Gloriana, who loves--as who would not have loved?--that most
beautiful of faces and of souls; helps poor puritan Udall out of his
scrape as far as he can; begs for Captain Spring, begs for many more,
whose names are only known by being connected with some good deed of
his. 'When, Sir Walter,' asks Queen Bess, 'will you cease to be a
beggar?' 'When your Majesty ceases to be a benefactor.' Perhaps it
is in these days that he set up his 'office of address'--some sort of
agency for discovering and relieving the wants of worthy men. So all
seems to go well. If he has lost in Virginia, he has gained by
Spanish prizes; his wine-patent is bringing him in a large revenue,
and the heavens smile on him. Thou sayest, 'I am rich and increased
in goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art
poor and miserable and blind and naked.' Thou shalt learn it, then,
and pay dearly for thy lesson.

For, in the meanwhile, Raleigh falls into a very great sin, for
which, as usual with his elect, God inflicts swift and instant
punishment; on which, as usual, biographers talk much unwisdom. He
seduces Miss Throgmorton, one of the maids of honour. Elizabeth is
very wroth; and had she not good reason to be wroth? Is it either
fair or reasonable to talk of her 'demanding a monopoly of love,' and
'being incensed at the temerity of her favourite, in presuming to
fall in love and marry without her consent?' Away with such cant.
The plain facts are: that a man nearly forty years old abuses his
wonderful gifts of body and mind, to ruin a girl nearly twenty years
younger than himself. What wonder if a virtuous woman--and Queen
Elizabeth was virtuous--thought it a base deed, and punished it
accordingly? There is no more to be discovered in the matter, save
by the vulturine nose which smells carrion in every rose-bed.
Raleigh has a great attempt on the Plate-fleets in hand; he hurries