 | The Tragic Mary |  |
Scene I
—Holyrood; a room in the palace, on a brilliant August morningEnter Darnley
Darnley
I fall into disuse; behind me lies
A ghost, a din of music; and before
An army of afflictions with no aim
But to descend on me. All fellowship
Drops from my haunt and from the August days,
That are grown old, immomentous, and dull.
Good God, what will become of me!
Enter the Queen
From her
I can command submission: if she gave
As soft compliance in affairs of state
As in my whims and pleasure it were well.—
Sweet madam.
Queen
Henry, to this document
Affix your signature. You truant boy,
I have been asking vainly for the king
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Darnley
And I must sign this paper
Whate'er it breed? Doubtless your Lethington,
Though he seem banished, set it into shape.
Queen
He is forgiven, and now must be restored;
But this is no state-measure—a request
To Selkirk's sheriff and the Earl of Bothwell
To make all ready for a noble hunt
In Meggotsland. Dear, this conspiracy
Is mine; its single purpose to unite
Our severed lives, and give us sylvan days
Of reckless happiness: we two together
In the clear light will chase the stags, and then
Rest, and make love, and rest beneath the trees.
Will you not sign this letter?
Darnley
It is strange
You find no office for me in concerns
Of state necessity. I apprehend
As well as you; in business show despatch:
Yea, like the Spaniards, make one gallant charge,
That would be fatal in its energy
If long continued. To my cost I know
That Moray is a traitor, but you smile
And kiss me; I am certain Lethington
Is full of guile, my serpent enemy;
You lift your brows and kiss me. How I hate
Your kisses! You forget all ancient wrongs,
And each man has your ear—except your husband.
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My prince's father! since our boy is born
I think of you across such innocence,
So sweet a favouring road, when I arrive
My soul is full of grace. I recognise
Your smiles, your dimples, the vexed way you veil
Your eyelids in so dear a delegate
Of your dread sovereignty that all offence
Is washed from recollection.
Darnley
'Tis in private
You fawn on me. James is your minister,
The Earl of Moray has your confidence.
But I will have his life and rid myself
Of your contempt. Faith, I can turn you pale
And red, although you think I am a puppet,
A king of rats and mice.
Queen
You do not threaten
The Earl of Moray?
Darnley
For I will not live
To see you wrecked by traitors. David knew
The way to cozen you.
Queen
Unspeak that word—
You shall not charge the dead.
Darnley
I will begone.
Queen
Return on your obedience to my feet.
Now Henry Stuart, give yourself the lie,
Confess your slander.
Darnley
You mistake my meaning;
For David Riccio was a better man
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Will drive me mad.
Enter Moray
Queen
Now press your accusation.
Darnley
(With confusion)
My lord, I have been moved to say and threaten,
Through common rumour, things that otherwise
I had not thought of.
Moray
(To the Queen)
Mary, if my life
Be taken from you, you will be deprived
Of your one prop.
Queen
It is too true, and therefore
I warn you of the malice in men's hearts.
Had any given me warning there was plot
'Gainst David's life, he had not fallen a victim—
You shall not. Leave us, Henry, if your shame
Crave not an ampler pardon.
Darnley
I will keep
Away from you; it is not a light matter
To chide, and give dismissal to a king.
Exit Darnley
Queen
My brother
Moray
(Caressing her)
'Tis not fit that you should weep.
The kingdom prospers. Recollect, my sister,
I have the Stuart courage. . . . . Mr. Craig
Presents a fresh petition from the kirk,
If you can listen to it.
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But your life—
I cannot think of business, when my heart
Is full of anxious care.
Moray
I cannot think
Of any private danger, when religion
May be advantaged by my constancy.
You wax in all men's favour through your kindness
To the true faith. Ah, were you in its pale!
I have two jarring cares—a Romish sister,
And God's elect. Come to the ante-room.
Exeunt together
| The Tragic Mary | |