![]() | The Tragic Mary | ![]() |
Scene IV
—Holyrood; by a window of the palace. The Queen and Lady LethingtonLady Lethington
The space is over-packed with life—heads, heads,
And further heads: while everywhere, like stalks
Lifting proud flowers, the horses raise their men
Gaily above the citizens. These vassals
Of Hepburn have fine seat. The Douglas banner
Is coming forward; there is Morton's hat
A-peek above his eyes. The fussy sunshine
Makes Bothwell's trial seem a great event.
Queen
To clear one's name is signal and of gist
More grave than other actions. Think of it!
Lord Lennox, the accuser, is ashamed
To show his face, and speak his proofless charges,
Yet would delay his victim's just acquittal
From world-estranging slander. This live noon
Is almost welcome as if I myself
Were coming out of cloud.
Lady Lethington
There is a sway
Of faces toward the courtyard.
Queen
Ah, to shine
172
That zealous crowd!
Lady Lethington
Earl Bothwell!
Queen
He is laughing,
And yet he is not—’tis so quickly gone:
His carriage is defiant, though he bends
As if to justice that's invisible.
Who rides alongside? Morton!
Lady Lethington
With the grin
Of some heraldic lion; a golden man,
Complexioned like his hoards.
Queen
And on the left
Who rides behind?
Lady Lethington
It is my husband, madam.
How cross his lips! He had a weary night,
And took no breakfast. He shall throw me favours:
To-day he kissed me inattentively
The first time since our marriage. (She waves)
He is riding
As if asleep. But, see, Lord Bothwell looks.
Queen
His sovereign's hand shall greet him (She waves)
(Apart)
How his joy
Shot up like a first flame when it ignites.
(To Lady Lethington)
The earl is strangely altered—pale, across
His brow a sullen mark.
Lady Lethington
It is the scar
He got in youth when recklessly he stole
173
Will make such hurts flare red.
Queen
Within an hour
A page shall seek the Tolbooth and bring news
How justice prospers.—What triumphant noon!
![]() | The Tragic Mary | ![]() |