“I, a poor gentleman,” he said, “who have wholly depended upon herself alone—­and now, being commanded to a service of the greatest importance that ever her Majesty employed any servant in, and finding the occasion so serving me, and the necessity of time such as would not permit such delays, flatly seeing that if that opportunity were lost, the like again for her service and the good of the realm was never, to be looked for, presuming upon the favour of my prince, as many servants have done, exceeding somewhat thereupon, rather than breaking any part of my commission, taking upon me a place whereby I found these whole countries could be held at her best devotion, without binding her Majesty to any such matter as she had forbidden to the States before finding, I say, both the time and opportunity to serve, and no lack but to trust to her gracious acceptation, I now feel that how good, how honourable, how profitable soever it be, it is turned to a worse part than if I had broken all her commissions and commandments, to the greatest harm, and dishonour, and danger, that may be imagined against her person, state, and dignity.”

He protested, not without a show of reason, that he was like to be worse punished “for well-doing than any man that had committed a most heinous or traitorous offence,” and he maintained that if he had not accepted the government, as he had done, “the whole State had been gone and wholly lost.”  All this—­as we have seen—­had already been stoutly urged by Davison, in the very face of the tempest, but with no result, except to gain the, enmity of both parties to the quarrel.  The ungrateful Leicester now expressed confidence that the second go-between would be more adroit than the first had proved.  “The causes why,” said he, “Mr. Davison could have told—­no man better—­but Mr. Heneage can now tell, who hath sought to the uttermost the bottom of all things.  I will stand to his report, whether glory or vain desire of title caused me to step one foot forward in the matter.  My place was great enough and high enough before, with much less trouble than by this, besides the great indignation of her Majesty . . . . .  If I had overslipt the good occasion then in danger, I had been worthy to be hanged, and to be taken for a most lewd servant to her Majesty, and a dishonest wretch to my country.”

But diligently as Heneage had sought to the bottom of all things, he had not gained the approbation of Sidney.  Sir Philip thought that the new man had only ill botched a piece of work that had been most awkwardly contrived from the beginning.  “Sir Thomas Heneage,” said he, “hath with as much honesty, in my opinion done as much hurt as any man this twelve-month hath done with naughtiness.  But I hope in God, when her Majesty finds the truth of things, her graciousness will not utterly, overthrow a cause so behooveful and costly unto her.”