The Queen, overwhelmed in her turn by Amy’s vehemence, stood silent for an instant, and then replied, “Why, God ha’ mercy, woman!  I see thou canst talk fast enough when the theme likes thee.  Nay, tell me, woman,” she continued, for to the impulse of curiosity was now added that of an undefined jealousy that some deception had been practised on her—­“tell me, woman—­for, by God’s day, I will know—­whose wife, or whose paramour, art thou!  Speak out, and be speedy.  Thou wert better daily with a lioness than with Elizabeth.”

Urged to this extremity, dragged as it were by irresistible force to the verge of the precipice which she saw, but could not avoid—­permitted not a moment’s respite by the eager words and menacing gestures of the offended Queen, Amy at length uttered in despair, “The Earl of Leicester knows it all.”

“The Earl of Leicester!” said Elizabeth, in utter astonishment.  “The Earl of Leicester!” she repeated with kindling anger.  “Woman, thou art set on to this—­thou dost belie him—­he takes no keep of such things as thou art.  Thou art suborned to slander the noblest lord and the truest-hearted gentleman in England!  But were he the right hand of our trust, or something yet dearer to us, thou shalt have thy hearing, and that in his presence.  Come with me—­come with me instantly!”

As Amy shrunk back with terror, which the incensed Queen interpreted as that of conscious guilt, Elizabeth rapidly advanced, seized on her arm, and hastened with swift and long steps out of the grotto, and along the principal alley of the Pleasance, dragging with her the terrified Countess, whom she still held by the arm, and whose utmost exertions could but just keep pace with those of the indignant Queen.

Leicester was at this moment the centre of a splendid group of lords and ladies, assembled together under an arcade, or portico, which closed the alley.  The company had drawn together in that place, to attend the commands of her Majesty when the hunting-party should go forward, and their astonishment may be imagined when, instead of seeing Elizabeth advance towards them with her usual measured dignity of motion, they beheld her walking so rapidly that she was in the midst of them ere they were aware; and then observed, with fear and surprise, that her features were flushed betwixt anger and agitation, that her hair was loosened by her haste of motion, and that her eyes sparkled as they were wont when the spirit of Henry VIII. mounted highest in his daughter.  Nor were they less astonished at the appearance of the pale, attenuated, half-dead, yet still lovely female, whom the Queen upheld by main strength with one hand, while with the other she waved aside the ladies and nobles who pressed towards her, under the idea that she was taken suddenly ill.  “Where is my Lord of Leicester?” she said, in a tone that thrilled with astonishment all the courtiers who stood around.  “Stand forth, my Lord of Leicester!”