But Ralegh's possession of Sherborne was temporary and uncertain. He tried to save it entirely from the ruin of his fortune, that his wife and children might have a place in which to live. On this subject he writes continually to Cecil and Lord Cranborne. Sorrow sat by him as he wrote, and for long and long he could not resign himself to the prospect of captivity. "If I had a pardon, I may notwithstanding be restraynd or confined. If I may not be here about London (which God caste my sowle into hell if I desire, but to do your Lordship some kind of service) I shalbe most contented to be confined within the Hundred of Sherburn; or if I cannot be allowed so much I shalbe contented to live in Holland, wher, I shall perchance gett some imployment uppon the Indies, or else, if I be apoyncted to any bishope or other gentelman or nobelman, or that your Lordship would lett me keep but a park of yours--which I will buy from some one that hath it--your Lordship shalbe sure that I will never break the order which you shall pleas to undertake for me. And, if I bee any wher nire yow, yow shall find that in sume kind or other I shall do your Lordship service. For God douth know that if I cannot go to the Bathe this fall I am undun, for my health; and shalbe dead, or disabled for ever." He wrote to Viscount Cranborne, imploring his aid to preserve this remnant of his fortune. "That life which cann be of no use to others and is now also weery of mee, at parting putts mee in mind of thos whom Nature and Charetie commands me not to neglect--a wife and a childe, and a wife with childe, whom, God knowes, have nothing else to inherite then my shame and ther own misery. How to healp it or to whom to complain, I know not, whose fortune is over darck for the reason of the world to peirce.... And while I know that the best of men are but the spoyles of Tyme and certayne images wherwith childish Fortune useth to play--kisse them to-day and break them to-morrow--and therefore can lament in my sealf but a common destiney, yet the pitifull estate of thos who are altogether healpless and who dayly wound my sowle with the memory of their miseries, force mee in despite of all resolvednesse, bothe to bewayle them and labor for them.... For my own tyme, good my Lord consider that it cannot be calde a life, but only misery drawne out and spoone into a long thride without all hope of other end then Death shall provide for mee; who without the healp of kings or frinds, will deliver me out of prison."