Mary Stuart: A Tragedy - Part 4
Library

Part 4

KENNEDY.

O let an everlasting silence veil That dreadful deed: the heart revolts at it.

A crime to stain the darkest criminal!

Yet you are no such lost one, that I know.

I nursed your youth myself--your heart is framed For tender softness: 'tis alive to shame, And all your fault is thoughtless levity.

Yes, I repeat it, there are evil spirits, Who sudden fix in man's unguarded breast Their fatal residence, and there delight To act their dev'lish deeds; then hurry back Unto their native h.e.l.l, and leave behind Remorse and horror in the poisoned bosom.

Since this misdeed, which blackens thus your life, You have done nothing ill; your conduct has Been pure; myself can witness your amendment.

Take courage, then; with your own heart make peace.

Whatever cause you have for penitence, You are not guilty here. Nor England's queen, Nor England's parliament can be your judge.

Here might oppresses you: you may present Yourself before this self-created court With all the fort.i.tude of innocence.

MARY.

I hear a step.

KENNEDY.

It is the nephew--In.

SCENE V.

The same. Enter MORTIMER, approaching cautiously.

MORTIMER (to KENNEDY).

Step to the door, and keep a careful watch, I have important business with the queen.

MARY (with dignity).

I charge thee, Hannah, go not hence--remain.

MORTIMER.

Fear not, my gracious lady--learn to know me.

[He gives her a card.

MARY (She examines it, and starts back astonished).

Heavens! What is this?

MORTIMER (to KENNEDY).

Retire, good Kennedy; See that my uncle comes not unawares.

MARY (to KENNEDY, who hesitates, and looks at the QUEEN inquiringly).

Go in; do as he bids you.

[KENNEDY retires with signs of wonder.

SCENE VI.

MARY, MORTIMER.

MARY.

From my uncle In France--the worthy Cardinal of Lorrain?

[She reads.

"Confide in Mortimer, who brings you this; You have no truer, firmer friend in England."

[Looking at him with astonishment.

Can I believe it? Is there no delusion To cheat my senses? Do I find a friend So near, when I conceived myself abandoned By the whole world? And find that friend in you, The nephew of my gaoler, whom I thought My most inveterate enemy?

MORTIMER (kneeling).

Oh, pardon, My gracious liege, for the detested mask, Which it has cost me pain enough to wear; Yet through such means alone have I the power To see you, and to bring you help and rescue.

MARY.

Arise, sir; you astonish me; I cannot So suddenly emerge from the abyss Of wretchedness to hope: let me conceive This happiness, that I may credit it.

MORTIMER.

Our time is brief: each moment I expect My uncle, whom a hated man attends; Hear, then, before his terrible commission Surprises you, how heaven prepares your rescue.

MARY.

You come in token of its wondrous power.

MORTIMER.

Allow me of myself to speak.

MARY.

Say on.

MORTIMER.

I scarce, my liege, had numbered twenty years, Trained in the path of strictest discipline And nursed in deadliest hate to papacy, When led by irresistible desire For foreign travel, I resolved to leave My country and its puritanic faith Far, far behind me: soon with rapid speed I flew through France, and bent my eager course On to the plains of far-famed Italy.

'Twas then the time of the great jubilee: And crowds of palmers filled the public roads; Each image was adorned with garlands; 'twas As if all human-kind were wandering forth In pilgrimage towards the heavenly kingdom.

The tide of the believing mult.i.tude Bore me too onward, with resistless force, Into the streets of Rome. What was my wonder, As the magnificence of stately columns Rushed on my sight! the vast triumphal arches, The Colosseum's grandeur, with amazement Struck my admiring senses; the sublime Creative spirit held my soul a prisoner In the fair world of wonders it had framed.

I ne'er had felt the power of art till now.

The church that reared me hates the charms of sense; It tolerates no image, it adores But the unseen, the incorporeal word.

What were my feelings, then, as I approached The threshold of the churches, and within, Heard heavenly music floating in the air: While from the walls and high-wrought roofs there streamed Crowds of celestial forms in endless train-- When the Most High, Most Glorious pervaded My captivated sense in real presence!

And when I saw the great and G.o.dlike visions, The Salutation, the Nativity, The Holy Mother, and the Trinity's Descent, the luminous transfiguration And last the holy pontiff, clad in all The glory of his office, bless the people!

Oh! what is all the pomp of gold and jewels With which the kings of earth adorn themselves!

He is alone surrounded by the G.o.dhead; His mansion is in truth an heavenly kingdom, For not of earthly moulding are these forms!

MARY.

O spare me, sir! No further. Spread no more Life's verdant carpet out before my eyes, Remember I am wretched, and a prisoner.

MORTIMER.

I was a prisoner, too, my queen; but swift My prison-gates flew open, when at once My spirit felt its liberty, and hailed The smiling dawn of life. I learned to burst Each narrow prejudice of education, To crown my brow with never-fading wreaths, And mix my joy with the rejoicing crowd.

Full many n.o.ble Scots, who saw my zeal, Encouraged me, and with the gallant French They kindly led me to your princely uncle, The Cardinal of Guise. Oh, what a man!

How firm, how clear, how manly, and how great!

Born to control the human mind at will!