“Yet you seem discontented when I propose throwing up a dangerous game, which may end in the ruin of both of us.”

“I, my lord?” said Varney; “surely I have no cause to regret your lordship’s retreat!  It will not be Richard Varney who will incur the displeasure of majesty, and the ridicule of the court, when the stateliest fabric that ever was founded upon a prince’s favour melts away like a morning frost-work.  I would only have you yourself to be assured, my lord, ere you take a step which cannot be retracted, that you consult your fame and happiness in the course you propose.”

“Speak on, then, Varney,” said the Earl; “I tell thee I have determined nothing, and will weigh all considerations on either side.”

“Well, then, my lord,” replied Varney, “we will suppose the step taken, the frown frowned, the laugh laughed, and the moan moaned.  You have retired, we will say, to some one of your most distant castles, so far from court that you hear neither the sorrow of your friends nor the glee of your enemies, We will suppose, too, that your successful rival will be satisfied (a thing greatly to be doubted) with abridging and cutting away the branches of the great tree which so long kept the sun from him, and that he does not insist upon tearing you up by the roots.  Well; the late prime favourite of England, who wielded her general’s staff and controlled her parliaments, is now a rural baron, hunting, hawking, drinking fat ale with country esquires, and mustering his men at the command of the high sheriff—­”

“Varney, forbear!” said the Earl.

“Nay, my lord, you must give me leave to conclude my picture.—­Sussex governs England—­the Queen’s health fails—­the succession is to be settled—­a road is opened to ambition more splendid than ambition ever dreamed of.  You hear all this as you sit by the hob, under the shade of your hall-chimney.  You then begin to think what hopes you have fallen from, and what insignificance you have embraced; and all that you might look babies in the eyes of your fair wife oftener than once a fortnight.”

“I say, Varney,” said the Earl, “no more of this.  I said not that the step, which my own ease and comfort would urge me to, was to be taken hastily, or without due consideration to the public safety.  Bear witness to me, Varney; I subdue my wishes of retirement, not because I am moved by the call of private ambition, but that I may preserve the position in which I may best serve my country at the hour of need.—­Order our horses presently; I will wear, as formerly, one of the livery cloaks, and ride before the portmantle.  Thou shalt be master for the day, Varney—­neglect nothing that can blind suspicion.  We will to horse ere men are stirring.  I will but take leave of my lady, and be ready.  I impose a restraint on my own poor heart, and wound one yet more dear to me; but the patriot must subdue the husband.”

Having said this in a melancholy but firm accent, he left the dressing apartment.