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The life of Cardinal Wolsey

By George Cavendish, his gentleman usher. And metrical visions, from the original autograph manuscript. With notes and other illustrations, by Samuel Weller Singer

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103

L'AUCTOR G. C.

Thus havyng just cause on dyvers thyngs to wonder,
Wayeng within myself the soden chaunce and fall
Of pryncely magestrates whom fortune hath brought under,
Chayngyng ther swetnes unto bitter gall,
Havyng no respect to great ne yet to small;
Thys all men knowyth that hath bothe wytt and reason,
That fortunes fayned favors lastithe but a season.
Thus syttyng in a dompe, sodenly came in
Oon with visage sade and pale as any lead,
Inwardly pensyve complaynyng of his kynne,
Who was condempned for to loose his hed;
Hymselfe to defend he knew non other stede,
But paciently to suffer as fortune shold provide,
The crueltie of theme that shold have byn his gwyde.

104

LORD SEYMOUR.

Sometyme Lord Seymour I was, and uncle to a kyng,
Allthoughe (quod he) onworthy to so highe a name,
Yet did his grace encrease so my lyvyng;
To my highe honor and perpetual fame,
I maried the quene by means of the same,
Who was wyfe to Kyng Herre my soverayn lord,
Wherat some disdayned and greatly did remord.
They grudged, they groned, and fret very sore,
They fumed, they fomed, fantazyng what way
They myght me dispatche and distroy for ever more;
Ther purpose cloos wrought, which they did delay
Untill they brought abought my utter dekay;
Procured by a woman, as all the world sayethe,
No malice lyke thers, who it justly wayethe.
O ingrate, (quod he) O kyn onkynd, alas!
Ayenst all nature thus to be unkynd;

105

All the world abhorrethe to see it brought to passe,
Nature to repugne that often is full blynd;
Yt grudgythe myche more every honest mynd
Than it did the Romans whan Nero slewe his mother,
A fact as onnatural oon brother to slee another.
Nature, alas! to disdayn ayenst natures newe estate,
Where nature shold rejoyce, there nature to repyne;
Yt nedes must cause nature to thynk it onnaturate,
To cause his owen nature from nature to declyne,
Thorowghe ambycyous disdayn so miserably to fyne:
Alas! that brother ayenst brother such vengeaunce shold procure;
Can there be more vengeaunce?—no! I make you sewre.
I allwayes ment justly! Lord, be thou my juge,
Entendyng no man hurt, nother in word or deede;
My soverayn lord, who was my cheafe refuge,
I loved and obeyed, as nature did me leade;
Yet, that notwithstandyng, ayenst me they did procede,
Not havyng to justice or nature any respecte,
But onjustly ayenst nature did me thus detecte.

106

I deamed all treuthe to be in my brother,
Supposyng that he had byn so to me,
Perceyvyng non occasyon, I sawe in hyme non other
But brotherly love, void of all duplicitie;
But who, alas! did ever heare or se,
Or who did ever in any story fynd
Blood unto blood to be more onkynd?
As a brother shold, I put in hyme my trust,
And trusted hym ever in hart, wyll, and thought;
For by his countenaunce non other cause I wyst,
And of any malice I mystrusted hyme nought,
That ever he cowld so false a thyng have wroughte;
But who may sooner another man disseyve
Than he in whome no malice we conseyve?
My brother surmysed and toke a wrong occasion
To condempn me of treason, onjustly for to fayn,
A matter ayenst right to bryng me to confusion,
The whiche he conceyved of hatred and disdayn,
Ayenst me affirmyng in very certeyn,
That I ayenst trouthe and myn allegeaunce,
Wold of my soverayn have the sole governaunce.

107

The which was surmysed of pretenced malice,
Hyme self well knowyng it was not so;
Yet ayenst concyence he did my death devyse,
Not lyke a brother, but like a cruel foo;
And, to thencrease of my mortall woo,
In short processe by crafty invencion,
He imagyned my death and my distruccion.
Whos oonly purpose kyndeled was by covetise
Thys realme to rewle, cheafe cause of his disdayn;
And yet myght the governaunce, truly to devyse,
Have byn governed by us bretherne twayn,
The better for our sewerties and lesse to our payn;
Howbeit he dispatched me and brought to distruccion,
Hymself allonly to have therof proteccion?
This falce conspiracy was not wrought alon
By my oonly brother, without the helpe of other,
Which in my way hathe cast this mortal bone;
Yt was the Erle of Warwyke, it was non other,
That to my deathe procured hathe my brother,

108

By whos consent hathe brought me to thys end,
Which at his most nede myghte have byn his frend.
The very ground and cause was of my distres
The sayd Erle of Warwyke, thoonly sours and well,
And cheafe inventor of all this falcenes,
Who in craft and falshod all others did precell,
As all the world can beare me wytnes well,

109

Whome I supposed of my deathe to be innocent;
But suerly it was he, and that he may repent.
This whyly Beare that intended to devoure
Me sely lambe, onprovided for defence,
Not sekyng any helpe myselfe for to socoure,
I was so innocent to make any resistence,
Mysdeemyng non falcehed, mystrustyng non offence;
What wonder was it, the frawde not conceyved,
Thoughe I beyng innocent onwarely was dysseyved?
Allthoughe my greafe be great, as nedes it must,
Yet somethyng it is releafed whan I inwardly remember
The deathe of the Quene, that now lyeth in the dust,
For in this world she myghte have lyved longer;
Hir deadly sorrowes shold have byn not full slender;
Whos deyntie dolower wold myche encrease my payn,
When I the teares shold se from hir face derayn.
But blessed is she that thus is now depryved
The paynful cares of this tempestious skie,

110

Whos alterasion the origynal is deryved
From onstedfastnes and sodayne mutabylitie;
Therfore I nedes must say that blessed nowe is she,
Synce she is delyverd of this my desolacion,
Which wold have chaynged hir joy to lamentacion.
I thought to myn answere I shold be forthe brought,
Where that my trouthe myght justly have beene tried,
And proved all thyng vayn which ayenst me was wrought:
But whan they consulted and had well espied
That ther accusacions myght lawfully byn denyed,
Than without answere condempned I was to dye;
Yf the lawe be suche, than justice I defie.
But whan their purpose was fully resolved,
Be it right or wrong, malice wold geve no place;
For right was sett aside and trew justice desolved;
Say what I wold and still defend my case,

111

My deathe was determyned before any trespace;
That nedes I must dye do what I can;
Yt boted me not to requyer justice than.
Ther malice was great, it apperithe by ther facts,
After dethe to slaunder me and cause falce report,
Ye may se it playn in ther parliament acts;
And yet not content, but a preacher they did exhort
Opynly in a pulpit byfore a noble sort
To accuse me of thyngs to all men onknowen:
Was it mete for a precher such slander to beblown?

112

O Precher! what moved the, me to defame?
Was it thyn office, or was it thy profession,
To applie Goddis scripture to the slaunder of my name?
Are not ye therfore brought to confusion?
You may se, howe God wyll in conclusion
All suche punyshe that slander invents;
Therfore preache no slaunder of innocents.
Innocent I was of any cryme or offence
That myn ennemyes ayenst me cowld prove;
Therfore death here I take uppon the pretence,
And to that just Judge sytting in hevyn above
I commytt my cause, that the tender love
He bare to mankynd whan he suffred passion;
Have mercy uppon me and grant me clear remyssion.

113

TH'AUCTOR G. C.

With that I stept uppe and wold have gone my wayes.
Nay, not so soon, to me than sayd an other,
For I am come to complayn my fall and my dekayes:
He that last departed hence was my very brother;
Our father Sir John Seymour, and borne of oon mother:
Alas! I was the causer of his death, craftely surmysed;
An act as unnatural as cowld be devysed.
Wherfore, I pray the, wright my complaynt;
And spare me not, for I woll tell the duly.
Alas! (quod I) my hart nowe waxith faynt

114

With sittyng so long, I tell the truly,
Heryng complaynts of men so onruly;
Wherefore be short, I pray you, and go your way;
I will wright all thyngs what so ever you say.

THE DUKE OF SOMERSET.

How to complayn, or what sorrows for to make,
Or how to lament (quod he) my woofull chaunce,
I lake teeres sufficient; fortune hathe me forsake,
Whom she heretofore highly did advaunce,
And traced me forth in the pleasaunt dance

115

Of worldly honors and hyghe dignytie,
Havyng no regard to hir mutabilitie.
O mortal lyfe! O momentary estate!
O deathe oncertayn, and yet no thyng more suer!
O honor and renowne, whos suertie hath no date,
So that in this world no thyng may endure!
The prove in me ye may playnly se the ure,
For late I was a duke of high renowne,
Whome fortune hathe full low brought down.
I clame aloft and mounted uppe the stage
Of honorable estate to be a noble peere,
But fykkyll fortune in hir cruel rage
Of very dispyght, hath thrust me from hir speere,
She is nowe fled and will no more come neere;
Thus ame I lefte alone in an woofull case;
In worldly felicitie I fynd but littil grace.
With great presumcion, whan the king was gon,
And passed the passage of this oncertyn lyfe,
To be than the Protector I presumed to it anon,

116

And banyshed all them that had prerogatyfe,
By his pryncely will, to avoyd all stryfe,
And the lawes of this realme which he made of equitie,
I changed and made new with great extremytie.
I, thought for my wytt mete to be a juge,
All other to precell in wysdome and discression;
Yet, by comparison, in wytt I was a druge,
For if wysdom had had of me any possession,
I shold have considered for to reule a region
Was a greater matter than my wytt cold comprehend;
I was but a fool, and so it proved in the end.
Yf reason had rewled me, or wysdom had place,
I wold not have meddeled, not mete for my capacitie,

117

But ordered all thyngs by the wyll of the kyngs grace,
As he left them in writyng for a perfect memorye,
And to preserve thes laws which ware of auctoritie,
That the kyng had made for the preservacion
Of this his realme and his sonnes educasion.
Alas! yong prynce, thou reygnedest lyke a kyng,
Thou barest the name, but I rewled all by wyll,
And bare a kyngly port in every manner thyng;
I presumed on thy name whan I wold fullfill
My covetous appetyte, owther in good or yll;
Thoughe he ware kyng, and bare therof the name,
I had the gaynes, wherin I was to blame.
Sewrly a Protector shold in every thyng
Defend the realme from warre and debate,
And mantayn thos forts which Herre our kyng,
Whan his owen persone in his royale estate,
Leavyng them to his sonne after that rate,
Which I suffred to be lost for lake of defence,
That owght to be defended with my personal presence.
I mynyshed his houshold and his regal port,
I consumed hys treasure, I abated his possessions,

118

I banyshed all men that ware not of my sort,
I esteemed no gentlemen of auncient conditions,
I mayntened the commens to make insurreccions;
I thought in the commons to have suere ayd,
But at my most ned I was of them denayed.
The plage of God must justly on me lyght,
For shedyng of my brothers blood by cruel assent,
Whome I caused to dye of malice and dispight;
Alas! I was to blame to his death for to consent,
Therfore I ame well worthy of thys punishment;

119

For suche ontruthe with like ontruthe again
God will punyshe; the same shall still remayn.
Of all my greves nothyng more grevous
Than to remember my cruel deade,
Which ayenst nature was mere contrarious.

120

O brother, forgeve me, for I stand in great dreade
Of God's indignacion, now at my neade:
Forgeve me, good God, my fact onnaturall;
For mercy and pitie to the I cry and call.
A kyng and his realme I presumed to defend,
That at my most nede cowld not myself preserve:
O blynd asse, whye wold I than pretend
A prynce and his realme royally to conserve,
Supposyng for my worthynes honor to deserve:
Of an auncyent dukedome, to beare the high style,
Twyse I was subdeued; I enjoyed but a whyle.
At last lyke a traytor led to the barre,
There of high treason for to be raygned,
And tried by my peers to make or to marre,
Whome they of justice without favor fayned,
Quyt me therof, wherat some disdayned,
And rayned me agayn of fellony conspired;
Yt was but my deathe that they desired.

121

Well, I was condempned and juged for to dye,
To hang lyke a thiefe; such was than my jugement;
Who hath hard the lyke, or seen with his eye
A duke condempned for a fellonous entent?
Where was no hurt don that they cowld invent:
Howbeit I ame the first that shall in this case,
For others ensample dye without trespase?

122

My tyme is come, and I must nedes suffer
The rigor of the lawes; there is no remedye;
And for my lyfe, it boted not to profer
Gold ne sylver, but dye I must assuredly;
And yet God wot there is no cause whye;
How be it my hed is lost, and I am gone before
My ennemyes may ensewe and repent therfore?

123

LE AUCTOR G. C.

Thend of his complaynt made me for to muse
More than the rest of all his tale byfore;
A duke most shamefully with crueltie to abuse,
And a kyng's uncle, whom they shold have forbore;
But how they durst presume it wonders me therefore:
Howbeit I see God's works which be knowen to none,
For his jugements be secret tyll they be past and gone?
As I loked about and cast my hed aside,
Beyng faynt with travell, and in wofull playnt,
Fower knyghts on a rowe by me I aspied,

124

Desyryng me vouchesalve for to consent
To wright their myshappe whilest they ware present:
Goo to, than, (quod I) and say what ye lyst,
Your sayengs I woll wright, or I desist.
With that I hard a sound and a wonderous noyce,
As though they wold have spoken all at oons,
Whos speeches semed me to be but oon voyce;
They shevered for cold, with bare and naked boons;
Full lamentable was their woofull moons:
They agreed at last, and oon spake first of all;
Thes ware his words, of whom I make rehersall.

125

SIR THOMAS ARONDELL.

Alas! (quod he) some tyme I was a knyght,
Beyng in my contre of great estimation;
By my father Aroundell, evyn so my name hight,
A yonger brother I was by dewe generation,
And with the Cardinal Wollsey was my educasion;
Whos favor brought me first to aboundaunce
Of riches and possessions of great inheritaunce.
Chancellor I was also, onworthy though I ware,
To Katheren Howard, that some tyme was quene;
Such fayned favor than fortune me bare,
That worthy of dignitie she did me esteme;
As I than thought she used me so cleane:
But the quene is dekayed and past this vyle passage,
Which by wanton youthe was brought in dotage.
Yet it was of trouthe I must neds confesse;
Se of privye malice howe God now plagethe me,
Evyn for his cause, whos cause causeles
I was cheafe cause to bryng to calamytie,
Yea God in his jugements a right wyse juge woll be;

126

For though I offendyd not wherein found gyltie,
Yet hathe God punyshed me for my privye envye.
But will you see a wonderous thyng
That God hathe wrought by dyvyn operacion?
Marke nowe, and ye shall here shortly, concludyng:
With the Duke of Northumberland I was in consultacion,
Who bare the Duke of Somerset high indignacion:
I was cheafe councellor in the first overthrowe
Of the Duke of Somerset, which few men dyd know.
Thinke not to escape, ye that do offend,
The punysshment of God for your offence;
He knowyth the secrets that you do pretend,
Thoughe it be wrought with a secret pretence;

127

Ye cannot blynd his dyvyn intellygence;
Therefore ame I punyshed for my conspiracye
Ayenst the innocent with my deadly ennemye.
To be hanged thoughe my jugement ware,
Yet to do me honour they chaynged ther sentence,
And to leese my hed to ease me of my care;
But death was the thyng of all ther pretence
Which they desired; such was ther concyence.
Here I make an end, and I without redresse,
As here ye may se me, a symple body hedlesse.

SIR MICHAEL STANHOPE.

Than came forthe another makyng lyke complaynt,
And sayed he was a knight dobbyd by the kyng,

128

That worthy prynce, that worthy innocent,
Edward the Syxt, virtuous in lyvyng,
As it appered in all his procedyng;
Of whos privye chamber I was without dought,
And nowe condempned and clean cast owt.
Our deathes ware conspyred to satisfie and content
Some persons that thoughte we stode in ther way,
In suche matters which after did repent;
They studyed to compas, both nyght and day,
Ther purpose how they myght by pollicy conveye
To bryng that to passe which they long loked for,
That oons knowen did all honest harts abhorre.
Nowe we be deade and passed thes stormy showers,
Let them alone which wrought us all this woo;
The day wyll come whan they woll the death of owers
Repent full sore; fortune may torne hir purpose soo,
For Fortunes whele tornythe often to and froo:
The experience ye may behold whan we be gon;
Farewell, my frends! hedles I leve you alon.