KENNEDY.
So downcast, so depressed, my dearest lady!
You, who before so gay, so full of hope,
Were used to comfort me in my distress;
More gracious were the task to check your mirth
Than chide your heavy sadness.
MARY.
Well I know him—
It is the bleeding Darnley's royal shade,
Rising in anger from his darksome grave
And never will he make his peace with me
Until the measures of my woes be full.
KENNEDY.
What thoughts are these—
MARY.
Thou may'st forget it, Hannah;
But I've a faithful memory—'tis this day
Another wretched anniversary
Of that regretted, that unhappy deed—
Which I must celebrate with fast and penance.
KENNEDY.
Dismiss at length in peace this evil spirit.
The penitence of many a heavy year,
Of many a suffering, has atoned the deed;
The church, which holds the key of absolution,
Pardons the crime, and heaven itself's appeased.
MARY.
This long-atoned crime arises fresh
And bleeding from its lightly-covered grave;
My husband's restless spirit seeks revenge;
No sacred bell can exorcise, no host
In priestly hands dismiss it to his tomb.
KENNEDY.
You did not murder him; 'twas done by others.
MARY.
But it was known to me; I suffered it,
And lured him with my smiles to death's embrace.
KENNEDY.
Your youth extenuates your guilt. You were
Of tender years.
MARY.
So tender, yet I drew
This heavy guilt upon my youthful head.