And laid not to my breast the poisonous adder!

Accuse not fate! your own deceitful heart

It was, the wild ambition of your house

As yet no enmities had passed between us,

When your imperious uncle, the proud priest,

Whose shameless hand grasps at all crowns, attacked me

With unprovoked hostility, and taught

You, but too docile, to assume my arms,

To vest yourself with my imperial title,

And meet me in the lists in mortal strife:

What arms employed he not to storm my throne?

The curses of the priests, the people's sword,

The dreadful weapons of religious frenzy;-

Even here in my own kingdom's peaceful haunts

He fanned the flames of civil insurrection;

But God is with me, and the haughty priest

Has not maintained the field. The blow was aimed

Full at my head, but yours it is which falls!

MARY.

I'm in the hand of heaven. You never will

Exert so cruelly the power it gives you.

ELIZABETH.

Who shall prevent me? Say, did not your uncle

Set all the kings of Europe the example,

How to conclude a peace with those they hate.

Be mine the school of Saint Bartholomew;

What's kindred then to me, or nation's laws?

The church can break the bands of every duty;

It consecrates the regicide, the traitor;

I only practise what your priests have taught!

Say then, what surety can be offered me,

Should I magnanimously loose your bonds?

Say, with what lock can I secure your faith,

Which by Saint Peter's keys cannot be opened?

Force is my only surety; no alliance

Can be concluded with a race of vipers.

MARY.

Oh! this is but your wretched, dark suspicion!

For you have constantly regarded me

But as a stranger, and an enemy.

Had you declared me heir to your dominions,

As is my right, then gratitude and love

In me had fixed, for you, a faithful friend

And kinswoman.

ELIZABETH.

Your friendship is abroad,

Your house is papacy, the monk your brother.

Name you my successor! The treacherous snare!

That in my life you might seduce my people;

And, like a sly Armida, in your net

Entangle all our noble English youth;

That all might turn to the new rising sun,

And I--

MARY.

O sister, rule your realm in peace;

I give up every claim to these domains-

Alas! the pinions of my soul are lamed;

Greatness entices me no more: your point

Is gained; I am but Mary's shadow now-

My noble spirit is at last broke down

By long captivity:-you've done your worst

On me; you have destroyed me in my bloom!

Now, end your work, my sister;-speak at length

The word, which to pronounce has brought you hither;

For I will ne'er believe that you are come,

To mock unfeelingly your hapless victim.

Pronounce this word;-say, 'Mary, you are free:

You have already felt my power,-learn now

To honor too my generosity.'

Say this, and I will take my life, will take

My freedom, as a present from your hands.

One word makes all undone;-I wait for it;-

Oh, let it not be needlessly delayed.

Woe to you if you end not with this word!

For should you not, like some divinity,

Dispensing noble blessings, quit me now,

Then, sister, not for all this island's wealth,

For all the realms encircled by the deep,

Would I exchange my present lot for yours.

ELIZABETH.

And you confess at last that you are conquered:

Are all your schemes run out? No more assassins

Now on the road? Will no adventurer

Attempt again for you the sad achievement?

Yes, madam, it is over:-you'll seduce

No mortal more. The world has other cares;-

None is ambitious of the dangerous honor

Of being your fourth husband-you destroy

Your wooers like your husbands.

MARY (starting angrily).

Sister, sister!-

Grant me forbearance, all ye powers of heaven!

Вы читаете Mary Stuart
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