I got me to bed, and lying all that night in pain; I held it convenient not to rise the next day.
And on the Monday, Master Murray came unto me; which was the eighth time that he had been with me, so incessantly was I plied with this noble work.
I had shewed it [the Apostolical Obedience] to a friend or two: whereof the one was a learned Doctor of Divinity; and the other had served many times in Parliament with great commendation. We all agreed that it was an idle work of a man that understood not Logic, that evidently crossed [contradicted] himself, that sometimes spake plausibly; and, in the end of his Sermon, [it] fell so poor and flat, that it was not worth the reading.
Master Murray coming to my bedside, said, "That he was sent again by the King, and had a paper to be shewed unto me."
Archbishop. You see in what case I am, having slept little all this last night; but nevertheless since you come from the King, I will take my spectacles, and read it.
Murray. No, my Lord! You may not read it, nor handle it; for I have charge not to suffer it to go out of my hands.
Archbishop. How then, shall I know what it is?
Murray. Yes, I have order to read it unto you! but I may not part with it.
Archbishop. I must conceive, that if I do not assent to it, His Majesty will give me leave to reply upon it; which I cannot do, but in my study, for there are my books.