Lieut. 'Tis the pleasure of the queen that you part lodgings

Till your arraignment, which must be to-morrow. Jane. Good Master Lieutenant, let us pray together.

Lieut. Pardon me, madam, I may not; they that owe1 you, sway me.

Guild. Entreat not, Jane: though he our bodies. part,

Our souls shall meet: farewell, my love!

Jane. My Dudley, my own heart!

[Exeunt.

A PRAISE OF PRINCESS MARY

JOHN HEYWOOD

"BLOODY MARY" has not left an amiable memory, but she had at least one faithful friend. John Heywood, singer, jester, playwright, and actor, was chief entertainer to Henry VIII.'s court, and, though a loyal Romanist, was protected by the young King Edward. His attachment to Mary was genuine. When the fanatic queen lay on her death-bed, he was called to try and cheer her with his sprightly talk and stories. The following song he wrote for her when she was a princess of eighteen, in deep disgrace as daughter of the divorced Katharine and with no other voice than this poor singer's raised in her honor.

If all the world were sought full far,
Who could find such a wight?
Her beauty twinkleth like a star
Within the frosty night.

own.

Her colour comes and goes
With such a goodly grace,
More ruddy than the rose,
Within her lively face.

The mirth that she doth use

Is mixt with shamefastness.

All vices she eschews

And hateth idleness.

She doth as far exceed
These women nowadays,
As doth the flower the weed,
And more, a thousand ways.

This praise I shall her give,
When Death doth what he can,

Her honest name shall live

Within the mouth of man.

QUEEN MARY

LORD TENNYSON

her

THE girlhood of Mary had been an unhappy one. Her Spanish blood and her devotion to the Roman Catholic religion drew upon the cordial dislike of Henry VIII. She was guarded as though she were plotting treason, and her title to the throne was denied. The people loved her because she was ill-treated and were determined that justice should be done her. By blind pursuit of her own purposes Mary forfeited their confidence. She was bent on restoring the Pope's authority in England and on taking for a husband Philip II., King of Spain. The marriage was heartily disliked by the people and gave origin to numerous plots to place the Princess Elizabeth on the throne. The rigorous persecution of Protestants rendered the queen hateful to her subjects and had the effect of furthering the Reformation.

ACT III

SCENE I. A Street in London.

(The King and Queen pass, attended by Peers of the Realm, Officers of State, etc. Cannon shot off.)

Crowd. Philip and Mary, Philip and Mary! Long live the King and Queen, Philip and Mary! Stafford. They smile as if content with one another. Bagenhall. A smile abroad is oft a scowl at home.

*

(Enter Gardiner turning back from the procession.) Gardiner. Knave, wilt thou wear thy cap before the Queen?

Man. My Lord, I stand so squeezed among the crowd

I cannot lift my hands unto my head.

Gardiner. Knock off his cap there, some of you about him!

See there be others that can use their hands.

Thou art one of Wyatt's men?

Man.

Gardiner. Thy name, thou knave?

Man.

No, my Lord, no.

I am nobody, my Lord.

Gardiner (shouting). God's passion! knave, thy name?

Gardiner. Ay, rascal, if I leave thee ears to hear. Find out his name and bring it to me. (To Attendant.) Ay, my Lord.

Attendant.

Gardiner. Knave, thou shalt lose thine ears and

find thy tongue,

And shalt be thankful if I leave thee that.

Rascal! this land is like a hill of fire,

One crater opens when another shuts.
But so I get the laws against the heretic,
Spite of Lord Paget and Lord William Howard,
And others of our Parliament, revived,

I will show fire on my side - stake and fire

Sharp work and short.

Follow their Majesties..

Bagenhall.

The knaves are easily cow'd.

[Exit. The crowd following. As proud as Becket.

Stafford. You would not have him murder'd as Becket was?

Bagenhall. No-murder fathers murder: but I say There is no man - there was one woman with us It was a sin to love her married, dead

I cannot choose but love her.

Stafford.

Lady Jane?

Crowd (going off). God save their Graces!

Stafford.

Did you see her die?

Bagenhall. No, no; her innocent blood had blinded

me.

You call me too black-blooded-true enough

Her dark dead blood is in my heart with mine.

If ever I cry out against the Pope

Her dark dead blood that ever moves with mine
Will stir the living tongue and make the cry.

Stafford. Yet doubtless you can tell me how she died?

Bagenhall. Seventeen and knew eight languages - in music

Peerless her needle perfect, and her learning
Beyond the churchmen: yet so meek, so modest,
So wife-like humble to the trivial boy

Mismatch'd with her for policy! I have heard
She would not take a last farewell of him,
She fear'd it might unman him for his end.
She could not be unmann'd no, nor outwoman'd
Seventeen a rose of grace!

Girl never breathed to rival such a rose:

Rose never blew that equall'd such a bud.
Stafford. Pray you go on.

Bagenhall.

She came upon the scaffold

And said she was condemn'd to die for treason:

She had but follow'd the device of those

Her nearest kin: she thought they knew the laws. But for herself, she knew but little law,

And nothing of the titles to the crown;

She had no desire for that, and wrung her hands,
And trusted God would save her thro' the blood
Of Jesus Christ alone.

Stafford.

Pray you go on.

Bagenhall. Then knelt and said the Miserere Mei But all in English, mark you; rose again, And, when the headsman prayed to be forgiven, Said, "You will give me my true crown at last. But do it quickly;" then all wept but she,