“Then what Ive could not tell you,” resumed he, “take from me (these incidents in Underhill’s life are given almost entirely in his own words). I guessed (and rightly so) what was the cause of mine arrest; to wit, a certain ballad that I had put forth against the Papists, and for that I was a Sacramentary. Well, when I came into the Tower, where the Council sat, they were already busied with Dr Coxe and the Lord Ferrers; wherefore I was to wait. So I and my two men went to an alehouse to dinner in the Tower, and after that repaired to the Council chamber door, to be the first taken, for I desired to know my lot. Then came Secretary Bourne to the door, looking as the wolf doth for a lamb; unto whom my two keepers delivered me, and he took me in greedily. The Earl of Bedford was chief judge, next the Earl of Sussex, and Sir Richard Southwell; and on the side next me sat the Earl of Arundel and Lord Paget. By them stood Sir John Gage, the Constable, the Earl of Bath, and Mr Mason; at the board’s end stood Sergeant Morgan and Secretary Bourne. And the Lord Wentworth stood in the bay window. Then my Lord of Bedford (who was my very friend, owing unto the chance that I had to recover his son, as I told you aforetime; yet would not now seem to be familiar with me, nor called me not by my name), said,—‘Did not you set a ballad of late in print?’—I kneeled down, saying, ‘Yes, truly, my Lord; is that the cause I am called before your Honours?’—‘Marry,’ said Secretary Bourne, ‘you have one of them about you, I am sure.’—‘Nay truly, have I not,’ said I.—Then took he one out of his bosom and read it over distinctly, the Council giving diligent ear. When he had ended,—‘I trust, my Lord,’ said I, ‘I have not offended the Queen’s Majesty in the ballad, nor spoken against her title, but maintained it.’—‘You have, sir,’ said Morgan. ‘Yes, I can divide your ballad, and make a distinction in it, and so prove at the least sedition in it.’—‘Yea,’ I said, ‘you men of law will make of a matter what ye list.’—‘Lo!’ said Sir Richard Southwell, ‘how he can give a taunt! You maintain the Queen’s title with the help of an arrant heretic, Tyndale.’—‘You speak of Papists there, sir,’ said Mr Mason. ‘I pray you, how define you a Papist?’—‘Why,’ said I, ‘it is not long since you could define a Papist better than I.’ With that some of them secretly smiled, as the Lord of Bedford, Arundel, Sussex, and Paget. In great haste Sir John Gage took the matter in hand. ‘Thou callest men Papists there,’ said he; ‘who be they thou judgest to be Papists?’—‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I do name no man, nor I am not hither to accuse any, nor none I will accuse; but your Honours do know that in this controversy that hath been, some be called Papists and some Protestants.’—‘But we will know whom thou judgest to be Papists, and that we command thee upon thine allegiance to declare.’—‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I think if you look among the priests in Poules, ye shall find some old mumpsimuses there.’—‘Mumpsimuses, knave!’ saith he, ‘mumpsimuses! thou art an heretic knave!’ and sware a great oath.—Says the Earl of Bath, ‘I warrant him an heretic knave, indeed.’—‘I beseech your Honours,’ said I (speaking to the Lords that sat at the table, for these other that stood by be not now of the Council), ‘be my good Lords. I have offended no laws, and I have served the Queen’s Majesty’s father and her brother long time, and in their service have spent and consumed part of my living, never having as yet any preferment or recompense, and the rest of my fellows likewise, to our utter undoing, unless the Queen’s Highness be good unto us; and for my part I went not forth against her Majesty, notwithstanding I was commanded, nor liked those doings.’—‘No, but with your writings you will set us together by the ears,’ saith the Earl of Arundel.—‘He hath spent his living wantonly,’ saith Bourne, ‘and now saith he hath spent it in the King’s service; which I am sorry for: he is come of a worshipful house in Worcestershire.’ (Note 4)—‘It is untruly said of you,’ said I, ‘that I have spent my living wantonly. I never consumed no part thereof until I came into the King’s service, which I do not repent, nor doubted of recompense if either of my two masters had lived. I perceive you are Bourne’s son of Worcester, who was beholden unto my uncle Wynter, and therefore you have no cause to be my enemy, nor you never knew me, nor I you, before now, which is too soon.’—‘I have heard enough of you,’ said he.—‘So have I of you,’ said I, ‘how that Mr Sheldone drave you out of Worcestershire for your behaviour.’—With that came Sir Edward Hastings from the Queen in great haste, saying, ‘My Lords, you must set all things apart, and come forthwith to the Queen.’—Then said the Earl of Sussex, ‘Have this gentleman unto the Fleet, until we may talk further with him.’ (Although I was knave before of Master Gage.)—‘To the Fleet?’ saith Master Southwell, ‘have him to the Marshalsea!’—‘Have the heretic knave to Newgate!’ saith Master Gage again.—‘Call a couple of the guard here,’ saith Bourne, ‘and there shall be a letter sent to the keeper how he shall use him, for we have other manner of matters with him than these.’—‘So had ye need,’ said I, ‘or else I care not for you.’—‘Deliver him to Mr Garret, the Sheriff,’ said he, ‘and bid him send him to Newgate.’—‘My Lord (said I unto my Lord of Arundel, for that he was next me, as they were rising) I trust you will not see me thus used to be sent to Newgate; I am neither thief nor traitor.’—‘Ye are a naughty fellow,’ said he; ‘ye were alway tuting in the Duke of Northumberland’s ear, that ye were.’—‘I would he had given better ear unto me,’ said I; ‘it had not been with him then as it is now.’—Mr Hastings pushing by me (mine old adversary, with whom I had been aforetime wont to reason touching the Sacrament), I thought good to prove him, although he threatened before now.—‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I pray you speak for me that I be not sent unto Newgate, but rather unto the Fleet, which was first named. I have not offended. I am a gentleman, as you know, and one of your fellows, when you were of this band of the Pensioners.’—Very quietly he said unto me, ‘I was not at the table, Mr Underhill, and therefore I can say nothing to it.’ But I think he was not content with the place I was appointed to. Well, I count Ive told you all he saw, touching my progress to Master Sheriff, and thence to Newgate. But while I waited in the Sheriff’s house, my Lord Russell heard my voice, and showed very sorry for me; and sent me on the morrow twenty shillings, and every week as much while I was in Newgate. I count Ive told you moreover of my sickness.”
“Ay, and of the ill savours and noise that you could not abide,” said Dr Thorpe; “and of your changing of your lodging; and how Dr Record did visit you, and divers other things.”
“Then he told you all,” said Mr Underhill. “And now (for ’tis past nine of the clock) this great knave, rogue, and heretic, must be on his way home.”
Mr Underhill left behind him a new ballad which he had lately published. Since it probably does not exist in print now, it shall be subjoined, and in the orthography of its author.
“Love God above all thyngs, and thy neyghboure as thy selffe;
Thatt this is Crist’s doctryne, no mane cane it denye;
Wyche litle is regarded in Yngland’s common wealthe,
Wherefore greate plags att hande be, the realme for to distroye.
“‘Do as thow woldest be done unto,’ no place here he cane have,
Off all he is remised, no mane wyll hym reseave;
Butt pryvate wealthe, thatt cursed wreche, and most vyle slave,
Over all he is imbraced, and ffast to hym they cleave.
“He thatt hathe this world’s goode, and seeth his neyghboure lake,
And off hym hathe no compassyone, nor showithe hym no love,
Nor relevithe his nesessite, butt suffers hym go to wrake,
God dwellithe nott in thatt mane, the Scriptures playnely prove.
“Example we have by Dyves, thatt dayntilye dide fare,
In worldely wealthe and ryches therein he dide excell,
Off poore Lazarous’ mesery he hadde theroff no care,
Therfore was sodenly taken and tormentide in Hell.”
(See Note 5 for explanations.)
Ten quiet days followed. For many a month afterwards, quietness was only to be remembered as a lost luxury.
“Have you the news?” inquired Mr Underhill, suddenly opening Avery’s door, and coming in hastily.
“I have heard you put that question five-and-twenty times,” responded Dr Thorpe.
“Well!” he answered, “you may hear it yet again so many. There is like to be some trouble.”
“Then that is good news,” said the doctor, sarcastically, “for during some time there hath been trouble, not there hath been like to be.”