 | Mary, Queen of Scots |  |
Scene I.
CECIL, DAVISON.CECIL.
No more, my friend; it looks like flattery,
Which I abhor: in raising thee I have done
But what I ought; thou hast deserved it all:
The queen has judgment to discern thy merit,
And power thou know'st most amply to
Reward it.
DAVISON.
Yet I have heard, you'll pardon me, my lord,
She is not over lavish of her bounties, but
Deals her favours with a scanty hand.
4
O blame her not for that, good Davison;
A thrifty sov'reign makes a wealthy people:
She will not scatter all the nation's strength
In idle splendour, but with prudence keep
The public treasure for the public need.
DAVISON.
Frugality indeed is now become
A necessary virtue, which we all
Should learn to practise.
CECIL.
Yet I blush to think
How many idle great ones, in this hour
Of common peril, wanton in the arms
Of heart enfeebling luxury, and waste,
In the gay round of fashionable follies,
The wealth that should support their falling country.
Elizabeth is prudent, wise, and good;
In penetration, deep sagacity,
And persevering fortitude, she soars
Above her sex.
DAVISON.
And yet there are who say,
She is no stranger to her sex's weakness,
And condescends sometimes to be a woman.
CECIL.
There is a female frailty in her nature,
5
She has affections of a nobler kind,
To damp its fire; her prudence and her pride
Have saved her oft; and when deluding love,
With wily softness, steals into her heart,
She calls the ruling passion to her aid,
And bids ambition check the bold intruder.
DAVISON.
Her conduct there, my lord, is much indebted,
Or I mistake, to Cecil's kind advice;
His honest zeal with caution watches o'er
Her every action.
CECIL.
'Tis the statesman's duty
To mark his sov'reign's passions as they bend
Their rapid course, and guide the wand'ring stream
Of his affection towards his country's welfare;
To make his virtues useful, and direct
His faults, and failings to the public good:
Such, Davison, hath been thy friend's ambition,
And be it thine; already thou hast gain'd
The queen's regard: be careful to preserve it.
DAVISON.
That is a lesson I must learn from you,
Who by persuasive gentle arts can soothe
The tranquil mind as with a silken cord,
May lead her on and mould her to his purpose:
But if with open violence you thwart
Her will, then all the blust'ring Harry's rage
6
In truth, my lord, you have an arduous task;
For if report say true, Elizabeth
Is wayward, proud, dissembling, and inconstant.
CECIL.
She has her faults, my friend, and follies too,
But I have veil'd them from the public eye,
And so bewitch'd opinion in her favour,
That, dazzled with the glories of her reign,
Eager to praise, posterity shall lift
Th'admiring eye and wonder at her virtues.
DAVISON.
How much we owe to thy paternal care,
Thou art the great, the actuating spring
That moves the whole machine; on Cecil's wisdom,
And Cecil's counsels, hangs the fate of England.
CECIL.
Oppressive burthen: never envy him
Who holds the reins in this uncertain state;
It is a sea for ever vex'd with storms:
If, by long labours and successful service,
We steer the ship entrusted to our care,
The master seizes on the golden freight,
And we are soon forgot: but if, perchance,
The hapless vessel split on rocks unseen,
When danger threats the crew tumultuous rise,
And dash the guiltless pilot from his helm
To sink unpity'd,—such may be my fate.
7
Forbid it heaven, forbid it gratitude
And great Elizabeth: for sure, my lord,
With all her faults, she holds her people dear.
CECIL.
As life and being: 'tis her noblest pride,
Her pleasure, her delight, to make them happy;
There is a sweet enthusiasm in her love
For England, that with me atones for all
Her venial errors: when she talks of it
'Tis with such warmth, such energy of speech,
As if a lover's rapture fired her soul.
DAVISON.
What must she feel then for its present state,
When Mary's subtle and delusive wiles
Have well nigh shaken this devoted realm
To its foundation?
CECIL.
That pernicious woman
With baleful influence blasts my every purpose:
I tremble at her power, for whilst she lives
Elizabeth can never reign in peace.
DAVISON.
She is most beauteous still, and still, I hear,
Can boast her fond admirers; how succeeds
The gallant Norfolk in his am'rous suit
To that fair captive?
8
Much I fear too well:
Their union would be fatal to the queen,
To England fatal; but if I have art
Or power to prevent, it shall not be.
DAVISON.
The duke is warm, precipitate, and bold,
For ever in extremes, whate'er he hates
He hates with bitterest rancour, what he loves
He loves to madness!
CECIL.
There are those, my friend,
Who weave themselves the net that must ensnare them,
Rush headlong on and seem to court destruction:
Such Norfolk is: I know his foolish passion
Ere long will urge him to some desp'rate purpose,
That must involve them both in certain ruin.
DAVISON.
I've seen him oft of late in conference deep
With those I like not.
CECIL.
There is cause, my friend,
For strong suspicion. I already know
Much more than I could wish; and so I mean
To tell him; to be open and sincere,
Give him my honest counsel as a friend,
Alarm his fears, and warn him of his danger;
9
And league with England's foes, the peril then
Be on his head; Cecil shall stand acquitted.
But see he comes.
I know his errand; Davison, retire,
Summon the council: we have business there
Of highest import; let 'em be prepared,
The queen will meet them—watch Ridolphi close.
DAVISON.
I will, my lord.
CECIL.
Farewell.
[Exit Davison.
| Mary, Queen of Scots | |