On the 19th of November, Lady Jane and her husband were arraigned for high treason. Conscious that a defence would be useless, they each pleaded guilty. The description of the scene, as given by contemporaries, has been well embodied by the poet already quoted. Bishop Gardiner, in reply to the expostulations of one of the council in favor of mercy, is represented as speaking thus:-- “These are romantic, light, vain-glorious dreams. Have you considered well upon the danger? How dear to the fond many, and how popular, These are whom you would spare? Have you forgot When at the bar, before the seat of judgment, This Lady Jane, this beauteous traitress, stood, With what command she charmed the whole assembly? With silent grief the mournful audience sat, Fixed on her face, and listening to her pleading: Her very judges wrung their hands for pity; Their old hearts melted in them as she spoke, And tears ran down upon their silver beards. E’en I myself was moved, and for a moment Felt wrath suspended in my doubtful breast, And questioned if the voice I heard was mortal. But when her tale was done, what loud applause, Like bursts of thunder, shook the spacious hall! At last, when sore constrained, the unwilling lords Pronounced the fatal sentence on her life; A peal of groans ran through the crowded court As every heart was broken, and the doom, Like that which waits the world, were universal.” It has been supposed that Mary had, at this moment, no sanguinary purposes in view, but merely hoped by the terrors of a scaffold, and in the seclusion of a prison, to recall the youthful pair from the path of heresy. With this view, she caused the most solemn promises of life and fortune to be made to Lady Jane, if she would recant; the most learned divines of the Catholic faith were sent to reason with her, and to endeavor to turn her from that faith which she had held from her cradle; “each striving by art, by flattery, by threatening, by promise of life, or whatever else might move most in the bosom of a weak woman, who should become master of so great a prize; but all their labors were bootless, for she had art to confound their art, wisdom to withstand their flatteries, resolution above their menaces, and such a true knowledge of life, that death was to her no other than a most familiar acquaintance.” Indeed, supported as she was by the almost unanimous voice of the English people, Mary had little cause to fear her innocent rivals. She seems to have felt thus, for many little indulgences were granted to them; though not permitted to see one another, they were allowed such freedom within the walls of the Tower, as was not inconsistent with their safe-keeping.