The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 373
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LEICESTER (having hastily run through the letter).
You know the purport of this letter, sir.
MORTIMER.
Not I.
LEICESTER.
Indeed! She surely hath informed you.
MORTIMER.
Nothing hath she informed me of. She said You would explain this riddle to me--'tis To me a riddle, that the Earl of Leicester, The far-famed favorite of Elizabeth, The open, bitter enemy of Mary, And one of those who spoke her mortal sentence, Should be the man from whom the queen expects Deliverance from her woes; and yet it must be; Your eyes express too plainly what your heart Feels for the hapless lady.
LEICESTER.
Tell me, Sir, First, how it comes that you should take so warm An interest in her fate; and what it was Gained you her confidence?
MORTIMER.
My lord, I can, And in few words, explain this mystery.
I lately have at Rome abjured my creed, And stand in correspondence with the Guises.
A letter from the cardinal archbishop Was my credential with the Queen of Scots.
LEICESTER.
I am acquainted, sir, with your conversion; 'Twas that which waked my confidence towards you.
[Each remnant of distrust be henceforth banished;]
Your hand, sir, pardon me these idle doubts, I cannot use too much precaution here.
Knowing how Walsingham and Burleigh hate me, And, watching me, in secret spread their snares; You might have been their instrument, their creature To lure me to their toils.
MORTIMER.
How poor a part So great a n.o.bleman is forced to play At court! My lord, I pity you.
LEICESTER.
With joy I rest upon the faithful breast of friends.h.i.+p, Where I can ease me of this long constraint.
You seem surprised, sir, that my heart is turned So suddenly towards the captive queen.
In truth, I never hated her; the times Have forced me to be her enemy.
She was, as you well know, my destined bride, Long since, ere she bestowed her hand on Darnley, While yet the beams of glory round her smiled, Coldly I then refused the proffered boon.
Now in confinement, at the gates of death, I claim her at the hazard of my life.
MORTIMER.
True magnanimity, my lord.
LEICESTER.
The state Of circ.u.mstances since that time is changed.
Ambition made me all insensible To youth and beauty. Mary's hand I held Too insignificant for me; I hoped To be the husband of the Queen of England.
MORTIMER.
It is well known she gave you preference Before all others.
LEICESTER.
So, indeed, it seemed.
Now, after ten lost years of tedious courts.h.i.+p And hateful self-constraint--oh, sir, my heart Must ease itself of this long agony.
They call me happy! Did they only know What the chains are, for which they envy me!
When I had sacrificed ten bitter years To the proud idol of her vanity; Submitted with a slave's humility To every change of her despotic fancies The plaything of each little wayward whim.
At times by seeming tenderness caressed, As oft repulsed with proud and cold disdain; Alike tormented by her grace and rigor: Watched like a prisoner by the Argus eyes Of jealousy; examined like a schoolboy, And railed at like a servant. Oh, no tongue Can paint this h.e.l.l.
MORTIMER.
My lord, I feel for you.
LEICESTER.
To lose, and at the very goal, the prize Another comes to rob me of the fruits Of my so anxious wooing. I must lose To her young blooming husband all those rights Of which I was so long in full possession; And I must from the stage descend, where I So long have played the most distinguished part.
'Tis not her hand alone this envious stranger Threatens, he'd rob me of her favor too; She is a woman, and he formed to please.
MORTIMER.
He is the son of Catherine. He has learnt In a good school the arts of flattery.
LEICESTER.
Thus fall my hopes; I strove to seize a plank To bear me in this s.h.i.+pwreck of my fortunes, And my eye turned itself towards the hope Of former days once more; then Mary's image Within me was renewed, and youth and beauty Once more a.s.serted all their former rights.
No more 'twas cold ambition; 'twas my heart Which now compared, and with regret I felt The value of the jewel I had lost.
With horror I beheld her in the depths.
Of misery, cast down by my transgression; Then waked the hope in me that I might still Deliver and possess her; I contrived To send her, through a faithful hand, the news Of my conversion to her interests; And in this letter which you brought me, she a.s.sures me that she pardons me, and offers Herself as guerdon if I rescue her.
MORTIMER.
But you attempted nothing for her rescue.
You let her be condemned without a word: You gave, yourself, your verdict for her death; A miracle must happen, and the light Of truth must move me, me, her keeper's nephew, And heaven must in the Vatican at Rome Prepare for her an unexpected succour, Else had she never found the way to you.
LEICESTER.
Oh, sir, it has tormented me enough!
About this time it was that they removed her From Talbot's castle, and delivered her Up to your uncle's stricter custody.
Each way to her was shut. I was obliged Before the world to persecute her still; But do not think that I would patiently Have seen her led to death. No, Sir; I hoped, And still I hope, to ward off all extremes, Till I can find some certain means to save her.
MORTIMER.
These are already found: my Lord of Leicester; Your generous confidence in me deserves A like return. I will deliver her.
That is my object here; my dispositions Are made already, and your powerful aid a.s.sures us of success in our attempt.
LEICESTER.
What say you? You alarm me! How? You would----
MORTIMER.
I'll open forcibly her prison-gates; I have confederates, and all is ready.
LEICESTER.
You have confederates, accomplices?
Alas! In what rash enterprise would you Engage me? And these friends, know they my secret?
MORTIMER.
Fear not; our plan was laid without your help, Without your help it would have been accomplished, Had she not signified her resolution To owe her liberty to you alone.
LEICESTER.
And can you, then, with certainty a.s.sure me That in your plot my name has not been mentioned?
MORTIMER.
You may depend upon it. How, my lord, So scrupulous when help is offered you?
The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 373
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The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 373 summary
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