ne he
utters valuable, for the sake of his reputation, and his impending
misfortunes.

The admirers of Shakspeare will likewise feel a double concern in the
fate of the Lord Southampton, whilst they recollect, that this zealous
friend of Essex was the noble protector and benefactor of England's most
illustrious bard.

The name of Burleigh sounds high as that of Elizabeth, for their glory
was equal--but the name alone attaches to the present character; for the
great Cecil, by the wisdom of whose measures England was, at the period
of this play, in its highest prosperity, died about two years previous
to the death of Essex; and this, his son, became the unhappy earl's
bitterest foe.

Not even a female character is here introduced from fiction.--Rutland
and Nottingham are both well known in history; and though the cruel
incident of the ring is not attested by any historian, it is minutely
related by them all.

But whether her majesty gave the unfortunate hero of this tragedy a ring
or not, it is most certain that she gave him a blow; and of all the
proofs of love which she bestowed upon him, this surely cannot be
numbered amongst the least.

It is extraordinary, that the present play, having introduced this
singular occurrence, should omit the particular sentence which Essex
uttered on the memorable occasion.--History says, that he laid his hand
on his sword, and told Elizabeth, "he would not have taken such
treatment from her father, Henry the Eighth."--But, as a man of true
gallantry, the Earl should not have felt himself offended at a woman's
anger; which experience must have told him, was the certain mark of
concealed tenderness. His reply had been most excellent had it been
delivered with smiles instead of frowns; but to have recourse to his
sword, was acting like a novice in the art of love; and resenting an
affront, when he should have acknowledged a favour.

As that love which is expressed by indirect means, has often the
greatest hold upon the attention and sympathy of the spectator; so, many
an auditor and reader will feel more interest in the restrained
affection of Elizabeth for her paramour, than in the unbridled fondness
of Rutland for her husband.--The scene, where the queen bestows the
ring, as a pledge of her kindest regard for his safety, is peculiarly
affecting, because the strength of her passion is there discoverable,
under a demeanour properly dignified; and all violent propensity, either
to