Mary. Ah, ’tis too much.
Eliz. (With a smile of satisfaction.) Now thou showest thyself in thine own form. Till now thou hast worn a mask.
Mary. (With dignified pride.) They were mere human errors that overcame my youth. My grandeur dazzled me. I have nought to conceal, nor deny my faults; my pride has ever disdained the base artifices of vile intriguers. The worst I ever did is known, and I may boast myself far better than my reputation. But woe to thee, thou malignant hypocrite, if thou ever lettest fall the mantle beneath which thou concealest thy shameless amours! Thou, the daughter of Anne Boleyn, hast not inherited virtue! The causes that brought thy sinful mother to the block are known to all.
Tal. (Stepping between them.) Is this, O Mary, thine endurance? Is this thy humility?
Mary. Endurance? I have endured all that a mortal heart can bear. Hence, abject humility! Insulted patience, get ye from my heart! And thou, my long pent-up indignation, break thy bonds, and burst forth from thy lair! Oh, thou gavest to the angry serpent his deadly glance; arm my tongue with poisonous stings.
Tal. (To Elizabeth.) Forgive the angry transports which thou hast thyself provoked.
Lei. (Inducing Elizabeth to withdraw.) Hear not the ravings of a distracted woman. Leave this ill—
Mary. The throne of England is profaned by a base-born—the British nation is duped by a vile pretender! If right did prevail, thou wouldst be grovelling at my feet, for ’tis I who am thy sovereign. (Elizabeth retires. Leicester and Talbot follow.) She departs, burning with rage, and with bitterness of death at heart. Now happy I am! I have degraded her in Leicester’s presence. At last! at last! After long years of insult and contumely, I have at least enjoyed a season of triumph. (Sinks upon the floor.)
[CURTAIN.]
Schiller.