Proceeding to Traitor’s Gate, the old knight embarked in a wherry with four soldiers and a herald, and was rowed towards the hostile party. As he drew near the Surrey side of the water, Wyat’s sentinels presented their calivers at him; but as soon as they perceived he was attended by a herald, they allowed him to approach. On learning his errand, Wyat, contrary to the advice of the Duke of Suffolk and Lord Guilford Dudley, determined to accompany him.
“You will fall into some snare,” observed Dudley, “and lose the day when you have all but gained it.”
“Have no fears,” replied Wyat. “We shall conquer without striking a blow. Mary would not have made this proposal to me had she not felt certain of defeat.”
“But dare you trust her?” demanded Suffolk.
“Sir Henry Bedingfeld has pledged his word for my safe return, and I know him too well to doubt it. Farewell, my lords. We shall meet again in an hour.”
“I much doubt if we shall meet again at all,” observed Dudley to the duke, as Wyat stepped into Bedingfeld’s wherry, which was rowed swiftly across the river, and presently disappeared beneath the gloomy arch of Traitor’s Gate.
Ushered into the council-chamber, Wyat found Mary seated on a chair of state placed at the head of a row of chairs near a partition dividing the vast apartment, and covered with arras representing various naval engagements. The wooden pillars supporting the roof were decorated with panoplies; and through an opening on the right of the queen, Wyat perceived a band of armed men, with their leader at their head, cased in steel, and holding a drawn sword in his hand. Noticing these formidable preparations with some uneasiness, he glanced inquiringly at Bedingfeld.
“Fear nothing,” observed the old knight. “My head shall answer for yours.”
Thus re-assured, Wyat advanced more confidently towards the queen, and when within a few paces of her, paused and drew himself up to his full height. Bedingfeld took up a station on the right of the royal chair, and supported himself on his huge two-handed sword. On the left stood Gardiner and Renard.
“I have sent for you, traitor and rebel that you are,” commenced Mary, “to know why you have thus incited my subjects to take up arms against me?”
“I am neither traitor nor rebel, madam,” replied Wyat, “as I have already declared to one of your council, and I but represent the mass of your subjects, who being averse to your union with the Prince of Spain, since you refuse to listen to their prayers, are determined to make themselves heard.”
“Ha! God’s death! sir,” cried Mary, furiously, “do you, or do any of my subjects think they can dispose of me in marriage as they think proper? But this is an idle pretext. Your real object is the subversion of my government, and my dethronement. You desire to place the Princess Elizabeth on the throne, and in default of her, the Lady Jane Grey.”
“I desire to uphold your majesty’s authority,” replied Wyat, “provided you will comply with my demands.”
“Demands!” cried Mary, stamping her foot, while her eyes flashed fire. “It is the first time such a term has been used to me, and it shall be the last. In God’s name, what are your demands? Speak, man.”
“These, madam,” replied Wyat, firmly. “I demand the custody of the Tower, the care of your royal person, the dismissal of your council, and the head of your false counsellor, Simon Renard.”
“Will nothing less content you?” inquired Mary, sarcastically.
“Nothing,” returned Wyat.
“I pray your majesty to allow me to punish the insolence of this daring traitor,” cried Renard, in extremity of fury.
“Peace, sir,” rejoined Mary, majestically. “Now hear me in turn, thou traitor Wyat. No man ever dictated terms to my father, and, by his memory! none shall do so to me. At once, and peremptorily, I reject your conditions; and had not Sir Henry Bedingfeld pledged his word for your safety, my guards should have led you from hence to the scaffold. Quit my presence, and as I would rather be merciful than severe, and spare the lives of my subjects than destroy them, if you disperse your host, and submit yourself to my mercy, I will grant you a free pardon. Otherwise, nothing shall save you.”