Defense of Throckmorton

The defense of Job Throkmorton, against the slanders of Master Sutcliffe.

G OOD Madame, I think myself much bound unto your La. that you would vouchsafe to make some pause, and to suspende your judgment before you passed any absolute verdicte against me. It is much I confess in this swift censuring and prejudicial age of ours, wherein men's willes & affections stand for statutes. Seeing then you are so desirous to know the truth, I will not (I assure you) hyde anything from you that I can call to mind. And howe so ever for want of memory (things being passed so long ago) I may happelie fail in some words, time, or circumstance that are not material. I dare auowe unto your La. that for the substance of the thing itself there is no untruth in it at all: But even that which I will justify upon mine oath, if I should be thereunto called before the Parleament, or before the Lord's, which for my better clearing herein (being by this false and slanderous accusation so much injured as I am) is the thing I do desire: protestinge unto you, that I was so far from being acquainted with any of the lewd practices of Hacket and his accomplices, (as Master Sutcliffe and the Pretended Conspiracie would seem to insinuate) that I do not remember that ever I did so much as see the man above once in my life.

As for Copinger (though I confess, I had heard of him before by my cousine Middlemore, that dead is, who had in part discried unto me the humor of the man, and the sickness of his brain) yet the first time that ever I saw him, or had any acquaintance with him, was on a Sabbath in Hillarie teaime before his fall 1590. At which time meeting him at the Black friers in the after noon, when the Lecture was done, he called me aside, telling me that he would gladly speak with me, that his name was Copinger. I asked him what kin he was to Master Ambrose Copinger that served sometime the Earl of Warwike, he said, his own brother, I told him I loved him the better for that. And so he would needs draw me on with him to his lodging.

By the way, as we went, he asked me sundry questions concerning my trouble, & the matter of my endightment, and howe I spedde. I told him, I hoped well, the rather because mine own heart was a witness to me of mine innocence. And then he fell from that to other matters, wherein he made me remember my cousine Middlemore his words: for me thought he began to talk something wildly and strangely of th'overthrow of the BB. and th'expelling of dumb ministers all at one clappe, with sundry other reeling vagaries without sense, whereof I cannot now call to mind every particular. But this among the rest I well remember, that he told me he was in good hope, ere it were long, to bring my L. Treasurer about to like of his devise, •• to which effect he said, he had written to his Honor of late, and looked for answer shortly, unto all which (musinge with myself that he would thus boldly rushe upon these matters, especially to a man that he never saw before) I said little, Onelie I wished that in so great and weighty affairs as those, he would be sure of his ground and warrant before he attempted anything, and do nothing of his own head without th'advise of those that were wise and feared God. I warrant you (saith he) I will be sure of my ground: I will look to that.

When he came to his lodging, he told me it was a day of private fast with him, and thereupon was very importunate with me to have prayed: which when I refused, because (as I told him) I would be loath to take any such thing in hand upon a sudden without premeditation, he casting me a cusshen to kneel on, fell him self to pray after his manner: a thing wherein my Cousine Middlemore had told me before he took a singular delight, having some conceit and opinion of his gift that way.

Loth I am (my good Lady) to be an ouerswift and hasty censurer of any man's prayer, especially in this cold and profane age of ours, wherein men let not blasphemouslie to scorn and deride, as it were, the very gifts and graces of God's spirit. But, if I shall tell you simply and plainly what I think, this prayer of Master Copingers (though it were full of outward zeal and fernentnesse, if not too fervent, because he used many of these ohes, loud sighs and groninges, when as I conceived the matter in weight, did nothing answer those pathetical outcries) was not, me thought, squared after the rule of knowledge, neither in method, matter nor manner, nor yet savouring of that humility and discretion, as were to be wished in so zealous a professor as he made show of. It was very long and tedious, pestered with many impertinent discourses and needless repetitions of one and the same thing, stuffed and enterlarded with sundry bitter imprecations, about which he and I had no small ado, and some hot bickering within a while after. But the issue was, that having caught some cold, and being nothing well before, this long kneeling and late tarrying in that snowie and frostie season, did not help any with to diminishe, but rather to increase my grief, and brought me to a fit of an ague.

Not long after this, when I had something recovered myself, I went to visit Master Cart. in the Fleet, unto whom I signified what had passed betwixt Master Copinger and me, and of the new acquaintance that he would needs fasten and enforce upon me. But he bade me in any wise beware and take heed of him, for he feared him greatly that certeinlie all was not well with him, and that he had laesum principium, at the least, telling me howe fain he would have propounded & fastened some of his fooleries and fantastical revelations upon him. But (saith he) I have returned him such an answer, as I believe he will not greatly like of, neither seek to me in haste again for resolution.

After this having been in the country, when I came up again to London, Master Copinger meeting me in the streets, told me that he had been sundry times at my lodging to seek me, but now I was come, he would visit me one of these days, and thereupon would needs know of me when he should be sure to have me within. I told him I had much business, and therefore could not well set him down any certain time, but seeing I was a Legier here, there would be time enough to meet before the Tearme were done. But he not satisfied heerewith, did not give over, in a manner day by day, yea and sometimes, as I understood, three of four times a day, to seek me at my lodging. Now perceyuing belike that I did as much as in me lay, of purpose to shun and avoid him (as in deed upon the warning of Master Cart. and the former speeces of my Cousine Middlemore I did) he came one morning betime to my lodging before I was out of my bed, and there he told me he had diverse things to show me of importance You shall see (saith he) that I have not dallied or slept this gear, for I have dealt, I tell you, with the highest. And thereupon he pulls me out of his bosom a bundle of papers, which were, the most of them, the copies of such letters, as he had either already written, or else had a purpose to write to several persons for the furtherance of the cause, as he termed it. Among the which I remember there was one to my L. Treasurer, one to the Countess of Warwick, and within that, one to her majesty. Th'effect of all which, to my remembrance, was of certain horrible practices, treasons, & conspiracies intended against the Queen. And all these were only indefinitlie set down in a kind of generality, without naminge or pointinge at any particular, either of time, place, person or circumstance. More he had recorded among those papers of his, th'answer that he told me he had received by word of mouth, both from my L. Treasurer and the Countess to this effect, as I remember, Let not Copinger build us castels in th'air, or feed us with fancies, fables, or dreams, but let him bring us some grounded matter whereupon we may work, and he shall well perceive, he shall be backed against the greatest subject in the lande, &c. Withall I remember he told me that that Letter to her Majesty the Countess kept still in her hands, and would in no wise deliver it, till she saw some better matter to ground upon. Sundrie other copies of letters he shown me at that time, as namely one as I think to his sister Randoll, one to Mayest. Egerton, one to Master Cart. one to Master Fuller, another to Master Lancaster, two to Mayest. Udall, with some others that I cannot now call to mind. Neither, to speak the truth, did I give any great ear unto them, having at that instant some special business, and therefore could the more willingly have spared his company. Yet this I noted among th 〈◊〉 rest, that there were few of those letters of his without some piece of imprecation or other, which sounded strange in mine ears.

Now after he had thus shuffled over his letters and papers unto me, he fell to discourse with me at large of certain strange revelations and apparitions that he had of late, as namely, Once in his bed when his brother Master Ambrose Copinger, and another Gentleman lay by him, He told me him self, that they that lay by him being awaked with the loud noise and groaning that he made, as men something amazed at the strangeness thereof, did call on him aloud, verily thinking him not to be well in his wits, Whereas in truth (saith he) I was inwardly ravished in spirit, did groan in soul, and was talking with my God, who did most comfortably and gloriouslie appear unto me: yet they would by no means believe it, but thought verily I had been beside myself, &c. And then he fell to use many protestations, yea and imprecations unto me, to persuade me of the truth hereof: namely, that he for his part was as sure that the Lord had revealed sundry things unto him, poor worm of th'earth (for those were his words) as he was sure of his death. And even here it was that I took occasion to deal with him so roundlie about those kind of cursinges and imprecations that were so usual with him, as well in his prayer, letters and speeches, as, The Lord confound me, Let vengeance consume me, Let th'earth open and swallow me, &c. Whereof I was so far (I told him) from seeing any warrant or example in the word, that on the contrary I thought they could not be used without a grievous sin and offense unto the Majesty of God. Concerning all which his defense, me thought, was most silie and pitiful, having nothing in the world to salve it with but only Extraordinarie, Extraordinarie.

Wherevpon he fell in some earnest manner to question and expostulate with me, what I thought, whether all extraordinary callings were now ceased, & whether it w ••• not possible that a man should have any particular revelations in this age, as well as in former times, greatly comp • ayning that Master Cart. and Master Egerton, with all • he godly preachers about the City, as well those in prison, as at liberty, should be of that judgment, That we were not to rest upon any of those extraordinary revelations in this age, but rather to accompt of them as deceitful suggestions of Satan, &c.

To which effect I remember, as his custom was to have his bosom full of papers, copies of letters, and such like, (because he said he loved to keep his reckonings about him, that he might walk surly) he drew out certain notes, either of his own hand, or of some of theirs, whereby was manifestly refuted that fond opinion of his concerning revelations: all which, as he shown me one by one, so he forgot not to tell me still by the way, howe weak their reasons were, to this end (as it should seem) that he might thereby, with more ease, fasten this conceit upon me, and draw me, if he could, to be of his mind.

Wherein, Madame, as in many other things, albeit there be good cause why I should be reasonably acquainted with mine own weakness, yet finding myself (upon the conference I had with Master Cart. and others) sufficiently armed, as I thought, to withstand a greater assault then this, I dealt plainly and roundly with Master Copinger, and did assure him for a full and flat resolution, that for mine own part I was altogether of the judgment of those godly Ministers he spake of, not that I did therein or in anything else, rely myself wholly upon men, were they never so reverend, but that I saw no warrant for those his dreams and imaginations out of the word. And now that the Lord had thus at large revealed his will unto us, even sufficient to make the man of God perfect, if mine own Father were alive and should tell me of any other revelations then that, I durst not hearken or give ear unto him, being a thing very dangerous and deceitful for any man to ground upon. And therefore if I were as you, Master Copinger (for those, I assure you, were my words unto him) I would rather suspecte this that you speak of to be some mere illusion of the Devil, then any sound revelation from God, &c. Well, saith he, Master Throk. (striking his hand upon the deske that was by me) what so ever you and others do think of the strangeness and impossibility hereof, I am out of doubt of the truth of it, being more then once, or twice, and that after many conflicts, agonies and trials, assured thereof, even by the holy ghost him self from heaven: and that the Lord him self hath appointed me, for some special work of his to his glory: In which speeches of his me thought I saw some wild and strange cast of his countenance.

Now when he saw that after all these his persuasions, protestations, and fearful imprecations, he could by no means fasten upon me any liking of these his extraordinary revelations (though he often alleged Master Knox, and some others unto me) he grew in the end to this, that there was a work to be done, for the Church, which the Lord would not have wrought by such men of great gifts as Master Egerton, Master Cart. and myself were (for so it pleased him to couple us together.) But this must be effected, forsooth, by men of base account, of no gifts, & such as are (as it were) the very abiectes of th'earth: For ever, saith he, the Lord worketh the greatest works by the weakest instruments. And hereupon it was that he began to commend and extol this Hacket unto me, as a very rare & notable man, and yet such a one as could not read a letter on the book: One that in deed had been (as he said) a vile and profane wretch in his days, but was wonderfullie altered and come home. A man that would not stick in all humility to acknowledge the sin of his former life with detestation, and was now become a convert, forsooth, and a diligent hearer of the word. To this effect (I assure you) and with many moe words then I can well utter, did he blaze out the praises of this new prophet of his. And then, seeing some others come up to me about business, he snatched up his papers, and thrusting them into his bosom, he took his leave for that time.

But you must understand, Madame, that before this conference of ours, he wrote unto me, and finding belike that my answer was not to his satisfaction, he found this means to steal upon me, as I have described. His letter was to the very same effect as his speeches were, to wit: That he hoped to live to do some service to the Church of God. That what so ever persuasions men used unto him to desist and break off his course, yet he had no cause to be discouraged, because he had his warrant from heaven: Further, that with the Lord the greatest works were ever brought to pass by the weakest instruments, &c.

Implying & enforcing still that this Hacket, forsooth (whom all this while I never saw nor heard of, but by Copingers report) must be the man that must do the seat, because he was a weak one and unlearned.

Unto this letter of his (purposely to advise him to beware what he did, and to look before he leapt) I wrote him that answer which they have now in their hands, and which Master Copinger kept in his bosom among other papers, even the same that desperate Master Sutcliffe, and the Pretended conspiracy, have thus printed and published by patches and pieces, with so many &c. I muse they would not publish it altogether, as it was, vnmangled, It had sure been a great deal fairer play, especially in a cause that concerns (as is pretended) a man's life, credit and good name. I thank God, Madame, if they do not add or enlarge, or if they do not curtaile it, clippe it, enterline it, and transform it, I do not fear the view of that letter to be presented at any time, before the Lord's, and myself to be censured and punished, as they in their wisdoms shall think my oversight that way to deserve. For unless I greatly deceive myself, the very shreades of that letter, which they have thus dismembered, renting one clause from another, yea, and, by their leave, altering and ouerstrayninge some words too, do notwithstanding (if they be rightly weighed) sufficienlie clear me in th'eyes of all impartial and indifferent minded men. And yet it may be they know that the whole letter would have cleared the suspicion much more, Therefore utterly to suppress that which would clear a Puritan most was for them the wisest though peradventure not the conscionablest course.

It may be (and it is like enough if they have all his papers) that they have also another short letter of mine in answer to another of Master Copingers, who writing unto me thus: Deare brother, I hope, ere it be long, you shall see an alteration: I answered him even under the same letter, both in one paper thus: Such an alteration as would breed a reformation and not a confusion, I would be hartilie glad of, and I do daily pray for. Seeing they are so full of their printing, I would wish they had been so kind-hearted to have printed this too.

Now that your Honor may the better judge, whether I be herein injured or no, or whether it be upon the spleen (as it were) without cause, that I do thus complain, It may please you a little to consider with me of these few particulars ensuing.

First, whereas Master Copinger in his letter seemed to be sorry that I should be one of those that did condemn his course, and I assured him that as I was not over hasty to condemn him in a matter that I knew not of, nor had any acquaintance with, but only heard of at the second hand, as it were, by certain buzzes & flying reports abroad, &c. All that former part of my letter, & those words that make so manifestly and apparauntlie for my clearing, and wherein I do utterly disavowe all knowledge and acquaintance with those courses of his (because they would so fain have me seem guilty) is quite left out & suppressed: not a word of that I warrant you.

Then whereas the whole drift and scope of my letter is a mere disuasion of Master Copinger to go on with any sole or singular course of his own head, and that he take both his eyes in his hands, and be sure of his ground before he strive to put anything in execution: they have labored to invert all, straining and stretchinge both my words and meaning quite against the hair, as may appear by their marginal note strive to put in execution? whereby they would make the world believe (if they could) that Throk. was no disswader, but rather an encourager and egger on of Copinger, to put in execution that which before he had conceived in his brain.

And now to mende the matter, in the neck of this comes Master Su • cliffe with his vie, offering me full as hard measure as all this comes too, and thereof I make your La. the judge. For whereas in the feeling and experience of mine own weakness and wants, I dare not boast nor take upon me the name of a sanctified heart, he very kindly, I thank him, sets his brand upon me in the margin in this manner: A sanctified Puritan. The thing that I do apparantlie disavowe and renounce as not daring to boast of, it pleaseth him, in his girding manner, to vpbraied me with, as if I did arrogantlie assume it unto myself: so that you see I can escape him no way. Nay it seemeth he is so eger and sharp set to snappe and bite at me, that he will not give me leave to speak sometimes the very language of Canaan: no not as the holy Ghost him self speaketh in the Scripture, but I shall bear a blow for it. Him self knoweth (I doubt not) better then I, that it is th'usual phrase with the Hebrews to say, The first Moneth: The fifth Moneth-The seventh Moneth: The nienth Moneth. And albeit I hold it not unlawful to name and write the Monethes as we usually do, as March, April, May, &c. So yet for a man once or twice in his life to use the phrase of the holy Scripture, and say, The fifth Moneth, should not, me thinks, in equity (if it be rightly weighed) deserve so great a reproach. And I muse if Master Sutcliffe should comment upon the tenth chapter of Ezra, where it is said, That the people sat down and trembled before the Lord the twentieth day of the nienth month. And again, Th'ancient heads sat down to examine the matter, the first day of the tenth Moneth. I muse, I say, if he should comment upon this, whether he would thereupon make such a marginal gloss, as he hath done upon my poor letter, This is the new absurd Consistorian style.

Wherein yet your La. may see howe easily a wise man may overslip him self in his distemperature. For if it be true that this manner of writing, The fourth Moneth, The fifth Moneth, The eight Moneth, &c. (which is so ill taken and so scornefullie disgeasted by Master Sutcliffe ) be not only the phrase of poor Master Calvin, or Beza, or barelie a Geneuian devise (for then, I fear me, he would go nigh to tread it under his feet, and rent the record with his teeth,) but also th'usual phrase of the Bishops them selves, in the translation of their great Bibles, commanded and enjoined to be read in Churches. If this, I say, may be proved (as it is manifest and apparaunt to all that will not willfully muffle them selves) then must it needs be that he hath herein, in a sort, done him self a piece of injury, and that in leueling thus greedilie at me, he hath unadvisedly rushed upon some of his dearest friends, whom I am sure he would be loath to offend. If he say that they do but translate so, and I do write so: It will be but a silie & slender voydance of the matter. For, I hope, he will not say that his Grave fathers do either in their writing or in their trrnslation use any, Newe, absurd, Puritan or Consistorian style, which, he knows, they might easily avoied, if there were any such absurdity in the matter as he would bear us in hand, and translate for The first Moneth, March. For the seconde April, and so of the rest, if it pleased them. Therefore if Master Sutcliffe should say never so constantly, nay if he should swear unto me, that this manner of writing were absurd and Consistorianlike, he must pardon me, I could not believe it, my reason is, because the Bishops them selves do use it. And where do they use it? Even there, where I presume they would be most afraid to use any strange, absurd, or unwarrantable speech, to wit, in the holy scriptures of God, which they know are to be handled with all piety and reverence, as may most tend to th'edification of the people of God. If then it be in no sort absurd in them, no more, say I, can it be in me, seeing the very same phrase that I have used but once only in my Letter, they have used in their translation above twenty times, and yet it were heard, he knows, to coumpt them either Precisians or Disciplinarians for all that.

By this, Madame, and the rest, your La. may easily see, that I am both vncharitablie and vnchristianlie dealt with. And yet to speak indifferently, I ought not in some regard to think much of it, or take it to heart, when so reverend a man as Master Egerton is, (for whose holy prayers I do not doubt but her Majesty and the whole State doeth prosper the better) can by no means escape the stinge of their envenomed mouths.

It may be your La. hath heard howe learnedly & roundlie Master Sutcliffe did confute him of late in Pawles, even since the publishing of his last declamation, and that to his face before D. White, and others. I was not by myself, but if it be as I have heard, the speeches were so opprobrious, as I am half ashamed to set down with my pen, remembering the person against whom they were uttered. They were neither Greek nor Hebrew, nor yet scarce any congruity of good manner, but (saving your reverence, (Madame) plain Scabbe, and scurvey Jack. In which vein of kitchen rhetorike, if they would give me leave also to follow the sway of flesh and blood, me thinks I could easily without any great sweat or pains (if there were no bounds of modesty to restrain me) learn to confute the honestest man, and the greatest Clarke in Christendom.

But this is not all: For both he and the Conspiracie do dress him another way, though in words nothing so groslie, yet in weight and consequent full as bytingly as this, & that by a certain pretty conveyance or sleight of a finger called Inversio. For whereas Master Egertons persuasion to Master Copinger was (as I have heard) to this effect and in this form, to wit, That albeit he would be loath to quench the Spirit, or kill any zeal in him, especially in this cold and frosen age of ours, wherein for the most parte men had so little hunger and thirst after the word: yet he was certainly persuaded that those supposed revelations of his were nothing else but mere illusions of Satan, whose subtilitie he should in any wise beware of, least he were seduced and mislead by him, &c. Whereas, I say, his speeces were thus framed, howe doeth Master Sutcliffe and The pretended Conspiracie handle the matter? Why, even thus Madame, and I pray you mark it for your learning, because it may serve your La. for a handsome pattern to measure all the rest by. They play Hysteron proteron with him, that is, they turn the catte into the panne, setting the cart before the horse, bringing in that first which should be last, and that last which should be first, to wit, That he should wisely and circumspectlie take heed he were not mislead by the subtlety of Satan, &c. But withal (say they) the said Master Egerton concluded, that he would be loath to quench the spirit of God in him, or hinder his zeal. And why trow you was this brought in last for a conclusion, which was in deed as the preamble and first entrance into his speech? Because otherwise, it may be, it would not have wounded this Renowmed Paraphrast deep enough, nor have stuck by his ribs so long. But now martialled, as it is, in the rearward and so last in the eye, It is like enough to leave the deeper impression and remembrance in men's breasts, that certeinlie, this Egerton (though he used a little fair florishe in the beginning) was yet very unwilling that Copinger should desist and give over his course, and therefore it was that he would quench no zeal in him. And howe think you, Madame, was not this nimbly and charitably contrived against so reverend a Minister of the word.

But yet me think that which doeth exceed all the rest in weight of malice, and doeth most lay open the very sting and venom of the heart is this, that Master Sutcliffe will needs make him a misliker, and, as it were, an envier of her Majesty's Honorable, Princelike, and Roiall apparance in the beginning of the Parliament: A thing that I dare swear is far from his heart, and therefore what so ever it shall please Master Sutcliffe to say in this regard, (yea though he should herein write against him till his eyes were dim) yet I am persuaded he shall never while he lives, get any man of conscience and judgment, that knows the man, to believe it: Nay, I durst, me thinks, pawn my life upon it (and so I doubt not would many of my betters) that there is no man living under the sun, that doeth more from his heart desire the true blessedness of her Majesty, namely, that she might be beloved of God, and highly honored in th'eyes of men, then doeth Master Egerton, as may sufficiently appear, both by his daily teaching and prayers, whereof there are witnesses enough, though I should be silent. Notwithstandinge all which Master Sutcliffe (as a man that cares not what he say, so he may be biting) will prove it otherwise, you shall see, and that forsooth out of his own Letter to his brother Fenne, pag. • 9 9. For doeth he not say there, That she went thither meta polles phantasias, that is, (as he interpretes it) with great ostentation and pomp. Which words (saith he) Saint Paul useth condemning the vanity of Agrippa and Beronice. Wherein, Madame, either through his hast, or through the heat and unruliness of his passions. (for I will never attribute it to his want of judgment) he hath made us at the least two or three foul vnavoydable slips. For first, whereas he will needs have the words to be Saint Paul's, he must give us leave for once (because he is a traueler) to answer him with the sauf vostre grace Monsieur, Saint Paul, we dare warrant, hath no such words: The words in deed that he hath there quoted, are Saint Luke's. Who, I take it, was the penner of the story of th'acts and not Saint Paul. Secondly, to omit 〈◊〉 slip of Beronice (who dwells sure either in Rome or in Portugale, for in Jerusalem or in the Scripture there is none such to be found I believe) where he saith the words are used by Saint Paul in condemnation of the vanity of Agrippa, by his favor and under correction we deny that, that, we say, is but his own comment and conceit, neither are the words, as we think, used to any such end as he supposeth, to wit, to reprove and reproach the king with, but only as a bare and plain declaration and laying open of the truth of that Roiall pomp and magnificence, which is both usual and allowable in great Princes and States in their solemn assemblies. And that this is true, (if poor Master Beza, Junius, Villerius, Camerarius, and such as they be, were not of late by strange mishappe flatlie excommunicated by Master Sutcliffe for their ignorance and want of judgment) I could easily put him out of doubt. For Master Beza's words upon the place be these: Hic quidem certum est hoc nomine declarari speciosum regiae magnificentia splendorem in spectantium oculos incurrentem, &c. that is to say, Here it is manifest, that in this word phantasias is laid open unto us the beautiful glittering and glorious excellency of that Royal Magnificence, that doeth flashe, as it were, into the eyes of the beholders, &c. Further in the marginal note upon Tremellius, published, as I think, by allowance of the state, this word phantasias is thus interpreted, id est Regio apparatu, that is, in Princely preparation and furniture, which can in no sort be taken in ill sense. All which Master Beza seems to fortify and confirm by th'authority and testimony of sundry ancient and learned Greek writers, as namely, Aristotel, Hippocrates, Possidonius. And if this be so, Madame, then judge you, I pray you, who was more to blame he which simply and barelie lays down the words of the story (which the very best interpreters do take in good sense) or he that thus vnconscionablie wreasteth and wringeth them to make a man so well deserving of God's Church, seem thrice odious and hateful to the State.

All which considered, it seems more then strange to me, that Sutcliffe should be so egle-eieda censurer of other men's labors, and in the mean season, eitheir thorough th'inflamation of the stomach, or through the heat and unruliness of his affections, lay him self open to so many 〈◊〉 palpaple advantages as he doeth. I confess myself to be no match for him, neither have I any purpose to buckle with him that way, being as he is, a great deal to hot and to hard for me, and it may be, much better armed to maintain an error, then such a one as I to defend a truth. But yet as a stander-by and not as one that hath any skill to handle the weapon myself, me thinks I could easily spy a far of, where he might be caught and crossebiten, if any man of ability and judgment would vouchsafe to take him in hand. For proof whereof in the very first leaf of that invectiue preface of his to my L. Anderson, where he so strayneth and striveth to make Master Fenners and Master Cartwright's diuinite no better then heresy, You may easily discern (if you please Madame) howe the master countroller of others, hath manifestly broached us, a piece of strange and new-found divinity him self. All religions (saith he) teache that the Son is borne of the Father, which is the Characteristicall difference of that person. Can you tell what to make of this, Madame? If you cannot, no more, I believe, can he that coined it. I confess I have read in my days (and it is a parte of my faith still) That the Son was begotten of the Father before all worlds: But borne of the Father (as we in our English tongue understand it) I do not believe is to be found in any creed in the world, but only in this new Sutclivian Creed of ours. Further, I cannot but muze that 〈◊〉 being a scholar, as he is would ever suffer Difference of the Person to pass the print, without some revocation, razure, or correction, seeing it was never heard of, I trow, before now that in the Godhead, there should be any difference of the persons at all, but only a distinction. Sure if one of these Puritans had written thus, we should have had old adoo, I believe. As to that other new refined and far fette phrase of his of Characteristicall, being so pregnant and proper for the place where it is set, because I see neither divinity nor sense in it, nor am able to discern why it should come in rusteling here, unless it be only for the bare noise and sound of it, I willingly leave it to those that be of a deeper reach then myself to make somewhat of it. But one of the special things that I would wish your La. and all others to note in Master Sutcliffe is this, that among the writers of our age, you shall not lightly find a more bold, peremptory and resolute man in the world then he. For proof whereof, mark I pray you, howe of one of the worthiest and most accomplished divines of our age, and of that conference that for th'excellency of the work, is thought by the learned to be unmatchable, (as if his word, or a cast of his countenance were sufficient to change the face of the heavens, and to turn light into darkness) he giveth this slight and brazen censure, to wit, That it was long forsooth and without effect. What must such men as I look for at his hands, when such works as that is and such men as Master Reynolds is, are of no greater accompt and estimation in his eyes? But I do not think Madame, that there is any man in the world (if he be not smitten with the giddiness of the brain) that is of his judgment concerning that Conference. Neither do I see for mine own part (if the matters therein handled with the circumstances be advisedlie looked into) howe he could possibly have been shorter, but he must withal have been much darker and intricat. As to the little effect he speaks of, Ma. Sutcliffe must pardon me, I will never believe, that all that ever he hath written or can write while he lives, will ever work the like effect in the hearts of men for the confutation of popery, & the confirmation of the Princes true and lawful Supremacy, as that one work alone hath done. But, alas, Madame, howe shall we do now? Master Sutcliffe thinks not so, and where be we then? For whatsoever he avoucheth true or false, right or wrong, black or white, It is bound straight (if you mark it) with All Antiquity, All the Fathers, All Divinity: If he say it once, there must be no straggering at it, we must receive it forthwith as an oracle from his mouth, be it never so sottish: As your Honor may plainly see by this new Characteristicall sentence of his, to wit; That the Son was borne of the Father: Which is (saith he) the Characteristicall difference of that person. What can be more absurd and senseless then this? And yet 〈…〉 countenanced and guidoned as it is, with Master Sutcliffe's coulers, that is, with All Religion saith it, All Religion saith it, It must, you see, march on without an encounter, or else there will be no hoe with him.

And yet for his own sake I would this were the worst thing in him, then should never, I trow, so many innocent and guiltless have been thus vily and iniurioussie be besprinkled with the gall and vinegar of his pen, as have been of late to the triumph and rejoicing of th'adversary, and to the grief of those that love the truth. And surly, Madame, when I lay before me this deadly sting and bloody minded drift of Master Sutcliffe's (for I can call it no better) in that he would so fain have Master Cart. and Master Egerton, with so many worthy men, to be traitors & conspirators with Hacket, and Master Udall (for the pure love he bears him) honored with the gibbet, I could, me thinks, in 〈◊〉 regard (if I had any acquaintance with him) find in my heart to befriende him a little with my poor advise, if I thought he would take it well at my hands, to wit, That seeing the Revenger of th'innocent and afflicted is mighty, and able, as he knows, to grind their oppressors and backbitors into powder, he would (for all this huffing and heat of distemperature) at length yet bethink him self, and beware howe he goes on any further in his vnchristianlike vein of bytinge and bitterness, especially against such men whom their greatest adversaries (if they have not quite abandoned all modesty and shamefastness) do yet sometimes reverentlie account of: as may appear by the late political treatise of Mai. Hookers, who (though he be as much distasted with the Discipline, and, for anything I see, as strongly bewitched, and every way as deeply interested in the case of the Hierarchy, as Master Sutc. ) doeth yet in words at least (and I hope from his heart) vouchsafe to honor them and beblesse them with many reverent and brotherly terms, as Right well affected, and most religiouslie inclined minds, and such like: And yet me thinks, to speak indifferently, they should not be very well affected neither if they should be as Master Sutcliffe would have them, that is, guilty of any practice or conspiracy against her Majesty. Wherevpon, if I might, I would gladly know for my learning, what point of Cosmographie Master Sutcliffe holds this to be, namely, to press men so eagerly (as he doeth) to the defense of the cause, asking them whether they be quite spent, and have nothing to say, but must be fain (poor men) to send over to Geneva for help, and in the mean season by the verdure and venom of his pen to draw, as it were, a kind of endightment of treason and conspiracy against them, and so to put them to the jump and defense of their lives. A good round ready way to silence and refute men, I trow: As if it were wisdom or godly policy for a State to suffer traitors and conspirators either to write books, or defend anything by disputation: Yet me thinks, it were much fairer play and an evener course, a great deal, to clear them of treason first, and then to tender them the chalendge and disputation afterwards, then thus to throw out the gauntlet and chartell of defiance with one hand, and to shake the halter and show the hatchet with the other, or rather in plain terms to do what in him lieth to cut in sunder their windpipe first, and then to ask them why they whoppe not or lewre not afterward.

For this cause if I thought there were any man to be found in this age, so sober and well qualified, that might herein be a director to a man of Master Sutcliffe's constitution, I would then entreat him, that when he writes again, he would make either Master Hooker, or someone discreet man of his own side, his glass and dial or direction, for the better temperature of his pen, being enough and enough, even in conscience (if not more then enough) that he hath thus run him self out of breath allreadie: and unless he should burn a new the temple of Diana, I do not see howe he can make him self more famous then he hath done by this new emblasure of his. In which regard it is sure to somebody, I trow, that Master Hooker writes, whē he so solemnly adviseth & admonisheth men, To lay aside the gall of that bitterness wherein their minds have hitherto over abounded, and with meekness to seek the truth, &c. Yea and it seemeth by the whole course of his book, that there is no man in the world (if we may believe him) more out of love with an envenomed pen, which is the discrier of the poison of the heart, then he. And therefore if in this good counsel of his, he did not specially and particularly, and as it were, by name level at his brother Sutcliffe above others, I must needs say he was to hard and partially bound about th'eyes. For though for mine own part I be sufficiently persuaded, and my heart thoroughlie settled in the truth of the cause, notwithstanding a whole library of books should be written against it (and the more that is written in that kind, and the more disgraces that are thus maliciouslie disgorged out against the defendours thereof, the more I am confirmed) yet dare I pass this promise to Master Hooker, or to any man living of his complexion, that if among all those that have hitherto sued for reformation, he can pick me out but one that is comparable to Master Sutcliffe, in that sea of bitterness, and overflowing of the gall he speaks of, I will forth with yield him the bucklers, and pass him my recantation under seal. So 〈◊〉 shall be sure to say that which I believe Master Sutcliffe will never be able to say, 〈◊〉 , that he hath won one Disciplinarian to the faith of the Hierarchy. All which considered, I could wish that Master Sutcliffe would something recall him self while he hath time and space, and in remorse of that which is past, strike his hand upon his breast, to some blusshinge and repentance (if it might be) before the day of his visitation, remembering that one of the special things that the holy ghost marketh out as abhorred of the Lord, is, A proud heart, a lying tongue, and hands that are swifte to sheade innocent blood.

I come now again to Master Copinger, who after he had thus written unto me, and I had thus answered him as before is set down, found means to steal upon me once more at my lodging, pressing me very earnestly to be acquainted with that man (meaning Hacket ) whom he had before so highly commended unto me, redoublinge his speeches loading me with a new supply of his praises, especially of his gift in prayer beyond all that ever he heard. He told me that he was now in the town, and that he would bring me to him if I would, his lodginge was not far from Smithfield: I told him I was so troubled, and in a manner oppressed with business, that I could not be at any leisure, neither could I appoint him any time, as he would fain have had me. Well yet (saith he) do me that favor as but hear him pray once before you go out of the town. I cannot certeinlie promise you that neither (said I) but if I be at any leisure, and may convenientlie, I will, and so we parted.

But here by the way, I had like to have forgotten that which of all others is most worthy the remembrance, namely, his discourse of the first greeting and meeting betwixt him & this new Saint of his, which, to my remembrance was thus: That he hearing of th'unfeigned conversion of the man, with the simplicity of his heart, and the rare gifts that God had lent him, being a man unlearned, did write him a letter to come up: Which Hacket accomplished accordingly. As soon as they met, after some salutations, Copinger signified unto him what revelations he had had of late, howe the Lord had sundry times appeared unto him from heaven, but he could get no man hereabouts to believe him, that there was any such thing in truth, but that all was a mere illusion of Satan. No (saith Hacket) will they not believe it? But I 〈◊〉 believe it, and will prove it to them, for I myself have had revelations, and strange revelations too. Wherevpon I remember Master Copinger glaunced a little at Master Egerton and Master Cart. that they would by no means be persuaded of the truth of these things, whereas this simple man did at the first both conceive of it, give credit to it, and was ready by his own experience to justify it. And this verifies (saith he) that which I told you before, that the Lord will not have this work brought to pass by any other then by the simplest and weakest. And then he told me howe that upon these speeches of Hacket, he burning in desire to know what those revelations of his were, pressed him very earnestly to tell him. But Hacket, seeing him so sharp set, to give him, as it were, the keener edge, and the greater longing, did purposely (as it should seem) keep him fasting, and held of telling him, that there was a time for all things, he had not now long to stay in the town, but he should know more shortly, for the present let this suffice him, That there were many strange practices and wonderful treasons a brewing against the Queen.

Heerevpon it was that Copinger, after Hacket was gone down into the Country, wrote those same letters that I before mentioned, to wit, unto her Majesty, the Countess of Warwick, and my L. Treasurer, from whom having received that answer that I have here set down, namely, That he should bring with him some grounded matter to work upon, he writes me again in all post haste to his new prophet, willing him to come up, with all possible speed, for he had broken the ye, forsooth, now was the time or never. Wherevpon Haket came up, and was by his means (as he told me) brought before my Lo. Treasurer. In whose presence he so behaved him self, falling flat on his face, groveling, groaning, and foaming at the mouth, that my L. seeing him, should say: What hath Copinger brought me, a mad man here? My Lord (said he) thought he had been mad, whereas he, no doubt, was inwardly ravished in soul, and wrapped up into the third heaven as Paul was: whereat smiling w •• h myself, I asked him what became in the mean season of all those great treasons and practices that were thus extraordinarilie revealed unto Hacket, and he upon Hackets word, had thus ventured to make known to those great personages. I looked (said I) that upon this appearance before my Lo. Treasurer, we should have heard news of them. He told me, that if they could have obtained that they hoped for, namely a warrant & commission to search and bolt out the truth of things, we should have heard more ere this, being persuaded in his soul, that it would have fallen out, to have been one of the best services that ever was undertaken for the Lande. Wherevpon when I told him that it seemed strange unto me, that a man should take in hand to waken th'ears of great Counselors with I know not what noise of complottes & conspiracies first, and then to sue for a commission to inquire afterwards: He choked me straight with his old common place of Extraordinarie, Extraordinarie, telling me that we were not to draw presidents of those things whereof there was no rule: whereunto I replied, that though their supposed revelations were (as they said) Extraordinary, yet the commission to inquire, that they would so fain have had, was Ordinary: and therefore I mused that such extraordinary men as they, would fly to such common and ordinary helps. Well (saith he) it may be you shall hear more when the time comes. And so he departed.

After this, having been to seek Master D. Chippingdale, Copinger meets me by chance in Pawles Chaine, and taking me by the arm, whispered me in th'ear, tellinge me that the man he spake to me of, was now hard by, removed from his old lodging into Knightrider street. I told him I had much business, he said I should not stay, but only see the man, & judge of his gift in prayer, if I would, which he knew I would admire. Upon his importunacie (I speak it not Madame, in any great praise of myself, because having such warning as I had, I might have been better advised) yet thinking it strange that a man, not able to read, should have such an extraordinary gift as he spake of (though upon the former taste of Master Copingers poor judgment, I did partly fear before hand, what I should find) I went, I confess, with him. And this was the first & the last time that ever I saw Hacket in my life. And to speak the truth, this very once was enough to distaste any man of never so mean judgment, I believe, unless he were bewitched, because the very puffing and sweilinge of his face, the staring and gogling of his eyes, with his gahstlie countenance, did, me thought, sufficiently decipher out unto me, what was in the man, at the first sight. And here also at this time I found Arthington, whom to my remembrance I never saw above once before in my life. But conference I never had any with him, as he him self best knows, who is yet living to witness whether I lie or no. When I was come up to the chamber, Copinger told Hacket that the Gentleman could not stay, and therefore desired him he might be partaker of his prayer. Wherevppon Hacket clapping to the door, fell without anymore ado, to his prayer, even (for all the world) as a man should have fallen to his sword and buckler.

But if I shall not lie unto you, Madame, such a piece of prayers did no man living, I think, ever hear. It was much like the wildegoose chase, neither head nor foot, rime nor reason. In steed of desiring God to be present with us, he desired him to be absent from us, and so, for any thing I know, he was, unless it were in his hand of judgment to punish us: for concerning any blessing to befall us, sure I am, he was not present with us, at that time. Many strange stops and pawses he had in his prayer • , and that a preatie while together, saying nothing but only groaned & murmured to him self, and then he would suddainlie burst out into some passionate outcry and exclamation against those wicked Haman's and Traitors to God and the Queen, for that was a great word with him. As to his manner and gesture, it was, me thought, full as strange as the prayer itself, speaking sometimes in a kind of low and base voice, and sometimes again in so high a voice, that I think he might easily have been heard into the streets: yet were the most of his words uttered with much earnestness and fervency, with puffinges and bearinges in a kind of snatching manner, as if he had been half windlesse, and out of breath. And howsoever other men judge of him, I must confess I have lived to see him a kind of prophet in deed in the right success and event that his prayer had. For as execrations and imprecations were usual with him, so I remember this sweet sentence among the rest, O Lord thou knowest, thou hast revealed sundry things to me, which thou hast kept back from the mighty enes of the world, and if this be not true, let thy vengeance and visible confusion fall upon me. This I say, I expressly noted. And having lived to see that I have done, namely, such a sensible hand of God upon him, in giving him over to ende his days in that most shameful and desperate manner as he did, with so many horrible blasphemies without repentance. Who can deny but that Hacket was a right reader of destinies, and concerning him self a prophet? While he was in his prayer, Copinger and Arthington did bestow the most of the time in a strange kind of sighing, humming and groaning, & that many times very loud. When his prayer was done, which to me was a great deal to long, unless it had been more savorie (and to tell you the very truth, Madame, I sat, me thought, upon thorns, and was not quiet in myself, till I was out of the chamber, fearing, when I heard him thunder and curse in that manner, least the floor should have fall̄ on our heads) I told them I had hasty business, and so took my leave & gladd in my heart that I was gone. I remember Hackets last words to me at my farewell, were these, I should hear more shortly, and so in deed I did. For the next news I heard, was, that they were up in a cart in Cheape-side, and so were apprehended, and their great Mahomet brought to that end, as all men know, and he best deserved.

Now when I was come my way from hearing this man of the rare gift, Master Copinger followed me, and bringing me a little a long the street, he iogged me on th'elbow, and asked me in mine ear, what I thought of the man's gift, & whether he were not an excellent fellow: I told him, I mused what should move him to think so, because I saw no order at all in his prayer, but a mere confused heap of words without sap. And then I began to enter into some particulars with him, as what should be the reason, or howe it might be justified, that a man should dare to offer up his prayers to God without any acknowledgement of his sin and unworthiness, as at that time Hacket never did, neither in general nor in particular. Again, I asked him what warrant any man had to use any of those imprecations and bitter curssinges of him self in his prayer, whereof there was neither rule nor warrant in the whole Scripture of God. Unto all which his answer was still one and the same, not unlike to the rest of his resolutions: Oh (saith he) you must consider it is extraordinary, extraordinary: And I am verily persuaded, Master Throkmorton, that as John the Baptist was the fore-runner of our Savior in the fleashe: So this man is the very fore-runner of our Savior in judgment. At which words of his, I confess, I was something amazed, and looking upon him (remembering Master Cartwright's former speeches unto me) I could not but pity the man, with this resolution, never to come at him again, nor any of his confederates (if I could avoid them) while I lived. And thus parted Master Copinger and I, being the last time that ever I saw him: who, as far as I conjecture, returned back again at that very instant to Hacket, because I saw him bend that way.

Not long after this I went to Enfielde to visit my cousin Middlemore, that then was very ill, unto whom I reported at large the truth of the whole, as I have here set down, and howe at Master Copingers earnest entreaty I heard Hacket pray, and of the manner of his prayer, &c. And I remember his words, and shall do while I live, to wit, That he feared he would come to some ill ende, which he gathered by those bitter cursinges and execrations that were so usual with him.

Now when I came back again to London, I found this short letter at my lodginge, which Ma. Copinger wrote unto me from Knightrider street, and which Master Sutcliffe (I thank him) hath taken the pains to print and reprint, to wit, That much hath been done since they saw me, which I would rejoice to hear of, That they desire conference with me, That the business is the Lord's own, That some of the enemies of God began to be hottely pursued by Satan, &c. For so was it in my letter, though in their printed copy it be pursued by God, &c. That I received such a letter I deny not, but you must understand, Madame, that they had been preaching in the cart, and were apprehended before this letter came to my hands. But what could I do withal, if Master Copinger did write thus unto me? It is known he did write letters to other manner of men then I. I confess, he did wonderfullie seek me, and labor to have drawn me to the bent of his bow. And albeit I may truly say that his insensible persuasions had never any taste or relish in my breast, neither did I ever feel so much as any inclination to be drawn away by him, yet do I not, nor dare I not attribute the least parte of this resistance to mine own strength, because the Lord might justly have given me over to a weaker assault then this, if it had pleased him. But what will Master Sutcliffe make of this? Copinger wrote unto me twice or thrice. True, I deny it not, and good leave have he to make his advantage of it, let him hardly press it and strain it to th'uttermost, it shall not offend me. What then? Why then, forsooth he concludeth, that Throk, is not only an accessory and a concealer of their treacherous practices, but also a principal actor in the Pagent, and deeply guilty of the conspiracy.

This halting consequent I leave to be refuted by Master Sutcliffe him self, when he is sober and not all out so distempered as it may be he was when he wrote the book. He knows well enough it were great pity that all they that wrote and received letters from Copinger, or had any conference with him, or any view of Hacket, should forthwith be reputed traitors and conspirators for that. For the rest I would Master Sutcliffe knew, that I hold it not only lawful but even my bounden duty to reveal any practice or treason intended against my Soveraine, and that of conscience, if there were no law to bind me too it but the law of God. Of which sin, I hope, I may without offense plead guiltless, not only before men, but (for anything I know) before the tribunal seat of Christ.

And if probable collections be in th'eyes of indifferent Judges of as great force for a man's clearing and defense as they are for a man's guiltiness and condemnation, then mine innocence, I hope (though it be never so much shot at by the darts of envenomed mouths) shall yet by God's assistance, escape untouched and vnbleamished in the ende.

If any man should demand (saith Arthington) why I did not discover Hackets intended villainous practices against the Queen and the State, seeing he was known to be a sorcerer, and condemned for high treason against her Majesty truly, as I mean to be saved at the last day, both these matters were unknown to me so long as he lived, and to Master Copinger too, as I think. Neither was I ever any farther acquainted with any visions or speeches touching these matters, then as before in substance is declared, &c. Therefore as on the one side, I should deeply offend the Majesty of God, if I should conceal any danger intended against her Majesty (falling within the compass of my knowledge:) So should I displease the Lord on the other side, by speaking more then a truth of any: yea were it of the Devil himself, protesting thus much in the presence of God, that if I were privy to one evil word spoken against her Majesty, &c.

This book of Arthingtons, Madame, hath, we see, th'allowance and approbation of the State: And if he that was one of the three, naming him self the prophet of judgment, so many times conversant with Hacket, as well in prayer as in conference, be thus publikelie cleared by his protestation, and that taken and accepted of for payement, It goeth hard, me thinks, that another man, that never saw Hacket but once in his life, that wrote and labored to Master Copinger to desist, as one altogether distasted with his courses, should not have the same liberty to pawn his protestation for his defense.

If then Master Sutcliffe, or any of his humor do ask of Job Throk. why he did nor reveal the treasons & practices of Hacket and his accomplices, he answereth in a word (and that with protestation before the Lord of heaven and earth) Because he knew not of any, neither ever heard so much as the least noise or sound of any, And that Master Sutcliffe him self (for anything he knows) was full as guilty, and every way as accessory to those conspiracies 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 as he.

If it be demanded further, why he did not reveal so much as he knew, namely of their prayers, imprecations, and supposed revelations? He answereth, that the same reason that moved that honorable Countess to detain still in her hands Mai. Copingers letter unto her Majesty, without delivery, namely, that there was no ground of his information, but only his fancy, moved also Throk. not to make the Magistrate acquainted with any of those toys and fooleries, without some better ground • thinking them altogether unworthy of their presence & ears, and fearing (unless he would have foreseen into th'event aforehande) that he had been liker a great deal (for troubling their Honors with such a headless information) to have been rather returned home again as wise as he came, with some check or reproach for his folly, then with any thank or reward for his pains.

Touching Marten, whatsoever it pleaseth Ma. Sutcliffe to say, I hope those that are in Authority, & Ma. Sutcliffe's betters, are sufficiently persuaded of mine innocence that way. And seeing the gentleman hath given him self a commission to speak his pleasure of my betters, there is good reason that so mean a man as I should allow him a little to speak per Hyperbolen, or licentiâ poetica, as he doeth of Master Cart. when he chargeth him with th'execution of his brother Stubbes his will, a thing that I have heard him say he never dealt in in any sort, in all his life. And I do the rather believe it, in that in one of his books he bringeth testimony (as I remember) out of one of th'ancient Fathers, that it is either unmeet or unlawful for a Minister of the word, to be so much as an Executor, much less that he should be encumbered with any civil office. And such another like tale is that of the sale of his cotaige, and the purchase of his three or four manours: which is so apparent a slander, as I doubt not but he may be convinced by hundreds that are yet alive, and I think few of his own side so immodest to believe it. As for myself and his charge of Martinisme, if Master Sutcliffe were the man that had never told untruth in his life, I could easily in this case (if need were) make some advantage of him for my clearing & defense. For though in one of his Queres pag. 202. he lay all upon me, I thank him, Theses, Protestations, Dialogues, & all (and so to speak the truth, he may as well all as one) yet in his better mood, when it may be, he had slept better all night, he franklie cleareth me again, disburdeninge me of that charge, and letteth not to say, pag. 78. that the noble Martin was John Penry, John Udall, John Field, all John's, saith he, as for me he doeth but bring me in at the later ende as a candle holder: and no more in deed I am not, in regard of some of those Reverend men.

But because, Madame, I am to render accompt of my doings before other manner of men then Master Sutcliffe. Seeing an oth (as the Apostle saith) ought to be th'ende of all strife, I will for my final clearing herein (when so ever it shall be thought so good by the State) willingly take this oth, as I have heretofore offered, to wit, That I am not Martin, I knew not Martin, And concerning that I stand endighted of, I am as clear as the child unborn.

For the rest, that I live under a most gracious Princesse and a merciful government, I were greatly to blame, if I would not in all humbleness acknowledge: and if I have not been thankful to God for it, my sin sure hath been the greater. But what Prince and government liveth Master Sutcliffe under, trow you? If it be the same that I live under (and I hope howe far so ever he hath traueled, he hath none other) then, if I be not deceived, (unless he have some charter of privilege that I know not of) his band & recognoisance is full as great as mine, and he as deeply engaged this way as myself. And if it be true that a reverend Judge in this lande did once tell my Lo. Chancellor, that dead is, That the matter of th'indightment that passed against Throk. at Warwick, was in truth but a friuelous matter, and a thing that he would easily auoied. And if it be also true that the said Lord Chancelor (who, if I be not deceived, was able to see as far into a man as Master Sutcliffe ) did say not only privately in his house, but even to her Majesty (who caused the same to be signified unto me, that I might therein be thankful unto my Lord) and more then that, if the said Lo. Chancelor did openly in Parleament (whereof there are yet living witnesses enow) pronounce, that he knew the said Job Throkmorton to be an honest man: If all these, I say, be true, I think I may safelie conclude in defense of myself against Master Sutcliffe, the Pretended Conspiracie, and all others, that this sparinge course that hath been hitherto held with me, hath rather (to speak the truth) been a course of Justice, thē a course of mercy, And that if all things be rightly considered, it is a far greater mercy & patience to suster Ma. Sutcliffe and such as he is, thus shamefully to traduce whole Churches and to set his colebrand of infamy upon the most reverend men that ever wrote, then to suffer Job Throkmorton, to go in peace. Who so long as he hath his own innocence and vnguiltinesse for his clearinge, maketh no doubt (notwithstanding all this racking, wreasting and libelling against him) but he shall have always the laws of God and her Majesty for his sufficient shelter and defense.

Thus Madame have I endeavored myself in that measure I could, to satisfy your earnest request, wherein what other defectes so ever there be, I would be loath, there should be found any untruth: if your Honor think good to make it known abroad to others, I am not against it: Seeing my defacing hath been public, I hope no man will blame me, if I desire that my clearing might also be public. The blot and bleamish of my good name, hath been, as you see, publicly spread and proclaimed, as it were, over the whole lande, and myself no less wounded then in capite, that is in my allegiance to my Prince, and I by this their wreasting, curtayling, and implying, made little better then a traitor and conspiratour in th'eyes of the world. A thing that, if I remember myself well, ought, no doubt, to humble me and pull me down (if it were possible) to the very center of th'earth. In which regard when I look back to the sins of my former life, I must needs acknowledge it to be just with God, howe so ever it be unrighteous with men. I know right well, Madame, what the Prophet David did in like case, who when he was reviled and railed upon by Shimei, did neither frette at this nor at that, as commonly men do, nor yet look upon the person or vileness of the man, with any frowning aspect or revengeful countenance, but on the contrary did forthwith cast his eyes 〈◊〉 to heaven, acknowledging it to be the hand of the great God, and to be his doing: He curseth, saith he, even because the Lord hath bidden him curse David, &c. I confess, Madame, I ought to be thus affected too, if I were as I should be: But fallinge short of this, my only desire (if it might be) for all the malice I bear to Master Sutcliffe is this, that in this case I might be credited, and he not. And I think, Madame, I have reason to desire it. In deed if I came to appeach or accuse, there were some reason for a person of your place to make a pause, and not to be ouerswift in lendinge an 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 ear unto me. But coming as I do, in defense of th'innocent, & to save the guiltless from obloquy & slander, me thinks I may by all laws Heathen and Christian (and that without offense) challenge as it were a day of favorable hearing & credence before mine adversary.

I remember the fellons and malefactors standing at the bar, one of the last things that the Judge doeth ask of them before he proceed to sentence is this: What hast thou to say for thyself, why thou mayest not have judgment, &c. I could wish Madame, and my humble suit unto your Honor, and to all others that shall read these printed accusations against me, is, that ye would in this case play still th'upright Judges with me, and afoord me but that favor, which is not denied, you see, to very thieves and felons at the bar, namely, that ye would not pass any resolute sentence of credit or condemnation against me, before you have made inquiry, What Throkmorton can say for him self, why he may not be reputed a Traytour and Conspiratour as well as Hacket. And if I may be but thus charitably dealt with, that is, if none of these slanders may make any impression against me in the breasts and conceits of men, before I be duelie and patiently heard what I can say for myself, assure yourself, Madame, I will never crave a Psalm of Miserere for my deliverance while I live. But rather, if I be asked what I have to say for myself, I will by God's grace, say, even as I have said, and is here already laid down to your La. in all plainness, and truth, which I hope is sufficient to clear me in the face of any righteous Judge under heaven.

Th'issue therefore of the whole is this, that when things have been never so much wrenched and writhed, yea and as it were strangelie tenter stretched against me, to bring me not only in disgrace, but in question of my life: Yet if ever it be proved, Madame, by any act, witness, or record under the sun, that Throk. was any ways accessory, weeting, privy or consenting to any of those vile practices of Hacket, and his accomplices: Nay more, not only in this, but in any other action, attempt or consultation whatsoever, if, I say, it may be proved that ever he had any hand in any ungodly practice against his dread Souueraigne, from the beginning of the world to this day, he craveth none other favor, then to be made a public spectacle, and a notable example of justice to all posterity. Nay he saith further in his own clearing and defense, that if his very heart were arraigned in the presence of God and men, he may safelie protest, that he is so far from being guilty of that wherewith he is thus wrongfully and iniuriouslie slandered, that he is not privy to himself of so much as any felonious or deloiall thought of her Majesty. If he be, let him not die the death of the righteous.