All those things coming to pass before the abbot died, caused him to have a great esteem of Mother Shipton, and to value her prophecies more than ordinary conjectures; though at first he could not tell what to make of her ambiguous lines, which, like the oracles delivered at Delphos, rather brought one into a labyrinth of confused conjectures than satisfied the expectation, until by the clue of time, the riddles were manifest; and that which at first seemed so hard, now appeared to the understanding as easy; however, he at present kindly thanked Mother Shipton, and liberally rewarded her maid, much admiring that she could be so clear-sighted as to see through his counterfeit dress; resolving afterwards to be more informed by her concerning future events, he at that time took his solemn leave of her, and returned home. Not long had the abbot been at home, but his abbey was visited by some instrument employed by the Lord Cromwell for that purpose. He who knew what was intended by this compliment thought it not safe to strive against the stream, and therefore quietly surrendered his monastery into the king’s hands. And now perceiving Mother Shipton’s prophecies plainly fulfilled in the downfall of those houses, which were judged to be impregnable against all the assaults of malice and time, considering the strange revolution of so short a space, he was very desirous to be more fully informed of the future. In this resolution he repairs again to Mother Shipton, whom he now accosts more familiarly than he did before, making himself plainly known unto her; telling her that as what she had formerly spoken he had found to be true in the event, so his judgment persuaded him she was not ignorant of those things which were in the future to ensue; and therefore desired she would not be nice in imparting her foreknowledge to him; for which great favour, though it were more than his deserts could command, yet should there never in him be wanting a grateful tongue to acknowledge, and a grateful heart to be thankful unto her, for so great a favour. “Mr. Abbot,” said she, “leave off complimenting, as it is more fit for courtiers and lovers, and not agreeable to an old woman, who will neither flatter nor be flattered by any; and for what you came about, I shall not be squeamish to fulfil your request; let me therefore desire you to lend me your attention;” and thereupon, after some short pause, she thus began— “A prince that never shall be born, Shall make the shaved heads forlorn, Then shall commons rise in arms, And woman’s malice cause much harms.” These lines being prophecies of the actions in King Edward’s reign, for the reader’s benefit we will unfold the meaning of them by themselves, that we may not too much burden his memory; but by variety add a pleasure to the reading of them.