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Дата написания1970-01-01
Язык книгиen
Возрастное ограничение12+
Жанры
зарубежная драматургиязарубежная классиказарубежная старинная литературалитература 18 векапьесы и драматургия

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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.

MARY.

I hear a step.

KENNEDY.

It is the nephew-In.

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