Mary.
 Oh thanks, thanks be to these friendly green trees
 That hide the stone walls of my prison from me!
 I shall dream that I am free and happy,
 Why should I be awakened from my sweet delusion?
 Am I not embraced by the wide canopy of heaven?
 My gazes, free and unfettered,
Are free to wander in immeasurable expanses.
 There, where the grey mountains of mist tower,
 Begin the borders of my kingdom,
 And these clouds that race toward the south,
 They seek France's distant ocean.
 Hastening clouds!  Sailors of the breezes!
 Ah, if one could wander with you, navigate with you!
 Convey my friendly greetings to the land of my youth!
 I am imprisoned, I am in chains,
 Ah, I have no other ambassador!
 Your path is free in the breezes,
 You are not subjugated to this queen.
 
Kennedy.
 Ah, dear Lady!  You are beside yourself,
 The freedom so long denied you is making you rave.
 
Mary.
 There a fisherman is mooring his boat!
 This wretched instrument could save me,
 It could quickly carry me to places where I have friends.
 It brings the miserable man only a meagre living.
 Richly would I heap treasures upon him,
 He would make a catch like never before,
 He would find good fortune in his nets
 If he took me with him in the boat of [my] rescue.
 
Kennedy.
 Vain wishes! Do you not see that the footfalls
 Of spied follow us from afar?
 A darkly merciless prohibition chases every
 Sympathetic creature from our path.
 
Mary.
 No, good Hannah!  Believe me, not for naught
 Has my prison’s door been opened.
 That small boon is a messenger of the greatest
 Good fortune for me.  I am not wrong.  It is
 The active hand of love to which I owe this [boon].
 I recognize the powerful hand of Lord Lester in it.
 Bit by bit they are planning to expand my prison,
 Through smaller things I shall become accustomed to greater,
 Until I finally see the face of him
 Who shall loosen my bonds forevermore.
 
Kennedy.
 Ah, I cannot make sense of this contradiction!
 Only yesterday they announced your execution,
 And today you are suddenly given such freedom.
 I have heard tell that the chain is loosened for those
 As well for whom eternal freedom waits.
 
Mary.
 Do you hear the bugle? Do you hear it sounding
 With a mighty call through field and grove?
 Ah, to be able to swing myself upon a courageous horse,
 To take my place in the joyful parade!
 Sound yet more, oh the familiar voice
 Full of bittersweet memory.
 Often my ear perceived it with joy
 Upon the highlands’ mountainous heaths,
 When the noise of the turbulent hunt was heard.