d your
revenues to be.' Spite and covetousness he held to have been Ralegh's
temptations. Yet the King could not be blamed for wishing to have for
Captain of the Guard 'one of his own knowledge, whom he might trust,' or
for desiring no longer to burden his people with a wine monopoly for
Ralegh's particular good. Popham embellished his confused discourse,
partly apologetic, and partly condemnatory, but not intentionally brutal
or malevolent, by a glance at Ralegh's reputed free-thinking. He had
been taxed, said Popham, by the world with the defence of most
heathenish and blasphemous opinions. 'You will do well,' the virtuous
Chief Justice exhorted him, 'before you go out of the world, to give
satisfaction therein. Let not any devil,' or, according to the Harleian
MSS. version, 'Hariot nor any such doctor, persuade you there is no
eternity in Heaven; if you think thus, you shall find eternity in Hell
fire.' Ralegh had warned Cobham against confessions. Let him not apply
the advice to himself. 'Your conceit of not confessing anything is very
inhuman and wicked. In this world is the time of confessing, that we may
be absolved at the Day of Judgment.' By way of peroration he added: 'It
now comes into my mind why you may not have your accuser face to face.
When traitors see themselves must die, they think it best to see their
fellow live, that he may commit the like treason again, and so in some
sort seek revenge.' Lastly, he pronounced the savage legal sentence.

When Popham had ended Ralegh spoke a few words. He prayed that the jury
might never have to answer for its verdict. He 'only craved pardon for
having concealed Lord Cobham's offer to him, which he did through a
confidence that he had diverted him from those humours.' Praying then
permission to speak to Lords Suffolk, Devonshire, Henry Howard, and
Cecil, he entreated their intercession, which they promised, Cecil with
tears, that his death might be honourable and not ignominious. He is
alleged further to have requested their mediation with the King for a
pardon, or, at least, that, if Cobham too were convicted, and if the
sentence were to be carried out, Cobham might die first. The petition
was not an ebullition of vindictiveness. It had a practical purpose. On
the scaffold he could say nothing for Cobham; Cobham might say much for
him. It was possible that, when nothing more was to be gained by
falsehoods, his recreant friend would clear his fame once for all. Then