This next letter from Gilbert and Mary Talbot to their mother shows entire devotion to her at this difficult period, and is happily free from the old tale-bearing and espionage of previous years:—
“Our bounden duty most humbly remembered. In like humbleness we render your La. thanks for your letter; the last though not the least of your infinite goodnesses towards us and ours. We are safely come hither to Dunstable (we thank God) this Shrove Monday at night; and for that the foul way is past, we think best to return your La. letter again from hence.
“Such news as on the Queen’s highways we have met with, your La. shall now understand. First that her Majesty (royally in person) was at the parliament house the first day of this parliament; where Serjeant Snagge was admitted for the Speaker of the lower house. My Lord of Derby is Lord Steward during this session. That yesterday one told a man of mine that as yet nothing of any moment hath been touched in the lower house, neither any expectation that any great matters will be handled, but it will shortly end. That a day or two before the parliament began, the Lord Chancellor and the Lord Treasurer, with one or two more of the privy council, and Mr. Attorney and Mr. Solicitor were with the Earl of Arundel in the Tower; since which time there hath been no such speech of his arraignment, as there was before. This is all the Queen’s highways hath afforded us of news. Yet further we hear that all your Ladyship’s ...[84] are very well. And thus in haste, most humbly beseeching your La. blessing to us and all ours who pray evermore to the most highest to grant unto your La. all contentment with long life, we humbly cease, till our next letter, which shall not be long.
“Your La. most humble and obedient loving children,
“We have desired your La. letter men to bring a letter to your La. from Beskewood, where Mrs. Markham’s earnest entreaty made us to leave her till the return thereof. I beseech the Almighty to send your La. my La. Arball and the rest of your La.’s a most happy long life.
The date of this is 1589. Shrewsbury by this time has lapsed into retirement. He falls finally into old age. Elizabeth’s boasting promise that she would give him still greater proof of her trust he would be justified in receiving with a sardonic grunt. Of what use were her favours to him now? She, well into her fifties, could dance, sing, ride, pester her ladies, and flirt with her gentlemen. “The Queen,” writes a friend of the Talbots in 1589, “is so well as I assure you: six or seven gallyards in a morning, besides music and singing, is her ordinary exercise.” This is just a year after the death of her adored Leicester, immediately upon his return from his governorship of the Netherlands, which he had so hated. The days of his departure for that task were the days of Elizabeth’s disfavour. “My Lord,” he wrote pathetically to Shrewsbury in 1585, “no man feeleth comfort but they that have cause of griefe, and no men have so much neede of reliefe and comfort as those that go in these doubtful services. I pray you, my Lord, help us to be kept in comfort, for that we wyll hazard our lyfe for it.” Shrewsbury and his Countess could echo that cry from the depths of their hearts, for they too were of the company of those “that go in ... doubtful services.”