came to her.

Then Babington's confession was read to her; but she replied that
she did not know what was meant; that besides, if Babington and his
accomplices had said such things, they were base men, false and liars.

"Besides," added she, "show me my handwriting and my signature, since
you say that I wrote to Babington, and not copies counterfeited like
these which you have filled at your leisure with the falsehoods it has
pleased you to insert."

Then she was shown the letter that Babington, it was said, had written
her. She glanced at it; then said, "I have no knowledge of this letter".
Upon this, she was shown her reply, and she said again, "I have no more
knowledge of this answer. If you will show me my own letter and my own
signature containing what you say, I will acquiesce in all; but up
to the present, as I have already told you, you have produced nothing
worthy of credence, unless it be the copies you have invented and added
to with what seemed good to you."

With these words, she rose, and with her eyes full of tears--

"If I have ever," said she, "consented to such intrigues, having for
object my sister's death, I pray God that He have neither pity nor mercy
on me. I confess that I have written to several persons, that I
have implored them to deliver me from my wretched prisons, where I
languished, a captive and ill-treated princess, for nineteen years and
seven months; but it never occurred to me, even in thought, to write
or even to desire such things against the queen. Yes, I also confess to
having exerted myself for the deliverance of some persecuted Catholics,
and if I had been able, and could yet, with my own blood, protect them
and save them from their pains, I would have done it, and would do it
for them with all my power, in order to save them from destruction."

Then, turning to the secretary, Walsingham--

"But, my lord," said she, "from the moment I see you here, I know whence
comes this blow: you have always been my greatest enemy and my son's,
and you have moved everyone against me and to my prejudice."

Thus accused to his face, Walsingham rose.

"Madam," he replied, "I protest before God, who is my witness, that
you deceive yourself, and that I have never done anything against
you unworthy of a good man, either as an individual or as a public
personage."

This is all that was said and done that day in the proceedings, till
the next day, when the queen was again obliged to appear