CHAPTER XVI.
Then call them to our presence. Face to face, And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear The accuser and accused freely speak;-- High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.--RICHARD II.
"I am ordered to attend court to-morrow," said Leicester, speaking toVarney, "to meet, as they surmise, my Lord of Sussex. The Queen intendsto take up matters betwixt us. This comes of her visit to Sayes Court,of which you must needs speak so lightly."
"I maintain it was nothing," said Varney; "nay, I know from a sureintelligencer, who was within earshot of much that was said, that Sussexhas lost rather than gained by that visit. The Queen said, when shestepped into the boat, that Sayes Court looked like a guard-house, andsmelt like an hospital. 'Like a cook's shop in Ram's Alley, rather,'said the Countess of Rutland, who is ever your lordship's good friend.And then my Lord of Lincoln must needs put in his holy oar, and saythat my Lord of Sussex must be excused for his rude and old-worldhousekeeping, since he had as yet no wife."
"And what said the Queen?" asked Leicester hastily.
"She took him up roundly," said Varney, "and asked what my Lord Sussexhad to do with a wife, or my Lord Bishop to speak on such a subject. 'Ifmarriage is permitted,' she said, 'I nowhere read that it is enjoined.'"
"She likes not marriages, or speech of marriage, among churchmen," saidLeicester.
"Nor among courtiers neither," said Varney; but, observing thatLeicester changed countenance, he instantly added, "that all the ladieswho were present had joined in ridiculing Lord Sussex's housekeeping,and in contrasting it with the reception her Grace would have assuredlyreceived at my Lord of Leicester's."
"You have gathered much tidings," said Leicester, "but you haveforgotten or omitted the most important of all. She hath added anotherto those dangling satellites whom it is her pleasure to keep revolvingaround her."
"Your lordship meaneth that Raleigh, the Devonshire youth," saidVarney--"the Knight of the Cloak, as they call him at court?"
"He may be Knight of the Garter one day, for aught I know," saidLeicester, "for he advances rapidly--she hath capped verses with him,and such fooleries. I would gladly abandon, of my own free will, thepart--I have in her fickle favour; but I will not be elbowed out ofit by the clown Sussex, or this new upstart. I hear Tressilian iswith Sussex also, and high in his favour. I would spare him forconsiderations, but he will thrust himself on his fate. Sussex, too, isalmost as well as ever in his health."
"My lord," replied Varney, "there will be rubs in the smoothest road,specially when it leads uphill. Sussex's illness was to us a godsend,from which I hoped much. He has recovered, indeed, but he is not nowmore formidable than ere he fell ill, when he received more than onefoil in wrestling with your lordship. Let not your heart fail you, mylord, and all shall be well."
"My heart never failed me, sir," replied Leicester.
"No, my lord," said Varney; "but it has betrayed you right often. Hethat would climb a tree, my lord, must grasp by the branches, not by theblossom."
"Well, well, well!" said Leicester impatiently; "I understand thymeaning--my heart shall neither fail me nor seduce me. Have my retinuein order--see that their array be so splendid as to put down, not onlythe rude companions of Ratcliffe, but the retainers of every othernobleman and courtier. Let them be well armed withal, but without anyoutward display of their weapons, wearing them as if more for fashion'ssake than for use. Do thou thyself keep close to me, I may have businessfor you."
The preparations of Sussex and his party were not less anxious thanthose of Leicester.
"Thy Supplication, impeaching Varney of seduction," said the Earl toTressilian, "is by this time in the Queen's hand--I have sent it througha sure channel. Methinks your suit should succeed, being, as it is,founded in justice and honour, and Elizabeth being the very muster ofboth. But--I wot not how--the gipsy" (so Sussex was wont to call hisrival on account of his dark complexion) "hath much to say with her inthese holyday times of peace. Were war at the gates, I should be one ofher white boys; but soldiers, like their bucklers and Bilboa blades, getout of fashion in peace time, and satin sleeves and walking rapiers bearthe bell. Well, we must be gay, since such is the fashion.--Blount, hastthou seen our household put into their new braveries? But thou knowestas little of these toys as I do; thou wouldst be ready enow at disposinga stand of pikes."
"My good lord," answered Blount, "Raleigh hath been here, and taken thatcharge upon him--your train will glitter like a May morning. Marry, thecost is another question. One might keep an hospital of old soldiers atthe charge of ten modern lackeys."
"He must not count cost to-day, Nicholas," said the Earl in reply. "Iam beholden to Raleigh for his care. I trust, though, he has rememberedthat I am an old soldier, and would have no more of these follies thanneeds must."
"Nay, I understand nought about it," said Blount; "but here are yourhonourable lordship's brave kinsmen and friends coming in by scores towait upon you to court, where, methinks, we shall bear as brave a frontas Leicester, let him ruffle it as he will."
"Give them the strictest charges," said Sussex, "that they suffer noprovocation short of actual violence to provoke them into quarrel. Theyhave hot bloods, and I would not give Leicester the advantage over me byany imprudence of theirs."
The Earl of Sussex ran so hastily through these directions, that it waswith difficulty Tressilian at length found opportunity to express hissurprise that he should have proceeded so far in the affair of Sir HughRobsart as to lay his petition at once before the Queen. "It was theopinion of the young lady's friends," he said, "that Leicester'ssense of justice should be first appealed to, as the offence had beencommitted by his officer, and so he had expressly told to Sussex."
"This could have been done without applying to me," said Sussex,somewhat haughtily. "I at least, ought not to have been a counsellorwhen the object was a humiliating reference to Leicester; and I amsuprised that you, Tressilian, a man of honour, and my friend, wouldassume such a mean course. If you said so, I certainly understood younot in a matter which sounded so unlike yourself."
"My lord," said Tressilian, "the course I would prefer, for my own sake,is that you have adopted; but the friends of this most unhappy lady--"
"Oh, the friends--the friends," said Sussex, interrupting him; "theymust let us manage this cause in the way which seems best. This is thetime and the hour to accumulate every charge against Leicester and hishousehold, and yours the Queen will hold a heavy one. But at all eventsshe hath the complaint before her."
Tressilian could not help suspecting that, in his eagerness tostrengthen himself against his rival, Sussex had purposely adopted thecourse most likely to throw odium on Leicester, without consideringminutely whether it were the mode of proceeding most likely to beattended with success. But the step was irrevocable, and Sussex escapedfrom further discussing it by dismissing his company, with the command,"Let all be in order at eleven o'clock; I must be at court and in thepresence by high noon precisely."
While the rival statesmen were thus anxiously preparing for theirapproaching meeting in the Queen's presence, even Elizabeth herself wasnot without apprehension of what might chance from the collision oftwo such fiery spirits, each backed by a strong and numerous body offollowers, and dividing betwixt them, either openly or in secret, thehopes and wishes of most of her court. The band of Gentlemen Pensionerswere all under arms, and a reinforcement of the yeomen of the guardwas brought down the Thames from London. A royal proclamation was sentforth, strictly prohibiting nobles of whatever degree to approach thePalace with retainers or followers armed with shot or with long weapons;and it was even whispered that the High Sheriff of Kent had secretinstructions to have a part of the array of the county ready on theshortest notice.
The eventful hour, thus anxiously prepared for on all sides, at lengthapproached, and, each followed by his long and glittering train offriends and followers, the rival Earls entered the Palace Yar
d ofGreenwich at noon precisely.
As if by previous arrangement, or perhaps by intimation that such wasthe Queen's pleasure, Sussex and his retinue came to the Palace fromDeptford by water while Leicester arrived by land; and thus they enteredthe courtyard from opposite sides. This trifling circumstance gaveLeicester a ascendency in the opinion of the vulgar, the appearanceof his cavalcade of mounted followers showing more numerous and moreimposing than those of Sussex's party, who were necessarily upon foot.No show or sign of greeting passed between the Earls, though each lookedfull at the other, both expecting perhaps an exchange of courtesies,which neither was willing to commence. Almost in the minute of theirarrival the castle-bell tolled, the gates of the Palace were opened, andthe Earls entered, each numerously attended by such gentlemen of theirtrain whose rank gave them that privilege. The yeomen and inferiorattendants remained in the courtyard, where the opposite parties eyedeach other with looks of eager hatred and scorn, as if waiting withimpatience for some cause of tumult, or some apology for mutualaggression. But they were restrained by the strict commands of theirleaders, and overawed, perhaps, by the presence of an armed guard ofunusual strength.
In the meanwhile, the more distinguished persons of each train followedtheir patrons into the lofty halls and ante-chambers of the royalPalace, flowing on in the same current, like two streams which arecompelled into the same channel, yet shun to mix their waters. Theparties arranged themselves, as it were instinctively, on the differentsides of the lofty apartments, and seemed eager to escape from thetransient union which the narrowness of the crowded entrance had for aninstant compelled them to submit to. The folding doors at the upperend of the long gallery were immediately afterwards opened, and it wasannounced in a whisper that the Queen was in her presence-chamber, towhich these gave access. Both Earls moved slowly and stately towardsthe entrance--Sussex followed by Tressilian, Blount, and Raleigh, andLeicester by Varney. The pride of Leicester was obliged to give way tocourt-forms, and with a grave and formal inclination of the head, hepaused until his rival, a peer of older creation than his own, passedbefore him. Sussex returned the reverence with the same formal civility,and entered the presence-room. Tressilian and Blount offered to followhim, but were not permitted, the Usher of the Black Rod alleging inexcuse that he had precise orders to look to all admissions that day. ToRaleigh, who stood back on the repulse of his companions, he said, "You,sir, may enter," and he entered accordingly.
"Follow me close, Varney," said the Earl of Leicester, who had stoodaloof for a moment to mark the reception of Sussex; and advancing tothe entrance, he was about to pass on, when Varney, who was close behindhim, dressed out in the utmost bravery of the day, was stopped by theusher, as Tressilian and Blount had been before him, "How is this,Master Bowyer?" said the Earl of Leicester. "Know you who I am, and thatthis is my friend and follower?"
"Your lordship will pardon me," replied Bowyer stoutly; "my orders areprecise, and limit me to a strict discharge of my duty."
"Thou art a partial knave," said Leicester, the blood mounting to hisface, "to do me this dishonour, when you but now admitted a follower ofmy Lord of Sussex."
"My lord," said Bowyer, "Master Raleigh is newly admitted a swornservant of her Grace, and to him my orders did not apply."
"Thou art a knave--an ungrateful knave," said Leicester; "but he thathath done can undo--thou shalt not prank thee in thy authority long!"
This threat he uttered aloud, with less than his usual policy anddiscretion; and having done so, he entered the presence-chamber, andmade his reverence to the Queen, who, attired with even more than herusual splendour, and surrounded by those nobles and statesmen whosecourage and wisdom have rendered her reign immortal, stood readyto receive the hommage of her subjects. She graciously returned theobeisance of the favourite Earl, and looked alternately at him and atSussex, as if about to speak, when Bowyer, a man whose spirit couldnot brook the insult he had so openly received from Leicester, in thedischarge of his office, advanced with his black rad in his hand, andknelt down before her.
"Why, how now, Bowyer?" said Elizabeth, "thy courtesy seems strangelytimed!"
"My Liege Sovereign," he said, while every courtier around trembledat his audacity, "I come but to ask whether, in the discharge of mineoffice, I am to obey your Highness's commands, or those of the Earl ofLeicester, who has publicly menaced me with his displeasure, andtreated me with disparaging terms, because I denied entry to one of hisfollowers, in obedience to your Grace's precise orders?"
The spirit of Henry VIII. was instantly aroused in the bosom of hisdaughter, and she turned on Leicester with a severity which appalledhim, as well as all his followers.
"God's death! my lord." such was her emphatic phrase, "what means this?We have thought well of you, and brought you near to our person; but itwas not that you might hide the sun from our other faithful subjects.Who gave you license to contradict our orders, or control our officers?I will have in this court, ay, and in this realm, but one mistress, andno master. Look to it that Master Bowyer sustains no harm for his dutyto me faithfully discharged; for, as I am Christian woman and crownedQueen, I will hold you dearly answerable.--Go, Bowyer, you have done thepart of an honest man and a true subject. We will brook no mayor of thepalace here."
Bowyer kissed the hand which she extended towards him, and withdrewto his post, astonished at the success of his own audacity. A smileof triumph pervaded the faction of Sussex; that of Leicester seemedproportionally dismayed, and the favourite himself, assuming anaspect of the deepest humility, did not even attempt a word in his ownesculpation.
He acted wisely; for it was the policy of Elizabeth to humble, not todisgrace him, and it was prudent to suffer her, without opposition orreply, to glory in the exertion of her authority. The dignity ofthe Queen was gratified, and the woman began soon to feel for themortification which she had imposed on her favourite. Her keen eye alsoobserved the secret looks of congratulation exchanged amongst those whofavoured Sussex, and it was no part of her policy to give either party adecisive triumph.
"What I say to my Lord of Leicester," she said, after a moment's pause,"I say also to you, my Lord of Sussex. You also must needs ruffle in thecourt of England, at the head of a faction of your own?"
"My followers, gracious Princess," said Sussex, "have indeed ruffled inyour cause in Ireland, in Scotland, and against yonder rebellious Earlsin the north. I am ignorant that--"
"Do you bandy looks and words with me, my lord?" said the Queen,interrupting him; "methinks you might learn of my Lord of Leicester themodesty to be silent, at least, under our censure. I say, my lord, thatmy grandfather and my father, in their wisdom, debarred the nobles ofthis civilized land from travelling with such disorderly retinues; andthink you, that because I wear a coif, their sceptre has in my hand beenchanged into a distaff? I tell you, no king in Christendom will lessbrook his court to be cumbered, his people oppressed, and his kingdom'speace disturbed, by the arrogance of overgrown power, than she who nowspeaks with you.--My Lord of Leicester, and you, my Lord of Sussex, Icommand you both to be friends with each other; or by the crown I wear,you shall find an enemy who will be too strong for both of you!"
"Madam," said the Earl of Leicester, "you who are yourself the fountainof honour know best what is due to mine. I place it at your disposal,and only say that the terms on which I have stood with my Lord of Sussexhave not been of my seeking; nor had he cause to think me his enemy,until he had done me gross wrong."
"For me, madam," said the Earl of Sussex, "I cannot appeal from yoursovereign pleasure; but I were well content my Lord of Leicester shouldsay in what I have, as he terms it, wronged him, since my tongue neverspoke the word that I would not willingly justify either on foot orhorseback.
"And for me," said Leicester, "always under my gracious Sovereign'spleasure, my hand shall be as ready to make good my words as that of anyman who ever wrote himself Ratcliffe."
"My lords," said the Queen, "these are no terms for this presence; andi
f you cannot keep your temper, we will find means to keep both that andyou close enough. Let me see you join hands, my lords, and forget youridle animosities."
The two rivals looked at each other with reluctant eyes, each unwillingto make the first advance to execute the Queen's will.
"Sussex," said Elizabeth, "I entreat--Leicester, I command you."
Yet, so were her words accented, that the entreaty sounded like command,and the command like entreaty. They remained still and stubborn, untilshe raised her voice to a height which argued at once impatience andabsolute command.
"Sir Henry Lee," she said, to an officer in attendance, "have a guardin present readiness, and man a barge instantly.--My Lords of Sussex andLeicester, I bid you once more to join hands; and, God's death! he thatrefuses shall taste of our Tower fare ere he sees our face again. I willlower your proud hearts ere we part, and that I promise, on the word ofa Queen!"
"The prison?" said Leicester, "might be borne, but to lose your Grace'spresence were to lose light and life at once.--Here, Sussex, is myhand."
"And here," said Sussex, "is mine in truth and honesty; but--"
"Nay, under favour, you shall add no more," said the Queen. "Why, thisis as it should be," she added, looking on them more favourably; "andwhen you the shepherds of the people, unite to protect them, it shallbe well with the flock we rule over. For, my lords, I tell you plainly,your follies and your brawls lead to strange disorders among yourservants.--My Lord of Leicester, you have a gentleman in your householdcalled Varney?"
"Yes, gracious madam," replied Leicester; "I presented him to kiss yourroyal hand when you were last at Nonsuch."
"His outside was well enough," said the Queen, "but scarce so fair, Ishould have thought, as to have caused a maiden of honourable birth andhopes to barter her fame for his good looks, and become his paramour.Yet so it is; this fellow of yours hath seduced the daughter of a goodold Devonshire knight, Sir Hugh Robsart of Lidcote Hall, and she hathfled with him from her father's house like a castaway.--My Lord ofLeicester, are you ill, that you look so deadly pale?"
"No, gracious madam," said Leicester; and it required every effort hecould make to bring forth these few words.
"You are surely ill, my lord?" said Elizabeth, going towards him withhasty speech and hurried step, which indicated the deepest concern."Call Masters--call our surgeon in ordinary.--Where be these loiteringfools?--we lose the pride of our court through their negligence.--Oris it possible, Leicester," she continued, looking on him with a verygentle aspect, "can fear of my displeasure have wrought so deeply onthee? Doubt not for a moment, noble Dudley, that we could blame THEEfor the folly of thy retainer--thee, whose thoughts we know to be farotherwise employed. He that would climb the eagle's nest, my lord, caresnot who are catching linnets at the foot of the precipice."
"Mark you that?" said Sussex aside to Raleigh. "The devil aids himsurely; for all that would sink another ten fathom deep seems but tomake him float the more easily. Had a follower of mine acted thus--"
"Peace, my good lord," said Raleigh, "for God's sake, peace! Wait thechange of the tide; it is even now on the turn."
The acute observation of Raleigh, perhaps, did not deceive him; forLeicester's confusion was so great, and, indeed, for the moment, soirresistibly overwhelming, that Elizabeth, after looking at him witha wondering eye, and receiving no intelligible answer to the unusualexpressions of grace and affection which had escaped from her, shot herquick glance around the circle of courtiers, and reading, perhaps, intheir faces something that accorded with her own awakened suspicions,she said suddenly, "Or is there more in this than we see--or than you,my lord, wish that we should see? Where is this Varney? Who saw him?"
"An it please your Grace," said Bowyer, "it is the same against whom Ithis instant closed the door of the presence-room."
"An it please me?" repeated Elizabeth sharply, not at that moment in thehumour of being pleased with anything.--"It does NOT please me that heshould pass saucily into my presence, or that you should exclude from itone who came to justify himself from an accusation."
"May it please you," answered the perplexed usher, "if I knew, in suchcase, how to bear myself, I would take heed--"
"You should have reported the fellow's desire to us, Master Usher, andtaken our directions. You think yourself a great man, because but now wechid a nobleman on your account; yet, after all, we hold you but as thelead-weight that keeps the door fast. Call this Varney hither instantly.There is one Tressilian also mentioned in this petition. Let them bothcome before us."
She was obeyed, and Tressilian and Varney appeared accordingly. Varney'sfirst glance was at Leicester, his second at the Queen. In the looksof the latter there appeared an approaching storm, and in the downcastcountenance of his patron he could read no directions in what way hewas to trim his vessel for the encounter. He then saw Tressilian, andat once perceived the peril of the situation in which he was placed.But Varney was as bold-faced and ready-witted as he was cunning andunscrupulous--a skilful pilot in extremity, and fully conscious of theadvantages which he would obtain could he extricate Leicester from hispresent peril, and of the ruin that yawned for himself should he fail indoing so.
"Is it true, sirrah," said the Queen, with one of those searching lookswhich few had the audacity to resist, "that you have seduced to infamya young lady of birth and breeding, the daughter of Sir Hugh Robsart ofLidcote Hall?"
Varney kneeled down, and replied, with a look of the most profoundcontrition, "There had been some love passages betwixt him and MistressAmy Robsart."
Leicester's flesh quivered with indignation as he heard his dependantmake this avowal, and for one moment he manned himself to step forward,and, bidding farewell to the court and the royal favour, confess thewhole mystery of the secret marriage. But he looked at Sussex, and theidea of the triumphant smile which would clothe his cheek upon hearingthe avowal sealed his lips. "Not now, at least," he thought, "or in thispresence, will I afford him so rich a triumph." And pressing his lipsclose together, he stood firm and collected, attentive to each wordwhich Varney uttered, and determined to hide to the last the secret onwhich his court-favour seemed to depend. Meanwhile, the Queen proceededin her examination of Varney.
"Love passages!" said she, echoing his last words; "what passages, thouknave? and why not ask the wench's hand from her father, if thou hadstany honesty in thy love for her?"
"An it please your Grace," said Varney, still on his knees, "I dared notdo so, for her father had promised her hand to a gentleman of birth andhonour--I will do him justice, though I know he bears me ill-will--oneMaster Edmund Tressilian, whom I now see in the presence."
"Soh!" replied the Queen. "And what was your right to make the simplefool break her worthy father's contract, through your love PASSAGES, asyour conceit and assurance terms them?"
"Madam," replied Varney, "it is in vain to plead the cause of humanfrailty before a judge to whom it is unknown, or that of love to one whonever yields to the passion"--he paused an instant, and then added, in avery low and timid tone--"which she inflicts upon all others."
Elizabeth tried to frown, but smiled in her own despite, as sheanswered, "Thou art a marvellously impudent knave. Art thou married tothe girl?"
Leicester's feelings became so complicated and so painfully intense,that it seemed to him as if his life was to depend on the answer made byVarney, who, after a moment's real hesitation, answered, "Yes."
"Thou false villain!" said Leicester, bursting forth into rage, yetunable to add another word to the sentence which he had begun with suchemphatic passion.
"Nay, my lord," said the Queen, "we will, by your leave, stand betweenthis fellow and your anger. We have not yet done with him.--Knew yourmaster, my Lord of Leicester, of this fair work of yours? Speak truth, Icommand thee, and I will be thy warrant from danger on every quarter."
"Gracious madam," said Varney, "to speak Heaven's truth, my lord was thecause of the whole matter."
"Thou villain, woulds
t thou betray me?" said Leicester.
"Speak on," said the Queen hastily, her cheek colouring, and her eyessparkling, as she addressed Varney--"speak on. Here no commands areheard but mine."
"They are omnipotent, gracious madam," replied Varney; "and to you therecan be no secrets.--Yet I would not," he added, looking around him,"speak of my master's concerns to other ears."
"Fall back, my lords," said the Queen to those who surrounded her, "anddo you speak on. What hath the Earl to do with this guilty intrigue ofthine? See, fellow, that thou beliest him not!"
"Far be it from me to traduce my noble patron," replied Varney; "yetI am compelled to own that some deep, overwhelming, yet secret feelinghath of late dwelt in my lord's mind, hath abstracted him from thecares of the household which he was wont to govern with such religiousstrictness, and hath left us opportunities to do follies, of which theshame, as in this case, partly falls upon our patron. Without this, Ihad not had means or leisure to commit the folly which has drawn on mehis displeasure--the heaviest to endure by me which I could by any meansincur, saving always the yet more dreaded resentment of your Grace."
"And in this sense, and no other, hath he been accessory to thy fault?"said Elizabeth.
"Surely, madam, in no other," replied Varney; "but since somewhat hathchanced to him, he can scarce be called his own man. Look at him,madam, how pale and trembling he stands! how unlike his usual majesty ofmanner!--yet what has he to fear from aught I can say to your Highness?Ah! madam, since he received that fatal packet!"
"What packet, and from whence?" said the Queen eagerly.
"From whence, madam, I cannot guess; but I am so near to his person thatI know he has ever since worn, suspended around his neck and next to hisheart, that lock of hair which sustains a small golden jewel shapedlike a heart. He speaks to it when alone--he parts not from it when hesleeps--no heathen ever worshipped an idol with such devotion."
"Thou art a prying knave to watch thy master so closely," saidElizabeth, blushing, but not with anger; "and a tattling knave to tellover again his fooleries.--What colour might the braid of hair be thatthou pratest of?"
Varney replied, "A poet, madam, might call it a thread from the goldenweb wrought by Minerva; but to my thinking it was paler than even thepurest gold--more like the last parting sunbeam of the softest day ofspring."
"Why, you are a poet yourself, Master Varney," said the Queen, smiling."But I have not genius quick enough to follow your rare metaphors. Lookround these ladies--is there"--(she hesitated, and endeavoured to assumean air of great indifference)--"is there here, in this presence, anylady, the colour of whose hair reminds thee of that braid? Methinks,without prying into my Lord of Leicester's amorous secrets, I wouldfain know what kind of locks are like the thread of Minerva's web, orthe--what was it?--the last rays of the May-day sun."
Varney looked round the presence-chamber, his eye travelling from onelady to another, until at length it rested upon the Queen herself, butwith an aspect of the deepest veneration. "I see no tresses," he said,"in this presence, worthy of such similies, unless where I dare not lookon them."
"How, sir knave?" said the Queen; "dare you intimate--"
"Nay, madam," replied Varney, shading his eyes with his hand, "it wasthe beams of the May-day sun that dazzled my weak eyes."
"Go to--go to," said the Queen; "thou art a foolish fellow"--and turningquickly from him she walked up to Leicester.
Intense curiosity, mingled with all the various hopes, fears,and passions which influence court faction, had occupied thepresence-chamber during the Queen's conference with Varney, as if withthe strength of an Eastern talisman. Men suspended every, even theslightest external motion, and would have ceased to breathe, had Naturepermitted such an intermission of her functions. The atmosphere wascontagious, and Leicester, who saw all around wishing or fearing hisadvancement or his fall forgot all that love had previously dictated,and saw nothing for the instant but the favour or disgrace whichdepended on the nod of Elizabeth and the fidelity of Varney. He summonedhimself hastily, and prepared to play his part in the scene which waslike to ensue, when, as he judged from the glances which the Queen threwtowards him, Varney's communications, be they what they might, wereoperating in his favour. Elizabeth did not long leave him in doubt; forthe more than favour with which she accosted him decided his triumph inthe eyes of his rival, and of the assembled court of England. "Thou hasta prating servant of this same Varney, my lord," she said; "it is luckyyou trust him with nothing that can hurt you in our opinion, for believeme, he would keep no counsel."
"From your Highness," said Leicester, dropping gracefully on one knee,"it were treason he should. I would that my heart itself lay before you,barer than the tongue of any servant could strip it."
"What, my lord," said Elizabeth, looking kindly upon him, "is there noone little corner over which you would wish to spread a veil? Ah! I seeyou are confused at the question, and your Queen knows she should notlook too deeply into her servants' motives for their faithful duty, lestshe see what might, or at least ought to, displease her."
Relieved by these last words, Leicester broke out into a torrent ofexpressions of deep and passionate attachment, which perhaps, at thatmoment, were not altogether fictitious. The mingled emotions which hadat first overcome him had now given way to the energetic vigour withwhich he had determined to support his place in the Queen's favour;and never did he seem to Elizabeth more eloquent, more handsome, moreinteresting, than while, kneeling at her feet, he conjured her to striphim of all his dower, but to leave him the name of her servant.--"Takefrom the poor Dudley," he exclaimed, "all that your bounty has made him,and bid him be the poor gentleman he was when your Grace first shone onhim; leave him no more than his cloak and his sword, but let him stillboast he has--what in word or deed he never forfeited--the regard of hisadored Queen and mistress!"
"No, Dudley!" said Elizabeth, raising him with one hand, while sheextended the other that he might kiss it. "Elizabeth hath not forgottenthat, whilst you were a poor gentleman, despoiled of your hereditaryrank, she was as poor a princess, and that in her cause you thenventured all that oppression had left you--your life and honour. Rise,my lord, and let my hand go--rise, and be what you have ever been, thegrace of our court and the support of our throne! Your mistress maybe forced to chide your misdemeanours, but never without owning yourmerits.--And so help me God," she added, turning to the audience, who,with various feelings, witnessed this interesting scene--"so help meGod, gentlemen, as I think never sovereign had a truer servant than Ihave in this noble Earl!"
A murmur of assent rose from the Leicestrian faction, which the friendsof Sussex dared not oppose. They remained with their eyes fixed on theground, dismayed as well as mortified by the public and absolute triumphof their opponents. Leicester's first use of the familiarity towhich the Queen had so publicly restored him was to ask her commandsconcerning Varney's offence, "although," he said, "the fellow deservesnothing from me but displeasure, yet, might I presume to intercede--"
"In truth, we had forgotten his matter," said the Queen; "and it wasill done of us, who owe justice to our meanest as well as to our highestsubject. We are pleased, my lord, that you were the first to recall thematter to our memory.--Where is Tressilian, the accuser?--let him comebefore us."
Tressilian appeared, and made a low and beseeming reference. Hisperson, as we have elsewhere observed, had an air of grace and even ofnobleness, which did not escape Queen Elizabeth's critical observation.She looked at him with, attention as he stood before her unabashed, butwith an air of the deepest dejection.
"I cannot but grieve for this gentleman," she said to Leicester. "I haveinquired concerning him, and his presence confirms what I heard, that heis a scholar and a soldier, well accomplished both in arts and arms. Wewomen, my lord, are fanciful in our choice--I had said now, to judge bythe eye, there was no comparison to be held betwixt your follower andthis gentleman. But Varney is a well-spoken fellow, and, to say truth,that goes far with
us of the weaker sex.--look you, Master Tressilian, abolt lost is not a bow broken. Your true affection, as I will hold it tobe, hath been, it seems, but ill requited; but you have scholarship, andyou know there have been false Cressidas to be found, from the Trojanwar downwards. Forget, good sir, this Lady Light o' Love--teach youraffection to see with a wiser eye. This we say to you, more from thewritings of learned men than our own knowledge, being, as we are, farremoved by station and will from the enlargement of experience in suchidle toys of humorous passion. For this dame's father, we can make hisgrief the less by advancing his son-in-law to such station as mayenable him to give an honourable support to his bride. Thou shalt not beforgotten thyself, Tressilian--follow our court, and thou shalt seethat a true Troilus hath some claim on our grace. Think of what thatarch-knave Shakespeare says--a plague on him, his toys come into my headwhen I should think of other matters. Stay, how goes it?
'Cressid was yours, tied with the bonds of heaven; These bonds of heaven are slipt, dissolved, and loosed, And with another knot five fingers tied, The fragments of her faith are bound to Diomed.'
You smile, my Lord of Southampton--perchance I make your player's versehalt through my bad memory. But let it suffice let there be no more ofthis mad matter."
And as Tressilian kept the posture of one who would willingly be heard,though, at the same time, expressive of the deepest reverence, the Queenadded with some impatience, "What would the man have? The wenchcannot wed both of you? She has made her election--not a wise oneperchance--but she is Varney's wedded wife."
"My suit should sleep there, most gracious Sovereign," said Tressilian,"and with my suit my revenge. But I hold this Varney's word no goodwarrant for the truth."
"Had that doubt been elsewhere urged," answered Varney, "my sword--"
"THY sword!" interrupted Tressilian scornfully; "with her Grace's leave,my sword shall show--"
"Peace, you knaves, both!" said the Queen; "know you where youare?--This comes of your feuds, my lords," she added, looking towardsLeicester and Sussex; "your followers catch your own humour, and mustbandy and brawl in my court and in my very presence, like so manyMatamoros.--Look you, sirs, he that speaks of drawing swords in anyother quarrel than mine or England's, by mine honour, I'll bracelethim with iron both on wrist and ankle!" She then paused a minute,and resumed in a milder tone, "I must do justice betwixt the bold andmutinous knaves notwithstanding.--My Lord of Leicester, will you warrantwith your honour--that is, to the best of your belief--that your servantspeaks truth in saying he hath married this Amy Robsart?"
This was a home-thrust, and had nearly staggered Leicester. But he hadnow gone too far to recede, and answered, after a moment's hesitation,"To the best of my belief--indeed on my certain knowledge--she is awedded wife."
"Gracious madam," said Tressilian, "may I yet request to know, when andunder what circumstances this alleged marriage--"
"Out, sirrah," answered the Queen; "ALLEGED marriage! Have you not theword of this illustrious Earl to warrant the truth of what his servantsays? But thou art a loser--thinkest thyself such at least--and thoushalt have indulgence; we will look into the matter ourself more atleisure.--My Lord of Leicester, I trust you remember we mean to tastethe good cheer of your Castle of Kenilworth on this week ensuing. Wewill pray you to bid our good and valued friend, the Earl of Sussex, tohold company with us there."
"If the noble Earl of Sussex," said Leicester, bowing to his rival withthe easiest and with the most graceful courtesy, "will so far honour mypoor house, I will hold it an additional proof of the amicable regard itis your Grace's desire we should entertain towards each other."
Sussex was more embarrassed. "I should," said he, "madam, be but a clogon your gayer hours, since my late severe illness."
"And have you been indeed so very ill?" said Elizabeth, looking on himwith more attention than before; "you are, in faith, strangely altered,and deeply am I grieved to see it. But be of good cheer--we willourselves look after the health of so valued a servant, and to whom weowe so much. Masters shall order your diet; and that we ourselvesmay see that he is obeyed, you must attend us in this progress toKenilworth."
This was said so peremptorily, and at the same time with so muchkindness, that Sussex, however unwilling to become the guest of hisrival, had no resource but to bow low to the Queen in obedience toher commands, and to express to Leicester, with blunt courtesy, thoughmingled with embarrassment, his acceptance of his invitation. As theEarls exchanged compliments on the occasion, the Queen said to her HighTreasurer, "Methinks, my lord, the countenances of these our two noblepeers resemble those of the two famed classic streams, the one so darkand sad, the other so fair and noble. My old Master Ascham would havechid me for forgetting the author. It is Caesar, as I think. See whatmajestic calmness sits on the brow of the noble Leicester, while Sussexseems to greet him as if he did our will indeed, but not willingly."
"The doubt of your Majesty's favour," answered the Lord Treasurer, "mayperchance occasion the difference, which does not--as what does?--escapeyour Grace's eye."
"Such doubt were injurious to us, my lord," replied the Queen. "We holdboth to be near and dear to us, and will with impartiality employ bothin honourable service for the weal of our kingdom. But we will breaktheir further conference at present.--My Lords of Sussex and Leicester,we have a word more with you. 'Tressilian and Varney are near yourpersons--you will see that they attend you at Kenilworth. And as weshall then have both Paris and Menelaus within our call, so we willhave the same fair Helen also, whose fickleness has caused thisbroil.--Varney, thy wife must be at Kenilworth, and forthcoming at myorder.--My Lord of Leicester, we expect you will look to this."
The Earl and his follower bowed low and raised their heads, withoutdaring to look at the Queen, or at each other, for both felt at theinstant as if the nets and toils which their own falsehood had wovenwere in the act of closing around them. The Queen, however, observednot their confusion, but proceeded to say, "My Lords of Sussex andLeicester, we require your presence at the privy-council to be presentlyheld, where matters of importance are to be debated. We will then takethe water for our divertisement, and you, my lords, will attend us.--Andthat reminds us of a circumstance.--Do you, Sir Squire of the SoiledCassock" (distinguishing Raleigh by a smile), "fail not to observethat you are to attend us on our progress. You shall be supplied withsuitable means to reform your wardrobe."
And so terminated this celebrated audience, in which, as throughout herlife, Elizabeth united the occasional caprice of her sex with that senseand sound policy in which neither man nor woman ever excelled her.