Enter Lady Rutland.
Rutland, I want thy timely
Counsel. I'm importuned, and urged to punish—
But justice, sometimes, has a cruel sound.
Essex has,
No doubt, provoked my anger, and the laws;
His haughty conduct calls for sharp reproof,
And just correction. Yet I think him guiltless
Of studied treasons, or design'd rebellion.
Then, tell me, Rutland, what the world reports,
What censure says of his unruly deeds.
Rut. The world, with envy's eye, beholds his merit;
Madam, 'tis malice all, and false report.
I know his noble heart, 'tis fill'd with honour;
No trait'rous taint has touch'd his generous soul;
His grateful mind still glows with pure affection;
And all his thoughts are loyalty and you.
Qu. Eliz. I grant you, Rutland, all you say; and think
The earl possess'd of many splendid virtues.
What pity 'tis, he should afford his foes
Such frequent, sad occasions to undo him!
Rut. What human heart can, unafflicted, bear
Such manly merit in distress, beset
By cruel foes, and faction's savage cry?
My good, my gracious mistress, stretch, betimes,
Your saving arm, and snatch him from destruction,
From deadly malice, treachery, and Cecil.
Oh, let him live, to clear his conduct up!
My gracious queen, he'll nobly earn your bounty,
And with his dearest blood deserve your mercy.
Qu. Eliz. Her words betray a warm, unusual, fervour;
Mere friendship never could inspire this transport.
[Aside.
I never doubted but the earl was brave;
His life and valiant actions all declare it:
I think him honest too, but rash and headstrong.
I gladly would preserve him from his foes,
And therefore am resolved once more to see him.
Rut. Oh, 'tis a godlike thought, and Heav'n itself
Inspires it. Sure some angel moves your heart,
Your royal heart, to pity and forgiveness.
This gracious deed shall shine in future story,
And deck your annals with the brightest virtue;
Posterity shall praise the princely act,
And ages yet to come record your goodness.
Qu. Eliz. I'll hear no more—Must I then learn from you
To know my province, and be taught to move,
As each designing mind directs?—Leave me.
Rut. Her frowns are dreadful, and her eye looks terror.
I tremble for my Essex. Save him, Heav'n!
[Exit.
Qu. Eliz. Her warmth has touch'd me home. My jealous heart,
My fearful and suspicious soul's alarm'd.