bru. do you know them?
luc. no, sir; their hats are plucked about their brows,
and half their faces buried in their cloaks,
that by no means i may discover them
by any marks of favor.—julius c?sar.
the shadows of an early evening, in the ungenial month of march, were already gathering among the narrow streets and wynds of the scottish metropolis. there was a melancholy air of solitude about the grim and dusky edifices, which towered to the height of twelve or thirteen stories against the gray horizon. no lights streamed from the casements, no voices sounded in loud revelry or chastened merriment from the dwellings of the gloomy quarter in which the scene of our narrative is laid. the cheerless aspect of the night, together with the drizzling rain, which fell in silent copiousness, had banished every human being from the streets; and, except the smoke which eddied from the dilapidated chimneys, and was instantly beat down to earth by the violence of the shower, there was no sign of any other inhabitants, than the famished dogs which were snarling over the relics of some thrice-picked bone. suddenly the sharp clatter of hoofs, in rapid motion over the broken pavement, rose above the splashing of the flooded gutters, betokening the approach of men; and ere a minute had elapsed two horsemen, gallantly mounted, rode hotly up the street. the foremost bestriding, with the careless ease of an accomplished rider, a jennet, whose thin jaws, expanded nostril, and flashing eye, no less than the deerlike springiness of its gait, and its unrivalled symmetry, proclaimed it sprung from the best blood of the desert, was of a figure that could not be looked upon, however slightly, without awakening a sense of324 interest, perhaps of admiration, in all beholders.
his countenance, of an oval form, and of a darker hue than the blue-eyed sons of northern latitudes are wont to exhibit—the full and somewhat wild expression of his dark eye, the melancholy smile which played upon his curling lip, pencilled mustache, and the peaked beard—contributing to form a face that antonio vandyke would have loved to paint, and after ages to admire, when invested with the life of his rich coloring. his dress of russet velvet slashed with satin, his feathered cap, with its gay fanfaronae and enamelled medal, his jeweled rapier, and the bright spurs in his falling buskins, were well adapted to the agile limbs and slender, though symmetrical proportions of the horseman.
e the fanfarona was a richly-fashioned chain of goldsmith’s work, not worn about the neck, but twisted in two or more circuits around the rim of the cap, or bonnet, and terminating in a heavy medal. it was probably of spanish origin, but was much in vogue in the courts of mary and elizabeth.
the second rider was a boy, whose black and scarlet liveries—the well-known colors of all servitors of the scottish crown—were but imperfectly hidden by the frieze cloak which had been cast over them, evidently for the purposes of concealment, rather than of comfort; yet he, too, like the gallant whom he followed—if any faith was to be placed in the evidence of raven hair and olive complexion—owed his birth to some more southern clime.
after winding rapidly through several dim and unfrequented lanes, the leading horseman, checking his speed, gazed around him with a doubtful and bewildered eye.
“madre di dio,” he exclaimed at length, “what a night is here; a thousand curses on this learned fool, that he must dwell in such a den of thieves as this; or rather a thousand curses on the blind and heretical scots, that drive a man of wisdom, beyond their shallow comprehension, to bed with the very outcasts of society. pietro, what ho!” and he raised his325 voice above the key in which he had pitched his soliloquy, “knowest thou the dwelling of this sage—this johan damietta? methought that i had noted the spot, yet have these sordid lanes banished the recollection. presto, time fails already.”
without uttering a syllable in reply, the page sprung from his horse, and pointed to the doorway of a mansion, dilapidated even more than those in its vicinity, yet bearing in its site the marks of having been constructed in former days for the residence of some proud baron. nor even now—although all the appliances of comfort were utterly neglected, although the casements were void of glass, and the chimneys sent up no volumes from a cheerful hearth—were the external defences of the pile forgotten; heavy bars of iron crossed and recrossed the deep-set embrasure which once had held the windows, and the oaken gate was clenched with many a massive nail and plate of rusted iron. the cavalier alighted, cast the rein to his servitor, and with the single word “prudence,” ascended the stone steps, and struck thrice at measured intervals upon the wicket with his rapier’s hilt. the door flew open, but without the agency, as it appeared, of any living being, and, as the visiter entered, was closed again behind him with a heavy crash.
a narrow passage was before him, scarcely rendered visible by the flickering light of a cresset suspended from the ceiling, and nourished, as it seemed, with spirit, rather than with the richer food of oil. uncertain, however, as was the illumination, it served to show a second door, even more strongly constructed than the first, fronting the intruder at the distance of some ten paces; while the wall, perforated with loops for musketry, or more probably, if the remote antiquity of the building were considered, for arrows, proved that the hostile intruder had effected but little in forcing his way through the outward326 entrance. it would be wrong, in the description of this difficult passage, to omit the mention of certain orifices, or slits, extending in length from the floor even to the ceiling of the side-walls, but not exceeding a single inch in width, as they may tend perhaps to cast some light upon an invention of the darkest ages of scottish history, the reality of which has been considered doubtful by acute antiquarians. from the upper extremity of these slits protruded on either side the blades of six enormous swords, which, being placed alternately, and worked by some concealed machinery, must inevitably hew to atoms, when once set in motion, any obstacle to their appalling sway. this was the dreaded swordmill first discovered by the wizard baron soulis, and thence invested with superstitious error, which was needless, at the least, when the actual horrors of the engine were considered. it is, however, probable, that these gigantic relics of an earlier age were no longer capable of being rendered available at the period of which we write; at all events they hung in rusty blackness, suspended like the sword of damocles above the head of the intruder, rendering his position awful, at least, if not in reality insecure.
notwithstanding the warlike and turbulent character of scotland during the reign of mary, there was nevertheless enough of the uncommon in the defences of this dark and dangerous entrance to have riveted the attention of a man less anxiously engaged than was the foreign cavalier. apparently undismayed by the wild contrivances around him, the gallant strode forward to repeat his signal on the inner wicket, when a broad glare of crimson light, produced by some chemical preparation, considered in that dark age supernatural, was shot into his very face from an aperture above, clearly displaying to some concealed observer the form and features of his visiter.
“ha!” cried a voice so shrill and grating as to produce a painful impression on the nerves of the hearer. “thou art327 come hither, sir italian; enter, then—enter in the name of albunazar!—enter, the hour is propitious, and thou art waited for!”
the door revolved noiselessly on its hinges, and a few steps brought the italian to the chamber of the sage. it was a small and central cell, without the slightest visible communication with the outward air. books of strange characters and instruments of singular device were scattered on the floor, the tables, and the seats; astrolabes, globes of the terrestrial and celestial world, crucibles, and vials of rare and potent mixtures, lay beside discolored bones, reptiles, and loathsome things from tropical climes, some stuffed, and others carefully preserved in spirit. a huge furnace glimmered in the corner, covered with vessels containing, doubtless, alembics of unearthly power; a large black cat—to which inoffensive animal wild notions of infernal origin were then attached—and a gigantic owl, perched on a fleshless skull, completed the ornaments of this receptacle of superstitious quackery, which was rendered as light as day by the aid of some composition, burning in a lamp so brilliantly as to dazzle the firmest eye. in the midst of this confused assemblage of things, useless and revolting alike to reason and humanity, the master-spirit of his tribe was seated—a small old man, whose massive forehead, pencilled with the deep lines of thought, would have betokened a profound and powerful mind, had not the quick flash of the small and deeply-seated eye belied, by its crafty and malignant glances, all symptoms of a noble nature.
“hail, signor david!” he said, but without raising his eyes from the retort over which he was poring. “hail! methought that thou didst hold the wisdom of the sage mere quackery! ha! out upon such changeful, feather-pated knaves, who scoff before men at that which they respect—ay, which they tremble at in private!—tremble! well mayst thou tremble—for thy328 doom is fixed! see,” he cried, in a fearfully unnatural tone, as he raised the metallic rod with which he had been stirring the contents of the glass vessel, and exhibited it dripping with some crimson-colored liquid—“see! it is gore—thy gore, signor david!—ha, ha, ha!” and he laughed with fiendish glee at the evident discomposure of his guest.
“nay, nay, good father—” he began, when the other cut him off abruptly—
“‘good father!’—ha, ha, ha! good devil! fool, dost think that thou canst change the destinies that were eternal, before so vain a thing as thou wast in existence, by thine unmeaning flatteries? i spit upon such courtesies! ‘good father!’ listen to my words, and mark if i be good. thou hast risen by meanness, and flattery, and cringing, and vice; thou hast disgraced thy rise by insolence and folly—weak, drivelling folly; and thou shalt fall—ha, ha, ha!—fall like a dog! look to thyself!—‘good father!’ begone, or thou shalt hear more, and that which thou wilt like even less than this—begone!”
“i meant not to offend thee,” replied the astonished courtier, “and i pray thee be not distempered. i have broken in on thy retirement to witness that unearthly skill of which men speak, and i would ask of thee in courtesy mine horoscope, that i may so report thee—”
“thou! thou report me, david rizzio! the wire-pinching, sonned-jingling, base-born scullion, report of johan damietta! get thee away! i know thee! begone—nay, if thou wilt have it, listen: bloody shall be thine end, and base. a bastard foeman is in thy house of life. tremble at the name—”
“rather,” interrupted the italian, enraged at the language of the conjurer, “rather let that bastard tremble at the name of rizzio; and thou, old man, i leave thee as i came, undaunted by thy threats, and unconvinced by thy jugglery.”
329 “to-night! to-night!” hissed the old man, in notes of horrible malignity—“to-night shalt thou know if damietta be a juggler! if thou wouldst live—for i would have thee live, poor worm—fly from the hatred of the scottish nobles!—away!”
“know’st thou,” asked rizzio, tauntingly, “a scottish proverb—if not, i will instruct thee—framed, if i read it rightly, to express the character of their own factious brawlers? ‘the bark is aye waur than the bite.’ adieu, old man! to-morrow thou shalt learn if rizzio fears or thee or thy most doughty brawlers.”
“ha, ha, ha!—to-morrow! mark that—to-morrow!” and a yell of laughter burst from every corner of the chamber; the mixture in the retort exploded with a stunning crash, the lights were extinguished, and, without being aware of the manner of his exit, the royal secretary found himself beyond the outer gate of the wizard’s dwelling, with a throbbing pulse and swimming brain, but still, to do him justice, undismayed by that which his naturally incredulous and sneering turn of mind, rather than any clear conviction of the truth, led him to consider as a mere imposture.
without replying a syllable to the inquiries of the terrified page, who had heard the frightful sounds within, he flung himself into his saddle, plunged the rowels into the flanks of the jennet until she reared and plunged with terror, and dashed homeward at a fearful rate through alleys now as dark as midnight. nor did he draw his bridle till he had passed the guarded portals of the palace, and galloped into the inmost court of holyrood: there indeed he checked his courser with a violence which almost hurled her on her haunches, sprang from her back, and, without looking round, hurried into the most private entrance, and disappeared.
scarcely had he passed through the gateway, and ere yet the page had left the courtyard with the horses, when the sentinel,330 who had permitted the well-known secretary of the queen to pass unquestioned, brought down his partisan to the charge, and challenged, as a tall figure, whose clanging step announced him to be sheathed in armor cap-à-pie, muffled in a dark mantle, with a hood like that worn by the romish priesthood drawn close around his head, approached him.
“stand, ho! the word—”
“another word, and thou never speakest more!” replied the other, in a hoarse, rapid whisper, offering a petronel, cocked, and his finger on the trigger, at the very throat of the astonished soldier; “the king requires no password!”
“the king?” replied the sentinel, doubtfully, “the king?—i know not, nor would i willingly offend; but thou art not, methinks, his majesty.”
“take that, thou fool, to settle all thy doubts!” cried the other, in the same deep whisper as before; while, casting his weapon into the air, he caught it by the muzzle as it turned over, and sunk the loaded butt deep into the forehead of the unwary sentinel. the whole was scarcely the work of an instant; and ere the heavy body could fall to earth, the ready hand of the assailant had caught it, and suffered it to drop so gently as to create no sound. in another moment he was joined by three or four other persons similarly disguised, and followed by a powerful guard of spearmen. a heavy watch of these was posted at the principal gateway, and knots of others were disposed around the court at every private entrance, with orders to let none pass on any pretext whatsoever. “warn them to stand back twice! the third time kill!” was the muttered order of the chief actor in the previous tragedy. “so far, my liege, all’s well!” he continued, turning with an air of some respect to another of the muffled figures, of a port somewhat less commanding than his own huge proportions; “and morton must, ere this, have seized all the remaining avenues.”331 while he was yet speaking, a slight bustle was heard at a distance, and in a second’s space they were joined by him of whom they spoke.
“how goes the business, morton?” said the first speaker.
“all well!—the gates are ours, and not a soul disturbed; the villain sentinels laid down their arms at once, and are even now in ward! let us be doing: a deed like this permits of no delay!”
“on, friends! be silent, and be certain!”
and one by one they filed through the same portal by which the italian had, so short a time before, sped to the presence of his royal mistress.
in the meantime, unconscious of the fearful tragedy that was even then in preparation, the lovely queen, with her most trusted servants, the devoted david, and the noble countess of argyle, had retired from the strict ceremonies of the court circle to the privacy of her own apartments.
in a small ante-chamber, scarcely twelve feet in width, communicating with the solitary chamber of the queen—solitary, for the notorious profligacy and insolent neglect of darnley had left her an almost widowed wife—the board was spread, glittering with gold and crystal, and covered with the delicacies of the evening meal.
the beautiful queen, freed from the galling chains of ceremony, her robes of state thrown by, and attired in the elegant simplicity of a private lady, sat there—her lovely features beaming with condescension and with unaffected pleasure, conversing joyously with those whom she had selected from her court as worthiest of her especial favor. bitterly, cruelly had she been deceived in the character of him whom she had in truth made a king; for whose gratification she had almost exceeded the rights of her prerogative, and given deep offence to her haughty and suspicious nobles; having discovered, when332 too late, that, while possessed of all the graces and accomplishments that constitute an elegant and agreeable admirer, henry darnley was deficient, miserably deficient, in all that can render a man eligible as a friend and husband. deserted, neglected, outraged in a woman’s tenderest point, almost before the first month of her nuptials had elapsed, the flattering dream had passed away which had promised years of happy, peaceful communion with one loved and loving partner. ever preferring the society of any other fair one to that of the lovely being to whom he should have been bound by every tie of love and gratitude, the king had early left his disconsolate bride to pine in total seclusion, or to seek for recreation in the society of those whose qualities of mind, if not their rank, might render them fit companions for her solitude; and she, poor victim of a brutal husband, and unhappy mistress of a turbulent and warlike nation, fell blindly but most innocently into the snare of her unrelenting enemies.
of all who were around her person, rizzio alone was such by habits, education, and accomplishments, as could lend attraction to the circle of a gay and youthful queen. accustomed, from her earliest youth, to the elegant and polished manners of the french nobility, the rude and illiterate barons—with whom the highest grade of knowledge was the marshalling of a host for the battle-field, and the highest merit the fighting in the front rank when marshalled—could appear to her in no other light than that of brutal and uneducated savages. what wonder, then, that a youth well skilled as david rizzio in all the arts and elegances most suitable to a noble cavalier, handsome withal and courteous, attentive even to adoration to her slightest wish, and ever contrasting his cultivated mind with the untutored rudeness of the warrior-lords of scotland, should have been admitted to a degree of intimacy by his forsaken mistress, innocent, undoubtedly, and pardonable, even should we be disposed333 to admit that it was imprudent?
two menials in the royal livery waited upon that noble company, but without the servile reverence which was exacted at the public festivals of royalty. the fair argyle, who, in any other presence than that of her unrivalled mistress, would have been second to none in loveliness, jested and smiled with mary more in the manner of a beloved companion than that of an attendant to a queen. but on the brow of david there was a deep and heavy gloom; and when he answered to the persiflage and polished railleries of the queen or that young countess, although his words were gay, and at times almost tender, the tones of his voice were grave almost to sadness.
“what has befallen our worthy secretary?” said mary, after many fruitless efforts to inspire him with livelier feelings. “thou art no more the gay and gallant signor david of other days than thou resemblest the stern and steel-clad—”
even as she spoke, it seemed as though her words had conjured up an apparition: for a figure, sheathed in steel from crest to spur, strode, with a step that faltered even amid its pride, from out the shadows of her private chamber into the full glare of the lamps. the vizor was raised, and the pale brow and haggard eye, the uncombed beard, and the corpse-like hue of the whole visage, better beseemed the character of some foul spirit released from its peculiar place, than of a noble baron in the presence of his queen. a loud shriek from the terrified argyle first called the attention of mary to the strange intruder. but david sat with his eye glaring, in a horrible mixture of personal apprehension and superstitious dread, upon the person of his deadliest foeman.
“arise, david, thou minion! arise, and quit the presence to which thou art a foul and plague-like blot!” cried the deep voice of ruthven, ere a word had yet found its way to the lips334 of the indignant queen.
“sir patrick ruthven—if our eyes deceive us not,” she said at length, erecting her noble figure to its utmost, and bending upon him a glance which, hardened as he was in crime and cruelty, he could no more have met with his than the vile raven have gazed upon the noonday sun—“sir patrick ruthven, we would learn what means this insolent intrusion?”
“it means, fair madam,” replied darnley—who now followed his savage instrument, accompanied by his no less fierce accomplices, the base-born douglas, the brutal ker of fawdonside, in bearing and in manners fitted rather for the guardhouse than the court, and the most thorough ruffian of the party, patrick de balantyne—“it means that your vile minion’s race is run!”
“ha! comes the blow from thee?—i might indeed have deemed it so,” she replied, calmly but scornfully. “what is your grace’s pleasure?” and she smiled in beautiful contempt.
“my pleasure is that he—yon base italian, yon destroyer of my honor, and of yours—of your honor, madam, if you know such a word—shall perish!”
“never, henry darnley! mine own life sooner!” and she confronted him with flashing eyes and heightened color, her whole frame quivering with resolve and indignation. “thinkst thou to put a stain like this upon the honor of a queen, and that queen, too, thine own much-injured wife? out, out upon thee, for a heartless, coward thing! a man, a brute, hath some affection, hath some touch of love for those who have loved him, as i have once loved thee; of gratitude toward those who have elevated him—not, no! not as i have elevated thee—for never yet did woman lavish honor, power, kingdom, upon mortal man, as i have lavished them on thee! away, insolent and ungrateful, hence! thinkst thou to do murder, foul murder, in the presence of a woman, of a wife—a wife soon, wretch that she335 is, to be the mother of a child—of thy child, henry? hence, and i will forgive thee all—even this last offence! banish these murderous ruffians from my presence; spare an honest and a noble servant—one who hath never, never wronged thee or thine! spare him, and i will take thee yet again unto my heart, and love thee, as i have loved thee ever, even when thou hast been most cruel—ever, henry darnley, ever!”
the king was moved, his lips quivered, and he would have spoken: all might still have been explained, all might have been forgiven; but it was not so decreed.
“tush, we but dally,” cried the brutal ruthven, “we but dally! on, gentlemen, and drag the villain from the presence!”
foremost himself, he strode to seize the unarmed wretch, who, broken in spirits, and appalled more perhaps by the recollection of the wizard’s doom than by the sordid fear of death, clung to the robe of his adored mistress, poor wretch, as though the altar itself would have been to him a sanctuary against his ruthless murderers.
“mercy!” shrieked the miserable queen; “mercy, for the love of him that made you! mercy, henry—mercy, for my sake, or, if not for mine, mercy for thine unborn infant’s sake! ruthven—villain, false knight, uncourteous traitor—forego thy hold!” and she struggled madly with the assassins. “to arms!” she screamed in shriller tones, “to arms!—o god! o god! have i no guards, no friends, no husband? oh, that i had been born a man, and ye should rue this day—ay, and ye shall rue it!”
ruthven had clutched his victim with a grasp of iron, and, whirling him from his frail tenure, cast him to the attendant murderers. “spare him!” she shrieked once more; “spare him, and i will bless you! ay, strike!” she continued in calmer tones, as the ruffian ker brandished his naked dagger at her throat; “and thou, too, fire—fire upon thy mistress and thy336 queen!” maddened by her resistance, and fearful that the citizens might rise in her behalf, balantyne cocked his petronel. “fire, thou coward! why dost thou pause? i am a woman, true—a queen, a wife—about to be a mother; but what is that to such as thee? fire, and make your butchery complete!”
but, as the words passed from her lips, the bloody deed was over. even in the presence of the queen, dirk after dirk was plunged into the unresisting wretch. long after life was extinguished, the maddened assassins continued to mangle the senseless clay with their bloodthirsty weapons. so long as life remained, and so long as the horrid strife was doubtful, did mary’s fearful cries for mercy ring upon the ears of those who neither heard nor heeded her. the massacre was ended, and, with a degree of unmanly insensibility that would alone have stamped him the worst and fiercest of his race, ruthven seated himself before the outraged woman, the insulted queen, and calmly wiped his brow, still reeking with her favorite’s life-blood. “my sickness,” he said, “must pardon me for sitting in your presence. i had arisen from my bed to do this deed, and am now somewhat weary and o’erspent. i pray your highness command your minions to bear yon winecup hither.”
without regarding for an instant this fresh insult, she dried her streaming eyes. “we have demeaned ourselves to pray for mercy from butchers. tears are for men! i have one duty left me, and i will fulfil it—one aim to my existence, one study for my ingenuity, and one prayer to my god: my duty, mine aim, my study, and my prayer, shall be, to be avenged!”
