The story of “Amy Robsart,” as here presented, is almost literally true to fact, although Scott has introduced dramatic incidents not found in the history. In the introduction Scott quotes at length the foundation of the story, as given in Ashmole’s “Antiquities of Berkshire:” “Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, a very goodly personage, and singularly well featured, being a great favorite to Queen Elizabeth, it was thought and commonly reported, that had he been a bachelor or widower, the queen would have made him her husband; to this end to free himself of all obstacles, he commands his wife to repose herself at Anthony Foster’s house; and also prescribed to Sir Richard Varney, that he should first attempt to poison her, and if that did not take effect, then by any other way whatsoever to despatch her. The same accusation has been adopted and circulated by the author of Leicester’s Commonwealth, and alluded to in the Yorkshire Tragedy.” Scott also quotes an old ballad, written by Mickle, called “Cumnor Hall,” in which the fair Amy bewails her fate: The dew of summer night did fall; The moon, sweet regent of the sky, Silver’d the walls of Cumnor Hall, And many an oak that grew thereby. Now naught was heard beneath the skies, The sounds of busy life were still, Save an unhappy lady’s sighs, That issued from that lonely pile. “Leicester,” she cried, “is this thy love That thou so oft hast sworn to me, To leave me in this lonely grove, Immured in shameful privity?” The village maidens of the plain Salute me lowly as they go; Envious they mark my silken train, Nor think a Countess can have woe. The simple nymphs! they little know How far more happy’s their estate; To smile for joy than sigh for woe— To be content than to be great.