Great Britain -- History -- Poetry; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 -- Sources
This rule obserued, how many shall wee finde
For vertue’s sake with infamy opprest?
How many[609] againe, through helpe of fortune blinde,
For ill attemptes atchieued, with honour blest?
Successe is worst oftimes whan cause is best:
Therefore, say I, God send them sory haps,
That iudge the causes by their afterclaps.
5.
The end in deede is iudge of euery thing,
Which is the cause or latter poynt of time:
The first true verdict at the first may bring,
The last is slow, or slipper as the slime,
Oft chaunging names of innocence and crime:
Duke _Thomas’_ death was justice two yeares long,
And euer since, sore tyranny and wrong.
6.
Wherefore, I pray thee, _Baldwine_, way the cause,
And prayse my father as hee doth deserue?
Because earle _Henry_, king agaynst all lawes,
Endeuoured king _Richard_ for to starue
In iayle, whereby the regall crowne might swarue
Out of the line to which it than was due,
(Whereby God knowes what euill might ensue.)
7.
My lord _Iohn Holland_, duke of _Excester_,
Which was deare cosin to this wretched king,
Did moue my father, and the earle[610] of _Glocester_,
With other lordes to ponder well the thing:
Who seeing the mischiefe that began to spring,
Did all consent this _Henry_ to depose,
And to restore king _Richard_ to the rose.
8.
And while they did deuise a prety trayne,
Whereby to bring their purpose better[611] about,
Which was in maske this _Henry_ to haue slaine,
The duke of _Aumerle_ blew their counsaile out:
Yet was their purpose good there is no doubt:
What cause can bee more worthy for a knight,
Than saue his king, and helpe true heyres to right?
9.
For this with them my father was destroyde,
And buried in the dunghill of defame:
Thus euill chaunce their glory did auoide,
Whereas theyr cause doth claime eternall fame:
Whan deedes therefore vnluckely doe frame,
Men ought not iudge the aucthors to bee naught,
For right through might is often oueraught.
10.
And God doth suffer that it should bee so,
But why, my wit is feeble to decise,
Except it bee to heape vp wrath[612] and wo
On wicked heades that iniuries deuise:
The cause why mischiefes many times arise,
And light on them that would men’s wronges redresse,
Is for the rancour that they beare, I gesse.
11.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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