Maria Stuart

M aria tu rt Maria Stuart, described as Schiller’s most perfect play, is a fi nely balanced, inven� ve account of the last day of the cap� ve Queen of Scotland, caught up in a great contest for the throne of England a� er the death of Henry VIII and over the ques� on of England’s religious confession. Hope for and doubt about Mary’s deliverance grow in the fi rst two acts, given to the Sco� sh and the English queen respec� vely, reach crisis at the center of the play, where the two queens meet in a famous scene in a castle park, and die away in acts four and fi ve, as the ac� on advances to its inevitable end. The play is at once classical tragedy of great fi neness, costume drama of the highest order—a spectacle on the stage—and one of the great moments in the long tradi� on of classical rhetoric, as Elizabeth’s ministers argue for and against execu� on of a royal prisoner.

(He goes off in the same fashion. The Queen turns to Paulet, who is about to follow.) MARY. Yet another request, sir.
If you have something you would say to me-From you I suffer much; I honor your years.
The insolence of such a youngster I'll not Endure. Spare me his uncouth manners henceforth.
PAULET. What you would not endure endears him to me.
He's plainly not among the feeble fools 220 Whom women's lying tears can soften soon.
He's traveled. He returns from Paris and Reims, Bringing back home his loyal old-English heart.
On him your arts are lost entirely, my Lady. 16  The day comes round again, the fateful deed.
In memory of him I fast and atone. 18 KENNEDY. Lay this ghost, send this specter back to the grave. 240 You have atoned by years of pain and remorse.
The Church and Heaven have long forgiven you.

MARY. Guilt long forgiven, bleeding afresh, rises
Again, young ever, out of its shallow grave. Could he forget his more than brilliant lot 260 Was the creation of your love and great heart?
Full well he forgot, offended delicacy By low suspicion and crude practices.
Thus he made himself loathsome in your eyes.
The magic that had dazzled you went dark; Enraged, you rose and fled his shameful embraces, And laid him open to the general contempt.
And he? Did he try to win back your favor?
Or ask forgiveness? Throw himself at your feet, Promise to mend his ways? Defiance he offered. 270 This man who was your creature wanted to play Your king. And had the singer Rizzio, your favorite, Run through before your eyes. 19 And you, the Queen, Avenged with blood a deed so bloodily done.
MARY. And bloodily will it seek revenge on me, too.
Comforting me so, you make me guilty of it.
KENNEDY. You were not yourself when you let it happen.
Madness of love, blind love, had seized you and put you Under the yoke of that seducer, that Bothwell. MARY. The King of Spain will not declare war?

MORTIMER. She
Does not fear a whole world at war as long As she can count on peace at home-with her people.
MARY. She'd offer such a spectacle to Britons?
MORTIMER. Britons, my Lady, have seen lately more Than one fair woman leave the throne for the scaffold.
Elizabeth's own mother went that way And Catherine Howard and young Lady Jane Grey. 26 MARY (after a pause). Noble concern for me deceives you, Mortimer.
I fear no scaffold. Other means, more quiet, 460 Can assure England's Queen peace from my claims.
A murderer is hired before a headsman's found.
That's what I fear. I never set a wine glass If France desires alliance with me in earnest, It must take part in every concern of mine. She flatters youths with hope, to certain destruction.
The lure is to free her, to replace you their purpose.
Lorraine believes you a usurper, crowned by chance.
They led the foolish Mary to call herself queen.
There'll be no peace with her, none with her House! Or you must strike the blow or you must receive it. The world entire unites in league against her, And you yourself have never seen her face.
Nothing in your heart speaks for this stranger.
I do not speak here in defense of her guilt.
They say she had her husband murdered. Proven Is that she wed the murderer-a grave crime! 950 These things took place in dark times-civil war.

Beset by hostile vassals, in her weakness
She threw herself into a bold man's strong arms.
Who knows what artful force had mastered her?
For woman is but weak and easily broken.
ELIZABETH. Woman is not weak. There are strong souls among us.
I'll not hear weakness spoken of in my presence.
TALBOT. Ill fortune served you as a hard school. You saw No far-away throne, but a grave at your feet. MORTIMER. An act that calls for courage.
LEICESTER. The shape of things has changed in the meanwhile, sir.
Ambition made me cold to youth and beauty.
I hoped yet to possess the Queen of England.
MORTIMER. And it is known to all that she preferred you.
LEICESTER. It seemed so. But after ten lost years of an LEICESTER. Norfolk's fortune was not to lead a bride home.
MORTIMER. He proved that he was worthy of doing so.
LEICESTER. If we are lost in this, she is lost, too.
MORTIMER. And if we shy back, she will not be saved.
LEICESTER. You will spoil all that's just now well underway.
MORTIMER. A way, no doubt, that you've opened before us?
What have you ever done to help or to save her?
Were I rascal enough to murder her, as The

MARY (with rising emotion).
Think of the flux of all things that are human! Fear the unyielding gods that punish pride! It's they who have thrown me down at your feet. 1540 Honor yourself in me before these nobles, Honor the blood of Henry Tudor's house, The blood that flows through my veins as through yours.
Do not stand like a rock against the sea, Against a castaway lost in a storm.
Extend your hand, touch my heart, let me touch yours With words, with tears on which my life depends.
Your cold stare freezes my heart, words die in my throat.

ELIZABETH (cold and stern).
What have you to say to me, Lady Stuart? I shall forget the queen, so deeply offended, 1550 To meet the duty of a sister to you.
You have the comfort of the sight of me.
I risk reproach for bounty such as this, for Act Three He meant to take the short way to martyrdom.
Told only the priest who confessed and blessed us.

MORTIMER (after a silence, to himself).
Grim fate pursues you. Now, yes, now you must die.
Your very angel has prepared your fall. When he makes chase after crimes of high treason.
It's a fine season for you now, my Lord.
A truly monstrous misdeed has occurred and Its authors still lie hidden deep in darkness.
A court of inquest will now be convened And words and glances carefully weighed up.
Why, thoughts themselves will be called into court. MELVIL. For Heaven the wish is as good as the deed.
Tyranny binds the hands but not the heart.
MARY. Melvil, the heart alone is not enough.
Faith needs a token. God thus became flesh, Invisible gifts in the visible.
The Universal Church, the Catholic Church, Builds a great ladder heavenward, for faith Strengthens faith where ten thousands kneel to pray, 2340 Coals become flame and the winged spirit takes flight.
Happy who gather in the House of the Lord!
The bishop in white vestments stands at the altar, Where candles flicker, incense rises, bells sound.
He takes the chalice, blesses it, proclaims The wonder of the bread and the wine, and And what of my resolve to stifle my heart?
To see her head fall with a steady gaze?
Must she, in death, catch me again in love's toils?
Wretch! You have no more claim to womanish feelings! There'll be no love on your path anymore! Armor your breast with steel, your brow be a rock! Would you not lose the prize of this shameful deed, 2510 You must hold to it boldly and complete it.
Silence, soft feelings! Turn to stone, you eyes! I shall see her fall, I will be witness.
(He strides toward the door Mary went out, then stops.)