MY Lord did you send for me?

Scrivener, I did. Yesterday in the morning finding my body not at ease, I sent my water to the Doc­tor, whose opinion concerning it was this, that he could perceive nothing in it, but grim Death with his unpartiall Dart.

My Lord, the Fates me thinkes are too blame as yet to conspire your Graces Death.

Friend, doe not flatter me, it is not the Fates but Justice which requires my Death: doest thou not heare as thou walkest along the streets, how each Schoole boys mouth is filled, with a Give little Laud to the Devill.

I must confesse, my Lord, that I have of­ten [Page 4] heard the repetition of those words, but never untill now knew they did concerne your Grace.

Nulla dies sine linea, ther's no day passes without some scandalous Libell or other concer­ning me; that Poet is accounted of no estimation, whose fa [...]sie cannot elevate it selfe so high as to breake my (once stony) heart.

Why star [...]s your Grace?

Because living so long, I have had so little Grace.

My Lord, be not angry with me, if I make use of an old saying & apply it to your selfe.

Speake your pleasure, Friend.

Once being in company, each man was vaunting of his honesty; one amongst the rest starts up, and speaks thus:

I am a man which was borne with as much ho­nesty as the best man here, and have made as little use of it: wherefore they all concluded, that he had the more to come: so, although your Grace hitherto have made but little use of grace, be com­forted with this, that the more grace is to come.

So truely I hope. But prethee friend, tell me seriously, what is the common report abroad concerning me? doe not flatter, but speak the truth.

I hope your Grace doth not take me to be any of the Devils sonne in Laws, for he is father of all lyes, as for my part I could never indure him, he hath such a damnable hot breath, nay, and he stinks as bad; some say he had the Patent for Brim­stone, which was the reason that not long since Tiffenies were out of fashion.

Thou art disposed to be merry: but pre­thee come to the purpose.

As the Priest said, when he did you wot what: but to answer your demand; and if it please your Grace, there are so many things reported a­broad concerning you, that I had need to have as many tongues as Argus had eyes, to report them to your Grace: but hoping you will take my will for the deed, I thus begin. Some say you are a Papist, for setting up Altars; others a murtherer for the death of Thomas Bensteed; others a foe to young Gregory the hangman.

Why to him a foe?

Because your Grace hath sneakt your head out of the coller so long.

I can have patience to heare no further.

My Lord, two yeares since, what was he which durst so to have reviled you, I am sure you had two or three by the eares for a lesse matter.

But what Death doe they say I must die?

Some say, you shall be hangd, others burnt, not one will indure to heare you shall have the Honour to be beheaded.

Tis wonder some doe not say, I will poy­son my selfe.

So they doe, I went the other day to the Apothecaries for a little Ratsbane to kill the Ratts about my house, and he would not let me have it, because he knew I was one of your Graces favou­rites, least I should bring it unto you, and you should poyson your selfe with it, and so save the hangman a labour. Doth your Grace thinke now that I flatter you.

I thinke thou dost not: but now come and prepare thy selfe to write my Will.

Most willingly my Lord.

First, I bestow my Miter, with the ap­purtenances, which have been upholders of my pride, and causers of my downfall, to some lear­ned and pious Prelate, which may make better use of it, than ever I did. Secondly, my Crosses, Beads, Tapers, Holy water, and the like, I bestow upon the Pope, and all his cursed crew.

My Lord, I pray hold a little: I have heard much talke of the Pope, I pray tell me what manner of fellow is he?

I will truely define him unto thee; He is one which goeth about in sheeps cloathing, but in­wardly is a ravening wolfe; his sole intention is to rob God of glory, and man of felicitie: he is the Antichrist, the whore of Babylon, the chiefe em­bracer of all ambitious thoughts; wherefore let all men as they tender their own salvation, beware of him, and his cursed deeds; his thoughts are bloo­dy, and his paths lead unto destruction.

Say you so? for that tricke I will never goe to Rome, least like a roaring Lyon he should devoure me: Now if it please your Grace to goe forward, I am ready.

Thirdly, my Manuscripts I bequeath to the fire, because they savour rather of Popery than sound Religion: my Books to poore Schollers, and best of my Chaplaines, which are most free from the sect of the Arminians.

Fourthly, the wealth which I have besides, I be­stow it freely (with the leave of the Parliament) [Page 7] upon all those which I ever wronged, which my conscience tels me are too many, that to think of it my heart is ready to breake. A few more Legacies I have yet to bestow, which are these; My prayers for the whole Realme; my admonition to future Judges, that they forsake and contemne bribery, and love and cherish equitie. My counsell to the Hierarchy; that they be humble minded, tender hearted, piously affected, industriously to their stu­dies bended, preaching painfully and purely, that it may prove to the edification and salvation of the people: let my falling by sinne, be a cause of their rising by grace: but let those of the Episcopacy beware especially of pride, which is a vice so hor­rid in the sight of God, that for it he made Lucifer which was a shining Angel in heaven, to be a dam­ned fiend in hell.

Hath your Grace finisht now?

I have.

I wonder you should send for me to write your Will, no signe of Death being in your face.

Thy Argument is of no consequence; it is sufficient that I have deserved Death, and how soone I may have according to my desert, it is un­knowne to me, wherefore it is good to take Time whilst Time is.

My Lord, I can onely be sorry for your misfortune, and thats as much as I can doe.

For thy sorrow I thanke thee, but alas, it can doe me no good; it must be prayer of others, and penitency of my own, must lead me unto true beatitude and comfort.

When Cedars fall, what will become of us poore shrubs?

Dost thou not daily see, the lusty and tall Oake hewed downe, and yet the Bramble still doth keepe its residence.

If all our Oakes should be hewed downe, the Bramble sure would much lament their fall.

If that they old and hollow were, they would not.

All this Time you plead against your selfe.

In so doing I act the part of a wise Law­yer, whose cause being good, it is ten to one if he have not the better of the sute. If I should have ta­ken an advantage of thy proposition, and have plea­ded for my selfe, no man of what capacitie soever, but that with great facilitie might have convinced me.

O my Lord, had your Grace been in this minde you now are in six yeares since, you never had exchanged Lambeth Pallace for a Tower Lodging.

Thou sayst too true: my watry casement no longer will stand shut, wherefore farewell.

Farewell.