Mary Tudor An Historical Drama |
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 | Mary Tudor |  |
Scene II.
The Open Country in Suffolk.Enter Wyatt, Brett, and followers.
BRETT.
I tell thee, Wyatt, these my saucy knaves
Of London City brook no tedious parleys.
It addles clearer heads than ours to scan
Your knotty quodlibets, with such a coil
Of clerkly terms, and law-court jargonry,
Citings of title, precedents and cases—
Here Jane—there Mary—well we've ta'en our part,
And here we stand right manfully for Mary.
You bid us wait. 'Sdeath, sir, have we not waited
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Scant welcome for substantial citizens!
I pray you judge this matter reasonably—
WYATT.
The Queen, last night, care-worn and sad, perforce
Declined our audience: in an hour she grants it.
BRETT.
The hours here lost were precious—
WYATT.
Well, they were so—
But here comes Jerningham. What news?
Enter Jerningham before Mary, Elizabeth, &c.
JERNINGHAM.
The Queen!
MARY.
We greet you well, our faithful Londoners!
You, Master Brett—and you, Sir Thomas Wyatt.
Why ask ye audience? time it were for action.
WYATT.
We come prepared for deeds; but first, frank speech.
I am too bold I fear me.
MARY.
So fear I.
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These men had godly training from their cradles;
And, Madam, before all things they love God.
That they stand here attests their loyalty.
Your Grace's claim is rightful: Lady Jane's
We, on deliberation, disallow.
MARY.
We are beholden to you: but our right
Divine, needs not arbitrement of men.
Say on.
WYATT.
I speak, my liege, as I am charged:
The mouth-piece of these noble hearts, impledged
To back you, but with conscience satisfied.
We grieve to see the royal banner bear
The holy cross with Peter's keys impaled—
An emblem which we dare not march beneath.
I am bound to tell you, madam, we raise not
Our weapons in a cause not wholly righteous:
Wherefore we crave your royal gauge that all things
Which touch the Church, rest as King Edward left them.
MARY.
Gentlemen!—yea, to English Gentlemen
Your Queen, in her extremity of wrong,
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Pleading your conscience, Sirs, think too of mine.
You grasp at license: take it: but deny not
The liberty ye crave. Little know ye
By what vexations royalty is compassed;
Or what my special trials. You, as yet
Little enforced, are firm. I too am firm:
And firm have stood in dire extremity;
Perilling all for conscience' sake. For this
Will Englishmen desert me? Something moves you—
Why murmur ye aside?
BRETT.
My Lady Queen?
These men of mine, excuse their city habits—
Make much of bargain and securities.
They pray your highness for explicit pledges.
MARY.
Out on ye, men of pelf! shall loyalty
Be measured out at price? with legal phrase
Indentured, and set forth like some vile bond!
You speak as though your Queen stood not on right,
In panoply of arms and regal state;
But, cap in hand, pleaded through her attorney.—
I'll not be interrupted—silence sir!
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My Lord of Arundel, advance our banner!
Follow for your hereditary faith—
To London—forward!
ARUNDEL.
Wyatt, be our guide:
And Captain Brett shall guard the rear.
BRETT.
Lord Marshal,
The city bands listen no voice but mine.
MARY.
God's death! you dare to parley, Master Brett?
Obey our Marshal—or—
BRETT
[sheathing his sword].
I march no farther!
WYATT.
Nor I—yet on my knees, I pray you, Madam;
Relent—you will not? Even yet my prayers
Shall be for your success, though in this quarrel
I may not strike.
MARY.
False to thy God art thou,
Deserting thus in presence of the foe!
Yon bartering churls obey their natural instinct.
But thou—of noble blood—Sir! yon's the road
To our revolted Cousin. She, perchance
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Go Sir! a coronet, or axe, awaits you.
Begone! you bar our way.
WYATT.
Alas! my liege,
How much you misconceive us time will show.
Come, Master Brett—yet hear me, Arundel:
We march, 'tis true, apart from your main battle,
But yet so near your flank none shall assail it.
[Turning to Elizabeth.
I speak in honour; trust me. Gracious Lady
Plead thou.
ELIZABETH.
Arise, I pray: what power have I?
WYATT.
Tell her how many thousand English babes,
Now dancing on their father's knees, shall weep
In orphanage for this—how many wives
Shall tear their widowed locks o'er bloody graves,
If this our Queen let loose upon her land
The dogs of persecution, late chained down,
Insatiate brood of Rome!
MARY.
Now, by the Rood!
This is too much. Arrest him!
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Pardon, Sister:
He knows not what he says.
MARY.
Traitor, begone!
For once I spare. Advance, I say, our banner!
Up Tudor Dragon in rebellion's face!
Up, crowned Portcullis, guardian of the right!
Strike for King Harry's memory, loyal soldiers!
Strike for King Harry's daughter, grateful servants!
Strike for the violated law, bold yeomen!
And ye, the church's faithful champions, strike
For the true Cross and the authentic Faith!
[Exeunt Mary and Elizabeth.
BRETT.
Now, by all saints and martyrs calendared!
I could half worship such a tameless woman;
All shrewish though she be. With what a spirit
Like thunder-riven cloud her wrath poured forth,
And keen words flared! Ugly and old?—to that
I shall say nay hereafter. Autumn moons
Portend good harvests. Yet, that glance at parting
Flashed, fierce as sunset through a blasted tree!
But hey! look yonder, Wyatt: half your men
Are scampering after her.
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I marked, and blame not.
I mar no fortune, and coerce no conscience.
There is a fascination—all have felt it—
When Royalty and Woman join in one;
Austere allegiance softening into love;
And new-born fealty clinging to the heart
Like a young babe that from its mother's bosom
Looks up and smiles.
BRETT.
Trust me, I am much minded
To join her even yet.
WYATT.
It cannot be.
I feel as you do: but I look beyond
The tempting present. She goes forth to conquer:
So strong a heart must conquer—then, what then?
Ah! know you not the indomitable spirit
Which scorns all danger, spurns all compromise,
Is born for stern resolve, deeds pitiless?
All must be feared from spiritual despotism—
The axe, the stake, tortures, apostasy!
BRETT.
Wyatt, I hate you when you play the augur.
WYATT.
The weight is on my heart of coming doom!
[Exeunt.
| Mary Tudor | |