Mary Stuart Read online

  Immured 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!

  See-I will throw the blame of all on fate,

  'Twere not your fault, no more than it was mine.

  An evil spirit rose from the abyss,

  To kindle in our hearts the flame of hate,

  By which our tender youth had been divided.

  It grew with us, and bad, designing men

  Fanned with their ready breath the fatal fire:

  Frantics, enthusiasts, with sword and dagger

  Armed the uncalled-for hand! This is the curse

  Of kings, that they, divided, tear the world

  In pieces with their hatred, and let loose

  The raging furies of all hellish strife!

  No foreign tongue is now between us, sister,

  [Approaching her confidently, and with a flattering tone.

  Now stand we face to face; now, sister, speak:

  Name but my crime, I'll fully satisfy you,-

  Alas! had you vouchsafed to hear me then,

  When I so 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.

  ELIZABETH.

  My better stars preserved me. I was warned,

  And laid not to my breast the poisonous adder!

  Accuse not fate! your own deceitful heart

  It was, the wild ambition of your house

  As yet no enmities had passed 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,

  And 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 of religious frenzy;-

  Even 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 aimed

  Full at my head, but yours it is which falls!

  MARY.

  I'm in the hand of heaven. You never will

  Exert so cruelly the power it gives you.

  ELIZABETH.

  Who shall prevent me? Say, did not your uncle

  Set all the kings of Europe the example,

  How to conclude a peace with those they hate.

  Be mine the school of Saint Bartholomew;

  What's kindred then to me, or nation's laws?

  The church can break the bands of every duty;

  It consecrates the regicide, the traitor;

  I only practise what your priests have taught!

  Say then, what surety can be offered me,

  Should I magnanimously loose your bonds?

  Say, with what lock can I secure your faith,

  Which by Saint Peter's keys cannot be opened?

  Force is my only surety; no alliance

  Can be concluded with a race of vipers.

  MARY.

  Oh! this is but your wretched, dark suspicion!

  For you have constantly regarded me

  But as a stranger, and an enemy.

  Had you declared me heir to your dominions,

  As is my right, then gratitude and love

  In me had fixed, for you, a faithful friend

  And kinswoman.

  ELIZABETH.

  Your friendship is abroad,

  Your house is papacy, the monk your brother.

  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--

  MARY.

  O sister, rule your realm in peace;

  I give up every claim to these domains-

  Alas! the pinions of my soul are lamed;

  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!

  Now, end your work, my sister;-speak at length

  The word, which to pronounce has brought you hither;

  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 power,-learn 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;-

  Oh, let it not be needlessly delayed.

  Woe 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.

  ELIZABETH.

  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.

  MARY (starting angrily).

  Sister, sister!-

  Grant me forbearance, all ye powers of heaven!

  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 to stand?

  In sooth, this honor has been cheaply gained;

  She who to all is common, may with ease

  Become the common object of applause.

  MARY.

  This is too much!

  ELIZABETH (laughing insultingly).

  You show us now, indeed,

  Your real face; till now 'twas but the mask.

  MARY (burning with rage, yet dignified and noble).

  My sins were human, and the faults of youth:

  Superior force misled me. I have never

  Denied or sought to hide it: I despised

  All false appearance, as became a queen.

  The worst of me is known, and I can say,

  That I am better than the fame I bear.

  Woe to you! when, in time to come, the world

  Shall draw the robe of honor from your deeds,

  With which thy arch-hypocrisy has veiled

  The raging flames of lawless, secret lust.

  Virtue was not your portion from your mother;

  Well know we what it was which brought the head

  Of Anna Boleyn to the fatal block.

  SHREWSBURY (stepping between both QUEENS).

  Oh! Heaven! Alas, and must it come to this!

  Is this the moderation, the submission,

  My lady?--

  MARY.

  Moderation! I've supported

  What human nature can support: farewell,


  Lamb-hearted resignation, passive patience,

  Fly to thy native heaven; burst at length

  Thy bonds, come forward from thy dreary cave,

  In all thy fury, long suppressed rancor!

  And thou, who to the angered basilisk

  Impart'st the murderous glance, oh, arm my tongue

  With poisoned darts!

  SHREWSBURY.

  She is beside herself!

  Exasperated, mad! My liege, forgive her.

  [ELIZABETH, speechless with anger, casts enraged looks at MARY.

  LEICESTER (in the most violent agitation; he seeks to lead ELIZABETH

  away).

  Attend not to her rage! Away, away,

  From this disastrous place!

  MARY (raising her voice).

  A bastard soils,

  Profanes the English throne! The generous Britons

  Are cheated by a juggler, [whose whole figure

  Is false and painted, heart as well as face!]

  If right prevailed, you now would in the dust

  Before me lie, for I'm your rightful monarch!

  [ELIZABETH hastily quits the stage; the lords follow her

  in the greatest consternation.

  SCENE V.

  MARY, KENNEDY.

  KENNEDY.

  What have you done? She has gone hence in wrath

  All hope is over now!

  MARY (still quite beside herself).

  Gone hence in wrath!

  She carries death within her heart! I know it.

  [Falling on KENNEDY'S bosom.

  Now I am happy, Hannah! 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 plunged the steel in my oppressor's breast!

  KENNEDY.

  Unhappy lady! Frenzy overcomes you.

  Yes, you have wounded your inveterate foe;

  'Tis she who wields the lightning, she is queen,

  You have insulted her before her minion.

  MARY.

  I have abased her before Leicester's eyes;

  He 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 MORTIMER.

  KENNEDY.

  Oh, Sir! What an occurrence!

  MORTIMER.

  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!-

  Thou wast the queen, she was the malefactor;-

  I am transported with thy noble courage;-

  Yes! I adore thee; like a Deity,

  My sense is dazzled by thy heavenly beams.

  MARY (with vivacity and expectation).

  You spoke with Leicester, gave my letter to him.

  My present, too?-oh, speak, sir.

  MORTIMER (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!

  MARY.

  Sir, satisfy, I beg you, my impatience;

  What says his lordship? Say, sir, may I hope?

  MORTIMER.

  Who?-he?-he is a wretch, a very coward,

  Hope naught from him; despise him, and forget him!

  MARY.

  What say you?

  MORTIMER.

  He deliver, and possess you!

  Why let him dare it:-he!-he must with me

  In mortal contest first deserve the prize!

  MARY.

  You gave him not my letter? Then, indeed

  My hopes are lost!

  MORTIMER.

  The coward loves his life.

  Whoe'er would rescue you, and call you his,

  Must boldly dare affront e'en death itself!

  MARY.

  Will he do nothing for me?

  MORTIMER.

  Speak not of him.

  What can he do? What need have we of him?

  I will release you; I alone.

  MARY.

  Alas!

  What power have you?

  MORTIMER.

  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.

  MARY.

  What say you, sir-to-night?-impossible!

  MORTIMER.

  Hear what has been resolved:-I led my friends

  Into a private chapel, where a priest

  Heard our confession, and, for every sin

  We had committed, gave us absolution;

  He gave us absolution too, beforehand,

  For every crime we might commit in future;

  He gave us too the final sacrament,

  And we are ready for the final journey.

  MARY.

  Oh, what an awful, dreadful preparation!

  MORTIMER.

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

  The keys are in my power; the guards we murder!

  Then from thy chamber bear thee forcibly.

  Each living soul must die beneath our hands,

  That none remain who might disclose the deed.

  MARY.

  And Drury, Paulet, my two keepers, they

  Would sooner spill their dearest drop of blood.

  MORTIMER.

  They fall the very first beneath my steel.

  MARY.

  What, sir! Your uncle? How! Your second father!

  MORTIMER.

  Must perish by my hand-I murder him!

  MARY.

  Oh, bloody outrage!

  MORTIMER.

  We have been absolved

  Beforehand; I may perpetrate the worst;

  I can, I will do so!

  MARY.

  Oh, dreadful, dreadful!

  MORTIMER.

  And should I be obliged to kill the queen,

  I've sworn upon the host, it must be done!

  MARY.

  No, Mortimer; ere so much blood for me--

  MORTIMER.

  What is the life of all compared to thee,

  And to my love? The bond which holds the world

  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!

  MARY (retiring)

  Heavens! Sir, what language, and what looks! They scare,

  They frighten me!

  MORTIMER (with unsteady looks, expressive of great madness).

  Life's but a moment-death

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

  To Tyburn, let them tear me limb from limb,

  With red-hot pincers--

  [Violently approaching her with extended arms.

  If I clasp but thee

  Within my arms, thou fervently beloved!

  MARY.

  Madman, avaunt!

  MORTIMER.

  To rest upon this bosom,

  To press upon this passion-breathing mouth--

  MARY.

  Leave me, for God's sake, sir; let me go in--

  MORTIMER.

  He is a madman who neglects to clasp

  His bliss in folds that never may be loosed,

  When Heaven has kindly given it to his arms.
r />   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!

  MARY.

  Oh! will no God, no angel shelter me?

  Dread destiny! thou throwest me, in thy wrath,

  From one tremendous terror to the other!

  Was I then born to waken naught but frenzy?

  Do hate and love conspire alike to fright me!

  MORTIMER.

  Yes, glowing as their hatred is my love;

  They would behead thee, they would wound this neck,

  So dazzling white, with the disgraceful axe!

  Oh! offer to the living god of joy

  What thou must sacrifice to bloody hate!

  Inspire thy happy lover with those charms

  Which are no more thine own. Those golden locks

  Are forfeit to the dismal powers of death,

  Oh! use them to entwine thy slave forever!

  MARY.

  Alas! alas! what language must I hear!

  My woe, my sufferings should be sacred to you,