Elizabeth chid him, but not severely, for the weight which he attached
unduly to her personal interests; yet she owned that, since it had been
the pleasure of Heaven to combine those interests with the weal of
her subjects, she did only her duty when she adopted such measures of
self-preservation as circumstances forced upon her; and if the council
in their wisdom should be of opinion that it was needful to continue
some restraint on the person of her unhappy sister of Scotland, she
trusted they would not blame her if she requested of the Countess of
Shrewsbury to use her with as much kindness as might be consistent with
her safe keeping. And with this intimation of her pleasure the council
was dismissed.
Never was more anxious and ready way made for "my Lord of Leicester,"
than as he passed through the crowded anterooms to go towards the
river-side, in order to attend her Majesty to her barge--never was
the voice of the ushers louder, to "make room, make room for the
noble Earl"--never were these signals more promptly and reverently
obeyed--never were more anxious eyes turned on him to obtain a glance
of favour, or even of mere recognition, while the heart of many a humble
follower throbbed betwixt the desire to offer his congratulations, and
the fear of intruding himself on the notice of one so infinitely above
him. The whole court considered the issue of this day's audience,
expected with so much doubt and anxiety, as a decisive triumph on the
part of Leicester, and felt assured that the orb of his rival satellite,
if not altogether obscured by his lustre, must revolve hereafter in a
dimmer and more distant sphere. So thought the court and courtiers, from
high to low; and they acted accordingly.
On the other hand, never did Leicester return the general greeting with
such ready and condescending courtesy, or endeavour more successfully
to gather (in the words of one who at that moment stood at no great
distance from him) "golden opinions from all sorts of men."
For all the favourite Earl had a bow a smile at least, and often a kind
word. Most of these were addressed to courtiers, whose names have long
gone down the tide of oblivion; but some, to such as sound strangely in
our ears, when connected with the ordinary matters of human life,
above which the gratitude of posterity has long elevated them. A few of
Leicester's interlocutory sentences ran as follows:-"Poynings, good morrow; and how does your wife and fair daughter? Why
come they not to court?--Adams, your suit is naught; the Queen will
grant no more monopolies. But I may serve you in another matter.--My
good Alderman Aylford, the suit of the City, affecting Queenhithe,
shall be forwarded as far as my poor interest can serve.--Master Edmund
Spenser, touching your Irish petition, I would willingly aid you, from
my love to the Muses; but thou hast nettled the Lord Treasurer."