THE Unhappy Favourite OR THE Earl of ESSEX. A TRAGEDY.  
Acted at the Theatre Royal By their Majesty's Servants.  
Written by john Banks.  
— qui nimios optabat Honours,  
Et nimias poscebat Opes, numerosa parabat  
Excelsae turris tabulata, unde altior esset  
Casus & impulsae praeceps immane Ruin.  Juven. Sat. 10. 
LONDON, Printed for Richard Bentley and Mary Magnes in Russel-street near the Piazza in Covent-Garden, 1682.   

To the Most High, and Most Illustrious PRINCESS The LADY AND, Daughter to His Royal Highness.  
MADAM,  
I Humbly lay before your Highness' Feet an Unhappy Favourite, but 'tis in Your Power to make him no longer so; Not his Queen's Repentance, nor her Tears could Rescue him from the Malice of his Enemies, nor from the violence of a most unfortunate Death; but your Highness with this unspeakable Favour, and so Divine a Condescension in Protecting this once pitied Hero, will make him live Eternally; and those who could scarce behold him on the Stage without weeping, when they shall see him thus exalted, will all turn envious of his Fortune, which they can never think deplorable while he is graced by your Highness. For my own part, I tremble to express my Thanks in so mean Language, but much more when I would pay my Tribute of just Praises to your Highness; 'tis not to be attempted by any Pen, Heaven has done it to a Miracle in Your own Person, where are Written so many admirable Characters, such Illustrious Beauties on a Body so Divinely framed, that there is none so dull and ignorant, that cannot read 'em plainly; And when You vouchsafe to cast your Eyes on those beneath You, they speak their own Excellencies with greater Art and Eloquence, and attract more Admiration than ever Virgil did in his Divinest Flight of Fancy, than Ovid in speaking of his Princess, or Appelles in drawing of his Venus; Nor are Your Virtues, or Your Royal Blood less admirable, sprung from the Inestimable Fountain of so many Illustrious Plantagenets, that I stand amazed at the Mightyness of the Subject which I have chosen; besides the awful Genius of your Highness bids me beware how I come too near, lest I Profane so many Incomparable Perfections in so Sacred a Shrine as your Highness' Person, where You ought to be adored, and not seen: For, like the Ancient Jews in their Religious Worship, 'tis a Favour for me to remain on the outward steps, and not approach nigh the Veil where the Crowd never come: This, Most Illustrious Princess, aught to check my Hand, least in attempting your Highness' Character, my Apprehension of the Excellence of the Subject, and the Danger of miscarrying, should make my Fancy sink beneath so Glorious a Burden; Therefore I will forbear troubling your Highness any further with the Rashness of my Zeal; nor dare I be dictated any longer by it, but will Conclude, in hopes that, when hereafter I may chance to Record the Memory of a Princess, whose Beauty, Fortune and Merits are greater than Homer ever feigned, or Tasso Copied, I may have leave to draw her Pattern from your Highness, and when that is done, the rest of my Life shall be employed in Prayers for your Eternal Happiness, which be pleased to Interpret as the Duty of,  
MADAM, Your Highness's Most Obedient, Most humble, and Most Devoted Servant, john Banks.   


PERSONS REPRESENTED.  
The Earl of Essex. Mr. Clerk.  
Earl of Southampton. Mr. Gryffin.  
Burleigh. Major Mohun.  
Sir Walter Raleigh. Mr. Disney.  
Lieutenant of the Tower.  
Queen Elizabeth. Mrs. Quyn.  
Countess of Rutland Secretly Married to the Earl of Essex. Mrs. Cook.  
Countess of Nottingham. Mrs. Corbett.  
Women.  
Gentlemen, Guards and Attendants.   SCENE WHITEHALL AND THE TOWER.  

PROLOGUE, Spoken by Major Mohun, the First Four Days.  
THE Merchant, joyful with the Hopes of Gain,  
Ventures his Life and Fortunes on the Main;  
But the poor Poet oftener does Expose  
More than his Life, his Credit, for Applause.  
The Play's his Vessel, and his Venture, Wit:  
Hopes are his Indies, Rocks and Seas, the Pit.  
Yet our good-natured Author bids me Swear  
He'll Court you still, the more his Fate draws near;  
And cannot choose but blame their Feeble Rage  
That Crow at you, upon their Dunghill Stage;  
A certain sign they merit to be Cursed,  
When, to excuse their faults, they cry Whore first.  
So oft in their dull Prologues, 'tis expressed,  
That Critic now's become no more a jest;  
Methinks self-intrest in 'em more should Rule;  
There's none so impudent to ask a Dole,  
And then to call his Benefactor Fool?  
They Merit to be Damned as well as Poor,  
For who that's in a Storm, and hears it roar,  
But than would Pray, that never prayed before?  
Yet Seas are calm some times; and You, like those,  
Are necessary Friends, but Cursed Foes:  
But if amongst you all he has no Friend,  
He humbly begs that you would be so kind,  
Lay Malice by, and use him as you find.   

PROLOGUE, Spoken to the King and Queen at their coming to the House, and Written on purpose By Mr. DRYDEN.  
WHEN first the Ark was Landed on the Shore,  
And Heaven had vowed to curse the Ground no more,  
When Tops of Hills the Longing Patriarch saw,  
And the new Scene of Earth began to draw;  
The Dove was sent to View the Waves Decrease,  
And first brought back to Man the Pledge of Peace:  
'Tis needless to apply when those appear  
Who bring the Olive, and who Plant it here.  
We have before our eyes the Royal Dove,  
Still Innnocence is Harbinger to Love,  
The Ark is opened to dismiss the Train,  
And People with a better Race the Plain.  
Tell me you Powers, why should vain Man pursue,  
With endless Toil, each object that is new,  
And for the seeming substance leave the true—  
Why should be quit for hopes his certain good,  
And loathe the Manna of his daily food?  
Must England still the Scene of Changes be,  
Tost and Tempestuous like our Ambient Sea?  
Must still our Wether and our Wills agree?  
Without our Blood our Liberties we have,  
Who that is Free would Fight to be a Slave?  
Or what can Wars to after Times Assure,  
Of which our Present Age is not secure?  
All that our Monarch would for us Ordain,  
Is but t'enjoy the Blessings of his Reign.  
Our Land's an Eden, and the Main's our Fence,  
While we Preserve our State of Innocence;  
That lost, than Beasts their Brutal Force employ,  
And first their Lord, and then themselves destroy:  
What Civil Broils have cost we knew too well,  
Oh let it be enough that once we fell,  
And every Heart conspire with every Tongue,  
Still to have such a King, and this King Long.   

THE Unhappy Favourite. OR THE EARL of ESSEX.  

Actus Primus, Scaena Prima  Countess of Nottingham, Burleigh at several Doors. The Countess Reading a Letter. Not. 
HELP me to rail Prodigious minded Burleigh,  
Prince of bold English Councils, teach me how  
This hateful Breast of mine may Dart forth words,  
Keen as thy Wit, Malicious as thy Person;  
Then I'll Caress thee, stroke thee into shape.  
This Rockey dismal Form of thine that holds  
The most Seraphic Mind, that ever was;  
I'll heal and Mould thee, with a soft Embrace;  
Thy Mountain Back shall yield beneath these Arms,  
And thy pale withered Cheeks that never glow,  
Shall then be decked with Roses of my own—  
Invent some new strange Curse that's far above  
Weak Woman's Rage to Blast the Man I Love.  Burl. 
What means the fairest of the Court, say what  
More cruel Darts are forming in those Eyes  
To make Adoring Cecil more unhappy?  
If such a Wretched, and declared hard Fate  
Attends the Man you Love, what then Bright Star  
H'as your Malignant Beauty yet in Store  
For him that is the Object of your Scorn?  
Tell me that most unhappy, happy Man,  
Declare who is this most ungrateful Lover?  
And to obey my lovely Nottingham  
I will prefer this dear Cabal, and her  
To all the other Councils in the world;  
Nay tho' the Queen, and her two Nations called,  
And sinking England stood this hour in need  
For this supporting Head, they all should sue,  
Or Perish all for one kind look from you.  Not. 
There spoke the Genius, and the Breath of England.  
Thou Esculapius of the Christian World!  
Methinks the Queen, in all her Majesty,  
Hemmed with a Pomp of Rusty Swords, and duller Brains,  
When thou art absent, is a Naked Monarch,  
And fills an idle Throne till Cecil comes  
To head her Councils, and inspire her Generals—  
Thy uncooth self that seems a Scourge to Nature  
For so maliciously deforming thee,  
Is by the Heavenly Powers stamped with a Soul  
That like the Sun breaks through dark Mists, when none  
Beholds the Cloud, but Wonders at the Light.  Burl. 
O spare that Angel's Voice till the last Day,  
Such Heavenly Praise is lost on such a Subject.  Not. 
Let none presume to say while Burleigh Lives  
A Woman wears the Crown; Fourth Richard rather,  
Heir to the Third in Magnanimity,  
In Person, Courage, Wit, and Bravery all,  
But to his Vices none, nor to his End  
I hope.  Burl. 
You Torture me with this Excess—  
Were but my Flesh Cast in a purer Mould,  
Than you might see me Blush, but my hot Blood  
Burnt with continual thought, does inward Glow;  
Thought like the Sun still goes its daily Round,  
And Scorches, as in India to the Root.—  
But to the Wretched Cause of your disturbance;  
Say, shall I guests? Is Essex not the Man?  Not. 
O! Name not Essex, Hell, and Tortures rather,  
Poisons, and Vultures to the Breast of Man  
Are not so Cruel as the Name of Essex—  
Speak good my Lord; nay, never speak nor think  
Again, unless you can assuage this worse  
Than Fury in my Breast.  Burl. 
Tell me the Cause;  
Then Cease your Rage, and Study to Revenge.  Not. 
My Rage! It is the Wing by which I'll Fly  
To be Revenged— I'll ne'er be Patient more.  
Lift me my Rage, nay, Mount me to the Stars,  
Where I may Hunt this Peacock though he lies  
Close in the Lap of juno— Elizabeth,  
Tho' the Queen Circles him with Charms of Power,  
And hides her Minion like another Circe.  Burl. 
Still well instructed Rage, but pray disclose  
The Reason of the Earls Misfortune.  Not. 
You are,  
My Friend the Cabinet of all my Frailties;  
From you, as from Just Heaven, I hope for Absolution;  
Yet pray, tho' Anger makes me Red, when I  
Discourse the Reason of my Rage, be kind,  
And say it is my Sexe's Modesty.  
Know then,  
This Base Imperious Man I Loved, Loved so,  
Till Linger with the Pain of Fierce desire,  
And Shame that strove to Torture me alike,  
At last I passed the Limits of our Sex,  
And (O Kind Cecil pity and Forgive me)  
Sent this opprobrious Man my Mind a Slave;  
In a kind Letter Broke the silence of  
My Love, which rather should have Broke my Heart.  Burl. 
But pray, what Answer did you get from him?  Not. 
Such as has made an Earthquake in my Soul,  
Shook every Vital in these tender Limbs,  
And raised me to the Storm you found me in.  
At first he Charmed me with a Thousand Hopes,  
Else 'twas my Love thought all his Actions so—  
Just now from Ireland I received this Letter,  
Which take and Read but now I think, you shall not—  
I'll tear it in a thousand pieces first,  
Tear it as I would Essex with my Will,  
To Bits, to Morsels Hack the mangled Slave,  
Till every Atom of his Cursed Body  [Tears the Letter in a Rage. 
Severed, and Flew like Dust before the Wind.  
Now do I Bless the Chance, all else may blame  
Me for; Revealing of my Foolish Passion—  
Did I ere think these celebrated Charms  
Which I so often have been Blessed, and Praised for  
Should once be destined to so mean a Price  
As a Refusal!— Are there Friends above  
That Protect Innocence, and injured Love?  
Hear me, and Curse me, straight with Wrinkled Age,  
With Leprosy, Derision, all your Plagues  
On Earth, and Hell hereafter, if I'm not Revenged.  Burl. 
Else say she is no Woman, or no Widow.—  [Aside. 
The Sacred Guardians of your slighted Beauties,  
Have had more Pity on their lovely Charge,  
Then to behold you swallowed in his Ruin.  
The best, and worst that Fortune could propose,  
To you in Essex Love, was to have brought,  
A helpless, short-lived Traitor to your Arms.  Not. 
Ha! Traitor say you! Speak that Word again—  
Yet do not; 'tis enough if Burleigh says it:  
His Wit has Power to Damn the Man that thinks it,  
And t'extract Treason from infected Thought.  
The Nation's safety like a Ship he Steers,  
When Tempests Blow, raised by designs of false,  
And Ignorant Statesmen; by his Wit alone  
They're all Dispersed, and by his Breath she Sails,  
His Prosperous Councils all her gentle Gales.  Enter a Gentleman. Gent. 
My Lord, the Queen expects you straight.  Burl. 
Madam,  
Be Pleased to Attend her Majesty i'th' Presence,  
Where you shall hear such Misdemeanours offered,  
Such Articles against the Earl of Essex,  
As will both glad the Nation, and yourself.  Gent. 
My Lord, I see the haughty Earl of Southampton  
Coming this way.  Burl. 
Madam, retire.  Not. 
I go  
With greater expectation of delight  
Than a young Bridegroom on his Marriage Night.  [Exit Countess of Notting. Burl. 
Southampton! he's the chief of Essex Faction,  
His Friend, and Sworn Brother; and I fear  
Too much a Friend, and Partner of his Revels  
To be a Stranger to the others Guilt—  
'Tis not yet time to lop this haughty Bough,  
Till I have shaken first the Tree that bears it.  Enter Southampton. Sonth. 
My Lord, I hear unwelcome News; 'tis said  
Some Factious Members of the House, Headed  
By you, have voted an Address for leave  
T'impeach the Earl of Essex of strange Articles,  
Of Treason.  Burl. 
Treason, 'tis most true is laid  
To Essex Charge, but that I am the Cause  
They do me wrong, th' Occasion is too public:  
For those dread Storms in Ireland raised by him,  
Have Blown so rudely on our English Coasts,  
That they have Shipwrecked quite the Nations Peace,  
And waked its very Statues to abhorring.  South. 
Mere Argument, your nice, and fine distinctions  
To make a good Man Vicious, or a bad  
Man Virtuous, even as please the Sophisters—  
My Lord, you are engendering Snakes within you,  
I fear you have a subtle stinging Heart;  
And give me leave to tell you, that this Treason,  
If any, has been hatched in Burleighs School.  
I see Ambition in the fair Pretence,  
Burleigh in all it's Cunning, dark Disguises,  
And envious Cecil every where.  Burl. 
My Lord, my Lord, your Zeal to this bad Earl  
Makes you offend the Queen, and all good men.  
Believe it Sir, his Crimes have been so noted,  
So plain, and open to the State, and her,  
That he can now no more deceive the Eyes  
Of a most Gracious Mistress, or her Council;  
Nor can she any longer, if she would,  
In pity of his other parts let Justice wink,  
But rouse herself from Cheated slumbering Mercy,  
And start at his most foul Ingratitude.  
Nor, does it well become the brave Southampton  
To Plead in his behalf; for fear it pulls  
Upon himself, suspicion of his Crimes.  Sou. 
Hold in my Fire, and scorch not through my Ribs,  
Quench, if thou canst, the Burning Furious Pain—  
I cannot if I would, but must unload  
Some of the Torture— Now by my Wronged self,  
And Essex, much more Wronged, I Swear 'tis false,  
False, as the Rules by which Vile Statesmen Govern,  
False as their Arts, by which the Traitors Rise,  
By Cheating Nations, and Destroying Kings,  
And false Imposing on the Common Crew.  
Essex! By all the Hopes of my Immortal Soul,  
There's not one drop of Blood, of that brave Man  
But holds more Honour, Truth and Loyalty  
Than thy whole Mass besides, and all thy Brains  
Stuffed with Cabals, and Projects for the Nation;  
Than thou that seem'st a good St. Christopher  
Carrying thy Country's Genius on thy Back,  
But, art indeed a Devil, and takest more Hire  
Than half the Kingdom's Wealth can satisfy.  
I say again, that thou, and all thy Race  
With Essex base Accusers, every one  
Put in a Scale together, Weigh not half  
The merit that's in one poor Hair of his.  Burl. 
Thank you, my Lord— see I can bear the scandal,  
And cannot choose but smile, to see you Rage.  South. 
It is, because thy Guilty Soul's a Coward,  
And has not Spirit enough to Feign a Passion.  Burl. 
It is the Token of my Innocence.—  
But let Southampton have a special Care  
To keep his close Designs from Cecils way,  
Lest he disturb the Genius of the Nation  
As you were pleased to call me; and beware  
The Fate of Essex.  [Exit Burleigh. South. 
Ha! The Fate of Essex!  
Thou liest Proud Statesman, 'tis above thy reach;  
As high above thy malice as is Heaven  
Beyond a Cecils Hopes— Despair not Essex,  
Nor his brave Friends, since a Just Queen's his Judge;  
She that saw once such Wonders in thy Person,  
A scarce fledged Youth, as Loading thee with Honours,  
At once made thee earl-marshal, Knight o'th' Garter,  
Chief Councillor, and Admiral at Sea—  
She comes, she comes bright Goddess of the Day,  
And Essex's Foes she drives like Mists away.  Enter the Queen, Burleigh, Lord Chancellor, Countess of Nottingham, Countess of Rutland, Lords and Attendants, Queen on a Chair of State, Guards. Queen. 
My Lords, we hear not any thing Confirms  
The New designs were dreaded of the Spaniards:  
Our Letters lately from our Agent there  
Say nothing of such Fears, nor do I think  
They dare.  Burl. 
To dare, most high Illustrious Princess,  
Is such a Virtue Spaniard never knew,  
His Courage is as Cold as he is Hot,  
And Faith is as Adulterate as his Blood.  
What truth can we expect from such a Race  
Of Mongrels, Jews, mahometans, Goths, Moors,  
And Indians with a few of Old Castilians,  
Shuffled in Nature's mould together?  
That Spain may truly now be called the Place  
Where Babel first was Built. These men  
With all false Tenets chopped and mashed together,  
Sucked from the Scum of every base Religion,  
Which they have since Transformed to Romish Mass,  
Are now become the Mitres darling Sons,  
And Spain is called the Pope's most Catholic King.  Queen. 
Spoke like true Cecil still, old Protestant—  
But, Oh! It Joys me with the dear Remembrance  
Of this Romantic huge Invasion.  
From the Pope's Closlet where 'twas first Begot,  
Bulls, Absolutions, Pardons, frightful Banns  
Flew o'er the Continent, and Narrow Seas,  
Some to Reward, and others to Torment,  
Nay, worse, the Inquisition was let loose  
To Teach the very Atheists Purgatory.  
Then were a Thousand Holy Hands employed,  
As Cardinals, bishops', Abbots, Monks, and Jesuits,  
Not a poor Mendicant, or Begging Friar  
But thought he should be Damned to leave the Work;  South. 
Whole Shoals of Benedictions were dispersed;  
Nay, the good Pope himself so wearied was  
With giving Blessings to these holy Warriors,  
That Flew to him, from every Part as thick  
As Hornets to their Nest, It gave his Arms  
The Gout.  Burl. 
O Faithless, incouragious Hands!  
They should have both been Burnt for Heretics.  Queen. 
But when this huge, and mighty Fleet was ready,  
Altars were stripped of shining Ornaments.  
Their Images, their Pictures, Palls, and Hangings  
By Nuns, and Persians, wrought,  
All went to help their great Armado forth;  
Relics of all degrees of Saints  
Were there Distributed, and not a Ship  
Was Blessed without one; every Sail amongst'em  
Boasted to carry, as a certain Pledge  
Of Victory, some of the real Cross.  South. 
Long live that Day, and never be forgotten  
The gallant hour, when to th'immortal Fame  
Of England, and the more immortal Drake,  
That Proud Armado was Destroyed; yet was  
The Fight not half so dreadful as th' Event  
Was pleasant. When the first Broad Sides were given,  
A tall brave Ship, the tallest of the Rest,  
That seemed the Pride of all their big Halfmoon,  
Whether by Chance, or by a luckey Shot  
From us, I know not, but she was Blown up,  
Bursting like Thunder, and almost as high,  
And then did Shiver in a Thousand Pieces,  
Whilst from her Belly Crowds of Living Creatures  
Broke like untimely Births, and filled the Sky:  
Then might be seen a Spaniard catch his Fellow,  
And Wrestling in the Air fall down together;  
A Priest for safety Riding on a Cross,  
Another that had none, crossing himself;  
Friars with long big sleeves like Magpyes Wings  
That bore them up, came gently Sailing down:  
One with a Don that held him by the Arms,  
And Cried, Confess me straight; but as he just  
Had spoke the Words, they Tumbled down together.  Burl. 
Just Heaven that never ceased to have a Care  
Of your most Gracious Majesty, and Kingdoms,  
By valiant Soldiers, and by faithful Leaders,  
Confounded in one day the vast designs  
Of Italy, and Spain against our Liberties;  
So may Tyrone, and Irish Rebels fall,  
And so may all your Captains henceforth prove  
To be as Loyal, and as stout Commanders.  Queen. 
Is there no fresher News from Ireland yet?  Burl. 
None better than the last, that seems too ill  
To be repeated in your Gracious hearing.  Queen. 
Why, what was that?  South. 
Now, now the Subtle Fiend  
Begins to Conjure up a Storm.  [Aside. Burl. 
How soon your Gracious Majesty forgets  
Crimes done by any of your Subjects!  Queen. 
What?  
That Essex did defer his Journey to  
The North, and therefore lost the Season quite;  
Was not that all?  Burl. 
And that he met Tyrone  
At his Request, and treated with him Private.  
A Ford dividing them, they both Rode in,  
Wading their Horse's knee deep on each side;  
But that the Distance from each other was  
So great, and they were forced to parley loud,  
Orders were given to keep the Soldiers off;  
Nay, not an Officer in all the Army  
But was denied to hear what passed between them—  
What followed then the Parley? was the Truce,  
So shameful, (if I may be bold to call  
It so,) both to your Majesty and England?  Queen. 
Enough, enough good Cecil, you begin  
To be Inveterate; 'twas his first Fault;  
And though that Crimes done to the Nation's hurt  
Admit of no excuse or mitigation  
From th' Author's many Virtues or Misfortunes,  
Yet you must all confess that he is brave,  
valiant as any, and 'as done as much  
For you, as e'er Alcides did for Greece.  
Yet I'll not hide his Faults, but Blame him too,  
And therefore I have sent him Chiding Letters,  
Forbidding him to leave the Kingdom till  
He has dispatched the War, and killed Tyrone.  Enter Sir Walter Raleigh, Attended by some other Members of the House. Burl. 
Most Royal Madam, here's the gallant Raleigh,  
With others in Commission from the House,  
Who ' ttend your Majesty with some few Bills  
And humblest of Addresses, that you would  
Be pleased to pass'em for the Nations safety.  Queen. 
Welcome my People, welcome to your Queen,  
Who wishes still no longer to be so  
Than she can Govern well, and serve you all;  
Welcome again, dear People; for I'm Proud  
To call you so, and let it not be Boasting  
In me, to say, I Love you with a greater Love  
Than ever Kings before showered down on Subjects,  
And that I think ne'er did a People more  
Deserve, than you. Be quick,  
And tell me your Demands; I long to hear:  
For know, I count your wants are all my own.  Raw. 
Long live the bright Imperial Majesty.  
Of England, Virgin Star of Christendom,  
Blessing, and Guide of all your Subjects Lives,  
Who wish the Sun may sooner be extinguished  
From the bright Orb he Rules in, than their Queen  
Should e'er descend the Throne she now makes happy.  
Your Parliament, most Blessed of Sovereigns,  
Calling to mind the Providence of Heaven  
In Guarding still your People under you,  
And sparing your most precious Life,  
Do humbly offer to your Royal pleasure  
Three Bills to be made living Acts hereafter,  
All for the safety of your Crown and Life,  
More precious than ten thousand of your Slaves.  Quee. 
Let Cecil take, and read what they contain.  Burl. 
An Act for settling, and establishing  [Cecil takes the Papers and reads the Contents. 
A strong Militia out of every County,  
And likewise for levying a new Army  
Consisting of six thousand Foot at least,  
And Horse three thousand, quickly to be ready,  
As a strong Guard for the Queen's Sacred Person,  
And to prevent what clandestine designs  
The Spaniards, or the Scots may have.  Quee. 
Thanks to  
My Dear, and loving People, I will pass it.  Burl. 
This second Act is for the speedy raising  
Two Hundred Thousand Pounds to pay the Army,  
And to be ordered as the Queen shall please;  
This to be gathered by a Benevolence,  
And Subsidy, in six months' time from hence.  Quee. 
What mean my giving Subjects! It shall pass.  Burl. 
The third has several Articles at large,  
With an Address Subscribed, most humbly offered  
For the Impeaching Robert Earl of Essex  
Of several Misdemeanours of High Treason.  Quee. 
Ha!  
This unthought Blast has shockt me like an Ague—  
It has alarmed every Sense, and spoiled me  Aside. 
Of all the awful courage of a Queen;  
But I'll recover— Say, my Nottinham,  
And Rutland, did you ever hear the like!  
But are you well assured I am awake?  
Bless me, and say it is a Horryed Vision,  
That I am not upon the Throne—  
Ha! Is't not so?— Yes, Traitors, I'll obey you—  [She rises in a Rage. 
Here, sit you in my Place; take Burleighs Staff,  
The Chancellor's Seal, and Essex valiant Head,  
And leave me none but such as are yourselves,  
Knaves for my Counsel, Fools for Megistrates,  
And Cowards for Commanders— Oh my Heart!  South. 
O horryed imposition on a Throne!  
Essex; that has so bravely served the Nation!  
That I may boldly say, Drake did not more,  
That has so often beat its Foes on Land,  
Stood like a Promontory in its defence,  
And sailed with Dragon's Wings to Guard the Seas;  
Essex! That took as many Towns in Spain  
As all this Island holds, beggared their Fleet  
That came with Loads of half their Mines in India,  
And took a mighty Carack of such Value,  
That held more Gold in its Prodigious Deck  
Than served the Nation's Riot in a Year.  Quee. 
Ingrateful People! Take away my Life;  
'Tis that you'd have: for I have Reigned too long—  
You too well know that I'm a Woman, else  
You durst not use me thus— Had you but feared  
Your Queen as you did once my Royal Father,  
Or had I but the Spirit of that Monarch,  
With one short Syllible I should have rammed  
Your Impudent Petitions down your Throats,  
And made four hundred of your Factious Crew  
Tremble, and groule on the Earth for fear.  Raw. 
Thus prostrate at your Feet we beg for Pardon,  
And humbly Crave your Majesty's Forgiveness.  [Petitioners kneel: Quee. 
No more— Attend me in the House to morrow.  Burl. 
Most Mighty Queen! Blessed and Adored by all,  
Torment not so your Royal Breast with Passion:  
Not all of us, our Lives, Estates, and Country  
Are worth the least disturbance, of your mind.  Quee. 
Are you become a Pleader for such Traitors!  
Ha! I suspect that Cecil too is envious,  
And Essex is too great for thee to grow,—  
A Shrub that never shall be looked upon,  
Whilst Essex, that's a Cedar stands so nigh—  
Tell me, why was not I acquainted with  
This close Design: For I am sure thou know'st it.  Burl. 
Madam—  Quee. 
Be dumb; I will hear no Excuses.—  
I could turn Cynnick, and outrage the Wind,  
Fly from all Courts, from Business, and Mankind,  
Leave all like Chaos in Confusion hurled:  
For 'tis not Reason now that Rules the World:  
There's Order in all States but Man below,  
And all things else do to Superiors bow;  
Trees, Plants, and Fruits, rejoice beneath the Sun,  
Rivers, and Seas are guided by the Moon;  
The Lion Rules through Shades and every Green,  
And Fishes own the Dolphin sor their Queen;  
But Man the verier Monster, Worships still  
No God but Lust, no Monarch but his Will.  [Exeunt omnes. 
Finis Actus Primi.   

Actus Secundus, Scena prima.  Countess of Essex. C. Ess. 
IS this the Joy of a New Married Life?  
This all the taste of Pleasures that are Feigned  
To flow from sweet and Everlasting Springs?  
By what false Optics do we view those sights,  
And by our ravenous Wishes seem to draw  
Delights so far beyond a Mortals reach,  
And bring 'em home to our deluded Breasts?  
'Tis not yet long since that Blessed Day was past,  
A Day I wished that should for ever last;  
The Night once gone, I did the Morning Chide,  
Whose Beams betrayed me by my Essex side,  
And whilst my Blushes, and my Eyes he blessed,  
I strove to hide 'em in his panting Breast,  
And my hot Cheeks close to his Bosom laid,  
Listening to what the Guest within it said,  
Where Fire to Fire the Noble Heart did burn  
Close like a Phoenix in her spicey Urn:  
I sighed, and wept for Joy, a shower of Tears,  
And felt a thousand sweet, and pleasant fears,  
Too rare for Sense, too exquisite to say;  
Pain we can count, but Pleasure steals away:  
But Business now, and envious Glory's Charms  
Have snatched him from these ever Faithful Arms,  
Ambition, that's the highest way to Woe,  
Cruel Ambition, Love's Eternal Foe.  Enter Southampton. South. 
Thou dearest Partner of my dearest Friend,  
The brightest Planet of thy shining Sex,  
Forgive me for the unwelcome News I bring,—  
Essex is come, the most deplored of Men!  C. Ess. 
Now by the sacred Joy that fills my Heart,  
What fatal meaning can there be in that?  
Is my Lord come? say, speak.  South. 
Too sure he's come—  
But oh that Seas, as wide as Waters flow,  
Or burning Lakes as broad, and deep as Hell,  
Had rather parted you for ever,  
So Essex had been safe on th'other side.  C. Ess. 
My Lord, you much amaze me—  
Pray what of ill has happened since this Morning,  
That the Queen Guarded him with so much mercy,  
And then refused to hear his false Impeachers?  South. 
Too soon alas h'as forfeited his Honours,  
Places, and Wealth, but more his precious Life,  
Condemned by the too cruel Nation's Laws  
For leaving his Commission, and returning,  
When the Queen's absolute Commands forbid him.  C. Ess. 
Fond hopes! must then our meeting prove so fatal!  South. 
Say Madam, now what help will you propose,  
Can the Queen's pity any more protect him?  
Never, it is no longer in her Power,  
She must, though 'gainst her Will deliver him  
A Sacrifice to all his greedy Foes.  C. Ess. 
Where is my Lord?  South. 
Blunt left him on the Way,  
And came disguised in haste to give me notice.  C. Ess. 
Let him go back, and give my Essex warning,  
Conjuring him from us to stir no further,  
But straight return to Ireland e'er 'tis known  
He left the place.  South. 
Alas it is no secret;  
Besides, he left the Town almost as soon  
As Blunt, and is expected every moment.  C. Ess. 
How could it be revealed so suddenly?  South. 
I know not that, unless from Hell it came,  
Where Cecil too is Privy Counsellor,  
And knows as much as any Devil there.  
I met the cunning Fiend and Raleigh whispering;  
And the fair treacherous Nottingham,  
I saw bedecked with an ill-natured smile,  
That showed Malicious Beauty to the height.  C. Ess. 
Hold, hold, my Lord, my Fears begin to wrack me,  
And Danger now in all it's horryd Shapes,  
Stalks in my way, and mmakes my Blood run cold,  
Worse than a thousand Glaring Spirits could do.  
Assist me straight thou Damon to my Essex,  
Help me thou more than Friend in misery—  
I'll to the Queen, and straight declare our Marriage;  
She will have mercy on my helpless State,  
Pity these Tears, and all my humble Postures;  
If not for me, nor for my Essex sake,  
Yet for the Illustrious Offspring that I bear;  
I'll Go, I'll Run, I'll Hazard all this Moment.  [Offers to be gone. South. 
Led by vain Hopes, you fly to your Destruction;  
There wants but that dread Secret to be known,  
To tumble you for ever to Despair,  
And leave you both Condemned without the Hopes  
Of the Queen's Pity, or Remorse hereafter.  C. Ess. 
Cursed be the Stars that flattered at our Births,  
That shone so bright, with such unusual Luster,  
As Cheated the whole World into belief  
Our Lives alone were all their chiefest Care.  South. 
Be Comforted, rely on Essex Fate,  
And the Queen's Mercy—  
Behold she comes, our good or evil Fate,  
In discontented Characters wrote on  
Her Brow.  Enter the Queen, Burleigh, Countess of Nottingham, Raleigh, Attendant Guards. Queen. 
Is Essex then Arrived?  Burl. 
He is.  Queen. 
Then he has lost me all the flattering hopes  [Aside. 
I ever had to save him— Come say you!  
Who else came with him?  Burl. 
Some few Attendants.  Queen. 
Durst the most vile of Traitors serve me thus!  
Double my Strength about me, draw out Men,  
And set a Guard before the Palace Gates,  
And bid my valiant Friends the Citizens  
Be ready straight— I shall be murdered else,  
And faithful Cecil, if thou lovest thy Queen,  
See all this done: For how can I be safe  
If Essex that I Favoured seeks my Life.  Burl. 
will't please your Majesty to see the Earl?  Queen. 
No.  Burl. 
Shall I publish straight your Royal Order,  
That may forbid his coming to the Court,  
Until your Majesty Command him?  Queen. 
Neither—  
How durst you seem t'interpret what's my Pleasure!  
No, I will see him if 'a comes, and then  
Leave me to act without your saucy Aid,  
If I have any Royal Power.  C. Ess. 
Blessed be the Queen, blessed be the pitying God  
That has inspired her.  [Aside. South. 
Most admired of Queens,  
Thus low unto the ground I bend my body,  
And wish I could sink lower through the Earth,  
To suit a Posture to my humble Heart.  
I tremble to excuse my gallant Friend  
In contradiction to your Heavenly will,  
Who like a God knows all, and 'tis enough  
You think him innocent, and he is so;  
But yet your Majesty's most Royal Soul,  
That soars so high above the humble malice  
Of base and sordid Wretches under you,  
Perhaps is ignorant the valiant Earl  
Has Foes, Foes that are only so, because  
Your Majesty has crowned him with your Favours,  
And lifted him so far above their sights,  
That 'tis a pain to all their envious eyes  
To look so high above him; and of these  
Some grow too near your Royal Person,  
As the ill Angels did at first in Heaven,  
And daily seek to hurt this brave Man's Virtue.  Queen. 
Help me thou infinite Ruler of all things,  
That sees at once far as the Sun displays,  
And searches every Soul of humane kind,  
Quick, and unfelt, as Light infuses Beams,  
Unites, and makes all Contradictions centre,  
And to the sense of Man, which is more strange,  
Governs innumerable distant Parts  
By one entire same Providence at once.  
Teach me so far thy holy Art of Rule,  
As in a mortal reason may distinguish  
Betwixt bold Subjects, and a Monarchs Right,  Burl. 
May't please your Majesty, the Earl is come  
And waits your Pleasure.  Queen 
Let him be admitted—  
Now now support thy Royalty,  
And hold thy Greatness firm; but oh, how heavy  
A Load is State where the Free Mind's disturbed!  
How happy a Maid is she that always lives  
Far from high Honour, in a low Content,  
Where neither Hills, nor dreadful Mountains grow,  
But in a Vale where Springs and Pleasures flow;  
Where Sheep lie round instead of subjects' Throngs,  
The Trees for Music, Birds instead of Songs;  
Instead of Essex one poor faithful Hind,  
He as a Servant, She a Mistress kind,  
Who with Garlands for her Coming crowns her Door,  
And all with Rushes strews her little floor,  
Where at their mean Repast no Fears attend  
Of a false Enemy, or falser Friend;  
No care of Cepters, nor ambitious Frights  
Disturb the quiet of their sleep at Nights.—  
He comes; this proud Invader of my Rest,  
A comes; but I intent so to receive him—  Enter the Earl of Essex with Attenders. Essex kneels. The Queen turns to the Countess of Nottingham. Essex. 
Long live the mightiest, most adored of Queens,  
The brightest Power on Earth that Heaven e'er formed;  
Aw'd and amazed the trembling Essex kneels,  
Essex that stood the dreadful voice of Cannons,  
Hid in a darker Field of Smoak and Fire,  
Than that where Cyclops blow the Forge, and sweat  
Beneath the mighty Hill, whilst Bullets round me  
Flew like the Bolts of Heaven when shot with Thunder,  
And lost their Fury on my Shield and Corslet;  
And stood these Dangers unconcerned, and dauntless;  
But you the most Majestic, brightest Form  
That ever ruled on Earth, have caught my Soul,  
Surprised its Virtues all with dread and wonder;  
My humble Eyes durst scarcely look up to you,  
Your dazzling Mien, and Sight so fill the Place,  
And every Part Celestial Rays adorn.  Queen. 
Ha!  [Aside. Essex. 
'Tis said I have been guilty—  
I dare not rise, but crawl thus on the earth,  
Till I have leave to kiss your Sacred Robe,  
And clear before the justest, best of Queens,  
My wronged and wounded Innocence.  Quee. 
What saidst thou Nottingham? what said the Earl?  [Aside Essex. 
What not a Word! a Look! not one blessed Look!  
Turn, turn your cruel Brow, and kill me with  
A Frown; it is a quick and surer way  
To rid you of your Essex,  
Than Banishment, than Fetters, Swords, or Axes—  
What, not that neither! Then I plainly see  
My Fate, the malice of Enemies  
Triumphant in their joyful faces; Burleigh  
With a glad Cowards smile, that knows ' has got  
Advantage o'er his valiant Foe, and Raleighs proud  
To see his dreaded Essex kneel so long,  
Essex that stood in his great Mistress Favour  
Like a huge Oak, the loftiest of the Wood,  
Whilst they no higher could attain to be  
Then humble Succours nourished by my Root,  
And like the Ivy twined their flattering Arms  
About my Waste, and lived but by my Smiles—  Quee. 
I must be gone: for if I stay I shall  
Here wrack my Conduct, and my Fame for ever—  
Thus the charmed Pilot listening to the Sirens,  
Let's his rich Vessel split upon a Rock,  
And loses both his Life and Wealth together.  Aside. Essex. 
Still am I shunned as if I wore Destruction—  [rises. 
Here, here my faithful and my valiant Friends,  
Dearest Companions of the Fate of Essex,  
Behold this Bosom studied o'er with Scars,  
This marble Breast, that has so often held,  
Like a fierce Battlement against the Foes  
Of England's Queen, that made a hundred Breaches;  
Here, pierce it straight, and through this Wild of wounds  
Be sure to reach my Heart, this loyal Heart,  
That sits consulting 'midst a thousand Spirits  
All at command, all faithful to my Queen.  Queen. 
If I had ever Courage, Haughtiness,  
Or Spirit, help me but now, and I am happy!  
He melts; it flows, and drowns my heart with Pity,  Aside. 
If I stay longer I shall tell him so—  
What is this Traitor in my sight!  
All that have Loyalty, and love their Queen,  
Forsake this horrid Wretch, and follow me.  Exeunt Queen and her Attendants, manet Essex solus. Ess. 
She's gone, and darted fury as she went—  
Cruelest of Queens!  
Not heard! Not hear your Soldier speak one word!  
Essex that once was all day listened to;  
Essex, that like a Cherub held thy Throne,  
Whilst thou didst dress me with thy wealthy Favours,  
Cheered me with Smiles, and decked me round with Glories;  
Nor was thy Crown scarce worshipped on thy head  
Without me by thy Side; but now art deaf  
As Adders, Winds, or the remorseless Seas,  
Deaf as thy cunning Sex's Ears to those  
That make unwelcome Love— What news my Friend?  Enter Southampton. South. 
Such as I dare not tell; but pardon me,  
As an ill Bird that perches on the side  
Of some tall Ship foretells a storm at hand,  
I come to give you warning of the danger—  
See Cecil with a Message from the Queen.  Ess. 
Then does my Wrack come rolling on apace;  
That foul Leviathan ne'er yet appeared  
Without a horrid Tempest from his Nostrils,  Enter to them Burleigh and Raleigh. Burl. 
Hear Robert Earl of Essex,  
Hear what the Queen, my Lord, by us pronounces;  
She now divests you of your Offices,  
Your dignities of Governor of Ireland,—  
Earl Martial, Master of her Horse, General  
Of all her Forces both by Land and Sea,  
And Lord Lieutenant of the several Counties,  
Of Essex, Hereford, and Westmoreland.  Ess. 
A vast and goodly sum all at one Cast  
By an unlucky hand thrown quite away.  Burl. 
Also her Pleasure is, that in obedience  
To her Commands, you send your Staff by us,  
Then leave the Court, and stir no farther than  
Your House, till order from the Queen and Council.  Ess. 
Thanks my Misfortunes, for you fall with weight  
Upon me, and Fate shoots her Arrows thick;  
'Tis hard if they not find one mortal Place  
About me—  Burl. 
My Lord, what shall we tell her Majesty?  
What is your Answer, for the Queen expects us?  Ess. 
Wilt thou then promise to be just, and tell her?  
Give her a Caution of her worst of Foes,  
Thy greedy self, the Lands infesting Giant,  
Exacting Heads from her best Subjects daily;  
Worse than the Phrygian Monster, he was more  
Cheaply compounded with, and but devoured  
seven Virgins in a week, and spared the rest.  South. 
Hold, my brave Friend, waste not the noble breath  
Of Essex on so base and mean a Subject—  
Thou Traitor to thy Sovereign and her Kingdoms,  
More full of guilt than e'er thou didst devise  
To lay on Essex, whom thou fear'st and hatest;  
And thou, because thy sordid Soul, and Person  
ne'er fitted thee  
For gallant Actions, thinkest the World so too:  
For he that looks through a foul Glass that's stained,  
Sees all things stained like the foul Perspective he uses.  
'Tis Crime enough in any to be valiant,  
To win a Battle or be fortunate,  
Whilst thou stand'st by the Queen to intercept,  
Or else determine Favours from her hands;  
'Tis not who is too blame, or who deserves,  
Nor whom the Queen would look on with a Grace,  
But whom proud Cecil pleases to reward,  
Or punish, and the Valiant never scape thee;  
Cursed be the brave that fall into such hands;  
For Cowards still are cruel and malicious.  Burl. 
This I dare tell, and that Southampton said it.  South. 
And put her too in mind of thy vain Glories,  
Such Impudence and Ostentation in thee,  
And so much horrid Pride and Costliness,  
As would undo a Monarch to supply.  Ess. 
So thrives the lazy Gown, and such as sleep  
On Woolsacks, and on Seats of injured Justice,  
Or learn to prate at Council-Tables; but  
How miserable is Fortune to the Valiant!  
Were but Commanders half so well rewarded  
For all their Winter's Camps, and Summer Fights,  
Then they might eat, and the poor Soldiers Widows,  
And Children too might all be kept from starving.  Raw. 
My Lord in speaking thus you tax the Queen  
Of Weakness and Injustice both, and that  
She favours none but Worthless Persons.  Burl. 
Must we return this stubborn Answer to her?  
You'll not obey her Majesty, nor here  
Resign your Staff of Offices to us?  Ess. 
Tell her what e'er thy malice can invent;  
Yet if thou sayst I'll not obey the Queen,  
I tell thee Lord,  
'Tis false, false as thy most inveterate Soul  
That looks through the foul Prison of thy Body,  
And curses all she sees at liberty—  
I tell thee creeping thing, the Queen's too good,  
More merciful than to condemn a Slave,  
Much less her Essex wichout hearing him—  
I will appeal to her—  Burl. 
You'll not believe us,  
Nor that it was by her Command we came.  Essex. 
I do not.  Burl. 
Fare you well my Lords.  [Exeunt Burleigh and Raleigh. Ess. 
Go thou  
My brave Southampton, follow to the Queen,  
And quickly ere my cruel Foes are heard,  
Tell her that thus her faithful Essex says,  
This Star she decked me with; and all these honours else,  
In one blessed hour, when scarce my tender years  
Had reached the Age of Man, she heaped upon me,  
As if the Sun that sows the Seeds of Gems  
And golden Mines had showered upon my head,  
And dressed me like the Bridegroom of her favour.  
This thou beheldst, and Nations wondered at,  
The World had not a Favourite so great,  
So loved as I.  South. 
And I am witness too  
How many gracious Smiles she blessed 'em with,  
And parted with a Look with every Favour,  
Was doubly worth the Gift, whilst the whole Court  
Was so well pleased, and showed their wondrous joy  
In shouting louder than the Roman Bands  
When julius and Augustus were made Consuls.  Ess. 
Thou canst remember too; for all she said was signal,  
That at the happy time she did invest  
Her Essex with this Robe of shining Glories,  
She bade me prize 'em as I would my Life,  
Defend 'em as I would her Crown and Person:  
Then a rich Sword she put into my Hand,  
And wished me Caesar's Fortune; so she graced me.  South. 
So young Alcides, when he first wore Arms,  
Did fly to kill the Eremanthean Boar,  
And so Achilles, first by Thaetis made  
Immortal, hasted to the Siege of Troy.  Ess. 
Go thou Southampton; for thou art my Friend,  
And such a Friend's an Angel in distress;  
Now the false Globe that flattered me is gone,  
Thou art to me more Wealth, more Recompense  
Than all the World was then— Entreat the Queen  
To bless me with a Moment's sight,  
And I will lay her Relics humbly down,  
As travelling Pilgrims do before the Shrines  
Of Saints they went a thousand Leagues to visit,  
And her bright Virgin Honours all untainted,  
Her Sword not spoiled with rust, but wet with blood,  
All Nation's blood that disobeyed my Queen;  
This Staff that disciplined her Kingdoms once,  
And triumphed o'er an hundred Victories;  
And if she will be pleased to take it, sav  
My Life, the Life of once her Darling Essex.  South. 
I fly my Lord, and let your hopes repose  
On the kind Zeal Southampton has to serve you.  [Ex. Southampton. Ess. 
Where art thou Essex! where are now thy Glories!  
Thy Summer's Garlands, and thy Winter's Laurels,  
The early Songs that every morning waked thee;  
Thy Halls, and Chambers thronged with Multitudes,  
More than the Temples of the Persian God  
To worship thy uprising, and when I appeared,  
The blushing Empress of the East, Aurora,  
Gladded the World not half so much as I:  
Yesterday Sun saw his great Rival thus,  
The spiteful Planet saw me thus adored,  
And some tall-built Pyramid, whose Height  
And golden Top confronts him in his sky,  
He tumbles down with lightning in his rage;  
So on a sudden has he snatched my Garlands,  
And with a Cloud impaled my gaudy Head,  
Struck me with Thunder, dashed me from the heavens',  
And oh! 'tis Doomsday now, and darkness all with me.  
Here I'll lie down— Earth will receive her Son.  
Take Pattern all by me, you that hunt glory,  
You that do climb the Rounds of high Ambition;  
Yet when you've reached, and mounted to the Top,  
Here you must come by just degrees at last,  
If not fall Headlong down at once like me—  
Here I'll abide close to my loving Centre:  
For here I'm sure that I can fall no further.—  Enter Earl of Rutland. 
Ha! what makes thou here! Tell me fairest Creature?  
Why art thou so in love with Misery,  
To come to be infected with my Woe,  
And disobey the angry Queen for me?  C. Ess. 
Bless me my Angel, guard me from such Sounds;  
Is this the Language of a welcome Husband!  
Are these fit words for Essex Bride to hear!  
Bride I may truly call myself, for Love  
Had scarce bestowed the Blessing of one Night,  
But snatched thee from these Arms.  Ess. 
My Soul, my Love!  
Come to my Breast thou purest Excellence,  
And throw thy lovely Arms about my Neck,  
More soft, more sweet, more loving than the Vine.  
Oh! I'm o'ercome with Joy, and sink beneath  [They embrace. 
Thy Breast.  C. Ess. 
Take me along with thee my Dear—  
My Essex, wake my Love, I say:  
I am grown jealous of each Bliss without thee;  
There's not a Dream, an Ecstasy or Joy,  
But I will double in thy ravished Senses.  
Come let's prepare, and mingle Souls together,  
Thou shalt lose nothing but a gainer be:  
Mine is as full of Love as thine can be.  Ess. 
Where have I been! But yet I have thee still—  
Come sit thee down upon this humble Floor,  
It was the first kind Throne that Love e'er had.  
Thus like the first bright Couple let's embrace,  
And fancy all around is Paradise.  
It must be so; for all is Paradise  
Where thou remainest, thou lovelier far than Eve.  C. Ess. 
And thou more brave, and nobler Person far,  
Than the first Man, whom heavens' peculiar Care  
Made for a Pattern for ingenious Nature,  
Which ne'er till thee excelled th' Original.  Ess. 
Thus when th' Almighty formed the lovely Maid,  
And sent her to the Bower where Adam lay,  
The first of Men awaked, and starting from  
His mossey flowery Bed whereon he slept,  
Lifted his eyes, and saw the Virgin coming,  
Saw the bright Maid that glittered like a Star,  
Stars he had seen, but ne'er saw one so fair.  
Thus they did meet, and thus they did embrace,  
Thus in the Infancy of pure desire,  
ere Lust, Displeasures, Jealousies, and Fears  
Debauched the World, and plagued the Breast of Man;  
Thus in the dawn of golden Time, when Love,  
And only Love taught Lovers what to do.  C. Ess. 
O thou most dear, most prized of all Mankind;  
I burn, I faint, I'm ravished with thy Love;  
The Favour is too hot,  
It scorches, Flames like pure AEthaerial Fire,  
And 'tis not Flesh and Blood, but Spirits can bear it,  
And those the brightest of Angelic Forms.  Ess. 
That is thyself, thy only self, thou fairest;  
There's not in Heaven so bright a Cherubin;  
No Angel there but for thy Love would die;  
The Thrones are all less happy there than I  C. Ess. 
O my best Lord! the Queen, the Queen my Love!  
Ah what have we committed to undo us!  
The Powers are angry, and have sent the Queen,  
The jealous Queen of all our innocent Joys,  
To drive us from our Paradise of Love;  
And oh my Lord! she will not ere't be long  
Allow us this poor Plat, this Ground to mourn on:  Ess. 
Weep not my Soul, my Love, my infinite All—  
Ah what could I express if there were words  
To tell how much, how tenderly my Thoughts  
Adore thee— Ah these tears are drops of Blood,  
Thy Essex Blood, my World, my Heaven, my Bride—  
〈◊〉 there's the Start of all my Joys beside,  
Blessed that I am that I can call thee Wife,  
That loves so well, and is so well beloved.  C. Ess. 
A hold my Lord, what shall I say of you,  
That best deserves a Love so well you speak of.  Ess. 
Again thou weepst— By Heaven there's not a Tear  
But weighs more than the Wealth of England's Crown.  
O thou bright Storer of all Virtues, were there  
But so much Goodness in thy Sex beside,  
It were enough to save all Womand-kind,  
And keep 'em from Damnation— Still thou weepst—  
Come let me kiss thy Eyes, and catch those Pearls,  
Hold thy Cheeks close to mine that none may fall,  
And spare me some of these Celestial Drops.  
Thus as two Turtles driven by a Storm,  
Dropping and weary, sheltered on a Bough,  
Begin to join their Melancholy voices,  
Then thus they Bill, and thus renew their Joys,  
With quivering Wings, and Cooing Notes repeat  
Their Loves, and thus like us bemoan each other.  Enter a Lady. Lady. 
Madam, the Queen expects you instantly.  C. Ess. 
Ah, what would wish to be of humane kind!  
Man in his Life scarce finds a Moment's bliss,  
But counts a thousand Pains for one short Pleasure,  
And when that comes 'tis snatched away like ours.  Ess. 
Go my best hopes, obey the Cruel Queen—  
I had forgot; thy Love, thy beauties charmed me,  
Dearer than Albion to the Sailor's sight  
Whom many years barred from his Native Country;  
Looking on thee, I gazed my Soul away,  
And quite forgot the dangerous Wrecks below—  
Farewell— Nay than thou'lt soften me to Fondness—  
The Queen may change, and we may meet again.  C. Ess. 
Farewell.  Ess. 
So have I seen a tall rich Ship of India  
Of mighty Bulk teeming with golden Oar,  
With prosperous Gales come sailing nigh the shore;  
Her Train of Pendants born up by the Wind;  
The gladsome Seas proud of the lovely weight,  
Now lift her up above the sky in height,  
And then as soon th' officious Waves divide,  
Hug the gay Thing, and clasp her like a Bride,  
Whilst Fishes play, and Dolphins gather round,  
And Tritons with their Coral Trumpets sound;  
Till on a hidden Rock at last she's born,  
Swift as our Fate, and thus in Pieces torn.  Exeunt severally. 
Finis Actus Secundi.   

Actus Tertius. Scoena Prima.  Countess of Nottingham, Burleigh. Nott. 
NOw famous Cecil, England owes to thee  
More than Rome's State did once to Cicero pay,  
That crushed the vast Designs of Catiline.  
But what did he? Quelled but a petty Consul,  
And saved a Commonwealth; but thou'st done more,  
Pulled down a haughtier far than Catiline,  
The Nations sole Dictator for Twelve years,  
And saved a Queen and Kingdoms by thy Wisdom.  Burl. 
But what the Roman Senate then allowed,  
Nay, and proud Cicero himself to Fulvia;  
Fulvia the lovely Saviour of her Country,  
Must all and more be now Ascribed to you,  
To the sole Wit of beauteous Nottingham;  
But I will cease and let the Nation praise thee,  
And fix thy Statue high, as was Minerva's,  
The great Palladium that protected Ilium—  
I came t'attend the Queen, where is she gone?  Not. 
She went to her Closet, where, she's now alone.  
As she passed by, I saw her lovely Eyes  
Clouded in Sorrow, and before she spied me,  
Sad Murmurs Echoed from her troubled Breast,  
And straight some Tears followed the mournful Sound▪  
Which when she did perceive me, she'd have hid,  
And with a piteous Sigh she strove to wipe  
The drops away, but with her hast she left  
Some sad remains upon her dewy Cheeks.  Burl. 
What should the Reason be!  Not. 
At Essex answer,  
What said she then?  Burl. 
No doubt th' affront had stung her;  
But kind Southampton faithful to his friend  
In all things came, and with a cunning Tale,  
Which she too willingly inclined to hear,  
Turned her to mildness, and at his Request,  
Promised to see the Earl, and hear him speak  
To vindicate his Crimes, which bold Southampton  
Declared to be his Enemy's Aspersions;  
And now is Essex sent for to the Court.  Nott. 
Then I am lost, and my designs unravelled.  
If once she see's him, all's undone again—  Burl. 
Behold the Closet opens— see the Queen—  
'Tis dangerous to interrupt her— let's Retire.  Not. 
Be you not seen; I'll wait within her call.  Enter the Queen alone as from her Closet, Exit Burleigh. Quee. 
Where am I now? Why wander I alone?  
What drags my Body forth without a mind,  
In all things like a Statue, but in motion?  
There's something I would say, but know not what,  
Nor yet to whom— O wretched State of Princes!  
That never can enjoy, nor wish to have,  
What is but meanly in its self a Crime,  
But 'tis a Plague, and Reigns through all the World.  
Faults done by us are like licentious Laws,  
Adored by all the Rabble, and are easier,  
And sooner far obeyed, than what are honest;  
And Comets are less dreadful than our failings—  
Where hast thou been?  
I thought dear Nottingham, I'd been alone.  Nott. 
Pardon this bold Intrusion, but my Duty  
Urges me farther— On my Knees I first  
Beg Pardon that I am so bold to ask it,  
Then, that you would disclose what 'tis afflicts you;  
Something hangs heavy on your Royal Mind,  
Or else I fear you are not well.  Quee. 
Rise, prithee—  
I am in Health, and thank thee for thy Love,  
Only a little troubled at my People.  
I have Reigned long, and they're grown weary of me;  
New Crown's are like New Garlands, fresh, and lovely;  
My Royal Sun declines towards its West,  
They're hot, and tired beneath its Autumn Beams—  
Tell me, what says the World of Essex coming?  Nott. 
Much they do blame him for't, but think him brave.  Quee. 
What, when the Traitor served me thus!  Nott. 
Indeed, it was not well.  Quee. 
Not well; and was that all?  Nott. 
It was a very bold, and heinous fault.  Quee. 
I was it not; and such a base Contempt  
As he deserves to die for? less than that  
Has cost a hundred nearer Favourites Heads,  
Since the first Saxon King that Reigned in England,  
And lately in my Royal Father's time,  
Was not brave Buckingham for less Condemned,  
And lost not Wolsey all his Church Revenues,  
Nay, and his Life too, but that he was a Coward,  
And durst not live to feel the stroke of Justice.  
Thou know'st it too, and this most vile of men,  
That brave Northumberland, and Westmoreland,  
For lesser Crimes than his were both Beheaded.  Nott. 
Most true— Can Essex then be thought so guilty,  
And not deserve to die?  Quee. 
To die! to Wrack,  
And as his Treasons are the worst of all men's,  
So I will have him plagued above the rest,  
His Limbs cut off, and placed to th' highest View,  
Not on low Bridges, Gates, and Walls of Towns,  
But on vast pinnacles that touch the Ske,  
Where all that pass, may in Derision say,  
Lo there is Essex, proud ingrateful Essex,  
Essex that braved the Justice of his Queen—  
Is not that well? Why dost not speak?  
And help thy Queen to rail against this Man.  Nott. 
Since you will give me leave, I will be plain,  
And tell your Majesty what all the World  
Says of that proud ingrateful Man;  Qu. 
Do so. Prithee what says the World of him, and me?  Nott. 
Of you they speak no worse, than of dead Saints,  
And Worship you no less than as their God,  
Than Peace, than Wealth, or their Eternal hopes;  
Yet do they often wish with kindest Tears.  
Sprung from the purest Love, that you'd be pleased  
To heal their Grievances on Essex charged,  
And not protect the Traitor by your Power,  
But give him up to Justice and to Shame  
For a Revenge of all your wrongs, and theirs.  Quee. 
What, would they then prescribe me Rules to Govern!  Nott. 
No more but with submission as to Heaun;  
But upon Essex they unload Reproaches,—  
And give him this bad Character,  
They say he is a Person (bating his Treasons)  
That in his Noblest, best Array of parts,  
He scarcely has enough to make him pass  
For a brave Man, nor yet a Hypocrite,  
And that he wears his Greatness, and his Honours  
Foolish, and Proud as Lackeys wear gay Liveries:  
valiant they will admit he is, but then  
Like Beasts precipitately Rash, and Brutish,  
Which is no more Commendable in him  
Than in a Bear, a Leopard, or a Wolf.  
He never yet had Courage over Fortune,  
And which too shows his natural Pride the more,  
He Roars, and staggers under small Affronts,  
And can no more endure the pain than Hell;  
Then he's as Covetous, and more Ambitious  
Than that first Fiend that sowed the Vice in Heaven,  
And therefore was dethroned and Tumbled thence;  
And so they wish that Essex too may fall.  Quee. 
Enough, thoust railed thyself quite out of Breath;  
I'll hear no more— Blisters upon her Tongue.  [Aside. 
'Tis baseness though in thee but to repeat,  
What the rude World maliciously has said;  
Nor dare the vilest of the Rabble think,  
Much less profanely speak such horrid Treasons—  
Yet 'tis not what they say, but what you'd have 'em.  Nott. 
Did not your Majesty Command me speak?  Quee. 
I did, but then I saw thee on a sudden,  
Settle thy Senses all in eager Postures,  
Thy Lips, thy Speech, and Hands were all prepared,  
A, joyful Red painted thy envious Cheeks,  
Malicious Flames flashed in a moment from  
Thy Eyes like Lightning from thy O'ercharged Soul,  
And fired thy Breast, which like a hard rammed Piece,  
Discharged unmannerly upon my face.  Nott. 
Pardon bright Queen, most Royal and beloved,  
The manner of expressing of my Duty;  
But you yourself begun and taught me first.  Queen. 
I am his Queen, and therefore may have leave:  
May not myself have privilege to mould  
The Thing I made, and use it as I please?  
Besides he has committed monstrous Crimes  
Against my Person, and has urged me far  
Beyond the power of Mortal suffering.  
Me he has wronged, but thee he never wronged.  
What has poor Essex done to thee? Thou hast  
No Crown that he could hope to gain,  
No Laws to break, no Subjects to molest,  
Nor Throne that he could be ambitious of—  
What pleasure couldst thou take to see  
A drowning man knocked on the head, and yet  
Not wish to save the miserable Wretch!  Nott. 
I was too blame.  Qu. 
No more—  
Thou seest thy Queen, the World, and Destiny  
Itself against this one bad Man, and him  
Thou canst not pity nor excuse.  Nott. 
Madam—  Queen. 
Begone, I do forgive thee; and bid Rutland  [Exit Nottingham. 
Come to me straight— ha! what have I disclosed?  
Why have I chid my Woman for a fault  
Which I wrung from her, and committed first?  
Why stands my jealous and tormented Soul  
A Spy to listen, and divulge the Treasons  
Spoke against Essex?— O you mighty Powers!  
Protectors of the Fame of England's Queen,  
Let me not know it for a thousand Worlds,  
'Tis dangerous— But yet it will discover,  
And I feel something whispering to my Reason,  
That says it is— O blotted be the Name  
For ever from my Thoughts. If it be so,  
And I am stung with thy Almighty Dart,  
I 'lldie, but I will tear thee from my Heart,  
Shake off this hideous Vapour from my Soul,  
This haughty Earl, the Prince of my Control;  
Banish this Traitor to his Queen's repose,  
And blast him with the malice of his Foes:  
Were there no other way his guilt to prove,  
'Tis Treason to insect the Throne with Love.  Enter Countess of Essex. 
How now my Rutland? I did send for you—  
I have observed you have been sad of late.  
Why wearest thou black so long? and why that Cloud,  
That mourning Cloud about thy lovely Eyes?  
Come, I will find a noble Husband for thee.  C. Ess. 
Ah mighty Princess, most adored of Queens!  
Your Royal Goodness ought to blush, when it  
Descends to care for such a Wretch as I am.  Queen. 
Why sayst thou so, I love thee well, indeed  
I do, and thou shalt find by this 'tis truth—  
Injurious Nottingham, and I had some  
Dispute, and 'twas about my Lord of Essex—  C. Ess. 
Ha!  [Aside. Queen. 
So much that she displeased me strangely,  
And I did send her from my sight in anger.  C. Ess. 
O that dear Name o'th' sudden how it starts me!  
Makes every Vein within me leave its Channel,  
To run, and to protect my feeble Heart;  
And now my Blood as soon retreats again  
To crowd with blushes full my guilty Cheeks—  
Alas I fear.  Aside, Queen. 
Thou blushest at my Story!  C. Ess. 
Not I, my Gracious Mistress, but my Eyes  
And Cheeks fired and amazed with joy, turned red  
At such a Grace that you were pleased to show me.  Queen. 
I'll tell thee then, and ask thee thy Advice.  
There is no doubt, dear Rutland, but thou hear'st  
The daily Clamours that my People vent  
Against the most unhappy Earl of Essex,  
The Treasons that they would impeach him of,  
And which is worse, this day he is arrived  
Against my strict Commands, and left Affairs  
In Ireland desperate, headless, and undone.  C. Ess. 
Might I presume to tell my humble mind,  
Such Clamours very often are designed  
More by the People's Hate than any Crimes  
In those they would accuse.  Queen. 
Thou speak'st my sense;  
But oh dear Rutland, he has been to blame.—  
Lend me thy Breast to lean upon— O'tis  
A heavy Yoke they would impose on me  
Their Queen, and I am weary of the Load,  
And want a Friend like thee to lull my Sorrows.  C. Ess. 
Behold these tears sprung from fierce Pain and Joy,  
To see your wondrous Grief, your wondrous Pity.  
O that kind Heaven would but instruct my thoughts,  
And teach my Tongue such softening, healing Words,  
That it might charm your Soul, and cure your Breast  
For ever.  Queen. 
Thou art my better Angel then,  
And sent to give me everlasting quiet—  
Say, is't not pity that so brave a Man,  
And one that once was reckoned as a God,  
That he should be the Author of such Treason!  
That he, that was like Caesar, and so great,  
Has had the Power to make, and unmake Kings,  
Should stoop to gain a petty Throne from me.  C. Ess. 
I can't believe 'tis in his Soul to think,  
Much less to act a Treason against you,  
Your Majesty, whom I have heard him so  
Commend, that Angels words did never flow  
With so much Eloquence, so rare, so sweet,  
That nothing but the Subject could deserve.  Queen. 
Hast thou then heard him talk of me?  C. Ess. 
I have,  
And as of so much Excellence as if  
He meant to make a rare Encomium on  
The World, the Stars, or what is brighter, Heaven.  
She is, said he, the Goddess of her Sex,  
So far beyond all Womankind beside,  
That what in them is most adored, and loved,  
Their Beauties, Parts, and other Ornaments,  
Are but in her the foils to greater Luster,  
And all perfections else, how rare soever,  
Are in her Person but as lesser Gleams,  
And infinite Beams that usher still the Sun,  
But scarce are visible amidst her other Brightness.  
And then she is so good it might be said,  
That whilst she lives, a Goddess reigns in England:  
For all her Laws are registered in Heaven,  
And copied thence by her— But then he cried,  
With a deep sigh fetched from his loyal Heart,  
Well may the World bewail that time at last,  
When so much Goodness shall on Earth be mortal,  
And wretched England break its stubborn Heart.  Queen. 
Did he say all this?  C. Ess. 
All this! nay more,  
A thousand times as much, I never saw him  
But his discourse was still in praise of you;  
Nothing but Raptures fell from Essex Tongue:  
And all was still the same, and all was you.  Queen. 
Such words spoke Loyalty enough.  C. Ess. 
Then does  
Your Majesty believe that he can be  
A Traitor?  Queen. 
No, yet he has broke the Laws,  
And I for shame no longer can Protect him;  
Nay, durst not see him?  C. Ess. 
What not see him say you!  
By that bright Star of Mercy in your Soul,  
And listening through your Eyes, let me entreat:  
'Tis good, 'tis Godlike, and like England's Queen;  
Like only her to pity the Distressed—  
Will you not grant that he shall see you once?  Queen. 
What he  
That did defy my absolute Commands,  
And brings himself audaciously before me!  C. Ess. 
Impute it not to that, but to his danger,  
That hearing what proceedings, here had passed  
Against his Credit and his Life, he comes  
Loyal, though unadvised, to clear himself.  Queen. 
Well, I will see him then, and see him straight—  
Indeed my Rutland, I would fain believe  
That he is honest still, as he is brave.  C. Ess. 
O nourish that most kind belief, 'tis sprung  
From Justice in your Royal Soul— Honest!  
By your bright Majesty, he's faithful still,  
The pure and Virgin Light is less unteinted;  
The glorious Body of the Sun breeds Gnats,  
And Infects that molest its curious Beams;  
The Moon has spots upon her Crystal Face,  
But in his Soul are none— And for his Valour,  
The Christian World Records its wondrous Story.  
Baseness can never mingle with such Courage.  
Remember what a Scourge he was to Rebels,  
And made your Majesty adored in Spain  
More than their King, that bribed you with his Indies.  
And made himself so dreadful to their Fears,  
His very Name put Armies to the Rout;  
It was enough to say here's Essex come;  
And Nurses stilled their Children with the Fright.  Queen. 
Ha! she's concerned, Transported!  
I'll try her further— Then he has a Person!  C. Ess. 
I in his Person, there you sum up all.  
Ah Loveliest Queen, did you ere see the like?  
The Limbs of Mars, and awful Front of Jove,  
With such a Harmony of Parts as put  
To blush the Beauties of his Daughter Venus,  
A Pattern for the Gods to make a perfect Man by,  
And Michael Angelo to frame a Statue  
To be adored through all the wondering World.  Queen. 
I can endure no more— Hold Rutland,  
Thy Eyes are moist, thy Senses in a hurry,  
Thy words come crowding one upon another.  
Is it a real Passion, or extorted?  
Is it for Essex. sake or for thy Queens,  
That makes this furious Transport in thy mind?  
She loveshim— Ah, 'tis so— What have I done?  
Conjured another Storm to Rack my Rest?  
Thus is my Mind with quiet never blessed,  
But like a loaded Bark finds no repose,  
When 'tis becalmed, nor when the Wether blows.  Enter Burleigh, Countess of Nottingham, Raleigh, Lords, Attendants and Guards. Burl. 
May't please your Majesty the Earl of Essex  
Returned by your Command, entreats to kneel  
Before you.  Queen. 
Now hold out my Treacherous heart,  
Guard well the breach that this proud Man has made—  Aside. 
Rutland, we must defer this Subject till  
Some other time— Come hither Nottingham.  Enter the Earls of Essex and Southampton Attended. Ess. 
Behold your Essex kneels to clear himself  
Before his Queen, and now receive his Doom.  Queen. 
I must divert my Fears— I see he takes the way  
To bend the sturdy temper of my Heart—  
Well my Lord, I see you can  
Withstand my Anger, as you lately boasted  
You did your Enemies— Were they such Foes  
As bravely did resist, or else the same  
You Parleyed with? It was a mighty Courage.  Ess. 
Well, well, you cruel Fates! well have you found  
The way to shock the Basis of a Temper;  
That all your malice else could ne'er invent,  
And you my Queen to break your Soldier's Heart.  
Thunder and Earthquakes, Prodigies on Land  
I've born, Devouring Tempests on the Seas,  
And all the horrid strokes beside  
That Nature e'er invented; yet to me  
Your scorn is more— Here take this Traitor,  
Since you will have me so; throw me to Dungeons,  
Lash me with Iron Rods fast bound in Chains,  
And like a Fiend in Darkness let me roar,  
It is the nobler Justice of the Two.  Queen. 
I see you want no cunning skill to talk,  
And daub with words a Guilt you would evade—  
But yet my Lord if you would have us think  
Your virtues wronged, wash off the stain you carry,  
And clear yourself of Parlying with the Rebels—  
Grant Heaven he does but that, and I am happy.  [Aside. Ess. 
My Parlying with the Enemy?  Queen. 
Yes, your secret treating with Tyrone I mean,  
And making Articles with England's Rebels.  Ess. 
Is that alleged against me for a Fault,  
Put in your Royal Breast by some that are  
My false Accusers for a Crime? Just Heaven!  
How easy 'tis to make a Great Man Fall,  
'Tis Wise, 'tis Turkish Policy in Courts,  
For Treating!  
Am I not yet your General, and was  
I not so there by virtue of this Staff?  
I thought your Majesty had given me Power,  
And my Commission had been absolute  
To Treat, to Fight, give Pardons, or Disband:  
So much and vast was my Authority,  
That you were pleased to say as Mirth to others,  
I was the first of English Kings that Reigned  
In Ireland.  Queen. 
O how soon would I believe,  
How willingly approve of such Excuses,  
His Answers which to all the Crowd are weak—  Aside. 
That large Commission had in it no Power,  
That gave you leave to Treat with Rebels,  
Such as Tyrone, and wanted not Authority  
To Fight 'em on the least Advantage.  Ess. 
The Reason why  
I lead not forth the Army to the North,  
And fought not with Tyrone, was, that my Men  
Were half consumed with Fluxes and Diseases,  
And those that lived, so weakened and unfit,  
That they could fierce defend them from the Vultures  
That took 'em for the Carrion of an Army.  Queen. 
Oh I can hold no longer, he'll not hide his Guilt.  
I fear he will undo himself and me—  Aside. 
Name that no more for shame of Thee the Cause,  
Nor hide thy Guilt by broaching of a worse;  
Fain I would tell, but whisper it in thy Ear,  
That none besides may hear, nay not myself:  
How vicious thou hast been— Say was not Essex  
The Plague that first infected my poor Soldiers,  
And killed 'em with Diseases? Was't not he  
That Loitered all the year without one Action,  
Whilst all the Rebels in the North grew bold,  
And Rallied daily to the Queens Dishonour;  
Mean while thou stoodst and saw thy Army Rot  
In Fenny and unwholesome Camps— Thou hast  
No doubt a Just Excuse for coming too,  
In spite of all the Letters that I sent  
With my Commands to hinder thee— Be silent—  
If thou makest more such Impudent Excuses,  
Thou'lt raise an Anger will be fatal to thee.  Ess. 
Not speak! Must I be Tortured on the Wrack,  
And not be suffered to discharge a Groan!  
Speak! Yes I will were there a thousand Deaths  
Stood ready to devour me; 'tis too plain  
My Life's Conspired, my Glories all betrayed:  
That Vulture Cecil there with hungry Nostrils  
Waits for my Blood, and Raleigh for my Charge,  
Like Birds of Prey that seek out Fighting Fields,  
And know when Battail's near: nay, and my Queen  
Has passed her Vote, I fear, to my Destruction.  Queen. 
Oh I'm undone! How he destroys my Pity!  
Could I bear this from any other Man!  
He pulls and tears the Fury from my Heart  
With greater grief and pain, than a forked Arrow.  
Is drawn from forth the Bosom where 'twas lodged.  
Mild words are all in vain, and lost upon him—  Aside. 
Proud and ingrateful Wretch, how durst thou say it!  
Know Monster that thou hast no Friend but me,  
And I have no pretence for it but one,  
And that's in Contradiction to the World,  
That Curses and abhors thee for thy Crimes.  
Stir me no more with Anger for thy Life,  
Take heed how thou dost shake my wrongs too much,  
Lest they fall thick and Heavy on thy Head.  
Yet thou shalt see what a rash Fool thou art—  
Know then that I forgive thee from this Moment  
All that is past, and this unequalled Boldness,  
Give thee that Life thou saidst I did Conspire against—  
But for your Offices—  Ess. 
I throw 'em at your Feet.  [Lays his General's Staff down. 
Now Banish him that Planted strength about you,  
Covered this Island with my spreading Laurels,  
Whilst your safe Subjects slept beneath their shade.  
Give 'em to Courtiers, Sycophants and Cowards  
That sell the Land for Peace and children's Portions,  
Whilst I retreat to afric in some Desert,  
Sleep in a Den and Herd with Valiant Brutes,  
And serve the King of Beasts, there's more Reward,  
More Justice there than in all Christian Courts:  
The Lion spared the Man that freed him from  
The Toil, but England's Queen abhors her Essex.  South. 
My Lord—  C. Ess. 
Ah what will be th' Event of this!  [Aside. Queen. 
Audacious Traitor.  Ess. 
Ha!  South. 
My Lord, My Lord, recall your Temper.  Ess. 
You said that I was bold, but now who blames  
My Rage? Had I been ruff as Storms and Tempests,  
Rash as Cethegus, mad as Ajax was,  
Yet this has rammed more Powder in my Breast,  
And blown a Magazeen of Fury up—  
A Traitor! Yes for serving you so well;  
For making England like the Roman Empire  
In Great Augustus' Time, renowned in Peace  
At home, and War abroad; Enriching you  
With spoils both of the Wealthy Sea and Land,  
More than your Thames does bring you in an Age,  
And setting up your Fame to such a height  
That it appears the Column of the World;  
For tumbling down the proud Rebellious Earls,  
Northumberland and Westermland, which caused  
The cutting both their Heads off with an Axe  
That saved the Crown on yours— This Essex did,  
And I'll remove the Traitor from your sight.  Queen. 
Stay Sir, take your Reward along with you—  [Offers to go] the Queen comes up to him and gives him a Box on the Ear. Ess. 
Ha! Furies, Death and Hell! a Blow!  
Has Essex had a Blow!— Hold, stop my Arm  [Lays hand on his Sword. 
Some God— Who is't has given it me? The Queen!  South. 
What do you mean my Lord!  Queen. 
Unhand the Villain—  
Durst the vile Slave attempt to Murder me!  Ess. 
No, You're my Queen, that Charms me, but by all  
The subtlety, and Woman in your Sex  
I Swear, that had you been a Man you durst not,  
Nay, your bold Father Harry durst not this  
Have done— Why say I him? not all the Harry's,  
Nor Alexander's self were he alive,  
Should boast of such a Deed on Essex done  
Without Revenge.  Queen. 
Rail on, despair, and Curse thy Foolish breath,  
I'll leave thee like thy Hopes at th'hour of Death,  
Like the First Slayer wandering with a Mark,  
Shuning the Light, and wishing for the Dark,  
In Torments worse than Hell, when thou shalt see  
Thou hast by this Cursed Chance lost Heaven and me.  Exeunt Queen, etc. Manent Essex & South. South. 
What have you done my Lord! Your haughty Carriage  
Has ruined both yourself and all your Friends—  
Follow the Queen, and humbly on your Knees  
Implore Her Mercy, and confess your Fault.  Ess. 
Ha! And tell her that I'll take a Blow!  
Thou wouldst not wish thy Friend were such a Slave—  
By Heaven my Cheek has set on Fire my Soul,  
And the Disgrace sticks closer to my Heart,  
Than did the Son of Old Antipater's,  
Which cost the Life of his proud Master— Stand off,  
Beware you lay not hands upon my Ruin,  
I have a Load would sink a Legion that  
Should offer but to Save me.  South. 
My Lord let us retire,  
And shun this Barbarous Place.  Ess. 
ay, there thou sayst it—  
Abhor all Courts if thou art brave and wise,  
For than thou never shalt be sure to rise;  
Think not by doing well a Fame to get,  
But be a Villain, and thou shalt be Great.  
Here Virtue stands by 't self, or not at all,  
Fools have Foundations, only brave Men Fall,  
But if ill Fate, and thy own Merits bring  
Thee once to be a Favourite to a King,  
It is a Curse that follows Loyalty,  
Cursed in thy Merits, more in thy Degree,  
In all the sport of Chance its chiefest Aim,  
Mankind's the Hunt, a Favourite is the Game.  Exeunt. 
Finis Actus Tertii.   

Actus Quartus. Scoena prima.  Countess of Nottingham, Raleigh. C. Nott. 
SIR, did you ever see so strange a Scene  
As Essex boldness? Nay, and which is more  
To be admired, the Queen's Prodigious Patience!  Raw. 
So Strange, that naught but such a Miracle  
Had Saved him from Death upon the Place.  C. Nott. 
She's of a Nature wondrous in her Sex,  
Not hasty to admire the Beauties, Wisdom,  
Valour, and Parts in others though extreme,  
Because there's so much Excellence in herself,  
And thinks that all Mankind should be so too;  
But when once entertained, none cherishes,  
Exalts, or favours Virtue more than she,  
Slow to be moved, and in her Rage discreet—  
But then the Earl's like and ungoverned Steed,  
That yet has all the Shapes and other Beauties  
That are commendable, or sought in one:  
His Soul with sullen Beams shines in itself,  
More Jealous of men's Eyes, than is the Sun  
That will not suffer to be looked into;  
And there's a Mine of Sulphur in his Breast,  
Which when 'tis touched or heated, straight takes Fire,  
And tears, and Blows up all his Virtues with it.  Raw. 
Ambitious Minds feed daily upon Passion,  
And ne'er can be at Rest within themselves,  
Because they never meet with Slaves enough  
To tread upon, Mechanics do adore 'em,  
And Lords and Statesmen to have Cringes from;  
Like some of those strange Seas that I've been on,  
Whose Tides are always Violent and Ruff,  
Where Winds are seldom blowing to molest 'em.  
she'd done a Nobler Justice, if instead of  
That Schoolboys Punishment a Blow,  
she'd snatched a Halberd from her nearest Guard,  
And thrust it to his Heart; for less than that  
Did the bold Macedonian Monarch kill  
Clitus his Friend, and braver Soldier far.  C. Nott. 
But worse had been th' Event of such a Deed,  
For if th'afflicted King was hardly brought  
From Clitus Body, she'd have died o'er his.  
But how proceed the bold Rebellious Lords  
In Essex House?  Raw. 
Still they increase in number.  
The Queen has sent Four of her Chiefest Lords,  
And since I hear the Guards are gone. 'Tis said,  
For his Excuse, that Blunt that Fiend of Hell,  
And Brand of all his Master's wicked Councils,  
Has spread abroad this most abhorred of Lies,  
That I and the Lord Grace should join to Murder him.  C. Nott. 
Already then he's hunted to the Toil,  
Where let him Roar, and lash himself with Fury,  
But never, never shall get out with struggling.  
Oh it o'erjoyed th'Affront within my Soul,  
To see the Man by all the World adored,  
That like a Comet shined above, and ruled below,  
To see him on a sudden from our Eyes  
Drop like a Star, and Vanish in the Ground;  
To see him how he bit the cursed Torture  
That durst no further venture than his Lips,  
When he passed by the Guards to hear no Noyes,  
No Room for Mighty Essex was Proclaimed;  
No Caps, no Knees, nor Welcomes to salute him,  
Then how he Chafed, and started like a Deer  
With the fierce Dart fast sticking in his side,  
And finds his speedy death where ere he runs!  Raw. 
Behold the Queen and the whole Court appear.  Enter the Queen, Burleigh, Countess of Nottingham, Lords, Attendants and Guards. Queen. 
Are the Rebellious Earls then apprehended?  Burl. 
They are, thanks to the Almighty Powers,  
And the Eternal Fortune of your Majesty.  Queen. 
And how did you proceed with my Commands?  
And how did the Rebel's act?  Burl. 
Most Audatiously:  
The Four Lords, chiefest of your Private Council,  
Sent thither by your Majesty's Commission,  
Came to the Rebel's House, but found the Gates  
Guarded, and shut against them; yet at last  
Telling they brought a Message from the Queen,  
They were admitted, all besides, but him  
That bore the Seal before the Chancellor  
Denied: Entering they saw the outward Court  
Filled with a number of promiscuous Persons,  
The chief of which bold Traitors in the midst  
Stood the Two Earls, of Essex and Southampton,  
Of whom your Faithful Messengers with loud  
And Loyal Voices did demand the Cause  
Of their unjust Assembly, telling them  
All real Grievances should be redressed;  
But straight their words were choked by louder Cries,  
And by the Earls Command with Insolence  
The People drove 'em to a strong Apartment  
Belonging to the House, setting a Guard  
Of Muskets at the Door, and threatening them  
That they should there be kept close Prisoners  
Till the next Morning that the Earl returned  
From Visiting his Friends the Citizens.  Queen. 
O horrid Insolence! Attempt my Council!  
My nearest Friends! Well Essex well,  
I thank thee for the Cure of my Disease;  
Thou goest the readiest way to give me Ease—  Aside. 
The City sayst! What did he in the City?  Burl. 
There, as I learned from many that confessed,  
He was informed the Citizens would rise,  
Which to promote, he went disguised like one  
Whom evil Fortune had bereaved of Sense,  
And almost seemed as pitiful a Wretch  
As Harpagus, that fled all o'er dismembered  
To fond Astyages, to gain the Trust  
Of all his Median Army to betray it.  
His Head was bare, the Heat and Dust had made  
His Manly Face compassionate to behold, which he  
So well did use, that sometimes with a voice  
That ushered Tears both from himself and them,  
And sometimes with a popular Rage he ran  
With Fury through the Streets. To those that stood  
Far off he bended and made taking Signs:  
To those about him raised his voice aloud,  
And humbly did beseech 'em for a Guard,  
Told 'em he was attempted to be murdered  
By some the Chief of th' Court, then counted all his wounds,  
Unstrip'd his Vest, and showed his naked Scars,  
Telling them what great Wonders he had done,  
And would do more to serve 'em and their Children;  
Begging still louder to the stinking Rabble,  
And sweated too so many eager drops, as if  
He had been pleading for Rome's Consulship.  Queen. 
How came he taken?  Burl. 
After he had used  
Such subtle means to gain your Subjects Hearts,  
(Your Citizens that ever were most Faithful,  
And too well grounded in their Loyalties  
To be seduced from such a Queen;) and finding  
That none began to Arm in his behalf;  
Fear and Confusion of his horrid Guilt  
Possessed him, and despairing of success,  
Attempted straight to walk through Ludgate Home,  
But being resisted by some Companies  
Of the Trained Bands that stood there in Defence,  
He soon retreated to the nearest Stairs,  
And so came back by Water at the Time  
When your most Valiant Soldiers with their Leader  
Entered his House, and took Southampton and the Rest.  
Th'affrighted Earl Defenceless both in mind  
And body, without the Power to help himself;  
And being full of Horror in his Thoughts,  
Was forced to run for shelter in the Room  
Of a small Summer House upon the Thames,  
Which when the Soldiers came to search, and found him;  
Who then had Eyes, and did not melt for Pity!  
To see the High, the Gallant Essex there  
Trembling and Panting like the frighted Quarry  
Whom the fierce Hawk had in his eager Eye.  Queen. 
Ha! By my Stars I think the mournful Tale  
Has almost made thee weep— Can Essex miseries  
Then force Compassion from thy Flinty Breast!  
'A weeps, the Crocodile weeps o'er his Prey!  
How wretched and how low then art thou fallen,  
That even thy Barbarous Hunters can neglect  
Their Rage, and turn their cruel sport to pity!  
What then must be my Lot? how many sighs,  
How many Griefs, Repentances and Horrors  
Must I Eternally endure for this!  
Where is the Earl?  Burl. 
Under sufficient Guard  
In order to his sending to the Tower.  Queen. 
Ha, In the Tower! How durst they send him there  
Without my Order?  Burl. 
Th'earls are yet without  
In the Lieutenant's Custody, who waits  
But to receive your Majesty's Command  
To carry 'em thither.  Queen. 
What shall I do now?  
Wake me thou watchful Genius of thy Queen,  
Rouse me, and Arm now against my Foe,  Aside. 
pity's my Enemy, and Love's my Foe,  
And both have equally Conspired with Essex.  
Ha! Shall I then refuse to punish him!  
Condemn the Slave that disobeyed my Orders,  
That braved me to my Face, and did attempt  
To murder me, than went about to gain  
My Subjects Hearts, and seize my Crown.  
Now by my thousand wrongs 'a dies, dies quickly,  
And I could Stab this Heart, if I but thought  Aside. 
The Traitor in it to corrupt it— Away  
And send him to the Tower with speed— Yet hold.  C. Nott. 
The Queen's distracted how to save the Earl—  
Her Study puts my Hatred on the Wrack.  Aside. Queen. 
Who is it thou wouldst kill with so much hast?  
Is it not Essex? Him thou didst Create,  
And Crowned his Morning with full Rays of Honours?  
Whilst he returned 'em with whole Springs of Laurels,  
Faught for thy Fame a Hundred Times in Blood,  
And ventured twice as many Lives for thee;  
And shall I then for one rash act of his  
Of which I was the cruel Cause, Condemn him?  Aside. C. Not. 
Her Rage Ebbs out, and Pity flows apace.  [Aside. Queen. 
Do what you will my Stars, do as you please  
Just Heaven, and Censure England's Queen for it,  
Yet Essex I must see, and then who e'er thou art  
That when I'm dead shall call this tender Fault,  
This only Action of my Life in Question,  
Thou canst at worst but say that it was Love,  
Love that does never cease to be Obeyed,  
Love that has all my Power and strength betrayed,  
Love that sways wholly like the Cause of things.  
King's may Rule Subjects, but Love Reigns o'er Kings,  
Sets bounds to heavens' high Wrath when 'tis severe,  
And is the greatest Bliss and Virtue there—  Aside. 
Carry Southampton to the Tower straight,  
But Essex I will see before he goes—  
Now help me Art, check every Pulse within me,  
And let me feign a Courage tho' I've none.—  Enter Essex with Guards. 
Behold 'a comes with such a Pomp of misery!  
Greatness in all he shows, and nothing makes  
Him less, but turns to be Majestic in him.  Aside. 
All that are present for a while withdraw,  
And leave the Prisoner here with me Unguarded.  Exeunt. Manent Queen & Essex. Ess. 
Thus, though I am Condemned and hated by you,  
A Traitor by your Royal will Proclaimed;  [Essex kneels.] 
Thus do I bless my Queen, and all those Powers  
That have inspired her with such tender mercy,  
As once to hear her dying Essex speak,  
And now receive his Sentence from your Lips,  
Which let it be my Life or Death, they're both  
Alike to me, from you my Royal Mistress:  
And thus I will receive my Doom, and wish  
My Knees might ever till my dying minute  
Cleave to the Earth, as now they do in token of  
The choicest, humblest begging of the Blessing.  Queen. 
Pray rise my Lord. You see that I dare venture  
To leave myself without a Guard between us.  Ess. 
Fairest that e'er was England's Queen, you need not—  
The time has been that Essex has been thought  
A Guard, and being near you, has been more  
Than Crowds of Mercenary Slaves;  
And is he not so now? O think me rather,  
Think me a Traitor, if I can be so  
Without a thought against your Precious Life,  
But wrong me not with that: For by yourself,  
By your bright self that rules o'er all my Wishes,  
I Swear I would not touch that Life, to be  
As Great as you, the Greatest Prince on Earth;  
Lightning should blast me first,  
ere I would touch the Person of my Queen,  
Less gentle than the Breeze.  Queen. 
Oh you're become a wondrous Penitent  
My Lord, the time has been you were not so:  
Then you were haughty, and because you urged me,  
Urged me beyond the suffering of a Saint,  
To strike you, which a King would have obeyed;  
Then straight your Malice led you to the City,  
Tempting my Loyal Subjects to Rebel,  
Laying a Plot how to surprise the Court,  
Then seize my Person with my chiefest Council  
To Murder them, and I to beg your Mercy;  
This, this the wondrous Faithful Essex did,  
Thou whom I raised from the vile Dust of man,  
And placed thee as a jewel in my Crown,  
And bought thee dearly for my Favour, at the rate  
Of all my People's Grievances and Curses,  
Yet thou didst this, ingrateful Monster, this  
And all, for which as surely thou shalt die,  
die like the foulest and the worst Ingrate;  
But Fetters now have humbled you I see.  Ess. 
O hear me speak most injured Majesty,  
Brightest of Queens, Goddess of Mercy too,  
Oh think not that the Fear of Death or Prisons  
Can e'er disturb a Heart like mine, or make it  
More Guilty, or more sensible of Guilt.  
All that you're pleased to say, I now confess,  
Confess my Misery, my Crime, my shame;  
Yet neither Death nor Hell should make me own it,  
But true Remorse and duty to yourself,  
And Love— I dare stand Candidate with Heaven,  
Who loves you most and purest.  Queen. 
Now he awakes me,  
And all my Faculties begin to listen,  
Steal to my Eyes, and tread soft paces to  
My Ears as loath to be discovered, yet  
As loath to lose the Sirens Charming song.  
Help me a little now my cautious Angel.—  Aside. 
I must confess I formerly believed so,  
And I acknowledged it by my Rewards.  Ess. 
You have, but oh what has my Rashness done!  
And what has not my Guilt Condemned me to!  
Seated I was in Heaven, where once that Angel,  
That haughty Spirit Reigned that Tempted me,  
But now thrown down, like him, to worse than Hell.  Queen. 
ay, think on that, and like that Fiend roar still  
In Torments, when thou may'st have been most happy—  
There I outdid my strength, and feel my Rage  
Recoil upon me, like a foolish Child  
Who firing of a Gun as much as he can lift,  
Is blasted with the Fury of the Blow.  Aside. Ess. 
Most blessed of Queens! her Doom, her very Anger's kind,  
And I will suffer it as willingly  
As your loud wrongs instruct you to inflict.  
I know my Death is nigh, my Enemies  
Stand like a Guard of Furies ready by you  
To intercept each Sigh, kind wish, or Pity,  
Ere it can reach to Heaven in my Defence,  
And dash it with a Cloud of Accusations.  Queen. 
Ha! I begin to dread the Danger nigh,  
Like an unskillful Swimmer that has Waded  
Beyond his depth, I'm caught, and almost drowned,  
In Pity— What! And no one near to help me!  Aside. Ess. 
My Father once too truly skilled in Fate,  
In my first blooming Age to ripening Glory,  
Bid me beware my Six and Thirtieth year,  
That year said he will fatal to thee prove,  
Something like Death, or worse than Death will seize thee.  
Too well I find that Cruel Time's at Hand,  
For what can e'er more Fatal to me prove,  
Than my lost Fame, and losing of my Queen.  Queen. 
'Tis so, 'tis true, nor is it in my Power  
To help him— Ha! Why is it not? What hinders!  
Who dares, or thinks to contradict my Will!  
Is it my Subjects or my Virtue stays me?  
No, Virtue's Patient and abhors Revenge,  
Nay, sometimes weeps at Justice— 'Tis not Love—  
Ah call it any thing but that; 'tis Mercy,  
Mercy that Pities Foes when in distress,  Aside. 
Mercy the heavens' Delights—  
My Lord I fear your hot-spurr Violence  
Has brought you to the very brink of Fate,  
And 'tis not in my Power if I'd the will,  
To save you from the Sentence of the Law.  
The Lords that are to be your equal Judges,  
The House has chose already, and to morrow,  
So soon your Trial is to be. The People  
Cry loud for Justice; therefore I'll no more  
Repeat my wrongs, but think you are the man  
That once was Loyal.  Ess. 
Once!—  Queen. 
Hold— For that Reason I will not upbraid you;  
To Triumph o'er a miserable man  
Is base in any, in a Queen far worse—  
Speak now my Lord, and think what's in my Power  
That may not wrong your Queen, and I will Grant you—  
So— I am sure in this I have not erred.  [Aside. Ess. 
Blessed be my Queen in Mercy rich as Heaven—  
Now, now my Chains are light— Come welcome Death,  
Come all you Spirits of Immortality,  
And waft my Soul unto his bright abode,  
That gives my Queen this Goodness: Let me then  
Most humbly and devoutly ask Two things,  
The First is, if I am Condemned,  
That Execution may be done within  
The Tower Walls, and so I may not suffer  
Upon a Public Scaffold to the World.  Queen. 
I Grant it— O, and wish I could do more.  [Aside. Ess. 
Eternal Blessings Crown your Royal Head,  
The next, the extremest Bliss my Soul can Covet  
And carry with it to the other World,  
As a firm Passport to the Powers incensed,  
Say you have Pardoned me, and have forgot  
The Rage, the Guilt, and folly of your Essex.  Queen. 
Ha! What shall I do now!  
Look to thyself, and Guard thy Character—  Aside. 
Go cure your Fame, and make yourself but what I wish you,  
Than you shall find that I am still your Queen—  
But that you may not see I'm Covetous  
Of my Forgiveness, take it from my Heart;  
I freely Pardon now what e'er you've done  
Amiss to me, and hope you will be quitted;  
Nay I not only hope it, but shall Pray for it,  
My Prayers to Heaven shall be that you may clear  
Yourself.  Ess. 
O most Renowned and Godlike Mercy!  
O let me go, your goodness is too bright  
For sinful Eyes like mine, or like the Fiend  
Of Hell, when dashed from the Aetherial Light,  
I shall shoot downwards with my weight of Curses,  
Cleave and be Chained for ever to the Centre.—  Queen. 
He is going, I, but whether? To his Trial,  
To be Condemned perhaps, and then to die;  
If so, what Mercy hast thou showed in that!  
Pity and Pardon! Poor Amends for Life!  
If those be well, a Crocodile is blameless  
That weeps for Pity, yet devours his Prey.  
And dare not I do more for Essex, I  
That am a Woman, and in Womankind  
pity's their Nature; therefore I'm resolved  
It shall be in's own Power to Save his Life.  
If I shall sin in this, Witness just Heaven  
'Tis Mercy like yourselves that draws me to't,  Aside. 
And you'll forgive me, though the World may not—  
My Lord, perhaps we ne'er may meet again,  
And you in Person may not have the Power  
T'implore what I too freely Grant you, therefore  
That you may see you have not barely forced  
An empty Pity from me, Here's a Pledge,  
I give it from my Finger with this Promise,  
That whensoever you return this Ring,  [Gives him a Ring. 
To Grant in lieu of it what e'er you ask.  Ess. 
Thus I receive it with far greater Joy  [Receives it on his knees. 
Than the poor Remnant of Mankind that saw  
The Rainbow Token in the heavens', when straight  
The Floods abated, and the Hills appeared,  
And a new smiling World the Waves brought forth.  Queen. 
No more, begun, fly with thy safety hence,  
Lest horrid, dread Repentance seize my Soul,  
And I recall this strange misdeed— Here take  [Enter the rest with the Guards.] 
Your Prisoner, there he is, to be Condemned  
Or quited by the Law— Away with him.  [Exeunt Guard with the Earl.] 
Now Nottingam, thy Queen is now at rest,  
And Essex Fate is now my least of Troubles.  Enter Countess of Essex running and Weeping, then kneels before the Queen and holds her by her Robe. C. Ess. 
Where is my Queen? Where is my Royal Mistress?—  
I throw myself for mercy here.  Queen. 
What meanest thou!  C. Ess. 
Here I will kneel, here with my humble Body  
Fast rooted to the Earth as I'm to sorrow,  
No moisture but my tears to nourish me,  
Nor Air but sighs, till I shall grow at last  
Like a poor shriveled Trunk blasted with Age  
And Grief, and never think to rise again  
Till I've obtained the Mercy I implore.  Queen. 
Thou dost amaze me.  C. Ess. 
Here let me grow the Abject'st thing on Earth,  
A despised Plant beneath the mighty Cedar;  
Yet if you will not pity me I swear  
These Arms shall never cease, but grasping still  
Your Royal Robe, shall hold you thus for ever.  Queen. 
Prithee be quick and tell me what thou'dst have.  C. Ess. 
I dare not, yet I must— My silence will  
Be Death, my Punishment can be no more.  
Prepare to hear, but learn to pity first,  
For 'tis a Story that will start your Patience.—  
O save the Earl of Essex, save his Life,  
My Lord whom you've condemned to Prisons straight,  
And save my Life, who am no longer Rutland,  
But Essex Faithful Wife— He is my Husband.  Queen. 
Thy Husband!  C. Ess. 
Yes, too true it is I fear,  
By th' awful darting Fury in your Eyes,  
The threatning Prologue of our utter Ruins.  
Married we were in secret ere my Lord  
Was sent by you t'his fatal Government  
in Ireland.  Queen. 
Then thou art Wedded to thy Grave—  
Dost think by this, in multiplying Treasons,  
And boldly braveing me with them before  
My Face, to save thy wicked Husband's Life?  
What will my restless Fate do with me now!  [Aside. 
Why dost thou hold me so? take off thy hands.  C. Ess. 
Alas, I ask not mine; if that will please you  
I'll glut you with my torments; act what e'er  
Your Fury caninvent; but 'tis for him,  
My Lord, my Love, the Soul of my Desires.  
My Love's not like the common Rate of womens',  
It is a Phoenix, there's not one such more:  
How gladly would I burn like that rare Bird,  
So that the Ashes of my Heart could purchase  
Poor Essex Life and Favour of my Princess.  Queen. 
Would I were loose 'mong wild's, or any where  
In any Hell but this— Why say I Hell?  
Can there be melting Lead, or Sulphur yet  
To add more Pain to what my Breast endures!  [Aside. 
Why dost thou hang on me, and tempt me still?  C. Ess. 
O throw me not away— Would you but please  
To feel my throbbing Breast, you might perceive,  
At every name, and very thought of Essex,  
How my Blood starts, and Pulses beat for fear,  
And shake and tear my Body like an Earthquake,  
And ah, which cannot choose but stir your heart  
The more to pity me, th'unhappy frighted Infant,  
The tender Offspring of our guilty Joys,  
Pleads for its Father in the very Womb,  
As now its wretched Mother does.  Queen. 
Quickly  
Unloose her Hands, and take her from my sight.  C. Ess. 
O you will not— you'll hear me first, and grant me,  
Grant me poor Essex Life— Shall Essex live?  
Say, but you'll Pardon him before I go?—  Queen. 
Help me— Will no one ease me of this Burden?  C. Ess. 
Oh I'm too weak for these inhuman Creatures,  [The Women take off her hold. 
My strength's decayed, my Joints and Fingers numbed,  
And can no longer hold, but fall I must.  
Thus like a miserable Wretch that thinks  
H'as scaped from drowning, holding on a Rock  
With fear and Pain, and his own weight oppressed,  
And dashed by every Wave that shrinks his hold,  [She falls down with faintness.] 
At length le's go, and drops into the Sea,  
And cries for help, but all in vain like me.  Queen. 
begone, and be delivered of thy shame,  
Let the vile Insect live, and grow to be  
A Monster baser, hotter, worser far  
Than the ingrateful Parents that begot it.  C. Ess. 
Ah cruel most remorceless Princess hold,  
What has It done to draw such Curses from you!  Queen. 
Go, let her be close Prisoner in her Chamber.  C. Ess. 
Since I must go, and from my Essex part,  
Despair and Death at once come seize my Heart;  
Shut me from Light, from Day, ne'er to be seen,  
By humane kind, nor my more cruel Queen;  
Yet bless her Heaven, and hear my Loyal Prayer,  
May you ne'er Love like me, nor ne'er despair,  
ne'er see the Man at his departing Breath  
Whom you so Love, and fain would save from Death;  
Lest Heaven be Deaf as you are to my Cry,  
And you run mad, and be as cursed as I.  [Exit C. Essez, carried away by Women. Queen. 
She's gone, but at her parting shot a truth  
Into my Breast, has pierced my Soul.—  
Why was I Queen? And why was I not Rutland?  
Then had my Princess, as myself did now,  
Given Essex such a Ring, and the Reward  
Had then been mine as now the Torment is—  
O wretched State of Monarchs! theirs is still  
The Business of the World, and all the Pains,  
Whilst happy Subjects sleep beneath their Gains;  
The meanest Hind rules in his humble House,  
And nothing but the Day fees what he does,  
But Princes, like the Queen of Night so high,  
Their spots are seen by every Vulgar Eye;  
And as the Sun, the Planets glorious King,  
giveth life and growth to every Mortal thing,  
And by his Motion all the World is blessed,  
Whilst he himself can never be at Rest;  
So if there are such Blessings in a Throne,  
King's Reign 'em down, while they themselves have none.  Exeunt Omnes 
Finis Act us Quarti.   

Actus Quintus. Scoena prima.  Sir Walter Raleigh with the Queen's Guards, The Lieutenant of the Tower. Raw. 
MR. Lieutenant, here expires my Charge;  
I received Orders from Her Majesty,  
And the Lord Steward to return the Prisoners  
Safe in your Custody, and with you I leave 'em,  
With charge to have 'em in a readiness,  
For Execution will be very speedy.  Lieut. 
I shall Sir.  Enter the Countess of Nottingham. Raw. 
Ha! the Lady Nottingham!  
What makes her here?  Nott. 
Where is my Lord of Essex?  
I am commanded straight to speak with him,  
And bring a Message from Her Majesty.  Raw. 
Madam,  
What News can this strange visit bring?  
How fairs the Queen? Are her Resolves yet steadfast?  Nott. 
No, when she heard that Essex was Condemned,  
She started and looked pale, then blushing red,  
And said that Execution should be straight,  
Then stopped, and said she'd hear first from the Earl:  
So she retired and passed an hour in Thought,  
None daring t'interrupt her till in haste  
She sent for me, Commanding me to go  
And tell my Lord from her, she could resist  
No longer her Subjects loud demands for Justice,  
And therefore wished if he had any Reasons  
That were of weight to stay his Execution,  
That he would send 'em straight by me; then blushed  
Again, and sighed, and pressed my hand,  
And prayed me to be secret, and deliver  
What Essex should return in answer to her.  Raw. 
I know not what she means, but doubt th'Event;—  
You can tell best the cause of her disturbance.  
I will to Burleigh, and then both of us  
Will make Attempts to recollect the Queen.  Exit Raleigh and Guards. Nott. 
Pray bring me to my Lord.  Lieut. 
Madam, I will acquaint him that you're here.  Exit Lieut. Nott. 
Now Dragon's Blood distil through all my veins,  
And Gaul instead of Milk swell up my Breasts,  
That nothing of the Woman may appear,  
But horrid Cruelty, and fierce Revenge—  Enter Essex. 
He comes with such a Gallantry and Port,  
As if his Miseries were Harbingers,  
And Death the State to set his Person out—  
Wrongs less than mine, though in a Tyger's Breast,  
Might now be reconciled to such an Object;  
But slighted Love my Sex can ne'er forget.  Ess. 
Madam, this is a Miracle of Favour,  
A double goodness in my Royal Mistress,  
T employ the fair, the Injured Nottingham;  
And 'tis no less in you to condescend  
To see a wretch like me that has deserved  
No favour at your hands.  Nott. 
No more my Lord, the Queen,  
The Gracious Queen commends her Pity to you,  
Pity by me that owe a great deal more  
You know, and wish that I were once your Queen,  
To give you what my heart has had so long in store.  Ess. 
Then has my Death more Charms than Life can promise,  
Since my Queen pities me, and you forgive me.  Nott. 
Hold good my Lord, that is not all, she sends  
To know if you can any thing propose  
To mitigate your Doom, and stay your Death,  
Which else can be no longer than this Day.  
Next if you're satisfied with every passage  
In your late Trial, if 'twere fair and legal,  
And if you've those Exceptions that are real  
She'll answer them?  Ess. 
Still is my Death more welcome,  
And Life would be a burden to my Soul,  
Since I can ne'er requite such Royal Goodness  
Tell her then, fair and charitable Messenger,  
That Essex does acknowledge every Crime,  
His Guilt unworthy of such wondrous Mercy,  
Thanks her bright Justice, and the Lords his Judges,  
For all was Gracious and Divine like her;  
And I have now no Injustice to accuse,  
Nor Enemy to blame that was the Cause,  
Nor Innocence to save me but the Queen.  Nott. 
Ha is this true! How he undoes my Hopes!  [Aside. 
And is that all? have you not one Request  
To ask, that you can think the Queen will grant you?  Ess. 
I have, and humbly 'tis that she would please  
To spare my Life; not that I fear to die,  
But in submission to her Heavenly Justice.  
I own my Life a forfeit to her Power,  
And therefore aught to beg it of her Mercy.  Nott. 
If this be real, my Revenge is lost.  [Aside. 
Is there naught else that you rely upon,  
Only submitting to the Queen's mere Mercy,  
And barely asking her so great a Grace?  
Have you no other Hopes?  Ess. 
Some Hopes I have.  Nott. 
What are they, pray my Lord? declare 'em boldly,  
For to that only purpose I am sent.  Ess. 
Than I am happy, happiest of mankind,  
Blessed in the rarest mercy of my Queen,  
And such a Friend as you, blessed in you both;  
The Ecstasy will let me hold no longer—  
Behold this Ring the Passport of my Life;  
At last you've pulled the secret from my Heart,  
This precious token—  
Amidst my former Triumphs in her favour  
She took from off her Finger, and bestowed  
On me— Mark, with the Promise of a Queen,  
Of her bright self less failing than an Oracle,  
That in what Exigence or State soe'er  
My Life was in, that time when I gave back,  
Or should return this Ring again to her,  
She'd then deny me nothing I could ask.  Nott. 
O give it me my Lord, and quickly let  
Me bear it to the Queen, and ask your Life.  Ess. 
Hold generous Madam, I received it on  [Kneels and gives Nottingham the Ring. 
My Knees, and on my Knees I will restore it.  
Here take it, but consider what you take:  
'Tis the Life, Blood, and very Soul of Essex.  
I've heard that by a skilful Artist's Hand,  
The Bowels of a Wretch were taken out,  
And yet he lived; you are that Gallant Artist,  
O touch it as you would the Seals of Life,  
And give it to my Royal Mistress Hand,  
As you would pour my Blood back in its empty Channels,  
That gape and thirst like Fishes on the Ouse  
When streams run dry, and their own Element  
Forsakes 'em; if this should in the least miscarry,  
My Life's the purchase that the Queen will have for't.  Nott. 
Doubt you my care my Lord? I hope you do not.  Ess. 
I will no more suspect my Fate, nor you:  
Such Beauty, and such Merits must prevail.  Enter a Gentleman. Gent. 
Th'Earl of Southampton having Leave,  
Desires to speak with you my Lord.  Nott. 
Repose  
Your mind, and take no thought but to be happy;  
I'll send you Tidings of a lasting Life.  Ess. 
A longer and much happier Life attend  
Both my good Queen and you.  Exit Essex. Nott. 
Farewell my Lord—  
Yes, a much longer Life than thine I hope,  
And if thou chance to dream of such strange things,  
Let it be there where lying Poets feign  
Elysium is, where Myrtles lovely spread,  
Trees of delicious Fruit invite the Taste,  
And sweet Arabian Plants delight the smell,  
Where pleasant Gardens dressed with curious Care  
By Lovers Ghosts, shall recreate thy Fancy,  
And there perhaps thou soon shalt meet again  
With amorous Rutland, for she cannot choose  
But be Romantic now, and follow thee—  Enter a Gentlewoman. Wom. 
Madam, the Queen.  Nott. 
Ha! that's unlucky— She come to the Tower!  
Yet 'tis no matter; see him I am sure  
She will not, or at worst will be persuaded.  Enter the Queen. Queen. 
How now dear Nottingham, hast seen the Earl?  
I left Whitehall, because I could not rest  
For Crowds that hollowed for their Executions,  
And others that Petitioned for the Traitors.  
Quick, tell me, hast thou done as I commanded?  Nott. 
Yes Madam, I have seen, and spoke with him.  Queen. 
And what has he said to thee for himself?  Nott. 
At my first converse with him I did find him  
Not totally despairing, nor complaining;  
But yet a haughty melancholy  
Appeared in all his Looks, that showed him rather  
Like one that had more Care  
Of future Life than this.  Queen. 
Well, but what said he,  
When thou awakest him with the Hopes of Pity?  Nott. 
To my first Question put by your Command,  
Which was to know if he were satisfied  
In the proceedings of his Lawful Trial,  
He answered with a careless Tone and Gesture,  
That it was true, and he must needs confess  
His Trial looked most fair to all the World;  
But yet he too well knew,  
The Law that made his Actions Treason,  
Consulted but with Foes and Circumstances,  
And never took from Heaven, or Essex Thoughts  
A Precedent, or Cause that might Condemn him,  
For if they had the least been read in either,  
They would have quickly found his Innocence.  Queen. 
Ha!  Nott. 
That was but the Prologue, mark what follows.  Queen. 
What, durst he be so bold to brand my Justice!  Nott. 
I prayed that he would urge that Sense no more.  
But since he was Condemned and stood in need  
Of Mercy, to implore it of your Majesty,  
And beg his Life which you would not deny:  
For to that End I said that you were pleased  
To send me to him, and then told him all,  
Nay more than you commanded me to say.  Queen. 
What said he then? That altered him I hope.  Nott. 
No, not at all, but as I've seen a Lion  
That has been played withal with gentle strokes,  
Has at the last been jested into madness;  
So on a sudden started into Passion  
The furious Earl, his Eyes grew fiery red,  
His words precipitate, and speech disordered;  
Let the Queen have my Blood said he, 'tis that  
She longs for, pour it to my Foes to drink,  
As Hunters when the Quarry is run down,  
Throw to the Hounds his Entrails for Reward.  
I have enough to spare, but by the heavens'  
I swear, were all my Veins like Rivers full,  
And if my Body held a Sea of Blood,  
I'd lose it all to the last innocent drop,  
Before I'd like a Villain beg my Life.  Queen. 
Hold Nottingham, and say thouart not in earnest—  
Can this be true, so impudent a Traitor!  Nott. 
That's but the Gloss, the Colour of his Treason,  
But after he did paint himself to th'Life.  
Would the Queen, said he, have me own a Treason,  
Impose upon myself a Crime, the Law  
Has found my Guilty of by her Command;  
And so by asking of my Forfeit Life,  
Clear and Proclaim her Justice to the World,  
And stain myself for ever; no I'll die first.  Queen. 
Enough, I'll hear no more, you wrong him, 'tis  
Impossible he should be such a Devil.  Nott. 
Madam I've done.  Queen. 
I prithee pardon me—  
But could he say all this!  Nott. 
He did, and more;  
But 'tis no matter, 'twill not be believed  
If I should tell the half of what he uttered,  
How insolent, and how prosane he used you.  Queen. 
You need not, I had rather  
Believe it all than put you to the trouble  
To tell it o'er again, and me to hear it.  
Then I am lost, betrayed by this false Man,  
My Courage, Power, my Pity, all betrayed,  
And like that Giant, Patriarch of the Jews,  
bereavest at once both of his sight and strength  
By Treacherous Foes, I wander in the dark,  
By Essex weakened, and by Essex blinded;  
But then as he prayed that his strength might grow,  
At once to be revenged on them and die,  
So grant me Heaven but so much Resolution  
To grope my way where I may lay but hold  
On whatsoever this huge Colossus stands,  
I'll pull the Scaffold down, though o'er my Head,  
And lose my Life to be revenged on his—  Aside. 
Well Nottingham, I have but one word more,  
Talked not this wicked Creature of no Reason,  
No Obligation that I had to save  
His Life?  Nott. 
No, but far worse than I have told you.  Queen. 
Sure thou art most unhappy in ill News!  
No promise, nor no token did he speak of?  Nott. 
Not the least word, and if there are such things,  
I do suppose he keeps 'em to himself  
For Reasons that I know not.  Queen. 
'Tis most false,  
He needs must tell thee all, and thou betrayest him.  Nott. 
Your Majesty does me wrong—  Queen. 
Hear me—  
Oh I can hold no longer— Say, sent he  
No Ring, no Token, nor no Message by thee?  Nott. 
Not any on the forfeit of my Life.  Queen. 
Thou liest— Can Earth produce so vile a Creature!—  
Hence from my sight, and see my Face no more—  
Yet tarry Nottingham— Come back again.  
This may be true, and I am still the Wretch  [Aside. 
To blame and to be pitied— Prithee pardon me;  
Forget my Rage, thy Queen is sorry for't.  Nott. 
I would your Majesty in stead of me,  
Had sent a Person that you could confide in,  
Or else that you would see the Earl yourself.  Queen. 
Prithee no more; Go to him!  
No, but I'll send a Message for his Head.  
His Head's the Token that my wrongs require,  
And his base blood the stream to quench my Fury.—  
Prithee invent: for thou art wondrous witty  
At such inventions; teach my feeble malice  
How to torment him with a thousand Deaths,  
Or what is worse than Death— Speak, my Medea,  
And thou wilt then oblige thy Queen for ever.  Nott. 
First Sign an Order for his Execution.  Queen. 
Say, it is done, but how to torture him!  Nott. 
Then as the Lords are carrying to the Block,  
Condoleing both their sad Misfortunes,  
Which to departing Souls is some delight,  
Order a Pardon for Southampton's Life,  
It will be worse than Hell to Essex Soul  
Where 'tis a going, to see his Friend snatched from him,  
And make him curse his so much Pride and folly  
That lost his own Life, in exchange for his.  Queen. 
That was well thought on!  Nott. 
This is but the least.  
The next will be a fatal stroke, a blow indeed,  
A thousand Heads to lose is not so dreadful.  
Let Rutland see him at the very Moment  
Of her Expiring Husband; she will hang  
Worse than his Guilt upon him, lure his Mind,  
And pull it back to Earth again; double  
All the fierce Pangs of thought and Death upon him,  
And make his loaded Spirits sink to Hell.  Queen. 
O thouart the Machiavile of all thy Sex,  
Thou bravest, most heroic for Invention!  
Come, let's dispatch—  Enter Burleigh, Raleigh, Lords, Attendants, and Guards, 
My Lords, see Execution done on Essex;  
But for Southampton, I will pardon him;  
His Crimes he may repent of; they were not  
So great, but done in friendship to the other.  
Act my Commands with speed, that both of us  
May straight be out of Torment— My Lord Burleigh,  
And you Sir Walter Raleigh see't performed;  
I'll not return till you have brought the News.  [Exeunt Queen and Nottingham. Raw. 
I would she were a hundred League froms hence,  
Well, and the Crown upon her Head; I fear  
She'll not continue in this mind a Moment.  Burl. 
Thened shall be done this Moment— Who attends?  
Bid the Lieutenant have his Prisoners ready.  Exit Officer. 
Now we may hope to see fair Days again  
In England, when this hovering Cloud is vanished,  
Which hung so long betwixt our Royal Sun  
And us, but soon will visit us with smiles,  
And raise her drooping Subjects Hearts—  Enter the two Earls, the Lieutenant and Guards. 
My Lord,  
We bring an Order for your Execution,  
And hope you are prepared; for you must die  
This very hour.  South. 
Indeed the time is sudden!—  Ess. 
Is Death th'Event of all my flattered Hopes!  
False Sex, and Queen more perjured than them all!—  
But die I will without the least Complaint,  
My Soul shall vanish silent as the Dew  
Attracted by the Sun from verdant Fields,  
And leaves of weeping Flowers— Come my dear Friend,  
Partner in Fate, give me thy Body in  
These Faithful Arms, and O now let me tell thee  
And you, my Lords, and heaven's mies Witness too,  
I have no weight, no heaviness on my Soul,  
But that I've lost my dearest Friend his Life.  South. 
And I protest by the same Powers Divine,  
And to the World, 'tis all my Happiness,  
The greatest Bliss my mind yet e'er enjoyed,  
Since we must die my Lord, to die together.  Burl. 
The Queen, my Lord Southampton, has been pleased  
To grant particular Mercy to your Person;  
And has by us sent you a Reprieve from Death,  
With Pardon of your Treasons, and commands  
You to depart immediately from hence.  South. 
O my unguarded Soul! Sure never was  
A man with mercy wounded so before.  Ess. 
Then I am loose to steer my wandering Voyage,  
Like a glad Vessel that has long been crossed,  
And bound by adverse Winds, at last gets liberty,  
And joyfully makes all the Sail she can  
To reach its wished-for Port— Angels protect  
The Queen; for her my chiefest Prayers shall be,  
That as in time sh'as spared my Noble Friend,  
And owns his Crimes worth Mercy, may she ne'er  
Think so of me too late when I am dead—  
Again Southampton, let me hold thee fast,  
For 'tis my last Embrace.  South. 
O be less kind my Friend, or move less Pity,  
Or I shall sink beneath the weight of sadness;  
Witness the Joy I have in Life to part  
With you; witness these Woman's Throbs and Tears;  
I weep that I am doomed to live without you,  
And should have smiled to share the Death of Essex.  Ess. 
O spare this tenderness for one that needs it,  
For her that I'll commit to all that I  
Can claim of my Southampton— O my Wife!  
Methinks that very name should stop thy Pity,  
And make thee covetous of all as lost  
That is not meant to her— Be a kind Friend  
To her as we have been to one another;  
Name not the dying Essex to thy Queen  
Lest it should cost a Tear, nor ne'er offend her.  South. 
O stay my Lord, let me have one word more;  
One last farewell before the greedy Axe  
Shall part my Friend, my only Friend from me,  
And Essex from himself— I know not what  
Are called the Pangs of Death, but sure I am  
I feel an Agony that's worse than Death—  
Farewell.  Ess. 
Why that's well said— Farewell to thee—  
Then let us part, just like two Travelers  
Take distant Paths, only this difference is,  
Thine is the longest, mine the shortest way—  
Now let me go— If there's a Throne in Heaven.  
For the most brave of Men, and best of Friends,  
I will bespeak it for Southampton.  South. 
And I, while I have Life will hoard thy Memory;  
When I am dead, we then shall meet again.  Ess. 
Till then Farewell.  South. 
Till then Farewell.  Ess. 
Now on my Lords, and execute your Office—  [Exit South. Enter Countess of Essex and Women. 
My Wife! Nay then my Stars will ne'er have done.  
Malicious Planets reign, I'll bear it all  
To your last drop of Venom on my Head—  
Why cruel lovely Creature dost thou come  
To add to sorrow if't be possible:  
A Figure more lamenting? Why this kindness,  
This killing kindness now at such a time.  
To add more Woes to thine and my misfortunes.  C. Ess. 
The Queen my Lord has been so merciful,  
Or cruel, name it as you please, to let  
Me see my Essex e'er he dies.  Ess. 
Has she,  
Then let's improve this very little Time  
Our niggard Fate allows us: For we're owing  
To this short space all the dear love we had  
In store for many happy promised years.  C. Ess. 
What hinders then but that we should be happy,  
Whilst others live long years, and sip, and taste  
Like Niggard's of their Loves, we'll take whole Draughts.  Ess. 
Then let's embrace in Ecstasies and Joys,  
Drink all our Honey up in one short moment,  
That should have served us for our Winter store,  
Be lavish, and profuse like wanton Heirs  
That waste their whole Estates at once,  
For the kind Queen takes care and has ordained  
That we shall never live to want.  Burl. 
My Lord,  
Prepare, the very utmost Time's at hand,  
And we must straight perform the Queen's Command  
In leading you to Justice.  C. Ess. 
Hold good Lucifer,  
Be kind a little, and defer Damnation,  
Thou canst not think how I will Worship thee,  
No Indian shall adore thee as I will,  
Thou shalt have Martyrs, and whole Hecatombs  
Of slaughtered Innocents to suck their Blood,  
Widows Estates, and Orphans without number,  
Manors and Parks more than thy Lust requires,  
Till thou shalt die and leave a King's Estate  
Behind thee.  Ess. 
Pray thee spare thy precious Heart,  
That fluttering so with Passion in thy Breast,  
Has almost bruised its tenderness to Death.  C. Ess. 
Why ask I him, and think of Pity there!  
From him on whom kind Heaven has fet a Mark,  
A heap of Rubbish at the door to show  
No cleanly Virtue can inhabit there—  
Malicious Toad, and which is worse, foul Cecil,  
I tell thee Essex soon shall reign in Heaven,  
While thou shalt grovel in the Den of Hell,  
Roar like the Damned, and tremble to behold him.  
Go share Dominions with the Powers of Hell;  
For Lucifer himself will ne'er dispute  
Thy great Desert in wickedness above him,  
Nor who's the uglyer Fiend, thyself or he.  Raw. 
My Lord, you think not of the Queen's Commands,  
And can you stand thus unconcerned, and hear  
Yourself so much abused.  Burl. 
Be patient Raleigh,  
The Pain is all her own, and hurts not Cecil,  
She will be weary sooner than myself—  
Poor ionocent and most unhappy Lady,  
I pity her.  C. Ess. 
Why dost thou pity me!  
Nay then I'm fallen into a low Estate  
Indeed; if Hell compassionates my Miseries,  
They must be greater than the Damned endure—  
I Prithee Pardon me— Ah my loved Lord,  
My Heart begins to break; let me go with thee,  
And see the fatal Blow given to my Essex,  
That will be sure to rid me soon of Torments;  
And 'twill be kindness in thee— do my Lord,  
Then we shall both be quit of pain together.  Ess. 
Ah why was I condemned to this, What Man  
But Essex ever felt a weight like this!  C. Ess. 
O we must never part— Support my Head,  
My sinking Head, and lay it to the Pulse,  
The throbbing Pulse that beats about thy Heart,  
'Tis Music to my Senses— O my Love!  
I have no tears left in me that should ease  
A wretch that longs for Pity— I am passed  
All Pity, and my poor tormented Heart  
And Spirits within are quite consumed; and Tears  
Which is the Balm, the Scorpion's blood that cures  
The biting pain of sorrow, quite have left me,  
And I am now a wretched hopeless Creature,  
Full of substantial Misery without  
One drop of Remedy.  Ess. 
thouart pale, thy Breath  
Grows i'll, and like the Morning Air on Roses,  
Leaves a cold Dew upon thy redder Lips—  
She strives, and holds me like a drowning wretch—  
O now my Lords, if pity ever blessed you,  
If you were never nursed by Tigers, help me—  
Now now, you cruel heavens' I plainly see,  
'Tis not your Swords, your Axes, nor Diseases,  
Which make the Death of Man so feared, and painful,  
But 'tis such horrid Accidents as these—  
She opens her Eyes, which with a waning look,  
Like sickly Stars give a faint glimmering Light.  C. Ess. 
Where is my Love?  
O think not to get loose, for I'm resolved  
To stick more close to thee than Life; and when  
That's going, mine shall run the Race with thine,  
And both together reach the happy Goal.  Ess. 
Now I am shocked, torn up, and rooted all  
That's Humane in me— What you merciless Heavens,  
What is't that makes poor Man distracted, mad,  
Profane, to curse the Day, himself, the heavens'  
That made him, but less miseries than mine?  
Why, why you Powers do you exact from Man  
More than your World, and all that live beside!  
The Sea is never calm when tempests blow,  
Tall Woods and Cedars murmur at the Wind,  
And when your horrid Earthquakes cleave the Ground,  
The Centre Groans, and Nature takes its part,  
As if they did design to break your Laws,  
And shake your Fetters off; nay your own Heavens,  
When Thunders roar, Rebel, the Sun engages,  
And all the Warring Elements resist;  
Heaven, Seas, and Land are suffered to contend,  
But Man alone is cursed if he complain—  
Farewell my everlasting Love, 'tis vain,  
'Tis all in vain against resistless Fate  
That pulls me from thee.  [Gives her a Letter. 
Here, give this Paper to the Queen, which when  
She reads, perhaps she will be kind to thee.  C. Ess. 
Wilt thou not let me go?  
I am prepared to see the deadly stroke,  
And at that time the fatal Axe falls on thee,  
It will be sure to cut the twisted Cord  
Of both our Lives asunder.  Ess. 
We must part—  
Thou Miracle of Love, and Virtues all  
Farewell, and may thy Essex sad Misfortunes  
Be doubled all in Blessings on thy Soul—  
Still, still thou grasps me like th'Fangs of Death—  
Ha! now she faints, and like a Wretch  
Striving to climb a steep, and slippery Beach,  
With many hard Attempts gets up, and still  
Slides down again, so she lets go at last  
Her eager hold, and sinks beneath her weight—  
Support her all—  Burl. 
My Lord she will recover;  
Pray leave her with her Women, and make use  
Of this so kind an Opportunity  
To part with her.  Ess. 
Cruel hard-hearted Burleigh!  
Most Barbarous Cecil.  Burl. 
See my Lord,  
She soon will come t'her self, and you must leave her—  
Haste, away.  Lieut. 
Make way there.  Ess. 
Look to her Faithful Servants, while she lives  
She'll be a tender Mistress to you all—  
Come, push me off then, since I must Swim o'er,  
Why do I stand thus shivering on the Shore!  
'Tis but a Breath, and I no more shall think,  
Mix with the Sun, or into Atoms shrink:  
Lift up thy Eyes no more in search of mine,  
Till I am dead, then glad the World with thine—  
This kiss (O that it would for for ever last!)  
Gives me of Immortality a Taste—  
Farewell,  
May all that's past when thou recover'st, seem  
Like a glad waking from a fearful Dream.  Exeunt Essex to Execution, Burleigh, Raleigh, Lieut. and Guards. Manent Countess of Essex with Women. Wom. 
See, she revives.  C. Ess. 
Where is my Essex, where?  Wom. 
Alas I fear by this time he's no more.  C. Ess. 
Why did you wake me then from such bright Objects?  
I saw my Essex mount with Angels wings,  
(Whilst I rode on the beauteous Cherubin,)  
And took me on'em, bore me o'er the World  
Through everlasting Skies, Eternal Light.  Wom. 
Be Comforted.  C. Ess. 
Sure we're the only Pair  
Can boast of such a Pomp of Misery,  
And none was e'er substantially so cursed  
Since the first Couple that knew sorrow first;  
Yet they were happy, and for Paradise  
Found a new World unskilled, unfraught with Vice,  
No Tyrant to molest 'em, nor no Sword,  
All that had Life Obedience did afford;  
No Pride but Labour there, and healthful Pains,  
Nor Thief to rob them of their honest Gains:  
Ambition now the Plague of every Thought,  
Then was not known, or else was unbegot.  Enter the Queen, Countess of Nottingham, Lords and Attendants. Queen. 
Behold where the poor Rutland lies, almost  
As dead, and low as Essex in his Grave  
Can be, and I want but a very little  
To be more miserable than 'em both—  
Rise, rise unfortunate and mournful Rutland,  
I know not what to call thee now, but wish  
I could not call thee by the name of Essex—  
Rise, and behold thy Queen I say,  
That bends to take thee in her Arms.  C. Ess. 
O never think to charm me with such sounds,  
Such hopes that are too distant from my Soul,  
For 'tis but Preaching Heaven to one that's Damned—  
O take your pity back most cruel Queen,  
Give it to those that want it for a Cure,  
My Griefs are Mortal, Remedies are vain,  
And thrown away on such a Wretch as I—  
Here is a Paper from my Lord to you  
It was his last Request that you would Read it.  Queen. 
Give't me— but oh how much more welcome had  
The Ring been in its stead.  [Reads to herself.] C. Nott. 
Ha! I'm betrayed.  [Aside. Queen. 
Hast, see if Execution yet be done,  
If not prevent it— Fly with Angels Wings—  [Officer goes out] 
Oh thou far worse than Serpent— worse than Woman!  
Ah Rutland! here's the cruel cause of both our Woes,  
Mark this, and help to Curse her for thy Husband.  The Queen reads the Letter. 
Madam, I Receive my Death with the willingness and Submission of a Subject, and as it is the will of Heaven and of Your Majesty, with this Request that you would be pleased to bestow that Royal Pity on my Poor Wife which is denied to me, and my last, flying Breath shall bless you. I have but one Thing to repent of since my Sentence, which is, that I sent the Ring by Nottingham, fearing it should once put my Queen in mind of her broken Vow. Essex.  
Repentance, Horrors, Plagues, and deadly Poisons,  
Worse than a thousand deaths torment thy Soul.  C. Nott. 
Madam—  Queen. 
Condemn me first to hear the Groans of Ghosts,  
The Croaks of Ravens, and the Damned in Torments  
Just Heaven, 'tis Music to what thou canst utter;  
begone— Fly to that utmost Verge of Earth,  
Where the Globe's bounded with Eternity,  
And never more be seen of Humane kind,  
Cursed with long Life and with a fear to die,  
With thy Guilt ever in thy Memory,  
And Essex Ghost be still before thy Eye.  C. Nott. 
I do confess—  Queen. 
Quick, bear her from my sight, her words are blasting,  
Her Eyes are Basilisks, Infection reigns  
Where ere she Breathes; go shut her in a Cave,  
Or Chain her to some Rock whole Worlds from hence,  
The distance is too near; There let her Live  
Howling to th' Seas to rid her of her pain,  
For she and I must never meet again—  
Away with her.  C. Nott, 
I go— but have this comfort in my Doom;  
I leave you all with greater Plagues at home.  Exit. Nott. Enter Burleigh and Raleigh. Burl. 
Madam your Orders came too late—  
The Earl was Dead—  Queen. 
Then I wish thou were't dead that sayst it,  
But I'll be just and curse none but myself—  
What said he when he came so soon to die?  Burl. 
Indeed his End, made so by woeful Casualties,  
Was very sad and full of pity,  
But at the Block all Hero he appeared,  
Or else, to give him a more Christian Title,  
A Martyr Armed with Resolution,  
Said little, but did bless your Majesty,  
And died full of forgiveness to the World,  
As was no doubt his Soul that soon expired.  Queen. 
Come thou choice Relickt of lamented Essex,  
Call me no more by th' name of Queen, but Friend.  
When thy dear Husband's Death Revenged shall be,  
Pity my Fate, but lay no Guilt on me,  
Since 'tis th' Almighty's Pleasure, though severe,  
To punish thus his Faithful Regent's here,  
To lay on Kings his hardest Task of Rule,  
And yet has given 'em but a Humane Soul.  
The subtle Paths of Traitor's hearts to view  
Reason's too dark, a hundred Eyes too few;  
Yet when by Subjects we have been betrayed,  
The blame is ours, their Crimes on us are laid,  
And that which makes a Monarch's happiness,  
Is not in Reigning well, but with Success.  Exeunt Omnes.   

EPILOGUE, By Mr. DRYDEN.  
WE Act by Fits and Starts, like drowning Men,  
But just Peep up, and then Dop down again;  
Let those who call us Wicked change their Sense,  
For never Men lived more on Providence,  
Not Lott'ry Cavaliers are half so poor,  
Nor Broken Cits, nor a Vacation Whore,  
Not Courts nor Courtiers living on the Rents,  
Of the Three last ungiving Parliaments.  
So wretched that if Pharaoh could Divine,  
He might have spared his Dream of Seven lean Kine,  
And changed the Vision for the Mases Nine.  
The Comet which they say Portends a Dearth,  
Was but a Vapour drawn from Playhouse Earth,  
Pent here since our last Fire, and Lily says,  
Fore-shows our change of State and thin Third days.  
'Tis not our want of Wit that keeps us Poor,  
For then the Printers Press would suffer more:  
Their Pamphleteers their Venom daily spit,  
They thrive by Treason and we starve by Wit.  
Confess the truth, which of you has not laid  To the Upper Gallery. 
Four Farthings out to buy the Hatfield Maid?  
Or what is duller yet, and more to spite us,  
Democritus his Wars with Heraclitus?  
These are the Authors that have run us down,  
And Exercise you Critics of the Town;  
Yet these are Pearls to your Lampooning Rhimes,  
Y' abuse yourselves more dully than the Times;  
Scandal, the Glory of the English Nation,  
Is worn to Rags and scribbled out of Fashion;  
Such harmless thrasts, as if like Foncers Wise,  
You had agreed your Play before the Prize.  
Faith you may hang your Harps upon the Willows,  
'Tis just like Children when they Box with Pillows.  
Then put an end to Civil Wars for shame,  
Let each Knight Errand who has wronged a Dame,  
Throw down his Pen, and give her if he can,  
The satisfaction of a Gentleman.   

PROLOGUE, Intended to be spoken, Written by the Author.  
'tIS said, when the Renowned Augustus Reigned,  
That all the World in Peace and Wealth Remained,  
And though the School of Action, War was o'er,  
Arms, Arts, and Letter's then increased the more.  
All these sprung from our Royal Virgin's Bays,  
And flourished better than in Caesar's Days;  
And only in her time at once was seen  
So brave a Soldier, Statesman, and a Queen.  Essex and Burleigh. 
Her Reign may be compared to that above,  
As the best Poet, Caesar's did to Jove:  
For as great Julius built the mighti'st Throne,  
And left Rome's first large Empire to his Son,  
Under whose weight, till her, we all did groan;  
So her great Father was the first that struck  
Rome's Triple Crown; but she threw off the Yoke:  
Straight at her Birth new Light the heavens' adorned,  
Which more than Fifteen hundred years had mourned.—  
But hold, I 'em bid to let you understand,  
That when our Poet took this work in Hand,  
He trembled straight like Prophets in a Dream,  
Her awful Genius stood, and threatened him;  
Her modest Beauties only he has shown,  
And has her Character so nicely drawn,  
That if herself in purest Robes of Light,  
Should come from Heaven, and bless us with her sight,  
She would not blush to hear what he has Writ.  
Therefore—  
To all the shining Sex this Play's addressed,  
But more the Court, the Planets of the rest;  
You who on Earth are Man's best, softest Fate,  
So that when Heaven with some ruff Peace has met,  
It sends him you to would, and new Create.  
Strange ways to Virtue, some may think to prove,  
But yet the best, and surest Path is Love;  
Love like the Ermine, is so nice a Guest,  
It never enters in a vicious Breast—  
If you are pleased, we will be bold to say,  
This modest Poem is the Ladies Play.  
FINIS.   

A Catalogue of some Plays Printed for R. Bently, and M. Magnes, in Russel-Street, near Covent-Garden.  

ALL the Tragedies and Comedies of Francis Beumont and john Flesher, in one Volume, containing fifty one Plays.  
Tartuff, or the French, Puritan.  
Forced Marriage, or the Jealous Bride.  
English Monsieur.  
All Mistaken, or the mad Couple.  
Generous Enemies.  
Andromacha; A Tragedy.  
Calisto: or the Masque at Court.  
Country-Wit. A Comedy.  
Destruction of jerusalem, 2 parts.  
Miseries of Civil War.  
Henry the 6th. with the Murder of the Duke of Gloucester, in 2 parts.  
Nero, a Tragedy.  
Gloriana, a Tragedy.  
Sophonisba, or Hanibals overthrow.  
Alexander the Great, or the Rival Queens.  
Mithridates' King of Pontus.  
Caesar Borgia, Son of Pope Alexander 6.  
Oedipus' King of Thebes.  
Theodosius, or the Force of Love.  
The Plain Dealer.  
The Town-Fop, or Sir Timothy Taudry.  
Abdellazar or the Moors Revenge.  
Madam Fickle: or the Witty False one.   

Books Printed this Year.  
The Fond Husband, or the Plotting Sisters.  
The Virtuous, Wife or good luck at last.  
The Fool turned Critic, a Comedy.  
Squire Oldsap, or the Night Adventurers.  
The Mistaken Husband, a Comedy.  
Mr. Limberham, or the Kind Keeper.  
Notes and observations on the Empress of Morocco.  
The Orphan, or unhappy Marriage.  
The Soldier's Fortune.  
Sertorius. A Tragedy.  
Tamburlaine the Great.  
King Lear.  
The Unhappy Favourite, or the Earl of Essex.  
Thyestes, a Tragedy.  
Othello, the Moor of Venice.   

Novels Printed this Year, 1680.  
The Amours of the King of Tamaran.  
The Amours of the French King and Madam Lanilar.  
The Amours of Madam and the Count de-Guich.  
The Pilgrim: A Satirical Novel on the horrible Villainies of those Persons.  
The Secret History of the Earl of Essex and Queen Elizabeth.  
The Policy of the Clergy of France, to suppress the Protestants of that Kingdom.