Whan he had serched alle, & knew ilk a coste,
His man with þe cardinalle he sent to þe prouoste.
þe prouest mad grete joye for þat ilk sond,
It turnes bot tille þe boþe, if Gode's grace may stond.
þe clerke þat wrote þe lettere to Thomas Turbeuile,
He þouht forto do bettere, þan kyng Edward to gile,
Tille on þat was priue þe kynge's conseiloure,
þe clerk lete him alle se þe dede of þat traytoure.
Whan Thomas was perceyued, his lettres wer away,
þe kynge's courte he weyued, for he dred to deie.
A seruant þer was, þat wist whan Thomas fled,
Fulle sone after Thomas better pas he sped.
Opon þe þrid day, at a toun hamelet,
Thomas was his pray, as he to mete was set.
NOW Thomas taken es, & to London brouht:
Grete was þe wikkednes, þat T. had wrouht.
To þe justisé he said, he wild speke with þe kyng,
Of his traytours neid, to warn him of a þing.
T. þerfor was don to prison eft ageyn,
To þe kyng als son þe sent bode certeyn.
At Malmesbirie þe kyng with his moder was,
Whan him com tiyng of Turbuile Thomas.
He teld þe kyng ilk dele, Thomas wild speke with him,
& warn him he suld wele, whilk wer his traytours grym. [Consilium matris Re|gis.]
¶ His moder Helianore abated þer grete bale.
"Sonne," said scho, "neuer more trowe ȝe traytours tale,
"Suilk traytours als he for hate wille mak a lie,
"þorgh þe whilk mot be vengeance & felonie.
