Mary Stuart: A Tragedy Part 18

Ne'er did I see thy beauty so resplendent, My sight is dazzled by thy heavenly charms.

Oh!

ELIZABETH.

Whence this sigh?

LEICESTER.

Have I no reason, then, To sigh? When I behold you in your glory, I feel anew, with pain unspeakable, The loss which threatens me.

ELIZABETH.

What loss, my lord?

LEICESTER.

Your heart; your own inestimable self Soon will you feel yourself within the arms Of your young ardent husband, highly blessed; He will possess your heart without a rival.

He is of royal blood, that am not I.

Yet, spite of all the world can say, there lives not One on this globe who with such fervent zeal Adores you as the man who loses you.

Anjou hath never seen you, can but love Your glory and the splendor of your reign; But I love you, and were you born of all The peasant maids the poorest, I the first Of kings, I would descend to your condition, And lay my crown and sceptre at your feet!

ELIZABETH.

Oh, pity me, my Dudley; do not blame me; I cannot ask my heart. Oh, that had chosen Far otherwise! Ah, how I envy others Who can exalt the object of their love!

But I am not so blest: 'tis not my fortune To place upon the brows of him, the dearest Of men to me, the royal crown of England.

The Queen of Scotland was allowed to make Her hand the token of her inclination; She hath had every freedom, and hath drunk, Even to the very dregs, the cup of joy.

LEICESTER.

And now she drinks the bitter cup of sorrow.

ELIZABETH.

She never did respect the world's opinion; Life was to her a sport; she never courted The yoke to which I bowed my willing neck.

And yet, methinks, I had as just a claim As she to please myself and taste the joys Of life: but I preferred the rigid duties Which royalty imposed on me; yet she, She was the favorite of all the men Because she only strove to be a woman; And youth and age became alike her suitors.

Thus are the men voluptuaries all!

The willing slaves of levity and pleasure; Value that least which claims their reverence.

And did not even Talbot, though gray-headed, Grow young again when speaking of her charms?

LEICESTER.

Forgive him, for he was her keeper once, And she has fooled him with her cunning wiles.

ELIZABETH.

And is it really true that she's so fair?

So often have I been obliged to hear The praises of this wonder--it were well If I could learn on what I might depend: Pictures are flattering, and description lies; I will trust nothing but my own conviction.

Why gaze you at me thus?

LEICESTER.

I placed in thought You and Maria Stuart side by side.

Yes! I confess I oft have felt a wish, If it could be but secretly contrived, To see you placed beside the Scottish queen, Then would you feel, and not till then, the full Enjoyment of your triumph: she deserves To be thus humbled; she deserves to see, With her own eyes, and envy's glance is keen, Herself surpa.s.sed, to feel herself o'ermatched, As much by thee in form and princely grace As in each virtue that adorns the s.e.x.

ELIZABETH.

In years she has the advantage----

LEICESTER.

Has she so?

I never should have thought it. But her griefs, Her sufferings, indeed! 'tis possible Have brought down age upon her ere her time.

Yes, and 'twould mortify her more to see thee As bride--she hath already turned her back On each fair hope of life, and she would see thee Advancing towards the open arms of joy.

See thee as bride of France's royal son, She who hath always plumed herself so high On her connection with the house of France, And still depends upon its mighty aid.

ELIZABETH (with a careless air).

I'm teazed to grant this interview.

LEICESTER.

She asks it As a favor; grant it as a punishment.

For though you should conduct her to the block, Yet would it less torment her than to see Herself extinguished by your beauty's splendor.

Thus can you murder her as she hath wished To murder you. When she beholds your beauty, Guarded by modesty, and beaming bright, In the clear glory of unspotted fame (Which she with thoughtless levity discarded), Exalted by the splendor of the crown, And blooming now with tender bridal graces-- Then is the hour of her destruction come.

Yes--when I now behold you--you were never, No, never were you so prepared to seal The triumph of your beauty. As but now You entered the apartment, I was dazzled As by a glorious vision from on high.

Could you but now, now as you are, appear Before her, you could find no better moment.

ELIZABETH.

Now? no, not now; no, Leicester; this must be Maturely weighed--I must with Burleigh----

LEICESTER.

Burleigh!

To him you are but sovereign, and as such Alone he seeks your welfare; but your rights, Derived from womanhood, this tender point Must be decided by your own tribunal, Not by the statesman; yet e'en policy Demands that you should see her, and allure By such a generous deed the public voice.

You can hereafter act as it may please you, To rid you of the hateful enemy.

ELIZABETH.

But would it then become me to behold My kinswoman in infamy and want?

They say she is not royally attended; Would not the sight of her distress reproach me?

LEICESTER.

You need not cross her threshold; hear my counsel.

A fortunate conjuncture favors it.

The hunt you mean to honor with your presence Is in the neighborhood of Fotheringay; Permission may be given to Lady Stuart To take the air; you meet her in the park, As if by accident; it must not seem To have been planned, and should you not incline, You need not speak to her.

ELIZABETH.

If I am foolish, Be yours the fault, not mine. I would not care To-day to cross your wishes; for to-day I've grieved you more than all my other subjects.

[Tenderly.

Let it then be your fancy. Leicester, hence You see the free obsequiousness of love.

Which suffers that which it cannot approve.

[LEICESTER prostrates himself before her, and the curtain falls.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

In a park. In the foreground trees; in the background a distant prospect.

MARY advances, running from behind the trees.

HANNAH KENNEDY follows slowly.