No one could contemplate such a scene with indifference, and, though he had often viewed it before, Sir Walter Raleigh, on waking from his reverie, scanned its varied features with the liveliest enjoyment. He did not, however, tarry long on the hill. After a brief pause, he set forward again, and--for the steepness of the descent obliged him to pick his steps--passed slowly, but not mournfully, towards the further park.
Whether it be true, or not, what some assert, that men sometimes have an instinctive foreboding of a coming ill, there certainly are moments when we are more inclined to look forward to calamity, than to anticipate success. And, perhaps, it may not be difficult, on a close survey, to make this dejection appear to be really the work of instinct. As the guiding influence of man is distinguished from that of brutes by its attribute of reason, so all its promptures, though without our perception, regard more than the passing time, and are tempered by a look at the future. When the judgment is healthy, this look, however closely pursued, will ever have some savour of hope; and if we cast hope aside, the judgment loses its distinguishing characteristic, and sinks to the level of an unrestrained instinct.
During his progress to the palace, the cheerfulness which Sir Walter had derived from external nature, in contemplating the prospect from One-Tree Hill, subsided, and his melancholy returned. The depression seemed to weigh him down, and, despite his efforts to repel it, to take the shape of a presentiment. Though his strong mind wrestled with the feeling, he found himself, every now and then, anticipating some evil, and looking forward to misfortune as if it were actually in view.
His dejection increased as he approached the palace. As he was advancing to the palace-door, a pursuivant, who was standing by, came up to him, and delivered to him a sealed billet. Sir Walter, glancing at the superscription, perceived that it was from the Queen, and eagerly tore it open.
“Sir Knight,--On the receipt hereof, we will that thou retire, with thy most convenient speed, to thy house in the Strand, and there hold thyself a prisoner during our pleasure.
“Given under our hand and seal, at our palace of Greenwich.