Thus fame affatethe[175] my state to the stares, enfeoft with the gwyftes of nature's devise, that soundes the retreat to others princes eares whollie to resigne to me the chefest price; but what doth it avale to vant in this wyse? for as the sowre sent the swete tast do spill so are the good gwyftes corrupted with ill.

Foremost amongst the defects that mar the high gifts of nature she mentions the "Gwyssian" temper which she has received from her mother, and by which she has been led to take the first false step "to wedd as she wold, suche a one as she demed wold serve her lust rather then might her weale well upholde". The fatal marriage being thus introduced, she naturally refers to its results, to the opposition of those who, having "ever tendered her state, cold not abyde to see this myscheffe", and whom, in her ungovernable temper, in her "rigour and hate", she "sought to subject to the sword". This is followed by the names of her chief opponents, the list being augmented by a few names which do not appear in the first part. Here a passage of singular significance even at the present day is unexpectedly brought in, in connection with the Duke of Argyle. It is a description of the Irish. They are stigmatized "a bloody crewe that whoso they take they helples downe hewe", and their barbarous manner of carrying on war and inhuman treatment of the enemy is thus set forth:—

This savage kinde, they knowe no lawe of armes, they make not warrs as other do assay, they deale not deathe by [without] dredfull harmes, yeld or not yeld whoso they take they slay, they save no prysonners for ransome nor for pay, they hold it hopeles of the bodye dead except they see hym cut shorter by the heade.

From this point the Queen's "complante" becomes a narrative—interspersed with moral reflections on the dangers of despotic government and the horrors of civil wars—of the victorious though bloodless expedition against the confederate Lords. It is noteworthy that, however depreciatory the judgment which she is made to pass upon her own conduct, her energy and courage are repeatedly insisted upon in terms of unqualified praise: "The dread of no enemy cold me appaile, nor yett no travell endaunte my entent; ... I dreaded no daunger of death to ensewe, no stormy blasts cold make me retyre". Indeed, in one stanza she actually likens herself to Tomiris, and though, from the fact that it appears to be made by herself, the comparison at first strikes us as unnatural and exaggerated, looked at in its proper light, as the testimony of an avowed enemy, it is undoubtedly a high tribute of admiration to her indomitable spirit:—

Amidde wch rowte, yf thou thie selffe had bene, and seen howe I my matters did contryve, thou woldest have reckened me the lustyest Quene that ever Europe fostred heare to live; yea, if Tomiris her selffe had bene alive, who dreaded great hosts with her tyrannye, cold not shewe herself more valiant then I.

The first episode referred to by the Queen is the pitching of her camp near Glasgow, for the purpose of intercepting the rebels who had taken up their position near Paisley, but who, dismayed at the rapid march of the royal army, hastily retired towards Edinburgh. This was on August 31. The poetical narrative is as follows:—

In Glasco towne I entrenched my bandes, and they in Paselee, nor far distant from thence, where erelie on the morrowe, west by the sande,[176] they gave me larum with warlicke pretence; we were in armes but they were gone thence, to the ffeldes we marcht in battell array, expectinge our foos, but they were awaye.

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when fame had brought that the Llords were gone to Edenbrough towne to wage[177] men of warre, to supplie there force, and make them more stronge of expert trayns[178] to joyne in this jarre, I hasted forwarde to interrupt them there, but by the way I harde they were gone from Edenbrough, and had clene left the towne.

In a stanza following immediately upon this, and descriptive of the course adopted by Mary on her arrival in Edinburgh, we find the confirmation of a statement made by Captain Cockburn,[179] but indignantly denied as a shameless fabrication by those historians whose aim it has been to clear the Queen from every imputation. He asserts, not only that she imposed a fine of £20,000 on certain of the burgesses of Edinburgh after the termination of the expedition, but also that previously to this she had extorted 14,000 marks from them for the support of her army. It is the latter part of this statement which has been challenged, but which undoubtedly receives strong support from the following verses:—