To my Cousin, Queen Elizabeth I on the Occasion of My Nuptials

***Foreword: This is not a reflection of my views of the historic rivalry between Queen Elizabeth I and Mary Queen of Scots. It does not seek to rectify the past nor rewrite it. They are two sympathetic women who had to make tough decisions in a man's world. But really this is my story.***                        
                       
                       
Today you are Queen Elizabeth.                        
It suits you just as well.                        
Your middle name is Elizabeth,                        
so I will be that intimate with you:                  
           
You and I were both Queens once.                        
           
We came from illustrious families                        
of wealth, power, and culture --                        
educated by the finest scholars and universities                        
born for more than those plebeians --                        
Yes, Elizabeth, we were more                        
but silently we thought each other inferior                        
and like history, we were queens destined for tragedy.                        
                       
My name isn't Mary, Queen of Scots but          
for our purposes, you can call me that, Elizabeth.                        
We were closer than cousins, we were sisters                        
in name, not blood --                        
You were my dearest companion.                        
Though we were Queens of different nations and beliefs                        
we tried to consider each other equals                        
but were we so in the end?                        
                       
Was anything about your Reign legitimate?                        
You belittled me in secrecy                        
All while claiming unfailing loyalty                        
and you were loyal Elizabeth, my old friend,                   
at least for awhile.                        
But then the tyrants came. Those who would ravage                        
your reputation, and your reign                        
became shrouded in hypocrisy.                        
you claimed yourself devout in your faith                        
and professed yourself as virtuous,                        
Yet, in your midst, stood Robert Dudley                        
to whom I was slandered by you                        
To whom you called me whore                        
and a thousand names I cannot repeat                        
to whom you told lie after lie                        
claiming that I was your oppressor.                        
How could you say such things of your                        
greatest ally? Elizabeth . . .                        
                       
It took years for you to confess:                        
you were, in your heart, afraid                        
he might favor me above you                        
but he was always yours, Elizabeth!                      
I did not want his taint on me, and still                    
you were conniving . . .                        
But your guilt bested you!                        
You could not mask the truth from me:                        
You confessed yourself a slanderer! A liar!                        
In your shame you could only admit                        
this through your letters--                        
you could not even admit in my presence                        
that you were envious, weak, and resentful                        
all while feigning love and devotion.                      
This was your cold strategy--                     
to prevent me from pursuing a throne rightfully mine!                   
                       
And Dudley? He gave you false promises of marriage                        
and I warned you cousin not to be deceived                        
I reminded you to keep to the true faith of the Catholics                        
(Which you converted to) but you                    
refused, because like Queens before you                        
you were too stubborn to admit wrongdoing                        
                       
and so, you were brutally humiliated                        
before your whole court and country                        
After bragging unabashedly how he would marry        
You within the year and then would make,      
as you said, "an honest woman    
of you." My sister . . .            
it has been four years since that day                        
and still you are unwed                        
                       
And remember, Elizabeth, when you told me                        
I would not marry for many years . . .                        
that maybe if I improved my figure and eloquence...                        
Maybe then I would find a match      
You lectured me, cousin      
As if I were a child!      
Reminding me that if I was not so practical      
Men might find me more charming        
       
                     
                       
But Mark my Queen! Mark!                        
How your prophesied your great success!                        
A victory announced too soon                        
Now results in humbleness!                        
Your Dudley does not honour you                        
He tramples you beneath his feet                        
He treats you as his property                        
And not a rightful Queen of dignity                        
and like a dog, you trailed along                        
denying your assumptions wrong.                      
instead you denounced me as your foe,                   
who would've comforted you in your woes!                   
                       
You could have come to me Elizabeth                        
my ear would give you sympathy                        
instead your pride, your monstrous pride,                        
sparked a ruthless rivalry!                        
you relinquished your faith and honour                        
and left me on my wedding day                        
When you could have stood beside me                        
As my cherished maid of honor,                      
my friend of seven years, though to me                       
It was a lifetime . . .                        
Yes, it was you who abandoned me,                    
as if sending me off to my execution--                        
thinking there would no triumph be!                       
                       
But I have found myself a gracious King                        
I have fought the good fight                        
I have finished the race                        
I have kept the faith*                        
and my virtue                        
and no axe or blade can take that from me                        
                       
and like the two queens of history                        
one Queen shall be, as ever, reviled                        
while the other remains forever undefiled . . .                        
But which is which? No tongue can tell.                        
Which dwells in heaven and which in hell.                        
Or perhaps, my friend, like us,                        
both Queens were pawns                        
in a game of Chess,                        
I suppose that now it's up to you                        
to say whom played it best.                        
                       
                       
** 2 Timothy 4:7