Queen Mary; and, HaroldTennyson, Alfred Tennyson, Baron
History
Queen Mary; and, Harold
Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, Baron
Drama; Mary I, Queen of England, 1516-1558 -- Drama
BRETT. Ev'n so; he was my neighbour once in Kent.
He's poor enough, has drunk and gambled out
All that he had, and gentleman he was.
We have been glad together; let him live.
WYATT. He has gambled for his life, and lost, he hangs.
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!
Women and children!
_Enter a Crowd of_ WOMEN _and_ CHILDREN.
FIRST WOMAN. O Sir Thomas, Sir Thomas, pray you go away, Sir Thomas,
or you'll make the White Tower a black 'un for us this blessed 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 further 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 further off.
CROWD. Thanks, Sir Thomas, we be beholden to you, 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_.
SCENE IV.--ROOM IN THE GATEHOUSE OF WESTMINSTER PALACE.
MARY, ALICE, GARDINER, RENARD, LADIES.
GARDINER. Their cry is, Philip never shall be king.
MARY. Lord Pembroke in command of all our force
Will front their cry and shatter them into dust.
ALICE. Was not Lord Pembroke with Northumberland?
O madam, if this Pembroke should be false?
MARY. 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.
MESSENGER. Wyatt, your Grace, hath broken thro' the guards
And gone to Ludgate.
GARDINER. Madam, I much fear
That all is lost; but we can save your Grace.
The river still is free. I do beseech you,
There yet is time, take boat and pass to Windsor.
MARY. I pass to Windsor and I lose my crown.
GARDINER. Pass, then, I pray your Highness, to the Tower.
MARY. I shall but be their prisoner in the Tower.
CRIES _without_. The traitor! treason! Pembroke!
LADIES. Treason! treason!
MARY. Peace.
False to Northumberland, is he false to me?
Bear witness, Renard, that I live and die
The true and faithful bride of Philip--A sound
Of feet and voices thickening hither--blows--
Hark, there is battle at the palace gates,
And I will out upon the gallery.
LADIES. No, no, your Grace; see there the arrows flying.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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