Soone as the sledde drewe nyghe enowe,
    Thatt EDWARDE hee myghte heare, 310
  The brave Syr CHARLES hee dydd stande uppe,
    And thus hys wordes declare: 

  “Thou seest mee, EDWARDE! traytour vile! 
    Expos’d to infamie;
  Butt bee assur’d, disloyall manne! 315
    I’m greaterr nowe thanne thee.

  “Bye foule proceedyngs, murdre, bloude,
    Thou wearest nowe a crowne;
  And hast appoynted mee to dye,
    By power nott thyne owne. 320

  “Thou thynkest I shall dye to-daie;
    I have beene dede ’till nowe,
  And soone shall lyve to weare a crowne
    For aie uponne my browe: 

  “Whylst thou, perhapps, for som few yeares, 325
    Shalt rule thys fickle lande,
  To lett them knowe howe wyde the rule
    ’Twixt kynge and tyrant hande: 

  “Thye pow’r unjust, thou traytour slave! 
    Shall falle onne thye owne hedde”—­ 330
  Fromm out of hearyng of the kynge
    Departed thenne the sledde.

  Kynge EDWARDE’S soule rush’d to hys face,
    Hee turn’d hys hedde awaie,
  And to hys broder GLOUCESTER 335
    Hee thus dydd speke and saie: 

  “To hym that soe-much-dreaded dethe
    Ne ghastlie terrors brynge,
  Beholde the manne! hee spake the truthe,
    Hee’s greater thanne a kynge!” 340

  “Soe lett hym die!” Duke RICHARD sayde;
    “And maye echone oure foes
  Bende downe theyre neckes to bloudie axe,
    And feede the carryon crowes.”

  And nowe the horses gentlie drewe 345
    Syr CHARLES uppe the hyghe hylle;
  The axe dydd glysterr ynne the sunne,
    Hys pretious bloude to spylle.

  Syrr CHARLES dydd uppe the scaffold goe,
    As uppe a gilded carre 350
  Of victorye, bye val’rous chiefs
    Gayn’d ynne the bloudie warre: 

  And to the people hee dydd saie,
    “Beholde you see mee dye,
  For servynge loyally mye kynge, 355
    Mye kynge most rightfullie.

  “As longe as EDWARDE rules thys lande,
    Ne quiet you wylle knowe;
  Youre sonnes and husbandes shalle bee slayne. 
    And brookes wythe bloude shalle flowe. 360

  “You leave youre goode and lawfulle kynge. 
    Whenne ynne adversitye;
  Lyke mee, untoe the true cause stycke,
    And for the true cause dye.”

  Thenne hee, wyth preestes, uponne hys knees, 365
    A pray’r to Godde dydd make,
  Beseechynge hym unto hymselfe
    Hys partynge soule to take.