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That infuppreffive fpirit of this ifle,

Which hates injuftice, fuccours innocence,
Appals the tyrant, and proteas the opprefs'd.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

WHITEHALL.

Elizabeth feated on her Throne, attended by her Court

and Guards.

Enter CECIL.

CECIL,

ELIZABETH.

ECIL, your hafte tells me you bring advice

Of the refult of the conferrence

On Mary's caufe.

Cecil. My liege the conference

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By Norfolk, your own delegate this hour
Is fuddenly diffolved. The partial Duke,
When Herries claim'd an audience for his Queen,
Difmifs'd the Court, and juftifiéd the claim.
Eliz. Mary will never be in want of friends
While Norfolk lives.

Cecil. And how long that may be,

I know not; but can never with long life
To England's focs.---

Eliz. Of Norfolk fay you that?

Cecil. Not as a charge direct, of any crime
Within the grafp of law: but when a Duke
So highly honour'd by his Queen fhall plot
In late affairs.-

Eliz. What mean thefe hints? Explain.

[Defcending from her Throne. Cecil. The Duke arrives from Bolton, the Lord

1

Scrope's.

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Eliz. Indeed! I own the vifit was ill tim’d. Cecil. Or flow'd it purely from fraternal love? Eliz. Why, Cecil, you delight in dark surmise! Norfolk's an open undefigning man;

His friendships and diflikes are all avow'd.

Cecil. Soft clay takes deep impreffion-Flexible To any shape, is moulded easily :

And facil, honeft minds, when caught by love,
Exchange their native qualities for those
Which fuit their new defigns.-

Eliz. Speak you of love?

Cecil. Aye, mutual, in all its forms declar'd; Clofe correfpondence.

Eliz. Oh, accurfed news!

Oh, all feducing harlot !-Wanton Wretch !
Can none escape the fafcinating looks
Of this attracting bafilifk? muit fhe-
Cecil! this inftant iffue my cominands
For clofer cuftody; feek Shrewsbury;
Tell him to take her from the Lady Scrope,
Her Norfolk's fifter, and from Bolton ftraight
Proceed to Tutbury's ftrong fortress: there
Let her be guarded fafe-begone--no-ftop,
Cecil, be fure you do not trifle here.
I would not have your wary character
Blemish'd, by joining in the babiing cry
Of every politic officious knave,

Seeking reward for premature reports: » What proof have you of this?

Cecil. Ere long compleat;

Till then, my faithful word; but let not hafte
Mar the discovery-Plots there are befides
Of blacker dye, not flowing from the Duke,
But from the reftlefs fpirit of the church,
Whofe midnight conclave brooding in the dark,
Devifes fratagems and maffacres

For thofe who break her fetters,

Eliz. Now dispatch,

Ufe all your zeal-forget not Shrewsbury.

SOLA.

[Exit Cecil.

The events begin to multiply, which tend.

All to my point-This clofe imprisonment
Will now be fanctified in peoples eyes.
I'll spread the fame of this confpiracy;
But for the Duke's intrigue there needs no hafte;
As yet 'tis in the bud, and may lie hid
Till farther light fall ripen and expand
Its native colours. Here he comes at length.

Enter NORFOLK.

Nor. I fear I'm come full late; tho' not the laft In love and duty to my gracious Queen.

Eliz. My Lord, we know your fame for loyalty; For honour, juftice, generofity;

We think ourselves have not been wanting yet,
In owning and rewarding your deferts;

Nor can we doubt your faith and gratitude.

Nor. Forbid it Heaven that there fhould be just cause !

Eliz. Norfolk, you are our first commiffioner.Nor. As fuch, I truft I've not difgrac'd my charge, Or England's justice.

Eliz. You are not accused;

Think not we with for blind fubferviency

In th' exercife of fuch a trust; but fay

Frankly what colour wears this wondrous cause ? Nor. On Mary's fide fair as her beauteous front... Eliz How to my face?

My Lord, you never speak

But from the heart, fuch franknefs pleafes me,
And much becomes your family and name!
Which in good truth, I wish were well fecur'd
In the right line! your noble wife, my Lord,
Hath lately left us to lament her lofs;

You should repair it: who wou'd not be proud
To boast of Norfolk's heart? Why not afpire
To ask a royal hand?-The Queen of Scots
Is not I guess, difpleafing in your fight.

[afide.

Nor. Afpire to gain the Queen of Scots? fhall I, So highly countenanced by your good grace, Court one in bondage, fallen, and accus'd? Eliz. Is, then, a diadem fo fmall a prize!

Nor. Pardon me, Madam. if I have no wish
To wed a prifoner.-Gods, when I reflect
On all the comforts I enjoy at home,
How can I wish to feek a land of strife;
And purchase, at the price of wealth and ease,
A barren fceptre and a fruitless crown?

Eliz. Then England boasts a peer who scorns the match?

Nor. Such are the gifts of bounteous Providence, Such my condition in my native land,

That when furrounded by the numerous throng
Of my retainers, at my plenteous board,
Or in the crouded field at country sports,
I, your liege fubject, fometimes rate myself
As high as many princes..

Enter DAVISON.

Dav. Madam I come

From the Earl of Liecefter, who, by illness feiz'd,
Despairs of life, yet frequently repeats

Your royal name, and feems as if he wish'd
T'impart fome weighty matter.-

Eliz, Say I'll come.

[Exit Dav

[Afide.] So Leicefter has fome fecret to divulge Upon his death bed, tho' I trust in Heaven

He doth not yet upon his death bed lie!

[Addreffed to Norfolk.] And on what pillow Norfolk lays his head,

Let him beware!

NORFOLK, folus.

[Exit Eliz.

What may this caution mean?

Beware what pillow! Ha! why more is meant:
I mark'd her cold, dry looks, her pregnant fneers;
All is not well-furely fhe has not heard-
She has, and I'm undone-all confidence,
All faith is rotten-Leicester is my friend;
But who knows what in ficknefs he'll confefs?
Somehow I am betray'd: 'Tis Cecil fure;
The prying, penetrating Cecil, ayş!'
C

He at a glance views all this bufy world,

And reads our very hearts. I'll to him ftraight.

[Exit Norfolk.

SCENE II. Enter Cecil, meeting Lord Herries in hafte.

Cecil. Whither fo faft, my Lord?

L. Her. No matter, Sir,

If far from regions whence all faith is flown,
All reverence to royal rights-

Cecil. How's this?

L. Her. England's no more a civiliz❜d estate: The favage Afric tyrant may expofe

His fubject's liberty to public fale,

Seize, bind, and fell the human race like beasts,
Mow down their heads like thiftles in the path;
He is untutor'd; yet not more than you,
Barbarian, reckless of all faith and law.

What breach of law what wrongful judgment's this?

L. Her. None: for you cannot, dare not judge,
our Queen,

Why is the then detained ? Curfe on this land
And all its favage race, your cursed shores,
Plac'd like a trap to intercept the course
And paffage of the fea, had well nigh caught
My Mistress on her way:' Henceforth what fail
Will not, thro' rocks and fands, avoid your coaft?
Soon as the mariner fhall from afar

Defcry your hated cliffs, tho' spent with toil,
Confum'd with fickness, and diftrefs'd for food,
He'll turn his leaky veffel, and efcape.
The feat of treacherous Circe's cruel reign.
Yet, e'er I go, mark this, the hour's at hand
When foreign vengeance fhall difmay your ifle,
Scare all its coafts, and make its center fhake
At fight of fuch a buoyant armament.
As never prefs'd the bofom of the main.
Beware!

[Exit Herries.

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