The Fall of Richard Plantagenet, Earl of Cambridge, Put to Death at Southampton

Haste maketh waste, hath commonly ben sayd,
And secrete mischiefe seelde hath lucky speede:
A murdering minde with proper poyze is wayd,
All this is true, I finde it in my creede:
And therefore, Baldwine, warne all states take heede,
How they conspire any other to betrappe,
Least mischiefe ment, light in the miner’s lappe.

For I lord Richard, heyre Plantagenet,
Was earle of Cambridge and right fortunate,
If I had had the grace my wit to set,
To haue content mee with mine owne estate:
But, O, false honours, breeders of debate,
The loue of you our lewde hartes doth allure,
To leese our selues by seeking you vnsure.

Because my brother Edmund Mortimer,
Whose eldest sister was my wedded wife,
I meane that Edmund that was prisoner
In Walles so long, through Owen’s busie strife,
Because I say that after Edmunde’s life,
His rightes and titles must by lawe bee mine,
For hee ne had, nor could encrease his line.

Because the right of realme and crowne was ours,
I searched meanes to helpe him thereunto:
And where the Henries held it by theyr powres,
I sought a shift their tenures to vndoe,
Which being force, sith force or sleight must doe,
I voide of might, because their powre was strong,
Set priuy sleight against their open wrong.

But sith the death of most part of my kin
Did dashe my hope, through out the father’s dayes
I let it slip, and thought it best begin,
Whan as the sonne should dred least such assaies:
For force through spede, sleight speedeth through delayes,
And seeld doth treason time so fitly finde,
As whan all daungers most bee out of minde.

Wherefore while Henry, of that name the fifte,
Prepard his army to goe conquere Fraunce,
Lord Scroope and I thought to attempt a drift
To put him downe, my brother to auaunce:
But were it God’s will, my lucke, or his good chaunce
The king wist wholly where about wee went
The night before to shipward hee him bent.

Then were wee straight as traytours apprehended,
Our purpose spied, the cause thereof was hid,
And therefore, loe a false cause wee pretended,
Where through my brother was fro daunger rid:
Wee sayd, for hire of French kinge’s coyne wee did
Behight to kill the king: and thus with shame
Wee staind our selues, to saue our frend fro blame.

When wee had thus confest so foule a treason,
That wee deserued, wee suffered by the lawe:
See, Baldwine, see, and note (as it is reason)
How wicked deedes to woefull endes doe drawe:
All force doth faile, no craft is worth a strawe
To attayne thinges lost, and therefore let them goe,
For might ruleth right, and will though truth say no.