BAGENHALL. Then knelt and said the Misere Mei—
But all in English, mark you; rose again,
And, when the headsman pray’d to be forgiven,
Said, ’You will give me my true crown at last,
But do it quickly;’ then all wept but she,
Who changed not colour when she saw the block,
But ask’d him, childlike: ’Will you
take it off
Before I lay me down?’ ‘No, madam,’
he said,
Gasping; and when her innocent eyes were bound,
She, with her poor blind hands feeling—’where
is it?
Where is it?’—You must fancy that
which follow’d,
If you have heart to do it!
CROWD (in the distance).
God
save their Graces!
STAFFORD. 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!
BAGENHALL. The ‘Thou shall do no murder,’
which God’s hand
Wrote on her conscience, Mary rubb’d out pale—
She could not make it white—and over that,
Traced in the blackest text of Hell—’Thou
shall!’
And sign’d it—Mary!
STAFFORD. 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?
BAGENHALL. And why should I be bolder than the
rest,
Or honester than all?
STAFFORD. But, sir, if I—
And oversea they say this state of yours
Hath no more mortice than a tower of cards;
And that a puff 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 splendour, 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 would fight along with us.
BAGENHALL. No; you would fling your lives into
the gulf.
STAFFORD. 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 then?
BAGENHALL. I think I should fight then.
STAFFORD. 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.
BAGENHALL. Upon the scaffold.
[Exeunt.
MARY. Enter PHILIP and CARDINAL POLE.
POLE. Ave Maria, gratia plena, Benedicta tu in
mulieribus.
MARY. Loyal and royal cousin, humblest thanks.
Had you a pleasant voyage up the river?
