University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

Great Hall of the Tower, as a Court.
Enter Queen Mary, attended by Gardiner as Chancellor, Norfolk as High Steward, Arundel as Earl Marshal, Cranmer, Pembroke, Winchester, &c. After these, Jane Grey and Lord Guilford Dudley, with Duke of Northumberland, as prisoners, preceded by the Headsman carrying the axe with its edge from them. Duke and Duchess of Suffolk, &c.
MARY
[from the Throne.]
Open the court! Norfolk, High Steward presiding.

GARDINER.
I stand before your Highness and your Barons
Accuser of these Lords, and this sad Lady,
Of treasons, so notoriously sustained
By overt acts and speech we need not witness.
But something I must say touching the root
Of these offences. I have somewhere read
That in the Indian isles there grows a tree
Of goodliest aspect, spreading to the sun
A canopy of shade so redolent
Of odours, and attractive in that clime
By its inviting coolness, that the unwary
Are tempted to their ruin: for within
The beauty of that bower lurks Death: the air
Draws poison from its bloom, and all its shelters
Die! in that tree behold this criminal!
He in young Edward's court fatally flourished!
Our nobles sat within his shade, and perished!
Witness for me that princely Somerset,
The King's own uncle, noblest of the land!
What need to sum his wiles, rapacities?
Ye exiles, and extinguished hearths, make answer!
Sprung from a tainted stock, behold him leap,
As at a bound, even to the height of all!
From knighthood to a dukedom—favourite—
Sole minister of the inexperienced King:—
Managing all, responsible for all—
(Ah there we touch you, Sir,—responsible!)
Alone in power, alone you must account.
But why waste breath on petty crimes like these?
To mount the throne for him were past all compass:
But Sire of Kings he might be. Therefore he matched
His son to Lady Jane, a royal maiden;
Threatening the throne with dangerous approach.
The King might die? the royal sisters fall
By monstrous fictions of wrenched law o'erpowered!
The King might die! Alas! the King did die!
Died opportunely!—But I abstain. Not now
Is that foul deed in question—

NORTHUMBERLAND.
Foully you strike!
Hinting my life away, branding my fame
With rumours vile, and lying as the lips
That utter them!

NORFOLK.
You must be silent, Sir,
You shall be heard in your defence.

GARDINER.
That question
May well be pretermitted: but the fact
Is not, and cannot be, denied, he made
Or sought to make his son's wife Queen of England.
How he so practised on the dying King
I show not forth. The matter, not the manner,
Was the sufficient crime. Nor moot we here
The royal right to alter the succession.
Enough, the late King was deceived, enforced;
And, in the very agony of death,
Knew not his acts. My Lord of Canterbury!
You, who were present, know that this is true.
But why to you, or meaner personages,
Refer? The Queen saw; and can testify.

MARY.
I witnessed at the death-bed of my brother
Scenes of foul fraud and force; the prisoner present,
A busy agent—he will not deny it.

GARDINER.
My Lords! Religion was the plea for this.
Religion, a wide cloak for godless knaves!
What, knew they not the apostolick rule
That men are bound to obey even sinful Princes?
Who dares insinuate that our Queen's right rule
Shall be a snare for conscience? Hypocrites!
Why claim ye toleration, yet refuse it?
Faith your perpetual cry, yet would ye stifle
That Faith which is the trust of other hearts.
Your Bible is your Idol: all must bow
Before your exposition of its sense,
Or forfeit all—the very throne!—blind plotters!
To shun pretended dangers ye have plunged
Into assured destruction. Now, behold!
Irrevocable crime stands up for judgment!
My Lords, I claim your sentence!

NORFOLK.
Lady Jane,
And you, Lord Guilford Dudley, are you guilty?

JANE.
Strengthen me Thou who helpest all in trouble!
Flush my pale lips with truth—let fear not sully
My royal blood, fount of perpetual sorrow!
I wake from the vain dream of a blind sleep,
Nothing to hide, nothing extenuate.
My Lords, reverse to me this good hath brought,
That I who dimly saw, now plainly see,
And seeing loathe my fault, and loathing, leave it.
The bolts of heaven have split the aspiring tower
Of my false grandeur; and through every rent
The light of heaven streams in. Bear with me further—
I am ashamed to speak in such a presence—
But there is one—my dear, dear husband,—spare him!
One victim should suffice. My great offence
Needs expiation: I am here to make it.
My Lords, this day shall stand in English annals
For ever memorized; establishing
The law's dominion and the rightful rule.
In time to come it shall be known, ambition
Was not my nature though it makes my crime.
I waste your leisure—pardon me—I've done.
One grace alone I crave—in mercy weigh
My husband's sore temptation—spare my husband!

FAKENHAM
[aside].
She rises from the sea of her great trouble,
Like a pure infant glowing from the bath!

GUILFORD.
I too, my Lords, am guilty. Nought but youth,
And sad misguidance, and connubial love
Extenuate my guilt. I kneel for mercy!

NORFOLK.
Does my Lord Duke plead as his son hath pleaded?

NORTHUMBERLAND.
No! he hath pleaded as his fate constrains:
Albeit my limbs thereby are doubly shackled.
Madam! to you I turn. Trial by peers
Cannot to me be just. Of those who judge
How many are my noted foes!

PEMBROKE.
Not I!

NORTHUMBERLAND.
Ha! the vexed adder hisses! Well, my Lords!
If this be treason (which if rightly construed
By motives, as sure documents shall prove,
Might bear a milder name) shall men sit there,
There on that bench, once my accomplices?
It was no treason at the King's command,
To stablish the King's will by force of Law!
If treason, then it was not mine alone,
Who joined what all approved—

PEMBROKE.
You prompting them!

NORTHUMBERLAND.
Are you both judge and witness? Sacred honour!
Can such things be? That act of council bears
Its attestation in its signatures.
Give me the instrument. What names are here?
Some before mine. Here Thomas Cantuar;—
Here Marquis Winchester, Lord Treasurer,—
Here—worthy—Pembroke; and his son Lord Herbert,
The captain of the guard to Lady Jane.
Why, my Lords, sit you there, if I stand here?—
The reverend Prelate, labouring with dark tropes,
Spake of a poison tree—pointing at me
His sorry wit: if he implies by this
That in my heart this plot had origin,
I will not say he lies—my poor condition,
His office, bar that taunt—but I say this,
He wrongs me. Fanatick I have not been;
Nor disputant: too little versed am I
Even in the grammar of the science divine,
To make theology rebellion's text,
Or for my flag hang out a preacher's gown!
Too much my youth, devoted to my Prince,
And later life to labours of the State
Have turned my thoughts from heaven. Now on life's verge
With aching heart I stand, bound to clear up
Doubts that have long oppressed me. I have done.
Well know I that these judges will condemn me—
But thou, most pious Queen, pity my soul!

NORFOLK.
Barons of England you have heard. How say you?
Are these who stand accused before you guilty?

PEMBROKE.
Guilty, upon my honour!

ALL.
Guilty, guilty!

NORFOLK.
What doth her Grace award?

MARY.
The Law says—Death!

JANE.
O mercy for my husband!

MARY.
Jane, my People—
This realm of England—must have peace. Alas!
Too clearly I foresee peace and thy life
Are inconsistent things. Nathless, thy doom
Shall not be hurried. Time for thee—for me—
Must be reserved. Let sentence be recorded.
Against this hapless pair—no warrant written.
Sir John of Dudley! titles, wealth, domains,
Henceforth you forfeit: which may yet be shared
Among your worthier sons. That conscience-stricken
You do repent your spiritual misdeeds
We much rejoice to learn. The dean of Paul's
Our confessor shall yield you ghostly counsel.
Break up the court! you are released, my Lords!—
Come hither, Exeter! I would confer
With thee some half hour hence—in private—take
My hand. Adieu! till then.

[Exeunt Mary, Elizabeth, Nobles and others.
NORTHUMBERLAND
[aside to Guilford.]
Did you mark that?
My Lords, if one yet mindful of old times
Can heed a fallen man's prayer, I crave short audience:
Lord Exeter, you are no foe, I think—
Will you vouchsafe brief speech?

EXETER.
I am your servant.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
Courtenaye—you owe no wrong to me—nay, rather,
Friendship—well, call it service, if you will.
Service I claim, and you can yield. Observe me:
I hailed you once Plantagenet; you are so;
Heir of the house of York: and what of that?
I move you to no treason—start not, Sir!
We are watched—stand nearer. The Queen loves you, Courtenaye!
Tut man! I know it. Hear me patiently.

EXETER.
You try my patience, I confess.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
So be it.
Yet had I marvelled, if the man I spake to
In presence of yon headsman—you remember?—
Had checked me harshly. You, Plantagenet,
Loved by the Queen (ay, marry, and the Princess)
Must blend your pure blood with her doubtful strain.

EXETER.
Sir, this is idle.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
Not a whit—if you
Spurn not kind fortune: trample not your friends.
Your ear. The Queen, I grant you, is “no beauty
Unless age makes one!”—The Arragonian wears
A diadem, what though she be “a whelp!”
You mark?—or say you, take “chaste Boleyn's babe”—
She suits you best, and you affect her most—
But she is not the Queen. Take Mary Tudor!

EXETER.
My Lord! I see your drift.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
Ha! ha! you speak
With due respect once more. Fair be the omen!

EXETER.
What can I do?

NORTHUMBERLAND.
When, ere an hour hath passed,
You shall receive her troth-plight, think of me.
Obtain—she'll not deny it then—my pardon.
Thenceforth am I your serviceable friend.
Farewell! I wait her Grace's confessor.
Ere I unload my grief 'twere wise to send me
Good tidings. On your conduct I mould mine.

EXETER.
I'll hope the best for you.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
And to the best?

EXETER.
I'll do it.

NORTHUMBERLAND.
Princely Exeter! For this
These halls shall echo yet thy Dudley's shout—
God save King Edward of that name the seventh!

[Exeunt severally, Exeter &c. and the prisoners, preceded by the headsman, carrying his axe's edge towards them.