University of Virginia Library

INTRODUCTORY SCENE.

Entrance to the Chapel in the Tower of London: the interior screened off by a black curtain.
Enter Fakenham.
FAKENHAM.
When will these vigils end; these penances
Severer than the Church prescribes? Pray God
Her mind give way not: sorely it is shaken.
These tearful macerations of the spirit,
These fasts that chain all natural appetites,
Nor mortify the sinful flesh alone,
Must be restrained; or death will close the scene.
The very elements partake her throes.
A fearful night! Fitfully lights and shadows
Pass o'er the Earth, as struggling passions deepen
Or blaze across the brow of Madness—now
Yon moon shines nobly through the surging clouds—
Anon, like some poor wreck among the breakers,
Whelmed in the abyss, she shall be seen no more!

Enter Elizabeth with Gardiner.
GARDINER
[to Fakenham].
Still lies she there—
Prostrate upon the grave-stone of Jane Grey?

ELIZABETH.
At your behest Lord Abbot, I am come.
What would the Queen with me?

FAKENHAM.
Whate'er hath passed
Be sure her Grace hath ever truly loved you.
Therefore we trust your coming may dispel
The baleful visions that enthrall her spirit;
Dispersed, as fiends before rebuking Saints.

ELIZABETH.
You hope too much: awakened jealousy
Preys on her, like the Egyptian's asp.

FAKENHAM.
Fear not:
You are the last hope of King Henry's line.

ELIZABETH.
Whate'er my fate, I stand prepared to meet it.

[Gardiner withdraws the curtain: Queen Mary seen prostrate on the ground.
FAKENHAM.
Advance—but with abated breath, soft footfall,
As trembling mother to her sick child's bed—

[They stand watching her. The storm increases. The Queen sits up; gazing wildly round.
QUEEN.
Does the last hour approach?—dread consummation
Of wrath divine and human agony!
Artillery of heaven, thus shalt thou roar,
Commingling with angelic trumpet-blasts,
Precursors of the Judge! who then shall stand
Upright and unabashed? unto that throne
The great, the lowly—victim and oppressor,
Shall troop; that throne girt with avenging Spirits!
And there, link'd heart to heart, the slaughtered Jane,
And Mary, with her bloody memory,
Shall kneel, awaiting doom!—I wake—from dreams—
[Seeing Elizabeth.
Say who art thou, veiled mourner, that com'st hither
To water these cold stones with pious tears?
Give me your hand: my knees are weak.—I part
The tresses on thy brow; and gaze upon thee
With the strong yearning of a blighted love.
I know thee, sister!—Take me to thine arms—
And let me weep.

ELIZABETH.
These mingling tears wash out
All venom from past sorrow—

QUEEN.
Not from mine!—
Immedicable evil hath infected
The fount of life within me. I shall die
In premature decay; and fall aside
As withered fruit falls from a blasted branch.
I, like a mother by her dying babe,
Have closed the eyes of Hope; and o'er my heart
Torpid Despair fans with his vampyre wings.
—Eternal Majesty! Thou seest me here
A Queen hemmed in with dark conspiracies;
A Christian Prince, baited by schismaticks.
I call on thee for prescience to detect,
Strength to control them; unsubdued resolve
To execute thy judgements.—Save thy Church!
Henceforth I cast aside these weeds which sully
The lustre of my state; these vain repinings
That enervate my soul. Unflinchingly
All functions of my crown shall be fulfilled.
Ay, let them rave! I am the Lord's Vicegerent!
Fly, brood of darkness! for my prayer hath risen—
And God will hear, and smite, as once he smote
The sin of Korah: and the earth shall ope
And swallow Blasphemy: and Plagues leap forth
Consuming impious men: even till the Church,
Swinging her holy censer in the midst,
Shall stay the pestilence; God's wrath appeased!
—Answer me not.—I rise from this cold grave,
My penitential couch, with heart as frozen
As the dead limbs beneath, and will unbending
As this hard stone that shuts her from the world.
Jane! take my last farewell! Now lead me forth
To life: I commune with the Dead no more.

[Exeunt.