The Mirror for Magistrates :: :: University of Virginia Library

Among the ryders of the rollyng wheele,
That lost theyr holdes, Baldwin forget not me,
whose fatall threede false Fortune nedes would reele,
Ere it were twysted by the systers three.
All folke be frayle, theyr blysses brittle bee:
For proofe whereof although none other wer,
Suffyse may I, syr Roger Mortimer.

Not he that was in Edwardes dayes the thyrde,
Whom Fortune brought to boote and efte to bale,
With loue of whom the kyng so muche she sturde,
That none but he was heard in any tale:
And whyles she smooth, blewe on this merye gale,
He was created earle of Marche, alas,
Whence envy sprang whiche his destruction was.

For welth bredeth wrath, in suche as welth do want,
And pryde with folly in suche as it possesse,
Among a thousande shall you fynde hym skant,
That can in welth his loftye harte represse,
Whiche in this Erle due proofe did playne expresse,
For where he sumwhat hauty was before,
His hygh degree hath made hym nowe muche more.

For nowe alone he ruleth as him lust,
Ne recketh for rede, save of kyng Edwardes mother:
Whiche forced envy foulder out the rust,
That in mens hartes before dyd lye and smother.
The Piers, the people, as well the one as the other,
Agaynst hym made so haynous a complaynt,
That for a traytour he was taken and attaynt.

Then all suche faultes as were forgot before,
The skower afresh, and sumwhat to them ad:
For cruell envy hath eloquence in store,
whan Fortune byds, to warsse thinges meanely bad.

Fyue haynous crymes agaynst hym soone were had,
Fyrst, that he causde the kyng to yelde the Skot,
To make a peace, townes that were from him got:

And therewithall the charter called Ragman.
That of the Skots he bribed pryuy gayne,
That through his meanes syr Edward of Carnaruan
In Barkley castell trayterously was slayne:
That with his princes mother he had layne.
And fynally with pollyng at his pleasure,
Had robde the kyng and commons of theyr treasure.

For these thynges loe whiche erst were out of minde
He was condemned, and hanged at the last,
In whom dame Fortune fully shewed her kynde,
For whom she heaves, she hurleth downe as fast:
If men to cum would learne by other past,
This cosen of myne myght cause them set asyde,
High clymyng, brybyng, murdring, lust, and pryde.

The fynall cause why I this processe tell,
Is that I may be knowen from this other,
My lyke in name, vnlyke me though he fell,
Whiche was I thinke my graund sier or his brother:

To counte my kyn, dame Philip was my mother,
Deare doughter and heyre of douty Lyonell,
The seconde sonne of a kyng that dyd excell.

My father hyght syr Edmunde Mortimer,
True erle of Marche, whence I was after erle
By iust discent, these two my parentes wer,
Of whiche the one of knighthoode bare the ferle,
Of womanhoode the other was the perle:
Throughe theyr deserte so called of euery wight,
Tyll death them tooke, and left in me theyr ryght.

For why the attaynder of my elder Roger,
(whose shamefull death I tolde you but of late)
was founde to be vniust, and passed ouer
Agaynst the lawe, by those that bare hym hate.
For where by lawe the lowest of free estate
Should personally be heard ere iudgement passe,
They barred hym this, where through distroyed he was.

wherfore by doome of courte in parlyament,
whan we had proued our cosen ordred thus,
The Kyng, the Lordes, the Commens of assent,
His lawles death vnlawfull dyd discus:
And both to blood and good restored vs.
A Presydent most worthy, shewed, and left
Lordes lyues to saue that lawles might be reft.

whyle Fortune thus dyd furder me amayne
Kyng Rychardes grace the seconde of the name
(whose dissolute lyfe dyd soone abridge his rayne)
Made me his mate in earnest and in game:
The Lordes them selues so well allowed the same,
That throwe my tytles duely cummyng downe,
I was made heyre apparaunt to the crowne.

who then but I was euery where estemed?
well was the man that myght with me acquaynte,
whom I allowed, as Lordes the people demed.
To what so euer folly had me bente,
To lyke it well the people dyd assente:
To me as prince, attended great and small,
In hope a daye would cum to paye for all.

But seldome ioye continueth trouble voyde,
In greatest charge cares greatest do ensue,
The most possest are ever most anoyed,
In largest seas sore tempestes lyghtly brue,
The fresshest colours soonest fade the hue,
In thyckest place is made the depest wounde,
True proofe wherof my selfe to soone haue founde.

For whyles that Fortune lulde me in her lap,
And gaue me gyftes mo than I dyd requyre,
The subtyll quean behynde me set a trap,
whereby to dashe and laye all in the myre:
The Iryshe men against me dyd conspyre,
My landes of Vlster fro me to haue reft,
whiche herytage my mother had me left.

And whyles I there, to set all thinges in stay,
(Omyt my toyles and troubles thitherwarde)
Among myne owne with my retinue lay,
The wylder men whom lytell I dyd regarde,
And had therefore the recheles mans rewarde:
When least I thought set on me in suche number,
That fro my corps my lyfe they rent a sunder.

Nought myght auayle my courage nor my force,
Nor strength of men whiche were alas to fewe:
The cruell folke assaulted so my horse,
That all my helpes in pieces they to hewe,
Our blood distayned the grounde as drops of dewe,
Nought myght preuayle to flee nor yet to yelde,
For whom they take they murdre in the fyelde.

They know no lawe of armes nor none wil lerne:
They make not warre (as other do) a playe,
The lorde, the boye, the Galloglas, the kerne,
Yelde or not yelde, whom so they take they slay,
They save no prysoners, for raunsom nor for pay:
Theyr chiefest boote they counte theyr bodohs heade,
Theyr ende of warre to see theyr enmye deade.

Amongest these men or rather savage beastes,
I lost my lyfe, by cruell murder slaine.
And therfore Baldwin note thou well my geastes,
And warne all princes rashnes to refraine:
Bid them beware their enmies when they faine,
Nor yet presume vnequally to strive,
Had I thus done, I had ben man alive.

But I dispysed the naked Iryshmen,
And for they flewe, I feared them the lesse:
I thought one man ynough to matche with ten,
And through this careles vnadvisednesse,
I was destroyed, and all my men I gesse,
At vnawares assaulted by our foen,
Whiche were in numbre fourty to vs one.

Se here the staye of fortunate estate,
The vayne assuraunce of this britell lyfe,
For I but yong, proclaymed prince of late,
Right fortunate in children and in wife,
Lost all at once by stroke of bloody knife:
Wherby assurde let men them selues assure,
That welth and lyfe are doubtfull to endure.