“Have I touched thee, tyrant?” pursued Carver, exultingly. “Heaven, I repeat, will refuse thee issue. The support on which thou countest will be taken from thee. Didst thou dare make the attempt, the accursed Inquisition would at this moment be established amongst us. Thou hast it in reserve for a future day, but ere that day arrives thy perfidy will be discovered. False to thy oaths, faithless to thy Queen, treacherous to all, thou shalt meet thy just reward.”
“Faithless to me!” exclaimed Mary. “What wouldst thou dare insinuate, thou foul-mouthed villain?”
“That which I will dare maintain,” rejoined Carver—“that the consort you have chosen and have placed on the throne beside you is false to his marriage vows.”
“Away with him!” cried Philip, furiously.
“Stay!” exclaimed Mary. “I would question him further.”
“Forbear, I beseech you, Madam,” interposed Pole. “You only give him power to level his poisonous shafts against you.”
“His tongue ought to be torn from his throat for giving utterance to the lies his black heart has conceived!” cried Philip.
“My tongue has uttered no lies,” said Carver. “I have shown the Queen how she has been deceived.”
“Thou hast simply proved thine own wickedness and malevolence,” said Pole. “Her Majesty despises thy slander.”
“But it cannot pass unpunished.” said Philip. “Let the false villain instantly retract the calumnies he has uttered, or he shall be tied to yon post and scourged till he shall confess himself a liar and a slanderer. Let him be forced to recite the prayer for her Majesty’s safe deliverance, on pain of further torture. And, until he manifest contrition for his offences, let his chastisement be daily repeated.”