Mary Stuart by Friedrich Schiller (best ereader for epub .txt) 📖

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 God speed you, sir;
And be not hurt, if, chance, my thankfulness
Should wear the mask of darkness. Silence is
The happy suitor's god. 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 - assume 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 God 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 bloody deed, which she herself enjoined.

MORTIMER.
The bloody 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.
If you have done so, I abandon you,
And lay my curse upon you - -

LEICESTER (entering).
Worthy sir!
I with your nephew wish a word. The queen
Is graciously inclined to him; she wills
That to his custody the Scottish queen
Be with full powers intrusted. She relies
On his fidelity.

PAULET.
Relies! - 'tis well - -

LEICESTER.
What say you, sir?

PAULET.
Her majesty relies
On him; and I, my noble lord, rely
Upon myself, and my two open eyes.

[Exit.


SCENE VIII.

LEICESTER, MORTIMER.

LEICESTER (surprised).
What ailed the knight?

MORTIMER.
My lord, I cannot tell
What angers him: the confidence, perhaps,
The queen so suddenly confers on me.

LEICESTER.
Are you deserving then of confidence?

MORTIMER.
This would I ask of you, my Lord of Leicester.

LEICESTER.
You said you wished to speak with me in private.

MORTIMER.
Assure me first that I may safely venture.

LEICESTER.
Who gives me an assurance on your side?
Let not my want of confidence offend you;
I see you, sir, exhibit at this court
Two different aspects; one of them must be
A borrowed one; but which of them is real?

MORTIMER.
The selfsame doubts I have concerning you.

LEICESTER.
Which, then, shall pave the way to confidence?

MORTIMER.
He, who by doing it, is least in danger.

LEICESTER.
Well, that are you - -

MORTIMER.
No, you; the evidence
Of such a weighty, powerful peer as you
Can overwhelm my voice. My accusation
Is weak against your rank and influence.

LEICESTER.
Sir, you mistake. In everything but this
I'm powerful here; but in this tender point
Which I am called upon to trust you with,
I am the weakest man of all the court,
The poorest testimony can undo me.

MORTIMER.
If the all-powerful Earl of Leicester deign
To stoop so low to meet me, and to make
Such a confession to me, I may venture
To think a little better of myself,
And lead the way in magnanimity.

LEICESTER.
Lead you the way of confidence, I'll follow.

MORTIMER (producing suddenly the letter).
Here is a letter from the Queen of Scotland.

LEICESTER (alarmed, catches hastily at the letter).
Speak softly, sir! what see I? Oh, it is
Her picture!

[Kisses and examines it with speechless joy - a pause.

MORTIMER (who has watched him closely the whole tine).
Now, my lord, I can believe you.

LEICESTER (having hastily run through the letter).
You know the purport of this letter, sir.

MORTIMER.
Not I.

LEICESTER.
Indeed! She surely hath informed you.

MORTIMER.
Nothing hath she informed me of. She said
You would explain this riddle to me - 'tis
To me a riddle, that the Earl of Leicester,
The far-famed favorite of Elizabeth,
The open, bitter enemy of Mary,
And one of those who spoke her mortal sentence,
Should be the man from whom the queen expects
Deliverance from her woes; and yet it must be;
Your eyes express too plainly what your heart
Feels for the hapless lady.

LEICESTER.
Tell me, Sir,
First, how it comes that you should take so warm
An interest in her fate; and what it was
Gained you her confidence?

MORTIMER.
My lord, I can,
And in few words, explain this mystery.
I lately have at Rome abjured my creed,
And stand in correspondence with the Guises.
A letter from the cardinal archbishop
Was my credential with the Queen of Scots.

LEICESTER.
I am acquainted, sir, with your conversion;
'Twas that which waked my confidence towards you.
[Each remnant of distrust be henceforth banished;]
Your hand, sir, pardon me these idle doubts,
I cannot use too much precaution here.
Knowing how Walsingham and Burleigh hate me,
And, watching me, in secret spread their snares;
You might have been their instrument, their creature
To lure me to their toils.

MORTIMER.
How poor a part
So great a nobleman is forced to play
At court! My lord, I pity you.

LEICESTER.
With joy
I rest upon the faithful breast of friendship,
Where I can ease me of this long constraint.
You seem surprised, sir, that my heart is turned
So suddenly towards the captive queen.
In truth, I never hated her; the times
Have forced me to be her enemy.
She was, as you well know, my destined bride,
Long since, ere she bestowed her hand on Darnley,
While yet the beams of glory round her smiled,
Coldly I then refused the proffered boon.
Now in confinement, at the gates of death,
I claim her at the hazard of my life.

MORTIMER.
True magnanimity, my lord.

LEICESTER.
The state
Of circumstances since that time is changed.
Ambition made me all insensible
To youth and beauty. Mary's hand I held
Too insignificant for me; I hoped
To be the husband of the Queen of England.

MORTIMER.
It is well known she gave you preference
Before all others.

LEICESTER.
So, indeed, it seemed.
Now, after ten lost years of tedious courtship
And hateful self-constraint - oh, sir, my heart
Must ease itself of this long agony.
They call me happy! Did they only know
What the chains are, for which they envy me!
When I had sacrificed ten bitter years
To the proud idol of her vanity;
Submitted with a slave's humility
To every change of her despotic fancies
The plaything of each little wayward whim.
At times by seeming tenderness caressed,
As oft repulsed with proud and cold disdain;
Alike tormented by her grace and rigor:
Watched like a prisoner by the Argus eyes
Of jealousy; examined like a schoolboy,
And railed at like a servant. Oh, no tongue
Can paint this hell.

MORTIMER.
My lord, I feel for you.

LEICESTER.
To lose, and at the very goal, the prize