"My honest friende, my faulte has beene 145
To serve Godde and mye prynce;
And thatt I no tyme-server am,
My dethe wylle soone convynce.
"Ynne Londonne citye was I borne,
Of parents of grete note; 150
My fadre dydd a nobile armes
Emblazon onne hys cote:
"I make ne doubte butt hee ys gone
Where soone I hope to goe;
Where wee for ever shall bee blest, 155
From oute the reech of woe:
"Hee taughte mee justice and the laws
Wyth pitie to unite;
And eke hee taughte mee howe to knowe
The wronge cause fromm the ryghte: 160
"Hee taughte mee wythe a prudent hande
To feede the hungrie poore,
Ne lett mye sarvants dryve awaie
The hungrie fromme my doore:
"And none can saye, butt alle mye lyfe 165
I have hys wordyes kept;
And summ'd the actyonns of the daie
Eche nyghte before I slept.
"I have a spouse, goe aske of her,
Yff I defyl'd her bedde? 170
I have a kynge, and none can laie
Blacke treason onne my hedde.
"Ynne Lent, and onne the holie eve,
Fromm fleshe I dydd refrayne;
Whie should I thenne appeare dismay'd 175
To leave thys worlde of payne?
"Ne! hapless HENRIE! I rejoyce,
I shalle ne see thye dethe;
Moste willynglie ynne thye just cause
Doe I resign my brethe. 180
"Oh, fickle people! rewyn'd londe!
Thou wylt kenne peace ne moe;
Whyle RICHARD'S sonnes exalt themselves,
Thye brookes wythe bloude wylle flowe.