"I do therefore most humblie beseich my soverayne Lord not to beleve any of thos, in my particuler, who under pretence of offences to kings, doe easily work their particuler revenges. I trust that no man (under the culler of making examples) shall perswade your Majesty to leve the word 'mercifull' out of your stile; for it will noe less profite your Majesty; and becume your gretnes, than the word 'invincibell'.... I do therefore, on the knees of my hart, beseich your Majesty to take councell from your own sweet and mercifull disposition and to remember that I have loved your Majesty now twenty yeares for which your Majestie hath yett geven me no reward. And it is fitter that I should be indebted to my soverayne Lord, then the King to his poore vassall. Save me, therefore, most mercifull Prince, that I may owe your Majesty my life itt sealf; then which ther cannot be a greter dett. Lend it me att lest, my soverayne Lord that I may pay it agayne for your service when your Majesty shall pleas." Slowly time passed, and little by little all hope of reprieve died in him. The spirit of life was, as it were, appeased at this his effort--this supplication--and allowed him rest. He wrote farewell to his wife. "You shall receave, dear wief, my last words in these my last lynes. My love I send you, that you may keepe it when I am dead; and my councell, that you may remember it when I am noe more. I would not with my last will present you with sorrowes, deare Bess. Lett them goe to the grave with and be buried in the dust. And seeing it is not the will of God that ever I shall see you in this lief, beare my destruccion gentlie, and with a hart like yourself. "First I send you all the thanks my hart cann conceive, or my penn expresse, for your many troubles and cares taken for me, which--though they may have not taken effect as you wished--yet my debt is to you never the lesse; and paye it I never shall in this world. "Secondlie, I beseich you, for the love you beare me living, that you doe not hide yourself many dayes, but by your travell seeke to help your miserable fortunes and the right of your poore childe. Your mourning cannot avayle me that am but dust.... "To what frind to direct thee I knowe not, for all mine have left mee in the true tyme of triall: and I plainly perceive that my death was determyned from the first day.... But God hath prevented all my determinations; the great God that worketh all in all. If you can live free from want, care for no more; for the rest is but vanity. Love God and beginne betymes to repose yourself on Him; therein shall you find true and lastinge ritches, and endles comfort. For the rest when you have travelled and wearied your thoughts on all sorts of worldly cogitacions, you shall sit downe by Sorrow in the end....