1577 > Volume 3 > Body Text: Section 4 of 4: The thirde Booke of the Hiſtorie of Ireland, compriſing the raigne of Henry the eyght: continued by Richard Stanihurſt, and vvritten to the right honorable Sir Henrie Sidney Knight, Lord Deputie of Ireland, Lord preſident of VVales, Knight of the moſt noble order of the Garter, and one of hir Maieſties priue Counſayle within hir Realme of Englande.
Snippet: 125 of 344 (1577, Volume 3, p. 78)

[1]

King Henrie is knowne to bee in theſe our dayes ſo puiſſant a Prince, and ſo victorious a woorthie, that he is able to conquere foreyne do|minions: and thinke you, that he cannot defend his owne? He tameth kings, and iudge you that he may not rule his owne ſubiectes? Suppoſe you conquere the lande, doe you ymagine that hee will not recouer it? Therefore my Lorde, flatter not your ſelfe ouer muche, repoſe not ſo great affiance either in your troupe of horſmen, or in your bande of footmen, or in the multitude [page 88] of your partakers. What face ſoeuer they put now on the matter, or what ſucceſſe ſoeuer for a ſeaſon they haue, bycauſe it is eaſie for an army to vanquiſh them that doe not reſiſt, yet hereaf|ter when the king ſhall ſend his power into this Countrey, you ſhall ſee your adherents like ſlip|per chaungelings plucke in theyr hornes, and ſuch as were cõtent, to beare you vp by the chin, as long as you coulde ſwim, when they eſpie you ſinke, they will by little and little ſhrinke from you, and percaſe will ducke you ouer head and eares. As long as the gale puffeth full in your ſayles, doubt not but diuerſe wil anerre vn|to you, and feede on you, as Crowes on carion. But if any ſtorme happen to bluſter, then will they be ſure to leaue you poſt alone ſticking in the myre or ſands, hauing leaſt helpe, when you haue moſt neede. And what will then enſue of this. The braunches will be pardoned, the roote apprehended, your honour diſteyned, your houſe attainted, your armes reuerſed, your Ma|nours razed, your doings examined, at whiche time God knoweth, what an heartburning it will be, when that with no colour may bee de|nied, which without ſhame cannot be confeſſed. My Lorde I poure not out Oracles as a ſooth|ſayer, for I am neyther a Prophet, nor the ſonne of a Prophete.Caſsandraes prophecie. But it may be, that I am ſome frãtique Caſſandra being partner of hir ſpirit in foretelling the truth, and partaker of hir miſfor|tune, in that I am not when I tell the truth be|leeued of your Lordſhip, whome God defende from being Priamus.