THE COPY of a Letter written out of Scotland, by an English Gentleman of credit and worship serving there, unto a friend and kinsman of his, that desired to be informed of the truth and circumstances of the slanderous and infamous reports made of the Queen of Scotland, at that time restrained in manner as prisoner in England, upon pretence to be culpable of the same. WHereas you require me, to send you mine own knowledge & the truest information that I can otherwise get, touching that troth or untruth of thinfamous reports made of the Queen's Majesty of Scotland, for & about the death of the Lord Darley her late husband: understand you, that albe it your request may do much with me, yet when I have go about to accomplish the same, I found the enterprise thereof greater, than perhaps it seemed to yourself: th● practise of the matter consisting in many parts depending o●● upon an other from sundry years passed, so secretly contrived that now some difficulty is it▪ to bolt out the truth, & withal the particularities & circumstances so intricat, that it would require the labour of a better penman, than myself, to set out the same. And that which I have do●● albeit I began it at your request, yet when I had entered to inform myself of the bottom thereof, I began then to think, that even for duty & conscience sake, I was bond to bestow therein a little more pain, regarding the terrible sequels and lamentable consequences, which I might perceive were intended to be grounded & builded upon such forged foundations and malicious inventions, as I plainly discovered from time to time to be newly contrived, not only first against her majesties self, but then also against her said husband, & every other good servant and subject, that could not be hoped to be wone to the Adverse party: I mean james Steward bastard brother to the Queen, Prior of S. Andrew. Who though he had been created by her Earl of Murrey, & advanced to more than 25. thousand pounds Scottish of yearly revenue, had yet his eye bend upon such a mark & end, as few or none of long time were able to espy: that is to say, an aspiring ambition to usurp the Crown of the Realm unto himself, so as while they the first set him on work, suborning him to take the matter in hand, & still supported him in the same, thought thereof to serve their own turns, & least intended that, which he most eyed: even so did he likewise in his course and path, by accepting their pensions and so much of their counsels, as made for his turn, served himself, and made his profit of them. And now for the more plain, orderly and compendious opening of the matter, I have thought good, so to frame my speech, as if myself were the answerer of the Objections, & to divide the same into four parts or chapters. In the first I will place the Answers to certain frivolous presumptions, that seem to be gathered out of some infamous libel, or slanderous pamphlet that hath been set forth against the Queen, & showed in sundry Cours of Princes abroad: whereby they labour to induce some show of likelihood, that the queens Highness might be consenting to the murder of the Lord Darley her late husband: whom they themselves cruelly made away, as in the course & process of the matter shall clearly appear. And in that part also shall ensue vehement presumptions on the contrary side, that maketh it more than probable, that it could not possibly be, that her Brace could be consenting thereunto. In the second you shall see the Objections of the Accusers, with the Answer that is to be made unto them, & therewithal certain dear and notorious proofs of her majesties innocency, for any manner foreknowledge or consent thereunto. In the third Chapter you shall find, not only vehement presumptions, but most clear & evident prouffes, that her Accusers themselves, mainly the Earl of Murrey her bastard brother, were the contrivers, procurers and some of them the Actors of the said murder. The fourth Chapter shall disscipher unto you the whole plat of this foul tragedy, with the particular parts thereof, from the first Act to the last, so farfoo●th as may yet be opened, having such respect, as is convenient to some of the parties yet living, with a short remonstrance of God's wondered workings therein, in merciful preserving the innocent Lady and her dear son, in discovering the drift of those most lewd & vile practices, and due punishment already taken upon some of the Malefactors. The answer to certain frivolous surmises made by the slanderers, whereby they labour to insinuate some likelihood, that the Queen of Scotland should be consenting to the murder of the Noble prince the lord Darley her late husband, together with other vehement presumptions produced in her defence to the contrary. caput. 1. IT is like (say they) she was willing to the murder: for there was no good agreement between the Queen and he● said husband. Item, the said Lord Darley was not so honourably buried, as had been convenient. To the former of these two guesses it is answered, Answer to the ●●●st. that though there had been once in very deed some unkindness between them, by reason of the Lord Darley being abused for want of years & experience, by the subtle practices of the crafty fore the Earl of Murrey & his Complices, who sought to kindle in the mind of that noble young Gentleman an ambitious desire to aspire to the kingdom, & to conceive unkindness in the Queen, for that having made him her husband, she did not also forthwith make him king of her Realm, having therefore persuaded him, to join with them in the murder of David her faithful Secretary (whom they made him believe to be his hinderer) and in the undutiful and insolent restraint of her person: yet the said Lord Darley sone after finding his own error, and perceiving, that their attempts tended to farther and worse end than at the first pretended, and being ashamed of his very evil & unkind dealing, through evil counsel, toward her Highness, to whom he was so singularly bond, reconciled himself in such hearty sort to her Grace, and so discovered unto her all the design●mentes, that he knew of the said Murrey and his Complices: that all thing past being remitted, there renewed between them as hearty love, as ever had been, according to the old & true saying: Amantium irae amoris redintegratio est. And thereupon (for proof that the reconciliation was unfeigned of her part) by her excellent wit and policy first she saved both him and herself, by making shift secretly in the night to escape out of the chamber: where after the murder of David they had rudely thrust her being great with child, and detained her imprisoned with no small danger of her life. Moreover her Highness hearing not long after, that upon his arrival at Glasco, he was fallen sick, forthwith repaired to him with all speed, cumforting and cherishing him in all she could, till she had recovered him: and even so likewise at Edinburgh she kept company with him, and tenderly cherished him even to the very last hour that ever she saw him, so that long before his death there was not only a perfect reconciliation between them, but such hearty and faithful love, as no practice that Murrey and his fellows could make, was able eftsoons to work any breach between them. Which considered, and being notoriously known to be true, a man may with Terence truly say to the suggester of that presumption: Non sat commodè Divisa sunt temporibus tibi▪ Dave, haec. To the second presumption by the flaunderers alleged, in that he was not so solemnly buried, as was convenient: it is answered, that his body was honourably embalmed, seared, and interred besides king james the u her Grace's father, and was accompanied to that place with justice Clarke, the Lord of Traquar, and many other Gentlemen of reputation. The ceremonies in deed were (against her Grace's will) the fewer, because the most part of her Council were Protestant's, who could abide no ceremonies, & some of them had before interred their own Noble parents without accustomed solemnities and ceremonies. But it had been no hard matter for her Highness, neither wanted she wisdom and policy, if she had been guilty of his death, to have cloaked the same with solemn funerals: which hath been, & is a thing very usual & common in such cases. The two simple presumptuous of the adversaries being thus truly answered, I will now lay forth certain others on the other side of far more weight, to show, that it was neither likely, nor almost possible, that her Highness could be consenting to that foul murder of her dear husband. First, because that Sex generally abhorreth by nature such horrible murder, it could not possibly be, that of many other women her Highness (who had always before appeared to be of a most mud, courteous & honourable nature, seeking by wonderful clemency & mercy to win the hearts of her enemies (of whom she had before pardoned some more than once) could by any likelihood fall upon the sudden from the height of so excellent virtue, as she was renowned for through Christendom, to the deep pit of such horrible sin and cruelty: as to murder her own husband, a noble and goodly young Prince whom she so tenderly loved. For that as good men assisted with God's grace, do daily rise as it were by degrees from virtue to virtue: so no man becometh upon the sudden, of excellent virtuous, extreme vicious, but descendeth rather by divers steps from worse to worse, before he come to the hideous bottomme of such unnatural cruelty, as uneath a Tiger, or any other savage beast would have used toward her make. Secondly if her Highness had been desirous to have been rid of him (whereof there is no probability) she had good & lawful mean to have compassed that by ordinary course of law, for the murder of her Secretary, in whose body his dagger was found sticking. For though he were her Grace's husband, yet was he in an other respect her subject, and under her laws. Thirdly she would not consent so much as to be divorced from him, whereunto divers of her Nobility earnestly advised & persuaded her: to whom she modestly and lovingly answered, that she would in no wise so do. For though he were yet young, and somewhat lose, for want of experience and stayed wisdom: yet she nothing doubted, but he would in time prove a noble, wise and virtuous Gentleman, and that she should with her dutiful and loving behaviour toward him son win & reduce him from those small oversights, which his tender mind corrupted with evil counsel, had fallen into, whereof she saw in him already a modest misliking, and thereby great cause to hope as she did. But that every way how so ever he should at any time forget himself, yet she would never wittingly commit thing, whereby she should on her part, seem in any respect unmindful of her duty toward him, whom she did and would heartily love, not doubting of the like in time at his hand toward her. Fourthly, it is to be considered, and not impertinent to this weighty case, to observe the Rule of Cassius, in examining and considering, Cui bono? which in such conjectural causes may give great light of the truth, by noting, whether part, the accuser, or else the accused, were like to take most benefit by the fact. It is certain, that her Highness could gain nothing thereby, but the heavy displeasure of God, and perpetual infamy to her person: without the hasarding whereof she had good and orderly mean, by due course of law, to have been rid of him, had she been so disposed. But by the dispatch of him in that sort, the Earl Murrey gained first to be revenged of him for revolting from him, and disclosing to the Queen his most traitorous conspiracies and unkind practices against her Highness: to whom the said Earl was for her great liberality & bountifulness toward him so singularly bond. He geyned also that notable occasion, which he had long sought, to draw the Queen into slander and mislike with her best friends: which was one principal step toward the end, whereunto his ambitious mind tended. The answer to the two principal points, whereupon the slanderers do most stiffly rely, as the chief colours of any probability in their most slanderous accusation of the Queen's Highness, together with certain most notorious and clear prouses of her Grace's innocency, in procuring, allowing, or so much as foreknowing any whit of that horrible fact. caput. 2. BYsydes the conjectural presumptions Objections. before remembered two especial things are there (say they) so notorious to convince her of procuring the murder: that she nor any her friends can ever, as they think, be able to avoid them. The first is a letter of her own hand written to the Earl Bothwell, which letter (they say) was found among other letters in a box taken upon Dugglish the Earl Bothwels man: who was sent with the said box to the Earl his Master, from Sir james Balfore Capte●ne of Edinburgh Castle. The second (wherewith they assure themselves they have hit even the nail on the very head) is her marriage with the Earl Bothwel, who is well known (as they now say) to have been one of the murderers of the Lord Darley her former husband. This is (say they) in the judgement of all the world such a testimony against her, as there is nothing to be said unto it. These in deed carry a great show, and give a very hollow sound: but so doth the empty run, if it be knocked on, yea it giveth a greater sound, then that which is full of good wine. So doth the Cannon charged only with powder, make as great a noise, as that which shooteth forth a stone, and battereth the sturdy bulwark. But first for answer of your letter, which you make such price of, & have so often showed both in the Court of England, and in all other places, where you have come, as it might be wondered, that it should not be worn in pieces with often handling long care this time, if you had not some extraordinary mean to preserve or renew it: I pray you, let me demand of you, what date beareth the letter? None, you say. Not doth? Well, go to, perhaps it might be forgotten. Whose name is subscribed thereto? None. Not is? Why, how should the Earl then know, whence it came? well enough, you say, by the hand which was her own and so well known. Why? 〈◊〉 might she as well have ●ouentured the subscribing of her name, as the writing of the letter with her own known hand. But had it, trow we, any superscription? Truly to say, it had none neither. How know you then, that it was written to the Earl Bothwel, and not as well to any other man? The messenger (you will say) known well enough, to whom he should deliver it. That ma● be, but how know you? Have you at any time spoken with him, that was the bearer thereof to the Earl? It is well known, you neither, have, nor could: syns there was never any such messenger, nor ever any such letter sent by her or received by him, as shall hereafter plainly enough appear. But this letter, I doubt not, conceiving such secrets, was fast and cunningly sealed. In good sooth, men say that have seen it, there is no show, that ever it was sealed, or fast closed. A foul oversight truly. You may see, the old saying is true, that often times haste maketh waste. But what good luck had you, so luckily to light on this letter, so long after: syns there is special request made therein to the receiver, presently to burn it, after he had read it? Well, let us consider yet a little better of this dealing, and confer the times: perhaps we may thereby find some more light in the matter. This letter (you say) was taken upon Dugglish among other letters sent in a box from Sir james Balfoore the Captain of Edinburgh Castle. When? Forsooth after you had taken arms against the Queen and Bothwel, & driven them both to flee. But who can believe you herein? Isther (I pray you) any probability or likelihood, that either the Earl would send to the said Sir james, who assisted that faction against the Queen with the strength & force of Edinburgh Castle, & had driven from thence the very Earl himself? Or is it likely, that the said Sir james would for goodwill seek to convey any such thing to the Earl, whose open enemy he was? Is this likely? Is it credible? Nay, would he not rather have kept it for evidence against the Queen and the said Earl Bothwel for some colour & excuse of the undutiful revolt made by himself, & the rest of you against her highness, being his & your lawful & natural Sovereign? May it not once again be said well & truly to the forster in of this false die? Non sat commodè Divisa sunt temporibus tibi, Dave, haec. Can any wise man think it likely, that the Queen having always showed herself so modest, so circumspect and wise, would writ any such letter with her own hand, as might by any possibility be produced against her in such evident sort to touch her honour? Or if she had been so voided of grace, of her wont womanly shamefastness, & of all regard to her honour, as she could have condescended to writ any such letter, was she so suddenly become so simple of wit & he also, that both they would have suffered that letter to remain extant to the peril of them both, namely since the Earl was (you say) expressly required in the same, forthwith to burn it? But yet it is her letter, you say. How prove you it? Or is your credit such that you think men must needs believe it, because you say it? The Civil Law, by which your Country is governed, says: Sciant cuncti ac cusatores &? In English thus. Let all accusers know, that they must bring to public notice only such thing, L. fin. C. de probat. as is confirmed by apt, lawful and sufficient witnesses, or laid forth with open documents and demonstration, or plainly unfolded by undoubtful prouffes as clear as the day light. This rule in the trial of criminal causes is to be observed toward the poorest & most abject person that liveth. Let us see then, whether you have observed it toward your Sovereign. You produce to defame her, a letter, which you say she written with her own hand to the earl Bothwel: which letter yet beareth no date, no subscription, no superscription, no seal, no one word in it of commandment to commit the vile murder or any other cruel fact, or importing any liking, or somuch as knowledge of any such fact before don. But you say, it hath in it these suspicious words: our affairs. As though the Queen had no affairs to employ her faithful & foretried subect but in the murdering of her husband, which you guess she meant by those words. O impudent & unkind subjects, that be not ashamed, if she had written any such thing, so measure & construe the meaning of your most virtuous Sovereign, by the vicious concepts that possess your own unnatural and dishonest minds! But who was the bearer of this letter? Of like, the man in the moan. For he that you would needs face to be the bearer, took God and his conscience to record at his death, that it was utterly untrue. So doth the Queen herself, protesting upon her honour and faith, that she never written that letter. So did her highness Commissioners at York, openly producing, for proof that it was forged, two other letters written in her name with her hand notably counterfeited by one among you, whom for some respects I will forbear to name. There is recorded by Valerius Maximus, Lib. ●. cap. 7. de fiducia sui. of a noble Roman, whose name was M. Aemilius Scaurus, a man of great credit, and service in the common wealth, that was accused by one Varius a vile person of no credit or account: to whose accusation the Noble man would vouchsafe no other answer but thus: He says it: I deny it. Upon which only answer, the people of Rome, being present, did not only with one voice presently acquit the nobleman: but forthwith theifel upon the accuser, & forced him out of the place, nor without some danger of his life. Such was the credit of that Nobleman, and such the Noble consideration of that grave and well advised people: that his only denial weighed down all that the other had craftily forged, & was esteemed for sufficient matter both to acquit the accused, & to condemn the accuser. The like with as good reason might have been done in this case, upon the only denial of this most noble Queen & renowned Lady. But thus much I thought not amiss to set down in answer of this point of the supposed letter, for the full satisfying of the curious. Now to the answer of the second Objection touching the pretenced marriage of the Earl Bothwel, it might be wondered, with what face they themselves, that were the earnest solicitors and procurers of the Queen thereunto, could have the boldness now to charge her Highness therewith, if so many their other doings had not showed them to be past all shame & grace. But for the clear opening of that drift, it is to be known & deeply considered, that the Earl Murrey, having as it may seem, sucked a traiterons mind even with the milk of his lewd mother, prefixing to himself, that nothing could better serve to the advancement of his traitorous designments, then to bring the Queen into slander and obloquy of the world, & thereby to alienate from her the minds of her friends and subjects: found now, that the next part he had to play, was to work, if he could by any policy, such a fetch, as the Queen might be brought ignorantly to match herself in marriage with one of the murderers. He therefore laid all his irons in the fire, & lest no stone unremoved, or way unattempted, to persuade her both by earnest letters, (which her Highness hath yet to show signed with his own hand, and with the hands of divers Noble men, and others his Confederates) as also with diligent and daily solicitations otherwise (namely by one of their conspiracy then placed about her for that purpose) to take to husband the said Earl Bothwel, whom (to remove all struple they the Conspirators themselves had acquitted by their verdict, of the murder, whereof he was somewhat suspected: having also prepared an open way to that part of the Tragedy, by procuring a divorce a little before, at the suit of the old Countess of Duntley, between the said Earl Bothwel and his wife▪ her daughter, for that they were so near of kin, as with conscience (forsooth) they might not continued together. Pretending farther unto the Queen, that besides the divorce before lawfully passed (as they said) God had also taken the said Lady Bothwel to his mercy, so as to appearance there remained no impediment, but that her Highness might marry him. And so they earnestly advised and prayed her Grace to do, as the only man, that for his Nobility, wisdom, valiantness, and many other virtues, they all judged the fittest husband in the Realm for her Highness, & most likely by his wisdom to stay the troubles, that were like to grow by the divers factions, that were among the noble men: who would sooner be appeased, and commit their differents to be compounded by him, then by any stranger, whose rule they should perhaps not be very apt so willingly to brook. The Queen seeing this their earnest suit, with their most faithful promises (as they seemed) of willing service & most assured loyalty to the uttermost of their power, in case she would take the said Earl Bothwel to her husband, mingled also with some threats, if she should refuse so to do: & withal calling to her mind the sudden and divers uproars and seditions already made against her, the cruel murder of her Secretary in her own presence, the late strange and most lamentable murder of her husband, the diseumforte, distress and desolate estate wherein she presently stood, the Earl's activity in martial affairs, the good & faithful service done by him to her mother and herself: fearing also some new stir & imminent trouble, if she should deny and refuse this so earnest suit made unto her by her Nobility (though she were always before that time very wise, circumspect & prudent in all other her doings: yet being a woman circumvented by so many crafty heads, & tossed with divers cogitations, never being openly or privately so much as once admonished, that he was in troth guilty of the murder (which seeing and hearing, as she saw and herded, she found no manner cause to suspect) and bring in the mids of these careful thoughts, was met one day, as she was riding upon the way toward Kircliften, by the said Earl armed & accompanied with men of war, & by him taken from her company, & perforce carried to Dunbarre Castle, where what with fair means, and what with setting before her eyes many imminent dangers, if she refused, & being destitute of all counsel or advise, & of all presence & access of any of her faithful servants or friends, at the last she assented (at the suit made by himself, & so many other of the Nobility) to that pretenced marriage. The consummation whereof, the Confederates had not so soon compassed, but forthwith they proceeded to the next Act of their Tragedy, giving out bruits into all Countries, that she had caused her husband to be murdered, & married the murderer, which for that it stood not (forsooth) with their honour to endure, they presently took arms, & eftsoons rebelled against their said Sovereign, bl●nding & be witching the world for the time, with the probability of their assertion much increased by that her pretenced marriage: whereof themselves were only that procurers, as before they had been of the murdering of her Secretary and her husband. Thus do you see, how this good Lady hath been handled, & how easy a matter it is for a number of subtle & crafty heads, to overtake & deceive a good, mild & well meaning Lady destitute of counsel. For her faithful counsellors seeing the number & puissance of the contrary faction so great, & by Knox's pulpit alarms daily so increase, taking a fair warning by the secretaries end, dared not once quitche, or give unto her Grace such sound advise, as their duties required But hereof enough. Let the Conspirators make now what they can of the pretenced marriage: the more they talk thereof, the more they do manifest to the world their own most shameless impudency, in turning now to an argument of suspicion against the Queen, that which themselves so busily contrived, and unnaturally executed. Whereof their own letters, hands, and seals remain witnesses void of all suspicion. Thus having answered these two their chief & principal Objections, to wit, of the letter & of the pretenced marriage: I wil lay forth before you certain clear proofs and notorious testimonies of her innocency of that case of the murder. First understand you, that a servant of the Earl Bothwel being executed for the murder, confessed in the hearing of five thousand people and more, that Murrey and his Complites were the principal counsellors and assisters with his master in that murder, and that so his master had told him: and confessed also to have seen the Indentures, wherein the Conspirators had bond themselves each to other, to make away the Lord Darley upon the first opportunity that might be offered. Also john Hay of Tallow, Pourie, Dugglish and Paris being all put to death, for that they were the executioners of that murder, did all and every of them severally at their death, protest upon their consciences, as they hoped to be saved at the latter day, that not only the Queen's highness was utterly innocent and unwitting of the Lord Darley's death, but that the same was committed chief by the counsel, invention, and drift of the Earl Murrey, and some others, whose names I spare for just respects. Secondly, the Lord Harris, a stout, grave, & faithful Noble man (who was at the first made privy to the devise, & after upon good causes to long to be rehearsed in this letter) withdrew himself from any farther action or dealing in the matter, told an Earl yet living, to his face even at the Earls own table, nulla circuitione usus, that the said Earl was of counsel to the murder of the Lord Darley. And afterward at York did the like openly in presence of the English Commissioners, to the face of Murrey, and of the other (whose name I will forbear to express, in hope of his repentance) and there protested, that he well knew, the Queen to be utterly guiltless and innocent of the matter, nobly demanding the combat of them both in that quarrel. Thirdly, when the Confederates having now laid and raised so far foorth the foundation of their building, that they thought the world blinded with the mists they had cast, would judge they had reason in their doings: then proceeded they to open rebellion, taking arms, and assembling people against their Queen, whom they falsely charged with divers crimes without care of their conscience, allegiance, the offence of God or regard to any other honest or dutiful respect, being carried headlong with a furious desire only to that end, whereto their restless ambitious heads had so long before bended their Machevelian practices. The Queen seeing this, assembled likewise a strong army of her faithful subjects, to repress these Rebels. Whereupon they perceiving her Highness to draw fast toward them, sent to her from Edinburgh (where by the favour of Sir james Balfore the Ca●●ellan they had assembled them selves and their power) a Noble man yet living, who in the names of all the lords and other confederates, did most humbly upon his knees assure her Highness of the security of her person, of the safety both of her life and honour, and of all loyalty and obedience at their hands, if it would please her Grace, to forbear force, & to come peaceably into the town of Edenbrough, & join with them in searching out & ponnishing the murder of the Lord Darley her late husband: the revenge whereof (they said) was the only cause of their assembly, and that in so doing her Highness should find them all there as ready to serve her to the shedding of their blood, as any in her own army there present. The good Queen hearing this their humble suit, and thinking them to have meant as plainly and honourably as she did, loath (if it might be avoided) to see such effusion of the blood of her subjects, as was like otherwise to follow, and being armed with the secure testimony of a guiltless conscience, having there withal a mind no less desirous in deed to see the horrible murder of her late most dear husband bolted out, and duly punished, as so heinous a crime deserved, than they in words pretended to have, carrying with her the innocency of her own conscience, yielded over soon to this the● fraudulent suit: and so leaving her power, made repair into the Town of Edinburgh, where when she was arrived, expecting to have been in solemn and dutiful sort received by the Lords according to the said Noble man's words and pretenced promises made in all their names, her Highness to her great amazing, found all contrary. For her adversaries proudly remaining in her Grace's Palace▪ (whereof they had possessed themselves) seeing now the pray in their hands, which they had so long hunted after, and whereon they intended to feed their bloody and ambitious minds, were so far from doing that which they had promised, and she expected, that they caused her to alight at a merchants house, & there rudely and homely using her Grace all that day, the next night made her privily and speedily to be conveyed in disguised apparel to the strong castle of Loghleven: where, within a few days she was despoiled of her Princely ornaments, and clothed with a course brown ca●●ocke. And though the good Lady full often remembered unto them their faithful promises, & made most pitiful & earnest intercession, that she might be brought before the Counsel, to have her cause justly examined: yet for all this could find no manner favour or justice at their hands. The said Earl Murrey then having brought his reckonings to this pass, presently without shame or farther cunctation, boldly usurped and intruded himself into the government of the Realm, for the which his ambitious and traitorous mind had so long and so greedily thirsted. The Queen seeing these things, and being therewith not a little astonished, repent, though to late, her so quiet relenting to their suit, and over-quicke crediting their feigned humble promises: when she was in case well enough by force to have suppressed them. But this her doing gave ye● a most clear and notorious testimony to the world of her innocent conscience, tender care of her subjects lives, and a plain honourable mind far from craft, and much farther from such bloody and cruel malice, as could give consent to the murder of her husband, whom she so dearly loved. This her guiltless innocency was yet more notoriously testified, when her Highness being by the merciful providence & mighty hand of God delivered out of the strong castle of Loghleven, environed with a broad large water, furnished with great guard and numbers of soldiers, & whereof the Lord of the castle himself▪ being Murrey's half brother did every night kept the keys▪ when, I say, she being thus miraculously delivered & offered by divers her own subjects, to be trustily conveyed into their quarter's, where they would warran● her Grace safely to remain & a● liberty to have go freely to any foreign Prince, at whose hands she might well hope fo● aid in her just cause, ageyn●● her unnatural subjects, namel● in France, where, while she● was Queen, she had by h●● many virtues gained great● love and estimation, and wher● the worthy Cardinal of Lorraine, and the rest of her Noble Uncles, bore under the young King and his mother the chief sway in the government of the Realm: did yet for the more notorious clearing of herself, and notifying of her innocency to the world, choose voluntarily, to make her repair into England, where she knew were the Earl of Lineux, and the Noble Princess the Lady Margarete, her late husbands father and mother, who (she trusted) would not see the blood of their dear son unrevenged: where also she knew were a worthy sort of Noble men, who would by all likelihood afford their travail in the indifferent examination of the cause, and thereupon finding out the truth, would do justice to the guilty for the murder of their Noble countryman, and see the innocent both preserved and revenged. How could her Highness give a more notable testimony of her innocency and most guiltless conscience! Fourthly, see how wonderfully God prospered this her most noble and honest intent. For the Commissioners of England assigned and assembled at York for the examination of that cause, who being before sore incensed against the Queen by the crafty & malicious practices of her adversaries, brought with them so small affection to her part, and had devised and appointed the plat of their proceeding so little to her advantage, that james the Regent, and the rest, that were adverse parties against her (who had not at all come out of Scotland to charge and accuse her, but upon the assured hope and promise' made unto them by the English authority) should be first herded, and all their accusations at their desired length, opened & declared, before any of the Commissioners of the Queen of Scotland's part should be herded, or suffered to answer any point or article of their accusations, until the same were fully & wholly given in all at length against her. Which accusations and presumptions that they the party rebels minded to exhibit, being supposed to be matter sufficient to occupy the Commissioners some days, and to spend so much time, as might give unto the world a show and pretence of an indifferent proceeding, it was then farther promised unto them, and agreed between the English Governors and the Scottish Rebels, that their accusations being once herded, and enrolled, and a short word or two suffered to be spoken for a show by the Queen of Scotland's Commissioners, that then the english Commissioners should make some quarrel, and feign some cause to arise, to break of, & to make an end of all that Colloquy & Commission. Which horrible confederacy of partial proceeding notwithstanding, the said Englsh Commissioners were yet so moved with that which fallen out before them to the manifest proof of the Queens innocency, & of the deep malice of her accusers (so far from their conceived opinion & expectations) that their former wrong concepts grounded upon the false rumours & other mischievous practices of her adversaries, began generally to cease so farforth as they become to pity her case, & made earnest request, that she might be restored to her Crown. And certain Noble men (you know whom I may mean) having before spoken very broad and largely against her Highness, did then clean altar the course of their talk, being sorry for that, which they upon to light credit had said before. Also the principal of the very Commissioners themselves, to wit, the Noble Duke of Norfolk a right high and excellent Prince, the chief Peer of the Realm of England, conceived so great liking of her Grace's innocency & virtue, which fell out apparent by that which was there uttered in the course of the matter debated before his excellency, and the rest of the Commissioners, that upon his report made thereof to the State and Counsel of England: and by the motion and advise of sundry of the Counsel and Nobility, he began to bethink himself of matching with her in marriage: and upon good consideration of her well proved honour & innocency, desired at length nothing more, then that his hap might be so good, to match in marriage with so virtuous a Lady. And shortly after, love farther kindling and increasing in his noble mind toward her, not blinded with affection to her beauty, whom to this hour he never saw, but inflamed with the just love and liking of her singular virtues, which he saw there suffciently testified: he become by means, not only a suitor for himself, but diverse others also of the chief Nobility of England, seeing how honourable and convenient to the parties themselves, and profitable to both Realms (standing in terms as they do) that match were like to prove, become also in his Grace's behalf humble suitors unto her Highness. Which could not have happened, if upon the examination and hearing of the cause, there had fallen out any suspect or probability of truth, in the vile matters and objections surmised against her by her adversaries. For it is nothing likely, that his Grace abounding, as he doth, in wisdom, wealth, power, general love of his countrymen, and in manner with all other worldly felicity, would seek to match in marriage with one, that had justly remained in any suspicion of having murdered her former husband. Thus doth the wondered goodness of God daily appear toward the innocent wronged and oppressed, that humbly resign themselves & their cause into his hands. For how could any man almost with or devise more manifest & notable things to happen for the notorious discovery and testimony of the Queen's innocency in the fact wherewith she hath been by her ambitious & ingratful enemies so slanderously charged, than these, which have since happened? But now, sith we see her Highness so fully cleared, it shall not be amiss, to note, what vehement presumptions, nay what open prouffes and clear arguments have on the other side fallen out in the course & handling of these matters, against the accusers, to convince even themselves of guilt, in conspiring, procuring & compassing that cruel murder, whereof they thought to avert the suspicion from themselves, by laying the same to the charge of the innocent Queen. Certain vehement presumptions with most clear and evident proufs, that th' accusers of the Queen, namely the Earl of Murrey and certain other of the chief of his Confederates, were the devisers, procurers, and some of them the very executioners of the murder of the Lord Darley. caput. 3. AS the Earl of Murrey & his complices, could never to this day by any threat, promiss of pardon, favour and reward, or other practices (whereof it is known he used many) procure any one, not so much as a condemned person, directly to charge or accuse the Queen of consenting, or so much as any foreknowledge of the murder: so without any such practice, God hath of his justice so appointed, that diverse people at sundry times & places have voluntarily and of their own knowledge constantly charged the Earl Murrey and other his confederates therewith. But before I come to that point, I will reduce to you in some order, divers other things that went before: which when you have red, and advisedly considered the same, you shall (I doubt not) easily be induced to think, that those direct testimonies succeeding against Murrey and the rest of his confederates, were like enough to be true, & so are in deed found to be, and daily more and more confirmed by Time the mother of Truth. It shall not be impertinent therefore in this place somewhat to note the causes, that moved the Earl of Murrey to seek and procure the death of the Lord Darley. The first and original cause was the great and exceeding ambition, which appeared wholly to possess the lewd mind of the said Murrey, aspiring greedily to the Crown & government of that Realm: of which his inordinate ambition if any man doubt, let him first know, that he was so far blinded therewith, that he was not ashamed to make open and direct suit to the Queen in the time of her first widowhood, to entail the Crown of Scotland to him, (though he were illegitimate and uncapable thereof) & to the blood & name of the Stewards, dissuading her in all he might, from all manner of marriage. Which things are well known to most of the Nobility of that Realm. But when he see that devise would not take place, for that the Queen being young, & having no child, desirous (as was both natural & dutiful for the quiet of the Realm) to leave an heir of her own body to reign after her, if so it should please God, was determined to march herself in marriage with the said Lord Darley, being a goodly young Prince, descended (as herself also was) of the Royal blood of the ancient Kings both of England and Scotland, and next after herself & his mother, the next Heir in appearance to the Crown of England: Murrey seeing this match to fall out very ill for his purpose, and the worse, because such a young and beautiful couple, were not like to be long without children, he first determined and practised to have killed both the said Lord Darley and his Father, and to have imprisoned the Queen in Loch●euen, and himself to usurp the regiment of the Realm, as since he did. But the marriage being solemnized, before he could conveniently execute that his devilish intent, and the same (as God would have it) being disclosed: so great was his malice and ambition, that not being ●able any longer to contain or dissemble the same, he then broke forth into open rebellion, showing himself with his Complices in arms against the Queen his Sovereign & his most loving & bountiful sister, by whose liberality he might dispend well xxvi. thousand pounds by year after the rate of their money, and next unto herself ruled & commanded the whole Realm. And to win the more to his faction, took hold and occasion of the revocation she had made of the Acts and Alienations (of things pertaining to the Crown) made in her minority (which all Princes of Scotland may justly do, when, or before they come to the age of five and twenty years) pretending that she meant to pluck from every man all the possessions of the Church and Crown that he and the rest of the Nobility had got into their hands: which amounted to more than two parts of three, of the revenues of the whole Church and Crown of Scotland. But his forces being by her highness loyal subjects soon broken, he fled into England, where while he remained, he busily solicited and earnestly sued for aid against his Sovereign. Yet during the time of his remaining there, two things did he finely cumpasse: the one was his own pardon at the queens hands by the entreaty of such friends as he found in England, the other the murder of David the queens Secretary▪ whereof by his letters he gave a plat ●o certain of that confederates yet living, & so earnestly solicited the same, that it was executed in such horrible sort, as the world knoweth, in the Queens own presence, at what time she being great with child, labouring all she could by entreaty, to save his life, had a charged pistolet bend against her, and was threatened, it should be presently short of at her, if she would not quiet herself. Which barbarous fact used towards her, in the case she was in, gave unto Murrey a special hope, that either she, or her child, or both, by that sudden fright and fear should perish and miscarry. This Secretare being thus dispatched, whose wisdom and fidelity, was no small let to their designments, Murrey the ●●rye next day even at his ●ue (as they say) for assisting of his Confederates if need were, entered into Scotland, and presented himself with as smooth a countenance in the Queen's presence (of whom he was graciously pardoned) as though he had neither been of counsel of that fresh slaughter of the Secretary, nor of any other traitorous attempts against her Highness (such was h●● noble, courteous and merciful ●●ture) kindly welcomed and lovingly received him again, freely remitting all that was passed. Which when the Lord Darley see, he much misliked, and repined thereat, fearing that h● would be (as afterward he wa● in deed) revenged upon him: because he finding by the da●ger, which both the Queen and himself stood in at the furious murder of David, that there was a farther fetch in the matter, than the bringing of the Crown and government to him (which in secret conference & practice with him, was their pretence) did not only forthwith reconcile himself to the Queen, but disclosed to her Highness, all the confederates in that conspiracy, whero● h●●onfessed the said Murrey to be the head and principal. Therefore doubting, tha● when Murrey should hear of this, he would also seek upon his person a bloody revenge, as he had trained him in blood before: he determined, to prevent the said Earl, and to kill him first. Which his determination he opened to the Queen, and though earnestly she dissuaded him from it: yet through fervent fear of his own life, and want of experience, vndis●retely disclosed it to so many, that it came at the last to murrey's ears. But he having a much more crafty head, then the young Lord Darley had, dissembling that he had any intelligence hereof, began then to hasten as much as he could, the dispatch of the said Lord Darley, whereof he had be●ore laid the plat with his confederates, but chiefly with the Earl Bothwel, whom at his departure from the court toward France (for the subtle fox to abuse the world would himself be out of the Realm when his devices should be executed) he had put in trust as his singular and most especial and secret friend, with th● whole order of that affair, promising him (in reward of his pains to be taken in the dispatch of the Lord Darley) his counsel and furtherance in all he could, to marry with the Queen: wherein the crafty Fox foresaw and intended, as hath since appeared, the destruction both of the Queen and him, and thereby an open way for himself to attain the goal of the regiment of that Realm, which since he hath usurped. Here you see a concurrence of two causes that moved Murrey, to contrive the murder of the Lord Darley. First, an ambitious hope, by taking him away, to attain with much more ease, the Crown, which was the mark he shot at: the other, a fear that he had to be himself murdered by the said Lord Darley, if he did not found some mean to prevent him. Now remains it to be proved, that as Murrey was moved by these apparent causes, to procure this murder: so in deed he was the procurer of the same. For proof whereof: first it is to be known, that he to avoid from himself the open suspicion & slander thereof, departing from the Court about xuj. hours before the murder committed, said to the Lord Darris: This night, eare morning, the Lord Darley shall loose his life. which words the said Lord Harris, being of such honour and credit, as is well known, did ●t sundry times, avow openly to the Earl murrey's face, and is yet living ready to avow the same. Secondly, Murrey before his departure out of Scotland for France, had contrived, that his faction should in his absence procure the acquittal of Bothwel, ● after to marry with the innocent Queen. And divers of the faction had by their own hand● writing bound themselves to obey and assist Bothwel against any that should prosecute him for the murder committed. Thirdly, the said Murrey b● his earnest suit obtained the return of some of his principal confederates, then banished into England for the slaughter of the Secretary: without whose assistance, for their great courage and wit to execute, his practices went but lamely forward. Fourthly, it is well known, that the said Murrey, and other the confederates, had many secret meetings at the Castle of Cragmiller, about the contriving and compassing of the said murder: at which place the same was fully concluded, as hath veu since confessed. Fiftly, the said Earl Murrey, nor any of the rest, would not give to the Queen any admonition or knowledge, that your Earle Bothwell was any dote in the death of her husband, till by the great suit, singular commendation of the said Earl Bothwel, & other mischievous practices mingled with pretenced humility and with covert terror, they had persuaded and procured her Highness to marry him. Then, when it was for her to late, and for them ●umpe in the nick, they suddenly with open mouth blazed abroad and published, that the Earl Bothwel (forsooth) with whom the Queen had married, was the principal murderer of the Lord Darley, whose death it came now suddenly upon them, and much touched their honour (as they said) to see revenged. And there upon presently broke they forth again into arms against their Queen, whom when up seined submission and false promises (as hath been showed before) they had frandulently got into their hands, and unnaturally cast into prison in Lochlenen (where the ●ewed mother and bastard brother of the said Murrey were dwelling): they little then cared for pursuing or hurting the Earl Bothwell. For they permitted him to remain there quietly in the Country certain months after, and to pass safely whither he would, according to their former promiss made unto him in their names by a Noble man yet living: who, when he was sent from Edinburgh to the Queen's Camp, to persuade her Majesty, to say arms apart, and peaceably to enter Edinburgh, as is before remembered, took the Earl Bothwell by the hand, and drawing him aside, abussed him, to depart for a time, faithfully promising him, that no man should pursue or follow him. Sixtly, John Hepborne the Earl Bothwelles man (who with certain others that had in deed been present at the murder, was executed, for a face of justice, and to remove suspicion from the principals) said and constantly affirmed at his death in the presence of five thousand people and more, that (as he should answer before God) the Earl Murrey, and certain others, whom he then and there named, were the principals and chief procurers of the said murder, and that so the Earl Bothwell his Master had often told him in secret. The same in effect was affirmed by John Hay of Tallow, Powrie, Dugglish and Paris at the time of their deaths, as hath been showed before. Lastly, there was a solemn Indenture Octopartite made and passed, between the said Earl Murrey and the rest of the Conspirators, of mutual covenant and promiss upon their faith and honour, uniformly to proceed in their said confederacy: that which of them soever should first cumpasse opportunity, should kill the said Lord Darley, and in all events touching the same should jointly assist and defend each other. Of which Indenture one part signed & sealed with the hands and seals of the Earl Murrey and the rest of the Conspirators, hath since come to the Queen's hands, and was showed to the English Commissioners. Now see how wonderfully God hath wrought herein. If such vehement presumptions as are before remembered, could be slightly passed over, as things that rather make likely, then clearly prove true that which is gathered thereof: yet is it not to be mistrusted, but so many witnesses directly accusing Murrey & his complices, at the hour of their death, Murrey's foretelling the night when the Lord Darley should be killed, the flat and weighty testimony of the Noble Lord Harris yet living, and lastly the Indenture of that traitorous conspiracy, signed and sealed with the known hand and seal of the Lord Murrey and his Confederates, will fully satisfy all men the have their common sense, and give them matter enough clearly to see, who were the procurers of that horrible murder, whereof the guilty malefactors have so unnaturally slandered their good and guilelesse Queen. I could here touch diverse points by the way, to wit, C. Qui accula● non po● l Iniquum Et L. fin. L. Qui accurate. ff. d● accusat. the invalidity of the Accusers for the just and lawful exceptions, that the Queen ought take against every of them by the Law, which giveth to the simplest defendant that may be, the benefit and advantage of lawful exceptions, not only against the accuser, but against the witness & judge. All which three parts, that is to say, to be accusers, witnesses, and judges also, they themselves have taken upon them in this Tragedy. And farther, if the Queen had been guilty, as she was not: yet aught she not by them to have been deposed, no more than David was, when he had committed both murder and adultery, or numbers of other Kings and Princes in the like cases. Further, that subjects ough: not for any cause, of their own private authority, to lay violent hands on their anointed Prince. That their manner o● proceedidg having been altogether unhonest, and contrary to the law of God and man, hath made their doing evil, unjust and impious, Quia forma dat esse rei: with divers other such matters, which of purpose I omit, as not necessary in this case, where the principal is so fully answered, as the Queen or her friends need not to flee to the advantage of those helps. Praised be God, that truth hath yeelde● such abundant & notorious prouffes of her innocency, & their guilt, that her Highness may, hath from the beginning, & yet doth offer to stand and join issue with her accusers, upon the principal point by them most falsely and impudently laid to her charge. A Capitulation of the Acts and parts of this Tragedy hitherto, without producing all the Actors, divers of whose names are for good respects to be suppressed. CAP. 4 THis Lord james, bastard brother to the Queen of Scotland, & by her natural goodness advanced to the Earldom of Murrey, to possessious & livelyhod of six and twenty thousand pounds by the year, to the whole government and rule of the Realm next to herself (as hath been showed before) being yet pricked forward with an ungrate and ambitious mind, with the lewd inclination he drawn by kind out of his unchaste mother, and by the instigation of the Diuel●, that would not suffer him to go on in the Ecclesiastical and religious life, wherein he was once entered, and in some degrees professed, determined by one mean or other, to make himself King of that Realm. Toward the bringing of which his designment to effect, he first practised, to stay the Queen from marriage, and to entail the Crown to him & to the name of the Stewards. Which devise not succeeding to his fancy, he determined, to interrupt her marriage with the Lord Darley (whereof he see her resolved) by procuring the murder both of him & the Earl of Lineux his father. But God preserving them, the marriage was solemnized & consummate. Then, seeing no way so likely to advance the desired success of his wicked enterprise, as to devise some mean, to breed debate and misliking between the Queen and her husband: he practised, to put into the head of the said Lord Darley a great desire which he and others of the Nobility had, to see the Crown set on his head, for that they wished (said he) rather to be governed by a man, than altogether by a woman, declaring unto him, that many of them did marvel, that there appeared in her so little regard to his Lordship, as having worthily made him her husband, she would yet so unworthily suffer him to remain in place of a subject: or so little magnanimity in him, that giving all other ways sufficient show and testimony of a noble courage, he could so meekly bear that dishonour, whereof yet he could not much impute the fault to the Queen (who seemed in her very loving use towards him otherways, to reverence and regard the Nobility of his Royal blood and excellent gifts of nature worthy in deed of any Monarchy) as to the envious & spiteful secret working and persuasion of David her Secretary, a crafty fellow, and as Murrey said, neither friend to his Lordship, nor to any of the Nobility. The young Prince hearing this, and lacking in deed no courage or greatness of mind, but some ripeness of judgement (for want of years and experience) to discern whereto this tale and devise tended, being easily circumvented by this old crafty fox, and long practised traitor, gave soon an inclining ear to this his smooth talk, which showed outwardly, a great estimation of the said Lord Darley's person and virtue, with a loving desire of his advancement. Wherefore to make short, this young Lord having the same by divers means inculcated into his head, sometime by scornful reproaches uttered to him by the way of mirth, of his to base suffering such contempt, and sometime by subtle persuasions and earnest instigations of sundry the Confederates: in the end, the unfortunate young Lord was brought first to use strangeness toward the Queen, and soon after to join with that Confederates that were wrought by Murrey to become the butcherly murderers of this poor faithful Secretary, in whose body the said Lord Darley's own dagger was found sticking among a number of other deadly wounds, wherewith he was there miserably stabbed, in the very presence of the Queen his Mistress, being great with her first and only child, and endeavouring herself by entreaty, and otherwise (as she was able) to save him, till by a charged Pistolet bend towars her (as was showed before) she was also put in fear of her life, and violently thrust, not into her own privit chamber, but into an other, with only one of her Gentle women to wait● upon her. murrey's ●nterprise being thus far ●duanted, he thought (this stumbling block of the wise and faithful Secretary being remould, and therewithal so notable a cause of unkindness cast between the Queen and the said Lord Darley) he needed not much to doubt, but that he should well found the means, shortly to bring to pass, that the said Lord Darley being now nusseled in blood, should be wrought for geine of the Crown (which seemed offered unto him) to dispatch also the Queen herself, or at the lest, to give his consent to the destroying of her. But God otherwise disposed. For this Noble young Gentleman, by the secret instinct of nature, and of Princely mind he drawn with the Royal blood of his Noble Mother, began even forthwith to repent, and to abhor the foul fact he had committed. And there upon finding his own fault, and sou ashamed thereof, he presently entered into the chamber, wher● the desolate Queen kneeled in fear of her life, morning his ingratitude, with the loss of her old faithful servant the Secretary, and in humble and most fervent prayer to God, to defend and preserve her and the infant in her womb, from the cruel hands of those traitors, whose bloody daggers she looked presently to feel also in her own body. When he, being touched with remorse and with the grace of God (obtained, as it may well be thought, with the piercing prayer & abundant tears there poured forth by that good and virtuous Lady) entered into the chamber: he presently fallen down on his knees before her Highness, ask mercy and pardon for the great errors he had committed, with sufficient show, that he was now heartily sorry therefore, & gave very faithful assurance, that he would from thenceforth, unfeignedly be to her Highness such, as duty and her exceeding kindness and demerits toward him had justly bond him. To make short, the good Queen, seeing this notable change so suddenly to happen somewhat beyond her expectation: first most humbly thanked God (whom she see to be the only Author thereof) then lovingly embracing her sorrowful husband, she not only pardoned sweetly all his former unkindness, and grievous offences committed against her: but seeing (better then he did) the present danger wherein they both stood, she forthwith by her excellent wisdom devised and put in execution such politic mean, as wherewith she saved that night both him and herself by escaping away in disguised apparel. The Earl of Murrey seeing then (contrary to his hope) this reconciliation between the Queen and the Lord Darley: imagined, as it followed, that all his traitorous practices would be discovered to the Queen, and resolved with himself, that now there remained no way for his own safety, and to advance the desired end of his traitorous purpose, but to make short work, and to get the said Lord Darley to be dispatched out of the way. And that being done, he doubted not, by one devise or an other, to make a hand also with the desolate Queen, or at the lest to get her by some good colour deposed, & himself placed in the Royal seat & government of that Realm. This mischievous device how he compassed & achieved even to his mind, the world hath seen, and the process of this discourse hath before opened. I will therefore (desiring herein to be as short as I may) forbear the repeating thereof again in this place, and proceed to the next Act of this Tragedy. Yet one thing farther may I not omit to show, what faith and fidelity was in this Traitor Murrey: who seemed now to have cast away all shame, all regard, not only to God and his Prince, but also of his own honour, fame and credit. For after all things brought to the terms you see, even as he would have it: yet could he not by any means bring these things to such pass, but that divers yet of the principal Nobility of Scotland favoured the Queen, & remained her faithful and loyal subjects, soliciting daily by all means they could (for by force they were not able) to compound these great garboils and troubles, and to procure by some treaty, the delivery and reducing of their Queen, whom besides their duty of allegiance, they singularly loved and honoured for her liberality, clemency, wisdom, and other singular virtues. They having therefore with earnest solicitation procured, that Murrey was at the last content to come to a parley with them, and to give them safe conduct (which he did, with such other assurance by promise confirmed by oath and writing, of free passing and repassing with safety, as they thought sufficient, and so might, if there had been left in him any honour, honesty, fear of God, or shame of the world) behold, even in the midst of their talk and conference about pacification of their great troubles, he caused violent hands to be suddenly laid on the Duke of Chastleroy, the most Noble and principal Peer of that Realm: and on that grave, stout, and faithful Noble man the Lord Harris, In Cronograp. Pontaci Burdeg. and cast them both into close and strait prison, contrary to his promise, faith, safe conduct, and assurance given unto them. What Turk would so have used himself? How evidently did this part show, that he was rather of a Punic, then of a Christian● faith? How truly says the wiseman; Proverbior. 18. Impius, cum in profundum venerit, contemnit: sed sequitur eum ignominia & opprobrium. The wicked man, when he is come to the bottom of iniquity, becometh unpudent: but shame & reproach followeth him. Which you shall soon see verified in this man, who se●ed now to think himself in such security, as he contemned all honest respects, conscience, honour, honesty, faith, fear of God or any other thing that good men use to regard in all their actions. This bastard Earl having now by these bloody & faithless steps attained to that absolute regiment of the Realm of Scotland, by the murder of David the Secretary, of that goodly young Prince the Lord Darley, the traitorous imprisoning o● the Queen his Sovereign, the shameful slandering of her, and the violente pulling from her, and sea●ing into his bloody claws not only all her ●ewels and treasures, but her dear child also and only comfort, now remaining to take his turn the same way his father was sent, ere he should grow up to any years and discretion to take notice of these things: it remained, that God (having for such causes, as to his providence were best known, permitted this wicked man, being left over to his own lusts, thus far to proceed in his mischief) would now both by show of his mercy and justice, give matter to the fourth Act of this Tragedy. He therefore casting down from his high heavenvly Throne a pitiful eye, and inclining his merciful ear to the rueful lamentations of this woeful, innocent, and desolate Lady crying to him day and night for some comfort & redress of these so many & so intolerable wrongs done unto her, did first of his Divine mercy and compassion miraculousely deliver this precious jewel, this Noble and innocent Queen, out of the strongest prison of Scotland, thoroughly furnished with numbers of soldiers, environed with large deep waters, and guarded by the very brother of this traitor Murrey, with the assistance and lewd advise of their dishonest mother. This being done by God's wonderful providence, the Queen tendering not so much the recovery of her Crown, as her honour and fame, by that wretched Murrey & his Complices so shamefully touched, and unjustly impaired with many, that known no more o● these deep practices, then that that was openly given forth (to her slander) by the said Murrey and his fautors, and now ●f●soues pursued by the said Murrey by violence and force of armed men to have been murdered in open field, if by the slaughter and death of many her faithful subjects her own life had not been redeemed: she laying aside all other respects took her way into England▪ where the Father and Mother of her murdered husband dwelled, by whose means and good assistance she nothing doubted● but to get this soul matter indifferently examined, the truth to be bolted out, and thereby her innocency made clear to the world, by the just revenge that the Noble men of that Realm, assisted with her own loyal subjects in Scotland, would take upon those her rebels and most unnatural murderers of her dear husband. But when her Highness coming with this honourable intent, was by God's guiding safely arrived in England: behold, she being at her first landing gently received, was (alas) soon after apprehended, and after a sort, cast there again into prison. So great was the solicitation of her Adversaries, and so great an impression had the slanderous bruits and traitorous practices of the said Murrey and his friends made there in the minds not only of the Noble men, but almost ●f all others generally. Howbeit God that known the secrets of all, after this notorious show of his merciful compassion by the miraculous delivery of this innocent Lady out of the hands of her greatest enemies, that intended her death, into a more mild prison, where she was safe from such bloody attempts (which she did with reason fearfully expect in the other every hour) permitted Satan soon after to pay certain the principal instruments and advamcers of this his service with their due deserved hire. For first he suffered a spirit of frenzy to enter into the person of that Noble young Prince the Earl of Arrane elder son to the Duke of Chastleroy: which Earl of Arrane being in France of great estimation for his goodly person, wit, courage, and nobility, and having there great charge, credit, and very honourable entertainment, was by this traitor Murrey, and an Ambassador than liggier there (whom I will forbear to name) so finely practised with (being promised, that if he would join with Murrey in these attempts, he should have in England & Scotland double the entertainment he h●● there, and perhaps marry with the best in England, whereof they gave him diverse ways no small show of great likelihood) that he unwisely condescending to their lewd counsel & crafty persuasions, left the very honourable estate and entertainment that he had in France, & becoming upon these hopes one of murrey's confederates, repaired into Scotland, and soon after into England. But finding in time, that things fell not out to the answering of his hope, and that he failed both of the wife and double entertainment that was promised him: he fell beside himself, or rather stark mad, and so living certain years, at the last he died in plain Lunacy, and in very miserable case. another great man yet living, a principal member of this conspiracy, is displaced of the regiment (which, next Murrey, he looked for) by such as h● thought had favoured him and his doings. But yet more notable was the payment, that by God's sufferance, the Devil gave of deserved hire to his principal servant the Earl himself. For h● being now in his chief pride, enjoying all his desires, & thinking himself to have made so sure with all his Adversaries, that he needed not to fear by them any disturbance of his great felicity, was suddenly stricken, as he road in the midst of his Guard, with two or three pellets that were at once shot at him by a Gentleman (no Papist, as the world knoweth) to whom he had in his late government done in private very great and insolent injuries. And with the blow falling presently from his horse, soon after he gave up his sinful ghost amid his tyrannical government of that Realm in all causes both spiritual and temporal, whereunto he was climmed by such means, as you have herded before. hereupon the Nobility there, are fallen also among themselves to such dissension, & all the subjects to such a lawless looseness (while each man attending chiefly to that increase of his faction, malefactors are rather cherist●d and born out in all their enormous facts, than any one justly punished and bridled by due course of law) as is like shortly by confusion to breed the utter ruin of that Realm. For such is the natural agreement between the ●ead and the members, and such the secret instinct between the true lawful Prince, and the multitude of loyal subjects, as while their true and natural head is detained from them, & they neither will, nor can in reason, yield to the regiment of any usurper, there is not to be hoped or looked for any other, than such invasions as they have already tasted, and finally in short space a final ruin and desolation of the whole Realm of Scotland. Behold herein the marvelous justice of God, not only in notorious permitting th● just punishment by speedy death of the chief particular Authors in this to true a Tragedy: but in suffering these plagues to light also on the whole Realm, where such foul attempts could found not only free course, but abettors also and partetakers in such disloyal enterprises and wicked proceed. Of which their desolation and plagues, when they have struggled all they can one against an other, yet can they not hope for any other stay, till they uniting themselves again in the fear of God and mutual accord, do by all the good means they possibly may, seek to be reconciled in all humble, dutiful and unfeigned sor●, to their lawful, natural, and most gracious Queen: and to procure the reducing and restoring of her to her liberty, honour, and kingdom, whereof by the very lewd practices before laid forth and well known to the world, her Highness hath been, and presently is, so wrongfully deprived. And now, good Cousin, having accomplished your desire, & also satisfied mine own duty and conscience in revealing unto you the truth of these matters, for so farforth as I take on me to say, forasmuch as oftentimes it happeneth, that such a private conference groweth in time to be made more common, and conjecturing by the manner of your earnest and curious demand, to have it with all such circumstances and particulars, as I could learn, that your meaning might be (perhaps) in time to make it more public & common to the world, than yet you would be acknown of to me: and considering, that thereby it should be by all likelihood most conversant with the Nobility and Gentlemen of this Nation of Scotland: I have therefore thought it convenient, unto the end of this Letter or discourse to add these few words, as a brief Exhortation unto them, unto whom for many respects I wish well, and have compassion of their error, and do not doubt (for the good natures that I know to be in sundry of the chief of them) but that they will both take it well, and in time as they may, apply them s●lues thereunto. And thus I bid you right heartily farewell. AN EXHORTATION TO those Noble men of Scotland, that remain yet maintainers and defenders of the unnatural and dishonourable practi●es against the Queen. AND now, my Lords of the Realm of Scotland, you that ●●ue unadvisedly 〈◊〉 yourselves to be made the instruments & joint-workers of these mischieffes by the crafty persuasions of th●● bastard Earl, and are yet by other corrupt & indirect means induced to persist and continued in the maintenance and defence of the same: to you I will now be hold for a few words to direct my speech. If the just consideration of the subtle persuasions and deceitful pretences made unto you from time to time by the said Earl Murrey, who never opened unto you the fine, end, nor mark of his traitorous ambitious mind, that aspired to usurp the Crown of that Realm, as more then manifestly appeared before he died: if those false guiles, I say, now so evident in all your eyes, suffice not to resolve you of the unlefulnes of your proceedings past in prosecuting of this enterprise, and now at length to desist therefrom: yet let the just end and the sudden fearful fall of that Earl, in the midst and height of his pride, be unto you all a spectacle and an example of God's terrible justice, and righteous revenge, that never faileth at one time or other to fall upon the Authors and woorkers of so horrible and monstrous attempts, how long soever they be sometimes differred and delayed. Consider (I beseech you) more advisedly then you have done, the very nature and quality of these your actions and attempts: and way how far they pass the limits of all honour in yourselves, how they exceed the bounds of all duty to God, to your Prince, and to your Country, & how they surmount the compass of all reason, civility, and humane nature in the judgement of the whole world. And when you have considerately bethought your s●lues upon these your errors, and have seen how marvelously you have been abused by that false Traitor, first to enter, and since to walk and wade forward in that loathsome and odious bypath of undutiful disobedience, and unnatural treasons: you are not (I trust) so utterly graceless, nor so deeply drowned in the dungeon of unsensible darkness, but that some remorse you shall feel, and motions of repentance, for your so great oversights both toward God and your Prince. And let your passed experience of your travail and turmo●le so many years continued, teach and assure you, that the farther you proceed in this vile course, the more shall you still find of that, which you have hitherto found. That is to say, that both yourselves, and your whole natural Country, by this your fault, shall sink daily deeper and deeper, as it were, into a bottomless Gogmyre of infamous calamities to horrible to be herded of. Out of which to raise and recover yourselves and your Country, there is none other way left you, but again to untwist the thread, that yourselves have helped to spin, beginning first with unteined contrition, and calling to God for mercy and forgiveness for these your great outrages, and acknowledging withal, (as the truth is in deed) that since you first fell from him, and forsook the true faith of your noble Progenitors (which for fleshly liberty and covetousness of the Church goods you first abandoned) that by this spiritual blindness wilfully embraced, you had never since the grace to esteem Civil justice, nor to observe the common obedience that all subjects, both Christian, and Ethnical are born in, and bond unto. And secondly, with all humility and faithful meaning, to confess your errors & faults unto the Queen's Majesty your Sovereign, and to crave for the same her gracious pardon, with promise and performance, by your faithful uttermost service in her obedience, even to the shedding of your bloods at her commandment, to redubbe and acquit to your powers, your offences past. And if any respect of pride, wilfulness, corruption by reward, or unlawful oath or promise shall withhold you yet any longer from the same, besides that ruin that you see your Country suffereth, the weakening and consumption of your Nobility & people, the lying waste and unoccupying of your natural soil, the extinguishment of justice, & the unbridled education of your youth in all unleeful liberty and mischief: besides all these (I say) behold with what eyes the whole world abroad, Christian and Heathen, must look upon you: upon yourselves, I say, that are the contrivers thereof, & what the present tongues and pens of all sorts of men must say of the same. Is there any one of yourselves (admit that he be willingly blind) yet so unsensible, that he palpably feeleth not the inextricable Labyrinth & confusion, into which yourselves are entered, and have led your whole Nation after you. Hath any of you so far stripped yourselves from the nature of man, that you feel nothing of the slaughter and murder of so many of your Countrymen, servants, friends, & kinsfolk, as in these u years have perished among you? Can any of you deny, but that since your renouncing of your dutiful obedience unto your iu●● Sovereign, in which you were born (neither with so many bloody battles as have since been fought for the same, neither with so many friendly treaties and amicable meetings, as among your selves have been made for ending of this controversy, neither yet with any counsel or authority foreign or domestical) you could never yet reduce yourselves to accord upon any other Prince or form of Regiment, that could continued six months together, without being dissolved by some of yourselves that were parties unto it? Is there any among you so void of honour, so destitute of civility, or grown so barbarous, that he feeleth no shame of the Moorish unfaithfulness, & daily violation of every man's promise & faith given to other, even among yourselves, so farforth, that thereby in effect is taken away all mutual comfort, that man's nature taketh in conversing friendly one with another? Is all natural love so extincted in you, that you feel no pain of the many incursions and foreign forces, of the burnings, wastes and slaughters, that by the hands of your pretended friends (Enemies in deed) have been of late committed among you? Or is there no spark of wisdom or common reason left in you, that might show you, what must be the inevitable end of this intestine dissension & civil discord among yourselves: wherein whosoever winneth, only Scottish blood is shed, and the Realm of Scotland loseth, to the final extirpation of yourselves and your Families for ever? If none of all these do yet suffice, to persuade you to retire in time from these your insolences: then behold, I beseech you, how manifestly to the eyes of all the world the wisdom of God confoundeth your practices, and his merciful providence convinceth your folly. For, see you not, that even now amids these your unlawful labours to renounce your obedience, & while you the natural subjects of her Majesty have done your uttermost, and yet do still turmoil (without pretence of just cause) to depose and deprive your undoubted Sovereign, even now, I say, while you are warmest in working of this, behold, the Royal Nobility and people of England, in number far above you, and your equals at lest (in every degree) both in living, in parentage, and in all other gifts of God and of nature, and (who might in comparison of you be accounted but as strangers or enemies to her Majesty your Sovereign) do with one uniform mind adore & embrace her, and with all due devotion account her for their Queen in succession, when God shall so dispose. Close therefore no longer your eyes so obstinately against God's wondered work. You plainly see, that whom you would spot and defame, God will have cleared and showed to be guiltless: whom you with armed forces did imprison and restrain, God set at liberty without any other hand or mean, then of her own wisdom & policy: & whom you her subjects & vassals would dispossess of a meaner kingdom, unto which she was born, God will have advanced by strangers to a far greater and more ample Dominion. If this much you see not, behold then the blindness of heart you are entered into, and see the plain reprobate sense, unto which the justice of God hath delivered you over: & if you see it, and will yet persist in it, though God's grace fail you, let yet ●he vain fame of the world and the idle reputation of men, somewhat move you. Suffer not yourselves from men to be changed into unreasonable beasts, and to be accounted savage and wild, wood or stark mad, as all they are, that being once unwares stepped over the shoes in an unsavoury place, will yet run headlong forward, till he sink in the same over head and cares, rather than he 〈◊〉 in time retire, and cleanse his shoe again. It is humane to fall and to err, but it is devilish to persist and continued. It is no shame to return from evil, but the shame is to defend evil, & wilfully to rest therein. You have forsooth examples enough, that invincibly do prove, that there is no time passed for your recovery, if you wil For many are there yet living among you, that once were parties with you, whom God's grace and their own honours and wisdoms have brought to see their error, and to reform the same: whereby they are every way restored both to their Prince's favour, and to their own reputation in the judgement of all men. Fear not therefore, nor forbear not any longer to follow their example, and to take that safe way, that they have trodden before you, which is safe and assured for yourselves presently, for your families & successions to come, and for your souls eternally. If you think the weight of your crimes to be more heinous, then can easily be pardoned: behold your Sovereign's clemency, that singularly shines among and above all other her princely virtues, wherewith she is abundantly adorned. I need not in this to spend many words, the examples thereof are so many, so fresh, and so sufficiently testified by the experience of many of yourselves, upon whom she hath exercised and put in ure the lesson of the Gospel, Matt. 18. that teacheth none end to be of forgiving offenders, that do in time duly seek it. Neither are you ignorant, that of herself she is both grateful of nature, and wise in policy: by both which she must of necessity be induced, both heartily to forgive them that now heartily turn unto her, and to see that the state of her Realm, and of her own person also are presently such, that as it were in deed no policy for her to do otherwise, so may your fidelities and services now stand he in such stead, as may justly deserve the pardon you crave, and bind her in honour to remember them for ever. If Gods holy word (which you pretend to adore) do manifestly threaten a terrible revenge to them that grieve and oppress the widow or orphan (were they the poorest that may go on the ground): And if the state and dignity of Gods anointed be so sacred in his sight, that he forbiddeth the same once to be ●ouched: shall these your insolences then against your Sovereign in her desolate widowhood escape unpunished, she being ●ch a Queen, as for whom it seemeth that even from her birth not Scotland alone, but England, France, and Ireland to have seemed to contend which of them should have her for their Governess & Queen: yea, whom God himself (foreknowing by his Divine prescience, what a Paragon of virtue she should prove) seemeth verily to have appointed to be Queen in time of all sour Realms. Finally behold, what hath been the event and success of all such seditious conspiracies in all times and ages before your days. Peruse the Histories both of your own, and of all other Countries. And if you little esteem the memory of things far passed, behold the experience of these present days. Look into all Countries and Nations near adjoining unto you, and you shall found, that none of them hath escaped from rebellion & intestine sedition within the time of your own memories, nor that yet they are clearly delivered of the dregs of the same. And what hath (I pray you) ensued thereon? They have kept in deed a great stur for a time, but what have the Authors and movers gained thereby, other than their own utter ruin & infamy for ever? And what is become of that they have strived for? When they have long contended mutually among themselves, and when each hath spilled much of others blood, and many an honest man dead in the quarrel: the matter for the most part remains as it was, and little or nothing bring they to pass of the huge alterations that they attempt, nor never shall, thereof assure you. For the Majesty of God that is ever one and the same, never prospereth the unlawful attempts of Subjects against their Princes, enterprised by private authority. Let Machiavelli say what he list, & believe him who will: you that are his disciples, to your own perditions you shall found the end as I tell you. For besides that Divine authority so promises it, and worldly experience so teacheth it, very reason also showeth, that it can be none otherwise. For where the foundation is faulty & hollow, the more weight that is heaped and builded thereon, the sooner it bringeth the whole to the ground. And what hath been the foundation of all these your garboils, oath yourselves do know, the world seethe, and I have briefly told you, as this place will permit. Whereupon to build and heap on, any more of the kind of stuff, you shall ●inde it not only vain and fruitless, but plainly pernicious, and to work your own destructions. All men that have either learning, wit or common sense, discovering daily more and more the infinite calamities, and the very gasping death, as it were, of their whole Nation & Country fast to approach by mean of these uproars and stirs, already do, and daily will wax weary thereof, detest the cause, and give you over in the plain field: and so would have done (no doubt) ere this, if the sweet taste of forcine rewards had not held them more, than any devotion they have now to you or your cause. If still you depend and hope upon other Prince's assistance: that will but deceive you. For as it is not vnknow●n, from whence you have had your support hitherto: so doth all the world well know withal, that for others own policy only, and not at all for yours, you were at the first suborned, and ever since maintained, to do, as you have done: and to be but the ministers and instruments in deed of their private practices, that neither long shall need your ministery therein, nor shall not for ever be able to sustain you in the same, but shall and will, care it be long, even for their own better policy also, jointly with all other Princes abroad, abhor and detest the perilous precedent, that herein you give to the great multitude that are subjects born every where. And albeit some of them do for the time serve themselves of you: yet doubt you nothing of it, but that even they that so do, see well enough, know right well, and judge both you and your doings to be as they are, and will no longer spot and distain their Princely personages and honourable vocations with the maintenance of so dishonourable attempts, and of so dangerous examples to all monarchs and Kings: no longer, I say, then while of mere necessity, they shall think themselves thereto constrained by their own policy, but shall then leave you in the midst, and let you go as you are, to your own perpetual infamies, and to the rasing and extirpation of your names and succession for ever, if you do not revoke your selves, and retire in time: which that you may do, God of his mercy grant you the grace, etc. FINIS.