"Now shall you see Sir Thomas Overbury, with pink roses in his shoes, a rapier fit for a Castilian Don, mustachios curling to the moon, and a beard of the most approved cut!" exclaimed Bradshaw, addressing Graham. "The barber has been labouring upon him for an hour and a half this morning. Sixteen new pairs of Spanish leather gloves, with pumps of Cordova, and a new velvet jerkin, reached his lodging last night. His ruff has broken the heart of the laundress; and his hose--Heaven help us! saw ever man the like of his hose? One would suppose his nether man a jewel of rare price, to be thrust into such an elaborate casket. I will warrant you, he will trip by upon the tips of his toes, with a 'Give you good den, dear Master Bradshaw! Good den, Master Graham!--the King favours you both--you are likely young men;'" and he mimicked the affected tone of some of the superfine courtiers of the day.

"But what is the cause of all this?" asked Graham, who took him literally. "What has happened to him?"

"Oh! sir; he is in the high way to fortune," answered Bradshaw. "As a sconce in a corner of a room reflects suddenly the light of a candle which the housemaid brings in her hand, and another sconce over the chimney catches a gleam from it, so shines the King's favour upon Rochester, and is reflected from Rochester to Overbury; and you may argue from the premises, that they are both to be lighted up anon, as far as the oil and wick will go; though, to say sooth, the reel and cruse are both somewhat low in the royal closet. The people must be pinched, sir; the people must be pinched. What is the nation but a great gold sponge, to yield its juices under the King's pressure? However, my mother whips me, and I whip my top; Rochester smiles upon Overbury, and the King smiles upon Rochester. Did you not see how the favourite took his favourite by the ear just now, led him to the royal door, then thrust him in, so that he well nigh fell at the King's feet, to thank him for his bounties before he knew what they were?"

"I thought Overbury was somewhat out of favour," replied Graham; "there was a report of a quarrel between him and Rochester about the Lady Essex; and don't you remember, when we were at Greenwich, people said, the King suspected him of giving poor Lady Arabella a hint to run away?"

"Bless your ignorance, Graham!" cried Bradshaw; "he is a carpenter--a joiner, who saws things in two, and glues them together again with a dexterity quite marvellous. No sooner is a hole made than it is patched up again; and, for darning on new favours to old ones, he is better than any tailor in the land. Have you not seen how Rochester hangs upon him, and calls him Tom? and, moreover, the King gave his good lordship five thousand pounds upon a hint from Overbury. No, no; you will see him a great man soon; but whether it will be secretary, or lord keeper, or lord mayor, who can tell?"

While such conversation was going on in the ante-room, the object of it was in the king's closet with James, alone. He had been suddenly called from his own chamber by Rochester, and hurried, without information of what was the matter in hand, into the presence of the King. Rochester then immediately closed the door, and left him there, having previously brought the monarch to the exact pitch he desired.

The description of Overbury's entrance had, indeed, been somewhat caricatured by Bradshaw; but though he did not exactly fall at the King's feet, he made a profound obeisance; for James loved the semblance of the most devoted respect, even while he was doing everything in his power to root out the reality from the hearts of his subjects; and we learn from Sully, that in the early part of his reign, at least, he caused himself, upon all public occasions, to be served at table on the knee.

The King's face was evidently made up for a speech; and Sir Thomas Overbury, with his eyes cast down, waited in silence for what was to come next.

"Sir Thomas," said the monarch, after a brief pause, "you are well aware of the high estimation in which we hold your abilities; and we now intend to give you a proof of the confidence which we have both in your honesty and judgment, by placing you in a situation of high trust and confidence, where you may have some matters of great difficulty to handle, and some acts of great importance to perform. In the conduct of these proceedings you will always have to bear in mind your duty to God, which is best displayed in the service of the King. To that, sir, you are bound to sacrifice every other consideration, and to show yourself worthy of heaven and your sovereign, by diligence, devotion, and faithfulness. Upon these three heads of diligence, devotion, and faithfulness, we shall expatiate for a moment." And the King went on to show what he considered to be the duty of a subject employed by a monarch, which certainly left the poor instrument nothing but the state and condition of a slave.

"You are not, sir, to undertake the ruling or governing of any matter without my especial commands," continued James; "that is a part of my craft, to which long experience, as well as the blessing of God, which endows kings with qualities to fit them for the station of his vice-regents on earth, has suited me especially. You may indeed suggest, reverently, anything that may strike your own senses, submitting your opinion wholly to the King for his decision and judgment, and remembering that to do his will, is to do your duty, without doubts, surmisings, and questionings, any farther than may be necessary to assure yourself of his purposes."

We need not proceed farther with James's harangue; it was very similar to many others upon record; but perhaps more strongly than on most occasions, it enforced his claims to passive obedience from his subjects; for which purpose he tortured several texts of Scripture in such a manner as would have justified the purest despotism that ever disgraced the earth. Five times he called himself the Lord's Anointed; and there can be little doubt that, at that moment, his mind hesitated as to which of the two famous monarchs he was, David or Solomon. He inclined, perhaps, to the latter; but yet he had a strong hankering to be David too, only that he knew himself not to be a man of valour, mighty in war.

Sir Thomas Overbury heard him with every appearance of the most profound devotion and respect; and although he knew that the most pompous speeches did not always precede the most magnificent actions, he had little doubt that the least honour the King was about to bestow upon him, was that of raising him to the rank of Privy Councillor. The monarch ended, however, without informing him what was the dignity with which he was to be invested; but, raising a sealed packet from the table, he placed it in his hands, saying,

"There, sir! there! go your way, and meditate upon what we have addressed to you."

Sir Thomas bowed, kissed the King's hand; and expressing his deep sense of James's goodness, though very little divining in what it consisted, retired with the packet. The Knight hurried at once to his own apartment, where he instantly broke the seal, and read. But though the countenance with which he had passed through the ante-room had been as full of buoyant satisfaction as Bradshaw had anticipated, the expression now suddenly changed to one of mortification, disappointment, and rage; and casting the paper violently down upon the floor, he exclaimed--

"Curses upon the traitor! This is his machination. When I have devoted my whole life to serve him, he goes about to ruin me. Russia!--Russia!--Banishment!--Banishment to the farthest part of the earth! cut off from all communication, from all chance or hope of advancement; with no trust to execute, no negotiation to carry on, no opportunity of distinction!--A nation of northern savages. Why not send me to the Cham of Tartary, or to Prester John? Does he think that I will accept such a mission?--Let him go himself, if he likes it; his abilities are well fitted for the task:" and he laughed with bitter and contemptuous merriment.

"Stay, I will write my answer," he continued; and he seated himself at a table; but scarcely had he taken the pen in hand, when one of his servants entered, announcing the Lord Rochester. A spasm of repressed rage passed over Overbury's countenance, but instantly vanished; and he received the favourite with a forced smile.

"Why, what are you about, Tom?" cried Rochester, entering, and casting his well-dressed and graceful limbs into a chair. "I expected to find you capering about the room, in joy at some gracious favour bestowed upon you by his Majesty."

"Oh, no!" answered Overbury. "I am a grave and serious man, my Lord; and, as to what I am about, I am writing to his most gracious Majesty, to thank him for the honour conferred upon me, but begging to decline it."

"Decline it?" exclaimed Rochester, with every appearance of surprise and consternation: "pause and think a moment, Overbury. What, in the name of fortune, can the king have offered, that any of his subjects should dare to decline?"

"Nay, my lord, you know right well," replied Sir Thomas Overbury, "that this is a thing I cannot accept."

"Really," replied Rochester, "the king has not told me what he was going to offer you."

The reader already knows that this was false, but will not be surprised that in this case, as in all others, one vice brought on a second, or that lying should be consequent upon treachery.

Overbury gazed in his face for a single instant, and then replied, "I am happy to hear it, my good lord; for the man who counselled this did no friendly act to one who has ever striven to serve you."

"'Tis most likely the king's own act," replied Rochester. "You know how often he determines on such things himself. But what is it, Overbury? It cannot be so bad as you seem to think."

"As bad as may be, my good lord," answered the knight; "it is a sentence of banishment--ay, and worse than the banishment of any ordinary criminal. He who conspires against the good of the state, and is yet cunning enough, as so many are, to go within an inch of treason, yet not overstep the iron limit of the law, is exiled reasonably to other lands, that his turbulence may no more disturb the peace of England. But the whole world is left him to choose where he will make his refuge. He may suit his whim, his tastes, or his complexion, as best suits him; he may range from the damp pools of Holland and the misty Rhine, to the far boundaries of Italy; may cross the Adriatic or the Hellespont, and become pilgrim to the Sepulchre. He is as free as the air to sweep over the whole world, except this island, and may make himself a country where he pleases. But in my case, I am shackled and tied down; my place of banishment is fixed in the most sickly and unfriendly region of the earth, among cold barbarians, unlettered, rough, and fierce, and all for the crime of----"

"Of what?" asked Rochester, seeing him pause.

"Of serving my Lord of Rochester, I suppose," replied Sir Thomas Overbury; "for I know of none other to charge myself withal."

"Nay, nay," answered Rochester; "you must be jesting, my good friend. Speak in plain English. Remember, I never could make out a riddle in my life."

"Well, then, the case stands thus," said Overbury. "His most gracious majesty, from his particular favour to myself and you, proposes to send me to the court of Russia as his ambassador in ordinary, there to remain till in his good pleasure he recalls me. Now, I foresee, that the day, as well as the distance, will be some what long. I love not travelling; at least have had enough to cure me for all fondness for such journeys, and, therefore, am even now sitting down to write to his majesty, declining the cold honour thus intended for me."

"I fear you will offend the king," said Rochester.

"Better offend the king than destroy myself," replied Sir Thomas Overbury; "but, in a word, I will not not go--I love not bears and wolves--am somewhat chilly in my nature, too--and, though fur cloaks are comfortable things, I had rather wear them for show than for necessity. Let him turn Muscovite or Turk who will. I will have none of such an embassy. So, if you will permit me, as this requires a speedy decision, I will even finish my letter, that his majesty may not say I made him wait."

"Well, well, if you are so headstrongly inclined," answered the favourite, "write out the letter, and I will carry it to the king myself, beseeching him to take your refusal in good part."

"Not so, indeed," cried Overbury; "I cannot think of making your lordship my errand-boy."

"But I must insist on doing it," answered Rochester. "You have done the same for me ere now; and no one can move the king in the matter with such probable success as myself. Do you doubt me, Overbury?"

"Oh, not at all, my lord," replied the knight. "I doubt no man, much less one to whom I have been so devoted;" and, seeing that he could not avoid intrusting the letter to his former friend, he proceeded to write an answer to the king.

"Pray make it humble and submissive," said Rochester.

"As a slave!" replied the knight, and wrote on.

When the letter was concluded, he folded it, called for wax, and sealed it with his signet. Then, giving it to Rochester, he said, "I really am ashamed of using you as a messenger; but I trust that, in memory of the past, my good Lord,--from many friendly passages between us,--and from my zeal and fidelity in your service,--which might have been somewhat rude, but never wanting,---you will use your best endeavours to obtain for me his Majesty's permission to decline the honour he intended me."

"I will do the best I can," answered Rochester; "but you must not attribute the bad success to me, if I fail. I fear, at best, you will greatly injure yourself; but that is not my fault;" and away he went, saying to himself, as he walked along the passages of the palace, "That man must be disposed of somehow. He suspects me, and will find some opportunity for revenge. I cannot trust him longer, and yet I would not injure him, if I could help it. His own unruliness will be his ruin."

In the meantime, Overbury sat with his head leaning upon his hand, in meditation bitter enough.

"He goes to complete his treachery," he thought. "On my life, this feeble-minded favourite is as base as shrewder men. 'Tis safer by far to serve a sensible villain than a weak fool. One is sure of the former, so long as his interest goes with ours: there is no security with a creature like that. He will ruin himself; so 'tis no wonder that he begins by ruining others."

With such reflections, the knight remained for about twenty minutes; at the end of which time Lord Rochester returned, with a grave face, accompanied by Sir Charles Blount. Overbury received them with politeness somewhat too ceremonious; but Rochester immediately said, "I have made no way with your petition--the King insists upon obedience."

"He shall not have it!" exclaimed Overbury, hastily. "I have yet to learn that an Englishman can be banished from the land, at a King's will, without any crime committed. I will not go, my Lord; and methinks, in his high favour, my Lord of Rochester, if right willing, might have obtained a higher grace of the Sovereign than merely that his poor friend should have leave to remain in his native land, rather than to carry his bones to Russia but to leave them there."

"You do me wrong, sir," replied Rochester. "I have brought Sir Charles Blount with me, who was present all the time, to inform you that I urged his Majesty, as much as was decent, to grant your request."

"He did, in truth, Sir Thomas," said Blount.

"Then he has fallen, indeed!" cried Overbury. "I have known the time, Sir Charles, when, if this noble gentleman had asked the King to give him half a province, he would have had it, in land or money."

"That is a different thing," said Sir Charles Blount, drily, "from asking a monarch to permit his subjects to disobey him. I doubt not his Majesty would rather give half his kingdom, than bate a jot of his prerogative."

Rochester had sat, while these few words were exchanged, with his eyes fixed upon the ground; but at length raising them, he said, in an earnest tone, "I do beseech you, Overbury, for your own sake, obey the King; and be assured that I will do my best to shorten the period of your absence, and to obtain your recal as speedily as may be."

This time he was sincere; for his heart somewhat smote him, and a dread of the reproach of men, when it should be known that he had dealt with such ingratitude to one by whose counsels and assistance he had prospered, affected him not a little.

There is something that all great men feel, and even meaner persons too, when raised to high station by accident or fortune, in the stamp which history is to affix upon their name, which overawes many a bad action rising up in their heart, and gives energy and vigour to nobler purposes. Vague it is, and undefined, like all remote objects, like fate--like death--like the judgment after death; but still it casts its shadow over the present, and quells the dazzling brilliancy of pettier objects near.

Weak and short-sighted as he was, Rochester experienced its influence at that moment. To be branded with the stain of foul ingratitude for coming times--to be marked out in the annals of the age as one who had betrayed and ruined his friend--to be held up for scorn and reprobation as a base and thankless villain, in the eyes of his children and his children's children, somewhat appalled him; and he wished that he had not taken the first step in a course so full of shame.

But Overbury answered fiercely, with indignation and disappointment, and the rage of a strong ambitious spirit mastering common prudence.

"It is vain--it is vain!" he said. "I am a freeborn Englishman! I will not go! Let him make me if he can!"

"These words are unpleasant," cried Sir Charles Blount. "Sir Thomas, I will take my leave. My Lord of Rochester, I must go."

"And so must I." rejoined Rochester. "It is useless to argue longer with him."

"Good-bye, gentlemen both," said Overbury. "Rochester," he added, in a meaning tone, "Rochester--take care!"

The favourite turned, and looked at him with a glance of anger and contempt; and saying, in a low voice, "I will!" he quitted the room.

In about half an hour--it could not be more--a royal barge, containing a gentleman, with his arms folded on his chest, his head bent down, and his brow frowning, together with a small party of the guard, and a messenger, was seen upon the Thames, close to the stairs; and as the waterman pushed off towards the middle of the stream, the officer in command said aloud, "To the Tower!"

The gentleman which that boat conveyed to the gloomy abode of captivity and sorrow, was Sir Thomas Overbury!