The Fall of Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, Unlawfully Murdered

Whose state stablisht is, in seeming most sure,
And so far from daunger of fortune’s blastes,
As by the compasse of man’s coniecture,
No brasen piller may be fyxt more fast:
Yet wanting the stay of prudent forecast,
Whan froward fortune list for to frowne,
May in a moment turne vpside downe.

In proofe whereof, O Baldwine, take payne,
To hearken a while to Thomas of Woodstocke,
Addrest in presence his fate to complayne,
In the forlorne hope of English flocke:
Extract by discent from the royall stocke,
Sonne to king Edwarde, thirde of that name,
And second to none in glory and fame.

This noble father to mayntayne my state,
With Buckingham earledome did mee indowe,
Both nature and fortune to mee were greate,
Denying mee nothing which they might allowe:
Theyr sundry graces in mee did so flowe,
As beauty, strength, high fauour and fame,
Who may of God more wish then the same?

Brothers wee were to the nombre of seauen,
I being the sixt, and yongest but one:
A more royall race was not vnder heauen,
More stout or more stately of stomacke and person,
Princes all peerelesse in eche condition:
Namely sir Edwarde, called the blacke prince,
When had England the like before, or euer since?

But what of all this, any man to assure,
In state vncarefull of fortune’s variaunce?
Syth dayly and hourely wee see it in vre,
That where most cause is of affiaunce,
Euen there is founde most weake assurance:
Let none trust fortune, but follow reason:
For often wee see in trust is treason.

This prouerbe in proofe ouer true I tried,
Finding high treason in place of high trust,
And most fault of fayth where I most affied,
Being, by them that should haue been iuste,
Trayterously entrapt, ere I could mistrust:
Ah wretched world what it is to trust thee?
Let them that will learne now hearken to mee.

After king Edwarde the thirde’s decease,
Succeeded my nephewe Richarde to raigne,
Who for his glory and honour’s encrease,
With princely wages did mee entertayne,
Against the Frenchmen to bee his chieftayne:
So passing the seas with royall puissaunce,
With God and S. George I inuaded Fraunce.

Wasting the countrey with sworde and with fire,
Ouerturning townes, high castles and towers,
Like Mars god of warre, enflamed with ire,
I forced the Frenchmen t’abandon theyr bowres:
Where euer wee matcht I wanne at all howres,
In such wise visiting both city and village,
That alway my souldiers were laden with pillage.

With honour and triomph was my returne,
Was none more ioyous than yong king Richarde:
Who minding more highly my state to adorne,
With Glocester dukedome did mee rewarde:
And after in mariage I was prefarde,
To a daughter of Bohun, an earle honourable,
By whome I was of England high constable.

Thus hoysed so high on fortune’s wheele,
As one on a stage attending a play,
Seeth not on which side the scaffolde doth reele,
Till timbre and poales and all fly away:
So fared it by mee: for day by day,
As honour encreased I looked still higher,
Not seeing the daunger of my fond desire.

For fortune’s floude thus running with full streame,
And I a duke discended of great kinges,
Constable of England, chiefe officer of the realme,
Abused with desperaunce in these vayne thinges,
I went without feete, and flewe without winges,
Presuming so farre vpon my high estate,
That dreade set apart, my prince I would mate.

For where as all kinges haue counsayle of theyr choyse,
To whom they refer the rule of theyr land,
With certayne familiers in whome to reioyce,
For pleasure or profite, as the case shall stand,
I not bearing this, would needes take in hand,
Maugre his will, those persons to disgrace,
And such as I thought fit to settle in theyr place.

But as an old booke sayeth, who so will assay
Aboute the cat’s necke to hang on any bell,
Had first neede to cut the cat’s clawes away,
Least if the cat bee curst, and not tamed well,
She haply with her nayles may clawe him to the fell:
So putting on the bell about the cat’s necke,
By being to busy I caught a cruell checke.

Reade well the sentence of the rat of renowne,
Which Pierce the plowman describes in his dreame,
And who so hath wit the sence to expowne,
Shall finde that to bridell the prince of a reame,
Is euen (as who sayth) to striue with the streame:
Note this all subiects, and construe it well,
And busie not your braines about the cat’s bell.

But in that yee bee lieges learne to obay,
Submitting your willes to your prince’s lawes:
It fitteth not a subiect to haue his owne way,
Remember this prouerbe of the cat’s clawes:
For princes like lions haue long and large pawes
That reache at randon, and whome they once twitch,
They clawe to the bone before the skin itch.

But to my purpose, I being once bent,
Towardes the atchieuing of my attemptate,
Fower bould barons were of mine assent,
By oth and allyaunce fastly confederate:
First Henry of Derby, an earle of estate,
Richard of Arundell, and Thomas of Warwicke,
With Mowbray the Marshall, a man most warlicke.

At Ratecote bridge assembled our bande,
The commons in clusters came to vs that day
To daunt Robert Veere, then duke of Irelande,
By whome king Richard was ruled alway:
Wee put him to flight, and brake his aray,
Then maugre the king, his leaue or assent,
By constable’s power wee calde a parliament.

Where not in roabes, but with baslardes bright,
Wee came [for] to parle of the publike weale,
Confirming our quarell with maine and [with] might,
With swordes and no wordes wee tried our appeale:
In steede of reason declaring our zeale,
And whome so wee knew with the king in [good] grace,
Wee plainely depriued of power and [of] place.

Some with short processe were banisht the land,
Some executed with capytall paine,
Whereof who so list, the whole to vnderstand,
In the parliament roll it appeareth plaine,
And furder how stoutly wee did the king straine,
The rule of his realme wholly to resygne,
To the order of those, whome wee did assigne.

But note the sequele of such presumption,
After wee had these miracles wrought,
The king inflamed with indignation,
That to such bondage hee should bee brought,
Suppressing the ire of his inwarde thought,
Studied naught else but how that hee might
Bee highly reuenged of this high dispite.

Aggreeued was also this latter offence,
With former matter his ire to renue:
For once at Windsore I brought to his presence,
The maior of London with all his retinue,
To aske a reckoning of the realme’s reuenue:
And the souldiers of Brest by mee were made bolde,
Their wages to claime when the towne was solde.

These griefes remembred with all the remnaunt,
Hourded in his harte hate out of measure,
Yet openly in shewe made hee no semblaunt,
By word or by deede to beare displeasure:
But loue dayes dissembled doe neuer endure,
And who so trusteth a foe reconcylde,
Is for the most part alwayes beguilde.

For as fyre ill quencht will vp at a starte,
And sores not well salued doe breake out of newe,
So hatred hidden in an irefull harte,
Where it hath had long season to brewe,
Upon euery occasion doth easely renewe:
Not failyng at last, if it bee not let,
To pay large vsury besides the due det.

Euen so it fared by this frendship fayned,
Outwardly sounde, and inwardly rotten:
For whan the kinge’s fauour in seeming was gayned,
All olde displeasures forgieuen and forgotten,
Euen than at a sodayn the shafte was shotten,
Which pearced my harte voyde of mistrust:
Alas, that a prince should bee so vniust.

For lying at Plashey my selfe to repose,
By reason of sickenesse which helde mee full sore:
The king espying mee apart from those,
With whom I confedered in hand before,
Thought it not meete to tract the time more,
But glad to take mee at such a vauntage,
Came to salute mee with friendly visage.

Who hauing a band bound to his bent,
By colour of kindnesse to visite his eame,
Tooke time to accomplishe his cruell entent:
And in a small vessell downe by the streame,
Conuey’d mee to Calais out of the realme,
Where without processe or dome of my peeres,
Not nature but murder abridged my yeeres.

This act was odious to God and to man,
Yet rygour to cloake in habit of reason,
By crafty compasse deuise they can,
Articles nine of right haynous treason:
But doome after death is sure out of season,
For who euer sawe so straunge a president,
As execution done before iudgement.

Thus hate harboured in depth of minde
By sought occasion burst out of newe,
And cruelty abused the lawe of kinde,
When that the nephue the vncle slewe:
Alas, king Richard, sore maist thou rue,
Which by this fact preparedst the way,
Of thy hard destiny to hasten the day.

For bloud axeth bloud as guerdon due,
And vengeaunce for vengeaunce is iust rewarde:
O righteous God, thy iudgementes are true,
For looke what measure wee other awarde,
The same for vs agayne is preparde:
Take heede yee princes by examples past,
Bloud will haue bloud, eyther first or last.