The Tower of London: A Historical Romance, IllustratedAinsworth, William Harrison
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The Tower of London: A Historical Romance, Illustrated
Ainsworth, William Harrison
Grey, Jane, Lady, 1537-1554 -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Tower of London (London, England) -- Fiction
No further intimation was necessary to the bishop, who immediately
proceeded to interrogate her on the articles of her faith; and being
a man of profound learning, well versed in all the subtleties of
scholastic dispute, he sought in every way to confound and perplex her.
In this he was likewise assisted by Bonner and Feckenham, both of
whom were admirable theologians, and who proposed the most difficult
questions to her. The conference lasted several hours, during which
Jane sustained her part with admirable constancy—never losing a single
point—but retorting upon her opponents questions, which they were
unable to answer—displaying such a fund of erudition—such powers of
argument—such close and clear reasoning—and such profound knowledge of
the tenets of her own faith and of theirs, that they were completely
baffled and astounded. To a long and eloquent address of Gardiner’s
she replied at equal length, and with even more eloquence and fervour,
concluding with these emphatic words—“My lord, I have lived in the
Protestant faith, and in that faith I will die. In these sad times,
when the power of your church is in the ascendant, it is perhaps needful
there should be martyrs in ours to prove our sincerity. Amongst these I
shall glory to be numbered—happy in the thought that my firmness will
be the means in after ages, of benefiting the Protestant church. On
this rock,” she continued, pointing to the Bible, which lay open before
her—“my religion is built, and it will endure, when yours, which is
erected on sandy foundations, shall be utterly swept away. In this
sacred volume, I find every tenet of my creed, and I desire no other
mediator between my Maker and myself.”
As she said this, her manner was so fervid, and her look so full of
inspiration, that all her listeners were awe-stricken, and gazed at her
in involuntary admiration. The secretary suspended his task to drink in
her words; and even Simon Renard, who ensconced beneath the door-way,
seemed no inapt representation of the spirit of evil, appeared
confounded.
After a brief pause, Gardiner arose, saying, “the conference is ended,
daughter. You are at liberty to depart. If I listen longer,” he added,
in an under tone to his companions, “I shall be convinced against my
will.”
“Then you acknowledge your defeat, my lord,” said Jane, proudly.
“I acknowledge that it is in vain to make any impression on you,”
answered the bishop.
“Jane,” cried her husband, advancing towards her, and throwing himself
on his knees before her, “you have conquered, and I implore your
forgiveness. I will never change a religion of which you are so bright
an ornament.”
“This is indeed a victory,” replied Jane, raising him and clasping him
to her bosom. “And now, my lord,” she added to Gardiner, “conduct us
to prison or the scaffold as soon as you please. Death has no further
terrors.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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