"case? Or do you think, that men of blood, that "were his instruments, did turn to pity in the midst " of their execution? Whereas in cruel and savage "beasts, and men also, the first draught of blood doth "yet make them more fierce and enraged. Do you “not know, that the bloody executioners of tyrants "do go to such errands with an halter about their "neck; so that if they perform not, they are sure to "die for it? And do you think that these men would "hazard their own lives, for sparing another's? Ad"mit they should have saved him; what should they "have done with him? Turn him into London "streets, that the watchmen, or any passenger that "should light upon him, might carry him before a "justice, and so all come to light? Or should they "have kept him by them secretly? That surely "would have required a great deal of care, charge, "and continual fears. But, my lords, I labour too "much in a clear business. The King is so wise, and "hath so good friends abroad, as now he knoweth duke "Perkin from his cradle. And because he is a great "Prince, if you have any good poet here, he can help "him with notes to write his life; and to parallel him " with Lambert Simnel, now the King's falconer. And "therefore, to speak plainly to your lordships, it is the "strangest thing in the world, that the lady Margaret, "excuse us if we name her, whose malice to the King "is both causeless and endless, should now when she "is old, at the time when other women give over child-bearing, bring forth two such monsters; being "not the births of nine or ten months, but of many years. And whereas other natural mothers bring "forth children weak, and not able to help themselves; "she bringeth forth tall striplings, able soon after "their coming into the world to bid battle to mighty Kings. My lords, we stay unwillingly upon this

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part. We would to God, that lady would once taste "the joys which God Almighty doth serve up unto "her, in beholding her niece to reign in such honour, " and with so much royal issue, which she might be pleased to account as her own. The King's request "unto the archduke, and your lordships, might be;

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"that according to the example of King Charles, who "hath already discarded him, you would banish this "unworthy fellow out of your dominions. But because "the King may justly expect more from an ancient "confederate, than from a new reconciled enemy, he "maketh his request unto you to deliver him up into "his hands: pirates, and impostors of this sort, being "fit to be accounted the common enemies of mankind, and no ways to be protected by the law of "nations.

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After some time of deliberation, the ambassadors received this short answer:

"That the archduke, for the love of King Henry, "would in no sort aid or assist the pretended duke, "but in all things conserve the amity he had with the "King: But for the duchess dowager, she was abso"lute in the lands of her dowry, and that he could "not her let to dispose of her own."

The King, upon the return of the ambassadors, was nothing satisfied with this answer. For well he knew, that a patrimonial dowry carried no part of sovereignty or command of forces. Besides, the ambassadors told him plainly, that they saw the duchess had a great party in the archduke's council; and that howsoever it was carried in a course of connivance, yet the archduke underhand gave aid and furtherance to Perkin. Wherefore, partly out of courage, and partly out of policy, the King forthwith banished all Flemings, as well their persons as their wares, out of his kingdom; commanding his subjects likewise, and by name his merchants adventurers, which had a resiance at Antwerp, to return; translating the mart, which commonly followed the English cloth, unto Calais; and embarred also all farther trade for the future. This the King did, being sensible in point of honour, not to suffer a pretender to the crown of England to affront him so near at hand, and he to keep terms of friendship with the country where he did set up. But he had also a farther reach; for that he knew well, that the subjects of Flanders drew so great commodity from the trade of England, as by this embargo they would soon wax weary of Perkin; and that the tumults of Flanders had been so

late and fresh, as it was no time for the Prince to displease the people. Nevertheless for form's sake, by way of requital, the archduke did likewise banish the English out of Flanders; which in effect was done to his hand.

The King being well advertised, that Perkin did more trust upon friends and partakers within the realm than upon foreign arms, thought it behoved him to apply the remedy where the disease lay: and to proceed with severity against some of the principal conspirators here within the realm; thereby to purge the ill humours in England, and to cool the hopes in Flanders. Wherefore he caused to be apprehended, almost at an instant, John Ratcliffe lord Fitzwalter, Sir Simon Mountfort, Sir Thomas Thwaites, William D'Aubigney, Robert Ratcliffe, Thomas Cressenor, and Thomas Astwood. All these were arraigned, convicted, and condemned for high-treason, in adhering and promising aid to Perkin. Of these the lord Fitzwalter was conveyed to Calais, and there kept in hold, and in hope of life, until soon after, either impatient or betrayed, he dealt with his keeper to have escaped, and thereupon was beheaded. But Sir Simon Mountfort, Robert Ratcliffe, and William D'Aubigney, were beheaded immediately after their condemnation. The rest were pardoned, together with many others, clerks and laics, amongst which were two Dominican friers, and William Worseley dean of Paul's; which latter sort passed examination, but came not to public trial.

The lord chamberlain at that time was not touched; whether it were that the King would not stir too many humours at once, but, after the manner of good physicians, purge the head last; or that Clifford, from whom most of these discoveries came, reserved that piece for his own coming over; signifying only to the King in the mean time, that he doubted there were some greater ones in the business, whereof he would give the King farther account when he came to his presence.

Upon Alhallows-day even, being now the tenth year of the King's reign, the King's second son Henry was created duke of York; and as well the Duke, as divers

others, noblemen, knights-bachelors, and gentlemen of quality, were made knights of the Bath according to the ceremony. Upon the merrow after twelfth-day, the King removed from Westminster, where he had kept his Christmas, to the Tower of London. This he did as soon as he had advertisement that Sir Robert Clifford, in whose bosom or budget most of Perkin's secrets were laid up, was come into England. And the place of the Tower was chosen to that end, that if Clifford should accuse any of the great ones, they might, without suspicion, or noise, or sending abroad of warrants, be presently attached; the court and prison being within the cincture of one wall. After a day or two, the King drew unto him a selected council, and admitted Clifford to his presence; who first fell down at his feet, and in all humble manner craved the King's pardon; which the King then granted, though he were indeed secretly assured of his life before. Then commanded to tell his knowledge, he did amongst many others, of himself, not interrogated, impeach Sir William Stanley, the lord chamberlain of the King's houshold.

The King seemed to be much amazed at the naming of this lord, as if he had heard the news of some strange and fearful prodigy. To hear a man that had done him service of so high a nature, as to save his life, and set the crown upon his head; a man, that enjoyed, by his favour and advancement, so great a fortune both in honour and riches; a man, that was tied unto him in so near a band of alliance, his brother having married the King's mother; and lastly, a man, to whom he had committed the trust of his person, in making him his chamberlain: that this man, no ways disgraced, no ways discontent, no ways put in fear, should be false unto him. Clifford was required to say over again and again, the particulars of his accusation; being warned, that in a matter so unlikely, and that concerned so great a servant of the King's, he should not in any wise go too far. But the King finding that he did sadly and constantly, without hesitation or varying, and with those civil protestations that were fit, stand to that that he had said, offering to justify it upon his soul and life; he caused him to be removed. And after he had not

a little bemoaned himself unto his council there present, gave order that Sir William Stanley should be restrained in his own chamber where he lay before, in the square tower: and the next day he was examined by the lords. Upon his examination he denied little of that wherewith he was charged, nor endeavoured much to excuse or extenuate his fault: so that, not very wisely, thinking to make his offence less by confession, he made it enough for condemnation. It was conceived, that he trusted much to his former merits, and the interest that his brother had in the King. But those helps were over-weighed by divers things that made against him, and were predominant in the King's nature and mind. First, an over-merit; for convenient merit, unto which reward may easily reach, doth best with Kings. Next the sense of his power; for the King thought, that he that could set him up, was the more dangerous to pull him down. Thirdly, the glimmering of a confiscation; for he was the richest subject for value in the kingdom: there being found in his castle of Holt forty thousand marks in ready money and plate, besides jewels, houshold-stuff, stocks upon his grounds, and other personal estate, exceeding great. And for his revenue in land and fee, it was three thousand pounds a year of old rent, a great matter in those times. Lastly, the nature of the time; for if the King had been out of fear of his own estate, it was not unlike he would have spared his life. But the cloud of so great a rebellion hanging over his head, made him work sure. Wherefore after some six weeks distance of time, which the King did honourably interpose, both to give space to his brother's intercession, and to shew to the world that he had a conflict with himself what he should do; he was arraigned of hightreason, and condemned, and presently after beheaded.

Yet is it to this day left but in dark memory, both what the case of this noble person was, for which he suffered; and what likewise was the ground and cause of his defection, and the alienation of his heart from the King. His case was said to be this; That in dis