University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

Enter Burleigh and Nottingham.
Nottingham.
My Lord, I've sought you out with much Impatience.
You've had an Audience of the Queen; what follow'd?

Burleigh.
Soon as I told her Essex had refus'd
To yield his Dignities, and Staff of Office,
Against her high Command, pronounc'd by me,
She seem'd depriv'd of Reason or a Moment;
Her working Mind betray'd contending Passions,
Which, in her alter'd Face, appear'd by Turns.
She paus'd, 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 Traytor scorn'd my Power?
He dares not sure.—He dies—the Villain dies!
Then, sudden, soften'd into milder Sounds,
And call'd him rash, unhappy, gallant Essex!
On me her Fury fell; my crafty Plans
Against his Reputation, Fame and Life,
Had driv'n him to Extremes—my Malice did it,
My Envy was his Bane; with all that Passion
Of Fury cou'd suggest.—I beg'd to know
Her Royal Will concerning Essex, urg'd
Again his Insolence.—Amaz'd a while
She stood, and wist not what to do.—At length
Collecting all her Mind, these Words she utter'd;—
Let him to the Tow'r—I instantly withdrew,
But soon was countermanded, and desir'd
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.

Nottingham.
Is Essex then secur'd?

Burleigh.
Madam, he is;
And now comes guarded to the Court.

Enter Gentleman.
Gentleman.
Madam, the Queen
Is in her Closet, and desires to see you.

[Exit.
Nottingham.
I attend her.

Burleigh.
She wants, no doubt, to be advis'd by you.
Improve this fair Occasion, urge it home.
She must be quicken'd by repeated Strokes
Of fresh indignities, by Essex offer'd
T'her Royal Person, and Prerogative.
Be circumspect and cautious! mark her well.

Nottingham.
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 us'd.

Burleigh.
Madam, the Queen expects you instantly.
I must withdraw, and wait the Earl's Arrival.

[Exeunt.
Queen Discovered.
Queen.
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 reassume!
Exert my Power, and be myself again!—
O ill performing disobedient Heart!—
Why shrink'st thou fearful from thy own Resolve?
Enter Nottingham.
Thou com'st in time, I'm much disturb'd, abus'd,
My Nottingham, and wou'd complain to thee,
Of Insolence, Neglect, and high Contempt.
Essex presum'd to dictate Laws within
My Palace Gates. How say'st thou, Nottingham?

Nottingham.
Surely, my gracious Queen, it cannot be!
His Heat and Passion never cou'd impel him
To take so bold a Step, to such rash Guilt:
Methinks his very Honour shou'd prevent it.

Queen.
Thy open honest Mind untutor'd seems
In Life' ungrateful and degenerate School;
Where stubborn Vice in every Form appears,
Mocking Correction's ineffectual Rod.
It is, indeed, an Evil hard to bear,
This haughty Man has wanton'd with my Grace,
Abus'd my Bounty, and despis'd my Favours.
That giving Goodness shou'd profusely flow
T'enrich the surly Glebe, where only Thorns
And noxious Weeds will spring!
Resentment, then, shall in her turn prevail;
To angry Laws I'll give this Victim up.

Nottingham.
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 Limit.
(At least his Enemies would have it so)
But Malice, Madam, seldom judges right.

Queen.
O Nottingham, his Pride is past enduring;
This insolent, audacious Man forgets
His Honour and Allegiance.—And refus'd
To render up his Staff of Office here,
Beneath my very Eye.

Nottingham.
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.

Queen.
You seem well pleas'd to urge Severity.—
Offended Majesty but seldom wants
Such sharp Advisers.—Yet no Attribute
So well befits th'exalted Seat supreme,
And Power's disposing Hand, as Clemency.
Each Crime must from its quality be judg'd;
And pity there shou'd interpose, where malice
Is not th'Aggressor! Hence, I'll hear no more.

Nottingham.
Madam, my Sentiments were well intended;
Justice, not Malice, mov'd my honest Zeal.
My Words were Echo's 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.

Queen.
Go, Nottingham,
My Mind's disturb'd, and send me Rutland hither
[Exit Not.
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 Scepter rules,
And Pain and Passion in her Right prevail.
O the unpity'd Lot, severe Condition,
Of Solitary, sad dejected Grandeur!
Alone condemn'd to bear th'unsocial Throb
Of heart-felt Anguish, and corroding Grief;
Depriv'd of what, within his homely Shed,
The poorest Peasant in Affliction finds,
The kind condoling Comfort of a dear
Partaking Friend.—
Enter Countess of Rutland.
Rutland, I want thy timely
Counsel. I'm importun'd, and urg'd to punish—
But Justice, sometimes, has a cruel Sound,
Where Mercy may with Prudence meet, and both
Agree to soften Rigour.—Essex has,
No doubt, provok'd 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.

Rutland.
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.

Queen.
I grant you, Rutland, all you say, and think
The Earl possess'd of many splendid Virtues.
What Pity 'tis, he shou'd afford his Foes
Such frequent sad Occasions to undo him.

Rutland.
What human Heart can unafflicted bear
Such manly Merit in Distress; such Worth
Betray'd; such Valour in the Toil, 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!
O 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.

Queen.
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 wou'd preserve him from his Foes!
And therefore am resolv'd once more to see him.

Rutland.
Oh, 'tis a godlike Thought, and Heaven 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.

Queen.
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.

Rutland.
Her Frowns are dreadful, and her Eye looks Terror.
I tremble for my Essex! Save him, Heaven!

[Exit.
Queen.
Her Warmth has touch'd me home. My jealous Heart
My fearful and suspicious Soul's alarm'd.

Enter Burleigh, Raleigh, and others.
Burleigh.
The Earl of Essex waits your Royal Will.

Queen.
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, Southampton, Guards.
Essex.
Permitted thus to bend, with prostrate Heart,
[kneels.
Before your sacred Majesty; I come
With every grateful Sense of royal Favour,
Deeply engrav'd within my conscious Soul.

Queen.
I sent my Orders for your Staff of Office.

Essex.
Madam, my envy'd Dignities and Honours
I first from your own royal Hand receiv'd;
And therefore justly held it far beneath me
To yield my Trophies, and exalted Power,
So dearly purchas'd 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.

Queen.
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 Tryal,
Conviction still on acting Worth attends;
Whilst mere Professions are by Doubts encumber'd.

Essex.
My Deeds have oft declar'd, in Danger's Front,
How far my Duty and my Valour lead me.
Allegiance still my Thirst of Glory fir'd,
And all my bravely-gather'd, envy'd Laurels,
Were purchas'd only to adorn my Queen.

Queen.
Yet Fact o'er Fallacy must still prevail,
And Eloquence to simple Truth give Way.
Your guilty Scorn of my entrusted Power,
When with my mortal Foes you tamely dally'd,
By hardy Rebels brav'd, 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 Parly?

Essex.
O deadly Stroke! My Life's the destin'd Mark.
The poison'd Shaft has drunk my Spirits deep.
Is't come to this? Conspire with Rebels! Hah!
I've serv'd you, Madam, with the utmost Peril,
And ever glory'd in th'illustrious Danger;
Where Famine fac'd me with her meagre Mein,
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 parly, or to fight, I had
From you; the Time and Circumstance did call
Aloud for mutual Treaty and Conditions;
For that I stand a guarded Felon here.—A Traitor,
Hem'd in by Villains, and by Slaves surrounded.

Queen.
Shall added Insolence, with Crest audacious,
Her Front uplift against the Face of Power?
Think not that injur'd Majesty will bear
Such Arrogance uncheck'd, or unchastiz'd.
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 out-cast Virtue perish!
Let Slaves be rais'd, 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.

Queen.
Presuming Wretch! Audacious Traytor!

Essex.
Traytor!

Queen.
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.

Queen.
Traytor, 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.

Queen.
What would th'imperious Traytor 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 Queen, Burleigh, Raleigh, &c. manent Southampton and Essex.
Essex.
Disgrac'd and struck! Damnation! Death were glorious
Revenge! Revenge!

Southampton.
Alas, my Friend, what would
Thy Rage attempt? Consider well the great
Advantage now your rash, ungovern'd Temper
Affords your Foes. The Queen incens'd will let
Their Fury loose.—I dread the dire Event.

Essex.
Has honest Pride no just Resentment left!
Nor injur'd 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 Deed 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.