 | Mary Tudor |  |
Scene III.
The Council Chamber, Tower.Enter Fakenham in much agitation, followed immediately by Gardiner.
FAKENHAM.
'Tis past! Thank God! the habitude to face
All ordinary pangs steeled me not here.
Terrible Conscience with unswerving eye
Glared on him: and the bright edge of the axe
Was as a fascination. Never before
Had I beheld a soldier famed for prowess—
A statesman ever feared for daring counsel—
So abject in reverse. He could not speak:
Scarce seemed to hear; and when upon the block
He laid his neck, his arms fell stiff and frozen:
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Insensible as when, a moment after,
The severed head was held aloft blood-streaming.
Pray God to spare me such another sight!
GARDINER.
I marvel not, friend Fakenham, thou wert shaken.
But awful times are coming; when our eyes
Shall be familiarized with woe. Time comes
When the Church shall awake, and strike; inflicting
Pangs that shall purify the sinful flesh,
And save from everlasting flames the soul.
Look you—the very sorrows of the Queen
Make her the fitting instrument. Mourn not
Because the cleansing tempest in its path
Meets and strikes down some tree of goodly fruitage.
FAKENHAM.
Alas! for poor Jane Grey!
GARDINER.
I grieve for her.
But in her sure fate see preventive mercy:
The infected air hath need of hurricanes.
Jane living, last hope of these hereticks—
Sure pillar of their cause—graced as she is
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And mental ripeness plentiful as harvest,
Throws into shade our sad, though saint-like Queen.
Both cannot live. One sun lights many spheres:
But two suns for one sphere, nature prohibits.
FAKENHAM.
My Lord, I see too well it must be so.
Jane Grey must die!
GARDINER.
And quickly. Linked events
Envelope, drag her down. Sibylline lips
Have opened; and a warning hath gone forth!
Her creed—or ours—must perish! Have we wisdom,
And speed we not the march of prophecy?
But hush! she comes—sad Mary Tudor comes—
Cold, but composed, marmoreally rigid!
I have thought in vain, unprofitably read,
If such a mien as that portend not fate.
Enter Queen Mary attended.
MARY.
My Lord, we waited.
GARDINER.
Zeal for your Grace's service
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MARY
[to Fakenham].
You saw the traitor's end.
Died he a Catholick?
FAKENHAM.
His last professions
Bespoke true Faith. God, only, knows the heart.
I hope he died in Faith.
MARY.
Such is my prayer.
The strong hand then of treason is cut off.
You hear, my Lords, that Wyatt, yesternight,
Hath countermarched, and crossed the Thames at Hampton?
He, and that lozel Brett, confederate, fill
Our streets with outrage. Scouts from these have held
Close conferences with Lord Guilford Dudley;
Whom, lying under sentence, we had spared.
Shall we still spare?
GARDINER.
So were your Grace imperilled:
With you the Church; with both the Common-weal.
MARY.
Then let his sentence be fulfilled to-morrow.
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His wife?
MARY.
I will consider.
GARDINER.
She is proclaimed
From street to street: the very walls are ciphered
With traitorous scrolls, that hail her “Jane the Queen.”
Shall such wrong go unchecked?
MARY.
That is their folly;
Not hers. The culpable shall smart for this.
Enter Bedingfield hastily.
Pardon my liege! it is no fault of mine—
As shall be proved—the duke of Suffolk's fled;
And joined with Wyatt.
MARY.
Suffolk fled? Jane's father?
Henceforth let justice rule. Farewell, weak Pity!
We cannot, Jane, both live: why then, die thou!
[She takes a parchment from a cabinet and signs.
'Tis done! the royal rebel must abide
Her doom to-morrow. First, let the husband die.
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Hear me!
MARY.
Beware, Sir!
FAKENHAM.
I but supplicate
Permission to approach this hapless lady.
A holier spirit may perchance awake;
Worthy the sweet prerogative of mercy.
MARY.
If Jane abjures her heresy, I spare her.
So will she be no longer to the Church
A foul reproach, a canker in the State.
No more. Break up the council. Gardiner!
Be it again so ordered, at the moment
Lord Guilford dies a cannon be discharged.
Then lead to execution Lady Jane.
[Exeunt severally.
| Mary Tudor | |