To burn men’s eyes out that beheld God’s face,
That being long blind but now gat sight, and saw
And praised him seeing - I that then spake and said,
Ten thousand men here landed of our foes
Were not so fearful to me on her side
As one mass said in Scotland - that withstood
The man to his face I loved, her father’s son,
Then mastered by the pity of her, and made
Through that good mind not good - who then but I
Was taxed of wrongful will, and for hard heart
Miscalled of men? And now, sirs, if her prayer
Were just and reasonable, and unjust I
That bade shut ears against it - if the mass
Hath brought forth innocent fruit, and in this land
Wherein she came to stablish it again
Hath stablished peace with honour - if in her
It hath been found no seed of shame, and she
That loved and served it seem now in men’s sight
No hateful thing nor fearful - if she stand
Such a queen proven as should prove honourable
The rule of women, and in her that thing
Be shown forth good that was called evil of me,
Blest and not curst - then have I sinned, and they
That would have crossed me would have crossed not God:
Whereof now judge ye. Hath she brought with her
Peace, or a sword? and since her incoming
Hath the land sat in quiet, and the men
Seen rest but for one year? or came not in
Behind her feet, right at her back, and shone
Above her crowned head as a fierier crown,
Death, and about her as a raiment wrapt
Ruin? and where her foot was ever turned
Or her right hand was pointed, hath there fallen
No fire, no cry burst forth of war, no sound
As of a blast blown of an host of men
For summons of destruction? Hath God shown
For sign she had found grace in his sight, and we
For her sake favour, while she hath reigned on us,
One hour of good, one week of rest, one day?
Or hath he sent not for an opposite sign
Dissensions, wars, rumours of wars, and change,
Flight and return of men, terror with power,
Triumph with trembling? Hath one foot stood fast,
One head not bowed, one face not veiled itself,
One hand not hidden? Was this once or twice
That ye beheld, this brief while of her reign,
Strong men one day make mouths at God, the next
Lie where his foes lie fallen? or since she came
Have ye seen raised up of them and cast down
But one or two that served her? Which of these,
Which of them all that looked on her and loved,
And men spake well of them, and pride and hope
Were as their servants - which of all them now
Shall men speak well of? How fared he the first
Hailed of his own friends and elect her lord,
Who gave her kinsmen heart and godless hope
By him to reign in her and wield this land,
Yet once with me took counsel and sought grace,
And suddenly God left him, and he stood
Brain-smitten, with no bride-bed now nor throne
To conquer, but go senseless to his grave,
The broken-witted Hamilton - what end,
Think ye, had this man, or what hope and hap
The next whose name met on men’s lips with hers
And ballads mourned him in his love’s sight slain,
Gordon, that in the dawn of her dark day
Rose northward as a young star fiery red,
Flashed in her face, and fell, for her own breath
Quenched him? What good thing gat they for her sake,
These that desired her, yet were mighty lords,
Great in account of great men? So they twain
Perished; and on men meaner far than these
When this queen looked, how fared they? folk that came
With wiles and songs and sins from oversea,
With harping hands and dancing feet, and made
Music and change of praises in her ear -
White rose out of the south, star out of France,
Light of men’s eyes and love! yea, verily,
Red rose out of the pit, star out of hell,
Fire of men’s eyes and burning! for the first
Was caught as in a chamber snare and fell
Smiling, and died with Farewell, the most fair
And the most cruel princess in the world -
With suchlike psalms go suchlike souls to God
Naked - and in his blood she washed her feet
Who sat and saw men spill it; and this reward
Had this man of his dancing. For the next,
On him ye know what hand was last year laid,
David, the close tongue of the Pope, the hand
That held the key of subtle and secret craft
As of his viol, and tuned all strings of state
With cunning finger; not the foot o’ the king
Before God’s ark when Michal mocked at him
Danced higher than this man’s heart for confidence
To bring from Babylon that ark again
Which he that touches, he shall surely die,
But not the death of Uzzah; for thereon
God’s glory rests not, but the shadow of death,
And dead men’s bones within it: yet his trust
Was to lift up again and to relume
The tabernacle of Moloch, and the star
Of Remphan, figures which our fathers made,
That such as he might go before, and play
On timbrels and on psalteries and on harps,
On cornets and on cymbals; and the Lord
Brake him; and she being wroth at God took thought
How they that saw might call his place of death
The breach of David, and her heart waxed hot
Till she should make a breach upon his foes
As God on him, and with a dire new name
And a new memory quite put out that name
And memory of his slaying; yea, all this land,
That hath seen evil of many men before
And sins of many years, hath seen till now
No sin as hers, nor on her forefathers
Whose hands were red and their hearts hard hath seen
The note of such an evil as in her heart
Became a fire conceiving, and brought forth
The deed that in her hand was as a sword
New tempered in that fire; for no such deed
Was this as all theirs who play false or slay,
Take gifts for whoredom or lay snares to kill,
But she gave gifts to hire her lover’s knife
That it might pierce her husband; even this land,
This earth whereof our living limbs are made,
This land renewed of God, this earth redeemed,
With all souls born therein to worship him
That call it mother, was the hire she gave
To fee the adulterer’s hand when it should rise
Against her lord to slay him; yea, all of you,
And each part of this kingdom, and each man
That but draws breath within her range of reign,
Were parcel of this hire, as counted coins
To make the sum up of her goodly gift.
And he that of their hands was bought and sold,
Her wedded husband, that had bowed his head
Before her worshipped idol - think ye not
That by her hand God gave him all his wage
Who was a less thing in his eyes than she
And viler than her service? for the fire
Fell not from heaven that smote him, yet not less
Was kindled of God’s wrath than of man’s hate
And in a woman’s craft his will put forth
To make her sin his judgment; but of these,
The slain and slayer, the spoiler and the spoiled,
That each have lain down by her wedded side,
Which will ye say hath slept within her bed
A sleep more cursed, and from more evil dreams
Found a worse waking? he that with a blast
Which rent the loud night as a cry from hell
Was blown forth darkling from her sheets, or he
That shared and soiled them till this day whereon
God casts him out upon the track of Cain
To flee for ever with uncleansed red hands
And seek and find not where in the waste world
To hide the wicked writing on his brow
Till God rain death upon him? for his foot,
Be sure, shall find no rest, his eye no sleep,
His head no covert and his heart no hope,
His soul no harbour and his face no light,
But as a hound the wolf that bleeds to death
God’s wrath shall hunt him through the dark, and fear
Shall go before him as a cloud by day,
By night a fire, but comfort not his head
By day with shadow, nor with shine by night
Guide lest his foot be dashed against a stone,
But in fair heaven before the morning’s face
Make his air thick with thunder, and put out
All lamplike eyes of stars that look on him
Till he lie down blind in the dust and die.
Or if God haply give his lightnings charge
They hurt him not, and bid his wind pass by
And the stroke spare him of the bolted cloud,
Then seeing himself cast out of all that live
But not of death accepted, everywhere
An alien soul and shelterless from God,
He shall go mad with hate of his own soul,
Of God and man and life and death, and live
A loathlier life and deadlier than the worm’s
That feeds on death, and when it rots from him
Curse God and die. Such end have these that loved;
And she that was beloved, what end shall she?
What think ye yet would God have done with her,
Who puts her in our hand to smite or spare
That hath done all this wickedness? for these,
What were they but as shadows in the sun
Cast by her passing, or as thoughts that fled
Across her mind of evil, types and signs
Whereby to spell the secret of her soul
Writ by her hand in blood? What power had they,
What sense, what spirit, that was not given of her,
Or what significance or shape of life
Their act or purpose, formless else and void,
Save as her will and present force of her,
Gave breath to them and likeness? None of these
Hath done or suffered evil save for her,
Who was the spring of each man’s deed or doom
And root for each of death, and in his hand
The sword to die by and the sword to slay.
Shall this be left then naked in the world
For him that will to stab our peace to death?
What blood is this drips from the point, what sign,
What scripture is enamelled on the blade?
Lo, this fair steel forged only to divide
This land from truth and cut her soul in twain,
To cleave the cords in sunder that hold fast
Our hope to heaven and tie our trust to God,
Here by the hilt we hold it, and well know
That if we break not, this now blunted edge
Being newly ground and sharpened of men’s hands
That watch if ours will yet loose hold of it
Shall pierce our own hearts through. Ay, be ye sure,
If ye bid murder and adultery live,
They live not stingless; not a Scot that breathes,
No man of you nor woman, but hath part
In each her several sin and punishment
That ye take off from her. But what are these
That with their oaths or arms would fence her round
And hide her from God’s lightnings? Know they not,
- Or if they know not, will ye too be blind? -
What end that Lord who hath bowed so many a head,
So many and mighty, of those her former friends,
Hath power to make of these men? Shall they stand,
Because they have done God service while they would,
And cease to serve him? or their good deeds past
Who served not God as Job forsooth for nought
Sustain their feet from falling? Strength nor craft,
Nor praise nor fear nor faith nor love of men,
Shall be for buckler to them, nor his name
A helm of vantage for the Douglas’ head
If he make stiff against the yoke of God
Too proud a neck, that for the curb cast off
May feel the weight and edge that iron hath,
To check high minds and chasten; nor his wit
Nor subtle tongue shall be for Lethington
But as a pointless and unfeathered shaft
Shot heavenward without hurt, that falls again
In the archer’s eye to pierce it; and his lips
That were so large of mockery when God spake,
By present organ of his works and wrath
And tongueless sound of justice audible,
Shall drink the poison of their words again
And their own mocks consume them; and the mouth
That spat on Christ, now pleading for his foes,
Be stricken dumb as dust. Then shall one say,
Seeing these men also smitten, as ye now
Seeing them that bled before to do her good,
God is not mocked; and ye shall surely know
What men were these and what man he that spake
The things I speak now prophesying, and said
That if ye spare to shed her blood for shame,
For fear or pity of her great name or face,
God shall require of you the innocent blood
Shed for her fair face’ sake, and from your hands
Wring the price forth of her bloodguiltiness.
Nay, for ye know it, nor have I need again
To bring it in your mind if God ere now
Have borne me witness; in that dreary day
When men’s hearts failed them for pure grief and fear
To see the tyranny that was, and rule
Of this queen’s mother, where was no light left
But of the fires wherein his servants died,
I bade those lords that clave in heart to God
And were perplexed with trembling and with tears
Lift up their hearts, and fear not; and they heard
What some now hear no more, the word I spake
Who have been with them, as their own souls know,
In their most extreme danger; Cowper Moor,
Saint Johnston, and the Crags of Edinburgh,
Are recent in my heart; yea, let these know,
That dark and dolorous night wherein all they
With shame and fear were driven forth of this town
Is yet within my mind; and God forbid
That ever I forget it. What, I say,
Was then my exhortation, and what word
Of all God ever promised by my mouth
Is fallen in vain, they live to testify
Of whom not one that then was doomed to death
Is perished in that danger; and their foes,
How many of these hath God before their eyes
Plague-stricken with destruction! lo the thanks
They render him, now to betray his cause
Put in their hands to stablish; even that God’s
That kept them all the darkness through to see
Light, and the way that some now see no more,
But are gone after light of the fen’s fire
And walk askant in slippery ways; but ye
Know if God’s hand have ever when I spake
Writ liar upon me, or with adverse proof
Turned my free speech to shame; for in my lips
He put a word, and knowledge in my heart,
When I was fast bound of his enemies’ hands
An oarsman on their galleys, and beheld
From off the sea whereon I sat in chains
The walls wherein I knew that I there bound
Should one day witness of him; and this pledge
Hath God redeemed not? Nay then, in God’s name,
If that false word fell unfulfilled of mine,
Heed ye not now nor hear me when I say
That for this woman’s sake shall God cut off
The hand that spares her as the hand that shields,
And make their memory who take part with her
As theirs who stood for Baal against the Lord
With Ahab’s daughter; for her reign and end
Shall be like Athaliah’s, as her birth
Was from the womb of Jezebel, that slew
The prophets, and made foul with blood and fire
The same land’s face that now her seed makes foul
With whoredoms and with witchcrafts; yet they say
Peace, where is no peace, while the adulterous blood
Feeds yet with life and sin the murderous heart
That hath brought forth a wonder to the world
And to all time a terror; and this blood
The hands are clean that shed, and they that spare
In God’s just sight spotted as foul as Cain’s.
If then this guilt shall cleave to you or no,
And to your children’s children, for her sake,
Choose ye; for God needs no man that is loth
To serve him, and no word but his own work
To bind and loose their hearts who hear and see
Such things as speak what I lack words to say.
FIRST CITIZEN.
She shall not live.
SECOND CITIZEN.
If by their mouths to-day
She be set free from death, then by our hands
She dies to-morrow.
VOICES IN THE CROWD.
Nay, to fire with her!
Fire for the murderess! cast her bones in the lake!
Burn, burn and drown! She shall not live to-night.
Scene VIII. A Room in the Provost’s House
The Queen, Athol, and Morton
Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne (Illustrated) (Delphi Poets Series) Page 234