"It is not fit," cried Soulis, "that a man who has ever been suspected of invading our monarch's honor, should live another hour."
This sanguinary sentence was acceded to, and with as little remorse by the whole assembly as if they had merely condemned a tree to the ax. Such is the carelessness with which the generality of arbitrary assemblies decide on the fate of a fellow mortal! Earl Percy, who gave his vote for the death of the minstrel more from this culpable inconsideration than that thirst of blood which stimulated the voices of Soulis and the Cummins, proposed—as he believed the queen innocent—that honor should be examined relative to the circumstances mentioned in the letter.
The king immediately ordered their attendance.
The royal Jane of Acre appeared at the first summons, and spoke with an air of truth and freedom from alarm which convinced every candid ear of the innocence of the queen. Her testimony was, that she believed the minstrel to be other than he seemed; but she was certain, from the conversations which the queen had held with her after the bishop's feast, that it was at this very feast she had first seen him, and that she was ignorant of his real rank. On being questioned by the bishop, the countess acknowledged that her majesty had praised his figure as well as his singing; "yet not more," added she, "than she afterward did to the king when she awakened his curiosity to send for him." Her highness continued to reply to the interrogatories put to her, by saying, that it was in the king's presence she herself first saw the minstrel; and then she thought his demeanor much above his situation; but, when he accompanied the queen and herself into her majesty's apartments, she had then an opportunity to observe him narrowly, as the queen engaged him in conversation; and by his answers, questions, and easy, yet respectful deportment, she became convinced he was not what he appeared.
"And why, Jane," asked the king, "did you not impart these suspicions to your husband or to me?"
"Because," replied she, "remembering that my interference on a certain public occasion brought my late husband, Clare, under your majesty's displeasure; on my marriage with Monthermer, I made a solemn vow before my confessor never to offend in the like manner. And besides, the countenance of this stranger was so ingenious, and his sentiments so natural and honorable, I could not suspect he came on any disloyal errand."
"Lady," observed one of the elder lords, "if you thought so well of the queen and of this man, why did you caution her against his smiles, and deem it necessary to persuade her not to see him again?"
The countess blushed at this question, but replied, "Because I saw the minstrel was a gentleman. He possessed a noble figure, and a handsome face in spite of his Egyptian skin. Like most young gentlemen, he might be conscious of these advantages, and attribute the artless approbation, the innocent smiles of my gracious queen, to a source more flattering to his vanity. I have known many lords, not far from your majesty, make similar mistakes on as little grounds," added she, looking disdainfully toward some of the younger nobles; "and, therefore, to prevent such insolence, I desired his final dismission."
"Thank you, my dear Jane," replied the king; "you almost persuade me of
Margaret's innocence."
"Believe it, sire!" cried she with animation; "whatever romantic thoughtlessness her youth and inexperience may have led her into, I pledge my life on her purity."