“By my father’s hand, no!” answered Elizabeth. “No! no! Thou shalt be punished, deserter, to the very stretch of my prerogative. Henceforth thou shalt forfeit thy liberty altogether. To prove that I speak earnestly, I now charge thee, first, to attend me to the Globe playhouse; thence to Greenwich; afterwards--” “Oh, thanks! thanks, my gracious Queen!” cried Sir Walter. “By my faith, the knave takes his sentence as a great boon!” exclaimed the Queen, with a look of gratification. “I would be sworn, now, instead of putting on him a heavy punishment, I have even dealt him a guerdon.” “Indeed, my liege,” cried one of the ladies, “I have heard him say, more times than one, that he could not live out of your Highness’s presence.” “I have heard him swear to ’t,” cried another lady. “And, what your Highness will regard more,” said the Earl of Sussex, “I believe he swore true.” “A word from my Lord Sussex makes up the game,” observed the Earl of Leicester. “My Lord Leicester,” began Sussex, haughtily-- “Hold!” cried the Queen. “Dare any to bandy words here? Soft answers, an’ you please, my Lords! As for thee, knight,” she added, in her former bantering tone, to Sir Walter, “thou mayst now rise, but thy sentence must have full force. Now for the playhouse, my lords! the playhouse!” With a murmur of “Room for the Queen! room for her Highness!” the courtiers swept back on either side; and Elizabeth, leaning on the arm of the Earl of Leicester, and followed by her ladies, passed down the saloon between them. As she proceeded, her eye glanced wistfully round, and seemed, in the course of its survey, to take note of every face. Thus progressing to the door, she came opposite to the Earl of Essex, whom the crafty Cecil, not doubting that he would catch her eye, and divert her attention from Leicester, whom he hated, had pushed into the front. “Aha!” cried Elizabeth, suddenly pausing, “here is this fair youth grown into a man, and we have hardly marked him. By my troth, a proper man, too--a marvellous proper man!” “What an exceeding sweet face!” whispered one of the ladies of the bedchamber, loud enough to be heard by all. “The eye of Mars!” observed another, in the same tone. “Hush, for shame!” resumed Elizabeth. “Do ye not see,” she added, as her eye fell on a light gold chain, of the most chaste and delicate workmanship, which was turned into the Earl’s vest, “he hath lost his heart, and hath his lady’s image guarding it? By my troth, I will know who this fair one is!” “Your pardon, my liege,” replied Essex, with some confusion.