Well, then--our course is chosen--spread the sail--
Heave oft the lead, and mark the soundings well--
Look to the helm, good master--many a shoal
Marks this stern coast, and rocks, where sits the Siren,
Who, like ambition, lures men to their ruin.--THE SHIPWRECK.

During the brief interval that took place betwixt the dismissal of the
audience and the sitting of the privy-council, Leicester had time to
reflect that he had that morning sealed his own fate. "It was impossible
for him now," he thought, "after having, in the face of all that was
honourable in England, pledged his truth (though in an ambiguous phrase)
for the statement of Varney, to contradict or disavow it, without
exposing himself, not merely to the loss of court-favour, but to the
highest displeasure of the Queen, his deceived mistress, and to the
scorn and contempt at once of his rival and of all his compeers." This
certainty rushed at once on his mind, together with all the difficulties
which he would necessarily be exposed to in preserving a secret which
seemed now equally essential to his safety, to his power, and to his
honour. He was situated like one who walks upon ice ready to give way
around him, and whose only safety consists in moving onwards, by firm
and unvacillating steps. The Queen's favour, to preserve which he
had made such sacrifices, must now be secured by all means and at all
hazards; it was the only plank which he could cling to in the tempest.
He must settle himself, therefore, to the task of not only preserving,
but augmenting the Queen's partiality--he must be the favourite of
Elizabeth, or a man utterly shipwrecked in fortune and in honour. All
other considerations must be laid aside for the moment, and he repelled
the intrusive thoughts which forced on his mind the image of, Amy, by
saying to himself there would be time to think hereafter how he was to
escape from the labyrinth ultimately, since the pilot who sees a Scylla
under his bows must not for the time think of the more distant dangers
of Charybdis.