She was the only child of Charles Stuart, fifth earl of Lennox, (uncle to James the First, and great-grandson to Henry VII.) by Elizabeth, daughter of sir William Cavendish, of Hardwick; was born about the year 1578, and brought up in privacy under the care of her grandmother, the old countess of Lennox, who had for many years resided in England. Her double relation to royalty was equally obnoxious to the jealousy of Elizabeth and the timidity of James, and they secretly dreaded the supposed danger of her leaving a legitimate offspring. The former, therefore, prevented her from marrying Esme Stuart, her kinsman, and heir to the titles and estates of her family, and afterwards imprisoned her for listening to some overtures from the son of the earl of Northumberland: the latter, by obliging her to reject many splendid offers of marriage, unwarily encouraged the hopes of inferior pretenders. Thus circumscribed, she renewed a childish connection with William Seymour, grandson to the earl of Hertford, which was discovered in 1609; when both parties were summoned to appear before the privy council, and received a severe reprimand. This mode of proceeding produced the very consequence which James meant to avoid; for the lady, sensible that her reputation had been wounded by this inquiry, was in a manner forced into a marriage; which becoming publicly known in the course of the next spring, she was committed to close custody in the house of sir Thomas Parry, at Lambeth, and Mr. Seymour to the Tower. In this state of separation, however, they concerted means for an escape, which both effected on the same day, June 3, 1611; and Mr. Seymour got safely to Flanders: but the poor lady was re-taken in Calais road, and imprisoned in the Tower; where the sense of these undeserved oppressions operating too severely on her high spirit, she became a lunatic, and languished in that wretched state, augmented by the horrors of a prison, till her death on the 27th Sept. 1615.[55] ON THE LADY ARABELLA. How do I thanke thee, Death, and blesse thy power That I have past the guard, and scaped the Tower! And now my _pardon_ is my _epitaph_, And a small coffin my poore carkasse hath. For at thy charge both soule and body were Enlarged at last, secured from hope and feare; That among saints, this amongst kings is laid, And what my birth did claim, my death hath paid. UPON MISTRIS MALLET[56], AN UNHANDSOME GENTLEWOMAN, WHO MADE LOVE UNTO HIM.