Theise weare our intents, with mischiefs many more, Even confusion to the whole realme to have brought, Confederates we had, and that no small store; Which ruyne and destruction weare readie to have wrought; We either mente to make or bringe all to noughte. Nought ne nought indeede, for nought weare our happs, For desperate myndes doe feare no after clapps:
So forwarde weare that the verye daye was sett To murther our good queene, that God had preserved; _Barnewell_ and _Savage_ should have done the feate; But justice rewarded them as they well deserved, Being twoe monstrose traytors that from duty swerved; The daggs and all things weare redye preparde, But in the nett they layde, they themselves weare snared.
And _Ballarde_, that beast, hee into England was come, A Jesuite, a prieste, and a semynarie vilde; Hee brought with him our absolution from Roome, Promysinge good successe, wherein he was beguyled; So that from our hartes all pitye hee exilde; And still he incoraged us in my myscheife to precede, Egging us forwarde wherein there was no neede.
But God woulde not suffer us so closelie to worke, But that all our doyngs laye open in his sight: Revealinge those myscheifs, that in our hartes did lurke, When wee suspected not, he brought the same to light. Then must wee hyde our hedds, or scape awaye by flight; But when wee had inklinge our treasons were descryde, Away awaye in haste twas then no tyme to byde.
Then watche and warde was made in everye coaste, Then weare wee taken, eache houre of the daye; My selfe was once taken, but whie shoulde I boaste, Howe that I made a scape and so gott awaye, Not knowinge where to goe nor have perfitt staye; But to Harrow on the Hill my selfe I convayde, There in _Bellamyes_ howse a little tyme I stayde.
But there was made for me suche previe watche and warde, And the contrie so besett, I no where coulde flye, All hope of my escape was utterlie debarde; And searche in eache corner was made no nye, That I was compelde this polecye to trye; To forsake the house and my self disguyse, Lyke an Inkeper of London, to bleare the people's eyes.
But a rewarde was promyst hym that coulde me take, Which made the people looke so much the nere; And beinge constrayned the house to forsake; Walked throughe the pastures as men without feer; My man, like an hostler, was cladd in simple geare; But this woulde not serve if truthe I shall tell, My favor I could not change, my face was knowen well.