esolved to try the experiment, and
he committed the ring to the countess of Nottingham, whom he desired to
deliver it to the queen. The countess was prevailed on by her husband,
the mortal enemy of Essex, not to execute the commission; and Elizabeth,
who still expected that her favorite would make this last appeal to
her tenderness, and who ascribed the neglect of it to his invincible
obstinacy, was, after much delay and many internal combats, pushed
by resentment and policy to sign the warrant for his execution. The
countess of Nottingham, falling into sickness, and affected with the
near approach of death, was seized with remorse for her conduct; and
having obtained a visit from the queen, she craved her pardon, and
revealed to her the fatal secret. The queen, astonished with this
incident, burst into a furious passion: she shook the dying countess in
her bed; and crying to her, "that God might pardon her, but she never
could," she broke from her, and thenceforth resigned herself over to the
deepest and most incurable melancholy. She rejected all consolation: she
even refused food and sustenance: and throwing herself on the floor, she
remained sullen and immovable, feeding her thoughts on her afflictions,
and declaring life and existence an insufferable burden to her. Few
words she uttered; and they were all expressive of some inward grief
which she cared not to reveal: but sighs and groans were the chief vent
which she gave to her despondency, and which, though they discovered her
sorrows, were never able to ease or assuage them. Ten days and nights
she lay upon the carpet, leaning on cushions which her maids brought
her; and her physicians could not persuade her to allow herself to
be put to bed, much less to make trial of any remedies which they
prescribed to her.[*]

* Strype, vol. iv. No. 276.

Her anxious mind at last had so long preyed on her frail body, that her
end was visibly approaching; and the council, being assembled, sent
the keeper, admiral, and secretary, to know her will with regard to her
successor. She answered with a faint voice, that as she had held a regal
sceptre, she desired no other than a royal successor. Cecil requesting
her to explain herself more particularly, she subjoined, that she would
have a king to succeed her; and who should that be but her nearest
kinsman, the king of Scots? Being then advised by the archbishop of
Canterbury to fix her thoughts upon God, she replied, that sh