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Mary Stuart: A Tragedy Part 14

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No one will be convinced that I am right: I must take care that my connivance in Her death be wrapped in everlasting doubt.

In deeds of such uncertain double visage Safety lies only in obscurity.

Those measures are the worst that stand avowed; What's not abandoned, is not wholly lost.

MORTIMER (seeking to learn her meaning).

Then it perhaps were best----



ELIZABETH (quick).

Ay, surely 'twere The best; Oh, sir, my better angel speaks Through you;--go on then, worthy sir, conclude You are in earnest, you examine deep, Have quite a different spirit from your uncle.

MORTIMER (surprised).

Have you imparted then your wishes to him?

ELIZABETH.

I am sorry that I have.

MORTIMER.

Excuse his age, The old man is grown scrupulous; such bold Adventures ask the enterprising heart Of youth----

ELIZABETH.

And may I venture then on you----

MORTIMER.

My hand I'll lend thee; save then as thou canst Thy reputation----

ELIZABETH.

Yes, sir; if you could But waken me some morning with this news "Maria Stuart, your bloodthirsty foe, Breathed yesternight her last"----

MORTIMER.

Depend on me.

ELIZABETH.

When shall my head lie calmly down to sleep?

MORTIMER.

The next new moon will terminate thy fears.

ELIZABETH.

And be the selfsame happy day the dawn Of your preferment--so G.o.d speed you, sir; And be not hurt, if, chance, my thankfulness Should wear the mask of darkness. Silence is The happy suitor's G.o.d. The closest bonds, The dearest, are the works of secrecy.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

MORTIMER (alone).

Go, false, deceitful queen! As thou deludest The world, e'en so I cozen thee; 'tis right, Thus to betray thee; 'tis a worthy deed.

Look I then like a murderer? Hast thou read Upon my brow such base dexterity?

Trust only to my arm, and keep thine own Concealed--a.s.sume the pious outward show Of mercy 'fore the world, while reckoning In secret on my murderous aid; and thus By gaining time we shall insure her rescue.

Thou wilt exalt me!--show'st me from afar The costly recompense: but even were Thyself the prize, and all thy woman's favor, What art thou, poor one, and what canst thou proffer?

I scorn ambition's avaricious strife, With her alone is all the charm of life, O'er her, in rounds of endless glory, hover Spirits with grace, and youth eternal blessed, Celestial joy is throned upon her breast.

Thou hast but earthly, mortal goods to offer-- That sovereign good, for which all else be slighted, When heart in heart, delighting and delighted; Together flow in sweet forgetfulness;-- Ne'er didst thou woman's fairest crown possess, Ne'er hast thou with thy hand a lover's heart requited.

I must attend Lord Leicester, and deliver Her letter to him--'tis a hateful charge-- I have no confidence in this court puppet-- I can effect her rescue, I alone; Be danger, honor, and the prize my own.

[As he is going, PAULET meets him.

SCENE VII.

MORTIMER, PAULET.

PAULET.

What said the queen to you?

MORTIMER.

'Twas nothing, sir; Nothing of consequence----

PAULET (looking at him earnestly).

Hear, Mortimer!

It is a false and slippery ground on which You tread. The grace of princes is alluring, Youth loves ambition--let not yours betray you.

MORTIMER.

Was it not yourself that brought me to the court?

PAULET.

Oh, would to G.o.d I had not done as much!

The honor of our house was never reaped In courts--stand fast, my nephew--purchase not Too dear, nor stain your conscience with a crime.

MORTIMER.

What are these fears? What are you dreaming of?

PAULET.

How high soever the queen may pledge herself To raise you, trust not her alluring words.

[The spirit of the world's a lying spirit, And vice is a deceitful, treacherous friend.]

She will deny you, if you listen to her; And, to preserve her own good name, will punish The b.l.o.o.d.y deed, which she herself enjoined.

MORTIMER.

The b.l.o.o.d.y deed!----

PAULET.

Away, dissimulation!-- I know the deed the queen proposed to you.

She hopes that your ambitious youth will prove More docile than my rigid age. But say, Have you then pledged your promise, have you?

MORTIMER.

Uncle!

PAULET.

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