"And is this an Order belonging to the cruel King of Spain?" said the
Countess. "Alas! my noble lord, that you will defile your noble English
breast by bearing such an emblem! Bethink you of the most unhappy Queen
Mary's days, when this same Philip held sway with her in England, and of
the piles which were built for our noblest, and our wisest, and our most
truly sanctified prelates and divines--and will you, whom men call the
standard-bearer of the true Protestant faith, be contented to wear the
emblem and mark of such a Romish tyrant as he of Spain?"
"Oh, content you, my love," answered the Earl; "we who spread our sails
to gales of court favour cannot always display the ensigns we love the
best, or at all times refuse sailing under colours which we like not.
Believe me, I am not the less good Protestant, that for policy I must
accept the honour offered me by Spain, in admitting me to this his
highest order of knighthood. Besides, it belongs properly to Flanders;
and Egmont, Orange, and others have pride in seeing it displayed on an
English bosom."
"Nay, my lord, you know your own path best," replied the Countess. "And
this other collar, to what country does this fair jewel belong?"
"To a very poor one, my love," replied the Earl; "this is the Order of
Saint Andrew, revived by the last James of Scotland. It was bestowed
on me when it was thought the young widow of France and Scotland would
gladly have wedded an English baron; but a free coronet of England is
worth a crown matrimonial held at the humour of a woman, and owning only
the poor rocks and bogs of the north."
The Countess paused, as if what the Earl last said had excited some
painful but interesting train of thought; and, as she still remained
silent, her husband proceeded:-"And now, loveliest, your wish is gratified, and you have seen your
vassal in such of his trim array as accords with riding vestments; for
robes of state and coronets are only for princely halls."
"Well, then," said the Countess, "my gratified wish has, as usual, given
rise to a new one."
"And what is it thou canst ask that I can deny?" said the fond husband.
"I wished to see my Earl visit this obscure and secret bower," said the
Countess, "in all his princely array; and now, methinks I long to sit in
one of his princely halls, and see him enter dressed in sober russet, as
when he won poor Amy Robsart's heart."