Lieut. 'Tis the pleasure of the queen that you part lodgings Till your arraignment, which must be to-morrow. Jane. Good Master Lieutenant, let us pray together. Lieut. Pardon me, madam, I may not; they that owe1 you, sway me. Guild. Entreat not, Jane: though he our bodies. part, Our souls shall meet: farewell, my love! Jane. My Dudley, my own heart! [Exeunt. A PRAISE OF PRINCESS MARY JOHN HEYWOOD "BLOODY MARY" has not left an amiable memory, but she had at least one faithful friend. John Heywood, singer, jester, playwright, and actor, was chief entertainer to Henry VIII.'s court, and, though a loyal Romanist, was protected by the young King Edward. His attachment to Mary was genuine. When the fanatic queen lay on her death-bed, he was called to try and cheer her with his sprightly talk and stories. The following song he wrote for her when she was a princess of eighteen, in deep disgrace as daughter of the divorced Katharine and with no other voice than this poor singer's raised in her honor. If all the world were sought full far, own. Her colour comes and goes The mirth that she doth use Is mixt with shamefastness. All vices she eschews And hateth idleness. She doth as far exceed This praise I shall her give, Her honest name shall live Within the mouth of man. QUEEN MARY LORD TENNYSON her THE girlhood of Mary had been an unhappy one. Her Spanish blood and her devotion to the Roman Catholic religion drew upon the cordial dislike of Henry VIII. She was guarded as though she were plotting treason, and her title to the throne was denied. The people loved her because she was ill-treated and were determined that justice should be done her. By blind pursuit of her own purposes Mary forfeited their confidence. She was bent on restoring the Pope's authority in England and on taking for a husband Philip II., King of Spain. The marriage was heartily disliked by the people and gave origin to numerous plots to place the Princess Elizabeth on the throne. The rigorous persecution of Protestants rendered the queen hateful to her subjects and had the effect of furthering the Reformation. ACT III SCENE I. A Street in London. (The King and Queen pass, attended by Peers of the Realm, Officers of State, etc. Cannon shot off.) Crowd. Philip and Mary, Philip and Mary! Long live the King and Queen, Philip and Mary! Stafford. They smile as if content with one another. Bagenhall. A smile abroad is oft a scowl at home. * (Enter Gardiner turning back from the procession.) Gardiner. Knave, wilt thou wear thy cap before the Queen? Man. My Lord, I stand so squeezed among the crowd I cannot lift my hands unto my head. Gardiner. Knock off his cap there, some of you about him! See there be others that can use their hands. Thou art one of Wyatt's men? Man. Gardiner. Thy name, thou knave? Man. No, my Lord, no. I am nobody, my Lord. Gardiner (shouting). God's passion! knave, thy name? Gardiner. Ay, rascal, if I leave thee ears to hear. Find out his name and bring it to me. (To Attendant.) Ay, my Lord. Attendant. Gardiner. Knave, thou shalt lose thine ears and find thy tongue, And shalt be thankful if I leave thee that. Rascal! this land is like a hill of fire, One crater opens when another shuts. I will show fire on my side - stake and fire Sharp work and short. Follow their Majesties.. Bagenhall. The knaves are easily cow'd. [Exit. The crowd following. As proud as Becket. Stafford. You would not have him murder'd as Becket was? Bagenhall. No-murder fathers murder: but I say There is no man - there was one woman with us It was a sin to love her married, dead I cannot choose but love her. Stafford. Lady Jane? Crowd (going off). God save their Graces! Stafford. Did you see her die? Bagenhall. No, no; her innocent blood had blinded me. You call me too black-blooded-true enough Her 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 Stafford. Yet doubtless you can tell me how she died? Bagenhall. Seventeen and knew eight languages - in music Peerless her needle perfect, and her learning Mismatch'd with her for policy! I have heard Girl never breathed to rival such a rose: Rose never blew that equall'd such a bud. Bagenhall. She came upon the scaffold And said she was condemn'd to die for treason: She had but follow'd the device of those Her nearest kin: she thought they knew the laws. But for herself, she knew but little law, And nothing of the titles to the crown; She had no desire for that, and wrung her hands, Stafford. Pray you go on. Bagenhall. Then knelt and said the Miserere Mei But all in English, mark you; rose again, And, when the headsman prayed to be forgiven, Said, "You will give me my true crown at last. But do it quickly;" then all wept but she, |