Part 33 (1/2)

SCENE X.

ELIZABETH alone.

Oh! servitude of popularity!

Disgraceful slavery! How weary am I Of flattering this idol, which my soul Despises in its inmost depth! Oh! when Shall I once more be free upon this throne?

I must respect the people's voice, and strive To win the favor of the mult.i.tude, And please the fancies of a mob, whom naught But jugglers' tricks delight. O call not him A king who needs must please the world: 'tis he Alone, who in his actions does not heed The fickle approbation of mankind.

Have I then practised justice, all my life Shunned each despotic deed; have I done this Only to bind my hands against this first, This necessary act of violence?

My own example now condemns myself!

Had I but been a tyrant, like my sister, My predecessor, I could fearless then Have shed this royal blood:--but am I now Just by my own free choice? No--I was forced By stern necessity to use this virtue; Necessity, which binds e'en monarch's wills.

Surrounded by my foes, my people's love Alone supports me on my envied throne.

All Europe's powers confederate to destroy me; The pope's inveterate decree declares me Accursed and excommunicated. France Betrays me with a kiss, and Spain prepares At sea a fierce exterminating war; Thus stand I, in contention with the world, A poor defenceless woman: I must seek To veil the spot in my imperial birth, By which my father cast disgrace upon me: In vain with princely virtues would I hide it; The envious hatred of my enemies Uncovers it, and places Mary Stuart, A threatening fiend, before me evermore!

[Walking up and down, with quick and agitated steps.

Oh, no! this fear must end. Her head must fall!

I will have peace. She is the very fury Of my existence; a tormenting demon, Which destiny has fastened on my soul.

Wherever I had planted me a comfort, A flattering hope, my way was ever crossed By this infernal viper! She has torn My favorite, and my destined bridegroom from me.

The hated name of every ill I feel Is Mary Stuart--were but she no more On earth I should be free as mountain air.

[Standing still.

With what disdain did she look down on me, As if her eye should blast me like the lightning!

Poor feeble wretch! I bear far other arms, Their touch is mortal, and thou art no more.

[Advancing to the table hastily, and taking the pen.

I am a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, am I? Hapless wretch, I am but so the while thou liv'st and breath'st.

Thy death will make my birth legitimate.

The moment I destroy thee is the doubt Destroyed which hangs o'er my imperial right.

As soon as England has no other choice, My mother's honor and my birthright triumphs!

[She signs with resolution; lets her pen then fall, and steps back with an expression of terror. After a pause she rings.

SCENE XI.

ELIZABETH, DAVISON.

ELIZABETH.

Where are their lords.h.i.+ps?

DAVISON.

They are gone to quell The tumult of the people. The alarm Was instantly appeased when they beheld The Earl of Shrewsbury. That's he! exclaimed A hundred voices--that's the man--he saved The queen; hear him--the bravest man in England!

And now began the gallant Talbot, blamed In gentle words the people's violence, And used such strong, persuasive eloquence, That all were pacified, and silently They slunk away.

ELIZABETH.

The fickle mult.i.tude!

Which turns with every wind. Unhappy he Who leans upon this reed! 'Tis well, Sir William; You may retire again---- [As he is going towards the door.