Mary Stuart

Friedrich Schiller

Mary Stuart: A Tragedy

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

ELIZABETH, Queen of England.

MARY STUART, Queen of Scots, a Prisoner in England.

ROBERT DUDLEY, Earl of Leicester.

GEORGE TALBOT, Earl of Shrewsbury.

WILLIAM CECIL, Lord Burleigh, Lord High Treasurer.

EARL OF KENT.

SIR WILLIAM DAVISON, Secretary of State.

SIR AMIAS PAULET, Keeper of MARY.

SIR EDWARD MORTIMER, his Nephew.

COUNT L'AUBESPINE, the French Ambassador.

O'KELLY, Mortimer's Friend.

COUNT BELLIEVRE, Envoy Extraordinary from France.

SIR DRUE DRURY, another Keeper of MARY.

SIR ANDREW MELVIL, her House Steward.

BURGOYNE, her Physician.

HANNAH KENNEDY, her Nurse.

MARGARET CURL, her Attendant.

Sheriff of the County.

Officer of the Guard.

French and English Lords.

Soldiers.

Servants of State belonging to ELIZABETH.

Servants and Female Attendants of the Queen of Scots.

ACT I

SCENE I

A common apartment in the Castle of Fotheringay.

HANNAH KENNEDY, contending violently with PAULET, who is about to break open a closet; DRURY with an iron crown.

KENNEDY

   How now, sir? what fresh outrage have we here?

   Back from that cabinet!

PAULET

                Whence came the jewel?

   I know 'twas from an upper chamber thrown;

   And you would bribe the gardener with your trinkets.

   A curse on woman's wiles! In spite of all

   My strict precaution and my active search,

   Still treasures here, still costly gems concealed!

   And doubtless there are more where this lay hid.

[Advancing towards the cabinet.

KENNEDY

   Intruder, back! here lie my lady's secrets.

PAULET

   Exactly what I seek.

[Drawing forth papers.

KENNEDY

              Mere trifling papers;

   The amusements only of an idle pen,

   To cheat the dreary tedium of a dungeon.

PAULET

   In idle hours the evil mind is busy.

KENNEDY

   Those writings are in French.

PAULET

                   So much the worse!

   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 assistant.

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

[Exit DRURY.

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 noble heart in time resigns itself

   To great calamities with fortitude;

   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 abasement are the only penance.

KENNEDY

   If youthful blood has led her into error,

   With her own heart and God 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 God preserve).

   And arm assassin 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?

   And did this sad example terrify

   These mad adventurers, whose rival zeal

   Plunges for her into this deep abyss?

   The bloody 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 bloody 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 title.

   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.

PAULET

   No iron-grate is proof against her wiles.

   How do I know these bars are not filed through?

   How that this floor, these walls, that seem so strong

   Without, may not be hollow from within,

   And let in felon treachery when I sleep?

   Accursed office, that's intrusted to me,

   To guard this cunning mother of all ill!

   Fear scares me from my sleep; and in the night

   I, like a troubled spirit, roam and try

   The strength of every bolt, and put to proof

   Each guard's fidelity: – I see, with fear,

   The dawning of each morn, which may confirm

   My apprehensions: – yet, thank God, there's hope

   That all my fears will soon be at an end;

   For rather would I at the gates of hell

   Stand sentinel, and guard the devilish host

   Of damned souls, than this deceitful queen.

KENNEDY

   Here comes the queen.

PAULET

               Christ's image in her hand.

   Pride, and all worldly lusts within her heart.

SCENE II

The same. Enter MARY, veiled, a crucifix in her hand.

KENNEDY (hastening toward her)

   O gracious queen! they tread us under foot;

   No end of tyranny and base oppression;

   Each coming day heaps fresh indignities,

   New sufferings on thy royal head.

MARY

                     Be calm —

   Say, what has happened?

KENNEDY

                See! thy cabinet

   Is forced – thy papers – and thy only treasure,

   Which with such pains we had secured, the last

   Poor remnant of thy bridal ornaments

   From France, is in his hands – naught now remains

   Of royal state – thou art indeed bereft!

MARY

   Compose yourself, my Hannah! and believe me,

   'Tis not these baubles that can make a queen —

   Basely indeed they may behave to us,

   But they cannot debase us. I have learned

   To use myself to many a change in England;

   I can support this too. Sir, you have taken

   By force what I this very day designed

   To have delivered to you. There's a letter

   Amongst these papers for my royal sister

   Of England. Pledge me, sir, your word of honor,

   To give it to her majesty's own hands,

   And not to the deceitful care of Burleigh.

PAULET

   I shall consider what is best to do.

MARY

   Sir, you shall know its import. In this letter

   I beg a favor, a great favor of her, —

   That she herself will give me audience, – she

   Whom I have never seen. I have been summoned

   Before a court of men, whom I can ne'er

   Acknowledge as my peers – of men to whom

   My heart denies its confidence. The queen

   Is of my family, my rank, my sex;

   To her alone – a sister, queen, and woman —

   Can I unfold my heart.

PAULET

               Too oft, my lady,

   Have you intrusted both your fate and honor

   To men less worthy your esteem than these.

MARY

   I, in the letter, beg another favor,

   And surely naught but inhumanity

   Can here reject my prayer. These many years

   Have I, in prison, missed the church's comfort,

   The blessings of the sacraments – and she

   Who robs me of my freedom and my crown,

   Who seeks my very life, can never wish

   To shut the gates of heaven upon my soul.

PAULET

   Whene'er you wish, the dean shall wait upon you.

MARY (interrupting him sharply)

   Talk to me not of deans. I ask the aid

   Of one of my own church – a Catholic priest.

PAULET

   [That is against the published laws of England.

MARY

   The laws of England are no rule for me.

   I am not England's subject; I have ne'er

   Consented to its laws, and will not bow

   Before their cruel and despotic sway.

   If 'tis your will, to the unheard-of rigor

   Which I have borne, to add this new oppression,

   I must submit to what your power ordains;

   Yet will I raise my voice in loud complaints.]

   I also wish a public notary,

   And secretaries, to prepare my will —

   My sorrows and my prison's wretchedness

   Prey on my life – my days, I fear, are numbered —

   I feel that I am near the gates of death.

PAULET

   These serious contemplations well become you.

MARY

   And know I then that some too ready hand

   May not abridge this tedious work of sorrow?

   I would indite my will and make disposal

   Of what belongs to me.

PAULET

               This liberty

   May be allowed to you, for England's queen

   Will not enrich herself by plundering you.

MARY

   I have been parted from my faithful women,

   And from my servants; tell me, where are they?

   What is their fate? I can indeed dispense

   At present with their service, but my heart

   Will feel rejoiced to know these faithful ones

   Are not exposed to suffering and to want!

PAULET

   Your servants have been cared for; [and again

   You shall behold whate'er is taken from you

   And all shall be restored in proper season.]

[Going.

MARY

   And will you leave my presence thus again,

   And not relieve my fearful, anxious heart

   From the fell torments of uncertainty?

   Thanks to the vigilance of your hateful spies,

   I am divided from the world; no voice

   Can reach me through these prison-walls; my fate

   Lies in the hands of those who wish my ruin.

   A month of dread suspense is passed already

   Since when the forty high commissioners

   Surprised me in this castle, and erected,

   With most unseemly haste, their dread tribunal;

   They forced me, stunned, amazed, and unprepared,

   Without an advocate, from memory,

   Before their unexampled court, to answer

   Their weighty charges, artfully arranged.

   They came like ghosts, – like ghosts they disappeared,

   And since that day all mouths are closed to me.

   In vain I seek to construe from your looks

   Which hath prevailed – my cause's innocence

   And my friends' zeal – or my foes' cursed counsel.

   Oh, break this silence! let me know the worst;

   What have I still to fear, and what to hope.

PAULET

   Close your accounts with heaven.

MARY

                    From heaven I hope

   For mercy, sir; and from my earthly judges

   I hope, and still expect, the strictest justice.

PAULET

   Justice, depend upon it, will be done you.

MARY

   Is the suit ended, sir?

PAULET

                I cannot tell.

MARY

   Am I condemned?

PAULET

            I cannot answer, lady.

MARY

[Sir, a good work fears not the light of day.

PAULET

   The day will shine upon it, doubt it not.]

MARY

   Despatch is here the fashion. Is it meant

   The murderer shall surprise me, like the judges?

PAULET

   Still entertain that thought and he will find you

   Better prepared to meet your fate than they did.

MARY (after a pause)

   Sir, nothing can surprise me which a court

   Inspired by Burleigh's hate and Hatton's zeal,

   Howe'er unjust, may venture to pronounce:

   But I have yet to learn how far the queen

   Will dare in execution of the sentence.

PAULET

   The sovereigns of England have no fear

   But for their conscience and their parliament.

   What justice hath decreed her fearless hand

   Will execute before the assembled world.

SCENE III

The same. MORTIMER enters, and without paying attention to the QUEEN, addresses PAULET.

MORTIMER

   Uncle, you're sought for.

[He retires in the same manner. The QUEEN remarks it, and turns towards PAULET, who is about to follow him.

MARY

                 Sir, one favor more

   If you have aught to say to me – from you

   I can bear much – I reverence your gray hairs;

   But cannot bear that young man's insolence;

   Spare me in future his unmannered rudeness.

PAULET

   I prize him most for that which makes you hate him

   He is not, truly, one of those poor fools

   Who melt before a woman's treacherous tears.

   He has seen much – has been to Rheims and Paris,

   And brings us back his true old English heart.

   Lady, your cunning arts are lost on him.

[Exit.

SCENE IV

MARY, KENNEDY.

KENNEDY

   And dare the ruffian venture to your face

   Such language! Oh, 'tis hard – 'tis past endurance.

MARY (lost in reflection)

   In the fair moments of our former splendor

   We lent to flatterers a too willing ear; —

   It is but just, good Hannah, we should now

   Be forced to hear the bitter voice of censure.

KENNEDY

   So downcast, so depressed, my dearest lady!

   You, who before so gay, so full of hope,

   Were used to comfort me in my distress;

   More gracious were the task to check your mirth

   Than chide your heavy sadness.

MARY

                   Well I know him —

   It is the bleeding Darnley's royal shade,

   Rising in anger from his darksome grave

   And never will he make his peace with me

   Until the measures of my woes be full.

KENNEDY

   What thoughts are these —

MARY

                Thou may'st forget it, Hannah;

   But I've a faithful memory – 'tis this day

   Another wretched anniversary

   Of that regretted, that unhappy deed —

   Which I must celebrate with fast and penance.

KENNEDY

   Dismiss at length in peace this evil spirit.

   The penitence of many a heavy year,

   Of many a suffering, has atoned the deed;

   The church, which holds the key of absolution,

   Pardons the crime, and heaven itself's appeased.

MARY

   This long-atoned crime arises fresh

   And bleeding from its lightly-covered grave;

   My husband's restless spirit seeks revenge;

   No sacred bell can exorcise, no host

   In priestly hands dismiss it to his tomb.

KENNEDY

   You did not murder him; 'twas done by others.

MARY

   But it was known to me; I suffered it,

   And lured him with my smiles to death's embrace.

KENNEDY

   Your youth extenuates your guilt. You were

   Of tender years.

MARY

            So tender, yet I drew

   This heavy guilt upon my youthful head.

KENNEDY

   You were provoked by direst injuries,

   And by the rude presumption of the man,

   Whom out of darkness, like the hand of heaven,

   Your love drew forth, and raised above all others.

   Whom through your bridal chamber you conducted

   Up to your throne, and with your lovely self,

   And your hereditary crown, distinguished

   [Your work was his existence, and your grace

   Bedewed him like the gentle rains of heaven.]

   Could he forget that his so splendid lot

   Was the creation of your generous love?

   Yet did he, worthless as he was, forget it.

   With base suspicions, and with brutal manners,

   He wearied your affections, and became

   An object to you of deserved disgust:

   The illusion, which till now had overcast

   Your judgment, vanished; angrily you fled

   His foul embrace, and gave him up to scorn.

   And did he seek again to win your love?

   Your favor? Did he e'er implore your pardon?

   Or fall in deep repentance at your feet?

   No; the base wretch defied you; he, who was

   Your bounty's creature, wished to play your king,

   Before your eyes he had your favorite singer,

   Poor Rizzio, murdered; you did but avenge

   With blood the bloody deed —

MARY

                  And bloodily,

   I fear, too soon 'twill be avenged on me:

   You seek to comfort me, and you condemn me.

KENNEDY

   You were, when you consented to this deed,

   No more yourse