The Earl of Essex Part 6

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 ESs.e.x and SOUTHAMPTON._

_Ess.e.x._ Disgraced and struck! d.a.m.nation! 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!

_Ess.e.x._ 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._

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.

_The Palace._

_Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and NOTTINGHAM._

_Qu. Eliz._ Not taken yet?

_Not._ No, madam: for the Earl Of Ess.e.x, leagued with desperate friends, made strong And obstinate resistance; till, at length, O'erpower'd by numbers, and increasing force, He fled for shelter to a small retreat, A summer-house, upon the Thames; resolved To perish, rather than submit to power.

_Qu. Eliz._ Oh, where shall majesty bestow its favours, Since Ess.e.x has a traitor proved to me, Whose arm hath raised him up to power and greatness; Whose heart has shared in all his splendid triumphs, And feels, ev'n now, his trait'rous deeds with pity?

But hence with pity, and the woman's pangs: Resentment governs, and the queen shall punish.

_Enter BURLEIGH._

_Bur._ Ill.u.s.trious queen! the traitors all are seized.

Their black debates Were held at Drury House. The dire result Was this: that Ess.e.x should alarm the citizens To open mutiny, and bold rebellion.

Their purpose was to seize your royal palace, And sacred person; but your faithful people, As by one mind inform'd, one zeal inspired, Rose up at once, and with their virtue quell'd them.

_Qu. Eliz._ Thanks to their honest, to their loyal hearts!

But say, were any persons else concern'd, Of high distinction, or of noted rank?

_Bur._ Yes, madam, many more; 'Mong whom the bold Southampton foremost stands.

They're now our prisoners, and are safe secured; But Ess.e.x, with Southampton, and the rest Of greater note, I would not dare dispose of Without your royal mandate; and they now Attend without, to know your final pleasure.

_Qu. Eliz._ Is this the just return of all my care?

My anxious toilsome days, and watchful nights?

Have I sent forth a wish, that went not freighted With all my people's good? Or have I life, Or length of days desired, but for their sake?

The public good is all my private care!

Then could I think this grateful isle Contain'd one traitor's heart? But, least of all, That Ess.e.x' breast should lodge it? Call the monster, And let me meet this rebel face to face!

Do you withdraw, and wait within our call.

[_Exeunt BURLEIGH and NOTTINGHAM._

_Enter ESs.e.x._

You see, we dare abide your dangerous presence, Though treason sits within your heart enthroned, And on that brow rebellion lours, where once Such boasted loyalty was said to flourish.

How low the traitor can degrade the soldier!

Guilt glares in conscious dye upon thy cheek, And inward horror trembles in thine eye.

How mean is fraud! How base ingrat.i.tude!

_Ess.e.x._ Forbear reproach, thou injured majesty, Nor wound with piercing looks, a heart already With anguish torn, and bleeding with remorse.

Your awful looks, alone, are arm'd with death, And justice gives them terror.

_Qu. Eliz._ Hapless man!

What cause could prompt, what fiend could urge thee on To this detested deed? Could I from thee Expect to meet this base return? from thee, To whom I ought to fly with all the confidence That giving bounty ever could inspire, Or seeming grat.i.tude and worth could promise?

_Ess.e.x._ Alas! I own my crimes, and feel my treasons; They press me down beneath the reach of pity.

Despair alone can s.h.i.+eld me from myself.

_Qu. Eliz._ My pride forbids me to reproach thee more; My pity, rather, would relieve thy sorrow.

The people's clamours, and my special safety, Call loud for justice, and demand your life.

But if forgiveness from an injured queen Can make the few short hours you live more easy, I give it freely, from my pitying heart; And wish my willing power could grant thee more.

_Ess.e.x._ Oh, let me prostrate thus before you fall, My better angel, and my guardian genius!

Permit me, royal mistress, to announce My faithful sentiments, my soul's true dictates; Vouchsafe your Ess.e.x but this one request, This only boon--he'll thank you with his last, His dying breath, and bless you in his pa.s.sage.

_Qu. Eliz._ Rise, my lord!

If aught you have to offer can allay Your woes, and reconcile you to your fate, Proceed;--and I with patient ear will listen.

_Ess.e.x._ My real errors, and my seeming crimes, Would weary mercy, and make goodness poor; And yet the source of all my greatest faults Was loyalty misled, and duty in extreme.

So jealous was my sanguine heart, so warm Affection's zeal, I could not bear the least Suspicion of my duty to my queen.

This drove me from my high command in Ireland; This, too, impell'd me to that rude behaviour, Which justly urged the shameful blow I felt; And this, O fatal rashness! made me think My queen had given her Ess.e.x up, a victim To statesmen's schemes, and wicked policy.

Stung by that piercing thought, my madness flew Beyond all bounds, and now, alas! has brought me To this most shameful fall; and, what's still worse, My own reproaches, and my queen's displeasure.

_Qu. Eliz._ Unhappy man! My yielding soul is touch'd, And pity pleads thy cause within my breast.

_Ess.e.x._ Say, but, my gracious sovereign, ere I go For ever from your presence, that you think me Guiltless of all attempts against your throne, And sacred life. Your faithful Ess.e.x ne'er Could harbour in his breast so foul a thought.

Believe it not, my queen. By heaven, I swear, When in my highest pitch of glory raised,-- The splendid noon of Fortune's brightest suns.h.i.+ne,-- Not ages of renown,--could yield me half The joy, nor make my life so greatly blest, As saving yours, though for a single hour.

_Qu. Eliz._ My lord, I would convince you, that I still Regard your life, and labour to preserve it; But cannot screen you from a public trial.

With prudence make your best defence; but should Severity her iron jurisdiction Extend too far, and give thee up condemn'd To angry laws, thy queen will not forget thee.

Yet, lest you then should want a faithful friend (For friends will fly you in the time of need) Here, from my finger, take this ring, a pledge Of mercy; having this, you ne'er shall need An advocate with me, for whensoe'er You give, or send it back, by heaven, I swear, As I do hope for mercy on my soul, That I will grant whatever boon you ask.

_Ess.e.x._ Oh, grace surprising! most amazing goodness!

Words cannot paint, the transports of my soul!

Let me receive it on my grateful knees, At once to thank, and bless the hand that gives it.

_Qu. Eliz._ Depend, my lord, on this--'twixt you and me, This ring shall be a private mark of faith [_Gives the ring._ Inviolate. Be confident; cheer up; Dispel each melancholy fear, and trust Your sovereign's promise--she will ne'er forsake you.