The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 394

CURL.

All the walls were hung With black; a s.p.a.cious scaffold, too, o'erspread With sable cloth, was raised above the floor, And in the middle of the scaffold stood A dreadful sable block! upon it lay A naked, polished axe:--the hall was full Of cruel people, crowding round the scaffold Who, with a horrid thirst for human blood, Seemed waiting for the victim!

THE WOMEN.

Gracious heaven, Protect our queen!

MELVIL.

Be calm; the queen approaches.

SCENE VI.

Enter MARY in white and sumptuously arrayed, as for a festival: she wears hanging from her neck, on a row of small beads, an Agnus Dei; a rosary hangs from her girdle; she bears a crucifix in her hand, and a diadem of precious stones binds her hair; her large black veil is thrown back.

On her entrance all present fall back on both sides with the most violent expressions of anguish.

MELVIL falls involuntarily upon his knees.

MARY (with quiet majesty, looking round the whole circle).

Why these complaints? Why weep ye? Ye should rather Rejoice with me, that now at length the end Of my long woe approaches; that my shackles Fall off, my prison opens, and my soul Delighted mounts on seraph's wings, and seeks The land of everlasting liberty.

When I was offered up to the oppression Of my proud enemy, was forced to suffer Ign.o.ble taunts, and insults most unfitting A free and sovereign queen, then was the time To weep for me; but as an earnest friend, Beneficent and healing death approaches.

All the indignities which I have suffered On earth are covered by his sable wings.

The most degraded criminal's enn.o.bled By his last sufferings, by his final exit; I feel again the crown upon my brows.

And dignity possess my swelling soul!

[Advancing a few steps.

How! Melvil here! My worthy sir, not so; Arise; you rather come in time to see The triumph of your mistress than her death.

One comfort, which I never had expected, Is granted me, that after death my name Will not be quite abandoned to my foes; One friend at least, one partner of my faith, Will be my witness in the hour of death.

Say, honest Melvil, how you fared the while In this inhospitable, hostile land?

For since the time they tore you from my side My fears for you have oft depressed my soul.

MELVIL.

No other evil galled me but my grief For thee, and that I wanted power to serve thee.

MARY.

How fares my chamberlain, old Didier?

But sure the faithful servant long has slept The sleep of death, for he was full of years.

MELVIL.

G.o.d hath not granted him as yet this grace; He lives to see the grave o'erwhelm thy youth.

MARY.

Oh! could I but have felt before my death, The happiness of pressing one descendant Of the dear blood of Stuart to my bosom.

But I must suffer in a foreign land, None but my servants to bewail my fate!

Sir; to your loyal bosom I commit My latest wishes. Bear then, sir, my blessing To the most Christian king, my royal brother, And the whole royal family of France.

I bless the cardinal, my honored uncle, And also Henry Guise, my n.o.ble cousin.

I bless the holy father, the vicegerent Of Christ on earth, who will, I trust, bless me.

I bless the King of Spain, who n.o.bly offered Himself as my deliverer, my avenger.

They are remembered in my will: I hope That they will not despise, how poor soe'er They be, the presents of a heart which loves them.

[Turning to her servants.

I have bequeathed you to my royal brother Of France; he will protect you, he will give you Another country, and a better home; And if my last desire have any weight, Stay not in England; let no haughty Briton Glut his proud heart with your calamities, Nor see those in the dust who once were mine.

Swear by this image of our suffering Lord To leave this fatal land when I'm no more.

MELVIL (touching the crucifix).

I swear obedience in the name of all.

MARY.

What I, though poor and plundered, still possess, Of which I am allowed to make disposal, Shall be amongst you shared; for I have hope In this at least my will may be fulfilled.

And what I wear upon my way to death Is yours--nor envy me on this occasion The pomp of earth upon the road to heaven.

[To the ladies of her chamber.

To you, my Alice, Gertrude, Rosamund, I leave my pearls, my garments: you are young, And ornament may still delight your hearts.

You, Margaret, possess the nearest claims, To you I should be generous: for I leave you The most unhappy woman of them all.

That I have not avenged your husband's fault On you I hope my legacy will prove.

The worth of gold, my Hannah, charms not thee; Nor the magnificence of precious stones: My memory, I know, will be to thee The dearest jewel; take this handkerchief, I worked it for thee, in the hours of sorrow, With my own hands, and my hot, scalding tears Are woven in the texture:--you will bind My eyes with this, when it is time: this last Sad service I would wish but from my Hannah.

KENNEDY.

O Melvil! I cannot support it.

MARY.

Come, Come all and now receive my last farewell.

[She stretches forth her hands; the WOMEN violently weeping, fall successively at her feet, and kiss her outstretched hand.

Margaret, farewell--my Alice, fare thee well; Thanks, Burgoyn, for thy honest, faithful service-- Thy lips are hot, my Gertrude:--I have been Much hated, yet have been as much beloved.

May a deserving husband bless my Gertrude, For this warm, glowing heart is formed for love.

Bertha, thy choice is better, thou hadst rather Become the chaste and pious bride of heaven; Oh! haste thee to fulfil thy vows; the goods Of earth are all deceitful; thou may'st learn This lesson from thy queen. No more; farewell, Farewell, farewell, my friends, farewell for ever.

[She turns suddenly from them; all but MELVIL retire at different sides.

SCENE VII.

MARY, MELVIL.

MARY (after the others are all gone).

I have arranged all temporal concerns, And hope to leave the world in debt to none; Melvil, one thought alone there is which binds My troubled soul, nor suffers it to fly Delighted and at liberty to heaven.

MELVIL.

Disclose it to me; ease your bosom, trust Your doubts, your sorrows, to your faithful friend.

MARY.

I see eternity's abyss before me; Soon must I stand before the highest Judge, And have not yet appeased the Holy One.

A priest of my religion is denied me, And I disdain to take the sacrament, The holy, heavenly nourishment, from priests Of a false faith; I die in the belief Of my own church, for that alone can save.