These singular words were spoken plainly and bluntly enough, but with an air of deference. And they were absolutely sincere. Whatever the Queen’s views might be concerning the sanity of play-actors, she was compelled to recognize this speech, perhaps more by its manner than by its matter, as the product of a powerful and well-ordered mind. It was now the turn of the Queen to ponder deeply. In spite of herself, she could not help being affected by the demeanor of this man. Now it almost seemed as if Providence had set itself to work on the poet’s behalf, and was determined to make the most of a favorable turn. For that was the moment chosen by it for the announcement to be made to the Queen that two most distinguished persons, the Earl of Pembroke and Sir Walter Raleigh to wit, most humbly craved audience of her Grace. “I will see them,” said the Queen, peremptorily. “Let them be brought to me.” She then added sourly to the Lord Treasurer, “They are upon this same plaguy business, I’ll warrant.” Presently appeared these two distinguished gentlemen, true ornaments of their age. Each was a singularly handsome man, not yet in middle life; each had the marked ease of bearing of those who are very familiar with their surroundings. The Queen received them with the rough humor, caustic, witty and by no means unpleasant, which she inherited from her father and kept for her intimates. “Well, my friends,” she said, “I’ll wager a tester I know already what is your good pleasure.” “Your grace were infinitely less in wisdom were the case otherwise,” said Pembroke. “You have come to plead the cause, I do not doubt, of a very foolish and wicked man.” The silence of Pembroke gave assent to the harsh words. “Well, my lord, I hope you are prepared as is Master Burbage here to yield your life for him.” “If it were our privilege, your grace, to do that, we should be greater men than we are like to be--with all respect to Sir Walter here--in the eyes of posterity.” “A pox upon posterity! Who cares a fig for it? The hour in which we live alone matters to all of us. But tell me, my lord, why do you choose to concern yourself with the matter of this foolish play-actor? And also I would have you make known your wishes in regard to him.” “Touching your grace’s first question,” said Pembroke, “I am honored by the friendship of one whom I esteem beyond all other men, and for whose deliverance I will gladly pay into the treasury as round a sum as I can well afford.” The Queen gave a grunt of disgust. The raddled face wore a very unpleasant look. “Humph,” said she. “That seems little enough, my lord. Master Burbage here offers his life.” Pembroke turned instantly to the tragedian, with his most courtier-like bow. “Master Burbage does himself infinite honor,” he said. “I offer the half of my estate and he offers the whole of his, therefore is he twice the man that I am in the sight of heaven.”