intended to raise a brawl and 'go it blind.' This, however, is almost
beyond the King's habitual and romantic recklessness. We must prefer
the theory of a subtly concerted and ably conducted plan, constructed
with alternatives, so that, if one string breaks, another will hold
fast. That plan, to the best of my poor powers, I have explained.

To drop the figure of irony, all this hypothesis is starkly
incredible. James was not a recklessly adventurous character to go
weaponless with Ruthven, who wore a sword, and provoke him into
insolence. If he had been ever so brave, the plot is of a complexity
quite impossible; no sane man, still less a timid man, could conceive
and execute a plot at the mercy of countless circumstances, not to be
foreseen. Suppose the Master slain, and Gowrie a free man in the
street. He had only to sound the tocsin, summon his devoted townsmen,
surround the house, and ask respectfully for explanations.

Take, on the other hand, the theory of Gowrie's guilt. Here the
motives for evil will on either side may be briefly stated. Since the
murder of Riccio (1566) the Ruthvens had been the foes of the Crown.
Gowrie's grandfather and father were leaders in the attack on Mary and
Riccio; Gowrie's father insulted Queen Mary, while caged in Loch Leven
Castle, by amorous advances--so she declares. In 1582 Gowrie's father
captured James and held him in degrading captivity. He escaped, and
was reconciled to his gaoler, who, in 1584, again conspired, and was
executed, while the Ruthven lands were forfeited. By a new revolution
(1585-1586) the Ruthvens were reinstated. In July 1593 Gowrie's
mother, by an artful ambuscade, enabled the Earl of Bothwell again to
kidnap the King. In 1594 our Gowrie, then a lad, joined Bothwell in
open rebellion. He was pardoned, and in August 1594 went abroad,
travelled as far as Rome, studied at Padua, and, summoned by the party