While the Queen lived she kept me with her,--she loved me, I think; and the King too was kind,--would have me sing to him, and would talk to me about witchcraft and the Scriptures, and how rebellion to a king is rebellion to God.

When I was sixteen, and he tendered me marriage with a Scotch lord, I, who loved the gentleman not, never having seen him, prayed the King to take the value of my marriage and leave me my freedom.

He was so good to me then that the Scotch lord was wed elsewhere, and I danced at the wedding with a mind at ease.

Time passed, and the King was still my very good lord.
Then, one black day, my Lord Carnal came to court, and the King looked at him oftener than at his Grace of Buckingham.

A few months, and my lord's wish was the King's will.