Through length of time my brother Edward’s ire,
With forged tales hee set him newe in rage,
Till at the last they did my death conspire:
And though my truth sore troubled their desire,
For all the world did knowe mine innocence,
Yet they agreede to charge mee with offence.
51.
And, couertly, within the tower they calde
A quest, to geue such verdite as they should:
Who what with feare and what with fauour thralde,