Chief Justice Wray presided, a Catholic at heart, and wretched ever after over this unwilling day’s work. The prosecuting officers for the Crown were the Queen’s serjeant, Edmund Anderson; Popham, afterwards Chief Justice; and Egerton, afterwards the first Lord Ellesmere. The chief witnesses were George Eliot, Anthony Munday, and two creatures named Sledd and Caddy: probably as evil a quartette as existed in contemporary England, and worthy forerunners of Oates and Bedloe. “They had nothing left to swear by,” as Campion reminded the jury: “neither religion nor honesty.” In no special order, but with much ardour and diligence, all the old tiresome trivial accusations were brought forward and pressed in, Campion being spokesman throughout for the defence, and his alert mind, despite his weakened body, meeting them all, and routing them. He was charged with having “seduced the Queen’s subjects from their allegiance” ... and “reconciled them to the Pope.” He caught up the word. “We ‘reconcile’ them to the Pope! Nay, then, what reconciliation can there be to him, since reconciliation is only due to God? This word [‘reconcile’] soundeth not to a lawyer’s usage, and therefore is wrested against us inaptly. The reconciliation that we endeavoured was only to God: as Peter saith, _reconciliamini Domino_, be ye reconciled unto the Lord.” Campion was informed: “Yourself came as Procurator from the Pope and Dr. Allen, to break these matters to the English Papists.” So he rejoined that in his homeward voyage from Rome, undertaken by his vow of obedience as a Jesuit, “the which accordingly I enterprised, being commanded thereto,” he had “dined with Dr. Allen at Rheims, with whom also after dinner I walked in his garden ... and not one jot of our talk glanced to the Crown or State of England.... As to the [Pope], he flatly with charge and commandment excused me from matters of State and regiment.” ... Followed a change of tactics. “Afterclaps make those excuses but shadows.... For what meaning had that changing of your name? Whereto belonged your disguising in apparel? What pleasure had you to royst it [in] a velvet hat and a feather, a buff leather jerkin, and velvet venetians?... Can that beseem a professed man of religion which hardly becometh a layman of gravity? No: there was a further matter intended.... Had you come hither for love of your country, you would never have wrought a hugger-mugger; had your intent been to have done well, you would never have hated the light.” To which Campion replied that St. Paul, in order “that living he might benefit the Church more than dying,” betook himself “to sundry shifts ... but that especially the changing of his name was very oft and familiar” ... and that “he sometimes thought it expedient to be hidden, lest, being discovered, persecution should ensue thereby, and the gospel be greatly forestalled.... If these shifts were then approved in Paul, why are they now reproved in me?—he an Apostle, I a Jesuit ...