There was so much of dignity, so much of tenderness, in the Countess's
remonstrance, that it moved all that was noble and generous in the
soul of her husband. The scales seemed to fall from his eyes, and the
duplicity and tergiversation of which he had been guilty stung him at
once with remorse and shame.
"I am not worthy of you, Amy," he said, "that could weigh aught which
ambition has to give against such a heart as thine. I have a bitter
penance to perform, in disentangling, before sneering foes and astounded
friends, all the meshes of my own deceitful policy. And the Queen--but
let her take my head, as she has threatened."
"Take your head, my lord!" said the Countess, "because you used the
freedom and liberty of an English subject in choosing a wife? For shame!
it is this distrust of the Queen's justice, this apprehension of danger,
which cannot but be imaginary, that, like scarecrows, have induced you
to forsake the straightforward path, which, as it is the best, is also
the safest."
"Ah, Amy, thou little knowest!" said Dudley but instantly checking
himself, he added, "Yet she shall not find in me a safe or easy victim
of arbitrary vengeance. I have friends--I have allies--I will not, like
Norfolk, be dragged to the block as a victim to sacrifice. Fear not,
Amy; thou shalt see Dudley bear himself worthy of his name. I must
instantly communicate with some of those friends on whom I can best
rely; for, as things stand, I may be made prisoner in my own Castle."
"Oh, my good lord," said Amy, "make no faction in a peaceful state!
There is no friend can help us so well as our own candid truth and
honour. Bring but these to our assistance, and you are safe amidst a
whole army of the envious and malignant. Leave these behind you, and all
other defence will be fruitless. Truth, my noble lord, is well painted
unarmed."
"But Wisdom, Amy," answered Leicester, "is arrayed in panoply of
proof. Argue not with me on the means I shall use to render my
confession--since it must be called so--as safe as may be; it will
be fraught with enough of danger, do what we will.--Varney, we must
hence.--Farewell, Amy, whom I am to vindicate as mine own, at an expense
and risk of which thou alone couldst be worthy. You shall soon hear
further from me."
He embraced her fervently, muffled himself as before, and accompanied
Varney from the apartment. The latter, as he left the room, bowed low,
and as he raised his body, regarded Amy with a peculiar expression,
as if he desired to know how far his own pardon was included in the
reconciliation which had taken place betwixt her and her lord. The
Countess looked upon him with a fixed eye, but seemed no more conscious
of his presence than if there had been nothing but vacant air on the
spot where he stood.