obedience to a law essential to the national independence. To refuse was to confess of a purpose of undoing her father's work, should he die and the crown descend to her. She had supposed that "she was out of her trouble" while she had saved her conscience by the reservation in her submission. Chapuys found her again "in extreme perplexity and anger." The reservation had been observed. The Duke of Norfolk, Lord Sussex, a Bishop, and other Privy Councillors, had come with a message to her, like those which had been so often carried ineffectually to her mother, to represent the necessity of obedience. Chapuys said that she had confounded them with her wise answers, and that, when they could not meet her arguments, they "told her that, if she was their daughter, they would knock her head against the wall till it was as soft as a baked apple." In passing through Mary and through Chapuys the words, perhaps, received some metaphorical additions. It is likely enough, however, that Norfolk, who was supporting her claims with all his power, was irritated at the revival of the old difficulties which he had hoped were removed. The Princess "in her extreme necessity" wrote for advice to the Ambassador. The Emperor was no longer in a condition to threaten, and to secure Mary's place as next in the succession was of too vital importance to the Imperialists to permit them to encourage her in scruples of conscience. Chapuys answered frankly that, if the King persisted, she must do what he required. The Emperor had distinctly said so. Her life was precious, she must hide her real feelings till a time came for the redress of the disorders of the realm. Nothing was demanded of her expressly against God or the Articles of Faith, and God looked to intentions rather than acts.
