"_Doctor._ But what's this? A paper 'tis; if I be not mistaken, a Star-Chamber order made against Mr. Prinne, Mr. Burton, and Dr. Bastwicke. Had you any hand in this? "_Canterbury._ I had. I had. All England knoweth it. But, oh, here comes up something that makes my very back ake! O that it were up once! Now it is up, I thank Heaven! "_Doctor._ 'Tis a great bundle of papers, of presentations and suspensions. These were the instruments, my lord, wherewith you created the tongue-tied Doctors, and gave them great Benefices in the Country to preach some twice a year at the least, and in their place to hire some journeyman Curate, who will only read a Sermon in the forenoone, and in the afternoone be drunke, with his parishioners for company." By the same painful process the archbishop is delivered of his "Book of Canons," and finally of his mitre; upon which the doctor says, "Nay, if the miter be come, the Divell is not far off. Farewell, my good lord." There still exist in various collections more than a hundred prints relating directly to Archbishop Laud, several of which give burlesque representations of his execution. There are some that show him asleep, and visited by the ghosts of those whom he had persecuted, each addressing him in turn, as the victims of Richard III. spoke to their destroyer on Bosworth Field. One of the print-makers, however, relented at the spectacle of an old man, seventy-two years of age, brought to the block. He exhibits the archbishop speaking to the crowd from the scaffold: "Lend me but one poore teare, when thow do'st see This wretched portraict of just miserie. I was Great Innovator, Tyran, Foe To Church and State; all Times shall call me so. But since I'm Thunder-stricken to the Ground, Learn how to stand: insult not ore my wound." This one poor stanza alone among the popular utterances of the time shows that any soul in England was touched by the cruel fanatic's bloody end. [Illustration: "England's Wolfe with Eagle's Clawes" (Prince Rupert), 1647.]