HISTORY OF KING HENRY VII.
and was never cruel when he was secure ; now he saw the danger was past, pardoned them all in the end, except some few desperate persons, [ which he reserved to he executed, the better to | set off his mercy towards the rest. There were also sent with all speed some horse to Saint Michael s mount in Cornwall, where the Lady Catharine Gordon was left by her husband, whom in all fortunes she entirely loved ; adding the virtues of a wife to the virtues of her sex. The king sent in the greater diligence, not knowing whether she might be with child, whereby the business would not have ended in Perkin s per son. When she was brought to the king, it was commonly said, that the king received her not only with compassion, but with affection ; pity giving more impression to her excellent beauty. Wherefore comforting her, to serve as well his eye as his fame, he sent her to his queen to remain with her; giving her very honourable allowance for the support of her estate, which she enjoyed both during the king s life, and many years after. The name of the white-rose, which had been given to her husband s false title, was continued in common speech to her true beauty. The king went forwards on his journey, and made a joyful entrance into Exeter, where he gave the citizens great commendations and thanks; and taking the sword he wore from his side, he gave it to the mayor, and commanded it should be ever after carried before him. There also he caused to be executed some of the ringleaders of the Cornish men, in sacrifice to the citizens whom they had put in fear and trouble. At Exeter the king consulted with his council, whether he should offer life to Perkin if he would quit the sanctuary, and voluntarily submit himself. The council were divided in opinion : some advised the king to take him out of sanctuary perforce, and to put him to death, as in a case of necessity, which in itself dispenseth with consecrated places and things : wherein they doubted not also but the king should find the pope tractable to ratify his deed, either by declaration, or, at least, by in dulgence. Others were of opinion, since all was now safe, and no further hurt could be done, that it was not worth the exposing of the king to new scandal and envy. A third sort fell upon the opinion, that it was not possible for the king ever, either to satisfy the world well touching the im posture, or to learn out the bottom of the conspi racy, except by promise of life and pardon, and other fair means, he should get Perkin into his hands. But they did all in their preambles much bemoan the king s case, with a kind of indigna tion at his fortunes; that a prince of his high wi* : om and virtue should have been so long and so oft exercised and vexed with idols. But the kiiiLT said, that it was the vexation of God Al mighty himself to be vexed with idols, and there- lore that that was not to trouble any of his friends ; and that for himself, he always despised them; but was grieved that they had put his propl.- to such trouble and misery, lint in conclii-ion. he leaned to the third opinion, and so sent >ini i<j deal with Perkin, who seeing himself prisoner, and destitute of all hopes, having tried princes and people, great and small, and found all either false, faint, or unfortunate, did gladly accept of the condition. The king did also, while he was at Exeter, appoint the Lord Darcy, and others commissioners, for the fining of all such as were of any value, and had any hand or partaking in the aid or comfort of Perkin, or the Cornish men, either in the field or in the flight. These commissioners proceeded with such strictness and severity as did much obscure the king s mercy in sparing of blood, with the bleed ing of so much treasure. Perkin was brought unto the king s court, but not to the king s pre sence; though the king, to satisfy his curiosity, saw him sometimes out of a window, or in pas sage. He was in show at liberty, but guarded with all care and watch that was possible, and willed to follow the king to London. But from his first appearance upon the stage, in his new person of a sycophant, or juggler, instead of his former person of a prince, all men may think how he was exposed to the derision not only of the courtiers, but also of the common people, who flocked about him as he went along: that one might know afar off where the owl was by the flight of birds; some mocking, some wonder ing, some cursing, some prying and picking mat ter out of his countenance and gesture to talk of: so that the false honour and respects which he had so long enjoyed, was plentifully repaid in scorn and contempt. As soon as he was come to London, the king gave also the city the solace of this May-game; for he was conveyed leisurely on horseback, but not in any ignominious fashion, through Cheapside and Cornhill, to the Tower- and from thence back again to Westminster, with the churm of a thousand taunts and reproaches. But to amend the show, there followed a little distance off Perkin, an inward counsellor of his, one that had been sergeant-farrier to the king. This fellow, when Perkin took sanctuary, chose rather to take a holy habit than a holy place, and clad himself like a hermit, and in that weed wandered about the country, till he was discovered and taken. But this man was bound hand and foot upon the horse, and came not back with Perkin, but was left at the Tower, and within few days after executed. Soon after, now that Perkin could tell better what himself was, he was diligently examined ; and after his confession taken, an extract was made of such parts of them 1 as were thought fit to be divulged, which wa a printed and dispersed abroad ; wherein the king ! did himself no right; for as there was a laboured tale of particulars, of Perkin s father and moth??,
