Chapter III: Act THE SECOND: Scene I

_An Antichamber in the Palace._

_Enter BURLEIGH._

_Bur._ Essex arrived! Confusion to my hopes! His presence will destroy me with the queen. I much suspect he had some private notice, Perhaps, a punctual order, to return. He lurks too near her heart.--What's to be done? Now is the important crisis-- Keep up thy usual strength, my better genius! Direct my steps to crush my mortal foe.

_Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and RALEIGH._

_Qu. Eliz._ It cannot be! Return'd without my leave! Against my strict command!--Impossible!

_Ral._ Madam, the earl is now at court, and begs An audience of your majesty.

_Qu. Eliz._ Amazing! What! break his trust! desert his high command, Forsake his post, and disobey his queen! 'Tis false--invented all.--You wish it so.

_Bur._ Madam, I wish some other rumours false; Reports, I fear, of great concern to you.

_Qu. Eliz._ What rumours? what reports? your frown would much Denote: your preface seems important.--Speak.

_Bur._ Some new commotions are of late sprung up In Ireland, where the west is all in arms, And moves with hasty march to join Tyrone, And all his northern clans. A dreadful power! Nay, more; we have advices from the borders, Of sudden risings, near the banks of Tweed; 'Tis thought to favour an attempt from Scotland. Meanwhile, Tyrone embarks six thousand men To land at Milford, and to march where Essex Shall join them with his friends.

_Qu. Eliz._ (_Apart._) In league with James! And plotting with Tyrone! It cannot be. His very pride disdains such perfidy. But is not Essex here without my leave! Against my strict command! that, that's rebellion. The rest, if true, or false, it matters not. What's to be done?--admit him to my presence? No, no--my dignity, my pride forbid it. Ungrateful man, approach me not; rise, rise, Resentment, and support my soul! Disdain, Do thou assist me--Yes, it shall be so.

_Bur._ I see she muses deep; Tyrone's invasion wakes her fear and anger, And all her soul is one continued storm.

_Qu. Eliz._ For once my pride shall stoop; and I will see This rash, audacious, this once favour'd man; But treat him as his daring crimes deserve.

_Enter SOUTHAMPTON._

_South._ [_Kneeling._] Permit me, madam, to approach you thus; Thus lowly to present the humble suit Of the much-injured, faithful Earl of Essex, Who dares not, unpermitted, meet your presence. He begs, most gracious queen, to fall before Your royal feet, to clear him to his sovereign, Whom, next to heaven, he wishes most to please. Let faction load him with her labouring hand, His innocence shall rise against the weight, If but his gracious mistress deign to smile.

_Qu. Eliz._ Let him appear. [_Exit SOUTHAMPTON._ Now to thy trying task, My soul! Put forth, exert thy utmost strength, Nor let an injured queen be tame.--Lie still, My heart, I cannot listen to thee now.

_Enter ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON._

_Essex._ Forgive, thou injured majesty, thou best Of Queens, this seeming disobedience. See, I bend submissive in your royal presence, With soul as penitent, as if before The all-searching eye of Heaven. But, oh, that frown! My queen's resentment wounds my inmost spirit, Strikes me like death, and pierces through my heart.

_Qu. Eliz._ You have obey'd, my lord! you've served me well! My deadly foes are quell'd! and you come home A conqueror! Your country bids you welcome! And I, your queen, applaud!--Triumphant man! What! is it thus that Essex gains his laurels? What! is it thus you've borne my high commission? How durst you disregard your trusted duty, Desert your province, and betray your queen?

_Essex._ I came to clear my injured name from guilt, Imputed guilt, and slanderous accusations. My shame was wafted in each passing gale, Each swelling tide came loaded with my wrongs; And echo sounded forth, from faction's voice, The traitor Essex.--Was't not hard, my queen, That, while I stood in danger's dreadful front, Encountering death in every shape of terror, And bleeding for my country--Was't not hard, My mortal enemies at home, like cowards, Should in my absence basely blast my fame?

_Qu. Eliz._ It is the godlike attribute of kings, To raise the virtuous, and protect the brave. I was the guardian of your reputation; What malice, or what faction, then, could reach you? My honour was exposed, engaged for yours: But you found reason to dislike my care, And to yourself assumed the wrested office.

_Essex._ If aught disloyal in this bosom dwells, If aught of treason lodges in this heart, May I to guilt and lasting shame be wedded, The sport of faction, and the mark of scorn, The world's derision, and my queen's abhorrence. Stand forth the villain, whose envenom'd tongue Would taint my honour, and traduce my name, Or stamp my conduct with a rebel's brand! Lives there a monster in the haunts of men, Dares tear my trophies from their pillar'd base, Eclipse my glory, and disgrace my deeds?

_Qu. Eliz._ This ardent language, and this glow of soul, Were nobly graceful in a better cause; Where virtue warrants, and where truth inspires: But injured truth, with brow invincible, Frowns stern reproof upon the false assertion, And contradicts it with the force of facts. From me you have appeal'd, ungrateful man! The laws, not I, must listen to your plea. Go, stand the test severe, abide the trial, And mourn, too late, the bounty you abused. [_Exeunt QUEEN ELIZABETH, SOUTHAMPTON, &c._

_Essex._ Is this the just requital, then, of all My patriot toils, and oft-encounter'd perils, Amidst the inclemencies of camps and climes? Then be it so.----Unmoved and dauntless, let me This shock of adverse fortune firmly stand.

_Enter SOUTHAMPTON._

_South._ Alas, my lord! the queen's displeasure kindles With warmth increasing; whilst Lord Burleigh labours T'inflame her wrath, and make it still burn fiercer.

_Essex._ I scorn the blaze of courts, the pomp of kings; I give them to the winds, and lighter vanity; Too long they've robb'd me of substantial bliss, Of solid happiness, and true enjoyments. But lead me to my mourning love; alas! She sinks beneath oppressing ills; she fades, She dies for my afflicting pangs, and seeks Me, sorrowing, in the walks of woe.--Distraction! Oh, lead me to her, to my soul's desire.

_South._ Let caution guide you in this dangerous step. Consider well, my lord, the consequence-- For should the queen (forbid it, Heaven!) discover Your private loves, your plighted hands, no power On earth could step between you and destruction.

_Enter BURLEIGH._

_Bur._ My lord of Essex, 'tis the queen's command, That you forthwith resign your staff of office; And further, she confines you to your palace.

_Essex._ Welcome, my fate! Let fortune do her utmost; I know the worst, and will confront her malice, And bravely bear the unexpected blow.

_Bur._ The queen, my lord, demands your quick compliance.

_Essex._ Go, then, thou gladsome messenger of ill, And, joyful, feast thy fierce rapacious soul With Essex' sudden and accomplish'd fall. The trampled corse of all his envy'd greatness, Lies prostrate now beneath thy savage feet; But still th' exalted spirit moves above thee. Go, tell the queen thy own detested story: Full in her sight disclose the snaky labyrinths, And lurking snares, you plant in virtue's path, To catch integrity's unguarded step.

_Bur._ Your country has impeach'd, your queen accused you; To these address your best defence, and clear Your question'd conduct from disloyal guilt. What answer to the queen shall I return?

_Essex._ My staff of office I from her received, And will to her, and her alone, resign it.

_Bur._ This bold refusal will incense the queen, This arrogance will make your guilt the stronger. [_Exit._

_South._ Sustain, my noble friend, thy wonted greatness; Collect thy fortitude, and summon all Thy soul, to bear with strength this crushing weight, Which falls severe upon thee; whilst my friendship Shall lend a helping hand, and share the burden. I'll hence with speed, and to the queen repair, And all the power of warmest words employ, To gain you yet one audience more, and bring Her majesty to milder thoughts. Farewell. [_Exit._

_Essex._ As newly waked from all my dreams of glory, Those gilded visions of deceitful joys, I stand confounded at the unlook'd-for change, And scarcely feel this thunderbolt of fate. The painted clouds, which bore my hopes aloft, Alas, are now vanish'd to yielding air, And I am fall'n indeed!-- How weak is reason, when affection pleads! How hard to turn the fond, deluded heart From flatt'ring toys, which sooth'd its vanity! The laurell'd trophy, and the loud applause, The victor's triumph, and the people's gaze; The high-hung banner, and recording gold, Subdue me still, still cling around my heart, And pull my reason down.

_Enter LADY RUTLAND._

_Rut._ Oh, let me fly, To clasp, embrace, the lord of my desires, My soul's delight, my utmost joy, my husband! Once more I hold him in my eager arms, Behold his face, and lose my soul in rapture!

_Essex._ Transporting bliss! my richest, dearest treasure! My mourning turtle, my long-absent peace, Oh, come yet nearer, nearer to my heart! My raptured soul springs forward, to receive thee: Thou heaven on earth, thou balm of all my woe!

_Rut._ Oh, shall I credit, then, each ravish'd sense? Has pitying Heaven consented to my prayer? It has, it has; my Essex is return'd! But language poorly speaks the joys I feel; Let passion paint, and looks express my soul.

_Essex._ With thee, my sweetest comfort, I'll retire From splendid palaces, and glitt'ring throngs, To live embosom'd in the shades of joy, Where sweet content extends her friendly arms, And gives increasing love a lasting welcome. With thee, I'll timely fly from proud oppression. Forget our sorrows, and be bless'd for ever.

_Rut._ Oh! let us hence, beyond the reach of power, Where fortune's hand shall never part us more! In this calm state of innocence and joy, I'll press thee to my throbbing bosom close. Ambition's voice shall call in vain; the world, The thankless world, shall never claim thee more, And all thy business shall be love and me.

_Essex._ The queen, incensed at my return, abandons me To Cecil's malice, and the rage of faction. I'm now no more the fav'rite child of fortune: My enemies have caught me in the toil, And life has nothing worth my wish but thee.

_Rut._ Delusive dream of fancied happiness! And has my fatal fondness then destroy'd thee? Oh, have I lured thee to the deadly snare Thy cruel foes have laid? I dreaded Cecil's malice, and my heart, Longing to see thee, with impatience listen'd To its own alarms; and prudence sunk beneath The force of love.

_Essex._ Forbear, my only comfort; Oh, tell me not of danger, death, and Burleigh; Let every star shed down its mortal bane On my unshelter'd head: whilst thus I fold Thee in my raptured arms, I'll brave them all, Defy my fate, and meet its utmost rigour.

_Rut._ Alas, my lord! consider where we are. Oh, 'tis the queen's apartment; Each precious moment is by fate beset, And time stands trembling whilst we thus confer.

_Essex._ Then, let us hence from this detested place; My rescued soul disdains the house of greatness, Where humble honesty can find no shelter. From hence we'll fly, where love and greatness call; Where happiness invites--that wish of all: With sweet content enjoy each blissful hour, Beyond the smiles of fraud, or frowns of power. [_Exeunt._