Mary Tudor An Historical Drama |
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Scene III.
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 | Mary Tudor |  |
67
Scene III.
The Great Hall of the Tower.Enter Jane with Guilford.
JANE.
Midnoon—yet silent as midnight! my heart
Flutters and stops—flutters and stops again—
As in the pauses of a thunder storm;
Or a bird cowering during an eclipse.
Alone, through these deserted halls we wander,
Bereft of friends and hope. Speak to me, Guilford.
GUILFORD.
Thy heart-strings, Jane, strengthened by discipline,
Endure the strain.
JANE.
Say rather, my Religion
Hath taught this good. Nor lacks our female nature
Courage to meet inevitable woe
With a beloved one shared.
GUILFORD.
I cannot bear this!
Is no one near? My throbbing brain will burst!
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Who thronged this hall but yesternight? Heaven's curse
Palsy their servile souls—smirkers and cringers!
Where are they now? Gone like foul fogs to choke
The morn they hail.
JANE.
Such is men's deem of us.
We have obscured a dawn! If spared, God grant
We may make bright the Queen's triumphant way
Like clouds that glorify the wake of noon.
GUILFORD.
Away this specious wisdom! it but goads me!
Kiss me, sweet Jane! Soothe me with loving words—
Breathing warm fancies, nectared as thy breath!
One passionate embrace may stifle thought.
But this cool meekness stings me.
[Embracing her.
JANE
[withdrawing hastily].
Ah, for pity!
Is this a time? We should concentrate thought,
Not dissipate—make strong our hearts, not weaken.
GUILFORD.
What would you have?
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Be all a man should be—
A Christian man, a loyal gentleman!
GUILFORD.
And you?
JANE.
I am content to die with you.
GUILFORD.
Jane! I'm not worthy of you.
JANE.
Nay, dear Love,
Say not so—think not so. I am too bold—
Indeed I was too bold: and 'twas not wife-like
So to repulse you—See, my father comes.
What news, my father?
Enter Duke and Duchess of Suffolk.
SUFFOLK.
Dudley too falls from us.
He was the first of all that craven crew
In Epping Chase to cry “God save Queen Mary!”
Foul Traitor!
JANE.
O my Husband! I forgive him.
And thou—resent not that my Father chafes.
SUFFOLK.
Daughter, the time is come when you must doff
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The ceremonials, now the exequies,
Of your departed greatness.
JANE.
Sir, far better
Brook I this order, than my forced advancement.
Too dutiful a daughter, I forgot
A subject's duty, when, at your behest,
Reluctantly, yea sinfully, I wore them.
Take back the crown. Even yet a prompt submission
May quit my great offence. Go then, my Father,
Seek out the Council. In our names renounce
This treason. Plead, while the Queen's gracious heart
Melts in this summer solstice of success.
DUCHESS.
Simple as wise, thy counsels now shall guide us.
Haste we! the growing tumult in the street
Heralds the Queen.
SUFFOLK.
Beloved Jane! pray for us.
For thou alone art fit to call on God!
[Exeunt Duke and Duchess.
71
FAKENHAM.
Daughter, your hand!—Excuse a poor monk, Sir,
Who not unused to royalty, makes bold
To pity one who must lay down a crown:
To reverence one whose virtues would have graced it:
To comfort one who, having worn it wrongly,
Bows her meek spirit to the chastisement.
I take your hand: and—what I would not do
In your prosperity—with bended knee,
Kiss humbly; paying to your spiritual brightness
That homage which your grandeur could not win.
JANE.
Fakenham! true minister of Christ art thou!
Fearless of danger in discharge of duty;
And to the mourner prodigally kind.
FAKENHAM.
Perhaps I can be serviceably kind.
I am your witness that your will was thrall
To ever-blinding love; mistaken duty.
You both are very young—you and your husband:
And he so wrought on that his dazzled eyes
Saw haloes and mock suns where'er they turned.
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Who for myself would dare, for others invoke,
The worst of temporal suffering if thereby
Fruition might be won of joys immortal,
I warn you, by no quibble seek to ward
Right judgement. Plead your kindred: sue for mercy—
God give you light and grace!
JANE.
My conduct, Sir,
Shall be to your advice conformable.
FAKENHAM.
The council freed me; rendering all the captives
Unto my charge. Ah, precious were those souls
That pined so long for the pure air of heaven!
These have I called to meet the Queen: and thus
Make Liberty the first fruits of her reign.
Enter Exeter, Gardiner, Bonner, Tonstall, &c.
O worthy gentlemen! I greet you well!
GARDINER.
Thee first, O Lord! we bless for this great mercy!
Through intercession of good saints vouchsafed!
To thee too, blessed Virgin! we give thanks,
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And holy Church thus justified in us!
Good Fakenham—chosen instrument—receive
The Church's benediction!
FAKENHAM.
I am thankful.
Thine this peace-offering, Lady! May the Queen
Accept the precious gift with spirit appeased!
JANE.
O Guilford, hope!
GUILFORD.
It may not be: this man
Deceives himself, or us; the very captives,
Whom we had spared, pass us with looks averted.
Jane, we must brave the worst!
JANE.
Endure it, Guilford!
A salute of trumpets: acclamations: the castle gate is opened. Enter Queen Mary in warlike habiliments, with Elizabeth: preceded by a large golden cross. Also Arundel, Winchester, Pembroke, Suffolk, with his Duchess. Other Lords, Heralds, and Soldiers.
MARY.
Here plant the Cross—staff of our pilgrimage!
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That cheered my fainting heart, and made me fearless.
[She kneels before the Cross.
Type of our Faith! awful expositor
Of mysteries unspeakable! thou leading,
Have I not followed with untiring hope,
Taintless fidelity? Have I not dared
Dangers from open foes, from friends estranged,
Hateful suspect even on my household floor,
Perils of death, perils of mine own heart—
And in my brain—threatening my very soul?
Yet do I not for this, O Virgin Mother!
Arrogate glory. Honour to thee! who hither—
Even to my Father's hall, hast led me victor;
Calm, though much moved; exulting yet not proud:
By triumph undebased. [Rising].
Fakenham—good father!
Servant of the Most High, in his name, hail!
These are thy liberated captives? Well
Hast thou performed thy dangerous offices.
Bid them come near. O venerable Prelates!
Scarce less than Martyrs, ye I first salute.
Gardiner! uplift the cross once more in Winton.
Tonstall! take back thy staff to Durham. Bonner!
Be mitred chief of this proud city again.
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First of our English Barons. You, fair cousin
Of Exeter, come hither—Ha! long years
Of durance have not dimmed thy soft brown eyes,
Nor streaked with silver thread thy chestnut curls.
I marvel at thy freshness, gracious youth,
Young as thou art; for prisoned years count double.
Lead me, dear cousin, to my throne: now kneel.
Rise up, Sir Edward Courtenaye, Knight of St. George!
Fakenham, what wouldst thou say?
FAKENHAM.
Receive, my Liege,
These captives from a hand, that, seeming guilty,
Is yet most pure. From this unhappy Lady
Accept this priceless boon.
JANE.
Pardon, sweet Cousin!
Pardon, wronged Queen! Let my compunction wake
Pity, yet slumbering in your woman's heart.
You turn away!—then God be my support!
FAKENHAM.
Beware!
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Ah Sir! too gently have you judged me.
Usurper of the consecrated crown,
The sacred sceptre, how can I be pure?
Welcome Adversity, lifter up of veils!
Before me, naked as a soul for judgement,
Stands up my sin. 'Tis well! the worst is o'er!
Suffer I must; but I will sin no longer!
Can you forget?—dare you forgive? If not
I bow, a penitent resigned.
FAKENHAM.
Great Queen!
At this most hallowed moment shed not blood!
Do I presume?
MARY.
Sir, you presume. Your station
Is our confessional. There, as a daughter,
I stand submiss—your Sovereign here. These nobles,
These prelates are my lawful council. These
I can rely on, and my proper self.
Who dreamed I was athirst for blood? God's death!
An if I were—or if the general weal—
Or if the people's cry—or if the Church,
Uttering the voice of Heaven, demanded,—who
Should stay my hand?
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Alas! I say no more.
MARY.
You have said too much. Competitors for thrones
For ever lose the rights of privacy.
If tools of faction, what avail their virtues?
They represent opinion; are its leaders—
And must confront the peril they provoke;
The penalty that gnaws the heart of treason;
Promethean pangs which the roused Majesty
Of Heaven inflicts on those who grasp its fires!
FAKENHAM
[aside.]
The demon wakes within her heart: yet hope.
I wait a milder moment.
MARY.
Duke of Suffolk!
Your case—and yours, madam, my cousin, differ
From your bad daughter's. We commit to you
Her custody—beware you break not trust—
But separate from her husband.
JANE
[kneeling].
Part us not!
MARY.
Separate from her husband; and confined
Within these walls. What grace soe'er we yield
78
They answer their offence. No more. Depart.
[Exeunt Duke and Duchess of Suffolk, Lady Jane, and Lord Guilford Dudley.
Your hand, my Sister. Exeter, take this
Your Sovereign's hand; and this her fairer sister's.
Lead forward: be henceforth our chamberlain.
[Exeunt.
| Mary Tudor | |