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 208

by Algernon Charles Swinburne


  For pardon and possession of their will;

  And for your kingship - sir, assure yourself

  That in few hours it shall be seen and sure

  You shall need never seek their loves again

  Or hands to help you to it or tongues to cry,

  Nor be called king by will of any man

  Nor lord by choice of any friend on earth.

  DARNLEY.

  Nay, I would need no voices.

  QUEEN.

  And be sure

  You shall not build your power on loves of theirs

  Nor live by their election. Go, and thrive:

  Think how my faith and hope and love in you

  Find all their rest and stronghold, and on them

  Set up your trust and standard of your strength.

  Exit Darnley.

  So much is done; go thou then first to death;

  For from this hour I have thee. Heart, lie still,

  Till I may make those mightier traitors mine

  That shall be swords for me to smite him with,

  And then be free as fire.

  Enter Mary Beaton

  Hast thou no news?

  MARY BEATON.

  The lord of Bothwell lies at secret ward

  To bear you forth of peril here by force;

  He has gathered up his men beyond the walls

  To break this guard upon you when you will,

  If at your suit it shall not be withdrawn;

  Here is his token brought me privily

  For your own hand.

  QUEEN.

  No, in my heart it is,

  My love and lord, thy token; this poor heart

  That ere mine ear is smitten with thy name

  Hears it and turns to springing fire. What thanks

  Would I not rather pay than these of words

  For this thy loving speed? Yet send him these,

  And bid him, I would fain say come, but wait

  Till I have tried my traitors; if my tongue

  Win them to slack their hold on me to-night,

  We may speed surelier; if their hands hold fast,

  Then let him smite and slay and set me free.

  I would have all their heads here in my lap,

  Tell him, not one or two slain suddenly,

  That their blood shed may seem not spilt by chance

  Nor lost and won in hazard of affray

  But sacrificed by judgment, and their names

  Who would have made of royalty in me

  Ruin, and marred the general name of king,

  Shall with their lives be perfectly put out,

  Royally ruined; wherefore if I may

  I will steal forth with subtle help of words,

  Not break their bonds with violence; in which hope

  Bid him watch close.

  Exit Mary Beaton.

  And when his watch is done

  It will be morning, and the sun shall break

  As fire for them that had their hour by night

  And light for wrath to see them and to slay.

  Re-enter Arthur Erskine, introducing Murray

  ARTHUR ERSKINE.

  Madam, my lord of Murray.

  QUEEN.

  Ah, my brother,

  Had you been here they had not used me thus.

  MURRAY.

  I am sorry, madam, such things should be done

  As even the strain of sharp necessity

  Can make but fierce and bitter.

  QUEEN.

  Is this all?

  Nay, it was necessary then and just,

  Or I must seem and strive to think it was,

  If you say so. But in my present sight,

  Now when a feather’s or a flower’s weight borne

  Might make life stoop within me, sense break down,

  All strong capacities of nature fail;

  Now when the hardest heart with iron bound

  Might turn to very mercy for my sake,

  Here in mine eye to do my friend to death -

  For howsoe’er ye hold him, yet being dead

  I will not say but he was friend of mine

  Who lies now dead and slaughtered - nay, by heaven,

  I will not cast that name of friend away

  Because the man my friend is slain for me -

  I say, to kill him at my knee, to stain

  An unborn child’s brow with his murdered blood,

  To affray with sanguine hands, shake with sheer blows,

  The weak and holy warders of the womb,

  The reverence and remembrance of us all

  For that which bare us hidden before birth

  And after was called mother - O, this deed,

  This, though all law were cast out of the world,

  All grace forgotten - this, you will not say

  But they did ill who did it. What, you weep?

  These tears are made of our dear father’s blood,

  Who left in each of us such part of him

  As must yearn each toward other, and divide

  At need their mutual suffering: I knew well

  I need not fear to find not in your heart

  Some natural seed of comfort.

  MURRAY.

  That I weep

  I take no shame, to see you; but mine eyes

  Receive more comfort than their tears can give

  To see, for all this rash and ruthless night,

  Yet you stand up unwounded, and your heart

  Is left you to put spirit in your speech

  Not like a sick man’s; if you have no hurt,

  No hurt is done though they did violently:

  For this man’s life was as a present death

  To the well-being and peace of all your state,

  Which by the force of justice done on him

  Stands now in surety. I would pray you make

  Your profit of your pain herein, being wise,

  As you well may; for this was not the man

  That you saw slain, but the man’s policy,

  Stabbed through with all their daggers; and you see

  How it lies dead and outcast. I beseech you,

  For your own love and honour of high rule,

  Set not your heart toward it to raise it up

  That men would bury, lest the graveyard reek

  Of dead men’s craft and strange men’s creeds brought back

  Prove poison to you.

  QUEEN.

  I will do what men will.

  I must not die then?

  MURRAY.

  There are those would have it,

  For scandal and offence cast on the realm

  By shame done to the popular commonwealth

  In majesty made shameful; as they say

  Through you it hath been, and your dealings known

  With this dead friend; some that would leave you life

  Spake of life spent in sharp imprisonment

  Unto your death’s day; but by mine award

  You are quit of either danger; you must live

  But under guard till you by word approve

  This man’s despatch for necessary and just,

  Submit yourself to call your husband king,

  And own the true faith rooted in this realm

  For lawful and for sovereign here of rule.

  So much you shall.

  QUEEN.

  Nay, I will more than this.

  I will seal now what you will have me seal,

  What bond soever: let them come to me

  Who wrought this murderous matter but last night

  That I may sign their pardon with my tongue

  Ere they can crave or threaten. Let them come;

  So shall my perfect purpose be more plain

  Freely in all things to submit myself -

  I have your word already - to their will:

  Ay, even with all my new submissive heart,

  As else I cannot choose; for what am I

/>   That I should think much to submit myself?

  MURRAY.

  You shall do wisely to keep faith with them

  And make your word your action’s measure; so

  Shall hearts now loosened from you be made fast

  And love reclaimed wait on you loyally

  Through all your land’s length. See, the lords are come.

  Enter Darnley, Morton, and Ruthven

  QUEEN.

  Good morrow, sirs; ye gave me no good night,

  Yet are you welcome even as life or death

  Were welcome to me, coming with your will;

  For without love of my good lords my life

  Were scarce worth holding out against their will,

  But if it please them I should die not yet,

  For their love’s sake I give it welcome. Sirs,

  I have heard what terms ye lay upon mine head,

  And bow beneath them willingly, being sure

  It is but meet I should submit myself,

  It is but fit mere majesty bow down

  To take the burden by good men and wise

  Imposed upon it; nor shall this be hard;

  For what ye did so suddenly and swift,

  If there be power of pardon in me, here

  With as good heart even as ye did the deed

  Do I forgive it; nay, I should give you thanks

  That ye vouchsafe of me to be forgiven;

  For what am I among you? Let the bond

  Be drawn between us presently to sign,

  While for an hour’s space I will walk and wait

  Here with my noble brother, hand in hand,

  And heart reposed on heart, eyes answering eyes,

  With pure plain faith; for what now in the world

  Should lies or dumb dissembling profit me

  Though I were natural liar? as I do trust

  Ye shall not find me but most faithful; yet,

  If I were falser than the foam of the sea

  And wilfuller than wind, what should I do,

  Being yours, to mock you and myself, and lie

  Against mine own life? for ye see me, sirs,

  How I stand bare between you, without strength,

  At your mere mercy, with no friend on earth

  If ye will be mine unfriends; and I think

  To live but by your grace and leave, who might

  If ye were minded speak me out of life

  Or sign me dead with smiling; I were mad

  To play with lies, who feel your hands on me

  So heavy as they are, and have no hope

  Save to be pitied and believed of you.

  I pray you then have faith in me, who live

  In your faith only, and if it fail me here

  Must die the lowliest death in all the world,

  And no man’s hand to help me.

  DARNLEY.

  She says truth;

  There is no hand.

  MORTON.

  Madam, though faith stand fast,

  Yet fear hath something here to say of you,

  And wisdom to remember; we must think

  That what is done in service of yourself

  You cannot hold good service when it comes

  So masked in bloods, so vizarded like death,

  As this of ours doth; and that yet in time

  You may find mean to wreak your wrath on us

  For having strangely served you, and perforce

  Given desperation and the dangerous time

  So desperate a deliverance from despair.

  We have saved you in this service done the state,

  Who must have else been broken in the breach

  Of the state’s order and the popular law

  By this man living violently misused;

  But cannot hope yet for such thanks of you

  As even the deed deserves whose fierce despatch

  Has shaken you with thunder, and its flame

  Still makes your eyes blind to the good work done

  And sharp need felt of it; so must this be,

  And so must we take heed lest being yet blind

  We give you scope and mean to hurt yourself.

  QUEEN.

  I did not think the thing was yet alive

  That could fear me.

  DARNLEY.

  Nay, look you, she says right;

  We have no room to fear her.

  QUEEN.

  Lo, my lords,

  How dangerous and how strong a thing it is

  That threatens here your state and safety; see,

  It is no less than woman, and unarmed,

  Half dead, unfriended, hard on childbearing,

  Naked of arms or means; it were not wise

  To leave unguarded, without spies or swords

  About her path, so great a danger; yea,

  Wise men would rather fear her force too much

  Than good men show compassion. Do your wills;

  I am well content to know you wise, and so

  To bear what hard or lighter weight ye please;

  How sore soever, God knows, I believe

  It shall not long afflict me.

  MURRAY.

  In my mind,

  It now shall less distract the general eye

  With apprehension of strange times and strife

  To see the ways again made clear, and gates

  Not crowded up with guard.

  DARNLEY.

  Why, so I said.

  RUTHVEN.

  So I say not. Bear with me though I seem

  Less confident or free of heart than men,

  Whose minds are gentle as their names, should be

  In things of common care; what hurt may come

  By fault of us we know not, but we know

  It is no private peril; if we err,

  Not we nor ours must only ache for it,

  But the whole popular heart of this great land

  Must bleed and break for our false friendship shown

  And confident remission of our cause

  And very duty toward her, through mere wish

  To be called gentle toward her enemies.

  QUEEN.

  I am her enemy then: where lies my strength?

  What field? what weapon? how shall we make war,

  Take truce and break it, with what equal face

  Stand brow to brow for battle? By this hand,

  I knew not yet how strong it was, nor worth

  How many hands of swordsmen; were this true,

  I might wax proud to be so terrible,

  Seeing in such great men’s eyes so great a fear

  And only mine own fearful face therein

  As in a mirror shadowed.

  DARNLEY.

  ’Tis mere truth;

  We should be shamed to seem in fear of her,

  Yea, made a mockery in men’s eyes and mouths

  For base and blind misgiving.

  RUTHVEN.

  You, my lords

  And equals with me in the proof of years,

  In the age of counsel and experience borne

  Of common service done our natural state,

  Shall best pass judgment if in hate or fear

  I speak for mine own ends or enmities

  To turn your hearts from honour; for the queen,

  As she shall be toward God, so I toward her

  Would be fast friend and servant; but wherein

  She is not friend with heaven nor with the state

  I were no friend to serve her, nor to say

  There were no danger and no sin to serve.

  Ye must all think I think not to live long;

  And being so signed of sickness for my grave

  With such a mortal seal, I speak alive

  As one being dead that speaketh; if ye lose

  The grace of God here won by your own hands,

  The power ye have to serve him, and the effect

  Of his good hour, through
negligence of will

  Or pride or pity, ye shall see the state

  Break from your hands, and for one devil cast out

  Seven entered in its body. Sirs, take heed;

  The least thing lightly overlooked or done

  May undo all things wrought. Keep fast your guards;

  By the king’s counsel if they be withdrawn,

  Upon his head that bade them go shall rest

  What bloodshed ever follows; yet in time

  Think nothing weak that is not with us; each

  May have some sting or weapon of itself

  That till sloth feel it sees not.

  QUEEN.

  A wise rule:

  So should the wary wolf pen up the lambs,

  The falcon set good guard upon the wren,

  For fear of teeth or talons.

  MURRAY.

  We will give

  To the king’s hand the bond for yours to sign;

  Meantime all ease and reverence shall you have,

  And freedom for your household folk to serve

  As best your need may bid them.

  QUEEN.

  Sirs, farewell.

  I will not pray you do but what ye will,

  Which shall seem wisely to me. - Let me have

  Word of their instant sentence.

  Aside to Darnley.

  DARNLEY aside.

  With all speed.

  Exeunt Darnley, Murray, Morton, and Ruthven.

  QUEEN.

  Where are my servants Standen and Traquair?

  ARTHUR ERSKINE.

  At hand to serve your highness.

  QUEEN.

  Ah, to serve!

  My highness is brought low, too low to claim

  Service of men; if I may find but love

  Or only pity of any, this shall be

  All utmost service I desire of them.

  I have but my sorrows to my subjects left,

  And these rebellious; yet I keep what state

  And rule I may upon them. Tell those twain

  I pray their patience lend me but the time

  To hear what I would have them, and to choose

  If they will do it for pity.

  ARTHUR ERSKINE.

  Think them here

  And your will done already.

  Exit.

  QUEEN.

  Yea, my will!

  What knowest thou may my will be? by this light,

 

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