The Earl of Essex Part 8

Oh, beg, entreat, implore her majesty, From public shame, and ignominious death, And from the obdurate axe, to save my friend.

_Not._ My lord, with all the powers that nature gave And friendship can inspire, I'll urge the queen To grant you your request.

_Ess.e.x._ Kind Nottingham!

Your pious offices shall ever be My fervent theme; and if my doubtful span Relenting Heaven should stretch to years remote, Each pa.s.sing hour shall still remind my thoughts, And tell me, that I owe my all to thee: My friend shall thank you too for lengthen'd life.

And now I fly with comfort to his arms, To let him know the mercy that you bring. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_The Court._

_Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and BURLEIGH._

_Qu. Eliz._ Ha! is not Nottingham return'd?

_Bur._ No, madam.

_Qu. Eliz._ Dispatch a speedy messenger to haste her.-- My agitated heart can find no rest.

So near the brink of fate---unhappy man!

_Enter LADY NOTTINGHAM._

How now, my Nottingham--what news from Ess.e.x?

What says the earl?

_Not._ I wish, with all my soul, The ungrateful task had been another's lot.

I dread to tell it--lost, ill-fated man!

_Qu. Eliz._ What means this mystery, this strange behaviour?

p.r.o.nounce--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 circ.u.mstance--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 Ess.e.x 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 ESs.e.x and SOUTHAMPTON._

_Ess.e.x._ 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.

_South._ In life's first spring, Our green affections grew apace and prosper'd; The genial summer swell'd our joyful hearts, To meet and mix each growing fruitful wish.

We're now embark'd upon that stormy flood, Where all the wise and brave are gone before us, E'er since the birth of time, to meet eternity.

And what is death, did we consider right?

Shall we, who sought him in the paths of terror, And faced him in the dreadful walks of war, Shall we astonish'd shrink, like frighted infants, And start at scaffolds, and their gloomy trappings?

_Ess.e.x._ Yet, still I trust long years remain of friendship.

Let smiling hope drive doubt and fear away, And death be banish'd far; where creeping age, Disease, and care, invite him to their dwelling.

I feel a.s.surance rise within my breast, That all will yet be well.

_South._ Count not on hope-- We never can take leave, my friend, of life, On n.o.bler terms. Life! what is life? A shadow!

Its date is but the immediate breath we draw; Nor have we surety for a second gale; Ten thousand accidents in ambush lie For the embody'd dream.

A frail and fickle tenement it is, Which, like the brittle gla.s.s that measures time, Is often broke, ere half its sands are run.

_Ess.e.x._ Such cold philosophy the heart disdains, And friendship shudders at the moral tale.

My friend, the fearful precipice is past, And danger dare not meet us more. Fly swift, Ye better angels, waft the welcome tidings Of pardon to my friend--of life and joy!

_Enter LIEUTENANT._

_Lieut._ I grieve to be the messenger of woe, But must, my lords, entreat you to prepare For instant death. Here is the royal mandate, That orders your immediate execution.

_Ess.e.x._ Immediate execution! what, so sudden?-- No message from the queen, or Nottingham!

_Lieut._ None, sir.

_Ess.e.x._ Deluded hopes! Oh, worse than death!

Perfidious queen! to make a mock of life!