Great Britain -- History -- Mary I, 1553-1558 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
And even now she also reached the greatest depth of her own misery, for,
as she told her tale before his judges and before _him_, she half
expected that he would exonerate her from the odious accusations which
she was bringing against herself.
The story which she had told had been in accordance with the Cardinal's
suggestions, but she herself was quite convinced that Don Miguel had
fallen by a woman's hand. Wessex would never have hit another man in the
back--that was woman's work, and she who had done it was so dear to him,
that he was sacrificing life and honour in order to shield her.
Aye! more than that! for was he not acting a coward's part by allowing
Ursula Glynde to sacrifice her fair name for the sake of a wanton?
And thus these two people who loved one another more than life, honour,
and happiness, were face to face now with that terrible misunderstanding
between them:--still further apart from each other than they had ever
been, both suffering acutely in heart and mind for the supposed
cowardice and wantonness of the other, and the while my Lord High
Steward and the other noble lords were concluding the ceremonies of that
strange, eventful trial.
"My lords," said Lord Chandois, once more rising from his seat, "you
have heard the evidence of this lady, and Robert Duke of Wessex having
put himself upon the trial of God and you his peers, I charge you to
consider if it appeareth that he is guilty of this murder or whether he
had justification, and thereupon say your minds upon your honour and
consciences."
We have Mr. Thomas Norton's authority for stating that my lords, the
triers, never left their seats, nor did they deliberate. Hardly were the
words out of my Lord High Steward's lips than with one accord
four-and-twenty voices were raised saying--
"Not guilty!"
"Then," adds Mr. Norton, "there was a cheer raised from the people
inside the Hall which was quite deafening to the ears. Sundry tossed
their caps into the air, and many of the women began to cry. My Lord
High Steward could not make himself heard for a long while, at which he
became very wrathful, and, calling to the Serjeant-at-Arms, he bade him
clear the Court of all these noise-makers."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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