The Works of Frederick Schiller - Part 358
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Part 358

That tongue betokens England's enemy.

KENNEDY.

Sketches of letters to the Queen of England.

PAULET.

I'll be their bearer. Ha! what glitters here?

[He touches a secret spring, and draws out jewels from a private drawer.

A royal diadem enriched with stones, And studded with the fleur-de-lis of France.

[He hands it to his a.s.sistant.

Here, take it, Drury; lay it with the rest.

[Exit DRURY.

[And ye have found the means to hide from us Such costly things, and screen them, until now, From our inquiring eyes?]

KENNEDY.

Oh, insolent And tyrant power, to which we must submit.

PAULET.

She can work ill as long as she hath treasures; For all things turn to weapons in her hands.

KENNEDY (supplicating).

Oh, sir! be merciful; deprive us not Of the last jewel that adorns our life!

'Tis my poor lady's only joy to view This symbol of her former majesty; Your hands long since have robbed us of the rest.

PAULET.

'Tis in safe custody; in proper time 'Twill be restored to you with scrupulous care.

KENNEDY.

Who that beholds these naked walls could say That majesty dwelt here? Where is the throne?

Where the imperial canopy of state?

Must she not set her tender foot, still used To softest treading, on the rugged ground?

With common pewter, which the lowliest dame Would scorn, they furnish forth her homely table.

PAULET.

Thus did she treat her spouse at Stirling once; And pledged, the while, her paramour in gold.

KENNEDY.

Even the mirror's trifling aid withheld.

PAULET.

The contemplation of her own vain image Incites to hope, and prompts to daring deeds.

KENNEDY.

Books are denied her to divert her mind.

PAULET.

The Bible still is left to mend her heart.

KENNEDY.

Even of her very lute she is deprived!

PAULET.

Because she tuned it to her wanton airs.

KENNEDY.

Is this a fate for her, the gentle born, Who in her very cradle was a queen?

Who, reared in Catherine's luxurious court, Enjoyed the fulness of each earthly pleasure?

Was't not enough to rob her of her power, Must ye then envy her its paltry tinsel?

A n.o.ble heart in time resigns itself To great calamities with fort.i.tude; But yet it cuts one to the soul to part At once with all life's little outward trappings!

PAULET.

These are the things that turn the human heart To vanity, which should collect itself In penitence; for a lewd, vicious life, Want and abas.e.m.e.nt are the only penance.

KENNEDY.

If youthful blood has led her into error, With her own heart and G.o.d she must account: There is no judge in England over her.

PAULET.

She shall have judgment where she hath transgressed.

KENNEDY.

Her narrow bonds restrain her from transgression.

PAULET.

And yet she found the means to stretch her arm Into the world, from out these narrow bonds, And, with the torch of civil war, inflame This realm against our queen (whom G.o.d preserve).

And arm a.s.sa.s.sin bands. Did she not rouse From out these walls the malefactor Parry, And Babington, to the detested crime Of regicide? And did this iron grate Prevent her from decoying to her toils The virtuous heart of Norfolk? Saw we not The first, best head in all this island fall A sacrifice for her upon the block?

[The n.o.ble house of Howard fell with him.]

And did this sad example terrify These mad adventurers, whose rival zeal Plunges for her into this deep abyss?

The b.l.o.o.d.y scaffold bends beneath the weight Of her new daily victims; and we ne'er Shall see an end till she herself, of all The guiltiest, be offered up upon it.

Oh! curses on the day when England took This Helen to its hospitable arms.

KENNEDY.

Did England then receive her hospitably?

Oh, hapless queen! who, since that fatal day When first she set her foot within this realm, And, as a suppliant--a fugitive-- Came to implore protection from her sister, Has been condemned, despite the law of nations, And royal privilege, to weep away The fairest years of youth in prison walls.

And now, when she hath suffered everything Which in imprisonment is hard and bitter, Is like a felon summoned to the bar, Foully accused, and though herself a queen, Constrained to plead for honor and for life.

PAULET.

She came amongst us as a murderess, Chased by her very subjects from a throne Which she had oft by vilest deeds disgraced.

Sworn against England's welfare came she hither, To call the times of b.l.o.o.d.y Mary back, Betray our church to Romish tyranny, And sell our dear-bought liberties to France.

Say, why disdained she to subscribe the treaty Of Edinborough--to resign her claim To England's crown--and with one single word, Traced by her pen, throw wide her prison gates?

No:--she had rather live in vile confinement, And see herself ill-treated, than renounce The empty honors of her barren t.i.tle.

Why acts she thus? Because she trusts to wiles, And treacherous arts of base conspiracy; And, hourly plotting schemes of mischief, hopes To conquer, from her prison, all this isle.

KENNEDY.

You mock us, sir, and edge your cruelty With words of bitter scorn:--that she should form Such projects; she, who's here immured alive, To whom no sound of comfort, not a voice Of friendship comes from her beloved home; Who hath so long no human face beheld, Save her stern gaoler's unrelenting brows; Till now, of late, in your uncourteous cousin She sees a second keeper, and beholds Fresh bolts and bars against her multiplied.