It was his testimony which condemned him.
MELVIL.
'Tis true.
CURL.
Oh, curse upon him! Be his soul
Condemned forever! he has borne false witness.
MELVIL.
Think, madam, what you say.
CURL.
I will maintain it
With every sacred oath before the court,
I will repeat it in his very face;
The world shall hear of nothing else. I say
That she dies innocent!
MELVIL..
God grant it true!
[1] The document is now in the British Museum.
SCENE III.
Enter HANNAH KENNEDY.
KENNEDY (to CURL).
Go, madam, and require a cup of wine-
'Tis for our lady.
MELVIL.
Is the queen then sick?
KENNEDY.
She thinks that she is strong; she is deceived
By her heroic courage; she believes
She has no need of nourishment; yet still
A hard and painful task's allotted her.
Her enemies shall not enjoy the triumph;
They shall not say that fear hath blanched her cheeks
When her fatigues have conquered human weakness.
MELVIL.
May I approach her?
KENNEDY.
She will come herself.
SCENE IV.
Enter BURGOYN; two women of the chamber follow him,
weeping, and in deep mourning.
BURGOYN.
Oh, Melvil!
MELVIL.
Oh, Burgoyn!
[They embrace silently.
FIRST WOMAN (to the NURSE).
She chose to be
Alone: she wishes, at this awful moment,
For the last time, to commune with her God.
SCENE V.
Enter MARGARET CURL, bearing a golden cup of wine;
she places it hastily upon the table, and leans,
pale and trembling, against a chair.
MELVIL.
How, madam! What has frightened you?
KENNEDY.
Oh God!
BURGOYN.
Speak, madam!
CURL.
What, alas! have I beheld!
MELVIL.
Come to yourself, and say what you have seen!
CURL.
As I went down the staircase which conducts
To the great hall below, a door stood open;
I looked into the chamber, and I saw-
Oh heaven!
MELVIL.
What saw you?
CURL.
All the walls were hung
With black; a spacious 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 festivaclass="underline" 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
Ignoble 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 ennobled
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.
God 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 noble 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 nobly offered
Himself as my deliverer, my avenger.
They are remembered in my wilclass="underline" 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.