[Page] [Page] The manner of the death and ex­ecution of Arnold Cosbie, for murthe­ring the Lord Boorke, who was executed at VVanswoorth townes end on the 27. of Ianuarie 1591.

With certaine verses written by the said Cosby in the time of his imprisonment, containing mat­ter of great effect, as well touching his life as also his penitencie before his death.

Imprinted for VVilliam VVright.

1591.

The manner of the death and execution of Arnold Cosbie, for murthering the Lord Bourke.

IMediatly after that Arnold Cosbie had receaued iudgement, as you haue before heard, he had his hands fast bound, and by the knight Mar­shals men was committed vnto the Marshalsey, where he had learned preachers came and conferred with him, shewing him that this life was but fraile and transitorie, and in no sort comparable vnto the life to come, for therein consisted all ioye, pleasure, rest, so­lace, and continuall comfort and that he might be as­sured to dwell and liue for euer among the Angels of of God, if so by repentaunce of his former sinnes he would nowe call vpon God, and stedfastly beléeue that by faith in Christ Iesus, he shoulde haue free re­mission of all his sinnes which from time to time hee had committed. By meanes of which godly confe­rences, the said Arnold Cosby called to minde the state wherein he had before liued, and in what estate hee now stoode, and therewithall comparing the one with the other, &c. séeing his sodaine downefall through [...]is pride and folly before committed, he burst foorth into bitter teares and grieuously lamented both his follie and his fall, wishing that he had neuer béene borne to performe an act so detestable, whereby he had lost the fauour of his prince, and good will of hir people, not being able to make satisfaction for the least droppe of bloud which he had wilfully wished, neither coulde he euer be pardoned of the hainous sinne which he there­by committed, but onely by the mercie of God which [Page] was ready (as he alleaged) to rfreshe all penitent sin­ners that sorrowed for their offences euen from the bottome of their hearts. Thus meditating vpon the New Testament, and hauing continuall conference with these that came to comfort him, he sometime red and sometime wrote such things as might best con­tent his wofull mind: vntill Wednesday about nine of the clocke in the morning, at which time he was conueyed from the Marshalsey in a cart vnto Wans­worth townes ende, where vppon a high hill a gibbet was set vp, and being brought thither by the knight Marshals man he was taken from the cart, and pla­ced at the foot of the said hill, where at his comming he found the Earle of Ormond, with manie knightes, captaines and Gentlemen, who came to see him suffer death, where he found at his comming Doctor Flet­cher Lorde Bishop of Bristow and Almoner vnto hir maiestie, to comfort him against the feare of death, who perswaded him to defie murther and to acknow­ledge his offence: which he did openly confesse before all the people, and shewed him selfe sorie for the same, asking forgiuenesse both of God and the worlde, and therewithall desired hir maiestie to forgiue and for­get his offence, so as it might be hereafter no blot or blemish to his kindred or allies. Then after praiers which the prisoner séemed to poure foorth from a pe­nitent heart, confessing that he had before committed sundry hainous offences, stil calling vpon God to for­giue him euen to the last gaspe, he was turnd off from the ladder and there hanged till he was dead, and nowe remaineth in the placed hanged vp in chaines, according to his former iudgement.

ARNOLD COSBIES vltimum vale to the vaine world.
❧An Elegie written by himselfe in the Marshalsea after his con­demnation.

BReake heart, be mute my sorrowes past compare,
Cosbie complaine no more, but sit and die,
Teares are no tokens of such dreriment,
As thy true griefe poures to the angrie heauens,
The heauens offended with thy foule misdeeds,
O great Commander of this glorious round,
The workmanship of thine immortall hand,
Thou that doest ride vpon the Cherubins,
And tunest the deepes in dreadfull harmonie,
Cast downe thine eie vpon a wretched soule,
And from thy throne of grace great Iacobs God
Raine mercie on me, miserable man,
Falne into snares of sinne and shamefull death,
From thee sweete Sauiour, Sauiour of the world.
O world, vaine world, vnconstant, & vnkind,
Why hast thou bred me, nurst me, brought me vp,
To see this daie of sorrow and of shame:
Cosbie complaine. Captaines and men of warre,
With whom I whilome spent my carlesse daies,
Daies dated but to this, to end in shame,
[Page] Farewell, adieu to you and all the rest
That followe armes: and armes and life adieu,
From armes and life I passe drencht in the pit
Digde by my desperate hands hands full of bloud.
Bleed heart to thinke what these accursed hands
Haue perpetrated, Pardon heauen and earth,
And gentle Lord misled by my amis,
Fouly by me sent to thy longest home,
O pardon Cosbies cruell minde,
His minde enraged, and gentle bloud by wrath
And furie tainted and empoisoned.
VVhy do I kill my doefull dying heart,
VVith sad rehearsall of this heauie chance.
O death rocke me asleepe, Father of heauen
That hast sole power to pardon sinnes of men,
Forgiue the faults and folly of my youth,
My youth misspent in wast and wantonnes,
And for sweete Iesus sake forgiue my soule,
Fouly defild with this aboue the rest,
This wickednes, this hard vnworthie deed.
And lastly you whose fame I haue defild,
My kin, my Countrie men, friends and alies,
Pardon, ô pardon, such as men to men
Can giue, I beg for wronging you in all,
For shaming you in this my wretched end,
The fruitles crop, the meed of my deserts
[Page] My bad, my base desertes, sweete Friends forget,
Frends, countrie men, and kinsfolkes all forget,
My name, my face, my fact, ô blot me out,
Out of the world, put me out of your thoughts,
Or if you thinke, o thinke I neuer was,
Or if you thinke I was, thinke that I fell,
Before some forte, some holde in Belgia,
VVith this suppose beguile your sorrowes friends,
Thinke that I fell before the Canons mouth,
Euen in mine honors heigth that blessed day,
VVhen in aduancement of my name, I left
My countries enemie in his base reuolt:
A wretched man to talke of honors heigth,
Fallen so basely into the pit of shame,
The pit of death: my God, my God forgiue me,
Next to my God, my countrie pardon me,
VVhose honor I haue stained and lawes infringe
And thou my soueraigne Mistris and my Queene,
Bright starre of Englandes globe, forgiue my fact,
Nor let it touch thy Royall Princely hart,
That Cosbie hath misdone so hainously.
The circle of my time is compassed,
Arriued to the point where it began.
Worlde, countrie, kin, and friends farewell farewell,
Flie thou my soule to heauen the hauen of blisse,
O bodie beare the scourge of thine amisse.

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