sight, ungrateful slave, and learn
At distance to revere your queen!

_Essex._ Yes; let
Me fly beyond the limits of the world,
And nature's verge, from proud oppression far,
From malice, tyranny, from courts, from you.

_Qu. Eliz._ Traitor! villain! [_Strikes him._

_Essex._ Confusion! what, a blow!
Restrain, good Heaven! down, down, thou rebel passion,
And, judgment, take the reins. Madam, 'tis well--
Your soldier falls degraded;
His glory's tarnish'd, and his fame undone.
O, bounteous recompence from royal hands!
But you, ye implements, beware, beware,
What honour wrong'd, and honest wrath can act.

_Qu. Eliz._ What would th' imperious traitor do?
My life
Beyond thy wretched purpose stands secure.
Go, learn at leisure what your deeds deserve,
And tremble at the vengeance you provoke.
[_Exeunt all but ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON._

_Essex._ Disgraced and struck! Damnation! Death were glorious!
Revenge! revenge!

_South._ Alas, my friend! what would
Thy rage attempt? Consider well the great
Advantage now your rash, ungovern'd temper
Affords your foes. The queen, incensed, will let
Their fury loose.--I dread the dire event!

_Essex._ Has honest pride no just resentment left?
Nor injured honour, feeling?--Not revenge!
High Heaven shall hear, and earth regret, my wrongs.
Hot indignation burns within my soul.
I'll do some dreadful thing!--I know not what;
Some deeds, as horrid as the shame I feel,
Shall startle nature, and alarm the world.
Then hence, like lightning, let me furious fly,
To hurl destruction at my foes on high;
Pull down oppression from its tyrant seat,
Redeem my glory, or embrace my fate. [_Exeunt._

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.

_The Palace._

_Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and NOTTINGHAM._

_Qu. Eliz._ Not taken yet?

_Not._ No, madam: for the Earl
Of Essex, leagued with desperate friends, made strong
And obstinate resistance; till, at length,
O'erpower'd by numbers, and increasing force,
He fled for shelter to a small retreat,
A summer-house, upon the Thames; resolved
To perish, rather than submit to power.

_Qu. Eliz._ Oh, where shall majesty bestow its favours,
Since Essex has a traitor proved to me,
Whose arm hath raised him up to power and greatness;
Whose heart has shared in all his splendid triumphs,
And feels, ev'n now, his trait'rous deeds with pity?
But hence with pity, and the wom