"And now, I trust, Master Tressilian, this matter is ended," said the
Queen. "We will do something ere the night is older to reconcile old Sir
Hugh Robsart to the match. You have done your duty something more than
boldly; but we were no woman had we not compassion for the wounds which
true love deals, so we forgive your audacity, and your uncleansed
boots withal, which have well-nigh overpowered my Lord of Leicester's
perfumes."
So spoke Elizabeth, whose nicety of scent was one of the characteristics
of her organization, as appeared long afterwards when she expelled Essex
from her presence, on a charge against his boots similar to that which
she now expressed against those of Tressilian.
But Tressilian had by this time collected himself, astonished as he had
at first been by the audacity of the falsehood so feasibly supported,
and placed in array against the evidence of his own eyes. He rushed
forward, kneeled down, and caught the Queen by the skirt of her robe.
"As you are Christian woman," he said, "madam, as you are crowned Queen,
to do equal justice among your subjects--as you hope yourself to have
fair hearing (which God grant you) at that last bar at which we must all
plead, grant me one small request! Decide not this matter so hastily.
Give me but twenty-four hours' interval, and I will, at the end of that
brief space, produce evidence which will show to demonstration that
these certificates, which state this unhappy lady to be now ill at ease
in Oxfordshire, are false as hell!"
"Let go my train, sir!" said Elizabeth, who was startled at his
vehemence, though she had too much of the lion in her to fear; "the
fellow must be distraught. That witty knave, my godson Harrington, must
have him into his rhymes of Orlando Furioso! And yet, by this light,
there is something strange in the vehemence of his demand.--Speak,
Tressilian, what wilt thou do if, at the end of these four-and-twenty
hours, thou canst not confute a fact so solemnly proved as this lady's
illness?"
"I will lay down my head on the block," answered Tressilian.
"Pshaw!" replied the Queen, "God's light! thou speakest like a fool.
What head falls in England but by just sentence of English law? I ask
thee, man--if thou hast sense to understand me--wilt thou, if thou
shalt fail in this improbable attempt of thine, render me a good and
sufficient reason why thou dost undertake it?"
Tressilian paused, and again hesitated; because he felt convinced that
if, within the interval demanded, Amy should become reconciled to her
husband, he would in that case do her the worst of offices by again
ripping up the whole circumstances before Elizabeth, and showing
how that wise and jealous princess had been imposed upon by false
testimonials. The consciousness of this dilemma renewed his extreme
embarrassment of look, voice, and manner; he hesitated, looked down, and
on the Queen repeating her question with a stern voice and flashing
eye, he admitted with faltering words, "That it might be--he could not
positively--that is, in certain events--explain the reasons and grounds
on which he acted."