When did I that, my lord? Let them produce

         The documents.

                 You have already seen them

         They were before the court, presented to you.

         Mere copies written by another hand;

         Show me the proof that they were dictated

         By me, that they proceeded from my lips,

         And in those very terms in which you read them.

         Before his execution, Babington

         Confessed they were the same which he received.

         Why was he in his lifetime not produced

         Before my face? Why was he then despatched

         So quickly that he could not be confronted

         With her whom he accused?

                       Besides, my lady,

         Your secretaries, Curl and Nau, declare

         On oath, they are the very selfsame letters

         Which from your lips they faithfully transcribed.

         And on my menials' testimony, then,

         I am condemned; upon the word of those

         Who have betrayed me, me, their rightful queen!

         Who in that very moment, when they came

         As witnesses against me, broke their faith!

         You said yourself, you held your countryman

         To be an upright, conscientious man.

         I thought him such; but 'tis the hour of danger

         Alone, which tries the virtue of a man.

         In understanding; and his subtle comrade,

         Whose faith, observe, I never answered for,

         Might easily seduce him to write down

         More than he should;] the rack may have compelled him

         To say and to confess more than he knew.

         He hoped to save himself by this false witness,

         And thought it could not injure me – a queen.

         The oath he swore was free and unconstrained.

         But not before my face! How now, my lord?

         The witnesses you name are still alive;

         Let them appear against me face to face,

         And there repeat what they have testified.

         Why am I then denied that privilege,

         That right which e'en the murderer enjoys?

         I know from Talbot's mouth, my former keeper,

         That in this reign a statute has been passed

         Which orders that the plaintiff be confronted

         With the defendant; is it so, good Paulet?

         I e'er have known you as an honest man;

         Now prove it to me; tell me, on your conscience,

         If such a law exist or not in England?

         Madam, there does: that is the law in England.

         I must declare the truth.

                       Well, then, my lord,

         If I am treated by the law of England

         So hardly, when that law oppresses me,

         Say, why avoid this selfsame country's law,

         When 'tis for my advantage? Answer me;

         Why was not Babington confronted with me?

         Why not my servants, who are both alive?

         Be not so hasty, lady; 'tis not only

         Your plot with Babington —

                       'Tis that alone

         Which arms the law against me; that alone

         From which I'm called upon to clear myself.

         Stick to the point, my lord; evade it not.

         It has been proved that you have corresponded

         With the ambassador of Spain, Mendoza —

         Stick to the point, my lord.

                        That you have formed

         Conspiracies to overturn the fixed

         Religion of the realm; that you have called

         Into this kingdom foreign powers, and roused

         All kings in Europe to a war with England.

         And were it so, my lord – though I deny it —

         But e'en suppose it were so: I am kept

         Imprisoned here against all laws of nations.

         I came not into England sword in hand;

         I came a suppliant; and at the hands

         Of my imperial kinswoman I claimed

         The sacred rights of hospitality,

         When power seized upon me, and prepared

         To rivet fetters where I hoped protection.

         Say, is my conscience bound, then, to this realm?

         What are the duties that I owe to England?

         I should but exercise a sacred right,

         Derived from sad necessity, if I

         Warred with these bonds, encountered might with might,

         Roused and incited every state in Europe

         For my protection to unite in arms.

         Whatever in a rightful war is just

         And loyal, 'tis my right to exercise: