University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

Scene I.

Gallery over gateway, Whitehall Palace.
Queen's ladies enter in confusion: after them the Queen attended by Gardiner and others.
GARDINER.
Madam, we fear all's lost if you rest here.
We pray you to take refuge in the Tower—
Your boat lies ready manned at Whitehall stairs.

QUEEN.
Fly? never! Arundel and Oxford true,
My foot stands firm!
Enter Caley.
Sir Henry Jerningham
Bids your Grace fear not for Saint James' Tower.
Bull-headed Cobham batters it in vain.
But much we doubt weak Ludgate may be forced.

QUEEN.
What rampant knave is he, who in the front
Of brave old Gage, makes Charing pavement ring
With his black, foaming charger?

CAYLEY.
Captain Knevett.

QUEEN.
Knevett or knave—an if he spurred as hotly
As he can rein, the good old knight were down.
Ho! by the Rood! the knave can spur—and see,
Sir John rolls in the dust—O save him, knights!

GARDINER.
Will not your Grace retire? this oriel window
Is perilously sloped to rebel shafts.
What if thus stricken—

QUEEN.
Haply I should die;
And thus these woes surcease.

GARDINER.
And were that well
For England?

QUEEN.
In good sooth, I think not so.
I will be wise and wary. Lo! brave Southwell
Draws up his battle-axes in the front;
And shall protect us.
[She leans from the window.
Gentlemen, in you
We place our trust: abandon not your post.

GARDINER.
The troops give way—

QUEEN.
Then I will lead them on!
Bring helm and cuirass—though this hand can wield
No sword, at least it can direct a horse;
And teach you how to ride a rebel down.

[Exit attended.
MARY DOUGLAS.
Bears not our Queen a valiant heart? Behold her
Forth issuing from the gate, beckoning her men.
Nor shot of arquebuss, nor push of pike,
Heeds she. Hark!—what a shout! Her work is done!

Re-enter the Queen attended.
QUEEN.
We have struck well: the Lord of Hosts be praised!
And rash rebellion grovels in the dust.
Vengeance has done her part. Be it our care
That no just ground of discontent remain.
Summon the council: much is to be done.

GARDINER.
An edict setting forth your Grace's title
Should be prepared.

QUEEN.
Be careful, clearing that,
To cast no stigma on my sister's birth.
Too much for England's peace may be inferred.
Enough for me that union whence I sprung,
Which Thomas Cranmer most ungodlily
And against law, by wresting texts and reason,
Dissevered, now is held inviolate.
Stablish my throne, remembering I am mortal.
Take heed to ope no quicksand that shall swallow
Succeeding thrones. Save England with my sister.
There is no evil like domestic war.

[Exeunt.

Scene II.

A Street in London.
Enter Underhill to Sandys, Weston, and Rioters.
UNDERHILL.
Why come you thus abroad? the times are wild—

SANDYS.
If the Lord be on my side, why should I fear?
Mysterious are his ways! I will endure
His chastisements—and blessed be his name!

UNDERHILL.
Pray you, retire. 'Tis an ill zeal that plucks
The beard of fortune.

SANDYS.
Edward Underhill!
I am ashamed to meet a man so changed!
That one who from the well-head undefiled
Hath tasted of eternal verities,
Should so backslide!

UNDERHILL.
I have not time to wrangle.
Firm is my faith, but I to her am loyal
Whom the Lord gives to rule o'er Israel.

SANDYS.
See ye the fruit!—A governor from God?—

UNDERHILL.
The Queen is not well served. You heard yourself,
How, leaning from the Holbein gallery,
Where she so long stood target to your shafts,
She bade her furious knights to spare; and spake
Peace to the suppliant throng.

SANDYS.
Yet your fierce captains
Do ramp along the streets with bloody staves
Hunting the white-faced citizens like rats;
Or at their own doors summarily hang them.
No house but sends forth lamentable wails
Of orphans and poor widows; wounding the ear
As harshly as their gashes do the dead.

UNDERHILL.
Not fifty thus have died—a sorrowful sum
If measured by domestic pangs—yet small
If balanced by the evil of their plots;
Small if contrasted with the precedents
Of former feuds. In Henry's time, they say,
Full seventy thousand their viaticum
Had from the hangman.

SANDYS.
Miserable Land!
See how God's wrath hath stricken! Now at length
Hath he begun to punish; as long since
Prophets have threatened. Lo! each heart, each hand,
Each tongue of Englishman is set against
His neighbour: the broad realm is rent asunder.
England! thou ship tossed on tempestuous waters!
Thy crew in mutiny—rocks on thy lee—
A maniac grasps thy helm! England! that knew'st not
When thou wert blest—now desolation sweeps thee!
Yet, yet, obey thy God—receive his Word.
So shalt thou yet find mercy!

WESTON.
Out upon thee!
Unmannerly Ranter!

SANDYS.
Ha! I will not shrink,
From the good fight. Say on, besotted man!

WESTON.
Were ye God's children, surely God would bless you,
And prosper your endeavours: but behold,
Your doctrine is abjured, and its professors
Most soundly rated by good men: and therefore
Ye cannot be of God.

SANDYS.
O thou Iscariot!

WESTON.
Nay, thou shalt hear me out. This is of God
Which our good Queen and Bishops do profess.
Lo! how God prospers them! How notable
The victory wherewith he hath enlarged her!
Ye Gospellers! how many have come back
From your vain texts—rejecting your vain doctrine!
Once we had plenty in the land: but now
There's nothing like as was. But let that pass.
You thought your Gospel was ensconced for ever
With statutes: welladay! new laws pass now
Contrariwise upholding what ye banned.
This shows your doctrine cannot be God's law.

UNDERHILL.
Be thou rebuked, O Sathanas!—If men
Had godly wit, in their Queen's victory
They might discern that God would hereby win her,
By kindness to his Gospel. Furthermore
Because that they who went against her put
Their trust in carnal weapons, not the Lord;
In this they erred. Some have recanted, say you?
Yea verily:—their seed was cast on stones,
And withered. Such for gain took up the Cross;
And, for gain, lay it down. Your Parliament
Pass laws (I say it stoutly), not by reason,
But clamour. 'Tis the many not the better
Who rule. We'll bleed for this in coming time!

A CITIZEN.
Away—away—is this a time for preaching?
Away! the pitiless Riders are upon us!

[Great uproar without—Exeunt dispersedly.

Scene III.

Council Chamber, Whitehall,
Queen, Egmont, Renaud, Gardiner, other Lords.
QUEEN
[kneeling].
God be my witness that my sole desire
Is England's welfare in this marriage. Never
Should lip of man approach my maiden cheek,
Nor change come o'er my chaste and honest life,
But that a dearer interest than mine own
Compels me. Count of Egmont, take my troth
To Philip and to Spain.

EGMONT.
And here King Philip
And Spain impledge their faith to thee and England.

MARY.
O pray with me, and for me, my good Lords,
That God may make these nuptials fortunate!

EGMONT.
I take your royal hand, and with this ring,
In my master's name, espouse you.

QUEEN.
I accept it;
And will return him faith inviolable.

EGMONT.
May Heaven protect my Queen! perhaps your Grace
Will deign send missives by me?

QUEEN.
Bear my love
And gentlest commendations. 'Twere not meet
That I wrote first. Tell him—yet no: nay, tell him
I count the minutes till he come.

RENAUD.
Permit me
To be so bold as to suggest 'twere prudent
His Grace delayed, till treason be put down.
Too many prisoners your Grace releases.

QUEEN.
It was the custom of my forefathers
To pardon criminals upon Good-Friday.
I have released but eight. Of these, Northampton,
Queen Katherine Parr's own brother, took no part
In the late treasons.

RENAUD.
Pardon me—there may be
Some guiltier—our Prince must be kept back,
Should your Grace yield to mistimed clemency.
This book may show how traitors should be crushed.

QUEEN.
My Lord, I read the Greek in his own tongue,
And need not French expositor to gloss
The venerable text. Our English law
Shall better guide us than Hellenick legends.
We lean on Alfred not Thucydides.

RENAUD.
Forgive my plainness. Can King Philip come
While criminals remain unjustified?
Your sister waits her trial.

GARDINER.
Let me speak.
While she, the Princess, lives, there is no safety
For England, for the Church. If all your servants
Went to work roundly, as I do, your Highness
Were better served—How now, Sir? whom seek you?

Enter Bridges Lieutenant of the Tower.
BRIDGES.
Your Grace will pardon, if, in a case like this,
Your servant feels misgiving. This sealed warrant
Commands me yield the Princess; to be dealt with
As sentence shall direct.

QUEEN.
O thou good servant!
Thy Queen, on her heart's knees, thanks and rewards thee.
Whose is this deed?—By God's death! answer me!
Ay, Gardiner, thou shalt answer for this thing,
If thou hast done it.

GARDINER.
Let me see the paper.
A sorry trick to fright the Princess—trust me,
I had no hand in it.

[He tears the warrant.
QUEEN.
Inhuman hounds!
That worry your poor victim ere you slay it.
But I shall baulk your malice. Silence, Gardiner!
Too much already hath been said: your tongues
Are deadlier than poison. Bridges, through you,
Who pitied poor Jane Grey, I shall henceforth
Secure my sister. You have known and loved her.
You are my servant now. Receive your knighthood.

[She knights him. He retires.
RENAUD.
My liege—for such my lord's betrothed is now—
Pardon that I have chafed you.

QUEEN.
You have waked
A devil within my heart and in my brain!
Your master, on my soul! sanctioned not this.

RENAUD.
The King wills nought which can offend his Queen.
But, Madam, you have hardly judged my words,
Misconstruing their purpose. Not the death,
But the removal of the Princess seek we.
Removal, was it not, my lord? We feared
To hurt your Grace, and spake in ambages.

GARDINER.
I meant to say, while here the Princess lives
This realm and church, are perilled. Is that false?

QUEEN.
I'll have no double-meaning speech, nor tricks
To frighten or mislead. Look to it: or bide
The consequence.

RENAUD.
Then, unambiguously,
I counsel that your Grace remove from England
The Princess by a bridegroom's sweet compulsion.
No lack of suitors. Philibert of Savoy
Proffers his hand to fair Elizabeth.

QUEEN.
We thank the princely suitor: but our sister
Mates not with the deposed of Piedmont.

RENAUD.
Perhaps your Grace would yield your royal sister
To the kind keeping of the Hungarian Queen.
With such a noble matron, watchful, virtuous,
She might rest well and safely.

QUEEN.
Be content, Sir.
My sister hath but one friend in this council;
Myself, companion of her youth. It may be
She hath compassed ill against me: yet will not I,
Who fostered her lone childhood, now destroy her
By death or exile—You are malcontent.
Conform ye to my will; I shall not swerve.

RENAUD.
The Queen's will shall be law!

QUEEN.
See well to that!

[Exeunt.

Scene IV.

The Queen's Closet.
Enter Queen, followed by Elizabeth.
ELIZABETH.
You would not see me when I sent the ring:
The token of your love, that was to guard me
If anger grew between us.

QUEEN.
When this outbreak
First threatened, and malicious tongues impeached
My sister's faith, I sent for you to Ashridge.
I prayed you on your love to come to court,
And pledged you mine. You came not; pleaded sickness.
I waited long: then sent Lord William Howard,
Your mother's uncle, with my own litter for you,
And three physicians.

ELIZABETH.
Was I not most sick?

QUEEN.
Ay! sick at heart—sick with unlawful longings
For an untimely heritage. You sought
When circumstances frowned, and charges grew
Against you, to assail me with your tears,
Win with caresses. Then I answered—No.
We meet not till your conscience and your acts
Shall be as a crystal which the sun shines through.

ELIZABETH.
My conscience is unflawed, unstained. You see
Shadows, not mine, behind it, not within it.
This is not just.

QUEEN.
Elizabeth I love you;
And therefore seek to favour: but I rule you.
Justice demands this of me. It was well
That by the old law, which my act restored,
I have abided: thus you rest secure,
No overt act of treason proved. I tore
The ciphered manuscripts which, they alleged,
Inculpated my Sister. God forefend
That any, far less one so dear, should fall
By evidence so easy to be forged.
You stand acquitted. God, who sees all hearts,
Grant you be clear from sin!

ELIZABETH.
Upon my knees;
And gazing on you through my streaming eyes,
I do protest my truth and loyalty—
I ask no favour, I implore no pardon.

QUEEN.
Well, well! belike as you so stiffly stand
Upon your truth, we have dealt wrongfully.

ELIZABETH.
Your Sister must not say so to your Grace.

QUEEN.
But you will so report.

ELIZABETH.
Believe me, never.
This burthen I have borne and still must bear:
Yet humbly, as your loving Sister, crave
Your kind construction.

QUEEN.
Be it so. God knoweth!
I thus replace your ring; pledge of new love.
Or innocent or guilty, I forgive you.

[Exeunt.

Scene V.

Antichamber, Whitehall Palace.
Enter Gardiner and Fakenham.
FAKENHAM.
You seem disturbed, my Lord; yet all things prosper
Even as you wished. The King is on the sea:
The Queen right joyous in her match: the People
If far from satisfied, appeased.

GARDINER.
The People
Must be broke into questionless obedience;
Or they'll not suit King Philip. Never knew I
A horse well managed save with whip and bit.
Touching religion (thus speaks Latimer)
We must plough fast, plough deep, plough skilfully.
No less say I. The Queen is all our own.
She would press argument on argument.
But Fakenham, wot you of no shorter method
Wherewith to deal with traitors?

FAKENHAM.
We who grant
The spiritual supremacy of Popes,
Of the three parties which divide the realm
Are weakest. We are strong but in the Queen.
That church was Catholick which Henry stablished;
Though Antipapal: and it stood confest
A favourite in the land, though stained with blood,
Plunder and tyranny. The Puritan,
Dexterous in reasoning, clamorous in debate,
And in his protest fierce as blatant beast,
Commands the vulgar throng.

GARDINER.
What matters it
If the Queen now strike home?

FAKENHAM.
My Lord, your cry
Is ever “Strike.”

GARDINER.
And who bade Jehu strike?
Go to! Were Korah, Dathan, and Abiram
Worse men than Cranmer and his crew? I marvel
That one, knowing the Queen so inly, doubt
How she will act, if with discretion guided.
When Philip comes—soon may that be!—my friend,
You have known Philip. Touching his externals,
I cannot praise his portrait: but his mind
Will suit us. What say you?

FAKENHAM.
A moody man,
Whose countenance is ghastly, bearing dismal:
For ever wrangling, rude. His glance is sinister—
Stealthy: his laughter a sardonic sneer.
I would rather face a vulture o'er a corpse,
Than such a man, whose hell is in himself.
He is a tree of death—

GARDINER.
Whose seed shall be
For life. Beware. You have a caustic brush:
The canvass burns beneath it.

FAKENHAM.
There are strange rumours
How that his first wife died mysteriously.

GARDINER.
Mysteriously? mysteriously? God's passion!
Women will die!—What boots it how she died?

FAKENHAM.
Much—to our Queen.

GARDINER.
You ne'er will be a Bishop—
A shrewish tongue! look you, Sir, what's to me,
Or you, or any man, how 'twas she died?
The woman's dead. God give her rest! tis well.
And he is free. Tis very well. Ask not
Why? 'twas God's will: if not, she had not died.
Enough of this—we'll talk if talk you must,
Of something profitable. Cease these jars
Answering no end, but wasting love—the Queen!

Enter Queen.
QUEEN.
The airy spirit of my heart takes wing,
And flies to its repose! no more my brain
Teems with fantastic images that grew
To vices in their sheer exorbitance.
I shall be all I ever hoped—yes, Fakenham,
All, with God's help, your lessons would have made me.

FAKENHAM.
May you be wise unto salvation, daughter!
Beyond this, even for my queen, I pray not.

Enter Oxford.
OXFORD.
The King, my liege, will land this eve at Hampton.

QUEEN.
O joyful news! Haste thee—yet stay—Take this
The collar of St. George: I would have sent
The crown, if England willed it. Say that I,
Grandchild of Isabella of Castille,
Who knew so well to govern, yet obey,
Will yield implicit honour to my spouse.
Attend his Highness hither; and as beseemeth
A faithful counsellor, advise whate'er
Shall to his glory redound. Away, away!

[Exeunt Oxford and the Queen.
GARDINER.
Is this your statue of eternal rock,
Or adamant unshaken?—Said I not
The mood would change?

FAKENHAM.
The change was sudden.—Slowly
Her first despair to penitence gave way,
And thoughts of public duty. Duty done
Ministered peace: and health and hope succeeded.
A gradual process this. Now, like a plant
Of tropic growth, her heart sends up, renewed,
Its loving aspiration after love;
Which wife-like duty, and religious vows
Auspiciously (so seems it) shield and sanction.
God help thee, heart betrayed!

GARDINER.
God grant King Philip
Health, and a hand unsparing. So—farewell.

[Exeunt.