For My Eyes, Part 2

Abstract

I can hear the click of their cups and feel the midnight breeze chivalrous

as it forages through silken folds, my head heavy on the velvet cushions,

reclining in that long summer heat. And laughter comes as down a pulpit,

the Thames swirling with one voice— your voice— tonic to my spirits.

By candlelight and gaiety you buoyed me beyond the old business of rule. We two were too much together, too bold in our silliness. Remember being aboard the royal barge? The Spanish Bishop bore our teasing when you asked him to marry us there on that boat.

She was so grieved that for some days she shut herself in her chamber alone, and refused to speak to anyone until the Treasurer and other Councillors had the doors broken open and entered to see her.

—Informant of Spanish spy Don Bernardino de Mendoza¹