Then spoke Sir Jeremy Bowes, "I serve the Virgin Queen,— Little is she accustomed to vail her face, I ween.
"She is Elizabeth Tudor, mighty to bless or to ban, Nor doth her envoy give over at the bidding of any man!
"Call to your Cossacks and hangmen,—do with me what ye please, But ye shall answer to England when the news flies over seas."
Ivan smiled on the envoy,—the courtiers saw that smile, Glancing one at the other, holding their breath the while.
Then spoke the terrible Ivan, "His Queen sits over sea, Yet he hath bid me defiance,—would ye do as much for me?"
XVI
LORDS OF ROANOKE
Primrose garlands in Coombe Wood shone with the pale gold of winter sunshine. Violets among dry leaves peered sedately at the pageant of spring. In the royal hunting forest of Richmond, venerable trees unfolded from their tiny buds canopies like the fairy pavilion of Paribanou.