01-02-苏格兰玛丽女王Word文档下载推荐.docx

1、The road goes to London, the home of Queen Elizabeth of England. Mary sat with her little dog in her hands and watched it, all day long. No one came along the road. Nothing happened. I watched Mary, unhappily. Please, Your Majesty, come away from that window, I said. It doesnt help. No one is going

2、to come. Queen Elizabeth cant do itQueens dont kill Queens. Dont they, Bess? mary said. Then why are we here, in this prison? Why am I not free?Why, Your Majesty? Because Queen Elizabeth is afraid of you. Thats right, Shes afraid of me, and she hates me too. She hates me because I am beautiful, and

3、she is not, because I had three husbands, and she never married. And because many peoplegood Catholic people in England, France, Scotland, Spainsay that I, Mary, am the true Queen of England, not Elizabeth. And Elizabeth has no children, so, when she is dead, my son JamesShe came away from the windo

4、w and stood in front of me. James, she said quietly, my son. Does he think about me sometimes? He was only ten months old when I last saw him. It is nearly twenty yearsOf course he thinks about you, Your Majesty, You write to him often. How can he forget his mother?Then why doesnt he write to me?Mar

5、y asked. Does he want me to say here in an English prison?No, of course not, Your Majesty. Buthe has a lot of work, Your Majesty. He is the King of Scotland, andHe is not the King of Scotland, Bess, she said. Not before I am dead. Remember that. No, Your Majesty, of course not. But perhaps people te

6、ll him things that are untrue. You know what people say. Perhapsperhaps he thinks you killed his father. Marys face went white. She was very angry, and for a minute I was afraid. She said:You know thats a lie, Bess. It is a lie! I did not kill Jamess fatherI knew nothing about it!I know that, Your M

7、ajesty. But perhaps James doesnt know it. He hears so many lies, all the time. He needs to know the true story. Why dont you write, and tell him?Mary sat down slowly. She looked old and tired. All right, Bess, Give me a pen, please. Im going to write to James, and tell him the true story. You can gi

8、ve it to him when Im dead. Dead, Your Majesty? Dont say that. You arent going to die. Her old, tired eyes looked at me. Yes I am, Bess. You know what is going to happen. One day soon, a man is going to bring a letter from Queen Elizabeth. And then her men are going to kill me. But before I die, I wo

9、uld like to write to my son James. I want to tell him the story of my life. So give me a pen, please. I gave her a pen. This is what she wrote.2 FranceDear James. Very soon I am going to die, and meet my God. Before I die, I want to write the true story of my life for you. Everything that I write he

10、re is trueI cannot lie to you, or to God. Please believe that, James. Its important to me.My father died when I was one week old, so I was the Queen of Scots when I was a baby. At first I lived with my mother in Scotland, and then, when I was five, I went to France. My mother was French, but she sta

11、yed in Scotland, and died there. I went to France to marry the King of Frances son. His name was Francis, and he was one year younger than me. In 1559, his father died, so Francis was King. Then I was Queen of France, and Queen of Scotland too. I was very happy in France. Francis, my husband, was li

12、ke a little brother to me. I think he loved me, but he was very young, and he was often ill. And then, in 1560, he died. He was sixteen years old. When he died I was very unhappy, and my life was very different. There was a new King and Queen, and I wasnt important in France, any more. But I was sti

13、ll Queen of Scots, so I came back to Scotland. When I arrived in Scotland, I was a young girl of eighteen. My mother was dead, and there was no one there to meet me. I walked off the ship, and I slept in a little house near the sea. Next day, the Scots lords came from Edinburgh. They were pleased to

14、 see me, and for a week everyone was happy. People smiled at me and sang in the streets. I think everyone liked me. Then, that Sunday, I went to church. James, my son, you are a Protestant and I am a Catholic. You are a good man, and you love God, but your church and my church are enemies. I was born a Catholic, and I am going to die a Catholic. I love God, tooI hope you understand that. Im not going to change now. That Sunday, people shoute