_Qu. Eliz._ What means this mystery, this strange behaviour? Pronounce--declare at once; what said the earl? _Not._ Alas, my queen! I fear to say; his mind Is in the strangest mood that ever pride On blackest thoughts begot.----He scarce would speak; And when he did, it was with sullenness, With hasty tone, and downcast look. _Qu. Eliz._ Amazing! Not feel the terrors of approaching death! Nor yet the joyful dawn of promised life! _Not._ He rather seem'd insensible to both, And with a cold indifference heard your offer; Till warming up, by slow degrees, resentment Began to swell his restless haughty mind; And proud disdain provoked him to exclaim Aloud, against the partial power of fortune, And faction's rage. I begg'd him to consider His sad condition; nor repulse, with scorn, The only hand that could preserve him. _Qu. Eliz._ Ha! What!--Said he nothing of a private import? No circumstance--no pledge--no ring? _Not._ None, madam! But, with contemptuous front, disclaim'd at once Your proffer'd grace; and scorn'd, he said, a life Upon such terms bestow'd. _Qu. Eliz._ Impossible! Could Essex treat me thus?--You basely wrong him, And wrest his meaning from the purposed point. Recall betimes the horrid words you've utter'd: Confess, and own the whole you've said was false. _Not._ Madam, by truth, and duty, both compell'd, Against the pleadings of my pitying soul, I must declare (Heaven knows with what reluctance), That never pride insulted mercy more. He ran o'er all the dangers he had past; His mighty deeds; his service to the state; Accused your majesty of partial leaning To favourite lords, to whom he falls a sacrifice; Appeals to justice, and to future times, How much he feels from proud oppression's arm: Nay, something too he darkly hinted at, Of jealous disappointment, and revenge. _Qu. Eliz._ Eternal silence seal thy venom'd lips What hast thou utter'd, wretch, to rouse at once A whirlwind in my soul, which roots up pity, And destroys my peace! Let him this instant to the block be led. [_Exit NOTTINGHAM._ Upbraid me with my fatal fondness for him! Ungrateful, barbarous ruffian! O, Elizabeth! Remember now thy long-establish'd fame, Thy envy'd glory, and thy father's spirit. Accuse me of injustice too, and cruelty!-- Yes, I'll this instant to the Tower, forget My regal state, and to his face confront him: Confound the audacious villain with my presence, And add new terrors to the uplifted axe. [_Exit._ SCENE III. _The Tower._ _Enter ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON._ _Essex._ Oh, name it not! my friend shall live--he shall! I know her royal mercy, and her goodness, Will give you back to life, to length of days, And me to honour, loyalty, and truth. Death is still distant far.