THIS is the time that everie Creature hath his dull sen­ce [...] wrapt in silent sleep: the hardie labourer that toils all day, and wearies his irksome members with in­cessant labours this houre has a free dispensation from his paines, and easeth his wearied body with soundest sleep. The covetous and priping Vsurer that is not capable of the least intermission, but esteems each mi­nute an age, wherein he doth not imploy his working braine, labours with subtile inventions to augment the massie stock of his ill-got and un­necessarie treasure, at this minute enioyes his naturall rest. The craftie Politician, whose restlesse perecranion is continually full of divers im­perfect and indigested crockets, quaint devices, and State proiects, this mid-night hour Morpheus hath dandled his over wearied sences into sound and sencelesse sleep, all creatures are husht into quiet rest: There is no noyse at all stirring in Citie or Countrie, not so much as the barking of dogges, or howling of wolves, yet I am so haunted with idle fancies and imaginarie conceits, that sleep these eight dayes hath beene to mee a meere stranger. One night I see many religious Ministers (whom for too much sedulitie and diligence in the execution of their ministeriall [Page 3]functions, and for their obstinacy to innovations, and their industrious care of the soules committed to their charge, I have not onely deprived them of their Benefices, sequestred their estates, and thereby utterly undone them, their poore wives and children, but made them uncapable of any Priestly function here in their Native Countrie; and they were thereby enforced to seek their livelybood in remote and forraigne places, though they were ancient, or by any other way unable to undergoe Travaile, offering the incense of their prayers against me: another night me thinks I see my dire oppressions, presented in a hellish Maske, each act that I have done is laid before me in my sleep; among which I finde few good ones; yet why should I be transported with feare, for shadowes they have no substance and are caused by dull and melanchely fancies: a faint-hearted souldier that can slay, and then be touched with remorse of con­science for what he has done: Why should I be afraid to behold the appa­ritions of those things which I before delighted to enact? Avant then idle feare, seek thy abode in others breasts, I will not harbour thee in mine, and yet I must: Blesse me my better Genius! what doe I see! the formidable figure of a quartered man: my Resolution now playes the unconstant woman; my whole body is a perpetuall palsie, my sen­ces never were benumb'd till now, my rationall part of man begin to forsake my drooping soule; Courage, I never found defect of thee till now. Let me have strength enough to speake unto this ayrie substance. What art thou that at this dead houre of the night, assailst my quiet chamber? speake what is thy businesse.

Why my Lord, is your grace sencelesse? know you not me? I am Drum-Maior Bensteed, that with my gallant Myrmidons come thus in Armes the second time. Why doe you stand so like a Statue? Doe you trust to the iustice of your cause? Why doe not you take your Barge and waft your Grace to White-hall; there's the Sanctuarie you once fled to for aid.

Tis needlesse, I am safer here, and in a stronger house: and for that Bensteed thou namest, he is secure enough; I fixt his head on Lon­don bridge, there he keeps watch; the Scots cannot come in, but he must descrie them.

O my Lord, but Bensteed has a fellow watchman that does now supply my place, one of your Graces friends now beares mee company: this is his first night: he's a verie learned grave man: your Grace I am confident knowes him.

What was his name, and for what offence does he beare thee companie?

A Iesuite, my Lord, his name is Ward, Walker, Waller, Slater, or any of them.

A Iesuite? and so many names? I wonder that I never heard of him. O how negligent were my High Commission Officers, that could not hunt out that piece of Superstition?

I protest my Lord, your Grace dissembles admirably: as if a Iesuite could not live in peace for your Officers: alas, my Lord, they were better imployed, in seeking out men that repeated Sermons toge­ther, and could have better Compositions of them than of Iesuites, they were rather priviledged than punished.

But speak if thou be that Bensteed, what is thy businesse here? wherefore dost thou thus haunt me in this fearefull shape?

My Lord, I come to know wherefore I was made such an example, and to dispute the cause, I was so uniustly put to death?

Because thou wast found guiltie of Treason, and therefore according to the Lawes of England, ought to bee hang'd, drawne, and quartered.

Oh my Lord; the Lawes of England never made Riots Trea­son: and I had no hand my Lord in breaking open the White Lion prison: the greatest matter I did my Lord was, I attempted to break open your fortified Gates with a Broom stick, which was a thing altogether impos­sible; which had I done my Lord, it had beene at the worst but Fellonie or Burglarie, and not Treason, but I was poore, and one fit to suffer; I had no gratuities to bestow on your Grace, I had no Buts of Sack for your Cellar, nor Beaver hat, perfumed Gloves, or plush Cloak for your Gentlemen: If I had as good store of Peeces my Lord, to have pre­sented Petitions to your Grace withall, I might then perchance have had them subscribed with a We referre this Petition, with a private note in the Margent; but wanting these, I ought to dye, though for no o­ther crime.

Why simple fellow, dost thou know what belongeth to the English Lawes better than those grave Iudges who sate on the Bench at thy tryall, that thou makest these bold distinctions? and dost thou chal­lenge them of iniustice? they had a hand in the businesse as well as myself.

I dare not taxe the Iudges, let those that have sued in for­ma pauper is do that; sor it may be your politick Lordship informed them more than what was truth, or it may be they took your Grace rather for a Pope than a subiect, and so it became Treason; but if otherwise, let them be assured my cause will have a revenge: And for your selfe, who all the Kingdome knowes is guiltie of this, and many more greater Offences, [Page 5]rest confident that my recompence will not bee verie easie.

But good Mr. Bensteeds Ghost, let me know the cause, why you accompanied with your fellow Rebells, sought my life more than a­ny mans else? I am utterly ignorant of any crime whereof I was guil­tie to incense any man against me.

So you are ignorant of sowing discord between the Scots and us: How many truely affected subiects lost their lives, more precious than your owne in that skirmish? and how many should have lost their lives, had your proiects taken their full effect? Moreover I believe you are ignorant, that when a Parliament was begun, and every poore man that had beene uniustly wrong'd, might without the giving of gratuities have had his iniuries righted, who was the chiefe cause of its dissoluti­on? all this you are pleased to forget, but assure your selfe it will bee re­membred. You have forgot too I believe bestowing Benefices on non Residents, that would preach once a moneth, and keep Curats who would read long service, tickle them up with Homilies, and alwayes conclude within the time, and never preach in the afternoone, but spend that time in mirth and good fellowship amongst their neighbours, in the Ale-house, or at Bowles, according to your book which tollerated Sun­dayes Pastimes. Nor you doe not remember, that you would have had the Kingdome governed by the Civill Law onely: then your High Com­mission would have beene high enough indeed, so high as it is low now. You have forgot also the threatnings you bestowed upon the Iudges that opposed the Ship-money. You have forgot too the sounding of the new Canons, and the ex Officio Oath &c. You have forgot that you endea­voured to pull downe the French Church, which was erected for the French Protestants that fled hither for succour: had they been Papists, their Church might have stood long enough without your contradiction.

O gentle soule, I believe thou knowest all my faults, which are farre more than those thou hast put me in mind of: Let me intreat thée therefore, to leave me, that I may repaire to my devotion, and crave pardon from heaven for these and all the rest of my misdoings, and study to give the wronged world what satisfaction possible I may: wrack not my wounded conscience with the remembrance of my horrid acts; if any pittie harbour within thee (wronged Spirit) let me be its obiect: I crave for pittie that before had none.

O my little good Lord, had you been composed of mercy and iustice, you would have mingled one with the other, and not let iustice take place, becomming so severe and cruell to prosecute the Law against me, as to send for the Iudges, and to compell them by menacing words at your house, to make it treason, when neither Act nor President could bee [Page 6]found for the like; you might have censured me to have lost my eares, or have branded me in the forehead and cheeks, and so have banished me: but to take my life, and thus to mangle me, and let my blood be spilt upon the thirsty ground, which was as thirsty as your obdurate heart: but look which way you please, goe which way you can, I am still in your sight, hers an arme and a leg Westward, there an arme and a leg Eastward; this is inhumanity, and especially from you, and one of your Coat and fun­ction: the Law it selfe hath provided mercy for some relinquents; and you to have no compassion, which should plead for mercie! But it is noted, you never spared any, but prosecuted them to the heighth of your malice as you have done me poore man.

I confesse, it was my onely act, & by my instigation; but I would thou hadst been executed in any other place, than at that which is my way to my Countrie Pallace at Croydon.

But why was I quartered, and thus in peece-meale set up at each gate, for birds and other ravenous soules to be made a prey unto, and to endure now a pluck, and th [...] a tug from the hunglie Crowes as they flie

[Page 7]over me, to make me still crie out, O cruell Canterburie, remember I was a Christian, and so dyed a penitent Christian. Was my fact so haynous that nothing could pacifie your rage, that when my life was expired, my torne and slaughtered carkasse must be hung between heaven and earth, as not worthy of either: I spilt no blood in the mutinie, (as I have said) but I have read that Church-men, and women, are still most bloody minded, as the Martyrs are monuments of the crueltie of bloody Bonner, & malicious Gardner; and now you cruell Laud and spightfull Wren, to each of you, and those Iudges of the Law which iudged me, I have given my quarters for a memoriall.

Enough, all is true thou hast said concerning them; but for thy par­ticular, I was informed that thou wert a Prentise of London, and sent with divers others by your Masters to pull downe my Pallace, because I confesse, I was ever an enemie to the Citizens and Citie for divers reasons, and therefore did command this iustice to be done, for others to take example by.

Alas, I was a young man, and but nineteen yeares of age, and not of ripe years, but as full of sorrow for your crueltie; for had you suffered my body to have been buried, I might have been forgotten in a short space, but to set my dismembred ioynts upon the gates of this stately Citie for every one to gaze on, savourd not of that Christianitie which you seem'd to professe, unlesse it were of that superstitious Religion, that practises onely blood, and builds them Altars with the bones of Martyrs.

O speake no more, thou hast penetrated my proud heart, and mollified my seared consci­ence: what would I not give to redeeme thy life, if it were possible?

Your wishes come to late; but let me thus advise you, procure by some meanes, that my parched limbs may be taken downe, that those friends, kindred, and countrie men, nay my poore father, and mother, may not forsake their concourse to London about their livelihood, and trade; for sometimes I am forgotten by them, when other matters of greater consequence is in their heads: but when they come neare London bridge, then is their griefe renew­ed with anxietie of mind, ready to strike them dead when they see my head, as if I were set up on purpose to crosse and perplexe them, or to examine their private businesses, or wherefore they come, this is a double suffering; nay my Lord, be not much affrighted, nor doe not shake and shiver too much: let not your Gentlemen which lie here at your beds feet in a Trundle bed bee di­sturbed by your passion: but let me now admonish and tell you, that you must labour and study with all your might, as ever you did to raise yourselfe to be a Bishop, to repent for your sins, and not onely so, but labour to give satis­faction for the wrong you have done to severall men: I could give you a cata­logue of those mens names which you have highly iniured: but I wil forbear, because I know you cannot forget them, especially having so good a memo­rie, & now no State affaires to trouble your Grace withall: and so farewell, [Page 8]referring you not to an High Commissioner, but to your owne selfe, which if you doe really performe, you shall upon your submission be silent as a dead Duck, or an innocent Lamb.

Prethee leave me.

Well, Ile leave thee, and yet still be with thee; for assure thy selfe, that when thou dost appeare before the Parliament, I will be also there, and be a torment, not a comfort, to thy afflicted conscience: with the eyes of thy imagination thou shalt behold my sever'd limbs, and then

WHO art thou, that dares come up without my consent, and stand thus cheek by iole with me?

my name is Slater, Ward, Waller, and Walker, a Iesuite I was by my profession, and have taken Orders in that Societie these 35. yeares and upwards, for which I was condemned, and am now come to be thy fellow watch-man, to overlook all.

And why so many names didst thou beare?

The better to conceale my selfe, and all my plots and intentions.

Thou hast now as many quarters as before thou hadst names: but what plots hadst thou in thy head, when it was on thy shoulders?

I may now reveale them which are past, because I can invent no more: and the rather because I had a pardon from the Pope before I was executed: we had many agents about the late plot which was intended against the Ci­tie of London, and the Tower, & those no mean ones: for had our plots tooks effect, I had been advanced to a more eminent place with my head on my shoulders, than now I am without it, had I been wife, and not too confident of my selfe and my disguise, I might have fled, and bin as safe as the rest of the Conspirators.

I perceive your fact was more hainous than mine, and therfore may iustly claim place here better than I.

Not better Mr. Bensteed, for you are the ancientest stander of the two, and therefore may claime preheminence.

Your conspiracie was against the state of our whole Kingdom, to ruine that: mine was onely against a particular man, the Bishop of Canterburie, a Subiect; yours of a higher consequence, and for which you suffer iustly.

That's true; but had he that power still as he had when thou wert condemned, I should not have thus suffered. But I am wearie with my late iourney, and have got a scu [...]fing in my head, so that I am now ill at ease to relate the rest of my plots at this time; which I will forbeare till our next nights conference.