The Fortunes of Perkin Warbeck by Mary Shelley

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-"Your love and pity doth th' impression fill. Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow; For what care I who calls me well or ill. So you o'erskreen my bad--my good allow? --SHAKSPEARE.

On the fourth day of her restraint, imprisonment it could hardly be called, Lady Katherine was brought up to Westminster; she was carried in a close litter, and no familiar face or accustomed attendant came near. Her anxiety, her anguish weighed intolerably upon her--sleep had not visited her eyes; she lived in perpetual terror that each sound was freighted with fatal tidings. It was in vain that even reason bade her nourish hope--a stronger power than reason dwelt in her heart, turning all its yearnings to despair.

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