Act 5 — Scene VII.—A ROOM IN THE PALACE.

Leicester’s present on a marble table, backed by a large steel mirror which reflects it. The Queen sitting on a sofa, in conversation with the Earl of Leicester who stands at a little distance.

Leicester. What thinks my royal Mistress of my symboled future now? (he point to it) These figures seem to speak and challenge me to ask.—I always felt that thought was inspiration! The vision rapidly developes into facts. You’ll live to see the symbol a reality. Drake’s deeds of wonder bring it up in force.

Queen. Miraculous! Incomprehensible! Drake’s a prodigy!—At sight I read him in the first moment’s interview. He’s made for greatness not his own. A Demi-god could not accomplish his achievements, so vast in their proportions, and whose effects, perhaps, shall run through Time!—Nor dare—nor even conceive them. A clear impossibility—by himself to mortal man! The finger of God is visible throughout for his own end—then unseen! Drake’s eyes are opened now, and so are mine! I see the work and aim of Providence. We are but passive instruments to carry out his will. ’Tis always thus, Leicester. I have observed it well through life. God brings about His greatest ends by means, to us, inadequate—to show His power, and that the work is His; lest we should say “my hand hath done it.” You see how all Drake’s other ships were sunk or scattered to the winds, that he hurled on an unknown ocean! left alone! should be the chosen means to change the destiny of the world.

Leicester. It is a mighty prize, howe’er he dropped upon it, and marvellous as you say. What power to you!—To Philip, most vexatious loss at present—to say the least, inconvenient in the extreme—your seizures, of that Genoese loan, and now this treasure, have crippled him. He is at a stand still for money, notwithstanding his Indies. Alva is in despair—his army in mutiny. This would have relieved them of all their difficulties. They are in a dreadful way. Mendoza spluttering at a huge rate, has frightened Cecil with a threat of war—and he in his alarm would give it up. But the whole country is enthusiastic about Drake.—He is the universal hero!

Queen (indignant). A fig for Cecil and the whole Council—a set of fools—some are afraid of Philip—some are in his pay. I’ll stick to it, Leicester—every silver bar—every quoit of gold. It is the gift of Providence—my power, my safety. I have had my doubts and fears! Now I feel that I can defy the world. Drake despises Spain; laughs at invasion; says Philip can’t defend himself from us. He swears he’ll drive him from the ocean in a month—and I believe him. He (with emphasis) knows what he’s talking about. Drake’s the man!—Drake’s the man for me!

A Page announces the Spanish Ambassador.

Page. His Excellency the Spanish Ambassador.

Queen (startled and confused). God’s death, Leicester! I thought as much. Here he comes to demand it. You must retire into my private room (with decision) I’ll face it out, Robin! (exit Leicester. To the Page) Admit his Excellency. (Exit Page.) I must play my cards with skilful hand. By flattery or menace—to draw from him his policy. (Enter Ambassador. The Queen bounds from the sofa to meet him with affected friendliness.) Don Bernardino de Mendoza! I am always glad to see you—in your private character. But are you now come as a King-at-Arms to declare war?

Mendoza. No! No! My instructions from my master are, to cultivate peace—But from your Majesty’s preparations, I should imagine that you meant war, on a large scale. Your fleet at Chatham! and the noise of fife and drum throughout the land.

Queen (interrupting). ’Tis only the commission of array for training—Though England keeps on foot no armies, she is always armed—Her freemen are her soldiers. In times of danger, she gets ready; I don’t intend to be caught sleeping. What are those mighty naval preparations for at Cadiz? Six thousand additional seamen!

Ambassador. Of that—not having the gift of inspiration! I can give your Majesty no information. My master finds no fault with you, but your ministers encourage, and aid rebellion against his authority in the Low Countries, and English Corsairs, not content with robbing his merchantmen in the channel, have now extended their ravages to the Indies and the Pacific. The notorious Drake is, even now, returned with enormous booty. He is cherished and feted, as if the exploits of a robber were some great national triumph. His Majesty expects that you will not only order immediate restitution, but punish the offender as he deserves.

Queen. Tush! Tush! Your master cannot be serious. If so, he must either be a fool, or think me one. If my ships should invade the possessions of the King of Spain, the act could not be considered Piracy—It would be war. Now your complaint shows that the nations are at peace, and therefore that the acts are not my acts. He has been a King of England, and knows well, that the laws of England do not extend to the Pacific—Hey! Hey! Our courts have neither authority to try, nor means to punish offences committed in the other hemisphere.

Ambassador (with haste). Drake is now in England with the booty.

Queen. Well! Drake has committed no offence against the laws of his country. What exclusive right has your master, the King of Spain, to the Indies, the whole continent of America, and the wide Pacific?

Ambassador (with much earnestness). The Pope who, as Vicar of Christ, has authority over the whole earth, has given the Indies and the Pacific, to Spain.

Queen (laughing outright). Did Charles the fifth owe his empire to the Pope, when he sent his army to imprison His Holiness and seize the possessions of the church? Hey! Will his son Philip acknowledge that he now owes them to the Pope? I trow not! Let the Pope only interfere with Philip’s dominions—We should soon hear of another Spanish army marching upon Rome, and probably Don Bernardino de Mendoza in command of it, to make the Pope a second time prisoner, and shut him up in his Castle of St. Angelo. That is the way Philip would acknowledge his authority over the earth; and that you would show your faith in it. Ha! Ha! Ha! (Laughter, in which Mendoza cannot help joining. The Queen walks about, exulting in her triumph).

Ambassador. That would be an extreme case, your Majesty.

Queen (bursting into a laugh). Capital! An extreme case! It would be an extreme case, for the Vicar of God upon earth. For myself you know, I utterly deny his authority altogether, as well as his office (with sarcastic emphasis). But look you here, a Pope has given Ireland to England, for an eternal possession, by a solemn bull; and yet, your master Philip has invaded that country, to wrest it from us—His troops are at this moment in Ireland. Tell your master from me, that I will hear no complaints, nor give him any answer, until these are withdrawn (she walks proudly and defiant).

Ambassador. I am sorry for it, but if you allow these measures to be pursued, you will see when too late, your throne slip from under you. I know your resources, compared with those of France, and that your only safety is behind the shield of Spain.

Queen (sarcastically) I am not going to quarrel with France, who with good reason, keeps a jealous eye on Spain, you know that well, and so does Philip. I intend only to maintain myself, as my father has done before me, independent in my own realm. And as for losing my throne, what raised me to it? Under God, my people who, Catholic and Protestant, alike, agree in this—To hate with all their hearts, a foreign jurisdiction (she looks with insinuation at him). France has not forgotten the battle of the Spurs, or the still greater lesson taught her within living memory; when her sixty thousand men, were driven from the shores of the Isle of Wight, like the small dust before the whirlwind by the tall yeomen of the soil (she proudly walks aside, then boldly utters). The audacious foe that lands upon our shores, will learn to his cost that he has to encounter men. The English of the present day have not lost the spirit of their noble fathers. They will defend their liberties to the death; and should they fall in the great struggle, with the help of God, he will find the body of their Queen, like that of the great Harold in the midst them. With England I will live or die, (she storms about the room, the Ambassador gazing on her with stupified amazement).

Ambassador. I am sorry your Majesty views my advice in that light. I shall now take my leave, and report to my master the result of this interview.

Exit Ambassador.

Re-enter Earl of Leicester.

The Queen walking about agitated, chafed, but exulting, Leicester laughing as he enters.

Leicester. Nobly done, my Royal Mistress—all yourself—you frightened Mendoza, more than he does Cecil. He was under cow from the first and dared not speak up to you as he does to the council. You acted your part to the life, and cannot even now throw off the mask.

Queen (excited). God’s death, Robin! No mask, no acting at all. My blood was up, I was in thorough earnest; it is something to stand on solid ground, I’m not going to be bullied now by the empty bluster of a Spanish coxcomb, or his master either—Drake has opened my eyes and theirs too! this load of wealth! Our strength! Their weakness. Leicester, he has shown me a secret! (She looks at him with intense meaning) a power that must rule the world!

Leicester (astonished and interested). Indeed, my Liege! I did not know he was given to such deep state-craft.

Queen (with proud emphasis). Why man! With one hand I grasp the trident of the ocean, with the other California and the Indies. Drake’s a Prophet—he knows the true strength and policy of England. The destiny of nations! (She storms about, Leicester eyeing her with astonishment and awe). Come along, Robin! I must see these wise men of the council and let them know what I think of their drivelling. I say Drake’s conduct is only self defence! Just retaliation! The money is lawful prize. I’ll give Sussex a talking to, for his intermeddling—’Fore God, I’ll set some of them by the feet before all’s over about this, I’ll bracelet them with iron, both arms and ankles. Come along, Robin! Come along. (Aside as she goes off). Three millions! Mother of God! Three millions.

(Exeunt).