SCENE FOUR — KNOX AND MARY
(Sudden lighting change, completely different mood as we go from intimacy in England to a parodic public parade in Scotland, as KNOX, in bowler hat and with umbrella, stands on back pedestal, marching. Two men, stamping, sway a big sheet like a blank banner behind him, swagger on the spot with exaggerated Orangemen’s gait. Music and hoochs and ugly skirls. KNOX is ranting)
KNOX: I, John Knox, do preach the evangel of Jesus Christ crucified, by repentance and faith. And justification by faith alone. Moved by my god and in humble obedience to him wha is abune us a’, I hae been commandit to blaw the first blast o’ the trumpet against the monstrous regiment o’ women, an abomination against nature and before God; and to disclose unto this my realm the vanity and iniquity of the papistical religion in all its pestilent manifestations in Sodom priesthooses and poxetten nunneries.
(Parade stops abruptly, lights change, white sheet is spread over pedestal, making it a table. Roll of bread is placed upon it. MARYand KNOX sit. Others, behind, listen and pray)
MARY: John Knox, mair nor three years, I hae borne wi’ you in a’ your rigorous manners o’ speakin’ oot, baith against masel’ and ma French uncles. And yit I hae socht your favour by a’ possible means.
KNOX: When it shall please God to deliver you frae that bondage of darkness and error into the one true religion your majesty shall find the liberty o’ my tongue as a soothing balm unto ye. For inside the preaching place, madam, I am not master of myself but the mere instrument of him who commands me to speak plain and flatter no flesh upon the face of the earth, nor wait on the courts o’ princes or the chaummers o’ ladies.
MARY: But what have ye to do with my marriage? What are ye in this commonwealth?
KNOX: A subject born within the same. Albeit I be neither earl, lord nor baron within it, but however low and abject I am in your eyes, it is ma duty no less to forewarn of what I foresee hurtin’ it than I were o’ the nobility. And gin the nobility should consent ye marry ony husband wha isna o’ the one true faith then they do as muckle as lies within their power to renounce Christ, to betray the freedom of the realm and in the end to do small comfort to yourself.
LA CORBIE: Corbie says by the bones of your beloved mother you must destroy this man.
Knox, nox as black as nicht, nox lik’ a’ the bitter pousons, nox lik’ three fearfu’ chaps at the door, did ding her doon. Knox did lead the rebels. Knox did break yer mither’s heart and Knox did laugh when she did dee. Hark at him — ‘The Guid Lord says, and I agree wi’ him!’ Hark. Cark Cark.
MARY: Maister Knox, I see in you yin wha is convincit he be moved by love of God, but is in truth fired raither by hatred o’ mankind.
LA CORBIE: Cark! Aye tell him!
KNOX: There is yin abune us a’ madam, wha is the best judge, the only.
MARY: You raised up a part of this nation — ma subjects — against ma mither, and against me, their prince, anointed by God. You hae written a treasonous treatise o’ a book against ma just authority. You have been the cause of great sedition and greater slaughter in England —
KNOX: By the richt worshipping of God men learn from their hearts to obey their just princes.
MARY: But ye think that I hae nae just authority?
KNOX: Your majesty, if this realm finds no inconveniency in the regiment o’ a woman, then that which they approve shall I not further disallow.
MARY: Except within your own heart and breast …?
KNOX: My heart is God’s. But I shall be as weill content to live under ye as Paul was tae live under Nero.
MARY: Sae ye will gie to Caesarina whit is Caesarina’s?
KNOX: I see madam kens her scriptures.
MARY: I ken ma scriptures. I hae baith heard and read. (Pause) Maister Knox, because I am by nature douce, and queyet, dinna think I hae nae convictions or beliefs locked in ma silent heart — though I dae not trumpet them abroad.
KNOX: Well, if I did blaw the first blast of the trumpet, madam, against the monstrous regiment o’ women — this blast was neither against your person or your regiment, but against that bloody Jezebel o’ England!
MARY: I am shair my guid cousin Elizabeth would be maist disconcertit to ken Maister Knox, wha doth profess the same faith as she, cried her a Jezebel!
KNOX: The Jezebel is Bloody Mary before her as weel you ken! Wha did practise murderous and several slaughter amang the hedgerows, till the vera weans o’ the serfs o’ the loyal lords wha did profess the true faith, did lie wi’ their guts a’ skailt oot amang the stubble o’ the field, while the air was stinkan’ and corruptit wi’ the thick smoke fae the fires o’ burning martyrs and ministers o’ the truth.
MARY: And you will bid my subjects obey me?
KNOX: Madam, I will.
MARY: Then they shall obey you and not me. Their lawful prince. Like I say, Maister Knox, I hae heard and read.
KNOX: So, madam, did the Jews wha crucified Christ Jesus read both the law and the prophets — and interpretit them as suitit themsel’s.
MARY: And do ye no interpret as suits you?
KNOX: I believe only what God plainly speaks in his word.
MARY: And yet the same words sound different to my ears!
KNOX: For instance: the Mass.
A god of bread! A god of breid, it is idolatory. Nay, I say that it is mair idolatory tae mak’ a god of breid than when the heathens in their daurkness made fause idols. Consider a god o’ wood or a god o’ stane — well a god o’ bread is mair miserable. This god will putrify in a single season. The rain or snow can mak’ saps o’ sicc a god. Ony durty maid in a scullery can mak’ a god tae rise in a warm an’ yeasty corner! Rats and mice will require nae better dinner than roon white gods enough! Show me in the Bible whaur Christ Jesus at his Last Supper did command the Mass? — I tell you nae mention is made ο sicc in a’ the scripture.
MARY: Ye are ower sair for me!
(She breaks down sobbing. KNOX is uncomfortable, genuinely. Stirring of certain pity, perhaps lust)
KNOX: Madam, in God’s presence I swear that I never delightit in the weeping of ony o’ God’s creatures. As I can scarcely staun’ the tears o’ my ain wife or ma ain young sons when ma ain haund is forcit to correct them, faur less can I rejoice in the greetin’ and howlin’ and bawlin’ o’ yir majesty.
(Gently he goes to touch her. She recoils)
But I hae tae thole your saut tears, rather than I betray my God or nation by my silence.
MARY: Yet will I in my realm and in ma heart silently defend the Kirk o’ Rome. And I will marry wha I please. Ye will grant to me guid tolerance — as I hae aye granted to you and your Reformit Kirk.
KNOX: Madam, I shall never be seduced by the Siren song o’ toleration. I fear you dinnae understaun this country ye are queen o’.
(KNOX is bowing out)
MARY: Nevertheless I will marry wha I please.
KNOX: I pray God grant you the wisdom of Deborah among the Israelites.
(Exit KNOX, taking his hat and umbrella again. MARY, shaking, is left alone on her knees praying with LA CORBIE looking with some sympathy on her)
LA CORBIE: Gin ye want to gag Maister Knox you will hae tae abolish the Mass and embrace his cauld kirk.
MARY: And is there nae comfort in his kerque?
LA CORBIE: Aye. Cauld comfort. But there are those wha say it a’ the better suits the climate.
MARY: And you think gin I sat on St Giles’s hard pews on a Sunday I’d sit surer oan ma ain throne a’ week lang?
LA CORBIE: Nae doot aboot that!
He has cowped the Queen o’ Heaven so how could he worry ’bout cowpin’ a mere earthly queen?
MARY: Then the Protestants dinnae love oor Blessed Virgin?
LA CORBIE: Knox has torn the Mother of God from oot the sky o’ Scotland and has trampit her celestial blue goon amang the muck and mire and has blotted oot every name by which ye praise her — Stella Maris, Star of the Sea, Holy Mother, Notre Dame, Oor Lady o’ Perpetual Succour.
MARY: But if he hae torn her frae the blue sky what has he left in her place?
LA CORBIE: A black hole, a jaggit gash, naethin’.
MARY: But how should I live without Our Lady?
LA CORBIE: Easy. You hae livit withoot yir earthly mother, sae ye can live without your heavenly yin.
MARY: I will marry wha I can love!
(Exit MARY)