Mary Tudor | ||
Scene II.
The Hall of Lambeth.Procession of Prelates, followed by Nobles, &c.
PEMBROKE.
Well, Oxford, what says Cranmer? Will he bide
The penalty?
OXFORD.
Marking his vacillation,
I should say no: but ay, if well provoked.
261
Here come they—Latymer, the lion, first.
Nor he, nor Ridley, quail: these look like martyrs.
The Queen!
[The Queen passes, attended.
OXFORD.
Good God! how changed! Speak, Underhill—
You serve beside her Grace. Is not this sudden?
UNDERHILL.
My lord, she is dying.
OXFORD.
Why her surgeons say
She soon will have an heir.
UNDERHILL.
It is delusion.
PEMBROKE.
You, I believe, have served her since her childhood?
UNDERHILL.
I knew her when a girl: and not Jane Grey,
Whom she resembled, in her prime was fairer.
Then grief and passion had not stamped their hoofs
On her high brow: and her acquirements answered
The intellectual promise. Small of stature,
Her form was symmetry; her face well shaped,
262
Her penetrating eye was to be feared,
Large, dark, intent. Her voice was musical;
Albeit at times too piercing; her rich hair
A golden brown, like sunshine on a chestnut:
Her full, red lip ripe ever to pettishness.
OXFORD.
This is not Mary now: alas! for pity!
The age she hath attained abates not beauty:
But grief drives like a ploughshare thro' its garden.
UNDERHILL.
I sketched the features of her prime! 'Tis thus
A woman should be shown to after time.
OXFORD.
A word with thee, good servant. Go to Hatfield:
And bid the princess, by the truth forearmed,
Be ready for the time—wary of Philip—
Above all, bold.
PEMBROKE.
Now, wait upon the Queen.
UNDERHILL.
We are in charge, my lords, that none shall pass
Save the Lord Chancellor and Cardinal.
PEMBROKE.
Peyto or Pole?
263
This Peyto skulks in lanes,
Like a proved knave. The Queen denies to see him.
PEMBROKE.
The less of Rome, the better hope for England.
[Exeunt severally.
Mary Tudor | ||