I Die for the Lack of One Blessed Word

The countess of Shrewsbury herself watched him with an aspect that could have betrayed nothing to the most suspicious observer. She now approached him and said, what mean you to do? My deeds are done, replied he, despondingly. Yeah, had a fallen favor, any friends. I would entreat one of them to lay this ring at her Majesty's feet. It might remind her that poor Essex, once far too highly favored, was at last too severely dealt with. There is no time to be lost. Trust this precious ring with me. This very night, the queen's eye shall rest upon it,. No hour shall the efficacy of my poor words be wanting to