Chapter IV: Act THE THIRD: Scene I

_An Apartment in the Palace._

_Enter BURLEIGH and LADY NOTTINGHAM._

_Not._ My lord, I've sought you out with much impatience. You've had an audience of the queen: what follow'd?

_Bur._ Soon as I told her, Essex had refused To yield his dignities, and staff of office, Against her high command, pronounced by me, She seem'd deprived of reason for a moment; Her working mind betray'd contending passions; She paused, like thunder in some kindling cloud, Then instant burst with dreadful fury forth: "And has th' ungrateful wretch defy'd my mandate? The proud, audacious traitor, scorn'd my power? He dares not, sure?--He dies--the villain dies!" I instantly withdrew, But soon was countermanded, and desired To bring the Earl of Essex to her presence. I like it not; and much I fear she'll stand Between this high offender and the laws.

_Not._ Is Essex then secured?

_Bur._ Madam, he is; And now comes guarded to the court.

_Enter GENTLEMAN._

_Gent._ Madam, the queen Is in her closet, and desires to see you. [_Exit._

_Not._ I attend her.

_Bur._ She wants, no doubt, to be advised by you. Improve this fair occasion, urge it home.

_Not._ I know her foible. Essex long has had An interest in her heart, which nothing can O'erturn, except his own ungovern'd spirit: It is, indeed, the instrument by which We work, and cannot fail, if rightly used.

_Bur._ Madam, the queen expects you instantly. I must withdraw, and wait the earl's arrival. [_Exeunt severally._

SCENE II

_The Queen's Closet._

_QUEEN ELIZABETH discovered._

_Qu. Eliz._ Ill-fated, wretched man! perverse and obstinate! He counterworks my grace, and courts destruction. He gives his deadly foes the dagger to Destroy him, and defeats my friendly purpose, Which would, by seeming to abandon, save him. Nor will he keep the mask of prudence on A moment's space.--What! must I bear this scorn! No: let me all the monarch re-assume; Exert my power, and be myself again. Oh, ill-performing, disobedient, heart! Why shrink'st thou, fearful, from thy own resolve?

_Enter LADY NOTTINGHAM._

Thou comest in time; I'm much disturb'd, abused, My Nottingham, and would complain to thee Of insolence, neglect, and high contempt. Essex presumed to dictate laws within My palace gates. How say'st thou, Nottingham?

_Not._ Surely, my gracious queen, it cannot be! His heat and passion never could impel him To take so bold a step, to such rash guilt: Methinks his very honour should prevent it.

_Qu. Eliz._ This haughty man has wanton'd with my grace, Abused my bounty, and despised my favours.

_Not._ His conduct has, I fear, been too unguarded: His hasty temper knows not where to stop. Ambition is the spur of all his actions, Which often drives him o'er his duty's limits; (At least his enemies would have it so.) But malice, madam, seldom judges right.

_Qu. Eliz._ Oh, Nottingham! his pride is past enduring; This insolent, audacious man, forgets His honour and allegiance;--and refused To render up his staff of office, here, Beneath my very eye.

_Not._ Presumptuous man! Your faithful subjects will resent this pride, This insolence, this treason to their queen; They must, my gracious sovereign. 'Tis not safe To shield him longer from their just resentment. Then give him up to justice and the laws.

_Qu. Eliz._ You seem well pleased to urge severity. Offended majesty but seldom wants Such sharp advisers--Yet no attribute So well befits the exalted seat supreme, And power's disposing hand, as clemency. Each crime must from its quality be judged; And pity there should interpose, where malice Is not the aggressor.

_Not._ Madam, my sentiments were well intended; Justice, not malice, moved my honest zeal. My words were echoes of the public voice, Which daily rises, with repeated cries Of high complaint against this haughty lord. I pity, from my heart, his rash attempts, And much esteem the man.

_Qu. Eliz._ Go, Nottingham, My mind's disturbed, and send me Rutland hither. [_Exit LADY NOTTINGHAM._ O vain distinction of exalted state! No rank ascends above the reach of care, Nor dignity can shield a queen from woe. Despotic nature's stronger sceptre rules, And pain and passion in her right prevails. Oh, the unpity'd lot, severe condition, Of solitary, sad, dejected grandeur! Alone condemn'd to bear th' unsocial throb Of heartfelt anguish, and corroding grief; Deprived of what, within his homely shed, The poorest peasant in affliction finds, The kind, condoling, comfort of a dear Partaking friend.

_Enter LADY RUTLAND._

Rutland, I want thy timely Counsel. I'm importuned, and urged to punish-- But justice, sometimes, has a cruel sound. Essex has, No doubt, provoked my anger, and the laws; His haughty conduct calls for sharp reproof, And just correction. Yet I think him guiltless Of studied treasons, or design'd rebellion. Then, tell me, Rutland, what the world reports, What censure says of his unruly deeds.

_Rut._ The world, with envy's eye, beholds his merit; Madam, 'tis malice all, and false report. I know his noble heart, 'tis fill'd with honour; No trait'rous taint has touch'd his generous soul; His grateful mind still glows with pure affection; And all his thoughts are loyalty and you.

_Qu. Eliz._ I grant you, Rutland, all you say; and think The earl possess'd of many splendid virtues. What pity 'tis, he should afford his foes Such frequent, sad occasions to undo him!

_Rut._ What human heart can, unafflicted, bear Such manly merit in distress, beset By cruel foes, and faction's savage cry? My good, my gracious mistress, stretch, betimes, Your saving arm, and snatch him from destruction, From deadly malice, treachery, and Cecil. Oh, let him live, to clear his conduct up! My gracious queen, he'll nobly earn your bounty, And with his dearest blood deserve your mercy.

_Qu. Eliz._ Her words betray a warm, unusual, fervour; Mere friendship never could inspire this transport. [_Aside._ I never doubted but the earl was brave; His life and valiant actions all declare it: I think him honest too, but rash and headstrong. I gladly would preserve him from his foes, And therefore am resolved once more to see him.

_Rut._ Oh, 'tis a godlike thought, and Heav'n itself Inspires it. Sure some angel moves your heart, Your royal heart, to pity and forgiveness. This gracious deed shall shine in future story, And deck your annals with the brightest virtue; Posterity shall praise the princely act, And ages yet to come record your goodness.

_Qu. Eliz._ I'll hear no more--Must I then learn from you To know my province, and be taught to move, As each designing mind directs?--Leave me.

_Rut._ Her frowns are dreadful, and her eye looks terror. I tremble for my Essex. Save him, Heav'n! [_Exit._

_Qu. Eliz._ Her warmth has touch'd me home. My jealous heart, My fearful and suspicious soul's alarm'd.

_Enter BURLEIGH, RALEIGH, and GENTLEMEN._

_Bur._ The Earl of Essex waits your royal will.

_Qu. Eliz._ Let him approach--And now once more support Thy dignity, my soul; nor yield thy greatness To strong usurping passion--But he comes.

_Enter ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON._

_Essex._ Permitted thus to bend, with prostrate heart, [_Kneels._ Before your sacred majesty; I come, With every grateful sense of royal favour Deeply engraved within my conscious soul.

_Qu. Eliz._ I sent my orders for your staff of office.

_Essex._ Madam, my envy'd dignities and honours, I first from your own royal hand received, And therefore justly held it far beneath me To yield my trophies, and exalted power, So dearly purchased in the field of glory, To hands unworthy. No, my gracious queen, I meant to lay them at your royal feet; Where life itself a willing victim falls, If you command.

_Qu. Eliz._ High swelling words, my lord, but ill supply The place of deeds, and duty's just demand. In danger's onset, and the day of trial, Conviction still on acting worth attends; Whilst mere professions are by doubts encumber'd.

_Essex._ My deeds have oft declared in danger's front How far my duty and my valour lead me. Allegiance still my thirst of glory fired, And all my bravely gather'd, envy'd laurels Were purchased only to adorn my queen:

_Qu. Eliz._ Your guilty scorn of my entrusted power, When with my mortal foes you tamely dally'd, By hardy rebels braved, you poorly sought A servile pause, and begg'd a shameful truce. Should Essex thus, so meanly compromise, And lose the harvest of a plenteous glory, In idle treaties, and suspicious parley?

_Essex._ O, deadly stroke! My life's the destined mark. The poison'd shaft has drank my spirits deep.-- Is't come to this? Conspire with rebels! Ha! I've served you, madam, with the utmost peril, And ever gloried in th' illustrious danger, Where famine faced me with her meagre mien, And pestilence and death brought up her train. I've fought your battles, in despite of nature, Where seasons sicken'd, and the clime was fate. My power to parley, or to fight, I had From you; the time and circumstance did call Aloud for mutual treaty and condition; For that I stand a guarded felon here; a traitor, Hemm'd in by villains, and by slaves surrounded.

_Qu. Eliz._ Shall added insolence, with crest audacious, Her front uplift against the face of power? Think not that injured majesty will bear Such arrogance uncheck'd, or unchastised. No public trust becomes the man, who treads, With scornful steps, in honour's sacred path, And stands at bold defiance with his duty.

_Essex._ Away with dignities and hated trust, With flattering honours, and deceitful power! Invert th' eternal rules of right and justice; Let villains thrive, and outcast virtue perish; Let slaves be raised, and cowards have command. Take, take your gaudy trifles back, those baits Of vice, and virtue's bane. 'Tis clear, my queen, My royal mistress, casts me off; nay, joins With Cecil to destroy my life and fame.

_Qu. Eliz._ Presuming wretch! Audacious traitor!

_Essex._ Traitor!

_Qu. Eliz._ Hence from my sight, ungrateful slave, and learn At distance to revere your queen!

_Essex._ Yes; let Me fly beyond the limits of the world, And nature's verge, from proud oppression far, From malice, tyranny, from courts, from you.

_Qu. Eliz._ Traitor! villain! [_Strikes him._

_Essex._ Confusion! what, a blow! Restrain, good Heaven! down, down, thou rebel passion, And, judgment, take the reins. Madam, 'tis well-- Your soldier falls degraded; His glory's tarnish'd, and his fame undone. O, bounteous recompence from royal hands! But you, ye implements, beware, beware, What honour wrong'd, and honest wrath can act.

_Qu. Eliz._ What would th' imperious traitor do? My life Beyond thy wretched purpose stands secure. Go, learn at leisure what your deeds deserve, And tremble at the vengeance you provoke. [_Exeunt all but ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON._

_Essex._ Disgraced and struck! Damnation! Death were glorious! Revenge! revenge!

_South._ Alas, my friend! what would Thy rage attempt? Consider well the great Advantage now your rash, ungovern'd temper Affords your foes. The queen, incensed, will let Their fury loose.--I dread the dire event!

_Essex._ Has honest pride no just resentment left? Nor injured honour, feeling?--Not revenge! High Heaven shall hear, and earth regret, my wrongs. Hot indignation burns within my soul. I'll do some dreadful thing!--I know not what; Some deeds, as horrid as the shame I feel, Shall startle nature, and alarm the world. Then hence, like lightning, let me furious fly, To hurl destruction at my foes on high; Pull down oppression from its tyrant seat, Redeem my glory, or embrace my fate. [_Exeunt._