QUEEN. Hah! What aged companion thou, abruptly thrust upon me? Unflattering mirror! Thou art no courtier! Care!—subtle poison—sure if slow.—I see thy working.—Remembrancer I thank thee. Still! Providence, I wait thy pleasure—though what a life! An atmosphere of terror—my vital air—to school me, doubtless, for thy purpose—to teach me cautious circumspection. Mysterious awe hung o’er my childhood—the latent influence of my mother’s fate, though then to me unknown. Nordic! I seem alone in this. The taint was upon all around—a wrinkle on every brow—a sorrow unexpressed in midst of joy and show, and brave festivity.—Danger and insecurity seemed to sit on all! England was merry—loud the roar of wassail.—But thoughtful people stopped short in laughter as if chid; and swaggering, warlike Britons, though in peace, held themselves erect for fight. The social heavens were black with clouds—surcharged with thunder in the midst of sunshine. Such! my earliest—undefined impression. Ever present—ever coming danger! Yet I feared not—rather longed to meet it face to face (_she walks musing_). When Edward died, and during Mary’s reign, what portents scared mankind! Unnatural frost bound the Earth, stifled vegetation dried up rivers. The Thames was solid till the month of May! Showers of red hail, like drops of gore congealed, sign of coming strife—a nation’s blood! and, as it lay around the roses in their gardens, men thought of York and Lancaster, and grew pale. Births of hideous monsters; frighted women; bodies with double heads and limbs.—Storms rent the welkin with unheard of fury, tore trees of ancient growth up by the roots, and hurled them in wild passion through the air! The summer’s sun in hot July, as putting mourning on, grew black as winter night. Rain, a second deluge! flooded the houses of terror-stricken London, and changed its streets to torrents. (_Her soliloquy is broken off by the entrance of the_ EARL OF EFFINGHAM. _Enter_ LORD WILLIAM HOWARD, EARL OF EFFINGHAM. _The_ QUEEN _rushes to him_, _throws her arms round his neck and kisses him_, _with a transport of affection_, _and tears of filial fondness_.) My loved! My honoured kinsman! My more than father!—that with heroic greatness stood to the lone girl, through danger, death, and tyranny! (_she is overcome with emotion_). LORD WILLIAM HOWARD (_tenderly looking at her whilst he still affectionately holds her_). Thy sweet face is sad! What clouds thy queenly brow? QUEEN. At sight of thee, noble kinsman, the Tower and Woodstock, and the hostile court, rise like hideous goblins—and the base courtiers tendering their cold salutes, almost contempt. Wretches! I see them in vision, cowering at the thunder of thy step and voice. “Down on your knees to her, and kiss her hand” you shouted. Oh! the dismay of Philip and his Spaniards!—the scowl of Mary!—Alva alone was firm.—Some one muttered “Treason!—Tower!”