THE HISTORY OF EDWARD THE FOURTH, KING OF ENGLAND.  
BY WM. HABINGTON Esquire.  
LONDON, Printed by Tho. Cotes, for William Cook, and are to be sold at his shop, near Furnivals-inn Gate in Holborn. 1640.   

TO THE KING'S MOST SACRED MAJESTY.  
Sir,  
AN Humbler Dedication, would seem to lessen the memory of that great Prince, whose History I here lay down at your feet. Your Majesty is heir to those Crowns, his happy courage regained from the long and violent possession, of a most Potent Family: What can then by any Title appertain to him, but must be injustice to offer to another? His life presents your eye with rugged times, yet smoothed by a prevailing Fortune, and a just cause. Faction begot many tempests: but Sovereignty found a happy calm, in the destruction (since no gentler way had authority) of mighty opposers.  
When we, your subjects, look back upon that age, how ought we to congratulate the present? Wherein, free even from the noise of war, we have hitherto by the excellent Wisdom of your Majesty's government, lived safe and envied. The Almighty grant all your people knowledge of their own felicity, and their minds so disposed, that their blessings may feel no interruption. May your Majesty long continue in peace, the comfort and honour of these times, and the best example for the future. But if you shall be forced to draw your sword; may your enemies submit and tastpart of your mercy: if not; perish in your Victories. This is the prayer of your Majesty's  
Most Humble, most Loyal, and most Obedient Subject. WM. HABINGTON.   

THE HISTORY OF EDWARD THE FOURTH KING OF ENGLAND.  
RICHARD Duke of York overthrown by his own rashness, and the happy conduct of Queen Margaret, at the battle of Wakefield: left the justice of his Title, with a more prosperous fortune to his Son Edward. His head during life, busied with expectations of Sovereignty, after death, was mocked with a paper Crown, and fixed on a pole was set on the walls of York. For the Queen, to make his pretensions to the Kingdom the common scorn, forgot that compassion she owed human calamity; and in a fantastic cruelty exposed it thus to the barbarous mirth of the be holder's. With him died his younger son Edmond Earl of Rutland, then but twelve years old, coming too soon with his tutor to the school● of War; and learning at first the sharpest lesson from the Lord Clifford, who most inhumanely ●tab'd him prostrate at his feet, entreating but for life.  
In the very Haven, after a long and tempestuous voyage, thus perished the Duke of York; as if it had been in the fate of all the Richards, who were either in fact o● title Kings of England, to end by violent deaths. Richard the first and second preceding him: His son Richard the Tyrant, and Richard Duke of York his Nephew, following him in the like disaster, though several ways, and upon different quarrels.  
This great overthrow was suddenly rumoured through the whole Kingdom; and stretched up to the highest, to advance the reputation of the Queen's felicity. And soon it arrived at Gloucester, where Edward Earl of March lay with some small forces, expecting directions from his Father: By whose death perceiving himself in so foul weather to sit alone at the helm, he began more warily to steer his course: and considering how dangerous leisure is to increase the apprehension of misfortune, removed to Shrewesbury. By the way his army swelled up to three and twenty thousand fight men: which might appear strange if we weigh the necessary unexperience of his youth, being then but eighteen years of age, and the slender retinue that usually weights on infelicity. But now he was the head of the great body of that faction, which his Father at the expense of so long trouble, had purchased to his side; and them, the Queen's nature implacable to mercy, made resolute only to hope for safety by running into the common danger. Moreover all the men of power who inhabited between Gloucester and Shrowsbury, had dependency on him as heir to Mortimer; or held in chief of his mighty confederate, the Earl of Warwick.  
With this sudden and unexpected access of forces he entertained a confidence to be able to revenge his father's injury; and obtain that greatness as yet had been in vain attempted. He therefore looked about, where he might on the best advantage make experience of his fortune. Fortune appearing easy to be courted, as if enamoured on his youth; having been seldom observed but froward to age, in any design that depends chiefly upon courage.  
And occasion was immediately offered: certain discovery being made of a great power raised by the adverse party, with purpose to surprise him in the amazement of the late misfortune. The Army consisted of Welsh and Irish, according to the several Nations of the two Commanders, Jasper Earl of Pembroke, and Jaems Earl of Ormond: Pembroke half brother to Henry the sixth, as son to Queen Catherine, dowager to Henry the fif●, by Owen Teuther: and Ormond a most faithful servant to the house of Lanchaster, by whose gift in England he enjoyed the Earldom of Wiltshire.  
Against these two the Earl of March led back his Forces, and in a large plain near Mortimers cross on Candlemas day in the morning, gave them battle. Before the fight, the Sun (as by many Authors it is averd) appeared to the Earl in the resemblance of three Suns, and suddenly united into one: the truth of which I will not dispute, But certainly the pretention of such apparitions strangely prevails with the superstitious multitude, and hath been both the practice and advantage of the most expert Commanders. Yet how this omen could be expounded happy to his the sign, I understand not, unless we seek the interpretation from the event: for that indeed gave him the victory, and brought the glory of the two adverse Generals over to his side; so that the three Suns which with equal brightness appeared in the morning, before evening shined alone in him, For the two Earls and the whole Army were put to flight, with the slaughter of three thousand eight hundred on the place: many Welsh, and some English of name were taken prisoners, and afterward at Hereford beheaded: among whom an extraordinary fortune hath made Owen Teuther most the discourse of Posterity. For the good luck of an amiable person, wrought him into the affection and soon after advanced him to the marriage of Catherine daughter of France, and Widow to the most glorious Prince our Nation ever gained honour by. Yet all that this so envied splendour in a wife got him, was, to render his life obnoxious to imprisonment and faction, and his death more eminention a scaffold.  
This victory raised Edward's imaginations high; so that now he resolved to spend his fortune no longer on small enterprises, And lest the spirit of his Army should begin to languish, having no enemy near to find him in employment; he resolved to search for one about London: whether he had intelligence the Queen with her triumphant forces directed her march: moreover it concerned the policy of his affairs, to retain the possession of the capital City of the Kingdom, which continued firm to his devotion; and in which the Lords of his faction had custody of King Henry's person, left to their faith, when the Duke of York went his last fatal expedition.  
But in the way at Chipping Norton he met the Earl of Warwick, having lately fought and lost the field to the Queen at St. Alban. In which, beside the honour of the day and slaughter of two thousand of her enemies, she recovered the person of her husband. So that Warwick brought with him only a relation of his late overthrow; but with such a courage as disdained misfortune, and coveted nothing more than by the trial of a new day to persuade, or else to force back victory to his side.  
And oftentimes a small loss to an Army like opening a vein to a body, doth rather correct than any way impair the health: whereas too much prosperity, like the worst surfeit, suddenly becomes incurable. And so the two late obtained conquests wrought in the enemy, only insolency and disorder. For the Queen, wanton with success, vainly imagined a security from future competition: and either wanted power to restrain her soldiers, or licenced them to a free spoil: by which unruly violence she untied the affection of the Commons, who by their quiet and profit, measure the virtues of Princes And indeed they had title to their often complaints against the Northern troops; who soon as they had past Trent, as if there they had parted with all obedience to discipline, made use of all kinds of licence, that might serve their avarice or pleasure. And having by the way left no Towns, and in them no place, how Sacred soever unspoyled: after the flight of Warwick they designed for London, hoping to find it abundantly stored for prey, and utterly unable for defence.  
But the Citizens perceiving hostility in their approach, shut their gates and armed for resistance: And with such valour and good order behaved themselves, that the rude assailants were with loss repulsed, and the Queen persuaded to retire Northward, knowing the disorder of her men had begot her in the place where she than lay encamped, nothing but ill aspects and worse wishes: she therefore dislodged from St. Alban; and every day as she marched toward the North, new relations came of the greatness and resolution of the Earl of Marches power; who with the Earl of Warwick was on his journey to London.  
And doubtless the report of his approach confirmed the City in her courage to resist the late assault: which otherwise would without question have complied with the fortune of the more powerful. For presently after the departure of the Queen, the Earl of March made his triumphant entry, and was received with such acclamations; as an overjoyed people could express, who only hoped for safety by the fortune of his side. To increase the glory of this entry concurd, beside his title to the Crown, his late victory at Mortimer's Cross, the memory of a most glorious Father, and great authority of his Confederate Warwick; the beauty of Marches person, than which that age beheld not any more excellent. Neither is the outward form a small circumstance to induce the multitude or reverence; since as deformity in a Prince, hath oftentimes occasioned contempt even to deprivation: so on the contrary hath an amiable shape strengthened very weak pretensions, and in Antoninus Heliogabalus was sufficient title to an Empire, even in a military election.  
But the Earl of Warwick, (whose mind was still in labour, and felt continually most violent throws; till it had brought forth a settled sovereignty to the house of York) contented not himself with this general applause; knowing how the least change of Fortune would create new affections. He therefore resolved so to fasten the City to his designs, that any alteration in Edward should be ruin to them: and thereupon caused a general muster of all his forces in St. John's fields: where when he found an universal confluence of all men, answerable to his expectation; he cast his Army into a Ring; and with a loud voice, made to be read, the agreement which the last Parliament had accorded between Henry the sixth, and Richard Duke of York. By which Henry (out of compassion to a long possession) was permitted to enjoy the Crown during his natural life, the remainder to Richard and his heirs, in whom it was then apparently proved that the title to the Kingdom did remain. In which agreement was likewise manifested that Henry should make immediate forfeiture, when soever either he or any of his party should attempt to disa●all this Act. This read, and commented on with the best efficacy of Language, to express the foul breach on King Henry's side, in the destruction of Richard Duke of York: Question was proposed to them, whether they would longer continue in obedience to Henry's usurpation, who so impiously had violated his Faith? To which with an universal loud consent of voices they cried out, No, No. Then were they demanded, whether they would admit Edward; whose title to the Crown was so apparent, and whose sufferance had been so great in a perfidious violent entry, and a long injurious possession of the Kingdom by the family of Lancaster? To which with acclamations of assent was answered Yea, Yea.  
Thus by the Soldier and the people was Edward's title approved, and he admitted King. And happily did this ceremony then appear needful; in regard the same voices had vowed obedience to another. Otherwise whosoever shall allege that the suffrage of the multitude is necessary to confirm a Prince, destroys the right of succession, and in that the Monarchy, which so long and triumphantly hath ruled this Nation. And to understand the incertainety and injustice of all popular election, History instructs us that no Tyrant yet in England by what indirect practice soever he attained, or cruelty maintained the government; but entered in by a seeming approbation of the Commonwealth, and settled his state by confirmation of the People. For I know not by what universal distemper of humours it happens, that generally when the head of this Kingdom hath been sick, the whole body was diseased: so far, that usurpation hath been ligitimated, and tyranny applauded. Which misfortune must have necessarily been occasioned through Potency of the prevailing faction; and fear which possessed all honest minds: who though they neither wanted knowledge to see the injury, nor desire to redress it; yet private interest made them too cowardly to undertake the remedy.  
But in Edward's first in trance on the Kingdom the popular suffrage (which in the inauguration of Christian Princes is of ancient custom esteemed a convenient ceremony) met with a just title. For he by his Grandmother, daughter and heir of Mortuner son and heir to Philippe, only child of Lionel Duke of Clarence; third son to Edward the third King of England: of necessity must have (where women are admitted to inherit) better claim to the Crown than Henry the sixth: though in the fourth descent from Edward the third by John of Gaunt, being but his fourth son. For however Casuists may dispute, or civil Lawyers argue. The being removed one degree further, can no way prejudice succession: Whereby the younger brother may come to be preferred before the elder brother's son, if by chance the elder dye during his Father's life. An injustice so against reason and custom, that whosoever yet attempted it, was reputed to violate the laws of Nature.  
From St. John's fields, the principal of the army, and Common Council of the City, brought news of this Election to Edward Earl of March remaining at Baynard's Castle. Who soon as he understood the intention of their address (with such modesty as some Clergy man may have used at his consecration; who by simonaical practice hath obtained a Bishopric) refused that a while, which most ambitiously he covered. But soon the animation of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Warwick, the Bishops of London and Exeter, and divers others of eminence prevailed, and he at their request took on him the Royalty.  
That night he rested, the next morning with as much ceremony and state, as the shortness and unquietness of the time could licence, in solemn procession he went to Paul's; whence after Te Deum sung, and oblation made, he rod to Westminster: there seated in the most perspicuous place of the great Hall, with the Sceptre of St. Edward the Confessor in his hand, himself made declaration of his double title to the Crown First, by descent, as heir to the third son of Edward the third; the Line of whose eldest son Edward the black Prince extinguished in the deposition and parricide of Richard the second procured by Henry of Bullingbrooke, first King of the house of Lancaster, Edward the thirds second son dying without issue. Secondly, by authority of Parliament, which upon examination of the Duke of York's title, conferred the possession of the Kingdom immediately on him or his heirs, when Henry the sixth should make forfeiture of it, by death, resignation, or breach of that Accord sworn there so solemnly by them. And that this accord was broken, the slaughter of the Duke oppressed with unequal numbers on King Henry's party at the battle of Wakefield, did sadly manifest. Nevertheless he protested himself ready to forgo the justice of his claim, ratherthan to enter upon it without their free vote.  
At which unanimously the Assembly cried King Edward, King Edward: joyful that their voices might confirm him King, who had deigned them so humble a compliment, as to profess that he would not receive the title without their suffrage. The formality of this second Election thus past, he went in Procession to the Abbey: whence after much solemnity and homage of all the Nobility there present; he returned by water to the Bishop of London's Palace, and was immediately proclaimed King, throughout the City by the name of Edward the Fourth.  
The first fortnight of his Reign was died, I will not say stained, with the blood of Walter Walker a Grocer, who keeping shop at the sign of the Crown in Cheapside, said he would make his son heir to the Crown: a bold jest broke in an evil time: yet do I not side with them in opinion, who tax the King of severity in this execution; unless I could clear this man from being particularly factious for the house of Lancaster; or know that these words were uttered in innocent mirth, without any scorn to King Edward's Title. And however perhaps the extraordinary punishment of such saucy language, was not then unnecessary to beget authority, and make men cautious to dispute the descent of Princes, when the question was so nice, and arguments not improbable on either side.  
But here in her very first courtesy, Fortune raised King Edward higher than the endeavours of a long ambition had done his Father. For now was he consecrated King, in the Imperial City of this Realm, adorned with every circumstance of Sovereignty: and all his enterpises hitherto so flattered with success, that he could promise nothing but prosperity to his hopes. Yet was the ground whereon he built uncertain; and his state, brought into comparison with his Competitor, frail and obnoxious to ruin.  
For Henry had equal dignity with the advantage of a long Reign: an uninterrupted descent in Majesty for threescore years; a sovereignty acknowledged abroad by all Christian Princes, and obeyed at home by all Engilshmen without dispute: a title according to the Law Salic indubitable; and which had been confirmed at the first entry of his Grandfather Henry the fourth into the Kingdom, not only by resignation of Richard the second; by general acknowledgement of all the Nobility, and by authority of Parliament: but even by approbation, nay particular negotiation of Edmond Duke of York, Edward Duke of Aumerle; Richard Earl of Cambridge, Grandfather, Great Uncle, and Great Grandfather to the late anointed King, Edward the Fourth. Only a feeble judgement, and a long evil fortune rendered Henry the sixth inferior: to counterpoise which Queen Margaret and the Lords of her side were daring and vigilant, omitting on stratagem or endeavour that might add to the honour, or safety of their designs.  
Whereupon sly continued still in the North, and obliging that people every day more to her devotion, laboured to prepare such an army, as might upon the worst of fortune, be able enough for defence. And soon she found how much her own and the authority of the great Lords of her side prevailed: having raised threescore thousand fight men, and they all resolved with expense of their blood to buy back that Majesty, which the house of Lancaster by evil fate had lost. An army if armed and ordered well, able to oppose the mightiest enemy, or undertake the boldest enterprise. On sight of which the Queen entertained a confidence easily to scatter the Forces of the new Mushroom King, who in a night seemed to have sprung up to Majesty. Especially when she understood how with unequal power he marched Northward, A clime not unlikely to prove as distastrous to him, as to his Father.  
For King Edward, soon as the voice of the people had saluted him Prince, resolved with hazard of his new gained Sovereignty, to extirpate his great opposer. For while the side of Lancaster was supported with the devotion of so large a portion of the Kingdom, as yet adhered to Henry; he could be King, but at the courtesy of his Faction: and the body of the Land must of necessity grow monstrous, being charged with two heads, each of which looked divers ways. He therefore while his men had yet the memory of their late good fortune; fresh in their courage, marched toward the Queen, and chose rather, as worthier his spirit, to provoke than expect an enemy.  
Of his arrival at Pomfret Castle when it was understood, and that part of his army led by the Lord Fitzwalter had possessed itself of Ferribrig, a passage over the River Air of great import: All they of Lancaster began carefully to look to their affairs. King Henry, the Queen, and Prince (who were by their several weaknesses unfit for action) retired to York, there to attend the event of businesses. The Army being committed to the charge of the Duke of Somerset, the Earl of Northumberland, and the Lord Clifford.  
Among these it was resolved that Ferribrig, in regard of the consequence of the place, was at any hazard to be recovered; and the enterprise left to the undertaking of Clifford: who early the next morning, lest delay might betray his design to the enemy, with a competent number made thither: and with such diligence and secrecy he Marched, that before there was the least suspicion of an assault, the uncircumspect guard was entered upon and defeated. With which tumult the Lord Fitzwalter, and the Bastard of Salisbury; suspecting a mutiny among their own Soldiers, role hastily from their beds, and coming down encountered a remorseless enemy, who denied all quarter, and on the place slew them.  
The loss of this so commodious passage & slaughter of such eminent persons came first to the ear of the Earl of Warwick: who somewhat too much transported with the evil fate of their first attempt posted in all haste to King Edward: in whose presence he killed his horse, and said. Sir God have mercy on their souls, who for love of you in the beginning of your enterprise, have lost their lives; yet let him fly who will fly: by this cross (kissing the hilts of his sword) I will stand by him, who will stand by me, fall back, fall edge.  
Wordt certainly, though mingled with a high resolution, strangely distempered: and representing so much of danger, as might have troubled the courage of the Army. And howsoever partial history in mentioning the actions of great men, will not allow them to participate with the vulgar in the weaknesses incident to humane nature, yet every greatest Spirit hath his allay of imbecility. The most knowing Scholar hath found a period, beyond which his curious search could not move: the wisest Politician hath discovered where he erred, and blushed at the mistake: and the boldest soldier at some time hath soon● the Coward tremble in him. We may b●i●ht endeavours raise nature somewhat above her frailty: but never triumph: over her till death.  
And certainly Warwick was too much ●●●●● at this accident: but soon he settled ●●●●selfe, and by his stout compo●ment 〈…〉 fied th●s ●ainting army. But King Edward, whose youth was beautified with valour and wisdom, eve● to wonder, ●o bently entertained this sad reporti● and to oppose against any fear, which might shake the Soldier; caused immediate Proclamati do● to be made; That it was lawful for any man whom the present loss, or fear of ●in●●e danger discouragd, safely to depart: that whosoever should perform the duty of a Soldier and fight manfully, should have a certain and a most large reward: On the contrary to any man● who should continue in the Army, and hereafter fly away; the severest punishment, and liberty for any one to kill such a coward, with promise of double pay.  
No man accepted the offer of so contemned a safety: and indeed the body of his Army consisted of Southern men, whose ●light had perhaps been as unsafe as the present danger. Moreover the example of the valiant persuaded the rest, who blusht●o appear single ●● their fears: whereby not being known they grew afterward to have equal title, with the most daring to a glorious victory.  
The King seeing the Spirit of his Army; so bold, and so devoted to his service; thought the loss of time might endanger the loss of his design: and thereupon resolved with that first convenience to bring his Fortune to the trial of a battle. The Lord Fauconbrige and Sir Walter ●●●●●, in regard the Duke of Norfolk was then disabled by sickness, had the leading of the va●●tguard▪ who finding the passage of Forribrig●mpossible ●mpossible on the su●●●n ●o betaine, three miles by hand, at ●●stl● f●●d pa●●●●● P●●●●●●●●d son af●●● about ●●●ding●●●● d●●cove●●● the Lord Cliff●●d, whom. they suddenly ●ye●●●●●● and ●●compast; in vain ●●boring to retire to the main battle. But he perceiving no way to lead from his Enemies but through death ●● with ●i● small Forces even to the envy of them who overc●me, till shot with an a●●ow through the ●●●o●te he perished. The Lord John N●●●●● So●●●● in the Earl of West●●●land with al●●●● shall th●se ●●●● forth h●●● troops fell there with thei● la●●d●● the Lord Cliff●rd, Who in too mild ● manner paid the● the great debt he owed, the murder ●●● the young Earl of R●t●a●d.  
Next day being ●alme Sunday, early in the mor●●●● both Armies came in sight: A fatal meeting, which like the union of the soul with the body, ●●ver pa●●●●●●● by death. The field was between Caxton and T●●t●n, from the latter of: which thi● battle afterward took name. On full Survey of King Haunches host so dreadful in advantage of ●●●●be●: Reclamation was▪ made in King Edward●●●pe ●●●pe ●●●●●● quarter should be given nor prisoner taken▪ A ●●cessary cruelty not to be avoy●●● but with danger of his own ruin: In regard otherwise the common Soldier might in hope of ●●●yle of the ransom of an enemy, be wanting to his duty.  
It was about the hour of nine, when the Armies drew near: threescore thousand for Lancaster, for York scarce forty thousand: only the presence and courage of King Edward made an equality. The Lord Eauconbrige to whom the Van was committed, and who was most able for the place, when the fight was ready to begin, charged his Archers, soon as they had shot, to fall three strides back and make a stand▪ whereby they might avoid the arrows of the Enemy: which stratagem happened as was expected; for the Northern men with a sudden fury answered the on set, and having emptied their quivers hasted to hand blows: But the Arrows which they had discharged, having never reached them against whom they were shot, turned now to their annoyance and trouble, so far that the splinters of them sticking in the ground pierced and galled their feet, and forced them to a confused stop. In this trouble the Southern men shot another flight, and the wound conspiring with their cunning blue a tempest of hail and snow into their faces: by which the Vanguard of King Henry led by the Earl of Northumberland and Andrew Trollop gave back.  
Yet did not the main battle tremble with this motion: but as if the enemy had gained no advantage, continued with, the first constancy. Ten hours' victory hung in suspense: equal courage on both sides; equal hopes in the good, equal despairs in the bad success▪ which occasioned so much cruelty in the fight. But at length (the field stained with blood, and the earth groaning with the burden of so many heaps of dead and dying bodies) the Northern men began to hope for safety only in flight▪ Neither did they ●eeld to the prevailing Fortune of the Enemy, until their courages were dismayed with sight of so many eminent persons slain before their eyes. For the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, the Lords Beaumond D'acres, Grace and Wells with divers others of greatest reputation for Nobility and courage had already fall'n; and in their slaughter taught the survivers what to expect. The Dukes of Somerset and Exeter, seeing all things desperate; the greater part of the Army slain, the rest broken and flying: posted to York, to carry the fatal news of this overthrow to the unfortunate King: whose virtue yet had a patience greater than his ruin.  
In no battle was ever poured forth so much English Blood: for in this and the two precedent days were slain, six and thirty thousand, seven hundred seventy six persons: all of one nation, many near in alliance, some in Blood; fatally divided by faction: yet all animated with the same zeal to maintain their Princes right▪ which being so difficult to resolve, doubtless made the quarrel on either side, how ruinous soever to their famelies; not unsafe to their Consciences. And it is worthy observation, that in this so long and cruel conflict between the two houses; never any stranger of name was present at our battles: as if we had disdained to conquer or perish by other weapons than our own.  
Kind Henry perceiving how desperate his hopes were in England, with the poor remains of his party, secured himself by flight into Scotland: And with such haste, that before King Edward got to York (where he hoped to have surprised him dismayed with the late discomsiture) nothing was there left but the City humbly devoted to the dispose of the Conqueror. But on the walls yet remained the heads of Richard Duke of York and his friends; an ignominious spectacle, unluckily there standing to in●ence him to cruelty. For on sight of so barbarous an injury▪ he gave present command that Thomas Earl of De●●a●●i●● should be beheaded with three others taken in the former battle: that these new heads might relieve them who had stood centinel so long; and that his father and friends might not want that busy part of the body to be enclosed with them in the grave. An action too much savouring of the ancient Heathen: the souls of Christians no way requiring their murders to be revenged, or their injuries appeared with such an offering.  
After this dire oblation, he sent part of his Forces to clear the coast toward Scotland, from the dregs of war: where to terrify that people prone to innovation in King Henry's quarrel, some examples of severity were made. In the interim he with as glorious triumph and large joy as victory could beget, which begot no less to him than absolute Sovereignty, marched toward London. By the inhabitants whereof, who were deeply interessed in his Fortune, he was with all the solemnity of a secure gladness entertained. To the triumph of his entrance, soon succeeded that of his Coronation, performed with usual ceremonies, but most unusual congratulations.  
Immediately, that no circumstance of sovereignty might be wanting, a Parliament was Summoned: By which his title might be reconfirmed▪ his partakers rewarded, his enemies punished. And though private respects were his chief business, desiring to disannul all acts made heretofore in prejudice to the house of York and its adherents: yet the outward pretention was the safety and quiet of the Realm. For he publicly professed his only care to be, that such wholesome laws might be enacted; as might redress disorders crept into the state, by free licence given to rapine in the former troubles. By which appearance of solicitude for quieting the republic, he gained authority among the wise, and created a belief in all, that his government in peace would be as fortunate, as his success in war. Having by his wisdom and providence thus won opinion upon the generality▪ he bestowed his graces on particular persons, whom blood in merit rendered dear to him. His brothers George and Richard he created Dukes, the elder of Clarence, the younger of Gloucester. john Lord Nevil the Earl of Warwick's brother, he made Viscount Montague, Henry Bourchier brother to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Earl of Essex: and William Lord Fauconbrige Earl of Kent. He erected divers others to the Title of Barons, and honoured many with Knighthood. The conclusion of this great assembly was punishment: for John Earl of Oxford, Aubery Vere his son, Sir John Tiddenham Knight, William Tirrell and Walter Mountgomery Esquires, were without answer convict of● reason and behended. A rough proceeding which favoured something too much of the Conqueror.  
Businesses thus happily settled at home, to check the audaciousness of our transmarin neighbours (who had throwrie injuries on our Nation weakened by discord) the Earls of Esse● and Kent with the Lord Audley were sent with ten thousand soldiers to scour the narrow Seas: who first landing in Britain took the Town of Conquest: and afterward in the Isl● of R●●, pillaged that little Country, and with victory returned. By which enterprise, though of n● signal consequence to his affairs, yet King Edward gave the French to understand ho●● unfa●●● it was to ●●●●tate the English governed by ●●● active Princes who might perhaps 〈◊〉 in person app●●●e abroad, for the recovery of ●●●ose Provinces, nothing but ●●●● diss●●sion ●●ould have losco As likewise to terrify all 〈◊〉 states from adhering to King Henry, who both in c●●rage and fortune was ●o ●a●●e inferio●●.  
And no●● was the prosperity of Edward●n ●n so full splendour, and so dark a cloud hung over the house of Lancaster that Henry Duke of Somm●rset and Sir Ralph Percy for ●●●●e the ●●ine● of that family, they had ●● long endeavoured to support. To King Edward the submission of two so eminent persons appeared welcome as a victory and they by his favour were presently restored to full possession both of honour and ●●tar●: the same grace promised to any, who migh●●● example should persuade.  
Yet did not the indefatigable Queen lose any thing from her spirit on endeavours: H●qlate so sad discomfiture, and revolt now of her chief adherents, able perhaps to 〈◊〉 for●●●●, not her. And having upon full reckoning, perceived that she must account of no power at home, she made her addresses to all Princes abroad, whom allianee, reason of state, or compassion of so great a disaster, might move to her assistance. But, as it is in the fate of all women who usurp on their husbands, she had been ●o happy in manage of his prosperity and Tow● w●somuch mor●●●capable to ingole against christ for●●● and 〈◊〉 in felicity G●●● undertake being 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 successful in 〈◊〉, whose government 〈◊〉, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 it is 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 self in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 been disorderly and 〈◊〉 But certainly how erroneous however 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 she ●●● now defective only in th●● 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 is not ruled by ours, but by a high 〈◊〉.  
For wi●● the King of Scotland (with 〈◊〉 is in the nearest place of safety, she l●●●●●er h●●●●●nd) to confirm a secure friendship, she contracted a near alliance: by promising the young. Prince her son in marriage to his lister. And that this marriage might not seem a gift but a bargain; she ●●●ght the (Lady by 〈◊〉 of Berwick into the Scot●●ands; ●●● strongest Fort 〈◊〉 English 〈◊〉 in the North. But the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ever ●●●●●●er son their 〈◊〉 and for●● to ●op●●gha●e what otherwise they would with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 persuaded to receive.  
With Lewes the Eleventh the French King, she prevailed little, though near to him 〈◊〉 confanguinity: for the discontent of his Nobility, held him incontinuall suspicion. Otherwise she had title to promise herself large supplies from so potent and politic a Prince, whose interest it must no reas●● have been, by fomenting discord at home, to hinder us from any attempt abroad. After ●uch 〈◊〉, she obtained that he declared himself ●●● King Henry: By prohibiting all favourers of the house of York access into the French dominions; and opening them to all those of the party of Lancaster. A negative kind of help, which rather showed there yet was Sanctuary left for Henry's unhappy friends, than any considerable aid to be expected.  
Philip Duke of Burgundy, though a mighty Prince, and near allied to Lancaster (whose wives mother was Philippe, daughter to John of Gaunt) by age, and a passionate love to quiet, was become altogether unactive. Neither had Charles Earl of Charolois, his son, though of a daring Spirit and an affecter of business, leisure to look over into our Island: being engaged to domestic troubles, and suspicious of the designs of the French King.  
With Charolois, the Duke of Britain held a strong confederacy: and both of them intelligence with the discontented Lords of France. The war which was afterward so known by the name of the Weal-public being at that time among them privately in contrivance: so that all these neighbouring Princes, to whom the affairs of England might seem considerable, were wholly taken up with attention to their own.  
The Emperor Frederick the third was more remote: and so cautious from entering into the quarrels of other men; that by any Art & even with loss he would decline his own. Moreover he justly stood in continual fear of the growing Fortune of the Turk: who having lately subverted the Eastern, threatened now ruin to the Western Empire: and questionless had not the great God of Armies miraculously given a stop to his victories; Christendom had now been only several Provinces slaved to his tyranny. For pride and emulation had then turned our Arms upon ourselves, and left our bodies naked to the scourge of the common enemy.  
Spain was far off, divided between a Christian and Mahometan government, each labouring the extirpation of the other, so that they had liberty to be Actors in no Tragedy but their own. And indeed no conflict is so fierce and irreconciliable; as when Religion animates to war, and makes it piety to be cruel.  
To her Father therefore, who enjoyed the specious title of King of Sicily, Naples, and Jerusalem, but possession of none of them, the afflicted Queen was forced to make a sad retreat. A poor contemptible Lord, living now to see his son in Law, once the greatest Monarch of the Christian world, a Prince as merely titular as himself. As if it had been the Fate of these two, that the one could say, he might have been, the other that once he was a King.  
Leaving therefore foreign states intentive to their own designs: with her son, whom to move compassion she had carried up and down: the Queen returned to Scotland: by her long but unsuccesful labour, having gathered together five hundred French: a number so small and so unworthy the name of an Army, that it was but a competent retinue for so great a Princess. With these nevertheless she sailed to Timmouth, whence she was repulsed by the inhabitants soon as she landed; and forced again to put to Sea. But there (for where may the unfortunate meet with friendship?) she found the winds her enemies, whose unruly force drove her at length disorderly to Berwick.  
here some thin regiments of Scots resorted to her; in company of whom she entered Northumberland: her husband 〈◊〉 in the Fro●●, that the name and presence of King 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 invite the people to their ancient service; and 〈◊〉 Authority to the designe● B●● soon th●●e 〈◊〉 her error; for hope, not compassion 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 danger▪ and the Commonalty fate still, 〈◊〉 by rising they understood themselves only 〈◊〉 to sha●● in the King's misfortune. For having upon a just a●c●ou●● discovered how war●● i● o●ely necessary to the most desperate, and that in the 〈◊〉 it leaves them to nothing but b●gg●ry and ●●●●●shment they were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the love of 〈◊〉 and every man betook himself to industry▪ And for the Nobility▪ the King had ●●on the●●●●th●t by the reputation of his fortune▪ or te●r●● of his courage; so that ●●m●ma●●o 〈◊〉 to change subjection. Only H●●●●y Duke of Somerset, and Sir Ralph Percy, who ●ot long before had forsook King H●n●y in his tempest, no●● upon a false hope of fairer weather: st●●● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. For it is a ridiculous ●●●●ing in Historians to ascribe the action of great men perpetually to policy; since irresolution prevails equally ●●●●● them as with the vulgar. And why might ●●●● desperation be g●t submission in these ●●●● bo●●ing Edward; and a vain appearance of a re●ur●e of fortune to King Henti●s 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to this lastrevolt.  
Upon this so weak 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Margaret, perceiving 〈◊〉 friendship 〈◊〉 husbands native Country, destroyed it as if an enemies▪ And ●anting forc● to r●ach the prosperity of her Competitor, ●●ll ●●●elly 〈◊〉 the Common people, 〈◊〉 hitherto been only subject to his Fortune▪ b●a●ing inwardly a 〈◊〉 passionate love to the family of Lancaster. But this outrageous carriage of the Army, changed absolutely their affections to the Queen: Who was questionless by necessity compelled to things unlawful, whereby to prevent the disbanding of her Forces, which were only paid, and kept together by a licentious spoil.  
To oppose against this attempt, which only betrayed the weakness of the Enemy; King Edward sent down the Lord Montague▪ himself staying behind to raise an Army, befitting the greatness of his name, and present quarrel. Giving likewise order that his Navy should guard the Seas, to hinder any succours to the Queen from foreign confederates. But this was an unnecessary caution t● no state abroad being so desperate, as to embark itself i● the broken seat of her Fortune.  
Montague at Land had a braver occasion to show his courage: who having in the Bishopric of Dur●sme gathered convenient Forces, marched directly against King Henry. By the way the Lords Hungerford, and Rosse, and Sir Ralph Percy presented themselves to hinder his farther course: but perceiving the good order and courage of his Army, all fled but the valiant Percy▪ Who disdaining to reprieve his life beyond his honour, or to show the least weakness beneath his name or Spirit fought it out with his 〈◊〉; till overp●est with number; he and his were all cut to pieces.  
Encouraged with his success Montague attempts, without expectation of any farther succour or direction, to finish the present war●e: and immediately marches to a plain near the River dowel in Hexam-shire, where King Henry's Army lay encamped. The Camp he suddenly assaults in the night; and had taken it without any loss, had not the enemy beyond reason gathered themselves into some order and valiantly opposed. But no courage could withstand the Fortune and spirit of Montague, for the Queen's Camp at length was lost, and in it taken the Duke of Somerset, the Lords Hungerford, Rosse, Moulins and Hussie, with Wentworth and Finderne Knights: Somerset on the place lost his head: the rest sent to Newcastle to suffer there the same punishment. But King Henry and the Queen escaped at the first on set: whose Tragedy drew not yet ne'er the last Act.  
King Edward whose Fortune fought for him, even in his absence, encountered the news of this victory in his march toward Durisme: so that finding the presence of his person and Army needless he returned toward York: Giving command to Warwick to take in all the Forts and Castles which yet in the North held out. On the way he was certified of the apprehension of King Henry's person, who was surprised as he endeavord by shifting from place to place to have recovered Scotland. With the joy of which report King Edward returned to London, whether as yet he never came but glorious in the accession of some new Triumph.  
The son of Sir Edward Talbot of Lanca-shire, apprehended King Henry as he sat at dinner at Waddington Hall, and forgetting all respect due to so great a Prince, like a common malefactor with his legs tied under the horse belly, guarded him up toward London. By the way the Earl of Warwick met him, who adding indignities to his affliction, with the general reproaches of the people (the acclamations they give to the unfortunate) led him prisoner to the Tower. The only companions of his present calamity, were Doctor Manning Deane of Windsor, and Doctor Bedle: both of so divine a calling, as showed no misfortune could separate him from his Piety.  
The miserable Queen seeing the desolation of her greatness, her husband imprisoned, all her great partakers fled or slaughtered, made again her retreat into France: and with her son (whose preservation flattered her with some hope that one day he might rebuild the now ruin'd house of Lancaster) fled to her father's Court. A most wretched Sanctuary to her fears: where she had only leisure by long sufferance to prepare her mind for future misery.  
But this her dejection raised Edward up to an unsuspicious Sovereignty: so that now he began to set strong the disjointed body of his Kingdom. And knowing liberality the only ligament that ties affection to a Prince, he resolved by attaindor of his enemies to enable himself to reward the services of his friends. And though he pretended the gate of mercy ever to stand open to the submission of the Lancastrians, yet few or none accepted the favour: either distrustful of his reality, or feeding their hopes with imagination that the tide of Fortune would not still flow with so impetuous a torrent.  
But King Edward disdaining a faction so contemptible in their ruin, should disdain his clemency; proceeded to punishment. The Earldom of Pembroke, an honour heretofore enjoyed by Jasper Teuther half brother to Henry the sixth, he bestowed on Sir William Herbert a Knight of Wales, both for descent and power most eminent, and to whose aid a great part of the present felicity was owing. To the Lord Montague, whose person and service he equally loved, he gave the opulent possessions belonging to the family of the Percies.  
But the most open hand cannot satisfy the expectation of great deservers: who set so high a price upon their merits, that they leave their Princes no power of reward. The greatest benefit being received in the degree of a debt, not a gift. And certainly Montague and his brother Warwick had by too much merit even disobleiged the King: what honour soever they were in future to have, being so little able to cancel the obligation, it could scarce defray the interest. And in that way was this title and inheritance accepted, which gave the King occasion to distaste whom otherwise he would with passion have embraced. Whereupon reflecting on the danger of adding power to them, who wanted only will to do mischief, and knowing how easily innovation might be resolved on, when nothing but the conscience was to be persuaded: he began seriously to wish the mightiness of that family (he owed the crown to) in some degree lessened. Yet that he might no way appear unthankful to so great deserts, he thought fit to weaken their strength, and yet to add to the spender of their title. Whereupon he willingly admitted the friends of Percy to interced for restitution both of honour and revenue, and soon granted it: Rewarding Montague with the more specious stile of marquis. But this state-trick was by the brothers easily understood, and accepted with the same brow they would have entertained an injury.  
Which the King dissembled; and to build his estimation high in the air of popular applause, endeavord by all the Arts of humble greatness to endear himself into the opinion of the multitude. His presence was easy to any man's love or curiosity, his aspect clear and smiling, his language free and familiar. And to the Ladies who have also their share in the motion of states, he applied a general courtship: which used by a Prince and of so amiable a personage; made them, usually the Idols of others, Idolaters of him. Among his Nobility he was so supple in gesture, and liberal in affability; that he appeared King, not in his assumption of state, but in their application of duty. This to win outward applause: while to settle an inward sense of his wisdom, he looked into abuses of Officers, and reform them. Neither was there any oppression or mistake in government, but what he relieved or corrected. And that it might appear how zealously ●ee sought due administration of justice, he in person sat three days together on his Bench at Westminster Hall: which though it little advanced the uncorcupted execution of the laws, yet it served happily for example, and created, what he then most courted, opinion.  
Thus he grew upon his people at home, while abroad the neighbouring states began to decline the danger of his future enmity: who ever measure the power of Princes by that sway and affection they have among their subjects. Charles Earl of Charolois (a widower but without heir male) heir to a large and opulent territory (the seventeen Provinces with the Duchy and County of Burgundy, and the greatest part of Picardy, being subject to Duke Philip his Father) first made his address. Who bearing an implacable hatred to Lewis of France, desired to gain so potent a neighbour to his party: and that he might secure the friendship against all vacillation, he by his Ambassadors entreated a marriage with the Lady Margaret, the King's sister. A motion heard in England with much acceptance, and which every circumstance well weighed, brought both honour and security. But it was thought by some intimate with the Earl in his most inward counsels, that really he never intended this marriage: having from his mother, niece to John of Oaunt Duke of Lancaster derived an irreconcilable malice against the house of York. And that this negotiation aimed only to temporize with England, in case the Duke of Britain and the French Kings brother should desert him and make their peace with Lewis; against whom these three were then in confederacy: but this I believe an overcunning in conjecture; since marriage among Princes, as it seldom confirms a sound friendship, so doth it never extirpate an ancient hatred: the proof of our and all times showing how false a love is created by alliance. But the thoughts of Princes are so unknown to Posterity, that they are beyond the ●or●ti●●e of the present time. I will not therefore dispute what the Earls inward designs were; but certainly both according to reason of state and the ●v●o●● (which is the best light Historians can discern by) as it was pretended so was it intended.  
The marriage of his sister, thus far advanced, he began to advise with Counsel concerning his own. A strong alliance abroad was soon resolved most necessary both for the dignity and safety of his Crown: and among all the Princesses that time gloried in, the Lady Bona was thought worthiest his bed. In respect of the excellency of her beauty, greatness of birth (as being daughter to Lewis Duke of Savoy) and the mighty marriage of her other sister with Lewis the Eleventh of France. This last consideration being a main inducement: as by which all fear might be taken away of a tempest from that coast, whence Queen Margaret seemed to prepare a storm.  
To this negotiation the Earl of Warwick was deputed as the fittest person, both for his great faith to the King, and authority in the Kingdom. Who no sooner arrived at the French Court, where the young Lady then resided, in company of her sister; but was withal triumph entertained, and his motion heard with joy and acceptation.  
The ambition of the French Queen to have her sister married to so great a Prince prevailing against many politic respects, which might else have overswayed King Lewis. And soon after for an absolute conclusion of all businesses. Mounsiur D'ampmartin was designed Ambassador for England. These two Kings equally soliciting the perfection of this marriage. Edward that he might without fear of more danger enjoy the glory of a late recovered Kingdom. Lewis, that freed from the danger of an English invader, he might give a period to his busy projects at home, by laying the devil of civil war, raised by a tumultuous Nobility.  
But while policy acted several parts abroad; love on the sudden changed the whole Scene at home. For the Young King after hunting coming to visit the Duchess of Bedford at her Manor of Grafton near S●ony. Stratford, was solicited by a fair petitioner the Duchess' daughter, widow of Sir John Grace, ●●●●e on King Henry's part at the battle of S ●. Alban. The King could not but yield to any request made by ●● conquering a beauty, and presently himself glue as earnest in soliciting her▪ but in a more unlawful suit. But she armed her ●oule with a modesty able to break the hottest battery of lust: and though on every side assaulted by the engines of temptation, she repulsed her enemy so nobly; that he offered party upon honourable terms▪ For when the King perceived her adorned with a chastity strong enough to resist him▪ who had scarce ever been but victorious in those attempts, he grew enamoured on the beauty of her mind, and resolved her virtue was dowry enough to marry her to the highest Throne. Reason of state argued sharply against a marriage so unequal to Majesty, by alleging the peril of irritating so potent a neighbour as King Lewis, and so dangerous a subject as Warwick, as likewise the inconvenience of raising a widow to his bed, who could bring nothing with her but her poverty, and an unprovided issue: Who if not advanced by him would be a scorn to his children, if advanced a ruinous charge to his Exchequer, and an envy both to the Princes of his blood, and the Nobility of his Kingdom. But Love like a cunning Sophister easily refelled all politic arguments, and persuaded reason herself almost to be of his side.  
For he repeated to the King his own prerogative, which being so large; why should he then be denied the liberty of a free choice, which is allowed the meanest subject? Why might not he woo with his own eyes, and make election where his fancy best delighted? As for the Lady herself he found her in the treasures of her mind most abundant, and in the perfections of her body excellent to please him, who, and not the state, was to marry. For her birth, she was by the father Noble in descent at home, by her mother of the house of Luxenbourge, a family with which the greatest Princes of Christendom had near alliance. As for marrying a subject and the widow of his enemy: the later argued more charity, and the former could not but tie the affection of his people, when they saw their Prince disdained not affinity with them. For a precedent to authorise these his intended Nuptials, he had Edward the Black Prince his great Uncle, great indeed if not the greatest, among all the Princes of his name. And for the threatened danger from King Lewis or the Earl of Warwick: from France he could never expect how near so ever the alliance had been but an unfaithful amity: and should this his marriage thrust Warwick upon rebellious attempts, the rebel would but fond run upon his own ruin: since it could not stand with the Majesty of a King, to hold his Crown by so base a tenure, as to have his actions awed by a subject. These and such like arguments, which love is cunning upon all occasions to enforce, prevailed so far that though the old Duchess of York his mother most violently opposed, by throwing the highest calumnies upon the Lady Grace, and alleging a precontract with the Lady Lucy, yet one morning secretly did he marry her. For the disparity of birth or Fortune is no impediment; and for the precontract: upon examination the Lady Lucy herself acquitted the King, only laying to his change the guilt of a most winning courtship▪ And though afterward during the usurpation of Richard the third, in open Parliament was alleged against the lawfulness of King Edward's marriage▪ strange potions and amorous charms by which the Lady Elizabeth Grace bewitched him to her love, and likewise another precontract with the Lady Edeanor Dutler daughter to the Earl of Shrewsbury and widow to the Lord of Sudlye: I cannot but believe all those scandals by some of the tyrant's wicked instruments, suggested into the minds of that assembly. For had there been a just exception against this marriage neither George Duke of Clarence, nor the Earl of Warwick, in their frequent calumnies against the King being in open rebellion, had left it unmentioned.  
But no sooner had King Edward obeyed his ●ancie in taking her to his bed, and in that ●asted the forbidden fruit (forbidden I mean by politic respects) but he saw himself naked, of friends at home and abroad, to oppose against any new arising difficulty. But as yet by the bravery of his carriage did he a●de an honour to the ●ct▪ Courage and Love, either denying him● to foresee or to regard the danger. Though as soon as the marriage was de●●●ged, he presently I discerned another face of men. Mo●●●●i●r 〈◊〉 in the Extraordinary for France, full of indignation, returned and the Nobility in general look● discontented, or else but forced a smile▪ The so● hig● advancement of this one Lady and her children, lately beneath so many in fortune, begetting an universal envy in the rest. But when the Earl of Warwick understood how mighty an affront by this was given to his employment; he entertained none but disdainful thoughts against his Prince▪ And expressed so bold a discontent▪ that Lewis of France, who was quick to perceive, and careful to momentany displeasure, which might tend to the disturbance of another Kingdom, began to enter into private communication with him. For ever after this common injury, so they called the error of love in the King, the Earl held a dangerous intelligence in France, which after occasioned so many confusions to our Kingdom▪ Nevertheless upon his return he dissembled ●ll discontent, and in every circumstance of respect applied himself to applaud the marriage, and in particular the excellent personage of the Queen▪ The King interpreted the intentions of the man according to the appearance, unwilling perhaps to rack his own nature so far till it had confessed that his carriage might dissemble danger. And in the mean time to raise his wife's kindred as near as possibly to his own greatness, he search● out all means for their advancement▪ The Lord Richard Widdevill her Father he created Earl of Rivers, and High Constable of England, with an annual Fee of 200▪ pound out of the Exchequer, whom shortly after he made Lord Treasure●▪ Her brother Anthony he created Lord Scales, the daughter and heir● to which title, by the Kings▪ earnest solicitation, he not long before had wedded. And her son Thoma● he raised to the honour of marquis D●rset, for whom he procured in marriage the heir of the Lord Bonvile and Harrington. By his own free gift enobling them with titles, and by the industry of his mediation enabling them with possessions, to make those titles no scorn to the owners.  
Every unmarried Lord imagined the bestowing of these two great heirs on the Queen's kindred, an injury to his own hopes: And Warwick thought every great office conferred upon another, misplaced. For his many Services begot so great an insolency, that he scarce allowed the King a share in the distribution of his own: Hereupon his thoughts grew dangerous, and only opportunity was wanting to thrust him into action. He considered the vastness of his possessions, the greatness of his authority among the Commons, and the general dependencies of the men of war upon him; and hence concluded, it was as easy for him to uncreate as to create a King▪ But he found the general humour of the kingdom not yet fully ripe for mischief: the vulgar enamoured on the much courtesy of their Prince; the Lords nearest to him in blood & likeliest to incline to his Faction dear likewise to the King; and all of the house of Lancaster who by probability would at first invitement take fire in any combustion of the state, exiled and poor. Sedition therefore for the present was but an embryo in his brain, which after when time had delivered, became so vast and bloody a monster. Nevertheless he was not unmindful of his design, cherishing unkind thoughts in any whom he saw distasted at the King, and casting forth speeches which might lessen the honour of his public and private actions▪ with which discourses, as with slow poisons he infected many limbs of the general body. Then upon pretention of infirmity, and prescription of Physicians for the change of air, with licence from the King he retired to his Castle at Warwick. Where his observation was, what Lords great in power or treasure resorted to him, and with what countenance, whether they undervalved the weakness of the King's judgement, or hated the advancement of the Queen and her kindred: whether they were troubled at any private repulse or open affront, or generally at the public business: or whether they repented not the so violent oppression of the family of Lancaster: Any discontent making for his purpose, which either pointed at the errors of the King, pride of the Queen and her kindred, or the misgovernment of the state. Upon the affections of the meaner sort begained by a profuse hospitality▪ ●● open kitchen and buttery persuading more with them than any duty to justice: Upon the good will of the better sort he won, by bowing his entertainment down to an endearing familiarity, saluting every man courteously by his name, and engaging them by trivial benefits. And with all sorts by his great service to the Crown, and a carriage Noble both in war and peace.  
The King, though he wanted that virtue of ●owards, suspicion; began nevertheless to have the Earl in some jealousy: his unusual retiredness from the Court, and so expenseful purchasing the voice of the people, argued both distaste against his Prince, and a hope to maintain any unlawful enterprise by Faction. But either in policy he dissembled his distrust, nor having yet any firm ground to build a just accusation, or in good nature would eclipse the Earl's greatness, by which himself enjoyed a benefit little less tha● the Crown. But that the storm threatened from France, for incensing King Lewis in the discoursed marriage of the Lady ●ona▪ might be diverted▪ he made strong confederacies round about him. With Henry King of Castle, and John King of Ar●agon, that Spain▪ however far remo●e, might b●e near in friendship, he entered into leag●●: and upon the conclusion of it, granted licence for the transportation of certain Cotsall sheep thither, a grant that is complained of still, as a mighty enriching to the Spanish, and as great an empoverishing to the English Merchant. With Scotland he made a truc● for fifteen years, that he invading France, or invaded by the French, might be secure however not to have that Nation, according to their custom upon all advantages enemies at his back. His Ambassadors in the Low Countries, urged the Duke of Burg●ndie to ●●● accomplishment of the marriage between his son the Earl of Charolois, and the Lady Margaret the King's sister. And so happy success had thi● negotiation, that though for some years it had hung ●n suspense, it was now absolutely agreed on, and the Bastard of Burgundy sent over with full instructions and power to give the Treaty a final conclusion. For whatsoever dissimulation the Earl of Charolois used at first▪ he now int●●●●● th●s marriage seriously: In regard he found himself lie open to the ma●ice of King Lewis▪ a most dangerous Neighbour, who by policy or 〈◊〉 had broken all those great confederacies the Earl had before in France. Wherefore ●here was now no ●afe●y but in ar●ing himself by a ●●●●●● amity with the English, a Nation forward and fierce to attempt any thing upon the French, and in their attempts scarce ever but prosperous. Neither was the courage of the King's youth, and his continual good success in war a small inducement: considering it gave a certain hope, that he upon any invitation of honour or profit might be persuaded to cross the Seas, & undertake the ancient national quarrel. And for the danger of any alteration in the government, there was then no ground for suspicion: the King honoured and loved by his people, the adverse faction of no power, and the Earl of Warwick having never yet declared himself but most passionately affected to the house of York. Wherefore in reason of sta●e being no impediment, the marriage was soon ageeed on, and upon the agreement, many triumphs glorious but martial, according to the nature of that time, so devoted to Arms.  
But to interrupt the jollity of these Triumphs, an express came from the Low-Countries, with the news of the death of Duke Philip: Presently the Bastard returned, and our Council stood at a gaze, being in some suspense what alteration the business might receive, the Earl now absolute in possession of his Father's dominions. But that scruple was soon taken away, by an Ambassador sent to hasten the full performance of the marriage. Whereupon the Lady was carried over with all the ceremonies of greatness, and at Burges married to Duke Charles: that Nation which then exceeded all the World in bravery and riot, exceeding even itself, at this tiumph, in the wantonness of a superfluous pomp. In those Countries she lived some while his wife, though ever barren with as much love from him, as he could spare from his ambitious wars, but she continued long his widow in much reputation among the Natives and good esteem with neighbouring Princes. Two things rendered her much the discourse of those times. An extraordinary love and care in the education of the posterity of her husband, and an extreme malice against Henry the seventh. To supplant whom, because there wanted true, she countenanced the suppositious Princes of the house of York; and by continual practices revenged in part, the injury of that disrespect, he ever cast upon her family.  
This so potent alliance, and his confederacies with foreign states, made King Edward imagine himself in great security, when indeed he was most unsafe. For during these treaties abroad and triumphs at home; the Earl of Warwick quickened so far his designs, that now there appeared a dangerous life in them. The body of his Faction was grown mighty but monstrous, being compacted of several natures. For into conspiracy of this great enterprise he had drawn off the Clergy, and the Laity, and most of them of affections most opposite. The Archbishop of York was the principal mover, because he moved upon the soul; and made treason an act of Religion▪ The easy multitude who build their faith upon the man, not the Doctrine; thinking it meritorious to rebel, in regard his function seemed to give authority to the action. With the Archbishop the marquis Montague consented, but secretly: either cunningly dissembling mischief, or else wishing well to both sides being in himself divided between a natural love to a brother, and an allegiance to a Prince: or perhaps projecting to make his benefit, out of which party soever should prevail. With these agreed many eminent persons of King Edward's Court; whom either desire of war, having never lived but in the troubled stream of discord, or want of expected recompense, rendered discontent.  
All the partakers in the calamity of the house of Lancaster, most passionately at first overture embraced this motion: as men, whom desperation had prepared fit for the mostruinous attempt. And who, having found nothing but evil fortune at home, and contempt abroad, were instructed in a patience ready with joy to suffer a not inglorious death. Among whom Henry Holland Duke of Exeter was a sad example; who after his ruin with the fall of Henry the sixth was reduced to so miserable a condition, that all ragged and bare footed he begged for his meat in the Low-Countries, the absolute Prince whereof and he, married two sisters, the daughters of Richard Duke of York. With this so unfortunate Lord, all the rest who shared with him in misery, ran violently into this war. But the wonder of the world than was at the powerful sorcery of those persuasions, which bewitched the Duke of Clarence, the King's brother to this conspiracy: but he was young & purblind in foreseeing the event of things Profuse in expense beyond his revenue, and almost beyond the King's power to supply: grudging the favours conferred upon the Queen and her kindred: Valuing his birth too high, as who forgot the brother of a King is but a subject: forward upon any terms to make himself greater; easily lending ear to dangerous whispers, and as rashly giving consent. These preparatives made this young Prince fit to take any mischief, which the Earl of Warwick ministered most plentifully. And first to apply to the narrowness of his present fortune, a humour most troublesome at the instant; he gave him in marriage the Lady Isabella his daughter, and ooheire to the rich Earldom of Warwick. In hatred against the Queen he concurd and in discontent against the Kings so slender rewards: but in promising greatness to Clarence's ambition, he exceeded even proportion; though not probability: considering the Earls unlimited power. But first to make the friendship strong by a near alliance, they sailed over for the consummation of this marriage to Calais, of which town the Earl of Warwick was Captain, and in which the young Lady than remained with her mother. Soon was this ceremony past, and soon did the Earl invite his Son-in-law from the softness of the nuptial dalliance, as who had contrived this marriage for business, not for pleasure: and designed the first issue of their embraces to be a monster, and the most unnatural one; War between brothers.  
He acquainted therefore his Son-in-law by what line he had sounded the depth of the people's affection to the present King; and what a tempest he was able to raise when ever he should resolve for motion. He told him how in the North 15000. men had been in Arms, pretending revenge upon the governor's of Saint leonard's Hospital in York, for converting the Alemony they received from the Country every year in Corn to their own use, by which they both defrauded the poor, and the charitable intention of the owners: Whereas indeed the armed multitude moved first by his council only, awaiting his presence, with resolution to run any hazard of his command. And though the marquis Montague, raised Forces in King Edward's name, by which he quieted the commotion, and beheaded Robert Huldron their chief Captain: yet were the people ready upon the first Summons to reassemble, and the marquis (who by such appearance of fidelity had won upon the easy faith of the dull King) prepared to bring his forces and join in any enterprise he should appoint. He showed farther how by this his brother's dissimulation, his intelligence held perfect in the King's Council; and all the resolutions of state might be without difficulty prevented, since no sooner made but discovered.  
The Duke, who before held the Earl's courage and authority with the people in great estimation, now began to wonder at the so cunning manage of this great business. Neither could he suspect the success, the Earl having so ordered things, that he left little or nothing to ●ortune. Whereupon he gave his judgement entirely up to his Fathers in law discretion; with whom he returned into England, openly professing and justifying his resolution to rebellion. The vanity of ambition sealing up his eyes so far, that he could not perceive the unnaturalness of his revolt, and the certain hazard of ruin, in warring against a Prince so great both in arms and Fortune.  
Against their return the Archbishop of York had wrought so diligently to ripen mischief; that the multitude dispersed before were again in the field, b●t under Leaders of a far more eminent name. For Henry Son to the Lord Fitz Hugh, and Henry Nevil son to the Lord Latimer (the one Nephew, the other Cousin german to Warwick) had the conduct of these Forces: both gentlemen great in blood and spirit, but in regard of their unexperienced youth, submiting themselves to the directions of Sir John Conyers, a Commander bold in courage and sober in advice. Their march was not now directed against any petty Town in the North as before, but toward London the head of the Kingdom; and the cause of their taking Arms, not upon any trivial injury or opression, but out of desire of public justice, by throwing down a licentious Usurper; and re-investing in the Sovereignty King Henry, their lawful Monarch, so injuriously detained prisoner in the Tower. This pretention carried with it much of bravery; pleased the humour of most of the Northern men, passionately still affected to the line of Lancaster, and took generally with the Commonalty a beast as prone to unseasonable pity, as to inhuman cruelty; and ever defirous to change government, because naturally it can endure none.  
The noise of these Arms waked King Edward: for he now perceived his title to the Crown, (for which he imagined he had had so clear a sentence) brought again to trial, and the sword judge. He cast his eye about him, and found every where the way open to his jealousy; and none to security: All those Lords, from whom he might expect supply, being near to Warwick in friendship or allianee, and the marquis Montague, in whose service he had ever found most trust and fortune, even brother to his enemy. How could he therefore believe, but notwithstanding all their outward professious of loyalty, privately they might favour Rebellion? As for the Queen's kindred, (of whose faith in regard of their own interest, he remained secure) he could draw little confidence: Their greatness so young, that: it had yet taken no deep root in opinion, and their Forces only weak beams shot from the Sun of the Kings own power. But no consideration in this trouble begot so much scorn and rage in him, as the revolt of Clarence, whose giddy ambition made him rather choose to become a Word to rough and insolent guardian, than to share with his brother a King in the treasures of Fortune. The forces of the Rebels he weighed more by the reputation of their leader Warwick, than by the number; though even that grew every day more formidable.  
To prepare against these dangerous motions in his English Rebels, he speedily sent to the Earl of Pembroke commission ●o raise what Welsh Forces he could: having in this general suspicion of his disloyal, subjects; most confidence in the valour of the Welsh; and their natural hatred against the English name. He required the Earl to give battle by the way, while himself gathered as great an Army as the present danger, and cause in controversy required. The Earl joyful of the command, puts suddenly into the field with his valiant brother Sir Richard Herbert, having under their conduct seven thousand men. To them soon joined eight hundred bow men, led by the Lord Stafford of Southwicke, not long before created. Earl of Devonshire. With these Forces he resolyed to hinder the Rebels in their journey, and having notice by e●piall●●●●● they took their way by Northumpton, against thei● he led the whole body of his Army▪ Having given order to Sir Richard Herbert with two thousand soldiers to wheel about, and charge the en●mle in the Rear.  
Sir John Coniers was ●●● vigilant to be su●p●●●'d, and so carefully had strengthened the Rearward that the Welch●● ●● ere ●epuh● with loss, and forced by flight to safery. Whereupon he retired to his brother: while Coniers upon new instroctions, or else fearful lest Pembroke in the way might gain some advantage, dwerted from his direct course to London, and m●●ch● to Warwick; where the Duke of Clarence and the Earl of Warwick had leviod a mighty Host P●m●rooke waits close up on their journey, expecting the opportunity ●●●●●● to cut off some part of the enemy disordered; o● to give battle to the whole Army. But while constant in this pursuit o●●l●●y, he showed all the parts of a great Commander, a small division between him and the Lord Stufford ruin'd the whole attempt. For incasnping a● Banbury question grew concerning an Inn, to which Stafford pretended as having used long to the house: but in which Pembroke in regard of his pre-eminence as General, and commodiousness of the place, was resolvid ●o lodge▪ This so ●●i●iall dista●● (if there were no farther trea●●●● in i●) grew so high that Stafford withdrew himself, and his English Arch●●s, leaving the W●●●● in A●●●● and number far inferior to the enemy▪ which defect nevertheless was supplied by their great courage.  
From when the Re●●ells who soon had notice of this unhappy discord) gave the Earl's Camp next morning a Camisado: the Welsh entertained the charge so stou●ly that they ●ooke Sir Henry Nevil the Leader; but (what savor'd too much of barbarism) most cruelly slew him in cold blood. By which Act they raised so fierce an appetite o● revenge in the enemy, that the next day they gave the Earl battle, and the fight was long and cruel. Neither ●ad the victory fallen so absolutely to the Northern men, but that John Clopton re●ainer to the Earl of Warwick, appearing upon the top of a neighbouring hill, with five hundred ragged and disordered men, u●der Warwick's standard; and the Northern men at their approach crying out a Warwick▪ a Warwicke● made the Welsh believe all the Rebel Forces were there, and that it would be but foolish desperation to fight it out against an enemy fresh and so far superior in number: whereupon they ●●ed.  
In the battle and the flight five thousand of the Welsh were slain, and among the few prisoners the Earl of Pembroke and Sir Richard Herbert were taken: whose heads soon after were sacrificed upon the Scaffold, to the Ghost of Nevil. Their valour and brave direction begetting an universal sorrow to the King's party in their deaths: and even an envy in the conquering Enemy. Neither did the Lord S●afford the author of this overthrow escape condign punishment: for by diligent inquiry found in Devons●ire, without process at Bridgewater he lost his head. Having so inconsiderately managed his business, that he betrayed King Edward's Army, upon a false apprehension of an affront: and yet provided not thereby to w●nne favour so far with the enemy, as by their Arms to protect himself from the King's just indignation.  
This victory added yet a bolder courage to the attempt of Warwick; but into the Northern multitude it infused a madness, not to be cured by any council or direction. For immediately some companies of them retired into Northampton shire; where associating to them certain of the most desperate inhabitants, no mischief was left unacted. The name they gave their Commander, (if such a disordered rabble, could obey any) was Robin Riddisdale, and their first assault on Gra●ton, a seat belonging to King Edward's Father-in-Law the Earl Rivers. The place their wild rage soon possessed, and among the other spoils violently taken there, were the Earl himself, and Sir John Widdevill his younger Son. These they prosently led to Northampton, and there beheaded without any form of Law: that deformed body having no ear open to any discourse, but to that of blood and fury. An envied life and cruel death was the Sum of all those favours conferred by Fortune on this Lord, esteemed so happy in his own marriage with Jaquet, widow of John Duke of Bedford, and daughter to Peter of Luxenburgh▪ Count St. Paul, and in his daughters with the present King. For as the assent to these strange heights are ever maligned, so the descent is ruinous and fatal: Not any one of seven sons which this Lord was Father ●o, leaving behind him issue to perpetuate the ●ame: some of them likewise extinguishing violently. A misery either seldom happening, o● not observed in meane● families.  
This great d●l●ate, and these insolences ●o beyond the sufferance of a Prince, together with the Earl of Warwick's openly professing himself head to this vast body of Rebels, struck an astonishment in the King's Army; and I will not say fear, but strange diffidence in the King himself. Which inclined him to listen to the safer though less noble advice of them, who persuaded him to end all dissension with the Earl by treaty. For in this so universal disease of the Kingdom, there was some sound men, both of the Clergy and Nobility yet left, whom faction did not interest in mischief; and who out of experience of past miseries, were willing to prevent future. By their mediation (though the Armies by this time were so near encamped, that they could hardly part without battle) were every hour made new overtures of peace, and on both sides not un willingly received. The Earl of Warwick (whose pretence was that of all Rebels, The good of the Kingdom) entertained these Treaties with a humility beneath his nature, and late advantages; neither appeared stubborn to bend down to the lowest submission, so provision might be made for the public benefit. Yet never in all these apparences of a calm, did he neglect to prepare himself against the roughest storm of war: knowing the best way to be reconciled upon safe terms to an enemy, is, not to be necessitated to peace.  
But the King of a wa●en nature, apt to receive any impress●ons best pleased his present humour; would not trouble his quiet to believe there might be fallacy in Warwicke● pretensions. Whereupon imagining that had received perfection which was then but in ●●itation; ●hee neglected the order of war, and began in his Camp to taste the pleasures of Court. Which evil discipline observed by the Earl; he takes the advantage, suddenly sets on the King's field, kills▪ the watch, and in the dead of night at Wollny within four miles of Warwick, surpriseth his person, buried in a careless sleep. So that, he no sooner waked, but found how false his dream had been, which flattered him with peace.  
This so unhappy negligence betray the King to an insulting enemy, who up braided his prisoner, in the most insolent terms, with ingratitude to his great merits; and boasted it was now both in his power and resolution to plain that mountain he had raised, and raise the humbled valley of King Henry's fortunes, up to the throne he once possessed. And presently sent away the King prisoner to Middleham Castle in Yorkshire, there to be kept by his brother busy Archbishop of that Sea: Not daring to retain him longer, lest his Army might unite, and hazard the recovery of their Prince.  
In this middle and unsafe course of managing his great fortune, questionless the Earl committed a main oversight. For either by a free delivery with some conditions advantageous for himself and friends (and what conditions would the King than not have signed?) he should have cast a perpetual obligation upon him; or else by destroying him have secured his design from after hazard: knowing that no prison could hold a Prince, which would not open to corruption or battery; and no brother could have a faith so strong which would not be in danger, to be weakened either by threats or promises. But perhaps this way of policy was only beaten by that time; and the proud Earl took a glory to keep the whole Kingdom at his devotion, and the two Competitors his Captives; for both of them his Fortune had imprisoned.  
But King Edward grew soon weary of the restraint as whom a long practice in the liberty of pleasure had not endued with such a tameness as armed King Henry. He therefore presently casts his eye about to find some way so redeem his person from captivity, and his honour from so dark an error as by negligence to have been surprised. And having upon pretence of necessary exercise for health, obtained licence to hunt in the adjoining Park, he so contrived with Sir William Stanley and Sir Thomas Burgh, that unexpected they came to his rescue with a number and resolution far superior to those who guarded him. With them he escapes to York and so to Lancaster, where the Lord Hastings Lord Chamberlain had gathered some Forces. With this increase of followers he marched directly to London, his Company growing by the way to such a body, as might not unworthily be termed a Army.  
Into the City he was received with accustomed triumph, the affection of the inhabitants ever devoted to his prosperity. The occasion of which extraordinary zeal was certainly either a delight to continue him their Prince, whom their voices first inaugurated King; or a hope by his re-establishment to recover those vast sums of money, his necessities heretofore had borrowed in the City: or else a general affection borne him by the Merchant's wives; who having (according to the uxorious humour of our Nation) a command over their husbands; urged them on to side with that Prince, the beauty of whose personage, not the justice of whose title, moved them.  
But the Earl of Warwick, soon as he had intelligence of the escape, and the fortune which attended it, was distracted with a thousand several imaginations. He had just reason to suspect his brother the Archbishops faith, as corrupted by the King's persuasions: as likewise the weight of his own reputation in the Kingdom, grown lighter, by so evil managing so good a fortune. He condemned the folly of his too much confidence, in having disbanded his Army; and knew the difficulty, if not the impossibility, suddenly to reinforce it. But this was the inward part of him: outwardly he descended nothing from the height of his greatness and resolution. And to secure his former design he directed his letters to all the Lords of his Faction, and advise them to reasemble for the common safety.  
The solicitation of those good men, who heretofore had laboured peace, continued still: and so effectually endeavord, that in fine they brought both parties to agree upon an interview in Westminster Hall. There was interchange of oaths for safety on both sides and nothing but a perfect reunion of friendship generally expected.  
But no sooner was the Earl of Warwick (who came accompanied by the Duke of Clarence) wished to express his desires, but he fell into a bold expostulation of injuries. And his language swelled to such intemperance, so far beyond the limits of that modesty becomes a subjects mouth: that the King full of indignation departed the Hall, and immediately took his journey to Canterbury: on the other side the Earl, wild in his anger, posted to Lincoln: both making preparation for a second interview, when the sword should both dispute and decide the controversy. Who ever persuaded these two great spirits to this meeting, erred grossly in judgement, how zealous soever they were in their intention. For who could possibly imagine but the thunder of war should necessarily follow that storm, which the recapitulation of injuries must beget? since expostulations, (unless there be some apparent mistake or that the one party by evil fortune be bowed to to an over-low submission) may well give a growth to rancour never extirpate it. But experience all enterviws condemns till by Commissioners (who with more patience can argue) all dissensions are reconciled. And most of all against any between a Prince and his subject: since a subject hardly contains his language from insolency, when by the disproportionable greatness of his fortune he is admitted upon even terms to contest with his Sovereign: and a Prince goes down more than one step from Majesty, when he is forced to descend so low, as to hold parley with a Rebel.  
The King understanding that the greatest part of the Earls Forces were under the conduct of Sir Robert Wells, and that by his good discipline they were become expert Soldiers, and had done some service against Sir Thomas Burgh: sent for Richard Lord Wells his Father; that having possession of him, he might either withdraw the Son from Warwick, or at least take off the edge from his violent proceedings. The Lord Wells in obedience to the King's command with his brother in Law Sir Thomas Dimock addressed his journey toward the Court, but having by the way secret notice of the King's high displeasure; and how unsafe his approach would be, secured himself in Sanctuary. But the King resolved upon any terms to get him, granted a general pardon, and received him with promise of all fair usage. Upon which he came forth, and only at his approach to the King's presence, was advised by letters to recall his son from rebellion, and himself to bear a loyal heart. These letters dispatched with as much authority as a father could challenge, he remained in a kind of twilight between favour and ruin, till the messengers return. Who bringing back no answer from the Son in obedience to his father's command, but rather a justification of his enterprise: so far incensed the King, that he presently caused the Lord Wells and Dimock to be beheaded. An act barbarous and unfaithful! For what just grounds soever the King might have to build suspicion on, that Wells did not effectually persuade his son, or that inwardly he wished better to the affairs of Warwick, yet ought he not to have violated his word. And it is a most poor excuse, to say a sudden rage was guilty of this mischief.  
The report of this execution clouded generally the reputation of the King, but in Sir Robert Wells it begot nothing but fury and revenge. And indeed rage so far blinded his judgement, that contrary to all persuasion and sober direction, not attending Warwick's coming who every day was expected; he drew out his Forces, and charged the King's Army. Who received him with equal courage, and (while hope of vengeance transported him too far) enclosed him, and with threescore and seven more, took him prisoner. Upon the place and in the flight were slain of the enemy ten thousand, on the King's side only thirteen hundred. They who escaped, to make their flight the swifter, cast away their coats, which gave to this battle the name of Loose-coate field. The prisoners immediately were executed, Sir Robert Wells having only in his short delay of death the longer liberty to express his hatred against the King and his perfidious cruelty.  
This overthrow forced Warwick to new resolution; for his main Forces by the precipitation of the Commander destroyed, he foresaw that suddenly he could not recover an Army, able to give the King battle, and how open to be surprised the least interim would render him. Whereupon leisurely (for his great Spirit disdained any thing that resembled flight) he retired to Exetor, whence having dismissed the remainder of those troops attended him, he went to Dart-mouth. There with many Ladies and a large retinue he took ship, and directly sailed to Calais. While the King no way laboured either by land or sea, to impeach their journey; either content with the former half victory (for nothing could have made it perfect, but the surprisal or destruction of Warwick) or holding so little intelligence even in a conquered enemies Camp▪ that he knew nothing of his present design: The Earl having tried as strange a vicissitude of fortune, as in so short a space, was ever observed in story; by the benefit of a prosperous gaile soon was brought before Calais Where being Captain of the Town he expected entrance, but the Cannon was presented him; and no Commisseration of the Duchess of Clarence's being in travail, could obtain so much as admittance to her present necessity, only the poor relief of some few flagons of wine, was sent her. Mourifieur de Vaucleere a Knight of Gascoiny Lieutenant of the Town, thus confidently refused his Captain, professing that however he owed his present Command to Warwick's bounty, his loyalty to the King did cancel all inferior obligations. By which bravery of his carriage he won so great reputation with the King and the Duke of Burgundy (who ever hated the factious pride of Warwick, and even from the beginning of these troubles had laboured to continue Vaucleere firm in his allegiance) that from the King he received by Letters Patents the Captainship of Calais in Chief, and from the Duke an annual pension of a thousand Crowns during life. Into thus much honour and profit did dissimulation work him, while under hand by the subtlety of council he steered the Earl of Warwick to safety, and by false appearing fidelity betrayed his Prince. For he ascertained the Earl of his good intentions to his affairs; and howeven now but that he knew it could not but be ruinous to both, he would declare himself. For if the Earl entered the Town he did but imprison his person, to be detained till the King were pleased to command it forth to execution. Considering that the inhabitants were but unsure friends, and the Lord of Duras, the Earl's professed enemy, Marshal of all the Forces in the Town. Moreover the Burgonians territory encompassed Calais by Land, and their fleet was in readiness to block it up by Sea, so that no way would be open to his escape. Wherefore he advised him for his present security and future hopes, presently to address himself to King Lewis of France, who was ever ready to entertain any Lord of another Nation in quarrel with his Prince. But above all would welcome the Earl both in regard of the near intelligence he had long held with him; and the hatred he bore King Edward for affronting the Lady Bona; and the Duke of Burgundy for so often confederating with the rebels of France.  
By this council the Earl of Warwick steered his course to Deep, by the way making prize of whatsoever appertained to the Duke of Burgundy or his subject. And no sooner was he landed there; but most solemnly invited to the Castle of Amboys, where King Lewis then kept his Court. The ceremony (short ever with men of business) passed over at the first meeting; suddenly they entered into council how to renew the war, and restore King Henry. Whose re-establishment in the Kingdom Lewis ever most passionately urged, not in respect of the near alliance, commiseration of his long sufferance, or opinion of his better title; but only because he knew him inferior in courage to King Edward, and therefore the less dangerous neighbour: and probably while any of the house of York remained, civil war likely to keep the English Arms busied at home. Wherefore by his importunity Queen Margaret (who hitherto had lived an exile in France, and now upon the King's invitation came to Court) was perfectly reconciled to the Earl of Warwick. Warwick who before had chased her out of the Land, disinthrond her husband, and opprobriously imprisoned him, cut off the many branches; and almost plucked up the very root of the tree of Lancaster. But necessity took away the sting from nature, and united them in the nearest friendship. For that there might not be left any tract of former discontent or path to future jealousy; a marriage was concluded and celebrated between. Prince Edward the Queen's son, and the Lady Anne younger Daughter to the Earl. And on this marriage was agreed that King Edward should be deposed, King Henry re-inthrond, the Crown to be entailed upon Prince Edward, and for default of his issue, to come to the Duke of Clarence and his posterity. By which conveyance humane policy did her part to perpetuate the succession of the Kingdom in the posterity of Warwick, But the Almighty made a mockery of this Babel, which fell soon to ruin by self division, and confusion, not of Languages but affections. For the Duke of Clarence began now to consider how by following the Earls desperate Counsels; he had gained nothing but the conscience of an unnatural revolt, and how ruin'd he were if the success of this enterprise should not be prosperous; and if prosperous how upon the destruction; of a brother, he had built himself a less greatness, than he might have enjoyed, without sin or hazard. There being a vast distance between the nearness of two sons to one mother, and only husbands to two sisters▪ Neither had he any sure ground for confidence, that when King Henry were restored; hereditary malice might not prevail, and destroy him for the crime of his family. And now more than ever he found himself declined, being forced to submit not only to Warkicke, but to a new young Prince; having before acknowledged no superior but the King and him a brother. Neither was the Duchess of Clarence herself a weak engine, on which this alteration moved. For however as a daughter she might wish prosperity to the attempts of Warwick; yet ever since the last agreement of reinvesting the house of Lancaster in the Kingdom; she found in her mind a strange alicnation from the Faction. And indeed either she began to dislike the variety of her father's resolutions, as whom ambition led violently to build and pluck down: or in conscience thought the justice of the claim was wholly in King Edward, having in her childhood (and those impressions are ever deepest) been instructed to affect the house of York, and approve the title. Or (and that is the most probable in a woman) she envied perhaps the preferment of a younger sister; hating that Fortune should throw back the priority of nature. However it was, yet certainly by her means King Edward laboured to recall his brother, and though not suddenly yet in the end prevailed. For having sent over a gentle woman (her sex took away suspicion from the practice) with full instructions both to advice the Duchess not to work the ruin or at best the lessenning of her husband by those counsels held then between Queen Margaret and the Earl of Warwick, as like wise to promise (if she persuaded her husband) to him and her as much love and greatness as the ●●● of Nature, and so great a merit might justly challedge: He in fine got a promise that, soon as the Duke were disintangled from his present engagements, he would declare the natural affection he owed a brother.  
This weak hope, the late victory and seedling ba●ishment of his enemies, loose●●ed King Edward to his accustomed wantonness and ri●● For certainly never lived Prince whom adversity did more harden to action; and prosperity more soften to volupt●ousnesse: So that by the judgement on his life, we may say, like a stone cast into the air, he was by necessity forced up to glory; while his centre remained beneath in the sense of pleasure: And so improvident was his memory, that he forgot the greatest injuries, and res●●●ed▪ the Archbishop of York into favour, not hearing so much as a watchful eye over a reconciled enemy. By which his counsels were betrayed and he persuaded to a false and most dangerous security.  
But the Duke of Bu●gundy, whose recreation was business, and whose delight, extent of dominion; who by having long wrestled with Lewis the Eleventh, had lea●●t all the slights of war and peace, laboured ●o disper●e the storm before it fell upon England▪ Whel●●●on he daily advertized King Edward of all passages in the Court of France, his intelligence holding good there, and who knew how near danger came to him, should our King be overthrown. He advised him by vast promises (which no way obliged performance) to win some; and ●owing the poisonous ●eede of emulation, to recall others▪ As likewise to send over some great Lord into France, who pretending discontent, shall adhere to the faction, and under hand discover all their counsels. But above all he solicited him to rig up and set forth his Navy whereby to prevent their landing: Affirming it to be a most ridiculous madness in a King (unless urged by inevitable necessity) to stake his Crown at a battle, against the desperation of a rebel.  
The King, contrary to this sober counsel, never endeavoured to hinder the return of Warwick, but building on the protestations of the marquis M●ncatute, and the Archbishop of York securely gave himself over to licentiousness. In which interim, the Earl, with his retinue, conducted by the Bastard of Burb●●, Admiral of France, sailed back into England; King Le●y● having furnished him with a full supply of monies▪ and for shoulders he needed no ●o●taine levies: his name and faction was so great at home. For though the Country by ●ivill war was much dispeopled, yet the commonalty, being for the most borne and bred up in tumults, were naturally addicted to arms, and prone upon any innovations to take the field. Neither could the Duke of Burgundy, though most passionately he laboured it, hinder the Earls landing by giving him battle at Sea: for the winds fought for Warwick and dispersed the Burg●nian fleet (the best in that age commanded upon the Se●) casting some ships upon the coast of Scotland, others upon the re●otest parts of Holland.  
Neither did the King any way repent his error when he understood the Earl was landed, but presently dispatched a messenger to the Duke, entreating him to continue his Army at Sea, to impeach Warwick's flight back into France, as if he were ascertained fortune would never deny him victory. So secure was he grown by an overbold presumption, the bastard daughter of a long prosperity. But they whom experience had instructed to more caution, pitied his mistake and foresaw the ruin. And he himself not long after understanding how mightily the Earl increased in power, began to think his safety brought into hazard. Which he much more believed when he found the Nobility, whom he summoned to his aid, to excuse themselves; and the common stream of people to ebb wholly from his devotion.  
And indeed, even in the City the adverse faction was grown so strong; that Doctor Gooddiard, Chaplain to the Earl, at Paul's Cross in his Sermon dared even to act the Herald, and conclude Edward an usurper. And thereupon to commend the most religious intentions of the Earl, and to exhort the Audience to join with him in restoring their imprisoned Sovereign King Henry to his Sceptre, and the Common wealth to liberty.  
The credulous multitude took this heresy for true doctrine, and with some of the zealous ignorant, it so far prevailed, that in pure devotion they committed high treason. But would to God the Pulpit might only speak things sacred; matters of State having room enough to be discussed in Council Chambers, and other places erected for public assemblies. For certainly how erroneous soever the tenet be, if uttered there by a Priest with appearance of Religion, it gets two much authority in the ear, and too much ground upon the conscience. As this opinion did, which no sooner received, but all began to incline to revolt: and with the first retired away the late reconciled Archbishop and the Matquesse Montacute his brother, both having so often, and so ceremoniously vowed never to forsake the title of King Edward; and both now perfidiously breaking those vows, and with the loudest crying out, Long live King Henry.  
The treachery of Montacute, who having raised in King Edward's name six thousand men turned now with them to Warwick, and the general defection of the Land threw the King down into extreme despair. For those few Lords who constantly adheard to his declining fortune, commanded over so small a number, that to resolve upon a battle were to betray themselves to slaughter: And when misfortune drove their thoughts upon safety by flight, they knew not whether to resolve: No Land being willing to receive that Prince, who is forced to fly his own. But while his imaginations remained thus confused, he had hardly escaped a surprise in the night; had not his former misfortune served him now for instruction. And finding his stay only begot disreputation to his quarrel, and danger to his person, he began his flight towards Lincolnshire. But the Earlesent after him his Light Horse, following with the whole body of his Army; and so close did the Light Horse pursue him, that with much difficulty, and with loss of all his carriages in his passage through the Washeses he reached Linne.  
The Lord Hastings, faithful to the King in all fortunes, and who had yet three thousand Horse under his command, stayed some short time behind: and now when he imagined the King past the reach of imminent danger, he dismissed his Forces and followed after. At parting he commended the faith of the Soldiers to their Prince, which nevertheless for the present he advised them to dissemble. No present security, nor hope of doing after service, but by submission to the prevailing faction. Ere long he promised to return, when a better fortune would invite them to show the loyalty of their affections; the violence of the storm being too mighty to continue, and King Edward in faction at home and abroad too potent, so easily to quit a kingdom; however for the present he withdrew himself a while.  
Having exhorted thus his Soldiers, he obeyed necessity, and by speedy flight went after the King. Who having hired three ships, one of England and two of Holland, presently embarked, having in his company the Duke of Gloucester, the Earl Rivers, the Lords Scales and Say, and in retinue about one thousand. As soon as they were put to Sea, the King encountered dangers great as he had escaped at Land. For the Easterlings (a people ever famed for Sea affairs and then at enmity both with France and England) had set forth not long before some men of war: Who having descrted these ships and guessing them to be English, made sail after them. The King by benefit of the wind got first to the coast of Holland, and in regard it was ebbing water cast Anchor so near the shore, the Easterlings (being ships of far greater burden could not reach them:) But the next tide infallibly had exposed them a prize to the enemy, had not the Lord Gronteere, Lieutenant for the Duke in Holland by mere accident been at that time at Alquemare, a Sea town close joining to them. He▪ soon as he understood that those three small vessels carried in them the fortune of England, commanded the Easterlings to forbear hostility, and licence those passengers a quiet landing. And presently himself came aboard the King's ship, expressing in the obsequiousness of his respects as much ceremony and love, as was due to so great a Majesty, and the brother in law to his Prince. And no sooner had he attended the King ashore, and found how unprovided of all things necessary, the suddenness of his flight had made him and his followers; but he furnished him and them according to their quality and want. For the King's escape was so hasty that not only his apparel and other furniture were lost or left behind, but even his treasure: So that to defray the charge of his transportation he was necessitated to give the Master of the ship a Gown furred with Martin's: And remain beholding to the Lord Gronteere for his expenses to the H●ge, whether he was conducted to expect the coming of the Duke. Who soon as he had perfect knowledge of the Kings so ruinous success in England, and arrived in Holland as to a Sanctuary, began to repent his so near alhance, and cast about how to close with the adverse faction. And now indeed his time was to act the most cunning part of subtlety, by endeavouring to retain the good opinion of his brother in Law, and yet secure himself from hostility with the Earl of Warwick. Whereupon before ever he came to the Hage he dispatched his Agent to Calais, to show the chief of the town, that the peace heretofore concluded between King Edward and himself, was no way personal: But between whatsoever Princes should rule in either dominions, and betwixt nation and nation: and therefore by no change of King or length of time dissolvable. Upon which consideration he entreated (for loath he was at the same time, to wrestle both with France and England) that the name of Edward might be changed into Henry, and the former league continue sacred as before.  
The unsettled state of England and the universal desires of the Merchants of the S●aple at Calais soon affected the Duke's purpose. For they who had continual traffic into the Low Countries, and vented all their wool to the subjects of the Duke, had been unabled to pay their usual tribute to the King, if free intercourse had been denied. Whereupon unwilling to discontent and impoverish so great a body at home, and too hastily to run into a dangerous quarrel with a most potent enemy abroad, the Earl for the present dissembled his inveterate hatred, and recalled his Soldiers who had spoilt all the Duke's territory bordering upon Calais. And that the Duke might make himself strong in a faction potent with the present time, he renewed his friendship with the Dukes of Somerset and Exeter; whom he solicited earnestly to endear him to King Henry, and revive in him the memory of their so near kindred. To acquaint him how zealous himself and his father had ever been for the honour and safety of the family of Lancaster, in which himself did so much participate. As likewise to promise all the perfect offices of a confederate and neighbour, if so be that his faithful intentions might receive a true interpretation.  
This did the Dukes voluntarily offer to negotiate; Somerset in respect of propinquity in blood, Exeter of those many favours received in the Low Countries during his so miserable exile: Both out of an extreme malice to the Earl of Warwick, who had subverted their families; and to whose aid, they envied the King should owe his restitution. And easily was the Duke brought upon good terms with King Henry; his neighberhood and friendship being of so notable consequence, and the very appearance of disclaiming the adverse party (what secret aid soever he afforded) being so disadvantageous to any pretence King Edward might have to renew the war.  
This aspect, full of a smiling flattery, did the Duke of Burgundy bear to the present fortune of the state. While upon King Edward he cast such a supercilious look, as the world's wise men usually do upon men in adversity. Often sharply he reprehended his so great carelessness, and neglect of wholesome advice, which had ruined him to this so wretched flight. He objected the much contempt this misfortune would throw upon his quarrel, and how loath friends would be to adhere to his present necessities, since he knew so ill to manage profperitie. Yet remembering that hereafter there might happily be a change in fortune, he often changed his humour, and amid these reprehensions mingled some passionate compliments of love. He protested seriously that he wished all happiness to his affairs; to advance which he would neglect no industry: yet he desired his pardon if for the present he dissembled. Considering it might at once draw on a war from his two most dangerous neighbours, England and France: Against both which nations should he be necessitated to a quarrel, he should be very unable to defend himself; much less to serve another. And when a Proclamation was set forth by the Duke prohibiting his subjects any way to aid the pretences of King Edward or his faction, and that it was with much indignation received by the King: he protested the intention of it to be only to betray King Henry to an unsafe security, that in the interim he might without suspicion levy a greater aid for his designs. King Edward (whom a short adversity had already instructed much) appeared to take the false coin of these excuses for currant, and by example of the Duke practised to dissemble. But after this time it was noted that he never bore the Duke so sincere affection as before. Prince's best maintaining a near friendship, by keeping at large distance: jealousy and emulation take their growth with familiarity; and if either be necessitated to demand supply, reason of state oftentimes weakens love, and roots up good nature  
To increase King Edward's discontent abroad, no news came from England but what spoke absolute ruin to his hopes. For though here he heard first the comfort of his being father to a son, yet was this son borne poorly in Sanctuary, and christened without the ceremonies belonging to a Prince, and if fortune beyond expectation altered not, heir apparent only to his father's misery. Neither did that wild insurrection of the men of Kent, which ensued presently upon his flight effect any thing, or so much as openly pretend for King Edward. But some disordered companies gathering into one, hoped to fish fair in the troubled stream of the Kingdom, and by the advantage of the present distraction of state to purchase treasure to themselves. Whereupon they directed their march (if such stragglers can be said to march) towards London; where by the Earl of Warwick and the Lord Major they were soon suppressed, and some for the general terror, made examples in their punishment. But after this all things tended presently to quiet, and King Henry set at liberty went in solemn procession to Paul's Church, the Clergy, Nobility, and Commonalty reacknowledging all obedience to him. And, as if there were left no memory of King Edward or hope to re-establish his title, every man addressed himself to King Henry, and all his former servants recovered their lost honours and places. But that this might not appear to be the act of faction, but the universal consent of the Kingdom, a Parliament was summoned: wherein nothing was denied, which the prevailing party thought fit to be authorised.  
King Edward therefore and all his adherents were attainted of high treason, their lands and goods confiscated. He and his posterity for ever disabled to inherit not only the Crown, but any other hereditary estate; His claim to the kingdom rejected as a most unjust pretention, and his former government condemned as of tyrannous usurper. And that there might be a great example of their justice, John Tiptoft Earl of Worcester, Lord high Constable of, England (having been apprehended in the Forest of Waibrige on the top of a high tree▪ which expressed the precipice of his fortune) was on the Tower bill beheaded.  
Next they proceeded to entail the Crown upon King Henry and his beires males, for default of which to George Duke of Clarence and his heirs forever. By which in●●ile the ●arle of Warwick showed not only the extent but the insolency of his greatness i●●● if the title of the kingdom appertained to them who were nearest in alliance to him, not next in blood to the Crown. For if the justice of Lancaster's claim had the pre-eminence for w●●t of issue of King Henry, why should not the sovereignty fall to the Duke of So●●●iner●set? Or i●●ha● line were crooked in respect of ba●●idie, why not to the house of Portugal; without any blemish descending from John of G●int? Or if the house of York bade the better title, why was George Duke of Clarence th●● set down but second in the li●●●ile: Or if the right were in Was wick himself (for his power ordered and disordered all) why was the kingdom to descend first of all to the younger daughter? But preposterous ambition never knew how to give: an account to reason.  
Their were ●he ●●●le● of Oxford P●●brooke, and m●●y other● restored to their estates and ●il●s, and ●he Duke of Clarence (that greater hopes ●●ight ●●● invite him to re●●●●st to his brother) possessed of the Duchy of York.  
And lastly, the government of the King and kingdom ●o ●●mitted to the Duke of Clarence and the Earl of Warwick: so that King Henry (in whose best of fortune it was never to possess more than the name of King) seemed not to be set at liberty, but only to have changed his keeper, and get his prison somewhat more enlarged. But Queen Margaret and Prince Edward, though by the Earl recalled, found their fate an● the winds so adverse, that they could not land in England, & to taste this running banquet to which fortune had inuted them. And stayed so long by necessity; that dis●●●tion instructed them, in the end there was no hope of felicity, scarce of safety in then return.  
The re-establishment of King Henry in the kingdom by the universal acclamation of the Parliament, and the general silence of ●●● other ●●●●ion ● no man so much as mentio●●●●●●●●●● of York to ●●led ●h●● fervour of respect with which the Duke of Burgundy had a●●●●st embraced ●●●●g Edward. Especially which the t●●ison'd ●● Mou●si●ur ●●itleere was apparens for of ●●●ice●●●● ●●●● the King and the Duke ever thought themselves secure; he having declared himself ●● for faithfully, they rewarded him so liberally, But ●ow the ●●aytor turned his i●●●●● outward, and with the loudest proclay ●●●●●●● joy for the prosperity of Warwick: And so far did vanity of his former services betray him, that he boasted even hi● treason for merit. And what ev 〈…〉 age● the King sent to him, he rejected with s●●●●e to ●●●●se 〈…〉 ne ●●iable affront▪ he wore enamelled i●● his● h●● the Bear and raggery staff, the Earl's ●●●●●zance.  
The neglect which accompanied his adversity made the King wea●y of any quither dependencies, and urge the Duke to have licence for departing. For although the Duchess neglected no duty of a sister, and wooed him most passionately to a longer stay; yet so little had his fortune instructed him to patience, that neither love nor fright of danger could detain him longer. For the Duke was distempered with such an ague of discourtesy, that those fits which before came but every third or fourth day, became now quotidian, neither knew the King to how high and dangerous a malice the disease in time might rise. His importunity therefore in the end prevailed, and underhand obtained a large supply of money, and some men. Four great Ships of Holland, and fourteen of the Easterlings men of war well armed, he hired for the transportation of his Forces: Which consisted of the English who accompanied him in his flight and had escaped over after him, and two thousand Dutch men. With the Ships he convenanted, that they should serve him till fifteen days after his landing; and to the Dutch Soldiers he gave such large promises, that they vowed their lives to the greatest cruelty of his Fortune.  
At Ravenspur in Yorkshire he landed, where the people naturally devoted to the house of Lancaster (showed in the malice of their looks, what evil luck they wished him) though they wanted courage with their arms to oppose him.  
Which so dismal aspect made him more wary in his march to York, fearing it might presage the general rising of the Country. But when he came thither and found the Citizens so well pleased with the present state, and so in their opinion confirmed for King Henry, he began to despair the recovery of the Crown. And in that resolution perceiving them obstinate beyond any hope of remove, fashioned his behaviour to a new art. Whereupon since he could not move them to obedience by the authority of his unquestioned right to the Crown; by relation of his present calamity, he persuaded them to compassion. So that whom they refused to serve as King, which had been an act of loyalty; they condescended to aid as Duke of York, which was absolute rebellion. It being high treason in a Subject, though never so apparently injured, to seek his remedy by arms. And by the sense of his own misfortunes, he made his Oratory so powerful, that all began to exclaim against the injustice of the last Parliament in conferring the Duchy of York, which by right of primogeniture belonged to Edward, upon his second Brother George, Duke of Clarence. Which Act could not be imagined, freely granted by the Parliament, but extorted by the overgreat sway of Warwick: And had Edward by usurpation of the Crown, deserved so heavy an attainder; He might yet quit himself from the crime, having been incensed thereunto not by his own ambitious desire of reign, but by the instigation of Warwick. Who no longer would suffer the government of his King, than the King knew how to obey his insolent direction. And who had thus planted and supplanted Princes, not out of love to justice, but only thereby to transplant the Sovereignty into his own Family.  
Thus the Commonalty argued for Edward, and made him yet partake in the fortune of a Prince, by not permitting him to bear the burden of his own faults and that he might recover the ●●●tchy belonging to his family many persons of power and name resorted to him, be solemnly swearing never to attempt hereafter the reobtaining of the kingdom. The same oath swore Henry of Bullingbrooke when pretending to the Duchy of Lancaster he landed in the North & armed against King Richard, which he broke as Edward after did upon the like advantage. So that with humility we ought to wonder at the judgements of the Almighty, who permitted perjury now to unbuild the greatnesse of Lancaster, which at first was built by perjury.  
Leaving therefore a Garrison in York (a safe retreat upon the worst occasion) he marched toward ●●●do●● about which place he had ever found his fortune most benign. And confidently led on his Forces (which could not deserve the name of Army) although the Marque●●e Montague with a far superior power lay then ●● Po●●fret to impeach his journey. Nigh which when King Edward came expecting battle; Montague who had both ability and opportunity to have destroyed him, let him quietly pass, not permitting any act of hostility to be showed, or advantage taken.  
This gross oversight in so absolute a command received several interpretations, according to the complexion of the men discoursed it. The more Religious who favoured King Edward's title thought Almighty God, intending to set the Crown upon the right head, had infatuated the counsels of his enemies: The more vulgar judged it cowardice in the marquis which durst not fight against that Majesty for which he had so often ●ought, and against a Prince who ha● never been in ●a●taile but victoriou●li But the ●●●●● in different esteemed it a piece of over cunning (which in the event i● ever folly) to let his forces pass, whereby after he might enclose him ●●●●●●●●●●●●● and his brother's army, and so without ●●●●●●● destroy him, or else son●e intelligence which ●●●ore ●●●●● held with King Edward●o ●o who●● love and be●ef●●●●● owed so much. Whence this alestake proceeded, I will not dispute, but certainly it served well to the King's purpose had safety and received ●omd● the Earl of Warwick and his faction no other name then of falsehood and trea●●on.  
King Edward was no sooner passed this danger but at any of the Nobility with mighty 〈◊〉 re●●●●●● to him ●●her des●o●●● of another 〈◊〉 on of ●thro● 〈◊〉 having found their expectation dri●●●●●●●●● 〈◊〉: ●● directed by their better A●g●ll to 〈◊〉 to that side which ever ●● as ●o●●● just and suddenly, more likely to be 〈◊〉 ●orto●●●e. But before they would solemnly declare themselves, they entreated and soon prewailed with him to cast off the poor intention to a Duchy, and lay his challenge to, what was his inheritance, the kingdom. For it would lessen, even to contempt, the great reputation of his birth and 〈◊〉 victories; to let the people perceive that a short eclipse of fortune had made him fall so low, as to depose himself from the Roy●loie. Neither could they justify their taking arms to settled subject in his inheritance. Since the Law is open to and such controversies, and if he would subject himself to the Law, the last Parliament, ●●●● forever disabled him from any such claim.  
Weaker arguments would have been of power enough to have persuaded his great Spirit: but by these he was confirmed in his own thoughts: and with the title of King, and a ●●● Arm ●archt directly to Coventry, fier●e in his desire to give Warwick battle, who lay there encamps. But no provocation could bring him from his ●renches, knowing his Army divided, and those forces he had there undeo his command, unequal to maintain fight with the King. For the marquis Mountagae was not yet returned from the North: and the Duke of Clarence, though often and earnestly solicited excused himself, and kept his power apart. So reserved way in them, made Warwick begin to hold both in suspicion, but most of all Clarence, whose Forces were so near and in so good order, that there could be no excuse but in the unpreparedness of his mind.  
The King therefore perceiving no thing could force Warwick upon uneven terms to fight, marched against Clarence, and soon as he drew near, both Armies prepared for the encounter. But as a plot in a well contrived Comedy is so cunningly wrought that it discovers not itself till the last Scene, and then expectation acknowledged herself deluded by invention. So this reconciliation between the brothers agreed on long before, on the sudden now broke forth when all outward apparences threatened hostility. For the Duke of Gloucester and other Lords seeming to abhor the inhuman nature of the prepared battle, passed often formally between the brothers, and urged them by all respects both religious and politic to prevent a quarrel so ruinous and so scandalous to both: wherein the triumph could not be but almost destruction to the Conqueror. After much mediation and much seeming relectation, that was in the end concluded, which had long before been resolved on. And the Duke of Clarence submitting himself to King Edward, brought with him all those forces which upon Warwick's reputation, much more than upon his own, he had raised. But that in this agreement he might not appear to forget the office of a son in Law and a friend, he jointly with the King sent to entreat the Earl to enter league with them; for confirmation of that title which himself had first defended; and to avoid the effusion of so much blood as this quarrel must necessarily draw. For conditions he himself should set down his own; knowing he would be so rational in his demands, as to require nothing above the decorum of a subject to ask, or a Prince to grant.  
But Warwick had a spirit too stubborn to bow down to any conditions, which himself had not been the first proposer of: and as an injury threw back all offers of courtesy. And now too late he began to curse the error of his indulgency; which had added power to these brothers only for his own destruction. From Edward he could expect no safety, for he deserved it not; having cancelled all former obligations by his last revolt, by which he forced him to so hazardous a flight, and from George he could not look for a true faith, considering for the only appearance of better hopes he had heretofore broke it even with a brother. And from both what thought of perfect friendship, unless (and that his nature could never suffer) he would fall beneath his former height; in which should he continue, suspicion would never let him remain secure from danger. That subject scarce never having been reputed innocent, in whose power it was to be nocent.  
Whereupon King Edward, by all the charms of former friendship and promise of future, unable to lay the spirit that raged in Warwick; left him obstinate in the prosecution of his own designs: And accompanied with his late reconciled brother and followed by a gallant Army marched to London. Where the Citizens out of conscience of their late oath taken so solemnly to King Henry, made some show of resistance: but soon the care of their own safety absolved them from that scruple, instructing them that oaths by fear retorted lay no obligation upon the soul. And with much alacrity they yielded up their City together with the person of King Henry, reserved still to be made the sport of fortune. For certainly history shows us not an example of any Prince, who in so many vicissitudes, never met with one fully to his advantage. So that justly we might have condemned him for unhappy, had he not been endued with such a piety as raised him above his fortune, and united him to God.  
At his entrance into the City as general applause entertained King Edward, all those inhabitants who had covertly wished happy success to his affairs, now openly expressing their triumph; The Queen and those many of the King's nearest followers, who for the space of six months had secured themselves in Sanctuary, running forth to congratulate their own, in his restitution. And even in this general alacrity concurd the vows of many Merchants, natives and foreigners, who before had hated him and supplied King Henry with money to his destruction. For the King out of the easiness of his natural disposition, and a desire that at this universal triumph there should not be a sad look so much as among his enemies, gave their offences a general pardon. Only letting them understand that he knew both the value of his own mercy and of the greatness of their forfeitures, their aiding the contrary faction having lost them their estates and liberties, and in rigour their lives. Neither was this an unhappy policy in him, to oblige many by the forgiving that, the extremity of which had he taken (his business being then so unsettled) might have endangered a mutiny in the City, upon the first approach of the enemy.  
Having therefore by his happy fortune comforted his friends and by his clemency won upon the affection of the rest; and so settled the Town to his obedience, that he suspected no danger at his back: he led forth his Army to oppose the Earl of Warwick, who having reunited his scattered forces by easy marches was come to Saint A●ban. The reason of bringing his power so near London was a confidence he had, his reputation among the inhabitants would draw many to his part, or at least so divide them that they should be no advantage to the King. But the King jealous of their levity, as who had known them (how affectionate soever they profitted themselves to his fortune) siding still with the prevailer, interposed his Army between the City and the enemy: whereby he cut off even the possibility of intelligence. And that the presence of King Henry might not be the occasion of any tumul● in London, nor his escape add such 〈◊〉 Warwick's quarrel, o● hereafter ●● danger a f●●●●er war, he ●● o●● hi● to the battle▪ Where by the poor dis●●●st King, what side so ●●e prevai●●●▪ was mo●●lly certain of destruction.  
Upon a Plai●● near ●●rner 〈◊〉 way between London and Sai●● Alban the King pitched his field. The 〈◊〉 commanded by the Duke of Gloucester, the Rear by the Lord 〈◊〉, ●he main battle by himself. To the common Soldier heeded no encouragement of words, the great examples of their Leaders was the best Oratory. And no●e of them but understood their lives, estates, and liberties, at ●he ●take: Their ●●inc● if overthrown, every day ●o●●●lilo● to produce new troubles, and new dangers; 〈◊〉, a full 〈◊〉 of this war, with 〈◊〉 and triumph▪  
On the other side the Earl of Warwick with as bol● 〈…〉. The right Wing which consisted of Horse, he committed to the Earl of Oxford, in whose company ●ought the marquis Montague: The le●● to the Duke of Exeter; and the main ●ar●●●l● which was composed of Bills and Bows (the best sin●●es of o●● English strength) to the Duke of Somerset▪ He himself giving direction in every quarter. And when he had 〈◊〉 his whole host, and liked both their order and their courage, he 〈◊〉 away his Horse, resolving to fig●● o● foot▪ and that day to try the u●most of his fortune; pref●●i●g 〈◊〉 his imaginations no mean between victory and death. Then be lovingly in beard ●● those great Commanders, in every of wh●● appearid a ●●solution equal to the cause▪ And having by 〈◊〉 protestations declared their sincere faith and forwardness to the present service, every man betook himself to his several charge. Nothing extraordinary to be● observed in ordering the field on either side, but that neither George Duke of Clarence, nor the marquis Montague commanded any way in chief that day: So impossible it was to extirpate that suspicion, which by their fo●mer actions had take● root in their brother's minds.  
It was Faster day in the morning (a day too sacred to be profaned with so much blood) when both Armies addressed themselves to fight. That for the King took courage from the justice of their quarrel, and the fortune of their Prince. That of the Earl from the long experience and noble valour of their Leader, and from the piety of him for whose redemption that day they had brought their lives to the hazard. Both fought for their Kings, both Kings having been crown▪ d, and by several Parliaments acknowledged And indeed the question was so subtle, that even among Divines it had held long, and at that day remained not absolutely decided. No marvel then if the common soldier had on both sides the same assurance of truth, since if they have any, their faith for the most is led by the direction of their General. Both Armies therefore had equal justice, which made them with equal fierceness begin and continue the fight.  
Six hours the victory was doubtful; advantages and disadvantages indifferent on both sides: ●ill at length error brought disorder to Warwick's Army, and that a final overthrow. For the Earl of Oxford giving his men a star with streams for his device begot in the Army a mistake that they were part of the enemy whose badge was the Sun: and which mistake might easily happen by the thick mist that morning; wherefore being in the right wing, and pressing forward they were thought King Edward's men flying, which made their own main battle fall fiercely on them in the back. Whereupon Oxford suspecting treason in Warwick (whose haughty and reserved ways were ever liable to suspicion) fled away with eight hundred men, and King Edward with certain fresh troops of Rutters for some such purpose reserved, perceiving disorder in the enemy violently assaulted them, and soon forced them to shrink back. Warwick opposed against their fear both with language and example; but when nothing could prevail, he rushed into the thickest of the enemies; hoping either his whole Army would bravely follow, or otherwise by death to prevent the misery of seeing himself overthrown. Montague perceiving how far into danger his brother was engaged, ran violently after to his rescue, and both presently oppressed with number fell, and with them the spirit of the Army. In their deaths they both cleared those calumnies with which they were blemished. Warwick of having still a swift horse in readiness by flight to escape from any apparent danger in battle: Montague of holding intelligence with King Edward, or betraying at Pomfret the quarrel of his great brother. For it is to be rejected as a fable forged by malice, that history which reports the marquis having put on King Edward's livery, slain by one of Warwick's men, and the Earl labouring to escape, at a Woods side where was no passage, killed and spoilt to the naked skin by two of King Edward's soldiers. Yet both of them in their deaths partaking with the common condition of men; the poor being ever esteemed as vicious, the overthrown as cowards. By which judgement we impiously subject the Almighty disposer of humane business to our depraved affections, as if felicity or in felicity were the touchstone by which we might discern the true value of the inward man.  
King Edward soon as he saw the discomfiture of the enemy and certainly understood the death of the two brothers: that himself might be the first reporter of his own fortune, with King Henry in his company posted up to London. He came into Saint Paul's Church at even Song, and there offered up his own banner, and the standard of the Earl of Warwick; the trophies of his morning service: where waited on him an universal acclamation, the flattering shadow which never forsakes victory.  
To the Duke of Clarence and the Duke of Gloucester was left the care to quarter the Soldiers: whose enquiry soon found that on both sides that day were slain four thousand six hundred and odle. On the King's side of eminency only the Lords Burcher and Barnes, he son and heir to the Earl of Essex, this to the Lord Say: On the other side were killed the Earl of Warwick and the marquis Montague attended with three and twenty Knights. The Duke of Exeter, who by his many wounds was reported dead, recovered life: but was never more seen in action; his body after some length of time being cast upon the shore of Kent; as if he had perished by shipwreck: the manner of his after life and death left uncertain in story.  
To this violent end came the Earl of Warwick, the greatest and busiest subject our later age hath brought forth. And indeed how was it possible such a stormy life, could expect a calmer death? In his Spirit, birth, marriage, and revenue he was mighty: which raised his thoughts above proportion. For all these benefits of nature and fortune served him only as instruments to execute his rage; into which every small displeasure taken or mistaken from his Prince, threw him headlong. His bounty extended itself most in hospitality, which was dangerous to the guest, for his meat was infected with the poison of Faction. The open aim of all his actions was at the Public good, which made his power still recover strength, though so often weakened by evil Fortune: but his secret intention was to advance his own greatness, which he resolved to purchase though with sale of the public safety. He was questionless valiant, for a coward durst not have thought those dangers, into which he entered upon the slightest quarrels. His soul was never quiet, distasted still with the present: and his pride like a foolish builder, so delighted to pull down and set up, that at length part of the ●rame himself had raised, fell upon him and crushed him to death. He was a passionate extoller of continency in a Prince, which proceeded rather from spleen than zeal: because in that he tacitly made the King contemptible for his voluptuous life. Being bred up from a child in Arms (the worst school to learn Religion in) he had certainly no tender sense of justice: and his varying so in approving contrary titles, showed either a strange levity in judgement, or else that ambition not conscience ruled his actions. The pretences of his revolt from King Edward, were neither to the world politic nor to himself honest. For what greater hopes could he conceive by restoring a family himself had ruind? since injuries make so deep an impression, that no after courtesy can take it away? Or how could any violence offered to his Daughter's honour by the King (for that was then by him pretended) licence him to war? since no injustice in a Sovereign can authorise the subject to Rebellion. But who will give a true account of his latter attempts, must look back upon his first familiarity with Lewis the eleventh. For never had France such a Merchant to vent discord in foreign Kingdoms, and buy up the faith of all the greatest Officers to neighbouring Princes. But when by the most powerful engines of policy and war, he had screwed up his intentions to the highest, by making himself King in Authority though not in title, the Crown being entailed upon the two Princes, who had married his Daughters: Almighty God in one overthrow ruined him, and permitted his Sons in Law, with their wives not long after to end by strange deaths, none of them answering his hope, but the younger Daughter and that preposterously to his design. For she indeed by marrying Richard Duke of Gloucester, the butcher of her husband Prince Edward, became Queen to an Usurper; and soon after by poison (as it was justly suspected) made resignation of her Crown. His grandchildren by Clarence, who arrived to any age, died by the Axe upon a Scaffold; and all that greatness he so violently laboured to confirm in his posterity, by violent deaths was reduced to nothing: The large River of his blood divided now into many streams, some so small, they are hardly observed as they flow by.  
Of his brother the marquis Montague little can be clearly spoken: so reserved were his imaginations and so obscure his ways: especially to us who look on him so far off, and with so imperfect a light. Neither of himself can he afford much to story, having never been but second in any business of moment: and like some poor gamester seldom or never played his own Cards. He had certainly as much valour and dissimulation, as rendered him both a perfect Soldier and Courtier. He never miscarried in any battle, till the last, in which he perished: so that indifferently we may ascribe to his good conduct and fortune, the prosperity of his success: His affections being divided between a King and a brother, made him suffer that misfortune that ever attends neutrality: Though indeed he may be rather said to have been for both, than neither. His nature was nothing so stubborn as his brothers; which perhaps was bended to plausibility, by the dependences of his fortune. The comportment of men s●ldome swelling to a distasteful pride, unless from the very cradle flattered with respect, without the competition of an equal. He abhorred peace, whose strict rules circumscribed him within the narrow limits of his own revenue: and loved war which called not his expenses to account; and equalled, if not elevated him above those great men, whom he must have envied in a quiet s●ate. In a word, the dispositions of these two Brothers are b●st discovered to us by the King himself▪ of whom Warwick was still either esteemed or hated, Montague loved, or pitied.  
The affection which King Edward bore● Montague, during life, appeared by the good language he always used of him, even when in Arms against him, which perhaps occasioned some jealousy of his faith in Warwick▪ And after death in permitting his and for his sake, his brother's body the honour of a convenient burial. For after they had both lain two or three days barefaced in St▪ P●uls Church, exposed a spectacle obnoctious to such passions, as the beholders were inclined to either by Nature or Faction: they were carried down to the Priory of Bisham: Where among their Ancestors by the mother's side Earls of Salisbury, the two unquiet brothers rest in one Tomb.  
Queen Margaret now when it was too late Landed ●● Waimouth, having in her retinue some few French Forces, the wary King Lewis loath to venture much upon an after game of fortune. And here when she expected the acclamations of triumph, she first received the news of Warwick slain and his Army defeated. Which to her mind, prepared then to have some taste of happiness, was so sad a distraction, that she knew not which way to direct her resolutions. At length desperation forced her to the common poor refuge of Sanctuary. And in Bewlye in Hampshire, a monastery of Cist●rcian Monks she registered herself, her son, and followers for persons privileged. To her in this ago nigh of soul came Edmond Duke of Somerset (who had escaped from the overthrow at Barnet) with his brother the Lord John Bewfort, john Courtney Earl of Devonshire (brother to Thomas who taken at Towt●n field was beheaded at York) jasper Earl of P●mbrooke, younger son of Owen T●uther by Queen Katherine Dowager, John Longs●●other Lord Prior of St. john's, and John Lord Wenlocke who had received his first advancement to honour by his great Services to King Edwa●d, and ●ow by the folly of his ingratitude, had betray ● himself to a ruinous Faction.  
These Noble personages greater far in the reputation of what they had, or might have been, than in their present power, laboured what they could by their comfort and presence to raise up the Queen, sunk with the weight of her misfortunes. They related to her the hopes she yet might retain in the amity with France, and authority she had in England: multitudes yet surviving, whom if not affection to the title, desperation of their own fortunes, and safety of their persons, would necessitate to take arms. All overthrows rather sowing, then taking away the seeds of war. Neither if she looked in differently upon the last battle, had she reason to be disconsolate. For if she reflected on the number of the slain, it was not considerable; Or upon the death of the General the Earl of Warwick: She might receive that loss as a benefit. He having been indeed a cruel enemy; but never but an insolent friend: Whose fortune had it continued prosperous as it began, it might have been a question whether the ●arle of Marches or his ●surpation would have been the more insupportable. They urged farther the authority Somerset; Devonshire, the Lord Prior, and Wenlooke had in England, and the multitudes Pembroke might arm in Wales. But above all, what a confluence of the boldest youth would be to the Prince, would he but take the field, and appear in his own quarrel. Nothing having advanced the title of York, but Marches presence in all battles: or ●o●●d the reputation of Laucaster, but King Henry's unactive piety, and fight still by Deputies. The Soldier thinking it desperation for them to hazard their lives, where the Prince, whom it concerns, timerously refuseth to stake his own.  
But all these arguments exemplified by the most persuasive Oratory, could not recover the sad Queen to a perfect life in her spirit. For either so many disasters, and falling so thick together, made her despair success: Or else the soul before a great mischief hath a certain divining knowledge of future accidents. And now she began to think that small time her husband had been re-invested in the Kingdom, was but a lightning before the death of all loveraignety in his Family. Yet when she looked upon the Prince, hope flattered her desires, that he might hereafter revive the greatness of his blood: but then the memory of forepast misfortunes, made her a melancholy Prophetess of future r●ine. Howsoever the objects of her thoughts were dismal, she dissembled them, and was as busy in all politic contrivances, and as forward in setting forth the army as the most resolute Commander. But when she perceived the Lords earnest to have the Prince present in the battle; she violently opposed. ●n respect of his youth, want of experience, and the so mighty venture. For if he perished in this storm, even hope itself would in him be shipwrecked. She therefore urged earnestly to have him reconvaied into France, where in safety he might attend the success of the present enterprise: which if unprosperous, he might there r●maine, till by the increase of years and power, he might be enabled to fight his own quarrel. But the contrary opinion overruled in her all the passions, both of a woman, and a Mother; and h●ving already lost so much at this play of fortune, she was persuaded like a desperate ga●●●●●er, to ha●●rd at one cast the remainder of all her stock.  
Having therefore yielded to this resolution, she leaves the Sanctuary and pu●s herself in arms: The very name of Prince Edward, like an adamant, attracted multitudes to the war. Her companies immediately▪ s●ee advanced to Both, where the Duke of Somerset, and the ●arle of De●vonshire were high in reputation; and by whose Authority daily new for●es came into the Prince's service. Yet were they not grown to so full a number, as might encourage the Queen to think upon a battle. Whereupon she keep●s herself in the Town, until the coming of Jasp●● Earl of Pembroke, upon the addition of which Wel●h Forces, she resolved to take the field, and encounter King Edward.  
Who soon as he had perfect intelligence of her resolutions, gathered his army together, which he (ever too confident of peace, so amorously cou●ted by him) had after the victory at Dar●●●, licenced to disperse itself. And with so unexpected suddenness he made his preparations, that before the return of Pembroke, he encamped at Mar●eborough, within fifteen miles of Bath: and by the interposition of his Army, hindered all su●●●urs could come to the enemy from Wales. Which so near approach distracted the resolutions of the Queen, and made her suspect her safety, if she remained longer there▪ Wherefore the retired to Bristol, from whence she sent to the Lord B●uchampe, of ●o●y●●, who had the keeping both of the City and Castle of Gloucester, to desire passage over ●●●●●ne there 〈◊〉 ●●●●ed, her, and ●or●ed her to ●●●●● up ●o ●●●●●●ry, there to endeavour to cross the 〈◊〉.  
In her way ●●●ther, as she passed by Gloucester, which in 〈◊〉 she dared ●●●●● assault, though by the former 〈◊〉 provoked: he taking advantage of the place and some disorder in the Queen's Rearward, fell suddenly upon it and carried away, after some slaughter of the uncircumspect Soldier, much of her Artillery. This loss troubled her a little, but when she found herself pursued by King Edward so close, that before she could reach T●wxbury▪ he wi●● his Horsewere in sight; desperation ●●●●●d her, so that she began only to look which way to fly▪ And indeed to that extremity was her business reduced, that there was left no no other hope of safety: The King having so much odds in courage and number. But the Duke of Somerset prevailed against her fears, and the sober opinion of most of the best Commanders▪ Upon which neglecting to scape at first into ●●●●●, where Pe●brooke had raised mighty Forces for her service; She was soon by the King necessitated, either to yield or endure the battle. Whereupon she resolved to fight it out ●hat day which was the last, and that which decided the great quarrel between the two houses.  
The Duke of Summer set 〈◊〉 field in a Park ad●oy●ing to the Town▪ and 〈◊〉 this Camp round so high and so strong that the enemy could on no side force it; ●●●● when he perceived an inevitable necessity of present fight, he Marshaled his host for the service. The Forward he and his brother commanded, the Earl of Devonshire the Rer●. In the main Battle was the Prince, under the direction of the Lord Prior, and the Lord Wenlocke. The Queen seeing the hour draw near and that there was need the Soldier should have advantage of valour to equal the enemy, who bade it in multitude; took the Prince with her and ●ode about the army. In her look appeared nothing but life and resolution, in her language almost an assurance of victory; So cunningly she concealed the wound her despair had given her, that then only it bled inward. She told them, that it rested in their courage that day to restore their imprisoned King to liberty and his Crown; and themselves not to safety only, but to honour and treasure. For the wealth of the rebellious Cities should be their spoil, the Kingdom their inheritance to be divided only among them, and all those titles the enemies so proudly wore, to be conferred upon their deserts. If the inequality of number frighted them; she showed it was not such, but that they might be confident their great hearts animated by the justice of the cause, would easily take away the disparity. Then she wished them to look upon the Prince (whose personage the fond Mother thought, would make them like desperate lovers contemn danger) and fight for him their fellow Soldier, with whom they were to share in fortune, and who once in possession of the Throne, would never forget them, by whose courage he was seated there.  
The Soldier generally appeared resolved against the sharpest danger, receiving her words with much alacrity: And soon as the Signal was given bravely repulsed the Duke of Gloucester, who having the leading of King Edward's vanguard, had assaulted the Queens Campe. Upon which repulse, the Duke of Somerset seeing Gloucester retire with some appearance of flight (an appearance indeed it was only to betray the enemy) ran after ●o far in the pursuit, that there was no safety in the retreat. Then did Gloucester on the sudden turn back upon him, and having by this deceit enticed him from his trenches, he cut all the vanguard in pieces. The Lord Wenlock who had the conduct of the main battle and whom it concerned to have relieved the Duke, only looking on as if he were a spectator, and no actor in the present tragedy. Somerset enraged with his discomfiture, and having Wenlocks faith in some jealousy; upon his escape back obrayded him with the most ignominious terms of cowardice and treason: and transported by the heat of passion, with an Axe he had in his hand struck out his brains. This outrage begot nothing but disorder in the Queen's Camp; and so great grew the confusion, that no man knew whom to obey, or how or where to make resistance against the assaulting enemy. So unhappy is government both in war, and peace, when all authority is not conferred on one: a multitude of Commanders dividing the obedience of the inferior, and ever distracting resolutions among themselves. Whereas nature instructs us to a Subordination, and as in our own, so in a public body, it is monstrous either to have no head, or else to have more than one.  
The King took advantage of this uproar, and by it gained a most entire victory: For entering without any opposition the Queen's trenches, he committed a most cruel slaughter on all who resisted. Three thousand of the common soldiers (for they always pay for the rashness or folly of their Commanders) were slain that day, and among them the Earl of Devonshiere, the Lord John Beufort, and some other Gentlemen of name. The thick of the Park preserved some, and the Sanctuary others but them only for a while: for King Edward who was never an overscrupulous observer of religious rites, with his sword drawn would have entered the Church and forced them thence. But a good Priest careful to maintain the immunity of the place, with the Eucharist in his hand, opposed the violence and would not let him enter a place sacred to our most merciful God, until he had granted to all there his mercy by a free pardon. But this pardon betrayed them, for on the Monday after they were taken out of the Church; and all beheaded in the Market place at Teuxbury. Among whom of principal note were the Duke of Somerset and the Lord Prior of Saint john's, and many other Knights of great reputation and fortune. By which violation of the Sanctuary he made good the opinion which the world before had conceived of him; that Religion never could prevail so far upon his conscience as to be any bar either to his pleasures or revenge.  
The Queen half dead in her Chariot was taken in the battle, and not long after, the Prince was brought prisoner to the King by Sir Richard Croft. Who taking notice of the Proclamation, whereby the reward of a hundred pound by the year during life was promised to whosoever should yield the Prince's body, dead or alive, up to the King: (with protestation not to offer any violence to his person if alive) brought him unhappily to his death: Which when the good Knight afterward found, he repented what he had done, and openly professed his service abused, and his faith deluded.  
For King Edward presently upon the delivery of the Prince, caused him to be brought into his presence, and entertained him with some demonstration of courtesy: Moved perhaps thereunto by the innocency of his youth, compassion of his misfortune, or the comeliness of his person; the composition of his body, being guilty of no fault but a too feminine beauty. At first it was supposed the King might have some charitable intention, and resolve happily to have settled him in the Duchy of Lancaster, his Father's inheritance, a patrimony too narrow for a King, and something too large for a Subject; and thereupon to have entered discourse with him, whereby to make experience whether his spirit would stoop to acknowledge a Superior. He therefore questioned him what mad persuasion had made him enter into so rash an enterprise; where the very attempt was rebellion, being against his Sovereign, and folly being in opposition to a Prince so far in power above him? He expected an humble answer deprecatory for life, or soft and gentle, according to the complexion either of his fortune or his face. But he with a resolution (bold as his Grandfather Henry the fifth, would have replied with) answered, that to recover his Father miserably oppressed, and the Crown violently usurped, he had taken arms. Neither could he be reputed to make any unjust claim, who desired no more than what had been possessed by Henry the sixth, the fifth, and fourth, his Father, Grandfather, and great Grandfather, Kings of England; And acknowledged by the approbation not of the Kingdom only but the world: and even by the progenitors of King Edward.  
By the spirit of which language, when the King perceived how much his life might threaten danger; with a look full of indignation he turned from him, thrusting him disdainfully away with his gauntlet. Which so mighty rage observed, and his so distempered parting out of the room: The Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester, the marquis Dorset, and the Lord Hastings, seized suddenly upon the Prince, and with their poniards most barbarously murdered him. ● Of whom we can make little mention, his youth having performed nothing worth story, though it promised much. For under the government of a Mother (the worst education for a Son) he had been bred up, until this last scene of life; which he acted alone, and bravely; so that posterity hath sense of his misfortune yet, and applauds the justice of the Almighty in punishment of his murderers. For all of them came to violent ends; Gloucester being executioner of the rest; and of him the Earl of Richmond, the next surviving kinsman of the butchered Prince. The severity of which example, holds a glass before the eyes of the wicked, and shows them how rotten is all that greatness, which is not raised upon, and maintained by virtue: and as the conscience is ever after such a crying sin, inwardly tortured upon the rack of fear; so seldom doth the body escape outwardly an exemplary death by violence.  
After this general defeat of the enemy, the death of the Prince, and all the great partakers with the house of Lancaster, and the surprise of the Queen herself: the King returned toward London: This being the only complete victory he ever gained, from which no man of eminency escaped; and no man, who might pretend to a competition, was now preserved except King Henry, and he issueless and in prison.  
And to make this triumph resemble something of the Roman, the King carried with him his great captive the most afflicted Queen Margaret. A woman most unfortunate to herself, and most ruinous to this kingdom. For after her marriage into England. Soon finding her husband's weakness, safe however in being directed and strengthened by sober council; she never left off inventing new machinations till she wrought him into her sole command, with the destruction of his nearest friends. So that to make the prospect from her greatness larger she broke down and levelled his strong bulwarks. The Duke of Gloucester which might perhaps a little check her ambitious eye, but being taken quite away left her open to every tempest. Having therefore by fomenting dissension at home lost (except only Calais) all our void territories abroad: by the murder of the good Duke, her Husband's Uncle, she gave liberty to the house of York, to make their just claim to the Crown; and in the end to put her out of that government, she preposterously managed. In her prosperity, she was rather ambitious, then wanton; though from the last opinion did not absolutely acquit her. Which aspersion certainly was cast upon her, by reason of her too intimate familiarity with some of the younger and finer Lords: For the more discreet and aged, either disliked her projects; or were disliked by her, as persons too cautious to consult with a giddy woman. Her mighty confidence in the Duke of Suffolk, who wrought her marriage with England, hath left the largest part of that false suspicion upon his name. For who are just to her memory, cannot but say beside that she was religious, she was even too busy to think of Love matters. But perhaps the misfortune of her carriage gave some small occasion of the report. Her prosperous fortune presents her to us in the worst colours a factious, busy, and imperious Queen. ●er adverse in the best, a most industrious woman to recover what her folly had lost, an excellent Wife, and a most indulgent Mother. And had she never appeared in action but when misfortune had compelled her to it; she had certainly been numbered among the best examples of her Sex: But now the merits of her later part of life, by redeeming the errors of the former, serve only to l●vell her with the indifferent. The time she continued a prisoner in England, she showed us no face but that of desolation: the strength of her spirit, either broken in the murder of her Son; or else she accounted it a needless employment now to raise herself above her sorrows. After some time, her Father with the sale of much of that poor estate remained yet in his possession, ransomed her; whereby she was redeemed to another air, though not to a freer fortune. In addition to her other miseries she was punished with a long life, which she spun out sadly and ingloriously, living humbly upon the narrow exhibition her Father did steal from himself to afford her. Her life was much the talk of the present and succeeding times: because it concurred to the destruction of the house of Lancaster, a Family beyond any then in the Christian world, both in extent of dominion, greatness of alliance, and glory of action. Her death was so obscure (for who counts the steps of the unfortunate?) that it is not left certainly in story when she died.  
But King Edward by her misfortunes reckoned his own felicities: and now justly conceived himself secure in that Throne, he so passionately had endeavoured to sit at ease in. But because the Scene of his fortune had had more changes, than any King in England yet, except his Competitor: he continued still with a most watchful eye to look about him. And not knowing to how dangerous a growth his enemies might arrive, which for the present appeared weak: he thought fit to take order with Jasper Earl of Pembroke, who remained in Wales, with a power unable to offend the King, but able enough, considering the nature of the place, to defend himself. Wherefore, that without a public trouble he might destroy so private a person, he sent Roger Vaughan strong both in kindred and followers, with commission by some stratagem to entrap him. But the Earl had a discovery of his plot, and to deceive the deceiver; seemed to give opportunity for execution of the design: by which means he got Vaughan into his possession, and presently caused him to be beheaded. But knowing this act concurring with the whole progress of his life in opposition to the King, Would bring him to ruin, either by open power or secret practice; he resolved to sail over into Britain, and under the protection of that state to secure himself from the present storm. With him he carried his Nephew Henry Earl of Richmond, heir of the Teuthers' Family by the Paternal, by the material side of the house of Somerset, for the civil war had now destroyed all those great Dukes, who had with loss of their lives showed their devotion to King Henry, and left the inheritance of their honour with a far more favourable aspect to this young Earl.  
By the Duke of Britanny, they were received not only with promise of safety, but with relief of pension. Him perhaps the consideration of the instability of humane affairs, moved to this noble pity. But Peter Landois (the sole director of the Duke and a wicked man) persuaded his Master to give them entertainment out of an avaricious hope one day, to make a good merchandise for himself by sale of them into England.  
Yet could not the King bring his happiness to that quiet he desired; Some few small drops fell upon him after the great tempest. For a base Son of William Nevil Earl of Kent, commonly known by the name of the Bastard Fauconbrige, having been employed Vice Admiral by the Earl of Warwick, during the late combustions of the kingdom, to hinder all succours which might come from the Low Countries to King Edward's aid, soon as he understood the Earl's death, set up for himself and fell to trade in open Piracy. His conditions were ignoble as his birth, and only can be said a fit instrument to move the base multitude to sedition. between Dover and Calais he robbed most, and had now got under his command a Navy great enough to work mischief. Especially having the chief of Calais (who had sided lately with the Earl) of his confederacy, and by that means safety upon all occasions in their harbour. Gathering therefore into his retinue many of those who had escaped from the two former overthrows, and presuming upon the affection of the Kentish and Essex men, he sailed up the River of Thames.  
The intention of his arms divulging to be for the common liberty, and the redemption of the King and Queen imprisoned by an usurper. By which pretence, ever powerful to incline the vulgar to sedition, he invited to the quarrel so great a multitude, that the number was reckoned seventeen thousand fight men: Most of them the dregs and lees of former rebellions: Such who having been heretofore on King Henry's side, and wanting courage to make good the undertaking had by flight escapd; or else men whom guilt of some enormous disorder had prepared for any attempt; because neither could hope to remain long secure from punishment, when once the severe eye of a peaceable government, should look narrowly into their offences.  
With this he marched to Kingston hoping there to have crossed the River, but being debarred he led his Army into S ●. George's fields, and from thence with his Ordinance made some small battery on the City. And to strike the more terror, in the mean time he caused three thousand of his men to be transported by boat at Saint Katherine's, to make an assault on the other side at Algate and Bishopsgate. Who being set a shore with a courage as desperate as their quarrel, offered to force an entrance, but by the Citizens were bravely repulsed. The Lord Major and Aldermen directed by the great experience of the Earls of Essex and Rivers and the marquis Dorset, neglecting no part of the best Commanders. And so valiantly they pursued the rebels (who soon began to shrink) that Fauconbridge with much difficulty recovered his ships. For he overconfident of success had commanded them to fall as low as the Downs, little fearing he should so soon be forced to seek safety at Sea. And having vainly deluded himself and his Soldiers with expectation of great Forces from Wales under the conduct of Jasper Earl of Pembroke; With much danger of being destroyed at Black-heath, where for a while he entrenched, he got at length to Sandwich and fortified the place. Few of the Rebels who had any weak hope of pardon, following their General upon a forced retreat.  
The Commons entering thus upon every slight invitation into rebellion, when the preservation of King Henry was but mentioned, made the King begin to consider how dangerous his life was to the State; and that his death would disarm even the hope of his faction, for ever reslecting more upon the wars. It was therefore resolved in King Edward's Cabinet Council, that to take away all title from future insurrections, King Henry should be sacrificed. For howsoever some either to clear the memory of the King, or by after cruelties guessing at precedent, will have this murder to be the sole act of the Duke of Gloucester: Who can believe a man so cunning in declining envy, and winning honour to his name, would have undertaken such a business of his own council, and executed it with his own hands. Neither did this concern Gloucester so particularly, as to engage him alone in the cruelty: nor was the King so scrupulous, having commanded more unnecessary slaughters, and from his youth been never any stranger to such executions. In killing the Prince he had Clarence, Dorset, and Hastings for his conductors; and in the very murder of his Nephews (which was the securing his usurpation) he trusted Tyrrell: So confident had his innated inhumanity made him, that he doubted not but others might be faithful in villainy. But the death of King Henry was acted in the dark; so that it cannot be affirmed who was the executioner: only it is probable it was a resolution of state. The care of the King's safety, and the public quiet, in some sort making it, however cruel, yet necessary.  
But that the world might not suspect King Henry lived still, and thereupon lean to new designs, he was no sooner dead, but with some show of Funeral Rites, his body was brought into Saint Paul's Church: where upon Ascention day his face uncovered, he was exposed to the curiosity of every eye. For the King was resolved rather to endure the scandal of his murder, then to hazard the question of his life: Which continually gave life to new seditions. From Saint Paul's next day the corpse obscurely without any ceremony (in those days with much piety observed toward the dead) was conveyed to the Blackefryers, and from thence by boat to Chersye. Whence, after it had rested some while, it was removed to Windsor, and there at length found quiet. The King having even after death partaked with the troubles and disgraces of his life.  
The reason of burying him thus in the dark, I cannot guess to be any disrespect to so great a Prince; but only to stop the discourses of the Commons, who always pity them dead, to whose deaths their votes concurred. Unless it be true, what is commonly written, that the people began to censure hardly of his death, because at what time his body lay in Saint Paul's, and after in Blackefryers, a large quantity of blood issued from his nose. A most miraculous way of speaking the barbarism of his murder, and giving Tyrants to understand that the dead dare in their language tell the truth, and call even their actions to account. For this manner of bleeding was never observed to happen, but when against Law, Nature had been oppressed with violence, and seemed to challenge justice..  
With what aspect he entertained his fate, I cannot write; But well we may believe, he could not but smile upon death, who by a continual exercise in virtue, from his very Infancy had triumphed over sin; which only makes death formidable to a Christian. Of his outward actions, all good men of that time took a reverend notice: Especially of his due observation of all the Laws of the Church, his exemplar piety, humility beneath the state, commonly usurped by Princes; and a modesty even to admiration. But they were the virtues, which Crowned the first part of his life, passed over in a full prosperity, and appertain not to this story. His misfortune and death only fall to this task. And in his misfortune he expressed so singular a fortitude, that he was never observed dejected upon the report of any sad accident. But entertained all afflictions as sent from the Almighty, and absolutely resigned his will to that of heaven. How innocently he spent the last ten years of his life, which was in as much adversity as ever Prince suffered, his ghostly Father gave a happy testimony. Affirming that in all that long trial of the inward man, he never in confession could accuse himself of any actual sin. His employment was prayer, and his recreation only pious discourses which persuaded man to set a true value upon heavenly things, and throw a just contempt upon the world. And to such reputation the sanctity of his life arrived among the common people, that after his death they honoured him with the devotion due to a Saint. And King Henry the seventh (who owed most opinion to his holiness, because he had fore-professed he should enjoy that Crown for which the two houses then so much contested) laboured his Canonization with the Pope. But that succeeded not: For however the world was assured of his piety, there was much question of his government. So that he might be termed a just man, but an unjust King. Since his title to the Crown was unjust; for though it came by descent to him, yet was it but a continued usurpation: His Reign was guilty, I will not say through his demerit, but through his evil fortune, of much mischief, and the effusion of a Sea of Christian blood: And however in the contemplative part he was religious toward God, in the active he was defective to the world. So that to have made him worthy that honour Henry the seventh would have provided for him: He must either (being resolved in conscience his title was just) have fully performed the office of a King: Or knowing it questionable have submitted it to be disputed, freely and upon the resolution made resignation of what he unlawfully possessed. But justice which commands any diminution of greatness, is seldom obeyed by Princes; and death only makes them surrender up what was violently by their Progenitors usurpd, and unjustly by themselves continued, for till death ambition betrays the conscience, and fear of being less makes it not dare to see the truth, which persuades to restitution.  
King Henry thus taken away, the forces under Fauconbridges command; which before had the specious title of a just war, could now pretend to nothing but an unjust sedition. And so low they fell both in spirit and reputation, that all they intended was but to make show of war, whereby the easier to work their peace: No man of name or power, who before secretly had favoured them but openly professing against the enterprise. In Sandwich nine hundred of them remained, till they certainly understood the King's approach with a mighty power: then they sent forth Sir George Brooke, to acquaint his Majesty with their desire to return to his obedience, if they might by his pardon, be secured of their lives and liberties. They protested it was no fear or present necessity induced them to this submission, having confederates enough abroad to relieve them upon extremity, and for the present victuals for six months, and munition to oppose any assault. If this offer might be accepted, they would give up with themselves, the Town and Castle, together with all the shipping in the Harbour: If not, necessity would force them to their own defence. And if they must die, they would sell their lives at so dear a rate, that the King might repent his purchase. Considering he had killed so many who would have been as bold to have fought his quarrel, and lost so good shipping, and so commodious a haven Town; For they were resolved to see both consumed with themselves: that the victory might be no triumph to the conqueror, and the conquered might have that comfort in their ruin.  
The proposition was accepted by the King, and the Duke of Gloucester (whose wisdom and valour had wrought him high in the opinion of the King) was sent with a general pardon to the Rebels, and authority in the King's name to receive the Town, the Castle, and all the shipping in the harbour.  
But the King who never let any pardon be an impediment to his purpose, having them in his power; caused the Laws severely to proceed against them. And for the example of the rest, Spicing and Quintin (two of the chief in this rebellion) were executed at Canterbury; and their heads set upon those gates, which at their last being at London, they so furiously assaulted. And that the King might not only draw blood, but treasure from this business, a Commission of Oier and Terminer was directed to the Lord Deubam, and Sir John Fog, to inquire against Offenders in the last rebellion, and to inflict either corporal or pecuniary punishment. But the Commissioners who understood both the necessity and intention of the State: made rather choice of the later, knowing death would but incur the opinion of cruelty, and no way advance the King's benefit. Whereas great fines weaken as much the discontented, make the Prince as secure from danger, even with the reputation of clemency.  
And that Fauconbridge the first mover of this sedition might have no more privilege than his complices; coming into South-hampton he was apprehended and put to death. The inserting of his name in the former pardon, though often pleaded by him, serving only to make him suffer the same execution with the rest.  
The punishment of these succeeding so well, the King proceeded against others. And first against the Archbishop of York, brother to the Earl of Warwick, who with his spiritual authority had set a gloss of Religion upon all the later attempts. And by his working inclined the Commons of the North to so constant a resolution for King Henry. With him the King took order, because he found his ambition irregular, and sent him to be kept prisoner in the Castle of Guisnes. Where deservedly he endured a long restraint, never attained liberty till death enlarged him. No man afforded the poor comfort of pity to his affliction, because in his prosperity he had been insolent and factious.  
The manner of the attachment was, according to the custom of the King, unfaithful. For having admitted the Archbishop, after Barnet field, not only into favour, but a special familiarity; as he was hunting with him near Windsor, he promised to come to the More (a place in Hartford-shire, which was not long before purchased, and built up most commodiously by the Archbishop) and there to hunt with him: with this caution that there might be nothing but a liberal mirth, and friendly entertainment. With much complacency, the Archbishop retired to his house, joyful to see the King so free in his affection, without memory of former discontents. And that the entertainment might not be altogether beneath the Majesty of his person, against the Kings coming; beside all provision which the shortness of the time could make; he had gathered together of his own and his friends, plate and other rich householdstuff, to the value of twenty thousand pound. Next day expecting the presence of the King: On the sudden, Sir William Par knight, and Master Thomas Vaughan entered the house, and by virtue of a Commission to that purpose, confiscated all those goods to the King's use. Who having arrested his person and sent that to prison, seized upon all his estate both temporal and Ecclesiastical: The former forfeited for ever, the later during the Archbishop's life.  
The crime objected against him was treason, for secretly aiding the Earl of Oxford; who at that time had fortified Saint Michael's Mount in Cornwall. For the poor Earl seeing the whole Island lost from the house of Lancaster (in whose defence he had been so constant) and all the great favourers of the quarrel destroyed: having no place of safety to shelter himself abroad, took this corner of the kingdom, and endeavoured to make it good. But this was but the enterprise of a desperate man; for all his hope this way could be only to prolong a wretched life without servitude. As for liberty he was his own gaoler, and his fortress his prison. The whole number of his Soldiers were but seventy, scarce enough for his retinue. Yet with these he managed his business so happily, that though besieged, he revictualled the place: and made his defence good some months. But when Richard Fortescue, Esquire of the body to the King, and then Sheriff of the County, came down, and by open offer of the King's free pardon to all the Earls men, and secret practising; had wrought them to his purpose. The Earl was forced to yield, and with him the Lord Beumount, two of the Earls brothers, and Thomas Clifford: all persons of great name and quality: The King received them to mercy, as far as their lives were concerned. But for their estates (for now he began to husband his victories to the benefit of his treasury) he confiscated them wholly; not allowing the disconsolate Countess any part of her jointure. Insomuch that during the life time of King Edward (for all that while was the Earl kept prisoner near Calais in the Castle of Hames) she was forced to live upon the courtesy of her friends, a kind of better sort of alms.  
All now were reduced to order, except the Earls of Richmond and Pembroke: and them the King laboured to fetch in: For now either his nature was altered to a strange mistrust, which in his youth had been so taxed for an uncircumspect confidence: or else he began to be governed by a Council of a more wary judgement, and whose sight could discern danger a far off. And certainly who compares the first and last times of the King's government, shall perceive a strange difference in the policy: unless in those affairs wherein he obeyed his own direction, and in them remained a taint of his natural error. Which change of government may be ascribed to the Duke of Gloucester, a man whom the conscience of his own infidelity, made jealous of the faith of others: who thought no enemy alive and with liberty, but full of danger, how weak so ever his power or pretence might be: and who at this time held the stern of the Council, while the King at pleasure wantoned in his Cabin. By his advice Commissioners were sent over to the Duke of Britain, in whose dominions the Earls remained, to expostulate the injury of giving entertainment, to any evil affected to the state of England. Pembroke having been upon all occasions an open Rebel, and Richmond only wanting age to take arms, and who shortly appeared to threaten no less dangerous. They desired him as he respected confederacy with England, and the common policy of Princes, not to disoblige the King by comforting his enemies, and succouring such who could bring nothing but ruin to their abettors: Neither to prefer faith to two miserable exiles, before love to a Prince, who had both the power and intention to join with him in any war that might tend to the safety or honour of his Duchy. They concluded with an earnest request that he would deliver up into their hands the two fugitives that such order might be taken, as was safest for the present state. Or if the too scrupulous observance of an oath, perplexed him, that at least such care might be had, that they might neither attempt confederacy abroad, or a power to enable them to return home.  
The Duke made answer, that in point of honour he could not condescend to the King's first demand; having upon their arrival there given them his word. But for the second part he would beyond the Kings own desire consult for the safeguard of his Majesty, and restraining them from any power to attempt new erterprises. And perhaps, as it would preserve his reputation clearer to the World, so would it more advance the King's purpose to let them remain in Britain, rather than to have them returned into England Considering at home they had a great kindred, and by the slaughter of the rest, were grown chief of the faction of Lancaster; Whereas if they continued with him they should be in a free but a safe custody, in a Country where they were so far from power, that they wanted acquaintance. And that himself would narrowly look that no discontented persons should resort to them, or that they should make their addresses to any other Prince. Whereupon he entreated his Majesty to consider him as a Confederate most religious in maintenance of that amity, heretofore so happily begun, and hitherto so faithfully maintained.  
With this answer the Ambassadors returned, and the Duke made good his promise to the King. For presently he remooved all their English servants; and set Britons to attend them, who did rather observe then serve them: Men who cunningly marked, not only who made their dependencies upon them of the English, or with what people they held intelligence: but even their looks, and sent the Copy of them into England, oftentimes with a false interpretation. Then (that two together might not animate each other, and enter into dangerous Counsels) they were kept divided, and all communication either by language or letter, absolutely interdicted. And (that both being in the same sufferance, might not conspire to the same escape) there was a guard set upon them, who narrowly though respectively wa●ch● them. So that we may guess this great care the King took for their restraint, to have wrought a strange effect. Richmond esteeming himself more considerable as he was more suspected; and by the fears of the King making valuation of his own pretences. Great thoughts crept into his mind by the circumspection of such great Princes; and the vulgar both abroad and at home began to believe (for they always think there are strange depths, even in the shallows of Prince's actions) there was much mystery in Richmond, title, and danger in his liberty. Whereas had he lived unsuspected by the King; he had perhaps died unobserved by the world.  
By this negotiation with Britain, having secured himself of these two Earls, who might endanger trouble to the kingdom at home; he began to look abroad, whether yet he had never liberty to cast his eye: His pleasures or dangers higherto so taking up his time, that he had only served his appetite or safety. But now he had quieted all civil troubles, and even rooted up the very fear of war hereafter. He therefore thought it necessary to look, first upon France, a nation which had made benefit of our ruin; and while we busied our thoughts and courage, in destruction of each other, recovered so much life, they were grown dangerous. Of their farther growth the King was fearful, and resolved, if he could not make them less, at least to keep them at a stay. Whereupon having intelligence of a marriage in agitation between Duke Charles (brother to Lewis the Eleventh, and then heir apparent to the Crown) and the daughter and sole heir of Charles Duke of Burgundy; he endeavoured by all art to break off the treaty. For he considered how formidable the French would grow to our kingdom, should the so large territory of the seventeen Provinces with the other dominions of the Duke be added. How they would then be enabled to revenge those many injuries, the fortune of our victories had done them; when we should be left to our own arms; the Burgonian (by whose aid we had entered and conquered France) now prepared to war upon us. How France, superior always to the English in multitude, and extent of territory, and defective only in commodious Havens, would by this be enlarged with a mighty Sea coast, and as good men for Navigation as the world than had: By which they would have absolute command at Sea, and keep us within the narrow limits of our Island: If they would permit us that. These considerations made the King solicit both the Duke of Britain, and the Count S. Paul (the two earnest meditators for Duke Charles) to desist from farther negotiation in the marriage. Britain he moved to reflect upon his own danger, if Charles should survive King Lewis, as by course of years it was probable, and have so great an Empire under his command. That greater Princes, like greater Rivers swallow up the less, and after a while retain no memory of them. And if he presumed upon the friendship between him and Duke Charles, and the many courtesies done him; it was a treacherous hope, that never yet kept faith. That Britain never enjoyed all the privileges appertaining to the Duchy, but when France was disabled to infringe them.  
With the Count S. Paul he dealt another way, by representing to him the near friendship that ought to be between them too, in respect of the so near alliance, being Uncle to his Queen: By which he entreated him not to urge a business so prejudicial to the safety of the Crown of England; which in a near degree concerned his own blood. Withal he advised him to take care of himself, and not to exasperate too far King Lewis, to whom the treaty of this marriage was most unpleasing; in regard to the safety of his own estate. To foment discord between brothers, being injurious to religion, and unsafe to policy. For Nature reunites them, and throws both their mallices on him, who occasioned the first breach, and who for the most part is yielded up a sacrifice to the reconcilement. He concluded with the madness of his actions who would provoke the just anger of so subtle, and so revengeful a Prince; for the frail amity of so weak and inconstant a man as his brother Duke Charles, who so often had been entrapped.  
From both these Princes he received such answer as showed they resolved to prosecute their design, but not to have him suspect it. Giving fair protestations of their desire to be overruled by the King's direction. But neither of them understood the business in that dangerous nature, as it was conceived in England. For though King Lewis had no Son at that time, yet was there every day expectation he might have: the Queen likely to conceive, and Lewis in much health and strength of body. And indeed soon after a young Dolphin was borne who succeeded in the kingdom. Moreover they considered the malice between the brothers grown to that height, that all fear of reconciliation was needless: And that there was no such certain way to maintain a general dissension in France, as by enabling Duke Charles with a power to make good the former contestation. Nothing likely to incline him to seek friendship with his brother, but being disabled to continue an enemy.  
The King suspecting the reality of their intentions and resolved upon any terms to prevent the marriage, had in his determination to have forgot all former discontents justly conceived against King Lewis in abetting the contrary faction of Lancaster, and to have entered into a particular league with him against the Duke of Burgundy. But before he would make the overture, he tried by his Ambassadors to know the certain resolution of the Duke himself, who had in the marriage of his daughter always held his thoughts apart from the world. And in truth the end of his intentions was to keep all neighbouring Princes in expectation, but to conclude with none. For at the same time when Duke Charles had so many underhand promises with the self same hope did he entertain Maximilian Son to the Emperor Frederick the third, Nicolas Duke of Calabria, and Philibert Duke of Savoy. His ambition being to create many dependencies upon himself, and never to marry her to no man, unless he should be forced to it by some evil fate in war, and then he doubted not but by her to work himself safe and honourable conditions.  
Much importuned by the English Ambassador to give his resolution, and not knowing to what danger the King's suspicion might grow, or to what new leagues it might incline him; he answered him faithfully that he intended no such near alliance with Duke Charles. And that all those apparences of treaty were only to retain him in discord with his brother, who otherwise might chance to be reconciled, and hazard to destroy that faction, which the necessity of his affairs did enforce him to advance. He desired therefore the King not to listen to every false suggestion, but to believe he would do nothing in so material a point, without much advice, and care had for satisfaction of so great a confederate, and so near an ally.  
This so absolute resolution of the Duke took away the former jealousy, which soon after would howsoever of itself have vanished. For Duke Charles not without a strong suspicion of practice in King Lewis, died of poison, and so fixed a period to those many civil wars which had distracted the state of France, and to all those busy ambitions, which had so much disquieted his own content.  
At home the King was continually stung by a swarm of Creditors, who during his late troubles had supplied him with treasure, and for whom gratitude did oblige him to provide repayment. He found his Exchequer empty and a necessity to desire the Commonalty to contribute with their purses that many of his best friends might not be ruinated. He therefore summoned a Parliament to be held at Westminster, wherein though the reformation of abuses, and enacting Laws wholesome for the present time was pretended, a liberal subsidy was the aim. But in the beginning all those acts which had been heretofore made during the first part of King Edward's government, and abrogated by King Henry the last Parliament when for a time he was restored, were revived and enacted to continue in full force for ever: And whatever other statutes were made by King Henry, repealed. By virtue of which acts all the Nobility who had adherd to the house of York and had been for that attainted, were restored in blood and to their patrimonies; and all of the contrary faction found guilty of high treason, and their estates confiscated to the King. Then for relief of the King's great necessities (for all those so mighty fortunes served only to reward the multitude of his adherents) a full subsidy was granted; In recompense of which he gave them a general pardon. And indeed by that, liberally repaid them; For by the late civil wars, the laps into treason was so universal, that scarce any estate could be safe if licence were given to informers the Cormarants of a Commonweal, who swallow much, seldom or never grow fat; and least of all advance that they most pretend, the King's benefit.  
Some few days before the Parliament began, Lewis of Bruges a Netherlander Lord of Gruthuse and Prince of Steinhuse came over into England, who was received by the King with all the demonstrations of amity: And on the thirteenth of October in the Parliament Chamber created Earl of Winchester, receiving with the title the ancient arms of Roger Quincy, heretofore Earl of the place, with addition of the coat of England in a canton. The reason of this so extraordinary favour conferred upon a stranger, was the much application of respect he made to King Edward, when by the prevailing fortunes of the Earl of Warwick, he was forced to fly for refuge under the protection of the Duke of Burgundy. For he being a noble man of that Country, dedicated himself totally to comfort, the King distracted with his present affliction.  
Soon after him, the Parliament being newly ended, came Ambassadors from the Low-Countries; who after the first open audience (wherein for the most part passed only the compliment of Princes) admitted to the King and some few Lords most intimate to the King's resolutions spoke to this purpose.  

May it please your M tie.  
We are sent by our great Master the Duke of Burgundy upon an Embassy that may prove strange to the first apprehension, and even in itself contradictory. To congratulate your Majesty the glory of that peace you enjoy, and to invite you from it, to a new war. But glory is like time, everlastingly in motion, and when it stops it ends.  
Your Majesty hath by the happy conduct of your power and fortune, restored the Kingdom to itself; That was an act of necessity. For you could not be your self, if your great enemies had not been reduced to nothing. Now as great a justice doth invite you and the recovery of a larger Kingdom. Which we know your high spirit cannot refuse to undertake, lest the world have just reason to suspect you took Arms to live, not to reign. For if your title to the Crown of England be just, as man did always allow in judgement, and Almighty God hath approved in the success; The same title is good to the Crown of France. Both having been united into one ever since the usurpation of Philip de Valois.  
The people's affection to Princes of their own nation enacted an injurious Law; that authorised injustice, and confirmed the Sovereignty in the heirs Male. The Female were excluded, as if the distinction of kind could make a difference in right, and the being borne a woman were to be borne illegitimate, for the Law Salic in a manner bastardizeth the whole Sex.  
Your great Ancestor Edward the third, whose name and magnanimity you inherit, with his Sword abrogated this Law: And called the Lawmakers to a severe acacount at Crecie and Poitiers, where more veins of France were opened, and more blood issued; then any time records: Considering the small numbers of the English. In the later of the two battles John, Son to Philip of Ualois, labouring to make good the pretensions of his Father, was taken prisoner, and so continued less than a free Subject, by endeavouring unjustly to be a Sovereign.  
The little handful of men with which the English then opposed the vast armies of the French, not only showing the high advantage the Nation hath in courage: But the miraculous justice of the Almighty, who delights to make the destruction of Usurpers, his own Work; and not to permit man by his power to rival heaven in the punishment.  
Your Majesty needs not History to persuade you to the quarrel, or example to assure you of the success. The justice of the claim will easily prevail with you to draw again your sword, which hath been hitherto almost still unsheathed in vindication of your right: And that with so much prosperity, that they who admire your valour and direction, applaud your fortune.  
But if the nature of man, delighted in the felicities of peace, should advise your Majesty to satisfy your mind with the triumph of those victories, you have already purchased. Yet neither a just revenge, nor discreet policy will admit it. For how can England remain safe from future injuries, and acquit herself in honour against those who have heretofore affronted her: if France, where all the late combustions were first conceived, remain unpunished?  
The huge body of the civil War lies now a dead trunk, wounded to death by your arm, but yet Lewis of France, the head of that monster, though contrary to the ordinary course of Nature, retains still a life, and quickens mischief hourly against this Kingdom: lest otherwise his own be not secure. And should your Majesty out of desire to avoid the further effusion of Christian blood, permit him to continue in the unjust possession of a Kingdom, he would interpret his safety and your mercy to be either a blind ignorance, or a degenerate fear: And from your lenity draw the boldness to prepare new troubles against your quiet.  
And if it be not an over much care in a confederate and an ally, to make so narrow a scrutiny into your Majesty's affairs Our Master believes that this war, will not be unnecessary for the present state of England. In regard this way those many evil humours, gathered in the body of the Kingdom by the late disorders, will be easily purged away, or at least diverted. Seeing experience teacheth us how impossible it is, for a Nation nursed in civil war, suddenly to embrace a peace, and endure a severe government. And should the discontented not vent themselves thus abroad; how dangerous it might make the disease at home, is easy to be conjectured.  
But all this shows only the justice and necessity of your war: Preparations great enough to oppose a King of France, yet we have not touched upon. And that indeed is it, our Master gave us in our instructions most to acquaint your Majesty withal: As by which it will be most apparent, how without any reflection upon his own occasions, he invites you to this undertaking. For his Highness understands how far this overture lies open to a false interpretation, considering his enmity with King Lewis; did not the circumstance of the business show how your Majesty is rather desired to a triumph then a battle.  
Never had France so many enemies, so powerfully united; and never so few friends, if she may be said to have any. For except only the poor Duke of Lorraine, who happily may be a burden, never an aid to any Prince; we can hardly reckon a confederate. For so treacherous have been all King Lewis his arts, so dissembling his nature; that the world hath concluded it much safer to be at enmity with him, then upon the fairest terms. His friendship having ruined some, his arms never any man.  
In confederacy with our Master, and in absolute resolution to invade France, are the Duke of Britain, and the Count Saint Paul. Britain able of his own Subjects to bring a powerful army into the field; Saint Paul by his kindred and intelligence to cause a general revolt of all the nobility from the King. And indeed such hath been the carriage of that politic Prince (for that epithet his poor shifts have got him) that a continual contempt hath been thrown by him upon the great Lords, and a most near familiarity entered into with the basest people. His barber being more acquainted with the affairs of state, than the whole body of his Council.  
This preposterous course of favour, hath made the greatest states of the Kingdom scorn their present King, and reflect upon your Majesty, whose comportment in war and peace hath been such as justly makes your triumph in the general affections of your many friends, and utter destruction of your enemies.  
If it may therefore please your Majesty to admit of that greatness your high descent hath title to, and your Predecessors ' have had possession of; The arms of these great Princes are prepared to serve you. Our Master first honoured your Majesty as a potent neighbour, great in yourself as in dominion. Then by marriage he grew into the nearest degree of correspondence; the title of Brothers, (a ceremony used between Princes) being of due in alliance between you two: Lastly, he had the happiness which Potentates seldom have (though with some trouble to your Majesty) to enjoy entire familiarity: By which those other respects, common among persons of like quality, and which are often but weak ties of amity; converted into a perfect friendship. So that this desire his Highness hath to advance your Majesty's glory and command, proceeds only from love to the posterity of your person, and just claim. With How powerful forces he will concur to this great action, hath been of purpose omitted: Because the world hath had sufficient testimony, how able his Highness hath been to oppose, if not oppress, King Lewis without borrowing aid from a confederate. He therefore entreats to know your Majesty's resolution, whether you will pass over and personally make your own claim to the Crown. Your Majesty's only presence being of power to raise a fuller army in the very heart of France, then yet ever King of England led to conquer France.   
This overture took generally with the great Lords, who in their infancyes by their Nurses having been told no stories but of our triumphs in France (and those tales imprint deeply in the memory) and now for many years ever acquainted with the wars at home, embraced danger as the only means to honour. Moreover an appetite of glory, mingled with a noble emulation of the prowess of their Fathers, made every man of name thrust forward to this action. Neither were the more covetous backward, considering they were to war with a richer, and a more effeminate nation; and not unlikely to return loaden with spoil; if not to remain there in a fertiller and a pleasanter Country. The Soldier, who was in a manner all the gentry of the Land (for the civil wars had engaged them all to the study of arms) relished this business more than the great Lords. For they, having been bred up in the free licence of war, abhorred to be circumscribed within the narrow bounds of the Laws, which never have absolute power but in peace. So that the whole body of the Kingdom passionately affected the quarrel, and by their universal acclamations in praise of it, persuaded the King soon to declare his assent.  
Whereupon sending for the Ambassadors, he showed his resolution to the war, which he would undertake in person, and that very Spring (for it was now presently after Christmas) transport his Forces into France. He desired therefore to understand, in what readiness the Duke of Burgundy had his army, and where he would appoint the place for the English to join, and which way should first be taken. To which the Ambassadors made answer; that the Duke had his Forces so well prepared that if the King would nominate a certain time when he would be at Calais; the Duke would be sure three months before to waste the whole Country belonging to the French, and to have his men so expert that they should be able to instruct the English, unacquainted with the place. And as for transportation of his Soldiers they desired his Majesty not to perplex himself, in regard his Highness would provide boats for that purpose. Then that the King might perceive how faithfully the Duke dealt with him, they showed the Articles agreed upon between the Dukes of Burgundy, Britain, and the Count S. Paul; to join in a war offensive against King Lewis: As likewise a Catalogue of the names of all the great Lords of France, who held secret intelligence with them, and who would revolt from the French King, soon as the Duke's army took the field.  
With this so satisfactory answer, the Ambassadors returned to the Duke, who in this attained the ambition of many years working. For all the fear which troubled his busy mind was, least King Edward won by the practices of King Lewis, might be induced to side with France, or else to remain a neuter. And indeed the last he suspected most, knowing the nature of our King so prone to voluptuousness, to which the noise and trouble of the wars never gives free licence. He therefore by continual Embassies, kept him constant to his resolution, and with larger promises of supply, and clearer apparences of success, pricked forward his ambition to the enterprise.  
But all these arts were needless, for the King was forward to the quarrel: Either out of a brave emulation of Henry the fifth his Predecessor of the other line; or out of a confidence as easily to throw King Lewis out of the throne of France, as he had King Henry out of the Sovereignty of England; or perhaps not to appear backward in an attempt of glory, when the expectation of the kingdom called upon him to arm. For unless some malice rancord in the genius of our Nation against the French, the Saxon government having received a final overthrow by them, in the conquest of Duke William (though to that great business conspired all the adjacent Countries) it would be our wonder why the English were never sparing of their lives or treasure, when any war might be advanced against the French, And of this so extraordinary forwardness in his people, the King took a great advantage.  
To compact the body of this enterprise, money the nerves and sinews of war were wanting. The ordinary course for supply was by Parliament, and that at this time was held difficult if not impossible: In regard the King but a little before had dissolved the assembly, having received for discharge of his debts a large contribution: and to urge them to a second aid, would probably end in distaste, if not in denial. Neither could it appear less than extreme exaction, to force the Farmers, who make up the greatest number in any payment, to yield to asubsidie; considering the precedent troubles of the Kingdom had utterly: impoverished them by hindering tillage and all good husbandry. And for the Nobility, who pay a large share in all general collections; they for the most prepared themselves for the expedition. And it could not but rebate the edge of their courages to be at a vast charge not only in the particular setting forth of their own persons and their retinue; but in the general preparations. There was therefore a new way found out, by former ages never known without oppressing the Commons, to supply the King, the name it bore was a benevolence, (though many disproved the signification of the word, by their unwillingness to the gift) and it was cunningly and discreetly required only of the better sort of people, who were known to have a plentiful revenue. And especially of such whom ease and wealth were likely to detain at home. Knowing that the heaviest burden might be laid on them without a public murmur, as men hated by the Soldier, and upon whose prosperity ever attends a common envy.  
In advancing this contribution no policy was omitted, either by private menaces, or public entreaties. Some came in led by fear (not knowing to what indignation a denial might provoke the state) Other cunningly persuaded to a vain hope of enjoying the King's particular favour by their forwardness: Few granted it for love to the enterprise; Most only because their neighbours did it, and they wanted courage to disobey example. In History a Widow is much spoke of, who having freely, and somewhat above the proportion of her estate, contributed twenty pound, received from the King a kiss. Which his so extraordinary favour (extraordinary to a Widow declined in years) so overjoyed her, that she doubled the sum, and presented it to the Collectors. By which slight passage, a judgement is easy to be made of the King's nature: either of itself full of humanity, or without difficulty bending to the lowestcurtesie, when it any way concerned the advancement of his profit.  
By this art moneys were raised, and now nothing was wanting to the expedition. The universal language of the Kingdom being of the wars, and all exercises military. No person of blood or quality, but prepared for the journey, except only those whom infancy or extreme age exempted, or the necessary administration of the Common weal. And all they who went emulated, each other in the glory of their armour, the richness of their pavilions, the bravery of their horse's furniture, and servants apparel. Every man being held so far to recede from honour, as in his preparations he expressed an unwillingness to the business.  
The army consisted of fifteen hundred men at arms, fifteen thousand Archers, eight thousand common Soldiers, beside three thousand pioneers appointed to guard the ordinance and the carriage. Three thousand good soldiers were sent into Britain, to join with his forces, and assault France on the other side.  
All things disposed in so full a readiness, the King sent over to the Duke of Burgundy, to acquaint him with the state of the army; and to know in what forwardness businesses were on that side. Who returned answers full of confident promises, and exhortation to the King to make all possible haste over, the Summer coming on a pace; which if passed further without action, would endanger the loss of the whole expedition for that year. He ascertained him moreover of certain Towns under the government of the Count S. Paul, which should be surrendered into the King's hands, for retreat to the English upon any occasion of the badness of weather or fortune. And indeed how weak soever the Duke knew the condition of his army, yet fearful he was to express it; lest the King should take advantage to give over the undertaking. The King's nature being known diseased so much with the love of peace, that the Duke was justly suspicious how sound soever it appeared for the present, it might upon the least distemper fall into a relapse.  
Upon these assurances from the Duke, the King gave order that all his Forces should repair to London: Whence after some few months spent in preparations, he marched toward Dover. But before he took shipping, that the progress of the War might be the more successful, the beginning was made according to the old heroic strain of bravery. For the King sent a Herald over with a letter of defiance to Lewis of France: in which he was required to surrender up to the King of England, the Realm of France, as due to him by the laws of inheritance, and violently wrested away from Henry the sixth, by Charles' the seventh, and as unjustly possessed by Lewis. By which voluntary resignation of the Crown, was showed how without effusion of blood, the King of England should be enabled to restore the Clergy, and Nobility to their ancient greatness and privileges, and the Commons to their liberty: Of which they had all been so cruelly deprived, by the injurious usurpation and tyrannical government of Charles and Lewis. It showed likewise how far the Kingdom of France in general, would by this receive benefit, considering it would be eased of all those many and unsupportable exactions, which by those covetous Princes, had been laid upon it. It concluded with a threatening of all the mischiefs accompany war, and an absolute despair of all future mercy, or care to be had of Lewis his provision; if upon so fair an admonissiment, and summons given he refused to yield the Kingdom.  
This Letter saith Comines (an Author of that time, happy in writing many cunning particulars of the Princes he served, but rude in the art of History, and ever blemishing the glory of our Nation) was penned so elegantly both for language and matter, that he believed it was beyond the abilities of an English wit. A bold and ridiculous censure. For how could he who was borne no Native of France, and never had been instructed in any learning, judge of language? Or how of the witty contrivance of the Letter; since in his own History, which is received by the world with so universal an applause, there is an apparent defect in order and method? And without vanity our Nation may assume to itself the praise, considering the narrow limits of the Island, to have produced as many Scholars admirable in all degrees of knowledge, as any Country on this side the Alps. Neither was that age (though according to the necessity of the time, more expert in arms than arts) without excellent wits famed for literature. But this digression the reader must pardon; a sense of our Nations honour thrust my pen out of the way, if this be from the purpose.  
Whatsoever the Letter was in the composure, it was such in the substance, that it discomposed King Lewis, and troubled all his imaginations. He read it softly and fearfully; which was beneath that part of understanding he was most Master of, even policy itself. For it could not but beget strange interpretations in the Court, when the message of an enemy delivered publicly by letter should be kept concealed. The demand must probably be easily conjectured, and this silent way of answering could not but procure suspicion, that his resolution might descend to yield more than became a Prince. But in the manage of this, as in all other businesses, King Lewis delighted to give order alone, and show his authority independent of any Council, without perplexing himself at all to satisfy opinion.  
Having read the Letter he withdrew himself into a Wardrobe, and commanded the Herald to be brought to his presence. To whom he in answer to the Letter said: That he knew the King his Master had not resolved upon this enterprise, out of his own disposition; but overcome by the solicitation of his people, and the persuasion of the Duke of Burgundy, and the Count S. Paul. His people infatuated with a vain presumption of victory, because heretofore the success of their wars in France had been fortunate, never considering the disparity of the state of things, or the uncertainty of events, especially where fury and fortune, two blind powers, bear the wholesway. The Duke of Burgundy, (loving war for itself, and having rashly engaged himself into many quarrels) out of desire to draw the King of England into his dangers, or at least at another's cost, to beat the bargain of peace, to a lower rate. The reason why he had so laboured King Edward to take arms, and revive an absolute title to the kingdom of France, being only for his own preservation which was threatened by all his injured neighbours, or else as it is reported of people diseased of the Plague, in envy to the health of other Nations desirous to infect even his nearest allies with the contagion of his quarrel. As for the Count S. Paul, who had ever subsisted by dissimulation and setting division between Princes, whereby his assistance either for the prosecution of the war, or conclusion of peace might be required as necessary: All his hopes in this quarrel were only to fish in troubled waters, and by an universal combustion to raise himself into authority, in regard peace leveled him with inferior Lords, and made his service of no use.  
King Lewis proceeded on to tell him in how miserable a condition the Burgonian army was, having been broken at the siege at Nuz (a desperate and mad undertaking) and now returned home, the Soldier destroyed either by the sword or famine: and that small number escaped, so wretched that the Duke might well expect protection from the King, but could no way be of power to advance his purpose. He added how the season of the year, Summer being almost past must of necessity deter the King from crossing the Sea, and many other arguments against the present undertaking: As if the Herald being persuaded to quiet by Oratory; France might have been reprived from war for that year. And to make him the more his friend, he gave him three hundred crowns, with promise of a thousand more, if the peace, so much desired by him, took effect.  
The Herald overcome much by his persuasions, but much more by his money, replied. That no travel on his part should be omitted, that might tend to the service of his Majesty's intentions: And that he, as far as his observation upon the King's nature could reach, imagined no great difficulty to bring his Master to a fair accord: But that, as yet, the motion would be most unseasonable: Considering that after so vast a charge in levy of an army, and so universal an applause to the design, his Majesty could not retire, until at least he had led his Forces into France: and made some appearance of intending what so constantly he had pretended. He advised him therefore to let the army pass over to Calais, & thither to send his Herald to desire a safe conduct for Ambassadors: with order to make addresses to the Lords Stanley and Howard, and himself. And that the way should be prepared so plain for King Lewis his purpose, that there should be no impediment at the worst to a fair respect: if not to a full satisfaction of his desires.  
All this discourse passed in private; In public there was caution, by the King's strict command given, that no French man should have any communication with him: And soon as possibly, he was dismissed with many fair words, and thirty els of crimson velvet for reward. The King after his departure, expressing in his look and carriage, much cheerfulness and courage, either comforted by the faint hopes our Herald gave him, or else cunningly dissembling his fears.  
The order of this discourse between them, is delivered to us as a high reach of policy in King Lewis. But to an indifferent understanding it appears nothing but the ordinary wit of cowardice: and certainly how covetous soever the necessity of his occasions made him to buy peace, yet his manner of traffic at this time was beneath the spirit of a Prince. For although his largesse to the Herald wrought the wished effect, yet he might have been deceived by him, and by his so earnest desire to avert the present war, have endangered it much more fierce upon him. Neither could it be imagined common discretion to commune his fears to an enemy, who might perhaps betray them to the scorn of the English army; or to negotiate peace with a Herald (though even persons of much worth and understanding) yet commonly remote from the knowledge of the inwarder resolutions of state, But the manage of this business thus, took a good effect, and that concurring in a Prince, whose other actions were politicly ordered, made it have so happy a censure.  
Upon return of the Herald, the King embarked for Calais, and after him followed his army. Which was transported in certain flat bottomed boats of Holland and Zealand, by them usually called Scuts, lent as before covenanted by the Duke of Burgundy. And notwithstanding the commodiousness of the vessels and the multitude, being five hundred in all, three weeks were they in their passage, among all the forces not being one page. Which as it instructs us in the vast numbers of the Soldier, so doth it in the strength and power; in regard they were all able men, who undertook this enterprise; and who came not to learn but to make proof of their knowledge in arms.  
Soon as he heard they were certainly a shore, the Duke in all haste came to congratulate the King's safe landing, and happy arrival of the army: for there was just ground for fear, that the French Navy might have endeavoured to trouble their passage. But the Duke coming with a very small train, much afflicted the expectation of the English▪ who thought to have seen him march to meet them with five and twenty hundred men at arms well appointed, beside a large power of horse and foot: As by his Ambassadors and his own Articles had so amply and frequently been promised. But to take away this suspicion from them for fear it might any way drive back their thoughts toward England; he told them that his so private coming to the King, was only to express his joy for the King's safety and theirs: and that his army was further in the Country, so well prepared for the present design; that they should have no reason to think him any way to have boasted. He therefore invited them to march up into the Land, where they might be better accommodated, and conducted the King to Bullen: A Town which having been heretofore mortgaged by the French, to Philip Duke of Burgundy, with a large part of Picaray; was notwithstanding the often tender of the money by Lewis, still detained violently by Duke Charles. There he gave the English a free entertainment, and still kept their expectation high. From thence he went with them to Peron, another Town of Picardy kept upon the same terms. Into which he admitted but few of the better sort of the English, and over those too he carried a watchful eye: The army forced to lodge in the field, which was the less inconveni▪ convenient in regard of the Season of the year, and the commodiousness of pavilions and tents, with which they were so plentifully furnished. The Duke perhaps loath to trust the army in possession of so important a place, lest their expectation irritated they might attempt to him some trouble. To Peron the Count Saint Paul sent to congratulate the King's arrival in France, to promise all service to his enterprise, and his towns to his use and command. Whereupon the King removed to Saint Quintin, over which Saint Paul commanded there to accommodate his Army; till the Duke's forces were in readiness to take the field. But as some overhasty Troops having got the start of the Army came confidently toward the gates, expecting to be received, if not with triumph, at least with all the demonstrations of joy; the Artillery from the town shot against them, and some of the Garrison issued forth to skirmish, in which two or three of the English perished. This appearance of hostility from a Confederate, confirmed the former jealousy of the Army, and raised a strange murmur both against S. Paul, and the Duke. Which increased by the difficulties of a tempestuous night, with which the English after were troubled: For an extraordinary rain fell, and made the so open lodging very unpleasing, with danger of diseases to the Army.  
The Duke of Burgundy opposed against this discontent, with his authority; but in vain: For not able to give satisfaction for his own weakness and breach of promise, he was more disabled to clear suspicion from another. Whereupon he took his leave of the King, entreating his and the Army's patience for a while, till he brought his Forces to join with them, and a full account from the Count S. Paul, of his Garrisons demeanour at S. Quintin.  
But this his departure compared with the former carriage of things, begot yet a stronger doubt of their intentions in the English, who being strangers in that place, and not having any particular arm in conduct of the business; but only a general resolution to regain France, interpreted these delays and false play to direct treason. And began openly to inveigh against their own folly in confiding on the promises of such, who indevored not the glory of the English name, or the King's title; but only their own safety. For preservation of which, under a specious pretext of recovering a Kingdom, they had seduced them into a strange Country, in hope hereafter to sell them to the French. And although this discourse were only in the mouth of the common Soldier; yet did the thoughts of the Commanders participate with the vulgar; though not so freely opened For hitherto there had been no assurance given of any real intention either in Burgundy or Saint Paul.  
The much indignation expressed by the English upon this occasion was thought a strange kind of rude ignorance, and a note even of barbarism. Which censure savoures too much of malice; considering it could not be judged blind presumption induced our Nation to this undertaking; the State, for it, having the fairest appearance of human reason, and the religion of the strongest oaths. And if the unexpected treachery of S. Paul engendered choler; why should this passion be so contemptible; since an injury from a friend, is ever quicker and sharper to the sense; and all nations removed from their own seats upon dangerous adventures, are prone to suspicion. And for ignorance in the Art of war. ● see not how by malice itself it can be obtruded upon the English; since their only misery was too much experience in arms; which ever begets knowledge. Neither could they be but skilful even in the military exercise of the Frecnh, few of the Soldiery who were now of any age, but their youth had been bred up and instructed under the command of that great Captain Talbot Earl of Shrewsbury and others: Not full twenty years expired, since we turned our swords upon ourselves, and gave France liberty to recover breath.  
But this delatory way in the Duke, and treachery in the Count, prepared the army to a good thought of peace: And brought the two confederates, into more hatred than an open enemy. So that when an Herald came from King Lewis, he was received into the English Camp with much humanity; and friendly invited by the Soldier, to refresh himself with wine and meat, till the King, who was then at dinner, were at leisure to give him audience. For Lewis, following the instructions of our Herald, soon as he understood King Edward was landed, and had heard likewise of some disgusts, appearing between him and the Duke; resolved to send to him, and attempt to persuade a peace: But so poor was he in the outward ceremonies of Majesty, that no Herald attended on his Camp: whereupon he was enforced to suborn a fellow, of whose wit and confidence he had taken some notice, to act the part▪ Who having received full instructions from his Master addressed himself to the Lords Stanley and Howard, and the English Herald, by whose aid being brought to the King, ●e handsomely delivered his message. The effect of which was: To show the great desire the King his Master had to live in perfect amity with all neighbouring Princes, but above all with his Majesty of England, as who in the extent of Empire, and his own Prowess was most considerable. That he had much reason to believe the present war had not received the first life in England, especially not in the disposition of the King; which (as he was informed) abhorred the unnecessary drawing of Christian blood. That they who had first hatched this quarrel, did it only with their neighbour's danger to procure their own safety, and when they had made an advantageous peace, to conspire with him, who before had been the common enemy, for beating back their best friend the English. That he doubted not but that his Majesty would suddenly find good ground for suspicion, when he should perceive the Duke of Burgundy, not able to bring into the field one entire regiment. All his Forces having been utterly broken upon desperate services; to which an innate love to the war had madly engaged him. Then he proceeded to excuse his Masters succouring the faction of Lancaster: To which he protested he never gave comfort for itself, but only for the Earl of Warwick's sake. Whom he supported only to affront Burgundy, whose irreconciliable enemy Warwick had ever professed himself. And if he had inclined more to favour King Henry, he might well excuse it, in respect of his near kindred to him and his wife Queen Margaret, and something too in reason of state, to oppose Burgundy who pretended to be a friend (how false soever he proved to the house of York. That if his Majesty would be pleased to search up to the very head of this business, he shall find more streams of assistance to have flowed from Burgundy then from France to King Henry; Duke Philip and this Duke (till his marriage with the Princess Margaret) having most passionately laboured the supportation of that family, to which they were so near in kindred. The conclusion was to desire his Majesty to grant a safe conduct for a hundred horse, in whose company should come Ambassadors enabled with larger instructions, and who should make proposal of such conditions, as could not be rejected by the King or Kingdom of England, since they should be for the honour and profit of both: Unless it would better stand with his Majesty's liking to assign a place of treaty in some village between both armies, to which they might jointly send Commissioners.  
This message delivered in a soft tone, expressing much humility, and ever ascribing to the King's greatness of Spirit and the nations glory; together with promise to make overture of conditions both honourable and profitable; begot a favourable audience. And many of the great Lords, who had plentiful revenues at home, were as forward as the King to listen to peace, and forsake unnecessary dangers abroad. Neither did the greatest statists dislike a treaty, considering that all our wars in France had rather purchased fame then treasure to our Kingdom, and when our Soldier returned home, their scars were greater than their spoils. And howsoever we had at staits got possession of the largest territories in France, yet still we retired back again: As if the divine providence had decreed to have our Empire bounded with our Seas. Moreover they who affected the happiness of a Kingdom and loved their own country, desired rather France under a foreign governor, lest if in possession of our King, England being the less both in extent and fertility, might be reduced to the condition to a Province, and live in obedience to a Deputy, enriching the greater Kingdom with her tribute. Other consirations likewise of the present state of the wars, prevailed to get content for a treaty, whereupon with reward the Herald was dismissed, a safe conduct granted, and the place for the Commissioners appointed in a Village near Amiens. For the King were nominated, the Lord Howard, Sir Anthony St. Leger, and Doctor Morton: for the French, the bastard of Bourbon, Admiral of France, the Lord Saint Peire, and the Bishop of Evereux.  
This at the first meeting brought almost the treaty to a conclusion, for on both sides they brought minds disposed to peace. And although the English Commissioners at first demanded the Crown of France as due to the King by right; from which in honour he could not recede; and afterward with much appearance of difficulty condescended to be content with Normandy and Guien, yet they themselves knew well Princes never use to part with Countries upon treaty, before the battle hath imposed a necessity to yield. And indeed the English expected not that Lewis would be frighted out of so important limbs of the body of France, only upon the braving of an enemy. Soon this first flourish of businesses came to more easy terms. Edward desired to be gone without loss of honour, Lewis to have him gone with as much reputation as he desired. Edward had occasion of money, and Lewis was willing to make him a bridge of Gold from Calais to D●ver, whereon to carry back his Army. And shortly to both their contents an absolute atonement was made. Whereby threescore and fifteen thousand Crowns were to be paid to King Edward before his departure out of France, and fifty thousand annually.  
Concerning the annuity of fifty thousand Crowns, there is much controversy among French and English writers about the name. They call it a Pension, uvea Tribute. And certainly the later (to speak without partiality to ourselves) hath in it much more propriety of language. For a Prince who overawed by a powerful Army mediates by deprecatory massages to divert the battle, and afterward buys his safety not only with a present Sum, but an annual payment cannot have a freer name than tributary. And as for pensions they are granted upon petition to the poorer and weaker, not upon fear to the mightier. But to compare the greater actions of Princes to the customs of Subjects: The threescore and fifteen thousand Crowns was the fine King Lewis paid for France, and the fifty thousand annually the rent: Only the farm was too mighty to be set, and the tenant too strong and stubborn ever to quit possession to his Landlord.  
Then for establishment of future peace (that posterity might partake in the benefit of this accord) it was concluded that the Princess Elizabeth, eldest daughter to King Edward, should marry with Charles the Dolphin Son to Lewis: And for her present maintenance five thousand Crowns from France to be paid in the Tower of London; and after the expiration of nine years, she and the Dolphin to be invested in the Duchy of Guienne. And that on the English side there might be no fraud; upon payment of the first sum the Lord Howard and Sir John Cheinie Master of the Horse, were to remain in hostage, until the Army were returned into England. But that the King might not seem to forget his confederates, the Duke of Burgundy and Britain were comprehended if they would accept the peace. The Count S. Paul was abandoned in this treaty, as an efficiall servant and subject to the Crown being Constable of France; and who by his dissimulation and treason, had most offended the nature of our King. And usually thus to reconcile great Princes, lesser are offered up for sacrifice.  
This peace was generally received by the Army with applause, as by people who began to consider no victory before the battle certain, and in the battle much hazard. Only the Duke of Gloucester, who stood aloof off on the other side, for honour frowned at this accord; and expressed much sorrow, as compassionating the glory of his nation blemished in it. He repeated his jealousy of the world's opinion, which necessarily must laugh at so chargeable a preparation to attempt nothing: And scorn either the wisdom or courage of the English; when they shall perceive them in so full numbers, and so well armed to pass the Sea, after a defiance sent, and challenge to a Crown to return back without drawing a Sword: Moreover to forsake the amity of so constant friends, and in extreme necessity to betray them beguiled by a common dissembler: whose shifts and tricks of state, like the slights of hand in jugglers, are discovered, and wondered at by those fools only, whom he cousin's. And what carried with it an appearance of most danger, to necessitate the Duke of Burgundy to a peace with King Lewis, whereby both may hereafter join in a common league against us: Who by this one act have forfeited all leagues with our ancient confederates, and frighted any other Princes from joining with us.  
With Gloucester agreed many of the Army, who were either dependant upon him, or who had as unquiet thoughts as he, some likewise, who having set up the rest of all their fortunes upon this gain, found themselves undone in their hopes because the Princes had drawn statues. But most of a discontented humour, that maliciously always interprets the actions of Princes to the worst sense. But the Duke of Gloucester had a further and a more dangerous aim; as who by the dishonour of his brother, thought his credit received increased, and by how much the King sunk in opinion, he should rise. And in regard good and quiet men were delighted in the accord he would be had to the wicked; and unquiet, and add a lustre to his faction by drawing the nations honour to his part.  
But why this peace should endure so hard a censure, both at home and abroad is strange, and above all why King Lewis should ascribe any honour to himself, or think the advantage on his side▪ For what eclipse soever the English glory suffered, certainly the French by a most servile way purchased safety. They descending beneath the honour of men by money to wave a battle; we being only faulty in not having performed more than men. For if we consider ourselves subject to the chance of war, why was not an honourable peace to be preferred? Especially since if we had failed in the success, how wretchedly had our forces been broken in opinion, and how impossible on the sudden to reinforce the Army? And if the French had declined the battle into what necessities had we fall'n, the Summer almost passed, and both Burgundy and S. Paul refusing to let us have towns to winter our men? And if we look upon the peace itself, nothing is in it disadvantageous to our honour or profit. Considering it brought not only a great present sum and annual revenue, but brought it from the then greatest Prince in Christendom enforced by fear. And for convenience, the marriage of the King's daughter to the Dolphin, could not be but esteemed of main consequence, why then won that apothegme so much reputation, that reported our King to have gained nine battles in which he personally fought, and never to have ●ost any but this? Since in this he overcame a Prince of far greater power than he ever fought with before with no disadvantage, but that the victory was purchased without blood, which should be esteemed an addition to the glory of it. And if you cast your eye back upon the course held in the most famed Empire, and especially in the Roman, which was the noblest, you shall find they never refused their friendship to any Prince who supply (as Lewis of France to King Edward) requested it: And took more glory to have Kings their tributaries, than their Kingdom's farmed out to a more profitable revenue. But of this enough, and but enough, since it tends only to vindication of the English honour; which the French vaunted so much to have suffered in this treaty. In which they think us by their wits miserably overreacht, and perhaps indeed we were, if the articles be only judged by their fears, and not by the difficulties of our army at that time, and the just jealousy of the King that his confederates intended not his but their own business.  
The news of this Peace no sooner came to the Court of the Duke of Burgundy, but in all hast he posted to the English Camp, attended only by sixteen Horse. The distraction of his look and gesture expressed the wildness of his thoughts; so that the whole Army discovered his discontent, before he uttered it. His first address to the King was, in question of the truth of the common report that spoke a peace concluded between him and King Lewis? Which when he was resolved was true, he presently broke into a most passionate fierce language. Obrayding the King with inglorious sloth; and the indefatigable courage of former Kings of England: upon whose attempts waited ever the noblest victory. He made a scornful repetition of the mirth his enemies would make at his return: as if he had come over with so huge an Army, Merchant like to traffic for a little money: and the contempt he must needs become to his own people, when they should perceive the great conquests their contributions have brought home. And when it was intimated to him, that he and the Duke of Britain, were included in the Peace: he disdainfully rejected it, protesting the love he bore the English name, not care of his own safety, had persuaded King Edward to this enterprise. And to show how little dependency his Fortune held on any other, and how without mediation of an ally, he was able to make his own peace; he vowed to conclude none with France, until the English army had been three months at home. After he had thrown forth these disordered speeches, in much discontent he left the King: Who wondered to hear himself to disdainfully entreated: Having, seldom been accustomed to any language, but what was polished to delight by flattery. But they who misliked the Peace, commended the spirit of the Duke, overjoyed to hear their unquiet thoughts, which fear restrained from utterance, so freely spoken.  
But the Count Saint Paul, ascertained of this accord, was seized upon by a far other passion. For by dissembling with these three Princes, in hope to win into love and reputation with the more fortunate; he had offended them all, so far, that he knew not to which confidently to fly for refuge. France was irreconciliable, because he had been ever in practice against the quiet and safety of that state: and who both by the ties of alliance (as having married the sister of King Lewis his wife) and loyalty as who held much Land in France, and executed the place of Constable; being obliged to seek the preservation of his Country; had for many years nourished treason, and sometimes brought the Crown itself to the hazard. Then from England or Burgundy, there was no probability of friendship, both having been deluded by his promises, and in the last business at S. Quintin, provoked to the highest indignation. For although the English only sustained the loss in point of safety, for the present expedition; yet in point of honour, the Duke had his share in sufferance: He having before the King's passage out of England, covenanted for the faith of the Count Saint Paul. But certainly the misery of a petty Prince is lamentable, and his estate most unsafe, when there is any jealousy growing between his more potent neighbours. For Neutrality is incompatible with his fortune, in regard his Country shall then lie open to the spoil of every army, if he deny to declare himself, and if he declare himself; he must run the hazard of another's Fortune. And oftentimes the very situation of his Principality enforceth him to take part, not with the stronger or juster; but with the nearer neighbouring, as in danger of whose rage his estate is most subject. But in addition to the misery of his Fortune, S. Paul had the unquietness of mind, raised up into a high ambition, by the cunning of wit. For he had so many, and so far fetches in his imaginations, and of them some had prospered so much to his advantage; that it made him presumptuous of his abilities to dissemble, and therefore continue in it; till at last the discovery took away all belief from his after pretensions, and happily too from his real intentions. But among the greatest of his misfortunes, is to be reckoned, the time he lived in: For had he not met with so politic a Prince as Lewis of France, who had likewise the start of him in good luck; he questionless might have attained some one of those many designs, he so wittily and probably contrived. But in the conduct of their affairs, Princes shall find a discreet honesty not only toward God, but even to the depraved World, the safest rule of humane actions. For the absolute dissolution of a state was never known to happen by observance of faith or Religion: and seldom in the time of a good Prince, I mean if his goodness were active, not overruled by evil Counsel to misgovernement.  
S. Paul in this distraction of thoughts endeavoured to recover a game quite lost, and made his addresses to the King of England; whom he believed to be of the easiest nature, and from whom he expected less severity, because the King had suffered less than the others by his dissimulation. He therefore first excused the distaste given the English at S. Quintin, casting the whole fault upon the unhappy rashness of his Soldiers billeted in the Town, and the jealousy of the Townsmen: Then he advised him to be wary of giving too much faith to King Lewis, who was resolved after the departure of the English army to observe no covenant: wherefore his safest course would be to demand Yew and S. Valerie to billet his Soldiers in this Winter; which he was secure Lewis his fears durst not deny; and by which grant he would not be necessitated to so sudden a return. Lastly, (observing the avarice of the King's disposition in the last treaty) he tendered him the loan of fifty thousand Crowns, and promise of all faithful service in the future.  
But the memory of former unfaithful passages, and desire to enjoy the pleasures of peace, defend the King so far to these new propositions; that it ended even in scornful language of the offerer, which drove S. Paul into utter despair. For the King was not to be removed from his new begun amity with Lewis, which every day by the interchange of favours, and by labouring to excel each other in confidence, gathered increase. For presently upon conclusion of the Articles between the Commissioners, a truce being made, until the peace were ratified by the oaths of both the Princes; the English soldiers had free admission into all the French towns. And one day so great number of the army went to make merry in Amiens, as might have endangered the surprisal if there had not been faithful intentions in King Edward. But he to show the integrity of his mind, and to take away all occasion of jealousy of any underhand design, sent to King Lewis to entreat him to give order for restraint, if by entering in so large multitudes the soldier endangered suspicion: which Lewis (never overcome in Compliment) refused with many protestations of his confidence; only desiring our King, if he disliked the absence of so considerable a part of his Army from the Camp, to send some Yeomen of his Crown to guard the gates, in regard he was resolved no French man should stop the passage of the English. But our King strained his courtesy much too high, when to outvie King Lewis his favours, he offered to give him a catalogue of all the French Noblemen, who had conspired with S. Paul in this war; and had given faith to revolt to the English. For as in the rule of common justice, this discovery could give no better an attribute to the King than that of state Informer; so could it not but infinitely prejudice the affairs of England; considering it would shut up for ever the passage to all intelligence, if this peace should chance to break hereafter. And indeed by so voluntary undertaking that office, which an honest mind thinks itself unhappy to be forced to, presents his nature to us most ignoble: since this treason was only intentional, and as the state of businesses now stood in France, reconciled to the English, it no way concerned the safety of his new confederate.  
On the other side King Lewis showed himself most affectionate to the English, when, contrary to the circumspection of his nature, he rejected all the suspicions of his Council, who wished him to be watchful that King Edward by pretending this peace, did not betray him to a ruinous security: When likewise he sent such exceeding plenty of all provision to the English Camp, and liberally feasted those so innumerable multitudes, who daily resorted to Amiens. But perhaps some state Critics will interpret the former in him, not a good opinion of our faith; but a conceit of a dull ignorant honesty in our Nation not quick to take advantages: and the later only an obsequious way to continue us in our former resolution for peace. What ever passion prevailed with him in other courtesies, I am confident he expressed more Nobleness then in any other action of his life; When he refused to destroy the English army; having oftentimes so fair opportunity, by reason of the many disorders the truce begot.  
While these passages of endearment lasted between the two Kings, a place convenient for an interview was found out at Picquigny, a Town three leagues from Amiens, standing upon the River Some. Commissioners to provide there should be no danger of treason in the place, for the King were the Lord Howard, and Sir Anthony, S. Leger: for the French, the Lord of Bouchage and Comines. In the choice of which place Comines lays a gross oversight to our Commissioners. For he affirms by reason of a Marish on both sides the causey, on which the King was to come to the Bridge where the meeting was; his person might have been in danger, if the French had not meant good faith. And if this were true, it certainly deserved a signal reprehension; in regard the sad experience of those times taught, there could not be too much circumspection at such an interview: But the success guilty of no infelicity; cleared the Commissioners either quite from the fault, or from much of the blame.  
At the meeting there was as much interchange of courtesy, as could be between two Princes. The French King was first at the grate (for these two Lions could not without danger of combat meet but at so safe a distance) and our King was a Gallant in manage of his body, by bending himself lower at salutation: In which he expressed youthfulness and Court ship. In their language was much of sweetness and endearing, and in their behaviour an appearance of a congratulatory joy. Each labouring to obtain the victory in the expressions of a cordial affection; and indeed the main business took up lest part of the time. Twelve persons of principal name, attended on each Prince according to the nature of the Ceremony, outvying each other in the curiosity and riches of their apparel. On the English side the Duke of Gloucester was absent, in regard his presence should not approve; what his opinion and sense of honour had heretofore disallowed. And that there might be no fraud nor treason; on the English side were four of the French, and on the French four of the English: who watchfully observed every word and gesture: So much jealousy waits upon even the most friendly meetings, and so suspected is the faith of Princes. Eight hundred men at arms attended on the French King, on the King of England his whole Army. Which set in battle array to the best advantage for the eye, afforded a prospect of much delight and bravery to them; who at a more unfriendly encounter would have trembled at the sight.  
The Chancellor of England made an Oration congratulatory for the happy accord: whereby so much blood was preserved in the veins of both people, and so many blessings of peace like to enrich both Kingdoms. His congratulation was intermingled with prophecy of future happiness, which would grow stronger by the age of time; touching in that upon the marriage of the Dolphin with the Lady Elizabeth of England. But the good Bishop of Lincoln (for in him was then the office of Chancellor) in this showed himself a better Orator, than Prophet. Himself living afterward to disprove his own divination.  
After the Oration ended, and the two Kings sworn to the forementioned peace, King Lewis something wantonly (as who knew how to tune his language best to King Edward's ear) invited him to take a journey as far as Paris: where if any of the beauties should make him trespass upon his chastity; the Cardinal of Bourbon (a gentle Ghostly father) should easily afford him absolution. The King in the pleasure of his look approved the faceciousnesse of the discourse; and found no great difficulty in himself to admit the off●r.  
But King Lewis (who never used mirth but as a preparative for something serious) having wrought himself into the King's good liking▪ and as he thought facilitated him to grant any request, urged that the Duke of Britain might not remain in the protection of the English: But that he might be left to his own defence, against the just anger of the French, whom he had so often provoked by open confederacies and secret practices. To which the King answered resolutely that he never would forsake the care of a confederate, who had maintained his faith so constantly. And afterward importuned by some great Lords, employed to that negotiation by Lewis; he not only showed an apparent distaste to the motion: but openly professed, that rather than the Duke should be endangered in his safety, he would forget all other amities, and pass the Seas himself to his relief. Which showed a noble disposition in the King and an advisd judgement: For the Duke had been ever friendly to him in the worst of fortune, and in his better a most faithful neighbour; and in this enterprise on France had used no dissimulation, nor in the least carriage of business betrayed that faith at first he promised. In the protection therefore of him against the French,▪ the King showed the gratitude of his memory; as likewise a politic caution that the Crown of France might not grow too potent by warring with a weaker Prince: whose ruin could not but give to it a dangerous addition.  
But this discourse touching the Duke was in private between the Kings: for Lewis to show the authority he had over his greatest Lords, had commanded them to retire when he entered into this speech. And in treating this business, which so nearly concerned the policy of his intentions, he showed a great art; not urging the King so far, as that the denial might come off with a distaste. But smoothly he gave it over, when he perceived him not easily to be removed: although with some inward difficulty to find his affection so constant to the Duke: of whom he had resolved to make a spoil, and to lay the first stone of his mighty building in his destruction.  
He presently therefore diverted his discourse again to ceremony, and after some short intercourse of courtship they both at the same minute parted from the grate, and took horse: publicly giving very liberal commendations of each other. And how ever interviews are generally esteemed unsafe for Princes; in regard the advantage falling of necessity on the one part, throws a contempt upon the other: yet this was both in probability before and after in the success most fortunate. For both Princes though of different complexions had equal preeminences; and by several ways came to stand upon even ground.  
King Edward had the advantage in youth, personage, and behaviour, which win suddenly upon estimation: Lewis in the cunning of wit, and authority of his carriage, which although slowlier, sink deeper in opinion. Edward had a daring courage ever seconded by a propitious fortune: Lewis a circumspect judgement which ordered businesses so sure, that he left scarce any thing to fortune. Edward by his Sword had brought himself to the present greatness of his state: Lewis by his policy had settled himself in his father's conquests. And indeed so apparent was the equality of these Princes, that they both dispaired to gain any thing by opposition: which made Lewis at any rate desirous to buy King Edward's return; and Edward willing no more to traffic with Lewis, from whom nothing was to be got in the way of bargain: What soever the one did by valour, the other likely to undo by cunning.  
This peace by all conjecture was likely to suffer in opinion at home, where by comparing the fortune of the present with that of former expeditions, expectation promised itself nothing less than the entire recovery of France. To prevent which the King had happily, perhaps judiciously (as who foresaw that the success might end an accord) brought over with him many from London for their wealth of most reputation in the City. These men whom plenty endear to the love of life, soon as he had resolved to decline the present water, he caused to be assaulted every hour with new fears: Representing to their affrighted minds the horror of a battle; the many difficulties of a siege, and the certainty of a timeless death if not by the Cannon or the Sword, yet by the inconveniences of lodging and the weather, which the winter coming on was likely to be most tempestuous: And if beyond hope death were escaped, how cruel might be an imprisonment, and how deep the ransom. Then he gave order that the Enemy should be reported of far more danger than indeed he was, and every night false alarms to be given. And for distrust already held of Burgundy and S. Paul he let it be augmented in the Army; causing rumours to be spread abroad that there was treason in them from the beginning of this enterprise; and that now they were prepared to unite their forces with the French to the utter destruction of the English.  
By which frights he so moulded them to his desires, that they writ back to their friends, the impossibility of any success in the present business, and the great judgement and fortune of the King, if he could conclude a peace, with advantage of honour. The example of this policy King Edward bequeathed to Henry the seventh, who left none of his predecessors arts unpractisd that might advance either his profit or reputation. And so far this desire of peace and delight in it spread itself, that when upon the day of the interview by accident a white pigeon lighted upon the King's pavilion; and there pruned itself after a shower of rain, the Sun shining comfortably, the Soldiers cried out it was the Holy Ghost, who descended in that form, to show how grateful the present accord was to heaven. Which interpretation pleased exceedingly the present humour of the King: Any superstition being nourished in the subject, which tended to advance the reputation of their Prince; especially when his actions are doubtful to be understood.  
The night that ensued the interview many of the English nobility resorted to Amiens; the French affability, and something too of curiosity inviting them. The Lord Howard, who was always foremost in his application to King Lewis, at Supper whispered him in the ear, that he conceived his Master might be persuaded without much scruple to make a journey to Paris; where by a friendly entertainment the new begun amity, might be perfected.  
But the wary King had no desire to bid so dangerous a guest to Paris; for fear the delicacies of the place might invite him, either to a too chargeable continuance there; or to such a love of the French air, that it might persuade him to return hereafter thither, though unbidden. He therefore chid his own overforward straining a compliment, and was forced to the invention of an excuse to take away discourtesy, from denial of that before ceremoniously he had offered: he answered the Lord Howard thereupon suddenly, and to the outward judgement seriously, that he was extreme sorry the necessity of his unsettled state, would not afford him licence for so much happiness: being presently to make an expedition against the Duke of Burgundy. Who was busy in his preparations against him, so that with safety yet, he could not attend the pleasures of peace. Which answer gave but a half satisfaction; but the Lord Howard was devoted to his affairs; and that made the relish of it better with the King.  
But that the King might neither reap all the benefit not yet bear all the blame of this peace, there were few Lords, great in opinion of the state, but shared proportionably in the booty. Even the scrupulous Duke of Gloucester returned not home without a large present both of Plate and Horses. For when he saw the whole stream of the Army flow into King Lewis; either out of curiosity, or in policy loath to particularise an enmity upon himself from so potent a Prince, he went to him at Amiens, where he found a respect answerable not only to the greatness of his blood, but to the extent of his judgement and authority.  
But with him King Lewis dealt with more circumspection; knowing it impossible to win ground upon him by any slight or strength of wit. The good affection of all the other Lords he bought up, according to the ordinary course in Markets: As they were worth more in the King's esteemation, so were they at a higher price with him. The principal men of name who were in pension as we find them in History, were the Lord Hastings, Lord Chamberlain to the King, the Lord Howard, Sir John Cheiney Master of the Horse, S. Anthony, S. Leger, and Sir Thomas Montgommery. Among these, beside the present gifts, he annually distributed sixteen thousand Crowns, and exacted from every man an acquittance for the receipt. Which no man refused, but only the Lord Hastings, denying absolutely that ever his hand should be seen among the King's accounts at Paris; but welcomed still the pension, which without that formality was continued.  
At how high a rate King Lewis prized his amity with England by this profate liberality (a quality so contrary to his parsimonious disposition) is easily to be judged. But how lawful it was in the receivers, I will not too severely censure. For although in this King's reign, as likewise in the time of Henry the seventh, many of the great Counsellors were in pension to Lewis, and afterward to his Son Charles the eight, yet is hard to judge how it could agree with the decorum of their dignity: It being much beneath the honour of a noble mind to owe any part of their revenue to a Prince, whose safety and advantage must never be in the first place of their care. In peace it may happily not carry any appearance of disloyalty, because by their good offices they may deserve that way of gratitude; but in times of jealousy, and especially of enmity it can no way be allowed. For though the Pensioner give no underhand intelligence prejudical to his Country; yet by a certain necessity of gratitude, it stops the freedom of advice, and renders him however undeserving to the one. Rewards are given for forepast merits, pensions to retain in future: he therefore who receives a pension, obligeth himself tacitly to the service of two Masters: And oftentimes the second in his thoughts, is that Prince to whom he owes a natural duty: An extrordinary way of benefit begetting an extraordinary diligence. And hence proceeds that malady in the body of a state, which inclines it so totally to one side: that all injuries how gross soever are connived at from one neighbour; while from another the least shadow of offence begets mortal war. But if these pensions be received with approbation of the King, certainly as they are lawful, so likewise are they less dangerous: for then the state is armed against the advice of such, whom they know to lean to one side: The crookedness of counsel being easily discerned, when not boulsterd up with simulation of integrity.  
And questionless the distribution of these Crowns like a dangerous poison dispersed it in some principal veins of a body, infected the whole Court. And though perhaps the secret resolutions of the King and state were not betrayed to him; yet was his intelligence larger than convenient for so cunning a neighbour: Who out of slight and trivial occurrences, such as were but Chamber talk, could guess at the most reserved counsels. Neither would those so apparent affronts offered by him afterward, have been so patiently dissembled; especially the King knowing him a timorous Prince, and who trembled at the very thought of a return of the English into France; had not they whose advice was most listened to, passionately excused him in every charge the more zealous statists laid to him.  
But these mischiefs the years succeeding were guilty of; for the present the King full of joy and treasure returned toward Calais: And indeed with more than ordinary haste and caution for fear the Duke of Burgundy should attempt any thing upon his retreat. But with safety he both came thither, and sailed to Dover; whence in much pomp he directed his journey to London Upon Black Heath the Lord Major and the Aldermen in Scarlet, and five hundred Commoners in murrey received him; and thence with all ostentation of triumph conducted him through the City to Westminster. And perhaps he gave order the solemnity of his return should be more glorious, to set off the shortness of his stay in France, and the small or no honour purchased there. The vulgar for the most part valuing the glory of the victories according to the information of the Ballad, and the glittering of the Pageants.  
The French King, who ever affected the substance, smiled at these huge shadows: and never quarreled with King Edward what pompous titles soever he assumed in receiving the forementioned sums of money. Willing that he should husband his actions of least worth to the greatest advantage of credit with his people. While he on the contrary, in all businesses never heeded what judgement opinion gave; and so his ends were effected, cared not by what sordid or humble means: Whereupon presently after the departure of the English, notwithstanding the many injuries received from the Duke of Burgundy, he came to treaty, and suddenly to agreement with him: In many points unexpectedly yielding; only that he might revenge himself upon the Count St. Paul, for him he accounted the Conjurer, who by his dissembling charms, had raised those so many and so tumultuous spirits against the Crown of France: And till he were destroyed, King Lewis conceived it impossible to remain safe from civil or foreign war.  
It was therefore agreed between these two Princes that what places had been wrested away in the former troubles, should be immediately restored: and which of the two could first surprise the Count St. Paul, should within eight days put him to death; or deliver him up to the discretion of the other. By which agreement the wretched Lord found how inevitable was his ruin: And considering the vanity of any hope that might persuade to defend himself against so potent enemies he entered into discourse with his own fears, to which he might make his addresses with more probability of safety. And knowing the immovable resolutions of King Lewis, and how impossible it was to deceive a Prince so cunning in the Art; he resolved to make trial of the Duke. Who disdainfully received the first offers of his service; but in the end, overcome by importunity he granted him safe conduct: Relying on which he posted to him, but soon found his ruin by the want of that faith, which himself had never observed.  
For the Duke notwithstanding the safe conduct, gave command he should be imprisoned, and not long after delivered him up to the French King. Who caused process to be made against him; certain Letters written to King Edward and by him delivered to King Lewis, being the chief articles of accusation, by which he was condemned: and for which not long after he lost his head. He embraced death with much resolution, only somewhat astonished to meet it upon a Scaffold; the manner, not the thing itself, amazing him. But the officiousness of the King in delivery of those papers to the condemnation of his wife's Uncle, and a confederate was certainly treacherous and ignoble; and makes his memory sound harsh in the ear of any worthy mind.  
And indeed he was on the sudden become so passionate a debtor on a reconciled enemy▪ and so passionate an enemy of his late friends: That when he understood of the treaty of peace at Veruins between the French King and the Duke, he sent over Sir Thomas Montgomery with instructions if possible to break it off. Who urged that the Duke should not be admitted to treat of himself, but only as mentioned in the King his Master's peace: that if the Duke refused to treat in that manner, and the King any way suspected his own strength; his Master would the next Summer cross the Seas and join his forces with him: Conditionally that half the wages of his Army might be defrayed by the French, for whose service the war was to be undertaken; and that he might be allowed fifty thousand crowns annually in respect his loss would amount to the value, by reason the English Wools at Calais could during that time have no vent into the Netherlands. To such an over officious friendship did his new malice to Burgundy, and the counsel of King Lewis his great pensioners incline him; that he voluntarily offered without respect of glory or hope of profit, to fight like a journeyman for a Prince, whose growth in power could not be but most unsafe even to him, and dangerous to his kingdom.  
This embassy King Lewis received with appearance of much content, congratulating the felicity of his own arts, that had brought the King to so obsequious a respect: but he no way desired to see him any more in France, especially not to pay for his presence, whose absence he had lately bought so dear. He therefore returned many thanks for the offered favour; but withal showed how much too late it came, in regard the truce was already concluded between him and the Duke: from which being now sworn to it, he could recede neither in honour nor religion. But that the world might understand how scrupulous he had been in preservation of the King of England's reputation; the present truce varied not in one point from that sworn at Picguinie: except only that the Duke was admitted to article for himself apart: which indeed was the main thing the King endeavoured to have prevented; since by articling apart, the Duke showed his independence; and that the English by their arms, had no way advanced his business.  
But that this answer might endanger no misinterpretation he liberally presented the Ambassador, and sent over with him the two hostages, the Lord Howard, and Sir John Chiney. For King Lewis continued still in much caution to offend the King, lest perhaps he and the Duke of Burgundy, though now asunder, might like a limb broken and set again, knit the faster. He was therefore diligent to increase every day new discontents between them, and to preserve the English, in their amity firm upon any terms: knowing the Duke by no policy ever to be reduced to a perfect friendship. And so far had his cunning and pensions prevailed, that nothing was more in the vote of the English; then to preserve King Lewis safe in his estate at home, and noble in reputation with us. But among all the ties which kept the King surest to him, the hope of marrying the Dolphin with his Daughter; and this way at least to settle the Crown of France in his Posterity, most prevailed. Of the reality of which article, the French permitted not the smallest occasion to be given for suspicion.  
This intention of entering into war with the Duke of Burgundy, being crossed: the unquiet Nature of some Princes, ever affecting to beget trouble to themselves, that the King might feel no perfect rest, receives the former jealousy concerning the Earl of Richmond. But why the reducing him into this power, should so much perplex the state is beyond reach; unless it were a divination of future accidents, which instructed the King's fears to expect danger from him: who neither in the point of justice nor strength was for the present considerable. For if we look upon his faction at home; the civil wars had ruined them so low, that no person of authority had any relation to him, except the Lord Stanley: who being Father in law to him might perhaps wish his fortunes well, but bore a most faithful mind to the King, in whose especial favour he continued to the last: And if we consider him as his nearness in blood to King Lewis might render him formidable from abroad: Certainly there was no just ground for suspicion: The French being so lately entered into a particular amity with England, and never having afforded either comfort or countenance to the young Earl's exile. Then for any claim to the Crown, the King could not fear him, his title being of so impure and base a mettle, it could no way endure the touch. His Mother, by whom only he could pretend, heir indeed of the house of Somerset, but not of Lancaster, in regard the stream of this descent was poisoned in the very Spring. For John of Gaunt having entertained an affection to Katherine Daughter of Sir Paine de Ruet, during her attendance on the Lady Blanch his first wife: in the life time of his second the Lady Constance, his affection grew into a nearer familiarity, and so happy was he, that his familiarity proved not barren: his Mistress (for to what a servitude doth lust betray a sinner?) making him Father of three Sons▪ and a Daughter. The Duke zealous to reward any that had so well deserved, married his bedfellow to Sir Oats Swinford, and either through impotency or conscience afterward refrained her company. Some years past (she having buried her Knight, and he his Duchess) in gratitude to her former merits being now grown very old, he took her again to his bed, with the lawful ceremonies of the Church: And thus his ancient Concubine became his new Bride: Having righted her honour, to leave no monument of their sin to posterity, he laboured the ligitimation of the children: and so far in the time of Richard the second, prevailed; that both the sentence of the Church and Parliament pronounced them lawful, and enabled to inherit the Lands of their Father, in case his issue by his former wives should fail. The eldest Son of the three, thus ligitimated, was John created Earl of Somerset, Father of John Duke of Somerset, whose sole Daughter and heir Margaret, married Edmond of Haddam, Earl of Richmond, whose Son Henry was now the mark at which all the arrows of the King's suspicion aimed.  
By this Pedigree, to the eye at first appears so me dawning of a title, but certainly it is a false light, such as oftentimes deceives the credulous traveller. For the legitimation by the Church was to take away as much of scandal, as possibly, from the children: and a dispensation only for the benefit of the bastards, without prejudice to the right of any other. For these bastards were not of the common nature, such as after marriage may make legitimate: being not Natural but Spurious; begot in adultery on the one side, and consequently incapable of any benefit by dispensation. Add to this that not being of the whole blood (according to the common Law of England) the house of Somerset was farther of from inheriting any title from King Henry the sixth, than the most remote of the line of York. Lastly, in the very legitimation itself, the children were only made capable to inherit the estate of their Father. The Crown being never mentioned: and for the Duchy of Lancaster they could not pretend, that being the inheritance of the Lady Blanch his first wife, from whom they no way descended, Neither were the Princes of the house of Somerset ever numbered among the Plantaginets, or ever obtained so much as to be declaired heirs apparent, if Henry the sixth; and his Son Prince Edward should extinguish without issue. As Mortimer had got to be before in the reign of Richard the second, and Delapole after, during the usurpation of Richard the third. And if there were any cause of suspicion from the branches of that Family; then was the Duke of Buckingham, much more to be feared: Who was by his Mother heir of Edmond Duke of Somerset, and himself a Prince, mighty in descent otherways from the Crown, as being heir likewise of Thomas Duke of Gloucester, younger Son to Edward the third. Moreover in the faction of a great kindred, and dependency of a multitude of tenants, far more to be suspected: Then an exiled Lord, who claiming by his Mother, could during her life have no colour of a Title.  
But the King found the wound of this jealousy rankle in him, and nothing but Richmond's apprehension to heal it. He therefore most earnestly solicited the Duke of Britain, by his Ambassadors to return him into England. Their motives were, the much good will the Duke owed their Master, who never would forsake his protection; though several ways and at several times most importunately provoked. That he had in answer to the French requests to that purpose protested; that if the Duke were any way endangered by them, personally to cross the seas, and make the quarrel the same, as if his own kingdom were invaded. Then for the innocency of the King's intentions toward the Earl; they affirmed that so far from malice the desire to have him returned into England was, that it merely tended to his present safety and after honour. In regard his Majesty would not only restore him to the possessions of his Ancestors, but endear him in a nearer tye, even by the marriage of one of his own daughters to him, and this blessed way absolutely to root up all the ancient rancour between the houses of York and Somerset. This was the pretention, which though the King no way intended, yet the Almighty afterward made good: to instruct after times, that the deep mysteries of cunning Princes are mere illusions compared with true wisdom; and the disposition of kingdoms is the work of Heaven.  
By this simulation and tender of a large sum of money (for the King had learned how to traffic by example of King Lewis) the poor Earl of Richmond was delivered up to the Ambassadors; and immediately by them conveyed to St. Malos, the next haven Town, where instant preparations were made for his transportation into England. Here fortune, or what is less uncertain, the wind took compassion on his affliction (for the very imagination of the ruin he was betrayed to, had thrown him into a violent Fever) and hindered the Ambassadors from taking ship. Where while they remained joyful in the success of their undertaking, Peter Landois Treasurer to the Duke, in appearance of a ceremonious visit, but indeed to contrive the Earls escape most officiously came to them. For no sooner had the Duke given up this innocent victim to be sacrificed, but some of the Court sensible of the Law of Nations and their Master's reputation, to himself related the injury and dishonour of this action. And so far aggravated the perpetual infamy that would cloud his fame by selling his guest to whom he had promised safety and protection; that the Duke repented the delivery of him, and advised Landois by some art to regain him.  
And indeed Landois undertook the employment readily, willing perhaps to gain the honour of doing one good deed among the multitude of his mischiefs: and likewise to revenge himself upon the evil memory of the Ambassadors, who had forgot by their money to make him an instrument in effecting this treason. This villain (for he was fittest for the business) so ordered the matter, that while he entertained the Ambassadors in a most serious discourse, the Earl was carried into Sanctuary; and no notice given them till he was beyond their reach. Which when they understood, finding themselves defrauded of so great a bargain, and even of the money laid out in the purchase: indignation transported them into bitter language against Landois. But he excused himself of the practice, and laid the whole fault of the misfortune upon their negligence: desiring that their carelessness in losing a prey, might not be cast as a crime upon that respect he had showed them in his visit. And when the Ambassadors importuned him by his authority to force the Earl from the place: he pretended religion to the Sanctuary, which if he should out of honour to the English but offer to violate; so great was the veneration the people hold it in, that they would tumultuously rise to prevent so bold a sacrilege. He advisd them therefore to give over this game lost past play; and prepare their excuse as cunning as possible to satisfy their King. And for his part, to show the zeal he bore to the affairs of England, he would take such order (and he knew it would stand with the approbation of his Master) that the Sanctuary should be severely guarded; whence if the Earl endeavourd an escape it should be into some place of safety, where he should be strictly imprisoned, till the King of England were pleased otherwise to dispose of him. With this plausible discourse Landois left the Ambassadors to sail over, whom the wind, now too late, served to carry back. But the King, notwithstanding the fairest colours they could lay upon the business, and promise on the Duke's part to keep the Earl safe from escape, cast upon them a sour look. Misfortune to a Minister of state procuring for the most part as much disgrace, as if he had been perfidious in the practice.  
Frustrated of his hope to gain Richmond into his power, but yet in part freed of all danger threatening from him, the King to give a lustre to that peace he had settled, began to addict himself to a profuse hospitality: A magnificent way of greatness, in which the Monarches of this Kingdom have in all ages exceeded, all the Princes of Europe. And upon all solemn times, when cessation from labour licenceth the vulgar to admire the glorious outside of a state, he showed a particular bravery to the eye: by presenting as well martial exercises in justs, Tilt, Tournaments, Barriers and the like; as the softer entertainments of wit; full of an elegant curiosity for that time, subject to too much tumult and noise to give birth to the best inventions. But of all solemnities the feast of Saint George, Patron of the noblest Order of the World, was celebrated with most splendour and pomp. Of which our common Chronicles are so liberal in the relation, that they spare my pen the labour.  
Among these delicacies of peace, the King forgot not to please his lust (the bastard of an idle security;) And indeed impossible almost it was, that his appetite flattered daily with all the curiosities of luxury, should contain itself severely within the bounds of modesty. For as by his other actions we may judge, how little trouble his conscience put him to; and therefore not easy to be frighted from sin by Religion: so on the part of his body, they who familiarly knew him affirm) that never man was framed by Nature more apt to the exercise of love, and whom amorous Courtship did less missebecome. But Almighty God took not his natural proneness to lust, for an excuse; but severely punished him in his Sons: Who were both dispossessed of the Kingdom and their lives by their unnatural Uncle: There being so much appearance of right in the Usurper by their Father's incontenency; that even an Act of Parliament was made to bastardise them. And this sad judgement was provoked by the disorder of his lust: to which how can we wonder if so easily he declined, since Majesty seldom admits of any instructions to a severe correction of the appetite? Ambition to extend their dominions, hath been ever recorded the noblest virtue in Princes: Who to lessen a neighbour state too mighty in the growth of Empire, or in hope to conquer some territory, to which the conveniency, not the justice makes good the title; without scruple hazard large armies of their people: And confidently boast the victory, though the war were grounded upon injustice.  
While King Edward lived at home glorious in his quiet, this doctrine was listened to by Charles Duke of Burgundy, in following which he made so many injurious and unfortunate attempts. For after his peace concluded with France, he directed his whole power to the destruction of the Duke of Lorraine. A Prince who in favour of King Lewis, to whose fortune he had devoted his service, defied the Duke of Burgundy, when he lay at the siege of Nuze. And though this design against Lorraine, might carry with it all probability of success; considering the narrowness of the Duchy: Yet as it ought in judgement to have been weighed with the supports of France and other confederates in Germany, it might bear a face of much more difficulty. For it had not only been a perpetual dishonour to King Lewis, but even a disadvantage to his affairs, to permit a free spoil of so near an adjoining country to the Duke of Burgundy: whom for the present a blind revenge transported beyond reason, and made him war with all cruelty, not only against the Duke of Lorraine, where the victory might in some measure recompense the cost; but against the Swissers, because they had sided with Lorraine, and made some irruption into the territories of the Burgonian. The Swissers, a poor people, unknown to the world, confined to a miserable life among their cold and barren mountains: only proud in opinion they had of their liberty, which was rather maintained by the fortune of the country inaccessible almost to an invading army, then by the valour of the people. Against these he led his forces, rejecting all those submiss and deprecatory Embassies sent by them, and that free acknowledgement of their poverty, when they protested all the wealth of their Country summed up to the highest value, would not be able to buy the Spurs and Bridle-bits in his Campe. Fortune in the beginning of this enterprise flattered him to a continuance of the war with prosperous success, intending by that glorious bait only to angle him to destruction. For soon the chance of war turned, and in three battles in one year the unfortunate Duke was overthrown: In the last of which fought before Nancy, he was slain. A Prince who by his alliance, and continual intercourse of business, had much relation to the English: Whose honour and recovery of whose large territories in France, he certainly from his heart desired And when he invited King Edward into France to that purpose, and there failed him of his promised succours, it proceeded doubtless not from any underhand practice or remissness in the undertaking; but only by the misfortune of his Army, somewhat broken not long before at the siege of Nuze. He was therefore a friend to us, if an ambitious man be said a friend to any: or rather so great an enemy to Lewis of France that he loved us only in opposition; and desired our prosperity, because it could not grow without ruin to the French. How just a governor he was in peace appertains little to our knowledge, and the world had little leisure to consider; he was so everlastingly in Arms: In which as he showed great courage and judgement, so likewise did he commit much injustice. And who will examine what licence war gives to injury, and how it imposeth almost necessity of doing wrong; may in some sort excuse him. But his being ever in quarrels, into which he entered and continued, as his passion, not his reason directed him: presents his spirit daring but turbulent, and his valour rash and inconsiderate, and takes away all pardon from his so many errors. The two great blemishes upon his memory, are his cruelty at Granson in Lorraine, where in cold blood he caused all the inhabitants to be killed, the town being yielded to his discretion: And his perfidiousness to the Count Saint Paul whom notwithstanding a safe conduct he delivered up to execution into the hands of King Lewis. The good men who ascribe punishment to the justice of heaven, observe that after these two crimes his fortune left him, and with dishonour death overtook him, when he least expected it. Having at that time in his imaginations so many and so vast designs, that scarce the age and fortune of man had length and power enough to accomplish them all.  
The death of this Prince, having begot so much business in his life, diversely affected all the neighbour countries. Generally according to the custom in private families, every state entertained it with such a passion, as the advantage or disadvantage appeared by it to themselves. Some few out of love to his person, hope of marriage with his daughter, or compassion of humane accidents grieved at the report: But most expressed their sorrow, for the liberty King Lewis had attained by it, no man living now of power and will to oppose him, should he attempt injury, and offer violence to his weaker neighbours. For King Edward was so infatuated by his Arts, that he never startled at this great accident, nor looked how nearly it might concern his own safety. So that notwithstanding he were daily certified of new undertake by King Lewis, he rested quiet, and gave free reins to his injurious ambition. Who soon as he understood of the death of Duke Charles, and perceived how open his countries lay to an invader: Pretended the Duchy of Burgundy for want of heirs male devolved back to the Crown of France, and by the arms of the Duke of Lorraine without further dispute took it in: In the mean time himself seizing upon all Picardy, which for many years had remained in possession of Dukes Philip and Charles. And that he might have yet more occasion of quarrel with an unsettled Lady unable to withstand his opposition; he summoned the Princess Mary Duchess of Burgundy to come in person into France to do homage for the County of Flanders, and her other estates held in chief of that Crown.  
But she knowing how unsafe it was to yield her person up to a Prince who made his advantage of every opportunity, delayed the homage, and stood upon her guard as strongly, as in so disordered a Country was possible. For though she were Lady of many opulent and mighty Provinces, able if not to offend yet to defend themselves against the world; yet were the people stubborn and prone to rebellion, and who by the weakness of some of their Princes heretofore, had purchased to themselves too large immunities. And indeed scarce any town, but had or pretended to have such prerogatives, as debased all authority of government: Which upon every change in state they revived, and endeavoured if possible to redeem themselves from subjection. And this hope, more than ever, now possessed them, considering the unexperience both of the youth and sex of her that ruled: so that by appearance of their churlish carriage to the Duchess, and small preparations against King Lewis, who every day surprised some place or other; they rather desired to be exposed a prey to an insolent and cruel enemy, then endure the mild government of their lawful Princess. She therefore sent Ambassadors to implore aid of King Edward, and declare to him the urgency of her present necessities. Who showed, that their Princess the greatest inheretrix of the world, borne to a large and rich territory; was at the present in a condition beneath the poorest subject that enjoyed but liberty: Being detained captive by the hands, which made restraint far more unsupportable of her own insolent rebels. Her delivery concerned the King of England in general as a Prince; and in particular, as a neighbour and an alley. Her tumultuous subjects, who had dared to attempt and act this treason, took courage from the French Kings declared enmity. An injurious proceeding in a Prince against a neighbour, which justly provokes all Christendom to unite in her defence, and punish so barbarous a proceeding in him. That the ancient league observed with so much Religion between England and the Low Countries, particularly did require his Majesty's present aid: and a consideration of what might happen perhaps in his own posterity in the same nature, did invite him to do favours, as his might challenge to receive them hereafter. That even in the politic discretion of government it was conceived that nearly it concerned the state of England to provide against so dangerous an addition of dominion to the French: Considering King Lewis had already most injuriously wrested away not only Peronne Mountdidier Tournay and all the rest of Picardy sold heretofore to Duke Philip: But seized even upon Burgundy the inheritance of their Princess. And what expresseth the inhumanity of the tyrants, and the hated malice of his intentions, summons her at this present to do homage personally for Flanders and her other territories. Which summons if she obeys; she certainly betrays herself into an everlasting captivity or to a necessity to surrender a large part of her inheritance for redemption: And if she refuseth, she endangers her whole estate to the surprise of a merciless enemy, who never wanted the pretence of justice to justify spoil and rapine. They farther urged how their Princess was not only in her person restrained by her own subjects but had not so much as appearance of any army in the field to oppose the invader. The Soldier being absolutely destroyed in the former unfortunate battles fought by her father in Lorraine: And the faith of all the Commanders who remained, bought up by King Lewis, and turned wholly French, with surrender of the Towns and Forts under their government. And all hope of any Levies at home vain and false, the Commons by practice of the French King every where in tumult: and the few who wished well to their Princess affairs, either not daring to declare themselves, or suffering death or imprisonment for their faith. They concluded with entreaty that the King would engage his arms in so just a quarrel; which as it could not be but most honourable to his name and no way unprofitable, so likewise would it cast a perpetual obligation upon their Princess, and devote her power hereafter to his service.  
This Embassy carried with it every way so much justice, that it begot a general approbation. For the opinion was, that England never had so fair an opportunity to win▪ honour to the nation, relieve an oppressed Princess, check an insoleut and unfaithful neighbour, and provide for its own safety. So that in the Court no person of honour, not corrupted with the French pension, but passionately desired the undertaking: and thought it necessity in every point, to begin this defensive war. But the King in so deep a lethargy that no danger could wake him, nor touch of honour make him sensible; heard this with a fair respect, and dismissed the Ambassadors with some faint comfort. And though he could not perceive what a cloud it would be upon his reputation to permit so foul an injury to the young Princess, and sit still: yet he resolved to listen to the safer counsels of peace, and believe (how improbable soever) the many protestations of King Lewis.  
Who soon as he understood of these addresses to England, which at the very first he expected, dispatched his Ambassadors to undo whatsoever had been wrought by the former solicitation. And whereas the Duchess of Burgundy persuaded this war by the arguments of honour and a generous pity: He dissuaded it, by menacing an absolute breach of the peace sworn at Piguignie whereby the King should be frustrated of his tribute, and the so mighty marriage of his daughter. He showed farther how it was not only against the so near amity begun and likely to continue between them and their posterity, but even against the custom of common confederacies, to hinder a neighbour Prince in league, when he only attempted the recovery of his own right. And if the truth of his actions were laid open to the world, it would appear the reassumption of those towns into the power of France, what interpretation soever they might suffer among the ignorant or malicious, was but an act of justice. Since those many places in Picardy were no way of right belonging to Duke Charles, but permitted him only, to avoid the continuance of war: which was notorious to any man who would but call to memory, how they were mortgaged to Duke Philip. The absolute alienation of them from the Crown having never been either in the will or power of any French King. Then for the Duchy of Burgundy; the original grant and the common practice in French would manifest, that it only was conferred upon the heirs male: which failing in the present Duchess implies a return of it back to the Crown whence it passed at first by an inconsiderate transaction. Lastly that his taking arms was only to recover and justify his right, and reduce the Princess Mary to perform her homage, which never was denied by any Earl of Flanders. And if there be any infidelity or tumult among her subjects; she ought either to blame the evil disposition of her people to rebellion, or the misfortune of her own government.  
This was the effect of King Lewis his answer at first, which the King was joyful to have divulged, because it gave his slowness to action, a spacious show of justice and discretion. But the relief of the oppressed Lady grew so much into the vote of the Commonalty, and even the better sort of people bended so much to compassion, that the French began to suspect the King might be induced to undertake her protection. Whereupon new Ambassadors came with new instructions something more plausible than the former, in which they were to keep the King upon any terms at home: These offered to his Majesty a full relation of King Lewis his proceedings hitherto; with promise to refer it wholly to him, if any violence had been by the licence of war committed. That their Master's aim was so far from injury, that he would submit to indifferent judgement all the passages in this quarrel: and bind himself to any restitution, the King of England should order. For all his desire these Arms was only the reduction of his own, and maintenance of the prerogatives of the Crown of France. And ever among these excuses he mingled some discourse concerning the Dolphin, his so forward growth, and the great expectation of him: something too of the Lady Elizabeth, and the joy all France conceived of the future marriage. Neither was the ceremony of paying the tribute ever omitted at the day, nor the great Lords forgotten to be presented with their precious, and something too of addition to increase their diligence.  
By these Arts he won time, a merchandise he then trafficked for, and the purchase of which so nearly concerned his present design: For it was his, and certainly a politic course, to send often and still several Ambassadors: who, if in their overtures they were contradictory, laid the fault on their instructions, and desired respite, till they had some farther understanding of their Master's intentions: and when any thing new was proposed; they embraced it entreating only time to inform the state of France. But when by frequent treating the business was come oftentimes to necessity of absolute resolution: then suddenly was the Ambassador recalled, and some new person sent to supply his place, wholly ignorant, or at least pretending to be wholly ignorant, of all former passages.  
At the length when he saw there was an impossibility, farther to dissemble, by pretending restitution of whatsoever had been wrested away from the Duchess: He discovered the treachery of his former carriage, and made propositions advantageous to the King's profit. Offering if he would pass the Seas with a full army and join in the quarrel, to defray half the expense of the war, and never forsake the English, until he had settled them in possession of Flanders and Brabant: so that the spoil might be equally divided between the two Kings. In this one overture expressed the deceit of his former purchase; to make which good he tendered so great a brokage. But the King refused this proposition; Not out of conscience unwilling to enter upon estates to which he had no title: Nor greatness of spirit, disdaining to make advantage of the misfortune of a Lady oppressed by an over-potent neighbour, and forsaken by an ungrateful and disobedient people: But only out of consideration of the difficulty. Since the towns were of strength to make resistance against the most powerful Army that every Fort would require much time & charge in the gaining: and if gained would prove as costly and difficult to keep: The people though naturally prone to innovasion, and upon the slightest grounds ready to rebel; yet by no Art to be so tamed, as to endure the yoke of a stranger. And if the conquest was still to be made good by Garrisons of English, the natives being both unruly and unfaithful: It would draw much blood and treasure from England, and return neither honour nor profit. Nevertheless the King offered immediately to declare himself in common league against the Duchess, and to lead over an Army royal into her territories, promising to share in all future danger if he might be admitted to share in what was already conquered. But that the French denied as loathe ever to quit possession: yet never so peremptorily refused any proposition, as to let the English, persuaded by despair, to enter into new counsels; even in their denials leaving some way open to expectation.  
During this time spun out to the utmost length by these tedious negotiations, the French effected their, ends and almost undid the afflicted Princess. Who left no way untried that might lead her into a perfect friendship with the English, and engage their arms to her defence. Among the rest she tried one which being singular in the event deserves a particular observation. Either by her commission, ●or premission, a motion was made of a marriage between her, and George Duke of Clarence who had lately buried his Lady. By which very overture she doubted not but the King ambitious of so ample a fortune for his brother, would run into her quarrel. But, as sometimes Physic misapplyed, it wrought a contrary effect, and with other circumstances procured his ruin. For he having by the levity of his actions weakened his reputation with the world in general, and particularly drawn a hatred from the Queen's kindred upon him, the King and the Duke of Gloucester likewise, having him either in contempt or jealousy; stood in a manner alone So that the very first whispers of this marriage were heard with emulation by some, with scorn by others, and with dislike by all. Which gave occasion that his destruction was suddenly plotted, and almost as suddenly executed. For the King, although he owed his restitution to the Crown when he expelled from England, to the Duke's revolt from Warwick; yet he remembered more perfectly the unnaturalness of his first rebellion: And howsoever he showed outwardly all the arguments of a reconciled brother, yet certainly the memory of the injury at first remained deeply imprinted in his mind. So that Clarence by his after service never regained that place in the King's heart, which his former disloyalty had forfeited. This he perceived and repined against; and the King understanding that he resented the truth, hated him yet the more: And so far grew this hatred, that no discourse was more harsh to the King's ear then that of Clarence's marriage with the heir of Burgundy: By which it was suspected he being enabled with power might hereafter prepare for revenge. For according to the disposition of man he saw all his actions in a flattering glass: Looking upon his revolt from his brother, as on an error of seduced youth: and on his return back, as on so great a merit, that it lay scarce in the King's power to recompense: The King enjoying by it all the greatness he possessed.  
Richard Duke of Gloucester upon whose nature and friendship he built most, deceived him most. For Gloucester who studied nothing but his own purposes, and cared not by what violence all obstacles of nature and friendship were removed, so the way were plained to his ambition; endeavord to add more poison to their discontent: Knowing bad intentions never receive growth but from mischief. He therefore persuaded him to be sensible of the King's neglect, and boldly to express his sufferance: A silent patience being in a subject loyalty; but in a King's brother cowardice. While on the other side he whispered the danger of Clarence his spirit apt to receive any discontent, and wanting only power to seek unlawful remedies. Whatsoever counsel came from him received by the King with more attention and belief; in regard of his great judgement, and professions of love to his brothers. And indeed Gloucester much disdained the advancement of Clarence this way, not that he had any particular ground for malice, but only that he hated any man, and especially a brother, should have the start of him in fortune.  
But the Queen and her kindred shallower in their spleen, spoke loud against him: while Gloucester deep in mischief was not heard to murmur. For they suggested continually to the King with what contempt they were entreated by Clarence; how all their honours were mentioned as mockeries: A● if the King wanted power to confer his favours according to the discretion of his own bounty. They urged the memory of his rebellion at his first marriage with Warwick's daughter, and the much more danger of his intentions in affecting so much greatness in the second. And so far by aggravations of every slight error wrought that the King was willing to have his brother suffer; but only wanted some offence capital enough, to make his death appear an act of necessity and justice, not of plot and malice.  
It is generally received among the vulgar, and wants not the approbation of some Chronicles, that the chief ground of the King's assent to his death was the misinterpretation of a prophecy: Which foretold that one▪ the first letter of whose name was G. should usurp the Kingdom and dispossess King Edward's Children. Of which there is much of probability; however by his other actions I should not judge the King easy to believe in such vanities. For credulity in that nature, falls for the most part upon weak minds, as those of women and children: or upon the timorous, whose apprehensions are softened to receive every slight impression: or upon the overzealous, whom an evil regulated piety bends to superstition. And with these three the King had no participation in honour. Yet this served for the present, and carried with him a strong accusation against the Duke: for this prophecy was alleged to be spoken by some of his servants, who by Negromancy had understood this from the Devil: Which with other circumstances served to hasten the King in this foul mischief.  
The Duke was in Ireland, the Country that gave him birth, during the time of these contrivances, nothing suspecting any design against himself. Upon his return to the Court he understood that Thomas Burdet of Arrow in the County of Warwick Esquire, who ever was dependant upon him and ran his fortune, had been in his absence apprehended, indicted, arraigned and executed all in the compass of two days. The crime upon which his accusation was principally grounded, were inconsiderate words by which upon report that white Buck was killed as the King was hunting in his Park, he wished the head and horns and all in the King's belly, whereas indeed he wished it only in his belly who counselled the King to kill it. With this accusation were mingled many other of poisoning, sorceries, and enchantments: Crimes which every judicious man easily perceived, were only put in the scale like grains, to make his rash language full weight, which otherwise would have been too light to deserve the sentence of death. These proceedings Clarence resented, as they were intended, and expostulated with the King the injustice to his servant, and injury to himself. And according to the custom of expostulations, his words were bold and disorderly, and having received an apparent injury built too much on the right of his cause, and provoked the King too far into indignation. So that soon after he was committed close prisoner to the Tower, where by Act of Parliament attainted, he was secretly put to death: the manner, as it is generally received, was by thrusting his head into a But of Malmsey, by which he was stifled.  
In his attainder, according to the form, are crimes enough to make his death have appearance of justice, the execution of which the King seemed rather constrained to, then to have sought. For there are reckoned, how the Duke of Clarence to bring the present government into hatred with the people, and thereby the present state into trouble; had not only in his speeches frequently laid injustice to the King's charge in attainting Thomas Burdet falsely, convict of many notorious treasons, but suborned many of his servants and divers others, corrupted with money, to divulge the like seditious discourses. That he had spread abroad impious rumours that the King dealt by Necromancy, and upon offence against such of his subjects, whom by order of Law he could not destroy, he was accustomed to take away by poison. That he had not rested there, but whereby to advance himself to the Kingdom, and for ever to disable the King and his posterity from the Crown, had contrary to truth, nature and Religion, Viperlike destroying her who gave him life, publish● that the King was a bastard and no way capable to reign: That to make this his so monstrous ambition more successful and already to begin his usurpation, he had caused many of the King's subjects to be sworn upon the most blessed Sacrament to be true to him and his heirs, without any acceptation of their allegiance: After which so solemn oaths, he discovered to them his resolution to right himself and his followers, who had both suffered by the King's violent wresting away their estates: And in particular to revenge himself upon the King, who (as he most impiously and falsely suggested) had by art Magic ordered to consume him, as a Candle consumeth in burning And, what most expressed that treason of his designs, that he had got out an exemplification under the great Seal of Henry the sixth late King: wherein was showed how by the Parliament it was enacted that if the said Henry and Edward his son should die without issue male, the kingdom should descend upon the Duke of Clarence and his heirs: Whereby clearly appeared his intention, immediately to possess himself of the Crown, with destruction of King Edward and his children by pretention of a general election of the Commonweal. This was the sum of his attainder, which we may well believe had not so easily passed but by the King's public declaring himself, the secret working of the Duke of Gloucester, and the passionate urging of the Queen's kindred. But this Attainder hath in it one thing most remarkable, that Clarence here falsely was accused, by laying bastardy to the King, to endeavour possession of the Crown: Which afterward was alleged indeed by Richard Duke of Gloucester, to the absolute disinherit of the King's Sons. Whereby Gods severe judgement manifests, how unsafe it is in a Prince, by false accusations to condemn an innocent, or but to aggravate the fault of one less guilty, to the end that cruelty, may be reported an act of justice.  
The death of this Prince sudden and extraordinary; begot every where an extraordinary censure: the unnatural severity, taking away all excuse, even from their discourse, who most fa voured the King. At home it was generally condemned, both in regard of the manner, it being prodigious to be drowned without water, upon dry ground; and the quality of the person: He being the first brother to a King in this Country, that ever was attainted. And what increased the murmur, a faction appeared at Court triumphing in his ruin, all the accusations were strangely wrested, and no matter of fact, scarce an intention, proved against the state. Whereupon this punishment was thought to have been inflicted upon him for no new attempt: His first taking part with Warwick, being his only crime. For which war, though somewhat against nature, he had many examples in France, Spain, and other parts of Christendom: Whereas for the death of a younger Brother, upon bare suspicion, the King could borrow no precedent nearer than the Turkish government. But Clarence imagined the prerogative of his birth a sufficient defence against danger, and omitted to fortify himself with faction: which laid him open to every assault of envy. And because he had heretofore been in opposition against the King, the liberty in censuring any defect in government was interpreted a desire to be in arms again. Every word of distaste being held criminal in him for whom the King was alienated by his own disposition, open invectives of the Queen's kindred, and secret trains of the Duke of Gloucester: who now began to look high over all respects of nature and religion. He was certainly ambitious beyond proportion, which made him so attentive to any new counsels, and of an easy nature, which rendered him apt by practice to be wrought to mischief. He was a good Master, but an uncertain friend: which delivers him to us to have been, according to the nature of weak men, sooner persuaded by an obsequious flattery, than a free advice. We cannot judge him of any evil nature, only busy and inconstant, thinking it a circumstance of greatness to be still in action. He was too open breasted for the Court; where suspicion looks through a man, and discovers his resolutions though in the dark, and locked up in se. crecie. But what was his ruin; he was whether the house of York or Lancaster prevailed, still second to the Crown: So that his eye by looking too steadfastly on the beauty of it became unlawfully enamoured: And that being observed by the King's jealousy, he suffered as if he actually had sinned.  
While this mischief was secretly in contrivance against Clarence, in the Court appeared no face, but that of jollity and magnificence. For at that time was Edward eldest son to the King (during Christmas, to mingle the solemnity with liberty) inaugurated Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall, and Earl of Chester; and his younger brother Richard, created Duke of York. The fate of their honour and their ruin, being still the same. At this creation according to the ceremony, many young Lords and Gentlemen of principal name were made Knights of the Bath among whom Brian chief justice of the Common pleas, and Littleton, that learned father of the Laws are registered.  
But the public glory of these extraordinary pomps, and the wantonness of his private pleasures, could not be maintained with the ordinary revenue. Therefore to make good the expense of his own errors, the King began to look narrowly into those of his subjects: that by this art, in a manner, he might sin upon free cost. And as it hath been a certain observation that the most delicate and voluptuous Princes have ever been the heaviest oppressors of the people: Riot being a far more lavish spender of the common treasure, than War or magnificence: so those parts of the King's life, which were wantoned away with variety of delights are noted to have been severest. But perhaps the subject reputes not the free gift of the Kingdom's substance, when he sees the return of it in triumph: but repines if the least part of his contribution, be the reward of parasites, or persons to whom fortune not merit gives a growth. And Historians likewise have more leisure to examine the crimes of Princes, in the silence of peace, then in the noise of war: Or else Princes want opportunity to enclose their thoughts to the study of private gain, when the Soldier in a manner lays the wealth of the kingdom open, and makes a common of every man's particular treasure. For now the King began to cause the Poenall Laws to be put in execution, and wanting higher aims, to look downward into every sordid way of enriching himself: So that a general fear possessed the people, that his after government would be both sharp and heavy: considering the first part of it was not without a foul blemish in that kind. For in the seventh year of his reign he proceeded against many of the wealthiest Citizens with so much severity that it was repoted tyranny. The chief of them were Sr. Thomas Cook, Sr. John Plumer, Knights, Humphrey Hewward and other Aldermen: And their crime in their having given assistance to King Henry. Which considering the circumstance of things could hardly bear any capital accusation had it been clearly proved: but against these men there was no testimony, but what was forced with torture; and even that testimony, not high enough to bring them to the bar; yet the King commanded them to be arraigned of high treason at Guild Hall; and withal expressed an earnest desire that upon any terms they might be found guilty: Their wealth being the principal witness that gave evidence against their lives. But the jury well directed by Sir John Marckham Knight, chief justice of the King's Bench, acquit them of their treason. Which nevertheless released them not, their estates however found guilty; and the greatest part escheated to the King. With the offenders the judge was condemned, and because he preferred his integrity before a severe command, made forfeiture of his dignity.  
The memory of these carriages heretofore in a business that concerned the life of man reputed innocent, drew the world into much fear that he would now decline to rigour. Neither was the King totally excused, although this cruel avarice was laid to the Queen: who having a numerous issue and kindred, by favour raised up to the highest titles; was almost necessitated, for supportance of their honours, to wrack the Kingdom. And happily the universal malice that waited on her and hers, served well for the King: They being as a screen between him, and the unwholesome air of envy: which otherwise might have endangered his reputation with the people.  
From this rugged way he was soon diverted by necessity to look abroad, and perhaps by the gentleness of his nature, or repentance of his former severity. For the face of the world adjoining began von the sudden to change, and while the Kings of England and France, were dividing the territories of the Duchess of Burgundy: a third stepped in, and got possession of her and her rich country. Maximilian, Arch Duke of Austria, son to the Emperor Frederick the third, entertained heretofore politckly by Duke Charles was now seriously invited to this marriage. For the Lady despairing to receive succours from the English, to the affection of whom she was perhaps inclined by the neighbourhood of the country, and persuasion of the Duchess Dowager whom deservedly she much honoured; condescended in the end to the desire of her subjects: who ever laboured to marry liar to some Prince of Germany, in regard of the nearness in language and concordance in dispositions. And although the hereditary countries of this Prince lying far remote, were unlike to be any support to her weakened state: yet considering him as son to the Emperors and in probability like to succeed (for in an elective Kingdom scarce ever is the heir put by, if equally deserving) he might appear necessary to her present affairs. For he was young of a noble spirit, strong and healthful in constitution, bold in any attempt of honour, and what won upon the affections of the Low countrymen extraordinary affable and courteous. I know both his actions and the histories of that time deliver him to us of no deep judgement, and so negligent that he ever left things imperfect, oftentimes in main business betrayed by his credulity. But this I impute to him as an error of the climate under which he was borne, and a certain generous honesty, which is above suspicion. The motion of this marriage was embraced with much joy, to accomplishment of which he instantly prepared. Neither could King Lewis with all his Engines batter the resolution of the Emperor, who though a most passionate lover of peace (which oftentimes he bought with loss) ran the hazard of a war from France, rather than let his son lose the advantage of so great a Country. And suddenly sent him to the Duchess, attended by many great Commanders, who among a people so oppressed with arms, would be the best witnesses of a marriage. His presence, although it did not absolutely turn the stream of Fortune, yet gave a stay to the French conquests: And after he appeared in the quarrel, victory doubtfully inclined, sometimes flattering Maximilian, at other time's King Lewis: Maximilian by his brave valour, overtaking Lewis who had the start in experience and policy. So that frequent truces were concluded between them, and unfaithfully observed: the first opportunity of advantage renewing the war.  
Lewis handled these businesses apart, never admitting King Edward, though he ever officiously laboured to interest himself, into any part of the war of peace. For as he knew the strength of his understanding such, that he in treaty could lose nothing by the Archduke; so he well considered, that the safest way to preserve the English in amity, was to keep them at home. Whereupon he frequently entertained the King with Embassies full of courtesy, such as might appear rather the arguments of a sincere friendship, than the forced expressions of ceremony. And ever communicated with him his private counsels, requiring his faithful advice, when indeed he reserved his resolutions of any high nature wholly to himself, & all in the conduction of affairs, though he would listen to the opinion of King Edward, he still obeyed his own. But this, with his other Arts continued his reputation good with the English, and purchased that quiet, he suspected might by our arms be interrupted.  
And what rendered his security the more, troubles begun between us and Scotland: which we may well believe he underhand increased. The occasion of them was, the evil inclination and ungovernd spirit of James the third, who disdaining to listen to the temperate counsels of sober men, obeyed only his own judgement; which passion threw headlong into rash attempts. The freedom of advice by the Lords of that country used toward their Princes, rendered the speaker hateful; and frequently was rewarded with imprisonment or exile; if not with death. Among the multitude of them disfavoured by him; Alexander Duke of Albany the King of Scotland's brother banished into France resented the injury, and endeavoured revenge. So that as he passed through England towards his exile; being admitted to the King by all arguments he incensed him to a war; Which could not but prove most successful, the hatred of the Commons considered, against so violent an oppressor. And he protested that he knew the King fall'n into so low esteem even with those he cherished, and into such hatred with all mankind; that if assaulted by the English, he would be constrained, by submission of his Crown to entreat for safety.  
This importunity of the Duke of Albany soon prevailed with the King: who by many injuries had been exasperated, and had only waited opportunity to war upon Scotland. For the boders on the English side had been often infested, and upon complaint no redress, nor reparation of damage. Moreover the King having heretofore condescended, upon a motion from King James, that his second daughter the Lady Cicilie should marry James Prince of Scotland; and upon the agreement paid in a large part of the portion: had received no satisfaction to his expectation The Articles of marriage neither being performed; nor yet the money lent, upon the bonds of the Provost and Merchants of Edinburgh, according to covenants repaid. He was therefore the sooner won to undertake the business, which he committed to the order of the Duke of Gloucester, who now had no competitor in greatness both of judgement and power: No Prince of the house of York remaining, but such whom the want of years, or love of ease indisposed to action. For the King willing to decline labour, waved the expedition; and Gloucester ambitious to gain opinion, especially with the Soldier, most forwardly undertook it. The King desired to live to the best advantage of his pleasure: Gloucester of his honour. And indeed Gloucester began now like a cunning Physician to examine the state of the King's body, which though he found strong and healthful, and by the ordinary reckoning of men likely to continue many years, yet withal he observed evil symptoms of death in him, being overgrown with fat, and both in his diet and lust subject to disorder. Disorder a greater enemy to mankind, and which hath destroyed more than age, the sword, or pestilence. This Gloucester perceived, and hence drew poison, which swelled his ambition higher.  
He therefore with much alacrity prepared for the war, and with the title of Lieutenant General soon after set forward toward Scotland. The Army consisted of two and twenty thousand five hundred, all commanded by men of great authority or experience. Of the nobility in his retinue went Henry Earl of Northumberland, Thomas Lord Stanley, Lord Steward of the King's house, the Lords Level, Graistock, Fitzhugh, Nevil, and Scroop of Bolton: Of Knights, Sir Edward Woodvile, brother to the Queen, Sir William Par, Sir John Elrington Treasurer of the King's house, Sir James Harrington, Sir John Middleton, Sir John Dichfield and others. The particular names of whom I mention, only to show how great a shadow Gloucester began to cast toward the Sunset, both of the King's glory and life. The Vanguard was led by the Earl of Northumberland, the Rearward by the Lord Stanley, the Main battle by the Duke himself: In whose company was the Duke of Albany: Gloucester willing perhaps to have him still in sight; lest if apart, with sale of the Army, he might purchase his own peace.  
Their first attempt was upon Berwick (surrendered heretofore by Queen Margaret to gain a sanctuary for King Henry, when expelled England) into which partly by terror of their Forces, partly by the suddenness of their approach, they entered without opposition. The town was soon at their discretion; but the Castle, the strongest Fort then in the North, by the Earl Bothwell, was made good against all battery. Gloucester foreseeing by the strength both of the place, and the Commanders resolution, that this siege would spend much time, committed the charge to the Lord Stanley, Sir John Elrington, and Sir William Par, with four thousand Soldiers: while he with the body of the Army marched higher into Scotland; persuaded, as indeed it happened, that they might force the King of Scotland either to an inglorious flight, or else for safety to lock himself up in some strong hold. By which they might so imprison him, that his release should not be without a full discharge for all injuries both against England and the Duke of Albany. And according to expectation it happened, the King upon the first rumour of an enemy, enclosing himself in the Castle of Edinburgh. For in his government having not studied the safety of his people (which is the supreme Law given to Kings) he found himself now forsaken by them. So far that in opposition to the English, against whom the Scots ever showed a fair resolution, no Army now took the field: the Country lying open to the mercy of the invader.  
Gloucester therefore, burning many towns by the way to strike a terror, in the inhabitants; marched directly to Edinburgh: into which he entered, receiving such presents as the Citizens offered to him: for at the entreaty of the Duke of Albany, he spared the town from spoil. His entry was only a spectacle of glory, the people applauding the mercy of an enemy, who presented them with a triumph, not a battle: and welcomed him as a Prince, who took arms not for pecy or malice, but for the safety of a neighbouring kingdom, disordered and laid waste more by the licence of a tyrant in peace, than it could have been by the hand of war. The Lords of Scotland considering the danger of their state and desirous to prevent ruin, sent from Hadington to the Duke of Gloucester to entreat a suspense of arms, and to desire a firm peace in future. They there offered, if the occasion of beginning this war, were as it was pretended; to give the English full satisfaction: So that he could have no colour of continuing in hostility, but only a desire to execute his indignation upon a Country, already sufficiently destroyed. For concerning the marriage, they were prepared when it should please the King of England to accomplish it: And for any other injury offered to the English, they were ready to make restitution. The Duke of Gloucester returned in answer, That his coming thither was to right the honour of his Country, often violated by the Scots, and restore the Duke of Albany unjustly commanded to exile, to his native soil and the dignity of his birth. As for the marriage of the Prince of Scotland with the daughter of England, he knew not how his brother's resolution stood at the present: whereupon he required repayment of the money lent to their King upon the first agreement. And withal a delivery of the Castle of Berwick up into his hands; without which he protested to come to no accord. But the Scottish Lords laboured by all means to have avoided the surrender of a place so important, by pretending how anciently it ever appertaind to their Crown, by parting with which now they should appear at too dear and base a price, to have purchased peace. No argument could prevail against Glocesters' resolution; whereupon they yielded Berwick, with covenant too by no Art hereafter to labour the reduction of it. They likewise appointed a day for restitution of all those moneys lent by King Edward, and promise upon a full discussion, to make satisfaction for all damages done the English by any inroade of the Scottish borderers. And for the Duke of Albanies' provision, whose safety in this expedition was principally pretended; a general pardon for him and his followers was granted together with an obolition of all discontents: Whereby he was reinvested in all his former dignities and places: and by consent of the nobility of Scotland proclaimed Lieutenant of the Kingdom.  
With this Lord the Duke of Gloucester endeavoured a most entire friendship, and by all industry employed for his advancement in authority, studied how to make him firm to his purposes, if occasion should hereafter present itself to require his aid: And questionless, howsoever the fortunes of these two Dukes accorded not in every point, yet there was in their ambitions some kind of sympathy. Both being brothers to Kings, and both the Kings by the insolency or licen●iousnesse of their actions become obnoxious to a public scandal. But Albany had the advantage in a more deserved and universal hatred to the King his brother; whereby he might not improbably expect to be King in fact, however his brother were in title. And Gloucester had the start in that the King his brother's ease apparently tended to the shortening of his life; and then he, remaining the only Prince of the blood fit to govern, was not unlikely to govern as King both in fact and title. To the advancement of any such design, a perfect amity with Scotland, Gloucester could not but imagine most necessary.  
Haying therefore settled businesses there with all increase of glory to the English name, (and by consequence to his own) he returned to Berwick; which according to the former agreement had been yielded to the Lord Stanley. Thence in all solemnity of greatness he came toward London, to yield an account of his prosperous enterprise. By the way permit the honour of this action to be divulged to the greatest applause, whereby to insinuate his reputation into the opinion of the Commons: and to show how much more nobly he in this expedition against Scotland had managed the peace for honour of the English nation; then his brother had in his undertaking against France. Considering that in lieu of a little money, which King Edward got from King Lewis; he had taken the only place of strength whereby the Scots might with safety to themselves have endangered us: And brought them to what conditions he appointed, forcing the King to immure himself, while the English at liberty spoilt the Country, and possessed themselves of his capital Town of Edinburgh. And farther by Glocesters' flatterers it was urged, that if their General had but had commission ample enough, he would not have returned without reduction of the kingdom of Scotland to the Crown of England. Obedience to a superior command fixing so sudden a period to his actions. And certainly in this expedition the Duke of Gloucester laid the foundation of all his after achievements: for here having by a free spoil of every town, except only Edinburgh, purchased the affection of the common Soldier; whose aim in war is gain and licence: and by sober order and great courage, together with a brave zeal ever to bring honour to his side, won estimation from the nobler sort: he began to imagine himself reputed generally only unhappy in wanting a good title to the kingdom. The difference between him and his brother, the one possessed, the other deserved the Crown. And his thoughts farther flattered him, that it could not prove hereafter difficult, upon any handsome occasion to persuade the people, who already thought him worthy, also to think it fit to make him King.  
But these his black intentions came not yet to light: and indeed they were so monstrous, that they would not only have manifested the ugliness of their shape had they now appeared; but like imperfect and deformed births, been buried, soon as produced. Cunningly therefore by simulation of a most serious love to his brother, and publicly ascribing the whole glory of the action to his direction, he declined suspicion. Being welcomed by the King with all the demonstrations of joy; who congratulated his own felicity in having with so little charge and no loss, tamed all the insolency of the Scots, and reduced Barwick. He therefore to show how much he approved the conditions of the peace, went solemnly in procession from Saint Stephen's Chapel accompanied with the Queen and a mighty retinue of the greatest Lords into Westminster Hall: where in presence of the Earl of Angus, the Lord Grey, and Sir James Liddall Ambassadors extraordinary from Scotland the peace was ratified.  
During the war with Scotland, and after the conclusion of this peace, the King discovered to the people his natural disposition. Which being bountiful and courteous, far from the proud state then in practice with the Tyrants of the East; begot a general affection: and made the subject comparing their felicity, with the misery of their fathers to bless the present government. The administration likewise of the Laws being orderly, without violence or partiality, caused all the former injustice to be cast either upon the licence of war, or the predominancy of some faction: The King absolutely quit, in opinion. And even from lust, which was reputed his bosom sin, toward the later end of his life, he was somewhat clear: Either conscience reforming him, or by continual satiety grown to a loathing of it: for the abstinence could not be imputed to age, he at his death not exceeding two and forty. But what endear him so much to the affection of the people, and especially to the Citizens of London, was his being rich by his tribute from France, and therefore not likely to lie heavy on them: as likewise the so famed bounty of his hospitality: Two thousand persons being daily served in his Court at Eltham, where most solemnly he celebrated the feast of the Nativity. And to recompense the great love which in both fortunes the Londoners had showed him, to his last hour he used towards them a particular kindness: Even so much, that he invited the Lord Major and Aldermen, and some of the principal Citizens to the Forest of Waltham, to give them a friendly not a pompous entertainment. Where in a pleasant Lodge they were feasted, the King himself seeing their dinner served in: and by thus stooping down to a loving familiarity, sunk deep into their hearts: ordinary slight courtesies, ordered thus to the best advantage, taking more often even with sound judgements then churlish benefits. And that the sex he always affected might not be unremembered, he caused great plenty of Venison to be sent to the Lady Majoress and the Alderman's wives.  
Thus was the outward face of the Court full of the beauty of delight and Majesty: while the inward was all rotten with discord and envy. For the Queen by how much she considered herself more unworthy the fortune she enjoyed, by so much she endeavord in the exterior height of carriage, to raise herself: foolishly imagining pride could set off the humility of her birth. She was likewise (according to the nature of women) factious: as if her greatness could not appear clear enough without opposition. And they she opposed were the chiefest both in blood and power: the weaker she disdaining to wrestle with, and they fearful to contest with her. But what subjected her to an universal malice, was the rapine, the necessary provision of her kindred engaged her to. For they being many and great in title could not be supplied according to their ambition, but by so common an injury as made her name odious through the kingdom. Moreover the Lords of her blood, by reason of their nearness to the King's children being insolent, and in regard of their youth, indiscreet; frequently ran into those errors which betrayed them to the public scorn or hatred. Against the Queen (for through her kindred they aimed at her) opposed the Duke of Gloucester, the Duke of Buckingham, the Lord Hastings, and others of the most ancient nobility. And to render odious her and hers, Gloucester laid the death of the Duke of Clarence (which fratricide himself most barbarously contrived) altogether upon their envy: pretending a more than ordinary causion for his own safety, lest his person might by the same practice be brought in danger. By which calumny he both cleared his own reputation, and clouded the fame of a faction he endeavord so much to ruin. But this side had much the start in opinion and policy, over the other who were young, and unexperienced: and precedent of whose Council was a woman.  
To compose these quarrels begot the King much trouble: neither could he without extreme anxiety hear the continual complaints of persons so considerable both in power in the kingdom, and kindred to his children▪ not knowing to how dangerous a height, this discord in time might grow. But to increase his discontent everyday his jealousy increased concerning King Lewis his faith who now began to unmask his intention, and show how much he had deluded the English. For having ever since Maximilians marriage with Mary Duchess of Burgundy been upon unkind terms with him: sometimes at open war, other times in an unfaithful truce, he was now growing to an absolute peace. And the conditions were whispered contrary to the treaty Piquignie: which made the King suspicious they two might enter into some league prejudical to the honour of the English. For Maximilian having kept Lewis all the life time of his Lady, from any further encroach upon her territory, and by his fortune won into opinion with the French, grew to be must desired in the nearest friendship by them: And he having buried his Duchess (who owed her death to her modesty, in respect that having broke her Thigh by a fall from a Horse she denied to expose it to the sight of Surgeons) was willing to stand upon good terms with France. Knowing how slender and how unfaithful an obedience those Countries would yield to a Prince, who was to rule by courtesy since to their natural Lords, they had ever showed themselves insolent and rebellious. These considerations prepared both sides to peace, & the conclusion of it to beget a more perfect amity was that the Lady Margaret a child of two years old, daughter ●o Maximilian and the Duchess of Burgundy should be affianced to the Dolphin, then upon the age of twelve. So that King Lewis in the marriage of his son, was ever most disproportionable: the daughter of England as much too old, as this Lady too young: but indeed his end was the same with Charles Duke of Burgundy and many other worldly fathers, to match his son for the best advantage of his profit and convenience.  
To confirm the uncertain rumours of this perjury in King Lewis, the Lord Howard returned out of France, and made relation, how he saw the Lady Margaret brought with all pomp and ceremony to Ambois and there married to Charles the Dolphin: And to heap yet more injuries, not long after the tribute hitherto so carefully paid, was denied. The French now disclosing the innated malice they bore the English, and with how little scruple they could dispense with the most solemn oath, when no apparent danger threatened the crime: For though the Dolphin when he had attained to the age of consent, might have broke off this marriage; and it could have been only termed an act of discourtesy: yet King Lewis who had sworn to this Article with so much ceremony, cannot be excused from a most foul impiety.  
But what reason of state prevailed with him, who heretofore awed by his fears had condescended in a manner to compound for his kingdom, thus now to slight the English is not delivered in history. And it may appear difficult, considering King Edward was now, if possibly, more absolute in his command at home, his people better disciplined, and no appearance of an enemy from abroad. Add to that, his Coffers full increased every year by the tribute from France, and his reputation high, by the victory lately purchased against the Scots. A nation though inferior to the French in the riches and extent of territory, yet in martial courage equal: and in warring with whom, we have found more sweat and danger. It is therefore hard to know the cause of King Lewis his proceedings in this injurious way, if we look on ourselves only as at home: But if we consider the state of businesses abroad, we may easily discern his policy. For now had the French Arts or the change of time quite dissolved all our confederacies, and left us to maintain with our own arms our own quarrel. Saint Paul was annihilated, in whose death expired all the discontents of the factious Nobility in France.  
The Duke of Britain by an extreme melancholy (which scarce was reputed less than madness) was become unfit for government, much less for any great attempt: And being overcharged by the practices and arms of the French, in a manner made resignation of his Duchy to the disposition of some officers easy to be corrupted. And Burgundy (which in the victories of Henry the fifth, had so much advanced the English enterprises) was by the last league with Maximilian wholly at the devotion of the French. So that all they who heretofore had brought us over, were now either reduced to be unprofitable for our aid; or else become enemies should we renew our ancient quarrel. Moreover the long ease the King of England had lived in, and the pleasures with which he appeared altogether fascinated, rendered him to the world nothing formidable. And King Lewis having with so little difficulty hitherto deluded him, and retained him in a kind of servile amity, while he threw injuries thick upon him; was now heightend to a presumption, that the English would either connive at this affront, or that by some new cunning they might be appeased, were the indignity never so much resented. And if the worst should happen, the French nothing feared the enmity: Considering that King Edward alone, would be unable to prevail against them seconded by the forces of Maximilian, whom his daughter now interessed in the war.  
These considerations of security to do wrong according to the nature of wicked Princes, made King Lewis so boldly attempt it: And what was strange in a man so cunning, he left himself no excuse for the fact, either in the way of honour or conscience: And scarce in humane policy. Unless his expectation reached beyond common reason, in thought that Prince Philip, Son to Maximilian, and the Duchess (for she was mother only to a son and a daughter) might chance to die, and thus by the Lady Margaret all those large countries devolve into the power of France. But how slight soever King Lewis his opinion was of the English, this breach of faith was no sooner related to King Edward, but he resolved severely to take revenge.  
And calling together all the Counsel and Nobility, who for the suddenness could be convoked, he to this purpose made a remonstrance of his wrongs and intentions how to right himself.  

My Lords,  
THe injuries I have received are divulged every where, and the eye of the world is fixed upon me, to observe with what countenance I suffer. And I must confess they are of so strange a nature, that I remain rather amazed, then enraged: Had I dealt with any Prince not civilised by Laws, or enured to commerce; I had yet the Religion of so many oaths, and the reason of every politic circumstance so clear, that I could no way have suspected this foul and foolish breach of faith. But in a Christian King (and who pretends to be most Christian) I have met with so horrid a perjury, and so disgraceful to our Nation; that as all mankind must abhor him as barbarous, so in my own particular I must neglect the principal office of a Prince, if I omit to Chastise him. Most of you (my Lords) are witnesses to the solemnity of his vows, when humbly he declined ruin to his Kingdom: and I to avoid so great a massacre as the war would have endangered, condescended to end all controversies by accord. My clemency is now become my scorn: and I reap indignities where I sowed favours. For this ungrateful man: Prince I must not term him, who hath by perjury forfeited that sacred title: in contempt of all Law both humane and divine, denies not only the marriage of the Dolphin to our daughter, which would have proved so great an honour to his blood and security to his Kingdom; but even the annual tribute of fifty thousand Crowns; A slender rent for so large a country, as by our permission he hath hitherto enjoyed.  
This contumely I am resolved to punish; and I cannot doubt success; Almighty God strengthen still his arm, who undertakes a war for justice. In our expeditions heretofore against the French, what prosperity waited upon the English Arms, is to the world divulged: and yet ambition then appeared the chief Counsellor to war. Now beside all that right, which led over Edward the third our glorious Ancestor, and Henry the fifth our Predecessor, we seem to have a deputieship from Heaven, to execute the office of the supreme judge in chastising the impious.  
When we were last in France, an innate fear in this false man forced him down to a sordid purchase of security: How low will a wicked conscience, (which even makes the valiant, cowardly to tremble) bend him now? Now when an implacable resolution for revenge sets a far sharper edge upon our Swords. Now when he hath no hypocrisy left undiscovered, nor subterfuge for his former perjury, nor Art to gain belief to new dissimulation: Now, when our ears shall be deaf to all submission, and when our conscience is so well resolved for the necessity of this war; that mercy will be thought a vicious lenity, and the most savage cruelty, but an act of justice.  
I need not repeat how much age hath infirmed him (And indeed I think it was his dotage committed this so foolish crime) nor yet how hated he is rendered abroad by his unfaithful dealing, at home by his severe government. The Commonalty sunk down by his heavy impositions; the Nobility by his proud neglect, exasprated to desire any innovation. But we want not advantage; in the justice of our cause, and valour of our people we have enough.  
It is confessed our confederacies are quite dissolved: And I rejoice in that alone we shall undertake this great business: For experience in our last attempt showed, that Princes of several nations (however they pretend the same) have still several aims: And oftentimes a confederate is a greater enemy to the prosperity of a war, than the enemy himself: Envy begetting more difficulty in a Camp, than any opposition from the adverse Army. Our Brother of Bungurdy and Uncle of Saint Paul are both dead. How little their amity advanced us, nay how a just jealousy of their secret practices hindered our design then on France, you all may well remember. And how in our return toward England, we had more fear to have been assaulted by their traitorous weapons, then by any arms from the enemy. But we will spare their memory: they laboured their own safety, not our glory. This I am secure, that as by death they are rendered unprofitable to us, so likewise not dangerous. And as for Britain if his weakness disable him to our aid, I am confident it will continue him a neutral. Neither is it to be forgot, how securely now we may leave England rather than heretofore: Considering our so entire friendship with the Scots: whose hostility was always sharp upon us at home, when we attempted victory abroad.  
But I detain you, by my speech, too long from action. I see the clouds of due revenge gathered in your brow, and the lightning of fury break from your eyes: Which abodes thunder against our enemy. Let us therefore lose no time, but suddenly and severely scourge this perjured coward to a too late repentance: and regain honour to our Nation, and his Kingdom to our Crown.   
The Lords resented the affront with an indignation high as the Kings, and desired that instant preparations might be made for the war. But above all, the Duke of Gloucester appeared zealous in the quarrel: expressing aloud his desire that all his estate might be spent, and all his veins emptied in revenge of this injury. All the Court was presently for the design, and the whole Kingdom with a fierce appetite desired to arm. So that no language was heard but martial; and all the gallantry, in new armour or other conveniences for service. The King most passionately pursued his determination, and that very spring resolved to begin the war. But he was diverted on the sudden from calling King Lewis to a reckoning for this crime; and summoned by death to give a strict account of all his own. Death arrested him, and in the respect of not many hours, instracted him in more than all the oratory from pulpits had done for forty years. For soon as he found himself mortally sick, he began to consider the vanity of all his victories, which with the expense of so much blood he had purchased; and to the heart repented his too hard bargain. He looked back upon the beauty of his sensual pleasures; and now discerned it was only fair in the outside, inwardly rotten and deformed. He cast up the accounts of his tribute both at home and abroad, and all those treasures gathered either by proscription of his enemies, or exacting from his subjects, and found himself a banckerout. For till now, he wanted leisure to search into that which most concerned him: and delighted too much in the pomp & pleasure of the Inn where he was not to stay, forgot he had a journey, and unawares was overtaken by night: an endless night, which no day succeeds.  
Perceiving his doom inevitable and no hope of the least reprieve: he began to order business as fully as the shortness of the time would licence. The great affair of his soul, & indeed the only that is necessary, he committed to the mercy of his redeemer: and by the Sacraments then in use with the Church in England and a real contrition he laboured, a full expiation of the crimes and errors of his life. And as his death is described to us by an excellent author who lived near his time: Almighty God seems to have struck water even from the Rock (as by Moses Wand he did for the Israelites) in touching this Prince to the heart, and forcing a most religious penitence, from a soul obdurate in sin, as we may conjecture by his life.  
The revenge of the injury he received from King Lewis, he referred to the judgement of heaven, whose work it is to punish perjury. And Lewis suffered for it according to his demerit: for that son in marrying whom he so busied his imaginations, and slighted all faith and religion, lived but a short space, and died issueless. Not one branch remaining of that great tree, whose root was in perjury and dissimulation.  
The protection of the King and Kingdom he left to the Lords nearest in kindred to his children, advising them to amity and concord. By which the nation would flourish in greatness abroad and safety at home: The young King be secured from flattery, and instructed in the best discipline for government: And they themselves live is much honour and felicity, i● united to advance the Commonwealth and oppose all foreign danger. Whereas discord would beget civil war, and that endanger ruin. So that this Christian King like Christ himself, when he departed bequeathed peace to the world. And had this doctrine been as zealously followed, as it was uttered; the succeeding time had not been guilty of so many sad confusions. But for the present a perfect reconciliation appeared, both sides lovingly embracing, and protesting all amity in the future. So that with comfort he forsook the world, and may well be said to have deserved a general applause, in this last scene of his life.  
Among his words of farewell at his death, it is worthy observation; that he solemnly protested his repentance, for obtaining the Crown with so much blood, as the necessity of the quarrel spilt. Which certainly shows a most singular piety, considering the indubitable justice of his title: And withal teacheth Princes a new lesson, that the power of sway, great men so superstitiously adore, is but the Idol of folly and ambition: Whose oracles delude the living, but on our deathbeds we discern the truth, and hate the irreligion of our former error.  
Concerning the occasion of his death there is much variety in opinion: for by several authors, it is severally imputed to poison, grief, and surfeit. They who ascribe it to poison, are the passionate enemies of Richard Duke of Glocesters' memory: Who permit not nature at that time to have been obnoxious to decay; but make thè death of every Prince an act of violence or practice: And in regard this cruel Lord was guilty of much blood; without any other argument, condemn him for those crimes, from which he was however actually most innocent. The French affirm it to have proceeded from grief conceived upon repudiation of his daughter, and detention of the tribute. But they looking on our affairs a far off, mistake the shadow for the substance, desirous perhaps that King Lewis should kill a King of England by a new weapon: And certainly Lewis did persuade himself that King Edward was slain this way; and congratulated his wit, much in the accident. But this carries not the least appearance of probability: Great sorrows kill for the most part suddenly, else by a languishing decay of nature: whereas King Edward died not presently upon the report; nor yet drew melancholy from this injury, but a brave anger fierce to seek revenge. Moreover grief hath the● been observed most powerful over life; when the disconsolate hath no ear to which he may express himself, and no hope left for remedy: whereas King Edward breathed forth passions to his Council, and found in them a sympathy both in the sorrow and the rage: And as for revenge, certainly the state of England was never better prepared to exact it: The King being a valiant and fortunate leader; the people enured heretofore to the exercise of Arms, and never so forward to any quarrel, as against the French, from whom they ever reaped victory and treasure: And concerning money the strength of an Army, the Exchequer was full enough, without any burdensome imposition, to begin the war.  
It was therefore questionless a surfeit brought this great Prince so suddenly to his end. For who observes well the scope of his pleasure, finds it to have been placed much in wantonness and riot, the two mighty destroyers of nature: And commonly those excesses with which we solace life, we ruin it. He died upon the ninth of April 1483. at his Palace of Westminster: and was interred at Windsor. Sixtus the fourth being Pope, Frederick the third Emperor, Fardinand and Isobella King and Queen of Arragon and Castille, john the second King of Portugal, james the third of Scotland, and Lewis the eleventh of France. Between whom and King Edward as there was much intercourse in business, so was there great concurrence in fortune. Both began and ended their reigns in the same years: both were held in jealousy by the precedent Kings, Edward by King Henry, Lewis by his father Charles the seventh; both had titles disputable to the Crown: The house of Lancaster usurpiug against Edward; the house of England claiming against Lewis. Both were perplexed with civil war, and both successful: Lewis infested by an insolent Nobility; Edward by a Saintlike Competitor. Lewis victorious by act, Edward by courage. Both were rebelled against by their own brothers: Lewes by Charles Duke of Berry, Edward by George Duke of Clarence: And both took a severe revenge, Lewis freeing himself from so bosom an enemy by poisoning Charles; Edward by drowning Clarence. Both ended this life with appearance of much zeal: Edward religiously, Lewis something superstiously. Both left their sons, yet children to inherit; who died issueless, and left the Crown to their greatest enemies: Edward the fifth to his Uncle Richard Duke of Gloucester, Charles the eight to his kinsman Lewis Duke of Orleans.  
But who looks upon the lives of these two Princes on the other side; may as in a table which presents several faces, perceive as great disparity. But I am only to give you the picture of King Edward, without flattery or detraction; which is rare in history: considering authors fashion for the most part Ideas in their minds, and according to them, not to the truth of action form a Pince: which though happily i● win applause to the writer, is a high abuse to the reader.  
BUt this King was, if we compare his with the lives of Princes in general, worthy to be ●●●berd among the best. And whom though not an extraordinary virtue, yet a singular fortune made conspicuous. He was borne at Roan in Normandy, his father at that time Regent in France. The ●o satal division between the houses of York and Lancaster with him in a manner having both their birth and growth: For as he, the faction of his family gathered strength. His education was, according to to the best provision for his honour and safety, in arms: A strict and religious discipline, in all probability likely to have softened him too much to mercy, and a love of quiet.  
He had a great extent of wit, which certainly be owed to nature: That age bettering men little by learning; which howsoever he had wanted leisure to have received: The Trumpet sounding still too, loud in his ear, to have admitted the sober counsels of Philosophy. And his wit lay not in the slights of cunning and deceit; but in a sharp apprehensition, yet not too much whetted by suspicion.  
In counsel he was judicious, with little difficulty dispatching much: His understanding open to clear doubts, not dark and cloudy, and apt to create new. His wisdom looked still directly upon truth, which appears by the manage of his affairs both in peace and war: In neither of which (as far as concerned the politic part) he committed any main error. 'tis true he was overreached in peace by King Lewis, abused concerning the marriage of his daughter▪ In war by the Earl of Warwick when upon confidence of a final accord he was surprised: But both these misfortunes I impute to want of faith in his enemies, not of judgement in him. Though to speak impartially, his too great presumption on the oath of a dissembling Prince▪ and want of circumspection, a reconciliation being but in treaty; cannot scape without reprehension.  
His nature certainly was both noble and honest, which if rectified by the straight rule of virtue, had rendered him sit for example, whereas he is only now for observation. For prosperity raised him but to a complacency in his fortune; not to a disdain of others losses, or a pride of his own acquisitions. And when he had most security in his Kingdom, and consequently most allurements to tyranny, than showed he himself most familiar and indulgent. An admirable temperance in a Prince, who so well knew his own strength; and whom the love of riot necessitated to a love of treasure; which commonly is supplied by oppression of the Subject.  
The heavy fine upon Sr. Thomas Cook and displacing the chief justice blemisheth him with violence, and a vorice. But that severity, and the other when he began to look into the Poenall Laws, were but short tempests or rather small overcasting, during the glorious calm of his government. And what soever injury the subject endured, was not imputed to the King: But to Tip●oft Earl of Worcester and some under informers: Or else to the Queen and her necessitous kindred. The world either judiciously or else favourably diverting all envy from his memory.  
Great judgement in leading his armies, and courage in fight personally, speaks him both a daring Soldier, and an expert Commander. And the many battles he fought, in all which he triumphed, delivers him as much to be ●●mired for his military discipline, as his happy success. Fortune not deserving to have all his mighty victories ascribed to her gift: Valour and good conduct share at the least with her in the fate of war. But as in arms he appears most glorious to posterity, so likewise most unhappy: For all those bloody conquests he obtained, were against his own nation; And the greatest adversaries he over came, near in consanguinity to him; so that he may more properly be said to have let himself blood, than his enemies; or rather for preservation of his own body, to have cut off his principal and most necessary limbs. For beside those many Princes of the house of Somerset, Buckingham, Excester, Oxford, Devonshire, Northumberland, Westmoreland, Shrewsbury, and finally the tree itself, and the only branch, Henry the sixth and his Son Prince Edward▪ He slew even the Earl of Warwick and the marquis Montague: Two brothers who having lost their father in his quarrel, hazarded their lives and those mighty possessions and honours which peaceably they might have enjoyed, only to advance his title. But this was rather his fate, than his fault▪ and into this Sea of blood he sailed not voluntarily, but violently driven by the tempests of his fortune. And for the cruelty laid to him in the death of the Duke of Clarence, he was certainly wrought to it by practice and the misinformation of an envious faction in Court: The horror of which fratricide possessed him to the last hour of his life, frequently complaining against the unhappy severity of his justice, and against the hard nature of his Councillors, who would not interpose one word to him for mercy, whereby so black a deed might have been prevented. But howsoever we may wash away much of this blood from his memory▪ yet there continue many foul stains upon it: since public mischiefs seldom happen, but that the Prince, though not actually nocent, as in some degree guilty.  
As these so many confusions at home were the misfortune of his time, so was abroad, that so scandalous loss of the Eastern Empire to the Turk. For though King Edward were not the occasion of so great ruin to the Christian Commonwealth, and that this happened before he attained the sovereignty, his father being head of the faction; yet the civil wars of England raised upon the quarrel which he was soon after to maintain, and the universal division among Princes of the West gave courage to the Infidels; and denied succours to the miserable Emperor oppressed by an over potent enemy. Whereby a City was profaned, in which the Christian faith had flourished without interruption for a thousand years. But as the Sea is said to gain in another, if it looseth in this place: So about this time religion, by the singular piety and valour of Ferdinand and Isabel, won ground upon the Moors in Spain, whence not long after they were totally and (I hope) for ever expelled.  
But when the War licenc'd the King to attend his government, we find the administration of Laws just and equal: and many new statutes enacted, wholesome against diseases crept into the State: So that he appeared diligent both to heal up any wound, the tumults of his reign had given the commonwealth, and provident for the health of future ages. And certainly no Prince could husband the benefits of peace better for the outward magnificence; For his glory was much in hospitality, and a pompous celebration of the principal feasts of our redemption. In which way of bravery settling much of his happiness; he had been doubtless the most fortunate of any King of the Norman line, had he not failed in expectation of his daughter's marriage.  
His buildings were few, but sumptuous for that time, or more properly but reparations: Which are yet to be seen at the Tower of London, his house of Eltham, the Castles of Nottingham and Dover: But above all at Windsor, where he built the new Chapel (finished after by Sr. Riginald Bray Knight of the Order) and endowed the College with mighty revenues: which he gave not, but transferred thither: taking from King's College in Cambridge; and Eton College a thousand pound by the year to enrich this at Windsor.  
But our buildings like our children are obnoxious to death; and time scorns their folly, who place a perpetuity in either. And indeed the safer kind of fate happened to King Edward in both these felicities: His posterity, like his edifices, lost in other names. For his two sons, before they had survived their father, the ceremonious time of mourning, were themselves inhumanly murdered, and as obscurely buried. His eldest daughter the Lady Elizabeth was married to the Earl of Richmond, known by the name of Henry the seventh: Whose heir in a straight line not liable to any doubt or question, is his most sacred Majesty, now glorious in government of this Realm. The younger daughters were bestowed, one in a monastery, others upon inferior Lords. Sicily married John Viscount Wells: Anne, Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk: Bridget was professed Nun at Dartford: Mary was contracted to the King of Denmark, but died before consummation: Margaret died an Infant: Katherine married William Courtney Earl of Devonshire. But of none of these younger Princesses at this day remains any thing but their memory: All dying issueless but the Lady Katherine, whose posterity failed likewise in the third descent. Henry her son marquis of Exeter suffered by attainder in the reign of his Cousin German Henry the Eight, being not long before designed heir apparent (an honour fatal in England:) and his son Edward untimely came to his death at Milan in Italy, in the reign of Queen Mary, by whose favour he had regaind his father's honours and possessions. So that all the clear stream from the spring of York flows in the house of Scotland: The troubled and impure runs in many veins of the English Gentry. For by the Lady Elizabeth Lucy, he had an illegitimate Son named Arthur, who by his wives right was Viscount Lile, and dying without issue Male, left to his three daughters and their posterity some tincture of the blood royal.  
This disease of his blood was the crime which procured both to his government and memory many hard censures. For though some excuse his lust, as a sin though black to the eye of heaven, yet no way generally injurious: In regard the incontinency of one man could not be so diffusive as to wrong a multitude: Nevertheless who observes the revolutions of Kingdoms, shall find no one iniquity in Princes so punished. The dishonour of one Lady abused extending the disgrace of several families, and mighty factions knitting together for revenge: In the whole stock of injuries none being so cruel to humane nature, and which with less patience can be dissembled.  
His frequent perjury (a sin which strikes like a Sword with two edges, both against divine and humane faith) was the crime which rendered him most odious to the society of man. For impiously he appeared in this to brave heaven, slighting all solemn covenants made with God: and foolishly preferring before a holy promise; a little profit, or the satisfaction of his revenge. Which crime, however for the present it might stand him in some benefit; yet certainly it might have endangered him to much loss in all after enterprises, which depended upon faith. The deaths of Wells and Dimock, of Fauconbridge, of Somerset, Lord Prior of St. john's and others, were the wounds perjury gave his soul, the scars of which remain yet foul upon his fame. But perhaps he thought no faith was to be held with an enemy▪ Or promised, not with intention of performance: An impious equivocation: but then in practice with his neighbour Princes both of France and Burgundy: So that the custom may in some sort seem to privilege the fault.  
In his youth he was so uncircumspect, and even when he had the strongest arguments for jealousy, so overconfident: that it engaged him to extreme difficulties, and endangered absolute ruin. But his fortune, almost miraculously, made up all those breaches, which had been by his carelessness and presumption laid open: and delighting something wantonly to boast her power and favour to him, raised him then highest, when all the world, and almost his own hopes forsook him. For presently upon the slaughter of his father at the battle of Wakefield, and the overthrow of his great supporter the Earl of Warwick at that of Saint Alban: She enthroned him in the Kingdom: Making the Queen and all the favourers of Lancaster when doubly victorious, retire as overcome; and the universal acclamations of the people set the regal Diadem upon his head; whose fathers head at that time, like a Traitors was fixed upon the Walls of York, scorned with a paper Crown. And afterward when from a mighty Prince he was become a miserable Exile, forced by the treason of his chiefest Councillors and powers of his greatest enemy to fly into Burgundy, where he likewise met with but a dissembled amity: She restored him to what at first she gave: And whereas his Forces were so weak upon his return into England; that despairing more, he humbly only desired to be invested in his father's Duchy, and vowed never to attempt the Crown: She violently forced it on him: protesting (by the mouths of the Nobility who resorted to him at Nottingham) not to afford him safety if he refused the soveraingtie: By which amorous way of threatening she in a manner wooed him to accept, what he durst not then hope to recover. And had the appetite of glory more prevailed with him, than the sense of pleasure, as far as we may conjecture of his fortune; he might have extended his victories over the world, which are now straitened with the narrow limits of our Island.  
FINIS.