Queen Mary; and, Harold. Baron Alfred Tennyson Tennyson
but took To the English red and white. Your royal father (For so they say) was all pure lily and rose In his youth, and like a lady. MARY. O, just God! Sweet mother, you had time and cause enough To sicken of his lilies and his roses. Cast off, betray'd, defamed, divorced, forlorn! And then the King—that traitor past forgiveness, The false archbishop fawning on him, married The mother of Elizabeth—a heretic Ev'n as she is; but God hath sent me here To take such order with all heretics That it shall be, before I die, as tho' My father and my brother had not lived. What wast thou saying of this Lady Jane, Now in the Tower? ALICE. Why, Madam, she was passing Some chapel down in Essex, and with her Lady Anne Wharton, and the Lady Anne Bow'd to the Pyx; but Lady Jane stood up Stiff as the very backbone of heresy. And wherefore bow ye not, says Lady Anne, To him within there who made Heaven and Earth? I cannot, and I dare not, tell your Grace What Lady Jane replied. MARY. But I will have it. ALICE. She said—pray pardon me, and pity her— She hath harken'd evil counsel—ah! she said, The baker made him. MARY. Monstrous! blasphemous! She ought to burn. Hence, thou (Exit ALICE). No—being traitor Her head will fall: shall it? she is but a child. We do not kill the child for doing that His father whipt him into doing—a head So full of grace and beauty! would that mine Were half as gracious! O, my lord to be, My love, for thy sake only. I am eleven years older than he is. But will he care for that? No, by the holy Virgin, being noble, But love me only: then the bastard sprout, My sister, is far fairer than myself. Will he be drawn to her? No, being of the true faith with myself. Paget is for him—for to wed with Spain Would treble England—Gardiner is against him; The Council, people, Parliament against him; But I will have him! My hard father hated me; My brother rather hated me than loved; My sister cowers and hates me. Holy Virgin, Plead with thy blessed Son; grant me my prayer: Give me my Philip; and we two will lead The living waters of the Faith again Back thro' their widow'd channel here, and watch The parch'd banks rolling incense, as of old, To heaven, and kindled with the palms of Christ! Enter USHER. Who waits, sir? USHER. Madam, the Lord Chancellor. MARY. Bid him come in. (Enter GARDINER.) Good morning, my good Lord. [Exit USHER. GARDINER. That every morning of your Majesty May be most good, is every morning's prayer Of your most loyal subject, Stephen Gardiner. MARY. Come you to tell me this, my Lord? GARDINER. And more. Your people have begun to learn your worth. Your pious wish to pay King Edward's debts, Your lavish household curb'd, and the remission Of half that subsidy levied on the people, Make all tongues praise and all hearts beat for you. I'd have you yet more loved: the realm is poor, The exchequer at neap-tide: we might withdraw Part of our garrison at Calais. MARY. Calais! Our one point on the main, the gate of France! I am Queen of England; take mine eyes, mine heart, But do not lose me Calais. GARDINER. Do not fear it. Of that hereafter. I say your Grace is loved. That I may keep you thus, who am your friend And ever faithful counsellor, might I speak? MARY. I can forespeak your speaking. Would I marry Prince Philip, if all England hate him? That is Your question, and I front it with another: Is it England, or a party? Now, your answer. GARDINER. My answer is, I wear beneath my dress A shirt of mail: my house hath been assaulted, And when I walk abroad, the populace, With fingers pointed like so many daggers, Stab me in fancy, hissing Spain and Philip; And when I sleep, a hundred men-at-arms Guard my poor dreams for England. Men would murder me, Because they think me favourer of this marriage. MARY. And that were hard upon you, my Lord Chancellor. GARDINER. But our young Earl of Devon— MARY. Earl of Devon? I freed him from the Tower, placed him at Court; I made him Earl of Devon, and—the fool— He wrecks his health and wealth on courtesans, And rolls himself in carrion like a dog. GARDINER. More like a school-boy that hath broken bounds, Sickening himself with sweets. MARY. I will not hear of him. Good, then, they will revolt: but I am Tudor, And shall control them. GARDINER. I will help you, Madam, Even to the utmost. All the church is grateful. You have ousted the mock priest, repulpited The shepherd of St. Peter, raised the rood again, And brought us back the mass. I am all thanks To God and to your Grace: yet I know well, Your people, and I go with them so far, Will brook nor Pope nor Spaniard here to play The tyrant, or in commonwealth or church. MARY (showing the picture). Is this the face of one who plays the tyrant? Peruse it; is it not goodly, ay, and gentle? GARDINER. Madam, methinks a cold face and a haughty. And when your Highness talks of Courtenay— Ay, true—a goodly one. I would his life Were half as goodly (aside). MARY. What is that you mutter? GARDINER. Oh, Madam, take it bluntly; marry Philip, And be stepmother of a score of sons! The prince is known in Spain, in Flanders, ha! For Philip— MARY. You offend us; you may leave us. You see thro' warping glasses. GARDINER. If your Majesty— MARY. I have sworn upon the body and blood of Christ I'll none but Philip. GARDINER. Hath your Grace so sworn? MARY. Ay, Simon Renard knows it. GARDINER. News to me! It then remains for your poor Gardiner, So you still care to trust him somewhat less Than Simon Renard, to compose the event In some such form as least may harm your Grace. MARY. I'll have the scandal sounded to the mud. I know it a scandal. GARDINER. All my hope is now It may be found a scandal. MARY. You offend us. GARDINER (aside). These princes are like children, must be physick'd, The bitter in the sweet. I have lost mine office, It may be, thro' mine honesty, like a fool. [Exit. Enter USHER. MARY. Who waits? USHER. The Ambassador from France, your Grace. MARY (sits down). Bid him come in. Good morning, Sir de Noailles. [Exit USHER, NOAILLES (entering). A happy morning to your Majesty. MARY. And I should some time have a happy morning; I have had none yet. What says the King your master? NOAILLES. Madam, my master hears with much alarm, That you may marry Philip, Prince of Spain— Foreseeing, with whate'er unwillingness, That if this Philip be the titular king Of England, and at war with him, your Grace And kingdom will be suck'd into the war, Ay, tho' you long for peace; wherefore, my master, If but to prove your Majesty's goodwill, Would fain have some fresh treaty drawn between you. MARY. Why some fresh treaty? wherefore should I do it? Sir, if we marry, we shall still maintain All former treaties with his Majesty. Our royal word for that! and your good master, Pray God he do not be the first to break them, Must be content with that; and so, farewell. NOAILLES (going, returns). I would your answer had been other, Madam, For I foresee dark days. MARY. And so do I, sir; Your master works against me in the dark. I do believe he holp Northumberland Against me. NOAILLES. Nay, pure phantasy, your Grace. Why should he move against you? MARY. Will you hear why? Mary of Scotland—for I have not own'd My sister, and I will not—after me Is heir of England; and my royal father, To make the crown of Scotland one with ours, Had mark'd her for my brother Edward's bride; Ay, but your king stole her a babe from Scotland In order to betroth her to your Dauphin. See then: Mary of Scotland, married to your Dauphin, Would make our England, France; Mary of England, joining hands with Spain, Would be too strong for France. Yea, were there issue born to her, Spain and we, One crown, might rule the world. There lies your fear. That is your drift. You play at hide and seek. Show me your faces! NOAILLES. Madam, I am amazed: French, I must needs wish all good things for France. That must be pardon'd me; but I protest Your Grace's policy hath a farther flight Than mine into the future. We but seek Some settled ground for peace to stand upon. MARY. Well, we will leave all this, sir, to our council. Have you seen Philip ever? NOAILLES. Only once. MARY. Is this like Philip? NOAILLES. Ay, but nobler-looking. MARY. Hath he the large ability of the Emperor? NOAILLES. No, surely. MARY. I can make allowance for thee, Thou speakest of the enemy of thy king. NOAILLES. Make no allowance for the naked truth. He is every way a lesser man than Charles; Stone-hard, ice-cold—no dash of daring in him. MARY. If cold, his life is pure. NOAILLES. Why (smiling), no, indeed. MARY. Sayst thou? NOAILLES. A very wanton life indeed (smiling). MARY. Your audience is concluded, sir. [Exit NOAILLES. You cannot Learn a man's nature from his natural foe. Enter USHER. Who waits? USHER. The Ambassador of Spain, your Grace. [Exit. Enter SIMON RENARD. MARY (rising to meet him). Thou art ever welcome, Simon Renard. Hast thou Brought me the letter which thine Emperor promised Long since, a formal offer of the hand Of Philip? RENARD. Nay, your Grace, it hath not reach'd me. I know not wherefore—some mischance of flood, And broken bridge, or spavin'd horse, or wave And wind at their old battle: he must have written. MARY. But Philip never writes me one poor word. Which in his absence had been all my wealth. Strange in a wooer! RENARD. Yet I know the Prince, So your king-parliament suffer him to land, Yearns to set foot upon your island shore. MARY. God change