Mary herself caught the infection as if by a sort of
magnetic influence, and raising herself from her bed, without being
able to withdraw her eyes from those of Magdalen, waited as if for the
oracle of a Pythoness. She waited not long, for no sooner had the
enthusiast collected herself, than her gaze became instantly steady,
her features assumed a determined energy, and when she began to speak,
the words flowed from her with a profuse fluency, which might have
passed for inspiration, and which, perhaps, she herself mistook for
such.
"Arise," she said, "Queen of France and of England! Arise, Lioness of
Scotland, and be not dismayed though the nets of the hunters have
encircled thee! Stoop not to feign with the false ones, whom thou
shall soon meet in the field. The issue of battle is with the God of
armies, but by battle thy cause shall be tried. Lay aside, then, the
arts of lower mortals, and assume those which become a Queen! True
defender of the only true faith, the armoury of heaven is open to
thee! Faithful daughter of the Church, take the keys of St. Peter, to
bind and to loose!--Royal Princess of the land, take the sword of St.
Paul, to smite and to shear! There is darkness in thy destiny;--but
not in these towers, not under the rule of their haughty mistress,
shall that destiny be closed--In other lands the lioness may crouch to
the power of the tigress, but not in her own--not in Scotland shall
the Queen of Scotland long remain captive--nor is the fate of the
royal Stuart in the hands of the traitor Douglas.
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