University of Virginia Library

SCENE THIRD.

Mary, Bothwell.
Ma.
What hast thou done?
Where hast thou dragg'd me? Say, is there yet time
For reparation? Bid thy men disperse ...

Both.
What! hast thou once more changed thy sentiments?

Ma.
I never bade thee ... thou first dared'st ...

Both.
Yes,
I dared propose to thee a gentler means,
For the obtaining of thy end, than any
That thou contrived'st: and thou gav'st to me
The care of these, which I accepted. Now
Henry has seen my squadrons; he has heard
The name of Bothwell: to and fro he runs
Along the galleries, and for desperate fight
Prepares himself. Distinctly I beheld him,
By the glare of lurid torches, come and go,
Furiously chafe, and make parade of valour.
The thunder of his menaces descends
E'en to the plain. 'Twere easy to recall
The troops; but who could afterwards appease
The rage of Henry? Of myself I speak not:
I were a trifling victim (if indeed
I could suffice) in such a cause as this:
But what would be thy fate? Henry incensed ...

Ma.
Ah speak, did Murray not this instant go
From hence to Henry? ...

Both.
I beheld him not—
Say, has that lying demagogue again
Conferr'd with thee?

Ma.
Ah yes, too certainly! ...
Although the minister of a hostile sect,
What has he not reveal'd to me? Oh heaven!
Fatal prognostics from his lips I heard.
Myself dispatch'd him as a messenger
To my unyielding husband: may his words
Avail, as they have penetrated mine,
To penetrate his heart! Who knows? such means
Oft has the invisible heavenly will elected:
Perhaps Murray is his instrument. Go, run;
See that the king speaks with him.

Both.
Murray, foe
Of our religion, at his will aspires
To sway the feeble mind of Henry; hence
He feigns to be his friend. Arch-hypocrite!
His only passion is to head a party.
The most determined of the rebels stand
Already arm'd; they want a man to raise
The standard of revolt; and he will raise it.
What are their schemes, thou knowest;—thou who, once
Fall'n in their hands, heardest them dictate to thee
Their haughty and injurious laws; and I,
Who freed thee from them, too well recollect.—
Now, while I breathe, I swear that thou shalt not
Stoop to these men: to disobey thee now
Is loyalty. All method of approach
To every man is absolutely closed;
And he who would attempt it, forfeits life.
In vain the most devoted of thy friends
Would there present himself; e'en in thy name
In vain would Murray go there ...

Ma.
What! hast thou
Ventured so far? ...

Both.
I dare, and I will save thee:
I'm perfectly aware of what I do.
If thou dost not now openly convict
Henry of guilt, since thou hast offer'd him
An open insult, thou thyself art ruin'd.

Ma.
Let come what may come: I had rather die
Than bring a blot upon my fame ... obey;
Thy overweening zeal may injure me:
Then quickly go, and bid the bands disperse ...
But what do I behold? ... What horrid blaze! ...
Ah! ... what a crash! Trembles the opening earth ...

Both.
Oh! ... from the bursting clouds devouring flames
Descend from heaven!

Ma.
The opening doors fly back ...

Both.
Oh! what a roaring in the smoky air!

Ma.
Ah! whither shall I fly? ...