rned from the wars in
Spain, where his gallantry and promptitude at Cadiz have won new glories
for Her Majesty. In five short years more, his head will come to the
block by decree of this same Majesty; but this no one can foresee and
all voices now unite in praises for the brave and generous Essex.

[Illustration: Earl of Essex]

Another conspicuous favourite is a blue-eyed, pink-cheeked young
fellow of twenty-three, whose scarcely perceptible beard and
moustache, and curly auburn hair falling over his shoulders and
half-way to his waist, would suggest femininity except for his martial
manner and tall figure. His resplendent attire is notable even in this
gorgeously arrayed company. His white satin doublet has a broad
collar, edged with lace and embroidered with silver thread; the white
trunks and knee-breeches are laced with gold; the sword-belt,
embroidered in red and gold, is decorated at intervals with white
silk bows; purple garters, embroidered in silver thread, fasten the
white stockings below the knee. As one of the handsomest of
Elizabeth's courtiers, and also one of the most distinguished for
birth, wealth, and wit, he would be a striking figure at any time; but
to-night he has the added distinction of being the special friend and
munificent patron of the author of the play that they have come to
witness. To him had been dedicated the author's first appeal to the
reading public--a poem called "Venus and Adonis," published some three
years since; also, a certain "sugared sonnet," privately circulated,
protesting--

"For to no other pass my verses tend
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell."

And through the patronage of this man--the gracious Earl of
Southampton--the actor-author was first brought to the Queen's notice,
finally leading to the present distinction at her hands.

[Illustration: Earl of Southampton]

But now the stage compels attention. The silk curtains are withdrawn,
disclosing a setting of such elaboration and illusion as never before
has been witnessed by sixteenth century eyes. Never before has the
frugal Elizabeth consented to such an expenditure for costumes,
properties, lights, and music. In vain the audience awaits the coming
of the author; he is behind the scenes, an anxious and watchful
partner with the machinist in securing the proper working of these new
mechanical appliances, and the smoothness of the scene shifting. The
Queen is a connoisseur in these matters,