_Enter LADY RUTLAND._ _Rut._ Oh, let me fly, To clasp, embrace, the lord of my desires, My soul's delight, my utmost joy, my husband! Once more I hold him in my eager arms, Behold his face, and lose my soul in rapture! _Essex._ Transporting bliss! my richest, dearest treasure! My mourning turtle, my long-absent peace, Oh, come yet nearer, nearer to my heart! My raptured soul springs forward, to receive thee: Thou heaven on earth, thou balm of all my woe! _Rut._ Oh, shall I credit, then, each ravish'd sense? Has pitying Heaven consented to my prayer? It has, it has; my Essex is return'd! But language poorly speaks the joys I feel; Let passion paint, and looks express my soul. _Essex._ With thee, my sweetest comfort, I'll retire From splendid palaces, and glitt'ring throngs, To live embosom'd in the shades of joy, Where sweet content extends her friendly arms, And gives increasing love a lasting welcome. With thee, I'll timely fly from proud oppression. Forget our sorrows, and be bless'd for ever. _Rut._ Oh! let us hence, beyond the reach of power, Where fortune's hand shall never part us more! In this calm state of innocence and joy, I'll press thee to my throbbing bosom close. Ambition's voice shall call in vain; the world, The thankless world, shall never claim thee more, And all thy business shall be love and me. _Essex._ The queen, incensed at my return, abandons me To Cecil's malice, and the rage of faction. I'm now no more the fav'rite child of fortune: My enemies have caught me in the toil, And life has nothing worth my wish but thee. _Rut._ Delusive dream of fancied happiness! And has my fatal fondness then destroy'd thee? Oh, have I lured thee to the deadly snare Thy cruel foes have laid? I dreaded Cecil's malice, and my heart, Longing to see thee, with impatience listen'd To its own alarms; and prudence sunk beneath The force of love. _Essex._ Forbear, my only comfort; Oh, tell me not of danger, death, and Burleigh; Let every star shed down its mortal bane On my unshelter'd head: whilst thus I fold Thee in my raptured arms, I'll brave them all, Defy my fate, and meet its utmost rigour. _Rut._ Alas, my lord! consider where we are. Oh, 'tis the queen's apartment; Each precious moment is by fate beset, And time stands trembling whilst we thus confer. _Essex._ Then, let us hence from this detested place; My rescued soul disdains the house of greatness, Where humble honesty can find no shelter. From hence we'll fly, where love and greatness call; Where happiness invites--that wish of all: With sweet content enjoy each blissful hour, Beyond the smiles of fraud, or frowns of power. [_Exeunt._ ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. _An Apartment in the Palace._ _Enter BURLEIGH and LADY NOTTINGHAM._ _Not._ My lord, I've sought you out with much impatience. You've had an audience of the queen: what follow'd?