University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

—Gates of the Palace.
Abernethy with Guards, and Seer.
ABERNETHY.
Who art thou, impudent and desp'rate man,
That thus besettest with thy frantic form
And most extravagant ill-timed obstruction,
These royal gates, that must to-day receive
And render back their king in spite of thee
And thy contemn'd forbiddance?—Get thee gone
In peace! else from thy haughty attitude
These hands shall pull thee down, and make thy limbs,
Dismember'd and bestrewn all round about,
A bloody pavement, o'er the which thy King
Shall pass to take possession of his throne!—
Speak, if thou hast a tongue.

SEER.
Yea; I will speak.—
O day of monstrous sorrow, dawn thou not—
Be strangled in the orient's golden porch
Ere thou be born!—Be muffled up, O sun!
Ride thou the heaven in a funereal hearse,
Thy proper chariot for a day like this!
Die out, ye stars—be suffocate on high,
Each in thine orb, ere your bright silvery dance
Lead on the gloomy and portentous dawn
That travails with a birth so black as this!
I see it well—the blood-befringed cloud
Comes wheeling red and heavy up the sky,
From the diseased chambers of the south.
My country, spread beneath it, gathers all
Its shower of blood and hurricane of fire,
That not a vestige of her peace remains.
Alas, the murder and the misery!
The sights of deadly and delirious woe!
War's each fierce freak and barb'rous violation!
Making men shudder back into the wish
For inexistence, and regret their birth!
Forbid it, Heaven!—Seal up these palace-doors—
Compact and stiffen every hinge with rust—
Make the bars gripe their wall immovably,
That force of man may not avail to-day
To burst a passage to the kingly seat!—
O seat of shame!—O throne of Scotland! once
The gem of earth's sublimest glory, now
Dimm'd and disglorified by vile disgrace!
Perfidious hands have sullied thee; thou art
A secondary stool, a foot-rest only
For England's haughty feet to trample on—
Turn from it, countrymen—O do not give
This infamy the blessing of your eyes!
Flee to your hills—conceal ye in your valleys—
Get into graves and huddle down to death,
Ere you behold your country bandied round
The world a public by-word, and a hissing!—

ABERNETHY
, (rushing on him.)
Down, down, thou croaking frog of prophecy!
Down to thy whips of punishment, which thou
Deserv'st so daintily thy lash should be
Fretted with hissing hell-fire, to begnaw
Thy back with pangs of such delicious smart,
Devils should envy thee!

SEER.
Alas, the murder and the misery!

ABERNETHY
, (Guards pull him down.)
May thy words choke thee,
Fulfilling thus thine own cursed augury,
Raven of death!—Off, off!—away with him!—
[They drag him off.
Endungeon him in darkness!—Let him there
Sputter his venom 'mongst congenial vipers,
Until his King and country find an hour
For more severe infliction.—Now, my friends,
This dog of an impediment removed,
Proceed ye to the work; throw wide the gates;
O'ergarnish all their posts and doors with roses;
O'erlay with carpets all the entrances;
Festoon each gallery with glorious wreaths;
Expose and blazon every honour out,
That stones and dumbest things may utter joy
Congratulant of John, their coming King!