Mary Stuart. Фридрих Шиллер

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       MARY (interrupting him sharply).

       Talk to me not of deans. I ask the aid

       Of one of my own church—a Catholic priest.

       PAULET.

       [That is against the published laws of England.

       MARY.

       The laws of England are no rule for me.

       I am not England's subject; I have ne'er

       Consented to its laws, and will not bow

       Before their cruel and despotic sway.

       If 'tis your will, to the unheard-of rigor

       Which I have borne, to add this new oppression,

       I must submit to what your power ordains;

       Yet will I raise my voice in loud complaints.]

       I also wish a public notary,

       And secretaries, to prepare my will—

       My sorrows and my prison's wretchedness

       Prey on my life—my days, I fear, are numbered—

       I feel that I am near the gates of death.

       PAULET.

       These serious contemplations well become you.

       MARY.

       And know I then that some too ready hand

       May not abridge this tedious work of sorrow?

       I would indite my will and make disposal

       Of what belongs to me.

       PAULET.

       This liberty

       May be allowed to you, for England's queen

       Will not enrich herself by plundering you.

       MARY.

       I have been parted from my faithful women,

       And from my servants; tell me, where are they?

       What is their fate? I can indeed dispense

       At present with their service, but my heart

       Will feel rejoiced to know these faithful ones

       Are not exposed to suffering and to want!

       PAULET.

       Your servants have been cared for; [and again

       You shall behold whate'er is taken from you

       And all shall be restored in proper season.]

       [Going.

       MARY.

       And will you leave my presence thus again,

       And not relieve my fearful, anxious heart

       From the fell torments of uncertainty?

       Thanks to the vigilance of your hateful spies,

       I am divided from the world; no voice

       Can reach me through these prison-walls; my fate

       Lies in the hands of those who wish my ruin.

       A month of dread suspense is passed already

       Since when the forty high commissioners

       Surprised me in this castle, and erected,

       With most unseemly haste, their dread tribunal;

       They forced me, stunned, amazed, and unprepared,

       Without an advocate, from memory,

       Before their unexampled court, to answer

       Their weighty charges, artfully arranged.

       They came like ghosts—like ghosts they disappeared,

       And since that day all mouths are closed to me.

       In vain I seek to construe from your looks

       Which hath prevailed—my cause's innocence

       And my friends' zeal—or my foes' cursed counsel.

       Oh, break this silence! let me know the worst;

       What have I still to fear, and what to hope.

       PAULET.

       Close your accounts with heaven.

       MARY.

       From heaven I hope

       For mercy, sir; and from my earthly judges

       I hope, and still expect, the strictest justice.

       PAULET.

       Justice, depend upon it, will be done you.

       MARY.

       Is the suit ended, sir?

       PAULET.

       I cannot tell.

       MARY.

       Am I condemned?

       PAULET.

       I cannot answer, lady.

       MARY.

       [Sir, a good work fears not the light of day.

       PAULET.

       The day will shine upon it, doubt it not.]

       MARY.

       Despatch is here the fashion. Is it meant

       The murderer shall surprise me, like the judges?

       PAULET.

       Still entertain that thought and he will find you

       Better prepared to meet your fate than they did.

       MARY (after a pause).

       Sir, nothing can surprise me which a court

       Inspired by Burleigh's hate and Hatton's zeal,

       Howe'er unjust, may venture to pronounce:

       But I have yet to learn how far the queen

       Will dare in execution of the sentence.

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