《书虫》系列 第1级

Mary, Queen of Scots

Chapter 6-9

《苏格兰玛丽女王》 [英] 提姆·维克瑞

I had a new man to help me now. The Earl of Bothwell—a strong, clever man. He was older than me; he was not a boy like Darnley. He worked hard and he could think. He was a good fighter and he was not afraid of other men. Perhaps you are like him, James, my son?

In January your father, Darnley, was ill in Glasgow. I went to see him, and took him back to Edinburgh. He was unhappy, and afraid of people. He saw enemies behind every door. Poor stupid boy! He said he loved me again. I was angry, but I felt sorry for him, too. He was very ill.

'It's not far now, Henry,' I said. 'You can sleep in the castle.'

'No, not there, please, Mary!' he said. 'I don't want to go into the castle. I'm afraid of it!'

'But where do you want to go?' I asked.

'Find me a little house outside the town, and stay with me there,' he said. 'We can be happy there.'

So I found him a small house called Kirk o'Field, outside Edinburgh. He stayed there, in a room upstairs, and some－times I slept in a room downstairs. Darnley was often afraid, and I visited him every day. Slowly, he got better.

On Sunday,9th February, there was a big wedding in Edinburgh. After the wedding, Bothwell and I walked out to Kirk o'Field to see Darnley and talk to him. Everyone sang, and laughed, and was very happy.

At ten o'clock I was tired. 'Good night, my lords,' I said. 'I'm going downstairs to bed.'

Lord Bothwell put his hand on my arm. 'Your Majesty,' he said. 'You can't sleep here now. Don't you remember? People are dancing and singing in town tonight—everyone wants you to go.'

'Oh, yes. I forgot,' I said. 'Of course, people want to see me there. So, good night, Henry. Sleep well.'

Darnley was very unhappy. 'Please, Mary my love, don't go!' he said. 'Don't leave me here!'

But I did not love him now. I remembered the night when Riccio died. So I smiled and said, 'Good night, Henry. Be a man now. don't be afraid of the dark.'

Then I went downstairs with Lord Bothwell. Outside the house, we met one of Bothwell's men. He looked afraid, and there was something black on his face and hands.

'Jesus, man, how dirty you are!' I said. 'Don't come near me with those hands.'

'No, my lady, of course not,' he said. He looked at Bothwell for a minute, and then ran away quickly. I laughed, got on my horse, and forgot about it.

I tell you before God, James, I did not kill your father. It was not me. I knew nothing about it—nothing!

I sang and danced in town, and then went to bed in Edinburgh Castle. Then, at two o'clock in the morning, there was a sudden noise—a very big BANG! Everybody heard it all through the town.

'My God!' I said. 'What's that?'

Everyone ran out of their rooms. Lord Bothwell was downstairs. 'Don't be afraid, ladies,' he said. 'My men are out－side—they're going to see what it is.'

After an hour he came to see me. 'Please sit down, my lady,' he said. 'I have some unhappy news.'

'Yes, my lord. What is it?'

'It's your husband, Lord Darnley. He is dead.'

'But—how? How did he die? Who killed him?'

'I don't know, my lady. That bang—that was his house, Kirk o'Field. It's not there anymore.'

'What? And Darnley was inside?'

'Well, no, my lady,' Bothwell said slowly.

'My men found him in the garden, not in the house. He is wearing only night clothes, and there is no blood on him. But he is dead. I am sorry.'

'Take me out there! I want to see him—now!'

'Yes, my lady.'

I went out to Kirk o'Field in the early morning. There was no house now—no walls, no doors, no windows—nothing. And there in the garden, a long way from the house, was that poor dead boy, my husband.

I did not love him but I cried then. He was your father, James, and I did not kill him. I don't know who killed him, but he had many enemies in Scotland.

I was very afraid. I, too, had enemies, and I often slept there. Perhaps someone wanted to kill me, too.

Soon everyone in Europe heard the news. The Queen of France and the Queen of England wrote angry letters to me. Who killed the King? they asked. I was very unhappy at this time, James. We looked for the killers, but we could not find them. Please believe me, James. The Scots lords are difficult men. Some were friends, some were enemies, but they changed all the time.

Many people in Scotland said: 'Bothwell killed Lord Darnley.' I heard them, outside the castle, and in the town. But I never believed it. People in Edinburgh sold horrible stories and pictures of Bothwell the same day that Darnley died. It was too soon. Perhaps Darnley's killers wrote these stories about Bothwell, before they killed Darnley.

I don't think Lord Bothwell killed your father, James. He was a good friend to me in difficult times. He was a good strong, clever man, and he worked hard. I liked that. A lot of women liked him, I think.

Three times that spring, he asked me to marry him. He had a wife, and I could not marry again, so soon. I asked him to wait.

Then, on 24th April, I rode out of Edinburgh to the north. I had five or six friends with me. Six miles outside the town, Lord Bothwell met us, with an army.

'Why are you here, my lord?' I said.

He smiled. 'Because I want to meet you, Mary,' he said. 'I want you to come with me to my castle.' He rode next to me, and his men rode between me and my friends.

I was afraid, and a little excited, too. 'But, my lord, you can't do this!' I said. 'I don't want to come with you now.'

'But I want you, Mary,' he said. 'Your friends can't stop me. I love you, and I want to marry you. What's wrong with that?'

I said nothing. What could I say? I liked him, and he had an army. I had only six friends. So I rode with him to his castle in Dunbar, and stayed there two weeks. And then… He was a strong man, and I was only a woman. And I did like him, James. I liked him very much.

After two weeks in Dunbar, Bothwell and I rode back to Edinburgh. His wife did not want him, and was happy to divorce him. So, on 15th May 1567, I married him.

He was a good man, James. A much better man than your father. I needed a strong man to help me rule the country.

But I was wrong. I understand that now. All the Scots lords were afraid of Bothwell, and many of them were his enemies. They had an army, and on 15th June, Bothwell and I rode out to fight them.

We met them at Carberry Hill. It was a hot day, and the two big armies stood, and looked, and waited. Their army had a big flag with a picture of your poor dead father, Darnley, on it. Under the picture, there were the words 'Find my killers, oh God.'

'Come on, my lord,' I said to Bothwell. 'Our army is better than theirs—let's fight them!'

Both well rode up and down, and talked to his men. But they didn't want to fight. They talked, and looked at the flag, and waited. Then some of them walked home.

At five o'clock that evening Lord Kirkcaldy rode from his army to talk to us. He said to me, 'My lady, leave your husband, and come with us. We don't want men to die.'

And so, because our men didn't want to fight, I went with him. It was a very bad day for me. They took me back to Edinburgh, and people in the streets screamed at me: 'Kill the woman! She sleeps with her husband's killer! We want James to be King! Kill her now!'

I was unhappy, and afraid, and I was pregnant again. They took me to Lochleven Castle, and put me in a room like a prison. There, I did not eat for two weeks, and Bothwell's children—there were two babies—born dead. I nearly died too—I was so angry and tired and ill. Then, one day after the babies died, Lord Lindsay gave me a letter. It said:

I, Mary, Queen of Scots, give the kingdom of Scotland to my son, James. From today, James is the new King of Scots. But because he is a child, the Earl of Moray, my half—brother, can rule the country for him.

Because I was afraid, and tired, and ill, I wrote my name on the letter: Mary. But it is not important, James, it doesn't change anything. I am Queen of Scots, not you. That letter changes nothing.

Bothwell went over the sea, and died in a prison in Denmark. I was a prisoner in Lochleven for a year. A lot of people in Europe were angry about that. Queen Elizabeth wrote to the Earl of Moray. 'You cannot keep a Queen in prison,' she said. 'It is very wrong!' I was pleased about that. But Moray didn't listen.

Lord Douglas lived in the castle, and his young son, William, liked me. One day, there was a wedding in the castle. People sang and danced and drank. William Douglas gave me some old women's clothes. I put the clothes on, and walked quietly out of the castle with him. He shut the castle door behind us, to keep his father's friends in. Then we got on some horses, and rode away through the night.

All my friends came back to me. Soon I had a big army. 'Mary is our Queen again!' people said. 'Give her back her son!' You were in Earl Moray's castle, James, so I came to fight him. I rode with my army to Langside, near Glasgow. And there…

There, James…

There, my son, I lost the fight. I am so sorry. I had many good, strong men in my army, but Earl Moray's men were stronger. Many of my men died, and some ran away. After the fight, I ran away too.

I did not want to go to prison again. So I rode south, to England. 'Queen Elizabeth wants to help me,' I thought. 'She understands. She wrote to Moray and she is a Queen, like me. I can come back to Scotland with her army, kill Moray, and find my baby son James. I am in England but I am free. I can try again.'

I was wrong about that, too. Very wrong.

Elizabeth didn't give me her army. She put me in prison. You know this, James—it is the story of your life, not mine. I was twenty－five years old when I came to England, and I am forty－five now. Twenty years in English prisons.

Moray told lies about me. Mary and Bothwell killed Darn－ley, he said. Mary slept with Riccio and Bothwell and killed her husband. But it's not true! They're all lies, James— wicked lies! They only said these things because I am a woman, and a Catholic, and they don't want a Catholic queen in Scotland, they want a Protestant king.

A king like you, James. Why, James my son, don't you help me? Why are you friendly with Elizabeth, my enemy? You don't want me back in Scotland, do you? You believe these lies, don't you? You talk to Moray and his friends, every day. But they lied about me, James. Moray and his friends killed Riccio Then killed your father, too. They stole my husband Bothwell, stole my son…

Stole my son's love…

I am sorry, James. Forgive me. Sometimes I get very angry. It is difficult not to be angry, when you are in prison for twenty years.

Elizabeth didn't know what to do. Sometimes she believed Moray, sometimes she didn't. She was afraid to kill me, be-cause I was a Queen. She was afraid to let me go free, because I have friends in England. The English Catholics want me to be Queen of England, not her. And she is a woman with no husband and no son, so she hates me, too.

Sometimes the English Catholics write to me and ask me for help, and sometimes I write to them. Sometimes Elizabeth's men find these letters. The English Protestants want to kill me because of these letters. 'You are a wicked woman!' they say: 'You killed your husband, Darnley, and now you want to kill our Queen Elizabeth. You're going to die!'

'I did not kill my husband,' I said. 'And when l came to England, I did not want to kill your Queen. I asked her for help—I wanted to go back to Scotland! But, my lords, she put me in prison for twenty years! Twenty years, my lords! I want to be free—don't you understand that? when men write to me and try to help me, then yes, sometimes I write back! Why not? Is that wicked, do you think?'

They didn't listen. Of course not. They want to kill me. And so they wrote to Queen Elizabeth. And now I sit here, in Fotheringhay Castle, and wait for her to answer. I do not want to die, James my son, but I do not want to live all my life in an English prison. I am old, and tired of life. Think well of me, James, my son, and…

Queen Mary stopped writing then. Yesterday afternoon,7th February 1587, we heard a horse outside our window. Mary looked out. There was a man there, on the road from London. He had a letter from the Queen of England.

In the evening, an Englishman, Lord Shrewsbury, came to see Mary, 'I am sorry, my lady,' he said. 'But I have a letter from my Queen. You're going to die, tomorrow.'

Mary did not move. 'When?' she asked quietly.

'At half past eight in the morning,' he said. 'I am very sorry, my lady.' He went away.

We did not sleep much that night. We talked and prayed to God, and she gave me her letter to her son, James. 'Give it to him, Bess, please,' she said. 'And tell him how I died.'

'Yes, my lady,' I said. And so now I am going to tell you. King James. This is how your mother died.

At six o'clock she got up, prayed, and dressed. She put on a red petticoat first, then a black dress, and a white veil over the dress. The veil came from her head to her feet; she could see out through it, but we could not see her face. She looked like a woman on her wedding day.

When the Englishmen came we went downstairs with her. Her little dog walked beside her, under the veil, but the Englishmen didn't see that. Six of us went into a big room with her. A hundred people stood and watched.

A Protestant churchman came to talk to her, 'My lady,' he said. 'Pray with me—'

'No,' she said. 'Thank you, but no. I was born a Catholic and I'm going to die a Catholic. I think God understands that.' she prayed for five minutes, and then stood up. The executioner came towards her. He was a big, strong man with an axe, and something black over his face.

'I am sorry, my lady,' he said. 'I don't hate you, but this is my work. Please forgive me.'

'Of course I forgive you,' Mary said. 'I am old, and tired, and you're going to open my prison doors for me. I am going to see God. Do your work well.'

Then she looked at me and her friends. 'Don't cry for me, ladies,' she said. 'Please, don't cry now.'

She could not walk to the block, so the executioner helped her. He took off her white veil, and then he took off her black dress, and put it on the floor. She stood there, in her red petticoat, with a smile on her face. Then the executioner put something over her eyes. Very slowly, Mary put her head on the block.

'The Lord my God is my one true friend,' she said. 'I give my life, oh God, into your hands.'

Then the executioner lifted his axe, once… twice… oh God! three times…and her head—her poor, poor head, fell on the floor.

It was very quiet in the room after that. It is a little thing, a head—a very little thing. But there was so much blood—blood on her red petticoat, blood on her black dress and her white veil, blood on the executioner's shoes, blood all over the floor. Blood, blood everywhere.

We all looked, and said nothing. The executioner put down his axe and stood quietly. And then Mary's little dog came out from under her bloody dress and veil, and walked slowly, un-happily, through the blood towards her head.

My lord, the story of your poor mother's life finishes here. We, her friends, cry for her, but that is how your mother died. She died like a Queen. A good lady and a famous Queen.

Mary, Queen of Scots.

——The End——

[书虫] 系列—— 

01、Love or Money 本号：

「1」Chapter 1-3 718347

「2」Chapter 4-5 733948

「3」Chapter 6-7 749549

02、Mary, Queen of Scots 本号：

「1」Chapter 1-5 738806

「2」Chapter 6-9 723205 （本集）