It is quite true that the danger to England was great, but that danger in any event was to be confronted--Philip was to be defied, and, by assuming the cause of the Provinces to be her own, which it unquestionably was, Elizabeth was taking the diadem from her head--as the King of Sweden well observed--and adventuring it upon the doubtful chance of war.

Would it not have been better then--her mind being once made up--promptly to accept all the benefits, as well as all the hazards, of the bold game to which she was of necessity a party?
But she could not yet believe in the incredible meanness of Henry III.

"I asked her Majesty" (3rd May, 1585), said Ortel, "whether, in view of these vast preparations in France, it did not behove her to be most circumspect and upon her guard.

For, in the opinion of many men, everything showed one great scheme already laid down--a general conspiracy throughout Christendom against the reformed religion.

She answered me, that thus far she could not perceive this to be the case; 'nor could she believe,' she said, 'that the King of France could be so faint-hearted as to submit to such injuries from the Guises.'" Time was very soon to show the nature of that unhappy monarch with regard to injuries, and to prove to Elizabeth the error she had committed in doubting his faint-heartedness.