of a king. We Englishmen were but slaves, if, in giving crown and
sceptre to a mortal like ourselves, we asked not in return the kingly
virtues. Beset of old by evil counsellors, the reign of Henry VI. was
obscured, and the weal of the realm endangered. Mine own wrongs
seemed to me great, but the disasters of my country not less. I
deemed that in the race of York, England would know a wiser and
happier rule. What was, in this, mine error, ye partly know. A
prince dissolved in luxurious vices, a nobility degraded by minions
and blood-suckers, a people plundered by purveyors, and a land
disturbed by brawl and riot. But ye know not all: God makes man's
hearth man's altar: our hearths were polluted, our wives and daughters
were viewed as harlots, and lechery ruled the realm. A king's word
should be fast as the pillars of the world. What man ever trusted
Edward and was not deceived? Even now the unknightly liar stands in
arms with the weight of perjury on his soul. In his father's town of
York, ye know that he took, three short weeks since, solemn oath of
fealty to King Henry. And now King Henry is his captive, and King
Henry's holy crown upon his traitor's head. 'Traitors' calls he Us?
What name, then, rank enough for him? Edward gave the promise of a
brave man, and I served him. He proved a base, a false, a licentious,
and a cruel king, and I forsook him; may all free hearts in all free
lands so serve kings when they become tyrants! Ye fight against a
cruel and atrocious usurper, whose bold hand cannot sanctify a black
heart; ye fight not only for King Henry, the meek and the godly,--ye
fight not for him alone, but for his young and princely son, the
grandchild of Henry of Agincourt, who, old men tell me, has that
hero's face, and who, I know, has that hero's frank and royal and
noble soul; ye fight for the freedom of your land, for the honour of
your women, for what is better than any king's cause,--for justice and
mercy, for truth and manhood's virtues against corruption in the laws,