The falling off of his friends threw the weight of the battle upon Knox. In 'the Parliament time,' when the Lords, thinking then only of the Austrian Charles, had been congratulating one another on the great match intended for their Queen, Knox rose in the pulpit at St Giles's and told them all 'that whenever they, professing the Lord Jesus, consented that a Papist should be head of their sovereign, they did as far as in them lay to banish Christ from the realm; they would bring God's vengeance on their country, a plague on themselves, and perchance small comfort to their sovereign.' It was language which should not have been needed, for it was language which they should themselves have used. It was language which with the necessary change of diction any English statesman would have used from the Revolution till the present day. It contained but a plain political truth of which Knox happened to be the exponent. Mary recognized her enemy. Him alone she had failed to work upon, and believing herself sure of the Lords she gave her anger its course. In imagination Queen of Scotland, England, Ireland, Spain, Flanders, Naples, and the Indies-in the full tide of hope and with the prize almost in her hands, she was in no humour to let a heretic preacher step between her and the soaring flights of her ambition. She sent for Knox, and her voice shaking between tears and passion, she said that never had prince been handled as she; she had borne his bitterness, she had admitted him to her presence, she had endured to be reprimanded, and yet she could not be quit of him; 'she vowed to God she would be avenged.' Quiet, collected-seeing through and through her, yet with a sound northern courtesy, the Reformer answered that when it pleased God to open her eyes she would see that he had done nothing to offend her; in private he had been silent; 'in the preaching place' he must obey God Almighty. 'But what,' she asked, 'have you to do with my marriage?' He said his duty was to preach the Evangel: the nobility were so much addicted to her affections that they had forgotten their duty, and he was therefore bound to remind them of it. 'But what,' she repeated, 'have you to do with my marriage? what are you within this commonwealth ?' 'A subject born within the same, madam,' he replied; ' and one whose vocation and conscience demands plainness of speech; and therefore, madam,' he went on, 'I say to yourself what I spake in yonder public place— whenever the nobility shall consent that you be subject to an unfaithful husband, they renounce Christ and betray the realm.' The Queen again sobbed violently. Knox stood silent till she had collected herself. He then continued-Madam, in God's presence I speak; I never delighted in the weeping of any of God's creatures; yea, I can scarcely abide the tears of my own boys whom my own hand corrects; but seeing I have but spoken the truth as my vocation craves of me, I must sustain your Majesty's tears rather than hurt my conscience.' Soon after this conversation Randolph brought Elizabeth's message. In his account of the interview he gives a noticeable sketch of Mary Stuart's personal habits. Active and energetic when occasion required, this all-accomplished woman abandoned herself to intervals of graceful self-indulgence. Without illness or imagination of it she would lounge for days in bed, rising only at night for dancing or music; and there she reclined with some light delicate French robe carelessly draped about her, surrounded by her ladies, her council, and her courtiers, receiving ambassadors and transacting business of State. It was in this condition that Randolph found her. She affected the utmost cordiality; she listened graciously to his communication; she professed herself grateful for Elizabeth's interest in her; she desired him to be cautious to whom he spoke, and referred him for her answer to Maitland and Murray. But with all her address she could not conceal from him that more was intended than she allowed to appear. Her want of interest in the Austrian marriage was evident, and Randolph himself feared 'she might be more Spanish than Imperial.' A month later John Knox had discovered the secret and made haste to tell Cecil what was impending. It was Mary's eyes were fixed. sented to give her his son. no Austrian prince on whom The King of Spain had con The Queen of France offered 1 Randolph to Cecil, September 4: Scotch MSS. Rolls House. her the hand of Charles the Ninth. She would take Don Carlos if Philip kept his word. failed her she would take the French King. The majority of her council had consented to what would be their own destruction, and 'the greater part would before long draw the better after them.' The Queen of England would be amused with smooth answers; but the mask would soon be laid aside. There was still hope of the constancy of the Earl of Murray. But if Murray followed the rest 'the rage of the storm would overthrow the force of the strongest '-'all through the inordinate affection of her that was born to be a plague to the realm.' 'Thus,' Knox concluded, 'you have the plainness of my troubled heart; use it as ye will answer to God and as ye tender the commonwealth; the Eternal assist you with His Spirit."1 In the midst of these encompassing perils Elizabeth bore herself bravely. The death October. December. rate in London at the end of December was still two hundred a week; the country was smarting under the disaster at Havre; the French difficulty was likely to lead to a general war' in which Spain would take part; and Mary Stuart married to a Catholic prince formed the 1 Knox to Cecil, October 5 | tween us and the French King ere Scotch MSS. A postscript adds- it be long. God send grace that 'The Inch between Leith and King- King Philip's subjects be not also horn is left void. What strange our enemies, for we suspect as much.' fowl shall first alight there God-Francis Chaloner to Sir Thomas knoweth.' 24 Chaloner, December 18: Spanish By many intelligences here, I MSS. Rolls House. see none other but war to ensue be ominous centre round which the clouds were forming. Yet Elizabeth to the world appeared to be given up to amusement, caring for nothing but pleasure, and wasting her fondness upon idle and tawdry favourites. The Queen,' wrote Francis Chaloner to his brother, 'thinks of nothing but her love affairs; she spends her days with her hawks and hounds and her nights in dances and plays. Though all things go ill with England she is incapable of serious thought. The Court is as merry as if the world were at our feet; and the ingenious fool who can devise the best means of trifling away time is the man most admired and prized.'1 Yet Elizabeth was but concealing her real nature behind a mask of levity. Her spirits rose with trouble, and her high qualities were never more thoroughly awake. Notwithstanding the struggle in Normandy, peace still existed in name between England and France; but Catherine demanded as an indemnity for the aggression on French territory a formal surrender of the English claim on Calais. Elizabeth answered that she would brave all consequences before she would submit to that dishonour:'2 and a declaration of war was daily expected. Philip had offered to mediate, but with the key 1 Regina tota amoribus dedita | qui plures nugandi modos ridiculo est, venationibusque aucupiis choreis studio excogitaverit, quasi vir summo et rebus ludicris insumens dies noc- pretio dignus suspicitur. -Spanish tesque; nihil serio tractatur, quan- MSS. quam omnia adverse cedant; tamen 2 Elizabeth to Chaloner, Decemjocamur hic, perinde ac si orbem ber, 1563: MS. Ibid. universum debellati fuerimus. Et |