mary stuart-第2章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



thee　no　more。〃



Indeed；　the　happiest　years　of　her　life　had　just　passed　away　in　this

France　that　she　so　much　regretted。　　Born　amid　the　first　religious

troubles；　near　the　bedside　of　her　dying　father；　the　cradle　mourning

was　to　stretch　for　her　to　the　grave；　and　her　stay　in　France　had　been

a　ray　of　sunshine　in　her　night。　　Slandered　from　her　birth；　the　report

was　so　generally　spread　abroad　that　she　was　malformed；　and　that　she

could　not　live　to　grow　up；　that　one　day　her　mother；　Mary　of　Guise；

tired　of　these　false　rumours；　undressed　her　and　showed　her　naked　to

the　English　ambassador；　who　had　come；　on　the　part　of　Henry　VIII；　to

ask　her　in　marriage　for　the　Prince　of　Wales；　himself　only　five　years

old。　　Crowned　at　nine　months　by　Cardinal　Beaton；　archbishop　of　St。

Andrews；　she　was　immediately　hidden　by　her　mother；　who　was　afraid　of

treacherous　dealing　in　the　King　of　England；　in　Stirling　Castle。　　Two

years　later；　not　finding　even　this　fortress　safe　enough；　she　removed

her　to　an　island　in　the　middle　of　the　Lake　of　Menteith；　where　a

priory；　the　only　building　in　the　place；　provided　an　asylum　for　the

royal　child　and　for　four　young　girls　born　in　the　same　year　as

herself；　having　like　her　the　sweet　name　which　is　an　anagram　of　the

word　〃aimer；〃　and　who；　quitting　her　neither　in　her　good　nor　in　her

evil　fortune；　were　called　the　〃Queen's　Marys〃。　　They　were　Mary

Livingston；　Mary　Fleming；　Mary　Seyton；　and　Mary　Beaton。　　Mary　stayed

in　this　priory　till　Parliament；　having　approved　her　marriage　with　the

French　dauphin；　son　of　Henry　II；　she　was　taken　to　Dumbarton　Castle；

to　await　the　moment　of　departure。　　There　she　was　entrusted　to　M。　de

Breze；　sent　by　Henry　II　to…fetch　her。　　Having　set　out　in　the　French

galleys　anchored　at　the　mouth　of　the　Clyde；　Mary；　after　having　been

hotly　pursued　by　the　English　fleet；　entered　Brest　harbour；　15th

August；　1548；　one　year　after　the　death　of　Francis！　　Besides　the

queen's　four　Marys；　the　vessels　also　brought　to　France　three　of　her

natural　brothers；　among　whom　was　the　Prior　of　St。　Andrews；　James

Stuart；　who　was　later　to　abjure　the　Catholic　faith；　and　with　the

title　of　Regent；　and　under　the　name　of　the　Earl　of　Murray；　to　become

so　fatal　to　poor　Mary。　　From　Brest；　Mary　went　to　St。　　Germain…en…

Laye；　where　Henry　II；　who　had　just　ascended　the　throne；　overwhelmed

her　with　caresses；　and　then　sent　her　to　a　convent　where　the　heiresses

of　the　noblest　French　houses　were　brought　up。　　There　Mary's　happy

qualities　developed。　　Born　with　a　woman's　heart　and　a　man's　head；

Mary　not　only　acquired　all　the　accomplishments　which　constituted　the

education　of　a　future　queen；　but　also　that　real　knowledge　which　is

the　object　of　the　truly　learned。



Thus；　at　fourteen；　in　the　Louvre；　before　Henry　II；　Catherine　de

Medici；　and　the　whole　court；　she　delivered　a　discourse　in　Latin　of

her　own　composition；　in　which　she　maintained　that　it　becomes　women　to

cultivate　letters；　and　that　it　is　unjust　and　tyrannical　to　deprive

flowery　of　their　perfumes；　by　banishing　young　girls　from　all　but

domestic　cares。　　One　can　imagine　in　what　manner　a　future　queen；

sustaining　such　a　thesis；　was　likely　to　be　welcomed　in　the　most

lettered　and　pedantic　court　in　Europe。　　Between　the　literature　of

Rabelais　and　Marot　verging　on　their　decline；　and　that　of　Ronsard　and

Montaigne　reaching　their　zenith；　Mary　became　a　queen　of　poetry；　only

too　happy　never　to　have　to　wear　another　crown　than　that　which

Ronsard；　Dubellay；　Maison…Fleur；　arid　Brantome　placed　daily　on　her

head。　　But　she　was　predestined。　　In　the　midst　of　those　fetes　which　a

waning　chivalry　was　trying　to　revive　came　the　fatal　joust　of

Tournelles：　Henry　II；　struck　by　a　splinter　of　a　lance　for　want　of　a

visor；　slept　before　his　time　with　his　ancestors；　and　Mary　Stuart

ascended　the　throne　of　France；　where；　from　mourning　for　Henry；　she

passed　to　that　for　her　mother；　and　from　mourning　for　her　mother　to

that　for　her　husband。　　Mary　felt　this　last　loss　both　as　woman　and　as

poet；　her　heart　burst　forth　into　bitter　tears　and　plaintive

harmonies。　　Here　are　some　lines　that　she　composed　at　this　time：



〃Into　my　song　of　woe；

Sung　to　a　low　sad　air；

My　cruel　grief　I　throw；

For　loss　beyond　compare；

In　bitter　sighs　and　tears

Go　by　my　fairest　years。



Was　ever　grief　like　mine

Imposed　by　destiny？

Did　ever　lady　pine；

In　high　estate；　like　me；

Of　whom　both　heart　and　eye

Within　the　coffin　lie？



Who；　in　the　tender　spring

And　blossom　of　my　youth；

Taste　all　the　sorrowing

Of　life's　extremest　ruth；

And　take　delight　in　nought

Save　in　regretful　thought。



All　that　was　sweet　and　gay

Is　now　a　pain　to　see；

The　sunniness　of　day

Is　black　as　night　to　me；

All　that　was　my　delight

Is　hidden　from　my　sight。



My　heart　and　eye；　indeed；

One　face；　one　image　know；

The　which　this　morrnful　weed

On　my　sad　face　doth　show；

Dyed　with　the　violet's　tone

That　is　the　lover's　own。



Tormented　by　my　ill；

I　go　from　place　to　place；

But　wander　as　I　will

My　woes　can　nought　efface；

My　most　of　bad　and　good

I　find　in　solitude。



But　wheresoe'er　I　stay；

In　meadow　or　in　copse；

Whether　at　break　of　day

Or　when　the　twilight　drops；

My　heart　goes　sighing　on；

Desiring　one　that's　gone。



If　sometimes　to　the　skies

My　weary　gaze　I　lift；

His　gently　shining　eyes

Look　from　the　cloudy　drift；

Or　stooping　o'er　the　wave

I　see　him　in　the　grave。



Or　when　my　bed　I　seek；

And…sleep　begins　to　steal；

Again　I　hear　him　speak；

Again　his　touch　I　feel；

In　work　or　leisure；　he

Is　ever　near　to　me。



No　other　thing　I　see；

However　fair　displayed；

By　which　my　heart　will　be

A　tributary　made；

Not　having　the　perfection

Of　that；　my　lost　affection。



Here　make　an　end；　my　verse；

Of　this　thy　sad　lament；

Whose　burden　shall　rehearse

Pure　love　of　true　intent；

Which　separation's　stress

Will　never　render　less。〃





〃It　was　then；〃　says　Brantorne；　〃that　it　was　delightful　to　see　her；

for　the　whiteness　of　her　countenance　and　of　her　veil　contended

together；　but　finally　the　artificial　white　yielded；　and　the　snow…like

pallor　of　her　face　vanquished　the　other。　　For　it　was　thus；〃　he　adds；

〃that　from　the　moment　she　became　a　widow；　I　always　saw　her　with　her

pale　hue；　as　long　as　I　had　the　honour　of　seeing　her　in　France；　and

Scotland；　where　she　had　to　go　in　eighteen　months'　time；　to　her　very

great　regret；　after　her　widowhood；　to　pacify　her　kingdom；　greatly

divided　by　religious　troubles。　　Alas！　she　had　neither　the　wish　nor

the　will　for　it；　and　I　have　often　heard　her　say　so；　with　a　fear　of

this　journey　like　death；　for　she　preferred　a　hundred　times　to　dwell

in　France　as　a　dowager　queen；　and　to　content　herself　with　Touraine

and　Poitou　for　her　jointure；　than　to　go　and　reign　over　there　in　her

wild　country；　but　her　uncles；　at　least　some　of　them；　not　all；　advised

her；　and　even　urged　her　to　it；　and　deeply　repented　their　error。〃



Mary　was　obedient；　as　we　have　seen；　and　she　began　her　journey　under

such　auspices　that　when　she　lost　sight　of　land　she　was　like　to　die。

Then　it　was　that　the　poetry　of　her　soul　found　expression　in　these

famous　lines：



〃Farewell；　delightful　land　of　France；

　　　　　My　motherland；

　　　　　The　best　beloved！

Foster…nurse　of　my　young　years！

Farewell；　France；　and　farewell　my　happy　days！

The　ship　that　separates　our　loves

Has　borne　away　but　half　of　me；

One　part　is　left　thee　and　is　throe；

And　I　confide　it　to　thy　tenderness；

That　thou　may'st　hold　in　mind　the　other　part。〃'



＇Translator's　note。…It　has　not　been　found　possible　to　make　a　rhymed

version　of　these　lines　without　sacrificing　the　simplicity　which　is

their　chief　charm。＇





This　part　of　herself　that　Mary　left　in　France　was　the　body　of　the

young　king；　who　had　taken　with　him　all　poor　Mary's　happiness　into　his

tomb。



Mary　had　but　one　hope　remaining；　that　the　sight　of　the　English　fleet

would　compel　her　little　squadron　to　turn　back；　but　she　had　to　fulfil

her　destiny。　　This　same　da