THE

EARL

of

ES SEX.

TH

A C T I.

SCENE, an Antichamber in the Palace.
Enter Burleigh and Raleigh.

BURLEIGH.

HE bill, at length, has pafs'd oppofing numbers, Whilft crowds feditious clamour'd round the fenate,

And headlong faction urg'd its force within.

Ral. It has, my lord. The wifh'd-for day is come,
When this proud idol of the people's hearts
Shall now no more be worshipp'd.-Effex falls.
My lord, the minute's near that shall unravel
The mystic schemes of this afpiring man.
Now Fortune, with officious hand, invites us
To her, and opens wide the gates of greatnefs,
The way to power. My heart exults; I fee,
I fee, my lord, our utmost with accomplish'd!
1 fee great Cecil fhine without a rival,
And England bless him as her guardian faint.
Such potent inftruments I have prepar'd,
As fhall, with fpeed, o'erturn this hated man,
And dash him down, by proof invincible.

Bur. His day of glory now is fet in night,
And all my anxious hopes, at laft, are crown'd.
Thofe proofs against him, Raleigh-

Ral. All arrived.

Bur. Arrived! how? when ?

Ral. This very hour, my lord:

Nay more, a perfon comes, of high distinction,

Το

To prove fome fecret treaties made by Effex,
With Scotland's monarch, and the proud Tyrone..
Bur. How fay'ft? to prove 'em?

Ral. Ay, my lord, and back'd

With circumftances of a ftronger nature.
It now appears, his fecretary Cuff,

With Blunt and Lee, were deep concern'd in this
Destructive scheme, contriv'd to raise this lord,
And ruin Cecil. O, it is a fubtile,

A deep laid mifchief, by the earl contriv'd,
In hour malignant, to o'erturn the state,
And (horror to conceive!) dethrone the queen.

Bur. Thefe gladfome tidings fly beyond my hopes !!
The queen will liften now, will now believe,
And trust the counfel of her faithful Burleigh.
Let this moft lucky circumftance be kept
A fecret still from public obfervation.-
Difpofe 'em well, till kind occafion calls
Their office forth, left prying craft mean while

May tamper with their thoughts, and change their minds z Let them, like batteries conceal'd, appear

At once, both to furprize and to destroy.

Ral. This fudden shock, my lord, this weighty stroke, Must press him headlong down to deep destruction: Indignant Fate marks out this dreaded man,

And fortune now has left him.

Bur. Thank the changeling;

His fervile faction foon will stand aghaft,
And fink, at diftance, from his threat'ning fall.
Ral. His headstrong friend, the bold Southampton too
Now finds his rafh endeavours all defeated;
And storms at thee and the impeaching commons.
Bur. Let him rave on, and rage.-The lion in
The toils entangled, waftes his ftrength, and roars
In vain; his efforts but amuse me now.-

Ral. What triumphs in my foul fhall reign, to fee
This fanguine and o'erbearing man brought down
Beneath my envy; nay, below my scorn.
How young ambition fwells my rifing hopes!
''Tis Heaven, O Cecil, calls thro' England's voice,
And justice, bending from above, invites us.

Enter

Enter Gentleman.

Gent. My lord, the lady Nottingham defires,
With much impatience, to attend your lordship.
Bur. What may the purport of her bus'ness be?
Her tender wishes are to Effex ty'd

In love's foft fetters, and endearing bands:

For him, each melting thought awakes defire,
And all her foul is lavifh'd on that lord,-
• This unexpected vifit much furprizes me !
What can it mean? She would not come to pry
And pick out tales for Effex' ear!-Why let her;
• I'm arm'd fecure against her arts and cunning.
• Befides, her errand comes too late; for now
• Her minion's doom'd to fall.'-Conduct her in.

[Exit Ral.

[Exit Gent.
And you, my Raleigh, watch Southampton's fteps;
With care obferve each movement of his friends;
That no advantage on that fide be loft.
Southampton's Effex' fecond felf; he shares
"His headlong councils, and adopts his schemes;
His daring heart, and bold, ungovern'd tongue,
Are both enlisted in the rash designs

"Of this proud lord, nor knows a will but his :
A limb fo fix'd must with the body fall.'
Enter Lady Nottingham.

Not. Thrice hail to refcu'd England's guiding genius!
His country's guardian, and his queen's defence.
Great Burleigh, thou whose patriot bofom beats

With Albion's glory and Eliza's fame;

Who fhield'st her perfon, and support'ft her throne;
For thee, what fervent thanks, what offer'd vows,
Do proftrate millions pay!

Bur. Bright excellence,

This fair applaufe too highly over-rates,

Too much extols, the low deserts of Cecil.

Not. What praises are too high for patriot-worth;

Or what applause exceeds the price of virtue?
My lord, conviction has at last fubdu’d me,
And I am honour's profelyte :-too long
My erring heart purfued the ways of faction;
I own myself t' have been your bitt'reft foe,

3

And

And join'd with Effex in each foul attempt

To blafeyour honour, and traduce your fame.

Bur. Tho' ne'er my wifhing heart could call you friend, Yet honour and efteem I always bore

you;
And never meant, but with respect to ferve you.
It grieves me, madam, to have thus offended,
Where most my wishes labour'd to oblige.

Not. I know your honour and your virtues well;
Your public plans, defign'd for England's good,
And all your private merit's weight. But, Oh,
How blind is reafon in the maze of paffion!
I fought your ruin, labour'd for your fall.
But, if repentance may attone for guilt,
Or felf-reproach for fharpeft penance pass,
• No mortal breaft e'er felt more woe than mine,
⚫ And Burleigh now may rank me for his friend.

Bur. That fuch a worth of foul fhould be abus'd!
Could I accufe my heart but of a thought
To do you wrong; if any purpose ever
• Againft your welfare in my foul arofe,

That look'd with malice on your fhining merit,

• Your matchlefs beauty, or your brighter virtues
Then let me live defpis'd, a proverb made

To ev'ry paffing flave; nay more, the scorn
And trampled footftool of the man I hate.'
Not. It is enough, my lord, I know it well,
And feel rekindling virtue warm my breaft ;
Honour and gratitude their force refume
Within my heart, and
with is yours.
O Cecil, Cecil, what a foe haft thou,

every

A deadly foe, whilft hated Effex lives!

Bur. I know it well, but can affign no caufe.
Not. Ambition's restless hand has wound his thoughts
Too high for England's welfare; nay, the queen
Scarce fits in fafety on her throne, while he,
Th'audacious Effex, freely treads at large,
And breathes the common air. Ambition is
The only god he serves, to whom he'd facrifice
His honour, country, friends, and every tie
Of truth, and bond of nature; nay, his love.

Bur. I find this bus'ness work as I would have it.

[Afide."

The