“Let us hear your defence, Master Shakespeare, if defence you will venture to make.”
“Your grace,” said the player, in his gentle voice, “on my own part, I offer no defence. Freely and fully I accept all responsibility for any hurt I have done to justice. But having done none that I know, I take my stand upon the innocence of my intention.”
The light of anger flamed in the Queen’s eyes.
“Don’t use so many words, sirrah,” she said, sharply. “Come to the issue. I am a plain woman, and I ask for plain words and few. For what reason, I will ask you, have you embraced these devious ways?”
The player met with calm eyes the harsh glance of the Sovereign.
“If it be treason, your grace, to befriend the innocent,” he said, “I will gladly pay the penalty of my crime.”
The eyes of the Queen sparkled ominously.
“The innocent, sirrah! Pray, what do you mean by the innocent? Is it the part of innocence, I ask you, to engage in a plot to take away my life?”
“No, your grace,” said the player. “And may it never be permitted to one of your subjects to say otherwise.”
“Then may I ask why you take the part of those who have done so?”