"Lord Russel," said he, "shall find that I am possessed of that prerogative which, in the case of Lord Stafford, he thought proper to deny me." As the fury of the country party had rendered it impossible for the king, without the imminent danger of his crown, to pardon so many Catholics, whom he firmly believed innocent, and even affectionate and loyal to him, he probably thought that, since the edge of the law was now ready to fall upon that party themselves, they could not reasonably expect that he would interpose to save them.
Russel's consort, a woman of virtue, daughter and heir of the good earl of Southampton, threw herself at the king's feet and pleaded with many tears the merits and loyalty of her father, as an atonement for those errors into which honest, however mistaken, principles had seduced her husband.

These supplications were the last instance of female weakness (if they deserve the name) which she betrayed.

Finding all applications vain, she collected courage, and not only fortified herself against the fatal blow, but endeavored by her example to strengthen the resolution of her unfortunate lord.

With a tender and decent composure they took leave of each other on the day of his execution.

"The bitterness of death is now past," said he, when he turned from her.