Chapter the Thirty-Second.
It is the curse of kings to be attended
By slaves, who take their humours for a warrant
To break into the bloody house of life,
And on the winking of authority
To understand a law.
KING JOHN.
The Lady of Lochleven sat alone in her chamber, endeavouring with
sincere but imperfect zeal, to fix her eyes and her attention on the
black-lettered Bible which lay before her, bound in velvet and
embroidery, and adorned with massive silver clasps and knosps. But she
found her utmost efforts unable to withdraw her mind from the
resentful recollection of what had last night passed betwixt her and
the Queen, in which the latter had with such bitter taunt reminded her
of her early and long-repented transgression.
"Why," she said, "should I resent so deeply that another reproaches me
with that which I have never ceased to make matter of blushing to
myself? and yet, why should this woman, who reaps--at least, has
reaped--the fruits of my folly, and has jostled my son aside from the
throne, why should she, in the face of all my domestics, and of her
own, dare to upbraid me with my shame? Is she not in my power? Does
she not fear me? Ha! wily tempter, I will wrestle with thee strongly,
and with better suggestions than my own evil heart can supply!"
She again took up the sacred volume, and was endeavouring to fix her
attention on its contents, when she was disturbed by a tap at the door
of the room.
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