Mars, Puer, Allecto, Virgo, VULPES, LEO, Nullus.    

THE Court and Character OF King James. Whereunto is now added THE Court of King CHARLES: CONTINUED Unto the beginning of these Unhappy TIMES. With some Observations upon Him in stead of a Character. Collected and perfected by Sir A. W. Qui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare.  
Published by Authority.  
Printed at London by R. I. and are to be sold by J. Collins in Little Britain, 1651.   

To my most Honoured, and truly Noble Lady, the Lady Elizabeth Sidley of South fleet.  
Madam,  
I Here present you with an epitome of some secret Passages, in the whole reign of one King, part of another's: Of which, myself have been either an ear or eyewitness, or, from the testimony of such as have been authors or Actors, therefore unquestionable Truths.  
It is the Conception and Birth of four days, with the help of some scattered Papers (as a Midwife) to bring them into the world.  
Being therefore but an Embryon, you cannot expect any perfect shape: But, what it wants in that, you shall find in the most perfect form of undeniable Truths.  
The honourable esteem I have ever had of you, and your brave Parts, is my first motive of presenting it to your view: That it comes from no ordinary Author (this being the first, and for aught I know the last) a second: That it was written in a melancholy humour, therefore fittest for your melancholy Temper, the last.  
I dare no more trust any other hand to write this than (willingly) any but yourself, or some such good friends to read it.  
Which is the reason it appears no fairer to your view. And it treads too near▪ the heels of truth, and these Times, to appear in public.  
If you shall please to accept of it, as worthy to cast a glance upon at your idle, or melancholy hours, I have my full desires. If cast from you, it hath just Deserts.  
Mine ambition only is, that so Noble a Lady shall be the God mother of the first and only heir, that ever shall come of this quality, from  
Your ladyship's most humble Servant. A. W.   

Upon the author's Discourse and Observations concerning the whole reign of King James, and part of King Charles'.  
REader, here view a Picture of our Times  
Drawn to the life; the foulest secret Crimes  
Discovered, with their Authors: Tricks of State  
To create guilty souls, the people's hate,  
The Prince's fears: Favourites Rise and Fall,  
Greatness debauched, Gentry slighted all  
To please those Favourites, whose highest ends  
Were to exhaust the State, to please their friends.  
View the Isles first Monarch dead, the Seconds breath,  
Prerogatives sole life, the kingdom's death.   

THE Court of King James: OR, A general Discourse of some secret passages in State, since the death of that ever glorious Queen Elizabeth, until this present.  
By the Authors own observation, who was either an eye, or ear witness, or from such as were actors in them, from their own Relation.  
Upon the Twenty fourth of March, 1602. did set the most glorious Sun that ever shined in our Firmament of England (the never to be forgotten Queen Elizabeth, 
Q. E. death▪  of happy memory) about three in the morning, at her manor of Richmond; not only to the unspeakable grief of her Servants in particular, but of all her Subjects in general.  
And although many of her Courtiers adored that rising Sun appearing in the North, yet since, not without regret of their monstrous ingratitude to her (that Sun) now set, and in peace:  
For no sooner was that Sun set▪ but Sir Robert Carew (Her near Kinsman, and whose Family, and himself, she had raised from the degree of a mean Gentleman, to high Honour, in title and place) most ingratefully did catch at Her last breath, to carry it to the rising Sun then in Scotland, notwithstanding a strict Charge laid to keep fast all the Gates, yet (his Father being Lord chamberlain) he by that means found favour to get out, to carry the first news; which although it obtained for him the governorship of the Duke of York, yet hath set so wide a mark of ingratitude on him, that it will remain to Posterity a greater blot, than the honour he obtained afterward will ever wipe out.  
About nine in the morning of that day, was proclaimed King James of blessed memory, 
K. James proclaimed King.  by the name of James the first; and now nothing on all hands, but preparations for accommodating him in his journey for England, many posting into Scotland for preferment, either by endearing themselves by some merit of their own to the King, or by purchasing friends with their purses (Gold and Silver being a precious commodity in that Climate, and would procure any thing) and did procure Suits, Honours, and Offices to any that first came; of all which the King afterward extended his bounty in so large and ample a manner, as procured his own impoverishment, to the pressure of his Subjects, so far as set some distance between him and them, which his wisdom, and kingcraft, could easily at all times reconcile.  
The first that came from the King to the Lords in England, to give order for all things necessary for the expediting his journey toward England, was Sir Roger Aston an Englishman borne, 
Sir Roger Aston K. James his Barber.  but had his breeding wholly in Scotland, and had served the King many years as his Barber, an honest and free-hearted man, and of an ancient Family in Cheshire, but of no breeding answerable to his birth; yet he was the only man ever employed, as a Messenger from the King to Queen Elizabeth, as a Letter carrier only, which expressed their own intentions without any help from him (besides the delivery) but even in that capacity was in very good esteem with her Majesty, and received very royal rewards, which did enrich him, and gave him a better Revenue than most Gentlemen in Scotland; for the Queen did find him as faithful to Her as to his Master, in which he showed much wisdom, though of no breeding. In this his employment I must not pass over one pretty passage, I have heard himself relate; That he did never come to deliver any Letters from his Master, but ever he was placed in the Lobby; the Hangings being turned him, where he might see the Queen dancing to a little Fiddle, which was to no other end, then that he should tell his Master, by her youthful disposition, how likely he was to come to the possession of the crown he so much thirsted after; for you must understand, the wisest in that kingdom did believe the King should never enjoy this crown, as long as there was an old Wife in England, which they did believe we ever set up, as the other was dead.  
Sir Roger Aston presenting himself before the council; being but a plain untutored man, being asked how he did, and courted by all the Lords, lighted upon this happy reply; Even my Lords, like a poor man, wandering above forty years in a wilderness, and barren soil, am now arrived at the Land of Promise. 
After made gentleman of the bedchamber, etc  This man was afterward made Gentleman of the bedchamber, Master of the Wardrobe, and invested with such Honours, and Offices as he was capable of, and that enabled him to live in a noble way, during his life, and to leave his Daughters great Fortunes; but had you seen how the Lords did vie courtesies to this poor Gentleman, striving who should engross that Commodity by the largest bounty; you could not but have condemned them of much baseness (especially, seeing when at this time Offices, and great places of Honour will not be accepted from that son) that the very Barber of whose Father was so much courted, but to speak a good word in their behalfs Surely the times are much altered.  
And now all preparation was made to meet the King in York, that he might in that Northern Metropolis appear like a King of England, and take that State on him there, which was not known in Scotland; There met him all the Lords of the council, and there did they all make Court to the Scotchmen that were most in favour with the King, and there did the Scotch Courtiers lay the first foundation of their English Fortunes; the chief of them was Sir George Hewme, 
Sir Georg● Hewme a kind of Favourit●  a kind of Favourite, but not such as after appeared with young Faces, and smooth Chins, but one that for his wisdom and gravity, had been in some secret counsels with his Master, which created that dearness between them; and the chief of those secrets, was that of Gowries Conspiracy, though that Nation gave little credit to the Story, but would speak both slightly and despitefully of it, and those of the wisest of that Nation; yet there was a weekly commemoration by the Tuesday Sermon, and an anniversary Feast, as great as it was possible, for the King's preservation, ever on the fifth of August; upon which day as Sir John Ramsey after E. of holderness, for his good service in that preservation, was the principal guest, so did the King grant him any boon he would ask that day; but had such limitations set to his asking, as made his suit as unprofitable unto him, as that he asked it for, was unserviceable to the King, and indeed did make the English believe as little the truth of that story, as the Scots themselves did, and yet on my conscience the good Gentleman did in that as a liar often doth, by telling a lie often, believeth it to be a very truth; but the truth was, (although he was not a man capable of much himself) yet had it been true; there was too little done for him, being▪ not true, too much; for, being an Earl, he was in very little esteem, either with his Master, or with the better sort of Courtiers. And I pray God that the effects of those Sermons in the father's time for that service, cause no ill effects, or be not one cause of God's anger towards us in the Sons reign.  
This Sir George Hewme being the only man that was the Guider of the King, and his affairs, all the wiser sort of English made their addresses unto him, amongst those Sir Robert Cicill, 
Sir Robert Cicill a favourite.  a very wise man, but much hated in England, by reason of the fresh bleeding of that universally beloved Earl of Essex, and for that, was clouded also in the King's favour; he came to York, but lay close, unseen, or scarce known to be in the City, until he knew what entertainment he should receive from the King; for he was in his own, and all men's opinions, so under the Hatches, as not ever to appear above board again (nor did any of the counter-faction to Essex besides himself, ever attain to the King's favour;) but those friends raised by his wit, and purse, did so cooperate (of which Sir Roger Aston, that plain man was principal, for which he lost not his labour) that Sir George Hewme, and Sir Robert Cicill had many secret meetings, and did so comply, that Sir Robert Cicill, to the admiration of all, did appear, and come out of his Chamber like a Giant, to run his race, for Honour, and Fortune, and who in such dearness, and privacy with the King as Sir Robert Cicill! as if he had been his faithful Servant many years before; yet did not either his Friends, wit, or wealth, raise him so much (as some believe) as the ill offices done by him to this Nation, in discovering the nature of the people, and showing the King the way, how to enhance his Prerogative so above the laws, that he might enslave the Nation, which though it took well then, yet it hath been of sad and dangerous consequence in after times:  
For first, He caused a whole cartload of Parliament precedents (that spoke the Subjects Liberty) to be burnt:  
Next, raising two hundred thousand pound for making two hundred baronets', telling the King he should find his English Subjects like Asses, on whom he might lay any burden, and should need neither Bit, nor Bridle, but their ass's ears; And when the King said, It would discontent the generality of the Gentry: He replied, Tush Sir, you want the money, that will do you good, the Honour will do them very little; And by these courses he raised himself, friends, and family, to Offices, Honours, and great Possessions; Yet as a punishment, he lived long enough to have lost all, had not Death prevented him between the Bath and London: For the Duke of Bullion being then here, (about the overture of that unfortunate Match between the Palsgrave, and the Lady Elizabeth) had so done his errand, and discovered his juggling; It is most certain, he had been stripped of all at his return, which he well understanding from his Friends at Court, did expedite his end; but he died opportunely to save his honour, and his estate for his posterity, though to leave a mark of ignominy on himself by that Herodian disease, and that for all his great Honours, and Possessions, and stately Houses, he found no place but the top of a molehill, near Marleborough to end his miserable life; so that it may be said of him, and truly, he died of a most loathsome disease, and remarkable, without house, without pity, without the favour of that Master that had raised him to so high an estate; and yet must he have this right done him (which is also a note of the misfortune of our times) there hath not been any since his time that equalled him, to fulfil the proverb, seldom comes a better; he had great parts, was very wise, full of honour, and bounty, a great lover and rewarder of Virtue, and able parts in others; so they did not appear too high in place, or look too narrowly into his actions.  
The next that came on the public Theatre in favour, was Henry Howard, a younger Son of the Duke of Norfolk, and Lord Thomas Howard, the one after Earl of Northampton▪ the other Earl of Suffolk, Lord Chamberlain, and after Lord Treasurer, who by Salisbury's greatness with that Family, rather than by any merit, or wisdom in themselves, raised many great Families of his Children: Northampton though a great clerk, yet not a wise man, but the grossest Flatterer of the World; and as Salisbury by his Wit, so this by his Flattery, raised himself; yet one great motive to the raising all of that Name of Howards was, the Duke of Norfolk, suffering for the Queen of Scots, the King's Mother, yet did Suffolk so far get the start of Northampton, that Northampton never after loved him but from the teeth outwards, only had so much discretion as not to fall to actual enmity, to the overthrow of both, and the weakening that faction; Suffolk also using him with all submissive respect, not for any love, but hope of gaining his great estate, and sharing it amongst his Children; but Northampton's distaste was such, by his loss of the treasurer's place, which he had with such assurance promised to himself in his thoughts, that except what he gave to Master Henry Howard, the rest he gave to the Earl of Arundel, who by his observance, but more especially by giving Northampton all his Estate if he never returned from travel, had wrought himself so far into his affections, that he doted on him.  
And now the principal managers of the English affairs were Salisbury, Suffolk, Northampton, Buckhurst, Egerton Lord Keeper, Worcester, and the Old admiral; For the Scots, Sir George Hewme, now Earl of Dunbar, Secretary Elfeston, after Earl of Balmerino, and as wise a man as was in England, or Scotland, the Lord of Kinlosse, a very honest, but weak man.  
You are now to observe, that Salisbury had shaken off all that were great with him, and of his Faction in Queen Elizabeth's days, as Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir George Carew, the Lord Grey, the Lord Cobham: the three first, very able men as the world had, the last, but one degree from a fool, yet served their turns better than a wiser man, by his greatness with the Queen, for they would put him on any thing, and make him tell any lie, with as great confidence as a truth. Three of these were utterly ruined, as you shall hear in the following Discourse, the fourth being a very wise man, contented himself with a mean place, that was worthy of a much greater; and although very active formerly, called to mind this saying: Foelix quem faciunt, &c. and meddled with no State business, his wisdom foretelling his Fate, if he had done otherwise; for he did see one better head-piece than his own, sit tottering at that time, and fell off afterwards, which made him think it was good sleeping in a whole skin.  
The King no sooner came to London, but notice was taken of a rising Favourite, the first Meteor of that nature appearing in our climate; as the King cast his eye upon him for affection, so did all the Courtiers, 
Mr. James Hay a Favourite.  to adore him, his name was Mr. James Hay, a Gentleman that lived long in France, and some say, of the Scottish Guard to that King; this Gentleman coming over to meet the King, and share with him in his new Conquest (according to the Scots phrase) it should seem had some former acquaintance with the than leaguer ambassador in Scotland for the French King, 
His rise.  who coming with his Majesty into England, presented this Gentleman (as a well accomplished Gentleman) to the King, in such an high commendation as engendered a liking that produced a favourite; in thankful acknowledgement whereof, he did him many fair offices for the present, and coming afterwards an extraordinary ambassador to our King, made him the most sumptuous Feast at Essex house, 
His sumptuous feast.  that ever was seen before, never equalled since, in which was such plenty (and Fish of that immensity, brought out of Muscovia, that Dishes were made to contain them (no Dishes in all England before could near hold them) and after that, a costly Voydee, and after that, a mask of choice noblemen; and Gentlemen, and after that, a most costly and magnificent Banquet, the King, Lords, and all the prime Gentlemen then about London being invited thither. Truly, he was a most complete, 
His accomplishment.  and well accomplished Gentleman, modest, and courtlike, and of so fair a demeanour, as made him be generally beloved; and for his wisdom, I shall give you but one character for all: he was ever great with all the Favourites of his time, and although the King did often change, yet he was semper idem with the King, and Favourites, and got by both; for although Favourites had that exorbitant power over the King, to make him grace, and disgrace whom they pleased; yet he was out of their power, and the only exception to that general rule; and for his gettings, it was more than almost all the Favourites of his time, which appeared in those vast expenses of all sorts, and had not the bounty of his mind exceeded his gettings, he might have left the greatest estate that ever our age or climate had heard of; he was indeed made for a Courtier, who wholly studied his Master, and understood him better than any other.  
He was employed in very many of the most weighty affairs, and sent with the most stately Embassies of our times, which he performed with that wisdom, and magnificence, that he seemed an honour to his King and Country. For his carriage in state-affairs, he was termed by some Princes the King's Juggler. He married the Daughter and heir of the Lord Denny, after the Earl of Northumberlands daughter, and was hated of none that ever I heard of, but the Earl of Northampton, who had no patience to see him, being himself of so venomous and cankered a disposition, that indeed he hated all men of noble parts, nor loved any but Flatterers like himself; yet it was a great question, whether he hated the Earl of Carlisle, or Sir Robert Mansell most, by whom he hath been heard to say; Body of God, I will be content to be damned perpetually in Hell, to be revenged of that proud Welshman; and did so hate him, that he kept an Inquisition on him seven years, to prove that he had cozened the King of fourteen thousand pounds, which at the seven years' end at an hearing before the King, the Lords, the Queen, and all the Ladies being present, with all the gallantry of the Court, ended in one pair of silk stockings, given by one for a new-year's Gift to Master Wells, Sir Robert Mansells Servant; at which, the King stood up and swore very deeply; do you believe I will take a pair of silk stockings for my fourteen thousand pounds? give me that, give me that; is this all the fruit of seven years' Commission? at which words Sir Robert Mansell kneeled down, and said, I will now Sir take all the faults they can charge my servant with, upon myself; at which the King was very angry, that so noble a Gentleman, who had so well acquitted himself, and Honour, should intrust it in the keeping of a Servant; at the end of all, the Earl of Salisbury kneeled down, and said; Sir, if you will suffer malice so far to prevail, as to have your honest Servants traduced, to satisfy the humours of any, I beseech you take my staff, for were myself, and the Earl of Worcester here present, put in the balance against Sir Robert Mansell, we should prove too light; I am in a great Place, and cannot say, but by myself, or servants, I may fail, yet not with our own wills; therefore Sir, if you will suffer such inquisitions, there will be no serving your Majesty, in such places as I hold, by your majesty's favour; thus ended the Earl of Northampton's malice, which only served to honour Sir Robert Mansell, and make a scorn of himself, and this only to make the venom of this Monster appear, who did flatter the King, and dissemble with God.  
And now begin ambassadors to appear from divers Princes, the principal were, Roney Duke of Sullice, from the French King; the Constable of Castille from the Spanish King, the Count Arremberg from the Arch Duke; the former came to congratulate only, and desired the confirmation of the ancient amity betwixt the two crowns; the latter two about the establishing a firm peace betwixt these two kingdoms, that had lived in perpetual war, and hatred of each other, by which it might appear where the advantage of such a peace would fall, by those that sought, or rather bought it with an infinite mass of treasure, prodigally cast about the English Court.  
To bring these ambassadors over, were appointed Sir Robert Mansell, being admiral of the narrow Seas, and Sir Jerome Turner his vice-admiral, the first commanded to attend at gravelling for the Spanish ambassador, the latter at Calis for the French; but the French coming first, and hearing the vice-admiral was to attend him, the admiral the other; in a scorn put himself in a Passage-boat of Calis, came forth with flag in top; instantly Sir Jerome Turner sent to know of the admiral what he should do; Sir Robert Mansell sent him word, to shoot, and sink him, if he would not take in the flag; this as it made the flag be pulled in, so a great complaint, and 'twas believed it would have undone Sir Robert Mansell, the French Faction pressing it so home: but he maintained the act, and was the better beloved of his Master ever after, to his dying day.  
This makes it appear how jealous old Commanders were of their own honour, and of their Masters, and kingdom's honours, which since hath been so prodigally wasted, as we are utterly bankrupt, having spent our old Stock, and have not bravery enough to erect a new.  
The Constable of Castille so plied his Master's business (in which he spared for no cost) that he procured a peace so advantageous for Spain, and so disadvantageous for England, that it and all Christendom have since both seen and felt the lamentable effects thereof. There was not one Courtier of note, that tasted not of Spain's bounty, either in Gold, or Jewels and among them, not any in so large a proportion as the Countess of Suffolk, who shared in her Lord's interest, being then a potent man, and in that interest which she had, in being Mistress to that little great Secretary (little in body and stature, but great in wit and policy) the sole manager of State affairs; so it may be said, she was a double sharer, and in truth Audley-end, that famous and great structure, had its foundation of Spanish Gold.  
The King was a peaceable and merciful Prince; yet God (for some secret intent best known to himself) laid the foundation of his reign, with the greatest mortality ever before heard of in this kingdom, by a fearful Plague, 
A great Plague.  and some by that judged what his future reign would be, yet their wisdoms failed, for he was a King of mercy as well as peace, never cruel, yet surely it had some moral.  
He was forced by that contagion to leave the Metropolis, and go into a by corner in Wiltshire, Wilton the Earl of Pembroke's House, in which time of his abode there, a kind of Treason broke forth, but what it was, as no man could then tell, so it is left with so dark a Comment, that posterity will never understand the Text, or remember any such treason; it is true, some lost their lives, yet the world was never satisfied of the justice, and one of them, (and that the only mark of Tyranny upon this good King's reign) executed many years after without all precedent, and on my conscience without any just cause, and even against that good Kings will, who in many things was overawed by his timorous disposition.  
But the Spanish Faction, and Spanish Gold betrayed his life, as they had done the kingdom before, and I believe it was one of the greatest masterpieces of that ambassador, to purchase Raleigh's head, yet had not Bristol cooperated, the King would never have consented, and it may be he had his secret ends, fearing his wisdom might once again have raised him, to have looked over Sherborne Castle, once his own, and how unjustly taken from him God will one day judge; I know not whether there be a curse on those that are owners of it, as Fables report, but I am confident there is a curse on Bristol for taking away his life; I will not take upon me too far to pry into God's ark, yet what is like to befall him, and hath already, his Son (as hopeful a Gentleman as any in the kingdom) may give some token of God's anger against him and his family.  
But because I will not leave you altogether blind-folded, 
A narration of the Treason charged on Raleigh.  I shall as near as I can lead you to the discovery of this Treason, which consisted of Protestants, Puritans, Papists, and of an Atheist: a strange medley you will say, to meet in one and the same Treason, and keep counsel, which surely they did, because they knew not of any; the Protestants were the Lord Cobham, and George Brook his Brother, the one very learned and wise, the other a most silly Lord, the Puritan the Lord Grey of Wilton, a very hopeful Gentleman, blasted in the very Bud; the Papists Watson, and clerk, Priests; and Parham a Gentleman, the Atheist Sir Walter Raleigh, then generally so believed, though after brought by affliction (the best school-mistress) to be, and so died, a most religious Gentleman. This Treason was compounded of strange ingredients (and more strange than true) it was very true, most of these were discontented, to see Salisbury their old friend so high, to trample on them, that before had been his chief supporters, and (being ever of his faction) now neglected and contemned: it was then believed an errand trick of State to overthrow some, and disable others, knowing their strong abilities might otherwise live to overthrow Salisbury, for they were intimate in all his secret counsels for the ruin of Essex, especially Raleigh, Gray, and Cobham; though the latter was a fool, yet had been very useful to them (as the tool in the hand of the Workman) and to have singled out these without some Priests, which were traitors by the Law, had smelled too rank, and appeared too poor and plain a trick of State; and Salisbury in this had a double benefit: First, in ridding himself of such as he feared would have been thorns in his sides. Secondly, by endearing himself to the King, by showing his diligence, and vigilancy for his safety; so that it might be said of him as of Caesar in another case (Inveniam aut saciam) I will either find out a Treason or make one, and this had been a pretty trick had it been only to disgrace, without taking away life; but how this piece of policy may stand with Religion, I fear by this time he too well understands; and this plot as near as I can tell you (and I dare say my intelligence gave me as near a guess as ever any man had) was, that all these in a discontented humour had by Watson, and clerk, being Confessors, dealt with Count Aremberge, the Arch Duke's ambassador, to negotiate with the Arch Duke to raise an Army, and invade England, and they would raise another of Papists, and malcontents to join: for you must understand the King was believed an errand Puritan, (Cujus contrarium verum est) how likely this Plot was, let the world judge, that the King of Spain, who had bought peace at so dear a rate, and found it so advantageous to him, by the lamentable experience he had formerly in the Wars with this formidable State, should seek to break it so soon: and had it been a real Treason, the State had been bound to have rewarded these traitors, as the best piece of service done in England all that King's reign (it was indeed those that made the Peace, not those that endeavoured the breaking of it, were the traitors, and are to be cursed by all Posterity) yet this foolish Plot served well enough to take some blocks out of the way, that might afterward have made some of them stumble, to the breaking of their own necks.  
They were all Arraigned of Treason at Winchester, whither the King having sent some secretly to observe all passages, upon whose true and faithful relations of the innocencies of the Persons Arraigned, and the slight proofs, upon which they were condemned: he would not be drawn to sign any Warrant for the execution of Raleigh, Cobham, and Grey, very hardly for any of the rest, the two Priests excepted.  
For Raleigh's defence, it was so brave and just, as (had he not wilfully cast himself, out of very weariness, as unwilling to detain the company longer) no Jury could ever have cast him; all the Evidence brought against him was Cobham's Accusation, which he only desired might appear (viva voce) and he would yield without further defence, but that they knew full well Cobham would not, nor could not accuse him, having been tampered with by Wade, than Lieutenant of the Tower, and Salisbury's great Creature; Wade desired it under his hand, that also he refused, at last Wade got a trick by his cunning, to surprise Cobham's weakness, to get him write his name to a Blank, to which, Wade, no question, wrote the accusation, as will appear hereafter; for Salisbury urging Raleigh often, if Cobham had accused him under his hand, would he then yield? Raleigh replied, He knew Cobham weak of judgement, and did not know how that weakness might be wrought upon, but was confident he would not to his face accuse him, and therefore would not put his life, fortune, and all on that; at which fence he stood till nine at night: at last his fate carried him against his reason, and he yielded upon the producing his hand, which was instantly pulled out, and was in truth his hand, but not his act, or deed: so at that present was George Brooke, Watson, and clerk executed, Parham acquitted, and Sir Walter Raleigh executed many years after for the same treason, as much against all justice, as beyond all reason, or any precedent: yea after he had been a general by the King's Commission, and had by that, power of the Lives of many others, utterly against the civil Law, which saith, He that hath power of the Lives of others, aught to be Master of his own. But the Spaniard was so powerful at that time in Court, as that Faction could command the life of any man that might prove dangerous to his designs; Grey and Cobham died in their restraint, the one much pitied, the other scorned, and his death as base, for he died lousy for want of apparel, and linen; and had starved, had not a Trencher-scraper, sometime his Servant in Court, releived him with scraps, in whose house he died, being so poor a house as he was forced to creep up a Ladder into a little hole to his Chamber; which was a strange judgement, and unpresidented, that a man of seven thousand pounds per annum, and of a personal estate of thirty thousand pounds, of all which the King was so cheated of what should have Escheated to him, that he could not give him any maintenance, as in all cases the King doth, unless out of his own Revenue of the Crown, which was the occasion of this Lords want, (his Wife being very rich, would not give him the crumbs that fell from her Table;) and this was a just judgement of God on him.  
And now, because it will be pertinent in this place to let you understand, that Raleigh had his life surreptitiously taken away, I shall give you a true story.  
Queen Anne, that brave Princess, was in a desperate (and some believed an incurable) Disease, whereof the physicians were at the furthest end of their studies to find the cause, at a nonplus for the Cure; Sir Walter Raleigh, being by his long studies an admirable chemist, undertook, and performed the Cure, for which he would receive no other reward, but that her Majesty would procure that certain Lords might be sent to examine Cobham, whether he had accused Sir Walter Raleigh of Treason at any time under his hand; the King, at the Queen's request (and in Justice could do no less) sends six Lords, (which I take were, the Duke of Leonox, Salisbury, Worcester, Suffolk, Sir George Carew, and Sir Julius Caesar) to demand of Cobham, whether he had not under his hand accused Sir Walter Raleigh at Winchester, upon that Treason he was Arraigned for; Cobham did protest, never, nor could he; but, said he, That villain Wade did often solicit me, and not prevailing that way, got me by a trick to write my name upon a piece of white Paper; which I, thinking nothing, did, so that if any Charge came under my hand, it was forged by that villain Wade, by writing something above my hand without my consent or knowledge. These six returning to the King, the rest made Salisbury their spokesman, who said, Sir, my Lord Cobham hath made good all that ever he wrote, or said. Where it is to be noted, that this was but an equivocating trick in Salisbury; for it was true, that Cobham had made good whatever he had writ (that being but in truth to very nothing) but never wrote he any thing to accuse Raleigh; by which you may see the baseness of these Lords, the credulity of the King, and the ruin of Sir Walter Raleigh. I appeal now to the judgement of all the world, whether these six Lords were not the immediate murderers of Sir Walter Raleigh, and no question shall be called to a sad account for it.  
And thus have you a true relation of the Treason, and traitors, with all the windings and turnings in it, and all passages appertaining to it; and by it you may see the slavery these great men were enslaved in by Salisbury, that none durst testify such a truth, as the not testifying, lost their most precious souls.  
And now doth the King return to Windsor, where there was only an apparition of Southamptons' being a Favourite to his Majesty, by that privacy and dearness was presented to the Court-view; but Salisbury (liking not that any of Essex his faction should come into play) made that apparition appear as it were in transitu, and so vanished, by putting some jealousies into the King's head, who was so far from jealousy, that he did not much desire to be in his Queen's company, yet love and regality must admit of no partnership.  
Then was there in requital of the Spanish ambassadors, two stately Embassies addressed, the one to Spain, the other to the Arch Duke, to have that peace they so dearly purchased confirmed, and sworn to by ours, as formerly by them; the old Lord admiral was sent to Spain, the Earl of Hartford for Brussels, that the Duke of Leonox might have the better opportunity. The Spaniard was astonished at the braveness of our embassy, and the handsome Gentlemen (in both which, few Embassies ever equalled this) for you must understand the Jesuites reported our Nation to be ugly, and like Devils, as a punishment sent to our Nation for casting off the Pope's supremacy; and they pictured Sir Francis Drake generally half a Man, half a Dragon; When they beheld them after the shape of Angels, they could not well tell whether to trust their own eyes, or their Confessors reports, yet they then appeared to them, as to all the world, monstrous liars.  
The ambassador had his reception with as much state, as his entertainment with bounty, the King defraying all charges, and they were detained at their Landing longer than ordinary, to have provisions prepared in their passage to Madrid, with all the bounty was possible, to make the whole Country appear a Land of Canaan, which was in truth, but a wilderness.  
In their abode there, although they gave them Roast-meat, yet they beat them with the spits, by reporting that the English did steal all the Plate, when in truth it was themselves, who thought to make Hay while the sun shined, not thinking ever more to come to such a Feast, to fill their purses as well as their bellies▪ (for food and coin are equally alike scarce with that Nation) this report passed for currant, to the infinite dishonour of our Nation, there being at that time the prime gallantry of our Nation.  
Sir Robert Mansell, who was a man borne to vindicate the Honour of his Nation, as of his own, being vice-admiral, and a man on whom the old admiral wholly relied, having dispatched the Ships to be gone the next morning, came in very late to Supper; Sir Richard Levison sitting at the upper end of the Table amongst the Grandees, the admiral himself not supping that night, being upon the dispatch of Letters, the Table upon Sir Robert Mansells entrance offered to rise, to give him place: But he sat down instantly at the lower end, and would not let any man stir, and falling to his meat, did espy a Spaniard, as the Dishes emptied, ever putting some in his bosom, some in his breeches, that they both strutted: Sir Robert Mansell sent a Message to the upper end of the table to Sir Richard Levison to be delivered in his ear, that whatsoever he saw him do, he should desire the Gentlemen and Grandees to sit quiet, for there should be no cause of any disquiet; on the sudden, Sir Robert Mansell steps up, takes this Spaniard in his arms, (at which the table began to rise; Sir Richard Levison quiets them,) brings him up to the end amongst the Grandees, then pulls out the Plate from his bosom, breeches, and every part about him, which did so amaze the Spaniard, and vindicate that aspersion cast on our Nation, that never after was there any such syllable heard, but all honour done to the Nation, and all thanks to him in particular.  
From thence, next day they went for Madrid, where all the royal entertainment Spain could yield was given them, and at the end of the Grand entertainment and revels, which held most part of the night, as they were all returning to their Lodgings, the street being made light by white Wax lights, and the very night forced into a day, by shining light, as they were passing in the street, a Spaniard catcheth off Sir Robert Mansells Hat, with a very rich jewel in it, and away he flies; Sir Robert not being of a spirit to have any thing violently taken from him, nor of such a courtlike compliment, to part with a jewel of that price, to one no better acquainted with him, hurls open the boot, follows after the fellow, and some three Gentlemen did follow him, to secure him, houseth the Fellow in the house of an Allagozy, which is a great Officer, or Judge in Spain; this Officer wondering at the manner of their coming, the one without his hat and sword in his hand, the other with all their swords; Demands the cause, They tell him; He saith, surely none can think his house a sanctuary, who is to punish such offenders.  
But Sir Robert Mansell would not be so put off with his Spanish gravity, but enters the House, leaving two at the Gate, to see that none should come out whiles he searched; A long while they could find nothing, and the Allagozy urging this as an affront, at last, looking down into a welford of a small depth, he saw the fellow stand up to the neck in Water: Sir Robert Mansell seized on his Hat, and jewel, leaving the fellow to the Allagozy, but he had much rather have fingered the jewel, and in his gravity told Sir Robert Mansell, he could not have it without form of Law, which Sir Robert dispensed with, carrying away his Hat, and jewel, and never heard further of the business; now the truth was, this fellow knew his burrow well enough, as well as some thieves of our Nation, after they have done a Robbery, would put themselves into a Prison of their acquaintance, assuring themselves none would search there, or rather as our Recorders of London, whose chief revenue for themselves, and servants, is from thieves, Whores, and Bawds, therefore this story cannot seem strange in England.  
The other ambassador sent to the Arch Duke, was, the old Earl of Hertford, who was conveyed over in one of the King's Ships, by Sir William Munson, in whose passage a Dutch Man of war coming by that ship, would not veil, as the manner was, acknowledging by that, our sovereignty over the Sea, Sir William Munson gave him a shot to instruct him in manners, but instead of learning, he taught him by returning another, he acknowledged no such sovereignty; this was the very first indignity and affront ever offered to the royal Ships of England, which since have been most frequent; Sir William Monson desired my Lord of Hertford to go into the Hold, and he would instruct him by stripes, that refused to be taught by fair means; but the Earl charged him on his Allegiance first to land him, on whom he was appointed to attend; so to his great regret, he was forced to endure that indignity, for which I have often heard him wish he had been hanged, rather than live that unfortunate Commander of a King's Ship, to be Chronicled for the first that ever endured that affront, although it was not in his power to have helped it; yet by his favour, it appeared but a copy of his countenance, for it had been but hazarding hanging to have disobeyed my Lord's commandment, and it had been infinite odds he had not been hanged, having to friend him, the House of Suffolk; nor would he have been so sensible of it, had he not been of the Spanish Faction, and that a Dutch ship.  
Now did those great managers of the State (of which Salisbury was chief) after they had packed the Cards begin to deal the government of the kingdom amongst themselves, and persuaded the King to leave the State affairs to them, and to betake himself to some Country recreations, which they found him addicted unto, for the City, and business, did not agree with him; to that end purchased, built, and repaired at Newmarket, and Royston, and this pleased the King's humour well, rather that he might enjoy his Favourite with more privacy, then that he loved the sports; then must Theobolds be in his own possession, as not fit for a King to be beholding to a Subject for an House of daily use, but because the King had so much want of moneys (to express his love, and bounty to his Native Nation) Salisbury would exchange, and take Land for his House, and park; in which exchange, he made such an advantage, that he sold his House for fifty years' purchase, and that so cunningly, as hardly to be discerned, but by a curious sight, for he fleeted off the cream of the King's manors in many Counties, not any two lying in any one County, and made choice of the most in the remotest Counties, only built his nest at Hatfield, within the County where his Father had built his, yet kept he still the house of Theobolds, for he and his posterity were to be perpetual Keepers of that House, and many parks adjacent; by this he not only showed his wisdom for his own benefit, but to the world what the Kings natural disposition was, to be easily abused, and would take counterfeit coin for currant payment.  
And to fit the King's humour, and dissolve him in that delight he was most addicted to, as well as to serve Salisbury's own ends, and satisfy his revenge upon some neighbour Gentlemen, that formerly would not sell him some convenient parcels of Land neighbouring on Theobald's, he puts the King on enlarging the park, walling, and storing it with red deer; and I dare affirm, with that work the King was so well pleased, and did more glory in, than his Predecessors did in the conquest of France; and as it was most true, so an ill Omen, that the King loved Beasts better than Men, and took more delight in them, and was more tender over the life of a Stag then of a Man; yet this was the weakness of his judgement, and poorness of his Spirit, rather than any innate cruelty, for he was not naturally cruel over lives, though in displacing Officers, which naturally he did believe, was as glorious, as to overthrow, and conquer Kings.  
But yet for all their setting their Cards, and playing their Games to their own advantages, of getting much for themselves, and friends, there was one Knave in the pack, would cross their designs, and Trump in their way, if he might not share with them in their winning; that was one Lake, a clerk of the Signet, after, Secretary, and after that turned out in disgrace; and in truth, was only wise in the world's opinion, could swim being held up by the chin; but at his fall all his weaknesses were discovered: and that the world had been deceived in him, I will instance in one particular amongst many, that shall give you full assurance; being in disgrace, he gave two thousand pounds but to kiss the King's hand, believing that after that, he might have access as formerly; after he had paid his money, he was never suffered to see the King more, only jeered at by all the Court for his folly, and went sneaking up and down contemned of all men.  
This Lake was a fellow of mean birth, and meaner breeding, being an under Servant to make Fires in Secretary Walsingham's chamber, and there got some experience, which afterwards in the King's time made him appear an able man, which in the Queen's time, when there was none in Court but men of eminencies, made him an inconsiderable Fellow. He had linked himself in with the Scotish Nation, progging for Suits, and helping them to fill their Purses; as they did believe, there was not so able a man in the kingdom (for in truth ever since Queen Elizabeth's death, the raising money hath been the only way to raise men, as being held the essential property of a wise man, to know how to bring in money (per fas aut nefas) and amongst all the Scots, he wholly applied himself to those of the bedchamber, and of nearest access to his Majesty.  
For his good service of abusing his Country, and countrymen, he was made clerk of the Signet, to wait on the King in his Hunting journeys, and in these journeys got all the bills signed, even for the greatest Lords (all Packets being addressed to him) so that even Salisbury; and Northampton, and the greatest Lords made Court to him; by this means did he raise himself from a mean to a great fortune, but so overawed by his wife, that if he did not what she commanded, she would beat him, and in truth his Wife was afterwards his overthrow; besides, he would tell Tales, and let the King know the passages of Court, and great men, as who was Salisbury's Mistress, and governed all; who governed Northampton, and discovered their bawdry, which did infinitely please the King's humour: and in truth had so much craft, as he served his turn upon all, but was engrossed by none but by the bedchamber, who stuck so close to him, that they could not yet remove him. And now do the English Faction (seeing they could not sever the Scots from him) endeavour to raise a mutiny against the Scots that were his supporters, their Agents divulging everywhere, the Scots would get all, and would beggar the Kingdom; the Scots on the other side complain to the King, they were so poor, they underwent the byword of beggarly Scots; to which the King returned this answer (as he had a very ready wit) Content yourselves, I will shortly make the English as beggarly as you, and so end that controversy; this is as true as he truly performed it, for however he enriched many in particular, as Salisbury, Suffolk, Northampton, Worcester, Lake, &c. yet he did beggar himself, and the Nation in general.  
This also was inculcated into the ears of the Parliament, when that great business about the union was in debate, which was much crossed by that opinion; if they had already impoverished the kingdom, by the union, they would bankrupt it. But since, you see by their own valour and bravery of spirit, they have made us beg a reunion with them, and for aught we see, all our happiness is derived from their favours.  
 
They that then lived at Court, and were curious observers of every man's actions, could have affirmed, that Salisbury, Suffolk, and Northampton, and their friends did get more than the whole Nation of Scotland (Dunbar excepted) for whatever others got, they spent here, only Dunbar laid a foundation of a great Family, which did all revert into England again, with his daughter's marriage with the House of Suffolk, so in truth, all the water run to their Mills.  
It is most true, that many Scots did get much, but not more with one hand, than they spent with the other, witness the Earl of Kelly, Annandale, &c. nay, that great Getter, the Earl of Carlisle also, and some private Gentlemen; as Gideon Murrey, John Achmoty, James Baily, John Gib, and Bernard Lindley, got some pretty estates, not worthy either the naming or envying, that old Servants should get some moderate estates to leave to posterity.  
But 〈◊〉, and all the Scots in general, got scarce the tithe of those English Getters, that can be said did stick by them, or their posterity; besides, Salisbury had one trick to get the kernel, and leave the Scots but the shell, yet cast all the envy on them; He would make them buy books of Fee-farmes, some one hundred pounds per annum, some one hundred marks, and he would compound with them for a thousand pounds, which they were willing to embrace, because they were sure to have them pass without any control, or charge, and one thousand pounds appeared to them that never saw ten pounds before, an inexhaustible treasure; then would Salisbury fill up this book with such prime Land, as should be worth ten or twenty thousand pounds, which was easy for him, being Treasurer, so to do; and by this means Salisbury enriched himself  
infinitely, yet cast the envy on the Scots, in whose names these books appeared, and are still upon Record to all posterity; though Salisbury had the Honey, they poor Gentlemen but part of the Wax; Dunbar only had his Agents, and could play his own game, which they durst not cross; so was the poor King and State cheated on all hands.  
And now did a contention arise between the English and Scots, about the election of a Favourite, out of whether Nation he should come; now was Montgomery in the wane, being given more to his own pleasures, then to observe the King, so that always the Earl of Carliste did invest him in his room; he as soon by his neglective carriage did divest himself, yet was he ever in the King's good opinion, and one that he put more trust in at the time of his death, then in all his other servants.  
Then was there a young Gentleman, 
Mr. Car his rise.  Master Robert Car, who had his breeding in France, and was newly returned from travail, a Gentleman very handsome, and well bred, and one that was observed to spend his time in serious studies, and did accompany himself with none but men of such eminencies, as by whom he might be bettered; this Gentleman, the Scots so wrought it, that they got him into a groom's place of the bedchamber, and was very well pleasing to all; he did more than any other Associate himself, with Sir Thomas Overbury, a man of excellent parts, (but those made him proud, overvaluing himself, and under-valuing others, and was infected with a kind of insolency) with this Gentleman spent he most of his time, and drew the eyes of the Court, as well as the affection of his Master upon him, yet very few, but such as were the curious observers of those times could discern the drawing of the King's affection▪ 〈◊〉 upon a Coronation day, riding in with the Lord Dingwell to the tiltyard, his horse fell with him, and broke his leg, he was instantly carried into Master rider's house at Charing-cross, and the news as instantly carried to the King, having little desire to behold the triumph, but much desired to have it ended, and no sooner ended, but the King went instantly to visit him, and after by his daily visiting, and mourning over him, taking all care for his speedy recovery, made the daybreak of his glory appear, every Courtier now concluding him, actually a favourite.  
Lord! how the great men flocked then to see him, and to offer to his Shrine in such abundance, that the King was forced to lay a restraint, lest it might retard his recovery by spending his spirits; and to facilitate the cure, care was taken for a choice diet for himself, and chirurgeons, with his Attendants, and no sooner recovered but a proclaimed Favourite.  
Then the English Lords, who formerly coveted an English Favourite (and to that end the Countess of Suffolk did look out choice young men, whom she daily curled, and perfuming their breaths) left all hope, and she her curling and perfuming, all adoring this rising Sun, every man striving to invest himself into this man's favour (not sparing for bounty nor flattery) which was not hard to be obtained, being naturally more addicted to the English then to the Scotch, in so much that he endeavoured to forget his native Country, and his father's house, having none of note about him but English, and but one besides English, in any familiarity with him, which was Sir Robert Car his kinsman; but above all, was Sir Thomas Overbury his Pythias. Then was the strife between Salisbury and Suffolk, who should engross him, and make him their Monopoly; each presenting, proffering, and accumulating favours upon Overburyes Kindred, the Father made a judge in Wales, and himself offered Offices; but Overbury, naturally of an insolent spirit, which was elevated by being so intimate with a Favourite, and wholly having engrossed that commodity, which could not be retayled, but by him and his favour; with a kind of scorn neglected their friendships, yet made use of both.  
Now was Car Knighted, 
Mr. Car Knighted.  and made Gentleman of the bedchamber, and Overbury's pride rose with the others honours, still scorning the Chapmen, as they did by their cheap offices undervalue so precious a commodity.  
Northampton finding himself neglected by so mean a fellow, 
Northampton's plot upon him.  cast about another way, and followed Balaam's council, by sending a Moabitish Woman unto him, in which he made use of Copinger a Gentleman, who had spent a fair fortune left by his Ancestors, and now for maintenance, was forced to lead the life of a servingman (that formerly kept many to serve him) and as an addition, the worst of that kind, a flat Bawd.  
This Gentleman had lived a scandalous life, by keeping a Whore of his own, which for the honour of her Family I will not name, therefore was fittest to trade in that commodity for another, and in truth was fit to take any impression baseness could stamp on him, as the sequel of this story will manifest; This Moabitish woman, was a Daughter of the Earl of Suffolk, married to a young noble Gentleman the Earl of Essex.  
This Train took, and the first private meetings were at copingers' house, and himself Bawd to their lust, which put him into a far greater bravery for a time▪ than when he was master of his own, but i● had bitterness on all hands in the end. This privacy in their stolen pleasures, made Copinger a friend to Northampton, and Suffolk, though but a Servant to Viscount Rochester, for so now was he called, and now had they linked him so close, as no breaking from them.  
Overbury was that John Baptist that reproved the Lord, for the sin of using the Lady, and abusing the young Earl of Essex; would call her Strumpet, her mother and brother Bawds, and used them with so much scorn, as in truth was not to be endured from a fellow of his Rank; to persons of that quality, how faulty soever otherwise they were.  
Then to satisfy Overbury, and blot out the name of Sin, his love led him into a more desperate way by a resolution to marry another man's wife, against this than did Overbury bellow louder, and in it, showed himself more like an affectionate, than a discreet & moderate friend: had he compounded but one dram of discretion with an ounce of affection, he might with such a receipt, have preserved his own life, and their fortunes and honours.  
For, those that infinitely hated that Family, did as infinitely condemn his insolent carriage and behaviour towards them; so that had any of those Brothers, or name, killed Overbury, either by picking a quarrel with him, or pistoling him, or any other desperate way, or bravely in a duel, upon some other ground of a quarrel, then blemishing their Sister; the World would have justified the action, however he had stood with God; but Buchanan's character of that Family bars all expectation of so much bravery of spirit; but a counsel must be held to put him to death by some baser means.  
The Plot them must be, 
The plot against Overbury.  he must be sent a Leidger ambassador into France, which by obeying, they should be rid of so great an eyesore, by disobeying, he incurred the displeasure of his Prince; a contempt, that he could not expect less than imprisonment for, and by that means be sequestered from his friend.  
And thus far I do believe the Earl of Somerset, (for so was he now created) was consenting; this stratagem took, and Overbury might truly say Video meliora, deteriora sequor: for he indeed made the worst choice; it could not be thought, but such an employment was far above his desert, and much better for him to have accepted then to be confined to a loathsome Prison, and for want of judgement, had his sufferings been less than loss of life he had not been worthy of pity; but, Jupiter quos vult perdere, hos dementat; he would to the Tower, from whence he never returned, rather than accept of an honourable employment, from whence he might not only have returned, but done his friends acceptable service, either in private, or public.  
In his managing of this business, that wisdom of his which formerly he had been esteemed for, suffered under the censure of Wise men, as well as fools. Having him now fast in Prison; Herodias by pleasing her Herod must also ask, and have his life; for, per scelus ad scelera tutior est via. To that end they preferred empoisoners to be servants to Sir Gervase Elwayes then Lieutenant of the Tower; The Gentleman was ever held wise, and honest, but unfortunate in having this place thrust upon him without his thought; he was also so religious, that few in the Court did equal him; so wise, as he obtained the Character of wise Sir Gervase Elwayes, yet neither could his wisdom, nor the opinion of his Religion and honesty, prevent that Fate, he was so ignorant of the plot, as he never did dream of any such matter; until one day (as it should seem) Weston being told, Elwayes did know wherefore he was preferred unto him, to wait on Overbury; he asked the Lieutenant one day before dinner whether he should now do it, Elwayes asked him, what? Weston at that being somewhat abashed, Elwayes espying it, presently said, no not yet; for he did believe there was something known to Weston, which was a secret to himself. Whereupon, Elwayes could not chew any meat, for chewing upon those words of Weston, but instantly commanded his Table to be voided, and thence he went into his Study, and sent for Weston to come unto him, examining him of the meaning of that question; at last by fair means, and threatening together, got the truth; then Elwayes (as he well could) laid before Weston the horridness of the Fact, the torments of Hell, and the unassurance of his momentary enjoying of either reward or favour after the Fact done, but that it must follow so many Personages of Honour, would never cabinet such a secret in his breast, that might ruin them; at last made him so sensible of his danger in this life; but more sensible of the torments in the other, that Weston falling on his knees, said; O Lord, how good and gracious art thou, and thy mercy is above all thy works; for this day is salvation come to my soul, and I would not for all the world have had such a sin upon me; giving the Lieutenant humble thanks, that had been the instrument of saving his soul, by putting him off from so foul intentions.  
The Lieutenant having now thus renewed grace in him, by making him (as he thought) a new man; said, thou and I have a dangerous part to act, yet be honest and true to me, and I doubt not, but with God's help, we shall perform it well, both before God and the World; Weston faithfully promised him, and for a long time as faithfully performed with him; the Lieutenant willed him, to bring all such things as were sent him (to give Overbury) unto him, which he accordingly did; the Lieutenant gave them to Cats and Dogs which he ever had ready in his study for that purpose; some died presently, some lay lingering a longer time: all the Jellies and Tarts sent to Overbury, he cast into his Privy, they destaining the very Dishes,  
This continued long, the Earl often sending to visit Overbury, assuring him he did not forget his release, which would not be long deferred, wherein most men did verily believe he meant both nobly and truly, though others conjectured his meaning was a dissolution: At last the Countess sent for Weston, reviling him, and calling him, Treacherous villain, for had he given those things sent, Overbury had not been now alive; vowing, she would be revenged on him; upon the very fear whereof, he then gave those poisons after sent, without acquainting the Lieutenant; yet for all this schooling of Weston, and his assurance given of his future fidelity to the Countess, she would not trust him single any more, but put another coadjutor to him, one Franklin, a verier Villain than Weston, and truly they themselves may be deemed very ill, that could seek out such wicked instruments.  
These two Villains, out of a desire to see the success of their hellish employment, coming shortly after it, into Overburyes chamber, found him in infinite torment, with contention between the strength of Nature and the working of the poison, and it being very like Nature had gotten the better in that contention, by the thrusting out of boils, botches, and blains, they fearing it might come to light, upon the judgement of physicians, that foul play had been offered him, consented to stifle him with the Bed-cloathes, which accordingly was performed, and so ended he his miserable life, with the assurance of the Conspirators, that he died by poison; none thinking (much less knowing) otherwise, but these two murderers.  
Now was all (as they believed) quiet, and in the depth of security, and the Earl and Countess began to carry their loves more openly and impudently: But, they understanding that the world did talk very loudly, and broadly of this adulterous meeting; it must (from that ground) proceed to an adulterous Marriage, as well to the wronging a young Noble man, as to the dishonour and shame of themselves; But they must needs go whom the devil drives: yet know they not how, and somely to effect this, but by making the King a Party in this bawdy business, which was no hard matter to effect; for the King's eye began to wander after a new Favourite, being satiated with the old; therefore for the bringing this bawdry to a marriage, the Bishops must be principal actors (as I know not in what bad action they would not be lookerson,) and the Bishop of Winchester, an excellent Civilian, and a very great scholar, must be the principal, for which his Son was Knighted, and will never lose that by-title of Sir Nullity Bilson.  
For, by a nullity of the first Marriage, must the second take place; For the canvasing whereof, there were many meetings of the Bishops and the prime Civillians, in which there wanted no bribes from the Lord, Lady, and their Friends, to have this nullity brought to pass, wherein the discourse would have better befitted the mouths of Bawds and Ruffians, than the grave Divines; among them▪ Bishop Neal, (Than Bishop of Rochester, a Creature and Favourite of the house of Suffolk) took up a learned discourse in the Science of bawdry, how many degrees in that Science must produce a Nullity, wherein were so many beastly expressions, as for modesty sake I will not recite them, being offensive to my very thoughts and memory; Aristotle's problems was a modest discourse to his, and he appeared to be better studied in that, then in Divinity, and to wind up his learned Discourse, concluded, all those met in this Lord, (meaning Essex) and this Lady.  
The Archbishop of Canterbury Abbot, to his everlasting fame, mainly opposed all the proceedings, and protested against them, for which he ever after lived in disgrace, excluded from the council Table, and died in the disgrace of the King on Earth, though in favour with the King of Kings.  
Yet, forsooth, to make up the full measure of bawdry, and to justify Neales Discourse, that all things in the former Marriage conduced to a nullity; a search must be made, to find whether there had been a penetration, and a Jury of grave Matrons were found fit for that purpose, with their Spectacles, ground, to lessen, not to make the letter larger; who after their inspection gave their (false) verdict, that she was intacta virgo: which was thought very strange, for the World took notice that her way was very near beaten, so plain, as by regia via, and in truth so it was, and a way more common than that, before Somerset did ever travel that way; besides, the World took notice they two had long lived in Adultery, yet had this old Kettle a trick for that also.  
The Lady of Essex, for modesty sake, makes humble suit to the reverend bawdy Bishops, (who were also plotters in this stratagem) that she might not appear bare-faced, for blushing; but desired to come vailed, with a taffety over her face; this by all means was thought so reasonable (for a pretty modest Lady) that the bawdy Bishops, and purblind Ladies, which had forgotten modesty themselves, could not think it worthy the denial; one Mistress Fines, near Kinswoman to old Kettle, was dressed up in the Countess' clothes, at that time too young to be other than virgo intacta, though within two years after▪ had the old Ladies made their inspection, the orifice would not have appeared so small, to have delivered such a verdict as they did (and a just one) upon their views: though upon some of their knowledges it was not that Lady they were to give verdict upon; if any make doubt of the truth of this Story, the Author delivers upon the reputation of a Gentleman, he had it verbatim from a Knight, (otherwise of much Honour, 
S. W. B.  though the very dependency on that Family may question it) which did usher the Lady into the place of inspection, and hath told it often to his friends in mirth.  
Now is the Nullity pronounced, and the Marriage with Somerset with speed solemnised, for which they and the whole Family of Suffolk paid dear in after time; and had sour sauce to that sweet meat of their great Son in Law  
And surely he was the most unfortunate man in that marriage, being as generally beloved for himself, and disposition, as hated afterwards for his linking himself in that Family; for in all the time of this man's favour, before this Marriage, he did nothing obnoxious to the State, or any base thing for his private gain, but, whether it was his own nature that kerbed him, or that there was then a brave Prince living, and a noble Queen that did awe him, we cannot so easily judge, because after this Marriage, and their death, he did many very ill things.  
In this Favourites flourishing time, came over the Palsgrave to marry our King's Daughter, which for the present, gave much content, and with the general applause; yet it proved a most unfortunate Match to him and his Posterity, and all Christendom; for his Alliance with so many great Princes, put on him aspiring thoughts, and so ambitious was he as not to content himself with his hereditary Patrimony of one of the greatest Princes in Germany; but must aspire to a kingdom, believing that his great alliance would carry him through any enterprise, or bring him off with honour, in both which he failed; being cast out of his own Country with shame, and he and his, ever after, living upon the devotion of other Princes; but had his Father in Law spent half the money in Swords he did in words, (for which he was but scorned) it had kept him in his own inheritance, and saved much Christian blood since shed; but whiles he, being wholly addicted to peace, spent much treasure, in sending costly ambassadors to treat his Enemies (which he esteemed friends) might have sent Armies with a less charge, to conquer, so that it may be concluded, that this than thought the most happy Match in Christendom, was the greatest unhappiness to Christendom, themselves and Posterity.  
And, as if to foretell the sad event, presently after the Gallantry and triumphing of that Marriage, the kingdom was clad all in mourning, for the sad obsequies of that most hopeful Prince Henry, who died not without vehement suspicion of poison, and I wish I could say but suspicion only; but our future discourse will tell you otherwise: He was only showed to this Nation, as the Land of Canaan was to Moses, to look on, not to enjoy: we did indeed joy in that happiness we expected in him, but God found us so unthankful, and took so lightly the death of that ever famous Queen Elizabeth, as he intended, to make us an example of scorn now, that were formerly, of all glory.  
His death was foretold by one Bruce, 
Pr. Henry and Salisbury's death.  a most famous ginger of the Scottish Nation, for which the Earl of Salisbury (a great Statesman) caused him to be banished, who left this farewell with the Earl, that it should be too too true, yet his Lordship should not live to see it, the Earl dying in May, the Prince in November following, to the infinite grief of all the kingdom; but the Earl of Somerset and Family of howard's, who by his death thought themselves secured from all future dangers; for, he being a Prince of an open heart, hating all baseness, would often say, If ever he were King, he would not leave one of that Family to piss against a wall.  
This brave Prince being dead, Summersault and that Faction bare all down before them, disposing of all offices; yet Somerset never turned any out (as did the succeeding favourite) but places being void, he disposed of them, and who would give most, was the word, yet not by Somerset himself, but by his Lady and her Family; for he was naturally of a noble disposition, and it may be justly said of him, that never could be said of any before, or ever will be of any after him; He never got suit for himself or friends that was burdensome to the commonwealth, no Monopolies, no Impositions; yet in his time, and by his favour, (though not for his use) were brought into the Court two mean fellows grand Projectors, the one, Ingram, an ordinary Waiter of the customs, 
Ingram and Cranfield Projectors.  the other, Cranfield, an Apprentice, who had served three broken Citizens, and it is probable by his wit and honesty he might thrive by them all, and lay that for his first a foundation of his future projecting; the one a creature of Northampton's, the other of the house of Suffolk, and these like ill birds defiled their own nests, and discovered the secrets of the Custom house; yet their projects seemed for the King's profit only, though much water ran by his Mill, and Suffolk did very well lick his own fingers; for, Salisbury being dead, Suffolk was Treasurer (the proper place for Customs) and his Son in Law▪ Chamberlain and Favourite, and then what could not they two do?  
Yet Somerset ever kept them but like Projectors, which after Favourites raised to the degrees of Nobility, only Suffolk by Somerset's power made Ingram a Cofferer of the King's House, which was the first apparent step to Somerset's downfall; for, however the King made fair semblance to maintain that Act, yet made he the Earl of Kelly his instrument to set the Officers of his household to petition him against it, and ever from the Kings own directions to take their instructions, in which, one of the Principal given, was, not to seek to Somerset upon any terms, nay, to deny to accept his favour though offered to disannul his own act, but to carry it with an high hand against Somerset, by which, assurance was given of prevailing. Here was pretty juggling; (the Court being then but an Academy of jugglers.) Summersault did often Court the Officers (to make him that Achilles his Weapon, that could wound and heal again) but was entertained with s●orne; yet ambition so dazzled his eyes, he could not see the precipice on which he stood ready for his downfall; for, surely no Astrologers could have given him truer notions of his ruin then this: Cranfield, the other Projector soared higher, though not in Somerset's time could he have his feathers imped, but Buckingham after did so imp them, that Cranfield endeavoured to pull out his, and gave him the first affront; by this you may observe how the times altered from better to worse, and so fittest for worthless men.  
For now began to appear a glimmering of a new Favourite, 
Mr. George Villiers a Favourite.  one Mr. George Villiers, a younger Son, (by a second venture) of an ancient Knight in Leicestershire, as I take it, his Father of an ancient Family, his Mother but of a mean, and a waiting gentlewoman, whom the old man fell in love with and married, by whom he had three sons, all raised to the Nobility, by means of their brother-Favourite: this Gentleman was come also but newly from travel, and at that time did believe it a great fortune to marry a Daughter of Sir Roger Astons, and in truth it was the height of his ambition, and for that only end was an hanger on upon the Court; the Gentlewoman loved him so well, as could all his friends have made (her for her great fortune) but an hundred marks jointure, she had married him presently, in despite of all her friends; and no question would have had him without any jointure at all.  
But, as the Fates would have it, before the closing up of this Match, the King cast a glancing eye towards him, which was easily perceived by such as observed their Prince's humour, and then the Match was laid aside, some assuring him a greater Fortune was coming towards him. Then, one gave him his place of cupbearer, that he might be in the King's eye; another sent to his Mercer and tailor to put good clothes on him; a third, to his Sempster for curious linen, and all as prefacive insinuations to obtain Offices upon his future Rise; than others took upon them to be his Bravoes, to undertake his quarrels upon affronts put on him by Somerset's Faction, so all hands helped to the piecing up this new Favourite.  
Then begun the King to eat abroad, who formerly used to eat in his bedchamber, or if by chance supped in his bedchamber, after supper would come forth to see pastimes and fooleries; in which Sir Ed. Zouch, Sir George Goring, and Sir John Finit were the chief and Master Fools, and surely this Fooling got them more than any others wisdom, far above them in desert: Zouch his part it was to sing bawdy songs, and tell bawdy tales; Finits, to compose these Songs: then was a set of fiddlers brought to Court on purpose for this Fooling, and Goring was Master of the game for Fooleries, sometimes presenting David Droman, and Archee Armstrong the King's fool, on the back of the other fools, to tilt one at another, till they fell together by the ears; sometimes the property was presented by them in antic Dances. But Sir John Millicent (who was never known before) was commended for notable fooling, and so was he indeed the best extemporary fool of them all: with this jollity was this Favourite ushered in. This made the house of Suffolk fret, and Somerset carried himself now more proudly, and his bravadoes, ever quarrelling with the others, which, by his Office of Lord Chamberlain, for a while carried it. But, Summersault using of Sir Ralph Wynwood (whom himself brought in for a Secretary of State) in so scornful a manner (he having but only the title, the Earl himself keeping the seals, and doing the business) made Wynwood endeavour to ruin him, who soon got an opportunity thereto, by frequenting the Countess of Shrewsbury (Than Prisoner in the Tower) who told Wynwood on a time, that Overbury was poisoned, which she had so understood from Sir Gervase Elwaies; who did labour by her means to deal with her two sons in Law, Arundel and Pembroke, (Wynwood also being great-with that faction) that when it came into question, he might save his own stake, who truly was no otherwise guilty, but that he did not discover it at Weston's first disclosing it (He being Keeper of the prison) so by inference, his not disclosing it, was Overbury's death; and had he revealed it then, I dare say he had been brought into the Star-chamber for it, and undone (for yet was not the time fit for discovery.) Wynwood, it was thought, acquainted the King with it, knowing how willingly he would have been rid of Somerset, yet the King durst not bring it in question, nor any question ever would have been, had not Somerset sought to cross him in his passion of love to his new Favourite, in which the King was more impatient, than any woman to enjoy her love.  
Not long after, Thrumball, Agent at Brussels, had (by an apothecary's boy one Reeve, after an Apothecary himself in London, and died very lately) gotten hold of this poisoning business, for Reeve having under his Master, made some of those desperate Medicines, either run away, or else his Master sent him out of the way, and fell in company of Thrumbals servants at Brussels, to whom he revealed it, they to their Master, who examining the boy, discovered the truth; Thrumball presently wrote to Secretary Wynwood he had business of consequence to discover, but would not send it, therefore desired licence to come over. The King would not yield to his return, but willed him to send an express: That Thrumball utterly refused; and very wisely, for had any thing appeared under his hand, the boy might have died, or run away, and then had he made himself the Author of that which the courtesy of another must have justified.  
The King being of a longing disposition, rather than he would not know, admitted Thrumbals return, and now they had good testimony by the Apothecary, who revealed Weston, Mrs. Turner, and Franklyn to be principal Agents, yet this (being near the time of progress) was not stirred in till about Michaelmas following; yet Wynwood did now carry himself in a braving way of contestation against Somerset, struck in with the Faction of Villiers, now on progress. The King he went westward, where he was feasted at Cranborne, by a son in Law of that Family; at Lulworth, and Bindon, by the Lord Walden; at Charlton, by Sir Thomas Howard; and everywhere nothing but one Faction braving the other; then was the King feasted at Purbeck by the Lord Hatton, who was of the contrary Faction, and at a jointure house of Sir George Villiers mother, called Gotly, where he was magnificently entertained.  
After all this feasting, homeward came the King, who desired by all means to reconcile this clashing between his declining, and rising Favourite; to which end, at Lulworth the King employed Sir Humphrey May, a great servant to Somerset, and a wise servant to Villiers, but with such instructions as if it came from himself: and Villiers, had order presently after Sir Humphrey May's return, to present himself and service to Summersault. My Lord, said he, Sir George Villers, will come to you to offer his service, and desire to be your creature; and therefore refuse him not, embrace him, and your Lordship shall still stand a great man, though not the sole Favourite: My Lord seemed averse, Sir Humphrey then told him in plain terms, that he was sent by the King to advise it, and that Villiers would come to him to cast himself into his protection, to take his rise under the shadow of his wings: Sir Humphrey May was not parted from my Lord half an hour, but in comes Sir George Villiers, and used these very words, My Lord, I desire to be your servant, and your creature, and shall desire to take my Court-preferment under your favour, and your Lordship shall find me, as faithful a servant unto you, as ever did serve you. My Lord returned this quick and short answer, I will none of your service, nor shall you have any of my favour, I will, if I can, break your neck, and of that be confident. This was but a harsh compliment, and savoured more of spirit than wisdom; and since that time, breaking each others necks was their aims, and it's verily believed, had Somerset complied with Villiers, Overburyes death had still lain raked up in his own ashes; but, God, who will never suffer murder to go unpunished, will have what he will, maugre all the wisdom of the World.  
To Windsor doth the King return, to end His progress, from thence to Hampton-Court, then to White-Hall, and shortly after to Royston, to begin His Winter-Iourney.  
And now begins the game to be played, in which, Summersault must be the loser, the Cards being shuffled, cut, and dealt between the King and Sir Edward Cook, chief justice (whose Daughter Turbeck, Villers his Brother had married, or was to marry, and therefore a fit instrument to ruin Somerset) and Secretary Winwood; these all played: The stake, Somerset's life, and his Ladies, and their Fortunes, and the Family of Suffolk; some of them played booty, and in truth the Game was not played aboveboard.  
The day the King went from White-Hall to Theobald's, and so to Royston, the King sent for all the Judges (his Lords and Servants encircling him) where kneeling down in the midst of them, he used these very words:  
My Lords the Judges; It is lately come to my hearing, that you have now in examination a business of poisoning: Lord in what a most miserable condition shall this Kingdom be, (the only famous Nation for hospitality in the World) if our Tables should become such a snare, as none could eat without danger of life, and that Italian custom should be introduced amongst us! (Therefore, my Lords, I charge you, as you will answer it at that great and dreadful day of Judgement, that you examine it strictly without favour, affection, or partiality; and if you shall spare any guilty of this crime, God's curse light upon you and your posterity: And if I spare any that are found guilty, God's curse light on me, and my posterity for ever. But how this dreadful thunder-Curse or imprecation was performed, shall be showed hereafter; and I pray God, the effect be not felt amongst us, even at this day (as it hath been, I fear, on that virtuous Lady Elizabeth, and her children,) for God treasures up such imprecations and deprecations, and pours them out when a Nation least dreams, even when they cry, peace, peace, to their souls; and it may well be at this time (our other sins concurring) that he is pouring them out upon King, Judges, and the whole State.  
It appears how unwilling the King was to ruin Summersault, a creature of his own making, But, immedicabile vulnus, Ense rescin●endum est; Grace was offered by the King, had he had grace to have apprehended it.  
The King with this, took his farewell for a time of London, and was accompanied with Somerset to Royston, where no sooner he brought him, but instantly took his leave, little imagining what viper lay amongst the herbs; nor must I forget to let you know how perfect the King was in the art of dissimulation, or, (to give it his own phrase) kingcraft; The Earl of Somerset (to his apprehension) never parted from him with more seeming affection then at this time, when intentionally the King had so exposed him to cooks dressing, that he knew Somerset should never see him more; and had you seen that seeming affection (as the Author himself did) you would rather have believed he was in his rising, then setting: The Earl when he kissed his hand, 
K. James his parting with Somerset▪  the King hung about his neck, slabboring his cheeks; saying, for God's sake when shall I see thee again? On my soul, I shall neither eat, nor sleep, until you come again; the Earl told him, on Monday (this being on the Friday,) for God's sake let me, said the King, shall I? shall I? Then lolled about his neck; then, for God's sake, give thy Lady this kiss for me: in the same manner at the stairs head, at the middle of the stairs, and at the stairs foot; the Earl was not in his Coach, when the King used these very words (in the hearing of four servants, of whom, one was Somerset's great creature, and of the bedchamber, who reported it instantly to the Author of this History) I shall never see his face more. I appeal therefore to the Reader, whether this Motto of Qui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare, was not as well performed in this passage, as his Beati pacifici, in the whole course of his life; and his love to the latter, made him to be beaten with his own weapon in the other, by all Princes and States that had to do with him.  
But, before Somerset's approach to London his Countess was apprehended; at his arrival, himself; and the King being that night at supper, said to Sir Thomas Monson, My Lord chief Justice hath sent for you; he asked the King, when he should wait on him again, who replied, you may come when you can: And (as in the story of Byron, and many others) there have been many foolish observations, as presage; so was there in this Gentleman, who was the King's Mr. Falconer, and in truth such an one, as no Prince in Christendom had; for, what Flights other Princes had, he would excel them for his Master, in which one was at the Kite.  
The French sending over his falconers to show that sport, his Master falconer lay long here, but could not kill one Kite, (ours being more magnanimous than the French Kite; Sir Thomas Monson desired to have that flight in all exquisiteness, and to that end was at 1000. charge in Ger-Faulcons for that flight, in all that charge, he never had but one cast would perform it; and those had killed nine Kites, which were as many as they were put off unto, not any one of them escaping. Whereupon the Earl of Pembroke with all the Lords, desired the King but to walk out of Royston Townes end, to see that Flight, which was one of the most stateliest Flights of the world, for the high mountee: the King went unwillingly forth, the Flight was showed, but the Kite went to such a mountee, and the hawk after her, as all the field lost sight of Kite and hawk and all, and neither Kite nor hawk were either seen or heard of to this present, which made all the Court conjecture it a very ill omen.  
So that you see, the plot was so well laid, as they could be all within the toil at one instant, not knowing of each other.  
Now are in hold, the Earl, his Countess, Sir Thomas Monson, Mris. Turner (a very lewd and infamous woman of life) Weston and Franklin, with some others of less note, of which one Simon a servant to Sir Thomas Monson, who was employed in carrying jelly and Tart to the Tower, who upon his examination, for his pleasant answer, was instantly dismissed, My Lord told him, Simon you have had a hand in this poisoning business; He replied, no, my good Lord, I had but one finger in it, which almost cost me my life, and at the best cost me all my Hair and nails; for the truth was Simon was somewhat liquorish, and finding the syrup swim from the top of a Tart, as he carried it, he did with his finger scum it off, and it was to be believed, had he known what it had been, he would not have been his Taster at so dear a rate; and that you may know Simon's interest with that Family, I shall tell you a story.  
Sir Thomas Monson was a great lover of music, and had as good as England had, especially for voices, and was at infinite charge in breeding some in Italy. This Simon was an excellent Musician, and did sing delicately, but was a more general Musician than ever the world had, and in one kind he surpassed all. He had a Catzo of an immense length and bigness, with this, being his Tabor stick, his palm of his hand his Tabor, and his mouth his Pipe, he would so imitate a Tabor and Pipe, as if it had been so indeed: To this music, would Mrs. Turner, the young Ladies, and some of that Ging dance ever after Supper; the old Lady, who loved that music as well, as her Daughters, would sit and laugh, she could scarce sit for laughing; and it was believed, that some of them danced after that Pipe without the Tabor: his Master coming to hear of it turned him away, who was infinitely importuned to take him again, but would not: however he could not have wanted a service elsewhere, but he never durst use his pipe amongst them, for their dancing recreation, however he might for any other.  
And now poor Mrs. Turner, Weston and Franklin began the Tragedy, Mrs. turner's day of mourning being better than the day of her birth: for she died very penitently, and showed much modesty in her last act, which is to be hoped was accepted with God, after that died Weston; and then was Franklin arraigned, who confessed that Overbury was smothered to death, not poisoned to death; though he had poison given him.  
Here was Cook glad, how to cast about to bring both ends together, Mrs. Turner, and Weston being already hanged for killing Overbury with poison, but he being the very quintessence of Law, presently informs the Jury, that if a man be done to death, with Pistols, Poniards, swords, Halter, poison, &c. so he be done to death, the Indictment is good, if but indicted for any of those ways; but the good Lawyers of those times were not of that opinion, but did believe, that Mrs. Turner was directly murdered by my Lord cook's Law, as Overbury was without any Law.  
In the next place, comes the Countess to her trial, at whose Arraignment, as also at Mrs. Turners before, were showed many Pictures, puppets, &c. with some exorcisms and magic spells, which made them appear more odious, as being known to converse with Witches and Wizards; and amongst those tricks, Formans book was showed. This Forman was a fellow dwelled in Lambeth, a very silly fellow, yet had wit enough to cheat Ladies, and other women, by pretending skill in telling their Fortunes, as, whether they should bury their Husbands, and what second Husbands they should have, and whether they should enjoy their Loves, or whether Maids should get Husbands, or enjoy their servants to themselves without Corrivals; but, before he would tell any thing, they must write their names to his alphabetical book, with their own hand writing; by this trick he kept them in awe, if they should complain of his abusing them, as in truth he did nothing else: Besides, it was believed, some meetings were at his house, wherein the art of a Bawd was more beneficial to him, then that of a Conjurer; and that he was a better Artist in the one than other; and that you may know his skill, he was himself a Cuckold, having a very pretty wench to his Wife, which would say, she did it to try his skill, but it fared with him as with Astrologers, that cannot foresee their own destiny. I well remember, there was much mirth made in the Court, upon the showing this book, for it was reported, the first leaf my Lord Cook lighted on, he found his own wife's name.  
The next that came on the stage was Sir Thomas Monson; but the night before he was to come to his trial, the King being at the game of Maw, said, To morrow comes Tom Monson to his trial; yea, said the King's 
* S. H. M.  Card-holder, where if he do not play his Master-prize, your Majesty shall never trust me; this so run in the King's mind, as the next game, he said he was sleepy, and would play out that Set next night; the Gentleman departed to his lodging, but was no sooner gone, but the King sent for him, what communication they had, I know not, (yet it may be can more easily guess then any other) but it is most certain, next under God, that Gentleman saved his life, for the King sent a Post presently to London, to let the Lord chief justice know, he would see Monson's examination and confession, to see if it were worthy to touch his life, for so small a matter; Monson was too wise to set any thing but fair in his confession; what he would have stabbed with, should have been (viva voce) at his Arraignment. The King sent word, he saw nothing worthy of death, or of bonds, in his Accusation or Examination: Cook was so mad, he could not have his will of Monson, that he said, Take him away, we have other matters against him of an higher nature; with which words, out issues about a dozen Warders of the Tower, and took him from the bar; and Cook's malice was such against him, as though it rained extremely, and Monson not well, he made him go a foot from the Guild-Hall to the Tower, which almost cost him his life; there he lay a close prisoner above three months, to the end to get a Recorders place, (that Cranfield desired) every man thinking him in some Treason, would not lend him any Money, and if so much money had not been paid by such a time, his place had been forfeited. And in this let me commend the part of a true friend in Sir Humphrey May, who in 24 hours, (after Sir Thomas his deep sensibleness of all other his friends deserting him in that great exigency) made his Brother Herick take up 2000 l. and pay it, to save his Office, without so much as any security from Sir Thomas Monson, (for he was close prisoner) or from any friend of his; and that you may know it was for his office only, this hard measure was showed him, the Money was no sooner paid, but his friends might come unto him; and I must not let pass the skill of the Lord Loriskeine, a Scotchman, who long before, by his physiognomy, told Sir George Martial that Sir Thomas Monson would escape hanging nearer than ever any man did, which was true, for he was twice brought to his trial, put himself both times upon his Country, yet was only indicted, never tried, and yet he had harder measure than ever any man had, for he lost his Office, being but indicted, and not condemned, which is without any precedent.  
And now for the last act, enters Summersault himself on the Stage, who (being told, as the manner is, by the Lieutenant, that he must provide to go next day to his trial) did absolutely refuse it, and said, they should carry him in his Bed; that the King had assured him, he should not come to any trial, neither durst the King bring him to trial; this was in an high strain, and in a language not well under stood by Sir George Moor (Than Lieutenant in Elwaies his room) that made Moor quiver and shake, and however he was accounted a wise man, yet he was near at his wit's end.  
Yet away goes Moor to Greenwich, as late as it was (being 12. at night) bounseth at the back-stairs, as if mad, to whom came Jo. Leveston, one of the grooms out of his Bed, inquires the reason of that distemper at so late a season; Moor tells him he must speak with the King; Leveston replies, he is quiet (which in the Scottish dialect, is fast asleep) Moor says, you must awake him; Moor was called in, (the Chamber left to the King and Moor) he tells the King those passages, and desired to be directed by the King, for he was gone beyond his own reason, to hear such bold and undutiful expressions, from a faulty Subject, against a just sovereign: The King falls into a passion of tears: On my soul, Moor, I wot not what to do, thou art a wise man, help me in this great straight, and thou shalt find thou dost it for a thankful Master, with other sad expressions; Moor leaves the King in that passion, but assures him he will prove the utmost of his wit, to serve his Majesty, and was really rewarded with a suit worth to him 1500. l. (although Annandale his great friend, did cheat him of one half, so was there falsehood in friendship.)  
Sir George Moor returns to Somerset about three next morning, 
Somerset's trial.  of that day he was to come to trial, enters Somerset's chamber, tells him he had been with the King, found him a most affectionate Master unto him, and full of grace in his intentions towards him, but (said he) to satisfy justice, you must appear, although return instantly again, without any further proceedings, only you shall know your enemies, and their malice, though they shall have no power over you: With this trick of wit, he allayed his fury, and got him quietly, about eight in the morning, to the Hall, yet feared his former bold language might revert again, and being brought by this trick into the toil, might have more enraged him to fly out into some strange discovery, for prevention whereof he had two servants placed on each side of him, with a Cloak on their arms, giving them withal a peremptory order, if that Somerset did any way fly out on the King, they should instantly hoodwink him with that Cloak, take him violently from the Bar, and carry him away; for which, he would secure them from any danger, and they should not want also a bountiful reward. But the Earl finding himself overreached, recollected a better temper, and went on calmly in his trial, where he held the company until 7. at night. But who had seen the King's restless motion all that day (sending to every Boat he saw landing at the Bridge, cursing all that came without tidings) would have easily judged all was not right, and there had been some grounds for his fears of Somerset's boldness; but at last one bringing him word he was condemned, and the passages, All was quiet. This is the very relation from moors own mouth, and this he told verbatim, in Wanstead Parke, to two Gentlemen (of which the Author was one) who were both left by him to their own freedom, without engaging them, even in those times of high distemperatures, unto a faithful secrecy in concealing it: yet, though he failed in his wisdom, they failed not in that worth inherent in every Noble spirit, never speaking of it till after the King's death.  
And there were other strong inducements, to believe Summersault knew that by the King, he desired none other in the world should be partaker of, and that all was not peace within in the peacemaker himself; for he ever courted Somerset to his dying day, and gave him 4000 l. per annum for fee-farm Rents, after he was condemned, which he took in his servants names, not his own (as then being condemned; not capable of) and he then resolved never to have a pardon. I have heard it credibly reported, he was told by a wizard, that could he but come to see the King's face again, he should be re-invested in his former dearness with him; this had been no hard experiment, but belike he had too much Religion, to trust to wizards, or else some friends of his had trusted them, and been deceived by them, that he had little reason to put confidence in them.  
Many believed him guilty of Overbury's death, but the most thought him guilty only of the breach of friendship (and that in a high point) by suffering his imprisonment, which was the highway to his murder; and this conjecture I take to be of the soundest opinion; for by keeping him out of the action (if it were discovered) his greatness fortified with innocency, would carry their nocencies through all dangers. For the Gentleman himself, he had misfortune enough to marry such a woman, in such a Family, which first undermined his Honour, afterwards his life, (at least to be dead in Law;) nor did any thing reflect upon him in all his time of Favourite, but in, and by that Family; first in his adulterous marriage, then in so hated a Family, and the bringing in Cranfield and Ingram, as Projectors, all by his Wives and friends means; otherwise had he been the bravest Favourite of our time, full of Majesty, employing his time like a Statesman, and the King kept correspondency with him by Letters, almost weekly, to his dying day.  
And here have we brought this great man's glory to its period, with his fatal Countess, who some years after it, died miserably at Chiswick. Mris. Turner, Weston, Franklin and Elwayes died in the Tower, Weston ever saying, it never troubled him to die for the Blue Ribbons sake: and so was concluded that grand business, the gross production of a then foul State and Court, wherein, Pride, Revenge and Luxury abounded. Yet, and it's verily believed, when the King made those terrible Imprecations on himself, and Deprecations of the judges, it was intended the Law should run in its proper channel, but was stopped and put out of course by the folly of that great clerk though no wise man, Sir Edward Cook, who, in a vainglorious speech, to show his vigilancy, enters into a rapture as he then sat on the Bench, saying, God knows what became of that sweet Babe Prince Henry (but I know somewhat;) & surely, in searching the Cabinets, he lighted on some Papers that spoke plain in that which was ever whispered; which had he gone on in a gentle way, would have fall'n in of themselves, not to have been prevented, but this folly of his tongue, stopped the breath of that discovery, of that so foul a murder, which, I fear, cries still for vengeance.  
And now begins the new Favourite to reign, without any concurrent; now he rises in honour, as well as swells with pride, breaking out of those modest bounds, (which formerly had impaled him) to the highway of pride and scorn, turning out, and putting in all he pleased: First, he must aspire to the admiral's Office himself, and would not let the old Gentleman (so well deserving in that place) die with that Title, but the King must put himself to a great charge, to put out the better, and take in the worse; yet for all his immense greatness, would he never let him be Admiral; until he had first settled Sir Robert Mansell vice-admiral of England, during his life, by Patent, in which, he not only manifested his love to his Noble friend, though sometime his servant, but his care to the State, that his experience and abilities, might support the others inabilities; well knowing, that the Honour and safety of the kingdom, consisted in the wel-ordering and strength of the Navy.  
Next, Egerton had displeased him by not giving way to his exorbitant desires, he must out, and would not let him seal up his dying eyes, with the seals which he had so long carried, and so well discharged; and to despite him the more, and to vex his very soul in the last Agony, he sent Bacon (one he hated yet, to be his Successor) for the seals, which the old mansspirit could not brook, but sent them by his own servant to the King, and shortly after yielded his soul to his Maker.  
And to the end you may know what men were made choice of, to serve turns, I shall set you down a true story: This great Favourite sent a Noble Gentleman, and of much worth to Bacon, with this Message, 
Buckingham's Message to Bacon.  that he knew him to be a man of excellent parts, and as the times were, sit to serve his Master in the keeper's place, but he also knew him of a base and ingrateful disposition, and an arrant Knave, apt in his prosperity, to ruin any that had raised him from adversity; yet for all this, he did so much study his Master's service (knowing how fit an instrument he might be for him) that he had obtained the seals for him; but with this assurance, should he ever requite him, as he had done some others to whom he had been more bound, he would cast him down as much below scorn, as he had now raised him high above any Honour he could ever have expected.  
Bacon was at that time Attorney general, 
Bacon's Answer.  who patiently hearing this Message, replied, I am glad my noble Lord deals so friendly and freely with me, and hath made that choice of so discreet and Noble a friend, that hath delivered his Message in so plain language; but saith he, can my Lord know these abilities in me? and can he think when I have! attained the highest preferment my profession is capable of, I shall so much fail in my judgement, and understanding, as to lose these abilities? and by my miscarriage to so noble a Patron, cast myself headlong from the top of that honour, to the very bottom of contempt and scorn? Surely, my Lord cannot think so meanly of me. The Gentleman replied, I deliver you nothing from myself, but the words are put into my mouth by his Lordship, to which I neither add nor diminish; for, had it been left to my discretion, surely, though I might have given you the substance, yet should I have apparelled it in a more moddest attire; but as I have faithfully delivered my Lords to you, so will I as faithfully return yours to his Lordship.  
You must understand the reason of this Message, was, his ungratefulness to Essex, which every one could remember, for the Earl saved him from starving, and he requited him so, as his Apology must witness; were there not a great fault, there needed no Apology; nor could any age, but a worthless, and corrupt, in men and manners, have thought him worthy such a place of honour.  
Well, Lord Keeper he was, for which he paid nothing, nor was he able; for now was there a new trick to put in dishonest and necessitous men, to serve such turns, as men of plentiful fortunes, and fair reputations, would not accept of; and this filled the Church and commonwealth full of beggarly fellows (such daring to venture on any thing) having nothing to lose; 
Buckingham's course to raise his kindred.  (for it is riches makes men cowards; Poverty, daring and valiant, to adventure at any thing to get something) yet did not Buckingham do things gratis, but, what their purses could not stretch unto, they paid in pensions out of their places, all which went to maintain his numerous beggarly kindred; Bacon paid a Pension, Heath (Attorney) paid a Pension, Bargrave (Deane) paid a Pension, with many others: Nor was this any certain rule, for present portions must be raised, for the Marriage of a poor kitchen Maid, to be made a great Count esse; so Fotherbie made Bishop of Sarum, paid 3500. l. and some also, worthy men, were preferred gratis, to blow up their Fames, and Trumpet forth their nobleness (as Tolson, a worthy man, paid nothing in Fine or Pension; after him, Davenant, in the same bishopric;) but these were but as music before every scene; nor were fines or pensions certain, but where men were rich, there Fines without reservation of rent; where poor, and such as would serve turns, there Pensions; no Fines; so Weston, and many others: There were books of rates on all the Offices, bishoprics, Deaneries in England, that could tell you what Fines, what Pensions, otherwise it had been impossible such a numerous kindred could have been maintained with the three kingdom's Revenue.  
Now was Bacon invested in his Office, and, within ten days after, the King goes to Scotland; Bacon instantly begins to believe himself King, lies in the King's Lodgings, gives audience in the great Banqueting House, makes all other councillors attend his motions, with the same state the King used to come out, to give audience to ambassadors; when any other counsellor sat with him about the King's affairs, would (if they sat near him) bid them know their distance; upon which, Secretary Wynwood rose, went away, and would never sit more (under his encroached State) but instantly dispatched one to the King, to desire him to make haste back, for even his very Seat was already usurped: At which, I remember, the King reading it unto us, both the King and we were very merry; and if Buckingham had sent him any Letters, would not vouchsafe the opening or reading them in public, though, it was said, requiring speedy dispatch, nor would vouchsafe him any answer. In this posture he lived, until he heard the King was returning, and began to believe the Play was almost at an end, he might personate a King's part no longer, and therefore did again reinvest himself with his old rags of baseness, which were so tattered and poor at the Kings coming to Windsor; he attended two days at Buckingham's Chamber, being not admitted to any better place, than the room where Trencher-scrapers and lackeys attended, there sitting upon an old wooden chest, (amongst such as for his baseness, 
He is scorned.  were only fit companions, although the Honour of his place did merit far more respect) with his Purse and seal lying by him, on that chest; myself told a servant of my Lord of Buckingham's, it was a shame to see the Purse and seal of so little value or esteem in his Chamber, though the carrier, without it, merited nothing but scorn, being worst among the basest. He told me they had command it must be so; after two days he had admittance: at first entrance he fell down flat on his face at the Duke's foot, kissing it, vowing never to rise till he had his pardon, than was he again reconciled, and since that time so very a slave to the Duke, and all that Family, that he durst not deny the command of the meanest of the kindred, nor oppose anything; by this you see, a base spirit is ever most concomitant with the proudest mind, and surely never so many brave parts, and so base and abject a spirit tenanted together in any one earthen Cottage, as in this one man: I shall not remember his baseness, being out of his place, of pinning himself, for very scraps, on that Noble Gentleman, Sir Julius Caesar's Hospitality, that at last he was forced to get the Kings Warrant to remove him out of his house; yet in his prosperity, the one being Chancellor, and the other Master of the Rolls, did so scorn and abuse him, as he would alter any thing the other did.  
And now Buckingham having the Chancellor, Treasurer, and all great Officers his very slaves, swells in the height of pride, summons up all his Country kindred, the old Countess providing a place for them to learn to carry themselves in a courtlike garb, but because they could not learn the French Dances so soon as to be suitable to their gay Clothes, Country Dances (for their sakes only) must be the garb of the Court, and none else must be used.  
Then must these women-kindred be married to Earls, Earl's eldest sons, Barons, or chief Gentlemen of greatest estates, insomuch that the very female kindred were so numerous, as were sufficient to have peopled any Plantation; nay, very kitchen-wenches were married to knight's eldest sons; yet, as if England had not matches enough in the kingdom, they married like the house of Austria, in their own kindred, witness the Earl of Anglesea, married a x German, to whom he had given earnest before; so that King James, that naturally, in former times, hated women, had his Lodgings replenished with them, and all of the Kindred. The Brethren, great Earls. Little children did run up and down the King's Lodgings, like little Rabbitstarters about their boroughs: Here was a strange change, that the King, who formerly would not endure his Queen and children in his Lodgeings, now you would have judged, that none but women frequented them; nay, that was not all, but the kindred had all the houses about White-Hall (as if they had been Bulwarks and Flankers to that citadel.) But, above all the Miracles of those times, old Sir Anthony Ashley, who never loved any but boys, yet he was snatched up for a kinswoman, as if there had been a concurrency thorough the Kingdom, that those that naturally hated women, yet should love his kindred, as well as the King him.  
And the very old Midwives of that kindred, flocked up for preferment, of which old Sir Christopher Perkins, a woman-hater, that never meant to marry, nay it was said, he had made a vow of Virginity, yet was coupled to an old Midwife, so that you see the greatness of this Favourite, who could force (by his power over the King) though against Nature.  
But I must tell you, this got him much hatred, to raise brothers, and brothers-in-law to the highest rank of Nobility, which were not capable of the place, of scarce a justice of the Peace, only his brother Purbeck had more wit and honesty than all the kindred beside, and did keep him in some bounds of honesty and modesty, whilst he lived about him, and would speak plain English to him: for which plainness, when they had no colour to put him from his brother, they practised to make him mad, and thought to bring that wicked stratagem to effect, by countenancing a wicked Woman, his Wife, the Lord cook's Daughter against him, even in her base and lewd living.  
And now is Purbeck mad indeed, and put from Court. Now, none great with Buckingham, but Bawds and Parasites, and such as humoured him in his unchaste pleasures; so that since his first being a pretty, harmless, affable Gentleman, he grew insolent, cruel, and a monster not to be endured.  
And now is Williams, sometimes chaplain to the Lord Keeper Egerton, brought into play, made a privy-counsellor, Deane of Westminster, and of secret council with the King, he was also made Bishop of Lincoln, and was generally voiced at his first step, to marry Buckingham's Mother, who was in her husband's time, created a Countess (he remaining still) a C. silly drunken sot) and this was the first precedent of this kind ever known. Williams held her long in hand, and no doubt, in nature of her Confessor, was her secret friend, yet would not marry at present: which, afterwards, was cause of his downfall.  
Then was there a Parliament summoned, in which, Bacon for his bribery and injustice, was thrust out, being closely prosecuted by one Morby a Woodmonger, and one Wrenham, formerly deeply censured in the Star-Chamber for accusing him of bribery and injustice; Bacon was by Parliament justly put out of his place, and but only for the Votes of the Bishops, had been degraded; the Bishops might have done better to have kept their voices to have done themselves service at this time, but surely that, with some other injustice of theirs, had so filled up their measure of iniquity, that now God's anger is kindled against them.  
In Bacon's place comes Williams, a man on purpose brought in at first to serve turns, but in this place to do that which none of the laity could be found bad enough to undertake, whereupon this observation was made, that first, no layman could be found so dishonest as a Clergy man; next, as Bacon the Father of this Bacon, did receive the seals from a Bishop, so a Bishop again received them from a Bacon; and at this did the Lawyers fret, to have such a flower pulled out of their Garland.  
This Williams, though he wanted much of his Predecessors abilities for the Law, yet did he equal him for learning and pride, and beyond him in the way of bribery, this man answering by Petitions, in which his servants had one part, himself another, and so was calculated to be worth to him & his servants 3000. l. per annum, by a new way never found out before.  
And now being come to the height of his preferment, he did estrange himself from the company of the old Countess, having much younger ware, who had keys to his chamber to come to him, yet was there a necessity of keeping him in this place for a time, the Spanish Match being yet in chase, and if it succeeded, this man was to clap the great seal (through his ignorance in the laws) to such things that none that understood the danger by knowing the laws, would venture upon, and for this design was he at first brought in, (no Prince living knowing how to make use of men, better than King James.)  
Now was also Suffolk turned out of his place of Lord Treasurer, and a fellow (of the same Batch that Williams was) brought into his place, Cranfield, that was the Projector, and never could get higher than that title in Somerset's time▪ now marrying one of Buckingham's kindred, attained one of the highest Titles in the kingdom; so that it was now generally said, that for pride and baseness these two grea● places were never so suited, both of mean birth, both proud, only the one an excellent scholar, and of great parts; the other, nothing but a pack of ignorance soldered together with impudence to raise him (besides his marriage in the lusty kindred.)  
This Cranfield was a fellow of so mean a condition, as none but a poor spirited Nobility would have endured his perching on that high Tree of honour, to the dishonour of the Nobility, the disgrace of the Gentry, and not long after, to his own dishonour, who was thrust out of the Lord's House with this censure, that Thou Lionel, Earl of Middlesex, shalt never sit, or have voice more in this House of peers, and shalt pay for a fine to our sovereign Lord the King. 20000 l. leaving him still to overtop the Gentry. The Bishops kept him also from degrading, which I do verily believe is one cause the Gentry will degrade them.  
The Spanish Match, 
The Prince goes into Spain.  having been long in Treaty, and it being suspected now, that the Spaniard did juggle with the State in this, as they formerly did in a Match with that brave Prince Henry, and in truth, in all other things wherein any negotiation had been, only feeding the King with fair hopes, and fair words, yet foul deeds. Whether the King suspected any such matter, or any whimsy came in the brain of this great Favourite and Prince, to imitate the old stories of the Knights Erland, but agreed it was (it should seem) between the Favourite and the Prince only (no one other so much as dreaming of any such adventure except Cottington, that the Prince must go himself into Spain: away they went under the borrowed names of Jack and Tom Smith, to the amazement of all wise men, only accompanied with Cottington, and some one or two more at most; taking their way by France, they had the Ports laid so, that none should follow them, or give any notice to the French Court, till they might get the start, &c. yet their wisdoms made them adventure to stay in the French Court, and look on that Lady whom he after married, and there did this Mars imitate one of Prince Arthurs Knights, in seeking adventures through foreign princes' territories; First beheld this French beauty, Mars vidit, visamque cupit, potiturque cupita: as in our discourse will afterward appear; from thence away to Spain; but as the Journey was only plotted by young heads, so it was so childishly carried, that they escaped the French Kings Curriers very narrowly, but escape they did, and arrived safely in Spain their wished Port, before either welcome, or expected, by our ambassadors, or that State.  
Yet now must the best face be put on, at all hands, that put their Grandees to new shifts, and our ambassador the Earl of Bristol to try his wit, for at that time was Sir Walter Aston also ambassador at Spain, in all occurrences Aston complied with the Prince and Duke, Bristol ran counter; and the Duke and Bristol hated each other mortally.  
Bristol had the advantage of them there, as having the much better headpiece, and being more conversant and dear with that State, wholly complying with them, and surely had done them very acceptable services (and in this very Treaty was of the pack) Buckingham had the advantage of him in England (although the King did now hate Buckingham, yet was so awed that he durst not discover it) Then Buckingham had all interest in his Successor by this journey, so that he laid a present and future foundation of his succeeding greatness.  
For all his power and greatness Bristol did not forbear to put all scorns, affronts, and tricks on him, and Buckingham lay so open, as gave the other advantage enough by his lascivious carriage, and miscarriage. Amongst all his tricks, he plays one so cunningly, that it cost him all the hair on his head, and put him to the diet; for it should seem he made court to Conde Olivares wife, a very handsome Lady; But it was so plotted betwixt the Lady, her Husband and Bristol, that instead of that beauty, he had a notorious S●ewsbird sent him, and surely, by reason of his said loose and vicious disposition; had ever the Match been really intended for our Prince, yet such a Companion or Guardian, was enough to have made that wary Nation, believe that he had also been that way addicted; and so have frustrated the Marriage (that being a grave and sober people, now especially when conversed with by such great foreign guests) but they well observed the Prince himself to be of an extraordinary well stayed temper.  
But now, many Lords flocked over, and many Servants, that he might appear the Prince of England, and like himself, though he came thither like a private person, many Treaties were, sometimes hope, sometimes despair, sometimes great assurance, then all dashed again, and however, his entertainment was as great as possible that State could afford; yet was his addresses to, and with, the Lady, such as rendered him mean, and a private person, rather than a Prince of that State that formerly had made Spain feel the weight of their anger, and power; and was like a Servant, not a Suitor, for he never was admitted, but to stand barehead in her presence, nor to talk with her, but in a full audience with much company.  
At last, after many heats and cools, many hopes, and despairs, the Prince wrote a letter to his Father of a desperate despair, not only of not enjoying his Lady, but of never more returning, with this passage, You must now, Sir, look upon my Sister and her children, forgetting ever you had such a Son, and never thinking more of me.  
Now the folly of this voyage, plotted only by green heads, began to appear, many showing much sorrow, many smiling at their folly (and in truth glad in their hearts) and however the King was a cunning dissembler, and showed much outward sorrow, as he did for Prince Henry's death, yet something was discerned, which made his Court believe little grief came near his heart, for that hatred he bare to Buckingham long (as being satiated with him) and his adoring the rising sun, not looking after the sun setting, made the world believe he would think it no ill bargain to lose his Son, so Buckingham might be lost also, for had he not been weary of Buckingham, he would never have adventured him in such a journey, all his Courtiers knew that very well.  
And for a further illustration of his weariness of Buckingham, It appeared in the Parliament before, when the King gave so much way to his ruin, that Buckingham challenged him that he did seek his ruin, and being generally held as a lost man, the King (to make it appear it was not so, although, as hereafter you shall understand, it was so, and that the King durst not avow his own act,) brought him off from that Parliament, but Buckingham hated the King ever afterwards.  
The reason the King so hated Buckingham, (besides his being weary of him, for his now staleness, was his marriage, after which the King's edge was ever taken off from all Favourites as well as him; yet this had so much the over awing power of him, that he durst not make show to affect any other,) there was one Inniossa a Spanish ambassador extraordinary here, beingan old Soldier and a gallant fellow, who thought that Buckingham did not give that respect to him was due to his own person, or to the person of so great a King whose person he represented; Inniossa therefore did as much scorn and slight Buckingham & the Prince whom he sound wholly governed by Buckingham; for now Buckingham had found, by many passages, the Kings desire to be rid of him, he made Court to the Prince, and so wrought himself into his affection, that Damon and Pythias were not more dear each to other, which by no means could the old King away with, nor in truth did any other like or approve of the Prince his poor spirit, fearing it foretold his future inclination, that could ever endure any familiarity with such an one, as had put such foul scorns and affronts on him in his time of greatness with the Father: especially, such as called to mind the bravery of his brother, who hated the whole Family for their general baseness, although none of them had ever offended him in particular, as this man had done the Prince at two several times, once, before an infinite concourse, by bidding him in plain terms kiss his Arse; a second time, offering to strike him, saying in most undutiful terms, By God it shall not be so, nor you shall not have it, lifting up his hand over his head with a Ballon-Bracer, that the Prince said, What, my Lord, I think you intend to strike me: The first of these audacious affronts was at Royston, the second at Greenwich, before about 400. people. Neither of which were to be endured by a private person, but by a Prince from a private person, surely it showed a much less spirit than should have been inherent to a Prince, and after this, to be so dear with him, as to be governed by him all his life time, more than his Father was in the prime of his affection, I can give it no title mean enough; it had been worthy the Noble mind of a Prince to have forgotten such injuries, as never to have revenged them when he had been King, but never to have suffered him to have come near his Court, to upbraid him with the sight of so much scorn, and that publicly offered him before: But at that time I well remember some critics in Court did not stick to read his future destiny.  
This Inniossa being a brave daring Gentleman, used some speeches in the derogation of the Prince and Buckingham, as if they were dangerous to the old King; nay, Inniossa sent one Padro Macestria (a Spanish Jesuit, and a great statesman) to King James, to let him know, that he, (under confession) had found the King was by Buckingham, or by his procurement, to be killed, but whether by poison, pistol, Dagger, &c. that he could not tell.  
The King, after the hearing of this, was extreme melancholy, and in that passion was found by Buckingham at his return to him. The King, as soon as ever he espied him, said, Ah Stenny, Stenny, (for so he ever called him in familiarity,) wilt thou kill me? at which Buckingham started, and said, who, Sir, hath so abused you? at which the King sat silent; out went Buckingham, sretting and fuming, asked, who had been with the King in his absence? It was told him Padro Macestria, than who brought him to the King? it was replied, the Earl of Kelly; then flew Buckingham on him, to know how he durst bring any one in to the King in his absence, or without his licence? Kelly stood up close to him (for you must know, Kelly was the truest alarum to give warning of the downfall of a Favourite, of any in the Court) and knew his power could do him no hurt with the King, in present; although it utterly cast him out of all favour from the King in future.  
Then Buckingham questioned Padro Macestria, but that quarrel was interposed and undertook by Inniossa, who told him he would maintain him a traitor, and that, were his Master's person off him; he was a Chivalier, and better borne then himself, and would make it good on him with his Sword.  
Which high comparison (though I believe true enough) together with his generous Charge and Challenge, Buckingham for that time swallowed, and only thought of this shift to vindicate himself on Inniossa, which was, to cause the Prince to write a Letter of complaint to the King of Spain, for abusing him and Buckingham; but the King of Spain returned the Letter in a kind of scorn, to Inniossa, not as blaming him, but rather commending him; and Inniossa in scorn sent it to the Prince, as if he should say, there is your Letter to wipe—, which is all it is fit for.  
Now have you heard what made the King hate Buckingham, you shall also hear the reason of Buckingham's extreme hatred to the King, which was believed the cause of his so speedy death. Yeluerton, a very faithful servant to the King, and his attorney General, and no less affectionate to Summersault, being formerly raised by him without any seeking of his, or so much as within his thought, insomuch as to express his love to Somerset, he desired to lay down that great place, rather than aggravate, as his place required, against him. This man, as well out of his faithfulness to the King, as affection to Somerset, was made choice of, to work the downfall of Buckingham, in which he apparently showed himself. But Buckingham, as I told you before, out of the King's fear, that durst not maintain his own design, but left his Instruments to the mercy of Buckingham's tyranny, being once gotten out of the toil, like a chased boar, foamed, and bit at all came near him, and amongst them first fastened on Yeluerton, put him out of his place, and committed him close Prisoner to the Tower; Yeluerton having showed himself so faithful to his Master, and he again so unfaithful to him, to leave him to undergo the whole burden of Buckingham's fury, did fly out in some passion before Sir Allen Appesly, than Lieutenant of the Tower, and Buckingham's great creature.  
Appesly telling the Duke of some passages in his passion, the Duke one night about 12. a clock came in a a disguise, and with the Lieutenant only, entered Yelvertons longing, Yeluerton at first sight started, verily believing, he came in that manner to murder him; yet, at last recollected himself, and said: My Lord, have you the King's Warrant for this? the Duke said, no; then said Yeluerton, how dare you enter a close prisoners lodging? it is as much as your life is worth: And assure yourself Master Lieutenant, the King shall know of this, and you must answer it. My Lord said, I come to you (as a friend, though, formerly, I confess, upon just cause, your mortal enemy;) only to ask you but two questions, which if you will resolve me, I vow to be a greater friend now then ever an enemy, and can, and will restore you fourfold: Yeluerton told him, if they were such as he might, he would.  
The first he asked was, What wrong he had ever done him, that he so greedily thirsted after his blood? Yeluerton replied, never any, but I was set on by a power that I could not withstand, to do what I did; he asked him by whom? by the King your Master, said he, who hates you more than any man living, which you might well understand, when in his Speech to the Parliament, he said, he would not spare any (no not any that were dearest to him, or lay in his bosom) by which he pointed them to you.  
Well, said Buckingham, I see you have dealt like a Friend with me, by many other concurrences as well as by this; give me your hand, henceforth you are my friend, and I am yours; and I will raise you highet than I have cast you down: which he had made good, had Yeluerton lived to have enjoyed it, for he was instantly released, and the next preferment he gratified him with was a judge's place, and he had been Lord Keeper, had not death prevented it. And if there were no other reason, but his change from a mortal enemy to so firm a friend, this were sufficient to confirm the truth of this story. But the author had this from Yelvertons own relation, and cannot commend Yeluerton, because it is verily believed this hastened the King's death.  
Now have you heard the true causes of Buckingham's hatred to the King, and the Kings to Buckingham, the King having the more power to revenge, had the less courage; Buckingham less power, but more courage, sharpened with revenge: And however the World did believe the King's inclination was out of a religious ground, that he might not revenge, yet it was no other but a cowardly disposition that dust not adventure; But although the King lost his opportunity on Buckingham, yet the black plaster and powder did show Buckingham lost not his on the King; and that it was no fiction but a reality, that Padro Macestria had formerly told the King.  
And now to return from this digression, which is not impertinent, (besides a great secret,) the Prince returns from Spain, contrary to expectation; in which the wisdom and gravity of the Spaniard failed him, especially if they did believe Padro Macestria (besides nature could not long support the old King) and then the Spaniard might have made no little advantage by enjoying such a pledge: But they have confessed their error, yet do palliate it with having the Prince his faith and his proxy left with Digby, and got thence with the very same trick Sir Francis Michael said, he got out of the Inquisition at Rome.  
Now is all the fault laid on Digby's false play and unfaithfulness to his Master, and combining with the Spaniard, and by this piece of service expressing his hatred to the Spaniard for his own ends (the Subjects of England having ever naturally hated them) Buckingham, the most hated man then living, from an accused man in the former Parliament, came to be the very darling of this Parliament, and a favourite to the whole kingdom, which after King James his death he as soon lost again, (so inconstant are the multitude.)  
In the banqueting-house before both Houses of Parliament, is Buckingham to give an account of this voyage, which he did at large, and to every full point as a further attestation, he saith, how say you Sir? to which the Prince answered, I, yea, or yes, and through all his discourse laboured to make Bristol as hateful to this Parliament, as himself had been to the former: which, had these things delivered by him, and attested by the Prince, been truths; he had justly deserved death, the accusations were foul, and little less than treason, without any legislative power.  
Digby had some friends who instantly sent this Declaration into Spain, Digby acquaints that King, takes his leave of him for England: that King sets his danger before him, offers if he will stay with him, seeing it is for his sake he is like to suffer, he would make him much greater in Honour and fortune than his Master can do; Digby gives him thanks, but says, he served so just a Master that would not condemn him unheard, and should he, yet he had much rather suffer under innocency, then lie under the imputation of a false accusation of a fugitive, and traitor, for the highest preferment in the World.  
Away therefore comes he, puts himself into a desperate passage, lest the Parliament should have been dissolved before his coming, and so no place or means left him for his defence, but must lie under those false calumnies, and was here (as the Prince came into Spain) sooner than either looked for, or welcome.  
Into the Parliament comes he, with his Hat full of papers, where he puts himself upon this point, that if there were one syllable true that Buckingham had delivered, if this (holding up a Paper in his hand) be a true copy; I will yield myself guilty of all treasons can be laid to my charge, and said, these papers, (pointing to his Hat) shall make it manifest: Besides, some of them shall make Buckingham appear a very monster in his lascivious carriages, too too unchaste for the ears of this Honourable Assembly: Bristol was instantly committed close prisoner to the Tower for a contempt; the next day he was riding through Cheapside in his Coach, by which it appears Buckingham's power was in: the wane with his old Master, his relation and accusation being scandalous and false; nor ever durst he bring Bristol to any further trial.  
Whether this wound was deeper given by Bristol to Buckingham, or the Prince, I will leave to the reader to judge, and will not myself determine; And how Bristol hath since stood in favour with the Prince, since he was King, may give a conjecture, that he took it as a wound to himself, I am sure it was an ill omen, and hath since given him less credit with his Subjects.  
And in this Parliament doth Buckingham by his underhand Ministers and Agents, 
Cranfield accused in parliament  accuse Cranfield the Lord Treasurer, in which the Prince also shows himself: Cranfield was so hated a fellow for his insolency, that a small accusation would serve the turn, as this truly was, had his care of expending the King's Treasure been out of a true zeal: for it should seem that the Prince sending for moneys, Cranfield restrained his express, using some words, that the journey itself was foolishly undertaken, and now must be maintained by prodigality, in which the Revenue of the Kingdom would not satisfy their vast expenses; if this had been spoken out of a Noble mind, or out of that feeling he had of the kingdom's misery (as being Treasurer he ought to have done) had he fallen, it had been with honour and a general compassion, but being spoken out of the pride and insolency of his own heart, whose mind was ever so base, as never to discern what Honour was, nor ever had he any other inherent Honour than what in his apprenticeship he raked out of the Kennel; besides it was known to be out of hatred, that he was not of council in the undertaking, he then looking at himself as the only statesman of all the council: He fell without pity, and with much scorn, as I formerly set down; yet left in a higher estate, and better condition than so worthless a fellow, and base Projector deserved, yet afterwards he was again questioned upon his accounts: But all this was nothing, himself, and his Posterity being left peers of the realm.  
In this case was the Prince a principal actor, and did duly keep the earliest hours to sit in that Parliament, where, than he discerned so much juggling even to serve his own ends on Cranfield, that it was not much to be wondered at, being come to be King, he did not affect them: And it was not well that a Prince should show so much spleen, though Cranfield deserved any ill could be cast on him, and who knows whether God doth now punish by Tallion Law, to call his own sin to remembrance, and to repent?  
In this place I hold it not unfit to show the Reader how the King hath ever been abused, and would be abused, by overmuch credulity, in the treaty of Spain for marriages, as well as in all other Negotiations.  
You shall now perceive how the King was abused in this treaty, which was an error inexcusable, in himself and whole council. The Italians having a proverb, He that deceives me once, it's his fault, but if twice, it's my fault: this second time therefore could not but be the only fault of the King and council.  
In Prince Henry his life time, the King had a little man, but a very great and wise counsellor, his Secretary of State, little Salisbury, that great statesman, who did inherit all his father's wisdom, as well as his Offices, and the son came little short of the father, who was held the greatest statesman in the world, of his time. It is true, that one State may abuse another, but, not to find out the abuse, is an unpardonable fault in any Statesman.  
There was a treaty in the like case for Prince Henry, Salisbury instantly discovered the juggling before any other did think of any, for although it went forward currently, yet did Salisbury so put the Duke of Lerma unto it, that either it must be so, or they must confess their juggling.  
The Duke of Lerma denied that ever there had been any treaty, or any intention from that State; Salisbury sent for the ambassador to a full council, told him how he had abused the King & State, about a treaty for Marriage, which he had no Commission for; that therefore he was liable to the laws of our kingdom; for where any ambassador doth abuse a State by their Mrs. Commission, than the servant was freed; but without Commission, was culpable and liable to be punished by the laws of that State, as being disavowed to be servant to the King his Master: The ambassador answered gravely, he did not understand the cause of his coming, therefore was then unprepared to give any answer, but on Monday he would again come, this being Saturday, and give his answer. On Monday he comes, begins with these words, My soul is my God's, my life my Masters, my reputation my own, I will not forfeit the first and last, to preserve the second; Then lays down his Commission, and Letters of instruction, under the Duke of Lerma's own hand: he acquitted himself honestly to this State, yet lost his own, being instantly sent for home, where he lived and died in disgrace. Here was Legatus vir bonus peregrè missus, sed non ad mentiendum reipublicae causa: And had we had as honest and good Statesmen, in after times (as Salisbury was, and so demonstrated himself in this weighty affair) this State could not have been so abused in all Treaties.  
By this you see the advantage and benefit of one wise counsellor in a whole State; and although Solomon say, By the multitude of Counsellors doth a kingdom flourish, yet surely he intended they should be wise men that are counsellors; for we had such a multitude of counsellors, that a longer table, and a larger council-chamber was provided, yet our State was so far from flourishing, that it had been almost utterly destroyed; this was the last Statesman worthy of that name; and now are the ancient stock of Statesmen decayed, and with them all our honour and glory.  
I shall now bring my Story to an end, as I shall this King's life; although I have made some digressions, yet all pertinent to the discourse of this King's reign.  
He now goes to his last Hunting journey, I mean the last of the year, (as well as of his life) which he ever ended in Lent; and was seized on by an ordinary and moderate Tertian Ague, which at that season, according to the Proverb, was physic for a King, but it proved not so to him; and poor King, what was but physic to any other, was made mortal to him! yet not the Ague, as himself confessed to a servant of his now living, who cried, courage Sir, this is but a small fit, the next will be none at all, at which he most earnestly looked, and said, Ah, it is not the Ague afflicteth me, but the black plaster and powder given me, and laid to my stomach; and in truth, the plaster so tormented him, that he was glad to have it pulled off, & with it the skin also; nor was it fair dealing, if he had fair play (which himself suspected) often saying to Montgomery, whom he trusted above all men, in his sickness, for God's sake, look I have fair play) to bring in an Emprick, to apply any Medicines, whilst those physicians appointed to attend him, were at dinner; nor could any but Buckingham answer it with less than his life at that present, as he had the next Parliament, had it not been dissolved upon the very questioning him for the King's death, and all those that prosecuted him, utterly disgraced and banished the Court.  
Buckingham coming into the King's Chamber, even when he was at the point of death, and an honest servant of the Kings crying: Ah my Lord, you have undone us, all his poor servants, although you are so well provided you need not care: At which, Buckingham kicked at him, who caught his foot, and made his head first come to ground, where Buckingham presently rising, run to the dying King's bed side, and cried, Justice, Sir, I am abused by your servant, and wrongfully accused; at which the poor King (become by that time speechless) mournfully fixed his eyes on him, as who would have said, not wrongfully.  
It were worth the knowledge, what his confession was, or what other expressions he made of himself, or any other; but that was only known to the dead Archbishop Abbot, and the Bishop Williams then also Lord Keeper, and it was thought Williams had blabbed something which incensed the King's anger, and Buckingham's hatred so much against him, that the loss of his place could not be expiatory sufficient, but his utter ruin must be determined, and that not upon any known crime, but upon circumstances, and examinations, to pick out faults, committed in his whole life time; but his greatest crime for the present, (no question) was lapsus linguae, but quod defertur non aufertur, for although he escaped by the calm of that Parliament, yet is he more ruined by this Parliament, and his own folly; and truly we may observe the just Judgement of God on him, for flying from the Parliament his protector, to give wicked counsel to the King, his former prosecutor.  
And now have I brought this great King's reign to an end, in a volant discourse, and shall give you his Character in brief, and so leave him in peace after his life, who was styled the King of peace in his life.   

THE CHARACTER OF KING JAMES.  
THis King's Character is much easier to take then his Picture, for he could never be brought to sit for the taking of that, which is the reason of so few good pieces of him; but his Character was obvious to every eye.  
He was of a middle stature, more corpulent through his clothes then in his body, yet fat enough, his clothes ever being made large and easy, the Doublets quilted for steletto proof, his Breeches in great pleits and full stuffed: he was naturally of a timorous disposition, which was the reason of his quilted Doublets: His eyes large, ever rolling after any stranger came in his presence, insomuch, as many for shame have left the room, as being out of countenance: His Beard was very thin: His Tongue too large for his mouth, which ever made him speak full in the mouth, and made him drink very uncomely, as if eating his drink, which came out into the cup of each side of his mouth: His skin was as soft as taffata sarsenet, which felt so, because he never washed his hands, only rubbed his finger's ends slightly with the wet end of a Napkin: His Legs were very weak, having had (as was thought) some foul play in his youth, or rather before he was born, that he was not able to stand at seven years of age, that weakness made him ever leaning on other men's shoulders, his walk was ever circular, his fingers ever in that walk sidling about his Codpiece: He was very temperate in his exercises, and in his diet, and not intemperate in his drinking, however in his old age, and Buckingham's jovial Suppers, when he had any turn to do with him, made him sometimes overtaken, which he would the very next day remember, and repent with tears; it is true, he drank very often, which was rather out of a custom than any delight, and his drinks were of that kind for strength, as Frontiniack, Canary, High Country wine, Tent Wine, and Scottish Ale, that had he not had a very strong brain, might have daily been overtaken, although he seldom drank at any one time above four spoonfuls, many times not above one or two; He was very constant in all things (his Favourites excepted) in which he loved change, yet never cast down any (he once raised) from the height of greatness, though from their wonted nearness, and privacy; unless by their own default, by opposing his change, as in Somerset's case: yet had he not been in that foul poisoning business; and so cast down himself; I do verily believe not him neither; for all his other favourites he left great in Honour, great in Fortune; and did much love Mountgomery, and trusted him more at the very last gasp, then at the first minute of his Favoriteship: In his diet, apparel, and Journeys, he was very constant; in his apparel so constant, as by his good will he would never change his clothes until worn out to very rags: His Fashion never: Insomuch as one bringing to him a Hat of a Spanish Block, he cast it from him, swearing he neither loved them nor their fashions. Another time, bringing him Roses on his shoes, he asked, if they would make him a ruff-footed-dove? one yard of six penny Ribbond served that turn: His diet and journeys was so constant, that the best observing Courtier of our time was wont to say, were he asleep seven years, and then awakened, he would tell where the King every day had been, and every dish he had had at his Table.  
He was not very uxorious, (though he had a very brave Queen that never crossed his designs, nor intermedled with State affairs, but ever complied with him (even against the nature of any, but of a mild spirit) in the change of Favourites;) for he was ever best, when furthest from his Queen, and that was thought to be the first grounds of his often removes, which afterwards proved habitual. He was unfortunate in the marriage of his Daughter, and so was all Christendom besides; but sure the Daughter was more unfortunate in a Father, than he in a Daughter: He naturally loved not the sight of a soldier, nor of any valiant man; and it was an observation that Sir Robert Mansell was the only valiant man he ever loved, and him he loved so entirely, that for all Buckingham's greatness with the King, and his hatred of Sir Robert Mansell, yet could not that alienate the King's affections from him; insomuch as when by the instigation of Cottington (Than ambassador in Spain) by Buckingham's procurement, the Spanish ambassador came with a great complaint against Sir Robert Mansell, then at Algiers, to suppress the pirates, That he did support them; having never a friend there, (though many) that durst speak in his defence, the King himself defended him in these words: My Lord ambassador, I cannot believe this, for I made choice myself of him, out of these reasons; I know him to be valiant, honest, and Nobly descended as most in my kingdom, and will never believe a man thus qualified will do so base an act. He naturally loved honest men, that were not over active, yet never loved any man heartily until he had bound him unto him by giving him some suit, which he thought bound the others love to him again; but that argued a poor disposition in him, to believe that any thing but a Noble mind, seasoned with virtue, could make any firm love or union, for mercenary minds are carried away with a greater prize, but Noble minds, alienated with nothing but public disgraces.  
He was very witty, and had as many ready witty jests as any man living, at which he would not smile himself, but deliver them in a grave and serious manner: He was very liberal, of what he had not in his own gripe, and would rather part with 100 li. he never had in his keeping, then one twenty shillings piece within his own custody: He spent much, and had much use of his Subjects purses, which bred some clashings with them in Parliament, yet would always come off, and end with a sweet and plausible close; and truly his bounty was not discommendable, for his raising Favourites was the worst: Rewarding old servants, and relieving his Native countrymen, was infinitely more to be commended in him, then condemned. His sending ambassadors, were no less chargeable than dishonourable and unprofitable to him and his whole kingdom; for he was ever abused in all Negotiations, yet he had rather spend 100000. li. on Embassies, to keep or procure peace with dishonour, than 10000 li. on an Army that would have forced peace with honour: He loved good laws, and had many made in his time, and in his last Parliament, for the good of his Subjects, and suppressing Promoters, and progging fellows, gave way to that Nullum tempus, &c. to be consigned to 60. years, which was more beneficial to the Subjects in respect of their quiets, than all the Parliaments had given him during his whole Reign. By his frequentin● Sermons he appeared Religious; ye● his Tuesday Sermons (if you wi●● believe his own countrymen, tha● lived in those times when they were erected, and well understood the cause of erecting them) were dedicated for a strange piece of devotion.  
He would make a great deal too bold with God in his passion, both in cursing and swearing, and one strain higher verging on blasphemy; But would in his better temper say, he hoped God would not impute them as sins, and lay them to his charge, seeing they proceeded from passion: He had need of great assurance, rather than hopes, that would make daily so bold with God.  
He was very crafty and cunning in petty things, as the circumventing any great man, the change of a Favourite, &c. insomuch as a very wise man was wont to say, he believed him the wisest fool in Chri●tendome, meaning him wise in small things, but a fool in weighty ●ffaires.  
He ever desired to prefer mean men in great places, that when he turned them out again, they should have no friend to bandy with them: And besides, they were so hated by being raised from a mean estate, to overtop all men, that every one held it a pretty recreation to have them often turned out: There were living in this King's time, at one instant, two Treasurers, three Secretaries, two Lord Keepers, two admirals, three Lord chief Justices, yet but one in play, therefore this King had a pretty faculty in putting out and in: By this you may perceive in what his wisdom consisted, but in great and weighty affairs even at his wit's end.  
He had a trick to cozen himself with bargains under hand, by taking 1000 li. or 10000 li. as a bribe, when his counsel was treating with his Customers to raise them to so much more yearly; this went into his Privy purse, wherein he thought he had overreached the Lords, but cozened himself; but would as easily break the bargain upon the next offer, saying, he was mistaken and deceived, and therefore no reason he should keep the bargain; this was often the case with the Farmers of the customs; He was infinitely inclined to peace, but more out of fear then conscience, and this was the greatest blemish this King had through all his Reign, otherwise might have been ranked with the very best of our Kings, yet sometimes would he show pretty flashes of valour which might easily be discerned to be forced, not natural; and being forced, could have wished, rather, it would have recoiled back into himself, then carried to that King it had concerned, lest he might have been put to the trial, to maintain his seeming valour.  
In a word, he was (take him altogether and not in pieces) such a King, I wish this Kingdom have never any worse, on the condition, not any better; for he lived in peace, died in peace, and left all his kingdoms in a peaceable condition, with his own Motto:  Beati Pacifici.  

The Court of King CHARLES.  
NOw having brought this peaceable King to rest in all peace, the 27th. of March, his Son, by the sound of the Trumpet, was proclaimed King, by the name of CHARLES the FIRST.  
His father's Reign began with a great Plague, and we have seen what his Reign was; his Sons with a greater Plague, and the greatest that ever was in these parts; we shall see what his Reign will be, and the effects of this plague have also hung as a fatal comet over this kingdom, in some parts, and over London in more particular, ever since: and we earnestly pray we may not fall into the hands of men, but rather, ever with that divinely inspired royal Prophet David, that we fall into the hand of the Lord (for his mercies are great.)  
This King was not Crowned with that solemnity all other Kings have formerly been, by riding through the City in all state, although the same Triumphs were provided for him, as sumptuous as for any other; this, some have taken as an ill omen: It's further reported (which I will not believe) that he took not the ususall Oath all our Kings were bound unto at their Coronation, and it's to be read in Covells book, if so, sure its a worse omen.  
One more observation is, of this King, which I remember not to have happened in any other Kingdom, I am confident never in this; That with him did also rise his father's Favourite, and in much more glory and luster then in his father's time, as if he were no less an inheritor of his Sons favours, than the son of the father's crown, and this, as it happened, was the worst omen of all; for, whereas in the father's time, there was some kind of moderation, by reason he was weary of the insolency of his Favourite; in the son's time, he reigned like an impetuous storm, bearing down all before him that stood in his way, and would not yield to him or comply with him: This showed no heroical or Kingly spirit, for the King ever to endure him that had put such scorns and insolent affronts on him in his father's time.  
This King (as his Father did set in peace) did rise like a Mars, as if he would say, Arma virumque cano, and to that end, to make himself more formidable to Spain and France, he called a Parliament, wherein never Subjects expressed more hearty affections to a sovereign; and in truth, were more loving than wise, for, as if for an income to welcome him, they gave him two entire Subsidies, and in so doing they broke the very foundation and privileges of Parliament, which never was wont to give Subsidies but as a thankful gratuity for enacting good laws, therefore it is but God's justice to repay them with Talion laws, to have their privileges broken, seeing they first chalked out the way. The King in requital of this great love of theirs, did instantly dissolve the Parliament, which hath bred such ill blood in the veins of the Subjects to their Sovereign, and in the Sovereign to the Subject, that it is like to produce an epidemical infection.  
But the occasion taken to dissolve it was worst of all; for, Buckingham, by his insolent behaviour, had not only lost that love his hatred to Spain had procured him, but was now grown into such an hatred that they fell on him for the death of his old Master, which had been of a long time before but whispered; but now, the Examinations bred such confessions, that it looked with an ugly deformed poisonous countenance, and nothing but the dissolution of that Parliament could have saved his dissolution and that with a brand of shame and infamy, as well as of ingratitude.  
I remember I heard a noble Gentleman, an old Parliament man, of that Committee for Examinations say, at first he derided the very thought of it; but, after the first days Examination it proved so foul, as that he both hated and scorned the name and memory of Buckingham; and though man would not punish it, God would, which proved an unhappy prediction.  
This dissolving the Parliament was ill relished by the people, and that which to them did seem the cause, worse, and to make the case yet fouler, and that it must needs be the evident cause; Buckingham's Counsels were so stupid and himself so insolent, that he did think it a glory to disgrace all those that followed that business, in that Parliament, or that seemed inquisitive thereafter; and caused many old Servants of the Kings, he formerly favoured very much, to be banished from Court, never to return more, nor did they ever, as Clare, Crofts, Sir Fra. Stewart, &c. nay Dr. Cragg, his physician, who from his very childhood, had the general repute of a very honest man, for expressing himself like an honest man in the King's presence, was instantly dismissed, never could recover his place or favour more.  
Now also is Williams, Lord Keeper turned out of his place, and Coventry the King's attorney put in, who (had Buckingham lived) had as soon followed in the same steps.  
Then goes Buckingham into France on a stately embassy for that Lady the King had seen, and set an affection on in his passage to Spain, which was obtained with small entreaty.  
Now doth Buckingham soar so high both in his Master's favours and in the pride of his own heart, as he altars all great Officers, makes war against Spain and France, the quarrel only his, voiced to be on strange grounds, the success accordingly▪ Navies, Armies, and nothing but war appears, as if we intended in show to conquer all that opposed. Lord Wimbleton the General, from whom as little could be expected, as he performed, carrying a powerful Army to Cales, after an infinite expense, and drinking much Spanish Wines, and beating out the heads of what they could not drink, (as if they intended to overthrow that year's trade of Spanish Wine) returned as like a valiant Commander, as he ever was reputed; whereas, had he brought home those wasted Wines, it may be they would have defrayed the charge of that expedition.  
After the return of that wise pageantism, Denbigh is sent into France to aid Rochel, who managed it better than his great Kinsman, Buckingham, who would afterwards needs go▪ to do great exploits, for he brought his ships and men safe again, the other left his men in powdering tubs, as if he meant to have them kept sweet against his next coming thither: In short, this unhappy voyage lost all the honour our glorious ancestors had ever gotten over that Nation, there being so many brave gentlemen wilfully lost, as if that voyage had been on purpose plotted to disable our Nation, by taking away so many gallant brave young spirits; so many of our Colours lost, as Trophies of their Victory, and of our shame, hung up in Notre dame Church, that the brave Talbot, and Salisbury, with many other our valiant Ancestors, will rise up in Judgement against him, for that every way inglorious Act. Nay, to how low an ebb of honour was this our poor despicable kingdom brought, that (even in Queen Elizabeth's time the glory of the World,) a great Nobleman, being taken prisoner▪ was freely released with this farewell given with him, that they desired but two English Mastieffes for his ransom!  
But the King by that unnecessary and dishonourable War▪ was driven to that exigency for want of money, that he was forced to pawn his rich Cupboard of Plate to Amsterdam, and to send Cottington into Spain (in a manner) to beg a peace, which having obtained, it was thought so great a service of him, that it raised him to all his honour and Fortunes.  
Yet (all the while) Rochel in sharp distress was left unrelieved, although otherwise intended, or but pretended rather. For the Courting betwixt the Duke and the governor of the Isle of Ree, in sending compliments and Presents to each other, showed rather an intimate dearness, than any hostility to be meant between them. And sure I am, the success made it apparent, that their▪ purpose was no better than to carry so many goodly Gentlemen, to the Slaughter-house, and Powdering-Tub (as even now I instanced.)  
Yet was the King so content to be abused, as publicly at his Dinner he delivered it for a miracle, that having such ill success, there were so few men lost, for that as many came home as went forth (as appeared by the chequer-rols) within five hundred, At which a Gentleman (whose faithful Valour prompted him to speak a truth in season, though theirs did not them to fight) standing at the back of the King's chair, said, yea, Sir, as you hear, that hear very little of Truth▪ But if you please to inquire of such as can and dare inform you truly, you shall find many thousands fewer came home then went forth: For which relation this honest telltruth was commanded presently from his Court-Attendance, which doom he never could get reversed, wherein you may behold the Power of Buckingham with the King, whose Word stood for a Law.  
Which Power of his, grew now so exorbitant, he aspires to get higher Titles both in Honour and Place, as, Prince of Tipperary (a place so called in Ireland) and Lord High Constable of England (an Office aimed at by that Monster and Machiavellian, Leicester, in Queen Elizabeth's time, but he therein was crossed and contradicted by the than Lord chancellor Hatton) now affected by Buckingham, who herein wrote after Leicesters' ambitious example but he crossed too (by precedent) with Coventry now Lord Keeper, and no question but upon those just grounds his Predecessor did: For, you must understand, this Office hath an Authority annexed unto it, to call any Subject in question for his life, by trying, condemning and executing him, in despite of the King himself. Nay, some have made no bones on't to affirm, that (for misgovernment) the King himself is not exempted from that Officers Power; politicly therefore did the aforementioned Hatton (who well understood the validity of such a Power) when Leicesters Commission was in dispute) to tell the Queen that his own hand should never strike off his own head; which word was enough to her who was hereat so wise as also in all other matters of Stateconcernment, wherein as she were hinted to a foresight of any prejudice, she knew how to prevent it. And thus that ended in his time.  
But Buckingham's ambition would not be so bounded; For, upon the opposing it by Coventry, he peremptorily thus accosted him, saying, who made you, Coventry, Lord Keeper? he replied, the King; Buckingham, sur-replyed, It's false, 'twas I did make you, and you shall know that I, who made you, can, and will unmake you. Coventry thus answered him; Did I conceive I held my Place by your Favour, I would presently unmake myself, by rendering the seal to his Majesty. Then Buckingham in a scorn and fury flung from him, saying, you shall not keep it long. And, surely, had not Felton prevented him, he had made good his Word.  
And before that happened, Weston was, by his power, & for his ends; made Treasurer, it should seem, upon some assurance from him, that he would find ways whereout to raise moneys into the Treasury (he judging him to be one that out of his own necessitous condition would adventure on any desperate projection to raise himself, but yet withal to fill the Chequer Coffers) who was no sooner warmed in his Office, but he began to show his inbred base disposition to his Rayser, Buckingham, as formerly he had done to Cranfield, who was indeed his preserver from perishing in a Prison, whence he redeemed him, making him a free partaker first of his bounteous Table, then raising him shortly after to be chancellor of the Exchequer; who at length, for requital, supplanted him. But for all this, Buckingham feared not, his high spirit in himself and vast Power with the King were so predominant and unmovable: He now therefore used at his own pleasure to come to the counsel Table (he being then honoured as the Oracle from whom they gaped for all Answers) but ever made them wait his coming, and were so tutored to their duteous observance of him, that at his approach or returning thence, they ever must rise as if he had been the King himself. (So that you may see to what a pretty pass those great men by their poor spirits had brought themselves.)  
But on a time, there issued this amongst other passages of insolences from Buckingham, who coming into the council, without any other Court-preface, says to the Treasurer Weston, My Lord, the King must have 60000l. provided against to morrow morning. The Lords startled at the mention of such a sum (the whole Exchequer not having seen within its keeping scarce 1000l. in many years) and could not imagine how, unless by the philosopher's stone, such a sum was possible to be gotten, but yet all looking on Weston (to whom it was in this case proper to make answer) who bethought himself what to say (the rest every one, the while, gazing at each other, another while again all at Weston, as a man of great wisdom, for so was he accounted (of a Plebejan.) At length, up he stands, and thus he answers Buckingham; My Lord, The Exchequer is in a deep consumption. whereat Buckingham interrupts him, saying, How, Sir! You came in to cure that Consumption, and to restore it to its useful plenitude. I remember you promised (like a mountebank) when you were to be invested by the King, you would do so, therefore, Sir, see you the money be provided, otherwise you shall hear further of it. With that high strain he rose up and departed.  
Now, are all ways endeavoured to get money from the Subjects, which was not to be gotten by fair means, the King having tried all the shifts which any former Prince (out of the Parliamentary way) had ever done, and had great sums brought in, such as none of his Predecessors ever had; of which, one was the royal Subsidy, every man lending as much as the sum in the Subsidy towards which he was assessed: as if (for example) assessed at 40. li. besides so much paid, he lent also 40. li. and so from the least to the greatest proportions assessed.  
Yet all this would not serve him, but that quickly vanished, than all other fair means proving (as was thought for their profuseness) too s●ant and slow; Force then must be the last remedy; the King must keep standing Garrisons to awe his good Subjects, and they consisting too of strangers not of Natives, To that end, one Dalbier (that had been general of Count Mansfield Horse) is dealt with for the raising of 1000 or 2000 German Horse, the most whereof to be quartered betwixt Gravesend and London; For advancing of which service, Sir William Balfore (as great a Servant and Confident he is now of this Parliament) was sent to Hamborough with 30000. l. to buy and to bring over those Horse with their impressed Riders, and Furniture, but many of them ready to be embarked, it should seem they were told by the way, by some well affected to England, that the King had not money to continue them in Pay; and Plunder they could not there, for they should be so environed with Sea, that there was no flying, but they must expect to have all their throats cut, if they took any thing from any man: Upon which, those Rascals, out of fear, not conscience, refused to come over. However, Balfore so well licked his fingers in that employment, as that he therewith laid the foundation of his future fortunes; yet, if this Parliament consider well this action of his, there is no reason he should be so dear unto them: For, of any thing yet touched upon against any man by this Parliament, I dare affirm this (of his) to be the greatest piece of villainy, and to be the nearest way to render us all slaves, and to make us have neither propriety in our Estates, Wives, nor Children. And yet was this Balfore a principal undetaker, and actor in this pernicious design, and (perhaps for that very cause) the greatest creature of Buckingham's that ever was.  
In this interval, their shifts not availing them; (to see therefore if by this fair means their ends might be obtained) another Parliament was summoned, wherein after some expostulations on both sides, there proved no better a good speed and success than a mere frustration of all hopes on both hands; which for the King's part, he apprehended with so great averseness, that, as 'twas said, he made a vow never to call more Parliaments.  
Foreign Forces, and fraudulent and fair devices homespun, failing, all; now must Projects in all their variegated inventions be (set on foot; to which sage (or rather rueful) purpose, one Noy, a very famous Lawyer as ever this kingdom bred, and (formerly) a great Patriot, and the only searcher of precedents for the Parliaments; by which he grew so cunning as he understood all the shifts which former Kings had used to get moneys with.  
This man the King sends for, tells him, he will make him his Attorney Noy (like a true cynic as he was) for that time went away, not returning to the King so much as the civility of a thanks; nor, indeed, was it worth his thanks, I am sure he was not worthy of ours. For, after the Court solicitings had bewitched him to become the Kings, he grew the most hateful man that ever lived. And it's to me a wonder, that this Parliament of Wonders doth not enact a Law, that his very name should never more be in this kingdom, he having been as great a Deluge to this realm, as the Flood was to the whole World: for, he swept away all our privileges, and in truth hath been the cause of all these miseries this kingdom▪ hath since been ingulphed; whether you consider our Religion, (he being a great Papist, if not an Atheist) and the protector of all Papists, and the raiser of them up unto that boldness they were now grown unto, who formerly had some moderation) or, if you consider our Estates and Liberties, they were impoverished and enthralled, by multitudes of projects, and illegal ways; this Monster was the sole Author of all.  
But first, now because there must be some great man (as a captain Projector) to lead some on, and hearten others to follow, Sir George Goring leads up the March and Dance with the monopoly of Tobacco, and Licensing of taverns, setting some up, where, and as many as he pleased, and this done by a seal appendicular to an Office erected by him for that purpose, as if authorised by a Law; besides all this, he hath Pensions out of the pretermitted Customs: insomuch as I have heard it most credibly reported, that his Revenue was 9000. l. per annum, all of these kinds; and for this piece of good service he was made a Lord, and Privy counsellor, to countenance his train of Projectors the better.  
Then did Weston enhance the customs, and laid new and heavier impositions on all things exported or imported; with such unconscionable rates upon Tobacco, that millions of pounds of it lay rotting in the customhouse (the Merchants refusing to pay the custom) besides loss of all other charges for the Tobacco itself. In short, there was not any thing (almost) that any man did eat, drink, or wear, or had in his house from foreign parts, or scarce any domestic commodities exempted, but he paid as it were, an Excise for it; yea, at last, even Cards and Dice escaped not, but they were monopolised by a great counsellor, the Lord Cottington: yea, (to keep their hands in ure) they got Patents for the very Rags, marrowbones, Guts, and such like Excrements, as were thought of no use but to be cast on the dunghills; and he was held the bravest commonwealths man that could bring in the most money, (yet, the King's private Purse, or public Treasury little or nothing bettered, but) to impoverish and vex the Subject, and to no other end; for which he was ordinarily rewarded with honour.  
This good service (the quite contrary way) did Weston and Noy do for the King; and, I believe you shall see God reward them and their posterity; for the one, like a Ionas Gourd sprang up suddenly from a beggarly estate to much Honour, and great Fortunes, will shortly wither; the other, his Son and heir was killed in France, presently after his death, and when both are dead, let their names and memory rot▪ and be extinct from the face of the earth.  
Now doth Buckingham provide for another foreign Enterprise, (but carried so close, I could never learn what it was; nor did any wise men much inquire after it, assuring themselves that such counsels could produce no better effects than those former.) In the beginning, yea even at the very entrance thereunto, he did so stink in the Nostrils of God and Man, that God made one Felton his Instrument to take such a Monster (as he was indeed) from his longer domineering amongst men, by a blow as fearful as strange, after which he had not time to say, Lord have mercy on him; a just judgement on him that forsook God, to seek to the devil by Witches, and Sorcerers in his life; one whereof was Doctor Lamb (who was his great defensitive preserver as he thought him) whose fate it was to be brained by a shoemakers Last when he least looked for it; the other was stabbed the next morning after that night he had caused a Fellow to be hanged, (not suffering him to have that night's respite (after his sentence, and offence (what ere it was) to repent him of his sins) with this vow, he would neither eat nor drink until he see him die; God, in requital of his merciless cruelty, would neither suffer him to eat nor drink before he died, by that dismal stroke of a poor tenpenny knife, of the said Feltons' setting home: Thus near alike in time and manner were these two hellish Agents Catastrophees. And now is set that great Sun (or rather portendous Comet) from whose influences all the Officers and Ministers had by reflection their life and heat.  
After his death, the very name of a Favourite died with him, none singly engrossing the King's ear and favour; but, a regular motion was set to all Officers, as appertained to their several places; as, to the Archbishop, the management and chief super-intendency of the Church; to the Lord Treasurer, the Exchequer and the Customs; to the Lords, Keepers of the Great and privy seals, what belonged to equity; to the Judges, what belonged to Law, so that (one would have thought) all things now went so just and equal, and in their proper channel, as none but might now expect from that new and better government halcyon days.  
But, it fared far otherwise, (God being angry at the Nations sins, the general juggling of the State was one, and a great one) all those procedures being but in appearance, righteous, nothing really so: but, like the Apples of Sodom, fair in show, rotten and corrupt within. For, now instead of the late (but one) Favourite, every great Officer, and Lord of the council proved a very Tyrant; and it appeared, that not their virtues, but the former Favourites power only did restrain them from being so; for, that falling (together with himself, as you have heard) and they left to their own Arbitrary power; you would verily have believed that Hell had been broke loose: And to make good that Metaphor, one of the council▪ being told by a Gentleman, that the country was much troubled at a certain great grievance, replied, Doth that trouble them? by God, there are seven worse devils to be shortly let out amongst them. And (in sober sadness) they all might truly have undergone the name of Legion, for, they were all many devils, and (like true, devils) took pleasure in tormenting. So that hereby may be perceived, the kingdom in general had no benefit (though some particular men, as Weston Treasurer, Coventry Lord Keeper, and all such as paid his beggarly kindred Pensions, which now were ceased) by this man's death, whose purpose 'twas to have turned out of place both Coventry and Weston, (before his last intended voyage.) But, now did Weston begin to be more cruel in Pride and Tyranny than Buckingham had been before him, and, (had not the Archbishop (Laud) balanced him) he would have been more insufferable. He cheated the King in the sale of Timber, and of Land, and in the letting of his Customs, the Archbishop notwithstanding truly informing the King thereof; Weston was so mad at the thought of it, he would often say to his friends (in private) That little Priest would monopolise the King's ear, for he was ever whispering to the King.  
And now begin the council Table, the Star-Chamber, and High Commission to be Scourges▪ and Tortures of the Commonwealth, by Imprisonments, and Mutilations of Members; and were made, (some of them) by sinings, the greatest incomes to the Exchequer; and, in truth, did now put down the Common Laws deciding of Meum and Tuum. And if any (desiring to appeal from them) refused to stand there to their censures, they were committed until they would submit thereunto. If men sent unto by them for money, refused it, they would imprison them till they would give or lend, and if any were summoned thither they had a mind to quarrel with, in whom they could not find a fault, they would make one, by saying, the Gentleman laughs at us: Or, the Gentleman saith thus, and thus; it may be that he had not in his thought, and yet there should not want a false witness; for, some Lords that sat with their backs towards them, or so far off that they could not hear, yet would testify either the words or actions; or, for want of this, a Clerk of the council should be called to witness, who, for his profit, must swear what any Lord said: If they hit not upon that trick, than sometimes they would contrive to put a Gentleman into passion by calling him some disgraceful name, or by scoffing at him; so that, indeed, the council Table was grown more like a Pasquil then a grave Senate. But if the spirit of the man were such, that he could not take those indignities without some regret, it was well for him, if he escaped with imprisonment, and not called o'er tenus to the Star-Chamber, and fined (as many were) to his undoing, for to that point were now the Fines of that Court risen.  
As for the High Commission-Court, that was a very (Spanish-like) Inquisition, in which all pollings and tyrannizings over our Estates and Consciences were practised, as were in the other over our Estates and bodies.  
Then were the Judges so much their Servants or rather Slaves; that what ere they illegally put in execution, they found▪ Law to maintain.  
But, that which is a wonder above all wonders is, that Coventry, who formerly had gained the opinion of a just and honest man, was a principal in all these miscarriages, yet died he unquestioned; when, had his actions been scanned by a Parliament (in that they were not, you may see what opinion is, which in the multitude blindeth the understanding) he had been found as foul a man as ever lived.  
Finch, a fellow (of an excellent tongue but not of one dram of Law, made (for all that) chief Justice of the Common-Pleas (the only Court most learned in the Law; yet he brought all the learned Judges, except two only (Hutton and Crook) to be of his illegal opinion for shipmoney. This surely, must be a punishment from God on them, and us for our sins, otherwise it had been impossible so many grave judges should have been overruled by such a slight and trivial fellow.  
Now also all Officers in all places took what Fees they pleased, as if in a jubilee; Amongst the rest those of the Star-Chamber, the council Table, and the High Commission were very Grandees: Yea, the very Messengers (to them) were countenanced in their abuse, and insultings over the Gentry (when in their clutches:) and to such a strange pass were disorders come unto, that every lackey of those great Lords might give a checkmate to any Gentleman, yea, to any Country Nobleman, that was not in the Court favour.  
And to fill full the measure of the times abounding iniquity, the Court chaplains (and others elsewhere) with the Reverend Bishops themselves, did preach away our liberties and proprieties, yet kept they Divinity enough for their own interests: for, they concluded, all was either God's or the Kings, their part belonged to God, in which the King had no propriety: Our part belonged wholly to the King, in which we had propriety no longer, when the King were disposed to call for them, so that, betwixt the Law and the Gospel, we were ejected out of Lands, Liberties, and Lives at pleasure.  
And now is God's time come to visit with his justice; and behold it: For, the pit they digged for others they themselves are fallen into, for all their Honours, Lands and Liberties are a gasping (and the judges are but in very little better case) for, the Parliament will do that to them by the Law, which they would have done to us by wresting the Gospel.  
But, what needed all that joy for the death of Buckingham! Sith the times succeeding him, have been so infinitely beyond him in all oppression, as they are like to bring all manner of miseries both upon King & people: So that in truth, his Hydra's head being struck down, an hundred more instead thereof appeared, which never durst, in his life time: And as he got much by suits, so did Weston, much, by cheating (yet all came out of the Subjects purses) and Coventry (that so generally a reputed honest man) got such an estate by Bribery and In-justice, that he is said to have left a Family worth a Million; Which may commend his wisdom, but in no wise his Honesty.  
And now also dies Weston, after he had first brought in (as, you may remember, I told you, himself was by Cranfield) Sir Thomas Wentworth (after Earl of Strafford) the active manager of the State, and sole governor of the King.  
This Strafford, without doubt, was the ablest Minister that this kingdom had since Salisbury's time; and to speak uprightly, there was not any but himself worthy of that name, amongst all the King's council; yet, I am confident, by the weakness of that board, his abilities in State affairs were judged more than they were; and besides, that very word of statesman was now grown a stranger to our Nation: Nor was he as Salisbury, (or our ancient Heroes) a general statesman, nor was it possible he should be, he not having that breeding himself: Nor kept he any upon his charge in foreign parts for intelligence: Nor had he such a Tutor as the other had of his Father (who was the most absolute statesman in the world) whose very Papers (which were left to this Salisbury, and served as so many rich precedents, and Instructors to him) were able (if wanting in abilities of his own) to make him an able statesman. But I held Straffords abilities to be more on this side, then beyond the Seas; yet, might he challenge the title of a good Patriot: And so indeed, he was, before he turned a Courtier; After that, he converted his studies, and endeavours, to make the King an absolute Arbitrary Monarch, by screwing up the regal Prerogative to so high a strain as hath made it crack; and by raising his Revenues so high that he made them fall; in which also his own interest was concerned: For, he did neither serve God nor the King for nought. Nor would Straffords abilities have been so transparent, had any such Concurrents as Buckhurst, Walsingham, or Hatton been now living, or such an one as the Earl of Essex (who was Salisbury's Antagonist.) But this man had only the Archbishop (whose proper Element too, was but the Church) and they drew both in one line. And here I shall give you one note of Straffords failing in his masterpiece, that he was no such absolute wise man (that could not find the just Medium of the people's Temper) but by striving to make the King all; and on a sudden, he made the King less, and himself less than nothing. And, had he been wise, he could not but find the King's spirit was not to undergo, nor to go through with great actions, but would fail under them, and crush the owners: Which he to his lamentable experience hath found and felt too true. Besides, I much doubt Straffords own spirit, that, seeing his wisdom was too short to protect him, his spirit was so low to fail him, that he did not, like Samson, pull down the house upon others heads, but fall (like a tame fool) himself alone, caught in a gin, and lay still without any fluttering: When, surely, some others of the Cabinet council were as deep as himself in any design.  
You have here now seen a great Subject, yea, the greatest that ever our eyes beheld, that was no Favourite, and greater in his fortunes then many Favourites.  
You have also seen a King, the greatest that our Nation ever had, both in Prerogative, Power, and Revenues, and the most absolute over his Subjects; The one fallen below the earth, the other so low upon earth, that I wish I could but see him in the same state his peaceable Father left him, who kept his Prerogative to the height, without cracking it, because he had able Ministers and councillors left, who were of Queen Elizabeth's stock; but this King's Ministers strain all so high, that the very ligaments, and nerves of Sovereignty are quite broken in sunder; I wish them well sothered again.  
But because, if I write further, I must tune to a much lower key, I will here end with my prayers; That, God would give the King a wise council, and an understanding heart to be able to give himself council what will be best for himself, his Posterity, and the people committed to his Charge: And that he may discern such as council him for their own private ends, and interest, not for his Honour and Safety.  
And here do I draw a curtain betwixt the time past, and that to come in this King's Reign, desiring it may never be remembered to Posterity.   

Observations (instead of a Character) upon this King, from his childhood.  
IT being improper to write the Character of Kings before their Deaths (I wish this were not much nearer the period of his happiness than his death) give me therefore leave to present unto your view some remarkable observations of this unfortunate King.  
In his very infancy; he was so subject to that wilful humour (still possessing him) that if any thing crossed him, he could hardly be stilled; which than they were forced to give way unto, by reason of that extreme weakness which disabled him (as the like did his Father) until the 7th. year of his Age, to go, or scarce to stand alone; crawling, (when of himself he would be in motion) upon all four, in a most unseemly manner: For the recovery whereof, he was beholding to the skill of one Master Stutavile, an excellent Artist for strengthening Limbs, and straightening crooked Bodies; but, for the rectifying his wayward disposition, to the tender care of the Lady Carey, afterward Countess of Monmouth.  
This humour of his principally he took from his Mother, who notwithstanding was a gallant Lady; nor was he free from it by the father's side, though his timorous nature gave it an allay. His Mother (who loved him so dearly, that she said, she loved him as she did her Soul, yet) was wont to say, that she must with grief of heart confess, He was a fool, and wilful, which would hereafter endanger him the loss of his crown.  
A sad, Censure, yet it should seem prophetical. But, it were a lesson fit for all parent's learning, rather to leave their Children to God's Providence, than to pry into his office of fore knowledge.  
He ever expressed an ill nature, by taking delight to do ill offices to his father's servants, as well as to his own; witness that instance concerning Master Murrey his Tutor, and Doctor Hackwell placed about him, to instruct him in the principles of Religion, who (rightly) judging it coincident to that his employment, did therefore (upon the Treaty for the Spanish Match) deliver him a small Treatise in Manuscript, therein intimating his advice and judgement to inform his Conscience aright, against coupling himself with a Papist, saying to him, Sir, I beseech you make use of this, by reading it yourself, but if you show it to your Father, I shall be undone for my good will. The Prince returned him many thanks, and assured him, it should never go farther than the cabinet of his own breast; but withal, he asked him, to whom he had showed it? Hackwell replied, the Archbishop (Abbot) hath read it, who returning him it, said to him, Well done thou good and faithful servant. Besides him, he told the Prince, he had only showed it to Mr. Murrey the Tutor, who belike being better acquainted with his Master's perfidious disposition than the other, did then dissuade him from delivering it to the Prince, for, saith he, he will betray you. And it so fell out, for within less than two hours after his said engagement to the Doctor, he presents it to his Father; upon which, he, or any through whose hands and cognizance it had passed before, were all under a disgrace, and banished the Court (only Murrey was afterwards Provost of Eton.) Here was an emblem of his breach of oaths, and protestations in future, and of his untrustiness, which in a subject would have been called treachery.  
Such a one too he showed himself, in the business of Rochel; which, after his fair promises, and deep imprecations for their relief, and assistance, wherein they put some confidence, was merely betrayed by him; insomuch that when the Rochel Agents found themselves abused through their whole years attendance, they left this bitter jeer upon him, that now they could rightly call England the Land of Promise.  
He seldom loved any but to serve his turn, and would himself serve a turn to do any mischief, as was to be seen by his saying Amen to every full point of Buckingham's Accusation in the face of the Parliament against Bristol, for his miscarriage in Spain; when it appeared by Bristols defence in public, before the face of that same Parliament, that there was not scarce one syllable had any truth in it; who also freely put himself upon the Test, that if there were any truth in that combined Accusation against him, he would yield himself guilty of it all.  
He was of a very poor spirit, which may be conceived (amongst other things) by his making Buckingham his Privado, after he came to the Crown; otherwise would he never have forgotten those unsufferable insolences offered him being Prince, what they were you have already heard. His Predecessor Henry the fifth (and so his brother Henry) would have instructed him otherwise; for, although (its true) noble minds should forget injuries, so as not to revenge them, yet so, as not to countenance the doers of them, especially to take them into so much nearness and dearness as he did him after those two proud affronts, which argued in him, as I said before, a poor and ignoble spirit.  
He had all his kingdoms left in peace and tranquillity by his Father, which he soon after made a shift to distemper by a foolish war upon France and Spain, and by a more foolish conduct of either ignorant, unexperienced, or cowardly Commanders. And in truth, if you will give credit to Vox populi, (the book so called, written by one Scot) they were suitable to the grounds of such Quarrels, being no fairer than the satisfying the beastly appetite of his Favourite, who must be revenged (forsooth) upon those States. In which I admire God's Justice, that he who unjustly made War upon unwarrantable grounds, should have war thus brought home unto him; so that now God hath given him the same measure he hath met to others, even full, pressed down, and running over.  
I wish I may have a time to give him a fairer Character when he is dead, then are my observations in his life; but I may rather wish than hope, in that course he yet continues.   

Certain observations before Queen Elizabeth's death.  
I Cannot but admire God's Providence in bringing Peace, when nothing was thought of but War; and now bringing a cruel war, when nothing could be expected but peace: Peace with all foreign Estates, peace at Home. Not long before the death of Queen Elizabeth all the discourse was in a secret whispering, on whom the Succession would fall; some said, the Lady Arabella, some the King of Scotland, and reason given pro and con on both sides; they who were for her, saying, the Lady Arabella was a Native, and a Maid, and that this kingdom never flourished more than under a maiden's reign: Others for the Scot, said, that the King of Scots was more near to the crown by descent; farther off say others, as being a Stranger, and that Nation ever in Hostility against us. Nor did the King himself believe he should have come in with a sheathed Sword, which appeared by that Letter he produced of the Earl of Northumberlands, that if he made any doubt hereof, he would bring him forty thousand Catholics should conduct him into England. But, the Queen died, the King comes in peaceably, even to the admiration of all foreign Princes, and to the gnashing of their teeth; but, the reason was, they had lived in obedience under a just sovereign, who was wont ever to say, when any great man had oppressed a poor Gentleman that Petitioned her for redress against such oppression, when all the great Lords and Officers would hold together to support the Suppressor, and trample upon the oppressed: My Lords (quoth she) content you, I am Queen of the Valleys as well as of the Hills, and I must not suffer the Hills to o'ertop, nor yet to over-shade the Valleys.  
A worthy saying, which if it had been imitated by her Successors, these our miseries had never happened; but, I say (and this is it I now drive at) her Justice made her Subjects to believe there could be no injustice in Monarchy; and that was it did facilitate the King's peaceable entrance. In that tranquillity did the kingdom continue all his days, and about fifteen years of his Sons Reign: when behold, there was nothing but jollity in the Court, as if saying to themselves, Who dares molest us? the King having now a plentiful Issue; for, let me tell you, the King's Issue made Him and his Courtiers the more to trample on the country Gentry. But behold, when nothing but peace, peace, sudden destruction came on them, and us unawares; and God sends such a War as no man could dream of Now the corollary of all is this, the high injustice of Church and State was the cause of this war. And, O, may not the continuing of that, in any other Government prove the continuance of this war! there being a far greater appearance of the continuance thereof then ever there was of the beginning:  
But, God's will be done.   

The Contents.  

Queen Elizabeth died at Richmond house, on March 24▪ 1602. page 1, 2●  
The first that carried news thereof into Scotland, was Sir Rob. Carew who was afterward made Governor of the Kings than second Son Charles Duke of York▪ p. 2, 3●  
The first man employed from Scotland to the English Nobility for preparations of the Kings coming into England, was Sir Roger Aston. p. 4●  
He was afterwards made (from the King's barber) 〈◊〉 gentleman of his bedchamber. p. 6●   

The King's Favourites.  
1 Sir George Hewme a kind of Favourite for having been of some secret counsels with the King whils● in Scotland, the chief of which, was that of Gourie● Conspiracy. p. 7, 8●  
2 Sir Robert Cicill a Favourite. p. 9● 

His ill offices he did this Nation. p. 1●  
His Herodian disease, and end. p. 1●    
3, 4. Hen▪ Howard & Tho. Howard favourites. p. 1● 

The principal managers of the State affairs in Englan● then, were Salisbury, Suffolk, &c. p. 1●    
5 Mr. James Hay an high Favourite, &c. See his ri● &c. p. 17, 18, 1● 

Passages concerning Sir Walter Raleigh. p. 27, & ●  
A notable discovery made by Sir Rob. Mansel of a Spaniards stealing plate, which cleared the false imputation laid by them on the English, p. 40. &c.  
The King easily perswa●ed to retire himself, by those Managers of the State, of which Salisbury was the chief p. 46, 47, 48  
Secretary Lake, p. 49, &c.  
Salisbury, Suffolk, & Northampton great getters, more than the whole bunch of the Scots, Dunbar excepted. p. 54  
Kelly, Annandale, and Carlisle vast consumers, especially Carlisle, of what they got. ibid.    
6 Montgomery for a time a Favourite, p. 56. Upon whose wane, after a contention between the English, and Scots, out of whether Nation the next Favourite should come, C●r arose a Favourite. p. 57 

How tended, and tendered by the King, when, in a Tilting with the Lord Dingwel, he had broke his leg, p. 58    
Sir Tho. Overbury taken into great favour by Car. p. 59 

Salisbury, and Suffolk in favour of this new Favourite, regardful of his Creature (Overbury) are both used by him, yet through his insolency, both neglected, p. 60  
Northampton's plot upon Overbury for his scorn of him. ib  
Overbury, a tart reprover of Somerset, concerning (Suffolk's daughter) Essex's wife. p. 62  
He is therefore plotted against, to be removed out of the way on an Embassy to France, or upon refusal &c. p. 64  
Being committed to the Tower, he was there p●ysoned.  
See the foulness of that business. p. 65. &c.  
After that, Summersault marrys the Lady, in which m●tter was seen the high corruption of the than times, p. 70 etc  
In this Favourites time came over the Palsgrave, and married the King's daughter, the La. Elizabeth, p. 76  
Shortly after, Prince Henry died. ib.  
His death foretold by Bruce, banished therefore by Salisbury, who died in May, the Prince in November following, p. 78  
Ingram and Cranfield, Projectors made use of in Court, but, like Projectors as they were, kept under by Somerset, which were more highly regarded by the after Favourite, p. 80, 81. which was    
8 Favourite, Mr. Mr. George Villers. p. 82 

Zouch, Goring, Finit, and Millicent the Court fools (as well as Archee) with whose jollity this Favourite was ushered in, p. 84, 85.  
Winwood brought in Secretary of State by Somerset and by him unworthily used, ruined him by discovering the poisoning of Overbury, p. 86, &c.  
It being made publicly known unto the King. See his (seeming) serious charge upon the Judges for their impartial sifting out, and punishing the Complotters thereof, in p. 92  
The King's dissimulation to Summersault. p. 95  
Who by a device of Sir George Moores (after Elways Lieutenant of the Tower) was tamely led from the Tower to his Arraignment, p. 108, &c.  
Mrs, Turner, Weston, Franklin, and Sir Gervase Elwayes executed for that business, p. 113  
This Favourite displaceth the well-deserving admiral (the E. of Nott.) and gets that place to himself, p. 114  
The next great Office his power reacheth at to dispose, is, Egertons Lord Chancellorship, to whom he sends Bacon for the Seal, p. 115. To whom Buckingham the Favourite sends a message, p. 116. Whereto see his Answer. p. 117  
Buckingham's course to raise and maintain his kindred p. 119  
Bacon's proud carriage so soon as made Lord Chancellor, the King being soon after gone to Scotland, p. 121  
After him (degraded for his bribery by a Parliament) comes Williams, Dean of Westminster Bishop of Lincoln. p. 127  
Who was in bribery inferior to none. p. 130  
The Lord Treasurer (Suffolk) being turned out, one of the afore named Projectors, Cranfield, was brought in by Buckingham, p. 131. His censure in the House of Peers, p. 132  
He and the Prince go into Spain disguised, and under the names of Jack and Tom Smith. p. 133  
Taking their way by France, the Prince eyed there that Lady whom he after married. ib.  
Through Buckingham's miscarriages in Spain, and his spleen against Bristol, the Match with Spain was dissolved. 133, &c.  
The King now hates Buckingham. p. 139  
Buckingham hates the King. p. 144  
Which proved the Kings suggested cause, true, p. 149  
After which, his dark dealing with the King, See a passage from one of the King's Servants to the Duke, p. 161, 162     

In the Court of King Charles beginning, p. 176. the observations are:  
AS his father's reign began with a great Plague, His, with a greater, p. 176  
He was not crowned with the wonted solemnity, nor took he the usual Oath, p. 177  
With him arose also his father's favourite, ib.  
The first Parliament he called gave him two entire Subsidies, &c. p. 179  
Buckingham being questioned about the former King's death, dissolved that Parliament. ib.  
Which was ill relished by the people, p. 180  
Williams the Lord Keeper turned out of his place, and Coventry put in, p. 181  
Buckingham sent into France, for that Lady the King had seen there, ib.  
Through his instigation, the King prepares for a war against Spain and France, p. 182  
Wimbleton's unsuccesful expedition in Spain, ib.  
Denbigh is sent to aid Rochel, ib.  
Buckingham's loss of many brave Gentlemen in the Isle of Rees expedition, p. 183. where comes in a large supplement which the former Edition of this Book had not.  
For these unjust Quarrels management, the King pawned his Plate to Amsterdam, p. 184  
Cottington sent to beg a peace with Spain, ib.  
Rochels' relief not really performed, ib.  
Buckingham's ambition after higher Titles and Offices. p. 186.  
Weston (after Cranfield) made Lord Treasurer by Buckingham's procurement, p. 188  
Shifts to raise moneys, p. 191  
Noy made the King's Attorney, p. 195  
By whom many Projects were put in practice, p. 196  
Buckingham intending some great secret design abroad, was slain by Felton, p. 199  
Amongst whom the managing of affairs than was▪ p. 201  
After his death no bettering in the State, but worse, p. 202  
Weston, if not balanced by Laud, had been worse in tyrannising then Buckingham, p. 203  
Council Table, &c. scourges to the people, ib.  
Coventry a very corrupt man (whose time reached to this very Parliament, yet) not questioned for it, p. 206  
Finch made chief Judge of the Common Pleas, ib.  
Fees in all Courts taken excessively, p. 207  
The Bishops and other Court Clergy preached away the people's liberties and proprieties, ib.  
Their turn now to lose both, p. 208  
Strafford the ablest statesman since Salisbury, p. 209  
First brought in by Weston, ib.  
He failed in his ignorance of the people's temper, and of the King's disability and faithfulness in weighty matters and great Agents, p. 211, 212  
He was the greatest Subject (not being a Favourite▪) that ever was, ibid.  
Observations upon this K. from his childhood. p. 215  
Certain observations before Q, Eliz. death. p. 223   
FINIS.