"My wife, sir, hath played the devil ere now, in a Mystery, in Queen

Mary's time; but me shall want a trifle for properties."

"Here is a crown for thee," said the Earl,--"make me rid of thee--the

great bell rings."

Master Robert Laneham stared a moment at the agitation which he had

excited, and then said to himself, as he stooped to pick up his staff

of office, "The noble Earl runs wild humours to-day. But they who give

crowns expect us witty fellows to wink at their unsettled starts; and,

by my faith, if they paid not for mercy, we would finger them tightly!"

[See Note 6. Robert Laneham.] Leicester moved hastily on, neglecting the courtesies he had hitherto

dispensed so liberally, and hurrying through the courtly crowd, until

he paused in a small withdrawing-room, into which he plunged to draw a

moment's breath unobserved, and in seclusion.

"What am I now," he said to himself, "that am thus jaded by the words

of a mean, weather-beaten, goose-brained gull! Conscience, thou art a

bloodhound, whose growl wakes us readily at the paltry stir of a rat

or mouse as at the step of a lion. Can I not quit myself, by one

bold stroke, of a state so irksome, so unhonoured? What if I kneel to

Elizabeth, and, owning the whole, throw myself on her mercy?"

As he pursued this train of thought, the door of the apartment opened,

and Varney rushed in.

"Thank God, my lord, that I have found you!" was his exclamation.

"Thank the devil, whose agent thou art," was the Earl's reply.

"Thank whom you will, my lord," replied Varney; "but hasten to the

water-side. The Queen is on board, and asks for you."

"Go, say I am taken suddenly ill," replied Leicester; "for, by Heaven,

my brain can sustain this no longer!"

"I may well say so," said Varney, with bitterness of expression, "for

your place, ay, and mine, who, as your master of the horse, was to have

attended your lordship, is already filled up in the Queen's barge. The

new minion, Walter Raleigh, and our old acquaintance Tressilian were

called for to fill our places just as I hastened away to seek you."

"Thou art a devil, Varney," said Leicester hastily; "but thou hast the

mastery for the present--I follow thee."

Varney replied not, but led the way out of the palace, and towards the

river, while his master followed him, as if mechanically; until, looking

back, he said in a tone which savoured of familiarity at least, if not

of authority, "How is this, my lord? Your cloak hangs on one side--your

hose are unbraced--permit me--"




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