Howard monologue (Act 2) — Queen Mary; and, Harold

Like our Council, Your city is divided. As we past, Some hail'd, some hiss'd us. There were citizens Stood each before his shut-up booth, and look'd As grim and grave as from a funeral. And here a knot of ruffians all in rags, With execrating execrable eyes, Glared at the citizen. Here was a young mother, Her face on flame, her red hair all blown back, She shrilling 'Wyatt,' while the boy she held Mimick'd and piped her 'Wyatt,' as red as she In hair and cheek; and almost elbowing her, So close they stood, another, mute as death, And white as her own milk; her babe in arms Had felt the faltering of his mother's heart, And look'd as bloodless. Here a pious Catholic, Mumbling and mixing up in his scared prayers Heaven and earth's Maries; over his bow'd shoulder Scowl'd that world-hated and world-hating beast, A haggard Anabaptist. Many such groups. The names of Wyatt, Elizabeth, Courtenay, Nay the Queen's right to reign--'fore God, the rogues-- Were freely buzzed among them. So I say Your city is divided, and I fear One scruple, this or that way, of success Would turn it thither. Wherefore now the Queen In this low pulse and palsy of the state, Bad me to tell you that she counts on you And on myself as her two hands; on you, In your own city, as her right, my Lord, For you are loyal.