ster, his arms crossed, and his brows bent on the ground, still and motionless as the effigies upon a sepulchre. Beside him stood the Lord Shrewsbury, then Earl Marshal of England, holding his baton of office. The Earl's sword was unbuckled, and lay before him on the floor.
"Ho, sir!" said the Queen, coming close up to Tressilian, and stamping on the floor with the action and manner of Henry himself; "you knew of this fair work--you are an accomplice in this deception which has been practised on us--you have been a main cause of our doing injustice?" Tressilian dropped on his knee before the Queen, his good sense showing him the risk of attempting any defence at that moment of irritation. "Art dumb, sirrah?" she continued; "thou knowest of this affair dost thou not?"
"Not, gracious madam, that this poor lady was Countess of Leicester."
"Nor shall any one know her for such," said Elizabeth. "Death of my life! Countess of Leicester!--I say Dame Amy Dudley; and well if she have not cause to write herself widow of the traitor Robert Dudley."
"Madam," said Leicester, "do with me what it may be your will to do, but work no injury on this gentleman; he hath in no way deserved it."
"And will he be the better for thy intercession," said the Queen, leaving Tressilian, who slowly arose, and rushing to Leicester, who continued kneeling--"the better for thy intercession, thou doubly false--thou doubly forsworn;--of thy intercession,
