第9章 MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS 苏格兰的玛丽女王
I looked far back into other years, and lo! in bright array
I saw, as in a dream, the forms of ages passed away.
It was a stately convent with its old and lofty walls,
And gardens with their broad green walks, where soft the footstep falls;
And o'er the antique dial-stone the creeping shadow passed,
And, all around, the noon-day sun a drowsy radiance cast.
No sound of busy life was heard, save from the cloister dim
The tinkling of the silver bell, or the sisters' holy hymn.
And there five noble maidens sat beneath the orchard trees,
In that first budding spring of youth when all its prospects please;
And little recked they, when they sang, or knelt at vesper prayers,
That Scotland knew no prouder names—held none more dear than theirs; —
And little even the loveliest thought, before the holy shrine,
Of royal blood and high descent from the ancient Stuart line:
Calmly her happy days flew on, uncounted in their flight;
And as they flow, they left behind a long-continuing light.
The scene was changed.It was the court,the gay court of Bourbon,
And 'neath a thousand silver lamps a thousand courtiers throng
And proudly kindles Henry's eye—well pleased, I ween, to see
The land assemble all its wealth of grace and chivalry:—
But fairer far than all the rest who bask on Fortune's tide,
Effulgent in the light of youth, is she, the new-made bride!
The homage of a thousand hearts—the fond, deep love of one—
The hopes that dance around a life whose charms are but begun, —
They lighten up her chestnut eye, they mantle o'er her cheek,
They sparkle on her open brow, and high-souled joy bespeak:
Ah! who shall blame, if scarce that day, through all its brilliant hours,
She thought of that quiet convent's calm, its sunshine and its flowers?
The scene was changed.It was a bark that slowly held its way,
And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay;
And on its deck a Lady sat, who gazed with tearful eye
Upon the fast receding hills, that dim and distant rise.
No marvel that the Lady wept, —there was no land on earth
She loved like that dear land, although she owed it not her birth;
It was her mother's land, the land of childhood and of friends, —
It was the land where she had found for all her griefs amends, —
The land where her dead husband slept—the land where she had known
The tranquil convent's hushed repose, and the splendours of a throne;
No marvel that the Lady wept—it was the land of France—
The chosen home of chivalry—the garden of romance!
The past was bright, like those dear hills so far behind her bark;
The future, like the gathering night, was ominous and dark!
One gaze again—one long, last gaze—“Adieu, fair France to thee!”
The breeze comes forth—she is alone on the unconscious sea!
The scene was changed.It was an eve of raw and surly mood,
And in a turret-chamber high of ancient Holyrood
Sat Mary, listening to the rain, and sighing with the winds,
That seemed to suit the stormy state of men's uncertain minds.
The touch of care had blanched her cheek—her smile was sadder now:
The weight of royalty had pressed too heavy on her brow;
And traitors to her councils came, and rebels to the field; —
The Stuart sceptre well she swayed,but the sword she could not wield.
She thought of all her blighted hopes—the dreams of youth's brief day,
And summoned Rizzio with his lute, and bade the minstrel play
The songs she loved in early years—the songs of gay Navarre;
The songs perchance that erst were sung by gallant Chatelar:
They half beguiled her of her cares, they soothed her into smiles,
They won her thoughts from bigot zeal and fierce domestic broils:
But hark! the tramp of armed men! the Douglas' battle-cry
They come! —they come! —and lo! the scowl of Ruthven's hollow eye!
And swords are drawn,and daggers gleam,and tears and words are vain—
The ruffian steel is in his heart—the faithful Rizzio's slain!
Then Mary Stuart dashed aside the tears that trickling fell:
“Now for my father's arm!” she said; —“my woman's heart farewell!”
The scene was changed.It was a lake,with one small lonely isle;
And there, within the prison-walls of its baronial pile,
Stem men stood menacing their Queen, till she should stoop to sign
The traitorous scroll that snatched the crown from her ancestral line.
“My lords! —my lords!” the captive said, “were I but once more free,
With ten good knights on yonder shore to aid my cause and me,
That parchment would I scatter wide to every breeze that blows,
And once more reign a Stuart Queen o'er my remorseless foes!”
A red spot burned upon her cheek—streamed her rich tresses down;
She wrote the words—she stood erect—a Queen without a crown!
The scene was changed.A royal host a royal banner bore.
And the faithful of the land stood round their smiling Queen once more.
She stayed her steed upon a hill—she saw them marching by—
She heard their shouts—she read success in every flashing eye.
The tumult of the strife begins—it roars—it dies away;
And Mary's troops and banners now, and courtiers—where are they?
Scattered and strewn, and flying far, defenceless and undone; —
Alas! to think what she has lost, and all that guilt has won! —
Away! away! thy gallant steed must act no laggard's part;
Yet vain his speed—for thou dost bear the arrow in thy heart!
The scene was changed.Beside the block a sullen headsman stood,
And gleamed the broad axe in his hand, that soon must drip with blood.
With slow and steady step there came a Lady through the hall,
And breathless silence chained the lips and touched the hearts of all.
I knew that queenly form again, though blighted was its bloom;
I saw that grief had decked it out—an offering for the tomb!
I knew the eye, though faint its light, that once so brightly shone;
I knew the voice, though feeble now, that thrilled with every tone;
I knew the ringlets, almost gray, once threads of living gold!
I knew that bounding grace of step—that symmetry of mould!
Even now I see her far away, in that calm convent isle,
I hear her chant her vesper-hymn, I mark her holy smile, —
Even now I see her bursting forth upon the bridal morn,
A new star in the firmament, to light and glory born!
Alas, the change! —she placed her foot upon a triple throne,
And on the scaffold now she stands—beside the block—alone
The little dog that licks her hand, the last of all the crowd
Who sunned themselves beneath her glance and round her footsteps bowed!
Her neck is bared—the blow is struck—the soul is passed away!
The bright, the beautiful, is now—a bleeding piece of clay!
The dog is moaning piteously; and, as it gurgles o'er,
Laps the warm blood that trickling runs unheeded to the floor
The blood of beauty, wealth, and power—the heart-blood of a Queen, —
The noblest of the Stuart race—the fairest earth has seen, —
Lapped by a dog! Go think of it, in silence and alone;
Then weigh against a grain of sand the glories of a throne!
—HENRY GLASSFORD BELL
Words
antique,old-fashioned.
beguiled,cheated.
bespeak,betoken.
blanched,made pale.
blighted withered.
cloister,convent.
courtiers,nobles.
defenseless,unprotected.
descent,lineage.
effulgent,splendid.
faithful,loyal.
firmament,heavens.
gleamed,flashed.
headsman,executioner.
homage,reverence.
laggard,loiterer.
lapped,licked.
marvel,wonder.
menacing,threatening.
minstrel,songster.
ominous,portentous.
pertinent,scroll.
piteously,mournfully.
receding,retiring.
remorseless,pitiless.
ruffian,cruel.
stately,majestic.
seminary,regularity.
traitorous,treacherous.
tranquil,peaceful.
tumult,uproar.
unconscious,insensible.
unheeded,disregarded.
我回头向遥远的过去望去，哦！在明亮的光辉中，
我看见，年岁逝去的样子，就像在梦里一般。
那是一座庄严的修道院，它的墙壁古老而高贵，
而花园里宽阔的绿色的路，上面有轻柔的脚步踏过；
那年代久远的刻度盘石头上，有让人害怕的影子经过，
周遭的一切，都被中午的太阳投上一种昏昏欲睡的光彩。
没有熙熙攘攘的生活的声响，只有那修道院的晦暗，
银铃子的清脆声，或是修女们的圣歌的哼唱。
有五位高贵的女子正端坐在果树下，
在那花骨朵萌生青春的春季里，所有的一切都令人惬意，
苏格兰人知道的最高贵的名字——没有人的名字比她们的更高贵了；
在这神圣的神殿前，甚至几乎没有听到过，
关于皇家血脉和从古老的斯图尔特一脉而衍生高贵后代的最美好的想法：
她幸福的时光静静地倏忽而去，如同白驹过隙一般；
随着它们的流逝，留下了一道久久持续的光。
（场景转换。）宫廷里，在位于波旁王朝欢快的宫廷里，
一千盏银色的宫灯下站立着一千个朝臣，
灯光照亮了亨利的眼睛——我想，能看到他，非常满意的神色，
地上聚集的全是高贵的淑女和勇猛的骑士，
但比所有的人更高贵的则是那在财富的浪涛中沐浴，
在青春的光辉中灿烂的，她，那位新娘！
千万人的效忠尊崇——对一个人的喜欢和深深爱戴，
认为在一个魅力即将绽放的生命身旁跳舞的希冀，
它们照亮了她那栗子色的眸子，照耀在她的脸颊上，
在她那舒展的眉毛上闪亮，诉说着满心的欢喜：
啊！如果仅仅在那天，在那么多的美好时光之后，她还想着
在修道院的安静时光，那里的阳光和花朵，那么应该责怪于谁？
（场景转换。）犬吠声慢慢地从路上传来，
在那位于法兰西海岸边的路的庇荫处，在傍晚的光线下，
有一位小姐坐在露天台上，眼含热泪凝望着那快速退去的群山，隐约闪现。
难怪这位小姐啜泣，世界上没有一片土地像这片土地一样，
让她如此挚爱，虽然它不仅是她的出生地；
这是她母亲的土地，她童年时光和朋友的土地，
这是她所有的忧伤得到疗养的地方，
在这片土地上，她亲爱的丈夫长眠于世了。这片她曾经了解的土地，
安静的修道院悄无声息，王冠光辉闪耀；
难怪这位小姐啜泣，这是法兰西的土地，
骑士选定的家园——浪漫的花园！
过往的岁月都明亮起来，就像那些退到她身后的亲爱的山峦；
而未来，则像乌云密布的夜晚，透着不祥和黑暗的色彩！
再凝望一眼——那长长的，最后的凝望——“永别了，我亲爱的法兰西！”
微风吹拂，她独自一人漂泊在无意识的大海！
（场景转换。）这是满怀原始而坚决的心意的前夕，
在古老的霍利鲁德的高高的炮塔楼室里，
玛丽坐在那里，听着雨的声响，合着风叹着气，
这似乎和暴风雨天气下人们不确信的心情相契合。
关怀的抚摸让她的双颊发白——她的微笑变得更悲伤了，
此时此刻，
皇室的重担向她的双眉压得太重，
还有背叛她的议会的叛徒以及国家的叛乱者。
她很好地挥动着斯图尔特的王权，但却不能挥动宝剑。
她想到所有那些自己枯萎的希望——年少时无忧无虑的日子做得白日梦，
她把里兹奥召唤到身边，让他带上自己的弹诗琴，吟唱诗歌，
她早年挚爱的那些歌曲——那些欢快的纳瓦拉的歌曲；
在往昔，那些歌曲偶尔会被勇敢的夏特利尔吟唱，
他们半哄着她让她能照拂自己，他们安抚她让她微笑，
他们因着那偏执的热情和强烈的国内的如火如荼的情形中赢得了她的心：
然而请听，武装的人踩踏过的声音！道格拉斯的战场上嚎叫的声音！
他们来了！——他们来了！——哦！卢思文空洞的眼睛中的愁容！
剑已经出鞘，匕首在闪亮，泪水和话语都是多余的，
恶棍般的钢铁已经插入他的心脏——忠贞的里兹奥被杀害了！
玛丽斯图尔特热泪盈眶而潸然泪下：
“为了我父亲的左膀右臂，我的心之所属，永别了！”
（场景转换。）这是一个中间有座孤岛的湖泊，
那里，在男爵的监狱高墙内，
壮硕的男人站立着恐吓他们的女王，直到她妥协签字，
叛乱者把她从世代的王位上拽了下来。
“上帝啊！——上帝啊！”被俘虏的女王喊道，“如果我能重获自由，
身边有十位好骑士在那边的海岸帮助我的事业和我，
我会把羊皮纸到处挥舞，挥舞到每一阵吹拂着的风中，
如果我能重新成为斯图尔特的女王，居于我那无情的敌人之上！”
一个红点灼在她脸颊上——顺着她高贵的头发向下流动；
她把这些话写下——站直了身子——就是一个无冕的女王！
（场景转换。）皇家的人举着皇家的旗帜。
对国家忠诚的臣子们再一次围绕在微笑着的女王身边。
她骑着骏马在山上，她看见他们向着这边跋涉，
她听到他们的喊叫声，她从他们闪动的眼睛中看到了成功的色彩。
骚乱的冲突开始了——它怒吼——它消散；
玛丽的军队和战旗呢？去那儿了？
散落在地上，破败不堪，飘零在远处，毫无防备抵抗；
啊！想想她失去的东西吧，想想她的愧疚吧！
去了！去了！你的英勇的骏马一定不会落后；
但是它再快也来不及了，因为你的心脏上中了一箭！
（场景转换。）在街头，一个脸色沉郁的人站立着，
他手中是闪亮的宽斧，不久就会滴血。
一位小姐穿过大厅，踏着缓慢而稳重的步子走过去，
所有人的嘴唇像上了锁链一样闭住呼吸，心脏也无声地跳动着。
我知道这是女王的架势，虽然光线晦暗；
我看见忧伤探出头来，走向坟墓的邀约！
我知道这眼睛，虽然眼神模糊，曾经却如此闪亮；
我知道这声音，虽然现在低弱，曾经却震悚世人；
我知道这指环，几乎发白，曾经却是金光熠熠！
甚至现在我看见她就在远处，在那安静的修道院的小岛上，
我听到她哼唱着圣歌，我看到她圣洁的笑容，
甚至现在我看见她当上新娘的那个早晨，
一颗天空中的新星，耀眼而光明！
啊，一切都变了！她坚持三权为己独尊，
如今站在了断头台上，就在大街旁边，独自一人
小狗舔着她的手，最后的民众
那些她眼神扫过的人们，她脚边的人们
对她鞠躬！
她香颈已断——刀已落下——香消玉殒！
那曾闪耀的美丽的人儿现在成了滴血的一摊泥土！
狗发出可怜的呻吟声，当它叫着，
跪在那滴滴答答在地上弥散着的温暖鲜血里，
那美丽的，拥有财富和权势的人儿的血，世间曾经的最美丽的人儿，
居然被一只狗朝跪！安静想想吧，独自想想吧，
王座的光荣最终敌不过一抔尘土的力量！
——亨利·格拉斯福德·贝尔