University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

The Queen's Closet.
The Queen and Countess of Argyle seated at table. Rizzio at the harp.
RIZZIO
sings.
When the dead sleep
'Tis weakness to weep;
Their sorrows are past,
And the hope that will last,
Is that which looks over the Earth's narrow sphere,
For the summer is there, but the winter is here.
“When the dead rise
“From earth to the skies,
“Subdued is the night
“By the angel of light,
“And banished for ever's mortality's tear,
“For the summer is there, but the winter is here.”

QUEEN.
Thanks, Rizzio, for this sweetly plaintive strain.
Which haply we shall never hear beyond
The echoes of this night. Why do you rise?

RIZZIO.
O! Madam, I am sick with melancholy,
Dark thoughts of death, and parting, worse than death,
Fall on my heart, like shadows on a tomb.
“I'll gaze upon this outward scene awhile,
“And think myself a spirit in yon sky,
[Going to the window.
“And so forget the grief that troubles me.
“Look up, sweet Queen, and see with what a smile
“The current of the night runs on to morn.
“What is this wondrous universe, in midst
“Of which we seem to stand?—What are those orbs,
“And this surrounding sky, so richly wrought
“With gold, and painted with Heaven's light?—is this
“A frame to set so poor a picture in,
“As man? If so, there are, there must be, in him
“Great seeds, that shoot above the size of time;
“Immortal faculties, that grow for ever:
“Yes, even the breaking of the day-light sheds
“A revelation on his destiny.”

ARGYLE.
The wine cup, Signor, has a charm, they say,
To lift up sinking hearts; taste, taste, and try;
And if you'd have a name to grace the act,
Drink to the Queen.

[Gives a cup.
RIZZIO.
The Queen! (drinks.)
I feel refreshed.
No wonder wretchedness should fly to thee,
Thou bold artificer of unmade fortunes,
That spurn'st the dull routine events are chained in,
Laugh'st in the face of half-relenting truth,
And mak'st the slave a king. I feel thy power,
And thus I use the strength it girds me with,
To kneel where every heart should pay devotion,
And worship virtue's self in beauty's form.

[Kneels to the Queen.
QUEEN.
Nay, rise, and mock me not with praise: thy speech
Would better suit an angel's excellence.

RIZZIO.
Then what art thou, bright vision of my soul,
That look'st as heaven were here? Ah! must I go
From hence, for ever into banishment?
O Queen! I'm punished, and I well deserve it;
For let me now confess I have deceived
Myself and thee:—I was the willing dupe
Of mine own artifice. 'Twas love alone
That, covered with the name of gratitude,
Lurk'd in my treacherous heart.

QUEEN.
Why have you told
A secret that should never see the light?

RIZZIO.
Because I have not e'en the virtue to
Conceal it. Seeing how you pitied me,
And, in your gracious favour, took my part,
I saw my crime, but saw not to correct it.
E'en now, I cannot, must not, will not leave thee,
Though death and ruin be my portion here.

QUEEN.
O Rizzio! when too late, I see my own
Rash conduct too; I've been to blame for much
Of this distress and error: I have acted
Lightly, not guiltily; but guilt and shame
Have small beginnings both: 'tis hell's device
To plunge it's victim into hopeless crime.
[A noise outside—they all start.
What sound was that?

ARGYLE.
It was an awful sound:
I'll seek to find the cause.

[Exit.
QUEEN.
Rizzio, if aught
Of ill should fall on thee, for my sake, how
Could I support it?

RIZZIO.
Be not downcast, Madam.
We're in your palace, and your palace is
The seat of your security, where all
Your crowned ancestors have kept their state:
Their memories are like ethereal guards,
And, with a charge from Heaven, they banish insult.

QUEEN.
Still, still, a sad foreboding shakes my soul—
The hour, the previous silence, and that sound!
The shudder of an earthquake seemed to follow it.
[Countess of Argyle rushes in, and throws herself at the Queen's feet.
How now, Argyle! What means that look of fright?
Speak out at once—say something, or do something
To snatch us from our fear.

ARGYLE.
O Madam! madam!
When I have breath, I'll tell you—There's some evil
On foot within the palace.

QUEEN.
What? from whom?
Have you seen aught that showed this horror to you?

ARGYLE.
I have;—in th' outward porch, I saw a group
Of men, all armed:—the King, the King, was with 'em.

RIZZIO.
Then, 'tis my life they seek!

QUEEN.
But hear her! hear her!

ARGYLE.
Amongst the rest, was Ruthven, clad in steel.
Hark! 'twas the crash of armour.

[A crash is heard.
QUEEN.
No; 'twas but
The wind; secure the door—bolt it.

ARGYLE.
'Tis fast.

[They secure the door.
RIZZIO.
I hear the sound of footsteps.

QUEEN.
Heavenly powers!
O Rizzio, fear not: still the Queen protects thee.

RIZZIO.
The sound comes still!

QUEEN.
What's to be done? Yon window—
O no; the height's too great. Oh, powers of Heaven!
Ye, ye alone, can shield us—save us!

[The tapestry which covers a secret door is raised, and Ruthven appears in armour at the head of the Conspirators—except Morton.
QUEEN.
(shrieks.)
Ah!
[rushing down with Rizzio and Argyle.
Pale warrior, com'st thou from the realm unknown,
A semblance only of the man thou wast;
But art no longer? or is't life we see,
So like to death that we are horrified?
Speak to me;—wilt not speak?—then, Darnley, tell me
What are these men; why are they here in arms?
Are these companions for a lady's chamber,
Or suit they with a Queen's?

DARNLEY.
They better suit it
Than one I here behold, standing behind thee.

RUTHVEN.
Rizzio, come forth!

QUEEN.
'Tis Ruthven speaks at last,
And murder sounds in every frightful tone.
Ho! there!—Call in the guard!

DARNLEY.
The guard is here.

QUEEN.
What! are my faithful sentinels exchanged
For such as these, whose watch is like the wolf's,
Not for defence, but for aggression?

RUTHVEN.
Madam,
I did not mean to speak: I came to act;
But as your Majesty will have it otherwise,
I must obey the call. You see before you
A living man, but dying as he lives;
A dying man, but living to perform
An act of cold and calm severity,
By justice self imposed. Nay, madam, frown not,
Nor think to look me down. I have no fear;
Or if I had, I've nothing now to fear for.
Old, desolate, and childless, here I stand—
I am not of your kind, nor of your clan,
Nor of your world; but dead alike to all;—
Yet I've a sense of what I owe my country,
And that hath brought me, lock'd in martial mail,
Against whose iron ribs your words are dash'd,
In striking at my heart. (Thunder.)
Hark! 'tis Heaven's voice
Which says this hour must end the guilty joys
Of Holyrood for ever.

QUEEN.
Darnley, are you
A husband or a King?—a peasant's wife
Would not have need to ask for vengeance, if
She suffered such an insult in his presence!

RIZZIO.
The Queen is innocent, and I'm defenceless.
Look! I'm unarmed, and you are cased in steel:
I'm one, and you are many: spare me, therefore.

RUTHVEN.
Rizzio, come forth!—too long have you disgraced
That place, poisoning the ear of Majesty.
Rizzio, come forth! Let go the Queen's robe, caitiff.
Thus then, with the last effort of a hand
That once might pluck the giant from his bed,
Or heap, like Jove, th' eternal mountains on him,
I drag thee to thy fate.

[As he rushes towards Rizzio the Queen interposes.
QUEEN.
Hold off! hold off
Thy hand from the thrice blessed life of man!
Strike not the great Creator in his image!

RUTHVEN.
There is a freezing horror in your words—
But justice must be done—away with him!

[Flings Rizzio amongst the Conspirators, who drag him off the stage—Ruthven following.
QUEEN.
Murder!—they'll shed his blood! his guiltless blood!
Will no one save him from these savages?
Oh Heaven! 'tis on thy mercy that I call
For vengeance! O, be merciful, and kill
These killers!
[Enter Melville from folding doors.
Now, good Melville, is there hope?

MELVILLE.
Madam—

QUEEN.
Speak! speak! is he alive or dead?

MELVILLE.
He's past the reach of help or injury—
Ha! look to the Queen! she faints!

[He rushes towards her.
QUEEN.
No; no more fainting—
Ruthven again! How's this?—He glares more like
A wounded tiger than a dying man.

[Ruthven totters in, and sinks on a couch.
RUTHVEN.
Fetch me a cup of wine.

QUEEN.
Out, blood-stained monster!
Nor dare to ask for aught. Fetch him a cup
Of fire, that he may drink as demons drink,
For he is one.

[The Queen faints.
RUTHVEN.
I feel as if I lack'd
The strength to die. Will no one help me to't?

MELVILLE.
Here's wine.

[Gives him a cup.
RUTHVEN.
Thanks! thanks! there's vigour in the draught.
Where am I?—Wine!—more wine! How dark it is!
Midnight is not so dark. The stars have dropped
Into the Nadyr, and the Zenyth thunders
Like an uplifted hell-storm o'er my head.
Hush! there's a voice upon the wind.—Who spoke?
Who said the heavens are wrathful at the deed?
Who dared to breathe that Ruthven is a murderer?
For Scotland—'Twas for Scotland—for our country.
Attest it, powers above, we struck for right—
For right.—'Tis doomsday with mankind,—
The pillars of the sky are tumbling—
And all created nature feels the shock
Of the main works above. Rage on, rage on—
Ye dreadful sweepings of the thunder store;
Scatter me, bones and all, to the wind's fury.
Still I repeat, it was a rightful blow.
'Twas for our Country! 'Twas—'twas for our Country!

[dies.