PAULET.
The queen is hunting in the neighborhood--
MARY.
What!
PAULET.
In a few moments she'll appear before you.
KENNEDY (hastening towards MARY, and about to fall).
How fare you, dearest lady? You grow pale.
PAULET.
How? Is't not well? Was it not then your prayer?
'Tis granted now, before it was expected;
You who had ever such a ready speech,
Now summon all your powers of eloquence,
The important time to use them now is come.
MARY.
Oh, why was I not told of this before?
Now I am not prepared for it-not now
What, as the greatest favor, I besought,
Seems to me now most fearful; Hannah, come,
Lead me into the house, till I collect
My spirits.
PAULET.
Stay; you must await her here.
Yes! I believe you may be well alarmed
To stand before your judge.
SCENE III.
Enter the EARL OF SHREWSBURY.
MARY.
'Tis not for that, O God!
Far other thoughts possess me now.
Oh, worthy Shrewsbury! You come as though
You were an angel sent to me from heaven.
I cannot, will not see her. Save me, save me
From the detested sight!
SHREWSBURY.
Your majesty,
Command yourself, and summon all your courage,
'Tis the decisive moment of your fate.
MARY.
For years I've waited, and prepared myself.
For this I've studied, weighed, and written down
Each word within the tablet of my memory
That was to touch and move her to compassion.
Forgotten suddenly, effaced is all,
And nothing lives within me at this moment
But the fierce, burning feeling of my wrongs.
My heart is turned to direst hate against her;
All gentle thoughts, all sweet forgiving words,
Are gone, and round me stand with grisly mien,
The fiends of hell, and shake their snaky locks!
SHREWSBURY.
Command your wild, rebellious blood;-constrain
The bitterness which fills your heart. No good
Ensues when hatred is opposed to hate.
How much soe'er the inward struggle cost
You must submit to stern necessity,
The power is in her hand, be therefore humble.
MARY.
To her? I never can.
SHREWSBURY.
But pray, submit.
Speak with respect, with calmness! Strive to move
Her magnanimity; insist not now
Upon your rights, not now-'tis not the season.
MARY.
Ah! woe is me! I've prayed for my destruction,
And, as a curse to me, my prayer is heard.
We never should have seen each other-never!
Oh, this can never, never come to good.
Rather in love could fire and water meet,
The timid lamb embrace the roaring tiger!
I have been hurt too grievously; she hath
Too grievously oppressed me;-no atonement
Can make us friends!
SHREWSBURY.
First see her, face to face:
Did I not see how she was moved at reading
Your letter? How her eyes were drowned in tears?
No-she is not unfeeling; only place
