"Do you not see that for an hour this woman answers our proposals only by insults ?" "Yes, let us go," said Ruthven; "and thank yourself only, madam, for the day when the thread breaks which holds the sword suspended over your head." "My lords," cried Melville, "my lords, in Heaven's name, a little patience, and forgive something to her who, accustomed to command, is today forced to obey." "Very well," said Lindsay, turning round, "stay with her, then, and try to obtain by your smooth words what is refused to our frank and loyal demand.

In a quarter of an hour we shall return: let the answer be ready in a quarter of an hour!" With these words, the two noblemen went out, leaving Melville with the queen; and one could count their footsteps, from the noise that Lindsay's great sword made, in resounding on each step of the staircase.
Scarcely were they alone than Melville threw himself at the queen's feet.
"Madam," said he, "you remarked just now that Lord Herries and my brother had given your Majesty advice that you repented not having followed; well, madam, reflect on that I in my turn give you; for it is more important than the other, for you will regret with still more bitterness not having listened to it.

Ah! you do not know what may happen, you are ignorant of what your brother is capable." "It seems to me, however," returned the queen, "that he has just instructed me on that head: what more will he do than he has done already?
A public trial! Oh! it is all I ask: let me only plead my cause, and we shall see what judges will dare to condemn me." "But that is what they will take good care not to do, madam; for they would be mad to do it when they keep you here in this isolated castle, in the care of your enemies, having no witness but God, who avenges crime, but who does not prevent it.

Recollect, madam, what Machiavelli has said, 'A king's tomb is never far from his prison.' You come of a family in which one dies young, madam, and almost always of a sudden death: two of your ancestors perished by steel, and one by poison." "Oh, if my death were sudden and easy," cried Mary, "yes, I should accept it as an expiation for my faults; for if I am proud when I compare myself with others, Melville, I am humble when I judge myself.

I am unjustly accused of being an accomplice of Darnley's death, but I am justly condemned for having married Bothwell." "Time presses, madam; time presses," cried Melville, looking at the sand, which, placed on the table, was marking the time.