about the afore remembred mariage, this poore ladie made humble sute

vnto the king, that she might be restored vnto such small lands as hir

late husband had giuen hir in iointure. Whome when the king beheld, and

heard hir speake as she was both faire and of a goodlie fauor, moderate

of stature, well made and verie wise: he not onelie pitied hir, but

also waxed inamoured of hir. And taking hir afterward secretlie aside,

began to enter in talking more familiarlie. Whose appetite when she

perceiued, she vertuouslie denied him.

[Sidenote: A wise answer of a chast and continent ladie.]

But that did she so wiselie, and with so good maner, and words so well

set, that she rather kindled his desire than quenched it. And finallie,

after manie a méeting, much wooing, and many great promises, she well

espieng the kings affection toward hir so greatlie increased, that

she durst somewhat the more boldlie saie hir mind, as to him whose

hart she perceiued more feruentlie set, than to fall off for a word.

And in conclusion, she shewed him plaine, that as she wist hir selfe

too simple to be his wife, so thought she hir selfe too good to be

his concubine. The king much maruelling at hir constancie (as he that

had not béen woont elsewhere to be so stiffelie said naie) so much

estéemed hir continencie and chastitie, that he set hir vertue in the

stéed of possession and riches: and thus taking counsell of his desire,

determined in all possible hast to marie hir.

[Sidenote: The kings mother.]

Now after he was thus appointed, and had betwéene them twaine insured

hir: then asked he counsell of his other fréends, and that in such

maner, as they might then perceiue it booted not greatlie to say naie.

Notwithstanding the duches of Yorke his mother was so sore mooued

therewith, that she dissuaded the mariage as much as she possible

might; alledging that it was his honour, profit and suertie also, to

marie in a noble progenie out of his realme, wherevpon depended great

strength to his estate, by the affinitie and great possibilitie of

increase of his possession. And that he could not well otherwise doo,

séeing that the earle of Warwike had so farre mooued alreadie: which

were not likelie to take it well, if all his voiage were in such wise

frustrate, and his appointment deluded. And she said also, that it was

not princelie to marie his owne subiect, no great occasion leading

therevnto, no possessions, or other commodities depending therevpon;

but onlie as it were a rich man that would marie his maid, onelie for a

little wanton dotage vpon hir person.

In which mariage manie mo commend the maidens fortune, than the

maisters wisedome. And yet therein (she said) was more honestie than

honour in this mariage. For somuch as there is betwéene no merchant

and his owne maid so great difference, as betwéene the king and this

widow. In whose person, albeit there was nothing to be misliked; yet

was there (she said) nothing so excellent, but that it might be found

in diuerse other that were more méetlie (quoth she) for your estate,

and maidens also; whereas the onelie widowhead of Elizabeth Greie,

though she were in all other things conuenient for you, shuld yet

suffice (as me séemeth) to refraine you from hir mariage, sith it is

an vnfitting thing, and a verie blemish and high disparagement to the

sacred maiestie of a prince, that ought as nigh to approch priesthood

in cleannesse as he dooth in dignitie, to be defiled with bigamie in

his first mariage.

[Sidenote: The kings answer to his mother.]

The king, when his mother had said, made hir answer, part in earnest,

part in plaie merilie, as he that wist himselfe out of hir rule. And

albeit he would gladlie that she should take it well, yet was at

a point in his owne mind, tooke she it well or otherwise. Howbeit

somewhat to satisfie hir, he said, that albeit mariage (being a

spirituall thing) ought rather to be made for the respect of God,

where his grace inclineth the parties to loue togither, as he trusted

it was in his, than for the regard of anie temporall aduantage: yet

neuerthelesse, him séemed that this mariage, euen worldlie considered,

was not vnprofitable. For he reckoned the amitie of no earthlie

nation so necessarie for him, as the fréendship of his owne, which he

thought likely to beare him so much the more hartie fauour, in that he

disdained not to marie with one of his owne land.

And yet if outward aliance were thought so requisite, he would find the

meanes to enter thereinto, much better by other of his kin, where all

the parties could be contented, than to marie himselfe whome he should

happilie neuer loue; and for the possibilitie of more possessions,

leese the fruit and pleasure of this that he had alreadie. Tor small

pleasure taketh a man of all that euer he hath beside, if he be wiued

against his appetite. And I doubt not (quoth he) but there be (as ye

say) other, that be in euerie point comparable with hir. And therefore

I let not them that like them to wed them. No more is it reason, that

it mislike anie man, that I marrie where it liketh me. And I am sure

that my cousine of Warwike neither loueth me so little, to grudge at

that I loue; nor is so vnreasonable, to looke that I should in choise

of a wife, rather be ruled by his eie, than by mine owne: as though I

were a ward that were bound to marie by the appointment of a gardian.

[Sidenote: Libertie preferred before a kingdome.]

I would not be a king with that condition, to forbeare mine owne

libertie in choise of mine owne mariage. As for possibilitie of more

inheritance by new affinitie in strange lands, is oft the occasion of

more trouble than profit. And we haue alreadie title by that meanes

vnto so much, as sufficeth to get and kéepe well in one mans daies.

That she is a widow, and hath alreadie children; by Gods blessed ladie,

I am a bacheler, and haue some too, and so ech of vs hath a proofe that

neither of vs is like to be barren. And therefore (madame) I praie

you be content, I trust in God she shall bring foorth a yoong prince

that shall please you. And as for the bigamie, let the bishop hardlie

laie it in my waie when I come to take orders. For I vnderstand it is

forbidden a preest, but I neuer wist it yet, that it was forbidden

a prince. [This spake he as alluding to the libertie of princes,

whose lust standeth oftentimes for law, and their opinion for reason,

according to the saieng of the poet;

[Sidenote: _Claudi._]

----tunc omnia iure tenebis

Cùm poteris rex esse.]

[Sidenote: Elizabeth Lucie.]

The duches with these words nothing appeased, and séeing the king

so set thereon, that she could not pull him backe. So highlie she

disdained it, that vnder pretext of hir dutie to Godward, she deuised

to disturbe this mariage, and rather to helpe that he should marie one

dame Elizabeth Lucie, whome the king had also not long before gotten

with child. Wherefore the kings mother openlie obiected against his

mariage, as it were in discharge of hir conscience, that the king was

sure to dame Elizabeth Lucie and hir husband before God. By reason of

which words, such obstacle was made in the matter, that either the

bishops durst not, or the king would not proceed to the solemnization

of this wedding, till these same were clearlie purged, and the truth

well and openlie testified. Wherevpon dame Elizabeth Lucie was then

sent for.

[Sidenote: The kings mariage.]

And albeit that she was by the kings mother and manie other put in

good comfort, to affirme that she was ensured vnto the king: yet when

she was solemnlie sworne to saie the truth, she confessed that they

were neuer ensured. Howbeit she said his grace spake so louing words

vnto hir, that she verelie hoped he would haue married hir. And that

if it had not béene for such kind words, she would neuer haue shewed

such kindnesse to him, to let him so kindlie get hir with child. This

examination solemnlie taken, when it was cléerelie perceiued, that

there was none impediment: the king with great feast and honourable

solemnitie married dame Elizabeth Greie, and hir crowned quéene that

was his enimies wife, and manie times had praied full hartilie for his

losse, in which God loued hir better than to grant hir hir boune.

[Sidenote: The king fled.]

[Sidenote: The prince borne.]

[Sidenote: King Henrie the sixt set vp.]

[Sidenote: Of the earle of Warwike.]

But when the earle of Warwike vnderstood of this marriage, he tooke it

so highlie that his ambassage was deluded, that for verie anger and

disdaine he (at his returning) assembled a great puissance against the

king, and came so fast vpon him yer he could be able to resist, that

he was faine to void the realme, and flee into Holland for succor,

where he remained for the space of two yeares, leauing his new wife

at Westminster in sanctuarie, where she was deliuered of Edward the

prince, of whome we before haue spoken. In which meane time the earle

of Warwike tooke out of prison, and set vp againe king Henrie the

sixt, who was before by king Edward deposed, and that much what by the

power of the erle of Warwike, which was a wise man, and a couragious

warriour, and of such strength, what for his lands, his aliance, and

fauor with all people, that he made kings and put downe kings almost at

his pleasure, and not impossible to haue atteined it himselfe, if he

had not reckoned it a greater thing to make a king than to be a king.

[Sidenote: The earle of Warwike slaine.]

But nothing lasteth alwaie: far in conclusion, king Edward returned,

and with much lesse number than he had at Barnet on the Easter daie

field, slue the earle of Warwike, with manie other great estates

of that partie, & so stablie atteined the crowne againe, that he

peaceablie enioied it vntill his dieng daie: and in such plight left

it, that it could not be lost but by the discord of his verie friends,

or falsehood of his feigned fréends. I haue rehearsed this businesse

about this marriage somewhat the more at length, bicause it might

thereby the better appeare, vpon how slipperie a ground the protector

builded his colour, by which he pretended king Edwards children to

be bastards. But that inuention, simple as it was, it liked them to

whome it sufficed to haue somewhat to saie, while they were sure to be

compelled to no larger proofe than themselues list to make.

[Sidenote: Doc. Shaw's sermon.]

Now then (as I began to shew you) it was by the protector and his

councell concluded, that this doctor Shaw should in a sermon at Pauls

crosse signifie to the people, that neither king Edward himselfe, nor

the duke of Clarence, were lawfullie begotten, nor were not the verie

children of the duke of Yorke, but gotten vnlawfullie by other persons,

in adulterie, of the duches their mother. And that also dame Elizabeth

Lucie was verilie the wife of king Edward, and so the prince and all

his children bastards, that were begotten vpon the quéene. According to

this deuise doctor Shaw the sundaie after, at Paules crosse in a great

audience (as alwaie assembled great number to his preaching) he tooke

for his theame; Spuria vitilamina non agent radices altas, that is to

saie; Bastard slippes shall neuer take déepe root.

Therevpon when he had shewed the great grace that God giueth, and

secretlie insundeth in right generation after the lawes of matrimonie,

then declared he, that commonlie those children lacked that grace, and

for the punishment of their parents were (for the more part) vnhappie,

which were gotten in base, and speciallie in adulterie. Of which,

though some, by the ignorance of the world and the truth hid from

knowledge, inherited for the season other mens lands, yet God alwaie so

prouideth, that it continueth not in their bloud long: but the truth

comming to light, the rightfull inheritors be restored, and the bastard

slip pulled vp yer it can be rooted déepe. And so he did laie for the

proofe and confirmation of this sentence certeine insamples taken out

of the old testament, and other ancient histories.

[Sidenote: This preacher was taught his lesson yer he came into the

pulpit.]

[Sidenote: K. Edward slandered in a sermon.]

Then began he to descend into the praise of the lord Richard late duke

of Yorke, calling him father to the lord protector, and declared the

title of his heires vnto the crowne, to whome it was (after the death

of king Henrie the sixt) intailed by authoritie of parlement. Then

shewed he that his verie right heire of his bodie lawfullie begotten

was onelie the lord protector. For he declared then, that king Edward

was neuer lawfullie married vnto the quéene, but was before God husband

vnto dame Elizabeth Lucie, and so his children bastards. And besides

that, neither king Edward himselfe, nor the duke of Clarence, among

those that were secret in the houshold, were reckoned verie suerlie for

the children of the noble duke, as those that by their fauours more

resembled other knowne men than him. From whose vertuous conditions he

said also that the late king Edward was far off.

[Sidenote: A maruellous deuise to mooue the assemblie.]

But the lord protector he said, the verie noble prince, the speciall

paterne of knightlie prowesse, as well in all princelie behauior, as

in the lineaments and fauour of his visage, represented the verie face

of the noble duke his father. This is, quoth he, the fathers owne

figure, this is his owne countenance, the verie print of his visage,

the sure vndoubted image, the plaine expresse likenesse of that noble

duke. Now was it before deuised, that in the speaking of these words,

the protector should haue comen in among the people to the sermon ward,

to the end that those words méeting with his presence, might haue béen

taken among the hearers, as though the Holie-ghost had put them in the

preachers mouth, & should haue mooued the people euen there to crie;

King Richard, king Richard: that it might haue béene after said, that

he was speciallie chosen by God, and in maner by miracle. But this

deuise quailed, either by the protectors negligence, or the preachers

ouermuch diligence.

[Sidenote: K. Richard commended by the preacher.]

For while the protector found by the waie tarieng least he should

preuent those words, and the doctor fearing that he should come yer

his sermon could come to these words, hasted his matter thereto, he

was come to them and past them, and entered into other matters yer the

protector came. Whome when he beheld comming, he suddenlie left the

matter with which he was in hand, and without anie deduction therevnto,

out of all order, and out of all frame, began to repeat those words

againe: "This is the verie noble prince, the speciall patrone of

knightlie prowesse, which as well in all princelie behauior, as in

the lineaments & fauor of his visage, representeth the verie face of

the noble duke of Yorke his father: this is the fathers owne figure,

this is his owne countenance, the verie print of his visage, the sure

vndoubted image, the plaine expresse likenesse of the noble duke, whose

remembrance can neuer die while he liueth."

[Sidenote: Note the course of Gods iudgement.]

While these words were in speaking, the protector accompanied with the

duke of Buckingham, went through the people into the place where the

doctors commonlie stand in the vpper storie, where he stood to hearken

the sermon. But the people were so farre fr[=o] crieng; K. Richard,

that they stood as they had béene turned into stones, for woonder of

this shamefull sermon. After which once ended, the preacher gat him

home, and neuer after durst looke out for shame, but kept him out of

sight like an owle. And when he once asked one that had béene his

old friend what the people talked of him, all were it that his owne

conscience well shewed him that they talked no good; yet when the

tother answered him, that there was in euerie mans mouth spoken of him

much shame, it so strake him to the heart, that within few daies after

he withered and consumed awaie [for verie thought and inward pine,

procured by irrecouerable cares, whose nature is noted by obseruation

of their effects:

[Sidenote: Ouid. iib. 3. met.]

Holinshed's Chronicles, vol. 3 of 6, slice 5 of 9: England, 1483, Edward V · 第 4 / 7 题