Vespers

Vespers

(Lady Jane Grey, a Spirit)



The 53rd Psalm (quoted by Jane at the block) 
The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. Corrupt are they, and have done 
abominable iniquity: there is none that doeth good. 
God looked down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that
did 
understand, that did seek God. 
Every one of them is gone back: they are altogether become filthy; there is none that 
doeth good, no, not one. 
Have the workers of iniquity no knowledge? who eat up my people as they eat bread: 
they have not called upon God. 
There were they in great fear, where no fear was: for God hath scattered the bones of
him 
that encampeth against thee: thou has put them to shame, because God hath despised
him. 
Oh that the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion! When God bringeth back the 
captivity of his people, Jacob shall rejoice, and Israel shall be glad. 


Cold. Neverending cold-- 
Fingers that should not feel, yet did, played across the stones, feeling the icy tingle as they
passed through the Tower's very walls. Feet without sound stepped upon the moss-guilded
path toward Traitor's Gate. 
A spirit, Jane passed inside and outside of time, back to the day when her cousin,
Elizabeth, had passed through this very gate. Yesterday? Today? A moment ago? She
could not discern such things very well. Not anymore. And what did it matter? 
A moment ago, Elizabeth had passed through that gate, brought to the Tower on the
orders of her sister, Mary: 
"God looked down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did
understand, that did seek God...." 
And there was one--goodly Elizabeth had come through Traitor's Gate. Nay, she thought
now--Gate of Mercy, as the savior returning from the Holy Mount. 
Within the Bell Tower, Jane clung close to Elizabeth as she shivered there, wrapping her
arms around and through this princess with whom she had played once as a child. 
"Take comfort in thy reason; derive constancy from thy heart," she whispered, unheard. 
In the next moment, Elizabeth was queen, and the sun shone upon the ravens, even in the
darkness of the night; upon the Green. Jane's mind--such as it remained--spun. 
I have found no mercy; no justice, save this, she thought: That Elizabeth be queen, a true
believer, and I ever watchful of her. 
Upon the Green, she knelt once more beside the block--again, the blackness of the
blindfold; the smell of the straw. Her hands moved to grasp its edges, fumbling once more,
as she had that day. She felt the tinge of metal within and without her neck once more, and
her throat closed in upon itself, as she wept ectoplasmic tears, and she prayed: 
"Thy Devine Majesty grant her such spirit and grace that she may govern to Thy glory and
service, and to the advantage of the realm...." 
A lone raven cawed in the midnight darkness; wind swept the stones and scratched
crumpled leaves across the green--dead things, whispering. Tears wet the block like
morning dew as the sun rose, the pale figure of the maid fading with the coming dawn,
until their wetness was all that remained.