Mary Stuart

Friedrich von Schiller
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Title: Mary Stuart
Author: Frederich Schiller
Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6791]
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one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on January 28,
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Edition: 10
Language: English
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0. START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY
STUART, BY SCHILLER ***
This eBook was produced by Tapio Riikonen
and David Widger,
[email protected]
MARY STUART.
A TRAGEDY.
By Frederich Schiller
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.
[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 noble
heart in time resigns itself
To great calamities with fortitude;
But
yet it cuts one to
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