[]
THE EARL of ESSEX. A TRAGEDY. As it is ACTED at the THEATRE ROYAL IN COVENT-GARDEN.
WRITTEN BY Mr. HENRY JONES.
LONDON: [...] for R. DODSLEY in Pall-mall. 1753. Price One Shilling and Six Pence.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE PHILIP, Earl of CHESTERFIELD, &c. [...]ight of the moſt Noble Order of the Garter.
[iii]MY LORD,
THAT You may be induced to read this Dedication through, I ſhall be⯑gin by aſſuring You, that I do not [...]end to pay You one Compliment. To [...]iſe You is unneceſſary on all hands; Your Lordſhip, it is offenſive, and for [...] Public, they do not want to be informed [...] Your Character: It lives, at preſent, in [...] Mouths of all Men, and Poſterity will find [...] the Hiſtory of EUROPE.
My Deſign, My LORD, is to expreſs my [...] Gratitude, not to delineate Your Merit. [...] Your LORDSHIP firſt took Notice of me, [...] original Obſcurity, whence You brought [...] into Life, and have ſince continued to [iv]encourage me by Your Countenance and Favour; and I cannot help confeſſing, that [...] have a kind of honeſt Pride in having [...] known, that Your LORDSHIP thought m [...] worthy to be taken under Your Protection.
Theſe, my LORD, are the general Obliga⯑tions that I owe You, of which I have eve [...] wiſhed to raiſe ſome Monument, that ma [...] remain as long as my Name ſhall be remem⯑bered; but I have more particular Reaſons fo [...] preſenting You with this Tragedy, as it w [...] Your LORDSHIP firſt pointed out to me t [...] Subject, and, when it was finiſhed, gave [...] the firſt Aſſurance of its Succeſs, by Yo [...] Approbation. I could not therefore [...] taking Advantage of this Opportunity, to [...] knowledge, publickly, all theſe Favours; and to aſſure You, that I am
Your Lordſhip's moſt Obliged, Moſt Obedient, and Very Humble Servant, HENRY JONE [...]
To Mr. HENRY JONES, on his Tragedy of the Earl of ESSEX.
[v]AS ancient Heroes are renown'd in Song,
For reſcuing Virtue from th'Oppreſſor's Wrong,
So ſhall thy Fame, who ſnatch'd this well-wrought Tale,
From Dulneſs' gloomy Pow'r, o'er Time prevail.
Long had theſe Scenes, wound up with dext'rous Art,
In ſpight of Reaſon, gain'd upon the Heart;
Thaw'd ev'ry frozen Fountain of the Eye,
We wept, 'till even Sorrow's ſelf was dry;
Yet Judgment ſcorn'd what Paſſion had approv'd,
And the Head wonder'd, how the Heart was mov'd,
But, with a Fate revers'd, thy Work ſhall boaſt,
That ſoundeſt Judgments ſhall admire it moſt,
Cloath'd in the eaſy Grandeur of thy Lines,
The Story brightens, as the Diction ſhines.
Renew'd with Vigour as in Age 'tis grown,
The wond'ring Scene ſees Beauties not it's own.
Thus, worn with Years, in Afric's ſultry Vales,
The creſted Snake ſhifts off his tarniſh'd Scales;
Aſſumes freſh Beauties, brighter than the old,
Of changing Colours, intermix'd with Gold:
Reburniſh'd, baſks beneath the ſcorching Ray,
Shines with new Glories in the Face of Day,
[...]arts fiercer Lightning from his brandiſh'd Tongue,
[...]olls more ſublime, and ſeems, at leaſt, more young.
No more ſhall Noiſe, and wild, bombaſtic Rage
[...]ſurp th' applauding Thunder of the Stage;
[...]uſtain no more ſhall paſs for true Sublime,
[...]or Nonſenſe muſically float in Rhime;
[...]or, in a worſe Extreme, ſhall creeping Proſe,
[...]or Nature and Simplicity, impoſe:
[vi] By thee reform'd, each vicious Taſte ſhall fail,
And Critic Juſtice hold aloft her Scale.
Whence beams this dazling Luſtre on thy Mind?
Whence this vaſt Fund of Knowledge in Mankind,
Unletter'd Genius? Whence haſt thou been taught
This Dignity of Stile, this Majeſty of Thought,
This rapid Fire, by cool Correctneſs rul'd,
And ev'ry learned Elegance, unſchool'd?
Say, hath great Shakeſpear's tranſmigrated Shade
Inform'd thy Maſs, or lent thee friendly Aid?
To him, bleſs'd Bard! untaught, 'twas alſo giv'n,
T' aſcend, on native Wings, Invention's brighteſt Heaven, *
Aſſuming Phoebus' Port; and, in his Train,
The Muſes all, like Handmaids, not in vain,
Crouch for Employment.—
The Paſſions too, ſubſervient to his Will,
Attentive wait on his ſuperior Skill;
At the Command of his inchanting Art,
Unlock the burſting Flood-gates of the Heart,
And in the rapid, headlong Stream, bear down
The vanquiſh'd Soul, and make it all his own.
Happy, the Clime, diſtinguiſh'd be the Age,
When Genius ſhoots ſpontaneous for the Stage;
Not too luxuriant, nor too trimly neat,
But, in looſe Wildneſs, negligently great.
O may the gen'rous Plants, ſo wond'rous rare,
Ne'er want the tender Hand of foſt'ring care;
But, like Apollo's fav'rite Tree, be ſeen,
For ever flouriſhing, for ever green.
McNAMARA MORGAN
PROLOGUE
[]OUR deſp'rate Bard a bold Excurſion tries,
Tho' Danger damp'd his Wing, he dar'd to riſe;
From Hope, high rais'd, all glorious Actions ſpring;
'Tis hence that Heroes conquer, Poets ſing.
Even he may feel the ſoul-exalting Fire,
Fame prompts the humbleſt Boſom to aſpire.
Without a Guide this raſh Attempt he made,
Without a Clue from Art, or Learning's Aid.
He takes a Theme where tend'reſt Paſſions glow,
A Theme, your Grandſires felt with pleaſing Woe,
ESSEX' ſad Tale he ſtrives to cloath anew,
And hopes to place it in a ſtronger View.
Poets, like Painters, may, by equal Law,
The labour'd Piece from different Maſters draw,
Perhaps improve the Plan, add Fire and Grace,
And ſtrike th' impaſſion'd Soul through all the Face.
How far our Author has ſecur'd a Claim
To this exalted Palm, this wiſh'd-for Fame,
Your generous Sentiments will ſoon declare:
Humanity is ever prone to ſpare.
'Twere Baſeneſs then your Candour to diſtruſt;
A BRITISH Audience will, at leaſt, be juſt.
A flattering Truth he fearful muſt confeſs,
His ſanguine Friends made Promiſe of Succeſs;
But that, he fears, their ardent Wiſhes wrought,
Since partial Favour ſeldom ſees a Fault.
Then bear, like patient Friends, this firſt Eſſay,
His next ſhall thank you in a nobler Way.
PERSONS.
[]MEN.
- The Earl of ESSEX, Mr. BARRY.
- Earl of SOUTHAMPTON, Mr. SMITH.
- Lord BURLEIGH, Mr. SPARKES.
- Sir WALTER RALEIGH, Mr. USHER.
- Lieutenant of the Tower, Mr. BRANSBY.
WOMEN.
- Queen ELIZABETH, Mrs. BLAND.
- Counteſs of RUTLAND, Mrs. CIBBER.
- Counteſs OF NOTTINGHAM, Mrs. VINCENT.
Lords, Ladies, and Attendants.
THE EARL OF ESSEX.
[1]ACT I.
SCENE, an Antichamber in the Palace.
Enter BURLEIGH and RALEIGH.
BURLEIGH.
THE Bill, at length, has paſs'd oppoſing Numbers,
Whilſt Crowds ſeditious clamour'd round the ſenate,
[...]nd headlong Faction urg'd its Force within.
RALEIGH.
[...] is, my Lord.—The wiſh'd-for Day is come,
[...]h [...]n this proud Idol of the People's Hearts
[...]all now no more be worſhipp'd.—Eſſex falls.
[...]y Lord, the Minute's near that ſhall unravel
[...]e myſtic Schemes of this aſpiring Man.
[...]w Fortune, with officious Hand, invites us
[...] her, and opens wide the Gates of Greatneſs,
[2] The Way to Power. My Heart exults; I ſee,
I ſee, my Lord, our utmoſt Wiſh accompliſh'd!
I ſee great Cecil ſhine without a Rival,
And England bleſs him as her Guardian Saint.
Such potent Inſtruments I have prepar'd
As ſhall, with ſpeed, o'erturn this hated Man,
And daſh him down, by Proof invincible.
BURLEIGH.
His Day of Glory now is ſet in Night,
And all my anxious Hopes, at laſt, are crown'd.
Thoſe Proofs againſt him, Raleigh—
RALEIGH.
All arriv'd.
BURLEIGH.
Arriv'd! how? when?
RALEIGH.
This very Hour, my Lord:
Nay more, a Perſon comes, of high Diſtinction,
To prove ſome ſecret Treaties made by Eſſex,
With Scotland's Monarch, and the proud Tyrone.
BURLEIGH.
How ſay'ſt? to prove 'em?
RALEIGH.
Ay, my Lord, and back'd
With Circumſtances of a ſtronger Nature.
It now appears his Secretary Cuff,
With Plunt and Lee were deep concern'd in this
Deſtructive Scheme, contriv'd to raiſe this Lord,
And ruin Cecil, O it is a ſubtil,
A deep-laid Miſchief, by the Earl contriv'd,
In Hour malignant, to o'erturn the State,
And (Horror to conceive!) dethrone the Queen.
BURLEIGH.
Theſe gladſome Tidings fly beyond my Hopes!
The Queen will liſten now, will now believe,
And truſt the Counſel of her faithful Burleigh.
Let this moſt lucky Circumſtance be kept
[3] A Secret ſtill from public Obſervation.—
Diſpoſe 'em well, till kind Occaſion call
Their Office forth, leſt prying Craft mean while
May tamper with their Thoughts, and change their Minds:
Let them, like Batteries conceal'd, appear
At once, both to ſurprize and to deſtroy.
RALEIGH.
This [...]den Shock, my Lord, this weighty Stroke
Muſt preſs him headlong down to deep Deſtruction:
Indignant Fate marks out this dreaded Man,
And Fortune now has left him.
BURLEIGH.
Thank the Changeling!
His ſervile Faction ſoon will ſtand aghaſt,
And ſink, at diſtance, from his threat'ning Fall.
RALEIGH.
His head ſtrong Friend, the bold Southampton too,
Now finds his raſh Endeavours all defeated;
And ſtorms at thee and the impeaching Commons.
BURLEIGH.
Let him rave on, and rage. — The Lion in
The Toils entangled, waſtes his Strength, and roars
In vain; his Efforts but amuſe me now.—
RALEIGH.
What Triumphs in my Soul ſhall reign, to ſee
This ſanguine and o'erbearing Man brought down
Beneath my Envy; nay, below my Scorn.
How young Ambition ſwells my riſing Hopes!
Tis Heaven, O Cecil, calls, thro' England's Voice,
And Juſtice, bending from above, invites us.
Enter GENTLEMAN.
GENTLEMAN.
My Lord, the Lady Nottingham deſires
With much Impatience to attend your Lordſhip.
BURLEIGH.
[4]What may the Purport of her Bus'neſs be!
Her tender Wiſhes are to Eſſex ty'd
In Love's ſoft Fetters, and endearing Bands:
For him, each melting Thought awakes Deſire,
And all her Soul is laviſh'd on that Lord.—
This unexpected Viſit much ſurprizes me!
What can it mean? She would not come to pry
And pick out Tales for Eſſex's Ear!—Why let her;
I'm arm'd ſecure againſt her Arts and Cunning.
Beſides, her Errand comes too late; for now
Her Minion's doom'd to fall. — Conduct her in:
Exit Gent.
And you, my Raleigh, watch Southampton's Steps;
With Care obſerve each Movement of his Friends;
Let no Advantage on that Side be loſt.
Exit Ral.
Southampton's Eſſex' ſecond Self; he ſhares
His headlong Councils, and adopts his Schemes;
His daring Heart, and bold, ungovern'd Tongue,
Are both enliſted in the raſh Deſigns
Of this proud Lord, nor knows a Will but his.
A Limb, ſo fix'd, muſt with the Body fall.
Enter Lady NOTTINGHAM.
NOTTINGHAM.
Thrice hail to reſcu'd England's guiding Genius'
His Country's Guardian, and his Queen's Defence.
Great Burleigh, thou whoſe Patriot Boſom beats
With Albion's Glory, and Eliza's Fame;
Who ſhield'ſt her Perſon, and ſupport'ſt her Throne:
For thee, what fervent Thanks, what offer'd Vows,
Do proſtrate Millions pay!
BURLEIGH.
Bright Excellence,
This fair Applauſe too highly over-rates,
To much extols the low Deſerts of Cecil.
NOTTINGHAM.
[5]What Praiſes are too high for Patriot-Worth;
Or what Applauſe exceeds the Price of Virtue?
My Lord, Conviction has at laſt ſubdu'd me,
And I am Honour's Proſelyte;—too long
My erring Heart purſu'd the Ways of Faction;
Lown myſelf t' have been your bitt'reſt Foe,
And join'd with Eſſex in each ſoul Attempt
To blaſt your Honour, and traduce your Fame.
BURLEIGH.
Tho' ne'er my wiſhing Heart could call you Friend,
Yet Honour and Eſteem I always bore you;
And never meant, but with Reſpect to ſerve you.
It grieves me, Madam, to have thus offended,
Where moſt my Wiſhes labour'd to oblige.
NOTTINGHAM.
I know your Honour and your Virtues well;
Your public Plans, deſign'd for England's Good,
And ad your private Merit's Weight.—But, Oh,
How blind is Reaſon in the Maze of Paſſion!
I ſought your Ruin, labour'd for your Fall.
But it Repentance may attone for Guilt,
Or Self-reproach for ſharpeſt Penance paſs;
No mortal Breaſt e'er felt more Woe than mine,
And burleigh now may rank me for his Friend.
BURLEIGH.
That [...] a Worth of Soul ſhould be abus'd [...]
Could accuſe my Heart but of a Thought
[...] you Wrong? If any Purpoſe ever
[...]gainſt your Welfare in my Soul aroſe,
That look'd with Malice on your ſhining Merit,
Your matchleſs Beauty, or your brighter Virtues;
Then let me live deſpis'd, a Proverb made
To every paſſing Slave; nay more, the Scorn
And trampl'd Footſtool of the Man I hate.
NOTTINGHAM.
[6]It is enough, my Lord, I know it well,
And feel rekindling Virtue warm my Breaſt;
Honour and Gratitude their Force reſume
Within my Heart, and every Wiſh is your's.
O Cecil, Cecil, what a Foe haſt thou,
A deadly Foe, whilſt hated Eſſex lives.
BURLEIGH.
I know it well, but can aſſign no Cauſe.
NOTTINGHAM.
Ambition's reſtleſs Hand has wound his Thoughts
Too high for England's Welfare; nay, the Queen
Scarce ſits in Safety on her Throne while he,
Th' audacious Eſſex, freely treads at large,
And breathes the common Air. Ambition is
The only God he ſerves, to whom he'd ſacrifice
His Honour, Country, Friends, and every Tye
Of Truth, and Bond of Nature; nay, his Love.
BURLEIGH.
I find this Bus'neſs works as I would have it.
Aſide
The Man that in his public Duty fails,
On private Virtues will diſdainful tread,
As Steps to raiſe him to ſome higher Purpoſe;
In vain each ſofter Wiſh would plead with him,
No tender Movement in his Soul prevails,
And mighty Love, who rules all Nature elſe,
Muſt follow here in proud Ambition's Train.
NOTTINGHAM.
Pronounce it not, my Soul abhors the Sound,
Like Death. — O Cecil, will you kindly lend
Some Pity to a Wretch like me!
BURLEIGH.
Command,
Madam; my Power and Will are yours. I feel
Your Wrongs, I feel the baſe Returns you've met
From this ungrateful and diſloyal Man,
Tho' oft your Goodneſs ſcreen'd him from Reproof;
[7] Believe me worthy to partake your Grievance,
Accept my Service, and employ my Power.
NOTTINGHAM.
Will Cecil's friendly Ear vouchſafe to bend
It's great Attention to a Woman's Wrongs,
Whoſe Pride and Shame, Reſentment and Deſpair,
Riſe up in raging Anarchy at once,
To tear with ceaſeleſs Pangs my tortur'd Soul?
Words are unequal to the Woes I feel,
And Language leſſens what my Heart endures.
Paſſion repuls'd with Scorn, and proud Diſdain,
Recoils indignant on my ſhrinking Soul,
Beats back my vital Springs, and cruſhes Life.
BURLEIGH.
Madam your Wrongs, I muſt confeſs, are great;
Yet ſtill. I fear, you know not half his Falſhood.
Who, that had Eyes to look on Beauty? Who,
That had a Heart to feel that Beauty's Power?
Who, but the falſe, perfidious Eſſex, cou'd
Prefer to Nottingham a Rutland's Charms?
Start not. — By Heav'n I tell you nought but Truth,
What I can prove, paſt doubt; that he receiv'd
The Lady Rutland's Hand, in ſacred Wedlock,
The very Night before his ſetting out
For Ireland.
NOTTINGHAM.
O may quick Deſtruction ſeize 'em!
May Furies blaſt, and Hell deſtroy their Peace!
May all their Nights —
BURLEIGH.
I pray have Patience, Madam,
Reſtrain a while your Rage, Curſes are vain.
But there's a ſurer Method to deſtroy him;
And if you'll join with me, 'tis done: he falls.
NOTTINGHAM.
[8]Ha! ſay'ſt thou, Burleigh! ſpeak, my Genius, ſpeak
Be quick as Vengeance' ſelf to tell me how.
BURLEIGH.
You muſt have heard the Commons have impeach'd him
And we have Proofs ſufficient for his Ruin.
But then the Queen — you know how fair he ſtands
In her Eſteem; and Rutland too, his Wife,
Hath full Poſſeſſion of the Royal Ear.
What then avail Impeachments or the Law's
Severeſt Condemnation, while the Queen
May ſnatch him from th' uplifted Hand of Juſtice.
Here then, my Nottingham, begins thy Taſk.
Try ev'ry Art t' incenſe the Queen againſt him,
Then ſtep between her and the Lady Rutland▪
Let not her Fondneſs find the leaſt Acceſs
To the Queen's Heart to counterwork our Purpoſe.
Obſerve Southampton too, with jealous Eye;
Prevent, as much as poſſible his Suit:
For well I know he will not fail to try
His Eloquence on the Behalf of Eſſex.
NOTTINGHAM.
It ſhall be done; his Doom is fix'd; he dies.
O 'twas a precious Thought! I never knew
Such Heart-felt Satisfaction!—Eſſex dies,
And Rutland, in her Turn, ſhall learn to weep.
The Time is precious; I'll about it ſtreight.
Come Vengeance, come, aſſiſt me now to breathe
Thy venom'd Spirit in the Royal Ear.
Exit Nottingham
BURLEIGH.
There ſpoke the very Genius of the Sex.
A diſappointed Woman ſets no Bounds
To her Revenge. Her Temper's form'd to ſerve [...]
[9] Enter RALEIGH.
RALEIGH.
The Lord Southampton with ungovern'd Rage,
Reſents aloud his diſappointed Meaſures:
I met him in the outward Court; he ſeeks
In haſte your Lordſhip, and forgetting Forms,
Purſues me hither, and demands to ſee you.
BURLEIGH.
Raleigh, 'tis well—Withdraw—Attend the Queen;
Leave me to deal with this o'erbearing Man.
Ex. Ral.
Enter SOUTHAMPTON.
SOUTHAMPTON.
Where is the Man, whom Virtue calls her Friend?
I give you Joy, my Lord! — Your quenchleſs Fury
At length prevails, —and now your Malice triumphs:
You've hunted Honour to the Toil of Faction,
And view his Struggles with malicious Joy.
BURLEIGH.
What means my Lord?
SOUTHAMPTON.
O Fraud! ſhall valiant Eſſex
Be made a Sacrifice to your Ambition?
Oh it ſmells foul indeed, of rankeſt Malice
And the vile Stateſman's Craft.—You dare not ſure
Thus bid Defiance to each Shew of Worth,
Each Claim of Honour: dare not injure thus
Your ſuffering Country in her braveſt Son?
BURLEIGH.
[...]ut why ſhould ſtern Reproach her angry Brow
[...]et fall on me? Am I alone the Cauſe
That gives this working Humour Strength? Do I
[...]ſtruct the public Voice to warp his Actions?
[10] Juſtice untaught, ſhall poize th' impartial Scales,
And every curious Eye may mark the Beam.
SOUTHAMPTON.
The ſpecious Shield which private Malice bears,
Is ever blazon'd with ſome public Good;
Behind that artful Fence, ſculk low, conceal'd,
The bloody Purpoſe, and the poiſon'd Shaft;
Ambition there, and Envy, neſtle cloſe;
From thence, they take their fatal Aim unſeen;
And honeſt Merit is the deſtin'd Mark.
BURLEIGH.
Your warm diſtemper'd zeal puts raſhly by
The cool directing Hand of wholeſome Reaſon.
No Imputation [...]oul ſhall reſt on me;
My honeſt Purpoſes defy aloud
The ſlander-ſpreading Tongue of buſy Faction,
To caſt its Venom on my fair Report,
Or tell Poſterity, Thus Cecil did.
My Country's Welfare, and my Queen's Comma
Have ever been my guiding Stars thro' Life,
My ſure Direction ſtill. — To theſe I now
Appeal; — from theſe no doubt this Lord's Miſcond [...]
Hath widely ſtray'd, and Reaſon, not reviling,
Muſt now befriend his Cauſe.
SOUTHAMPTON.
How ill had Providence
Diſpos'd the ſuffering World's oppreſt Affairs,
Had ſacred Right's eternal Rule, been left
To crafty Politicians' partial Sway?
Then Power and Pride wou'd ſtretch th' enormous [...]
And call their arbitrary Portion, Juſtice:
Ambition's Arm, by Av'rice urg'd, wou'd pluck
The Core of Honeſty from Virtue's Heart,
And plant Deceit, and Rancour in its Stead:
Falſhood wou'd trample then on Truth and Hono [...]
And Envy poiſon ſweet Benevolence.
[11] Oh, 'tis a goodly Groupe of Attributes,
And well befits ſome Stateſmen's righteous Rule!
Out, out upon ſuch baſe and bloody Doings!
The Term of Being is not worth the Sin;
No human Boſom can endure its Dart.
Then put this cruel Purpoſe from thee far,
Nor let the Blood of Eſſex whelm thy Soul.
BURLEIGH
Tis well, my Lord! your Words no Comment need;
No doubt, they've well explain'd your honeſt Meaning:
Tis clear and full. — To Parts, like yours, Diſcretion
Wou'd be a Clog, and Caution but Incumbrance.
Yet mark me well, my Lord, the clinging Ivy
With th' Oak may rife, but with it too muſt fall.
SOUTHAMPTON.
Thy empty Threats, ambitious Man, hurt not
The Breaſt of Truth. Fair Innocence, and Faith,
Thoſe Strangers to thy practis'd Heart, ſhall ſhield
My Honour, and preſerve my Friend.—In vain,
Thy Malice, with unequal Arm, ſhall ſtrive
To tear th' applauded Wreath from Eſſex' Brow;
His honeſt Laurei, held aloſt by Fame,
Above thy blaſting reach, ſhall ſafely flouriſh,
And bloom immortal to the lateſt Times:
Whilſt thou, amidſt thy tangling Snares involv'd,
Shalt ſink confounded, and unpitied fall.
BURLEIGH.
Rail on, proud Lord, and give thy Choler vent:
It waſtes itſelf in vain; the Queen ſhall judge
Between us in this warm Debate. To her
I now repair, and in her royal Preſence
You may approve your Innocence and Faith.
Perhaps you'll meet me there. — Till then, farewel.
Exit.
SOUTHAMPTON.
Confuſion wait thy Steps, thou cruel Monſter:
[12] My noble and illuſtrious Friend betray'd,
By crafty Faction and tyrannic Power!
His ſinking Trophies, and his falling Fame,
Oppreſs my very Soul. I'll to the Queen,
Lay all their Envy open to her View,
Confront their Malice and preſerve my Friend.
Exit.
The QUEEN diſcovered ſitting on her Throne.
RALEIGH, Lords, and Attendants.
QUEEN.
Without conſulting me! preſumptuous Man!
Who governs here? — What! am not I your Queen
You dar'd not, were he preſent, take this Step.
RALEIGH.
Dread Sovereign, your ever faithful Commons
Have, in their Gratitude, and Love for you,
Preferr'd this ſalutary Bill againſt him.
Enter BURLEIGH.
QUEEN.
You, my Lord Burleigh, muſt have known of this.
The Commons here impeach the Earl of Eſſex
Of practicing againſt the State and me.
Methinks I might be truſted with the Secret.
Speak, for I know it well, 'twas thy Contrivance.
Ha! was it not? You dare not ſay it was not.
BURLEIGH.
I own my Judgment did concur with theirs.
His Crimes, I fear, will juſtify the Charge,
And vindicate their Loyalty and mine.
QUEEN.
Ha! tell not me your ſmooth, deceitful Story!
I know your Projects, and your cloſe Cabals.
[13] You'd turn my Favour into Party Feuds,
And uſe my Scepter as the Rod of Faction:
But Henry's Daughter claims a nobler Soul.
I'll nurſe no party, but will reign o'er all,
And my ſole Rule ſhall be to bleſs my People:
Who ſerves them beſt has ſtill my higheſt Favour;
This Eſſex ever did.
Enter SOUTHAMPTON.
Behold, Southampton,
What a baſe Portrait's here! The faithful Eſſex
Here drawn at large, aſſociating with Rebels
To ſpoil his Country, and dethrone his Queen.
SOUTHAMPTON.
It is not like. — By Heav'n the Hand of Envy
Drew theſe falſe Lines, diſtorted far from Truth
And Honour, and unlike my noble Friend
As Light to Shade, or Hell to higheſt Heav'n.
Then ſuffer not, thou beſt of Queens, this Lord,
This valiant Lord, to fall a Sacrifice
To Treachery and baſe Deſigns; who now
Engages Death in all his horrid Shapes,
Amidſt a hardy race inur'd to Danger:
But let him, face to face, this Charge encounter,
And every Falſhood, like his Foes, ſhall fly.
QUEEN.
To me you ſeem to recommend ſtrict Juſtice,
In all her Pomp of Power. But are you ſure
No ſubtil Vice conceal'd aſſumes her Garb?
Take heed, that Malice does not wear the Maſk,
Nor Envy deck her in the borrow'd Guiſe.
Rancour has often darken'd Reaſon's Eye,
And Judgment winks, when Paſſion holds the Scale.
[...]mpeach the very Man to whom I owe
My brighteſt Rays of Glory! Look to it, Lords,
[14] Take care, be cautious on what Ground you tread;
Let honeſt Means alone ſecure your Footing.
Raleigh and you withdraw, and wait our Leiſure.
Exeunt Ral. and South.
Lord Burleigh, ſtay; we muſt with you have farther
Conf'rence.—I ſee this baſe Contrivance plain.
Your Jealouſy and Pride, your Envy of
His ſhining Merit, brought this Bill to Light.
But mark me, as you prize our high regard,
And Favour, I command you to ſuppreſs it:
Let not our Name and Power be embarraſs'd
In your perplexing Schemes. 'Twas you began,
And therefore you muſt end it.
BURLEIGH.
I obey.
Yet humbly would intreat you to conſider
How new, unpopular, this Step muſt be,
To ſtand between your Parliament's Enquiry
And this offending Lord.—We have ſuch Proofs—
QUEEN.
Reſerve your Proofs to a more proper Seaſon,
And let them then appear. But once again
We charge you on your Duty and Allegiance,
To ſtop this vile Proceeding; and to wait
Till Eſſex can defend himſelf in Perſon.
If then your Accuſations are of Force,
The Laws, and my Conſent, no doubt, are open.
He has my ſtrict Command, with Menace mix'd,
To end effectually this hated War,
Ere he preſume to quit the Iriſh Coaſt.
BURLEIGH.
Madam my Duty now compels me to—
QUEEN.
No more! ſee that my Orders be obey'd.
Exit Bur.
Eſſex a Traytor! — it can never be —
His grateful and his honeſt Soul diſdains it. —
[15] I know him hot, ambitious, raſh, impatient;
But then he's firmly anchor'd in his Duty:
Tho' ſtormy paſſions toſs him to and fro.
Can he prove falſe? ſo high advanc'd, ſo honour'd,
So near my Favour—and—I fear, ſo near
My Heart!—Impoſſible.—This Burleigh hates him,
And, as his Rival, therefore would deſtroy him:
But he ſhall find his narrow Schemes defeated.
In vain their fraudful Efforts ſhall combine,
To ſhake my ſettled Soul, my firm Deſign;
Reſolv'd to lift bright Virtue's Palm on high,
Support her Grandeur, and her Foes defy.
Exit.
ACT II.
[16]Enter BURLEIGH and RALEIGH.
BURLEIGH.
ESSEX arriv'd! Confuſion to my Hopes!
His Preſence will deſtroy me with the Queen.
I much ſuſpect he had ſome private Notice,
Perhaps, a punctual Order to return.
He lurks too near her Heart.—What's to be done?
Prepare the Witneſſes with Speed; apprize
The Lady Nottingham.—Southampton's Pride,
And Rutland's too, will lift the Creſt again.
But fly, my Raleigh, ſend me Nottingham.
Exit Ral
We muſt alarm the Queen with new Commotions
In many Parts of her Dominions rais'd:
All this, and more, muſt now be paſs'd for Truth.
This ſudden Blow has ſtruck me to the Soul;
'Tis gone too far, he dies—proud Eſſex now,
Or Cecil falls. Now is th' important Criſis—
Keep up thy uſual Strength; my better Genius,
Direct my Steps to cruſh my mortal Foe.
Enter QUEEN and RALEIGH.
QUEEN.
It cannot be!—Return'd without my Leave!
Againſt my ſtrict Command!—Impoſſible!
RALEIGH.
Madam, the Earl is now at Court, and begs
An Audience of your Majeſty.
QUEEN.
[17]Amazing!
What! break his Truſt! deſert his high Command!
Forſake his Poſt, and diſobey his Queen!
'Tis falſe—invented all.—You wiſh it ſo.
BURLEIGH.
Madam, I wiſh ſome other Rumours falſe.
Reports, I fear, of great Concern to you.
QUEEN.
What Rumours, what Reports? Your Frown wou'd much
Denote: your Preface ſeems important—Speak.
BURLEIGH.
Some new Commotions are of late ſprung up
In Ireland, where the Weſt is all in Arms,
And moves with haſty March to join Tyrone,
And all his Northern Clans. A dreadful Power!
Nay more, we have Advices from the Borders
Of ſudden Riſings, near the Banks of Tweed!
'Tis thought, to favour an Attempt from Scotland.
Mean while, Tyrone embarks ſix thouſand Men
To land at Milford, and to march where Eſſex
Shall join them with his Friends.
QUEEN.
In League with James!
And plotting with Tyrone! It cannot be.
His very Pride diſdains ſuch Perfidy.
But is not Eſſex here without my Leave!
Againſt my ſtrict Command! that, that's Rebellion.
The reſt, if true, or falſe, it matters not.
What's to be done?—admit him to my Preſence?
No, no—my Dignity, my Pride forbid it.
Ungrateful Man, approach me not; riſe, riſe
Reſentment, and ſupport my Soul! Diſdain,
Do thou aſſiſt me.—Yes, it ſhall be ſo.
BURLEIGH.
I ſee ſhe muſes deep; her Mind works upwards,
And paints it's ſtruggling Efforts in her Face.
[18] Tyrone's Invaſion wakes her Fear and Anger,
And all her Soul is one continued Storm.
QUEEN.
For once my Pride ſhall ſtoop; and I will ſee
This raſh, audacious, this once favour'd Man;
But treat him as his daring Crimes deſerve.
Enter SOUTHAMPTON.
SOUTHAMPTON kneeling.
Permit me, Madam, to approach you thus;
Thus lowly to preſent the humble Suit
Of the much injur'd, faithful, Earl of Eſſex:
Who dares not, unpermitted, meet your Preſence.
He begs, moſt gracious Queen, to fall before
Your royal Feet, to clear him to his Sovereign,
Whom, next to Heav'n, he wiſhes moſt to pleaſe.
Let Faction load him with her labouring Hand,
His Innocence ſhall riſe againſt the Weight,
If but his gracious Miſtreſs deign to ſmile.
QUEEN.
Let him appear.
Exit South
Now to thy trying Taſk,
My Soul! put forth, exert thy utmoſt Strength,
Nor let an injur'd Queen be tame. — Lye ſtill,
My Heart! I cannot liſten to thee now.
Enter ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON.
ESSEX.
Forgive, thou, injur'd Majeſty, thou beſt
Of Queens, this ſeeming Diſobedience. See,
I bend ſubmiſſive in your royal Preſence,
With Soul as penitent, as if before
Th' all-ſearching Eye of Heav'n. But, Oh, that Frown
My Queen's Reſentment wounds my inmoſt Spirit,
Strikes me like Death, and pierces thro' my Heart.
QUEEN.
[19]You have obey'd, my Lord! you've ſerv'd me well!
My deadly Foes are quell'd! and you come home
A Conqueror! your Country bids you welcome!
And I, your Queen, applaud!—Triumphant Man!
What! is it thus that Eſſex gains his Laurels?
And is it thus you've borne my high Commiſſion?
How durſt you diſregard your truſted Duty,
Deſert your Province, and betray your Queen?
ESSEX.
I came to clear my injur'd Name from Guilt,
Imputed Guilt, and ſlanderous Accuſations.
My Shame was wafted in each paſſing Gale,
Each ſwelling Tide came loaded with my Wrongs;
And Echo ſounded forth, from Faction's Voice,
The Traytor Eſſex.—Was't not hard, my Queen,
That whilſt I ſtood in Danger's dreadful Front,
Encountering Death in every ſhape of Terror,
And bleeding for my Country?—Was't not hard,
My mortal Enemies at home, like Cowards,
Shou'd in my Abſence baſely blaſt my Fame?
QUEEN.
It is the Godlike Attribute of Kings
To raiſe the Virtuous, and protect the Brave.
I was the Guardian of your Reputation,
What Malice, or what Faction then cou'd reach you?
My Honour was expos'd, engag'd for your's:
But you found Reaſon to diſlike my Care,
And to yourſelf aſſum'd the wreſted Office.
ESSEX.
If aught diſloyal in this Boſom dwells,
If aught of Treaſon lodges in this Heart,
May I to Guilt and laſting Shame be wedded,
The Sport of Faction, and the Mark of Scorn;
The World's Deriſion, and my Queen's Abhorrence.
Stand forth the Villain, whoſe invenom'd Tongue
Would taint my Honour, and traduce my Name,
[20] Or ſtamp my Conduct with a Rebel's Brand!
Lives there a Monſter in the Haunts of Men
Dares tear my Trophies from their pillar'd Baſe,
Eclipſe my Glory and diſgrace my Deeds?
QUEEN.
This ardent Language, and this glow of Soul,
Were nobly graceful in a better Cauſe;
Where Virtue warrants, and where Truth inſpires.
But injur'd Truth with Brow invincible
Frowns ſtern Reproof upon the falſe Aſſertion,
And contradicts it with the Force of Facts.
From me you have appeal'd, ungrateful Man;
The Laws, not I, muſt liſten to your Plea.
Go ſtand the Teſt ſevere, abide the Tryal,
And mourn too late the Bounty you abus'd
Exit Queen, Southampton, &c.
ESSEX.
Is this the juſt Requital, then, of all
My Patriot-Toils and oft-encounter'd Perils,
Amidſt th' Inclemencies of Camps and Climes?
Then be it ſo.—Unmov'd and dauntleſs, let me
This Shock of adverſe Fortune firmly ſtand.
But yet, methinks, 'tis ſomewhat ſudden too.
My Greatneſs, now depriv'd of each Support,
Which bore ſo long its envy'd Weight aloft,
Muſt quick to ruin fall, and cruſh my Hopes.
Enter SOUTHAMPTON.
SOUTHAMPTON.
Alas, my Lord, the Queen's Diſpleaſure kindles
With Warmth increaſing, whilſt Lord Burleigh labours
T' inflame her Wrath, and make it ſtill burn fiercer.
ESSEX.
I ſcorn the Blaze of Courts, the Pomp of Kings;
I give them to the Winds and lighter Vanity:
Too long they've robb'd me of ſubſtantial Bliſs,
[21] Of ſolid Happineſs, and true Enjoyment.
But lead me to my mourning Love, alas!
She ſinks beneath oppreſſing Ills, ſhe fades,
She dies for my afflicting Pangs, and ſeeks
Me ſorrowing in the Walks of Woe. — Diſtraction!
O lead me to her, to my Soul's Deſire.
SOUTHAMPTON.
Let Caution guide you in this dangerous Step.
Conſider well, my Lord, the Conſequence—
For ſhould the Queen (forbid it Heaven!) diſcover
Your private Loves, your plighted Hands, no Power
On Earth could ſtep between you and Deſtruction.
Lock up this Secret from the prying World.
Enter BURLEIGH.
BURLEIGH.
My Lord of Eſſex, 'tis the Queen's Command
That you forthwith reſign your Staff of Office;
And, further, ſhe confines you to your Palace.
ESSEX.
Welcome, my Fate; let Fortune do her utmoſt;
I know the worſt, and will confront her Malice,
And bravely bear the unexpected Blow.
BURLEIGH.
The Queen, my Lord, demands your quick Compliance.
ESSEX.
Go then, thou gladſome Meſſenger of Ill,
And, joyful, feaſt thy fierce rapacious Soul
With Eſſex' ſudden and accompliſh'd Fall.
The trampled Coarſe of all his envy'd Greatneſs,
Lies proſtrate now, beneath thy ſavage Feet;
But ſtill th' exalted Spirit mounts above thee.
Go, tell the Queen thy own deteſted Story;
Full in her Sight diſcloſe the ſnaky Labyrinths,
And lurking Snares you plant in Virtue's Path,
To catch Integrity's unguarded Step.
BURLEIGH.
[22]How ill repaid are public Toils and Cares,
Where active Honeſty with Station join'd,
Incurs but Calumny, and foul Reproach!
Your Country has impeach'd, your Queen accus'd you;
To theſe addreſs your beſt Defence, and clear
Your queſtion'd Conduct from diſloyal Guilt.
What Anſwer to the Queen ſhall I return?
ESSEX.
My Staff of Office I from her receiv'd,
And will to her, and her alone, reſign it.
BURLEIGH.
This bold Refuſal will incenſe the Queen;
This Arrogance will make your Guilt the ſtronger.
Exit.
SOUTHAMPTON.
Suſtain, my noble Friend, thy wonted Greatneſs;
Collect thy Fortitude, and ſummon all
Thy Soul, to bear with Strength this cruſhing Weight,
Which falls ſevere upon thee; whilſt my Friendſhip
Shall lend a helping Hand, and ſhare the Burthen.
I'll hence with Speed, and to the Queen repair,
And all the Power of warmeſt Words employ
To gain you yet one Audience more, and bring
Her Majeſty to milder Thoughts, Farewel.
Exit.
ESSEX.
As newly wak'd from all my Dreams of Glory,
Thoſe gilded Viſions of deceitful Joys,
I ſtand confounded at th' unlook'd-for Change,
And ſcarcely feel this Thunder-bolt of Fate.
The painted Clouds, which bore my Hopes aloft,
Alas, are vaniſh'd now to yielding Air,
And I am fallen indeed!—
How weak is Reaſon, when Affection pleads?
How hard to turn the fond deluded Heart
From flatt'ring Toys, which ſooth'd it's Vanity?
The laurell'd Trophy and the loud Applauſe,
[23] The Victor's Triumph, and the People's Gaze,
The high-hung Banner, and recording Gold,
Subdue me ſtill, ſtill cling around my Heart,
And pull my Reaſon down.
Enter RUTLAND.
RUTLAND.
O let me fly
To claſp, embrace, the Lord of my Deſires!
My Soul's Delight, my utmoſt Joy, my Husband!
I feel once more his panting Boſom beat,
Once more I hold him in my eager Arms,
Behold his Face, and loſe my Soul in Rapture.
ESSEX.
Tranſporting Bliſs! my richeſt, deareſt Treaſure!
My mourning Turtle! my long abſent Peace!
O come yet nearer, nearer to my Heart!
My raptur'd Soul ſprings forward to receive thee:
Thou Heav'n on Earth, thou Balm of all my Woe!
RUTLAND.
O ſhall I credit then each raviſh'd Senſe?
Has pitying Heaven conſented to my Prayer?
It has, it has, my Eſſex is return'd!
But Language poorly ſpeaks the Joys I feel;
Let Paſſion paint, and Looks expreſs my Soul.
ESSEX.
With thee, my ſweeteſt Comfort, I'll retire
From ſplendid Palaces, and glittering Throngs,
To live emboſom'd in the Shades of Joy;
Where ſweet Content extends her friendly Arms,
And gives increaſing Love a laſting Welcome.
With thee I'll timely fly from proud Oppreſſion,
Forget our Sorrows, and be bleſs'd for ever.
RUTLAND.
O let us hence, beyond the Reach of Power;
Where Fortune's Hand ſhall never part us more.
[24] In this calm State of Innocence and Joy,
I'll preſs thee to my throbbing Boſom cloſe.
Ambition's Voice ſhall call in vain; the World,
The thankleſs World, ſhall never claim thee more,
And all thy Bus'neſs ſhall be Love and me.
ESSEX.
The Queen, incens'd at my Return, abandons me
To Cecil's Malice, and the Rage of Faction.
I'm now no more the favourite Child of Fortune:
My Enemies have caught me in the Toil,
And Life has nothing worth my Wiſh but thee.
RUTLAND.
Deluſive Dream of fancy'd Happineſs!
And has my fatal Fondneſs then deſtroy'd thee!
Oh! have I lur'd thee to the deadly Snare
Thy cruel Foes have laid? Oh! have I put
Thy Life in Peril? My officious Tears
Would needs inform thee of their wicked Schemes,
I dreaded Cecil's Malice, and my Heart,
Longing to ſee thee with Impatience, liſten'd
To it's own Alarms; and Prudence ſunk beneath
The Force of Love.
ESSEX.
Forbear, my only Comfort;
O tell me not of Danger, Death, and Eurleigh,
Let every Star ſhed down it's mortal Bane
On my unſhelter'd Head: Whilſt thus I fold
Thee in my raptur'd Arms; I'll brave 'em all,
Defy my Fate, and meet it's utmoſt Rigour.
RUTLAND.
Alas! my Lord, conſider where we are.
Oh! 'tis the Queen's Apartment; Death is here:
I came to thee through Peril's ambuſh'd Path,
And every Danger riſqu'd for thy Embrace.
Each precious Moment is by Fate beſet,
And Time ſtands trembling whilſt we thus confer.
ESSEX.
[25]Then let us hence from this deteſted Place;
My reſcu'd Soul diſdains the Houſe of Greatneſs,
Where humble Honeſty can find no Shelter.
From hence we'll fly, where Love and Virtue call,
Where Happineſs invites,—that Wiſh of all;
With ſweet Content enjoy each bliſsful Hour,
Beyond the Smiles of Fraud, or Frowns of Power.
ACT III.
[26]Enter BURLEIGH and NOTTINGHAM.
NOTTINGHAM.
MY Lord, I've ſought you out with much Impa⯑tience.
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 for 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, Fam cand Life,
Had driv'n him to Extremes—my Malice did it,
My Envy was his Bane; with all that Paſſion
Or 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,
[27] But ſoon was countermanded, and deſir'd
To bring the Earl of Eſſex to her Preſence.
I like it not, and much I ſear 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 maſt 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.
[28] 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's ungrateful and degenerate School;
Where ſtubborn Vice in every Form appears,
Mocking Correction's ineffectual Rod.
It is, indeed, an Evil hard to bear,
[29] 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.
[30]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 Affiction 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
[31] 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, Rutlana, 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!
Me e 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.
[32]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.
[33]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 ſir'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.
[34]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.
[35]Hence from my Sighr, 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!
ReſtraingoodHeaven! 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.
[36]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.
ACT IV.
[37]Enter QUEEN, NOTTINGHAM.
QUEEN.
NOT taken yet!
NOTTINGHAM.
No, Madam, for the Earl
Of Eſſex leagu'd with deſperate Friends, made ſtrong
And obſtinate Reſiſtance; till at length
O'erpower'd by Numbers and encreaſing Force,
He ſled for Shelter to a ſmall Retreat,
A Summer-houſe upon the Thames; reſolv'd
To periſh rather than ſubmit to Power.
QUEEN.
O Wretch deteſted! O unheard-of Treaſon!
Conſpire againſt my Life, within my View!
My Reach! ſo near my very Palace Gates!
Perſidious Monſter!—What can Prudence do,
Or human Wiſdom more than judge from Outſide,
And flattering Likeneſs? Kings can ſee no farther.
High Heaven, alone, can read the Heart, in all
Its utmoſt Frauds, and myſtic Characters.
O where ſhall Majeſty beſtow its Favours,
Since Eſſex has a Traitor prov'd to me,
Whoſe Arm hath rais'd him up to Power and Greatneſs,
Whoſe Heart hath ſhar'd in all his ſplendid Triumphs,
And feels ev'n now his trait'rous Deeds with Pity?
[38] But hence with Pity and the Woman's Pangs;
Reſentment governs, and the Queen ſhall puniſh.
Enter BURLEIGH.
BURLEIGH.
Illuſtrious Queen, the Traitors all are ſeiz'd.
Th' Intelligence was true. Their black Debates
Were held at Drury-houſe. The dire Reſult
Was this; that Eſſex ſhou'd alarm the Citizens
To open Mutiny, and bold Rebellion;
On this pernicious Errand went the Earl,
Join'd by his deſp'rate and ſeditious Friends.
Their Purpoſe was to ſeize your Royal Palace,
And ſacred Perſon; but your faithful People,
As by one Mind inform'd, one Zeal inſpir'd,
Roſe up at once, and with their Virtue quell'd them
QUEEN.
Thanks to their honeſt, to their loyal Hearts.
But ſay, were any Perſons elſe concern'd
Of high Diſtinction, or of noted Rank?
BURLEIGH.
Yes, Madam, many more, ſeduc'd of late;
'Mong whom the bold outhampton foremoſt ſtands,
Precipitate and raſh; whoſe Pow'r, tho' great,
Lags far behind his Will to do you hurt.
They're now our Pris'ners and are ſate ſecur'd;
But Eſſex 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.
QUEEN.
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 defir'd, but for their Sake?
[39] The Public Good is all my Private Care.
Have I not ever thought the meaneſt Subject,
Oppreſt by Power, was, in his juſt Complaint,
Above a King? What Britiſh Boſom has
By foreign Tyranny been griev'd, whoſe Wrongs
I have not felt as mine, as mine redreſs'd?
Or have I juſtly made a ſingle Man
My Foe? Then cou'd I think this grateful Iſle
Contain'd one Traitor's Heart? But, leaſt of all
That Eſſex' Breaſt ſhould lodge it? Call the Monſter,
And let me meet this Rebel, Face to Face.
Do you withdraw and wait within our Call.
Exit Burl. &c.
Enter ESSEX.
You ſee we dare abide your dang'rous Preſence,
Tho' Treaſon ſits within your Heart enthron'd,
And on that Brow Rebellion lowrs, where once
Such boaſted Loyalty was ſaid to flouriſh.
How low the Traitor can degrade the Soldier!
Guilt glares in conſcious Dyes upon thy Cheek,
And inward Horror trembles in thine Eye.
How mean is Fraud! how baſe Ingratitude!
ESSEX.
Forbear Reproach, thou injur'd Majeſty,
Nor wound, with piercing Words, a Heart already
With Anguiſh torn, and bleeding with Remorſe.
Your awful Looks, alone, are arm'd with Death,
And Juſtice gives them Terror.
QUEEN.
Hapleſs Man!
What Cauſe could prompt, what Fiend could urgetheeon
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 Conſidence
[40] That giving Bounty ever could inſpire,
Or ſeeming Gratitude and Worth could promiſe?
ESSEX.
Alas, I own my Crimes, and feel my Treaſons;
They preſs me down beneath the Reach of Pity.
Deſpair alone can ſhield me from myſelf.
Oh let the little Space I live be curs'd
With countleſs Woes; let Death unpitied, come;
My Name be mention'd with the utmoſt Scorn!
If all my Life can feel, or Fame can ſuffer,
May ſerve to mitigate my Queen's Diſpleaſure.
QUEEN.
My Pride forbids me to reproach thee more:
My Pity rather would relieve thy Sorrow.
I ſee Conviction, and ſevere Remorſe,
Within thy Mind, at work. But much I fear
That Death alone can calm the raging Conflict.
The People's Clamours, and my ſpecial Safety,
Call loud for Juſtice, and demand your Life.
But if Forgiveneſs from an injur'd 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.
ESSEX.
O Sounds angelic! Goodneſs undeſerv'd!
My ſwelling Heart can keep no Bounds, my Soul
Flows o'er.—And will my gracious Queen forgive me?
Oh let me proſtrate thus before you fall,
My better Angel, and my Guardian Genius!
Permit me, royal Miſtreſs, to pronounce
My faithful Sentiments, my Soul's true Dictates;
Vouchſafe your Eſſex but this one Requeſt,
This only Boon, he'll thank you with his laſt,
His dying Breath, and bleſs you in his Paſſage.
QUEEN.
Riſe, my Lord.
If aught you have to offer can allay
[41] Your Woes, and reconcile you to your Fate,
Proceed;—and I with patient Ear will liſten.
ESSEX.
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 urg'd the ſhameful Blow I felt.
And this (O fatal Raſhneſs!) made me think
My Queen had given her Eſſex 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.
QUEEN.
Unhappy Man! My yielding Soul is touch'd,
And Pity pleads thy Cauſe within my Breaſt.
ESSEX.
Say but, my gracious Sov'reign, ere I go
For ever from your Preſence, that you think me
Guiltleſs of all Attempts againſt your Throne,
And ſacred Life. Your faithful Eſſex ne'er
Could harbour in his Breaſt ſo ſoul a Thought.
Believe it not, my Queen. By Heav'n I ſwear,
When in my higheſt Pitch of Glory rais'd,
The ſplendid Noon of Fortune's brighteſt Sun-ſhine,
Not Ages of Renown, could yield me half
The Joy, nor make my Life ſo greatly bleſt,
As ſaving yours, tho' for a ſingle Hour.
QUEEN.
[42]My Lord, I think you honeſt. Nay, I own,
Whatever Coldneſs I put on, was meant
To ſave you from the Malice of your Foes.
I judg'd your Crimes, what you yourſelf pronounc'd 'em,
The raſh Effect of an intemp'rate Zeal.
ESSEX.
Was ever Wretch like Eſſex, thus undone
By Goodneſs in Exceſs, and laviſh'd Grace!
Oh I could tear my erring Heart with theſe
Revenging Hands! — What Bleſſings have I loſt!
What Clemency abus'd! — Now could I wiſh
For lengthen'd Life—indeed, for endleſs Years.
A whole Eternity's too ſhort, to ſhew
My pious Sorrows, and attone my Folly.
QUEEN.
Too well the Paſſage to my Heart he finds;
And Pity's Hand lets in the dangerous Gueſt.
How weak is Reaſon, when oppos'd to Nature!
Aſide.
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, left you then ſhou'd 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 whenſoever
You give, or ſend it back, by Heav'n I ſwear,
As I do hope for Mercy on my Soul,
That I will grant whatever Boon you aſk.
ESSEX.
[43]O Grace ſurprizing! moſt amazing Goodneſs!
Words cannot paint the Tranſport of my Soul.
Let me receive it on my grateful Knees,
At once to thank and bleſs the Hand that gives it.
QUEEN.
Depend, my Lord, on this; 'twixt you and me
This Ring ſhall be a private Mark of Faith
Gives the Ring.
Inviolate. Be conſident, chear up,
Diſpel each melancholy Fear, and truſt
Your Sovereign's Promiſe; ſhe will ne'er forſake you.
ESSEX.
Let Providence diſpoſe my Lot as 'twill,
May watchful Angels ever guard my Queen;
May healing Wiſdom in her Counſels reign,
And firm Fidelity ſurround her Throne;
May Victory her dreaded Banners bear,
And joyful Conqueſts crown her Soldiers Brow;
Let every Bliſs be mingled in her Cup,
And Heaven at laſt become her great Reward.
Exit.
QUEEN.
Who waits there?
Enter BURLEIGH and OFFICERS.
Guard your Pris'ner ſafe. 'Tis done;
And yet foreboding Tremors ſhake my Heart.
Something ſits heavy here, and preſſes down
My Spirits with it's Weight. What can it mean?
Suppoſe he is condemn'd, my royal Word
Is plighted for his Life; his Enemies
No doubt will cenſure much.—No Matter,—let 'ern.
I know him honeſt, and deſpiſe their Malice.
Unhappy State, where Mercy and Compaſſion
Too often meet with Clamour and Reproach;
But Princes muſt endure, for public Good,
[44] The narrow Cenſures of miſguiding Crowds.
Enter Counteſs of RUTLAND.
RUTLAND.
Where is the Queen? I'll fall before her Feet
Proſtrate, implore, beſiege her royal Heart,
And force her to forgive.
QUEEN.
What means this Frenzy?
RUTLAND.
O gracious Queen, if ever Pity touch'd
Your gen'rous Breaſt, let not the cruel Ax
Deſtroy his precious Life; preſerve my Eſſex,
Preſerve, from ſhameful Death, the noble, loyal,
O ſave the brave,—the beſt of Subjects.—Save
My Life! my Hope! my Joy! my All! my Husband!
QUEEN.
Husband! What ſudden deadly Blow is this!
Hold up, my Soul, nor ſink beneath this Wound.
You beg a Traitor's Life!
RUTLAND.
O gracious Queen!
He ever lov'd,—was ever faithful, brave.—
If Nature dwells about your Heart, O ſpurn
Me not; my Lord! my Love! my Husband bleeds!
QUEEN.
Take her away.
RUTLAND.
I cannot let you go.
Hold off your Hands.—Here on this Spot I'll fix,
Here loſe all Senſe; ſtill let me ſtretch theſe Arms,
Inexorable Queen, he yet may live.
O give him to my poor afflicted Heart!
One pitying Look, to ſave me from Diſtraction.
QUEEN.
I'll hear no more. I'm tortur'd—take her hence.
RUTLAND.
[45]Nay, force me not away.—Inhuman Wretches!
O Mercy! Mercy!—Then to thee, good Heav'n,
(My Queen, my cruel Queen, denies to hear me)
To thee I call, to thee for Mercy bend.
Melt down her Boſom's frozen Senſe to feel
Some Portion of my deadly Grief, my fell
Diſtraction. Turn, O turn, and ſee a Wife,
A tortur'd Wife. —
QUEEN.
Why am I not obey'd?
RUTLAND.
Nay, do not thus
Abandon me to ſell Deſpair. Juſt Heaven,
That ſees my Sorrows, will avenge the Wrong,
This cruel Wrong, this barbarous Tyranny.
Forc'd off.
QUEEN.
Wedded to Rutland! Moſt unhappy Pair!
And Oh ill-ſated Queen! Never till now
Did Sorrow ſettle in thy Heart it's Throne.
Now black Deſpair it's cloudy Curtain draws
Around thy ſetting Peace, where, Joy, alas
No more ſhall dawn, nor ſmiling Hope return.
Recal my Pledge of Safety from his Hands,
And give him up to Death!—But Life or Death
To me is equal now. Diſtraction dwells
Within my tortur'd Soul, and Furies rend it.
Unhappy State, where Peace ſhall never come!
One fatal Moment has confirm'd my Doom,
Turn'd all my Comfort to inteſtine Strife,
And ſill'd with mortal Pangs, my future Life.
Exit.
ACT V.
[46]Enter RALEIGH, and Lieutenant of the Tower.
RALEIGH.
THeir Peers, with much Indulgence, heard their Plea,
And gave them ample Scope for their Defence;
But nought avail'd, their Crimes were too notorious.
They bore their Sentence with becoming Spirit;
And here's the Royal Mandate for their Deaths.—
The Lady Nottingham!—What brings her hither!
Enter NOTTINGHAM.
NOTTINGHAM.
Lieutenant, lead me to the Earl of Eſſex.
I bring a Meſſage to him from the Queen.
LIEUTENANT.
He's with his Friend the brave Southampton, Madam,
Preparing now for their expected Fate.
But I'll acquaint his Lordſhip with your Pleaſure.
Ex.
RALEIGH.
What means this Meſſage? Does the Queen relent?
NOTTINGHAM.
I fear ſhe does: for ſuch a War of Paſſions,
Such varying Tumults never ſtrove within
Her Breaſt till now. Sometimes ſhe rails at Eſſex,
And calls him Villain, Traitor, dooms him dead;
Yet in a Moment turns again to Pity.
At length ſhe ſent me to th' ungrateſul Earl,
[47] To learn if he could offer aught that might
Induce her Royal Mercy to Forgiveneſs.
Go you to Court, for Cecil there expects you.
I've promis'd to acquaint him with what paſſes
'Twixt me and Eſſex ere I ſee the Queen.
RALEIGH.
Madam, I go.
Exit.
NOTTINGHAM.
Now Vengeance ſteel my Heart!
Offended Woman, whilſt her Pride remains,
To Malice only, and Revenge will bow;
And every Virtue at that Altar ſacrifice.
But ſee, he comes, with manly Sorrow clad.
There was a Time, that Preſence cou'd ſubdue
My Pride, and melt my Heart to gentle Pity.
I then could find no Joy but in his Smiles;
And thought him lovely as the Summer's Bloom;
But all his Beauties now are hateful grown.
Enter ESSEX.
ESSEX.
Whether you bring me Death or Life I know not.
But, if ſtrict Friendſhip and Remembrance paſt
May aught preſage to my afflicted Heart,
Sure Mercy only from thoſe Lips ſhould flow,
And Grace be utter'd by that friendly Tongue.
NOTTINGHAM.
My Lord, I'm glad you think me ſtill your Friend.
I come not to upbraid but ſerve you now;
And pleas'd I am, to be the Meſſenger
Of ſuch glad Tidings in the Day of Trouble,
As now I bring you. When the Queen had heard
That by the Lords you were condemn'd to die,
She ſent me, in her Mercy, here to know,
If you had aught to offer that might move
Her Royal Clemency to ſpare your Life.
ESSEX.
[48]Could any Circumſtance new Luſtre add
To my dread Sovereign's Goodneſs, 'tis the making
The kind, the generous Nottingham it's Meſſenger.
O Madam, cou'd my glowing Heart expreſs
Its grateful Sentiments, 'twou'd ſpeak ſuch Language
As Angels utter, when they praiſe their Maker.
NOTTINGAAM.
'Tis well, my Lord; but there's no Time to ſpare,
The Queen impatient waits for my Return.
ESSEX.
My Heart was wiſhing for ſome faithful Friend,
And bounteous Heav'n hath ſent thee to my Hopes.
Know then, kind Nottingham (for now I'll truſt
Thee with the deareſt Secret of my Life
'Tis not long ſince the Queen (who well ſoreſaw
To what the Malice of my Foes wou'd drive me)
Gave me this Ring, this ſacred Pledge of Mercy;
And with it, made a ſolemn Vow to Heav'n,
That, whenſoever I ſhould give or ſend
It back again, ſhe'd freely grant whate'er
Requeſt I then ſhou'd make.
NOTTINGHAM.
Give, give it me,
My Lord, and let me fly on Friendſhip's Wings,
To bear it to the Queen, and to it add
My Prayers and Influence to preſerve thy Life.
ESSEX.
O take it then,—it is the Pledge of Life,
The precious Spring that drives my Vital Stream
Around, and keeps my Heart ſtill warm: it is
The Door of Breath, the Hope of Joy, the Shield
Of Friendſhip.—O it is my dear Southampton's
Laſt, laſt remaining Stay, his Thread of Being!
Which more than Worlds I prize.—O take it then,
Take it, thou Guardian Angel of my Life,
And offer up the Incenſe of thy Pray'r!
[49] O beg, intreat, implore her Majeſty,
From public Shame, and ignominious Death,
And from th' obdurate Ax, to ſave my Friend.
NOTTINGHAM.
My Lord, with all the Pow'rs that Nature gave,
And Friendſhip can inſpire, I'll urge the Queen
To grant you your Requeſt.
ESSEX.
Kind Nottingham,
Your pious Offices ſhall ever be
My ſervent Theme; and if my doubtful Span
Relenting Heav'n ſhould ſtretch to Years remote,
Each paſſing Hour ſhall ſtill remind my Thoughts,
And tell me that I owe my All to thee.
My Friend ſhall thank you too for lengthen'd Life.
And now I'll fly with Comfort to his Arms,
To let him know the Mercy that you bring.
Exit.
NOTTINGHAM.
Yes, you ſhall feel my Friendſhip's Weight fall heavy
Upon your guilty Soul, ungrateful Man!
Your ſalſe, diſdainful Heart ſhall pay the Fine
Of Love neglected, and of Beauty ſcorn'd.
SCENE the Court.
Enter QUEEN, BURLEIGH.
QUEEN.
Ha! is not Nottingham return'd?
BURLEIGH.
No Madam.
QUEEN.
Diſpatch a ſpeedy Meſſenger to haſte her.
My agitated Heart can find no reſt,
So near the Brink of Fate.—Unhappy Man!
[50] Enter NOTTINGHAM.
How now, my Nottingham, what News from Eſſex?
What ſays the Earl?
NOTTINGHAM.
I wiſh, with all my Soul,
Th' ungrateful Taſk had been another's Lot,
I dread to tell it.—Loſt, ill ſated Man!
QUEEN.
What means this Myſtery, this ſtrange Behaviour?
Pronounce—declare at once; what ſaid the Earl?
NOTTINGHAM.
Alas, my Queen, I fear to ſay; his Mind
Is in the ſtrangeſt Mood, that ever Pride
On blackeſt Thoughts begot. He ſcarce wou'd ſpeak.
And when he did, it was with Sullenneſs,
With haſty Tone, and down-caſt Look.
QUEEN.
Amazing!
Not feel the Terrors of approaching Death!
Nor yet the joyful Dawn of promis'd Life!
NOTTINGHAM.
He rather ſeem'd inſenſible to both,
And with a cold Indifference heard your Offer;
Till warming up, by ſlow Degrees, Reſentment
Began to ſwell his reſtleſs, haughty Mind,
And proud Diſdain provok'd him to exclaim
Aloud, againſt the partial Power of Fortune,
And Faction's Rage.—I beg'd him to conſider
His ſad Condition, nor repulſe with Scorn,
The only Hand that could preſerve him.
QUEEN.
Ha!
What! ſaid he nothing of a private import?
No Circumſtance—no Pledge—no Ring!
NOTTINGHAM.
[51]None, Madam,
But with contemptuous Front diſclaim'd at once
Your proſſer'd Grace; and ſcorn'd, he ſaid, a Life
Upon ſuch Terms beſtow'd.
QUEEN.
Impoſſible!
Could Eſſex treat me thus? You baſely wrong him,
And wreſt his Meaning from the purpos'd Point.
Recall betimes the horrid Words you've utter'd!
Confeſs, and own the whole you've ſaid was ſalſe.
NOTTINGHAM.
Madam, by Truth, and Duty both compell'd,
Againſt the Pleadings of my pitying Soul,
I muſt declare (Heaven knows with what Reluctance)
That never Pride inſulted Mercy more.
He ran o'er all the Dangers he had paſt:
His mighty Deeds; his Service to the State;
Accus'd your Majeſty of partial leaning
To favourite Lords, to whom he falls a Sacrifice;
Appeals to Juſtice, and to future Times,
How much he feels from proud Oppreſſion's Arm.
Nay, ſomething too he darkly hinted at,
Of jealous Diſappointment, and Revenge.
QUEEN.
Eternal Silence ſeal thy venom'd Lips!
What haſt thou utter'd, Wretch, to rouze at once
A Whirlwind in my Soul, which roots up Pity,
And deſtroys my Peace?
Ha! he deſies me then! Audacious Traytor!
Let him this Inſtant to the Block be led.
Exit Not.
Upbraid me with my fatal Fondneſs for him!
Ungrateful, barbarous Ruſſian! Oh Elizabeth,
Remember now thy long eſtabliſh'd Fame,
Thy envy'd Glory, and thy Father's Spirit!
Accuſe me of Injuſtice too, and Cruelty!
Yes, I'll this Inſtant to the Tower, forget
[52] My regal State, and to his Face confront him:
Confound th' audacious Villain with my Preſence,
And add new Terrors to th' uplifted Ax.
Exit.
SCENE the Tower.
ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON diſcovered.
ESSEX.
O name it not, my Friend ſhall live, he ſhall;
I know her royal Mercy, and her Goodneſs
Will give you back to Life, to length of Days,
And me, to Honour, Loyalty, and Truth.
Death is ſtill diſtant far.
SOUTHAMPTON,
In Life's firſt Spring,
Our green Affections grew apace, and proſper'd;
The genial Summer ſwell'd our joyful Hearts,
To meet and mix each growing fruitful Wiſh.
We're now embark'd upon that ſtormy Flood
Where all the Wiſe and Brave are gone before us,
Ere ſince the Birth of Time, to meet Eternity.
And what is Death, did we conſider right?
Shall we, who ſought him in the Paths of Terror,
And fac'd him in the dreadful Walks of War;
Shall we, aſtoniſh'd, ſhrink, like frighted inſants,
And ſtart at Scaffolds, and their gloomy Trappings?
ESSEX.
Yet ſtill I truſt long Years remain of friendſhip.—
Let ſmiling Hope drive Doubt and Fear away,
And Death be baniſh'd far; where creeping Age,
Diſeaſe and Care, invite him to their Dwelling.
I feel Aſſurance riſe within my Breaſt,
That all will yet be well.
SOUTHAMPTON.
Count not on Hope—
We never can take Leave, my Friend, of Life,
[53] On nobler Terms. Life! what is Life! A Shadow!
Its Date is but th' immediate Breath we draw;
Nor have we Surety for a ſecond Gale.
Ten thouſand Accidents in Ambuſh lie
For the embody'd Dream.
A frail and fickle Tenement it is;
Which like the brittle Glaſs, that meaſures Time,
Is often broke, ere half its Sands are run.
ESSEX.
Such cold Philoſophy the Heart diſdains;
And Friendſhip ſhudders at the moral Tale.
My Friend, the fearful Precipice is paſt,
And Danger dare not meet us more. Fly ſwiſt,
Ye better Angels, waſt the welcome Tidings
Of Pardon, to my Friend; of Life and Joy.
Enter LIEUTENANT.
LIEUTENANT.
I grieve to be the Meſſenger of Woe.
But muſt, my Lords, intreat you to prepare
For inſtant Death. Here is the royal Mandate
That orders your immediate Execution.
ESSEX.
Immediate Execution!—What, ſo ſudden!
No Meſſage from the Queen? or Nottingham?
LIEUTENANT.
None, Sir.
ESSEX.
Deluded Hopes! O worſe than Death!
Perſidious Queen, to make a Mock of Life!
My Friend, my Friend deſtroy'd! O piercing Thought!
O diſmal Chance!—In my Deſtruction ruin'd!
In my ſad Fall undone! Why could not mine,
My Life attone for both; my Blood appeaſe?
Can you, my Friend, forgive me?
SOUTHAMPTON.
Yes, O yes,
[54] My Boſom's better Half, I can. With thee
I'll gladly ſeek the Coaſt unknown, and leave
The leſſening Mark of irkſome Life behind.
With thee, my Friend, 'tis Joy to die! 'tis Glory!
For who wou'd wait the tardy Stroke of Time,
Or cling like Reptiles to the Verge of Being,
When we can bravely leap from Life at once,
And ſpring triumphant in a Friend's Embrace?
Enter RALEIGH.
RALEIGH.
To you, my Lord Southampton, from the Queen
A Pardon comes: Your Life her Mercy ſpares.
ESSEX.
For ever bleſt be that indulgent Power
Which ſaves my Friend. This Weight ta'en off, my Soul
Shall upward ſpring, and mingle with the Bleſt.
SOUTHAMPTON.
All-ruling Heavens, can this, can this be juſt?
Support me, hold, ye ſtraining Heart-ſtrings hold,
And keep my ſinking Frame from Diſſolution.
O 'tis too much for mortal Strength to bear,
Or Thought to ſuffer! No, I'll die with thee.
They ſhall not part us, Eſſex.
ESSEX.
Live, O live,
Thou nobleſt, braveſt, beſt of Men and Friends!
Whilſt Life is worth thy Wiſh, till Time and thou
Agree to part, and Nature ſend thee to me;
Thou gen'rous Soul, farewel;—live and be happy;
And, Oh, may Life make largely up to thee
Whatever Bleſſing Fate has thus cut off
From thy departing Friend.
LIEUTENANT.
My Lord, my Warrant
Strictly forbids to grant a Moment's Time.
SOUTHAMPTON.
[55]Oh muſt we part for ever!—Cruel Fortune!
Wilt thou then tear him hence?—Severe Divorce!
Let me cling round thy ſacred Perſon ſtill,
Still claſp thee to my Boſom cloſe, and keep
Stern Fate at Diſtance.
ESSEX.
O my Friend, we'll meet
Again where Virtue finds a juſt Reward,
Where factious Malice never more can reach us.
Recall thy Reaſoh, be thyſelf once more.—
I fear it not.—This hideous Monſter, Death,
When ſeen at Diſtance, ſhocks weak Nature's Eye;
But Reaſon, as it draws more near, defies it.—
I thank thy Sorrows, but cou'd ſpare 'em now.
I need not bid thee guard my Fame from Wrongs:
And, Oh! a dearer Treaſure to thy Care
I truſt, than either Life or Fame—my Wife.
Her bitter Sorrows pierce my Soul; for her
My Heart drops Blood!—Oh, ſhe will want a Friend.
Then take her to thy Care; do thou pour Balm
On her deep-wounded Spirit, and let her find
My tender Helps in thee.—I muſt be gone,
My ever faithful, and my gallant Friend.—
I prithee leave this Woman's Work.—Farewel.—
Take this laſt, dear Embrace.—Farewel for ever!
SOUTHAMPTON.
My burſting Breaſt!—I fain would ſpeak, but Words
Are poor.—Farewel!—
But we ſhall meet again, embrace in one
Eternal Band, which never ſhall be loos'd.
Exit.
ESSEX.
To Death's concluding Stroke, lead on, Lieutenant.
My Wife!—Now Reaſon, Fortitude, ſupport me;
For now, indeed, comes on my foreſt Trial.
[56] Enter Counteſs of RUTLAND.
Oh thou laſt, dear Reſerve of Fortune's Malice;
For Fate can add no more!—Oh com'ſt thou then
In this dread Hour, when all my ſtraining Thoughts
Are ſtruggling in the tendereſt Ties of Nature;
Oh com'ſt thou now t' arreſt my parting Soul,
And force it back to Life!
RUTLAND.
Thou ſole Delight,
Thou only Joy which Life cou'd ever give,
Or Death deprive me of, my wedded Lord!
I come, with thee determin'd to endure
The utmoſt Rigour of our angry Stars,
To join thee, fearleſs, in the Graſp of Death,
And ſeek ſome Dwelling in a World beyond it.
ESSEX.
Too much, thou Partner of this diſmal Hour,
Thy gen'rous Soul wou'd prompt thee to endure;
Nor can thy tender, trembling Heart ſuſtain it.
Long Years of Bliſs remain in Store for thee,
And ſmiling Time his Treaſures ſhall unfold
To bribe thy Stay.
RUTLAND.
Thou cruel Comforter!
Alas! what's Life! what's hated Life to me?
Can aught beneath this ſtarry Hemiſphere,
Which Earth's Extent, and Nature's Wealth can yield,
Which proud Ambition ſtretches to enjoy,
Or Paſſion pants or, recompenſe thy Loſs?
Alas, this Univerſe, this goodly Frame,
Shall all as one continued Curſe appear,
And every Object blaſt when thou art gone.
ESSEX.
O ſtrain not thus the little Strength I've left,
The weak Support that holds up Life, to bear
[57] A few ſhort Moments more, its Weight of Woe,
Its Loſs of thee. O turn away thoſe Eyes,
Nor with that Look melt down my fixt Reſolve;
And yet a little longer let me gaze
On that lov'd Form. Alas, I feel my Sight
Grows dim, and Reaſon from her Throne retire;
For Pity's Sake let go my breaking Heart,
And leave me to my Fate.
RUTLAND.
Why wilt thou ſtill
Of parting talk; ſince Life its thouſand Gates
Unbars to let us thro' together. Death
Is but a Step that reaches to Eternity.
O that the friendly Hand of Heav'n wou'd ſnatch
Us both, at once, above the diſtant Stars!
Where Fortune's venom'd Shafts can never pierce,
Nor cruel Queens deſtroy!—Nay look not ſo.
ESSEX.
The awful Searcher, whoſe impartial Eye
Explores the Secrets of each human Heart,
And every Thought ſurveys, can witneſs for me,
How cloſe thy Image clings around my Soul;
Retards each riſing Wiſh, and draws me back
To Life, entangled by thy lov'd Idea.
When fell Neceſſity thoſe Ties ſhall break,
For quickly break they muſt—when I from Earth
On Faith's white Angel Wings to Heaven ſhall ſoar,
Thy laſting Form ſhall ſtill my Mind poſſeſs,
Where Bliſs ſupreme each Faculty o'erwhelms,
And raptur'd Angels glow.—
LIEUTENANT.
My Lord, the Time
Too far is ſtretch'd, it now grows late.
ESSEX.
Lead on.
RUTLAND.
Stay, ſtay, my Love, my deareſt, dying Lord!
[58] Ah whither wouldſt thou go? Ah, do not leave me!
Alas, I'll haſten to attend your Flight;
And Nature gives Conſent we ſhould not part.
I feel each Faculty for Fate prepare,
And my quick Soul wou'd fain ſet out before you.
O precious Pangs!—O dear Diſtreſs!—ſtill cloſer
To thy quick throbbing Heart let mine complain,
And on thy labouring Boſom breathe my laſt.
Faints.
ESSEX.
Thou ſinking Excellence! thou matchleſs Woman!
Shall Fortune rob me of thy dear Embrace,
Or Earth's whole Power, or Death divide us now!
Stay, ſtay, thou ſpotleſs, injur'd Saint, and take—
LIEUTENANT.
My Lord, already you have been indulg'd
Beyond what I can warrant by my Orders.
ESSEX.
Oh let me on her dying Boſom fall,
Embrace her ſpotleſs Form.—One Moment more
Afford me to my Sorrows.—Oh! look there!—
Cou'd bitter Anguiſh pierce your Heart, like mine,
You'd pity now the mortal Pangs I feel,
The Throbs that tear my vital Strings away,
And rend my agonizing Soul.—
LIEUTENANT.
My Lord.
ESSEX.
But one ſhort Moment more, and I attend.
Ye ſacred Miniſters, that Virtue guard,
And ſhield the Righteous in the Paths of Peril,
Reſtore her back to Life, and lengthen'd Years
Of Joy; dry up her bleeding Sorrows all:
O cancel from her Thoughts this diſmal Hour,
And blot my Image from her ſad Reembrance.
'Tis done.—
And now, ye trembling Cords of Life give way:
[59] Nature and Time let go your Hold; Eternity
Demands me.
Exeunt Eſſex, Lieutenant.
WOMAN.
She returns to Life, ſee! help!
RUTLAND.
Where has my loſt benighted Soul been wandring?
What means this Miſt that hangs about my Mind?
Thro' which Reflection's painful Eye diſcerns
Imperfect Forms, and horrid Shapes of Woe.
The Cloud diſpels, the Shades withdraw, and all
My dreadful Fate appears.—O where's my Lord?
My Life! my Eſſex! O whither have they ta'en him?
Enter QUEEN and Attendants.
QUEEN.
To Execution! fly with Lightning's Wings,
And ſave him. Hah! by whoſe Command was this?
Stop, ſtop the fatal Blow.—My Fears were true.
Exit one of the Attendants.
RUTLAND.
Thou ſaving Angel ſent from Heaven! my Queen,
My gracious Queen, be quick!—the bloody Burleigh!
A Moment may deſtroy him. Stretch thy Arm,
Defend, defend, O ſhatch him from the Blow!
Preſerve my Huſband! O Elizabeth,
Look down upon me. Angels move her Heart
To pity, ſave him, ſave him, gracious Queen.
QUEEN.
Be calm, he ſhall not die. Riſe up. I came
To ſave his Life.
RUTLAND.
'Tis Mercy's Voice that ſpeaks.
My Eſſex ſhall again be mine. My Queen,
My bounteous, gracious Queen has ſaid the Word.
May Troops of Angels guard thy ſacred Life,
[56] And, in thy lateſt Moments, waſt thy Soul
To meet that Mercy, in the Realms of Joy,
Which now thy royal Goodneſs grants to me.
Enter BURLEIGH.
BURLEIGH.
Madam, your Orders came, alas! too late.
Ere they arriv'd the Ax had fall'n on Eſſex.
RUTLAND.
Ha! dead! What Hell is this that opens round me?
What Fiend art thou that draws the horrid Scene?
Hah Burleigh! bloody Murd'rer, where's my Huſband!
O where's my Lord, my Eſſex?
Deſtruction ſeize and Madneſs rend my Brain.
See, ſee, they bend him to the fatal Block;
Now now the horrid Ax is lifted high,
It falls, it falls, he bleeds, he bleeds, he dies!
QUEEN.
Alas, her Sorrows pierce my ſuffering Heart.
RUTLAND.
Eternal Diſcord tear the ſocial World,
And Nature's Laws diſſolve! expunge, eraſe
The hated Marks of Time's engraving Hand,
And every Trace deſtroy! Ariſe, Deſpair,
Aſſert thy rightful Claim, poſſeſs me all!
Bear, bear me to my murther'd Lord, to claſp
His bleeding Body in my dying Arms;
And in the Tomb embrace his dear Remains,
And mingle with his Duſt for ever.
Exit.
QUEEN.
Hapleſs Woman!
She ſhall henceforth be Partner of my Sorrows.
And we'll contend who moſt ſhall weep for Eſſex.
O quick to kill, and ready to deſtroy,
To Burleigh.
Cou'd no Pretext be found, no Cauſe appear,
[61] To lengthen Mercy out a Moment more,
And ſtretch the Span of Grace? O cruel Burleigh!
This, this was thy dark Work, unpitying Man!
BURLEIGH.
My gracious Miſtreſs, blame not thus my Duty,
My firm Obedience to your high Command.
The Laws condemn'd him firſt to die; nor think
I ſtood between your Mercy and his Life.
It was the Lady Notingham, not I.
Herſelf confeſs'd it all, in wild Deſpair,
That from your Majeſty to Eſſex ſent,
With Terms of proffer'd Grace, ſhe then receiv'd
From his own Hand a fatal Ring, a Pledge,
It ſeems, of much Importance, which the Earl,
With earneſt Suit, and warm Entreaty, begg'd her,
As ſhe would prize his Life, to give your Majeſty.
In this ſhe fail'd—in this ſhe murder'd Eſſex.
QUEEN.
O barbarous Woman!
Surrounded ſtill by Treachery and Fraud!
What bloody Deed is this? Thou injur'd Eſſex!
My Fame is ſoil'd to all ſucceeding Times:
But Heav'n alone can view my breaking Heart;
Then let it's Will be done.—
From hence let proud, reſiſting Mortals know
The Arm parental, and th' indulgent Blow.
To Heav'n's corrective Rod, ſubmiſſive, bend,
Adore it's Wiſdom, on it's Power depend;
Whilſt ruling Juſtice guides eternal Sway,
Let Nature tremble, and let Man obey.
Appendix A EPILOGUE.
[]NEWS! News! good Folks, rare News, and you ſhall know it—
I've got Intelligence about our Poet!
Who do you think be is?—You'll never gueſs;
An IRISH BRICKLAYER, neither more or leſs.
And now the Secret's out, you cannot wonder,
That in commencing Bard he made a Blunder.
Has be not left the Better for the Worſe,
In quitting Solid Brick for empty Verſe?
Can he believe th' Example of Old Ben,
Who chang'd (like him) the Trowel for the Pen,
Will in his Favour move your Critic Bowels?
You rather wiſh, moſt Poct's Pons were Trowels,
Our Man is honeſt, ſenſible, and plain,
Nor has the Poet made him pert, or vain:
No Beau, no Courtier, nor conceited Youth;
But then ſo rude, he always ſpeaks the Truth:
I told him he muſt flatter, learn Addreſs,
And gain the Heart of ſome rich Patroneſs:
'Tis ſhe, ſaid I, your Labours will reward,
If you but join the Bricklay'r with the Bard;
As thus—Should ſhe be old and worſe for Wear,
You muſt new-caſe her, front her and repair;
If crack'd in Fame, as ſcarce to bear a Touch,
You cannot uſe your Trowel then too much;
[] In ſhort, whate'er her Morals, Age or Station,
Plaiſter and white-waſh in your Dedication.
Thus I advis'd—but he deteſts the Plan:
What can be done with ſuch a ſimple Man?
A Poet's nothing worth and nought availing,
Unleſs he'll furniſh, where there is a Failing.
Authors in theſe good Times are made and us'd,
To grant thoſe Favours Nature has refus'd.
If he won't fib, what Bounty can be crave?
We pay for what we want, not what we have.—
Nay tho' of every Bleſſing we have ſtore,
Our Sex will always wiſh—a little more.—
If he'll not bend his Heart to this his Duty,
And ſell (to who will buy) Wit, Honour, Beauty;
The Bricklay'r ſtill for him the proper Trade is,
Too rough to deal with Gentlemen and Ladies.—
In ſhort—they'll all avoid him and neglect him,
Unleſs that you his Patrons will protect him.
FINIS.
Notes
*
Alluding to the Prologue to Henry V.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2016). TEI. 4856 The Earl of Essex A tragedy As it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden Written by Mr Henry Jones. University of Oxford Text Archive. University of Oxford, License: Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License [http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/]. https://hdl.handle.net/11378/0000-0005-D965-5