The Tower of London 57

The Tower of London 57

Elizabeth was seated in a small room, partially hung with arras, and over the chair she occupied, were placed the portraits of her sire, Henry the Eighth, and two of his wives, Anne Boleyn and Catharine of Arragon. Greatly surprised by the earl's visit, she immediately arose, and in an authoritative tone commanded him to withdraw.

 

"How is this \" she cried. "are you not content with what you have already done, but must add insult to perfidy !"

 

"Hear me, Elizabeth," said Courtenay, advancing towards her, and throwing himself on his knee. I am come to implore your forgiveness."

 

"You have my compassion, my lord," rejoined Elizabeth ; "but you shall not have my forgiveness. You have deeply deceived me."

 

"I have deceived myself," replied Courtenay.

 

"A paltry prevarication, and unworthy of you," observed the Princess, scornfully. "But I have endured this long enough. Arise, and leave me."

 

"I will _not_ leave you, Elizabeth," said Courtenay, "till I have explained the real motives of my conduct, and the real state of my feelings, which, when I have done, I am persuaded you will not judge me as harshly, as you do now."

 

"I do not desire to hear them," replied tlio Princess. "But since you are determined to speak, be brief."

 

"During my captivity in this fortress," began Courtenay, "when I scarcely hoped for release, and when I was an utter stranger, except from description, to the beauties of your sex, I had certain vague and visionary notions of female loveliness, which I have never since found realized except in yourself."

 

Elizabeth uttered an exclamation of impatience.

 

"Do not interrupt me," proceeded Courtenay. "All I wish to show is, that long before I had seen you, my heart was predisposed to love you. On my release from imprisonment, it was made evident in many ways, that the Queen, your sister, regarded me with favourable eyes. Dazzled by the distinction--as who would not be?--I fancied I returned her passion. But I knew not then what love was--nor was it till I was bound in this thraldom that I became acquainted with its pangs."

 

"This you have said before, my lord," rejoined Elizabeth, struggling against her emotion. "And if you had not, it is too late to say it now."

 

"Your pardon, dearest Elizabeth," rejoined Courtenay, "for such you will ever be to me. I know I do not deserve your forgiveness. But I know, also, that I shall not the less on that account obtain it. Hear the truth from me, and judge me as you think proper. Since I knew that I had gained an interest in your eyes, I never could love your sister. Her throne had no longer any temptation for me--her attachment inspired me with disgust. You were, and still _are_, the sole possessor of my heart." "Still are ! my lord," exclaimed Elizabeth, indignantly. "And you are about to wed the Queen. Say no more, or _my_ pity for you will be changed into contempt."

 

"It is my fate," replied the earl. "Oh ! if you knew what the struggle has cost me, to sacrifice love at the shrine of ambition, you would indeed pity me."

 

"My lord," said Elizabeth, proudly, "if you have no respect for me, at least have some for yourself, and cease these unworthy lamentations."

 

"Tell me you no longer love me--tell me you despise--hate me--anything to reconcile myself to my present lot," cried Courtenay.

 

"Were I to say I no longer loved you, I should belie my heart," rejoined Elizabeth; "for, unfortunately for my peace of mind, I have formed a passion which I cannot conquer. But were I also to say that your abject conduct does not inspire me with contempt--with scorn for you, I should speak falsely. Hear me, in my turn, my lord. To-morrow, I shall solicit permission from the Queen to retire from the court altogether, and I shall not return till my feelings towards yourself are wholly changed." "Say not so," cried Courtenay. "I will forego all the brilliant expectations held out to me by Mary. I cannot endure to part with you."

 

J(|4 (J'te uKiuj.imij') ltiu;u,t.niy fuKyj-

 

 

 

"You have gone too far to retreat, my lord," said Elizabeth. "You are affianced to my sister."

 

"Not so," replied Courtenay, "and I never will be. When I came hither, it was to implore your forgiveness, and to take leave of you for ever. But I find that wholly impossible. Let us fly from this fortress, and find either in a foreign land, or in some obscure corner of this kingdom, a happiness, which a crown could not confer."

 

As he pronounced these words with all the ardour of genuine passion, he pressed her hand to his lips. Elizabeth did not withdraw it.

 

"Save me from this great crime," he cried--"save me from wedding one whom I have never loved--save me from an union, which my soul abhors."

 

"Are you sincere?" asked Elizabeth, much moved.

 

"On my soul I am," replied Courtenay fervently. "Will you fly with me--this night--this hour,--now?"

 

 

 

[Ill 0279]

 

 

 

"I will answer that question," cried a voice, which struck them both as if a thunderbolt had fallen at their feet. "I will answer that question," cried Mary, forcibly throwing aside the arras and gazing at them with eyes that literally seemed to flash fire,--"she will _not._"

 

"Had I not heard this with my own ears," she continued in a terrible tone, addressing her faithless lover, who still remained in a kneeling posture, regarding her with a look of mingled shame and defiance--"had I not heard this with my own ears, and seen it with my own eyes, I could not have believed it ! Perfidious villain ! you have deceived us both. . But you shall feel what it is to incur the resentment of a queen--and that queen the daughter of Henry the Eighth. Come in, sir," she added to some one behind the arras, and Simon Renard immediately stepped forth. "As I owe the discovery of the Earl of Devonshire's perfidy to you, the least I can do is to let you witness his disgrace."

 

"I will not attempt to defend myself, gracious madam," said Courtenay, rising.

 

"Defend yourself !" echoed the Queen, bitterly. "Not a word of your conversation to the Princess has escaped my ears. I was there--behind that curtain--almost as soon as you entered her chamber. I was acquainted with your treachery by this gentleman. I disbelieved him. But I soon found he spoke the truth. A masked staircase enabled me to approach you unobserved. I have heard all--all, traitor, all."

 

"To play the eaves-dropper was worthy of Simon Renard," returned Courtenay, with a look of deadly hatred at the ambassador, "but scarcely, I think, befitting the Queen of England."

 

"Where the Queen of England has unworthy persons to deal with, she must resort to unworthy means to detect them," returned Mary. "I am deeply indebted to M. Renard for his service--more deeply than I can express. An hour more, and

 

it had been too late. Had I affianced myself to you, I should have considered the engagement binding. As it is, I can unscrupulously break it. I am greatly beholden to you, sir."

 

"I am truly rejoiced to be the instrument of preventing your majesty from entering into this degrading alliance," said Renard.--"Had it taken place, you would have unceasingly repented it." "For you, minion," continued the Queen, turning to Elizabeth, who had looked silently on, "I have more pity than anger. You have been equally his dupe."

 

"I do not desire your highness's pity," rejoined the Princess, haughtily. "Your own case is more deserving of compassion than mine."

 

"Ah! God's death! derided!" cried the Queen, stamping her foot with indignation. "Summon the guard, M. Renard. I will place them both in confinement. Why am I not obeyed?" she continued, seeing the ambassador hesitated.

 

"Do nothing at this moment, I implore you, gracious madam." said Renard, in a low voice. "Disgrace were better than imprisonment. You punish the Earl sufficiently in casting him off."

 

"Obey me, sir," vociferated Mary, furiously, "or I will fetch the guard myself. An outraged woman may tamely submit to her wrongs--an outraged Queen can revenge them. Heaven be thanked ! I have the power to do so, as I have the will. Down on your knees, Edward Courtenay, whom I have made Earl of Devonshire, and _would_ have made King of England--on your knees, I say. Now, my lord, your sword."

 

"It is here," replied the Earl, presenting it to her, "and I entreat your majesty to sheathe it in my bosom."

 

"His crime does not amount to high treason," whispered Renard, "nor can your highness do more than disgrace him."

 

"The guard ! the guard, sir ! '' cried Mary, authoritatively. "Our father, Henry the Eighth, whose lineaments frown upon us from that wall, had not authority for all he did. He was an absolute king, and we are absolute queen. Again, I say, the guard ! and bid Sir Henry Bedingfeld attend us."

 

"Your majesty shall be obeyed," replied Renard, departing. "Do with me what you please, gracious madam," said Courtenay, as soon as they were alone. "My life is at your disposal. But, I beseech you, do not visit my faults upon the Princess Elizabeth. If your majesty tracked me hither, you must be well aware that my presence was as displeasing to her as it could be to yourself."

 

"I will not be sheltered under this plea," replied Elizabeth, whose anger was roused by her sister's imperious conduct. "That the interview was unsought on my part, your highness well knows. But that I lent a willing ear to the Earl of Devonshire's suit is equally true. And if your highness rejects him, I see nothing to prevent my accepting him."

 

"This to my face !" cried Mary, in extremity of indignation.

 

"And wherefore not ?" returned Elizabeth, maliciously.

 

"Anger me no further," cried Mary, "or by my father's soul ! I will not answer for your head." Her manner was so authoritative, and her looks so terrible, that even Elizabeth was awed.

 

"Again," interposed Courtenay, humbly, "let me, who am the sole cause of your majesty's most just displeasure, bear the weight of it. The Princess Elizabeth, I repeat, is not to blame."