University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

NORFOLK AND CECIL.
NORFOLK.
Good morrow, noble Cecil;
Health and success attend you! May I ask
When last you saw the queen?

CECIL.
This very morn,
My lord, I had some private conference with her,
Touching affairs of moment to the state.

NORFOLK.
Did you prefer my humble suit, and plead
For injur'd innocence? The captive queen—

CECIL.
My lord, I wish to serve you, but the times
Are full of danger, and at such a crisis
I dare not urge it to her.

NORFOLK.
Dare not! What!
The mighty Cecil, whose directing hand
Presides o'er all unrivall'd; shall he deign
To crouch beneath offended majesty,
And tremble at its frown? By heaven, I think,
Whate'er a faithful subject hath to offer
That tends to public good, howe'er in thought
He err, 'tis fit a sovereign should hear.

CECIL.
But may there not be something, good my lord,
'Twould ill befit a subject to request,
Or sovereign to bestow? I could not ask it.

NORFOLK.
Not ask it? Cecil is not Norfolk's friend.

CECIL.
I am a friend to all who love their queen
And wish their country's welfare; foe to none
But those of England and Elizabeth.

NORFOLK.
Cecil, you wrong me with unjust suspicions,
For know I love and honour both. There lives not
A warmer patriot.

CECIL.
Good my lord, repeat not
That awful, sacred, prostituted name.
There was a time when such a character
Was not unknown amongst us; but 'tis past:
'Tis now no more than the poor flimsy veil
Of sordid avarice, or of mean self-love;
A mere convenient, threadbare habit, worn
By every idle brawler in the senate,
Who talks of public good, and means his own.

NORFOLK.
I thank you, Cecil, for the kind suggestion,
And only wish the brawlers you despise,
With all their zeal could make a statesman just,
Or teach a callous minister to feel.
For me, I own I have a foolish weakness,
A fond, believing, sympathetic heart
That melts with pity at another's woe.

CECIL.
In truth, my lord, you have been wondrous kind
To the distress'd. No doubt the grateful fair one
Will make you ample retribution.

NORFOLK.
Wherefore
Doth gracious heaven impart its bounties to us,
Or give us power, but to relieve the wretched?

CECIL.
Ay, but when guilt inherits the reward
Of innocence, the giver but partakes
The crime which he supports: nay, more, my lord;
Know, to assist a traitor is—rebellion.

NORFOLK.
If 'tis rebellion to protect the weak,
To shelter weeping beauty from the storm
Of proud oppression, and redeem the captive
From chains and death, I am indeed a rebel.
And if to sigh, to strive for years in vain
(Who would not strive?) for precious liberty,
If this be treason, Mary is a traitor.
There is a crime indeed, as well thou know'st,
A crime which woman never can forgive:
Superior beauty. There my Scottish queen
Is against yours most eminently guilty.

CECIL.
Long hath her peerless beauty stood confess'd;
So long indeed, that there are those, my lord,
As I have heard of late, who wonder much
She should have met in her declining years
With such a suitor as the gallant Norfolk
To crown her conquests.

NORFOLK.
Mary's setting sun,
Low as it is, shines forth with brighter rays
Than proud Elizabeth could ever boast
In her meridian lustre.

CECIL.
Proud, my lord?
If she has pride, 'tis of a nobler nature
Than that which triumphs in th'exulting eye
Of transient beauty: 'tis the pride of reason,
Of honour, wisdom, learning, martial spirit,
With all the fair perfections of the soul
That make a people happy. Would to heaven
Each murm'ring subject who defames his prince
Would imitate the virtues he condemns,
Would place the fair original before him,
And strive to copy well the bright example.

NORFOLK.
I grant her all you wish, but there is still
One virtue which she wants—Humanity:
She would not else have kept a noble princess
In shameful bondage, and so oft deceived her
With hopes of promised freedom. O 'twas mean,
Unworthy of a monarch to dissemble.

CECIL.
Norfolk, restrain your bold licentious tongue,
Nor urge me further: you forget, my lord,
That I am bound by every sacred tie,
By honour, duty, gratitude, and love,
To hide no secret from my sov'reign's ear.

NORFOLK.
Nor would I wish it; no, I would proclaim
My honest passion to a list'ning world.
When next your council meet, I shall avow it,
Tho' venal courtiers should oppose my suit;
I stand resolv'd to shield an injured queen
From her oppressors, or to share her fate.

CECIL.
So hot, so confident! then fare you well,
For we can never meet on terms like these:
Yet ere we part, remember, Cecil gives
This kind advice to Norfolk as his friend;
Subdue this idle passion, think no more
Of Scotland's queen, nor hold rash converse with her.
Beware of evil counsellors, retreat
In time: be wise, be cautious, and be happy.
[Exit Cecil.