Meane while, in the first Weeke of my Arrivall in England, I was conveyed from Theobalds (by his Majesties direction) to Don Diego Surmento de Gundamore, the Spanish Ambassadour, then Resident in Holborne. A false promise unperformed.Where he votally undertooke, before then the two Lord Marquesses, Hammilton and Buckingham, (confirming it the day following to his Majesty at Greenewich) that after a condigne tryall had from Spaine, concerning my grievances: I should have all my money, Cloathes, Observations, Testimoniall Patents, and his Majesties Seales restored me agayne, with a thousand pound sterling also, (beeing modified by his Royall pleasure) of the Governour of Malagaes meanes, for the maintayning of my Lame and Racked body.
These promises were made the sixt of June 1621. and were to be performed againe Michaelmasse day insuing: But this day come, hee continued his drifts to the Prima vera; and it also arrived, he deferred time, with new protestations, onely to Easter or Pascua: And that Season come, he turned my Pascua to Prison: For a little before his departure (seeing his policy too strong for mine oppressed patience) I told him flatly in his face, from the griefe of my soule, what he was, and what he went about; which afterward proved true: Whereupon in the Chamber of Presence, before the Emperours Ambassadour, and diverse Knights and Gentle-men, his Majesties servants: A single combat betweene a Spanish Earle and a Scottish Traveller.he rashly adventured the credite of Leager honour, in a single Combat against me a retorted Plaintive: Where indeed his Fistula was contra-banded with a fist, and for Victory, favour lent him authority; because of my Commitment, [X. 485.]for I lay nine Weekes incarcerate in the Marshall-Sea at Southwarke: Whence I returned with more credite, then hee left England with honesty; beeing both Vanquish’d and Victor. And my Muse left to mourne for my Liberty, deplored thus.
Low levell’d lie, my lofty staring aymes,
Low droupes the flight, of my swift wing’d designe;
Low bowes that top, whose hight true merit claimes:
Low head-long fals the scope of my Engine:
Low turnes my round, harsh grow the sacred nine;
Low sinke my joyes, pale griefe, converts in care:
Low lurkes Ambition, in this breast of mine:
Low stoupe these smiles, that Fortune wont to share;