It is my third Letter: which I tell you, because I found not Mr Rogers, but left the Letter which I sent last, with a stranger at Cliffords Inne.
[xlvi.]
To Sir H. G.
Sir,
This 14 of November last I received yours of the 9, as I was in the street going to sup with my Lady Bedford; I found all that company forepossessed with a wonder why you came not last saturday. I perceive, that as your intermitting your Letters to me, gave me reason to hope for you, so some more direct addresse or conscience of your businesse here, had imprinted in them an assurance of your comming. This Letter shall but talke, not discourse; it shall but gossip, not consider, nor consult, so it is made halfe with a prejudice of being lost by the way. The King is gone this day for Royston: and hath left with the Queen a commandment to meditate upon a Masque for Christmas, so that they grow serious about that already; that will hasten my Lady Bedfords journey, who goes within ten days from hence to her Lord, but by reason of this, can make no long stay there. Justinian the Venetian [ambassador] is gone hence, and one Carraw [Carow] come in his place: that State hath taken a fresh offence at a Friar, who refused to absolve a Gentleman, because he would not expresse in confession, what books of Father Paul, and such, he knew to be in the hands of any others; the State commanded him out of that territory in three hours warning, and he hath now submitted himself, and is returned as prisoner for Mantua, and so remains as yet. Sir H. Wootton who writ hither, addes also that upon his knowledge there are 14000 as good Protestants as he in that State. The Duke Joyeuse is dead, in Primont [Peidmont], returning from Rome, where M. Mole [Molé] who went with the L[ord] Rosse, is taken into the Inquisition, and I see small hope of his recovery, for he had in some translations of Plessis books talked of Babylon and Antichrist. Except it fall out that one Strange a Jesuit in the Tower, may be accepted for him. To come a little nearer my self, Sir Geffery Fenton one of his Majesties Secretaries in Ireland is dead; and I have made some offer for the place, in preservation whereof, as I have had occasion to imploy all my friends, so I have not found in them all (except Bedford) more hast and words (for when those two are together, there is much comfort even in the least) then in the L. Hay. In good faith he promised so roundly, so abundantly, so profusely, as I suspected him, but performed what ever he undertook, (and my requests were the measures of his undertakings) so readily and truly, that his complements became obligations, and having spoke like a Courtier, did like a friend. This I tell you, because being farre under any ability of expressing my thankfulnesse to him by any proportionall service, I do, as much as I can, thank him by thanking of you, who begot, or nursed these good impressions of me in him. Sir, as my discretion would do, my fortune doth bring all my debts into one hand, for I owe you what ever Court friends do for me, yea, whatsoever I do for myself, because you almost importune me, to awake and stare the Court in the face. I know not yet what conjecture to make of the event. But I am content to go forward a little more in the madnesse of missing rather then not pretend; and rather wear out, then rust. It is extreme late; and as this Letter is nothing, so if ever it come to you, you will know it without a name, and therefore I may end it here.
[xlvii.]
To the Honourable Knight Sir H. Goodere.
SIR,