The courtiers, either from curiosity, or a desire to make the Queen believe that they took a great interest in the matter, would probably have pressed her further; but, at this moment, the curtain drew up, and the performance was resumed. The play proceeded without seeming to dispose the Queen to pursue her design; and, as the last scene opened, Lord Southampton began to think, from the delay, that, in the interest excited by the performance, it had escaped her memory. Just as the play was about to close, however, the Queen leaned over on the front of the box, and it became evident that she was preparing to carry her intention into effect. As she rested her arms on the barrier of the box, which divided it from the stage, her eye, seeming intent on the performance, fixed itself on that of Shakspear. The poet at once discerned that she had in view some object, and when, as if by accident, she dropped her costly handkerchief on the stage, he caught her purpose and motive directly. He did not allow them, however, to interrupt his speech, which was that that Cymbeline delivers at the close of the play; and for some moments, the part he would take in the matter was left open to conjecture. At length he set it at rest, in the opinion of the Queen, by giving utterance to that decisive sentence-- “Set we forward!” Proud of her triumph, Elizabeth was about to turn to Lord Southampton, and claim his submission, when the poet, after only a moment’s pause, resumed-- “But, Before we go, yet hold a little space, Till we pick up our sister’s handkerchief.” Thus speaking, he advanced, with a stately step, towards the royal box, and, bending on one knee, presented the Queen with her handkerchief. Amidst loud and earnest plaudits, which were again and again renewed, he then turned to his former place, and concluded his speech. Thus was the play closed, and another bay, of unfading verdure, strung on the poet’s brow. The Queen, though never willing to allow that her judgment was at fault, was very well pleased with this adventure, and spoke of the poet’s gallantry in terms of admiration. Before leaving the theatre, she directed Lord Southampton to bring him to court, and, at the same time, remarked, with considerable emphasis, that he might there teach manners to some of her courtiers. Still dwelling on the subject, she quitted the theatre, and repaired, under the escort of the court, to the water-side. There she took barge, and, with the turn of the tide, passed down the river to Greenwich.