religion treason, then am I guilty. As for other treason, I never committed any: God is my judge.” He spoke of the names which he had been hoodwinked into confessing, and protested that all the “secrets” held back were spiritual confidences, and that there were no “secrets” of another nature between his hosts and him; he also put in a plea for one Richardson, imprisoned on account of the _Decem Rationes_, whereas he knew nothing whatever of that book. He then tried to pray. But a school-master with lungs, named Hearne, hastily stepped forward and read a novel proclamation, first and last of its kind, declaring in the Queen’s name that these men about to be executed were perishing not for religion but for treason. Diligent reassertion, in those days, seems to have established anything as a fact! The lords and sheriffs present reverted to “the bloody question”: what did Master Campion think of the Bull of Pius Quintus and the excommunication of the Queen? and would he renounce the Pope of Rome? He answered wearily that he was a Catholic. One voice shouted: “In your Catholicism all treason is contained!” A minister came forward to bid the martyr pray with him, but with marked gentleness was denied his will. “You and I are not one in religion: wherefore, I pray you, content yourself. I bar none of prayer, but I only desire them of the Household of Faith to pray with me, and in mine agony to say one Creed.” The Creed was chosen “to signify that he died for the confession of the Catholic and Apostolic Faith.” He endeavoured again to pray, probably using aloud the words of some of the Vulgate Psalms or ritual hymns, when a spectator called out angrily to him to pursue his devotions in English. “I will pray unto God,” answered Campion, with all himself in the answer, “in a language which we both well understand!” He was again interrupted, and ordered to ask forgiveness of the Queen, and to pray for her. But his sweetness and patience held out till the last. “Wherein have I offended her? In this am I innocent: this is my last speech: in this give me credit. I have and do pray for her.” “Pray you for Queen—Elizabeth?” was the insinuating query, made often, and answered often, as here. Campion said: “Yea, for Elizabeth, your Queen and my Queen, unto whom I wish a long, quiet reign, with all prosperity.” He had barely finished this emphatic sentence when the cart was drawn away. The multitude with one accord swayed and groaned. Somebody in authority (one account names the Chamberlain of the Royal Household, Lord Howard of Effingham) mercifully forbade the hangman to cut the rope until he was quite dead. That other rope with which Campion was bound Parsons managed to buy, and he had it laid about his own neck when he came to die, in 1610. It is now at Stonyhurst: a thin, frayed old cord some twelve feet long.