University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

Scene I.

A room in Whitehall Palace.
Enter Gardiner and Fakenham.
GARDINER.
Strange are the phases of the female mind,
So quick in phantasy, so slow to reason,
Eager, inconsequential. Such is Mary:
With thought as soaring as the eagle's flight,
Swift as the storm-cloud's shadow; and as fleeting!
It is our office, Fakenham, gives this insight:
And to our profit—yea, the Church's profit—
Yea, the wide Kingdom's profit—moulds it.

FAKENHAM.
Wisely
This privilege, built up on circumstance,
Must be employed, and to good ends confined;
Or some rough hand will smite it down.

GARDINER.
Good Abbot,
Are we not wakeful? Gentler confessor
And wiser than art thou, hath never bowed
His ear to royal whisper. It is time
To test this privilege.

FAKENHAM.
Thy purpose, Bishop?

GARDINER.
The Queen must wed: the State—the Church demands it.
'Tis true no dangerous competitor
Is left to shake the throne—for none looks now
To the worthless Exeter. Who else remains?

FAKENHAM.
Why pass the noblest by?—the Cardinal—
Reginald Pole?

GARDINER.
A Pope may not be King.

FAKENHAM.
Are you quite sure that he is Pope?

GARDINER.
Why doubt it?
The scrutiny made sure of his election.
And who hath e'er renounced that noblest crown
Of earth? Besides he hath a loyal heart,
And would not pluck her crown from Mary's brow.

FAKENHAM.
Might he not share it?

GARDINER.
He!—a churchman marry?
You babble.

FAKENHAM.
No, my lord. Pole hath not taken
The irrevocable vow: he is not Priest;
But Cardinal Deacon: and the Holy See
Hath power to absolve.

GARDINER.
True. Cæsar Borgia
Was secularized: he laid aside the purple;
And was a married man, once and again;
Duke of Romagna and Valentinois.
More than the tonsure ladies loved his ringlets.
A pregnant precedent.

FAKENHAM.
If you knew Pole,
As I have known him, you would not sneer thus.

GARDINER.
I meant no sneer. His Eminence, I doubt not,
Pious and shrewd: if worldly, what of that?
The Clergy are but men: if young (and he,
At fifty, for a Prince of the Church, is young)
And lured to greatness by successful love,
Men must slake thirst even at the fountain head.
You were Pole's friend in youth?

FAKENHAM.
I knew him well:
And love him yet.

GARDINER.
Ay, ay. This Pole has friends—
What manner of man was he in Salisbury house,
When playmate of our gracious Queen, his cousin?

FAKENHAM.
I knew him not till after days; a student
In Padua.

GARDINER.
And then?

FAKENHAM.
A nobler presence
Never embodied a more gracious soul:
Ardent, yet thoughtful; in the search of knowledge
Unwearied, yet most temperate in its use.
Whate'er he learned he wore with such an ease,
It seemed incorporated with his substance;
And beamed forth like the light that emanates
From a Saint's brow.

GARDINER.
Well, well—at Padua
You were his choice companion?

FAKENHAM.
No. I marked him
As a far Alp: and loved to watch the sunrise
Dawn on his ample brow. He lived apart,
As well became his doubly glorious lineage;
Grandson of George of Clarence, and last heir
Of Warwick; him who, greater than a King,
Made and unmade our Kings.

GARDINER.
But had he not
A cloudy mood at times?

FAKENHAM.
And that became
His lineage. Then he thought upon his mother,
His grandsire, and those great ancestral woes.

GARDINER.
Speak, as you saw him.

FAKENHAM.
Oft have I watched him sitting
For hours, on some rude promontory's edge,
Wrapt in his mantle, his broad brow sustained
With outspread palm, o'ershadowing his eyes.
And there, as one of Titan birth he lingered
In strange community with nature; mingling
With all around—the boundless sky, the ocean,
The rock, the forest—looking back defiance
Unto the elements: as some lone column
Beneath the shadow of a thunder-cloud.

GARDINER.
Well: as I said before, the throne stands firm;
But fresher blood is needful to transmit it.
Our Queen (Heaven guard her for us) is not strong.
'Twere well we had from her a healthier scion
To feed the kingdom, through forth-coming time,
With fruit of the same stock. The Queen must wed.

FAKENHAM.
Why not with Pole?

GARDINER.
A grave enthusiast
May write a moving book, but scarce rule men.
Yet hear me. He is but an Englishman;
And 'tis an adage older than the hills
That prophets are not honoured in their land.
Trained for the crosier, not the sword, his arm
Is all unequal to the stress of battle.
We must look round elsewhere.

FAKENHAM.
Nor find another
So royally endowed.

GARDINER.
Abstractedly,
Perhaps so. But observe me, England needs
A Prince whose disciplined and numerous spears
Shall fence the throne from miscreant mobs at home
And win respect abroad; a man whose birth
Bespeaks dominion; to whom intellect
Descends as an hereditary fief;
Preeminently Catholic—

FAKENHAM.
You know,
Or had not praised this Wonder so.

GARDINER.
I know him.
And he is Spanish Philip, son of Charles;
That wisest monarch, most devout of Christians,
Potent of captains, fortunate of men.—
(And we should ever sail in Fortune's wake)—

FAKENHAM.
A bigot boy!

GARDINER.
I am astonished! you,
A Priest, a mitred Abbot, to speak thus!
This is the cant of Puritans: avoid it.
It hath the smack of sin. Philip, I grant you,
Is youthful: but his German tutelage
And grave Castilian manners, make him old.

FAKENHAM.
Too young, I still aver, to wed the Queen—
At least to love her.

GARDINER.
Have you got the stamp
Of the said Cardinal, your great ideal,
Upon your metal, that you descant thus
Of love? What part have churchmen, what have statesmen
In leagues of love? What royal marriages?
I say, Prince Philip is a proper man;
Whose progeny will much advance the realm;
Whose piety, inherited, protect
The Church: and this all Christians leal desire.

FAKENHAM.
Does her Grace know your lordship's purposes?

GARDINER.
She hath heard affably my argument.
I pray you not to name the Cardinal,
(Whom doubtless, his grave dignities considered
And sacred calling, she hath long forgotten
As one who might have wooed, perchance have won her)
I mean, good Abbot, name him not, save only
As a high prelate: we will say—the Pope.
Believe me—

FAKENHAM.
You mistake her. She is changed.
Passion and grief have done the work of time,
And sleep in their own ashes. Her strong soul,
Calm as the nether levels of the sea,
The superficial tumults of this world
Trouble no more with clamour. Peace, hard-won,
The peace of faith, the peace of thought, the peace
Of heavenly hope, and earthly hopelessness,
Reign in her spirit. To her country vowed,
She lives for duty only, and affects,
(Wed she or wed she not,) the nation's weal,
Her own not seeking.

GARDINER.
Tumult comes unsought—
Tut, Sir, the nature changes not. Her coldness
Is but exhaustion. Deep is Passion's sleep
While its slow energies regerminate.
I say her mood will change.—Join we the council.

[Exeunt.

Scene II.

The Council chamber, Whitehall. The Council assembled: the Spanish Ambassador.
Enter the Queen, followed by Gardiner, Winchester, Oxford, Pembroke, Bedford, Derby, &c.
QUEEN.
Ever regardful of our subjects' wishes,
And knowing that you hold our female nature
Too weak, unaided, to contend with treason,
We ask your counsel. Many seek our hand.
I am not prone to marriage. I know well
That mine is not the gift of comeliness;
And too much grief hath made my mind unpliant.
Therefore I fear to wed: but more I fear
Good men's mistrust, seeing a lonely woman
Amid so many factious, and no arm
Strong to repress them. What is your advice?
Speak, Chancellor.

GARDINER.
In this we are unanimous:
Praying your smiles upon the Emperor's suit.
We deem Prince Philip an auspicious match:
In whose alliance England shall have pride;
Your Grace abiding comfort; and the People
Tranquillity through an assured succession.

RENAUD.
Upon our knees we humbly pray your Grace
To grant Prince Philip's suit.

QUEEN.
Great God! direct me.
Gardiner, I would consult you. Is it past doubt
Our cousin—Reginald—the Cardinal—
In very truth is Pope? Deceive me not.

GARDINER.
Unquestionably, Madam. Is he a Christian
To spurn the captaincy of Christendom?
'Tis certain he was chosen. Holy Church
Needs him. Can he stand back?

QUEEN
[aloud].
It must be so?
My lord ambassador, we'll not refuse you.

RENAUD.
God save the Prince and Queen!

PEMBROKE.
Your pardon, Sir—
The Queen and Prince.

GARDINER.
Henceforth those names are mated.
The consort shall partake all royal titles
And powers: while this our Queen shall share with him
Reciprocal advantage; and their issue
Hold, not alone these kingdoms, but augmented
With the broad Netherlands and Burgundy.

RENAUD.
To this the imperial embassy consents,
Long live the royal pair!

GARDINER.
Amen!

QUEEN.
My Lords!
Being a woman, it beseems me not
To treat of my own marriage: but remember,
This ring, which with my crown I first put on,
Hath made the realm my husband before all.
The faith I then impledged unto my People
Must stand inviolate: look well to that;
And bind me to no inconsistent duties.
You will debate this leisurely. May God
Direct and bless your counsels.
[The lords retire.
Now, my lord Bishop,
Bring to our presence Ridley and Latimer.
They shall enjoy free speech, and patient hearing,
Ere we consign them to the secular arm.

GARDINER.
Your Grace shall find them obdurate.

QUEEN.
There may be
A way to soften worse asperities.

GARDINER.
Nay you shall find none rougher.

Enter Ridley and Latimer. They kneel.
QUEEN.
I am glad
That you can kneel.

RIDLEY.
Foully have they belied us,
And basely, madam, who would make you doubt
The loyalty of your true English Church.

QUEEN.
You speak, Sir, stoutly of your Church, as though
There were none greater.

LATIMER.
There is none.

QUEEN.
Methinks
Less arrogance might better suit that garb.

RIDLEY.
God knoweth none have cause to be more humble:
We stand corrected.

QUEEN.
I will task you, then.
You, Ridley, were deputed in my troubles
To tamper with my people.

RIDLEY.
May it please you—
I went with charge to reason with your Grace,
On points of doctrine: further I deny;
And would have scorned.

QUEEN.
Well, Sir, the men that used you—
How dealt they with me?

RIDLEY.
Wrongfully; I answer.

QUEEN.
You have good warrant to say so. Observe me.
Ye took my officers, my stewards, my maidens;
Ye put me to my desk to sum accounts;
Ye taught me how to bake and how to brew:
But there were some found faithful, who had served me,
Could I, without return, have taken service.

RIDLEY.
These were no acts of mine.

QUEEN.
When you had power
You strove to bar the service of my church,
Even in my household: nay, you wrought my brother
To twit me with contumacy—to threaten.
Then made I answer that my soul was God's—
My faith unchangeable—my thoughts mine own.
To this I pledged my head: and ye had ta'en it,
Had not my cousin Charles, the Emperor,
Dictated sufferance on pain of war.

RIDLEY.
The temper of the times in truth pressed hardly.
Somewhat to have yielded had been scarcely sinful.

QUEEN.
Shall I retort that on you? If 'twas then
An argument of worth, why not so now?
What then was my condition now is your's.
But I refrain. I ever have accounted
Death welcomer than life with troubled conscience.
I cannot think one thing and do another.

GARDINER.
The heretick falters.

RIDLEY.
Heretick I am not:
True servant of the living God.

GARDINER.
God's Passion!
Said I not how these fellows should be known?
The living God forsooth! as though there were
A dead one! All your babble is “the Lord!”—
“As the Lord liveth!”

RIDLEY
[to the Queen].
You would not hear God's word.

QUEEN.
What you now call God's word is not the same
As in my father's time.

RIDLEY.
It never alters:
Hath been, and is the same; but better known,
And practised, in some ages than in others.

QUEEN.
It is not as you make it that I take it;
But as the holy Fathers do interpret.

RIDLEY.
I have been wrong! God pardon me that ever
I rested, or ate food, beneath a roof
Where God's word was rejected. I should, rather,
Have shaken from my feet the dust, departing,
In testimony against you and your house!

QUEEN.
Fear ye not, masters Latimer and Ridley,
The secular arm?

RIDLEY.
No earthly arm fear I.

LATIMER.
I should look up and laugh at every stroke
Endured in the good cause.

QUEEN.
Fear ye not, Sirs,
The Church's condemnation?

RIDLEY.
If the true Church,
Assuredly.

QUEEN.
Sir, you are contumacious.
By your own constitutions am I not
Your lawful head ecclesiastical?
You'll not deny it. Hear me then. Albeit
My faith is fixed, I purpose not to shake
The faith of others, further than God shall show
The truth through worthy preachers: to which end
All rash discourses are forbad; and readings
Of Scripture, without license from ourself.
Answer ye not?—Will ye conform and live?

LATIMER.
In all things lawful we have ever been
Conformable: things evil we resist.

QUEEN.
I ask but abstinence from wrong.

RIDLEY.
Times are
When mere inaction is substantial wrong.

LATIMER.
I testify against your abstinence
Or physical, or moral:—thoughts, deeds, words;
All smack of evil. We must speak or die!

QUEEN.
You speak and die, perchance.

LATIMER.
Dear brother Ridley!
Be of good cheer. Whate'er betide we welcome
In the Lord's name! O Queen! that day is past
When spiritual knowledge was confined to priests,
Our very babes drink knowledge as they suck.
Each stripling, as he runs, plucks from each bough
The fruit of knowledge.

QUEEN.
Ah, Sirs, have a care!
The tree of knowledge was an evil thing,
With root in hell, and fruitage unto death.
But in the self-same garden likewise grew
Another mystery, the tree of life.
This too bore fruit, unseen till aftertime:
And this was Christ. Children of Adam, we,
Condemned to cultivate what first we stole,
Must tend the second tree with watchful love,
Or perish by the poison of the first!—
No more. I called you with a good intent:
Ponder what I have said; so shall ye live.
Against God's manifest will vainly ye strive.

[Exeunt severally.

Scene III.

A Street in London.
Enter Underhill and Citizens of two parties.
FIRST CITIZEN.
What means this hurly burly? Ho! my masters,
Will ye not peace when the good Queen commands it?
The Council too—

SECOND CITIZEN.
Good Queen—good Council? say you?
Why do they send their knaves to preach at us?
Wolves in sheep's clothing!

THIRD CITIZEN.
Sir, you wrong us much,
Branding with epithets like these our clergy.

UNDERHILL.
Peace, ye uncivil brawlers! both are wrong.

FIRST CITIZEN.
And who art thou? meddlers are mischief-makers.

SECOND CITIZEN.
He is Queen Mary's servant—fie on his meddling!
Hot-Gospeller forsooth!

UNDERHILL.
Hark ye, Sir growler,
I have a hot hand—hotter than my tongue,
Can make the foul mouth smart that snarls on me.

THIRD CITIZEN.
Well-spoken, preacher!

UNDERHILL.
Well, Sir, what's your pleasure?

THIRD CITIZEN.
Come to Paul's cross, and hear our reverend doctors.
You're not a man to gag soft argument.

SECOND CITIZEN.
Hear argument forsooth! Hark ye, I'll task you.
Why vent your rancour 'gainst the late good King?
It is enough to madden men.—

THIRD CITIZEN.
And you—
Why pray ye for our good Queen's death? 'Tis well
They have made that treason.

UNDERHILL.
Marry, it is well.
She were a generous Queen if rightly guided.
But you must know, Sir, we'll not be restricted
In our souls' freedom. We, Sir, have the word—

THIRD CITIZEN.
You have—but we the sword!

SECOND CITIZEN.
Away with him!
He will infect us—plague upon the leper!

[They chase the third Citizen away.
UNDERHILL.
Come, come; you wax disorderly.

SECOND CITIZEN.
Indeed?
When Cobham wins the city worse shall follow.

UNDERHILL.
Peace, prithee.

SECOND CITIZEN.
When stout Bess shall be our Queen,
There shall be plates and pottles—yea, no fasts.
And chimney nooks for preachers shall be cozy.

FIRST CITIZEN.
So, so—when shall this be?

SECOND CITIZEN.
There have been omens—
Two suns rose in the east—rainbows 'neath moons—
A woman—no, a cow—hath yeaned a calf
Twain-headed!

FIRST CITIZEN.
This is stark folly! one fool hears
A voice cry from the walls of an old house,
And the mob swears it is an Angel's tongue,
Inveighing 'gainst this marriage.

SECOND CITIZEN.
When they shouted
“God save Queen Mary!”—mark—no answer then.
But when they shouted, “Save Elizabeth!”
The voice replied “So be it”—Being asked
What is the Mass? it said, “Idolatry!”

UNDERHILL.
Pshaw! Straight the council had the wall pulled down;
And lugged forth a young girl who made confession.
Queen Mary packed her to the pillory.
Her father would have hanged.

FIRST CITIZEN.
Another day
Some giddy boys played Wyatt and the Queen,
And scratched and kicked, till blood flowed ruefully.
Nay, one, to spite the Queen, they nick-named Philip;
And left half-hanged. What said her Grace to this?
“Lock up the urchins for an hour or so,
And whip the most pugnacious.”

SECOND CITIZEN.
Still, I say,
Down with the scurvy Spaniards! down with all Papists!

UNDERHILL.
To the rescue—Officers!

[A riot ensues.
Shouts heard outside, “Long live Queen Mary!”
Enter the Queen, Lord Mayor: Livery &c., &c.
LORD MAYOR.
This shall be righted.

QUEEN.
Disobedient servants!
Such things ye dared not in my father's time.
O that he were alive but for a month!

MAYOR.
In faith we'll see to this.

QUEEN.
Sir, all these evils
Lie deeper than ye wot. The fount of honour
Is poisoned at its source. My grandsire, father,
And then my brother, raised base parasites
To dignities, not honour: cankered the peerage:
Tainted the prelacy with fanaticks:
Raised quibbling casuists and venal pleaders
To the judicial bench, soiling the ermine
Which should be spotless as the sleeves of Moses
When he received the tablets of the law—
There are among ye men not scrupulous;
Who don or doff their faith like roomy cloaks,
As suits occasion: men whose loyalty
To church and Queen is plastick, and fits well
The ascendant rule—These sycophants would crush
The People, overleap the Law, cajole
Their Prince, betraying all!
[Murmurs among the Queen's suite.
Why murmur ye?

ARUNDEL.
The People are beholden to your Grace.

QUEEN.
Not to the People only, but to you,
Likewise, I speak—proud Nobles! Be ye observant.

ARUNDEL.
In faith I see not—I—what cause we give
That thus your Grace should publicly rebuke us.

QUEEN.
'Tis for your good. Look to it. I would address
Some words to the People generally. Search out
Some platform whence my voice may freely spread.

ARUNDEL
[aside].
Oxford, come hither—Is it not laughable
To mark the exactions of servility
Wrung by these Tudors from the best o'the land,
As the majestic Kings of olden times,
The high Plantagenets had never asked?
What—must we—Veres and Howards—truck and kneel
Before the old Knight's progeny? Shake off
Thy cerements, stout Sir Owen! and laugh out
To see what anticks thine old bones begot!
Bear we this taunting?

OXFORD.
These new men it touches;
Not us. The Yorkist chose to plant his garden
With gay weeds, not true roses: what came of it?
My grandsire smote the louts on Bosworth field,
And left the crook-back Dickon on the grass,
Outstaring the hot sun with his dead eyes.
Little deemed he when Harry Richmond donned
The crown wrenched from the Dead, that his descendants
Should thus be rated by ungrateful tongues:—

ARUNDEL.
Hush! Gardiner's heavy eye wanders: his ear
Is omnipresent as the cuckoo's voice.

OXFORD.
Hear ye the Queen! So saith mine office.

QUEEN.
Citizens!

HERALD.
Keep silence!

QUEEN.
I stand here to face all traitors;
And their weak machinations to expose!
Ye know me as I am, your rightful Queen:
And your allegiance, sworn when I was crowned,
Ye will maintain.

UNDERHILL.
That will we to the death!

MANY VOICES.
God save the Queen!

QUEEN.
Then, too, did I take oaths:
Whereof this spousal ring upon my finger
Bears witness. That I am your lawful Queen
All Christendom allows; your Parliaments
Oft have confirmed. Ye who so lovingly
Obeyed my father, ye will not now desert
His daughter, baited by unliegeful carls?

A CITIZEN.
Down with the rebel curs!

ANOTHER CITIZEN.
God bless Queen Mary!

QUEEN.
I cannot tell how, naturally, a mother
Loveth her children, for I ne'er had any:
But if our subjects may be loved as children,
Be sure that I as earnestly love you
As mothers can.

A CITIZEN.
Bless your pale face!

QUEEN.
And I
Think you love me.

A CITIZEN.
That will we, noble lady!

QUEEN.
Touching this marriage, think me not desirous
Of wedlock. Hitherto I have lived a maiden:
But were God pleased that I should leave you sons
It might be for your welfare. Yet if I saw
Aught dangerous to my People in this marriage
I would renounce it.

A CITIZEN.
May you be happy in it!

QUEEN.
On a queen's word, if my good lords and commons
Mislike this bridal, it shall never be.
Therefore pluck up your hearts—stand fast like true men!
Nor fear those rebels whom your Queen fears not.

CITIZENS.
God bless Queen Mary, and the Prince of Spain!

QUEEN.
Mother of God! that cry is victory!

A VOICE
[behind the Queen].
'Twere well you spake less harshly of your friends!

QUEEN.
Who said those words? Some upstart I'll be sworn!
Respect me, if but for my father's sake,
Who out of nothing made you what you are—
Oxford, your arm! your grandsire's arm at Bosworth
Nobly upheld my grandsire at his need.
Be thou his grandchild's stay. Lead on, my lord.

[Exeunt Queen, &c. &c.
ARUNDEL.
Ay, flattery is sweet: now Oxford's brow
Throbs for his dukedom. Is it for our sins
That we must here perforce have woman Rulers?
The barbarous Briton loved them; but we Saxons
And Normans, spurned them. Vain were thy struggles, Maude!
No sceptre graced Elizabeth of York.
But now the great stem of Plantagenet,
Rest of its males, bears none but female blossoms.
If Mary fail, Elizabeth succeeds.
The Tudor sisters dead, from Scotland then
Shall Mary Stuart ride forth: or in default
Of these, Jane Grey's young sisters, or their mother;
Or Elinor of Clifford. Welladay!
If henceforth lances must give place to needles—
Gauntleted hands to bright eyes and soft lips—
'Twere well methinks to cry, “God save King Mary!”

[Exit.