—Had she, as thou! Lucretia—durst—
But here the soul! superior by her faith,
Triumph'd—and for her country and her son,
Endured, in misery, all her cruel fate,
Accursed marriage!—deep laid Malice. O Mary!
Their vill'nous designs—were here accomplish'd,—
And stabb'd thy fame! But time shall bring to light
Their darkest deeds—and heal thy wounded name.
—Avaunt thou!—Murray, Morton, Bothwell,
And thou Elizabeth, great as a Queen,