“My Lords,” he said, “I swear that all that was in me cried out against the wickedness of thus privily slaying her Majesty.”

Some muttered, “The villain! he lies,” but the kindly Richard sighed inaudibly, “True, poor lad!  Thou must have given thy conscience over to strange keepers to be thus led astray.”

And Babington went on to say that they had brought this gentleman, Father Ballard, who had wrought with him to prove that his scruples were weak, carnal, and ungodly, and that it would be a meritorious deed in the sight of Heaven thus to remove the heretic usurper.

Here the judges sternly bade him not to blaspheme, and he replied, with that “soberness and good grace” which seems to have struck all the beholders, that he craved patience and pardon, meaning only to explain how he had been led to the madness which he now repented, understanding himself to have been in grievous error, though not for the sake of any temporal reward; but being blinded to the guilt, and assured that the deed was both lawful and meritorious.  He thus had been brought to destruction through the persuasions of this Ballard.

“A very fit author for so bad a fact,” responded Hatton.

“Very true, sir,” said Babington; “for from so bad a ground never proceed any better fruits.  He it was who persuaded me to kill the Queen, and to commit the other treasons, whereof I confess myself guilty.”

Savage pleaded guilty at once, with the reckless hardihood of a soldier accustomed to look on death as the fortune of war.

Barnwell denied any intention of killing the Queen (much to Diccon’s surprise), but pleaded guilty to the rest.  Donne said that on being told of the plot he had prayed that whatever was most to the honour and glory of Heaven might be done, and being pushed hard by Hatton, turned this into a confession of being guilty.  Salisbury declared that he had always protested against killing the Queen, and that he would not have done so for a kingdom, but of the rest he was guilty.  Tichborne showed that but for an accidental lameness be would have been at his home in Hampshire, but he could not deny his knowledge of the treason.

All having pleaded guilty, no trial was permitted, such as would have brought out the different degrees of guilt, which varied in all the seven.

A long speech was, however, made by the counsel for the Crown, detailing the plot as it had been arranged for the public knowledge, and reading aloud a letter from Babington to Queen Mary, describing his plans both for her rescue and the assassination, saying, “he had appointed six noble gentlemen for the despatch of the wicked competitor.”

Richard caught a look of astonishment on the unhappy young man’s face, but it passed into hopeless despondency, and the speech went on to describe the picture of the conspirators and its strange motto, concluding with an accusation that they meant to sack London, burn the ships, and “cloy the ordnance.”