The Queen was so much struck with this reply, which Leicester took care should be heard by no one but herself, that she was for the moment silenced, and the Earl had the temerity to pursue his advantage.  “Your Grace, who has pardoned so much, will excuse my throwing myself on your royal mercy for those expressions which were yester-morning accounted but a light offence.”

The Queen fixed her eyes on him while she replied, “Now, by Heaven, my lord, thy effrontery passes the bounds of belief, as well as patience!  But it shall avail thee nothing.—­What ho! my lords, come all and hear the news-my Lord of Leicester’s stolen marriage has cost me a husband, and England a king.  His lordship is patriarchal in his tastes—­one wife at a time was insufficient, and he designed us the honour of his left hand.  Now, is not this too insolent—­that I could not grace him with a few marks of court-favour, but he must presume to think my hand and crown at his disposal?  You, however, think better of me; and I can pity this ambitious man, as I could a child, whose bubble of soap has burst between his hands.  We go to the presence-chamber.—­My Lord of Leicester, we command your close attendance on us.”

All was eager expectation in the hall, and what was the universal astonishment when the Queen said to those next her, “The revels of Kenilworth are not yet exhausted, my lords and ladies—­we are to solemnize the noble owner’s marriage.”

There was an universal expression of surprise.

“It is true, on our royal word,” said the Queen; “he hath kept this a secret even from us, that he might surprise us with it at this very place and time.  I see you are dying of curiosity to know the happy bride.  It is Amy Robsart, the same who, to make up the May-game yesterday, figured in the pageant as the wife of his servant Varney.”

“For God’s sake, madam,” said the Earl, approaching her with a mixture of humility, vexation, and shame in his countenance, and speaking so low as to be heard by no one else, “take my head, as you threatened in your anger, and spare me these taunts!  Urge not a falling man—­tread not on a crushed worm.”

“A worm, my lord?” said the Queen, in the same tone; “nay, a snake is the nobler reptile, and the more exact similitude—­the frozen snake you wot of, which was warmed in a certain bosom—­”

“For your own sake—­for mine, madam,” said the Earl—­“while there is yet some reason left in me—­”

“Speak aloud, my lord,” said Elizabeth, “and at farther distance, so please you—­your breath thaws our ruff.  What have you to ask of us?”

“Permission,” said the unfortunate Earl humbly, “to travel to Cumnor Place.”

“To fetch home your bride belike?—­Why, ay—­that is but right, for, as we have heard, she is indifferently cared for there.  But, my lord, you go not in person; we have counted upon passing certain days in this Castle of Kenilworth, and it were slight courtesy to leave us without a landlord during our residence here.  Under your favour, we cannot think to incur such disgrace in the eyes of our subjects.  Tressilian shall go to Cumnor Place instead of you, and with him some gentleman who hath been sworn of our chamber, lest my Lord of Leicester should be again jealous of his old rival.—­Whom wouldst thou have to be in commission with thee, Tressilian?”