THE FIVE years OF KING James, OR, The Condition of the State of England, and the Relation it had to other PROVINCES.  
Written by Sir FOULK GREVILL, late Lord Brook.  
LONDON, Printed for W. R. in the year, 1643.   


The five years of King James, or the Condition of the State of ENGLAND, and the Relation it had to other Provinces.  
HOwsoever every kingdom and commonwealth may be both well and uprightly governed, and that good men may be the means to support it; yet there can be no such commonwealth, but amongst the good, there will be even some evil persons: these, (whether by nature induced, or through envy and ambition, to the intent to satisfy their appetites, persuaded) do oftentimes enter into actions repugnant unto the felicity of good Government and commonwealths, and by evil causers and perverse deeds, do secretly and underhand, seek to hasten and set forward the ruin and decay of the same: These things, because they happen contrary, and beyond expectation are so much the more remarkable by how much they are sudden, and unexpected. And from hence it cometh, that no state of government can be said to be permanent, but that oftentimes those are said to be good, are by little and little converted unto those that be evil, and oftentimes changed from worse to worse, till they come to utter desolation.  
Neither is this alone proper to our commonwealth, but to all, nor to foreign kingdoms, but to our own: for although His Majesty at His coming to the crown found us vexed with many defensive wars, as that in Ireland, that in the Low-countries, and almost public against Spain, auxiliary in France, and continually in military employments, although he found it lacerate, and torn, with divers factions of Protestants, Papists, and others, from amongst whom, sprung some evil men, that endeavoured to set into combustion the whole State, yet nevertheless he established a peace, both honourable and profitable, with all neighbour Princes, and by relation through all Europe; so that neither our friends, nor our enemies might be either feared or suspected.  
After this general peace was concluded, and the working heads of divers dangerous Papists were confined to a certain course of life, that is, peace; they now petition for ●olleration, for releases of vexation, to have liberty of conscience, and forsooth, because they cannot have these things amongst them, they contrive a most horrible and devilish plot by gunpowder to blow up the Parliament, even the whole State and command of this kingdom, and so at one puff, to conclude all this peace, and by that means to procure an unruly and unseemly avarice of this settled government; and this not so much to establish their own Religion, (for which purpose they pretended it) but to establish their own power and pre-eminence, and to raise some private Families to greatness and dignity, that so faction being nourished, and that jurisdiction established, they might with great facility suppress whom they please, and support their own State. Thus may we see that settled governments do cherish in themselves their own destructions, and their own subjects are oftentimes cause of their own ruin, unless God of his mercy prevent it.   

Of the domestic affairs, and of the lascivious course of such on whom the King had bestowed the honour of Knighthood.  
THis evil being discovered by the Lord Mounteagle, and overpassed, divers discontents happened, some between the Civilians and Common Lawyers concerning Prohibitions; And for that there was one Doctor cowel stood stiffly against the Lord Cook, divers discontents were nourished between the Gentry and commonalty concerning enclosure, and it grew out into a petty Rebellion, which by the same was conjectured, not to happen so much for the thing itself, as for to find how the people stood affected to the present State, whereby divers private quarrels, and secret combustions were daily breaking out, private families, one sided against another; and of these, Protestants against Papists, they thereby endavouring to get a head, and from small beginnings to raise greater Rebellions and discontents, showed themselves heady, and speaks publicly, what durst not heretofore have been spoken in corners; in outward appearance Papists were favoured, Masses almost publicly administered, Protestants discountenanced, dishonest men honoured, those that were little less than Sorcerers, and Witches preferred, private quarrels nourished, but especially between the Scottish and the English duels in every secret maintained, divers, sects of vicious persons of particular Titles pass unpunished or unregarded, as the sect of roaring-boys, Boneventors, Bravadors, Guarterers, and such like, being persons prodigal, and of great expense, who having run themselves in debt, were constrained to run into faction to defend them from danger of the Law; these received maintenance from divers of the Nobility, and not a little as was suspected from the Earl of Northampton; which persons, though of themselves they were not able to attempt any enterprise, yet faith, honesty, and other good Arts being now little set by, and Citizens through lasciviousness consuming their estates, it was likely their number would rather increase then diminish. And under these pretences, they entered into many desperate enterprises, and scarce any durst walk the streets with safety after nine at night. So to conclude in outward show there appeared no certain affection, no certain obedience, no certain government amongst us.  
Such persons on whom the King had bestowed particular honours, either through pride of that, or their own prodigality, lived at high rates, and with their greatness brought in excess of riot, both in clothes and diet. So our ancient customs were abandoned, and that strictness and severity that had wont to be amongst us, the English scorned and contemned, every one applauding strange or new things, though never so costly, and for the attaining o● them neither sparing purse nor credit, that prices of all sorts of commodities are raised, and those ancient Gentlemen, who had left their Inheritance whole, and well furnished with goods and chattels, (having thereof kept good houses unto their sons, lived to see part consumed in riot and excess, and the rest in possibility to be utterly lost: The holy estate of Matrimony most perfidiously broken, and amongst many made but a may-game, by which means divers private families hath been subverted, brothell-houses in abundance tolerated, and even great persons prostituting their bodies, to the intent to satisfy their appetites, and consume their substance, repairing to the City, and to the intent to consume their virtues also, lived dissolute lives. And many of their Ladies and Daughters, to the intent to maintain themselves according to their dignities, prostitute their bodies in shameful manner; alehouses, dy●ing-houses, taverns, and places of vice, and iniquity beyond measure abounding in many places, there being as much extortion for sin, as there is racking for Rents; and as many ways to spend money as are windings and turnings in towns and streets, so that to outward appearance, the evil seem to over top the good, and evil intentions and counsels rather prospered, than those that were profitable to the commonwealth.   

Of my Lord of Northampton's coming to honour, the cause of the division between the Hollanders and the English, between the Scottish and English, between the English and Irish  
NOw Henry Howard, youngest son of the Duke of Norfolk, continuing a Papist from his infancy unto this time, beginning to grow eminent, and being made famous heretofore for his learning, having been ●rained and brought up a long time in Cambridge, by the persuasion of the King, changeth his opinion of Religion in outward appearance, and to the intent to reap unto himself more honour became a Protestant, for which cause, he was created Earl of Northampton, and had the King's favours bountifully bestowed upon him; first, the office of privy-seal, than the Wardenship of Cinque Ports, and lastly the refusal of being Treasurer: This man was of a subtle and fine wit, of a good proportion, excellent in outward courtship, famous for secret insinuation, and for cunning flatteries, and by reason of these flatteries, became a fit man for the conditions of these times, and was suspected to be scarce true unto his sovereign; but rather endeavouring by some s●cret ways and means, to set abroad new plots for to procure innovation. And for this purpose it was thought he had a hand in the contention that happened amongst the Hollanders and English concerning the Fishing, the Hollanders claiming right to have the Fishing in the Levant, and the English claiming right; upon this contention, they fell from claim, to words of anger; from words of anger, to blows; so that there died many of them, and a star was left for further quarrel, but that it was salved by wise Governors, and the expectation of some disappointed.  
Nevertheless the Papists, being a strong faction, and so great a man being their favourer, grew into heads malice, and endeavour to make the insolency of the Scots to appear, who to this intent that they might be the more hated of the English, not contented with their present estate, would enter into outrages; some count●rfeit the seal Manuel, others quip the Nobility in disdain, and a third sort secretly contrive the English death, whereby it happened besides common clamour, that there were added secret discontents of private persons, which caused jealousy to happen in those two Nations. But His Majesty, being both wise and worthy, foresaw the evil, and prevented it by Proclamation, by which means these clamours are stopped, and the injury and offences of both parties redressed. The Irish seeing these sores, and hearing of these misdemeanours (for they have their intelligents here also) begin to grow obstinate, and make religion a pretence to colour their intentions; for which cause they stand out, and protest loss of life and goods, rather than to be forced from their opinion, being wavering and unconstant, rather thirsting for Rebellion, to the intent to purchase their own liberty, than peace; every new alteration gives occasion of discontent, and causes new complaints to be brought to the King's ear, under pretence whereof they grew contemptuous to their Governors, and haters of the English laws.  
The captains and soldiers grew negligent for want of pay, the great men envying one another through private covetousness, and many insolences being suffered, causeth there also to be nourished many misdemeanours to the ruin of that Government.  
These things being thus handled, administers occasion to the Papists to hope for some alteration and change. And that as a body that is violent consumeth itself, without some special cause to maintain it, so these occurrents will be the cause of their own destruction: At this time there was a Leaguer in Denmark, and shortly after another in the Low-countries, but to what end their beginnings were intended is yet unknown.   

The rising of the Earl of Summersault; his favour and greatness with the King, and his Parentage, and discontent.  
AMong other accidents that happened about these times, the rising of one Master Car, was most remarkable; a man borne of mean parentage, inhabitant in a Village near Edinburgh in Scotland, and there, through the favour of friends, was preferred to His Majesty to be one of his Pages, for he kept twelve, according to the custom of the French, and so continued it so long as he was in Scotland; afterwards coming into England, the counsel thought it more honourable to have so many footmen to run with His Majesty, as the Queen had before; these Youths had clothes put to their backs according to their places, and 50●. a piece in their purses, and so were dismissed the Court.  
This youth amongst the rest, having thus lost his fortunes, to repair them again, makes haste into France, and there continued until he had spent all his means and money; So that now being bare in a strange country without friends, or hope to obtain his expectation, returns back for England, bringing nothing with him but the Language, and a few French fashions; nevertheless by the help of some of his country men, and ancient acquaintance, he was preferred unto the Lord Haies a Scotchman, and favourite of the Kings, to wait upon him as his Page: not long after, that Lord amongst many others was appointed to perform a Tilting, who bearing an affection to this young man, as well in respect he was his country man, as that he found him to be of a bold disposition, comely visaged, and of proportionable personage commixed with a courtly presence, prefers him to carry his device to the King, according to the custom in those pastimes used; Now when he should come to light from off his Horse to perform his Office, his Horse starts, throws him down, and breaks his leg: this accident being no less strange than sudden in such a place, causes the King to demand who he was, answer was made his name was Car, he taking notice of his name, and calling to remembrance, that such a one was his Page, causes him to be had into the Court, and there provided for him, until such time as he was recovered of his hurt, after in process of time, the young man is called for, and made one of his bedchamber to His Majesty, he had not long continued in his place, before (by his good endeavours and diligent service in his Office) the King showed extraordinary favour unto him, doubling the favour of every action in estimation, so that many are obscured, that he may be graced and dignified.  
Thus the hand of the diligent maketh rich, and the dutiful servant cometh to honour, he of all other (either without fraud to obtain, or desert to continue it) is made the King's favourite, no suit, no petition, no grant, no l●tter, but Mast●r Car must have a hand in it; so that great rewards are bestowed upon him by suitors, and large sums of money by His Majesty; by which means his wealth increased with his favour, and with both, Honours: for virtue and riches dignify their owners, being from a Page raised to the dignity of Knighthood: After his favour increasing with his honours, there was no demand but he had it, no suit but he obtained it, whether it were crown, lands, lands forfeited or confiscated; nothing so dear but the King bestowed upon him, whereby his revenues were enlarged, and his glory so resplendent, that he drowned the dignity of the best of the nobility, and the eminency of such as were much more excellent. By which means envy (the common companion of greatness) procures him much discontent, but yet passing through all disadventures, continues his favour: and men being drawn to applaud that which is either strange or new; began to sue him, and most to purchase him to be their friend and assistant in Court: so great and eminent was his favour.   

Of the breach that happened between the Earl of E●●ex and his Countess, her hatred towards him, his lenity, her lightness, his constancy.  
Now the cares of the vulgar being filled with the fortunes of this gentleman, it ministereth occasion to pass to their opinions, concerning his worth and desert; some extol and laud his virtues, others the proportion of his personage, many his outward courtship, and most as they stood affected, either praised or dispraised him, insomuch that amongst the rest, the Countess of Essex, (a woman of this time did not greatly affect her Husband) and withal, being of a lustful appetite, prodigal of expense, covetous of applause, ambitious of honour, and light of behaviour, having taken notice of this young gentleman's prosperity, and great favour that was showed towards him above others, in hope to make some profit of him, most advances him to every one, commending his worth, spirit, audacity, and agility of body, so that her ancient, lawful, and accustomed love towards her Lord begins to be obscured, and those embraces that seemed heretofore pleasing, are turned into frowns, and harsh unseemly words usher her discontents unto her husband's ears.  
The good Earl carrying an extraordinary affection towards her, and being a man of a mild and courteous condition, with all honest and religious care, ready rather to suffer then correct these outrages, patiently admonisheth her to a better course of life, and to remember, that now all her fortune dependeth upon his prosperity, and therefore she offered more injury to herself, then hurt unto him: yet nevertheless she persisted, and from bare words returned to actions, thereby giving people occasion to pass their censure of this disagreement; some attributing it to the inconstancy and looseness of the Countess, others to the Earls travails, and that in his absence she continued most unconstant, of a loose life, suffering her body to be abused, and others to make shipwreck of her modesty, and to abrogate the rights of marriage, but most because she could not have wherewith, to satisfy her in●atiate appetite and ambi●ion, her husband living a private life.  
For these causes, I say, she run at random, and played her pranks as the toy took her i'th' head, sometimes publicly, sometime privately, whereby she disparaged her reputation, and brought herself into the contempt of the world; yet notwithstanding, the Earl retained her with him, allowed her honourable attendance, gave her means according to her place, and showed an extraordinary affection, endeavouring rather by friendly and fair persuasions to win her, then to become super●idious over her.  
But these things little avail, where affections are carried to another scope, and those things that to the judgement of the wise become fit to be used, are of others contemned and despised, so that almost all men speak of the looseness of her carriage, and wonder that the Earl will suffer her in those courses; whereupon he modestly tells her of it, giving her a check for her inordinate courses, showing how much it both dishonoured him, and disparaged her in persisting in the eye of the world after so loose and unseemly a sort● desiring her to be more civil at home, and not so oft abroad, and thus they parted.   

Of my Lord treasurer's death; of Master Overbury's coming out of France; his entertainment, he grows into favour.  
MY Lord Treasurer Cecil growing into years, having been a good statesman, the only supporter of the Protestant faction, discloser of treasons, and the only Mercury of our time, having been well acquainted with the affairs of this commonwealth, falls into a dangerous sickness, and in process of time, through the extremity of the malady dies, not without suspicion of poison, according to the opinion of some, others say of secret disease, some naturally, and many not without the privity of Sir Robert Car, and the reason of their opinion was, because the King upon a time having given Sir Robert the sum of twenty thousand pounds to be paid by my Lord Treasurer, Sir Robert Car was denied it, upon which denial, there grew some difference bet●●●ne them; the King was privy to it after this manner, my Lord having told out five thousand pounds, laid it in a passage Gallery: the King demands whose money that was, answer was made by my Lord Treasurer, that it was but the fourth part of that which His Majesty had given unto Sir Robert Car; whereupon the King retired from his former grant, and wished Sir Robert to satisfy himself with that, holding it to be a great gift: he being thus crossed in his expectation, harboured in his heart the hope of revenge, which after happened (as was suspected) but it is not certain, therefore I omit it.  
Upon the death of this gentleman, one Master Overbury (sometimes a Student of the Law in the Middle Temple) was newly arrived out of France, who having obtained some favour in Court beforetimes, because of some discontents, got licence to travel, and now at his return, was entertained into the favour of Sir Robert Car; whether it proceeded of any love towards him, or to the intent to make use of him, is not certain; yet nevertheless he puts him in trust with his most secret employments: In which he behaves himself honestly and discreetly, purchasing by his wise carriage in that place, the good affection and favour not only of Sir Robert, but of others also. In process of time this favour procures profit, profit treasure, treasure honour, honour larger employments, and in time better execution: For where diligence and humility are associate in great affairs, there favour is accompanied with both, so that many Courtiers, perceiving his great hopes, grew into familiarity with him; the knight's expectations are performed, and his business accomplished, rather more than less, according to his wishes: So that taking notice of his diligence to outward appearance, gives him an extraordinary countenance, uniting him into friendship with himself, in so much that to the show of the world, his bond was indissolvable, neither could there be more friendship used, since there was nothing so secret, nor any matter so private, but the Knight imparted it to Master Overbury.   

Of Mistress turner's life, how the Countess and she came acquainted. The combination of the Earl's death.  
THe Countess of Essex having harboured in her heart envy towards her husband even until this time, makes her repair unto Mistress Turner, (a Gentlewoman that from her youth had been given over to a loose kind of life) being of a low stature, fair visage, for outward behaviour comely, but in prodigality and excess most riotous; by which course of life she had consumed the greatest part of her husband's means, and her own; so that now wanting wherewith to fulfil her expectations and extreme pride, falls into evil courses, as to the prostitution of her body to common lust, to practise sorcery and enchantments, and to many little less than a flat Bawd; her husband dying, left her in a desperate estate, because of her wants; by which means, she is made apt to enter into any evil accord, and to entertain any evil motion, be it never so facinorous: A doctor's wife, who was during his life her physician, and in that time she having entertained into her company, his said wife by that means procured further acquaintance, being near of the said disposition and temperature, as Pares cum paribus facile congregantur; from thence it happened, that she was suspected even by her means and procurement before this, to have lived a loose life, for who can touch pitch and not be defiled? I say, having some familiarity with this woman, and now taking some discontent at her husband more than heretofore, by reason of her falling out with him, and his sharp answers (as he conceives) to her, repairs to her house, and there amongst other discourses, disgorges herself against her husband, whereby the cause of her grief might easily be perceived. Mistress Turner, as feeling part of her pain, pities her, and in hope of profit, being now in necessity and want, is easily drawn to effect any thing that she requires, whereupon by the report of some, it was concluded at this time between them to administer poison to the Earl, but not taking effect according to their expectation, the Countess writes unto her to this purpose.  
Sweet Turner, as thou hast been hitherto, so art thou all my hopes of good in this world: My Lord is as lusty as ever he was, and hath complained to my brother Howard, that he hath not lain with me, nor used me as his wife. This makes me mad, since of all men I loathe him, because he is the only obstacle and hindrance, that I shall never enjoy him whom I love.  
The Earl having overpast this evil, and continuing still in his prestine estate, procured not any affection, but more hatred and loathsomeness, so that it burst forth daily to my Lord's great discontent, and draws her headlong into her own distraction.   

Sir Robert Car made Viscount Rochester, the acquaintance between my Lord of Northampton and him, the new affection of the Countess.  
THe King taking great liking to this young Gentleman, to the intent that he might be no less eminent in honour, than he was powerful in wealth and substance, adorns him with the title of Viscount Rochester, bestows the Secretariship of State upon him, so that his honour and his wealth makes him famous to foreign Nations. These things coming to my Lord of Northampton's ears, having been a long time favourite in Court, and now grown into years, and by reason thereof, knowing the favour of the King to depend upon many incertainties; and although at this time he was the greater actor in State affairs, yet if this young man continued his height of glory, all his dignity would either be abated, or overshadowed, and that he had not that free access to the King's ears, which he had wont to have, endevoureth as much as in him lieth to make this Courtier either to be wholly his, or dependent upon his favour, that so having relation to him, he might make use of his greatness. And for this purpose he begins to applaud the wisdom and government of the Viscount, his virtues, outward Courtship, comely carriage, and to conclude, holding him a man of no less worth and desert, than any about the King, neither were these things spoken to private or particular persons alone, but even in the ears of the King, to the intent to confirm the King's favour towards him.  
These things coming to this gentleman's ears, takes it as a great favour from so great a personage, and therefore so much the more admires his own worth, raising his carriage above his wonted course, and in hope of better things, applauding every action is performed by the Earl, by which means there grows a kind of community betweeme them, and there wants nothing but intercourse of speech for confirmance of acquaintance, and procuring further relation either to other. Time offers opportunity; the Earl and he meets, each changeth acquaintance with acquaintance of greater familiarity, so that many times letters passed between them in their absence, and courtly discourses being present, by which means on all hands a confident amity is concluded.  
In these times the Countess of Essex being a spectator of those, and perceiving this Viscount to be still raised up unto honours daily; in hope of greater, is the more fired with a lustful desire, and the greater is her endeavours by the instigation of some of her friends to accomplish what she determined: for greatness doth not qualify, but set an edge upon lustful appetites, and where the most means are to maintain it, there the greater affections are cherished.   

The course she takes to procure affection; she combines with Doctor Forman; they conclude to bewitch the Viscount.  
IN these furious fits, she makes her repair to Mistress Turner, and begins a new complaint, whereby she makes manifest an extraordinary affection towards this young gentleman, so that she could not rest without his company, neither knew she any means to attain her ends, there being no relation nor acquaintance between them: whereupon Mistress Turner, being still her second, and ready to put any evil attempt into execution, concludes with the Countess to enchant the Viscount to affect her; And for this purpose they fall acquainted with one Doctor Forman, that dwelled at Lambeth, being an ancient Gentleman, and thought to have skill in the magic Art: This man by rewards and gifts was won to join with Mistress Turner, who now to the intent to prey upon the Countess, endeavour the best they may to enchant the Viscounts affection towards her: Much time is spent, many words of witchcraft, great cost in making Pictures of wax, crosses of silver, little babies for that use, yet all to small purpose; At length they continuing in their Sorcery, advised her to live at Court, where she had free access without control, though of small acquaintance with him whom she most respected, nevertheless, showing an aff●ble countenance towards him, hoping in process of time to attain that she required. Time offers opportunity, and amongst other, at length these two fall into league, the Countess being joyful of her prey, admires him, uses all kindness that may be to entrap him: He, whether by these enchantments, or by the lightness of his own disposition carried, is as much besotted, numbering her amongst the best women, and doubling every action in his estimation, in so much, that he could scarce rest but in her company, whereupon their meetings grew frequent, and discourses pleasant, by these means inflaming the fire of a lustful appetite.  
These things having happened so well to her expectation, causes a greet love towards these good couple, (viz.) Doctor Forman, and Mistress Turner, soliciting them with Letters, with money, and large promises, to continue still their friend, they willing to make use of their wealth, more than expecting any good they could accomplish by their Art, persist amongst her employments: Mistress Turner makes trial for herself, by which means, many sleights and accustomed tricks are practised, and now reported to return to the hurt of many; for a woman's hands being once entered into the act of sin, runs headlong to her destruction, turning those evil acts to evil ends, and endeavouring to purchase by that means profit and commodity.   

How it was thought the Earl of Northampton had a hand in the business. Invites the Viscount to supper. The Countess and he meets; places of meetings are appointed. The Earl made Chancellor of Cambridge.  
IT was vulgarly opinionated, that the Countess of Essex having sustained these discontents with her husband, acquainted her Uncle, the Earl of Northampton, of her affection especially towards the Viscount, who weighing the profit that might redound to his own employments, if there were such affinity had between them, ●eemed to give a liking towards it, and endeavoured rather to further it, then at all to dissuade her, or giving her that honest and good counsel to be dutiful to her husband, as was fitting. Howsoever the first meeting that they had, wherein there was any conference, was at the Earl's house, who invited the Viscount to supper, and there finding the Countess, they at their pleasure appointed meetings for further discourses. But whether there was any one made privy to these things it is not evident.  
But from this time the Countess and Viscount continued their loose kind of life, and as was commonly suspected, had further relation than was fitting, to the great disparagement of them both, and dishonour of so noble a House; what the issue of these things are continue in obscurity, notwithstanding the Earl of Northampton is much blamed, the Countess defamed, and the Viscount himself for his looseness suspected.  
Now was this Lord propounded at the Regent house to be Chancellor of Cambridge, the scholars fall into divers opinions, and the Ramists propound the Prince, to oppose him; this election passed of the Earl's side, he refuses, but still flatters the scholars, makes the King acquainted with it, & though willing to undertake it, yet showing an unwillingness, endeavoured rather to be urged to it, then receive it voluntarily; this was imputed, because of his oppose to the Prince, but the truth was to perceive, whether the scholar's affections were settled upon love and respect unto himself, or merely to depend upon his greatness. The King writes in his behalf to the Vicechancellor. They proceed to the new election, the Earl again is chosen, his title sent him, and he in requital sends many and plausive Letters, and that they might be the more acceptable, being sent to scholars, wrote to them in Latin, it is intolerable the flattery that he used.   

Overbury grows into grace with the King; is made Knight. The intercourse between the Countess and the Viscount made known to Overbury.  
AFter some continuance of time, Master Overbury grows eminent in Court, as well by reason of the Viscounts favour, as the good and careful diligence that he had in Court employments; so that now comparing his worth with his wealth, he is had in more respect, and the honour of knighthood bestowed upon him, with the hope of better things; this howsoever in itself it be not valuable, yet in speculators it striketh a doubt, especially in the Viscount, for sovereignty and love can abide no Paragon.  
Things that at the beginning proceed with modesty, are little or nothing regarded. But when men grow old in such things that are hateful, they make every place alike with a blushless face, committing them to the open view: By this means Overbury came acquainted with this intercourse between the Viscount and the Countess: for now they having had some time of familiarity and intercourse in remote parts, shame not to commit the sin of venery in the Court, and that to the privity of Sir Thomas, who both loathes and hates what he sees, avoiding rather than intruding himself to the knowledge of it, neither meddles he any way or other with it, but lets them alone in their vicious courses, and rather seems to be ignorant, then take any notice of it.  
Nevertheless, he is employed to carry Letters to and again between the Countess and the Viscount, some to Paternoster-row, some to Hammersmith, and others to other places of meeting, which were appointed between them, by which means comparing both actions together, he entered into the secrets of this mystery, and became acquainted with more things than the Viscount would have had him, from whence a kind of jealousy was carried towards him.   

Of the second complaint of the Earl of Essex. The Countess combines with Turner to bewitch him● it taketh effect. Formans death: One Gresham is entertained into the business.  
NOw the Earl of Essex perceiving himself to be rather less regarded, than any whit at all esteemed, enters into a new discourse with his Lady, with many protestations both of his constancy and love towards her; but with all tells her o● her looseness, of the report of the vulgar, and what a strange course of life she led, contrary to all piety and honesty, which stung the Countess to the heart, and more increased and augmented her m●lice towards him, so that in a great fury, she takes her coach, and repairs to her ancient acquaintance Mistress Turner, who according to her old custom, is ready to perform any evil act, and there they combine to bewitch the Earl, and procure frigidity quoad hanc: for this purpose Doctor Forman for the procuring of means, pictures in wax are m●de, crosses and many strange and uncouth things (for what will the devil leave unattempted to accomplish their ends?) many attempts failed, and still the Earl stood it out. At last, they framed a picture of wax, and got a thorn from a tree that bare leaves, and stuck upon the privity of the said picture, by which means they accomplished their desires.  
This being done according to her expectation, she repairs to her house at Chartley, and thither the Earl comes to her, but whether he was more lusty than she expected, or what other accident happened, it is unknown: nevertheless she grew jealous of her art, and falls into a great fear, that all their labour was lost, whereupon she writ a Letter to Doctor Forman to this effect:  
Sweet Father,  
although I have found you ready at all times to further me, yet must I still crave your help, wherefore I beseech you to remember, that you keep the doors close, and that you still retain the Lord with me, and his affection towards me; I have no cause but to be confident in you, although the world be against me, yet heaven fails me not, many are the troubles I sustain, the doggedness of my Lord, the crossness of my enemies, and the subversion of my fortunes, unless you ●y your wisdom do deliver me out of the midst of this wilderness, which I entreat for God's sake.  
From Chartley, Your affectionate loving daughter, Francis Essex.  
This Letter coming to the hands of the old Master, procures a new attempt, and now he goes and enchants a Nutmeg and a Letter, and to be given to the Viscount in his drink, the other to be sent unto him as a present; These things being accomplished, he not long after died, leaving behind him some of those Letters, whereby the Countess had intercourse with him in his Pocket, which gave some light into the business, amongst which this same was one.  
Doctor Forman being dead, Mistress Turner wanted one to assist her, whereupon at the Countess her coming up to London, one Gresham was nominated to be entertained into this business, and in process of time was wholly interessed in it. This man was had in suspicion to have had a hand in the Gu●powder Treason, he wrote so near in his Alm●nack, but without question he was a very skilful man in the mathematics, and in his later time in witchcraft, (as now suspected) and therefore the fitter to be employed in those practices, which as they were devilish, so the devil had a hand in them.   

The Countess sends the Viscount this Letter enchanted by Doctor Forman: Places of meetings appointed, their intolerable looseness. Poet's verses upon them. The beginning of the Fall.  
Upon her return she sends gratulations to the Viscount, and with those the Letter sent her by Doctor Forman, he reads it, and the more he reads it, the more is entangled: For no man knows the miseries that are contained in evil Arts, and who can withstand the words of evil tongues; whereupon he returns answer, and new places of meetings are assigned, amongst the rest, one at Hammersmith: In the mean time the Viscount makes dispatch of his business, leaving things half done, half undone, to the intent he might meet her, who had now stayed for hi● coming above two hours, and being met, they solemnly saluted each other; fall into divers discourses, and insinuating phrases, from words to deeds, and from speaking, to acting the sin of venery. The Countess having obtained that she desired, and the Viscount caught in the net of adulation, the more he strives to be loosed, is caught the faster, so that lust having by this means got liberty, being covered with greatness, like a fire long concealed in a pile of rotten wood, burst forth with all looseness and licentiousness; places of more frequent and private meetings being concluded between them, persons fit●ing for their purposes being acquainted with their proceedings; watchwords are given. All things having relation to a certain end, makes them more boldly and safely to accomplish that which both time and memory cannot demonstrate in former History.  
Now these good parts which seemed heretofore to be hopeful in the Viscount, consumes to cinders, and the corruption remains to brand him in the forehead for his ill living; his modesty becomes eclipsed, his behaviour light, his carriage unseemly in his place, nothing so costly, no tire so uncouth, but at all costs and charges he obtains it for the increase of favour; new fashions are produced, that so he might show more beautiful and fair, and that his favour and personage might be made more manifest to the world, and for this purpose yellow bands, dusted hair, curled, crisped, frizzled, slicked skins, open breasts beyond accustomed modesty, with many other inordinare attires were worn on both sides to the show of the world, so that for the increase of dishonest appetites, they were abundantly practised and praised.  
Surfeiting thus upon pleasure, having been before accustomed unto hardness, causeth him to fall into all manner of forgetfulness; letting all things go to wrack, careless in attendance, neglecting State affairs, ignorant of his own worth, and subjecting himself to the lustful appetite of an evil woman, accompring no time so well spent, nor hour deemed so happy, as when dalliance and pleasant discourses past between them; either in words or writings, so that in him may be verified the old saying of the Poet. 

Non facili juvenum multis è millibus unum  
Virtuti pretium, qui putat esse suum,  
Fallit eum vicium specie virtutis & umbra  
Cum sit triste habitum vultuque veste Severum,  
Nec dubio tanquam fruge laudatur avorum.   

Of thousand youths there scarce is one  
That virtue valueth as his prize,  
For vic● deceives him and alone  
The show of virtue blinds their eyes,  
Although their countenance pensive be,  
Their garments and their habits grave,  
Yet all their fruit doubtless we see  
Is lust and glory that they crave.    
These things lays him open to the ill affection of them that hate him, and lays the foundation of his utter subversion, since the eyes of all men are upon such as are eminent; and as black upon white is soonest discerned, so evil conditions and lascivious affections are soonest perceived in such persons.   

The faithfulness of Sir Thomas Ove●bury unto the Viscount, the advice he gave him contemned. Favou●s are more bestowed upon him; ma●e of the Privy counsel.  
THis course of life being somewhat strange to those that were ignorant of these designs, gives new occasion of wonder and admiration, how he should continue still his favour; many things being le●t undone, others done to the half, insomuch that all must lie upon Overbu●y's neck, and this doth he honestly, and to the Viscounts credit, attributing every action to his doing, although of him neglected: Answers for him in his absence, hastens dispatches in his presence, furthers the requests of suitors, and through the neglect and carelessness of the Viscount, grows in greater credit and esteem, so that his carefulness, sufficiency, and diligence, makes him become eminent, and beloved both of the King and counsel.  
Yet nevertheless he lessens his own worth, gives all the dignity to the Viscount, endeavouring how the p●opl● stood affected towards him, finds many complaints and some injuries to be done unto him, who being blinded with pleasure, overslip● or lets them pass with small respect; whereupon he takes occasion at a time convenient, to utter these or the like words unto him: [Sir, howsoever o●her things may pass either with small regard, or be smothered with honour, and greatness; yet such things as lay a man open to obloquy and contempt, can hardly be obscured in a person so public and eminent as your Lordship is, which things are often esteemed to be in a man that outwardly seemeth light and effeminate, or inwardly wanteth the ballast of government to poise eternal actions.  
Of a truth Sir (be it spoken without offence) the Court calls your modesty into question, and fears that these honours that should be hereditary to noble personages, will be obscured with eminent e●ills, and blemished wit● levity and inconstancy.] These with many other discourses h●ving at this time past betwee●e t●em, sound●d something h●rshly in the Viscounts ears, as all good counsel becomes evil, to those that are evil. And in a kind of anger flung from him, though undeserved, yet nevertheless all his countenance and favour was not wholly obscured, but that he might still enjoy that which he expected, which was hope of preferment.  
More favours are bestowed upon the Viscount, being called to be one of the Privy counsel, which honour, howsoever it was great, ●nd more than was expected; yet because he was young, one that to the opinion of the world was of no education, literature, and experience, (besides these inordinate courses) brings him into further contem●t of the world, so that every man would take the freedom of his Language, and spe●ke harsh●y of these proceedings: some con●emning his course of life, others his insufficiency, because of his youth, and most his w●nt of experience, by which means hi● greatness overtops his substance; And as a Ship without ballast is tottered too and again, to the terror of those that are in it in a storm and high water; Even so these honours thus sudd●inly bestowed upon him before his due time, lays him the more open to the evil opinion of the envious, and with some doth sooner hasten his ruin: For which cause, it behooves such as are thus drawn up merely by fortune, either to be possessed with such ●irtues aforehand, that thereby they might maintain themselves in their greatness, or else to expect a sudden overthrow at a time unexpected.   

B. 2. Speeche● of the Lady Elizabeth's Marriage with the Palsgrave: Conditions concluded upon. A. 1. The Prince takes dislike at the Viscount. The Prince's death, rumours upon the same.  
NOw Prince Henry was living, and having some intelligence of this loose king of life which the Viscount led, and being something jealous of him, for because of that he heard, doth utterly dislike him, forbears his company, and whether for that or some other cause, it is unknown, falls flat at o●ds with him, not once giving him any countenance, or vouchsafing him his countenance.  
Not long after, as it might be about the beginning of November, he fell sick, continued so some week or little more, the malady increasing (lying in his head) he dies. A man may say of this Prince as was said of Maecenas, both for wisdom & strength of body, There was not the like to be found among the English: The hope of England, strange was the accident, and many the rumours that ensued upon his death. Some said that a French physician killed him, others that he was poisoned, again others thought that he was bewitched; yet no certainty could be found, but that he died a natural death. This accident filled all the kingdom with lamentations, and caused the Wedding that followed at Candlemas after to be kept in sable. The funeral was performed in great state, and with more grief; much might be said, but I leave it. My purpose being only in brief to set out these matters to memory, that after-ages might see the evil of our times, where the greatest part of many courtier's actions are to find out tricks, how to circumvent their fellow servants, and some, (if it were possible) to dispossess the King of his dignity, as hereafter shall be showed; so many are the discontents that are cherished among them.  
These domestic affairs having thus happened, and the death of the Prince filling the Court with sorrow, and the Court being full of other employments, by reason of the Marriage that was to be had with the Palsgrave of Rhine, and her grace, (who was now marriageable) passed over the rest in silence. The match is concluded, and great expectation and provision for his coming over to perform the ceremonies of matrimony are made, at whose coming, many rumours are spread abroad. First, that the Spaniard took this to the heart, and therefore laid to do him some mischief by the way.  
That there was a Ship of pocket pistols came out of Spain, and that it was intended by the Papists to have made a Massacre. And that Northampton did utterly oppose this match, for he was as great an enemy to the Dutch and Protestants, as ever Cicell was their friend; and that many Priests were arrived, and such like; yet nevertheless it was accomplished with great pomp and state, all or the greatest part of the Nobility being there present, a mask in the great banqueting-house, the Gentlemen of the Middle Temple, and other of Gray's inn: a third besides three days Tylting, and running at the Ring, the King himself in person with the young Prince that now is King, besides many other pastimes, both stately and becoming the dignity of a King.  
At this time there was a Proclamation against Verdingales, but to little purpose, for they rather increased greater, then diminished; For where a thing is once grown into a habit, it is hardly to be restrained.  
There was another Proclamation, upon the former report of the coming of a Ship of pocket pistols out of Spain, that no man should carry a pistol in his pocket, nor any that should be less than a foot long in the barrel. About this time also the Papists were disarmed, and many strange rumours raised, which things because they were uncertain, I omit to relate them, being rather pertinent unto state, then unto profit.   

Ambassadors sent into Russia, Swethia, and other Provinces ●or the renewing o● frien●ship. Of the League in the Low-countries. The rumour of it.  
MA●y outrages having been now of late committed by the archduke upon the States, divers rumours are raised concerning the Leaguer, both strange and almost universal: For there were parties, the Pope, the Emperor, the King of Spain, and a Cardinal to ai●e the archduke ag●inst the S●●tes. The foundation of this combustion was laid upon the s●cking of a Protestant town in Br●b●●t● whereupon Grave Maurice drew out ten thousand into the Field, and s●m●●ew blows happened, and suspected that it would have grown further, and that th●re would have been a general opposition between Protestants and Papist●, but by means of the Pope and the King, it was agreed, and went no further, but left a scare to give a new occasion.  
The war o● Denmark was also brought unto a happy end, and the King r●tained his right there; not long after the issue whereof, ambassadors were sent into Muscovie to renew the League of friendship with the Emperor, who now being brought low by conti●u●ll wars, was glad to entertain such a motion. Traffic is confirmed there with that Nation, and ●rom thence the same ambassadors went to Swethi●, to conclude a Le●gue of friendship, the reason whereof was thought to be for the ancient amity that had bee●e had heretofore betwee●e the King of that Nation; from thence they went to the Duke of Cleeve, and so to the Emperor with salutations.   

The suit of the clothworkers; my Lord o●Rochester stands for them; The complaint of the Countess, she sues ●or a Divorce.  
NOw this year the clothworkers (being covetous of larger employments) petition the King and counsel, that there might go no more white cloth out of this kingdom, but that they might be all dressed and died here before th●y went over, and the reasons o● their petition were three: 

First, that the Hollander making use of dressing and dying our cloth almost doubled the value they bought it ●or, whereby they were enriched, and we were impoverished.  
The second reason, that whereas there was a multitude of poor in this kingdom that wanted employment, if they might have the dying and the dressing of those clothes, it would find them work whereby they might be relieved, and there was no reason why any other should make benefit of that which we might make good of ourselves.  
Lastly, whereas the Trade of dressing of cloth began to decay; if now they might but have this, in process of time it might be restored, and they might have as good skill to dress cloth, as the Dutchmen. My Lord of Rochester, my Lord of Northampton, my Lord Tre●surer that now is, were great agents in this business, and were thought to have been promised great sums of money to accomplish it.    
Now the Countess begin● new complaints, and finds her Art to continue firm, and th●t indeed there was such frigidity quoad hanc accomplishe●: That her hu●b●nd, the good Earl of Essex, could not execute the office of a hu●band, she up and tells her friends that she is still a maid, and that she had good cause to complain, since that she having continued so long his wife, she in that space had never the fruition of that pleasure that ought to be between man and wife, for which cause she protested that she would never keep him company any longer, and desired a Divorcement, because of his insufficiency.  
This seemed strange unto the world, who took notice of the Earl to be of an able body, and likely to have many children, and to undertake any exploit for the good of the commonwealth, indeed valuing this to be but an idle and vain rumour that was spread (as often happened) to see how such a thing would be liked in the world, and therefore let it pass with little notice.  
In the mean time there is a motion between Rochester and her for a marriage, and since it was so, that the world had taken notice of their business, now to make some satisfaction, they would consummate a wedding between them: This motion was well liked of on both parties, but the obstacle remained, her husband was alive, and the Law would not permit her to have two husbands; whereupon she grows the more eager of a divorce, that so she might have a new hu●band, (for women of her disposition delight in change) and therefore renews her complaint, advice is taken in the business whether such a thing may be had, there being no cause public of adultery or dislike of the husband: again, it was a question whether the wife might sue a divorce or not, for that the Bill of divorcement was given to the husband, and not to the wife; many such like objections being disputed to and again, at last it is concluded.  
That in case the Earl was so unable, as she reported, to execute the office of an husband, and that upon the search of twelve matrons, she appeared still to be a maid: It was lawful that there might be a divorce, and the reason was twofold, one that there might be a frigidity quoad hanc, another that marriage was appointed for procreation sake, for which cause it was thought lawful to sue a divorce.  
Upon this they proceeded to the search, twelve Matrons were empanelled, the day appointed, the search made, and the verdict returned, that she was a true maid: who should bring this to the ears of the King, but my Lord of Northampton, and so to the world, who grows jealous of fraud, doubting either corruption or deceit, (for it was vulgarly reported) that she had a child long before in my Lord's absence; whereupon, some say this, some say that, and most that the Countess was not searched; but that one of Sir Thomas Monson's daughters was brought in to be searched in her place, and so both Jury and Judges deceived. But how true this is, is not credible; yet nevertheless they grant a bill of divorce, and now a separation being had between them, the Earl in a great discontent leaves the Court, and repaired to his house in Warwickshire, and there lives a private life.   

The motion of Marriage goes forward. Overbury's opinion concerning it; He dissuades Rochester from it: The breach between them; the principal cause of it.  
NOw might there be a lawful discourse of marriage, since there was a lawful divorce, had it nevertheless been kept private, and only some particular friends made privy on Rochester's side, Overbury, whose advice he requires amongst others in this business, to what end it is unknown. Nevertheless, Overbury was utterly against it, and being in serious discourse with him concerning this subject, in the passage gallery at Whitehall, entered into these or the like words, as was reported.  
First, how much he stood obliged to him for his countenance and favour, and therefore would speak nothing but what was truth. Then how du●iful and ready he was to perform all his commands, from whence he might easily perceive, that what he spoke was out of affection. And lastly, that he had often endeavoured to avert his mind from these things, that both time and the envy of men might turn his prejudice, taxing him that he had made all this to become hurtful unto him, and converting the meaning of good intentions towards him, to his disparagement and loss; notwithstanding the Viscount still pressed him on to pass his opinion, protesting great kindness, and to do nothing without his opinion; whereupon he lets him understand, that perceiving the common reports of the multitude, and weighing them with the greatness of his person, that he found it to be no less hurtful to his preferment, then helpful to subvert and overthrow him. For who would (being possessed of so gre●t possibility as he was, so great honours and large reve●nues, and d●ily in expectation of others) cast all away upon a wom●n, th●t is noted both for her in●ury and immodesty, and pull upon him the hatred ●nd contempt of great person●ges for so small a mat●er; then he willed him to consider with himself the condition of the person wher●of he sp●ke, the m●nner of her c●rriage from her yo●th, her present conversation, the m●ny ●nvies, dishonours and dislikes that were attendant upon her; and besides, which is now the commo● report of the vulg●r (and he should find them to be so many evils ●o attend her sub●ersion and overthrow.  
It is not the nature of a wise man to make her his wife, whom he hath made his whore. Lastly, willed him to expect no better requital at her hands, than which she had showed to her former hu●b●nd, and withal to weigh the present condition that he was in, and to compare it with the future; now he h●d, as it were, but an inclination unto such a thing, neith●r were those things made evident, that after ages would lay open, nevertheless that he ●as taxed with incivility, levity, and indeed effeminateness, that by the opinion of the wise, he was adjudged altogether unworthy of that honour that was bestowed upon him. But when these surmises should come by this his marri●ge to be m●de evident, what evils before were but suspected, should then be enlarged, and laid to his charge: Honour is not attended with voluptuousness, nor are the ruins of a rotten branch to be cherished upon a new planted tree; but if that he meant to be made famous, and to continue that with him, that now he freely enjoyed; his opinion was, that he should utt●rly leave and forsake her company, and to hold her, was both hurtful and hateful.  
These speeches drew on others, and the Viscount being a little nettled in his affection, grows somewhat harsh. And Sir Thomas having been heretofore excepted at with these kind of contentions, grows so much the more careless, answers word for word, so that from fa●●● and friendly speeches, they grew to words of anger, and either to cross other. In conclusion, Overbury requires his portion due unto him, and so wills Rochester to leave him to his own fortunes, for that he could not endure these inordinate jangles which he had accustomed towards him of late, and that if there had been any thing said, that was either offensive to him, or to the disparagement of the Countess, it was by his own procurement, and by reason of the good will and affection that he bore to him: with these and many such words they parted.   

Rochester and the Countess meet; They conclude the death of Overbury; That Northampton had a hand in it; causes why.  
THe Countess having ere this borne a deadly hate towards Overbury, because he had oftentimes before dissuaded the Viscount to abstain from her company; yet now having disclosed unto her this speech, she becomes much more revengeful, especially because he had taxed her with the name of a Whore; for truth is hateful to the evil, and what before she concealed, now breaks forth with fury. For concealing anger is much worse than open violence, persuading Rochester that it was not possible that ever she should endure these injuries, or hope for any prosperity as long he lived; he being the only man that withstood his purposes, with many other persuasions, that he only of all men began to grow eminent, and who was the man so likely to step up after him as Overbury: Insomuch as these persuasions, together with his own conceived evil, procures the Viscount to give a liking to her determination, and to put his hand into the fire, where he needed not, making himself accessary to that which he had no occasion to put in practice at all.  
There were some that charged Northampton to have had a hand in these businesses, and to have uttered these and the like words, That he wondered how the Viscount could be so much affected to this man Overbury, that without him he could do nothing, (as it were) making him his right hand, seeing he being newly grown into the King's favour, and wholly depending upon his greatness, must expect to come to ruin, when that man rose to preferment: Also he condemned Overbu●y for his boldness and peremptory sauciness, that checked and corrected the Viscount for the love that past betwixt the Viscount and him, and opposed many of his designs and purposes; whereupon he concluded, that unless he did ei●her curb his greatness, or abate his pride, he in time would be equ●ll with him both in po●er and greatness: whether this proceeded out of fear● of himself, or envy towards Overbury, or to collogue with his niece and Roches●er, or to prevent the plagues of Sir Tho: who altogether distasted these niggling courses: It cannot be conceived but these are the last words that he spoke of this subject. That for his own part he knew himself clear in all offences against the State, and their family was so eminent in the commonwealth, that he could not hurt him. But for Rochester, being made privy to all his designs, growing peremptory, and no whit tractable to his disposition; besides likely to come to eminency and honour in the commonwealth, he finds it both necess●ry and fitting ●or his safety, that he should be a means to dispatch him: whereupon the Viscount being led by the nose, as he thought for the best, gives consent, and endeavours to put in practice what they have determined; Now of all hands they cast about how this might be effected and pass unregarded, so that they might sustain no loss or disparagement by the attempt.   

Sir William Wade removed from the lieutenancy of the Tower, Sir Jarvice Yeluis preferred.  
For this purpose alone it was thought that a quarrel was picked by Sir William Wade, who was now Lieutenant of the Tower, and had continued a great while, but there were other causes objected. And first he was thought too severe against the Lady Arabella, and gave some other Prisoners too much liberty: Another was, that ●e being now grown rich, began to grow careless and neglected his office; But the very truth of the business was thought to be this, Sir Jervace Yeluis being a Lincolnshire gentleman, having been brought up a public life from his youth, trained in the study of the public laws at Lincoln's inn, and ambitious of preferment, offered a sum of money for that honour and place; For howsoever Sir William Wade might be one way taxed for his too much desire of wealth, which thing might be tolerable in him, being pressed with a great charge; yet he was wise, honest, and discreet in his place, and discharged it with much more sufficiency than he that succeeded him: but according to the sa●ing of the Poet. 

Quisquis ha●et nummos secura navigat aura,  
Fortunaque suo temporet arbitrio,   

These men that store of money have  
With prosperous wind shall sail,  
And fortune plays unto their wish,  
To speed they cannot fail.    
By this means he is got into the lieutenancy, and for this cause Sir William Wade is put out. Things ordered after this sort never proceed without envy, unless the persons that enjoy such places be very considerate, it is likely they will have a sudden fall; but what care men of power for such things? he being established in his office must recollect his money paid by using some kind of extortion, and to bear out this, be observant to such as preferred him, and so by their countenance, he might use the greater liberty: For this cause he made the Earl of Northampton and Rochester the whole end of his actions, fearing more to displeas● them then the King; A fit man for their purpose.   

The Countess repairs to Mistress Turner to inquire a man out for her; makes complaint of Overbury's insolency, discloses her determin●tions; Weston is nominated.  
IN the mean time the Countess thought it not enough to hear, nor to fret and fume, nor persuade and entreat my Lord to undertake this dangerous enterprise; but to Mistress Turner she must go, and there renew her complaints with tears, (hardly found in a woman of her disposition) protesting she was never so defamed, neither did she ever think, that any man durst to be so saucy, as to call her whore and base woman, and that to Rochester her only hopes, and with an impudent face; But Overbury that Negro, that scum of men, that devil incarnate, he might do any thing, and pass either unregarded or unpunished: This moves pity in this pitiful woman Mistress Turner, who frets as fast to see her fret, so that there is storming between them, as is incredible. At length, as we see two clouds after long strife in the air, which shall have the priority in place, join in one; so these two women, after they had fulfilled their frantic humour join in this, to be the death of him; that must be the end, (there is no malice to the malice of a woman) no submission, no entreaty, no persuasion could prevail, but he must die, Mistress Turner soothes her with (I that she ●ould) and it is pity he should live to defame so honourable a Lady, so well descended, to the utter disparagement of her house, and that rather than he should pass with life, she would be his deathsman herself; words of course in such cases, where people are carried away with heady malice, not with reason: Yet for all this, coming to their right senses, they begin to weigh the matter, and that it was no small thing to kill a man, both in respect of conscience and law. The●efore they cast about which should be the best way to do it; at las● they conclude, that to poison him was the only way, and that with le●●t suspect. But then the party that should do it was to seek; for he must be no ordinary man, some apothecary or physician that might temper the poison rightly to take effect, according to t●eir mind, and of long study: one Weston was named, that had sometime been servant to Doctor Turner, and thereby learned such experience, that none was so fitting to accomplish this exploit to him. This man now in the country must be sent for, Mistress Turner must work upon him to bring him to this exploit; for things of this nature must be carried with wisdom and discretion, for who will hazard his life for (had I wist.) Two hundred pounds is proffered him, and he of all men undertakes it.   

Overbury's great favour. The motion of the council to send him ambassador to the archduke. He contemplates of it. Is persuaded by my Lord Viscount to refuse it.  
THese things notwithstanding Overbury still grows into favour, and the council still finding his diligence and sufficiency in his place, nominates him as a man fit to be sent ambassador into the Low-countries to the archduke, making that a means to draw him up to great preferments. This comes to Overbury's ear, who knowing my Lord of Northampton to be his utter enemy, & growing jealous of Rochester, begins to contemplate what the meaning of this might be; thus between hope and fear, he stands at a maze: To refuse would be to his great disgrace; to undertake it would be to the loss of his preferment: standing in these doubts, the Viscount after thus many jangles comes to him and salutes him, and after many discourses, falls into speech of the intention of the council concerning this Embassage, not so much to assist and encourage him to it, as to see how he stood affected; whereupon, finding him hammering upon his determinations, not being certainly determined to any thing, joins with him, and utterly dissuades him from undertaking it: For (quoth he) your preferments and your expectations lies not among foreign nations; you are now in cre●it at home, and have already made trial of the dangers of travail, why then should you hazard all upon uncertainties, being in possession (as a man might say) of all that you may expect by by this means already? These speeches, what with the trust he put in the Viscount, what with the doubtfulness of his mind, doth in a manner confirm his opinion rather to leave it, then to take it. But nevertheless gives to understand, that it was no small thing to oppose the determination of the council, and to contradict the King's employment; for in either of these he must expect the displeasure of both, and be in danger to receive condign punishment.  
But Rochester, to get these doubts out of his mind, with great protestation and long discourses, let him understand he had so much experience of his worth, and found him so faithful and diligent in employments, that he could so well miss his right hand as miss him, an● that in case any such danger should happen to him; yet nevertheless, if either his word, his letter, credit, or favour, could either mitigate, release, or relieve him, it should not be wanting to do him ease and pleasure.  
Being led on with these hopes, he is in a manner drawn utterly to deny that which was intended for his profit, and to give him a fit opportunity to excuse their malice towards him, as after happened according to the saying of the Poet. 

Ne quic quam crede, haud credere quic quam  
— nam f●onte polito  
Astutum rappido torrent sub pectore vulpem.   

Believe not thou scarce any man;  
For oft a Phrygian face,  
Is smoothly covered with a smile,  
But within seeks thy disgrace.    
The Viscount seeing him at this time in so fitting a vain to be wrought upon, and so easily to be persuaded from his purpose, showed him much more favour than heretofore he had done, the better to confirm credence in him towards his persuasions, & to encourage him in his determinations, & by this means he is utterl● deceived, and grows confident to ●orsake it; in this mind the Viscount leaves him, and betakes himself to his purpose.   

The Countess, Earl, and Viscount meet. They determine of the matter. The King is incensed against Overbury.  
SIr Jervace being now grown old in his office, and being acquainted with it; amongst other things is sounded whether he stands faithful to his Pat●ons, Northampton and Roches●er, whereby it is found, that he would be pliant to any thing they would desire; but yet not made acquainted with this determination, nevertheless it feeds them with hope to execute their purposes with better prosperity: For the Lieutenant being their friend, and Weston (a man that had gotten the art of poisoning) entertained for the purpose, and with a resolute mind ready to effect it, made them neither suspect nor doubt any thing, only how they might get him to the Tower. For this purpose it is thought fit, that Roches●er having the King's ear, should be a means to possess the King with some misdemeanours that he had committed, that thereby the King being incensed against him, and the refusal of the Embassage, making evident the truth of these complaints, that they need not doubt of any such matter; whereupon my Lord of Rochester amongst other things (as at time convenient) lets the King understand how insolent Overbury was grown, that he not only contemned him, but His Majesty also, estimating this employment to be sent ambassador either too light a preferment for his deserts, or else intended to procure him further evil, and that he utterly disliked it, and determined to refuse it.  
The King being possessed of these things, and by him, (who to the judgement of the world was his greatest friend) took displeasure at it, so that by his countenance, one might have perceived his anger; For the frowning of a King is like the roaring of a lion, terrible to the spectators and hearers, so that now they doubted not of their expectations to get him into the Tower, where being a Prisoner in the King's disgrace, under the protection of one who more esteemed their favour then the King's displeasure, sequestered from his friends, no intercourse suffered to come unto him, but what came from the Countess, Northampton, Rochester and Weston, a fit agent to execute all manner of evils; why, to the judgement of the world, it is impossible that ever this evil should come to light. And thus being ranked up in their own conceits, they run headlong to their own destruction: for when there were but two persons privy to the act of murder, as in Cain and Abel, it could not pass unpunished, but that Cain must be marked with a perpetual mark of ignomy; how much less shall this go undiscovered, when there are so many privy to it? 
Thus may we see that one sin another doth provoke,  
And that murder is as near to lust as flame to smoke.    

Sir Thomas refuses the Embassage; incurs the King's displeasure; He is sent to the Tower. Westom is preferred to him. Gresham dies. Fra●cklin entertained into the business. A new speech of Marriage between the Countess and Rochester.  
SIr Thomas Overbury and Rochester, having (for some private occasion fallen into a new breach at Newmarket, returns very pensively to London; and now the time being come that he should give an answer, what he would do concerning this Embassage, he answered, That he acknowledged himself much bound unto His Majesty for many favours that he had bestowed upon him, as to prefer him to so great honour; but yet nevertheless knowing himself of such a place (unexperienced) how to execute it, and besides tied to many domestic businesses, desired to be excused; This seeming something strange and harsh, that he should neglect his own good, and by this means incur the displeasure of the King, and lose his expectations, makes some of his friends to wonder, others to stand in a maze.  
But in the conclusion, as he had justly deserved, by reason of his contempt, he is committed to the Tower, but not to be kept as a close Prisoner; but after, my Lord of Northampton and Rochester being both of the privy council, and in great favour at Court, sends unto the Lieutenant that he should keep him close Prisoner, and afterwards received by word of mouth from Sir Thomas Monson, that he should not suffer any Letters, tokens or other things to be delivered unto him.  
Their expectation in this thing being accomplished, miss Turner by the instigation of the Countess, becomes a great suitor to Sir Thomas Monson, to have his Letter to prefer Weston unto Sir Thomas to wait on him in the Tower, who hearing the name of the Countess; and withal, understanding the great affection that was between her and Rochester, condescended, wrote, and sent him with the Letter to Sir Jervace in the Tower; He showed it to Sir Thomas, willing to deserve his petitions chiefest favour, with the more readiness entertained him: As when a man ignorantly treads upon a Serpent, is stung for his labour; So Sir Thomas harbours in his own breast the author of his own destruction.  
Now Gresham growing into years, having spent much time, and many foul prayers to accomplish these things; at this time gathers all his babbles, viz. pictures in lead, in wax, in plates of gold, of naked men and women, with crosses, crucifixes, and other implements, wrapping them all up together in a scarf, crossed every letter in the sacred word, Trinity crossed A: W: O: crossed: these being very holily delivered into the hands of one Weston to be hid in the earth, that no man might find them, and so in Thames street having finished his evil times, he died, leaving behind him a man and a maid, the one hanged for a Witch, the other for a thief.  
After his death with much writing many entreaties and rewards, one Franklin was entertained into these actions, a man of a reasonable stature, crook shouldered, of a swarthy complexion, and thought to be no less a Witch then the two former, Gresham and Forman; This man was more employed to make poisons fit to be administered by Weston then otherwise; for he was excellent in that art, to mitigate or increase their strength, so that sometimes a poison should be a month ere it should work: Verily evil actions shall never want evil actors; and in all ages, physicians, Apothecaries, Druggists, ●ashired Serving-men that have fallen into want, have still been the agents in such enterprises. Tiberius his physician, Spado an apothecary, and Ligdo, Drusius Servant, are made agents to be his poisoners. Nero's bondman must kill him, Piso's captain under Germanicus must poison him; and by the help of a woman, poisoner of cow, a town in Gretia, who was so skilful, that she had poison in his poison, in his hair to kill himself; a Centurian to Maximus must poison him, Alexander's physician Antipater, and Aristotle must be the author of his own death. And here Franklin a kind of physician, Weston a Servant to Sir Thomas, and Sir Jervace Yeluis, who is, as hereafter you shall hear, Privado to the Earl and Viscount, and the Countess and Mistress Turner are made instruments to kill and dispatch Sir Thomas Overbury: so that it hath been almost in all ages, and in all such outrages sound, that either such persons or women have been actors in such attempts.  
Over●ury being thus confined into the Tower, and accounted amongst them as a friar, a dead person in the Law, in whose breast many secrets were contained, being still fed on with hope of preferment and liberty, lest he should disclose what he knew. They at their will and pleasure carouse full healths of sin and abomination, and freely discourse of a marriage to be consummated between the Countess and Rochester, that so being tied in this bond of matrimony, and joined in affinity with my Lord of Northampton, more trust might be had in him, and better use might be made of his Honour and greatness.  
Now there is none to support him, no man to dissuade him, his looseness with the Countess gauls his conscience, and that it might be the more offensive to him, and make him the willinger to consent unto this motion, he is still pressed with it, and that it is both unfit and unseemly, whereas on the otherside, if they marry, it will be both lawful, honourable, and commendable, and the ears of the vulgar will be then stopped, and none dares be so bold as to touch it; This carries show of truth, so that what with his former affection, what with his present offence that he conceives at these courses, concludes the marriage: Times are appointed to confer, how impediments might be avoided, and what should be fitting to be doom in this behalf.   

How the Lieutenant came acquainted with the business; Encouraged to persist by Northampton. Rewards promised him. Be examined Sir Thomas to find out his affection: Most think of Religion: Some think towards the Countess.  
IT is now high time to enter into this action, and the Countess means to be the first, and for this purpose, she went and got a glass of blue water some two inches long, this being wrapped in a paper, she delivers to Weston's son with instructions, that he should go to the Tower and deliver it to his father; he doth so, who having his matter aforehand put into his head, at supper time takes the same in one hand, and part of Sir Thomas Overbury's supper in the other hand, and who should he meet withal, but Sir Jarvace Yeluis the Lieutenant? So he demanded of him with a kind of caution, whether he should give it him now, the lieutenant stopped, and asked him what? to which Weston answered, Sir, you know what is to be done: This made him stand in a maze, and doubt the worst, whereupon he calls Weston into examination, and makes him confess all his intention, from what grounds, and of whom he received it, and partly the cause of it; he now being made a slave unto greatness, and having laid out much money to purchase his place, for fear to lose the one, and to offend the other, lets Weston go with this caution to omit it for that time, whereas a wise man, rather than he would have run himself headlong into perdition, would have discovered, and have made them a means, to have manifested his faithfulness in his office.  
But what shall we say to a man lost? The next day he is sent for to the Lord of Northampton: These after many long and large discourses, at length the Earl discloses to him his intention concerning Overbury, and with those things mingles many of his insolences: First of his obstinacy against the Viscount, his insolency against the Countess, his opposition almost against all good men, and that for the causes of such a thing happened, there being none to look after him, it would pass unregarded, or unrespected, but withal gives him many cautions, how he should manage himself in the business, letting him understand what manner of man he was; a scholar, and one that had an excellent tongue, and wit; a Traveller, experienced in the course of the world, and besides that favoured the contrary Faction, and as great a politician as any was this day in England; therefore in regard he ought to be the more wary, both who came to him, and who went from him, and above all, that no Letters pass to and fro: These and many other such like speeches having past between them, (for the Earl was two hours, by his own confes●ion, prompted him with cautions and considerations, that he might be the readier to act his part in this adventure he was to deal in.) Lastly, he concludes, that above all he should insinuate with him, to see how he stood affected to these proceedings, and what words he uttered from a heart full of thirst with grief and sorrow, must either speak or burst, and his service and diligence herein shall be rewarded with a thousand pounds.  
Whether it was the greediness of the reward, or the foolish desire he had to give content to the Earl and Viscount, they being his only Favourers, or some other hope still unknown, but he by this means is brought to his own destruction, and so gives consent to conceal that which was intended. At his coming back, he repairs to Sir Thomas Overbury, under pretence to comfort him in his sorrow, and adviseth him to be more lightsome, and not to consume himself with grief; by this means entering into further discourse, secretly insinuates into his intentions; Sir Thomas having a good opinion of him, and supposing all was done out of faith and honesty towards him, having by this means learned what he could of him, writes unto the Lord of Northampton a Letter to this effect:  
MY especial good Lord, having undertook my Prisoner, according to your instructions, after long silence, as standing between hope and fear, he takes his Bible, and after he had read upon it, and by it protested his innocency; after upon further conference concerning the Countess, he said that he had justified her already, and that he could do no more than what he had done. But for himself, alas (quoth he) what will they do with me? I answered, so reason you, as you shall make no question hereafter of your pureness, and I left him in some sense to work upon him. As I was going, he concluded, that in the generality, she was so worthy, that she might be a wife in particular ●or my Lord of Rochester, he would not say it, lest my Lord should condemn him, for weighing his worth.  
At my next coming to him, I found him not in sense, but fury, He let fly at you, but was respective to my Lord of Rochester, whose part he taketh altogether. I see the event, I desire it may be safely covered; what my service may do you in this, or any thing else, I will be faithful to your Lordship, and so I rest,  
Jervace Yeluis.  
These and many other things being inserted into this Letter was sent unto the Earl, which he read, and in reading laughs and smiles at the simplicity of the one, and ignorance of the other, nevertheless, in outward appearance he applauds all the actions of Sir Jervace, but especially to my Lord of Rochester, holding him both a discreet and wise man, and that his secrecy, and honest dealing in this employment, deserves everlasting praises with after ages.   

More poisons are sent from the Countess. Sir Thomas Monson is suspected to have a hand in the business. Overbury grows sickly; jealous of his diet; No access is suffered to him.  
WEston having received 24l. of his allowance, and yet nevertheless nothing accomplished according to the Countess her expectation, is checked by Mistress Turner for delaying it; whereupon he gets into his hands certain poisons, viz. Rosacre, white arsenic, Mercury sublimate, cantharides, red Mercury, with three or four more several poisons, tempering them with his broth and his mea●, according as he saw them affected, increasing and diminishing their strength as he was instructed by his ancient friend Master Franklin, besides these, Tarts and Jellies are sent by the Viscount and Countess to Sir Thomas Monson, as from thence by the hands of one Simon, master servant unto Sir Tho: to be delivered to Weston, and so to Overbury, every of which Tarts and Jellies were poisoned with a several poison.  
These courses caused Sir Thomas Monson to be suspected of this act, and to have a hand in it: First, in respect he preferred Weston to his service: Secondly, poisoned Tarts and Jellies went out of his house: And lastly, for that he did not discover these things, his men only having access to the Tower, and that to speak with Weston. Now his salt, his meat, his drink, and whatsoever he eats is mingled with poison, and for the increase of his torment, is increased or diminished, as the saw Sir Thomas Overbury affected.  
By this means he begins to grow extreme sickly, having been hereto●ore accustomed to very good health; insomuch that he can s●arce stand or go, what with the pain of his body, and the heat: yet nevertheless being a strong man, he stood it out a long time, till at length he begun to grow jealous of his man Weston, for his malady increased or diminished, as he affected, but yet some physic he desired, and at his special instance and request, and not without some gratitude as was thought, one Paul de la Bell an apothecary, by the advice of Doctor Marvin, brought a Bath to cool his body, with advice to be sparing of his diet, for that he suspected that his meat was not wholesome: Surely this did him much good, and preserved his life longer than they expected, insomuch that they misdoubt some fallacy or fraud; and therefore send new Letters to the Lieutenant to have a special care that none may be suffered to see him or speak with him: for evil men are full of needless fears, and now there is such special watch had over him, that none of his men might be permitted so much liberty as to speak with him out at a Window; and the reason being asked, Answer was made, that the Lieutenant had commandment from the council that it should be so.  
Thus the good gentleman passed away his tedious and sorrowful days with many discontents, being filled with pains and grief, without friends and comforters, ready to be vexed and tormented upon every occasion, and consuming and languishing away without any common society that was allowed to the meanest Prisoner in the house; In this man may we see the misery of such as fall into the hands of Popish Catholics, for by Northampton's means was this strictness showed towards him; here will we leave him languishing in sorrow, and lamenting his misfortune.   

The Marriage between the Viscount and the Countess published; questioned whether it might be lawful. A nullity obtained to make it lawful. My Lord of Essex repays the Portion. The Viscount made Earl of Somerset.  
TIme can no longer conceal these secret meetings, but they must at length come to light: The Marriage between the Viscount and the Countess is published, this is strange to the world, and so much the more strange, by how much three such great and eminent persons, as the Earl of Essex, the Countess, and the Viscount were interessed in it: And now, according to the common course, every one speaks as he stands affected; some boldly, some sparingly, some call her a loose woman, and pities the good Earl of Essex, and say that he had sustained more wrong than ever any English Peer had done.  
First, to suffer disgrace by the Prince, now by his wife, others blame her with words harsh and unseemly, a third sort Rochester; and that it is pity, but that she should prove as bad a wife to him, as ever she was to the Earl of Essex: then if Overbury had been at liberty this had never happened. Others that were more stayed and judicious in their opinion, foresaw the ruin and downfall of Rochester by this means, but none durst speak of it. For who will put his finger into the fire, unless he be compelled; nevertheless to stop the mouths of the vulgar, this Marriage is called into question, whether it may be lawful or not, because her Husband was then living: For this cause the Bishops of this Land were divided. By the opinion of some she might, by the opinion of others she might not; my Lord of Canterbury, London, and many others were ut●erly against it; But Winchester and Ely stood stiffly it might, provided a nullity might be had: for by that means the former Marriage should be utterly determined.  
A Nullity was obtained, and upon the grant of that, it was ordered that my Lord of Essex should repay her Portion that he received with her at his marriage, that so to the show of the world it might be said, there had been no marriage between them. This afterwards was called into question, and thought a mere trick of Northampton to discharge some of the greatest of the clergy, and to discountenance our Religion, it left a foul scar, and gave a foul occasion to the Adversary to speak broadly where they had liberty, and of some even in our kingdom.  
This Order being sent to my Lord of Essex, he forthwith prep●res for the repayment of five thousand pound, for so much he had received with her; and for this purpose he sold and fell divers woods at Adderston, and near thereabouts: His Grandmother the Countess of Leicester helped him much, or else he should have been constrained to sell much land to have paid it; verily a hard course, having sustained so many injuries.  
The King nevertheless continues his favour towards Rochester, and that he might be as eminent as the best, he is installed Earl of Somerset. Thus favours are heaped upon him, though he little deserved them. And the Countess what she desireth, is still to be a Countess, but called after another name, that is, Countess of Summersault; many are the chances that happen in the world, some good, some bad, and those things we least suspect, do soonest happen to divert us.  
At this time my Lord of Somerset little thought to have been laid in the Tower, and made heir of Overbury's bedchamber, but by this we may see, that all things are in the hands of God.   

The Marriage comes to Overbury's ears. He prophesieth his own death. He falleth into a relapse. He writes to the Earl to remember his promise. Answer is sent him with white Mercury, instead of a medicinable Powder. His death. The state of his body after his death. The Rumour th●t is spread of him. The author's Lamentation.  
NOw although Sir Thomas Overbury was kept private, and that no man might have access to him; yet the news of this Marriage comes to his ears, and presently upon hearing of it he tells the messenger, that he had almost as good have said to morrow he should die, for he was sure now not to live long; and thereupon falls into great lamentations, as well in regard of the Earl of Somerset, that he had so cast away his Fortunes, as of himself, for that now he more suspected his life, than ever heretofore. Whereupon he falls into a Relapse, and his malady increased every day more and more upon him, whether weakened with grief, or for want of liberty, or through abstinency; it is not unknown that the poison had more power over him, than ever heretofore, in so much that he could scarce contain himself by reason of his extreme languishing away, as a man in a consumption: But with much more extremity; so that now being in this extremity, he thinks it high time to put Somerset in mind of his promise. And for this purpose he writes a Letter to this effect.  
RIght Noble and worthy Sir,  
the ●ormer accustomed favours, and absolute promise concerning my present delivery, hath caused me at this time by these lines to solicit your Lordship, and to put you in remembrance if the same, not doubting that your Honour is at all forgetful of me, but only (by reason of my imprisonment) being possessed of a dangerous disease, would for my body's safety partake of the felicity of the open air; In which case, if your Lordship please to commiserate my present necessities, and procure me my speedy delivery, I shall not only stand so much the more obliged, but also acknowledge you the defender and preserver of my life.  
These lines (being subscribed) were sent to Somerset, and delivered into his own hands, the messenger returns answer, that presently he could not accomplish what he required, but willed him not to doubt, for shortly he should hear of his deliverance. Thus being fed with hopes, he ●akes new comfort to him, in the meantime Weston repairs to Mistress Turner for more of his pay, being in want, answer was made, that as soon as he had ended his employment, he should not fail to receive it, but before than he must not expect any thing, whereupon he returns, and enters into new designs, for in all this time, that is, from the one and twentieth of April, until the beginning of September following, in the year 1613. Sir Thomas had held out: while he was thus pusling himself to bring this to perfection, Somerset sent him a Letter to this effect.  
THat as yet the Court was busy about important business, and the King's ear was not at leisure to entertain any motion, but as soon as he could find opportunity he would not fail to speak in his behalf. In the mean time to ease the pain of his malady, he had sent him a sovereign Powder, either to be eaten, or drunk, which Powder was rank poison. This feeds him still with hope, but brings him small comfort.  
Now Weston had found out an unknown Apothecary, and with him concludes for twenty pounds to administer a Glister, wherein should be put Mercury sublimate, the youth was to come to die it, Weston prepares it, persuades Sir Thomas that it will be much for his health; whereupon about the fourteenth day of September, he brings the said Apothecary to execute his office, assists him therein, and by the infusion thereof, he falls into a languishing disease with a pain in his guts, the next day ofter with extremity of pain he gave up the ghost.  
After his death, Weston receives the rest of his pay, and dispatches the unknown apothecary into France; After, it was given out, that Sir Thomas lived a base loose life in the Tower, and not according to that strictness as became a Prisoner, but being suffered to have too much liberty, he run into excess of lasciviousness, so that thereby he got the Pox, and thereof died. This went for currant amongst some; amongst others that were ignorant some little respect had to it. But to others that sought narrower into the matter, they found it far otherwise; for De la Bell the apothecary (before spoken of) having relation to him a little before his death, repor●ed he was changed in his complexion, his body consumed away, and full of yellow blisters, (Ugly to look upon,) and it appeared by a Letter my Lord of Northampton wrote unto Rocheste●, to pick a thank; That there was found in his arm ablister, and upon his belly twelve kirnels raised, not like to break, each as broad as three pence, and as big as a small button, one issue upon his back, whereupon was a plaster from his shoulders downward, of a dark tawny colour, strange and ugly to behold; he stunk so intolerably, as was not to be borne withal, glad to be thrown into a loose sheer into his coffin, buried without knowledge or privity of his friends upon the Tower hill; at lasts he conclude●, that God is gracious in cutting off ill instruments befor● their time.  
Some of the factious crew had a purpose, if he had got out, to have made some use of him, from whence may be gathered, how that Northampton held Protestans factious, and suspected Sir Thomas to have further knowledge of his secrets, than he would have had him, which was the cause, as was thought, besides the former evils that hastened his end, and caused him to be taxed with so great infamy, as to die of the Pox. This passeth currant, and the mischief lies concealed, who dare to speak of it, two such great men having their hands in it?  
Thus may we see that good and bad men come to miserable ends, and oftentimes those that are virtuous do soonest suffer disgrace and contempt. This man before he came to Court, was brought up in all Gentlemanlike qualities: in his youth at Cambridge, after in the Middle Temple, there instructed in those qualities became a gentleman, by the entreaty of my Lord Treasurer Sir Robert Cecil, preferred to Court, found favour extraordinary, yet hindered of his expectation by some of his enemies, and to shift off discontents, forced to travel, and therein spent not his time, as most do to loss; but furnished himself with things fitting a Statesman, by experience in foreign governments, knowledge of the language, passages of employment, external courtship, and good behaviour, things not common to every man: notwithstanding such are the imperfections of our times, he is brought into ignomy and contempt, and all those good qualities obscured, by the disgraceful reproaches of a dissolute woman: What shall we then say, since that both vice and virtue do both end in misery? he is most happy that liveth most private, for according to the saying of the Poet, 

Vitam, animas, operam, sumptus, impendimus aula,  
Praemia, pro meritis, quae retributa putas?  
Aula dedit nobis rescripta votata papiro,  
Et sine mente sonos, & sine corde manus.  
Paucos beavit, Aula plnres perdidit,  
Sed & hoc quoque ipsos, quos beavit pendebit.   

Our lusts, our souls, our wealth we spend  
In Court to purchase praise,  
But what reward is in the end  
For our deserts repay?  
Their vows and protestations deep,  
Not pressed in paper but in mind;  
Their sounds of words to lulls asleep,  
From body forced, not from the mind;  
Hands there we join, but not our hearts,  
Whereby it happeneth few are blessed,  
And many thousand that resort  
Unto the Court, by it are lost.  
And of those few that blessed are,  
We often see there fall again;  
Their blessed days they spend in care,  
And after end their lives in pain.     

The complaint for want of treasure; The King sets many Lands to Fe● farm. That death of the Lord Harrington: The death of his son.  
GReat sums of money being disbursed upon her grace's Wedding, and daily employments for others● some for Ireland; The Lord Treasurer wanting there to defray ordinary expenses, some for the Kings own use, and some for other occasions, causes a great complaint for want of treasure: Officers at Court go unpaid, and many of the King's Servants receive not their wages at set times, so that the King is forced to set many of his Lands to Fee farm, and the four deputy Treasurers, with some few other, have the passing of them; now my Lord Harrington obtained a Patent for the making of brass Farthings, a thing that brought with it some contempt, though lawful; for all things lawful are not expedient: who being enjoined to go into the Low-countries with her Grace, by the way lost his life. His son succeeded both in honour and Patent, and enjoyed them not long before he died: within short time after the hopefullest gentleman of that name, more fit for employments, then for a private life; and for a Statesman, then for a soldier: he had been at Cambridge, there reputed for a great scholar; he traveled into Italy, Venice, and France; he employed his time for the most part in study, whereby he made himself apt for great matters. But yet it pleased God even then when he was in his greatest hope to cut off his days: He gave all that he had to the Countess of Bedford his Sister, defeating her neither of the land, nor the right of the Barony, esteeming her to be worthy of much more than he had to leave. He made a worthy and godly end: These things coming so thick one after another, left no time for men to dream of Overbury's death.   

The Earl of Somerset his conscience accuseth him; Northampton's speech to him: He becometh a neuter in Religion. The Earl of Northampton's course.  
A nullity being thus purchased, he dignified (as is said) and the ma●ch concluded about Candlemas, 1614 they Marry with much joy and solemnity; a mask being performed at Somerset's charge, and many rumours pass without any respect; all these things notwithstanding, a guilty conscience can never go without accusation; pensiveness and fullness do possess the Earl, his wonted mirth forsakes him, his countenance is cast down, he takes not that felicity in company as he was wont to do, but still something troubles him: Verily it is a dangerous thing to fall within the compass of a guilty conscience, it eateth and consumeth the soul of a man as rust doth Iron, or as beating waves hallows the Rocks; and though these things are not made public, yet nevertheless Northampton observed it in him, having so admirable capacity, he could make use of all things; wherefore knowing his disease, viz. his mind feared with murder, and knowing the Earl tractable (as he desired) enters into more familiar discourse with him: For when the mind of a young man is corrupted with evil, he runs headlong into sin without stay or fear; wherefore amongst many other discourses, this falls between them. That in case the death of Sir Thomas Overbury should come to light, they were then in a most dangerous state. And the next thing they must expect is loss of life, goods, lands, honours, their names to be made scandalous to the world, and to conclude, to be branded with an ignominious death. Neither that there was any way left for to escape this, but either by making their own fortunes so great, that he might oppose all accusations, or else being Catholics, to endeavour that in defending them, they again might assist their cause in case that any matter came against them; this carrying some show and likelihood of truth. And that indeed his case was desperate, if ever it should come to light, concludes to combine with No●h●●pton in wh●tsoever he should undertake, and in the conclusion became a ●e●ter in Religion; whereupon, to the intent he might set further evils on foot, besides those before remembered, he begins to rip up the ancient quarrel between the Welsh and the English, who now murmur at some discontents; and to the intent to hearten on the Irish, sends Letters thither by the hands of one Ha●mon a poor man, unto such whom ●e knows to be faithful in the Romish Religion, and thereby confirms them in their opinion, assuring them that God will still provide one or more to protect his Church, and that now the greatest Favourite in England would stand for them: upon which Letter the Irish grew obstinate, as I have said, and altogether neglect the service of God, and utterly deny the Oath of Supremacy, protesting loss of life and goods, rather than to be enforced to so damnable a thing.  
Now we see there the Church utterly forsaken, none to hear divine Service. The discipline of their own Church established, and the Irish in general expecting a day to have their liberty and freedom in Religion. The same man returning this news, is after sent into Yorkshire with a black staff and a knob upon the end, within which knob, Letters are conveyed from place to place as well for pointing Assemblies as meetings for mass, and entertaining of Priests; now might a man go to mass in divers places of the City, and who were so publicly favoured as Priests? Their number increase, their Priests are entertained, Confession in many places publicly practised, and although it was contrary to the Law, yet greatness overcountenancing them, it was little regarded. In the mean time quarrels went forward between the Scottish and English, continual complaints, and the suit of the clothworkers, with hope of obtaining their request, not so much because of the profit, as to raise up a discontent between the duchy and them. These courses caused divers men to pass divers opinions, and many men to pass their opinion as they affected either parties.   

The rumours of the Spanish Fleet. A Proclamation against Spanish money. A Leaguer in the Low-countries. The public rumours against my Lord of Northampton. He exhibits a bill in the Star-chamber against the publishers. They justified by my Lord of canterbury's speech. The death of my Lord of Northampton; his funeral; his Will. The names of those that succeeded him in his Offices.  
NOt long after it was rumoured abroad, that the Spaniard had drawn out a navy of Ships of an hundred sail, but to what purpose no man knew; many suspected for England, because they were come so far upon those Coasts; others said, for the use of the mariners to accustom them to Sea: but most of all were of opinion, that these were but shadows, and that the Spaniard was to have taken advantage of the time. Howsoever upon this there followed a Proclamation against Spanish money, that their money should not go currant in England, which caused many to suspect worse than the worst, & some said one thing, some another: upon the neck of that comes wars in the Low-countries, some say against the Palsgrave, some against the State. The Scots begin to fly out in Rebellion, and are suppressed. The wild Irish in Ireland begin to stir, sometimes thirty, sometimes forty, sometimes three hundred fly out and stand upon their guard. These things minister occasion of wonder to the ignorant, and many of them, who knew the truth of things, knew not what to say to it. Priests come into the Kingdom by tens, fifteens, twenty at a time, and have free access, so that my Lord of Northampton (being Warden of the Cinque Ports) begins to be called into question: Some say he hath a hand in those things; others say he lets Priests have their free access, and that in Bloomesbery amongst his own buildings they have free harbour; others say, that through his countenance, thither any man might go to public mass, besides many other Intelligences being brought from beyond the Seas draws him further into suspicion, and the King begins to withdraw his favour from him, wherefore he exhibits his Bill against such as defamed him into the Star-chamber: some are for this cause committed to the Tower, others to Newgate, others to the fleet, till they come to their Answer. And in the end openly in the Star-chamber he is accused for suffering Priests to have free access into Yorkshire, under pretence of his Office, for countenancing them, for sending Letters to and again to encourage men in their opinions, and many other such like things.  
And when the Lords should come to pass their voices, my Lord of Canterbury amongst the rest made a speech to this effect: [That although many have been the rumours and reports that had passed in these times, some of them shut up for uncertain truths and flying fables; then entertained for approved truths; yet nevertheless such things are grounded upon reason, and for which, men of upright consciences have some occasion to speak, to have such either lightly valued or punished, was rather injustice than any way beseeming the equity of that Court: But in truth these whereof we now speak are grounded upon some cause, and my Lord's own Letters make evident, that he hath done some things both against his own conscience and meaning, merely to attain unto honour and sovereignty, and to please the King:] And with that he pulls out a Letter written from my Lord to Cardinal Bellarmine to this effect:  
THat howsoever the condition of the times compelled him, and His Majesty urged him to turn Protestant, yet nevertheless his heart stood with the Papists, and that he would be ready to further them in any attempt. This and much more being read, to some purpose he proceeded, and showed how that those things were not merely uncertain, but even the actions that followed them did justify them to be true. For there was never known to be so many Priests to come over into this kingdom in so short a time as of late there had done, neither could he assure himself that my Lord was true hearted unto the State. Also he harboured such about him as would undertake to write in defence of the Gunpowder Treason.  
This and much more being said, about the latter end of Easter term, in the year 1614 my Lord being hereat much discouraged, after the Court broke ●ooke his Barge, went to Greenwich, there made his Will, wherein he published himself to die in the Faith he was baptised, made some of his Servants his Executors, others he bestowed gifts upon; his fair house he disposed to my Lord chamberlain, his Lands to my Lord Theophilus Howard; retired back to his house at London, and before midsummer term following was dead.  
Many were the rumours that were raised of this man after his death. That he was a traitor to the State, and that he was not dead, but carried beyond Sea to blind the world, and the reason was, because he would be buried at Dover, and not at London.  
Others say, that if he had lived, he would have been the author of much stir; many dislike him, and as was reported, even the King himself towards his latter end, which made him to fall into these courses: but truly, he was a notable politician, and carried things more commodiously for the Papists then ever any before him. His funeral was kept privately at Rochester, where he desired to be buried, because it was the chief Port town of his Office, without any state to outward appearance. My Lord Treasurer that now is succeeded him in his Treasurership. My Lord of Somerset made Chancellor of Cambridge. My Lord Zouch Warden of the Cinque Ports. My Lord of Worcester some short time after Lord privy seal. These succeeded him in his Offices.   

The clothworkers obtain their Petition. The old Charter of the Merchant adventurers is seized into the King's hands. The Dutch grow discontented at it. The doubtfulness of Somerset's mind. He sues for his pardon; obtains it. My Lord Chancellor refuseth to seal it. Falls into suspicion. Begins to be neglected.  
THe clothworkers still persisting in their suit, and having such strong friends to stand for them, and Alderman Cocking a rich Merchant to back them, they at length obtained what they desired, and Proclamation goes forth, that no more white Cloth shall go over undied, undressed, and for this purpose the old Charter of the merchant's adventurers is seized into the King's hands, so that the Company fall to decay. Now the Dutchmen they begin to murmur ag●inst the English, and make Proclamation there, that no man shall buy any such clothes as come over so dressed and died; wh●reupon, the English make a new Proclamation, that no man shall tr●nsport Wooles out of the kingdom. These things fed some with hope of some further troubles, yet nevertheless it is so ordered by the council, that all things are pacified, and some quantity amounting to a certain number of white clothes are suffered to be transported, as well to give content to the Hollander, as satisfaction and employment to some young Merchants that had entered into this Trade, by which means these clamours are a little stayed; yet nevertheless great impression of envy is between these two Countries.  
Now one of the greatest friends that Somerset had being dead, and himself still jealous of his safety, he begins to cast about how he might avoid the danger of the Law, for his intelligencers gave him notice of many desperate words that were uttered concerning Overburie's death; whereupon, finding the King in a good humour, he moves him to this effect: That whereas it had pleased His Majesty to commit many things into his charge, and some of them proving something too weighty for him to undergo, it was so, that ignorantly he run himself into a Praemunire, whereby he had forfeited to him both his lands, goods and liberty, and that he came now to surrender them all up into His majesty's hands, unless it pleased him of his wonted favour towards him to grant him pardon for that, and many other offences that he had ignorantly committed. The King still bearing a good affection towards him, bid him draw his pardon and he would sign it: whereupon, he makes his repair to Sir Robert Cotton, and entreats him to look him a pardon, the largest he could find in former precedents; so he brings him one that was made by the Pope to Cardinal Woolsey. The effect of which was.  
That the King of his mere motion and special favour, did pardon all, and all manner of Treasons, misprisions of Treason, Murders, Felonies and outrages whatsoever by the said Sir Robert Car Earl of Somerset committed, or hereafter to be committed; with many other words to make it more ample and large according to form, which he caused to be drawn and engrossed, and brought it into the King. The King signed it; at length it comes to my Lord Chancellor's hand, he peruses it, and refuseth to let it pass the seal. My Lord asks the reason, answer was made, That he could not justify the doing of it, but that he should incur a praemunire as well as himself. This struck Somerset to the heart, and now he was in greater doubt, than ever he was before, for still he is stung with fear to be touched with Overbury's death, and so very pensively retires to Whitehall, and there remains.  
The King coming to London, my Lord Chancellor acquainted him with the Pardon, and showed the King what danger he had incurred, in case he had sealed it. The King perceiving the truth of the business, suspecting some greater matter than he knew of, withdraws his countenance from Somerset, who now wanting virtue to support his greatness, without the King's favour falls into the contempt of many, and those that are his enemies neglect him, and do as it were deride his manner of carriage, by which means he runs headlong into his own perdition, as shall be hereafter showed.   

My Lord chancellor sued in the Star-thamber, for being within the compass of a praemunire. The King goes to Cambridge. A breach about Ignoramus. My Lord Coke stands against my Lord Chancellor. The King grace's Sir George Villers; bestows great honours upon him. Somerset's courses to conceal Overbury's death. His covetousness; His insolency. He is crossed by Villers. The report of the vulgar.  
IN this year (1614) the King, by the entreaty of Somerset, determined to go to Cambridge, and there was entertained with great solemnity, but amongst the rest, there was a Play called by the name of Ignoramus, that stirred up a great contention between the common Lawyers and the scholars, in so much as their flouts grew unsufferable, but at last it was stayed by my Lord chancellor, and the explaining of the meaning.  
About this time it happened, that divers Citizens having recovered certain sums of money in the King's Bench, and thereof having had Judgement against the party Defendant, nevertheless exhibits his Bill into the Chancery to have relief of the plaintiffs at the Common-law, having already had Judgement of the same matter, there stands out, and disobeyes the King's process; whereupon a Writ of Contempt issues against them, they are taken, committed to the Fleet, and there continue in their obstinacy; nevertheless, not long after, upon some advice, they exhibit their Bill into the Star-chamber against my Lord, intending that he ought not to intermeddle with any matter that were already determined at the Common-law, and whereof a Judgement had been passed: And this was ordained by the Statute of 4. H. 4. cap. 23● whereby it was enacted, that Judgement given in the King's Court, shall not be examined in Chancery, Parliament, or elsewhere, until it be undone by attaint, or error, &c. Now my Lord having laid them fast up upon a Bill exhibited before him, and Judgement being already given, that therefore my Lord had incurred a praemunire, and humbly prayed relief in this case. Many were the opinions of Lawyers concerning this matter; some stood on my Lord chancellor's side, some said the poor men had injury, and that they might justify what they had done; and amongst many my Lord Coke stood out very stiffly, that my Lord Chancellor could not justify that action. And thus it stood still in question whether my Lord be in a praemunire, or no.  
My Lord of Somerset continuing still in his loose courses, and utterly neglecting that severity that ought to be in a man of his place, besides the former suspicions and jealousies, gives occasion of others also, whereby the King doth more and more fall into dislike: There being at this time about the Court a young Gentleman, that not long before had arrived from Travels out of France, his name was Villers, a Leicester-shire Gentleman, and of an ancient House, who as well in respect of carriage, as of his countenance, was more remarkable than many others. On this man the King casts a particular affection, holding him to be the only properest and best deserving Gentlemen of England; whereupon he entertained him into favour, bestows a thousand pound upon him, after adorns him with the title of Knighthood. And now he begins to grow every day more eminent than other, greater honours are bestowed upon him, as the dignity to be Knight of the Garter, and Master of the Horse; places not common to every person, and so much the more remarkable, because they are bestowed upon him, being so young in years, his wisdom is commended of the wisest, and his expectations greater than many that went before him.  
This stings Somerset to the heart, to see another step to his place, he more fears his subversion and downfall; wherefore he goes about to circumvent danger, and for this purpose sends into France to make away the Apothecary that administered the physic that killed Sir Thomas, endeavouring to get in all Letters and writings that had past concerning the business, and disgracing and discountenancing all such as at any time once spoke of the death of Overbury, to the intent that it might be concealed and kept close; but what God will have disclosed, sh●ll never be concealed: messengers are sent from place to place, he being a privy councillor, (and in favour) his Warrant passes currant, so that in all places, trunks, Chests, Boxes, Studies, Daries, and such houses wherein he suspected any Letters or other matters that appertained to that mischief lay hid, were broken open and se●rched, to the intent that they might bring some writings to my Lord, yet nevertheless many (and more than were dreamt on) of those Letters, came to my Lord of Canterbury's hand, and my Lord Coke●, so that those courses makes him rather more suspected, than any whit at all eases his grief.  
At home in his Office using extraordinary covetousness and parsimony, he thereby heaped up to himself great store of money, and would not undertake any enterprise without he was well rewarded for his pai●es, every new occasion and occurrence that came to his hands, brought him in also a fleece of money. Offices in Court that lay in his gift nor bestowed without money, the King's letters not purchased without money, no Pardon without money, so that he was as great a Bribe-taker as his Mother the Countess of Suffolk, and many Rumours and hard Reports were spread on him for the same, yet nevertheless he still continued his favour in despite (as a man may say) of his opposites, even unto the greatest dignity, which caused him to be as proud as covetous, and to commit as many insolences as he had received sesecret Bribes, thought it no matter to lean on the Cushion in public ●o check some of the Nobility; and amongst the rest to make a flat breach with my Lord of Canterbury, a grave and reverend Gentleman, one of the Pillars of this kingdom, and that could discern the follies of this young man. Thus admiring of his own worth, he works his own subversion, and by these insolences plucking more evils upon his head, and daily adding more enemies, to those that before he had deserved.  
These things laying him open to the envy of the greatest; and Sir George Villers seeing his exceeding covetousness, having now the ears of the King, would oftentimes cross his expectations, as it is credibly reported, and deceive him of many a bribe which he hoped for, doing those things voluntarily, and for a thank, which my Lord would not have spoken of without much money. These courses laid him open to the contempt of the vulgar also: And now all men according to their custom, began to exclaim of his great extortion. Thus may we see him falling.   

Overbury's death called into question. Weston sent ●or, and by my Lord Coke examined, stands out; Upon my Lord of London's persuasion confesseth all. The Earl and Countess attached, they deny the deed. Sir Thomas Monson committed to the Tower. Sir Walter Raleigh and the Countess of Shrewsbury set at liberty. The death of the Lady Arbella. The conviction of the Earl and Countess: The manner of their Arraignment, and the many rumours that were spread upon these things.  
THe death of Overbury having now lain consealed about two years, and the Earl's insolency growing every day greater than other, procures him many more enemies, as is said, yet there was no man that was so hardy, for fear of the King's displeasure, (He carrying a very good affection still towards him) to make him acquainted with it, or bring it to the trial of the Law. At last, for divers are the rumours how it was discovered; one was, that Sir Thomas Overbury's man petitioned to my Lord Coke, and the substance of the petition was, to let his Lordship understand, that whereas his Master had been committed to the Tower by the consent of Northampton and Summersault, and there languishing to death unnaturally; that if it pleased his Lordship to call one Weston before him, he might gather that out of him that might discover the whole plot and practise. Others say that my Lord of Canterbury having conceived, (as is said) some dislike against Somerset, and willing to make himself gracious with the King, possessed Sir Ralph Wimrood with the business (one that was preferred to be Secretary under my Lord of Somerset, and to assist him) and lets him understand the whole matter, as hath been related, and that many Letters came unto his hands, and presumptuous therein that it should be true: And there remained a trunk in such a place, wherein many writings were contained, that would make evident the truth. Sir Ralph being willing likewise to become more emi●ent with the King, possessed him with the business, and proceeding upon a confident ground; Warrant was sent to my Lord Coke to prosecute the matter. Others say, that by the loss of a Letter it was disclosed: And divers opinions there were how it should come to light, it having been kept close so long; For things of this nature when they are so long concealed, bring more wonder; but howsoever it was made known, my Lord Coke by virtue of his warrant sent for Wes●on to come before him, and examined him upon divers articles concerning this subject, and persuaded him, entreated him, and threatened him to tell the truth; Weston stood out, and would not, thus he persisted some week or fortnight, many men urged him to it; Accusers were brought before him, and deposed upon their oaths, that whatsoever was objected against him was true; this little prevailed.  
At last, my Lord of London went to him, and by his persuasions tells all how Mistress Turner, and the Countess came acquainted, what relation sh●e had to Witches, Sorcerers, Conjurers, that Northampton, Summersault, Franklin, the Monson's, and Yeluis had their hands in that business, whereupon they were all apprehended, some sent t● the To●er, others to Newgate, having thus con●e●● this e●ill b●●●g convicted according to the course of Law, he was had to Tyburn to be hanged, and there Sir Hi●les and others im●gining this to be but a ●able, and that he was hired to accuse those p●r●●●s, (for who almost would have believed it) examines him at the gallows, and upon his examination he justified what he had done● to the great wonder of all tho●e that stood by and heard it. After him Mistress Tu●ner, after her F●an●klin, than Sir Ierva●● Yeluis, upon their Arraignments of the Fact●, were found guilty, and hanged, all very penitent and sorrowful for what was done.  
To write t●e particulars of their arraignments, confessions, and the manner of their deaths is needless, being common: Now the Countess and the Earl are attached, and committed to protection, one to the Dean of Westminster, the other to the sheriff of London, and according to the course of such case●, there are great reports raised, watch and ward kept more than ordinary, and the guard more observant: This makes the King stand at a maze, and to imagine there is no truth in men, grows more jealous of himself then heretofore, because his only favourite, and that (as it were) in his bosom, should be entrapped in such an evil: And the ●ongues of the vulgar began to walk, some say that Northampton and Summersault had combined with the Spaniard for a sum of money to deliver them up the navy, and that Sir William Monson, Vice-Admiral, should have done it the next Spring: That the King and the whole State should have been poisoned at the C●●istni●g of the Countess child, (for she was then with child) and m●ny more the like rumours were spread not worth the speaking, to the intent to incense the people the more against them, and to make the matter the more heinous and grievous to the world. At this time the Lady Arbella died, a matter more remarkable than was observed, and gave some occasion of speech to many, but yet nevertheless past over in silence.  
These hurlyburlies being grown somewhat calm, and the minds of men a little settled, the Countess and others authorised for that purpose to be examined, and my Lord Coke was the man that pressed the Evidence against them, which (as it was thought) procured some great enemies, two and twenty Articles were objected against them, Summersault pleaded Ignorance, and that these Objections were mere tricks to entrap him, and set the King against him; The same answer was in the Countess, and that it might rather seem to proceed out of envy, then for any just cause. They cause it to be given out, that their accusations were wrong●ull, and none were accused but such as were the greatest Favourites to the King, so that there was much ado to little purpose. At last, when they heard that Weston, Turner, Franklin, and Yeluis were all hanged, and that they had confessed the matter, the Countess being brought before the council, confessed the whole truth, but Somerset stood to it still, that he was not agent in it, and that these accusations did nothing touch him, and therefore ought to be excused.  
Nevertheless his lands and goods were committed to custody, part to my Lord Treasurer, and part to others to the King's use: The Money, Plate, and Jewels which he had heaped up together, amounted, by report, unto 200000. pounds, his lands 19000. pounds per annum, and the King bestowed many of them upon the Prince. There was little speech of this, in respect that both person and matter, wherein he was agent, were both envied, and facinorous, nei●her was there any that pitied him, but most said, that hoe had but his just deserts, for the injuries and wrongs that he offered unto Essex.  
The Arraignment was put off, and in the mean time Sir Walter Raleigh was set at liberty. This man had continued in the Tower now almost ten years a condemned person, for a plot intended against his Majesty at his first coming in; he bore a great envy against Somerset, because he had begged his lands of the King, and got it into possession, giving him many quips and taunts, during the time that he was in the Tower. These two accidents happening beyond expectation, that the one being the special favourite of the King, the other a condemned man, the one imprisoned, the other set at liberty, gave great occasion of speech and rumour, and so much the more wonder and admiration, because of Rawleighes wit and policy.  
And this year also the Countess of Shrewsbury, who was committed for being privy to the escape of the Lady Arbella, was set at liberty, and the Earl her husband died, leaving the greatest part of his land unto his daughters; during all this time, that is, from Michaelmas term, unto the short vacation, between Easter and Trinity term, the Arraignment was put off; some attributed the cause to be, for because the Countess was with child, and in the mean time was delivered of a daughter; some that further proofs of incertainties might be brought in; others to give them longer time to consider on the matter, and that it was a great favour; I say, these rumours being published amongst the people; at length the King authorised my Lord Chancellor to be High Steward of England for the time being, and joined eight of his Judges with him for his assistance, viz. The four Judges of the King's Bench, my Lord chief Justice of the Common Pleas, Justice Niccols, my Lord chief Baron, and others of the Barons, with power to call Summersault and the Countess before them, to show cause why they should not have sentence of death passed upon them for this offence committed, both against the Laws of the Land, and against the King, his crown and Dignity. So upon the four and twentieth of May, in this year 1616. There being a Seat royal placed at the upper end of Westminster-hall, a little short of the King's Bench, and seats made round about it, for the rest of the Justices and peers to sit on, and a little cabin built close by the Common Pleas, for the Prisoners, when they came from the Tower to be put to rest them in: They proceed to the trial after this manner. As soon as my Lord High Steward, with great State, came into Westminster-hall, with his assistants the Judges, divers Lords and Gentlemen attending, and four sergeants at arms before him, ascending a little gallery made of purpose to keep off the crowd, he takes his seat, and the rest of the Assistants and peers, according to their places. This being done, after silence proclaimed, one of the heralds at arms reaches the High Steward his Patent, and delivers it to the clerk of the Crown to read it; After Sir Ralph Conis●y reaches him his staff, and i● there present, according to his place, to give attendance.  
After the Patent read, and proclamation for silence, and that the accusers should come in, the Prisoners were sent for by the clerk of the chequer, whose office it was to attend the Prisoners: This being done, and the Prisoners placed at the bar, Sir Henry Fanshaw reads the Indictment, to which the Countess pleaded guilty, and confessed the fact: But Somerset pleaded not guilty, and had time from ten of the clock at night to clear himself; much was said, but to little purpose: At last, the peers having conferred of the matter, return their verdict, laying their hands upon their breasts, and swearing by their Honours (for they do not m●ke an Oath as ordinary Jurors do) that he was guilty of the murder, and poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury; whereupon my Lord High Steward pronounced sentence of death ag●inst him; and so he was had back to the Tower, where he remaineth at the mercy of the King. This man may justly say, as Pope Barbaressa said when he was put from the popedom. 

Qui modo summus eram laetatus nomine praecel  
Tristis & abjectus, nunc mea fata gemo  
Excelsus solio nuper versa●ar in alto  
Cunctaque gens pedibus oscula prona dabant  
Nunc ego poenarum sundo devulvor in imo  
Vultum deformem pallidaque ore gero  
Omnibus e terris aurum mihi sponte ferebant,  
Sed nec gaesa juvet, nec quis amicus adest.  
Sic varians fortuna vices adversa secundis  
Su●dit & ambiguis nomine ludit atr●  
Cedit in exemplum cunctis quos gloria tollit,  
Vertice de summo mox ego Papa cado.   

Lo here I am that sometime took delight in name of Pope,  
Now being sad and abject do bewail my fate and hope  
Of late preferred, I did converse with stately pomp and grace,  
And every Nation to my feet their ready kisses place:  
But now in dungeon deep am thrown of pains in mortal fear  
A countenance pale, a body lean, deformed with grief I bear,  
From all parts of the earth they brought me gold without constraint;  
But now no gold, nor precious stones, nor friends can ease my plaint.  
So variable Fortune is so nice to great attempts,  
So subject and so doubtful too, so adverse in events,  
That Atis with our name doth play as with a tennis ball,  
For being lifted up with fame, the greater is our fall:  
Let this example be to such, whom Fortune doth advan●e.  
That they, as I by popedom fell, may fall by like mischance.    
For we cannot read of any that ever was so great a Favourite as Somerset, neither the Spencers with Edward the second, nor the Earl of Warwick with Henry the sixth, nor the Duke of Suffolk with Henry the eighth, as this man was with the King; neither was there any that ever came to so sudden and unexpected a fall.  
They therefore that do but rightly consider this Discourse, shall find in it three things worthy observation.  
First, that neither honour nor wealth, are any certain inheritance, but occasions (Unless God be merciful unto us) for the devil to pick a quarrel against us, to bring us to infamy.  
Secondly, that God never leaves murder (though never so closely carried) unpunished.  
Lastly, that there was never known in so short a time, so many great men die with suspicion of poison and witchcraft; viz. First, my Lord Treasurer, the Prince, my Lord Harrington, his son, Overbury, Northampton, besides these which are no less than six other within three years and an half, and the two Monson's which yet remain untried.   

Sir Francis Bacon his Speech at the Arraignment of the Earl of Somerset.  
IT may please your Grace, my Lord High Steward of England, and you my Lords the peers, you have here before you Robert Earl to be tried for his life, concerning the procuring and consenting to the empoisonment of Sir Thomas Overbury, than the King's Prisoner in the Tower of London, as an Accessary before the Fact.  
I know your hopes cannot behold this Noble man, but you must remember the great favours which the King hath conferred on him, and must be sensible, that he is yet a member of your body, and a peer as you are, so that you cannot cut him off from your body but with grief, and therefore you will expect from us, that give in the King's Evidence, sound and sufficient matter of proof to satisfy your Honours and consciences.  
As for the manner o● the Evidence, the King our Master who (amongst other his virtues, excelleth in that virtue of the Imperial Throne which is Justice) hath given us command that we should not expatiate nor make invectives, but materially pursue the Evidence, as it conduceth to the point in question.  
A matter, that (though we are glad of so good a warrant) yet we should have done of ourselves; for far be it from us by any strains, or wit of Arts, to seek to play prizes, or to bl●son our names in blood, or to carry the day otherwise then upon sure grounds; we shall carry the lantern of Justice, (which is the Evidence) before your eyes upright, and to be able to salve it from being put out with any grounds of evasion or vain defences, that is our parts, and within that we shall contain ourselves, not doubting at all, but that the Evidence itself will carry that force, as it shall need no advantage, or aggravation.  
First, my Lords, the course that I will hold in delivering of that which I shall say, (for I love order) is this: First I will speak somewhat of the nature and greatness of the offence, which is now to be tried, not to weigh down my Lord with the greatness of i●, but rather contrariwise to show, that a great offence needs a good proof. And that the King howsoever he might esteem this Gentleman heretofore as the Signet upon his finger (to use the Scripture phrase) yet in s●ch a case as this, he was to put him off.  
Secondly, I will use some few words touching the nature of the proofs, which in such a case are competent.  
Thirdly, I will state the proofs.  
And lastly, I will produce the proofs, either out of examination, and matters of writing, or witnesses viva voce.  
For the offence itself, it is of crimes next unto high Treason the greatest, it is the foulest of Felonies: It hath three degrees of stages. First, it is murder by empoisonment. Secondly, it is murder committed upon the King's prisoner in the Tower. Thirdly, I might say that it is murder under the colour of Friendship, but that it is a circumstance moral, and therefore I leave that to the Evidence itself.  
For murder, my Lords, the first record of Justice which was in the world, was judgement upon a murderer, in the person of Adam's first borne Ca●●e, and though it was not punished by death, but with banishment, and mark of ignominy, in respect of the primogenitors, or the population of the world, yet there was a severe charge given, that it should not go unpunished.  
So it appeareth likewise in Scripture, that the murder or Abner by Joah, though it were by David respited in respect of great services past, or reason of State, yet it was not forgotten.  
But of this I will say no more, because I will not discourse, it was ever admitted and ranked in God's own Tables, that murder is of offences, between man and man next unto high Treason, and disobedience to Authority, which sometimes have been referred to the first Table, because of the lieutenancy of God in Princes the greatest.  
For empoisonment, I am sorry it should be heard of in our kingdom; It is not nostri generis, nec sanguinis peccatum; It is an Italian com●it for the Court of Rome, where that person that intoxicateth the Kings of the earth, is many times really and materially intoxicated and empoisoned himself. But it hath three circumstances, which makes it grievous beyond other matters: The first is, that it takes a man away in full peace in Gods and the King's peace, that thinks no harm, but is comforting of nature with resection and food, so that as the Scripture saith, His table is made a snare.  
The second is, that it is easily committed, and easily concealed, and on the other side ha●dly prevented, and hardly discovered; for murder by violence Princes have Guards, and private men have houses, attendants, and arms, neither can such murder be committed, but cum sonitu with some overt and apparent acts, that may discover and trace the offenders; but for poison, the cup itself of Princes will scarce serve in regard of many poisons that neither discolour nor distaste; It comes upon a man when he is careless, and without respect; and every day a man is within the gates of death.  
And the last is, because it concerneth not only the destruction of the maliced man, but of every man, quis modo tutu● erit, for many times the poison is prepared for one, and is taken by another, so that men die other men's deaths, Concidit infelix alieno vulnere, and it is as the Psalmist calleth it, Sagitta no●●e volans, The arrow that flieth by night, that hath no aim nor certainty; and therefore if any man shall say to himself, here is great talk of empoisonment, but I am sure I am safe, for I have no enemies, neither have I any thing another man should long for, why? that is all one, he may sit next him at the table, that is meant to be empoisoned, and pledge him of his cup: As we may see in the example of 21. H. 8. that where the purpose was to poison one man, there was poison put into barm or yeast, and with that barm, pottage or gruel was made, whereby sixteen of the Bishop of Rochester's servants were poisoned; nay, it went into the almsbasket likewise, and the poor at the gate were poisoned. And therefore with great judgement did the Statute made that year touching this accident, made empoisonment high Treason, because it tends to the dissolving of human society, for whatsoever offence doth so, is in the nature thereof high Treason.  
Now for the third degree of this particular offence, which is, that it is committed upon the King's prisoner, who was out of his own defence, and merely in the King's protection, and for whom the King and the State were a kind of respondent; it is a thing that aggravates the fault much, for certainly (my Lord of Somerset) let me tell you this, that Sir Thomas Overbury is the first man that was murdered in the Tower of London, save the murder of the two young Princes, by the appointment of Richard the third.  
Thus much of the offence, now to the proofs.  
For the nature of proofs, you may consider that imprisonment, of all offences is the most secret, even so secret, as that if in all cases of imprisonment, you should require testimony, you should as good proclaim impunity.  
Who could have impeached Livia by testimony, for the poisoning of the sigges upon the tree, which her husband was wont to gather with his own hands; who could have impeached Parasetis for the poisoning of the one side of the knife she carried with her, and keeping the other side clean, so that herself did eat of the same piece of meat that they did, whom she did impoyson.  
These cases are infinite, and need not to be spoken of the secrecy of empoisonment, but wise men must take upon them in these secret cases Salomon's spirit, that when there could be no witnesses, collected the act by the affection: But yet we are not at our cause, for that which your Lordships is to try, is not the act of empoisonment, for that is done to your hands; all the world by Law is concluded to say, that Overbury was poisoned by Weston, but the question before you is of the procurement only, and as the Law termeth it as accessary before the fact, which abetting is no more, but to do or use any act or means which may aid or conduce to the empoisonment.  
So that it is not the buying nor the making of the poison, nor the preparing, nor confecting, nor commixing of it, or the giving or sending, or laying of the poison, that are the only acts that do amount unto the abetment; but if there be any other act, or means done, or used to give opportunity of empoisonment, or to facilitate the execution of it, or to stop or divert any impediments that might hinder it, and that it be with an intention to accomplish and achieve the empoisonment; all these are abetments and accessaries be●ore the fact: As for example, if there be a conspiracy to murder a man as he journeyeth on the way, and it be one man's part to draw him forth to that journey by invitation, or by colour of some business; and another taketh upon him to dissuade some friend, of his company, that he be not strong enough to make his defence; and another hath a part to hold him in talk till the first blow be given; all these, my Lords, without scruple are accessaries to the murder, although none of them give the blow, nor assist to give the blow.  
My Lords, he is not the hunter alone that lets slip the dog upon the dear, but he that lodgeth him, and hunts him out, or sets a train or trap for him, that he cannot escape, or the like.  
But this, my Lords, little needeth in this case, for such a chain of acts of empoisonment as this, I think were never heard nor seen.  
And thus much of the nature of the proofs.  
To descend to the proofs themselves, I shall keep this course.  
First, I will make a narration of the fact itself.  
Secondly, I will break and distribute the proofs as they concern the Prisoner.  
And thirdly, according to the distribution, I will produce them, or read them to use them.  
So that there is nothing that I shall say, but your Lordships shall have three thoughts or cogitations to answer it.  
First, when I open it, you may take your aim.  
Secondly, when I distribute it, you may prepare your answers without confusion.  
And lastly, when I produce the witnesses, or the examinations themselves, you may again ruminate, and readvise to make your defence.  
And this I do because your memory and understanding may not be oppressed, or overladed with length of evidence, or with confusion of order; nay more, when your Lordships shall make your answer in your time, I will put you in mind where cause shall be of your omission.  
First, therefore Sir Thomas Overbury for a time was known to have great interest and straight friendship with my L. of Somerset, both in his meaner fortunes, and after, in so much that he was a kind of oracle of direction unto him, and if you will believe his own vaunts, (being indeed of an insolent and thrasenicall disposition) he took upon him that the fortunes, reputation, and understanding of this Gentleman (who is well known to have an able teacher) proceede● f●om his company and counsel, and this friendship rested not only in conversation and business at Court, but likewise in communication of secrets of Estate, for my Lord of Somerset exercising at that time by his majesty's special favour and trust, the Office of Secretary provisicually, did not ●orbeare to acquaint Overbury with the King's Packets, and dispatches from all p●●ts of Spain, France, and the Low-countries; and this not by glimpses, or now and then rounding in the ear for a favour, but in a settled manner Packets were sent, sometimes opened by my Lord, sometimes unb●oken unto Overbury, who perused them; copied them, registered them, made table●talke of them, as they thought good. So I will undertake the time was, when Overbury knew more of the Secrets of Estate than the council Table did; nay, they were grown to such inwardness, as they made a play of all the world besides themselves, so as they had ciphers and Jurgons' for the King and Queen, and great men of the realm, things seldom used, but either by Princes or their Confederates, or at the least by such as practise and work against, or at the least, upon Princes.  
But understand me, my Lord, I shall not charge you with disloyalty this day, and I lay this for a foundation, that there was great Communication of Secrets between you and Sir Thomas Overbury, and that it had relation to matter of State, and the great causes of this kingdom.  
But my Lords, as it is a principle in Nature, that the best things are in their corruption the worst, and the sweetest wine maketh the sourest vinegar; so fell it out with them, that this excess, as I may say, of friendship ended in mortal hatred on my Lord of Somerset's part.  
I have heard my Lord Steward say sometimes in the Chanc●ry, that Frost and Fraud ends soul; and I may add a third, and that is the Friendship of ill men, which is truly said to be conspiracy, and not friendship. For it fell out some twelve months or more before Overbury his imprisonment in the Tower, that the Lord of Somerset sell into an unlawful love towards that unfortunate Lady, the Countess of Essex, and to proceed to a Marriage with Summersault; This Marriage and purpose did Overbury mainly impugn under pretence to do the true part of a friend, for that he accounted her an unworthy woman.  
But the truth was, Overbury, who (to speak plainly) had little that was solid for Religion or moral virtue, but was wholly possessed with ambition, and vainglory, was loath to have any partners in the favour of my Lord of Somerset, and especially not any of the House of the Howards, against whom he had always professed hatred and opposition.  
And, my Lords, that this is no sinister construction, will appear to you, when you shall hear, that Overbury made his brags to my Lord of Somerset, that he had won him the love of the Lady by his Letters and industry; so far was he from cases of conscience in this point.  
And certainly, my Lords, howsoever the tragical misery of this poor Gentleman, Overbury, might somewhat obliterate his faults, yet because we are not upon points of civility, but to discover the face of Truth before the face of Justice, for that it is material to the true understanding of the state of this cause. Overbury was nought and corrupt; the ballads must be mended for that point.  
But to proceed, when Overbury saw that he was like to be possessor of my Lord's Grace, which he had possessed so long, and by whose greatness he had promised himself to do wonders, and being a man of an unbounded and impudent spirit, he began not only to dissuade, but to deter him from the love of that Lady, and finding him fixed, thought to find a strong remedy; supposing that he had my Lord's head under his girdle, in respect of communication of Secrets of State, as he calls them himself secrets of Nature, and therefore dealt violently with him, to make him desist with menaces of discovery, and the like: Hereupon grew two streams of hatred upon Over●ury, the one from the Lady, in resp●ct that he crossed her love, and abused her name, (which are ●uries in women) the other of a more deep nature, from my Lord of Somerset himself, who was afraid of Overbury's Nature, and that if he did break from him and fly out, he would wind into him and trouble his whole fortunes; I might add a third s●reame of the Earl of Northampton's Ambition, who desires to be first in favour with my Lord of Somerset, and knowing Ove●●uries malice to himself, and to his House, thought th●t man must be removed and cut off, so as certainly it was resolved and decreed, that Overbury must die.  
Hereupon they had vari●ty of devices to send him beyond the sea's up●n occasion of employment.  
That was too weak, and they were so far from giving way to it, as they crossed it; there rested but two ways of quarrel, assault, and poison. For that of assault, after some proposition and attempt, they passed from it, was a thing too open and subject to more variety of shame; that of poison likewise was an hazardous thing, and subject to many preven●ions and caution, especially to such a working and jealous brain as Overbury had, except he was first fast in their hands; therefore the way was first to get him into a trap and lay him up, and then they could not miss the mark; and therefore in execution of this plot, it was denied, that he should be designed to some honourable employment in foreign parts, and should underhand by my Lord of Somerset be encouraged to refuse it; and so upon contempt he should be laid prisoner in the Tower, and then they thought he should be close enough, and death should be his bail, yet were they not at their end, for they considered, that if there were not a fit Lieutenant of the Tower ●or their purpose, and likewise a fit Underkeeper of O●●r●ury: First, they should meet with many impediments in the giving and the exhibiting of the poison: Secondly, they should be exposed to note an observation that might discover them: And thirdly, Overbury in the mean time might write clamorous and ●urious Letters to his friends, and so all might be disappointed: And therefore the next link of the chain was to displace the then Lieutena●●Wade, and to place Yeluis, a principal abettor in the empoisonment, to displace Cary that was Underkeeper in Wades●ime, and to place Weston, that was the Actor in the empoisonment. And this was done in such a while, that it may appe●re to be done, as it were, in a breath.  
Then when they had this poor Gentleman in the Tower close p●isoner, where he could not scape, nor stir, where he could not feed, but by their hands, where he could not speak or write, but thorough their trunks, then was the time to act the last day of his tragedy.  
Then must Franklin, the purveyour of the poison, procure five, six, seven several poisons, to be sure to hit his complexion: Then must Mistress Turner, the Lay Mistress of the poisons, advise what works at present, and what at distance: Then must Weston be the tormentor, and chase him with poison after poison, poison in salt meats, poison in sweet meats, poison in medicines and vomits, until at last his body was almost come by use of poison to the state of Mithridates body by the use of Treacle, and preservatives, that the force of the poisons was blunted upon him; Weston confessing, when he was chid for not dispatching him, that he had given him enough to poison twenty men.  
And lastly, because all this asked time, courses were taken by Somerset, both to divert all the true means of Overbury's delivery, and to entertain him with continual Letters, partly with hopes and protestations for his delivery, and partly with other fables and negotiations, somewhat like some kind of persons which keep in a tale of fortune telling, when they have a felonious intent to pick their pocket, and pur●es.  
And this is the true narration of this act, which I have summarily recited.  
Now for the distribution of the proofs, there are four heads to prove you guilty, whereof two are precedent to the empoisonment, the third is present, and the ●ourth is following or subsequent, for it is in proofs, as it is in lights● there is a direct light, and there is a direct light, and there is a reflection of light, and a double light.  
The first head or proof thereof is, that there was a root of bitterness, a mortal malice or hatred mixed with a deep and bottomless mischief that you had to Sir Thomas Overbu●y.  
The second is, that you were the principal Actor, and had your hand in all those acts, which did conduce to the empoisonment, and gave opportunity to effect it, without which, the empoisonment could never have been, and which could seem to tend to no other end, but to the empoisonment.  
The third is, that your hand was in the very empoisonment itself, th●t you did direct poison, and that you did deliver poison, and that you did continually hearken to the success of the empoisonment, and that you spurred it on, and called ●or dispatch, when you thought it lingered.  
And lastly, that you did all things after the empoisonment, which m●y detect a guilty conscience for the smothering of it, a●d the avoiding of punishment for it, which can be but of three kinds.  
Th●t you suppressed as much as in you was, testimony, th●t you did de●ace, destroy, clip, and misdate all writings that might give light to the empoisonment; and you did fly to the Altar of guiltiness, which is a Pardon of murder, and a P●rdon ●or yourself, and not for yourself.  
In th●●, my Lord, I convert my speech unto you, because I woul● have you alter the points of your charge, and so make your d●●ence the better.  
And two of these heads I have taken to myself, and left the other ●o the Kings two sergeants.  
For the ●irst main part, which is the mortal malice coupled with fear that was in you to Sir Thomas Overbury, although you did palliate it with a great deal of hypocrisy and dissimul●tion even to the very end, I will prove it, my Lord Steward, the root of this hate was that which cost many a man's life, that is fear of discovering of Secrets, I say, of Secrets of a dangerous and high nature, wherein the course that I will hold shall be this.  
I will show that a breach and malice was betwixt my Lord and Overbury, and that it burst forth into violent threats, and menaces on both sides.  
Secondly, that these Secrets were not of a light, but an high n●ture, I will give you the elevation of the Pole, they were such, as my Lord of Somerset had made a vow, that Overbury should neither live in Court, nor Country; that he had likewise opened himself so far, that either he or himself must die for it; and of Overbury's part he had threatened my Lord, that whether he did live or die, my Lord's shame should never die, but that he would leave him the most odious man in the wo●ld: And ●urther, that my Lord was like enough to repent where Overbury wrote, which was in the Tower of London, he was a Prophet in that; so there is the highest of the Secret.  
Thirdly, I will show you that all the King's business was by my Lord put into Overbury's hands, so as there is work enough for Secrets, whatsoever they write them; and like Princes Confederates they had their ciphers and their Jurgons'.  
And lastly, I will show you that i● was but a toy to say the malice was only in ●espect he spoke dishonourably of the Lady, or for doubt of breaking the Marriage, for that Overbury was ●oadjutor to that love, and the Lord of Somerset was as deep in speaking ill of the Lady as Overbury: and again, it was too late for that matter, for the bargain of the match was then made, and past; and if it had been no more than to remove Overbury for disturbing the match, it had been an easy matter to have landed over Overbury, for which they had a fair way, but that would not serve.  
And lastly, periculum periculo vincitur, to go so far as an empoisonment, must have a deeper malice than flashes, for the cause must have a proportion in the effect.  
For the next general head or proof, which consists in the acts preparatory, or middle acts, they are in eight several points of the compass, as I may term them.  
First, there were divers devices and projects to set Overbury's head on work to dispatch him, and to overthrow him, plotted between the Countess of Somerset, and the Earl of Somerset, and the Earl of Northampton, before they fell upon the empoisonment, for always before men fix upon a course of mischief, there will be some rejection, but die he must one way or other.  
Secondly, that my Lord of Somerset was principal practiser, I must speak it, in a most perfidious manner, to set a train and trap for Overbury to get him into the Tower, without which they durst not attempt the empoisonment.  
Thirdly, that the placing of the Lieutenant Yeluis, one of the empoisonments was done by my Lord of Somerset.  
Fourthly, that the placing of Weston the Underkeeper, who was the principal impoysoner, and the displacing of Carey, and the doing all this within the while of fifteen days after Overbury's commitment, was by the means and countenance of my Lord of Somerset. And these were the active Instruments of the empoisonment, and this was a business the Lady's power could not reach unto.  
Fifthly, that because there must be a cause of this tragedy to be acted, and chiefly because they would not have the poisons work upon the sudden, and for that the strength of Overbury's natnre, or the very custom of receiving the poisons into his body, did overcome the poisons that they wrought not so fast; therefore Overbury must be held in the Tower, as well as he was laid in; and as my Lord of Somerset got him into the Trap, so he keeps him in, and abuses him with continual hope of liberty, but diverted all the true and effectual means of his liberty, and makes light of his sickness and extremities.  
Sixthly, that not only the plot of getting Overbury into the Tower, and the devices to hold and keep him there, but the strange manner of the close keeping of him, being in but for a Contempt, was by the device and means of my Lord of Somerset, who denied his father to see him, denied his servants that offered to be shut up close prisoners with him, and in effect handled it so, that he made him close prisoner to all his friends, and exposed to all his enemies.  
Seventhly, that all the advertisement the Lady received from time to time, from the Lieutenant or Weston, touching Ove●buries state of body, and health, were ever sent nigh to the Court, though it were in progress, and that from my Lady such a thirst and listening he had to hear that he was disp●tched.  
Lastly, that there was a continual negoti●tion to set Over●u●ies head on work, that he should make some to cle●re the Honour of the Lady, and that he should be a good ins●rument toward● her, and her friends; all which w●● but enter●ainment: Fo● your Lordships shall see diver● of my Lord of Northampton's Letters (whose hand was d●epe in this business) written, I must say in dark word●, a●● clauses, that there was one thing pretended, and anot●er ●hing i●tended. That there was a real charge, and somewhat not re●ll, a main drift and dissimulation; n●y further, there be some p●ss●g●s, which the peers in their wisdoms will discern, to point directly at the empoisonment.   
FINIS.