Much applause greeted the actors upon the success of these parts, but the crowning scene was the third and last—­the united terms of the preceding ones.  The effect was grand beyond description.  The scene was supposed to be the great hall of Kenilworth, hung with silken tapestry, lit with numerous torches.  The odor of choicest perfumes fell upon the senses, while soft strains of music floated in the distance.  In the centre of the background forming this magnificent apartment was a chair of state, with canopy in imitation of a throne, and covered with rich drapery, on which is seated one personating Queen Elizabeth, whose smile is resting upon the courtly form of Walter Raleigh, upon whom she is in the act of conferring knighthood.  Grouped around the throne are characters representing the Earls of Leicester, Essex, Oxford, Huntingdon, and a train of lords and ladies, conspicuous among whom was the Duchess of Rutland, the favorite maid of honor in Her Majesty’s household.  The character of Elizabeth was sustained by Lady Rosamond, arrayed in queenly robes and blazing with jewels.

“She looks every inch a queen,” exclaimed one of the spectators.

“The young knight’s heart is in a dangerous situation,” said another.

“Beware, Sir Walter,” said a third; “Essex and Leicester are dangerous rivals, especially the latter.”

Kneeling with courtly grace was Lieutenant Trevelyan in the role of Sir Walter Raleigh.  The young officer had performed his part with that graceful ease which had so won the affection of the great sovereign.

A slight shudder passed through the form of Lady Rosamond as she remembered his sad fate.  Thinking the present no time for boding ill-starred events, she hastily turned her mind from the subject.

As the Earl of Leicester, Captain Douglas was apparelled in white.  “His shoes were of white velvet, with white silk stockings, the upper part of white velvet lined with silver; his doublet, of cloth of silver; the close jerkin, of white velvet embroidered with silver and seed pearls; his girdle was of white velvet with buckles of gold.  The scabbard of his sword was of white velvet and gold; his poniard and sword belt mounted with gold.  Over he wore a loose robe of white satin with broad collar richly embroidered in gold.  Around his neck was the golden collar of the garter, and around his knee the azure garter."[1] Truly was the costume executed, and raised admiration warm and long sustained.

[Footnote 1:  Leicester’s description taken from Sir Walter Scott.]

Mr. Stanley, the son of an influential citizen, personated Sussex, who wore a purple velvet doublet, lined with golden cloth, and a richly embroidered jerkin of the same color with broad golden collar, black silk stockings and shoes of purple velvet.  A richly ornamented girdle and gold mounted sword completed the costume, being rich and elegant and next in splendour to that of Leicester.  The remaining nobles were dressed in courtly apparel and becoming the scene.  Mary Douglas was, it is needless to add, in the capacity of the favorite Duchess of Rutland, the friend and confidante of Her Majesty.  The whole had a beautiful effect and gave additional eclat to the evening’s series of entertainments.