Now, he sayeth further, wee have us a prince Henry as good a protestant as ever ate bread, sober, wyse beyond his yeares: yet his father the King can thinke of nothing but to wed him to a popish princesse & this we cannot suffer to befall this lande for it will be the ruine of Gods church in England, the same as the King hath already begun with his depraved and ungodlie rule of bischopes. Soe my Lord D. and other worthie nobles of the true faith, thinking upon this lamentable past, hath brought forth a plan and have looked long for some one to bring it to particular action. And wee have found hym.

Who, quoth I? You, quoth hee. At hearinge this I wase much afrayde & sayde, for why? Thus he expressed it: you know the Kinges mother wase a vain wicked papiste traitor Mary Queen of Scotlande justlie executed by oure late Quene & this hath long rankled the King that all good Englishmen should despise his mother and mayhap thinke them: lyke mother lyke childe. Soe happlie he would looke with favour upon a playe presentinge Queen Mary as a goode woman wronged, & mayhap he should command this knave of whom I lately spake to write it oute. What then boy?

Then I thought mee be clever as you can Dick for thou art fulle in the power of this one and I sayd ’twould be a scandal to all goode protestants in the kingdom they would not stand it. He says Aye and tis why it is far from the Kinges mind. But suppose one feigning to be in service of some great Lord, a privy councillour even, should go to this maker of playes saying I bear direction from the Kinges majestie: write such a playe and thou wilt be rewarded & gaine favour in the Kinges sight. And suppose such a playe came to be and suppose it were plaied before the King and his courte, what think thee would befall? For know you that no playe can be shewn without a licence from the maistre of the revels: yet in truth no such license would ever issue for such a playe, ’twould be worth the heade of any such officer. Yet suppose further that we have the seal thereof and provide our knave with a false license and then he all unknowing goeth on & giveth the playe. What think you befalls?

Says I he would be ruined I think. You think rightlie boy & gives hym a laugh but with little joy in’t, he would be ruined & all this cursed plaieing with hym and not just that: the scandal as thou sayest would race through the kingdom, that the King hath put forth his mother as a goodlie dame unjustlie put down by Elizabeth the Quene, who shall further appear in this playe as a vile scheming bastard. Soe alarums hither & yon: the King denieth all as he must, this knave I spake of is ta’en up and racked, oh yes I shall see to that myself: and racked he giveth forth the names of all who hath complotted this outrage, viz. first Rochester and all otheres who seek a papiste match for oure prince. They are disgraced, deny it how they may & soe do wee put down for ever this papiste match. What think you of this?

Quoth I, sir, a mightie plan methinkes but agen I ask why chuse Dick Bracegirdle? He says, because thou art an Arden by thy dam as is hym we aim at, you are cozens or may seem to be and you can feign at need the same demi-papistrie he professeth if truth be knowne. Soe if my Lord Rochester wisht to sende a privy messenger to this one who shall he chuse better than one such as you. Recall this is all to be done close, or so you shall give out, for my Lord desireth to surprize the King at his birthday with a new playe. But say now, are you oure man?

To this there was but one answer an I ever wished to see free aire again soe I said yes and he sware me a greate oathe on a Bible and warned it should at my grave perill should I ever betray’t. After-ward I asked pray what is the name of this fellowe and he says William Shaxspure: this the first tyme I ever heard the name.

Soe I wase freed next night and in darknesse passed wee by boat from Tower stayres up-river to a greate house in the Strand belonging to my Lord Dunbarton and was presented to my Lord, a verey grave fat man much burdened by affayres, but uzed me kindley enow & sayde I would doe greate worke for England if wee could but brynge oure devizes to fruite. But wee did not in the end, God willed other wise in His greate wisdom & in later yeares I oft thought mee had wee won all wee had forecaste & hoped mayhap the present broiles that bid fayre to ravage oure sad countrie had therebye been checked. Yet I wase but a smalle peece upon the board & verilie is it sayde His thoughts are greater than oure thoughts Amen.

I stopped some weekes at Dunbarton House, well-tabeled, dressed in cloathes finer than aught I had before but verey sober. Of daies Mr Piggott taught me how to write & reade cypher’d messauges & he wase amazed how well I did in this & I tolde hym my minde had been trayned up in the Mathematick artes long since & your cyphers be somethyng lyke. Soe he was pleazed there-bye. I reade deepe in the Tracktee de Chiffres a French booke late Englished & Sigr. Porta’s De Furtivas verie subtle werkes & too the grilles of Mstr. Cardano & this arte lyked mee so welle that I did labour longe at it in the night-tyme, for there was no lack of candels at Dunbarton House and shewed Mr Piggott my werkynges: and after some wekes wase hee not full amaz’d for I had mayde a new cypher the lyke hee had not seen before & hee sayde e’en the Pope could not mayke it oute.

Afterward he had mee increase my skill at recollection of wordes hym saying many score of them and set mee to recall them in the self-same order & set down in writing. Besides, he shewed me lykenesses of men & women & viewes of townes & countrie-sydes all verey prettilie made with paintes & mee made to describe them after onlie a little scant looke. The same: hee & another feigned a discourse of poperie and treasoun, mee conceeled behind a screen & later I am made to tell him all the plot. Here again he admitteth I doe well. Soe now I aske hym be this all the intelligencers art and he answereth nay, this be but the smaller parte, which answer puzzel’d me much.

Yet later I understood hym, for next cometh a man Henry Wales a leering coxcombe he seemed, in modern pretty cloathes fit for one of higher state, but Mr Piggott spake civillie to him & gave him a purse and spake me Dick, here be your true friend Henry Wales that you have knowne since youth in Warwickshire, now met in London amid greate joie. He is an actor of the Kinges Companie & knoweth Mr Wm. Shaxespur right well. Then Mr Piggott caste on me such a looke as I knew his meaning afresh: that I too wase to be actor but in lyfe not upon stage & this is what it is to be an intelligencer not mere cyphers, listening & recollection & I thought mee then of my first yeare in the foundry when I acted the boorish prentice rough in word and harsh in dede whilst keepyng my true selfe within & thought yea this can I doe & lett the papistes & traitoures feare.

All that befell thereafter you will finde writ in the letteres that I passed to Lord D. viz: my approache to this Shaxspure, what passed between us, the playe he wrought of that wicked queene of Scots, and what became of it, and at laste how wee fayled and so I shalnot repeate here for I feare me I have not more than a few houres & it straineth me to write more. You know well Nan my lyfe thereafter & I am saddened that I can not relate it to hym as I have those yeares before. Say to hym your sire was a gonner in the German warres in the goode Protestant cause: was at White Mountain and vanquished by the papistes & at Breitenfeilde and Luttzen holped vanquishe them: but tyring of warre & sore hurt in the foote by a bullet then returned, my father having since died & your fishmonger dying also (the which I had prayed for & pray you and God forgyve mee for it!) and were married 3rd Aprill 1632 St. Margaret Pattens & yeare after had a son, praise God & maye hee live long and thee.