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LETTERS
333

earnest, did not the Lords Covenanters' letters to our Lords here something divide me. So (sir) you may now imagine us walking up and down the banks of Tweed like the Tower lions in their cages, leaving the people to think what we would do if we were let loose. The enemy is not yet much visible: (it may be, it is the fault of the climate, which brings men as slowly forwards as plants:) but it gives us fears that the men of peace will draw all this to a dumb show, and so destroy a handsome opportunity, which was now offered, of producing glorious matter for future chronicle.

These are but conjectures, sir. The last part of my letter I reserve for a great and known truth, which is, that I am (sir)

Your most humble Servant, &c.

XXXIV

My Lord,
At this instant it is grown a calm greater than the storm, and if you will believe the soldier, worse. Good arms and horses are already cheap, and there is nothing risen in value but a Scotchman. Whether it be (my lord) the word native, or the king's good nature, we know not; but we find they really have that mercy on earth which we do but hope for from heaven; nor can they sin so fast as they are forgiven.

Some (and not unreasonably) perchance will imagine that this may invite good subjects to be ill, and that, as the sun melts ice but hardens clay, majesty, when it softens rebellion, may make allegiance stubborn. If (my lord) they shall more straitly now besiege the king's ear, and more boldly ingross suits, posterity must tell this miracle, that there went an army from the south, of which there was not one man lost, nor any man taken prisoner but the king.

All we have to raise the present joys above the future fears is, that we know majesty hath not swallowed down so severe pills as it was thought necessity would prescribe for the purging and setting itself right.

Your humble Servant.

XXXV

Sir,
The little stops or progresses which either love of the public, private fears, niceties of honour, or jealousy have caused in the treaty now on foot, arrive at me so slowly, that unless I had one of Mr. Davenant's Barbary pigeons (and he now employs them all, he says, himself for the queen's use) I