Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne (Illustrated) (Delphi Poets Series)

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Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne (Illustrated) (Delphi Poets Series) Page 203

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Yet when this thing is through and this plague purged

  There stands a thorn yet in our way to prick -

  The loose weak-witted half-souled boy called king.

  JOHN KNOX.

  It is of him I am bidden speak with her,

  Having but now rebuked him backsliding

  In God’s sight and his name. It may be yet,

  Whether by foolishness and envious heart

  Or by some nobler touch left in his blood,

  Some pulse of spirit that beats to a tune more high

  Than base men set their hearts by, he will turn

  Helpful to Godward, serviceable in soul

  To good men’s ends in hate of that they hate:

  I cannot say; howbeit I fear not much

  Her love of him will keep him fast to her;

  If he be drawn in bonds after her wheels,

  It will be but of subtle soul and craft

  The cords are woven that hold him. But, for me,

  Love they or hate, my way is clear with them;

  Not for her sake nor his sake shall our Lord

  Change counsel and turn backward; and save his

  What will or wit I have to speak or live

  He knows who made it little for myself,

  But for him great; and be you well assured

  Love of their love nor doubt of their dislike

  Hath upon me more power than upon God.

  For now I have seen him strive these divers years

  With spirits of men and minds exorbitant,

  Souls made as iron and their face as flame

  Full hard and hot against him, and their wits

  Most serpent-strong and swift, sudden of thought

  And overflowing of counsel, and their hands

  Full of their fortune, and their hearts made large

  To hold increase of all prosperities;

  And all these are not, and I poor man am,

  Because he hath taken and set me on his side

  And not where these were; I am content alone

  To keep mine own heart in his secret sight

  Naked and clean, well knowing that no man born

  Shall do me scathe but he hath bidden him do,

  Nor I speak word but as he hath set it me.

  FIRST CITIZEN.

  Goes he to Holyrood?

  SECOND CITIZEN.

  Ay, sir, by noon.

  FIRST CITIZEN.

  There is a kindling trouble in the air;

  The sun is halting toward the top of day;

  It will be shine or rain before he come.

  OCHILTREE.

  What ails this folk to hover at our heel

  And hang their eyes on you so heedfully?

  JOHN KNOX.

  They should be naturally disquieted

  Seeing what new wind makes white the wave o’ the time

  We ride on out of harbour. Sirs, ye have heard

  News of your scathe and of shame done to God,

  And the displeasure bites you by the heart,

  I doubt not, if your hearts be godly given;

  Make your souls strong in patience; let your wrath

  Be rather as iron than as fuel in fire,

  Tempered and not consumed; heat that burns out

  Leaves the hearth chillier for the flameless ash

  Than ere the wood was kindled.

  FIRST CITIZEN.

  Master Knox,

  You know us whereto we would and by what way;

  This too much patience burns our cheeks with shame

  That our hands are not redder than our face

  With slaying of manslayers who spill blood of faith

  And pierce the heart of naked holiness;

  It is far gone in rumour how the queen

  Will set on high and feed on gold that man

  Who was a scourge laid long since on the saints,

  The archbishop of St. Andrew’s, and perforce,

  Dyed as he stands in grain with innocent blood,

  Will make him mightier for our scathe and shame

  Than ere the kindly people of the word

  Had made him bare of bad authority.

  SECOND CITIZEN.

  Likewise she hath given her seal imperial

  To a lewd man and a stranger, her own knave,

  Vile, and a papist; that with harp and song

  Makes her way smoother toward the pit of hell.

  JOHN KNOX.

  What needs us count and cast offences up

  That all we know of, how all these have one head,

  The hateful head of unstanched misbelief?

  For sins are sin-begotten, and their seed

  Bred of itself and singly procreative;

  Nor is God served with setting this to this

  For evil evidence of several shame,

  That one may say, Lo now, so many are they;

  But if one seeing with God-illumined eyes

  In his full face the encountering face of sin

  Smite once the one high-fronted head and slay,

  His will we call good service. For myself,

  If ye will make a counsellor of me,

  I bid you set your hearts against one thing

  To burn it up, and keep your hearts on fire,

  Not seeking here a sign and there a sign,

  Nor curious of all casual sufferances,

  But steadfast to the undoing of that thing done

  Whereof ye know the being, however it be,

  And all the doing abominable of God.

  Who questions with a snake if the snake sting?

  Who reasons of the lightning if it burn?

  While these things are, deadly will these things be;

  And so the curse that comes of cursed faith.

  FIRST CITIZEN.

  It is well said.

  SECOND CITIZEN.

  Ay, and well done were well.

  THIRD CITIZEN.

  We have borne too long for God, we that are men,

  Who hath time to bear with evil if he would,

  Having for life’s length even eternity;

  But we that have but half our life to live,

  Whose half of days is swallowed of their nights,

  We take on us this lame long-suffering,

  To sit more still and patienter than God,

  As though we had space to doubt in, and long time

  For temperate, quiet, and questionable pause.

  FIRST CITIZEN.

  Let the time com -

  SECOND CITIZEN.

  Nay, we must make the time,

  Bid the day bring forth to us the fruit we would,

  Or else fare fruitless forth.

  THIRD CITIZEN.

  It is nigh noon;

  There will be shine and rain and shine ere night.

  Scene III. Holyrood

  The Queen and Rizzio; Mary Seyton and Mary Carmichael in attendance

  QUEEN.

  Is he so tender-tongued? it is his fear

  That plucks the fang out from his hate, and makes

  A stingless snake of his malignant heart;

  He hath a mind, or had he a mind at all,

  Would have a mind to mischief; but his will

  Is a dumb devil.

  RIZZIO.

  Why, fear then and no love

  Will make faith in him out of falsehood’s self,

  And keep him constant through unstableness.

  QUEEN.

  Fear that makes faith may break faith; and a fool

  Is but in folly stable. I cannot tell

  If he indeed fear these men more than me;

  Or if he slip their collar, whether or no

  He will be firm on my side, as you say,

  Through very lightness; but I think not of him,

  Steadfast or slippery. Would I had been that day

  Handless, when I made one his hand with mine!

  Yet it seemed best. I am spirit-sick and faint

  Wi
th shame of his foul follies and loathed life,

  Which hath no part but lewdness of a man,

  Nor style of soul nor several quality,

  Dividing men from men, and man from beast,

  By working heart or complement of brain -

  None, very none. I will not see him to-night.

  I have given command to ensure our privacy.

  Is it past noon?

  Enter Darnley and Mary Beaton

  DARNLEY.

  You say she hath asked for me?

  MARY BEATON.

  Ay, and complainingly, as though her love

  Were struck at by your absence.

  DARNLEY.

  Love! her love!

  It were a cunning stroke should print a wound

  In that which hath no substance, and no spirit

  To feel the hurt. Well, I will speak to her.

  QUEEN.

  How like a chidden bondman of his lord

  Looks my lord now! Come you from penance, sir?

  Has the kirk put you to no private shame

  Besides the public tongue of broad rebuke?

  We are blessed in your penitence; it is

  A gracious promise for you.

  DARNLEY.

  Penitence?

  QUEEN.

  You have a tender faith and quick remorse

  That will bear buffets easily; pray God

  It pluck you absolution from their hands

  Who are godly sparing of it. We have heard

  A priest of theirs cast for incontinence

  Hardly with thrice purgation of his shame

  Redeemed himself to kirkward.

  DARNLEY.

  I hear nought.

  QUEEN.

  Nay, but you hear when these rebuke you of sin

  In the full face and popular ear of men;

  You hear them surely, and patiently you hear,

  And it shows in you godliness and grace

  Praiseworthy from them; for myself, my lord,

  I have some foolish petulances in me

  And stings of pride that shut me out from grace

  So sought and bought of such men; but your course

  May teach me timelier humble-mindedness

  And patience to get favour: which till now

  I have never needed beg, and now should prove

  A very witless beggar. Teach me words,

  Pray you, to move men’s minds with; such great men’s

  As your submission purchases to be

  Good friends and patrons to you; for I fear

  Your Knox is not my friend yet.

  DARNLEY.

  So I think.

  Madam, I know not what you make of me,

  Nor if your jest be seasonable or no;

  I am no fool nor implement of theirs,

  Nor patienter of their irreverences

  Than the queen’s self; if you endure such tongues,

  Why, I may bear them.

  QUEEN.

  Well and patiently;

  I praise your manhood’s temper for it, and am

  The happier for your royalty of spirit

  That will not feel wrong done of baser men

  To be at all wrong done you.

  DARNLEY.

  Will you think it?

  Well then, I am so, I am just your thought,

  You read me right, and this our friend reads too,

  For I am plain and easy to read right.

  QUEEN.

  Have you made time to say so?

  DARNLEY.

  Ay, and this,

  That it mislikes me - it gives me discontent

  That men should -

  QUEEN.

  Ay? that men should - anything -

  Bear themselves manlike, or that men should be,

  It is offence done openly to you?

  DARNLEY.

  Nay, not offence, nor open; nought it is,

  Or to me nought.

  QUEEN.

  Nought as I think indeed.

  You were about to chide us? well it is

  You have so humble a wife of us and true,

  To make your chidings fruitful, that your words

  Bear and bring forth good seed of bettering change.

  I pray you, when you chide me, that you make

  Your stripes the gentler for my humbleness.

  DARNLEY.

  I have no mind to jest and jape, and will -

  And will not wrangle with you.

  QUEEN.

  Will, and will not?

  They say a woman’s will is made like that,

  But your will yet is wilfuller than ours.

  DARNLEY.

  Not as I think.

  QUEEN.

  God better the king’s thought,

  And mind more tyrannous than is his place!

  DARNLEY.

  If I be king -

  QUEEN.

  And I be kingdomless,

  And place be no place, and distinction die

  Between the crown and curch - Well, on, our lord.

  DARNLEY.

  Why am I out of counsel with you? Whence

  Am I made show of for a titular fool

  And have no hand in enterprise of yours,

  Nor tongue, nor presence? Not alone my name

  That is rubbed out and grated off your gold,

  But myself plucked out of your register,

  Made light account of, held as nothingness,

  Might move me -

  QUEEN.

  Whither?

  DARNLEY.

  To some show of wrath

  More than complaint, if I were minded ill.

  Here is a breach made with the English queen,

  Our cousin of England, a wide-open breach,

  A great-grown quarrel, and I no part of it,

  Not named or known of.

  QUEEN.

  You are the happier man

  Heavenward, if blessed be the peaceable.

  DARNLEY.

  The happier heavenward, being the worldlier shamed;

  The less I like it. You have suddenly cast forth

  A man her servant and ambassador,

  With graceless haste and instance, from the realm,

  On barren charge of bare complicity

  With men now banished and in English bounds,

  But not attaint of treason toward us yet

  Nor deadly doomed of justice.

  QUEEN.

  Not attaint?

  Give not your spirit trouble for that; the act

  Is drawn by this against them, and the estates

  Need but give warrant to their forfeiture

  Now it has passed the lords of the articles;

  Take no care for it; though it be sweet in you

  And gracious, to show care of your worst foes

  You have on earth; that would have driven you forth

  A shameful rebel to your cousin queen

  And naked of our foreign favour here

  That clothed you with unnatural royalty

  And not your proper purple. Forth; you say

  I have done this wrong?

  DARNLEY.

  I do not say you have done

  Wise work nor unwise; but howbeit, I say

  I had no part in aught of it, nor knew

  With what a spur’s prick you provoked her spleen

  Who is not stingless to requite it you,

  Nor with what scant of reason.

  QUEEN.

  ’Tis sad truth,

  She shows no less disquiet mind than yours

  Nor a less loud displeasure; she was kind,

  She says, well-willed to meward, but my sins,

  Unkindliness, and soul’s obduracy,

  Have made her soft heart hard; and for this fault

  She will not ever counsel me again,

  Nor cease to comfort my dear brother’s need

  With gold and good compassion: and I have

  Eve
n such a sister as brother of her as him,

  And love alike and am like loved of them.

  He wills me well, she swears, as she herself,

  And, I’ll re-swear it, she wills as well as he.

  DARNLEY.

  Ay, we know whence this well-spring of your will

  Takes head and current; who must have brave wars

  We know, fair field, broad booty to sweep up,

  Space to win spurs in; and what English gold

  Must after battle gild his heels with them,

  When he shall stand up in my father’s stead

  Lieutenant-general for you of the realm:

  And who must have your brother’s lands we know,

  Investiture must have, and chancellorship,

  And masterdom in council. Here he stands,

  A worthy witness to it; do you look on me?

  Is it not you must be the golden sir,

  The counsel-keeper, the sole tongue of the head,

  The general man, the goodly? Did you send

  Lord Bothwell hard at heel of him cast forth

  To make his wrong sweet with sweet-spoken words,

  And temper the sharp taste of outrage done

  And heat in him of anger, with false breath?

  Why made you not your own tongue tunable

  Who are native to soft speaking, and who hate

  With as good heart as any Scot that hates

  England? or is her messenger your fool

  To take blows from you and good words alike

  As it shall chance him cross your morning mood

  Angry or kindly?

  QUEEN.

  Sir, our chancellor,

  We charge you that you answer not the duke.

  DARNLEY.

  Duke?

  QUEEN.

  Ay, the duke of Rothsay; whom we pray

  Seek otherwhere some seemlier talking-stock

  To flush his hot and feverish wit upon.

  DARNLEY.

  Your chancellor? why went not such a man

  With you before the lords of the articles

  Now, an hour back, and yet but half day through,

  To help you speak the banished lords to death?

  Is’t not the heart of the office, to see law

  Punish law’s traitors, as you bid them be

 

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