suggestion, except by public execution, when none of the gentlemen
"of the association," nor Paulet, nor Drury--how skilfully soever their
"pulses had been felt" by Elizabeth's command--would commit assassination
to serve a Queen who was capable of punishing them afterwards for the
murder, the great cause came to its inevitable conclusion, and Mary
Stuart was executed by command of Elizabeth Tudor. The world may
continue to differ as to the necessity of the execution but it has long
since pronounced a unanimous verdict as to the respective display of
royal dignity by the two Queens upon that great occasion.

During this interval the Netherland matter, almost as vital to England as
the execution of Mary, was comparatively neglected. It was not
absolutely in abeyance, but the condition of the Queen's mind coloured
every state-affair with its tragic hues. Elizabeth, harassed, anxious,
dreaming dreams, and enacting a horrible masquerade, was in the worst
possible temper to be approached by the envoys. She was furious with the
Netherlanders for having maltreated her favourite. She was still more
furious because their war was costing so much money. Her disposition
became so uncertain, her temper so ungovernable, as to drive her
counsellors to their wit's ends. Burghley confessed himself "weary of
his miserable life," and protested "that the only desire he had in the
world was to be delivered from the ungrateful burthen of service, which
her Majesty laid upon him so very heavily." Walsingham wished himself
"well established in Basle." The Queen set them all together by the
ears. She wrangled spitefully over the sum-totals from the Netherlands;
she worried Leicester, she scolded Burghley for defending Leicester, and
Leicester abused Burghley for taking part against him.

The Lord-Treasurer, overcome with "grief which pierced both his body and
his heart," battled his way--as best he could--through the throng of