His well-disposed mind; and weeping forth

His welcomes, asks of thee forgiveness.

Q. E. Hark! dare not speak too loud, lest that thy

speech

Shall to our flaming wrath be oil and flax.

We will not have to do with pity.

The well-disposèd mind growing once corrupt,
Turns noble benefits to vicious forms,

Ten times more ugly than ever they were fair.

This man so complete, who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, That when he spoke, we almost with ravish'd list'ning,

Could not find his hour of speech, a minute;

He, fit indeed to use in all assays

Whether for arms and warlike amenaunce,

Or for a wise and civil governaunce-
Doth, in his courting of this strange princess,
Invite us aye, to act in cruelty.

Into as many gobbits will we cut

That fatal screech-owl to our house,

That nothing sings but death to us and ours,—
As wild Medca, young Abisirtis did.
Death will stop her dismal threatening sound,
And her ill-boding tongue no more shall speak:
Dark cloudy death will overshade her beams of life;
And we'll surely blast thy father's harvest.

Take heed lest that sweet Death doth reap thee, too!

We'll banish him on pain of death.

F. B. Forgive my presumption.

Q. E. Hadst thou been kill'd when first thou didst

presume,

Thou hadst not liv'd to be attorney

For this base ignoble wretch.

God knows thou art the first fruit of my flesh,
But hast thy father's heart. Thy parentage
Thou canst not e'er deny, fill'd as thou art
With all thy father's vicious qualities:

I did bear thee, but he did beget thee.

Begone, thou graceless boy! get thee from my sight.
F. B. Here on my knee, I beg mortality
Rather than life preferr'd with infamy!
If I, to-day, die not with thy fell rage,
To-morrow I shall die with mickle age!
That my father might be saved, to thee I come;
O twice my mother, twice am I thy son;
Thou gav'st me life, and rescued me from death,
I give to thee my sword, my soul, my breath;
Rather than ill shall shame my mother's womb,
All my fair hopes shall lie in one dark tomb:
No power have I to speak for him, I know,
And so farewell. I and my griefs will go.

(Enter a messenger.)

Mess. Your grace, the Earl of Leicester

Doth crave to be admitted to your presence.

Q. E. What means his grace, that he so plain and

blunt

Doth audience demand? Let him come near.

(Enter Leicester.) I' God's name, lord, how darest thou attend on us? Go home; return unto thy house; there bow Thy stubborn knees and pray for her whom thou Hast vow'd to serve.

Leicester. I am the wofullest man that ever liv'd, For I in oblivion and hateful griefs

Must live. Dearer than life art thou to me!

Now my soul's palace is become a prison;

Ah! would it break from hence, that this, my body,
Might in the ground be closed up in rest:
For never, henceforth, shall I joy again,
Never, oh, never shall I see more joy!
To thee I pray, sweet Queen, O pity me

Before I take my death! I never did thee harm!
Why wilt thou slay me?

Q. E. Silence thine idle tongue! I'll set thee up a
glass,

Where thou mayst see the inmost part of thee.

Lay not the flatt'ring unction to thy soul,
That not thy trespass but my anger speaks:
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Confess thyself to heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;
And do not spread the compost on the weeds,
To make them rank. Sir, I saw the wanton
Pinch thy cheek, call thee her mouse, and slyly,
Whilst paddling in thy neck with her damn'd fingers,
Give thee a pair of rechie kisses.

Had I her brethren here, their lives and hers

Were not revenge sufficient for me:

No, if I digg'd up her forefathers' graves,

And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart.

The sight of her or any of her house,

Is as a fury to torment my soul;

Until I root out her accursed line

And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
Therefore, begone.

L. L. O thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
Q. E. O throw away the worser part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
Thou hast out-paramour'd the Turk.

L. L. Your highness, it is no blot or foulness,
No unchaste action or dishonor'd step,
That hath depriv'd me of thy grace and favor.
It is but this: that jealous of my love,

To work my fortune's ill with foul suspicion,
The gallants stuff thy ears,—

Oh! monstrous villainy,—when they know
Sooner would I the fiery elements

Dissolve, and make thy kingdom in the sky,
Than this base earth should shroud your majesty.
Q. E. I bear an honourable mind, and am
Not carried with the common wind of courts,
Nor do I after tattling fables fly.

Restrain thy apprehension; I will lay

Trust upon thee, and thou shalt find I will

Preserve and love thee; I've conferred on thee
The commandment of mine army beyond the sea.
Now, my lord, to the council follow me.

L. L. I will attend upon your highness.

26

(Exeunt.)

26. "Unto the council chamber they have gone, thence will we, therefore, to look on and see, how in their counsels, they do all agree:—

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

(Council Chamber of the Palace).

Lords seated at Table. QUEEN ELIZABETH on a raised throne.

Queen Elizabeth. My lords, Philip of Spain,—the foul, accursed minister of hell,-hath joined with the Frenchmen, our baleful enemies, and in league with Burgundy, gathers strength. Their armies that were divided into two parts, are now conjoined in one, and presently mean to give battle to the states of Christendom. Moved with remorse of these outrageous broils, we trust the proffer we have made unto the rightful Lord 'Protector of the Low Countries, will give you all content. This letter doth contain it. This it is. We have begged my lord to accept this, our servant, whom we send as image of our power, to be the captain of our victorious, armèd Englishmen, that now war with him against our enemies. Judge then, great lords, if we have done amiss in this. Speak freely, we cannot hear too much in matter of such moment: my good Lord Chancellor, speak thou as free as mountain wind.

Lord Chancellor. Your grace, it is not meet that he should be sent as your grace's image, for that he was a traitor to the crown. His father shook hands with death, and will you pale your head in the son's glory, and rob your temples of the diadem? For he doth hope to reign. He hath gelded the commonwealth, and made of it an eunuch, and should your majesty put about his neck the scarf, and in his hands the staff, no good will come of it.

Lord Leicester. I beseech your majesty, do not cast away an honest man for a villain's accusation.