Sir Thomas Overbury proceeded from the presence of the King, to give those orders which were to make two happy hearts cold, two noble and amiable beings wretched. Perhaps he felt some repugnance to the task, some slight touch of remorse at an act which he could not reconcile to his own conscience; for he had not been so seared and hardened in the fire of worldly pursuits, as to be callous to the reproach of the internal monitor.

Ambition, however, is a Moloch, which requires the sacrifice of the sweetest children of the heart; and he went on to seek Lord Rochester, thinking that he had swept a great obstacle from his path. How little did he know--how little does man ever learn to know--that there is an element always wanting in our calculations, one that we seldom think of, and to which we never give weight enough--the will of God! That which overrules the wise, conquers the mighty, frustrates the persevering, and leaves human schemes and purposes but as bubbles glittering in the sunshine, to break when they have had their hour.

He found Lord Rochester sitting in a rich dressing-gown of brocade, with slippers on his feet, and a small purple cap upon his head, partaking of a rich and luxurious breakfast, at an hour which was then considered very late. Wine was before him; for the reader must remember that those were days when the use of tea or coffee was unknown; and the only difference between the refined man of pleasure and the robust man of labour was, that the one seasoned his meal with wine or mead, the other with ale or beer.

Of the potent contents of the flagon, the King's favourite had partaken once or twice--not so deeply, indeed, as to have any effect upon his understanding, but largely enough to give him a certain feeling of decision and determination, which was in general wanting in his character. There were matters which he had long wished to communicate to Overbury; but in regard to which he had felt that sort of timidity that a lad, lately emancipated from school, experiences in the presence of his old preceptor; and now, feeling himself in the mood to open his mind to his friend, he received him with greater willingness and cordiality than he had displayed towards him for some weeks.

"Well, Sir Thomas," he said, shaking his hand without rising, "have you had breakfast? Come, sit down and take some."

"I broke my fast three hours ago," replied Overbury; "but I will sit down and talk to you, my good Lord, while you go on with your meal, for I have much to say to you."

"And I to you, Tom," rejoined the Peer; "I have hardly seen you for this last week, and secrets accumulate, you know. First for your business, however; for yours is always more important than mine;" and he helped himself to another cup of wine.

"Mine is very important indeed," said Overbury; "I wish to speak to you about the Lady Arabella."

"And I to you, too," interrupted Rochester; "that was the very subject in my thoughts; and so perhaps I had better begin at once. As to that marriage, Tom, we must hear no more of it."

Overbury started, and his brow contracted. "You are jesting, Rochester!" he exclaimed. "Not hear any more of it?--Why not?"

"Faith, I am not jesting in the least," replied Lord Rochester; "and as for the why not, I will tell you in a few words. I am going to marry another woman; and this confounded English law does not permit polygamy, you know."

"I have heard so," replied Sir Thomas Overbury, mastering his indignation for the time; "but I am no great lawyer. We certainly see a great deal of polygamy at the Court. May I ask who is the fair object whom you intend to make Viscountess Rochester?"

The tone of indifference which he assumed delivered his friend from the fear of opposition, and he replied at once, "My fair Countess of Essex, good Knight."

"What, another man's wife!" exclaimed Overbury; "why that is polygamy the wrong way. Nay, Rochester, now you are certainly jesting with me; but I am not to be taken in."

"I am as serious as the dead," answered the favourite; "and let me tell you, Overbury, she is not his wife, and very soon will be so no longer even in name. The marriage is about to be dissolved, and then her hand is mine. We have the consent and aid of Lord Northampton, the fullest approbation and assistance of Lady Suffolk, and her father's acquiescence. I will answer for the King's cordial co-operation. So that the matter is settled and secured."

"Rochester! Rochester!" exclaimed Sir Thomas Overbury, giving way at length to the feelings of his heart; "think, I beseech you; think what you are about!"

"Oh, I have thought very well," replied the Viscount; "so there is no use of saying a word about it, Tom."

"Nay, but you must hear me," said his friend, "and I do entreat you, remember that I speak but from affection and devotion to yourself. I say again, think, Rochester, what you are doing. Remember, this woman's conduct is the common scandal of the Court and the City. Recollect that she is but a ----" and he used a word which I dare not write upon this page. "Her uncle and her mother are but panders to her vices; and infamous must he become who dares to wed that woman, who has without excuse broken through every sacred tie, and made herself the impudent gazing-stock of Europe. I say, Rochester, think of the disgrace, think of the shame that will fall upon you, when men point to your wife, and tell her history. Remember how an act not half so gross stained and degraded one of the noblest men that lived within these seas,--I mean Charles Blount,--who raised himself by high and daring actions against the enemy in the field, to the Earldom of Devonshire; the conqueror of Tyrone, the pacificator of Ireland--I say, recollect the disgrace that fell upon him, in consequence of a marriage with the aunt of this very woman's husband, and do not forget that in his case there were excuses that do not exist in yours. That he was the lover of her youth, the man to whom her hand had been promised, before she was compelled against her will to bestow it on another; that she never from the first concealed her love towards him, or promised aught but cold obedience to the man who was forced upon her; and yet, from the hour that he so disgraced himself as to wed Rich's divorced wife, he withered away, with shame, sorrow, and despair, and died in his prime, leaving a blighted name, which, but for that one act, would have lived for ever in renown. Oh, Rochester, consider all this; consider the daily, hourly misery of knowing that your wife is looked on as a harlot, when you might, were you so minded, place yourself upon the topmost pinnacle of fortune, rise to the highest rank that the state admits under royalty, and found a family which might go on, and bear your name with honour to posterity."

"I have considered all," answered Rochester, coldly; "and I am quite determined. As to the marriage with the Lady Arabella, you are deceiving yourself. I heard last night a whisper that she is already married to William Seymour."

"Nonsense!" cried Overbury. "Your open love for this Dame of Essex may have made her show some favour to another, but to pique you. But as to her marriage, that is some idle report of the poor fools of the ante-chamber. She is not married--she cannot be married."

"Pique me!" exclaimed Rochester, with a laugh; "that were vain sport, Overbury; I am cased in proof. However, to marry another man would be carrying the joke somewhat far; and she is married, depend upon it. It is no court gossip; I had it from those who have sharp eyes, and sharper ears. She is married to William Seymour, as sure as my name is Rochester."

"Well, choose some one else, then," cried Sir Thomas; "choose any one but this woman--choose anything but disgrace."

"But I do not see the disgrace," exclaimed Rochester, who had heard him throughout with a heated cheek and contracted brow; "there is a great difference between Lady Rich and Lady Frances Howard, whom they call Lady Essex. I tell you, though some ceremony was performed in their childhood, she is not his wife; and the pretended marriage may be dissolved. Then, too, she has never loved any one but me; she has never pretended to love this man; she abhors, she detests him; she has always told him so. For me she is ready to sacrifice everything----"

"She has sacrificed too much already," answered Overbury. But seeing by Rochester's angry look that he had gone much farther than was politic, and that nothing he could say would change his resolution, he added, after a moment's pause, "Well, Rochester, do me justice, and remember that I have but spoken for your good, as I believe it to be. I may be mistaken; probably am; but your happiness I wish sincerely."

"No man's happiness can be secured, but in his own way," replied Rochester.

"True," rejoined Overbury; "but his fortunes may. To those, this sad passion is the greatest bar; and you have yourself owned that, in seeking them, I have always counselled you aright. It shall be my task still, to do the best I can to promote them; and if this be, as I imagine, a false step which you are about to take, nothing shall be wanting on my part to avert all evil consequences."

"I dare say not," replied Rochester, drily; "and now to talk of some more pleasant subject. What does the King propose for the day's amusement?"

"A Privy Council," replied Overbury, forcing himself to speak in a tone of raillery, which was but too evidently assumed; "and after that to commit William Seymour to the Tower. Perhaps he may burn a heretic in the afternoon by way of fireworks, and end by writing a disquisition for the bishops upon the royal supremacy. You see the bill of fare is various."

"Yes," answered Rochester, "but none of the dishes much to my taste. But, good faith, I must get on my new suit of amber silk, and visit his Majesty before the Council."

"Then I will leave you, my good Lord," replied Overbury, "and still beg you to believe that anything I have said this day has been spoken in duty, not in opposition; and so I take my leave."

From the apartments of Rochester he hurried back to his own; and then, having closed the door, he gave himself up to the feelings of anger and indignation which possessed him. He struck his hand upon his brow: he walked vehemently up and down the room; he cursed the folly of Rochester; he upbraided himself for taking any part in the rise of such a man.

"And for this," he cried, "for this I have destroyed the peace, and broken through the happiness of two good and noble people. To be laughed at, to be made a fool of, to have my best schemes thwarted--all for a base, licentious woman! And this sweet lady on whom I have brought misery--can she be really married to William Seymour? It is not improbable; the very conduct of this man may have driven her on to give her hand clandestinely to another--and I have gone and destroyed them! Would to God I had not been so hasty!" and he sat down and meditated over the act with regret.

But the past--the irremediable past, the only one thing certain to man's limited view, was set as a seal upon the deed, which nothing could tear off; and yet he--as many other men would have done in his circumstances--turned his thoughts to the retrieval of that which could not be retrieved.

"What can be done?" he thought. "It may not yet be too late. If they are prepared to fly, as the King suspected, and as is probably the case, they may have time yet, if they have warning. I can delay the warrants. Then the Council will have to assemble; there will be a long and tiresome harangue of an hour--discussions, perhaps. The water is near--the wind fair. She shall have warning at least;" and sitting down, he wrote, in a feigned hand, the following few words to Arabella Seymour.

"Lady, a friend gives you intimation that danger hangs over your head. If you have the means to fly, and have aught that fears discovery in this Court, go at once. You may count upon one hour, but not more."

He folded, sealed it, and hurried through the court towards the apartments of the lady. Within a few steps of the door, he met one of her inferior maids, not Ida Mara, apparently coming from her mistress's room; and recognising her at once, he said, "Take this back to your Lady directly, my good girl. I had it from a gentleman this moment, who said that it was of urgent importance."

The girl took the billet, and saying that she would carry it to Arabella at once, returned towards her mistresss chamber, while Overbury bent his steps to the council-room, where he had left a young clerk making out the warrants.

"Well, are they done?" said the Knight.

"One is ready, sir," replied the clerk, "and the other wants but a few words."

Overbury took up the paper which was completed, and read it slowly through.

"Good Heaven!" he exclaimed. "This will never do. Why, it is a warrant against the Lady Arabella, as if she were a common felon. Recollect, sir, that she is the King's cousin. It ought to have been a simple summons to appear before the Council."

"You said two warrants, Sir Thomas," replied the clerk.

"Well, at all events," exclaimed the Knight, sharply, "this will not do;" and he tore the paper, throwing the fragments under the table. "There, leave that, leave that! and make out a summons. The Lady Arabella's case is the most important. Remember you give her her proper style, sir."

"I am sure I do not know what that is," answered the clerk.

"If you look in that book, sir, you will find it," rejoined the Knight; "it is not very difficult to discover. You can finish the warrant against Mr. Seymour afterwards; I will return for the summons in half an hour;" and away he went to inform the King that there had been a mistake in drawing out the papers, but that they would be ready shortly.

He found James I. still in a high state of perturbation, which was increased by the tidings that the warrants were not yet ready.

"The de'ils in the clerks!" he exclaimed. "The lazy loons are getting daily more slow, though not more circumspect. Why, the lassie may take wing, and be away afore the warrants are ready. Go your ways and hasten him, Sir Thomas. You can write a good hand yourself, and need not mind holding a pen at the King's command."

"I shall do so, as in duty bound, sire," replied Overbury, "and I can make out that against Mr. Seymour, while the clerk finishes the one against the Lady Arabella;" and he accordingly retired, mentally resolving that the assistance which he was about to lend should not greatly accelerate the drawing up of the papers.

When he was gone, the King continued for a minute or two to move about in his cabinet, with the sort of irritable activity which has acquired the name of fidgetting. Changing the place of this article and that, pulling the points of his hose, buttoning and unbuttoning his pourpoint, sitting down and then rising up, and displaying many signs and symptoms of that state of ennui in which impatience is blended with listlessness.

At the end of that time, however, there was a gentle tap at the door of the cabinet, and, exclaiming pettishly, "Come in, come in!" the King fixed his eyes upon the entrance, at which immediately appeared the stout, raw-boned person, and broad, but somewhat coarse face, of one of his Scotch attendants.

"Ah, Maxwell!" cried James, "why, where ha'e you been, man? I thought all the world had forgotten their loyalty, and left their King, without respect and decency. Here was Rochester came in and whiffled me a jest, and out again, to put on a ruby he had forgotten. So he said; but methinks it was to other purpose that he went; and no one has been here but Sir Thomas Overbury, who seems to be the only man that thinks his King's service worth attending to."

The querulous tone in which James spoke, indicated a mood ready to receive evil impressions of any one; and as Maxwell was not particularly well-inclined, any more than other courtiers, to make favourable reports of his rivals in the King's power, he seized the opportunity to damage the reputation of one who was rising too high over the heads of the minor aspirants to escape jealousy.

"Oh, your Majesty has not a more faithful servant, I am sure, than Sir Thomas Overbury," he said; "he is only a little dull in believing that others will rebel against your will, or thwart your sagacious views. Your Majesty recollects the business about Mr. Seymour and the Lady Arabella."

"Hout tout! Maxwell," cried the King, interrupting him before he could go further; "you're a jealous beast. But you've missed your fire, my man. Your match has burnt out, and will not light the powder. Why, Overbury has, this very morning, laid open to me all their doings; and is now drawing up the warrants for their arrest."

"The warrants will take a long time drawing, then, your Majesty," replied Maxwell. "If I were a king, or you, sire, a poor Scotch gentleman like myself, I'd bet you a stoup of wine that there will be one mistake or another about drawing up the warrants, till a full hour be lost; and then the messengers may whistle for the lady or her lover."

"Ha, what's that?--what's that?" cried the King. "Why, there has been one mistake already.--You're either a warlock, Maxwell, or you know more about the affair than you tell. Speak plain, man! speak plain! What have you seen?--what have you heard?"

"Why, if your Majesty really wishes to know," replied Maxwell, "and will condescend to promise not to tell my Lord of Rochester, I will relate all that has just happened; and you will soon see how faithful a servant is this Sir Thomas Overbury, who must needs contradict what I told you, sire, of Mr. Seymour and the Lady Arabella meeting in the grounds at Theobalds."

"Speak, man, speak!" cried the King, "I'll keep counsel as close as a wilk. You have our commands, sir; so you will be harmless."

"Well, then, sire, just now as I was walking along the cloister----" answered Maxwell.

"Call it the arcade," said the King; "cloister is a popish word."

"Well, sire, as I was walking along the arcade," continued Maxwell, "I saw a maid belonging to the Lady Arabella, carrying a note in her hand. Now, I had just passed good Sir Thomas Overbury; and a fancy struck me, I do not know why, that all was not right;--for all the Court, you know, say he is playing double with your Majesty. So I asked the girl to let me see the note; and, after much ado, I got her to consent. Well, there, sire, I saw Sir Thomas's own writing, somewhat twisted and turned to disguise it, but clear enough for all that; and, in the inside, was written a warning to the lady to fly from the Court with all speed. He engaged she should have an hour clear; and therefore it was I said there would be mistakes enough, and delays enough, before the warrants are ready."

"The false loon," cried the King, "the whelp of a traitor!--But we'll circumvent him. Run, Maxwell, run! Put a guard at the foot of each staircase that leads from her rooms and the Lady Shrewsbury's.--Fegs! they might have put out the 'bury,' and left the 'Shrew.'--Tell the guard to let no one pass out.--Run, man! run!--Speak not, but away!"

Maxwell obeyed the King's command, and hurried out of the cabinet; and James, casting himself into a chair, gave way to a fit of laughter, in the first place, at the thought of having circumvented Overbury. He soon returned, however, to the thought of the Knight's offences; and he rolled himself about, with much of that awkward air of indignation which the accounts of African travellers ascribe to the angry hippopotamus.

"The deceitful pagan!" he cried; "the treacherous dog! I'll punish him for forgetting his duty to God's anointed.--But softly, softly! He has too many secrets. We will deal gently with him.--Those cunning Romans, when they were about to punish a great malefactor, took him up to a high place, before they hurled him headlong down, that he might break his neck by the fall; which is a wise and good example to modern Kings, who may make such men's ambition the Tarpeian rock, from the highest point of which, they may get a fall when they least look for it."