Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne (Illustrated) (Delphi Poets Series)
Page 216
Her best heart in this letter, and would know
How yet your purpose toward Craigmillar bears,
Whether to train him thither by her hand
Or what choice else.
BOTHWELL.
Say, the device is changed
By counsel and consent of whom she wots;
Here must they come; James Balfour and myself
Have waked all night to see things well begun,
For that bond’s sake whereto his hand was set
With mine here at Craigmillar; all things now
Stand apt and fit in this his brother’s house
To entertain the kingship of its guest;
We have seen to it, Maitland with us.
PARIS.
I was sent
From the town hither, finding you set forth,
But why folk wist not.
BOTHWELL.
Carry to my queen
This diamond; say too I would send my heart,
But that she hath already, and no need
To pluck it forth and feel it in her hand.
Bid her be swift as we have been for love,
And the more surety quickens our design:
The rest unsaid shall tarry till she come.
Scene XVI. The Queen’s Lodging in Glasgow
The Queen in bed; Lady Reres and Paris attending
QUEEN.
What was his word at parting? let it kiss
Mine ear again.
PARIS.
Being horsed, he bade me say,
Madam, he would be fain for love of you
To train a pike all his life-days.
QUEEN.
Please God,
It shall not come to that. Ere this month die
That has not half a week to live, we stand
In Edinburgh together. He will go
Without more word or fear; and being well hence -
How looked my love?
PARTS.
Madam, as one uplift
To the height of heart and hope, though full of cares,
And keen in resolution.
QUEEN.
I grow strong
To hear of him. Hath he not heart enough
To fill with blood a hundred of our hearts,
Put force and daring, for the fear cast out,
In all our veins made manlike? Prithee, Reres,
Was he thus ever? had he so great heart
In those dead days, such lordliness of eye
To see and smite and burn in masterdom,
Such fire and iron of design and deed
To serve his purpose and sustain his will?
Hath he not grown since years that knew me not
In light and might and speed of spirit and stroke
To lay swift hand upon his thought, and turn
Its cloud to flame, its shadow to true shape,
Its emptiness to fulness? If in sooth
He was thus always, he should be by now
Hailed the first head of the earth.
LADY RERES.
It cannot be
But in your light he hath waxed, and from your love,
Madam, drawn life and increase; but indeed
His heart seemed ever high and masterful
As of a king unkingdomed, and his eye
As set against the sunrise; such a brow
As craves a crown to do it right, and hand
Made to hold empire swordlike, and a foot
To tread the topless and unfooted hill
Whose light is from the morn of majesty.
QUEEN.
When mine eye first took judgment of his face
It read him for a king born: and his lips
Touching my hand for homage had as ‘twere
Speech without sound in them that bowed my heart
In much more homage to his own. Would God
I could so read now in that heart I serve
What thought of me moves in it, hear what word
Now hangs upon those lips; if now his eye
Darken or lighten toward mine unseen face,
Or his ear hearken for my speech unheard.
Why art thou now not with him, and again
Here the same hour to tell me? I would have
More messengers than minutes that divide
Mine eyes from their desire, to bring me word
With every breath of every change in him,
If he but rest or rise; nay, might it be,
Of every thought or heart-beat that makes up
His inner hours of life: yet by mine own,
If he so loved me, should I know them not?
I will rise now and pass to see how soon
We may set forth to-morrow.
LADY RERES.
Can it be
He shall have strength? but let your highness heed
That pretext be not given for knaves to say
You had no care to wait on his good time,
But vexed and harried him, being sick, with haste
And timeless heat of travel.
QUEEN.
Fear not you:
I will make means to bring him in my hand
As a tame hound, and have his thanks and love
For bringing him so wifelike on his way.
It is the last pain I shall take for him,
The last work I shall do for marriage-sake
And wifehood wellnigh done with duty now.
I have not much more time to serve my lord,
And strife shall fall between us twain no more.
Scene XVII. Darnley’s Chamber in Kirk of Field
Darnley and Nelson
DARNLEY.
Thou hast the keys? This house is strange and chill,
As chill as earth: I have slept no better here.
Those two days that we halted on the way
There at Linlithgow, I could see the haste
That burnt in her to be in Edinburgh,
And here being come she sets me in this grange,
And till her chamber be made ready sleeps
In Holyrood apart, and here by day
Hath still by her that face I warned her from,
That woman’s that I spake of, plays and sings
There in the garden with none else - by God,
I like not aught of it. I am sick again,
Sick-hearted, or my will should be a sword
To sunder them. I would I were away.
I have ill dreams, man.
NELSON.
Please your highness -
DARNLEY.
Ay!
Is majesty gone out of all men’s mouths?
Is my state dead before me, even the name
Dead of my place, then?
NELSON.
There is come from court
Lord Robert Stuart to see your majesty.
DARNLEY.
Let him come in. Robert? he was my friend;
I think he held me dear till David died:
He supped with them that night. I found him once
A quick-souled fellow that would quaff and kiss
The glow of woman’s or of wine-cup’s mouth,
And laugh as mine own lips that loved the like
Can now no more this long time. Let him come.
Enter Robert Stuart
My holy lord of Holyrood-house, good day;
You find a fit man for a ghostly rede.
ROBERT STUART.
I am glad you have a jest yet; but I come
On graver foot than jesters run, my lord.
DARNLEY.
How, graver than your ghostly name? nay, then,
’Tis matter for a grave-side.
ROBERT STUART.
Sir, it may:
I would be secret with you.
DARNLEY.
What, alone?
Why should we talk alone? what secret? why?
ROBERT STUART.
I will put off
my sword and give it your man,
If that will ease you.
DARNLEY.
Ease me? what, by God,
You think I fear you come to kill me? tush,
I am not the fool - and were that all, being thus,
‘Faith, you might end me with your naked hands.
Leave us.
Exit Nelson.
What is it? you make me not afraid -
Sir, I fear no man - what, for God’s sake speak,
I am not moved - in God’s name let me have it.
ROBERT STUART.
I came to do you such good service, sir,
As none has done you better nor can do.
There is an old phrase in men’s mouths of one
That stands between the devil and the deep sea;
So now stand you; the man that toward a reef
Drives naked on a thunder-stricken wreck
And helmless, hath not half your cause of fear;
The wretch that drops plague-eaten limb from limb
Crumbles to death not half so fast as you:
The grave expects not the new-shrouded man
More surely than your corpse now coffinless.
DARNLEY.
Who put this in your mouth? what enemy?
How have you heart, or whosoe’er he be,
Albeit ye hate me as the worm of hell
Who never harmed you in my hapless days,
To use me so? I am sick -
ROBERT STUART.
Ay, sick to death,
If you give ear not to me that am come
In very mercy, seeing I called you friend,
For pity’s sake to save you, or at least
To stretch your days out for some brief span more
Of life now death-devoted.
DARNLEY.
What, so soon?
God would not have it done, so young I am, -
What have I done that he should give me up?
So comfortless, - who hath no help of man,
They say, hath God’s; God help me! for God knows
There is none living hath less help of man.
Nay, and he must, as I have faith in God,
Hang all my hope upon him, - For God’s sake,
Whence got you this?
ROBERT STUART.
No matter.
DARNLEY.
At whose hand -
O me, what hand! who is it shall touch me?
ROBERT STUART.
Hark.
From beneath is heard the Queen’s voice, singing
Qui se fie
À la vie
À vau-l’eau va vers la mort;
Et que l’onde
Rie ou gronde,
Elle entraîne loin du port.
DARNLEY.
She sings I know not what - a jesting song,
A French court rhyme no graver than a flower,
Fruitless of sense - this is no threat - a toy -
QUEEN from beneath, sings.
Sur l’opale
Du flot pâle
Tremble un peu de jour encor;
Sur la plage
Au naufrage
Le haut vent sonne du cor.
DARNLEY.
What is it she sings now? nay, what boots to hear?
I will not hear; speak to me - pray you, speak.
QUEEN from beneath.
La mort passe
Comme en chasse,
Et la foudre aboie aux cieux;
L’air frissonne,
La mer tonne,
Le port se dérobe aux yeux.
Plus d’étoile
Que ne voile
L’orage âpre au souffle noir;
Pas de brise
Qui ne brise
Quelque vaisseau sans espoir.
Noire et nue
Sous la nue,
La nef brisée à moitié
Tourne et vire
Où l’attire
La sombre mer sans pitié.
La nuit passe,
Et la chasse
S’est éteinte au fond des cieux;
Mais l’aurore
Pleure encore
Sur les morts qu’ont vus ses yeux.
Ce qui tombe
Dans la tombe
Coule et s’en va sans retour;
Quand sous l’ombre
Plonge et sombre
Ou la vie ou bien l’amour.
ROBERT STUART.
Why do you shake and hide your eyes? take heart;
Let fear not be more swift to slay than hate.
DARNLEY.
I said, what hand - you bade me hearken - well,
What say you now she sings not?
ROBERT STUART.
I have said.
DARNLEY.
I will not be your baiting-stock; speak plain;
Whence had you word of any plot on me?
ROBERT STUART.
If you will heed me, well; if not, for me
I will take heed yet that it be not ill.
Weigh how you will my counsel, I am sure
If my word now lie lightly in your ear
It would not lie the heavier for my oath
Or any proof’s assurance. Whence I had
This word you have of me, I am not bound
To put the knowledge into trust of you
Who trust not me in asking.
DARNLEY.
What, I knew
There was no plot but yours to scare me, none -
Your plot to get my favour, stay yourself
On me as on a staff - affright me sick
With bloodred masks of words and painted plots,
And so take hold upon me afterward
Having my strength again and state and power -
A worthy friend and timely, - Nay, but, nay,
I meant not so - I am half distraught - I meant
I know you for my friend indeed and true;
For one thwart word in sickness cast not off
Your friend that puts his trust in you, your friend
That was nigh mad a minute, being sore sick
And weak and full of pain and fear, and hath
No friend to help and bear with him if you
Will help nor bear not - by my faith and life
I do believe you love me, and in love
Came, and in faith to me - if I believe not
God give me death at once and hell to boot.
I pray you pardon.
ROBERT STUART.
Sir, your faith and life
Have neither weight enough to poise an oath
As now they hang in balance. If you will,
Take to your heart my words; if not, be sure
It shall not grieve me though you trust me not,
Who never think to give you counsel more.
Exit.
DARNLEY.
Nay, but one word - how would you have me fly?
He goes and mocks me - would my hands had strength
To dig his heart out for my dogs to feed!
He flies and leaves me weaponless alone
In the eye of peril, coward and false heart -
Should not the tongue be false too? If he came
To affright me only with a fearful face,
Blow but a blast of danger in mine ear,
And make my faith as wax that in his breath
Might melt and be reshapen of his hands -
Nay, I will see the queen, and in her eye
Read if his tongue spake truth, and from her lips
Draw forth his witness; if she mean me ill
I cannot now but see it. Nelson! - She hath
No trick to keep her from mine instant sight,
Knows not his errand to me; and at once
I take her unawares and catch her soul
Naked, her mind plain to me, good or ill.
QUEEN sings from below.
Lord Love went Maying
Where Time
was playing,
In light hands weighing
Light hearts with sad;
Crowned king with peasant,
Pale past with present,
Harsh hours with pleasant,
Good hopes with bad;
Nor dreamed how fleeter
Than Time’s swift metre,
O’er all things sweeter
How clothed with power,
The murderess maiden
Mistrust walks laden
With red fruit ruined and dead white flower.
DARNLEY.
What sting is in that song to smite my heart
And make the blood and breath come short in me?
O God, I know it - his last year’s song of death -
They struck it on his lips who struck him through.
Nelson! I will not see her - I will not die -
Enter the Queen
QUEEN.
I heard your call from under and came in -
What ails you, sir? why stare you thus askance?
DARNLEY.
I had a pang of sickness that passed by
While you were singing.
QUEEN.
Is my brother gone?
DARNLEY.
There was none here - your brother? what, the earl?
Doth not his wife lie at St. Andrew’s sick,
Where he is gone to visit her?
QUEEN.
For love,
Why will you lie to me in jest? you know
Here was my brother Robert.
DARNLEY.
Ay, but now -
I did not say he was not here but now.
QUEEN.
Has he not moved you?
DARNLEY.
Why should I be moved?
I am not lightly shaken of men’s breath;
What think you that he came to move me for?
QUEEN.
In faith, I guess not.
DARNLEY.
Nay, though I be weak,
I am no reed yet for him to blow and make
What music of me shall best please his mouth.
QUEEN.
I think you are not, but for all winds blown