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Chapter 1 Fotheringhay
第1章 福瑟临黑
My name is Bess Curle， but this is not my story. It is the story of my lady Mary， Queen of Scots.She wrote the story， and then she gave it to me. I am going to give it to her son.
我的名字叫贝斯·柯尔，但这不是我的故事。它是有关我的夫人玛丽苏格兰女王的故事。她写下了这个故事，便交给我。我将把它转交给她的儿子。
She began the story a week ago. It was January 1587， and we sat here in our cold room in Fotheringhay Castle， in the north of England. We couldn't see much from the window.One or two houses， a river， some trees， some horses， and a road. That's all.
她开始写这个故事是在一个星期以前。那是在1587年的1月，我们坐在英格兰北部福瑟临黑城堡中的一间寒冷的屋子里。透过窗户，我们看不到多少东西，一两幢房屋，一条河流，一些树木，几匹马和一条路，仅此而已。
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.
这条路通往伦敦——英格兰伊丽莎白女王的住宅。一整天玛丽都坐着，手里抱着她的小狗，两眼望着这条路。
No one came along the road. Nothing happened. I watched Mary， unhappily.
没有人从这条路上走来，什么也没有发生。我望着玛丽，心里很悲哀。
"Please， Your Majesty， come away from that window，"I said. "It doesn't help. No one is going to come. Queen Eliza－beth can't do it—Queens don't kill Queens."
“陛下，请您离开那扇窗户吧，”我说道。“那没有用。不会有人来的。伊丽莎白女王不能那样做——女王不杀女王的。”
"Don't they， Bess?"mary said."Then why are we here， in this prison?Why am I not free?"
“难道他们不会吗，贝斯？”玛丽说。“那我们为什么会在这里，坐在这个监狱里？为什么我不能自由？”
"Why， Your Majesty?Because Queen Elizabeth is afraid of you."
“您问为什么吗，陛下？那是因为伊丽莎白女王害怕您。”
"That's right，"mary said."She's afraid of me， and she hates me too. She hates me because I am beautiful， and she is not； because I had three husbands， and she never married.And because many people—good Catnolic people in England，France，Scotland，Spain—say that I， Mary， am the true Queen of England， not Elizabeth.And Elizabeth has no chil－dren， so， when she is dead， my son James…"
“对极了，”玛丽说。“她怕我，并且还恨我。她恨我是因为我漂亮，而她不漂亮；是因为我有三个丈夫，而她从没有结婚。还因为许多人——好心的英格兰、法国、苏格兰、西班牙的天主教教徒们说我玛丽才是英格兰真正的女王，而非伊丽莎白。伊丽莎白没有小孩，因此，她死后，我的儿子詹姆斯……。”
She came away from the window 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 years…"
她离开窗口走过来坐在我的面前。“詹姆士，”她平静地说，“我的儿子。有时他会想起我吗？我最后一次见到他时他才10个月。都快20年了……”
