Queen Mary and Harold | Page 5

Even so, fair lady.
ELIZABETH. You know to flatter ladies.
COURTENAY. Nay, I meant True matters of the heart.
ELIZABETH. My heart, my Lord, Is no great party in the state as yet.
COURTENAY. Great, said you? nay, you shall be great. I love you, Lay my life in your hands. Can you be close?
ELIZABETH. Can you, my Lord?
COURTENAY. Close as a miser's casket. Listen: The King of France, Noailles the Ambassador, The Duke of Suffolk and Sir Peter Carew, Sir Thomas Wyatt, I myself, some others, Have sworn this Spanish marriage shall not be. If Mary will not hear us--well--conjecture-- Were I in Devon with my wedded bride, The people there so worship me--Your ear; You shall be Queen.
ELIZABETH. You speak too low, my Lord; I cannot hear you.
COURTENAY. I'll repeat it.
ELIZABETH. No! Stand further off, or you may lose your head.
COURTENAY. I have a head to lose for your sweet sake.
ELIZABETH. Have you, my Lord? Best keep it for your own. Nay, pout not, cousin. Not many friends are mine, except indeed Among the many. I believe you mine; And so you may continue mine, farewell, And that at once.
Enter MARY, behind.
MARY. Whispering--leagued together To bar me from my Philip.
COURTENAY. Pray--consider--
ELIZABETH (seeing the QUEEN). Well, that's a noble horse of yours, my Lord. I trust that he will carry you well to-day, And heal your headache.
COURTENAY. You are wild; what headache? Heartache, perchance; not headache.
ELIZABETH (aside to COURTENAY). Are you blind?
[COURTENAY sees the QUEEN _and exit. Exit_ MARY.
Enter LORD WILLIAM HOWARD.
HOWARD. Was that my Lord of Devon? do not you Be seen in corners with my Lord of Devon. He hath fallen out of favour with the Queen. She fears the Lords may side with you and him Against her marriage; therefore is he dangerous. And if this Prince of fluff and feather come To woo you, niece, he is dangerous everyway.
ELIZABETH. Not very dangerous that way, my good uncle.
HOWARD. But your own state is full of danger here. The disaffected, heretics, reformers, Look to you as the one to crown their ends. Mix not yourself with any plot I pray you; Nay, if by chance you hear of any such, Speak not thereof--no, not to your best friend, Lest you should be confounded with it. Still-- Perinde ac cadaver--as the priest says, You know your Latin--quiet as a dead body. What was my Lord of Devon telling you?
ELIZABETH. Whether he told me anything or not, I follow your good counsel, gracious uncle. Quiet as a dead body.
HOWARD. You do right well. I do not care to know; but this I charge you, Tell Courtenay nothing. The Lord Chancellor (I count it as a kind of virtue in him, He hath not many), as a mastiff dog May love a puppy cur for no more reason Than that the twain have been tied up together, Thus Gardiner--for the two were fellow-prisoners So many years in yon accursed Tower-- Hath taken to this Courtenay. Look to it, niece, He hath no fence when Gardiner questions him; All oozes out; yet him--because they know him The last White Rose, the last Plantagenet (Nay, there is Cardinal Pole, too), the people Claim as their natural leader--ay, some say, That you shall marry him, make him King belike.
ELIZABETH. Do they say so, good uncle?
HOWARD. Ay, good niece! You should be plain and open with me, niece. You should not play upon me.
ELIZABETH. No, good uncle.
Enter GARDINER.
GARDINER. The Queen would see your Grace upon the moment.
ELIZABETH. Why, my lord Bishop?
GARDINER. I think she means to counsel your withdrawing To Ashridge, or some other country house.
ELIZABETH. Why, my lord Bishop?
GARDINER. I do but bring the message, know no more. Your Grace will hear her reasons from herself.
ELIZABETH. 'Tis mine own wish fulfill'd before the word Was spoken, for in truth I had meant to crave Permission of her Highness to retire To Ashridge, and pursue my studies there.
GARDINER. Madam, to have the wish before the word Is man's good Fairy--and the Queen is yours. I left her with rich jewels in her hand, Whereof 'tis like enough she means to make A farewell present to your Grace.
ELIZABETH. My Lord, I have the jewel of a loyal heart.
GARDINER. I doubt it not, Madam, most loyal. [Bows low and exit.
HOWARD. See, This comes of parleying with my Lord of Devon. Well, well, you must obey; and I myself Believe it will be better for your welfare. Your time will come.
ELIZABETH. I think my time will come. Uncle, I am of sovereign nature, that I know, Not to be quell'd; and I have felt within me Stirrings of some great doom when God's just hour Peals--but this fierce old Gardiner--his big baldness, That irritable forelock which he rubs, His buzzard beak and deep-incavern'd eyes Half fright me.
HOWARD. You've a bold heart;