“Fear nothing,” observed the old knight. “My head shall answer for yours.”
Thus re-assured, Wyat advanced more confidently towards the queen, and when within a few paces of her, paused and drew himself up to his full height. Bedingfeld took up a station on the right of the royal chair, and supported himself on his huge two-handed sword. On the left stood Gardiner and Renard.
“I have sent for you, traitor and rebel that you are,” commenced Mary, “to know why you have thus incited my subjects to take up arms against me?”
“I am neither traitor nor rebel, madam,” replied Wyat, “as I have already declared to one of your council, and I but represent the mass of your subjects, who being averse to your union with the prince of Spain, since you refuse to listen to their prayers, are determined to make themselves heard.”
“Ha! God’s death! sir,” cried Mary, furiously, “do you, or do any of my subjects think they can dispose of me in marriage as they think proper? But this is an idle pretext. Your real object is the subversion of my government, and my dethronement. You desire to place the princess Elizabeth on the throne—and in default of her, the Lady Jane Grey.”
“I desire to uphold your majesty’s authority,” replied Wyat, “provided you will comply with my demands.”
“Demands!” cried Mary, stamping her foot, while her eyes flashed fire. “It is the first time such a term has been used to me, and it shall be the last. In God’s name, what are your demands? Speak, man.”