ion, and my queen's abhorrence.
Stand forth the villain, whose envenom'd tongue
Would taint my honour, and traduce my name,
Or stamp my conduct with a rebel's brand!
Lives there a monster in the haunts of men,
Dares tear my trophies from their pillar'd base,
Eclipse my glory, and disgrace my deeds?

_Qu. Eliz._ This ardent language, and this glow of soul,
Were nobly graceful in a better cause;
Where virtue warrants, and where truth inspires:
But injured truth, with brow invincible,
Frowns stern reproof upon the false assertion,
And contradicts it with the force of facts.
From me you have appeal'd, ungrateful man!
The laws, not I, must listen to your plea.
Go, stand the test severe, abide the trial,
And mourn, too late, the bounty you abused.
[_Exeunt QUEEN ELIZABETH, SOUTHAMPTON, &c._

_Essex._ Is this the just requital, then, of all
My patriot toils, and oft-encounter'd perils,
Amidst the inclemencies of camps and climes?
Then be it so.----Unmoved and dauntless, let me
This shock of adverse fortune firmly stand.

_Enter SOUTHAMPTON._

_South._ Alas, my lord! the queen's displeasure kindles
With warmth increasing; whilst Lord Burleigh labours
T'inflame her wrath, and make it still burn fiercer.

_Essex._ I scorn the blaze of courts, the pomp of kings;
I give them to the winds, and lighter vanity;
Too long they've robb'd me of substantial bliss,
Of solid happiness, and true enjoyments.
But lead me to my mourning love; alas!
She sinks beneath oppressing ills; she fades,
She dies for my afflicting pangs, and seeks
Me, sorrowing, in the walks of woe.--Distraction!
Oh, lead me to her, to my soul's desire.

_South._ Let caution guide you in this dangerous step.
Consider well, my lord, the consequence--
For should the queen (forbid it, Heaven!) discover
Your private loves, your plighted hands, no power
On earth could step between you and destruction.

_Enter BURLEIGH._

_Bur._ My lord of Essex, 'tis the queen's command,
That you forthwith resign your staff of office;
And further, she confines you to your palace.

_Essex._ Welcome, my fate! Let fortune do her utmost;
I know the worst, and will confront her malice,
And bravely bear the unexpected blow.

_Bur._ The queen, my lord, demands your quick compliance.

_Essex._ Go, then, thou gladsome messenger of ill,
And, joyful, feast thy fierce rapacious soul
With Essex' sudden and accomplish'd fall.
The trampled corse o