THE FIRST PART OF THE LIFE AND reign of King Henry the FOUR  
Extending to the end of the first year of his reign.  
Written by I. H.  
Imprinted at London by john Wolf, and are to be sold at his shop in Pope's head Alley, near to the Exchange. 1599   

Illustrissimo & honoratissimo Roberto Comiti Essexiae & Ewe, Comiti Marescallo Angliae, Vicecomiti Herefordiae & Bourchier: Baroni Ferrariis de Chartley, Domino Bourchier & Lovein: Regiae Maiestati Hyppocomo: Machinarum bellicarum praefecto: Academiae Cantabrigiensis▪ Cancellario: ordinis Georgiani Equiti aurato: Serenissimae Domino Reginae a sanctioribus consilijs: Domino meo plurimum obseruando.  
ΑΡίσῳ καὶ γενναιοτάτῳ: optimo & Nobilissimo (inquit Euripides) ex qua sententia tu primus ac solus fere occurrebas (illustrissime comes) cuius nomen si Henrici nostri fronte radiaret, ipse & laetior & tutior in vulgus pr●diret. Magnus si quidem es, & presenti judicio, & futuri temporis expectatione: in quo, veluti recuperasse nunc oculos, caeca prius fortuna videri potest; Dum cumulare honoribus eum gestit, qui omnibus virtutibus est insignitus. Hunc igitur si laeta fronte excipere digneris, sub nominis tui umbra (tanquam sub Aiacis clipio Teucer ille Homericus) tutissime latebit. Deus opt. max. celsitudinem tuam nobis, reique publicae diu servet incolumem: quo nos uz. tam fide quam armis potenti tua dextra defensi, ultique, diutina cum securitate tum gloria perfruamur.  
Honori tuo deditissimus. I. HAYWARDE.   

Faults escaped in the Printing  
Page. Line. Fault. Read. 11 23 played plied 15 13 pleaseth please 16 20 present presents 19 22 sport sort 19 24 tempored tempered 37 10 weedlesse needless 41 18 cause fame 43 13 too two 44 13 in reporting to reporting 53 08 moved enforced 55 04 this his 55 05 challenged challenging 57 27 else or else 65 20 carried carry 70 13 lenity levity 71 35 Bush Bushie 75 05 officers of so long offers of so large 75 12 Castle Trim Castle of Trim 75 32 of the one, by the one, 77 32 at men to men 79 25 increased incensed 86 13 Thirminges Thirninges 86 15 Lophane Lopham 88 32 confessed confused 100 10 taking raking 102 30 or violence or conceal violence 107 35 is no more it is no more 127 06 resistance assistance 127 27 Redding Reading 130 24 he had that he had 131 05 hardly shortly 131 24 was not he was not 131 27 blood bold 148 21 retained he retained   

A. P. to the Reader.  
AMong all sorts of human writers, there is none that have done more profit, or deserved greater praise, than they who have committed to faithful records of Histories, either the government of mighty states, or the lives and acts of famous men: for by describing the order and passages of these two, and what events hath followed what counsels, they have set forth unto us, not only precepts, but lively patterns, both for private directions and for affairs of state: whereby in short time young men may be instructed, and old men more fully furnished with experience then the longest age of man can afford. And therefore Cicero reporteth that L. Lucullus, when he went from Rome to make war against Mithridates, was altogether unskilful in Military services: yet in the time of his Navigation he so exercised himself what with conference, and what with reading of histories, that when he came into Asia, by the judgement and confession of that great King, he was preferred before all the commanders that were before him. hereupon when Alexander Severus did deliberate of any weighty matter, he would especially take advise of men skilful in histories, and not without good cause: for if (as Afranius saith) experience hath begot Wisdom, and Memory as a mother hath brought it forth; who are to be better accounted than they whose memory is as it were a rich storehouse, of the experiences not of one age or Country, but of all times and of all nations. And therefore it is no great marvel that Zenobia, who after the death of her husband Odonatus took upon her the state, not only insulted upon the Romans', but held the Arabians, the Saricenes, the Armenians, and other fierce and intractible people, in such obedience, that although she were both a woman and a Barbarian, yet they never stirred against her: for she had perfectly red the Roman history in Greek, and also had herself abridged the Alexandrian and all the Oriental histories, whereby she attained the highest pitch both of Wisdom and authority: for examples are of greater force to stir unto virtue, then bare precepts, insomuch as Cicero said that nothing could be taught well without example. Therefore the Lacaedemoians (as Plutarch writeth) did use upon festival days to present unto their Sons certain drunken slaves whom they called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that by view of the vice they might learn to avoid it, and Hismenias the Theban, would show to his scholars musicans of all sorts good and bad, instructing them to follow the one and not the other. And this is that which the Apologily telleth of a certain Country woman, who being hard favoured, and fearing lest she should bring forth children like herself, got many fair and beautiful pictures, which she did daily and steadfastly behold: the meaning whereof it, that by setting before us the acts and lives of excellent men, it is the readiest way to fashion our qualities according to the same.  
Hereupon Cicero doth rightly call history the witness of times, the light of truth, the life of memory, and the messenger of antiquity. Hereby we are armed against all the rage and rashness of Fortune: and hereby we may seem (in regard of the knowledge of things) to have traveled in all Countries, to have lived in all ages, and to have been conversant in all affairs. Neither is that the least benefit of history, that it preserveth eternally, both the glory of good men, and shame of evil. Some Philosophers do deny, that glory is to be desired: for virtue (say they) is a reward unto itself, and must not be respected for the vain and titular blasts of glory: yet in writing these things, they affect that especially, which they especially deprave. And indeed there is no man hath so horny hartstringes, (as Persius speaketh) who is not tickled with some pleasure of praise: again there is no man of so flinty a forehead, who is not touched with some fear of infamy and shame. Do we think that the valiant soldier thinketh no toil too tough, but boldly adventureth the hazard of all haps, because he is weary of his life? death cometh by nature to all men alike, only with difference of memory with posterity.  
And I would think that Cities at the first were builded, laws made, and many things invented for the use of men, chief for desire of glory: which humour except the old governors of common wealths, had thought necessary, they would never have fostered it as they did, with Garlands, statues, trophies and triumphs, in which notwithstanding it is but temporary and short; but in histories of worth it is only perpetual. This Cicero perceiving he dealt with Luceius to commit his actions to the monuments of his writings: and Pliny the younger did wish that he might be mentioned in the histories of Cornelius Tacitus, because he did foresee that they should never decay.  
But these are such as are not led away with a lust, either to flatter or to deface, whereby the credit of history is quite overthrown. Yet the endeavour to curry favour is more easily disliked, as bearing with it an open note of servility, and therefore Alexander when he heard Aristobulus read many things that he had written of him far above truth, as he was sailing the flood Hydaspis, he threw the book into the River, and said that he was almost moved to send Aristobulus after for his servile dealing: but envious carping carrieth a counterfeit show of liberty, and thereby findeth the better acceptance.  
And since I am entered into this point, it may seem not impertinent to write of the style of a history, what beginning, what continuance, and what mean is to be used in all matter; what things are to be suppressed, what lightly touched, and what to be treated at large: how credit may be won, and suspicion avoided: what is to be observed in the order of times, and description of places and other such circumstances of weight; what liberty a writer may use in framing speeches, and in declaring the causes, counsels and events of things done: how far he must bend himself to profit: and when and how he may play upon pleasure, but this were too large a field to enter into: therefore lest I should run into the fault of the Mindians, who made their gates wider than their town, I will here close up; only wishing that all our English histories were drawn out of the dross of rude and barbarous English: that by pleasure in reading them, the profit in knowing them, might more easily be attained.   

THE FIRST part OF THE LIFE AND REIGN OF KING Henry the fourth, Extending to the end of the first year of his reign.  
THe noble and victorious Prince, king Edward the third, had his fortunate gift of a long & prosperous reign over this realm of England; much strengthened and adorned, by nature's supply of seven goodly sons. Edward his eldest son, prince of Wales, commonly called the Black Prince: William of Hatfield: Lyonel, Duke of Clarence: john of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster: Edmund of Langley, Duke of York: Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester: and William of Windsor. These sons, during the life of their renowned Father, were such ornaments and such stays to his estate, as it seemed no greater could be annexed thereunto. For neither armies, nor strong holds are so great defences to a prince, as the multitude of children: Forts may decay, and forces decrease, and both decline and fall away, either by variety of fortune, or inconstancy of men's desires: but a man's own blood cleaveth close unto him; not so much in the blisses of prosperity, which are equally imparted to others, as in the crosses of calamity, which touch none so near, as those that are nearest by nature. But in succeeding times they became in their offspring▪ the seminary of division and discord, to the utter ruin of their families, and great waist and weakening of the whole Realm: for they that have equal dignity of birth and blood, can hardly stoop to terms of sovereignty, but upon every offer of occasion will aspire to endure, rather no equal then any superior, and for the most part, the hatred of those that are nearest in kind, is most despiteful & deadly if it once break forth. The fear of this humour caused Remulus, to imbrue the foundations of the City and Empire of Rome, with the blood of his brother Remus. According to which example, the tyrants of Turkey, those butchers of Satan, do commonly at this day begin their reign, with the death and slaughter of all their brethren.  
Prince Edward, the thunderbolt of war in his time, died during the life of his father. And although, he was cut off in the middle course, and principal strength of his age, yet in respect of honour and fame he lived with the longest, having in all parts fulfilled the measure of true Nobili●e He left behind him a young some called Richard, who after the death of King Edward, was Crowned King in his stead, and afterward died childless.  
William of Hatfield king Edward's second son, died also without issue, leaving no other memory of his name, but the mention only.  
Li●●●ll Duke of Clarence, the third son of King Edward, was a man of comely parsonage, of speech and pace stately, in other qualities of a middle temperature, neither to be admired nor contemned, as rather void of ill parts, then furnished with good. He had issue Philip his only daughter, who was joined in marriage to Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March: Who in the Parliament holden in the eight year of the Reign of King Richard, was in the right of his wife, declared heir apparent to the Crown, in case the King should die without children but not many years after he died, leaving issue by the said Philip, Roger Mortimer Earl of March. This Roger was slain in the rude and tumultuous wars of Ireland, and had issue Edmund Anne, and Elienor. Edmund and Elienor died without issue. Anne was married to Richard Earl of Cambridge, son to Edmund of L●ngley Duke of York, the fift son of King Edward. Of these two, came Richard 〈◊〉 Duke of York who by the right ●●uolued to him from his mother, made open claim to the Crown of England, (which was then possessed by the family of Lancaster) first by law, in the Parliament holden the thirtieth year of the Reign of King Henry the sixth: where either by right or by favour, his cause had such furtherance, that after King Henry should die, the Crown was entailed to him, and to the heirs of his blood for ever. But the Duke impatient to linger in hope, chose rather to endure any danger than such delay: Whereupon he entered into arms soon after, against King Henry in the field. But being carried further by courage, then by force he could bear through, he was slain at the battle of Wakefield, and left his title to Edward his eldest son: who with invincible persistence did prosecute the enterprise, and after great variety of fortune at the last achieved it.  
john of Gaun● Duke of Lancaster, the fourth Son of King Edward the third, was a man of high and hardy spirit, but his fortune was many times not answerable, either to his force or to his forecast. He had two sons, Henry Earl of Derby (of whom I purpose chief to treat) and john Earl of Somerset. This john was Father to john Duke of Somerset, who had issue Margaret, Countess of Richmond, mother to the noble Prince, Henry the seventh.  
Henry Plantagenet Earl of Derby, was likewise by his mother Bla●ch extracted from the blood of Kngs, being descended from Edmund the second son of King Henry the third: by which line: the D●chie of Lancaster did receive unto his house. He was a man of mean stature, well proportioned, and formally compact: of good strength and agility of body, skilful in arms, and of a ready dispatch: jointly showing himself both earnest and advised in all his actions. He was quick and present in conceit, forward in attempt, courageous in execution, and most times fortunate in event. There was no great place of employment and charge, which he would not rather affect for glory, then refuse either for peril, or for pains; and in service he often proved himself not only a skilful commander by giving directions: but also a good Soldier in using his weapon, adventuring further in person sometimes, then policy would permit: his expenses were liberal and honourable, yet not exceeding the measure of his receipts, he was very courteous and familiar respectively towards all men, whereby he procured great reputation and regard, especially with those of the meaner sort: for high humilities take such deep root in the minds of the multitude, that they are more strongly drawn by unprofitable courtesies▪ then by 〈◊〉 benefits. In all the changes of his estate, he was almost one and the same man: in adversity never daunted, in prosperity never secure: retaining still his majesty in the one, and his mildness in the other: neither did the continuance of his Reign bring him to a proud port and stately esteeming of himself, but in his latter years he remained so gentle & fair in carriage, that thereby chiefly he did wear out the hatred that was borne him, for the death of King Richard. He could not lightly be drawn into any cause, & was stiff & constant in a good: Yet more easy to be either corrupted or abused by flattering speeches, then to be terrified by threats. To some men he seemed too greedy of glory, making small difference of the means whereby he attained it: and indeed this humour in noble minds is most hardly overruled, and oftentimes it draweth even the 〈…〉. But before I proceed any further in describing either the qualities, or acts of this Earl, I must write something of the Reign of King Richard the second, his cousin germane: so far forth as the follies of the one, were either camfer or furtherances of the fortunes of the other.  
Richard son to Edward Prince of Wales, a little before deceased, was, after the death of King Edward the third; Crowned King over this Realm of England, in the eleventh year of his age▪ at which years the mind of man is like to the po●●teis earth, apt to be wrought into any fashion, and which way so ever it hardeneth by custom, it will sooner break then bend from the same. Now the governance of the King at the first was committed to certain Bishops, Earls, 〈◊〉, and justices. But either upon 〈…〉 the King, or negligence to discharge their duty▪ 〈…〉 was more ready with pleasant 〈◊〉 to delight 〈◊〉 then with profitable counsel to do him good▪ for smooth and pleasing speeches need small endeavour, and always findeth favour: whereas to advise that which is meet, is a point of some pains, and many times● thankless office. Herr● upon two dangerous evils did 〈…〉 In, and private respects did pass under public 〈◊〉.  
In the third year of his Reign; it was thought meet that this charge should be committed to one man, to avoid thereby the unnecessary waist of the treasure of the Realm, by allowing yearly stipend unto many. So by the whole consent of the nobility and commons assembled together in Parliament, this office was deputed to Lord Thomas Beauchampe, Earl of Warwick, and a competent pension was assigned him, out of the King's Exchequer for his pains. But the King being now plunged in pleasure, did immoderately bend himself to the favouring and advancing of certain persons, which were both reprovable in life, and generally abhorred in all the Realm, and this was the cause of two great inconveniences: for many young noblemen and brave Courtiers, having a nimble eye to the 〈…〉 and dislikes of the King, gave over themselves, to a dissolute and dishonestlise, which findeth some followers when it findeth death no furtherancers, much more when it doth flourish and thrive: the King also by favouring these, was himself little favoured and loved of many: for it is oftentimes a dangerous to a Prince, to have evil and odious adherents, as to be evil and odious himself. The names of these men were Alexander Ne●ill, Archbishop of York▪ Robert Ve●●●, Earl of Oxford: Michael 〈◊〉, afterwards Earl of Suffolk: Robert Tri●iliane, Lord chief justice, Nicholas Brambre Alderman of London; and certain others, of no eminency either by birth or desert, but obsequious and pliable to the King's youthful humour. These were highly in credit with the King: these were always next unto him, both in company and counsel: by these he ordered his private actions: by these he managed his affairs of state: he spared neither the dignity nor death of any man; whose auctho●●ie and life withstood their preferment. In so much as in the fifth year of his Reign, he removed Sir Richard Seroop●, from being Lord Chancellor of England (to which office he was by authority of Parliament appointed) because he refused to set the great Seal, to the grant of certain lands, which had wanton passed from the King: alleging for his denial, the great debts of the King, and small demerits of the parties, upon whom the King might cast away and confirm, but spend in good order he could not: advertising him also to have respect, that riot did not deceive him under the term and show of liberality: and that gifts well ordered procure not so much love, as placed without discretion, they stir 〈◊〉. This Chancellor was a man of notable integrity and diligence in his office, not scornfully turning away from the ragged coat of a poor suppliant, or pale face of a fickely & feeble 〈…〉, holding up their simple soiled bills of complaint, not yet smothering 〈…〉 with partial 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 mighty▪ but being alike to all, he was 〈◊〉 disliked of 〈…〉.  
In the eight year of this 〈◊〉, the destruction of the duke of Lancaster was extended likewise upon the like dislike: the plot was laid by justice 〈◊〉, offences were devised, appello●s appointed, and pe●res named; ●e should have been put under 〈◊〉, and forthwith ●●●●igned, condemned, and executed▪ But the duke upon 〈◊〉 intelligence of these continuances, fled to his castle at Pomfret, and there made preparation for his defence against the king. So this matter began to grow to a head of division, which the common people at that time very busily desired and sought: but the king's mother traveling 〈◊〉 between the king and the duke (notwithstanding she was both 〈…〉) 〈◊〉 them both to are con●●lement: the king, with regard of the dangerous and discontend times: the duke with respect of his duty and faith: and so partly by her entreaty and advise, partly by their inclination bending to the 〈◊〉 course, all apparancy of displeasure on the one part▪ and a 〈◊〉 on the other, was for that time laid aside.  
The same year Michael D●lapoole was made Clancellour of England, and created earl of Suffolk: and Robert Veery earl of Oxford was created marquess of Dubline, being the first man within this realm that was ennobled with that 〈◊〉. But 〈◊〉 they grew in honour, sordid they 〈◊〉 hate: for many noble men did infinitely stomach their undeserved advancements, and with these the favour of the people generally went: but the kings intemperate affection was peremptory, 〈…〉 not regarding 〈…〉 could not resist it.  
The year next following, Robert Veer the new Marquis was created duke of Ireland. This year the Knights and burgesses of 〈◊〉 put up many: complaints against the Earl of suffolk, upon which they 〈…〉 his 〈…〉 trial: namely 〈◊〉 he 〈…〉 the 〈◊〉 in taking of him to farm all the profits 〈…〉 crown thou wanton he wasted the treasure of the land in 〈◊〉 liberality, and unnecessary charges: how deep he had dived into the king's debt: how careless and 〈…〉 in his office: how greatly he had 〈◊〉 deceived and 〈◊〉 the king in 〈◊〉 dealing and 〈◊〉 particularly 〈◊〉: with divers other 〈…〉 dishonour and dishonesty, both in private actions and in office. This 〈◊〉 was a merchant's son in London, and growing mighty on the sudden, he could not govern himself in the change: but 〈◊〉 lay 〈…〉 of his mind, which were suppressed and 〈…〉 rulle●●ng 〈◊〉, with 〈…〉 he made 〈◊〉 of his 〈…〉. Yet the king was willing, either secretly to dissemble, or openly to 〈◊〉 these 〈◊〉: and so passed them over with a short audience (as his manner was in matters of 〈◊〉 weight) 〈…〉 with the complaint. Afterwards, a 〈…〉 but answer was made that this needed not; since the king's wants might be furnished with the debts which were owing him from his Chancellor: neither was it to any purpose, so long as the 〈…〉 ordered by such 〈◊〉 as before it had been▪ 〈…〉 was like: 〈…〉 the matter against the 〈…〉, and the king persuaded 〈…〉 honourable not safe to bear him out, that to private men it was sufficient if themselves abstain from wrong, but a prince must provide that none do wrong under him: for by maintaining, or winking at the vices of his officers, he maketh them his own, and shall surely be charged therewith when first occasion doth serve against him. At the last, upon instant importunity of both houses, the king did consent, that a commission should go forth to certain noble men, giving them authority to hear and determine all matters which were objected against the L. Chancellor: and then was a Subsidy granted, with exception, that the money should be expended by the Lords, to the benefit and behalf of the realm. The king did further demand, that the heirs of Charles Bl●ys, who made claim to the duchy of Britain, should be sold to the French men for thirty thousand marks, and the money granted to the duke of Ireland, for recovery of those possessions which the king had given him in Ireland: this was likewise assented unto, upon condition, that before Easter than next ensuing, the duke should departed into Ireland, and there remain: at so high a price did they value the riddance of him out of the realm.  
The charge of the Subsidy money was committed to Richard earl of Arundel, Commissioners for the earl of Suffolk, were appointed, Thomas duke of Gloucester the king's uncle, and the said earl of Arundel: but during the time of their proceeding, the king kept all off, in places far distant: either to manifest thereby the dissent of his mind, or to avoid the grief which his nearness would increase. And now was the Chancellor left unto himself, to answer to those demeanours, wherein he made the king's blind favour his privilege and protection, supposing never to see the same either altered or overruled. In the end, being convict of many crimes and abuses, he was deposed from his office, his goods were confiscated to the king's Exchequer, & himself was adjudged worthy of death: Yet was execution submitted to the king's pleasure, and under sureties he was permitted to go at large. At the same time john F●●rd● Bishop of Duresme, another of the King's dainties, was removed also from being Lord Treasurer of England, he was a man of little depth, either in learning or wisdom, but one that had the Art of seeming, in making the best show of whatsoever he spoke or did: and rising from mean estate to so high a pitch of honour, he exercised the more excessively his riot, avarice and ambition, not able to moderate the lusts and desires which former want had kindled.  
When this business was blown over, the King ●●turned again to London, and did presently receive the Earl of Suffolk, with the Duke of Ireland, and the Archbishop of York, to greater grace and familiarity then at any time before. These Triumuirs did not cease to stir up the King's stomach against those Noble men, whose special excellency had made matter of fame and regard: partly for the disgraces which they had received, partly upon malicious emulation, to see the other so favoured, and themselves so odious, and that their private choler and ambition might bear some show of public respect, they suggested unto the King, that he was but half, yea not half a King in his own Realm, but rather the shadow and picture of a King: for if we respect (said they) matters of state, you bear the sword, but they sway it, you have the show, but they the authority of a Prince, using your name as a colour and countenance to their proceed, and your person as a cipher, to make them great, and be yourself nothing. Look to the duty of your subjects, and it is at their devotion: so that you can neither command nor demand any thing, but with such exceptions and limitations as they please to impose, come now to your private actions: your liberality (the greatest virtue in a prince) is restrained, your expenses measured, and your affections confined, to frown and favour as they do prescribe. What Ward is so much under government of his Guardian? Wherein will they next, or can they more abridge you? Except they should take from you the place, as they have done the power of a Prince: and in this we think, they may justly be feared, having so great might joined with so great aspiring minds. For power is never safe when it doth exceed: & ambition is like the Crocodile, which groweth so long as he liveth; or like the ivy, which fastening on the foot of the tallest Tower, by small, yet continual rising, at length will climb above the top, it is already grown from a spark to a flame, from a twig to a tree, and high time it is that the increase were stayed: oftentimes such overruling of Princes have proceeded to their overthrowing, and such cutting them short hath turned to cutting them off, their minds are suspicious, their power dangerous, and therefore the opportunity must be prevented.  
The Kings own weakness made him apprehensive, and framed his mind to a vain, and needless fear: but chiefly he was moved at the removing of his Chancellor and Treasurer out of their offices, and of the Duke of Ireland out of the Realm, supposing it a restraint to his princely power, that he might not absolutely and in things give or forgive as his pleasure served. When these pr●●ie incensers perceived the King's humour once sharpened, they so played him with plausible persuasions, that (although he was naturally of no cruel disposition, as wanting courage) yet they drew him to many violent and ●●direct courses, partly upon negligence to search out the truth, partly upon delight to be flattered and smoothly used, neither did they long defer their devices: and first it was appointed, that the Duke of Gloucester and certain others of that part, should be invited to a supper within London, & there suddenly surprised and made away. Sir Nicholas Brambre, who the year before had been Mayor of London, and in whom abundance of wealth supplied the want of honest qualities, was a busy agent in this butcherly business: but Richard Extone the Mayor of the City that year, discovered the practice by whom the Duke was warned both to avoid the present peril, and afterwards to be wary of the like.  
The year next following, Richared Earl of Arundel, and Thomas Mowbraye Earl of Nottingham, had the conduct of a Navy committed to their charge: in this voyage they took above a hundred sail of the enemy's ships, fraughted with Wines, and well appointed for fight: they also relieved and fortified Breast, and took two forts which the Frenchmen had raised against it. The Earls so behaved themselves in this service, that they grew to a very great estimation, both for courtesy among their Soldiers, and for courage against their enemies; & their actions were the more famous, by reason of the infortunate insufficiency of other Commanders, by whose either rashness or cowardice many good Soldiers were daily defeated, and every year made notorious by one loss or other. Yet notwithstanding all their good labour and luck, they were at there turn, entertained by the King, with great strangeness, both of countenance and speech. Who was so unable to dissemble his despite, that he could hardly defer it, until the heat of the honour and love which they had won, were somewhat abated. So much are men more inclinable to revenge displeasure then reward desert: for it is troublesome to be grateful, and many times chargeable: but revenge is pleasant, and preferred before gain.  
About the same time, Robert Duke of Ireland forsook the company of his lawful wife, whose mother Lady Isabel was daughter to King Edward the third, and in steed of her he took unto him a base Bohemian, a Taverners daughter. The King little regarded this indignity done unto his cousin, and in so great confusion of the state, let it pass unreproved, as overshadowed with greater vices, but the Duke of Gloucester her uncle, took it in high disdain, as injurious to the royal blood, and did attend upon occasion to work revenge, this was not secret from the Duke of Ireland, who likewise bent all his devices to bring the Duke of Gloucester to his overthrow. The Duke of Gloucester did prosecute this enmity, openly and manlike: the Duke of Ireland closely, and therefore the more dangerously. The Duke of Gloucester was greater in blood, the Duke of Ireland in favour: he being Uncle to the King, this bearing himself as the King's fellow. The Duke of Gloucester pretended for the state, the Duke of Ireland for the King: and much private malice did pass under these public shows: but in opposition of such equal powers, there is many times final difference in harm.  
And now was Easter past, the term assigned to Duke Robert Veer for his departure into Ireland: and lest his stay might breed some stir within the Realm, he still busied himself in preparation for his journey, and at last (although it were long) made a solemn show ofsetting forth. The King went in great state to accompany him to his shipping; and the Earl of Suffolk, with justice Trisiliane, and the residue of that faction, either for favour followed, or for fear durst not stay behind. So they passed together into Wales, and (whether upon levity the King's mind changed, or whether it was so contrived at the first to draw themselves more separate from the Lords) there the Duke's journey was at an end. Then they entered into counsel, which way the Lords might best be suppressed: many devices were deeply debated, all pleased without respect either of danger of disgrace: but few stood with likelihood of event to their desires, and therefore none was finally concluded. After long time thus frivolously spent, they left Wales, and came to the Castle of Nottingham, where the King caused the high Sheriffs of all the Shires in the Realm to be called before him, and demanded of them, what strength they could make on his part against the Lords, if need should require: their answer was, that the common people did so favour the Lords, and were so well resolved of their love & loyalty towards the King, that it was not in their power to raise any great power against them. Then they were commanded, that no Knights nor burgesses should afterwards be chosen to any Parliament, but those whom it pleased the King to appoint; whereto they said, that it was a hard matter in those times of jealousy and suspicion▪ to bereave the people of their ancient liberty in choosing Knights and Burgesses for the Parliament, some few other matters being either unreasonably required, or obtained to small end, the Sheriffs were licenced to departed. Then were assembled Robert Trisilian, chief justice of the King's Bench, Rob●rt Belk●●pe, chief justice of the Common Pleas, john Holte, Roger Stilthorpe, William Burgh, Knights and justices also of the Common Pleas▪, men learned in one rule chiefly, without difference of truth of falsehood, to please those in highest place, entituling that wisdom, which indeed was but baseness and feebleness of mind; these were charged by the King upon their faith and legrance, to make true & full answer to those questions following.  
1 First, whether the Statute ordinance and commission, made and set forth the last Parliament (whereby was meant the commission against Michael Delapoole Duke of Suffolk) did derogate from the royal prerogative of the King.  
2 Item, they who procured the said Statute &c. to be made▪ and set forth, ●ow are they to be punished?  
3 Item, how are they to be punished, who provoked the King to consent to the premises?  
4 Item, what punishment have they deserved who compelled the King to consent to the said statute etc.  
5 Item, how are they to be punished, who resisted or letted the King in exercising his royal power, by remitting any penalties or debts whatsoeu●r▪  
6 Item, when a Parliament is assembled, and the affairs of the Realm, and the cause of assembling the Parliament, by the King's commandment declared, and common● Articles limited by the King, upon which, the Lords and commons in the said Parliament should proceed: if the Lords & commons will proceed upon other Articles, and not upon the Articles limited by the King, until the King hath first given answer to the Articles propounded by them, notwithstanding that the contrary were enjoined by the King▪ whether in this case the King ought to ha●e the rule of the Parliament, and so to order the fact▪ that the Lords and commons should first proceed upon the Articles limited by the King, or that they should first have answer of the King, upon the Articles propounded by them, ●efore they proceed any further?  
7 Item, whether may the King when he pleaseth dissolve the Parliament, and command the Lords and commons to departed▪ or no?  
8 Item, since the King may a● his pleasure remove any of his Officers and justices, and punish them for their offences: Whether may the Lords and commons without the Kings will, accuse his Officers and justices in Parliament for their offences, yea▪ or no?  
9 Item, what punishment have they deserved, who 〈◊〉 in Parliament, that the Statute whereby King Edward Carnaruane was deposed, should be brought forth, by view whereof, the new Statute ordinance and commission aforesaid were framed?  
10 Item, whether the judgement given in the last Parliament holden at Westminster, against Michael Delapoole Duke of Suffolk, was erroneous and revocable, yea, or no?  
These questions or rather quarrels were drawn by john Blake, a Counsellor at the Law, by direction of justice Trisilian, whilst the King made his stay in Wales: to the which the justices aforenamed, some in discharge of their own malice, and some to satisfy the minds of other, made answer as followeth.  
To the first, that they did derogate from the prerogative of the King, because they were against his will.  
To the second and third: that they are to be punished by death, except it pleaseth the king to pardon them.  
To the fourth and fifth: that they are worthy to be punished as traitors.  
To the sixth: that whosoever resisteth the king's rule in that point, deserveth to be punished as a traitor.  
To the seventh: that the king may at his pleasure dissolve the Parliament, and whosoever shall afterwards proceed, against the king's mind, as in a Parliament, he is worthy to be punished as a traitor.  
To the eighth: that they can not, and whosoever doth the contrary, he deserveth to be punished as a traitor.  
To the ninth: that aswell the motioner as also the bringer of the said statute to the Parliament, are worthy to be punished as traitors.  
To the tenth, they answered: that the said judgement seemed to them erroneous and revocable in every part. In witness whereof, the justices aforesaid, with john Locktone, the king's sergeant at law, have subscribed and set their seals to these present, etc.  
When these bloody sentences of death and treason, were under general & large terms thus fastened upon the lords, the king supposed his attempts against them, whether by violence, or by colour of law sufficiently warranted: but his power both ways, as it was terrible against weak resistance, so against such mighty defendants it was of small force to effect that which he so much affected. Yet he did not omit his best endeavour: and first, accounting the lords as condemned persons, he made division of their lands and goods among those that he favoured. Then he waged soldiers to be in a treadinesse for his assistance, and sent the earl of Northumberland to arrest the earl of Arundel, at his castle in Reygate, where he than lay. But the earl of Arundel, either upon advertisement, or suspicion of the king's mind, banded himself so strong, that when the earl of Northumberland came unto him, he dissembled his intent, and left his purpose unperformed. Thus were these proceed of the king, as now in counsel, so afterwards in event, not much unlike that which the Fable telleth of a certain hunter, who first sold the skin of the bear, and then went about to take her: but when he came within the forest, either by unskilfulness or misadventure, he not only miss his prey, but fell himself into danger of the beast.  
The duke of Gloucester having secret intelligence of the king's displeasure and of his drift, sent the bishop of London to persuade the king to entertain a more favourable opinion of him: making faith to the bishop with a solemn oath, that he never intended any thing to the prejudice of the king, either in person or state. The Bishop not unskilful to join profitable persuasion with honest, declared to the king that his displeasure against the Lords was not grounded upon just desert, but either upon false suggestions of their enemies, or erroneous mistaking a● some of their actions: how desirous they were of his grace and favour: how faithful and forward they promised to persist in all dutiful service: how honourable this agreement would be to the king: how profitable to the realm: and how dangerous to both, these troubles might increase. The king seemed to give good ear & credit to the bishop's speech: but Michael Delapoole, a turbulent man, and against quiet counsel obstinately contentious, standing then by the king, soon stiffened his mind against all impression of friendship. Hereupon contention did arise between the Bishop and the Earl, and broke forth violently into heat of words. The Earl applied to the Lords those objections wherewith great men are usually charged: sparing no spite of speech, and using all art to aggravate matters against them. The bishop replied that the Earl was thus fiercely bend, not upon his own necessity, nor love to the king: but only to satisfy his bloody and ambitious humour, wherein he was so immoderate, that rather than the lords should not be destroyed, he would overwhelm them with the ruins of the state, for tumults might in deed be raised by men of little courage, but must be maintained with the hazard, and ended with the loss of the most valiant: that neither his counsel in this matter was to be followed, being the principal firebrand of the disturbance, not his complaints against any man to be any thing regarded, being himself a condemned person, and one that held both his life and honour at the pleasure of the king. At these words the king was exceedingly wroth, and charged the bishop with menacing & threats to avoid his presence. When the duke of Gloucester had knowledge hereof, he signified the danger to the earls of Arundel, Warwick, and Derbie, advising them to take arms, and unite themselves for their common defence: for in so doubtful and suspected peace, open war was the only hope of safety. These three Earls were the chiefest strength to the side, but the Duke bore the most stroke, because he was most bold, and his greatness almost obscured the names of the rest. On the other side, the king thinking separate dealing the only way to weaken a confederacy, endeavoured to prevent the lords in joining of their forces: and to that end he sent a strength of men with charge, either to set upon the earl of Arundel where he did lie, or to intercept him in his passage towards the Duke. But the Earl had travailed all the night before their coming, and so happily escaped to Haringey park, where he found the Duke and the other Earls with a sufficient company, as well to make attempt, as to stand upon resistance.  
When the king heard hereof, he was disturbed and distracted in mind, being now in choice either to relent or to resist, whereof he much disdained the one, and disinherited the other. His followers also were divided in counsel: some fretting at the disgrace, and some fainting at the danger. The Archbishop of York persuaded the king, that occasion was now offered to show himself a King indeed, if he would muster a royal army, and by main might beat down the boldness of this presumption. NIHIL DICTV FACILIUS, said another: This is more readily devised, than done: the army against us is mighty, and the commanders are great men, both for courage and skill, and greatly favoured of the common people: whereby that which is accounted so ready pay, may chance to prove a desperate debt. Therefore it were better with some yielding to enter into conditions of quiet, then by standing upon high points of honour to hazard the issue of a battle, wherein the King cannot win without his weakening, not lose without danger of his undoing. There was then in presence, a certain old Knight, called Sir Hugh Linne, a good Soldier, but a very madcap, & one that lived chiefly upon the liberality of noble men; by vain jests affecting the grace of a pleasant conceit: of him the King demanded in mirth, what he thought best to be done? Sir Hugh swore, swownes, and snails, let us set upon them, and kill every man and mother's child; and so we shall make riddance of the best friends you have in the Realm, this giddy answer more weighed with the King, then if it had been spoken in grave and sober sport: and thus it often happeneth, that wisdom is the more sweetly swallowed, when it is tempored with folly, and earnest is the less offensive, if it be delivered in jest. In the end, the devise of raising arms was laid aside, not as displeasing (being so agreeable to former proceed) but as despairing to prevail thereby; and the Archbishop of Canterbury, with the Bishop of Ely being Lord chancellor, were sent unto the Lords, to understand the cause of their assembly: answer was made, that it was for the safety of themselves; the honour of the King; and the overthrow of them which sought the overthrow of both. At the last it was concluded by mediation of the Bishops, that the Lords should come before the King at Westminster, upon promise of his protection, and there have audience concerning their griefs: the Bishop of Ely also making private faith, that he would discover any danger that he could descry, a little before the time they should come, the Bishop of Ely sent word, of an await that was purposed to be laid for them, at a place called the Mews, near London; advising them either to make stay, or to come prepared: but rather to make stay, lest further provocation might make reconcilement more hard, hereupon they came not at the time appointed, and the King marveling at their failance, inquired the cause of the Bishop of Ely: who answered, that the Lords found want of true meaning, & that they neither did, nor durst repose assurance in the King's word, which they saw to be used as a means to entrap them, the King made the matter very strange unto him, affirming with an oath that he was free from deceit, both in consent and knowledge: and in a great rage, he commanded the Sheriffs of London to go to the place, and slay all those whom they found there in a wait. Whether this was but a countenance of his, or whether he was not privy to the practice, it is not assuredly known, and in deed, the matter was not false, but the place mistaken: for Sir Thomas Trivet, and Sir Nicholas Brambre had assembled many armed men at Westminster, with direction to assault the Lords at their best advantage: but perceiving their deceit to be discovered, they dissolved the company, and sent them secretly away to London.  
Then the Lords, upon new faith for their security, came to the King at Westminster, and yet in faith they brought security with them, such troops of men, as in a place where they were so entirely favoured, was able to defend them, in any sudden tumult or danger: the King upon their coming entered into Westminster Hall, appareled in his royal robes: and when he was placed in his seat, and had composed himself to majesty and state, the Bishop of Ely Lord chancellor, made a long Oration to the Lords in the King's name. Wherein he declared, the heinousness of their offence, the greatness of their peril, how easy a matter it had been for the King to have levied a power sufficient to destroy them; and yet for the general spare of his subjects blood, and in particular favour to the Duke and other Lords, he made choice to encounter and overcome them, rather by friendship then by force: and therefore was willing, not only to pardon their riot, but also to hear their griefs, and in a peaceable and quiet manner to redress them. The Lords alleged for causes of their taking arms, first the necessity of their own defence! secondly, the love both of the King and of the Realm, whose fame and fortune did daily decline, by means of certain traitors, who lived only by the dishonours of the one, and decays of the other, those whom they challenged for traitors, were Robert Veer Duke of Ireland, Alexander Nevil Archbishop of York, Michael Delapoole Earl of Suffolk, Robert Trisiliane Lord chief justice, Sir Nichol●s Brambre, and certain others, somewhat secreter, but nothing better: and to justify this appeal, they threw down their gloves, and offered themselves to the trial by combat. The king replied, that often times the causes of actions being good, yet, if the means want moderation and judgement, the events prove pernicious: and therefore, though these complaints were true, yet were these courses not tolerable, which did bear an open face of rebellion, and by licentiousness of the multitude, might soon have sorted to such an end: for it is more easy to raise the people, then to rule them: whose fury once stirred, will commonly be discharged some ways. But (said he) since we have broken this broil, we will not by combating give occasion of a new: but at the next parliament (which he appointed should begin the third day of February than next ensuing) as well you, 
Crastino purificationis.  as they, shall be present, and justice indifferently done unto all. In the mean time, he took all parties into his protection, that none should endanger or endamage another: desiring the Lords to bear in mind, that as princes must not rule without limitation, so subjects must use a mean in their liberty. Then he caused the duke and the Earls, which all this time kneeled before him, to arise, and went with them into his private Chamber, where they talked a while, and drunk familiarly together, & afterwards, with a most friendly farewell he licensed them to departed. They of the contrary faction were not present at this meeting, and if they had, it was thought, that the presence of the King should little have protected them.  
This act of the King was divers ways taken: some judged him fearful: others moderate, rather in sparing the blood of his subjects. The Lords were very joyful of his goodwill and favour, which as by base or bad means they would not seek, so being well gotten, they did highly esteem. Yet they thought it the safest course, not to separate themselves, suspecting the mutability of the King, and the malice of their enemies, of whom they knew neither where they were, nor what they did intend: and being men of great wealth, and great power, and greatly bend to hurtful practices, they were feared not without a cause: for the Duke of Ireland, either by setting on, or sufferance of the King, was all this time mustering of Soldiers out of Cheshire and Wales, where he gathered an army both for number, and goodness of men sufficient, if another had been general, to have maintained the side.  
When the Lords were advertised hereof, they divided themselves, & beset all the ways by which the Duke should pass to London; determining to encounter him, before he did increase his power, and countenance his actions with the puissance or name of the King. At the last he was met by the Earl of Derby, at a place called Babbelake near to Burforde: and there the Earl put his men in array, resolving with great boldness to hazard the battle, his Soldiers also were full of courage and heart, disliking nothing more than delay, as a losing of time, and a hindrance to the victory: but the Duke, being a man not fit for action, yet mutinous, and more apt to stir strife, then able to stint it: upon news of an enemy would presently have fled. There was then in the army as a principal Commander, one Sir Thomas Molineux, Constable of Cheshire, a man of great wealth, and of good proof in service, upon whose leading all that country did depend: he persuaded the Duke, that this was but a part of the forces that were against them, and led only by the Earl of Derby, a man of no special name (at that time) among the Lords, and if they could not bear through that resistance, it was but in vain to attempt any great atchivement by arms. Hereupon the Duke stayed his steps, but his faint spirits were moved by this speech, rather to desire victory then to hope it: his soldiers also were dull, silent, & sad, and such as were readier to interpret, then execute the captains commandment. So they joined battle, but scarce ten ounces of blood was lost on both sides, before the duke of Ireland set spurs to his horse, and forsook the field. His soldiers seeing this, threw away their unfortunate weapons, more for indignation then for fear, ruffling their ranks, and yielding to the Earl the honour of the field. Sir Thomas Molineux in flying away, was forced to take a River which was near, and as he was coming forth again, a certain Knight whose name was Sir Thomas Mortimer, pulled off his helmet, and stabbed him into the brains with his dagger. The rest submitted themselves to the discretion of the victorours', making them lords over their life, and death: but their yielding was no sooner offered, than it was accepted, the Earl presently commanding that none should be harmed, but those that did make resistance, or bear armour: the Soldiers also being willing to show favour towards their countrymen, as led into this action, partly upon simplicity, partly to accompany these which came upon fear. Then the Gentlemen were still retained in the Earl's company, the common soldiers were despoiled of their armour only, and so returned again to their peaceable business at home. And this was the first act whereby reputation did rise to the side, and the greatness began, whereunto the Earl afterwards attained.  
The Duke of Ireland, at the beginning of his flight, was desirous to have passed the river which ran by: and coming to a bridge, he found the same broken: from thence he posted to another bridge, which he found guarded with Archers. At the last, his fearfulness being feared away (as nothing maketh men more desperate upon a doubtful danger, then fear of that which is certain) he adventured to take the stream; in the midst whereof, he forsook his horse, and swum to the other side, and so by benefit of the night escaped, and fled into Scotland: and shortly afterpassed the seas into Flanders, and from thence travailed into France: where the continual gall of his grief soon brought his loathed life to an end. His horse was taken with his breastplate, his helmet and his gauntlets, whereupon it was generally supposed that he was drowned; and (as in great uncerteineties it often happeneth) some affirmed that they saw his death, which men either glad to hear, or not curious to search, did easily believe: whether this were thus contrived of purpose, or fell so out by chance, it was a great means of his escape, by staying the pursuit after him, which otherwise had been made. His coach also was taken, and certain of the King's letters found, wherein he desired the Duke to come to London with all the power and speed he could make, and he would be ready to die in his defence; so unskilful was he in matters of government, that to pleasure a few, he regarded not the discontentment of all the rest.  
The Earl of Suffolk, upon this accident, shaved his beard, and in base and disguised attire fled to Calais, and either for fear, or for shame, never after returned into England: he was a cruel spoiler, and a careless spender, in war contemptible, in peace in supportable, an enemy to all cousaile of others and in his own conceit obstinately contentious; of a good wit, and ready speech, both which he abused, to the cunning commending of himself, and crafty depraving of others: he was less loved but better heard of the King than the Duke of Ireland: the more hurtful man & the more hateful: the Duke being charged with no great fault: but only the King's excessive favour; in their course of good and bad fortune, both of them were famous alike. Also the Archbishop of York, justice Trisiliane, and others of that faction, ran every man, like coneyes to their covert: Yea the king betook himself to the Tower of London, and there made provision for his winter abode; having all his courses now crossed, first rashness in taking arms, and afterwards by cowardice in maintaining them.  
The Earl of Derby signified this success to his associates by letters, yet without any vaunting or enlarging terms: his speeches also were moderate, rather exstenuating his fact then extolling it: but by stopping his fame, it much increased when men esteemed his high thoughts by his lowly words, and his conceit in great exploits, by his contempt of this. Then the Lords met, and marched together towards London, whether they came upon S. Stephen's day, having almost forty thousand men in their army, & first they showed themselves in battle array, in the fields near unto the Tower, within the view of the King: afterwards, they took up their lodging in the suburbs, the Mayor and aldermen of the city came forth, and gave liberal allowance, of victual to the soldiers, offering unto the lords entertainment within the City, but they did not accept it.  
Now this discord seemed to draw to a dangerous distraction of the commonwealth; the vanquished part being full of malice, and the conquerors of presumption: the one wanting power, the other right to command and rule. The Archbishop of Canterbury, and certain others of the neutrality, fearing the sequel, persuaded the king to come to a treaty with the lords: but he made show of very light regard of all these dealings; let them stay (said he) until they have wearied themselves with maintaining this multitude, and then I will talk further with them. When the lords understood the drift of his devise they beset the thames, & all other passages, and protested that they would not depart until they had talked with him to his face. The king having neither strength to resist, nor scope to scape, consented to a treaty, and to that end desired the lords to come to him into the Tower: but they refused that place of meeting, upon fear of false measure, until the king permitted them to search as diligently, and come as strongly as they thought it meet. So they came unto the King well guarded, and after a few cold kindnesses, and strange salutations, they laid before him, his proceed against them at Nottingham; his letters which he sent to the duke of Ireland contrary to his word, for the raising of arms against them: his agreement with the French King, for the yielding up of Calais and other strong holds which he possessed in those parts: with divers other points of dishonourable dealing and negligent government. What should the King then have said or done? all these matters were so evident and so evil, that there was no place left either for denial or defence. Therefore ingenuously, first with silence and patience, afterwards with tears he confessed his errors. And certainly the stiff stomach of the lords relented more to these lukewarm drops then they would have done to his cannon shot.  
Then it was agreed, that the next day the King should meet with them at westminster, and there treat further, both of these, and other necessary affairs of the realm. So the Duke, and the rest of the lords departed except the earl of Derby, who stayed supper with the king, and all that time stayed him in his promised purpose: but when he was also gone, some of the secret counsellors, or corrupters rather, and abusers of the King, whistled him in the ear, that his going to Westminster was neither seemly nor safe, and would cause not only to his person present danger and contempt, but also both abasement and abridgement to his authority afterwards. The King's mind was soon changed; but the Lords being now stirred, and feeling the King's hand weak to govern the bridle, became the more vehement, and sent him word, that if he did ieofaile with them, and not come according to appointment, they would choose another King, who should have his nobility in better regard. This peremptory message so terrified the King, that he not only went to Westminster, but suffered the Lords to do there even what they would. So they caused him much against his liking, to remove out of the court, Alexander Nevil, Archbishop of York, john Ford, Bishop of Durisme, Friar Thomas Rushoke, Bishop of Chichester, the king's Confessor: Likewise they removed the Lord Souch, the Lord Haringworth, Lord Burnell, Lord Beaumonte, Sir Albred Vecre, Sir Baldewine Bereford, Sir Richard Alderburie, Sir john Worth, Sir Thomas Clifford, & Sir john Lovel, taking sureties for their appearance at the next Parliament. Also certain Ladies were expelled the Court, and put under sureties: to wit, the Lady Mown, the Lady Moling, and the Lady Ponings, which was the wife of Sir john Worth. Furthermore, they arrested Simon burly, William Elinghame, john Salisbury, Thomas Trivet, james Berneis, Nicholas Dagworth, and Nicholas Brambre Knights, Richard Clifforde, john Lincoln, and Richard Motford, clerk, john Beauchampe the King's Steward, Nicholas Lake, Deane of the King's Chapel: and john Blake counsellor at the Law, all these were committed to divers Prisons, where they were forthcoming, but not coming forth, until the Parliament next following.  
After the feast of the Purification, 
1388.  the Parliament began at London, and yet the King used many means, either to dash or defer the same) to which the Lords came, attended with the number and strength of a full army: upon colour, to repress any riot that might happen to arise: but in truth, that by this terror, they might draw the whole manage of affairs unto themselves. This assembly continued until Whitsuntide next following, with very great fear of some men, and hope of others, and expectation of all. Herein was justice Trisiliane, by counsel of the Lords, against the King's mind, condemned to be drawn and hanged: which judgement was presently executed upon him: the like sentence and execution passed upon Sir Nicholas Brambre, Sir john Salisbury, Sir james Barneis, john Beauchampe, the King's steward, and john Blake Esquire, who had framed the Articles which were exhibited against the Lords at Nottingham. Also the justices who gave their judgement concerning those Articles, Robert Belk●ape, john Holte, Roger Fulthorpe, and William Burghe, were condemned to perpetual exile: and yet they did not interpose themselves, but intermeddle by constraint. Sir Simon Burlye was also beheaded, who was keeper of Dover Castle, and had conspired to deliver the same unto the Frenchmen: he was infinitely haughty and proud, equal to the meanest in virtue and wisdom, but in bravery and train inferior to no Duke divers other were either put to death, or banished, and, some (as it happeneth when the rain of fury is at large) without any great cause. The Earl of Derby furthered no man's death; but laboured very instantly for the life and liberty of many, in so much as hot speeches did arise between the Duke of Gloucester and him: whereby he purchased a favourable opinion among those of the contrary part, having caused the death of no man, but only in the field. Then was an oath exacted of the King, to stand to the government of the Lords: and also an oath was taken of all the Subjects within the Realm, to be true and faithful unto the King. The king in taking this oath of the Lords, bewrayed his inward conceit by his open countenance, looking pleasantly on those he favoured, and angrily on those whom he hated; by which untimely discovery, he made them more heedful, and himself more hateful: which were occasions afterward, both to prevent the revenge, which he much desired, and to procure the mischiefs which he little feared. Lastly, a subsidy was granted: and to the King coming as it were to a capitulation with the lords, he to have the name of a King, and they the authority and majesty, the contention for that time ceased.  
All this was done in the xj. year of the king's reign, he being yet under age, 
1389  and in government of others. But the year following, he began to take upon him more liberty and rule: and upon extreme disdain, that both his pleasure and his power were by the Lords thus restrained, he did ever after bear a hard mind against them. And first he assembled them in the Council chamber, and there demanded, of what years they took him to be: they answered, that he was somewhat above one and twenty: then (said he) I am of lawful age to have the regiment in mine own hand, and therefore you do me wrong to hold me still under government, as though the condition of a king were harder than of a subject. This the Lords were neither willing to grant, nor able to deny, and therefore they either kept silence, or spoke little to the purpose. Well (said the king) since I am no longer an Infant, I here renounce your rule, and take upon me such free administration of the Realm, as the Kings thereof, my predecessors heretofore have lawfully used. Then presently he began his Phaeton's flourish, and commanded the Bishop of Elie being L. Chancellor to resign his seal; which the king received, and put up, and therewith departed out of the chamber: but soon after he returned again, and delivered the same to William Wickham bishop of Winchester, constituting him L. Chancellor thereby. Many other officers he likewise deposed, and placed new in their room; partly to manifest his authority, and partly to satisfy his displeasure. Also he removed the Duke of Gloucester, the Earl of Warwick, and many others from his Privy council, and took those in their places, which more regarded the humour of the King, but less his honour.  
Soon after, it was suggested to the King, that the Duke of Gloucester was gathering of forces against him; but upon examination there was found not only no truth, but no show or colour of any such matter. The Duke would not quietly have digested the raising of these reports: but the King, whether upon a general delight, to be tickled in the ears with such tales, or upon particular desire to have some quarrel against the Duke, charged him to silence.  
In the 13. year of the Reign of King Richard, the Citizens of Genua desired his aid, 
1390.  against the Barbarians of Africa, who with daily incursions, infested and spoiled all the Sea coasts & islands of Italy, and France, which fronted upon them. The King sent a choice company of Soldiers, ynder the conduct of Henry Earl of Derby; who behaved himself in this charge with great integrity & courage, inciting his men, the good by praise, the bad by example rather than reproof, as more ready to commend the virtues of the one, then to upbraid the vices of the other. And first he passed into France, and there joined himself to certain French forces, appointed likewise for this service: then with might and minds united, they sailed together into Africa. At their arrival, the Barbarians were ready in arms, to keep them from landing: but the Earl commanded his Archers to break through and make passage, despising the enemy, whom he knew to be weak, and unskilful in service, and not to have that advantage in place, which he had in men: the Frenchmen also sharply set in & seconded the English: and so whilst both companies contended, the one to be accounted a help, & the other to seem to need no help, the enemies were forced to fly, and leave the shore unto the Christians. In this conflict, three Dukes of the Barbarians and above three hundred Soldiers were slain, and in the flight, four Dukes were taken, and a great, yet uncertain number of common people. Then the Christians marched directly towards Tunis, the head City of that Country▪ this they besieged, & in short time took, chiefly by the prows of the English soldiers, who first scaled the Walls, and reared thereon the Earl's banner. When they were entered the Town, the Englishmen bent their endeavour, to the housing of their enemies, and beating down of such as made resistance, but the Frenchmen strait ways turned to their lascivious pleasures: so that there was presented a spectacle, both pitiful and shameless: in one place butchering of men, in another rioting with women: here streams of blood, & heaps of slaughtered bodies, hard by dissolute and licentious wantonnesses in some, all the miseries of a cruel war, and the looseness of a secure peace. Here were slain and taken above four thousand Barbarians: the King's brother also was slain: but the King himself fled into the Castle, which was strongly scited, and well fortified and furnished with men. The Christians laid siege to this Castle the space of five weeks, during which time, they lost many of their men, yet not by sword, but by sickness: the Barbarians also were distressed with want of victual, having but little provision, and many unprofitable mouths to consume it: hereupon they sent unto the Christians, to desire peace, offering them a great sum of money, to departed out of their country: this the Christians accepted, upon condition, that they might also freely carry with them, all their prey and prisoners; and that the Barbarians should from thenceforth surcease from making spoil, upon any of the coasts of Italy, or France. Thus had this voyage a prosperous and speedy end: the only service (as I suppose) which the English and Frenchmen performed together, without jot of jar. And yet the Earl abused not the fortune of this success, to vain vaunting, or braving in words, but moderately imparted to the rest, the honour of the exploit: so by valyan●y performing his charge, and sparingly speaking thereof, his glory increased, without bit of envy.  
In the fifteenth and sixteenth years of the reign of King Richard, 
1392  certain causes of discontentment did grow, between the King and the Londoners, 
1393  which set the favour of the one, and the faith of the other, at great separation and distance: One was, for that the King would have borrowed of them a thousand pounds: which they feeling much; and fearing more the King's daily exactions, did not only deny, but evil entreated a certain Lombard, who offered to lay out the money.  
Another grief was thus occasioned: One of the Bishop of Salisburies' servants, named Roman, meeting in Fleetstreet with a Baker's man, bearing horsebread, took a loaf out of his basket: and by rude demand of the one, and rough denial of the other, chollar so kindled betwixt than, that Roman brake the Baker's head. Hereupon the neighbours came forth, and would have arrested this Bishops lusty yeoman: but he escaped, and fled to the Bishop's house. The Constable followed peaceably, and demanded a quiet delivery of the offender: but the Bishop's men shut the gates against him, that no man could come near. Then much people flocked together, threatening to break open the gates, and fire the house, unless Roman were brought forth unto them: What (said they) are the Bishop's men privileged? or is his house a sanctuary? or will he protect those whom he ought to punish? if we may be shuffled off in this sort, not only our streets, but our shops and our houses shall never be free from violence and wrong. This we will not endure: we can not: it standeth not us in hand. Herewith they approached the gates, and began to use violence: but the Mayor and sheriffs of the City, upon advertisement of this tumult, came amongst them, crying out, that it was not courage, but outrage which they showed: whereby they would procure, both danger to themselves and displeasure against the whole City; that although wrong had been received, yet they were not the men, nor this the means to redress the same: So partly by their persuasions, partly by their presence and authority, they repressed the riot, and sent every man away, with straight charge to keep the peace. Here was yet no great harm done, and the quarrel might have been quieted without more ado, had not the Bishop stirred therein, and kindled the coals of unkindness a fresh. For the Londoners at that time, were not only suspected secretly, but openly noted to be favourers and followers of wickliffs opinions: for which cause, they were much maliced of the Bishops; and many of their actions interpreted, to proceed from another mind, and tend to a worse end, than was outwardly borne in countenance and show: and some matters of chance, were taken as done of purpose. Therefore the Bishop of Salisbury called john Waltham, who was also treasurour of England, made a grievous complaint of this attempt, to Thomas Arundle Archbishop of York, and Lord Chancellor; affirming, that if upon every light pretence, the citizens might be suffered in this sort to insult upon the bishops, without punishment, without reproof and blame, they would bring into hazard, not only the dignity and state: but the liberty also of the whole Church: did they not lately take upon them the punishment of adulteries, and other crimes appertaining to ecclesiastical jurisdiction? maliciously alleging, that the bishops and their officers, either being infamous for those vices themselves, did wink at the same in others: or else by covetous commutation, did rather set them to sale, then care fully repress them. Did they not rudely and unreverently break open the doors upon the Archbishop of Canterbury, and interrupt his proceed against john Astone, an open follower of wickliff? and do we think that this is the last indignity that they will offer? no surely, nor yet the least: and if this boldness be not beaten down, our authority will fall into open contempt and scorn, and be made a common football, for every base citizen to spurn at. Hereupon they went together to the King, and so incensed his displeasure against the Londoners, (being prepared thereto by former provocations) that he was in the mind to make spoil of the city, and utterly to destroy it. But being persuaded to some more moderation in revenge, first he caused the 〈◊〉 and sheriffs, and many of the chief citizens to be apprehended, and committed to divers several prisons: then he c●zed all the liberties of the city into his hands, and ordained, that no Mayor should any more be elected, but that the King should at his pleasure appoint a Warden and gouernon● over the city. This office was first committed to Sir Edward Darlington, who for his gentleness towards the citizens, was shortly after removoed, and Sir Baldwine Radington placed in his room. Also the King was induced, or rather seduced by the Archbishop of York Lord Chancellor, to remove the Terms and Courts: to wit, the Chancery, the Exchequer, the king's bench, the hamper, and the common pleas, from London, to be kept at York, where the same continued from midsummer, in the year 1393. until Christmas next following, to the great hindrance and decay of the city of London. At the last, the King upon earnest entreaty of the Duke of Lancaster, and the Duke of Gloucester, called the Londoners before him at Windsor: where (having first terrified them with the presence and show of a great number of armed men) he caused all the privileges of the city, both old and new, to be brought forth, whereof he restored some, and restrained the rest: yet the Londoners were not fully received to favour; neither recovered they at that time, either the person or dignity of their Mayor. Shortly after, the King went to London: at whose coming, the citizens changed all their grief into gladness (as the common fort is without measure in both) entertaining him with such joyful triumphs and rich presents, as if it had been the day of his coronation. They supposed with these great courtesies and costs to have satisfied his displeasure; but they sound themselves far deceived: for they were not fully restored to their liberties again, until they had made fine, to pay unto the King ten thousand pounds. Thus did the Londoners manifest in themselves, a strange diversity of disposition, both licentiously to commit offenced, and patiently to endure punishment: having rashness and rage so tempered with obedience, that they were easily punished, who could not possibly be ruled. Yet for this cause, so soon as first occasion did serve against the King, they showed themselves, either his earnest enemies, or faint friends.  
King Richard in the nineteen year of his reign, passed the seas to Calais: the French king also came down to Arde: between which two Towns, a place was appointed, and tents erected for both the kings to meet. After large expenses on both fides, and great honour done by the one king to the other: a surcease of arms was concluded between them for thirty years: and king Richard took to wife Lady Isabella, the French Kings daughter, being not above seven or eight years old. The Duke of Gloucester was so offended; both with this friendship, and assinitie, that he lost all manner of patience: exclaiming, that it was more meet to be in arms, then in amity with the Frenchmen, who being inferior to the English in courage, did always overreach them in craft, and being too weak for war, did many times prevail by peace: that now they had got into their hands many Towns and Holds, appertaining to the crown of England, they were willing to conclude a peace, to exclude the King thereby from his possessions: but whensoever occasion should change for their advantage, they would be then as ready to start from the friendship, as at that present they were to strike it: that the French Kings daughter, being but a child, was very unmeet for the marriage of King Richard, as well for disparity of age, as for that the King had no issue by his first wife, and was not like to have any by this, except (perhaps) in his old and withered years. When the Duke saw, that with these motives he did nothing prevail, he suborned the Londoners, to make petition to the King, that se●●g there was peace with France, he would release them of the Subsidy which they had granted to him in regard of those warns. This suit was instantly followed, and much perplexed the King, until the Duke of Lancaster declare to the people, that the King had been at the charge and dispense of three hundred thousand pounds in his voyage into France, for the procuring of this peace: whereupon they were pacified, and desisted from their demand.  
The year following, Guido Earl of S. Paul's, was sent into England by Charles King of France, 
1397  to visit and salute in his name, King Richard, and Queen Isabella his wife, the French Kings daughter. To this Earl, the King did relate, with what fervency the Duke of Gloucester contended, to make disturbance of the peace between England and France: how, because his mind was not therein followed, he moved the people to seditious attempts, bending himself wholly to maintain discord and disquiet, rather in his own country, than not at all. He further reported, what stiff strifes in formert●●es, the Duke had stirred: which, howsoever they were done, yet as they were declared, they sounded very odious and hard. When the Earl heard this, he presently answered, that the Duke was too dangerous a subject to be permitted to live: that greatness was never safe, if it grow excessive and bold: that the King must not affect the vain commendation of clemency, with his own peril: and that it touched him, both in honour to revenge the disgraces which he had received, and in policy to prevent the dangers which he had cause to fear. These words of sharpened the King's displeasure, that from thenceforth he busied his brains in no one thing more, than how to bring the Duke to his end. Now he began to pry more narrowly into his demeanour: to watch his words: to observe actions: and always to interpret them to the worst▪ framing himself to many vain and weedlesse feare● Often times he would complain of him to the Duke of La●ster, and the Duke of York, how fierce and violent he was in his speeches, and cross to him in all matters. The Dukes would make answer, that the Duke of Gloucester their brother, was in deed, more hot and vehement than they did commend: yet his fierceness was joined with faithfulness, and his crossness proceeded from a care, lest the Commonwealth should decrease either in honour or in possessions: and therefore the King had neither need to fear, nor cause to disslike.  
About that time, the Dukes of Lancaster and of York withdrew themselves from the court, to their private houses: the duke of Gloucester also went to lie at Plashey, near Chelmessorde in Essex: upon advantage of which separation, the King stood distracted in mind, between fear to differ, and shame to avow the destruction of the Duke, lest he might happily be disappointed by the one, or dishonoured by the other. Hereupon he entered into counsel with john Holland, Earl of Huntingdon, his half brother: and Thomas Mowbray, Earl of Nottingham, how the Duke of Gloucester might be suppressed or oppressed rather, the cruclty which was but wavering in the King, yea wanting by nature, was soon confirmed by evil advise: and being once inclined to blood, he did not fail, either of example of●ewd action to follow, or direction of cruel counsel what to do: so the plot was contrived, and according thereto, the King and the Earl of No●tingham rod● together into Essex, as though it were to disport themselves in hunting: when they were in the midst of the Forest, the Earl made stay, and the King passed forth with a small and unsuspicious company to the Duke, lying at Plashey: there he stayed dinner: and then pretending occasion of present return, he desired the Duke to accompany him to London, the fair entreaty of a Prince, is a most forcible command: therefore the Duke supposing that only to be intended in deed, which was pretended in show, 〈◊〉 to horseback with the King, taking such small attendance, as upon the sudden could be in a readiness, and appointing the rest to come after him to London. So they road together, using much familiar talk by the way, until they came near the place of await: then the King put his horse forward, and the Duke coming behind, was suddenly intercepted and stayed, crying aloud, and calling to the King for his help: the King continued his journey, as though he had not heard, and the Duke was violently carried to the Thames, and there shipped in a vessel laid for the purpose, and from thence conveyed over to Calais.  
When the King came to London, he caused the Earl of Warwick also to be arrested and sent to prison, the same day that he had invited him to dinner, and showed good countenance, and promised to be gracious Lord unto him. Upon the like dissembled show, the Earl of Arundel, and his son, and certain others were arrested also, and committed to prison in the isle of Wight.  
The common people, upon the apprehending of these three noble men, whom they chiefly, and almost only favoured, were in a great confusion and tumult; and there wanted but a head to draw them to sedition: every man sorrowed, murmured, and threatened, and daring no further, stood waiting for one to lead them the way: all being ready to follow that, which any one was loath to begin. The Duke of Lancaster and of York gathered a strong army, and came therewith to London, where they were readily received by the citizens, although the King had commanded the contrary: but this seemed to be done, rather for guard to themselves, than regard to any others.  
The king all this time, kept at a village called Helhame, within four miles of London, having about him a great power of armed men, which he had gathered out of Cheshire and Wales: and to paci●●● the common people, he caused to be proclaimed, that the Lords were not apprehended upon old displeasures, but for offences lately committed, for which they should be appealed by order of law, and receive open trial, in the Parliament next following: the like message was sent to the Duke of Lancaster, and the Duke of York, lying at London: to whom the King made faith, for the safety of their persons, and indemnity of their goods, and that nothing should be attempted without their privity and advise: all this was as rashly believed, as it was craftily given out: whereupon the Dukes dissembled their fears, and dissolved their forces, and remained in expectancy what would ensue.  
A little before the feast of Saint Michael, the Parliament began at London, wherein Sir john Bushie, Sir William Bagot, and Sir He●rie green, were principal agents for the King's purpose. These were then in all the credit and authority with the King, and his chiefest Schoolmasters both of cruelty and deceit: they were proud, arrogant, and ambitious, and upon confidence of the King's favour, professed enemies to men of ancient Nobility; to the end▪ that being lately start up, they might become more famous by maintaining contention with great persons. And first, by their importunate travail, all the Charters of pardon, granted by the King, were in this Perliament annulled and revoked. Then the prelate's did constitute Sir Henry Percy their procurator, and departed the house, because they might not be present in judgement of blood. Lastly, the Earl of Arundel, and the Earl of Warwick were arraigned; and for the same offences, for which they had been pardoned (namely for encroaching to themselves royal power in judging to death Simon Burlye, john Berneis and others, without the King's consent) were condemned to be hanged, drawn, and quartered: but the King so moderated the severity of this sentence, that the Earl of Arundel was only he headed, and the Earl of Warwick committed to perpetual imprisonment in the isle of man..  
The Duke of Gloucester, was so greatly favoured, that it was thought a point both of policy and peace, notto bring him to his open answer, but to put him to death secreately: so he was strangled under a feather bed at Calais by the Earl of Nottingham, being then Earl Martial: which death, howsoever he deserved; yet dying as he did, not called, not heard, he died as guiltless.  
In this same Parliament, Thomas Arundel Archbishop of Caunterburie was also accused, for executing the commission against Michael Delapoole, Earl of Suffolk: for which cause, his temporalties were seized; his lands and goods forfeited, as well in use, as in possession: and himself was adjudged to exile, & charged to departed the realm, within six weeks then next ensuing. So he went into France, where afterwards, he became a principal mean of the revolt which followed. Also the Lord Cobham was exiled into the isle of Gernsey: and Sir Reinolde Cobham was condemned to death, not for entering into any attempt against the King, but because he was appointed by the Lords to be one of his governors, and of his counsel, in the 11. year of his reign:  
Now the King falsely supposing, that he was free from all dangers, and that the humour against him, was clean purged and spent, conceived more secret contentment, than he would openly bewray; as more able to dissemble his joy, then conceal his fear: being so blinded and bewitched, with continual custom of flatteries, that he perceived not, that the state of a Prince is never established by cruelty and crafce. On the other side, the common people were much dismayed, having now lost those whom they accounted their only helps, and their only hopes, both for their private affairs, and for supporting the state: and because these mishapes happened unto them, for maintaining a cause of common dislike, the people's stomach was stirred thereby to much hate and hearte-burning against the King. And to make their deaths the more odious, the Earl of Arundel was reputed a martyr, and pilgrimages were daily made to the place of his burial: the rumour also was current, but without either author or ground, that this his head was miraculously fastened again to his body: this whilst all men affirmed, and no man knew, the King caused the corpses to be taken up, and viewed, ten days after it was interred: and finding the cause to be fabulous, he caused the ground to be paved where the Earl was laid, and all mention of his burial to be taken away, forbidding publicly and such speeches of him afterwards to be used: but this restraint raised the more: and they, who if it had been lawful, would have said nothing, being once forbidden could not forbear to talk. It was also constantly reported, that the King was much disquieted in his dreams with the Earl, who did often seem to appear unto him, in so terrible and truculent manner, that breaking his fearful, sleep he would curse the time that ever he knew him.  
In the one and twenty year of the reign of K. Richard, 
1398  Henry Earl of Derby, was created Duke of Herforde: at which time the King created four other Dukes: to wit, Duke of Aumerle, who was before Earl of Rutland: Duke of Southrey, who was before Earl of Kent: Duke of Excester, who was before Earl of Huntingdon: and Duke of Norfolk, who was before Earl of Nottingham. This degree of honour long time after, the conquest of the No●mans (whose chiefest rulers had no higher title) was accounted too great for a subject to bear: the form of the commonwealth, being framed by the victors, far from equality of all, and yet the King excepted without eminency of any. At the length King Edward the third created his eldest Son Edward Duke of cornwall, and made this honour hereditary, conferring it unto many: since which time, diverse princes of this land, have been either put, or kept, or hazarded from their estate, by men of that quality and degree. The King likewise created the Countess of Norfolk, Duchess of Norfolk: the Earl of Somerset, marquess of Somerset: the Lord Spencer Earl of Gloucester, the Lord Nevil, Earl of Westmoreland: the Lord Scroupe, Earl of Wiltshire: and the Lord Thomas Darcy his steward, Earl of Worcester. Among these; he made division of a great part of the lands of the Duke of Gloucester, and of the Earls of Arundel and warwicke: supposing by this double liberality, of honour and possessions: to have purchased to himself most firm friendships, but bought friends for the most part, are seldom, either satisfied, or sure: and like certain Ravens in Arabia, so long as they are full, do yield a pleasant voice: but being empty, do make a horrible cry.  
Now the Duke of Hereford, raised his desires, together with his dignities, and either upon disdain, at the undeserved favour and advancement of some persons about the King● or upon dislike, that the King was so dishonourably, both abused, and abased by them: or else (perhaps) upon desire, to manifest his own sufficiency in matters of controwlement and direction: being in familiar discourse with Thomas Mowbraye Duke of Norfolk, he broke into complaint, how the King regarded not the noble princes of his blood, and Peers of the Realm, and by extremities used to some, discouraged the rest from intermeddling in any public affairs: how in stead of these, he was wholly governed by certain newfound and newfangled favourites, vulgar in birth, corrupt in qualities, having no sufficiency either of council for peace, or of courage for war; who being of all men the most unhonest, and the most unable, with hatefulness of the one, and contempt of the other, were generally despised in all the Realm: that hereby: Frst the honour of the King's person was much blemished, for ungrate and ungracious adherentes, are always the way to hatred and contempt: Secondly, the safety of his state might be endangered; for extraordinary favour to men apparently of weak or bad desert, doth breed insolency in them, and discontentment in others, too dangerous humours in a commonwealth: Thirdly, the dignity of the Realm was much impaired: whose fortune and valour, being guided by the ill chance of such unlucky leaders: stood never in the like terms of doubt and distress; so that matters of peace, were tumultuous and uncertain, and archivements of war, were never brought to honourable conclufion: that Alexander Se●●●●s would have smoked such sellers of smoke; that Xerxes would have pulled their skin over their ears; and high time it was, that the King should look unto them: for the nobility grew out of heart, the commons out of hope, and all the people fell to a discontented murmuring. And this he said, (as he said) not for any grudge, but for grief and goodwill: and therefore desired the Duke who was one of the privy council, and well heard with the King, to discover unto him these deformities and dangers, that by repairing the one, he might happily repel the other.  
These words procured to the Duke of Hereforde, both great offence, and great glory: at the delivery whereof, the Duke of Norfolk made show of good liking, and promise of sincere dealing. And in deed, if they had been as faithfully reported by him, and by the King as friendly taken, as they were faithfully and friendly meant, many mischiefs might have been avoided: but both of these did fail: for the Duke of Norfolk, although in former times he had taken part with the Lords, yet afterwards, being desirous be accounted, rather among the great men, than the good, he made sale of his honour, to maintain his pleasure, and continue himself in grace with the King; to which he was altogether enthralled; insomuch, that the murdering of the Duke of Gloucester, and the execution of the Earl of Arundel, was to his charge especially committed, and supposing upon this occ●●aon to make a freehold of his prince's favour, he grievously aggravated these speeches in in reporting them, and yet cunningly to: with many lies intermixing some truths, or making the truth much more than it was. Again, the King not enduring the search of his sores, did bend his mind, rather to punish the boldness, then examine the truth of these reproofs: his ears being so distemspered with continuance of flattery, that he accounted all sharp that was sound, and liked only that, which was presently pleasant, and afterwards hurtful. Thus we may daily observe, that no strange accident doth at any time happen, but it is by some means foreshowed, or foretold: but because these warnings are oftentimes either not marked, or misconstrued, or else contemned, the events are accounted inevitable, and the admonitions vain.  
The King being in this sort touched by the one Duke, and tickled by the other, was not resolved upon the sudden, what to do: therefore he assembled his council, and called the two Dukes before him, and demanded of the Duke of Norfolk, if he would openly avouch that which he had suggested in secret. The Duke seeing it was now no time for him, either to shrink or shuftle in his tale, with a bold and confident courage, repeated all that before he had reported. But the Duke of Hereforde could not be borne down by countenance, where his cause was good: and therefore after a short silence, whereby he seemed, rather amazed at the strangeness of this matter, then abashed at the guilt, he made low obeisance to the King, and greatly both thanked and commended him, that he had not given hasty credit, to matters of such tender touch, as his grief might have borne out the blame of rashness in revenge; desiring him to continue yet a while, the respite of his displeasure, and to reserve his judgement free for indifferent audience. Then he declared in order, what speech had passed from him, upon what occasion, and to what end: all the rest he stoutly denied, affirming that it was falsely surmised by his adversary, either upon malice to pick a quarrel, or upon sycophancy to pick a thank, and that thereupon he was untrue, unjust, a forger of slanderous and seditious lies, whereby he treacherously endeavoured to seduce the King to destroy the Nobility, and to raise disturbance within the realm: and this he offered to prove upon him (if the King would permit) by the stroke of a spear, and by dint of sword. The Duke of Norfolk's stomach not used to bear scorn, could not digest these terms of disgrace: whereupon he stiffly stood to his first imputation: and for maintenance thereof, he accepted, and also desired the combat. The King would some other ways have quieted this contention, but the Dukes would agree to no other kind of agreement: and thereupon threw down their gloves one against the other, for gauges. The King seeing their obstinacy, granted them the battle, and assigned the place at the City of Coventry, in the month of August than next ensuing: where in the mean time, he caused a sumptuous Theatre, and lists royal to be prepared.  
At the day of combat, the two Dukes came, well banded with Noblemen and Gentlemen of their lineage. The Duke of Aumerle, for that day high constable, and the Duke of Surrey for the same time and action, high Marshal of England, entered into the lists, with a great troup of men appareled in silk sandal, embroidered with silver, every man having a tipped staff to keep the field in order. About the time of prime, the Duke of Hereford came to the barriers of the lists, mounted upon a white courser, barbed with blue & green velvet, embroidered gorgeously with Swans and Anti●ops of goldsmiths work, anned at all points, & his sword drawn in his hand. The Constable and Martial came to the barriers, and demanded of him, who he was. He answered: I am Henry duke of Hereford, and am come to do my devoir against Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk, as a traitor to God, the King, the Realm, and me. Then he swore upon the Evangelists, that his quarrel was right, & upon that point desired to enter the lists, than he put up his sword, pulled down his beavier, made a cross on his forehead, and with spear in hand, entered into the lists, and there lighted from his horse, & sat down in a charge of green velvet, which was set in a traverse of green & blue velvet at the one end of the lists: and so expected the coming of his enemic. Soon after, King Richard entered the field with great pomp, both in bravery and train: he had in his company, the Earl of S. Paul, who came purposely out of France to see this combat tried: he was attended with all the noble Peers of the Realm, and guarded with ten thousand men in arms, for fear of any sudden or intended tumult.  
When he was placed on his stage, which was very curiously and richly set forth, a King at arms made proclamation in the name of the King, and of the high Constable, and of the Marshal, that no man except such as were appointed to order and Marshal the field, should touch any part of the lists, upon pain of death. This proclamation being e●ded, another herald cried. Behold her?, Henry of Lancaster, Duke of Hereford, appellant, who is entered into the lists royal, to do this devoir, against Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk defendant, upon pain to be accounted false and recreant. The Duke of Norfolk was hovering on horseback at the entry of the lists, his horse being barbed with crimson velvet, embroadered richly with lions of silver, and mulberry trees, and when he had made his oath, before the Constable and Martial, that his quarrel was just and true, he entered the field boldly, crying aloud God aid him that hath the right, than he lighted from his horse, and sat down in a chair of Crimson velvet, curtained about with red and white damask, and placed at the other end of the lists. The Lord Martial viewed both their spears, to see that they were of equal length: the one spear he carried himself to the Duke of Hereford, and sent the other to the Duke of Norfolk by a Knight, This done, a Herald proclaimed, that the traverses and chairs of the combatants should be removed, commanding them in the King's name, to mount on horseback, and address themselves to the encounter, the Dukes were quickly horsed, and closed their beaviers, and cast their spears into the rests. Then the trumpetes sounded, and the Duke of Hereforde set forth towards his enemy, about fix or seven paces: but before the Duke of Norfolk began to put forward, the King cast down his warder, and the Heralds cried, ho: then the King caused the Duke's spears to be taken from them, and commanded them to forsake their horses, and return again to their chairs: where they remained; above two long hours, whilst the King deliberated with his counsel what was fittest to be done. At last, the Heralds cried silence: and Sir john Borcy a secretary of state with a loud voice, read the sentence and determination of the King and his counsel out of a long roll: wherein was contained, that Henry of Lancaster Duke of Hereford, appellant, and Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk, defendant, had honourably appeared that day within the lists royal, and declared themselves valiant and hardy champions; being not only ready, but forward and desirous to darrein the battle: but because this was a matter of great consequence & import, the King with the advise of his Council, thought it meet to take the same into his own hands: and thereupon had decreed, that H●nrie Duke of Hereford, because he had displeased the King, and for divers other considerations, should within 15. days next following, depart out of the Realm, and not to return during the term often years, without the King's especial licence, upon pain of death,  
When this judgement was heard, a confused noise was raised among the people, some lamenting either the desert, or the injury of the Duke of Hereforde, whom they exceedingly favoured: others laughing at the conceit of the King: first in causing, and afterwards in frustrating so great an expectation: wherein he seemed to do not much unlike Caligula; who lying in France with a great army near the sea shore, gave the sign of battle, set his men in array, marched forth as if it had been to some great piece of service, & suddenly commanded them all together cockles.  
Then the Heralds cried again, o yes: and the secretary did read on, how the King had likewise otdayned, that Thomas Moubraie Duke of Norfolk, because he had sown sedition, by words whereof he could make no proof, should avoid the realm of England, and never return again, upon pain of death: and that the King would take the profits and revenues of his lands, until he had received such sums of money as the Duke had taken up, for wages of the garrison of Calais, which was still unpaid: and that the King prohibited, upon pain of his grievous displeasure, that any man should make suit or entreaty to him, on the behalf of either of these two Dukes.  
These sentences being in this sort pronounced, the King called the two exiles before him, and took of them an oath, that they should not converse together in foreign regions, nor one willingly come in place where the other was: fearing (as it was like) lest their common discontentment should draw them, first to reconcilement, and afterward to revenge. But this policy was over weak for this purpose: for oaths are commonly spurned aside, when they lie in the way, either to honour or revenge: and if their united forces was much to be regarded, the● separate are powers was not altogether to be con●●●ed. Therefore the later plin●●● of this Realm, have with more 〈◊〉, wholly abolished the use of abjuration and 〈◊〉: and do either by death extinguish the power, or by pardon alter the will of great offenders, from entering into desperite and dangerous attempts: which men in 〈◊〉 and disgrace, have more vehemency to begin, and more 〈◊〉 to continue. When the 〈◊〉 had once so enclosed the Roman legions within certain straight, that they left them neither space to fight, nor way to fly: but without force enforced them to yield: they sent to Hre●●●us Pontius, an aged ruler of their state, for his advise, what were best for them to do: his answer was, that the Romans' should be permitted to departed, without any 〈◊〉 loss, orscorne. This pleased not such as 〈◊〉, ●●●her covetous for spoil, 〈…〉 for blood ● and therefore they sent unto him the second time: who then returned answer, that the Romans should be put to the sword, and not one man suffered to escape. The contrariety of these two counsels, brought the old man into suspicion of dotage: but he coming in person to the camp, maintained both to be good: the first whereof (which he thought best) would by unexpected favour, provoke the Romans to a perpetual friendship: the second would defer the wars for many years, wherein the enemies should hardly recover strength: third counsel, there was none that safely might be follows Yes (said the Samnites) to grant them their lives, yet with such conditions of spoil and shame, as the laws of victory do lay upon them. This is the way (answered Heren●ius) which neither winneth friends, nor weakeneth enemies: but will much increase the fury against us, & nothing diminish the force. And even so, in matters of more particularity, than course of punishment is out of course, which doth neither reclaim the mind of men, nor restrain the might from mischievous endeavours. But again to our purpose.  
The Duke of Norfolk, having now got a fall, where he thought to take his rest, repent his enterprise, and utterly condemned his light conceit of the King's lightness, and so with extreme grief and anguish of mind, he departed out of the Realm into Almain, and from thence traveled to Venice; where through violence of thought and discontentment, in short time he ended his days. This sentence of banishment was given against him the same day of the year wherein the Duke of Gloucester by his wicked means was strangled to death at Calais.  
The Duke of Hereford took his leave of the King at Eltham, who there struck away four years of his banishment & even offered himself to be fawned upon & thanked, for so odious a benefit. And this info●inate adventure he neither bate put ●aingloriusly, not yet took impatiently: but in the midst of his misery, retained still his reputation and honour; showing no sign of sorrow or submines in his countenance, nor letting fall any intemperate and unseemly word. The people as he departed, by heap● flocked about him, some to see, and some to salute him: lamenting his departure in such sort, as though their only light and delight did then forsake them: not sparing to exclaim, that it was against the law of arms, against the custom of the Realm, and against all right whatsoever, that he should exiled, who had done his honourable endeavour for the maintenance of his appeal. This affection was the more excecate, for that the duke was driven into exile by occasion of his liberal speeches against the most hateful persons in all Realm: & being the only noble man then alive, of the popular faction, the love was wholly accumulated upon him▪ which was before divided among the rest. And thus the Duke leaving England, took shipping, and passed the Seat to Galice, & from thence went into France: where he was honourably entertained by Charles the French King, and found such favour, that he should have taken to wife, the only daughter of john Duke Berrie, uncle to the King of France, but King Richard● fearing the sequel, if the favour which was borne to the Duke of Hereford within the Realm, should be strengthened with so great affinity in France, cast such stops in the way, that the marriage did not proceed.  
This year the Laurel trees withered, almost throughout the Realm, and afterwards against all expectation, recovered life & flourished again. The same year, in Christmas holidays, a deep river which rumneth between Snedlistorie and Hareswood, near to Bedford, suddenly stayed the stream: so that for three miles in length, the channel was left dry, and no course of water did hinder passage on foot. This was afterwards interpreted too presage, the revolt of the people, & the division which happened the year following: to these we may add certain other prodigies, either forged in that fabulous age, or happening commonly and of course, are then only noted, when any notable accident doth ensue. When K. Richard brought his first wife out of Beam, she had no sooner set foot within this land, but such a tempest did forthwith arise as had not been seen many years before: whereby divers ships within the haven were quashed to pieces, but especially, and first of all, the ship wherein the Queen was casried, this was the rather observed, because such stiff ●●ormes were likewise stirring: when the King brought his second wife out of France: wherein many ships perished, and a great part of the King's fardage was lost. At New castle upon Tine, as two shipwrites were squaring a piece of Timber, wheresoever they hewed, blood issued forth in great abundance. At one of the King's palaces, flies swarmed so thick, that they obscured the air: these fought together most fiercely, so that sackfuls lay ●eau upon the ground; and this continued so long, that scarce the third part of them (as it was thought) remained alive, many like accidents are recorded of that time; but I will maintain neither the truth of them, nor what they did portend: being a matter wherein most men are rather superstitious, than not credulous, and do oftentimes repute common occurrences to be ominous, when any strange event doth ensue. Yet as I am loath to avouch any vain and trifling matter, so dare I not detract all truth from things anciently reported; although done in an age wherein was some delight in lying; many do suppose, that those things which are fatally allotted, though they never be avoided, yet sometimes are foreshown: not so much that we may prevent them, as that we shuold prepare ourselves against them.  
In the two and twenty year of the reign of K. Richard, jothn of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster died, and was buried, on the northside of the high altar, of the Cathedral Church of S. Paul in London, he was a man advised and wary in his passages of life, liking better safe courses with reason, then happy by chance: of his own glory, he was neither negligent, nor ambitiously careful: towards the King he carried himself in terms honourable enough for a moderate prince, and yet not so plausible as a vain man would desire; whereby there never happened to him any extraordinary matter, either in prejudice, or preferment. After his death, the Duchy of Lancaster did in right devolve to the Duke of Hereforde, his eldest son: but the King (as the nature of man is inclinable, to hate those whom he hath harmed) seized all the lands and goods which appertained to the Duke of Lancaster, into his own hands; and determined to perpetuate the banishment of Duke Henry his son: revoking the letters patents, which were granted to him at his departure: whereby his general atturneiss were enabled to prosecute his causes and sue livery of any inheritance; which during his exile, might fall unto him, his homage being respited for a reasonable fine. The king supposed his estate more safe, by the weakness and want of the Duke, whom he had now in some jealousy and doubt? but these violent dealings were means rather to provoke his mischiefs, then to prevent them; for by injurious suppressing of the Duke's greatness, he greatly augmented the same.  
Edmund Duke of York, the King's only uncle which remained alive, had hitherto moved his patience, to endure many things against his liking: but now either in disdain of this indignity, or in distrust both of his own safety, and of the common tranquillity of the realm, he retired himself with the Duke of Aumerle his son, to his house at Langley: supposing privatnes to be the best defence, both from danger and blame, where neither the King had judgement to discern, nor any about him had, either heart or honesty to admonish what was done amiss; where an honourable fame was held suspected, and a good life more in hazard than a bad: protesting that none of these practices, were either devised by his counsel, or done by his consent.  
At this time, the whole frame of the state was much shaken, and matters of great weight and moment, did hang by a very slender thread. The King was plunged in pleasure and sloth: after whose example, others also (as men do commonly conform their minds according to the prince's disposition) gave over themselves to dilicacie and ease: whereby cowardice crept in, and shipwreck was made, both of manhood and glory. The chiefest affairs of state, had been ordered for a long time, according to private respects, whereby the commonwealth lost both the fat, and the favour, and seemed not at seasons and by degrees, but with a main course, and at once to ruinated and fall. The north parts were many times canvased, and by small, yet often losses, almost consumed by the Scots: who had there taken many towns and castles, and defaced all the country with slaughter and spoil. Likewise the south parts were oftentimes wasted by the Frenchmen: and in France many strong holds were lost. It was also constantly affirmed, that the King made agreement to deliver unto the King of France, the possossion of Calais, and of other towns which he held in those parts; but the performance there of was resisted by the lords whether this were true or surmised probably, as agreeable to the King's lose government, I cannot certainly affirm. As for Ireland, which in the time of K. Edward the third was kept in order and awe, by acquainting the people with religion and civility, and drawing them to delight in the plenty and pleasures of well reclaimed countries; whereby it yielded to the king's coffers, thirty thousand pounds every year: it was then suffered to run into waste, and the people by rudeness became intractible: so that the holding thereof charged the King, with the yearly dispense of thirty thousand marks. Many succours had been sent into these several countries; but scatteringly, and dropping, and never so many at once, as to furnish the wars fully. The King made some expeditions in his own person, with great preparation and charge: but being once out of credit, whatsoever fell out well, was attributed to others; misfortunes were inputed only to him. If any thing were happily achieved by some of the nobility, it was by the King's base hearted parasites, to whom military virtue was altogether unpleasant so extinuated, or depraved, or envied, that it was seldom rewarded, so much as with countenance and thanks: yea sometimes it procured suspicion and danger; the King being informed by a cunning kind of enemies, commenders, that to be a discreet and valiant commander in the field, was a virtue peculiar to a Prince: and that it was a perilous point, to have the name of a man of private estate, famous for the same in every man's mouth. Hereupon, few sought to rise by virtue and val●e, the readier way was, to please the pleasant humour of the Prince. Likewise matters of peace, were managed by●men of weakest sufficiency, by whose counsel either ignorant or corrupt, the destruction of the best hearted nobility, was many times attempted, & at the last wrought. The profits and revenues of the crown were said to be let to farm, the King making himself landlord of this realm, and challenged no great privilege by his reign, but only a dissolute and uncontrolled life. Great sums of money were yearly, rather exacted from the subjects, then by them voluntarily granted: whereof no good did ensue, but the maintenance of the King's private delights, & the advancement of his hateful favourites. To these he was somewhat above his power liberal: for which cause, he was feign to borrow, beg, and extort in other places: but he purchased not so much love by the one, as hate by the other. Besides the ordinary terms of tenths and fiftenthes, which were m●●ny times paid double in one year, divers new imposition● were by him devised & put in use: sometimes exacting xii. d. of every person throughout the realm: sometimes of every religious man and woman vi. s. viii. d. and of every secular priest as much, and of every lay person married or sole, xii. d. Under the favourable term of benevolence; he wiped away from the people such heaps of money, as were little answerable to that free and friendly name. He borrowed in all places of the realm great sums of money upon his privy seals, so that no man of worth could escape his loan: but he seldom, and to few, returned payment again.  
This present year, he sent certain Bishops, and other personages of honour, to all the shires & corporations within the realm, to declare unto the people the King's heavy displeasure against them, for that they had been abetters and complices of the Duke of Gloucester, and of the Earls of Arundel and Warwick: and that the King was minded to make a road upon them, as common enemies, except they would acknowledge their offence, and submit themselves to his mercy and grace. Hereupon, all the men of worth in every shire and Town corporate, made their acknowledgement & submission in writing under their scales; & afterwards were feign to grant unto the King, such importable sums of money, to purchase again his favour, as the land being already greatly impoverished, they were hardly able to endure. Then were exacted of them strange & unaccustomed oaths, which were put likewise in writing, under their seals. They were also compelled to set their hands and scales to blank charts; wherein the King might afterwards cause to be written what he would; so that all the wealth of the realm was in a manner at his devotion and pleasure. These and such like violences, were far wide from the moderate government of K. Henry the second: who maintaining great wars, and obtaining a larger dominion, then pertained at any other time to this realm of England, never demanded subsidy of his subjects: and yet his treasure after his death, was found to be nine hundred thousand pounds, besides his jewels, and his plate.  
In this sort the King bearing a heavy hand upon his subjects, and they again a heavy heart against him, and being withal a Prince weak in action, and not of valour sufficient to bear out his vices by might, the people at length resolved to revolt, and rather to run into the hazard of a ruinous rebellion, then to endure safety joined with slavery: so they attended occasion, which shortly after was thus offered. The King received letters of advertisement out of Ireland (which being privileged from other venomous beasts hath always been pestered with traitors) how the Barbarous Irish had cut in pieces his garrison, and slain Roger Mortimer Earl of Marsh, (who had been declared heir apparent to the Crown) exercising all the cruelty in wasting of the country, which wrath and rage of victory could incite a Barbarous people to practise. This loss being great in itself, the hard affection of the people did much augment by report: whereupon the King deliberated, whether it were requisite that he should undertake the war in person, or commit it to commanders of lower degree? Some persuaded him, that wholly to subdue Ireland, stood neither with policy, nor yet almost with possibility: for if it were fully and quietly possessed, some governor might hap to grow to that greatness, as to make himself absolute Lord thereof, and therefore it was better to hold it certain by weak enemies, then suspected by mighty friends, and yet by what means should those bogs & those woods be overcome, which are more impregnable, than the walled Towns of other countries? Then if the purpose were, only to repress the savage people, the war was of no such weight, as should draw the King to stand in the field: and therefore he might stay in the west parts of England, and from thence make show of the princely puissance and state; neither venturing his person without cause, and ready at hand if need should require. Others were of opinion, that to subdue and replenish Ireland, was a matter neither of difficulty nor danger: but both profitable and honourable to the King, and to God very acceptable. For if credit might be given to ancient histories, this realm of England was once as insuperable with bogs and woods, as Ireland was then: but the Roman conquerors kept not their presidiary Soldiers in idle garrison, whereby many times the mind grew mutinous, and the body diseased, and both unable for the labour and hardness of the field: but they held as well them, as the subdued. Britain's continually exercised, either in building of towns in places of best advantage; or in making of high ways: else in draining and paving of bogs: by which means the country was made fruitful and habitable, and the people learned the good manners, not rudely to repulse the flattering assaults of pleasure; preferring subjection with plenty, before beggarly and miserable liberty. That the same Romans' also kept many larger countries in quiet obedience, (so long as they were quiet among themselves) without either fear or danger of any governors: first by dividing them into small provinces: Secondly by constituting in every province divers officers, as Lieutenants and procurators, whereof one was able to restrain the other; the first having power over the bodies of the subjects, the second over their goods: thirdly, by changing these officers every year; which was too short a time to establish a sovereignty: Lastly, by retaining at Rome, their wives and children, and whole private estate, as pledges for their true demeanour. That the danger was rather to be feared, lest a weak enemy whilst he was cuntemned, should gather strength and be able to stand upon terms of withstanding: example hereof, happened when the Romans' overcame this Island; for many Britanes who upon no conditious would abide bondage, withdrew themselves into the Northparts of the land, & by maintaining their ancient custom of painting their bodies, were called of the Romans, Picti: these were neglected along time, and held in scorn, as neither of force, nor of number to be thought worthy the name of enemies: but afterwards they confederated themselves with other people, and so sharply assaulted the subdued Britain's, that being unable to resist, & the Romans shrincking from them, they were constrained to desire help of the Saxons: and so between their enemies & their, aids (being set as it were betwixt the beetle and the block) they lost the possession of the best part of their land. That it was a pitiful policy for assurance of peace, to lay all waste as a wilderness, and to have dominion over trees and beasts, and not over men. That hereby the King did lose the revenue of a fruitful country, & the benefit of wealthy subjects, which are the surest treasure that a Prince can have. That hereby also the majesty of his estate was much impaired: for (as Solomon saith) The honour of a king consists in the multitude of subjects. That the country being unfurnished of people, was open to all opportunity of foreign enemies. That if none of these respects would move: yet the King was bound in duty, to reduce those savages to the true worship of God, who did then either profanely contemn him, or superstitiously serve him.  
These reasons so weighed with the King, that he gathered a mighty army, determining to go in person into Ireland, & to pacify the country before his return: but all his provision was at the charge of the subjects: and whereas in time of sedition, a wise Prince will least grieve his people. As seeming to stand in some sort at their courtesy, & having to employ their bodies beside; the King in peace no stoarer for war, was forced to offend, when he should have been most careful to win favour. So about Whitsuntide, he set forth on his voyage with many men, and few soldiers; being a dissolute and untrained company, and out of all compass of obedience, he carried with him his whole treasure, and all the goods and ancient jewels appertaining to the crown. In his company went the Duke of Aumerle, and the Duke of Exeter, and divers other noble men, and many Bishops, and the Abbot of Westminster. He also took with him the sons of the Duke of Gloucester, and of the Duke of Hereford; whose favourours he chief feared.  
When he came to Bristol, he was put into suspicion, (whether upon some likelihood, or mere malice) that Henry Percy Earl of Northumberland and certain others, intended some disloyal enterprise against him: and for that cause did not follow him into Ireland, but had fastened friendship with the king of Scots, upon purpose to retire themselves into his country, if their attempts should fail. Hereupon the king sent message that the earl should forthwith come unto him with all the power that he could conveniently make. The earl returned answer, that it was unnecessary in respect of that service, to draw men from such distant places; for the Irish rebels were neither so many nor so mighty, but the King had strength at hand sufficient to suppress them: that it was also dangerous to disfurnish the North-parts of their forces, and to offer opportunity to the Scottish borderers, who were always uncertain friends in their extremities, and assured enemies upon advantage. The King seeing his commandment in these terms both contemned and controulled, would not stand to reason the matter with the Earl, neither had he the reason to defer revenge until he had full power to work it: but presently in the violence of his fury, caused the Earl and his confederates to be proclaimed traitors, and all their lands and goods to be seized to his use. The Earl took grievously this disgrace, and determined to cure & close up his harm with the disturbance of the common state. And thus the King having feathered these arrows against his own breast, passed forth in his journey into Ireland.  
This expedition at the first proceeded and succeeded exceedingly well, and the king obtained many victories, even without battle, as leading his men to a slaughter rather than to a fight: for the savage Irish were not under one government, but were divided into many partialities and factions, and seldom did two or three parts join their common strength and study together: so whilst one by one did fight, all of them were either subdued or slain. But these news little rejoiced the common people, they lusted not to listen thereto: their common talk was to recount their common grievances, to lay them together, & aggravate them by construction: every man more abounding in complaints than he did in miseries. Also the noblemen (the principal object of cruelty) began to discourse both their private dangers, & the deformities of the state: and upon opportunity of the King's absence, some of them did conspire to cut off that authority which would not be confined, & to cast it upon some other, who was most like to repair that which K. Richard had ruined: or if (said they) our power shall come short of so good a purpose, yet will we sell him both our lives & lands with glory in the field, which with certainty in peace we can not enjoy. The only man upon whom all men resolved, was Henry duke of Hereford (whom since the death of his father they called duke of Lancaster) not at his own motion or desire, but because he was generally esteemed meet: as being of the royal blood, and next by descent from males to the succession of the crown: one that had made honourable proof of his virtues and valour: the only man of note that remained alive, of those that before had stood in arms against the King, for the behoof of the Commonwealth: for which cause he was deeply touched at that time both in honour and in state. This attempt pleased as possible to prove, and of necessity to be followed: whereupon they secretly dispatched their letters to the Duke, soliciting his speedy return into England, & declaring that aswell for the benefit of the realm, as for their own particular safety, they were forced to use force against King Richard: that if it would please him to make the head, they would furnish him the body of an able army, to expel the King from his unfortunate government, and to settle the possession of the Crown in him, who was more apt and able to sustain the same: that they would not provide him a base multitude only, & they themselves help in bare wishes & advise, but would also adjoin their hands and thei● lives; so that the peril should be common to all, the glory only his, if fortune favoured the enterprise. These letters were conveyed by men crafty and bold, yet of sure credit, and inward in trust with the Duke: who passing into France, first associated unto them Thomas Arundel late Archbishop of Canterbury, & at that time (whether deservedly or without cause) an exile in France: then they travailed by several ways, and in counterfeit attire to Paris, where all met at the house of one Clugney, where the Duke them sojourned, After some courtesies of course, with welcome on the one side, & thanks on the other, and joy of both: the Archbishop of Canterbury having obtained of the Duke privacy and silence, made unto him a solemn oration in these words, or to this sense following.  
We are sent unto you (right high and noble Prince) from the chief Lords and states of our land, not to seek revenge against our King upon private injury and displeasure: nor upon a desperate discontentment to set the state on fire: nor to procure the ambitious advancement of any particular person: but to open unto you the deformities and decay of our broken estate, and to desire your aid, in staying the ruinous downfall of the same. The remembrance of the honourable reputation that our country hath borne, and the noble acts which it hath achieved, doth nothing else, but make the baseness more bitter unto us, wherinto it is new fallen. Our victorious arms have heretofore been famous and memorable, not only within the bounds of our Ocean sea, and in the islands adjoining unto us; but also in France, in Spain, and in other parts of Europe, yea in Asia and in Africa, against the infidels and Barbarians: so that all Christian Princes have been either glad to embrace our friendship, or loath to provoke us to hostility. But now the rude Scots, whose spirits we have so many times broken, and brought on their knees, do scornfully insult upon us: the naked and fugitive Irish, have shaken of our shackles, and glutted themselves upon us, with massachres & spoils: with these we daily fight, not for glory, but to live: insomuch as we are become a pity to our friends, and a very jest to our most base and contemptible enemies. In deed the King hath both sent and led great armies into these countries, but in such sort, that they have much wasted the realm with their maintenance; but neither revenged nor relieved it with their arms: and no marvel, for all our diligent and discreet leaders (the very sinews of the field) are either put to death, or banished, or else lie buried in obscurity and disgrace: and the marshalling of all affairs is committed (without any respect of sufficiency or desert) to the counsel & conduct of those, who can best apply themselves to the King's youthful delights. Among these, ancient nobility is accounted a vain jest, wealth, and virtue are the ready means to bring to destruction.  
It grieves me to speak, but it helpeth not, to hide that which every man seethe: our ancestors lived in the highest pitch and perfection of liberty; but we of servility, being in the nature, not of subjects, but of abjects, and flat slaves; not to one intractable Prince only, but to many proud & disdainful favourites; not always the same, but ever new; & no sooner have we satisfied some, but fresh hungry masters are strait ways set upon us, who have more endamaged us by extortion and bribes, than the enemy hath done by the sword. What unusual kinds of exactio●are daily put in practice? without either measure or end, and oftentimes with out need: or if any be, it proceedeth rather upon ryotus expenses, than any necessary or honourable charge: and great sums of money are pulled and peeled from good subjects, to be thrown away amongst unprofitable unthrifts. And if any man openeth his mouth against these extorted taxations, then either by feigned imputation of capital crimes, or by small matters aggravated, or else by open cruelty and force, his life or liberty is forthwith hazarded. I were too tedious, too odious, too frivolus to put you in mind of particular examples, as though your own estate, & the lamentable loss of your uncle, & other noble friends, could be forgotten: yea, I suppose that there is no man of quality within the Realm, who either in his own person, or in his near friends, doth not plainly perceive, that no man enjoyeth the safeguard of his goods, and surety of his body; but rich men in the one, & great men in the other are continually endangered. This then is our case; but what is our remedy? we have endured, & we have entreated: but our patience hath drawn on more heavy burdens, and our complaints procured more bitter blows: by the one our livings, and our lives by the other are daily devoured. And therefore we are now compelled to shake off our shoulders this importable yoke, and submit ourselves to the sovereignty of some more moderate and worthy person: not so much for the grief of our miseries which are past nor for the pain of our present distresses, as for fear of such dangers as are most like to ensue, for the King hath cut away the chief of the nobility, and the commons he hath pared to the quick, and still he harrieth us as a conquered country: whereby we are laid bare to the havoc of all our enemies, & utterly disabled, not only to recover that which is lost, but also to retain even that which is left. But to whom should we complain? what succour, whose aid should we desire? you are the only man, who in right should, and in wisdom can, and in goodness will (we hope) relieve us. For you are nearest to the King in blood, and therefore aught to have the rule of that which his weakness cannot wield. Your years are well stayed from the light conceits of youth, and so spent, that all your actions have made proof of ability in government of greatest charge: nothing past, needeth excuse, and fear is vain for any thing to come. The pains and perils which heretofore you have undertaken for the benefit of your country, putteth us also in good hope, that in these extremities you will not forsake us: we are all as in a ship that is ready to sink, as in a house that is ready to fall, & do most humbly crave and call for your help; now or else never show yourself in favour of your countrymen, to free us, to free yourself, to free the whole state from these dangers and decays, by taking into your hands the sceptre and diadem of the Realm, and reducing again the government thereof to a princely freedom; in combining the sovereignty of one, with the liberty of all. Omit not this occasion: to set forth to the view of the world, as in a large field, & at free scope your virtue and courage, by relieving miserable wretches from their oppressors: which action hath been so highly honoured, that many heathen men for the same, have been accounted as Gods. This we are constrained to offer and entreat: this is both honourable for you to accept, and easy to be performed: and so much the more, in that no Prince, by any people have been desired with greater affection, nor shall be with more duty obeyed.  
The Duke entertained this speech, with great moderation of mind, showing himself neither disturbed thereat, nor excessive in joy. His answer concerning the King, was respective and well tempered; rather lamenting his weakness then blaming his malice. Concerning himself he spoke so modestly, that he seemed rather worthy of a kingdom, then desirous. The life (quoth he) which hitherto I have led, hath always been free from ambitious attempts: and the staidness of my years, hath now settled my mind from aspiring thoughts: and experience of former dangers hath bred in me a wary regard in such weighty proceed, for to cast a King out of state, is an enterprise not hastily to be resolved upon, nor easily effected: but suppose that matter not impossible, and perhaps not hard, yet the rareness of the like precedents, will make the action seem injurious to most men: and he that shall attain a kingdom upon opinion of desert, doth charge himself with great expectation, and how honourably soever he carried himself, shall never want his deadly enviers: besides this, in civil dissensions the faith of the whole people is fleeting, and danger is to be doubted from every particular person: so that it is possible that all may fall away, and impossible to beware of every one. Therefore I could rather wish, to spend the course of my years which yet remain, in this obscure, yet safe and certain state, then to thrust myself upon the pikes of those perils, which being once entered into, are dangerous to follow, & deadly to forsake: for in private attempts, a man may step and stoup when he please: but he that aimeth at a kingdom, hath no middle course between the life of a Prince, & the death of a traitor.  
The Archbishop hearing this, did as vainly persist in importuning the duke, as he vainly seemed unwilling & strange. The state (said he) wherein now you stand, is not so safe and certain as you do conceive. In deed, by rejecting our request you shall avoid certain dignity, and therewith uncertain & contingent dangers; but you shall procure most certain destruction both to yourself and us. For this secret can not be kept long secret from the king: and even good princes are nice in points of sovereignty, & bear a nimble ear to the touch of that string: and it more hurteth a subject to be esteemed worthy of the kingdom, than it will profit him to have refused the offer. What then will he do, who putteth the chiefest surety of his reign in the baseness & bareness of his subjects? whose head being possessed with eternal jealousy, maketh every presumption a proof, and every light surmise a strong suspicion against them. Surely since the general favour & love which the people beareth you, hath bereaved you of your liberty, this their general desire will not leave your life untouched. As for us, if we either faint in our intent, or fail in the enterprise, actum est: we shallbe as lambs among lions: and no conquest can be so cruel as the King's reign will be over us. Certainly we have gone too far, for to go back; and the time is past, when you for ambition, & we for envy might seem to attempt against the King: the attainment of the kingdom must now be a sanctuary & refuge for us both. The like examples are not rare (as you affirm) nor long since put in practice, nor far hence to be fetched. The kings of Denmark and of Sweveland, are oftentimes banished by their subjects; oftentimes imprisoned & put to their fine: The princes of Germany, about an hundred years past, deposed Adulphus the Emperor: and are now in hand to depose their emperor Wences●aus. The earl of Flanders was a while since driven out of his Dominion by his own people, for usurping greater power than appertained to his estate. The ancient Britain's chased away their own King Carecious, for the lewdness of his life, and cruelty of his rule. In the time of the Saxon Heptarchic, Bernredus King of Mercia, for his pride and stoutness towards his people, was by them deposed. Likewise Aldredus & Ethelbertus Kings of Northumberland, were for their disorders expelled by their subjects. Since the victory of the normans, the Lords endeavoured to expel King Henry the third, but they were not able: yet were they able to depose King Edward the second, and to constitute his young son Edward King in his stead: these are not all, and yet enough to clear this action of rareness in other countries; & novelty in our. The difficulty indeed is somewhat, because the excellency is great: but they that are afraid of every bush, shall never take the bird: & yourself had once some trial hereof, when without battle, without blood or blows, you had the King at such a lift, as he held his Crown at your courtesy, even at that time when his grievances were, neither for greatness nor continuance, so intolerable as now they are grown: and by reason of his tender years, not out of all compass, both of excuse for the fault, and of hope for an amendment. And as concerning the lawfulness.  
Nay (said the Duke) where necessity doth enforce, it is superfluous to use speech, either of easiness, or of lawfulness: necessity will beat thorough brazen Walls: and can be limited by no laws. I have felt very deeply my part in these calamities, and I would you knew with what grief I have beheld your: for what other reward have I received, of all my travails and services, but the death of my uncle and dearest friends, my own banishment, the imprisonmeut of my children, and loss of my inheritance? and what have been returned to you, for your blood so often shed in his unfortunate wars, but continual tributes, scourges, gallows, and slavery? I have made sufficient proof, both of patience in my own miseries, and of pity in your: remedy them hither to I could not: If now I can, I will not refuse to sustain that part, which your importunity doth impose upon me, if we prevail, we shall recover again our liberty: if we lose, our state shall be no worse than now it is: and since we must needs perish, either deservingly or without cause, it is more honourable to put ourselves upon ●he adventure either to win our lives, or to die for desert: and although our lives were safe, which in deed are not, yet to abandon the state, one sleep still in this slavery; were a point of negligence and sloth. It remaineth then, that we use both secrecy and celerity, laying hold upon the opportunity which the King's absence hath now presented unto us: for in all enterprises which never are commended before they be achieved, delays are dangerous; and more safe it is to be found in action, then in counsel: for they that deliberate only to rebel, have rebelled already.  
So the messengers departed into England, to declare the Duke's acceptance, and to make preparation against his arrival, both of armour, and of subjection, and desire to obey. Presently after their departure, the Duke signified to Charles king of France, that he had a desire to go into Britain, ●o visit john Duke of Britain, his friend and kinsman. The King suspecting no further fetch, sent letters of commendation in his favour, to the Duke of Britain: but if he had surmised any dangerous drift against King Richard, who not long before, had taken his daughter to wife; in stead of letters of safeconducte, he would have found lets to have kept him safe from disturbing his son in laws estate.  
Assoon as the Duke was come into Britain, he waged certain soldiers, and presently departed to Calais, and so committed to sea for England; giving forth, that the only cause of his voyage, was to recover the Duchy of Lanchaster, and the rest of his lawful inheritance, which the King wrongfully detained from him. In his company was Thomas Arundel the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Thomas the son & heir of Richard late earl of Arundel, who was very young, and had a little before escaped out of prison, and fled into France to the Duke. The residue of his attendants were very few, not exceeding the number of fifteen lances: so that it is hard to esteem whether it was greater marvel, either that he durst attempt, or that he did prevail with so small a company: but his chiefest confidence was in the favour & assistance of the people within the realm. So he did bear with England, yet not in a straight course, but floated along the shore, making head sometimes to one coast, and sometimes to another, to discover what forces were in a readiness, either to resist or to receive him.  
As he was in this sort hovering on the seas, L. Edmund duke of York, the king's uncle, to whom the king had committed the custody of the Realm during the time of his absence, called unto him Edmund Stafford bishop of Chichester, L. Ghancellour, & W. Scroupe earl of Wiltshire, L. Treasurour of the Realm, also, Sir john Bushie, Sir Henry green, Sir William Bagot, Sir john Russell, and certain others of the kings Privy council; and entered into deliberation what was best to be done. At the last it was concluded, deceitfully by some, unskilfully by others, and by all perniciously for the king; to leave the sea coasts, and to leave London, the very walls & castle of the Realm, and to go to S. Albon, there to gather strength sufficient to encounter with the duke. It is most certain that the duke's side was not any ways more furthered, then by this dissembling and deceivable dealing: for open hostility and arms, may openly and by arms be resisted: but privy practices, as they are hardly espied, so are they seldom avoided. And thus by this means the duke landed about the feast of Saiud Martin, without let or resistance, at Rauenspur in Houldernesse, as most writers affirm.  
Presently after his arrival, there resorted to him Lord Henry Pearcie Earl of Northumberland, and Lord Henry his son Earl of Westmoreland, Lord Radulph Nevil, Lord Rose, Lord Willoughby, & many other personages of honour, whose company increased reputation to the cause, and was a great cowtenance and strength to the Duke's further purposes. And first they took of him an oath, that he should neither procure nor permit any bodily harm to be done unto King Richard; whereupon they bond themselves upon their honours to prosecute all extremities against his mischievous counsellors. And this was one step further than that which the Duke pretended at the first, when he took shipping at Calais, which was only the recovery of his inheritance: but that was as yet not determined, nor treated, and of some perhaps not thought upon; which afterwards it did ensue: and so was that place easily insinuated into by degrees, which with main and direct violence would hardlier have been obtained. Then the common people desperate upon new desires, and without head, headlong to matters of innovation, flocked very fast to these noble men, the better sort for love to the commonwealth, some upon a wanton lenetie, and vain desire of change, others in regard of their own● distressed and decayed estate, who setting their chief hopes and devices upon a general disturbance, were then most safe when the common state was most unsure. So between the one and the other, the multitude did in short time increase to the number of threescore thousand able soldiers.  
The Duke finding this favour not only to exceed his expectation, but even above his wish, he thought it best to follow the current whilst the stream was most strong, knowing right well, that if fortune be followed, as the first do fall out, the rest will commonly succeed. Therefore cutting of unnecessary delays, with all possible celerity he hastened towards London: to the end that possessing himself thereof as the chief place within the realm, both for strength and store, he might there make the seat of the war. In this journey no sign nor show of hostility appeared, but all the way as he passed, the men of chiefest quality and power adjoined themselves unto him, some upon heat of affection, some for fear, others upon hope of reward after victory; every one upon causes dislike, with like ardent desire contending, lest any should seem more forward than they: In every place also where he made stay, rich gifts and pleasant devices were presented unto him, with large supply both of force and provision: far above his need: and the common people which for their greatness take no care of public affairs, and are in least danger by reason of their baseness, with shouts and acclamations gave their applause; extolling the Duke, as the only man of courage, and saluting him Kiug; but spending many contumelious terms upon King Richard, and depraving him, as a simple and sluggish man, a dastard, a mecock, and one altogether unworthy to bear rule; showing themselves as much without reason in railing upon the one, as they were in flattering the other. Again, the Duke for his part was not negligent to uncover the head to bow the body, to stretch forth the hand to every mean person, and to use all other compliments of popular behaviour, wherewith the minds of the common multitude are much delighted and drawn; taking that to be courtesy, which the severer sort account abasement. When h● came to the city, he was there likewise very richly and royally entertained, with processions and pageants, and divers other triumphant devices & shows; the standings in all the streets, where he passed were taken up to behold him; and the unable multitude, who otherwise could not, yet by their good words, wishes, and wills, did testify unto him their loving affections: neither did there appear in any man at that time, any memory of faith and allegiance towards King Richard, but (as in seditions it always happeneth) as the most swayed all did go.  
On the contrary side, the Duke of York with the rest of his counsel, fell to mustering of men at S. Alban's, for the King: but as the people out of divers quarters were called thither, many of them protested, that they would do nothing to the harm and prejudice of the Duke of Lancaster, who they said was unjustly expelled, first from his country, and afterwards from his inheritance. Then W. Scroupe Earl of Wiltshire L. Treasurer, Sir I. Bush, Sir W. Bagot, and Sir Henry green, perceiving the stiff resolution of the people forsook the duke of York, and the L. chancellor, and fled towards Bristol; intending to pass the seas into Ireland to the king. These four were they upon whom the common fame went, that they had taken of the king his realm to farm: who were so odious unto the people, that their presence turned away the hearts of many subjects; yea it was thought, that more for displeasure against them, then against the king, the revolt was made. For being the only men of credit and authority with the King, under false colour of obedience they wholly governed both the realm & him; to many mischiefs corrupting his mind, & in many abusing his name, either against his will, or without his knowledge, insomuch as he was innocent of much harm which passed under his commandment: but the patience of the people could not endure that two or three should rule all; not by reason they were sufficient, but because they were in favour: and the King in that he permitted them whom he might have bridled, or was ignorant of that which he should have known, by tolerating and winking at their faults, made them his own, & opened thereby the way to his destruction. So often times it falleth out to be as dangerous to a prince to have hurtful and hateful officers in place and services of weight, as to be hurtful and hateful himself.  
The Duke of York either amazed at this sudden change, or fearing his adventure if he should proceed in resistance, gave over the cause, and preferred present security, before duty with danger; giving most men occasion to misdeem by his dealing, that he secretly favoured the duke's enterprise; likewise all the other counsellors of that side, either openly declared for the Duke or secretly wished him well: & abandoning all private direction & advice, adjoined themselves to the common course, presuming thereby of greater safety.  
Duke Henry in the mean time being at London, entered into deliberation with his friends, what way were best to be followed. At the last, having considered the forwardness of the people, the greatness of the peril whereinto they had already plunged, & the kings irreconcilable nature, whereof he made proof against the duke of Gloucester, & the earls of Arundel & of Warwick: they finally resolved to expel him from his dignity, & to constitute duke Henry king in his stead: and to that end open war was denounced against the King, and against all his partakers, as enemies to the quiet and prospenty of the realm; and pardon also promised to all those that would submit themselves to follow the present course, otherwise to look for no favour, but all extremities. None of the nobility durst openly oppose himself to these designs: some unwilling to play all their state at a cast; kept themselves at liberty, to be directed by success of further event: others consented coldly, and in terms of doubtful construction, with intent to interpret them afterwards, as occasion should change: but the most part did directly and resolutely enter into the cause, and made their fortunes common with the Duke, in danger of the attempt, but not in honour: among whom, the Duke standing up, used speech to this purpose.  
I am returned here as you see, at your procurement, and by your agreement have entered into arms for the common liberty: we have hitherto prosperously proceeded, but in what terms we now stand, I am altogether uncertain. A private man I am loath to be accounted, being designed to be King by you; and a Prince I cannot be esteemed, whilst another is in possession of the kingdom. Also your name is in suspense, whether to be termed rebels or subjects, until you have made manifest that your allegiance was bound rather to the state of the realm than the person of the Prince. Now you are the men who have both caused this doubtfulness and must clear the same; your parts still remaineth to be performed; your virtue & valour must add strength to the goodness of this action. We have already attempted so far, that all hope of pardon is extinct; so that if we should shrink back, & break of the enterprise, no mercy is to be expected but butchery and gibbets, and all extremities if we drive of & delay the accomplishment thereof, we shall lose the opportunity which now is offered, and open to our enemies occasion of advantage. For the people's blood is up now on our side, and nothing is wanting but our own diligence & care: let us not therefore trifle out the time of doing, in talking & deliberating: it is best striking whilst the iron is hot: let us set forth roundly, and possess ourselves with speed of all the parts of the realm: and so we shall be able either to keep out our concurrent, or else to entertain him little to his liking. So troops of men were sent into every quarter of the realm, to secure them for making strength on the part of King Richard: but the people in all places as men broken with many burdens, did easily entertain the first comer, and were not curious to fide with the stronger. The Duke pursued those of the King's privy counsel, which fled away from the duke of York; bearing himself with great cheer and courage, as confident in the cause, and secure of the event. When he came at Bristol he found the castle fortified against him; but in short time he forced it, and took therein Sir john Bushy, Sir Henry green, & W. Scroupe, L. Treasurer, a joyful pray to the common people: who (fearing that if execution should be deferred, petitions for pardon might happen to prevail, and so their cruelties and injuries should be canswered with the vain title and commendation of clemency) did violently require them unto death, no respite could be obtained, no defence admitted, no answer heard: yea their humble and submiss entreaty was interpreted to argue a weak & broken courage upon a guilty conscience, which more incensed the rage of the people, crying out that they were traitors, bloodsuckers, thieves, and what other heinous terms insulting fury did put into their mouths: at which clamorous and importunant instance, the day following they were beheaded. Sir William Bagot came not with them to Bristol, but turned to Chester: and the pursuit being made after the most, he alone escaped into Ireland. This execution, partly because it pleased the people, and partly because it excluded all hope of the King's pardon, caused them to cleave more closely to the Duke; which greatly increased, both his glory, & his hope; having officers of so long aid, & need of so little.  
In the mean time this news of the Duke's arrival and of other occurrences, part true, part false, and part enlarged by circumstance (as fame groweth in the going) was blown over to the King, being then entangled with other broils in Ireland, at the receipt whereof, he caused thoennes of the Duke of Gloucester, and of the Duke of Lancaster to be imprisoned in the strong Castle Trim, which is in Ireland, & for dispatch to return into England, left many matters unfinished, and most of his provision behind, hasting and shuffling up, as present necessity did enforce. So being both unskilful and unfortunate himself, & devoid of good direction; with more haste then good hap he took shipping, with the Duke of Aumerle, Exeter, & Surrie, the Bishops of London, Lincoln, and Caerliele, and many other men of quality: and crossing the seas, landed at Milford haven in Wales, in which conntrimen he always reposed his chiefest surety & trust, but then he saw contrary to his expectation, that as well there as in all other places, the people by plumps flocked to the Duke, & fled from him: yea they that came with him began for to waver, no man encouraging them to be constant, but many to revolt. This sudden change not looked for, not thought upon, disturbed all the King's devices, & made him irresolute what he should do: on the one side he saw his cause and quarrel to be right, and his conscience (he said) clear from any bad demerit: on the other side he saw the great strength of his enemies, and the whole power of the realm bend against him: & being more abashed of the one, then emboldened by the other, he stood perplexed in uncertain terms, either where to stay, or whether to stir, having neither skill nor resolution himself in cases of difficulty, and noxious to hurtful and unfaithful counsel. Some advised him to march forward, and pierce deeper into the land, before his own forces fell from him: affirming, that valour is seconded by fortune: that this courage of his, would confirm the constancy of his soldiers: and his presence put the people in remembrance of their faith: that in all places he should find some, who for favour, or for hire, or else for duty, would adhere unto him: whereby he should soon gather strength sufficient to join issue with his enemy in the f●de. Others persuaded him to retire again into Ireland, & then if succour failed him in England, to wage soldiers out of other countries. But the King being no man of action in military affairs, rejected both the counsels, as neither venturous enough with the one, nor wary enough with the other: and taking a middle course (which in cases of exremitie of all is the worst) he determined to make stay in Wales, and there to attend to what head this humour would rise.  
The Duke upon advertisement that the King was landed in Wales, removed with a strong army from Bristol towards Chester, using the first opportunity against him, and which in deed was the fittest, When L. Thomas Percy Earl of Worcester, and steward of the King's household, heard of the Duke's approach, he broke forth into show of that displeasure, which before he had conceived against the King, for proclaiming his brother; the Earl of Northumberlande traitor, and thereupon openly in the hall, in the presence of the King's servants, he broke his white rod, the ensign of his office, and forthwith departed to the Duke, willing every man to shift for himself in time: by which act he lost reputation, both with the haters & favourers of King Richard; being accounted of the one a corrupter, of the other a forsaker and betrayer of the King. After this example, almost all the rest, more fearful than faithful scattered themselves every one his way: and they who in the King's flourishing time, would have contended to be foremost, now in his declining estate equally draw back, and like swallows, forsook that house in the winter of fortunes boisterous blasts, where they did nothing but feed & foil in the summer of her sweet sunshine. And thus between faint soldiers and false friends, the King was abandoned and forsaken, and left almost unto himself: look on he might, but let it, he could not, as not of force to punish that, which he never forced to prevent: his only remedy was patience: (a cold comfort) his only revenge was complaint: (a weak weapon) between which two, his bitterness did in this manner break from him.  
And do these also (said he) forsake me? doth their faith & my fortune end together? well, if I had forsaken them in time I had not been forsaken of others, who once loved me better, and now are able to harm me more. But now I see the blindness of my judgement: I plainly see, that there is no friendship in flattery, nor treachery in plain truth: and I would I had as much time to reform this error, as I am like to have to repent it, but they would not suffer me to be wise when I might, and now they have made me wretched they run from me: they could be the causes, but they will not be companions of my miseries: such attendants are Crows to a carcase, which flock together, not to defend, but to devour it, and no sooner have they laid the bones bare, but straightways they are gone.  
Thus the King having lost both the fear and love of his subjects, disturbed and distracted in thoughts, without comfort council or courage, remained still in Wales, as a stranger at home, as an exile in his own kingdom, not daring to go to London, nor any man desirous to come to him, shifting still from place to place, and (as it falls out at men distressed & amazed) fearing all things, but most disliking the present. The Duke continually pursued him with a mighty army: but the King's company was too small to do any thing by force, & yet too great to remain in secret: neither were they in any sort assured unto him, but such as shame and reverence retained a while; bands of small countenance, with men fearful of danger, & careless of credit. At the length he came to the Castle of Conweye; and there being utterly destitute both of help and hope, he stood divided in mind what way to bend his course, all his followers wear more ready to impugn the opinions of other, than to give direction themselves, as seeing better what to shun then what to follow: and as it always chanceth in desperate causes, that way was commonly preferred, whereof the opportunity was already past. Some advised him, that it was then time to think, rather of saving his life, then recovering his estate. You see (said they) how greatly & how wholly your subjects are set against you: it is but in vain to look for a sudden change, or without a change to hope that your purposes may prevail, give place for a time to the currant of this fury; let it have the full sway; and when it is at the highest pitch, it will turn again; and than you shall have the tide as strong on your side, as it is now against you. This motion or rather commotion of the people, is violent and against nature: & therefore (as a stone forced upward) is most strong at the beginning, and the further it passeth the more it weakeneth, until at last it return to the natural course again. Therefore give a little space, for the bad to draw back, for the good to put forward: treasons prevail on the sudden: but good counsels gather forces by leisure. You have example in your noble progenitor King Henry the third, against whom the Lords set up Lewes the French kings son: conditions were concluded, and faith was made that he should be their King: but this purpose lasted not the pulling on: for before they had possessed him of the kingdom, they joined together in arms against him, & were as fierce to drive him out of the realm, as they had been found to draw him in. The like alteration may you likewise not only hope, but assuredly expect: for the minds of men are constant in nothing but inconstancy, and persever only in change, in dislike of things present they desire new, wherewith they rest not long contented, but are many times glutted even with the first sight. And indeed how can they long endure the reign of him, who attaining the kingdom only by their favour and might, shall hold the same in a manner, at their courtesy and will? for every unpleasant command, shall be deemed ingratitude: every suit rejected, shall charge him with unkindness: Yea if honour be not offered, they will be discontented: and upon any occasion of displeasure, think themselves as able to displace him, as they were to set him up: therefore you may for a time, return again into Ireland; or else pass the seas to your Father in law, the king of France: you may assure yourself of his assistance, to set upon your side, and recover your losses. Times have their turns, and fortune her course too and fro like the sea, & magnanimity is shown by enduring, & not relinquishing when she doth cross, only lose no point of courage, and keep your person at large: reserving yourself to that good hope, which never dieth whilst life endure.  
Others, who were enemies to all counsel, whereof themselves were not authors, persuaded the King, that the nobility and commons of the realm had attempted so far, that they would rather die, then desist; not so much for hatred to you, as for fear to themselves; having so deadly increased your displeasure against them. For it is a hard matter to forgive, and impossible to forget those injuries and indignities which they have offered. And to omit what some princes have done, what all will promise to do, they will soon find fresh and bleeding examples what you are like to do. The Duke of Gloucester and the Earls of Arundel and of Warwick did rise in arms against you, not to remove you from your crown: but to remove certain persons from your company; an action more displeasing then prejudicial unto you: at the last, a friendship was made, and charters of free pardon granted unto them: but what followed? was ever the breach perfectly made up? did displeasure die? or was it only dissembled? ah, it grieveth us to think, how the present want of their lives, hath fully revenged their deaths: for if they had lived, their countenance and authority would easily have stayed these stirs; and the manner of their deaths doth strike an obstinate persistence into all your enemies. As for refuge to foreign Princes, you shall surely receive of them entertainment and allowance, and yet may grow burdensome, and at last perhaps fail: but it is very hard to draw any Prince into so dangerous a quarrel: and more hard by that means to prevail: or if you should, it is to be feared that the victors will hold to themselves the benefit of their conquest, and not yield it over unto you. Few countries but have been under pretence of aid by foreigners subdued: and this was the only cause which first drew the Saxons into this land: who so assisted the Britaines against their enemies, that themselves could not be resisted from possessing they● kingdom. Yet we do not altogether condemn the help of strangers, in cases of extremity; but do account it a remedy, lest to be trusted, and last of all to be tried. What then if first you should procure a treaty, to see in what terms the people stand against you? It may be that upon some conditions they will submit themselves unto you, as heretofore they have done. Or if they will needs deforce you from your kingdom, yet if an honourable maintenance may be assured, what shall you lose thereby? What shall you lack? You have no child to be disinherited; the chiefest motive which maketh men so greedy to get, and so careful to keep. And as for yourself, you shall be removed from a steep & sli●● pery hill, to a smooth and pleasant plain; from tempest●●us seas, to a calm haven; from dangerous travail to secure rest: & if there be no solace without safety, no felicity without firmness; you shall find the private life not only more sweet, but more high and happy than your princely state. The tallest trees are weakest in the tops; in widest fields are greatest tempests; and envy always aimeth at loftiest marks: so that to be placed on high, is a false felicity, and a true misery; in show a rule, but indeed a subjection to all the subjects; having lest stay to stand, and most danger in the fall: and therefore if you come down safely, you are therein privileged above many other. But you shall lose (you will say) the credit & the countenance of a King: so you shall the cares; and so you shall the casualties. The crown & sceptre are things most weighty to wield: if a Prince be good, he is laden with labour; if evil, with infamy and reproach: i● either with perils: on every side he is beset with dangerous rocks, with deadly gulfs, & continually tossed with strong and sturdy tempests: so that to be freed from these fears, is to be esteemed an escape, and not a loss. This did the stoic Philosopher perecue, who seeing Dionysius ●it, merrily & freely conceited in the theatre, being a little before expelled his kingdom; greatly condemned the error of his people who had banished him to such liberty, & so preferred him by his punisliment. These are the dreams of philosophers (you will say) who usually contemn and deprave honour, & yet never lie from honourable men's tables. Let pass then Philosophers: go to vain and sottish men. Seleuchus being a King was wont to say, that if a man knew with what cares the diaden was clogged, he would not take it up, although it lay in the street. You will say peradventure, that like the boatman, he looked one way, and pulled another; or like the lapwing, he cried most when he was furthest from his nest, vainly dispraising that which he was loathest to lose▪ What say you then to Antiochus? whom when the Romans had despoiled of all Asia, he sent unto them great thanks, that they had rid him of infinite & importable cares, and set him at a moderate quiet: you will say that he made a virtue of his necessity. Well then, we are some what near your case: & they that cannot frame their wills to this wisdom, let them thank their enemies for enforcing them to it. But what say you to Di●clesian? who did voluntarily relinqusht, not a small and corner kingdom, but the greatest empire that the world did ever bear and found so sweet contentment in that exchange, that when he was importuned by the senate, to resume his estate, he utterly rejected their suit. But what need we travel in extern histories, for those examples, whereof we have so large supply in our own? the ancient Saxon Kings; Kingilsus, Ina, Ceolulphus, Eadbertus, Ethelredus, Kenredus, Offa, Sebbi, & Sigebertus did of their own accord lay down their diadems and sceptres, and betake themselves to solitary & religious lives. Now many Princes have held their estate with better fortune, but none did ever with greater honour leave it, than you should at this present: for others have abandoned their rule, either for desire of ease, or for avoidance of dangers, or upon some sluggish and superstitious devotion: but you for love to your country, shall forbear to seek your uttermost remedy, in setting up a most cruel war: wherein much English blood should be spilled, & the realm deprived of many worthy armies. Let others be repotted to forsake their kingdoms, when they had no longer pleasure to hold than: but your praise shall be for giving over, when it is greatest benefit unto the people: and the more hope you have to prevail, if you list to contend, the greater commendations will it be to yield as being rather voluntary then by constraint.  
The king commended the courage of the first, but this last counsel best agreed with his faint & feeble spirit, more yielding to fear then forward in hope; apt by the one to despair, unable by the other to hold out in any hard adventure, preferring always abject and base safety, before hazard with honour. Yet were many ready to reply, that all speech of conditions & yielding was both dishonourable & also dangerous: for even in hardest haps, said they, a noble nature will not presently relinquish; but first endeavour either by courage to repel the danger, or by wisdom to decline it: and why should you so little esteem your glory and fame, as without battle, or blow stricken▪ to bind your hands, & yield up your weapons, & put yourself upon miserable mercy: or if the honour of your noble house doth nothing move you, yet let danger & despair at least arm you to boldness: for neither the duke nor his friends will be so confident as to think themselves safe, so long as you shall remain (although in private state) alive. Indeed you may assure yourself that fair words will be given, & large offers made: but the performance shall consist in the courtesy of the conqueror: and nothing will be thought unlawful to him that hath power. King Edward the second was too heavy to be endured, even of his own son: and many have used violence to themselves, rather than they would fall into the power of their concurrents: and do not you expect more favour or greater fortune than other have found: let never that senselessness possess your mind, to imagine that a prince may live safely in private estate: for in this case there is no mean between Caesar & nothing, between the highest honour & the deadliest downfall. Therefore omit neither all nor any one means unassayed, to maintain your side by arms: no greater harm can happen at the hardest, then that which willingly you run into: you can but die if you be vanquished, & die you shall if you do yield: but by the one you shall end your life with glory, by the other, with shame & perpetual reproach. And although you do now esteem equally of both, yet when you shall see yourself penned in prison, in daily fear and expectance of a bloody messenger; you shall then perceive a difference in death, and find the weakness and fault of the counsel which you are about to follow. Many like speeches were with great vehemency often repeated, but the king's ears were stopped against all impression of manhood: and as he was unable to govern himself in his prosperous estate, so was he much less sufficient to wind out of these intricate troubles. Therefore perceiving himself so straightly beset, that he could hardly either escape away, or shift any longer, he desired speech with Tho. Arundel archbish. of Cant. & L. Hen. Percy earl of Northumb. of whom, the one he had banished, the other he had proclaimed traitor not long before. These two came unto him, & the king upon short conference, understanding what stiff stomachs they bore against him, was content not to demand that which he saw he could not obtain: & thereupon agreed that he would relinquish his estate, upon condition that an honourable living might be assigned him, & life promised to 8. such persons as he would name: the greatest number whom adversity did not alter. This was then both readily & faithfully promised by the Archbish. and the earl, & afterward solemnly ratified by the duke. The king ceased not to entreat submisly, & promise largely, and (as the nature is of men perplexed with fear) above his ability, & without measure, the earl encouraged him, and declared that the Duke before he had obtained any aid, secured by his oath the safety of the king's person. Then the king desired to talk with the duke, which was likewise promised; & so the archbish. & the earl departed, & the king removed to the castle of Flint, about 8. miles distant from Chester, to which place the Duke came to him. Here the coutenances & words of both were noted, by them that were present: the king seemed abject & base: the duke neither iusulting nor relenting, but comforting and promising friendly. The king repeated many benefits & kindnesses that he had showed: how in former time he had spared the dukes own life, & lately his sons: in regard where of he desired him, with such submisnes as was agreeable rather with his necessity then his honour: that he would show some pity, where he had received such pleasure: and permit him to enjoy his life, with such private maintenance as was convenient for his estate. The duke put h●m in good comfort, promising him assuredly, that he would provide for his safety: for which he suffered himself to be solemnly thanked, & thought it not much to have it accounted a great benefit. Indeed from that time the king was kept safe and sure enough, from hindering any of the duke's purposes, neither could it so easily have been discerned what had beve best for him to do, as that this which he did was the very worst: for the same night he was brought by the duke and his army to Chester, and from thence secretly conveyed to the Tower of London, there to be kept safe until the Parliament, which was appointed shortly after to be holden.  
Thus the King yielded himself, the 20. day of August, being the 47. day after the Duke's arrival: so that his journeys considered, from Houldernesse in the North to London: from thence to Bristol, & so into Wales, & back again to Chesten a man shall not easily travail over the land in shorter time than he conquered it. So frienly was fortune unto him, that he either found or made a ready passage through all hindrances and lets: & it seemed that he needed only, to open his arms, to meet and receive her, as she offered herself unto him. All the King's treasure & jewels, with his horses, and all his fardage came to the Duke's hands; and many that were in his company, were afterwards also despoiled by the soldiers of Northumberland and Wales.  
Some writers affirm, that the King did not yield himself, but was forelaid & taken, as he was secretly passing from Flint to Chester: but the authority of others who lived in that time, either in the plain view, or certain intelligence of these affairs, who for their place could not but know, and for their profession would not but deliver the very truth, hath drawn me to follow their report: which I find also received by some late writers, of as great depth in judgement and choice, as any (without exception) that this age hath brought forth.  
As the King was carried towards London, certain citizens conspired to lay themselves in a wait by the way, and suddenly to slay him; partly for private grievances, & partly for the cruelty that he had used towards the whole city: but the Mayor upon intelligence prevented the practice, and road forth in person with a convenient company, to conduct him safely unto the tower. Shortly after the duke came to London in solemn estate, and sent forth summons in the King's name, for a Parliament to be holden at Westminster, the last day of September in the same year: in the mean time he deliberated with his kindred and kind friends, concerning the order of his proceed. The duke of York (who a little before had been governor of the realm for the king & then was the chiefest director of the duke) thought it best that K. Richard should both voluntarily resign, & also solemnly be deposed, by consent of all the states of the realm: for resignation only would be imputed to fear, and deprivation to force; whereof the one is always pitied, and the other envied; but if both concur, and his desire be combined with his desert, being willing to forsake that which he is adjudged worthy to forego; then shall it appear, that he neither is expelled his kingdom by mere constraint, nor leaveth it without just cause This advice pleased the rest, and for executing thereof upon the day of S. Michaeil (which was the day before the parliament should begin) there assembled at the Tower. Thomas Arundel archbish. of Canturbury, Richard Scroupe archbish. of York, john bishop of Hereford, Henry duke of Lancaster, Henry earl of Northumberland, Radulph Earl of Westmoreland, L. Hugh Burnell, L. Thomas Berkley, L. Rose, L. Willoughby, L. Abergeiny, the Abbot of Westminster, the Prior of Canterbury, Willam Thirminges, and john Makeham, Chief justices, Thomas St●ke, and john Burbacke, Doctors of Law. T. Herpingham, and T. Grace knights, W. Ferby, and Dionise Lophane public Notaries, and divers others either not noted, or not remembered. When all were set in their places, King Richard was brought forth, appareled in his royal to be, the diadem on his head, and the sceptre in his hand; and was placed amongst them in a chair of estate. Never was prince so gorgeous, with less glory and greater grief: to whom it was not disgrace sufficient, to lose both the honour and ornaments of a king, but he must openly to his greater scorn, renounce the one, and deliver the other, After a little pause and expectation, the king arose from his seat, and spoke to the assembly these words, or the very like in effect.  
I assure myself that some at this present, and many hereafter, will account my case lamentable; either that I have deserved this dejection, if it be just; or if it be wrongful, that I could not avoid it. Indeed I do confess, that many times I have showed myself both less provident, and less painful for the benefit of the commonwealth, than I should, or might, or intended to do hereafter; and have in many actions, more respected the satisfying of my own particular humour, than either justice to some private persons, or the common good of all yet I did not at any time, either omit duty or commit grievance, upon natural dullness or set malice; but partly by abuse of corrupt counsellors, partly by error of my youthful judgement. And now the remembrance of these oversights, is so unpleasant to no man, as to myself: and the rather because I have no means left, either to recompense the injuries which I have done, or to testify to the world my reformed affections, which experience and staidness of years had already corrected, & would daily have framed to more perfection. But whether all the imputations wherewith I am charged be true, either in substance, or in such quality as they are laid; or whether being true, they be so heinous, as to enforce these extremities, or whether any other Prince, especially in the heat of youth, and in the space of two and twenty years (the time of my unfortunate reign) doth, not sometimes either for advantage, or upon displeasure, in as deep manner grieve some particular subject; I will not now examine: it helpeth not to use defence, neither booteth it to make complaint: there is left no place for the one, nor pity for the other: and therefore I refer it to the judgement of God, and your less distempered considerations.  
I accuse no man, I blame no fortune, I complain of nothing: I have no pleasure in such vain and needless comforts: and if I listed to have stood upon terms, I know I have great favourers abroad, and some friends (I hope) at home, who would have been ready, yea forward on my behalf, to set up a bloody and doubtful war: but I esteem not my dignity at so high a price, as the hazard of so great valour, the spilling of so much English blood, and the spoil and waste of so flourishing a Realm, as thereby might have been occasioned. Therefore that the Commonwealth may rather rise by my fall, than I stand by the ruin thereof. I willingly yield to your desires; and am here come to dispossess myself of all public authority and title, and to make it free and lawful for you to create for your King, Henric Duke of Lancaster my cousin germane, whom I know to be as worthy to take that place as I see you willing to give it to him.  
Then he read openly and distinctly the form of his session, wherein he did declare, that he had discharged his subjects, from their oaths of fealty and homage, and all other oaths whatsoever; and of his own will & free motion, did abdicate, the title, dignity, and authority of a King: and rendered up the possession of the Realm, with the use and title thereof, and all the rights thereunto appertaining. To this the King subscribed and was sworn: and then he delivered with his own hands the Crown, the Sceptre, and the rob to the Duke of Lancaster; wishing unto him more happiness therewith then had ever happened unto himself. Then he did constiture the Archbishop of York, and the Bishop of Hereford his procurators, to intimate and declare this his resignation to all the states of the realm, which should be assembled together in Parliament▪ Lastly, he gave all his riches and goods, to the sum of thee hundred thousand pounds in coin, besides his jewels & plate, for satisfaction of the injuries that he had done, desiring the Duke, & all the rest that were present severally by their names, not altogether to forget that he had been their King, nor yet too much to think upon the same; but to retain of him amoderate remembrance; and in recompense of the ease that he had done them by his voluntary yielding, to permit him to live safely, in a private and obscure life: with the sweetness whereof he was so possessed, that from theneforth he would prefer it, before any preferment in the world. All this was delivered and done by the King, with voice and countenance so agreeable to his present heaviness, that there was no man to unmindful of human instability, which was not in some measure moved thereat: insomuch as a few secret tears melted from the eyes of many that were present, in whose minds a confessed and obscure alteration already g●nne to begin. So pro●e and inclinable are mento pity misery, although they have procured it, and to envy prosperity, even that which they have raised.  
Upon Monday next following the Parliament began at Westminster; and the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Hereford (the King's Attorneys for this purpose) declared openly to the states there assembled, the King's voluntary resignation; and demanded whether they would assent and agree thereunto? the Barons of the realm by several and particular consent, the commons with one general voice, did expressly accept and admit the same. Then it was thought meet that certain defects and misdemeanures concerning matters of government, should be objected against the King: for which he should be adjudged as unworthy, as he seemed unwilling to retain the kingdom. To this purpose certain articles were engrossed, and openly read: in which was contained, how unprofitable the King had been to the realm; how unjust and grievous to the subjects; contrary both to his honour, and to his oath. The chiefest of which articles are these that follow.  
1 FIrst that King Richard did wastefully spend the treasure of the realm, and had given the possessions of the crown, to men unworthy, by reason whereof, new charges were daily laid on the necks of the poor commonalty.  
2 Item, where divers Lords as well spiritual as temporal, were appointed by the high court of Parliament, to commune and treat of matters concerning the state of the realm, and the commonwealth of the same, they being busied about the same commission, he with others of his affinity went about to impeach them of treason.  
3 Item, that by force and menace, he compelled the justices of the realm at Shrewsburie, to condescend to his opinion for the destruction of the said Lords: Insomuch as he began to raise war, against john Duke of Lancaster, Thomas Earl of Arundel, Richard Earl of Warwick, & other Lords contrary to his honour and promise.  
4 Item, that he caused his uncle the Duke of Gloucester, to be arrested without law, and sent him to Calais, and there without judgement murdered him: and although the Earl of Arundel upon his arraignment, pleaded his charter of pardon, he could not be heard, but was in most vile and shameful manner suddenly put to death.  
5 Item, he assembled certain Lancashire and Cheshire men, to the intent to make ware on the foresaid Lords, and suffered them to rob and spoil, without correction or reproof.  
6 Item, that although the king flatteringly and with great dissimulation, made proclamation throughout the realm, that the Lords aforenamed were not attached for any crime of treason, but only for extortions and oppressions done within the realm, yet he laid to them in the Parliament rebellion and manifest treason.  
7 Item, he hath compelled divers of the said Lords servants by menace, to make great fines & extreme payments, to their utter undoing: and notwithstanding his pardon to to them granted, he made them fine a new.  
8 Item, where divers were appointed to common of the estate of the realm; and the commonwealth of the same, the king caused all the rolls & records to be kept from them, contrary to his promise made in parliament, to his open dishonour.  
9 Item, ●e uncharitably commanded, that no man upon pain of loss of life and goods, should once entreat him for the return of Henry now duke of Lancaster.  
10 Item, where the realm is holden of God, and not of the Pope, or any other Prince, the said King Richard, after he had obtained divers acts of Parliament, for his own peculiar profit and pleasure, than he procured Bulls and extreme censures from Rome, to compel all men straightly to keep the same, contrary to the honour and ancient privileges of this realm.  
11 Item, although the Duke of Lancaster had done his devoir against Thomas Duke of Norfolk, in proof of his quarrel, yet the said king without reason or ground banished him the realm for ten years, contrary to all equity.  
12 Item, before the Duke's departure, he under his broad Scale, licensed him to make attorneys, to prosecute and defend his causes: the said king after his departure, would suffer none attorney to appear for him, but did with his at his pleasure.  
13 Item, the said king put out divers sheriffs lawfully elected, and put in their rooms divers others of his own minions, subverting the law, contrary to his oath and honour.  
14 Item, he borrowed great sums of money, and bound himself under his letters patents for the repayment of the same, and yet not one penny paid.  
15 Item, he taxed men at the will of him and his unhappy counsel, and the same treasure spent in folly, not paying poor men for their victual and viand.  
16 Item, he said that the laws of the realm were in his head, and sometimes in his breast: by reason of which fantastical opinion, he destroyed noble men, and impoverished the poor commons.  
17 Item, the parliament setting and enacting divers notable statutes, for the profit and advancement of the commonwealth, he by his privy friends and solicitors, caused to be enacted, that no act then enacted should be more prejudicial to him, than it was to his predecessors: thorough which proviso, he did often as he list, and not as the law ment.  
18 Item, for to serve his purpose, he would suffer the sheriffs of the shires, to remain above one year or two in their office.  
19 Item, at the summons of parliament, when the Knights and Burgesses should be elect, and the election had fully proceeded, he put out divers persons elected, and put in others in their places, to serve his will and appetite.  
20 Item, he had privy espials in every shire, to hear who had of him any communication, and if he communed of his lafcivious living, and outrageous doing, he straightways was apprehended, and made a grievous fine.  
21 Item, the spirituality alleged against him, that he at his going into Ireland, exacted many notable sums of money, beside Plate and jewels, without law ot custom, contrary to his oath taken at his coronation.  
22 Item, when divers Lords and justices were sworn to say the truth, of divers things to them committed in charge, both for the honour of the realm, and profit of the king, the said king so menaced them with sore threatenings, that no man would or durst say the right.  
23 Item, that without the assent of the Nobility, he carried the jewels and Place, and treasure, over the sea into Ireland; to the great impoverishing of the realm; and all the good records of the common wealth against his extortions, he caused privily to be embeaseled and carried away.  
24 Item, in all leagues and letters to be concluded and sent to the sea of Rome and other regions, his writing was so subtle and dark, that no other Prince durst once believe him, nor yet his own subjects.  
25 Item, he most tyrannously and unprincely said, that the lives and goods of all his subjects, were in the Prince's hands, and at his disposition.  
26 Item, that he contrary to the great Charter of England, caused divers lusty men to appeal divers old men, upon matters determinable at the common law, in the court Martial, because that in that court is no trial but only by battle: whereby the said aged persons fearing the sequel of the matter, submitted themselves to his mercy, whom he fined and ransomed unreasonably at his pleasure.  
27 Item, he craftily devised certain privy oaths, contrary to law, and caused divers of his subjects, first to be sworn to observe the same, and after bound them in bands for surer keeping the same, to the great undoing of many honest men.  
28 Item, where the Chancellor according to law, would in no wise grant a prohibition to a certain person, the king granted it unto the same person under his privy ●eale, with great threatenings if it should be disobeyed.  
29 Item, he banished the Bishop of Canterbury, without cause or judgement, and kept him in the Parliament Chamber with men of arms.  
30 Item, the bishop's goods he granted to his successor, upon condition that he should maintain all his statutes made at Shrewsburie Anno. 21. and the statutes made Anno 22. at Coventree.  
31 Item, upon the accusation of the Archbishop, the king craftily persuaded the said Bishop to make no answer, for he would be his warrant, and advised him not to come to the Parliament; and so without answer he was condemned and exiled, and his goods seized. Four other Articles were laid, which particularly did concern the said Archhishop, by whose doing chief the king was utterly undone.  
Then was demanded of the Nobility and commons of the realm, what they judged both of the truth and desert of these articles? who all agreed that the crimes were notorious, and that king Richard was worthy for the same to be deposed from his princely dignity. The noble men gave their voices, part corrupted by favour, part awed by fear: and the commons are commonly like a flock of Cranes, as one doth fly, all will follow. Hereupon Commissioners were appointed by both the houses; who pronounced sentence of deposition against king Richard, in manner and form as followeth.  
In the name of God Amen. We john Bishop of S. Asses, I. abbot of Glastenburie, Thom. Earl of Gloucester, Thom. Lord Berkley, Thom. Erpinghame, Thom. Graye Knights: Will. Thirninge justice, Commissioners for the matters hereafter specified, by the Lords spiritual and temporal of the realm of England, and the Commons of the said realm, representing all the states of the said Kingdom, specially deputed, sitting in seat of judgement, and considering the manifold perjuries, and cruelties, and many other crimes and offerces by Richard late King of the said realm, committed and done, contrary to good government in the realms and dominions aforesaid, during the time of his reign: also considering the articles which were openly ●●●bibited and red before the said states, which were so public, notorious, manifest, and famous, that they could nor can by no avoidance and shift be concealed: also considering the confession of the said King, acknowledging and reputing and truly upon his certain knowledge judging himself to have been and to be altogether insufficient and unskilful, for the rule and government of the realms and Dominions aforesaid and of any parts of them, and not unworthy to be deposed, for the notorious demerits, by the said Richard first acknowledged, and afterward by his will and mandate, before the said states published, and to them opened and declared in the English tongue. Upon these and other matters which were done concerning the same business, before the said States and us, by the diligent place, name and authority to us in this part committed, in abundance and for a cautel we pronounce, decree and declare, the said Richard, to have been and to be unprofitable and unable, and altogether insufficient and unworthy for the rule and government of the said realms, and of the dominions, rights and parts of them: and in regard and respect of the premises, worthily to be deposed from all kingly dignity and honour (if any such dignity and honour remaineth in him) and for the like cautel we do depose him by our sentence definitive in this writing: inhibiting from henceforth expressly, all and singular Lords, Archbishops, Bishops, Prelates, Dukes, Marquesses and Earls, Barons, Knights, Vassals, and all other persons whatsoever, of the said realms and dominions, and other places to the said realms and dominions appertaining, the subjects and liege people of the same, and every of them, that from henceforth none obey, or intent to obey the foresaid Richard, as king or Lord of the realms and dominions aforesaid.  
Then the same Commissioners were by the consent and suffrages of both houses, constituted procurators, jointly and severally for all the states of the realm; to resign and surrender unto King Richard, for them and all other homagers of the realm, all the homages and fealties which were both due and done unto him; as King and Sovereign, and also to declare unto him all the premises, concerning his deposition. Now Henry Duke of Lancaster, that he might be reputed, or reported at the least, not to attain the kingdom by intrusion and wrong, was counseled by his friends, to pretend some lawful challenge and claim thereunto: and being in power, it was no sooner advised what was to be done, but it was presently devised how to do it. So a title was drawn from Edmund, son to King Henry the third, whom they surnamed Crouch back: affirming that he was the eldest son of King Henry, and that for his deformity, he was put from his right of succession in the kingdom; which was for that cause given to his younger brother, King Edward the third: to this Edmund the Duke was next of blood by his mother Blanch, sole daughter and heir to Henry the first Duke of Lancaster, and son to the said Edmund. This cunning conceit was perceived of all men; but seeming not to perceive it, was a point of friendship in some, and of obedience in the rest: therefore the kingdom of England being then thought vacant, both by the resignation, and also by the deposition of King Richard: Duke Henry arose from his seat, and standing in the view of the Lords, crossed himself on the forehead, and on the breast, and spoke as followeth.  
In the name of God Amen: 〈◊〉 Henry of Lancaster, claim the realm of England, & ●●●●owne, with all the appurtenances, 〈…〉 of the blood royal, coming from that good Lord K. Henry the third, and through the right that God of this grace hath sent me, with the help of my kindred and of my friends, to recover the same: Which kingdom was in point to be undone, for default of good government and due justice.  
After these words, it was demanded in both houses, of the Nobility & of the commons which were assembled, whether they did consent that the Duke should reign? Who all with one voice, acknowledged and accepted him for their King: then the Archbishop of Canterbury took him by the hand, and placed him in the throne of estate, the Archbishop of York assisting him, and all the assembly testifying their own joy, and wishing his. Then the Archbishop made an oration, and took for his theme, this place of Scripture: See; this is the man whom I spoke to thee of, this same shall reign over my people. 1. Reg. 9 17. After all this he was proclaimed King of England, and of France, and Lord of Ireland: and the common people which is void of cares, not searching into sequels, but without difference of right or wrong inclinable to follow those that are mighty, with shouts and clamours gave their applause, not all upon judgement, or faithful meaning, but most only upon a received custom to flatter the Prince whatsoever he be. Yet lest the heat of this humour should allay by delay, it was forthwith proclaimed in the great Hall, that upon the 13. day of September next ensuing, the Coronation of the King should be celebrated at Westminster. These matters being thus dispatched, the King proclaimed, arose from his seat, and went to White Hall: where he spent the rest of the day in royal feasting, and all other complements of joy: notwithstanding there appeared in him no token of stateliness or pride, nor any change in so great a change.  
Upon Wednesday next following, the procurators, before mentioned, went to the presence of King Richard, being within the Tower; and declared unto him the admission of his resignation, and also the order and form of his deposition: and in the name of all the states of the realm, did surrender the homage and fealty which had been due unto him; so that no man from thence forth would bear to him faith and obedience, as to their King The King answered that he nothing regarded these titular circumstances, but contented himself with hope, that his cousin would be gracious Lord, and good friend unto him.  
So upon the 13. day of October, which was the day of the translation of Edward the Confessor, the Duke was with all accustomed solemnities, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, sacred, anointed and Crowned King at Westminster, by the name of king Henry the fourth: upon the very same day, wherein the year before, he had been banished the Realm. He was anointed with an oil, which a certain religious man gave unto Henry the first Duke of Lancaster (Grandfather to the King by the mother's side) when he served in the wars of King Edward the third, beyond the seas; together with this prophesy, that the Kings which should be anointed therewith, should be the champions of the Church. Duke Henry delivered this oil in a golden viol to Prince Edward, the eldest son of King Edward the third; who locked up the same in a barred chest within the Tower, with intent to be anointed therewith, when he should be crowned King: but the Prince dying before his Father, it remained there, either not remembered, or not regarded, until this present year; wherein the King, being upon his voyage into Ireland, and making diligent search for the jewels and monuments of his progenitors, found this Viol and prophesy: and understanding the secret, was desirous to be anointed again with that oil: but the Archbishop of Canterbury persuaded him, that both the fact was unlawful, and the precedent unseen, that a King should be anointed twice: whereupon he broke of that purpose, and took the Viol with him into Ireland: and when he yielded himself at Flint, the Archbishop of Canterbury demanded it of him again and did receive and reserve the same, until the coronation of King Henry; who was the first King of this realm, that was anointed therewith.  
I am not purposed to discourse, either of the authority, or of the certainty of these prophecies: but we may easily observe, that the greatest part of them, either altogether failed, or were fulfilled in another sense, then as they were commonly construed and taken. During the reign of King Henry the fourth, execution by fire was first put in practice within this Realm, for controversies in points of religion: in any other extraordinary matter, he did as much make the Church champion, as show himself a champion of the Church: but afterwards his successors were entituled Defenders of the faith: and how in action they verified the same, I refer to remembrance and report of later times.  
Now it had been considered, that the title which was derived to King Henry, from Edmund, whom they surnamed Crouchbacke, would be taken but for a blind and idle jest: for that it was notorious that the said Edmund, was neither elder son to King Henry the third (as it was plainly declared by an act of Parliament) nor yet a misshapen and deformed person: but a goodly Gentleman, and valiant commander in the field, and so favoured of the King his Father, that he gave him both the heritage's and honour's of S●●one Mountfort Earl of Leicester, of Ferrare Earl of Derby, and of john Barron of Monmuthe, who to their own ruin and destruction, had desplaied seditious ensigns against the King. And further to advance him to the marriage of Blanch Queen of Nauerne, he created him the first Earl of Lancaster, and gave unto him the county, Castle, and town of Lancaster, with the Forests of Wiresdale, Lounsdale, Newcastle beneath Linne, the Manner, Castle and Forest of Pickering, the Manner of Scaleby, the town of Gomecester, of Huntendone, etc. with many large privileges, and high titles of homour.  
Therefore King Henry upon the day of his Coronation, caused to be proclaimed, that he claimed the Kingdom of England, first by right of conquest: Secondly because King Richard had resigned his estate, and designed him for his successor: Lastly, because he was of the blood royal, and next heir male unto King Richard.  
Haeres malus indeed (quoth Edmund Mortimer Earl of March unto his secret friends) and so is the Pirate to the Merchant, when he despoileth him of all that he hath. This Edmund was son to Roger Mortimer who was not long before slain in Ireland, and had been openly declared heir apparent to the Crown, in case King Richard should die without issue; as descended by his Mother Philip, from Lionel Duke of Clarence, who was elder brother to john Duke of Lancaster, King Henry's Father: and therefore the said Edmund thought himself, and indeed was, nearer heir male to the succession of the Crown, than he that by colour of right claiming it, carried it by dint of force.  
But such was the condition of the time, that he supposed it was vain, for him to stir, where King Richard could not stand: Whereupon he dissembled, either that he saw his wrong, or that he regard it; and chose rather to suppress his title for a time, then by untimely opposing himself, to have it oppressed and depressed for ever: to this end he withdrew himself far from London, to his Lordship of Wigmore, in the West parts of the realm: and there settled himself to a private and close life: Idleness and vacancy from public affairs, he accounted a virtue, and a deep point of wisdom to meddle with nothing, whereof no man was chargeable to yield a reckoning. In revenues he was mean, in apparel moderate, in company and train not excessive, (yet in all these honourable and according to his degree) so that they which esteemed men by outward appearance only, could see in him no great show, either of wit and courage in his mind to be feared, or of wealth and honour in his estate to be envy. And thus whilst a greater enemy was feared, he passed unregarded; making himself safe by contempt, where nothing was so dangerous as a good opinion; and raking up those coals in obscurity for a time, which shortly after set all the realm on fire.  
King Henry presently after his coronation, created his eldest son Lord Henry, being then about xiii. years of age, Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall, and Earl of Chester, and soon after he created him also Duke of Aquitaine. Afterwards it was enacted, by consent of all the states of the realm, assembled together in the Parliament, that the inheritance of the Crowns and Realms of England and of France, and of all the dominions to them appertaining, should be united and remain in the person of King Henry, and in the heirs of his body lawfully begotten: and that Prince Henry his eldest son, should be his heir apparent, and successor in the premises: and if he should die without lawful issue, than they were entailed to his other sons successively in order, and to the heirs of their bodies lawfully begotten.  
The inheritance of the Kingdom being in this sort settled in King Henry and in his line, it was moved in the Parliament what should be done with King Richard. The Bishop of Caerliel, who was a man learned and wise, and one that always used both liberty and constancy in a good cause; in his secret judgement did never give allowance to these proceed: yet dissembled his dislike, until he might to some purpose declare it: therefore now being in place to be heard of all, and by order of the house) to be interrupred by none, he rose up and with a bold and present spirit, uttered his mind as followeth.  
This question (right Honourable Lords) concerneth a matter of great consequence and weight: the determining whereof will assuredly procure, either safe quiet, or dangerous disturbance, both to our particular consciences, and also to the common state. Therefore before you resolve upon it, I pray you call to your considerations these two things: First, whether King Richard be sufficiently deposed or no: Secondly, whether King Henry be with good judgement, or justice chosen in his place. For the first point we are first to examine, whether a king, being lawfully and fully instituted by any just title, may upon imputation, either of negligence, or of tyranny, be deposed by his subjects: Secondly, what King Richard hath omitted in the one, or committed in the other, for which he should deserve so heavy judgement. I will not speak what may be done in a popular state, or in a consular; in which although one beareth the name and honour of a Prince, yet he hath not supreme power of Majesty; but in the one, the people have the highest empire; in the other, the Nobility, and chief men of estate; in neither, the Prince. Of the first sort was the common wealth of the Lacedæmonians, who after the form of government which Lycurgus framed, oftentimes fined, oftentimes fettered their Kings, and sometimes condemned them to death: such were also in Caesar's time, the petit Kings of every City in France; who were many times arraigned upon life and death, and (as Ambiorix Prince of the Leodienses confessed) had no greater power over the people, than the people had over them. Of the second condition were the Roman Emperors at the first; 
Tranquil in caligula. Tacitus, in proaemio.  of whom some, namely Nero and Maximinus were openly condemned, others were suddenly surprised by judgement, and authority of the Senate: and such are now the Emperors of Germany, whom the other Princes by their Aristocratical power, do not only restrain, but sometimes also remove from their imperial state: such are also the Kings of Denmark, and Sweveland, who are many times by the nobility dejected, either into prison, or into exile: such likewise are the Dukes of Venice, and of some other free states in Italy: and the chiefest cause for which Lewes Earl of Flanders was lately expelled from his place, was for drawing to himself cognisance in matters of life and death, which high power never pertained to his dignity.  
In these and such like governments, the Prince hath not regal rights, but is himself subject to that power which is greater than his, whether it be in the Nobility or in the common people. But if the Sovereign Majesty be in the Prince, as it was in the three first Empires, and in the Kingdoms of judea and Israel; and is now in the kingdoms of England, France, Spain, Scotland, Muscovia, Turkey, Tartary, Persia, Aethiopia, and almost all the Kingdoms of Asia and Africa: although for his vices he be unprofitable to the subjects, yea hurtful, yea intolerable: yet can they lawfully neither harm his person, nor hazard his power, whether by judgement, or else by force: for neither one, nor all Magistrates have any authority over the Prince, from whom all authority is derived, and whose only presence doth silence, and suspend all inferior jurisdiction and power. As for force, what subject can attempt, or assist, or counsel, or violence against his Prince, and not incur the high and heinous crime of treason?  
It is a common saying, thought is free: free indeed from punishment of secular laws, except by word or deed it break forth into action: Yet the secret thoughts against the sacred majesty of a Prince, without attempt, without endeavour, have been adjudged worthy of death: and some who in auricular confession, have discovered their treacherous devices against the person of their Prince, have afterwards been executed for the same. All laws do exempt a mad man from punishment: because their actions are not governed by their will and purpose: and the will of man being set aside, all his doings are indifferent; neither can the body offend without a corrupt or erroneous mind: yet if a mad man draw his sword upon his King, it hath been adjudged to deserve death. And lest any man should surmise that Princes, for the maintenance of their own safety and sovereignty, are the only authors of these judgements; let us a little consider the patterns and precepts of holy Scripture. Nabuchadnezzer King of Assiria wasted all Palestine with fire and sword, oppugned Jerusalem a long time, and at the last expugned it: slew the King: burnt the Temple: took away the holy vessels and treasure: the rest he permitted to the cruelty and spoil of his unmerciful soldiers: who defiled all places with rape and slaughter, and ruinated to the ground that flourishing City: after the glut of this bloody butchery, the people which remained, he led Captive into Chaldaea: and there erected his golden Image, and commanded that they which refused to worship it, should be cast into a fiery furnace.  
What cruelty, what injustice, what impiety is comparable to this? and yet God calleth Nabuchadnezzer his servant, and promiseth him hire and wages for his service: 
jerem. 25. 9 Ezech. 29. 18.  and the Prophets jeremiah and Baruch did write unto the jews to pray for the life of him, and of Balthasar his Son, 
Ierm 29. 7. Baruch, 1. 11.  that their days might be upon earth as the days of Heaven: and Ezechtel with bitter terms abhorreth the disloyalty of Zedechia, because he revolted from Nabuchadnezzer, whose homager and tributary he was. What snall we say of Saul? did he not put all the Priests to execution, because one of them did relieve holy and harmless David: did he not violently persecute that his most faithful servant and dutiful Son in laws during which pursuit, he fell twice into the power of David; who did not only spare, but also protect the King, and reproved the preto●an soldiers for their negligent watch, and was touched in heart for cutting away the lap of his garment: and afterwards caused the messenger to be slain, who upon request and for pity, had lent his hand (as he said) to help forward the voluntary death of that sacred King. As for the contrary examples: as that of jehu who slew jehoram and Ahazia, 
So did D●mitian put to death Epaphroditus, Nero's libertine, because he helped Nero (although in love) to kill himself. So did Severus kill all the killers of Pertinax his prodecessour: and likewise Vitellius did put to death all the murderers of Gal●a. Theophilus' Emperor of Grecia caused all those to be slain, who had made his Father Emperor, by killing Leo Armenius: And Alexander the great put to cruel execution, those that had slain Darius, his mighty and mortal enemy.  Kings of Israel and juda: they were done by express oracle & revelation from God, and are no more set down for our imitation, than the robbing of the Egyptians, or any other particular and privileged commandment, but in the general precept, which all men must ordinarily follow, not only our actions, but our speeches also, & our very thoughts are strictly charged with duty and obedience unto Princes, whether they be good or evil, the law of God ordaineth: 
Deut. 17. 12. Psal, 105.  that he which doth presumptuously against the ruler of the people shall die: and the Prophet David forbiddeth, 
Exod. 22. 28. Act. 23. 5.  to touch the Lords anointed. Thou shalt not (saith the Lord) rail upon the judges, neither speak evil against the ruler of the people. 
Rom. 13. 1. 13. Tit. 3. 1.  And the Apostles do demand further that even our thoughts and souls be obedient to higher powers. 
1 Pet, 2. 13, 14. 17.  And lest any should imagine that they meant of good Princes only, 
1. Tim. 2, 2.  they speak generally of all; and further to take away all doubt, they make express mention of the evil. For the power and authority of wicked princes is the ordinance of god; and therefore Christ told Pilate, 
Rom. 1● 2. john. 19 〈◊〉.  that the power which he had was given him from above; and the Prophet Esay calleth Cyrus, being a profane and hea●●en Prince, 
Cap. ●5. 1.  the Lords anointed. For God stirreth up the spirit even of wicked Princes to do his will; 
2. Chro. 36. 22.  and (as jehoshaphat said to his rulers) they execute not the judgement of man, but of the Lord: 
2. Chron. 19 6.  in regard whereof David calleth them Gods; 
Psal. 28.  because they have their rule and authority immediately from God: which if they abuse, they are not to be adjudged by their subjects, for no power within their dominionis superior to theirs: but God reserveth them to the sorest trial: 
Sap. 6.  Horribly and suddenly (saith the Wiseman) will the Lord appear unto them, and a hard judgement shall they have.  
The law of God commandeth, that the Child should be put to death, for any contumely done unto the parents: but what if the Father be a robber? if a murderer? if for all excess of villainies, odious and execrable both to God and man? surely he deserveth the highest degree of punishment, and yet must not the Son lift up his hand against him, for no offence is so great as to be punished by parricide: but our country is dearer unto us than our parents: and the Prince is pater patriae, 
Quintil in declam.  the Father of our Country: and therefore more sacred and dear unto us, than our parents by nature, 
Cic. office lib. 1.  and must not be violated, how imperious, how impious soever he be: doth he command or demand, our persons or our purses, we must not shun for the one, nor shrink for the other: 
Nehem. 9 37.  for (as Nehemiah saith) Kings have dominion over the bodies and over the cattle of their subjects, at their pleasure. Doth he enjoin those actions which are contrary to the laws of God? we must neither wholly obey, nor violently resist, but with a constant courage submit ourselves to all manner of punishment, and show our subjection by enduring, and not performing: yea the Church hath declared it to be an heresy, 
Alphons. a cast in lib. de haeresi in verb. Tyrannus. Dominie.  to hold that a Prince may be slain or deposed by his subjects, for any disorder or default, either in life, or else in government, there will be faults so long as there are men: and as we endure with patience a barren year, 
Soto lib. 5. de just. et iur. q. 1. artic. 3.  if it happen and unseasonable weather, and such other defects of nature, so must we tolerate the imperfections of rulers, and quietly expect, either reformation, or else a change.  
But alas good king Richard, what such cruelty? what such impiety hath he ever committed? examine rightly those imputations which are laid against him, without any false circumstance of aggravation, and you shall find nothing objected, either of any truth, or of great moment. It may be that many errors and oversightes have escaped him, yet none so grievous to be termed tyranny; as proceeding rather from unexperienced ignorance, or corrupt counsel, then from any natural and wilful malice. Oh, how shall the world be pestered with tyrants, if subjects may rebel upon every pretence of tyranny? how many good Princes shall daily be suppressed by those, by whom they ought to be supported? if they levy a subsidy, or any other texation, it shall be claimed oppression: if they put any to death for traitorous attempts against their persons, it shall be exclaimed cruelty: if they do any thing against the lust and liking of the people, it shall be proclaimed tyranny.  
But let it be, that without authority in us, or desert in him, king Richard must be deposed: yet what right had the Duke of Lancaster to the Crown? or what reason have we without his right to give it to him? if he make title as heir unto king Richard, then must he yet stay until king Richard's death; for no man can succeed as heir to one that liveth. But it is well known to all men, who are not either wilfully blind or grossly ignorant, that there are some now alive, lineally descended from Lionel Duke of Clarence, whose offspring was by judgement of the high Court of Parliament holden the viii. year of the reign of King Richard, declared next successor to the Crown, in case King Richard should die without issue. Concerning the title from Edmund Crouchbacke, I will pass it over, seeing the authors thereof are become ashamed of so absurd abuse, both of their own knowledge, and our credulity, and therefore all the claim is now made, by right of conquest; by the session and grant of King Richard; and by the general consent of all the people. It is a bad wool that can take no colour: but what conquest can a subject pretend against his Sovereign, where the war is insurrection, and the victory high and heinous treason? as for the resignation which king Richard made, being a penned prisoner for the same cause; it is an act exacted by force: and therefore of no force and validity to bind him: and seeing that by the laws of this land, the king alone cannot alienate, the ancient jewels and ornaments pertaining to the Crown, surely he cannot give away the Crown itself, and therewithal the kingdom.  
Neither have we any custom, that the people at pleasure should elect their king: but they are always bound unto him, who by right of blood is next successor, much less can they confirm and make good that title, which is before by violence usurped: for nothing can then be freely done, when liberty is once restrained by fear. So did Scylla by terror of his legions, obtain the law of Velleia to be made, whereby he was created dictator for fourscore years: and by like impression of fear, Caesar caused the law Servia to be promulged, by which he was made perpetual dictator: but both these laws were afterwards adjudged void. As for the deposing of king. Edward the 2. is no more to be urged, than the poisoning of King john, or the murdering of any other good and lawful Prince: we must live according to laws, and not to examples: and yet the kingdom was not then taken from the lawful successor. But if we look back to times lately passed, we shall find that these titles were more strong in King Stephen, than they are in the Duke of Lancaster: for king Henry the first being at large liberty, neither restrained in body, nor constrained in mind, had appointed him to succeed: (as it was upon good credit, certainly affirmed.) The people assented to this designment; and thereupon without fear, and without force, he was anointed King, and obtained full possession of the realm. Yet Henry (Son of the Earl of anjou) having a nearer right by his mother to the Crown, (notwithstanding his father was a stranger & himself borne beyond the seas) raised such rough wars upon King Stephen, that there was no end of spoiling the goods and spilling the blood of the unhappy people, besides the ruins and deformities of many Cities and holds; until his lawful inheritance was to him assured. It terrifieth me to remember how many flourishing Empires, and Kingdoms have been by means of such contentions either torn in pieces with detestive division, or subdued to foreign Princes, under pretence of assistance and aid: and I need not repeat how sore this realm hath heretofore been shaken with these several mischiefs: and yet neither the examples of other countries nor the miseries of our own, are sufficient to make us to beware.  
O English men, worse bewitched than the foolish Galathians; our unstaid minds and restless resolutions, do nothing else but hunt after our own harms: no people have more hatred abroad and none less quiet at home: in other countries the sword of invasion hath been shaken against us: in our own land, the fire of insurrection hath been kindled amongst us: & what are these innovasions, but whetstones to sharpen the one, and bellows to blow up the other?  
Certainly I fear that the same will happen unto us which Aesop fableth to have been fallen unto the Frogs; who being desirous to have a King, a beam was given unto them: the first fall whereof did put them in some fear, but when they saw it lie still in the stream, they insulted thereon with great contempt, and desired a king of quicker courage: then was sent unto them a Stork, which stalking among them with stately steps, continually devoured them. The mildness of king Richard hath bred in us this scorn, interpreting it to be cowardice and dullness of nature: the next heir is likewise rejected: I will not say that with greater courage we shall find greater cruelty; but if either of these shall hereafter be able to set up their side, and bring the matter to trial by arms, I do assuredly say, that which part soever shall carry the fortune of the field, the people both ways must go to wrack. And thus have I declared my mind concerning this question, in more words than your wisdom, yet fewer than the weight of the cause doth require: and do boldly conclude, that we have neither power nor policy, either to depose king Richard, or to elect Duke Henry in his place; that king Richard remaineth still our Sovereign Prince, and therefore it is not lawful for us to give judgement upon him; that the Duke whom you call king, hath more offended against the king and the realm, than the king hath done, either against him or us; for being banished the realm for ten years by the king and his counsel (amongst whom his own Father was chief) and sworn not to return again without special license: he hath not only violated his oath, but with impious arms disturbed the quiet of the land, and dispossessed the King from his royal estate, and now demandeth judgement against his person, without offence proved, or defence heard: if this injury, and this perjury doth nothing move us, yet let both our private and common dangers somewhat withdraw us from these violent proceed.  
This speech was diversly taken, as men were diversly affected between fear, hope, and shame: yet the most part did make show for king Henry, and thereupon the Bishop was presently attached by the Earl Martial, and committed to prison in the Abbey of S. Alban's. Whose counsel and conjecture then contemned, was afterwards better thought upon; partly in the life time of king Henry, during whose reign, almost no year passed without great slaughters and executions: but more especially in the times succeeding, when within the space of xxxvi. years, twelve set battles upon this quarrel were fought within the realm by English men only: and more than four score Princes of the royal blood slain one by another.  
Then it was concluded, that king Richard should be kept in a large prison, with all manner of Princely maintenance: and if any persons should conspire, to rear war for his deliverance, that he should be the first man who should suffer death for that attempt. Then the Acts of the Parliament holden at Westminster, in the xi. year of King Richard, were revived; and the Parliament holden the xxi. year of king Richard was wholly repealed: and they who were attainted by that Parliament, were restored again to their fame and honour, and to their lands without suing livery, and to such goods whereof the King was not answered; except the rents and issues which had been received out of their lands in the mean time. Hereupon Richard Earl of Warwick was delivered out of prison, and the Earl of Arundelles son recovered his inheritance: many others also that were banished or imprisoned by King Richard, were then fully restored again, to their Country, liberty, and estate.  
It was further provided, that none of those which came in aid of King Henry against King Richard, should for that cause be impeached or troubled. Also the King gave to the Earl of Westmoreland the County of Richmond; and to the Earl of Northumberland he gave the isle of Man, to be holden of him by the service of bearing the sword, wherewith he entered into England. divers other of his followers he advanced to offices of highest place and charge, some upon judgement and for desert, but most part to win favour, and perhaps projecting a plot for friends, if times should change: for in many actions men take more care to prevent revenge, then to lead an innocent and harmless life.  
It was further agreed, that the procurers of the death and murder of Thomas late Duke of Gloucester, should be searched out and severely punished. And judgement was given against the appellants of the Earl of Warwick and the Earl of Arundel, that the Dukes of Aumerle, Sussex, and Exeter, the marquess of Dorset, and the Earl of Gloucester who were present, should lose their degree of honour for them and their heirs: that they should likewise lose all the Castles, Manors, Lordships, etc. then in their hands which sometimes appertained to those whom they did appeal, and that all the letters patents and charters which they had concerning the same, should be surrendered into the Chancery, and there be canceled: that for all other their Castles, Manors, Lordships, possessions, and liberties, they should be at the grace and mercy of the King: that they should give no liveries, nor keep any retinue of men, but only such officers as were merely necessary for their degree: that if any of them should adhere to Richard the deposed King, in giving him aid or encouragement, against the judgement of his deposition, than he should incur the pains and forfeitures of high treason. And because it was a clamorous complaint among the common people, that many officers had committed grievous extoruons and wrongs, either by the open maintenance or secret con●itiuence of these Lords: First those officers were removed, and that corruption taken away with integrity, which bribery h●d wrought, in placing (for money) men of b●d quality, in high degrees of office and service: then proclamations were made, that if any man had been oppressed by these Lords, or by any officers under them, he should prove his complaint, and receive recompense. It was made a question whether it was not meet that these noble men should be put to death: the importunity of the people, and the persuasion of many great men drew that way, but policy was against it, and especially the opinion of clemency, which seemed needful to the settling of a new risen state.  
In this parliament also the Lord Fitzwater appealed the said Duke of Aumerle, son to the Duke of York, upon points of high treason: likewise the Lord Morley appealed john Montacute Earl of Salisbury, and more than twenty other appeilants waged battle; but the king purposing to lay the foundation of his realm by favour and not by force, gave pardon and restitution alike to all, upon sureties and band for their allegiance: and in a sweet and moderate oration, he admonished, and as it were entreated the one part, that old griefs and grudges should not be renewed, but buried together with the memory of former times; wherein men were forced to do many things against their minds: the other part he desired to be more regardful of their actions afterward, and for the time past, rather to forget that ever they were in fault, then to remember that they were pardoned. No punishment was laid upon any, save only the Earl of Salisbury and the Lord Morley, who had been in especial grace and favour with King Richard: these two were committed to prison, but at the suit of their friends they were soon released: the rest the King received freely to favour, but most especially the Duke of Aumerle, and the Duke of Excester, Lord Governor of Calais. The Duke of Aumerle was cousin german to both the kings: john Holland Duke of Exce●●●, was half brother to King Richard, and brother in law to King Henry; whose sister, the Lady Elizabeth he had taken to wise. The greatest matter that was enforced against them, was their loyalty unto King Richard: (a grievous crime among rebels) because they did not only stomach and storm at his dejection, but stir also more than others, and assay to raise forces on his behalf. The Dukes boldly confessed the accusation, that they were indeed unfortunately faithful to King Richard: but as those who once are false, do seldom afterwards prove sound firm, so they that have showed themselves true to one prince may the better be trusted by any other. The King did rather admit this as a defence, then remit it as a fault: affirming, that such examples were not to be misliked of Princes: so he entered with them into great terms of friendship, and put them in place nearest his person, endeavouring by courtesy and liberality, to make them fast and faithful unto him: this fact was diversly interpreted, according to men's several dispositions, some admiring the king's moderation, others disliking and disallowing his confidence; and indeed although these means have to this purpose prevailed with some, yet the common course may move us commonly to conjecture, that there is little assurance in reconciled enemies: whose affections (for the most part) are like unto Glass, which being once cracked, can never be made otherwise then crazed and unsound.  
Furthermore, to qualify all prejudice and hard opinion which other princes might chance to conceive, King Henry dispatched Ambassadors to divers countries near unto him, to make it known by what title, and by what favour and desire of all the people he attained the kingdom. To the court of Rome he sent john 〈◊〉 Bishop of Hereford, Sir john Cheyney Knight, and john Cheyney Esquire: into France he sent Waker Shirlowe Bishop of Durham, and Lord Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester: into Spain he sent john Treuor Bishop of S. Assaph●●, and 〈◊〉 William Parr●: and into Almain he sent the Bishop of Bangor, and certain other. Most of these Princes (as in a matter which little concerned either their honour or their harm) seemed either not to regard what was done, or easily to be persuaded that all was done well. But Charles King of France, was so distempered at this dishonourable dealing with his son in law King Richard, that by violence of his passion, he fell into his old pangs of frenzy: and at the last by help of Physic returning to the sobriety of his senses, he purposed to make sharp war upon that disloyal people (as he termed them) for this injury against their lawful and harmless Prince. Many noble men of France showed themselves very forward to enter into the service, but especially the Earl of Saint Paul, who had married King Richard's half Sister. So letters of defiance were sent into England, and great preparation was made for the war.  
Likewise the news of these novelties much abashed the Aquitanes (who were at that time under the English subjection) and plunged their thoughts in great perplexities. Some were grieved at the infamous blemish of the English nation, who had distained their honour with the spot of such disloyal dealing: others feared the spoil of their goods, and oppression of their liberties by the Frenchmen; against whose violence they suspected that the realm of England, being distracted into civil factions, either would not attend, or should not be able to bear them out: but the Citizens of Bordeaux were chiefly anguished in respect of King Richard, partly fretting at his injury, and partly lamenting his infortunity; because he was borne and brought up within their City. And thus in the violence, some of they● anger, some of their grief, and some of their fear, in this sort they did generally complain.  
O good God (said they) where is the world become? saints are turned to Serpents, and Doves into devils. The English nation which hath been accounted fierce only against their ●oes, and always faithful to their friends; are now become both fierce and faith less against their lawful and loving Prince, and have most barbarously betrayed him. Who would ever have thought that Christians, that civil people, that any men, would 〈◊〉 have violated all religion▪ all laws, and all honest and orderly demeanour? And although the heavens blush at the view▪ and the ear●● sweat as the burden of 〈…〉, and all man proclaim and exclaim open shame and confusion against them▪ yet they neither feel the horror, nor shrink at the shame, nor fear the revenge▪ but stand upon terms, some of defence for the lawfulness of their dealing, and some of excuse for the necessity. Well let them be able to blind 〈◊〉 world, and to resist 〈…〉; yet shall they never be able to escape 〈…〉 desire to be powered upon them. Alas good King Richard, thy nature was too gentle, and they government too mild for so stiff and stubborn a people: what King will ever repose any trust in such 〈…〉 them with laws as thieves are with 〈◊〉? What 〈◊〉 he 〈◊〉 can recover their credit? What time will be sufficient to blot out this blemish? What other action could they have done, more joyful to their enemies, more woeful to their friends, and more shameful to themselves? Oh corruption of times? Oh conditions of men.  
The Frenchmen were nothing discontented at this discontentment of the Aquitanes; supposing that opportunity was then offered, to get into their possession the Duchy of Guian▪ if either power or policy were thereto applied Hereupon Law▪ Duke of Burbea came down to Angiers, who from thence sent many messengers to the chief cities of Guian, and by fair speeches and large promises, solicited the people to change allegiance: on the contrary side, sir Robert Knowles Lieutenant of Guian, endeavoured with all diligence to repress the 〈◊〉, to stay the doubtful, to confirm the good▪ and to 〈◊〉 all in order and obedience: but he profited very little, whether by the weakness of his own arm, or stiff neck of the people it is not certainly assured. Neither did the Duke of Burbone much prevail▪ when it was considered 〈…〉 the yoke of France was above the English subjection: for all men were well acquainted with what tributes and 〈◊〉 the Frenchmen were charged, having in every country Lieutenants and Treasurours assigned, the one to draw the blood, the other the substance of the slavish subjects, whose cruelty and covetousness laid hold without exception upon all, the 〈…〉 other undoing by law. Thus stood the 〈…〉 which the wind driveth one way, and the 〈◊〉 another: desirous they were to displease the English, but 〈◊〉 to endanger and undo themselves.  
Upon advertisement whereof, King 〈◊〉 sent into Guian the Lord Thomas Percy Earl of Worcester, whom he knew to be faithful unto him, and expert in matters of charge, having in his company a strong and serviceable band of Soldiers: who not by unseasonable exprobating their fault, but by reason convincing it, 〈◊〉 with his wisdom and credit so persuaded, and partly with his authority and forces so terrified the wavering people, that he wan them to his opinion, and confirmed them in their allegiance; the graver sort with respect of duty and faith, the rest with regard and 〈◊〉 of danger. Them he received oaths of obedience unto King 〈◊〉, and planted 〈◊〉 strong garrison in places of chief import, without molestation if they remained quiet, and yet of force to repress them if they should rebel. This done, he returned again into England, where he showed an excellent example of moderation, in seeming rather to have found then to have made the Aquitanes dutiful subjects.  
No sooner could this stir be stinted, but another more dangerous and desperate did forthwith arise: for diverse noble men who either had dissembled, or did repent the furtherance that they used to the advancement of King Henry did conspire together to compass his destruction: the histories of that time do vary, concerning the causes of this conspiracy; whether it were for favour to King Richard, as the nature of man is inclinable to behold sudden misfortune with a pitiful eye; or for envy to King Henry, as commonly we can 〈◊〉 excessive forr●●e, no where so little as in those that have been in equal degree with our 〈◊〉 or whether upon dishonours received in the late 〈◊〉, or upon 〈◊〉 to see others go before them in the Prince's favour many sought to revenge their unjust anger with lewd disloyalty: likewise it is not assuredly known by what means the workers thereof were drawn together, and the secret devices of some 〈◊〉 to the rest: whether one of them did persuade another to enter into the action, or whether all were induced by the same unconstant disposition and light account of faith: which being once falsed to King Richard, was afterwards upon every light discontentment, little respected to any: but concerning these matters, the most current report is this.  
There was at that time an Abbot of Westminster, one that applied his studies, not as the most part, to cloak idleness and sloth under the glorious title of religion, but to enable himself for counsel and direction in public affairs: who for the general opinion of his wisdom and integrity, was in good favour and credit with King Richard, and did accompany him in his last voyage into Ireland.  
This Abbot called to his remembrance, a speech which he heard once fall from King Henry, when he was but Earl of Derbie, and not yet come to any great staidness, either in years or judgement; that Princes had too little, and religious men too much.  
At that time the riches of the church were grown so great, that many began to look upon them with an envious eye; but least covetousness should show itself with open face, policy was pretended, and the excess thought dangerous, both to the King and also to the 〈◊〉; as very like to cause want to the one, and 〈◊〉 in the other.  
Hereupon many bills had been put up in the parliaments holden in the reign of King Richard, that 〈◊〉 might be made to repress the increase of religious possessions: namely, that inquisition and redress might be had against such religious persons, as under the licence to purchase ten pounds yearly, did purchase four score, or a hundred pounds: and also against such religious persons as caused their villains, to take to their wives free women inheritable, whereby the lands came to those religious men's hands: yea it was moved in open Parliament, that the king should seize into his hands, all the temporal livings of religious houses, as being rather a burden then a benefit unto religion.  
Upon these and the like petitions, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Archbishop of York, for themselves and the Clergy of their Provinces; were oftentimes compelled to make their solemn protestations in open Parliament, that if any thing were attempted in restraint of the liberty of the Church, they would in no wise assent, but utterly withstand the same: the which their protestations they required to be enrouled.  
So partly upon love to King Richard, and partly upon fear, lest King Henry would be as ready to invade, as he was to enueigh against the richesse of religious houses: this Abbot was the first man that blew the coals, and put fuel to the fire of this confederacy. And first he observed a far off, than he searched more nearly and narrowly (and yet warily too) how the minds of certain Noble men were affected, or rather infected against King Henry; tempering his speeches in such sort, that if matters sorted to his mind, he might take them upon him, if his corpses were crossed, he might clearly disclaim them: at last he invited to his house upon a day, in Michaelmas term, those whom he had sounded to be most sound for his purpose: the chief of whom were such as in the Parliament before had in some sort been touched in reputation, although by pardon and reconcilement the harm did seem to be closed up: their names were john Holland Duke of Exeter, of whom: mention hath been made before, Thomas Holland his brother's Son, Duke of Surrey, Edward Duke of Aumerle, john Montacute Earl of Salisbury, Hugh Spencer Earl of Gloucester, john Bishop of Caerliele, Sir Thomas Biunt, and Magdalen one of King Richard's Chapel, who in all points both of feature and favour, so nearly resembled King Richard, that the Lords dissembled afterwards that he was King Richard indeed.  
These and some others were highly feasted by the Abbot: and after dinner they withdrew themselves, into a secret Chamber to counsel: here the Duke of Exeter, who was most hotly bend either to restore, or to revenge the cause of his deposed brother, declared unto the rest, the allegiance that they had sworn unto King Richard: the honours and 〈◊〉 whereunto they were by him advanced: that therefore they were bound both in conscience by the one, and in kindness by the other, to take his part against all men: that king Henry contrary to both, had despoiled him of his royal dignity, and unjustly possessed himself thereof, whilst they stood looking on, and showed neither the obedience of subjects, nor love of friends, as though they were men who knew to do any thing, better than to defend, and if need were to die for their lawful Prince and loving patron: that king Henry by violent invading, or fraudulent insinuating himelse, into the kingdom of his natural and liege Prince, was but a tyrant, and usurper, and such a one as it was lawful for any man, by any means to throw down, without respect whether he were a good man or evil, for it is lawful for no man, upon pretence and show of goodness to draw sovereignty unto himself: that the laws and examples of best governed common wealths, did not only permit this action but highly honoured it with statues and garlands, and titles of nobility, and also rewarded it with all the wealth of the suppressed tyrant: that this enterprise would be very profitable, and almost necessary to the common wealth, by extinguishing those wars which the Scots menaced, the Frenchmen prepared, and the Welshmen had already begun upon this occasion and quarrel: that he did not distrust but it might be accomplished by open arms, but he thought it more sure for them, and for the common wealth more safe, to put first in proof some secret policy: and to that purpose he devised, that a solemn Iustes should be challenged, to be kept at Oxford, in Christmas holidays, between him and twenty on his part, and the Earl of Salisbury and twenty on his part, to which king Henry should be invited: and when he was most intentive in regarding their military disport, he should suddenly be surprised by men which without suspicion might at that time be assembled, both for number and preparation sufficient for the exploit, and thereby King Richard presently be restored, both to his liberty, and to his state.  
This devise was no sooner uttered, then allowed and applauded of the rest of the confederates: and so resolving upon the enterprise, they took an oath upon the Evangelists, the one to be true and secret to the other, even to the hour and point of death: the Lords also made an Indenture sextipartite wherein they bond themselves, to do their best assay, for the death of the one king and deliverance of the other: this they sealed and subscribed, and delivered to every Lord a counterpane of the same: and further they concluded what forces should be gathered, by whom, how they should be ordered and placed, and to whose trust the execution should be committed.  
When all things were thus contrived, and their hungry ambitious minds were well filled with the vain winds of hope and desire: the Duke of Exeter came to the king at Windsor, and desired him for the love that he bore to the noble fears of Chivalry, that he would vouchsafe to honour with his presence the martial exercise, that was appointed between him and the Earl of Salisbury, and to be the judge of their performances if any controversy should arise.  
The king supposing that to be intended indeed, which was pretended in show, easily yielded to his request. The Duke supposing his purpose now half performed, departed to his house, and so did the other confederates: where they busily bestirred themselves, in raising men, and preparing horse and armour for the accomplishment of this act.  
When the Duchess of Exeter, king Henry's Sister, perceived the drift of the devise, and saw that the Duke was upon his journey: alas good Lady how was she distracted in mind, with a sharp conflict of her conceits? one way she was moved with nature towards her brother; another way she was more strongly stirred, with love towards her Lord and husband; and both ways she was divided in duty. And what (said she) is this love then against nature? or about it? shall I be undutiful to my Prince? or is no duty comparable to the duty of a wife? heigh ho: in what perplexities (wretched woman) am I plunged, to see my two dearest friends in this case of extremity, that (it is doubtful which but) certainly one must be ruined by the other. Herewith such a shower of tears streamed down her cheeks, that it drowned her speech, and stopped the passage of further complaint: which when the Duke espied, he stepped unto her, and seizing softly upon her hand, used these words. What Bess? is it kindness to me or kindred to your brother that thus hath set your eyes on float? Content yourself woman, for whatsoever the event shall be, it cannot be evil to you, nor worse to me then now it is. For if my purpose prevail, and my brother be restored again to his crown, both of us shall be sure never to decline: if it be prevented, and your brother continue still in his estate, no harm shall be done unto you, and I shall be then sure of that destruction which I do now continually dread: the fear whereof in expecting, is a greater torment than the pain in suffering. When he had thus said, he kissed her, and so leaving her to the torture of a thousand thorny thoughts, he took his journey towards Oxford, with a great company both of Archers and Horsemen. There he sound all the rest of his complices, well armed and banded, except only the Duke of Aumerle.  
The King also hearing that both the Challengers and defendants were in a readiness, determined the day following to ride to Oxford, according to his promise and appointment.  
Now the confederates much marveled at the stay of the Duke of Aumerle, some only blamed his slackness, others began to suspect it, every man conjectured as he was diversly affected between confidence and fear: and in this confusion of opinions, they sent unto him in post, to know the certain truth. Before the messenger came to the Duke, he was departed from Westminster towards Oxford, not the direct way, but went first to see his Father the Duke of York, and carried with him his counterpane of the Indenture of confederacy. As they sat at dinner, the Father espied it in his bosom, and demanded what it was? the Son humbly craved pardon, and said that it nothing touched him, by S. George (quoth the Father) but I will see it: and so whether upon a precedent jealousy, or some present cause of suspicion, he took it away from him by force. When he perceived the contents, he suddenly arose from the table, & with great fierceness both of countenance and speech, uttered to his Son these words.  
I see traitor, that idleness hath made thee so wanton and mutinous that thou playest with thy faith, as children do with sticks: thou hast been once already faithless to King Richard, & now again art false to King Henry, so that the like fish Sepia, thou troublest all the waters wherein thou livest. Thou knowest that in open Parliament I became surety and pledge for thy allegiance, both in body and goods: and can neither thy duty, nor my desert restrain thee, from seeking my destruction? in faith, but I will rather help forward thine. With that he commanded his Horses to be made ready, and presently took his journey towards Windsor, where the King then lay.  
The Duke of Aumerle had no time either to consult with his friends, or to consider with himself what was best to be done: but taking advise upon the sudden, he mounted likewise on horseback, and posted towards Windsor another way. It was no need to force him forward, his youthful blood, and his sudden danger were in steed of two wings, to keep his horse in Pegasus pace: so that he came to Windsor, & was alighted at the Castle, before his stiff aged Father could come near. Then he entered the gates, and caused them to be surely locked, and took the Keys into his own hands, pretending some secret cause for which he would deliver them unto the King. When he came in presence, he kneeled down and humbly craved of the King mercy and forgiveness. The king demanded for what offence? Then with a confused voice, and sad countenance, casting down his eyes as altogether abashed, partly with fear of his danger, and partly with shame of his discredit; he declared unto the King all the manner of the conspiracy. The King seemed neither rashly to believe, nor negligently to distrust the Duke's report; neither stood it with policy to entertain the discovery with any hard and violent usage: therefore with gracious speeches he comforted the Duke, and if this be true, said he, we pardon you: if it be feigned, at your extreme peril be it.  
By this time the Duke of York was rapping at the Castle gates, and being admitted to the King's presence, he delivered to him the endenture of confederacy, which he had taken from his son. When the King had red it, and was thereby persuaded of the truth of the matter, he was not a little disquieted in mind, complaining of the unconstant disposition of those men, whom neither cruelty (he said) could make firm to King Richard, nor clemency to him; but upon dislike of every present government, they were desirous of any change. So being possessed with deeper thoughts then to gaze upon games, he laid his journey aside, and determined to attend at Windsor, what course his enemies would take, and which way they would set forward: knowing right well that in civil tumults, and advised patience, and opportunity well taken, are the only weapons of advantage; and that it is a special point of wisdom, to make benefit of the enemies folly. In the mean time he directed his letters to the Earl of Northumberland his high Constable, and to the Earl of Cumberland his high Marshal, and to others his most assured friends, concerning these sudden and unexpected accidents.  
The confederates all this time hearing nothing of the Duke of Aumerle, and seeing no preparation for the Kings coming, were out of doubt that their treason was betrayed. And now considering that once before they had been pardoned, the guilt of this their rebellion, excluded them from all hope of further mercy: whereupon they became desperate, and so resolved to prosecute that by open arms, wherein their privy practices had ●ailed. And first they appareled Magdalen (a man very like to King Richard both in stature and countenance, and of years not disagreeable) in princely attire; and gave forth that he was King Richard, and that either by favour or negligence of his keepers, he was escaped out of prison, and desired the faith and aid of his loving subjects. Then they determined to dispatch messengers to Charles King of France, to desire his help and assistance on the behalf of his son in law, if need should require.  
The common people, which commonly are soon changeable, and on the sudden as prone to pity as they were before excessively cruel, most earnestly wished the enlargement of King Richard, and earnestly wishing, did easily believe it: in which imaginary conceit, being otherwise men of no deep search, the presence of Magdalene most strongly confirmed them: and so either upon ignorance of truth, or delight in trouble, they joined themselves in great troops to the Lords: desiring nothing more than to be the means whereby King Richard should be restored, as in a manner resuming their first affections and humours towards him. Then the Lords of this association with great force, but with greater fame, as the manner is of matters unknown, advanced forward in battle array towards Windsor, against King Henry, as against an enemy of the common state; having in their company above forty thousand armed men. The King upon intelligence of their approach, secretly with a few horse, the next Sunday night after New Year's day, departed from Windsor to the Tower of London, and the same night before it was day, the confederates came to the Castle of Windsor: where missing their expected pray, they stood doubtful and divided in opinions, which way to bend their course. Some advised them with all speed to follow the King to London, and not to leave him any leave and liberty, to unite an army against them: that Winter was no let but in idle and peaceable times: that in civil dissensions nothing is more safe than speed, and greater advantage always groweth by dispatching then deferring: that whilst some were in fear, some in doubt, and some ignorant, the City, yea the realm might easily be possessed: and that many armies whose fury at the first rush could not be resisted, by delays did wear out, and waste to nothing. Others who would seem to be considerate and wise, but in very deed were no better than dastards, persuaded rather to set King Richard first at liberty; for if their counterfeiting should be discovered before they possessed themselves of his person, the people undoubtedly would fall from them to the certain confusion of them all. hereupon they gave over the pursuit, and retired to Colebrook, and there delayed out the time of doing, in deliberating, being neither courogiouslye quick, nor considerately stayed, but faintly and fearfully shrincking back: and when they once began to relent, they decreased every day more and more both in power and in hope.  
King Henry the next morning after he was come to the Tower, sent to the Mayor of the City to put Soldiers in arms for his resistance, who presently presented unto him three thousand Archers, and three thousand bill men, besides those that were appointed for defence of the City. The King spent upon him many good speeches, and liberally loaded him with promises and thanks; and soon after he issued out of London, with twenty thousand tall men, and came to Hounslowe Heath, abiding there, and as it were da●ing his enemies to join issue in the field: contemning their disorderly multitude, as a vain terror of names without forces. But the confederates either for fear of the King's power, or for distrust of their own, or else lingering, perhaps, after some succour out of France, refused the encounter, and doubtful it is whether they showed greater courage in setting up the danger, or cowardice in declining it when it was presented unto them.  
So they departed from Colebrook to Sunnings, a place near Redding, where Queen Isabella, King Richard's wife did then abide: to whom upon the plain truth before declared, fame had falsely descanted, that King Richard was escaped out of prison, and did lie at Pomfret with a hundred thousand armed men; and that King Henry for fear of him, was fled with his children and friends to the Tower of London. All which was as lightly believed, as it was vainly told: whereupon she defaced King Henry's arms, and plucked away his cognisance from those his servants that attended upon her; and having in some sort satisfied her womanish anger, with this harmless spite, she and the Lords departed together first to Wallingforde, and from thence to Abington, stirring the people by the way to take armour, and to rise in aid of king Richard, who was (said they) and is, and should be their Prince.  
At the last they came to Chichester, and there the Lords took their lodgings, the Duke of Surrey and the Earl of Salisbury in one Inn; the Duke of Exeter and the Earl of Gloucester in another; and all the host encamped in the fields. But the Bailiff of the town, suspecting all this countenance to be but the vain flash of a false fire, did in the night with about four score Archers, beset and set upon the house where the Duke of Surrey and the Earl of Salisbury lay: who were men but of weak resistance by nature, but being put upon necessity, showed great manhood and persistence in defending themselves against the townsmen. The Duke of Exeter and the Earl of Gloucester being in another Inn, were not able by force to rescue their associates; whereupon a certain Priest of their company set divers houses in the town on fire, supposing thereby to divert the townsmen from their assault, to the saving of their houses and of their goods: but this fire greatly inflamed their fury, and made them more obstinate in their attempt; crying out that they would never labour to rescue their losses, but to revenge them; and that with the blood of the Lords, those flames should be quenched. Then there arose confused clamours and noises, all the town being in an uproar and in arms, shooting fiercely and running upon the Lords with a rash and desperate rage; not caring to lose many, whereof they had many to spare.  
When the Earl of Exeter and they that were with him perceived the force of the assailants dangerously to increase, and that it was impossible for a few to sustain the fury of so many so obstinately bend: they fled out of the back side towards the camp, intending to bring the whole army to the rescue: but the soldiers having heard a tumu●●, and seeing fire within the town, supposed that the King was entered with all his puissance: whereupon being struck with a sudden and false fear, and wanting a commander of courage to confirm them, they ran away, and dispersed themselves without measure; and so whilst every man endeavoured to save himself, all were brought to their confusion.  
Thus the Duke of Surrey, and the Earl of Salisbury, & the Lords & Gentlemen which were in their company, were left to defend themselves against the townsmen as they could who manfully maintained the fight with great bloodshed of their enemies, from midnight until three of the clock the next day in the after noon: at the last, being inferior both in number and fortune, the Duke and the Earl were wounded to death and taken, and the same evening their heads were stricken off and sent to London: there were also taken Sir Bennet Shelley, Sir B●●nard Brokas, Sir Thomas Blunt, and 28. other Lords, Knights and Gentlemen, who were sent to Oxford, where the King then lay, and there were put to execution.  
The Duke of Exeter when he found the army dispersed and fled, fled likewise with Sir john Shelley into Essex, lamenting the certain destruction which his rashness had procured to himself, and to his friends, but most especially to King Richard; if not as a party, yet as a cause of this unhappy tumult; many times he did attempt to have escaped by sea into France, but he was always driven back by distress of weather; and so wandering and lurking in secret places, he was at the last attached as he sat at supper in a certain friends house, and led to Plashy, and there shortly after beheaded: so that a man might probably con●ecture that the death of the Duke of Gloucester was then brought in reckoning, who by his counsel and contryvance chief, in the same place had been apprehended. An excellent example for all those which measure their actions either by their pleasure, or by their power: that revenge of injurious dealing, although it be prolonged, yet doth never fail, but cometh surely although perhaps, slowly. This duke was a man of high parentage, of a frank mind, and wealth answerable thereunto: openly praise●, worthy, but his secret actions were hardly spoken of: he was of consent to all his brother's vices, and of counsel to many, yet somewhat the more close and vigilant man: and not so much partaker of his prosperity, as violently carried with the current of his misery.  
The Earl of Gloucester fled towards Wales but was forelayed and taken, and beheaded at Bristol: Magdalen● the counterfeit of King Richard; flying into Scotland, was apprehended and brought to the Tower, and afterward hanged and quartered, with W. Ferby another of King Richards Chapleines. diverse other Lords and Knights and Gentlemen; and a great number of mean and base persons were in other places put to death; insomuch as the King though otherwise of a very temperate and intreatible nature, seemed to show too hard and haughty dealing in revenging his own injury, or rather maintaining the injury he had done: the heads of the chief conspirators, were pitched upon poles, and set over London Bridge: in all other parts of the realm a spectacle both lamentable and ugly was presented to the view and terror of others: bodies hewn in pieces, heads and quarter of unfortunate dismembered wretches putrefying above ground: not all for desert, but many to satisfy either the malice or want of King Henrie● friends, insomuch as many grave men openly gave forth, that in short time there would be cause to wish King Richard again as being more tolerable to endure the cruelty of one, then of many, and to live where nothing, then where any thing might be permitted.  
The Abbot of Westminster in whose house and in whose head this confederacy began, hearing of these adventures, as he was going between his monastery and his mansion, fell suddenly into a palsy, and hardly after without speech ended his life; and although in this enterprise fortune gave policy the check, and by a strange accident which wisdom could not foresee, overturned the devise, yet is it certainly affirmed that this Abbot first stirred the stone, which rolling a long, was like to have turned king Henry out of his seat. The bishop of Caerliel, was condemned upon this treason, but the extremity of his fear, and grief, closed up his days, and prevented the violence and shame of public execution. And now king Richard after he had abdicated his dignity, did but short time enjoy that sweet security, which he did vainly expect, and first all his goods which he did give in satisfaction of the injuries that he had done, were brought to division and share amongst his enemies: shortly after he was removed from the Tower, to the Castle of Leedes in Kent, and from thence to Pomfret, to the end that by often changing he might either more secretly be dispatched, or more uncertainly found: here being kept in straight prison, both innocent & ignorant of this offence, was notwithstanding made a party in the punishment. For King Henry perceiving that the Lords so far prevailed with their late stratagem, that if their stomach had been answerable to their strength, & their blood beginning had not ended in faintness and sloth, they might have driven him to a hard hazard; caused King Richard to be put to death: intending to make sure, that no man should cloak open rebellion, under the colour of following sides, nor countenance his conspiracy, either with the person or name of K. Richard: whether he did expressly command his death, or no, it is a question, out of question he showed some liking and desire to the action, and gave allowance thereto when it was done.  
The most current report at that time went, that he was princely served every day at the Table, with abundance of costly meats, according to the order prescribed by Parliament, but was not suffered to taste or touch any one of them; and so perished of famine; being tormented with the presence of that, whereof he died for want, but such horrible and unnatural cruelty, both against a King and a kinsman, should not proceed from King Henry (me think) a man of a moderate and mild disposition, not yet from any other mind which is not altogether both savage in humanity, and in religion profane. One writer who would seem to have the perfect intelligence of these affairs, maketh report, that King Henry sitting at his table, sad and pensive, with a deep sigh broke forth into these words: Have I no faithful friend that will deliver me of him, whose life will breed destruction to me and disturbance to the realm, and whose death will be a safety and quiet to both? for how can I be free from fear, so long as the cause of my danger doth continue? and what security, what hope shall we have of peace, unless the seed of sedition be utterly rooted out?  
Upon this speech a certain Knight called Sir Pierce of Extone, presently departed from the Court, accompanied with eight tall men, and came to Pomfrete, and there commanded, that the Esquire who was accustomed to sew, and take the assay before King Richard, should no more use that manner of service: and let him (quoth he) now eat well, for he shall not eat long. King Richard sat down to dinner, and was served without courtesy or assay, whereat he marveled, and demanded of the Esquire, why he did not his duty? the Esquire answered, that he was otherwise commanded by Sir Pierce of Extone, who was lately come from King Henry. The King being somewhat moved at this act and answer, took the carving knife in his hand, and struck the Esquire therewith lightly on the head, saying, the devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee together: with that Sir Pierce entered the chamber, with eight men in harness, every one having a bill in his hand: Whereupon King Richard perceiving their drift and his own danger, put the table from him, and stepping stoutly to the foremost man, wrested the bill out of his hand, wherewith (although unarmed and alone) he manfully defended himself a good space, and slew sour of his assailants. Sir Pierce leapt to the chair where king Richard was wont to sit, whilst the rest chased him about the chamber. At the last being forced towards the place where Sir Pierce was, he with a stroke of his Pole-axe felled him to the ground: and forthwith he was miserably rid out of his miserable life. It is said that at the point of his death, he gathered some spirit, and with a faint and feeble voice, groaned forth these words.  
My great grandfather King Edward the second, was in this manner deposed, imprisoned, and murdered; by which means my grandfather king Edward the third obtained possession of the crown; and now is the punishment of that in●●trie powered upon his next successor. Well, this is right for me to suffer, but not for you to do: your King for a time may joy at my death, and enjoy his desire; but let him qualify his pleasures with expectation of the like justice: for God who measureth all our actions by the malice of our minds, will not suffer this violence unrevenged.  
Whether these words proceeded from a distempered desire, or from the judgement of his foresight, they were not altogether idle and vain. For Sir Pierce expecting great favour and rewards for his ungracious service, was frustrated of both, and not only miss that countenance for which he hoped, but lost that which before he had: so odious are vices even where they are profitable.  
Hereupon he grew at the first discontented, and afterwards mightily turmoiled and tormented in conscience, and raging against himself would often exclaim, that to pleasure one unthankful person, he had made both himself and his posterity, hateful and infamous to all the world.  
King Henry with great discontentment and disquiet held the kingdom during his life: and so did his son King Henry the fifth: in whose time by continual wars against the Frenchmen, the malice of the humour was otherwise exercised and spent. But his second successor King Henry the sixth was dispossessed thereof, and together with his young son Henry imprisoned and put to death, either by the commandment or connivance of King Edward the fourth.  
And he also escaped not free; for he died not without many 〈…〉 suspicions of poison's and after his death his two sons were disinherited, imprisoned, and butchered by their cruel Uncle the Duke of Gloucester, who being a tyrant and usurper, was lawfully slain in the field; and so in his person (having no issue) the tragedy did end. Which are most rare and excellent examples both of comfort to them that are oppressed, and of terror to violent dealers; that God in his secret judgement doth not always so certainly provide for our safety, as revenge our injuries and harms: and that all our unjust actions have a day of payment, and many times by way of retaliation, even in the same manner and measure wherein they were committed.  
And thus was King Richard brought to his death, by violence and force as all writers agree, although all agree not upon the manner of the violence▪ He was a man of parsonage rather well proportioned then tall of great beauty, and grace, and comeliness in presence; he was of a good strength, and no abject spirit; but the one by ease▪ the other by flattery were much abased. He deserved many friends, but found few, because he sought them more by liberality, then virtuous dealing. He 〈◊〉 marvelous 〈◊〉 in all his actions, which may very well be 〈◊〉 to his negligence and sloth; for he that is not provident can seldom prosper, but by his looseness, will lose▪ whatsoever fortune, or other men's 〈…〉 he was driven is such distress, that 〈…〉, it as a benefit to be disburdened of his royal dignity, for which other men will not stick; to put their goods, and lives, and souls in hazard.  
He lived three and thirty years, and reigned two and twenty. His dead body was embalmed, and 〈…〉 covered with Lead all save his face, and carried 〈…〉 and in all the chief places by the, way, his face was 〈…〉, that by view thereof no doubt should be made concerning his death. At London he had a solemn obsequy kept in the Cathedral Church of Saint Paul●, the King being present, and all the chief 〈…〉  
Then he was conveyed to Langley Abbey in Bucking, ham shire, about 〈…〉 mile from London, and there obscurely 〈◊〉 by the Bishop of Chester, the Abbot of S. Alban's, and the Abbot of Waltham, without presence of noble men, without co●●●uence of the common people, and without the charge of a dinner for celebrating the 〈…〉 but afterward on the commandment of King Henry the fifth, his body was taken up, and removed to Westminster, and honourably entombed amongst his ancestors, with Queen Anne his wife, in expiation (as it is like) of his Father's violent and unfaithful dealing. So he whose life was always tumultuous and unquiet, could not readily find rest for his bones, even after death. It was not amiss in regard of the common wealth that he was dead; yet they who caused his death had small reason to reckon it among their good deeds.  
And thus do these and the like accidents daily happen to such Princes as will be absolute in power, resolute in will, and dissolute in life.  
This year Hunfrey the son and heir of the Duke of Gloucester, died of the plague? as he returned out of Ireland where King Richard had 〈◊〉 him prisoner; and shortly after the Duchess his mother with violence of grief ended her daye● this year also died Thomas Mo●bray the exiled duke of Norfolk, whose death would much have been lamented, if he had not furthered so many lamentable deaths: but he overlived his honour, & saw himself accounted a person infamed and of no estimation. Likewise about this 〈…〉 Duke of Britain deceased, who had taken to wife Mary daughter to King Edward the third, and by her had no issue, but by joan his second wife he left behind him three sons, john, Richard & Arthur: this joan was afterwards married to K. Henry, as hereafter shall appear. Also this year Edmund Duke of York departed this life, his honour not stayrred, his fame not touched: he was a man very circumspect and wary in his carriage; not careless of a good fame, nor greedy after a great: of other men's wealth not desirous, liberal of his own, and of the common sparing: he did not by obstinate opposing himself against the current of the time, rashly hasten, either his fame or his fall, but by moderation attained safely that degree of praise, and honour, which others aspiring unto by desperate courses, wan with ambitious death, without any other profit at all; He left behind him two noble sons, express resemblencers of his integrity: Edward, who succeeded in his dignity, and before was called Duke of Aumerle, and Richard Earl of Cambridge. Edward, in the change of the state, neither constantly kept his fidelity, nor stoutly maintained his treason. Richard took to wife the daughter and heir of Roger Mortimer, whose mother Philip was sole daughter and heir to Lionel Duke of Clarence, the third son of King Edward the third, by which title and descent, his posterity claimed the Crown and kingdom of this realm from the successors of King Henry, as hereafter more at large shall be declared.  
Charles King of France lost no time all this while in making preparation to invade England: and to that end had now raised an army royal, which was brought down into Picardy, and in a readiness to have been transported. But it is very like that this haste for the deliverance of King Richard did the more hasten his death: upon news whereof the Frenchmen perceiving their purpose for his restitution to be to no purpose, gave over the enterprise; some being grieved that the occasion was lost of making spoil of so plentiful a country, others being well content to be discharged of that hope together with the hazard whereupon it depended. Shortly after the French King sent a solemn Embassage into England, to treat, or rather entreat, that Lady Isabella his daughter, who had been espoused to King Richard, might with her dowry be restored to him again. King Henry most honourably received these Ambassadors, and gave in answer, that he would speedily send his Commissioners to Calais, which should fully commune and conclude with them, both of this and other weighty affairs concerning both the realms.  
Not long after he sent Edward Duke of York, and Henry Earl of Northumberland to Calais: Also the French King sent the Duke of Burbone and certain others to Bulloyne. These Commissioners did often meet, sometimes at one place, and sometimes at another: the Frenchmen especially required, that Lady Isabella should be restored, showing that King Charles her Father had given in charge, that this before all matters, and without this nothing should be concluded. On the other side the Englishmen desired that she might be married to Henry Prince of Wales King Henry's eldest Son, a man answerable to her in equal degree both of blood and of years: but the French King denied that he would any more join affinity with the English nation, whose alliance had once so unfortunately succeeded: them they entered into speech of a perpetual peace, but hereto the Frenchmen would not agree. In the end it was concluded that Lady Isabella should be delivered to King Charles her Father but without Dower; because the marriage between King Richard and her, was never consummate: by reason whereof she was not dowable by the very treaty of the marriage. Also the surcease of arms which four years before had been made with King Richard for the term of 30 years, was continued and confirmed for the time then unexpired. Some authors affirm that a new truce was taken, but these also are at diffierence: for some report that it was during the life of both the Kings, others that it was but for a short time, which hath the more appearance of truth, by reason of the open hostility which the year following did break forth between the two realms.  
Shortly after King Henry sent the Lady Isabella under the conduct of Lord Thomas Percy Earl of Worcester, in royal estate to Calais: she was accompanied with a great troop of honourable personages, both men and women; and carried with her all the jewels and plate which she brought into England, with a great surple sage of rich gifts bestowed upon her by the king: at Calais she was received by the Earl of S. Paul, Lieutenant for the French king in Picardy, and by him was conducted to king Charles her Father, who afterwards gave her in marriage to Cbarles, son to Lewes Duke of Orleans: and so was either rest or respite of wars procured in France, whilst nearer stirs might be brought to some stay.  
For within the realm, the fire and fury of the late sedition was scarcely quenched and quiet, but (that the common wealth should not cease to be torn by multiplying of divisions, one straight succeeding another) the Welshmen, upon advantage of the doubtful and unsettled estate of king Henry, resolved to break and make a defection; before either the king could ground his authority, or the people frame themselves to a new obedience: and having learned that common causes must be maintained by concord, they sought by assemblies to establish an association, and to set up their own principality again.  
To this purpose they created for their Prince, Owen Glendor an Esquire of Wales, a factious person, and apt to set up division and strife: and although he was of no great state in birth; yet was he great and stately in stomach: of an aspiring spirit, and in wit somewhat above the ordinary of that untrained people: bold, crafty, active, and as he listed to bend his mind, mischievous or industrious in equal degree, in desires immoderate, and rashly adventurous, in his young years he was brought up to the study of the Common Law of the Realm, at London: and when he came to man's estate, besides a natural fierceness and hatred to the English name, he was particularly incensed by a private suit, for certain lands in controversy, between the Lord Grace of Ruthen and him; wherein his title was overthrown; and being a man by nature not of the mildest, by this provocation he was made savage and rough; determining either to repair or to revenge his loss, by setting the whole state on fire. Also his expense and liberality had been too excessive for a great man to endure, which brought him to bareness too base for a mean man to bear: and therefore he must of necessity do and dare somewhat, and more danger there was in soft and quiet dealing, then in hazarding rashly. Herewith opportunity was then likewise presented: for troublesome times are most fit for great attempts, and some likelihood there was, whilst the King and the Lords were hard at variance, that harm might easily be wrought to them both. Upon these causes his desire was founded, and upon these troubles his hope. But that his aspiring and ambitious humour might bear some show of honest meaning, he pretended to his countrymen the recovery of their free estate, the desire whereof was so naturally sweet, that even wild Birds will rather live hardly at large in the air, then be daintily dieted by others in a Cage: and opportunity was at that time fitly offered, or else never to be expected, to rid them of their thraldom, falsely and colourably entitled a peace; whilst the one King's power was waning, and the other not yet fully wexen, and either of them grew weak by wasting the other: neither was there any difference which of them should prevail, sith the war touched both alike, insomuch as the overthrow would ruin the one, and the victory the other: So he exhorted them to take courage and arms: and first to kill all the English within their territories, for liberty and Lords could not endure together: then to resume their ancient customs and laws, whereby more than arms, commonwealths are established and enlarged: so should they be a people uncorrupt, without admi●tion of foreign manners or blood; and so should they forget servitude, and either live at liberty, or else perhaps, be Lords over other.  
hereupon many flocked unto him, the best for love of liberty, the basest of desire of booty and spoil, insomuch as in short time he became commander of competent forces to stand openly in the field. And being desirous to make some proof of his prowess, he sharply set upon his old adversary Reignold Lord Grey of Ruthen, whose possessions he wasted and spoiled, slew many of his men, and took himself prisoner; yet gave him fair and friendly entertainment, and promised him releasement, if he would take his daughter to wife. This he desired, not so much for need of his ability or aid, as supposing that the name and countenance of a Lord, would give reputation to the house that was then but in rising: But the Lord Greye at the first did not so much refuse as scorn the offer: affirming that he was no ward, to have his marriage obtruded upon him. Well (said Owen Glendore) although you be not my ward▪ yet are you in my ward: and the suing of your livery will cost double the marriage money that elsewhere you shall procure. The Lord Grey being not very rich to discharge his ransom, and seeing no other means of his deliverance, at the last accepted the condition, and took the damosel to wife; notwithstanding his deceitful Father in law trifled out the time of his enlargement until he died.  
The Welshmen being confident upon this success, began to break into the borders of Hereford shire, and to make spoil and pray of the Country: against whom Lord Edmund Mortimer Earl of March, who for fear of King Henry had withdrawn himself (as hath been declared) to Wiggmore Castle, assembled all the Gentlemen of the Country, and meeting with the Welshmen, they joined together a sharp and cruel conflict: not in form of a lose skirmish, but standing still and maintaining their place, they endeavoured with main might to break and bear down one another. The courage and resolution of both sides was a like, but the Welshmen were superior both for number and direction: for they were conducted by one known leader, who with his presence every where assisted at need, inflaming his Soldiers, some with shame and reproof, others with praise and encouragement, all with hope and large promises: but the Englishmen had no certain general, but many confused commanders, yea, every man was a commander to himself▪ pressing forward or drawing back, as his own courage or fear did move him. Insomuch as no doubt they had taken a great blow that day by their ill governed boldness, had not Owen Glendor presently upon the breaking up of the field, ceased to pursue the execution, and showed himself more able to get a victory, then skilful to use it. But even to his side the victory had cost blood, and many of those which remained, were either wounded or weary: the night was near also, and they were in their enemies country; by which means our men had liberty to retire rather than run away, no man being hot to follow the chase. They lost of their company about a thousand men, who sold their lives at such a price, that when manhood had done the hardest against them, certain mannish, or rather devilish women, whose malice is immortal, exercised a vain revenge upon their dead bodies; in cutting off their privy parts and their noses, whereof the one they stuffed into their mouths, and pressed the other between their buttocks; and would not suffer their mangled carcases to be committed to the earth, until they were redeemed with a great sum of money. By which cruel covetousness, the faction lost reputation and credit with the moderate sort of their own people; suspecting that it was not liberty but licentiousness, which was desired: and that subjection to such unhumaine minds would be more insupportable than any bondage.  
In this conflict the Earl of March was taken prisoner and fettered with chains, and cast into a deep and vile dungeon. The King was solicited by many noble men, to use some means for his deliverance; but he would not hear on that ear; he could rather have wished him and his two sisters in heaven, for then the only blemish to his title had been out of the way: and no man can tell whether this mischance did not preserve him from a greater mischief.  
Owen Glendor by the prosperous success of his actions, was grown now more hard to be dealt with, and hautelie minded, and stood even upon terms of equality with the King: whereupon he proceeded further to invade the Marches of Wales on the West side of Severne; where he burned many villages and towns, slew much people, and returned with great prey, and praises of his adherents. Thus he ceased not this year to infest the borderers on every side, amongst whom he found so weak resistance, that he seemed to exercise rather a spoil then a war. For King Henry was then detained with his chiefest forces in another more dangerous service, which besides these former vexations and hazards, this first year of his reign happened unto him.  
For the Scots knowing that changes were times most apt for attempt, and upon advantage of the absence of all the chief English borderers, partly by occasion of the Parliament, and partly by reason of the plague which was very grievous that year in the North parts of the realm: they made a road into the country of Northumberland, and there committed great havoc and harm. Also on a certain night they suddenly set upon the Castle of work, the captain whereof sir Thomas Grace, was then one of the knights of the Parliament: & having slain the watch partly a sleep, partly amazed with fear, they broke in and surprised the place: which they held a while, and at the last spoiled and ruined and then departed. Whilst further harms were feared this passed with light regard. But when great perils were passed, as if no worse misfortune could have befallen, then was it much sorrowed and lamented. And in revenge thereof, the Englishmen invaded and spoiled certain Islands of Orkney: and so the loss was in some sort repaired: yet (as in reprisals of war it commonly falleth out) neither against those particular persons which committed the harm, nor for those which suffered it: but one for another were both recompensed and revenged. Again the Scots set forth a fleet, under the conduct of Sir Robert Logon, with direction to attempt as occasion should be offered: his first purpose was against our Fishermen; but before he came to any action, he was encountered by certain English ships, and the greatest part of his fleet taken. Thus peace still continuing between both the realms, a kind of thievish hostility was daily practised, which afterwards broke out into open war upon this occasion.  
George of Dunbarre Earl of the Marches of Scotland, had betrothed Elisabeth his daughter to David, the son and heir apparent of Robert King of Scots, and in regardc of that marriage to be shortly celebrated and finished, he delivered into the King's hands a great sum of money for his Daughter's dowry. But Archibalde Earl Douglas disdaining that the Earl of Marches blood should be preferred before his, so wrought with King Robert, that Prince David his son refused the Earl of Marches Daughter, and took to wife Mariell Daughter to the Earl Douglas: Earl George not used to offers of disgrace, could hardly enforce his patience to endure this scorn: and first he demanded restitution of his money, not so much for care to obtain as for desire to pieke an occasion of breaking his allegiance. The King would make to him neither payment nor promise, but trifled him off with many 〈◊〉 and vaire delays▪ Whcreuppon he fled with all his; family into England to 〈◊〉 earl of Northumberland, intending with open disloyalty both to revenge his indignity, and recover his loss. The Englishmen with open arms entertained the opportunity; with whose help and assistance the Earl made diverse incursions into Scotland, where he burned many 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 much people and daily purchased with his sword▪ great abundance of 〈◊〉 and spoil.  
hereupon King Robert deprived the Earl of his honour, seized all his goods and possessions, and wrote unto King Henry, as he would have the much between them any longer to continue; either to deliver unto him the Earl of March and other ●aytours to his person and state or else to banish them the realm of England▪ King henry perceiving such jars to iogger between the two realms, that the peace was already as it were out of joints, determined not to lose the benefit of the discontented subjects of his enemy: whereupon he returned answer to the Herald of Scotland, that he was neither weary of, peace not fearful of wars, and ready as occasion should change, either to hold me one, or hazard the other▪ but the word of a Prince was of great weight; and therefore sith he had granted a safe conduct to the Earl of March and his company, it were an impeachment to his honour, without just cause to violate the same. Upon this answer the King of Scots did presently proclaim open war against the King of England, with blood, fire, and sword.  
King Henry thought it policy, rather to begin the war in his enemy's country, then to expect it in his own: because the land which is the 〈◊〉 of the war, doth commonly furnish both sides with necessary supply; the friend by contribution, and the enemy by spoil. Therefore sending certain troops of horsemen before him, both to espy and to induce an uncertain terror upon the enemy, he entered into Scotland with a puissant army; wherewith he burned many Villages and Towns, cast down diverse Castles, and ruined a great part of the Towns of Edinburgh and Lith, sparing nothing but Churches and religious houses: so that in all places as he passed, the spectacle was ugly and grisly which he left behind him; bodies torn in pieces, mangled and putrefied limbs, the air infected with stink, the ground imbrued with corruption and blood, the country wasted, the Grass and Corn trodden down and spoiled; insomuch as a man would have said that war is an exercise not of manhood, but of inhumanity. They that fled before the army, filled all places with fear and terror, extolling above truth the English foreces, to diminish thereby their shame in running from them.  
In the end of September the King besieged the Castle of Maidens in Edinburgh; wherein were David Duke of Rothsaye Prince of the realm, and Archibald● Earl Dowglasle; the inconstancy of the one, and ambition of the other, were principal causes of all this war.  
During this siege, Robert Duke of Albonye, who was appointed governor of the Realm, because the King was sick and unable to rule, sent an Herald unto Henry; assuring him upon his honour, that if he would abide but six days at the most, he would give him battle; and either remove the siege, or lose his life.  
The King was well pleased with these tidings, and rewarded the Herald with a gown of silk and a chain of gold, and promised him in the word of a Prince, to abide there and expect the governor, during the time by him prefixed.  
The six days passed, almost six times over and no more news was heard of the Governor, either by presence or by messenger. Winter came on, and victual failed, the Country was cold and fruitless, and it rained every day in great abundance: so that partly by hunger, partly by distemperature of the weather, the Soldiers began to die of the Flix; it is very like that these accidents stayed the Governor from performing his promise, for policy was against it, to hazard his men in the field, when winter and want, two forcible foes, had given the charge upon his enemies: certain it is, that they moved the King to remove his siege, and to departed out of Scotland, without any battle or skirmish offered.  
Both the Wardens of the Marches were all this time in Scotland with the King: upon which advantage the Scots did break into Northumberland, and burned certain towns in Bamborough shire. The English men were speedily up in arms; but the Scots more speedily made their return, or else no doubt they had been met with and encountered.  
Again when King Henry had discharged his army, the Scots being desirous not so much of life as of revenge, made a sudden road into England, under the conduct of Sir Thomas Halsbarton of Dirleton, and Sir Patrick Hebburne of Hales: but all the harm which they wrought did rather waken then weaken the Englishmen: and they themselves were somewhat encouraged, but nothing enriched, by that which they got.  
Not long after, Sir Patrick Hebburne, being lifted up in desire and hope, resolved to undertake a greater enterprise: the people, which are 〈…〉 by prosporous success, in great companies resorted to him; but he was loath to have more fellows in the spoil, than he thought should need in the danger: therefore with a competent army of the men of Loughdeane, he invaded a Northumberland, where he made great spoil, and loaded his Soldiers with prisoners and pray. There was no question made what peril might be in the return▪ Therefore they marched loosen and 〈…〉, as in a place of great security, not keeping themselves to their ensigns and order: but the Earl of Northumberlands Vicewarden, and order Gentlemen of the borders in good array, set upon them at a town in Northumberland called 〈◊〉▪ The scots rallied as well as the soddainnesse did serve, and valiantly received the charge; so that the battle was sharp and 〈◊〉, and continued a good time, with great mortality. In the end the enemies ranks grew thin, as being rather confusedly shuffled together, then orderly and firmly compacted: and when the Vicewarden 〈◊〉 them weak in the shock, and yielding under his hand, with a company which purposely retained about him for sudden disp●tene● and chances of war, he flercely charged and disordered them. Sir Patrick Hebburne being clean destitute both of counsel and courage, ran up and down from one place to another, commanding many things, and presently forbidding them again; and the less of force his directions were, the oftener did he change them: anon (as it happeneth in lost and desperate cases) every man became a commander, and none a putter in execution: so the ranket loosed and broke, and could not be reunited, the victor hotly pursuing the advantage. Then might you have 〈◊〉 a grievous spectacle, pursuing, kill, wounding and taking, and killing those that were taken, when better were offered: every where weapons, and dead bodies, and mangled lim●, lay scattered: and sometimes in those that were slain, appeared at their death both anger and valour. Sir Patrick Hebburne thought of nothing less than either fleeing or yielding, but thrusting among the thickest of his enemies, honourably ended his life. Many other of his lineage, and the flower of all Loughdeane were likewise slain. There 〈…〉 side no great number was slain; and those of no great service and degree. And with these troubles the first year of King Henry the fourth ended. (⸫)  
FINIS.   

LONDON. Printed by john Wolf, and are to be sold at his shop in Pope's head alley, near the Exchange. 1599