For what should I forgive thee,silly wench?said Elizabeth;for being the daughter of thine own father?Thou art brain-sick,surely.Well I see I must wring the story from thee by inches.Thou didst deceive thine old and honoured father--thy look confesses it--cheated Master Tressilian--thy blush avouches it--and married this same Varney.Amy sprung on her feet,and interrupted the Queen eagerly with,No,madam,no!as there is a God above us,I am not the sordid wretch you would make me!I am not the wife of that contemptible slave--of that most deliberate villain!I am not the wife of Varney!I would rather be the bride of Destruction!The Queen,overwhelmed in her turn by Amy's vehemence,stood silent for an instant,and then replied,Why,God ha'mercy,woman!I see thou canst talk fast enough when the theme likes thee.Nay,tell me,woman,she continued,for to the impulse of curiosity was now added that of an undefined jealousy that some deception had been practised on her--tell me,woman--for,by God's day,I WILL know--whose wife,or whose paramour,art thou!
Speak out,and be speedy.Thou wert better daily with a lioness than with Elizabeth.Urged to this extremity,dragged as it were by irresistible force to the verge of the precipice which she saw,but could not avoid --permitted not a moment's respite by the eager words and menacing gestures of the offended Queen,Amy at length uttered in despair,The Earl of Leicester knows it all.The Earl of Leicester!said Elizabeth,in utter astonishment.
The Earl of Leicester!she repeated with kindling anger.
Woman,thou art set on to this--thou dost belie him--he takes no keep of such things as thou art.Thou art suborned to slander the noblest lord and the truest-hearted gentleman in England!
But were he the right hand of our trust,or something yet dearer to us,thou shalt have thy hearing,and that in his presence.
Come with me--come with me instantly!
As Amy shrunk back with terror,which the incensed Queen interpreted as that of conscious guilt,Elizabeth rapidly advanced,seized on her arm,and hastened with swift and long steps out of the grotto,and along the principal alley of the Pleasance,dragging with her the terrified Countess,whom she still held by the arm,and whose utmost exertions could but just keep pace with those of the indignant Queen.
Leicester was at this moment the centre of a splendid group of lords and ladies,assembled together under an arcade,or portico,which closed the alley.The company had drawn together in that place,to attend the commands of her Majesty when the hunting-party should go forward,and their astonishment may be imagined when,instead of seeing Elizabeth advance towards them with her usual measured dignity of motion,they beheld her walking so rapidly that she was in the midst of them ere they were aware;and then observed,with fear and surprise,that her features were flushed betwixt anger and agitation,that her hair was loosened by her haste of motion,and that her eyes sparkled as they were wont when the spirit of Henry VIII.mounted highest in his daughter.Nor were they less astonished at the appearance of the pale,attenuated,half-dead,yet still lovely female,whom the Queen upheld by main strength with one hand,while with the other she waved aside the ladies and nobles who pressed towards her,under the idea that she was taken suddenly ill.Where is my Lord of Leicester?she said,in a tone that thrilled with astonishment all the courtiers who stood around.Stand forth,my Lord of Leicester!If,in the midst of the most serene day of summer,when all is light and laughing around,a thunderbolt were to fall from the clear blue vault of heaven,and rend the earth at the very feet of some careless traveller,he could not gaze upon the smouldering chasm,which so unexpectedly yawned before him,with half the astonishment and fear which Leicester felt at the sight that so suddenly presented itself.He had that instant been receiving,with a political affectation of disavowing and misunderstanding their meaning,the half-uttered,half-intimated congratulations of the courtiers upon the favour of the Queen,carried apparently to its highest pitch during the interview of that morning,from which most of them seemed to augur that he might soon arise from their equal in rank to become their master.
And now,while the subdued yet proud smile with which he disclaimed those inferences was yet curling his cheek,the Queen shot into the circle,her passions excited to the uttermost;and supporting with one hand,and apparently without an effort,the pale and sinking form of his almost expiring wife,and pointing with the finger of the other to her half-dead features,demanded in a voice that sounded to the ears of the astounded statesman like the last dread trumpet-call that is to summon body and spirit to the judgment-seat,Knowest thou this woman?As,at the blast of that last trumpet,the guilty shall call upon the mountains to cover them,Leicester's inward thoughts invoked the stately arch which he had built in his pride to burst its strong conjunction,and overwhelm them in its ruins.But the cemented stones,architrave and battlement,stood fast;and it was the proud master himself who,as if some actual pressure had bent him to the earth,kneeled down before Elizabeth,and prostrated his brow to the marble flag-stones on which she stood.
