Eliz. No further, Count;

Let us not mix two inconsistent things;
If France desires in earnest my alliance,

It must partake my cares; indeed, it must;
foes.

Nor join in friendship with my

L'Aub. It would

Act most unworthily, e'en in thy eyes,
If it, in this alliance, should forget

This hapless Queen, the widow of its king;
In whose behalf, its honour and its faith

Are bound to plead for

Eliz. In this respect,

grace.

I know, as it becomes me, how to value This intercession; France therein fulfills, As a friend, his duties; and, he no doubt, Will now permit me too, to act as Queen. [she bows to the French Ambassadors, who, with the other gentlemen, retire respectfully.

Enter Burleigh, Leicester, and Talbot. The Queen takes

her seat.

Bur. Illustrious sovereign, thou crown'st to day The fervent wishes of thy people: now

We can rejoice in the propitious days

Which thou bestow'st upon us; and we look
No more with fear and trembling tow'rds the time
Which, charg'd with storms, futurity presented.
Now, but one only care disturbs this land;
It is a sacrifice which ev'ry voice

Demands; O grant but this, and England's peace
Will be establish'd now and evermore.

Eliz. What wish they still, my Lord? speak.
Bur. They demand

The head of Mary Stuart;—if thou wilt
Secure thy people in the high enjoyment
Of liberty, and the fair light of truth,
So lately and so dearly earn'd, then she
Must be no more: if you will ease our minds
Of these eternal fears for thy dear life,

The

enemy must fall for well thou know'st,
F

That all thy Britons are not true alike :
Roman idolatry has still its friends

In secret, in this island, who foment

The hatred of our enemies: their hearts

All turn towards this Stuart; they are leagu'd
With the two plotting brothers of Lorrain,
Th' invet'rate foes both of thy name and realm.
'Gainst thee this raging faction hath declar'd
A war of desolation, and they wage it
With the deceitful instruments of hell.
At Rheims, the Cardinal Archbishop's see,
There is the arsenal, from which they dart
These light'nings; there's the school of regicide;
Thence, in a thousand shapes disguis'd, are sent
Their secret missionaries to this island;

Their bold and daring zealots; for from thence,
Have we not beheld the third assassin,

And inexhausted is the direful breed

Of secret enemies in this abyss.

And there in Fotheringhay Castle sits The Ate* of this everlasting war,

* The picture of Até, the Goddess of Mischief, we are acquainted with from Homer, Il. v. 91. 130. 1. 501. She is a daughter of Jupiter, and eager to prejudice every one, even the inmortal gods. She counteracted Jupiter himself, on which

Who, with the torch of love, spreads flames around;
For her, who flatters each with the fair hope

Of once possessing her; for her it is,
That love-intoxicated youth devotes

Itself to certain death; her rescue is

The watch-word, and to place her on thy throne
The aim; for this accurs'd house of Lorraine
Denies thy sacred right; to them thou art
A robber of the throne, and crown'd by fortune.
By them this silly woman was deluded,

Proudly to call herself the Queen of England:
There is no peace with her, and with her house;
Their hatred is too bloody, their offences
Too heavy; thou must either act, or suffer;-
Her life is death to thee, her death thy life.

account he seized her by her beautiful hair, and hurl'd her from heaven to the earth, where she, now striding over the heads of men, excites them to evil, in order to involve them in calamity.

Herder

Shakspeare has, in Julius Cæsar, made a fine use of this image:

"And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge,

"With Até by his side, come hot from hell,
"Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice,

"Cry havock, and let slip the dogs of war."

I need not point out to the reader, the beautiful propriety of introducing this evil spirit on this occasion.

Translator.

Eliz. My Lord, your bear a melancholy office; I know the purity which guides your zeal, Know too that unadulterated wisdom

Informs you; yet this wisdom, when it calls

For blood, I hate it in my

inmost soul.

Think of a milder counsel.—Good, my Lord
Of Shrewsbury, now give us your opinion.

Tal. Desire you but to know, most gracious

Queen,

What is for your advantage, then I have
Nought to add to what my Lord High Treas'rer
Has urg'd; for your welfare, let the sentence
Be then confirm'd,—this is prov'd already.
There is no surer method to avert

The danger from your head, and from the state.
If you'll not be advis'd concerning this,
You can dismiss council. We are plac'd

your

Here as your counsellors, but to consult

The welfare of this land, and with our knowledge, With our experience, are we bound to serve you! But, what is good and just: for this, my Queen You have no need of counsellors, your conscience Knows it full well, and it is written there.