The History of King Richard the Third by Thomas More. "Whereof I think no man expects that we should remind you of examples by name, as though Burdet were forgotten, who was for a word spoken in haste, cruelly beheaded by the misconstruing of the laws of this realm for the Prince's pleasure; with no less honor to Markham, then Chief Justice, who left his office rather than assent to that judgment or to the dishonesty of those who either for fear or flattery gave that judgment. What about Cook, your own worshipful neighbor, alderman and mayor of this noble city? Who among you is either so negligent that he knows not, or so forgetful that he remembers not, or so hardhearted that he pities not that worshipful man's loss? What? Speak we of loss? His utter spoil and underserved destruction, only because it chanced those to favor him whom the Prince favored not. We need not, I suppose, rehearse these any more by name, since there be, I doubt not, many here present that either in themselves or their close friends have known as well their goods, as their persons, greatly endangered, either by feigned quarrels or small matters aggravated with heinous names.

"Yet also there was no crime so great of which there could lack a pretext. For because the King, preventing the time of his inheritance, attained the crown by battle, it sufficed in a rich man a pretext of treason to have been of kindred or alliance, near familiarity or slight acquaintance with any of those that were at any time the King's enemies, who were at one time and another, more then half the realm. Thus were not your goods in safety, and yet they brought your bodies in jeopardy, not to mention the common adventure of open war. And such war, although it is ever the will and occasion of much mischief, yet is it never so mischievous as where any people fall at division among themselves, nor in none earthly nation so deadly and so pestilent as when it happens among us, and among us never so long continued dissension, nor so many battles in the season, nor so cruel and deadly fought, as was in the days of the King who died, God forgive his soul.

"For in his time and by his actions, the getting of the garland, keeping it, losing and winning again, have cost more English blood than has twice the winning of France. In such inward war among ourselves has been so great effusion of the ancient noble blood of this realm that scarcely the half remains, to the great enfeebling of this noble land, besides many a good town ransacked and spoiled by them that have been going to the field or coming from thence. And peace, long afterwards, was not much surer than war. So that no time was there in which rich men for their money, and great men for their lands, or some other for some fear or some displeasure were not out of peril. For whom trusted he that mistrusted his own brother? Whom spared he that killed his own brother? Or who could perfectly love him, if his own brother could not?

"What manner of folk this King most favored, we shall for his honor spare to speak of; however, this know you well all, that whoso was best favored, bore always least rule, and more suit was in his days made unto Shore's wife, a vile and abominable strumpet, than to all the lords in England, except unto those that made her their advocate; and such a simple woman was well named and honest till the King, for his wanton lust and sinful affection, bereft her from her husband-a right honest, substantial young man among you.

"And in that point, which in good faith I am sorry to speak of, saving that it is in vain to keep in counsel that thing all men know, the King's greedy appetite was insatiable and everywhere over all the realm intolerable. For no woman was there anywhere, young or old, rich or poor, whom he set his eye upon, in whom he anything liked, either person or favor, speech, pace, or countenance, but without any fear of God or respect of his honor, murmur or grudge of the world, he would urgently pursue his appetite, and have her, to the great destruction of many a good woman, and great suffering to their husbands, and their other friends, who, being honest people of themselves, so much regard the purity of their house and the chastity of their wives and their children that they would rather lose all that they have beside than to have such a villainy done them.

"And with all of it done, with this and other unbearable dealing, the realm was in every part annoyed, yet specially you here, the citizens of this noble city, as well because among you is most plenty of all such things as those who minister matter to such injuries, but also because you were nearest at hand, since near here was commonly his dwelling place. And yet, be you the people whom he had a singular cause well and kindly to treat as well as any part of his realm, not only because the Prince, by this noble city (as his special chamber and the special well-renowned city of his realm) receives much honorable fame among all other nations, but also because-with your great cost and sundry perils and jeopardies in all his wars-you bore ever your special favor to his part, which your kind minds carried to the house of York. Since that King has nothing worthily requited, there is of that house he whom now, by God's grace, better shall be-which, to show you, is the whole sum and effect of this our present errand.

"It shall not, I know well, need be that I rehearse to you again what you have already heard from him who can better tell it, and of whom I am sure you will better believe it. And reasonable is that it be so. I am not so proud to expect, therefore, that you should reckon my words with the great authority as the preachers of the word of God, namely, like that preacher so intelligent and so wise that no man better knows what he should say, and so good and virtuous that he would not say the thing that he knew he should not say in the pulpit-the very place into which no honest man comes to lie. This honorable preacher, you well remember, substantially declared unto you at Paul's Cross, on Sunday last, that the right and title unto that most excellent Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester, now Protector of this realm, has to the crown and kingdom of the same.

The History of King Richard the Third by Thomas More. Now then, by and by, as if it were for anger and not for covetousness, the Protector sent into the house of Shore's wife (for her husband dwelled not with her) and spoiled her of all that ever she had, above the value of two or three thousand marks, and sent her body to prison. And when he had a while laid accusations unto her for the sake of appearances-that she went about to bewitch him, and she was of counsel with the Lord Chamberlain to destroy him-in conclusion, when no pretext could fasten upon these matters, then he laid heinously to her charge the thing that she herself could not deny, that all the world knew was true, and that nevertheless every man laughed at to hear it then so suddenly so highly taken, that she was wicked with her body. And for this cause (as a goodly continent prince, clean and faultless of himself, sent out of heaven into this vicious world for the amendment of men's manners), he caused the Bishop of London to put her to open penance, going before the cross in procession upon a Sunday with a taper in her hand.

During which procession, she went in such countenance and pace demure and so womanly, and although she went without all attire save her outer petticoat alone, yet went she so fair and lovely, that, namely, while the wondering of the people cast a comely redness in her cheeks (of which she before had been most missing), her great shame won her much praise among those that were more amorous of her body than curious of her soul, and many good folk also, that hated her living and glad were to see sin corrected, yet pitied they more her penance than rejoiced therein, when they considered that the Protector procured it more of a corrupt intent than any virtuous affection.

This woman was born in London, with worthy friends, honestly brought up, and very well married (saving somewhat too soon), her husband an honest citizen, young and goodly and of good substance. But forasmuch as they were coupled before she were well ripe, she not very fervently loved for whom she never longed. Which was perchance the thing that more easily made her incline unto the King's appetite when he required her. However, the respect of his royalty, the hope of gay apparel, ease, pleasure and other wanton wealth was soon able to pierce a soft tender heart. But when the King had abused her, at once her husband (as he was an honest man and one that could know his own good, not presuming to touch a King's concubine) left her up to him all together. When the King died, the Lord Chamberlain took her, who in the King's days, although he was sore enamored upon her, yet he endured her absence, either for reverence or for a certain friendly faithfulness.

Attractive she was and fair; nothing in her body that you would have changed, but if you would, you might have wished her somewhat higher. Thus say they that knew her in her youth. Although some that now see her (for yet she lives) judge her never to have been a beauty, whose judgment seems to me somewhat as though men should guess the beauty of one long before departed by her scalp taken out of a house for the dead; for now is she old, lean, withered and dried up, nothing left but wrinkled skin and hard bone. And yet, being even such, whosoever well observed her appearance might guess and devise which parts, how filled, would make it a fair face.

Yet she delighted not men so much in her beauty as in her pleasant behavior. For a proper wit had she, and could both read well and write, merry in company, ready and quick of answer, neither mute nor full of babble, sometimes taunting without displeasure, and not without play.

The King would say that he had three concubines in whom three diverse qualities differently excelled: one the merriest; another the wiliest; the third the holiest harlot in his realm, as one whom no man could get out of the church lightly to any place, but it were to his bed. The other two were somewhat greater personages, and, despite their humility, remained content to be nameless and to forego the praise of their qualities. But the merriest was this Shore's wife, in whom the King therefore took special pleasure. For many he had, but her he loved, whose favor, to speak truth (for sin it were to belie the devil), she never abused to any man's hurt, but to many a man's comfort and relief: where the King took displeasure, she would mitigate and appease his mind; where men were out of favor, she would bring them in his grace; for many who had highly offended, she obtained pardon; of great forfeitures she got men remission; and finally, in many weighty suits, she stood many men in great stead either for none or very small rewards, and those rather gay than rich-either because she was content with the deed itself well done, or because she delighted to be sued unto and to show what she was able to do with the King, or because wanton and wealthy women be not always covetous.

I doubt not some shall think this woman too slight a thing to be written of and set among the remembrances of great matters, which they shall specially think, that by chance esteem her only by what they now see. But to me seems the change so much the more worthy to be remembered, in how much she is now in the more beggarly condition-without friends and worn out of acquaintance-after good substance, after great favor with the Prince, after great suit and seeking to by all those that those days had business to speed, as many other men were in their times, who be now famous only by the infamy of their ill deeds. Her doings were not much less, although they be much less remembered because they were not so evil. For men use, if they have an evil turn, to write it in marble; and whosoever does us a good turn, we write it in dust, which is not worst proved by her, for at this day she begs of many at this day living, that at this day had begged if she had not been.

The History of King Richard the Third by Thomas More. Yet for the further appeasing of the people's mind, he sent immediately after dinner in all the haste, one herald of arms, with a proclamation to be made through the city in the King's name, containing that the Lord Hastings with diverse others of his traitorous purpose had before conspired the same day to have slain the Lord Protector and the Duke of Buckingham while sitting in the Council, and after to have taken upon them to rule the King and the realm at their pleasure, and thereby to pillage and spoil whom they pleased, uncontrolled. And much matter was there in the proclamation devised to the slander of the Lord Chamberlain, as that he was an evil counselor to the King's father, enticing him to many things highly redounding to the diminishing of his honor and to the universal hurt of his realm, by his evil company, sinister procuring, and ungracious example, as well in many other things, as in the vicious living and inordinate misuse of his body, both with many others, and also especially with Shore's wife - who was one also of his most secret counsel in this heinous treason, with whom he lay nightly, and, namely, the night last past before his death-so that it was the less marvel if ungracious living brought him to an unhappy ending, which he was now put unto, by the most dread commandment of the King's Highness and of his honorable and faithful Council, both for his demerits, being so openly taken in his falsely conceived treason, and also lest the delaying of his execution might have encouraged other mischievous persons and partners of his conspiracy to gather and assemble themselves together in making some great commotion for his deliverance; whose hope now being by his well deserved death prudently repressed, all the realm should by God's grace rest in good quiet and peace.

Now was this proclamation made within two hours after he was beheaded, and it was so curiously composed and so fair written in parchment in so well a set hand, and therewith of itself so long a process, that every child might well perceive that it was prepared before. For all the time between his death and the proclaiming could scant have sufficed unto the bare writing alone, had it all been but in paper and scribbled forth in haste at random. So that upon the proclaiming thereof, one that was schoolmaster of Paul's, who was by chance standing by and comparing the shortness of the time with the length of the matter, said unto them that stood about him, "Here is a gay goodly cast, foul cast away for haste." And a merchant answered him that it was written by prophecy.

The History of King Richard the Third by Thomas More. And therefore he, fearing lest their motions might with the Lord Hastings diminish his credibility, whereunto only all the matter leaned, procured the Protector hastily to get rid of him. And much the rather, for that he trusted by his death to obtain much of the rule that the Lord Hastings bore in his country, the only desire whereof was the enticement that induced him to be partner and one special contriver of all this horrible treason.

Whereupon soon after, that is to wit, on the Friday, the thirteenth day of June, many lords assembled in the Tower, and there sat in Council, devising the honorable solemnity of the King's coronation, of which the time appointed so near approached that the pageants and subtleties were in making day and night at Westminster, and much victual killed therefore that afterwards was cast away. These lords so sitting together speaking of this matter, the Protector came in among them, first about nine of the clock, saluting them courteously, and excusing himself that he had been from them so long, saying merrily that he had been asleep that day. And after a little talking with them, he said unto the Bishop of Ely: "My Lord, you have very good strawberries at your garden in Holborn, I require you, let us have a mess of them."

"Gladly, my Lord," said he. "Would God I had some better thing as ready to your pleasure as that." And therewith in all the haste he sent his servant for a mess of strawberries.

The Protector set the lords fast in talking, and thereupon praying them to spare him for a little while, departed thence. And soon after one hour, between ten and eleven, he returned into the chamber among them, all changed with a wonderful sour, angry countenance, knitting the brows, frowning and frothing and gnawing on his lips, and so sat him down in his place, all the lords much dismayed and sore marveling of this manner of sudden change, and what thing should him ail. Then when he had sat still awhile, thus he began: "What were they worthy to have that plan and imagine the destruction of me, being so near of blood unto the King, and Protector of his royal person and his realm?"

Note A. this question, all the lords sat astonished, musing much by whom this question should be meant, of which every man knew himself clear. Then the Lord Chamberlain, as he that for the love between them thought he might be boldest with him, answered and said that they were worthy to be punished as heinous traitors, whosoever they were. And all the others affirmed the same.

"That is," said he, "yonder sorceress, my brother's wife, and others with her," meaning the Queen.

Note A. these words many of the other lords were greatly abashed that favored her. But the Lord Hastings was in his mind better content that it was caused by her than by any other whom he loved better; although his heart somewhat grudged that he was not before made of counsel in this matter, as he was of the taking of her kindred and of their putting to death, which were by his assent before devised to be beheaded at Pomfret this selfsame day, in which he was not aware that it was by others devised that he himself should the same day be beheaded at London.

Then said the Protector: "You shall all see in what way that sorceress and that other witch of her counsel, Shore's wife, with their affinity, have by their sorcery and witchcraft wasted my body." And therewith, he plucked up his doublet sleeve to his elbow upon his left arm, where he showed a shriveled, withered and small arm-as if it were ever otherwise. And thereupon every man's mind sore misgave them, well perceiving that this matter was but a quarrel, for well they knew that the Queen was too wise to go about any such folly. And also if she would, yet would she of all folk least make Shore's wife of council, whom of all women she most hated, as that concubine whom the King her husband had most loved. And also no man was there present but well knew that the Protector's arm was ever such since his birth.

Nevertheless the Lord Chamberlain (which from the death of King Edward kept Shore's wife, on whom he somewhat doted in the King's life, he saving his affection, as it is said, during that time and resisting her out of reverence toward his King, or else of a certain kind of fidelity to his friend) answered and said: "Certainly, my Lord, if they have so heinously done, they be worthy heinous punishment."

"What?!" said the Protector. "Thou serve me, I know, with 'ifs' and with 'ands.' I tell thee they have so done, and that I will make good on thy body, traitor." And therewith as in a great anger, he clapped his fist upon the table a great rap. At which token given, one cried treason outside the chamber. Therewith a door slammed, and in come there rushing men in armor, as many as the chamber might hold. And at once the Protector said to the Lord Hastings: "I arrest thee, traitor."

"What me, my Lord?" said he.

"Yea, thee, traitor," said the Protector.

And another let fly at the Lord Stanley, who shrunk at the stroke and fell under the table, or else his head had been cleft to the teeth; for as shortly as he shrank, yet ran the blood about his ears. Then were they all quickly bestowed in diverse chambers, except the Lord Chamberlain, whom the Protector bade speed and shrive him at once, "for by Saint Paul," said he, "I will not to dinner till I see thy head off." It remedied him not to ask why, but heavily he took a priest at random and made a short confession, for a longer one would not be suffered, the Protector made so much haste to dinner, which he might not go to till this were done for the saving of his oath. So was he brought forth into the green beside the chapel within the Tower, and his head laid down upon a long log of timber, and there stricken off, and afterward his body with the head interred at Windsor beside the body of King Edward, both of whose souls our Lord pardon. A marvelous case is it to hear either the warnings of what he should have avoided or the tokens of that he could not avoid. For the same night next before his death, the Lord Stanley sent a trusty secret messenger unto him at midnight in all the haste, requiring him to rise and ride away with him, for he was disposed utterly no longer to remain at home, he had so fearful a dream, in which he thought that a boar with his tusks so slashed them both by the heads that the blood ran about both their shoulders. And forasmuch as the Protector gave the boar for his coat of arms, this dream made so fearful an impression in his heart that he was thoroughly determined no longer to tarry, but had his horse ready, if the Lord Hastings would go with him to ride so far yet the same night, that they should be out of danger before day.

"Ay, good Lord," said the Lord Hastings to this messenger, "leans my Lord thy master so much to such trifles and has such faith in dreams, which either his own fear fancies or do rise in the night's rest by reason of his day thoughts? Tell him it is plain witchcraft to believe in such dreams, which, if they were tokens of things to come, why thinks he not that we might be as likely to make them true by our going if we were caught and brought back (as friends fail those who flee), for then had the boar a cause likely to slash us with his tusks, as folk that fled for some falsehood; wherefore, either is there no peril, nor none there is indeed; or if any be, it is rather in going than abiding. And if we must fall in peril one way or other, yet had I rather that men should see it were by other men's falsehood than think it were either our own fault or faint heart. And therefore go to thy master, man, and commend me to him, and pray him be merry and have no fear, for I assure him I am as sure of the man that he knows of, as I am of my own hand."

"God send grace, sir," said the messenger, and went his way.

Certain is it also, that in the riding toward the Tower, the same morning in which he was beheaded, his horse twice or thrice stumbled with him almost to the falling, which thing, although each man knows well daily happens to them to whom no such mischance is aimed, yet has it been of an old rite and custom observed as a token oftentimes notably foregoing some great misfortune.

Now this that follows was no warning, but an enemy's scorn. The same morning before he were up, came a knight unto him, as it were of courtesy to accompany him to the Council, but of truth sent by the Protector to haste him thitherward, with whom he was of secret confederacy in that purpose, a mean man at that time, and now of great authority. This knight, when it happened that the Lord Chamberlain by the way to stay his horse and talk awhile with a priest whom he met in the Tower Street, revealed his tale and said merrily to him: "What, my Lord, I pray you, come on; whereto talk you so long with that priest? You have no need of a priest yet." And therewith he laughed upon him, as though he would say, "You shall have soon." But so little knew the other what he meant, and so little mistrusted, that he was never merrier nor never so full of good hope in his life, which is the very thing often seen a sign of change. But I shall rather let anything pass me than the vain security of a man's mind so near his death.