University of Virginia Library

Scene VI.

Palace, Whitehall.
Queen, Philip, Gardiner, Pole.
QUEEN.
You will not go so soon?

PHILIP.
Why should I stay?
My counsel goes for nought, backed though it be
By your wise Chancellor.

QUEEN.
Alas! I know not
In what I have denied you; save this only—
Recourse to death and torture: when my heart,
My judgement, yea my conscience, dictates rather
The force of free discussion.

GARDINER.
Pardon, Madam.
Reason no eye-salve brings to men whose will
Shuts out the truth—

QUEEN.
But have you fairly tried it?

PHILIP.
What call you fair? If to probe truth and find it
Even in men's vitals; dragging crime to light,
As doth our holy office in Castile,
Be just—and who so bold as to deny it?—
Then is it just to use all cogent means
Which shall extort confession. We rout foxes
With fagot from their holes: why not unkennel
With fire the vermin which infest the state?

CARDINAL.
Forbear, my Lord, by forced analogies
To blind plain reason. Even those Puritans
Are rational; and better may be won
By logick, than affrighted by brute strokes.

PHILIP.
Your Eminence hath powers of persuasion
Unknown to me. I have no time for talk.
(Preserve me from all babblers!)—I love listeners.
My maxim is, compel men to their good:
And if they thank you not—the fault is theirs.
What say you, Chancellor?

GARDINER.
Your Grace speaks wisely;
And shrewdly to the purpose.

QUEEN.
The laws of England
Provide sworn juries; fellows of the accused;
To hear the evidence, and give their verdict,
Leaning to mercy.

GARDINER.
Under correction, Madam,
Of judges versed in law.

PHILIP.
Ay, ay, my Aunt—
Your Mother—sometime Queen of this good land—
This land of equal laws—veracious juries—
Had what you call fair trial! let me see—
Bishop, your predecessor, Doctor Cranmer,
Was the assessor—judge—or advocate—
(Saint Jago! what know I of your law jargon?)
In that fair process: and for his fair demeanour
Therein, our Queen now tenderly entreats him!
It stirs my bile to hear such squeamish cries
As certain dames—no babes God wot—and gallants
Disguised in petticoats like dowagers,
Raise at the sight of blood.

QUEEN.
My lord, my lord!
Degrade me not; yourself, my lord, degrade not!
I am unworthy as a woman—none
Knows better—be not angry that I weep—
But ah! forget not thus I am thy wife—
Thy Queen.

PHILIP.
Ha! Ha!

QUEEN.
King Philip, dare you make
A jest of all things holy? can you wound
The heart that loves you?

PHILIP.
Madam, I am grave.
But I am not to be cajoled—with tears;
And whining posies; and dramatic rant.
This hand (nay, I will hold it while I please)
You gave in pledge of conjugal obedience.
I condescended to advise, when right
Entitled to command. The obstinate
I thought to shame with raillery: but, look you,
I have not sold my youthful liberty
By this ill-sorted spousal—

QUEEN.
Outraged! outraged!
Why sought you then this spousal?—

PHILIP.
Why? great kingdoms
May be compacted thus. My father willed it—
Sage counsellors advised. Were these not reasons?
But hear ye, Queen and wife, if here my will
Be not obeyed, I will not here abide;
But cast you from me—thus.

[Queen sinks down.
CARDINAL.
Now I must speak
Or die!—

GARDINER.
Hush, hush!

CARDINAL.
Thou traitor to the altar!
Bethink thee—marriage is a sacrament
Which to profane is deadly! Look on her
Who gave thee all her wealth, her crown, her people;
And, above all, her virgin heart and person;
And hoped thee her true helpmate through this world,
Nor in the world to come to be divided.
And now you shake her from you as an asp—
Or poisonous froth shot from a rabid lip!

PHILIP.
Were I a basilisk I'd look thee dead!
Out—vermin!

CARDINAL.
No! my lord. The church hath thunders:
Suspended hang they o'er thy head—beware!

GARDINER.
Pray you, retire.

CARDINAL.
Not so. My heart is strong:
And like some stalwart wrestler, who hath need
Of exercise, and doubts nor heart nor limb,
I shrink not from the combat. He who carries
His Cross, a daily burthen, well may stand
In front of any giant of the ring
Who boasts he can move spheres.

PHILIP.
My lord of Winton,
Let the poor player say on. We can afford,
Smiling, to look down on his petty stage—
And meditate—his guerdon.

CARDINAL.
Ay: you are great
Above us by your station, as the vulture
Upon his mountain pinnacle. What then?
The arrow makes a pathway on the air;
The peasant's hands can reach the feathered tyrant,
And from the vale quench his despotick eye.
Sir, you have heard the truth now I have spoken.

PHILIP.
Once and too much.

QUEEN.
Ah me.

[she swoons].
PHILIP.
Go, call her surgeon.
Remove her to her chamber—a good riddance!

CARDINAL.
Hard as the millstone, and as cold! King Philip!
There is a book in heaven wherein the deeds
Of men are graven.

PHILIP.
Sir, you may retire—
Surely you heard me not?—you may retire!
Begone!—it is my pleasure!

CARDINAL.
I depart.
My place is otherwhere. Never henceforth,
Transgressor, shall I meet thee, face to face,
Until thy sin by penitence be absolved!

[Exit.
GARDINER.
A pestilent hot headed fool!

PHILIP.
A sample
Of English talking on Italian thinking.
In Spain we think—and act—not speak. Is he
A heretick? the late Pope had misgivings:—
The man out-braved them. Next, at Rome they sought
To make him Pope: and that he may be yet.
It were not well— [pause]
we must consider this.
Pope? never! Lambeth? Ha! Gardiner—a word.
Think you one may be found—a witness—ha?—

GARDINER.
Trust me.

PHILIP
[whispers].
Like you not this Naboth's vineyard?
Tush man! should Pole be Primate? Are there none
Can testify of this man—so and so?—
Shall Pole, I say, be Primate?

GARDINER.
God forbid it!

PHILIP.
Be sure he'll not forbid, if man allows it.
See well to this. Gardiner, wert thou Archbishop,
This land were cleansed anon. Look to't, I say.

GARDINER.
Who to great Philip's will shall answer nay?

[Exeunt.