Mary, Queen of Scots, 1542-1587; Queens -- Scotland -- Biography; Scotland -- History -- Mary Stuart, 1542-1567
He hath no desyre to be seen and waxeth angry when I speake to him of
Wallcar and sayth that he will pluck his eares from his head, and that
he lyeth; for I asked him before of that, and what cause he had to
complayne of some of the lords and to threaten them. He denyeth it,
and sayth that he had allready prayed them to think no such matter of
him. As for my selfe he wold rather lose his lyfe than doo me the
leaste displeasure; and then used so many kindes of flatteryes so
coldly and wysely as you wold marvayle at. I had forgotten that he
sayde that he could not mistrust me for Hiegate’s word, for he could
not beleve, that his own flesh (which was myselfe) wold doo him any
hurte; and in deed it was sayd that I refused to have him lett
bludd.[429] But for the others he wold at leaste sell his lyfe deare
ynoughe; but that he did suspecte nobody nor wolde, but wolde love all
that I did love.
He wold not lett me go, but wold have me to watche with him. I made as
though I thought all to be true and that I wold think vpon it, and
have excused myself from sytting up with him this nyght, for he sayth
that he sleepith not. You have never heard him speake better nor more
humbly; and if I had not proofe of his hart to be as waxe, and that
myne were not as a dyamant, no stroke but comming from your hand could
make me but to have pitie of him. But feare not for the place shall
contynue till death. Remember also, in recompense therof, not to
suffer yours to be won by that false race that wold do no lesse to
your selfe.
I think they have bene at schoole togither. He hath allwais the teare
in the eye. He saluteth every man, even to the meanest, and makith
much of them, that they may take pitie of him. His father hath bled
this daye at the nose and at the mouth. Gesse what token that is. I
have not seene him; he is in his chamber. The king is so desyrous,
that I shuld give him meate with my own hands, but trust you no more
there where you are than I doo here.
This is my first journay; I will end to morrow. I write all, how
little consequence so ever it be of, to the end that you may take of
the wholle, that shall be best _for you to judge_. I doo here a work
that I hate muche, _but I had begon it this morning_; had you not lyst
to laugh, to see me so trymly make a lie, at the leaste dissemble, and
to mingle truthe therewith? He hath almost told me all on the bishops
behalfe and of Sunderland, without touching any word unto him of that
which you had told me; but only by muche flattering him and praying
him to assure him selfe of me, and by my complayning of the bishop. _I
have taken the worms out_ of his nose. You have hard the rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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