_Qu. Eliz._ Her words betray a warm, unusual, fervour; Mere friendship never could inspire this transport. [_Aside._ I never doubted but the earl was brave; His life and valiant actions all declare it: I think him honest too, but rash and headstrong. I gladly would preserve him from his foes, And therefore am resolved once more to see him. _Rut._ Oh, 'tis a godlike thought, and Heav'n itself Inspires it. Sure some angel moves your heart, Your royal heart, to pity and forgiveness. This gracious deed shall shine in future story, And deck your annals with the brightest virtue; Posterity shall praise the princely act, And ages yet to come record your goodness. _Qu. Eliz._ I'll hear no more--Must I then learn from you To know my province, and be taught to move, As each designing mind directs?--Leave me. _Rut._ Her frowns are dreadful, and her eye looks terror. I tremble for my Essex. Save him, Heav'n! [_Exit._ _Qu. Eliz._ Her warmth has touch'd me home. My jealous heart, My fearful and suspicious soul's alarm'd. _Enter BURLEIGH, RALEIGH, and GENTLEMEN._ _Bur._ The Earl of Essex waits your royal will. _Qu. Eliz._ Let him approach--And now once more support Thy dignity, my soul; nor yield thy greatness To strong usurping passion--But he comes. _Enter ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON._ _Essex._ Permitted thus to bend, with prostrate heart, [_Kneels._ Before your sacred majesty; I come, With every grateful sense of royal favour Deeply engraved within my conscious soul. _Qu. Eliz._ I sent my orders for your staff of office. _Essex._ Madam, my envy'd dignities and honours, I first from your own royal hand received, And therefore justly held it far beneath me To yield my trophies, and exalted power, So dearly purchased in the field of glory, To hands unworthy. No, my gracious queen, I meant to lay them at your royal feet; Where life itself a willing victim falls, If you command. _Qu. Eliz._ High swelling words, my lord, but ill supply The place of deeds, and duty's just demand. In danger's onset, and the day of trial, Conviction still on acting worth attends; Whilst mere professions are by doubts encumber'd. _Essex._ My deeds have oft declared in danger's front How far my duty and my valour lead me. Allegiance still my thirst of glory fired, And all my bravely gather'd, envy'd laurels Were purchased only to adorn my queen: _Qu. Eliz._ Your guilty scorn of my entrusted power, When with my mortal foes you tamely dally'd, By hardy rebels braved, you poorly sought A servile pause, and begg'd a shameful truce. Should Essex thus, so meanly compromise, And lose the harvest of a plenteous glory, In idle treaties, and suspicious parley?