Review of Kenilworth. voted accomplice of Varney's villainy. This wretch, by his pretended astrological predictions, had assisted Varney in his several impositions on Leicester's credulity, and had been the preparer of the poison which had been administered to Sussex. He now undertook to prepare it for Amy, to whom it could be given in such a small quantity as would suffice to cause that heavy sickness which was necessary for the completion of Varney's scheme; and Varney sent him under the care of Lambourne to Cumnor. These worthy servants were seen in Gosling's inn by Wayland, who had been sent in the disguise of a pedlar by Tressilian, to obtain all necessary information concerning the Countess. Lambourne sent to Cumnor place for Foster; and Wayland took the opportunity of his absence to procure admission to the Countess under the pretence of furnishing her with such articles as his pack afforded. He had recognised Alasco, and from his knowledge of his character, suspected his purpose, and gave the Countess the same antidote which had already saved Sussex, recommending it as a cure for melancholy; but when the countess retired he told Janet, Foster's daughter, who was her sole attendant, to beware of the visitor whom Foster would that evening bring home with him. While they were yet speaking, Foster, Alasco, and Lambourne entered the garden where they stood, and Janet had scarcely time to conceal herself; from her retreat she overheard their conversation, which confirmed the truth of Wayland's mysterious communication. Leicester, whose ambitions hopes of becoming Elizabeth's husband were overturned by his marriage with Amy, gave Varney a letter for her, in which he desired her to bear Varney's name for a few hours at the approaching revels at Kenilworth. Varney proceeded to Cumnor, and on Amy's refusal voluntarily to degrade herself, he went to Alasco's laboratory, a room in a remote part of the building, where he continued for a short time closetted with his worthy associates. Soon after, Foster, whose puritanical and hypocritical qualms were removed by the all-powerful agency of gold, came to Amy's room and offered her a cordial; but his hand trembled, and Janet, forewarned of their attempt, took the flask, and discovered its contents by her father's refusal to allow her to drink it. Foster retired, and Janet left the countess, with a promise to return immediately with the means of her escape. During Janet's absence, Varney Review of Kenilworth. forced Amy te drink it; but Janet dispelled her terrors by an assurance that the pedlar's medicine was a powerful antidote, and that he was now waiting to accompany her in her flight from her persecutors. When the Countess heard that he was Tressilian's agent, she consented to accept his protection, and carrying with her a casket of jewels, followed Janet, who, by the trust which her father had always reposed in her, was enabled to conduct her safely from the grounds; her flight could also be concealed, as Janet's declaration of her illness would be eredited, in consequence of the potion which Varney had given to her. Wayland found it a task of great difficulty to conduct her safely across the country, but at length through the assistance of Dickie Sludge whom they overtook among a company of masquers, they reached Kenilworth in safety, and the Countess in a peasant's disguise entered the castle of her husband. Kenilworth was at this time a scene of revelry and confusion; preparations resounded on every side for the Queen's reception, and all the gentlemen of her court were in the castle. The Countess was conducted to an obscure apartment, and sent a note to Leicester by Wayland, who wondered at her writing to the patron of the wretch from whom she had so lately made her escape, and watched for Tressilian at the castle gate to obtain his advice with respect to its delivery. He lost the note, and Tressilian meanwhile had entered the castle by a postern, and was astonished at finding Amy in the apartment which had been assigned to him; he said he would protect her, and lead her that instant to the Queen, but she depended on Leicester's kindness, and made him promise not to interfere for twenty-four hours. He left her, and having met Wayland, threatened him with vengeance if he found not the letter immediately. Wayland, wearied out with this ungrateful service, where danger encompassed him on every side, determined to leave the castle, but first attempted to gain an interview with Amy. Lambourne, however, who by some means had become acquainted with the circumstance of Amy's concealment, met him on his way and turned him out of the castle; for he wished to catch the girl in Tressilian's apartment, and thus ruin him in the virgin Queen's estimation. Late in the evening the Queen arrived, and asked for Amy. Varney produced certificates of her illness from Foster and Alasco; but Tressilian denied their truth, and remembering his promise to Amy, required a delay of twenty-four hours Review of Kenilworth. to prove his allegation. This seeming equivocation displeased the Queen, and he was removed from her presence. In the mean time Amy, who thought her letter had reached Leicester, was watching for him with impatience; and when in the morning she heard a gentle rap at her door, thinking that Leicester sought admittance, she unbarred it without hesitation. But it was Lambourne who made his appearance. He was drunk, and her shrieks at his insults brought the keeper of the tower to her assistance. Lambourne and he quarrelled, and she escaped, leaving her glove in the ruffian's hand. She went to the garden and concealed herself in a grotto, intending to throw herself on the compassion of the first person who might pass. Leicester and the Queen came towards her, engaged in the most earnest conversation, and the Queen, having gently refused his suit of love, turned into the grotto, where Amy was standing. Elizabeth spoke to her, and Amy claimed her protection against Varney, and was surprised into the declaration that Leicester knew all. This roused the Queen's dormant jealousy, and she dragged Amy forward to confront her with him. She threatened him with a sovereign's vengeance if he had deceived her, and on his proudly declaring that he could demand justice from his peers, she ordered her Lord Marshal to attach him for treason. Amy rushed forward, and declared his innocence, and he, touched by her kindness, was going to confess their marriage, when Varney appeared and threw himself before the Queen. Amy besought her to inflict any punishment on her, but to save her from Varney, and the Queen, thinking she was deranged, ordered Lord Hunsdon to take her into custody. Varney then excused himself for the lies of which he was evidently guilty, by saying that lunacy was the disorder under which Amy labored, and that he had prevented her appearance as he was unwilling to expose his unhappy wife's infirmities. This accommodated matters between Leicester and the Qeeen, and a royal hunt filled the intervening time until evening, when Varney informed his master of the particulars of Amy's escape, which he had heard from Foster; but as he made no allusion to his own iniquitous attempt, Leicester imputed her appearance at Kenilworth to the force of jealousy, and went straight to see her. Amy refused to go with Varney to Cumnor, and proposed to Leicester the open path of truth; he required time to make his arrangements, and promised again to see her. Varney, Review of Kenilworth. who saw that either Amy or he must now perish, dissuaded Leicester from any thoughts of rebellion,-accused Amy of being too intimate with Tressilian, and in corroboration of his charge told of his having met the latter in Cumnor park-of the correspondence established between him and Gosling, by means of Wayland, in whose company Amy had at length eloped, and of her having concealed herself in Tressilian's apartment, of which circumstance he produced her glove as a sufficient proof. Leicester was much agitated, and now opened the jewel-casket which the Countess had dropped in the grotto, and which, when he was leaving her apartment in disguise, Dickie Sludge had given to him in Tressilian's name to be delivered to her; he thought them to be the price of her infamy, and determined on vengeance. Leicester went to the Queen, and the masques and other entertainments of the evening commenced. In the mean time the Queen's physician, misled by her apparent inconsistency, confirmed the opinion of Amy's madness, and she was privately delivered to Varney and conveyed from the castle; but ere long Leicester repented of his precipitancy, and sent Lambourne after his master with a letter. During the presentment of the masques, Tressilian had demanded a conference with Leicester, and after the Queen retired they met in the garden, where Tressilian, alluding only to Varney, spoke of Amy's unworthy husband; but Leicester, supposing him to be master of his secret, took fire at his supposed insult, and they fought. Being interrupted, they met again next day, and Tressilian disarmed, was about to fall a sacrifice to Leicester's jealousy, when Dickie Sludge stayed his arm, and gave him the lost letter. This, and the declaration of Wayland, who now came up, explained every thing, and Leicester acknowledged his marriage. Dickie had mischievously purloined the letter, and afterwards could not find Wayland, who had been expelled by Lambourne. It was he who had presented the casket to Leicester, and who had watched his every turn; and thus was enabled to prevent the consequences of his own unlucky pranks. When Leicester unfolded the fatal mystery to the Queen, she was much agitated and sent Tressilian and Raleigh straight to Cumnor, whither Varney had conveyed the Countess. On their way they found Lambourne expiring from a wound which he had received from Varney, who, having sent Foster and the Countess forward, and having waited for him to Review of Kenilworth. settle on what terms he would undertake Amy's murder, shot him, that he might pretend not to have received his message. We will here pursue the tale in our author's own words. When they (Varney's party) had arrived at Cumnor-place, the Countess asked eagerly for Janet, and shewed much alarm when informed that she was no longer to have the attendance of that amiable girl. My daughter is dear to me, madam, said Foster, gruffly; and I desire not that she should get the court-tricks of lying and scaping-somewhat too much of that has she learned already, an' it please your ladyship. The Countess, much fatigued, and greatly terrified by the circumstances of her journey, made no answer to this insolence, but mildly expressed a wish to retire to her chamber. Ay, ay, muttered Foster, 'tis but reasonable; but, under favour, you go not to your gew-gaw toy-house yonder-you sleep to-night in better security. I would it were in my grave, said the Countess; but that mortal feelings shiver at the idea of soul and body parting. You, I guess, have no chance to shiver at that, replied Foster. My lord comes hither to-morrow, and doubtless you will make your own ways good with him. But does he come hither?-does he indeed, good Foster? O ay, good Foster! replied the other. But what Foster shall I be tomorrow, when you speak of me to my lord?-though all I have done was to obey his own orders. You shall be my protector-a rough one indeed-but still a protector, answered the Countess. O, that Janet were but here ! She is better where she is, answered Foster-one of you is enough to perplex a plain head-but will you taste any refreshment? O no, no-my chamber, my chamber. I trust, she said, I may secure it on the inside. With all my heart, answered Foster, so I may secure it on the outside; and taking a light, he led the way to a part of the building where Amy had never been, and conducted her up a stair of great height, preceded by one of the old women with a lamp. At the head of the stair, which seemed of almost immeasurable height, they crossed a short wooden gallery, formed of black oak, and very narrow, at the farther end of which was a strong oaken door, which opened and admitted them into the miser's apartment, homely in its accommodations in the very last degree, and, except in name, little different from a prison vault. Foster stopped at the door, and gave the lamp to the Countess, without either offering or permitting the attendance of the old woman who carried it. The lady stood not upon ceremony, but taking it hastily, barred the door, and secured it with the ample means provided on the inside for that purpose. Varney, meanwhile, lurked behind on the stairs, but hearing the door barred, he now came up on tiptoe, and Foster, winking to him, pointed with selfcomplacence to a piece of concealed machinery in the wail, which, playing with ease and little noise, dropped a part of the wooden gallery, after the manner of a draw-bridge, so as to cut off all communication between the door of the bedroom which he usually inhabited, and the landing-place of the high winding-stair which ascended to it. 1 be rope by which the machinery was wrought was generally carried within the bed-chamber, it being Foster's object to provide against invasion from without; but now that it was intended to secure the prisoner within, the cord had been brought over to the landing-place, and was there made fast, when Foster, with much complacency, had dropped the unsuspected trap-door. Varney looked with great attention at the machinery, and peeped more than once down the deep abyss which was opened by the fall of the trap-door. It was dark as pitch, and seemed profoundly deep, going, as Foster informed bis confederate in a whisper, nigh to the lowest vault of the castle, Varney cast 1 |