an's pangs:
Resentment governs, and the queen shall punish.

_Enter BURLEIGH._

_Bur._ Illustrious queen! the traitors all are seized.
Their black debates
Were held at Drury House. The dire result
Was this: that Essex should alarm the citizens
To open mutiny, and bold rebellion.
Their purpose was to seize your royal palace,
And sacred person; but your faithful people,
As by one mind inform'd, one zeal inspired,
Rose up at once, and with their virtue quell'd them.

_Qu. Eliz._ Thanks to their honest, to their loyal hearts!
But say, were any persons else concern'd,
Of high distinction, or of noted rank?

_Bur._ Yes, madam, many more;
'Mong whom the bold Southampton foremost stands.
They're now our prisoners, and are safe secured;
But Essex, with Southampton, and the rest
Of greater note, I would not dare dispose of
Without your royal mandate; and they now
Attend without, to know your final pleasure.

_Qu. Eliz._ Is this the just return of all my care?
My anxious toilsome days, and watchful nights?
Have I sent forth a wish, that went not freighted
With all my people's good? Or have I life,
Or length of days desired, but for their sake?
The public good is all my private care!
Then could I think this grateful isle
Contain'd one traitor's heart? But, least of all,
That Essex' breast should lodge it? Call the monster,
And let me meet this rebel face to face!
Do you withdraw, and wait within our call.
[_Exeunt BURLEIGH and NOTTINGHAM._

_Enter ESSEX._

You see, we dare abide your dangerous presence,
Though treason sits within your heart enthroned,
And on that brow rebellion lours, where once
Such boasted loyalty was said to flourish.
How low the traitor can degrade the soldier!
Guilt glares in conscious dye upon thy cheek,
And inward horror trembles in thine eye.
How mean is fraud! How base ingratitude!

_Essex._ Forbear reproach, thou injured majesty,
Nor wound with piercing looks, a heart already
With anguish torn, and bleeding with remorse.
Your awful looks, alone, are arm'd with death,
And justice gives them terror.

_Qu. Eliz._ Hapless man!
What cause could prompt, what fiend could urge thee on
To this detested deed? Could I from thee
Expect to meet this base return? from thee,
To whom I ought to fly with all the confidence
That giving bounty ever could inspire,
Or seeming gratitude and worth could promise?

_Essex._ Alas! I own my crimes, and feel m