To them, the Earl of Shrewsbury. [who enters with

great emotion.]

Hold fast, my Queen, they wish to hurry thee;

Be firm

[seeing Davison with the Paper.

Or is it then decided?-is it

Indeed decided? I behold a paper

Of ominous appearance in his hand;
Let it not at this moment meet thy eyes,
My Queen-

Eliz. Good Shrewsbury! I am constrain'd

Shrews. Who can constrain thee? Thou art Queen

of England,

Here must thy Majesty assert its rights:

Command those savage voices to be silent,
Who take
upon themselves to put constraint
Upon thy royal will, to rule thy judgment.
Fear only, blind conjecture moves thy people;
Thou art thyself beside thyself; thy wrath
Is grievously provok'd: thou art but mortal,
Thou canst not thus ascend the seat of judgment.

Bur. Judgment has long been past; it is not now The time to speak, but execute the sentence.

Kent. [who, on Shrewsbury's entry, had retired, comes back.] The tumult gains apace; there are no means To moderate the people.

Eliz. [to Shrewsbury.] See, my lord, How they press on.

Shrews. I only ask a respite;

A single word trac'd by thy hand may scare
The peace, the happiness of thy existence!
Thou hast for years consider'd, let not then
A moment rul'd by passion hurry thee—
But a short respite-recollect thyself;
Wait for a moment of tranquillity-

Bur. [violently.] Wait for it-pause-delay-till flames of fire

Consume the realm; until the fifth attempt

Of murder be successful! God indeed

Hath thrice deliver'd thee; thy late escape
Was marvellous, and to expect again

A miracle would be to tempt thy God!

Shrews. That God, whose potent hand hath thrice preserv'd thee,

Who lent my aged feeble arm the strength
To overcome the madman; he deserves

Thy confidence. I will not raise the voice
Of justice now, for now is not the time;
Thou canst not hear it in this storm of passion.
Yet listen but to this: thou tremblest now
Before this living Mary-tremble rather
Before the murder'd, the beheaded Mary.
She will arise, and quit her
grave, will range
A fiend of discord, and a spirit of vengeance
Around thy realm, and turn thy people's hearts
From their allegiance. As yet the Britons
Hate her, because they fear her; but most surely
They will avenge her, when she is no more.
They will no more behold the

enemy

Of their belief, they will but see in her

The much-lamented issue of their kings

A sacrifice to jealousy and hatred.

Then quickly shalt thou see the sudden change, When thou hast done the bloody deed; then

go

Through London, seek thy people, which till now Delighted swarm'd around thee; thou shalt see Another England, and another people;

For then no more the godlike dignity

Of justice, which subdued thy subjects' hearts, Will beam around thee; Fear, the dread attendant Of tyranny, will shudd'ring march before thee, And desolate each path on which thou go'st!The last, extremest crime thou hast committed, What head is safe, if the anointed fall?

Eliz. Ah! Shrewsbury, you sav'd my life, you turn'd

The murd'rous steel aside; why let you not
The dagger take its course? then all contentions
Would have been ended, then releas'd from doubt,
And free from blame, I should be now at rest

In my

I'm

still peaceful grave.-Forsooth with reason weary of my life, and of my crown.

If one of us must perish to secure

The other's life, and so it is, I must

Acknowledge it, cannot then I be she

Who yields? Then let my people take their choice;
I give them back their Majesty, and call
My God to witness, that I have not liv'd
For my own sake, but for my people's welfare.
If they expect from this false, fawning Stuart,

The younger sovereign, more happy days,
I will descend with pleasure from this throne,
Again repair to Woodstock's quiet bow'rs,
Where once I spent my unpretending youth;
Where I, remov'd from all the vanities
Of earthly greatness, found within myself
True Majesty. I am not made to rule—
A ruler should be made of sterner stuff:

My heart is soft and tender. I have govern'd
this kingdom happily,

These many years,

But then I only needed to make happy

Now, comes the first important kingly duty,

And now I feel my weakness. Go, my lords-
Bur. Now by my faith, when I must hear my Queen,
My royal liege, speak such unroyal words,
I should betray my office, should betray
My country, were I longer to be silent.

Thou say'st thou lov'st above thyself thy people,
Now prove it; choose not peace for thy own heart,
And leave thy people to the storms of discord.
Think on the church; shall, with this Papist-Queen,
The ancient superstition be renew'd?

The monks rule here again, the Roman legate