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 Heaven, no! I choose broad day, my lord, d'ye hear? high noon, bright sunshine, the public square, the axe and block, the multitude in the street, and at the windows and on the roofs—a hundred thousand witnesses! I choose that they shall be terrified, d'ye hear, my lord? that they shall deem it an awe-inspiring and magnificent spectacle, and that they shall say to one another: " 'Tis a woman who has been insulted, but 'tis a queen who avenges herself."—This favourite so envied, this comely, insolent young man whom I have covered with velvet and satin—I would fain see him bent double, terrified and trembling, kneeling on a black cloth, with bare feet, hands bound, hooted by the mob, handled by the executioner. On that white neck whereon I placed a golden collar, I propose to place a rope. I have seen what aspect this Fabiani would present upon a throne, now I would see what aspect hell present upon a scaffold.

Fabiani.Madame—

The Queen.Nay, not another word! not another word! You are lost, in very truth lost, as you see! You will ascend the scaffold like Suffolk and Northumberland. 'Twill be as welcome a spectacle as another to give to my good city of London. You know well how it hates you, does my good city! By Heaven! 'tis an excellent thing, when one craves vengeance, to be Mary, Queen of England, daughter of Henry the Eighth, and mistress of the four seas. And when you are on the scaffold, Fabiani, you may make, at your pleasure, a long discourse to the people, like Northumberland, or a long prayer to God, like Suffolk, to give the pardon time to arrive. Heaven is my witness that you are a foul traitor, and that the pardon will not come! The wretched