ded wreath from Essex' brow;
His honest laurel, held aloft by fame,
Above thy blasting reach, shall safely flourish,
And bloom immortal to the latest times;
Whilst thou, amidst thy tangling snares involved,
Shalt sink confounded, and unpitied fall.

_Bur._ Rail on, proud lord, and give thy choler vent:
It wastes itself in vain; the queen shall judge
Between us in this warm debate. To her
I now repair: and, in her royal presence,
You may approve your innocence and faith.
Perhaps you'll meet me there. Till then, farewell. [_Exit._

_South._ Confusion wait thy steps, thou cruel monster!--
My noble and illustrious friend betray'd
By crafty faction, and tyrannic power!
His sinking trophies, and his falling fame,
Oppress my very soul. I'll to the queen,
Lay all their envy open to her view,
Confront their malice, and preserve my friend. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Presence Chamber._

_The QUEEN discovered, sitting on her Throne. RALEIGH,
LORDS, and ATTENDANTS._

_Qu. Eliz._ Without consulting me! presumptuous man!
Who governs here?--What! am not I your queen?
You dared not, were he present, take this step.

_Ral._ Dread sovereign, your ever faithful commons
Have, in their gratitude and love for you,
Preferred this salutary bill against him.

_Enter BURLEIGH._

_Qu. Eliz._ You, my Lord Burleigh, must have known of this.
The commons here impeach the Earl of Essex
Of practising against the state and me.
Methinks I might be trusted with the secret.
Speak, for I know it well, 'twas thy contrivance.
Ha! was it not? You dare not say it was not.

_Bur._ I own my judgment did concur with theirs.
His crimes, I fear, will justify the charge,
And vindicate their loyalty and mine.

_Qu. Eliz._ Ha! tell not me your smooth deceitful story!
I know your projects, and your close cabals,
You'd turn my favour into party feuds,
And use my sceptre as the rod of faction:
But Henry's daughter claims a nobler soul.
I'll nurse no party, but will reign o'er all,
And my sole rule shall be to bless my people:
Who serves them best, has still my highest favour:
This Essex ever did.

_Enter SOUTHAMPTON._

Behold, Southampton,
What a base portrait's here! The faithful Essex
Here drawn at large, associating with rebels,
To spoil his country, and dethrone his queen!

_South._ It is not like.--By Heaven, the hand of envy
Drew these false lines, distorted far from truth
And honour, an