Chapter III: Part 3

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.]

Attenuant vigiles corpus miserabile curæ.]

Then on the tuesdaie following this sermon, there came to the Guildhall in London the duke of Buckingham, accompanied with diuerse lords and knights mo than happilie knew the message that they brought. And there in the east end of the hall, where the maior kéepeth the Hustings, the maior and all the aldermen being assembled about him, all the commons of the citie gathered before them. After silence commanded vpon great paine in the protectors name: the duke stood vp, and (as he was neither vnlearned, and of nature maruellouslie well spoken) he said vnto the people with a cleare and lowd voice in this maner of wise.

The duke of Buckingham's oration to the assemblie of the maior, aldermen, and commoners.

[Sidenote: A notable persuasion.]

Friends, for the zeale and heartie fauour that we beare you, we be comen to breake vnto you of a maner right great and weightie, and no lesse weightie than pleasing to God, and profitable to all the realme: nor to no part of the realme more profitable, than to you the citizens of this noble citie. For whie, that thing that we wote well ye haue long time lacked, and sore longed for, that yée would haue giuen great good for, that yée would haue gone farre to fetch; that thing we be come hither to bring you without your labour, paine, cost, aduenture or ieopardie. What thing is that? Certes the suertie of your owne bodies, the quiet of your wiues and your daughters, the safegard of your goods: of all which things in times past ye stood euermore in doubt. For who was there of you all, that would reckon himselfe lord of his own goods among so manie grens & traps as was set therefore, among so much pilling and polling, among so manie taxes and tallages, of which there was neuer end, & oftentimes no néed? Or if anie were, it rather grew of riot, and vnreasonable wast, that anie necessarie or honourable charge.

[Sidenote: Burdet.]

So that there was dailie pilled fro good men and honest, great substance of goods, to be lashed out among vnthrifts; so far forth, that fifteenes sufficed not, nor anie vsual names of knowne taxes: but vnder an easie name of beneuolence and good will, the commissioners so much of euerie man tooke as no man could with his good will haue giuen. As though that name of beneuolence had signified, that euerie man should paie, not what himselfe of his owne good will list to grant, but what the king of his good will list to take. Which neuer asked little, but euerie thing was hawsed aboue the measure, amercements turned into fines, fines into ransoms, small trespasses into misprison, misprison into treason. Whereof (I thinke) no man looketh that we should remember you of examples by name, as though Burdet were forgotten, that was for a word spoken in hast cruellie beheaded, by the misconstruing of the laws of this realme, for the princes pleasure.

[Sidenote: Markam.]

[Sidenote: Cooke.]

With no lesse honour to Markam then chéefe iustice, that left [the benefit & dignitie] of his office, rather than he would assent to the dishonestie of those, that either for feare or flatterie gaue that iudgment. What Cooke, your owne worshipful neighbour, alderman and maior of this noble citie, who is of you so either negligent that he knoweth not, or so forgetful that he remembreth not, or so hard hearted that he pittieth not that worshipful mans losse? What speake we of losse? His vtter spoile and vndeserued destruction, onelie for that it hapned those to fauour him whome the prince fauoured not. We néed not (I suppose) to rehearse of these anie mo by name, sith there be (I doubt not) manie héere present, that either in themselues or in their nigh friends haue knowne, as well their goods as their persons greatlie indangered, either by feigned quarrels, or small matters aggreeued with heinous names. And also there was no crime so great, of which there could lacke a pretext.

[Sidenote: Open warre not so ill as ciuill.]

For sith the king, preuenting the time of this inheritance, atteined the crowne by battell: it sufficed in a rich man for a pretext of treason, to haue béene of kinred or aliance, néere familiaritie, or legier acquaintance with any of those that were at anie time the kings enimies, which was at one time and other more than halfe the relme. Thus were neither your goods in suertie, and yet they brought your bodies in ieopardie, beside the common aduenture of open warre, which albeit that it is euer the will and occasion of much mischéefe, yet is it neuer so mischeeuous, as where any people fall at distance among themselues; nor in none earthlie nation so deadlie and so pestilent, as when it happeneth among vs; and among vs neuer so long continued dissention, nor so manie batels in that season, nor so cruell and so deadlie fought, as was in that kings daies that dead is, God forgiue it his soule.

[Sidenote: Ciuill warre the occasion of manie great inconueniencies.]

In whose time, and by whose occasion, what about the getting of the garland, kéeping it, leesing and winning againe, it hath cost more English bloud, than hath twise the winning of France. In which inward war among our selues, hath béene so great effusion of the ancient noble bloud of this realme, that scarselie the halfe remaineth, to the great infeebling of this noble land, beside manie a good towne ransacked and spoiled by them, that haue béene going to the field or comming from thence. And peace long after not much surer than war. So that no time was therein, which rich men for their monie, and great men for their lands, or some other for some feare, or some displeasure were not out of perill. For whom trusted he that mistrusted his owne brother? Whome spared he that killed his owne brother? Or who could perfectlie loue him, if his owne brother could not?

[Sidenote: Shores wife more sued vnto than all the lords in England.]

What maner of folke he most fauoured we shall for his honour spare to speake of. Howbeit this wote you well all, that who so was best, bare alwaie least rule; & more sute was in his daies to Shores wife a vile and an abbominable strumpet, than to all the lords in England: except vnto those that made hir their proctor. Which simple woman was well named & honest, till the king for his wanton lust and sinfull affection bereft hir from hir husband, a right honest substantiall yoong man among you. And in that point, which in good faith I am sorie to speake of, sauing that it is in vaine to kéepe in counsell that thing that all men know, the kings greedie appetite was insatiable, and euerie where ouer all the realme intollerable.

[Sidenote: He directeth his spéech to the communaltie of the citie.]

For no woman was there anie where, yoong or old, rich or poore, whome he set his eie vpon, in whome he anie thing liked, either person or fauour, spéech, pase, or countenance, but without anie feare of God, or respect of his honour, murmur or grudge of the world, he would importunelie pursue his appetite, and haue hir, to the great destruction of manie a good woman, and great dolor to their husbands, and their other fréends; which being honest people of themselues, so much regard the cleannesse of their house, the chastitie of their wiues, and their children, that them were leauer to leese all that they had beside, than to haue such a villanie doone them. And all were it that with this and other importable dealing, the realme was in euerie part annoied: yet speciallie yée héere the citizens of this noble citie, as well for that amongest you is most plentie of all such things as minister matter to such iniuries as for that at you were néerest at hand, sith that néere héere abouts was commonlie his most abiding.

[Sidenote: London the kings especiall chamber.]

And yet be yée the people, whome he had as singular cause well and kindlie to intreat, as anie part of his realme; not onelie for that the prince (by this noble citie, as his speciall chamber, & the speciall well renowmed citie of this realme) much honourable fame receiueth among all other nations: but also for that yée (not without your great cost, & sundrie perils & ieopardies in all his warres) bare euen your speciall fauor to his part. Which your kind minds borne to the house of Yorke, sith he hath nothing worthilie acquited, there is of that house that now by Gods grace better shall: which thing to shew you is the whole summe and effect of this our present errand. It shall not (I wot well) néed that I rehearse you againe, that yée haue alreadie heard of him that can better tell it, and of whome I am sure yée will better beléeue it. And reason is that it so be.

[Sidenote: Doct. Shaw commended by the duke of Buckingh[=a].]

[Sidenote: A slanderous lie confirmed.]

I am not so proud, to looke therefore that yée should reckon my words of as great authoritie as the preachers of the word of God, namelie a man so cunning and so wise, that no man better woteth what he should saie, and thereto so good and vertuous, that he would saie the thing which he wist he should not saie, in the pulpit namelie, into the which no honest man commeth to lie. Which honorable preacher, yée well remember, substantiallie declared vnto you at Paules crosse, on sundaie last passed, the right & title that the most excellent prince Richard duke of Glocester, now protector of this realme, hath vnto the crowne and kingdome of the same. For as the worshipfull man groundlie made open vnto you, the children of king Edward the fourth were neuer lawfullie begotten, forsomuch as the king (leaning his verie wife dame Elizabeth Lucie) was neuer lawfullie maried vnto the quéene their mother, whose bloud, sauing that he set his voluptuous, pleasure before his honor, was full vnméetelie to be matched with his; and the mingling of whose blouds togither, hath béene the effusion of a great part of the noble bloud of this realme.

[Sidenote: The title of K. Richard to the crowne.]

Whereby it may well séeme the mariage not well made, of which there is so much mischéefe growne. For lacke of which lawfull coupling, & also of other things which the said worshipfull doctor rather signified than fullie explaned, & which things shall not be spoken for me, as the thing wherein euerie man forbereth to say that he knoweth in auoiding displeasure of my noble lord protector, bearing (as nature requireth) a filiall reuerence to the duchesse his mother. For these causes (I say) before remembred that is to wit, for lacke of other issue lawfullie of the late noble prince Richard duke of Yorke, to whose roiall bloud the crowne of England and of France is by the high authoritie of parlement intailed, the right and title of the same is by the iust course of inheritance (according to the c[=o]mon lawes of the land) deuolued & commen vnto the most excellent prince the lord protector, as to the verie lawfullie begotten sonne of the foreremembred noble duke of Yorke.

[Sidenote: The dignitie and office of a king full of care & studie.]

Which thing well considered, and the great knightlie prowesse pondered, with manifold vertues, which in his noble person singularlie abound; the nobles and commons also of this realme, and speciallie in the north part, not willing anie bastard bloud to haue the rule of the land, nor the abusions before in the same vsed anie longer to continue, haue condescended and fullie determined, to make humble petition to the most puissant prince the lord protector, that it maie like his grace (at our humble request) to take vpon him the guiding and gouernance of this realme, to the wealth and increase of the same, according to his verie right and iust title. Which thing I wote it well, he will be loth to take vpon him, as he whose wisdome well perceiueth the labor and studie both of mind and bodie, that come therewith, to whomsoeuer so will occupie the roome, as I dare say hée will, if he take it. Which roome I warne you well is no childs office. And that the great wise man well perceiued, when hée said: Væ regno cuius rex puer est: Wo is that realme that hath a child to their king.

Wherefore so much the more cause haue we to thanke God, that this noble personage, which is so rightlie intituled therevnto, is of so sad age, & thereto so great wisdome ioined with so great experience, which albeit hée will bée loth (as I haue said) to take it vpon him, yet shall he to our petition in that behalfe more gratiouslie incline, if ye the worshipfull citizens of this the chéefe citie of this realme, ioine with vs the nobles in our said request. Which for your owne weale (we doubt not) but ye will: and nathelesse I heartilie pray you so to doo, whereby you shall doo great profit to all this realme beside, in choosing them so good a king, and vnto your selues speciall commoditie, to whom his maiestie shall euer after beare so much the more tender fauor, in how much he shall perceiue you the more prone and beneuolentlie minded toward his election. Wherein déere friends what mind you haue, wee require you plainlie to shew vs.

* * * * *

When the duke had said, and looked that the people, whome he hoped that the maior had framed before should after this proposition made, haue cried; King Richard, king Richard: all was husht and mute, and not one word answered therevnto. Wherewith the duke was maruellouslie abashed, and taking the maior neerer to him, with other that were about him priuie to that matter, said vnto them softlie, What meaneth this, that the people be so still? Sir (quoth the maior) percase they perceiue you not well. That shall we mend (quoth he) if that will helpe. And by & by somewhat lowder he rehearsed to them the same matter againe in other order, and other words, so well and ornatlie, and nathelesse so euidentlie and plaine, with voice, gesture and countenance so comelie, and so conuenient, that euerie man much maruelled that heard him, and thought that they neuer had in their liues heard so euill a tale so well told [insomuch that he séemed as cunning an orator, as he, of whome the poet spake to his high praise & c[=o]mendation, saieng:

Quælibet eloquio causa fit apta suo.]

[Sidenote: The election of K. Richard hardlie to be preferred.]

[Sidenote: Fitz William recorder.]

But were it for woonder or feare, or that each looked that other should speake first: not one word was there answered of all the people that stood before, but all was as still as the midnight, not somuch as rowning amongest them, by which they might séeme to commune what was best to do. When the maior saw this, he with other partners of that councell drew about the duke, and said that the people had not béene accustomed there to be spoken vnto, but by the recorder, which is the mouth of the citie, and happilie to him they will answer. With that the recorder, called Fitz William, a sad man, & an honest, which was so new come into that office, that he neuer had spoken to the people before, and loth was with that matter to begin, notwithstanding therevnto commanded by the maior, made rehearsall to the commons of that the duke had twise rehearsed to them himselfe.

But the recorder so tempered his tale, that he shewed euerie thing as the dukes words, and no part his owne. But all this noting no change made in the people, which alwaie after one stood as they had béene men amazed. Wherevpon the duke rowned vnto the maior and said; This is a maruellous obstinate silence: and therewith he turned vnto the people againe with these words; Déere friends, we come to mooue you to that thing, which peraduenture we not so greatlie néeded but that the lords of this realme, and the commons of other parties might haue sufficed, sauing that we such loue beare you, and so much set by you, that we would not gladlie doo without you, that thing in which to be partners is your weale and honor, which (as it séemeth) either you sée not, or weie not. Wherefore we require you giue vs answer one way or other, whether you be minded, as all the nobles of the realme be, to haue this noble prince, now protector, to be your king or not.

[Sidenote: K. Richards election preferred by voices of confederacie.]

At these words the people began to whisper among themselues secretly, that the voice was neither lowd nor distinct, but as it were the sound of a swarme of bées, till at the last in the nether end of the hall, an ambushment of the dukes seruants and Nashfields, and other belonging to the protector, with, some prentisses and lads that thrust into the hall amongst the prease, began suddenlie at mens backs to crie out, as lowd as their throtes would giue; King Richard, king Richard: and threw vp their caps in token of ioy. And they that stood before, cast backe their heads maruelling therof, but nothing they said. Now when the duke and the maior saw this maner, they wiselie turned it to their purpose, and said it was a goodlie crie, & a ioifull, to heare euerie man with one voice, no man saieng naie.

Wherefore friends (quoth the duke) sith we perceiue it is all your whole mind to haue this noble man for your king (whereof we shall make his grace so effectuall report, that we doubt not but it shall redound vnto your great weale and commoditie) we require ye, that ye to morrow go with vs, and we with you vnto his noble grace, to make our humble request vnto him in maner before remembred. And therewith the lords came downe, and the companie dissolued and departed, the more part all sad: some with glad semblance that were not verie merrie, and some of those that came thither with the duke not able to dissemble their sorrow, were faine at his backe to turne their face to the wall while the dolor of their hearts burst out of their eies.

[Sidenote: The maiors comming to Bainards castell vnto the lord protector.]

Then on the morrow after, the maior with all the aldermen, and chiefe commoners of the citie, in their best maner apparelled, assembling themselues togither, resorted vnto Bainards castell, where the protector laie. To which place repaired also (according to their appointment) the duke of Buckingham, and diuerse noble men with him, beside manie knights and other gentlemen. And therevpon the duke sent word vnto the lord protector, of the being there of a great and honourable companie, to mooue a great matter vnto his grace. Wherevpon the protector made difficultie to come out vnto them, but if he first knew some part of their errand, as though he doubted and partlie mistrusted the comming of such a number vnto him so suddenlie, without anie warning or knowledge, whether they came for good or harme.

Then the duke, when he had shewed this to the maior and other, that they might thereby sée how little the protector looked for this matter, they sent vnto him by the messenger such louing message againe, and therewith so humblie besought him, to vouchsafe that they might resort to his presence to propose their intent, of which they would vnto none other person anie part disclose; that at the last he came foorth of his chamber, and yet not downe vnto them, but stood aboue in a gallerie ouer them, where they might sée him, and speake to him, as though he would not yet come too néere them till he wist what they ment. And therevpon the duke of Buckingham first made humble petition vnto him on the behalfe of them all, that his grace would pardon them, and licence them to propose vnto his grace the intent of their comming, without his displeasure, without which pardon obteined, they durst not be bold to mooue him of that matter.