The Queen starts as if electrified—her eye flashing—every feature twitching with disappointment and rage at the unlooked for answer—clenching her hands, and stamping with her feet, she exclaims.
Queen. Blood of my kingly father! What damned wench in the corrupt court. Hirelings and traitors, in his pay, or some one’s else, has got up that foul scandal? And thy old head to prompt it at such a time! Surrounded with treason—threatened with invasion—without Counsel on which I can rely—drifting along on a tempestuous sea, with no other pilot than my own isolated wisdom—my tortured mind sought in glowing visions of the future for comfort, and repose! (she walks about excited, then comes in front of her companion, who trembles for the consequence). Dost thou thus misthink me, woman?—that I will act so unlike myself—so far below majesty—I, that have refused the greatest of princes—as to lower my dignity (then raising herself do a loftier tone) and the crown which my heroic people put on my head because they deemed me worthy to wear it, and to defend their glory and their rights, as to share it with a thing like Leicester? And that thou—thou above all—who hast known me.
Mrs. Ashley (on her knees, in an imploring attitude) My beloved mistress I—I—I only meant it—
Queen (in great agitation). Away! Away—Ashley! Leave me to myself to calm this raging madness.
Mrs. Ashley (clinging to her robe). My beloved mistress! do not drive me from you in anger—It would break my heart (sobbing).
Queen (soothingly raises and kisses her). There then! My faithful Ashley! There! (kissing her again) There now! Leave me for a little and come again. (Exit Mrs. Ashley sobbing. Looking after Mrs. Ashley.) My true, devoted, faithful friend—tried in affliction—that has known my inmost nature, as I thought—and yet, to misthink me thus! Well might the venal creatures of a corrupt court—gnawed by the constant worms.—Envy, malice, and all uncharitableness! (She bursts into tears—sobs convulsively.—Then recovering her pride and dignity, comes forward). No! marriage is not for me. The lily or the gentle violet may take root and bloom in fertile valley and peaceful shade. (fiercely) The oak shall brave the storm! It is the will of God! (She pauses—then firmly continues.) I will fulfil my destiny! Nor throne, nor duty shall be e’er divided. My duty is my country’s—entire—exclusive—none to spare for husband. I consecrate myself to England! No stain shall sully the lustre of the offering. Let foes calumniate, and vipers spit their venom. Providence, that foils the assassin’s knife, will yet unmask the falsehoods! (Walking with proud step and uplifted arm she exclaims with exultation) Time, the revealer, will avenge me! Yes, History! History! thou wilt be just at last! (She pauses in great emotion and excitement.) A lonely orphan—in cruelty and oppression—your generous spirit rose my bulwark.—The roar of an indignant people thundered their resolve that I should be their Queen! That earthquake shook the land! Murder, with axe and poison, slunk back in terror. Perish my name; when I forget my country!—England!—Proud!—Generous!—Brave!—Land of hospitality and freedom!—Thy glory!—Thy happiness be mine!—Thee only will I wed!—Thee only!—Thee only! (exit)
Scene changes.
Scene III.—CENTRE OF THE PACIFIC.
The deck of the “Golden Hind” dashing along under full sail. Sailors carelessly lounging. Night. The full moon.
Thomas Moon, Hixom, Noble.