Queen Mary and Harold | Page 7

against him; The Council, people, Parliament
against him; But I will have him! My hard father hated me; My brother
rather hated me than loved; My sister cowers and hates me. Holy
Virgin, Plead with thy blessed Son; grant me my prayer: Give me my
Philip; and we two will lead The living waters of the Faith again Back
thro' their widow'd channel here, and watch The parch'd banks rolling
incense, as of old, To heaven, and kindled with the palms of Christ!
Enter USHER.
Who waits, sir?
USHER. Madam, the Lord Chancellor.
MARY. Bid him come in. (Enter GARDINER.) Good morning, my
good Lord.
[Exit USHER.
GARDINER. That every morning of your Majesty May be most good,
is every morning's prayer Of your most loyal subject, Stephen
Gardiner.

MARY. Come you to tell me this, my Lord?
GARDINER. And more. Your people have begun to learn your worth.
Your pious wish to pay King Edward's debts, Your lavish household
curb'd, and the remission Of half that subsidy levied on the people,
Make all tongues praise and all hearts beat for you. I'd have you yet
more loved: the realm is poor, The exchequer at neap-tide: we might
withdraw Part of our garrison at Calais.
MARY. Calais! Our one point on the main, the gate of France! I am
Queen of England; take mine eyes, mine heart, But do not lose me
Calais.
GARDINER. Do not fear it. Of that hereafter. I say your Grace is loved.
That I may keep you thus, who am your friend And ever faithful
counsellor, might I speak?
MARY. I can forespeak your speaking. Would I marry Prince Philip, if
all England hate him? That is Your question, and I front it with another:
Is it England, or a party? Now, your answer.
GARDINER. My answer is, I wear beneath my dress A shirt of mail:
my house hath been assaulted, And when I walk abroad, the populace,
With fingers pointed like so many daggers, Stab me in fancy, hissing
Spain and Philip; And when I sleep, a hundred men-at-arms Guard my
poor dreams for England. Men would murder me, Because they think
me favourer of this marriage.
MARY. And that were hard upon you, my Lord Chancellor.
GARDINER. But our young Earl of Devon--
MARY. Earl of Devon? I freed him from the Tower, placed him at
Court; I made him Earl of Devon, and--the fool-- He wrecks his health
and wealth on courtesans, And rolls himself in carrion like a dog.
GARDINER. More like a school-boy that hath broken bounds,
Sickening himself with sweets.

MARY. I will not hear of him. Good, then, they will revolt: but I am
Tudor, And shall control them.
GARDINER. I will help you, Madam, Even to the utmost. All the
church is grateful. You have ousted the mock priest, repulpited The
shepherd of St. Peter, raised the rood again, And brought us back the
mass. I am all thanks To God and to your Grace: yet I know well, Your
people, and I go with them so far, Will brook nor Pope nor Spaniard
here to play The tyrant, or in commonwealth or church.
MARY (_showing the picture). _Is this the face of one who plays the
tyrant? Peruse it; is it not goodly, ay, and gentle?
GARDINER. Madam, methinks a cold face and a haughty. And when
your Highness talks of Courtenay-- Ay, true--a goodly one. I would his
life Were half as goodly (_aside_).
MARY. What is that you mutter?
GARDINER. Oh, Madam, take it bluntly; marry Philip, And be
stepmother of a score of sons! The prince is known in Spain, in
Flanders, ha! For Philip--
MARY. You offend us; you may leave us. You see thro' warping
glasses.
GARDINER. If your Majesty--
MARY. I have sworn upon the body and blood of Christ I'll none but
Philip.
GARDINER. Hath your Grace so sworn?
MARY. Ay, Simon Renard knows it.
GARDINER. News to me! It then remains for your poor Gardiner, So
you still care to trust him somewhat less Than Simon Renard, to
compose the event In some such form as least may harm your Grace.

MARY. I'll have the scandal sounded to the mud. I know it a scandal.
GARDINER. All my hope is now It may be found a scandal.
MARY. You offend us.
GARDINER (_aside_). These princes are like children, must be
physick'd, The bitter in the sweet. I have lost mine office, It may be,
thro' mine honesty, like a fool. [Exit.
Enter USHER.
MARY. Who waits?
USHER. The Ambassador from France, your Grace.
MARY (_sits down_). Bid him come in. Good morning, Sir de
Noailles.
[Exit USHER,
NOAILLES (_entering_). A happy morning to your Majesty.
MARY. And I should some time have a happy morning; I have had
none yet.