Apart, like ftriken deer-while he in fport,
At his balcony revell'd, 'midft a throng
Of ladies, praifing his dexterity,

Taught, like himself, by his more cruel mother,
From early youth, to jeft at homicide.

Eliz. No more, the tale's too dreadful, I'll re
'tire.'

May heav'n preferve my people from this curfe!
War famine, peftilence, are triffes all
Compar'd to this corruption of the mind,
This degradation of humanity.

I'll to my closet; let none dare approach;
No cares of state prefume to interrupt
My holy folitude..

Dav. The Queen's retir'd

[Exit Elizabeth,

Moft opportunely, for I've that to tell,
Which to no ear but thine-

Cecil. What, Davifon?

Haft thou that can the least attention claim
After thy dreadful tale?

Dav. That which demands

All your dispatch, prudence, activity,
The Queen's in danger, and each hour loft
Appears an age, ruffians there are

Cecil. How's this?

Her life in danger? fay by whom and how?
Dav. These ruffians came from Rheims, a femi-

nary

• Intoxicated with th' omnipotence

Of papal power, and Rome's accurs'd decrees, Thinking that if they perifh'd in the attempt, They gain'd a glorious crown of martyrdom. This motely crew compos'd of foldiers, priests • Of various orders, mad enthusiasts,

So confident in their iniquity,

• Caft lots for weapons; then in full career • Of riot 'midft their cups, for frolick fake,

• Were painted in one portrait, each with th' arme
That fell to him by lot.-Thefe villains all
Are feiz'd.

Cecil. Can you no further trace the plot ?
Are you fo flack a friend? till now I thought

That if you gain'd the clue your zeal would foon
Tread back the windings of the labyrinth,

And from her dark recefs drag forth to light
This forcerefs:

Dav. Miftruft not yet that zeal;

• Behold this fruit of it.'-These lines I've gain'd [Delivering Letters. From Gifford, a corrupt, abandon'd prieft,

Who fold his fellow traitors-thefe are faid

To be the writing of Queen Mary's hand;
And whether true

Cecil. Enough! they rongly bear

The femblance-now 'tis done-thanks Davifon!
I'll to the Queen nor heed her prohibition.

[Cecil knocks at the closet door, Elizabeth
enters from thence.]

Eliz. Who dares with facrilegious fteps approach
And intervene betwixt his fovereign's pray'rs,
And Heaven's impending vengeance on our race?
Cecil. 'Twas not without juft caufe--
Eliz. No caufe, I trust,

Warrants plain difobedience of my word,
My ftrict commands-Sir !

Cecil. Madam, thefe events

Brook no delay.

Eliz. Events! why what events?
Canft thou add flames to Etna's raging fire ?
Imagination can no fequel find

Worthy the tale he told.

Cecil. This hour Davifon

Fears for your royal felf.

Eliz. Speak Davifon!

Dav. -I truft

All will be well, for the confpirators

Are almost all fecur'd.

Eliz. Confpirators!

Dav. Aye, moft inveterate, implacable!
Hell never fent fuch fiends to curfe mankind,

Taught by religious zeal to emulate,

Nay to conteft the prize of parricide.

Eliz. You fay they are fecur'd ?

Cecil. Know you their names?

Dav. Their chief is Babington; a youth whofe

• zeal

For Mary fprings from a distemper'd brain, Inflam'd by love.'-And more 'tis fully prov'd That Mary's in the league.

Cecil,

-An afsociate

In this confpiracy.

Eliz. Remove her straight

From gentle Shrewsbury's care to Fotheringay:
Let her no more be treated as a Queen.

Exit Davifon,
Cecil, am 1 not just? why to what length
Will the abuse my patience?

Cecil. How many crimes

Which now disgrace the annals of the world
Owe their existence to falfe clemency,
And weak procrastination? She muft die ;
Or, you, a willing sacrifice, must yield
Your life to fave her.

Eliz. Mean you, that thro' fear,

I fhou'd affume her part, and basely turn
Affaflin?

Cecil. Heav'n forbid! are we then funk
Below the level of the Pagan world?
For they have juftice; Juftice is the right
Of all beneath the fun; and fhall not you,
The fource and fountain of it, be allow'd
What you difpenfe to all? Are royal lives
Worth less than those of subjects? or is fhe,
This mighty captive, paramount to laws,
Divine and human?

Eliz. Whither tends this theme?

Cecil. To juftice; to the fair impartial courfe Of justice

Éliz. Cecil! you forget yourself,

And her whom you addrefs: Is this your zeal,.
Your reverence for royalty? What law

Can render her amenable to me?

Cecil. Nature has laws; inftinct, alike to all
Promulgates them- Affaffination needs
No human ftatutes to declare its guilt;
F

They are but feeble, artificial props,
The patch work of fociety, which ferve
Only to fwell the catalogue of crimes,
By inefficient fanguinary means.'

Thank Heav'n no mortal is exempt from law
Who shall attempt the life of England's Queen.
Eliz. Aye, in this island; but the general voice
Of Europe wou'd cry fhame!-Prefumptuous man!
No more-Let not your forwardnefs o'erftep
The bounds of our forbearance, nor abuse
Your fovereign's ear with base suggestions; cease!

Enter Davifon.

What fresh difafter now? hate, fear, and death,
Revolt, and treafon, mark thy ominous fteps.

Dav. No prince was ever more belov'd and fear'd; Your people in one bond affociated

Join to defend your life, and, with one voice,
Call for immediate juftice on her head,
Whofe life is incompatiable with yours-

Eliz. For that alternative, if that were all,

Freely I'd pardon all her injuries:

But for my people's fake it cannot be :

Heav'n has entrusted them, and their true faith,

To my defence.

Dav. Our lives, religion, all!

Grant, oh! grant justice!

Eliz. Have I not fworn to it,

When I fucceeded to th' imperial Crown?

You have our leave, our Royal warrant, Davifon.

[Exit Davifon. [Afide.] Heav'ns, what have I pronounc'd! I dare not think!

Then I must act, and leave flow timorous thought;
This is no time for fcruples and remorse,

Cecil, 'tis done! fince nothing but her blood
Can fatisfy your thirsty fouls-

Cecil. My liege,

Your grateful people will applaud the deed;
Blefs the defender of their faith.

Eliz. 'Tis false;

The univerfal world will curfe the deed;
All future ages execrate the name

Of her who brought anointed royalty

To fuch difgrace: yet there is time-who waits?
Enter Servant.

Fly quickly; call back Davifon-Alas!

[Exit Servant. Alas, poor Queen! Cruel, perfidious man! Your baneful counsel prompted me to this.

Enter Davison.

Oh, are you come?- -Davifon! I recal
The horrid fentence-

Cecil. Such are now the thanks,

And ever were, of those who weakly strive
To fave a Prince determin'd on his fall.
Madam! fince, inattentive to my prayers,
You thus devote yourself-let me retire
Unacceffary to your fate.

Eliz. Cecil!

I must not lose your fervice.
Cecil. Why should I

Stay to endure that vengeance, which will fall
On all your Ministers, when Mary's plots
Rob England of her Queen?

Dav. Till that's atchiev'd,

She'll never rest; her object is your Crown.
Has the renounced her claim? No; to this hour
She fometimes boasts her title to your Throne,
As confidently as the us'd in France,

When fhe, with her firft husband's fleurs de lys,
Quarter'd the arms of England.

Eliz. That, indeed

That was an early pledge; with her first milk
She drank the feeds of hate; ftill, as fhe grew,
Th' inveterate poifon fpread; and now the pours,
Full in my bofom all the venomous store.

Cecil. Oh, 'tis not mercy, it is cruelty
To fpare her when the fafety of your realm