Sir,--I had not trobl’d You wit. ys. my poore Hand, weare itt not for ye mornfull Accident yt. ’tis fitter forr mee yn. for an Other to mak knowen too You. Yr. honred. Father, Syr _Harry Carrlion_, is no moer, hauing departed out of ys. Lyfe ye 10th Daie of ys. last Moneth. Wee being wth. him continuelly had observ’d a grate Chaunge in hys Condicons of late, noting yt. hee was become strangely gentle & quiett, sighg. often too Hym Selfe in his slow Walkyng in ye Garrden on his Crotches. Allsoe since yr. Letters was arriv’d, yt. weare wrote at _St Thomas_, it seem’d too us yt. Sirr _Harry_ did desire to write to You, getting out oftimes Penn & Paper, & prepareg. too beginn, bot nevr. beginning. And I asking if it shd. pleas hym yt. I writ forr hym, hee saith No, for yt. he shd. see You before Long. And ys. Asssurc. growing vpon Him, he was wont to spend moch Tyme in ye Arbour at ye End of ye Fir Walke, yt. lookes over ye Rode, watching agst. Your Comming. Being becom at last soe feable as he myght not leaue ye House, he satt all Day beside ye Windowe lookyng on ye Aproch, saying yt. he beleeu’d You was coming. Yn. alsoe, wn. he was seis’d wit. a Retorn of yt. old Disorder yt. had plag’d hym in his Campayns of _Germany_, he desir’d mee to sett open ye Dore of ye Chambre, soe yt. hee might heere You mountg. ye Staires. And I, seeing yt. he was not long for ys. Werld, did ask of hym some Message for You, for Feare least You shd. not be in Time to see hym. And hee, giuing mee his Blessing most swetely & fatherly, dyd sende ye same to You allso, bidding You (said he), bee a brave & honrable Man, & shew yr. Silf worthie.… Now on ye last Daie of his Lyfe, hee wander’d sore in his Mynde, spekyng as if too ye late Kynge & to Others yt. bee now dead. Bot at last, sitting upp & speaking veray loud & strong, “_Nedd_ is com,” saith he; “I heare hym on ye Staire.” And wee, looking yt. Way yt. he pointed, sawe no One, bot returning too hym, found him falln back deade, all ye Chambre & Bedd being still hong wit. Blacke, as alwaies since yr. Moder dy’d. For Consolacon, Sir, wt. can I offer You in ye Losse of soch a Part., bot too remember yt. hee departed full of ye greatest Lov & Kindness toward You, & is now, without Doubt, tho’ abst. from Us, yet happily prest. wit. yr. dere Mother & all ye Blest? You haue ye Praiers of yr. poore Cosin in ys. sadd Afflicktion. Understand mee, Sir, to remayn yr. faithfull Servt., D. Brandon.