Your grace, my former pupil and friend,
I write to you with a heavy heart and deep sorrow, beseeching you to remind your former patron and friend who suffers in prison without any hope.
I hear no news and don't know which date we live, I hardly get food and am left to myself, pondering what I did wrong to deserve such a dreadful fate.
I beg you to plead for me to His Majesty to let me return to my Bishopric of York and resume my tasks as the humble servant I have always been to him. I sware I never betrayed him in any way and I never will. My health is deteriorating rapidly and I fear I will not survive another month.
Written on this cold day without any daylight from my cell in the Tower,
Your eternal friend,
Thomas Wulcy