"Madam," replied Varney, "it is in vain to plead the cause of human frailty before a judge to whom it is unknown, or that of love to one who never yields to the passion"--he paused an instant, and then added, in a very low and timid tone--"which she inflicts upon all others."
Elizabeth tried to frown, but smiled in her own despite, as she answered, "Thou art a marvellously impudent knave. Art thou married to the girl?"
Leicester's feelings became so complicated and so painfully intense, that it seemed to him as if his life was to depend on the answer made by Varney, who, after a moment's real hesitation, answered, "Yes."
"Thou false villain!" said Leicester, bursting forth into rage, yet unable to add another word to the sentence which he had begun with such emphatic passion.
"Nay, my lord," said the Queen, "we will, by your leave, stand between this fellow and your anger. We have not yet done with him.--Knew your master, my Lord of Leicester, of this fair work of yours? Speak truth, I command thee, and I will be thy warrant from danger on every quarter."
"Gracious madam," said Varney, "to speak Heaven's truth, my lord was the cause of the whole matter."
"Thou villain, wouldst thou betray me?" said Leicester.
"Speak on," said the Queen hastily, her cheek colouring, and her eyes sparkling, as she addressed
