The manner of the death and execution of Arnold Cosbie, for murdering the Lord Boorke, who was executed at Wanswoorth towns end on the 27. of januarie 1591.  
With certain verses written by the said Cosby in the time of his imprisonment, containing matter of great effect, as well touching his life as also his penitency before his death.  
Imprinted for William Wright.  
1591.   

The manner of the death and execution of Arnold Cosbie, for murdering the Lord Bourke.  
Immediately after that Arnold Cosbie had received judgement, as you have before heard, he had his hands fast bound, and by the knight Marshals men was committed unto the marshalsea, where he had learned preachers came and conferred with him, showing him that this life was but frail and transitory, and in no sort comparable unto the life to come, for therein consisted all joy, pleasure, rest, solace, and continual comfort and that he might be assured to dwell and live for ever among the Angels of of God, if so by repentance of his former sins he would now call upon God, and steadfastly believe that by faith in Christ jesus, he should have free remission of all his sins which from time to time he had committed. By means of which godly conferences, the said Arnold Cosby called to mind the state wherein he had before lived, and in what estate he now stood, and therewithal comparing the one with the other, etc. seeing his sudden downfall through ●is pride and folly before committed, he burst forth into bitter tears and grievously lamented both his folly and his fall, wishing that he had never been borne to perform an act so detestable, whereby he had lost the favour of his prince, and good will of her people, not being able to make satisfaction for the least drop of blood which he had wilfully wished, neither could he ever be pardoned of the heinous sin which he thereby committed, but only by the mercy of God which was ready (as he alleged) to rfreshe all penitent sinners that sorrowed for their offences even from the bottom of their hearts. Thus meditating upon the New Testament, and having continual conference with these that came to comfort him, he sometime red and sometime wrote such things as might best content his woeful mind: until Wednesday about nine of the clock in the morning, at which time he was conveyed from the marshalsea in a cart unto Wansworth towns end, where upon a high hill a gibbet was set up, and being brought thither by the knight Marshal's man he was taken from the cart, and placed at the foot of the said hill, where at his coming he found the Earl of Ormond, with many knights, captains and Gentlemen, who came to see him suffer death, where he found at his coming Doctor Fletcher Lord Bishop of Bristol and Almoner unto her majesty, to comfort him against the fear of death, who persuaded him to defy murder and to acknowledge his offence: which he did openly confess before all the people, and showed himself sorry for the same, ask forgiveness both of God and the world, and therewithal desired her majesty to forgive and forget his offence, so as it might be hereafter no blot or blemish to his kindred or allies. Then after prayers which the prisoner seemed to pour forth from a penitent heart, confessing that he had before committed sundry heinous offences, still calling upon God to forgive him even to the last gasp, he was turned off from the ladder and there hanged till he was dead, and now remaineth in the placed hanged up in chains, according to his former judgement.   

ARNOLD Cosby's ultimum vale to the vain world.  
❧ An Elegy written by himself in the Marshalsea after his condemnation.  
Break heart, be mute my sorrows past compare,  
Cosbie complain no more, but sit and die,  
Tears are no tokens of such dreariment,  
As thy true grief pours to the angry heavens,  
The heavens offended with thy foul misdeeds,  
O great Commander of this glorious round,  
The workmanship of thine immortal hand,  
Thou that dost ride upon the Cherubins,  
And tunest the deeps in dreadful harmony,  
Cast down thine eye upon a wretched soul,  
And from thy throne of grace great jacobs' God  
Rain mercy on me, miserable man,  
Fallen into snares of sin and shameful death,  
From thee sweet Saviour, Saviour of the world.  
O world, vain world, unconstant, & unkind,  
Why hast thou bred me, nursed me, brought me up,  
To see this day of sorrow and of shame:  
Cosbie complain. Captains and men of war,  
With whom I whilom spent my careless days,  
Days dated but to this, to end in shame,  
Farewell, adieu to you and all the rest  
That follow arms: and arms and life adieu,  
From arms and life I pass drenched in the pit  
diggeth by my desperate hands hands full of blood.  
Bleed heart to think what these accursed hands  
Have perpetrated, Pardon heaven and earth,  
And gentle Lord misled by my amis,  
Foully by me sent to thy longest home,  
O pardon Cosby's cruel mind,  
His mind enraged, and gentle blood by wrath  
And fury tainted and empoisoned.  
Why do I kill my doefull dying heart,  
With sad rehearsal of this heavy chance.  
O death rock me asleep, Father of heaven  
That hast sole power to pardon sins of men,  
Forgive the faults and folly of my youth,  
My youth misspent in waist and wantonness,  
And for sweet jesus sake forgive my soul,  
Foully defiled with this above the rest,  
This wickedness, this hard unworthy deed.  
And lastly you whose fame I have defiled,  
My kin, my Country men, friends and allies,  
Pardon, o pardon, such as men to men  
Can give, I beg for wronging you in all,  
For shaming you in this my wretched end,  
The fruitless crop, the meed of my deserts  
My bad, my base deserts, sweet Friends forget,  
Friends, country men, and kinsfolks all forget,  
My name, my face, my fact, o blot me out,  
Out of the world, put me out of your thoughts,  
Or if you think, o think I never was,  
Or if you think I was, think that I fell,  
Before some fort, some hold in Belgia,  
With this suppose beguile your sorrows friends,  
Think that I fell before the Canon's mouth,  
Even in mine honours height that blessed day,  
When in advancement of my name, I left  
My country's enemy in his base revolt:  
A wretched man to talk of honours height,  
Fallen so basely into the pit of shame,  
The pit of death: my God, my God forgive me,  
Next to my God, my country pardon me,  
Whose honour I have stained and laws infringe  
And thou my sovereign Mistress and my Queen,  
Bright star of England's globe, forgive my fact,  
Nor let it touch thy Royal Princely heart,  
That Cosbie hath misdone so heinously.  
The circle of my time is compassed,  
Arrived to the point where it began.  
World, country, kin, and friends farewell farewell,  
Fly thou my soul to heaven the haven of bliss,  
O body bear the scourge of thine amiss.