Mary Stuart. Friedrich von Schiller

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         I am struck dumb by that tongue's eloquence,

         Which ever was so ominous to me.

         And how shall I, a weak, untutored woman,

         Cope with so subtle, learned an orator?

         Yes truly; were these lords as you describe them,

         I must be mute; my cause were lost indeed,

         Beyond all hope, if they pronounce me guilty.

         But, sir, these names, which you are pleased to praise,

         These very men, whose weight you think will crush me,

         I see performing in the history

         Of these dominions very different parts:

         I see this high nobility of England,

         This grave majestic senate of the realm,

         Like to an eastern monarch's vilest slaves,

         Flatter my uncle Henry's sultan fancies:

         I see this noble, reverend House of Lords,

         Venal alike with the corrupted Commons,

         Make statutes and annul them, ratify

         A marriage and dissolve it, as the voice

         Of power commands: to-day it disinherits,

         And brands the royal daughters of the realm

         With the vile name of bastards, and to-morrow

         Crowns them as queens, and leads them to the throne.

         I see them in four reigns, with pliant conscience,

         Four times abjure their faith; renounce the pope

         With Henry, yet retain the old belief;

         Reform themselves with Edward; hear the mass

         Again with Mary; with Elizabeth,

         Who governs now, reform themselves again.

         You say you are not versed in England's laws,

         You seem well read, methinks, in her disasters.

         And these men are my judges?

                        My lord treasurer,

         Towards you I will be just, be you but just

         To me. 'Tis said that you consult with zeal

         The good of England, and of England's queen;

         Are honest, watchful, indefatigable;

         I will believe it. Not your private ends,

         Your sovereign and your country's weal alone,

         Inspire your counsels and direct your deeds.

         Therefore, my noble lord, you should the more

         Distrust your heart; should see that you mistake not

         The welfare of the government for justice.

         I do not doubt, besides yourself, there are

         Among my judges many upright men:

         But they are Protestants, are eager all

         For England's quiet, and they sit in judgment

         On me, the Queen of Scotland, and the papist.

         It is an ancient saying, that the Scots

         And England to each other are unjust;

         And hence the rightful custom that a Scot

         Against an Englishman, or Englishman

         Against a Scot, cannot be heard in judgment.

         Necessity prescribed this cautious law;

         Deep policy oft lies in ancient customs:

         My lord, we must respect them. Nature cast

         Into the ocean these two fiery nations

         Upon this plank, and she divided it

         Unequally, and bade them fight for it.

         The narrow bed of Tweed alone divides

         These daring spirits; often hath the blood

         Of the contending parties dyed its waves.

         Threatening, and sword in hand, these thousand years,

         From both its banks they watch their rival's motions,

         Most vigilant and true confederates,

         With every enemy of the neighbor state.

         No foe oppresses England, but the Scot

         Becomes his firm ally; no civil war

         Inflames the towns of Scotland, but the English

         Add fuel to the fire: this raging hate

         Will never be extinguished till, at last,

         One parliament in concord shall unite them,

         One common sceptre rule throughout the isle.

         And from a Stuart, then, should England hope

         This happiness?

                  Oh! why should I deny it?

         Yes, I confess, I cherished the fond hope;

         I thought myself the happy instrument

         To join in freedom, 'neath the olive's shade,

         Two generous realms in lasting happiness!

         I little thought I should become the victim

         Of their old hate, their long-lived jealousy;

         And the sad flames of that unhappy strife,

         I hoped at last to smother, and forever:

         And, as my ancestor, great Richmond, joined

         The rival roses after bloody contest,

         To join in peace the Scotch and English crowns.

         An evil way you took to this good end,

         To set the realm on fire, and through the flames

         Of civil war to strive to mount the throne.

         I wished not that: – I wished it not, by Heaven!

         When did I strive at that? Where are your proofs?

         I came not hither to dispute; your cause

         Is no more subject to a war of words.

         The great majority of forty voices

         Hath found that you have contravened the law

         Last year enacted, and have now incurred

         Its penalty.

            [Producing the verdict.

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