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schiller's
Mary Stuart

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN

WITH AN INTRODUCTION ZV

EDWARD BROOKS, JR.

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PUBLIC LIBRART

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INTRODUCTION.

In the following pages will be found a translation of
*' Marie Stuart," a tragedy by Friederich Schiller, one of
the greatest writers the German nation can lay claim to.
In fact there is but one other German who is entitled to
rank with him as an author. Schiller's contemporary
and friend, Goethe, is generally conceded to have been
his superior as a writer of general literature, although in
ballad-writing, in the opinion of a majority of the later
critics, Goethe must yield the palm to his more youthful
friend.

Schiller's greatest work is probably his *' Wilhelm
TgU," though it is thought by some that this drama is
equalled by his '* Wallenstein." *' Marie Stuart" was
written after the latter aji4 fceforg t)ie former of these two
plays, about four or fiv^ i^eavs gnor io ( li^ auifii^r's death.
From a technical standpoint, the *' Marie otxtaU " is en-
titled to rank as one ofvifee testcOf ,ihe poet's compo-
sitions, but there is a spirit about t]fi& play which indicates
that Schiller lacked in'^eres^jnjhls aubjt^ct. The closing
scenes of Queen Mary's Hie have be^ii firitidzed as greatly
lacking the proper poetic treatment, and in fact none of
the characters in this play can be said to have been as
finely conceived as the personages repreaeuted vx ^\<.\\j3?t
of the two other plays. It la a. (i\iT\o>x& ^\A \^\^.^^^^^^2{Sw%

INTRODUCTION. ix

preparation of numerous compositions, some of which
were published in Thalia.

In 1787 Schiller went to Weimar, where he devoted
himself to the study of history, and in the following year
published his *' History of the Revolt of the Nether-
lands." The publication of this work procured for him
that which he had greatly longed for, viz. , a quiet and in-
dependent social position in his appointment to a profes-
sorship at the University of Jena. He delivered his first
lecture at this institution in 1789, and thus inaugurated a
professorship which lasted for ten years.

In 1788 Schiller met Charlotte von Langefeld, a young
and charming country girl, who possessed a character of
great sweetness and refinement, and an education unusual
.for a girl of her class. The acquaintance ripened into a
warm affection, and in 1790 the two were united in mar-
riage. The union proved to be a most happy one, and the
poet found a constant source of strength and happiness
in the loving and sympathetic companionship of his wife.

A short time after his marriage Schiller was attacked
by a dangerous illness, from the effects of which he never
entirely recovered. He was always in delicate health, and
at times suffered almost intolerable pain. In 1793, by the
kindness of the Prince of Augustenberg, he was enabled
to obtain a short rest from his university duties, and in
company with his wife returned to his native State, Wtir-
temberg, where he passed the time happily, in pleasant in-
tercourse with his father and mother and sisters.

Upon his return to Jena the following spring he
abandoned his historical researches and devoted himself
to the study of philosophy. His inspiration was mainly
derived from Kant, but he gave expression to mauY ladft.-

X INTRODUCTION.

pendent ideas and judgments, and it is said that his theo-
ries exercised considerable influence upon German writers
on art and literature.

Upon Schiller's first meeting with Goethe, which took
place in 1788, the two did not attract each other greatly ;
but in 1794, at a meeting of a scientific society at Jena, a
conversation which took place between these two writers
resulted in a warm friendship springing up between them.
The association of these two great minds is regarded to
have been of benefit to each. To Schiller is largely due
the inspiration of Goethe's later writings, while GoSthe
is largely responsible for the keener and more accurate
observation of ordinary facts which is apparent in Schil-
ler's latest works.

Upon the production of ** Wallenstein," Schiller de-
termined to devote himself entirely to the work of dra-
matic writing, and for the purpose of being near to a
theatre, he, in 1799, took up his residence in Weimar,
where he passed the remainder of his life. During his
last years his genius received many tokens of recognition.
In 1802 he was raised to noble rank, and in 1804 it was
intimated that, if he so desired, he would be invited to
settle in Berlin under conditions more advantageous than
those which then surrounded him. His health was, how-
ever, at this time completely broken, and in May of the
following year, in the forty-sixth year of his age, after
many years of terrible physical suflfering, he succumbec
to an attack of fever.

MARY STUART.

DKAMATIS PEKSON^.

Elizabeth, Que^n of England.

Maby Stuart, Queen of Scots,
a Prisoner in England.

BoB£BT Dudley, Earl of Lei-
cester.

Geoeqe Talbot, Earl of
Shrewsbury.

Wh.liam Cecil, Lord Bur-
leighf Lord High Treasurer.

Earl of Kent.

Sib WitLiAM Davison, Secre-
tary of State.

Sib Amias-Paulet, Keeper of
Maby.

Shk-Edwabd Mobtimeb, his
Nephew.

Count L'Aubespine, the
French Ambassador,

Count Bellievre, Envoy Ex-
traordinary from Prance.

O'Kelly, Mortimer's Friend.

Sib Drue Druby, another
Keeper o/Maby.

Star Andbew Melvil, her
House Steward.

Bubgoyne, her Physician.

Hannah Kennedy, her Nurse.

Mabgabet Cubl, her Attendant,

Sheriff of the County.

Officer of the Guard.

French and English Lords.

Soldiers.

Servants of State^ belonging to
Elizabeth.

Servants and Female Attendants
of the Queen of Scots.

ACT I.

Scene I.

A common Apartment in the Castle of Fotheringay,

Hannah Kennedy contending violently with Paxtlet, who is

abovl to break open a closet ; Drury with an iron crow.
Ksjn, How now, Sir? What fresh outrage have we here?

Back from that cabinet I
Paulet. Whence came the jewel ?

12 MARY STUART. [act i.

vj know *twas from an upper chamber thrown f
^nd you would bribe the gardener with your
trinkets)
A curse on woman's wiles I In spite of all
My strict precaution and my active search,
Still treasures here, still costly gems concealed !
And doubtless there are more where this lay hid.

[Advancing toioards the cabinet.
Ken. Intruder, back I here lie my lady's secrets.
Paul. Exactly what I seek. [Drawing forth 'papers.

Kennedy. Mere trifling papers ;

The amusements only of an idle pen,
To cheat the dreary tedium of a dungeon.
PAUii. In idle hours the evil mind is busy.
Ken. Those writings are in French.
Paulet. So much the worse.

That tongue betokens England's enemy.
Ken. Sketches of letters to the Queen of England.
Paul. I'll be their bearer. Ha ! what glitters here?

[He touches a secret springy and draws* out jewels
from a private drawer,
A royal diadem enriched with stones.
And studded with the fleur-de-lis of France !

[He hands it to his Assistant.
.Here, take it, Drury, lay it with t]^ rest.

[Exit Brury.
,[ And ye have found the means to hide from us
Such cosily things, and screen them, until now,
From our inquiring eyes ? }
Kennedy. 0;insolenfi

,4nd tyrant power to which we must submit !
Paul, s^he can work ill as long as she hath treasures.
For all things turn to weapons in her hands.

sc. I.] MARY STUART. 13

Kennedy {supplicating).

Of Sir I be merciful ; deprive us not

Of the last jewel that adorns our life I

'Tis mj poor Lady's only joy to view

This symbol of her former majesty;
^tCuC YflMT hands long since have robbed us of the rest.
Paul. 'Tis in safe custody ; in proper time

t^^will be restored to you with scrupulous care.
Ken. " Who that beholds these naked walls could say

That Majesty dwelt here ? /Where is the throne ?

Where the imperial canopy of state ?

Must she not set her tender foot, still used

To softest treading, on the rugged ground ?

With common pewter, which the lowliest dame

Would scorn, they furnish forth her homely table.
PAUii. Thus did she treat her spouse at Stirling once.

And pledged, the while, her paramour in gold.
Ken. Even the mirror's trifling aid withheld.
PauIi. The contemplation of her own vain image

Incites to hope, and prompts to daring deeds.
Ken. Books are denied her to divert her mind.
PATJii. The Bible still is left to mend her heart.
Ken. Even of her very lute she is deprived I
Paui.. Because she tuned it to her wanton airs.
Ken. Is this a fate for her, the gentle bom,

Who in her very cradle was a Queen ;

Who, reared in Catherine's luxurious court,

Enjoyed the fulness of each earthly pleasure ?

Was' t not enough to rob her of her power ?

Must ye then envy her its paltry tinsel ?

A noble heart in time resigns itself

To great calamities with fortitude ;

But yet is cuts one to the soul to part")

MARY STUART.

[act I.

At once with all life's little outward trappings !

Paul. These are the things that turn the human heart
To vanity, which should collect itself
In penitence ; — for a lewd, vicious lif^
Want and abasement are the only penance.

Ken. If youthful blood has led her into error,

With her own heart and God she must account : —
There is no judge in England over her.

Paul. She shall have judgment where she hath trans-
gressed.

Ken. Her narrow bonds restrain her from transgression.

Paul. |And yet she found the means to stretch her arm
Itito the world from out these narrow bonds,
And, with the torch of civil war, inflame
This realm against our Queen (whom God preserve)
And arm assassin bands. Did she not rouse
From out these walls the malefactor Parry,
And Babington, to the detested crime
Of regicide ? And did this iron grate
Prevent her from decoying to her toils
The virtuous heart of Norfolk ? Saw we not
The first best heaa in all this island fall
A sacrifice for her upon the block ?
[ The noble house of Howard fell with him. ]
And did this sad example terrify
These mad adventurers, whose rival zeal
Plunges for her into this deep abyss ?
The bloody scaffold bends beneath the weight
Of her new daily victims ; and we ne'er
Shall see an end till she herself, of all
The guiltiest, be offered up upon it.
O ! curses on the day when England took
This Helen to its hospitable arms.

I.] MARY STUART. 15

EN. f Did England then receive her hospitably ?
^ hapless Queen I who, since that fatal day
When first she set her foot within this realm,
And, as a suppliant— a fugitive —
Came to implore protection from her sister.
Has been condemned, despite the law of nations
And royal privilege, to weep away
The fairest years of youth in prison walls.
And now, when she hath suffered everything
Which in imprisonment is hard and bitter,
Is like a felon summoned to the bar.
Foully accused, and though herself a queen.
Constrained to plead for honor and for life.

Uii. She came amongst us as a murderess.

Chased by her very subjects from a throne

Which she had oft by vilest deeds disgraced.

Sworn against England's welfare came she hither

To call the times of bloody Mary back.

Betray our Church to Romish tyranny,

And sell our dear-bought liberties to France.

Say, why disdain' d she to subscribe the treaty

Of Edinborough— to resign her claim

To England s crown — ^and with one single word,

Trac'd by her pen, throw wide her prison gates ?

No : — she had rather live in vile confinement,

And see herself ill-treated, than renounce

The empty honors of her barren title.

Why acts she thus ? Because she trusts to wiles

And treacherous arts of base conspiracy,

And, hourly plotting schemes of mischief, hopes

To conquer, from her prison, all this isle.

w. You mock us, Sir, and edge your cruelty ^

With words of bitter scorn : — that she should form)

MARY STUART. [act i.

/Such projects ; shcy who *8 here immured alive,
To whom no sound of comfort, not a voice
Of friendship comes from her beloved home ;
Who hath so long no human face beheld,
Save her stem gaoler^ s unrelenting brows,
Till now, of late, in your uncourteous cousin
She sees a second keeper, and beholds
Fresh bolts and bars around her multiplied.

'JlUL. No iron grate is proof against her wiles.

How do I know these bars are not filed through ?

How that this floor, these walls, that seem so strong

Without, may not be hollow from within.

And let in felon treachery when I sleep ?

Accursed office that's intrusted to me,

To guard this cunning mother of all ill I

Fear scares me from my sleep ; and in the night

I, like a troubled spirit, roam and try

The strength of every bolt, and put to proof

Each guard's fidelity : — I see, with fear,

The dawning of each morn, which may confirm

My apprehensions : — yet, thank God, there's hop

That all my fears will soon be at an end ;

For rather would I at the gates of hell

J Stand sentinel, and guard the dev'lish host

Of damned souls, than this deceitful Queen^

-if '

Ken. Here comes the Queen.

Paulet. (AUhrist's image in her l

Pride, and all worldly lusts, within her heaA

Scene IL

The same. Enter Mary veiledy a crucifix in her hat
Kennedy {hastening towards her).

O gracious Queen |^hey tread us under foof

II.] MARY STUART. 17

No end of tyranny and base oppression ;
Each coming day heaps fresh indignities,
New sufferings on thy royal head.

[aby. Be calm —

Say, what has happened ^

Kennedy. See ! thy cabinet

Is forc'd ; — thy papers, — and tby only treasure,
Which with such pains we had securM, the last
Poor remnant of thy bridal ornaments
From France, is in his hands : — nought now remains
Of royal state— thou art indeed bereft 1

[aby. Compose yourself, my Hannah ! and believe me,
'Tis not these baubles which can make a queen : —
Basely indeed they may behave to us,
But they cannot debase us. I have learnt
To use myself to many a change in England ;
I can support this too. Sir, you have la' en
By force what I this very day designed
To have delivered to you. There's a letter
Amongst these papers for my royal sister
Of England — Pledge me, Sir, your word of honor,
To give it to her majesty's own bauds.
And not to the deceitful care of Burleigh.

Auii. I shall consider what is best to do.

[ary. Sir, you shall know its import. In this letter
I beg a favor, a great favor of her, —
That she herself will give me audience, — she I
Whom I have never seen. I have been summoned
Before a court of men, whom I can ne'er
Acknowledge as my peers — of men to whom
My heart denies its confidence. The Queen
Is of my family, my rank, my sex ;
To her alone — a sister, queen and woman —

i8 MARY STUART. [ACT I,

Can I unfold my heart.

Paclct. Too oft, raj Ladj,

Have you enlriuted both your fate and honor
To men less irorthy your esteem than these.

Maby. iJ, in the letter, beg another faror,
And surely nought but inhumanity
Can here reject my prayer. These many years
Have I, in prison, miss'd the Church's comfort,
The blessing of the sacraments ; — and she
Who robs me of my freedom and my crown,
"Who seeks my very life, can never wish
To shut the gates of heaven upon my soul.

PAni» Whene'er you wish, the Dean shall wait upon yon.

Mabt {intemtpting him iharply).

Tnlk to me not of Deans. I ask the aid

Of one of my own Church — a Catholic priest.

Paul. [That is against the publiah'd laws of England.

Maby. The laws of England are no rule for me.
I am not England's subject ; I hare ne'er
Consented to its laws, and will not bov
Before their cruel and despotic sway.
If 'tis your will, to the unlieard-of rigor
Which I have borne, to add this new oppression,
I must submit to what your power ordains ; —
Yet will I raise my voice in loud complaints ]
I also wish a public notary.
And secretaries, to prepare my will —
My sorrows and my prison's wretchedness
Prey on my life — my days, I fear, are number'd —
I fee) that I am near the gates of death.

PaDL. These serious conlempl»tions well become yon.
Mabt. And know 1, then, thai some too ready hand

JWa^j-not ab:idge tliiatedito\iav<oi:\i.olaQ-nQ-fl1 ■,

i sc II.] MARY STUART. 19

\ I would indite my will, and make disposal
^'Of what belongs to me.
\ Paui^ This liberty

May be allowed to you, for England's Queen
Will not enrich herself by plundering you.j

Maby. I have been parted from my faithful women,

And from my servants ;— tell me, where are they?
What is their fate ? I can indeed dispense
At present with their service, but my heart
Will feel rejoiced to know these faithful ones
Are not exposed to suffering and to want I

PauIj. Your servants have been cared for ; [and again
You shall behold whatever is taken from you :
And all shall be restored in proper season.^ \Qomg,

Mabt. And will you leave my presence thus again^
And not relieve my fearful anxious heart
From the fell torments of uncertainty ?
Thanks to the vigilance of your hateful spies,
I am divided from the world ;-f no voice
Can reach me thronghtheseprisbn-walls^— my fate
Lies in the hands of those who wish my ruin,
fmonth of dread suspense has pass'd already.
Since when the forty high commissioners
Surprised me in this castle, and erected,
With most unseemly haste, their dread tribunal ;
They forced me, stunned, amaz'd, and unprepared.
Without an advocate, from memory.
Before their unexampled court, to answer
Their weighty charges artfully arranged.
■:— They came like ghosts — like ghosts they disap*

peared,
And since that day all mouths are closed to me.
In vain I seek to construe from your looks^i

20 MARY STUART. [act i.

s353iich hath prevailed — my cause's innocence
And my friends* zeal — or my foes* cursed counafiiO

! break this silence — let me know the worst —
What I have still to fear, and what to hope.

PAuii. Close your accounts with heaven.
Mary. From heaven I hope

For mercy, Sir ; — and from my earthly judges

1 hope, and still expect, the strictest justice.
Pattl. Justice, depend upon it, wUl be done you.
Mart. Is the suit ended. Sir?

Paulet. I cannot tell.

Mary. Am I condemned ?

Paulet. I cannot answer. Lady.

Mary. ([Sir, a good work fears not the light of day.

Paul. The day will shine upon it, doubt it not.S

Mary. Despatch is here the fashion. Is it meSTht

The murderer shall surprise me, like the judges?

Paul. Still entertain that thought, and he will find you
Better prepared to meet your fate than they did.

Mary (Jafter a pause),

\Sir, nothing can surprise me which a court.
Inspired by Burleigh's hate and Hatton's zeal,
Howe'er unjust, may venture to pronounce-; —
But I have yet to learn how far the Queen
Will dare in execution of the sentence^

Paul. The sovereigns of England have no'fear

But for their conscience and their parliament.
What justice hath decreed, her fearless hand
Will execute before th* assembled world.

Scene III.
The same. Mortimer entersy and without paying attention to

the Queen, addresses Paulet.
MoRT. Uncle, you're sought iox.

. IV.] MARY STUART. 21

[fl6 retires in the same manner. The Queen re-
marks itf and turns Unoards Paulet, who is
about to follow him.
ABY. Sir, one favor more : —

If you have aught to say to me — from you
I can bear much — I reverence your grey hairs —
But cannot bear that young man^s insolence ; —
Spare me in future his unmanner*d rudeness.
iUL. I prize him most for that which makes you hate
him : —
He is not, truly, one of those poor fools
Who melt before a woman's treacherous tears.
He has seen much — has been to Rheims and Paris,
And brings us back his true old English heart.
Lady, your cunning arts are lost on him. \^Exit.

Scene IV.
Maby, Kennedy.

EN. And dares the ruffian venture to your face

Such language 1—0, 'tis hard — 'tis past endurance.

ARY {lost in reflection).

In the fair moments of our former splendor
We lent to flatt'rers a too willing ear ; —
It is but just, good Hannah, we should now
Be forced to hear the bitter voice of censure.

EN. So downcast, so depressed, my dearest Lady I
rfou, who before so gay, so full of hope.
Were used to comfort me in my distress ?
More gracious were the task to check your mirth
Than chide your heavy sadness.)

;aby. ^"^ell I know him—

It is the bleeding Damley's royal shade,
Bising in anger from his darksome ^tv^^ \

22 MARY STUART. T^^::::

And never will he make his peace with me
Until the measure of my woes be full.

Ken. What thoughts are these —

Ma»y. Thou may'st forget it, Hanna/

But I*ve a faithful mem'ry — 'tis this day
Another wretched anniversary
Of that regretted, that unhappy deed —
Which I must celebrate with fast and penance.

Ken. Dismiss at length in peace this evil spirit.
The penitence of many a heavy year,
Of many a sufifering, has atoned the deed :
The Church, which holds the key of absolution.
Pardons the crime, and heav*n itself s appeased.

Mary. This long-atoned crime arises fresh

And bleeding from its lightly-cover'd grave^
My husband's restless spirit seeks revenge —
Ko sacred bell can exorcise, no host
In priestly hands dismiss it to his tomb.

Ken. You did not murder him — 'twas done by others.

Mary. But it was known to me ;— I suffered it,

And lured him with my smiles to death's embrace.

Ken. Your youth extenuates your guilt. You were
Of tender years.

Mary. So tender, yet I drew

This heavy guilt upon my youthful head.

Ken. «Q[ou were provok'd by direst injuries.

And by the rude presumption of the man.
Whom out of darkness, like the hand of heav'n,
Your love drew forth, and raised above all others ;
Whom through your bridal chamber you conducted
Up to your throne, and with your lovely self,
And your hereditary crown, d\sV\Tv^\x\sVv.'d*. —
[Your work was his existence, and -^owx ^x^.^^^

IV.] MARY STUART. 23

/Bedew' d him like the gentle rains of j^^av* jiJ|
^ Could he forget that his so splendid lot
Was the creation of your generous love?
Yet did he, worthless as he was, forget it.
With base suspicions, and with brutal manners.
He wearied your affections, and became
An object to you of deserv'd disgust : —
Th* illusion, which till now had overcast
Your judgment, vanish'd ; angrily you fled
His foul embrace, and gave him up to scorn.
And did he seek again to win your love ?
Your favor ? Did he e'er implore your pardon ?
Or fall in deep repentance at your feet ?
No ; the base wretch defied you : — he, who was
Your bounty's creature, wish'd to play your king,
[And stroye, through fear, to force your inclination.]
Before your eyes he had your fav'rite singer.
Poor Eizzio, murder' d ; you did but avenge
With blood, the bloody deed

LBY. And bloodily,

I fear, too soon 'twill be aveng'd on me : —
You seek to comfort me, and you condemning

CN. You were, when you consented to this deed,
No more yourself— belong' d not to yourself —
^he madness of a frantic love possess' d you.
And bound you to a terrible seducer.
The wretched Bothwell. That despotic man
Kul'd you with shameful, overbearing will.
And with his philters Apd his hellish arts
Inflamed your passions^ ,

LBY. *'*' vAll the arts he used ^..

Were man's superior strength, and woman's wes^«
ness.

24 MARY STUART. [act i. J

Ken. { No, no, I say. The most pernicious spirits
^ Of hell he must have summoned to his aid,
To cast this mist before your waking senses.
Your ear no more was open to the voice
Of friendly warning, and your eyes were shut
To decency ; soft female bashfulness
Deserted you ; those cheeks, which were before
The seat of virtuous blushing modesty,
Glow'd with the flames of unrestrained desire ;
You cast away the veil of secrecy.
And the flagitious daring of the man
O'ercame your natural coyness : you exposed
Your shame, ninblushingjy, to public gaze :
You let the murderer, whom the people followed
With curses, through the streets of Edinburgh,
Before you bear the royal sword of Scotland
In triumph. You begirt your parliament
With armed bands ; and by this shameless farce.
There, in the very temple of great Justice,
You forc'd the judges of the land to clear
The murderer of his guilt. You went still further—
OGodI

Mary. Conclude — nay, pause not — say for this

I gave my hand in marriage at the altar.

Ken. O let an everlasting silence veil

That dreadful deed : the heart revolts at it,

A crime to stain the darkest criminal I

Yet you are no such lost one, that I know.

I nurs'd your youth myself — your heart is fram'd

For tender softness : His alive to shame,

And all your fault is thoughtless levity.

Yes, I repeat it, there are evil spirits.

Who sudden fix in man's unguarded breast

&E2

B£o:

Ma
Mo
Mj

sc. v.] MARY STUART. 25

(1}

Their fatal residence, and there delight
1*0 act their dev'lish deeds ; then hurry hack
Unto their native hell, and leave behind
Kemorse and horror in the poison' d bosom.
Since this misdeed, which blackens thus your life,
You have done nothing ill ; your conduct has
Been pure ; myself can witness your amendment.
Take courage, then ; with your own heart make

peace.
Whatever cause you have for penitence,
You are not guilty here. Nor England's Queen,.
Nor England's parliament can be your judge.
Here might oppresses you : you may present
Yourself before this self-created^urt
With all the fortitude of innocence.
Mary. I hear a step. ^"^

Kennedy. It is the nephew — In.

Scene V.

The same. Enter Mobtimeb, approaching catUiously,

Mortimer {to Kennedy).

Step to the door, and keep a careful watch,
I have important business with the Queen.
Mary {with dignity).

I charge thee, Hannah, go not hence — remain.
MoRT. Fear not, my gracious Lady — learn to know me.

[JTe gives her a card,
Mary. \_She examines it, and starts back astonished,

Heav'nsI What is this?
Mortimer (to Kennedy). Retire, good Kennedy ;

See that my uncle comes not unawares.
Mary {to Kennedy, who hesitatesy and looks at the Queen in-

quiringly),
2

26 MARY STUART. [acTi.

Go in ; do as he bids you.

[Kennedy retires with signs of wonder.

Scene VI.
Mary, Mortimer.

Maby. From my uncle

In France — the worthy Cardinal of Lorrain?

[_She reojds.
"Confide in Mortimer, who brings you this ;
You have no truer, firmer friend in England.'*

[Looking at him with aalonishmenL
Can I believe it ? Is there no delusion
To cheat my senses ? Do I find a friend
So near, when I conceiv'd myself abandon' d
By the whole? world ? And find that friend in you,
The nephew of my gaoler, whom I thought
My most in vet' rate enemy ?

Mortimer {kneeling), O pardon.

My gracious Liege, for the detested mask.
Which it has cost me pain enough to wear ;
Yet through such means alone have I the pow'r
To see you, and to bring you help and rescue.

Mary. Arise, Sir ; you astonish me ; I cannot
So suddenly emerge from the abyss
Of wretchedness to hope : let me conceive
This happiness, that I may credit it.

MoRT. Our time is brief : each moment I expect
My uncle, whom a hated man attends :
Hear, then, before his terrible commission
Surprises you, how Heav'n prepares your resciM

Mary. You come, in token of its wondrous pow'r.

MoRT. Allow me of myself to speak.

Mary. Say on.

sc. VI.] MARY STUART. 27

MoBT. I scarce, my Liege, had numbered twenty years,
Train' d in the path of strictest discipline.
And nurs'd in deadliest hate to Papacy,
When, led by irresistible desire
For foreign travel, I resolv'd to leave
My country and its puritanic faith
Far, far behind me : soon with rapid speed
I flew through France, and bent my eager course
On to the plains of far-famed Italy.
'Twas then the time of the great Jubilee,
And crowds of palmers filPd the public roads ;
Each image was adorn' d with garlands ; 'twas
As if all human-kind were wand' ring forth
In pilgrimage towards the heav'nly kingdom.
The tide of the believing multitude
Bore me, too, onward, with resistless force,
Into the streets of Rome. \J^ What was my wonder,
As the magnificence of stately columns
Bush'd on my sight I The vast triumphal arches,
The Colosseum's grandeur, with amazement
Struck my admiring senses ; the sublime
Creative spirit held my soul a prisoner
In the fair world of wonders it had fram'd.
I ne'er had felt the power of art till now.
The Church that rear'd me hates the charms of sense;
It tolerates no image, it adores
But the unseen, the incorporeal word.
What were my feelings, then, as I approach'd
The threshold of the churches, and within
Heard heav'nly music floating in the air :
While from the walls and high-wrought roofs there

stream'd
Czowds of celestial forms in endless train —

28 MARY STUART. [act i.

When the Most High, Most Glorious, pervaded

My captivated sense in real presence I

And when I saw the great and godlike visions.

The Salutation, the Nativity,

The Holy Mother, and the Trinity's

Descent, the luminous Transfiguration,

And last the holy Pontiff, clad in all

The glory of his office, bless the people, —

O ! what is all the pomp of gold and jewels

With which the kings of earth adorn themselves I

He is alone surrounded by the Godhead ;

His mansion is in truth an heav'nly kingdom.

For not of earthly moulding are these forms I

Mary. spare me. Sir I No further. Spread no more
Life's verdant carpet out before my eyes.
Bemember I am wretched, and a prisoner.

MORT. I was a prisoner, too, my Queen ; but swift
My prison-gates flew open, when at once
My spirit felt its liberty, and hail'd
The smiling dawn of life. I learn' d to burst
Each narrow prejudice of education.
To crown my brows with never-fading wreaths,
And mix my joy with the rejoicing crowd.
Full many noble Scots, who saw my zeal,
Encourag'd me, and with the gallant French
They kindly led me to your princely uncle.
The Cardinal of Guise. O what a man 1
How firm, how clear, how manly, and how grea
Bom to control the human mind at will I
The very model of a royal priest ;
A ruler of the Church without an equal 1

Mary. You've seen him then, — the much lov'd, h'
man.

::. VT.] MARY STUART. 29

Who was the guardian of my tender years !

speak of him I Does he remember me ?
Does fortune favor him ? And prospers still
His life ? And does he still majestic stand,
A very rock and pillar of the Church ?

[ORT. The holy man descended from his height,

And deign' d to teach me the important creed
Of the true Church, and dissipate my doubts.
He show'd me how the glimm'ring light of reason
Serves but to lead us to eternal error :
That what the heart is caU'd on to believe,
The eye must see : that he who rules the Church
Must needs be visible ; and that the Spirit
Of truth inspired the Councils of the Fathers.
How vanished, then, the fond imaginings
And weak conceptions of my childish soul
Before his conquering judgment and the soft
Persuasion of his tongue ! So I return' d
Back to the bosom of the holy Church,
And at his feet abjur'd my heresies^

Iaby. Then of those happy thousands, you are one
Whom he, with his celestial eloquence,
Like the immortal preacher of the mount.
Has turn'd, and led to everlasting joy !

lOBT. The duties of his oflSce call'd him soon

To France, and I was sent by him to Eheims,
Where, by the Jesuits' anxious labor, priests
Are train' d to preach our holy faith in England.
There, 'lUongst the Scots, I found the noble Morgan
And your true Lesley, Boss's learned bishop,
Who pass in France their joyless days of exile.

1 join'd with heartfelt zeal these worthy men,
And fortified my faith. As I one day ^ , ^

MARY STUART. [act i.

BoamM through the Bishop's dwelling, I was struck

With a fair female portrait. It was full

Of touching, wond'rous charms ; with magic might

It mov'd my inmost soul, and there I stood

Speechless, and overmastered by my feelings.

" Well,'* cried the Bishop, **may you linger thus

In deep emotion near this lovely face I

For the most beautiful of womankind

Is also matchless in calamity.

She is a prisoner for our holy faith.

And in your native land, alas ! she suffers."

[Maby 18 in great agitation. — He patLsea,

Mary. Excellent man ! All is not lost, indeed.

While such a friend remains in my misfortunes I

MoBT. Then he began, with moving eloquence.

To paint the sufferings of your martyrdom ;
He showed me, then, your lofty pedigree.
And your descent from Tudor' s royal House.
He prov'd to me that you alone have right
To reign in England, not this upstart Queen,
The base-born fruit of an adulterous bed,
W^hom Henry's self rejected as a bastard.
[He from my eyes remov'd delusion's mist,
And taught me to lament you as a victim.
To honor you as my true Queen, whom I,
Deceiv'd, like thousands of my noble fellows,
Had ever hated as my country's foe.]
I would not trust his evidence alone ;
I question' d learned doctors ; I consulted
The most authentic books of heraldry ;
And every man of knowledge, whom I ask'd,
Confirm' d to me your claim's validity.
And DOW I know that your undoubted right

MARY STUART. 31

To England's throne has been your only wrongs
This realm is justly yours by heritage.
In which you innocently pine as prisoner.
SiABY. O this unhappy right ! — 'tis this alone
Which is the source of all my sufferings.
Just at this time the tidings reached my ears
Of your removal from old Talbot's charge.
And your committal to my uncle's care.
It seem'd to me that this disposal mark'd
The wondrous, outstretch' d hand of fav'ring

Heaven :
It seem'd to be a loud decree of fate,
That it had chosen me to rescue you.
My friends concur with me ; the Cardinal
Bestows on me his counsel and his blessing.
And tutors me in the hard task of feigning.
The plan in haste digested, I commenced
My journey homewards, and ten days ago
On England's shores I landed. — Oh, my Queen,

[He pavses.
I saw then not your picture, but yourself —
Oh, what a treasure do these walls enclose !
No prison this, but the abode of gods.
More splendid far than England's royal Court.
Happy, thrice happy he whose envied lot
Permits to breathe the selfsame air with you I
It is a prudent policy in her
To bury you so deep I All England's youth
Would rise at once in general mutiny.
And not a sword lie quiet in its sheath :
Kebellion would uprear its giant head
Through all this peaceful isle, if Britons once
Beheld their captive Queen.

32 MARY STUART. [act i.

Maby. 'Twere well with her,

If ev'ry Briton saw her with your eyes I

MoBT. Were each, like me, a witness of your wrongs,
Your meekness, and the noble fortitude
With which you suffer these indignities —
Would you not then emerge from all these trials
Like a true Queen ? Your prison's infamy,
Hath it despoil'd your beauty of its charms?
You are depriv'd of all that graces life.
Yet round you life and light eternal beam.
Ne'er on this threshold can I set my foot.
That my poor heart with anguish is not torn.
Not ravish'd with delight at gazing on you.
Yet fearfully the fatal time draws near.
And danger hourly growing presses on.
I can delay no longer — can no more
Conceal the dreadful news.

Mary. My sentence, then I

Is it pronounced ? Speak freely — I can bear It.

MoBT. It is pronounc'd ! The two and forty judges

Have giv'n the verdict, ** guilty ;" and the Houses

Of Lords and Commons, with the citizens

Of London, eagerly and urgently

Demand the execulioQ pf the sentence :^-

The Queen alone still craftily delays.

That she may be constrained to yield, but not

From feelings of humanity or mercy.

Maby {collected).

Sir, I am not surprised nor terrified.
I have been long prepar'd for such a message.
Too well I know my judges. After all
Their cruel treatment, I can well conceive
They dare not now restore my liberty.

sc. VI.] MARY STUART. . 33

I know their aim : they mean to keep me here
In everlasting bondage, and to bury,
In the sepulchral darkness of my prison,
My vengeance with me, and my rightful claims.

MoBT. O I no, my gracious Queen ; — they stop not there I
Oppression will not be content to do
Its work by halves : — as long as e'er you live
Distrust and fear will haunt the English Queen.
No dungeon can inter you deep enough ;
Your death alone can make her throne secure.

Maby. Will she then dare, regardless of the shame,
Lay my crown'd head upon the fatal block ?

MoBT. She will most surely dare it, doubt it not.

Maby. And can she thus roll in the very dust
Her own and ev'ry monarch's majesty ?

MoBT. She thinks on nothing now put present danger.
Nor looks to that which is so far removed.

Maby. And fears she not the dread revenge of France ?

MoBT. With France she makes an everlasting peace.

And gives to Anjou's Duke her throne and hand.

Maby. Will not the King of Spain rise up in arms?

MoBT. She fears not a collected world in arms,
If with her people she remain at peace.

Maby. Were this a spectacle for British eyes ?

Mobt. This land, my Queen, has in these latter days
Seen many a royal woman from the throne
Descend and mount the scaffold : — her own mother
And Cath'rine Howard trod this fatal path.
And was not Lady Grey a crowned head ?

Maby (afUr a pavse).

No, Mortimer, vain fears have blinded you ;
'Tis but the honest care of your true heart
Which conjures up these empty apprehensions.

MARY STUART. [act i

It is not, Sir, the Bcafibld that I fear :

There are so many still and secret means

By which her Majesty of England may

Set all my claims to rest. O, trust me, ere

An executioner is found for me,

Assassins will be hir'd to do their work.

'Tis that which makes me tremble, Mortimer :

I never lift the goblet to my lips

Without an inward shuddering lest the draught

May have been mingled by my sister's love.

MoBT. No : — neither open nor disguised murder

Shall e'er prevail against you : — fear no more ;
All is preparM ; twelve nobles of the land
Are my confederates, and have pledg d to-day,
Upon the Sacrament, their faith to free you.
With dauntless arm, from this captivity.
> Count Aubespine, the French Ambassador,
Knows of our plot, and offers his assistance :
'Tis in his palace that we hold our meetings.

Maby. You make me tremble. Sir, but not for joy ;
An evil boding penetrates my heart.
Know you, then, what you risk? Are you

scar'd
By Babington and Tichbum's bloody heads.
Set up as warnings upon London's bridge ?
Nor by the ruin of those many victims
Who have in such attempts found certain def
And only made my chains the heavier ?
Fly hence, deluded, most unhappy youth !
Fly, if there yet be time for you, before
That crafty spy. Lord Burleigh, track your
And mix his traitors in your secret plots.
Fly hence ; — as yet, success hath never w

sc. VI.] MARY STUART. 35

On Mary Stuart's champions.

Mortimer. I'm not scar'd

By Babington and Tichburn's bloody heads,
Set up as warnings upon London's bridge,
Nor by the ruin of those many victims
Who have in such attempts found certain death :
They also found therein immortal honor,
And death, in rescuing you, is dearest bliss.

Maby. It is vain : nor force nor guile can save me: —
My enemies are watchful, and the pow'r
Is in their hands. It is not Paulet only
And his dependent host ; all England guards
My prison gates ; Elizabeth's free will
Alone can open them.

Mortimer. Expect not that.

Mary. One man alone on earth can open them.

MoRT. O I let me know his name I

Mary. Lord Leicester.

Mortimer. He I

[^Starts back in wonder.
The Earl of Leicester ! Your most bloody foe.
The fav'rite of Elizabeth I — through him —

Mary. If I am to be sav'd at all, 'twill be

Through him, and him alone. Go to him. Sir ;

Freely confide in him : and, as a proof

You come from me, present this paper to him.

[/S%6 takes a paper from her bosom ; Mortimer
draiDs baoky and hesitates to take it.
It doth contain my portrait :— take it. Sir ;
I've borne it long about me : but your uncle's
Close watchfulness has cut me off from all
Ck)mmunication with him ; — you were sent
By my good angel. [ITe takes it

MARY STUART. [act I.

;Tno:R. O, my Queen ! explain

This mystery.
BY. Lord Leicester will resolve it.

Confide in him, and he'll confide in you.
Who comes ?
ENNEDV {entering hastily).

'Tis Paulet ; and he brings with him
A nobleman from court '

Mortimer. It is Lord Burleigh.

Collect yourself, my Queen, and strive to hear
The news he brings with equanimity.

[fTe retires through a side door^ and Kennedy
follows him.

Scene VIL

Erder Lord Burleigh, and Paulet.

Paulet {to Mary).

You wish'd, to-day, assurance of your fate ;

My Lord of Burleigh brings it to you now.

Hear it with resignation, as beseems you.
Mary. I hope with dignity, as it becomes

My innocence, and my exalted station.
Bur. I come deputed from the court of justice.
Mary. Lord Burleigh lends that court his willing ton/

Which was already guided by his spirit.
Paul. You speak as if no stranger to the sentence.
Mary. Lord Burleigh brings it ; therefore do I know
Paul. Alt would become you better. Lady Stuart,

To listen less to hatred.
Mary. I but name

My enemy : I said not that I hate him.jj

But to the matter, Sir.

:. VII.] MARY STUART. 37

DBX.EIGH. You have acknowledged

The jurisdiction of the two-and-forty— *

[aky. ^y Lord, excuse me, if I am obliged

Bo soon to interrupt you. I acknowledged.
Say you, the competence of the commissiol^J
I never have acknowledged it, my Lord^j*^

fow could I so ? I could not give away
y own prerogative, th' intrusted rights
Of my own people, the inheritance
Of my own son, and ev'ry monarch's hon^
[The very laws of England say I could notj
It is enacted by the English laws
That ev'ry one who stands arraign' d of crime
Shall plead before a jury of his equals :
Who is my equal in this high commission ?
Kings only are my peers.

UBiiEiOH. ^But yet you heard

The points of accusation, ^ISwer' d them
Before the court

[ary. 'Tis true, I was deceiv'd

By Hatton's crafty counsel : — he advis'd me.
For my own honor, and in confidence
In my good cause, and my most strong defence.
To listen to the points of accusation.
And prove their falsehood. Thisj my Lord, I did
From personal respect for the lords' names.
Not their usurped charge, which I disclalA.

UB. Acknowledge you the court, or not, th^Tls
Only a point of mere formality.
Which cannot here arrest the course of justice.
You breathe the air of England ; you enjoy
The law's protection, and its benefits ;
You therefore are its subject.

38 MARY STUART. [act i.

Maky. Sir, I breathe

The air within an English-prisoaSwalls :—
Is that to live in England ; to enjoy
Protection from its laws ? I scarcely know
And never have I pledged my faith to keep them.
I am no member of this realm ; I am
An independent, and a foreign Queen.

Bur. I^And do you think that the mere name of Queen
Can serVe you as a charter to foment
In other countries, with impunity,
This bloody discord? Where would be the state's
Security, if the stern sword of justice
Could not as freely smite the guilty brow
Of the imperial stranger as the beggar's?

Maby. I do not wish to be exempt from judgment,
It is the judges only I disclaim.

Bur. The judges? How now, Madam I Are they, then,
Base wretches, snatched at hazard from the crowd ;
Vile wranglers, that make sale of truth and justice?
Oppression's willing hirelings, and its tools?
Are they not all the foremost of this land,
Too independent ^o be else than honest,
And too exalted not to soar above
The fear of Kings or base servility ?
Are they not those who rule a generous people
In liberty and justice ; men whase names
I need but mention to dispel each doubt.
Each mean suspicion which is rais'd against them?
Stands not the rev' rend Primate at their head,
The pious shepherd of his faithful people,
The learned Talbot, Keeper of the Seals,
And Howard, who commands our conquering fleets?
Say, then, could England's sovereign do mofe^

JC. VII.] MARY STUART. 39

/Than, out of all the monarchy, elect
xE'e very noblest, and appoint them judges
In this great suit ? And were it probable
That party hatred could corrupt (me heart,
Can forty chosen men unite to speak
A sentence just as passion gives command ?
^RY (q/i5er a short pawte),

I am struck dumb by that tongue's eloquence,

Which ever was so ominous to me.

And how shall I, a weak, untutored woman,

Cope with so subtle, learn' d an orator ? *■

Yes, truly, were these lords as you describe them,

I must be mute ; my cause were lost indeed,

Beyond all hope, if they pronounced me guilty.

But, Sir, these names, which you are pleas' d to

praise.
These very men, whose weight you think will crush

me,
I see performing, in the history
Of these dominions, very different parts :
I see this high nobility of England,
This grave majestic senate of the realm,
Like to an eastern monarch's vilest slaves,
Flatter my uncle Henry's sultan fancies :
I see this noble rev' rend House of Lords,
Yenal alike with the corrupted Commons,
Make statutes and annul them, ratify
A marriage and dissolve it, as the voice
Of power commands : to-day it disinherits,
And brands the royal daughters of the realm
With the vile name of bastards, and to-morrow
Crowns them as queens, and leads them to theV
throne. - . ..

40 MARY STUART. [act i.

J see them in four reigns, with pliant conscience,
four times abjure their faith ; renounce the Pope
With Henry, yet retain the old belief ;
Iteform themselves with Edward ; hear the mass
Again with Mary ; with Elizabeth,
Who governs now, reform themselves again.

Bub. You say you are not vers'd in England's laws ;
You seem well read, methinks, in her disasters.

Mary. And these men are my judges?

[^As Lord BuBiiEion seems to wish to speak

My Lord Treasurer,
Tow'rds ypu I will be just, be you but just
To me. — *Tis said that you consult with zeal
The good of England, and of England's Queen ;
Are honest, watchful, indefatigable :
I will believe it. Not your private ends,
Your Sovereign and your country's weal alone,
Inspire your counsels and direct your deeds.
Therefore, my noble Lord, you should the more
Distrust your heart ; should see that you mistake no
The welfare of the government fpr justice.
I do not doubt, besides yourself, there are
Among my judges many upright men :
But they are Protestants, are eager all
For England's quiet, and they sit in judgment
On me, the Queen of Scotland, and the Papist.
It is an ancient saying that the Scots
And English to each other are unjust ;
And hence the rightful custom that a Scot
Against an Englishman, or Englishman
Against a Scot, cannot be heard in judgment.
Necessity prescrib'd this cautious law ;
Deep policy oft lies in ancient customs A

=- Til.] MARY STUART. 41

(My Lord, we must respect them. Nature cast
into the ocean these two fierj nations
Upon this plank, and she divided it
Unequally, and bade them fight for it
The narrow bed of Tweed alone divides
These daring spirits ; often hath the blood
Of the contending parties dyed its waves.
Threatening, and sword in hand, these thousand

years,
From both its banks they watch their rival's

motions,
Most vigilant and true confederates,
With ev'ry en' my of the neighbor state.
No foe oppresses England, but the Scot
Becomes his firm ally ; no civil war
Inflames the towns of Scotland, but the English
Add fuel to the fire : this raging hate
Will never be extinguished till, at last.
One parliament in concord shall unite them.
One common sceptre rule throughout the isle.
^UB. And from a Stuart, then, should England hope
This happiness ?

O ! why should I deny it ?
Yes, I confess, I cherish'd the fond hope,
I thought myself the happy instrument
To join in freedom, 'neath the olive's shade,
Two gen'rous realms in lasting happiness I
I little thought I should become the victim
Of their old hate, their long-liv'd jealousy,
And the sad flames of that unhappy strife
I hop'd at last to smother, and forever :
And, as my ancestor, great Eichmond, join'
The rival roses after bloody contest,

►in'd)

42 MARY STUART. [act l

•V"

(To join in peace the Scotch and English crowns.

Bur. jS.n evil way you took to this good end,

To set the realm on fire, and through the flames
Of civil war to strive to mount the throne.

Mary. I wished not that : — I wish'd it not, by Heaven I

When did I strive at that ?^Wh9re are your proofs^t

Bur. I came not hither to disphle ; y6ur cause ^

Is no more subject to a war of w:ords.
The great majority of forty voices
Hath found that you have contravened the law
Last year enacted, and have now incurr d
Its penalty. \_Producing the verdicL

Mary. Upon this statute, then,

My Lord, is built the verdict of my judges ?

Burleigh {reading).

Last year it was enacted, " If a plot

Henceforth should rise in England, in the name

Or for the benefit of any claimant

To England* 8 crown, that justice should be done

On such pretender, and the guilty party

Be prosecuted unto death." Now, since f

It has been proved -=-rrV*^ '"'"' • . ^ '

Mary. Ql>rd Burleigh, I can well

Imagine that a law expressly aimM
At me, and fram'd to compass my destruction.
May to my prejudice be used. O ! woe
To the unhappy victim, when the tongue
That frames the law shall execute the sentence.
Can you deny it. Sir, that this same statute
Was made for my destruction, and nought else?
Bur. It should have acted as a warning to you :
By your imprudence it became a snare.
You saw the precipice which yawned before yoi ;

k^ sc. VII.] MARY STUART. 43

^Stt truly wam*d, you plung'd into the de^
With Babington, the traitor, and his bands
i Of murderous companions Cfwe you leagued.

[ You knew of aTT^aqd from your prison led

Their treasonous plottings with a deep-laid plan.
I Maby. "When did I that, my Lord ? Let them produce
! The documents.

Burleigh. » You have already seen them :

I ^hey were, before the court, presented to y^ .

Mart. Mere copies written by another hand ; """^
Show me the proof that they were dictated
By me, that they proceeded from my lips,
And in those very terms in which you read them.
Bub. Before his execution, Babington

Confessed they were the same which he received.
Mabt. Why was he in his lifetime not produced

Before my face ? Why was he then despatched
So quickly that he could not be confronted
__V^With her whom he accused?
BuBiiEiGk. Besides, my Lady,

Your secretaries, Curl and Nau, declare
On oath they are the very selfsame letters
Which, from your lips, they faithfully transcribed.
Maby. And on my menials' testimony, then,

I am condemned ; upon the word of those
Who have betray'd me, me^ their rightful Queen,
Who in that very 'moment when they came
As witnesses against me broke their faith I
Bub. (^ou said yourself you held your countryman

To be an upright, conscientious man.
Maby. I thought him such ; but His the hour 6f danger
Alone which tries the virtue of a man.
[He ever was an honest man, but weak"?

44 MARY STUART. [act i.

. In understanding ; and his subtle comrade,
^- Whose faith, observe, I never answered for,
Might easily seduce him to write down
More than he should ; ] the rack may have com-
pell'd him
' To say and to confess more than he knew.
He hop'd to save himself by this false witness,
And thought it could not injure me — a Queen.

Bur. The oath he swore was free and unconstrain'd.

Maby. But not before my face I How now, my Lord ?
The witnesses you name are still alive ;
Let them appear against me, face to face.
And there repeat what they have testified I
Why am I, then, denied that privilege.
That right, which e*en the murderer enjoys?
I know from Talbot's mouth, my former keeper,
That in this reign a statute has been pass'd
Which orders that the plaintiff be confronted
With the defendant ; is it so, good Paulet ?
I e'er have known you as an honest man.
Now prove it to me ; tell me, on your conscience,
If such a law exist, or not, in England ?

Paul. Madam, there does : that is the law in England.
I must declare the truth.

Mary. Well then, my Lord,

If I am treated by the law of England
So hardly, when that law oppresses me,
Say, why avoid this selfsame country's law
When 'tis for my advantage ? Answer me ;
Why was not Babington confronted with me ?
Why not my servants, who are both alive ?

Bur. Be not so hasty, Lady ; 'tis not only -.
Your plot with Babington J

i sc. VII.] MARY STUART. 45

Maky. J 'Tis that alone

Which arms the law against me ; that alone

f From which I^m calPd upon to clear myself.
Stick to the point, my Lord ; evade i t^not^
Btjb. It has been prov'd that you have corresponded
With the Ambassador of Spain, Mendoza

^ -Mary. Stick to the point, my Lord.

Burleigh. That you have form'd

Conspiracies to overturn the fix'd
Beligion of the realm ; that you have call'd
Into this kingdom foreign pow'rs, and rous'd
All kings in Europe to a war with England.

[ Mary. And were it so, my Lord — though I deny it —
But e'en suppose it were so : I am kept
Imprisoned here against all laws of nations.
I came not into England sword in hand ;
I came a suppliant ; and at the hands
Of my imperial kinswoman I claim' d
The sacred rights of hospitality,
When power seized upon me, and prepared
To rivet fetters, where I hopM protection.
Say, is my conscience bound, then, to this realm ?
What are the duties that I owe to England ?
I should but exercise a sacred right,
Derived from sad necessity, if I
Warr*d with these bonds, encountered might with

might,
Boused and incited ev'ry state in Europe,
For my protection, to unite in arms
Whatever in a rightful war is j ust
And loyal, 'tis my right to exercise :
Murder alone, the secret, bloody deed.
My conscience and my pride alike forbid.

5 MARY STUART. [act i.

Murder would stain lae, would dishonor me :

Dishonor me, my Lord ! — but not condemn me,

Nor subject me to England's courts of law : .1 ^^^

For 'tis not justice, but mere violence.

Which is the question 'tween myself and England.

UBLEIGH (significaTidy).

Talk not, my Lady, of the dreadful right
Of pow*r : 'tis seldom on the pris'ner's side.

[aby. I am the weak : she is the mighty one :

'Tis well, my Lord ; let her, then, use her pow'r ;

Let her destroy me : let me bleed, that she

May live secure : but let her then confess

That she hath exercised her pow' r alone,

And not contaminate the name of justice.

Let her not borrow from the laws the sword

To rid her of her hated enemy :

Let her not clothe in this religious garb

The bloody daring of licentious might :

Let not these juggling tricks deceive the world. —

[^Returning the senf^ence.
Though she may murder me, she cannot judge me : —
Let her no longer strive to join the fruits
Of vice with virtue's fair and angel show ;
But let her dare to seem the thing she is. [^ExU,

Scene VIII.
^ Burleigh, Paulet.

UR. 1 She scorns us, she defies us 1 will defy us,

Ev'n at the scaffold's foot. This haughty heart
Is not to be subdued. Say, did the sentence '
Surprise her? Did you see her shed one tear/
Or even change her color? She disdains
To make appeal to our compassion. Well

:. VIII. 1 ' MARY STUART. 47 ..

She knows the wavering mind of^ngland's Queen, y \
Our apprehensions make her bold."* y«K

AXTLET. f My Lord v y"

Take the pretext away which buoys it up, ^^^^

And you shall see this proud defiance fail '

That very moment. I must say, my Lord,
Irregularities have been allowed
In these proceedings ; Babington and Ballard
Should have been brought, with her two secretaries.
Before her, face to face.

IXJRLEIGH. No, Paulet, no I

That was not to be risked ; her influence
Upon the human heart is too supreme ;
Too strong the female empire of her tears.
Her secretary, Curl, if brought before her,
And calPd upon to speak the weighty word
On which her life depends, would straight shrink

back,
And fearfully revoke his own confession.

*AUii. Then England's enemies will fill the world
With evil rumors ; and the formal pomp
Of these proceedings, to the minds of all.
Will only signalize an act of outrage.

JuB. That is the greatest torment of our Queen,

[That she can never 'scape the blame. O God^
Had but this lovely mischief died before ^^«*^
She set her faithless foot on English ground I

*A.XJJj. Amen, say 1 1

>aiiii£iOH. Had sickness but consumed her I

*AUL. (^ngland had been secur'd from much misfortune,

5uE. And yet, if she had died in nature's cours^

-The world would still have call'd us murderers.

'aui^ ?Tia true, the world think, deai^Wfe ol wa^

48 MARY STUART. [act i.

fcrhate'er it list.

Burleigh. Yet could it not be proved?

And it would make less noise.

Paulet. Why let it make

What noise it may. It is not clam' rous blame,
'Tis righteous censure only, which can wound.

Bur. We know that holy justice cannot 'scape
The voice of censure ; and the public cry
Is ever on the side of the unhappy :
Envy pursues the laurell'd conquero*?!
The sword of iustice which adorns tTie man
Is hateful inifi^ woman's hand ; the world
Will give no credit to a woman's justice,
If woman be the victim. Vain that we.
The judges, spoke what conscience dictated ;
She has the royal privilege of mercy ;
She must exert it : 'twere not to be borne,
Should she let justice take its full career.

Paul. And therefore

Burleigh. Therefore should she live ? O I no,

She must not live ; it must not be. 'Tis this,
Ev'n this, my friend, which so disturbs the Queen,

f^Tid scares all slumber from her couch ; I read
er soul's distracting contest in her eyes ;
She fears to speak her wishes, yet lier looks.
Her silent looks, significantly ask,
" Is there not one amongst my many servants
To save me from this sad alternative ?
Either to tremble in eternal fear
Upon my throne, or else to sacrifice ^ J

A Queen of my own kindred on the block?'
PauIj. 'Tis even so ; nor can it be avoided — '^^
Bub. Well might it be avoided, tVmifci W^^xyweo.,

sc. VIII.] MARY STUART. 49

If she had only more attentive servants.

I^ATJii. How more attentive ?

SuBiiElOH. Such as could interpret

A silent mandate.

PAUI.ET. What? A silent mandate I

!BuB. mho, when a pois'nous adder is delivered

Into their hands, would keep the treacherous charge
As if it were a sacred, precious jewel ?

!PATJii. A precious jewel is the Queen's good name,
And spotless reputation : good, my Lord,
One cannot guard it with sufficient care.

Bub. When, out of Shrewsbury's hand, the Queen of Scots
Was trusted to Sir Amias Paulet's care,
The meaning was

Paui^et. I hope to God, my Lord

The meaning was, to give the weightiest charge
Into the purest hands : my Lord, my Lord I
By Heav'n, I had disdain'd this bailiff's office,
Had I not thought the service claimed the care
Of the best man that England's realm can boast.
Let me not think I am indebted for it
To any thing but my unblemish'd name)

Bub. Spread the report, she wastes ; grows sicker still.
And sicker ; and expires at last in peace ;
Thus will she perish in the world's remembrance.
And your good name is pure.

PAiTiiET. But not my conscience*

Bub. Though you refuse us, Sir, your own assistance.
You will not, sure, prevent another's hand.

Paul. No murderer* s foot shall e' er approach her threshold,
Whilst she's protected by my household gods.
Her life's a sacred trust ; to me the head
Of Queen Elizabeth is not more sacred. | ; ^>,

3 ■'■ '■ .

so MARY STUART. [act ii.

Ye are the judges ; judge, and break the staff ;

And when ' lis time, then let the carpenter,

With axe and saw appear to build the scaffold.

My castle's portals shall ^^^ open to him,

The sheriff and the executioners ;

Till then, she is intrusted to my care ;

And, be assur'd, I will fulfil my trust,

She shall nor do, nor suffer what's unjust. \_ExeUnt

ACT II.

Scene I.

London, a Hall in the Pala/x of Westminster,
The E^jL OF Kent and Sib William Davison, meeting.

Day. Is that my Lord of Kent? So soon returned ?
Is then the tourney, the carousal over ?

Kent. How now? Were you not present at the tilt?

Day. My office kept me here.

Kent. Believe me. Sir,

You've lost the fairest show which ever taste
Devis'd, or graceful dignity perform' d :
For beauty's virgin fortress was presented,
As by Desire invested ; the Earl Marshal,
The Lord High Admiral, and ten other knights,
Belonging to the Queen, defended it,
And France's Cavaliers led the attack.
A herald march' d before the gallant troop.
And summon' d, in a madrigal, the fortress ;
And from the walls the Chancellor replied ;
And then th' artillery was play'd, and nosegays,
Breathing delicious fragrance, were discharg'd>.
From neat field-piecea *, bul m N^m^ xXi^ ^\aYDa.\

[I.] MARY STUART. 51

V Was valiantly resisted, and Desire
Was forced, unwillingly, to raise the siege.

7, A sign of evil boding, good, my Lord,
For the French suitors.

jrr. Why, you know that this

Was but in sport; when the attack* s in earnest.
The fortress will, no doubt, capitulate.

r. Ha I think you so ? 1 never can believe it.

NT. The hardest article of all is now

Adjusted, and acceded to by France;

The Dukfe of Anjou is content to hold

His holy worship in a private chapel.

And openly he promises to honor

And to protect the realm's establish' d faith.

Had you but heard the people's joyful shouts

Where'er the tidings spread, for it has been

The country's constant fear the Qneen might die

Without immediate issue of her body.

And England bear again the Komisli ch^in»^

If Mary Stuart should ascend the throne. . " -^*

V, This fear appears superfluous ; she goes
Into the bridal chamber ; Mary Stuart
Enters the gates of death.

srr. The Queen approaches.

Scene II.

er Elizabeth, led in by Leicester, Count Aubespine,
ELLiEVBE, Lords Shrewsbury and Burleigh, vdth
her French and English Gentlemen,

zabeth {to Aubespine).

Count, I am sorry for these noblemen.

Whose gallant zeal hath brougVvt V\i^Ta. o^^x.^e»

To visit these our shores, t\\al tW^, V\\)cLNi&-k^

52 MARY STUART. [act ii.

vMust miss the splendor of St. Germain's court.
Such pompous festivals of godlike state
I cannot furnish, as the royal court
Of France. A soher and contented people,
Which crowd around me with a thousand blessings,
Whene'er in public I present myself :
This is the spectacle which I can show.
And not without some pride, to foreign eyes.
The splendor of the noble dames who bloom
In Cath'rine's beauteous garden would, I know,
Eclipse myself, and my more modest merits.

AuB. The court of England has one lady only,
To show the wond' ring foreigner ; but all
That charms our hearts in the accomplished sex
Is seen united in her single person.

Bel. Great Majesty of England, suffer us

To take our leave, and to our royal master.

The Duke of Anjou, bring the happy news.

The hot impatience of his heart would not

Permit him to remain at Paris ; he

At Amiens awaits the joyful tidings ;

And thence to Calais reach his posts, to bring

With winged swiftness to his tranced ear

The sweet consent which, still we humbly hope,

Your royal lips will graciously pronounce.

Eliz. Press me no further now, CJount Bellievre,
It is not now a time, I must repeat.
To kindle here the joyful marriage torch.
The heav'ns low'r black and heavy o'er this land,
And weeds of mourning would become me better
Than the magnificence of bridal robes.
A fatal blow is aim'd against my heart ;
A blow which threatens to oppress my House.

sc. II.] MARY STUART. 53

Bel. y We only ask your Majesty to promise

Your royal hand when brighter days shall come.

£iiiz. Monarchs are but the slaves of their condition ;
They dare not hear the dictates of their hearts.
My wish was ever to remain unmarried,
And I had plac'd my greatest pride in this,
That men hereafter on my tomb might read
"Here rests the virgin Queen.'* But my good sub-
jects
Are not content that this should be : they think.
E'en now they often think, upon the time
When I shall be no more. ' Tis not enough
That blessings now are shower' d upon this land ;
They ask a sacrifice for future welfare.
And I must offer up my liberty,
My virgin liberty, my greatest good.
To satisfy my people. Thus they'd force
A lord and master on me. 'Tis by this
I see that I am nothing but a woman
In their regard ; and yet methought that I
Had govern' d like a man, and like a king.
Well wot I that it is not serving God
To quit the laws of nature ; and that those
Who here have rul'd before me merit praise.
That they have op'd the cloister gates, and giv'n
Thousands of victims of ill taught devotion
Back to the duties of humanity.
But yet a Queen, who hath not spent her days
In fruitless, idle contemplation ; who.
Without a murmur, indefatigably
Performs the hardest of all duties ; she
Should be exempted, from that natural law.
Which doth ordain one-half of human kindt

.■t-'^

MARY STUART. [act

Jhall ever be subservient to the other,
hreat Queen, you have upon your throne do
honor
To ev*ry virtue ; nothing now remains
But to the sex, whose greatest boast you are,
To be the leading star, and give the great
Example of its most consistent duties.
'Tis true, the man exists not who deserves
That you to him should sacrifice your freedom ;
Yet if a hero's soul, descent, and rank,
And manly beauty can make mortal man
Deserving of this honor--

Elizabeth. Without doubt,

My Lord Ambassador, a marriage union
With France's royal son would do me honor:
Yes, I acknowledge it without disguise,
If it must be, if I cadnot prevent it,
If I must yield unto my people's prayers,
And much I fear they will overpower me,
I do not know, in Europe, any prince
To whom with less reluctance I would yield
My greatest treasure, my dear liberty.
Let this confession satisfy your master.

Bel. It gives the fairest hope, and yet it gives

Nothing but hope ; my master wishes more.

Eliz. What wishes he?

[^She takes a ring from her finger j and thou^
examines it.

In this a Queen has not
One privilege above all other women.
This common token marks one common dut
One common servitude ; the ring denotes
Marriage; and 'tis of rings a chain is form'

sc. II.] MARY STUART. 55

/ . . . .

\ Convey this present to his Highness; 'tis
"As yet no chain, it binds me not as yet,
But out of it may grow a link to bind me.

BELiiXEVBE {kneeling).

This present, in his name, upon my knees,
I do receive, great Queen, and press the kiss
Of homage on the hand of her who is
Henceforth my princess.

Elizabeth {to the Earl of Leicester, whom she, during the.

last speeches f had contintuiUy regarded).

By your leave, my Lord. •
{^She takes the blue riband from his neck,^ and in^-
vests JBellievre with it.
Invest his Highness with this ornament,
As I invest you with it, and receive you
Into the duties of my gallant order.
And **Honi soit qui mal y pense.** Thus perish.
All jealousy between our several realms,
And let the bond of confidence unite.
Henceforth, the crowns of Britain and of France..

Bel. Most sov' reign Queen, this is a day of joy ;
O that it could be so for all, and no
Afflicted heart within this island mourn.
See I mercy beams upon thy radiant brow ;
Let the reflection of its cheering light
Fall on a wretched princess, who concerns
Britain and France alike.

Elizabeth. No further. Count I

Let us not mix two inconsistent things ;
If France be truly anxious for my hand,

1 Till the time of Charles the First, the Knights of the GaJ^
ter wore the blae riband with the George, about their ueckat
as they still do the collars, on great days. — Translator. /

MARY STUART. [act ii.

It must partake my interests, and renounce

Alliance with my foes.
FBESPIKE. In thine own eyes

Would she not seem to act unworthily

If, in this joyous treaty, she forgot

This hapless Queen, the widow of her king,

In whose behalf, her honor and her faith

Are bound to plead for grace ?
IZABETH. Thus urged, I know

To rate this intercession at its worth ;

France has discharged her duties as a friend,

I will fulfil my own as England* s Queen.

[^She bows to the French Ambassadors, who, with the
other Gentlemen, retire respectfully, )

Scene III.

'JrUer Burleigh, Leicester, and Talbot. The Queen

takes her seat,

IL Illustrious sovereign, thou crown' st to-day
The fervent wishes of thy people r^now
We can rejoice. in the propitious days
Which thou bestow' st upon us ; and we look
K^o more with fear and trembling tow'rds the time
Which, charg'd with storms, futurity presented 5
Now, but one only care disturbs this land ;
It is a sacrifice which every voice
Demajnds ; O ! grant but this, and England's peace
Will -be establish' d now and evermore.

iz. Wha± wish they still, my Lord ? Speak.

RLEiGH. They deiu

The Stuart's head, af to thy people thou
Wouldst now secure the precious boon of f ree<l^

sc. III.] MARY STUART. 57

And the fair light of truth so dearly won,
Then she must di^ if we are not to. live
In endless terror for thy precious life,
The enemy must fall :,]for well thou know'st,
That all thy Britons are not true alike
^^mish Idolatry has still its friends
In secret, in this island, who foment
The hatred of our enemies. Their hearts
All turn towards this Stuart ; they are leagued
With the two plotting brothers of Lorrain,
The foes inveterate of thy house and name.
'Gainst thee this raging faction hath declared
A war of desolation, which they wage
With the deceitful instruments of hell.
At Bheims, the Cardinal Archbishop's see.
There is the arsenal from which they dart
These lightnings ; there the school of regicide ;
Thencef in a thousand shapes disguised, are sent
Their secret missionaries to this isle ;
Their bold and daring zealots ; far from thence
Have we not seen the third assassin come ?
And inezhausted is the direful breed
Of secret enemies in this abyss.
While in her castle sits, at Fotheringay,
The Ate^ of this everlasting war,

1 The picture of At6, the Goddess of mischief, we are ac-
quainted with from Homer, II. v. 91. 130. I. 501. She is a
daughter of Jupiter, and eager to prejudice every one, even the
immortal gods. She counteracted Jupiter himself, on which
account he seized her by her beautiful hair, and liurled her
from heaven to the earth, where she now, striding over the
heads of men, excites them to evil, in order to involve them
in calamity. — Herder.

Shakespere has, in Julius Caesar, made a fine use of this
image: —

MARY STUART. [act ii.

Who, with the torch of love, spreads flames around ;

For her who sheds delusive hopes on all,

Youth dedicates itself to certain death ;

To set her free is the pretence — the aim

Is to establish her upon the throne.

For this accursed House of Guise denies

Thy sacred right ; and in their mouths thou art

A robber of the throne, whom chance has crown'd,

By them this thoughtless woman was deluded,

Proudly to style herself the Queen of England 5

No peace can be with her, and with her house ;

JTheir hatred is too bloody, and their crimes

Too great ;] thou must resolve to strike, or suffer ; —

Her life is death to thee, her death thy life.

iz. My Lord, you bear a melancholy office :
I know the purity which guides your zeal.
The solemn wisdom which informs your speech :
And yet I hate this wisdom, when it calls
For blood, I hate it in my inmost soul.
Think of a milder counsel — Good, my Lord
Of Shrewsbury, we crave your judgment here.

L. ^Desire you but to know, most gracious Queen.]
pVhat is for your advantage, I can add
Nothing to what my Lord High Treasurer
Has urged, than, for your welfare, let the sentence
Be now confirm^ — this much is proved already :
There is no surer method to avert
The danger from your head, and from the state.

"And Ccesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side, come hot from hell,
Shall in these confiues, with a monarch's voice
Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war."
need not point out to the reader the beautiful propi
introducing this evil spirit on this occasion. — TranslaI

. sc. III.] MARY STUART. 59

Should you in this reject our true advice,

You can dismiss your council. We are placed

Here as your counsellors, but to consult

The welfare of this land, and with our knowledge^

And our experience, we are bound to serve ygu I

But in what's good and just, most gracious Queen,

You have no need of counsellors, your conscience

Knows it full well, and it is written there.

Nay it were overstepping our commission

If we attempted to instruct you in it.

£l.iz. Yet speak, my worthy Lord of Shrewsbury.
'Tis not our understanding fails aloiie.
Our heart, too, feels it wants some sage adv icej

TAii. "- WoU diiUi yo wi"p wiiw^li » »p i ri0ht .. a i ieial whiflb^ Ses
Lord Burleigh's loyal breast ; my bosom, too,
Although my tongue be not so eloquent.
Beats with no weaker, no less faithful pulse.
Long may you live, my Queen, to be the joy
Of your delighted people, to prolong
Peace and its envied blessings in this realm.
Ne'er hath this isle beheld such happy days
Since it was govern' d by its native kings.
O let it never buy its happiness
"With its good name ; at least, may Talbot's eyes
Be clos'd in death e'er this shall come to pass.

£130. Iptrbid it. Heaven, that our good name be stain'^

Tal. yiii'M miiil >i|jLi[JL.fiiiii3 some other way than this
To save thy kingdom, for the sentence pass'd
Of death against the Stuart is unjust.
You cannot upon her pronounce a sentence.
Who is not subject to you.

Elizabeth. Then, it seems,

My council and mv parliament have err'd ;

6q MARY STUART. [act

Each bench of justice in the land is wrong,
Which did, with one accord, admit this right.
Talbot {afler a pause).

The proof of justice lies not in the voice^
Of numbers ^England's not the worldlnor is
Thy parliament the focus, which collects
The vast opinion of the human race.
This present England is no more the future.
Than 'tis the past; as inclination changes,
Thus ever ebbs and flows the unstable tide
Of public judgment. Say not, then, that thou
Must act as stem necessity compels,
That thou must yield to the importunate
Petitions of thy peoplej ev'ry hour
Thou canst experience'Tnat thy will is free
Make trial, and declare, thou hatest blood,
^d that thou wilt protect thy sister's life^
jhpw those who wish to give thee other counse
That here thy royal anger is not feignM,
And thou shalt see how stern necessity
Can vanish, and what once was titled justice
Into injustice be converted : thou
Thyself must pass the sentence, thou alone : —
Trust not to this unsteady, trembling reedJ
'S^i hear the gracious dictates of thy heart.
God hath not planted rigor in the frame
Of woman :^id the founders of this realm,
Who to the female hand have not denied
The reins of government, intend by this
To sho\flw^ercy, not severity.
Is the liSfvirtue to adorn a crown.
Euz. Lord Shrewsb'ry is a fervent advocate
For mine and England's enemy ; I must

Apd

ri.] MARY STUART. 6i

Prefer those counsellors who wish mvwelfare.

^er advocates have an invidious tasQ
None will, by speaking in her favor, dare
To meet thy anger : suffer, then, an old
A.nd faithful counsellor (whom nought on earth
Can tempt, on the grave's brink) to exercise
The pious duty of humanity.

lit never shall be said, that, in thy council,
Passion and interest could find a tongue,
While mercy's pleading voice alone was mute.
All circumstances have conspird against her ;
Thou ne'er hast seen her face, and nothing speaks
Within thy breast for one that *8 stranger to thee,.
I do not take the part of her misdeeds ;

i£hey say 'twas she who planned her husband's

murder ;
'Tis true that she espoused his murderer.
A grievous crime, no doubt ; but then it happened
In darksome days of trouble and dismay,
In the stern agony of civil war.
When she, a woman, helpless and hemm'd in
By a rude crowd of rebel vassals, sought
Protection in a powerful chieftain's arms.
God knows what arts were used to overcome her I
For woman is a weak and fragile things
. iWoman's not weak ; there are heroic souls
Among the sex ; and, in my presence,. Sir,
I do forbid to speak of woman's weakness.'*

/.Misfortune was for thee a rigid school "j

^hou wast not station' d on the sunny side
Of life ; thou saw'st no throne, from far, before

thee;
The grave was gaping for thee at thy fee^

62 MARY STUART. [

tAt Woodstock, and in London's gloomy tow
^^as there the gracious father of this land
Taught thee to know thy duty, by misfortun
No flatt'rer sought thee there: there learn

soul,
Far from the noisy world and its distraction!
To commune with itself, to think apart,
And estimate the real goods of life^
7 No God protected this poor snfferSr r^
Transplanted in her early youth to France,
The Court of levity and thoughtless joys,
,There, in the round of constant dissipation.
She never heard the earnest voice of truth ;v
: She was deluded by the glare of vice,
And driven onward by the stream of ruin.
Hers was the vain possession of a face^
And she outshone all others of her Sex
As far in beauty as in noble birth.

Eliz. Ck)llect yourself, my Lord of Shrewsbury ;
^>2gthink you we are met in solemn councTHj
Those charms must surely be without compa
Which can engender, in an elder's blood,
Such fire. My Lord of Leicester, you alone
Are silent ; does the subject which has made
Him eloquent deprive you of your speech ?

Leig. Amazement ties my tongue, my Queen, ^o tl
That they should fill thy soul with such alar
^nd that the idle tales, which in the streets
or London terrify the people's ears.
Should reach th* enlighten' d circle of thy co
And gravely occupy our statesmen's minds. "^
Astonishment possesses me, I own, ~^

To think this lackland Queen of Scotland, si

sc. III.] ♦ ¥^9^ STUART. 63

Who could nol save her own poor throne, l^he jest
Of her own vassal^j^d her country's refuse,
[Who in her fairest oS^s of freedom was
But thy despised puppet^ should become
At^once thy terror whetra prisoner,
^hat, in Heaven's name, can make her formidable?
That she lays claim to England ? that the Guises
Will not acknowledge thee as Queen ? [Did then
Thy people's loyal fealty await
These Guises' approbation ?] Can these Guises,
With their objections, ever shake the right
Which birth hath giv'n thee; which, with one

consent.
The votes of parliament have ratified ?
And is not she, by Henry s will, pass'd o'er
In silence ? Is it probable that England,
As yet so bless' d in the new light's enjoyment,
Should throw itself into this papist's arms?
From thee, the sov' reign it adores, desert
To Darnley's murderess? What will they then.
These restless men, who even in thy lifetime
Torment thee with a successor ; who cannot
Dispose of thee in marriage soon enough
To rescue church and state from fancied peril ?
Stand'st thou not blooming there in youthful prime
While each step leads her tow'rds th' expecting

tomb?
^y Heavens ! I hope thou wilt full many a year
^alk o'er the Stuart's grave, and ne'er become
thyself the instrument of her sad end.x'
Lord Leicester hath not always held this tone.
'Tis true, I in the court of justice gave
My verdict for her death *, \iwe, va. \Xi^ ^wi\iS5\

64 MARY STUART. [act

may consistently speak otherwise :
Here right is not the question, but advantage.^
Is this a time to fear her power, when France,

Her only succor, has abandoned her?
When thou preparest with thy hand to bless
The royal son of France^ ^hen the fair hope
Of a new, glorious stem oi sovereigns
Begins again to blossom in this land?
Why hasten then her deatli^ ilShe'^dead already.
Contempt and scorn are dmth to her; take heed
Lest ill-tim'd pity call her into life.
'Tis therefore my advice to leave the sentence,
By which her life is forfeit, in full force.
Let her live on ; but let her live beneath
The headsman's axe, and, from the very hour
One arm is lifted for her, let it fall. 1
Elizabeth (rises). ^

My Lords, I now have heard your several thoughts
And give my ardent thanks for this your zeal,
^^th God's assistance, who the hearts of kings
Illumine^ I will weigh your arguments.
And choose what best my judgment shall approve.

[To BURLELGB

[Lord Burleigh's honest fears, I know it well, •

Te but the offspring of his faithful care ;
But yet. Lord Leicester has most truly said,
There is no need of haste ; our enemy
Hath lost already her most dangerous sting —
The mighty arm of France : the fear that she
Might quickly.be the victim of their zeal
Will curb the blind impatience of her friends. ]tt

(tLc

^.] MARY STUART. 65

Scene IV.
Enter Sib Amias Paitlet and Mortimeb.

^2. CHierej) Sir Amias Paulet ; noble Sir,
What tidings bring you ?

^^. Gracious Sovereign,

My nephew, who but lately is returned
From foreign travel, kneels before thy feet.
And offers thee his first and earliest homage.
Grant him thy royal grace, and let him grow
And flourish in the sunshine of thy favor.

)BT]MEB (kneding on one knee).

Long live my royal mistress I Happiness
And glory form a crown to grace her brows !

iz. Arise, Sir Knight, and welcome here in England;
You' ve made, I hear, the tour, have been in France
And Rome, and tarried, too, some time at Kheims ;
Tell me what plots our enemies are hatching ?

)RT. May God confound them all I And may the darts
Which they shall aim against my Sovereign,
Recoiling, strike their own perfidious breasts I

IZ. ^id you see Morgan, and the wily Bishop
Of Ross ?

)BT. I saw, my Queen, all Scottish exiles

Who forge at Rheims their plots against this realm.
I stole into their confidence, in hopes
To learn some hint of their conspiracies.

JTU Private despatches they entrusted to him,

In cyphers, for the Queen of Scots, which he.
With loyal hand, hath given up to us.

IZ. Say, what are then their latest plans of treason ?

>BT. It struck them all as 'twere a thunderbolt.

That France should leave them, and with England/
close

66 MARY STUART. [act

frh

h^cf

his firm alliance : now thej turn their hopes
bw'rds Spain

Elizabeth. This Waldingham hath written

Besides, a bull, which from the Vatican
-Pope Sixtus lately levell'd at thy throne,
Arrived at KHeims as I was leaving it :
With the next ship we may expect it here.

Leic. England no more is frighten' d by such arms.

Bur. They're always dangerous in bigots' hands?^

Elizabeth {looking ateadfasily at Mortimer). ""^
Your enemies have said that you frequented
The schools at Bheims, and have abjur'd y
faith.

MoRT. So I pretended, that I must confess :

Such was my anxious wish to serve my Queen.

Elizabeth {to Paulet, who presents papers to her).
What have you there ?

Paulet. * 'Tis from the Queen of So

'Tis a petition, and to thee address' d.

Burleigh {hastily catching at it )
Give me the paper.

Paulet Qiving it to the Queen).

^*^' By your leave, my Lord

High Treasurer ; the Lady order'd me

To bring it to her Majesty's own hands. /

Siie says I am her enemy ; I am

The enemy of her offences only.

And that which is consistent with my duty

I will, and readily, oblige her in.^

[The Queen tplces the leiter; as she rem
Mortimer and Leicester speak some \
in private,

Burleigh {to Paulet).

/.] MARY STUART. 67

What may the purport of the letter be ?

udle complaints^ from which one ought to screen

Tlie Queen's too tender heart!)

[<ET. ^hat it contains

She did not hide from me ; she asks a boori*|
She begs to be admitted to the grace
Of speaking with the Queen.

[<£I6H. It cannot be.

Why not? Her supplication's not unjust.
«For her, the base encourager of murder ;
Her, who hath thirsted for our sovereign's blood,
The privilege to see the royal presence
Is forfeited : a faithful counsellor
Can never give this treacherous advice.
And if the Queen is gracious, Sir, are you
The man to hinder pity's soft emotions?^
She is condemn' d to death :^er head is laid
Beneath the axe, and it would ill become
l^e Queen to see a death-devoted head.^
^^)^^ sentence cannot have its execution
If the Queen's Majesty approaches her,
For pardon still attends the royal presence,
As sickness flies the health-dispensing haiid|

JABETH {having read the letter ^ dries her tears).

O I what is man ! What is the bliss of earth !
To what extremities is she reduc'd
t^ho with such proud and splendid hopes began V
Who, call'd to sit on the most ancient throne
Of Christendom, misled by vain ambition,
Hop'd with a triple crown to deck her brows ! ■
flow is her language alter' d, since the tim^'
When she assum'd the arms of England's citlwny-
/2Lnd by the flatt' rers of her Court was styled 1

€8 MARY STUART. [act

^ole monarch of the two Britannic isles 1/
Forgive me, Lords, my heart is cleft in twain,
Anguish possesses me, and my soul hleeds
To think that earthly goods are so unstable,
And that the dreadful fate which rules mankim
Should threaten mine own house, and scowl so i
me.
Tal. O, Queen I the God of mercy hath informed

Your heart ; O I hearken to this heav'nly guidai
Most grievously, indeed, hath she aton'd
Her grievous crime, and it is time that now,
At last, her heavy penance have an end.
Stretch forth your hand, to raise this abject Qu(
And, like the luminous vision of an angel.
Descend into her gaoPs sepulchral night.
Bub. Be steadfast, mighty Queen ; let no emotion
Of seeming laudable humanity
Mislead thee ;^ake not from thyself the pow'r
Of acting as necessity commands.4

(Thou canst not pardon her, thou canst not save
Tnen heap not on thyself the odious blame
That thou, with cruel and contemptuous triuo
Didst glut thyself with gazing on thy victim)
Leic. Let us, my Lords, remain within our bouMs

^he Queen is wise, and doth not need our cor
To lead her to the most becoming choice. •?

/Ifhis meeting of the Queens hath nought L

^^ mon

With the proceedings of the Court of Justif
The law of England, not the monarch's wil
Condemns the Queen of Scotland, and ' twev
Of the great soul of Queen Elizabeth,
To follow the soft dictates of her heart,

>. v.] MARY STUART. 69

... 7

<CiftOugh jastice swerve not from its rigid path^

luz. Eetire, my Lords. — We shall, perhaps, find means
To reconcile the tender claims of pity
With what necessity imposes on us.
And now retire. —

IThe Lords retire : she calU Sir Edward Morti-
mer bcu^.

Sir Edward Mortimer !

Scene V.

Elizabeth, Mortimer.

Elizabeth {having measured him for some time^ with her eyes,

in sHeTice),

You've shown a st)irit of adventurous courage
And self-possession far beyond your years.
He who has timely learnt to play so well
The difficult dissembler's needful task
Becomes a perfect man before his time,
And shortens his probationary years.
Fate calls you to a lofty scene of. action ;
I prophesy it, and can, happily
For you, fulfil, myself, my own prediction.

^OBT. Illustrious mistress, what I am, and all
I can accomplish, is devoted to you.

luz. You've made acquaintance with the foes of Eng-
land.
Their hate against me is implacable ;
Their fell designs are inexhaustible.
As yet, indeed, Almighty Providence
Hath shielded me ; but on my brows the crown
For ever trembles while she lives who fans
Their bigot-zeal, and animates their hopes.

L «->

(

70 MARY STUART. [a

MoRT. She lives no more, as soon as you command it

£liz. O, Sir I I thought I saw my labor's end,
And I am come no farther than at first
I wished to let the laws of England act,
And keep my own hands pure from blood's d

ment.
The sentence is pronounc'd — what gain I by i
It must be executed, Mortimer,
And I must authorize the execution.
The blame will ever light on me, I must
Avow it, nor can save appearances,
frhat is the worst^

MobtimebT But can appearances

Disturb your conscience where the cause is jui

Eliz. You are unpractised in the world, Sir Knight
What we appear, is subject to the judgment
Of all mankind, and what we are, of no man.
No one will be con vine' d that I am right :
I must take care that my connivance in
Her death be wrapp'd in everlasting doubt.
In deeds of such uncertain double visSige
Safety lies only in obscurity.
Those measures are the worst that stand avo^
What's not abandon' d, is not wholly lost.

Moktimeb {seeking to learn her meaning) .
Then it perhaps were best —

Elizabeth {quick). Ay, surely 'twer

The best ; O, Sir, my better angel speaks
Through you I— go on then, worthy Sir, con
You are in earnest, you examine deep,
Have quite a different spirit from your uncle

MoBTiMEB {surprised).

Have you imparted then your wishes to hin^

1.] MARY STUART. 71

^ I am sorry that I have.

^TiMER. Excuse his age,

The old man is grown scrupulous ; such bold
Adventures ask the enterprising heart
Of youth — •

lABETH. And may I venture then on you —

L My hand I'll lend thee ; save then as thou canst
Thy reputation —

LiBETH. Yes, Sir ; if you could

But waken me some morning with this news —
** Maria Stuart, your blood-thirsty foe,
Breath' d yesternight her last " —

TIMER. Depend on me.

i. When shall my head lie calmly down to sleep*?

T. The next new moon will terminate thy fears.

1. And be the selfsame happy day the dawn
Of your preferment4-so God speed you, Sir ;
And be not hurt, if, chance, my thankfulness
Should wear the mask of darkness. — Silence is
The happy suitor's god. — The closest bonds.
The dearest, are the work of secrecy. ; \_ExU,

Scene VI.

Mortimer (alone).

Go, false, deceitful Queen I As thou deludest
The world, e'n so I cozen thee ; 'tis right.
Thus to betray thee ; 'tis a worthy deed.
Look I then like a murd'rer ? Hast thon read
Upon my brow such base dexterity ?
Trust only to my arm, and keep thine own
Conceal' d — assume the pious outward show
Of mercy 'fore the world, while reckoning
In secret on my murd' rous aid ; and thus

72 MARY STUAR^r.

t gaining time we shall ensure her rescu
)u wilt ezalt me I — show'st me from afa
3 costly recompense : but even were
Thyself the prize, and all thy woman's fav
What art thou, poor one, and what cai

proffer?
I scorn ambition's avaricious strife,
With hei' alone is all the charm of life,
O'er Acr, in rounds of endless glory, hover
Spirits with grace, and youth eternal bless'
Celestial joy is thron'd upon her breast.
Thou hast but earthly, mortal goods to off<
That sov' reign good, for which all else be i
When heart in heart, delighting and delig]
Together flow in sweet forgetfulness ; —
Ne'er didst thou woman's fairest crown pos
Ne'er hast thou with thy hand a lovei

requited.
— I must attend Lord Leicester, and delive
Her letter to him — 'tis a hateful charge —
I have no confidence in this court puppet-
Jean effect her rescue, /alone ;
Be danger, honor, and the prize my own.-

[As he 18 going y Paulet m

Scene VII.

Mortimer, Paulet.
I
Paul. \ What said the Queen to you? —

MoRTiMEB. 'Twas nothi

Nothing of consequence —
Paulet {looking at him earnestly). Hear, Mortimer^

It is a false and slipp'ry ground on which

VII.] MARY STUART. 73

{Jfou tread. The grace of princes is alluring,
Youth loves ambition — ^let not yours betray you.

>Kt. Was it not yourself that brought me to the Court ?

^tJi^ O, would to God I had not done as much !
The honor of our house was never reap'd
In courts. Stand fast, my nephew — purchase not
Too dear, nor stain your conscience with a crime.

^Q^T. What are these fears ? What are you dreaming of ?

■^tJL. How high 8oe*er the Queen may pledge herself
To raise you, trust not her alluring words.
[The spirit of the world's a lying spirit.
And vice is a deceitful, treacherous friend.]
She will deny you, if you listen to her ;
And, to preserve her own good name, will punishr
The bloody deed, which she herself enjoined.

[qbt. The bloody deed ! —

A.UXET. Away, dissimulation! —

I know the deed the Queen proposed to you.
She hopes that your ambitious youth will prove
More docile than my rigid age. But say.
Have you then pledg'd your promise, have you? —

OBT. Uncle I

LUi*. If you have done so, I abandon you.
And lay my curse upon you —

EICESTER (entering). Worthy Sir !

I with your nephew wish a word. — The Queen
Is graciously inclin'd to him ; she wills
That to his custody the Scottish Queen
Be with full powers entrusted. She relies
On his fidelity.

iULET. Relies I — His well —

Eic. What say you, Sir?

&.ULET. Her Majesty relies^ *

74 MARY STUART. [act II.

/
. i^On him ; and I, my noble Lord, rely

Upon myself and my two open eyes. ^ExiL

Scene VIII.
Leicester, Mortimer.

Leicester (mrprised). What ailed the Knight?

Mortimer. My Lord, I cannot tell

What angers him : — the confidence, perhaps,
The Queen so suddenly confers on me.

Leic. Are you deserving, then, of confidence ?

Mort. This would I ask of you, my Lord of Leicester^

Leic. You said you wish'd to speak with me in private.

Mort. Assure me first that I may safely venture. j

Leic. Who gives me an assurance on your side ?
Let not my want of confidence oSend you ;
I see you. Sir, exhibit at this court
Two diff rent aspects ; one of them mtiet be
A borrow' d one ; but which of them is real ?

Mort, The selfsame doubts I have concerning you.

Leic. Which, then, shall pave the way to confidence ?

Mort. He who, by doing it, is least in danger.

Leic. Well, that are you—

Mortimer. No, you ; — the evidence

Of such a weighty, powerful peer as you
Can overwhelm my voice. My accusation
Is weak against your rank and influence.

LiEC. Sir, you mistake. In ev'rything but this

I'm powerful here,* but in this tender point,
Which I am calPd upon to trust you with,
I'm the weakest man of all the Court,
The poorest testimony can undo me.
MoBT, If the all-pow*rful Earl of Leicester deign
To'Stoop 80 low to meel la^, wi^ Xa xaska

sc.viii.] MARY STUART. 75

Such a confession to me, I may venture

To think a little better of myself,

And lead the way in magnanimity^
Leic. Lead you the way of confidence, THl follow.
MoBTlMEB {producing suddenly the letter).

Here is a letter from the Queen of Scotland.
Leicester {alarmedy catches hastily at the letter).

Speak softly, Sir 1 — what see I ? — Oh it ig

Her picture I — .

[^Kisses and examines it with speechless joy — a
pause,
MoBTlMEB {who has waiehed him closely the whole time).
^ Now, my Lord, I can believe you.

Leicesteb {having hastily run through the letter).

You know the purport of this letter. Sir ?
MoBT. Not L —

Leicesteb. Indeed?^ She surely hath informed you. —

MoBT. Nothing hath she inform' d me of. She said

You would explain this riddle to mer-(ti3

To me a riddle that the Earl of Leicester,

The far-fam*d fav'rite of Elizabeth,

The open, bitter enemy of Mary,

And one of those who spoke her mortal sentence.

Should be the man from whom the Queen expects

Deliverance from her woes ; and yet it must be ;

Your eyes express too plainly what your heart

Feels for the hapless lady.* —
Leicesteb. Tell me, Sir,

First, how it comes that you should take so warm

An interest in her fate ; and what it was

Gained you her confidence? —
Mo&TiHEB. My Lord, I can.

And in a few words, explain this mystery.

76 MARY STUART. [ACT

I lately have at Kome abjur'd my creed,
And stand in correspondence with the Guises.
A letter from the Cardinal Archbishop
Was my credential with the Queen of Scots.

Leic. I am acquainted, Sir, with your conversion :

'Twas that which wak*d my confidence towards yo
[Each remnant of distrust be henceforth banished
Your hand, Sir ; pardon me these idle doubts.
I cannot use too much precaution Jiere,
Knowing how Walsingham and Burleighjiate m
And, watching me, iia_8ecretj8pread_theiiLa^ar6s^
You might have been their instrument, theirl^res

ure,
To lure me to their toils.

MoRTBiER. How poor a part

^ So great a nobleman is forc'd to play
At court I My Lord, I pity yoiy

Leicester. With joy

I rest upon ♦.he faithful breast of friendship,
Where I can ease me of this long constraint.
You seem surprised, Sir, that my heart is turn'd
So suddenly towards the captive Queen.
In truth, I never hated her ; — the times
Have forc'd me to appear her enemy.
She was, as you well know, my destined bride,
Long since, ere she bestowed her hand on Darn?
While yet the beams of glory round her 8mil*<^
Coldly I then refused the proffered boon.
Now in confinement, at the gates of death,
I claim her, at the hazard of my life.

MoRT. True magnanimity, my Lord —

Leicester. T1

Of circumstances since that time is chang'd.

sc. VIII.] MARY STUART. 77

Ambition made me all insensible

To youth and beauty. — Mary's hand I held

Too insignificant for me ; — I hoped

To be the husband of the Queen of England.

MoRT. It is well known she gave you preference
Before all others.

Leicester. ' So, indeed, it seem*d.

Now, after ten lost years of tedious courtship
And hateful self -constraint— O, Sir, my heart
Must ease itself of this long agony.
They call me happy 1 — Did they only know
What the chains are for which they envy me I
When I had sacrificed ten bitter years
To the proud idol of her vanity ;
Submitted with a slave's humility
To ev'ry change of her despotic fancies ;
The plaything of each little wayward whim.
At times by seeming tenderness caressed,
As oft repulsed with proud and cold disdain ;
Alike tormented by her grace and rigor :
Watch'd like a prisoner by the Argus-eyes
Of jealousy ; examined like a school-boy.
And railed at like a servant. — O, no tongue
Can paint this hell —

MoETiMER. My Lord, I feel for you.

*^c. To lose, and at the very goal, the prize I
Another comes to rob me of the fruits
Of my so anxious wooing. I must lose
To her young blooming husband all those rights
Of which I was so long in full possession ;
And I must from the stage descend, where I
So long have play'd the most distinguish' d part.
'Tis not her hand alone this envious stranger

78 MARY STUART. [act

Threatens — he'd rob me of her favor too ;
She is a woman, and he form'd to please.

MoRT. He is the son of Cath'rine. He has learnt
In a good school the arts of flattery.

Leic. Thus fall my hopes ; — I strove to seize a plank
To bear me in this shipwreck of my fortunes,
And my eye tum'd itself towards the hope
Of former days once more ; then Mark's image
Within me was renew'd, and youth and beauty
Once more asserted all their former right^.''
No more 'twas cold ambition ; 'twas my heart
Which now compared, and with regret I felt
The value of the jewel I had lost.
With horror I beheld her in the depths
Of misery, cast down by my transgression ;
Then wak'd the hope in me that I might still
Deliver and possess her ; I contriv'd
To send her, through a faithful hand, the news
Of my conversion to her interests ;
And in this letter which you brought me she
Assures me that she pardons me, and offers
Herself as guerdon if I rescue her.

MoRT. But you attempted nothing for her rescue.
You let her be condemned without a word ;
You gave, yourself, your verdict for her death ;
A miracle must happen, and the light
Of truth must move me, m<;, her keeper's nephen
And Heav'n must, in the Vatican at Home,
Prepare for her an unexpected succor.
Else had she never found the way to you.

Leic. O, Sir I It has tormented me enough I

About this time it was that they remov'd hej
From Talbot's castle, and deliver' d her

HI.] MARY STUART. 79

Up to your uncle's stricter custody.

Each way to her was shut I was obliged,

Before the world, to persecute her still ;

But do not think that I would patiently

Have seen her led to death. No, Sir ; I hop'd,

And still I hope, to ward off all extremes,

Till I can find some certain means to save her.
r. These are already found : my Lord of Leicester,

Your gen'rous confidence in me deserves

A like return. / will deliver her.

That is my object here— my dispositions

Are made already, and your pow' rful aid

Assures us of success in our attempt.

What say you? — you alarm me — how? — you

would

r. 1*11 open forcibly her prison-gates : —

I haiVe confederates, and all is ready.

You have confederates, accomplices?
. Alas I In what rash enterprise would you

Engage me? And these friends, know they my
secret?
r. Fear not ; our plan w&s laid without your help.

Without your help it would have been accom-
plished.

Had she not signified her resolution

To owe her liberty to you alone.
!. And can you then, with certainty, assure me

That in your plot my name has not been mention' d ?
T. You may depend upon it. How, my Lord,

So scrupulous when help is offer' d you ?

You wish to rescue Mary and possess her ;

You find confed' rates ; sudden, unexpected,

The readiest means fall, as it were from Heaven ;

8o MARY STUART. [aci

Yet you show more perplexity than joy.
Leic. We must avoid all violence ; it is

Too dangerous an enterprise.
Mortimer. Delay

Is also dangerous.
Leicester. I tell you, Sir,

*Tis not to be attempted —
Mortimer. My Lord,

Too hazardous for you who would possess her ;

But wcy who only wish to rescue her,

We are more bold.
Leicester. Young man, you are too ha

In such a thorny, dangerous attempt.
MoRT. And you too scrupulous in honoris cause.
Leic. I see the trammels that are spread around us.
MoRT. And I feel courage to break through them all.
Leic. Foolhardiness and madness, is this courage?
MoRT. This prudence is not bravery, my Lord.
Leic. You surely wish to end like Babington.
MoRT. You not to imitate great Norfolk's virtue.
Leic. Norfolk ne'er won the bride he woo'd so fondly.
MoRT. But yet he prov'd how truly he deserved her.
Leic. If we are ruined, she must fall with us.
MoRT. If we risk nothing, she will ne'er be rescued.
Leic. You will not weigh the matter, will not hear ;

With blind and hasty rashness you destroy

The plans which I so happily had framed.
MoRT. And what were, then, the plans which you 1
fram'd?

What have you done, then, to deliver her ?

And how, if I were miscreant enough

To murder her, as was propos'd to me

This moment by Elizabeth, and which

[II.] MARY STUART. 8i

She looks upon as certain ; only name

The measures you have taken to protect her ?

Did the Queen give you then this bloody order?

D. She was deceived in me, as Mary is
In you.

e:steb. And have you promisM it ; say, have you?

D. That she might not engage another's hand,
I offer'd mine.

BSTER. Well done, Sir, — that was right ; —

This gives us leisure, for she rests secure
Upon your bloody service, and the sentence
Is unfulfilPd the while, and we gain time.

:iMEB {angnly).

No, we are losing time.

ESTER. ^ The Queen depends

On you, and will the readier make a show
Of mercy— and I may prevail on her
To give an audience to her adversary ;
And by this stratagem we tie her hands :
^es I I will make the attempt, strain ev'ry nerve.

p. And what is gained by this? When she discovers
That I am cheating her, that Mary lives.
Are we not where we were ? She never will
Be free ; the mildest doom which can await her
At best is but perpetual confinement.
A daring deed must one day end the matter :
Why will you not with such a deed begin ?
The pow'r is in your hands, would you but rouse
The might of your dependents round about
Your many castles, Uwere an host ; and still
Has Mary many secret friends. The Howards
And Percies* noble houses, though their chiefs
Be falFn, are rich in heroes ; they but wait

82 MARY STUART. [act ii.

For the example of some potent lord.
Away with feigning — act an open part,
And,' like a loyal knight, protect your fair ;
Fight a good fight for her I You know you are
Lord of the person of the Queen of England,
Whene'er you will : invite her to your castle,
Oft hath she thither followed you — then show
That you're a man — then speak as master — keep her
Confined till she release the Queen of Scots,

Leic. I am astonish'd — I am terrified ! —

Where would your giddy madness hurry you ?

Are you acquainted with this country ? Know you

The deeps and shallows of this court ? "With what

A potent spell this female sceptre binds

And rules men's spirits round her? 'Tis in vain

You seek th* heroic energy which once

Was active in this land 1 — it is subdued, —

A woman holds it under lock and key.

And ev'ry spring of courage is relaxed.

Follow my counsel — venture nothing rashly.

Some one approaches— go—

MoBTiMER. And MaryShopes —

Shall I return to her with empty comfort ?

Leic. Bear her my vows of everlasting love.

MoRT. Bear them yourself ! I offer' d my assistance

As her deliv'rer, not your messenger. [^EriL

Scene IX.

^ Elizabeth, Leicester.

EliZh Say who was here ? I heard the sound of voices.
JjlBieifiSTER {turning quickly and perplexed round, on hearing

the Queen). N
It was young Mortimer —

sc. IX.] MARY STUART. 83

£lizab£th. How now, my Lord :

I Why so confus'd?

LsiCESTER (collecting himself).

Your presence is the cause.
Ne'er did I see thy beauty so resplendent ;
My sight is dazzled by thy heavenly charms.
Oh!—

ELIZABETH . Whence this sigh ?

Leicester. Have I no reason, then,

To sigh ? When I behold you in your glory,
I feel anew, with pain unspeakable.
The loss which threatens me.

Elizabeth. What loss, my Lord?

Leic. Your heart — your own inestimable self : —
Soon will you feel yourself within the arms
Of your young, ardent husband, highly blessed ;
He will possess your heart, without a rival.
He is of royal blood — that am not /.
Yet, spite of all the world can say, there lives not
One on this globe who with such fervent zeal
Adores you as the man who loses you.
Anjou hath never seen you, can but love
Your glory, and the splendor of your reign ; —
But I love you — and were you born of all
The peasant maids the poorest, I the first
Of kings, I would descend to your condition,
And lay my crown ahd sceptre at your feet I

Eliz. Oh pity me, my Dudley; do not blame me —
I cannot ask my heart. Oh, that had chosen
Far otherwise I Ah, how I envy others
Who can exalt the object of their love I
But I am not so blest : —His not my fortuha
To place upon the brows of him, the dearest

84 y MARY STUART. [act

Of men to me, the royal crown of England.
-The Queen of Scotland was allow' d to make
Her hand the token of her inclination ; —
She, hath had ev'ry freedom, and hath drunk,
E'en to the very dregs, the cup of joy.

Leic. And now she drinks the bitter cup of sorrow.

Eliz. She never did respect the world's opinion ; —
Life was to her a sport; — she never courted
The yoke to which I bow'd my willing neck.
And yet, methinks, I had as just a claim
As she to please myself and taste the joys
Of life: — but I preferr'd the rigid duties
Which royalty imposed on me ;— yet 8A«,
Sht was the favorite of all the men,
Because she only strove to be a woman,
And youth and age became alike her suitors.
Thus are the men — voluptuaries all 1
The willing slaves of levity and pleasure ;
Value that least which claims their reverence.
And did not even Talbot, though grey-headed.
Grow young again, when speaking of her charms

Leic. Forgive him — for he was her keeper once,

And she has fool'd him with her cunnitig wiles.

Eliz. And is it really true, that she's so fair?
So often have I been oblig'd to hear
The praises of this wonder— it were well
If I could learn on what I might depend :
Pictures are flattering, and description lies ; —
I will trust nothing but my own conviction.
Why gaze you at me thus?

Leicester. I plac'd in thought

You and Maria Stuart side by side. *>,

Yes ! I confess, I oft have felt a wish, *,

IX.] MARY STUART. 85

LIf it could be but secretly contrived,
To see you placed beside the Scottish Queen.
Then would you feel, and not till then, the full
Enjoyment of your triumph :— she deserves
To be thus humbled ; sh« deserves to see,
With her own eyes, and envy's glance is keen.
Herself surpass' d, to feel herself overmatched,
As much by thee in form and princely grace
As in each virtue that adorns the sex.

iz. In years she has th' advantage —

ICEBTTER. Has she so ?

I never should have thought it. But her griefs,

Her sufferings, indeed 1 'tis possible.

Have brought down age upon her ere her time.

Yes, and 'twould naortify her more to see thee

As bride — she hath already turn'd her back

On each fair hope of life, and she would see thee

Advancing towards the open arms of joy —

See ijxee as bride of ^France's royal son,

She who hath always plumed herself so high

On her connection with the House of France,

And still depends upon its mighty aid.

.IZABETH (with a careless aw).

I'm teaz'd to grant this interview.

acESTEB. She asks it

As a favor ; grant it as a punishment.
For though you should conduct her to the block,
Yet would it less torment her, than to see
Herself extinguish'd by your beauty's splendor.
Thus can you murder her, as she hath wish'd
To murder you. When she beholds^our beauty,
Guarded by modesty, and beaming britht,
In the clear glol-y of unspotted fame^y

86 MARY STUART. [actH.

f (\

(Which she with thoughtless levity discarded,)
^Exalted by the splendor of the crown,
And blooming now with tender bridal graces —
Then is the hour of her destruction come.
Yes — when I now behold you — you were never,
No, never were you so prepared to seal
The triumph of your beauty. As but now
You enter d the apartment, I was dazzled
As by a glorious vision from on high.
Could you but now, now as you are, appear
Before her, you could find no better moment.

£liz. Now ? — no — not now— no, Leicester— this must be
Maturely weigh'd— I must with Burleigh —

Leicester. Burleigh I

To him you are but Sovereign, and as such
Alone he seeks your welfare ; but your rights,
Derived from womanhood, this tender point
Must be decided by your own tribunal,
Not by the statesman : — yet e*en policy
Demands that you should see her, and allure,
By such a gen'rous deed, the public voice.
You can hereafter act as it may please you,
To rid you of the hateful enemy.

Eliz. But would it then become me to behold
My kinswoman in infamy and want ?
They say she is not royally attended ;
Would not the sight of her distress reproach me ?

Leic. You need not cross her threshold — hear my coun-
sel : —
A fortunate conjuncture favors it.
The hunt you mean to honor with your presence
Is in the neighborhood of Fotheringay ;
Permission may be given to Lady Stuart

MARY STUART. 87

f To take the air ; you meet her in the park,
VAs if by accident ; it must not seem
To have been plann'd, and should you not incline,
You need not speak to her.
[ZABETH. If I am foolish,

Be yours the fault, not mine. I would not care
To-day to cross your wishes ; for to-day
Fve griev'd you more than all my other subjects.

^Tenderly.
Let it then be your fancy. Leicester, hence
You see the free obsequiousness of love.
Which suffers that w^ich it cannot approve.

[Leicester prostratea himsdf before her^ and th4
curtain faUs,,^^

ACT in.

Scene I.

Tn a Park. — In the foreground Trees; in the background a

distant Prospect.

BY advances^ running from behind the Trees, Hannah

Kennedy foUovm slowly.

N. You hasten on as if endowed with wings —

^[;{Uinot follow you so swiftly — waj^
BY, Freedom returns I O let me enjoy it,-^

^t me be childish, — be thou childish with m^!

Freedom invites me I O let me employ it.

Skimming with winged step light o'er the lea ;

Have I escaped from this mansion of mourning?

Holds me no more the sad dungeon of care ?

Let me, with joy and with eagerness burning.

Drink in the free, the celestial air i

88 MARY STUART. [act hi.

E[en. /b, my dear Lady 1 but a very little

Ms your sad gaol extended ; you behold not

The wall that shuts us in ; these plaited tufts

Of trees hide from your sight the hated objedj
Mary. Thanks to these friendly trees, that hide from me

My prison walls, and flatter my illusion !

Happy I now may dream myself, and free ;

Why wake me from my dream's so sweet confusion?

The extended vault of heaven around me lies,

Free and unfetter' d range my wandering eyes
J O'er space's vast, immeasurable sea^

From where yon misty mountains rise on high

I can my empire's boundaries explore ;

And those light clouds which, steering southwards,

fly,

Seek the mild clime of France's genial shore.
Fast fleeting clouds I ye meteors that fly ;
Could I but with you sail through the sky I
Tenderly greet the dear land of my youth !
Here I am captive ! oppress' d by my foes.
No other than you may carry my woes,
Free thro' the ether your pathway is seen,
Ye own not the power of this tyrant Queen.
Ken. /Alas 1 dear Lady I You're beside yourself,

TPhis long-lost, long-sought freedom makes you rave.
Maby. Yonder' s a fisher returning to home ; —

Poor though it be, would he lend me his wherry,
Quick to congenial shores would I ferry.
Spare is his trade, and labor's his doom —
Bich would I freight his vessel with treasure,
Such a draught should be his as he never had seen,
Wealth should he find in his nets without measure,
Would he but rescue a poor captive Queen. )

sc. I.] MARY STUART. 89

Ken. frond, fruitless wishes I See you not from far,
How we are followed by observing spies? —
A dismal, barb'rous prohibition scares
Each sympathetic being from our path.

Maey. No, gentle Hannah ! Trust me, not in vain
My prison gates are openM. This small grace
Is harbinger of greater happiness.
No 1 I mistake not — 'tis the active hand
Of love to which I owe this kind indulgence ;
I recognize in this the mighty arn^
Of Leicester. They will by degrees expand
My prison ; will accustom me, through small,
To greater liberty, until at last
I shall behold the face of him whose hand
Will dash my fetters off, and that for ever.

Ken. O, my dear Queen I I cannot reconcile

These contradictions. 'Twas but yesterday
That they announced your death, and all at once,
To-day, you have such liberty. Their chains
Are also loos' d, as I have oft been told.
Whom everlasting liberty awaits.

IHunting-horna at a distance.

^^Y. Hear'st thou the bugle, so blithely resounding?

Hear*st thou its echoes through wood and through

plain ?
Oh, might I now, on my nimble steed bounding.
Join with the jocund, the frolicsome train 1

[HuTUing-homs again heard.
Again ! O this sad and this pleasing remembrance I
These are the sounds, which, so sprightly and clear.
Oft, when with music the hounds and the horn.
So cheerfully welcom'd the break of the morn.
On the heaths of the Highlands delighted my ear.y

90 MARY STUART. [act hi.

•

Scene IL
EfUer Paulet.

Paul. Well I have I acted right at last, my Lady ?
Do I for once, at least, deserve your thanks?

Mary. How I Do I owe this favor. Sir, to you ?

Paul. Why not to me ? I visited the Court,
And gave the Queen your letter.

Mary. Did you give it ?

fin v ery truth did you deliver i^
And is this freedom which I now enjoy
The happy consequence ?

Paulet (significantly). Nor that alone ;

Prepare yourself to see a greater still.

Mary. A greater still I What do you mean by that?

Paul. You heard the bugle-horns?

Mary (starting back with foreboding apprehension).

You frighten me —

Paul. The Queen is hunting in the neighborhood —

Mary. WTiat I

Paul. In a few moments she'll appear before you.

KENNEij^T^a8<em'njy towards Mary, and about to fall).

How fare you, dearest Lady ? — you grow pale.

Paul. How ? Is't not well? Was it not then your pray*r ?
'Tis granted now, before it was expected ;
You who had ever such a ready speech,
Now summon all your powers of eloquence,
The important time to use them now is come^

Mary. O, why was I not told of this before ? "— ^
Now I am not prepar'd for it— not now —
What, as the greatest favor, I besought.
Seems to me now most fearful : — Hannah, come.
Lead me into the house, till I collect
My spirits.

. III.] MARY STUART. 91

LUliET. Stay ; you must await her here.

Yes ! — I believe you may be well alarmed
To stand before your judge.

Scene III.

Enter the Eabl op Shbewsbuby.
aiBY. Tis not for that,

God I Far other thoughts possess me now.
O, worthy Shrewsbury I You come as though
You were an angel sent to me from heav*n.

1 cannot, will not see her. Save me, save me
From the detested sight !

:bew8buby. Your Majesty,

Command yourself, and summon all your courage;
*Tis the decisive moment of your fate.

LRY. For years I've waited, and prepared myself.

For this I've studied, weigh' d and written down
Each word within the tablet of my raem'ry.
That was to touch and move her to compassion.
Forgotten suddenly, effac'd is all,
And nothing lives within me at this moment
But the fierce, burning feeling of my wrongs.
My heart is tum'd to direst hate against her ;
f All gentle thoughts, all sweet, forgiving words
Are gone, and round me stand, with grisly mien,
The fiends of hell, and shake their snaky locks ! \

itEW. Command your wild, rebellious blood ; — constrain
The bitterness which fills your heart. No good
Ensues, when liatred is oppos'd to hate.
How much soe'er the inward struggle cost.
You must submit to stern necessity.
The pow*r is in her hand, be therefore humble.

AJtY. To her? .^J never can.

MARY STUART. [act hi.

REWSBURY. But pray, submit.

Speak with respect, with calmness I Strive to move

Her magnanimity ; insist not, now.

Upon your rights^ not now — 'tis not the season.

iRY. If Ah 1 woe is me ^ I've pray'd for my destruction.
And, as a curse to me, my prayer is heard.
We never should have seen each other — never I —
O, this can never, never come to good.
(Bather in love could fire and water meet.
The timid lamb embrace the roaring' tiger-
I have been hurt too grievously ; she hath
Too grievously oppress' d me ; — no atonement
Can make us friends !

[REWSBURY. First see her, face to face :

Did I not see how she was mov'd at reading
Your letter? How her eyes were drown' d in tears?
No— she is not unfeeling ; only place
More confidence in her. It was for this
That I came on before her, to entreat you
To be collected — to admonish you —

ARY {seizing his hand).

Oh, Talbot 1 you have ever been my friend.
Had I but stay'd beneath your kindly care !
They have, indeed, misused me, Shrewsbury.

IREW. Let all be now forgot, and only think

How to receive her with submissiveness.

ARY. Is Burleigh with her, too, my evil genius?

[REVJr. No one attends her but the Earl of Leicester.

ARY. Lord Leicester?

IREWSBURY. Fear not him ; it is not he

Who wishes your destruction ; — 'twas his work
That here the Queen hath granted you this meeting.

ARY. Ah I well I knew it.

sc. IV.] MARY STUART. 93

Shrewsbury. What?

Paulet. The Queen approaches.

[^They all draw aside; Mart al<me remains, lean-
ing on Kennedy.

Scene IV.

The same, Elizabeth, Earl of Leicester, and Retinue,

Elizabeth (to Leicester^.

What seat is that, my Lord ?
Leicester. 'Tis Fotheringay.

Elizabeth (to Shrewsbury).

My Lord, send back our retinue to London ;
The people crowd too eager in the roads.
We'll seek a refuge in this quiet park.

[Talbot sends the train atvay. She looks steadfastly
at Mary, as she speaks further vnth Paulet.
My honest people love me overmuch.
These signs of joy are quite idolatrous.
Thus should a God be honored, not a mortal.
Mary {who the whole time had leaned, almost fainting y on Ken-
nedy, rises now, and her eyes meet the steady piercing
look of Elizabeth ; she shudders and throws hersdf
again upon Kennedy's bosom).
O God I fi*om out these features speaks no heart.
Eliz. What lady 's that ?—

[A general embarrassed silence.
Leicester. You are at Fotheringay,

My Liege 1
Elizabeth (as if surprised, casting an angry look at Leicester).

W^ho hath done this, my Lord of Leicester ?
Leic. 'Tis past, my Queen ; — and now that Heav'n hath
led
Your foosteps hither, be magnanimous,

MARY STUART, [a

And let sweet pity be triamphant now.
£W. O royal mistress I yield to our entreaties ;

cast your eyes on this unhappy one,
Who stands dissolved in anguish.

[Mary collects herself ^ and begins to advance i
Elizabeth, stops shuddering at half vxjo^
action expresses the most violent internal st
^ZABETH. How, my

Which of you then announced to me a prison*
Bow*d down by woe ? I see a haughty one.
By no means humbled by calamity.
jIabt. Well, be it so : — to this will I submit.

Farewell high thought, and pride of noble n:

1 will forget my dignity, and all

My sufferings ; I will fall before her feet.
Who hath reduced me to this wretchedness.

[She turn^ toivards the Q
• The Voice-of Heav'n decides for you, my sisf
Your happy brows are now with triumph or
I bless the Power Divine, which thus hati
you. , ' ■ y i

But in your turn be merciful, my sister ;
Let me not lie before you thus disgraced ;
Stretch forth your hand, your royal hand,
Your sister from the depths of her distree

Elizabeth {stepping bax^k).

You are where it becomes you, Lady 8ti»
And thankfully I prize my God's protect
Who hath not suffer' d me to kneel a suj
Thus at your feet, as you now kneel at f

Mary {with inereoMng energy of feeling).

6hink on all earthly things, vicissitudi

5C. IV.] MARY STUART. 95

Oh l(tiiere are gods>ho punish hanghtj pride ;
Bespect jthem, honor them, /the dreadful ones)
Who thus before th j feet have humbled me I

^efore these strangers' eyes, dishonor not
Yourself in me : profane not, nor disgrace
The royal blood of Tudor. In my veins
It flows as pure a stream as in your ow^
O I for God's pity, stand not so estranged
And inaccessibleyQike some tall cliff,
Which the poor shipwrecked mariner in vain
Struggles to seize, and labors to embrac^
My all, my life, my fortune now depends
Upon the influence of my words and tears ;
That I may touch your Iieart, O ! set mine free.

/If you regard me with those icy looks.
My shuddering heart contracts itself, the stream
Of tears is dried, and frigid horror chains
The words of supplication in my boson).)
Elizabeth {cM and severe).

What would you say to me, my Lady Stuart ?
You wish'd to speak with me ; and I, forgetting
The Queen, and all the wrongs I have sustained,
Fulfil the pious duty of the sister,
And grant the boon you wished for of my presence.
Yet I, in yielding to the gen'rous feelings
Of magnanimity, expose myself
To rightful censure, that I stoop so low,
For well you know, you would have had me murder' d.
Mary. O I how shall I begin ? O, how shall I
So artfully arrange my cautious words
That they may touch yet not offend your heart ? —

; Strengthen my words, O Heav'n 1 and take from
them

96 MARY STUART. [acti

Whate'er might wound./ Alas I I cannot speak
In my own cause without impeaching you,

^]Did that most heavily ; I wish not so ;
You have not, as you ought, behav'd to me)
I am a Queen, like you, yet you have held me
Confin'd in prison. As a suppliant
I came to you, yet you in me insulted
The pious use of hospitality ;
Slighting in me the holy law of nations,
Immur'd me in a dungeon— tore from me
My friends and servants ; to unseemly want
I was exposed, and hurried to the bar
Of a disgraceful, insolent tribunal.
No more of this ; — in everlasting silence
Be buried all the cruelties I suffered 1
See — I will throw the blame of all on fate.

V 'Twas not your fault, no more than it was mine.
An evil spirit rose from the abyss.
To kindle in our hearts the flames of hate
By which our tender youth had been divided.
It grew with us, and bad, designing men
Fann'd with their ready breath the fatal fire :
Frantics, enthusiasts, with sword and dagger
Arm'd the uncalPd-for hand I This is the curs<
Of kings, that they, divided, tear the world
In pieces with their hatred, and let loose
The raging furies of all hellish strife I
No foreign tongue is now between us, sistei',
{^Approaching her confiderUlyj and withaflattei
tone.
Now stand we face to face ; now, sister, speak ;
Name but my crime, I'll fully satisfy you, —
Alas I had you vouchsaf'd to hear me then,

sc. IV.] MARY STUART. 97

When I 80 earnest sought to meet your eye,
It never would have come to this, nor would.
Here in this mournful place, have happened now
This so distressful, this so mournful meeting.
Eliz. Q^y better stars preserved me. I was wam'd,
And laid not to my breast the poisonous adder !
Accuse not fate I your own deceitful heart
It was, the wild ambition of your house ;
As yet no enmities had passM between us,
When your imperious uncle, the proud priest.
Whose shameless hand grasps at all crowns, attacked

me
With unprovoked hostility, and taught
You, but too docile, to assume my arms.
To vest yourself with my imperial title,
(4pd meet me in the lists in mortal strife :
What arms employed he not to storm my throne ?
The curses of the priests, the people's sword,
The dreadful weapons o'f religious frenzy ; —
Ev'n here in my own kingdom's peaceful haunts
He fanned the flames of civil insurrection^;<^
But God is with me, and the haughty priest
Has not maintained the field. The blow was aim'd
Full at my head, but yours it is which falls I
I'm in the hand of Heav'n. You never will
Exert so cruelly the pow'r it gives you.
Who shall prevent me? Say, did not your uncle
Set all the kings of Europe the axample
How to conclude a peace with those they hate ?
Be mine the school of Saint Bartholomew ;
What's kindred then to me, or nations' laws?
The Church can break the bands of ev'ry duty ;
It consecrates the regicide, the traitor )

98 MARY STUART. [act iii

I only practise what your priests have taught I
Say then, what surety can be offered me,
Should I magnanimously loose your bonds ?
Say, with what lock can I secure your faith,
Ijpkich by St. Peter* s keys cannot be open'd^
Force is my only surety ; no alliance
Can be concluded with a race of vipers.

Maby. O I this is but your wretched, dark suspicion I
For you have constantly regarded me
But as a stranger and an enemy.
, , , . . Had you 'declared me heir to your dominions,
^8 is my right, then gratitude and love
In me had fix'd for you a faithful friend
And kinswoman. >

Elizabeth. ^^"^ friendship is abroj^,

Your house is Papacy, the monk your brothevr
Name you my successor ! The treacherous snare !
That in my life you might seduce my people ;
And, like a sly Armida, in your net
Entangle all our noble English youth ;
That all might turn to the new rising sun,
And I—

Mabt. O, sister, rule your realm in peace

I give up ev'ry claim to these domains —
Alas I the pinions of my soul are lam'd;
Greatness entices me no more : your point
Is gained ; I am but Mary's shadow now —
My noble spirit is at last broke down
By long captivity : — you've done your worst
On me ; you have destroyed me in my bloom I
Now end your work, my sister ; — speak at length
The word, which to pronounce has brought yo
hither,

sc. IV.] MARY STUART. 99

For I will ne'er believe that you are come

To mock unfeelingly your hapless victim.

Pronounce this word ; — say, ** Mary, you are free :

You have already felt my pow'r, — leam now

To honor, too, my generosity."

Say this, and I will take my life, will take

My freedom, as a present from your hands.

One word makes all undone ; — I wait for it ; —

O let it not be needlessly delayed.

Wo^ to you if you end not with this word !

For should you not, like some divinity

Dispensing noble blessings, quit me now,

^ Then, sister, not for all this island's wealth,

" ■ For all the realms encircled by the deep,

Would I exchange my present lot for yours. / .

£ljz. And you confess at last that you are conquered :

Are all your schemes run out ? No more assassins

Now on the road? Will no adventurer

Attempt again for you the sad achievement ?

Yes, madam, it is over: — You'll seduce

No mortal more. The world has other cares ; —

None is ambitious of the dangerous honor

Of being your fourth husband : — You destroy /

Your wooers like your husbands.

Maby {starting angrily). Sister, sister I —

Grant me forbearance, all ye pow'rs of heav'n I

Elizabeth {regards her long^ with a look of proud contempt).
Those, then, my Lord of Leicester, are the charms
Which no man with impunity can view.
Near which no woman dare attempt to stand ?
In sooth, this honor has been cheaply gain'd ;
• She who to all is common may with ease
Become the common object of applause.

5^i"^'v^^

-1^

( .'"'

* •

MARY STUART.

TOO

Mabt. This is too much I

Elizabeth {latighing insultingly).

You show us now, inc
Your real face ; till now 'twas but the mai

Mary {burning with rage, yet dignified and n>oble).

My sins were human, and the faults of yo\
Superior force^n8led)me. '^MMfeHMi'
T^nicf^ on rnifH-ir^rihiti^'-i-^'TTx^'-*^

The worst of me is mown, and I can say
^Qiat I am better than^tj^e ^^me I bea^
k f( ^ Woe to you I when, ia time to come, the ^

With which jjby arch-hypocrisy has veiled
The raging names of lawless secret lust.
Virtue was not your portion from your mc

Of Anna Boleyn to the fatal block.

Shrewsbury (stepping between both Queens).

O I Heay'n I Alas, and must it come to th
Is this the moderation, the submission.
My Lady ?—

Mary. Moderation ! I've support

What human nature can support : farewel
Lamb-hearted resignation, passive patienc
Fly to thy native heaven ;3urst at length
Thy bonds, come forward Jrom thy dreary
In all thy fury, long-suppressed rancor I
Q ffl i thou, who to the anger' d basilisk
Impart'st the murderous glanc^^ O, arm h
With poison' d darts I

Shrewsbury. She is beside hersel

Exasperated, mad I My Liege, forgive he

»' r

$c. v.] MARY STUART. £oi

[Elizabeth, tfpeechless with angerj casta enraged
looks at Mary.

Leicester {in the most violent agitaiion; he seeks to lead

Elizabeth away.
Attend not to her rage I Away, away,
From this disastrous place ! '
}Sary {raising her voice), /)^^f ^ A bastard soils.

Profanes the English U»enei The An'roui^Britpns
Are cheated by a j uggler^mmmmmmfkim^fftire /" "^ '
Is false and painted, heart as w^ell as face f\ I
If right prevaird, you now would in the dust

[Elizabeth hastUy^ quits the stage; the Lcyrds
follow her in the greisfe^onMemation, /' »

Scene V. ^z

Mary, Kennedy.

Ken. What have you done ? She has gone hence in wrath.

All hope is over now !
Mary {still quite beside herself).

a Gone hence in wrath I

She carries death within her heart 1 I know it !

, ^Falling on Kennedy's hosmr^

\^w I am happy, Hannah I and, at last.

After whole years of sorrow and abasement.

One moment of victorious revenge !

A weight falls off my heart, a weight of mountains ;

I plung'd the steel in my oppressor's breast !
Ken. Unhappy Lady I Frenzy overcomes you.

Yes, you have wounded your invet' rate foe ;

'Tis she who wields the light'ning, she is Queen ;

You have insulted her before her minion. )

I'd "-"^^

I02 MARY STUART. [act hi. f

Mary. [ I have abas' d her before Leicester's eyes ;
NSe saw it, he was witness of my triumph.
How did I hurl her from her haughty height,
He saw it, and his presence strengthened me.

Scene VI.

Enter Mobtimeb.
Ken. O Sir I What an occurrence 1
MoBTiMER. I heard all —

{^Gives the nurse a sign to repair to her post, and
draws nearer; his whole appearance expresses
the utmost violence of passion.
Thine is the palm ; — thou trod'st her to the dust I —
Thou wast the Queen, she was the malefactor; —
I am transported with thy noble courage ; —
Yes 1 I adore thee ; like a Deity,
My sense is dazzled by thy heav'nly beams.
Maby (with vivacity and expectation).

You spoke with Leicester, gave my letter to him. —
My present, too ? — O speak. Sir.
Mobtimeb {beholding her with glowing looks).

How thy noble,
Thy royal indignation shone, and cast
A glory round thy beauty ; yes, by Heavens,
Thou art the fairest woman upon earth 1
Maby. Sir, satisfy, I beg you, my impatience ;

What says his Lordship ? Say, Sir, may I hope ?
MOBT. Who? — he? — he is a wretch, a very coward,

Hope nought from him ; despise him, and forget
him I
Maby. What say you ?

MoBTiHER. He deliver, and possess you I

Why let him dare it : — he I — he must with me

SC. VI.] MARY STUART. 103

mortal contest first deserve the prize !

Makv\ You gave him not my letter? Then, indeed,
My hopes are lost 1

MoBTiMEB. The coward loves his life.

Whoe'er would rescue you, and call you his,
Must boldly dare affront e'en death itself I

Mary. Will he do nothing for me ?

MoRTiMEB. Speak not of him.

What can he do ? What need have we of him ?
I will release you ; I alone.

Maby. Alas I

What pow*r have you ?

MoBTiMEB. Deceive yourself no more ;

Think not your case is now as formerly ;
The moment that the Queen thus quitted you.
And that your interview had ta'en this turn.
All hope was lost, each way of mercy shut.
Now deeds must speak, now boldness must decide ;
To compass all must all be hazarded ;
You must be free before the morning break.

Maby. What say you. Sir — to-night? — impossible I

MoBT. Hear what has been resolv'd : — I led my friends
Into a private chapel, where a priest
Heard our confession, and, for ev'ry sin
We had committed, gave us absolution ;
He gave us absolution, too, beforehand.
For ev'ry crime we might commit in future ;
He gave us, too, the final sacrament.
And we are ready for the final journey.

Mary. O ! what an awful, dreadful preparation I

MoRT. We scale, this very night, the castle's walls ;

The keys are in my pow'r; the guards we murder,
Then from thy chamber bear thee forcibly, l'

JIU4 .--V xia/\j\x oxo.

\ 1

Each living soul must die beneath our hands,

That none remain who might disclose the deed.
Maby. And Drury, Paulet, my two keepers, they

Would sooner spill their dearest drop of blood.
MoBT. They fall the very first beneath my steel.
Mary. What, Sir I Your uncle? Howl your second father t
MoBT. Must perish by my hand — I murder him I
Maby. O, bloody outrage I
MoBTiMEB. We have been absolved

Beforehand ; I may perpetrate the worst ; —

I can, I will do so I
Maby. O dreadful, dreadful I

Mobt. And should I be obliged to kill the Queen,

Pve sworn upon the host, it must be done I
Maby. No, Mortimer ; ere so much blood for me. —
Mobt. What is the life of all compared to thee,

And to my love ? The bond which holds the worl

Together may be loosed, a second deluge

Come rolling on, and swallow all creation !

Henceforth I value nothing ; ere I quit

My hold on thee, may earth and time be ended !
Maby {retiring),

Heav'ns ! Sir, what language, and what looks
They scare.

They frighten me I
MoBTiMEB (vdth unsteady looka, expressive of quiet madness).

Life's but a moment — death

Is but a moment too. Why I let them drag me

To Tyburn, let them tear me limb from limb,

With red-hot pincers —

[ Violently approcking her with extended/

If I clasp but thee

Within my arms, thou fervently belov'd 1

sc. vi.r MARY STUART. 105

Maby| Madman, avaunt I

MoBTiMEB. To rest upon this bosom,

To press upon this passion-breathing mouth —

Masy. Leave me, for God*s sake. Sir; let me go in —

MoKT. He is a madman who neglects to clasp

His bliss in folds that never may be loosed,

"When Heav'n has kindly giv*n it to his arms.

I will deliver you, and though it cost

A thousand lives, I do it : but I swear.

As God 's in Heaven, I will possess you too I

Maby. O I Will no God, no angel shelter me ?

Dread destiny I thou throw' st me, in thy wrath.
From one tremendous terror to the other I
"Was I then born to waken nought but frenzy ?
Do hate and love conspire alike to fright me ?

MoBT. Yes, glowing as their hatred is my love ;

They would behead thee, they would wound this

neck.
So dazzling white, with the disgraceful axe I
O I offer to the living god of joy
What thou must sacrifice to bloody hate I
Inspire thy happy lover with those charms
Which are no more thine own. Those golden locks
Are forfeit to the dismal pow'rs of death,
O I use them to entwine thv slave for ever I

Maby. Alas ! alas I what language must I hear I

My woe, my sufif 'rings should be sacred to you.
Although my royal brows are so no more.

MoBT. The crown is fallen from thy brows, thou hast
No more of earthly majesty. Make trial,
Kaise thy imperial voice, see if a friend,
If a deliverer will rise to save you. ->

Thy moving form alone remains, the high, )

io6 MARY STUART. [act iii;

f The godlike influence of thy heavenly beauty ;

•This bids me venture all, this arms my hand

With might, and drives me towards the headsman's
axe.
Mary. O I Who will save me from his raging madness?
SIoRT. Service that^s bold, demands a bold reward.

Why shed their blood the daring? Is not life

Life's highest good? And he a madman, who

Casts life away ? First will I take my rest

Upon the breast that glows with love's own fire 1

[-He presses her violently to his bosom.
Mart. Oh, must I call for help against the man

Who would deliver me I
Mortimer. Thou'rt not unfeeling,

The world ne'er censur'd thee for frigid rigor ;

The fervent pray'r of love can touch thy heart.

Thou mad'st the minstrel Kizzio blest, and gavest

Thyself a willing prey to Both well's arms.
Mary. Presumptuous man I
Mortimer. He was indeed thy tyrant,

Thou trembled' St at his rudeness, whilst thou
lov'd'st him ;

Well then — if only terror can obtain thee—

By the infernal gods !
Mary. Away — you're mad I

MoRT. I'll teach thee then before me too to tremble —
Kennedy (entering suddenly).

They're coming — they approach — the Park is fiU'd

With men in arms.
Mortimer {starting^ and catching at his sword),

1 will defend you — I —
Mary, O Hannah I save me, save me from his hands.

Where shall I find, poor suflfrer, an asylum? >

VIII.] MARY STUART. 107

O ! to what saint shall I address my prayers?
Here force assails me, and within is murder I

[She fiiea towards the house, Keknedt follows her.

ScEKE vn.

RTiMER, PAuiiET, aTid Drubt rush in in the ffreatest
consternation, — Attendants hasten over the Stage.

jIj. Shut all the portals — draw the bridges up —

BT. What is the matter, uncle?

jIjET. Where is the murderess?

Down with her, down into the darkest dungeon I
BT. What is the matter ? What has pass'd ?
jiiET. The Queen I

Accursed hand I Infernal machination !
BT. The Queen ! What Queen?
jii. What Queen?

The Queen of England ;—

She has been murder' d on the road to London.

[Hastens into the hoiLse,

Scene VIII.

Mortimer, soon after, 0' Kelly.

BTIMER {after a pavse).

Am I then mad ? Came not one running by
But now, and cried aloud, The-r-
No, no I I did but dream. A feverish fancy
Paints that upon my mind as true and real
Which but existed in my frantic thoughts.
Who's there ? It is O'Kelly. So dismayed I

[elly {rushing in).

Flee, Mortimer, O ! flee — for all is lost 1 j

RT. What, then, is lost ? y

io8 MARY STUART. [act hi.

O'KjKiLY. Stand not on question. Think

' On speedy flight.

Mortimer. What has occurred ?

0' Kelly. Sauvage,

That madman, struck the blow.

Mortimer. It is then true I

O'Kel. True, true— O ! save yourself.

Mortimer (exultingly).

The Queen is murdered —
And Mary shall ascend the English throne !

O'Kel. Is murdered ! Who said that?

Mortimer. Yourself.

0' Kelly. She lives,

And I, and you, and all of us are lost.

MoRT. She lives I

0* Kelly. The blow was badly aim'd, her cloak

Received it. Shrewsbury disarmed the murderer.

MoRT. She lives I

0' Kelly. She lives to whelm us all in ruin ;

Come, they surround the park already ; come —

MoRT. Who did this frantic deed ?

0' Kelly. It was the monk

From Toulon, whom you saw immers'd in thought,
As in the chapel the Pope's bull was read,
Which poured anathemas upon the Queen.
He wish'd to take the nearest, shortest way
To free, with one bold stroke, the church of God,
And gain the crown of martyrdom:— he trusted
His purpose only to the priest, and struck
The fatal blow upon the road to London.

Mortimer (after a long silence).

Alas I a fierce destructive fate pursues thee,
Unhappy one 1 Yes — now thy death is fix'd ; j

sc. II.] MARY STUART. 109

Thy veiy angel has prepaid thy fall I
(yKEL. Say, whither will you take your flight ? I go

To hide me in the forests of the north.
MoBT. Fly thither, and may Grod attend your flight ;

I will remain, and still attempt to save

My love ; if not, my hed shall be upon her grave.

{^Exeunt al different sides,

ACT IV.

Scene I. — Antechamber,
)UNT AuBESPiNE, the Earls of Kent and Leicister.

How fares her Majesty ? My Lords, you see me

Still stunned, and quite beside myself for terror.

How happened it? How was it possible

That, in the midst of this most loyal people —
Leic. The deed was not attempted by the people.

The assassin was the subject of your king,

A Frenchman.
AuBESPnra. Sure a lunatic.

LEia A Papist,

Count Aubespine I

Scene II.
^ter Burleigh in conversation with Davison.

Burleigh. . Sir, let the death-warrant

Be instantly made out, and pass the seal ;

Then let it be presented to the Queen ;

Her Majesty must sign it. Hasten, Sir,

We have no time to lose.
Davison. It shall be done. [ExiL

AuB. My Lord High Treasurer, my faithful heart

Shares in the just rejoicings of the realm. ^

no MARY STUART. [act iv.

Prais'd be almighty Heav*n, who hath averted

Assassination from our much-lov*d Queen I
£uB. Prais d be his name, who thus hath turned to scorn

The malice of our foes I
AuBESPiNK May Heav'n confound

The perpetrator of this cursed deed I
Bub. Its perpetrator and its base contriver I
AuB. Please you, my Lord, to bring me to the Queen,

That I may lay the warm congratulations

Of my imperial master at her feet.
Bub. There is no need of this.
AuBESFiKE {offidoitdy). My Lord of Burleigh,

I know my duty.
BuBLEiGH. Sir, your duty is

To quit, and that without delay, this kingdom.
AuBESPiNE {stepping back with surprise).

What I How is this?
Burleigh. The sacred character

Of an Ambassador to-day protects you,

But pot to-morrow.
AuBESPiNE. What's my crime?

Burleigh. Should I

Once name it, there were then no pardon for it.
AuB. I hope, my Lord, my charge's privilege —
Bub. Screens not a traitor.
Leicester and Kent. Traitor I How ?

AuBESPiNE. My Lord,

Consider well —
Burleigh. Your passport was discovered

In the assassin's pocket.
Kent. Bighteous Heaven 1

AuB. Sir, many passports are subscribed by me,

I cannot know the secret thoughts of men.

.III.] MARY STUART. ill

JIL He in your house confessed, and was absolved —

jk. My house is open —

jBiiHiGH. To owr enemies.

JB. I claim a strict inquiry —

jBiiEiOH. Tremble at it —

7B. My monarch in my person is insulted,

He will annul the marriage contract
JBIiEIGH. ThoX

My royal mistress has annulPd already ;

England will not unite herself with France.

My Lord of Kent, I give to you the charge

To see Count Aubespine embarked in safety.

The furious populace has storm' d his palace,

Where a whole arsenal of arms was found ; -

Should he be found, they'll tear him limb from
limb.

Conceal him till their fury is abated, —

You answer for his life.
JBESPINE. I go — I leave

This kingdom, where they sport with public
treaties.

And trample on the laws of nations. Yet

My monarch, be assured, will vent his rage

In direst vengeance I
rBLEiOH. Let him seek it here.

{Exewiii Kent aivd. AubespinhI

Scene III.

(Leicester, Burleigh.
And thus you loose, yourself, the knot of union
"Which you officiously, uncalPd for, bound !
You have deserved but little of your country,
My Lord ; this trouble was superfluou^

K^^

112 ,^ , : ,, / f . ^ y , MAR^ ^UART: [act r

Bub. \^Mj aim was good, though fate declared against i
Happy is he who has so fair a conscience !

Leic. Well know we the mysterious mien of Burleigh,
When he is on the hunt for deeds of treason.
Now you are in your element, my Lord ;
A monstrous outrage has heen just committed,
And darkness veils, as yet, its perpetrators : —
Now will a court of inquisition rise ;
Each word, each look be weighed ; men's vei

thoughts
Be summoned to the bar. You are, my Lord,
The mighty man, the Atlas of the state,
All England's weight lies upon your shoulders.

Bur. In you, my Lord, I recognize my master ;
For such a victory as your eloquence
Has gain'd I cannot boast -^

Leicester. What means your lordshk

Bub. You were the man who knew, behind my baclE^
To lure the Queen to Fotheringay castle.

Leic. Behind your back ! When did I fear to act
Before your face ?

BuBLEiGH. You led her Majesty?

O, no — you led her not — it was the Queen
Who was so gracious as to lead you thither.

Leic. What mean you, my Lord, by that ?

BuRLEiOH. /The noble pa

You forc'd the Queen to play ! The gfetious triumj
Which you prepar' d for her I Too gracious princess
So shamelessly, so wantonly to mock
Thy unsuspecting goodness, to betray thee
So pitiless to thy exulting foe !
This, then, is the magnanimity, the grace ^
7 4 ^liich suddenly possess' d you. in the council!

■;.:.'■ '■/* -iO-'^ f^'^t ^J^^' J / }

^ IV.] MARY STUART. 113

^The Stuart is for this so despicable,
So weak an enemy, that it would scarce
Be worth the pains to stain us with her blood.
A specious plan I and sharply pointed too ;
'Tis only pity this sharp point is broke^

!IC. Unworthy wretch 1 — this instant foUow^e,
And answer at the throne tliis insolence.

FR. You'll find me there, my Lord ; and look you well
That tiiere your eloquence desert you not. [ExiU

Scene IV.

Leicesteb, alone; then Mortimer.

ic. I am detected I All my plot's disclosed I
How has my evil genius tracked my steps I
Alas 1 if he has proofs, if she should learn
That I have held a secret correspondence
With her worst enemy, how crimuial
Shall I appear to her 1 How false will then
My counsel seem, and all the fatal pains
I took to lure the Queen to Fotlieringay !
I've shamefully betray' d, I have exposed her
To her detested enemy's revilings !

I never, never can she pardon that.
All will appear as if premeditated.
The bitter turn of this sad interview.

The triumph and the tauntings of her rival ;
Yes, e'en the murd'rous hand, which had prepar'd
A bloody, monstrous, unexpected fate ;
All, all will be ascribed to my suggestions !

1 see no rescue !— nowhere — Ha I Who comes?

[Mortimer enterSy in the most violent uneasiness,

Jif ^

^U ,,^i^

and looks with apprehensipn round him.

f/ f.

114 MARY STUART. [activ.

MoKT. Lord Leicester ! Is it you ? Are we alone ?
Leic. Ill-fated wretch, away I What seek you here ?
MoBT. They are upon our track — upon yours, too.

Be vigilant I
Leicester. Away, away I

Mortimer. They know

That private conferences have been held

At Aubespine s —
Leicester. What's that to me 7

Mortimer. They know, too^

That the assassin —
Leicester. That is your affair —

Audacious wretch I to dare to mix my name

In your detested outrage : go ; defend

Your bloody deeds yourself I
Mortimer. But only hear me.

Leicester {violendy^ enraged).

Down, down to hell I Why cling you at my heel»

Like an infernal spirit I I disclaim you —

I know you not — I make no common cause

With murderers I
Mortimer. You will not hear me, then I

I came to warn you — you, too, are detected.
Leic. Howl What?
Mortimer. Lord Burleigh went to Fotheringay

Just as the luckless deed had been attempted.

Search' d with strict scrutiny the Queen's apart-
ments,

And found there —
Leicester. What ?

Mortimer. A letter, which the Queen

Had just addressed to you —
Leicester. Unhappy woman I —

IV.] MARY STUART. 11$

RT. In which she calls on you to keep fouT word,
Benews the promise of her hand, and mentions
The picture which «he sent you.
CESTER. Death and hell I

RT. Lord Burleigh has the letter—
CESTER. I am lost I

{^DuHng the following gpeech of Mortimeb,
Leicester goes up and dovm, aa in despair,
RT. Improve the moment; be beforehand with him,
And save yourself —save her I An oath can clear
Your fame ; contrive excuses to avert
The worst / am disarmed, can do no more ;
My comrades are dispersed — to pieces fall'n
Our whole confederacy. For Scotland I,
To rally such new friends as there I may.
*Tis now your turn, my Lord— try what your

weight,
What bold assurance can effect.
CESTEB {stops suddenly y as if resolved). I will —

[ [(roea to the door, opens it, and calls.

,»<; Who waits without? Guards ! seize this wretched
traitor I

[To the Officer f who comes in with soldiers.
And guard him closely. A most dreadful plot
Is brought to light — 1*11 to her Majesty.
EtTiMEB (stands for a time petrified with wonder; collects him^
sdf soon^ and follows Leicester vrith his looks ea>
pressive of the m^st sovereign contempt).
Infamous wretch 1 — But I deserve it all.
Who told me then to trust this practised villain ?
Now o'er my head he strides, and on my fall
He builds the bridge of safety !— be it so,
Go, save thyself — my lips are seaPd for ever ;^

Ii6 MARY STUART. [act]

1 will not join e*en thee in my destruction —
I would not own thee, no, not e'en in death ;
Life is the faithless villain's only good 1

[_To the Officer of the Guard f who steps forwarc
seize him.
What wilt thou, slave of tyranny, with me ?
I laugh to scorn thy threat' nings — I am free.

[Dravdng a dagt
Oppic. He's arm'd ; — rush in, and wrest his weapon fr

him.

[^They rush upon Aim, he defends hirm
Mortimer {raising his voice).

And in this latest moment shall my heart
Expand itself in freedom, and my tongue
Shall hreak this long constraint. Curse and

struction
Light on you all, who have betray' d your faith,
Your God, and your true Sov' reign I Who, ali
To earthly Mary false as to the heav'nly.
Have sold your duties to this bastard Queen I
Offic. Hear you these blasphemies ? Bush forward— se

him I
MoRT. Beloved Queen ! I could not set thee free ;
Yet take a lesson from me how to die.
Mary, thou holy one, O ! pray for me I
And take me to thy heav'nly home on high I
IStabs himself f and faHs into the arms of the Ova

Scene V.

The Apartment of the Queen,

Elizabeth, with a letter in her hand, Burleiqh.

Euz. To lure me thither ! trifle with me thus !

The traitor ! Thus to lead me, as in triumph,

:.v.] MARY STUART. 117

Into the presence of his paramour I

O, Burleigh I ne'er was woman so deceived.

fJB. I cannot yet conceive what potent means.
What magidThe exerted, to surprise
My Queen's acciistomM prudence.

LIZABETH. O, I die

For shame I How must he laugh to scorn my weak-
^^ ness I

vlJhought to humble Aer, and was myself
The object of her bitter scornj)

FBLEiGH. CSy thig/

You see how faithfully I counsell'd you.

iz. O, I am sorely punish' d, that I turned

My ear from your wise counsels ; yet I thought
I might confide in him. Who could suspect,
Beneath the vows of faithfullest devotion,
A deadly snare ? In whom can I confide.
When he deceives me ? He, whom I have made
The greatest of the great, and ever set
The nearest to my heart, and in this court
Allow' d to play the master and the king.

EL Yet in that very moment he betray' d you,
Betray'd you to this wily Queen of Scots.

[Z. O, she shall pay me for it with her life I
Is the death-warrant ready ?

RiiEiGH. '.Tis prepar'd

As you commanded.

[ZABETH. She shall surely die —

He shall behold her fall, and fall himself !
I've driven him from my heart. No longer love,
Kevenge alone is there : and high as once
He stood, so low and shameful be his fall I
Ql monument of my severity^

Xi8 MARY STUART. [xaiv.

[As once the proud example of my weakness.
Conduct him to the Tower ; let a commission
Of peers be nam'd to try him. He shall feel
In its full weight the rigor of the la^^

Bur. But he will seek thy presence ; he will clear—

Eliz. How can he clear himself? Does not the letter
Convict him ? O, his crimes are manifest I

Bur. But thou art mild and gracious I His appearance,
His powerful presence —

Elizabeth. I will never see him ;

No never, never more. Are orders giv'n
Not to admit him, should he come ?

Burleigh. 'Tis done.

Page {entering).

The Earl of Leicester I

Elizabeth. The presumptuous man I

I will not see him. Tell him that I will not.

Page. I am afraid to bring my Lord this message,
Nor would he credit it.

Elizabeth. And I have raised him

So high that my own servants tremble more
At him than me !

Burleigh {to the Page). The Queen forbids his presence.

^ IThe Page retires slotdy-

iElizabeth {after a pause).

^- Yet, if it still were possible ? If he

Could clear himself? Might it not be a snare

Laid by the cunning one, to sever me

From my best friend — the ever treach'rous harloti

She might have writ the letter but to raise

Pois'nous suspicion in my heart, to ruin

The man she hates. ^

Burleigh. Yet, gracious Queen, consider-^

VI.] MARY STUART. 119

ScacNE VI.
[CESTEB {bursts open the door with violence, and enters with

an imperious air).
:c. Fain would I see the shameless man who dares

Forbid me the apartments of my Queen I —
[ZABETH {avoiding his sight).

Audacious slave !
:C£ST£B. To turn me from the door I

If for a Burleigh she be visible,

She must be so to me !
ELLEIGH. My Lord, you are

Too bold, without permission to intrude —
:c. My Lord, you are too arrogant, to take

The lead in these apartments. What I Permission I

I know of none who stands so high at court

As to permit my doings, or refuse them.

l^Hunibly approaching Elizabeth.

'Tis from my Sovereign's lips alone that / —
[ZABETH {vnthovt looking at him).

Out of my sight, deceitful, worthless traitor I
[C. *Ti8 not my gracious Queen I hear, but Burleigh,

My enemy, in these ungentle words.

To my imperial mistress I appeal ;

Thou hast lent him thine ear ; I ask the like.
[Z. ^eak, shameless. wretch I Increase your crime —

deny it —
[C. Dismiss this troublesome intruder first.

Withdraw, my Lord ; it is not of your office

To play the third man here : between the Queen

And me there is no need of witnesses.

Eetire —

[ZABETH {to ^QuRLEIGH).

Hemain, my Lord ; 'tis my command, i

I20 MARY STUART. [act iv.

Leic. Q^hat has a third to do 'twixt thee and me ?
I have to clear myself before my Qaeen,
My worshippM Queen ; I will maintain the rights.
Which thou hast given me : these rights are sacred.^
And I msist upon it that my Lord

ELizABE5y;ln?ly,Thi8 haughty tone befits you well.
Leic. It well befits me ; am not I the man,

The happy man, to whom thy gracious favor

Has giv'n the highest station? this exalts me

Above this Burleigh, and above them all.
'hy heart imparted me this rank, and what
'hy favor gave, by Heavens I will maintain

At my life's hazard ! Let him go, it needs

Two moments only to exculpate me.
Eliz. Think not with cunning words to hide the truth.
Leic. . That fear from him, so voluble of speeq^
' ^ ^ *fBiii whkpl say is to the heart address^oT
' And I will justify what I have dar'd

To do, confiding in thy generous favor,

Before thy heart alone. I recognize

No other jurisdiction.
Elizabeth. Base deceiver I

*Tis this, e'en this, which above all condemns you.

My Lord, produce the letter. [2b Burleigh.

Burleigh. Here it is.

Leicester {running over the letter without losing his presence oj
mind),

Tis Mary Stuart's hand —
Elizabeth. Bead, and be dumb I ^

Leicester {having read it quiedy).

Appearance is against me ; yet I hope

I shall not by appearances be judg'd.

< ' •" ^

sc. VI.] MARY STUART. I2i

Eiiiz. Can you deny your secret correspondence

With Mary ? — that she sent and you receiv'd
Her picture, that you gave her hopes of rescue ?

Leig. It were an easy matter, if I felt

That I were guilty of d crime, to challenge
The testimony of my enemy :
Yet bold is my good conscience. I confess
That she hath said the truth.

Elizabeth. Well then, thou wretch 1

Bur. His own words sentence him —

Elizabeth. Out of my sight I

Away I Conduct the traitor to the tow'r 1

Leic. I am no traitor ; it was wrong, I own,

To make a secret of this step to thee ; —
Yet pure was my intention, it was done
To search into her plots and to confound them.

Eliz. Vain subterfuge I

Bur. QtP^ ^^ y^^ think, my Lord —

Leic. Fve playM a dangerous game, I know it well.
And none but Leicester dare be bold enough
To risk it at this court. The world must know
How I detest this Stuart, and the rank
Which here I hold, my monarch's confidence,
With which she honors me, must sure suffice
To overturn all doubt of my intentions.
Well may the man thy favor above all
Distinguishes, pursue a daring course
To do his duty !.^

Burleigh. If the the course was good.

Wherefore conceal it ?

Leicester. Yon are us'd, my Lord,

To prate before you act — the very chime
Of your own deeds. This is your manner. Lord.

;

:22 MARY STUART. [act iv.

But mine is first to act, and then to speak.

5uR. Yes ; now you speak, because you must.

jEICESTEB {measuring him proudly and disdainfvUy with hi9
eyes).

And you
Boast of a wonderful, a mighty action,
That ^ou have sav'd the Queen, have snatched away
The mask from treachery : — all is known to you;
You think, forsooth, that nothing can escape
Your penetrating eyes. Poor, idle boaster I
In spite of all your cunning, Mary Stuart
Was free to day, had /not hindered it.

5uR. How? youf

jEICESTER. Yes J, my Lord : the Queen confided

In Mortimer ; she open'd to the youth
Her inmost soul ! Yes, she went further still ;
She gave him, too, a secret bloody charge,
Which Paulet had before refus'd with horror.
Say, is it so, or not ?

[The Queen and Burleigh look at one another
with astonishment.

tuRLEiQH. Whence know you this ?

iEic. Nay, is it not a fact ? Now answer me 1

And where, my Lord, where were your thousand

eyes.
Not to discover Mortimer was false ?
That he, the Guise's tool, and Mary's creature,
A raging Papist, daring fanatic,
Was come to free the Stuart and to murder
The Queen of England I

!lizabeth (vdth the utmost astonishment).

How I This Mortimer?

<Eic. 'Twas he through whom our correspondence pass'd ;

,vi.] MARY STUART. 123

This plot it was which introduced me to him.
This very day she was to have been torn
From her confinement ; he, this very moment,
Disclosed his plan to me : I took him prisoner
And gave him to the guard, when in despair
To see his work overturn' d, himself unmasked,
He slew himself !

IZABETH. O, I indeed have been

Deceived beyond example, Mortimer I

R. This happenM then but now ? Since last we parted ?

ic. ©ar my own sake I must lament the deed —
That he was thus cut off. His testimony,
Were he alive, had full clear d my fame.
And freed me from suspicion : — 'twas for this
That I surrender^ him to open justice.
I thought to choose the most impartial course
To verify and fix my innocence
Before the world/

BiiEiGH. He kilPd himself, you say I

Is't so? Or did youckill him ?

ICBSTER. (i ^ Vile suspicion I

Hear but the guard who s^eiz'd him.

\H.e goes to the door^ and caUa
Ho 1 Who waits?
[^Enter the Officer of the gvwd.
Sir, tell the Queen how Mortimer expir'd.

Fic. I was on duty in the palace porch.

When suddenly my Lord threw wide the door
And ordered me to take the knight in charge,
Denouncing him a traitor : upon this
He grew enragM, and with most bitter curses
Against our sov' reign, and our lioly faith.
He drew a dagger, and before the guards

124 MARY STUART. [activ.

Could hinder his intention, plung'd the steel
Into his heart, and fell a lifeless corpse.

Leic. 'Tis well ; you may withdraw. Her Majesty
Has heard enough.

{_The Officer tuUhdraws,

Elizabeth. O ! what a. deep ahyss

Of monstrous deeds !

Leicester. ^^^o was it then, my Queen,

Who sav'd you? Was it Burleigh? Did he know
The dangers which surrounded you ? Did he
Avert them from your head ? Your faithful Leicester
Was your good an gel ^

BuELEiGH. This same Mortimer

Died most conveniently for you, my Lord.

Eliz. What I should say T know not. I believe you,
• And I believe you not : — I think you guilty,
And yet I think you not. A curse on her
Who caus'd me all this anguish I

Leicester. She must die—

I now myself consent unto her death.
I formerly ad vis' d you to suspend
The sentence, till some arm should rise anew
On her behalf ; the case has happen'd now,
And I demand her instant execution.

Bub. You give this counsel ? You f

Leicester. ^ . (" ; ' ., ^&owe^er it wound

My feelings tO'be forc'd to this extreme.
Yet now I see most clearljj^ now I feel
That the Queen's welfare asks this bloody victim.
\Jis my proposal, therefore, that the writ
Be drawn at once, to fix the execution^

Burleigh (to the Queen).

Since then his lordship shows such earnest zeal,

sc. VII.] MARY STUART. 125

Such loyalty, 'twere well were he appointed
To see the execution of the sentence.
Ieic. Who ? If

BuKLEiGH. Yes, you; you surely ne'er could find

A better means to shake off the suspicion
Which rests upon you still, than to command
Her, whom His said you love, to be beheaded.

Elizabeth (looking steadfastly at Leicest£b).

My Lord advises well. So be it, then I

Xmc. It were but fit that my exalted rank

Should free me from so mournful a commission,
Which would indeed, in ev'ry sense, become
A Burleigh better than the Earl of Leicester.
The man who stands so near the royal person
Should have no knowledge of such fatal scenes :
But yet, to prove my zeal, to satisfy
My Queen, I waive my charge's privilege,
And take upon myself this hateful duty.

Eliz. Lord Burleigh shall partake this duty with you.

[ To Burleigh.
So be the warrant instantly prepared.

[BuBLEiGH withdraws ; a tumult heard without.

Scene VII.

The Queen, the EARii of Kent.

Eliz. J How now, my Lord of Kent? What uproar's this

^^ hear without ?
E^BNT. My Queen, it is thy people,

Who, round the palace rang'd, impatiently
Demand to see their so v' reign.
Elizabeth. What' s their wish ?

Kent. A panic terror has already spread •>,y

Through London that thy life has been attempted J

126 j^ MARY STUART. [acti\

That murderers commission'd from the Pope
Beset thee ; that the Catholics have sworn
To rescue from her prison Mary Stuart,
And to proclaim her Queen. Thy loyal people
Believe it, and are mad — her head alone
Can quiet them— ^this day must be her last.

Eliz. How I Will they force me, then ?

Kent. They are resolv'd

Scene VIIL

JSnter Burleigh wnd Davison, with a 'paper.

Eliz. Well, Davison?
Day. (approaches earnestly).

Your orders are obey'd.
My Queen —
Elizabeth. What orders. Sir?

[^Aa she is ahovi to take the paper, she shvdde
and starts back,

O God I-
BuBLEiQH. Obey

Thy people's voice ; it is the voice of God.
Elizabeth (irresolute, as if in contest with herself),

O my good Lord, who will assure me now
That what I hear is my whole people's voice.
The voice of all the world 1 Ah I much I fear
That, if I now should listen to the wish
Of the wild multitude, a different voice
Might soon be heard ; — and that the very men
Who now by force oblige me to this step,
May, when 'tis taken, heavily condemn me

•)

:.] MARY STUART. 127

Scene IX.

' the Earl of Shrewsbury (who enters with great emo'

tion).
Hold fast, my Queen, they wish to hurry thee ;

^Seeing Davison with the paper^
Be firm-^r is it then decided? — is it
Indeed decided ? I behold a paper
Of ominous appearance in his hand ;
Liet it not at this moment meet thy eyes^
My Queen I^

'**^ood Shrewsbury I I am constrained —

;w. Who can constrain thee? Thou art Queen of Eng-
land,
Here must thy Majesty assert its rights ;
Command those savage voices to be silent,
Who take upon themselves to put constraint
Upon thy royal will, to rule thy judgment.
Fear only, blind conjecture, moves thy people ;
Thou artfihyself^eside thyself ;^hy wrath
Is grievously provoked : thou arnSut mortal,
And canst not thus ascend the judgment seat.
Judgment has long been past. It is not now
The titne to speak, but execute the sentence.

? (who, on Shrewsbury's entry , had retired, comes hcbck).
The tumult gains apace ; there are no means
To moderate the people.

^.beth {to Shrewsbury). See, my Lord,

How they press on. )

WSBURY. l^onl^ ask a respite;

K. single word traced by thy hand decides
The peace, the happiness of all thy life I
Thou hast for years considered, let not then
A moment ruPd by passion hurry thee-^

128 MARY STUART. [activ.

But a short respite — recollect thyself I
Wait for a moment of tranquillity.

Burleigh {moleTUly),

Wait for it— pause — delay — till flames of fire
Consume the realm ; until the flfth attempt
Of murder he successful I God, indeed,
Hath thrice deliver'd thee ; thy late escape
Was marvellous, and to expect again
A miracle would be to tempt thy God I

Sheew. That God, whose potent hand hath thrice preserv'd
thee.
Who lent my aged feeble arm the strength
To overcome the madman : — he deserves
Thy confidence. I will not raise the voice
Of justice now, for now is not the time ;
Thou canst not hear it in this storm of passion.
Yet listen but to this 1 Thou tremblest now
Before this living Mary — tremble rather
Before the murder d, the beheaded Mary.
•She will arise, and quit her grave, will range
A fiend of discord, an avenging ghost
Around thy realm, and turn thy people's hearts
From their allegiance. For as yet the Britons
Hate her, because they fear her ; but most surely
Will they avenge her when she is no more.
They will no more behold the enemy
Of their belief, they will but see in her
The much-lamented issue of their kings
A sacrifice to jealousy and hate.
Then quickly shalt thou see the sudden change
When thou hast done the bloody deed ; then go
Through London, seek thy people, which till now
Around .thee£w.arm'd delighted ; thou shalt see

IX.] MARY STUART. 129

Another England, and another people ;
For then no more the godlike dignity
Of justice, which subdued thy subjects' hearts,
Will beam around thee. Fear, the dread ally
Of tyranny, will shudd'ring march before thee,
And make a wilderness in ev'ry street —
The last, extremest crime thou hast committed,
What head is safe, if the^, {(.nointed fall ?
z. Ah I Shrewsbury, yoti sav'd my life, you turn'd
The murderous steel aside ; why let you not
The dagger take its course ?(then all these broils
Would have been ended ; then, released from doubt.
And free from blame, I should be now at rest
In my still peaceful grave. In very sooth,
Fm weary of my life, and of my crown.
If Heav'n decree that one of us two Queens
Must perish, to secure the other's life —
And sure it must be so — why should not I
Be she who yields ? My people must decide ;
I give them back the Sovereignty they gave.
God is my witness that^ have not liv'd
For my own sake, buTfor my people's welfare.
If they expect from this false, fawning Stuart,
The younger sovereign, more happy days,
I will descend with pleasure from the throne,
Again repair to Woodstock's quiet bowers.
Where once I spent my unambitious youth ;
Where, far remov'd from all the vanities
Of earthly power, I found within myself
True Majesty. I am not made to rule —
A ruler should be made of sterner stuff :
m^ heart is soft and tender. I have govern' d
These many years, this kingdom happily,

6* IX'i

I30 MARY STUART. [act

But then I only needed to make happy^
Now comes my first important regal duty,
And now I feel how weak a thing I am.

Bub. Now by mine honor, when I hear my Queen,
My royal liege, speak such unroyal words,
I should betray my office, should betray
My country, were I longer to be silent
dou say you love your people 'hove yourself.
Now prove it. Choose not peace for your own hea
And leave your kingdom to the storms of disco re
Think on the church. Shall, with this Pap

Queen,
The ancient superstition be renewed?
The monk resume his sway, the Roman legate
In pomp march hither ; lock our churches up.
Dethrone our monarchs ? I demand of you
The souls of all your subjects— as you now
Shall act, they all are sav'd, or all are los^
Here is no time for mercy ; — to promote*^
Your people's welfare is your highest duty.
If Shrewsbury has sav'd your life, then I
Will save both you and England — that is more I

Eliz. I would be left alone. No consolation.

No counsel, can be drawn from human aid
In this. con juncture : — I will lay my doubts
Before the Judge of all : — I am resolved
To act as He shall teach. Withdraw, my Lords
[ To Davison, who lays the paper on the ial
You, Sir, remain in waiting— close at hand.

[ The Lords withdraw; Shrewsbury aJUme stai
for a few moments before the Queen, regards
significantiyj then withdraws slowly, and with
expression of the deepest anguish.

c] MARY STUART. 131

Scene X.

Elizabeth alone,

! servitude of popularity I
Disgraceful slavery I How weary am I
Of flattering this idol, which my soul
Despises in its inmost depth ! O I' when
Shall I once more be free upon this throne ?

1 must respect the people's voice, and strive
To win the favor of the multitude,

(And please the fancies of a mob, whom nought
But jugglers' tricks delight. O call not him
A king who needs must please the world : His he
Alone who in his actions does not heed
The fickle approbation of mankind.
Have I then practised justice all my life
Shunn'd each despotic deed ; have I done this
Only to bind my hands against this first,
This necessary act of violence?
My own example now condemns myself I
Had I but been a tyrant, like my sister.
My predecessor, I could fearless then
Have shed this royal blood : — but am I now
Just by my own free choice ? No — I was forced
By sterti necessity to use this virtue ;
Necessity, which binds e'en monarchs* willsy
Surrounded by my foes, my people's love
Alone supports me on my envied throne.
<4P Europe's pow'rs confederate to destroy me ;
The Pope's inveterate decree declares me
Accurst and excommunicated. France
Betrays me with a kiss, and Spain prepares
At sea a fierce exterminating waA

132 MARY STUART. [act iv.

Thus stand I, in contention with the worjj,
A poor defenceless woman : I must seek
To veil the spot in my imperial birth
By which my father cast disgrace upon me :
In vain with princely virtues would I hide it :
The el«tipns hatred of my enemies
^ t C / ! Uncovers it, and places Mary Stuart

A threatening fiend before me evermore I

[ Walking up and down, with quick and agitated steps.

no I this fear must end. Her head must fall I

1 vdll have peace. She is the very fury
Of my existence ; a tormenting demon,
Which destiny has fasten' d on my soul.
Wherever I had planted me a comfort,

A flatt'ring hope, my way was ever crossed

By this infernal viper I She has torn

My fav'rite, and my destined bridegroom from me.

The hated name of ev'ry ill I feel

Is Mary Stuart — were but she no more

On earth, I should be free as mountain air.

[^Standing stilL
v^Wjth what disdain did she look down on me.
As if her eye should blast me like the lightning I
Poor, feeble wretch I I bear far other arms.
Their touch is mortal, and thou ait no more)

[^Advancing to the table hastily^ and taking the pen,
Al am a bastard, am I ? Hapless wretch,
1 am but so the while thou liv'st and breath* st
[Thy death will make my birth legitimate.]
The moment I destroy thee, is the doubt
// . '^''-7 I^stroy'd which hangs o'er my imperial right
^ As sgon as England has no other choice,

^ ' * 3fy ID other* s honor and my >ivc\\\x\^\. XfvxiXK^Vi&V

• /'*"'•< — ^/> /f /fff'^ - ;' W f.

XI.] MARY STUART. 133

[^She signs with resolution ; lets her pen then /ally
and steps back with an expression of terror,-^
After a pavse she rings.

Scene XI.
Elizabeth, Davison.

z. Where are their Lordships ?

nsoN. They are gone to quell

The tumult of the people. The alarm
Was instantly appeas'd, when they heheld
The Earl of Shrewsbury. That's he I exclaimed
A hundred voices — that's the man — he sav'd
The Queen ; hear him — the bravest man in England t
And now began the gallant Talbot, blam'd
In gentle words the people's violence,
And used such strong, persuasive eloquence.
That all were pacified, aad silently
They slunk away.

ZAJBETH. The fickle multitude !

Which turns with ev'ry wind. Unhappy he
Who leans upon this reed I 'Tis well, Sir William ;
You may retire again —

{^As he is going towards the door^
And, Sir, this paper,
Beceive it back ; I place it in your hands.

riSON (caste a look upon the 'paper ^ and starts hack).

My gracious Queen — thy name I — 'tis then decided.

z. I had but to subscribe it — I have done so —
A paper sure cannot decide — a name
Kills not —

71SON. Thy name, my Queen, beneath this paper

Is most decisive — kills — 'tis like the lightning.
Which blasteth as it flies I This fatal scroll ^

134 MARY STUART. [activ.

1 Commands the Sheriff and Commissioners
^ To take departure straight for Fortheringay,
And to the Queen of Scots announce her death,
Which must at dawn he put in execution.
There is no respite, no discretion, here —
As soon as I have parted with this writ.
Her race is run —

Elizabeth. Yes, Sir, the Lord has placed

This weighty business in your feeble hands ;
Seek him in pray'r, to light you with his wisdom ;
I go— and leave you, Sir, to do your duty. [Goin^.

Dav. No ; leave me not, my Queen, till I have heard
Your will. The only wisdom that I need
Is, word for word, to follow your commands.
Say, have you placed this warrant in my hands
To see that it be speedily enforced ?

Eliz. That you must do, as your own prudence dictates.

Davison {inteiTupting her quicJdy, and alai^med).

Not mine— O God forbid 1 Obedience is

My only prudence here. No point must now

Be left to be decided by your servant.

A small mistake would here be regicide,

A monstrous crime, from which my soul recoils I

Permit me, in this weighty act, to be

Your passive instrument, without a will ; —

Tell me in plain undoubted terms your pleasure,

What with the bloody mandate I should do.

Eliz. Its name declares its meaning.

Davison. Do you, then,

My Liege, command its instant execution ?

Eliz. I said not that ; I tremble but to think it.

Dav. Shall I retain it, then, till further orderaiZ

Eliz. At your own risk ; you answer the event \

cii.] MARY STUART. 135

. r I ! — gracious Heavens ! — O speak, my Queen, your

, \ pleasure I
s. My pleasure is, that this unhappy business
Be no more mentioned to me ; that at last
I may be freed from it, and that for ever.
It costs you but a word — determine then ;
What shall I do with this mysterious scroll ?
5. I have declared it ; plague me. Sir, no longer.
You have declared it? say you? O, my Queen,
You have said nothing. Please my gracious

mistress
But to remember —
SABETH {stamps on the ground).

Insupportable I
O, be indulgent to me I I have entered
Unwittingly, not many months ago.
Upon this office ; I know not the language
Of courts and kings. I ever have been reared
In simple, open wise, a plain blunt man.
Be patient with me ; nor deny your servant
A light to lead him clearly to his duty.

[-He approa/ihes her in a mpplieating posture, she
turns her back on him; he stands in despair;
then speaks with a tone of resolution.
Take, take again this paper — take it back I
Within my hands, it is a glowing fire.
Select not me, my Queen ; select not me
To serve you in this terrible conjuncture.
5. Go, Sir ; — fulfill the duty of your office. | [^ExiL

Scene XII. —

,,_^ Davison, then Burleigh.

She goes I She leaves me doubting, and perplexed

136 MARY STUART. ^ [act iv.

With this dread paper ! How to act I know not; |
Should I retain it, should I forward it ?

ITo BuBLSiGH, who entm.
Oh I I am glad that you are come, my Lord,
*Ti8 you who have preferred me to this charge ;
Now free me from it, for I undertook it,
Unknowing how responsible it made me« \

Let me then seek again th' obscurity
In which you found me ; this is not my place.

Bub. How now? Take courage. Sir! Where is the
warrant ?
The Queen was with you.

Bayison. She has quitted me

In bitter anger. O advise me, help me,
Save me from this fell agony of doubt !
My Lord, here is the warrant : it is sign'd !

Bub, Indeed ? O give it, give it me I

Davison. I may not.

Bub. How !

Dav. She has not yet explained her final will.

Bub. Explained ? She has subscribed it ; — give it me.

Day. I am to execute it, and I am not.

Great Heavens 1 I know not what I am to do t

BuBLEiOH (urging more violently).

It must be now, this moment, executed —
The warrant. Sir. You're lost if you delay.

Dav. So am I, also, if I act too rashly.

Bub. What strange infatuation. Give it me.

ISnaiches the paper from him, and exit wUhiL,.

Dav. What would you ? Hold 1 You will be my destruc^
tion !

MARY STUART. 137

ACT V.

Scene I.

The Scene the same as in the First AcL

Hannah Kennedy in deep moum inf^her eyes stiU red from
vxe pip.ff in great huLjipikL^ auffuish,. is, empHoyed in sealing
letters an dj^rcels. Her sorrow often interrupts her occupation^
and she is seen at such intervals to pray in silence, Paulet
and Drury, alw in mourning, enter, followed by many ser-
vaniSy who bear golden and silver vessels, mirrors, paintings,
and other valuables, and fill the back part of the stage with them:
Paulet delivers to the Nurse a box of jewels and a paper, and
seems to inform her, by sign>s, that it contains the inventory of the
effects the Queen had brought with her. At the sight of these
riches, the anguish of the Nurse is renewed ; she sinks into a
deep, gloomy melancholy, during which Drury, Paulet, and
the Servants, silently retire.

Melvil enters,

Kennedy {screams aloud, as soon as she observes him),
Melvil ! Is't you ? Behold I you again ?

Mel. Yes, faithful Kennedy, we meet once more.

Ken. After this long, long, painful separation I

Mel. a most unhappy, bitter meeting, this I

Ken. You come —

Melvil. To take an everlasting leave

Of my dear Queen — to bid a last farewell I

Ken. And now at length, now on the fatal morn

Which brings her death, they grant our royal Lady
The presence of her friends. O, worthy Sir,
I will not quetion you how you have far'd
Nor tell you all the sufferings we've endured,

138 MARY STUART. [act ^

Since you were torn away from us : — alas I
There will be time enough for that hereafter.
O, Melvil, Melvil, why was it our fate
To see the dawn of this unhappy day 1

Mel. Let us not melt each other with our grief.

Throughout my whole remaining life, as long

As ever it may be, 1*11 sit and weep ;

A^smile shall never more light up these eheeks,

Ne'er will I lay this sable garb aside.

But lead henceforth a life of endless mourning.

Yet on this last sad day I will be firm ;

Pledge me your word to moderate your grief ;

And when the rest, of comfort all bereft,

Abandoned to despair, wail round her, we

Will lead her with heroic resolution,

And be her staff upon the road to death I

Ken. Melvil I You are deceived, if you suppose
The Queen has need of our support to meet
Her death with firmness. She it is, my friend.
Who will exhibit the undaunted heart.
O I trust me, Mary Stuart will expire
As best becomes a Heroine and Queen 1

Mel. KeceivM she firmly, then, the sad decree

Of death? — His said that she was not prepared.

Ken. She was not ; yet they were far other terrors

Which made our Lady shudder : 'twas not death.
But her deliverer, which made her tremble.
Freedom was promised us ; this very night
Had Mortimer engag'd to bear us hence :
And thus the Queen, perplexed Hwixt hope and fear,
And doubting still if she should trust her honor
And royal person to th' adventurous youth,
Sat waiting for the morning. On a sudden

.] MARY STUART. 139

We hear a boisterous tumult in the castle ;

Our ears are startled by repeated blows

Of many hammers, and we think we hear

The approach of our deliverers : — hope salutes us,

And suddenly and unresisted wakes

The sweet desire of life. And now at once

The portals are thrown open — it is Paulet,

Who comes to tell us — that — the carpenters

Erect beneath our feet the murd'rous scaffold I

l^She turns asidCf overpowered by excessive anguish,
O God in Heav'n I O tell me, then, how bore
The Queen this terrible vicissitude ?
NEDY {after a pause, in which she has somewhat collected

herself).
Not by degrees can we relinquish life ;
Quick, sudden, in the twinkling of an eye
The separation must be made, the change
From temporal to eternal life ; — and God
Imparted to our mistress at this moment
His grace, to cast away each earthly hope,
/^d firm and full of faith to mount the ski6B\
ISfb sign of pallid fear dishonored her ;
No word of mourning, 'till she heard the tidings
Of Leicester's shameful treach'ry, the sad fate
Of the deserving youth, who sacrificed
Himself for her : the deep, the bitter anguish
Of that old knight, who lost, through her, his last.
His only hope ; till then she shed no tear, —
CCx^as then her tears began to flow, 'twas not
Her own, but others* woe which wrung them from

hej>
Where is she now ? Can you not lead me to her ?
She spent the last remainder of the night

I40 MARY STUART. [act v.

In pray'r, and from her dearest friends she took
Her last farewell in writing : — then she wrote
Her wilP with her own hand. She now enjoys
A moment of repose, the latest slumber
^Refreshes her weak spirits.

MEiiViL. Who attends her ?

Ken. N^ne but her women and physician Burgoyn :
xCdu seem to look around you with surprise ;
Your eyes appear to ask me what should mean
This show of splendor in the house of death.
O, Sir, while yet we lived we suffer' d want ;
But at our death plenty returns to usJ

Scene II.

Enter Margaret Curl.

Ken. How, Madam, fares the Queen ? Is she awake ?
CuRii (drying her tears).

She is already dressed — she asks for you.
Ken. I go ; —

\_To Melvil, who seems to wish to accompany her.
But follow not until the Queen

Has been prepared to see you. {^ExiL

Curl. Melvil, sure,

The ancient steward ?
Melvil. Yes, the same.

Curl. O, Sir,

This is a house which needs no steward now I

Melvil, you come from London ; can you give

No tidings of my husband ?
Melyil. It is said

He will be set at liberty as soon —

^ The document is now in the British Museum.

II.] MARY STUART. 141

:<. As soon as our dear Queen shall be no more.

O, the unworthy, the disgraceful traitor I

He is our Lady's murderer — 'tis said

It was his testimony which condemn' d her.

*Tis true.
J. O, curse upon him I — be his soul

Condemn' d for ever ! — he has borne false witness-
Think, Madam, what you say.
J. I will maintain it

With ev'ry sacred oath, before the court,

I will repeat it in his very f«;e;

The world shall hear of nothing else. I say

That she dies innocent I
\riii. God grant it true I

Scene III. ->

Enter MxisiSAB. Kennedy.^ ^^ it'^^/' '• '■(

SKDY (to OJRJj), '^

Go, Madam, and require a cup of wine —

'Tis for our Lady.
Tiii. Is the Queen then sick ?

She thinks that she is strong ; she is deceiv'd

By her heroic courage ; she believes

She has no need of nourishment ; yet still

A hard and painful task's allotted her.

Her enemies shall not enjoy the triumph ;

They shall not say that fear hath blanch' d her
cheeks,

When her fatigues have conquer' d human weakness.

May I approach her?
jlTEDY. She will come herself.

142 MARY STUART. [act v.

hi V'\ V^ ? J^ > f Scene IV.
JErUer Burgoyn^s; tvx> women of the charnher follow him, weeping ^

I / V -" andin^moumifrig, 6)

ifWa Co, Melvilj) t4/lf^^0 f i( V'.lC C
Melvil. /'b, BurgoynJ [Th^ eMijhce ailerUly,

- ^d<«irt^C6]^y(toeAeNnBSE). Shec^slt^be

Alon^ : — she wishes, at this awful moment,
For the last time, to commune with her God.

Scene V.

Enter Maboabet CurIj, bearing a golden cup of win%; she

places it hastily upon the tai>je, and deans^ ^p^ and trembling^

, y Qgainst 9>jMir. J j^ -1 V f( 'V '' ;? /. '. i ' : i/tilty U

Mel. How, Madam i What has frightened you?

Kennedy. O God I

BuBG. Speak, Madam.

CuBL. What, alas ! have I beheld !

Mel. Come to yourself, and say what you have seen !

CuBL. As I went down the staircase which conducts
To the great hall below, a door stood open •
I look'd into the chamber, and I saw —
O Heav'n I

Melvil. What saw you ?

CuBL. All the walls were hung

With black ; a spacious scaffold. ;t^qo, o'erspread
With sable cloth, was rais'd«above/the floor,
And in the middle of the scaffold stood
A dreadful sable block I upon it lay
A naked, polish' d axe : — the hall was full
Of cruel people, crowding round the scaffold ;
Who, with a horrid thirst for human blood,
Seem'd waiting for the victim I

I.] MARY STUART. 143

Women. Gracious Heav'n

Protect our Queen 1
7Um Be calm ; the Queen approaches.

Scene VL

' Maby in white and sumptuoudy array ed, as for a festival :

wears hanging from her neck, on a row of small beads, an

ntLS Dei; a rosary hangs from her girdUy she bears a crucifix

her handj^nd a diadem of precious stones binds her hair;

large black veil is thrown bach.') On her entrance, all present

back on both sides with the most violent expressions of an^

ah, Melyil/oZ/s involuntarily upon his knees.

5r {with qydet majesty, looking round ike whole circle) .

Why these complaints? Why weep ye ? Ye should

rather
Rejoice with me, that now at length the end
Of my long woe approaches ; that my shackles
Fall off, my prison opens, and my soul,
Delighted, mounts on seraph's wings, and seeks
The land of everlasting liberty.
When I was offered up to the oppression
Of my proud enemy, was forced to suffer
Ignoble taunts, and insults most unfitting
A free and sovereign Queen, then was the time
To weep for me ; but, as an earnest friend.
Beneficent and healing Death approaches.
All the indignities which I have suffer' d
On earth are cover' d by his sable wings.
The most degraded criminal 's ennobled
By his last sufferings, by his final exit ;
I feel again the crown upon my brows.
And dignity possess my swelling soul I

{^Advancing a few steps.

144 MARY STUART. [act v.

How ! Melvil here 1 My worthy Sir, not so ;
Arise ; you rather come in time to see
The triumph of your mistress, than her death.
One comfort, which I never had expected,
Is granted me ; that, after death, my name
Will not he quite abandoned to my foes ;
One friend at least, one partner of my faith,
Will be my witness in the hour of death.
Say, honest Melvil, how you far*d the while
In this inhospitable, hostile land ?
For since the time they tore you from my side,
My fears for you have oft depressed my soul.

Mel. No other evil gall'd mo, but my grief

For thee, and that I wanted pow'r to serve thee.

Mary. How fares my chamberlain, old Didier?

But sure the faithful servant long has slept
The sleep of death, for he was full of years.

Mel. God hath not granted him as yet this grace ;

He lives to see the grave overwhelm thy youth.

Mary. O I Could I but have felt, before my death,
The happiness of pressing one descendant
Of the dear blood of Stuart to my bosom.
But I must suffer in a foreign land,
None but my servants to bewail my fate !
Sir, to your loyal bosom I commit
My latest wishes. Bear then. Sit", my blessing
To the most Christian Ufng, my royal brother,
And the whole royal family of France.
I bless the cardinal, my honored uncle.
And also Henry Guise, my noble cousin,
^bless the holy Father, the vicegerent
Of Christ on earth, who will, I trust, bless mg^
I bless the King of Spain, who nobly offered

n.] MARY STUART. 145

Himself as my deliverer, my avenger.
They are remembered in my will : I hope
That they will not despise, how poor soe'er
They be, the presents of a heart which loves them.
C^t'.ntiit i^ (^^ [ Turning to her senxinte.

I have^queath'Ayou to my royal brother
Of France ; he will protect you, he will give you
Another country, and a better home ;
And if my last desire have any weight,
Stay not in England ; let no haughty Briton
Glut his proud heart with your calamities,
Nor see those in the dust who once were mine.
Swear by this image of our sufiTring Lord
To leave this fatal land when I'm no more.

jVHi {iavMng the crucifix).

I swear obedience, in the name of all.

lY, What I, though poor and plundered, still possess,
Of which I am allow' d to make disposal,
Shall be amongst you shared ^r I have hope
In this, at least, my will maybe fulfil?^ / ^ '

And wha^ wear upon the way to deStn . ^^i* ^
Is yours-fcpr envy me, on this occasion,
The pomp of earth upon the road to hea v'nj

[To the ladies of her chamber.
To you, my Alice, Gertrude, Eosamund,
I leave my pearls, my garments : you are young.
And ornament may still delight your hearts.
You, Margaret, possess the nearest claims.
To you I should be gen'rous : for I leave you
The most unhappy woman of them alL
That I have not aveng'd your husband's fault
On you, I hope my legacy will prove.
The worth of gold, my Hannah, charms not thee ;

A<^

146 MARY STUART. [act v.

Nor the magnificence of precious stones :
My memory, I know, will be to thee
The dearest jewel ; take this handkerchief,
I worked it for thee, in the hours of sorrow,
With my own hands, and my hot scalding tears
Are woven in the texture : — you will bind
My eyes with this, when it is time : this last
Sad service I would wish but from mv Hannah.

Ken. O Melvil ! I cannot support it.

Maby. Come,

Come all, and now receive my last farewell.

[She stretches forth her hands; the Women vio-
lently weeping^ fall suocesswely <U her feet; and
kiss her outstretched hand^
Marg'ret, farewell— my Alice, fare thee well ;
Thanks Burgoyn, for thy honest, faithful service^
Thy lips are hot, my Gertrude : — I have been
Much hated, yet have been as much belov'd.
May a deserving husband bless my Gertrude,
For this warm glowing heart is form'd for love.
Bertha, thy choice is better, thou hadst rather
Become the chaste and pious bride of heaven ; —

I haste thee to fulfil thy vows; — the goods
Of earth are all deceitful ;— thou may'st learn
This lesson from thy Queen. No more ; farewell.
Farewell, farewell, my friends, farewell for ever.

[She turns svddenly from them ; ail bui Melvil
reUre at different sides*

Scene, VIL
Mary, Melvil.
Maby {after the others are aU ^[one),

1 have arranged all temporal concerns.

And hope to leave the world in debt to none ;

VII.] MARY STUART. 147

Melvil, one thought alone there is, which binds
My troubled soul, nor suffers it to fly,
Delighted, and at liberty, to heaven.

SL. Disclose it to me ; ease your bosom, trust

Your doubts, your sorrows, to your faithful friend.

lEY. I see eternity's abyss before me ; —

Soon must I stand before the highest judge

And have not yet appeas'd the Holy One.

A priest of my religion is denied me,

And I disdain to take the sacrament,

The holy, heay'nly nourishment, from priests

Of a false faith ; I die in the belief

Of my own church, for that alone can save.

:l. Compose your heart ; the fervent pious wish
Is priz'd in heaven as high as the performance.
The might of tyrants can but bind the hands,
The heart's devotion rises free to Grod,
The word is dead-'tis faith which brings to life.

BT. tfne heart is not sufficient of itself ;

Our faith must have some earthly pledge to ground
Its claims to the high bliss of heav'n. For this
Our God became incarnate, and inclos'd
Mysteriously his unseen heav'nly grace
Within the outward figure of a body.
The church it is, the holy one, the high one.
Which rears for us the ladder up to heav'n : —
'/Tis caird the Catholic — apostolic church, —
For 'tis but general faith can strengthen faith :
Where thousands worship and adore, the heat
Breaks out in flame, and borne on eagle wings,
The soul mounts upwards to the heav'n of heav'ns..
Ah I happy they, who for the glad communion
Of pious pray'r, meet in the house of Godly

148 MARY STUART. [act v

^he altar ig adom'd, the tapers blaze,
The bell invites, the incense soars on high.
The bishop stands enroVd, he takes the cup.
And blessing it declares the solemn mystery,
The transformation of the elements ;
And the believing people fall delighted
To worship and adore the present Godhead.
Alas I I only am debarred from thi^
h\ :, .V /Jhe heav'nly benediction pierces irot

My prison walls : its comfort is denied me.

Mel. Yes ! it can pierce them — put thy trust in Him
Who is almighty — ^in the hand of faith,
TJie withered staff can send forth verdant branches
^And he who from the rock calFd living water,
lie can prepare an altar in this prison,
Can change —

[^Seizing the cup^ which stands upon the table
The earthly contents of this cup
Into a substance of celestial grace.

Masy. Melvil ! O yes, I understand you, Melvil I
Here is no priest, no church, no sacrament ;
But the Redeemer gays, " When two or three
Are- in my name assembled, I am with them."
What consecrates the priest? Say, what ordain

him
To be the Lord's interpreter? — a heart
Devoid of guile, and a reproachless conduct.
Well, then, though unordain'd, be you my priest
To you will I confide my last confession.
And take my absolution from your lips.

Mel. If then thy heart be with such zeal inflamjj^
I tell thee, that for thine especial comfort
The Lord may work a miracle. Thou say'st

VII.] MARY STUART. 149

Here is no priest, no church, no sacrament —
Thou err'st — here is a priest — here is a God ;
A god descends to thee in real presence.

[^At these words he uncovers his head, and shows a
host in a golden vesseL / "f ^ .• 1 11 1 *•- ^~ *)
fi am a priest to hear thy last confession.
And to announce to thee the peace of God
Upon thy way to death. I have received
Upon my head the seven consecrations.
I hring thee, from his Holiness, this host,
Which, for thy use, himself has deign'd to hless^

LEY. Is then a heav'nly happiness prepared
To cheer me on the very verge of death ?
As an immortal one on golden clouds
Descends, as once the angel from on high,
Deliver' d the Apostle from his fetters : —
He scorns all bars, he scorns the soldier's sword,
He steps undaunted through the bolted portals,
And fills the dungeon with his native glory ;
Thus here the messenger of Heav'n appears,
When ev'ry earthly champion has deceived me. -—
Md you, my servant once, are now the servant
Of the Most High, and his immortal Word^
As before me your knees were wont to bencf.
Before you, humbled, now I kiss the dust.

IShe sinks before him on her knees.

XVili (^naking over her the sign of the cross).

Hear, Mary Queen of Scotland : — in the name
oTGod the Father, Son, and Holy Ghosh
Hast thou examined carefully thy heartj^"^
Swear' st thou, art thou prepar'd in thy confession
To speak the truth before the God of truth ?

RY. Before my God and thee, my (heart Hes open.

7* .; (.(-^

ISO MARY STUART. [act v

Mel. fVliat calls thee to the presence of the Highest ?

Maby. Ffiumbly do acknowledge to have err'd
Most grievously, I tremble to approach,
Sullied with sin, the God of puritj.

MEii. Declare the sin which weighs so heavily

Upon thy conscience, since thy last confession^

Maby. My heart was filled with thoughts of enviot!S*€ate
And vengeance took possession of my bosom.
I hopq^orgiveness of my sins from God,
Yet could I not forgive my enemy.

Mkl. Bepent'st thou of the sin ? Art thou, in sooth,
Kesolv^d to leave this world at peace with all?

Mary. As surely as I wish the joys of heaven.

Mel. What other sin hath arm'd thy heart against thee!

Mary. Ah I not alone through hate ; through lawless lov(
Have I still more abus'd the sovereign good.
My heart was vainly turned towards the man
Who left me in misfortune, who deceived me.

Mel. /Kepent'st thou of the sin ? And hast thou tum*d
*Thy heart from this idolatry to God ?

Maby. It was the hardest trial I have passed ;

This last of earthly bonds is torn asunder^

Mel. What other sin disturbs thy guilty conscience ?

Maby. A bloody crime, indeed of ancient date.

And long ago confessed ; yet with new terrors
It now attacks me, black and grisly steps
Across my path, and shuts the gates of heaven :
By my connivance fell the king, my husband —
I gave my hand and heart to a seducer*-
By rigid penance I have made atonement ;
Yet in my soul the worm is gnawing still.

Mel. Has then thy heart no other accusation

Which hath not been confessed and wash'd away?

. VII.] MARY STUART. 151

ARY. All 70U have heard, with which my heart is charg'd.

EJL, Think on the presence of Omniscience ;

^hink on the punishments with which the church
Threatens imperfect and reserv'd confession 1
This ifi the sin to everlasting death,
For this is sinning 'gainst his Holy SpiriV

ABY. So may eternal grace with victory — ^
Crown my last contest, as I wittingly
Have nothing hid-r—

EXVUi. How? Wilt thou then conceal

The crime from God for which thou art condemned ?
Thou telPst me nothing of the share thou hadst
In Babington, and Parry's bloody treason :
Thou diest for this a temporal death ; for this
Wilt thou too die the everlasting death.

ABY. I am prepared to meet eternity ;

Within the narrow limits of an hour

I shall appear before my judge's throne ;

But, I repeat it, my confession's ended.

EL, Consider well — the heart is a deceiver.

Thou hast perhaps, with sly equivocation.
The' word avoided which would make thee guilty,
Although thy will was party to the crime.
Kemember that no juggler's tricks can blind
The eye of fire which darts through ev'ry breast.

ARY. 'Tis true that I have call'd upon all princes
To free me from unworthy chains ; yet 'tis
As true that neither by intent or deed
Have I attempted my oppressor s life.

Eli. Your secretaries, then, have witness' d falsely. "

kRY, It is as I have said ;— what they have witnessed
The Lord will judge.

BLViii. Thou mount' sty then, satisfied

152 MARY STUART. [act v.

Of thj own innocence, the fatal scaffold ?
Maky. God suffers me in mercy to atone,

£7 undeserved death, mj youth's transgressions.
Melvil. {making over her the sign of the cross).

Go, then, and expiate them all by death ;
Sink a devoted victim on the altar ;
Thus shall thy blood atone the blood thou^st spilt.
From female frailty were derived thy faults ;
Free from the weakness of mortality.
The spotless spirit seeks the blest abodea
iw then, by the authority which God
fath unto me committed, I absolve thee
From all thy sins — ^be as thy faith thy welfare I

[ J3e gives her the host.
Receive the body which for thee was offer' d —
[^He takes the cup which stands upon the table, conse-
crates it with silent prayer j then presents it to her ;
she hesitates to take it, and makes sigihs to him to
withdraw iL
Receive the blood, which for thy sins was shed —
Receive it — His allow'd thee by the Pope,
To exercise in death the highest office
Of kings, the holy office of the priesthood.

\_She takes the cup.
And as thou now in this his earthly body
Hast held with God mysterious communion,
So may'st thou henceforth, in his realm of joy,
Where sin no more exists, nor tears of woe,
A fair transfigur'd spirit, join thyself
For ever with the Godhead, and for ever*

He sets down the cup ; hearing a noise^he covers his
heady and goes to the door ; Mary remains in si'
lent devotion, on her knees.

. VIII.] MARY STUART. 153

EiLvrL (returning). A painful conflict is in store for thee ;

FeePst thou within thee strength enough to smother

Each impulse of malignity and hate ?
AJB.Y. I fear not a relapse. I have to God

Devoted both my hatred and my love.
Eli. Well, then, prepare thee to receive my Lords

Of Leicester and of Burleigh. They are here.

Scene VIIL

Enter Bubleigh, Leicester, and Paulet.

[Leicester remains in the ba/^ground, without
raising his eyes; BuBLEiOH, fvho remarks his
confusion^ steps between him and the Queen.
JB. I come, my Lady Stuart, to receive
Your last commands and wishes.

Thanks, my Lord.
It is the pleasure of my royal mistress
That nothing reasonable be denied you.
My will, my Lord, declares my las| jdesires ;
I've plac'd it in the hand of Sir Amias,
And humbly beg that it may be fulfilPd.
You may rely on this.

I beg that all
My servants unmolested may return
To France, or Scotland, as their wishes lead.
It shall be as you wish.

And since my body
Is not to rest in consecrated ground,
I pray you suffer this my faithful servant
To bear my heart to France, to my relations —
Alas ! 'twas ever there.
7BLEIOH. It shall be done.

154 MARY STUART. [act v.

What wishes else ?

Maky. Unto her Majesty

Of England bear a sister's salutation ;
Tell her that from the bottom of my heart
I pardon her my death : most humbly, too,
I crave her to forgive me for the passion i

"With which I spoke to her. May God preserve her, ]
And bless her with a long and prosperous reign I I

Bur. Say, do you still adhere to your resolve, '

And still refuse assistance from the Dean ? .-^

Maby. My Lord, I've made my peace with God. j

[To Paulet. Good Sir, '
I have unwittingly caused you much sorrow, — j^

Bereft you of your age's only stay. ^

Oh, let me hope you do not hate my name. '

PAuiiET (giving her hia hand), \

The Lord be with you I go your way in peace.

, ^ , / Scene IX,!/, > ':/,.■, r,

^Hannah Kennedt^' and the other women of the QtJibEN crowd ]
into the room-y with marks of horror. The Sheriff foUows' i
theaohl a white staff in his hand ; behind are seen, through the
open doorSy men under arms,

€ARY. What ails thee, Hannah ?— Yes — my hour is come — •
The Sheriff comes to lead m^o my fate.
And part we must — farewelly- \

Kennedy and Curl. n^e will not leave thee.

We will not part from thee.
Mary (to Melvil). You, worthy Sir, '

And my dear faithful Hannah, shall attend me^
In my last moments. I am sure, my Lord
Will not refuse my heart this consolation.

' /v

sc. IX.] MARY STUART. 155

Bub. For this I have no warrant
Mary. How, my Lord ;

Can you deny me, then, this small petition ?
fiespect my sex ; who shall attend me else,
And yield me the last service ? — sure it never
Can be my sister's pleasure that in me
^ My sex should be insulted ; that these men

With their rude hands, should touch my royal
person.
Bur. Tis ordered that no woman shall ascend

The scaffold steps with you — their tears and
moans —
Mary. 8he shall not weep, my Lord, she shall not moan ;
I answer for mj Hannah's resolution.
Be merciful ; divide me not so soon
From my true foster-mother, from my friend.
She bore me on her arms into this life.
Let her, then, gently lead me to^y^ death.
Pauxet (to Burleigh).

Yield to her wishes.
BuRLEiOH. Be it so.

Mary. I now

Have nothing in this world to wish for more.

[^She takes the crucifix and kisses tf .
My God ! My Comforter I My blest Redeemer I
As once thy arms were stretch' d upon the cross,
Let them be now extended to receive me I

[JShe ivms ronnd to goy aithe same moment her eyes
Jail upon Leicester, v;^, on her going, starts
involuntarily and turns his eyes towards her : at
this sight Mary trembles, her knees faU her^ she
is about to fall, when Leicester catches at her,
and receives her in his arms; she regards him for

156 MARY STUART. [act

iome time earnestly ^ and m sUence; he can
mpport her looks; at length she speaks.
You keep your word, my Lord of Leicester : for
You promised me your arm to lead me forth
rom prison, and you lend it to me now.
i.t length the wished for day is come, and what
oft the object of my fondest dreams
Is now accomplished : and the Earl of Leicester,
The long expected, the long wished for friend,
Appears at length in Fotheringay Castle.
I see him standing in my prison ; all
Is ready for the journey ; all the gates
Stand open, and at length I cross the threshold,
Conducted by his hand ; and now I leave
These dismal walls behind me, and for ever.
All is fulfilFd, and you have sav'd your honor.
IHe staTids as if annihilated ; she continues, wit
gentle voice.
Yes, Leicester ; not for liberty alone
I wished to be indebted to your hand&
You should have made me bless that liberty
Led by your hand, and happy in your love,
I hop^d once more to taste the joya of life.
Yes ; now that I^m' prepared from all the world
To part, and ta become a happy spirit.
Whom earthly inclinations tempt no more.
Now, Leicester, I may venture to confess, ,^
Without a blush, the frailty I have conquer* dj-
Farewell, my lord ; and, if you can^ be happy I
To woo two Queens has been your daring aim ;
You have disdained a tender, loving heart ;
Betray'd it, in the hope to win a proud one ;
Kneel at the feet of Queen Elizabeth I

c] MARY STUART. 157

May your reward not prove your punishment.

ffarewell ; I now have nothing more on eaiw

^fShe goes, preceded hy dhc Sheriffs at her side
Melvtl and her ^ji^e; \Bubjjeiqh. and
PAUiiBT follow ; the others^ wailing^ follow her
with their eyes till she disappears; they then re*
tire through the other two door&i)

Scene X

"imnsR {renuUning odone),

I Do I live still f Can I still bear to live ?

I Will not this roof fall down and bury me ?
'• Yawns no abyss, to swallow in its gulf

The veriest wretch on earth ? What have I lostf*
Oh, what a pearl have I not cast away !
What bliss celestial madly dashed aside !
She's gone, a spirit purged from earthly stain^
And the despair of hell remains for me !
Where is the purpose now with which I came
To stifle my heart's voice in callous scorn ?
To see her head descend upon the block
With unaverted and indifferent eyes ?
How doth her presence wake my slumb'ring shame ?
Must she in death surround me with Love's toils ?
Lost, wretched man I No more it suits thee now
To melt away, in womanly compassion :
Love's golden bliss lies not upon thy path.
Then «rm thy breast in panoply of steel,
And henceforth be thy brows of adamant I
Wouldst thou not lose the guerdon of thy guilt.
Thou must uphold, complete it daringly I
Pity the dumb ; mine eyes be petrified 1
PU .see — I will be witness of her falli

158 MARY STUART. [act v,

[He advaneea with resdtUe steps Uywards the door,
V through which Mart passed; bid stops suddenh

half way.
No I No I The terrors of all Hell possess me.
I cannot look upon the dreadful deed ;
I cannot see her die ! — EEark ! What was that 7
They are already there. Beneatli my feet
The bloody business is preparing. Hark I
I hear their voices — Hence ! — Away — ^Away —
From this abode of misery and death !

[He attempts to escape by aru)ther door; finds ""
locked, and returns.
How I Does some demon chain me to this spot?
To hear what I would shudder to behold ?
That voice — it is the Dean's, exhorting her ;
She interrupts him. Hark — she prays aloud—
Her voice is firm — now all is still, quite still I
And sobs and women's moans are all I hear.
Now they undress her — they remove the stool-
She kneels upon the cushion — lays her head —
[Having spoken these last words, and paused awhiUf
he is seen with a convulsive motion suddenly to
shrink f and faint away : a cvnfused hum of voices
is heard at the same moment from below, and con-
tinv£s for some time.

Scene XI.

The seccmd Chamber in the Fourth Act.

Elizabeth {entering from a side door; her gait and action
eocpressive of the most violent uneasiness).
No message yet arrived I What I no one here I
Will evening never come ? Stands the sun-afill
In its ethereal course ? I can no more

[i-ati

XII.] MARY STUART. 159

Eemain upon the rack of expectation !

Is it accomplished?— Is it not? — I shudder

At both events, and do not dare to ask.

My Lord of Leicester comes not, — Burleigh too, '

Whom I appointed to fulfil the sentence.

If they have quitted London, then 'tis done,

The bolt has left its rest — it cuts the air —

It strikes ; — has struck already : — were my realm

At stake, I could now not arrest its course.

Who's there?

Scene XIL

Enter a Page.

ZABETH. Betum'd alone? Where are the Lords ?

E. My Lord High Treasurer, and the Earl of Lei-
cester —

s. Where are they?

E. They are not in London.

5. No!

Where are they, then ?

E. That no one could inform me I

Before the dawn, mysteriously, in haste,
They quitted London.

LABETH {exultingly). I am Queen of England I

[ Walking up and down in the greatest agUabUm,
Gro — call me — no, remain, boy I She is dead —
Now have I room upon the earth at last.
Why do I shake? Whence comes this agueish

dread ?
My fears are covered by the grave ; who dares
To say I did it ? — I have tears enough
In store to weep her falL — Are you still hero?

[To ^e Page,

l6o MARY STUART. [act^. sc.

Command my secretary Davison
V To come to me this instant. Let the Earl
Of Shrewsbury be summoned. Here he comes.

[ExU Page.
Scene XIIL
Enter Shbewsbubt.

Eliz. Welcome, my noble Lord. What tidings — say.
It cannot be a trifle which hath led
Your footsteps hither at so late an hour.

Shrew. My Liege, the doubts that hung upon my heart
And dutiful concern for your fair fame
Directed me this morning to the Tower,
Where Mary*s secretaries, Nau and Curl,
Are now confined as prisoners, for I wish'd
Once more to put their evidence to proof.
On my arrival the lieutenant seem'd
Embarrassed and perplexed ; refus'd to show me
His prisoners ; but my threats obtained admittance.
God I what a sight was there ! With frantic looks,
With hair dishevelPd, on his pallet lay
The Scot, like one tormented by a fury.
The miserable man no sooner saw me
Then at my feet he fell, and there, with screams,
Clasping my knees, and writhing like a worm,
Implored, conjured me to acquaint him with
His Sov^ reign's destiny, for vague reports
Had somehow reached the dungeons of the Tow'r
That she had been condemned to suffer death.
When I confirm' d these tidings, adding, too.
That on his evidence she had been doomed.
He started wildly up, — caught by the throat
His fellow pris'ner, witli the giant strength -,^
Of madness tore him to the ground, and tried j

IV.] MARY STUART. l6i

I To strangle hiixL No sooner had we Bav'd
\The wretch from his fierce grapple than at once
He tum'd his rage against himself, and heat
His hreast with savage fists ; then curs' d himself
And his companions to the depths of hell I
His evidence was false ; the fatal letters
To Bahington, which he had sworn were true,
He now denounced as forgeries— for he
Had set down words the Queen had never spoken.
The traitor Nau had led him to this treason.
Then ran he to the casement, threw it wide,
With frantic force, and cried into the street
So loud, that all the people gathered round
I am the man. Queen Mary's secretary.
The traitor, who accus'd his mistress falsely ;
I hore false witness, and am cursed for ever I
You said yourself that he had lost his wits ;
A madman's words prove nothing.

SWSBURT. Yet this madness

Serves in itself to swell the proof. My Liege,
Let me conjure thee, be not over hasty ;
Pri'thee, give order for a new inquiry I

L I will, my Lord, because it is your wish,
Not that I can believe my noble peers
Have in this case pronounced a hasty judgment.
To set your mind at rest, the inquiry shall
Be straight renewed. Well that 'tis not too late ! —
Upon the honor of our royal name
No, not the shadow of a doubt shall rest.

Scene XIV.
Enter Davison. >,^^

;. The sentence, Sir, which I but late entrusted
Unto your keeping ; — where is it ? ./

8* "^

i62 MARY STUART. [act v.

Davi^Bn {in the utmost astonishment). The sentence I

Elizabeth {more urgent).

Which yesterday I gave into your chaige.
Dav. Into my charge, my Liege I
Elizabeth. The people urged

And baited me to sign it. I perforce

Was driven to yield obedience to their will.

I did so ; did so, on extreme constraint,

And in your hands deposited the paper.

To gain time was my purpose ; you remember

What then I told you. Now, the paper. Sir !
Shbew. Restore it. Sir, affairs have changed since then,

The inquiry must be set on foot anew.
Dav. Anew I Eternal mercy I
Elizabeth. Why this pause,

This hesitation ? Where, Sir, is the paper ?
Dav. I am undone 1 Undone ! My fate is sealed.
Elizabeth {interrupting him violently).

Let me not fancy. Sir —
Davison. O, I am lost I

I have it not.
Elizabeth. How? What?

Shbewsbury. O, God in heaven I

Dav. It is in Burleigh's hands — since yesterday.
Eliz. Wretch I Is it thus you have obeyed my orders?

Did I not lay my strict injunction on you

To keep it carefully ?
Davison. No such injunction

Was laid on me, my Liege.
Elizabeth. Give me the lie ?

Opprobrious wretch I When did I order you

To give the paper into Burleigh's hands?
Dav. Never expressly in so many words. — •''

XV.] MARY STUART. 163

iiz. J And, paltering villain ! dare you then presume
"* To construe, as you list, my words — and lay

Your bloody meaning on'them ? Woe betide you

If evil come of this officious deed !

Your life shall answer the event to me.

Earl Shrewsbury, you see how my good name

Has been abused I
REWSBUBY. I see ! O, God in heav'n I

iz. What say you ?
REW8BURY. If the Knight has dar'd to act

In this, upon his own authority.

Without the knowledge of your majesty,

He must be cited to the Court of Peers

To answer there for subjecting thy name

To the abhorrence of all after time.

Scene XV.

Enter Burleigh.

BLEIOH {homng his knee before the Queen),

Long life and glory to my royal mistress.
And may all enemies of her dominions
End like this Stuart.

[Shrewsbury hides his face — Davison wrings
his hands in despair,

IZABETH. Speak, my Lord ; did you

From me receive the warrant?

BiiEiGH. Ko, my Queen ;

From Davison.

IZABETH. And did he in my name

Deliver it ?

BX.EIGH. No, that I cannot say. v

IZ. And dar'd you then to execute the writ

I64 MARY STUART. [actv.

Thus hastily, nor wait to know my pleasure ?

Just was the sentence— we are free from blame

Before the world ; yet it behoved thee not

To intercept our natutal clemency.

For this, my Lord, I banish you my presence;

And as this forward will was yours alone,

Bear y<m alone the curse of the misdeed. [To Dav^ -

For you, Sir, who have traitorously o'erstepp'd

The bounds of your commission, and betrayed

A sacred pledge entrusted to your care,

A more severe tribunal is prepar'd :

Let him be straight conducted to the Tow' r.

And capital arraignments fil'd against hiuL

My honest Talbot, you alone have proved,

'Mongst all my counsellors, an upright man :

You shall henceforward be my guide — my friend.

Shbew. O I banish not the truest of your friends ;
Nor cast those into prison who for you
Have acted ; who for you are silent now.
But suffer me, great Queen, to give the seal.
Which, these twelve years, I've borne unworthily)
Back to your royal hands, and take my leave.

Elizabeth (surprised).

No, Shrewsbury ; you surely would not now
Desert me? No ; not now.

Shrewsbury. Pardon, I am

Too old, and this right hand has grown too stiff
To set the seal upon your later deeds.

Eliz. Will he forsake me who has sav'd my life 7

Shrew. 'Tis little I have done ;— I could not save

Your nobler part. Live — ^govern happily I ^-

Your rival's dead. Henceforth you've nothing'
more

XV.] MARY STUART. 165

(

\ To fear, — henceforth, to nothing pay regard.

[ExU.

i:jzabeth (to the Earl of Kent, who enters).

Send for the Earl of Leicester.

Ent. He desires

To be excused — he is embark'd for France. N

[2%€ Curtain drofs.

The Hamilton, Locke ^ Clark

SERIES OP

Interlinear Translations

Have long been the Standard and are now the Best
Translated and Most Complete Series of Interlinears
published.

xamo., well bound in Half Leather.

Price reduced to $1.50 each. Postpaid to any address.

Latin Interlinear Translations :
VIRGIL— By Hart and Osborne.
C^SAR — ^By Hamilton and Clark.
HORACE — By Stirling, Nuttall and Clark.
CICERO — By Hamilton and Clark.
SALLUST — By Hamilton and Clark.
OVID— By George W. Heilig.
JUVENAL — By Hamilton and Clark.
LIVY — By Hamilton and Clark.
CORNELIUS NEPOS—
. By Hamilton and Underwood.

Greek Interlinear Translations :
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XENOPHON'S ANABASIS— By Hamilton AND Clark.
GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN— By George W. Heilig.

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Formerly published by Charles De Silver ft Scat.

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