In the raigne of King Richard the first.

THere was one William Fitz Osbert a Cittizen of Lon­don, William Fitz Osbert got him a trayterous cō ­pany, and rebel­led against the King. 1196. a man but of poore and meane degrée, yet endued with a quicke witte and an eloquent tongue (as many of these secrete perswaders are) he perswaded the people to séeke liberty and fréedome, and so prouided himselfe of two and fiftie thousand Londoners to rise against the King. And to maintaine his traiterous enterprise, he tooke the Stéeple of Bowe Church in Chepe, and fortified it with Munition and victualles: but in the end the Church was assaulted by the Cittizens, and William with his Compli­ces were taken, and so brought to the Archbishoppe in the Tower, where he was condemned, & by the héeles drawne from thence to a place called the Elmes, where he was hanged with nine of his fellowes.

In the raigne of King Henry the thirde.

KIng Henrie the third lying at UUoodstocke, a Scholler A Scholler of Oxford attemp­ted to kyll the King. 1239. of Oxforde fayning himselfe mad, enterprised to haue [Page 3] slaine the King in his Chamber: but he was taken, and after long imprisonment, was torne in péeces with horsses at Couentrie.

In the raigne of King Edward the second.

THere was one Iohn Poydras, a Tanners sonne of Ex­cester, who in diuers places of England named himselfe Iohn Poydras, a Tanners sonne of Excester, claimed to be King. 1316. the Sonne of King Edward the first, and saide, that by a false Nurse he was stollen foorth of his Cradle, and Ed­ward that then was King put in his place: but shortly af­ter he was conuict of his vntrueth, when he confessed, that he did it by the motion of a familiar spirite, which he had in his house in the likenesse of a Catte, whome he had ser­ued for thrée yéeres (as all Traitours els forget God, and serue the deuill) but for this his seruice, he was not long after hanged at North-hampton.

Edward de Bruis the King of Scottes Brother, who for Edward de Bruis for vniustly crow ning himselfe King of Ireland, was beheaded. 1317. the space of thrée yéeres had assaulted Ireland, and vniustly vsurping the King of Englands title, crowned himself King thereof: was at length taken by the King of Englands sub­iectes, and was beheaded at Dundalke.

The Towne of Bervvicke was betrayed to the Scots, They that be­traied the Towne of Berwick, were hanged for theyr labour. 1317. through the Treason of Peter Spalding, and other Eng­lish men: whome the King of Scottes (in reward of their tretcherie) caused to be hanged, for being Traitours to their owne Countrie.

Thomas Earle of Lancaster, hauing prouided himselfe of a great number of his confederacie, rebelled against Thomas Earle of Lancaster behea­ded, for rebel­ling against the King: and many of his confede­rates executed. 1321. King Edward the second, wherevppon the King pursued the Rebelles, and at Borowbridge the saide Earle of Lan­caster, with Lordes, Knightes and other, to the number of thrée score and fiue were taken. All these were condemned by the iudgement of Andrew Herkeley Earle of Carlile, and on the two and twentie of March following, Thomas [Page] Earle of Lancaster was beheaded, and Warin de Lile, William Tochet, Thomas Manduit, Henrie Bradbourne, William Fitzwilliam the younger, and William de Chey­ney Barons, were hanged and quartered at Pomfret. Iohn Mowbray, Roger Clifford, and Goceline Deynvile, were drawne and quartered at Yorke. Bartholmew Badlesmere at Canterburie. Henrie de Mountfort, and Henrie Wil­lington at Bristow. Iohn Clifford and Roger Elinbrough at Glocester. William Kerdife and Henrie Chies at Lon­don. Frances de Aldham at VVindsore. Thomas Culpe­per at VVinchelsea. The rest of their complices were be­stowed in diuers prisons.

Andrew Herkeley Earle of Carlile, vnder colour of Andrew Herke­ley Earle of Car­lile hanged and quartered. 1322. peace, feigned a mariage, which by the King & his Nobles was reputed for Treason: wherevpon he was apprehen­ded by his trustie fréend Sir Anthonie de Lucy, and af­terward was disgraded of the Earledome, by the taking the swoord from him, and cutting off his spurres, then was he hanged and quartred at Carlile, his head being sent to London, and his quarters to foure partes of the land.

Hugh Spencer the elder, and Hugh Spencer his sonne, The two Spen­cers very trouble some traytors to the Realme: in the ende had theyr iust de­serts. 1326. were verie troublesome persons to the Realme, and cau­sed many seditious treasons to arise daily: but the Father was taken at Bristowe, where he was drawne to the Gal­lowes in his Armour, and so hanged, then was he taken downe and beheaded, and his body hanged vp againe, and after foure daies his body was cutte in péeces, and cast to the Dogges to be eaten, but his head was sent to Winche­ster. Hugh Spencer his sonne was brought to Hereforde, where he was condemned without aunswere, and was drawne and hanged vpon a paire of Gallowes thirtie foote hie, and afterward was headed and quartered. Simon Rea­ding and Robert Baldocke, Bishoppe of Norvvich, and the Kinges Chauncelour, who were pertakers with them in their traiterous rebellions: the saide Simon Reading was drawne and hanged on the same Gallowes, but ten foote lower, and Robert Baldocke died in Newgate with [Page 4] many tormentes. And many of their confederates were executed in other places, so that but fewe of them escaped without punishment.

In the raygne of King Edward the thirde.

ROger Mortimer, for consenting to the murthering of Roger Morti­mer, and others executed, for consenting to the murdering of the Kings Fa­ther. 1330. the Kings Father, and many other notorious treasons, was condemned at VVestminster in the presence of the whole Parliament, and afterward was drawne to the Elmes and hanged on the common Gallowes, where he hanged two dayes and two nightes by the Kinges com­maundement: there were hanged with him, Sir Simon de Burford Knight, Sir William Burford that was Iu­stice, and Iohn Deuerel Esquier, who was desirous to haue made open confession of the Kinges Fathers cruell death, but he could not be suffered.

The Londoners sought to kill Iohn of Gaunt the Kings The Mayor and Aldermen of London deposed, because the Lon­doners sought to kyll the Kinges Sonne. 1377. Sonne, Duke of Lancaster, for a word which he had spo­ken against their Bishoppe: wherevpon the King deposed the Mayor and Aldermen of London, and appointed other in their places, and Sir Iohn Minsterwoorth Knight, with others, were drawne and hanged for the same.

In the raigne of King Richard the seconde.

BY the wicked perswasions of Iohn Ball a seditious The Commons of Kent & Essex, rebelled against the King, theyr Captaines being Iacke Strawe and Watte Tyler. 1381. Préest, the Commons of Kent and Essex rebelled against the King, chusing for their Captaines in their rebellion, Watte Tiler and Iacke Strawe. They came to Blacke Heath, and so on to London, and entred the Cittie on Corpus Christi day, where they destroyed many goodly pla­ces of the Nobles and others, as the Sauoy, Saint Iohns [Page] by Smithféeld, the Manour of Highburie by Yseldon, and the Temple, where the Prentises of the Lawe were lod­ged for the increase of their Studie. They tooke out of the Tower of London (where the King was then lodged) Si­mon Sudburie Archbishop of Canterburie, Lord Chaunce­lour of England, Robert Halles Priour of Saint Iohns, and Treasorer of England, William Apelton a Frier Minor the Kinges Confessour, and Iohn Legge a Seriant of the Kinges, and beheaded them all on the Tower Hyll. They beheaded diuers other in many places, as Sir Iohn Ca­uendishe Lord chéefe Iustice of England, the Priour of S. Edmundes-burie, and other. Richard Lions a famous Lapi­dary of London, was drawne out of his house, and beheaded in Chepe. They beheaded all men of Lawe, as well Pren­tises and vtter Barresters, as Iustices and all Iurers that they might get into their hands. They spared none whome they thought to be learned, were it neuer so lyttle, especi­allie if they found any to haue pen and inke, they pulled off his hoode, and cried out all with one voice, hale him into the stréetes, and cut off his head. The King to pacifie their The King offe­reth the rebelles peace, furie offered them peace, on condition they would cease from burning of houses and slaughter of men, which the Essex men tooke, and returned home, but the Kentish men remained burning and killing styll, as before. Wherevpon the King sendeth Sir Iohn Newton Knight to Wat Tiler their Captaine, to intreate him to come talke with him a­bout The King sent to Wat Tyler. his owne demaundes: the Knight hauing doone his message, Wat Tiler mallepartlie aunswered, that he would come at his owne pleasure, neuerthelesse, he followed soft­lie after the Knight, and when he came néere Smithféeld, where the King tarried his comming, the same Knight was sent againe to méet him, and vnderstand his requests. Wat Tiler séeing the Knight come néere vnto him on horse backe, proudlie saide, it had become him better to be on Note the pride of a traytour. foote in his presence: the Knight aunswered, that it was no harme, sith himselfe was also on horsebacke, therewith Wat Tiler drew his Dagger, and offering to strike, called [Page 5] the Knight Traiteur, wherevpon the Knight drew his dagger too, and aunswered him that he lyed. The King sée­ing the Knight in daunger, commaunded him to alight on foote, and to deliuer his Dagger to Watte Tyler, whose proude minde would not be so pacified, but would néedes run on the Knight: wherevppon there came to the King William Walwoorth the Mayor of London, and many o­ther Knightes and Esquiers, who affirmed that it would be a shamefull reproch, if they should suffer the Knight to be murdred. At last the King commaunded the Mayor to arrest the Rebell, which Mayor being a man of verie vali­aunt Wat Tyler ar­rested by the Mayor of Lon­don, and after­ward slaine. courage, arrested Wat Tyler on the head with such a mighty stroke, as he caused him to fall downe greatly asto­nied, then a number more enuironed the Rebell round a­bout, and gaue him so many woundes, as he had no life left in him, &c. Iacke Strawe being likewise taken, when at Lon­don he should lose his head, by the iudgement of the Maior, confessed as followeth.

The same time (sayth he) that we came to Black Heath, The confession of Iacke Strawe. when we sent for the King, we purposed to haue murdred all Knightes, Esquiers, and Gentlemen that should haue come with him, and to haue led the King (royallie vsed) vp and downe, that with the sight of him, all men (especiallie the common people) might haue come vnto vs the more boldlie. And when we had prouided our selues of a suffici­ent multitude, we would haue suddenlie put to death in e­uerie Countrie, the Lordes and Maisters of the common people, in whome might appeare to be eyther councell or resistaunce against vs. And speciallie we would haue kyl­led the Knightes of Saint Iohns, lastlie, we would haue kylled the King himselfe, and all men that had béene of any possession, Bishoppes, Monkes, Chanons, Parsons: to be bréefe, we would haue dispatched all such, onelie begging Friers should haue liued, that might haue suffised for mi­nistring the Sacraments through the whole Realme. And we would haue made Kings at our pleasure, as Wat Tiler in Kent, and in euerie Shiere one: but because this our [Page] purpose was hindred by the Archbishoppe, we studied how we might shortlie bring him to his ende. Against the same daye that Watte Tyler was kylled, we purposed that eue­ning (because the poore people of London séemed to fauour vs) to sette fire in foure corners of the Cittie, so to haue burnt it, and to haue deuided the ritches at our pleasure a­mongst vs. He added, that these thinges they purposed to haue doone, as God should helpe him at the ende of his life. After this his confession, he was beheaded, and his head set on London Bridge, by Watte Tylers, and many other.

When these Rebelles burned the Sauoy, one of them One of the Re­belles cast into the fire by his fellowes. tooke a goodlie Siluer péece, and hid it in his bosome, but an other had spied him, and tolde his fellowes, who hurled him and the péece of Plate together into the fire.

Two and thirtie of them entring the Seller of the Sa­uoy, Two and thirtie of the Rebelles mured vp in a Seller. drunke so much of swéete wines, that they were not able to come out againe, but were shutte in with wood and stones that mured vp the doore: they called and cried seuen dayes after, and were heard of many, but none came to helpe them, so they died there.

After a number had sacked the new Temple, what with labour and excéeding drinking of white Wine, they laye The Rebelles murder one an other. downe vnder the walles and houses, and were slaine lyke Swine: hatred and contention so arose amongst them, as they cruellie murdered one an other, and others also made quicke dispatch of them, thus the iust iudgement of GOD brought the Traytors to their deserued end.

Iohn Ball Priest, who encouraged these traytors in their Iohn Ball Priest, the comforter of the Rebelles, hanged 1382. rebellion, was brought to Saint Albones, and there before the King was hanged and quartered: he would not aske the King forgiuenesse (as all traytors doo the like) but vt­terlie despised him.

The principall leaders of the Commons in rebellion, were Wat Tyler, Iack Strawe, Iohn Kirkbie, Allen Thre­der, The names of the Rebelles that would haue made themselues Kinges. Thomas Scot, and Ralphe Rugge: these with other were leaders of the Kentishe and Essex men. At Mildenhall and Burie in Suffolke, was Robert Westbrome, that made [Page 6] himselfe King, and was most famous after Iohn Wraw: who being Priest would not set crowne vpon crowne, but left the name and crowne to the saide Robert.

At Norvvich, Iohn Leicester a Dyer, exercised the name and power of a King: tyll he was taken and hanged for his paines, and so were most of them in many places.

Iohn Wraw, who was leader of them that rose at Mil­denhall Iohn Wrawe one of the leaders of Rebels, hanged. 1383. and Burie, was drawne and hanged, though many thought he should haue béene redéemed with money.

In the raigne of King Henry the fourth.

KIng Henrie the fourth enioying the Crowne of Eng­land, and kéeping his Christmasse in his Castell at The Noble men rebelled against King Henrie the fourth, and priui­lie conspired to murder him. 1399. Windsore, Iohn Holland late Duke of Excester and Earle of Huntington, Thomas late Duke of Surrie and Earle of Kent, Edward late Duke of Aumerle and Earle of Rut­land, sonne to the Duke of Yorke, Iohn Montacute Earle of Salisburie, Thomas Spencer Earle of Glocester, Sir Ralphe Lumley, Sir Thomas Blunt, Sir Benedic Cely Knights, with other that ioyned with them, conspired against King Henrie, and appointed priuilie to murder him, vnder the couller of Iusting and other Pastimes pretended. But the King vnderstanding of theyr pre­tence by the Mayor of London, left VVindsore, and came in his company to London, so that they missed of him when they came to VVindsore, where they entred the Castell with foure hundred men. When they sawe how they were deceyued, they came to Sunning, where the Quéen that was wife to King Richard deposed lay, where they perswaded the houshold, that King Richard, who be­fore was deposed from his aucthoritie, and kept prisoner in Pomfret Castel, was as then escaped out of prison, and they would goe to him. From thence they went to Walling­ford, afterward to Abington, warning the people to take [Page] Armes vppon them, and to goe méete their olde King Ri­chard. Then they came to Circester, where they bruted that King Richard was in company with them, and to make their words of the better credite, they had gotten a Chaplaine of King Richards called Madeleine, so like him in all proportion and fauour, as the one could hardlie he knowne from the other. This Chaplaine they had put in The people of the Towne fought against the Re­belles, and tooke the cheefest of them, and behea­ded them. Armour, with a Crowne on his Helmette, that all men might take him for King Richard: but the people of the Towne remembring their duetie to their Prince, mis­lyked of their procéedings, wherevpon they fought against them, and at length tooke the chéefest of them, and led them to the Abbay there, where they put them in a fayre cham­ber vnder safe custodie. Then the Lordes séeing the people so vehement in duetie to their King, stoode in great feare, and imagined by what meanes they might escape foorth of their handes, so they caused some of their seruauntes to set fire on certaine houses in the Towne, thinking the people would haue such regard to slake the fire, as they would be glad to forsake them: but it chaunced farre contrarie, for the people then increased more and more in rage against them, and drew them by violence into the Market place, where they beheaded the Duke of Excester and the Earle of Salisburie, and six and twentie of their attendants were led to Oxforde, where they were beheaded in the Castell, also Sir Thomas Blunt Knight was beheaded with them. The wéeke next following, Thomas Spencer Earle of Glo­cester was beheaded at Bristowe, and at the same tyme, Iohn Holland Earle of Huntington, and brother to King Richard on the Mothers side, was beheaded at Plashie in Essex, and at London was beheaded Sir Barnard Brocas, Iohn Madeleine the Priest that was so like King Richard, and an other Priest called VVilliam Feribe, and thus the traytors sped for rebelling against their King.

There was found in the Kinges bedde cloathes, an yron with thrée sharpe pikes, slender and round standing vp­right, King Henrie escapeth a great daunger. 1401. layde there by some traytour, that when the King [Page 7] should haue layde him downe, he might haue thrust him­selfe vppon them: but by Gods assistaunce he escaped that trayterous deuise.

A Priest of VVarwicke, who conspired against King A Priest, a Prior, and a Doctor of Diuinitie being a Gray Frier, were all executed for treason. 1403. Henrie, was drawne, hanged, and quartered. Also VValter VValdocke Priour of Laude in Leicester sheyre, for tray­terous spéeches against the King, was hanged and headed. Moreouer, one Richard Friseby, Doctour of Diuinitie, a­uouched, that in the quarrell of King Richard, (who was deposed for his euill gouernement, and was likewise dead) he would fight against any man, euen to the death: for which traiterous wordes, he was condemned, drawne and hanged in his religious habite and wéede. And not long af­ter Sir Roger Claringdon Knight, with him an Esquier and a Yeoman were beheaded, and eight Gray Friers hanged and headed at London, and two at Leicester, all of them executed for trayterous wordes against the King.

Thomas Percy Earle of Worcester, Sir Richard Ver­non, The Earle of Worcester, Sir Richard Vernon, and the Baron of Kindertō behea­ded, for rebelling against the king. 1404. the Baron of Kinderton, with diuers other rebellious persons, put themselues in Armes against the King, néere vnto Shrewesburie, in a place called Olde Feeld, alias Bull Feeld: but the Earle of vvorcester, the Baron of Kinder­ton, and Sir Richard Vernon, were taken and beheaded at Shrewesburie.

Henrie Percie Earle of Northumberland, Richard Scrope Archbishop of Yorke, Thomas Mowbray Earle Marshall, Thomas Lord Bardolphe and other, conspired against the King, and caused the Cittizens of Yorke to take part The Archbishop of Yorke, and the Earle Marshall beheaded, for re­belling against the King. 1406. with them in their rebellion: but the Kinges power fol­lowing them, forced the Earle of Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolphe to take their flight into Scotland, but the Archbishop of Yorke and the Earle Marshall were ta­ken, and beheaded at Yorke.

A Squire of VVales named Rice ap Dee, who had A Welch Rebell executed. 1412. long tyme rebelled against the King, was brought to London, and there was drawne, hanged and quarte­red.

In the raigne of King Henrie the fift.

THe King kéeping his Christmasse at his Manour of El­tham A secrete conspi­racie against the King, according as it is set downe by I. Stowe. seuen miles from London, was giuen to vnder­stand that certaine had conspired against him, eyther to haue taken, or suddenlie haue slaine him and his brethren on Twelfth day at night: wherevpon the King sent word to the Mayor of London, that he should arrest all suspicious persons. The Maior foorthwith caused euery Alderman in his Warde to kéepe great watch, and about ten of the clock at night went himselfe with a strong power, to the signe of the Axe without Bishops gate, where he apprehended the man of the house, named Iohn Burgate Carpenter, and se­uen other, and sent them to Eltham: where they confessed before the King, that they were confederat with Sir Iohn Oldcastel, to fight against him and his Lords in S. Gyles Féeld aboue Holbourne. On the morrowe after Twelfth day, the King remooued priuilie to UUestminster, and with King Henrie kept the Feeld by Saint Giles aboue Holbourne. a great Armie kept the Féeld by Saint Gyles, for he was warned that Sir Iohn Oldcastell, and Sir Roger Acton, would be in the same Féeld on the next daye following, with fiue & twentie thousand people: and the same night were taken more then foure score men in Armour of the same faction. Also the King being tolde of an Ambushment in Harengay Parke, sent thither certaine Lordes, who tooke many of them: among whome was one VVilliam Murle, a ritch Mault man or Brewer of Dunstable, who had his two horsses trapped with golde following him, and a payre of gylt Spurres in his bosome, for he thought to haue béene made Knight on the morrowe. The twelfth day of Ianuarie, thrée score and nine of them were con­demned of treason at VVestminster, and on the morrowe after, seuen and thirtie of them were drawne from the Tower of London to Newgate, and so to Saint Gyles, and [Page 8] there in a place called Fickettes féeld, were all hanged, Many of the Re­belles hanged & burnt in Fickets feeld, and others executed soone after, for the same offence. 1414. and seuen of them burnt gallowes and all. The ninetenth day of Ianuarie were drawne and hanged Sir Iohn Be­uerley Priest, Iohn Burgate Carpenter, a text writer in Saint Iohns stréete, and a Glouer on London Bridge, and shortlie after Sir Roger Acton Knight was taken, who on the tenth of Februarie was drawne, hanged and buried vnder the gallowes.

On the last of Iulie was discouered a great conspiracie against the King by thrée Lordes, in whome aboue all the Three Noble men, whome the King best trusted and made great account of, con­spyred his death. 1416. rest he reposed greatest trust and confidence: the chéefest of them was Henrie Scrope Lord Treasorer, the second was Richard Earle of Cambridge, brother to Edwarde Duke of Yorke, and the third was Sir Thomas Grey a Knight of the North. These thrée had caused Edmund Earle of March to sweare vppon a Booke, not to disclose their councell, and then they tolde him, that they intended to kyll the King, and to make the saide Edmund King, the which if he refused to take vpon him, they would likewise kyll him. The Earle prayed them to giue him one houres space, to take aduisement what he were best to doo, which being graunted him, the Earle went secretlie and told the King thereof, who caused them foorthwith to be apprehen­ded and brought before him, where they confessed the trea­son: for the which, on the sixt of August they were arreig­ned in the Kinges presence, and the same day all thrée be­headed. The Earle was buried head and all: but the other two headdes were sent the one to Yorke, and the other to New Castell vpon Tine to be set vp.

Iohn Bennet Woolman, who had scattered about Lon­don Iohn Bennet, ex­ecuted for scatte­ring seditious Lybelles in Lon­don. 1417. diuers Scedules full of sedition, was drawne, hanged, and beheaded on Michaelmas daye: and the eight daye of October, a Parchment-maker of Trylmell stréete, was drawne, hanged and headed, for harbouring Sir Iohn Oldcastell, contrarie to the Kinges commaundement.

In the raigne of King Henrie the sixt.

AT Abington were gathered together a great many William Mande­uill, Captaine of a lewde company of rebellious per­sons at Abingtō, executed there, and others of his company in di­uers other places. 1433. of lewde and rebellious persons, who sought to make a great vprore in the Realme: but the Lord Protec­tor rode thether with his company, and arrested there the Bayliffe of the Towne, named William Mandeuill a Weauer, who was appointed for their Captaine, and he had named himselfe Iacke Sharpe of Wigmers Lande in Wales. When he was examined, he confessed that he meant to haue doone many mischéefes, especiallie against Priests, so that he would haue made their heads as cheape as Shéepes heads, that is to saye, thrée for a penny, or as some write ten for a penny: he was drawne, hanged, and headed at Abington, and his head was sent to London and set on the Bridge, the rest of his company were executed in diuers other places, for example to other.

The thirtéenth day of Iulie following, one Richard Rus­sell Richard Russell executed. Wooll-man, was drawne, hanged, and quartered: for that he would haue made Dukes and Carles at his owne pleasure.

Roger Bolingbrooke a great Astronomer, with Tho­mas Southwell a Chanon of Saint Stephens Chappell at Conspiratours of the Kings death by Necromancy. VVestminster, were taken as conspiratours of the Kinges death: for it was saide, that the same Roger should labour to consume the Kinges person by waye of Necromancie, and the saide Thomas should say Masses in the Lodge of Harnesey Parke beside London, vppon certaine Instru­ments, with the which the saide Roger should vse his craft of Necromancie against the Faith, and was assenting to the saide Roger in all his workes. And the fiue and twen­tie day of Iulie being Sunday, Roger Bolingbrooke with all his Instruments of Necromancie, that is to say, a pain­ted Chayre wherein he was wunt to sit, vpon the fowre [Page 9] corners of which Chayre stoode fowre swordes, and vpon euerie sworde an Image of Copper hanging, with many other Instrumentes beside: he stoode on a high Scaffolde before Paules Crosse, holding a sworde in his right hand, and a Scepter in his left, arrayed in a meruailous strange attire, and after the Sermon was doone, by Maister Lawe Bishoppe of Rochester, he abiured all Articles belonging to the Arte of Necromancie, or against the Faith. After­ward, these two were condemned of Treason, Thomas South well died in the Tower of London, but Roger Bo­lingbrooke Roger Boling­brook executed. 1442. was drawne from the Tower to Tiborne, and there hanged and quartered.

Iohn Dauid seruaunt to William Catur, an Armorer A Combate be­tweene a Maister and his seruaunt, who appeached him of treason. 1447. dwelling in Saint Dunstones Parishe in Fléetstréete, ap­peached his Maister of Treason: and a day being assigned for them to fight a Combate together in Smithféeld, the Maister was there slaine by his saide seruaunt.

The Duke of Glocester being arrested by the Lord Beau­mont The Duke of Glocester arre­sted, died soone after, but fiue of his men were hanged, and after pardoned. 1448. high Cōstable, the Duke of Buckingham, & the Duke of Sommerset, & other, for speciall matters, within few daies after he died with sorrow: but two & thirty of his principal seruauntes being sent to diuers prisons, fiue of them were arraigned and condemned at London, whose names were Sir Roger Chamberlain Knight, Middleton, Herbert, and Arteyse Esquiers, and Richard Nedham Gentleman, all which fiue were drawne from the Tower of London to Ti­borne, and there hanged, but they were let downe quicklie, stript naked, marked with a knife to be quartred, and then a charter was shewed them for their liues: but the Yeo­man of the Crowne had their liuelode, and the hangman had their cloathes.

Thomas Thany, otherwise called Blew beard a Fuller, Blew beard han­ged for raising rebellion. 1450. was taken beside Canterburie for raysing a rebellion: who afterward was hanged and quartered.

The Commons of Kent arose against the King, hauing to their Captaine Iacke Cade who named himselfe Morti­mer, The Commons of Kent rebelled, Iacke Cade be­ing their Cap­taine. 1451. Couzin to the Duke of Yorke, and of some he was [Page] called Iohn Amend all: this Captaine and his company came to Blacke Heath, and there kept the Féeld more then a moneth, pilling and spoyling the Countrie round about. At length the Kinges Proclamation going abroad against the Rebelles, Iacke Cade was taken by a Gentleman of Kent named Alexander Eden, in a Garden in Sussex, there was he slaine at Hothféeld, afterward brought in a Cart to London, where he was quartered, his head set on London Bridge, and his quarters sent to diuers places in Kent: eight men were executed at Canterburie for the same of­fence, and in other Townes of Kent and Sussex was doone the lyke execution.

In the raygne of King Edward the fourth.

WAlter Walker, a Grocer that dwelt in Chepe, for Walter Walker beheaded for wordes against the King. 1461. certaine wordes that he spake touching King Ed­ward, was beheaded in Smithféeld on the twelfth day of March.

Nicholas Faunt Mayor of Canterburie, Spicing, Quintin and other, were hanged and headed at Canterburie, for re­belling The Mayor of Canterbury and other executed for rebellion. against King Edward: the heads of Spicing and Quintin were set on Algate of London.

Thomas the Bastard Faulconbridge, who tooke parte The Bastarde Faulconbridge lost his head. 1472. with the Rebelles in Kent against the King, was taken at Southhampton, and was beheaded at the Castell of Milde­ham in Yorkeshiere, his head was sent to London, and there set on the Bridge.

Thomas Burdet an Esquier of Warwickeshiere, sonne to Sir Nicholas Burdet, for speaking of Treaso­nable Thomas Burdet beheaded for treason. 1478. wordes against the King: was condemned of Trea­son, drawne from the Tower of London to Tiborne, and there beheaded.

In the raigne of King Edward the fift.

TO set downe the troublesome accidentes happening in this Kinges raigne, would require a verie large dis­course, & growe to greater quantitie then the scope that I haue intended: beside, for that troubles did still follow one in an others necke, both in his life time, as also after his death, by reason he left two Sonnes, who were so young in yéeres, as they could not take the gouernment vpon them, I will therefore referre you to the Chronicles, which at large will certifie you of that, which I am loth héere to re­hearse: yet it shall not be a misse to report vnto you, howe the King lying on his death bedde, desired to pacifie and set in good agréement, those that had long time béene heauie enimies, especiallie the Lord Marques Dorset, the Quéens The Lord Mar­ques Dorset, and the Lord Ha­stings, great eni­mies. Sonne by her first Husband, and William the Lorde Ha­stinges, a Noble man then Lord Chamberlaine: and for his Highnesse would gladlie sée all enmitie ceased before he died, he called them into his Chamber, when lyfting him­selfe vp, and being vp helde with pillowes, he vttered to them a woorthy Oration, which Oration, for that it she­weth notable examples to vnsteadie and wilfull heads, and deliuereth good councell to all ingenerall, I haue béene so bolde to insert it héere, to shew the Princelie aduise of so noble a King, as also to giue some light of the troubles in those dayes.

And therewithall the King enduring no longer to sitte vp, laide him downe on his right side, his face towardes them: and none was there present that could refraine from wéeping. But the Lordes recomforting him with as good wordes as they could, and aunswering for the time as they thought to stand with his pleasure, there in his presence (as by their wordes appeared) eche forgaue o­ther, and ioyned their handes together, when (as it af­ter appeared by their déedes) their heartes were farre a sunder.

The young King (after the decease of his Father) came towardes London, when the Duke of Glocester his Unckle began greatlie to thirst for the kingdome, and wexed very enuious that so young a Prince should reigne: whervpon he depriued the young King of them that were néerest a­bout him, and whome he thought would hinder his aspi­ring minde. First Sir Anthonie Wooduile Lord Riuers, The Lord Riuers put in warde. and brother to the Quéene, who had the gouernaunce and ordering of the young King, he caused to put him in du­raunce, and afterward euen in the Kinges presence, he procured a quarrell to be picked with the Lord Richard Grey, the Kings other Brother by the Mother, and arre­sted him and Sir Thomas Vaughan Knight, and so farre The Duke of Glocester caused the Lord Riuers, the Lord Grey, and Sir Thomas Vaughan to be beheaded. procéeded he in his determination, by the aide of the Duke of Buckingham and others, as the Lord Riuers, the Lord Grey & Sir Thomas Vaughan were sent into the North partes to sundrie prisons, but afterward were all behea­ded at Pomfret. Then did he take vpon him the gouernance of the young King, and was called the Lord Protectour: when hauing the King in his custodie, he could not be yet contented, except he had the other brother too, and therefore by meanes of the Lord Cardinall, he preuailed in his pur­pose, and brought the other Childe to the King his Bro­ther into the Bishops Pallace at Paules, and from thence [Page 12] through the Cittie honourablie into the Tower, out of The young King and his Brother brought to the Tower. the which after that day they neuer came abroade. When the Protector had both the Children thus in his custody, he opened his intent more boldly, both to certaine other men, as also chéefelie to the Duke of Buckingham, that he would néedes be King himselfe in all the haste, and he should haue the Dukes aide to make him King, besides, the Protectors onelie lawfull Sonne should marie the Dukes daughter, and that the Protectour should graunt him the quiet posses­sion of the Earledome of Hertforde, and beside these re­questes of the Duke, the Protectour promised him of his owne minde a great quantitie of the Kings Treasure, and of his houshold stuffe.

In bréefe, the Protectour taketh vpon him to be King, The Protector crowned King, by the name of King Richard the third. and so preuailed that he was crowned King: but when he remembred that his two Nephewes were liuing in the Tower, and one of them the right King in déede, he per­swaded himselfe (as verie well he might) that men would account him to haue no right to the Realme, therefore he thought to dispatch them out of the way, as though the kil­ling of his kinsemen could amend his cause, & make him a kindlie King. Upon this he sent one Iohn Greene whome King Richard sendeth to haue the two young Princes put to death in the Tower. he specially trusted, to Sir Robert Brakenburie Constable of the Tower, with a letter & credence also, that the same Sir Robert should in any wise put the two Chyldren to death: but when Iohn Greene had doone his errand to Sir Robert, he plainlie aunswered, that by no meanes he would put them to death. When King Richard perceyued he could not preuaile that way, he brake the matter to Sir Iames Tirrell, whome he found verie tractable to his in­tent, wherefore he sent him on the morrowe with a Let­ter to Sir Robert Brakenburie, by which Letter he was commaunded to delyuer to Sir Iames all the keies of the Tower for one night, to the ende he might there accom­plish the Kinges pleasure, in such thinges as he had giuen him commaundement. After which Letter deliuered, and the keies receiued, Sir Iames appointed the night en­suing [Page] to destroy the two young Princes, deuising before and preparing the meanes.

The Prince so soone as the Protectour had lefte that name, and tooke vpon himselfe to be King, was thereof in­fourmed, The young Prince informed that his Vnckle would be King, and his aunswere to the same. that he should not reigne, but his Unckle would haue the Crowne. At which wordes the Prince being greatlie abashed, fetching a heauie sigh, saide: Alas, I would mine Unckle would let me haue my life yet, though I loose my kingdome. Then he that tolde him the tale, vsed him with good wordes, and put him in the best comfort he could: But foorthwith was the Prince and his Brother both shut vp, and all other remooued from them, onelie one The Prince & his Brother shut vp close prisoners. Blacke Will, or Willam Slaughter excepted, who was set to serue them and sée them sure. After which time, the Prince neuer tied his pointes, nor did any thing of himself, but with the young babe his Brother lingred in thought and heauines, till this traiterous death deliuered them out of that wretched estate. For Sir Iames Tirrell deuised that Sir Iames ap­pointed who should murder the Princes. they should be murdered in their beds: to the execution whereof he appointed Myles Forrest, one of the foure that kept them, a fellowe fleshed in murder before time, and to him he ioyned Iohn Dighton his owne horse-kéeper, a big, broad, square, strong knaue.

Then all the other being remooued from them, this Myles Forrest and Iohn Dighton, about midnight (the sielie Children lying in their beddes) came into the Cham­ber, and suddenlie lapped them vp amongst the cloathes: and they had so bewrapped them and intangled them, kée­ping downe by force the fetherbed and pillowes harde vnto their mouthes, that within a while, smoothered and stifled, their breath failing them, they gaue vp to God their inno­cent The young King and his Brother murdered. soules into the ioies of Heauen, leauing to the tor­mentors their bodies dead in the bedde. Which after that the cruell wretches perceiued, first by strugling with the paines of death, and after long lying still to be throughlie dead, they laide their bodies naked vpon the bedde, and fet­ched Sir Iames to sée them: who vpon the sight of them, [Page 13] caused those murderers to burie them at the staire foote, méetlie déepe in the ground, vnder a great heape of stones. Then rode Sir Iames in great haste to King Richard, and King Richard thanketh Syr Iames for mur­dering the Prin­ces. shewed him all the manner of the murder, who gaue him great thankes, and (as some say) there made him Knight: but he allowed not their burying in so vile a corner, say­ing, that he would haue them buried in a better place, be­cause they were a Kinges sonnes. Upon this, as it is re­ported, a Priest belonging to Sir Robert Brakenburie, tooke vp the bodies againe, and secretlie enterred them in such a place, as by the occasion of his death, who onelie knew it, could neuer since come to light. Uerie troth it is, and well knowne, that at such time as Sir Iames Tirrell was in the Tower, for treason committed against the most famous Prince King Henrie the seuenth, both Dighton and he were examined, and they confessed the murder in manner aboue written, but whether the bodies were re­mooued they could nothing tell.

And thus were these two noble Princes, these innocent tender children, borne of a most royall blood, brought vp in great wealth, likelie long to liue, reigne and rule in the Realme, shortlie shut vp in prison, and priuilie thus mur­dered, their bodies cast God knowes where, by the cruell ambition of their vnnaturall Unckle, and his despightfull tormentors. Which thinges on euerie part well ponde­red, God neuer gaue this Realme a more notable example, neither in what vncertainty standeth this worldlie weale, or what mischéefe worketh the proude enterprises of an high heart, or finallie, what wretched end ensueth such vn­naturall Myles Forrest rotted in peeces to death. crueltie. For first to begin with the bloody actors of this murder, Myles Forrest at saint Martins péece-meale rotted away. Dighton yet walketh (as are mine Authors Dighton in good forwardnes to be hanged. wordes at that time) in good possibilitie to be hanged ere he die. Sir Iames Tirrell died at the Tower Hill, being Syr Iames Tyrrel beheaded for treason. beheaded for treason. King Richard himselfe was after­ward slaine in the féeld, hacked and hewed at his enimies handes, harried on horsebacke dead, his heaire in despight King Richard himselfe slaine in the feeld. [Page] torne and tugged like a curre Dogge. In his life time, by credible report of such as were secrete with his Chamber­laine, after this abhominable déede was doone, he neuer was quiet in his minde: he neuer thought himselfe sure, where he went abroade, he still priuilie looked about him, his body was secretly fenced, his hand euer vpon his Dag­ger, his countenaunce and manners like one alwaies rea­dy to strike againe, sore wearied with care and watch, he rather slumbred then slept, troubled with fearful dreames, suddenlie sometime he sterted vp, leapt out of his bed, and ran about the Chamber, so was his restlesse heart continu­allie tossed and tumbled, with the tedious impression and stormie remembraunce of his abhominable déede. A no­table example doublesse, to all such as take like enterprise in hand, that cannot be contented to liue within compasse of duetie, but their aspiring thoughts must stretch furder, then either their habillitie will serue them, or God suffer them. The seate of a Prince is a place of great Maiesty, and none but such as GOD hath appointed, can containe themselues in that Royall roome: then if they wilfullie couet that place, for which both reason and duetie sayth, they are farre vnfit, such is the iustice of him, by whome Kinges rule, and Princes swaie their Soueraigntie, as the pleasure they thought to haue in that high Office, is a verie dagger to their hearts, and such an eating woorme to their consciences, as by this example before you maye plainlie perceiue. Let Princes therefore be honoured and feared as they ought, and let Subiectes liue in true and faithfull obedience to them, because it is a chéefe and an especiall article of their duetie.

In the raigne of King Henrie the seuenth.

ON the two and twentith day of Februarie, were ar­raigned Certaine persons executed for ma­king seditious & slaunderous Ly­belles against the King. 1494. in the Guild Hall of London foure persons, to [Page 14] wit, Thomas Bagnall, Iohn Scot, Iohn Heth, and Iohn Kennington, who were Sanctuarie men of Saint Mar­tins le Graund in London, and latelie before were taken out of the saide Sanctuarie, for forging of seditious Billes, to the slaunder of the King & some of his Councel: for which, thrée of them were adiudged to die, so on the fiue and twen­tie day of Februarie, the saide thrée persons, with a Flem­ming and a Yeoman of the Crowne, were all fiue executed at Tiborne.

Pierce or Perkin Werbecke, a Flemming borne, by the Peter Werbecke a Flemming, na­med himselfe King Edwardes second Sonne: for which diuers of his company were executed in sundry places. 1497. councell of Margaret Dutches of Burgoigne, named him­selfe Richard of Yorke, King Edwardes second Sonne: he and his company arriued at Deale in Kent, where when they perceiued they could haue no comfort of the Countrie in their rebellion, they withdrewe themselues to their Ships againe. But the Mayor of Sandwich encountred with them, and tooke aliue of them one hundred, thrée score and nine persons, among the which were fiue Captaines, Mountford, Corbette, Whitbelt, Quintine and Gemine. And on the twelfth of Iulie, Iohn Peche Esquier and She­rife of Kent, brought vnto London Bridge these hun­dred thrée score and nine personnes, where the Sherifes of London receiued them, and conueied them in Cartes and long ropes to the Tower of London, and to Newgate. Not long after, a hundred and fiftie of them were hanged in Kent, Essox, Sussex and Norfolke, the residue were executed at Tiborne, and Wapping in the Wose beside London.

A Commotion was made by the Commons of Corne­vvall, who vnder the leading of Iames Tuchet of Audley, A commotion a­gainst the King by the commons of Cornewall, vnder the con­duct of the Lord Audley, and Mi­chael Ioseph a Blacke Smith. 1498. Lord of Audley, with Michael Ioseph, a Horse Farrer or Blacksmith of Bodman, and other, came to Blacke heath, where the King mette with them, and discomfited the Re­belles, taking their Captaines: and there were slaine of the Rebelles about thrée hundred, and a thousand and fiue hundred of them taken, the King gaue to them that tooke them their goodes. The Lord Audley was beheaded on the Tower hyll, and the Blacke Smith, and Flamoke a [Page] Lawier were hanged, headed and quartered at Tiborne.

A Shoomakers sonne in Bishoppes gate stréete of Lon­don, was hanged at Saint Thomas Watrings on Shroue A Shoomakers sonne hanged, for fayning him selfe to be the Earle of War­wicke. 1499. Tuesdaie, for naming himselfe to be Edward Earle of VVarwicke, Sonne to George Duke of Clarence: which Edward Earle of VVarvvicke was then (and had béene all the raigne of this King) kept secret prisoner in the Tower of London.

The aforenamed Perkin Werbeck, that named himselfe Perkin Werbeck hanged. 1500. King Edwardes Sonne, and Iohn a Water Maior of Corfe, were executed at Tiborne.

In the raigne of King Henrie the eight, of famous memorie.

EDward Duke of Buckingham was accused of high trea­son, Edward Duke of Buckingham cō ­demned for trea­son, & beheaded 1522. for which he was apprehended and sent to the To­wer of London on the sixtéenth day of Aprill, before which time the Dukes Chauncellour was taken, who had confes­sed matter of high treason concerning the Kinges person. Shortlie after the Duke was arraigned at VVestminster, where were brought against him as witnesses, Sir Gil­bert Perke his Chauncellour, Iohn de la Court his Con­fessour, Charles Kneuet Esquier, and a Monke, Priour of Henton. In the end he was found guiltie, and had iudge­ment to be drawne, hanged and quartered: so on the se­uenth day of Maie following, the saide Edward Duke of Buckingham, Earle of Hereford, Stafford and Northhamp­ton, was beheaded on the Tower hyll: such is the ende of ambition, the credite of false Prophecies, and of euill life.

In December, at the Cittie of Couentrie, Frauncis Phil­lip, Conspiracie at Couentrie, to haue taken the Castell of Kil­lingwoorth, and to make warre against the King. 1524. Schoolemaister to the Kinges Henxmen, Christopher Pickering Clarke of the Kinges Larder, and Anthonie Manuile Gentleman, intended to haue taken the Kinges Treasure of his Subsedie, as the Collectours of the same came towardes London, and therewith they intended to [Page 15] haue raysed men, and to haue taken the Castell of Killing­vvoorth, and then to haue made battaile against the King: for the which, they were drawne, hanged and quartered at Tiborne the eleuenth of February, the rest of their conspi­racie were executed at Couentrie.

Elizabeth Barton the holie Maide of Kent, and diuerse The holy Mayde of Kent & other executed. 1535. other of her faction, were drawne from the Tower of Lon­don to Tiborne, & there hanged and headed, &c. for sundrie conspiracies by them committed, in the matter of diuorce betwéene the Kinges Maiestie, and Quéene Katherine.

The nine and twentie day of Aprill, the Priour of the Certaine Char­terhouse Monks, and other execu­ted for treason. 1536. Charterhouse at London, the Priour of Beuall, the Priour of Exham, Reinoldes a Brother of Sion, & Iohn Haile Ui­care of Thistlewoorth, were all condemned of high treason: so the fourth day of Maie following, they were drawne, hanged and quartered at Tiborne, their heads and quar­ters set on the Gates of the Cittie, all sauing one quarter, which was set on the Charterhouse at London.

The eightéene day of Iune, thrée Monkes of the Char­terhouse Charterhouse Monkes execu­ted for treason. at London, named Exmewe, Middlemore, and Nidigate, were drawne to Tiborne, and there hanged and quartered for treason.

The two and twentie day of Iune, Doctor Iohn Fisher Bishop Fisher & Syr Thomas More beheaded. 1536. was beheaded on the Tower hyll, and his head was set on London Bridge: and the sixt of Iulie following, Sir Thomas More was beheaded on the Tower hyll, for deny­ing the Kinges supremacie.

Thomas Fitz-garret, Sonne and heyre to the Earle of The Earle of Kyldare and fiue of his Vnckles executed. Kildare, was beheaded, & fiue of his Unckles were drawne to Tiborne, and there hanged and quartered for treason. In the same Moneth, which was Februarie, Nicholas Rebellion in Yorkeshiere. Musgraue, Thomas Gylbie and other, stirred a new rebel­lion, and besieged the Cittie of Carlile, from whence they were driuen, and many of them taken and put to death. Also the same moneth, Sir Frauncis Bigot, Sir Robert An other conspi­racie. Constable, and other began a conspiracie, and for the same were attainted.

[Page] The nine and twenty day of March, twelue men of Lin­colne Lincolneshier re­belles executed at Tiborne. 1537, were drawne to Tiborne, & there hanged and quar­tered, for the rebellion in Lincolneshiere: fiue were Prie­stes, and seuen were Lay men, one was an Abbot, a Suf­fragan, Doctour Mackerell, an other was the Uicar of Louthe in Lincolneshiere, and two Priests.

In Aprill, through certaine Commissions sent into A commotion in Sommerset­shiere, and diuers of them execu­ted, 1538. Sommersetshiere to take vp Corne, the people began to make an iusurrection, which was by Maister Pawlet and others alayed: the beginners thereof to the number of thrée score were condemned, whereof fouretéene were han­ged and quartered, one of them was a woman.

Frier Forrest was hanged by the middle in a chaine of Frier Forrest hanged & burnt. 1539. yron, and then burnt in Smithféeld, for denying the King to be supreame head of the Church, and with him was burnt the Image of Daruel Gatherine of Wales.

Hugh Ferringdon Abbot of Reading, and two Priests Abbots of Rea­ding and Glastē ­burie executed. 1540. named Ruge and Onion, for denying the Kinges suprema­cie, were hanged and quartered at Reading: the same day was the Abbot of Glastenburie Richard Whitting, hanged and quartered on Torre hill beside his Monasterie, for the same cause.

Thomas Lord Cromwell Earle of Essex, being in the Councell Chamber, was suddenlie apprehended and com­mitted The Lord Crom­well beheaded. to the Tower of London: the nine and twentie day of Iulie following, he was attainted by Parliament of heresie and treason, and the eight and twentie day of Iulie he was beheaded on the Tower hill, with the Lord Walter Hungerford of Heitisburie.

Rober Barnes, Thomas Gerrard and William Ierome Six Priests, three burnt, and three hanged. Priestes, were burnt in Smithféed: and the same day Thomas Abel, Edward Powel and Richard Fetherstone, were hanged and quartered, for denying the Kinges su­premacie.

Laurance Cooke a Priour of Dancalfe, William Horne Seuen executed at Tyborne for treason. 1541. a lay Brother of the Charterhouse, Giles Horne Gentle­man, Clement Philpot, Edmond Bromham, Darby Ken­ham, [Page 16] Robert Bird, and Iaruis Carrowe, were all put to death for treason.

In Aprill certaine persons beganne a new rebellion in A new rebellion in Yorkeshiere. Yorkeshiere, who were shortly after taken and put to exe­cution in diuers places: of which Leigh a Gentleman, Tatarsal a Clothyer, and Thorneton a Yeoman, were put to death at London. Sir Iohn Neuell Knight, and ten per­sons more, were put to death at Yorke.

The Lord Leonard Grey being endighted of certaine The Lord Leo­nard Grey be­headed. points of treason, by him committed, and was alleadged a­gainst him, was arraigned at Westminster: but he dischar­ged the Iurie, and confessed the endightment, wherevppon he had iudgement, and was beheaded on the Tower hyll on Saint Peters euen.

The first day of Iulie a Welch minstrell was hanged A Welch min­strell hanged. 1542. and quartered for singing of Songs, which were interpre­ted to be prophecying against the King.

Germaine Gardner, and Larke Parson of Chelsea, were Germaine Gard­ner and other executed. 1544. executed at Tiborne for denying the Kinges supremacie, with them was executed for other offences one Single­ton: and shortlie after, Ashbie was executed for the su­premacie.

In the raigne of the noble Prince King Edward the sixt.

IN the month of Maie, by meanes of a Proclamation for A commotion in Sommersetshiere [...] enclosures, the commons of Sommersetshiere and [...] made a commotion: but Sir Willam Her­berd slew and executed many of the rebelles.

Also the commons of Cornewall and Deuonshiere rose Commotion in Cornewall and Deuonshiere. against the Noblemen and Gentlemen, and besieged the Cittie of Excester, which was valiantlie defended. Against these Rebelles was sent Iohn Lord Russell, Lord priuie Seale, with a number of Soldiours, who entred the Cittie of Excester the fift day of August, where they slewe and [Page] tooke prisoners of the Rebelles more then foure thousand, and after hanged diuerse of them in the Town and Coun­trie about.

Diuers persons were apprehended as aiders of the fore­said Certaine execu­ted for ayding the Rebelles. Rebels, of the which one was hanged within Algate, and an other at the Bridge foote toward Southwarke, both on Marie Magdalens day.

The Rebelles in Norfolke and Suffolke encamped them The Rebelles in Norfolke and Susfolke encam­ped themselues. selues at Mount Surrey, in a wood called Saint Nicholas Wood, néere vnto Norvvich, against whome, Sir Iohn Dudley Earle of VVarvvicke, went with an Armie, where, both he and a great number of Gentlemen méeting with the Rebelles, were in such daunger, as they thought all to haue died in that place. But God that confoundeth the purpose of Rebelles, brought it so to passe, that as well there as in all other places, they were partlie by power constrained, partlie by promise of their pardon, perswaded to submit themselues to their Prince. The Earle of War­vvicke Robert Ket Cap­taine of the Re­belles taken, and many of them slaine and execu­ted. entred the Cittie of Norwich the seuen and twen­tie day of August, when he had slaine aboue fiue thousand of the Rebelles, and taken their chéefe Captaine Robert Ket of VVindham Tanner, who might dispend in landes fiftie poundes by yéere, and was woorth in mooueables a­boue a thousand Markes, and when he had put to execu­tion diuers of the Rebelles, in sundrie places about Nor­wich, he returned.

About this time also, a commotion began at Semer in the North-riding of Yorkeshiere, and continued in the East-riding, Commotion in Yorkeshiere. & there ended: the principall raisers whereof were William Ombler of East-hesterton Yeoman, Thomas Dale parish Clarke of Semer, and Steuenson of Semer. They be­ing preuented by the Lord President from rising at Win­tringham, they drewe to a place at Semer by the Sea coast, and there by night rode to the Beacon at Staxton, and set it on fire, and so gathered together a rude route. Then they went to Maister Whites house, and tooke him, and Clopton his wiues brother, Sauadge a merchant of Yorke, [Page 17] and Berie seruaunt to Sir Walter Mildmay, which foure they murdered a mile from Semer, and there left them na­ked, their number increasing to thrée thousand. On the one and twentie day of August the Kinges pardon was offe­red, The Rebelles re­fusing the Kings Pardon, were shortlie after ex­ecuted at Yorke. which Ombler and other refused: who were shortlie after taken and brought to Yorke, where Thomas Dale and other were executed the one and twentie of Septem­ber.

The seuen and twentie day of Ianuarie, Humfrey A, Captaines of the Deuonshiere re­belles executed. rundell Esquier, Thomas Holmes, Winslowe and Berie. Captaines of the Rebelles in Deuonshiere, were hanged and quartered at Tiborne.

The tenth of Februarie, one Bell a Suffolke man, was Bell a Suffolke Rebell executed. 1550. hanged and quartered at Tiborne, for moouing a new re­bellion in Suffolke and Essex.

Richard Lion, Goddard, Gorran, and Richard Ireland, Rebelles of Kent executed. 1551. were executed the fouretéenth day of Maie, for attempting a new rebellion in Kent.

In the raigne of Queene Marie.

WIlliam Constable alias Fetherstone, who caused Let­ters to be cast abroad, that King Edward was aliue, A Millers sonne fayning himselfe to be King Ed­ward, executed. 1556. and to some he had shewed himselfe to be King Edward, was arraigned at the Guild Hall of London, hauing béene once before whipped for the same behauiour, and deliue­red: but now he was condemned, and the thirtéenth daye of March he was drawne, hanged and quartered at Ti­borne.

One Clober, who sometime kept a Schoole at Dys in Foure Rebelles executed at Saint Edmundsburie. 1557. Norfolke, with thrée brethren whose names were Lincoln, made a conspiracie: and being driuen to flight, one Mai­ster Shirman pursued, and tooke him at a Towne called Eye in Suffolke, where he was kept in prison till the next Sessions at Saint Edmundsburie, whether his thrée mates [Page] being brought to him, they were altogether drawne, han­ged and quartered.

Quéene Marie deceassing, Elizabeth, our most gratious and soueraigne Ladie, second Daughter to the noble and victorious Prince King Henrie the eight, to the great com­fort of England enioyed her lawfull, right and iust title, be­ing proclaimed Quéene of England, Fraunce and Ireland, defender of the Faith, &c. Now ceased the time of greuous vexation both in soule and body, and the swéete comfort that euerie godlie minde desired, did shewe it selfe shining in glorie and maiestie: the greater cause haue we there­fore to loue and honour that gratious Ladie, who brought with her such aboundaunce of happines, as neither tongue can woorthelie expresse it, nor any pen sufficientlie set it downe. Thankes be to God who preserued her Grace so woonderfullie, in the time of many threatned troubles and daungers, which by his prouidence she happilie escaped, to our no small ioye and perfect consolation: which trouble­some time of her Graces suffering, I haue héerto annexed, according as it is set downe by that woorthy man Maister Iohn Fox in his Actes and Monuments, the remembrance whereof, may whet vs to be more duetifull vnto her, then a number are, and reioyce in God for our deliueraunce by her admirable patience.

¶ The myraculous preseruation of Lady Elizabeth, now our most dread and grations Queene of England, from extreme calamitie and daunger of life, in the time of Queene Marie her Sister.

BUt when all hath béene saide and told, what The blessed pro­tection of al­mighty God, in preseruing the Lady Elizabeth, in her manifold daungers and troubles. soeuer can be recited, touching the admi­rable working of Gods present hand, in de­fending and deliuering any one person out of thraldome; neuer was there since the me­morie [Page 18] of our Fathers, any example to be shewed, wherein the Lordes mightie power hath more admirablie and bles­sedly shewen it selfe, to the glorie of his owne name, to the comfort of all good hearts, and to the publique felicitie of this whole Realme, then in the miraculous custodie and outscape of this our soueraigne Ladie, now Quéene, then Ladie Elizabeth, in the straite time of Quéene Marie her Sister. In which storie we haue first to consider, in what extreme miserie, sicknesse, feare and perill her Highnesse was: into what care, what trouble of minde, and what The troubles of Lady Elizabeth in Queene Ma­ries tyme. daunger of death she was brought. First with great routes & bands of Armed men (and happy was he that might haue the carrying of her) being fetcht vp as the greatest traitour in the world, clapt in the Tower, and againe tossed from thence, from house to house, from prison to prison, from post to piller, at length also prisoner in her owne house, and garded with a sort of cutthroates, which euer gaped for the spoile, whereby they might be fingering on somewhat.

Secondlie to consider againe we haue, all this notwith­standing, how strangely, or rather miraculouslie from daū ­ger she was deliuered: what fauour and grace she found with the Almightie, who when all helpe of man and hope of recouerie was past, stretched out his mightie protection, and preserued her Highnes, and placed her in this Prince­lie seate of rest and quietnesse, wherin now she sitteth, and long may she sit, the Lord of his glorious mercie graunt we beséech him. In which storie, if I should set foorth at large and at full, all the particulers and circumstaunces therevnto belonging, and as iust occasion of the historie requireth, besides the importunate length of the storie dis­coursed: peraduenture it might mooue offence to some being yet aliue, and trueth might gette me hatred. Yet notwithstanding, I intend (by the grace of Christe) therein to vse such breuitie and moderation, as both may be to the glorie of God, the discharge of the storie, the profite of the Reader, and hurt to none, suppressing the names of some, whome héere although I could receite, yet I thought not to [Page] be more cruell in hurting their name, then the Quéene hath béene mercifull in pardoning their liues.

Therefore now to enter into the discourse of this tragi­call matter, first héere is to be noted, that Quéene Marie The historie of Lady Elizabeth. when she was first Quéen, before she was crowned, would goe no whether, but would haue her by the hand, and send for her to dinner and supper: but after she was crowned, she neuer dined nor supped with her, but kept her aloofe from her, &c. After this it happened, immediatly vpon the rising of Sir Thomas Wiat, that the Ladie Elizabeth and the Lord Courtney, were charged with false suspition of Sir Thomas Wiats rising. Wherevpon Quéene Marie, whether for that surmise, or for what other cause I knowe not, being offended with the Ladie Elizabeth her Sister, at that time lying in her house at Ashridge, the next daye after the rising of Wiat, sent to her thrée of her Counsay­lours, to wit, Sir Richard Southwell, Sir Edward Ha­stings, then Maister of the Horse, and Sir Thomas Corne­walles, Sir Richard Southwell. Sir Edward Hastin­ges, and Sir Tho­mas Cornwalles sent to fetch vp Lady Elizabeth. with their retinue and troupe of Horsemen, to the number of two hundred and fiftie. Who at their suddaine and vnprouided comming, found her at the same time sore sicke in her bedde, and verie weake & féeble of body. Whe­ther when they came, ascending vp to her Graces priuie Chamber, they willed one of her Ladies, whome they met, to declare vnto her Grace, that there were certaine come from the Court, which had a message from the Quéene. Her Grace hauing knowledge thereof, was right glad of their comming: howbeit being then verie sicke, and the night farre spent (which was at ten of the clock) she reque­sted them by the messenger, that they would resort thither in the morning. To this they aunswered, and by the same messenger sent word againe, that they must néedes sée her, & would so doo, in what case so euer she were. Wherat the The vnmanner­linesse of the Knights. Lady being agast, went to shew her Grace their wordes: but they hastilie following her, came rushing as soone as she into her Graces chamber, vnbidden. At whose so sud­den comming into her chamber, her Grace being not a litle [Page 19] amazed, saide vnto them: Is the haste such, that it might not haue pleased you to come to morrowe in the morning? They made answer, that they were right sorie to sée her in that case. And I (quoth she) am not glad to sée you héere at this time of the night. Whervnto they answered, that they came from the Quéene to doo their message & duety: which was to this effect, that the Quéenes pleasure was, that she should be at London the seuenth day of that present month. Wherevnto she saide: Certes, no creature more glad then I to come to her Maiestie, being right sorie that I am not in case at this time to waite on her, as you your selues doo sée, and can well testifie. In déed we sée it true (quoth they) that you doo say, for which we are verie sorie. Albeit we let A straite Com­mission from the Queen, to bring the Lady Eliza­beth either quick or dead. you vnderstand, that our Commission is such, and so stray­neth vs, that we must néedes bring you with vs, either quicke or dead. Whereat she being amazed, sorrowfullie saide, that their Commission was verie sore: but yet not­withstanding she hoped it to be otherwise, & not so straite. Yes verelie said they. Whervpon they called for two Phi­sitions, Doctor Owen and Doctor Wendie, and demaūded of them, whether she might be remooued from thence with life, or no. Whose aunswer and iudgement was, that there was no impediment to their iudgement, to the contrarie, but that she might trauaile without daunger of life. In conclusion, they willed her to prepare against the morning, The gentlenesse of Queene Marie to send her horse Lytter to bring her Sister to trouble. at nine of the clocke to goe with them, declaring that they had brought with them the Quéenes Litter for her. After much talke, the messengers declaring how there was no prolonging of times and daies, so departed to their Cham­ber, being entertained and chéered as appertained to their worshippes. On the next morrowe at the time prescribed, they had her foorth as she was, verie faint and féeble, and in such case, that she was ready to swound thrée or foure times betwéene them. What should I speake héere that cannot well be expressed? What an heauie house there was, to behold the vnreuerent and dolefull dealing of these men, but especially the carefull feare and captiuity of their [Page] innocent Ladie and Mistresse.

Now to procéede in her iourney from Ashridge, all sicke in a Litter, she came to Redborne, where she was garded Lady Elizabeth taketh her iour­ney toward the Queene. all night. From thence to S. Albones, to Sir Ralphe Row­lets house, where she taried that night, both féeble in body, and comfortles in minde. From that place they passed to Maister Doddes house at Mymmes, where also they remai­ned that night: and so from thence she came to Highgate, where she being verie sicke, taried that night and the next day. During which time of her abode there, came many Pursuiuants & Messengers from the Court: but for what purpose I cannot tell. From that place she was conueied to the Court, where by the way came to méete her many Gentlemen, to accompany her Highnesse, which were ve­rie sorie to sée her in that case: but especiallie a great mul­titude Lady Elizabeth brought vp to London. of people there were standing by the way, who then flocking about her Litter, lamented and bewailed greatlie her estate. Now when she came to the Court, her Grace was there straite waies shut vp, and kept as close prisoner a fortnight, which was till Palme Sundaie, séeing neither King nor Quéene, nor Lord nor fréend all that time, but onelie then the Lord Chamberlaine, Sir Iohn Gage, & the Uicechamberlaine, who were attendaunt vnto the doores. About which time Sir William Sentlowe was called be­fore the Councel, to whose charge was laide, that he knew of Wiats rebellion. Which he stoutlie denied, protesting Sir William Sentlowe cōmit­ted to the Tower. that he was a true man both to God and his Prince, defy­ing all Traitours and Rebelles: but being straitly exami­ned, he was in conclusion committed to the Tower.

The Friday before Palme Sunday, the Bishoppe of Winchester, with ninetéene other of the Councel, who shall be héere namelesse, came vnto her Grace from the Quéens Lady Elizabeth charged with Sir Thomas Wiats conspiracie. Maiesty, and burdened her with Wiats conspiracie: which she vtterlie denied, affirming that she was altogether guiltlesse therein. They being not contented with this, Lady Elizabeth charged with the busines of Sir Peter Carew. charged her Grace with businesse made by Sir Peter Ca­rew, and the rest of the Gentlemen of the West countrey: [Page 20] which she also vtterly denying, cleared her innocencie ther­in. In conclusion, after long debating of matters, they de­clared vnto her, that was the Quéenes will and pleasure Lady Elizabeth threatned to goe to the Tower, that she should go vnto the Tower, while the matter were furder tried and examined. Whereat she being agast, said. That she trusted the Quéens Maiesty would be more gra­tious Lady vnto her, and that her Highnesse would not o­therwise conceiue of her, but that she was a true woman: declaring furthermore to the Lords, that she was innocent Lady Elizabeth purgeth her selfe to the Lordes. in all those matters wherewith they had burdened her, and desired them therefore to be a furder meane to the Quéene her Sister, that she being a true woman in thought, worde and déede towardes her Maiestie, might not be committed to so notorious & dolefull a place, protesting that she would request no mercie at her hand, if she should be prooued to haue consented vnto any such kinde of matter, as they had laide vnto her charge. And therefore in fine, desired their Lordshippes to thinke of her what she was, and that she might not so extremelie be dealt withall for her trueth. Wherevnto the Lordes aunswered againe, that there was no remedie, for that the Quéenes Maiestie was fullie de­termined, that she should goe vnto the Tower: wherwith the Lordes departed with their cappes hanging ouer their eyes. But not long after, within the space of an howre or more, came fowre of the foresaide Lords of the Councell, which were y^e Lord Treasurer, the Bishop of Winchester, the Lord Steward, & the Earle of Sussex, with the Garde, who warding the next Chamber to her, secluded all her Gentlemen and Yeomen, Ladies and Gentlewomen: sa­uing Lady Elizabeths seruaunts remoo­ued from her. that for one Gentlemen Usher, thrée Gentlewomen, and two Groomes of her Chamber, were appointed thrée other men of the Quéenes, and thrée waiting Women, to The Queenes men and women attendaunt vppon the Lady Eliza­beth. giue attendance vpon her, that none should haue accesse to her Grace. At which time, there was an hundred of Nor­then Soldiours in white coates, watching and warding a­bout the Gardens all that night, a great fire being made in the middest of the Hall, and two certaine Lordes wat­ching [Page] there also, with their band and company.

Upon Saturday following, two Lords of the Counsaile, (the one was the Earle of Sussex, the other shalbe name­lesse) came and certified her Grace, that foorthwith she must goe vnto the Tower, the Barge being prepared for her, and the tide now ready, which tarieth for no body. In heauie moode her Grace requested the Lordes, that she might tarie one other tide, trusting that the next would be better and more comfortable: but one of the Lordes repli­ed, that neither tide nor time was to be delaied. And when her Grace requested him, that she might be suffered to write to the Quéenes Maiestie: he answered that he durst The hard dea­ling of a certaine Lord with the Lady Elizabeth. not permitte that, adding, that in his iudgement, it would rather hurt then profite her Grace in so dooing. But the other Lord more courteous and fauourable (who was the The Earle of Sussex gentle to the Lady Eliza­beth. Earle of Sussex) knéeling downe, tolde her Grace that she should haue libertie to write, and as he was a true man he would deliuer it to the Quéenes Highnesse, and bring an aunswere of the same, whatsoeuer came thereof. Where­vpon she wrote: albeit she could in no case be suffered to Lady Elizabeth writeth to the Queene, but it would not serue. speake with the Quéene, to her great discomfort, being no offender against the Quéenes Maiestie. And thus the time and tide passed away for that season, they priuilie appoin­ting al things ready, that she should go the next tide, which fell about midnight: but for feare she should be taken by the waie, they durst not. So they staied tyll the next day, being Palme Sunday, when about nine of the clocke these two returned againe, declaring that it was time for her Grace to depart: She aunswering, if there be no remedy, I must be content, willing the Lords to goe on before. Be­ing come foorth into the garden, she did cast vp her eies to­ward the windowe, thinking to haue séene the Quéene, which she could not. Whereat she saide: She meruailed much what the Nobilitie of the Realme meant, which in that sort would suffer her to be ledde into captiuitie, the Lord knewe whether, for she did not? In the meane time commaundement was giuen in all London, that euery one [Page 21] should kéepe the Church, and carie their Palmes, while (in the meane season) she might be conueied without all re­course of people into the Tower. After all this, she tooke her Barge with the foresaide Lordes, thrée of the Quéenes Lady Elizabeth sent to the Tower. Gentlewomen, and thrée of her owne, her Gentleman Usher, and two of her Groomes, lying and houering vpon the water a certaine space, for that they could not shoot the Bridge, the Barge men being verie vnwilling to shoot the same so soone as they did, because of the daunger thereof: for the sterne of the Barge strooke vpon the ground, the fall was so bigge, and the water was so shallowe, that the Barge being vnder the bridge, there staied againe a while. At landing, she first staied, & denied to land at those staires, where all traitours and offendors customablie vse to land, neither well could she, vnlesse she would goe ouer her shooes. The Lordes were gone out of the Barge before, and asked why she came not? One of the Lordes went back againe to her, and brought word she would not come. Then saide one of the Lordes, which shalbe namelesse, that she should not chuse, and because it rained, he offered to her his cloake, which she (putting it backe with her hand with a good dashe) refused. So she comming out, hauing one foot vpon the staire, saide: Héere landeth as true a Subiect (be­ing prisoner) as euer landed at these staires, and before thée The wordes of Lady Elizabeth entring the Tower. O God I speake it, hauing no other fréends but thée alone. To whome the same Lord aunswered againe, that if it were so, it was the better for her. At her landing, there was a great multitude of their seruaunts and Warders standing in their order. What néeded all this (saide she.) It is the vse (saide some) so to be, when any prisoner came thi­ther. And if it be for my cause (saide she) I beséech you that they may be dismissed. Whereat the poore men knéeled downe, and with one voice desired GOD to preserue her Grace: but the next day they were (therefore) released of their olde coates. After this, passing a little furder, she sate downe vpon a colde stone, and there rested her selfe. To whom the Lieuetenant then being, said: Madame, you [Page] were best to come out of the raine, for you sit vnholsomely. She then replying, aunswered againe: Better sitting héere then in a wurse place, for God knoweth, I know not whe­ther you will bring me. With that her gentleman Usher wept, she demaunding of him what he meant, to vse her so vncomfortablie, séeing she tooke him to be her comforter, and not to dismay her, especiallie for that she knewe her trueth to be such, that no man should haue cause to wéepe for her: but foorth she went into the prison. The doores were locked and bolted vpon her, which did not a little dis­comfort and dismay her Grace, at what time she called to her gentlewoman for her Booke. Desiring God not to suf­fer The christian prayer of Lady Elizabeth. her to build her foundation vpon the sandes, but vpon the rocke, whereby all blastes of blustring weather should haue no power against her. The doores being thus locked, and she close shut vp, the Lordes had great conference how to kéepe warde and watch, euerie man declaring his opini­on in that behalfe, agréeing straitlie and circumspectlie to kéepe her. Then one of them, which was the Lord of The Lord of Sus­sex speaketh for Lady Elizabeth. Sussex, swearing, saide: My Lordes let vs take héede, and doo no more then our Commission will beare vs, whatso­euer shall happen héereafter. And further, let vs consider that she was the King our Maisters Daughter, and there­fore let vs vse such dealing, that we may aunswere vnto it heereafter, if it shall so happen, for iust dealing (quoth he) is alwaies aunswerable. Wherevnto the other Lordes a­greede that it was well saide of him, and therevpon depar­ted. Being in the Tower, within two daies commaun­dement was, that she should haue Masse within her house: one Maister Young was then her Chaplaine, and because there was none of her men so well learned, to helpe the Priest to saye Masse, the Masse staied for that day. The next day two of her Yeomen, who had gone long to schoole before, and were learned, had two Abcies prouided and de­liuered them, so that vpon the Abcies they should helpe the Priest. One of the saide Yeomen, holding the Abcie in his hand, pretending ignoraunce at Kirieleyson, set the Priest, [Page 22] making as though he could aunswer no furder.

It would make a pittifull and a straunge storie, héere by the way to touch and recite, what examinations and rac­kinges of poore men there were, to finde out that knife that should cut her throat: what gaping among my Lords of the Clergie, to sée the day when they might wash their goodlie white Rochets in her innocent blood. But especiallie the Bishop of Winchester Stephen Gardiner, then Lord Chaū ­cellour, The Bishop of Winchester eni­mie to Lady Eli­zabeth. ruler of the roste, who then within fewe dayes af­ter came vnto her, with diuers other of the Councell, and examined her of the talke that was at Ashridge, betwixt her and Sir Iames Acroft, concerning her remoouing from thence to Dunnington Castell, requiring her to declare what she meant thereby? At the first, she being so sudden­lie asked, did not wel remember any such house: but with­in a while, well aduising her selfe, she said. In deede (quoth she) I doo now remember that I haue such a Place, but I neuer lay in it in all my life: and as for any that hath moo­ued me therevnto, I doo not remember. Then to enforce Lady Elizabeth examined by the Bishop of Win­chester. the matter, they brought foorth Sir Iames Acroft: the Bi­shop of Winchester demaunded of her, what she saide to that man? She aunswered, that she had little to say to him, or to y^e rest that were then prisoners in the Tower. But my Lords (quoth she) you doo examine euerie meane prisoner of me, wherein me thinkes you doo me great iniurie. If they haue doone euill, & offended the Quéenes Maiestie, let them aunswer to it accordingly: I beseech you my Lords, ioine not me in this sort with any of these offendours. And as concerning my going to Dunnington Castell, I doo re­member that Maister Hobby and mine Officers, and you Sir Iames Acroft had such talke: but what is that to she purpose (my Lords) but that I may go to mine owne hou­ses at all times? The Lord of Arundel knéeling downe, The freendlie speech of the Earle of Arundel to Lady Eliza­beth. saide: Your Grace sayth true, and certainlie we are verie sorie, that we haue so troubled you about so vaine matters. She then saide: My Lords, you doo sift me verie narowly, but well I am assured, you shall doo no more to me then [Page] God hath appointed, and so God forgiue you all. At their departure, Sir Iames Acroft knéeled downe, declaring that he was verie sorie to sée the daye, in which he should be brought as a witnesse against her Grace. But I assure your Grace (said he) I haue béene meruailouslie tossed and Sir Iames Acroft examined tou­ching the Lady Elizabeth. examined touching your Highnesse, which the Lord kno­weth is very straunge to me. For I take God to record be­fore all your Honours, I doo not knowe any thing of that crime that you haue laide to my charge, and will thervpon take my death, if I should be driuen to so straite a triall.

That day or there about, diuers of her owne Officers, These were not the Officers of the Tower, but such as went in white & greene. who had made prouision for her diet, brought the same to the vtter gate of the Tower, the common rasall soldiours receiuing it: which was no small gréefe to the gentlemen, the bringers therof, wherfore they required to speake with the Lord Chamberlaine, being then Constable of the To­wer. Who, comming before his presence, declared vnto his Lordship, that they were much afraid to bring her Graces diet, and deliuer it to such common & desperate persons, as they were which did receiue it: beséeching his Honour to consider her Grace, and to giue such order, that her viands might at all times be brought in by them, which were ap­pointed therevnto. Yea Sirs (saide he) who appointed you this office? They aunswered, her Graces Councel. Coun­cel (quoth he?) There is none of them whith hath to doo, Lady Elizabeths seruaunts restrai­ned from brin­ging her diet to the Tower. either in that case, or any els within this place: and I as­sure you, for that she is a prisoner, she shalbe serued with the Lieuetenaunts men, as other prisoners are. Whereat the gentlemen saide, that they trusted for more fauour at his hands, considering her personage, saying: that they mi­strusted Displeasure be­tweene the Lord Chamberlaine. and the Lady Elizabeths men. not, but that the Queene & her Councell would be better to her Grace then so, and therewith shewed them­selues to be offended, at the vngratefull words of the Lord Chamberlaine, towards their Lady and Mistresse. At this he swore by God, striking himselfe vpon the breast, that if they did either frowne or shrug at him, he would set them where they should sée neither Sunne nor Moone. Thus ta­king [Page 23] their leaue, they desired God to bring him into a bet­ter minde towards her Grace, and departed from him. Up­on occasion whereof, her Graces Officers made great sute vnto the Queenes Councell, that some might be appointed to bring her diet vnto her, and that it might no more be de­liuered vnto the common soldiours of the Tower. Which being reasonablie considered, was by them graunted, and therevppon were appointed one of her Gentlemen her Clerke of her Kitchin, and her two Purueiours to bring in her prouision once a day: all which was doone, the war­ders euer waiting vpon the bringers thereof. The Lord Chamberlaine himselfe being alwaies with them, circum­spectlie and narrowlie watched and searched what they brought, & gaue héede that they should haue no talke with any of her Graces waiting seruaunts, and so warded them both in and out. At the saide sute of her Officers, were sent by the commaundement of the Councell, to waite vp­pon her Grace, two Yeomen of her Chamber, one of her Lady Elizabeths wayting men in the Tower. Robes, two of her Pantrie and Ewrie, one of her Buttry, an other of her Seller, two of her Kitchin, and one of her Larder, all which continued with her the time of her trouble.

Heere the Constable, being at the first not verie well pleased, with the comming in of such a company against his will, would haue had his men to haue serued still with her Graces men: which her seruaunts at no hand would suffer, desiring his Lordship to be contented, for that order was taken, that no stranger should come within their Of­fices. At which aunswer being sore displeased, he brake out into these threatning words: Well (saide he) I wil handle ye well enough. Then went he into the Kitchin, and there would néedes haue his meat rosted with her Graces meat, Variaunce be­tweene the Lord Chamberlaine & Lady Elizabeths seruaunts. and saide that his Cooke should come thither and dresse it. To that her Graces Cooke aunswered: My Lord, I will neuer suffer any straunger to come about her diet, but her owne sworne men so long as I liue. He saide, they should: But the Cooke saide, his Lordshippe should pardon him for [Page] that matter. Thus did he trouble her poore seruaunts very stoutlie: though afterwardes he were otherwise aduised, & they more courteouslie vsed at his hands. And good cause why, for he had good chéere, & fared of the best, & her Grace paid wel for it: wherfore he vsed himselfe afterward more reuerentlie toward her Grace. After this sort, hauing béen a whole moneth there in close prison, and being verie euill at ease therewithall: she sent for the Lord Chamberlaine and the Lord Shandoyes, to come & speake with her. Who comming, she requested of them, that she might haue liber­tie to walke in some place, for that she felt her selfe not well. To the which they aunswered, that they were right sory that they could not satisfie her Graces request, for that Lady Elizabeth denied the lyber­tie of the Tower. they had commaundement to the contrarie, which they durst not in any wise breake. Furthermore, she desired of them, if that could not be graunted, that she might walke but into the Quéenes lodging. No nor yet that (they aun­swered) could by any meanes be obtained, without a furder sute to the Quéene and her Councell. Well (saide she) my Lordes, if the matter be so hard, that they must be sued vn­to for so small a thing, and that fréendshippe be so straite: God comfort me, and so they departed, she remaining in her olde dungeon still, without any kinde of comfort, but onelie God.

The next day after, the Lord Shandoyes came againe vnto her Grace, declaring vnto her that he had sued vnto the Councell for furder libertie. Some of them consented thervnto, diuers other dissented, for that there were so ma­ny prisoners in the Tower. But in conclusion, they did all agrée, that her Grace might walke into those lodginges, so that he & the Lord Chamberlaine, and thrée of the Quéenes gentlewomen did accompany her, the windowes being shutte, and she not suffred to looke out at any of them: wherewith she contented her selfe, and gaue him thankes for his good will in that behalfe. Afterwardes there was Lybertie graun­ted to Lady Eli­zabeth to walke in a garden. libertie graunted to her Grace to walke in a little garden, the doores and gates being shutte vp: which notwithstan­ding [Page 24] was as much discomfort vnto her, as the walke in the garden was pleasant and acceptable. At which times of her walking there, the prisoners on that side were straightlie commaunded, not to speake or looke out at the windowes into the garden, till her Grace were gone out againe, ha­uing (in consideration therof) their kéepers waiting vppon them for that time. Thus her Grace with this small liber­tie contented her selfe in God, to whome be praise there­fore.

During this time, there vsed a little boie, a mans childe in the Tower, to resort to their chambers, and many times to bring her Grace flowers, which likewise he did to the other prisoners that were there. Wherevpon naughtie and suspicious heads, thinking to make & wring out some Suspicious heads. matter thereof, called on a time the childe vnto them, pro­mising him Figges and Apples, and asking of him when he had béene with the Earle of Deuonshiere, not ignorant of the childes wunted frequenting vnto him. The boye aunswered, that he would goe by and by thether. Further, A young childe examined for bringing flowers to Lady Eliza­beth. they demaunded of him, when he was with the Lady Eli­zabethes Grace. He aunswered: euerie day. Furthermore they demaunded of him, What the Lord of Deuonshiere sent by him to her Grace. The childe said, I will goe know what he will giue me to carrie to her. Such was the dis­cretion of the child, being yet but foure yéeres of age. This same is a craftie boie (quoth the Lord Chamberlaine) How say you my Lord Shandoyes? I praie you my Lord (quoth the boie) giue me the Figges you promised me. No marie (quoth he) thou shalt be wipped, if thou come any more to the Lady Elizabeth, or to the Lord Courtney. The boie aunswered: I will bring my Lady my Mistresse more flowers. Whervpon the childes father was commaunded, to permitte the boie no more to come vp into their cham­bers. The next day as her Grace was walking in the gar­den, the childe péeping in at a little hole in the doore, cried vnto her, saying: Mistresse, I can bring you no more flo­wers. Whereat she smiled, but saide nothing, vnderstan­ding [Page] thereby what they had doone. Wherefore, afterwards the L. Chamberlaine rebuked highlie his Father, cōmaun­ding him to put him out of the house. Alas poore Infaunt, (quoth the Father.) It is a craftie knaue (quoth the Lord Chamberlaine:) but let me sée him héere no more.

The fift day of Maie, the Constable was discharged of The Constable of the Tower discharged of his Office, and Sir Henrie Benifield with his cōpany placed about the Lady Elizabeth. his Office of the Tower, and one Sir Henrie Benifield placed in his roome, a man vnknowne to her Grace, and therefore the more feared: which so sudden mutation was vnto her no little amaze. He brought with him an hundred Soldiours in blew coates, wherewith she was meruai­louslie discomforted, and demaunded of such as were about her, whether the Ladie Ianes Scaffold were taken away or Lady Elizabeth both in great feare and doubt of her lyfe. no, fearing by reason of their comming, least she should haue plaied her part. To whome aunswere was made, that the Scaffold was taken away, and that her Grace née­ded not to doubt of any such tirannie: for God would not suffer any such treason against her person. Wherewith be­ing contented, but not altogether satisfied, she asked what Sir Henrie Benifield was? And whether he were of the Lady Elizabeth in doubt of Sir Henry Benifield. conscience or no, that if her murdering were secretlie com­mitted to his charge, he would sée the execution thereof. She was aunswered, that they were ignorant what man­ner of man he was: howbeit they perswaded her, that God would not suffer such wickednesse to procéede. Well (quoth she) God graunt it be so: for thou O God canst mollifie all Lady Elizabeths prayer. such tirannous hearts, and disappoint all such cruell purpo­ses. And I beséech thée to heare me thy creature, which am thy seruaunt and at thy commaundement, trusting by thy grace euer so to remaine. About which time it was spread abroade, that her Grace should be carried from thence, by this new iollie Captaine and his Soldiours, but whether, it could not be learned: which was vnto her a great gréefe, especiallie for that such a companie was ap­pointed to her garde, requesting rather to continue there still, then to be led thence with such a sort of rascalles. At last plaine aunswere was made by the Lord Shandoyes, [Page 25] that there was no remedie, but from thence she must néeds depart to the Manour of Woodstocke, as he thought. Be­ing demaunded of her, for what cause: for that (quoth he) the Tower is like further to be furnished. She being de­strous to know what he meant thereby, demaunded, wher­with: with such matter as the Quéene and the Councell were determined in that behalfe, wherof he had no know­ledge, and so departed. In conclusion, on Trinitie Sun­day, being the ninetéene day of Maie, she was remooued from the Tower, the Lord Treasurer being then there for the lading of her Cartes, and discharging the place of the same: where Sir Henrie Benifield (being appointed her Gaoler) did receiue her with a company of rakehelles to garde her, beside the Lord of Darbyes band, wafting in the Countrie about for the Moone-shine in the water. Unto Lady Elizabeth remooueth from the Tower to Woodstocke. whome at length came my Lord of Tame, ioyned in Com­mission with the saide Sir Henrie, for the safe guiding of her to prison: and they together conueied her Grace to Woodstocke, as héereafter followeth.

The first day they conducted her to Richmond, where she Lady Elizabeth secluded from her seruaunts. continued all night, being restrained of her owne men, which were lodged in out Chambers, and Sir Henrie Be­nifieldes Soldiours appointed in their roomes, to giue at­tendaunce on her personne. Whereat she being meruai­louslie dismaied, thinking verilie some secrete mischéefe to Lady Elizabeth in dispayre of her selfe. be working towardes her: called her Gentleman Usher, and desired him with the rest of his company, to pray for her, for this night (quoth she) I thinke to die. Wherewith he being stricken to the heart, saide: God forbid that any such wickednesse should be pretended against your Grace. So comforting her as well as he could, at last he burst into teares, & went from her downe into the Court, wher were walking the Lord of Tame and Sir Henry Benefield. Then he cōming to the Lord of Tame (who had proffered to him much fréendshippe) desired to speake with him a word or two: vnto whom he familiarlie said, he should with all his heart. Which when Sir Henrie (standing by) heard, he as­ked [Page] what the matter was? To whome the Gentleman Usher aunswered: No great matter Sir (saide he) but to speake with my Lord a woord or two. Then when the Lord of Tame came to him, he spake on this wise. My Lord (quoth he) you haue béene alwaies my good Lord, and so I Lady Elizabeths Vsher talketh with the Lord of Tame. beséech you to remaine. The cause why I come to you at this time, is to desire your Honour, fréendlie to declare to me, whether any daunger is meant to my Mistresse this night, or no, that I and my poore fellowes may take such part as shall please God to appoint: for certainlie we will rather die, then she should secretlie and innocentlie misca­rie. Marie (saide the Lord of Tame) God forbidde that any The gentle heart of the Lord of Tame to Lady Elizabeth. such wicked purpose should be wrought: and rather then it should be so, I with my men are ready to die at her foote also. And so (praised be God) they passed that dolefull night with no little heauinesse of heart.

Afterward, passing ouer the water at Richmond, going to­wards VVindsor, her Grace espied certaine of her poore ser­uants stāding on the other side, which were verie desirous to sée her. Whome when she behelde, turning to one of her men standing by, she saide: Yonder I sée certaine of my men, goe to them, and say these wordes from me: Tanquam ouis. So she passing forward to VVindsore, was lodged Tanquam ouis. Like a sheepe to to the slaughter. there that night in the Deane of VVindsores house: a place in déede more méet for a Priest then a Princesse. And from thence her Grace was garded and brought the next night to Maister Dormers house, where much people standing Lady Elizabeth honourablie re­ceiued, and belo­ued of the people by the waie, some presented to her one gift, and some an o­ther, so that Sir Henrie was greatlie mooued therewith, and troubled the poore people verie sore, for shewing their louing hearts in such a manner, calling them Rebels and Traitours, with such like vile wordes. Beside, as he passed through the Uillages, the Townsemen rang the Belles, as being ioyfull of her comming, thinking verilie it had béene otherwise then it was in déede, as the sequell prooued after to the said poore men. For immediatlie the said Sir Henrie hearing the same, sent his Soldiours thether, who appre­hended [Page 26] some of the Ringers, setting them in the stockes, and otherwise vncourteouslie misusing othersome for their good willes. On the next morrowe her Grace passing from The gentle en­tertainement of Lady Elizabeth, at the Lord of Tames house. Maister Dormers (where for the time of her abode there, was a straite watche kept) came to the Lord of Tames house, where she laie all that night, being verie Princelie entertained, both of Knightes and Ladies, gentlemen and gentlewomen. Whereat Sir Henrie Benifield grunted, and was highlie offended, saying vnto them: That they Sir Henrie Beni­field grudged at the gentle enter­tainement of Lady Elizabeth. The rude and vngentle behaui­our of Sir Henrie Benifield. could not tel what they did, and were not able to aunswer their dooinges in that behalfe. Letting them to vnderstand, that she was the Quéenes Maiesties prisoner, and no o­therwise: aduising them therefore to take héede, and be­ware of afterclappes. Wherevnto the Lord of Tame aun­swered on this wise: That he was well aduised of his doo­inges, being ioyned in Commission as well as he, adding with warrant, that her Grace might & should in his house be merie. The next day, as she should take her iorney from Kichmond toward VVoodstocke, the Lord of Tame with an other Gentleman being at the Tables, playing and drop­ping vye Crownes, the Lady Elizabeth passing by, staied and saide, she would sée the game plaide out, which Sir Henrie Benifield would scarce permit. The game running long about, and they playing drop vye Crownes: Come on (sayth he.) I will tarie (sayth she) and will sée this game out. After this Sir Henrie went vp into a Chamber, where was appointed for her Grace a Chayre, two Cushi­ons, and a foote Carpet, very faire and Princelike: where­in presumptuouslie he sate, and called one Barwicke his man to pull off his Bootes. Which as soone as it was knowne among the Ladies and Gentles, euerie one mu­sed thereat, and laughed him to scorne, obseruing his vn­discrete manners in that behalfe, as they might verie wel. When Supper was doon, he called my Lord, & willed him that all the Ladies and gentlemen should withdraw them selues euerie one to his lodging: meruailing much that he would permit there such a company, considering so great a [Page] charge committed to him. Sir Henry (quoth my Lord) con­tent your selfe, all shall be voided, your men and all. Nay, my Soldiours (quoth Sir Henrie) shall watch all night. The Lord of Tame aunswered: it shall not néede. Well (saide he) néede or néede not, they shall so doo: mistrusting belike the company, which God knoweth was without cause.

The next daie her Grace tooke her iourney from thence Lady Elizabeth, commeth to Woodstocke. to Woodstocke, where she was inclosed, as before in the Tower of London: the Soldiours garding and warding both within and without the walles, euery day to the num­ber of thrée score, and in the night without the walles for­tie, during the time of her imprisonment there. At length, The strait watch kept at Wood­stocke. she had gardens appointed for her to walke in, which was verie comfortable to her Grace: but alwaies when she did recreate her selfe therein, the doores were fast locked vp, and in as straite manner as they were in the Tower, be­ing at least fiue or six lockes betwéene her lodging and her walkes, Sir Henrie himself kéeping the keies, and trusting no man therewith. Wherevpon she called him her Gaoler: and he knéeling downe, desired her Grace not to call him so, for he was appointed there to be one of her Officers. From such Officers (quoth she) good Lord deliuer me.

And now by the way as digressing, or rather refreshing the Reader, if it be lawfull in so serious a storie to recite a A merie storie concerning the straite keeping of the Lady Elizabeth. matter incident, and yet not impertinent to the same, oc­casion héere mooueth, or rather enforceth me, to touch bréef­lie what happened in the same place and time by a merie conceited man, being then about her Grace. Who noting the straite and straunge kéeping of his Lady & Mistresse by the said Sir Henrie Benifield, with so many locks & doores, with such watch and warde about her, as was strange and wunderful: espied a Goate in the warde where her Grace was, and whether to refreshe her oppressed minde, or to notifie her straite handling by Sir Henrie, either els both, he tooke it vppon his necke, and followed her Grace there­with, as she was going into her lodging. Which when she [Page 27] sawe, she asked him what he would doo with it, willing to let it alone. Unto whome the same partie aunswered: No by saint Marie (if it like your Grace) will I not, for I can­not tell whether he be one of the Quéenes fréendes or no, I will carrie him to Sir Henrie Benifield (God willing) to knowe what he is. So leauing her Grace, he went with the Goate on his necke, and carried it to Sir Henrie Beni­field: who when he sawe him comming with it, asked him halfe angerlie what he had there? Unto whome the partie The straitnesse of Sir Henrie Beni­field merily no­ted. aunswered, saying: Sir (quoth he) I cannot tell what he is, I praie you examine him, for I found him in the place where my Ladies Grace was walking, & what talke they haue had I cannot tell, for I vnderstand him not, but he should séeme to me to be some straunger, and I thinke ve­rilie a Welch man, for he hath a white fréese coate on his backe. And for so much as I being the Quéenes subiect, and perceiuing the straite charge committed to you of her kée­ping, that no straunger should haue accesse vnto her with­out sufficient licence: I haue héere found a stranger (what he is I cannot tell) in place where her Grace was wal­king, and therfore for the necessarie discharge of my duety, I thought it good to bring the saide straunger to you, to exa­mine as you sée cause: and so he let him downe. At which wordes Sir Henrie séemed much displeased, and saide: Well, well, you will neuer leaue this géere I sée, and so they departed.

Now to returne to the matter from whence we haue di­gressed, Lady Elizabeth, with much adoo, suffered to write to the Queene. after her Grace had béene there a time, she made sute to the Councell, that she might be suffered to write to the Quéene: which at last was permitted. So that Sir Henrie brought her pen, inke and paper, and standing by her while she wrote (which he straitlie obserued) alwayes she being wearie, he would carrie away her Letters, and bring them againe when she called for them. In the fini­shing therof, he would haue béen messenger to the Quéene of the same, whose request her Grace denied, saying: One of her owne men should carrie them, and that she would [Page] neither trust him, nor none of his therein. Then he aun­swering againe, saide: None of them durst be so bolde (he trowed) to carie her Letters, being in that case. Yes (quoth she) I am assured I haue none so dishonest, that would de­nie my request in that behalfe, but will be as willing to serue me now, as before. Well (saide he) my Commission The cruell dea­ling of Sir Hen­rie Benifield to the Lady Eliza­beth, reproued. is to the contrarie, and I may not so suffer it. Her Grace replying againe, saide: You charge me verie often with your Commission, I praye God you may iustlie aunswere the cruell dealing you vse towardes me. Then he knéeling downe, desired her Grace to thinke and consider, how he was a seruaunt, and put in trust by the Quéene to serue her Maiestie: protesting that if the case were hers, he would as willinglie serue her Grace, as nowe he did the Quéenes highnesse. For the which his aunswer, her Grace thanked him, desiring of God, that she might neuer haue néede of such seruauntes as he was: declaring further to him, that his dooinges towards her were not good nor aun­swerable, but more then all the fréends he had would stand by. To whome Sir Henrie replied and saide: That there was no remedie but his dooinges must be aunswered, and so they should, trusting to make good account thereof. The cause which mooued her Grace so to saye, was, for that he would not permitte her Letters to be carried foure or fiue daies after the writing therof. But in fine, he was content The Letters of Lady Elizabeth carried to the Queene. to send for her gentleman from the Towne of Woodstocke, demaunding of him, whether he durst enterprise the carri­age of her Graces Letters to the Quéene, or no: and he aunswered, yea Sir that I dare, and wil with all my hart. Wherevpon Sir Henrie (halfe against his stomacke) tooke them vnto him. Then about the eight day of Iune, came downe Doctour Owen and Doctour Wendie, sent by the Doctor Owen & Doctor Wendie, Queene Maries Phisitions sent to Lady Elizabeth. Quéene to her Grace, for that she was sicklie: who mini­string to her, and letting her blood, tarried there and atten­ded on her Grace fiue or sixe dayes. Then she being well amended, they returned againe to the Court, making their good report to the Quéene and the Councell, of her Graces [Page 28] behauiour and humblenesse towardes the Quéenes High­nesse. Which her Maiestie hearing, tooke verie thankeful­lie: but the Bishoppes therat repined, looked blacke in the The popish Pre­lates repined a­gainst the Lady Elizabeth. mouth, and tolde the Quéene, they meruailed that she sub­mitted not her selfe to her Maiesties mercie, considering that she had offended her Highnesse. About this time, her Grace was requested by a secrete fréend, to submit her self Lady Elizabeth requested to submit her selfe to the Queene. to the Quéenes Maiestie, which would be very well taken, and to her Grace great quiet and commodity: vnto whom she aunswered: That she would neuer submitte her selfe to them whome she neuer offended. For (quoth she) if I haue offended and am guiltie, I then craue no mercie but the lawe: which I am certaine (quoth she) I should haue had ere this, if it could be prooued by me. For I knowe my selfe (I thanke God) to be out of the daunger thereof, wi­shing that I were as cléere out of the perill of mine eni­mies: and then I am assured, I should not be so locked and bolted vp within walles & doores, as I am, God giue them a better minde when it pleaseth him.

About this time, was there a great consulting among Councell of the Papists, to marie the Lady Eliza­beth to a Spani­ard. the Bishoppes and gentlemen, touching a mariage for her Grace, which some of the Spaniardes wished to be with some Stranger, that she might go out of the Realme with her portion: some saying one thing, and some an other. A Lord (who shall be heere namelesse) being there, at last Wicked councell giuen against Lady Elizabeth. saide: That the King should neuer haue any quiet Com­mon wealth in England, vnlesse her head were stricken from her shoulders. Wherevnto the Spaniardes aunswe­red, saying: God forbid that the King their Maister should haue that minde, to consent to such a mischéefe. This was the courteous aunswere of the Spaniards to the Englishe Spaniardes more fauourable to Lady Elizabeth, then some Eng­lish men. men, speaking after that sort against their owne Country. From that day the Spaniardes neuer left off their good per­swasions to the King, that the like honour he should neuer obtaine, as he should in deliuering Lady Elizabethes Grace out of prison: whereby at length she was happilie released from the same. Héere is a plaine and euident ex­ample, [Page] of the good clemencie and nature of the King and his Councellers towardes her Grace, praised be God there­fore, who mooued their heartes therein. Then héerevp­on, she was sent for shortlie after, to come to Hampton Court.

But before her remoouing from VVoodstocke, we will a little stay, to declare in what dangers her life was, during this time she there remained. First thorowe fire, which be­gan to kindle betwéene the boordes and seeling, vnder the Lady Elizabeth, in daunger of fyre. Chamber where she laie: whether by a sparke of fire got­ten into a creuis, or whether of purpose by some that meant her no good, the Lord dooth knowe. Neuerthelesse, a woorshipfull Knight of Oxfordshiere, which was there ioyned the same time with Sir Henrie Benifield, in kée­ping that Lady (who then tooke vp the boordes and quen­ched the fire) verilie supposed it to be doon of purpose. Fur­thermore it is thought, and also affirmed (if it be true) of one Paule Peny a kéeper of VVoodstocke, a notorious Lady Elizabeth, in daunger of kylling. Ruffian, and a butcherlie wretch, that was appointed to kill the Lady Elizabeth: who both sawe the man, being often in her sight, and also knewe thereof. An other time one of the priuie Chamber, a great man about the Quéene, An other conspi­racie of murder against Lady Elizabeth. and chéefe darling of Stephen Gardiner, named Maister Iames Basset, came to Blandenbridge a mile from UUood­stocke, with twentie or thirtie priuie coates, and sent for Sir Henrie Benifield to come and speake with him. But as God would, who disposed all thinges after the purpose of his owne will, so it happened, that a little before, the saide Sir Henrie Benifield was sent for by a Poste to the Councell, leauing straite worde behinde him with his bro­ther, that no man whatsoeuer he were, though comming with a Bill of the Quéenes hand, or any other warrant, should haue accesse to her before his returne againe. By reason whereof so it fell out, that Sir Henrie Benifieldes brother comming to him at the Bridge, would suffer him in no case to approch in: who otherwise (as it is supposed) was appointed violentlie to murder the innocent Lady.

[Page 29] At what time likewise that the Lady Elizabeth was in Lady Elizabeth preserued by the Lordes proui­dence, from exe­cution in the Tower. the Tower, a Writ came downe subscribed with certaine handes of the Councell, for her execution: which if it were certaine as it is reported, Winchester (do doubt) was deui­ser of that mischeuous drift. And doubtlesse the same Achi­tophell had brought his impious purpose that day to passe, had not the fatherlie prouidence of Almightie God (who is alwaies stronger then the deuill) styrred vp Maister Brid­ges, Lieuetenaunt the same time of the Tower, to come in haste to the Quéene, to giue certificate therof, and to know further her consent for her Sisters death. Wherevppon it followed, that all that deuise was disappointed, and VVin­chesters Winchesters platforme ouer­throwne. deuillishe platforme (which he saide he had cast through the Lordes goodnesse) came to no effect. Where moreouer is to be noted, that during the imprisonment of this Lady and Princesse, one Maister Edmund Tremaine was on the Racke, and Maister Smithwike, and diuers o­ther in the Tower were examined, and diuers offers made them, to accuse the guiltlesse Lady, being in her captiuitie. Howbeit all that notwitstanding, no matter could be proo­ued by all examinations, as she the same time lying at Woodstocke, had certaine intelligence, by the meanes of one Iohn Gayer: who vnder a coullorable pretence of a Letter to Mistresse Cleue from her Father, was let in, and so gaue them secretlie to vnderstande of all this matter. Wherevppon the Lady Elizabeth, at her departing out from VVoodstocke, wrote these Uerses with her Diamond in a glasse windowe.

And thus much touching the troubles of Lady Eliza­beth at VVoodstocke. Wherevnto this is more to be ad­ded, that during the same time, the Lord of Tame had la­boured to the Quéene, and became suretie for her, to haue [Page] her from vvoodstocke to his house, and had obtained his graunt thereof: wherevpon preparation was made accor­dinglie, and all thinges ready in expectation of her com­ming. Lady Elizabeth not suffered to come to the Lord of Tames house. But thorowe the procurement either of Sir Henry Benifield, or by the dooing of vvinchester her mortall eni­mie, Letters came ouer night to the contrarie, whereby her iourney was staide. Thus this woorthy Lady oppres­sed with continual sorrowe, could not be permitted to haue recourse to any fréendes she had: but still in the handes of her enimies was left desolate, and vtterlie destitute of all that might refreshe a dolefull heart, fraught full of terror and thraldome. Wherevpon no meruaile, if she hearing vpon a time out of her garden at vvoodstocke, a certaine Lady Elizabeth wisheth her selfe to be a Milke maide. Milke maide singing pleasauntly, wished her selfe to be a Milke maide as she was, saying: That her case was bet­ter, and life more merier, then hers was, in that state as she was.

Now after these thinges thus declared, to procéede fur­ther where we left before, Sir Henrie Benifield and his Soldiors, with the Lord of Tame, and Sir Ralphe Cham­berlaine garding and wayting vppon her: The first night from vvoodstocke, she came to Ricotte. In which iourney such a mightie winde did blowe, that her seruauntes were faine to holde downe her cloathes about her: in so much, that her Hood was twise or thrise blowne from her head. Whervpon she desirous to returne to a gentlemans house there néere, could not be suffered by Sir Henrie Benifield so to doo: but was constrained vnder a hedge, to trim her head as well as she could. After this, they iourneied the next night to Maister Dormers, and so to Colbrooke, where she laye all that night at the George. And by the way com­ming to Colbrooke, certaine of her Graces Gentlemen and Yeomen mette her, to the number of thrée score, much to all their comfortes, who had not séene her Grace of long season before: notwithstanding, they were commaunded in the Quéenes name immediatlie to depart the Towne, to both their and her Graces no little heauines, who could not [Page 30] be suffered once to speake with them. So that night all her men were taken from her, sauing her gentleman Usher, three gentlewomen, two Groomes, and one of her War­droppe, the Soldiours watching and warding round about the house, and she close shut vp within her prison. The next day following, her Grace entred Hampton Court on the backe side, into the Princes lodging, the doores being shut to her, and she garded with Soldiours as before, lay there a fortnight at the least, or euer any had recourse vnto her. At length came the Lord William Haward, who meruai­lous honourablie vsed her Grace: whereat she tooke much The Lord Wil­liam Haward gentle and fa­uourable to La­dy Elizabeth. comfort, and requested him to be a meane, that she might speake with some of the Councell. To whome (not long after) came the Bishop of vvinchester, the Lord of Arun­dell, the Lord of Shrewesburie, and Secretarie Peter, who with great humilitie humbled themselues to her Grace. She againe likewise saluting them, said. My Lords (quoth she) I am glad to sée you: for me thinkes I haue béen kept a great while from you desolately alone. Wherefore I would desire you, to be a meane to the King and Quéenes Maiesties, that I may be deliuered from prison, wherein I haue béene kept a long space, as to you my Lordes it is not vnknowne. When she had spoken, Stephen Gardi­ner the Bishoppe of vvinchester knéeled downe, and reque­sted Lady Elizabeth requested by Winchester, to submit her selfe to the Queenes mercie. that she would submit herselfe to the Quéens Grace, and in so dooing, he had no doubt but her Maiestie would be good vnto her. She making aunswer: That rather then she would so doo, she would lie in prison all the dayes of her life, adding: That she craued no mercie at her Maiesties Lady Elizabeth standeth to be tryed by the lawe. hand, but rather desired the lawe, if euer she had offended her Maiestie, in woord, thought, or déede. And besides this, in yéelding (quoth she) I should speake against my selfe, and confesse my selfe to be an offendour, which neuer was towards her Maiestie: by occasion whereof, the King and Quéene might euer héereafter conceiue of me an euill opi­nion. And therefore I say my Lords, it were better for me to lie in prison for the trueth, then to be abroad and suspec­ted [Page] of my Prince. And so they departed, promising to de­clare her message to the Quéene.

On the next day, the Bishop of VVinchester came againe vnto her Grace, and knéeling downe, declared that the Talke againe betweene Win­chester and Lady Elizabeth. Quéene meruailed, that she would so stoutlie vse her selfe, not confessing to haue offended: so that it should séeme, the Quéenes Maiestie wrongfullie to haue imprisoned her Grace. Nay (quoth the Lady Elizabeth) it pleaseth her to punish me as she thinketh good. Well (quoth Gardiner) her Maiesty willeth me to tell you, that you must tell an other tale, ere that you be set at libertie. Her Grace aunswered, Lady Elizabeth denieth to con­fesse any fault doone to the Queene. that she had as liefe be in prison with honestie and trueth, as to be abroade suspected of her Maiestie: and this that I haue saide, I will (saide she) stand vnto, for I will neuer belye my selfe. VVinchester againe knéeled downe, and said: Then your Grace hath the vauntage of me and other of the Lordes, for your so long and wrong imprisonment. What vauntage I haue (quoth she) you know, taking God to record, I séeke no aduauntage at your hands, for your so dealing with me: but God forgiue you and me also. With that the rest knéeled downe, desiring her Grace that all might be forgotten, and so departed, she being fast locked vp againe. A seuen-night after, the Quéene sent for her Lady Elizabeth sent for to the Queene. Grace at ten a clocke in the night, to speake with her: for she had not séene her in two yéeres before. Yet for all that she was amazed at the so sudden sending for, thinking it had béene wurse for her then afterwardes it prooued: and desired her gentlemen and gentlewomen to praye for her, for that she could not tell whether euer she should sée them againe or no. At which time Sir Henrie Benifield, with Mistresse Clarencius comming, her Grace was brought into the garden, vnto a stayres foote that went into the Quéenes lodging, her Graces gentlewomen waiting on her, her gentleman Usher and her Groomes going before with Torches: where her gentlemen and gentlewomen being commaunded to staie, all sauing one Woman, Mi­stresse Clarencius conducted her to the Quéenes bed Cham­ber, [Page 31] where her Maiestie was. At the sight of whome her Grace knéeled downe, & desired God to preserue her Ma­iestie, not mistrusting but that she should trie her selfe as Lady Elizabeth, brought to the Queenes bed Chamber. true a subiect towardes her Maiestie, as euer did any, and desired her Maiestie euen so to iudge of her, and saide: that she should not finde her to the contrarie, whatsoeuer report otherwise had gone of her. To whome the Quéene aun­swered: Talke betweene the Queene and Lady Elizabeth. You will not confesse your offence, but stande stoutlie to your trueth: I praie God it may so fall out. If it dooth not (quoth the Lady Elizabeth) I request neither fauour nor pardon at your Maiesties handes. Well (saide the Quéene) you still stiflie perseuer in your trueth: belike you will not confesse but that you haue béene wrongfullie punished. I must not saye so (it it please your Maiestie, quoth she) to you. Why then (saide the Quéene) belike you will to other. No, if it please your Maiestie (quoth she) I haue borne the burden, and must beare it. I humbly Small comfort at the Queens hand toward her Sister beséech your Maiestie to haue a good opinion of me, and to thinke me to be your true Subiect, not onelie from the be­ginning hitherto, but for euer, as long as lyfe lasteth. And so they departed with verie fewe comfortable wordes of the Quéene in Englishe: but what she saide in Spanishe, God knoweth. It is thought that King Phillip was there King Phillip thought to be a freend to Lady Elizabeth. behinde a cloath, and not séene, and that he shewed himselfe a verie fréend in that matter, &c. Thus her Grace depar­ting, went to her lodging againe, and the seuenight after was deliuered of Sir Henrie Benifield her Goaler (as she Lady Elizabeth, by Gods proui­dence set at ly­bertie. tearmed him) and his Soldiours, and so her Grace being set at libertie from imprisonment, went into the Coun­try, and had appointed to goe with her Sir Thomas Pope, Sir Henrie Beni­field discharged. one of Quéene Maries Counsaylors, and one of her gentle­men Ushers, Maister Gage. And thus straitlie was she loo­ked too all Quéene Maries time: and this is the discourse of her Highnesse imprisonment.

Then there came to Lamheyre Maister Ierningham, and Maister Norris gentleman Usher, Quéene Maries men, who tooke away from her Grace Mistresse Ashley to [Page] the Fleete, and three other of her gentlewomen to the Mistresse Ashley sent to the Fleet. Tower: which was no little trouble to her Grace, say­ing, that she thought they would fetch away all at the end. Three gentle­women of Lady Elizabeths sent to the Tower. But God he praised, shortlie after was fetched away Gar­diner, by occasion of whose oportune decease, the life of this excellent Princesse, the wealth of all England, was preser­ued. Note the won­derfull working of the Lordes prouidence, in sauing of Lady Elizabeth. For this is credible to be supposed, that the saide wicked Gardiner of VVinchester, had long laboured his wits, and to this onelie most principall marke bent all his deuises: to bring this our happie and deere Soueraigne out of the waie, as both by his wordes and dailie dooinges Lady Elizabeth, delyuered by the death of Stephen Gardiner. sufficientlie appeared. But such was the gratious and fa­uourable prouidence of the Lord, to the preseruation not onelie of her Royall Maiestie, but also the miserable and wofull state of this whole Iland, and poore Subiects of the same, whereby the proude platformes, and peeuishe practi­ses of this wretched Achitophell preuailed not: but con­trarywise both he, and all the snares and trappes of his pernitious councell laide against an other, were turned to a nette to catch himselfe, according to the Prouerbe: Ma­lum consilium consultori pessimum. After the death of this How the Lord heere beganne to worke for Lady Elizabeth. Gardiner, followed the death also and dropping awaie of other her enimies, wherby by little and little her ieopardie decreased, feare deminished, hope of comfort beganne to ap­peare as out of a darke clowde. And albeit her Grace (as yet) had no full assuraunce of perfect safetie, yet more gentle entertainement did dailie growe vnto her, tyll at length to the moneth of Nouember, & seuentéene day of the same, thrée yéeres after the death of Stephen Gardiner, followed the death of Quéene Marie. After whose deceasse, succeeded her foresaide Sister Lady Elizabeth into her Lady Elizabeth proclaymed Queene, the same day that Queene Marie died. right of the Crowne of England, who after so long re­straintment, so great daungers escaped, such blustering storms ouerblowne, so many iniuries digested and wrongs susteined, by the mightie protection of our mercifull God, to our no small comfort and commoditie, hath beene exal­ted and erected out of thrall to libertie, out of daunger to [Page 22] peace and quietnesse, from dread to dignitie, from miserie to Maiestie, from mourning to ruling: breefelie, of a pri­soner made a Princesse, and placed in her throne Royall, proclaimed now Queene, with as many glad heartes of The Lord make England thanke­full to him, for his great bene­fites. her Subiectes, as euer was any King or Queene in this Realme before her, or euer shall be (I dare saye) heereaf­ter, the Lord long holde his hand ouer her, and send her to rule many and happy yeeres I beseech him. Amen.

In this pittifull and rufull Historie, thou hast (O Eng­land) three especiall thinges to consider. First, the hard­nesse of the time then being, and the vnmercifulnesse of those mens hearts, who prepared all their deuillishe polli­cies, Consideration of the hardnesse of the time then, and the cruell dealing against Lady Elizabeth. and inuented a world of wyles and deceites, whereby they might gaine oportunitie to destroy this woorthy and famous Lady, whose innocencie could not appease their blood thirstinesse, nor whose vertues could not asswage their cruell dealing: but euen as the wicked Iewes cried death against our Sauiour, euen so these vnnaturall men did their vttermost against this Noble Lady. Secondlie, thou art to note her woonderfull patience, her assured trust Consideration of the wonderfull patience of Lady Elizabeth. in God, who neuer fayled her: and euen when death was most of all threatned to her, and that many occasions was giuen for her to doubt the same, her patience was not any iote the more mooued, but being confident in God, to whom she referred the state of her innocencie, and extremitie of their rigorous intentes, she passed through all those ago­nies with a cheerefull and vndaunted heart, and their prac­tises to feare her was not so horrible, but her patience in suffering was as admirable. Thirdlie, thou must re­member, Consideration of the present helpe of God at all times to Lady Elizabeth. the ready working hand of God for her in all her daungers, how gratiouslie he preuented their deuises, and had such an especiall care ouer his Daughter, as no extre­mitie whatsoeuer could preuaile against her. For which exceeding loue towardes thee, how highlie thou art bound to his heauenlie Maiestie, the manifold happy blessinges thou hast and doost receiue by her, can sufficientlie tell thee. But as I haue heeretofore giuen thee to vnderstand, the [Page] punishment of Treason and tretcherous practises, in the raignes of the Kinges before passed: so likewise I must craue leaue a little, to speake of such matters as hath happened since the raigne of our Soueraigne Lady and Quéene, and then will we procéede on with the rest of our intent.

¶ Since the raigne of our most grati­ous and Soueraigne Lady Queene Elizabeth.

THe fourth and fift day of Ianuarie, did suffer at Dur­ham to the number of thrée score and six Constables and Rebelles execu­ted at Durham. 1570. other, who were pertakers in the rebellion in the North, with the Lordes of Westmerland and Northumberland: amongst whome an Alderman of the Towne, and a Priest called Plometree were the most notable. Then Sir George Bowes Marshall, finding many to be faultors in the foresaide rebellion, did sée them executed in euerie mar­kette Towne and other places, betwixt Newcastell and Wetherbie, about thrée score miles in length, and fortie miles in breadth.

On good Fridaie, the seuen and twentie daie of March, Simon Digbie of Askew, Iohn Fulthorp of Isilbecke in the Rebelles execu­ted at Yorke. Countie of Yorke Esquiers, Robert Peneman of Stokesley, Thomas Bishoppe the younger of Poklinton in the same Countie of Yorke Gentlemen, were drawne from the Ca­stell of Yorke, to the place of execution called Knaues-myre, halfe a mile without the Cittie of Yorke, and there han­ged, headed and quartered: their foure heads were set on the foure principall gates of the Cittie, with foure of their quarters, the other quarters were set in diuers places of the Countrie: Oscolph Clesbe was with them drawne to the gallowes, and returned againe to the Castell.

One Hillyard the Earle of Northumberlands man, and Rebelles execu­ted at Berwicke. a vagraunt person named William Godswher, were ta­ken [Page 33] among the other rebelles, and were brought to Ber­vvicke, where they were executed the foure and twentie day of Maie.

The seuen and twentie day of Maie, Thomas Norton The Nortons executed. and Christopher Norton of Yorkeshiere, being both con­demned of high treason, for the late rebellion in the North: were drawne from the Tower of London to Tiborne, and there hanged, headed and quartered.

A conspiracie was made by certaine Gentlemen and o­ther, in the Countie of Norfolke, whose purpose was on Conspiracie in Norfolke. Midsommer day, at Harlestone Fayre, with sound of Trū ­pet and Drum, to haue raysed a number, and then to pro­claime their deuillishe pretence against Straungers and other. This matter was vttered by Thomas Kete one of the conspiracie, vnto Iohn Kensey, who foorthwith sent the same Kete with a Constable to the next Iustice, before whome and other Iustices, he opened the whole matter. Whereupon, Maister Dreugh Drewrie immediatlie ap­prehended Iohn Throckmorton, and after him many Gentlemen of the Cittie of Norwich, and the Countie of Norfolke, who were all committed to prison. And at the next Sessions of Gaole deliuerie at the Castell of Nor­wich, the seuentéene of Iulie, before Sir Robert Catlin Knight, Lord cheefe Iustice, Maister Gilbert Gerrard, the Queenes Attourney generall, and other Iustices, ten of them were endighted of high Treason, and some others of contempt, diuers of them were condemned, and had iudge­ment the one and twentie of August, and afterward thrée of them were hanged, bowelled and quartered, which were Iohn Throckmorton of Norvvich Gentleman, who stoode mute at his arraignement, but at the gallowes, confessed himselfe to be the chéefe conspiratour, and that none had deserued to die but he, for that he had procured them. With him was executed Thomas Brooke of Rolsebie Gentle­man, the thirtie day of August, and George Redman of Cringlefoord Gentleman, was likewise executed the second day of September.

[Page] The eight day of August, Iohn Felton, who before had Iohn Felton ex­ecuted in Paules Churchyard in London. 1571. béen condemned in the Guild Hall of London, for hanging a Bull at the gate of the Bishoppe of Londons Pallace, was drawne from Newgate into Paules Churchyarde, and there hanged on a gallowes newe set vp that morning, be­fore the Bishops Pallace gate: and being cut downe aliue, he was bowelled and quartered.

The first day of Iune, Iohn Storie a Doctor of the Can­non Doctour Storie executed at Ty­borne. 1572. Lawe, who had béene a great persecutour of Gods flocke in the raigne of Quéene Marie, hauing béene before condenmed of high treason: was drawne from the Tower of London to Tiborne, and there hanged, bowelled and quartered, his head set on London Bridge, and his quarters on the gates of the Cittie.

The eleuenth day of Februarie, Kenelme Barney, and Kenelme Barney, Edward Mather, and Henry Rolfe executed for treason. Edward Mather, were drawne from the Tower of Lon­don to Tiborne, and Henrie Rolfe from the Marshalsea in Southwarke, to the same place of execution: where they were all thrée hanged, bowelled and quartered for treason. Barney and Mather for conspiracie, and Rolfe for counter­feiting the Quéenes Maiesties hand.

The sixtéenth of Ianuarie, the Lord Thomas Haward, Duke of Norfolke, was arraigned in VVestminster Hall, The Duke of Norfolke con­demned for high treason, and be­headed on the Tower hyll. before George Lord Talbot, Earle of Shrewesburie, high Steward of England for that day: and there by his Péeres found guilty of high treason, and had iudgement according­lie. So on the second day of Iune following, in the mor­ning betwéene the houres of seuen and eight, the said Tho­mas Haward Duke of Norfolke, was beheaded on a Scaf­folde set vp on the Tower hill.

The two and twentie day of August, Thomas Percie The Earle of Northumber­land beheaded at Yorke for high treason. Earle of Northumberland, late of Topcliffe, who had béene before attainted by Parliament of high treason, as being one of the principall conspiratours in the late rebellion in the North, and now brought out of Scotland, whether he had fledde: was beheaded at Yorke, about two of the clocke in the after noone, on a newe Scaffolde, set vp for [Page 34] that purpose in the Market place.

The eight and twentie day of Nouember, Iohn Hall Gentleman, and Oswalde Wilkinson late of Yorke, and Iohn Hall and Oswald Wilkin­son executed. 1573. Gaoler of Yorke Castell, being before arraigned and con­demned of high treason: were drawne from the Tower of London to Tiborne, and there hanged, bowelled and quartered.

The sixtéene day of Iune, Thomas Woodhouse a Priest Thomas Wood­house executed. 1574. of Lincolneshiere, who had béen long prisoner in the Fléet, was arraigned in the Guild hall of London, and there con­demned of high treason: who had iudgement to be hanged and quartered, and was executed at Tiborne the ninetéene day of Iune.

Cuthbert Mayne, being condemned of high treason, the Cuthbert Mayne executed. 1577. thirtie day of Nouember, was drawne, hanged and quar­tered at Lawnceston, in the prouince of Cornewall.

The third day of Februarie, earlie in the morning, Iohn Iohn Nelson executed. Nelson, being condemned of high treason against her Ma­iestie: was drawne from Newgate to Tiborne, and there hanged, bowelled and quartered.

The seuentéene day of Februarie, one named Thomas Thomas Sher­wood executed. 1578. Sherwood, hauing béen before condemned of high treason, was drawne from the Tower of London to Tiborne, and was there hanged, bowelled and quartered.

William Lacie, and one Kirkman a Priest, being con­demned William Lacie & Kirkman exe­cuted at Yorke. of high treason, were drawne, hanged and quarte­red at Yorke.

Euerard Haunse alias Ducket, an obstinate and a wic­ked Euerard Haunse executed. Traitour, hauing béene condemned of high treason, was drawne from Newgate to Tiborne, and there hanged and quartered, according to his iudgement.

The first day of December, Edmund Campion Iesuite, Edmund Cam­pion, Ralphe Sherwin, and A­lexander Briant executed. 1581. Ralphe Sherwin, & Alexander Briant Seminarie Priests, were, drawne from the Tower of London to Tiborne, where they were hanged, and afterward were bowelled and quartered for high treason.

On Monday the eight and twentie day of Maie, Tho­mas Thomas Foord, Iohn Shert, and Robert Iohnson executed. [Page] Foord, Iohn Shert, and Robert Iohnson Priests, who were copartners with Campion in his traiterous enter­prises, were drawne from the Tower of London to Ti­borne, where they were hanged, bowelled and quartered for high treason.

On wednesday following, being the thirtie day of May, Luke Kirbie, William Filbie, Thomas Cottā, and Lauraunce Richardson. 1582. Luke Kirbie, William Filbie, Thomas Cottam, and Lau­raunce Richardson, who were likewise of Campions con­federacie: were drawne from the Tower of London to Tiborne, and there hanged, bowelled and quartered for high treason.

Iohn Slade and Iohn Bodye, two obstinate and notori­ous Iohn Slade, and Iohn Body exe­cuted. Traitours, being condemned of high treason: Iohn Slade was drawne, hanged and quartered at VVinchester, on Wednesdaye being the third daye of October, and Iohn Bodye executed in like manner at Andouer on the Satur­daye following.

Edward Arden Esquier, being condemned of high trea­son, Edward Arden executed in Smithfield. 1583. was drawne from Newgate into Smithfield, where he was hanged, bowelled and quartered. And Iohn Som­meruile, who should haue béene executed with him, being condemned for the same offence, destroyed himselfe in Newgate the day before.

William Carter, a Stationer by Occupation, for printing William Carter executed. of traiterous Bookes and other notorious offences, was drawne from Newgate to Tiborne, where he was hanged bowelled and quartered.

On Wednesday being the twelfth day of February, Had­docke, Haddock, Fenne, Hemerfoord, Nutter and Mū ­den executed. Fenne, Hemerfoord, Munden and Nutter, were all fiue drawne from the Tower of London to Tiborne, where they were hanged, bowelled & quartered for high treason.

Fraunces Throckmorton Esquier, for diuers traiterous Frances Throck­morton execu­ted. 1584. practises attempted against the Quéenes Maiestie, was ar­raigned and condemned in the Guild hall of London, and afterward on the tenth day of Iulie, he was drawne from the Sessions house in London to Tiborne, where he was hanged, bowelled and quartered.

[Page 35] Héere maiest thou O England (as in a Glasse) behold the successe of treason from time to time, by these so many and sundrie examples héere offered vnto thée, whereof full ma­ny remaine freshe and quicke in remembrance, thou maist discerne, how God, who placeth Kinges and Princes in their seates and Signories, and by whose appointment they haue their ruling on earth: dooth sharply chastise such wicked braunches, as deale otherwise then beséemes them with their Princes and Gouernours. Be their mindes God sharply scourgeth al trai­tours, who prac­tise any euyll a­gainst their Prince. neuer so hautie, be their deuises neuer so subtill, yea, and let them worke neuer so closelie: his eye discerneth them, and séeing their secrete intentions is against them whome he hath annointed, he bringeth them and their practises to open view, that the world maye sée their vnduetifull dea­ling, and by the punishment which he woorthelie imputeth to such offendours, the rest may learne and dispose them­selues to better gouernement. But let me England come a lyttle néerer thée, and order the matter so, as thou mayst finde thy selfe touched in déede. Perhappes thou wilt saye these thinges are doone and past, and they were but a cer­taine fewe that thus haue offended, and being iustly scour­ged for their misdemeanours, they are now quite worne out of remembraunce, in hope there remaineth none such as they haue béene. Alas, canst thou thus blindlie ouer­throwe thy selfe in conceite? Doost thou not consider, that England hath beene greatly en­daungered by traiterous practi­ses. all these euill impes haue béene of thine owne bréeding, and that thou hast fostred such Children, as haue pierced into thy bowelles, shaken all thy sinewes, yea, and almost haue wrung the verie marowe out of thy ioyntes, where­by thou hast béene so féebled, and thy strength so farre de­caied, as without Gods great mercie thou hadst béene vn­able euer to arise againe? And cannot these irking occasi­ons yet make thée mindful of thy good? Cannot these bitter passions cause thée to look better to thy children? To traine them vp in more awe of God, in better affection to their Prince, and in more effectuall loue (then they yet shew) to [Page] thy selfe? If thy children be so vnnatural, as to make their mother smart, thou shalt but shew thy selfe naturall in mi­nistring correction: for better they wéepe then thou bléede, so shall they in time finde it to their benefite, and thou thy selfe liue to be a happy mother. But if thou séeke that state The cause of an euyll cut off, the effect can take no place. of quietnesse, and art desirous to weede out such badde plantes as trouble thy whole Soyle: thou must looke into the dealinges of thy Children more heedefullie then thou doost, and spying where the inconuenience lyeth, ra­ther slippe off that braunch suddenlie, then hazard the pe­rishing of the whole body, and then thou shalt take an vn­doubted good course: then treason and tretcherous practises will neuer be so rife, and such queazie stomackes as cannot brooke necessarie councell, but follow euerie disordered hu­mour, will be glad to call themselues home againe, and liue within compasse of duetie and modestie.

But whence grow these daungerous practises? And who are they that set foote in these traiterous attempts? Alas it is soone seene, by reason the open apparaunce from time to time, dooth make it euident. There is no one that repineth No greater eni­mies to the safe­tie of England, then Papists. at her Maiesties safety, no one that lifteth at the wel setled gouernement of this Realme, nor any one more ready to pul down the chéefe piller of our happines: but either he is a Papist, or else meruailously addicted that way. And haue we not good cause so to perswade our selues, when we sée it dailie before our eyes, that they are men of that coate, and either haue receiued encouragement amongst their fellowes beyond Seas, or else haue béene imboldened by such as secretly flippe ouer into the Realme, to follow that traiterous intent which they long time haue practised. And then when God reuealeth their wicked spirites, and bringeth them into the lyght that they may be example to The common speech of Tray­tours at theyr death. other: then they crie out, I am a Catholique, I will dye in the Catholique cause, and thus vnder shewe of Religi­on, they would deceiue the world with their horrible trea­sons. It is now hie time therfore, when Traitors them­selues haue giuen warning of their owne treasons, to [Page 36] search the confederacie, yea, and as Miners followe the signes euerie way as they spread in the ground, till they be guided to the trunke or body of the Mettall: so to followe the apparaunces of suspitions and likelyhoods, tyll it ap­peare plainlie what light made the shaddowe, or what fire made the smoke. It is not good tarying, tyll the flame mounting in the ayre aboue the house toppe, the principals and pillers consumed, and eche part so imbraced with fire, that no aide dare approche: doo plainlie declare, the whole building past hope of recouerie. Fires oftentimes negli­gentlie raked vp, sticks endes not throughly quenched, em­bers not regarded, a candles ende not looked vnto: haue brought many an honest man to pittifull calamitie. I like therefore better the honest wisedome of those, that stu­die It is the duety of euerie good sub­iect, to haue a speciall care of the safety of his Prince. how the Quéenes Maiestie our most gratious Ladie may stand and not fall, then the reaching pollicie of those, that deuise how themselues may stand when the Queene is fallen. God preserue her Highnesse long, for her falling would make a Sampsons poste with vs all: yea, and right­lie a Sampsons poste, for no doubt it would broose them too, that be busiest to pull it downe. But now (England) I will be so bolde as to emblazon the Papists a little better, that thou maist be the more héedfull to them, and giue no credite to their secrete perswasions, and according as a woorthy learned man, hath héeretofore painted them foorth in notable conclusions: euen so since the time, place & mat­ter requireth it so fitlie, it shall not be a misse héere to re­member thée of the verie same conclusions, and surelie all true Christians, and all true Englishe subiectes ought to beléeue, and may well knowe, that these are verie true and vndoubted conclusions.

First that euerie Papist, that is to saye, euerie one that The first conclu­sion, of such as hold al the Popes doctrine to be true. beléeueth all the Popes doctrine, to be true: is an enimie and traytour, against the Maiestie and honour of God, a­gainst the Crownes and dignities of all Kinges and tem­porall Princes, and against the wealth and safetie of all ciuill Kingdomes, policies, and Common weales.

[Page] Secondlie, that euerie such English Papist is a traitour The second con­clusion, of such as expect theyr Golden day. to the Quéene of England, and hateth her life, wisheth the alteration of her gouernement, and liueth in hope of an o­ther world: which euen by an ordinarie by-word, it is said themselues doo call their Golden day.

Thirdlie, that euerie such Englishe Papist is a speciall The third con­clusion, of such as would ouerthrow theys Countrey, for theyr Idola­trous Religion. traitour to the Realme of England, and hath no regard into what slauerie, subiection to forreine tirannie, dishonour or other miserie it be throwne: so that their false, Idolatrous and superstitious religion be restored, with liberty to spoile and murder, without respect of dignitie, age, sexe, learning, reuerence, honestie or nature.

Fourthlie, that no clemencie, gentlenesse, benefits, or lo­uing The fourth con­clusion, of such as can not be wun to loue her Ma­iestie. dealing, can win a Papist, while he continueth a Pa­pist, to loue her Maiestie, how much so euer he dissemble, nor bring them to ascribe their safetie to any her benefites, nor to any praise of her owne goodnesse: but either to their owne dissimulation, practise, and falsehood, which some call cunning, or to the holinesse of their cause, for whome God forsooth so prouideth, as his annointed ones may not possi­blie by Lawe, or at least execution of Lawe, be touched. Where in déede, if they continue styll vnpunished, it must be thought that GOD so purueyeth, because the punish­ments of this world are not sufficient for them: but yet in the meane time it serueth to make them vnexcusable, by whose default so daungerous Woolues remayne in the flocke.

Item, that Papistry hath this propertie of heresies, con­trarie to the nature of Gods trueth: that is, to be throwne The fift conclu­sion, of the pro­perty of papistry. downe with aduersitie, and to flourishe with indulgence and lenitie.

Item, that as it is reason, that the owner of a shéepbiter The sixt conclu­sion, of such Pa­pistes as are mur derers of Gods flocke. Mastife, knowing his dogges qualitie: should either hang vp his dogge, or pay for the shéepe that his dogge worrieth. So those that haue notorious Shéepbiters, murderers of Gods flocke, in their custody and power, must make their account, either to hang vp or otherwise dispatche their [Page 37] curres: or else to aunswer to God for the blood of his shéep, both such as they haue destroyed, and such as they may de­stroie by any possibilitie héereafter.

Item, that all aduises to great personages, to perswade The seuenth conclusion, of the causes of supplan ting assured safetie. neutralitie, or an entertaining of contrarie sides in Reli­gion, with vncertainty of countenaunce and fauour: is the waie to supplant assured safetie, to make sure enimies and vnsure fréendes, to lye open to parasites and traitours, to be vnknowne to other, and to be vnable to discerne what other be to them.

Item, that timerous policie is the wurst policie that The eight con­clusion, how ty­merous policie is wurst, in a good cause. may be, whatsoeuer the cause be, good or bad, and wurst of all it is in best causes. Wherein as her Maiestie hath nei­ther want of constaunt magnanimitie, nor cause of feare: so is it méete that her enimies haue no stomacke to con­temne her, nor by excesse of clemencie, to misconstrue her goodnesse as lacke of daring.

Item, that by the great nouelties and alterations of The ninth con­clusiō, of zealous boldnesse in ser­uing the Queen. times, that haue happened within our memorie, there is risen a cōmon policie among the people, to ioyne to strong and safe sides, whereby they are aliened from the feare­full: and therefore it is to be prouided, that there be a boldnesse of safetie, to serue the Quéenes Maiestie true­lie and zealouslie, and an assurednesse of daunger to her enimies.

Item, by boldnesse, and sharpe execution vpon enimies, The tenth con­clusion, that boldnesse dooth encourage the freendes. the fréendes are encouraged: and contrariwise, if the daū ­gerous traitour be not remooued, the true Subiect may be left in perill, and thereby the rest of good Subiects disabled, or at least discouraged to venter so farre againe, and the fréedome of consultation (in the meane time) for preseruing the Prince, impeached.

Item, that it is as truelie saide: Improbum hominem The eleuenth conclusion, of the daunger in med­ling with a naughty man. praestat non accusasse quam absoluere. It is better not to meddle with a daungerous naughtie man, then to let him goe: for what were it else, but to set an house on fire, and run away by the light.

[Page] Item, that occasions and [...]tte oportunities ouer slipped, The twelfth con­clusion, of tyme. are not recouerable.

Item, that many times it is as small an offence, to giue The thirteenth conclusion, as good the killing a true mā as spa­ring a traitour. a warrant to kill a true man: as to pardon a murderer or a traitour: as a wise Shéepheard will rather giue leaue to a Hunter, to kill the best Lambe in his flocke, then to let goe a Fore or a Woolfe.

Item, that the liues of Kinges and Princes, are the The foureteenth conclusion, that the life of a king, is the lyfe of his kingdome. liues and soules of their Kingdoms and Common weales, whereby they are to consider, that in being prodigall of their owne safeties, in excesse of clemencie to traitours, or in securitie of exposing their personnes to perilles: Largi­untur ex alieno, they be liberall of that, which is not their owne to giue.

Item, that no Traitour is more perillous, then he that The fifteenth conclusion, the most perillous traytour. wresteth the Lawe, to raise an vnderminer of the Princes Crowne, to her daunger.

Item, that he is iustlie to be suspected, that shall practise The sixteenth conclusion, of such as stand a­gainst the Prin­ces defence. with any vaine deuise of pacification, or coullored clemen­cie, to rebate or blunt the edge of the Princes sword, or so to tye it in the scabberd, that it may not be drawne for her defence: as if such qualifiers, hiders and cloakers, should séeke to abuse that most reuerend and holie figure of Ma­iestie to no good end, or other end then God ordained it.

Item, that God cannot well take it, if he be lesse zea­louslie serued then the deuill, that there be lesse feruencie The seuenteenth conclusion, when God is lesse ser­ued then the deuill. shewed by truelie learned Princes, for auauncing of Gods honour against his enimies: then hath béen by abused and deceiued Princes, for setting vp of the kingdome of the de­uill and Antichrist.

Item, that Gods commaundements of placabilitie and The eighteenth conclusiō, that no attempt against her Maiestie, ought to be ac­counted a priuate cause. forgiuenesse, extend to our owne enimies, but not to his enimies, against reuenge of priuate displeasures, and not against seueritie and sharpe execution, in cases of Gods honour and Common weales: wherein is alwayes to be noted, that the Prince is so not a priuate but a publique person, as no attempt against her Maiesties safetie, can or [Page 38] ought to be accounted a priuate cause.

The full proofe and large explication of these conclusi­ons, though it be easie, as a thing which not onelie all con­ueniencie of reason affirmeth, but also daylie experience laieth before all mens eyes, that haue a frée consideration, not accombred with corrupt zeale and affection: so yet surelie were it a méete thing to be handled by some man, as could adde thereto such ornamentes of spéeche, such strength of eloquence, and pith of perswasion, as might not onelie be vnderstoode and beléeued, but be felt and mooue. Héere any most excellent Orators speciall vertues might be well imployed. A fit argument sure it were to shewe wit and knowledge, but speciallie trueth & good meaning. But tyll some fit person shall take it in hand, to bestowe his more profitable trauaile that waie: let vs yet for vn­lading of some of the aboundaunce of intire deuotion for Gods trueth, for her most excellent Maiestie, and our Countrie, haue some remembraunce of the particularities thereof.

For the first article that defineth Papistes, that accuseth The meaning and proofe of the first conclusion. them of treason to God, to Kinges, and to Realmes: if it be well weied, it cannot but quicklie be séen for vndoubted trueth. Though it be true, that euerie one that holdeth any one error, or article of doctrine that the Pope teacheth, va­rying from the word of God, is in that article a Papist, as for example, the heresie of Transubstantiation, the blasphe­mie of popishe Masse, or any such other: yet count I not euerie such a one wholie a Papist within compasse of this article, that is, vnder the title of a traiterous Papist. But such a one as holdeth all the Popes doctrine to be true, that Not all Papistes are traitours. the Romane Church erreth not, that it hath rightfully such superioritie and primacie in others Kingdomes and Dio­ceses, Note this Eng­land. as it hath proudlie claimed and vsurped, and that Christians are bound to referre their faith vnto it, and to hang vpon the Popes determinations. Many men other­wise good and honest Subiectes, are not purged of all er­rors, wherewith Rome hath infected them, and must haue [Page] their time to be better instructed. But those that are per­fect Papistes, that publishe the Pope to be head of the Church (which yet in déede is no member of the true Which Papistes are traytours. Church) and would haue vs with an implicite and bonde faith, to depend vpon that Sea, and for that reason will re­fuse by all meanes, to confesse the right of Princes in their Kingdomes ouer all their Subiectes: they be perfect tray­tours in déede, yea, and the learned sort of them be wilfull Heretikes and Traitours. For though in the darke Learned Papists wilfull traitours. times, when controuersies of Religion were not brought into searching, the streame of error carried men away without doubting: yet since that by debating, the light hath béene euidentlie opened, and men haue sought and throughlie examined the matter, there is no learned Pa­pist, but he knoweth that he maintaineth error, and in de­fending and spreading the same, he defendeth & spreadeth, and so directlie, aduisedlie, wilfullie and maliciouslie, put­teth in execution to his vttermost power, high treasons a­gainst God, against Kinges and their Kingdomes. Against God I call them treasons, though our Lawe, the iudge of ciuill treasons in England, haue no such name, because the Treason, offence against Maiesty. nature of the offence so properlie receiueth that tytle, and also the vsuall name of high treason in Iure gentium, in the common lawe of Nations, and in other languages, dooth so plainelie expresse it. High treasons are in their true na­ture, offences against high Maiestie, that is, either to the destruction of the persons, or deniall and defacement of the iust dignities and authorities, of those that beare the name of Maiestie, and to whome the highest duetie of obedience, faith and alleageaunce extendeth. And therfore is treason called Crimen lesae Maiestatis, the crime of violating or abating Maiestie. Greater Maiestie then the Maiestie of God cannot be: therefore higher and verier treasons then against God cannot be. His person cannot be destroyed, or Treason against God. touched: but his dignitie, honour, glorie and authoritie may be slaundered and blasphemed, and his Subiects, who are mortall men, may be withdrawne from their due obe­dience, [Page 39] and drawne into rebellion against him. And this I say is high treason to God, to violate or abate the Maiestie of God: and this doo Papists. For though God be King of Papists violate the Maiestie of God, which is high treason a­gainst him. the whole world, and so is rightlie called the Lord by vni­uersall name, yea, euen of deuilles: yet is his Church his more proper and certaine kingdome, whereby he is more restrainedlie and aplie called our King and our Father, and so more fitlie called our head in respect of the body, which is his Church, and not the rest of the world. In this Kingdome his highest dignitie is to be the onelie head ther­of, which the Papistes take from him, and deriue it to their Pope. And though with gloses they excuse it, that their Popes take it not from God, but vse it vnder God, as his Uicares: yet must they be admonished, that with­out sufficient deputation, and warrant from the King him selfe, (which the Pope hath not) the Subiect to thrust him selfe into the gouernance of the kingdome, is high treason, where he that being a straunger would séeke to conquere it, were but an enimie. And so is it rightlie to be saide, that The Pope an high Traitour a­gainst God, and the Turke but an enimie. the Turke is to God an enimie, and the Pope is to God a traitour, and all his adherents are principall traitours: for treason admitteth no accessaries.

But now let vs come to that part, which toucheth men Papists Traitours to Kinges and Kingdomes. more néerelie then any loue of God. Let vs now sée how they be traytours to Kinges and Kingdomes. If we haue minde to sée that Papistes, which holde all the Popes doc­trine to be true, are traytours in déede to Kings and King­domes: it behooueth vs to call to minde what are the Popes doctrines, dooinges and practises concerning the Crownes of Kinges, and states of Kingdomes. Popes haue challenged, and Papistes (that affirme the Popes to be frée from error, their doctrine to be true, and their authori­tie to be lawfull) doo also holde, that it is their due which Traiterous doc­trines of Popes for Kinges and Kingdomes. they challenge, that is: To haue authority of both Swords, Spirituall and Temporall, the one in exercise, the other in power: To haue the disposition of all the Crownes of Christian Princes: To haue the iudgement of deciding, [Page] to whome the right of any kingdome belongeth: To haue power for disobedience to him, or by his discretiō, to trans­ferre the Crownes of Kinges to whome he will: To haue lawfull power, to giue Kingdomes to prey, spoyle and con­quest, to such as can inuade and possesse them: To haue power to assoyle and discharge Christian subiectes, from faith and alleageaunce to theyr lawful and naturall Soue­raigne Lordes, Kinges and Princes: To haue power to giue leaue, yea, commaundement, blessing, reward, for­giuenesse of sinnes, and Heauen it selfe, to Subiects to re­bell The Pope will giue heauen to Subiectes, to re­bell against their Prince. against theyr Prince, to depose the Prince, disherite and destroy him: That there is of common right, and by the méere lawe of God, reserued to the Pope a speciall sub­iection, resorte, appellation, and obedience of one great part of all Princes Subiectes, yea, and of all Subiectes of all Princes in one great part of theyr causes. Be not these heinous treasons? And these cannot be denied, to be the naturall and verie treasons of all Papists, that is to say, of all that depend vpon credite of the Pope, that holde him for Gods Uicar, for Peters successor, for whome Christ prayed, that his faith should not fayle, that applie to him this title: Ad quem perfidia non potest accedere, to whome falsehood cannot reach, that holde him for a constant Rocke, an assu­red Preacher of trueth, an Apostolicall man, if he be not some other thing then a man, to whome our beléefe is bounden: with such other false tytles, wherewith Popes themselues, haue garnished themselues, and theyr Para­sites haue ouerloden them.

Consider the ordinarie practise of Popes and Papistes according to these doctrines, and then you shall sée, that Traiterous doo­inges of Papistes against Kinges & Kingdomes: spe­ciall matter for England to marke. from the most high treason, which the Pope committed against his Soueraigne Lord the Emperour: the renting and destructiō of the Empire: all the victories and successes of the Saracens and Turkes against Christendome: all the tearing away of most noble and large Kingdomes and prouinces, from the body of Christianitie: all the subduing and thralling of infinite Christian soules, to Mahomet and [Page 40] the Deuill: all the deposinges, murderinges, turmoylings, ciuill warres, debates betwéene Christian Princes, shed­ding of Christian blood, indignities and oppressions of Christian Kinges and Emperours, conquestes, rebel­lions and mischéefes, for these fiue hundred yéeres and a­boue: are wholly and chéefely to be imputed to the trea­sons of Popes and Papistes. All Grecia (sometime most noble and learned) yet lamentably rueth it. All Affrica, the mother of most constaunt Martyres, féeleth it. The Germane Emperours, with most heinous reproches, and fowle treading on theyr neckes, may not forget it. The Kinges of Fraunce and Spaine, both at home in their natiue Kingdomes, and abroad, as well in Naples, Sicilie, Lombar­die, as in other territories of Italie and of the Empire, haue sharply felt it. The Lordes and States of Italie, haue béene daylie and long shaken with it. The Kinges of England haue béene poysoned, whipped, beaten with rods, murdered, deposed, the Land giuen in conquest, interdi­ted, made tributarie, robbed, pylled and scraped of theyr treasure, brought into slauishe subiection, depriued of ho­nour and estimation, euerie way most villainously abused. To let passe the elder times and further Realmes, let vs speake of deposing of olde Emperours, erecting of newe, setting the Sonne against the Father, the Subiect against his Lord, making them come bare footed, themselues with theyr wiues and children long waighting with submission Behold the hor­rible pride and villainous dea­ling of Popes & Papistes, and sla­uerie of Princes. in colde frostes, treading on theyr neckes, spurning of their Crownes, & a thousand such abhominable prides of Popes, and slaueries of Princes. Let vs deale but with our selues, and with our owne féeling, knowledge and memo­rie. The accursing of King Iohn: the receyuing him vas­saill: the making his Realme subiect and feudatorie to the Example of the Popes & Papistes dealing with King Iohn. Pope: the arming his Subiects against him: the poyso­ning of him at length: the giuing the Land to the French Kinges sonne: the inuading thereof by the Dolphin of Fraunce: his so long possessing a great part of it: the re­bellion of the Barons to take the French mens part: all [Page] the mischéefes that fell in all this whyle, were they not the good workes of Popes and Papistes? The great deuision of the two noble houses of Lancaster and Yorke, which cost The great deui­sion between the two noble hou­ses of Lancaster and Yorke, cau­sed by the Popish Clergy and Papistes. so much Englishe blood, that there remayneth no house of high or meane Nobilitie, that hath not smarted for it. So many foughten fieldes within the Realme, so long and so great vncertaintie, which side were true men and which were Traitours, and for how many dayes or howres they should be so estéemed: such desolation and miseries, to whome are they to be imputed, but to the Popishe Clergie and Papists, and among other to Thomas Arundell Arch­bishoppe of Canterburie, that trayterouslie practised the de­posing of his lawfull Soueraigne Lord King Richard the Thomas Arch­bishop of Can­terbury, practised the deposing of King Richard the second. second? But come yet to later times. Howe was the Quéenes Maiesties most noble Father, assaulted by the Pope and Papistes? His Realme was interdited, and gi­uen away to him that could catch it. Legates, and one no­table English traitour, were sent about to perswade Chri­stian Princes, to inuade England, to destroye and depose King Henry the eight, assaulted by the Pope and Papistes. King Henrie, and to take the Realme in reward for their labour. When Charles the late Emperour was setting forward against the Turke, Cardinall Poole being sent by the Pope, made a solemne Oration to him, which is yet extant in print: to perswade the Emperour, to turne his prepared power from inuading the Turke, and to bend it against King Henrie the eight, as one wurse then any Turke. What turmoile was then raised by the Northren Rebelles against him, whereof some by his clemencie (a good example) haue liued to this day to raise a new rebel­lion? How troubled they her Maiesties most excellent Brother with vnhappy seditions? How vexed they, and King Edward the sixt vexed by the Papistes. how endaungered they the Realme, and the Quéenes own person in her Sisters time, as in the Storie before rehear­sed you may reade at large? What might Charles the Emperour haue doone, for recouery and enlarging of Chri­stendome, if his force that way intended, had not by the Popes practise béene peruerted sundrie wayes and times, [Page 41] to [...]in shedding of christian blood, and wasting of Christen­dome, and to the ouerthrowe of his victorious course? What tempests hath the late conspiracie of Trent blowne The conspiracie of the late Coū ­cell of Trent. vp in Christendome, that cannot yet be quieted: and all be­cause the Pope hath instilled an opinion into his Papistes, that Princes, if he dispence with them, are not bounde to The Pope tea­cheth to keepe no faith. kéepe faith and promise, no, not the word of a King, wher­by no peace can be assured? Whereof yet ryseth one good admonition, to trust them no more, and to be well ware of them, and speciallie to thinke of this one particular: that wicked persons, who haue giuen occasion of daungerous rebellions against the Quéenes Maiestie, their chéefe and onelie succour and refuge, will neuer be withholden by a­ny respect, from attempting, or procuring to be attemp­ted, any most high and heinous treason and mischéefe, a­gainst our Soueraigne Ladies safetie, if an auauntage­able oportunitie may serue them, so long as such persons are infected with Papistrie, and can thinke the Pope able to pardon, or rather willing to reward them, yea, so farre as they shall suppose themselues, not onely to winne the Kingdome of England therby, but also the kingdome of Heauen. It is perillous to thinke what traiterous rage may doo, being armed with drunken superstition. It is a sore thing to consider the impotencie of ambition, specially when it is ioyned with the furie of reasonlesse loue. The The whoore of Rome an actuall dealer in all wic­ked practises a­gainst Kinges & Kingdomes. common experience is, how daungerous those knottes of théeues be, where there is a woman in the company. Thus is it plaine, that for as much as the Pope claymeth such wrongful vsurpation and tiranny, ouer Kings & Realmes, and sith Papists holde that he sayth true, and claymeth but his right, and cannot erre in discerning it: all such Papists are Traitours to all Kinges and Kingdomes.

As for the second Conclusion, which accuseth Englishe Papistes of treason to the Quéenes Maiestie: it is suffi­cientlie The second con­clusion, prouing Englishe Papistes traytours to the Queene. prooued, for that it is a perticular within a gene­rall, included in the former. Yet for the speciall confirma­tion of it, it hath certaine priuate and seuerall reasons. [Page] It is well knowne, and you haue read the whole discourse before, how they sought her Graces death in her Sisters time, what practises, what fetches were vsed for it, what examinations, what searchinges, were to finde couller of her destruction: yea, how farre without couller they pro­céeded, if God had not miraculouslie kept her, to the preser­uation of this Realme, and the comfort of all Christen­dome. But to make some demonstration of their hatred to her Maiestie by reason, & after to discend to the examples and practises: let vs examine the causes.

Whereas the Papistes holde, that the Pope is head of Papists that hold the Pope head of the Church in England, are traytours to her Maiestie. Gods vniuersall Church, and that such authoritie as the Quéene claimeth in England, ouer Ecclesiasticall persons and in Ecclesiasticall causes, as due to her Highnesse in right of her Crowne, is not due to her, but belonging to the Pope: in so saying, they must saye that her Maiestie claymeth an vniust tyrannicall power. And who so euer shall so saye, though not in the same sillables: is an vniust and an errant traitour, and cannot loue her that hath pul led him downe whome they call head of their Church.

Where the Pope hath accurssed the Quéenes Maiestie as an Heretique and Scismatique, all those Papists which Papistes that hold the Popes excommunicati­on against the Queene lawfull, are traytours. suppose, that the Pope hauing the disposition of Gods sen­tence, and the thunderbolte of excōmunication in his hand, cannot erre: doo also suppose that the Quéenes Highnesse, (our Quéene Elizabeth I meane) is not lawfull Quéene of England, (as many of them haue not spared to saye) for so must all Papistes holde, that holde the Pope to say true, for the Pope dooth not so accept her. And Papistes haue published, that Gospellers, whome they call Heretiques, ought not to haue any office among Gods people, much lesse a Kingdome. And this point is well to be considered, that they which take from the Quéenes Maiestie, the Su­premacie ouer Ecclesiastical persons and causes: doo trans­ferre the same iurisdiction to the Pope, for they neuer yet vouchsafed to giue it to any other. And yet I am sure, that after so many examples of Bées and Beastes and other [Page 42] thinges, they will not nowe haue any perticular Church headlesse, and destitute of a supreme Gouernour: either vniuersal like a Monarch as they would haue it, or speciall vnder God of eche Kingdome or Dominion, as Gods good disposition hath forced it. If then the Pope haue (in their opinion) any Ecclesiasticall iurisdiction in England, he must The Pope can­not excommuni­cate in England, vnlesse he had iust authoritie so to doo. haue I us excommunicandi, lawfull power and authority to excōmunicate in England: without which the Ecclesiasti­call power cannot stand. Which power if he iustlie haue, & hath excommunicated and accurssed her Maiestie, either by especiall name (as he dooth) or generallie vnder tytle of He­retiques, of which sort he estéemeth her: then hath he ther­in doone Pro suo iure as he might lawfullie doo. And this being so supposed true, then is it good to consider what is taken for Gods lawe, and the lawe Ecclesiasticall De vi­tandis excommunicatis, for shunning of excommunicate Papistes drawe obedience from the Queene. and accurssed persons, which yéeld not to any repentaunt submission, or reconciliation to the Church. Forsooth, that euery christian on paine of excōmunication De iure (wher­in to dye, is thought to dye in state of damnation) is bound to withdrawe from such accurssed persons not repenting, all fréendlie or louing company and countenaunce, all ayde and reléefe, all seruice and obedience. Which dooing, for Papistes merito­rious treason. these good Subiectes of England, to put in execution toward the Quéene, were a verie meritorious acte. But what dooth it merite? The iust paines of treason, for breaking their due alleageaunce, and eternall damnation (if they re­pent not) for resisting Gods lawfull ordinaunce. This géere goeth sore, it is verie euident and plaine, that by ne­cessarie consequence, to this confession of trayterousnesse they must be driuen, if they will continue Papistes, that is, will affirme the Popes sentences not to erre, or will giue the Pope any spirituall iurisdiction in England. But such salues are not vnlyke to come out of his shoppe, that dispenseth with breach of faith, yea, that openlie proclay­meth, that there is no faith to be kept with Christs fréends and his aduersaries. His shoppe that can send out badges, [Page] with leaue to sweare and vnsweare, with so lyberall per­mission, as to saye: Giue me thy heart and it suffyseth. And well may it suffise, for the heart will carrie the hand too, when oportunitie serueth, and when their Golden day approcheth, of which they make so great account. Such fellowes would be well looked on. And because they cannot gette her Highnesse to ceasse to be their lawfull Quéene, themselues haue ceassed to be her actuall Subiectes. Be­cause they cannot shifte her Maiestie from her Crowne, they haue shifted themselues out of her Highnesse Domi­nions, and are fled beyond the Seas. Some being there, send hyther their hereticall, seditious & traiterous Bookes: Seditious writers that send theyr trayterous Ly­belles into Eng­land. yet licenced there, against good president of Princes, and a­gainst the example of her Maiesties demeanour toward the same Princes, which by themselues or their Officers, rather ought to haue restrained such dooings, then to leaue so shrewd occasion, of taking harme themselues by the like. In these Bookes her right is impugned: her faith is defa­med: her gouernement is discredited: her honour is tou­ched: The circūstances of those trayte­rous Bookes. her Maiestie is many wayes violated and abated: the Religion that her Highnesse holdeth and publisheth, is called Scismaticall, Hereticall, Deuillish, and with as ma­ny yll fauoured names as they can rehearse, being yet in such eloquence perfect Oratours. The Preachers and pro­fessours of the Religion, that her Highnesse setteth foorth and professeth, are tearmed wurse then Infidels: her tytle of Supremacie ouer all her Subiectes, is defaced for an v­surped and vndue name, and her Subiectes hearts aliena­ted and perswade to grudge against her. These wicked and trayterous Pamphlettes want no fauourers to spread These trayterous Bookes want no fauourers to spread them a­broad, and to credit them with what cōmenda­tions they may. them abroade, nor doo they that disperse them lacke any boldnesse, to reade them in audiences & in corners: where they commend them, defend them, giue them great prayses for learning and substantialnesse, as matters vnaunswe­rable, when God he knowes there is no such surpassing ex­cellencie in them, as they that haue the spurres yet stic­king in theyr sides, and haue béene broken winded with [Page 43] ouer gallopping them, yea, they that are of their owne fac­tion haue not béen ashamed to speake it, how notablie they haue béen wounded by many of her Maiesties learned sub­iectes. Neuerthelesse, they continue writing still, and all pretences that both the Pope and Papistes can deuise, are daily and hourely spread abroad in the Realme, to weaken the good willes of her Maiesties Subiects toward her, and by all false and vaine coullers they can imagine, they prac­tise how to drawe more subiectes to take their parts. But in the meane time, as God gathereth his glorie out of all things, yea, euen out of sinnes: so England, out of this great The euyll dea­ling of Papistes, a good lesson for England. euill thou maist gather some good, a good example and good lesson for thée to learne, that Papistrie is treason, and he that is infected with treason is a traitour, and so prouide a­gainst them héerafter. Let them folow what humours they please, doo thou in the meane time take a contrarie course. Where they looke for an other time, doo thou endeuour to maintaine this time: Where they reach with expectation to altering of gouernement, doo thou bend all thy force, po­licie and meanes of seruice, to the defence of this estate: Where they pray for change, specially of Quéenes, do thou pray for the long and happy continuaunce of her Highnesse raigne: Where they hide rebellious stomackes, doo thou and thy Children shewe true and faithfull hearts: Where they desire, that her Maiestie and her Councell may be de­ceiued, with flattering & erronious pretence of policie, and couller of clemency, that vnder y^e shadowe they may lurke, and be nourished as serpent in bosome, doo thou praye to God to giue iudgement to discerne them, to search the bot­tome of their treasons, that they may be shaken out, & vsed as daungerous vipers: Where their trust is in the Pope, and popish treasons and conspiracies, let thy confidence be in God and his prouidence, not shrinking from the same with thy best courage and prudence: Where they will not sticke to vse all subtill vndermininges, and will not lose the vauntage of times, that they may one daye triumph in cruel violence, doo thou pray, that on this part be vsed all [Page] good policies, that Gods offered meanes and good oportu­nitie be not refused and ouerslipped, that God rent not the Kingdome from his annointed, for sparing of his enimies: but that it maye long flourishe in the handes of his most noble and vertuous handmaid, our most excellent and gra­tious Soueraigne Lady. Thus is it euident by reasons and examples, what hearts Papistes beare to her Ma­iestie.

The third Conclusion, that such Englishe Papistes are traitours to the Realme of England, &c. hath receiued two The third con­clusion proouing English papistes, traytours to the Realme of Eng­land. prooues already: the one in the general treasons of all Pa­pistes to all Realmes, wherein England and Englishe Pa­pistes are included, the other in their traiterous mindes to the Quéenes Maiesties person and dignitie, which is the highest treason that can be to the Realme of England. Yet are there some other perticular dooinges more speciallie to enforce it, namelie the experience that hath béene, of their casting away the care of their Countrie, and all other na­turall affections: to the ende with all immanitie, and out­ragious vnnaturall crueltie, to torment Englishe Christi­ans, and to subiect the Realme to forreine power, for their false religions sake. I am assured there are enow, and too many that can remember, both that they haue read in cre­dible Histories, and séene in lamentable experience: howe the Papistes haue shewed themselues so addicted to their The Papistes re­uerence to theyr Pope, hath made them carelesse of theyr Prince and Countrie. superstition, and so captiued to an vndue reuerence of their tyrannous Pope, that they haue for it reiected the care of Countrie, and of those to whome naturall duetie bounde them.

It is certaine, that that Englishe man which can be con­tented for Papistrie, to rayse or fauour rebellion in our Countrie: to ioyne in conspiracie with Straungers, to helpe to inuade and spoyle our Countrie: to conuey the Crowne of our Country to a forreiner: to agrée with them in faction, that offer our Countrie to prey, spoyle and con­quest: to submitte his faith to that Potentate, that hath accurssed and giuen our Countrie, their soules to the De­uill, [Page 44] and their bodies, landes and possessions to them that can catch them: to beléeue or fauour them, that spreade all vile dishonours against our Countrie: to lyke well of his dooings, and to holde that he dooth no more then he lawful­ly may doo, which being an Alien, a forreine Bishop, shall take vppon him to extend his curse to the Prince of our Countrie, and all the people thereof, and that he hath po­wer to discharge the Subiectes of the Realme from their faith and alleageaunce, and hath authoritie to binde their obedience to whome he will, and is able to giue Heauen to rebelles, that shall venter their liues in wasting and Such an one as alloweth of all these wicked cau­ses, must needes be a traytour to his Countrie. destroying our Countrie: He, I saye, that can yéelde his consent to these dooinges and thinkinges, must néedes be a Traitour to his Countrie. And such a one is euerie such English Papist as I haue described, and can be none other if he holde the Pope for a true teacher, and haue good opini­on of the Popes doctrine and examples.

That clemencie and gentlenesse cannot reclayme them from trayterous mindes, while they continue in Pa­pistrie, Clemencie can­not win a Papist whyle he conti­nueth a Papist: speciall examples for England to remember. is as plaine and as true a fourme of spéeche: as if a man should saye, they must néedes be traytours, so long as they remaine full of treason, for treason and Papistrie are vnseperable whyle they be kept vnder, euen as cruel­tie and Papistrie are vnseperable when they are gotten aboue. Surelie, he that regardeth not the highest duetie, will neuer regard the meanest. The duetie of the loue or feare of God, cannot holde a Papist from blasphemie against God. The duetie of faith and alleageaunce to his Prince, cannot kéepe a Papist from treason to his Prince. The duetie of déere loue to his naturall Coun­trie, cannot withdrawe a Papist from assenting to, yea, and procuring the spoyle, destruction, bondage, and alie­nation of his Countrie, as I haue already prooued. The duetie of kinde and naturall pittie, cannot staye a Papist from murdering the féeble sexe, nor the sielie tender infan­cie, nor reuerend eldest age. The duetie of familiaritie in youth, of fréendshippe in grauer yéeres, of continuall [Page] societie during all the life passed, with heapes of mutuall commodities, cannot pull backe a Papist from immanitie of Sacrificing his déerest fréendes. The duetie of ho­nour of Children to Parentes, or loue of Parentes to Children, remooueth not a Papist from vnnaturall cru­eltie. The duetie of intire loue and fellowshippe be­twéene man and wife, holdeth no place in the heart of a Papist. No duetie of kindred, no estimation of Lear­ning and Uertue, no good respect, that mooueth good men to loue and compassion, once toucheth a stubborne Papist.

All these dueties we haue séene broken, yea, neglected All dueties of loue, kindred and nature bro­ken by Papistes. and throwne awaie by Papistes. And is there hope that clemencie can so farre winne them, as to holde them in trueth to the Prince, from whome they receyue it: if oportunitie serue to bring them out of her daunger, or her Highnesse into their daunger, which God forbidde? But let vs sée a little of their thankefulnesse. Did euer those Papistes, whose liues were saued by good Bishop Cran­mers Example of the Papistes thanke­fulnes to Bishop Cranmer. meanes, who were brought vp, who were defen­ded, who were auaunced, who were shielded from harme and perill by him: once requite him with one droppe of kindnesse? And yet they spake him fayre in his prospe­ritie. Auailed the great liberalitie of King Henrie the eight, to rayse vp any kinde remembraunce in Papistes, that were great in Quéene Maries dayes: to staye them Example of the Papistes kindnes toward her Ma­iestie, for the great lyberalitie of her most noble Father. from the assenting to the captiuitie and daunger, and sée­king the blood of his most noble Daughter, our most gra­tious Soueraigne Lady? And yet during King Henries raigne, they shewed a seruiceable face: as if they would haue spent their bloods, to kéepe wrong from him and his, and did serue against Papistrie it selfe, till their treason and Papistrie was ripe to be aduaunced. A number lyke examples of their gentlenesse and kindnesse might be al­leadged, but because I would be bréefe, these fewe shall serue at this time.

[Page 45] Of like trueth it is, that Papistrie being an Heresie, or rather a bondle made vp of an infinite number of Here­sies: must néedes haue the propertie of Heresie, to flou­rishe Papistrie increa­seth and flouri­sheth by lenitie. with indulgence and lenitie. We sée the lyke ex­ample in the sect of Arrians, which vnder hereticall Em­perours excéedinglie increased: and being once condem­ned and restrained by punishment, hath worne away to a fewe. So farre as King Henrie the eight went in refor­ming Religion, which was to abolishe the primacie of Rome out of this Realme (a noble conquest) with certaine grosse Idolatries: did not the seueritie of his Lawes, the awe of his person, and the dread of due execution, so holde downe those partes of Papistrie which he suppressed, that they durst not once shewe themselues in his dayes? And yet in the same time, the gréeuous lawe of sixe Articles made against Gods trueth, and sinisterlie procured by the Popish Clergie, nor yet the earnest inquirie, nor cruell executing of it by Bishoppes and other, could holde downe the trueth of the Gospell: but that it brake out more and more vpon them.

The reason is, that Papistry and Christian trueth haue Christian trueth respecteth Hea­uen, and Papistry the world. two seuerall endes: trueth respecteth Heauen, and Papi­strie the world. Whereby their aduentures and enter­prises are commonlie diuers: the Papist dare boldlie set vpon any mischéefe, where he hath hope to auaunce his falsehood: the Christian dare constauntlie abide any tor­ment, to giue witnesse of Gods trueth. And such qualitie of Gods trueth haue the auncient Fathers described, when one of them calleth the blood of Martyres: The water to water Gods Garden, an other sayth: That they encrease with cutting downe, and other in other manner haue ex­pressed the same meaning.

But now being vnder a Christian Prince in dayes of rest (blessed be almightie God, and long preserued be her Maiestie the instrument of it) as it is not méete that Gods Church, after Iulian the Apostataes manner, be persecuted [Page] to make it increase, but holden downe with good disci­pline for manners, that it growe not wilde and runne into wantonnesse: so is not the Church of the Deuill to be maintained and multiplied with indulgence, winking and slacknesse of correction, but with good seueritie to be restrained, that it growe not to such ranknesse, as to choke the true Church in déede. Mercie may haue her excesse, Too much cle­mencie may be great crueltie. and clemencie may be great crueltie, when it ouerfloweth to the good mens daunger.

The other Conclusions that followe, haue great diffe­rence from these whereof I haue made some explication, yet haue I not made so large an explication, as trueth is well and easilie able to furnishe, neither can I so well make it, as the expedience of the cause asketh, to giue the vauntage of eloquence to the goodnesse of the matter, to helpe to drawe it into credite, and effect of well moouing. But being as it is, rude and true, great cunning and finenesse is the lesse néedefull: where those (for whome it is intended) are so wise, as it is farre more easie for naked troth to enforme them, then for any gaie spéeche to leads them.

As for the other Conclusions that followe: I neither haue nor will wade so farre in them, because they are mat­ters of consultation and meditation. The effect thereof, which is the safe preseruation of the Quéenes royall Ma­iestie and the Realme, the auoiding of daungers that threaten the same, the establishing of assurednesse, bold­nesse, courage, and fréedome of her Highnesse most good Councellours and Subiectes, the taking auauntage of o­portunitie and occasions, the wéeding out of deceiuers and vnderminers, the defence of her Maiesties honour and dignity, the meanes to aunswer their charge toward God, and namelie, in dealing with men as they be affectioned to or against God.

The effect I saye of these other Conclusions, I knowe doo continuallie busie her Maiestie and her most honou­rable [Page 46] Counsailours, in thinking on them, and prouiding for them: therefore it shall no furder occupie me and other meane Subiectes, then in prayer and readinesse to serue, as her Maiestie and her Councell shall sée fitte to imploy vs. It shall suffise me, and so ought it to content all other, to knowe as we doo knowe, what a wise Prince we haue, what good Councell she hath chosen, how well they haue gouerned, what fruite we haue had of it: so as no­thing is left to vs, but to giue thankes, to be­ware that our sinnes giue not the occasion of losse and chaunge, to serue dueti­fullie, and to pray deuoutlie.

The Conclusion.

THus haue I England bréefelie collected such matters héere together, as if thou héedfullie marke, thou mayst make great profite of them. And in trueth great néede thou hast to be carefull of them, for Papistes were neuer bolder, nor treason put more in practise, then it hath béene of late dayes.

Remember that cruell murder in Fraunce at the mari­age, when the famous Admirall Shatilion, was so vnna­turallie murdered. Remember the late and horrible murder of the noble Prince of Orange: and let these teach thée to be more circumspecte to that daungerous broode.

I could wade into furder matters, as to tell thée of ma­ny other crimes and offences, which thou hast meruai­lous [Page] néede to looke vnto: but because I entended this pre­sent purpose in this Watchwoord, I referre the rest to my other Booke called the Court of Conscience, which A Booke called the Court of Conscience, which I entend (God aiding me) to publish verie shortly. thou shalt shortlie receyue from me. And I dare awar­rant thée, that thou neuer readst not such a Booke in all thy life, both for the circumstances of the matter, and the woor­thinesse of the whole in generall: but tyll it come, that thou thy selfe mayst iudge of it, I will bréefelie desire thée to ioyne in prayer with me, for the good successe of all hap­pinesse, that may please God to send thée.

Let vs praye, that we may sée when those that shall wrest or procure to chaunge Lawe, to erect the courage of any daungerous Uiper to such endes, or to any aspi­ring hope of preuenting and vndermining, vnder what couller, name, pretence, or otherwise, or to the safegarde of their persons that haue so attempted: that they maye be declared, and executed as enimies to the state, and to the Quéenes safetie.

Let vs praye, that we may sée such Lawes prouided for her Highnesse preseruation, and the same so executed God graunt that such Papistes as be enimies to her Maiestie and the Realme, may be quickly cutte off. without restraint or slackenesse for any respect: as the hope of Papistes, such as be enimies to God, the Quéene and the Realme, may (if they repent not) be cutte off for euer.

Let vs praye to liue to sée, that none may haue place, Office, or accesse into her Maiesties Court nor household, no, nor once into her presence: that shall not be knowne to fauour both God and her, so farre as any circumspection or policie can prouide it.

Let vs praye, that no Office of dignitie, Lawe or Iu­stice, may be in their handes, who doo not fauour the Lawe of God, and acknowledge her Maiesties right, that is head of Lawe and Iustice in this Realme.

Let vs praye, that her Maiestie and her Councell may haue such particular knowledge of men, that those that haue well deserued, yea, haue and yet doo hazard their [Page 47] liues in her Maiesties defence, and haue vtterlie wasted themselues and their fréendes in her Maiesties seruice, yet remaining vnrecompenced: that they maye not loose the benefite of their labours, that no euill tongue maye raise slaunder to their discredite, but that they maye ac­cording to their good seruice, be effectuallie and duelie re­warded, the onelie meane to encourage other to earnest taking of paines.

Let vs praye, that all such as be her Maiesties eni­mies may be weakened, and her faithfull fréendes and well-willers strengthened: that all auauntages may be vsed for her safetie, and all subtill deuises and practises may be supplanted.

We trust it will be so, for God hath not drawne these late mischéefes into lyght for nothing. But before all thinges, let vs praye to GOD to sende vs true repen­taunce, more ioyfull and effectuall receyuing of his Gos­pell, and more and more vertuous ensuing it: least as we lost our best King with liuing yll, wee loose our best Quéene with liuing wurse.

And that therewith it may please him, to direct all the dooinges of her Maiestie and her Councell, to procéede in their good aduauncing his glorie, and preseruation of the estate: which without ielous circumspection, for preser­uing the Quéenes most royall personne, can not be doone. And that such good meanes and prouisions, as GOD of­fereth to that ende, be not refused or neglected: which were to tempt GOD, to forsake his cause, to betraie our noble Prince, and to giue away, or rather cast away the Realme.

These be the daylie and nightlie prayers of good Sub­iectes, and while we busie our selues with these prayers, we doo, after our principall confidence in Gods goodnesse, rest our selues vppon the trust of her Maiestie, and her most honourable Councell: for whome we prayse God, and to them we referre the guiding of vs and ours, readie [Page] to followe them when we are commaunded, with the vt­termost of our power and perill, knowing how they spare not their vttermost endeuour and perill, with susteining the most vnpleasaunt life (God knowes) that may be, for our sakes, for our quiet, profits and defence.