Sir Walter expressed his acknowledgments of his kindness, and, at the same time, revealed his love for the Queen, to whom his mission was addressed, in many flattering and dutiful expressions. Cecil readily caught at these, though seemingly inattentive, as calculated to win him the Queen’s favour, and after a while, having heard Sir Walter out, took his leave, and set forth for the palace.
He was really earnest in the interest he professed in Sir Walter’s behalf. He saw now, after a trial, that he would be unable to play upon Essex as he had imagined; and that, in fact, Essex was more likely to play upon him. Under these circumstances, he conceived that it would be advisable to attract the Queen’s favour to Raleigh again; and if he could any way compass this, he would be able, in building his own fortune, to counteract the overbearing pride of the one, in the friendly aid of the other. The seeds of dissension which he had sown between them, by reporting them to each other as enemies, would prevent their ever coming to an explanation; and in the division of their interests, he would find means and opportunity to advance himself.
Full of these speculations, the crafty double-dealer reached the palace. The Queen, he found, had already arrived thither, and was now in one of the private chambers of the palace. Having sent to her to desire an interview, she ordered him to be admitted, and he was thereupon conducted to her presence.
The Queen was alone; and, to judge from the expression of her countenance, in a humour not unfavourable to the design he had in hand. She even smiled as he bent his knee before her, and, in a gentle tone, ordered him to rise.
“Still must I kneel, most gracious liege,” answered Cecil; “for I come as a suppliant from one who, could he but see thee, would kneel here for ever, unless thou wouldst grant him thy royal pardon.”
“Ah!” cried the Queen. “What offence hath thy client committed?”
“He hath sworn by thy hand, which he holds an inviolable oath, that he hath done none wilfully, my liege,” replied Cecil. “In good sooth, he swore to ’t so movingly, ’twas quite piteous to hear him.”
“Prithee, who may he be?” inquired the Queen.
“Sir Walter Raleigh, your Highness,” said Cecil, hesitatingly.
“How now, sirrah?” cried the Queen, rising, with her eyes flashing with anger. “What assurance hast thou of my forbearance, that thus thou darest to plead for him?”