Joseph Mellish - Mary Stuart (Act 1 Scene 2) lyrics

The same. Enter MARY, veiled, a crucifix in her hand. KENNEDY (hastening toward her). O gracious queen! they tread us under foot; No end of tyranny and base oppression; Each coming day heaps fresh indignities, New sufferings on thy royal head. MARY. Be calm— Say, what has happened? KENNEDY. See! thy cabinet Is forced—thy papers—and thy only treasure, Which with such pains we had secured, the last Poor remnant of thy bridal ornaments From France, is in his hands—naught now remains Of royal state—thou art indeed bereft! MARY. Compose yourself, my Hannah! and believe me, 'Tis not these baubles that can make a queen— Basely indeed they may behave to us, But they cannot debase us. I have learned To use myself to many a change in England; I can support this too. Sir, you have taken By force what I this very day designed To have delivered to you. There's a letter Amongst these papers for my royal sister Of England. Pledge me, sir, your word of honor, To give it to her majesty's own hands, And not to the deceitful care of Burleigh. PAULET. I shall consider what is best to do. MARY. Sir, you shall know its import. In this letter I beg a favor, a great favor of her,— That she herself will give me audience,—she Whom I have never seen. I have been summoned Before a court of men, whom I can ne'er Acknowledge as my peers—of men to whom My heart denies its confidence. The queen Is of my family, my rank, my s**; To her alone—a sister, queen, and woman— Can I unfold my heart. PAULET. Too oft, my lady, Have you intrusted both your fate and honor To men less worthy your esteem than these. MARY. I, in the letter, beg another favor, And surely naught but inhumanity Can here reject my prayer. These many years Have I, in prison, missed the church's comfort, The blessings of the sacraments—and she Who robs me of my freedom and my crown, Who seeks my very life, can never wish To shut the gates of heaven upon my soul. PAULET. Whene'er you wish, the dean shall wait upon you. MARY (interrupting him sharply). Talk to me not of deans. I ask the aid Of one of my own church—a Catholic priest. PAULET. [That is against the published laws of England. MARY. The laws of England are no rule for me. I am not England's subject; I have ne'er Consented to its laws, and will not bow Before their cruel and despotic sway. If 'tis your will, to the unheard-of rigor Which I have borne, to add this new oppression, I must submit to what your power ordains; Yet will I raise my voice in loud complaints.] I also wish a public notary, And secretaries, to prepare my will— My sorrows and my prison's wretchedness Prey on my life—my days, I fear, are numbered— I feel that I am near the gates of d**h. PAULET. These serious contemplations well become you. MARY. And know I then that some too ready hand May not abridge this tedious work of sorrow? I would indite my will and make disposal Of what belongs tome. PAULET. This liberty May be allowed to you, for England's queen Will not enrich herself by plundering you. MARY. I have been parted from my faithful women, And from my servants; tell me, where are they? What is their fate? I can indeed dispense At present with their service, but my heart Will feel rejoiced to know these faithful ones Are not exposed to suffering and to want! PAULET. Your servants have been cared for; [and again You shall behold whate'er is taken from you And all shall be restored in proper season.] [Going. MARY. And will you leave my presence thus again, And not relieve my fearful, anxious heart From the fell torments of uncertainty? Thanks to the vigilance of your hateful spies, I am divided from the world; no voice Can reach me through these prison-walls; my fate Lies in the hands of those who wish my ruin. A month of dread suspense is pa**ed already Since when the forty high commissioners Surprised me in this castle, and erected, With most unseemly haste, their dread tribunal; They forced me, stunned, amazed, and unprepared, Without an advocate, from memory, Before their unexampled court, to answer Their weighty charges, artfully arranged. They came like ghosts,—like ghosts they disappeared, And since that day all mouths are closed to me. In vain I seek to construe from your looks Which hath prevailed—my cause's innocence And my friends' zeal—or my foes' cursed counsel. Oh, break this silence! let me know the worst; What have I still to fear, and what to hope. PAULET. Close your accounts with heaven. MARY. From heaven I hope For mercy, sir; and from my earthly judges I hope, and still expect, the strictest justice. PAULET. Justice, depend upon it, will be done you. MARY. Is the suit ended, sir? PAULET. I cannot tell. MARY. Am I condemned? PAULET. I cannot answer, lady. MARY. [Sir, a good work fears not the light of day. PAULET. The day will shine upon it, doubt it not.] MARY. Despatch is here the fashion. Is it meant The murderer shall surprise me, like the judges? PAULET. Still entertain that thought and he will find you Better prepared to meet your fate than they did. MARY (after a pause). Sir, nothing can surprise me which a court Inspired by Burleigh's hate and Hatton's zeal, Howe'er unjust, may venture to pronounce: But I have yet to learn how far the queen Will dare in execution of the sentence. PAULET. The sovereigns of England have no fear But for their conscience and their parliament. What justice hath decreed her fearless hand Will execute before the a**embled world.