Mary Stuart by Swinburne Algernon Charles

Author:Swinburne, Algernon Charles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: (Privatkopie)
Published: 2010-02-03T05:00:00+00:00

Act IV

Elizabeth

Scene I. Richmond

Walsingham and Davison.

WALSINGHAM.

It is God's wrath, too sure, that holds her hand;

His plague upon this people, to preserve

By her sole mean her deadliest enemy, known

By proof more potent than approof of law

In all points guilty, but on more than all

Toward all this country dangerous. To take off

From the court held last month at Fotheringay

Authority with so full commission given

To pass upon her judgment – suddenly

Cut short by message of some three lines writ

With hurrying hand at midnight, and despatched

To maim its work upon the second day,

What else may this be in so wise a queen

But madness, as a brand to sear the brain

Of one by God infatuate? yea, and now

That she receives the French ambassador

With one more special envoy from his king,

Except their message touch her spleen with fire

And so undo itself, we cannot tell

What doubt may work upon her. Had we but

Some sign more evident of some private seal

Confirming toward her by more personal proof

The Scottish queen's inveteracy, for this

As for our country plucked from imminent death

We might thank God: but with such gracious words

Of piteous challenge and imperial plea

She hath wrought by letter on our mistress' mind,

We may not think her judgment so could slip,

Borne down with passion or forgetfulness,

As to leave bare her bitter root of heart

And core of evil will there labouring.

DAVISON.

Yet

I see no shade of other surety cast

From any sign of likelihood. It were

Not shameful more than dangerous, though she bade,

To have her prisoner privily made away;

Yet stands the queen's heart wellnigh fixed hereon

When aught may seem to fix it; then as fast

Wavers, but veers to that bad point again

Whence blowing the wind blows down her honour, nor

Brings surety of life with fame's destruction.

WALSINGHAM.

Ay,

We are no Catholic keepers, and his charge

Need fear no poison in our watch-dog's fang,

Though he show honest teeth at her, to threat

Thieves' hands with loyal danger.

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