PAULET

These serious contemplations well become you.

MARY

   And know I then that some too ready hand
   May not abridge this tedious work of sorrow?
   I would indite my will and make disposal
   Of what belongs to me.

PAULET

               This liberty
   May be allowed to you, for England's queen
   Will not enrich herself by plundering you.

MARY

   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!

PAULET

   Your servants have been cared for; [and again
   You shall behold whate'er is taken from you
   And all shall be restored in proper season.]

[Going.

MARY

   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; no voice
   Can reach me through these prison-walls; my fate
   Lies in the hands of those who wish my ruin.
   A month of dread suspense is passed 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, amazed, 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 disappeared,
   And since that day all mouths are closed to me.
   In vain I seek to construe from your looks
   Which hath prevailed – my cause's innocence
   And my friends' zeal – or my foes' cursed counsel.
   Oh, break this silence! let me know the worst;
   What have I still to fear, and what to hope.

PAULET

Close your accounts with heaven.

MARY

                    From heaven I hope
   For mercy, sir; and from my earthly judges
   I hope, and still expect, the strictest justice.

PAULET

Justice, depend upon it, will be done you.

MARY

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.

PAULET

The day will shine upon it, doubt it not.]

MARY

Despatch is here the fashion. Is it meant
The murderer shall surprise me, like the judges?

PAULET

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

MARY (after 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.

PAULET

   The sovereigns of England have no fear
   But for their conscience and their parliament.
   What justice hath decreed her fearless hand
   Will execute before the assembled world.

SCENE III

The same. MORTIMER enters, and without paying attention to the QUEEN, addresses PAULET.

MORTIMER

Uncle, you're sought for.

[He retires in the same manner. The QUEEN remarks it, and turns towards PAULET, who is about to follow him.

MARY

                 Sir, one favor more
   If you have aught to say to me – from you
   I can bear much – I reverence your gray hairs;
   But cannot bear that young man's insolence;
   Spare me in future his unmannered rudeness.

PAULET

   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

MARY, KENNEDY.

KENNEDY

And dare the ruffian venture to your face
Such language! Oh, 'tis hard – 'tis past endurance.

MARY (lost in reflection)

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

KENNEDY

   So downcast, so depressed, my dearest lady!
   You, 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.

MARY

                   Well I know him —
   It is the bleeding Darnley's royal shade,
   Rising in anger from his darksome grave
   And never will he make his peace with me
   Until the measures of my woes be full.

KENNEDY

What thoughts are these —

MARY

                Thou may'st forget it, Hannah;
   But I've a faithful memory – 'tis this day
   Another wretched anniversary
   Of that regretted, that unhappy deed —
   Which I must celebrate with fast and penance.

KENNEDY

   Dismiss at length in peace this evil spirit.
   The penitence of many a heavy year,
   Of many a suffering, has atoned the deed;
   The church, which holds the key of absolution,
   Pardons the crime, and heaven itself's appeased.

MARY

   This long-atoned crime arises fresh
   And bleeding from its lightly-covered grave;
   My husband's restless spirit seeks revenge;
   No sacred bell can exorcise, no host
   In priestly hands dismiss it to his tomb.

KENNEDY

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.

KENNEDY

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

MARY

So tender, yet I drew
This heavy guilt upon my youthful head.

KENNEDY

   You were provoked by direst injuries,
   And by the rude presumption of the man,
   Whom out of darkness, like the hand of heaven,
   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, distinguished
   [Your work was his existence, and your grace
   Bedewed him like the gentle rains of heaven.]
   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 deserved disgust:
   The illusion, which till now had overcast
   Your judgment, vanished; 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, wished to play your king,
   [And strove, through fear, to force your inclination.]
   Before your eyes he had your favorite singer,
   Poor Rizzio, murdered; you did but avenge
   With blood the bloody deed —

MARY

                  And bloodily,
   I fear, too soon 'twill be avenged on me:
   You seek to comfort me, and you condemn me.

KENNEDY

   You were, when you consented to this deed,
   No more yourself; belonged not to yourself;
   The madness of a frantic love possessed you,
   And bound you to a terrible seducer,
   The wretched Bothwell. That despotic man
   Ruled you with shameful, overbearing will,
   And with his philters and his hellish arts
   Inflamed your passions.

MARY

All the arts he used
Were man's superior strength and woman's weakness.

KENNEDY

   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,
   Glowed 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, unblushingly, 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 forced the judges of the land to clear
   The murderer of his guilt. You went still further —
   O God!

MARY

Conclude – nay, pause not – say for this
I gave my hand in marriage at the altar.

KENNEDY

   O let an everlasting silence veil
   That dreadful deed: the heart revolts at it.
   A crime to stain the darkest criminal!
   Yet you are no such lost one, that I know.
   I nursed your youth myself – your heart is framed
   For tender softness: 'tis 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
   Their fatal residence, and there delight
   To act their dev'lish deeds; then hurry back
   Unto their native hell, and leave behind
   Remorse and horror in the poisoned 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 court
   With all the fortitude of innocence.