"
"This parchment," answered Ruthven, in the same tone of inflexible
gravity, and unfolding the instrument as he spoke, "is one by which
your grace constitutes your nearest in blood, and the most honourable
and trustworthy of your subjects, James, Earl of Murray, Regent of the
kingdom during the minority of the young King. He already holds the
appointment 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's
bow?--Alas! I looked for his return from France as my sole, at least
my readiest, chance of deliverance.--And yet, when I heard he had
assumed the government, I guessed he would shame to wield it in my
name."
"I must pray your answer, madam," said Lord Ruthven, "to the demand
of the Council."
"The demand of the Council!" said the Queen; "say rather the demand of
a set of robbers, impatient to divide the spoil they have seized. To
such a demand, and sent by the mouth of a traitor, whose scalp, but
for my womanish mercy, should long since have stood on the city gates,
Mary of Scotland has no answer."
"I trust, madam," said Lord Ruthven, "my being unacceptable to your
presence will not add to your obduracy of resolution. It may become
you to remember that the death of the minion, Rizzio, cost the house
of Ruthven its head and leader. My father, more worthy than a whole
province of such vile sycophants, died in exile, and broken-hearted.
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