University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—A Room of State in Hamilton Palace.
Mary, Adelaide, and Douglas.
Mary.
They're gone.—
[Looking towards the Entrance of the Stage.
O regal state, a cumb'rous garb thou art!
Arran I love; I love his lady too;
And yet I'm glad they're gone. I feel now light
With you, my friends, my chosen, well-tried friends.

Adel.
Poor gratitude—It is a term too faint—
Your Highness ought to love Lord Hamilton.

Doug.
Without Lord Hamilton your Grace might still
Have been a prisoner—You ought to love him;
And you, my Lady Adelaide, you too.

Adel.
And so I do; I love him as a brother.

Doug.
And something more.

Adel.
He was but second in the enterprize.

[To Douglas.
Mary.
By break of day, you said,
The council have resolved we march.—
The Regent dare not meet us, or, if he dare,—
He'll meet his ruin.—To-morrow night we reach
The two-peaked rock.—Good evening, Douglas:
You'll arm betimes.

Doug.
God save your Grace!—God bless you, lady!

[Exit Douglas.
Mary.
See if my chamber's lighted.
[Exit Adel.
No, Adelaide, thou must not learn—
There are some things which, even in the ear
Of sacred friendship, never may be breathed:
O that it were to do!—consent!—O, no!
Denial then should not be simple nay;
My prayers, my threats, my power should interpose:
I'd rush in at the death-impending moment;
Even while the murderer, with averted face,
Breathless, stretched out his trembling hand,
I'd from it dash the hell-lighted match.
Darnley, still wilt thou look upon me so!
Yes, look, aye, frown reproach, while conscience smiles,
I'm innocent. I feel I am not guilty.
Abused, dishonoured, outraged, yea, despised!
A queen despised! dishonoured! by the man
Whom she had lifted to her throne!—
Wretch! he deserved
His fate. In slaughtering Rizzio in my presence,
His deep-laid purpose was a double murder:—
And then to step into the vacant throne;
His dripping dagger glittered in my eye—
Wretch! he deserved to die! The law was palsied—
The hand of justice struck—and was I bound
To thrust my arm between him and the stroke?
To act, to speak, to warrant by a hint,—
That had been wrong: But I—what was't I did?
I only did not take into my bosom
The viper that had stung me to the heart.
Yes, look, aye, haunt me with that look,
Thou vision, dream, thou phantasm of my brain!
Sure it can be nought else; 'tis nothing real;
[Looking round.
And if it were, proud spirit, I would dare thee:
At deepest midnight, in the charnel aisle,
I would not dread to meet thee: Thy crimes, my wrongs,
Would nerve this feeble frame, would to my tongue
Lend utterance, till such a tale I told,
Would make thee glad again to pall
Thy face confused, and shrink into the tomb.
Do I dream?—O, I'm weak—I'm miserable!

Re-enter Adelaide.
Adel.
Why do you look so joyless 'mid the hope
Which with still brightening ray spreads all around?

Mary.
With brightening ray! With me hope shines but faintly.

Adel.
What were you brooding on when I returned?

Mary.
Nothing—something—no, nothing.

Adel.
Am I your friend? am I your Adelaide?
Now tell me, Mary, (for by that dear name
I ne'er addressed you that I asked in vain,)
Come tell me, Mary, what you thought upon?

Mary.
Nothing—nothing indeed.

Adel.
You know not how I love to share your sorrow.

Mary.
'Twas nothing—'twas a prayer.

Adel.
Were not we fellow-captives in Lochleven?

Mary.
Dear Adelaide, I thought of thee:
I feared lest Douglas loved thee.

Adel.
Fear not for that; I'm sure he loves not me.
What makes your Grace imagine he loves me?
'Tis certain you're deceived. Me loved of Douglas!
No, no, he loves not me. I fain would know
What ground you have for such a strange suspicion.

Mary.
He is your constant shadow;
He's seen but in the sunshine of your smile;
And when a frowning cloud lowers o'er your eyes,
He's gone. You are too harsh.

Adel.
It is your Grace he loves. How few there be
That see your Highness, and escape unwounded!

Mary.
Nay, Adelaide,—love lives not without hope.

Adel.
Therefore 'tis sure that Douglas loves not me.

Mary.
Despair sometimes puts on the smile of hope.

Enter Hamilton.
Ham.
Your Highness' council is again assembled
Upon another message that arrived,
Some half hour since, from Murray's quarters;
They want your approbation to their answer.
Shall they attend your Highness here?

Mary.
I'll go to them. O, if it be of peace,
My joy-marred tongue will faulter in reply,
But my glad heart will echo back the word,
Peace!—word to mothers dear.

[Exeunt.