"
The Queen clasped her hands on her face, and, resting her arms on the
table, stooped down her head and wept so bitterly, that the tears were
seen to find their way in streams between the white and slender
fingers with which she endeavoured to conceal them.
"My lords," said Sir Robert Melville, "this is too much rigour. Under
your lordship's favour, we came hither, not to revive old griefs, but
to find the mode of avoiding new ones."
"Sir Robert Melville," said Ruthven, "we best know for what purpose we
were delegated hither, and wherefore you were somewhat unnecessarily
sent to attend us."
"Nay, by my hand," said Lord Lindesay, "I know not why we were
cumbered with the good knight, unless he comes in place of the lump of
sugar which pothicars put into their wholesome but bitter medicaments,
to please a froward child--a needless labour, methinks, where men have
the means to make them swallow the physic otherwise."
"Nay, my lords," said Melville, "ye best know your own secret
instructions. I conceive I shall best obey mine in striving to
mediate between her Grace and you."
"Be silent, Sir Robert Melville," said the Queen, arising, and her
face still glowing with agitation as she spoke. "My kerchief,
Fleming--I shame that traitors should have power to move me
thus.--Tell me, proud lords," she added, wiping away the tears as she
spoke, "by what earthly warrant can liege subjects pretend to
challenge the rights of an anointed Sovereign--to throw off the
allegiance they have vowed, and to take away the crown from the head
on which Divine warrant hath placed it?"
"Madam," said Ruthven, "I will deal plainly with you.
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