Mary Stuart | Page 3

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 tome.
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