^^9 A' ^. o vV ■^ O c ° " " . «.' vO r. I HEIVRY THE FIFTH. An Historical Play. In Five Acts. By *- William Shakespeare. Price 15 cents. DE WITT'S HALF-DIME MUSI OF THE BEST SONGS FOR VOICE AND PIANO. ^HIS SE^iilES of first class Songs contains if Words and Music {with the Piano accompanimeni of the. most choice and exquisite Pieces, hy the mo, able, gifted and most popular composers. It contain every style of good Music^from the solemn an pathetic to the light and humorous. In brief, thi collection is a complete Musical Library in itself, both of Yoca AND Piano-Forte Music. It is printed from new, clear, distinc elegant Music Type, on fine white paper, made expressly fo this Series, and is published at the low price of Five Cents. Remember, Each Number contains a Complete Piece c Music, beautifully printed on Sheet Music Paper. Any Twenty Pieces mailed on receipt of One Dollar, postage paid. ZW PLEASE ORDEB. BY THE NUMBERS. =©& Address, E. M. DE WITT, Putlisher, 33 Hose Street, J^". 2 SENTIMENTAL SONGS AND BALLADS. yo. Composer. 3. La-rer's Letter-B«»:i Wrighton. B. Xhy Vsice is IVcar WriffhtoD. e. Blae-E^ed Violets Jackson. 8. The niaidcn and Her K^inmet. Montgomery. 14. S«.ft I>e-w is Sleeping Bmker. «C. When the Roses Blovr Allen. SS. Reautiful Rells Conte. St. Tha Mather's Dream Sullivan. «3. My Spirit Star Young. as. Little JUagglm May Blampliin. aC Th» Vagnband Molloy. 31. My Heart is O'er the Sea. .Clai'lbel. 3a. Maggie's ■*VeIc»me Claribel. 35. nreaming at IWellle Hogett. 37. Five O'CIock in the Morning, Claribel. 39. She Cams anil Vanished I.ika a Dream Boucher. 4*. Meet Me in the Lane Blampliin. 43. Tapping at the Carden Cate. 45. Sleeping on Cuard WriglitOD. 4T. Summer Devr Barker. 49. Oh, My Lost Love Plumpton. ST. S». CI. ca. «3. C4. cs. "7 a. Compose' Far Away Bliai Jess Macfarlane Tunke Yes, I'll Meet Thee. Dearest. Blamphli Hattie Bell Webste: 'Whisper '•Yes," or ••IVo," Lave " Allele. Her Bright Smile Hauats M< Still Wrightoo Oh. Cast that Shadow from Th; Brow Tuckei Lave mot Blockley She '^Vore a liVreath of Roses. Knigl.t Pretty Little Dark Eyes Parker YVhen we -wreat a Gleaning. Ganz Mary of Argyle Nelson AVhat Did Little Birdie Say? Balfe, Sing, Birdie. Sing Oanz. Spring-Time of Life Jackson. IVightingale's Trill Oanz. 1^" Allow me to direct your atten- tion to the fact that I have just pub- Ushecl a COMPLETE EDITION of BULWER^S DRAMATIC WORKS, mitahle for the Library, in one volume, ioth, gold lettered, price One Dollar and ^ifty Cents. DeWitt's Acting Edition Bulwer's Plays; being iie complete Dramatic Works of Lord Lytton (Sir Idward Lytton Bulwer, Bart.), comiDnsing "The Lady f Lvons;" "Money;" "Riciicliou;" "The Rightful feirj'' "Walpolc;" ''"Not So Bad As We Seem;" " TJie jicliess de la Vallierre." From the author's original xt. An entirely new Acting Edition. By John M. INGDOII. ROBERT M. DE WITT, Publisher, 33 Rose Street, N. T. Noiv Ready, — Tennyson's Great Play. QUEEN IJLRY, Properly prepared for the Stage. The ily Acting Edition in the market. Price 30 Ceuts, inga double Number (ISl and 182) of De Witt's AcT- G Plays. %^- Be sure to order " De Witt's Acting P]dition " above plays. ROBERT M. DE WITT, Publisher, 33 Bose Street, K 7 QUEEN MAKY. BY ALFRED TEXNYSON. THE ONLY UNMUTILATED EDITION- ABBANGED FOB THE STAGE IN FOUR ACTS. WITH FULL STAGE DIRECTIONS, ACCUEATELY MARKED— CAST OF CHAEACTEES — SYNOPSIS OF SCENERY — DESCRIPTION OF COSTUMES— BILL FOE PBO- GEAMMES — STOEY OF THE PLAY, AND THE PORTIONS OF THE PLAY TO BE OMITTED IN REPRESENTATION VERY CARE- FULLY MARKED WITH INVERTED COMMAS. i EDITED By JOHN M. KINGDOM, Aulhoro/" Tlie Tliree Princes" " Marcoretli" " The Fountain of Beauty," " Giraldn, " 27ie Old Ferry House," " Madeline," " The Three Musketeers," " A Life's Vengeance," etc., etc. NEW YORK: - '" ROBERT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER No. 33 Rose Street. (BETWEEN DUANB AND FBANEFOBT STBEETS.) Copyright, 1875, by Bobert M. De Witt. If- .9-} Ki' Qri Kjr siAHY. CHABACTiiRS. Philip (King of Naples and Sicily, afterwards King of Spain.) Beginald Pole (Cousin to Queen Mary, a Cardinal, and the Pope's Legate to Eng- land.) Simon Benard (Ambassador from Spain.) iiE SiEUB DE NoAiLLES (Ambassador from France.) Thomas Crammer (Archbishop of Canterbury.) Stephen Gardiner (Bishop of Winchester and Lord High Chancellor of England.) Sir Nicholas Heath (Archbishop of York and afterwards Lord High Chancellor, in succession to Gardiner.) Edward Courtenay (Earl of Devon.) LoBD William Howard (afterwards Lord Howard and Lord High Admiral of the English fleet.) Sib Thomas Wyatt > ^ ^. ■, , , ,n _ > (Insurrectionary Leaders.) Sir Thomas Staffoed > Sib Balph Bage.nhall (a staunch Protestant Gentleman and Member of Parlia- ment.) Sib Egbert Southwell (an English Gentleman.) Sir Henby Bedingfield (a blunt, honest Gentleman, having the custody, for a time, of the Princess Elizabeth, and/a«ora6Je to her cause.) Two of Wyatt's Men. A Pbisoner. *Edmi'nd Bonner (Bishop of London.) 'Thomas Thiklby (Bishop of Ely.) SiB William Cecii. (an Adherent to the cause of Elizabeth.) Sir Thomas White (Lord Mayor of London ) , „ J (Insurrectionists and Adherents of Wyatt.) Anthony Knyvett ) The Codnt de Febia (in attendance upon King Philip.) Peteb Martyr. Father Bourne (a Catholic Priest.) Loud Willi a. ms, of Thame. Lord Paget ) „ .. . „ . Lord Petre \ *^"^^'^'^ Noblemen.) Peters (a Gentleman in attendance upon Lord Howard.) EoGEB (Servant to the French Ambassador.) William (Servant to Sir Thomas Wyatt.) •Father Colk \ ♦Villa Garcia \ (Supporters of the Poiw.) *SOTO ) Stewabd of the Household of Princess Elizabeth. Old Nokes and Nokes (two Citizens.) Fibst, Second Third, Foubth and Fifth Citizens. FiBST, Second and Thibd Gentlemen *The Duke of Alva (in attendance on Philip.) Mary (Daughter of King Henry the Eighth by his wife Katharine of Aragon, aok Queen of England.) The Princess Elizabeth (her Half-Sister— Daughter of King Henry the Eighth by his wife Anne Boleyn.) MARCHioNEas OF Exeter (Mother of Courtenay, Earl of Devon.) Lady Clarence }■,,■■„,■,■ ^ ^^ ^ T T,, 1^ t (Ladies in Waiting to the Queen.) Lady Magdalen Dacres y o ~« » Alice (One of the Queen's Attendants.) Maid of Honor to the Princess Elizabeth. Joan and Tib (two country Women.) QUEKN MART. d Lords and Attendants, Members of Parliament, Gentlemen, Citizens, male and fe- male, Pages, Halberdiers, Trumpeters, Guards, Javelinmen, Banner Bearers, Ushers, Messengers, Archers, Aldermen, Councillors, etc., etc., etc. Ladies of the Court, etc. Those character marked thus 'i' do not appear in the acting portioni PERIOD— 1553 TO 1558. The Scene is laid in London and the vicinity, the County of Kent, the City of Ox- ford, and Woodstook, in the County of Oxford. TIME IN REPRESENTATION-ABOUT THREE HOURS AND A HALF. SGFNERY. ACT I.— Scene 1. — Aldgate, richly decorated. The flats set in the last grooves re- present the old-fashioned style of houses— stores on the ground level and each floor above projecting beyond the underneath one ; small latticed windows. The wings represent similar kind of houses ; the windows are all open and persons looking out, and from the windows and tops of the houses are flags and banners of all kinds, and garlands of flowers crossing the street. A massive old-fashioned archway or gate- way is placed across, in a slanting direction, from the left side of tlie flat l. u e., with heavy wooden gates, bound with iron, swung open. The upper part of the archway is deiiorated profusely with flags, etc. Murmurs and the ringing of bells should be heard just before the curtain rises. Scene 2.— A Room in Lambeth Palace. A plain oaken wainscotted apartment, aet in the 2d grooves. Sce.ne 3.— St. Paul's Cross. The flats set in the 4th grooves represent a partially open space with the outlines of a few ancient houses in the distance. In the centre at the back is a stone cross of ten or twelve feet height, mounted on a pedestal of three steps ; near it, opposite r. 3 e., a low antique oaken pulpit and reading desk — approached by a winding staircase on the side facmg the audience. Scene 4. — London. A Room in the Palace. Richly gilt panelling set in the 2d grooves. Doorway in the centre, hung with curtains fringed with gold. iScene 5.— A Room in the Palace. The flats set in the 4th grooves represent a richly decorated apartment with gilt panellings, painting, etc. Richly gilded ta- bles near k. and l. 3 e. ; cliairs and footstools, covered with crimson velvet, and gilded, on either side of the table. Doorway in the centre opening on to a handsomely or- namented gallery. Heavy velvet curtains to the doorway, festooned up with gold cords and tassels, and tringed with gold. A CT II.— Scene '< . — AUington Castle. The flats set in the 2d grooves represent the intwior of a richly carved oak chamber, with gilded panels and portraits of armed men. A portion of an antique bookcase shown l. ; antique oaken table and chair, R. 2 E., with writing materials and papers upon it. A large latticed window in the centre, opening on to a low balcony. (Scene 2.— Guildhall, in the city of London. A massive stone chamber with groined roof. The flats set in the 4th grooves represent one side of the hall, with long, latticed windows between the springing of each rib or groin of the roof. Oaken doors with massive brass hinges, and ornaments in the centre. A raised platform, covered with scarlet cloth, approached by two steps, near r. 3 e. (this can be pushed on as the scene opens). Upon the platform is a heavy built chair of Btate, with velvet and gold trappings, and over it a velvet canopy fringed with gold —the royal arms are fixed on the lianging drapery behind the chair. t QUEEN MAKT. Scene 3 —London Bridge, The flats in the 2d grooves represent an old-fashioned wooden house with low roof, etc., intended to denote the gate house of the bridge beyond which appears the river Thames and the battlements of the Tower upon the opposite bank. Scene 4. — Room in the Gatehouse of Westminster Palace. An antique chamber oak panelling, richly carved and gilded— Gothic window in the centre, opening on to a balcony beyond. Antique chairs with crimson velvet r. and l. of window. ACT 111.— Scene 1.— A Street in the City of London. The flats set in the 4th grooves represent houses and shops of a similar description to those shown in the first scene of Act I. L. 1 e., the entrance to the house, appears to be supported by rude pillars.* Scene 2.— Room in "Whitehall Palace. The flats represent the side of a richly decorated chamber. Folding doors, c, d. ; paintings on walls. Scene 3.— The Great Hall in Whitehall. The flats in the back, set in the upper grooves, represent a richly gilded panelled oak chamber, hung with tapestry. In the centre adaia or raised platform, carpeted richly, with three state chairs upon it, richly gilded, two under one canopy, for Philip and Mary, another a little distance off, for Cardinal Pole. The royal arms on the tapestry behind the chairs. A tribune or reading desk, slightly raised, near it. Seats b. and l., for the Spiritual and Temporal Lords, and cross seats for the Members of the House of Commons. A line of approach, kept clear, in the centre, carpeted. Doors k. and l. u. e. The sides of the scene are closed in, so as to represent two other sides of the chamber correspond- ing with that shown on the flats. Dais and Canopy. B. u. E, Door. • . State Chairs — Tribune. • . . . . Carpeted way -a ' -2 t Tl -^ u • '^ u * ^ . i 1 3 . d S o z! : . • • i-j 9 •3 a ^ . o re : ^ M . rxi p i .* \ Door, L. u. E. l. 4 1 L. 2 K. L. Is. Scene 4.— The Porch Of St. Mary's Church, Oxford, and Street adjoining. Set in 2d grooves ; the wings, r., represent projecting stone pillars with the base jutting out, so as to allow a person to sit upon it. *This scene in the original work, as will be observed by the text, is described a'i the Conduit in Grace Church, with a painting of the Nine Worthies, a religious sub- ject, which strongly excites the wrath of Gardiner; but, as this portion of the scene is (iniitted in representation it is sufficient for stage purposes topliiee it as one of the old streets of the city. QUEKN MAKY. O Scene 5. — ^Woodstock. The Apartment of the PniNCKSS Elisabeth. The flats are circuhir, with open windows on to the gardens, beautifuily laid out, and fountains, vases, statuary, etc., represented in the distance. Richly gilded tables and chairs r. and L. 3 E., and a couch b., near table. The windows r. and l. are closed, the one ia the centre is a larger one and open. Rich green silk and lace curtains, etc. This scene may, with good taste on the part of the scenic artist, be rendered one of the prettiest and most attractive in the play. It may, if desired, terminate the Act, and ihe next scene be omitted. Scene 6.— Room in the Palace. The same as Scene 5, Act I. ; set in the 2d grooves, with gallery beyond. ACT IV.— Scene 1.— London. Hall in the Palace. Oaken wainscotting witU gilded panels ; portraits, etc. ; set in 2d grooves. Archways l. and r. 2 e. Scene 2.— A Room in the Palace. Set in the 4th grooves. Large latticed window in recess, c; a richly gilded table, c, chairs r. and l., and footstools; a couch li. and L., upon the one, n., lays a rich Indian shawl. Scene 3.— Apartment in a House near London. A plain oak panelled apartment, set in 2l1 grooves, behind which the next scene can be placed in readiness. &«)!« 4.— Before the Palace. The flats set in the 2d grooves represent one of the stone wings of the building, with gothic windows; blinds down, lights seen through them. Scene 5.— A Room in the Palace. Set in the last grooves. Large windows, through which the moonlight falls— every now and then varying, as though clouds were passing over it. Table, c, and heavy cover with gold fringe ; massive candela- bra and lights, writing materials and chairs r. and l. A portrait of Kino Philip in armor, is suspended r. 3 e. A gallery runs across from L. u, b. to B. U. e. The roof is supported by pillars. COSTUMES. Philip.— ls< Dress : A rich velvet doublet of royal purple color, trimmed with gold ; a mantle of a similar color lined with satin ; dark trunk hose, hat, and feather ; sword, and various orders. Act III., Scene 3 : A rich suit of black velvet, with glittering insignia and the orders of the Golden Fleece and of the Garter. After this the other dress is resumed. Reginald Pole.— 1s« Dress : Dark velvet doublet ; trunk hose ; shoes ; short man- tle, lined with crimson satin ; collar ; hat and feather. 2d Dress : A scarlet cas- sock ; crimson hat with tassels ; red stockings, and richly embroidered shoes. Simon Renard. — A tight-fitting suit of black velvet, with black low-crowned hat, and feather ; shoes ; deep white collar ; gold chain round the neck, and the badge of the order of the Toison d'Or suspended on his breast ; short velvet cloak; sword; dark complexion, beard, nnd pointed mustaches. (Always cool, stern, and impassive, with a searching Rlance.) liE SiEUB DE NoAiLLES.—Doubletof dark-blue satin, and similar colored trunk hose ; shoes ; sword ; hat and feather ; short cloalc lined with yellow silk. Crammer.— A scarlet simar (or gown) and surplice, with fine white lawn sleeves, and a low black hat, and shoes. Gardiner. — A rich simar, with surplice, and fine lawn sleeves; black hat; shoes, etc 2d Dress, as CUanccllor : A scarlet robe, opened before, and purpled with minever, and decorated with gold embroidery. Sir Nicholas Hrath.— 1s< Dress : A plain colored simar (or gown), with surplice ; fine white lawn sleeves; black hat; shoes, etc. 2a Dress, as Chancellor: Same as Gabdinrb's. CoUKTENAV. — Blue velvet doublet embroidered with gold ; trunk hose ; shoes with rosettes ; low circular hat, and feather ; sword ; short mantle lined with white satin ; lace ruffles and collars. 2d Dress : A plain suit of pufi'ed or ribbed ar- mor, with head-piece arid plume, removing it on entering the Uueen's presence. 6 QUREN MAUY. ' LiOKD Howard. — A rich doublet of dark blue velvet, lined ■with amber silk, and em- broidered with gold; blue trunk hose; high shoes; rosettes; sword, and low hat with feather. Sir Thomas Wyatt. — \st Dress : Doublet of dark-colored cloth : trunk hose; shoes; mantle. 2d Dress: Breast-plate; thigh-pieces, and armlets of polished steel ; a low-crowned hat, .ind feather ; gauntlets ; sword, and dagger. Anthony Knyvett.— Plain leathern doublet and trunks, with back and breast- plates of steel ; armlets ; hat, feather, and sword. Captain Brett. — A similar dresa. Sib Ralph BAGENHALL.^Plain chocolate-colored cloth doublet; trunk hose, with short cloak, ruffles, hat and feather, shoes, and sword. Sir Thomas Stafford. — A plain black dress of the same styie. Sir Robert Southwell. — A similar dress. Sib Henry Bedingfield. — Doublet, jacket, and trunk hose of black velvet, with short trunk of same matei-ial ; hat and feather, sword, and heavy boots. (He is described by the chroniclers as a grave-looking, dignitiod person, somewhat stricken in years.) Sir "William Cecil. — Dark crimson velvet doublet and mantle lined with white satin and embroidered with gold; trunk hose; hat and feather ; shoes ; sword. Sir Thomas White. — Gown of crimson velvet, with gold chain of office and insignia and the collar of S. S. (see Plancbe's British Costume, 1847) ; white silk hose, and shoes. Count de Feria. — A similar dress to Philip's, but of a plainer and more sober kind. Peter Martyr. — A plain priest's dress, with sandals and low black hat. Father Bourne. — Plain priest's dress of black serge, fastened with a cord round the wai.st ; cowl thrown back ; shaved crown ; rosary and cross ; sandals. LiOBDS Williams, Paget, and Petre. — Similar dresses to Codrtenay's, but varied in quality and color. Queen Mary. — Is Dress : Robe of violet-colored velvet furred with powdered ermine, and as a headdress a caul of cloth of tinsel of gold set with pearls, and above that a circlet of gold and precious stones. 2d Dress : A rich velvet dress, embroidered, with tight-fitting sleeves to the elbow, and lacft beyond. A tight- fitting cap over the head, and lace collar. The headdress is occasionally varied by a Mary Uueen of Scots' bonnet. 5d Dress : Rich white satin dress.with green velvet mantle trimmed with ermine and gold, and a Mary Uueen of Scots' bon- net studded with precious stones. Act III., Scene 3 : A rich black velvet dress and train trimmed with ermine; bonnet burdened with je^wels; order of the Garter and various other decorations. Act IV. : A plain black velvet dress, with rosary, etc. ; plain Mary Stuart cap, with pearls, and, in the last Scene, the hair slightly dishevelled and the countenance pale, haggard, and careworn. Pbincess Elizabeth. — \sl Dress : A similar dress to the Q.ueen'8, but not of so rich a description. 2d Dress: Rich damask silk dress, cut square at the neck, with long hanging sleeves ; a Mary Stuart headdress, with necklace, etc. Tlie dress may be varied at will afterwards, and, in Act IV., accompanied by a furred green mantle. Lady Clarence and Lady Magdalen Dacres. — Rich satin dresses, embroidered ; loose sleeves ; lace undei sleeves, with open dresses to the waist, and habit shirts ; Mary Stuart caps. ^AiD OF Honor to Princess Elizabeth, — A similar dresH,but a naixture of green and white, the Tudor colors. Marchioness of Exeter.— A similar dress, but of a dark, sober-colored velvet ; Queen of Scots' bonnet, and furred mantle. Alicf.— A light colored satin dress, with open bodice, and partlett or undershirt ; hanging sleeves, and lace undersleeves ; hair curled, and, in Act IV., a richly- gilded dagger knife in her girdle. It is considered necessary to give only the costumes of the leading characters in detail. It would be needlessly lengthening the work so to give those of all the re- QUKEN MAKY. 7 maining personages. They can very easily be formed from the following condensed extracts from vaiioiis standard works upon the subject, and by such means con- structed as near to the truthful representation of the several characters as the re- sources of each particular theatre will admit. Where an elaborate representation is attempted every requisite particular will be found in the works of Hall, Holbein, Lodge, Harding, Charles Knight, Strutt, and J E. Planche. In many respects there was not much difference in costume in Mary's reign to that in the two previous reigns of Edward the Sixth and Henry the Eighth; in some instances, however, alterations arose. The headdresses assumed a different character, having long lappets or ear-pieces hanging down below the shoulders stud- ded with pearls, jewels, and gold. Three-cornered caps of minever were also worn, and the close-tittiug cap reaching to the ears and known as " Mary (iueen of Scots' cap." The dress of the middle ranks was very varied ; plain russet coats and white kersey sloppes or breeches, with stockings of the same piece, were the ordinary suit ; and the apprentices in London wore blue cloaks in summer and gowns of a like material in winter. The women wore sheep, russet, or long woollen gowns, worsted kirtles, after- wards called petticoats, and white caps and aprons, with white underlinen. The principal novelty of Mary's reign was the flat round bonnet or cap, of plain velvet or cloth, worn on one side of the head and decorated with a jewel and single ostrich feather. The gowns of the wealthier classes were furred with sables in front and round the broad sleeves. Philip, on his marriage with Mary, brought into England a richer style of dress for the men ; particularly the close ruff and the doublet which fitted exactly under the chin, and the short Spanish cloak, all of which remained for a considerable time in fashion. The large stocks, or trunk hose, continued to be worn, but broad-toed shoes were discarded. The entire female dress was worn very close, so as to conceal the person as much as possible. The gown was frequently cut square at the bosom, but instead of the neck being bare it was covered almost to the throat by the part- lett, a sort of habit shirt, embroidered with gold and silver and silk. The sleeves were frequently of a different material and generally of richer stuff. Sometimes the gown was open in front to the waist, showing the kirtle or petticoat, and with or without a train. As regards the armor of Mary's reign, there was little alteration from that previ- ously in existence. The morion came into use. Brigandine jackets were worn by the archers, with steel skull caps ; the pikemeu and javelinmen wore back and breast-plates, with tassels gorgets, gauntlets, and steel hats ; black billmen, or hal- berdiers, who wore the armor called Almain rivet, and morions or sallets ; an huque- butiers similarly appointed. The raised armor was much worn, the ground being very frequently kept black and the pattern raised about the tenth of an inch and polished. Puffed and ribbed armor, in imitation of the slashed dresses of the day, was also occasionally used, the breast-plate rising to an edge down the centre, called the tapul, and later altered so as to present a salient angle in the centre, and a head-piece called a coursing hat, with a mentonniere or lower part that guarded the chin and throat, as well as the vizor, which turned upon the same sfcrew. One or more feathers were also fre- quently attached to the head-piece. Over the doublet of the nobles was worn the jacket, somet mes called the jerkin, the coat, or the gown ; a doublet jacket and hose of blue velvet cut upon cloth of gold, embroidered, and a doublet hose and jacket of purple velvet, embroidered and cut upon cloth of gold and lined with black satin, being particularly mentioned. The suite of the French Ambassador, Du Noailles, were gayly dressed in pour- points of white damask, barred with gold ; short mantles of crimson velvet, lined with violet taffeta and carnation-colored haut-de-chausses; hats, feathers, and swords. The suite of Simon Renard were all habited in tight-fitting suits of black velvet, entirely without ornament ; hats, feathers, swords, mantles, and t-hoes, with black rosettes. Of the civic authorities the o£S.cer bearing the mace before him 8 QUEEN MART. ■with crossed arms wore a dark-blue gown and three-cornered eap, ■whilst another, ■wearing a similar gown, with a short uprigiit fur eap, carried tlie heavy gilded sword of state ; tlie slieriffa wearing scarlet cloaks and ornamental chains of office over their shoulders ; the aldermen, plain scarlet cloaks. The Pages were dressed in silken doublets of various colors, short velvet cloaks, lined with silk or satin ; silk or velvet trunk hose, and shoes with rosettes. The Tkdmpeteks and Maushalmen wore scarlet coats with broad cuffs, and more or less embroidered with silver and gold, according to their rank ; and the Usheks were dressed in suits of various colors, but generally black, and carried white wand^ whilst the Messengers arriving with news of the revolt wore leathern doublets and trunks, with back and breast plates, gauntlets and steel hats. The Spiritual. Peers were dressed in the ordinary dresses of the priesthood; simars or gowns, with surplices, etc., and mitres, and the Tempobal, Peers in the varied colored costumes of noblemen. It may also be mentioned with regard to the Halberdiers, that on great occasions they were elegantly dressed in stripped hose of black and tawny color, velvet caps, decked at the sidcj with roses, with doublets ol murrey and blue clotk, embroidered at the front and back with gold. J. M. K. FROFERTIES. ACT I. — Scent 1: Banners and flags of various colors and devices; garlands of flowers and various decorations ; pikes, lances, staves, crossbows, halberts, etc., for the Guards. Scene 3: Slips of paper with writing on; swords for Citizens; u loug-bladed knife; stones. Scene i: Gilded tables, chairs and footstools ; a jewelled miniature ; a rich gold neck chain ; large letter. A CT II. — Scene 1 : Antique oak table and chair, with writing materials and papers ; rich-looking portfolio ; written sheet of paper, for Ksyvktt. Scene!: Chair of state ; canopy supports ; pikes, etc., for Guards. Scene 3 : Written paper, for Wyatt's man. Scene 4 : Antique chairs with crimson velvet ; pikes, for Guards. ACT 111.— Scene 1 : Javelins; wands for Officers, etc., and for Gardiner's attend- ants. Scene Z: Three chairs of slate ; canopy; benches covered with crimson cloth, etc. ; carpeting; large written parchment roll, for Gardiner. Scene b: Gilded chairs, tables and couch; diamond ring, for Elizabeth. ACT IV. — Scene 2: Gilded tables and chairs; footstools and couch; rich Indian shawl; slips of paper, written upon. Scene b: Rich table and heavy cover with gold fringe; massive candelabra and lights, writing materials; gilded chairs ; portrait of Philip in armor, to suspend against the wall ; belt knife or dagger. It is not deemed necessary to give here more than the principal properties needed : no two theatres will mount the stage alike, and the minor details may be gathered from the text of the play and the general instructions as to costumes. QUEKN MAKY. STOET OF THE FLAY AND RE3IAEKS. Ki:-G Hekry the Eighth of England, bj' his marriage with Katharineof Aragon, the widow of his brother Arthur, to whom she was married but a few months, had issue only one child, Mary, whose career as a sovereign forms the basis of the play. After a married life of eighteen years, Henry, growing tired of his wife's attractions, sought for new ones, and, having found them .in tlie person of Anne Boleyn, the daughter of a gentleman of distinction and related to most of the nobility, the next step was to realize the possession of them. The beauty of Anne Boleyn is reported to have surpassed all that had hitherto appeared at court ; her education, ■which had been conducted at Paris, tended to increase lier personal charms ; her features were regular, mild and attractive ; her stature elegant, whilst her wit and vivacity ex- ceeded even her other allurements. It is not surprising, therefore, that a man of such an amorous nature as Henry, was deeply smiUeu with these irresistible charms at the very first interview. The difficulty was, how to get rid of his wife and be- come the owner of so much beauty, for, in spite of his high jjosition, ho found An- ne Boleyn was proof against any approaches except under the sanctil y of marriage. There was no alternative, therefore, but to obtain a divorce, and for this purpose he put it publicly forth that his conscience rebuked him at last for having lived so many years with his brother's wife, and he deemed it only just and proper that their connection should be severed. For this purpose ho sought to obtain from Pope Clement the Seventh a release from his marriage vows ; but not obtaining this so speedily as he expected, on the contrary, receiving great opposition, he applied to his favorite and chief minister, Cardinal Wolsey, for support, but here again he waa doomed to be disappointed. Wolsey was plUced in an awkward position: if he should assert that the mai-riage was not illegal, but, on the contrary, held good, at the same time that he pleased the Pope, who so viewed it, he would displease the King, who would speedily revenge himself by depriving him of his enormous ■wealth, high rank and great power ; and, upon the other hand, if he supported the King he would offend the Pope most greviously, and subject himself to severe pun- ishment ; he, therefore, resolved strenuously to keep neutral, and pretended the most extreme deference for the opinion of Campegio, the Pope's nuncio or ambassador, who was then in England in regard to the proposed divoico ; thus endeavoring to shift all the responsibility from his own shoulders. But Henry saw through the ar- tifice and silently and surely determined to overthrow it ; accordingly he looked about for a man who could be moulded to his wishes, possessing equal abilities and less art than Wolsey, and accident threw in his way Thomas Cranmer. Matters were very soon arranged to meet the King's desires. Wolsey was deposed, Uis enormous and wealthy property and possessions confiscated, an indictment for high treason lodged against him, upon which he would undoubtedly have been found guilty and executed had not the proceedings been put an end to by his death at Leicester Abbey, upon his journey to London to take his trial. With his decease Henry severed his connection with the churcli of Home. Katharine w is divorced ; Cranmer himself pronouncing the sentence, fur which he was raised (o the position of royal chaplain by the King, but excommunicated by the Pope. By this decree declaring the marriage null and void on account of its being within the prohibited degrees of relationship, the Princess Mary was prouo^jnced a bastard. As soon as this was accomplished Henry married Anne Boleyn, but he very soon tired of her charms, languishing for the possession of the Lady Jane Seymour, one of her maids of honor, and he very easily found means and ready hands to assist in carrying out his designs. Accusations of infidelity were made against the Queen, which speedily resulted in her trial, conviction and execution, and the King's marriage with Jane Sey- mour the very next day after. There was only one child by his marriage with Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth, whom Henry caused to he bastardized the same as Mary, by or- dering the Parliament to give him a decree of divorce between the passing of the sentence upon, and the execution of, the unfortunate Queen. Thus, then, we know the origin of the two leading ladies in the play and tlie meaning of the oon- 10 QUEKN MAUY. versation between the citizens in the opening scene, as also the bitter hatred of Mary for Cranmcr, which only terminated with his destruction at the stake. Upon Henry's death he was succeeded by his only son, Edward, but nine years of age, who died after a brief reign of seven years. Previous to his death he was in- duced by the artifice and scheming of the Duke of Northumberland and other pow- erful noblemen, to nominate as his successor to the crown, the Lady Jane Grey, the daughter of the Duke of Suffolk, a young lady of surpassing beauty, who was married to Lord Guildford Dudley, the fourth son of Northumberland. But her accession met with the most violent opposition from Mary and her partisans. Mary had led .a life of great seclusion and restraint, and consequently became reserved and gloomy ; even during the life of her father she maintained her sentiments with vigor and reso- lution, refusing to comply with tlie forms and requirements of his new mode of relig- ion, after severing with the Pope. Her zeal grew with her years, and at times render- ed her almost furious, so that .she became not only blindly attached to her I'eligious opinions, but even to the popish clergy who maintained them. On the other hand, the Lady Jane Grey was strongly and devotedly attached to the principles of the reformed religion, its followers and upholders, and it is stated upon undoubted authority that, though but sixteen, her judgment had attained such a degree of maturity as few have been found to possess ; indeed, all historians agree that the solidity of her understanding, improved by constant application, caused her to be considered the wonder of the age. To a great extent she was ignoraut, however, of all the transactions that were being conducted in her favor, and was struck with grief and surprise when she was made acquainted with them, and it was with the greatest possible trouble that her father and father-ia-Iaw induced her to yield to their plans for accession to the throne. Orders were promptly given to proclaim her through- out the kingdom, but they were very loosely obeyed, and it is recorded that, when the proclamation was made in the City of London, there were few signs of pleasure or applause. It now became necessary for Mary and her supporters to act promptly and boldly. Upon the king's death she had retired to Kenning Hall, in the County of Norfolk, but the progress of Lady Jane Grey and her party called her from her retirement and roused her to action. She sent circular letters to all the'great towns and nobili- ty in the kingdom, reminding them of her right, and commanding them to xiroclaim her without delay. These circulars had the desired effect, and in a very short time she found herself able to reckon upon the support of between forty and fifty thousand men, while the small number who were following the Northumberland party be- came alarmed and irresolute, their leaders even fearing to lead them to an encoun- ter. Finding, therefore, that the cause was lost. Lady Jane Grey, alter a brief reign of ten days, resigned the crown and retired into seclusion. Northumberland, a!so finding affiiirs were getting desperate, and that it was impossible to stem the tide of popular opposition, attempted to quit the kingdom, but he was prevented doing so by a band of pensioner guards, who informed him that he must stay to jus- tify their conduct in being led out against their lawtul sovereign. Being tlius com- pletely hemmed in on every side, he was compelled to run the risky chance of clem- ency, which he failed to receive ; he delivered himself up to Mary and was soon after- wards executed in a very summary manner. Lady Jane Grey and her husband, Lord Guildford Dudley, were arrested, tried and found guilty, but Mary delayed, for the present, the execution of the sentence. She now entered London, and with vtry lit- tle effusion of blood, saw herself joyfully proclaimed and peaceably settled on the throne. At least, presumably so, although, as the dialogue of the opening and fol- lowing scenes show, there was some degree of mistrust and a disturbed and uncer- tain feeling as to her positive right to the crown, with indications of the revolution about to take place in religious matters and observances The drama opens with the state procession of tiie new queen through the city, accompanied by her sister Elizabeth, on a journey to tlie Tower of London, to release, with others, Courtenay, Earl of Devon, a young nobleman of good birth and handsome bearing, and whom it was much desired by the Council and people she should marry. QUEF.X 11A1:Y. 11 Immediately nt'tcr reaching the throne, AI;iiy determinad to give back to the clergy their lonncr jjower, and thus to involve the country in a repetition of the horrors from winch it had only just emerged. Amongst the eminent clergymen who had suffered for the Catholic cause during the reign of Henry, by line or imprisonment, or confiscation of their estates, were Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, and Sir Nicholas Heath, the Archbishop of York. These, with others, were taken from prison, reinstati'd in their high eccle- siastical positions, and the sentences passed upon them repealed ; indeed, further patronage and power was bestowed upon tliem, G irdmer being raised to the dig- nity of Lord Chancellor. The next step was to get rid of some of those perso:.3 who were deemed rank heretics, and foremost among these was Cranmer, now Archbishop of Canterbury. It was not at all probable that Mary could fail to bear an ill feeling towards the man who had pronounced her mother's mairiage null and void, and herself illegitimate, and one of her first acts is to cause his arrest, which occurs at Lambeth Palace, the London residence of the primate of the English church. Cranmer's humility, firmness and dignity when all the other bishops are fiyiiig from the country to avoid arrest, are very finely expressed in the second scene. In spite of the earnest entreaties of his faithful friend, Peter Martyr, who hurriedly seeks him to bid him fly and save his life before it is too late, he declines to do 80. There are still some faithful clergymen left who nobly stand their around, and with them he is determined to abide. Fervently and grandly he exclaims: " Step after step. Thro* many voices crying right and left. Have I climb'd back into the primal cliurch. And stand within the porch, and Christ with me ; My flight were such a .scandal to the faith, The downfall of so many simple souls I dare not leave my post." Peter Martyr bids him a last farewell and escapes just as tlie guards arrive to ar- rest Cranmer and conduct him to the Tower, from which place he was ultimately taken and tried, and burnt at the stake, in the city of Oxford. Mary's moroseness and bigotry gradually grow warmer and fiercer, and the feel- ing against popery is increased by a proposed alliance with Philip, Prince of Spain, a son of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, who makes him king of Naples and Sicily in order that he may be of equal rank with Mary. To many of the nobility and people this strong popish alliance is extremely distasteful, and this feeling is much fostered and promoted by the French ambassador, the Sieur de Noailles, who sees that if he can only breed confusion among the people and lead to an outbrealc and the dethronement of Mary, good must result to France, for wiiich purpose he causes to be distributed about various papers suggesting the confinement, nay, even the executioa of Elizabeth, and others proclaiming her and praising her as Queen of England, liy this double action, so artfully arranged, he rouses, or hopes to rouse, the feelings of both parties, the Princess Elizabeth being a great favorite with the people. He even broaches the subject to the Earl of Devon, who consents to at- tend a meeting at his house, though not without some misgivings of safety in so doing. But Courtenay has another object in view, or rather double otiject ; he is of opiuioji. that he is a handsomer man than Philip, and even aspires to the Ciueen's hai.d ; ehe has pardoned him once and raised him in rank, and being of good birth, believes she has a liking for him ; rumor, however, has it that he made an offer and was rejected, consequently he turns his attention to the Princess Elizabeth, to whom he takes an opportunity of revealing his affection, and even pointing out a plan by which, with the assistance of the French king and many of the leading noblemen and gentlemen, some of whom are sojourning in France, she might be made queen. This point af- fords an opportunity for some very neat lines, and shows the Princess in true wo- manly instinct and longings, but guarding herself against any cunning or crafty policy which may lead her into danger and arouse Mary's suspicion and anger. Mary comes unexpectedly upon them and believes they are leaguing themselves together to prevent her marriiige with Philip ; she determines therefore to remove her sistei- 12 QUEEN MAUT. from the palace, and, summoning Gardiner to her cotincil, arranges that the Prin- cess shall be sent into tlie country under the pretence ot pursuing her studies. Elizabeth receives the order not without tear and misgiving that harm to her ia intended; but her uncle^ Lord William Howard, assures her that nothing of the kind dare be attempted so lon;^ as he holds the position as commander ot the Eng- lish fleet. The ensuing scene introduces us more fully to Mary, wlio, gazing with admiration upon a miniature of her future husband, seeks praises of him trum all who approach her. In an interview with Gardiner she speaks veh' mently ot her determination to marry Philip, and some rather indiscreet remarks upon his p.irt lead to his abrupt dismissal. Nor does Da Noailles, the French Ambassador, fare much better upon his remonstrating against the proposed alliance with Spam, who is at war with France, and by which alliance the King fears that England will be brought into the conflict also. Mary reasons with him, and shows him the minia- ture, but, failing to praise it, he too is summarily dismissed, Mary angrily remark- ing, " You cannot Learn a man's nature from his natural toe." She now grants an audience to the Spanish Ambassador, Simon Renard, who art- fully and cunningly lavishes his soothing words of flattery upon her, and asserts that the minature does not do justice to his master — that the original is very far superior to the copy. He then proceeds to sow suspicion in her mind with regard to her sister, and even suggests that she should be well watched, and if caught trip- ping be consigned to the block. But much as Mary is against her, there ia danger in approaching such a step, observing, "I love her not, but all the people love her. And would not have her even of the Tower." Terminating the interview, Mary is about to join the Council who are sitting in Eession, when Renard returns with a letter he has received, containing the formal ofi'er of Prince Philip's hand. Snatching it with joy she hurries into the council- chamber — from which she soon returns with the tidings that the Council have ap- proved the union, and, overcome by her feelings, sinks into a chair, exclaiming rap- turously, " My Philip is all mine ! " Matters, however, without are not going on quite so smoothly ; much disaffection has been gradually spreading amongst the people, and schemes, not at present very powerlul, are being concocted for removing Mary and placing Elizabeth on the throne. Chief amongst the leaders of this movement is Sir Thomas Wyatt, a gen- tleman of wealth and learning, residing at Allington Castle, in the County of Kent, and associated with him is De Noailles and Courtenay. Receiving a dispatch from the latter, calling upon him if he moves at all to move at once, he prepares to do so, and this resolution is strengthened by the arrival of a large concourse of people to support him. After addressing tliem in a finely-written and powerful speech, he puts himself at their head, and they move on towards London, with the intention ot entering the city and making an attack upon the Tower. In the meantime Mary, though alarmed, is not idle. Summoning to her side Gardiner and Lord William How.ird, she hastens to the city, wliere, in the GuiMhall or council-chamber, the Lord Mayor and aldermen, with a large number of citizens, are gathered to receive her. Ir a bold and passionate address, most admirably written, she urges that the objection to the Spanish marriage is only an idle pretext on the part of the rebels, and that their real object is to make her a prisoner, seize and confine her council- lors, and administer the revenues of the country as they please. She vows that if she thought the marriage would bring loss or danger to the people or the state it should never take place ; indeed, she would remain single all her life, and appeals to the citizens for help. She meets with a ready response of support, and prompt measures are ialceii for preventing Wyatt's entering tlie city whilst she hastens to Westminster Pulaei.' for safety. Upon reaching Loudon Bridge Wyatt, to his an- QUKI-.X MAUY. 13 noyance, finds that the drawbriilgre has been cut down and cast into tlio slreum, so there are no means of crossing the river excepting by goinf? round to the next bridge, a distance of ten or tw^'lve miles; wliither he proceeds accordtngly, receiving, liow- ever, before starting, a copy of a paper offei'iugyi hundred pounds for his apprehen- sion, v'' They are anxious moments with Mary. From time to time messengers arrive with the disheartening inielligence that Wyatt has broken through the guards and reached as far as Ludgate in the centre of the city ; then that the Earl of Pembroke had turned traitor ; then Courtenay hurries in with the intelligence that his m n had been broken up by the rebids; all seems nearly lost, when a messenger arrives with the joyous news that the rebels have been overcome and Wyatt taken prisoner. In an instant Mary rises to her natural spirit and dignity, and with the rapidity of lightning flashes forth an order for the Tower. AVlien it is said that Wyatt confessed that Courtenay was in the plot, " To the Tower with /lini.'" exclaims the Queen. And the Princess Klizabeth. "To the Tower with .'ler!" is the instant responsL'. Now then is the Jme for the crafty llenard to act. Speaking smoothly and softly he says, " I trust by this your Highness will allow Some spice of wisdom in my telling yon, ^Vllen last we talked, that Philip would not come 'iill Guildford Dudley and the Duke of Suffolk And Lady Jane had left us." " They shall die, replies," the Queen coldly. " And your so loving sister ? " jays Benard. Drawing herself erect Mary replies in firm and stex'u tones, " She shall die. My foes are at my feet, and Philip king." Thus ends one of the finest and most spirited scenes in the play, and with it the Second Act. Consequent upon the rebellion being crushed executions were abundant all over the country. Wyatt and a large number of his followers were soon disposed of, and hundreds were hanged in every direction, so virulent ran the blood in Mary's heart. In every London street were gibbets erected, and tradesmen executed in front of their own houses. But what excited the people most of all was the execution of Lady Jane Grey and her husband. Two days after Wyatt's apprehension they were ordered to prepare for death. On the day of her execution her husband desired per- mission to see her, but this request she refused, as she knew the parting would be too tender for her fortitude to withstand. The place at first designed for their exe- cution was without the Tower, but it being feared that their youth, beauty and inno- cence might occasion a new insurrection, orders were given that they should be exe- cuted within the Tower. Lord Dudley was the first who suffered at the block, and as his wife was passing on her way to take her turn, she met the officers bearing along tlie headless body of her husband to be buried in the chapel. She paused and looked upon the corpse for some time without emotion ; then, desiring them to proceed, moved onward to meet her fate. There is a beautifully worded description of her death in the first scene of the third act, not included in the acting version because it is too long and out of place, and unnecessary on the stage. At the head of those who drove these violent measures forward, Gardiner was most prominent, aided by Cardinal Pole, a cousin of Mary's, who had always most conscientiously adhered to the Catholic religion, and had incurred Henry's dis- pleasure, not only by refusing to assent to his measures but also by writing strongly against him. For this he was most warmly liked and cherished by the Pope, and was now sent over to England as Legate from the Holy S^. Philip had, at last, reached England, and the marria^ procession is recorded as having been grand in the extreme, and following close upon it, comes Cardinal Pole's interview with the Queen and King, to appoint a day for the meeting of Par- liament, to receive from him the absolution which the Pope had sent, torgivinE- 14 QUEEN MART. them for having' striven agrninst, and passed measures injurious to, the Catholic cause, and offensive to the holy father. This is arranged to take place on St. An- drew's day, and accordingly both branches of Parliament are summoned tor that day. With all due formality and solemnity comes the humiliating spectacle of the English Parliament bending low before ^e Pope's representative, and acknowledg- ing with shame the sinfulness of their .ways. The absolution is given amidst tears and rejoicings ; the only member having iirmness and courage to stand against the degradation of the scene being Sir Ralph Bageahall, who is, in consequence, arrested for the offence, but afterwards released. The persecution of clergymen now sets in stronger than ever. Hooper, Bishop of Gloucester, and Rogers, Prebendary of St. Paul's, suffered martyrdom. Bonner, Bishop of Loudon, bloated with rage and luxury, let loose his vengeance without re- straint, and seemed to take a pleasure in the pains of the unhappy sufferers, whilst the (iueen, by her letters, exhorted him to pursue the pious work, as She termed it, without pity or interruption. Ridley, a former Bishop of London, and Latimer, Bishop of Worcester, wei'e condemned and suffered togethei-, and soon after them came Cranmer. Upon the representation that his life would be spared he recanted Protestantism, and embraced the Romish faith ; but Gardiner and Mary had re- solved upon his death, and he was sentenced to be burnt alive. He was brought to St. Mary's Church, in the City of Oxford, where he was desired publicly to repeat his belief in popery ; but this he steadily and firmly refused, and was led off to the stake. Upon the fire beginning to kindle around him his energy and courage re- turned in double force; he stretched forth his right hand and held it in the flames until it w:is consumed, while he frequently cried out, " That unworthy hand ! " In the Fourth Act a full account of all these proceedings will be found written in most beautiful and telling language ; but certainly the scenes are not suitable to be put upon the stage even if time would allow its being done. The account, however, of the execution, delivered by one Peters, who witnessed it, is retained. It is most admirably written, and, well delivered, must prove one of the gems of the piece. By Mary's orders her sister was sent to Woodstock, in the County of Oxford, to remaia there under the care of one Sir Henry Bedingfleld, a rough but honest gentleman, who is really favorable to her cause ; but she is not allowed to remain there long, for Philip and Mary conceive a plan for uniting her with Prince Philibert, and a message is therefore dispatched requiring her presence in London, a command which Elizabeth obeys with much fear and sad misgivings as to the result. Events now begin to assume a shape which bode no good for the peace, health, or happiness of Mary. The chance of any issue of her marriage is more remote than ever, and Philip day by day grows sterner and colder in his demeanor. Sir Nicholas Heath has replaced Gardiner as Chancellor, and the Queen looks to him to preserve Calais, in which Philip joins, the more so as he announces his intended departure for Spain to look after the affairs of his own country. This is indeed sad news to the already half broken-hearted Queen. She begins to be sensible of the dangerous position she occupies— of the growing hatred of her subjects— of the approaching hour of retribution for the murders she has committed under the name uf justice and religion— and she trembles at the thoughts of being left alone. In vain she ap- peals to her husband to remain ; a cold denial is the only answer, with an intima- tion that she must proclaim the Princess Elizabeth her heir; idolizing Philip, and submissive to his slightest wish, this she promises. So far, then, Philip's scheme looks well ; since all hope of issue has fled he perceives how fast his wife is break- ing, that death is rapidly approaching, and how strong his position would be if he could bring about a marriage between himself and Elizabetli ; with this object he instructs his emissary, the Count de Feria, to obtain an audience of the Princess, and cautiously sound her. upon the subject. Not only with the Queen, but with Cardinal Pole, are matters assuming a very serious aspect. Pope Julius the Third has been succeeded by Paul the Fourth, who views the Cardinal's conduct in a dif- ferent light to that which his predecessor did, and tlu'refoie cites liim to Rome upon a charge of heresy. Pole in his persecutions exceeded Gardiner, so much so that he QUEEN MART. 15 acquired the name of the scourge and butcher of the English Church, and now to be rewarded only by a trial before the Inquisition is a sore death-blow to his' ambition, dignity, and pridw, and it is in vain that the Queen, prostrated as she herself is, en- deavors to console him. In the very depth of his bitter sufferings he draws an ago- nizing picture of himself and the Queen united in the bonds of misery. " Our bridesmaids are not lovely — Disappointment, Ingratitude, Injustice, Evil-tongue, Labor in vaiu. **#*** Our altar is a mound of dead men's clay, Dug from the grave that yawns for us beyond ; And there is one Death stiinds behind the Groom, And there is one Death stands behind the Bride." And it was not long before his wretched forebodings were literally realized. The miserable position of both was greatly increased by scraps of paper being scattered about the palace with words of scornful and threatening meaning •written upon them ; indeed, everything now tended to increase the illness of both and has- ten on their approaching dissolution. But the most fearful blow as yet was the news of the loss of Calais and Guisnes, which had been retaken by the French. It is reported that this news filled the whole kingdom with murmurs and the Queen with despair, and she was heard to say that when dead the name of Calais would be found engraven upon her lieart. A fever sets in, and in her last extremity she de- termines to send for her sister, entrusting the Count de Feria with tlie message. This mission admirably suits his purpose to do his master's bidding, and he sounds Elizabeth, as he suggested. The subject, however, meets with but a cold reception, and is indeed entirely forgotten in the genuine an.;er which she evinces upon learn- ing that he has kept the news of the Queen's alarming Illness to the last. Mary is now sinking fast ; her mind begins to give way, and the horrible atrocities which she has sanctioned rise up in fearful reality before her fevered imagination. In a moment of phrenzy her eyes rest upon a portrait of her husband ; a fine scene ensues in which she exclaims : " This Philip shall not Stare in upon my haggurdness ; Old, miserable, diseased. Incapable of children. Come thou down," backing the picture to pieces with a knife and exclaiming with triumph, "Lie there!" But suddenly a reaction takes place, and with a burst of agonizing grief she exclaims, *' O God, I have killed my Philip! " and sinks down exhausted. This scene, indeed, the whole act, is the finest in the play. Mary's end is at hand — she is led to her chamber just at the moment Elizabeth arrives, and almost immediately expires, upon which the Princess is immediately proclaimed Queen of Ensl^md. And thus ends the greatest dramatic poem that has be^ published for many years past. Of the beauty and power of many portions it is impossible to speak too highly, but the dramatic construction is faulty ; theie is not much interest excited in the progress of the events or in the cUaraccers so very numerously introduced, Mary is, of course, the sun of the drama, round which all the other characters revolve, bke planets, laige and small. I; is a magnificently drawn character throughout, and about the most faithfully depicted one that I have read ; the delineation of it calls for the exhibition of great mental iind physical qualifications on the part of the re- presentative, more especially in the last Act, which is admirably constructed and written ; affording scope and opportunity for making it one of the most stirring and grandest pieces of acting ever seen upon the stage, and worthy of a Ristori or a Eachel. Philip's character- cold, unfeeling, grasping and repulsive— is well rendered, and affords good opportunities for a careful actor. Simon Renard — cunning, tricky, keen and treacherous— is also well portrayed, and there is plenty of scope tor some telling points and situations during the progress of the play, by calm and careful action. The Princess Elizabeth is vtry nicely drawn, and the scene at Woodstock, if artia 16 QUKEN MAKY. and actov combine, may be made one of the most attractive i.\ the dratna, moro especially by the employment of a thoroughly sweet and efficient vocalist to render the quaint old English sons; there introduced. Many of the other characters, for instanco, Pole, Gardiner, Howard, Cranmer. the ~Earl ot Devon, the staunch Bagenball, Wyatt, etc , can be made very cffeclive by ju- dicious handling, not forgetting Peters, in the fine speech descriptive of Cranmer's death. It was with considerable diffidence and misgivings that I undertoolc to dramatize this work— the task was one beset with much difficulty. After many careful perus- als and much study, I struck out my course. The last Act is not only a fine piece of liferary composition, but is great in a dramatic sense, affording scope for magnificent acting. I determined, therefore, to make that my grand point and aim, gathering from the previous portions all the dramatic incidents I could, although not quite in unison as regards time and space, omitting much that is powerful, beautiful and im- pressive in perusal, but which would be uninteresting, tedious and tame upon the stage, and thus work up, step by step, to the last Act. Whether I have succeeded in producing a good acting drama or not, I must leave to the public to determine. I can only assure them that I have used my best endeavors, bcneslly and zealously, to do so. I am proud to say that I have always found favor at their hands, and, if I deserve it, I ask it now. J. M. Kingdom. EXPLANATION OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS. The Actor is supposed to face the Audience. B.SE. / SCENE. \ B.SZ. / / \ \ z^2e. I.. IE. C. ATTDIENOT. L. Left. L. c. Left Centre. 1.. 1 E. Left First Entrance. L. 2 E. Left Second Entrance. L. 3 E. Left Third Entrance. L. V. E. Left Upper Entrance (wherever this Scene may be.) P. L. c. Door Left Centre. c. E. R. 1 E. li. 2 E. n. 3e. E. u. E. D. E. C- Centre. Pvight. Eight First Entrance. Right Second Entrance. Eight Third Entrance, Eight Upper Entrance. Door Eight Centre. QUKKN MAlir. 17 BILL FUR PROGRAMMES. ACT I. Scene 1.— LONDON. ALDGATE, RICHLY DECORATED. The Royal Procession— Qve.'en Maey and the Princess Elizabeth — The Rimiors of Marriage. Scene 2.— *A ROOM IN LAMBETH PALACE. FUf/hf of the Clergymen and Bishops— M.A.niYVi, Urges Ceanmeb to Escape — His Noble Refusal — A Last Farewell — Arrest of CRANaEii. Scene 3.— ST. PAUL'S CROSS, LONDON. Catholic Preaching to the Mob— Riot and Tumult— The Eael of Devon Saves Fatueb Bouene's Life — Attach upon the Spanish Servants — The Plot of the Frencli Ambassador — The Eael of DTZVoy! Enstiared — The Treasonous Papers. ScFNE 4.— LONDON. A ROOM IN THE PALACE. The Eael of Devon ■«'« Love — Elizabeth makes Mirth — Queen Maey a Listener — A Summons for the Princess — The Fear of Treachery and Death. Scene 5.— ANOTHER ROOM IN THE PALACE. Queen Maby Admiring the Miniature of hei- Intended Husband — Story of Lady Jans Geey — Gaedinee in Disgrace — Court Scandal— Arti- fice and Cunning of the French Ambassador — Simon Renaed Plays his Cards Well — Arrival of Philip's Offer of Marriage — Energetic Action of the Queen — The Council Sanctions it — Triumph of Maby — " My Philip is all mine ! " ACT 11. Scene 1.— APARTMENT IN WYATT'S CASTLE, IN KENT. The Story of a Gallant Father — Dispatch from the Eael of Devon — The Blow Must be Struck — Arrival of Bands of Rebels — Commencement of the Insurrection — Noble Speech of Wyatt, aiid March for London. Scene 2.— THE GUILDHALL IN THE CITY OF LONDON. Assembling of the Lord Mayoi; Aldermen and Citizens — Arrival of Queen Maby — An A^^peal for Help to Stop the Rebellion — Enthusiastic Recep- tion and Promise of Thirty Thousand Men. Scene 3 —LONDON BRIDGE. Sib Thomas Wyatt Checkmated -The Bridge Destroyed— Reward for his Ajiprehension — Cruelty of the Insurrectionist Leadcr^The March for King stem. Scene 4. — ROOM IN THE GATEHOUSE OF WESTMINSTER PALACE. Maby Waiting for the Verdict — Defeat of the Guards— Bravery of the Queen— The Eael of Devoir's Flight— News of the Victory— ^ya.tt: taken Prisoner — Order for the Arrest of the Eael of Devon and the Pbincess Elizabeth— TAe Sentence of Death ! ACT III. Scene 1— A STREET IN THE CITY OF LONDON. The Staunch Protestant Cageniiall — Tioyal Procession of Philip a7id 18 QUEEN MAllY. Mae^? — Tyrannical Condtict of Gaedinee — "Stake and Fire — Sharp Work and Short .' " Scene 2.— ROOM IN WIIITEflALL PALACE. Arrival o/ the Pope's Legate, CAT^iyiy Ah Pole — Absolution from Rome for the English JVation — Parliament Ordered to Assemble. SciLM! 3.— THE GREAT HALL IN WHITEHxVLL. The Lords and Commoners Assembled— Arrival of the King, Queeri and Cardinal— The Peniienial Addrest read by Gardiner — Cardinal Pole Gives Absolution — Exciting Scene— The JVbble and Honest Bagenhall Indignantly Refuses to Kneel— His Arrest. Scene 4.— Till: PORCH OP ST. MARY'S CHURCH, OXFORD. The Gossip oftioo old Country Women— People beir.g Burned and Hung in all Directions— Account of the Burning of Cranmer. Scene 5.— APARTMENT OF THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH, AT WOODSTOCK. A Royal Prisoi\er — "Much suspected, of me nothing proven can be, quoth Elizabeth, Prisoner "—A Milkmaid Melody—" Robin came and kissedher whilst milking thecow" — A Rough but KindandHon- cit Keeper— A Summons from the Queen— Fears and Doubts o/" Eliz- abeth — Departure for London jY. B. — The next Scene can be omitted, if desired, and the Act end here. Scene 6.— A ROOM IN THE PALACE. Refusal of the Princess to Marry— Philip's Disappointment ivith JIary — Simon Renards Cards Played Well Again— Intended Departure of the King for Spain— A Crafty Courtier— A Wije's Troubles. ACT IV. Scene 1.— LONDON. HALL IN THE PALACE. Sorrow Falls Upon the Queen — Intended Departure ofViULXP—A Wife's Devotion — Proposals for War Refused — A .Xew Rebellion Threaten- ing^SchemiiUj of Philip /o Marry Elizabeth — Renard Again Plays his Cards H'e//. Scene 2— A ROOM IN THE PALACE. The Queen and the Cardinal — Pole Charged with Hrresy — Tlie Scourge and Butcher of the Fnglish Church — Remorse and Despair begin their Work — Threatening Warnings are Cast About — A Fearful Bloiv — Philip Gone a>id Calais Taken — The End cf Map.y Approaches — Death of the Earl of Devon — Message to Elizabeth — The Fatal Fivcr Begins. Scene 3.— APARTMENT IN A HOUSE NEAll LONDON. Elizabeth and the King's Messenger — A Subtle Envoy Pleads his Master's Cause — The Hints of Mary's Death and Another Marriage — Virtue and Caution — News of the Queen's Illness and De^mrture of the Princiss for London. Scene 4.— LONDON. BEFORE THE PALACE. Approaching Death o/Maky — Illness of Cardinal Pole — The End Draics Nigh. Scene 5.— A ROOM IN THE PALACE. The Queen's Agony — " I am dying, Philip ; come to me." — Only the Portrait j^fjt — Feeling of Approaching Death — Lady Clarence's Dcseriptio:s of Love and Happiness — ^Iaky's Mind Ber/ins to Wand r — Visions of the Past, too Horrible to Bear — Phrenzy of the Queen and Destruction of Philip's Portrait — Retreat of Maiiy to Iter Chamber — Arrival of Elizabeth — The Last Hours of the Sister — Dealh of ^IXT^Y and Pro- clamation of the Pr.ivcEss Eltzab :th c.s Queen of England I QITEEISr MARY. ACT I. SCENE I. — Aldgate* rlcldj decorated. As the curtnin rises all is husfle and confuswn, and a hubbub of voices ; the Citizens assembled, xoilh ivomen, and ehildfi n are scattered over the stage, thei/ talk and latujh, as do also those looking out of the windows. Tlie Marshalmen move about very busily, R. and l. In ihc front, most conspicuous, are First, Second, and Third Citizicns, r. ; Old Nokes, ami Nokes, and First, Second, a?id Third Gentlemen, l. Maeshalman {bustling about). Stand back, keep a clear lane. AVhen will her Majesty pass, sayst thou 1 why, now, even now ; wherefore rince — prelates kneel to you. " Court. I am tlie noblest blood in Europe, madam, " A Courtenay of Devon, and her cousin. " Eliz." She heais j'ou make your boast that after all She means to wed you. Folly, my good Lord. Court. How folly ] a great party in the state Wills me to wed her. Eliz. Failing her, my Lord, Doth not as great a party in the state Will you to wed me 7 Court. Even so, fair lady. Eliz. You know to flatter ladies. Court. . Nay, I meant True matters of the heart. Eliz. My heart, my Lord, Is no great party in the state ns yet. Court. Great, said you? nay, you shall be great. I love you, Lay my life in your hands. Can you be close 1 Eliz. Can you, my Lord 1 Court. Close as a miser's casket. Listen : * This is an allusion to the fact that he liad been sent to the Tower by the Q«een, but afterwards pardoned. ACT I.] QUEEN MAKY. 27 The King of Fiance, Noailles tlie Ambassador, The Duke of Suffolk, and Sir Peter Carew, Sir Thomas Wyatt, I myself, some others. Have sworn this Spanish marriage shall not be. If Mary will not iiear us — well — conjecture- Were I in Devon with my wedded bride, Tiie people there so worship me — Your ear ; You shall be Queen. Eliz. {with meaniufj). You speak too low, my Lord ; I cannot hear you. Court. I'll repeat it. Eliz. • No ! Stand farther off, or you may lose your head. CouitT. I have a head to lose for your sweet sake. Eliz. Have you, my Lord 1 Best keep it for your own. Nay, poul not, cousin. Not many friends are mine, except indeed Among the many. I believe you mine ; And so you may continue mine, farewell, And that at once. Enter Mary, c. d. — pauses, holding the curtains aside. Maky (aside). Wliispering — leagued together To bar me from my Philip. Court. Pray — consider Eliz. (seeing the Quern, speaks in a loud, laughing tone). Well, that's a noble horse of yours, my Lord, I trust that he will carry you well to-day, And heal your headaclie. Court, (with as'onishment). You are wild; what headache? "Heartache, perchance; not headache." Eliz. (aside, to Courtenay). Are you blind 1 Couetenay sees the Queen, and exits, l. 1 e. Mary dro2>s the curtain and retires. Enter Lord William Howard, r. 1 e. Howard. Was that my Lord of Devon 1 " do not you " Be seen in corners with my Lord of Devon. " He hath fallen out of favor with the Queen. " She fears the Lords may side with you and him " Against her marriage ; therefore is he dangerous. " And" if this Prince of flulFand feather come To woo you, niece, ho is dangerous every way. Eliz. Not very dangerous (hat way, my good uncle. Howard. But your own state is fuli of danger here. The di.saffected, heretics, reformers, Look to you as the one to crown their ends. Mix not yourself witli any jtlot I pray yon ; Nay. if by chance you hear of any such, Speak not thereof — no, not to your best friend, Lest you sho'uld be confounded with it. " Still — " Perinde ac cadaver — as the priest says, " You know your Latin — quiet as a dead body " What was my Lord of Devon telling you V "Eliz. Whnth'^r he told nie anything or not, 28 QUEEX MART. [aCT I. '■ I I'ollow your pood counsel, gracious uncle. '•■ Quiet as a dead body. " Howard. You do right well. " I do not care to know ; but this 1 charge you," Tell Courtenuy nothing. " The Lord Chancellor '■' (I count it as a kind of virtue in him, " He hath not many), as a uiastiti^dog " May love a puppy cur for no more reason " Than that the twain have been tied up together, '• Tims Gardiner — for tlie two were fellow-prisoners " So many years in yon accursed Tower — " Hath taken to this Courtenay." Look to it, niece, He hath no fence when Gardiner questions him ; All oozes out ; yet him — because they know him The last White Rose,* the last Plantanenet (Nay, there is Cardinal Pole, too), the people Claim as their natural leader — ay, some say, That you shall marry him. make him King belike, {they cross.) " Eliz. Do they say so, good uncle 1 " Howard. Ay, good niece ! " You should be plain and open with me, niece. " You should not play upon me. " Eliz. No, good uncle." Gardiner otters, c. d., and advances. Gardiner (c). The Queen would see your Grace upon the moment. Eliz. (r. c). Why, my lord Bishop % Gard. (c). I think she means to counsel your withdrawing To Ashridge,f or some other country house. Eliz. Why, my lord Bishop "? Gard. I do but bring the message, know no more. " Your Grace will hear her reasons from herself." Eliz. 'Tis mine own wish fulfill'd before the word Was spoken, for in truth I had meant to crave Permission other Highness to retire To Ashridge, and pursue my studies there. Gard. Madam, to have the wish before the word Is man's good fairy — and the Queen is yours. I left her with rich jewels in her hand. Whereof 'tis like enough she means to make A farewell present to your Grace. Eliz. My Lord, I have the jewel of a loya! heart. Gaud. I doubt it not, madam, must loyal. \Bows loiv, and r.r.V,,', c. d. Howard (l. c). See, Tliis comes of parleyina with my Lord of Devon. Well, well, you must obey ; " and I myself " Believe it will be better for your welfare." Your time will come. * For m:iny years previous to this period, groat feuds had existed between rival brandies of the nobility of Enfrland, represented by the houses of York and Lan- caster: the foruier wore" as a ba^lge, or token of the cause tliey upheld, a iD/iiu. rose, and the latter a ml one : and the qu.arrels between these parties arc called in history the " Wars of the Roses." 1 The name of a town some miles distant from London, where there was a royal residence. ACT I.] QTJEEN MAKT. 29 E1.1Z. '■ I think my time will come. " Uncle," I am of sovereign natm'e, that I know. Not to be quell'd; and I have felt within me Stiirincrs of some great doom when God's just hour Peals — hut this fierce old Gardiner — " his big baldness, "Tiiat irritable forelock which he rubs," His buzzard beak and deep-incavern'd eyes Half fright me. HowAKD. You've a bold heart ; keep it so. lie cannot touch yon save that you turn traitor; '■ And so take heed 1 p;ay you — you are one " Who love that men should smile upon you, niece. " 'L'hey'd smile you into treason — some of them. Eliz. ' I spy the rock beneath the smiling sea." But if this Piiilip, the proud Catholic prince, And this bahl priest, and she that hates me, seek In that lone house, to practise on m^' life, By poison, (ire, sliot, stab HowAUD. They will not, niece. Mine is the fleet and all the power at sea — Or will be in a moment. If they dared ' To harm you, I would blow this Philip and all Your trouble 10 the doastar and the devil. Eliz. To the Pleiades, uncle ; they have lost a sister. Howard. But why sa that 1 wliat have you done to lose her 1 Come, come, I will go with you to the Queen. [Exeunt, c. d. SCENE V. — A room in the Palace. Mary is discovered seate-.l at the right hand of the table, 11., gazing upon n richly jewelled miniature ; Alice is standing behind on Iter left. Mauy (kissing the miniature). JMost goodly, kinglike, and an emperor'n son — A king to be — is he not noble, girl ? Alice. Goodly enough, your Grace, and yet, methinks, I have seen goodlier. Mary. Ay ; some waxen doll Thy baby eyes have rested on, belike ; All red and wliite, the fashion of our land. But my good mother came (God rest her soul) Of Spain, aiul I am Spanish in myself. And in my Ulvings. [after a pame changing the conversation.) " Alici';. By your Grace's leave, " Your royal mother came of Spain, but took " To the English red and wliite. Your royal father '• (For so they say) was all pure lily and rose " In his youth, and like a lady. " Mary. 0, just God ! '■ Sweet mother, yon had lime and cause enough " To sicken of his hltf^s and Ins roses. "Cast off", betray d, defameil, divorced, forlorn ! " And then the king — that traitor past forgiveness, " The false archbishop fawning on him, married " The mother ot Eliz,iheth — a heretic, " E'en as she is; but God hatii sent me here 30 QUEEN MAUY. [,VCT I. " To take such order with all heretics " That it sl)all be, before I die, as tho' " My father and luy brother had not Hved." ^Vliat wast thou saying of tliis Lady Jane, Now iu the Tower 1 Alice. Wiiy, madam, she was passing Some chapel down in Essex,* and with her Lady Anne Wiiarton, and tlie Lady Anne Bow'd to the Pyx ;t but Lady Jane stood up Stiff as the very baclibone of heresy. And wherefore bow j'e not. says Lady Anne, To hiiu within tiiere who made heaven and earth 1 I cannot and I dare not, tell your Grace What Lady Jane replied. Mauy. Bat I will have it. Alice. She said— pray pardon me, and pity her — She hath hearken'd evil counsel — ah ! she said, The baker made hiin. Maky. {starting up in coujcr). Monstrous! blasphemous! She ought to burn. Hence, thou. (Alice cmirteseys loic anil backing out, cxitu l. 3 e. Maky advances, c.) No — being traitor Her head will fall : shall it? she is but a child. We do not kill the child for doing that His father whipt bin) into doing — a head So ruii of grace and beauty ! would that mine We: e half as "racious ! 0, my lord to be, My love, for thy sake only. I am eleven years older than he is. Bui will he care for that 1 " No, by the ho'y V^irgin, being noble, " But love me only : then the bastard sprout," My sister, is far fairer thin myself. Will he be drawn to her 1 " No, being of the true faith with myself. " Paget is for him — for to wed with Spain " Would treble England " — Gardiner is against him ; The Council, people, Parliament against hitn ; But I will have him ! " My hard father hated me ; " My brother rather hated me than loved ; " My sister cowers and hates me. Holy Virgin, " Plead with thy blessed son ; grant mo my prayer ; " Give me my Philip ; and " we two will Ipad The living waters of the Faith asrain Back thro' their widow'd channel here, and watch The parch'd banks rolling incense, as of old, To heaven, " and kindled with the palms of Christ ! Enter Ushek, c. d. Wlio waits, sir? [turning round sharplg.) TTsHEit. Madam, the Lord Chancellor. Mary. Bid him coaie in. [Exit Ushek. ■•' One of ilii) counties of Eiifrhind joining on to tho County of Mi.ldlesex in which the I ity of Loudon is situ.ated. t A little bos or chest in which the consecrated host is kept in the Roman Catholic Church. ACT I.] ftUI'.EN MART. HI Elder Gardiner, c. d. «» Good-ni(>i7ii;i2, my good Lord. Gard. {lowing low and advancing with liumiit.y). That every morning of your majesty JMay be most good, is every moriiins's prayer Of your most loyal subject, Steplien Gardiner. Mary {sarcastically). Come you to tell me this, my Lord? Gard. And more. Your people liave begun to learn your worth. Your pious wisli to pay Kins Edward's debts, Your lavisli household curb'd, and the remission Of half that subsidy levied on the jieople. Make all tongues praise and all hearts beat for you. I'd hive you yet more loved ; tiie realm is poor. The exchequer at neap-ebb ; we might withdraw Part of our garrison at Calais. Mary. Calais !* Our one point on the main, the gate of France ! I am Queen of England ; take mine eyes, mine heart, But do not lose me Calais. Gard. Do not fear it. Of that hereafter. I say your Grace is loved. That I may keep you thus, wlio am ynur friend And ever faithful counsellor, might I sjjeak 1 Mauy 1 can forespeak your speaking. Would I marry Prince Philip, if all England hate him 1 That is Your question, and I front it with another: Is it England, or a party 1 Now, your answer. Gard. My answer is, I wear beneath my dress A shirt of mail ; {opens his robes and shoivs it) my house hath been assaulted, And when I walk abroad, the populace, With fingers pointed like so many daggers, Stab me in fancy, hissing Spain and Philip ; " And when I sleep, a hundred men-at-arms " Guard my poor dreams for England." Men would murder me. Because they think me favorer of this marriage. Mary. And that were hard upon you, my Lord Chancellor Gard. But our young Earl of Devon Mary. Earl of Devon 1 I freed him from the Tower, placed him at court ; 1 made him Earl of Devon, and — the fool — He wrecks his health and wealth on courtesans, And rolls himself in carrion like a dog. " Gard More like a school-boy that hath broken bounds, " Sickening himself with sweets. " Maby." I will not hear of him. Good, then, they will revolt; but I am Tudor, And shall control them. Gard. I will help you. Madam, Even to the utmost. " All the church is grateful. * A town on the coast of Prance on the opposite side of the English Channel to the English seajwrt, Dover, from which it is distant atjout twenty-two miles. En- gland once held many possessions in France, but they Iii\d by deirees been wrested Ijrom her, and this and Guisnes were the only places iemninirg: in her possession. J2 QUEEN MAKY. [aCI I. " You have ousted the mock priest, repulpited " Tlie Slie|)lierd of St. Peter, raised the rood again, " And brought us back the mass." I am all thanks To God and to your Grace ; yet I know well, Your people, and 1 go with them so far, Will brook nor Pope nor Spaniard here to play The tyraiit,or in commonwealth or church. Mary {shotvii/f/ the miniature). Is this the face of one who plays the tyrant? ' Peruse it ; is it not goodly, ay, and gentle 1" Gard. Madam, methinks a cold face and a haughty. And when your Highness talks of Courtenay — Ay, true — a goodly one. {aside) I would his life Were half as goodly. Mary. What is that you mutter ? Gakd, Oh, Madam, take it bluntly ; marry Philip, And be stepmother* of a score of sons ! Tiie prince is known in Spain, in Flanders, ha ! For Philip Mary. You ofiTend us ; you may leave us. "You see thro' warping glasses. "Gard. If your Majesty — - " Mary. I have sworn upon the body and blood of Christ " I'll none but Philip. Gard. Hath your Grace so sworn ? Mary. Ay, Simon Renard knows it. Gard. News to me! It then remains for your poor Gardiner, So you still care to trust him somewhat less Than Simon Renard, to compose the event In some such form as least may harm your Grace. Mary. I'll have the scandal sounded to the mud. ( passionately) I know it a scandal. Gakd. All my hope is now It may be found a scandal. Mary (avgrily). You offend us. Gard. {aside). These princes are like children, must be physick'd. The bitter in the sweet. I have lost mine office. It may be, thro' mine honesty, like a fool, {boxes loiv.) [Exit, CD. Enter Usuer, c. d. Mary. Who waits ? Usher. The Ambassador fi-om France, your Grace. Mary. Bid hira come in. [Exit Ushku ; Mary sits on riylit of table, r. NoAiLLES enters, c. d., boivs low; and advances. Good mornnig. Sir de Noailles. NoAiLLES. A happy morning to your Majesty. Mary. And I should some time have a happy morning; I have had nore yet. What says the King, your master'? NoAiL. Madam, my raaster hears with much alarm, That you may marry Philip, Prince of Spain — Foreseeing, with whate'er unwillingness, * This is an allusion to the rumors win"'. Ii .;1 bern started tliat Philip led a verj dissipated lite, and many ot hisolfspiiDg ui le in existence on the continent. lCT I.] QTJEEN MART. 33 That if this Pliilip be the titular kina Of England, and at war with him, your Grace And kingdom will he suck'd into tlie war, Ay, tlio' you long for i)eace ; wherefore, my master, If Imt to prove your Majesty's good will. Would fain have some fresh treaty drawn between you. Makv. Why some fresh tieaty V wherefore should I do iti Sir, if we many, we shall still maintain All foiuier treaties with his jNIajesty. Our royal word for that! and your good master, Pray God he do not be the fiist to break tliem, MuU be content with that; and so, farewell. NoAiL. (bows loiv inid is (jo'ng hut returns). I would your answer had been other, Madam, For I foresee dark days. Maky. And so do I, sir; Your master works against me in the dark. I do believe he holp Northumberland Ayainst me. NoAiL. Nay, pure fantasy, your Grace. Why should lie move against you1 I\Iary. Will you hear why 1 Mary of Scotland, — for I have not own'd My sister, and 1 will not, — after me Is heir to England; and my royal father. To make the crown of Scotland one with ours. Had maik'd her for my brother Edward's bride ; Ay, but your king stole her a babe from Scotland In order to betroth her to your Dauphin. See then : Mary of Scotland, married to your Dauphin, Would make our Enaland, Fiance ; Mary of England, joining hands with Spain, Wouhl be too strong lor France. Yea, were there issue born to her, Spain and we, One crown, might rule the world. There lies your fear. That is your drift. You play hide and seek. " Show me your faces ! " NoAiL. Madam, I am amazed : French, I must needs wish all good things for Fi'ance. That must be pardon'd me; but I protest Your Grace's policy hath a farther flight Than mine into the future. " We but seek " Some settled ground for peace to stand upon." Mary. Well, we will leave all this, sir, to our council. Have you seen Philip ever ? NoAiii. Only once. Maky {rising and advancing to r. c, and showing miniature'). Is this like Philip ? NoAiL. {advancing, l. c). Ay, but nobler looking. Mary. Hath he the large ability of the Emperor? NoAiL. No, surely. Mary. I can make allowance for thee, Thou speakest of the enemy of thy king. NoAiii. Make no allowance for the naked truth. He is every way a lesser man than Charles ; Stone-hard, ice-cold — no dash of daring in him. 34 QUEKN MAUY. [ ACT I. Mary. If cold, his life is pure. No.jL. Why, {smiling) no, indeed. JIaky {eagerly). Saystthou? NoAiL. A very wanton life indeed, [smiling.) Mauy {angrily). Your audience is concluded, sir. [Noaii,le;s boivs and exits, c. D. You cannot Learn a man's nature from his natural foe. Enter Usher, c. d. Who waits'? Usher. The Ambassador of Spain, your Grace. (Mary leaves her hand to signify admission.) [Exit Ushek, c. d. Enter Simon Renaud, c. d., he bows very low and advances. MAuy ad- vances to meet him, offers her hand, on tuhich he kneels and kisses i', then rising, they advance, Mary. Thou art welcome, Simon Renard. Hast tliou Broui^lit me the letter which thine Emperor promised Loiinr since, a formal offer of the hand Of Philip? Renakd. Nay, your Grace, it hath not reach'd me. I know not wherefore — "some mischance of flood, " And broken bridire, or spavin'd horse, or wave "And wind at their old battle ; he must have written." Mauy {pettishly). But Philip never writes me one poor word, Which in his absence had been all my wealth. Strange in a wooer ! Ren. Yet I know the Prince, So your king Parliament suffer him to land, Yearn'i to set foot upon your island shore. Mary. God change the pebble which his kingly foot First presses, into some more costly stone Than ever blinded eye. "I'll have one mark it " And bring it me. Ill have it burnish'd firelike ; " I'll set it round with gold, with pearl, with diamond, " Let the great angel of the church come with him ; " Stand on the deck and spread his wings for sail ! "God lay the waves and strew the storms at sea, " And here at land among the people." Renard, I am much beset, I am almost in despair. Paget is ours. Gardiner ])erchance is ours ; But for our heretic Parliament — Ren. Madam, You fly your thoughts like kites. My master, Charles, Bade you go softly with your heretics here, Un'tii your throne had ceased to tremble. Then Spit them like larks for aught I care. " Besides, " When Henry broke the carca.ss of your church " To pieces, there were many wolves among you " Who diagg'd the scatter'd limbs into their den. " The Pope would have you make them render these ; " So would your cousin, Cardinal Pole; ill counsel! " These let thetii keep at present ; stir not yet " This matter of the church lands. At his coming " Your siar will rise. ACT I.] QUEKN MAKY. 35 Mauy {in a nielanchol;/ tons). My star ! a b.aleful o:ie. 1 see bill the black nigbt, and bear Llie wult. {aflcr a pause) " What, bLar? " Ren. * Your star will be your princely son, ■' Heir of this England and the Netherlands 1 '• And if your wolf the while should howl for more, " We'll dust him from a bag of Spanish gold. " I do believe, I have dusted some already, " That, soon or late, your Parliament is ours. " Mary." Why do th§^' talk so foully of your prhice, Renard ? Ren. The lot of princes. To sit high Is to be lied about. Mary. They call him cold, Haughty, ay, worse. Ren. Why, doubtless, Phihp shows S.)me of the bearing of your blue blood — still All within measure — nay, it \v^\\ b^comes him. Mary. Hath he the large ability of his father"? RiiN. Nay, some believe that he will go beyond him. Mary {showing miniature). Is this like him 'i Ren. Ay, somewhat; {artfully) but your Philip Is the most pvincelike Prince beneath the sun. This is a daub to Pliilip. Mary. Of a pure life 1 Ren. As an angel among angels. " Yea, by Heaven, " The text — your Highness knows it, " Whosoever " Looketli after a woman," would not graze " The Prince of Spain. You are happy in him there, " Chaste as your grace." Mary [pleased). I am happy in him there. Ren. {cunninghj). And would be altogether happy, Madam, So that your sister were but look'd to closer. Yoti have sent her from the court, but then she goes, I warrant, not to hear the nightingales, But hatch you some new treason in the woods. Mary. We have otir spies abroad to catch her tripping, And then if caught, to the Tower. Ren. The Tower ! the block ! The word has turn'd your Highness pale; the thing Was no such scarecrow in your father's time. I have heard, the longue yet quiver'd with the jest When the head leapt — so common ! I do think To save your crown that it must come to this. Maky. I love her not, but all th^ people love her, And would not liave her even of the Tower. " Ren. Not yet ; but your old Traitors to the Tower — '• Why, when you put Northumberland to death, " The sentence having past upon them all, " Spared you the DuUe of Suffolk, Guildford Dudley. " E'en that young girl who dared to we:ir your crown ? "Mary. Dared! no, not that; the child obey'd her father. " Spite of her tears her father forced it on her." Ren. Good Madam, when the Roman wish'd to reign, He slew not him alone who wore the purple, But his assessor in the throne, " perchance " A child more innocent than Lady Jane." 36 UUEEX MAliT. [act I. Maky. I am English Queen, not Roman Emperor. Ren. Yet too much mercy is a want of mercy, And wastes more life. S'.amp out the fire, or Ihis Will smoulder and re-flanie, and burn the throne Wliere you should sit with Philip : he will not come Till she be gone. Maky. Indeed, if that were true— {hesitating) But I must say farewell. I am somewhat faint Witli our long talk. Tho' Queen, I am not queen Of mine own heart, which every now and then Beats me half dead : yet ^ay, this golden chain — {removing it from her neck) * My father on a birthday gave it me, And I have broken with my father — take. And wear it as memorial of a morning Wliich found me full of foolish doubts, and leaves me As hopeful. Ren. {aside). Whew — the folly of all follies Is to be love-sick for a shadow, {aloud) Madam, This chains me to your service, not with gold, But dearest links of love. Farewell, and trust me, Philip is yours. [Kneels, kisses her hand, rises, and exits, c. d. Mary {despondingly). Mine — but not yet all mine. Enter Ushku, c. d. Usher. Your Council is in session, please your Majesty. Mary. Sir, let them sit. I must have time to breathe. No, say I come, {exit Usher) I won by boldness once. The Emperor counsell'd me to fly to Flanders. I would not ; but a hundred miles I rode. Sent out my letters, call'd my friends together, Struck home and won. And when the Council would not crown me — thought To bind me first by oaths I could not keep. And keep with Christ and conscience — was it boldness Or weakness that won there 1 when I, their Queen, Cast myself down upon my knees before them. And those hard men brake into woman tears, E'en Gardiner, all amazed, and in that passion Gave me my crown. Be-enter Alice, (ivalking to her, sharplg) Girl ! hast thou ever heard Slanders against Prince Pliilip in our Court"? Alice {confused). What slanders 1 I, your Grace ] no, never. Mary {eagerly). Nothing 1 Alice Never, your Grace. Mary {sternly). See that you neither hear them nor repeat ! {crosses to r.) Alice {aside). Good Lord ! but 1 have heard a thousand such. Ay, and repeated them as often — mum ! Re-enter Renard, c. d., ivith letter. Why comes that old fox-Fleming back again"? -ACT I.] QUEEN MARY. 37 Rex. {bowing and advancitig). Madam, I scarce had left your Grace's presence Before 1 chanced upon the messenger Who brings that, letter which we waited for — The formal offer of Prince Philip's hand. It craves an instant answer, Ay or No ] AlAr.Y {fagerly). An instant, Ay or No ! The Council sits. Give it me quick, (snolckes it from him.) Alice {stepping befure her), i'our Highness is all trembling. Mary {pushing her aside). Make way. [Exits, c. d. Alice (l c). 6, Master Renard, Master Renard, If you have falsely painted your fine Prince — Praised where you should have blamed him, I pray God No woman ovi>r love you, Master Renard. " It breaks my heart to hear her moan at night " As tho' the nightmare never left her bed." Run. (u. c ). My pret'y maiden, tell me, did you ever Sigh for a" beard 1 Alice. That's not a pretty question. Ren, Not prettily put 1 {taking her hand] 1 mean, my pretty maiden, A pretty man for such a pretty maiden. Alice. My Lord of Devon is a pretty man. I hate him. Well, but if I have, what then 1 Ren. Then, pretty maiden, you should know that whether A wind be warm or cold, it serves to fan A kindled fire. Alice. According to the song. " His friends would praise him, I behaved 'em, His toes would blame liiiu, and I scorned 'em, His friends— as angels I received 'em, His foes— the devil had suborn'd 'em." Ren. Peace, pretty maiden, {drops her hand) 1 hear them stirring in the Council Chamber. Lord Paget's " Ay " is sure — who else? and yet They are all too much at odds to close at once In one full throated No 1 Her Highness comes, {crosses l. — Alice to k) Mary enters hiirriedlg, c. d. — she staggers at thethreshold with excitement. Alice. How deathly pale! — a chair, your Highness, {springs forward and brings one from the table, r. , tvhich she places c, and aa- sists the Queen toioards it.) Ren. {eagerli/, advancing toioards her). Madam, The Council ? Mary {with trium2)h). Ay ! My Philip is all mine. Sinks into chair, half fainting, Alice drops on her knees, R., clasping the Queen's arm, Renard, l. c, ivith a calm, sardonic smile, folds his arms and stands erect. 38 QUKEN MARY. [.VCT II. ^CT ir. SCENE l.—AllinfftoH Castle. Sir Thomas Wyatt enters, l. 1 e. Wtatt. I do not hear from Carew or tlie Duke Of Suffolk, and till then I should not move. The Duke halh gone to Leicester;* Carew stirs In D<3von ;f that fine porcelain Couilonny, Save that he fears he might be craek'd in using (I have known a semi-madman in mj' time So fancy ridd'n), should be in Devon too. Enter William, e. 1. e. News abroad, William 1 {bells are heard ringing in the distance ) William. None so new, Sir Thomas, and none so old, Sir Tiiomas. No new news that Philip comes to wed Mary, no old news that all men hate it,. Old Sir Thomas would have hated it The bells are ringing at Maidstone.:): Doesn't your worship hear ] Wf ATT. Ay, for the saints are come to reign again. Most like it is a saint's-day. There's no call As yet for me ; so in this pause, before The mine be fired, it were a pious work To string my father's sonnets, left about Like loosely-scatter'd Jewels, in fair order. And iiead them with a lamer rhyme of mine, To grace his memory. WiL Ay, why not. Sir Thomas ? He was a fine courtier, he ; Queen Anno'J loved him. All the women loved him. I loved him, I was in Spain with him. I couldn't eat in Spain, I couldn't sleep in Spain. I hate Spain, Sir Thomas. Wyatt (sli/lg). But thou couldst drink in Spain, if I remember. WiL. {dryhj). Sir Thomas, we may grant the wine. Old Sir Thomas always granted the wine. Wyatt. Hand me the casket with my father's sonnets. (William reachrs a portfolio from the book-case, and hands it to Wyatt.) WiL. Ay — sonnets — a fine courtier of the old court, old Sir Thomas. [Exit, R. 1 E. Wyatt. Courtier of many courts, he loved the more His own gray towers, plain life and letter'd peace, To read and rhyme in solitary fields, The lurk above, the nightingale below. And answer them in song. The sire begets Not half his likeness in the son. I fail Where he was fullest ; yet — to write it down, (lie sits al table, R., and writes. Re-enter William, hurriedly, WiL. There is news, there is news, and no call for sonnet-sorting now, * The principal town in Leicestershire, one of the counties of England. t An abbreviation of Devonshire, another county. X Tlie chief to'^vn in Kent, another county. § Alluding to one of tl:e wives of King Henry the Eighth. ACT II,] QUKKN^ MAKY. 39 nor for sonneUmakinst either, but ten thousjiid men on Penenden Healli* :i!l callins after your worship, and your worship's name heard into Maidstone market, and your worsiiip tlie first man in Kent and Cl)ristendoni, for tlie workl's up, and your worsiiip a-top of it. Wyatt. Inverted ^sop — mountain out of mouse. Say for ten thousand ten — and ])othouse knaves, Brain-dizzied witli a drauglit of morning ale. Enter Antony Knyvett, qiiicklij, l. 1 e. " WiL. Here's Antony Knyvett." Knyvett. Look you, Master Wyatt, Tear up tliat woman's work there. Wyatt (^calmlij plnclng his hand over the papers). No; not these. Dumb cliildren of my father, tliat will speak When I and thou and all rebellion lie Dead bodies without voice. Song tiies you know For a^es. Kny. Tut, your soimet's a flying ant, Wing'd for a moment. Wyatt. Well, for mine own work, (^rising and tearincj up the paper) It lies there in six pieces at your feet; For all that 1 can carry it in my head {advances ) Kny. (l. c ). If you can carry your head upon your shoulders. Wyatt (c). I fear you come to carry it off' my shoulders, And sonnet making's .^afer. Kny. Why, good Lord, Write you as many sonnets as you will Ay, but not now ; " what, have you eyes, ears, brains 1 " Tliis Philip and the black-faced swarms of Spain, " The hardest, crudest people in the world, "Come locusting upon us, eat us up, " Confiscate lands, goods, money " — Wyatt, Wyatt, Wake, or the stout old island will become • A rotten limb of Spain. They roar for you On Penenden Heath, a thousand of them — moie — All arm'd, waiting a leader ; there's no glory Like his who saves his country : and you sit Sins-sonsing here; but, if I'm any judge. " My God," you are as poor a poet, Wyatt, As a good soldier. Wyatt. You as poor a critic As an honest friend : you stroke n>e on one cheek, Buffet the other. " Come, you bluster, Antony! " You know I know all this." I must not move Until I hear from C.irew and the Dnke. I fear the mine is fired before the time. Kny. {showing a piaper). But here's some Hebrew. "Faith, I half for- got it." Look ; can you make it English 1 A strange youth Suddenly thrust it on me, whisper'd, "Wyatt," And whiskins round a corner, show'd his back Before I read his face. Wyatt {taking it). Ha! Courtenay's cipher, {reads.) * The n:iim ot .i large common or tract of open Ian 1 used aa a meeting ground in the vicinity oi Ivtaidstone. 40 QUEEN MAKSr. [aCT 11. " Sir Peter Carew tied to France : it is thougliL the Duke will be taken. I am with you still ; but, for appearance's sake, stay willi tlie Queen. Gardiner knows, but the Council are all at odds, and the Queen luiLh no force for resistance. Move, if you move, at once." (wilhencryi/, thruslinc/ the 2iaper in his pocket.) " Is Peter Carew fled 1 Is the Duke taken ? " Down scabbard, and out swoi'd ! and let Rebellion Roar till throne rock, and croun fall. No, not that; But we will teach Queen Mary how to reign, {shoicls at back) Who are those that shout below there 1 K.NY. Why, some fifty That follow'd me from Penenden Heath in hope To hear you spsak. AVyATT. 0,)en the window, Kny vett ; The mine is fired, and I will speak to them. (Knyvett throws open window and the scene at the hack represents the heads and shoulders of a number of persons assembled. Wyatt draws near to the window. Murmurs and applause during the speech.) Men of Kent; England of England; "you that have kept your old "customs upright, while all the rest of En^^Iand bow'd theirs to the " Norman," the cause that hath brouoht us losether is not the cause of a county or a slure, but of this En^^land, in whose crown our Kent is the fairest jewel. Philip shall not wed Mary ; and ye have called me to be your leader. I know Spain. I have been tiiere with my father ; 1 have sean them in their own land ; have marked the haughtiness of tlieir nobies; the cruelty of their priests. If this man marry our Queen, however the Council and the Commons may fence round his power with restriction, he will be KIoh, King of England, my masters; and the Queen, and the laws, and the people, his slaves. What 1 shall we have Spiin on the tinone and in the parliamenf- ; Spain in the i)ul- ■pit and on the law bench ; Spain in all the groat offices of stat'^ ; Si)ain i 1 our ships, in our forls, in our houses, in our beds ] Crowd. No, no ! no Spain. WiL. (r., horri_fied). No Spain in our beds — that were worse than all. I have been there with old Sir Thomas, and the beds I know. I hate Spain. '• A Peasant. But, Sir Thomas, must we levy war against the Queen's Grace ? Wyatt. "No, my friend; war for the Queen's Grace — to save her " from herself and Philip — war against Spain. And " think not we shall be alone — thousands will flock to us. The Council, the Court itself, is on our side. The Lord Chancellor himself is on our side. The King of France " is with us ;" the King of Denmark " is with us ;" the world is v.ith us — war against Spain ! " And if we move not now, yet it will be " known that we have moved ; and if Philip come to be King, 0, my " God I the rope, the rack, the thumb-screw, the stake, tlie fire." If we move not now, Sp lin moves, bribes our nobles with her gold, and creeps, creei>s snake-like about our legs till we cannot move at all ; " and ye know, ray masters, tliat " wlierever Spain hath ruled she hath wither'd all beneath her. " Look at the New \\ orld — a paradise made hell ; the " red man, that good, helpless creature, starved, maim'd, flogg'd, flay'd, " burn'd, boil'd, buried alive, worried by dogs; and here, nearer home, "the Netherlands, Sicily, Naples, Lombardy." I say no more — "only " this, their lot is yours." Forward to London witli me ! forward to London ! If yo love your libciiio:; or your skins, forward to London 1 Crowd. Forwar.l to London! A V/valL ! a Wvatt! ACT II.] QUKKN llART. 41 Wyatt. But first to Rocliester,* to take the guns Froiu oat the vessels lying in the river. Then on. A Peasant. Ay but I fear we be too few, Sir Thomas. " Wyatt. Not many yet. Tlie world as yet, my friend, " Is not half waked ; but every parish tower " Shall clang and clash alarum as we pass, "And pour along the land, and swoH'n nnd fed " With indraughts and side currents, in lull force " Roll upon London." Crowd. A Wyatt 1 a Wyatt ! Forward! {tJie sJwuts graduallij lessen.) Kny. Wyatt, sliall we proclaim Elizabeth? Wyatt [coming forward). I'll think upon it, Knyvett. Kny. Or Lady Jane 1 Wyatt. No, poor soul ; no. Ah, gray old caslle of Allington, green field Beside the brimming Medwa}', it may chance That I shall never look u()on \'(iu mo: o. Kny. Come, now, you're sonneting a^aiu. Wyatt. Not I. I'll have ray head set hi:;hcr in tha state ; Or — ifthe Lord God will it — an the stake. [Exeunt, l. 1 e. SCENE W.— Guildhall. ■\ Sir Tuomas Wuith {llu Lord liLiyor), Lord AVilliam Howard, Sir. Ralpu Bagenhall, Aldermen, and Citizens are discovm-.t. White (c). I trust the qusen conies hither with her guards. Howard (l. c). Ay, ail in arms, i^-' several of the Citizv.^?:, mors h-.is- tihj out of the hall. ) "Wliy do they hurry out there ? " White. Jly Lord, cut out the rotten from your apple, " Your apple eats the better. Let them go. " They go like those old Pharisees in John *' Convicted by their conscience, arrant cowards, " Or tamperers with that treason out of Kent. " When will her Grace be here "? " Howard." In some few minutej. She will address your guilds and companies. I have striven in vain to raise a man for her. But help her in this exigency, make Your city loyal, and be the mightiest man This day in England. AVniTE i^proudUj'). I am Thomas White. Few things have fail'd to which I set my will. I do my most and best. Howard. You know that after The Captain Brett, who went with your train bands To fight with Wyatt, had gone over to hioi With all his men, the Queen iu that distress Sent Coriuvailis and Hastings to the traitor, * A city in the county of Kent, situate on the banks of the Medway, a river ruQ- ning through the same county. t An ancient building in the centre of the city of London, where the mayor, alder- mea, and citizens transact the city business. It is still in existence. 42 QUEEN MAKY. [aCT II. Feigning to treat with liim about her luarriage — Know too what VVyatt said. White. He'd sooner bo, While tl)is same marriage question was being argued, Trusted than trust — the scoundrel — and demanded Possession of her person and the Tower. Howard. And four of her poor Council, too, my Lord, As hostages. White. I know it. What do and say Your Council at this hour 1 HowAUD. " I will trust you." We fling ourselves on you, my Lord. The Council, Tlie Parliament as well, are troubled waters ; And yet like waters of the fen ihey know not Which way to flow. All hangs on lier address, And upon you, Lord Mayor. White. How look'd the city When now you past iti Quiet? HowAHD. Like our Council, Your city is divided. As we past. Some hail'd, some hiss'd us. " There were citizens " Stood each before his shut-up booth, and look'd " As grim and grave as from a funeral. " And here a knot of ruffians all in rags, " Witli execrating execrable eyes, " Glared at the citizen. Here was a young mother, " Her face on flame, lier red hair all blown back, " She shrilling ' Wyalt," while the boy she held " Mimick'd and piped her " Wyalt," as red as she "In hair and cheek; and almost elbowing her, " So close they stood, another, mute as death, " And white as her own milk ; her babe in arms " Had felt the faltering of his mother's lieart, " And look'd as bloodless. Here a pious Catholic, " Mumbling and jnixing up in his scared prayers " Heaven and earth's Maries ; over his bowd shoulder " Scowl'd that world-hated and world-hating beast, " A haggard Anabaptist. ]\Iany such groups. " The names of Wyatt, Elizabeth, Courlenay, " Nay, the Queen's right lo reign — 'fore God, the rogues — " Were freely buzz'd amon; them." Si> I say Your city is divided, and I fear One scruple, this or that way, of success Would turn it thither. Wherefore now the Queen " In this low pulse and palsy of the state," Bade me to tell you that she counts on you. And on myself as her two hands ; on you. In your own city, as her right, my Lord, For you are loyal. White. Am I Thomas White ? One word before she comes. Elizabelh — " Her name is much abused among these traitors." Where is she ? She is loved by all of us. I scarce have heart to mingle in this matter. If she should be mishandled? Howard. No ; she shall not. The Queen had written her word to come to court ; ACT H.] QUEEN MARY. 43 Metlioiiclit I smelt out llenavd in the letter, Aiul fearing for her, sent a secret missive, Wliicli told her to be sick. Happily or not, It foun;l her sick indeed. White. God send her well ; {Jhurish of trumpets tvithoiU) Her comes her Royal Grace. rS'e ilm-s c, are thrown open — Guauds enter, and form on cither side of the dooiway. Vkgv.?, cuter and fall on either side — then Mary ««rf Gar- diner. Sir Thomas Whith salutes and leads Iter to the raised seat — tJicn kneels. Gardiner stands on her rit/ht hand. Howard, l. of Maisy. Albeuueh and CiTV/.E^is 0}i the l. of f^taffe. Bagenhall in front of them. I, the Lord Mayor, and these our companies And guilds of London, gathered here, beseech Your Highness to accept our lowliest thanks For your most princely presence ; and we pray That we, your true and loyal citizens, From your own royal lips, at once may know The wherefore of this coming, and so learn Your royal will, and do it. — " I, Lord Mayor Of London, and our Guilds and Companies." AFary {waving her hand). In mine own jjcrson am I come to you. To tell you what indeed you see and know, How traitorously these rebels out of Kent Have made strong head against ourselves and you. They would not have me wed the Prince of Spain; That was their pretext — so they spake at first — But we sent divers of our Council to them, And by their answers to the question ask'd, It tloth appear this marriage is the least Or all their quarrel. They have betrayed the treason of their hearts : Seek to possess our person, hold our Tower, Place and displace our councillors, and use Both us and them according as they will. Now what am I ye know right well — your Queen ; To whom, when I was wedded to the realm And the realm's laws "(the spousal ring whereof, " Not ever to be laid aside, I wear " Upon this finger)," ye did promise full Allegiance and obedience to the death. " Ye know my father was the rishtful heir " Of England, and his right came down to me, " Corroborate by your acts of Parliament: " And as ye were most loving unto him, " So, doubtless, will ye show yourselves to me." Wherefore, ye will not brook that any one Should seize our person, occupy our state, More especially a traitor so ])resum[)tuous As this same Wyatt. who hath tamper'd with A public ignorance, and, under color Of such a cause as hath no color, seeks To bend the lav/s to his own will, and yield Full scope to persons rascal and forlorn. To make free spoil and havoc of your goods. 44 aUEEN MAliY. [act II. " Now, as your Prince, I say, "I, that was never mother, cannot tell " How motliers love their children ; yet, methinks, " A prince as naturally may love his people " As these their children ; and be sure your Queen " So loves you, and so loving, needs must deem " This love by you relurii'd as heartily ; " And thro' this common knot and bond of love, " Doubt not they will be speedily overthrown." As to this marriage, ye shall luiderstaud We made thereto no treaty of ourselves, And set no foot theretoward unadvised Of all our Privy Council ; furthermore, This marriage had the assent of those to whom The king, my father, did commit his trust; Who not alone esteem'd it honorable. But for the wealth and glory of our realm. And all our loving subjects, most expedient. " As to mysulf, " I am not so set on wedlock as to choose " But wliere I list, nor yet so amorous " Thnt 1 must needs be husbanded ; I thank God, " I have lived a virgin, and I noway doubt " But that with God's grace, 1 can live so still. " Yet if it might please God that I should leave " Some fruit of mine own body after me, " To be your king, ye would rejoice thereat, " And it would be your comfort, as 1 trust ; " And" trulj', if I either thought or knew This marriage should bring loss or danger to you. My subjects, or impair in any way This royal state of England, I would never Consent thereto, nor marry while I live ; " Moreover, if this marriage should not seem, " Before our own high Court of Parliament, ' " To be of rich advantage to our realm, " We will refrain, and not alone from this, " Likewise from any other, out of which " Looms the least chance of peril to our realm." AVherefore be bold, and with your lawful Prince Stand fast against our enemies and yours, And fear them not. I fear them not. My Lord, I leave Lord William Howard in your city, To guard and keep you whole and safe from all The spoil and sackage aim'd at by these rebels. Who mouth and foam against the Prince of Spain. Voices of Citizens. Long live Queen Mary ! Down with Wyatt ! The Queen ! White {turning towards them and waving his hand for attenlion), " Tliree voices from our guilds and companies ! " You are shy and proud like Englishmen, my masters, " And will not trust your voices. Understand ; " Your lawful Prince hath come to cast herself " On loyal hearts and bosoms, hoped to fall " Into the wide-spread arms of fealty, " And finds you statues." Speak at once — and all ! Cl II. J QUKKN MAlil'. 45 For wlioni 7 " Oiiv Soverel;;n Lad}- by KinjT Harry's will ; " Tlie Queen of England — or the Kentish Squire 1 " I know you loyal. Speak ! in the name of God ! " The Queen of England or the rabble of Kenti The reeliing dungfork master of tlie mace ! Your havings wasted by the scythe and spado — i'our rights and charters hobnail'd into slush — Your houses fired — your gutters bubbling blood Acclamation. No 1 no ! The Queen ! the Queen ! Whitii; {turn'nig foicards Mary). Your Highness hcav i This burst and bass of loyal harmony, " And how we each and all of us abhor " The venomous, bestial, devilish revolt " Of Thomas Wyatt." Hear us now make oath To raise your Highness thirty thousand men, And arm and strike as with one hand, and brush This Wyatt from our shoulders, like a flea That might have leapt upon lis unawares, {funnug round) Swear with me, noble fellow-citizens, " all, " With all your trades, and guilds, and companies." Citizens. We swear ! ^ Maey. We thank your Lordship and your loyal city, [Exit Maky and Gardiner, c. d., attended bi/ the Gctards. White {advancing c). I trust this day, thro' God, I have .saved the crown. Fins I' Alderman (l ). Ay, so my Lord of Pembroke in command Of all her force be safe ; but there are doubts. Second Alderman (l.). I hear that Gardiner, coming with the Quern, And meeting Pembroke, bent to his saddle-bow, As if to win the man by flattering him. Is he so safe to fight ui)on her side ] First Ald. If not, there's no man safe. White. Yes, Thomas White. I am safe enough ; no man need flatter me. Second Ald. Nay, no man need ; but did you mark our Queen The color freely play'd into her face, And the half sight which makes her look so stern, Seem'd thro' that dim dilated world of hers, To read our faces ; I have never seen her So queenly or so goodly. " White. Courage, sir, " That makes or man or woman look their goodliest. " Die like the torn fox dumb, but never whine "Like that poor heart, Northumb.°rland, at the b'ock. " Bagenhall. The man had children, and he whined for those. " Methinks most men are but poor-hearted, else " Should we so dote on courage, were it commoner 1 " The Queen stands up, and speaks for her own self; " And all men cry, she is queenlj', she is goodly. " Yet she's no goodlier; tho' my Lord Mayor lK>re, "By his own rule, he hath been so bold to-day, " Should look more goodly than t!ie rest of us." White {with energy). G^mdly 1 I feel most goodiy heart and hand, '' And strong to throw ten Wyatts and all Kent. Ha, ha, sir! but you jest; I love it: a jest In time of danger shows the pulses even. 46 QUEEN MARY. [aCT II. Be merry 1 yet, Sir Ralph, you look but sad. I dare avouch you'd stand up for yourself, Tho' all the world should bay like winter wolves. Bag. Who knows 1 the man is i)roveti by the hour. WniTE. Tii3 man shouhl make the hour, not this the man ; " And Thomas While will ])rove tiii.s Thomas WyaLt, " And he will prove an Idon to this Cade, "And he will j)lay the Walworth to this Wat."* Come, sirs, we prate ; hence all — gather your men — Myself must bustle. Wyatt comes to Southwark ; I'll have the drawbridge hewn into the Thames, And see tlie citizen arm'd. Good day ; good day. [Erit White, Aldekmen «w^ Citizens, c. d. Bag. One of much out-door bluster. Howard. For all that, Most honest, brave, and skillful ; " and his wealth " A fountain of perennial alms " — his fault So thorouirhly to believe in his own self. Bag. Yet thoroughly to believe in one's own self, So one's own self be thorough, were to do Great things, my Lord. Howard. It may be. Bag. I have heard One of your council fleer and jeer at him. Howard. The nursery-cocker'd child will jeer at aught That may seem strange beyond his nursery. The statesman that sliall jeer and fleer at men. Makes enemies for himself and for his king ; And if he jeer not seeing the true man Behind his folly, he is thrice the fool ; And if he sees the man and still will jeer, He is child and fool, and traitor to the slate. " Who is he ] Let me shun him. " Bag. Nay, my Lord, " He is damned enough already. 'Howard." I must set The guard at Ludgate. Fare you well, Sir Ralpli. [Exit, c. d. Bag. "Who knows?" I am for England. But who knows, That knows the Queen, the Spaniard, and the Pope. Whether I be for Wyatt, or the Queen ? [E.i-il, c. d. SCENE III— London Bridge. Enter Sib Thomas Wyatt and Brett, l. 1 e. WvATT, Brett, when the Duke of Norfolk moved against us * Alluding to rebellions which occurred in previous reigns, the Icadcr.s of which were Jack Cade, and Wat Tyler. The latter wa-i invited to meet the Kin^,', Richard tho Second, in London, to confer as to a redress of tlie grievances complained of, and the meeting took place m an open spot called Smitlifleld. Tyler, who was a black- smith, was so insulting and overbearing in liis manner to the King, as to rouse the indignation of the Lord Mayor, William Wahvorlli, who stunned him with a blow of his macs, and one of the King's knights rifling up dispatched him with his sword. The rebels, seeing their leader fall, prepared lo lake revenge, and bent their bows, but the King, though only sixteen years old, witli admirable presence of mind, rode up to them and cried out, " What, my people, will you kill your king ! I will be your leader, follow mo into the field and you shall have whatever you desire." They did so, and he granted them a charter redressing their grievances, which, however, was shortly afterwards revoked in Parliament. ACr II. J QTJEEN MARY. 47 Tliou criedst " a Wyatt," and flying to our side Loft his all bare, for wiiich I lovo thee, Brett. Have for thiiio askings an;^lit tliat I cm give, For thro' tliiiie helj) we are come to London Bridge? But how to cross it balks nie. I fear we cannot. Brett. Nay, hardly, save by boat, swimming, or wings. Wyatt. Last night I climb'd into the gate-liouse, Brett, And scared the gray old i)orter and his wife, And then I cre[)t along the gloom and saw They had hewn the drawbridge down into tiio river. " I( roll'd as black as death ; and tiiat same tide "Which, coming with our coming, seem'd to smile " And sparkle like our fortune aS thou saidest, " Ran suidess down, and moan'd against the piers." But o'er the chasm I saw Lord William Howard •By torchliaht, and his guard ; four guns gaped at me, Black, silent mouths : had Howard spied me Ihere And made them s{)eak, as well he might have done, Their voice had left me none to tell j^ou this. What shall we do 1 Brett. On somehow. To go back Were to lose all. Wyatt. On over London Bridge We cannot : stay, we cannot ; there is ordnance On the White Tower and on the Devil's Tower,* And pointed full at Southwark -jf we must round By Kingston Bridge.:}: Brett. Ten miles about. Wyatt. E'en so. But I have notice from our partisans Within the city that they will stand by us If Ludgate^^ can be reach'd by dawn to-morrow. Enter one of Wyatt's i\Ien, with paper tvritiiiff, l. 1 e. Man. Sir Thomas, I've found this paper, pray, your worship, loail it; I know not my letters ; the old jniesls taught me nothing. Wyatt {lakes U and reads). " Whosoever will apprehend the traitor, Thomas Wyatt, shall have a hundred pounds for reward." iMa.\. Is that itl That's a big lot of money. W YATT. Ay, ay, my friend ; not read it 1 'tis not written Half ])lain enough. Give me a piece of paper ! {writes " Thomas Wyatt " large.) There, any man can read that, {stieh.i it in his cap, and strides «;; and down.) Buett. But that's foolhardy. Wyaxt. No! boldness which will give ray followers boldness. * Two portions of the Tower of London, a strong fortress at tho period of tlie drama, ou ttie city side of the river Tliuuies. t Tlie name of a portion of London on tlic opposite side of the river. } Kingston is (tie name of a town twelve or fourteen miles from London, up tiio river 1 hames. It is now a very large iilace, but at tlic period of the play was a veiy small one, and there was no bridge across the river between there and Ijondon— now there are a dozen or more. People were taken across in small row boats and barj^es. §The n.iino of one of the streets in the city of London leading ujj to St. Paul'f) Cross or Cathedral. 48 QUEEN MART. [aCT II. Enter Man ivith a ^yrisoncr, l. 1 e. Man. We found him, your worship, a plundering o' Bishop Winclics- ler's liouse; he says he's a poor gentleman. Wyatt (u. c). Gentleman, a thief! Go hang him. Sliall wc raaUo Those that we come to serve our sharpest foes ? Brktt. Sir Thomas Wyatt. Hang him, I say. Brett. Wyatt, but now you promised me a boon. Wyatt. Ay, and I warrant this fine fellow's life. Brett. E'en so ; he was my neighbor once in Kent. He's poor enough, has dnmk and gambled out All that he had, and gentleman he was. We liave been glad together; let him live. Wyatt. He has gambled for his life, and lost, he hanss. No, no, my word's my word. Take thy poor gentleman ! Gamble thyself at once out of my sight, Or I will dig thee with my dagger. Away I \Exit both the men and prisoner, l. 1 e. " Women and children ! " Enter a eroivd of Women find Children. " First Woman. 0, Sir Thomas, Sir Thomas, pray you go away, Sir "Thomas, or you'll make the Wiiite Tower a black 'un for us this bless- " ed day. He'll be the death on us ; and you'll set the Divil's Tower a- " spitting, and he'll smash all our bits o' things worse than Philip o' " Spain. " Second Woman. Don't ye now go to think that we be for Philip o' " Spain. " Third Woman. No, we know that ye be come to kill the Queen, and " we'll pray for you all on our bended knees. But o' God's mercy don't " ye kill the Queen here. Sir Thomas ; look ye, here's little Dickon, "and little Robin, and little Jenny — though she's but a side cousin — " and all on our knees, we pray you to kill the Queen farther off, Sir " Thomas. " Wyatt. My friends, I have not come to kill the Queen " Or here or there ; I come to save you all, " And I'll go farther off. "Crowd. Thanks, Sir Thomas, we be beholden to j^ou, and we'll pray " for you on our bended knees till our lives' end. 'Wyatt. Be happy, I am your friend." To Kingston, forward! [Exeunt, r. 1 e. SCENE IV. — Boom in the Gatehouse of Westminster Palace. Mary c, Alice r. c, Gardiner l. c, Renard l., Ladies k., discovered as the scene opens. Alice. madam, if Lord Pembroke should be false 1 Mary {Jirmhi). No, girl ; most brave and loyal, brave and loyal. His breaking with Northumberland broke Northumberland. At the park gate he hovers with our guards. These Kentish ploughmen cannot break the guards. Enter Messenger, hurriedly, r. 1 e., cap in hand. ACT II. J QUKEN MAUr. 49 Messenger {after saluting). Wyatt, j'our Grace, hath bi'oken thro' the guards And gone to Luilgate. (Mary starts, but remains firm.) [Messenger salutes and exits, K. 1 E. Gard. Madam, I much fear That all is lost ; hut we can save your Grace. The river still is free. I do beseech you, There yet is time, take boat and pass to Windsor.* Maby (sternly and bitterly). I pass to Windsor and I lose my crown. Garb. Pass, then, I pray your Highness, to the Tower.f Maky. I shall but be their prisoner in the Tower. Cries {without at back). The traitor ! treason ! Pembroke ! luKov^s. [alarmed). Treason! "treason!" Mary {firmly). Peace. False to Northumberland, is he false to me 1 Bear witness, Renard, that I live and die The true and faithful bride of Philip. — A sound {clamorous noise without, and knocking at wooden gates) Of feet and voices thickening hither — blows — Hark, there is battle at the palace gates. And I will out upon the gallery, {makes a move towards window.) Ladies {intereefiting). No, no, your Grace ; see there the arrows flying. Mary {waving them back with commanding dignity, and drawinri herself up to her full height). I am Hany's daughter, Tudor, and not fear, {goes out on the gallery) The guards are all driven in, skulk into corners Like rabbits to their holes. A gracious guard Truly ; shame on them, they have shut the gates! Enter Sir Robert Southwell, l. 1 e. So0THWEiiL {saluting). The porter, please your Grace, hath shut the gates On friend and foe. Your gentlemen-at-arms, If this be not your Grace's order, cry To have the gates set wide again, and they With their good battle-axes will do you right Against all traitors. Mart {veh&mently). They are the flower cvf England ; set the gates wide. [Exit Southwell. Enter Courtenat, excitedly, r. 1 e. Court, (r. c). All lost, all lost, all yielded ; a barge, a barge ; The Queen nlu.^t to the Tower. Mary {firmly and calmly) Whence come you, sirl Court. From Charing Cross •,% the rebels broke us there, And I sped hither with what haste I might To save my royal cousin. Mary {eagerly). Where is Pembroke 1 Court. I left him somewhere in the thick of it. * A town about twenty miles from London, -with a strong castle, used as one of the royal residencss ; celebrated also for a masniflcent park. t A fortress on the banks of the Thames, then used as a prison for traitors and a garrison for troops. X A village in the suburbs of London, but now one of the great central spots in the heart of it. 50 QUEEN MART. [aCT II. M.A.B.T {bitterhj, advancing ta c). Left him and fled; and thou that wouldst be king, And hast nor heart nor honor. I myself Will down into the battle and there bide The upshot of my quarrel, or die with those That are no cowards and no Courtenays. She waves her hand; Gpaeds enter, r. and l. 1 e., and range up the stage each side. Co0BT. I do not love your Grace should call me coward, {hows and draws back.) Enter another Messenger, hurriedly, cap in Jiand, l. 1 e. Messenger. Over, your Grace, all crush'd ; (Mary staHs, clenches her hand convulsively, and smiles with joy) The brave Lord William Thrust him from Ludgate, and the traitor flying To Temple Bar, there by Sir Maurice Berkeley Was taken prisoner. Mart (c. — sternly). To the Tower with him .' Mes. 'Tis said he told Sir Maurice there was one Cognizant of this, and party thereunto, My Lord of Devon. Mary, To the Tower with Am/ Court. •' la, the Tower," the Tower, always the Tower; I shall grow into it — I shall be the Tower. Mary {sarcasHcalltj). Your Lordship may not have so long to wait. Remove him ! Court. " La," to whistle out my life, And carve my coat upon the walls again ! [Exit CouRTENAY, K. 1 E., guarded. Mes. Also this Wyatt did confess the Princess Cognizant thereof, and party thereunto. Mary {startled and breathless). What 1 whom — whom did you say 1 Mes. Elizabeth, Your royal sister. Mary. To the Tower with her ! (with forcible dignity, raising herself erect) My foes are at my feet and I am Queen. (Gardiner and her Ladies kneel to her.) Gard. {rising). There let them lie, your footstool ! {aside) Can I strike Elizabeth ? — not now and save the life Of Devon ; if I save him, he and his Are bound to me — may strike hereafter, {aloud) Madam, What Wyatt said, or what they said he said, Cries of the moment and the street Mary, He said it, Gard, Your courts of justice will determine that. Ren. {who all this time has been standing to the l. of the window calmly and keenly watching all going on, now advances slowly, and speaks smoothly and softly). I trust by this your Highness will allow Some spice of wisdom in my telling yon, When last we talk'd, that Philip would not come ACI III.] QUEEN MAET. 51 Till Guildford Diulley and the Duke of Suffolk And Lady Jane bad left us. Mary. They shall die. Ren. And your so loving sister 1 Mary (Jirm!;/ and sfcrnli/). She shall die. My foes are at my feet, and Philip King. With force and pride — head throivn bach—fujurc erect — foiniing her right hand to the ground. Renard crosses his arms, and smiks sardonically. Tableau. — The Act drop descends slowly. ACT III. SCENE I. — The conduit in Gracechurch, painted with the Nine Worthies, among them King Henry VIII. holding a book, on it inscribed " Verbum Dei." Enter Sir Ralph Bagenhall, l. 1 ■E..,folloived bySm Thomas Stafford, who draws aside. Bag. {meditating, c ) A hundred here and hundreds hang'd in Kent. The tiaiess had unsherith'd her nails at last, And Renard and the Cliancellor sharpen'd them. In every London street a gibbet stood. They are down to-day. Here by this house was cue ; The traitor husband dangled at the door, And when the tiaitor wife came out for bread To still the petty treason tberewithin, Her cap would brush his heels. Stafford (aside). It is Sir Ralph, And muttering to himself as heretofore. {aloud, advancing) Sir, see you aught up yonder 1 Bag. I miss something. The tree that only bears dead fruit is gone, Staf. (l. c). What tree, sir 1 Bag. Well, the tree in Virgil, sir, That bears not its own apples. Staf. What! the gallows "? Bag. Sir, this dead fruit was ripening overmuch, And had to be removed lest living Spain Should sicken at dead England. Staf. Not so dead, But that a shock may rouse her. Bag. {scrutinizing him). I believe Sir Thomas Stafford 1 Staf. I am ill disguised. Bag. Well, are you not in peril here ? Staf. I think so. I came to feel the pulse of England, whether It beats hai'd at this marriage. " Did you see if? " Bag. Stafford, I am a sad man and a serious. " Far liefer had I in my country hall " Been reading some old book, with mine old hound ■52 auEEN iiAur. [act hi. " Couch'd at my liearih, and mine old flask of wine " Beside me, than have seen it, yet 1 saw il. " Staf. Good," was it splendid 1 Bag. Ay, if dukes, and earls, And counts, and sixty Spanish cavaliers. Some six or seven bishops, diamonds, pearls, That royal commonplace too, cloth of gold, Could make it so. Staf. And what was Mary's dress 1 Bag. Good faith, I was too sorry for the woman To mark the dress. She wore red shoes !* Staf. Red shoes ! Bag. Scarlet, as if her feet were wasli'd in blood, As if she had waded in it. Staf. Were your eyes So bashful that you look'd no higher 1 Bag. a diamond, And Philip's gift, as proof of Philip's love. Who hath not any for any — tho' a true one. Blazed false upon her heart. Staf. But this proud Prince Bag. Nay, he is King, you know, the King of Naples. The father ceded Naples, that the son Being a King, might wed a Queen — he Flamed in brocade — white satin his trunk hos?, Inwrought with silver — on his neck a collar. Gold, thick with diamonds ; hanging down from this The Golden Fleecef — and round his knee, misplaced, Our English Garter,:|: studded with great emeralds. Rubies, I know not what. Have you had enough Of all this gear 1 Staf. Ay, since you hate the telling it. How look'd the Queen 1 Bag. No fairer for her jewels. And I could see that as the new-made couple Came from the Minster,<) moving side by side Beneath one canopy, ever find anon She cast on him a vassal smile of love, Which Philip with a glance of some distaste. Or so methought, return'd. I may be wrong, sir. This marriage will not hold. " Staf. I think with you. " The King of France will help to break it. "Bag. France! " We once had half of France, and hurl'd our battles " Into the heart of Spain ; but England now * Typical of her popish principles. t A Spanish decoration of honor. t The highest order of honor in England. It was instituted in the reijrn of Kinjf Edward the I'hird, the number of members consisuug of twenty-four persons besides the King. The motto of the order is " Honi soit qui mal y pense,"'— evil be to liim who evil thinks As the story runs, an accident {rave rise to the establishment of tliis order. The Countess of Salisbury was at a ball, when one of her t'arters loosened and fell on the floor— the King perceiving it, stepped forward and picked it up, hand- ing it to her with the above words. § Westminster Abbey, a magnificent and ancient structure on the banks of the Thames, wherein the English monarchs are crowned. ACT III.] QUEEN MAET. 53 " Is but a ball chuck'd between France and Spain, " His in wliose hand slie dio[)S. Harry of Bolingbroke " Had liolpen Richard's tottering throne to stand. " Could Harry have foreseen that all our nobles " Would perisii on tlie civil slaughter-field, " And leave the people naked to the crown, " And the crown naked to the people ; the crown " Female, too! Sir, no woman's regimen " Can save us." We are fallen, and as I think, Never to rise again. Staf. You are too black-blooded. I'd make a move myself to hinder that : I know some lusty fellows there in France. Bag. You would but make us weaker, Thomas Stafford. Wyatt was a good soldier, yet he fail'd. And strengthen'd Philip. Staf. Did not his last breath Clear Courtenay and the Princess from the charge Of being his co-rebels 1 Bag. Ay, but then What such a one as Wyatt says is nothing ; We have no men among us. The new Lords Are quieted with their sop of Abbeylands, And e'en before the Queen's face Gardiner buys them With Philip's gold. All greed, no faith, no courage ! " Why, e'en the haughty prince, Northumberland, " The leader of our Reformation, knelt " And blubber'd like a lad, and on the scaffold "Recanted, and resold himself to Rome." Staf. I swear you do your country wrong, Sir Ralph. I know a set of exiles over there, Dare-devils, that would eat fire and spit it out At Philip's beard ; they pillage Spain already. The French king winks at it. An hour will come When they will sweep her from the seas. " No men 1 " Did not Lord Suffolk die like a true man ? " Is not Lord William Howard a true man 1 " Yea, you yourself, altho' you are black-blooded : " And I, by God, believe myself a man. " Ay, even in the church there is a man — " Cranmer. " Fly, would he not, when all men bade him fly. " And what a letter he wrote against the Pope 1 " There's a brave man, if any. "Bag. Ay; if it hold." Murmurs without, which increase. Citizens and Ckowd enter, l. rr. E. Crowd. God save their Graces ! Staf. Bagenhall, I see The Tudor green and white, (tf-umpets) They are coming now. And here's a crowd as thick as' herring-shoals. Bag. Be limpets to this pillar, or we are torn Down the strong wave of brawlers, [t/iei/ withdraw, l. 1 e.) Crowd. God save their Graces. Procession enters, l, c. e, consisting of Trumpeters, Javelinmen, etc.; 54 QUEEN MAKT. [aCT III. then Spanish and Flemish Nobles intermingled ; passes slowly across, and exits, r. 1 e. Flourish of trumpets. " Staf. Worth seeing, Bagenhall ! These black dog-Dons " Garb tliemselves bravely. Who's the long face there, " Looks very Spain of very Spain 1 " Bag. The Duke " Of Alva, an iron soldier. " Staf. And the Dutchman, " Now laughing at some jest 1 " Bag. William of Orange, " William the Silent. " Staf. Why do they call him so 1 " Bag. He keeps, they say, some secret that may cost " Philip his life. " Staf. But then he looks so merry. " Bag. I cannot tell you why they call him so." Guakds, the King and Queen, attended by Gardiner, Peers of the Realm, Officers of State, Pages, ete., enter, l. u. e., and pass across sloivly to a. 1 e., and exit, amidst shouting and waving of caps. Crowd. Philip and Mary ! Philip and Mary ! " Long live the King and Queen, Philip and Mary ! " Staf. They smile as if content with one another. Bag. a smile abroad is oft a scowl at home. First Cit. (c). I thought this Philip had been one of those black devils of Spain, but he hath a yellow beard. Second Cit. Tl. c). Not red like Iscariot's. First Cit. Like a carrot's, as thou sayst, and English carrot's better than Spanish licorice ; but I thought he was a beast. Third Cit. (r. c). Certain I had heard that every Spaniard carries a tail like a devil under his trunk hose. Tailor (l.). Ay, but see what trunk hoses! Lord! they be fine ; I never stitch'd none such. They make amends for the tails. Fourth Cit. (r.). Tut! every Spanish priest will tell you that all English heretics have tails. Fifth Cit. (r.). Death and the devil — if he find I have one Fourth Cit. Lo ! thou hast call'd them up ! here they come — a pale horse for death and Gardiner for the devil. Enter Gardiner, r. 1 e. ('having turned hach from the procession ) , acconi- jmnicd by two Attendants. Gabd. (crossing ove?-). Knave, wilt thou wear thy cap before the Queen ^ Man (l.). My Lord, I stand so squeezed among the crowd I cannot lift my hands unto my head. Gard. Knock off his cap there, some of you about him ! {it isknoched off) See, there be others that can use their hands. Thou art one of Wyatt's men 1 ^^'AN. No, my Lord, no. Gard. Thy name, thou knave 1 Man. I am nobody, my Lord. Gard. {shouting and threatening). " God's passion ! " knave, thy name 1 Man. I have ears to hear. Gard. Ay, rascal, if I leave thee ears to hear. Find out his name and bring it me. (to Attendant.) ACX III.] QUEEN MAKY. 55 " Attendant. Ay, my Lord. " Gard." Knave, tliou slialt lose thine ears and find thy tongue, And shalt be tliankful if I leave thee that, {^pausing, and then looking round) " The conduit painted — the nine worthies — ay ! " But then what's herel King Harry with a scroll. " Ha — Verbuta Dei — verbuni — word of God ! " God's passion ! do you know tlie knave that painted it 1 " Attendant. I do, my Lord. " Gard. Tell him to paint it out, " And put some fresh device in lieu of it — " A pair of gloves, a pair of gloves, sir ; ha 1 " There is no heresy there. " Attendant. I will, my Lord. " The man shall paint a pair of gloves. I am sure " (Knowing t!)e man) he wrought it ignorantly, " And not from any malice. "Gard. Word of God " In English ! over this the brainless loons, " That cannot spell Esaias from St. Paul, " Make tliemselves drunk and mad, fly out and flare " Into rebellions. I'll have their Bibles burnt. " Tlie Bible is the priest's." Ay ! fellow, what ! Stand staring at me ! shout, you gaping rogue. Man. I have, my Lord, shouted till I am hoarse. Gard. What hast thou shouted, knave 1 Man. Long live Queen Mary ! Gard. Knave, there be two. There be both King and Queen, Philip and Mary. Shout. Man. {expostulating). Nay, but, my Lord, The Queen comes first — Mary and Philip. Gard. Shout, then, Mary and Philip. Man. Mary and Philip ! Gard. Now, Thou hast shouted for thy pleasure, shout for mine ! Philip and Mary ! Man. Must it be so, my Lord ? Gard. Ay, knave. Man. Philip and Mary ! Gard. I distrust thee. Thine is a half voice and a lean assent. " What is thy name ? " Man. Sanders. " Gard. What else 1 " Man. Zorubbabel. " Gard. Where dost thou live ? "Man. In Cornhill. " Gard. Where, knave, where 1 " Man. Sign of the Talbot. " Gard." Come to me to-morrow. — Rascal ! — this land is like a hill of fire, One crater opens when another shuts. But so I get the laws against the heretic. Spite of Lord Paget and Lord William Howard, And otliers of our Parliament, revived, I will show fire on my side — stake and fire — 66 QUEEN MAKT. [aCT III. Sharp work and short. The knaves are easilj' cow'd. Follow their Majesties. [£xi(, R. 1 IS. — Attendants, Citizens, nnd Crowd following. Bag. {ntlmiiciiiff, to c). A« i>roud as Becket.* Staf. You would not have him murdered as Becket was"? Bag. No — murder fathers murder; but I say There is no man — there was one woman with us — It was a sin to love her marriedj dead I cannot choose but love her. Staf. Lady Jane ?f Crowd {without). God save their Graces. ' Staf. Did you see her die 7 " Bag. No, no ; her innocent blood had blinded me. " You call me too black-blooded — true enough " llfv dark dead blood is in my heart with mine. " If ever I cry out against the Pope " Her dark dead blood that ever moves with mine " Will stir the living tongue and make the cry. " Staf. Yet doubtless you can toll me how she died ? " Bag. Seventeen — and knew eight languages — in music "Peerless — her needle perfect, and her learning " Beyond the churchmen ; yet so meek, so modest, " So wife-like humble to the trivial boy " Mismatch'd with her for pol'cy ! I have heard " Slie would not take a last farewell of him, " She fear'd it might unman him for his end. " She could not be unman'd — no, nor outwoman'd — " Seventeen — a rose of grace ! " Girl never breathed to rival such a rose ; " Rose never blew that equall'd such a bud. " Staf. Pray you go on. " Bag. She came upon the scaffold, " And said she was coudemu'd to die for treason ; " She had but follow'd the device of those " Her nearest kin ; she tliought they knew the laws. " But for herself, she knew but little law, " And nothing of the titles to the ci'own ; " She had no desire for tliot, and wrung her hands, " And trustad God would save her thro' the blood " Of Jesus Christ alone. " Staf. Pray you go on. "Bag. Then knelt and said the Miserere Mei — " But all in English, mark you ; rose again, "And, when the headsman pray'd lo be forgiven, " Said, ' You will give me my true crown at last, * In the rei^n of King Henry the Second, Thomas a' Becket, the sod of a LanJoa citizen, rose step by step until lie became Archbishop of Canterbury, a dignity second only to that of the sovenngn. But arrogance, revolution and cruelty, led liiai to de- struction. His conduct became so tyrannical, disloyal, and overbearin^'■, that Henry earnestly and openly expressed a wish to be rid of him, which four of liis. attendants overhearing, determined to gratify. Tlipy proceeded to Canterbur r, made their way into Becket's apartments and reproac!i.^d him fiercely for his conduct towards the King. During the altercation, the time for vespers arrived, whither he in^oceeded. unguarded, followed by his unexpected visitors, who, as soon as he reached the altar fell upon and destroyed him by repeated blows on the he;id. A shrine was after- wards erected to his memory, and is still in existence in the cathedral, to mark the spot where he fell. t Alluding to Lady Jane Grey, who, after a brief reign of twelve days, had been deposed and beheaded with her husband and many of her adherents. ACr III.] QUEEN UAKY. 57 " But do it quickly ;" then all wept but she, " Wlio chanijed not color when she saw the block, " But ask'd him, childhke : ' Wiii you take it otf " Before I lay me down V ' No, madam,' he said, " Gaspini? ; and when her innocent eyes were bound, '• She, with her poor blind hands feeling — ' where is it ? " Where is it V You must fancy that which follow'd, " If you have heart to do it ! "CltowD {in the distance). God save their Graces!" Staf. (bitter!//). Their Graces, our disgraces ! God confound them ! Why, she's grown bloodier! "when I last was here, " This was against her conscience — would be murder !" Bag. The " Thou shalt do no murder," which God's hand Wrote on her conscience, jMary rubb'd out pale — She could not make it white — and over that, (vchem'tiili/) Traced in the blackest text of Hell — " Thou shalt!" And sign'd it — Mary ! SrAF. Philip and the Pope Must have sign'd too. I hear this Legate's coming To bring us absolution from the Pope. The Lords and Commons will bow down before him — You are of the house '? what will you do. Sir Ralph 1 Bag. And why should I be bolder than the rest, Or honester than all ] Staf. But, sir, if I — " And over sea they say this stale of yours " Hath no more mortise than a tower of cards ; " And that a putF would do it — then if I " And others made that move I touch'd upon, Back'd by the power of France, and landing here, Came with a sudden splendor, shout, and show, "And dazzled men and deafen'd by some bright " Loud venture, and the people so unquiet — " And I the race of murder'd Buckingham " — Not for myself, but for the kingdom — Sir, I trust that you will fight along with us. Bag. No ; you would fling your lives into the gulf. Staf. But if this Philip, as he's like to do, Left Mary a wife-widow here alone, Set up a viceroy, sent his myriads hither To seize upon the forts and fleet, and make us A Spanish province; would you not fight thenl Bag. I think I should fight then. Staf. I am sure of it. Hist! there's the face coming on here of one Who knows me. I must leave you. Fare you well. You'll hear of me again. [Exit, r. 1 e. Bag. {sorroivfulhj). Upon the scafibld. [Exit, l. 1 e. SCENE l\.—Room in Whitehall Palaee. Enter Mary, Philip, and Cakdixal Polk, c. d., preceded by Pagks, ivho draw up on either side, and, ivhen the Queen and others have advanced, retire, c. d. 58 aUEEN MAKY. [aCT III. Pole {hendlng low). Ave Maria, gratia plena, Benedicta tii in mulieri- bus.* Makt (c). Loyal and royal cousin, humblest thanks. Had you a pleasant voyage up the river ? Pole (l. c). We had your royal barge, and that same chair, Or rather throne of purple, on the deck. Our silver cross sparkled before the prow, The ripples twinkled at their diamond dance, The boats that follow'd were as glowing-gay As regal gardens ; and your flocks of swans As fair and white as angels; and your shores Wore in mine eyes the green of Paradise, My foreign friends, who dream'd us blanketed In ever-closing fog, were much amazed To find as fair a sun as might have flash'd Upon their Lake of Garda, fire the Thames ; Our voyage by sea was all but miracle ; And here the river flowing from the sea, Not toward it (for they thought not of our tides), Seem'd as a happy miracle to make glide— Li quiet — home your banish'd countryman. Mary. We heard that you were sick ia Flanders, cousin. Pole. A dizziness. Mary. And how came you round again 1 Pole. The scarlet thread of Rahab saved her life ; And mine, a little letting of the blood. Mary. WelH now'? Pole. Ay, cousin, as the heathen giant Had but to touch the ground, his force return'd — Thus, after twenty years of banishment, Feeling my native land beneath my foot, I said thereto : " Ah, native land of mine, Thou art much beholden to this foot of mine, That hastes with full commission from the Pope To absolve thee from thy guilt of heresy. Thou hast disgraced me and attainted me, And mark'd me e'en as Cain, and I return, As Peter, but to bless thee : make me well." Methinks the good land heard me, for to-day My heart beats twenty when I see you, cousin. Ah, gentle cousin, since your Herod's death. How oft hath Peter knock'd at Mary's gate ! And Mary would have risen and let him in. But, Mary, there were those within the house Who would not have it. Mary. True, good cousin Pole ; And there were also those without the house Who would not have it. Pole. I believe so, cousin. State policy and church policy are conjoint, But Janus- faces looking diverse ways. I fear the Emperor much misvalued me. But all is well ; 'twas e'en the will of God, Who, waiting till the time had ripen'd, now Makes me his mouth of holy greeting. " Hail, * Hail, Mary, full of grnco, blcisscd art tlioii nino.if; v.'omeri. ACT III.] QUKEN MAUT. 69 Daughter of God, and saver of tlie faith ; Sit beuedictus fructus ventris tui ! "* Mart {startled). Ah, Heaven ! Pole {keenli/). Unwell, your Grace 1 Mahy {evasiiichj). No, cousin, happy — ■ Happy to see you ; never yet so liappj'' Since I was crown'd. Pole. Sweet cousin, you forget That long low minster where you gave your hand To this great Catholic King. Philip (r. c. — coldly). Well said, Lord Legate. Mavly {iurni»ff to Puilip lovingly). Nay, not well said; I thought of you, my liege. E'en as I spoke, {then turning to Pole.) " Phil. Ay, madam ; my Lord Paget " Waits to present our Council to the Legate. " Sit down here, all ; madam, between us you. " Pole. Lo, now you are enclosed with boards of cedar, '• Our little sister of the Song of Songs ! " You are doubly fenced and shielded sitting here " Between the two most high-set thrones on earth, " The Emperor's highness happily symboll'd by " The King your husband, the Pope's holiness " By mine own self. " Mary. True, cousin, I am happy." When will you that we summon both our houses To take this absolution from your lips, And be regather'd to the Papal fold 1 Pole. In Britain's calendar the brightest day " Beheld our rough forefathers break their gods, " And clasp the faith in Christ ; but after that " Might not St. Andrew's be her happiest day 1 Mary. Then these shall meet upon St. Andrew's day. Pole. I am an old man, wearied with my journey. E'en with my joy. Permit me to withdraw. To Lambeth 1 Phil, {bitterly) Ay, Lambeth has ousted Cranmer. It was not meet the heretic swine should live In Lambeth. Mart. There or anywhere, or at all. Phil. We have had it swept and garnish'd after him. Pole. Not for the seven devils to enter in 1 Phil. No, for we trust they parted in the swine. Pole. True, and I am the angel of the Pope. Farewell, your Graces. Phil. Nay, not here — to me ; I will go with you to the waterside. Pole. Not be my Charon to the counter side 1 Phil. No, my Lord Legate ; the Lord Chancellor goes. Pole. And unto no dead world ; but Lambeth Palace, Henceforth a centre of the living faith, [Exeunt Pole, c. d., accompanied by Philip, ivho coldly takes Mart's hand. " Manet Mary. He hath awaked ! he hath awaked ! " He stirs within the darkness ! " Oh, Philip, husband ! now thy love >to mine * Blessed be the fruit of thy womb. 60 QTJEKN MAKr. [aCT III, " Will clina; more dose, and those bleak manners thaw, " Tiiat make me shamed and tongue-tied in my love. " The second Prince of Peace — " The great unborn defender of the Faitli, " Who will avenge me of mine enemies — " He conies, and ray star rises. " The stormy Wyaits and North umberlands, " The proud ambitions of Elizabeth, " And ail her fieriest partisans — are pale "Before my star ! " The light of this new learning wanes and dies : " The ghosts of Luther and Zuinglius fade " Into the deathless hell which is their doom " Before my star ! " His sceptre shall go forth from Ind to lud ! " His sword shall hew tlie heretic peoples down ! " His faith shall clothe the world that will bo his, " Like universal air and sunshine ! Open, " Ye everlasting gates ! The King is here ! — " My star, my son ! " UnterVniLip, Duke op Alva, elc. "Oh, Philip, come with me ! *' Good news have I to tell you — news to make " Both of us happy — ay, the kingdom too. " Nay, come with me — one moment ! " Phil, {to Alva). More than that : " Tliere was one here of late — William the Silent " They call him — he is free enough in talk, " But tells me nothing. You will be, we trust, " Some time the viceroy of those provinces — " He must deserve his surname better. " Alva. Ay, sir ; " Inherit the Great Silence. "Phil. True; the provinces " Are hard to rule and must be hardly ruled ; '• Most fruitful, yet, indeed, an empty rind, " All hollow'd out with stinging heresies ; " And for their heresies, Alva, tliey will fight; " You must break them or they break you. " Alva ( proudly). The first. " Phil. Good ! "Well, madam, this new happiness of mine. [Exeunt "Enter Three Pages. " First Page. News, mates ! a miracle, a miracle ! news ! '• The bells must ring ; Te Deunis must be sung ; " The Queen hath felt the motion of her babe 1 ' Second Page. Ay ; but see here! " First Page. See what 1 " Second Page. This paper, Dickon. " I found it fluttering at the palace gates : — " ' The Queen of England is delivered of a dead dog !' " Third Page. These are the things that madden her. Fie upon itl " First Page, Ay ; but I hear she hath a dropsf , lad, ACT 111.] tlUEKN MaKY. 61 " Or a high-dropsy, as the doctors call it. " Third Page. Fie on her dropsy, so she have a dropsy ! " I know that she was ever sweet to me. " First Page. For tlioii and thine are Roman to the core. " TuiRD Page. So thou and thine must be. Take heed ! " First Page. Not I ! " And whether this flash of news be false or true, " So the wine run, and there be reveh'y, " Content am I. Let all the steeples clash, " Till the sun dance, as upon Easter Day. [Exeunt." SCENE Ul.— Great hall m WhUehall. At the far end a dais. On (hit three chairs, tivo under one canopy for Mary and Philip, another on the right of these for Pole. On the right, near the chair of Pole, a tribune or reading-desk, slighlhj raised above the other parts. Under the dais on Pole's side, ranged along the wall, k , sit all thi Spiritual Peers, and along the wall, opposite l., all the Temporal. The Commons on cross benches in front, n line of approach to the dais between them. In the foreground, r.. Sir Ralpu Bagenhall, and other Members op THE Commons, First Member. St. Andrew's day ; sit close, sit close, we are friends. " Is reconciled the word ? The Pope again 1 " It must be thus ; and yet cocksbody !" bow strange That Gardiner, once so one with all of us Against this foreign marriage, should have yielded So utterly ! — strange ! but stranger still that he, So fierce against the Headship of the Pope, Should play the second actor in this pageant That brings him in ; such a chameleon he ! Second Mem. This Gardiner turn'd his coat in Henry's time ; The serpent that hath slough'd will slough again. Third Mem. Tut, then we all are serpents. Second Mem. Speak for yourself. Third Mem. Ay, and for Gardiner! being English citizen. How should he bear a bridegroom out of Spain 1 The Queen would have him ! beins English churchman, How should he bear the headship of the Pope "? The Queen would have it. Statesmen that are wise Shape a necessity, as the sculptor clay. To their own model. Second Mem. Statesmen that are wise Take truth herself for model, {to Bagenhall) What say you ? Bag, We talk and talk. First Mem. Ay, and what use to talk "? Philip's no sudden alien — the Queen's husband. He's here, and king, or will be — " yet cocksbody ! " So hated here !" I watch'd a hive of late ; My seven years' friend was with me, my young boy ; Out crept a wasp, with half the swarm behind. " Philip," says he, " I had to cuff the rogue For infant treason." Third Mem. But they say that bees. If any creeping life invade their hive Too gross to be thrust out, will build him round, And bind him in from harming of their combs. And Philip by these articles is bound 62 QUEEN MARY. [aCT III. From stirring hand or foot to wrong the realm. Second Mem. By bonds of beeswax, like yom* creeping thing ; But your wise bees had slung him tirsl to death. Thikd Men. Hush, hush ! You wrong tlie Chancellor : the clauses added To that same treaty which the Emperor sent us Were mainly Gardiner's : that no foreigner Hold office in the household, fleet, forts, army ; That if the Queen should die without a child, The bond between the kingdoms be dissolved ; That Philip should not mix us any way With his French wars Second Mem. Ay, ay, but what security Good sir, for this, if Philip Third Mem. Peace — the Queen, Philip, and Pole, {all rise and stand.) Enter Guards, l. 1 e., who pass up the centre, and file of r. and l. of the chairs; then enter, L. 1 B., Gardiner, Mart, Philip, and Pole. Gardiner conducts thnn to the three chairs of state, Philip si,ts on the Queen's left, Pole o» her right. Gard. (c. — bowing loiv). Our short-lived sun, before his winter plunge, Laughs at the last red leaf, and Andrew's Day. Mart. Should not this da}' be held in after years Moj-e solemn than of old 1 Phil. Madam, my wish Echoes your Majesty's. Pole. It shall be so. Gard. Mine echoes both your Graces' ; " {aside) but the Pope — " Can we not have the Catholic Church as well " Without as with the Italian 1 if we cannot, " Why then the Pope." {turns towards r. and then l.) My lords of tlie upper house, And ye, my masters of the lower house, D(i ye stand fast by that which ye resolved 1 Voices. We do. Gard. And be you all one mind to supplicate The Legate here for pardon, and acknowledge The primacy of the Pope 1 Voices. We are all one mind. Gard. {aside). Then must I play the vassal to this Pole. lie draws a paper from under his robes and presents it to the King and Queen', tvho look through it and return it to him ; then ascends the tribune, and reads. We, the Lo .(Is Spiritual and Temporal, And Commons here in Parliament assembled, Presenting the whole body of this realm Of England, and dominions of the same, Do make most humble suit unto your Majesties, In our own name and that of all the state, That by your gracious means and intercession Our supplication be exhibited To the Lord Cardinal Pole, sent here as Legato From our mo.st holy father Juliu-s, Pope, ACT III.] QTJEEN- M.VET. 63 And from the apostolic see of Rome ; And do declare our penitence and grief For our long schism and disobedience, Either in making laws and ordinances Against the Holy Father's primacy, Or else by doing or by speaking au<:;ht Which might impugn or prejudice the same ; By this our supplication- promising, As well for our own selves as all tlie realm, That now we be and ever shall be quick. Under and with your Majesties' authorities. To do to the utmost all that in us lies Towards the abrogation and repeal Of all such laws and ordinances made ; Whereon we humbly pray your Majesties, As persons undefiled with our offence, So to set forth this humble suit of ours That we the rather by your intercession May from the apostolic see obtain. Thro' this most reverend Father, absolution, And full release from danger of all censures Of Holy Church that we be falFn into, So that we may, as children penitent, Be once again received into the bosom And unity of Universal Church ; And that this noble realm thro' after years May ill this unity and obedience Unto the holy see and reigniag Pope Serve God and both your Majesties. Voices. Amen, (all sit.) He again presents the petition to the Kino and Queen, tvho hani it reveren- tially to Pole. Polk {sitting). This is the loveliest day that ever smiled On England. All her breath should, incense like, Rise to the heavens in grateful praise of Him Who now recalls her to his ancient fold. " Lo ! once again God to this realm hath given " A token of His more especial grace ; " For as this people were tli€ first of all " The islands call'd into the dawning church " Out of the dead, deep night of heathendom, ♦' So now are these the first whom God hath given " Grace to repent and sorrow for their schism ; '■' And if your penitence be not mockeiy, " Oh, how the blessed angels, who rejoice " Over one saved, do triumph at this hour " In the reborn salvation of a land " So noble." {a pause) For ourselves we do protest That our commission is to heal, not harm ; We come not to condemn, but reconcile ; We come not to compel, but call again ; We come not to destroy, but edify ; " Nor yet to question things already done ; " These are forgiven — inalters of the past — • 64 QUEEN MART. [aCX III. " And rango wiLh jetsam and with ofial thrown " Into the blind sea of Ibrgetfidness. [a pmtse) " Ye have reversed tho attainder laid on us " By liim who sack'd the house of God ; and we, " Amplier tlian any field on our poor earth " Can render thanks in fruit for beincj sown, " Do here and now repay you sixty-fold " A hundred, yea, a thousand thousand-fold, " With heaven for earth." {rising and stretching forth h's hcncls. AU Jcticcl hut Bagenuall, who rises and remains standing with Jinnncss and digniti/') " The Lord who hath redeem'd \is " Witli his own blood, and wash'd us from our sins, " To purchase for Himself a stainless bride ; " Ho, v.'hom the Father hath appointed Head Of all His church, He by His mercy absolve you ! [ci pause) And we by that authority apostolic Given unto us, his Legate, by the Pope, " Our Lord and Holy Fatiier, Julius, " God's Vicar and Vicegerent upon earth," Do here absolve you and deliver you And every one of you, and all the realm And its dominions from all heresy, All schism, and from all and every censure, Judgment, and pain accruing thereupon ; And also we restore you to the bosom And unity of Universal Church, [turning to Gardiner) Our letters of commission will declare this plainlier. QvE-Eii heard sobbing. Cries 0/ " Amen ! Amen!" Some of the members embrace one another. All but Sib Ralpu Bagenhall pass out, u. and L. u. E., into the adjoining chapel^ whence is heard the Te Diuiii. Bag. (advancing, c). We strove against the papacy from the first, In William's time, in our first Edward's time, Aud in my master Henry's time ;* but now, The unity of Universal Church, Mary would have it; and this Gardiner follows; The unity of Universal Hell, Philip would have it ; and this Gardiner follows ! A Parliament of imitative apes ! Sheep at the 2ap which Gardiner takes, who not Believes the Pope, nor any of them believe — These spaniel-Spaniard English of tlie time. Who rub their fawning noses in the dust. For that is Philip's gold-dust, and adore This Vicar of their Vicar. Would I had been Born Spaniard ; I had held my head up then. I am ashamed that I am Bagenhall, English. JEnfer Officer, l. 1 e. Offichu. Sir Ralph Bagenhall. Bag. What of that? Officer. You were the one sole man in either house * .Ml tliese were Kings of England, who had conten-led niainr,t the Pope. ACT III.] QUEEN MARY. G5 Who stood upright when both the houses fell. Bag. (biitcflij). The houses fell ! Officeu. I mean the houses Inielt Before the Legate. Bag. Bo not scrimp your phrase, But stretch it wider ; say when England fell. Officer. I say you were the one sole man who stood. Bag. I aiu the one sole man in either house, Perchance in England, loves her like a son. Opficeu. " Well, you one man," because you stood upright, Her Grace the Queen commands you to the Tower. Bag. [unmoved). As traitor, or as heretic, or for what? Officek. If any man in any waj' would be The one man he shall be so to his cost. Bag. What ! will she have my head ? Officer {stcrnhj). " A round fine likelier. " Your pardon." [beckons to Attenda>'T, icho enters, l. 1 r,.) By the river to the Tower. [Exeunt, l. 1 e. SCENE IV.* — TJliitehdU. A room in the palace. jMauy, Gardiner, Pole, Paget, Bonner, etc., discovered. Mary. The king and I, my Lords, now that all traitors Against our royal state iiave lost the heads Wherewitii they plotted in their treasonous malice, Have tallc'd together, and are well agreed That those old statutes touching Lollardisui T'o bring the lieretic to the stake, should bo No longer a dead letter, but requicken'd. One of the Council. Why, what hath fluster'd Gardiner ? how he rubs His forelock. Paget. I have changed a wofd witli him In coming, and may change a word a^am. Gaud. Madam, your Highness is our sun, the King And you together our two suns in one ; And so the beams of both may shine upon us. The faith that seem'd to dtoop will feel your light, Lift head, and flourish ; yet not light alone, There must be heat — there must be heat enough To scorcli and wither heresy to the root. For what sai;h Christ ? " Compel them to come in." And what saith Paul 1 "I would they were cue off That trouble you." Let the dead letter live ! * Id representation, the whole of this scene is to be omitted, and there is to be sub- stituted in its place the latter p.irt of the third Scene of Act IV , commencing willi that portion which atlndes to tlie numerous burnings of heretics, and gives an ac- count of the death of Cranmer, wliose arrest was one of the features of the First Act. The acting' version will therefore run thus : SCENE TV.-Thcimxhof St. Mary's church, Oxford. Enter, i>. 1 e., two Old Women— Joan, and after hn- Tib, and then proceed as marked at paa^e — . By this arrangement, time and space is al- lowed to make the Fifth Scene— Elizabeth's residence at Woodstock- one of the moat attractive and effective scenes in the play. G6 QUEEN MAKT. " [aCT III. Trace it in fire, tliat all the louts to whom Their A. B. 0. is darkness, clowns and grooms May read it ! so you quash rebellion too, For heretic and traitor are all one ; Jwo vipers of one breed — an amphisbuena, Each end a stinjj. Let the dead letter burn I Paget. Yet there he some disloyal Catholics, And many heretics loyal ; heretic tliroats Cried no God bless her ! to the Lady Jane, But shouted in Queen Alary. So there be Some traitor-heretic, there is axe and cord. To take the lives of others that are loyal, And by the churchman's pitiless doom of fire, Were but a thankless policy in the crown, Ay, and against itself; for there are many. Mary. If we could burn out heresy, my Lord Paget, We reck not tho' we lost this crown of England — Ay ! tho' it were ten Englands ! Gard. Right, your Grace. Paget, you are all for this poor life of ours, And care but little for the life to be, Paget. 1 have some time, for curiousness, my Lord, Watcli'd children playing at their life to be, And cruel at it, killing helpless flies; Such is our time — all times for aught I know. Gard, AVe kill the heretics that sling the soul — They, Avith right reason, flies that prick the flesh, Paget. They had not reach'd right reason ; little children ! They kill'd but for their pleasure and the power They felt in killing. Gard. A spice of Satan, ha ! Why, good ! what then ? granted — we are fallen creatures ; Look to your Bible, Paget ! we are fallen. Paget. I am but of the laity, my Lord Bishop, And may not read your Bible, yet I found One day, a wholesome scripture, " Little children, Love one another." Gard. Did you find a scripture, " I come not to bring peace but a sword V The sword Ls in her Grace's hand to smite with. Paget, You stand up here to fight for heresy. You are more than guess'd at as a heretic. And on the steep-up track of the true faith Your lapses are far seen. Paget. The faultless Gardiner ! Mary. You brawl beyond tlie question ; speak. Lord Legate. Pole. Indeed. I cannot follow with your Grace, Rather would say — the shepherd doth not kill The sheep that wander from his flock, but sends His careful dog to bring them to the fold. Look to the Netiierlands, wherein have been Such holocausts of heresy ! to what end 1 For yet the faith is not establishcil there. Gard. The end's not come. Pole. No— nor this way will corae, Seeing there lie two ways to every end, A better and a worse — the worse is here ACT III.] QUKKK MARY. G7 To persecute, because to persecute Makes a faith liated, and is furthermore No perfect witness of a perfect faith III him wlio persecutes ; when men are tost On tides of strange opinion, and not sure Of their own selves, they are wroth with their own selves, And thence with others ; then, who lights the fagot ? Not the full faith, no, but the lurking doubt. Old Rome, that first made martyrs in the church, Trembled for her own gods, for those were trembling — But when did our Rome tremble 1 Paget. Did she not In Henry's time and Edward's 1 Pole. What, my Lord ! The Church on Peter's rock 1 never ! I have seen A ])iiie in Italy that cast its shadow Athwart a cataract; firm stood the pine — Tlie cataract shook the shadow. To my mind, The cataract typed t!ie headlong plunge and fall Of heresy to the pit : the pine was Rome. You see, my Lords, It was the shadow of the Church that trembled ; Your church was but the shadow of a church, Wanting the triple mitre. Gaki>. {midterimj). Here be tropes. Pole. And tropes are good to clothe a naked truth, And make it look more seemly. Gard. Tropes again ! Pole. You are hard to please. Then without tropes, my Lord, An overmuch severeness, I repeat, When faith is wavering make the waverer pass Into more settled hatred of the doctrines Of those who rule, which hatred by and by Involves the ruler (thus there springs to light That Centaur of a monstrous Commonweal, The traitor-heretic) ; then tho' some may quail, Yet others are that dare the stake and fire. And their strong torment bravely borne, begets An admiration and an indignation. And hot desire to imitate ; so the ])lague Of schism spreads ; were there but three or four Of these misleaders, yet I would not say Burn ! and we cannot burn whole towns ; they are many, As my Lord Paget says. Gakd. Yet, my Lord Cardinal Pole. I am your Legate ; please you, let me finish. Methinks that under our Queen's regimen We might go softlier than with crimson rowel And streaming lash. When Herod-Henry first Began to batter at your English Church, This was the cause, and hence the judgment on her. She seethed with such adulteries, and the lives Of many amonc your churchmen were so foul That heaven wept and earth blush'd. I would adviso That we should tliorougiily cleanse tlie Church within Before these bitter slatutes be roquicken'd. So after that, wlien tho once more is seen 88 QUEEN MARY. [aCT III. White as the light, tlie spotless bride of Christ, Like Christ hiiuself on Tabor, i)ossibly The Lutlieraii may be won to her aixam ; Till wlieii, my Lords, I counsel tolerance. Gard- What, if a mad dog bit your hand, my Lord, Would you not ciiop the bitten fmtier off. Lost your wiiole body should madden witli tlie poison 1 I would not, were I Queen, tolerate the heretic, No, not an hour. The ruler of a land Is bounden by his power and place lo see His people be not poison'd. Tolerate them ! Why ] do they tolerate you 1 Nay, many of them Would burn— have burnt eacli other; call they not The one true faith a loathsome idol-worship 1 Beware, Lord Legate, of a heavier crime Than heresy is itself; beware, I say, Lest men accuse you of indifference To all faiths, all religion ; for you know Right well that you yourself have been supposed Tainted with Luliierauisin in Italy. Pole [angered). But you, my Lord, beyond all supposition, In clear and open day were congruent AVith that vile Cranmer in the accursed lie Of good Queen Catherine's divoice — the spring Of all those evils that have flow'd upon us ; For you yourself have truckled to the tyrant, And done your best to bastardize our Queen, For which God's righteous judgment fell upon you In your five years of imprisonment, my Lord, Uniler young Edward. Who so bolster'd up The gross King's headship of the Church, or more Denied tlie Holy Father 1 Gard. Ha! what! eh 1 But you, my Lord, a polish'd gentleman, A bookman, flying from the heat and tussle, You lived among your vines and oranges. In your soft Italy yonder ! You were sent for, You were appeal'd to, but you still prelerr'd Your learned leisure. As for what I did, I suffor'd and repented. You, Lord Legate And Cardinal-Deacon, have not now to learn That e'en St. Peter in his time of fear Denied his Master, ay, and thrice, my Lord. Pole. But not for five and twenty j^ears, niy Lord. Gakd. Ha ! good ! it seems then I was sumrnoii'd hither But to be mock'd and baited. Speak, friend Bonner, And tell this learned Legate he lacks zeal. The Church's evil is not as the King's, Cannot be heal'd by stroking. The mad bite Must have the cautery — tell liim— and at once. What wouldst thou do hadst thou his power, thou That layest so long in heretic bonds with mel Wouldst thou not burn and blast them root and branch? Bonner. Ay, after you, my Lord. Gard. Nay, God's passion, before me ! speak. BoN. I am on fire until I see tliem flinie. Gard. Ay, the p.salm-singing weavers, cobblers, scum — A.CL' in.] QUKEN MAXIT. CO But this most noblo prince Platagenet, Our pood Queen's cousin — dallying over seas Even when liis brotliers, nay, his noble mothers, Head fell Pole. Peace, mad man ! Thou stirrest up a grief thou canst not fathom. Tlion Christian Bishop, thou Lord Chancellor Of England ! no more rein upon thine anger Tiian any child ! Thou mak'st me much ashamed 'J'liat I was for a moment wroth at thee. Mary. I come for counsel and ye give me feuds, Like do^s that set to watch their master's gate. Fall, when the thief is e'en within the walls. To worrying one another. My Lord Chancellor, You have an old trick of offending us ; And but that you are art and part with us In purging heresy, well we might, for this Your violence and much roughness to the Legate, Have shut you from our counsels. Cousin Pole, You are fresh from brisihter lands. Retire with me. His highness and myself (so you allow us) Will let you learn in peace and privacy What power this cooler sun of England hath In breathing Godless vermin. And pray Heaven That you may see according to our sight. Come, cousin. ]Excunt, Queen and Pole, etc., c Gard. Pole has the Plantagenet face, But not the force made them our mightiest kings. Fine eyes — but melancholy, irresolute — A fine beard, Bonner, a veij' full fine beard. But a weak mouth, an indeterminate — ha? Bon. Well, a weak mouth, perchance. Gard. And not like thine To gorge a heretic whole, roasted or raw. Bon. I'd do my best, my Lord ; but yet the Legate Is here as Pope and master of the church, And if he go not with you Gakd. Tut, Master Bishop, Our bashful Legate, saw'st not how he fiush'd ? Touch him upon his own heretical talk, He'll burn a diocese to prove his orthodoxy. And let him call me truckler. In those times. Thou knowest we had to dodge, or duck, or die ; I kept my head for use of Holy Cliurch ; And see you, we shall have to dodge again. And let the Pope trample our rights, and plunge His foreign fist into our island church Ta plump the leaner pouch of Italy. For a time, for a time. Why ? that these statutes may be put in force, And that his fan may thoroug'hly purge his floor. Bon. So then you hold the Pope Gard. I hold the Pope ! What do I hold him 1 what do I hold the Popel Come, come, the morsel stuck— this Cardinal's fault— I have gulped it down. I am wholly for the Pope, Utterly and altogether for the Pope, 70 QUEEN MAKY. [aCT III. The Eternal Peter of tlie changeless chair, Crown'd slave of slaves, and mitred king of kings, God upon earth ! what more 1 what would you have ? Hence, let's be gone. Enter Usher. Usher. Well that you be not gone, My Lord. The Queen, most wroth at first with you. Is now content to grant you full forgiveness, So that you crave full pardon of the Legate. I am sent to fetch you. Gard. Doth Pole yield, sir, ha ! Did you hear 'em ] were you by 1 Usher. I cannot tell you, His bearing is so courtly-delicate : And yet niethinks he falters : their two Graces Do so dear-cousin and royal-cousin him. So press on him the duty which as Legate He owes himself, and with such royal smiles Gard. Smiles that burn men. Bonner, it will be carried. He falters, ha 1 'fore God we change and chan<;e ; Men now are bow'd and old, the doctors tell you. At threescore years ; then if we change at all We needs must do it quickly ; it is an age Of brief life, and brief purpose, and brief patience. As I have shown to-day. I am sorry for it If Pole be like to turn. Our old friend Cranmer, Your more especial love, hath turn'd so often, He knows not where he stands, which, if this pass, We two shall have to teach him ; let 'em look to it, Cianmer and Hooper, Ridley and Latimer, Rogers and Ferrar, for their time is come, Tlieir hour is hard at hand, their " dies Irse," Their " dies Ilia," which will teat their sect, I feel it but a duty — you will find in it Pleasure as well as duty, worthy Bonner — To test their sect. Sir, I attend the Queen To crave most humble pardon — of her most Royal, Infallible, Papal Legate-cousin. [Exeunt. SCENE Y.— Woodstock * Elizabeth and Lady-in-Waiting discovered. Elizabeth reclining on couch, R., the Lady near the open window. Lady. The colors of our Queen are green and white. These fields are only green, they make me gape. Er.iz. {rising, and going to ivindoiv). There's whitethorn, girl. Lady. Ay, for an hour in May. But court is always May, buds out in masks, * A town in the county of Oxford, where the Queen had a palace to which, upon the breakin<» up of Wyatt's rebellion, the Princess Elizabeth was sent for safe keep- ing under tlie care of a rough but kind hearted gentleman, Sir Henry Bedinglield, — (really attached to her cause)— Mary not daring to send her to the Tower for fear of offending the people, with whom Elizabeth was a great favorite. At the same time Courtenay was sent to Fotheringay Castle, in the county of Northampton. A.CT III.] QUEEN MARX. 71 Breaks into featlierd merriments, and flowers In silken pageants. Wliy do tiiey keep us here 1 Why still suspect your Grace ! Eliz. Hard upon both, {ivrites on the window li., with a diamond:) Much suspected, of me Nothing proven can be, Q,uoth Ehzabeth, prisoner. Lady. What hath your Highness written ? Eliz. A true rhyme. Lady. Cut with a diamoud ; so to last like truth. Eliz. Ay, if truth last. Lady. But truth, they say, will out, So it must last. It is not like a word, That comes and goes in utterinjj. Eliz. Truth, a word ! The very truth and very word are one. But truth of story, which I glanced at, girl, Is like a word that conies from olden days. And passes thro' the peoples : every tongue Alters it passing, till it spells and speaks Quite other than at first. Lady. I do not follow. Eliz. How many names in the long sweep of time That so foreshortens greatness, may but hang On the chance mention of some fool that once Break bread with us, perhaps; and my poor chronicle Is but of glass. Sir Henry Bedlngfleld May split it for spite. Lady. God grant it last, And witness to your Grace's innocence. Till doomsday melt it. Eliz. Or a second fire. Like that which lately crackled underfoot And in this very chamber, fuse the glass, And char us back again into the dust We spring from. Never peacock against rain Scream'd as you did for water. Lady. And I got it. I woke Sir Henry — and he's true to you — I read his honest horror in his eyes. Eliz. Or true to you 1 Lady. Sir Henry Bedingfield ! I will have no man true to me, your Grace, But one that pares his nails ; to me 1 the clown ! For, like his cloak, his manners want the nap And gloss of court ; but of this fire he says, Nay, swears, it was no wicked wilfulness, Only a natural chance. Eliz. A chance — perchance One of those wicked wilfuls that men make, Nor shame to call it nature. Nay, I know They hunt my blood. Save for my daily range Among the pleasant field of Holy Writ, ^ I might despair. But there hath some one tome; The house is all in movement. Hence, and lee. [EkH Lady, l. 1 e. 72 QUEEN MART. [aCT III. Elizabeth seats herself near the window, and dtirinff the song expresses, by action, her interest in, and deligh t experienced by, the melody. Milkmaid {singing without). Shame upon you, Robin, Shame upon you now 1 Kiss me would you .' with my hands Milking the cow ? Daisies grow again, Kingcups blow again, And you came and kiss'd me milking the cow, Robin came behind me, Kiss'd me well, I vow ; Cuff him could I ? with my hands Milking the cow .' Swallows fly again, Cuckoos cry again, And you came and kiss'd me milking the cow. Come, Robin, Robin, Come and kiss me now ; Help it can I .' with my handa Milking the cow .' Ringdove i coo again. All things woo again, Come behind and kiss me milking the cow. Eliz. {rising and advancing). Right honest and red-cheek'd ; Robin was violent, And she was crafiy — a sweet violence, And a sweet craft, {sweetly) I would I were a milkmaid To sing, love, marry, churn, brew, bake, and die, Then have my simple headstone by the church, And all things lived and ended honestly. I could not if I would, {proudly) I am Harry's dauglitei Gardiner would have my head. They are not sweet, The violence and the craft that do divide The world of nature ; what is weak must lie; The lion needs but roar to guard his young ; The lapwing lies, says " h^re " when they are theie. Threaten the child ; " I'll scourge you if you did it." What weapon hath the child, save his soft tongue, To say " I did not " 1 and ray rod's the block. I never lay my head upon the pillow But that I think, " Wilt thou lie there to-morrow 1 " How oft the falling axe, that never fell. Hath shock'd me back into the daylight truth That it may fall to-day ! Those damp, black, dead Nights in the Tower ; dead — with the fear of death — Too dead e'en for a death-watch ! Toll of a bell, Stroke of a clock, the scurrying of a rat Affrighted me, and then delighted me. For there was life — And there was life in death — The little murder'd princes,'*' in a pale light, Rose hand in liand, and whisper 'd, " Come away ; The civil wars are gone forevermore : Thou last of all the Tudors, come away — * Alluding to the two sons of King Edward IV., who, by order of their uncle Richard III., were imprisoned in the Tower, and there smothered and the bodie buried deep in the ground at the foot ot the stairs leading to their chamber. ACT in.] Quia'N MAiir. 73 AVith us is peace ! " Tlielasti It was a dream ; I must not dream, not wink, but watch. She has gone, {looking- oid of window) Maid Marian to her Robin — by-and-by Both happy ! a fox may filch a hen by night, ind make a morning outcry in the yard ; But tliere's no Renard here to "catch her tripping." " Catch me who can ; yet, sometime I have wish'd " That I were caught, and kill'd away at once " Out of the flutter. Tlie gray rogue, Gardiner, " Went on his knees, and pray'd me to confess " In Wyatt's business, and to cast myself " Upon the good Queen's mercy ; ay, when, my Lord 1 " God save the Queen." My jailer Enter Sir Henry Bedingfield, with letter, l 1 e. . Bedingfield. One, whose bolts. That jail you from free life, bar you from death. There haunt some Papist ruffians hereabouts Would murder you. Eliz. (^advancing c). I thank you heartily, sir, ]5ut I am royal, tho' your j^risoner, And God hath blest or cursed me with a nose — Your boots are from tlie horses. Bedtng. {brusquely). Ay, my Lady. When next tliere comes a missive from the Queen It shall be all my study for one hour To I'ose and lavender my horsiness, Before I dare to glance upon your Grace. Eliz. A missive from the Queen : last time she wrote I had like to have lost my life : it takes my breath : God, sir, do you look upon your boots. Are you so sma^JI a man 1 Help me : what think you. Is it life or death ? Beding. I thought not on my boots ; The devil take all boots were ever made Since man went barefoot. See, I lay it here, For I will come no nearer to your Grace ; {laying down the letter on table, l.) And whether it bring you bitter news or sweet, And God have given your Grace a nose, or not, I'll help you, if I may. Eliz. Your pardon, then 1 It is the heat and narrowness of the cage That makes the captive testy ; with free wing The world wereall one Araby. Leave me now, Will you, companion to myself, sir 1 Bkding. W\\\11 With most exceeding willingness I will ; You know I never come until I be call'd. [Exit, l. 1 e. Eliz. (c). It lies tliere folded ; is there venom in it 1 A snake — and if I touch it, it may sting. Come, come, the worst ! Best wisdom is to know t'le worst at once, (lakes up Utter and reads) " It is the King's wish that you should wed Prince Philibert of Savoy. 74 QCKEN JIAUV. [act III. You are to come to Court on the instant ; and think of this in your com- ing. " MaUY THE QUEEX." {after a pause, then advancing c.) Think ! I havo many tlioughts ; I think there may be birdlime here for mo ; I tliink tliey fain would have me from tlie realm ; I think the Queen may never bear a cliiid ; I tliink that 1 may be sometime the Queen, Then QiitnMi in(I(?ed; no foreign prince or priest Slioulil fill my throne, myself upon the steps. 1 think 1 will not marry any one, Specially not this landless Pliilibort Of Savoy ; but, if Philip menace mo, I think iliat 1 will [(lay with Philibert — As once the Holy Father did with mine, Before my father married my good mother, — For fear of Spain. Re-enter Lapy, l. 1 h. Lady. " Lord ! your Grace, your Grace," I feci so hai)py ; it seems that wo shall (ly These bald, blank holds, and dance into the sua That shines on princes. Eliz. Yet, a moment since, I wish'd myself the milkmaid sinking here, To kiss and cull" among the birds and (lowers — A right rougli life and healthful. Lady. But the wench Hath her own trouble:! ; she' is weeping now; For the wrong Robin took her at her word. Then the cow kick'd, and all her milk was spilt. Your Highness such a milkmaid 1 Eliz. I had kept My Robins and my cows in sweeter ordci" Had I been such. Lady (ulylij). And had your Grace a Robin. Eliz. Come, come, you are chill here; you want the sun That shines at corrt ; make ready for the journey. Pray God wo 'scape the sunstroke. Ready at once. [Exeunt, L. 1 E. SCENE VI.* — London. A room in the palace. Enter Loud Petke, and Lord Willia:\i Howard, l. 1 e. Pbtre. You cannot see the Queen. Renard denied her E'en now to me. Howard. Their Flemish go-between And all-in-all. I came to ihaiik lier Majesty For freeing my friend Bageidiall from the Tower ; A grace to \\u\ ]\Icrcy, that herb-of-grace, Flowers now but seldom. Petre. Only now perhaps. Because the Queen hutli been three days in tears * This scone oau be omitted if desired, and the Act terminate with Eliaabeth'a de- parture. ACT III. J QUKKN MART. 76 For riiilip's going — " like tho wild liedge-rose " Of a soil winter, possible, nut probable, *' However, you have prov'ii it." Howard. I must see her. Enter Renard, r. 1 e. Ri;n. My Lords, you cannot see her Majesty. HowAKo, Why then tho King ; for I would liave him bring it Homo to the leisure wisdom of his Queen, Befoie he go, that since these stiiliilcs past, Gardiner out-Qardiners Gardiner in liis heat, Bonner cannot ouL-Bonner his own scdf — Beast ! — but they play wilh fire as children do, And burn the house. T know that these are breeding A fierce resolve and fixt heart-hate in men Against the King, the Queen, the Holy Father, The faith itself. Can I not see him 1 Ken. Not now. And in all this, my Lord, her Majesty Ls flint of flint, you in ly strike fire from her, Not hope to melt lu-r. I will give your message. Exeunt Petiih and Howaiid, l. 1 k., followed hi/ Rf.naud, xvho prtn.srs ai the entrance. Enter PuiLip, R. c, mnsuig, and ivallcinff slow!// d./wn the t:t::jc. Piiiri. (c). She will not have Prince Philibert of Savoy. I talk'd with her in vain — says she will live And die true maid — a goodly creature too. Would she had been the Queen ! yet she must have lii:\i , She troubles England ; that she breathes in Englai:d Is life and lungs to every rebel birth That passes out of embryo, [ohscrvin;/ Renard) Simon Renard ! This Howard, whom tliey fear, what was ho saying 1 Ren. {advancing, l. c). What your nnjierial father said, my lio,;c. To deal with heresy gentler. Gardiner burns, And Bomier burns ; and it would seem tliis peoi)]o Care more for our brief life in their wet land. Than yours in happier Spain. I told my Lord He should not vex her Highness ; she would say These are tho means God works with, that His cliurc!i May flourish. Pun,. Ay, sir, but in statesmanship To strike too soon is oft to miss tho blow. Tliou kno\vj jnoii Renard speak a single word 1 PniL. Ay. Ren. And be forgiven for it? PuiL. Simon Renard Knows me too well to speak a single word That could not be forgiven. Ren. Well, my liege. Your Grace bath a most chaste and loving wife. PniL. Why not 1 The Queen of Philip should be chaste. Ren. Ay ! but, my Lord, you know what Virgil sings, Woman is various and most mutable. Phil. She play the harlot ! never ! Ren. No, sire I no, Not dream'd of by the rabidest gospeller. There was a paper thrown into the palace, " The King hath wearied of his barren bride." She came upon it, read it, and then rent it. With all tlie rage of one who hates a truth He cannot but allow. Sire, I would have you — What should I say 1 I cannot pick ray words — * It was a source of the most extreme trouble and anguish to Miry (lia'. llicro appeared to be little probability of ber having issue of her laarriage. Fearful of losing? her husband's love she continually led liim to believe tliat the long-looked lor event was about to tako place, and preparations for it were constantly being made, but wilh no good result. Tliis was (greatly to tlio satisfaction of her enemies, wl;o saw by such failure of issue the end of the Spanish rule and the accession of Eliza- beth to the throne. To heighten as much as possible Mary's misery, little scraps of X);ipcr containing insulting sentences were dropped all over the palace, wherever she was likely to walk, even in her private ciiamber. This failure of issue pioilucod in Philip coldness and dislike, the conspquence of which was that tho latter part of her reign was as miserable! es can well be imagined. ACT III.] QUEKN MAllY, 7" Bo somewliat less — majestic to your Queen, PiiiL. {testily). Am I to change luy nianuers, Simon Renard, Because llieso islanders are brutal beasts 1 Or would you have me turn a sonneteer, And warble those brlef-sightud eyes j^f liens 1 Ren. Brief-sj;i!ited tho' they be, I have seen tlieai, sire, When you perchance were trifling royally AViLh some fair dame of court, suddenly fill With such fierce fire — had it been tiro indeed It would have burnt botli speakers. Phil. Ay, and then 1 Re\. Sire, misht it not be policy in some matter Of small importance now and then to cede A point to her demand 1 Vmu. Well, I am going. Reu. For should her love when you are gone, my liege, Witness these papers, there will not be wanting Those that will urge her injury — should her love — And I have known such women more than one — Veer to the counterpoint, and jealousy Hath in it an alchen)ic force to fuse Almost into one metal love and hate — And she impress her wrongs upt)n her Council, And these again upon her Parliament — Wo are not loved here, and would be then perhaps Not so well holpen in our wars with France, As else we might be — here she comes. ILe moves aside, and loith an ohcisancc retires tep the stage, l., as Mahy enters, l. c. Mary {advancing qnicJdij and (iffcctionatehj). Philip I Nay, must you go indeed ! PmXi. {ro.'dlg). Madam, I must. Maiiy. The parting of a husband and a wife To like the cleaving of a heart ; one half Will flutter here, one there. PniL. You say true, madam. " Mai-.y. The Holy Virgin will not have me yet " Lose Ihe sweet hope that I may bear a prince. " If such a prince were born and you not here ! " Phil. I should be here if such a prince were born." Maiiy. Bat must you go 1 PiiiL. Madam, you know iny father, Retiring into cloistral solitude To yield the remnant of his years to Heaven, Will shift the yoke and weight of all the world From off his neck to mine. We meet at Brussels. Cut since mine absence will not be for long. Your Majesty shall go to Dover with me, And wait my coming back. " Maky. To Dover ? no, " I am too feeble. I will go to Greenwich, " So you will have me with you ; and there watch ^ " All that is gracious in the breath of Heaven " Draw with j'our sails from our poor land, and ]ns3 " And leave me, Philip, with my prayers for you. 78 QUEEN MAUr. [aCT IV. " Phil. And doubtless I shall profit by j'our prayers." Maky {appealing affectionately). Metliiuks that would you tarry one (by more (The news was sudden) I could mould myself To bear your ftoiyg better; will you do it? Phil. Madam, a day may sink or save a realm. Mary. A day may save a heart from breakin:? too. Phil. Well, Simon Renard, shall we stop a day? Ren. {advancing — craftily). Your Grace's business will not suffer, siro, For one day more, so far as I can tell. Phil. Then one day more to please her Majesty. Maky. The sunshine sweeps across my life again. if I knew you felt this parting, Philip, As I do ! Phil. By St. James, I do protest, Upon the faith and honor of a Spaniard, 1 am vastly grieved to leave your Majesty. {coldly) Simon, is supper ready 1 Ren. Ay, my liege ; I saw the covers laying. PniL. {coldly and sternly). Let us have it. Picture — Renaud, smiling sardonically and eying keenly Philip and Mart, moving off towarcU c. d., hut pausing midway ; Philip, cold and impas- sice, c. / Mary gently and timidly resting her hand on his arm and gaz- ing lovingly mid anxiously in his face. ACT IV.* SCENE I. — A room in the palace. Map.y and Cardinal Pole discovered. Mart. VVh.it have you there 1 Pole. So please your Majesty, A long petition from the foreign exiles To spare the life of Cranmer. Bishop Thirlby, And my Lord Paget and Lord AVilliaui Howard, Crave, in the same cause, hearing of your Grace. Hath he not written himself — infatuated — To sue for iiis life ? Maky. His life 1 Oli, no ; Not sued for that — he knows it were in vain. But so much of the anti-i)apal leaven ^V^orks in him yet, he hath i)ray'd me not to sully I\Iine own prerogative, and degrade the realm By seeking justice at a stranger's hand Against my natural subject. King and Queen, To whom he owes his loyalty after God, * The whole of this Act is to be omitted in representation, exoeptinr? tlie hitter portion of tlio last scjno, coinmonoins? with the entry of the two old women, Joan and lib, wliicli is, as previously directed, to be transferreci to the Third Act, to form t!ie fourth scene of tliat Act. ACT IV.] CIUEE]S^ MAUY. 79 Shall tliORc accuse him to a foreign prince 1 Death wimkl not grieve him more. I cannot be True to this realm of Enirland and the Pope Together, says the heretic. Pole. And there errs ; As he Lath ever err'd thro' vanity. A secular kingdom is but as the body Lacking a soul ; and in itself a beast. Tlie Holy Fatiier in a secular kingdom Is as the soul descending out of heaven Into a body generate. Mary. Write to him, then. Pole. I will. Mary. And sharply, Pole. Pole. Here come the Crannierites ! Enter Tuirlby, Lokd Paget, rt«i Lord William Howard. IIowAiiD. Health to your Grace. Good-raorrow, my Lord Cardinal ; We make our humble prayer unto your Graca That Cranmer may withdraw to foreign parts, Oi' into private life witiiin the realm. In several bills and declarations, madam, He halh recanted all his heresies. Paget (aside). Ay, ay ! if Bonner have not forged the bills. Mary. Did not More die, and Fisher ? he must burn. Howard. He hath recanted, madam. Mary. The better for liim. He burns in purgatory, not in hell. Howard. Ay, ay, your Grace; but it was never seen Tliat any one recanting thus at full, As Cranmer hath, came to the fire on earth. Mary. It v/iU be seen now, then. Tuirl. 0, madam ! madam 1 I thus implore you, low upon my knees, To reach the hand of mercy to my friend. I have err'd with him ; witii him I have recanted. What human reason is there why my friend t Sliould meet with lessor mercy than myself? JIary. My Lord of Ely, this. After a riot We liang tlie leaders, let their following go. Craumer is head and father of these heresies, New learning as tliey call it ; yea, may God Forget me at most need when I forget Her foul divorce — my sainted mother — no ! Howaud. Ay, ay ! but miglity doctors doubted there. The Pope himself waver'd ; and more than one Row'd iii tliat galley — Gardiner to wit, AVhora truly I deny not to have been Your faithful friend and trustj' councillor. Hath not j'our Highness ever read Ids book, His tractate upon True Obedience, Writ by himself and Bonner. Mart. I will take Such order witli all bad, heretical books Tliat none shall hold them in his house and live, Henceforward. No, my Lord. 80 QUEEN MAKY. [.VCt If. Howard. Then never read it. The truth is here. Your father was a man Of such colossal kinghood, yet so courteous, Except when wroth, you scarce could meet his eye And hold your own ; and were he wroth indeed, You held it less, or not at all. 1 say, Your father had a will that beat men down ; Your father had a brain that beat men down Pole. Not me, my Lord. Howard. No, for you were not here ; You sit upon this fallen Cranmer's throne ; And it would more become you, my Lord Legate, To join a voice, so potent with her tlighness, To ours in i)lea for Cranmer than to stand On naked self-assertion. Mary. All your voices Are waves on flint. The heretic must burn. Howard. Yet once he saved your Majesty's own life ; Stood out against the King in your behalf, At his own peril. Mary. I know not if he did ; And if he did I care not, my Lord Howard. My life is not so happy, no such boon. That I should spare to take a heretic priest's. Who saved it or not saved. Why do you vex me 1 Paget. Yet to save Cranmer were to save the Church, Your Majesty's I mean ; he is effaced, Self-bloLted out; so wounded in his honor, He can but creep down into some dark hole Like a hurt beast, and hide himself and die ; But if you burn him — well, your Highness knows The saying — " Martyr's blood — seed of the church." Mary. Of the true church ; but his is none, nor will be. You are too politic for nie, my Lord Paget. And if he have to live so loath'd a life, It were more merciful to burn him now. Thirl. O yet relent. O, madam, if you knew him As I do, ever gentle, and so gracious, With all his learning Mary. Yet a heretic still. His learning makes his burning the more just. Thirl. Soworshipt of all those that came across him ; The stranger at his hearth, and ail his liouse Mary. His children and his concubine, belike. * TuiRL. To do him any wrong was to beget A kindness from him, for his heart was i"icli. Of such line mould, tliat if you sow'd therein The seed of hate, it blossom'd charity. Pole. " After his kind it ciists him nothing," there's An old world Etiglish ada.'e to the point. These are but natural graces, my good Bishop, Which in the Catholic garden are as flowers, But on the heretic dunghill only weeds. Howard. Such weeds make dunghills gracious. Mary. Enough, my Lords. It is God's will, the Holy Father's will, And Philip's will, and mine, that he should burn. ACT IV.] QUEEN MAKT. 81 He is pronounced anathema, Howard. Farewell, nmdam, God grant you ampler mercy at your call Than you have shown to Cranmer. [Exeunt Lokd.s. Pole. After this, Your Grace will hardly care to overlook Tliis same petition of the foreign exiles, i''or Cranmer "s life. Mary. Make out the writ to night. [Eurnni. SCENE II. — Oxford. — Cranmer in pi-ison. Cran. Last night I dreara'd the fa:;ots were alight, And that my^f was fasteii'd to the stake, And found it all a visionary flame, Cool as the light in old decaying wood ; And then King Hurry look'd from out a cloud, And bade me have good courage ; and I heaid An angel cry, "There is more joy in heaven." — And after that, the trumpet of the dead, (trumpets w't'io-.if) Why, there are trumpets blowing now! what is it i Enter Father Cole. Cole. Cranmer, I come to question you again ; Have you remained in the true Catholic faith I left you in 1 Cran. In the true Catholic faith, By Heaven's grace, I am more and more confirm'J. Wijy are the trumpets blowing, Father Colel Cole. Cranmer, it is decided by the Council Tliat you to-day should read your recantation Before the people in St. Mary's churcli. And tiiere be many heretics in the town, Who loathe you for your late return to Rome, And might assail you passing through the stie?t. And tear you peacemeal ; so you have a guard. Cran. Or seek to rescue me. I thanif the Council. Cole. Do you lack any money 1 Cran. Nay, why should 1 1 The prison fare is good enough for me. Cole. Ay ! but to give the poor. Cran. Hand it to me, then ! I thank you. CoLR. For a little space, farewell ! Until I see you in St. Mary's church. [Exit Chle. CiiAN. It is against all precedent to burn One wlio recants; they mean to pardon me. To give the poor — they give the poor who die. Well, burn nis or not burn me, I am fixt ; It is but a communion, not a mass : A iioly supper, not a sacrifice ; No man can mal;e his Maker— Villa Garcia. E)i!er 'Villa Garcia. Garcia. Pray you write out this paper for me, Cranmer. 2 QUEEN MAKY. [\CV iV. CiiAN. Have I not writ enough to satisfy you 1 Garcia. It is tiie last. Chan Give it me, then, (he writes.) Gaiicia. Now sign. Cran. 1 have sigu'd enough, and I will sisn no more. Garcia. It is no more than what you have sign'd already, The public form thereof. Cran. It may be so ; I siLTn it with my presence, if I read it. Gaiicia. Bat this is idle of you. Well, sir, well, You are to be^ the people to pray for you ; Exhoit tliom to a ])ure and virtuous Hie ; Declare the Queen's right to the throne ; confess Your faith before all hearers ; and retract Tliat Eucharistic doctrine in your book. AVill you not sign it now 1 Cran, No Villa Garcia, I si^n no more. 'Will they have mercy on me ? Garcia. Have you good hopes of mercy ! So, farewell. [Exit, Cran. Good hopes, not theirs, have I that I am fixt, Fixt beyond fall ; however, in strange hours, After the long brain-dazzling colloquies. And thousand times recurring ai'gument Of those two friars ever in my prison. When left alone in my despondency. Without a friend, a book, my faith would seem Dead or half-drown'd, or else swam heavily Against the huge corruptions of the church, Monsters of nn'stradition, old enough To scare me into dreaming, " what am I, Cranmer, against whole ages V was it so, Or am T slandeyng my most inward friend, To veil the fault of my most outward foe — The soft and tremulous coward in the flesh"? higher, holier, e.M-lier, purer church, 1 have found thee and not leave tliee any more. It is but a communion, not a mass — No sacrifice, but a life-giving feast ! {writes) So, so ; this will I say — thus will I pray, {puts up the paper.) Enter Bonner. Bon. Good-day. old friend ; what, you look somewhat worn : And yet it is a day to lest your health E'en at Jie best : I scarce have spoken with you Since when ? — your degradation. At your trial Never stood up a bolder man than you ; You would not cap the Popes commissioner — Your learning, and your stoutness, and j'our heresy, Dumbfounded half of us. So, after that, We had to dis-archbishop and unlord, And make you simple Ci-aniner once again, Tlie common barber dipt your hair, and I Scraped from your finger-points the holy oil ; And worse than all, you had to kneel to mc : Which was not, plea^ant for ycu, Maslev Crfiiiu;-. ;■. Now vou. that would not recognize the Pomo, ACT IV. j QUEEN MART. J And you, tliat would not own the Real Presence, Have found a real presence in the stake, Which fiiglits you hack into the ancient faitli ; And so you have recanted to the Pope. How are the mighty fallen, Master Cranmer ? Ckan. You have heen more fierce against tlie Pope than I ; Pjut why fling back tiie stone he strike-s me with"? {aside) 0, Bonner ! if I ever did you kindness — Power hath been given you to try faith by fire — Pray you, remembering how yourself have changed. Be somewhat pitiful, after I have gone. To the ])Oor flock — to women and to children — That wlien I was archbisliop held with me. Bon. Ay — gentle as they call you — live or die I Pitiful to this pitiful heresy 1 I must obey the Queen and Council, man. Win thro' this day with honor to yourself. And I'll say something for you — so — good-by. [Hxit. CuAN. This hard, coarse man of ohl hath crouch'd to me Till I myself was half ashamed for him. Unicr Thiklby. Weep not, good Thirlby. TniRL. Oh, my Lord, ray Lord ! My heart is no such block as Bonner's is ; Who would not weep 1 Ckan. Wliy do you so my-lord me, Who am disgraced 1 TuiEL. On earth ; but saved in heaven By your recanting. Cran. Will they burn me, Thirlby 1 TniRL. Alas, they will I these bunnngs will not help The purpose of the faith ; but my poor voice Against them is a whisper to the roar Of a spring- tide. Cran. And tliey Avill surely burn met TuiRL. Ay; and besides, will have you in the church Repeat your incantation in the ears Of all men, to the saving of their souls, Before your execution. May God help you Thro' that bard hour. Chan. And may God bless you, Thirlby. W^ell, they shall hear my recantation there. [Uzil Thirlby. Disgraced, dishonor'd! — not by them, Indeed, By mine own self — by mine own hand! tliin-skinn'd hand and jutting veins, 'twas you That sign'd the burning of poor Joan of Kent ; But then she Avas a witch. You have written much, But you were never raised to plead for Frith, AVi'iose dogmas I have reach'd ; he was deliver'd To the secular arm to buin ; and there was Lambert ; Who can foresee himself? truly, these burnings. As Thirlby says, are profitless to the burners. And help the other side. You shall burn too, Burn first when I am burnt. Fire — inch by inch to die in agony ! Latimer 84 Q-jrrx v.xnw [act iv. Had a brief end — net Ridley. Hooper burn'd Three-quarters of an liour. Will my fagots Be wet as hiy were ? It is a day of rain. I will not rau.^e upon it. My f;nicy takes the burner's part, and makes' Tlie fire seem even crueller than it is. No, I not doubt that God will give me strength, Albeit I have denied Him. Unter Soto and Villa Garcia. Garcia. We are ready To take j'ou to St. Mary's, Master Cranmer. Gran. And I : lead on ; ye loose me from my bonds. [Exeunt. SCENE III.— Sif. Mmy's Church. CohE in the pulpit, Lord WiLhixus ov Thame presiding. Lord William Howard, Lord Paget, and others. Cranmer enters between Soto «««? Villa Garcia, ««(^ the whole choir strike ?yj " Nunc Dlmittia." Crakmer is set upon a scaffold before the people. Cole. Behold him — {a pause ; peojile in the foreground.) People. Oh, unhappy sight ! First Protestant. See how the tears run down his fatherly face. Second Prot. James, didst thou ever see a carrion crow Stand watching a sick beast before he dies ? First Prot. Hini perch'd up there ? I wish some thunderbolt Would make this Cole a cinder, pulpit and all. Cole. Behold him, brethren : he hath cause to weep ! — So have we all : weep with him if ye will, Yet— It is expedient for one man to die, Yea, for the people, lest the people die. Yet wherefore should he die that hath return'd To the one Catholic Universal Church, Repentant of his errors 1 Protestant murmurs. Ay, tell us that. Cole. Those of the wrons side will despise the man, Deeming him one that thro' the fear of death Gave up his cause, except he seal his faith In sight of all with flaming martyrdom. Cran. Ay. Cole. Ye hear him, and albeit there may seem According to the canons, pardon due To him tiiat so repents, yet are there causes Wherefore our Queen and Council at this time Adjad^e him to t!ie death. He hath been a traitor, A shaker and confounder of the realm ; And when the King's divorce was sued at Rome, He here, tliis heretic metropolitan. As if he had been tlie Holy Father, sat And judged it. Did I call him heretic 1 A huge heresiarch ! never was it known That any man so writing, preaching so. So poisoning the Church, so long continuing, ACr IV.] QUKEN MART. 85 IlaLh found his pardon ; therefore lie must die, For warning and example. Other reasons There be for this man's ending, whicii our Queen And Council at tliis present deem it not Expedient to be known. Protestant murmurs. I warrant you. Cole. Take therefore, all, example by this man, For if our holy Queen not pardon him, Much less shall others in like cause escape, That all of you, the highest as the lowest. May learn there is no power against the Lord. There stands a man, once of so high degree, Chief prelate of our Church, archbishop, first In council, second person in the realm, Friend so long time of a mighty King ; And now ye see downfallen and debased From councillor to caitiff — fallen so low, The leprous flutterings of the byway, scum And offal of the city would not change Estates with him ; in brief, so miserable There is no hope of better left for him. No place for worse. Yet, Cranmer, be thou glad. This is the work of God. He is glorified In thy conversion : lo ! thou art reclaim'd ; He brings thee home : nor fear but that to-day Thou slialt receive the penitent thiel's award. And be with Christ the Lord in Paradise. Remember how God made the fierce fire seem To those three children like a jjleasant dew. Remember, too, The triumi)h of St. Andrew on his cross, The patience of St. Lawrence in the fire. Thus, if thou call on God and all i.lie saints, God will beat down the fury of the flame, Or (five thee saintly strength to undergo. And for thy soul sliall masses here be sung By eveiy piiest in Oxford. Prsiy for him. Cran. Ay ! one anf! all, dear brothers, pray for me ; Pray with one breath, one heart, one soul, for me. Cole. And now, lest any one among you doubt The man's conversion and remorse of heart, Yourselves shall hear hnu speak. Speak, Master Cranmer, Fulfill your piomise made nie, and proclaim Your true undoubted faith, that all may hear. Cran. And that I will. Oh, God, Father of Heaven I 0, Son of God, Redeemer of the world ! 0, Holy Ghost ! proceeding from them both, Three persons and one God, have mercy on me, Most miserable sinner, wretched man. I have offended against heaven and earth More grievously than any tongue can tell. Then whither should I flee for any help 1 I am ashamed to lift my eyes to heaven, And I can find no rofuije u|)on earth. Shall I despair tiien ?— God forbid ! 0, God, so QUEEN MAKY. [aCT IV. For Tliou art merciful, refusing none That come to Thee for succor, unto Thee, Therefore, I come ; humble myself to Thee ; Saj'inir, Lurd God, although raj' sins be great, For Tli\' iireat mercj' iiave mercy ! U God the Son, Not for slight faults alone, when Thou becaiuesL Man in tiie flesh, was tlie great mystery wrought ; God the Father, not for little sins Didst Thou yield up Thy Son to human death : But for the greatest sin that can be sinn'd, Yea, even such as mine, incalculable, Unpardonable — sin against the light, The truth of God, which I had proven and known Thine mercy must be greater than all sin. Forgive me. Father, for no merit of mine, But that Thy name by man be glorified, And Thy most blessed Son's, who died for man. Good people, every man at time of death Would fain set forth some saying that may live After his death and better humankind ; For death gives life's last word a jiower to live. And, like the stone-cut epitaph, remain After the vanish'd voice, and speak to men. God grant me grace to glorify my God ! And first I say it is a grievous case. Many so dote upon this bubble world, AVhose colors in a moment break and fly, They care for nothing else. What sailh St. John : ' Love of this world is hatred against God." Again, I pray you all that, next to God, You do iinmuriuurinHly and willingly Obey your King and Queen, and not for dread Of tliese alone, but fiom the fear of Him Whose m, ulsters they be to govern you. Thirdly, I pny y(ui all to love tosjether Like brethren ; yet what hatred Christian men Bear to each oHier, seeming not as brethren, But mortal foes ' But do you good to all As much as in you lietli. Hurt no man more Than you would harm your loving natural brother Of the same roof, same breast. If any do, Albeit he think himself at home with God, Of this be sure, he is whole worlds away. Protkstant inu'-murs. What sort of brothers then be those that lust Ti> burn each other? WrLLiAiis. Peace among you, there. Cran. Foui'thly, to those that own exceeding wealth. Remember that sore saying si)oken once By Him that v»as the truth, " how hard it is For the rich man to enter into heaven;" Let all rich men remember that hard word. I have not time for more ; if ever, now Let them flow foitli in charity, seeing now The poor so many, and all food so dear. Long have 1 lain in jjrison, yet have heard O:' all their wretcherliiess. Give to the poor, Ye g'vc to God. He is with us in the poor. ACT IV.] QUKK\ MAUr. 87 And now, and forasmuch as I hava come To the last end of life, and theieupon Hanj^s all my past, and all my life to be, Either to live with Christ in heaven with joj', Or to be still in pain with devils in hell ; And seeing in a moment, I shall find ( pointing upwards) Heaven or else hell ready to swallow me, [pointing downwards) I shall declare to you my very faith Without all color. Cole. Hear him, my good brethren. Ckan. I do believe in God. Father of all ; In every article of the Catholic faith, And every syllable taught ns by our Lord, His piophets, and apostles, in the Testaments, Both Old and New. CoLB. Be plainer, Master Cranmer. Ckan. A'ld now I come to the ai'eat cause that weighs U[)on my conscience more than anything Or said or done in al! my life by me ; For there be vvritinss I have set abroad Against the truth I knew within my heart, Written for fear of death, to save my life. If that misht be ; the papers by my hand Sign'd sine J my degradation — by this hand {holding out his right hand) Written and sign'd — I here renounce them all ; And, since my hand offended, having wriiten Against, my heart, my hand shall first be burnt. So 1 may come to the fire, {dead silence. Protestant miirnmrs) First Puot. I knew it would be so. Second Pkot. Our prayers are heard 1 Third Pkot. God bless him ! Catholic mttnnurs. Out upon him ! out upon him ! Liar I dissembler ! traitor ! to the fire ! Williams {raising his voice). You know that you recanted all you said Touching the sacrament in that same book You wrote against my Lord of Winchester ; Dissemble not ; play the plain Christian man. Cean. Alas, my Lord, 1 have been a man loved pUiimiess all my life ; I did dissemble, but the hour has come For utter truth and plainness ; wherefore, I say, I hold by all I wrote within that booii. Moreover, As for the Pope I count him Antichrist, With all his devil's doctrines ; and refuse, Reject him, and abhor him I have said. (Cries on all sides. " Pull him down ! Away with him !") Colf:. Ay, stop the heretic's raouih. Hale him away. ^\ illiams. Harm him not, harm him not ; have him to the fire. Cranmi^u goes out befiven Uvo Friars, smiling ; hands are reached to him from the crowd. Lord William Howard and Lord Paget are left alone in the church. Pagkt. The nave and aisles all empty as a fool's jest ! No, here's Lord William Howard. Wli;it my Lord, 88 QUEKN MAKY. [aCT IV. Yon have not gone to see the binning ? HowAUD. Fie ! To stand at ease, and stare as at a sho-.v, And watch a good man burn. Never again. I saw the deatlis of Latimer and Ridley. Moreover, tho' a Catholic, I would not, For the pure honor of our common nature, Hear what I might — another recantation Of Cramner at the stake, Paget. You'd not hear that. >■ He pass'd out smilingt, and he walk'd uprialit ; His eye was like a soldier's whom ihe general He looks to and leans on as his God, Hath rated for some backwardness and bidd'n hiin Charge one against a thousand, and the man Hurls his soil'd life against the pikes and dies. HowAiiD. Yet that he misht not after all those i)apers Of recantation yield asain, who knows 1 Paget. Papers of recantation ; think you then Tliat Crannier read all papers that he sign'd 1 Or sign'd all tliose they tell us that he sign'd "? Nay, I trow not : and you shall see, my Lord, . ^. That howsoever hero-lil'jh, my Lord I poor garrulous country wives. Buy you their cheeses, and they'll side with you ; You cannot judaic the liquor from the lees. IIow^AiiD. 1 think that in some sort we may. But see, Elder PiiTER.?. L. 1 E.. in deep distress. Peters, my gentleman, an honest Catholic, Who follow'd with the crowd to Ciannier's fire. One that would neither misreport nor lie. Not to gain Paradise ; no, nor if the Po[)e Charged him to do it-^he's white as death. Pete;?, how pale you look ! you bring the smoke Of Cranmer's burning with you. Pkteks. Twice or thrice Tli3 smoke of Cranmer's burning wrapt me round. Howard (c). Peters, you know me Catholic, but English. Did he die bravely 1 Tell me that, or leave All else untold. Peters (l.). My Lord, he died most bravely. PIowAUD. Then tell me all. Paget. Ay, Master Peters, tell us. Peticks. You saw him how he past among the crowd ; And ever as he walk'd, the Spanish friars Still ))lied him with entreaty and reproach : But Cranmer, as the helmsman at tiie helm Steers, ever looking to the happy haven Where he shall rest at night, moved to his death ; And I could see tiiat many silent hands Came from the crowd and met his own ; and thus When we had come where Ridley burnt with Latimer, He, with a cheerful smile, as one whose mind Is all made up, in haste put otf the rags They had mock'd his misery with, and all in white, His long while beard, which he had never shaven Since Heni-y's death, down-sweepins to the chain, Wherewith they liound him to the stake, he stood, iMore like an ancient fither of the Churcli, Than heretic of llieso limes ; and still the friars Plied him, but Cranmer only shook his head. 92 QtTEKN MAltr. [aCT V. Or ansvver'd them in smiling negatives ; Whereat Lord Williams gave a sudden cry: — " Make sliort! make sliorL !" and so they ht the wood. Then Cranmer lifted his left hand to heaven, And thrust his right into the bitter flame ; And crying, in his deep voice, more than once, " This halh offended — this uiiworlliy hand! " So held it till it all was burn'd, before The flame had reach'd his body ; I stood near — Mark'd him — he never uttered moan of pain : He never stirr'd or writhed, but, like a statue, Unmoving in the greatness of the flame. Gave up the ghost; and so past, martyr-like — Martyr I may not call him — past— but whither 1 Paget. To purgatory, man, to purgatory. Peteks. Nay, but, my Lord, he denied purgatory. Paget. Why, then, to heaven, and God ha' mercy on him, HowAKD. Paget, despite his fearful heresies, I loved tlie man, and needs must moan for hiui ; Cranmer ! Paget. But your moan is useless now : Come out, my Lord ; it is a world of fools. [IJxeuiil, r. 1 e. ACT v.* SCENE 1.— London. Sail m the Palace. Q0BEN and Sir Nicholas Hbath enter, l. 1 e. Heath (l. c ). Madam, I do assure you that it must be look'd to : Calais is but ill-garrison'd, in Guisnes Are scarce two hundred men, and tlie French fleet Rule in the narrow seas. It must bo look'd to. If war should fall between yourself and France ; Or you will lose your Calais. Philip appears, r. 2 e. — pauses.' Mary (c). It shall be look'd to ; I wish you a good morning, good Sir Nicholas : Here is the King. [Heath Makes his obeisance and exits, l. 1 e., as Philip advances. Phil. (r. c ). Sir Nicholas tells you true, And you must look to Calais when I go. Mary. Go ! must you go, indeed — again — so soon ? Why, nature's licensed vagabond, the swallow. That might live always in the sun's warm heart.. Stays longer here in our poor north than you : — Knows where ho nested — ever comes again. Phil, (eoldly tliroughout). And, madam, so shall I. Maiiy, 0, will you ? will you ? * Act IV. in representation. ACT V.J UDKKN MAKY. 93 I am taint wiMi fear that you will come n^ i..uic. Phil. Ay, ay ; but many voices call me hence. Mauy. Voices — I hear unhappy rumors — {Philip frowns) nay, I say not I believe. What voices call you Dearer than mine that should be clearest to you 1 " Alas, my Lord ? what voices and how many 1 " Phil. The voices of Castile and Ara^on, Granada, Naples, Sicily, and Milan — " The voices of Franche-Comte, and the Netherlands." " The voices of Peru and Mexico," " Tuni, and Oran, and the Philippines," And all the fair spice-islands of the East. Mary {admirimjly). Vou are the mijihtiest monarch upon earth, 1 but a little Queen; and .so, indeed. Need you the more ; and wherefore could you not Helm the huge vessel of your state, ray liege, Here, by the side of her who loves you most ? Phil. No, madam, no ! a candle in the sun Is all but smoke — a star beside the moon Is all hut lost; your people will not crown me— ^ Your people are as cheerless as your clime ; Hate me and mine : witness the brawls, the gibbets. Here swings a Spaniard — there an Englishman ; The peoples are unlike as their complexion ; Yet will I be your swallow and return — But now I cannot bide, (crosses.) Maht. Not to help me ? They hate me also for my love to you. My Philip; and these judgments on the land — Harvestless autumns, horrible agues, plague Phil, {sternly). The blood and sweat of heretics at the stake Is God's best dew upon the barren field. Burn more ! (crosses ) Mary (c, in agomj). I will, I will ; and you will stay. Phil. Have I not said 1 Madam I came to sue Your Council and yourself to declare war. " Mary. Sir, there are many EnglLsh. in your ranks " To help your battle. " Phil. So far, good. I say " I came to sue your Council and yourself " To declare war " against the King of Prance. Mary [with disapjMmtment). Not to see me ■? Phil, (coldly). Ay, madam, to see you. (aside) Unalterably and pesteringly fond ! (aloud) But soon or late you must have war with France ; King Henry warms your traitors at his hearth. Carew is there, and Thomas Stafford there. Courtenay, belike Mary. A fool and featherhead ! Phil. Ay, but they use his name. " In brief, this Henry '• Stirs up your land against you to the intent " That you may lose your English heritage. ' And then, your Scottish namesake marrying " The Dauphin, lie would weld France, England. Scotland, " Into one sword to hack at Spain and me. ^' Mary. And yet the Pope is now colleasued v.'iih France j " You make your wars upon him down in Italy — • 94 QUEEN MARr. [aCT V. " Philip, can that be well "? " Phil. Content you, raadam ; " You must abide my judgment, and ray lather's, "Wlio deems it a most just and holy war. " The Pope would cast the S[)nniard out of Naples ; ' He calls us worse than Jews, Moors, Saracens. " The Pope has pusli'd his horns beyond his mitre — " Beyond his province. Now, " Duke Alva will but touch him on the horns, " And he withdraws; and of his holy licad — '• For Alva is true son of the true church — " No hair is harm'd. Will you not help me there!" Mauy. Alas! the Council will not hear of war. They say your wais are not the wars of England. They will not lay more taxes on a land So huncrer-nipt and wretched ; and you know The crown is poor. •' AVe have given the church lands back ; " The nobles would not ; nay, they clapt their hands " Upon their swords when ask'd; and therefore God " Is hard upon the people." What's to be done 1 Sir, I will move them in your cause again, And we will raise us loans and subsidies Among the merchants ; and Sir Thomas Gresham Will aid us. There is Antwerp and the Jews, Phil. Madam, my thanks. Maky (eagcrlij). And you will stay your going 1 Phil, {evading the question). And further to discourage and lay lame The plots of France, altho' you love hernot, You must proclaim Elizabeth your heir. She stands between you and the Queen of Scots. iMaiiy. The Queen of Scots at least is Catholic. Phil. Ay, niMdam, Catholic; but I will not have The King of France the King of England too. Maky. But she's a heretic, and when I am gone, Brings the new learning back. PuiL. It must be done. You must proclaim Elizabeth your heir. Mart {subinisaivebj). Then it is done ; but you will stay your going Somewhat beyond your settled purpose 1 PuiL. (coldbj). No! Mauy. Wiiat, not one dayl PniL. {petidantly). You beat upon the rock. Mary (jnteously). And I am broken there. Phil, (sternly). Is this a place To wail in, madam ? what ! a public hall. Go in, I pray you. Mart [entreatingly). Do not seem so changed. Say go; but only say it lovingly. PniL. You do mistake. I am not one to change. I never loved you more. Mart. Sire, I obey you. Come quickly. PuiL, (c^wswy, K.). Ay! \_Exi,t Maky, sadly — lonldng back tearfully , L. 2 E. Enter Cou.NT de Fekia, l. 2 e. •] QUEEX MAI'.Y. 95 Feria (nsiik). The Queen in tears. Phil, i^turniufj round). Feria ! Has)>thou not mark'd — (a-Ivances) come closer to mine ear — How doubly aj.ed this Queen of ours liath yrown Since she lost hope of bearing us a ciiild ? Feria {l. c, subserviently). Sire, if your Grace hath raarlt'd it, so liave I. Phil. Hast thou not liijewise mark'd Elizabeth, Ho'.v fair and roya! — like a Queen, indeed 7 Fekia {as lefore). " Allow me the same answer as before — " That" if your Grace hath mark'd her, so have I. Phil, f pointcd'tj). Good, now ; methinks my Queen is like enougli To leave me by-and-by. Fehia. To leave you, sire 1 Phil, {cauiioiisly). I moan not lil;e to live. Ehzabetb — To Philibert of Savoy, as you know, We meant to wed her ; but I am not ;;ure She will not serve me better — so my Queen Would leave me — as — my wife. Feuia. Sire, even so. •• Phil. She will not have Prince Philibert of Savoy. " Feria. No, sire." Phil. I have to pray you, some odd time, To sound the Princess carelessly on this ; Not as from me, but as your fantasy ; And tell me how she tabes it. " Fekia. Sire, I will. " Phil. I am not certain but that Philibert " Shall be the man ; and I shall urge his suit " Upon the Queen, because I am not certain : " You understand me, Feria 1 Fehia. Sire, I do. Phil, (with meaning'). And if you be not secret in this matter — You understand me there, too ? Frria. Sire, I do. Phil. You must be sweet and supple, like a Frenchman. She is none of those who loathe the lioneyconib. [Exit Feuia, l, 2 e. Enter Renaud, k. 2 e. Uen. My liege, I bring yon goodly tidings. I'HiL. Well. Ren. There will be war with France at last, my liege ; Sir Thomas Stafford, a bull-headed ass, Sailing from Fiance, with thirty Englishmen, Hath taken Scarboro' Castle, north of York ; Proclaims himself protector, and affii ms The Queen has forfeited her right to reign By marriage with an alien — other things As idle ; a weak Wyatt ! Little doubt This buzz will soon be silenced ! but the Council (I have talk'd with some already) are for war 'i'liis is the fifth conspiracy liatcli'd in France; They show their teeth upon it; and your Grace, So you will take advice of mine, should slay Yet for a while, to shape and guide the event. Phil. Good ! Ronaid, I will stay then. 96 QUEEN MAKY. [aCT V. Ren. {artfuUy). Also, sire, Might I not say — to please your wife, the Queen '' Phil, {with a sinister laugh). Ay, Reiiard, if you care to put it so. [Exetmt, K. 2 e. SCENE 11.—^ room in the Pcdace. Mary and Cardinal Pole discovered, seatd. Lady Clarence and Alice standing in the recess of the windoiv in the hachground. Mary. Reginal Pole, what news hath plagued thy heart ■? What makes thy favor like the bloodless head Fall'n on llio block, and held up by the hair "? Philip ? Pole. No, Philip is as warm in hfe As ever, Mary. Ay, and then as cold as ever. Is Calais taken ? Pole. Cousin, there hath chanced A sharper harm to England and to Rome Tlian Calais taken. Julius the ThirdJ AVas ever just, and mild, and fatherlike; But this new Pope Caraffa, Paul the Fourth, Not only reft me of that legateship Which Julius gave me, and the legateship Anuex'd to Canterbury — nay, but worse — " And yet I must obey the Holy Father, " And so must you, {jood cousin ; — worse tlan all, " A passing bell toll'd in a dying ear — " He hath cited me to Rome, for heresy. Before his Inquisition, Mary. I knew it, cousin, But held from you all papers sent by Rome, That you might rest among us, till the Pofic, To compass which I wrote myself to Rome, Reversed his doom, and that you might not seem To disobey his Holiness. Pole. He hates Philip ; He is all Italian, an 1 he hates the Spaniard ; He cannot dream that I advised the war ; He strikes thro' me at Piiilip and yourself. Nay, but I know it of old, he hates me too ; So brands me in the stare of Christendom A heretic ! {i-iscs and paces up and doivn) " Now, even now, when bow'd before ray time, " The house half-ruin'd ere the lease be out; " When I should guide the church in peace at home, " After my twenty years of banishment, "And all my lifelong labor to uphold " The primacy — a hereiic. Long ago, " When I was ruler in the patrimony, " I was too lenient to the Lutheran, " And I and learned friends among ourselves " Would freely canvass certain Lutheranisms. " What then, he knew I was no Lutheran. " A heretic ! " He drew this shaft against me to the head. Acr T.J queb:n maky. 97 '■ When it was thought I miglit be chosen Pope, '' But then withdiew it. In full corisistoij^ " When I was made Archbisliop, he ajiproved me. " And how sI)ouId he have sent me Legate hiilier, " Deeming me lieretic "? and what heresy since ? '• But lie was evermore mine enemy, " And hates the Spaniard — fiery-choleric, " A drinker of black, strong, volcanic wines, " That ever makes him fierier." I, a heretic ! {biU.erly) {pauscK before Mary) Your Highness knows tliat in puruging heresy I have gone beyond your late Lord Chancellor — He cried Enough ! enough ! before his death. — Gone beyond him and mine own natural man " (it was God's cause) ;" so far they call me now, The scourge and butcher of their English church. Mary. Have courage, your reward is heaven itself. Pole [pacinrf to mid fro). They groan amen ; they swarm into the fire Like Hies — for what 1 no dogma. They know nothing. They burn for nothing. Mary. You liave done your best. Pole. Have done my best, and as a faithful son. That all day long hath wrouglit his father's work, When back he comes at evening hath the door Shut on him by the father whom he loved, His earlier follies cast into his teelh, And the poor son turn'd out into the street To sleep, to flie — I shall die of it, cousin, {pachin to and fro much disturbed.) Mart. I pray you be not so disconsolate ; I still will do mine utmost with the Pope. Poor cousin. Have I not been the fast friend of your life Since mine began 1 and it was thought we two Might make one flesh, and cleave unto each other As man and wife. Pole. Ah, cousin, I remember How I would dandle you upon my knee At lisping age. " I watch'd you dancing once " With your huge father ; he look'd the great Harry, " You but his cockboat ; prettily you did it, " And innocently." No — we were not made One flesh in happiness, no happiness here ; But now we are made one flesh in misery ; Our bridemaids are not lovely — Disappointment, Ingratitude, injustice, evil-tongue, Laboi'-in-vain. Mary. Surely, not all in vain. Peace, cousin, peace ! I am sad at heart myself. Pole {bitterly). Our altar is a mound of dead men's clay, Dug fiom the grave that yawns for us beyond ; And there is one death stands behind the groom, And there is one death stands behind the bride Mary. Have you been looking at the " Dance of Death 1 ' Pole {pausing before "^Ikv.^ excitedly, and prodmiiig papers). No; but these libellous papers which I found Strewn in your palace. Look you here— the Pope 98 QUEEN MA.Kr. [act V. Pointing at me with " Pole, the heretic, Thou hast burnt others, do thou burn thyself, Or I will burn thee !" and this other, see! " We pray continually for the death Of our accursed Queen, and Cardinal Pole." {aside) This last — I dare not read it her. * Mary {starting up — alarmed). Away ! Why do you bring me these 1 I thought you knew me better. I never read, I tear them ; they come back upon my dreams. The hands that write them should be burnt clean off As Cranmer's, and the fiends that utter them Tonoue-torn with pincers, lash'd to death, or lie Famishing in black cells, while famish'd rats Eat tliem alive. Why do they bring me these 7 Do you mean to drive me mad ? (crosses, excitedly pressing her hands to her Jtead.) Pole. I had forgotten How these poor libels trouble you. Your pardon, Sweet cousiii; and farewell ! " bubble world, Whose colors in a moment break and fiy !" Why, who said that? I know not — true enough! [puts up the papers, all hct the last, tvhich falls.) [Exits, l 1 e. Alice (aside). If Cranmer's spirit were a mocking one, And heard these two, there might be sport for him. (Lady Clarence advances to the Queen ) Mary (with fear and suspicion). Clarence, they hate me : even while I speak There lurks a silent dagger, listening In some dark closet, some long gallery, drawn, And panting for my blood as I go by. Lady C. Nay, madam, there be loyal papers too, And I have often found them. Mary. Find me one ! Lady C. Ay, madam ; but Sir Nicholas Heath, the Chancellor, Would see your Highness. Mary. Wherefore should I see him 1 Lady C. "Well, madam," he may bring you news from PhiHp. Mary [sinks into chair, r.). So, Clarence 1 Lady C. Let me first put up your hair ; It tumbles all abroad. Mary {despondingli/). And the gray dawn Of old age that never will be mine Is all the clearer seen. No, no ; what mattei's'? Forlorn I am, and let me look forlorn. Ikter Sir Nicholas Heath, l. 1 e. Heath (after saluting — speaks with hesitation). I bring your Majesty much grievous news I grieve to bring it. (pauses, then speaks with difficulty, and sor- roivfuUy) Madam, Calais is taken. Mary (fiercely — starting up). What traitor spoke 1 Here, let my cousin Pole Seize him and burn him for a Lutheran. Heath. Her Highness is unwell. I will retire. Lady C. Madam, your chancellor, Sir Nicholas Heath. ACT v.] QUKEN MABT. 99 Mart {sinks back in chair). Sir Nicholas 1 I am stunn'd — Nicholas Heath 1 {pitcoaslij, and vaguely) Methought some traitor smote me on the head. What said you, my good Lord, that our brave English Had sallied out from Calais and driven back The Frenchmen from their trenches ? Heath {sadly). Alas! no. Tliat gateway to the mainland over which Om- flag hath floated for two hundred' years Is Fiance again. Mary (stijltng her emotion). So ; but it is not lost — Not yet. [starts top, speaking vehemently, and pacing to and fro) Send out ; let England as of old Rise lionlike, strike hard and deep into The prey they are rending from her — ay, and rend The renders too. Send out, send out, and make Musters in all the counties ; gather all From sixteen years to sixty ; collect the fleet ; Let every craft that carries sail or gun Steer toward Calais, [stopping suddenly, c.) Guisnes is not taken yet ? Heath (l, c). Guisnes is not taken yet. Mary. There yet is hope. Heath. All, madam, but your people are so cold ; I do much fear that England will not care. Methiiiks there is no manhood left among us. Mary (vehemently). Send out ; I am too weak to stir abroad : Tell my mind to the Coimcil — to the Parliament ; Proclaim it to the winds. Thou art cold thyself To babble of their coldness. would I were My father for an hour ! Away now — quick ! [Heath bows and exits, l. 1 e. 1 hoped I had served God with all my might ! It seems I have not. Ah ! much heresy Shelter'd in Calais. Saints, 1 have rebuilt Your shrines, set up your broken images ; Be comfortable to me. Suffer not That my brief reign in England be defamed Thro' all her angry chronicles hereafter By loss of Calais, {piteously) Grant me Calais. "Philip, " We have made war upon the Holy Father " All for your sake : what good could come of that 1 " Lady C. No, madam, not aijainst the Holy Father; " You did but help King Philip's war with France. " Your troops were never down in Italy. " Mary." I am a byword. Heretic and rebel Point at me and make merry. Philip gone ! And Calais gone ! Time that I were gone too ! {sobs convulsively and leans on Lady Cr,AUENCE/(?r support.) Lady C. Nay, if the fetid gutter had a voice And cried I was not clean, what should I care 1 Or you, for heretic cries 7 And I believe, Spite of your melancholy Sir Nicholas, Your England is as loyal as myself. Mary {rousing herself ; then after a pause, seeing the paper dropped by Pole). There, there ! another paper ! Said you not lf)0 QUEEN MART. [aCT V. Many of these were loyal 1 Shall I try If this be one of such 1 Lady C. [alarmed). Let it be, let it be. " God pardon me ! I have never yet found one." Mart {picking it up — reads). " Your people hate you as your husband hates you." Clarence, Clarence, what have I done ? what sin Beyond all grace, all pardon 1 " Mother of God, " Thou knowest " never woman meant so well, And fared so ill in this disastrous world. My people hate me and desire my death. Lady C. No, madam, no. Mart {with grief ). My husband hates me and desires my death. Lady C. No, madam ; these are libels. Mart {much agitated and in weak tones). I hate myself and I desire my death, (sinks into the chair faint and exhausted ; Alice ad- vances timidly and speaks ivith soothing tenderness.) " Lady C. Long live your Majesty ! Shall Alice smg you " One of her pleasant songs 1 Alice, my child, " Bring us your lute. (Alice goes) They say the gloom of Saul " Was lighten'd by young David's harp. " Mart. Too youn^ ! " And never knew a Philip, {re-enter Alice) Give me the lute. " He hates me ! {she sings) " Hapless doom of woman happy in betrothing; ! " Beauty passes like a breath and love is lost in loathins : " Low, my lute ; speak low, my lute, but say the world is nothing— " Low, lute, low ! " Love will hover round the flowers when they first awaken ; " Love will fly the fallen leaf, and not be overtaken ; " Low, my lute ! oh, low, my lute ! we fade and are forsaken— " Low, dear lute, low ! " Take it away ! not low enough for me !" AncR. Your Grace hath a low voice. Maky {angrily). How dare you say it 1 Even for that he hates me. A low voice Lost in a wilderness where none can hear ! A voice of shipwreck on a shoreless sea ! A low voice from the dust and from the grave, (sinks from the chair on to the footstool) There, am I low enouuh now 1 {she appears to become unconscious.) Alice (aside). "Good Lord !" how grim and ghastly looks her Grace With both her knees drawn upward to her chin. There was an old-world tomb beside my father's, And this was open'd, and the dead were found Sitting, and in th's fashion ; she looks a corpse. Enter Lady Magdalen Dacres, l. 1 e. Ladt Magdalen. Madam, the Count de Feria waits without, In hopes to see your Highness. Lady C. (pointing to Mary). Wait he must— Her trance again. She neither sees nor hears. And may not speak for hours. Lady M. (l. c). Unhappiest Of Queens and wives and women. Alice {advancing to the foreground tvith Lady Magdalen). And all along Of Philip. ACT v.] QUEEN MAKY. 101 Lady M. {aside). Not so loud ! " Our Clarence there ■ " Sees ever such an aureole round the Queen, '■■ It gilds tlie greatest wronger of her peace, " Who stands the nearest to her." Alice {aside). Ay, this Philip; I used to love the Queen with all my heart-^ God help nie, but niethinks I love her less For such a dotage upon such a man. " I would I were as tall and strong as j'ou. " Lady M. I seem half-shamed at times to be so tall. " Alice. You are the stateliest deer in all the herd — " Beyond his aim — but I am small and scandalous, " And love to hear bad tales of Philip. " Lady M. Why V " 1 never heard him utter worse of you " Than that you were low-statured. " Alice. Does he think " Low stature is low nature, or all women's " Low as his ovvu 1 "Lady M. There you strike in the nail. " This coarseness is a want of fantasy. " It is the low man thinks the woman low ; '' Sin is too dull to see beyond himself. "Alice. Ah, Magdalen, sin is bold as well as dull. " How dared he 1 " Lady M. Stupid soldiers oft are bold. "Poor lads, they see not what the general sees, " A risk of utter ruin. I am not " Beyond his aim, or was not. "Alice. Who? Not you 1 " Tell, tell me : save my credit with myself. " Lady M. I never breathed it to a bird in the eaves, " Would not for all the stars and maiden moon " Our drooping Queen should know ! In Hampton Court " My window look'd upon the corridor ; " And I was robing; — this poor throat of mine " Barer than I should wish a man to see it— " When he we speak of drove the window back, " And, like a thief, push'd in his royal hand ; " But by God's providence a good stout staff " Lay near me ; and you know me strong of arm ; " I do believe I lamed his Majesty's " For a day or two, tho', give the devil his due, " I never found he bore me any spite." Alice. I would she could have wedded that poor youth, My Lord of Devon — " light enough, God knows, " And mixt with Wyatt's rising — and the boy " Not out of him — but neither cold, coarse, cruel, " And more than all — no Spaniard." Lady C. Not so loud. Lord Devon, girls ! what are you whispering here 1 Alice. Probing an old state-secret — how it chanced That this young Earl was sent on foreign travel, Not lost his head. IiADY C. There was no proof against him. Alice. Nay, madam ; did not Gardiner intercept A letter which the Count de Noailles wrote 102 QUEEN MART. [ ACT V. To that dead traitor, Wyatt, with full proof Of Courteiiay's treason ? What became of that 1 Lady C. Some say that Gardiner, out of love for him, Buiiit it, and some relate that it was lost Wiien Wyatt sack'd the Chancellor's house in South wark. Let dead things rest. Alice. Ay, and with hira who died Alone in Italy. Lady C. Much changed, I hear, " Had put off levity and put graveness on. " The foreign courts report him in his manner " Noble as his young person and old shield. " It might be so " — but all is over now ; He caught a chill in the lagoons of Venice, And died in Padua. Mary [looking up suddenly). Died in the true faith 1 Lady C. Ay, madam, happily. Mary. Happier he than I. Lady M. It seems her Highness hath awaken'd. Think you That I might dare to tell her tiiat the Count Maky {rising assisted bi/ Lady C). I will see no man hence forever- more, Saving my confessor, and my cousin Pole. Lady M. It is the Count de Feria, ray dear lad}'. Mary {vacantly). What Count? Lady M. The Count de Feria, from his Majesty, King Philip. Mary {^with sudden energy — during the speaking Lady Clarence and Alice assist her). Philip ! quick ! loop up my hair! Throw cusliions on that seat, and make it throne-like. Arrange my dress — the gorgeous Indian shawl That Philip brought me in our happy days — That covers all. So — am I somewhat queenlike, Bride of the mightiest sovereign upon earth 1 (strives to stand as erect as possible.) Lady C. Ay, so your Grace would bide a moment yet. Mary {excitedly). No, no ! he brings a letter. I may die Before I read it. Let me see him at once. Unter Copnt de Feria, l. 1 e. — kneels. Feria. I trust your Grace is well, {she offers her hand which he kisses, then rises, aside) How her hand burns ! Mary. I am not well, but it will better me, Sir Count, to read the letter which you bring. Feria. Madam, I bring no letter. Mary. How! no letter 1 Feria. His highness is so vex'd with strange affairs Mary {bitterly). That his own wife is no affair of his. FiiRiA. Nay, madam, nay ! he sends his veriest love. And says, he will come quickly. Mary. Doth he, indeed ? " You, sir, do yoii remember what yon said " When last you came to England ? " Feria. Madam, I brought " My Kins's congratulations; it was hoped " Your Highness was once more in happy state ACT T.] QUEEN MAEY. 103 " To give him an heir male. " Mart. Sir, you said more ; •' You said he would come quickly. I had horses " On all the road from Dover, day and niglit ; " On all the road from Harwich, niglit and day ; " But the child came not, and the husband came not; " And yet he will come quickly." . . . Thou hast learnt Thy lesson, and I mine. There is no need For Philip so to shame himself again. Return, And tell him that I know he comes no more. Tell him at last I know his love is dead, And that I am in state to bring forth death — Thou art commission'd to Elizabeth, And not to me. {sinks into chair.) Feria. Mere compliments and wishes, Bnt shall I take some message from your Grace 1 Mart. Tell her to come and close my dying eyes, And wear my crown, and dance upon my grave. Fetiia. Tlien I may say your Grace will see your sister 1 Your Grace is too low spirited. " Air and sunshine. " I would we had you, madam, in our warm Spain. " You droop in your dito London." Mart {fo Ladt Clarence"). Have him away, I sicken of his readiness. Ladt C. My Lord Count, {waving her hand) " Her Highness is too ill for colloquy." Feria. I wish her Highness better. '^ {aside) How her hand burns." Kneels and /i/sses her hand, then bows and exits. L. 1 e., pnusinj for a moment to look back at the QueeiV. Sloiv music, and Mart falls b ick gentlij in her chair, supported b;i Ladt Clarence ; Alice in an altitude of pity, anxiety, and fear, with clasped and upraised hands, standing behind, SCENE III. — A Rouse near London. Enter Elizabetu, l. 1 E., followed bij Steward of the Hoctsehold, and Attendants. Eliz, There's half an angel wrong'd in your account; Metliinks that I am all angel, that I bear it Without more ruffling. Cast it o'er again. Steward. I were whole devil if I wrong'd you, madam. [Exit Steward, l. 1 e. Attendant (l.). The Count de Feria, from the King of Spain. Eliz. (c. ). Ah! — let him enter. Nay, you need not go ; ( York. EE ""WITT^S ACTIUG I'l-AirS- No. 1 CASTE. An original Comedy in three acts, by T. W. Robertson. A lively and cflfctivu saiire upon the times, played successfully in America, at Wallack's. Five male and thre^ female characters. Costumes, modern. Scenery, the flrst and third acts, interior of a neat room ; the second a fashionable room. Time in representation, two hours and forty minutes. 2 NOBODY'S CHILD. A romantic Drama in three acts, by Watts Phillips. Eighteen male and three female characters. A domestic drama, wonderfully successful in London, as it aboundn in stirring scenes and capital situations. Costumes modern, suited to rural life in Wales. Scenery is wild and picturesque. Time in representation, two hours and a quarter. 3 £100,000. An orip-xnal Comedy in three acts, by Henry J. Byron. Eight male and four female characters. A most effective piece, played with applause at Wallack"s. Costumes of the day. Two scenes are required— a comfortably furnished parlor and an elegant apartment. Time in representation, one hour and three quarters. ^ DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. No. 28 A HAPPY PAIR. A Comedietta in one act, by S. Theyre Smith. One male and one female character. A neat dramatic eltetcli of a conjugal niisundorstaudlnf;. Modtjrn dresaos. Scene, a drawing room. Tiuiu in rcprcioutatioii, twenty miuutes. 29 TURNING THE TABLES. A Tare© in one act, by John Poole. Five male and three female characters. One of the happiest efforts of the famous author of " Paul Pry." The part of Jereminh Bumps is re- dolent with quaint humor. A standard actinT GUILTY. A Drama in f 3ur acts, by Watts Phillips, en male and six female characters. A thrilling drama found upon a fact. tostumes of the present day. Scenery illustrative of localities about Southampton and its harbor, and of others iu India. Time in representa- tion, three hours. 85 LOCKED IN "WITH A LADY. A Sketch from Life, by II. K. Addison. One male and one female character. A very pleas- inirand humorous interlude. Costume of the day, and scene a bachelor's apartment. Time in representation, thirty-five minutes. 86 THE LADY OF LYONS; or. Love and Pride. A Play in five acts, by Lord Lytton (Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer). Twelve male five female characters. Four of the male characters are veiy good ones ; and Pauline, Madame De~chapelles and the Widow Melnotte are each excellent in their line. The piece abounds in eloquent declamation and spurklin? dialogue. This edition is the most complete in all respects ever issued. It occupies three hours in representation. The scenery, gardens and interior of cottage and mansion. Costumes French, of 1795. 87 LOCKED OUT. A Comic Scene, illustrative of what may occur after dark in a great metropolis ; by Howard Paul. One male and two female characters, with otliers unimportant. Scene, a street ; dress, mod- ern. Time in playing, thirty minutes. 88 FOUNDED ON FACTS. A Farce in one act, by J. P. Wooler. Four male and two female characters. A favorite acting piece, easily put on the stage and never failing in success. Costumes of the pres- ent day. Scene, a hotel parlor. Time in representation, thirty-five minutes. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 89 AUNT CHARILOTTE'S MAID. A Farce in mo p. t, ; J. Maddison .Morton. Tiirec uiak- anil three ftmale characters. One of Ih best of this prolific humorist'H dramatic pieces, la-esses of the period, and j scene an apartment iu a dwelling house. Time in representation, forty minutes. 90 ONLY A HALFPENNY. A Farce in on© act, by John Oxenford. Two male and two female characters. Dresses of the jiresent day, and scene an elegantly furnished interior. Time iu representation, thirty-live minutes. 91 WALPOLE ; or, Every Man has his Price. A Comedy in rhyme, bv Lord Lytton. Seven male and two female characters. Costumes of "the period of (ieorge I of England. Scenery illustrative of London locali- ties, and residences of the same era. Time of playing, one hour and ten minutes. 92 MY WIFE'S OUT. A Farce in one act, by G. Herbert Rodwell. Two male and two female characters. This piece had a suc- cessful run at the > ovent Garden Theatre, London. Costume modern, and scene an artist's studio. Time in represeniation, forty minutes. 93 THE AREA BELLE. A Farce in one act, by "William Brough and Ar.drew Ilalliday. Three male and two female characters. Costumes of the present time, and scene a kitchen. Time in performing, thirty minutes. 94 OUR CLERKS ; or, No. 3, Fig Tree Conrt, Temple. An original Farce, in one act. Seven male and five female characters. Costumes modern, and scene a large sitting room solidly furnished. Time in represen- tation, sixty-five minutes. 95 THE PRETTY HORSE BREAKER. A Farce, by W^il- liam Brough and Andrew Ilalliday. Three male and ten female characters. Costumes modern English, and scene a brealifast room in a f ashionble man- sion. Time of playing, forty-five minutes. 96 DEAREST MAMMA. A Comedietta in one act, by W^al- ter Gordon. Four male and three female characters. Costume modern English, and scene a drawing room. Time in representation, one hour. 97 ORANGE BLOSSOMS. A Comedietta in one act, by J. P. Wooler. Three male and three female characters. Costume of the present day, and scene, a garden with, summer house. Time in playing, fifty minutes. 98 W^HO IS W^HO ? or, All in a Fog. A Farce, adapted from the French, by Thomas J. Williams. Three male and two female char- acters. Costumes, modern English dresses, as worn by country gentry ; and scene, parlor, in an old fashioned country house. Time of playing, thirty minutes. 99 THE FIFTH W^HEEL. A Comedy in three acts. Ten male and two female characters. An excellent American production, easily managed. Costumes of the modern day. Scenery not complicated. Time of representation, about one hour and three quarters. 100 JACK LONG. A Drama in two acts, by J. B. John- stone. Nine male and two female characters. Costume of the frontiers. Scenery illustrative of localities on the Texan frontier. Time of perform- ance, one hour and twenty minutes. 101 FERN ANDE ; or. Forgive and Forajet. ADramainthree acts, by Victorien Saidou. Eleven male and ten female characters. This is a correct version of the celebrated plav as performed in Paris and adapt- ed to the Ei.glish stage, by Henry L. Williams, Jr. Costumes, modern French. Scenery, four interiors. Time In representation, three hoiu-s. 102 FOILED; or, a Struggle for Life and Liberty. A Drama in four acts, by O. W. Cornish. 9 males, 3 females. Co.stnmes. modern American. Scenery — a variety of scenes required, but none elaborate. Time in representation, three and a half hours. 103 FAUST AND MARGUERITE. A romantic Drama in three acts, translnted from the Krench of Michel Carre, by 'I'liomas William Robertson. Nine male and seven female characters. Costumes German, of the sixteenth century ; doublets, trunks, tights. Scenery, a laboratory, tavern, garden, street and tableau. Time in representation, two hours. 104 NO NAME. A Drama in five acts, by "Wilkie Collins. Seven male and five female characters. A dramatization of the author's popular novel of the same name. Costumes of the present day. Scenery, four interiors and a sea view. Time in representation, three hours. 105 WHICH OF THE TWO. A Comedietta in one act, by John M. Morton. Two male and ten female characters. A very neat and interesting pe'.ty come ly. Costume Russian. Scene, public room of an Inn. Time of playing, fifty minutes. 106 UP FOR THE CATTLE SHOW^. A Farce in one act, by Harry Lemon. Six male and two female characters. Costumes Eng- lish, of the present day. Scene, a parlor. Time in representation, forty minutes. 107 CUPBOARD LOVE. A Farce in one act, by Frederick Ilay. Two male and one female characters. A good specimen of broad comedy. Dresses modern, and scene, a neatly furnished apartment. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 108 MR. SCROGGINS; or, Change of Name. A Force in one act, by William Hancock. Three male and three female characters. A lively piece. Costumes of the present day. Scene, a drawing room. Time in representation, forty minutes. 109 LOCKED IN. A Comedietta in one act, by J. P. W^ool- er. Two male and two female characters. Costumes of the period. Scen*^, a drawing room. Time in representation, thirty minutes. 110 POPPLETON'S PREDICAMENTS. A Farce in one act, by Charles M. Rae. Three male and six female characters. Costumes of the day. Scene, a drawing room. Time in representation, forty min- utes. 111 THE LIAR. A Camody in two acts, by Samuel Foote. Seven male aud two female characters. One of the best actina: plays in any language. Costumes, embroidered court dresses, silk sacques, &c ; still the modern dress will suffice. Scenes — one, a park, the other a diaw- ing room. Time in representation, one hour and twenty minntes. This edition, as altered by Charles Mathevrs, is particularly adapted for amateurs. 112 NOT A BIT JEALOUS. A Farce in one act, by T. W^. Robertson. Three male and three female characters. Costumes of the day. Scene, a room. Time of playing, forty minutes. 113 CYRIL'S SUCCESS. A Comedy in five acts, by Henry J. Byron. Ten male and four feaiale characters. Costumes modern. Scenery, four interiors. Time in representation, tliree hours twenty minutes. 114 ANYTHING FOR A CHANGE. A petite Comedy in one act, by Shirley Brooks. Three male and three female characters. Costumes present day. Scene, an interior. Time iu representation, fifty- one minutes. 115 NEW MEN AND OLD ACRES. A Comedy in three acts by Tom Taylor. Eight male aud five female characters. Costumes present day. Scenery somewhat complicated. Time in representation, two hours. 116 I'M NOT MESILF AT ALL. An original Irish Stew in one act, by C. A. Maltby. Three male and two female characters. Cos- tume of present day, undress uniform, Irish peasant and Highland dress. Scene, a room. Time in playing twenty-eight minutes. •v> DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 117 NOT SUCH A POOL AS HE LOOKS. A farcical Drama in tlifcc acts, by Ileiiry J. Byron. Five male and four female char- acters. E.vcellent for amateurs. Costumes of the day. Scenery, three interiors. Time in representation, two hours. 118 WANTED, A YOUNG LADY. A Farce in oxie act, by W. R Suter. Three male characters. Effective for amateurs. Costumes of the day. Scene, a room. Time in playing, forty minutes. 119 A LIFE CHASE. A Drama in five acts, I13' Adolplx Belot ; transhited by John Oxenford and Horace Wigan. Fourteen male and live female characters. Costumes modern French. Scenery elaborate. Time in representation, two hours and twenty minutes. 120 A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT. Petite Comedy in one act. Two male and one female characters. Admirably adapted for private performance. Costumes of the day. Scene, an interior. Time of repre- sentation, thirty-tive minutes. 121 A COMICAIi COUNTESS. A Farce in one act, by "Wil- liam Brough. Three male and one female characters. Costumes French, of last century. Scene, a drawing room. Time in representation, forty minutes. 122 ISABELLA ORSINI. A romantic Drama in four acts, by S. II. Moseuthal. Eleven male and four female characters. Costumes Italian, three hundred years ago. Scenery complicated. Time in repre- sentation, three and a half hours. 123 THE TWO POLTS. A Farce in one act, by John Courtney. Pour male and four female characters. Costumes modern. Scenery, a street and two interiors. Time in representation, forty-fiv« minutes. 124 THE VOLUNTEER REVIEW^ ; or. The Little Man in Green. A Farce in one act, by Thomas J. Williams. Six male and six female characters. Easily localized, as the '• Home Guard," or "Militia Muster." Costumes of the day ; and scene, a room. Time in representa- tion, forty-Jive minutes. 125 DEERFOOT. A Farce in one act, by T. C. Bnrnand. Five male and one female characters. Costumes of the day; and scene, a public house. Time in playing, thirty-five minutes. 126 TW^ICE KILLED. A Farce in one act, by John Ox- enford. Six male and three female characters. Costumes mod-ern ; scene, landscape and a drawing room. Time in playing, forty-flve minutes. 127 PEGGY GREEN. A Farce in one act, by Charles Selby. Three male aud ten female characters. Costumes of the present day. Scene, a country road. Time in representation, forty-five minutes. 128 THE FEMALE DETECTIVE ; or. The Mother's Dying Child. A Drama in three acts, by C. H. Haalevvood. Eleven male and four female characters. Costumes of fifty years since. Scenery very elaborate. Time of playing two hours. -^ 129 IN FOR A HOLIDAY. A Farce in one act, by F. C. Burnand. Two male and three female characters. Costumes of ttie period, and scene an interior. Time in performance, thirty-five minutes. 130 MY W^IFE'S DIARY. A Farce in one act. From the French of MM. Dennery and Clairville, by T. W. Kobertson. Three male and one female characters. Costumes modern French, and scene a drawing room. Time in representation, fifty minutes. 131 GO TO PUTNEY. A Faroe in one act, by Harry Lemon. Four male and three female characters. Excellent for amateurs. Costumes of the day ; scene, a drawipg room. Time in representation, forty -five minute,^. DE -WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 132 A RACE FOR A DINNER. A Farce in one act, by J. F. G. Kodwell. Ten male characters. A sterling piece. Costumes of the day. Scene, a tavern exterior. Time in representation, sixty minutes. 133 TIMOTHY TO THE RESCUE. A Farce in one act, by Henry J. Byron. Four male and two female characters. In this laughable piece Spangle assumes several personifications. Costumes of the day, and scene a plain interior. Time in representation, forty-five minutes. 134 TOMPKINS, THE TROUBADOUR. A Farce in one act, by MM. Lockroy and Marc Michel. Three male and two female char- acters. Costumes modern, and scene an ironmonger's shop. Time in play- ing, thirty-five minutes. 135 EVERYBODY'S FRIEND. A Comedy in thfee acts, by J. Sterling Coyne. Si.K male and five female characters. Costumes modern, and scenery three interiors. Time in performance, two and a half hours. 136 THE WOMAN IN RED. A Drama in three acts and Prologue, by J. Sterling Coyne. Six male and eight female characters. Costumes French and Italian. Scenery complicated. Time of playing, three hours and twenty-five minutes. 137 L' ARTICLE 47; or Breaking the Ban. A Drama in three acts, by Adolph Belot, adapted to the English stage by Henry L. Williams. Eleven male and five female characters. Costumes French, of the day. Scenery elaborate. Time in representation, three houre and ten minutes. 138 POLL AND PARTNER JOE : or, The Pride of Put- ney and the Pressing Pirate. A Burlesque in one act and four scones, by F. C. Burnand. Ten male and three female characters. (Many sf the male characters are perfoiTned by ladies.) Costumes modern, and scenery local. Time of playing, one hour. 139 JOY IS DANGEROUS. A Comedy in two acts, hy James Mortimer. Three male and three female characters. Costume, modern French. Scenery, two interiors. Time in representation, one hour and forty-five minutes. 140 NEVER RECKON YOUR CHICKENS, &e. A Farce in one act, by Wybert Reeve. Three male and four female characters. Modern costumes, and scene, an interior. Time in representation, forty minutes. 141 THE BELLS ; or, the Polish Jew. A romantic moral Drama in three acts, by MM. Erckmann andChatrain. Nine male and three female characters. Costumes Alsatian, of present date. Scenery, two interiors and a court room. Time of playing, two hours and twenty min- utes. 142 DOLLARS AND CENTS. An oriscinal Am&rican Com- edy in three acts, by L. J. HoUenius, as performed by the Murray Hill Dramatic Associ;ition. Nine mule and four female characters. Costumes modern, and scenery, three interiors and one garden. Time in represen- tation, two and three quarter hours. 143 LODGERS AND DODGERS. A Farce in one act, by Frederick Hay. Four male and two female characters. Costumes of the present tirne. Scene, a furnished apartment. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes. One character a Yorkshire farmer. 144 THE LANCASHIRE LASS ; or, Tempted, Tried and True. A domestic Melodrama in four acts and a Prologue, by Henry J. Byron. Twelve male and three female characters. Costumes of the pres- ent day. Scenery, varied and difficult. Time in representation, three hours. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 145 FIRST liOVE. A Comedy in one act, by Eugene Scribe. Adapted to the American stajie by L. J. Hollonius. Four male and one female characters. Suitable for amateurs. Modern costumes, and scene, a parlor. Time in playing, forty-five minutes. 146 THERE'S NO SMOKE ^WITHOUT FIRE. A Come- dietta in one act, by Thomas Picton. One male and two female churac- terii. Costumes of the present day, and scene, an apartment. Time in representation, forty minutes. 147 THE OVERLAND ROUTE. A Comedy in three acts, by Tom Taylor. Eleven male and five female characters. Costumes East Indian (Kuropeau). Scenery, stcamshi]) saloon and declv, and coral reef. Time in representation, two hours and forty minutes. 148 CUT OFF 'WITH A SHILLING. A Comedietta in one act, by S. Theyre Smith. Two male and one female characters. Scene, a drawing room. Time in playing, twenty-five minutes. 149 CLOUDS. An American Comedy in four acts, by Fred. JIarsden (\V. A. Sliver). Eight male and seven female characters. Cos- tumes of the day. Scenery, cottage, river scene and drawing rooms. Time in representation, three hours. 150 A TELL-TALE HEART. A Comedietta in one act, by Thomas Picton. One male and two female characters. Excellent for private rejiresentation. (Costumes of the day. Scene, a villa room. Time in representation, forty minutes. 151 A HARD CASE. A Farce in one act, by Thomas Picton. Two male cliaracters. A most ludicrous piece for two performers. Costumes of the day. Scene, an interior. Time in playing, thirty-five minutes. 152 CUPID'S EYE-GLASS. A Comedy in one act, by Thomas Picton. One male and one female characters. Adapted for ama- teur performance. Costumes of the day, and scene, a drawing room. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes. 153 'TIS BETTER TO LIVE THAN TO DIE. A Farce in one act, by Thomas Picton. Two male and one female characters. Can be played readily and effectively by amateurs. Costumes, modem, and scene, an anisl's studio. Time iu representation, forty minutes. 154 MARIA AND MAGDALEN A. A Play in four acts, by L. J. Hollenius. Eight male, six female characters. An uniformly good stock company is alone needed to properly produce this charming piece. Costumes modern. Scenery, fine interiors and beautiful gardens. Time in representation, three hours. 155 OUR HEROES. A Military Play in five acts, eight allegorical tableaux, and ten grand pictures, including a grand transfor- mation tableau, by John B. Renauld. Twenty-four male and five female characters. Large parties *f retired volunteers can appear with great effect in this play. Costumes modern, civil and military. Scenery, interiors of dwellings, enc;unpments and battle-fielas. 156 PEACE AT ANY PRICE. A Farce in one act, by T. W. Robertson. One male and one female characters ; but a variety of voices are heard thronghout the piece, the speakers being invisible. A capital sketch for two lively amateur comedians. Costume modern. Scenery— there is but one scene throughout the piece— a meanly furnished apartment. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 157 QUITE AT HOME. A Comedietta in one act, by Arthur Sketciiley. Five male and two female characters. A real lively taking jsicce. All the char:icters passable. Costumes modern. Scenery, a shab- bily furnished apartment. Time in representation, forty-five minutes. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 158 SCHOOL. A Comedy in four acts, by T.'W. Boliertson. Six male and sis female characters. Is a very superior piece, and has three cliaracters unusually good for either sex. Could be played with fine effect at a j^'irls' seminary. Costumes modern. Scenery, English land- scape and genteel interiors. Time in representation, two hours and forty minutes. 159 IN THE "WRONG HOUSE. A Farce in one act, by Martin Bccher. Four male and two female characters. A very justly popuhir piece. Two of the male characters are excellent for light and low comedian. Good parts, too, for ayoung and old lady. Costumes modem. Scenery, an ordinary room. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes. 160 BLO"W FOR BLO'W. A Brama in a Prologue and thi-ee acts, by Henry J. Byron. Eleven male and six female characters. Full of homely pathos as well as rich humor. Has several excellent parts. Costumes modern. Scenery, interiors of offices and dwellings. Time in representation, three hours. 161 WOMAN'S VOWS AND MASONS' OATHS. In four acts, by A. J. H. Duganne. Ten male and four female characters. Has effective situations, line characters and beautiful dialogues. Costumes modern, with Fedenil and Confederate uniforms. Scenery, interiors in country houses, and warlike encampments. Time iu performance, two hours and thirty minutes. 162 UNCLE'S W^ILL. A Comedietta in one act, by S. 'i hey re Smith. Two male and one female characters. A brilliant piece ; can be easily played in a parlor. Costumes modern, and naval uniform for Charles. Scenery, set interior drawing room. Time in representation, thirty minutes. _, 163 MARCO RETTi. A romantic Drama in three acts, by John M. Kingdom. Ten male and three female characters. A thrillingly effective piece, full of strong scenes. Costumes, brigands and rich Italian's dress. Scenery, interior of castle, mountain passes, and princely ball room. Time in representation, two hours. 164 LITTLE RUBY ; or, Homo Jewels. A domestic Drama in three acts, by J. J. Wallace. Six nuile and six female characters. This drama is at once affecting and effective. Little Ruby fine per- sonation for young prodigy. Costumes modern. Scenery, interior of dwelling and gardens. Time in representation, two hours. 165 THE LIVING STATUE. A Farce in one act, by JoseT>b J. Dilley and James Allen. Three male and two female characters. Brim- ful of fim. Trotter a great character for a droll low comedian. Costumes modern, with one old Roman warrior dress. Scenery, a plain interior. 166 BARBELL vs. PICKW^ICK. A Farcical sketch in one act, arranged from Charles Dickens. Six male and two female cha- racters. Uncommonly funny. Affords good chance to 'take off" local legal celebrities. Costumes modern. Scenery, a court room. Time in performance, thirty minutes. 167 APPLE BLOSSOMS. A Comedy in three acts, by James Albery. Seven male and three female characters. A pleasing jjiece, with rich part for an eccentric comedian. Costumes modem English. Scenery, exterior and interior of inn. Time in representation, two hours and twenty minutes. 168 TW^EEDIE'S RIGHTS. A Comedy in two acts, by James Albery. Four male and two female characters. Has several ex- cellent characters. John Tweedie, powerful jjersonution ; Tim Whifllcr very funny. Costumes modern. Scenery, a stone mason's yard and modest interior. Time in representation, one hour and twenty-five minutes. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. No. 169 MY UNCLE'S SUIT. A Farce in one act, by Martin Becher. Pour male and one female characters. Has a jolly good low comedy part, a tine liirht comedy one, and :i brisk, pert lady's maid. Costumes modern. Scenery, a well furnislied sitting room. Time in rep- resentation, thirty minutes. ITO ONLY SOMEBODY; or, Dreadfully Alarming. A Farce in one act, by Conway Edwardes and Edward Cullerne. Four male and two female characters. Immensely funny. Full of quetT incidents. Every way fitted foj- amateurs. Costumes modern. Scenery, a garden and back of "a house. Time of playing, thirty minutes. 11 NOTHING LIKE PASTE. A Farce in one act, by Chas. Marsham Rae. Three male and one female characters. Every character Bupercxcellent. Billy Doo a regular Burtoiiian part. Admirable piece for amateurs. Costumes modern. Scenery, exterior of a small villa, with gardens. Time in representation, forty minutes, 112 OURS. A Comedy in three acts, by T. W. Robertson. Six male and three female characters. One of the best and most admired plays in our language— while a fair stock company can play it acceptably. It has several characters fit for stars. Costumes modern, with British military uniforms. Scenery, gardens, park, drawing room, and rude hut in the Crimea. Time of representation, two hours and thirty minutes. 113 OFF THE STAGE. An entirely original Comedietta in one act, by Sydney Rosonfeld. Three male and three female characters, all equally excellent. One of the sprightliest. wittiest and most amusing little plays ever written, causing almost an hour's constant merriment. Costumes modern. Scene a handsome interior. 174 HOME. A Comedy in three acts, by T. W. Robertson. Four male, three female characters. A charming piece. Needs but a small company. Every character very good. Costume.s modern. Only one scene throughout the play. Time of representation, two hours. 175 CAST UPON THE WORLD. An entirely Original Drama in five acts, by Charles E. Newton. Ten male, five female charac- ters. A remarkably effective piece. Costumes modern. Scenery some- what elaborate, but very fine. Time of representation, two hours and thirty minutes, 176 ON BREAD AND 'WATER. A Musical Farce in one act, being a free adaptation from the German, by Sydney Rosenfeld. A rollicking little pitce. One male and two female characters. Containing a brilliant soubrettc part. Costumes modern. Scene an uncarpeted school room. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes. ITT I SHALL INVITE THE MA.TOR. A Parlor Comedy in one act, by G. von Moser. Containing five characters, four male and one emale. A very pleasing little play, with good parts for all. Very bright and witty. Costumes modern. Scene, a handsome interior. Time in representation, forty minutes. 178 OUT AT SEA. An entirely Original Romantic Drama in a prologue and four acts, by Charles E. Newton. Sixteen male, five female characters. Powerfully written. Full of strong situations. Very telling scenic effects. Costumes modern. Time in representation, two hours and ten minutes. 179 A BREACH OF PROMISE. An extravagant Comic Drama in two acts, by T. W. Robertson. Five male, two female charac- ters. A capital, very merry piece. Good for amateurs. Time in repre- sentation, one hour. Scenery, two interiors. Costume, modern. 180 HENRY THE FIFTH. An Historical Play in five acts. By William Shakspeare. Thirty-eight male, five female character.s. This grand play has a rare blending of the loftiest tragedy, ^nth the richest and bro.idest humor. This edition is the most coniplfte m every respect ever published. Costumes rich and expensive. Scenery, etc., very elaborate. Time of representation, three hours. " Let those laugh now who never laughed hefore ; And those who always laughed now laugh the more." Nothing SO thorough and complete in the xvay of Ethiopian and Comic Dramas has ever been printed as those that appear in the following list. Not only are the plots excellent, the char- acters droll, the incidents funny, the language humorous, but all the situations, by-play, positions, pantomimic business, scenery and tricks are so plainly set down and clearly explained, that the merest novice could put any of them on the Stage. In- cluded in this Catalogue are all the most laughable and effective pieces of their class ever produced. *^* In ordering, please copy the figures at the commencement of each Play, which indicate the number of the piece in " De Witt's Ethiopian AND Comic Drama." d^" Any of the following Plays sent, postage free, on receipt of price — fifteen cents. Address as on first page of this Catalogue. BE WITI'S ETHIOPIAH m COMIC DEAHA. 1 THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. An EtMopian Sketch. by J. C. Stewart. Three male and one female characters. Costumes of the day, except Indian chins, Jtc. Two scenes, chamber and wood. Time in representation, eighteen minutes. 2 TRICKS. An Ethiopian Sketch, by J. C. Stewart. Five male and two female characters. Costumes of the period. Two scenes, two interiors. Time in representation, eighteen minutes. 3 HEMMED IN. An Ethiopian Sketch, hy J. C. Stewart. Three male and one female characters. Costumes modern, and scene, a studio. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 4 EH ? WHAT IS IT ? An Ethiopian Sketch, hy J. C. Stewart. Four male and one female characters. Costumes of the day, and scene, a chamber. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 5 TWO BLACK ROSES. An Ethiopian Sketch, by J. C. Stewart. Four male and one female characters. Costumes modern, and scene, an apartment. Time in representation, twenty minutes. DE WITT'S ETHIOPIAN AND COMIO DRAMA. 6 THE BliACK CHAP FROM 'WHITECHAPEIi. Am eccentric Nesjro Piece, adapted from Bwrnand and Williams' " B. B" by Uenry L. Williams, Jr. Four male chiiractors. Costumes modern. Scene, an interior. Time in representation, thirty minutes. 7 THE STUPID SERVANT. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by Charles White. Two male characters. Characters very droll ; fit for star "darky" players. Costumes modern and fantastic dresses. Scenery, an ordinary room, 'iime in representation, twenty minutes. 8 THE MUTTON TRIAL. An Ethiopian Slietch in two scenes, by James Maflit. Four male characters. Capital burlesque of courts of "justice;" all the parts good. Costumes modern and Quaker. Scenery, a wood view and a court room. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 9 THE POLICY PLAYERS. An Ethiopian Slietch in one scene, by Charles White. Seven male characters. A very clever satire upon a sad vice. Costumes modern, and coarse negro ragged clothes. Scenery, an ordinary kitchen. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 10 THE BLACK CHEMIST. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by Charles Wh te. Three male characters. All the characters are A 1, funny in thH extreme. Costumes modern or Yankee— extravagant. Scenery, an apothecary's laboratory. Time iu representation, seventeen minutes. 11 BLACK-EY'D WILLIAM. An Ethiopian Sketch in two scenes, by Charles White. Pour male, one female characters. All the parts remarkably good. Costumes as extravagant as possible. Scenery, a police court room. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 12 DAGUERREOTYPES. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by Charles White. Three male characters. Full of broad hnmor ; all characters excellent. Costumes modern genteel, negro and Yankee garbs. Scenery, ordinary room with camera. Time in representation, fifteen minutes. 13 THE STREETS OF NE^W YORK; or, New York hy Gaslight. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by Charles White. Six male characters. Three of the parts very droll ; others good. Costumes some modern, some Yankee and some loaferish. Scenery, street view. Time in representation, eighteen minutes. 14 THE RECRUITING OFFICE. An Ethiopian Sketch in one act, by Charles White. Five male characters A piece full of incidents to raise mirth. Three of the paits capital. Costumes extravagant, white and darkey, and a comical uniform. Scenery, plain chamber and a street. Time in representation, fifteen minutes. 15 SAM'S COURTSHIP. An Ethiopian Farce in one act, by Charles White. Two male and one femaile characters. All the charac- ters particularly jolly. Two of the parts c;in be played in either white or black, and c. no in Dutch. Costumes Yankee and modern. Scenery, plain chamber. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 16 STORMING THE FORT. A hnrlesqne Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by Charles White. Five male characters. Kichly ludicrous ; all the characters funny. Costumes fantastical, and extravagant military uniforms. Scenery, ludicrous "take oil" of fortifications. Time in repre- sentation, fifteen minutes. n THE GHOST. An Ethiopian Sketch in one act, hy Charles White. Two male characters. A right smart piece, full of laugh. Costumes ordinary " darkey " clothes. Scenery common looking kitchen. Time in representation, fifteen minutes. 18 THE LIVE INDIAN; or, Jim Crow. A comical Ethi- opian Sketch in four scenes, by Dan Bryant. Four male, one female characters. As full of fun as a hedgehog is full of bristles. Costumes modern and darkey. Scenery, chamber and street. Time in representation, twenty minutes. DE WITT'S ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMA. 19 MALICIOUS TRESPASS ; or. Points of Law. An Ethi- opian Sketch in one scene, by Ciiarles Wliite. Tliree male characters. Extravagantly comical ; all the parts very jrood. Costumes extravagant modern "garbs. Scenery, wood or landscape. Time of playing, tvfenty minntes. 20 GOING FOR THE CUP ; or, Old Mrs. "Williams' Dance. An Ethiopian Interlude, by Charles White. Pour male characters. One capital part for a bright juvenile ; the others very droll. Costumes modern and darkey. Scenery, a landscape or wood. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 21 SCAMPINI. An anti-tragical, comical, ma^;i<3Al and laughable Pantomime, full of tricks and transformations, in two scenes, by Edward Warden. Six male, three female characters. Costumes extra- vagantly eccentric. Scenery, plain rustic chamber. Time in representa- tion, thirty minutes. 22 OBEYING ORDERS. An Ethiopian Military Sketch in one scene, by John Arnold. Two male, one female characters. Mary Jane, a capital wench part. The piece very jocose. Costumes ludicrous military and old style dresses. Scenery either plain or fancy chamber. Time of playing, iifteen minutes. 23 HARD TIMES. A Negro Extravaganza in one scene, by Daniel D. Emmett. Five male, one female characters. Needs several good players— then there is " music in the air." Costumes burlesque, fashionable and low negro dresses. Scenery, a kitchen. Time in represen- tation, twenty minutes. 24 BRUISED AND CURED. A Negro Bnrlesqne Sketch in one scene, by A. J. Leavitt. Two male characters. A rich satire upoa the muscular furore of the day. Costumes tights and guernsey shirts and negro dress. Scenery, plain chamber. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 25 THE FELLOW THAT LOOKS LIKE ME. A langhaimle Interlude in one scene, by Oliver Durivarge. Two male cliaracters— one female. Boiling over with fun, especially if one can make up like Lester Wallack. Costumes genteel modern. Scenery, handsouie chamber. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes, 26 RIVAL TENANTS. A Negro Sketch, by George L. Stont. Pour male characters. Humorously satirical ; the parts all very funny- Costumes negro and modern. Scenery, an old kitchen. Time of playing, twenty minutes. 27 ONE HUNDREDTH NIGHT OF HAMLET. A Negro Sketch, by Charles \\ hite. Seven male, one female characters. Affords excellent chance for imitations of popular "stars." Costumes modern, some very shabby. Scenery, plain chamber. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 28 UNCLE EPH'S DREAM. An Original Negro Sketch in two scenes and two tableau.^, arranged by Charles White. Three male, one female characters. A very pathetic little piece, with a sprinkling of humor. Costumes, a modern southern dress and negro toggery. Scenery, wood, mansion and negro hut. Time in representation, twenty" minutes. 29 "WHO DIED FIRST ? A Nec:ro Sketch in one Scene, hy A. J. Leavitt. Three male, one female characters. Jasper and Hannah are both very comical personages. Costumes, ordinarj; street dress and common darkey clothes. Scenery, a kitchen. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 30 ONE NIGHT IN A BAR ROOM. A Bnrlesque Sketch, arranged by Charles White. Seven male characters. Has a funny Dutchman and two good darkey characters. Costume, one Dutch and several mod- ern. Scenery, an ordinary interior. Time in representation, twenty min- utes. DE WITT'S ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMA. ^. ' ;^ ■ 31 GLYCERINE OIL. An Ethiopian Sketch, hy John Ar- nold. Three male characters, all good. Costumes, (Quaker and eccentric modern. Scenery, a street and a kitchen. Time in representation, fifteen minutes. 32 WAKE UP, "WILLIAM HENRY. A Negro Sketch, ar- ranged by Charles White. Three male characters, which have been favor- ites of our best performers. Costumes modern — some eccentric. Scenery plain chamber. Time in representation, teu minutes. 33 JEALOUS HUSBAND. A Negro Sketch, arranged by Charles White. Two male, one female characters. Full of farcical dia- logue. Costumes, ordinary modern dress. Scenery, a fancy rustic cham- ber. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 34 THREE STRINGS TO ONE BOW^. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, arranged by Charles WLite. Four male, one female charac- ters. Full of rough, practical jokes. Costumes, modem. Scenery, a land- scape. Time in representation, fifteen minutes. 35 COAL HEAVERS' REVENGE. A Negro Sketch in one scene, by George L. Stout. Six male characters. The two coal heavers have " roaring" parts. Costumes, modern, Irish and negro comic make up. Scenery, landscape. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 36 LAUGHING GAS. A Negro Burlesque Sketch in one scene, arranged by Charles White. Sis male, one female characters. Is a favorite with our best companies. Costumes, one modern genteel, the rest ordinary negro. Scenery, plain chamber. Time of playing, fifteen min- utes. 37 A LUCKY JOB. A Negro Farce in t-wo scenes, arranged by Charles White. Three male, two female characters. A. rattling, lively Eiece. Costumes, modern and eccentric. Scenery, street and fancy cham- er. Time in representation, thirty minutes. 38 SIAMESE T"WINS. A Negro Burlesque Sketch, in two scenes, arranged by Charles White. Five male charac'ters. One of the richest in fun of any goin^. Costumes, Irish, darkey and one wizard's dress. Scenery, a street ana a chamber. Time in representation, twenty- five minutes. 39 "WANTED A NURSE. A langhahle STietch in one scene, arranged by Charles White. Four male characters. All the charac- ters first rate. Costume, modern, extravagant, one Dutch diess. Scenery, a plain kitchen. Time in representation, twenty minutes. 40 A BIG MISTAKE. A Negro Sketch in one scene, hy A. J. Leavitt. Four male characters. Full of most absurdly funny inci- dents. Costumes, modern ; one policeman's uniform. Scenery, a plain chamber. Time in representation, eighteen minutes. 41. CREMATION. iS.n Ethiopian Sketch in two scenes, hy A. J. Leavitt. Eight male, one female characters. Full of broad, palpable hits at the last sensation. Costumes modern, some eccentric. Scenery, a street and a plain chamber. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes. 42. BAD "WHISKEY, A comic Irish Sketch in one sceue, by Sam Rickey and Master Barnej. Two male, one female characters. One of the very best of its class. Extravagant low Irish dress and a police- man's uniform. 43 BABY ELEPHANT. A Negro Sketch in two scenes. By J. C. Stewart. Seven male, one female characters. Uproariously comic in idea and execution. Costumes, modern. Scenery, one street, one chamber. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes. 44 THE MUSICAL SERVANT. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by Phil. H. Mowrey. Three male characters. Very original and very droll. Costumes, modem and low darkey. Scenery, a plain chamber. Time in representation, fifteen minutes. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 45 REMITTANCE FROM HOME. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by A. J. Leavitt. Six male characters. A very lively piece, full of bustle, and fiiving half a dozen people a good chance. Time in repre- sentatiou, twenty minutes. 46 A SLIPPERY DAY. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by Robert Hart. Six male, one female characters. By a very simple mechan- ical contrivance, plainly planned and described in tliis book, a few persons can keep an audience roaring. Time in representation, sixteen minutes. 47 TAKE IT, DON'T TAKE IT. A Negro Sketch in one scene, by John Wild. Two male characters. Affords a capital chance for two good persons to "do" the heaviest kind of deep, deep tragedy. Time of representation, twenty-three minutes. 48 HIGH JACK, THE HEELER. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by A. J . Leavitt. Six male characters. Happily hits off the short- haired bragging "fighters" that can't lick a piece of big taffy. Time of playing, twenty minutes. 49 A NIGHT IN A STRANGE HOTEL. A laughable Negro Sketch in one scene, arranged by Charles White. Two male characters. Al- though this piece has ouly two personators, it is full of fim. Tiii^e in rep- resentation, eighteen minutes. 50 THE DRAFT. A Negro Sketch in one act asid t'wo scenes, by Charles White. Six male characters. A good deal of htimor of the Mulli- gan Guard . nd Awkward Squad style, dramatized. Time in representation, eiyhteeu minutes. 51 FISHERMAN'S LUCK. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, by Charles Wliite. Two male characters. Decidedly the best " lish story " ever told. It needs two "star " darkeys to do it. Time in rcprescn- tiitiou, fifteen minutes. 52 EXCISE TRIALS. A Burlesque Negro Sketch in one scene, arranged by Charles White. Ten male, one female characters. Full of strong local satire ; can be easily adapted to any locality. Time of repre- sentation, twenty minutes. 53 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. A Ne^ro Burlesque, by Chas. White. Five male, one female characters, in two scenes. A stunning bur- lesque of the highfalutin melodrama ; capital for one or two good imita- tors. Time of representation, lifteeu minutes. 54 THEM PAPERS. An Ethiopian Sketch in one scene, ty A. J. Leavitt. Three m.ile characters. Full of comical mystifications and absurdly funny situations. Time of representation, fifteen minutes. 55 RIGGING A PURCHASE. A Negro Sketch in one scene, by A. J. Leavitt. Three male characters. Full of broad comical effects. Time in representation, fifteen minutes. 56 THE STAGE STRUCK COUPLE. A laughable Inter lude in one scene, by Charles White. Two male, one female characters. Gives the comical phase of jiiveiiilc dramatic furor; very droll, contrasted with the matter-of-fact darkey. Time in represintation, fifteen mintitcs. 57 POMPEY'S PATIENTS. A laughable Interlude in two scenes, an-anged by Charles White. Six male characters. Very funny practical tricks of a fast youth to gain the gove nor's consent to hi ■: wed- ding his true love. Half a dozeu good chances for good actors. Time in representation, twenty minutes. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. No. 58 GHOST IN A PAWN SHOP. An Ethiopian Sketch In one ecene, by Mr. Mackey. Four tnulo characters. As comical as its title ; running over witli practical jokes. Time of repreeentatlon, twenty min- utes. 59 THE SAUSAGE MAKERS. A Ne^ro Burlesque Sketoh in two scenes, arrangt-d by (;li;irles White. Five male, one female charac- ters. An old story worked up with a deal of laughable effect. The ponder- ous sausage macliino and other properties need not cost more than a couple of dollars. Time of representation, twenty minutes. 60 THE LOST 'WILL. A Negro Sketch, hy A. J. Leavitt. Four male characters. Very droll from the word "go." Time of repre- fcentation, eighteen mimites. 61 THE HAPPY COUPLE. A Short Humorous scone, ar- ranged by Charles White. Two male, one female characters. A spirited burlesque of foolish jealousy. 8ara is a very frolicsome, and very funny young darkey. Time of playing, seventeen minutes. 62 VINEGAR BITTERS. A Negro Sketch in one scene, ar- ranojed by Charles White. Six male, one female characters. A broad bur- lesque of the popular patent medicine business ; plenty of humorous Inci- dents. Time of representation, fifteen minutes. 63 THE DARKEY'S STRATAGEM. A Negro Sketch in one act, arranged by Charles White. Three male, one female characters. Quaint courtship scenes of a pair of young darkies, ludicrously exaggerated by the tricks of the boy Cupid. Time of representation, twenty minutes. 64 THE DUTCHMAN'S GHOST. In one scene, hy Larry Tooley. Four male, one female characters. Jacob Schrochorn, tlie jolly shoemaker and his frau, are rare ones for raising a hearty laugh. Time of representation, fifteen minutes, 65 PORTER'S TROUBLES. An Amusing Sketch in one scene, by Ed. Harrigan. Six male, one female characters. A laughable ex- position of the queer freaks of a couple of eccentric lodgers that pester a poor " porter." Time in representation, eighteen minutes. 66 PORT WINE vs. JEALOUSY. A Highly Amusing Sketch, by William Carter. Two male, one female characters. Twenty minutes jammed full of the funniest kind of fun. 61 EDITOR'S TROUBLES. A Farce in one scene, hy Ed- ward Harrigan . Six male characters. A broad farcical description of the running of a country journal "under difficulties." Time of representa- tion, twenty-three minutes. 68 HIPPOTHEATRON OR BURLESQUE CIRCUS. An Extravagant, funny Sketch, by Charles White. Nine male characters. A rich burlesque of sports in the ring and stone smashing prodigies. Time of playing, varies with "acts" introduced. 69 SQUIRE FOR A DAY. A Negro Sketch, hy A. J. Leavitt. Five male, one female characters. The " humor of it " is In the mock judicial antics of a darkey judge for a day. Time of representation, twenty minutes. TO GUIDE TO THE STAGE. An Ethiopian Sketch, hyChaj. White. Three male characters. Contains some thumping theatrical hitsof the " Laj' on Macduff," style. Time of playing, twelve minutes. MAHtrSCEIPT PLATS. Belozu iVill hefoiind a List of nearly all the great Dramatic successes of the present and past seasons. Every one of these Plays, it will be noticed, are the productions of the most eminent Dramatists of the age. Nothing is omitted that can in any manner lighten the duties of the Stage Manager, the Scene Fainter or the Property Man. ON THE JURY. A Drama, in four Acts. By Watts Phil- lips. This piece lias seven male and four female characters. ELFIE; or, THE CHERRY TREE INN. A Rf>mantio Drama, in three Acts. iJy Dion BoucicauU. This piece has six male and four female characters. THE TWO THORNS. A Comedy, in four Acts. By James Albery. This piece has nine male and three female characters. A W^RONG MAN IN THE RIGHT PI.ACE. A Farce, in one Act. By John Oxenford. This piece lias one male and three female characters. JEZEBEL ; or, THE DEAD RECKONING. By Dion Bon- cicault. This piece has sis male and liw female characters. THE RAPAREE ; or, THE TREATY OF LIMERICK. A Drama, in three Acts. By Dion BLiucicault. This piece has nine male and two female characters. 'TWIXT AXE AND CROIVN ; or, THE LADY ELIZA- beth. Au Historical Play, in five Acts. By Tom Taylor. This piece has twenty-flve male and twelve female characters. THE TW^O ROSES. A Comedy, in three Acts. By James Albery. This piece has five male arid four female characters. M. P. (Mem'her of Pa^'linment.) A Comedy, in four Acts. By T. W. Robertson. This piece has seven male and five female characters. MARY W^ARNER. A Domestic Drama, in four Acts. By Tom Taylor. This piece has eleven male J^nd five female characters. PHILOMEL. A Romantic Drama, in three Acts. By H. T. Craven. This piece has six male and four female characters. UNCLE DICK'S DARLING. A Domestic Drama, in three Acts. By Henry J. Byron. This piece has six male and live female cha- racters. LITTLE EMXY. (David CopTjerfield.) A Drama, in four Acts. By Andrew Halliday. "Little Em'ly " lias eight male and eight female characters. DK WITT'S MANUSCRIPT PLATS. FORMOSA. A Drama, in four Acts. By Dion Boncicault. Tliis piece has eighteen male and eight female characters. HOME. A Comedy, in three Acts. By T. W. Robertson. " Home "' has four male and three female characters. AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN ; or, THE SQUIRE'S LAST Shilling. A Drama, in four Acts. By Henry J. Byron. This piece con- tains nme male, four female characters. FOUL PLAY. A Drama, iix four Acts. By Dion Boucicault. This piece has fourteen male and two female characters. AFTER DARK. A Drama, in four Acts. By Dion Bouci- cault. This piece has fourteen male and two female characters. ARRAH-NA-POGUE. A Drama, in three Acts. By Dion Boucicault. This piece lias fourteen male and two female characters. BREACH OF PROMISE. A Comic Drama, in two Acts. By T. W. Robertson. The piece has five male and two female characters. BLACK AND "WHITE. A Drama,intlireR Acts. ByWilkie Collins and Charles Fechter. This piece has six male and two female cha- racters. PARTNERS FOR LIFE. A Comedy, in three Acts. By Henry J. Byron. This piece lias seven male and four female characters. KERRY ; or. Night and Morning. A Comedy, in one Act. By Dion Boucicault. This piece contains four male and two female char- acters. HINKO ; or, THE HEADSMAN'S DAUGHTER. A Roman- tic Play, in a Pro oguo and five Acts. By W. O. Wills. The Prologue con- tains four male and tliree female characters. The I'lay contains ten male and seven female characters. NOT IF I KNOW IT. A Farce, in one Act. By John Mad- dison Morton. This piece contains four male and four female characters. DAISY FARM. A Drama, in four Acts. By Henry J. Byron • This piece contains ten male and four female characters. EILEEN OGE ; or. DARK'S THE HOUR BEFORE THE Dawn. A Drama, in four Acts. By Edmund Falconer. This piece con- tains fifteen male and four female characters. TTVEEDIE'S RIGHTS. A Comedy-Drama, in two Acts. By James Albery. This piece has four male, two female characters. NOTRE DAME; or, THE GIPSY GIRL OF PARIS. A Romantic Drama, in three Acts. By Andrew Ilalliday. This play has seven male, four female characters. JOAN OF ARC. A Tragedy, in Five Acts. By Tom Taylor. This piece has twenty-one male, four female characters. Manuscript copies of these very effective and very suc- cessful plays are now ready, and will be furnished to Man- agers on very reasonable terms. 5E WITT'S ELOCUTIOKAET SEEIES, PRICE IS CENTS EACH. Tottnff people who tvere desirous of acquiring a practical Jcnoivledge of the beauti- ful, as well as highly useful art of Reading and Speaking correctly and elegantly, have found great difficulty in procuring books that would teach them rather in the manner of a genial triend than an imperious master. Such books we here present to the public in " De Witt's Elocutionary Series.^' Not only are the selections made very carefully from the abundant harvest of dramatic literature, but the accomj)any- ing INSTRUCTIONS are so plain, direct and forcible, that the least intelligent can easily understand all the rules and pi ecepts of the glorious a' t that has immortalized Boscius and Kean, Chatham and Henry. No. 1. THE ACADEMIC SPEAKER. Containing an un- usual variety of striking Dramatic Dialogues, and otlier most effective scenes. Selected witti great care and judgment from the noblest and wittiest Dramas, Comedies and Farces most popular upon the best stages. Interspersed with such able, plain and practical criticisms and remarks upon Elocution and stage eflects, as to render this work the most valuable hand-book to the young orator that has ever been produced. COKTEIVTS.— General Inlrodurtory Remarks ; On llie quality of Selections ; On Tnie Eloquence j Oh Awkward Dellvcrv ; On Necessity of Attentive study ; On Appropriate Gesture ; On the Appearance ofLadies iipon the Sta^e ; The Stajje and the Curtain ; Remarks upon the suhject ofScenery ; How to easily Construct a Stags ; stage ArranKemeuts and Properties ; Keniarks upon improvising Wardrobes, etc., etc. There are Tweh'e pieces in this book that require fwo Male Cliaracters ; Six pieces that require siz Male Characters ; Two pieces that require Jour Male Characters. No. 2. THE DRAMATIC SPEAKER. Composed of many very carefully chosen Monolo{?iies, Dialogues and other effective Scenes, from the most famous Tragedies, Comedies and Farces. Interspersed with numerous Directions and'lastruclions for their proper Delivery and Per- formance. COWTEi'VTS.— There are three pieceil In this book that require oiK" Male Character; One that requires three Male Characte;9 ; 7'eM that require («'o Male Characters , Nine that require oiii> Male and one Female Characters ; Fniir that require three Male Characters ; One that requires two Male and one Female Characters ; One that requlies tico Female Characters ; One that requires one Male ami Itco Female Characters. No. 3. THE HISTRIONIC SPEAKER. Beinc; a careful- compilation of the most amusing Dramatic Scenes, light, gay, pointed, witty and sparkling. Selected from the most elegantly written and most theatrically effective Comedies and Farces upon the English and American Stages. Properly arranged and adapted for Amateur and Parlor Represen- tation. COSITEIMTS.— Tftrw of the pieces in this book require dm Female Characters; One piece requires Keven Female (Characters ; Nineteen pieces that require one Male and one Female Characters ; One piece that requires one Male aud two Peoiale Characters; Oiie piece that requires two Male and one Female Characters. No. 4. THE THESPIAN SPEAKER. Being the best Scenes from the best Plays. Every extract is preceded by valuable and very plain observ.itions, teaching the young Forensic Student how to Speak and Act in the most highly approved manner. CPIVTEIVTS.— ^iof of llic pieces in this hook require on? M.ale and mic Female Characters ; Three of the pieces requirefftrec MnleChaiactera ; T/iree uf the pieces lequirn two Male aud one Female Characteia ; Sepenof the pieces require (t™ Male Characters ; One of the pieces require one Male and one Female Characters : Two of the pieces require two Male and two Female Characters ; One ol the pieces require four Male and /our Female Characters ; Three of the pieces requir* three Male aud one Female Cliaracters. *^.* Single copies sent, on receipt of price, postage free. ' Address as per first page of this Catalogue, Ab. Cbmposer. 8S. Last Fare^vell Tucker. S6. Mf Heart is Thine Alone. .Glover. ST. Come Bacli to Erin Cl&rtbel. »fi. Morn on the Meadow. . .Wrighton. OO. .Sad Bro-cvn I..eaves Chantrey. 91. Fond Memory Glover. SS. I Heard a Spirit Sln^ Taylor. 94. Autnmn Twilight Glcver. OS. Roclied in the Cradle of the Deep Turker. 95. Origin of the Harp Muore. too. Straagers Yet Clarlbel. fOa. Sweet Land of Tyrol Theresa. «03. My Pretty Bird, Sing On. LlDdbland. f 04. Spring and Autnmn Tucker. f OC. Upon the Snoivy Mountain Tops. Moller. tOf. Ave Maria Ouono.l. <10. Believe Me if alk Endeariug Charms Moore. H4. Children's Voices , Claribel. US. Long, Long >Veary Day. . .Tucker. 1«6. Why was I Looking Out? Blumenthal. IIT. Angels Ever Bright and Fair. Tucker. l%a. Annie Laurie Tucker. tots. My Pretty Jane Bishop. ia4. Distant Land Heitslett. 1 SS. Dream of Love Roflwell. tS7. I Love and 1 am Beloved. . Ulchard. laS. Xeaia Lutz. 139. On 4he Mountains BenedK t. «30. Oh, Waly. 'VValy. XJp the BanU. Bluinendnl. 131. The Birds were Telling One Another Smart. 13%. Come Sit Thee Down Sinclair. 133. The Standard Bearer. .Lindpainter. 134. Shells of Ocean Cherry. 135. Isle of Beauty, Fare Thee Well. Bajley. 136. Bloom Again, Sweet Prison Flower Young. 13T. 138. 139. 140, 145. 14 G. 14-?. 160. 163. 1C4. 1«S. IGC 1«"J. les. lKi9. ItO. If4. i»«o. 1S3. ISC 198. 19"S'. 19S. SOO. Oompoaer, Ever of Thee Hall, As I'd Nothing Else to Do. Hatton. Orieve niot for Me WrlKhton. I Cannot Sing the Old Songs. Claribel. IVhy Da Summer lloses Fade? Baiker. I Cannot Mind my 'Wheel. Mother LInley. Araby's D lughter. Klallmark. Young Jenny Allen. O Fair Dove t O Fond Dove I Galty. Oh, Keep Me In Your Memory. Glover. Upon the Danube River. ..Tucker. Just Touch the Harp CJeotly, My Pretty Loui.se BUnipliln. ■^Vhen the Corn is YVavIng, Annie Blamphln. Love's Secret Tucker. '^Vhen my Ship Comes Home. Lee, Bird oa the Tree Nisb. Yeoman's YVedding Song, Poniatowskl, Linden -^Valtl, Aide, Michael Bray Phllp, Lover's Pen Poniatowskl. Eily's Reason Molloy. With the Stream Tours. Out in the Cold Bagnall. The AVishing Cap Wrlghton. The Island of Green. Arranged by Tucker. Meeting in Heaven Wrlghton. Jenny of the Mill. Leduc, Esmeralda Levey. Heavenly Colden Shore. Rosenthal. Don't You Bemenaber, Love ? Lawrenc*. Hark! the Drum Nlth. . Anita Ithe Chieftain's AVifeV. Bicluirds. OPERATIC SONGS. lO. Little Blue Butterfly Herve. ST. Loving Daughter's Heart. ,. .Balle, 89. Paradise of Love Balfe. 09. O Rare Malvoisie! Offer.bach. ft. Light of Other Days Balfe, T3. Rhotomago's Partner Fair. Offenbach. TT. Ah : YVhat a Fate t Offenbach. SO. Then You'll Remember Me.. Balfe. St. Turtle Doves Offenbach. S3. 'Tis Sad to Leave Our Father, land Balfe. 54. On Yonder Rock Reclining.,, Anber. 55. YValk Up Now, This is No Hmm< bug. S9. Song of the Tight Rope Dancer. Offenbach. 93. These Aching Teeth Offenbach. 9T. Painted so Fine — Eyes Divine. Offenbach. 99, Anvil Chorus Verdi. lOl. Fool, You may Say it tf You Please Offenbach. tit. ttse. Composer, . Ohs Fio^n^ers so Fair and Siveet. OBeiibach. . nilgnon Thomaa. , Pleused with. IMyself. OITenbucli. Heart Bowed Down Balfe. Youiij^ A^Bies» Beauteous Flo»»er A liber. 1 Dreamt I Diwelt in Marbl«^ Dalls. Balfe. Ber Gentle Voice Expressed, etc. Baire. No. Cbmpoeer. 119. Tlie Tempest of the Heart. .YerdL 130. 'Why Linger, Mourner niemory? Mellow. 121. List to the Gar Castanet Balfs. ISC The Ball Thomai. 148. Mf Own, IMy Gaidins Star. UacTarren. 143, Ahl So Pure Flotow. ISS. "Where shall I Take my Bride ? Berae. COMIC AND SERIO COMIC SONGS. 1. l"retty Polly, if you Lo-re Me. Coote. «. Fisherman's Daughter BagnHll. 4. I'll Tell "*'our "Wife Egerton. ■v. Up ia a Balloon Hunt. O. Captain .links Slaclagan. 11. Champagne Charlio Lea la. Thady O'Flyna Molloy. 13. Tassels on the Boots Turker. IS. Tommy Dodd Clirke. !■». That's the Stylo for Mo Young. 18. Pretty Little Flora Leyborne. 1». Bather the Mea Walker es. I 'iVish I was a Fish Hunt. e4. Put it ir>o%va to Me Gatty. »». Ub, "Wouldn't You Like to Know? Musgrave. 30. "Where Is my Nancy? Hunt. 33, Imiuenseikoif Lloyd. SS. Good-bye, John: or, Chiekabiddy. 40. Bean, of Saratoga "Vauce. 42. IVoC ^or Joseph Lloyd. 44. Calirornia Gold Bunt. 48. Susan, Susan, Pity my Confusion. Buruam. BO. "Walking in the Park Lee. BS. Bell Goes n-Riugiag for Sa-i-rah. Hunt. B3. Call Her Back and Kiss Her. Uii Be. Flying Trapeze Lee. B8. It's IVice to be a Father Hunt. GT 08. 9C. IBl. 1S3. ISG. IBT. 1S8. 1C2. ITl. l-S*. 1'5'3. IfC. 181. 183. 184. 18::. 180. ISO. 191. 19%. 193. . She Danced Like a Fairy. .Dudley. . I IVever Go East of Madison Square. . Lancashire Lass "Willlama. . Rov«'ing Honto in the Morning. EJgerton. If Eifer I Cease to Love. .Leybourne. His Heart -was True to Poll. Tucker. I'm a Timid, Nervous Man. Cherry. Rhein "Wine Sharley. . .Leybourne. Heathen Chinee Tucker, Housekeeper's "Woes Fechter. Doivn in a Coal Mine. . .Geogbegan, Dolly "Varden Lee, Little Coquette Lee. Good-bye. Charlie Bunt. Bom ! Bom ! Bon* ! Bunt. Modern Times Coote. The Hardware Line Banks. Jack's Present Byron. "When the Band Begins to Play. Hunt. Upon the Grand Parade. . .Davlei. Ada w^Uh the Golden Hair. G. "W. M. Awfully Clever Hunt. Perhaps She's on the Railway. McCarthy. Mother Says I Mustn't Huat. MOTTO SONGS. 34. "Way of the "World Ellery. 3C. It's All the Same to Sam.. .Hunt. 46. It's Better to Laugh than to Cry. Olifton. E4. On, Boys, On, the Course is Al«vays Clear Fetchet. CO. Act on the Square, Boys Lee. I'W. A Bit of ray Mind Bell. 179. An Old Man's Advice Tinney. 187. Up and be Doing Smith. 188. Ten Minutes Too Late Clirton. lOS. "Would "Vou be Surprised?. .Coote. 199. O'Ooanell Aboo Morlne. 149. Popular Airs for Little Fingers, No. 1 . Walking In the Park ; Beautiful BpIIs. 150. Popular Airs for Little Fingers, No. 2. Captain JInka ; Tapping at the Garden Gate. Id. Berger Family ** Bells Maxurka." "/7, H104 75 # V »' '7-' < v ♦^^ • ^ "* O .<^ o ° " ° -» , <*>, t"^ ^■jY/TyhS' ^ "V^ •< *<^^S^'^-' ^>'vv Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process '^.. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide ^^•n^. .<^^ Treatment Date: May 2009 ^ -^. \^^Z«^,* ^h PreservationTechnologies ^ ^ ..,. ^ ()^ .too. \ ,^' ^'^i/i\ "^U .y :\ /i) A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION » 5 • 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16065 (724)779-2111 W^i^ N. MANCHESTER, INDIANA >" ^'A%iA\ u ,^ yj