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Full text of "Two queens; a drama"

Birrell, C. J. Ballingall 
Two queens 




TWO QUEENS. 



PUBLISHED BY 

JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS, GLASGOW, 
fl uWishers to the mbraiig. 

MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON AND NEW YORK. 

London, - - - Hamilton, Adams and Co. 

Cambridge, - - Macmillan and Bowes. 

Edinburgh, - - Douglas and Faults. 

MDCCCLXXXIX. 



A DRAMA 



BY 

C. J. BALLING ALL BIRRELL 



GLASGOW 

JAMES MACLEHOSE & SONS 
$abltslwrs to th* anibersttg 

(889 

All rights reserved 



TWO QUEENS 



p/? 

' 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Edward the Sixth. 

Lord Northumberland, 

Lord Suffolk, 

Lord Howard, 

Various Lords and Councillors. 

Lord Guildford Dudley, 

Father Feckenhatn, 

Scheyfne, Kenard, 

Queen Mary. 

Lady Ann Wharton, 

Lady Jane Grey. 

Lady Suffolk, - - . - 

Lady Northumberland, 

Angela, 

Mistress Underhill, 



Father-in-law to Lady Jane. 
Father of Lady Jane. 
Friend of Queen Mary. 

Husband of Lady Jane. 
Queen Mary's Confessor. 
Austrian Ambassadors. 

Her Lady of honour. 

Lady Jane's Mother. 
Lady Jane's Mother-in-law. 
Lady Jane's Waiting-Woman. 
Wife of one of the Tower Atten- 
dants. 







TWO QUEENS. 
i 

ACT I. 
SCENE I. HUNSDON HOUSE. 

Princess Mary and Lady Ann Wharton. 

Princess. My Lady Ann, you have been with me 

long, 
When came you first to Court? 

Lady Ann. Madam, I scarce can tell, 

The count of years runs far into the past. 

Princess. Then I'll be minister to your remem- 
brance. 

You came to me before my mother died : 
You soothed my tearless anguish and despair 
By the large sympathy of honest eyes 



4 TWO QUEENS. 

When words were fatal, tenderness, a crime. 
She was an Empress' daughter, Lady Ann, 
Queen of all England, yet she died alone, 
Refused in death the sight of her own child, 
Poor soul ! I weep to think on't. 

Lady Ann. Ah, madam, there is sorrow every- 
where. 

Princess. But not like ours, like ours it cannot be. 
For you, you others need not hide your grief, 
Quench the hot streams that well from wounded 

honour, 

And scarf quick sores with agonizing splendour : 
You can cry out and beat upon your breast, 
But I must see my mother die alone, 
Nor ever by the quiver of an eyelid 
Betray the rebellious torture of control. 

Lady Ann. Secret suffering is a cruel thing. 

Princess. It makes the heart grow hard : the 

tender sapling 

Warps into knots, and the unsightly bark 
Cancels the promise of a noble tree. 
'Twas so they twisted me, thwarted and maimed me 
Upon the rack of time : I have borne much, 



TWO QUEENS. 5 

Suffering has left me little more to learn. 

Lady Ann. But it is past, the future is your own. 

Princess. The future, Lady Ann, I have no future ; 

The old wound's quick, and starts at such a word. 

Lady Ann. Madam, you have some grief I do 

not know. 

Princess. It is all grief, blackness and foul despair. 
Lady Ann. Oh, madam ! do not, do not speak 

such words. 
Princess. I must, or thought will choke me : you 

know well 

I have not wasted words through all these years. 
When have I ever murmured or complained ? 
But now the final struggle is at hand, 
I warn you now, the ultimate throw with fate. 
Lady Ann. Oh, if it be not too much pain to 

speak, 
Tell me the present trouble. 

Princess. My Lord Northumberland makes plots 

to slay me, 
Even the Emperor bids me leave the land. 

Lady Ann. How terrible the abyss of secret crime ! 
And will you leave? 



TWO QUEENS. 

Princess. Not while the breath is in my body, no ! 
'Tis only cowards abdicate their right. 

Enter Attendant. 

Att. My Lord Northumberland waits. 
Princess. How can he dare to come ? Oh ! it is 

cruel ! 

Go to him, Lady Ann, keep him in talk 
Until my constancy be recomposed. 

{Exit Lady Ann. 
Princess. What is the malignant mystery of my 

nature 

That calls for such stern judgment? What the flaw 
In my soul's health that needs such bitter medicine? 
Was it my parent's guilt or mine that writ 
My destiny in such characters of woe? 
Be calm, my heart, blot out all show of sense, 
He comes, and I must see him. 

Re-enter Lady Ann with Lord Northumberland. 
Princess. I lack the words to bid you welcome, 

sir, 

In sudden apprehension of your coming, 
No trivial errand summons you so far, 
Speak, I entreat you, I await your words. 



TWO QUEENS. 7 

Lord North. I have received your missive 

Princess. What ! no more. 

Lord North. Madam, it is enough : 
The King, your brother, lies at point of death. 
Your absence here fetters our certain action, 
There being thousand forms and ceremonies 
To which you must conform upon succession. 
The errand, this, which brings me in such haste 
To bid you back with me to London. 

Princess. The King is worse? 

Lord North. Grievously, madam r 

That certain foe whom none can ever foil 
Stations his outposts at the city gates ; 
Now, point by point, the vital ramparts yield 
And soon the citadel of life must fall. 

Princess. 'Tis a sore case, my Lord Northumber- 
land. 

Yet in my narrow range, I have made note 
How closely youth may run its race with death. 
Youth is the surest physic of all ill. 
Nay, every Spring we hear the King must die. 

Lord North. It is no saying now. 

Princess. Nor then I'll warrant. 



8 TWO QUEENS. 

Until the time was past. I do not question 
The stubborn claim of matters ceremonial, 
But this perpetual oracle of woe 
Has razed the present danger. I am fixed. 
While the King lives, I will not budge a foot. 

Lord North. Then, madam, I am bold, but you 

do wrong. 

Pardon me, therefore, I must speak my mind. 
How can a man o'ercharged with state affairs 
Brood o'er a sick-bed with a woman's kindness. 
I am a citizen in life's rough school, 
And fitter to deal blows than bind the wounded, 
Whence should I learn to match the asking eye 
With its swift answer and fulfil requirement. 
Your part it is, and should you fail therein 
All men will blame you for indifference. 
I speak in your own interest, who more fit 
Than sister to attend a dying brother? 

Princess. My lord, your words are true, nay, 

gospel true : 

And I most loath to set their weight aside, 
Nor shall I blame the bluntness of your speech 
As might most women, but 'tis thus with me, r 



TWO QUEENS. 9 

Scarce in this country quiet can I live 

Fenced from all ill by sedulous observance, 

Nor have I secret springs of hidden strength 

To nurse the King with life blood from my veins. 

Lady Northumberland must fill my lack, 

And I commend to her most loving care 

The charge of my young brother. She can more 

Than I in watchful tendance. That is all. 

Bespeak the King for me my tender love, 

And inmost grieving for his dolorous ailment. 

Good morrow, sir, farewell. 

{Exit Lord Northumberland. 

Princess. How my heart aches for that unhappy 

boy ! 

Poor child, I loved you not : my father's fault, 
Who ate the grapes that set our teeth on edge. 
Enter Lady Ann Wharton. 

Lady Ann. Madam, the Austrian Ambassador is 

here, 
Urgent to see you. What ! is aught amiss ? 

Princess. Saw you my lord protector as he went? 
Or did he see the other? 

Lady Ann. Madam, I think not, 



io TWO QUEENS. 

The Ambassador came by the private gate 
Beneath this chamber. 

Princess. Then it is well so far, 

Let none know of his coming, least of all 
The one you wot of, my worst enemy. 
It is not open violence I dread, 
The stealthy prick of an assassin's dagger, 
The secret malice of corroding poison, 
Might rid me quickly of my strongest friend. 

Lady Ann. Madam, the surety of an Emperor's 

name 
Clothes him in stronger panoply than steel. 

Princess. 'Tis slippery walking on earth's mountain 

tops, 

There's mist there, yes, and precipices, too, 
And ice to freeze the bones. I know it well. 
The good Ambassador waits, I'll see him then. 
But yet be wary, not a step so light 
But it may wake an adder. Have a care. 
Re-enter Lady Ann with the Austrian Ambassador. 

Princess. He whom we know is here to-day : 

perchance, 
Is not yet gone. 



TWO QUEERS. II 

Scheyfne. Can he have dared such boldness? 

Princess. Know it well. 

Therefore I almost fear to see you now. 

Scheyfne. Why? 

Princess. Hush ! there's a step ! 

A door's beyond that curtain. Softly, there, 
The stair is winding. 

Enter Lord Northumberland. 

Lord North. Madam, before I leave, I speak 

once more; 

Are you prepared I publish your resolve, 
Reveal to men the love you bear the king, 
It will make honour for you? 

Princess. Sir, once more, 

Publish my words to every wind of heaven, 
Show up to all the monster of sour humour, 
The harsh step-sister gloating o'er his ill, 
Enlarge indignant speeches of persuasion, 
Men will believe your words. 

Lord North. This jesting is ill timed, 

Whose interest but your own can be at stake. 

Princess. Sir, leave my interests in their proper 
charge. 



12 TWO QUEENS. 

Lord North. Some one was with you now? 
Princess. My interest still. 

Lord North. You should be careful, stories may 

arise 
Which may prove harmful. Trust my experience. 

Princess. I trust in no man born. Is that enough ? 
Pardon me, sir ; indeed, I am not well, 
I pray you, leave me. 

\Exit Lord Northumberland. 
Princess. Softly, come forth, the enemy has gone. 

Enter Scheyfne. 

Sir, tell me all you know, the very worst : 
Anything better than uncertainty. 
What is he doing now? 

Scheyfne. While the King lives your life at least 

is safe. 
Princess. So much I thought, else he had seized 

me now; 

Yet why should one who meditates such crime 
Pause for the mere breath of a dying boy? 

Scheyfne. Northumberland is wise : he knows 

right well 
Ten thousand loyal swords leap from the scabbard 



TWO QUEENS. 13 

To guard your Highness from intended ill. 
Therefore he waits till cunning pretext work 
To bring you craftily within his toils. 
The lord protector masks his real purpose 
To pose as saint till time convict him sinner. 

Princess. O villain ! worse than villain, seeming 

saint ! 

Such words he spoke ; had you not warned me first. 
I would be riding to determined death. 
This life is hateful. What of the young King? 
You know what credit I can give his tale. 

Scheyfne. Sinking, fast sinking, like a stranded hull 
Washed by each billow nearer to decay ; 
'Tis possible a month he may survive 
No longer. 

Princess. Alas ! alas ! that I should grudge his time. 
And yet it is so long to wait like this 
When every moment's misery. Tell me more. 

Scheyfne. My lord protector tries a double game, 
To play off France against the Emperor. 

Princess. France ! 'tis a danger that would touch 

me home ! 
How does France view him ? 



14 TWO QUEENS. 

Scheyfne. The French King trusts him as the Em- 
peror, 

Well knowing that his word is light as sand, 
Puffed to whichever side self-interest blows. 
But still it is a danger, I must warn you, 
The Emperor holds it so. 

Princess. Hide nothing from me, 

I see some villainous tidings are in store, 
I know it well. 

Scheyfne. Madam, I am recalled. 

Princess. You speak my doom, sir, uttering words 
like these. 

Scheyfne. Another comes more skilled in ways of 

men, 

Fit to match Frenchmen on their proper ground, 
Well liked of all, and one that knows right well 
To tune his accent to a lady's ear. 

Princess. To me blunt truth 

Is dearer far than smooth indifference. 
He has not been my stay through all these years. 
It is not yet too late, you cannot go. 

Scheyfne. Madam, my summons is beyond recall. 

Princess. I have given o'er my confidence in man; 



TWO QUEENS. 15 

My trust is in the God who judges right, 
And loves to give the battle to the weak ! 

Scheyfne. Your Highness' cause stands not alone 

with me, 

Three-fourths of England's noblest youth send word, 
Their sword defends you in the hour of peril. 
Princess. Thanks for all such, but I have no one 

near, 

Like you, to brave Northumberland's displeasure ; 
The craven Lords of Council work his will, 
Hoping for me the best, but doing nothing. 

Scheyfne. I can do many things through alien 

birth, 

Impossible to them ; they're yours in heart, 
Despite the apparent show, believe me, madam. 
Princess. I'll not mistrust your words, but men 

are feeble, 

And foes are strong, and each man serves himself. 
'Tis natural so. But tell me one thing more 
Of that poor victim, luckless Lady Jane. 

Scheyfne. 'Tis said she had no mind to wed his 

son; 
Her heart was with young Hertford. 



1 6 t TWO QUEENS. 

Princess. So I heard. 

We both are in his toils, and she is young 
And fair and ignorant, while I am old 
And skilled in ways of men. I pity her. 
To win or lose, we both must suffer pain. 
But who will help me, sir, when you are gone? 
I have no friends to guide my faltering steps. 

Scheyfne. While the King lives, you have no 

cause for fear, 

And ere the last breath leaves your royal brother, 
Horsemen will ride to bear the tidings here. 
Then pause not, stay not, fly for very life, 
Until you reach the Howards' seat in Norfolk ; 
They will protect you in the time of need. 
Be calm meanwhile, yet with a careful ease, 
As inly mourning the young King's decline. 
But I must leave you, madam, or be missed. 

Princess. Farewell, farewell, my best and truest 

friend, 

The one sincerely honest I have known. 
For most men are obedient to the whim ; 
Ready at times to do a random kindness, 
Or, as unthinking, do a random ill. 






TWO QUEENS. 17 

And I must trust to their uncertain humour, 

Is it a marvel that my heart should fail? 

Did not my mother die before her time, 

Heart-broken in her widowed solitude, 

Murdered oh, not by blows that take the sense 

But deeper wounds that lacerate the soul. 

Did I not know her when in royal state 

Courted by troops of reverential suitors? 

Did not I see them leave her in distress 

And flock as gladly to her rival's side? 

Such memories are ill omen of success 

And poison life with bitter recollectidh. 

The whole herd tramples on the fallen steer, 

As they will now, my augury is plain. 

And yet I thank you for your watchful care, 

You shall be ever in my heart, adieu. 

Scheyfne. Ah, madam, I shall live to see you queen. 

Princess. I hope, indeed, but with a heavy heart. 

[Exit Scheyfne. 

Alone ! the power is all upon his side ! 
Yet am I triply armed with right divine; 
The crown of England rests upon this brow 

If heaven restore it to its rightful heir. 
B 



1 8 TWO QUEENS. 

My mother, for thy sake I must be queen ! 
To purge the stain from thy untarnished honour, 
That sunk thy drooping spirit to the grave. 
Be armed, my heart, the day of trial comes, 
Leave woman's fear to those less nobly born, 
A royal spirit knows no touch of fear. 



SCENE II. GARDEN IN FRONT OF LORD SUFFOLK'S 

HOUSE. 



Maidens Singing. 

Hail, glorious sun ! that dost the kindling vine 
Flush with the radiance of celestial fire ! 

To thee we lift our hearts, propitious shine 
On budding hope, with bloom of young desire. 

See how each flower spreads out her shining breast, 

Delighted thy caresses to receive ! 
Watch how the fields grow white at thy behest, 

Whose golden braids the tangled sunbeams weave. 



TWO QUEENS. 19 

Hail, glorious sun ! that dost the kindling vine 

Flush with the radiance of celestial fire ! 
To thee we lift our hearts, propitious shine 

On budding hope, with fruit of young desire. 
Enter Lady Jane. 

Lady Jane. Pray you no songs, for I am sad at 

heart. 

Last night in dream methought I saw the King, 
Clad a}l in white and crowned with* kingly state, 
Stretching his hands to reach me through the gloom, 
With pleading eyes that mutely made request : 
" Come to me, cousin, I am all alone." 
And when I woke I knew it was a dream, 
But still his presence fills my waking thought, 
Wherefore my heart keeps vigil far away 
And summer brightness is but mockery. 

Maid. Is the King dying, madam? 

Lady Jane. Ah ! who knows 

Why do you speak such harsh unfeeling words? 
The King is suffering, suffering far away, 
My most dear kinsman, at the point of death. 

Second Maid. Madam, there's one comes running 
in hot haste 



20 TWO QUEENS. 

Who wears the livery of Northumberland. 

Lady Jane. Bid him approach that I may hear his 

words, 

What message, man, brings you in such hot haste? 
Not sorrow, tell me, quick ! 

Mess. Nay, but a humble harbinger, your grace, 
To advertise my mistress' near approach, 
Who comes with Lady Sydney and Lord Dudley, 
Your honoured husband : all are close at hand. 

Lady Jane. Haste, maidens, lead this messenger 

within, 

Bid him acquaint my mother, I wait here. 
Like snow on summer's day are sudden meetings, 
And aching bosoms presage naught but ill. 
Enter Lady Northumberland and Party. 

Lady North. Good-morrow, sweetheart, from a 

loving friend, 

The country air revives you, you look well, 
Not pale as is your wont from musty books. 
Come, Guildford there will frame a pretty speech 
Where do the roses go when summer dies ? 
We can tell that to-day. 

Lady Jane. Madam, he cannot tell ; 



TWO QUEENS. 21 

He has no knack of tongue, wanting in practice. 
But still I keep you standing, you are tired, 
Will you within? 

Lady North. Not a step further, pray you. Let us 

sit, 
Are there not seats around yon spreading oak? 

Enter Lady Suffolk. 

Good-morrow, madam, we take vantage of you : 
I've seen you twice since you saw me in London. 
Lady Suff. May love increase for oftener acquaint- 
ance, 

Bring the oak settle out and sit it here, 
That seat's too low for all save youthful limbs. 
Lady Jane. What is the latest tidings of the 

King? 

The thought of him scarce ever leaves my mind, 
But certain news comes rarely. 
Lady North. Still very sickly; but we hope the 

best. 

A woman doctor late hath done him good 
With soothing herbs. His is a sickly youth, 
Yet many a one that seemed to be as frail 
Has reached a green old age, my husband says. 



22 TWO QUEENS. 

Lady Sttff. Ah, no ; the mind's too vehement for 

the strength, 

And frets the feeble barriers of the soul. 
His face had death's stamp when I saw him last 
At our two weddings. Jane, do you remember 
How our dear kinsman looked on you and smiled, 
As though he watched you from another world. 
I trembled at his sight. 

Lady Jane. Ah, he is good ! 

And yet meseems o'erburdened with sad thought; 
A youthful Atlas holding up the world, 
Which crushes him to death. 

Lady North. It is most true. 

His mind is active far beyond his years, 
Already" planning princely charity. 
The maintenance of the poor hath all his thought, 
And he of late hath much discoursed thereon. 
But to my errand. I am bid to fetch you 
On urgent business to the Court to-morrow. 
My husband waits your presence. Lady Suffolk, 
I see, is loath to lose you, but 'tis needful, 
And tearful parting urges sweet return. 

Lady Jane. What is to do ? Mother, can you be left? 



TWO QUEENS, 23 

Lady Suff. Nay, Jane, I pray you, tarry with me 

here. 
Lady North. Why ! 'Tis impossible, she comes 

with me. 
Lady Suff. Who has more right than mother to 

her child? 
Lady North. 'Tis palpable to all in Nature's 

teaching, 
A woman shall be subject to her lord. 

Lady Suff. I say Jane shall not leave me with 

my will ! 
Lady North. Then without will perforce she needs 

must leave. 

Come, Lady Suffolk, do not make delay, 
Jane will be well and come to you anon. 

Lady Suff. I fear me, madam, if she go with you 
She never, never, will return again. 
They wish to make you, Jane, the Queen of England. 
Lady Jane. But that I can be never : cease to 

urge, 
Lady Northumberland, and let me stay. 

Lady North. Nay, my sweet daughter, but it may 
not be. 



24 TWO QUEENS. 

My husband urgently demands your presence, 
And I, myself, am come to fetch you hence. 

Lady Jane. Then, dearest mother 

Lady Suff. No, you shall not go. 

I thought you had more firmness than be swayed 
Against your will, but that you hate your mother, 
Else you would wait with me and let them go. 
Lady North. Nay, Jane, hear me, I am compelled 

to bring you : 
The King himself it is desires to see you. 

Lady Suff. Ay, ay, no doubt; to make a fool of 

you. 
So, you will part a mother from her child? 

Lady North. So, you will part a husband from 

his wife? 

Be reasonable, madam, let her go, 
Considering what the issue. And you, Dudley, 
Why stand you silent; have you naught to say? 
Lady Suff. You tear her from my arms; I have 

no right, 
No portion in the daughter whom I bore? 

Lord Guildford. Jane, as my wife, I bid you 
come with me. 



TWO QUEENS. 25 

Lady Jane. How am I torn by these contending 

claims ? 

Mother, dear mother, 'tis my husband's claim ; 
Why do you make it hard for me to go? 

Lady Suff. Then take your choice : you see the 

last of me. 

Bid your dear husband haste to get to horse. 
I'll have no more of this. I wish you joy. \Exit. 
Lady North. How dreadful is a passion uncon- 

trolled 

In an old woman ! Jane, show us the way. 
The less delay the better suits my purpose. 



Re-enter Lady Suffolk. 
Lady Suff. Gone ! gone for ever, and beyond re- 

call! 

How I have played into that woman's hands. 
An endless sorrow is the care of children : 
For all the love we lavish on their childhood 
Is flung into the sea without return. 
But yet I know Jane will not leave me thus, 
She will not go from me without a word 
For all my hardness. 



26 TWO QUEENS. 

Enter Lady Jane. 

Lady Jane. Mother ! 

Lady Suff. Ah Jane, my Jane, you have returned 

to me; 

You will not leave me, you have told them so. 
Lady Jane. If marriage be a bond, how can that 

be? 
Lady Suff. Yours is no bond ; it was your father's 

doing, 

Not mine, Jane; I had never seen you wed 
With my consent to upstart Dudley's son. 
Renounce the marriage and stay with me here. 
Lady Jane. You know not what you say, my 

dearest mother, 

What is once done can never be made void. 
Lady Suff. Therefore it is I would not have you 

leave me. 
Lady Jane. Ah, mother dearest, you feel but for 

me 

As every mother parting from her child, 
Whose clear eyes see her in a shifting world 
Bereft of guidance ; oh, I know your thought. 
But whether good or ill attend their steps, 



TWO QUEENS. 27 

Mother and daughter at some time must part. 
Wherefore, dear mother, do not hinder me, 
But kiss me and embrace me ere I go. 

Lady Suff. Ah, Jane! I fear, I fear I know not 

what, 

But something in this marriage makes me fear. 
Mark my words, child, and trust your lady mother 
No farther than you see her: but you're simple, 
Learned in books, but not in ways of men, 
Who take advantage of your innocence. 
I deemed you once too simple did not love you; 
But time takes vengeance scarce we meet in soul 
When parting rends the too late-loving hearts. 
Heaven's smile goes with you, daughter, where you 

go- 
May you live long and happy and be blest ! 

But my heart fears. 

[Exeunt. 



28 TWO QUEENS. 



ACT II. 

SCENE I. SIGN HOUSE. 
The King and Northumberland. 

Ed. VI. When did you bid the judges come, my 
lord? 

I wonder if my strength will bear me through 

This parleying. Why should they thwart me thus? 

Will they not even let me die in peace? 

Woe to this country if my sister reigns? 

You know her well her stubborn resistance, 

And steadfast cleaving to idolatry. 

And in this land there is but that one left 

To whom I safely can entrust the state, 

My cousin most beloved, the Lady Jane. 

Lord North. Indeed, all men discourse her pass- 
ing wisdom, 

A marvellous constancy in one so young; 



TWO QUEENS. 29 

Yea, with all gifts she is so meek of soul, 
She wears her learning lightly as a flower. 

Ed. VI. Wit, wisdom, beauty, modesty itself, 
Can never countervail the weight of truth, 
And steadfast perseverance in the right, 
The precious dower of a sovereign soul. 

North. Alas ! the lawyers will not have it so. 
Their purblind vision gropes in noonday night, 
Not seeing aught beyond its narrow range, 
Nor how the loss of one may profit many. 

Ed. VI. They will see right, they will see truth 

to-day. 

'Tis said men dying have a clearer view 
Of past and future than at other times. 
I, a king dying, will speak words of weight 
That they must listen to the cause of truth. 
Are they not yet come? Bring them if they 

are. 

Enter Chief-Justice Montague, Sir Thomas Bromley, 
Sir John Baker, Marquis of Winchester, and 
others. 

Ed VI. Goodmorrow, sirs, bring you the letters 
patent ? 



30 TWO QUEENS. 

I crave your pardon for a hasty greeting, 
But business urges. 

Montague. Alas, your grace, we serve a stubborn 

master, 

One that will bend before no private will; 
Wherefore, though private will would do you service, 
The sovereign will of right o'errules that plea. 

Ed. VI. What right, save Heayen's, can overrule 

my right 
To instant execution of my will? 

Mont. Even angels bend obedient unto law, 
Since order controverted breeds disaster, 
No matter who the opposer; kingly power 
Shows kingliest in its lawful exercise. 

Ed. VI. You put me off with quibbles what is 

law? 
What in the law forbids the letters patent? 

North, (aside) You kill the king by over-arguing. 
Be niggardly of words he cannot bear't, 
Unless you'll have him drop before your eyes. 

Mont. Your father, sire, for eight and thirty years 
Governed this realm in dignity and honour, 
And, ere his death, seeing your tender youth, 



TWO QUEENS. 31 

Knowing the chances of uncertain life, 
Bequeathed the crown, devising it to you 
And to your sisters in direct succession, 
Seeking thereby the welfare of the land 
And so empowered by Act of Parliament. 
Sire, what the nation's universal will 
Hath so accorded, hath no private scope, 
And nowise lightly may be set aside. 
What by the writ of Parliament is fixed 
Only by parliament may be annulled. 
Wherefore in this, we cannot do your will 
Touching the matter of the letters patent 
To set in power your cousin, Lady Jane. 

Lord North, (aside) You'll slay him ere you go, 
his colour wanes. 

Ed. VI. It seems that parliament hath ampler 

scope 
Than in my father's time? 

Mont. Since most ancestral times, 

So has it been, nor is it altered now. 

Ed. VI. Intolerable words, you goad my wrath ! 
Ye do but take advantage of my youth, 
Forms of the law are your divinity, 



32 TWO QUEENS. 

For forms ye murder me : but I am set. 
Forms I dispense with, write the letters patent. 

Mont. In study of your royal father's will 
We find ourselves convict of treasonous blame 
If we obey you. 

Ed. VI. Treason to him or me, 

What matters it? my servants are at hand 
To cast my rebel subjects in the tower, 
And ye are rebels, not obeying me. 
But this I see men love the rising sun 
More than the setting, I am on the wane. 
My sister hath suborned you to her will. 
O miserable emptiness of show ! 
The common love that gilds men's dying hours 
To me is wanting I was born a king. 
Ye do not know my sister nor the fate 
From which I would save England do not know, 
Grey headed, full of honours, what it is 
To die unheeded in unpractised youth. 
The Gordian knot of life for me is cut, 
And may not be unravelled, I am the grave , 
Of all the good I purposed for my people; 
And now ye throne another to annul 



TWO QUEENS. 33 

All I have done or would do for the land. 
Oh ! by the last breath of a dying king, 
By all that sweetens life for other men, 
I charge you that in this ye do my will. 
Let men but see, let them in this behold, 
My last anxiety was for my people. 
Mont. Sire, is there haply some small chamber 

where 

We may confer apart, ere we would yield 
To you our thought touching this weighty matter 
Ed. VI. Speak to them for me, good Northumber- 
land. \Exeunt Lord Northumberland and 

Judges some wait behind. 

Suffolk. The King! the King! Fetch the physi- 
cians, haste ! 
North. Is he gone, think you? Suffolk, chafe his 

hands. 

How thin they are, like glass. What is ado? 
Howard. Look how the nail is broken ! They are 

slow, 

Physicians never ought to leave his side 
Here's a woman at last. Who is she, Suffolk? 

Suffolk. The king's physician and his only nurse. 
c 



"34 TWO QUEENS. 

North. That looks not well for a Protector's care. 

Woman. Rouse up, sir, see the noble lords attend, 
Tis but a swoon, my lords, you see he stirs. 

Ed. VI. Cassandra ! Cassandra ! They will not 
hearken to thy prophecy ! 

Suffolk. What is he thinking of? these are strange 
words. 

Ed. VI. Gentlemen, do I wake or do I dream? 
Have I been long thus? 'tis my tedious wont. 
I have seen horrid sights, the fires of Spain 
Burning in England, kindled by my hands. 

Suffolk. A dream, your grace, the judges are at 

hand 
Ready to do your bidding. 

Ed. VI. It is well. 

I can die happy now, bid them approach ; 
But spare their words, seeing my strength is small. 

Mont. Sire, we will do your royal highness' will, 
So be in writing you will make it known 
That by command we altered the succession, 
By you defended from the blame of treason. 

Ed. VI. Write what you will. I'll sign it with 
my hand, 



TWO QUEENS. 35 

And, with all haste prepare the letters patent, 
Seeing our time is brief. No words but love, 
The state in your hands and do good. Farewell. 



SCENE II. SION HOUSE. 

Lady Jane and Waiting- Woman, Angela. 

Lady Jane. How strange that no one has awaited 
us ! 

Angela. It is an evil augury for the King. 
Indeed, the house is very strangely hushed 
No one seems stirring. 

Lady Jane. 'Twas good of him, 

The King, I mean, to bid me here to see him. 
We played as children not so long ago ; 
But he goes home so soon, too soon for us. 
I was so near his age, just like a sister, 
And like a sister now I mourn for him. 
Poor King ! the crown has crushed his life. 



36 TWO QUEENS. 

Angela. Dear lady, you are pale, 

Your limbs are trembling. Shall I fetch you wine? 
Lady Jane. No, Angela, it is but passing faint- 
ness; 

It is the waiting and suspense undoes me, 
I shall be well anon. Ah ! Angela, 
I never have seen death, I tremble now, 
My accents seem too gross for one near heaven. 
Enter Northumberland, Northampton, Arundel, 

Pembroke, Suffolk. 
North. Heaven in its grace has called the King 

to rest, 

His was an easy passing of the soul. 
The King is dead, and you are Queen of England. 
Lady Jane. Oh, sirs, what words are these? it 

cannot be 
The King is dead our noble, royal master ! 

North, The King, I say, is dead, and you are 

Queen. 
Lady Jane. Gentlemen, sirs, this cannot be the 

truth ; 

You have confused my sense with sudden tidings. 
The King is dead, I scarce believe it yet, 

\ 

\ 



TWO QUEENS. 37 

But more than this strange other I am Queen. 
But why should mighty nobles so conspire 
To mock an ignorant girl? 

North. In very truth you are the Queen of Eng- 
land. 

Look and behold the charter of that title 
Signed by a thousand honourable names. 

Lady Jane. The dear, dear King is dead ! Help, 

Angela ! 

North. The lady swoons. 

I'll fetch my wife to help her. Here they come. 
Enter Lady Northumberland and Lady Northampton. 
Lady Northumberland. Poor soul, o'ercome ! 

Gentlemen, further back. 

Bring forward the great chair and set her on't. 
You were too sudden with unlocked for tidings. 
But she revives, her eyes begin to tremble. 

Lady Jane. They said that I was Queen ? How 

can that be? 
Lord North. The bill is here, and you will read 

it soon, 

Signed by the best and noblest names in Eng- 
land. 



38 TWO QUEENS. 

Lady fane. I thought the Lady Mary had been 

Queen ; 
Why is she set aside? 

Lord North. "Pis writ herein; 

The Lady Mary is a stubborn Papist, 
And by King Henry's will was set aside, 
As was her sister. 

Lady Jane. Was't not o'erruled ? 

'Tis monstrous this and yet the Lady Mary. 
My lord, these matters are too high for me, 
Let it be on your truth that ye deal truly. 

Lord North. The good King Edward hath before 

his death 

Bequeathed the crown, devising it to you 
And your descendants in direct succession. 
So in his name we swear to honour you, 
And if need be defend you with our lives. 

[.Reads the letters patent. 

Lady Jane. Then it is true. There's comfort in 

the thought; 

I see I reign not for myself alone, 
But for the Church, to follow the king's aim, 
A precious heritage bequeathed to me. 






TWO QUEENS. 39 

And in myself I know that I am weak, 
But yet, though weak, I do desire the right, 
And Heaven itself will guide my stumbling steps 
To clearer knowledge. Gentlemen, arise, 
I am too faint for further conference, 
But I shall see you soon. Farewell. 

[Exeunt Lady Jane, Lady Northumberland y 

Lady Northampton. 
Lord North. What think you, gentlemen, of your 

young Queen? 

Pembroke. She's but a white rose, Dudley. 
North. Rose royal, spite the colour of it, Pem- 
broke. 

You will all meet me at the Tower to-morrow 
To welcome the young Queen? 

[Exeunt all but Pembroke and Arundel. 
Arundel. What think you of this latest move of 

Dudley ? 
Pembroke. Not so loud, pray you; walls, they say, 

have ears, 
And long ones in this place. 

Arundel. And asses too; 

I speak no treason. He's a clever man. 



40 TWO QUEENS. 

His head's as safe to come off with the one 
As with the other: He does well to try. 

Pembroke. What think you of the Lady Mary's 

cause ? 

I heard the ambassador implored her grace 
To leave the country ere the young King died. 

Arundel. It was a foolish thing to call back 

Scheyfhe, 

A quiet man who knew the country well. 
Have you seen Renard? 

Pembroke. Supped with him last night. 

The Emperor's cause won't suffer, I'll be bound, 
Whoever reigns. 'Tis we that have to suffer, 
Who waver sadly in uncertain ways. 
The eastern counties will.be all in arms 
Before a week is gone. There are my horses. 
If Lady Mary get alive to Norfolk 
I'll give my lord the slip; the citizens hate him 
More than he reckons. Will you come with me? 



TWO QUEENS. 4* 



SCENE III. KENINGHALL DINING HALL. 

Lady Howard and Daughter. 

Lady Howard. I wish your father, child, were safely 

back ! 
Daughter. You're anxious-minded, mother, grown 

of late. 
What is't you fear? 

Lady How. It is a shifting world, 

And men must sometimes tremble. 

Daughter. Tell me, mother, 

Is there some trouble brewing ? Do not hide it ; 
Why keep us ignorant of coming ill? 

Lady How. Child, you talk folly; what is there 

to hide? 
Daughter. A long while since you bade the maids 

prepare 

The great guest-chamber, but no guest has come. 
Lady How. 'Tis not to say that some guest may 
not come. 



42 TWO QUEENS. 

No, child, you're out, it is not that I fear. 
Daughter. Northumberland and the Papists? 
Lady How. Hush, be gone ! 

Run to the upper window, child, and say 
If you see aught. 

Daughter. What shall I look to see? 

Lady How. Your father, child, who else ? and let 
me be. 

[Exit Child. 
Lady How. I sometimes think this life will drive 

me mad. 

Poor Lady Mary, it is worse for her; 
But she must own that she has noble friends. 
My husband does his part for her, that's certain. 

Enter Lord Howard. 
Lord How. Thought you, good wife, that I would 

never come? 

Lady How. I never thought to see you here again. 
Lord How. Maybe thou'lt have more reason in 

that thought 
Ere all is over: 'tis a troublous time. 

Lady How. I thought that all men favoured 
Lady Mary. 



TWO QUEENS. 43 

Lord How. If she come here alive; but oh, that 

ride ! 

Men call me brave, but I would fear that ride, 
When every tree or dyke or bush of thorn 
May hide a traitor ! 'Tis a fearful thought. 
If she is taken we must fight for life. 
You'll take the children, dame, and fly to Holland ; 
You'll need your bravery then. No trembling, wench. 

Lady How. May God defend me in the time of 

need; 
Women are feeble creatures at the best. 

Lord How. Think of the Princess ! 

Lady How. May Heaven pity her, 

And us and ours that follow in her train. 
Enter Daughter. 

Daughter. Mother, I see a horseman on the road 
Spurring toward us ; in the cloud of dust 
I scarcely can discern what man he is, 
But it seems royal livery. 

Lord How. God forbid ! 

She's taken then; her man would ride in mask. 

Lady How. O husband, fly ; they will not think 
of us. 



44 TWO QUEENS. 

Daughter. Who's taken, mother? What does 

father mean? 

You always talk in riddles. 
Lady How. Child, be quiet ! 

Where is the rider? 

Daughter. He is close at hand. 

Do you not hear his horse? Will some one meet 

him? 
Lady How. Go, child, and quickly haste to bring 

me word 

His height, shape, colour, and the very man, 
And if you have made note of him before. 

Lord How. Farewell, good wife, they will not do 

you harm, 

Not at the present, you must dry your eyes ; 
Think of the children and what I have bid you. 
All may be well; our fears may be for naught, 
But it looks ill. 

Lady How. Oh, speak not, stay not, 
Husband dear, be gone. I'll see him. 

Enter Messenger. 

Mess. Madam, I crave your pardon for my haste, 
The Princess Mary will be here anon. 



TWO QUEENS. 45 

The King, our master, died about this time 
Last even, and my royal mistress comes 
In utmost haste to seek protection here. 

Lord How. (bursting out from concealment}. Man, 

the best words I ever lived to hear 
Your lips have uttered ! Ha ! the Queen is safe, 
The peace of England follows on that safety ! 
Ho, fellows, fetch the choicest vintage forth. 
The Queen is safe. Long live the Queen of 

England ! 

Drink to her health, drink all to her salvation, 
We'll have no stinting here. 

Mess. Her gracious Majesty is close at hand, 
Spent with the weariness of her long ride. 

Lord How. Let all give welcome, no, 'twere 

better not. 

Wife, daughter, children, welcome home your Queen. 

[Exeunt. 
Re-enter Princess Mary, with Lord Howard, Lady 

Howard, and party. 

Lord How. Poor is this dwelling for a royal lady, 
But loyal hearts will give you of their best. 

Princess. It is enough ! I am o'ercome with joy 



46 TWO QUEENS. 

And weariness and gratitude to all. 

You are too good, I have no words to speak, 

Nor deeds to recompense your love to me. 

Lady How. Ah, madam ! you are weary with 

your ride. 
Princess. Aching in every bone, but thank God 

safe ! 

And what can I in this extremity 
But weep and pray, and pray and weep again 
Lord How. Hark to that shout, it is my armed 

retainers, 

Who shout for joy that you are Queen of England. 
Princess. Last night it was a kingdom or a 

scaffold : 

But for you, friend, before this very hour 
My head had fallen upon the traitor's block. 
But Heaven is merciful, and I am here, 
And tears become not my deliverance. 

Lord How. Madam, here's wine, the choicest of 

our store. 
Princess. No wine like joy, I scarce yet know 

myself, 
The weight of twenty years is rolled away ; 



TWO QUEENS. 47 

Oh, if deliverance can purchase good, 
That good is all your own and ever must be ! 
But I am faint, my heavy eyelids close, 
Pray you, I have not far to find my room. 
I've much to speak of, but 'tis fruitless now, 
To- morrow we shall talk on what hath chanced. 



4 8 TWO QUEENS. 



ACT III. 

SCENE I. THE TOWER. 
Lord and Lady Northumberland. 

Lord North. I've staked my all upon a desperate 

throw ! 

Lady North. Good sir, be calm. 
Lord North. Fill up the cups ! Damnation to the 

hag! 
She has no cause to love me. 

Lady North. Sir, no more. 

Lord North. No pomp, nor power, nor circum- 
stantial bravery, 

Can ever pay for greatness. Three days past 
In all but name I was the king of England 
And now 

Lady North. You will be more not less. 

Lord North. Who knows ? 



TWO QUEENS. 49 

The evils I have seen on other lives 
Oppress my fancy : death with unsheathed sword 
Stands betwixt me and her: the one goes down 
And Heaven knows which. 

Lady North. Banish these thoughts, ill augury 
bodes success. 

Lord North. Fortune's the merest fribble, no way 

kind, 

She loves to trick men with an alien splendour, 
To lift the poor and set them among princes, 
Only to dash them madly from their place 
And teach them the uncertainty of pride. 
Man's power is but a cable spun of sand, 
A gossamer-web, a bodiless appearance, 
A rainbow-tissued nothing gilded ruin. 

Lady North. Who yield to humour lend themselves 

to loss : 

Think of your points of vantage. 
Lord North. Dearest wife ! 

Success comes sweeter when beyond our hope. 

Lady North. You are again yourself : have the 
lads come ? 

Lord North. Their delay bodes disaster. 



50 TWO QUEEN'S. 

Lady North. Peace ! they come. 

Let me go, husband. Ambrose ! 
Enter Ambrose. 

Lord North. No need to speak, she's fled. 
Ambrose. With all her household. 

Lord North. Our luck, too. Whither ? 
Ambrose. Sir, to Keninghall. 

Or so we heard for we could gather naught 
More certain than her flight. 

Lord North. More mischief still. 

Ambrose. The Lords in Council, sir, await you 

now. 
Lord North. Damn them for traitors; not a man 

is true ! 
Have they heard aught? 

Ambrose. Not, sir, from me. 

Lord North. Well, I must see them. Say I'll 

see them here. 

We'll face the truth, 'tis folly to conceal ; 
And flaws in fortune are retrieved by guile. 
Enter the Lords in Council, with Lady Suffolk. 
North. Shall we await the presence of the 
Queen ? 



TWO QUEENS. 5 1 

Lady Suffolk. She has retired to her own cham- 
ber, sir, 
O'erwearied with the pressure of the time. 

Lord North. We will not vex her then. Your 

pardon, sirs, 

That we have kept you. Tidings that are slow 
Oft come most welcome. Lady Mary's gone. 
Some say to Holland, leaving so the kingdom, 
A weighty charge for one not born to rule, 
Therein methinks proving her better wisdom. 
Pembroke. She is not here then. 
Lord North. No, sir, she is not here : 

Nor is it known for truth which way she fled; 
Some say she waits the issue of affairs 
In Norfolk : 'tis a likely reasoning. 

Arundel. And you will fetch her thence? 

Lord North. 'Twere wisest so. 

Pembroke. If she be there the east will surely 

rise. 
Lord North. They had fought anyway; we looked 

for that. 

Lady Suffolk. O, sir, I pray you, do not do her 
ill; 



5 2 TWO QUEENS. 

Why should a woman mix in state affairs? 
She'll yield to fortune; trust a woman for't. 

Lord North. And if she did, her friends would 

still resist. 

Two Queens can never share in sovereignty. 
Northampton. Will you to Norfolk then? 
Lord North. Therefore I called you 

To weigh the matter well before we act. 
But prudence urges me to keep the city, 
And guard the Sovereign in her novel state. 
Arundel. Suffolk can stay. 

Suffolk. Your counsel, sir, is ready ; 

I may not wish to stay. 

Arundel. O proper stuff! 

You know you always do what others want. 
Northumberland must go. 

Enter Messenger with letter from Queen 

Mary. 
Arundel to Pembroke. What missive makes the 

Lord Protector pale? 
Pembroke. Hush ! he imparts the news ! 
Lord North. My lords, this letter comes most 
opportune, 



TWO QUEENS. 53 

And shows the light where we were most perplexed. 
The Princess is in Norfolk. 

Northampton. Then you'll go. 

Lord North. I will not leave the city yet a while. 
Suffolk, will you take guidance of my sons 
In their rash youth? You, Warwick, go with them. 
Pembroke, I'll keep you here, if't be your will. 
But you, Northampton, would be well with them; 
We must not clothe the field to strip the city, 
But leave a power in both. 

Suffolk. When shall we start? 

Lord North. To-morrow at your earliest : ere you 

rest 

I would impart some counsel in affairs. 
Can you attend me now, or must we wait? 
I need not keep you further, gentlemen. 
Ladies, adieu ! 

\Exeunt all but Lady Suffolk and Lady 
Northumberland, Pembroke, and 
Arundel. 

Enter Guildford, Lady Jane following. 
Guildford. Gentlemen, mother, all, is this the truth 
I am not King of England? 



54 TWO QUEENS. 

Lady North. Who denies? 

Gidldford. My wife, now in her chamber. Here 

she comes, 

To Arundel and Pembroke in hot haste. 
Enter Lady Jane. 

Lady Jane. Tell me, my lords, what is it that I hear 
Of Guildford's coronation? Can it be 
Without my knowledge Guildford is a King 
Ere the assembling of my Parliament? 
It fears me, sirs, ye do but mock my youth; 
But think me not, though young, so ill advised 
As not to know the limit of my powers ; 
And if ye counsel rash and hasty acts 
In this, my lords, ye act not as my friends. 

Guildford. I am a King, proud girl, if you are 
Queen. 

Lady Jane. The crown to me came by direct 

command, 

But Edward named no Guildford in his will. 
And if I overstep my natural scope 
And give a King to an unready people, 
Then I, the very soul and fount of justice, 
In my own person do pervert its sway. 



TWO QUEENS. 55 

Lady North. So wise a Queen can scarce need 

help to rule ! 

She's wit enough to guide the universe. 
Why should she seek the poor advice of men? 

Lady Jane. Madam, it is my right to search the 

truth, 
Such words are ill-becoming. 

Guildford. Haughty spouse ! 

No wife will ever bear the rule o'er me ; 
I will be King, proud girl, be sure of that, 
If you are Queen. Think you I'll be your slave ? 
You greatly err. 

Lady Jane. It is not, Guildford, want of love to you, 
Nor over-greed for power that makes me speak ; 
But that you are a King is not the truth, 
And what is not the truth is all a lie, 
And they do err who shut their eyes to light, 
Walking blindfold in error. 

Lady North. Thankless chit ! 

Who takes the trouble that will make you Queen ? 

Lady Jane. My lords, have you no counsel in 

distress ? 
Am I not right? I cannot but be right. 



56 TWO QUEENS. 

ArundeL There is no precedent for either case; 
Your unwed cousins have been set aside 
Lest by their marriage they might harm the State. 
Guildford. Then I am King ! 
Lady Jane. If so, who rules the land ? 

If power be equal, I am set aside 
To whom the crown was due : what sense in that ? 
Why should the King leave me an empty honour? 
Guildford. Who argues with a woman ? They've 

no wit 

To know when they are beaten. I shall go. 
So great a Queen can never own a husband ; 
Go, boast yourself in solitary state 
That you are Queen of England. I am King." 

[Exit. 
Lady North. That is the way to reverence a 

husband ! 
You've taught us what those books mean. Heaven 

be praised 

I never pressed my girls with too much learning. 
But I must after him and curb this humour, 
Or else you'll rue the end o't. 

[Exit. 



TWO QUEENS. 57 

Lady Suffolk. Take no heed : 

They're all alike, Jane ; never speak the truth 
If you would live in comfort. You're too open. 
Arundel. It is Northumberland supports your 

cause, 

'Tis scarcely wise to thwart him ; he is one 
That can both make and mar you. 

Lady Jane. This is strange. 

Am I the Queen, or does his father rule ? 

Arundel. Initiate rule totters without support ; 
You must make peace with Guildford. 

Lady Jane. When he's wrong 

I cannot 

Etiter Warwick. 

Warwick. My lords, do ye prolong your confer- 
ence? 

'Tis long past midnight; you detain the Queen 
Beyond all reason. Shall I bid them go? 

Lady Jane. Will they not wait? the roads are 

dark at night, 
And the mire heavy with the recent rain. 

Pembroke. The moon shines full and floods the 
way with brightness; 



58 TWO QUEENS. 

Much is to do before the break of day. 

We'll leave you, madam, with your pardon now. 

Think on my words at leisure. 

\_Exeunt. 
Lady Jane. Oh, mother, mother, everything is 

strange ! 

I'll play the Queen no more; they're fooling me. 
When I came up the Watergate to-day, 
All stared at me as I had been a show, 
Or one that had gone mumming out of time. 
I scarce know what to think on't. 

Lady Suff. You young folk think too much about 

yourselves !' 

The year or two that gives you woman's grace 
Bewilders those who class you as a babe. 
My child, the Londoners scarce know your name ; 
Your welcome need not vex you. 

Lady Jane. Very strange 

The people should not know their future Queen. 
Lady Suff. The young King's death possesses all 

their thought. 

Lady Jane. 'Tis true : I had not thought o't. 
Dearest mother, 



TWO QUEENS. 59 

This bustling drives out every gentle thought. 
No wonder men are hard; I cannot think, 
Or feel, or do beyond the present instant. 
Let us to rest. You're weary, so am I. 



SCENE II. FRAMLINGHAM. 



Lady Ann. Madam, I pray you, rest. 

Queen. The mind's too full. 

Mere bodily rest is naught. I've much to write. 

Lady Ann. Let me write for you, madam, with 

your words; 
You want the use of bodily fatigue. 

Queen. Joy banishes fatigue. Think, this day 
week ! 

Lady Ann. I tremble yet to think on't. 

Queen. I rejoice: 

Life's changefulness is like an opal gleam 
On a dull tissue, thereby glorified; 
The mystery of change gives point to joy 



60 TWO QUEENS. 

And sweetens pain, since who can tell the bliss 
Hid behind life's next turning. So with me. 

Lady Ann. Madam, indeed, 'tis cause of thank- 
fulness. 

Queen. My nature withered in obscurity, 
For I was born to rule. Labour itself 
Wearies me less than dull vacuity. 
Give me the letters. Have you marked them yet? 

Lady Ann. Here, madam. 

Queen. In all this joy are two great drops of 

bitter 

The stuff that tears are made of. Silent and chill 
The King lies in his chamber, far away 
From civil discord and neglect of friends, 
He rests in peace, poor boy ! none cares for him, 
So late the care of all. 

Lady Ann. 'Tis terrible ! 

No guard of honour, no repose of state ; 
The Lord Protector's mad to leave him thus, 
So late the lord and master of us all. 

Queen. Death is his master now ; the other grief 
Is a more living gall : Lady Elizabeth, 
Shut in her chamber with a feigning sickness, 



TWO QUEENS. 61 

Writes not a word to me nor to the other 
Until she sees who wins. I hate such craft; 
But who gets grapes from thistles? She is deep 
Just like her mother; but she's won the people 
With smooth hypocrisy and cunning ways. 
I'll have my trouble with her, that I know, 
She'd better have a care. 

Enter Usher. 
The Duke of Norfolk waits. 

Norf. Madam, great news ! 

Northumberland proclaims you Queen in Cambridge. 

Queen. Is't possible he can have stooped so low? 
The appalling wickedness of men confounds me ! 
Had I so pledged myself as he has done, 
I would have torn my tongue out by the roots 
Sooner than bate one jot of her fair title 
Whom I had named my Queen: her cause is lost. 
Without a drop of bloodshed I am Queen. 
Therefore the Lord be thanked. 

Norf. Madam, the Lords are here, 

Eager to swear allegiance. 

Queen. Bid them approach : 

I fear, sir, I may merit some reproach 



62 TWO QUEENS. 

By lack of recognition, for this morn 

I saw their faces blurred as in a mist 

Of mine expectancy. You must use skill 

To abet my memory. Sussex is here and Bath, 

I know some others, Wharton and Mordaunt, too, 

The Jernynghams, besides I know some names, 

But not the face to match them. 

Enter various lords and gentlemen. 
My Lord of Sussex, hail ! Nay, sir, I shame 
That one so reverend should bow the knee. 
Prithee, sir, rise unveil not, the hoar head 
Is as a crown, and Kings should not unveil 
Before their fellows. 

And Lord Wharton, too ? 
Dear for his own sake and his gentle sister. 
My Lord of Bath ! What a bold move was yours 
To set me on the throne. You, too, and you 
So many more, no wonder I am Queen. 
Oh, if devotion merit recompense, 
Then I am yours in heart, and ever will be : 
Ye shall forget the perils of the past 
In tranquil peace ; while righteousness and honour, 
The noblest fruits of fair prosperity, 



TWO QUEENS. 63 

Shall grow for all beholders. Sirs, again, 
I'll meet you all this evening, know my friends, 
And pour the humble tribute of my thanks 
On every faithful follower. 



6 4 TWO QUEENS. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE I. TOWER. 
Lady Jane and her Waiting- Woman, Angela. 

Lady Jane. Let me spin, Angela. 

Angela. Dear my lady, 

The wheel's too heavy for the like of you. 

Lady Jane. I'll try it anyhow, it makes a noise. 
My mother will be here soon ; you can go. 

Shuttle, shuttle as you fly, 

Tell me what my life is ? 
Young and simple maiden I, 
But I know what strife is. 
Turn treadle, run thread, 
Joy and sorrow soon are sped. 

Shuttle, shuttle as you fly, 
Tell me what is honour ? 



TWO QUEENS. 65 

She's a nymph so rare and shy, 
Few men look upon her. 

Turn treadle, run thread, 

Joy and sorrow soon are sped. 

Shuttle, shuttle as you fly, 
Tell me what is duty? 



Enter Guildford. 
Lady Jane. Guildford, what ails you? You are 

pale as death. 
Guildford. Dead men are in this place. Come, 

let us go. 
Lady Jane. These are strange words. Guildford, 

what do you mean ? 
Guildford. Who ever prospered yet that entered 

here? 

I tell you 'tis a charnet house, a pit 
Brimful of dead men's bones. It can tell secrets. 
Lady Jane. Such horrid words betoken dreadful 

ill. 
Speak, I entreat you. 

Guildford. All are gone. 

Lady Jane. Who ? 



66 TWO QUEENS. 

Guildford. The Lords in Council ; we are left 
alone. 

Lady Jane. Whence heard you this ? 

Guildford. I saw them all myself 

Take boat upon the river. 

Lady Jane. They'll return. 

Guildford. Yes, armed with city bands to take us 

prisoner. 

Come, no delay, 'tis fatal. Let us leave 
While there is time, we will not have it long. 

Lady Jane. Flight is the seal of guilt : I am not 

guilty, 

Not willingly at least ; those were to blame 
Who told me I was Queen. 1 cannot go 
To escape the just recoil of wrongful deeds. 
But you can go, you have no cause to stay. 

Guildford. That's all you think of me : I have 

no honour, 
I tell you, Jane, you never cared for me. 

Lady Jane. What makes you speak so ? 

Guildford. Hertford was a fool, 

And naught to look at either. 

Lady Jane. Why this Hertford ? 



TWO QUEENS. 67 

Guildford. I am your husband, but you love me 

not. 
Lady fane. What have I done that you should 

speak like this? 
Guildford. Done ? Nothing : 'tis the root and 

ground of all, 

You're just as kind to me as to most people, 
And care as little. I would kiss the ground 
Your feet have trod on. 

Lady Jane. When you left me, Guildford ? 

Guildford. I loved you all the same, I always 

loved you 
From the first hour I saw you. 

Lady Jane, Men are strange : 

Your will was never thought of in this marriage. 
What would you have? 

Guildford. Scold me, Jane, roundly, and I'll know 

your love, 

And I deserve it; but I'm naught to you, 
Because I am no scholar. 

Lady Jane, Foolish boy ! 

The little more or less makes not much differ. 
But I, in turn, will tell you you are out, 



68 TWO QUEENS. 

Thinking I care for Hertford more than you. 
Why should I care for him or any man? 
And yet it is my comfort that you love me, 
For times are strange and everything is dark, 
And you had left me, I was all alone. 
Guildford, there's horses go why should you die? 
Guildford. I bide with you; it is not hard to 
die. 

Enter Lady Suffolk. 
Lady Stiff. Jane, Jane, what can this mean? 

What can it be? 

Armed men are in the court 'tis full of them 
The city bands, and not a soul I know. 

Lady Jane. Mother, the Lords in Council are not 

here. 

Lady Suff. Impossible ! they had a strait injunc- 
tion 

To attend your presence here. What does it mean ? 
Enter Lord Suffolk, who tears down the canopy from 

the royal seat. 
Lord Suff. Down with the canopy ! You are no 

Queen, 
My daughter, only an impostor here. 



TWO QUEENS. 69 

Lady Jane. But by King Edward's will I was 

made Queen, 

And all the lords have sworn that this was true. 
Are these oaths nothing? 

Lord Suff. Merest vanity : 

They have gone over to your cousin's side. 

Lady Jane. To me they swore allegiance and re- 
spect : 
What is the meaning of this sudden change? 

Lord Suff. Rats leave a sinking ship : your cause 

is lost, 
And they have left. 

Lady Jane. The Queen has faithful friends 

If they serve her like me. Then we can go, 
And leave this horrid place like a bad dream. 
Lord Suff. That may not be ; we all are prisoners 

here. 
Expect the worst; it may be we must die. 

Lady Jane. Oh, what a web of evil ! Oh, my 

father ! 

Death and destruction follow in my wake. 
O Guildford, heed me not 'tis life, 'tis life, 
The surge of woe that beats about a throne. 



70 TWO QUEENS. 

I'll never blame you. O my God, what blows 
Must hammer souls to shape ! 

Enter Guards. 
Guard. Gentlemen, you must go. Your names 

are writ 
Here in this paper, to be held apart. 

Lady Suff. O husband, shall I never see you 

more ? 

Guildford. Your words are in my heart and in- 
finite sorrow 
That I cause all this grief. 

Lord Suff. Farewell ! farewell ! 

Lady Jane. Oh, father ! 

Lord Suff. Care for your mother, child ; 

She needs it all. 

\Exeunl Guards, with Lord Suffolk 

and Lord Guildford Dudley. 
Lady Jane. Oh, mother, mother, do not look like 

that. 
Lady Suff. I knew this marriage never could bring 

I good ; 

When did alliance with deceitful men 
Ever bring profit ? Tush, my child, don't weep. 



TWO QUEENS. 7 1 

There's much to think of, and the others too 
If we are taken, Kate has got no sense. 
Oh if my tears could wash away disaster 
I'd melt my eyes, weeping for all this woe. 
Tush, child, bear up. We are together yet, 
Why should you weep for him. 'Tis over now. 



SCENE II. WHITEHALL. 
The Queen and Lady Ann Wharton. 

Lady Ann. Madam, so young 

Queen. Not so young, Lady Ann, 

But he can be seditious. You're too gentle: 
Be firm and steel yourself against petition. 
I will not hear requests. 

Lady Ann. His mother, madam, 

Spoke with such tears of his unguarded youth. 

Queen. Shall thousands groan in everlasting pain, 
Because their leader was too feeble nerved 
To lay the whip on foul and impious lies? 

Lady Ann. Truth is so various, madam, like a plant, 



72 TWO QUEENS. 

The root, leaves, stem, and blossom all diverse, 
And he who hacks some dull unsightly root 
May kill a living growth. 

Queen. Ah, Lady Ann, 

You are too simple-minded, think the best, 
Trust each man's reasoning sooner than your own. 
But truth is one, let not the present blind you ; 
We have had martyrs too, think on the past. 
And they who prostitute the name of truth 
T' include each specious form of private error 
Would make of life a vast untrodden waste 
Of incoherent purpose. Men are sick 
Of wavering courses ; there is no other way 
To clear the rubbish from the path of truth. 

Lady Ann. Madam, I crave your pardon for bold 
speech. 

Queen. Oh, Lady Ann, thank Heaven upon your 

knees 

You were not born to rule ! Do right or wrong, 
At every step I tread on bonded interests, 
And disaffection like a serpent hides 
Neath every courtly favour. 
Look at this hand, it is a little hand, 



TWO QUEENS. 73 

But it has signed death warrants. Woe the day ! 
Children must feel the rod, I must not flinch 
From my stern duty, which is inch-meal death. 
At the sword's point this anarchy must end; 
And I must fight alone with all these hounds 
Barking at once; do violence to nature 
At every hour and moment of the day 
That is to be a queen. 

Lady Ann. But power is service 

And present troubles soon will be at rest. 

Queen. But they come on, come on, like ocean's 

waves, 
Each moment brings its little drop of bitter. 

Lady Ann. The strength is given to bear it. 

Queen. No, it is not. 

'Tis misery, misery, unending pain. 

Enter Usher. 

The Austrian Ambassador waits. 
Enter Renard. 

Queen. Be near if I should call you. 

{Exit Lady Ann. 

Queen. Be seated, sir, have you had further counsel ? 

Renard. Are the lords still averse? 



74 



TWO QUEENS. 



Queen. I will not hear of Courtenay, that is fixed ; 
A churl not fit to match my serving maid, 
But still they urge this marriage. 

Renard. What Englishman can match your royal 

state ? 
Queen. None that I know, but they will have me 

wed. 
Renard. I know a match that might command 

the world. 

Queen. Ambition tempts me not, but dignity. 
Renard. Prince Philip matches you in royal state. 
Queen. These English lords detest all foreigners. 
Renard. But to your wish, at least, the lords must 

bow. 
Queen. Nay, self-advancement is in all their 

thought, 

Scarce one in office but has sworn before 
Allegiance to Northumberland's Queen Jane. 

Renard. That was a treacherous time. I scarce 

had hoped 
To see you win your way so prosperously. 

Queen. I had the right, and London citizens 
Pushed for me strongly. 'Twas a perilous time ; 



7 'WO QUEENS. 75 

Yet, let me tell you, there were consolations 
Exist no longer for the crowned Queen. 
I am a prisoner in my palace here, 
Fenced round with jealous eyes at every turn, 
And she, my hapless rival for the throne, 
Enjoys more real liberty than I. 

Renard. This marriage would give strength. 

Queen. A perilous cure. 

Why should I raise a storm about my head 
With vain proposals? I shall never wed. 

Renard. Not till the fitting princely partner comes. 
Your Majesty is right : but were there one, 
Young, rich and noble, equal in estate 
To your own dignity, who came to sue, 
Your maiden purpose would not say him nay. 

Queen. There's no such suitor, so my purpose 
stands. 

Renard. But there is one. I have his picture 

here. 

Would't please you to regard it, not as one 
Who sues unwelcome, but a gracious presence 
Which there portrays itself in every line. 

Queen. Such a gay gallant would not suit with me. 



7 6 TWO QUEENS. 

I am old, Renard, and older in my heart 
Than in my showing. I have suffered much. 

Renard. Let future bliss obliterate past ill. 

Queen. Oh, tempt me not with joy, I'll none of it, 
For mirth was banished from my earliest years, 
And bitter cups are those most fit for me. 

Renard. Madam, it is the mind that makes the 

man, 

Not the mere count of swiftly passing years ; 
A younger woman has not got the scope, 
The breadth of sympathy, the weight of counsel, 
Which wakens love in such an august mind. 

Queen. Oh, tempt me not from wisdom let me 

be. 

I'll see you on the morrow, if you will. 
Yet, stay, I'll keep the picture. 

\Exit Renard. 

Queen. I thought life had dealt niggardly with me, 
But Heaven has sent me this. O most fair face ! 
I am the Queen of England : I have much, 
And I will give you all. Oh ! I will love you, 
Till you forget my years. Sweet sun of joy, 
Risen on the darkness of my dreary days ! . 



TWO QUEENS. 77 

Enter Lady Ann. 

Queen. Look, Lady Ann, is't not a noble face? 

Lady Ann. Whose is the picture, madam? 

Queen, Oh, you are dull. 

Think with what fools and dotards I am evened. 

Lady Ann. I do not know the face. 

Queen, But you will know it. 

Guess, and guess quickly : if you had a lover 
Would you not choose that face ? 

Lady Ann. Why, madam, no. 

I'd choose the deed, not face. 

Queen. Oh, you are old, 

And I begin my life : it is my suitor, 
Philip, the Prince of Spain. What think you now ? 

Lady Ann. Madam, Heaven make him worthy 

of your love, 

For mortal born can never wholly meet 
A woman's expectation. May the fair face 
Prove the fair pledge of nobleness unlimned ! 



78 TWO QUEENS. 

SCENE III. WHITEHALL COUNCIL CHAMBER. 
Deputation of Commons. 

First Com. Another burnt at Lewes ! 

Second Com. Monstrous ! What next ? 

Third Com. Heaven only knows : the people will 

not stand it ; 

They'll rise in arms and drive her from the throne. 
First Com. We had been better with Northum- 
berland ; 

At any rate he saw our present case 
With an unwedded woman on the throne. 
No peace since she began, but endless trouble. 
Fourth Com. He had slain hundreds where she 

slays her ten ; 

Men are like tigers when they once taste blood ; 
And she began with scruples, he had none. 

First Com. This marriage will but make the 

trouble worse ; 

I wonder at a woman of her years 
Doting upon a boy beyond all nature. 



TWO QUEENS. 79 

Second Com. He's not so young, sir, as his 

picture looks. 
But love's like measles, worse when taken late. 

Third Com. They say he is as cruel as the grave. 
They're matched in nature truly. 

Fourth Com. It is the people's fault from end to 

end ; 
They did not know their mind, and she has taught 

them. 
Second Com. And she has taught them other than 

she thought ! 

1 never grudged her saying of the mass, 
Her altars, vestments, censers, and such like. 
Somerset's whitewash was not to my mind, 
But when it comes to burning folk alive 
There's something wrong, I warrant. 

Fourth Com. Think of the past 

The rank disorder and indecency. 
Who did not cry for order? 

First Com. Want of judgment 

Breeds tenfold chaos, and the Queen has none. 

Fifth Com. There's something more : 

Is she to set the limits of Heaven's mercy, 



8o TWO QUEEA'S. 

And bound the Heavenly kingdom by her will? 
Or who is judge ? 

First Com. Hush ! she comes. 

Enter the Queen and train. 

Queen. Most honourable sirs, ye come right welcome, 
To make request touching the common weal 
And mine own welfare, wherefore speak your plea 
And I shall hearken, as my bounden duty. 

Speaker. To our most noble and religious Queen 
The Lords and Commons of the realm send greeting : 
For that your royal Grace should know their will, 
Both for your health and for the general weal, 
We here are present : we would thereto add 
The great desire they have toward your marriage. 
Wherefore, we humbly pray your royal Grace 
Should marry soon with one of your own subjects. 
A foreign prince might cumber much the state 
With barbarous customs ; further, he might use 
The English wealth to our own detriment, 
And, having English forces in control, 
Might controvert them unto our own hurt ; 
Yea, he might bear your Highness from the land, 
And rear your children in unwholesome ways. 



TWO QUEENS. 81 

Therefore your people humbly make request 
That foreign suits be wholly set aside 
As not conformable to native honour. 

Queen. Most honourable sirs, your zeal is great, 
But in that ye would choose our royal spouse, 
Your zeal, methinks, outsteps all decency. 
It hath not been the wont of Parliament 
Aforetime to direct its Sovereigns 
What spouse to choose, nor is it fitting now. 
Where private persons follow their own choice, 
A Queen may surely have like liberty. 
Much ye have said of marriage, but not much 
Of what imports us private inclination. 
I have lived maiden all my years of life, 
And maiden I will die if Heaven so please ; 
But, if my people force on me a spouse 
Against my will, the evils that they dread 
Will soon be on them, I'll not live to face't. 
Our coronation oath is not forgot. 
But I will marry me as God directs, 
Unto His honour and the country's weal, 
And follow no man's bidding. Are you answered ? 
Remove the Speaker. 



82 TWO QUEENS. 

Speaker is removed. 

Queen. You, Gardiner, I thank for this affair. 
Gardiner. I knew not their request, most royal 

lady, 
They made their own petition and not I. 

Queen. You should have seen that I was not 

insulted. 

But this I know, you favour Courtenay's suit. 
Gardiner. He was my fellow prisoner. 
Queen. 'Tis fair reason 

Why I, that am a Queen, should wed with him, 
A foolish, ignorant, conceited ass. 
I'll hear no more petitions for a time. 

Gardiner. Did you not think to speak of the 

succession ? 

Queen. The Commons have insulted me to-day, 
Insulted me past bearing I'll not stay : 
When I am ready, I can summon them. 

[Exit. 
First Com. Of one commodity the Queen hath 

store, 

To wit her temper; were it turned to coin 
Her Grace's debtors would be quickly paid. 



TWO QUEENS. 83 



ACT V. 

SCENE I. WHITEHALL. ANTECHAMBER. 
Cicely, a Waiting Gentlewoman. 

Cicely. One, two. That's ten and not out yet 
How can she love the Queen ? but some are saints. 

Enter Lady Ann. 

You have been up all night the Queen is cruel. 
Lady Ann. Hush, Cicely ! hush. Her grace could 

get no sleep. 
Cicely. And so, forsooth, must keep her hand in 

yours 

The whole night through; mere selfishness, I say. 
Lady Ann. The young are hard. It is my trivial 

service, 
I was her friend ere ever you were born. 

Cicely. More reason she should spare you, heart- 
less thing. 



84 TWO QUEENS. 

Lady Ann. Cicely, what words ! you know not 

what you say 

And but your heart is kinder than your speech, 
I'd send you from me. 

Cicely. Dearest Lady Ann ! 

She ought to yield ; nobody wants the match ; 
Pure misery to herself and every one. 

Lady Ann. The young are ever wiser than the old ; 
You must be patient. 

Cicely. Father Feckenham's here. 

Lady Ann. I want to see him ere he see the Queen. 

Cicely. I'll tell him then, he is a dear old soul. 

Queen (within"). Blot out that name ! I will not 

know it more 

My people, O my people, will you slay me? 
Lady Ann. Poor soul ! poor soul ! 
Enter Father Feckenham. 

Oh, sir, why are you here ? 
Fecken. I thought yon summoned me. 
Lady Ann. Not here, not here. 

The Queen will soon be stirring. 'Tis her chamber. 
Fecken. How has her Highness slept? 
Lady Ann. Sir, do not ask. 






TWO QUEENS. 85 

A dreadful night, the terrors of the past, 
The toils and dangers of the last few months 
All lived again in agony and in peril. 
Fecken. The marriage, too, is off. 
Lady Ann, Believe it not. 

Queen (within). O Philip, Philip, Philip, but I love 

you ! 
My people, oh my people, slay me first ! 

Lady Ann. All the night long for weeks she speaks 

like that, 

Gazes upon his picture by the hour, 
And all night long a lamp is lit beside it. 
I crave your counsel, sir, in sore distress; 
Such love is madness ; break her of this passion 
By any means, or flesh and blood must fail. 
Fecken. What would you have me do ? 
Lady Ann. Make her decide. 

This wavering leads to madness. 
None else has power or weight in speaking truth. 
Surely in piety there must be help, 
To you she may unburden. Hush ! she stirs. 
Follow me hence, she must not see you here. 

\Exeunt. 



86 TWO QUEENS. 

Enter the Queen. 

Queen. How cold it is ! I shiver with the cold, 
These spring days wear a dagger in their brightness 
That chills the blood like a deceitful friend. 
Where's Lady Ann ? Poor soul, perchance grown tired 
Of waiting on me, I'll not press her service. 

Enter Lady Ann. 
If Father Feckenham's here, I'll see him now. 

\Exit Lady Ann. 
Queen. Oh for some charm to numb the power of 

thought ! 

Who left the glass there? Cicely, most like. 
Her vanity wants reproof. Vile glass, you lie. 
I am not yet so old, so hollow-eyed ! 
Oh, I am shattered, shattered, a mere wreck 
Of what I was but a few months ago. 
I would not ride that hundred miles again, 
Not if my life were on't. 'Tis vanity. 
I think that I could count my reign by years 
Not months, the months have been so slow, 
And all the hope, the life, the energy 
Have been drained out of me. 

Well, she must die ; 



TWO QUEENS. 87 

There is no other way, she lived too long. 
Oh, if my enemies were but this paper 
How I would tear them into pieces, so ! 
But the worst evil is within this breast. 

Enter Feckenham. 

Good Father Feckenham, you see me changed ; 
Am I much altered, tell me, in your eyes? 
Fecken. Your Majesty is weary, is it not? 
The last few days have worn out strength and spirit, 
You have not yet recovered from the shock. 

Queen. I am one quivering nerve of agitation, 
Strung to vibration by suspense and pain. 
Oh, it was fearful every drop of blood 
Stood still in terror pity, pity me. 
I stood alone, upon the portico 
No man was with me all the seething mass 
Yelling beneath me, mad with rage and drink, 
I chid the tremblers, roused the valiant-minded, 
And won the day in face of desperation. 
Fecken. A most courageous Queen. 
Queen. Mere self-defence. 

If I had gone, my enemies would have won, 
Perchance they might have torn me limb from limb. 



88 TWO QUEENS. 

There is no mercy in a furious mob, 
And I have no affection from this people. 

Fecken. You wrong yourself in over vehemence. 
This people made you Queen. 

Queen. I had forgot. 

I hate them all, and every day I live 
I seem to hate them more. Would I had died 
Ere ever I was Queen. 'Tis but a mood, 
I'll be myself anon. Saw you the Lady Jane? 

Fecken. Madam, without avail. 
She is so fixed and grounded in her faith 
I have not yet dislodged her. 

Queen. Latin and Greek 

Were her undoing : she was ill brought up, 
Spending her time on vain deceitful learning, 
Scorning the holy teaching of the Church. 

Fecken. She seems a child, and yet in innocence 
Hath such a subtle power of weighty speech 
I could not speak her home. 

Queen. All of a piece. 

She's obstinate, believe me, very stiff. 
She spoilt her own promotion, made my heir 
But for perversity. 'Tis over now. 



TWO QUEENS. 89 

Heard you how my Lord Suffolk was ta'en prisoner 

Hid like a cat within a hollow tree. 

But for his plots and her apostasy 

She would have been the heiress to the throne. 

Saw you the husband, Guildford Dudley, too? 

Fecken. He seems a very gentle, pleasant lad. 

Queen. The Dudleys are all handsome, more's 

the mischief". 
Come, tell me more, you told them they must die ? 

Fecken. And my heart bled to do't; it seemed 

more like 

They were two self-willed lovers, and I paused, 
Half doubting if the message could be true. 

Queen. Peace, Feckenham, peace, why do you 

stab me too? 
It is my odious duty. Not my will. 

Fecken. He spoke most manly, bid me say adieu, 
And tell his mistress he loved her alone, 
And died twice over as her cause of death. 

Queen. Oh, she is happy ! some one cares for 

her! 

More than is true of me, the Queen of England. 
Who would shed tears for me if I were gone, 



9 TWO QUEENS. 

An uneasy riddle that men cannot solve? 
Oh, father, all my heart is but one wound, 
And whom I love most, writes me not one word 
In all this trouble which himself has caused. 
It is the crown he weds and not the woman. 
Why should he seek a wan, ill favoured bride, 
And how I crave his love, hunger and thirst, 
Die for affection, only Heaven can know. 

Fecken. My daughter, love is but the hungry heart 
Preying upon its own imagination; 
There is no food, nor can there ever be 
In phantom banquets on earth's wilderness. 
I, who am old, have oft time pondered this, 
Why life and joy and energy and strength 
Are spent on vain delusions. 

Queen. Oh, not vain ! 

Surely on this side time there is some truth, 
Life were a mockery else and love is peace. 

Fecken. My daughter, half the ills that cumber 

earth 
Spring from no other source. 

Queen. It is not true, 

It is the mastery over life in time. 



TWO QUEENS. 9 1 

Fecken. The world was conquered in reproach and 

shame 
And in self mastery of wilful thought. 

Queen. But I have nothing else. 

Fecken. You have your people, 

Turn your eyes round you and your heart will fill. 

Queen. I was not born to rule, I hate this people, 
No gratitude, no mercy, endless grumbling. 
Pray for me, holy father, 
The most unhappy woman in the land. 
Pray that in victory, I may have peace. 
I cannot, no, I will not give him up 
Who is the spouse ordained for me by Heaven, 
The champion and defender of the faith. 
Yet Philip, though I love him oh, is cruel, 
Cruel to me who love him I am mad 
Brain weary, father, sick at the heart, 
Therefore I utter words bereft of meaning. 
Leave me, sir, I must rest. 

Fecken. Shall I call some one, madam, to your aid ? 

Queen. No, leave me thus, I shall do well alone; 
Men mark my face, and set it in their books, 
And peer on me with idle, curious eyes. 



9 2 TWO QUEENS. 

So I must smile and counterfeit glad cheer 
While the heart gnaws within. I'll rest and rest 
And gather up my powers for that great strife. 
I know I was not throned for my own good, 
The misery of my soul can teach me that ; 
But to be champion of the Holy Church, 
To fight its battles, and defend its cause, 
And stem the encroaching tide of heresy, 
That is a task beyond a giant's strength, 
That I, mere woman, should be chosen out 
To compass this great end is recompense, 
Greater reward than any earthly bliss. 

SCENE II. THE TOWER. 
Lady Jane and her Waiting- Woman, Angela. 

Lady Jane. When say you they will pass ? 

Angela. Their warden said 

To-day about this hour or somewhat later. 

Lady Jane. And I shall see him and my father too. 
Ah ! Angela, I want so much to see them. 
The Queen sent word that I might see my husband, 
And I refused, the parting seemed so brief, 



TWO QUEENS. 93 

Scarce worth the weeping for but I was wrong 

Not that I wanted love but I lacked wisdom. 

Oh ! Angela, death is so hard for him 

So young, so strong, so full of life and vigour. 

I might have smoothed the sullen way of death 

And made it easier, but I thought my thoughts 

Unmindful of his wish. I would not see him. 

Yet, Angela, he loved me all the time, 

Loved me, poor me, without a charm to win him, 

When he was handsome beyond other men. 

Angela. 'Twas but a slight return for all this 

trouble. 
Lady Jane. No, no, not slight, far more than my 

desert, 

He taught me more than all the books I read; 
Life is a nobler school for thought than words 
And far more hard to master. 

Angela ! 

I'm dying now, you will not grudge my speech 
For all the years I've wasted : this I think, 
Men miss life's teaching in untutored thought. 
Now in a crabbed passage of the Greek 
I'd pause, weigh words, each letter, point and phrase, 



94 TWO QUEENS. 

Nor think my private judgment was the right 

Without due reasoning; but on a soul 

I'll pass my judgment with less pause to think 

Than put my thought in words. Now life is past 

And every jot of teaching thrown away 

Upon an ignorant scholar. That's my life. 

O learn the lesson of a wasted life and reverence 

all men. 

Hush ! do you hear ? that's horses. They are come. 
I'll put my whole soul in one smile to him, 
And smile to him as I should wish he'd smile 
To welcome me in heaven. 

Angela. Back from the window ! dear my lady, 

back ! 
Oh I implore you, I entreat you stay ! 

Lady Jane. You must not keep me back from my 

own husband. 

(Lady Jane sees the lifeless bodies of husband and 
father carried from the place of execution.} 

[She faints. 

Angela. O Heaven, prove merciful, let this be death. 
Alas, dear child, your death should cause me joy ; 
But no she wakes to taste the bitter end. 



TWO QUEENS. 95 

Lady Jane. Angela, have they passed ? I had 

forgot 

All marred by villains, cruel, cruel sight. 
Angela, I try to think of heavenly things 
But the tears blind me. Oh ! good Angela, 
I pray you do not come with me to-day. 
Sir John will see that every thing is right, 
And all men know I was a modest woman 
A Princess too and will not see me wronged. 

Indeed, good Angela, I do not want you ; 

For if I did, then I would bid you come. 
Angela. O most dear lady, 

Your head has lain upon this bosom once; 

Little thought I that my sweet lady's head 

Wonld ever lie upon a bloody pillow. 

Oh, I had sooner thought to see you crowned 

With all the pomp and state by the King's side, 

And this the end ! 

Shame on the black heart of Northumberland ! 

Shame on the bloody Queen that this should be ! 

Shame and thrice shame upon the laws of England 

That let the guiltless suffer for the guilty. 

O my sweet lady, I have seen you Queen, 



9 6 TWO QUEENS. 

Followed you through each changing chance of life, 
And, think you, I could ever leave you, sweet, 
And let you go to face your death alone? 
No, my dear lady, that can never be. 
Were death the penalty, I'd sooner die. 

Lady Jane. You have been good to me my whole 

life long. 

But all have been more kind than I deserved. 
Though life was short, I have had many friends. 
It comforts me in sorrow. Even the Queen 
Would save me in this pass if she had power, 
But dares not risk her people's peace for me. 
I think I understand it, Angela 
I was a Queen, though for so short a time, 
I felt the pulse of a whole nation's life 
Throb through my veins, I seem to feel it still, 
I think I should have felt it till I died. 
And Queens are different from humbler folk, 
The hearts of kings are in God's governance, 
And that is true when every slip and error 
Seems an unfathomable gulf of woe, 
And men's blood flows for some unhappy flaw 
Would pass unnoticed in a lesser woman. 



TWO QUEENS. 97 

I oft times think how much I have been spared. 
The Queen has had to suffer all alone. 

Angela. She is a wicked murderess, no less ! 

Lady Jane. Power is an awful thing in troublous 

times : 
Think upon this with pity. 

Angela. I will not pity her I never can. 

Lady Jane. Our Lord had mercy on His tor- 
turers ; 

They knew not what they did, nor does the Queen. 
There's some things, Angela, that I would tell you ; 
I wrote them in this paper for my mother. 
Here are my rings I shall not want them more. 
This with the portrait to young Robert Dudley; 
My grandmother it is men say like me. 
I think that's all. Though I was Queen of Eng- 
land 
I have not much that I can call my own. 

Angela. O my dear lady, do not break my heart ; 
Who cares for anything when you are gone? 

Lady Jane. Not now, perhaps, but time heals 
every ill. 

I'd not have any slighted. I must go. 
G 



9 TWO QUEENS. 

This is the saddest and the gladdest day 

Of all my life : my childhood was a dream : 

And that strange spell of trembling exaltation 

Is only like a dream within a dream. 

My mind is dazed with my approaching joy, 

And all the sorrow, all the mystery 

Dazzles my eyes like sunlight seen through tears 

I must apart to commune with myself 

Till the great moment. 

[Exit. 

Angela. Who knocks without? 

Feckenham. Open 'tis I. 

Enter Father Feckenham. 

Fecken. How ! she is gone ! I had not thought 
so soon. 

Angela. My lady has retired herself to pray. 

Fecken. I must have speech with her before she 

go- 

Angela. Oh, sir, I pray you do not vex her now. 
Fecken. Woman, I must speak with her ere she 

go- 

Angela. Oh, it is cruel to torment her thus, 
And stint the precious moments of her prayer. 



TWO QUEENS. 99 

i 

Fccken. Woman, I tell you I must speak with her. 
Compassion cannot make me fail in duty. 

Angela. Then wait without, sir, till I hear her will. 
Madam, the priest who talked with you before 
Is urgent here to see you. 

Lady Jane. Has the Queen sent him ? 

Angela. Yes, she has bid him come. 

Lady Jane. Bring him within. 
My heart is so fulfilled with thankfulness, 
I am so rooted and built up in joy, 
His words can scarce distress me. 
Enter Feckenhain. 

Fecken. Dear lady, have you pondered, have you 

thought, 

Have you weighed well my words of yesterday? 
O wandering lamb, why will you leave the fold? 
Turn from the error of your perverse ways, 
And cast presumptuous heresy aside. 

Lady Jane. Nay, by the Truth I hold, the Living 

Way, 

And therein trust I shall not wholly err, 
Knowing whose merits purged my guilty soul, 
And mine iniquity washed clean away. 



100 TWO QUEENS. 

Fecken. In confidence you err, and vain con- 
ceit, 

Who but the Bride can grace the marriage feast? 

The spotless Bride, the heart's supreme desire, 

The Holy Church, one, indivisible, 

The noble company of faithful souls, 

Whose fellowship you fondly cast aside. 

Turn at the eleventh hour there still is room 

The Church can still receive you to her breast; 

Why will you cast your virtue's crown aside 

For endless ruin, everlasting woe. 

Lady Jane. Speak not to me with vain, presump- 
tuous words ! 

A righteous Judge will judge your soul and mine; 

Man's judgment pains me not I know my 
ground. 

I think in heaven will be some little place 

Where I may pray and praise for evermore. 

Fecken. Oh, child ! you err you know not how 
you err; 

You break my heart with weeping. 

Lady Jane. Father, the time is past for idle 
words, 



TWO QUEENS. IOI 

The dial points the hour that I must die, 
And I must hasten to prepare for death. 

Fecken. Farewell, my child, we shall not meet 

again. 
Lady Jane. Nay, we shall never meet except you 

change. 

But you have life, and truth is very wide ; 
The gates of heaven are open every day. 
I thank you, sir, for your great courtesy, 
Albeit I cannot, no, nor ever could 
Accept your guidance; you have utterance 
Which may Heaven turn to better purposes. 

[Exit. 

Angela. Who knocks without ? 
Mistress Underhill. Open to me, N I pray; 

I have allowance Mistress Underhill. 

Angela. Ye will not be so greedy of her time 
To stint the precious moments of her prayer. 
If ye have mercy, spare my mistress now. 
Lady Jane. Angela, who waits upon me at this 

hour? 

Angela. 'Tis Mistress Underhill with her young 
babe. 



102 TWO QUEENS. 

Lady Jane. Let her be welcome : brief the space 

of time 

For kindly words, but all eternity 
For praising God. 

Mistress Under/nil. This is your god-son, madam, 
I brought him for a blessing ere you went. 

Lady Jane. I can remember that brief spell of 

time 

When I was called in mockery Queen of England. 
I thought to do the babe some favour then 
When he was older, but that all is past. 
Look how he smiles upon his god-mother. 
Alas ! poor babe, she cannot help thee now. 
May he live long and be a comfort to you, 
All other joys go with a parent's blessing. 
Yet were his life as mine 'twere not amiss, 
For after brief affliction I have joy. 
A step is on the stairs ; good mistress, go. 
Enter Sir John Gates, with soldiers. 
Sir J. Gates. Most noble, come. Would I were 

in your place. 

Lady Jane. Sir, it will soon be over. Angela, 
farewell. 



TWO QUEENS. 103 

Tell my dear mother that I feared not death. 
Father, farewell. What, you will come with me? 
Farewell, gentlemen, I'll not speak more. Farewell. 



THE END. 



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