Kitabı oku: «In Byways of Scottish History», sayfa 7

 
In Glasco towne I entrenched my bandes,
and they in Paselee, nor far distant from thence,
where erelie on the morrowe, west by the sande,¹⁷⁷
they gave me larum with warlicke pretence;
we were in armes but they were gone thence,
to the ffeldes we marcht in battell array,
expectinge our foos, but they were awaye.
 

—

 
when fame had brought that the Llords were gone
to Edenbrough towne to wage¹⁷⁸ men of warre,
to supplie there force, and make them more stronge
of expert trayns¹⁷⁹ to joyne in this jarre,
I hasted forwarde to interrupt them there,
but by the way I harde they were gone
from Edenbrough, and had clene left the towne.
 

In a stanza following immediately upon this, and descriptive of the course adopted by Mary on her arrival in Edinburgh, we find the confirmation of a statement made by Captain Cockburn,¹⁸⁰ but indignantly denied as a shameless fabrication by those historians whose aim it has been to clear the Queen from every imputation. He asserts, not only that she imposed a fine of £20,000 on certain of the burgesses of Edinburgh after the termination of the expedition, but also that previously to this she had extorted 14,000 marks from them for the support of her army. It is the latter part of this statement which has been challenged, but which undoubtedly receives strong support from the following verses: —

 
And some that had incurred my blame,
by worde or wronge or other like meane,
for redye coigne I compounded with them,
that I might better my soulgiers maynteyne,
th'unwonted charge that I did susteane
was thus considered in everie dome¹⁸¹
to surpasse the yerelie revenue of my crowne.
 

Passing over the Queen's expedition into Fifeshire and the capture of Castle Campbell, "the castle of gloom", a formidable stronghold belonging to her rebel brother-in-law, the Duke of Argyle, the historical part of the narrative hastens on to the final act, the march to Dumfries and the Lords' retreat across the Border. The inglorious termination of the rebellion has been pithily summed up by Sir James Melville in his Memoirs: "Her Majesty again convened forces to pursue the rebels, till at length they were compelled to flee into England for refuge, to her who promised by her ambassadors to wear her crown in their defence, in case they were driven to any strait for their opposition unto the marriage".¹⁸² The poet is scarcely less concise in his record of an event which he could neither hide nor gloss over, but upon which he evidently had no wish to dwell: —

 
We came to Domfreis to attempt our might,
but all was in vane, our foos were awaie;
there was none there that wold us resiste,
nor yett affirme that I did gainesaye.
 

—

 
They unable to abide or resist my might
entred perforce into th'inglishe pale.
In Carlile they all were constrayned to light,
where the Lord Scrowpe entreated them all;
and th'Erle of Bedforde leivetenante generall
of th'inglish northe, whose fervent affection
I ever dreaded to deale in this action,
whose noble hart enflamed with ruthe
to see theis Llords driven to dystresse,
sought the meanes he could to advance the truthe.
 

—

 
What racke, Randolphe? Thou thie selffe knowes
I retorned a victore without any blows.
 

Though this seemed to indicate a point where the Fantasie might come to a fitting close, it is drawn out for fully a hundred lines in order that the moral of the whole narrative may be duly brought home to the reader. So far as Mary herself is concerned, the gist of her long homily may be given in her concluding words: —

 
'Tis fittest for a prince,
and such as have the regyments of realmes,
there subjects hartes with myldnes to convince,
and justice mixt, avoydinge all extremes;
ffor like as Phebus with his cherefull beames
do freshlie force the fragrant flowers to floryshe,
so rulers' mildness subjects love do noryshe.
 

The poet's own moralizing, with which, as with an epilogue, the whole poem is brought to an end, is wider in its application. The dangers which beset greatness and the advantages which accompany "golden mediocrity" are its leading theme, and are set forth in a passage which brings together a number of familiar illustrations drawn from inanimate nature: —

 
I then said to myself methinkes this may assure all those that clyme to honor's seate there state may not endure;
the hills of highest hight are sonest perskt with sone, the silver streames with somer's drowght are letten oft to rone,
the loftiest trees and groves are ryfest rent with winde, the brushe and breres that thickest grow the flame will sonest finde,
the loftie rerynge towers there fall the ffeller bee, most ferse dothe fulgent lyghtnyng lyght where furthest we may see,
the gorgyous pallace deckt and reared vp to the skye are sonner shokt with wynter stormes then meaner buildings bee,
vpon the highest mounts the stormy wynds do blowe, the sewer seate and quyet lief is in the vale belowe;
by reason I regawrde the mean estate most sure, that wayteth on the golden meane & harmles may endure;
the man that wyselie works in welthe doth feare no tide, when fortune failes dispeareth not but stedfastlie abide,
for He that sendeth stormes with windes and wynter blasts,
and steanes with hale the wynter face & fils ech soile with frosts
He slaks the force of cold he sends the somer hote, he causethe bayle to stormy harts of joy the spring & rote.
Reader regawrde this well as I of force nowe must, appoinct thie mewse to merke my verse thus ruffled up in rust,
and lerne this last of me: Imbrace thie porpose prest, and lett no storme to blowe the blasts to lose the port of rest;
and tho the gale be great & frowarde fortune fayle, againe when wynde do serve at will hoist not to hye the saile
ffor prowffe may toche the stone to prove this firme and plaine,
that no estate may countervale the gyld or golden meane.
 

Both the poem and the Epistle Dedicatory bear the signature of Thomas Jenye. It is the name of an unscrupulous adventurer who held some subordinate position in the service of Thomas Randolph, whilst he was in Scotland, and afterwards of Sir Henry Norris, in the Netherlands. From the literary point of view, the most noteworthy feature of his Fantasie is the barefacedness with which he pilfered, not only the ideas, but the actual words of others. Indeed, in its introduction and conclusion, which consist, for the most part, of moral reflections, Jenye's satire is little better than a patchwork, rather cleverly made up, it is true, of lines purloined from Surrey, Grimsald, Sackville, and the other writers who figure with them in Tottell's Miscellany. But besides being a curiosity in plagiarism, the Fantasie is a valuable historical document, by reason of the accuracy with which it describes the various incidents of Murray's revolt, of which Jenye was practically an eyewitness.

THE FIRST "STUART" TRAGEDY AND ITS AUTHOR

Mary, Queen of Scots, was beheaded in 1587. Fourteen years later there was published in Rouen a play which bore the title of Tragédie de la Reine d'Escosse, and which had for its subject the condemnation and death of Elizabeth's unfortunate prisoner. The author styled himself Anthoine de Montchrestien sieur de Vasteville; but it was alleged by his enemies that he was nothing more aristocratic than the son of an apothecary of Falaise called Mauchrestien. He had, however, the good fortune to be brought up, though in what connection is uncertain, with two lads belonging to a family of authentic nobility; and by the time he reached his twentieth year, he had the training and education of a gentleman of the period. With the sword which he assumed as the emblem of the class to which he claimed to belong, he adopted the fashionable readiness to draw it on the slightest provocation. His first recorded encounter, however, very nearly proved his last. With the odds of three to one against him, he was grievously wounded and left for dead on the highway. But he recovered, and, in the true spirit of a Norman, consoled himself for his defeat and his injuries by suing the chief of his adversaries, the Baron de Gouville. That he obtained damages to the amount of 12,000 livres may be taken as a proof that all the blame was not on his side. The success of this legal action encouraged him to take proceedings against one of his trustees, who had failed to do his duty by him. A further indemnity of 1000 livres was the result. About this time, too, he married a rich widow whose good graces he had previously secured by helping her to win a lawsuit in which her husband had been the defender.

As early as 1596, Montchrestien had published the tragedy of Sophonisbe. Five years later there appeared a volume bearing his name, and containing a miscellaneous collection of prose and verse, including five tragedies, of which one was the Mary Stuart play, with the running title of l'Escossoise. In the midst of a literary success to which numerous sets of complimentary verses testify, a real tragedy changed the whole course of the Norman adventurer's career. In a duel with a young nobleman, he killed his adversary. Whether he did so in fair fight or, as his detractors alleged, by means of a disloyal stratagem, he was equally amenable to the severe law against single combat which Henry IV had lately promulgated. To no purpose did the poet appeal to the king in some eloquent verses in which he begged to be allowed to expiate his offence by dying for his sovereign on the field of honour: —

 
"Armé sur un cheval, en tenant une pique,
Non sur un échafaud en vergogne publique."¹⁸³
 

He was obliged to seek safety in exile, and retired to England. There his "Stuart" tragedy was of service to him. He presented it to James, who showed his appreciation of the work by interceding with the King of France on behalf of the author. The result was favourable, but not immediate; and several years had to elapse before the outlawry was reversed.

Montchrestien had gone to England in the character of a poet and a gentleman. He returned to France to become an economist and manufacturer. In 1615 he published a volume entitled, Traicté de l'Œconomie Politique. Never before had the term been used; and the subject dealt with was as novel as its name. Shortly after this, the founder of the science for which such great destinies were in store, established a cutlery on the banks of the Loire. That his venture was successful seems hardly probable, for less than four years later he was engaged in the shipping trade. The story that he endeavoured to better his financial position by the desperate expedient of counterfeiting the coin of the realm rests on no trustworthy authority, and may be dismissed as one of the many calumnies by which his enemies sought to blacken his memory after his tragic death. That event took place in 1621; and the various incidents that led up to it might well be shaped into a novel of adventure, though they must here be summarized in a few brief sentences. When religious troubles again broke out in France, after the Assembly of La Rochelle, Montchrestien threw in his lot with the Protestant party. He went about for some months in his native province of Normandy, endeavouring to organize an insurrection. On the 7th of October he, together with his servant and six Huguenot captains, was taken by surprise in an inn. In the scuffle that followed, a pistol shot through the head put an end to his adventurous career. According to the barbarous custom which then prevailed in France, as it did in Scotland also, sentence was pronounced over his dead body. It was burnt and the ashes were scattered to the winds.

When Montchrestien wrote l'Escossoise, six years before the birth of Corneille, tragedy made no attempt to depict the conflict of antagonistic passions, but contented itself with the exposition of a pathetic situation, considered from various points of view. When this had been set forth with sufficient detail, the dénouement, instead of being enacted before the spectators, was indicated in a concluding narrative. All Montchrestien's tragedies are drawn up on this plan; and he is so faithful to the old classic form that he retains even the chorus. It is worthy of notice, however, that what has been called "dialogue cornélien", that quick alternation of antithetical couplets and even single lines, suggestive of the sharp clashing of swords in the hands of two well-matched opponents, is one of the characteristics of his manner, and is handled by him with considerable skill and vigour.

In the Stuart tragedy the "entreparleurs" are the Queen of Scots, the Queen of England, an anonymous Councillor, Davison, a Master of the Household, a Messenger, a Page, and two Choruses, one composed of Mary's female attendants, and another consisting of the "Estates" of England. The first act is opened by Elizabeth, who, in a long speech which she addresses to her Councillor, bewails her hard fate and her precarious tenure of both crown and life. She is particularly hurt at the ingratitude of the Queen of Scots, whom she has deprived of her liberty, it is true, but otherwise treated right royally. And apostrophizing the rival whose fair face hides so much disloyalty, envy, and spite, so much fury and so much daring, she asks her whether her heart is not touched at the thought of the countless ills to which England must become a prey if it should lose its lawful Sovereign.

 
"Une Reine exilée, errante, fugitive,
Se degageant des siens qui la tenoient captive,
Vint surgir à nos bords contre sa volonté:
Car son cours malheureux tendoit d'autre costé.
Je l'ay bien voirement dés ce temps arrestée,
Mais, hors la liberté Royalement traitée;
Et voulant mille fois sa chaine relascher,
Je ne sçay quel destin est venu m'empescher.
 

—

 
O cœur trop inhumain pour si douce beauté,
Puis que tu peux couver tant de desloyauté,
D'envie et de despit, de fureur et d'audace,
Pourquoy tant de douceur fais-tu lire en ta face?
Tes yeux qui tous les cœurs prennent à leurs appas,
Sans en estre troublez, verront-ils mon trespas?
Ces beaux Astres luisans au ciel de ton visage,
De ma funeste mort seront-ils le présage?
 
 
N'auras-tu point le cœur touché d'affliction,
Voyant ceste belle Isle en desolation,
En proye à la discorde en guerres allumée,
Au meurtre de ses fils par ses fils animée?
Verras-tu sans douleur les soldats enragez,
Massacrer à leurs pieds les vieillards outragez,
Egorger les enfants presence de leurs peres
Les pucelles forcer au giron de leurs meres,
Et les fleuves encor regorger sur leurs bords
Par les pleurs des vivans et par le sang des morts?"¹⁸⁴
 

Enlarging on this idea, the Councillor urges the Queen to put her prisoner to death: – It is a pious deed to kill a murderess; it cannot be displeasing to a just God that punishment should be inflicted on the wicked; and, moreover, has not the impunity of vice often brought ruin and death on kingdoms and on kings? To such arguments as these, Elizabeth replies that kings and queens are answerable to God alone; that Sovereigns who put their enemies to death increase instead of diminishing their number; and that severity only engenders hatred. And her last words contain the half-expressed resolve to try what clemency will do to disarm her rival. This the Councillor meets with the significant question —

 
"d'un ingrat obligé
Que peut-on espérer que d'en être outragé?"¹⁸⁵
 

To close the act the Chorus then appears and sings the delights of the golden age and the simple life, as compared with the troubles and anxieties that embitter the existence of princes.

When the short second act opens, sentence of death has been passed on Mary Stuart, and the Estates of England appear before their Queen to demand that, for their safety, the sentence shall be carried out. Elizabeth accedes so far as to promise that she will leave the matter in their hands. But that is only a device to gain time. As soon as she is by herself, she calls up a vivid picture of what foreign nations and posterity will think of her if she allows the blood of a Sovereign to stain the scaffold, and is so horrified at it that she determines to interfere. She leaves the stage and disappears from the tragedy with the words:

 
"Je rompray cependant le coup de l'entreprise".¹⁸⁶
 

In spite of the hopes inspired by Elizabeth, the next act introduces Davison, who has been dispatched to notify her sentence to the royal prisoner, and who, in an effective monologue, expresses his sense of the responsibility which he is incurring and of the odium which he will be made to bear:

 
"La charge qu'on m'impose est certes bien fascheuse,
Mais je crains qu'elle soit encor plus perilleuse:
Je vay fraper un coup, mais soudain je le voy,
Je le voy, malheureux, retomber dessus moy.
 

—

 
Justement poursuivi de rancune et d'envie,
Pour m'estre à ce forfait ainsi tost resolu,
De tous également je seray mal voulu.
 

—

 
Sur moy seul tout de mesme on voudra desormais
Prendre vengeance d'elle, et je n'en pourray mais:
Où ceux qui sont auteurs du mal de ceste Reine,
Au milieu de mes pleurs se riront de ma peine.
Le sort est bien cruel qui me donne la loy!
Je ne le veux point faire et faire je le doy:
Il faut bien le vouloir; car c'est force forcée;
Tremblant je m'y resous."¹⁸⁷
 

Davison is followed by Mary, whom her attendants accompany. In a touching speech she tells the sad story of her life – her unhappy childhood, her brief reign in France, her return to her Scottish kingdom, of which the distracted state is described in a few vigorous lines:

 
"Ayant laissé glisser dedans la fantaisie
La folle opinion d'une rance hérésie,
Ayant pour un erreur fardé de nouveauté
Abreuvé son esprit de la déloyauté,
Il esmeut furieux des querelles civiles,
Il révolte les champs, il mutine les villes,
Il conjure ma honte et me recherche à tort
Croyant qu'à mon espoux j'eusse brassé la mort."¹⁸⁸
 

To this accusation of having plotted the death of her husband she replies with an impassioned apostrophe to him, calling upon him to rise from the dead and bear witness to her innocence. Then she recalls her flight from Scotland, and, forgetful of historical fact, attributes it to adverse fate and a furious storm that she was obliged to land on the inhospitable shores of the barbarous English:

 
"Peuple double et cruel, dont les suprêmes loix
Sont les loix de la force et de la tyrannie,
Dont le cœur est couvé de rage et félonie
Dont l'œil se paist de meutre et n'a rien de plus cher
Que voir le sang humain sur la terre espancher."¹⁸⁹
 

And now that no hope of liberty remains, the royal captive longs for the death which she believes to have already been prepared for her. At this point there is a really dramatic situation. The sorrowing Queen has scarcely been assured by the Chorus that her enemies will not dare proceed to such extremes, when a page announces the approach of a royal messenger. It is Davison. He has come to make her death sentence known to the prisoner, who welcomes it as the news of her speedy deliverance.

The fourth act is a lofty elegy – Mary's farewell to the world. The tender and touching lines with which it opens indicate the spirit with which it is animated throughout.

 
"Voici l'heure derniére en mes vœux désirée
Où je suis de longtemps constamment préparée;
Je quitte sans regret ce limon vitieux
Pour luire pure et nette en la clarté des Cieux,
Où l'esprit se radopte à sa tige éternelle,
Afin d'y refleurir d'une vie immortelle.
Ouvre-toi, Paradis!..
Et vous anges tuteurs des bienheureux fidéles,
Déployez dans le vent les cerceaux de vos ailes,
Pour recevoir mon âme entre vos bras, alors
Qu'elle et ce chef royal voleront de mon corps …
Humble et dévotieuse, à Dieu je me présente
Au nom de son cher fils, qui sur la croix fiché
Dompta pour moi l'Enfer, la mort et le péché …
Tous ont failli, Seigneur, devant ta sainte face;
Si par là nous étions exilés de ta grâce,
A qui serait enfin ton salut réservé?
Qu'aurait servi le bois de tant de sang lavé?"¹⁹⁰
 

In the fifth act, devoted to the usual narrative of the catastrophe, a messenger tells the Master of the Household how nobly and bravely his mistress met her death:

 
"Comme elle est parvenue au milieu de la salle,
Sa face paroist belle encor qu'elle soit palle,
Non de la mort hastée en sa jeune saison,
Mais de l'ennuy souffert en si longue prison.
 

—

 
Comme tous demeuroient attachez à sa veue
De mille traits d'amour mesme en la mort pourveue,
D'un aussi libre pied que son cœur estoit haut,
Elle monte au coupeau du funebre eschaffaut,
Puis sousriant un peu de l'œil et de la bouche:
Je ne pensois mourir en cette belle couche;
Mais puis qu'il plaist à Dieu user ainsi de moi,
Je mourray pour sa gloire en deffendant ma foy.
Je conqueste une Palme en ce honteux supplice,
Où je fay de ma vie à son nom sacrifice,
Qui sera celebrée en langages divers;
Une seule couronne en la terre je pers,
Pour en posseder deux en l'eternel Empire,
La Couronne de vie, et celle du Martyre.
 

—

 
Ce dit sur l'eschaffaut ployant les deux genoux,
Se confesse elle mesme, et refrappe trois coups
Sa poitrine dolente et baigne ses lumieres
De pleurs devotieux qui suivent ses prieres.
 

—

 
Puis tournant au Bourreau sa face glorieuse:
Arme quand tu voudras ta main injurieuse,
Frappe le coup mortel, et d'un bras furieux
Fay tomber le chef bas et voler l'âme aux cieux.
Il court oyant ces mots se saisir de la hache;
Un, deux, trois, quatre coups sur son col il delasche;
Car le fer aceré moins cruel que son bras
Vouloit d'un si beau corps differer le trespas.
Le tronc tombe à la fin, et sa mourante face
Par trois ou quatre fois bondit dessus la place."¹⁹¹
 

The lamentations of the Chorus close the pathetic scene. This is not yet tragedy; but it is not far from being splendid in parts. It is the work, if not of a dramatist, at least of an eloquent rhetorician combined with a lyric poet of high gifts. And when it is remembered that the play was written before his twenty-fifth year, by the man who afterwards showed his keen power of analysis and his psychological insight in his treatise on political economy, it is justifiable to regret that the circumstances of his adventurous life induced him to abandon the literary career which had opened so auspiciously for him.