vant of this same Varney, my lord," she said; "it is lucky
you trust him with nothing that can hurt you in our opinion, for believe
me, he would keep no counsel."

"From your Highness," said Leicester, dropping gracefully on one knee,
"it were treason he should. I would that my heart itself lay before you,
barer than the tongue of any servant could strip it."

"What, my lord," said Elizabeth, looking kindly upon him, "is there no
one little corner over which you would wish to spread a veil? Ah! I see
you are confused at the question, and your Queen knows she should not
look too deeply into her servants' motives for their faithful duty, lest
she see what might, or at least ought to, displease her."

Relieved by these last words, Leicester broke out into a torrent of
expressions of deep and passionate attachment, which perhaps, at that
moment, were not altogether fictitious. The mingled emotions which had
at first overcome him had now given way to the energetic vigour with
which he had determined to support his place in the Queen's favour;
and never did he seem to Elizabeth more eloquent, more handsome, more
interesting, than while, kneeling at her feet, he conjured her to strip
him of all his dower, but to leave him the name of her servant.--"Take
from the poor Dudley," he exclaimed, "all that your bounty has made him,
and bid him be the poor gentleman he was when your Grace first shone on
him; leave him no more than his cloak and his sword, but let him still
boast he has--what in word or deed he never forfeited--the regard of his
adored Queen and mistress!"

"No, Dudley!" said Elizabeth, raising him with one hand, while she
extended the other that he might kiss it. "Elizabeth hath not forgotten
that, whilst you were a poor gentleman, despoiled of your hereditary
rank, she was as poor a princess, and that in her cause you then
ventured all that oppression had left you--your life and honour. Rise,
my lord, and let my hand go--rise, and be what you have ever been, the
grace of our court and the support of our throne! Your mistress may
be forced to chide your misdemeanours, but never without owning your
merits.--And so help me God," she added, turning to the audience, who,
with various feelings, witnessed this interesting scene--"so help me
God, gentlemen, as I think never sovereign had a truer servant than I
have in this noble Earl!"

A murmur of assent rose from the Leicestrian faction, which the friends
of Sussex da