No More Learning

'Tis out--mine flames. Women, the Holy Father
Has ta'en the legateship from our cousin Pole--
Was that well done? and poor Pole pines of it,
As I do, to the death. I am but a woman,
I have no power. --Ah, weak and meek old man,
Seven-fold dishonour'd even in the sight
Of thine own sectaries--No, no. No pardon!
Why that was false: there is the right hand still
Beckons me hence.
Sir, you were burnt for heresy, not for treason,
Remember that! 'twas I and Bonner did it,
And Pole; we are three to one--Have you found mercy there,
Grant it me here: and see, he smiles and goes,
Gentle as in life.

ALICE. Madam, who goes? King Philip?

MARY. No, Philip comes and goes, but never goes.
Women, when I am dead,
Open my heart, and there you will find written
Two names, Philip and Calais; open his,--
So that he have one,--
You will find Philip only, policy, policy,--
Ay, worse than that--not one hour true to me!
Foul maggots crawling in a fester'd vice!
Adulterous to the very heart of Hell.
Hast thou a knife?

ALICE. Ay, Madam, but o' God's mercy--

MARY. Fool, think'st thou I would peril mine own soul
By slaughter of the body? I could not, girl,
Not this way--callous with a constant stripe,
Unwoundable. The knife!

ALICE. Take heed, take heed!
The blade is keen as death.

MARY. This Philip shall not
Stare in upon me in my haggardness;
Old, miserable, diseased,
Incapable of children. Come thou down.
[_Cuts out the picture and throws it down_.
Lie there.