ELIZABETH.
I am sorry that I have.
MORTIMER.
Excuse his age,
The old man is grown scrupulous; such bold
Adventures ask the enterprising heart
Of youth——
ELIZABETH.
And may I venture then on you——
MORTIMER.
My hand I'll lend thee; save then as thou canst
Thy reputation——
ELIZABETH.
Yes, sir; if you could
But waken me some morning with this news
"Maria Stuart, your bloodthirsty foe,
Breathed yesternight her last"——
MORTIMER.
Depend on me.
ELIZABETH.
When shall my head lie calmly down to sleep?
MORTIMER.
The next new moon will terminate thy fears.
ELIZABETH.
And be the selfsame happy day the dawn
Of your preferment—so God speed you, sir;
And be not hurt, if, chance, my thankfulness
Should wear the mask of darkness. Silence is
The happy suitor's god. The closest bonds,
The dearest, are the works of secrecy.
[Exit.