"Why is she here!" shouted the old woman fiercely, "why is she here, in her own home!--because I could not, would not kill her with her base lord's message!--What! break her heart, and then thrust her forth to die?--Villain!--double-dyed and cowardly villain!--may the curses of a----" Before the old woman could finish her anathema, the enraged Earl had stricken her grey head to the floor. The frightened countess fell on her knees beside her; but, with a terrible imprecation, Bothwell commanded his attendants to bear his victim from the room, and sternly ordered his trembling wife to remain. "As you are here," he said, "it is not essential that we meet again; your signature is necessary to this paper; please to affix it without useless delay." The countess took the paper, which was a petition to the Commissariot-Court for a divorce from her husband. Before she had read the first line, every drop of blood ebbed from her face. She did not faint, but with a degree of energy foreign to her character, she grasped the paper in her hands, as if about to tear it. The Earl seized her wrist, and fiercely demanded her signature. "Never--_never_!" exclaimed the poor wife, struggling in his grasp--"Oh, Bothwell, you cannot wish it--you that so loved me--you that promised to love me forever and ever--no, no! you do not mean it--you cannot put your poor wife away thus!--I know that the little beauty you once prized is gone, but tears and sorrow have dimmed it;--bear with me but a little longer--say that you love me yet, and my bloom will come again;--look at me, Bothwell, husband, _dear_ husband! and say that you did not mean it--that you gave me that horrid paper to frighten me--say but that, and your poor Ellen will worship you forever!" This energetic appeal had its effect, even in the hard hearted Earl. He endured, and even partially returned the passionate caress with which she had accompanied her words; and when she fell back exhausted in his arms, he bore her to a seat and placed himself beside her. "Ellen," he said, "I will deal candidly with you--I _do_ love you, and have, even while in pursuit of another; but you have yet to learn that there is a stronger passion than love--_ambition_!" "You do love me--bless you, bless you! Bothwell, for saying so much," she eagerly exclaimed, the affectionate young creature snatching his hand between both hers, and covering it with joyful kisses. But her joy was of short duration. As the serpent uncoils its glittering folds, so did Bothwell lay bare the depravity and ambition of his heart. Artifice, persuasion and threats were used, and at length he prevailed. The petition for a divorce was signed; but the heart of the poor countess was broken by the effort.