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Mary Stuart Page 8


  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:

  Watched like a prisoner by the Argus eyes

  Of jealousy; examined like a schoolboy,

  And railed at like a servant. Oh, no tongue

  Can paint this hell.

  MORTIMER.

  My lord, I feel for you.

  LEICESTER.

  To lose, and at the very goal, the prize

  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 played the most distinguished part.

  'Tis not her hand alone this envious stranger

  Threatens, he'd rob me of her favor too;

  She is a woman, and he formed to please.

  MORTIMER.

  He is the son of Catherine. He has learnt

  In a good school the arts of flattery.

  LEICESTER.

  Thus fall my hopes; I strove to seize a plank

  To bear me in this shipwreck of my fortunes,

  And my eye turned itself towards the hope

  Of former days once more; then Mary's image

  Within me was renewed, and youth and beauty

  Once more asserted all their former rights.

  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 waked the hope in me that I might still

  Deliver and possess her; I contrived

  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.

  MORTIMER.

  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, me, her keeper's nephew,

  And heaven must in the Vatican at Rome

  Prepare for her an unexpected succour,

  Else had she never found the way to you.

  LEICESTER.

  Oh, sir, it has tormented me enough!

  About this time it was that they removed her

  From Talbot's castle, and delivered her

  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 hoped,

  And still I hope, to ward off all extremes,

  Till I can find some certain means to save her.

  MORTIMER.

  These are already found: my Lord of Leicester;

  Your generous confidence in me deserves

  A like return. I will deliver her.

  That is my object here; my dispositions

  Are made already, and your powerful aid

  Assures us of success in our attempt.

  LEICESTER.

  What say you? You alarm me! How? You would--

  MORTIMER.

  I'll open forcibly her prison-gates;

  I have confederates, and all is ready.

  LEICESTER.

  You have confederates, accomplices?

  Alas! In what rash enterprise would you

  Engage me? And these friends, know they my secret?

  MORTIMER.

  Fear not; our plan was laid without your help,

  Without your help it would have been accomplished,

  Had she not signified her resolution

  To owe her liberty to you alone.

  LEICESTER.

  And can you, then, with certainty assure me

  That in your plot my name has not been mentioned?

  MORTIMER.

  You may depend upon it. How, my lord,

  So scrupulous when help is offered you?

  You wish to rescue Mary, and possess her;

  You find confederates; sudden, unexpected,

  The readiest means fall, as it were from Heaven,

  Yet you show more perplexity than joy.

  LEICESTER.

  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 we, who only wish to rescue her,

  We are more bold.

  LEICESTER.

  Young man, you are too hasty

  In such a thorny, dangerous attempt.

  MORTIMER.

  And you too scrupulous in honor's cause.

  LEICESTER.

  I see the trammels that are spread around us.

  MORTIMER.

  And I feel courage to break through them all.

  LEICESTER.

  Foolhardiness and madness, is this courage?

  MORTIMER.

  This prudence is not bravery, my lord.

  LEICESTER.

  You surely wish to end like Babington.

  MORTIMER.

  You not to imitate great Norfolk's virtue.

  LEICESTER.

  Norfolk ne'er won the bride he wooed so fondly.

  MORTIMER.

  But yet he proved how truly he deserved her.

  LEICESTER.

  If we are ruined, she must fall with us.

  MORTIMER.

  If we risk nothing, she will ne'er be rescued.

  LEICESTER.

  You will not weigh the matter, will not hear;

  With blind and hasty rashness you destroy

  The plans which I so happily had framed.

  MORTIMER.

  And what were then the plans which you had framed?

  What have you done then to deliver her?

  And how, if I were miscreant enough

  To murder her, as was proposed to me

  This moment by Elizabeth, and which

  She looks upon as certain; only name

  The measures you have taken to protect her?

  LEICESTER.

  Did the queen give you, then, this bloody order?

  MORTIMER.

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

  LEICESTER.

  And have you promised it? Say, have you?

  MORTIMER.

  That she might not engage another's hand,

  I offered mine.

  LEICESTER.

  Well done, sir; that was right;

  This gives us leisure, for she rests secure

  Upon your bloody service, and the sentence

  Is unfulfilled the while, and we gain time.

  MORTIMER (angrily).

  No, we are losing time.

  LEICESTER.

  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

  Yes! I will make the attempt, strain every nerve.

  MORTIMER.

  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 power is in your hands, would you but rouse

  The might of your dependents round about

  Your many castles, 'twere an host; and still

  Has Mary many secret friends. The Howards

  And Percies' noble houses, though their chiefs

  Be fallen, are rich in heroes; they but wait

  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! 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.

  LEICESTER.

  I am astonished-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 the heroic energy which once

  Was active in this land! it is subdued,

  A woman holds it under lock and key,

  And every spring of courage is relaxed.

  Follow my counsel-venture nothing rashly.

  Some one approaches-go--

  MORTIMER.

  And Mary hopes-

  Shall I return to her with empty comfort?

  LEICESTER.

  Bear her my vows of everlasting love.

  MORTIMER.

  Bear them yourself! I offered my assistance

  As her deliverer, not your messenger.

  [Exit.

  SCENE IX.

  ELIZABETH, LEICESTER.

  ELIZABETH.

  Say, who was here? I heard the sound of voices.

  LEICESTER (turning quickly and perplexed round on hearing the QUEEN).

  It was young Mortimer--

  ELIZABETH.

  How now, my lord:

  Why so confused?

  LEICESTER (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?

  LEICESTER.

  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 I.

  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 and sceptre at your feet!

  ELIZABETH.

  Oh, pity me, my Dudley; do not blame me;

  I cannot ask my heart. Oh, that had chosen

  Far otherwise! Ah, how I envy others

  Who can exalt the object of their love!

  But I am not so blest: 'tis not my fortune

  To place upon the brows of him, the dearest

  Of men to me, the royal crown of England.

  The Queen of Scotland was allowed to make

  Her hand the token of her inclination;

  She hath had every freedom, and hath drunk,

  Even to the very dregs, the cup of joy.

  LEICESTER.

  And now she drinks the bitter cup of sorrow.

  ELIZABETH.

  She never did respect the world's opinion;

  Life was to her a sport; she never courted

  The yoke to which I bowed 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 preferred the rigid duties

  Which royalty imposed on me; yet she,

  She 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!

  The willing slaves of levity and pleasure;

  Value that least which claims their reverence.

  And did not even Talbot, though gray-headed,

  Grow young again when speaking of her charms?

  LEICESTER.

  Forgive him, for he was her keeper once,

  And she has fooled him with her cunning wiles.

  ELIZABETH.

  And is it really true that she's so fair?

  So often have I been obliged 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 placed in thought

  You and Maria Stuart side by side.

  Yes! I confess I oft have felt a wish,

  If 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; she deserves to see,

  With her own eyes, and envy's glance is keen,

  Herself surpassed, to feel herself o'ermatched,

  As much by thee in form and princely grace

  As in each virtue that adorns the sex.

  ELIZABETH.

  In years she has the advantage--

  LEICESTER.

  Has she so?

  I never should have thought it. But her griefs,

  Her sufferings, indeed! 'tis possible

  Have brought down age upon her ere her time.

  Yes, and 'twould mortify her more to see thee

  As bride-she hath already turned her back

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

  Advancing towards the open arms of joy.

  See thee 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.

  ELIZABETH (with a careless air).

  I'm teazed to grant this interview.

  LEICESTER.

  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 extinguished by your beauty's splendor.

  Thus can you murder her as she hath wished

  To murder you. When she beholds your beauty,

  Guarded by modesty, and beaming bright,

  In the clear glory of unspotted fame

  (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 destructio
n 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 entered 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.

  ELIZABETH.

  Now? no, not now; no, Leicester; this must be

  Maturely weighed-I must with Burleigh--

  LEICESTER.

  Burleigh!

  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 generous deed the public voice.

  You can hereafter act as it may please you,

  To rid you of the hateful enemy.

  ELIZABETH.

  But would it then become me to behold

  My kinswoman in infamy and want?