ition, that she often summons up courage even to contradict
him, and to set her own will in opposition to his. That shall be her
ruin this very day! For mark well, earl; the king is now again like a
tiger that has been long fasting. He thirsts for blood! The queen has
an aversion to human blood, and she is horrified when she hears of
executions. So we must manage that these opposing inclinations may come
into contact, and contend with each other."

"Oh, I understand now," whispered Douglas; "and I bow in reverence
before the wisdom of your highness. You will let them both contend with
their own weapons."

"I will point out a welcome prey to his appetite for blood, and give her
silly compassion an opportunity to contend with the king for his prey.
Do you not think, earl, that this will be an amusing spectacle, and one
refreshing to the heart, to see how the tiger and dove struggle with
each other? And I tell you the tiger thirsts so much for blood! Blood is
the only balm that he applies to his aching limbs, and by which alone
he imagines that he can restore peace and courage to his tortured
conscience and his dread of death. Ah, ha! we have told him that, with
each new execution of a heretic, one of his great sins would be blotted
out, and that the blood of the Calvinists serves to wash out of his
account-book some of his evil deeds. He would be so glad to be able to
appear pure and guiltless before the tribunal of his God! Therefore
he needs very much heretical blood. But hark--the hour strikes which
summons me to the royal chamber! There has been enough of the queen's
laughing and chit-chat. We will now endeavor to banish the smile forever
from her face. She is a heretic; and it is a pious work, well pleasing
to God, if we plunge her headlong into ruin!"

"May God be with your highness, and assist you by His grace, that you
may accomplish this sublime work!"

"God will be with us, my son, since for Him it is that we labor and
harass ourselves. To His honor and praise we bring these misbelieving
heretics to the stake, and make the air re-echo with the agonizing
shrieks of those who are racked and tortured. That is music well
pleasing to God; and the angels in heaven will triumph and be glad when
the heretical and infidel Queen Catharine also has to strike up this
music of the damned. Now I go to the holy labor of love and godly wrath.
Pray for me, my son, that I may succeed. Remain here in the anteroom,
and await my