The five years of King Iames, or, The condition of the state of England, and the relation it had to other provinces. Written by Sr Foulk Grevill, late Lord Brook. Five years of King James. 1643 Approx. 168 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 46 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A67903 Wing W2887 ESTC R12332 99859261 99859261 111332

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A67903) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 111332) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 18:E101[14]) The five years of King Iames, or, The condition of the state of England, and the relation it had to other provinces. Written by Sr Foulk Grevill, late Lord Brook. Five years of King James. Greville, Fulke, Baron Brooke, 1554-1628. Wilson, Arthur, 1595-1652, attributed name. [2], 84 p. Printed for W. R., London : in the yeare 1643. The attribution, on the title page, to Lord Brooke is erroneous. The work was probably that of some partisan Presbyterian. It has been attributed to Arthur Wilson.--cf. Clark Memorial Lib. Dict. Cat. Appeared, with additions in "The narrative history of King James for the first fourteen years", London, 1651. Annotation on Thomason copy: "May. 10th". Reproduction of the original in the British Library.

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eng James -- I, -- King of England, 1566-1625 -- Early works to 1800. Somerset, Frances Howard Carr, -- Countess of, 1593-1632 -- Early works to 1800. Great Britain -- History -- James I, 1603-1625 -- Early works to 1800. 2000-00 Assigned for keying and markup 2001-12 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-01 Sampled and proofread 2002-01 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

THE FIVE YEARES OF KING IAMES, OR, The Condition of the State of England, and the Relation it had to other PROVINCES.

Written by Sr FOULK GREVILL, late Lord Brook.

LONDON, Printed for W. R. in the yeare, 1643.

The five yeares of King Iames, or the Condition of the State of ENGLAND, and the Relation it had to other Provinces.

HOwsoever every Kingdome and Common-wealth may be both well and uprightly governed, and that good men may be the meanes to support it; yet there can be no such Common-wealth, but amongst the good, there will be even some evill persons: these, (whether by nature induced, or through envie and ambition, to the intent to satisfie their appetites, perswaded) doe oftentimes enter into actions repugnant unto the felicity of good Government and Common-wealths, and by evill causers and perverse deeds, doe secretly and underhand, seeke to hasten and set forward the ruine and decay of the same: These things, because they happen contrary, and beyond expectation are so much the more remarkable by how much they are suddaine, and unexpected. And from hence it cometh, that no state of government can be said to be permanent, but that oftentimes those are said to be good, are by little and little converted unto those that be evill, and oftentimes changed from worse to worse, till they come to utter desolation.

Neither is this alone proper to our Common-wealth, but to all, nor to forraigne Kingdomes, but to our owne: for although His Majesty at His coming to the Crowne found us vexed with many defensive warres, as that in Ireland, that in the Low-countries, and almost publique against Spaine, auxiliarie in France, and continually in millitarie imployments, although he found it lacerate, and torne, with divers factions of Protestants, Papists, and others, from amongst whom, sprung some evill men, that endeavoured to set into combustion the whole State, yet neverthelesse he established a peace, both honourable and profitable, with all neighbour Princes, and by relation through all Europe; so that neither our friends, nor our enemies might be either feared or suspected.

After this generall peace was concluded, and the working heads of divers dangerous Papists were confin'd to a certaine course of life, that is, peace; they now petition for olleration, for releases of vexation, to have liberty of conscience, and forsooth, because they cannot have these things amongst them, they contrive a most horrible and devillish plot by gun-powder to blow up the Parliament, even the whole State and command of this Kingdome, and so at one puffe, to conclude all this peace, and by that meanes to procure an unruly and unseemly avarice of this setled government; and this not so much to establish their owne Religion, (for which purpose they pretended it) but to establish their owne power and preheminence, and to raise some private Families to greatnesse and dignitie, that so faction being nourished, and that jurisdiction established, they might with great facility suppresse whom they please, and support their owne State. Thus may wee see that setled governments doe cherish in themselves their owne destructions, and their own subjects are oftentimes cause of their owne ruine, unlesse God of his mercy prevent it.

Of the domestick affaires, and of the lascivious course of such on whom the King had bestowed the honour of Knighthood.

THis evill being discovered by the Lord Mounteagle, and overpassed, divers discontents happened, some betweene the Civilians and Common Lawyers concerning Prohibitions; And for that there was one Doctor Cowell stood stifly against the Lord Cooke, divers discontents were nourished betweene the Gentry and Commonaltie concerning Inclosure, and it grew out into a petty Rebellion, which by the same was conjectured, not to happen so much for the thing it selfe, as for to find how the people stood affected to the present State, whereby divers private quarrells, and secret combustions were dayly breaking out, private families, one sided against another; and of these, Protestants against Papists, they thereby endavouring to get a head, and from small beginnings to raise greater Rebellions and discontents, shewed themselves heady, and speakes publickly, what durst not heretofore have beene spoken in corners; in outward appearance Papists were favoured, Masses almost publickly administred, Protestants discountenanced, dishonest men honoured, those that were little lesse then Sorcerers, and Witches preferred, private quarrells nourished, but especially betweene the Scottish and the English Duells in every secret maintained, divers, sects of vitious persons of particular Titles passe unpunished or unregarded, as the sect of Roaring-boyes, Boneventors, Bravadors, Guarterers, and such like, being persons prodigall, and of great expence, who having run themselves in debt, were constrained to run into faction to defend them from danger of the Law; these received maintenance from divers of the Nobility, and not a little as was suspected from the Earle of Northampton; which persons, though of themselves they were not able to attempt any enterprize, yet faith, honesty, and other good Arts being now little set by, and Citizens through lasciviousnesse consuming their estates, it was likely their number would rather increase then diminish. And under these pretences, they entered into many desperate enterprises, and scarce any durst walke the streets with safety after nine at night. So to conclude in outward shew there appeared no certaine affection, no certaine obedience, no certaine government amongst us.

Such persons on whom the King had bestowed particular honours, either through pride of that, or their owne prodigality, lived at high rates, and with their greatnesse brought in excesse of riot, both in clothes and dyet. So our ancient customes were abandoned, and that strictnesse and severity that had wont to be amongst us, the English scorned and contemned, every one applauding strange or new things, though never so costly, and for the attaining o them neither sparing purse nor credit, that prices of all sorts of commodities are raysed, and those ancient Gentlemen, who had left their Inheritance whole, and well furnished with goods and chattells, (having thereof kept good houses unto their sonnes, lived to see part consumed in ryot and excesse, and the rest in possibilitie to be utterly lost: The holy estate of Matrimony most perfidiously broken, and amongst many made but a may-game, by which meanes divers private families hath beene subverted, brothell-houses in abundance tollerated, and even great persons prostituting their bodies, to the intent to satisfie their appetites, and consume their substance, repairing to the City, and to the intent to consume their virtues also, lived dissolure lives. And many of their Ladies and Daughters, to the intent to maintaine themselves according to their dignities, prostitute their bodies in shamefull manner; ale-houses, dy ing-houses, taverns, and places of vice, and iniquity beyond measure abounding in many places, there being as much extortion for sinne, as there is racking for Rents; and as many wayes to spend money as are windings and turnings in townes and streets, so that to outward appearance, the evill seeme to over top the good, and evill intentions and councells rather prospered, then those that were profitable to the Common-wealth.

Of my Lord of Northamptons coming to honour, the cause of the division betweene the Hollanders and the English, betweene the Scottish and English, betweene the English and Irish

NOw Henry Howard, yongest sonne of the Duke of Norfolke, continuing a Papist from his infancy unto this time, beginning to grow eminent, and being made famous heretofore for his learning, having beene rained and brought up a long time in Cambridge, by the perswasion of the King, changeth his opinion of Religion in outward appearance, and to the intent to reape unto himselfe more honour became a Protestant, for which cause, he was created Earle of Northampton, and had the Kings favours bountifully bestowed upon him; first, the office of Privie-seale, then the Wardenship of Cinque Ports, and lastly the refusall of being Treasurer: This man was of a subtile and fine wit, of a good proportion, excellent in outward courtship, famous for secret insinuation, and for cunning flatteries, and by reason of these flatteries, became a fit man for the conditions of these times, and was suspected to be scarce true unto his Soveraigne; but rather endeavouring by some s cret wayes and meanes, to set abroad new plots for to procure innovation. And for this purpose it was thought he had a hand in the contention that happened amongst the Hollanders and English concerning the Fishing, the Hollanders clayming right to have the Fishing in the Levant, and the English claiming right; upon this contention, they fell from clayme, to words of anger; from words of anger, to blowes; so that there dyed many of them, and a starre was left for further quarrell, but that it was salved by wise Governors, and the expectation of some disappointed.

Neverthelesse the Papists, being a strong faction, and so great a man being their favourer, grew into heads malice, and indeavour to make the insolency of the Scotts to appeare, who to this intent that they might be the more hated of the English, not contented with their present estate, would enter into outrages; some count rfeit the seale Manuell, others quip the Nobility in disdaine, and a third sort secretly contrive the English death, whereby it happened besides common clamor, that there were added secret discontents of private persons, which caused jealousie to happen in those two Nations. But His Majesty, being both wise and worthy, fore-saw the evill, and prevented it by Proclamation, by which meanes these clamors are stopt, and the injurie and offences of both parties redressed. The Irish seeing these sores, and hearing of these misdemeanours (for they have their intelligents here also) begin to grow obstinate, and make religion a pretence to colour their intentions; for which cause they stand out, and protest losse of life and goods, rather then to be forced from their opinion, being wavering and unconstant, rather thirsting for Rebellion, to the intent to purchase their owne liberty, then peace; every new alteration gives occasion of discontent, and causes new complaints to be brought to the Kings eare, under pretence whereof they grew contemptuous to their Governors, and haters of the English Lawes.

The Captaines and Souldiers grew negligent for want of pay, the great men envying one another through private covetousnesse, and many insolencies being suffered, causeth there also to be nourished many misdemeanours to the ruine of that Government.

These things being thus handled, administers occasion to the Papists to hope for some alteration and change. And that as a body that is violent consumeth it selfe, without some speciall cause to maintaine it, so these occurrents will be the cause of their owne destruction: At this time there was a Leaguer in Denmarke, and shortly after another in the Low-countries, but to what end their beginnings were intended is yet unknowne.

The rising of the Earle of Somerset; his favour and greatnesse with the King, and his Parentage, and discontent.

AMong other accidents that happened about these times, the rising of one Master Carre, was most remarkable; a man borne of meane parentage, inhabitant in a Village neere Edenborough in Scotland, and there, through the favour of friends, was preferred to His Majesty to be one of his Pages, for he kept twelve, according to the custome of the French, and so continued it so long as he was in Scotland; afterwards coming into England, the Counsell thought it more honourable to have so many Foot-men to run with His Majesty, as the Queene had before; these Youths had cloathes put to their backs according to their places, and 50 . a piece in their purses, and so were dismissed the Court.

This youth amongst the rest, having thus lost his fortunes, to repaire them againe, makes haste into France, and there continued untill he had spent all his meanes and money; So that now being bare in a strange countrey without friends, or hope to obtaine his expectation, returnes back for England, bringing nothing with him but the Language, and a few French fashions; neverthelesse by the helpe of some of his countrey men, and ancient acquaintance, he was preferred unto the Lord Haies a Scotchman, and favourite of the Kings, to waite upon him as his Page: not long after, that Lord amongst many others was appointed to performe a Tilting, who bearing an affection to this yong man, aswell in respect he was his countrey man, as that he found him to be of a bold disposition, comely visag'd, and of proportionable personage commixt with a courtly presence, preferres him to carry his devise to the King, according to the custome in those pastimes used; Now when he should come to light from off his Horse to performe his Office, his Horse starts, throwes him downe, and breakes his Legge: this accident being no lesse strange then suddaine in such a place, causes the King to demand who he was, answer was made his name was Carre, he taking notice of his name, and calling to remembrance, that such a one was his Page, causes him to be had into the Court, and there provided for him, untill such time as he was recovered of his hurt, after in processe of time, the yong man is called for, and made one of his Bed-chamber to His Majesty, he had not long continued in his place, before (by his good endeavours and diligent service in his Office) the King shewed extraordinary favour unto him, doubling the favour of every action in estimation, so that many are obscured, that he may be graced and dignified.

Thus the hand of the diligent maketh rich, and the dutifull servant cometh to honour, he of all other (either without fraud to obtaine, or desert to continue it) is made the Kings favourite, no suit, no petition, no grant, no l tter, but Mast r Carre must have a hand in it; so that great rewards are bestowed upon him by su tors, and large sums of money by His Majesty; by which meanes his wealth increased with his favour, and with both, Honours: for vertue and riches dignifie their owners, being from a Page raysed to the dignity of Knighthood: After his favour increasing with his honours, there was no demand but he had it, no suit but he obtained it, whether it were Crowne, lands, lands forfeited or confiscated; nothing so deare but the King bestowed upon him, whereby his revenues were enlarged, and his glory so resplendent, that he drowned the dignity of the best of the Nobilitie, and the eminencie of such as were much more excellent. By which meanes envy (the common companion of greatnesse) procures him much discontent, but yet passing through all disadventures, continues his favour: and men being drawne to applaud that which is either strange or new; began to sue him, and most to purchase him to bee their friend and assistant in Court: so great and eminent was his favour.

Of the breach that happened betweene the Earle of E •• ex and his Countesse, her hatred towards him, his lenity, her lightnesse, his constancy.

Now the cares of the vulgar being filled with the fortunes of this gentleman, it ministreth occasion to passe to their opinions, concerning his worth and desert; some extoll and laud his vertues, others the proportion of his personage, many his outward courtship, and most as they stood affected, either praised or dispraised him, insomuch that amongst the rest, the Countesse of Essex, (a woman of this time did not greatly affect her Husband) and withall, being of a lustfull appetite, prodigall of expence, covetous of applause, ambitious of honour, and light of behaviour, having taken notice of this yong gentlemans prosperity, and great favour that was shewed towards him above others, in hope to make some profit of him, most advances him to every one, commending his worth, spirit, audacity, and agility of body, so that her ancient, lawfull, and accustomed love towards her Lord begins to be obscur'd, and those embraces that seemed heretofore pleasing, are turned into frownes, and harsh unseemly words usher her discontents unto her husbands eares.

The good Earle carrying an extraordinary affection towards her, and being a man of a mild and curteous condition, with all honest and religious care, ready rather to suffer then correct these outrages, patiently admonisheth her to a better course of life, and to remember, that now all her fortune dependeth upon his prosperity, and therefore shee offered more injurie to her selfe, then hurt unto him: yet neverthelesse shee persisted, and from bare words returned to actions, thereby giving people occasion to passe their censure of this disagreement; some attributing it to the inconstancy and loosenesse of the Countesse, others to the Earles travailes, and that in his absence shee continued most unconstant, of a loose life, suffering her body to be abused, and others to make shipwrack of her modesty, and to abrogate the rights of marriage, but most because shee could not have wherwith, to satisfie her in atiate appetite and ambi ion, her husband living a private life.

For these causes, I say, shee run at random, and play'd her pranks as the toy tooke her ith' head, sometimes publickly, sometime privately, whereby shee disparaged her reputation, and brought her selfe into the contempt of the world; yet notwithstanding, the Earle retained her with him, allowed her honourable attendance, gave her meanes according to her place, and shewed an extraordinary affection, endeavouring rather by friendly and faire perswasions to win her, then to become super idious over her.

But these things little availe, where affections are carryed to another scope, and those things that to the judgment of the wise become fit to be used, are of others contemned and despised, so that almost all men speake of the loosenesse of her carriage, and wonder that the Earle will suffer her in those courses; whereupon he modestly tells her of it, giving her a check for her inordinate courses, shewing how much it both dishonoured him, and disparaged her in persisting in the eye of the world after so loose and unseemly a sort desiring her to be more civill at home, and not so oft abroad, and thus they parted.

Of my Lord Treasurers death; of Master Overburies coming out of France; his entertainment, he growes into favour.

MY Lord Treasurer Cecill growing into years, having been a good States-man, the only supporter of the Protestant faction, discloser of treasons, and the onely Mercury of our time, having beene well acquainted with the affaires of this Common-wealth, falls into a dangerous sicknesse, and in processe of time, through the extremity of the malady dyes, not without suspition of poyson, according to the opinion of some, others say of secret disease, some naturally, and many not without the privitie of Sir Robert Carre, and the reason of their opinion was, because the King upon a time having given Sir Robert the summe of twenty thousand pounds to be paid by my Lord Treasurer, Sir Robert Carre was denyed it, upon which denyall, there grew some difference bet ••• ne them; the King was privie to it after this manner, my Lord having told out five thousand pounds, laid it in a passage Gallery: the King demands whose mony that was, answer was made by my Lord Treasurer, that it was but the fourth part of that which His Majesty had given unto Sir Robert Carre; whereupon the King retired from his former grant, and wished Sir Robert to satisfie himselfe with that, holding it to be a great gift: hee being thus crost in his expectation, harbor'd in his heart the hope of revenge, which after happened (as was suspected) but it is not certaine, therefore I omit it.

Upon the death of this gentleman, one Master Overbury (sometimes a Student of the Law in the Middle Temple) was newly arrived out of France, who having obtained some favour in Court beforetimes, because of some discontents, got licence to travell, and now at his returne, was entertained into the favour of Sir Robert Carre; whether it proceeded of any love towards him, or to the intent to make use of him, is not certaine; yet neverthelesse he puts him in trust with his most secret employments: In which he behaves himselfe honestly and discreetly, purchasing by his wise carriage in that place, the good affection and favour not only of Sir Robert, but of others also. In processe of time this favour procures profit, profit treasure, treasure honour, honour larger employments, and in time better execution: For where diligence and humility are associate in great affaires, there favour is accompanied with both, so that many Courtiers, perceiving his great hopes, grew into familiarity with him; the Knights expectations are performed, and his businesse accomplished, rather more then lesse, according to his wishes: So that taking notice of his diligence to outward appearance, gives him an extraordinary countenance, uniting him into friendship with himself, in so much that to the shew of the world, his bond was indissolvable, neither could there be more friendship used, since there was nothing so secret, nor any matter so private, but the Knight imparted it to Master Overbury.

Of Mistris Turners life, how the Countesse and shee came acquainted. The combination of the Earles death.

THe Countesse of Essex having harboured in her heart envy towards her husband even untill this time, makes her repaire unto Mistris Turner, (a Gentlewoman that from her youth had been given over to a loose kind of life) being of a low stature, faire visage, for outward behaviour comely, but in prodigality and excesse most riotous; by which course of life shee had consumed the greatest part of her husbands meanes, and her owne; so that now wanting wherewith to fulfill her expectations and extreme pride, falls into evill courses, as to the prostitution of her body to common lust, to practise sorcery and inchantments, and to many little lesse then a flat Bawd; her husband dying, left her in a desperate estate, because of her wants; by which meanes, shee is made apt to enter into any evill accord, and to entertaine any evill motion, bee it never so facinerous: A Doctors wife, who was during his life her Physitian, and in that time shee having entertained into her company, his said wife by that meanes procured further acquaintance, being neere of the said disposition and temperature, as Pares cum paribus facile congregantur; from thence it happened, that shee was suspected even by her meanes and procurement before this, to have lived a loose life, for who can touch pitch and not be defiled? I say, having some familiarity with this woman, and now taking some discontent at her husband more than heretofore, by reason of her falling out with him, and his sharpe answers (as he conceives) to her, repaires to her house, and there amongst other discourses, disgorges her selfe against her husband, whereby the cause of her griefe might easily be perceived. Mistris Turner, as feeling part of her paine, pities her, and in hope of profit, being now in necessity and want, is easily drawne to effect any thing that shee requires, whereupon by the report of some, it was concluded at this time betweene them to administer poison to the Earle, but not taking effect according to their expectation, the Countesse writes unto her to this purpose.

Sweet Turner, as thou hast been hitherto, so art thou all my hopes of good in this world: My Lord is as lusty as ever he was, and hath complained to my brother Howard, that hee hath not layne with mee, nor used mee as his wife. This makes mee mad, since of all men I loath him, because he is the onely obstacle and hinderance, that I shall never enjoy him whom I love.

The Earle having overpast this evill, and continuing still in his prestine estate, procured not any affection, but more hatred and loathsomnesse, so that it burst forth daily to my Lords great discontent, and drawes her headlong into her owne distraction.

Sir Robert Carre made Viscount Rochester, the acquaintance betweene my Lord of Northampton and him, the new affection of the Countesse.

THe King taking great liking to this young Gentleman, to the intent that he might be no lesse eminent in honour, then hee was powerfull in wealth and substance, adornes him with the title of Viscount Rochester, bestowes the Secretariship of State upon him, so that his honour and his wealth makes him famous to forraign Nations. These things comming to my Lord of Northamptons ears, having been a long time Favorite in Court, and now growne into yeares, and by reason thereof, knowing the favour of the King to depend upon many incertainties; and although at this time he was the greater actor in State affaires, yet if this young man continued his height of glory, all his dignity would either be abated, or overshadowed, and that he had not that free accesse to the Kings eares, which he had wont to have, endevoureth as much as in him lyeth to make this Courtier either to be wholly his, or dependent upon his favour, that so having relation to him, hee might make use of his greatnesse. And for this purpose he begins to applaud the wisdom and government of the Viscount, his vertues, outward Courtship, comely carriage, and to conclude, holding him a man of no lesse worth and desert, then any about the King, neither were these things spoken to private or particular persons alone, but even in the eares of the King, to the intent to confirme the Kings favour towards him.

These things coming to this gentlemans eares, takes it as a great favour from so great a personage, and therefore so much the more admires his owne worth, raising his carriage above his wonted course, and in hope of better things, applauding every action is performed by the Earle, by which meanes there growes a kind of community betweeme them, and there wants nothing but entercourse of speech for confirmance of acquaintance, and procuring further relation either to other. Time offers opportunity; the Earle and he meets, each changeth acquaintance with acquaintance of greater familiarity, so that many times letters passed betweene them in their absence, and courtly discourses being present, by which meanes on all hands a confident amity is concluded.

In these times the Countesse of Essex being a spectator of those, and perceiving this Viscount to be still raised up unto honours dayly; in hope of greater, is the more fired with a lustfull desire, and the greater is her indeavours by the instigation of some of her friends to accomplish what shee determined: for greatnesse doth not quallifie, but set an edge upon lustfull appetites, and where the most meanes are to maintaine it, there the greater affections are cherished.

The course shee takes to procure affection; shee combines with Doctor Forman; they conclude to bewitch the Viscount.

IN these furious fits, shee makes her repaire to Mistris Turner, and begins a new complaint, whereby shee makes manifest an extraordinary affection towards this yong gentleman, so that shee could not rest without his company, neither knew shee any means to attaine her ends, there being no relation nor acquaintance betweene them: whereupon Mistris Turner, being still her second, and ready to put any evill attempt into execution, concludes with the Countesse to inchant the Viscount to affect her; And for this purpose they fall acquainted with one Doctor Forman, that dwelt at Lambeth, being an ancient Gentleman, and thought to have skill in the Magick Art: This man by rewards and gifts was won to joyne with Mistris Turner, who now to the intent to prey upon the Countesse, endeavour the best they may to enchant the Viscounts affection towards her: Much time is spent, many words of witchcraft, great cost in making Pictures of wax, crosses of silver, little babies for that use, yet all to small purpose; At length they continuing in their Sorcery, advised her to live at Court, where shee had free accesse without controule, though of small acquaintance with him whom shee most respected, neverthelesse, shewing an aff ble countenance towards him, hoping in processe of time to attaine that shee required. Time offers opportunity, and amongst other, at length these two fall into league, the Countesse being joyfull of her prey, admires him, uses all kindnesse that may be to intrap him: He, whether by these inchantments, or by the lightnesse of his owne disposition carried, is as much besotted, numbring her amongst the best women, and doubling every action in his estimation, in so much, that hee could scarce rest but in her company, whereupon their meetings grew frequent, and discourses pleasant, by these meanes inflaming the fire of a lustfull appetite.

These things having happened so well to her expectation, causes a greet love towards these good couple, (viz.) Doctor Forman, and Mistris Turner, solliciting them with Letters, with money, and large promises, to continue still their friend, they willing to make use of their wealth, more then expecting any good they could accomplish by their Art, persist amongst her imployments: Mistris Turner makes triall for her selfe, by which meanes, many sleights and accustomed tricks are practised, and now reported to returne to the hurt of many; for a womans hands being once entred into the act of sinne, runs head-long to her destruction, turning those evill acts to evill ends, and endeavouring to purchase by that means profit and commoditie.

How it was thought the Earle of Northampton had a hand in the businesse. Invites the Viscount to supper. The Countesse and he meets; places of meetings are appointed. The Earle made Chancellor of Cambridge.

IT was vulgarly opinionated, that the Countesse of Essex having sustained these discontents with her husband, acquainted her Uncle, the Earle of Northampton, of her affection especially towards the Viscount, who weighing the profit that might redound to his owne imployments, if there were such affinity had between them, eemed to give a liking towards it, and endeavoured rather to further it, then at all to disswade her, or giving her that honest and good counsell to be dutifull to her husband, as was fitting. Howsoever the first meeting that they had, wherein there was any conference, was at the Earles house, who invited the Viscount to supper, and there finding the Countesse, they at their pleasure appointed meetings for further discourses. But whether there was any one made privie to these things it is not evident.

But from this time the Countesse and Viscount continued their loose kind of life, and as was commonly suspected, had further relation then was fitting, to the great disparagement of them both, and dishonour of so noble a House; what the issue of these things are continue in obscurity, notwithstanding the Earle of Northampton is much blamed, the Countesse defamed, and the Viscount himselfe for his loosenesse suspected.

Now was this Lord propounded at the Regent house to be Chancellor of Cambridge, the Schollers fall into divers opinions, and the Ramists propound the Prince, to oppose him; this election passed of the Earles side, he refuses, but still flatters the Schollers, makes the King acquainted with it, & though willing to undertake it, yet shewing an unwillingnesse, endeavoured rather to be urged to it, then receive it voluntarily; this was imputed, because of his oppose to the Prince, but the truth was to perceive, whether the Schollers affections were setled upon love and respect unto himselfe, or meerely to depend upon his greatnesse. The King writes in his behalfe to the Vicechancellor. They proceed to the new election, the Earle againe is chosen, his title sent him, and he in requitall sends many and plausive Letters, and that they might be the more acceptable, being sent to Schollers, wrote to them in Latine, it is intollerable the flattery that he used.

Overbury growes into grace with the King; is made Knight. The entercourse betweene the Countesse and the Viscount made knowne to Overbury.

AFter some continuance of time, Master Overbury growes eminent in Court, as well by reason of the Viscounts favour, as the good and carefull diligence that he had in Court employments; so that now comparing his worth with his wealth, he is had in more respect, and the honour of Knight-hood bestowed upon him, with the hope of better things; this howsoever in it selfe it be not valuable, yet in speculators it striketh a doubt, especially in the Viscount, for soveraignty and love can abide no Paragon.

Things that at the beginning proceed with modesty, are little or nothing regarded. But when men grow old in such things that are hatefull, they make every place alike with a blushlesse face, committing them to the open view: By this meanes Overbury came acquainted with this entercourse betweene the Viscount and the Countesse: for now they having had some time of familiarity and entercourse in remote parts, shame not to commit the sin of venery in the Court, and that to the privity of Sir Thomas, who both loathes and hates what he sees, avoiding rather then intruding himselfe to the knowledge of it, neither meddles hee any way or other with it, but lets them alone in their vicious courses, and rather seemes to be ignorant, then take any notice of it.

Neverthelesse, hee is employed to carry Letters to and againe between the Countesse and the Viscount, some to Paternoster-row, some to Hammersmith, and others to other places of meeting, which were appointed betweene them, by which meanes comparing both actions together, he entred into the secrets of this mystery, and became acquainted with more things then the Viscount would have had him, from whence a kind of jealousie was carried towards him.

Of the second complaint of the Earle of Essex. The Countesse combines with Turner to bewitch him it taketh effect. Formans death: One Gresham is entertained into the businesse.

NOw the Earle of Essex perceiving himselfe to be rather lesse regarded, then any whit at all esteemed, enters into a new discourse with his Lady, with many protestations both of his constancie and love towards her; but with all tells her o her loosenesse, of the report of the vulgar, and what a strange course of life shee led, contrary to all piety and honesty, which stung the Countesse to the heart, and more encreased and augmented her m lice towards him, so that in a great fury, shee takes her coach, and repairs to her ancient acquaintance Mistris Turner, who according to her old custome, is ready to performe any evill act, and there they combine to bewitch the Earle, and procure frigidity quoad hanc: for this purpose Doctor Forman for the procuring of meanes, pictures in wax are m de, crosses and many strange and uncoth things (for what will the devill leave unattempted to accomplish their ends?) many attempts failed, and still the Earle stood it out. At last, they framed a picture of wax, and got a thorne from a tree that bare leaves, and stucke upon the privity of the said picture, by which meanes they accomplished their desires.

This being done according to her expectation, shee repaires to her house at Chartley, and thither the Earle comes to her, but whether he was more lusty then shee expected, or what other accident happened, it is unknowne: neverthelesse shee grew jealous of her art, and falls into a great feare, that all their labour was lost, wherupon shee writ a Letter to Doctor Forman to this effect: Sweet Father,

although I have found you ready at all times to further mee, yet must I still crave your helpe, wherefore I beseech you to remember, that you keepe the doores close, and that you still retaine the Lord with mee, and his affection towards mee; I have no cause but to be confident in you, although the world be against mee, yet heaven failes mee not, many are the troubles I sustaine, the doggednesse of my Lord, the crossenesse of my enemies, and the subversion of my fortunes, unlesse you y your wisdome doe deliver me out of the midst of this wildernesse, which I entreat for Gods sake.

From Chartley, Your affectionate loving daughter, Francis Essex.

This Letter coming to the hands of the old Master, procures a new attempt, and now he goes and inchants a Nutmeg and a Letter, and to be given to the Viscount in his drinke, the other to be sent unto him as a present; These things being accomplished, he not long after dyed, leaving behind him some of those Letters, whereby the Countesse had entercourse with him in his Pocket, which gave some light into the businesse, amongst which this same was one.

Doctor Forman being dead, Mistris Turner wanted one to assist her, whereupon at the Countesse her coming up to London, one Gresham was nominated to be entertained into this businesse, and in processe of time was wholly interessed in it. This man was had in suspition to have had a hand in the Gu powder Treason, he wrote so neere in his Alm nack, but without question he was a very skilfull man in the Mathematicks, and in his later time in witchcraft, 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 (as now suspected) and therefore the fitter to be employed in those practises, which as they were devillish, so the devill had a hand in them.

The Countesse sends the Viscount this Letter inchanted by Doctor Forman: Places of meetings appointed, their intollerable loosenesse. Poets verses upon them. The beginning of the Fall.

VPon her returne shee sends gratulations to the Viscount, and with those the Letter sent her by Doctor Forman, hee reades it, and the more he reades it, the more is intangled: For no man knows the miseries that are contained in evil Arts, and who can withstand the words of evill tongues; whereupon he returnes answer, and new places of meetings are assigned, amongst the rest, one at Hammersmith: In the mean time the Viscount makes dispatch of his businesse, leaving things halfe done, halfe undone, to the intent he might meet her, who had now stayed for hi comming above two houres, and being met, they solemnly saluted each other; fall into divers discourses, and insinuating phrases, from words to deeds, and from speaking, to acting the sin of venery. The Countesse having obtained that shee desired, and the Viscount caught in the net of adulation, the more he strives to be loosed, is caught the faster, so that lust having by this meanes got liberty, being covered with greatnesse, like a fire long concealed in a pile of rotten wood, burst forth with all loosenesse and licenciousnesse; places of more frequent and private meetings being concluded betweene them, persons fit ing for their purposes being acquainted with their proceedings; watchwords are given. All things having relation to a certaine end, makes them more boldly and safely to accomplish that which both time and memory cannot demonstrate in former History.

Now these good parts which seemed heretofore to be hopefull in the Viscount, consumes to cinders, and the corruption remaines to brand him in the fore-head for his ill living; his modesty becomes eclipsed, his behaviour light, his carriage unseemely in his place, nothing so costly, no tyre so uncoth, but at all costs and charges he obtaines it for the encrease of favour; new fashions are produced, that so he might shew more beautifull and faire, and that his favour and personage might bee made more manifest to the world, and for this purpose yellow bands, dusted haire, curled, crisped, frisled, slicked skins, open breasts beyond accustomed modestie, with many other inordinare attires were worne on both sides to the shew of the world, so that for the encrease of dishonest appetites, they were abundantly practised and praised.

Surfeiting thus upon pleasure, having been before accustomed unto hardnesse, causeth him to fall into all manner of forgetfulnesse; letting all things go to wrack, carelesse in attendance, neglecting State affaires, ignorant of his owne worth, and subjecting himselfe to the lustfull appetite of an evill woman, accompring no time so well spent, nor houre deemed so happie, as when dalliance and pleasant discourses past between them; either in words or writings, so that in him may be verified the old saying of the Poet. Non facili juvenum multis è millibus unum Virtuti pretium, qui putat esse suum, Fallit eum vicium specie virtutis & umbra Cum sit triste habitum vultuque veste Severum, Nec dubio tanquam fruge laudatur avorum. Of thousand youths there scarce is one That vertue valueth as his prize, For vic deceives him and alone The shew of vertue blinds their eyes, Although their countenance pensive bee, Their garments and their habits grave, Yet all their fruit doubtlesse we see Is lust and glory that they crave.

These things layes him open to the ill affection of them that hate him, and layes the foundation of his utter subversion, since the eyes of all men are upon such as are eminent; and as black upon white is soonest discerned, so evill conditions and lascivious affections are soonest perceived in such persons.

The faithfulnesse of Sir Thomas Ove bury unto the Viscount, the advice he gave him contemned. Favou s are more bestowed upon him; ma e of the Privy Counsell.

THis course of life being somewhat strange to those that were ignorant of these designes, gives new occasion of wonder and admiration, how he should continue still his favour; many things being le t undone, others done to the halfe, insomuch that all must lye upon Overbu y's neck, and this doth he honestly, and to the Viscounts credit, attributing every action to his doing, although of him neglected: Answers for him in his absence, hastens dispatches in his presence, furthers the requests of suitors, and through the neglect and carelesnesse of the Viscount, growes in greater credit and esteeme, so that his carefulnesse, sufficiency, and diligence, makes him become eminent, and beloved both of the King and Counsell.

Yet neverthelesse he lessens his owne worth, gives all the dignity to the Viscount, endeavouring how the p opl stood affected towards him, finds many complaints and some injuries to be done unto him, who being blinded with pleasure, overslip or lets them passe with small respect; whereupon he takes occasion at a time convenient, to utter these or the like words unto him: [Sir, howsoever o her things may passe either with small regard, or be smothered with honour, and greatnesse; yet such things as lay a man open to obloquie and contempt, can hardly be obscured in a person so publique and eminent as your Lordship is, which things are often esteemed to be in a man that outwardly seemeth light and effeminate, or inwardly wanteth the ballast of government to poise eternall actions.

Of a truth Sir (be it spoken without offence) the Court calls your modesty into question, and feares that these honours that should be hereditary to noble personages, will be obscured with eminent e ills, and blemished wit levitie and inconstancie.] These with many other discourses h ving at this time past betwee e t em, sound d somthing h rshly in th Viscounts eares, as all good counsell becomes evill, to those that are evill. And in a kind of anger flung from him, though undeserved, yet neverthelesse all his countenance and favour was not wholly obscured, but that he might still enjoy that which he expected, which was hope of preferment.

More fa ours are bestowed upon the Viscount, being called to be one of the Privy Counsell, which honour, howsoever it was great, nd more then was expected; yet because he was yong, one that to the opinion of the world was of no education, literature, and experience, (besides these inordinate courses) brings him into further contem t of the world, so that every m n would take the freedome of his Language, and spe ke harsh y of these proceedings: some con emning his course of life, others his insufficiencie, because of his youth, and most his w nt of experience, by which meanes hi greatnesse overtops his substance; And as a Ship without ballast is tottered too and againe, to the terror of those that are in it in a storme and high water; Even so these honours thus sudd inly bestowed upon him before his due time, layes him the more open to the evill opinion of the envious, and with some doth sooner hasten his ruine: For which cause, it behooves such as are thus drawne up meerly by fortune, either to be possessed with such irtues aforehand, that thereby they might maintaine themselves in their greatnesse, or else to expect a suddaine overthrow at a time unexpected.

B. 2. Speeche of the Lady Elizabeths Marriage with the Palsgrave: Conditions concluded upon. A. 1. The Prince takes dislike at the Viscount. The Princes death, rumors upon the same.

NOw Prince Henry was living, and having some intelligence of this loose king of life which the Viscount led, and being something jealous of him, for because of that he heard, doth uterly dislike him, forbeares his company, and whether for that or some other cause, it is unknowne, falls flat at o ds with him, not once giving him any countenance, or vouchsafeing him his countenance.

Not long after, as it might be about the beginning of November, he fell sick, continued so some weeke or little more, the maladie increasing (lying in his head) he dyes. A man may say of this Prince as was said of Mecaenas, both for wisdom & strength of body, There was not the like to be found among the English: The hope of England, strange was the accident, and many the rumors that ensued upon his death. Some said that a French Physitian killed him, others that he was poysoned, againe others thought that he was bewitched; yet no certainty could be found, but that he dyed a naturall death. This accident filled all the Kingdome with lamentations, and caused the Wedding that followed at Candlemas after to be kept in sable. The Funerall was performed in great state, and with more griefe; much might be said, but I leave it. My purpose being onely in briefe to set out these matters to memory, that after-ages might see the evill of our times, where the greatest part of many Courtiers actions are to find out tricks, how to circumvent their fellow servants, and some, (if it were possible) to dispossesse the King of his dignity, as hereafter shall be shewed; so many are he discontents that are cherished among them.

These domestick affaires having thus happened, and the death of the Prince filling the Court with sorrow, and the Court being full of other imployments, by reason of the Marriage that was to be had with the Palsgrave of Rhine, and her grace, (who was now marriageable) past over the rest in silence. The match is concluded, and great expectation and provision for his coming over to performe the ceremonies of matrimony are made, at whose coming, many rumors are spread abroad. First, that the Spaniard tooke this to the heart, and therefore layd to doe him some mischiefe by the way.

That there was a Ship of pocket Pistolls came out of Spaine, and that it was intended by the Papists to have made a Massacre. And that Northampton did utterly oppose this match, for he was as great an enemy to the Dutch and Protestants, as ever Cicell was their friend; and that many Priests were arrived, and such like; yet neverthelesse it was accomplished with great Pompe and state, all or the greatest part of the Nobility being there present, a Maske in the great banquetting-house, the Gentlemen of the Middle Temple, and other of Grayes Inne: a third besides three dayes Tylting, and running at the Ring, the King himselfe in person with the yong Prince that now is King, besides many other pastimes, both stately and becoming the dignity of a King.

At this time there was a Proclamation against Verdingales, but to little purpose, for they rather increased greater, then diminished; For where a thing is once growne into a habit, it is hardly to be restrained.

There was another Proclamation, upon the former report of the coming of a Ship of pocket Pistolls out of Spaine, that no man should carry a Pistoll in his pocket, nor any that should be lesse then a foot long in the barrell. About this time also the Papists were disarmed, and many strange rumors raised, which things because they were uncertaine, I omit to relate them, being rather pertinent unto state, then unto profit.

Embassadors sent into Russia, Swethia, and other Provinces or the renuing o frien ship. Of the League in the Low-countries. The rumour of it.

MA y outrages having beene now of late committed by the Arch-duke upon the States, divers rumors are raised concerning the Leaguer, both strange and almost universall: For there were parties, the Pope, the Emperour, the King of Spaine, and a Cardinall to ai e the Arch-duke ag inst the S •• tes. The foundation of this combustion was layd upon the s cking of a Protestant towne in Br b •• t whereupon Grave Maurice drew out ten thousand into the Field, and s m ew blowes happened, and suspected that it would have growne further, and that th re would have been a generall opposition betweene Protestants and Papist , but by meanes of the Pope and the King, it was agreed, and went no further, but left a scare to give a new occasion.

The warre o Denmarke was also brought unto a happy end, and the King r tained his right there; not long after the issue whereof, Embass dors were sent into Muscovie to renew the League of friendship with the Emperour, who now being brought low by conti u ll warres, was glad to entertaine such a motion. Traffique is confirmed there with that Nation, and rom thence the same Embass dors went to Swethi , to conclude a Le gue of friendship, the reason whereof was thought to be for the ancient amity that had bee e had heretofore betwee e the King of that Nation; from thence they went to the Duke of Cleeve, and so to the Emperour with salutations.

The suit of the Cloth-workers; my Lord o Rochester stands for them; The complaint of the Countesse, shee sues or a Divorce.

NOw this yeare the Cloth-workers (being covetous of larger imployments) petition the King and Counsell, that there might go no more white cloth out of this Kingdome, but that they might be all dressed and dyed here before th y went over, and the reasons o th ir petition were three: First, that the Hollander making use of dressing and dying our cloth almost doubled the value they bought it or, whereby they were enriched, and we were impoverished. The second reason, that whereas there was a multitude of poore in this Kingdome that wanted imployment, if they might have the dying and the dressing of those clothes, it would find them worke whereby they might be relieved, and there was no reason why any other should make benefit of that which wee might make good of our selves. Lastly, whereas the Trade of dressing of cloth began to decay; if now they might but have this, in processe of time it might be restored, and they might have as good skill to dresse cloth, as the Dutchmen. My Lord of Rochester, my Lord of Northampton, my Lord Tre surer that now is, were great agents in this businesse, and were thought to have been promised great summes of money to accomplish it.

Now the Countesse begin new complaints, and findes her Art to continue firme, and th t indeed there was such frigidity quoad hanc accomplishe : That her hu b nd, the good Earle of Essex, could not execute the office of a hu band, she up and tels her friends that shee is still a maid, and that shee had good cause to complain, since that shee having continued so long his wife, shee in that space had never the fruition of that pleasure that ought to be betweene man and wife, for which cause shee protested that she would never keep him company any longer, and desired a Divorcement, because of his insufficiencie.

This seemed strange unto the world, who tooke notice of the Earle to be of an able body, and likely to have many children, and to undertake any exploit for the good of the Common-wealth, indeed valuing this to be but an idle and vain rumour that was spread (as often happened) to see how such a thing would be liked in the world, and therefore let it passe with little notice.

In the meane time there is a motion betweene Rochester and her for a marriage, and since it was so, that the world had taken notice of their businesse, now to make some satisfaction, they would consummate a wedding betweene them: This motion was well liked of on both parties, but the obstacle remained, her husband was alive, and the Law would not permit her to have two husbands; whereupon shee growes the more eager of a divorce, that so shee might have a new hu band, (for women of her disposition delight in change) and therefore renewes her complaint, advice is taken in the businesse whether such a thing may be had, there being no cause publique of adultery or dislike of the husband: Againe, it was a question whether the wife might sue a divorce or not, for that the Bill of divorcement was given to the husband, and not to the wife; many such like objections being disputed to and againe, at last it is concluded.

That in case the Earle was so unable, as she reported, to execute the office of an husband, and that upon the search of twelve matrons, shee appeared still to be a maid: It was lawfull that there might be a divorce, and the reason was two-fold, one that there might bee a frigidity quoad hanc, another that marriage was appointed for procreation sake, for which cause it was thought lawfull to sue a divorce.

Upon this they proceeded to the search, twelve Matrons were empannelled, the day appointed, the search made, and the verdict returned, that she was a true maid: who should bring this to the eares of the King, but my Lord of Northampton, and so to the world, who growes jealous of fraud, doubting either corruption or deceit, (for it was vulgarly reported) that she had a child long before in my Lords absence; whereupon, some say this, some say that, and most that the Countesse was not searched; but that one of Sir Thomas Monsons daughters was brought in to be searched in her place, and so both Jury and Judges deceived. But how true this is, is not credible; yet neverthelesse they grant a bill of divorce, and now a seperation being had betweene them, the Earle in a great discontent leaves the Court, and repaired to his house in Warwickshire, and there lives a private life.

The motion of Marriage goes forward. Overburies opinion concerning it; He disswades Rochester from it: The breach betweene them; the principall cause of it.

NOw might there bee a Lawfull discourse of marriage, since there was a lawfull divorce, had it neverthelesse been kept private, and onely some particular friends made Privie on Rochesters side, Overbury, whose advice he requires amongst others in this businesse, to what end it is unknowne. Neverthelesse, Overbury was utterly against it, and being in serious discourse with him concerning this subject, in the passage gallery at White-hall, entred into these or the like words, as was reported.

First, how much he stood obliged to him for his countenance and favour, and therefore would speak nothing but what was truth. Then how du iful and ready he was to performe all his commands, from whence he might easily perceive, that what he spake was out of affection. And lastly, that he had often endeavoured to avert his mind from these things, that both time and the envie of men might turne his prejudice, taxing him that he had made all this to become hurtfull unto him, and converting the meaning of good intentions towards him, to his disparagement and losse; notwithstanding the Viscount still prest him on to passe his opinion, protesting great kindnesse, and to do nothing without his opinion; whereupon he lets him understand, that perceiving the common reports of the multitude, and weighing them with the greatnesse of his person, that he found it to be no lesse hurtfull to his preferment, then helpfull to subvert and overthrow him. For who would (being possessed of so gre t possibility as he was, so great honours and large reve nues, and d ily in expectation of others) cast all away upon a wom n, th t is noted both for her in ury and immodesty, and pull upon him the hatred nd contempt of great person ges for so small a mat er; then he willed him to consider with himselfe the condition of the person wher of he sp ke, the m nner of her c rriage from her yo th, her present conversation, the m ny nvies, dishonours and dislikes that were attendant upon her; and besides, which is now the commo report of the vulg r (and he should find them to be so many evils o attend her sub ersion and overthrow.

It is not the nature of a wise man to make her his wife, whom he hath made his whore. Lastly, willed him to expect no better requitall at her hands, then which she had shewed to her former hu b nd, and withall to weigh the present condition that he was in, and to compare it with the future; now hee h d, as it were, but an inclination unto such a thing, neith r were those things made evident, that after ages would lay open, neverthelesse that hee as taxed with incivility, levity, and indeed effeminatenesse, that by the opinion of the wise, he was adjudged altogether unworthy of that honour that was bestowed upon him. But when these surmises should come by this his marri ge to be m de evident, what evils before were but suspected, should then be enlarged, and laid to his charge: Honour is not attended with volup uousnesse, nor are the ruines of a rotten branch to be cherished upon a new planted tree; but if that he meant to be made famous, and to continue that with him, that now hee freely enjoyed; his opinion was, that hee should utt rly leave and forsake her company, and to hold her, was both hurtfull and hatefull.

These speeches drew on others, and the Viscount being a little netled in his affection, growes somewhat harsh. And Sir Thomas having been heretofore excepted at with these kind of contentions, growes so much the more carelesse, answers word for word, so that from fa ••• and friendly speeches, they grew to words of anger, and either to crosse other. In conclusion, Overbury requires his portion due unto him, and so wills Rochester to leave him to his owne fortunes, for that he could not endure these inordinate jangles which he had accustomed towards him of late, and that if there had beene any thing said, that was either offensive to him, or to the disparagement of the Countesse, it was by his owne procurement, and by reason of the good will and affection that he bore to him: with these and many such words they parted.

Rochester and the Countesse meet; They conclude the death of Overbury; That Northampton had a hand in it; causes why.

THe Countesse having ere this borne a deadly hate towards Overbury, because he had oftentimes before diswaded the Viscount to abstaine from her company; yet now having disclosed unto her this speech, shee becomes much more revengefull, especially because he had taxed her with the name of a Whore; for truth is hatefull to the evill, and what before shee concealed, now breakes forth with furie. For concealing anger is much worse then open violence, perswading Rochester that it was not possible that ever shee should endure these injuries, or hope for any prosperity as long he lived; he being the onely man that withstood his purposes, with many other perswasions, that he onely of all men began to grow eminent, and who was the man so likely to step up after him as Overbury: Insomuch as these perswasions, together with his owne conceived evill, procures the Viscount to give a liking to her determination, and to put his hand into the fire, where he needed not, making himselfe accessary to that which he had no occasion to put in practise at all.

There were some that charged Northampton to have had a hand in these businesses, and to have uttered these and the like words, That he wondered how the Viscount could be so much affected to this man Overbury, that without him he could doe nothing, (as it 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 were) making him his right hand, seeing he being newly growne into the Kings favour, and wholly depending upon his greatnesse, must expect to come to ruine, when that man rose to preferment: Also he condemned Overbu y for his boldnesse and peremptory saucinesse, that checkt and corrected the Viscount for the love that past betwixt the Viscount and him, and opposed many of his designes and purposes; whereupon he concluded, that unlesse he did ei her curbe his greatnesse, or abate his pride, he in time would be equ ll with him both in po er and greatnesse: whether this proceeded out of fear of him elfe, or envie towards Overbury, or to collogue with his Neece and Roches er, or to prevent the plagues of Sr Tho: who al ogether distasted these nigling courses: It cannot be conceived but these are the last words that he spake of this subject. That for his owne part he knew himselfe cleare in all offences against the State, and their familie was so eminent in the Common-wealth, that he could not hurt him. But for Rochester, being made privie to all his designes, growing peremptory, and no whit tractable to his disposition; besides likely to come to eminency and honour in the Common-wealth, he finds it both necess ry and fitting or his safety, that he should be a meanes to dispatch him: whereupon the Viscount being led by the nose, as he thought for the best, gives consent, and endeavours to put in practise what they have determined; Now of all hands they cast about how this might be effected and passe unregarded, so that they might sustaine no losse or disparagement by the attempt.

Sir William Wade removed from the Lieutenancie of the Tower, Sir Jarvice Yeluis preferred.

For this purpose alone it was thought that a quarrell was picked by Sir William Wade, who was now Lieutenant of the Tower, and had continued a great while, but there were other causes objected. And first he was thought too severe against the Lady Arabella, and gave some other Prisoners too much libertie: Another was, that e being now growne rich, began to grow carelesse and neglected his office; But the very truth of the businesse was thought to be this, Sir Iervace Yeluis being a Lincolnshire gentleman, having beene brought up a publique life from his youth, trained in the study of the publique Lawes at Lincolns Inne, and ambitious of preferment, offered a summe of money for that honour and place; For howsoever Sir William Wade might be one way taxed for his too much desire of wealth, which thing might be tollerable in him, being prest with a great charge; yet he was wise, honest, and discreet in his place, and discharged it with much more sufficiencie then he that succeeded him: but according to the sa ing of the Poet. Quisquis ha et nummos secura navigat aura, Fortunaque suo temporet arbitrio, These men that store of money have With prosperous wind shall saile, And fortune plaies unto their wish, To speed they cannot fayle.

By this meanes he is got into the Lieutenancie, and for this cause Sir William Wade is put out. Things ordered after this sort never proceed without envie, unlesse the persons that enjoy such places be very considerate, it is likely they will have a suddaine fall; but what care men of power for such things? he being established in his office must recollect his money pay'd by using some kind of extortion, and to beare out this, be observant to such as preferred him, and so by their countenance, he might use the greater liberty: For this cause he made the Earle of Northampton and Rochester the whole end of his actions, fearing more to displeas them then the King; A fit man for their purpose.

The Countesse repaires to Mistris Turner to enquire a man out for her; makes complaint of Overburies insolencie, discloses her determin tions; Weston is nominated.

IN the meane time the Countesse thought it not enough to heare, nor to fret and fume, nor perswade and intreat my Lord to undertake this dangerous enterprise; but to Mistris Turner shee must go, and there renue her complaints with teares, (hardly found in a woman of her disposition) protesting shee was never so defamed, neither did shee ever thinke, that any man durst to be so saucie, as to call her whore and base woman, and that to Rochester her only hopes, and with an impudent face; But Overbury that Negro, that scumme of men, that Devill incarnate, he might doe any thing, and passe either unregarded or unpunished: This moves pity in this pitifull woman Mistris Turner, who frets as fast to see her fret, so that there is storming betweene them, as is incredible. At length, as wee see two clouds after long strife in the ayre, which shall have the priority in place, joyne in one; so these two women, after they had fulfilled their frantick humor joyne in this, to be the death of him; that must be the end, (there is no malice to the malice of a woman) no submission, no intreaty, no perswasion could prevaile, but he must dye, Mistris Turner soothes her with (I that shee ould) and it is pity he should live to defame so honourable a Lady, so well descended, to the utter disparagement of her house, and that rather then he should passe with life, shee would be his deaths-man her selfe; words of course in such cases, where people are carried away with heady malice, not with reason: Yet for all this, coming to their right sences, they begin to weigh the matter, and that it was no small thing to kill a man, both in respect of conscience and law. The efore they cast about which should be the best way to doe it; at las they conclude, that to poyson him was the only way, and that with le •• t suspect. But then the partie that should doe it was to seeke; for he must be no ordinary man, some Apothecarie or Physitian that might temper the poyson rightly to take effect, according to t eir minde, and of long study: one Weston was named, that had sometime beene servant to Doctor Turner, and thereby learned such experience, that none was so fitting to accomplish this exploit to him. This man now in the countrey must be sent for, Mistris Turner must worke upon him to bring him to this exploit; for things of this nature must be carried with wisdome and discretion, for who will hazard his life for (had I wist.) Two hundred pounds is proffered him, and he of all men undertakes it.

Overburies great favour. The motion of the Councell to send him Embassadour to the Arch-duke. He contemplates of it. Is perswaded by my Lord Viscount to refuse it.

THese things notwithstanding Overbury still growes into favour, and the Councell still finding his diligence and sufficiency in his place, nominates him as a man fit to be sent Embassadour into the Low-countries to the Arch-duke, making that a meanes to draw him up to great preferments. This comes to Overburies eare, who knowing my Lord of Northampton to be his utter enemy, & growing jealous of Rochester, begins to contemplate what the meaning of this might be; thus betweene hope and feare, he stands at a maze: To refuse would be to his great disgrace; to undertake it would be to the losse of his preferment: standing in these doubts, the Viscount after thus many jangles comes to him and salutes him, and after many discourses, falls into speech of the intention of the Councell concerning this Embassage, not so much to assist and encourage him to it, as to see how he stood affected; whereupon, finding him hammering upon his determinations, not being certainly determined to any thing, joynes with him, and utterly diswades him from undertaking it: For (quoth he) your preferments and your expectations lyes not among forraigne nations; you are now in cre it at home, and have already made tryall of the dangers of travaile, why then should you hazard all upon uncertainties, being in possession (as a man might say) of all that you may expect by by this meanes already? These speeches, what with the trust he put in the Viscount, what with the doubtfulnesse of his mind, doth in a manner confirme his opinion rather to leave it, then to take it. But neverthelesse gives to understand, that it was no small thing to oppose the determination of the Councell, and to contradict the Kings imployment; for in either of these he must expect the displeasure of both, and be in danger to receive condigne punishment.

But Rochester, to get these doubts out of his mind, with great protestation and long discourses, let him understand he had so much experience of his worth, and found him so faithfull and diligent in imployments, that he could so well misse his right hand as misse him, an that in case any such danger should happen to him; yet neverthelesse, if either his word, his letter, credit, or favour, could either mitigate, release, or relieve him, it should not be wanting to doe him ease and pleasure.

Being led on with these hopes, he is in a manner drawne utterly to deny that which was intended for his profit, and to give him a fit opportunity to excuse their malice towards him, as after happened according to the saying of the Poet. Ne quic quam crede, haud credere quic quam —nam f onte polito Astutum rappido torrent sub pectore vulpem. Beleeve not thou scarce any man; For oft a Phrygian face, Is smoothly covered with a smile, But within seeks thy disgrace.

The Viscount seeing him at this time in so fitting a vaine to be wrought upon, and so easily to be perswaded from his purpose, shewed him much more favour then heretofore he had done, the better to confirme credence in him towards his perswasions, & to encourage him in his determinations, & by this meanes he is utterl deceived, and growes confident to orsake it; in this mind the Viscount leaves him, and betakes himselfe to his purpose.

The Countesse, Earle, and Viscount meet. They determine of the matter. The King is incensed against Overbury.

SIr Iervace being now growne old in his office, and being acquainted with it; amongst other things is sounded whether he stands faith ull to his Pat ons, Northampton and Roches er, whereby it is found, that he would be plyant to any thing they would desire; but yet not made acquainted with this determination, neverthelesse it feeds them with hope to execute their purposes with better prosperitie: For the Lieutenant being their friend, and Weston (a man that had gotten the art of poysoning) entertained for the purpose, and with a resolute mind ready to effect it, made them neither suspect nor doubt any thing, onely how they might get him to the Tower. For this purpose it is thought fit, that Roches er having the Kings eare, should be a meanes to possesse the King with some misdemeanors that he had committed, that thereby the King being incenst against him, and the refusall of the Embassage, making evident the truth of these complaints, that they need not doubt of any such matter; whereupon my Lord of Rochester amongst other things (as at time convenient) lets the King understand how insolent Overbury was growne, that he not only contemned him, but His Majesty also, estimating this imployment to be sent Embassador either too light a preferment for his deserts, or else intended to procure him further evill, and that he utterly dislik't it, and determined to refuse it.

The King being possessed of these things, and by him, (who to the judgment of the world was his greatest friend) took displeasure at it, so that by his countenance, one might have perceived his anger; For the frowning of a King is like the roaring of a Lyon, terrible to the spectators and hearers, so that now they doubted not of their expectations to get him into the Tower, where being a Prisoner in the Kings disgrace, under the protection of one who more esteemed their favour then the Kings displeasure, sequestred from his friends, no intercourse suffered to come unto him, but what came from the Countesse, Northampton, Rochester and Weston, a fit agent to execute all manner of evills; why, to the judgment of the world, it is impossible that ever this evill should come to light. And thus being ranked up in their owne conceits, they run headlong to their owne destruction: for when there were but two persons privie to the act of murther, as in Cain and Abell, it could not passe unpunished, but that Cain must be marked with a perpetuall marke of ignomie; how much lesse shall this go undiscovered, when there are so many privie to it? Thus may wee see that one sinne another doth provoke, And that murther is as neere to lust as flame to smoake.

Sir Thomas refuses the Embassage; Incurres the Kings displeasure; He is sent to the Tower. Westom is preferred to him. Gresham dyes. Fra cklin entertained into the businesse. A new speech of Marriage betweene the Countesse and Rochester.

SIr Thomas Overbury and Rochester, having (for some private occasion fallen into a new breach at Newmarket, returnes very pensively to London; and now the time being come that he should give an answer, what he would doe concerning this Embassage, he answered, That he acknowledged himselfe much bound unto His Majesty for many favours that he had bestowed upon him, as to preferre him to so great honour; but yet neverthelesse knowing himselfe of such a place (unexperienced) how to execute it, and besides tyed to many domestick businesses, desired to be excused; This seeming something strange and harsh, that he should neglect his owne good, and by this meanes incurre the displeasure of the King, and lose his expectations, makes some of his friends to wonder, others to stand in a maze.

But in the conclusion, as he had justly deserved, by reason of his contempt, he is committed to the Tower, but not to be kept as a close Prisoner; but after, my Lord of Northampton and Rochester being both of the Privie Councell, and in great favour at Court, sends unto the Lieutenant that he should keep him close Prisoner, and afterwards received by word of mouth from Sir Thomas Monson, that he should not suffer any Letters, tokens or other things to be delivered unto him.

Their expectation in this thing being accomplished, Mis Turner by the instigation of the Countesse, becomes a great suitor to Sir Thomas Monson, to have his Letter to preferre Weston unto Sir Thomas to waite on him in the Tower, who hearing the name of the Countesse; and withall, understanding the great affection that was betweene her and Rochester, condescended, wrote, and sent him with the Letter to Sir Iervace in the Tower; He shewed it to Sir Thomas, willing to deserve his petitions chiefest favour, with the more readinesse entertained him: As when a man ignorantly treads upon a Serpent, is stung for his labour; So Sir Thomas harbours in his owne brest the author of his owne destruction.

Now Gresham growing into yeares, having spent much time, and many foule prayers to accomplish these things; at this time gathers all his bables, viz. pictures in lead, in wax, in plates of gold, of naked men and women, with crosses, crucifixes, and other implements, wrapping them all up together in a scarfe, crossed every letter in the sacred word, Trinitie crossed A: W: O: crossed: these being very holily delivered into the hands of one Weston to be hid in the earth, that no man might find them, and so in Thames street having finished his evill times, he dyed, leaving behind him a man and a maid, the one hanged for a Witch, the other for a Thiefe.

After his death with much writing many entreaties and rewards, one Francklin was entertained into these actions, a man of a reasonable stature, crook shouldred, of a swarthy complexion, and thought to be no lesse a Witch then the two former, Gresham and Forman; This man was more imployed to make poysons fit to be administred by Weston then otherwise; for he was excellent in that art, to mitigate or increase their strength, so that sometimes a poyson should be a moneth ere it should worke: Verily evill actions shall never want evill actors; and in all ages, Physitians, Apothecaries, Druggists, ashired Serving-men that have fallen into want, have still beene the agents in such enterprises. Tiberius his Physitian, Spado an Apothecarie, and Ligdo, Drusius Servant, are made agents to be his Poysoners. Neroes Bond-man must kill him, Pisoes Captaine under Germanicus must poyson him; and by the helpe of a woman, poysoner of Cowe, a towne in Gretia, who was so skilfull, that shee had poyson in his poyson, in his haire to kill himselfe; a Centurian to Maximus must poyson him, Alexanders Phisitian Antipater, and Aristotle must be the author of his owne death. And here Francklin a kind of Phisitian, Weston a Servant to Sir Thomas, and Sir Iervace Yeluis, who is, as hereafter you shall heare, Privado to the Earle and Viscount, and the Countesse and Mistris Turner are made instruments to kill and dispatch Sir Thomas Overbury: so that it hath beene almost in all ages, and in all such outrages sound, that either such persons or women have beene actors in such attempts.

Over ury being thus confined into the Tower, and accompted amongst them as a Fryer, a dead person in the Law, in whose brest many secrets were contained, being still fed on with hope of preferment and liberty, lest he should disclose what he knew. They at their will and pleasure carrouse full healths of sin and abomination, and freely discourse of a marriage to be consummated betweene the Countesse and Rochester, that so being tyed in this bond of matrimony, and joyned in affinity with my Lord of Northampton, more trust might be had in him, and better use might be made of his Honour and greatnesse.

Now there is none to support him, no man to disswade him, his loosenesse with the Countesse gaules his conscience, and that it might be the more offensive to him, and make him the willinger to consent unto this motion, he is still prest with it, and that it is both unfit and unseemely, whereas on the otherside, if they marry, it will be both lawfull, honourable, and commendable, and the eares of the vulgar will be then stopt, and none dares bee so bold as to touch it; This carries shew of truth, so that what with his former affection, what with his present offence that he conceives at these courses, concludes the marriage: Times are appointed to conferre, how impediments might be avoyded, and what should be fitting to be dome in this behalfe.

How the Lieutenant came acquainted with the businesse; Encouraged to persist by Northampton. Rewards promised him. Be examined Sir Thomas to find out his affection: Most thinke of Religion: Some think towards the Countesse.

IT is now high time to enter into this action, and the Countesse meanes to be the first, and for this purpose, shee went and got a glasse of blew water some two inches long, this being wrapped in a paper, shee delivers to Westons sonne with instructions, that he should go to the Tower and deliver it to his father; he doth so, who having his matter aforehand put into his head, at supper time takes the same in one hand, and part of Sir Thomas Overburies supper in the other hand, and who should he meet withall, but Sir Iarvace Yeluis the Lieutenant? So he demanded of him with a kind of caution, whether he should give it him now, the Lievtenant stopt, and asked him what? to which Weston answered, Sir, you know what is to be done: This made him stand in a maze, and doubt the worst, whereupon he cals Weston into examination, and makes him confesse all his intention, from what grounds, and of whom he received it, and partly the cause of it; he now being made a slave unto greatnesse, and having laid out much mony to purchase his place, for feare to lose the one, and to offend the other, lets Weston go with this caution to omit it for that time, whereas a wise man, rather then he would have run himselfe headlong into perdition, would have discovered, and have made them a meanes, to have manifested his faithfulnesse in his office.

But what shall we say to a man lost? The next day he is sent for to the Lord of Northampton: These after many long and large discourses, at length the Earle discloses to him his intention concerning Overbury, and with those things mingles many of his insolencies: First of his obstinacie against the Viscount, his insolencie against the Countesse, his opposition almost against all good men, and that for the causes of such a thing happened, there being none to look after him, it would passe unregarded, or unrespected, but withall gives him many cautions, how he should manage himselfe in the businesse, letting him understand what manner of man he was; a Scholler, and one that had an excellent tongue, and wit; a Traveller, experienced in the course of the world, and besides that favoured the contrary Faction, and as great a Polititian as any was this day in England; therefore in regard he ought to be the more wary, both who came to him, and who went from him, and above all, that no Letters passe to and fro: These and many other such like speeches having past betweene them, (for the Earle was two houres, by his owne confes ion, prompted him with cautions and considerations, that he might be the readier to act his part in this adventure he was to deale in.) Lastly, he concludes, that above all he should insinuate with him, to see how he stood affected to these proceedings, and what words he uttered from a heart full of thirst with griefe and sorrow, must either speake or burst, and his service and diligence herein shall be rewarded with a thousand pounds.

Whether it was the greedinesse of the reward, or the foolish desire he had to give content to the Earle and Viscount, they being his only Favourers, or some other hope still unknowne, but he by this meanes is brought to his owne destruction, and so gives consent to conceale that which was intended. At his comming back, he repaires to Sir Thomas Overbury, under pretence to comfort him in his sorrow, and adviseth him to be more lightsome, and not to consume himselfe with griefe; by this meanes entring into further discourse, secretly insinuates into his intentions; Sir Thomas having a good opinion of him, and supposing all was done out of faith and honesty towards him, having by this meanes learned what he could of him, writes unto the Lord of Northampton a Letter to this effect:

MY especiall good Lord, having undertooke my Prisoner, according to your instructions, after long silence, as standing betweene hope and fear, he takes his Bible, and after he had read upon it, and by it protested his innocencie; after upon further conference concerning the Countesse, he said that he had justified her already, and that hee could doe no more then what he had done. But for himselfe, alas (quoth he) what will they doe with mee? I answered, so reason you, as you shall make no question hereafter of your purenesse, and I left him in some sense to worke upon him. As I was going, he concluded, that in the generality, shee was so worthy, that shee might be a wife in particular or my Lord of Rochester, he would not say it, lest my Lord should condemne him, for weighing his worth.

At my next comming to him, I found him not in sense, but fury, He let fly at you, but was respective to my Lord of Rochester, whose part hee taketh altogether. I see the event, I desire it may be safely covered; what my service may doe you in this, or any thing else, I will be faithfull to your Lordship, and so I rest,

Jervace Yeluis.

These and many other things being inserted into this Letter was sent unto the Earle, which he read, and in reading laughs and smiles at the simplicity of the one, and ignorance of the other, neverthelesse, in outward appearance hee applauds all the actions of Sir Iervace, but especially to my Lord of Rochester, holding him both a discreet and wise man, and that his secrecie, and honest dealing in this imployment, deserves everlasting praises with after ages.

More Poysons are sent from the Countesse. Sir Thomas Monson is suspected to have a hand in the businesse. Overbury growes sickly; Iealous of his dyet; No accesse is suffered to him.

WEston having received 24l. of his allowance, and yet neverthelesse nothing accomplished according to the Countesse her expectation, is checkt by Mistris Turner for delaying it; whereupon he gets into his hands certaine Poysons, viz. Rosacre, white Arsnick, Mercury sublimate, Cantarides, red Mercury, with three or foure more severall poysons, tempering them with his broth and his mea , according as he saw them affected, increasing and diminishing their strength as he was instructed by his ancient friend Master Franklin, besides these, Tarts and Jellies are sent by the Viscount and Countesse to Sir Thomas Monson, as from thence by the hands of one Simon, master servant unto Sir Tho: to be delivered to Weston, and so to Overbury, every of which Tarts and Jellies were poysoned with a severall poyson.

These courses caused Sir Thomas Monson to be suspected of this act, and to have a hand in it: First, in respect he preferred Weston to his service: Secondly, poysoned Tarts and Jellies went out of his house: And lastly, for that he did not discover these things, his men only having accesse to the Tower, and that to speak with Weston. Now his salt, his meat, his drink, and whatsoever he eates is mingled with poyson, and for the increase of his torment, is increased or diminished, as the saw Sir Thomas Overbury affected.

By this meanes he begins to grow extreme sickly, having beene hereto ore accustomed to very good health; insomuch that he can s arce stand or goe, what with the paine of his body, and the heat: yet neverthelesse being a strong man, he stood it out a long time, till at length he begun to grow jealous of his man Weston, for his maladie increased or diminished, as he affected, but yet some Physick he desired, and at his speciall instance and request, and not without some gratitude as was thought, one Paule de la Bell an Apothecarie, by the advice of Doctor Marvin, brought a Bath to coole his body, with advice to be sparing of his dyet, for that he suspected that his meate was not wholsome: Surely this did him much good, and preserved his life longer then they expected, insomuch that they misdoubt some fallacy or fraud; and therefore send new Letters to the Lieutenant to have a speciall care that none may be suffered to see him or speak with him: for evill men are full of needlesse feares, and now there is such speciall watch had over him, that none of his men might be permitted so much liberty as to speak with him out at a Window; and the reason being asked, Answer was made, that the Lieutenant had commandment from the Councell that it should be so.

Thus the good gentleman passed away his tedious and sorrowfull dayes with many discontents, being filled with paines and griefe, without friends and comforters, ready to be vext and tormented upon every occasion, and consuming and languishing away without any common society that was allowed to the meanest Prisoner in the house; In this man may wee see the misery of such as fall into the hands of Popish Catholiques, for by Northamptons meanes was this strictnesse shewed towards him; here will wee leave him languishing in sorrow, and lamenting his misfortune.

The Marriage betweene the Viscount and the Countesse published; questioned whether it might be lawfull. A nullity obtained to make it lawfull. My Lord of Essex repayes the Portion. The Viscount made Earle of Somerset.

TIme can no longer conceale these secret meetings, but they must at length come to light: The Marriage betweene the Viscount and the Countesse is published, this is strange to the world, and so much the more strange, by how much three such great and eminent persons, as the Earle of Essex, the Countesse, and the Viscount were interessed in it: And now, according to the common course, every one speakes as he stands affected; some boldly, some sparingly, some call her a loose woman, and pities the good Earle of Essex, and say that he had sustained more wrong then ever any English Peer had done.

First, to suffer disgrace by the Prince, now by his wife, others blame her with words harsh and unseemly, a third sort Rochester; and that it is pity, but that shee should prove as bad a wife to him, as ever shee was to the Earle of Essex: then if Overbury had beene at liberty this had never happened. Others that were more stayed and judicious in their opinion, foresaw the ruine and downfall of Rochester by this meanes, but none durst speake of it. For who will put his finger into the fire, unlesse he be compelled; neverthelesse to stop the mouthes of the vulgar, this Marriage is called into question, whether it may be lawfull or not, because her Husband was then living: For this cause the Bishops of this Land were divided. By the opinion of some shee might, by the opinion of others she might not; my Lord of Canterbury, London, and many others were ut erly against it; But Winchester and Ely stood stiffely it might, provided a Nullitie might be had: for by that meanes the former Marriage should bee utterly determined.

A Nullity was obtained, and upon the grant of that, it was ordered that my Lord of Essex should repay her Portion that he received with her at his marriage, that so to the shew of the world it might be said, there had been no marriage betweene them. This afterwards was called into question, and thought a meere tricke of Northampton to discharge some of the greatest of the Clergie, and to discountenance our Religion, it left a foule scarre, and gave a foule occasion to the Adversary to speake broadly where they had liberty, and of some even in our Kingdome.

This Order being sent to my Lord of Essex, hee forthwith prep res for the repayment of five thousand pound, for so much hee had received with her; and for this purpose he sold and fell divers woods at Adderston, and neere thereabouts: His Grandmother the Countesse of Leicester helpt him much, or else he should have been constrained to sell much land to have paid it; verily a hard course, having sustained so many injuries.

The King neverthelesse continues his favour towards Rochester, and that he might be as eminent as the best, he is installed Earle of Somerset. Thus favours are heapt upon him, though hee little deserved them. And the Countesse what shee desireth, is still to be a Countesse, but called after another name, that is, Countesse of Somerset; many are the chances that happen in the world, some good, some bad, and those things we least suspect, do soonest happen to divert us.

At this time my Lord of Somerset little thought to have been laid in the Tower, and made heire of Overburies bed-chamber, but by this we may see, that all things are in the hands of God.

The Marriage comes to Overburies Eares. Hee prophesieth his owne death. He falleth into a relapse. He writes to the Earle to remember his promise. Answer is sent him with white Mercury, instead of a medicinable Powder. His death. The state of his body after his death. The Rumour th t is spread of him. The Authors Lamentation.

NOw although Sir Thomas Overbury was kept private, and that no man might have accesse to him; yet the newes of this Marriage comes to his eares, and presently upon hearing of it hee tels the messenger, that hee had almost as good have said to morrow he should die, for he was sure now not to live long; and thereupon fals into great lamentations, as well in regard of the Earle of Somerset, that he had so cast away his Fortunes, as of himselfe, for that now he more suspected his life, then ever heretofore. Whereupon he falls into a Relapse, and his malady increased every day more and more upon him, whether weakened with griefe, or for want of libertie, or through abstinencie; it is not unknown that the poyson had more power over him, then ever heretofore, in so much that he could scarce containe himselfe by reason of his extreme languishing away, as a man in a consumption: But with much more extremity; so that now being in this extremity, he thinkes it high time to put Somerset in mind of his promise. And for this purpose he writes a Letter to this effect.

RIght Noble and worthy Sir,

the ormer accustomed favours, and absolute promise concerning my present delivery, hath caused mee at this time by these lines to solicite your Lordship, and to put you in remembrance if the same, not doubting that your Honour is at all forgetfull of me, but only (by reason of my imprisonment) being possest of a dangerous disease, would for my bodies safety pertake of the felicity of the open aire; In which case, if your Lordship please to commiserate my present necessities, and procure mee my speedy delivery, I shall not only stand so much the more obliged, but also acknowledge you he defender and preserver of my life.

These lines (being subscribed) were sent to Somerset, and delivered into his owne hands, the messenger returnes answer, that presently he could not accomplish what he required, but willed him not to doubt, for shortly he should heare of his deliverance. Thus being fed with hopes, he akes new comfort to him, in the meantime Weston repaires to Mistris Turner for more of his pay, being in want, answer was made, that as soone as he had ended his imployment, he should not faile to receive it, but before then he must not expect any thing, whereupon he returnes, and enters into new designes, for in all this time, that is, from the one and twentieth of April, untill the beginning of September following, in the yeare 1613. Sir Thomas had held out: while he was thus pusling himselfe to bring this to perfection, Somerset sent him a Letter to this effect.

THat as yet the Court was busie about important businesse, and the Kings eare was not at leasure to entertaine any motion, but as soone as he could find opportunity hee would not faile to speake in his behalfe. In the meane time to ease the paine of his malady, he had sent him a soveraigne Powder, either to be eaten, or drunke, which Powder was rancke poyson. This feeds him still with hope, but brings him small comfort.

Now Weston had found out an unknowne Apothecary, and with him concludes for twenty pounds to administer a Glister, wherein should be put Mercury sublimate, the youth was to come to die it, Weston prepares it, perswades Sir Thomas that it will bee much for his health; whereupon about the fourteenth day of September, hee brings the said Apothecary to execute his office, assists him therein, and by the infusion thereof, he falls into a languishing disease with a paine in his guts, the next day ofter with extremity of paine he gave up the ghost.

After his death, Weston receives the rest of his pay, and dispatches the unknowne Apothecarie into France; After, it was given out, that Sir Thomas lived a base loose life in the Tower, and not according to that strictnesse as became a Prisoner, but being suffered to have too much libertie, he run into excesse of lasciviousnesse, so that thereby he got the Pox, and thereof dyed. This went for currant amongst some; amongst others that were ignorant some little respect had to it. But to others that sought narrower into the matter, they found it farre otherwise; for De la Bell the Apothecarie (before spoken of) having relation to him a little before his death, repor ed he was changed in his complexion, his body consumed away, and full of yellow blisters, (uglie to looke upon,) and it appeared by a Letter my Lord of Northampton wrote unto Rocheste , to pick a thank; That there was found in his arme ablister, and upon his belly twelve kirnells raised, not like to breake, each as broad as three pence, and as bigge as a small button, one issue upon his back, whereupon was a plaister from his shoulders downeward, of a dark tawnie colour, strange and uglie to behold; he stunck so intollerably, as was not to be borne withall, glad to be throwne into a loose sheer into his coffin, buryed without knowledge or privitie of his friends upon the Tower hill; at lasts he conclude , that God is gracious in cutting off ill instruments befor their time.

Some of the factious crew had a purpose, if he had got out, to have made some use of him, from whence may be gathered, how that Northampton held Protestans factious, and suspected Sir Thomas to have further knowledge of his secrets, then he would have had him, which was the cause, as was thought, besides the former evills that hastned his end, and caused him to be taxed with so great infamie, as to dye of the Pox. This passeth currant, and the mischefe lyes conceal'd, who dare to speake of it, two such great men having their hands in it?

Thus may wee see that good and bad men come to miserable ends, and oftentimes those that are vertuous do soonest suffer disgrace and contempt. This man before he came to Court, was brought up in all Gentlemanlike qualities: in his youth at Cambridge, after in the Middle Temple, there instructed in those qualities became a gentleman, by the intreatie of my Lord Treasurer Sir Robert Cecill, preferred to Court, found favour extraordinary, yet hindred of his expectation by some of his enemies, and to shift off discontents, forced to travell, and therein spent not his time, as most doe to losse; but furnished himselfe with things fitting a Statesman, by experience in forraigne governments, knowledge of the language, passages of imployment, externall courtship, and good behaviour, things not common to every man: notwithstanding such are the imperfections of our times, he is brought into ignomie and contempt, and all those good qualities obscured, by the disgracefull reproaches of a dissolute woman: What shall we then say, since that both vice and virtue do both end in miserie? he is most happy that liveth most private, for according to the saying of the Poet, Vitam, animas, operam, sumptus, impendimus aula, Praemia, pro meritis, quae retributa putas? Aula dedit nobis rescripta votata papiro, Et sine mente sonos, & sine corde manus. Paucos beavit, Aula plnres perdidit, Sed & hoc quoque ipsos, quos beavit pendebit. Our lusts, our soules, our wealth we spend In Court to purchase praise, But what reward is in the end For our deserts repaie? Their vowes and protestations deepe, Not prest in paper but in mind; Their sounds of words to lulls asleep, From body forc't, not from the mind; Hands there wee joyne, but not our hearts, Whereby it happeneth few are blest, And many thousand that resort Unto the Court, by it are lost. And of those few that blessed are, Wee often see there fall againe; Their blessed dayes they spend in care, And after end their lives in paine.

The complaint for want of treasure; The King sets many Lands to Fe Farme. That death of the Lord Harrington: The death of his sonne.

GReat summes of money being disbursed upon her Graces Wedding, and dayly imployments for others some for Ireland; The Lord Treasurer wanting there to defray ordinary expences, some for the Kings owne use, and some for other occasions, causes a great complaint for want of treasure: Officers at Court goe unpaid, and many of the Kings Servants receive not their wages at set times, so that the King is forced to set many of his Lands to Fee Farme, and the four Deputie Treasurers, with some few other, have the passing of them; now my Lord Harrington obtained a Patent for the making of brasse Farthings, a thing that brought with it some contempt, though lawfull; for all things lawfull are not expedient: who being injoyned to go into the Low-countries with her Grace, by the way lost his life. His sonne succeeded both in honour and Patent, and enjoyed them not long before he dyed: within short time after the hopefullest gentleman of that name, more fit for imployments, then for a private life; and for a Statesman, then for a Souldier: he had beene at Cambridge, there reputed for a great Scholler; he travelled into Italy, Venice, and France; he imployed his time for the most part in study, whereby he made himselfe apt for great matters. But yet it pleased God even then when he was in his greatest hope to cut off his dayes: He gave all that he had to the Countesse of Bedford his Sister, defeating her neither of the land, nor the right of the Barony, esteeming her to be worthy of much more then he had to leave. He made a worthy and godly end: These things coming so thick one after another, left no time for men to dreame of Overburies death.

The Earle of Somerset his conscience accuseth him; Northamptons speech to him: He becometh a newter in Religion. The Earle of Northamptons course.

A Nullitie being thus purchased, he dignified (as is said) and the ma ch concluded about Candlemas, 1614. they Marry with much joy and solemnitie; a Maske being performed at Somerset's charge, and many rumors passe without any respect; all these things nothwithstanding, a guiltie conscience can never goe without accusation; pensivenesse and fulnesse doe possesse the Earle, his wonted mirth forsakes him, his countenance is cast downe, he takes not that felicitie in company as he was wont to do, but still something troubles him: Verily it is a dangerous thing to fall within the compasse of a guilty conscience, it eateth and consumeth the soule of a man as rust doth Iron, or as beating waves hallowes the Rocks; and though these things are not made publique, yet neverthelesse Northampton observed it in him, having so admirable capacity, he could make use of all things; wherefore knowing his disease, viz. his mind feared with murther, and knowing the Earle tractable (as he desired) enters into more familiar discourse with him: For when the mind of a yong man is corrupted with evill, he runs headlong into sinne without stay or feare; wherefore amongst many other discourses, this falls betweene them. That in case the death of Sir Thomas Overbury should come to light, they were then in a most dangerous state. And the next thing they must expect is losse of life, goods, lands, honours, their names to be made scandalous to the world, and to conclude, to be branded with an ignominious death. Neither that there was any way left for to escape this, but either by making their owne fortunes so great, that he might oppose all accusations, or else being Catholiques, to endeavour that in defending them, they again might assist their cause in case that any matter came against them; this carrying some shew and likelihood of truth. And that indeed his case was desperate, if ever it should come to light, concludes to combine with No h •• pton in wh tsoever he should undertake, and in the conclusion became a e ter in Religion; whereupon, to the intent he might set further evills on foot, besides those before remembred, he begins to rip up the ancient quarrell betweene the Welch and the English, who now murmur at some discontents; and to the intent to hearten on the Irish, sends Letters thither by the hands of one Ha mon a poore man, unto such whom e knowes to be faithfull in the Romish Religion, and thereby confirmes them in their opinion, assuring them that God will still provide one or more to protect his Church, and that now the greatest Favourite in England would stand for them: upon which Letter the Irish grew obstinate, as I have said, and altogether neglect the service of God, and utterly deny the Oath of Supremacy, protesting losse of life and goods, rather then to be inforced to so damnable a thing.

Now wee see there the Church utterly forsaken, none to heare divine Service. The discipline of their owne Church established, and the Irish in generall expecting a day to have their libertie and freedome in Religion. The same man returning this newes, is after sent into Yorkeshire with a black staffe and a knob upon the end, within which knob, Letters are conveyed from place to place aswell for pointing Assemblies as meetings for Masse, and entertaining of Priests; now might a man goe to Masse in divers places of the City, and who were so publiquely favoured as Priests? Their number increase, their Priests are entertained, Confession in many places publiquely practised, and although it was contrary to the Law, yet greatnesse overcountenancing them, it was little regarded. In the meane time quarrells went forward betweene the Scottish and English, continuall complaints, and the suit of the Cloth-workers, with hope of obtaining their request, not so much because of the profit, as to raise up a discontent betweene the Duchie and them. These courses caused divers men to passe divers opinions, and many men to passe their opinion as they affected either parties.

The rumors of the Spanish Fleet. A Proclamation against Spanish money. A Leaguer in the Low-countries. The publique rumors against my Lord of Northampton. He exhibits a bill in the Starchamber against the publishers. They justified by my Lord of Canterburie's speech. The death of my Lord of Northampton; his Funerall; his Will. The names of those that succeeded him in his Offices.

NOt long after it was rumoured abroad, that the Spaniard had drawne out a Navie of Ships of an hundred Saile, but to what purpose no man knew; many suspected for England, because they were come so farre upon those Coasts; others said, for the use of the Marriners to accustome them to Sea: but most of all were of opinion, that these were but shadows, and that the Spaniard was to have taken advantage of the time. Howsoever upon this there followed a Proclamation against Spanish money, that their money should not go currant in England, which caused many to suspect worse then the worst, & some said one thing, some another: upon the neck of that comes wars in the Low-countries, some say against the Palsgrave, some against the State. The Scots begin to flie out in Rebellion, and are supprest. The wild Irish in Ireland begin to stirre, sometimes thirtie, sometimes fortie, sometimes three hundred flie out and stand upon their guard. These things minister occasion of wonder to the ignorant, and many of them, who knew the truth of things, knew not what to say to it. Priests come into the Kingdom by tens, fifteenes, twentie at a time, and have free accesse, so that my Lord of Northampton (being Warden of the Cinque Ports) begins to be called into question: Some say he hath a hand in those things; others say he lets Priests have their free accesse, and that in Bloomesberie amongst his owne buildings they have free harbour; others say, that through his countenance, thither any man might go to publique Masse, besides many other Intelligences being brought from beyond the Seas drawes him further into suspition, and the King begins to withdraw his favour from him, wherefore he exhibits his Bill against such as defamed him into the Starchamber: some are for this cause committed to the Tower, others to Newgate, others to the Fleete, till they come to their Answer. And in the end openly in the Star-chamber he is accused for suffering Priests to have free accesse into Yorkshire, under pretence of his Office, for countenancing them, for sending Letters to and againe to encourage men in their opinions, and many other such like things.

And when the Lords should come to passe their voyces, my Lord of Canterburie amongst the rest made a speech to this effect: [That although many have beene the rumours and reports that had passed in these times, some of them shut up for uncertaine truths and flying fables; then entertained for approved truths; yet neverthelesse such things are grounded upon reason, and for which, men of upright consciences have some occasion to speak, to have such either lightly valued or punished, was rather injustice then any way beseeming the equity of that Court: But in truth these whereof wee now speak are grounded upon some cause, and my Lords owne Letters make evident, that he hath done some things both against his owne conscience and meaning, meerly to attaine unto honour and soveraigntie, and to please the King:] And with that he pulls out a Letter written from my Lord to Cardinall Bellarmine to this effect:

THat howsoever the condition of the times compelled him, and His Majesty urged him to turne Protestant, yet neverthelesse his heart stood with the Papists, and that he would be ready to further them in any attempt. This and much more being read, to some purpose he proceeded, and shewed how that those things were not meerly uncertaine, but even the actions that followed them did justifie them to be true. For there was never knowne to be so many Priests to come over into this Kingdome in so short a time as of late there had done, neither could he assure himselfe that my Lord was true hearted unto the State. Also he harboured such about him as would undertake to write in defence of the Gunpowder Treason.

This and much more being said, about the latter end of Easter Terme, in the yeare 1614. my Lord being hereat much discouraged, after the Court brake ooke his Barge, went to Greenewich, there made his Will, wherein he published himselfe to dye in the Faith he was Baptized, made some of his Servants his Executors, others he bestowed gifts upon; his faire house he disposed to my Lord Chamberlaine, his Lands to my Lord Theophilus Howard; retired back to his house at London, and before Midsommer Terme following was dead.

Many were the rumours that were raised of this man after his death. That he was a Traytor to the State, and that he was not dead, but carryed beyond Sea to blind the world, and the reason was, because he would be buryed at Dover, and not at London.

Others say, that if he had lived, he would have beene the author of much stirre; many dislike him, and as was reported, even the King himselfe towards his latter end, which made him to fall into these courses: but truly, he was a notable polititian, and carryed things more commodiously for the Papists then ever any before him. His Funerall was kept privately at Rochester, where he desired to be buryed, because it was the chiefe Port Towne of his Office, without any state to outward appearance. My Lord Treasurer that now is succeeded him in his Treasurership. My Lord of Somerset made Chancellor of Cambridge. My Lord Zouch Warden of the Cinque Ports. My Lord of Worcester some short time after Lord privie Seale. These succeeded him in his Offices.

The Cloth-workers obtaine their Petition. The old Charter of the Merchant adventurers is seized into the Kings hands. The Dutch grow discontented at it. The doubtfulnesse of Somerset's mind. He sues for his pardon; obtaines it. My Lord Chancellor refuseth to seale it. Falls into suspition. Begins to be neglected.

THe Cloth-workers still persisting in their suit, and having such strong friends to stand for them, and Alderman Cocking a rich Merchant to back them, they at length obtained what they desired, and Proclamation goes forth, that no more white Cloth shall goe over undied, undrest, and for this purpose the old Charter of the Merchants Ad enturers is seized into the Kings hands, so that the Company fall to decay. Now the Dutchmen they begin to murmur ag inst the English, and make Proclamation there, that no man shall buy any such Cloths as come over so drest and dyed; wh reupon, the English make a new Proclamation, that no man shall tr nsport Wooles out of the Kingdome. These things fed some with hope of some further troubles, yet neverthelesse it is so ordered by the Councell, that all things are pacified, and some quantity amounting to a certaine number of white Cloths are suffered to be transported, aswell to give content to the Hollander, as satisfaction and imployment to some yong Merchants that had entred into this Trade, by which meanes these clamors are a little stayed; yet neverthelesse great impression of envie is betweene these two Countries.

Now one of the greatest friends that Somerset had being dead, and himselfe still jealous of his safety, he begins to cast about how he might avoid the danger of the Law, for his intelligencers gave him notice of many desperate words that were uttered concerning Overburie's death; whereupon, finding the King in a good humour, he moves him to this effect: That whereas it had pleased His Majesty to commit many things into his charge, and some of them proving something too waighty for him to undergoe, it was so, that ignorantly he run himselfe into a Praemunire, whereby he had forfeited to him both his lands, goods and libertie, and that he came now to surrender them all up into His Majesties hands, unlesse it pleased him of his wonted favour towards him to grant him pardon for that, and many other offences that he had ignorantly committed. The King still bearing a good affection towards him, bid him draw his pardon and he would signe it: whereupon, he makes his repaire to Sir Robert Cotton, and entreats him to looke him a pardon, the largest he could find in former presidents; so he brings him one that was made by the Pope to Cardinall Woolsey. The effect of which was.

That the King of his meere motion and speciall favour, did pardon all, and all manner of Treasons, misprisions of Treason, Murders, Felonies and outrages whatsoever by the said Sir Robert Carre Earle of Somerset committed, or hereafter to be committed; with many other words to make it more ample and large according to forme, which he caused to be drawne and ingrossed, and brought it into the King. The King signed it; at length it comes to my Lord Chancellor's hand, he peruses it, and refuseth to let it passe the Seale. My Lord askes the reason, answer was made, That he could not justifie the doing of it, but that he should incurre a praemunire as well as himselfe. This struck Somerset to the heart, and now he was in greater doubt, then ever he was before, for still he is stung with feare to be touched with Overburies death, and so very pensively retires to White-hall, and there remaines.

The King coming to London, my Lord Chancellor acquainted him with the Pardon, and shewed the King what danger he had incurred, in case he had sealed it. The King perceiving the truth of the businesse, suspecting some greater matter then he knew of, withdrawes his countenance from Somerset, who now wanting vertue to support his greatnesse, without the Kings favour falls into the contempt of many, and those that are his enemies neglect him, and doe as it were deride his manner of carriage, by which meanes he runnes headlong into his owne perdition, as shall be hereafter shewed.

My Lord Chancellour sued in the Star-thamber, for being within the compasse of a Premunire. The King goes to Cambridge. A breach about Ignoramus. My Lord Coke stands against my Lord Chancellor. The King graces Sir George Villers; Bestowes great honours upon him. Somersets courses to conceale Overburies death. His covetousnesse; His insolencie. He is crost by Villers. The report of the vulgar.

IN this yeare (1614) the King, by the entreaty of Somerset, determined to go to Cambridge, and there was entertained with great solemnity, but amongst the rest, there was a Play called by the name of Ignoramus, that stirred up a great contention betweene the common Lawyers and the Schollers, in so much as their flouts grew unsufferable, but at last it was stayed by my Lord Chancellour, and the explaining of the meaning.

About this time it happened, that divers Citizens having recovered certaine summes of money in the Kings Bench, and thereof having had Judgement against the party Defendant, neverthelesse exhibites his Bill into the Chancery to have reliefe of the Plaintiffes at the Common-law, having already had Judgement of the same matter, there stands out, and disobeyes the Kings Processe; whereupon a Writ of Contempt issues against them, they are taken, committed to the Fleet, and there continue in their obstinacy; neverthelesse, not long after, upon some advice, they exhibit their Bill into the Star-chamber against my Lord, intending that hee ought not to intermeddle with any matter that were already determined at the Common-law, and whereof a Judgement had been passed: And this was ordained by the Statute of 4. H. 4. cap. 23 whereby it was enacted, that Judgement given in the Kings Court, shall not be examined in Chancery, Parliament, or else-where, untill it bee undone by attaint, or errour, &c. Now my Lord having laid them fast up upon a Bill exhibited before him, and Judgement being already given, that therefore my Lord had incurred a Premunire, and humbly prayed reliefe in this case. Many were the opinions of Lawyers concerning this matter; some stood on my Lord Chancellors side, some said the poore men had injury, and that they might justifie what they had done; and amongst many my Lord Coke stood out very stiffely, that my Lord Chancellor could not justifie that action. And thus it stood still in question whether my Lord be in a Premunire, or no.

My Lord of Somerset continuing still in his loose courses, and utterly neglecting that severity that ought to be in a man of his place, besides the former suspitions and jealousies, gives occasion of others also, whereby the King doth more and more fall into dislike: There being at this time about the Court a young Gentleman, that not long before had arrived from Travels out of France, his name was Villers, a Leicester-shire Gentleman, and of an ancient House, who as well in respect of carriage, as of his countenance, was more remarkable then many others. On this man the King casts a particular affection, holding him to be the onely properest and best deserving Gentlemen of England; whereupon he entertained him into favour, bestowes a thousand pound upon him, after adornes him with the title of Knighthood. And now he begins to grow every day more eminent then other, greater honours are bestowed upon him, as the dignitie to be Knight of the Garter, and Master of the Horse; places not common to every person, and so much the more remarkable, because they are bestowed upon him, being so yong in yeares, his wisdome is commended of the wisest, and his expectations greater then many that went before him.

This stings Somerset to the heart, to see another step to his place, he more feares his subversion and downfall; wherefore hee goes about to circumvent danger, and for this purpose sends into France to make away the Apothecary that administred the Phisicke that killed Sir Thomas, endeavouring to get in all Letters and writings that had past concerning the businesse, and disgracing and discountenancing all such as at any time once spake of the death of Overbury, to the intent that it might be concealed and kept close; but what God will have disclosed, sh ll never be concealed: messengers are sent from place to place, he being a Privie Councellor, (and in favour) his Warrant passes currant, so that in all places, Truncks, Chests, Boxes, Studies, Daries, and such houses wherein he suspected any Letters or other matters that appertained to that mischief lay hid, were broken open and se rched, to the intent that they might bring some writings to my Lord, yet neverthelesse many (and more then were dreamt on) of those Letters, came to my Lord of Canterburies hand, and my Lord Coke , so that those courses makes him rather more suspected, then any whit at all eases his griefe.

At home in his Office using extraordinary covetousnesse and parcimony, hee thereby heaped up to himselfe great store of mony, and would not undertake any enterprise without he was well rewarded for his pai es, every new occasion and occurrence that came to his hands, brought him in also a fleece of mony. Offices in Court that lay in his gift nor bestowed without mony, the Kings letters not purchased without mony, no Pardon without mony, so that he was as great a Bribe-taker as his Mother the Countesse of Suffolk, and many Rumours and hard Reports were spread on him for the same, yet neverthelesse he still continued his favour in despight (as a man may say) of his opposites, even unto the greatest dignity, which caused him to be as proud as covetous, and to commit as many Insolencies as he had received sesecret Bribes, thought it no matter to leane on the Cushion in publique o check some of the Nobility; and amongst the rest to make a flat breach with my Lord of Canterbury, a grave and reverend Gentleman, one of the Pillars of this Kingdome, and that could discerne the follies of this young man. Thus admiring of his owne worth, he works his own subversion, and by these insolencies plucking more evils upon his head, and daily adding more enemies, to those that before he had deserved.

These things laying him open to the envie of the greatest; and Sir George Villers seeing his exceeding covetousnesse, having now the eares of the King, would oftentimes crosse his expectations, as it is credibly reported, and deceive him of many a bribe which hee hoped for, doing those things voluntarily, and for a thanke, which my Lord would not have spoken of without much money. These courses laid him open to the contempt of the vulgar also: And now all men according to their custome, began to exclaime of his great extortion. Thus may we see him falling.

Overburies death called into question. Weston sent or, and by my Lord Coke examined, stands out; Upon my Lord of Londons perswasion confesseth all. The Earle and Countesse attached, they deny the deed. Sir Thomas Monson committed to the Tower. Sir Walter Rawleigh and the Countesse of Shrewsbury set at liberty. The death of the Lady Arbella. The conviction of the Earle and Coun esse: The manner of their Arraignment, and the many rumours that were spread upon these things.

THe death of Overbury having now lyen consealed about two yeares, and the Earles insolencie growing every day greater then other, procures him many more enemies, as is said, yet there was no man that was so hardy, for feare of the Kings displeasure, (hee carrying a very good affection still towards him) to make him acquainted with it, or bring it to the triall of the Law. At last, for divers are the rumours how it was discovered; one was, that Sir Thomas Overburies man petitioned to my Lord Coke, and the substance of the petition was, to let his Lordship understand, that whereas his Master had been committed to the Tower by the consent of Northampton and Somerset, and there languishing to death unnaturally; that if it pleased his Lordship to call one Weston before him, he might gather that out of him that might discover the whole plot and practise. Others say that my Lord of Canterbury having conceived, (as is said) some dislike against Somerset, and willing to make himselfe gracious with the King, possessed Sir Ralph Wimrood with the businesse (one that was preferred to be Secretary under my Lord of Somerset, and to assist him) and lets him understand the whole matter, as hath been related, and that many Letters came unto his hands, and presumptious therein that it should be true: And there remained a Truncke in such a place, wherein many writings were contained, that would make evident the truth. Sir Ralph being willing likewise to become more emi ent with the King, possest him with the businesse, and proceeding upon a confident ground; Warrant was sent to my Lord Coke to prosecute the matter. Others say, that by the losse of a Letter it was disclosed: And divers opinions there were how it should come to light, it having been kept close so long; For things of this nature when they are so long concealed, bring more wonder; but howsoever it was made knowne, my Lord Coke by vertue of his warrant sent for Wes on to come before him, and examined him upon divers articles concerning this subject, and perswaded him, entreated him, and threatned him to tell the truth; Weston stood out, and would not, thus he persisted some weeke or fortnight, many men urged him to it; Accusers were brought before him, and deposed upon their oathes, that whatsoever was objected against him was true; this little prevailed.

At last, my Lord of London went to him, and by his perswasions tels all how Mistris Turner, and the Countesse came acquainted, what relation sh e had to Witches, Sorcerers, Conjurers, that Northampton, Somerset, Francklin, the Monsons, and Yeluis had their hands in that bu inesse, whereupon they were all apprehended, some sent t the To er, others to Newgate, having thus con e •• this e ill b ••• g convicted according to the course of Law, he was had to Tiburne to be hanged, and there Sir Hi les and others im gining this to be but a able, and that he was hired to accuse those p r ••• s, (for who almost would have beleeved it) examines him at the Gallowes, and upon his examination hee justified what he had done to the great wonder of all tho e that stood by and heard it. After him Mistris Tu ner, after her F an klin, then Sir Ierva •• Yeluis, upon their Arraignments of the Fact , were found guiltie, and hanged, all very penitent and sorrowfull for what was done.

To write t e particulars of their arraignments, confessions, and the manner of their deaths is needlesse, being common: Now the Countesse and the Earle are attached, and committed to protection, one to the Deane of Westminster, the other to the Sheriffe of London, and according to the course of such case , there are great reports raised, watch and ward kept more then ordinary, and the guard more observant: This makes the King stand at a maze, and to imagine there is no truth in men, growes more jealous of himselfe then heretofore, because his onely favourite, and that (as it were) in his bosome, should be intrapt in such an evill: And the ongues of the vulgar began to walke, some say that Northampton and Somerset had combined with the Spaniard for a summe of money to deliver them up the Navie, and that Sir William Monson, Vice-Admiral, should have done it the next Spring: That the King and the whole State should have been poysoned at the C •• istni g of the Countesse child, (for shee was then with child) and m ny more the like rumours were spread not worth the speaking, to the intent to incense the people the more against them, and to make the matter the more hainous and grievous to the world. At this time the Lady Arbella died, a matter more remarkable then was observed, and gave some occasion of speech to many, but yet neverthelesse past over in silence.

These Hurly-burlies being growne somewhat calme, and the minds of men a little setled, the Countesse and others authorised for that purpose to be examined, and my Lord Coke was the man that prest the Evidence against them, which (as it was thought) procured some great enemies, two and twenty Articles were objected against them, Somerset pleaded Ignorance, and that these Objections were meere tricks to intrap him, and set the King against him; The same answer was in the Countesse, and that it might rather seeme to proceed out of envie, then for any just cause. They cause it to be given out, that their accusations were wrong ull, and none were accused but such as were the greatest Favourites to the King, so that there was much ado to little purpose. At last, when they heard that Weston, Turner, Francklin, and Yeluis were all hanged, and that they had confest the matter, the Countesse being brought before the Councell, confest the whole truth, but Somerset stood to it still, that he was not agent in it, and that these accusations did nothing touch him, and therefore ought to be excused.

Neverthelesse his lands and goods were committed to custodie, part to my Lord Treasurer, and part to others to the Kings use: The Money, Plate, and Jewels which he had heaped up together, amounted, by report, unto 200000. pounds, his lands 19000. pounds per annum, and the King bestowed many of them upon the Prince. There was little speech of this, in respect that both person and matter, wherein hee was agent, were both envied, and facinerous, nei her was there any that pitied him, but most said, that hoe had but his just deserts, for the injuries and wrongs that he offered unto Essex.

The Arraignment was put off, and in the meane time Sir Walter Rawleigh was set at liberty. This man had continued in the Tower now almost ten yeares a condemned person, for a plot intended against his Majesty at his first comming in; he bore a great envie against Somerset, because he had begged his lands of the King, and got it into possession, giving him many quips and taunts, during the time that he was in the Tower. These two accidents happening beyond expectation, that the one being the speciall favourite of the King, the other a condemned man, the one imprisoned, the other set at liberty, gave great occasion of speech and rumour, and so much the more wonder and admiration, because of Rawleighes wit and policie.

And this yeare also the Countesse of Shrewsbury, who was committed for being privie to the escape of the Lady Arbella, was set at liberty, and the Earle her husband dyed, leaving the greatest part of his land unto his daughters; during all this time, that is, from Michaelmas Terme, unto the short vacation, betweene Easter and Trinity Terme, the Arraignment was put off; some attributed the cause to be, for because the Countesse was with child, and in the meane time was delivered of a daughter; some that further proofes of incertainties might be brought in; others to give them longer time to consider on the matter, and that it was a great favour; I say, these rumours being published amongst the people; at length the King authorised my Lord Chancellor to be High Steward of England for the time being, and joyned eight of his Judges with him for his assistance, viz. The foure Judges of the Kings Bench, my Lord Chiefe Justice of the Common Pleas, Justice Niccols, my Lord Chiefe Barron, and others of the Barrons, with power to call Somerset and the Countesse before them, to shew cause why they should not have sentence of death passed upon them for this offence committed, both against the Laws of the Land, and against the King, his Crowne and Dignity. So upon the foure and twentieth of May, in this yeare 1616. There being a Seat Royall placed at the upper end of Westminster-hall, a little short of the Kings Bench, and seats made round about it, for the rest of the Justices and Peeres to sit on, and a little cabbin built close by the Common Pleas, for the Prisoners, when they came from the Tower to be put to rest them in: They proceed to the triall after this manner. As soone as my Lord High Steward, with great State, came into Westminster-hall, with his assistants the Judges, divers Lords and Gentlemen attending, and foure Serjants at Armes before him, ascending a little gallery made of purpose to keep off the croud, he takes his seat, and the rest of the Assistants and Peeres, according to their places. This being done, after silence proclaimed, one of the Harrolds at Armes reaches the High Steward his Patent, and delivers it to the Clerke of the Crown to reade it; After Sir Ralph Conis y reaches him his staffe, and i there present, according to his place, to give attendance.

After the Patent read, and proclamation for silence, and that the accusers should come in, the Prisoners were sent for by the Clerke of the Checker, whose office it was to attend the Prisoners: This being done, and the Prisoners placed at the Barre, Sir Henry Fanshaw reades the Indictment, to which the Countesse pleaded guilty, and confessed the fact: But Somerset pleaded not guilty, and had time from ten of the clock at night to cleare himselfe; much was said, but to little purpose: At last, the Peeres having conferred of the matter, returne their verdict, laying their hands upon their brests, and swearing by their Honours (for they doe not m ke an Oath as ordinary Jurors do) that he was guilty of the murther, and poysoning of Sir Thomas Overbury; whereupon my Lord High Steward pronounced sentence of death ag inst him; and so he was had back to the Tower, where hee remaineth at the mercy of the King. This man may justly say, as Pope Barbaressa said when hee was put from the Popedome. Qui modo summus eram laetatus nomine praecel Tristis & abjectus, nunc mea fata gemo Excelsus solio nuper versa ar in alto Cunctaque gens pedibus oscula prona dabant Nunc ego poenarum sundo devulvor in imo Vultum deformem pallidaque ore gero Omnibus e terris aurum mihi sponte ferebant, Sed nec gaesa juvet, nec quis amicus adest. Sic varians fortuna vices adversa secundis Su dit & ambiguis nomine ludit atr Cedit in exemplum cunctis quos gloria tollit, Vertice de summo mox ego Papa cado. Loe here I am that sometime tooke delight in name of Pope, Now being sad and abject doe bewaile my fate and hope Of late preferr'd, I did converse with stately pompe and grace, And every Nation to my feet their ready kisses place: But now in dungeon deepe am throwne of paines in mortall feare A countenance pale, a body leane, deform'd with griefe I beare, From all parts of the earth they brought me gold without constraint; But now no gold, nor precious stones, nor friends can ease my plaint. So variable Fortune is so nice to great attempts, So subject and so doubtfull too, so adverse in events, That Atis with our name doth play as with a tennis ball, For being lifted up with fame, the greater is our fall: Let this example be to such, whom Fortune doth advan e. That they, as I by Popedome fell, may fall by like mischance.

For we cannot reade of any that ever was so great a Favourite as Somerset, neither the Spencers with Edward the second, nor the Earle of Warwick with Henry the sixth, nor the Duke of Suffolke with Henry the eighth, as this man was with the King; neither was there any that ever came to so sodaine and unexpected a fall.

They therefore that do but rightly consider this Discourse, shall find in it three things worthy observation.

First, that neither honour nor wealth, are any certaine inheritance, but occasions (unlesse God be mercifull unto us) for the devill to pick a quarrell against us, to bring us to infamie.

Secondly, that God neuer leaves murther (though never so closely carried) unpunished.

Lastly, that there was never knowne in so short a time, so many great men dye with suspition of poyson and witchcraft; viz. First, my Lord Treasurer, the Prince, my Lord Harrington, his sonne, Overbury, Northampton, besides these which are no lesse then six other within three yeares and an halfe, and the two Monsons which yet remaine untryed.

Sir Francis Bacon his Speech at the Arraignment of the Earle of Somerset.

IT may please your Grace, my Lord High Steward of England, and you my Lords the Peeres, you have here before you Robert Earle to be tryed for his life, concerning the procuring and consenting to the impoysonment of Sir Thomas Overbury, then the Kings Prisoner in the Tower of London, as an Accessary before the Fact.

I know your hopes connot behold this Noble man, but you must remember the great favours which the King hath conferred on him, and must be sensible, that he is yet a member of your body, and a Peere as you are, so that you cannot cut him off from your body but with griefe, and therefore you will expect from us, that give in the Kings Evidence, sound and sufficient matter of proofe to satisfie your Honours and consciences.

As for the manner o the Evidence, the King our Master who (amongst other his vertues, excelleth in that vertue of the Imperial Throne which is Justice) hath given us command that wee should not expatiate nor make invectives, but materially pursue the Evidence, as it conduceth to the point in question.

A matter, that (though we are glad of so good a warrant) yet we should have done of our selves; for far be it from us by any strains, or wit of Arts, to seeke to play prizes, or to bl son our names in bloud, or to carry the day otherwise then upon sure grounds; wee shall carry the Lanthorne of Justice, (which is the Evidence) before your eyes upright, and to be able to salve it from being put out with any grounds of evasion or vaine defences, that is our parts, and within that we shall containe our selves, not doubting at all, but that the Evidence it selfe will carry that force, as it shall need no advantage, or aggravation.

First, my Lords, the course that I will hold in delivering of that which I shall say, (for I love order) is this: First I will speak somewhat of the nature and greatnesse of the offence, which is now to be tryed, not to weigh downe my Lord with the greatnesse of i , but rather contrariwise to shew, that a great offence needs a good proofe. And that the King howsoever he might esteeme this Gentleman heretofore as the Signet upon his finger (to use the Scripture phrase) yet in s ch a case as this, he was to put him off.

Secondly, I will use some few words touching the nature of the proofes, which in such a case are competent.

Thirdly, I will state the proofes.

And lastly, I will produce the proofes, either out of examination, and matters of writing, or witnesses viva voce.

For the offence it selfe, it is of crimes next unto high Treason the greatest, it is the foulest of Felonies: It hath three degrees of stages. First, it is murther by impoysonment. Secondly, it is murther committed upon the Kings prisoner in the Tower. Thirdly, I might say that it is murther under the colour of Friendship, but that it is a circumstance morall, and therefore I leave that to the Evidence it selfe.

For murther, my Lords, the first record of Justice which was in the world, was judgement upon a murtherer, in the person of Adams first borne Ca •• e, and though it was not punished by death, but with banishment, and marke of ignominy, in respect of the primogenitors, or the population of the world, yet there was a severe charge given, that it should not go unpunished.

So it appeareth likewise in Scripture, that the murther or Abner by Ioah, though it were by David respited in respect of great services past, or reason of State, yet it was not forgotten.

But of this I will say no more, because I will not discourse, it was ever admitted and rancked in Gods owne Tables, that murther is of offences, betweene man and man next unto high Treason, and disobedience to Authority, which sometimes have been referred to the first Table, because of the Lieutenancie of God in Princes the greatest.

For impoysonment, I am sorry it should be heard of in our Kingdome; It is not nostri generis, nec sanguinis peccatum; It is an Italian com it for the Court of Rome, where that person that intoxicateth the Kings of the earth, is many times really and materially intoxicated and impoysoned himselfe. But it hath three circumstances, which makes it grievous beyond other matters: The first is, that it takes a man away in full peace in Gods and the Kings peace, that thinks no harme, but is comforting of nature with resection and food, so that as the Scripture saith, His table is made a snare.

The second is, that it is easily committed, and easily concealed, and on the other side ha dly prevented, and hardly discovered; for murther by violence Princes have Guards, and private men have houses, attendants, and armes, neither can such murther be committed, but cum sonitu with some overt and apparant acts, that may discover and trace the offenders; but for poyson, the cup it selfe of Princes wil scarse serve in regard of many poisons that neither discolour nor distaste; It comes upon a man when he is carelesse, and without respect; and every day a man is within the gates of death.

And the last is, because it concerneth not onely the destruction of the maliced man, but of every man, quis modo tutu erit, for many times the poyson is prepared for one, and is taken by another, so that men dye other mens deaths, Concidit infelix alieno vulnere, and it is as the Psalmist calleth it, Sagitta no •• e volans, The arrow that flyeth by night, that hath no ayme nor certainty; and therefore if any man shall say to himself, here is great talke of impoysonment, but I am sure I am safe, for I have no enemies, neither have I any thing another man should long for, why? that is all one, hee may sit next him at the table, that is meant to be impoisoned, and pledge him of his cup: As we may see in the example of 21. H. 8. that where the purpose was to poyson one man, there was poyson put into barme or yeast, and with that barme, pottage or grewell was made, whereby sixteene of the Bishop of Rochesters servants were poysoned; nay, it went into the alms-basket likewise, and the poore at the gate were poysoned. And therefore with great judgement did the Statute made that year touching this accident, made impoisonment high Treason, because it tends to the dissolving of humane societie, for whatsoever offence doth so, is in the nature thereof high Treason.

Now for the third degree of this particular offence, which is, that it is committed upon the Kings prisoner, who was out of his owne defence, and meerely in the Kings protection, and for whom the King and the State were a kind of respondent; it is a thing that aggravates the fault much, for certainly (my Lord of Somerset) let me tell you this, that Sir Thomas Overbury is the first man that was murthered in the Tower of London, save the murther of the two young Princes, by the appointment of Richard the third.

Thus much of the offence, now to the proofes.

For the nature of proofes, you may consider that imprisonment, of all offences is the most secret, even so secret, as that if in all cases of imprisonment, you should require testimony, you should as good proclaime impunity.

Who could have impeached Livia by testimony, for the poysoning of the sigges upon the tree, which her husband was wont to gather with his owne hands; who could have impeached Parasetis for the poysoning of the one side of the knife shee carried with her, and keeping the other side cleane, so that her selfe did eat of the same peece of meat that they did, whom shee did impoyson.

These cases are infinit, and need not to be spoken of the secresie of impoysonment, but wise men must take upon them in these secret cases Salomons spirit, that when there could be no witnesses, collected the act by the affection: But yet we are not at our cause, for that which your Lordships is to trie, is not the act of impoysonment, for that is done to your hands; all the world by Law is concluded to say, that Overbury was poysoned by Weston, but the question before you is of the procurement onely, and as the Law termeth it as accessary before the fact, which abetting is no more, but to doe or use any act or meanes which may aide or conduce to the impoisonment.

So that it is not the buying nor the making of the poyson, nor the preparing, nor confecting, nor commixing of it, or the giving or sending, or laying of the poyson, that are the only acts that doe amount unto the abetment; but if there be any other act, or meanes done, or used to give opportunity of impoysonment, or to facilitate the execution of it, or to stop or divert any impediments that might hinder it, and that it be with an intention to accomplish and atchieve the impoysonment; all these are abetments and accessaries be ore the fact: As for example, if there be a conspiracie to murther a man as he journeyeth on the way, and it be one mans part to draw him forth to that journey by invitation, or by colour of some businesse; and another taketh upon him to disswade some friend, of his company, that he be not strong enough to make his defence; and another hath a part to hold him in talke till the first blow be given; all these, my Lords, without scruple are accessaries to the murther, although none of them give the blow, nor assist to give the blow.

My Lords, he is not the hunter alone that lets slip the dog upon the Deere, but he that lodgeth him, and hunts him out, or sets a traine or trap for him, that he cannot escape, or the like.

But this, my Lords, little needeth in this case, for such a chaine of acts of impoisonment as this, I thinke were never heard nor seene.

And thus much of the nature of the Proofes.

To descend to the Proofes themselves, I shall keep this course.

First, I will make a narration of the fact it selfe.

Secondly, I will breake and distribute the proofes as they concerne the Prisoner.

And thirdly, according to the distribution, I will produce them, or reade them to use them.

So that there is nothing that I shall say, but your Lordships shall have three thoughts or cogitations to answer it.

First, when I open it, you may take your ayme.

Secondly, when I distribute it, you may prepare your answers without confusion.

And lastly, when I produce the witnesses, or the examinations themselves, you may againe ruminate, and readvise to make your defence.

And this I do because your memory and understanding may not be oppressed, or overladed with length of evidence, or with confusion of order; nay more, when your Lordships shall make your answer in your time, I will put you in mind where cause shall be of your omission.

First, therefore Sir Thomas Overbury for a time was knowne to have great interest and streight friendship with my L. of Somerset, both in his meaner fortunes, and after, in so much that he was a kind of oracle of direction unto him, and if you will beleeve his owne vaunts, (being indeed of an insolent and thrasenicall disposition) he tooke upon him that the fortunes, reputation, and understanding of this Gentleman (who is well knowne to have an able teacher) proceede f om his company and counsell, and this friendship rested not only in conversation and businesse at Court, but likewise in communication of secrets of Estate, for my Lord of Somerset exercising at that time by his Majesties speciall favour and trust, the Office of Secretary provisicually, did not orbeare to acquaint Overbury with the Kings Packets, and dispatches from all p •• ts of Spaine, France, and the Low-countries; and this not by glimses, or now and then rounding in the eare for a favour, but in a setled manner Packets were sent, sometimes opened by my Lord, sometimes unb oken unto Overbury, who perused them; copied them, registred them, made table talke of them, as they thought good. So I will undertake the time was, when Overbury knew more of the Secrets of Estate then the Councell Table did; nay, they were growne to such inwardnesse, as they made a play of all the world besides themselves, so as they had Cyphers and Jurgons for the King and Queene, and great men of the Realme, things seldome used, but either by Princes or their Confederates, or at the least by such as practise and worke against, or at the least, upon Princes.

But understand mee, my Lord, I shall not charge you with disloyaltie this day, and I lay this for a foundation, that there was great Communication of Secrets betweene you and Sir Thomas Overbury, and that it had relation to matter of State, and the great causes of this Kingdome.

But my Lords, as it is a principle in Nature, that the best things are in their corruption the worst, and the sweetest wine maketh the sowrest vinegre; so fell it out with them, that this excesse, as I may say, of friendship ended in mortall hatred on my Lord of Somersets part.

I have heard my Lord Steward say sometimes in the Chanc ry, that Frost and Fraud ends soule; and I may adde a third, and that is the Friendship of ill men, which is truly said to be conspiracie, and not friendship. For it fell out some twelve moneths or more before Overbury his imprisonment in the Tower, that the Lord of Somerset sell into an unlawfull love towards that unfortunate Ladie, the Countesse of Essex, and to proceed to a Marriage with Somerset; This Marriage and purpose did Overbury mainly impugne under pretence to doe the true part of a friend, for that hee accompted her an unworthy woman.

But the truth was, Overbury, who (to speake plainly) had little that was sollide for Religion or morall vertue, but was wholly possest with ambition, and vain-glory, was loath to have any partners in the favour of my Lord of Somerset, and especially not any of the House of the Howards, against whom he had alwayes professed hatred and opposition.

And, my Lords, that this is no sinister construction, will appeare to you, when you shall heare, that Overbury made his brags to my Lord of Somerset, that he had won him the love of the Lady by his Letters and industrie; so far was he from cases of conscience in this point.

And certainely, my Lords, howsoever the tragicall misery of this poore Gentleman, Overbury, might somewhat obliterate his faults, yet because wee are not upon points of civilitie, but to discover the face of Truth before the face of Justice, for that it is materiall to the true understanding of the state of this cause. Overbury was naught and corrupt; the ballads must be mended for that point.

But to proceed, when Overbury saw that hee was like to be possessour of my Lords Grace, which hee had possessed so long, and by whose greatnesse he had promised himselfe to doe wonders, and being a man of an unbounded and impudent spirit, hee began not onely to disswade, but to deterre him from the love of that Lady, and finding him fixed, thought to find a strong remedie; supposing that hee had my Lords head under his girdle, in respect of communication of Secrets of State, as he calls them himselfe secrets of Nature, and therefore dealt violently with him, to make him desist with menaces of discovery, and the like: Hereupon grew two streames of hatred upon Over ury, the one from the Ladie, in resp ct that hee crossed her love, and abused her name, (which are uries in women) the other of a more deepe nature, from my Lord of Somerset himselfe, who was affraid of Overburies Nature, and that if he did breake from him and fly out, hee would winde into him and trouble his whole fortunes; I might adde a third s reame of the Earle of Northamptons Ambition, who desires to be first in favour with my Lord of Somerset, and knowing Ove •• uries malice to himselfe, and to his House, thought th t man must be removed and cut off, so as certainely it was resolved and decreed, that Overbury must dye.

Hereupon they had vari ty of devices to send him beyond the Seas up n occasion of imployment.

That was too weake, and they were so far from giving way to it, as they crossed it; there rested but two wayes of quarrell, assault, and poyson. For that of assault, after some proposition and attempt, they passed from it, was a thing too open and subject to more varietie of shame; that of poyson likewise was an hazardous thing, and subject to many preven ions and caution, especially to such a working and jealous braine as Overbury had, except he was first fast in their hands; therefore the way was first to get him into a trap and lay him up, and then they could not misse the marke; and therefore in execution of this plot, it was denyed, that hee should be designed to some honourable imployment in forraigne parts, and should underhand by my Lord of Somerset be incouraged to refuse it; and so upon contempt he should be laid prisoner in the Tower, and then they thought he should be close enough, and death should be his Bayle, yet were they not at their end, for they considered, that if there were not a fit Lieutenant of the Tower or their purpose, and likewise a fit Underkeeper of O •• r ury: First, they should meet with many impediments in the giving and the exhibiting of the poyson: Secondly, they should be exposed to note an observation that might discover them: And thirdly, Overbury in the meane time might write clamorous and urious Letters to his friends, and so all might bee disappointed: And therefore the next linck of the chaine was to displace the then Lieutena •• Wade, and to place Yeluis, a principall abettor in the impoysonment, to displace Cary that was Underkeeper in Wades ime, and to place Weston, that was the Actor in the impoysonment. And this was done in such a while, that it may appe re to be done, as it were, in a breath.

Then when they had this poore Gentleman in the Tower close p isoner, where he could not scape, nor stir, where hee could not feed, but by their hands, where he could not speake or write, but thorow their truncks, then was the time to act the last day of his tragedy.

Then must Francklin, the purveyour of the Poyson, procure five, six, seven severall Poysons, to be sure to hit his complexion: Then must Mistris Turner, the Lay Mistris of the Poysons, advise what workes at present, and what at distance: Then must Weston bee the tormentour, and chase him with Poyson after Poyson, Poyson in salt meats, Poyson in sweet meats, Poyson in medicines and vomits, untill at last his bodie was almost come by use of Poyson to the state of Mithridates bodie by the use of Treacle, and preservatives, that the force of the Poysons was blunted upon him; Weston confessing, when hee was chid for not dispatching him, that hee had given him enough to poyson twentie men.

And lastly, because all this asked time, courses were taken by Somerset, both to divert all the true meanes of Overburies delivery, and to entertaine him with continuall Letters, partly with hopes and protestations for his delivery, and partly with other fables and negotiations, somewhat like some kind of persons which keepe in a tale of fortune telling, when they have a felonious intent to picke their pocket, and pur es.

And this is the true narration of this act, which I have summarily recited.

Now for the distribution of the Proofes, there are foure heads to prove you guilty, whereof two are precedent to the impoysonment, the third is present, and the ourth is following or subsequent, for it is in Proofes, as it is in lights there is a direct light, and there is a direct light, and there is a reflection of light, and a double light.

The first head or Proofe thereof is, that there was a root of bitternesse, a mortall malice or hatred mixed with a deepe and bottomlesse mischiefe that you had to Sir Thomas Overbu y.

The second is, that you were the principall Actor, and had your hand in all those acts, which did conduce to the impoysonment, and gave opportunity to effect it, without which, the impoysonment could never have been, and which could seeme to tend to no other end, but to the impoysonment.

The third is, that your hand was in the very impoysonment it selfe, th t you did direct Poyson, and that you did deliver Poyson, and that you did continually harken to the successe of the impoysonment, and that you spurred it on, and called or dispatch, when you thought it lingered.

And lastly, that you did all things after the impoisonment, which m y detect a guilty conscience for the smothering of it, a d the avoyding of punishment for it, which can be but of three kindes.

Th t you suppressed as much as in you was, testimony, th t you did de ace, destroy, clip, and misdate all writings that might give light to the impoysonment; and you did fly to the Altar of guiltinesse, which is a Pardon of murther, and a P rdon or your selfe, and not for your selfe.

In th •• , my Lord, I convert my speech unto you, because I woul have you alter the points of your charge, and so make your d •• ence the better.

And two of these heads I have taken to my selfe, and left the other o the Kings two Serjeants.

For the irst maine part, which is the mortall malice coupled with feare that was in you to Sir Thomas Overbury, although you did palliate it with a great deale of hypocrisie and dissimul tion even to the very end, I will prove it, my Lord Steward, the root of this hate was that which cost many a mans life, that is feare of discovering of Secrets, I say, of Secrets of a dangerous and high nature, wherein the course that I will hold shall be this.

I will shew that a breach and malice was betwixt my Lord and Overbury, and that it burst forth into violent threats, and menaces on both sides.

Secondly, that these Secrets were not of a light, but an high n ture, I will give you the elevation of the Pole, they were such, as my Lord of Somerset had made a vow, that Overbury should neither live in Court, nor Country; that he had likewise opened himselfe so far, that either hee or himselfe must dye for it; and of Overburies part he had threatned my Lord, that whether he did live or die, my Lords shame should never dye, but that he would leave him the most odious man in the wo ld: And urther, that my Lord was like enough to repent where Overbury wrote, which was in the Tower of London, he was a Prophet in that; so there is the highest of the Secret.

Thirdly, I will shew you that all the Kings businesse was by my Lord put into Overburies hands, so as there is worke enough for Secrets, whatsoever they write them; and like Princes Confederates they had their Cyphers and their Jurgons.

And lastly, I will shew you that i was but a toy to say the malice was only in espect he spake dishonourably of the Ladie, or for doubt of breaking the Marriage, for that Overbury was oadjutor to that love, and the Lord of Somerset was as deepe in speaking ill of the Lady as Overbury: and againe, it was too late for that matter, for the bargain of the match was then made, and past; and if it had been no more then to remove Overbury for disturbing the match, it had been an easie matter to have landed over Overbury, for which they had a faire way, but that would not serve.

And lastly, periculum periculo vincitur, to go so far as an impoysonment, must have a deeper malice then flashes, for the cause must have a proportion in the effect.

For the next generall head or proofe, which consists in the acts preparatory, or middle acts, they are in eight severall points of the Compasse, as I may terme them.

First, there were divers devices and projects to set Overburies head on worke to dispatch him, and to overthrow him, plotted betweene the Countesse of Somerset, and the Earle of Somerset, and the Earle of Northampton, before they fell upon the impoysonment, for alwayes before men fix upon a course of mischiefe, there will be some rejection, but dye hee must one way or other.

Secondly, that my Lord of Somerset was principall practiser, I must speake it, in a most perfidious manner, to set a traine and trap for Overbury to get him into the Tower, without which they durst not attempt the impoysonment.

Thirdly, that the placing of the Lieutenant Yeluis, one of the impoysonments was done by my Lord of Somerset.

Fourthly, that the placing of Weston the Underkeeper, who was the principall impoysoner, and the displacing of Carey, and the doing all this within the while of fifteene dayes after Overburies commitment, was by the meanes and countenance of my Lord of Somerset. And these were the active Instruments of the impoysonment, and this was a businesse the Ladies power could not reach unto.

Fifthly, that because there must be a cause of this Tragedie to be acted, and chiefly because they would not have the Poysons worke upon the sudden, and for that the strength of Overburies natnre, or the very custome of receiving the Poysons into his body, did overcome the Poysons that they wrought not so fast; therefore Overbury must be held in the Tower, as well as he was laid in; and as my Lord of Somerset got him into the Trap, so he keepes him in, and abuses him with continuall hope of liberty, but diverted all the true and effectuall meanes of his liberty, and makes light of his sicknesse and extremities.

Sixthly, that not onely the plot of getting Overbury into the Tower, and the devises to hold and keepe him there, but the strange manner of the close keeping of him, being in but for a Contempt, was by the device and meanes of my Lord of Somerset, who denied his father to see him, denied his servants that offered to be shut up close prisoners with him, and in effect handled it so, that he made him close prisoner to all his friends, and exposed to all his enemies.

Seventhly, that all the advertisement the Lady received from time to time, from the Lieutenant or Weston, touching Ove buries state of body, and health, were ever sent nigh to the Court, though it were in Progresse, and that from my Ladie such a thirst and listening he had to heare that he was disp tched.

Lastly, that there was a continuall negoti tion to set Over u ies head on worke, that he should make some to cle re the Honour of the Ladie, and that he should be a good ins rument toward her, and her friends; all which w •• but enter ainment: Fo your Lordships shall see diver of my Lord of Northamptons Letters (whose hand was d epe in this businesse) written, I must say in darke word , a •• clauses, that there was one thing pretended, and anot er hing i tended. That there was a reall charge, and somewhat not re ll, a main drift and dissimulation; n y further, there be some p ss g s, which the Peeres in their wisdomes will discerne, to point directly at the impoisonment.

FINIS.