zit notwithstanding, he gevis credit to my word; bot zit not sa far
that he will schaw ony thing to me: bot nevertheles, I sall draw it
out of him, gif ze will that I avow all unto him. Bot I will never
rejoyce to deceive ony body that traistis in me: Zit notwithstanding
ze may command me in all thingis. Have na evill opinioun of me for
that caus, be ressoun ze ar the occasion of it zourself; becaus, for
my awin particular revenge, I wald not do it to him.
He gevis me sum chekis of yat quhilk I feir, zea, evin in the quick.
He sayis this far, yat his faultis wer publeist: bot yair is that
committis faultis, that belevis thay will never be spokin of; and zit
thay will speik of greit and small. As towart the Lady Reres, he said,
I pray God that scho may serve zow for your honour: and said, it is
thocht, and he belevis it to be trew, that I have not the power of
myself into myself, and that becaus of the refuse I maid of his
offeris. Summa, for certanetie he suspectis of the thing ze knaw, and
of his lyfe. Bot as to the last, how sone yat I spak twa or thre gude
wordis unto him, he rejoysis, and is out of dout.
22. I saw him not this evening for to end your bracelet, to the quhilk
I can get na lokkis. It is reddy to thame: and zit I feir that it will
bring sum malhure, and may be sene gif ze chance to be hurt. Advertise
me gif ze will have it, and gif ze will have mair silver, and quhen I
sall returne, and how far I may speik. He inragis when he heiris of
Lethingtoun, or of zow, or of my brother. Of your brother he speikis
nathing.[434] He speikis of the Erle of Argyle. I am in feir quhen I
heir him speik; for he assuris himself yat he hes not an evill
opinioun of him. He speikis nathing of thame that is out, nouther gude
nor evill, bot fleis that point. His father keipis his chalmer I have
not sene him.
23. All the Hammiltounis ar heir, that accompanyis me verray
honorabilly. All the freindis of the uther convoyis me quhen I gang to
se him. He desyris me to come and se him ryse the morne betyme. For to
mak schort, this beirer will tell zow the rest. And gif I leirne ony
thing heir, I will mak zow memoriall at evin. He will tell zow the
occasioun of my remaning. Burne this letter, for it is ovir dangerous,
and nathing weill said in it: for I am thinkand upon nathing bot
fascherie. Gif ze be in Edinburgh at the ressait of it, send me word
sone.
24. Be not offendit, for I gif not ovir greit credite. Now seing to
obey zow, my deir lufe, I spair nouther honour, conscience, hasarde,
nor greitnes quhat sumevir tak it, I pray zow, in gude part, and not
efter the interpretatioun of zour fals gudebrother, to quhome, I pray
zou, gif na credite agains the maist faithful luifer that ever ze had,
or ever sall have.
Se not hir, quhais fenzeit teiris suld not be sa mekle praisit nor
estemit, as the trew and faithful travellis quhilk I sustene for to
merite hir place. For obtening of the quhilk aganis my naturall, I
betrayis thame that may impesche me. God forgive me, and God give zow,
my only lufe, the hap and prosperitie quhilk your humble and faithful
lufe desyris unto zow, quha hopis to be schortly ane uther thing to
zow, for the reward of my irksum travellis.
25. It is lait: I desyre never to ceis fra wryting unto zou; zit now,
efter the kissing of zour handis, I will end my letter. Excuse my
evill wryting, and reid it twyse over. Excuse that thing that is
scriblit,[435] for I had na paper zisterday quhen I wrait that of ye
memoriall. Remember upon zour lufe, and wryte unto hir, and that
verray oft. Lufe me as I sall do zow.
Remember zow of the purpois of the Lady Reres.
Of the Inglismen.
Of his mother.
Of the Erle of Argyle.
Of the Erle Bothwell.
Of the ludgeing in Edinburgh.
ENGLISH TRANSLATION
(State Papers, Mary Queen of Scots, vol. ii. No. 65)
Being gon from the place, where I had left my harte, it may be easily
iudged what my Countenance was consydering what the body may without
harte, which was cause that till dynner I had used lyttle talk,
neyther wold any --pson-- body advance him selfe therunto, thinking
that it was not good so to doo.
Fowir myles from thence a gentleman of the Erle of Lennox cam and made
his commendations and excuses vnto me, that he cam not to meete me,
because he durst not enterprise so to doo, consydering the sharp
wordes that I had spoken to Conyngham, and that he desyred that I wold
com to the inquisition of the facte which I did suspecte him of. This
last was of his own head, without commission, and I told him that he
had no receipte against feare, and that he had no feare, if he did not
feele him self faulty, and that I had also sharply answeared to the
doubtes that he made in his letters as though ther had bene a meaning
to poursue him. To be short I have made him hold his peace; for the
reste it were to long to tell you. Sir James Hamilton came to meete
me, who told me that at another tyme he went his waye when he heard of
my comming, and that he sent unto him Houstoun, to tell him that he
wold not have thought, that he wold have followed and accompany him
selfe with the Hamiltons. He answeared that he was not com but to see
me; and that he would not follow Stuard nor Hamilton, but by my
commandment. He prayed him to go speake to him; he refused it.
The Lard Luce, Houstoun and the sonne of Caldwell, and about XLty
horse cam to meete me and he told that he was sent to one day a law
from the father, which shuld be this daye against the signing of his
own hand, which he hathe, and that, knowing of my comming, he hath
delayed it, and hath prayed him to go see him, which he hath refused
and swearith that he will suffer nothing at his handes. Not one of the
towne is come to --to see me-- speake with me, which makith me to
think that they be his, and then he speakith well of them at leaste
his sonne.
The King sent for Joachim and asked him, why I did not lodge nighe to
him, and that he wold ryse sooner and why I cam, whithir it wear for
any good appointment, that he[428] cam, and whithir I had not taken
Paris and Guilbert to write and that I sent Joseph. I wonder who hath
told him so muche evin of the mariage of Bastian. This bearer shall
tell you more vpon that I asked him of his letters and where he did
complayne of the crueltye of some of them. He said that he did dreme,
and that he was so glad to see me that he thought he shuld dye.
Indeede that he had found faulte with me....
I went my waye to supper. This bearer shall tell you of my arryving.
He praied me to com agayn, which I did: and he told me his grefe,
and that he wold make no testament, but leave all unto me and that I
was cause of his sicknes for the sorrow he had, that I was so strange
unto him. And (said he) you asked what I ment in my letter to speak of
cruelty. It was of your cruelty who will not accepte my offres and
repentance I avowe that I have done amisse, but not that I have always
disauowed; and so have many other of your subjects don and you have
well pardonid them.
I am young.
You will saye that you have also pardoned me many tymes and that I
returne to my fault. May not a man of my age for want of counsell,
fayle twise or thrise and mysse of promes and at the last repent and
rebuke him selfe by his experience? Yf I may obtayn this pardon I
protest I will neuer make faulte agayne. And I ask nothing but that we
may be at bed and table togiether as husband and wife; and if you
will not I will never rise from this bed. I pray you tell me your
resolution heerof. God knoweth that I am punished to have made my God
of you and had no other mynd but of you. And when I offende you
somtyme, you are cause thereof: for if I thought, whan anybody doth
any wrong to me, that I might for my refuge make my mone thereof unto
you, I wold open it to no other, but when I heare anything being not
familiar with you, I must keep it in my mynd and that --makith me out
of my wytt-- troublith my wittes for anger.
I did still answair him but that shall be too long. In the end I asked
him why he wold go in the English shipp. He doth disavow it and
swearith so, and confessith to have spoken to the men. Afterwards I
asked him of the inquisition of Hiegate. He denyed it till I told him
the very wordes, and then he said that Minto sent him word that it was
said, that som of the counsayle had brought me a letter to signe to
putt him in prison, and to kill him if he did resiste and that he
asked this of Minto himself, who said vnto him that he thought it was
true. I will talke with him to morrowe vpon that poynte. The rest as
Wille Hiegate hath confessed; but it was the next daye that he cam
hither.
In the end he desyred much that I shuld lodge in his lodging. I have
refused it. I have told him that he must be pourged and that could not
be don heere. He said unto me ‘I have hard saye that you have brought
the lytter, but I wold rather have gon with yourselfe.’ I told him
that so I wolde myself bring him to Cragmillar, that the phisicians
and I also might cure him without being farr from my sonne. He said
that he was ready when I wolde so as I wolde assure him of his
requeste.
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.
We are tyed to by two false races. The _good yeere_ untye us from
them. God forgive me and God knytt us togither for ever for the most
faythfull couple that ever he did knytt together. This is my fayth; I
will dye in it.
Excuse it, yf I write yll; you must gesse the one halfe. I cannot doo
with all, for I am yll at ease, and glad to write unto you when other
folkes be a sleepe, seeing that I cannot doo as they doo, according to
my desyre, that is betwene your armes my dear lyfe whom I besech God
to preserve from all yll, and send you good rest as I go to seeke
myne, till to morrow in the morning that will end my bible. But it
greevith me, that it shuld lett me from wryting unto you of newes of
myself --long the same-- so much I have to write.
Send me word what you have determinid heerupon, that we may know the
one the others mynde for marryng of any thing.
I am weary, and am a sleepe, and yet I cannot forbeare scribbling so
long as ther is any paper. Cursed be this pocky fellow that troublith
me thus muche, for I had a pleasanter matter to discourse vnto you but
for him. He is not muche the worse, but he is yll arrayed. I thought I
shuld have bene kylled with his breth, for it is worse than your
uncle’s breth; and yet I was sett no nearer to him than in a chayr by
his bolster, and he lyeth at the furdre syde of the bed.
The message of the Father by the waye.
The talk of Sir James --Hamilton-- of the ambassador.
That the Lard a Luss hath tolde me of the delaye.
The questions that he asked of Jochim.
Of my state.
Of my companye.
And of the cause of my comming.
And of Joseph.
The talk that he and I haue had, and of his desyre to please me, of
his repentance, and of thinterpretation of his letter.
Of Will Hiegate’s doinges, and of his departure, and of the L. of
Levinston.
I had forgotten of the L. of Levinston, that at supper he sayd softly
to the Lady Reres, that he dronk to the persons I knew if I wold
pledge them. And after supper he sayd softly to me, when I was leaning
vpon him and warming myselfe, ‘You may well go and see sick folkes,
yet can you not be so welcom unto them as you have this daye left som
body in payne who shall never be meary till he haue seene you agayne.’
I asked him who it was; he tooke me about the body and said ‘One of
his folkes that hath left you this daye.’ Gesse you the rest.
This day I have wrought till two of the clock vpon this bracelet, to
putt the keye in the clifte of it, which is tyed with two laces. I
have had so little tyme that it is very yll, but I will make a fayrer;
and in the meane tyme take heed that none of those that be heere doo
see it, for all the world wold know it, for I have made it in haste in
theyr presence.
I go to my tedious talke. You make me dissemble so much that I am
afrayde therof with horrour, and you make me almost to play the part
of a traytor. Remember that if it weare not for obeyeng I had rather
be dead. My heart bleedith for yt. To be shorte, he will not com but
with condition that I shall promise to be with him as heretofore at
bed and borde, and that I shall forsake him no more; and vpon my word
he will doo whatsoever I will, and will com, but he hath prayed me to
tarry till after to morrow.
He hath spoken at the fyrst more stoutly, as this bearer shall tell
you upon the matter of the Englishmen and of his departure; but in the
end he cometh to his gentlenes agayne.
He hath told me, among other talk, that he knew well, that my brother
hath told me at Sterling that which he had said there, wherof he
denyed the halfe, and specially that he was in his chamber. But now to
make him trust me I must fayne somthing vnto him; and therfore when he
desyred me to promise that when he shuld be well we shuld make but one
bed, I told him fayning to believe his faire promises, that if he did
not change his mynd betwene this tyme and that, I was contented, so as
he wold saye nothing therof; for (to tell it betwen us two) the Lordis
wished no yll to him, but did feare lest, consydering the
threateninges which he made in case we did agree together, he wold
make them feel the small accompte they have made of him; and that he
wold persuade me to poursue som of them, and for this respecte shuld
be in jelousy if --by and by-- at one instant, without their knowledge
I did brake a game made to the contrary in their presence.
And he said unto me very pleasant and meary ‘Think you that they doo
the more esteem you therfore? But I am glad that you talked to me of
the Lordes. I hope that you desyre now that we shall lyve a happy
lyfe; for if it weare otherwise, it could not be but greater
inconvenience shuld happen to us both than you think. But I will doo
now whatsoever you will have me doo, and will love all those that you
shall love so as you make them to love me allso. For so as they seek
not my lyfe, I love them all egally.’ Therupon I have willed this
bearer to tell you many prety things; for I have to muche to write,
and it is late, and I trust him upon your worde. To be short, he will
go any where upon my word.
Alas! and I never deceived any body; but I remitt myself wholly to
your will. And send me word what I shall doo, and whatsoever happen to
me, I will obey you. Think also yf you will not fynd som invention
more secret by phisick, for he is to take physick at Cragmillar and
the bathes also, and shall not com fourth of long tyme.
To be short, for that that I can learn he hath great suspicion, and
yet, nevertheles trusteth upon my worde, but not to tell me as yet
anything; howbeit, if you will that I shall avow him, I will know all
of him; but I shall never be willing to beguile one that puttith his
trust in me. Nevertheles you may doo all, and doo not estyme me the
lesse therfore, for you are the cause therof. For, for my own revenge
I wold not doo it.
He giuith me certain charges (and these strong), of that that I fear
evin to saye that his faultes be published, but there be that committ
some secret faultes and feare not to have them spoken of lowdely, and
that ther is speeche of greate and small. And even touching the Lady
Reres, he said ‘God grant, that she serve you to your honour.’ And
that men may not think, nor he neyther, that myne owne power was not
in myselfe, seeing I did refuse his offres. To conclude, for a
suerety, he mistrustith vs of that that you know, and for his lyfe.
But in the end, after I had spoken two or three good wordes to him, he
was very meary and glad.
I have not sene him this night for ending your bracelet, but I can
fynde no claspes for yt; it is ready therunto, and yet I feare least
it should bring you yll happ, or that it shuld be known if you were
hurte. Send me worde, whether you will have it and more monney, and
whan I shall returne, and how farre I may speak. Now as farr as I
perceive _I may doo much with you_; gesse you whithir I shall not be
suspected. As for the rest, he is wood when he hears of Ledinton, and
of you and my brother. Of your brother he sayth nothing, but of the
Earl of Arguile he doth; I am afraide of him to heare him talk, at the
least he assurith himselfe that he hath no yll opinion of him. He
speakith nothing of those abrode, nether good nor yll, but avoidith
speaking of them. His father keepith his chamber; I have not seene
him.
All the Hamiltons be heere who accompany me very honestly. All the
friendes of the other doo come allwais, when I go to visitt him. He
hath sent to me and prayeth me to see him rise to morrow in the
morning early. To be short, this bearer shall declare unto you the
rest; and if I shall learne anything, I will make every night a
memoriall therof. He shall tell you the cause of my staye. Burn this
letter, for it is too dangerous, neyther is there anything well said
in it, for I think upon nothing but upon greefe if you be at
Edinboroughe.
Now if to please you, my deere lyfe, I spare neither honor,
conscience, nor hazard, nor greatnes, take it in good part, and not
according to the interpretation of your false brother-in-law, to whom
I pray you, give no credit against the most faythfull lover that ever
you had or shall have.
See not also her whose faynid teares you ought not more to regarde
than the true travails which I endure to deserve her place, for
obteyning of which, against my own nature, I doo betray those that
could lett me. God forgive me and give you, my only frend, the good
luck and prosperitie that your humble and faythfull lover doth wisshe
vnto you, who hopith shortly to be an other thing vnto you, for the
reward of my paynes.
I have not made one worde, and it is very late, althoughe I shuld
never be weary in wryting to you, yet will I end, after kyssing of
your handes. Excuse my evill wryting, and read it over twise. Excuse
also that [I scribbled], for I had yesternight no paper when took the
paper of a memorial. [Pray] remember your frend, and wryte vnto her
and often. Love me allw[ais as I shall love you].
LETTER III
ORIGINAL FRENCH VERSION AT HATFIELD
(See Calendar of Hatfield Manuscripts, vol. i. pp. 376-77.)
J’ay veille plus tard la hault que je n’eusse fait si ce neust esté pour
tirer ce que ce porteur vous dira que Je treuve la plus belle commoditie
pour excuser vostre affaire que se pourroit presenter. Je luy ay promise
de le luy mener demain ^si^ vous le trouves bon mettes y ordre. Or
monsieur j’ay ja rompu ma promesse Car vous ne mavies rien comande ^de^
vous envoier ni escrire si ne le fais pour vous offencer et si vous
scavies la craint que j’en ay vous nauries tant des subçons contrairs que
toutesfois je cheris comme procedant de la chose du mond que je desire et
cherche le plus c’est votre ^bonne^ grace de laquelle mes deportemens
m’asseureront et je n’en disesperay Jamais tant que selon vostre promesse
vous m’en dischargeres vostre coeur aultrement je penseras que mon malheur
et le bien composer de ceux qui n’ont la troisiesme partie de la fidelité
ni voluntair obéissance que je vous porte auront gaigné sur moy l’avantage
de la seconde amye de Jason. Non que je vous compare a un si malheureuse
ni moy a une si impitoiable. Combien que vous men fassies un peu resentir
en chose qui vous touschat ou pour vous preserver et garder a celle a qui
seulle vous aporteins si lon se peult approprier ce que lon acquiert par
bien et loyalment voire uniquement aymer comme je fais et fairay toute ma
vie pour pein ou mal qui m’en puisse avenir. En recompence de quoy et des
tous les maulx dont vous maves este cause, souvenes vous du lieu icy pres.
Je ne demande que vous me tennes promesse de main mais que nous truvions
et que nadjousties foy au subçons quaures sans nous en certifier, et Je ne
demande a Dieu si non que coignoissies tout ce que je ay au coeur qui est
vostre et quil vous preserve de tout mal au moyns durant ma vie qui ne me
sera chere qu’autant qu’elle et moy vous serons agreables. Je m’en vois
coucher et vous donner le bon soir mandes moy de main comme vous seres
porté a bon heur. Car j’enseray en pein et faites bon guet si l’oseau
sortira de sa cage ou sens son per comme la tourtre demeurera seulle a se
lamenter de l’absence ^pour^ court quelle soit. Ce que je ne puis faire ma
lettre de bon coeur si ce nestoit que je ay peur que soyes endormy. Car je
nay ose escrire devant Joseph et bastienne et Joachim qui ne sont que
partir quand J’ay commence.
LETTER IV
ORIGINAL FRENCH VERSION
(In the Record Office State Papers, Mary Queen of Scots, vol. ii. No. 63.)
Mon cueur helas fault il que la follie d’une famme dont vous connoisses
asses l’ingratitude vers moy soit cause de vous donner displesir veu que
je neusse sceu y remedier sans le scavoir; et despuis que men suis apersue
Je ne vous lay peu dire pour scauoir comment mi guovejernerois car en cela
ni aultre chose je ne veulx entreprandre de rien fayre sans en scavoir
votre volontay, laquelle je vous suplie me fayre entandre car je la
suiuray toute ma vie plus volontiers que vous ne me la declareres, et si
vous ne me mandes ce soir ce que volles que jen faise je men deferay au
hazard de la fayre entreprandre ce qui pourroit nuire a ce a quoy nous
tandons tous deus, et quant elle sera mariee je vous suplie donnes men vne
ou ien prandray telles de quoy vous contanteres quant a leur condition
mayes de leur langue ou fidelite vers vous ie ne vous en respondray Je
vous suplie qune opinion sur aultrui ne nuise en votre endroit a ma
constance. Soupsonnes moi may quant je vous en veulx rendre hors de doubte
et mesclersir ne le refeuses ma chere vie et permetes que je vous face
preuue par mon obeissance de ma fidelite et constance et subjection
volontaire, que je prands pour le plus agreable bien que je scaurois
resceuoir si vous le voulles accepter, et nen faytes la ceremonie car vous
ne me scauriez dauantage outrasger ou donner mortel ennuy.
LETTER V
ORIGINAL FRENCH VERSION AT HATFIELD