d further, I pray you, use all
possible diligence and endeavour to pursue and promote, at the pope's
and other kings' hand, such a speedy execution of their former
designments, that the same may be effectuated sometime this next
spring." &c. It must be confessed, that after such a letter Mary had
little right to complain of the failure of these negotiations. The
countess of Shrewsbury, now at open variance with her husband, had
employed every art to infuse into the queen suspicions of a too great
intimacy subsisting between the earl and his prisoner; and Elizabeth,
either from a jealousy which the long fidelity of Shrewsbury to his
arduous trust was unable to counteract, or, as was believed, at the
instigation of some who meant further mischief to Mary, ordered about
this time her removal to the custody of sir Amias Paulet and sir Drugo
Drury.

This change filled the mind of the captive queen with terror, which
prepared her to listen with avidity to any schemes, however desperate,
for her own deliverance and the destruction of her enemy; and proved the
prelude to that tragical castastrophe which was now advancing fast upon
her.

A violent quarrel between Mary and the countess of Shrewsbury had
naturally resulted from the conduct of this furious woman; and Mary,
whose passions, whether fierce or tender, easily hurried her beyond the
bounds of decency and of prudence, gratified her resentment at once
against the countess and the queen by addressing to Elizabeth a letter
which could never be forgiven or forgotten. In this piece, much too
gross for insertion in the present work, she professes to comply with
the request of her royal sister, by acquainting her very exactly with
all the evil of every kind that the countess of Shrewsbury had ever
spoken of her majesty in her hearing. She then proceeds to repeat or
invent all that the most venomous malice could devise against the
character of Elizabeth: as, that she had conferred her favors on a
nameless person (probably Leicester) to whom she had promised marriage;
on the duke of Anjou, on Simier, on Hatton and others; that the latter
was quite disgusted with her fondness; that she was generous to none but
these favorites, &c. That her conceit of her beauty was such, that no
flattery could be too gross for her to swallow; and that this folly was
the theme of ridicule to all her courtiers, who would often pretend that
their eyes were unable to sustain the radiance of her count