The Abbot Page 24

  Chapter the Twenty-Second.

  I give this heavy weight from off my head, And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand; With mine own tears I wash away my balm, With mine own hand I give away my crown, With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, With mine own breath release all duteous oaths. RICHARD II.

  Lord Ruthven had the look and bearing which became a soldier and astatesman, and the martial cast of his form and features procured himthe popular epithet of Greysteil, by which he was distinguished by hisintimates, after the hero of a metrical romance then generally known.His dress, which was a buff-coat embroidered, had a half-militarycharacter, but exhibited nothing of the sordid negligence whichdistinguished that of Lindesay. But the son of an ill-fated sire, andthe father of a yet more unfortunate family, bore in his look that castof inauspicious melancholy, by which the physiognomists of that timepretended to distinguish those who were predestined to a violent andunhappy death.

  The terror which the presence of this nobleman impressed on the Queen'smind, arose from the active share he had borne in the slaughter ofDavid Rizzio; his father having presided at the perpetration of thatabominable crime, although so weak from long and wasting illness, thathe could not endure the weight of his armour, having arisen from asick-bed to commit a murder in the presence of his Sovereign. On thatoccasion his son also had attended and taken an active part. It waslittle to be wondered at, that the Queen, considering her conditionwhen such a deed of horror was acted in her presence, should retain aninstinctive terror for the principal actors in the murder. She returned,however, with grace the salutation of Lord Ruthven, and extended herhand to George Douglas, who kneeled, and kissed it with respect; thefirst mark of a subject's homage which Roland Graeme had seen any ofthem render to the captive Sovereign. She returned his greeting insilence, and there was a brief pause, during which the steward of thecastle, a man of a sad brow and a severe eye, placed, under GeorgeDouglas's directions, a table and writing materials; and the page,obedient to his mistress's dumb signal, advanced a large chair to theside on which the Queen stood, the table thus forming a sort of barwhich divided the Queen and her personal followers from her unwelcomevisitors. The steward then withdrew after a low reverence. When he hadclosed the door behind him, the Queen broke silence--"With your favour,my lords, I will sit--my walks are not indeed extensive enough atpresent to fatigue me greatly, yet I find repose something morenecessary than usual."

  She sat down accordingly, and, shading her cheek with her beautifulhand, looked keenly and impressively at each of the nobles in turn.Mary Fleming applied her kerchief to her eyes, and Catherine Seyton andRoland Graeme exchanged a glance, which showed that both were too deeplyengrossed with sentiments of interest and commiseration for their royalmistress, to think of any thing which regarded themselves.

  "I wait the purpose of your mission, my lords," said the Queen, aftershe had been seated for about a minute without a word-being spoken,--"Iwait your message from those you call the Secret Council.-I trust itis a petition of pardon, and a desire that I will resume my rightfulthrone, without using with due severity my right of punishing those whohave dispossessed me of it."

  "Madam," replied Ruthven, "it is painful for us to speak harsh truths toa Princess who has long ruled us. But we come to offer, not to implore,pardon. In a word, madam, we have to propose to you on the part of theSecret Council, that you sign these deeds, which will contribute greatlyto the pacification of the State, the advancement of God's word, and thewelfare of your own future life."

  "Am I expected to take these fair words on trust, my lord? or may I hearthe contents of these reconciling papers, ere I am asked to sign them?"

  "Unquestionably, madam; it is our purpose and wish, you should read whatyou are required to sign," replied Ruthven.

  "Required?" replied the Queen, with some emphasis; "but the phrase suitswell the matter-read, my lord."

  The Lord Ruthven proceeded to read a formal instrument, running in theQueen's name, and setting forth that she had been called, at an earlyage, to the administration of the crown and realm of Scotland, and hadtoiled diligently therein, until she was in body and spirit so weariedout and disgusted, that she was unable any longer to endure the travailand pain of State affairs; and that since God had blessed her with afair and hopeful son, she was desirous to ensure to him, even whileshe yet lived, his succession to the crown, which was his by right ofhereditary descent. "Wherefore," the instrument proceeded, "we, of themotherly affection we bear to our said son, have renounced and demitted,and by these our letters of free good-will, renounce and demit, theCrown, government, and guiding of the realm of Scotland, in favour ofour said son, that he may succeed to us as native Prince thereof, asmuch as if we had been removed by disease, and not by our own properact. And that this demission of our royal authority may have the morefull and solemn effect, and none pretend ignorance, we give, grant,and commit, fall and free and plain power to our trusty cousins, LordLindesay of the Byres, and William Lord Ruthven, to appear in ourname before as many of the nobility, clergy, and burgesses, as may beassembled at Stirling, and there, in our name and behalf, publicly, andin their presence, to renounce the Crown, guidance, and government ofthis our kingdom of Scotland."

  The Queen here broke in with an air of extreme surprise. "How is this,my lords?" she said: "Are my ears turned rebels, that they deceive mewith sounds so extraordinary?--And yet it is no wonder that, havingconversed so long with rebellion, they should now force its languageupon my understanding. Say I am mistaken, my lords--say, for the honourof yourselves and the Scottish nobility, that my right trusty cousins ofLindesay and Ruthven, two barons of warlike fame and ancient line, havenot sought the prison-house of their kind mistress for such a purpose asthese words seem to imply. Say, for the sake of honour and loyalty, thatmy ears have deceived me."

  "No, madam," said Ruthven gravely, "your ears do _not_ deceive you--theydeceived you when they were closed against the preachers of theevangele, and the honest advice of your faithful subjects; and whenthey were ever open to flattery of pickthanks and traitors, foreigncubiculars and domestic minions. The land may no longer brook the ruleof one who cannot rule herself; wherefore, I pray you to comply with thelast remaining wish of your subjects and counsellors, and spare yourselfand us the farther agitation of matter so painful."

  "And is this _all_ my loving subjects require of me, my lord?" saidMary, in a tone of bitter irony. "Do they really stint themselves to theeasy boon that I should yield up the crown, which is mine by birthright,to an infant which is scarcely more than a year old--fling down mysceptre, and take up a distaff--Oh no! it is too little for them toask--That other roll of parchment contains something harder to becomplied with, and which may more highly task my readiness to complywith the petitions of my lieges."

  "This parchment," answered Ruthven, in the same tone of inflexiblegravity, and unfolding the instrument as he spoke, "is one by which yourgrace constitutes your nearest in blood, and the most honourable andtrustworthy of your subjects, James, Earl of Murray, Regent of thekingdom during the minority of the young King. He already holds theappointment from the Secret Council."

  The Queen gave a sort of shriek, and, clapping her hands together,exclaimed, "Comes the arrow out of his quiver?--out of my brother'sbow?--Alas! I looked for his return from France as my sole, at least myreadiest, chance of deliverance.--And yet, when I heard he had assumedthe government, I guessed he would shame to wield it in my name."

  "I must pray your answer, madam," said Lord Ruthven, "to the demand ofthe Council."

  "The demand of the Council!" said the Queen; "say rather the demand of aset of robbers, impatient to divide the spoil they have seized. To sucha demand, and sent by the mouth of a traitor, whose scalp, but for mywomanish mercy, should long since have stood on the city gates, Mary ofScotland has no answer."

  "I trust, madam," said Lord Ruthven, "my being unacceptable to yourpresence will not add to your obduracy of resolution. It m
ay becomeyou to remember that the death of the minion, Rizzio, cost the houseof Ruthven its head and leader. My father, more worthy than a wholeprovince of such vile sycophants, died in exile, and broken-hearted."

  The Queen clasped her hands on her face, and, resting her arms on thetable, stooped down her head and wept so bitterly, that the tears wereseen to find their way in streams between the white and slender fingerswith which she endeavoured to conceal them.

  "My lords," said Sir Robert Melville, "this is too much rigour. Underyour lordship's favour, we came hither, not to revive old griefs, but tofind the mode of avoiding new ones."

  "Sir Robert Melville," said Ruthven, "we best know for what purpose wewere delegated hither, and wherefore you were somewhat unnecessarilysent to attend us."

  "Nay, by my hand," said Lord Lindesay, "I know not why we were cumberedwith the good knight, unless he comes in place of the lump of sugarwhich pothicars put into their wholesome but bitter medicaments, toplease a froward child--a needless labour, methinks, where men have themeans to make them swallow the physic otherwise."

  "Nay, my lords," said Melville, "ye best know your own secretinstructions. I conceive I shall best obey mine in striving to mediatebetween her Grace and you."

  "Be silent, Sir Robert Melville," said the Queen, arising, and her facestill glowing with agitation as she spoke. "My kerchief, Fleming--Ishame that traitors should have power to move me thus.--Tell me, proudlords," she added, wiping away the tears as she spoke, "by what earthlywarrant can liege subjects pretend to challenge the rights of ananointed Sovereign--to throw off the allegiance they have vowed, and totake away the crown from the head on which Divine warrant hath placedit?"

  "Madam," said Ruthven, "I will deal plainly with you. Your reign, fromthe dismal field of Pinkie-cleugh, when you were a babe in the cradle,till now that ye stand a grown dame before us, hath been such a tragedyof losses, disasters, civil dissensions, and foreign wars, that the likeis not to be found in our chronicles. The French and English have, withone consent, made Scotland the battle-field on which to fight out theirown ancient quarrel.--For ourselves every man's hand hath beenagainst his brother, nor hath a year passed over without rebellion andslaughter, exile of nobles, and oppressing of the commons. We may endureit no longer, and therefore, as a prince, to whom God hath refused thegift of hearkening to wise counsel, and on whose dealings and projectsno blessing hath ever descended, we pray you to give way to other ruleand governance of the land, that a remnant may yet be saved to thisdistracted realm."

  "My lord," said Mary, "it seems to me that you fling on my unhappy anddevoted head those evils, which, with far more justice, I may imputeto your own turbulent, wild, and untameable dispositions--the franticviolence with which you, the Magnates of Scotland, enter into feudsagainst each other, sticking at no cruelty to gratify your wrath, takingdeep revenge for the slightest offences, and setting at defiance thosewise laws which your ancestors made for stanching of such cruelty,rebelling against the lawful authority, and bearing yourselves as ifthere were no king in the land; or rather as if each were king in hisown premises. And now you throw the blame on me--on me, whose life hasbeen embittered--whose sleep has been broken--whose happiness has beenwrecked by your dissensions. Have I not myself been obliged to traversewilds and mountains, at the head of a few faithful followers, tomaintain peace and put down oppression? Have I not worn harness on myperson, and carried pistols at my saddle; fain to lay aside the softnessof a woman, and the dignity of a Queen, that I might show an example tomy followers?"

  "We grant, madam," said Lindesay, "that the affrays occasioned by yourmisgovernment, may sometimes have startled you in the midst of a masqueor galliard; or it may be that such may have interrupted the idolatry ofthe mass, or the jesuitical counsels of some French ambassador. But thelongest and severest journey which your Grace has taken in my memory,was from Hawick to Hermitage Castle; and whether it was for the weal ofthe state, or for your own honour, rests with your Grace's conscience."

  The Queen turned to him with inexpressible sweetness of tone and manner,and that engaging look which Heaven had assigned her, as if to showthat the choicest arts to win men's affections may be given in vain."Lindesay," she said, "you spoke not to me in this stern tone, and withsuch scurril taunt, yon fair summer evening, when you and I shot at thebutts against the Earl of Mar and Mary Livingstone, and won of them theevening's collation, in the privy garden of Saint Andrews. The Masterof Lindesay was then my friend, and vowed to be my soldier. How I haveoffended the Lord of Lindesay I know not, unless honours have changedmanners."

  Hardhearted as he was, Lindesay seemed struck with this unexpectedappeal, but almost instantly replied, "Madam, it is well known thatyour Grace could in those days make fools of whomever approached you.I pretend not to have been wiser than others. But gayer men and bettercourtiers soon jostled aside my rude homage, and I think your Gracecannot but remember times, when my awkward attempts to take the mannersthat pleased you, were the sport of the court-popinjays, the Marys andthe Frenchwomen."

  "My lord, I grieve if I have offended you through idle gaiety," saidthe Queen; "and can but say it was most unwittingly done. You are fullyrevenged; for through gaiety," she said with a sigh, "will I neveroffend any one more."

  "Our time is wasting, madam," said Lord Ruthven; "I must pray yourdecision on this weighty matter which I have submitted to you."

  "What, my lord!" said the Queen, "upon the instant, and without amoment's time to deliberate?--Can the Council, as they term themselves,expect this of me?"

  "Madam," replied Ruthven, "the Council hold the opinion, that since thefatal term which passed betwixt the night of King Henry's murder and theday of Carberry-hill, your Grace should have held you prepared for themeasure now proposed, as the easiest escape from your numerous dangersand difficulties."

  "Great God!" exclaimed the Queen; "and is it as a boon that you proposeto me, what every Christian king ought to regard as a loss of honourequal to the loss of life!--You take from me my crown, my power, mysubjects, my wealth, my state. What, in the name of every saint, can youoffer, or do you offer, in requital of my compliance?"

  "We give you pardon," answered Ruthven, sternly--"we give you space andmeans to spend your remaining life in penitence and seclusion--we giveyou time to make your peace with Heaven, and to receive the pure Gospel,which you have ever rejected and persecuted."

  The Queen turned pale at the menace which this speech, as well asthe rough and inflexible tones of the speaker, seemed distinctly toinfer--"And if I do not comply with your request so fiercely urged, mylord, what then follows?"

  She said this in a voice in which female and natural fear was contendingwith the feelings of insulted dignity.--There was a pause, as if no onecared to return to the question a distinct answer. At length Ruthvenspoke: "There is little need to tell to your Grace, who are well readboth in the laws and in the chronicles of the realm, that murder andadultery are crimes for which ere now queens themselves have suffereddeath."

  "And where, my lord, or how, found you an accusation so horrible,against her who stands before you?" said Queen Mary. "The foul andodious calumnies which have poisoned the general mind of Scotland, andhave placed me a helpless prisoner in your hands, are surely no proof ofguilt?"

  "We need look for no farther proof," replied the stern Lord Ruthven,"than the shameless marriage betwixt the widow of the murdered and theleader of the band of murderers!--They that joined hands in the fatedmonth of May, had already united hearts and counsel in the deed whichpreceded that marriage but a few brief weeks."

  "My lord, my lord!" said the Queen, eagerly, "remember well there weremore consents than mine to that fatal union, that most unhappy act ofa most unhappy life. The evil steps adopted by sovereigns are oftenthe suggestion of bad counsellors; but these counsellors are worse thanfiends who tempt and betray, if they themselves are the first to calltheir unfortunate princes to answer for the consequences of their ownadvice.--Heard ye never of a bond by the nobles,
my lords, recommendingthat ill-fated union to the ill-fated Mary? Methinks, were it carefullyexamined, we should see that the names of Morton and of Lindesay, andof Ruthven, may be found in that bond, which pressed me to marry thatunhappy man.--Ah! stout and loyal Lord Herries, who never knew guileor dishonour, you bent your noble knee to me in vain, to warn me of mydanger, and wert yet the first to draw thy good sword in my cause whenI suffered for neglecting thy counsel! Faithful knight and true noble,what a difference betwixt thee and those counsellors of evil, who nowthreaten my life for having fallen into the snares they spread for me!"

  "Madam," said Ruthven, "we know that you are an orator; and perhaps forthat reason the Council has sent hither men, whose converse hath beenmore with the wars, than with the language of the schools or the cabalsof state. We but desire to know if, on assurance of life and honour, yewill demit the rule of this kingdom of Scotland?"

  "And what warrant have I," said the Queen, "that ye will keep treatywith me, if I should barter my kingly estate for seclusion, and leave toweep in secret?"

  "Our honour and our word, madam," answered Ruthven.

  "They are too slight and unsolid pledges, my lord," said the Queen; "addat least a handful of thistle-down to give them weight in the balance."

  "Away, Ruthven," said Lindesay; "she was ever deaf to counsel, save ofslaves and sycophants; let her remain by her refusal, and abide by it!"

  "Stay, my lord," said Sir Robert Melville, "or rather permit me to havebut a few minutes' private audience with her Grace. If my presence withyou could avail aught, it must be as a mediator--do not, I conjure you,leave the castle, or break off the conference, until I bring you wordhow her Grace shall finally stand disposed."

  "We will remain in the hall," said Lindesay, "for half an hour's space;but in despising our words and our pledge of honour, she has touched thehonour of my name--let her look herself to the course she has to pursue.If the half hour should pass away without her determining to comply withthe demands of the nation, her career will be brief enough."

  With little ceremony the two nobles left the apartment, traversed thevestibule, and descended the winding-stairs, the clash of Lindesay'shuge sword being heard as it rang against each step in his descent.George Douglas followed them, after exchanging with Melville a gestureof surprise and sympathy.

  As soon as they were gone, the Queen, giving way to grief, fear, andagitation, threw herself into the seat, wrung her hands, and seemed toabandon herself to despair. Her female attendants, weeping themselves,endeavoured yet to pray her to be composed, and Sir Robert Melville,kneeling at her feet, made the same entreaty. After giving way to apassionate burst of sorrow, she at length said to Melville, "Kneel notto me, Melville--mock me not with the homage of the person, when theheart is far away--Why stay you behind with the deposed, the condemned?her who has but few hours perchance to live? You have been favoured aswell as the rest; why do you continue the empty show of gratitude andthankfulness any longer than they?"

  "Madam," said Sir Robert Melville, "so help me Heaven at my need, myheart is as true to you as when you were in your highest place."

  "True to me! true to me!" repeated the Queen, with some scorn; "tush,Melville, what signifies the truth which walks hand in hand with myenemies' falsehood?--thy hand and thy sword have never been so wellacquainted that I can trust thee in aught where manhood is required--Oh,Seyton, for thy bold father, who is both wise, true, and valiant!"

  Roland Graeme could withstand no longer his earnest desire to offer hisservices to a princess so distressed and so beautiful. "If one sword,"he said, "madam, can do any thing to back the wisdom of this gravecounsellor, or to defend your rightful cause, here is my weapon, andhere is my hand ready to draw and use it." And raising his sword withone hand, he laid the other upon the hilt.

  As he thus held up the weapon, Catherine Seyton exclaimed, "MethinksI see a token from my father, madam;" and immediately crossing theapartment, she took Roland Graeme by the skirt of the cloak, and askedhim earnestly whence he had that sword.

  The page answered with surprise, "Methinks this is no presence inwhich to jest--Surely, damsel, you yourself best know whence and how Iobtained the weapon."

  "Is this a time for folly?" said Catherine Seyton; "unsheathe the swordinstantly!"

  "If the Queen commands me," said the youth, looking towards his royalmistress.

  "For shame, maiden!" said the Queen; "wouldst thou instigate the poorboy to enter into useless strife with the two most approved soldiers inScotland?"

  "In your Grace's cause," replied the page, "I will venture my life uponthem!" And as he spoke, he drew his weapon partly from the sheath, and apiece of parchment, rolled around the blade, fell out and dropped on thefloor. Catherine Seyton caught it up with eager haste.

  "It is my father's hand-writing," she said, "and doubtless conveys hisbest duteous advice to your Majesty; I know that it was prepared to besent in this weapon, but I expected another messenger."

  "By my faith, fair one," thought Roland, "and if you knew not that I hadsuch a secret missive about me, I was yet more ignorant."

  The Queen cast her eye upon the scroll, and remained a few minuteswrapped in deep thought. "Sir Robert Melville," she at length said,"this scroll advises me to submit myself to necessity, and to subscribethe deeds these hard men have brought with them, as one who gives way tothe natural fear inspired by the threats of rebels and murderers. You,Sir Robert, are a wise man, and Seyton is both sagacious and brave.Neither, I think, would mislead me in this matter."

  "Madam," said Melville, "if I have not the strength of body of the LordHerries or Seyton, I will yield to neither in zeal for your Majesty'sservice. I cannot fight for you like these lords, but neither of them ismore willing to die for your service."

  "I believe it, my old and faithful counsellor," said the Queen, "andbelieve me, Melville, I did thee but a moment's injustice. Read what myLord Seyton hath written to us, and give us thy best counsel."

  He glanced over the parchment, and instantly replied,--"Oh! my dear androyal mistress, only treason itself could give you other advice thanLord Seyton has here expressed. He, Herries, Huntly, the Englishambassador Throgmorton, and others, your friends, are all alike ofopinion, that whatever deeds or instruments you execute within thesewalls, must lose all force and effect, as extorted from your Grace byduresse, by sufferance of present evil, and fear of men, and harm toensue on your refusal. Yield, therefore, to the tide, and be assured,that in subscribing what parchments they present to you, you bindyourself to nothing, since your act of signature wants that which alonecan make it valid, the free will of the granter."

  "Ay, so says my Lord Seyton," replied Mary; "yet methinks, for thedaughter of so long a line of sovereigns to resign her birthright,because rebels press upon her with threats, argues little of royalty,and will read ill for the fame of Mary in future chronicles. Tush! SirRobert Melville, the traitors may use black threats and bold words, butthey will not dare to put their hands forth on our person."

  "Alas! madam, they have already dared so far and incurred such peril bythe lengths which they have gone, that they are but one step from theworst and uttermost."

  "Surely," said the Queen, her fears again predominating, "Scottishnobles would not lend themselves to assassinate a helpless woman?"

  "Bethink you, madam," he replied, "what horrid spectacles have been seenin our day; and what act is so dark, that some Scottish hand has notbeen found to dare it? Lord Lindesay, besides his natural sullenness andhardness of temper, is the near kinsman of Henry Darnley, and Ruthvenhas his own deep and dangerous plans. The Council, besides, speak ofproofs by writ and word, of a casket with letters--of I know not what."

  "Ah! good Melville," answered the Queen, "were I as sure of theeven-handed integrity of my judges, as of my own innocence--and yet----"

  "Oh! pause, madam," said Melville; "even innocence must sometimes for aseason stoop to injurious blame. Besides, you are here--"

  He looked round, and paused. br />
  "Speak out, Melville," said the Queen, "never one approached my personwho wished to work me evil; and even this poor page, whom I haveto-day seen for the first time in my life, I can trust safely with yourcommunication."

  "Nay, madam," answered Melville, "in such emergence, and he being thebearer of Lord Seyton's message, I will venture to say, before him andthese fair ladies, whose truth and fidelity I dispute not--I say I willventure to say, that there are other modes besides that of open trial,by which deposed sovereigns often die; and that, as Machiavel saith,there is but one step betwixt a king's prison and his grave."

  "Oh I were it but swift and easy for the body," said the unfortunatePrincess, "were it but a safe and happy change for the soul, the womanlives not that would take the step so soon as I--But, alas! Melville,when we think of death, a thousand sins, which we have trod asworms beneath our feet, rise up against us as flaming serpents. Mostinjuriously do they accuse me of aiding Darnley's death; yet, blessedLady! I afforded too open occasion for the suspicion--I espousedBothwell."

  "Think not of that now, madam," said Melville, "think rather of theimmediate mode of saving yourself and son. Comply with the presentunreasonable demands, and trust that better times will shortly arrive."

  "Madam," said Roland Graeme, "if it pleases you that I should do so, Iwill presently swim through the lake, if they refuse me other conveyanceto the shore; I will go to the courts successively of England, France,and Spain, and will show you have subscribed these vile instruments fromno stronger impulse than the fear of death, and I will do battle againstthem that say otherwise."

  The Queen turned her round, and with one of those sweet smiles which,during the era of life's romance, overpay every risk, held her handtowards Roland, but without "speaking a word. He kneeled reverently, andkissed it, and Melville again resumed his plea.

  "Madam," he said, "time presses, and you must not let those boats,which I see they are even now preparing, put forth on the lake. Here areenough of witnesses--your ladies--this bold youth--myself, when it canserve your cause effectually, for I would not hastily stand committed inthis matter--but even without me here is evidence enough to show, thatyou have yielded to the demands of the Council through force and fear,but from no sincere and unconstrained assent. Their boats are alreadymanned for their return--oh! permit your old servant to recall them."

  "Melville," said the Queen, "thou art an ancient courtier--when didstthou ever know a Sovereign Prince recall to his presence subjects whohad parted from him on such terms as those on which these envoys ofthe Council left us, and who yet were recalled without submission orapology?--Let it cost me both life and crown, I will not again commandthem to my presence."

  "Alas! madam, that empty form should make a barrier! If I rightlyunderstand, you are not unwilling to listen to real and advantageouscounsel--but your scruple is saved--I hear them returning to ask yourfinal resolution. Oh! take the advice of the noble Seyton, and you mayonce more command those who now usurp a triumph over you. But hush! Ihear them in the vestibule."

  As he concluded speaking, George Douglas opened the door of theapartment, and marshalled in the two noble envoys.

  "We come, madam," said the Lord Ruthven, "to request your answer to theproposal of the Council."

  "Your final answer," said Lord Lindesay; "for with a refusal you mustcouple the certainty that you have precipitated your fate, and renouncedthe last opportunity of making peace with God, and ensuring your longerabode in the world."

  "My lords," said Mary, with inexpressible grace and dignity, "the evilswe cannot resist we must submit to--I will subscribe these parchmentswith such liberty of choice as my condition permits me. Were I on yondershore, with a fleet jennet and ten good and loyal knights around me,I would subscribe my sentence of eternal condemnation as soon as theresignation of my throne. But here, in the Castle of Lochleven, withdeep water around me--and you, my lords, beside me,--I have no freedomof choice.--Give me the pen, Melville, and bear witness to what I do,and why I do it."

  "It is our hope your Grace will not suppose yourself compelled by anyapprehensions from us," said the Lord Ruthven, "to execute what must beyour own voluntary deed."

  The Queen had already stooped towards the table, and placed theparchment before her, with the pen between her fingers, ready for theimportant act of signature. But when Lord Ruthven had done speaking, shelooked up, stopped short, and threw down the pen. "If," she said, "I amexpected to declare I give away my crown of free will, or otherwise thanbecause I am compelled to renounce it by the threat of worse evils tomyself and my subjects, I will not put my name to such an untruth--notto gain full possession of England, France, and Scotland!--all once myown, in possession, or by right."

  "Beware, madam," said Lindesay, and, snatching hold of the Queen's armwith his own gauntleted hand, he pressed it, in the rudeness of hispassion, more closely, perhaps, than he was himself aware of,--"bewarehow you contend with those who are the stronger, and have the mastery ofyour fate!"

  He held his grasp on her arm, bending his eyes on her with a sternand intimidating look, till both Ruthven and Melville cried shame; andDouglas, who had hitherto remained in a state of apparent apathy, hadmade a stride from the door, as if to interfere. The rude Baron thenquitted his hold, disguising the confusion which he really feltat having indulged his passion to such extent, under a sullen andcontemptuous smile.

  The Queen immediately began, with an expression of pain, to bare thearm which he had grasped, by drawing up the sleeve of her gown, and itappeared that his gripe had left the purple marks of his iron fingersupon her flesh--"My lord," she said, "as a knight and gentleman, youmight have spared my frail arm so severe a proof that you have thegreater strength on your side, and are resolved to use it--But I thankyou for it--it is the most decisive token of the terms on which thisday's business is to rest.--I draw you to witness, both lords andladies," she said, showing the marks of the grasp on her arm, "that Isubscribe these instruments in obedience to the sign manual of my Lordof Lindesay, which you may see imprinted on mine arm."

  [Footnote: The details of this remarkable event are, as given inthe preceding chapter, imaginary; but the outline of the events ishistorical. Sir Robert Lindesay, brother to the author of the Memoirs,was at first intrusted with the delicate commission of persuading theimprisoned queen to resign her crown. As he flatly refused to interfere,they determined to send the Lord Lindesay, one of the rudest and mostviolent of their own faction, with instructions, first to use fairpersuasions, and if these did not succeed, to enter into harder terms.Knox associates Lord Ruthven with Lindesay in this alarming commission.He was the son of that Lord Ruthven who was prime agent in the murderof Rizzio; and little mercy was to be expected from his conjunction withLindesay.

  The employment of such rude tools argued a resolution on the part ofthose who had the Queen's person in their power, to proceed to theutmost extremities, should they find Mary obstinate. To avoid thispressing danger, Sir Robert Melville was despatched by them toLochleven, carrying with him, concealed in the scabbard of his sword,letters to the Queen from the Earl of Athole, Maitland of Lethington,and even from Throgmorton, the English Ambassador, who was thenfavourable to the unfortunate Mary, conjuring her to yield to thenecessity of the times, and to subscribe such deeds as Lindesay shouldlay before her, without being startled by their tenor; and assuring herthat her doing so, in the state of captivity under which she was placed,would neither, in law, honour, nor conscience, be binding upon her whenshe should obtain her liberty. Submitting by the advice of one part ofher subjects to the menace of the others, and learning that Lindesaywas arrived in a boasting, that is, threatening humour, the Queen,"with some reluctancy, and with tears," saith Knox, subscribed one deedresigning her crown to her infant son, and another establishing the Earlof Murray regent. It seems agreed by historians that Lindesay behavedwith great brutality on the occasion. The deeds were signed 24th July,1567.]

  Lindesay would have spoken, but was restrained by his co
lleague Ruthven,who said to him, "Peace, my lord. Let the Lady Mary of Scotland ascribeher signature to what she will, it is our business to procure it, andcarry it to the Council. Should there be debate hereafter on the mannerin which it was adhibited, there will be time enough for it."

  Lindesay was silent accordingly, only muttering within his beard,"I meant not to hurt her; but I think women's flesh be as tender asnew-fallen snow."

  The Queen meanwhile subscribed the rolls of parchment with a hastyindifference, as if they had been matters of slight consequence, or ofmere formality. When she had performed this painful task, she arose,and, having curtsied to the lords, was about to withdraw to her chamber.Ruthven and Sir Robert Melville made, the first a formal reverence, thesecond an obeisance, in which his desire to acknowledge his sympathy wasobviously checked by the fear of appearing in the eyes of his colleaguestoo partial to his former mistress. But Lindesay stood motionless, evenwhen they were preparing to withdraw. At length, as if moved by a suddenimpulse, he walked round the table which had hitherto been betwixt themand the Queen, kneeled on one knee, took her hand, kissed it, let itfall, and arose--"Lady," he said, "thou art a noble creature, eventhough thou hast abused God's choicest gifts. I pay that devotion to thymanliness of spirit, which I would not have paid to the power thou hastlong undeservedly wielded--I kneel to Mary Stewart, not to the Queen."

  "The Queen and Mary Stewart pity thee alike, Lindesay," saidMary--"alike thee pity, and they forgive thee. An honoured soldier hadstthou been by a king's side--leagued with rebels, what art thou but agood blade in the hands of a ruffian?--Farewell, my Lord Ruthven, thesmoother but the deeper traitor.--Farewell, Melville--Mayest thou findmasters that can understand state policy better, and have the meansto reward it more richly, than Mary Stewart.--Farewell, George ofDouglas--make your respected grand-dame comprehend that we would bealone for the remainder of the day--God wot, we have need to collect ourthoughts."

  All bowed and withdrew; but scarce had they entered the vestibule, ereRuthven and Lindesay were at variance. "Chide not with me, Ruthven,"Lindesay was heard to say, in answer to something more indistinctlyurged by his colleague--"Chide not with me, for I will not brook it! Youput the hangman's office on me in this matter, and even the very hangmanhath leave to ask some pardon of those on whom he does his office. Iwould I had as deep cause to be this lady's friend as I have to be herenemy--thou shouldst see if I spared limb and life in her quarrel."

  "Thou art a sweet minion," said Ruthven, "to fight a lady's quarrel, andall for a brent brow and a tear in the eye! Such toys have been out ofthy thoughts this many a year."

  "Do me right, Ruthven," said Lindesay. "You are like a polished corsletof steel; it shines more gaudily, but it is not a whit softer--nay,it is five times harder than a Glasgow breastplate of hammered iron.Enough. We know each other."

  They descended the stairs, were heard to summon their boats, and theQueen signed to Roland Graeme to retire to the vestibule, and leave herwith her female attendants.