Prayer, and dedicating them to Villiers. The
warrant, though he was then in Hertfordshire, was dated the day of the
scene in the King's Bench. It was directed to the Chancellor. It
dispensed with 'the manner of execution according to his former
judgment, and released Sir Walter Ralegh of the same to be drawn,
hanged, and quartered.' The royal pleasure instead thereof was to have
the head only of the said Sir Walter Ralegh cut off at or within the
Palace of Westminster.

CHAPTER XXX.

RALEGH'S TRIUMPH (October 28-29, 1618).

[Sidenote: _The Gate-house._]

Ralegh was confined in the Gate-house of the old monastery of St. Peter.
It was a small two-storied building of the age of Edward III, standing
at the western entrance to Tothill-street. The structure embraced two
adjoining gates, with rooms which had been turned into prison cells. By
the side of the gate leading northwards from the College-court, was the
Bishop of London's prison for convicted clerks and Romish recusants.
With the other gate westwards was connected the gaol of the Liberty of
Westminster, to which Ralegh had been committed. The Abbey was visible
through its barred windows. Ben Jonson had been confined in it. Eliot,
Hampden, and Selden were to be. Lovelace sang there to stone walls.
Esmond's name may be added to the list of its glories. Ralegh had been
afraid the King might prevent him from speaking, or from being heard. He
feared that the space for his friends would be narrow. As he crossed
Palace Yard to the Gate-house he had asked Sir Hugh Beeston, of
Cheshire, to be there. 'But,' he said, 'I do not know what you may do
for a place. For my part, I am sure of one.' Many came to the prison to
bid farewell. Among them, according to Sir William Sanderson, was his
father, the ex-deputy Licenser. Ralegh was lively and cheerful. To those
who grieved he said: 'The world itself is but a larger prison, out of
which some are daily selected for execution.' There is no reason for
doubting the sincerity of his content. He had striven manfully for a
life which for him meant the exercise of fruitful energy. He rejoiced in
death, when, from no remissness of his, it closed his labours. His
kinsman, Francis Thynne, advised him: 'Do not carry it with too much
bravery. Your enemies will take exception, if you do.' His friends were
afraid of the 'pride' which had provoked Henry Howard. 'It is my last
mirth in this world,' replied he; 'do not grudge it to me. W