Robert Cecil came to tell me the result of the trial.

“He is found guilty, Your Majesty,” he said, “guilty of treason.”

I was very saddened. “Who would believe, Little Elf, that one who appeared to serve me well should all the time have been planning my destruction?”

I was not completely sure that he was guilty. Essex had been so determined to prove him so ever since the doctor had refused to act as his spy. I have never trusted evidence which is wrung from a victim by torture. I deplored the use of it, but I knew it was necessary. Yet who could trust the information which came out of it?

I was very uneasy about Lopez. He was sentenced to death, and when they brought me his death warrant, I found it hard to put my signature to it—so I did what I had done in the case of Mary of Scotland; I delayed doing it.

Essex said Lopez was unsafe.

“What if there should be an attempt to rescue him? What if he escaped and went back to his masters in Spain? Think of the knowledge he would carry. Your Majesty must sign the death warrant.”

“Essex,” I said, “you must stop this habit of telling me what I must and must not do. No one tells the Queen how she must act.”

“It seems that Essex does.”

“Guard your tongue, my lord,” I said. “It will be your undoing one of these days.”

Then he repeated a phrase which he had used in one of his letters to me and which I read often.

“Your Majesty may turn from me, but I never will from you. While you give me leave to say I love you, my fortune is my affection, unmatchable. If ever you deny me that liberty you may end my life, but you will never shake my constancy, for it is not in your power, great Queen as you are, to make me love you less.”

All my anger against him melted. He truly loved me. He would never pretend; he could not speak with such heartfelt devotion unless what he said was true.

I softened toward him. If he were brash, it was in my service. Why should I complain of that?

I took a ring from my finger then. It held a ruby in a cluster of diamonds. I had chosen it because the unusual setting made it unique.

Then I took his hand and slipped the ring on his little finger.

“This is a bond between us,” I said. “If you are ever in trouble and need my help, send me this ring. I will remember this moment and how in it you assured me of your affection for me. Mine is in this ring. I shall always remember and come to your aid when I see it.”

He took my hand and kissed it; and later that day I signed Lopez's death warrant.

He was taken to Tyburn on a hurdle and before he was hanged and quartered he made a speech to the watching crowd in which he said that he had never thought to harm me and that he loved me as he loved Jesus Christ.

Someone in the crowd shouted: “Jew! You never loved Jesus Christ.”

And all the people there believed that in saying what he did he had admitted his guilt.

His death continued to worry me, because I still was not entirely convinced that he would ever have attempted to poison me. If it were really true that he would, then I knew nothing of human nature. I was sunk in depression as I always was after I had signed a death warrant for someone of whose guilt I was unsure.

I knew he had a wife, Sara, and five children. I gave orders that they were to retain his property, and later on his son was given a parsonage and a living.

RALEIGH WAS STILL IN THE TOWER AND I HAD NO DESIRE to release him. I was still very annoyed with him and he must be an example to them all. Essex was delighted. He had erred in the same way yet had not been treated so harshly and was now in higher favor than he had ever been. I was sure that rankled very much with Raleigh.

Robert Cecil did ask me if I thought he had been punished enough.

“It was not exactly a political sin, Your Majesty,” he went on.

“I will not have immorality in my Court, little man,” I said, “and that is an end of the matter.”

Of course Raleigh had stood with the Cecils against Essex. He was an able man and I believed that they missed him. That might be but I was not in the mood to release him, though I heard rumors that he was pining away in the Tower.

“Because he misses his playmate Bessie Throckmorton?” I asked.

“He says it is because he is denied Your Majesty's presence.”

“Fine words. Raleigh was always good at them.”

He clearly had his friends who were anxious to help and they brought these accounts to me.

I had passed along the river in my barge, I was told, and through his barred window Raleigh had caught sight of me. He had been overcome with frustration. He said he knew how Tantalus had felt, and he had made a futile attempt to dash out of his prison and escape. He had, of course, been caught by his guards.

“They will doubtless keep a closer guard on him in future,” was my comment.

It was not long after that when Robert Cecil mentioned that he had received a letter from Raleigh. “He mentions Your Majesty,” said Cecil.

“Is that so?” I asked with indifference.

“In fact, Your Majesty,” was the answer, “he talks and writes of nothing else.”

“Perhaps he is a little more thoughtful of my wishes in prison than he was in prosperity.”

“He is a man, Your Majesty,” persisted Cecil,” and men fall into these temptations.”

Of course he was right. I had understood in the case of Robert and Essex. What infuriated me was that these men were telling me that they lived only to serve me while they behaved shamefully in corners with my voluptuous maids of honor.

Seeing me softening a little Cecil said: “I should like permission to show you his letter, Your Majesty.”

I held out my hand.

“How can I live alone in prison while she is afar off—I, who was wont to behold her, riding like Alexander, hunting like Diana, walking like Venus—the gentle wind blowing her fair hair about her pure cheeks, like a nymph. Sometimes sitting in the shade like a goddess, sometimes playing on the lute like Orpheus. But once amiss, hath bereaved me of all. All those times are past, the loves, the sighs, the sorrows, the desires, can they not weigh down one frail misfortune?”

I liked what I read. Raleigh had always had a fluent pen and flowery words at his disposal. I knew of course that the letter had been written for my eyes to see. He had known his good friend Cecil was hoping to get him released from the Tower in order to help to put a stop to Essex's increasing rise to fortune. Raleigh had been his only serious rival. I saw through it all. But I did like the tone of the letter, and to know how much he was longing to come back to Court.

I handed the letter back to Cecil in silence.

“Would Your Majesty consider …” he began timidly.

“Yes, yes,” I said. “I promise nothing, but I will consider.”

But I let two months pass before I gave the order for his release. Even then I would not receive him at Court.

I heard that he had married Bess Throckmorton. “And about time too,” I said.

They went down to Sherborne but I knew that he was longing to come back to Court, and I supposed I would allow him to…in due course.

ESSEX WAS CONSTANTLY worrying me to receive his mother at Court. I was set against it. I might in time forgive Frances Walsingham and Bessie Throckmorton, but one I would never forgive was Lettice Knollys. Seeing her would be too painful for me. I knew that she was very beautiful… even now; she had a young husband whom she had married as soon as possible after Robert's death, and there had been unpleasant rumors about her relationship with Christopher Blount before she married him. To me she would always be the she-wolf.

But she was Essex's mother. That always seemed ironical to me. With the two men whom I had most deeply loved, Lettice had been on the most intimate terms—the wife of one; the mother of the other. I could forgive her for the latter, but never for the former. Robert would always be supreme in my life and much of the savor of it had gone with his death; and she had been his wife. He had married her in spite of the fact that he knew how I would feel about the marriage. He could have ruined his career at Court and that he had done for her sake. Perhaps he had been sure of my unswerving love for him. But he had taken a mighty risk… and for her… that worthless she-wolf, who, some said, had been trifling with Blount while Robert was yet alive—and even worse that she had hastened Robert's end.