MORTIMER.

The crown is fallen from thy brows, thou hast

No more of earthly majesty. Make trial,

Raise thy imperial voice, see if a friend,

If a deliverer will rise to save you.

Thy moving form alone remains, the high,

The godlike influence of thy heavenly beauty;

This bids me venture all, this arms my hand

With might, and drives me tow'rd the headsman's axe.

MARY.

Oh! who will save me from his raging madness?

MORTIMER.

Service that's bold demands a bold reward.

Why shed their blood the daring? Is not life

Life's highest good? And he a madman who

Casts life away? First will I take my rest,

Upon the breast that glows with love's own fire!

[He presses her violently to his bosom.

MARY.

Oh, must I call for help against the man

Who would deliver me!

MORTIMER.

Thou'rt not unfeeling,

The world ne'er censured thee for frigid rigor;

The fervent prayer of love can touch thy heart.

Thou mad'st the minstrel Rizzio blest, and gavest

Thyself a willing prey to Bothwell's arms.

MARY.

Presumptuous man!

MORTIMER.

He was indeed thy tyrant,

Thou trembled'st at his rudeness, whilst thou loved'st him;

Well, then-if only terror can obtain thee-

By the infernal gods!

MARY.

Away-you're mad!

MORTIMER.

I'll teach thee then before me, too, to tremble.

KENNEDY (entering suddenly).

They're coming-they approach-the park is filled

With men in arms.

MORTIMER (starting and catching at his sword).

I will defend you-I--

MARY.

O Hannah! save me, save me from his hands.

Where shall I find, poor sufferer, an asylum?

Oh! to what saint shall I address my prayers?

Here force assails me, and within is murder!

[She flies towards the house, KENNEDY follows her.

SCENE VII.

MORTIMER, PAULET, and DRURY rush in in the greatest

consternation. Attendants hasten over the stage.

PAULET.

Shut all the portals-draw the bridges up.

MORTIMER.

What is the matter, uncle?

PAULET.

Where is the murderess?

Down with her, down into the darkest dungeon!

MORTIMER.

What is the matter? What has passed?

PAULET.

The queen!

Accursed hand! Infernal machination!

MORTIMER.

The queen! What queen?

PAULET.

What queen! The Queen of England;

She has been murdered on the road to London.

[Hastens into the house.

SCENE VIII.

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