Kitabı oku: «Mary Stuart», sayfa 9

SCENE VIII

Enter BURLEIGH, LEICESTER, and PAULET.

[LEICESTER remains in the background, without raising his eyes; BURLEIGH, who remarks his confusion, steps between him and the QUEEN.

BURLEIGH

 
   I come, my Lady Stuart, to receive
   Your last commands and wishes.
 

MARY

 
                   Thanks, my lord.
 

BURLEIGH

 
   It is the pleasure of my royal mistress
   That nothing reasonable be denied you.
 

MARY

 
   My will, my lord, declares my last desires;
   I've placed it in the hand of Sir Amias,
   And humbly beg that it may be fulfilled.
 

PAULET

 
   You may rely on this.
 

MARY

 
               I beg that all
   My servants unmolested may return
   To France, or Scotland, as their wishes lead.
 

BURLEIGH

 
   It shall be as you wish.
 

MARY

 
                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.
 

BURLEIGH

 
                It shall be done.
   What wishes else?
 

MARY

 
             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
   With which I spoke to her. May God preserve her
   And bless her with a long and prosperous reign.
 

BURLEIGH

 
   Say, do you still adhere to your resolve,
   And still refuse assistance from the dean?
 

MARY

 
   My lord, I've made my peace with God.
 

[To PAULET.

 
                       Good sir,
   I have unwittingly caused you much sorrow,
   Bereft you of your age's only stay.
   Oh, let me hope you do not hate my name.
 

PAULET (giving her his hand)

 
   The Lord be with you! Go your way in peace.
 

SCENE IX

HANNAH KENNEDY, and the other women of the QUEEN crowd into the room with marks of horror. The SHERIFF follows them, a white staff in his hand; behind are seen, through the open doors, men under arms.

MARY

 
   What ails thee, Hannah? Yes, my hour is come.
   The sheriff comes to lead me to my fate,
   And part we must. Farewell!
 

KENNEDY and CURL

 
                  We 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.
 

BURLEIGH

 
   For this I have no warrant.
 

MARY

 
                  How, my lord;
   Can you deny me, then, this small petition?
   Respect 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.
 

BURLEIGH

 
   'Tis ordered that no woman shall ascend
   The scaffold steps with you. Their tears and moans —
 

MARY

 
   She shall not weep, my lord; she shall not moan;
   I answer for my 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 my death.
 

PAULET (to BURLEIGH)

 
   Yield to her wishes.
 

BURLEIGH

 
              Be it so.
 

MARY

 
                    I now
   Have nothing in this world to wish for more.
 

[She takes the crucifix, and kisses it.

 
   My God! My Comforter! My blest Redeemer!
   As once thy arms were stretched upon the cross,
   Let them be now extended to receive me!
 

[She turns round to go; at the same moment her eyes fall upon LEICESTER, who, on her going, starts involuntarily, and turns his eyes towards her; at this sight MARY trembles, her knees fail her, she is about to fall, when LEICESTER catches at her, and receives her in his arms; she regards him for some time earnestly, and in silence; he cannot support her looks; at length she speaks.

 
   You keep your word, my Lord of Leicester: for
   You promised me your arm to lead me forth
   From prison, and you lend it to me now.
   At length the wished-for day is come, and what
   Was 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 forever.
   All is fulfilled, and you have saved your honor.
 

[He stands as if annihilated; she continues, with a gentle voice.

 
   Yes, Leicester; not for liberty alone
   I wished to be indebted to your hands.
   You should have made me bless that liberty.
   Led by your hand, and happy in your love,
   I hoped once more to taste the joys of life.
   Yes; now that I'm prepared from all the world
   To part, and to become a happy spirit,
   Whom earthly inclinations tempt no more!
   Now, Leicester, I may venture to confess
   Without a blush the frailty I have conquered;
   Farewell, my lord; and, if you can, be happy!
   To woo two queens has been your daring aim;
   You have disdained a tender, loving heart,
   Betrayed it in the hope to win a proud one:
   Kneel at the feet of Queen Elizabeth!
   May your reward not prove your punishment.
   Farewell; I now have nothing more on earth.
 

[She goes, preceded by the SHERIFF; at her side MELVIL and her nurse; BURLEIGH and PAULET follow;

the others, wailing, follow her with their eyes till she disappears; they then retire through the other two doors.

SCENE X

LEICESTER (remaining alone).

 
   Do I live still? Can I still bear to live?
   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 lost?
   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 slumbering shame?
   Must she in death surround me with love's toils?
   Lost, wretched man! No more it suits thee now
   To melt away in womanly compassion:
   Love's golden bliss lies not upon thy path,
   Then arm thy breast in panoply of steel,
   And henceforth be thy brows of adamant!
   Wouldst thou not lose the guerdon of thy guilt,
   Thou must uphold, complete it daringly!
   Pity be dumb; mine eyes be petrified!
   I'll see – I will be witness of her fall.
      [He advances with resolute steps towards the door
 

through which MARY passed; but stops suddenly half way.

 
   No! No! The terrors of all hell possess me.
   I cannot look upon the dreadful deed;
   I cannot see her die! Hark! What was that?
   They are already there. Beneath my feet
   The bloody business is preparing. Hark!
   I hear their voices. Hence! Away, away
   From this abode of misery and death!
 

[He attempts to escape by another door;

finds it locked, and returns.

 
   How! 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!
   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 awhile, he is seen with a convulsive motion suddenly to shrink and faint away; a confused hum of voices is heard at the same moment from below, and continues for some time.

SCENE XI

The Second Chamber in the Fourth Act.

ELIZABETH (entering from a side door; her gait and action expressive of the most violent uneasiness)

 
   No message yet arrived! What! no one here!
   Will evening never come! Stands the sun still
   In its ethereal course? I can no more
   Remain 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 not now arrest its course.
   Who's there?
 

SCENE XII

Enter a PAGE.

ELIZABETH

 
   Returned alone? Where are the lords?
 

PAGE

 
   My Lord High-Treasurer and the Earl of Leicester?
 

ELIZABETH

 
   Where are they?
 

PAGE

 
            They are not in London.
 

ELIZABETH

 
                        No!
   Where are they then?
 

PAGE

 
              That no one could inform me;
   Before the dawn, mysteriously, in haste
   They quitted London.
 

ELIZABETH (exultingly)

 
              I am Queen of England!
 

[Walking up and down in the greatest agitation.

 
   Go – call me – no, remain, boy! She is dead;
   Now have I room upon the earth at last.
   Why do I shake? Whence comes this aguish 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 here?
 

[To the PAGE.

 
   Command my secretary, Davison,
   To come to me this instant. Let the Earl
   Of Shrewsbury be summoned. Here he comes.
 

[Exit PAGE.

SCENE XIII

Enter SHREWSBURY.

ELIZABETH

 
   Welcome, my noble lord. What tidings; say
   It cannot be a trifle which hath led
   Your footsteps hither at so late an hour.
 

SHREWSBURY

 
   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 wished
   Once more to put their evidence to proof.
   On my arrival the lieutenant seemed
   Embarrassed and perplexed; refused to show me
   His prisoners; but my threats obtained admittance.
   God! what a sight was there! With frantic looks,
   With hair dishevelled, on his pallet lay
   The Scot like one tormented by a fury.
   The miserable man no sooner saw me
   Than 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 sovereign's destiny, for vague reports
   Had somehow reached the dungeons of the Tower
   That she had been condemned to suffer death.
   When I confirmed these tidings, adding, too,
   That on his evidence she had been doomed, —
   He started wildly up, – caught by the throat
   His fellow-prisoner; with the giant strength
   Of madness tore him to the ground and tried
   To strangle him. No sooner had we saved
   The wretch from his fierce grapple than at once
   He turned his rage against himself and beat
   His breast with savage fists; then cursed himself
   And his companions to the depths of hell!
   His evidence was false; the fatal letters
   To Babington, 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 accused his mistress falsely;
   I bore false witness and am cursed forever!
 

ELIZABETH

 
   You said yourself that he had lost his wits;
   A madman's words prove nothing.
 

SHREWSBURY

 
                    Yet this madness
   Serves in itself to swell the proof. My liege,
   Let me conjure thee; be not over-hasty;
   Prithee, give order for a new inquiry!
 

ELIZABETH

 
   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.

ELIZABETH

 
   The sentence, sir, which I but late intrusted
   Unto your keeping; where is it?
 

DAVISON (in the utmost astonishment)

 
                    The sentence!
 

ELIZABETH (more urgent)

 
   Which yesterday I gave into your charge.
 

DAVISON

 
   Into my charge, my liege!
 

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!
 

SHREWSBURY

 
   Restore it, sir, affairs have changed since then,
   The inquiry must be set on foot anew.
 

DAVISON

 
   Anew! Eternal mercy!
 

ELIZABETH

 
               Why this pause,
   This hesitation? Where, sir, is the paper?
 

DAVISON

 
   I am undone! Undone! My fate is sealed!
 

ELIZABETH (interrupting him violently)

 
   Let me not fancy, sir —
 

DAVISON

 
                Oh, I am lost!
   I have it not.
 

ELIZABETH

 
           How? What?
 

SHREWSBURY

 
                  Oh, God in heaven!
 

DAVISON

 
   It is in Burleigh's hands – since yesterday.
 

ELIZABETH

 
   Wretch! 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! When did I order you
   To give the paper into Burleigh's hands?
 

DAVISON

 
   Never expressly in so many words.
 

ELIZABETH

 
   And, paltering villain I dare you then presume
   To construe, as you list, my words – and lay
   Your bloody meaning on them? Wo 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!
 

SHREWSBURY

 
            I see! Oh, God in heaven!
 

ELIZABETH

 
   What say you?
 

SHREWSBURY

 
           If the knight has dared 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.

BURLEIGH (bowing 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. DAVIDSON wrings his hands in despair.

ELIZABETH

 
               Speak, my lord; did you
   From me receive the warrant?
 

BURLEIGH

 
                  No, my queen;
   From Davison.
 

ELIZABETH

 
           And did he in my name
   Deliver it?
 

BURLEIGH

 
          No, that I cannot say.
 

ELIZABETH

 
   And dared you then to execute the writ
   Thus hastily, nor wait to know my pleasure?
   Just was the sentence – we are free from blame
   Before the world; yet it behooved thee not
   To intercept our natural clemency.
   For this, my lord, I banish you my presence;
   And as this forward will was yours alone
   Bear you alone the curse of the misdeed!
 

[To DAVISON.

 
   For you, sir; who have traitorously o'erstepped
   The bounds of your commission, and betrayed
   A sacred pledge intrusted to your care,
   A more severe tribunal is prepared:
   Let him be straight conducted to the Tower,
   And capital arraignments filed against him.
   My honest Talbot, you alone have proved,
   'Mongst all my counsellors, an upright man:
   You shall henceforward be my guide – my friend.
 

SHREWSBURY

 
   Oh! 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 is growing too stiff
   To set the seal upon your later deeds.
 

ELIZABETH

 
   Will he forsake me, who has saved my life?
 

SHREWSBURY

 
   'Tis little I have done: I could not save
   Your nobler part. Live – govern happily!
   Your rival's dead! Henceforth you've nothing more
   To fear – henceforth to nothing pay regard.
 

[Exit.

ELIZABETH (to the EARL of KENT, who enters)

 
   Send for the Earl of Leicester.
 

KENT

 
                    He desires
   To be excused – he is embarked for France.
 

The Curtain drops