1615
Months after Marlowe’s murder, I learned that the Queen had had hirelings kill him. I confided in Raleigh as we stood on a pier, near one of his frigates...the Thames wind whipping our clothes.
How well I recall his expression when I told him. Mouth tense, eyes afire, he grabbed at the hilt of his sword and exclaimed:
“I command nine ships. How many cutthroats do you think I have at my beck and call? In a fortnight, Marlowe’s murderers will be dead. Our Queen will know that she has been out-maneuvered, that there are plotters keener than she. She killed Marlowe because he was too rabid an atheist...”
Those were vain words on Raleigh’s part: he did nothing: I did nothing. How gutter-cheap we are in times of stress, how obliterative, given to expediency, wedded to her and safety!
Next Day
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields