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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/2379.txt b/2379.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cffdac0 --- /dev/null +++ b/2379.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5116 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Chastelard, a Tragedy, by Algernon Charles Swinburne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Chastelard, a Tragedy + +Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne + +Posting Date: February 27, 2010 [EBook #2379] +Release Date: November, 2000 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHASTELARD, A TRAGEDY *** + + + + +Produced by Tony Adam + + + + + + + + +_Chastelard, a tragedy_. + +Algernon Charles Swinburne + + + +Boston: E.P. Dutton, 1866. + +(author's edition) + + + + PERSONS. + + MARY STUART. + MARY BEATON. + MARY SEYTON. + MARY CARMICHAEL. + MARY HAMILTON. + PIERRE DE BOSCOSEL DE CHASTELARD. + DARNLEY. + MURRAY. + RANDOLPH. + MORTON. + LINDSAY. + FATHER BLACK. + + Guards, Burgesses, a Preacher, Citizens, &c. + + + +Another Yle is there toward the Northe, in the See Occean, +where that ben fulle cruele and ful evele Wommen of Nature: +and thei han precious Stones in hire Eyen; and their ben of +that kynde, that zif they beholden ony man, thei slen him anon +with the beholdynge, as dothe the Basilisk. + +MAUNDEVILE'S Voiage and Travaile, Ch. xxviii. + + + + + I DEDICATE THIS PLAY, + AS A PARTIAL EXPRESSION OF REVERENCE + AND GRATITUDE, + TO THE CHIEF OF LIVING POETS; + TO THE FIRST DRAMATIST OF HIS AGE; + TO THE GREATEST EXILE, AND THEREFORE + TO THE GREATEST MAN OF FRANCE; + TO + VICTOR HUGO. + + + + +ACT I. + +MARY BEATON. + + + +SCENE I.--The Upper Chamber in Holyrood. + +The four MARIES. + + + + MARY BEATON (sings):-- + + 1. + Le navire + Est a l'eau; + Entends rire + Ce gros flot + Que fait luire + Et bruire + Le vieux sire + Aquilo. + + 2. + Dans l'espace + Du grand air + Le vent passe + Comme un fer; + Siffle et sonne, + Tombe et tonne, + Prend et donne + A la mer. + + + 3. + Vois, la brise + Tourne au nord, + Et la bise + Souffle et mord + Sur ta pure + Chevelure + Qui murmure + Et se tord. + +MARY HAMILTON. + You never sing now but it makes you sad; + Why do you sing? + +MARY BEATON. + I hardly know well why; + It makes me sad to sing, and very sad + To hold my peace. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + I know what saddens you. + +MARY BEATON. + Prithee, what? what? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Why, since we came from France, + You have no lover to make stuff for songs. + +MARY BEATON. + You are wise; for there my pain begins indeed, + Because I have no lovers out of France. + +MARY SEYTON. + I mind me of one Olivier de Pesme, + (You knew him, sweet,) a pale man with short hair, + Wore tied at sleeve the Beaton color. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Blue-- + I know, blue scarfs. I never liked that knight. + +MARY HAMILTON. + Me? I know him? I hardly knew his name. + Black, was his hair? no, brown. + +MARY SEYTON. + Light pleases you: + I have seen the time brown served you well enough. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Lord Darnley's is a mere maid's yellow. + +MARY HAMILTON. + No, + A man's, good color. + +MARY SEYTON. + Ah, does that burn your blood? + Why, what a bitter color is this read + That fills your face! if you be not in love, + I am no maiden. + +MARY HAMILTON. + Nay, God help true hearts! + I must be stabbed with love then, to the bone, + Yea to the spirit, past cure. + +MARY SEYTON. + What were you saying? + I see some jest run up and down your lips. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Finish your song; I know you have more of it; + Good sweet, I pray you do. + +MARY BEATON. + I am too sad. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + This will not sadden you to sing; your song + Tastes sharp of sea and the sea's bitterness, + But small pain sticks on it. + +MARY BEATON. + Nay, it is sad; + For either sorrow with the beaten lips + Sings not at all, or if it does get breath + Sings quick and sharp like a hard sort of mirth: + And so this song does; or I would it did, + That it might please me better than it does. + +MARY SEYTON. + Well, as you choose then. What a sort of men + Crowd all about the squares! + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Ay, hateful men; + For look how many talking mouths be there, + So many angers show their teeth at us. + Which one is that, stooped somewhat in the neck, + That walks so with his chin against the wind, + Lips sideways shut? a keen-faced man--lo there, + He that walks midmost. + +MARY SEYTON. + That is Master Knox. + He carries all these folk within his skin, + Bound up as 't were between the brows of him + Like a bad thought; their hearts beat inside his; + They gather at his lips like flies in the sun, + Thrust sides to catch his face. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Look forth; so--push + The window--further--see you anything? + +MARY HAMILTON. + They are well gone; but pull the lattice in, + The wind is like a blade aslant. Would God + I could get back one day I think upon: + The day we four and some six after us + Sat in that Louvre garden and plucked fruits + To cast love-lots with in the gathered grapes; + This way: you shut your eyes and reach and pluck, + And catch a lover for each grape you get. + I got but one, a green one, and it broke + Between my fingers and it ran down through them. + +MARY SEYTON. + Ay, and the queen fell in a little wrath + Because she got so many, and tore off + Some of them she had plucked unwittingly-- + She said, against her will. What fell to you? + +MARY BEATON. + Me? nothing but the stalk of a stripped bunch + With clammy grape-juice leavings at the tip. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Ay, true, the queen came first and she won all; + It was her bunch we took to cheat you with. + What, will you weep for that now? for you seem + As one that means to weep. God pardon me! + I think your throat is choking up with tears. + You are not well, sweet, for a lying jest + To shake you thus much. + +MARY BEATON. + I am well enough: + Give not your pity trouble for my sake. + +MARY SEYTON. + If you be well sing out your song and laugh, + Though it were but to fret the fellows there.-- + Now shall we catch her secret washed and wet + In the middle of her song; for she must weep + If she sing through. + +MARY HAMILTON. + I told you it was love; + I watched her eyes all through the masquing time + Feed on his face by morsels; she must weep. + +MARY BEATON. + + 4. + Le navire + Passe et luit, + Puis chavire + A grand bruit; + Et sur l'onde + La plus blonde + Tete au monde + Flotte et fuit. + + 5. + Moi, je rame, + Et l'amour, + C'est ma flamme, + Mon grand jour, + Ma chandelle + Blanche et belle, + Ma chapelle + + De sejour. + + 6. + Toi, mon ame + Et ma foi, + Sois, ma dame; + Et ma loi; + Sois ma mie, + Sois Marie, + Sois ma vie, + Toute a moi! + +MARY SEYTON. + I know the song; a song of Chastelard's, + He made in coming over with the queen. + How hard it rained! he played that over twice + Sitting before her, singing each word soft, + As if he loved the least she listened to. + +MARY HAMILTON. + No marvel if he loved it for her sake; + She is the choice of women in the world; + Is she not, sweet? + +MARY BEATON. + I have seen no fairer one. + +MARY SEYTON. + And the most loving: did you note last night + How long she held him with her hands and eyes, + Looking a little sadly, and at last + Kissed him below the chin and parted so + As the dance ended? + +MARY HAMILTON. + This was courtesy; + So might I kiss my singing-bird's red bill + After some song, till he bit short my lip. + +MARY SEYTON. + But if a lady hold her bird anights + To sing to her between her fingers-ha? + I have seen such birds. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + O, you talk emptily; + She is full of grace; and marriage in good time + Will wash the fool called scandal off men's lips. + +MARY HAMILTON. + I know not that; I know how folk would gibe + If one of us pushed courtesy so far. + She has always loved love's fashions well; you wot, + The marshal, head friend of this Chastelard's, + She used to talk with ere he brought her here + And sow their talk with little kisses thick + As roses in rose-harvest. For myself, + I cannot see which side of her that lurks, + Which snares in such wise all the sense of men; + What special beauty, subtle as man's eye + And tender as the inside of the eyelid is, + There grows about her. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + I think her cunning speech-- + The soft and rapid shudder of her breath + In talking--the rare tender little laugh-- + The pitiful sweet sound like a bird's sigh + When her voice breaks; her talking does it all. + +MARY SEYTON. + I say, her eyes with those clear perfect brows: + It is the playing of those eyelashes, + The lure of amorous looks as sad as love, + Plucks all souls toward her like a net. + +MARY HAMILTON. + What, what! + You praise her in too lover-like a wise + For women that praise women; such report + Is like robes worn the rough side next the skin, + Frets where it warms. + +MARY SEYTON. + You think too much in French. + +Enter DARNLEY. + + Here comes your thorn; what glove against it now? + +MARY HAMILTON. + O, God's good pity! this a thorn of mine? + It has not run deep in yet. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + I am not sure: + The red runs over to your face's edge. + +DARNLEY. + Give me one word; nay, lady, for love's sake; + Here, come this way; I will not keep you; no. + --O my sweet soul, why do you wrong me thus? + +MARY HAMILTON. + Why will you give me for men's eyes to burn? + +DARNLEY. + What, sweet, I love you as mine own soul loves me; + They shall divide when we do. + +MARY HAMILTON. + I cannot say. + +DARNLEY. + Why, look you, I am broken with the queen; + This is the rancor and the bitter heart + That grows in you; by God it is nought else. + Why, this last night she held me for a fool-- + Ay, God wot, for a thing of stripe and bell. + I bade her make me marshal in her masque-- + I had the dress here painted, gold and gray + (That is, not gray but a blue-green like this)-- + She tells me she had chosen her marshal, she, + The best o' the world for cunning and sweet wit; + And what sweet fool but her sweet knight, God help! + To serve her with that three-inch wit of his? + She is all fool and fiddling now; for me, + I am well-pleased; God knows, if I might choose + I would not be more troubled with her love. + Her love is like a briar that rasps the flesh, + And yours is soft like flowers. Come this way, love; + So, further in this window; hark you here. + +Enter CHASTELARD. + +MARY BEATON. + Good morrow, sir. + +CHASTELARD. + Good morrow, noble lady. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + You have heard no news? what news? + +CHASTELARD. + Nay, I have none. + That maiden-tongued male-faced Elizabeth + Hath eyes unlike our queen's, hair not so soft, + And lips no kiss of love's could bring to flower + In such red wise as our queen's; save this news, + I know none English. + +MARY SEYTON. + Come, no news of her; + For God's love talk still rather of our queen. + +MARY BEATON. + God give us grace then to speak well of her. + You did right joyfully in our masque last night' + I saw you when the queen lost breath (her head + Bent back, her chin and lips catching the air-- + A goodly thing to see her) how you smiled + Across her head, between your lips-no doubt + You had great joy, sir. Did you not take note + Once how one lock fell? that was good to see. + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, good enough to live for. + +MARY BEATON. + Nay, but sweet + Enough to die. When she broke off the dance, + Turning round short and soft-I never saw + Such supple ways of walking as she has. + +CHASTLELARD. + Why do you praise her gracious looks to me? + +MARY BEATON. + Sir, for mere sport: but tell me even for love + How much you love her. + +CHASTELARD. + I know not: it may be + If I had set mine eyes to find that out, + I should not know it. She hath fair eyes: may be + I love her for sweet eyes or brows or hair, + For the smooth temples, where God touching her + Made blue with sweeter veins the flower-sweet white + Or for the tender turning of her wrist, + Or marriage of the eyelid with the cheek; + I cannot tell; or flush of lifting throat, + I know not if the color get a name + This side of heaven-no man knows; or her mouth, + A flower's lip with a snake's lip, stinging sweet, + And sweet to sting with: face that one would see + And then fall blind and die with sight of it + Held fast between the eyelids-oh, all these + And all her body and the soul to that, + The speech and shape and hand and foot and heart + That I would die of-yea, her name that turns + My face to fire being written-I know no whit + How much I love them. + +MARY BEATON. + Nor how she loves you back? + +CHASTELARD. + I know her ways of loving, all of them: + A sweet soft way the first is; afterward + It burns and bites like fire; the end of that, + Charred dust, and eyelids bitten through with smoke. + +MARY BEATON. + What has she done for you to gird at her? + +CHASTELARD. + Nothing. You do not greatly love her, you, + Who do not-gird, you call it. I am bound to France; + Shall I take word from you to any one? + So it be harmless, not a gird, I will. + +MARY BEATON. + I doubt you will not go hence with your life. + +CHASTELARD. + Why, who should slay me? No man northwards born, + In my poor mind; my sword's lip is no maid's + To fear the iron biting of their own, + Though they kiss hard for hate's sake. + +MARY BEATON. + Lo you, sir, + How sharp he whispers, what close breath and eyes-- + And here are fast upon him, do you see? + +CHASTELARD. + Well, which of these must take my life in hand? + Pray God it be the better: nay, which hand? + +MARY BEATON. + I think, none such. The man is goodly made; + She is tender-hearted toward his courtesies, + And would not have them fall too low to find. + Look, they slip forth. + +[Exeunt DARNLEY and MARY HAMILTON.] + +MARY SEYTON. + For love's sake, after them, + And soft as love can. + +[Exeunt MARY CARMICHAEL and MARY SEYTON.] + +CHASTELARD. + True, a goodly man. + What shapeliness and state he hath, what eyes, + Brave brow and lordly lip! Were it not fit + Great queens should love him? + +MARY BEATON. + See how now, fair lord, + I have but scant breath's time to help myself, + And I must cast my heart out on a chance; + So bear with me. That we twain have loved well, + I have no heart nor wit to say; God wot + We had never made good lovers, you and I. + Look you, I would not have you love me, sir, + For all the love's sake in the world. I say, + You love the queen, and loving burns you up, + And mars the grace and joyous wit you had, + Turning your speech to sad, your face to strange, + Your mirth to nothing: and I am piteous, I, + Even as the queen is, and such women are; + And if I helped you to your love-longing, + Meseems some grain of love might fall my way + And love's god help me when I came to love; + I have read tales of men that won their loves + On some such wise. + +CHASTELARD. + If you mean mercifully, + I am bound to you past thought and thank; if worse + I will but thank your lips and not your heart. + +MARY BEATON. + Nay, let love wait and praise me, in God's name, + Some day when he shall find me; yet, God wot, + My lips are of one color with my heart. + Withdraw now from me, and about midnight + In some close chamber without light or noise + It may be I shall get you speech of her: + She loves you well: it may be she will speak, + I wot not what; she loves you at her heart. + Let her not see that I have given you word, + Lest she take shame and hate her love. Till night + Let her not see it. + +CHASTLELARD. + I will not thank you now, + And then I'll die what sort of death you will. + Farewell. + +[Exit.] + +MARY BEATON. + And by God's mercy and my love's + I will find ways to earn such thank of you. + +[Exit.] + + + + +ACT I. SCENE II. A Hall in the same. + + +The QUEEN, DARNLEY, MURRAY, RANDOLPH, the MARIES, CHASTELARD, &c. + + +QUEEN. + Hath no man seen my lord of Chastelard? + Nay, no great matter. Keep you on that side: + Begin the purpose. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Madam, he is here. + +QUEEN. + Begin a measure now that other side. + I will not dance; let them play soft a little. + Fair sir, we had a dance to tread to-night, + To teach our north folk all sweet ways of France, + But at this time we have no heart to it. + Sit, sir, and talk. Look, this breast-clasp is new, + The French king sent it me. + +CHASTELARD. + A goodly thing: + But what device? the word is ill to catch. + +QUEEN. + A Venus crowned, that eats the hearts of men: + Below her flies a love with a bat's wings, + And strings the hair of paramours to bind + Live birds' feet with. Lo what small subtle work: + The smith's name, Gian Grisostomo da--what? + Can you read that? The sea froths underfoot; + She stands upon the sea and it curls up + In soft loose curls that run to one in the wind. + But her hair is not shaken, there 's a fault; + It lies straight down in close-cut points and tongues, + Not like blown hair. The legend is writ small: + Still one makes out this--*Cave*--if you look. + +CHASTELARD. + I see the Venus well enough, God wot, + But nothing of the legend. + +QUEEN. + Come, fair lord, + Shall we dance now? My heart is good again. + +[They dance a measure.] + +DARNLEY. + I do not like this manner of a dance, + This game of two by two; it were much better + To meet between the changes and to mix + Than still to keep apart and whispering + Each lady out of earshot with her friend. + +MARY BEATON. + That 's as the lady serves her knight, I think: + We are broken up too much. + +DARNLEY. + Nay, no such thing; + Be not wroth, lady, I wot it was the queen + Pricked each his friend out. Look you now--your ear-- + If love had gone by choosing--how they laugh, + Lean lips together, and wring hands underhand! + What, you look white too, sick of heart, ashamed, + No marvel--for men call it--hark you though-- + +[They pass.] + +MURRAY. + Was the queen found no merrier in France? + +MARY HAMILTON. + Why, have you seen her sorrowful to-night? + +MURRAY. + I say not so much; blithe she seems at whiles, + Gentle and goodly doubtless in all ways, + But hardly with such lightness and quick heart + As it was said. + +MARY HAMILTON. + 'Tis your great care of her + Makes you misdoubt; nought else. + +MURRAY. + Yea, may be so; + She has no cause I know to sadden her. + +[They pass.] + +QUEEN. + I am tired too soon; I could have danced down hours + Two years gone hence and felt no wearier. + One grows much older northwards, my fair lord; + I wonder men die south; meseems all France + Smells sweet with living, and bright breath of days + That keep men far from dying. Peace; pray you now, + No dancing more. Sing, sweet, and make us mirth; + We have done with dancing measures: sing that song + You call the song of love at ebb. + +MARY BEATON. + +[Sings.] + + 1. + Between the sunset and the sea + My love laid hands and lips on me; + Of sweet came sour, of day came night, + Of long desire came brief delight: + Ah love, and what thing came of thee + Between the sea-downs and the sea? + + 2. + Between the sea-mark and the sea + Joy grew to grief, grief grew to me; + Love turned to tears, and tears to fire, + And dead delight to new desire; + Love's talk, love's touch there seemed to be + Between the sea-sand and the sea. + + 3. + Between the sundown and the sea + Love watched one hour of love with me; + Then down the all-golden water-ways + His feet flew after yesterday's; + I saw them come and saw them flee + Between the sea-foam and the sea. + + 4. + Between the sea-strand and the sea + Love fell on sleep, sleep fell on me; + The first star saw twain turn to one + Between the moonrise and the sun; + The next, that saw not love, saw me + Between the sea-banks and the sea. + +QUEEN. + Lo, sirs, + What mirth is here! Some song of yours, fair lord; + You know glad ways of rhyming--no such tunes + As go to tears. + +CHASTELARD. + I made this yesterday; + For its love's sake I pray you let it live. + + 1. + Apres tant de jours, apres tant de pleurs, + Soyez secourable a mon ame en peine. + Voyez comme Avril fait l'amour aux fleurs; + Dame d'amour, dame aux belles couleurs, + Dieu vous a fait belle, Amour vous fait reine. + + 2. + Rions, je t'en prie; aimons, je le veux. + Le temps fuit et rit et ne revient guere + Pour baiser le bout de tes blonds cheveux, + Pour baiser tes cils, ta bouche et tes yeux; + L'amour n'a qu'un jour aupres de sa mere. + +QUEEN. + 'T is a true song; love shall not pluck time back + Nor time lie down with love. For me, I am old; + Have you no hair changed since you changed to Scot? + I look each day to see my face drawn up + About the eyes, as if they sucked the cheeks. + I think this air and face of things here north + Puts snow at flower-time in the blood, and tears + Between the sad eyes and the merry mouth + In their youth-days. + +CHASTELARD. + It is a bitter air. + +QUEEN. + Faith, if I might be gone, sir, would I stay? + I think, for no man's love's sake. + +CHASTELARD. + I think not. + +QUEEN. + Do you yet mind at landing how the quay + Looked like a blind wet face in waste of wind + And washing of wan waves? how the hard mist + Made the hills ache? your songs lied loud, my knight, + They said my face would burn off cloud and rain + Seen once, and fill the crannied land with fire, + Kindle the capes in their blind black-gray hoods-- + I know not what. You praise me past all loves; + And these men love me little; 't is some fault, + I think, to love me: even a fool's sweet fault. + I have your verse still beating in my head + Of how the swallow got a wing broken + In the spring time, and lay upon his side + Watching the rest fly off i' the red leaf-time, + And broke his heart with grieving at himself + Before the snow came. Do you know that lord + With sharp-set eyes? and him with huge thewed throat? + Good friends to me; I had need love them well. + Why do you look one way? I will not have you + Keep your eyes here: 't is no great wit in me + To care much now for old French friends of mine.-- + Come, a fresh measure; come, play well for me, + Fair sirs, your playing puts life in foot and heart.-- + +DARNLEY. + Lo you again, sirs, how she laughs and leans, + Holding him fast--the supple way she hath! + Your queen hath none such; better as she is + For all her measures, a grave English maid, + Than queen of snakes and Scots. + +RANDOLPH. + She is over fair + To be so sweet and hurt not. A good knight; + Goodly to look on. + +MURRAY. + Yea, a good sword too, + And of good kin; too light of loving though; + These jangling song-smiths are keen love-mongers, + They snap at all meats. + +DARNLEY. + What! by God I think, + For all his soft French face and bright boy's sword, + There be folks fairer: and for knightliness, + These hot-lipped brawls of Paris breed sweet knights-- + Mere stabbers for a laugh across the wine.-- + +QUEEN. + There, I have danced you down for once, fair lord; + You look pale now. Nay then for courtesy + I must needs help you; do not bow your head, + I am tall enough to reach close under it. + +[Kisses him.] + + Now come, we'll sit and see this passage through.-- + +DARNLEY. + A courtesy, God help us! courtesy-- + Pray God it wound not where it should heal wounds. + Why, there was here last year some lord of France + (Priest on the wrong side as some folk are prince) + Told tales of Paris ladies--nay, by God, + No jest for queen's lips to catch laughter of + That would keep clean; I wot he made good mirth, + But she laughed over sweetly, and in such wise-- + But she laughed over sweetly, and in such wise-- + Nay, I laughed too, but lothly.-- + +QUEEN. + How they look! + The least thing courteous galls them to the bone. + What would one say now I were thinking of? + +CHASTELARD. + It seems, some sweet thing. + +QUEEN. + True, a sweet one, sir-- + That madrigal you made Alys de Saulx + Of the three ways of love: the first kiss honor, + The second pity, and the last kiss love. + Which think you now was that I kissed you with? + +CHASTELARD. + It should be pity, if you be pitiful; + For I am past all honoring that keep + Outside the eye of battle, where my kin + Fallen overseas have found this many a day + No helm of mine between them; and for love, + I think of that as dead men of good days + Ere the wrong side of death was theirs, when God + Was friends with them. + +QUEEN. + Good; call it pity then. + You have a subtle riddling skill at love + Which is not like a lover. For my part, + I am resolved to be well done with love, + Though I were fairer-faced than all the world; + As there be fairer. Think you, fair my knight, + Love shall live after life in any man? + I have given you stuff for riddles. + +CHASTELARD. + Most sweet queen, + They say men dying remember, with sharp joy + And rapid reluctation of desire, + Some old thin, some swift breath of wind, some word, + Some sword-stroke or dead lute-strain, some lost sight, + Some sea-blossom stripped to the sun and burned + At naked ebb--some river-flower that breathes + Against the stream like a swooned swimmer's mouth-- + Some tear or laugh ere lip and eye were man's-- + Sweet stings that struck the blood in riding--nay, + Some garment or sky-color or spice-smell, + And die with heart and face shut fast on it, + And know not why, and weep not; it may be + Men shall hold love fast always in such wise + In new fair lives where all are new things else, + And know not why, and weep not. + +QUEEN. + A right rhyme, + And right a thyme's worth: nay, a sweet song, though. + What, shall my cousin hold fast that love of his, + Her face and talk, when life ends? as God grant + His life end late and sweet; I love him well. + She is fair enough, his lover; a fair-faced maid, + With gray sweet eyes and tender touch of talk; + And that, God wot, I wist not. See you, sir, + Men say I needs must get wed hastily; + Do none point lips at him? + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, guessingly. + +QUEEN. + God help such lips! and get me leave to laugh! + What should I do but paint and put him up + Like a gilt god, a saintship in a shrine, + For all fools' feast? God's mercy on men's wits! + Tall as a housetop and as bare of brain-- + I'll have no staffs with fool-faced carven heads + To hang my life on. Nay, for love, no more, + For fear I laugh and set their eyes on edge + To find out why I laugh. Good-night, fair lords; + Bid them cease playing. Give me your hand; good-night. + + + +SCENE III.--MARY BEATON'S chamber: night. + +[Enter CHASTELARD.] + +CHASTELARD. + I am not certain yet she will not come; + For I can feel her hand's heat still in mine, + Past doubting of, and see her brows half draw, + And half a light in the eyes. If she come not, + I am no worse than he that dies to-night. + This two years' patience gets an end at least, + Whichever way I am well done with it. + How hard the thin sweet moon is, split and laced + And latticed over, just a stray of it + Catching and clinging at a strip of wall, + Hardly a hand's breadth. Did she turn indeed + In going out? not to catch up her gown + The page let slip, but to keep sight of me? + There was a soft small stir beneath her eyes + Hard to put on, a quivering of her blood + That knew of the old nights watched out wakefully. + Those measures of her dancing too were changed-- + More swift and with more eager stops at whiles + And rapid pauses where breath failed her lips. + +[Enter MARY BEATON.] + + O, she is come: if you be she indeed + Let me but hold your hand; what, no word yet? + You turn and kiss me without word; O sweet, + If you will slay me be not over quick, + Kill me with some slow heavy kiss that plucks + The heart out at the lips. Alas! Sweet love, + Give me some old sweet word to kiss away. + Is it a jest? for I can feel your hair + Touch me--I may embrace your body too? + I know you well enough without sweet words. + How should one make you speak? This is not she. + Come in the light; nay, let me see your eyes. + Ah, you it is? what have I done to you? + And do you look now to be slain for this + That you twist back and shudder like one stabbed? + +MARY BEATON. + Yea, kill me now and do not look at me: + God knows I meant to die. Sir, for God's love, + Kill me now quick ere I go mad with shame. + +CHASTELARD. + Cling not upon my wrists: let go the hilt: + Nay, you will bruise your hand with it: stand up: + You shall not have my sword forth. + +MARY BEATON. + Kill me now, + I will not rise: there, I am patient, see, + I will not strive, but kill me for God's sake. + +CHASTELARD. + Pray you rise up and be not shaken so: + Forgive me my rash words, my heart was gone + After the thing you were: be not ashamed; + Give me the shame, you have no part in it; + Can I not say a word shall do you good? + Forgive that too. + +MARY BEATON. + I shall run crazed with shame; + But when I felt your lips catch hold on mine + It stopped my breath: I would have told you all; + Let me go out: you see I lied to you, + Am I am shamed; I pray you loose me, sir, + Let me go out. + +CHASTELARD. + Think no base things of me: + I were most base to let you go ashamed. + Think my heart's love and honor go with you: + Yea, while I live, for your love's noble sake, + I am your servant in what wise may be, + To love and serve you with right thankful heart. + +MARY BEATON. + I have given men leave to mock me, and must bear + What shame they please: you have good cause to mock. + Let me pass now. + +CHASTELARD. + You know I mock you not. + If ever I leave off to honor you, + God give me shame! I were the worst churl born. + +MARY BEATON. + No marvel though the queen should love you too, + Being such a knight. I pray you for her love, + Lord Chastelard, of your great courtesy, + Think now no scorn to give me my last kiss + That I shall have of man before I die. + Even the same lips you kissed and knew not of + Will you kiss now, knowing the shame of them, + And say no one word to me afterwards, + That I may see I have loved the best lover + And man most courteous of all men alive? + +MARY SEYTON. + +[Within.] + + Here, fetch the light: nay, this way; enter all. + +MARY BEATON. + I am twice undone. Fly, get some hiding, sir; + They have spied upon me somehow. + +CHASTELARD. + Nay, fear not; + Stand by my side. + +[Enter MARY SEYTON and MARY HAMILTON.] + +MARY HAMILTON. + Give me that light: this way. + +CHASTELARD. + What jest is here, fair ladies? it walks late, + Something too late for laughing. + +MARY SEYTON. + Nay, fair sir, + What jest is this of yours? Look to your lady: + She is nigh swooned. The queen shall know all this. + +MARY HAMILTON. + A grievous shame it is we are fallen upon; + Hold forth the light. Is this your care of us? + Nay, come, look up: this is no game, God wot. + +CHASTELARD. + Shame shall befall them that speak shamefully: + I swear this lady is as pure and good + As any maiden, and who believes me not + Shall keep the shame for his part and the lie. + To them that come in honor and not in hate + I will make answer. Lady, have good heart. + Give me the light there: I will see you forth. + + END OF THE FIRST ACT. + + + +ACT II. + +DARNLEY. + + + +SCENE I.--The great Chamber in Holyrood. + +The QUEEN and MARY SEYTON. + + +QUEEN. + But will you swear it? + +MARY SEYTON. + Swear it, madam? + +QUEEN. + Ay-- + Swear it. + +MARY SEYTON. + Madam, I am not friends with them. + +QUEEN. + Swear then against them if you are not friends. + +MARY SEYTON. + Indeed I saw them kiss. + +QUEEN. + So lovers use-- + What, their mouths close? a goodly way of love! + Or but the hands? or on her throat? Prithee-- + You have sworn that. + +MARY SEYTON. + I say what I saw done. + +QUEEN. + Ay, you did see her cheeks (God smite them red!) + Kissed either side? what, they must eat strange food + Those singing lips of his? + +MARY SEYTON. + Sweet meat enough-- + They started at my coming five yards off, + But there they were. + +QUEEN. + A maid may have kissed cheeks + And no shame in them--yet one would not swear. + You have sworn that. Pray God he be not mad: + A sickness in his eyes. The left side love + (I was told that) and the right courtesy. + 'T is good fools' fashion. What, no more but this? + For me, God knows I am no whit wroth; not I; + But, for your fame's sake that her shame will sting, + I cannot see a way to pardon her-- + For your fame's sake, lest that be prated of. + +MARY SEYTON. + Nay, if she were not chaste--I have not said + She was not chaste. + +QUEEN. + I know you are tender of her; + And your sweet word will hardly turn her sweet. + +MARY SEYTON. + Indeed I would fain do her any good. + Shall I not take some gracious word to her? + +QUEEN. + Bid her not come or wait on me to-day. + +MARY SEYTON. + Will you see him? + +QUEEN. + See--O, this Chastelard? + He doth not well to sing maids into shame; + And folk are sharp here; yet for sweet friends' sake + Assuredly I 'll see him. I am not wroth. + A goodly man, and a good sword thereto-- + It may be he shall wed her. I am not wroth. + +MARY SEYTON. + Nay, though she bore with him, she hath no great love, + I doubt me, that way. + +QUEEN. + God mend all, I pray-- + And keep us from all wrongdoing and wild words. + I think there is no fault men fall upon + But I could pardon. Look you, I would swear + She were no paramour for any man, + So well I love her. + +MARY SEYTON. + Am I to bid him in? + +QUEEN. + As you will, sweet. But if you held me hard + You did me grievous wrong. Doth he wait there? + Men call me over tender; I had rather so, + Than too ungracious. Father, what with you? + +[Enter FATHER BLACK.] + + FATHER BLACK. + God's peace and health of soul be with the queen! + And pardon be with me though I speak truth. + As I was going on peaceable men's wise + Through your good town, desiring no man harm, + A kind of shameful woman with thief's lips + Spake somewhat to me over a thrust-out chin, + Soliciting as I deemed an alms; which alms + (Remembering what was writ of Magdalen) + I gave no grudging but with pure good heart, + When lo some scurril children that lurked near, + Set there by Satan for my stumbling-stone, + Fell hooting with necks thwart and eyes asquint, + Screeched and made horns and shot out tongues at me, + As at my Lord the Jews shot out their tongues + And made their heads wag; I considering this + Took up my cross in patience and passed forth: + Nevertheless one ran between my feet + And made me totter, using speech and signs + I smart with shame to think of: then my blood + Kindled, and I was moved to smite the knave, + And the knave howled; whereat the lewd whole herd + Brake forth upon me and cast mire and stones + So that I ran sore risk of bruise or gash + If they had touched; likewise I heard men say, + (Their foul speech missed not mine ear) they cried, + "This devil's mass-priest hankers for new flesh + Like a dry hound; let him seek such at home, + Snuff and smoke out the queen's French--" + +QUEEN. + They said that? + +FATHER BLACK. + "--French paramours that breed more shames than sons + All her court through;" forgive me. + +QUEEN. + With my heart. + Father, you see the hatefulness of these-- + They loathe us for our love. I am not moved: + What should I do being angry? By this hand + (Which is not big enough to bruise their lips), + I marvel what thing should be done with me + To make me wroth. We must have patience with us + When we seek thank of men. + +FATHER BLACK. + Madam, farewell; + I pray God keep you in such patient heart. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. + Let him come now. + +MARY SEYTON. + Madam, he is at hand. + +[Exit.] + +[Enter CHASTELARD.] + +QUEEN. + Give me that broidery frame; how, gone so soon? + No maid about? Reach me some skein of silk. + What, are you come, fair lord? Now by my life + That lives here idle, I am right glad of you; + I have slept so well and sweet since yesternight + It seems our dancing put me in glad heart. + Did you sleep well? + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, as a man may sleep. + +QUEEN. + You smile as if I jested; do not men + Sleep as we do? Had you fair dreams in the night? + For me--but I should fret you with my dreams-- + I dreamed sweet things. You are good at soothsaying: + Make me a sonnet of my dream. + +CHASTELARD. + I will, + When I shall know it. + +QUEEN. + I thought I was asleep + In Paris, lying by my lord, and knew + In somewise he was well awake, and yet + I could not wake too; and I seemed to know + He hated me, and the least breath I made + Would turn somehow to slay or stifle me. + Then in brief time he rose and went away, + Saying, Let her dream, but when her dream is out + I will come back and kill her as she wakes. + And I lay sick and trembling with sore fear, + And still I knew that I was deep asleep; + And thinking I must dream now, or I die, + God send me some good dream lest I be slain, + Fell fancying one had bound my feet with cords + And bade me dance, and the first measure made + I fell upon my face and wept for pain: + And my cords broke, and I began the dance + To a bitter tune; and he that danced with me + Was clothed in black with long red lines and bars + And masked down to the lips, but by the chin + I knew you though your lips were sewn up close + With scarlet thread all dabbled wet in blood. + And then I knew the dream was not for good. + And striving with sore travail to reach up + And kiss you (you were taller in my dream) + I missed your lips and woke. + +CHASTELARD. + Sweet dreams, you said? + An evil dream I hold it for, sweet love. + +QUEEN. + You call love sweet; yea, what is bitter, then? + There's nothing broken sleep could hit upon + So bitter as the breaking down of love. + You call me sweet; I am not sweet to you, + Nor you-O, I would say not sweet to me, + And if I said so I should hardly lie. + But there have been those things between us, sir, + That men call sweet. + +CHASTELARD. + I know not how There is + Turns to There hath been; 't is a heavier change + Than change of flesh to dust. Yet though years change + And good things end and evil things grow great, + The old love that was, or that was dreamed about, + That sang and kissed and wept upon itself, + Laughed and ran mad with love of its own face, + That was a sweet thing. + +QUEEN. + Nay, I know not well. + 'T is when the man is held fast underground + They say for sooth what manner of heart he had. + We are alive, and cannot be well sure + If we loved much or little: think you not + It were convenient one of us should die? + +CHASTELARD. + Madam, your speech is harsh to understand. + +QUEEN. + Why, there could come no change then; one of us + Would never need to fear our love might turn + To the sad thing that it may grow to be. + I would sometimes all things were dead asleep + That I have loved, all buried in soft beds + And sealed with dreams and visions, and each dawn + Sung to by sorrows, and all night assuaged + By short sweet kissed and by sweet long loves + For old life's sake, lest weeping overmuch + Should wake them in a strange new time, and arm + Memory's blind hand to kill forgetfulness. + +CHASTELARD. + Look, you dream still, and sadly. + +QUEEN. + Sooth, a dream; + For such things died or lied in sweet love's face, + And I forget them not, God help my wit! + I would the whole world were made up of sleep + And life not fashioned out of lies and loves. + We foolish women have such times, you know, + When we are weary or afraid or sick + For perfect nothing. + +CHASTELARD. + [Aside.] + Now would one be fain + To know what bitter or what dangerous thing + She thinks of, softly chafing her soft lip. + She must mean evil. + +QUEEN. + Are you sad too, sir, + That you say nothing? + +CHASTELARD. + I? not sad a jot-- + Though this your talk might make a blithe man sad. + +QUEEN. + O me! I must not let stray sorrows out; + They are ill to fledge, and if they feel blithe air + They wail and chirp untunefully. Would God + I had been a man! when I was born, men say, + My father turned his face and wept to think + I was no man. + +CHASTELARD. + Will you weep too? + +QUEEN. + In sooth, + If I were a man I should be no base man; + I could have fought; yea, I could fight now too + If men would show me; I would I were the king! + I should be all ways better than I am. + +CHASTELARD. + Nay, would you have more honor, having this-- + Men's hearts and loves and the sweet spoil of souls + Given you like simple gold to bind your hair? + Say you were king of thews, not queen of souls, + An iron headpiece hammered to a head, + You might fall too. + +QUEEN. + No, then I would not fall, + Or God should make me woman back again. + To be King James-you hear men say King James, + The word sounds like a piece of gold thrown down, + Rings with a round and royal note in it-- + A name to write good record of; this king + Fought here and there, was beaten such a day, + And came at last to a good end, his life + Being all lived out, and for the main part well + And like a king's life; then to have men say + (As now they say of Flodden, here they broke + And there they held up to the end) years back + They saw you-yea, I saw the king's face helmed + Red in the hot lit foreground of some fight + Hold the whole war as it were by the bit, a horse + Fit for his knees' grip-the great rearing war + That frothed with lips flung up, and shook men's lives + Off either flank of it like snow; I saw + (You could not hear as his sword rang), saw him + Shout, laugh, smite straight, and flaw the riven ranks, + Move as the wind moves, and his horse's feet + Stripe their long flags with dust. Why, if one died, + To die so in the heart and heat of war + Were a much goodlier thing than living soft + And speaking sweet for fear of men. Woe's me, + Is there no way to pluck this body off? + Then I should never fear a man again, + Even in my dreams I should not; no, by heaven. + +CHASTELARD. + I never thought you did fear anything. + +QUEEN. + God knows I do; I could be sick with wrath + To think what grievous fear I have 'twixt whiles + Of mine own self and of base men: last night + If certain lords were glancing where I was + Under the eyelid, with sharp lip and brow, + I tell you, for pure shame and fear of them, + I could have gone and slain them. + +CHASTELARD. + Verily, + You are changed since those good days that fell in France; + But yet I think you are not so changed at heart + As to fear man. + +QUEEN. + I would I had no need. + Lend me your sword a little; a fair sword; + I see the fingers that I hold it with + Clear in the blade, bright pink, the shell-color, + Brighter than flesh is really, curved all round. + Now men would mock if I should wear it here, + Bound under bosom with a girdle, here, + And yet I have heart enough to wear it well. + Speak to me like a woman, let me see + If I can play at man. + +CHASTELARD. + God save King James! + +QUEEN. + Would you could change now! Fie, this will not do; + Unclasp your sword; nay, the hilt hurts my side; + It sticks fast here. Unbind this knot for me: + Stoop, and you'll see it closer; thank you: there. + Now I can breathe, sir. Ah! it hurts me, though: + This was fool's play. + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, you are better so, + Without the sword; your eyes are stronger things, + Whether to save or slay. + +QUEEN. + Alas, my side! + It hurts right sorely. Is it not pitiful + Our souls should be so bound about with flesh + Even when they leap and smite with wings and feet, + The least pain plucks them back, puts out their eyes, + Turns them to tears and words? Ah my sweet knight, + You have the better of us that weave and weep + While the blithe battle blows upon your eyes + Like rain and wind; yet I remember too + When this last year the fight at Corrichie + Reddened the rushes with stained fen-water, + I rode with my good men and took delight, + Feeling the sweet clear wind upon my eyes + And rainy soft smells blown upon my face + In riding: then the great fight jarred and joined, + And the sound stung me right through heart and all; + For I was here, see, gazing off the hills, + In the wet air; our housings were all wet, + And not a plume stood stiffly past the ear + But flapped between the bridle and the neck; + And under us we saw the battle go + Like running water; I could see by fits + Some helm the rain fell shining off, some flag + Snap from the staff, shorn through or broken short + In the man's falling: yea, one seemed to catch + The very grasp of tumbled men at men, + Teeth clenched in throats, hands riveted in hair, + Tearing the life out with no help of swords. + And all the clamor seemed to shine, the light + Seemed to shout as a man doth; twice I laughed-- + I tell you, twice my heart swelled out with thirst + To be into the battle; see, fair lord, + I swear it seemed I might have made a knight, + And yet the simple bracing of a belt + Makes me cry out; this is too pitiful, + This dusty half of us made up with fears.-- + Have you been ever quite so glad to fight + As I have thought men must? pray you, speak truth. + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, when the time came, there caught hold of me + Such pleasure in the head and hands and blood + As may be kindled under loving lips: + Crossing the ferry once to the Clerks' Field, + I mind how the plashing noise of Seine + Put fire into my face for joy, and how + My blood kept measure with the swinging boat + Till we touched land, all for the sake of that + Which should be soon. + +QUEEN. + Her name, for God's love, sir; + You slew your friend for love's sake? nay, the name. + +CHASTELARD. + Faith, I forget. + +QUEEN. + Now by the faith I have + You have no faith to swear by. + +CHASTELARD. + A good sword: + We left him quiet after a thrust or twain. + +QUEEN. + I would I had been at hand and marked them off + As the maids did when we played singing games: + You outwent me at rhyming; but for faith, + We fight best there. I would I had seen you fight. + +CHASTELARD. + I would you had; his play was worth an eye; + He made some gallant way before that pass + Which made me way through him. + +QUEEN. + Would I saw that-- + How did you slay him? + +CHASTELARD. + A clean pass--this way; + Right in the side here, where the blood has root. + His wrist went round in pushing, see you, thus, + Or he had pierced me. + +QUEEN. + Yea, I see, sweet knight. + I have a mind to love you for his sake; + Would I had seen. + +CHASTELARD. + Hugues de Marsillac-- + I have the name now; 't was a goodly one + Before he changed it for a dusty name. + +QUEEN. + Talk not of death; I would hear living talk + Of good live swords and good strokes struck withal, + Brave battles and the mirth of mingling men, + Not of cold names you greet a dead man with. + You are yet young for fighting; but in fight + Have you never caught a wound? + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, twice or so: + The first time in a little outlying field + (My first field) at the sleepy gray of dawn, + They found us drowsy, fumbling at our girths, + And rode us down by heaps; I took a hurt + Here in the shoulder. + +QUEEN. + Ah, I mind well now; + Did you not ride a day's space afterward, + Having two wounds? yea, Dandelot it was, + That Dandelot took word of it. I know, + Sitting at meat when the news came to us + I had nigh swooned but for those Florence eyes + Slanting my way with sleek lids drawn up close-- + Yea, and she said, the Italian brokeress, + She said such men were good for great queens' love. + I would you might die, when you come to die, + Like a knight slain. Pray God we make good ends. + For love too, love dies hard or easily, + But some way dies on some day, ere we die. + +CHASTELARD. + You made a song once of old flowers and loves, + Will you not sing that rather? 't is long gone + Since you sang last. + +QUEEN. + I had rather sigh than sing + And sleep than sigh; 't is long since verily, + But I will once more sing; ay, thus it was. + +[Sings.] + + 1. + J'ai vu faner bien des choses, + Mainte feuille aller au vent. + En songeant aux vieilles roses, + J'ai pleure souvent. + + 2. + Vois-tu dans les roses mortes + Amour qui sourit cache? + O mon amant, a nos portes + L'as-tu vu couche? + + 3. + As-tu vu jamais au monde + Venus chasser et courir? + Fille de l'onde, avec l'onde + Doit-elle mourir? + + 4. + Aux jours de neige et de givre + L'amour s'effeuille et s'endort; + Avec mai doit-il revivre, + Ou bien est-il mort? + + 5. + Qui sait ou s'en vont les roses? + Qui sai ou s'en va le vent? + En songeant a telles choses, + J'ai pleure souvent. + + I never heard yet but love made good knights, + But for pure faith, by Mary's holiness, + I think she lies about men's lips asleep, + And if one kiss or pluck her by the hand + To wake her, why God help your woman's wit, + Faith is but dead; dig her grave deep at heart, + And hide her face with cerecloths; farewell faith. + Would I could tell why I talk idly. Look, + Here come my riddle-readers. Welcome all; + +[Enter MURRAY, DARNLEY, RANDOLPH, LINDSAY, +MORTON, and other LORDS.] + + Sirs, be right welcome. Stand you by my side, + Fair cousin, I must lean on love or fall; + You are a goodly staff, sir; tall enough, + And fair enough to serve. My gentle lords, + I am full glad of God that in great grace + He hath given me such a lordly stay as this; + There is no better friended queen alive. + For the repealing of those banished men + That stand in peril yet of last year's fault, + It is our will; you have our seal to that. + Brother, we hear harsh bruits of bad report + Blown up and down about our almoner; + See you to this: let him be sought into: + They say lewd folk make ballads of their spleen, + Strew miry ways of words with talk of him; + If they have cause let him be spoken with. + +LINDSAY. + Madam, they charge him with so rank a life + Were it not well this fellow were plucked out-- + Seeing this is not an eye that doth offend, + But a blurred glass it were no harm to break; + Yea rather it were gracious to be done? + +QUEEN. + Let him be weighed, and use him as he is; + I am of my nature pitiful, ye know, + And cannot turn my love unto a thorn + In so brief space. Ye are all most virtuous; + Yea, there is goodness grafted on this land; + But yet compassion is some part of God. + There is much heavier business held on hand + Than one man's goodness: yea, as things fare here, + A matter worth more weighing. All you wot + I am choose a help to my weak feet, + A lamp before my face, a lord and friend + To walk with me in weary ways, high up + Between the wind and rain and the hot sun. + Now I have chosen a helper to myself, + I wot the best a woman ever won; + A man that loves me, and a royal man, + A goodly love and lord for any queen. + But for the peril and despite of men + I have sometime tarried and withheld myself, + Not fearful of his worthiness nor you, + But with some lady's loathing to let out + My whole heart's love; for truly this is hard, + Not like a woman's fashion, shamefacedness + And noble grave reluctance of herself + To be the tongue and cry of her own heart. + Nathless plain speech is better than much wit, + So ye shall bear with me; albeit I think + Ye have caught the mark whereat my heart is bent. + I have kept close counsel and shut up men's lips, + But lightly shall a woman's will slip out, + The foolish little winged will of her, + Through cheek or eye when tongue is charmed asleep. + For that good lord I have good will to wed, + I wot he knew long since which way it flew, + Even till it lit on his right wrist and sang. + Lo, here I take him by the hand: fair lords, + This is my kinsman, made of mine own blood, + I take to halve the state and services + That bow down to me, and to be my head, + My chief, my master, my sweet lord and king. + Now shall I never say "sweet cousin" more + To my dear head and husband; here, fair sir, + I give you all the heart of love in me + To gather off my lips. Did it like you, + The taste of it? sir, it was whole and true. + God save our king! + +DARNLEY. + Nay, nay, sweet love, no lord; + No king of yours though I were lord of these. + +QUEEN. + Let word be sent to all good friends of ours + To help us to be glad; England and France + Shall bear great part of our rejoicings up. + Give me your hand, dear lord; for from this time + I must not walk alone. Lords, have good cheer: + For you shall have a better face than mine + To set upon your kingly gold and show + For Scotland's forehead in the van of things. + Go with us now, and see this news set out. + +[Exeunt QUEEN, DARNLEY, and LORDS.] + +[As CHASTELARD is going out, enter MARY BEATON.] + +MARY BEATON. + Have you yet heard? You knew of this? + +CHASTELARD. + I know. + I was just thinking how such things were made + And were so fair as this is. Do you know + She held me here and talked--the most sweet talk + Men ever heard of? + +MARY BEATON. + You hate me to the heart. + What will you do? + +CHASTELARD. + I know not: die some day, + But live as long and lightly as I can. + Will you now love me? faith, but if you do, + It were much better you were dead and hearsed. + Will you do one thing for me? + +MARY BEATON. + Yea, all things. + +CHASTELARD. + Speak truth a little, for God's sake: indeed + It were no harm to do. Come, will you, sweet? + Though it be but to please God. + +MARY BEATON. + What will you do? + +CHASTELARD. + Ay, true, I must do somewhat. Let me see: + To get between and tread upon his face-- + Catch both her hands and bid men look at them, + How pure they were--I would do none of these, + Though they got wedded all the days in the year. + We may do well yet when all's come and gone. + I pray you on this wedding-night of theirs + Do but one thing that I shall ask of you, + And Darnley will not hunger as I shall + For that good time. Sweet, will you swear me this? + +MARY BEATON. + Yea; though to do it were mortal to my soul + As the chief sin. + +CHASTELARD. + I thank you: let us go. + + + +END OF THE SECOND ACT. + + + +ACT III. + +THE QUEEN. + + + + +SCENE I.--The Queen's Chamber. Night. Lights burning +In front of the bed. + +[Enter CHASTELARD and MARY BEATON.] + +MARY BEATON. + Be tender of your feet. + +CHASTELARD. + I shall not fail: + These ways have light enough to help a man + That walks with such stirred blood in him as mine. + +MARY BEATON. + I would yet plead with you to save your head: + Nay, let this be then: sir, I chide you not. + Nay, let all come. Do not abide her yet. + +CHASTELARD. + Have you read never in French books the song + Called the Duke's Song, some boy made ages back, + A song of drag-nets hauled across thwart seas + And plucked up with rent sides, and caught therein + A strange-haired woman with sad singing lips, + Cold in the cheek like any stray of sea, + And sweet to touch? so that men seeing her face, + And how she sighed out little Ahs of pain + And soft cries sobbing sideways from her mouth, + Fell in hot love, and having lain with her + Died soon? one time I could have told it through: + Now I have kissed the sea-witch on her eyes + And my lips ache with it; but I shall sleep + Full soon, and a good space of sleep. + +MARY BEATON. + Alas! + +CHASTELARD. + What makes you sigh though I be found a fool? + You have no blame: and for my death, sweet friend, + I never could have lived long either way. + Why, as I live, the joy I have of this + Would make men mad that were not mad with love; + I hear my blood sing, and my lifted heart + Is like a springing water blown of wind + For pleasure of this deed. Now, in God's name, + I swear if there be danger in delight + I must die now: if joys have deadly teeth, + I'll have them bite my soul to death, and end + In the old asp's way, Egyptian-wise; be killed + In a royal purple fashion. Look, my love + Would kill me if my body were past hurt + Of any man's hand; and to die thereof, + I say, is sweeter than all sorts of life. + I would not have her love me now, for then + I should die meanlier some time. I am safe, + Sure of her face, my life's end in her sight, + My blood shed out about her feet--by God, + My heart feels drunken when I think of it. + See you, she will not rid herself of me, + Not though she slay me: her sweet lips and life + Will smell of my spilt blood. + +MARY BEATON. + Give me good-night. + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, and good thanks. + +[Exit MARY BEATON.] + + Here is the very place: + Here has her body bowed the pillows in + And here her head thrust under made the sheet + Smell sort of her mixed hair and spice: even here + Her arms pushed back the coverlet, pulled here + The golden silken curtain halfway in + It may be, and made room to lean out loose, + Fair tender fallen arms. Now, if God would, + Doubtless he might take pity on my soul + To give me three clear hours, and then red hell + Snare me forever: this were merciful: + If I were God now I should do thus much. + I must die next, and this were not so hard + For him to let me eat sweet fruit and die + With my lips sweet from it. For one shall have + This fare for common days'-bread, which to me + Should be a touch kept always on my sense + To make hell soft, yea, the keen pain of hell + Soft as the loosening of wound arms in sleep. + Ah, love is good, and the worst part of it + More than all things but death. She will be here + In some small while, and see me face to face + That am to give up life for her and go + Where a man lies with all his loves put out + And his lips full of earth. I think on her, + And the old pleasure stings and makes half-tears + Under mine eyelids. Prithee, love, come fast, + That I may die soon: yea, some kisses through, + I shall die joyfully enough, so God + Keep me alive till then. I feel her feet + Coming far off; now must I hold my heart, + Steadying my blood to see her patiently. + +[Hides himself by the bed.] + +[Enter the QUEEN and DARNLEY.] + +QUEEN. + Nay, now go back: I have sent off my folk, + Maries and all. Pray you, let be my hair; + I cannot twist the gold thread out of it + That you wound in so close. Look, here it clings: + Ah! now you mar my hair unwinding it. + Do me no hurt, sir. + +DARNLEY. + I would do you ease; + Let me stay here. + +QUEEN. + Nay, will you go, my lord? + +DARNLEY. + Eh? would you use me as a girl does fruit, + Touched with her mouth and pulled away for game + To look thereon ere her lips feed? but see, + By God, I fare the worse for you. + +QUEEN. + Fair sir, + Give me this hour to watch with and say prayers; + You have not faith-it needs me to say prayers, + That with commending of this deed to God + I may get grace for it. + +DARNLEY. + Why, lacks it grace? + Is not all wedlock gracious of itself? + +QUEEN. + Nay, that I know not of. Come, sweet, be hence. + +DARNLEY. + You have a sort of jewel in your neck + That's like mine here. + +QUEEN. + Keep off your hands and go: + You have no courtesy to be a king. + +DARNLEY. + Well, I will go: nay, but I thwart you not. + Do as you will, and get you grace; farewell, + And for my part, grace keep this watch with me! + For I need grace to bear with you so much. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. + So, he is forth. Let me behold myself; + I am too pale to be so hot; I marvel + So little color should be bold in the face + When the blood is not quieted. I have + But a brief space to cool my thoughts upon. + If one should wear the hair thus heaped and curled + Would it look best? or this way in the neck? + Could one ungirdle in such wise one's heart + +[Taking off her girdle.] + + And ease it inwards as the waist is eased + By slackening of the slid clasp on it! + How soft the silk is-gracious color too; + Violet shadows like new veins thrown up + Each arm, and gold to fleck the faint sweet green + Where the wrist lies thus eased. I am right glad + I have no maids about to hasten me-- + So I will rest and see my hair shed down + On either silk side of my woven sleeves, + Get some new way to bind it back with-yea, + Fair mirror-glass, I am well ware of you, + Yea, I know that, I am quite beautiful. + How my hair shines!-Fair face, be friends with me + And I will sing to you; look in my face + Now, and your mouth must help the song in mine. + + Alys la chatelaine + Voit venir de par Seine + Thiebault le capitaine + Qui parle ainsi! + + Was that the wind in the casement? nay, no more + But the comb drawn through half my hissing hair + Laid on my arms-yet my flesh moved at it. + + Dans ma camaille + Plus de clou qui vaille, + Dans ma cotte-maille + Plus de fer aussi. + + Ah, but I wrong the ballad-verse: what's good + In such frayed fringes of old rhymes, to make + Their broken burden lag with us? meseems + I could be sad now if I fell to think + The least sad thing; aye, that sweet lady's fool, + Fool sorrow, would make merry with mine eyes + For a small thing. Nay, but I will keep glad, + Nor shall old sorrow be false friends with me. + But my first wedding was not like to this-- + Fair faces then and laughter and sweet game, + And a pale little mouth that clung on mine + When I had kissed him by the faded eyes + And either thin cheek beating with faint blood. + Well, he was sure to die soon; I do think + He would have given his body to be slain, + Having embraced my body. Now, God knows, + I have no man to do as much for me + As give me but a little of his blood + To fill my beauty from, though I go down + Pale to my grave for want--I think not. Pale-- + I am too pale purely--Ah! + +[See him in the glass, coming forward.] + +CHASTELARD. + Be not afraid. + +QUEEN. + Saint Mary! what a shaken wit have I! + Nay, is it you? who let you through the doors? + Where be my maidens? which way got you in? + Nay, but stand up, kiss not my hands so hard; + By God's fair body, if you but breathe on them + You are just dead and slain at once. What adder + Has bit you mirthful mad? for by this light + A man to have his head laughed off for mirth + Is no great jest. Lay not your eyes on me; + What, would you not be slain? + +CHASTELARD. + I pray you, madam, + Bear with me a brief space and let me speak. + I will not touch your garments even, nor speak + But in soft wise, and look some other way, + If that it like you; for I came not here + For pleasure of the eyes; yet, if you will, + Let me look on you. + +QUEEN. + As you will, fair sir. + Give me that coif to gather in my hair-- + I thank you--and my girdle-nay, that side. + Speak, if you will; yet if you will be gone, + Why, you shall go, because I hate you not. + You know that I might slay you with my lips, + With calling out? but I will hold my peace. + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, do some while. I had a thing to say; + I know not wholly what thing. O my sweet, + I am come here to take farewell of love + That I have served, and life that I have lived + Made up of love, here in the sight of you + That all my life's time I loved more than God, + Who quits me thus with bitter death for it. + For you well know that I must shortly die, + My life being wound about you as it is, + Who love me not; yet do not hate me, sweet, + But tell me wherein I came short of love; + For doubtless I came short of a just love, + And fell in some fool's fault that angered you. + Now that I talk men dig my grave for me + Out in the rain, and in a little while + I shall be thrust in some sad space of earth + Out of your eyes; and you, O you my love, + A newly-wedded lady full of mirth + And a queen girt with all good people's love, + You shall be fair and merry in all your days. + Is this so much for me to have of you? + Do but speak, sweet: I know these are no words + A man should say though he were now to die, + But I am as a child for love, and have + No strength at heart; yea, I am afraid to die, + For the harsh dust will lie upon my face + Too thick to see you past. Look how I love you; + I did so love you always, that your face + Seen through my sleep has wrung mine eyes to tears + For pure delight in you. Why do you thus? + You answer not, but your lips curl in twain + And your face moves; there, I shall make you weep + And be a coward too; it were much best + I should be slain. + +QUEEN. + Yea, best such folk were slain; + Why should they live to cozen fools with lies? + You would swear now you have used me faithfully; + Shall I not make you swear? I am ware of you: + You will not do it; nay, for the fear of God + You will not swear. Come, I am merciful; + God made a foolish woman, making me, + And I have loved your mistress with whole heart; + Say you do love her, you shall marry her + And she give thanks: yet I could wish your love + Had not so lightly chosen forth a face; + For your fair sake, because I hate you not. + +CHASTELARD. + What is to say? why, you do surely know + That since my days were counted for a man's + I have loved you; yea, how past all help and sense, + Whatever thing was bitter to my love, + I have loved you; how when I rode in war + Your face went floated in among men's helms, + Your voice went through the shriek of slipping swords; + Yea, and I never have loved women well, + Seeing always in my sight I had your lips + Curled over, red and sweet; and the soft space + Of carven brows, and splendor of great throat + Swayed lily-wise; what pleasure should one have + To wind his arms about a lesser love? + I have seen you; why, this were joy enough + For God's eyes up in heaven, only to see + And to come never nearer than I am. + Why, it was in my flesh, my bone and blood, + Bound in my brain, to love you; yea, and writ + All my heart over: if I would lie to you + I doubt I could not lie. Ah, you see now, + You know now well enough; yea, there, sweet love, + Let me kiss there. + +QUEEN. + I love you best of them. + Clasp me quite round till your lips cleave on mine, + False mine, that did you wrong. Forgive them dearly + As you are sweet to them; for by love's love + I am not that evil woman in my heart + That laughs at a rent faith. O Chastelard, + Since this was broken to me of your new love + I have not seen the face of a sweet hour. + Nay, if there be no pardon in a man, + What shall a woman have for loving him? + Pardon me, sweet. + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, so I pardon you, + And this side now; the first way. Would God please + To slay me so! who knows how he might please? + Now I am thinking, if you know it not, + How I might kill you, kiss your breath clean out, + And take your soul to bring mine through to God, + That our two souls might close and be one twain + Or a twain one, and God himself want skill + To set us either severally apart. + O, you must overlive me many years. + And many years my soul be in waste hell; + But when some time God can no more refrain + To lay death like a kiss across your lips, + And great lords bear you clothed with funeral things, + And your crown girded over deadly brows, + Then after you shall touch me with your eyes, + Remembering love was fellow with my flesh + Here in sweet earth, and make me well of love + And heal my many years with piteousness. + +QUEEN. + You talk too sadly and too feignedly. + +CHASTELARD. + Too sad, but not too feigned; I am sad + That I shall die here without feigning thus; + And without feigning I were fain to live. + +QUEEN. + Alas, you will be taken presently + And then you are but dead. Pray you get hence. + +CHASTELARD. + I will not. + +QUEEN. + Nay, for God's love be away; + You will be slain and I get shame. God's mercy! + You were stark mad to come here; kiss me, sweet. + Oh, I do love you more than all men! yea, + Take my lips to you, close mine eyes up fast, + So you leave hold a little; there, for pity, + Abide now, and to-morrow come to me. + Nay, lest one see red kisses in my throat-- + Dear God! what shall I give you to be gone? + +CHASTELARD. + I will not go. Look, here's full night grown up; + Why should I seek to sleep away from here? + The place is soft and the lights burn for sleep; + Be not you moved; I shall lie well enough. + +QUEEN. + You are utterly undone. Sweet, by my life, + You shall be saved with taking ship at once. + For if you stay this foolish love's hour out + There is not ten days' likely life in you. + This is no choice. + +CHASTELARD. + Nay, for I will not go. + +QUEEN. + O me! this is that Bayard's blood of yours + That makes you mad; yea, and you shall not stay. + I do not understand. Mind, you must die. + Alas, poor lord, you have no sense of me; + I shall be deadly to you. + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, I saw that; + But I saw not that when my death's day came + You could be quite so sweet to me. + +QUEEN. + My love! + If I could kiss my heart's root out on you + You would taste love hid at the core of me. + +CHASTELARD. + Kiss me twice more. This beautiful bowed head + That has such hair with kissing ripples in + And shivering soft eyelashes and brows + With fluttered blood! but laugh a little, sweetly, + That I may see your sad mouth's laughing look + I have used sweet hours in seeing. O, will you weep? + I pray you do not weep. + +QUEEN. + Nay, dear, I have + No tears in me; I never shall weep much, + I think, in all my life; I have wept for wrath + Sometimes and for mere pain, but for love's pity + I cannot weep at all. I would to God + You loved me less; I give you all I can + For all this love of yours, and yet I am sure + I shall live out the sorrow of your death + And be glad afterwards. You know I am sorry. + I should weep now; forgive me for your part, + God made me hard, I think. Alas, you see + I had fain been other than I am. + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, love. + Comfort your heart. What way am I do die? + +QUEEN. + Ah, will you go yet, sweet? + +CHASTELARD. + No, by God's body. + You will not see? how shall I make you see? + Look, it may be love was a sort of curse + Made for my plague and mixed up with my days + Somewise in their beginning; or indeed + A bitter birth begotten of sad stars + At mine own body's birth, that heaven might make + My life taste sharp where other men drank sweet; + But whether in heavy body or broken soul, + I know it must go on to be my death. + There was the matter of my fate in me + When I was fashioned first, and given such life + As goes with a sad end; no fault but God's. + Yea, and for all this I am not penitent: + You see I am perfect in these sins of mine, + I have my sins writ in a book to read; + Now I shall die and be well done with this. + But I am sure you cannot see such things, + God knows I blame you not. + +QUEEN. + What shall be said? + You know most well that I am sorrowful. + But you should chide me. Sweet, you have seen fair wars, + Have seen men slain and ridden red in them; + Why will you die a chamberer's death like this? + What, shall no praise be written of my knight, + For my fame's sake? + +CHASTELARD. + Nay, no great praise, I think; + I will no more; what should I do with death, + Though I died goodly out of sight of you? + I have gone once: here am I set now, sweet, + Till the end come. That is your husband, hark, + He knocks at the outer door. Kiss me just once. + You know now all you have to say. Nay, love, + Let him come quickly. + +[Enter DARNLEY, and afterwards the MARIES.] + +DARNLEY. + Yea, what thing is here? + Ay, this was what the doors shut fast upon-- + Ay, trust you to be fast at prayer, my sweet? + By God I have a mind-- + +CHASTELARD. + What mind then, sir? + A liar's lewd mind, to coin sins for jest, + Because you take me in such wise as this? + Look you, I have to die soon, and I swear, + That am no liar but a free knight and lord, + I shall die clear of any sin to you, + Save that I came for no good will of mine; + I am no carle, I play fair games with faith, + And by mine honor for my sake I swear + I say but truth; for no man's sake save mine, + Lest I die shamed. Madam, I pray you say + I am no liar; you know me what I am, + A sinful man and shortly to be slain, + That in a simple insolence of love + Have stained with a fool's eyes your holy hours + And with a fool's words put your pity out; + Nathless you know if I be liar or no, + Wherefore for God's sake give me grace to swear + (Yea, for mine too) how past all praise you are + And stainless of all shame; and how all men + Lie, saying you are not most good and innocent, + Yea, the one thing good as God. + +DARNLEY. + O sir, we know + You can swear well, being taken; you fair French + Dare swallow God's name for a lewd love-sake + As it were water. Nay, we know, we know; + Save your sweet breath now lest you lack it soon: + We are simple, we; we have not heard of you. + Madam, by God you are well shamed in him: + Ay, trust you to be fingering in one's face, + Play with one's neck-chain? ah, your maiden's man, + A relic of your people's! + +CHASTELARD. + Hold your peace, + Or I will set an edge on your own lie + Shall scar yourself. Madam, have out your guard; + 'T is time I were got hence. + +QUEEN. + Sweet Hamilton, + Hold you my hand and help me to sit down. + O Henry, I am beaten from my wits-- + Let me have time and live; call out my people-- + Bring forth some armed guard to lay hold on him: + But see no man be slain. + Sirs, hide your swords; + I will not have men slain. + +DARNLEY. + What, is this true? + Call the queen's people--help the queen there, you-- + Ho, sirs, come in. + +[Enter some with the Guard.] + +QUEEN. + Lay hold upon that man; + Bear him away, but see he have no hurt. + +CHASTELARD. + Into your hands I render up myself + With a free heart; deal with me how you list, + But courteously, I pray you. Take my sword. + Farewell, great queen; the sweetness in your look + Makes life look bitter on me. Farewell, sirs. + +[He is taken out.] + +DARNLEY. + Yea, pluck him forth, and have him hanged by dawn; + He shall find bed enow to sleep. God's love! + That such a knave should be a knight like this! + +QUEEN. + Sir, peace awhile; this shall be as I please; + Take patience to you. Lords, I pray you see + All be done goodly; look they wrong him not. + Carmichael, you shall sleep with me to-night; + I am sorely shaken, even to the heart. Fair lords, + I thank you for your care. Sweet, stay by me. + +END OF THE THIRD ACT. + + + +ACT IV. + +MURRAY. + + +SCENE I.-The Queen's Lodging at St. Andrew's. + +The QUEEN and the four MARIES. + +QUEEN. + Why will you break my heart with praying to me? + You Seyton, you Carmichael, you have wits, + You are not all run to tears; you do not think + It is my wrath or will that whets this axe + Against his neck? + +MARY SEYTON. + Nay, these three weeks agone + I said the queen's wrath was not sharp enough + To shear a neck. + +QUEEN. + Sweet, and you did me right, + And look you, what my mercy bears to fruit, + Danger and deadly speech and a fresh fault + Before the first was cool in people's lips; + A goodly mercy: and I wash hands of it.-- + Speak you, there; have you ever found me sharp? + You weep and whisper with sloped necks and heads + Like two sick birds; do you think shame of me? + Nay, I thank God none can think shame of me; + But am I bitter, think you, to men's faults? + I think I am too merciful, too meek: + Why if I could I would yet save this man; + 'T is just boy's madness; a soft stripe or two + Would do to scourge the fault in his French blood. + I would fain let him go. You, Hamilton, + You have a heart thewed harder than my heart; + When mine would threat it sighs, and wrath in it + Has a bird's flight and station, starves before + It can well feed or fly; my pulse of wrath + Sounds tender as the running down of tears. + You are the hardest woman I have known, + Your blood has frost and cruel gall in it, + You hold men off with bitter lips and eyes-- + Such maidens should serve England; now, perfay, + I doubt you would have got him slain at once. + Come, would you not? come, would you let him live? + +MARY HAMILTON. + Yes-I think yes; I cannot tell; maybe + I would have seen him punished. + +QUEEN. + Look you now, + There's maiden mercy; I would have him live-- + For all my wifehood maybe I weep too; + Here's a mere maiden falls to slaying at once, + Small shrift for her; God keep us from such hearts! + I am a queen too that would have him live, + But one that has no wrong and is no queen, + She would-What are you saying there, you twain? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + I said a queen's face and so fair an one's + Would lose no grace for giving grace away; + That gift comes back upon the mouth it left + And makes it sweeter, and set fresh red on it. + +QUEEN. + This comes of sonnets when the dance draws breath; + These talking times will make a dearth of grace. + But you-what ails you that your lips are shut? + Weep, if you will; here are four friends of yours + To weep as fast for pity of your tears. + Do you desire him dead? nay, but men say + He was your friend, he fought them on your side, + He made you songs-God knows what songs he made! + Speak you for him a little: will you not? + +MARY BEATON. + Madam, I have no words. + +QUEEN. + No words? no pity-- + Have you no mercies for such men? God help! + It seems I am the meekest heart on earth-- + Yea, the one tender woman left alive, + And knew it not. I will not let him live, + For all my pity of him. + +MARY BEATON. + Nay, but, madam, + For God's love look a little to this thing. + If you do slay him you are but shamed to death; + All men will cry upon you, women weep, + Turning your sweet name bitter with their tears; + Red shame grow up out of your memory + And burn his face that would speak well of you: + You shall have no good word nor pity, none, + Till some such end be fallen upon you: nay, + I am but cold, I knew I had no words, + I will keep silence. + +QUEEN. + Yea now, as I live, + I wist not of it: troth, he shall not die. + See you, I am pitiful, compassionate, + I would not have men slain for my love's sake, + But if he live to do me three times wrong, + Why then my shame would grow up green and red + Like any flower. I am not whole at heart; + In faith, I wot not what such things should be; + I doubt it is but dangerous; he must die. + +MARY BEATON. + Yea, but you will not slay him. + +QUEEN. + Swear me that, + I'll say he shall not die for your oath's sake. + What will you do for grief when he is dead? + +MARY BEATON. + Nothing for grief, but hold my peace and die. + +QUEEN. + Why, for your sweet sake one might let him live; + But the first fault was a green seed of shame, + And now the flower, and deadly fruit will come + With apple-time in autumn. By my life, + I would they had slain him there in Edinburgh; + But I reprieve him; lo the thank I get, + To set the base folk muttering like smoked bees + Of shame and love, and how love comes to shame, + And the queen loves shame that comes of love; + Yet I say nought and go about my ways, + And this mad fellow that I respited + Being forth and free, lo now the second time + Ye take him by my bed in wait. Now see + If I can get good-will to pardon him; + With what a face may I crave leave of men + To respite him, being young and a good knight + And mad for perfect love? shall I go say, + Dear lords, because ye took him shamefully, + Let him not die; because his fault is foul, + Let him not die; because if he do live + I shall be held a harlot of all men, + I pray you, sweet sirs, that he may not die? + +MARY BEATON. + Madam, for me I would not have him live; + Mine own heart's life was ended with my fame, + And my life's breath will shortly follow them; + So that I care not much; for you wot well + I have lost love and shame and fame and all + To no good end; nor while he had his life + Have I got good of him that was my love, + Save that for courtesy (which may God quit) + He kissed me once as one might kiss for love + Out of great pity for me; saving this, + He never did me grace in all his life. + And when you have slain him, madam, it may be + I shall get grace of him in some new way + In a new place, if God have care of us. + +QUEEN. + Bid you my brother to me presently. + +[Exeunt MARIES.] + + And yet the thing is pitiful; I would + There were some way. To send him overseas, + Out past the long firths to the cold keen sea + Where the sharp sound is that one hears up here-- + Or hold him in strong prison till he died-- + He would die shortly--or to set him free + And use him softly till his brains were healed-- + There is no way. Now never while I live + Shall we twain love together any more + Nor sit at rhyme as we were used to do, + Nor each kiss other only with the eyes + A great way off ere hand or lip could reach; + There is no way. + +[Enter MURRAY.] + + O, you are welcome, sir; + You know what need I have; but I praise heaven, + Having such need, I have such help of you. + I do believe no queen God ever made + Was better holpen than I look to be. + What, if two brethren love not heartily, + Who shall be good to either one of them? + +MURRAY. + Madam, I have great joy of your good will. + +QUEEN. + I pray you, brother, use no courtesies: + I have some fear you will not suffer me + When I shall speak. Fear is a fool, I think, + Yet hath he wit enow to fool my wits, + Being but a woman's. Do not answer me + Till you shall know; yet if you have a word + I shall be fain to heart it; but I think + There is no word to help me; no man's word: + There be two things yet that should do me good, + A speeding arm and a great heart. My lord, + I am soft-spirited as women are, + And ye wot well I have no harder heart: + Yea, with all my will I would not slay a thing, + But all should live right sweetly if I might; + So that man's blood-spilling lies hard on me. + I have a work yet for mine honor's sake, + A thing to do, God wot I know not how, + Nor how to crave it of you: nay, by heaven, + I will not shame myself to show it you: + I have not heart. + +MURRAY. + Why, if it may be done + With any honor, or with good men's excuse, + I shall well do it. + +QUEEN. + I would I wist that well. + Sir, do you love me? + +MURRAY. + Yea, you know I do. + +QUEEN. + In faith, you should well love me, for I love + The least man in your following for your sake + With a whole sister's heart. + +MURRAY. + Speak simply, madam; + I must obey you, being your bounden man. + +QUEEN. + Sir, so it is you know what things have been, + Even to the endangering of mine innocent name, + And by no fault, but by men's evil will; + If Chastelard have trial openly, + I am but shamed. + +MURRAY. + This were a wound indeed, + If your good name should lie upon his lip. + +QUEEN. + I will the judges put him not to plead, + For my fame's sake; he shall not answer them. + +MURRAY. + What, think you he will speak against your fame? + +QUEEN. + I know not; men might feign belief of him + For hate of me; it may be he will speak; + In brief, I will not have him held to proof. + +MURRAY. + Well, if this be, what good is to be done? + +QUEEN. + Is there no way but he must speak to them, + Being had to trial plainly? + +MURRAY. + I think, none. + +QUEEN. + Now mark, my lord; I swear he will not speak. + +MURRAY. + It were the best if you could make that sure. + +QUEEN. + There is one way. Look, sir, he shall not do it: + Shall not, or will not, either is one way; + I speak as I would have you understand. + +MURRAY. + Let me not guess at you; speak certainly. + +QUEEN. + You will not mind me: let him be removed; + Take means to get me surety; there be means. + +MURRAY. + So, in your mind, I have to slay the man? + +QUEEN. + Is there a mean for me to save the man? + +MURRAY. + Truly I see no mean except your love. + +QUEEN. + What love is that, my lord? what think you of, + Talking of love and of love's mean in me + And of your guesses and of slaying him? + Why, I say nought, have nought to say: God help me! + I bid you but take surety of the man, + Get him removed. + +MURRAY. + Come, come, be clear with me; + You bid me to despatch him privily. + +QUEEN. + God send me sufferance! I bid you, sir? + Nay, do not go; what matter if I did? + Nathless I never bade you; no, by God. + Be not so wroth; you are my brother born; + Why do you dwell upon me with such eyes? + For love of God you should not bear me hard. + +MURRAY. + What, are you made of flesh? + +QUEEN. + O, now I see + You had rather lose your wits to do me harm + Than keep sound wits to help me. + +MURRAY. + It is right strange; + The worst man living hath some fear, some love, + Holds somewhat dear a little for life's sake, + Keeps fast to some compassion; you have none; + You know of nothing that remembrance knows + To make you tender. I must slay the man? + Nay, I will do it. + +QUEEN. + Do, if you be not mad. + I am sorry for him; and he must needs die. + I would I were assured you hate me not: + I have no heart to slay him by my will. + I pray you think not bitterly of me. + +MURRAY. + Is it your pleasure such a thing were done? + +QUEEN. + Yea, by God's body is it, certainly. + +MURRAY. + Nay, for your love then, and for honor's sake, + This thing must be. + +QUEEN. + Yea, should I set you on? + Even for my love then, I beseech you, sir, + To seek him out, and lest he prate of me + To put your knife into him ere he come forth: + Meseems this were not such wild work to do. + +MURRAY. + I'll have him in the prison taken off. + +QUEEN. + I am bounden to you, even for my name's sake, + When that is done. + +MURRAY. + I pray you fear me not. + Farewell. I would such things were not to do, + Or not for me; yea, not for any man. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. + Alas, what honor have I to give thanks? + I would he had denied me: I had held my peace + Thenceforth forever; but he wrung out the word, + Caught it before my lip, was fain of it-- + It was his fault to put it in my mind, + Yea, and to feign a loathing of his fault. + Now is he about devising my love's death, + And nothing loth. Nay, since he must needs die, + Would he were dead and come alive again + And I might keep him safe. He doth live now + And I may do what love I will to him; + But by to-morrow he will be stark dead, + Stark slain and dead; and for no sort of love + Will he so much as kiss me half a kiss. + Were this to do I would not do it again. + +[Reenter MURRAY.] + + What, have you taken order? is it done? + It were impossible to do so soon. + Nay, answer me. + +MURRAY. + Madam, I will not do it. + +QUEEN. + How did you say? I pray, sir, speak again: + I know not what you said. + +MURRAY. + I say I will not; + I have thought thereof, and have made up my heart + To have no part in this: look you to it. + +QUEEN. + O, for God's sake! you will not have me shamed? + +MURRAY. + I will not dip my hand into your sin. + +QUEEN. + It were a good deed to deliver me; + I am but a woman, of one blood with you, + A feeble woman; put me not to shame; + I pray you of your pity do me right. + Yea, and no fleck of blood shall cleave to you + For a just deed. + +MURRAY. + I know not; I will none. + +QUEEN. + O, you will never let him speak to them + To put me in such shame? why, I should die + Out of pure shame and mine own burning blood; + Yea, my face feels the shame lay hold on it, + I am half burnt already in my thought; + Take pity of me. Think how shame slays a man; + How shall I live then? would you have me dead? + I pray you for our dead dear father's sake, + Let not men mock at me. Nay, if he speak, + I shall be sung in mine own towns. Have pity. + What, will you let men stone me in the ways? + +MURRAY. + Madam, I shall take pains the best I may + To save your honor, and what thing lieth in me + That will I do, but no close manslayings. + I will not have God's judgment gripe my throat + When I am dead, to hale me into hell + For a man's sake slain on this wise. Take heed. + See you to that. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. + One of you maidens there + Bid my lord hither. Now by Mary's soul, + He shall not die and bring me into shame. + There's treason in you like a fever, hot, + My holy-natured brother, cheek and eye; + You look red through with it: sick, honor-sick, + Specked with the blain of treason, leper-like-- + A scrupulous fair traitor with clean lips-- + If one should sue to hell to do him good + He were as brotherly holpen as I am. + This man must live and say no harm of me; + I may reprieve and cast him forth; yea, so-- + This were the best; or if he die midway-- + Yea, anything, so that he die not here. + +[To the MARIES within.] + + Fetch hither Darnley. Nay, ye gape on me-- + What, doth he sleep, or feeds, or plays at games? + Why, I would see him; I am weary for his sake; + Bid my lord in.-Nathless he will but chide; + Nay, fleer and laugh: what should one say to him? + There were some word if one could hit on it; + Some way to close with him: I wot not.-Sir, + +[Enter DARNLEY.] + + Please it your love I have a suit to you. + +DARNLEY. + What sort of suit? + +QUEEN. + Nay, if you be not friends-- + I have no suit towards mine enemies. + +DARNLEY. + Eh, do I look now like your enemy? + +QUEEN. + You have a way of peering under brow + I do not like. If you see anything + In me that irks you I will painfully + Labor to lose it: do but show me favor, + And as I am your faithful humble wife + This foolishness shall be removed in me. + +DARNLEY. + Why do you laugh and mock me with stretched hands? + Faith, I see no such thing. + +QUEEN. + That is well seen. + Come, I will take my heart between my lips, + Use it not hardly. Sir, my suit begins; + That you would please to make me that I am, + (In sooth I think I am) mistress and queen + Of mine own people. + +DARNLEY. + Why, this is no suit; + This is a simple matter, and your own. + +QUEEN. + It was, before God made you king of me. + +DARNLEY. + No king, by God's grace; were I such a king + I'd sell my kingdom for six roods of rye. + +QUEEN. + You are too sharp upon my words; I would + Have leave of you to free a man condemned. + +DARNLEY. + What man is that, sweet? + +QUEEN. + Such a mad poor man + As God desires us use not cruelly. + +DARNLEY. + Is there no name a man may call him by? + +QUEEN. + Nay, my fair master, what fair game is this? + Why, you do know him, it is Chastelard. + +DARNLEY. + Ay, is it soothly? + +QUEEN. + By my life, it is; + Sweet, as you tender me, so pardon him. + +DARNLEY. + As he doth tender you, so pardon me; + For if it were the mean to save my life + He should not live a day. + +QUEEN. + Nay, shall not he? + +DARNLEY. + Look what an evil wit old Fortune hath: + Why, I came here to get his time cut off. + This second fault is meat for lewd men's mouths; + You were best have him slain at once: 'tis hot. + +QUEEN. + Give me the warrant, and sit down, my lord. + Why, I will sign it; what, I understand + How this must be. Should not my name stand here? + +DARNLEY. + Yea, there, and here the seal. + +QUEEN. + Ay, so you say. + Shall I say too what I am thinking of? + +DARNLEY. + Do, if you will. + +QUEEN. + I do not like your suit. + +DARNLEY. + 'Tis of no Frenchman fashion. + +QUEEN. + No, God wot; + 'Tis nowise great men's fashion in French land + To clap a headsman's taberd on their backs. + +DARNLEY. + No, madam? + +QUEEN. + No; I never wist of that. + Is it a month gone I did call you lord? + I chose you by no straying stroke of sight, + But with my heart to love you heartily. + Did I wrong then? did mine eye draw my heart? + I know not; sir, it may be I did wrong: + And yet to love you; and would choose again, + Against to choose you. + +DARNLEY. + There, I love you too; + Take that for sooth, and let me take this hence. + +QUEEN. + O, do you think I hold you off with words? + Why, take it then; there is my handwriting, + And here the hand that you shall slay him with. + 'Tis a fair hand, a maiden-colored one: + I doubt yet it has never slain a man. + You never fought yet save for game, I wis. + Nay, thank me not, but have it from my sight; + Go and make haste for fear he be got forth: + It may be such a man is dangerous; + Who knows what friends he hath? and by my faith + I doubt he hath seen some fighting, I do fear + He hath fought and shed men's blood; ye are wise men + That will not leave such dangerous things alive; + 'T were well he died the sooner for your sakes. + Pray you make haste; it is not fit he live. + +DARNLEY. + What, will you let him die so easily? + +QUEEN. + Why, God have mercy! what way should one take + To please such people? there's some cunning way, + Something I miss, out of my simple soul. + What, must one say "Beseech you do no harm," + Or "for my love, sweet cousins, be not hard," + Or "let him live but till the vane come round"-- + Will such things please you? well then, have your way; + Sir, I desire you, kneeling down with tears, + With sighs and tears, fair sir, require of you, + Considering of my love I bear this man, + Just for my love's sake let him not be hanged + Before the sundown; do thus much for me, + To have a queen's prayers follow after you. + +DARNLEY. + I know no need for you to gibe at me. + +QUEEN. + Alack, what heart then shall I have to jest? + There is no woman jests in such a wise-- + For the shame's sake I pray you hang him not, + Seeing how I love him, save indeed in silk, + Sweet twisted silk of my sad handiwork. + Nay, and you will not do so much for me; + You vex your lip, biting the blood and all: + Were this so hard, and you compassionate? + I am in sore case then, and will weep indeed. + +DARNLEY. + What do you mean to cast such gibes at me? + +QUEEN. + Woe's me, and will you turn my tears to thorns? + Nay, set your eyes a little in my face; + See, do I weep? what will you make of me? + Will you not swear I love this prisoner? + Ye are wise, and ye will have it; yet for me + I wist not of it. We are but feeble fools, + And love may catch us when we lie asleep + And yet God knows we know not this a whit. + Come, look on me, swear you believe it not: + It may be I will take your word for that. + +DARNLEY. + Do you not love him? nay, but verily? + +QUEEN. + Now then, make answer to me verily, + Which of us twain is wiser? for my part + I will not swear I love not, if you will; + Ye be wise men and many men, my lords, + And ye will have me love him, ye will swear + That I do love him; who shall say ye lie? + Look on your paper; maybe I have wept: + Doubtless I love your hanged man in my heart. + What, is the writing smutched or gone awry? + Or blurred-ay, surely so much-with one tear, + One little sharp tear strayed on it by chance? + Come, come, the man is deadly dangerous; + Let him die presently. + +DARNLEY. + You do not love him; + Well, yet he need not die; it were right hard + To hang the fool because you love him not. + +QUEEN. + You have keen wits and thereto courtesy + To catch me with. No, let this man not die; + It were no such perpetual praise to you + To be his doomsman and in doglike wise + Bite his brief life in twain. + +DARNLEY. + Truly it were not. + +QUEEN. + Then for your honor and my love of you + (Oh, I do love you! but you know not, sweet, + You shall see how much), think you for their sake + He may go free? + +DARNLEY. + How, freely forth of us? + But yet he loves you, and being mad with love + Makes matter for base mouths to chew upon: + 'T were best he live not yet. + +QUEEN. + Will you say that? + +DARNLEY. + Why should he live to breed you bad reports? + Let him die first. + +QUEEN. + Sweet, for your sake, not so. + +DARNLEY. + Fret not yourself to pity; let him die. + +QUEEN. + Come, let him live a little; it shall be + A grace to us. + +DARNLEY. + By God he dies at once. + +QUEEN. + Now, by God's mother, if I respite him, + Though you were all the race of you in one + And had more tongues than hairs to cry on me + He should not lose a hair. + +DARNLEY. + This is mere mercy-- + But you thank God you love him not a whit? + +QUEEN. + It shall be what it please; and if I please + It shall be anything. Give me the warrant. + +DARNLEY. + Nay, for your sake and love of you, not I, + To make it dangerous. + +QUEEN. + O, God' pity, sir! + You are tender of me; will you serve me so, + Against mine own will, show me so much love, + Do me good service that I loath being done, + Out of pure pity? + +DARNLEY. + Nay, your word shall stand. + +QUEEN. + What makes you gape so beastlike after blood? + Were you not bred up on some hangman's hire + And dicted with fleshmeats at his hand + And fed into a fool? Give me that paper. + +DARNLEY. + Now for that word I will not. + +QUEEN. + Nay, sweet love, + For your own sake be just a little wise; + Come, I beseech you. + +DARNLEY. + Pluck not at my hands. + +QUEEN. + No, that I will not: I am brain-broken, mad; + Pity my madness for sweet marriage-sake + And my great love's; I love you to say this; + I would not have you cross me, out of love. + But for true love should I not chafe indeed? + And now I do not. + +DARNLEY. + Yea, and late you chid, + You chafed and jested and blew soft and hard-- + No, for that "fool" you shall not fool me so. + +QUEEN. + You are no churl, sweet, will you see me weep? + Look, I weep now; be friends with my poor tears, + Think each of them beseeches you of love + And hath some tongue to cry on you for love + And speak soft things; for that which loves not you + Is none of mine, not though they grow of grief + And grief of you; be not too hard with them. + You would not of your own heart slay a man; + Nay, if you will, in God's name make me weep, + I will not hate you; but at heart, sweet lord, + Be not at heart my sweet heart's enemy. + If I had many mighty men to friend + I would not plead too lovingly with you + To have your love. + +DARNLEY. + Why, yet you have my love. + +QUEEN. + Alas, what shall mine enemies do to me + If he be used so hardly of my friends? + Come, sir, you hate me; yet for all your hate + You cannot have such heart. + +DARNLEY. + What sort of heart? + I have no heart to be used shamefully + If you mean that. + +QUEEN. + Would God I loved you not; + You are too hard to be used lovingly. + +DARNLEY. + You are moved too much for such a little love + As you bear me. + +QUEEN. + God knows you do me wrong; + God knows the heart, sweet, that I love you with. + Hark you, fair sir, I'd have all well with you; + Do you not fear at sick men's time of night + What end may come? are you so sure of heart? + Is not your spirit surprisable in sleep? + Have you no evil dreams? Nay, look you, love, + I will not be flung off you heart and hand, + I am no snake: but tell me for your love + Have you no fancies how these things will end + In the pit's mouth? how all life-deeds will look + At the grave's edge that lets men into hell? + For my part, who am weak and woman-eyed, + It turns my soul tears: I doubt this blood + Fallen on our faces when we twain are dead + Will scar and burn them: yea, for heaven is sweet, + And loves sweet deeds that smell not of split blood. + Let us not kill: God that made mercy first + Pities the pitiful for their deed's sake. + +DARNLEY. + Get you some painting; with a cheek like this + You'll find no faith in listeners. + +QUEEN. + How, fair lord? + +DARNLEY. + I say that looking with this face of yours + None shall believe you holy; what, you talk, + Take mercy in your mouth, eat holiness, + Put God under your tongue and feed on heaven, + With fear and faith and-faith, I know not what-- + And look as though you stood and saw men slain + To make you game and laughter; nay, your eyes + Threaten as unto blood. What will you do + To make men take your sweet word? pitiful-- + You are pitiful as he that's hired for death + And loves the slaying yet better than the hire. + +QUEEN. + You are wise that live to threat and tell me so; + Do you love life too much? + +DARNLEY. + O, now you are sweet, + Right tender now: you love not blood nor death, + You are too tender. + +QUEEN. + Yea, too weak, too soft: + Sweet, do not mock me, for my love's sake; see + How soft a thing I am. Will you be hard? + The heart you have, has it no sort of fear? + +DARNLEY. + Take off your hand and let me go my way + And do the deed, and when the doing is past + I will come home and teach you tender things + Out of my love till you forget my wrath. + I will be angry when I see good need, + And will grow gentle after, fear not that: + You shall get no wrong of my wrongdoing. + So I take leave. + +QUEEN. + Take what you will; take all; + You have taken half my heart away with words: + Take all I have, and take no leave; I have + No leave to give: yea, shortly shall lack leave, + I think, to live; but I crave none of you; + I would have none: yet for the love I have, + If I get ever a man to show it you, + I pray God put you some day in my hand + That you may take that too. + +DARNLEY. + Well, as he please; + God keep you in such love; and so farewell. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. + So fare I as your lover, but not well.-- + Ah sweet, if God be ever good to me + To put you in my hand! I am come to shame; + Let me think now, and let my wits not go; + God, for dear mercy, let me not forget + Why I should be so angry; the dull blood + Beats at my face and blinds me-I am chafted to death, + And I am shamed; I shall go mad and die. + Truly I think I did kneel down, did pray, + Yea, weep (who knows?) it may be-all for that. + Yea, if I wept not, this was blood brake forth + And burnt mine eyelids; I will have blood back, + And wash them cool in the hottest of his heart, + Or I will slay myself: I cannot tell: + I have given gold for brass, and lo the pay + Cleaves to my fingers: there's no way to mend-- + Not while life stays: would God that it were gone! + The fool will feed upon my fame and laugh; + Till one seal up his tongue and lips with blood, + He carries half my honor and good name + Between his teeth. Lord God, mine head will fail! + When have I done thus since I was alive? + And these ill times will deal but ill with me-- + My old love slain, and never a new to help, + And my wits gone, and my blithe use of life, + And all the grace was with me. Love-perchance + If I save love I shall well save myself. + I could find heart to bid him take such fellows + And kill them to my hand. I was the fool + To sue to these and shame myself: God knows + I was a queen born, I will hold their heads + Here in my hands for this. Which of you waits? + +[Enter MARY BEATON and MARY CARMICHAEL.] + + No maiden of them?-what, no more than this? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Madam, the lady Seyton is gone forth; + She is ill at heart with watching. + +QUEEN. + Ay, at heart-- + All girls must have such tender sides to the heart + They break for one night's watching, ache to death + For an hour's pity, for a half-hour's love-- + Wear out before the watches, die by dawn, + And ride at noon to burial. God's my pity! + Where's Hamilton? doth she ail too? at heart, + I warrant her at heart. + +MARY BEATON. + I know not, madam. + +QUEEN. + What, sick or dead? I am well holpen of you: + Come hither to me. What pale blood you have-- + Is it for fear you turn such cheeks to me? + Why, if I were so loving, by my hand, + I would have set my head upon the chance, + And loosed him though I died. What will you do? + Have you no way? + +MARY BEATON. + None but your mercy. + +QUEEN. + Ay? + Why then the thing is piteous. Think, for God's sake-- + Is there no loving way to fetch him forth? + Nay, what a white thin-blooded thing is love, + To help no more than this doth! Were I in love, + I would unbar the ways to-night and then + Laugh death to death to-morrow, mock him dead; + I think you love well with one half your heart, + And let fear keep the other. Hark you now, + You said there was some friend durst break my bars-- + Some Scotch name--faith, as if I wist of it! + Ye have such heavy wits to help one with-- + Some man that had some mean to save him by-- + Tush, I must be at pains for you! + +MARY BEATON. + Nay, madam, + It were no boot; he will not be let forth. + +QUEEN. + I say, the name. O, Robert Erskine-yea, + A fellow of some heart: what saith he? + +MARY BEATON. + Madam, + The thing was sound all through, yea, all went well, + But for all prayers that we could make to him + He would not fly: we cannot get him forth. + +QUEEN. + Great God! that men should have such wits as this! + I have a mind to let him die for that; + And yet I wot not. Said he, he loathed his life? + +MARY BEATON. + He says your grace given would scathe yourself, + And little grace for such a grace as that + Be with the little of his life he kept + To cast off some time more unworthily. + +QUEEN. + God help me! what should wise folk do with him? + These men be weaker-witted than mere fools + When they fall mad once; yet by Mary's soul + I am sorrier for him than for men right wise. + God wot a fool that were more wise than he + Would love me something worse than Chastelard, + Ay, and his own soul better. Do you think + (There's no such other sort of fool alive) + That he may live? + +MARY BEATON. + Yea, by God's mercy, madam, + To your great praise and honor from all men + If you should keep him living. + +QUEEN. + By God's light, + I have good will to do it. Are you sure, + If I would pack him with a pardon hence, + He would speak well of me-not hint and halt, + Smile and look back, sigh and say love runs out, + But times have been-with some loose laugh cut short, + Bit off at lip-eh? + +MARY BEATON. + No, by heaven he would not. + +QUEEN. + You know how quickly one may be belied-- + Faith, you should know it-I never thought the worst, + One may touch love and come with clean hands off-- + But you should know it. What, he will not fly-- + Not though I wink myself asleep, turn blind-- + Which that I will I say not? + +MARY BEATON. + Nay, not he; + We had good hope to bring him well aboard, + Let him slip safe down by the firths to sea, + Out under Leith by night-setting, and thence + Take ship for France and serve there out of sight + In the new wars. + +QUEEN. + Ay, in the new French wars-- + You wist thereof too, madam, with good leave-- + A goodly bait to catch mine honor with + And let me wake up with my name bit through. + I had been much bounden to you twain, methinks, + But for my knight's sake and his love's; by God, + He shall not die in God's despite nor mine. + Call in our chief lords; bid one see to it: + Ay, and make haste. + +[Exeunt MARY BEATON and MARY CARMICHAEL.] + + Now shall I try their teeth: + I have done with fear; now nothing but pure love + And power and pity shall have part in me; + I will not throw them such a spirit in flesh + To make their prey on. Though he be mad indeed, + It is the goodliest madness ever smote + Upon man's heart. A kingly knight-in faith, + Meseems my face can yet make faith in men + And break their brains with beauty: for a word, + An eyelid's twitch, an eye's turn, tie them fast + And make their souls cleave to me. God be thanked, + This air has not yet curdled all the blood + That went to make me fair. An hour agone, + I thought I had been forgotten of men's love + More than dead women's faces are forgot + Of after lovers. All men are not of earth: + For all the frost of fools and this cold land + There be some yet catch fever of my face + And burning for mine eyes' sake. I did think + My time was gone when men would dance to death + As to a music, and lie laughing down + In the grave and take their funerals for their feasts, + To get one kiss of me. I have some strength yet, + Though I lack power on men that lack men's blood. + Yea, and God wot I will be merciful; + For all the foolish hardness round my heart + That tender women miss of to their praise, + They shall not say but I had grace to give + Even for love's sake. Why, let them take their way: + What ails it them though I be soft or hard? + Soft hearts would weep and weep and let men die + For very mercy and sweet-heartedness; + I that weep little for my pity's sake, + I have the grace to save men. Let fame go-- + I care not much what shall become of fame, + So I save love and do mine own soul right; + I'll have my mercy help me to revenge + On all the crew of them. How will he look, + Having my pardon! I shall have sweet thanks + And love of good men for my mercy's love-- + Yea, and be quit of these I hate to death, + With one good deed. + +[Enter the MARIES.] + +MARY BEATON. + Madam, the lords are here. + +QUEEN. + Stand you about me, I will speak to them. + I would the whole world stood up in my face + And heard what I shall say. Bid them come in. + +[Enter MURRAY, RANDOLPH, MORTON, LINDSAY, and other LORDS.] + + Hear you, fair lords, I have a word to you; + There is one thing I would fain understand-- + If I be queen or no; for by my life + Methinks I am growing unqueenly. No man speak? + Pray you take note, sweet lord ambassador, + I am no queen: I never was born queen; + Alack, that one should fool us in this wise! + Take up my crown, sir, I will none of it + Till it hath bells on as a fool's cap hath. + Nay, who will have it? no man take it up? + Was there none worthy to be shamed but I? + Here are enow good faces, good to crown; + Will you be king, fair brother? or you, my lord? + Give me a spinner's curch, a wisp of reed, + Any mean thing; but, God's love, no more gold, + And no more shame: let boys throw dice for it, + Or cast it to the grooms for tennis-play, + For I will none. + +MURRAY. + What would your highness have? + +QUEEN. + Yea, yea, I said I was no majesty; + I shall be shortly fallen out of grace. + What would I have? I would have leave to live; + Perchance I shall not shortly: nay, for me + That have no leave to respite other lives + To keep mine own life were small praise enow. + +MURRAY. + Your majesty hath power to respite men, + As we well wot; no man saith otherwise. + +QUEEN. + What, is this true? 't is a thing wonderful-- + So great I cannot be well sure of it. + Strange that a queen should find such grace as this + At such lords' hands as ye be, such great lords: + I pray you let me get assured again, + Lest I take jest for truth and shame myself + And make you mirth: to make your mirth of me, + God wot it were small pains to you, my lords, + But much less honor. I may send reprieve-- + With your sweet leaves I may? + +MURRAY. + Assuredly. + +QUEEN. + Lo, now, what grace is this I have of you! + I had a will to respite Chastelard, + And would not do it for very fear of you: + Look you, I wist not ye were merciful. + + MORTON. + Madam-- + +QUEEN. + My lord, you have a word to me? + Doth it displease you such a man should live? + +MORTON. + 'T were a mad mercy in your majesty + To lay no hand upon his second fault + And let him thrice offend you. + +QUEEN. + Ay, my lord? + + MORTON. + It were well done to muffle lewd men's mouths + By casting of his head into their laps: + It were much best. + +QUEEN. + Yea, truly were it so? + But if I will not, yet I will not, sir, + For all the mouths in Scotland. Now, by heaven, + As I am pleased he shall not die but live, + So shall ye be. There is no man shall die, + Except it please me; and no man shall say, + Except it please me, if I do ill or well. + Which of you now will set his will to mine? + Not you, nor you I think, nor none of you, + Nor no man living that loves living well. + Let one stand forth and smite me with his hand, + Wring my crown off and cast it underfoot, + And he shall get my respite back of me, + And no man else: he shall bid live or die, + And no man else; and he shall be my lord, + And no man else. What, will not one be king? + Will not one here lay hold upon my state? + I am queen of you for all things come and gone. + Nay, my chief lady, and no meaner one, + The chiefest of my maidens, shall bear this + And give it to my prisoner for a grace; + Who shall deny me? who shall do me wrong? + Bear greeting to the lord of Chastelard, + And this withal for respite of his life, + For by my head he shall die no such way: + Nay, sweet, no words, but hence and back again. + +[Exit MARY BEATON.] + + Farewell, dear lords; ye have shown grace to me, + And some time I will thank you as I may; + Till when think well of me and what is done. + + +END OF THE FOURTH ACT. + + + +ACT V. + +CHASTELARD. + + +SCENE I.-Before Holyrood. A crowd of people; +among them Soldiers, Burgesses, a Preacher, &c. + + +1ST CITIZEN. + They are not out yet. Have you seen the man? + What manner of man? + +2D CITIZEN. + Shall he be hanged or no? + There was a fellow hanged some three days gone + Wept the whole way: think you this man shall die + In better sort, now? + +1ST CITIZEN. + Eh, these shawm-players + That walk before strange women and make songs! + How should they die well? + +3D CITIZEN. + Is it sooth men say + Our dame was wont to kiss him on the face + In lewd folk's sight? + +1ST CITIZEN. + Yea, saith one, all day long + He used to sit and jangle words in rhyme + To suit with shakes of faint adulterous sound + Some French lust in men's ears; she made songs too, + Soft things to feed sin's amorous mouth upon-- + Delicate sounds for dancing at in hell. + +4TH CITIZEN. + Is it priest Black that he shall have by him + When they do come? + +3D CITIZEN. + Ah! by God's leave, not so; + If the knave show us his peeled onion's head + And that damned flagging jowl of his-- + +2D CITIZEN. + Nay, sirs, + Take heed of words; moreover, please it you, + This man hath no pope's part in him. + +3D CITIZEN. + I say + That if priest whore's friend with the lewd thief's cheek + Show his foul blinking face to shame all ours, + It goes back fouler; well, one day hell's fire + Will burn him black indeed. + +A WOMAN. + What kind of man? + 'T is yet great pity of him if he be + Goodly enow for this queen's paramour. + A French lord overseas? what doth he here, + With Scotch folk here? + +1ST CITIZEN. + Fair mistress, I think well + He doth so at some times that I were fain + To do as well. + +THE WOMAN. + Nay, then he will not die. + +1ST CITIZEN. + Why, see you, if one eat a piece of bread + Baked as it were a certain prophet's way, + Not upon coals, now--you shall apprehend-- + If defiled bread be given a man to eat, + Being thrust into his mouth, why he shall eat, + And with good hap shall eat; but if now, say, + One steal this, bread and beastliness and all, + When scarcely for pure hunger flesh and bone + Cleave one to other--why, if he steal to eat, + Be it even the filthiest feeding-though the man + Be famine-flayed of flesh and skin, I say + He shall be hanged. + +3D CITIZEN. + Nay, stolen said you, sir? + See, God bade eat abominable bread, + And freely was it eaten--for a sign + This, for a sign--and doubtless as did God, + So may the devil; bid one eat freely and live, + Not for a sign. + +2D CITIZEN. + Will you think thus of her? + But wherefore should they get this fellow slain + If he be clear toward her? + +3D CITIZEN. + Sir, one must see + The day comes when a woman sheds her sin + As a bird moults; and she being shifted so, + The old mate of her old feather pecks at her + To get the right bird back; then she being stronger + Picks out his eyes-eh? + +2D CITIZEN. + Like enough to be; + But if it be--Is not one preaching there + With certain folk about him? + +1ST CITIZEN. + Yea, the same + Who preached a month since from Ezekiel + Concerning these twain-this our queen that is + And her that was, and is not now so much + As queen over hell's worm. + +3D CITIZEN. + Ay, said he not, + This was Aholah, the first one of these, + Called sisters only for a type--being twain, + Twain Maries, no whit Nazarine? the first + Bred out of Egypt like the water-worm + With sides in wet green places baked with slime + And festered flesh that steams against the sun; + A plague among all people, and a type + Set as a flake upon a leper's fell. + +1ST CITIZEN. + Yea, said he, and unto her the men went in, + The men of Pharaoh's, beautiful with red + And with red gold, fair foreign-footed men, + The bountiful fair men, the courteous men, + The delicate men with delicate feet, that went + Curling their small beards Agag-fashion, yea + Pruning their mouths to nibble words behind + With pecking at God's skirts-small broken oaths + Fretted to shreds between most dainty lips, + And underbreath some praise of Ashtaroth + Sighed laughingly. + +2D CITIZEN. + Was he not under guard + For the good word? + +1ST CITIZEN. + Yea, but now forth again.-- + And of the latter said he--there being two, + The first Aholah, which interpreted-- + +3D CITIZEN. + But, of this latter? + +1ST CITIZEN. + Well, of her he said + How she made letters for Chaldean folk + And men that came forth of the wilderness + And all her sister's chosen men; yea, she + Kept not her lip from any sin of hers + But multiplied in whoredoms toward all these + That hate God mightily; for these, he saith, + These are the fair French people, and these her kin + Sought out of England with her love-letters + To bring them to her kiss of love; and thus + With a prayer made that God would break such love + Ended some while; then crying out for strong wrath + Spake with a great voice after: This is she, + Yea the lewd woman, yea the same woman + That gat bruised breasts in Egypt, when strange men + Swart from great suns, foot-burnt with angry soils + And strewn with sand of gaunt Chaldean miles, + Poured all their love upon her: she shall drink + The Lord's cup of derision that is filled + With drunkenness and sorrow, great of sides + And deep to drink in till the dreg drips out: + Yea, and herself with the twain shards thereof + Pluck off her breasts; so said he. + +4TH CITIZEN. + See that stir-- + Are not they come? + +3D CITIZEN. + There wants an hour of them. + Draw near and let us hearken; he will speak + Surely some word of this. + +2D CITIZEN. + What saith he now? + +THE PREACHER. + The mercy of a harlot is a sword; + And her mouth sharper than a flame of fire. + + +SCENE II.--In Prison. + + +CHASTELARD. + So here my time shuts up; and the last light + Has made the last shade in the world for me. + The sunbeam that was narrow like a leaf + Has turned a hand, and the hand stretched to an arm, + And the arm has reached the dust on the floor, and made + A maze of motes with paddling fingers. Well, + I knew now that a man so sure to die + Could care so little; a bride-night's lustiness + Leaps in my veins as light fire under a wind: + As if I felt a kindling beyond death + Of some new joys far outside of me yet; + Sweet sound, sweet smell and touch of things far out + Sure to come soon. I wonder will death be + Even all it seems now? or the talk of hell + And wretched changes of the worn-out soul + Nailed to decaying flesh, shall that be true? + Or is this like the forethought of deep sleep + Felt by a tired man? Sleep were good enough-- + Shall sleep be all? But I shall not forget + For any sleep this love bound upon me-- + For any sleep or quiet ways of death. + Ah, in my weary dusty space of sight + Her face will float with heavy scents of hair + And fire of subtle amorous eyes, and lips + More hot than wine, full of sweet wicked words + Babbled against mine own lips, and long hands + Spread out, and pale bright throat and pale bright breasts, + Fit to make all men mad. I do believe + This fire shall never quite burn out to the ash + And leave no heat and flame upon my dust + For witness where a man's heart was burnt up. + For all Christ's work this Venus is not quelled, + But reddens at the mouth with blood of men, + Sucking between small teeth the sap o' the veins, + Dabbling with death her little tender lips-- + A bitter beauty, poisonous-pearled mouth. + I am not fit to live but for love's sake, + So I were best die shortly. Ah, fair love, + Fair fearful Venus made of deadly foam, + I shall escape you somehow with my death-- + Your splendid supple body and mouth on fire + And Paphian breath that bites the lips with heat. + I had best die. + +[Enter MARY BEATON.] + + What, is my death's time come, + And you the friend to make death kind to me? + 'T is sweetly done; for I was sick for this. + +MARY BEATON. + Nay, but see here; nay, for you shall not die: + She has reprieved you; look, her name to that, + A present respite; I was sure of her: + You are quite safe: here, take it in your hands: + I am faint with the end of pain. Read there. + +CHASTELARD. + Reprieve? + Wherefore reprieve? Who has done this to me? + +MARY BEATON. + I never feared but God would have you live, + Or I knew well God must have punished me; + But I feared nothing, had no sort of fear. + What makes you stare upon the seal so hard? + Will you not read now? + +CHASTELARD. + A reprieve of life-- + Reprieving me from living. Nay, by God, + I count one death a bitter thing enough. + +MARY BEATON. + See what she writes; you love; for love of you; + Out of her love; a word to save your life: + But I knew this too though you love me not: + She is your love; I knew that: yea, by heaven. + +CHASTELARD. + You knew I had to live and be reprieved: + Say I were bent to die now? + +MARY BEATON. + Do not die, + For her sweet love's sake; not for pity of me, + You would not bear with life for me one hour; + But for hers only. + +CHASTELARD. + Nay, I love you well, + I would not hurt you for more lives than one. + But for this fair-faced paper of reprieve, + We'll have no riddling to make death shift sides: + Look, here ends one of us. + +[Tearing it.] + + For her I love, + She will not anger heaven with slaying me; + For me, I am well quit of loving her; + For you, I pray you be well comforted, + Seeing in my life no man gat good by me + And by my death no hurt is any man's. + +MARY BEATON. + And I that loved you? nay, I loved you; nay, + Why should your like be pitied when they love? + Her hard heart is not yet so hard as yours, + Nor God's hard heart. I care not if you die. + These bitter madmen are not fit to live. + I will not have you touch me, speak to me, + Nor take farewell of you. See you die well, + Or death will play with shame for you, and win, + And laugh you out of life. I am right glad + I never am to see you any more, + For I should come to hate you easily; + I would not have you live. + +[Exit.] + +CHASTELARD. + She has cause enow. + I would this wretched waiting had an end, + For I wax feebler than I was: God knows + I had a mind once to have saved this flesh + And made life one with shame. It marvels me + This girl that loves me should desire so much + To have me sleep with shame for bedfellow + A whole life's space; she would be glad to die + To escape such life. It may be too her love + Is but an amorous quarrel with herself, + Not love of me but her own wilful soul; + Then she will live and be more glad of this + Than girls of their own will and their heart's love + Before love mars them: so God go with her! + For mine own love-I wonder will she come + Sad at her mouth a little, with drawn cheeks + And eyelids wrinkled up? or hot and quick + To lean her head on mine and leave her lips + Deep in my neck? For surely she must come; + And I should fare the better to be sure + What she will do. But as it please my sweet; + For some sweet thing she must do if she come, + Seeing how I have to die. Now three years since + This had not seemed so good an end for me; + But in some wise all things wear round betimes + And wind up well. Yet doubtless she might take + A will to come my way and hold my hands + And kiss me some three kisses, throat, mouth, eyes, + And say some soft three words to soften death: + I do not see how this should break her ease. + Nay, she will come to get her warrant back: + By this no doubt she is sorely penitent, + Her fit of angry mercy well blown out + And her wits cool again. She must have chafed + A great while through for anger to become + So like pure pity; they must have fretted her + Night mad for anger: or it may be mistrust, + She is so false; yea, to my death I think + She will not trust me; alas the hard sweet heart! + As if my lips could hurt her any way + But by too keenly kissing of her own. + Ah false poor sweet fair lips that keep no faith, + They shall not catch mine false or dangerous; + They must needs kiss me one good time, albeit + They love me not at all. Lo, here she comes, + For the blood leaps and catches at my face; + There go her feet and tread upon my heart; + Now shall I see what way I am to die. + +[Enter the QUEEN.] + +QUEEN. + What, is one here? Speak to me for God's sake: + Where are you lain? + +CHASTELARD. + Here, madam, at your hand. + +QUEEN. + Sweet lord, what sore pain have I had for you + And been most patient!--Nay, you are not bound. + If you be gentle to me, take my hand. + Do you not hold me the worst heart in the world? + Nay, you must needs; but say not yet you do. + I am worn so weak I know not how I live: + Reach me your hand. + +CHASTELARD. + Take comfort and good heart; + All will find end; this is some grief to you, + But you shall overlive it. Come, fair love; + Be of fair cheer: I say you have done no wrong. + +QUEEN. + I will not be of cheer: I have done a thing + That will turn fire and burn me. Tell me not; + If you will do me comfort, whet your sword. + But if you hate me, tell me of soft things, + For I hate these, and bitterly. Look up; + Am I not mortal to be gazed upon? + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, mortal, and not hateful. + +QUEEN. + O lost heart! + Give me some mean to die by. + +CHASTELARD. + Sweet, enough. + You have made no fault; life is not worth a world + That you should weep to take it: would mine were, + And I might give you a world-worthier gift + Than one poor head that love has made a spoil; + Take it for jest, and weep not: let me go, + And think I died of chance or malady. + Nay, I die well; one dies not best abed. + +QUEEN. + My warrant to reprieve you--that you saw? + That came between your hands? + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, not long since. + It seems you have no will to let me die. + +QUEEN. + Alas, you know I wrote it with my heart, + Out of pure love; and since you were in bonds + I have had such grief for love's sake and my heart's-- + Yea, by my life I have--I could not choose + But give love way a little. Take my hand; + You know it would have pricked my heart's blood out + To write reprieve with. + +CHASTELARD. + Sweet, your hands are kind; + Lay them about my neck, upon my face, + And tell me not of writing. + +QUEEN. + Nay, by heaven, + I would have given you mine own blood to drink + If that could heal you of your soul-sickness. + Yea, they know that, they curse me for your sake, + Rail at my love--would God their heads were lopped + And we twain left together this side death! + But look you, sweet, if this my warrant hold + You are but dead and shamed; for you must die, + And they will slay you shamefully by force + Even in my sight. + +CHASTELARD. + Faith, I think so they will. + +QUEEN. + Nay, they would slay me too, cast stones at me, + Drag me alive--they have eaten poisonous words, + They are mad and have no shame. + +CHASTELARD. + Ay, like enough. + +QUEEN. + Would God my heart were greater; but God wot + I have no heart to bear with fear and die. + Yea, and I cannot help you: or I know + I should be nobler, bear a better heart: + But as this stands--I pray you for good love, + As you hold honor a costlier thing than life-- + +CHASTELARD. + Well? + +QUEEN. + Nay, I would not be denied for shame; + In brief, I pray you give me that again. + +CHASTELARD. + What, my reprieve? + +QUEEN. + Even so; deny me not, + For your sake mainly: yea, by God you know + How fain I were to die in your death's stead. + For your name's sake. This were no need to swear. + Lest we be mocked to death with a reprieve, + And so both die, being shamed. What, shall I swear? + What, if I kiss you? must I pluck it out? + You do not love me: no, nor honor. Come + I know you have it about you: give it me. + +CHASTELARD. + I cannot yield you such a thing again; + Not as I had it. + +QUEEN. + A coward? what shift now? + Do such men make such cravens? + +CHASTELARD. + Chide me not: + Pity me that I cannot help my heart. + +QUEEN. + Heaven mend mine eyes that took you for a man! + What, is it sewn into your flesh? take heed-- + Nay, but for shame--what have you done with it? + +CHASTELARD. + Why, there it lies, torn up. + +QUEEN. + God help me, sir! + Have you done this? + +CHASTELARD. + Yea, sweet; what should I do? + Did I not know you to the bone, my sweet? + God speed you well! you have a goodly lord. + +QUEEN. + My love, sweet love, you are more fair than he, + Yea, fairer many times: I love you much, + Sir, know you that. + +CHASTELARD. + I think I know that well. + Sit here a little till I feel you through + In all my breath and blood for some sweet while. + O gracious body that mine arms have had, + And hair my face has felt on it! grave eyes + And low thick lids that keep since years agone + In the blue sweet of each particular vein + Some special print of me! I am right glad + That I must never feel a bitterer thing + Than your soft curled-up shoulder and amorous arms + From this time forth; nothing can hap to me + Less good than this for all my whole life through. + I would not have some new pain after this + Come spoil the savor. O, your round bird's throat, + More soft than sleep or singing; your calm cheeks, + Turned bright, turned wan with kisses hard and hot; + The beautiful color of your deep curved hands, + Made of a red rose that had changed to white; + That mouth mine own holds half the sweetness of, + Yea, my heart holds the sweetness of it, whence + My life began in me; mine that ends here + Because you have no mercy, nay you know + You never could have mercy. My fair love, + Kiss me again, God loves you not the less; + Why should one woman have all goodly things? + You have all beauty; let mean women's lips + Be pitiful, and speak truth: they will not be + Such perfect things as yours. Be not ashamed + That hands not made like these that snare men's souls + Should do men good, give alms, relieve men's pain; + You have the better, being more fair than they, + They are half foul, being rather good than fair; + You are quite fair: to be quite fair is best. + Why, two nights hence I dreamed that I could see + In through your bosom under the left flower, + And there was a round hollow, and at heart + A little red snake sitting, without spot, + That bit--like this, and sucked up sweet--like this, + And curled its lithe light body right and left, + And quivered like a woman in act to love. + Then there was some low fluttered talk i' the lips, + Faint sound of soft fierce words caressing them-- + Like a fair woman's when her love gets way. + Ah, your old kiss--I know the ways of it: + Let the lips cling a little. Take them off, + And speak some word or I go mad with love. + +QUEEN. + Will you not have my chaplain come to you? + +CHASTELARD. + Some better thing of yours--some handkerchief, + Some fringe of scarf to make confession to-- + You had some book about you that fell out-- + +QUEEN. + A little written book of Ronsard's rhymes, + His gift, I wear in there for love of him-- + See, here between our feet. + +CHASTELARD. + Ay, my old lord's-- + The sweet chief poet, my dear friend long since? + Give me the book. Lo you, this verse of his: + With coming lilies in late April came + Her body, fashioned whiter for their shame; + And roses, touched with blood since Adon bled, + From her fair color filled their lips with red: + A goodly praise: I could not praise you so. + I read that while your marriage-feast went on. + Leave me this book, I pray you: I would read + The hymn of death here over ere I die; + I shall know soon how much he knew of death + When that was written. One thing I know now, + I shall not die with half a heart at least, + Nor shift my face, nor weep my fault alive, + Nor swear if I might live and do new deeds + I would do better. Let me keep the book. + +QUEEN. + Yea, keep it: as would God you had kept your life + Out of mine eyes and hands. I am wrong to the heart: + This hour feels dry and bitter in my mouth, + As if its sorrow were my body's food + More than my soul's. There are bad thoughts in me-- + Most bitter fancies biting me like birds + That tear each other. Suppose you need not die? + +CHASTELARD. + You know I cannot live for two hours more. + Our fate was made thus ere our days were made: + Will you fight fortune for so small a grief? + But for one thing I were full fain of death. + +QUEEN. + What thing is that? + +CHASTELARD. + No need to name the thing. + Why, what can death do with me fit to fear? + For if I sleep I shall not weep awake; + Or if their saying be true of things to come, + Though hell be sharp, in the worst ache of it + I shall be eased so God will give me back + Sometimes one golden gracious sight of you-- + The aureole woven flowerlike through your hair, + And in your lips the little laugh as red + As when it came upon a kiss and ceased, + Touching my mouth. + +QUEEN. + As I do now, this way, + With my heart after: would I could shed tears, + Tears should not fail when the heart shudders so. + But your bad thought? + +CHASTELARD. + Well, such a thought as this: + It may be, long time after I am dead, + For all you are, you may see bitter days; + God may forget you or be wroth with you: + Then shall you lack a little help of me, + And I shall feel your sorrow touching you, + A happy sorrow, though I may not touch: + I that would fain be turned to flesh again, + Fain get back life to give up life for you, + To shed my blood for help, that long ago + You shed and were not holpen: and your heart + Will ache for help and comfort, yea for love, + And find less love than mine--for I do think + You never will be loved thus in your life. + +QUEEN. + It may be man will never love me more; + For I am sure I shall not love man twice. + +CHASTELARD. + I know not: men must love you in life's spite; + For you will always kill them; man by man + Your lips will bite them dead; yea, though you would, + You shall not spare one; all will die of you; + I cannot tell what love shall do with these, + But I for all my love shall have no might + To help you more, mine arms and hands no power + To fasten on you more. This cleaves my heart, + That they shall never touch your body more. + But for your grief--you will not have to grieve; + For being in such poor eyes so beautiful + It must needs be as God is more than I + So much more love he hath of you than mine; + Yea, God shall not be bitter with my love, + Seeing she is so sweet. + +QUEEN. + Ah my sweet fool, + Think you when God will ruin me for sin + My face of color shall prevail so much + With him, so soften the toothed iron's edge + To save my throat a scar? nay, I am sure + I shall die somehow sadly. + +CHASTELARD. + This is pure grief; + The shadow of your pity for my death, + Mere foolishness of pity: all sweet moods + Throw out such little shadows of themselves, + Leave such light fears behind. You, die like me? + Stretch your throat out that I may kiss all round + Where mine shall be cut through: suppose my mouth + The axe-edge to bite so sweet a throat in twain + With bitter iron, should not it turn soft + As lip is soft to lip? + +QUEEN. + I am quite sure + I shall die sadly some day, Chastelard; + I am quite certain. + +CHASTELARD. + Do not think such things; + Lest all my next world's memories of you be + As heavy as this thought. + +QUEEN. + I will not grieve you; + Forgive me that my thoughts were sick with grief. + What can I do to give you ease at heart? + Shall I kiss now? I pray you have no fear + But that I love you. + +CHASTELARD. + Turn your face to me; + I do not grudge your face this death of mine; + It is too fair--by God, you are too fair. + What noise is that? + +QUEEN. + Can the hour be through so soon? + I bade them give me but a little hour. + Ah! I do love you! such brief space for love! + I am yours all through, do all your will with me; + What if we lay and let them take us fast, + Lips grasping lips? I dare do anything. + +CHASTELARD. + Show better cheer: let no man see you mazed; + Make haste and kiss me; cover up your throat + Lest one see tumbled lace and prate of it. + +[Enter the Guard: MURRAY, DARNLEY, MARY +HAMILTON, MARY BEATON, and others with them.] + +DARNLEY. + Sirs, do your charge; let him not have much time. + +MARY HAMILTON. + Peace, lest you chafe the queen: look, her brows bend. + +CHASTELARD. + Lords, and all you come hither for my sake, + If while my life was with me like a friend + That I must now forget the friendship of, + I have done a wrong to any man of you, + As it may be by fault of mine I have; + Of such an one I crave for courtesy + He will now cast it from his mind and heed + Like a dead thing; considering my dead fault + Worth no remembrance further than my death. + This for his gentle honor and goodwill + I do beseech him, doubting not to find + Such kindliness if he be nobly made + And of his birth a courteous race of man. + You, my Lord James, if you have aught toward me-- + Or you, Lord Darnley--I dare fear no jot, + Whate'er this be wherein you were aggrieved, + But you will pardon all for gentleness. + +DARNLEY. + For my part--yea, well, if the thing stand thus, + As you must die--one would not bear folk hard-- + And if the rest shall hold it honorable, + Why, I do pardon you. + +MURRAY. + Sir, in all things + We find no cause to speak of you but well: + For all I see, save this your deadly fault, + I hold you for a noble perfect man. + +CHASTELARD. + I thank you, fair lord, for your nobleness. + You likewise, for the courtesy you have + I give you thanks, sir; and to all these lords + That have not heart to load me at my death. + Last, I beseech of the best queen of men + And royallest fair lady in the world + To pardon me my grievous mortal sin + Done in such great offence of her: for, sirs, + If ever since I came between her eyes + She hath beheld me other than I am + Or shown her honor other than it is, + Or, save in royal faultless courtesies, + Used me with favor; if by speech or face, + By salutation or by tender eyes, + She hath made a way for my desire to live, + Given ear to me or boldness to my breath; + I pray God cast me forth before day cease + Even to the heaviest place there is in hell. + Yea, if she be not stainless toward all men, + I pray this axe that I shall die upon + May cut me off body and soul from heaven. + Now for my soul's sake I dare pray to you; + Forgive me, madam. + +QUEEN. + Yea, I do, fair sir: + With all my heart in all I pardon you. + +CHASTELARD. + God thank you for great mercies. Lords, set hence; + I am right loth to hold your patience here; + I must not hold much longer any man's. + Bring me my way and bid me fare well forth. + +[As they pass out the QUEEN stays MARY BEATON.] + +QUEEN. + Hark hither, sweet. Get back to Holyrood + And take Carmichael with you: go both up + In some chief window whence the squares lie clear-- + Seem not to know what I shall do--mark that-- + And watch how things fare under. Have good cheer; + You do not think now I can let him die? + Nay, this were shameful madness if you did, + And I should hate you. + +MARY BEATON. + Pray you love me, madam, + And swear you love me and will let me live, + That I may die the quicker. + +QUEEN. + Nay, sweet, see, + Nay, you shall see, this must not seem devised; + I will take any man with me, and go; + Yea, for pure hate of them that hate him: yea, + Lay hold upon the headsman and bid strike + Here on my neck; if they will have him die, + Why, I will die too: queens have died this way + For less things than his love is. Nay, I know + They want no blood; I will bring swords to boot + For dear love's rescue though half earth were slain; + What should men do with blood? Stand fast at watch; + For I will be his ransom if I die. + +[Exeunt.] + + + +SCENE III.--The Upper Chamber in Holyrood. + +MARY BEATON seated; MARY CARMICHAEL at a window. + + +MARY BEATON. + Do you see nothing? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Nay, but swarms of men + And talking women gathered in small space, + Flapping their gowns and gaping with fools' eyes: + And a thin ring round one that seems to speak, + Holding his hands out eagerly; no more. + +MARY BEATON. + Why, I hear more, I hear men shout The Queen. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Nay, no cries yet. + +MARY BEATON. + Ah, they will cry out soon + When she comes forth; they should cry out on her; + I hear their crying in my heart. Nay, sweet, + Do not you hate her? all men, if God please, + Shall hate her one day; yea, one day no doubt + I shall worse hate her. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Pray you, be at peace; + You hurt yourself: she will be merciful; + What, could you see a true man slain for you? + I think I could not; it is not like our hearts + To have such hard sides to them. + +MARY BEATON. + O, not you, + And I could nowise; there's some blood in her + That does not run to mercy as ours doth: + That fair face and the cursed heart in her + Made keener than a knife for manslaying + Can bear strange things. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Peace, for the people come. + Ah--Murray, hooded over half his face + With plucked-down hat, few folk about him, eyes + Like a man angered; Darnley after him, + Holding our Hamilton above her wrist, + His mouth put near her hair to whisper with-- + And she laughs softly, looking at her feet. + +MARY BEATON. + She will not live long; God hath given her + Few days and evil, full of hate and love, + I see well now. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Hark, there's their cry--The Queen! + Fair life and long, and good days to the Queen! + +MARY BEATON. + Yea, but God knows. I feel such patience here + As I were sure in a brief while to die. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + She bends and laughs a little, graciously, + And turns half, talking to I know not whom-- + A big man with great shoulders; ah, the face, + You get his face now--wide and duskish, yea + The youth burnt out of it. A goodly man, + Thewed mightily and sunburnt to the bone; + Doubtless he was away in banishment, + Or kept some march far off. + +MARY BEATON. + Still you see nothing? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Yea, now they bring him forth with a great noise, + The folk all shouting and men thrust about + Each way from him. + +MARY BEATON. + Ah, Lord God, bear with me, + Help me to bear a little with my love + For thine own love, or give me some quick death. + Do not come down; I shall get strength again, + Only my breath fails. Looks he sad or blithe? + Not sad I doubt yet. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Nay, not sad a whit, + But like a man who losing gold or lands + Should lose a heavy sorrow; his face set, + The eyes not curious to the right or left, + And reading in a book, his hands unbound, + With short fleet smiles. The whole place catches breath, + Looking at him; she seems at point to speak: + Now she lies back, and laughs, with her brows drawn + And her lips drawn too. Now they read his crime-- + I see the laughter tightening her chin: + Why do you bend your body and draw breath? + They will not slay him in her sight; I am sure + She will not have him slain. + +MARY BEATON. + Forth, and fear not: + I was just praying to myself--one word, + A prayer I have to say for her to God + If he will mind it. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Now he looks her side; + Something he says, if one could hear thus far: + She leans out, lengthening her throat to hear + And her eyes shining. + +MARY BEATON. + Ah, I had no hope: + Yea thou God knowest that I had no hope. + Let it end quickly. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Now his eyes are wide + And his smile great; and like another smile + The blood fills all his face. Her cheek and neck + Work fast and hard; she must have pardoned him, + He looks so merrily. Now he comes forth + Out of that ring of people and kneels down; + Ah, how the helve and edge of the great axe + Turn in the sunlight as the man shifts hands-- + It must be for a show: because she sits + And hardly moves her head this way--I see + Her chin and lifted lips. Now she stands up, + Puts out her hand, and they fall muttering; + Ah! + +MARY BEATON. + Is it done now? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + For God's love, stay there; + Do not look out. Nay, he is dead by this; + But gather up yourself from off the floor; + Will she die too? I shut mine eyes and heard-- + Sweet, do not beat your face upon the ground. + Nay, he is dead and slain. + +MARY BEATON. + What, slain indeed? + I knew he would be slain. Ay, through the neck: + I knew one must be smitten through the neck + To die so quick: if one were stabbed to the heart, + He would die slower. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Will you behold him dead? + +MARY BEATON. + Yea: must a dead man not be looked upon + That living one was fain of? give me way. + Lo you, what sort of hair this fellow had; + The doomsman gathers it into his hand + To grasp the head by for all men to see; + I never did that. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + For God's love, let me go. + +MARY BEATON. + I think sometimes she must have held it so, + Holding his head back, see you, by the hair + To kiss his face, still lying in his arms. + Ay, go and weep: it must be pitiful + If one could see it. What is this they say? + So perish the Queen's traitors! Yea, but so + Perish the Queen! God, do thus much to her + For his sake only: yea, for pity's sake + Do thus much with her. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. + Prithee come in with me: + Nay, come at once. + +MARY BEATON. + If I should meet with her + And spit upon her at her coming in-- + But if I live then shall I see one day + When God will smite her lying harlot's mouth-- + Surely I shall. Come, I will go with you; + We will sit down together face to face + Now, and keep silence; for this life is hard, + And the end of it is quietness at last. + Come, let us go: here is no word to say. + + AN USHER. + Make way there for the lord of Bothwell; room-- + Place for my lord of Bothwell next the queen. + + + +EXPLICIT + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Chastelard, a Tragedy, by +Algernon Charles Swinburne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHASTELARD, A TRAGEDY *** + +***** This file should be named 2379.txt or 2379.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/7/2379/ + +Produced by Tony Adam + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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(author's edition) + + + + PERSONS. + +MARY STUART. +MARY BEATON. +MARY SEYTON. +MARY CARMICHAEL. +MARY HAMILTON. +PIERRE DE BOSCOSEL DE CHASTELARD. +DARNLEY. +MURRAY. +RANDOLPH. +MORTON. +LINDSAY. +FATHER BLACK. + +Guards, Burgesses, a Preacher, Citizens, &c. + + + +Another Yle is there toward the Northe, in the See Occean, +where that ben fulle cruele and ful evele Wommen of Nature: +and thei han precious Stones in hire Eyen; and their ben of +that kynde, that zif they beholden ony man, thei slen him anon +with the beholdynge, as dothe the Basilisk. + +MAUNDEVILE'S Voiage and Travaile, Ch. xxviii. + + + + + I DEDICATE THIS PLAY, +AS A PARTIAL EXPRESSION OF REVERENCE + AND GRATITUDE, + TO THE CHIEF OF LIVING POETS; + TO THE FIRST DRAMATIST OF HIS AGE; + TO THE GREATEST EXILE, AND THEREFORE + TO THE GREATEST MAN OF FRANCE; + TO + VICTOR HUGO. + + + +ACT I. + +MARY BEATON. + + + +SCENE I.--The Upper Chamber in Holyrood. + +The four MARIES. + + + +MARY BEATON (sings):-- + +1. +Le navire +Est a l'eau; +Entends rire +Ce gros flot +Que fait luire +Et bruire +Le vieux sire +Aquilo. + +2. +Dans l'espace +Du grand air +Le vent passe +Comme un fer; +Siffle et sonne, +Tombe et tonne, +Prend et donne +A la mer. + + +3. +Vois, la brise +Tourne au nord, +Et la bise +Souffle et mord +Sur ta pure +Chevelure +Qui murmure +Et se tord. + +MARY HAMILTON. +You never sing now but it makes you sad; +Why do you sing? + +MARY BEATON. +I hardly know well why; +It makes me sad to sing, and very sad +To hold my peace. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +I know what saddens you. + +MARY BEATON. +Prithee, what? what? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Why, since we came from France, +You have no lover to make stuff for songs. + +MARY BEATON. +You are wise; for there my pain begins indeed, +Because I have no lovers out of France. + +MARY SEYTON. +I mind me of one Olivier de Pesme, +(You knew him, sweet,) a pale man with short hair, +Wore tied at sleeve the Beaton color. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Blue-- +I know, blue scarfs. I never liked that knight. + +MARY HAMILTON. +Me? I know him? I hardly knew his name. +Black, was his hair? no, brown. + +MARY SEYTON. +Light pleases you: +I have seen the time brown served you well enough. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Lord Darnley's is a mere maid's yellow. + +MARY HAMILTON. +No, +A man's, good color. + +MARY SEYTON. +Ah, does that burn your blood? +Why, what a bitter color is this read +That fills your face! if you be not in love, +I am no maiden. + +MARY HAMILTON. +Nay, God help true hearts! +I must be stabbed with love then, to the bone, +Yea to the spirit, past cure. + +MARY SEYTON. +What were you saying? +I see some jest run up and down your lips. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Finish your song; I know you have more of it; +Good sweet, I pray you do. + +MARY BEATON. +I am too sad. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +This will not sadden you to sing; your song +Tastes sharp of sea and the sea's bitterness, +But small pain sticks on it. + +MARY BEATON. +Nay, it is sad; +For either sorrow with the beaten lips +Sings not at all, or if it does get breath +Sings quick and sharp like a hard sort of mirth: +And so this song does; or I would it did, +That it might please me better than it does. + +MARY SEYTON. +Well, as you choose then. What a sort of men +Crowd all about the squares! + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Ay, hateful men; +For look how many talking mouths be there, +So many angers show their teeth at us. +Which one is that, stooped somewhat in the neck, +That walks so with his chin against the wind, +Lips sideways shut? a keen-faced man--lo there, +He that walks midmost. + +MARY SEYTON. +That is Master Knox. +He carries all these folk within his skin, +Bound up as 't were between the brows of him +Like a bad thought; their hearts beat inside his; +They gather at his lips like flies in the sun, +Thrust sides to catch his face. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Look forth; so--push +The window--further--see you anything? + +MARY HAMILTON. +They are well gone; but pull the lattice in, +The wind is like a blade aslant. Would God +I could get back one day I think upon: +The day we four and some six after us +Sat in that Louvre garden and plucked fruits +To cast love-lots with in the gathered grapes; +This way: you shut your eyes and reach and pluck, +And catch a lover for each grape you get. +I got but one, a green one, and it broke +Between my fingers and it ran down through them. + +MARY SEYTON. +Ay, and the queen fell in a little wrath +Because she got so many, and tore off +Some of them she had plucked unwittingly-- +She said, against her will. What fell to you? + +MARY BEATON. +Me? nothing but the stalk of a stripped bunch +With clammy grape-juice leavings at the tip. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Ay, true, the queen came first and she won all; +It was her bunch we took to cheat you with. +What, will you weep for that now? for you seem +As one that means to weep. God pardon me! +I think your throat is choking up with tears. +You are not well, sweet, for a lying jest +To shake you thus much. + +MARY BEATON. +I am well enough: +Give not your pity trouble for my sake. + +MARY SEYTON. +If you be well sing out your song and laugh, +Though it were but to fret the fellows there.-- +Now shall we catch her secret washed and wet +In the middle of her song; for she must weep +If she sing through. + +MARY HAMILTON. +I told you it was love; +I watched her eyes all through the masquing time +Feed on his face by morsels; she must weep. + +MARY BEATON. + +4. +Le navire +Passe et luit, +Puis chavire +A grand bruit; +Et sur l'onde +La plus blonde +Tete au monde +Flotte et fuit. + +5. +Moi, je rame, +Et l'amour, +C'est ma flamme, +Mon grand jour, +Ma chandelle +Blanche et belle, +Ma chapelle + +De sejour. + +6. +Toi, mon ame +Et ma foi, +Sois, ma dame; +Et ma loi; +Sois ma mie, +Sois Marie, +Sois ma vie, +Toute a moi! + +MARY SEYTON. +I know the song; a song of Chastelard's, +He made in coming over with the queen. +How hard it rained! he played that over twice +Sitting before her, singing each word soft, +As if he loved the least she listened to. + +MARY HAMILTON. +No marvel if he loved it for her sake; +She is the choice of women in the world; +Is she not, sweet? + +MARY BEATON. +I have seen no fairer one. + +MARY SEYTON. +And the most loving: did you note last night +How long she held him with her hands and eyes, +Looking a little sadly, and at last +Kissed him below the chin and parted so +As the dance ended? + +MARY HAMILTON. +This was courtesy; +So might I kiss my singing-bird's red bill +After some song, till he bit short my lip. + +MARY SEYTON. +But if a lady hold her bird anights +To sing to her between her fingers-ha? +I have seen such birds. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +O, you talk emptily; +She is full of grace; and marriage in good time +Will wash the fool called scandal off men's lips. + +MARY HAMILTON. +I know not that; I know how folk would gibe +If one of us pushed courtesy so far. +She has always loved love's fashions well; you wot, +The marshal, head friend of this Chastelard's, +She used to talk with ere he brought her here +And sow their talk with little kisses thick +As roses in rose-harvest. For myself, +I cannot see which side of her that lurks, +Which snares in such wise all the sense of men; +What special beauty, subtle as man's eye +And tender as the inside of the eyelid is, +There grows about her. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +I think her cunning speech- +The soft and rapid shudder of her breath +In talking-the rare tender little laugh- +The pitiful sweet sound like a bird's sigh +When her voice breaks; her talking does it all. + +MARY SEYTON. +I say, her eyes with those clear perfect brows: +It is the playing of those eyelashes, +The lure of amorous looks as sad as love, +Plucks all souls toward her like a net. + +MARY HAMILTON. +What, what! +You praise her in too lover-like a wise +For women that praise women; such report +Is like robes worn the rough side next the skin, +Frets where it warms. + +MARY SEYTON. +You think too much in French. + +Enter DARNLEY. + +Here comes your thorn; what glove against it now? + +MARY HAMILTON. +O, God's good pity! this a thorn of mine? +It has not run deep in yet. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +I am not sure: +The red runs over to your face's edge. + +DARNLEY. +Give me one word; nay, lady, for love's sake; +Here, come this way; I will not keep you; no. +--O my sweet soul, why do you wrong me thus? + +MARY HAMILTON. +Why will you give me for men's eyes to burn? + +DARNLEY. +What, sweet, I love you as mine own soul loves me; +They shall divide when we do. + +MARY HAMILTON. +I cannot say. + +DARNLEY. +Why, look you, I am broken with the queen; +This is the rancor and the bitter heart +That grows in you; by God it is nought else. +Why, this last night she held me for a fool- +Ay, God wot, for a thing of stripe and bell. +I bade her make me marshal in her masque- +I had the dress here painted, gold and gray +(That is, not gray but a blue-green like this)- +She tells me she had chosen her marshal, she, +The best o' the world for cunning and sweet wit; +And what sweet fool but her sweet knight, God help! +To serve her with that three-inch wit of his? +She is all fool and fiddling now; for me, +I am well-pleased; God knows, if I might choose +I would not be more troubled with her love. +Her love is like a briar that rasps the flesh, +And yours is soft like flowers. Come this way, love; +So, further in this window; hark you here. + +Enter CHASTELARD. + +MARY BEATON. +Good morrow, sir. + +CHASTELARD. +Good morrow, noble lady. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +You have heard no news? what news? + +CHASTELARD. +Nay, I have none. +That maiden-tongued male-faced Elizabeth +Hath eyes unlike our queen's, hair not so soft, +And lips no kiss of love's could bring to flower +In such red wise as our queen's; save this news, +I know none English. + +MARY SEYTON. +Come, no news of her; +For God's love talk still rather of our queen. + +MARY BEATON. +God give us grace then to speak well of her. +You did right joyfully in our masque last night' +I saw you when the queen lost breath (her head +Bent back, her chin and lips catching the air- +A goodly thing to see her) how you smiled +Across her head, between your lips-no doubt +You had great joy, sir. Did you not take note +Once how one lock fell? that was good to see. + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, good enough to live for. + +MARY BEATON. +Nay, but sweet +Enough to die. When she broke off the dance, +Turning round short and soft-I never saw +Such supple ways of walking as she has. + +CHASTLELARD. +Why do you praise her gracious looks to me? + +MARY BEATON. +Sir, for mere sport: but tell me even for love +How much you love her. + +CHASTELARD. +I know not: it may be +If I had set mine eyes to find that out, +I should not know it. She hath fair eyes: may be +I love her for sweet eyes or brows or hair, +For the smooth temples, where God touching her +Made blue with sweeter veins the flower-sweet white +Or for the tender turning of her wrist, +Or marriage of the eyelid with the cheek; +I cannot tell; or flush of lifting throat, +I know not if the color get a name +This side of heaven-no man knows; or her mouth, +A flower's lip with a snake's lip, stinging sweet, +And sweet to sting with: face that one would see +And then fall blind and die with sight of it +Held fast between the eyelids-oh, all these +And all her body and the soul to that, +The speech and shape and hand and foot and heart +That I would die of-yea, her name that turns +My face to fire being written-I know no whit +How much I love them. + +MARY BEATON. +Nor how she loves you back? + +CHASTELARD. +I know her ways of loving, all of them: +A sweet soft way the first is; afterward +It burns and bites like fire; the end of that, +Charred dust, and eyelids bitten through with smoke. + +MARY BEATON. +What has she done for you to gird at her? + +CHASTELARD. +Nothing. You do not greatly love her, you, +Who do not-gird, you call it. I am bound to France; +Shall I take word from you to any one? +So it be harmless, not a gird, I will. + +MARY BEATON. +I doubt you will not go hence with your life. + +CHASTELARD. +Why, who should slay me? No man northwards born, +In my poor mind; my sword's lip is no maid's +To fear the iron biting of their own, +Though they kiss hard for hate's sake. + +MARY BEATON. +Lo you, sir, +How sharp he whispers, what close breath and eyes- +And here are fast upon him, do you see? + +CHASTELARD. +Well, which of these must take my life in hand? +Pray God it be the better: nay, which hand? + +MARY BEATON. +I think, none such. The man is goodly made; +She is tender-hearted toward his courtesies, +And would not have them fall too low to find. +Look, they slip forth. + +[Exeunt DARNLEY and MARY HAMILTON.] + +MARY SEYTON. +For love's sake, after them, +And soft as love can. + +[Exeunt MARY CARMICHAEL and MARY SEYTON.] + +CHASTELARD. +True, a goodly man. +What shapeliness and state he hath, what eyes, +Brave brow and lordly lip! Were it not fit +Great queens should love him? + +MARY BEATON. +See how now, fair lord, +I have but scant breath's time to help myself, +And I must cast my heart out on a chance; +So bear with me. That we twain have loved well, +I have no heart nor wit to say; God wot +We had never made good lovers, you and I. +Look you, I would not have you love me, sir, +For all the love's sake in the world. I say, +You love the queen, and loving burns you up, +And mars the grace and joyous wit you had, +Turning your speech to sad, your face to strange, +Your mirth to nothing: and I am piteous, I, +Even as the queen is, and such women are; +And if I helped you to your love-longing, +Meseems some grain of love might fall my way +And love's god help me when I came to love; +I have read tales of men that won their loves +On some such wise. + +CHASTELARD. +If you mean mercifully, +I am bound to you past thought and thank; if worse +I will but thank your lips and not your heart. + +MARY BEATON. +Nay, let love wait and praise me, in God's name, +Some day when he shall find me; yet, God wot, +My lips are of one color with my heart. +Withdraw now from me, and about midnight +In some close chamber without light or noise +It may be I shall get you speech of her: +She loves you well: it may be she will speak, +I wot not what; she loves you at her heart. +Let her not see that I have given you word, +Lest she take shame and hate her love. Till night +Let her not see it. + +CHASTLELARD. +I will not thank you now, +And then I'll die what sort of death you will. +Farewell. + +[Exit.] + +MARY BEATON. +And by God's mercy and my love's +I will find ways to earn such thank of you. + +[Exit.] + + + +ACT I. SCENE II. -A Hall in the same. + + +The QUEEN, DARNLEY, MURRAY, RANDOLPH, the +MARIES, CHASTELARD, &c. + + +QUEEN. +Hath no man seen my lord of Chastelard? +Nay, no great matter. Keep you on that side: +Begin the purpose. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Madam, he is here. + +QUEEN. +Begin a measure now that other side. +I will not dance; let them play soft a little. +Fair sir, we had a dance to tread to-night, +To teach our north folk all sweet ways of France, +But at this time we have no heart to it. +Sit, sir, and talk. Look, this breast-clasp is new, +The French king sent it me. + +CHASTELARD. +A goodly thing: +But what device? the word is ill to catch. + +QUEEN. +A Venus crowned, that eats the hearts of men: +Below her flies a love with a bat's wings, +And strings the hair of paramours to bind +Live birds' feet with. Lo what small subtle work: +The smith's name, Gian Grisostomo da--what? +Can you read that? The sea froths underfoot; +She stands upon the sea and it curls up +In soft loose curls that run to one in the wind. +But her hair is not shaken, there 's a fault; +It lies straight down in close-cut points and tongues, +Not like blown hair. The legend is writ small: +Still one makes out this--*Cave*--if you look. + +CHASTELARD. +I see the Venus well enough, God wot, +But nothing of the legend. + +QUEEN. +Come, fair lord, +Shall we dance now? My heart is good again. + +[They dance a measure.] + +DARNLEY. +I do not like this manner of a dance, +This game of two by two; it were much better +To meet between the changes and to mix +Than still to keep apart and whispering +Each lady out of earshot with her friend. + +MARY BEATON. +That 's as the lady serves her knight, I think: +We are broken up too much. + +DARNLEY. +Nay, no such thing; +Be not wroth, lady, I wot it was the queen +Pricked each his friend out. Look you now--your ear-- +If love had gone by choosing--how they laugh, +Lean lips together, and wring hands underhand! +What, you look white too, sick of heart, ashamed, +No marvel--for men call it--hark you though-- + +[They pass.] + +MURRAY. +Was the queen found no merrier in France? + +MARY HAMILTON. +Why, have you seen her sorrowful to-night? + +MURRAY. +I say not so much; blithe she seems at whiles, +Gentle and goodly doubtless in all ways, +But hardly with such lightness and quick heart +As it was said. + +MARY HAMILTON. +'Tis your great care of her +Makes you misdoubt; nought else. + +MURRAY. +Yea, may be so; +She has no cause I know to sadden her. + +[They pass.] + +QUEEN. +I am tired too soon; I could have danced down hours +Two years gone hence and felt no wearier. +One grows much older northwards, my fair lord; +I wonder men die south; meseems all France +Smells sweet with living, and bright breath of days +That keep men far from dying. Peace; pray you now, +No dancing more. Sing, sweet, and make us mirth; +We have done with dancing measures: sing that song +You call the song of love at ebb. + +MARY BEATON. + +[Sings.] + +1. +Between the sunset and the sea +My love laid hands and lips on me; +Of sweet came sour, of day came night, +Of long desire came brief delight: +Ah love, and what thing came of thee +Between the sea-downs and the sea? + +2. +Between the sea-mark and the sea +Joy grew to grief, grief grew to me; +Love turned to tears, and tears to fire, +And dead delight to new desire; +Love's talk, love's touch there seemed to be +Between the sea-sand and the sea. + +3. +Between the sundown and the sea +Love watched one hour of love with me; +Then down the all-golden water-ways +His feet flew after yesterday's; + I saw them come and saw them flee +Between the sea-foam and the sea. + +4. +Between the sea-strand and the sea +Love fell on sleep, sleep fell on me; +The first star saw twain turn to one +Between the moonrise and the sun; +The next, that saw not love, saw me +Between the sea-banks and the sea. + +QUEEN. +Lo, sirs, +What mirth is here! Some song of yours, fair lord; +You know glad ways of rhyming--no such tunes +As go to tears. + +CHASTELARD. +I made this yesterday; +For its love's sake I pray you let it live. + +1. +Apres tant de jours, apres tant de pleurs, +Soyez secourable a mon ame en peine. +Voyez comme Avril fait l'amour aux fleurs; +Dame d'amour, dame aux belles couleurs, +Dieu vous a fait belle, Amour vous fait reine. + +2. +Rions, je t'en prie; aimons, je le veux. +Le temps fuit et rit et ne revient guere +Pour baiser le bout de tes blonds cheveux, +Pour baiser tes cils, ta bouche et tes yeux; +L'amour n'a qu'un jour aupres de sa mere. + +QUEEN. +'T is a true song; love shall not pluck time back +Nor time lie down with love. For me, I am old; +Have you no hair changed since you changed to Scot? +I look each day to see my face drawn up +About the eyes, as if they sucked the cheeks. +I think this air and face of things here north +Puts snow at flower-time in the blood, and tears +Between the sad eyes and the merry mouth +In their youth-days. + +CHASTELARD. +It is a bitter air. + +QUEEN. +Faith, if I might be gone, sir, would I stay? +I think, for no man's love's sake. + +CHASTELARD. +I think not. + +QUEEN. +Do you yet mind at landing how the quay +Looked like a blind wet face in waste of wind +And washing of wan waves? how the hard mist +Made the hills ache? your songs lied loud, my knight, +They said my face would burn off cloud and rain +Seen once, and fill the crannied land with fire, +Kindle the capes in their blind black-gray hoods-- +I know not what. You praise me past all loves; +And these men love me little; 't is some fault, +I think, to love me: even a fool's sweet fault. +I have your verse still beating in my head +Of how the swallow got a wing broken +In the spring time, and lay upon his side +Watching the rest fly off i' the red leaf-time, +And broke his heart with grieving at himself +Before the snow came. Do you know that lord +With sharp-set eyes? and him with huge thewed throat? +Good friends to me; I had need love them well. +Why do you look one way? I will not have you +Keep your eyes here: 't is no great wit in me +To care much now for old French friends of mine.-- +Come, a fresh measure; come, play well for me, +Fair sirs, your playing puts life in foot and heart.-- + +DARNLEY. +Lo you again, sirs, how she laughs and leans, +Holding him fast--the supple way she hath! +Your queen hath none such; better as she is +For all her measures, a grave English maid, +Than queen of snakes and Scots. + +RANDOLPH. +She is over fair +To be so sweet and hurt not. A good knight; +Goodly to look on. + +MURRAY. +Yea, a good sword too, +And of good kin; too light of loving though; +These jangling song-smiths are keen love-mongers, +They snap at all meats. + +DARNLEY. +What! by God I think, +For all his soft French face and bright boy's sword, +There be folks fairer: and for knightliness, +These hot-lipped brawls of Paris breed sweet knights-- +Mere stabbers for a laugh across the wine.-- + +QUEEN. +There, I have danced you down for once, fair lord; +You look pale now. Nay then for courtesy +I must needs help you; do not bow your head, +I am tall enough to reach close under it. + +[Kisses him.] + +Now come, we'll sit and see this passage through.-- + +DARNLEY. +A courtesy, God help us! courtesy-- +Pray God it wound not where it should heal wounds. +Why, there was here last year some lord of France +(Priest on the wrong side as some folk are prince) +Told tales of Paris ladies--nay, by God, +No jest for queen's lips to catch laughter of +That would keep clean; I wot he made good mirth, +But she laughed over sweetly, and in such wise-- +But she laughed over sweetly, and in such wise-- +Nay, I laughed too, but lothly.-- + +QUEEN. +How they look! +The least thing courteous galls them to the bone. +What would one say now I were thinking of? + +CHASTELARD. +It seems, some sweet thing. + +QUEEN. +True, a sweet one, sir-- +That madrigal you made Alys de Saulx +Of the three ways of love: the first kiss honor, +The second pity, and the last kiss love. +Which think you now was that I kissed you with? + +CHASTELARD. +It should be pity, if you be pitiful; +For I am past all honoring that keep +Outside the eye of battle, where my kin +Fallen overseas have found this many a day +No helm of mine between them; and for love, +I think of that as dead men of good days +Ere the wrong side of death was theirs, when God +Was friends with them. + +QUEEN. +Good; call it pity then. +You have a subtle riddling skill at love +Which is not like a lover. For my part, +I am resolved to be well done with love, +Though I were fairer-faced than all the world; +As there be fairer. Think you, fair my knight, +Love shall live after life in any man? +I have given you stuff for riddles. + +CHASTELARD. +Most sweet queen, +They say men dying remember, with sharp joy +And rapid reluctation of desire, +Some old thin, some swift breath of wind, some word, +Some sword-stroke or dead lute-strain, some lost sight, +Some sea-blossom stripped to the sun and burned +At naked ebb--some river-flower that breathes +Against the stream like a swooned swimmer's mouth-- +Some tear or laugh ere lip and eye were man's-- +Sweet stings that struck the blood in riding--nay, +Some garment or sky-color or spice-smell, +And die with heart and face shut fast on it, +And know not why, and weep not; it may be +Men shall hold love fast always in such wise +In new fair lives where all are new things else, +And know not why, and weep not. + +QUEEN. +A right rhyme, +And right a thyme's worth: nay, a sweet song, though. +What, shall my cousin hold fast that love of his, +Her face and talk, when life ends? as God grant +His life end late and sweet; I love him well. +She is fair enough, his lover; a fair-faced maid, +With gray sweet eyes and tender touch of talk; +And that, God wot, I wist not. See you, sir, +Men say I needs must get wed hastily; +Do none point lips at him? + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, guessingly. + +QUEEN. +God help such lips! and get me leave to laugh! +What should I do but paint and put him up +Like a gilt god, a saintship in a shrine, +For all fools' feast? God's mercy on men's wits! +Tall as a housetop and as bare of brain-- +I'll have no staffs with fool-faced carven heads +To hang my life on. Nay, for love, no more, +For fear I laugh and set their eyes on edge +To find out why I laugh. Good-night, fair lords; +Bid them cease playing. Give me your hand; good-night. + + + +SCENE III.--MARY BEATON'S chamber: night. + +[Enter CHASTELARD.] + +CHASTELARD. +I am not certain yet she will not come; +For I can feel her hand's heat still in mine, +Past doubting of, and see her brows half draw, +And half a light in the eyes. If she come not, +I am no worse than he that dies to-night. +This two years' patience gets an end at least, +Whichever way I am well done with it. +How hard the thin sweet moon is, split and laced +And latticed over, just a stray of it +Catching and clinging at a strip of wall, +Hardly a hand's breadth. Did she turn indeed +In going out? not to catch up her gown +The page let slip, but to keep sight of me? +There was a soft small stir beneath her eyes +Hard to put on, a quivering of her blood +That knew of the old nights watched out wakefully. +Those measures of her dancing too were changed-- +More swift and with more eager stops at whiles +And rapid pauses where breath failed her lips. + +[Enter MARY BEATON.] + +O, she is come: if you be she indeed +Let me but hold your hand; what, no word yet? +You turn and kiss me without word; O sweet, +If you will slay me be not over quick, +Kill me with some slow heavy kiss that plucks +The heart out at the lips. Alas! Sweet love, +Give me some old sweet word to kiss away. +Is it a jest? for I can feel your hair +Touch me--I may embrace your body too? +I know you well enough without sweet words. +How should one make you speak? This is not she. +Come in the light; nay, let me see your eyes. +Ah, you it is? what have I done to you? +And do you look now to be slain for this +That you twist back and shudder like one stabbed? + +MARY BEATON. +Yea, kill me now and do not look at me: +God knows I meant to die. Sir, for God's love, +Kill me now quick ere I go mad with shame. + +CHASTELARD. +Cling not upon my wrists: let go the hilt: +Nay, you will bruise your hand with it: stand up: +You shall not have my sword forth. + +MARY BEATON. +Kill me now, +I will not rise: there, I am patient, see, +I will not strive, but kill me for God's sake. + +CHASTELARD. +Pray you rise up and be not shaken so: +Forgive me my rash words, my heart was gone +After the thing you were: be not ashamed; +Give me the shame, you have no part in it; +Can I not say a word shall do you good? +Forgive that too. + +MARY BEATON. +I shall run crazed with shame; +But when I felt your lips catch hold on mine +It stopped my breath: I would have told you all; +Let me go out: you see I lied to you, +Am I am shamed; I pray you loose me, sir, +Let me go out. + +CHASTELARD. +Think no base things of me: +I were most base to let you go ashamed. +Think my heart's love and honor go with you: +Yea, while I live, for your love's noble sake, +I am your servant in what wise may be, +To love and serve you with right thankful heart. + +MARY BEATON. +I have given men leave to mock me, and must bear +What shame they please: you have good cause to mock. +Let me pass now. + +CHASTELARD. +You know I mock you not. +If ever I leave off to honor you, +God give me shame! I were the worst churl born. + +MARY BEATON. +No marvel though the queen should love you too, +Being such a knight. I pray you for her love, +Lord Chastelard, of your great courtesy, +Think now no scorn to give me my last kiss +That I shall have of man before I die. +Even the same lips you kissed and knew not of +Will you kiss now, knowing the shame of them, +And say no one word to me afterwards, +That I may see I have loved the best lover +And man most courteous of all men alive? + +MARY SEYTON. + +[Within.] + +Here, fetch the light: nay, this way; enter all. + +MARY BEATON. +I am twice undone. Fly, get some hiding, sir; +They have spied upon me somehow. + +CHASTELARD. +Nay, fear not; +Stand by my side. + +[Enter MARY SEYTON and MARY HAMILTON.] + +MARY HAMILTON. +Give me that light: this way. + +CHASTELARD. +What jest is here, fair ladies? it walks late, +Something too late for laughing. + +MARY SEYTON. +Nay, fair sir, +What jest is this of yours? Look to your lady: +She is nigh swooned. The queen shall know all this. + +MARY HAMILTON. +A grievous shame it is we are fallen upon; +Hold forth the light. Is this your care of us? +Nay, come, look up: this is no game, God wot. + +CHASTELARD. +Shame shall befall them that speak shamefully: +I swear this lady is as pure and good +As any maiden, and who believes me not +Shall keep the shame for his part and the lie. +To them that come in honor and not in hate +I will make answer. Lady, have good heart. +Give me the light there: I will see you forth. + +END OF THE FIRST ACT. + + + +ACT II. + +DARNLEY. + + + +SCENE I.--The great Chamber in Holyrood. + +The QUEEN and MARY SEYTON. + + +QUEEN. +But will you swear it? + +MARY SEYTON. +Swear it, madam? + +QUEEN. +Ay-- +Swear it. + +MARY SEYTON. +Madam, I am not friends with them. + +QUEEN. +Swear then against them if you are not friends. + +MARY SEYTON. +Indeed I saw them kiss. + +QUEEN. +So lovers use-- +What, their mouths close? a goodly way of love! +Or but the hands? or on her throat? Prithee-- +You have sworn that. + +MARY SEYTON. +I say what I saw done. + +QUEEN. +Ay, you did see her cheeks (God smite them red!) +Kissed either side? what, they must eat strange food +Those singing lips of his? + +MARY SEYTON. +Sweet meat enough-- +They started at my coming five yards off, +But there they were. + +QUEEN. +A maid may have kissed cheeks +And no shame in them--yet one would not swear. +You have sworn that. Pray God he be not mad: +A sickness in his eyes. The left side love +(I was told that) and the right courtesy. +'T is good fools' fashion. What, no more but this? +For me, God knows I am no whit wroth; not I; +But, for your fame's sake that her shame will sting, +I cannot see a way to pardon her-- +For your fame's sake, lest that be prated of. + +MARY SEYTON. +Nay, if she were not chaste--I have not said +She was not chaste. + +QUEEN. +I know you are tender of her; +And your sweet word will hardly turn her sweet. + +MARY SEYTON. +Indeed I would fain do her any good. +Shall I not take some gracious word to her? + +QUEEN. +Bid her not come or wait on me to-day. + +MARY SEYTON. +Will you see him? + +QUEEN. +See--O, this Chastelard? +He doth not well to sing maids into shame; +And folk are sharp here; yet for sweet friends' sake +Assuredly I 'll see him. I am not wroth. +A goodly man, and a good sword thereto-- +It may be he shall wed her. I am not wroth. + +MARY SEYTON. +Nay, though she bore with him, she hath no great love, +I doubt me, that way. + +QUEEN. +God mend all, I pray-- +And keep us from all wrongdoing and wild words. +I think there is no fault men fall upon +But I could pardon. Look you, I would swear +She were no paramour for any man, +So well I love her. + +MARY SEYTON. +Am I to bid him in? + +QUEEN. +As you will, sweet. But if you held me hard +You did me grievous wrong. Doth he wait there? +Men call me over tender; I had rather so, +Than too ungracious. Father, what with you? + +[Enter FATHER BLACK.] + +FATHER BLACK. +God's peace and health of soul be with the queen! +And pardon be with me though I speak truth. +As I was going on peaceable men's wise +Through your good town, desiring no man harm, +A kind of shameful woman with thief's lips +Spake somewhat to me over a thrust-out chin, +Soliciting as I deemed an alms; which alms +(Remembering what was writ of Magdalen) +I gave no grudging but with pure good heart, +When lo some scurril children that lurked near, +Set there by Satan for my stumbling-stone, +Fell hooting with necks thwart and eyes asquint, +Screeched and made horns and shot out tongues at me, +As at my Lord the Jews shot out their tongues +And made their heads wag; I considering this +Took up my cross in patience and passed forth: +Nevertheless one ran between my feet +And made me totter, using speech and signs +I smart with shame to think of: then my blood +Kindled, and I was moved to smite the knave, +And the knave howled; whereat the lewd whole herd +Brake forth upon me and cast mire and stones +So that I ran sore risk of bruise or gash +If they had touched; likewise I heard men say, +(Their foul speech missed not mine ear) they cried, +"This devil's mass-priest hankers for new flesh +Like a dry hound; let him seek such at home, +Snuff and smoke out the queen's French--" + +QUEEN. +They said that? + +FATHER BLACK. +"--French paramours that breed more shames than sons +All her court through;" forgive me. + +QUEEN. +With my heart. +Father, you see the hatefulness of these- +They loathe us for our love. I am not moved: +What should I do being angry? By this hand +(Which is not big enough to bruise their lips), +I marvel what thing should be done with me +To make me wroth. We must have patience with us +When we seek thank of men. + +FATHER BLACK. +Madam, farewell; +I pray God keep you in such patient heart. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. +Let him come now. + +MARY SEYTON. +Madam, he is at hand. + +[Exit.] + +[Enter CHASTELARD.] + +QUEEN. +Give me that broidery frame; how, gone so soon? +No maid about? Reach me some skein of silk. +What, are you come, fair lord? Now by my life +That lives here idle, I am right glad of you; +I have slept so well and sweet since yesternight +It seems our dancing put me in glad heart. +Did you sleep well? + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, as a man may sleep. + +QUEEN. +You smile as if I jested; do not men +Sleep as we do? Had you fair dreams in the night? +For me-but I should fret you with my dreams- +I dreamed sweet things. You are good at soothsaying: +Make me a sonnet of my dream. + +CHASTELARD. +I will, +When I shall know it. + +QUEEN. +I thought I was asleep +In Paris, lying by my lord, and knew +In somewise he was well awake, and yet +I could not wake too; and I seemed to know +He hated me, and the least breath I made +Would turn somehow to slay or stifle me. +Then in brief time he rose and went away, +Saying, Let her dream, but when her dream is out +I will come back and kill her as she wakes. +And I lay sick and trembling with sore fear, +And still I knew that I was deep asleep; +And thinking I must dream now, or I die, +God send me some good dream lest I be slain, +Fell fancying one had bound my feet with cords +And bade me dance, and the first measure made +I fell upon my face and wept for pain: +And my cords broke, and I began the dance +To a bitter tune; and he that danced with me +Was clothed in black with long red lines and bars +And masked down to the lips, but by the chin +I knew you though your lips were sewn up close +With scarlet thread all dabbled wet in blood. +And then I knew the dream was not for good. +And striving with sore travail to reach up +And kiss you (you were taller in my dream) +I missed your lips and woke. + +CHASTELARD. +Sweet dreams, you said? +An evil dream I hold it for, sweet love. + +QUEEN. +You call love sweet; yea, what is bitter, then? +There's nothing broken sleep could hit upon +So bitter as the breaking down of love. +You call me sweet; I am not sweet to you, +Nor you-O, I would say not sweet to me, +And if I said so I should hardly lie. +But there have been those things between us, sir, +That men call sweet. + +CHASTELARD. +I know not how There is +Turns to There hath been; 't is a heavier change +Than change of flesh to dust. Yet though years change +And good things end and evil things grow great, +The old love that was, or that was dreamed about, +That sang and kissed and wept upon itself, +Laughed and ran mad with love of its own face, +That was a sweet thing. + +QUEEN. +Nay, I know not well. +'T is when the man is held fast underground +They say for sooth what manner of heart he had. +We are alive, and cannot be well sure +If we loved much or little: think you not +It were convenient one of us should die? + +CHASTELARD. +Madam, your speech is harsh to understand. + +QUEEN. +Why, there could come no change then; one of us +Would never need to fear our love might turn +To the sad thing that it may grow to be. +I would sometimes all things were dead asleep +That I have loved, all buried in soft beds +And sealed with dreams and visions, and each dawn +Sung to by sorrows, and all night assuaged +By short sweet kissed and by sweet long loves +For old life's sake, lest weeping overmuch +Should wake them in a strange new time, and arm +Memory's blind hand to kill forgetfulness. + +CHASTELARD. +Look, you dream still, and sadly. + +QUEEN. +Sooth, a dream; +For such things died or lied in sweet love's face, +And I forget them not, God help my wit! +I would the whole world were made up of sleep +And life not fashioned out of lies and loves. +We foolish women have such times, you know, +When we are weary or afraid or sick +For perfect nothing. + +CHASTELARD. +[Aside.] +Now would one be fain +To know what bitter or what dangerous thing +She thinks of, softly chafing her soft lip. +She must mean evil. + +QUEEN. +Are you sad too, sir, +That you say nothing? + +CHASTELARD. +I? not sad a jot- +Though this your talk might make a blithe man sad. + +QUEEN. +O me! I must not let stray sorrows out; +They are ill to fledge, and if they feel blithe air +They wail and chirp untunefully. Would God +I had been a man! when I was born, men say, +My father turned his face and wept to think +I was no man. + +CHASTELARD. +Will you weep too? + +QUEEN. +In sooth, +If I were a man I should be no base man; +I could have fought; yea, I could fight now too +If men would show me; I would I were the king! +I should be all ways better than I am. + +CHASTELARD. +Nay, would you have more honor, having this- +Men's hearts and loves and the sweet spoil of souls +Given you like simple gold to bind your hair? +Say you were king of thews, not queen of souls, +An iron headpiece hammered to a head, +You might fall too. + +QUEEN. +No, then I would not fall, +Or God should make me woman back again. +To be King James-you hear men say King James, +The word sounds like a piece of gold thrown down, +Rings with a round and royal note in it- +A name to write good record of; this king +Fought here and there, was beaten such a day, +And came at last to a good end, his life +Being all lived out, and for the main part well +And like a king's life; then to have men say +(As now they say of Flodden, here they broke +And there they held up to the end) years back +They saw you-yea, I saw the king's face helmed +Red in the hot lit foreground of some fight +Hold the whole war as it were by the bit, a horse +Fit for his knees' grip-the great rearing war +That frothed with lips flung up, and shook men's lives +Off either flank of it like snow; I saw +(You could not hear as his sword rang), saw him +Shout, laugh, smite straight, and flaw the riven ranks, +Move as the wind moves, and his horse's feet +Stripe their long flags with dust. Why, if one died, +To die so in the heart and heat of war +Were a much goodlier thing than living soft +And speaking sweet for fear of men. Woe's me, +Is there no way to pluck this body off? +Then I should never fear a man again, +Even in my dreams I should not; no, by heaven. + +CHASTELARD. +I never thought you did fear anything. + +QUEEN. +God knows I do; I could be sick with wrath +To think what grievous fear I have 'twixt whiles +Of mine own self and of base men: last night +If certain lords were glancing where I was +Under the eyelid, with sharp lip and brow, +I tell you, for pure shame and fear of them, +I could have gone and slain them. + +CHASTELARD. +Verily, +You are changed since those good days that fell in France; +But yet I think you are not so changed at heart +As to fear man. + +QUEEN. +I would I had no need. +Lend me your sword a little; a fair sword; +I see the fingers that I hold it with +Clear in the blade, bright pink, the shell-color, +Brighter than flesh is really, curved all round. +Now men would mock if I should wear it here, +Bound under bosom with a girdle, here, +And yet I have heart enough to wear it well. +Speak to me like a woman, let me see +If I can play at man. + +CHASTELARD. +God save King James! + +QUEEN. +Would you could change now! Fie, this will not do; +Unclasp your sword; nay, the hilt hurts my side; +It sticks fast here. Unbind this knot for me: +Stoop, and you'll see it closer; thank you: there. +Now I can breathe, sir. Ah! it hurts me, though: +This was fool's play. + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, you are better so, +Without the sword; your eyes are stronger things, +Whether to save or slay. + +QUEEN. +Alas, my side! +It hurts right sorely. Is it not pitiful +Our souls should be so bound about with flesh +Even when they leap and smite with wings and feet, +The least pain plucks them back, puts out their eyes, +Turns them to tears and words? Ah my sweet knight, +You have the better of us that weave and weep +While the blithe battle blows upon your eyes +Like rain and wind; yet I remember too +When this last year the fight at Corrichie +Reddened the rushes with stained fen-water, +I rode with my good men and took delight, +Feeling the sweet clear wind upon my eyes +And rainy soft smells blown upon my face +In riding: then the great fight jarred and joined, +And the sound stung me right through heart and all; +For I was here, see, gazing off the hills, +In the wet air; our housings were all wet, +And not a plume stood stiffly past the ear +But flapped between the bridle and the neck; +And under us we saw the battle go +Like running water; I could see by fits +Some helm the rain fell shining off, some flag +Snap from the staff, shorn through or broken short +In the man's falling: yea, one seemed to catch +The very grasp of tumbled men at men, +Teeth clenched in throats, hands riveted in hair, +Tearing the life out with no help of swords. +And all the clamor seemed to shine, the light +Seemed to shout as a man doth; twice I laughed-- +I tell you, twice my heart swelled out with thirst +To be into the battle; see, fair lord, +I swear it seemed I might have made a knight, +And yet the simple bracing of a belt +Makes me cry out; this is too pitiful, +This dusty half of us made up with fears.-- +Have you been ever quite so glad to fight +As I have thought men must? pray you, speak truth. + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, when the time came, there caught hold of me +Such pleasure in the head and hands and blood +As may be kindled under loving lips: +Crossing the ferry once to the Clerks' Field, +I mind how the plashing noise of Seine +Put fire into my face for joy, and how +My blood kept measure with the swinging boat +Till we touched land, all for the sake of that +Which should be soon. + +QUEEN. +Her name, for God's love, sir; +You slew your friend for love's sake? nay, the name. + +CHASTELARD. +Faith, I forget. + +QUEEN. +Now by the faith I have +You have no faith to swear by. + +CHASTELARD. +A good sword: +We left him quiet after a thrust or twain. + +QUEEN. +I would I had been at hand and marked them off +As the maids did when we played singing games: +You outwent me at rhyming; but for faith, +We fight best there. I would I had seen you fight. + +CHASTELARD. +I would you had; his play was worth an eye; +He made some gallant way before that pass +Which made me way through him. + +QUEEN. +Would I saw that-- +How did you slay him? + +CHASTELARD. +A clean pass--this way; +Right in the side here, where the blood has root. +His wrist went round in pushing, see you, thus, +Or he had pierced me. + +QUEEN. +Yea, I see, sweet knight. +I have a mind to love you for his sake; +Would I had seen. + +CHASTELARD. +Hugues de Marsillac-- +I have the name now; 't was a goodly one +Before he changed it for a dusty name. + +QUEEN. +Talk not of death; I would hear living talk +Of good live swords and good strokes struck withal, +Brave battles and the mirth of mingling men, +Not of cold names you greet a dead man with. +You are yet young for fighting; but in fight +Have you never caught a wound? + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, twice or so: +The first time in a little outlying field +(My first field) at the sleepy gray of dawn, +They found us drowsy, fumbling at our girths, +And rode us down by heaps; I took a hurt +Here in the shoulder. + +QUEEN. +Ah, I mind well now; +Did you not ride a day's space afterward, +Having two wounds? yea, Dandelot it was, +That Dandelot took word of it. I know, +Sitting at meat when the news came to us +I had nigh swooned but for those Florence eyes +Slanting my way with sleek lids drawn up close-- +Yea, and she said, the Italian brokeress, +She said such men were good for great queens' love. +I would you might die, when you come to die, +Like a knight slain. Pray God we make good ends. +For love too, love dies hard or easily, +But some way dies on some day, ere we die. + +CHASTELARD. +You made a song once of old flowers and loves, +Will you not sing that rather? 't is long gone +Since you sang last. + +QUEEN. +I had rather sigh than sing +And sleep than sigh; 't is long since verily, +But I will once more sing; ay, thus it was. + +[Sings.] + +1. +J'ai vu faner bien des choses, +Mainte feuille aller au vent. +En songeant aux vieilles roses, + J'ai pleure souvent. + +2. +Vois-tu dans les roses mortes +Amour qui sourit cache? +O mon amant, a nos portes + L'as-tu vu couche? + +3. +As-tu vu jamais au monde +Venus chasser et courir? +Fille de l'onde, avec l'onde + Doit-elle mourir? + +4. +Aux jours de neige et de givre +L'amour s'effeuille et s'endort; +Avec mai doit-il revivre, + Ou bien est-il mort? + +5. +Qui sait ou s'en vont les roses? +Qui sai ou s'en va le vent? +En songeant a telles choses, + J'ai pleure souvent. + +I never heard yet but love made good knights, +But for pure faith, by Mary's holiness, +I think she lies about men's lips asleep, +And if one kiss or pluck her by the hand +To wake her, why God help your woman's wit, +Faith is but dead; dig her grave deep at heart, +And hide her face with cerecloths; farewell faith. +Would I could tell why I talk idly. Look, +Here come my riddle-readers. Welcome all; + +[Enter MURRAY, DARNLEY, RANDOLPH, LINDSAY, +MORTON, and other LORDS.] + +Sirs, be right welcome. Stand you by my side, +Fair cousin, I must lean on love or fall; +You are a goodly staff, sir; tall enough, +And fair enough to serve. My gentle lords, +I am full glad of God that in great grace +He hath given me such a lordly stay as this; +There is no better friended queen alive. +For the repealing of those banished men +That stand in peril yet of last year's fault, +It is our will; you have our seal to that. +Brother, we hear harsh bruits of bad report +Blown up and down about our almoner; +See you to this: let him be sought into: +They say lewd folk make ballads of their spleen, +Strew miry ways of words with talk of him; +If they have cause let him be spoken with. + +LINDSAY. +Madam, they charge him with so rank a life +Were it not well this fellow were plucked out-- +Seeing this is not an eye that doth offend, +But a blurred glass it were no harm to break; +Yea rather it were gracious to be done? + +QUEEN. +Let him be weighed, and use him as he is; +I am of my nature pitiful, ye know, +And cannot turn my love unto a thorn +In so brief space. Ye are all most virtuous; +Yea, there is goodness grafted on this land; +But yet compassion is some part of God. +There is much heavier business held on hand +Than one man's goodness: yea, as things fare here, +A matter worth more weighing. All you wot +I am choose a help to my weak feet, +A lamp before my face, a lord and friend +To walk with me in weary ways, high up +Between the wind and rain and the hot sun. +Now I have chosen a helper to myself, +I wot the best a woman ever won; +A man that loves me, and a royal man, +A goodly love and lord for any queen. +But for the peril and despite of men +I have sometime tarried and withheld myself, +Not fearful of his worthiness nor you, +But with some lady's loathing to let out +My whole heart's love; for truly this is hard, +Not like a woman's fashion, shamefacedness +And noble grave reluctance of herself +To be the tongue and cry of her own heart. +Nathless plain speech is better than much wit, +So ye shall bear with me; albeit I think +Ye have caught the mark whereat my heart is bent. +I have kept close counsel and shut up men's lips, +But lightly shall a woman's will slip out, +The foolish little winged will of her, +Through cheek or eye when tongue is charmed asleep. +For that good lord I have good will to wed, +I wot he knew long since which way it flew, +Even till it lit on his right wrist and sang. +Lo, here I take him by the hand: fair lords, +This is my kinsman, made of mine own blood, +I take to halve the state and services +That bow down to me, and to be my head, +My chief, my master, my sweet lord and king. +Now shall I never say "sweet cousin" more +To my dear head and husband; here, fair sir, +I give you all the heart of love in me +To gather off my lips. Did it like you, +The taste of it? sir, it was whole and true. +God save our king! + +DARNLEY. +Nay, nay, sweet love, no lord; +No king of yours though I were lord of these. + +QUEEN. +Let word be sent to all good friends of ours +To help us to be glad; England and France +Shall bear great part of our rejoicings up. +Give me your hand, dear lord; for from this time +I must not walk alone. Lords, have good cheer: +For you shall have a better face than mine +To set upon your kingly gold and show +For Scotland's forehead in the van of things. +Go with us now, and see this news set out. + +[Exeunt QUEEN, DARNLEY, and LORDS.] + +[As CHASTELARD is going out, enter MARY BEATON.] + +MARY BEATON. +Have you yet heard? You knew of this? + +CHASTELARD. +I know. +I was just thinking how such things were made +And were so fair as this is. Do you know +She held me here and talked--the most sweet talk +Men ever heard of? + +MARY BEATON. +You hate me to the heart. +What will you do? + +CHASTELARD. +I know not: die some day, +But live as long and lightly as I can. +Will you now love me? faith, but if you do, +It were much better you were dead and hearsed. +Will you do one thing for me? + +MARY BEATON. +Yea, all things. + +CHASTELARD. +Speak truth a little, for God's sake: indeed +It were no harm to do. Come, will you, sweet? +Though it be but to please God. + +MARY BEATON. +What will you do? + +CHASTELARD. +Ay, true, I must do somewhat. Let me see: +To get between and tread upon his face-- +Catch both her hands and bid men look at them, +How pure they were--I would do none of these, +Though they got wedded all the days in the year. +We may do well yet when all's come and gone. +I pray you on this wedding-night of theirs +Do but one thing that I shall ask of you, +And Darnley will not hunger as I shall +For that good time. Sweet, will you swear me this? + +MARY BEATON. +Yea; though to do it were mortal to my soul +As the chief sin. + +CHASTELARD. +I thank you: let us go. + + + +END OF THE SECOND ACT. + + + +ACT III. + +THE QUEEN. + + + + +SCENE I.--The Queen's Chamber. Night. Lights burning +In front of the bed. + +[Enter CHASTELARD and MARY BEATON.] + +MARY BEATON. +Be tender of your feet. + +CHASTELARD. +I shall not fail: +These ways have light enough to help a man +That walks with such stirred blood in him as mine. + +MARY BEATON. +I would yet plead with you to save your head: +Nay, let this be then: sir, I chide you not. +Nay, let all come. Do not abide her yet. + +CHASTELARD. +Have you read never in French books the song +Called the Duke's Song, some boy made ages back, +A song of drag-nets hauled across thwart seas +And plucked up with rent sides, and caught therein +A strange-haired woman with sad singing lips, +Cold in the cheek like any stray of sea, +And sweet to touch? so that men seeing her face, +And how she sighed out little Ahs of pain +And soft cries sobbing sideways from her mouth, +Fell in hot love, and having lain with her +Died soon? one time I could have told it through: +Now I have kissed the sea-witch on her eyes +And my lips ache with it; but I shall sleep +Full soon, and a good space of sleep. + +MARY BEATON. +Alas! + +CHASTELARD. +What makes you sigh though I be found a fool? +You have no blame: and for my death, sweet friend, +I never could have lived long either way. +Why, as I live, the joy I have of this +Would make men mad that were not mad with love; +I hear my blood sing, and my lifted heart +Is like a springing water blown of wind +For pleasure of this deed. Now, in God's name, +I swear if there be danger in delight +I must die now: if joys have deadly teeth, +I'll have them bite my soul to death, and end +In the old asp's way, Egyptian-wise; be killed +In a royal purple fashion. Look, my love +Would kill me if my body were past hurt +Of any man's hand; and to die thereof, +I say, is sweeter than all sorts of life. +I would not have her love me now, for then +I should die meanlier some time. I am safe, +Sure of her face, my life's end in her sight, +My blood shed out about her feet--by God, +My heart feels drunken when I think of it. +See you, she will not rid herself of me, +Not though she slay me: her sweet lips and life +Will smell of my spilt blood. + +MARY BEATON. +Give me good-night. + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, and good thanks. + +[Exit MARY BEATON.] + +Here is the very place: +Here has her body bowed the pillows in +And here her head thrust under made the sheet +Smell sort of her mixed hair and spice: even here +Her arms pushed back the coverlet, pulled here +The golden silken curtain halfway in +It may be, and made room to lean out loose, +Fair tender fallen arms. Now, if God would, +Doubtless he might take pity on my soul +To give me three clear hours, and then red hell +Snare me forever: this were merciful: +If I were God now I should do thus much. +I must die next, and this were not so hard +For him to let me eat sweet fruit and die +With my lips sweet from it. For one shall have +This fare for common days'-bread, which to me +Should be a touch kept always on my sense +To make hell soft, yea, the keen pain of hell +Soft as the loosening of wound arms in sleep. +Ah, love is good, and the worst part of it +More than all things but death. She will be here +In some small while, and see me face to face +That am to give up life for her and go +Where a man lies with all his loves put out +And his lips full of earth. I think on her, +And the old pleasure stings and makes half-tears +Under mine eyelids. Prithee, love, come fast, +That I may die soon: yea, some kisses through, +I shall die joyfully enough, so God +Keep me alive till then. I feel her feet +Coming far off; now must I hold my heart, +Steadying my blood to see her patiently. + +[Hides himself by the bed.] + +[Enter the QUEEN and DARNLEY.] + +QUEEN. +Nay, now go back: I have sent off my folk, +Maries and all. Pray you, let be my hair; +I cannot twist the gold thread out of it +That you wound in so close. Look, here it clings: +Ah! now you mar my hair unwinding it. +Do me no hurt, sir. + +DARNLEY. +I would do you ease; +Let me stay here. + +QUEEN. +Nay, will you go, my lord? + +DARNLEY. +Eh? would you use me as a girl does fruit, +Touched with her mouth and pulled away for game +To look thereon ere her lips feed? but see, +By God, I fare the worse for you. + +QUEEN. +Fair sir, +Give me this hour to watch with and say prayers; +You have not faith-it needs me to say prayers, +That with commending of this deed to God +I may get grace for it. + +DARNLEY. +Why, lacks it grace? +Is not all wedlock gracious of itself? + +QUEEN. +Nay, that I know not of. Come, sweet, be hence. + +DARNLEY. +You have a sort of jewel in your neck +That's like mine here. + +QUEEN. +Keep off your hands and go: +You have no courtesy to be a king. + +DARNLEY. +Well, I will go: nay, but I thwart you not. +Do as you will, and get you grace; farewell, +And for my part, grace keep this watch with me! +For I need grace to bear with you so much. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. +So, he is forth. Let me behold myself; +I am too pale to be so hot; I marvel +So little color should be bold in the face +When the blood is not quieted. I have +But a brief space to cool my thoughts upon. +If one should wear the hair thus heaped and curled +Would it look best? or this way in the neck? +Could one ungirdle in such wise one's heart + +[Taking off her girdle.] + +And ease it inwards as the waist is eased +By slackening of the slid clasp on it! +How soft the silk is-gracious color too; +Violet shadows like new veins thrown up +Each arm, and gold to fleck the faint sweet green +Where the wrist lies thus eased. I am right glad +I have no maids about to hasten me- +So I will rest and see my hair shed down +On either silk side of my woven sleeves, +Get some new way to bind it back with-yea, +Fair mirror-glass, I am well ware of you, +Yea, I know that, I am quite beautiful. +How my hair shines!-Fair face, be friends with me +And I will sing to you; look in my face +Now, and your mouth must help the song in mine. + + Alys la chatelaine + Voit venir de par Seine + Thiebault le capitaine + Qui parle ainsi! + +Was that the wind in the casement? nay, no more +But the comb drawn through half my hissing hair +Laid on my arms-yet my flesh moved at it. + + Dans ma camaille +Plus de clou qui vaille, +Dans ma cotte-maille +Plus de fer aussi. + +Ah, but I wrong the ballad-verse: what's good +In such frayed fringes of old rhymes, to make +Their broken burden lag with us? meseems +I could be sad now if I fell to think +The least sad thing; aye, that sweet lady's fool, +Fool sorrow, would make merry with mine eyes +For a small thing. Nay, but I will keep glad, +Nor shall old sorrow be false friends with me. +But my first wedding was not like to this- +Fair faces then and laughter and sweet game, +And a pale little mouth that clung on mine +When I had kissed him by the faded eyes +And either thin cheek beating with faint blood. +Well, he was sure to die soon; I do think +He would have given his body to be slain, +Having embraced my body. Now, God knows, +I have no man to do as much for me +As give me but a little of his blood +To fill my beauty from, though I go down +Pale to my grave for want-I think not. Pale- +I am too pale purely-Ah! + +[See him in the glass, coming forward.] + +CHASTELARD. +Be not afraid. + +QUEEN. +Saint Mary! what a shaken wit have I! +Nay, is it you? who let you through the doors? +Where be my maidens? which way got you in? +Nay, but stand up, kiss not my hands so hard; +By God's fair body, if you but breathe on them +You are just dead and slain at once. What adder +Has bit you mirthful mad? for by this light +A man to have his head laughed off for mirth +Is no great jest. Lay not your eyes on me; +What, would you not be slain? + +CHASTELARD. +I pray you, madam, +Bear with me a brief space and let me speak. +I will not touch your garments even, nor speak +But in soft wise, and look some other way, +If that it like you; for I came not here +For pleasure of the eyes; yet, if you will, +Let me look on you. + +QUEEN. +As you will, fair sir. +Give me that coif to gather in my hair- +I thank you-and my girdle-nay, that side. +Speak, if you will; yet if you will be gone, +Why, you shall go, because I hate you not. +You know that I might slay you with my lips, +With calling out? but I will hold my peace. + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, do some while. I had a thing to say; +I know not wholly what thing. O my sweet, +I am come here to take farewell of love +That I have served, and life that I have lived +Made up of love, here in the sight of you +That all my life's time I loved more than God, +Who quits me thus with bitter death for it. +For you well know that I must shortly die, +My life being wound about you as it is, +Who love me not; yet do not hate me, sweet, +But tell me wherein I came short of love; +For doubtless I came short of a just love, +And fell in some fool's fault that angered you. +Now that I talk men dig my grave for me +Out in the rain, and in a little while +I shall be thrust in some sad space of earth +Out of your eyes; and you, O you my love, +A newly-wedded lady full of mirth +And a queen girt with all good people's love, +You shall be fair and merry in all your days. +Is this so much for me to have of you? +Do but speak, sweet: I know these are no words +A man should say though he were now to die, +But I am as a child for love, and have +No strength at heart; yea, I am afraid to die, +For the harsh dust will lie upon my face +Too thick to see you past. Look how I love you; +I did so love you always, that your face +Seen through my sleep has wrung mine eyes to tears +For pure delight in you. Why do you thus? +You answer not, but your lips curl in twain +And your face moves; there, I shall make you weep +And be a coward too; it were much best +I should be slain. + +QUEEN. +Yea, best such folk were slain; +Why should they live to cozen fools with lies? +You would swear now you have used me faithfully; +Shall I not make you swear? I am ware of you: +You will not do it; nay, for the fear of God +You will not swear. Come, I am merciful; +God made a foolish woman, making me, +And I have loved your mistress with whole heart; +Say you do love her, you shall marry her +And she give thanks: yet I could wish your love +Had not so lightly chosen forth a face; +For your fair sake, because I hate you not. + +CHASTELARD. +What is to say? why, you do surely know +That since my days were counted for a man's +I have loved you; yea, how past all help and sense, +Whatever thing was bitter to my love, +I have loved you; how when I rode in war +Your face went floated in among men's helms, +Your voice went through the shriek of slipping swords; +Yea, and I never have loved women well, +Seeing always in my sight I had your lips +Curled over, red and sweet; and the soft space +Of carven brows, and splendor of great throat +Swayed lily-wise; what pleasure should one have +To wind his arms about a lesser love? +I have seen you; why, this were joy enough +For God's eyes up in heaven, only to see +And to come never nearer than I am. +Why, it was in my flesh, my bone and blood, +Bound in my brain, to love you; yea, and writ +All my heart over: if I would lie to you +I doubt I could not lie. Ah, you see now, +You know now well enough; yea, there, sweet love, +Let me kiss there. + +QUEEN. +I love you best of them. +Clasp me quite round till your lips cleave on mine, +False mine, that did you wrong. Forgive them dearly +As you are sweet to them; for by love's love +I am not that evil woman in my heart +That laughs at a rent faith. O Chastelard, +Since this was broken to me of your new love +I have not seen the face of a sweet hour. +Nay, if there be no pardon in a man, +What shall a woman have for loving him? +Pardon me, sweet. + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, so I pardon you, +And this side now; the first way. Would God please +To slay me so! who knows how he might please? +Now I am thinking, if you know it not, +How I might kill you, kiss your breath clean out, +And take your soul to bring mine through to God, +That our two souls might close and be one twain +Or a twain one, and God himself want skill +To set us either severally apart. +O, you must overlive me many years. +And many years my soul be in waste hell; +But when some time God can no more refrain +To lay death like a kiss across your lips, +And great lords bear you clothed with funeral things, +And your crown girded over deadly brows, +Then after you shall touch me with your eyes, +Remembering love was fellow with my flesh +Here in sweet earth, and make me well of love +And heal my many years with piteousness. + +QUEEN. +You talk too sadly and too feignedly. + +CHASTELARD. +Too sad, but not too feigned; I am sad +That I shall die here without feigning thus; +And without feigning I were fain to live. + +QUEEN. +Alas, you will be taken presently +And then you are but dead. Pray you get hence. + +CHASTELARD. +I will not. + +QUEEN. +Nay, for God's love be away; +You will be slain and I get shame. God's mercy! +You were stark mad to come here; kiss me, sweet. +Oh, I do love you more than all men! yea, +Take my lips to you, close mine eyes up fast, +So you leave hold a little; there, for pity, +Abide now, and to-morrow come to me. +Nay, lest one see red kisses in my throat- +Dear God! what shall I give you to be gone? + +CHASTELARD. +I will not go. Look, here's full night grown up; +Why should I seek to sleep away from here? +The place is soft and the lights burn for sleep; +Be not you moved; I shall lie well enough. + +QUEEN. +You are utterly undone. Sweet, by my life, +You shall be saved with taking ship at once. +For if you stay this foolish love's hour out +There is not ten days' likely life in you. +This is no choice. + +CHASTELARD. +Nay, for I will not go. + +QUEEN. +O me! this is that Bayard's blood of yours +That makes you mad; yea, and you shall not stay. +I do not understand. Mind, you must die. +Alas, poor lord, you have no sense of me; +I shall be deadly to you. + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, I saw that; +But I saw not that when my death's day came +You could be quite so sweet to me. + +QUEEN. +My love! +If I could kiss my heart's root out on you +You would taste love hid at the core of me. + +CHASTELARD. +Kiss me twice more. This beautiful bowed head +That has such hair with kissing ripples in +And shivering soft eyelashes and brows +With fluttered blood! but laugh a little, sweetly, +That I may see your sad mouth's laughing look +I have used sweet hours in seeing. O, will you weep? +I pray you do not weep. + +QUEEN. +Nay, dear, I have +No tears in me; I never shall weep much, +I think, in all my life; I have wept for wrath +Sometimes and for mere pain, but for love's pity +I cannot weep at all. I would to God +You loved me less; I give you all I can +For all this love of yours, and yet I am sure +I shall live out the sorrow of your death +And be glad afterwards. You know I am sorry. +I should weep now; forgive me for your part, +God made me hard, I think. Alas, you see +I had fain been other than I am. + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, love. +Comfort your heart. What way am I do die? + +QUEEN. +Ah, will you go yet, sweet? + +CHASTELARD. +No, by God's body. +You will not see? how shall I make you see? +Look, it may be love was a sort of curse +Made for my plague and mixed up with my days +Somewise in their beginning; or indeed +A bitter birth begotten of sad stars +At mine own body's birth, that heaven might make +My life taste sharp where other men drank sweet; +But whether in heavy body or broken soul, +I know it must go on to be my death. +There was the matter of my fate in me +When I was fashioned first, and given such life +As goes with a sad end; no fault but God's. +Yea, and for all this I am not penitent: +You see I am perfect in these sins of mine, +I have my sins writ in a book to read; +Now I shall die and be well done with this. +But I am sure you cannot see such things, +God knows I blame you not. + +QUEEN. +What shall be said? +You know most well that I am sorrowful. +But you should chide me. Sweet, you have seen fair wars, +Have seen men slain and ridden red in them; +Why will you die a chamberer's death like this? +What, shall no praise be written of my knight, +For my fame's sake? + +CHASTELARD. +Nay, no great praise, I think; +I will no more; what should I do with death, +Though I died goodly out of sight of you? +I have gone once: here am I set now, sweet, +Till the end come. That is your husband, hark, +He knocks at the outer door. Kiss me just once. +You know now all you have to say. Nay, love, +Let him come quickly. + +[Enter DARNLEY, and afterwards the MARIES.] + +DARNLEY. +Yea, what thing is here? +Ay, this was what the doors shut fast upon- +Ay, trust you to be fast at prayer, my sweet? +By God I have a mind- + +CHASTELARD. +What mind then, sir? +A liar's lewd mind, to coin sins for jest, +Because you take me in such wise as this? +Look you, I have to die soon, and I swear, +That am no liar but a free knight and lord, +I shall die clear of any sin to you, +Save that I came for no good will of mine; +I am no carle, I play fair games with faith, +And by mine honor for my sake I swear +I say but truth; for no man's sake save mine, +Lest I die shamed. Madam, I pray you say +I am no liar; you know me what I am, +A sinful man and shortly to be slain, +That in a simple insolence of love +Have stained with a fool's eyes your holy hours +And with a fool's words put your pity out; +Nathless you know if I be liar or no, +Wherefore for God's sake give me grace to swear +(Yea, for mine too) how past all praise you are +And stainless of all shame; and how all men +Lie, saying you are not most good and innocent, +Yea, the one thing good as God. + +DARNLEY. +O sir, we know +You can swear well, being taken; you fair French +Dare swallow God's name for a lewd love-sake +As it were water. Nay, we know, we know; +Save your sweet breath now lest you lack it soon: +We are simple, we; we have not heard of you. +Madam, by God you are well shamed in him: +Ay, trust you to be fingering in one's face, +Play with one's neck-chain? ah, your maiden's man, +A relic of your people's! + +CHASTELARD. +Hold your peace, +Or I will set an edge on your own lie +Shall scar yourself. Madam, have out your guard; +'T is time I were got hence. + +QUEEN. +Sweet Hamilton, +Hold you my hand and help me to sit down. +O Henry, I am beaten from my wits- +Let me have time and live; call out my people- +Bring forth some armed guard to lay hold on him: +But see no man be slain. +Sirs, hide your swords; +I will not have men slain. + +DARNLEY. +What, is this true? +Call the queen's people-help the queen there, you- +Ho, sirs, come in. + +[Enter some with the Guard.] + +QUEEN. +Lay hold upon that man; +Bear him away, but see he have no hurt. + +CHASTELARD. +Into your hands I render up myself +With a free heart; deal with me how you list, +But courteously, I pray you. Take my sword. +Farewell, great queen; the sweetness in your look +Makes life look bitter on me. Farewell, sirs. + +[He is taken out.] + +DARNLEY. +Yea, pluck him forth, and have him hanged by dawn; +He shall find bed enow to sleep. God's love! +That such a knave should be a knight like this! + +QUEEN. +Sir, peace awhile; this shall be as I please; +Take patience to you. Lords, I pray you see +All be done goodly; look they wrong him not. +Carmichael, you shall sleep with me to-night; +I am sorely shaken, even to the heart. Fair lords, +I thank you for your care. Sweet, stay by me. + +END OF THE THIRD ACT. + + + +ACT IV. + +MURRAY. + + +SCENE I.-The Queen's Lodging at St. Andrew's. + +The QUEEN and the four MARIES. + +QUEEN. +Why will you break my heart with praying to me? +You Seyton, you Carmichael, you have wits, +You are not all run to tears; you do not think +It is my wrath or will that whets this axe +Against his neck? + +MARY SEYTON. +Nay, these three weeks agone +I said the queen's wrath was not sharp enough +To shear a neck. + +QUEEN. +Sweet, and you did me right, +And look you, what my mercy bears to fruit, +Danger and deadly speech and a fresh fault +Before the first was cool in people's lips; +A goodly mercy: and I wash hands of it.- +Speak you, there; have you ever found me sharp? +You weep and whisper with sloped necks and heads +Like two sick birds; do you think shame of me? +Nay, I thank God none can think shame of me; +But am I bitter, think you, to men's faults? +I think I am too merciful, too meek: +Why if I could I would yet save this man; +'T is just boy's madness; a soft stripe or two +Would do to scourge the fault in his French blood. +I would fain let him go. You, Hamilton, +You have a heart thewed harder than my heart; +When mine would threat it sighs, and wrath in it +Has a bird's flight and station, starves before +It can well feed or fly; my pulse of wrath +Sounds tender as the running down of tears. +You are the hardest woman I have known, +Your blood has frost and cruel gall in it, +You hold men off with bitter lips and eyes- +Such maidens should serve England; now, perfay, +I doubt you would have got him slain at once. +Come, would you not? come, would you let him live? + +MARY HAMILTON. +Yes-I think yes; I cannot tell; maybe +I would have seen him punished. + +QUEEN. +Look you now, +There's maiden mercy; I would have him live- +For all my wifehood maybe I weep too; +Here's a mere maiden falls to slaying at once, +Small shrift for her; God keep us from such hearts! +I am a queen too that would have him live, +But one that has no wrong and is no queen, +She would-What are you saying there, you twain? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +I said a queen's face and so fair an one's +Would lose no grace for giving grace away; +That gift comes back upon the mouth it left +And makes it sweeter, and set fresh red on it. + +QUEEN. +This comes of sonnets when the dance draws breath; +These talking times will make a dearth of grace. +But you-what ails you that your lips are shut? +Weep, if you will; here are four friends of yours +To weep as fast for pity of your tears. +Do you desire him dead? nay, but men say +He was your friend, he fought them on your side, +He made you songs-God knows what songs he made! +Speak you for him a little: will you not? + +MARY BEATON. +Madam, I have no words. + +QUEEN. +No words? no pity- +Have you no mercies for such men? God help! +It seems I am the meekest heart on earth- +Yea, the one tender woman left alive, +And knew it not. I will not let him live, +For all my pity of him. + +MARY BEATON. +Nay, but, madam, +For God's love look a little to this thing. +If you do slay him you are but shamed to death; +All men will cry upon you, women weep, +Turning your sweet name bitter with their tears; +Red shame grow up out of your memory +And burn his face that would speak well of you: +You shall have no good word nor pity, none, +Till some such end be fallen upon you: nay, +I am but cold, I knew I had no words, +I will keep silence. + +QUEEN. +Yea now, as I live, +I wist not of it: troth, he shall not die. +See you, I am pitiful, compassionate, +I would not have men slain for my love's sake, +But if he live to do me three times wrong, +Why then my shame would grow up green and red +Like any flower. I am not whole at heart; +In faith, I wot not what such things should be; +I doubt it is but dangerous; he must die. + +MARY BEATON. +Yea, but you will not slay him. + +QUEEN. +Swear me that, +I'll say he shall not die for your oath's sake. +What will you do for grief when he is dead? + +MARY BEATON. +Nothing for grief, but hold my peace and die. + +QUEEN. +Why, for your sweet sake one might let him live; +But the first fault was a green seed of shame, +And now the flower, and deadly fruit will come +With apple-time in autumn. By my life, +I would they had slain him there in Edinburgh; +But I reprieve him; lo the thank I get, +To set the base folk muttering like smoked bees +Of shame and love, and how love comes to shame, +And the queen loves shame that comes of love; +Yet I say nought and go about my ways, +And this mad fellow that I respited +Being forth and free, lo now the second time +Ye take him by my bed in wait. Now see +If I can get good-will to pardon him; +With what a face may I crave leave of men +To respite him, being young and a good knight +And mad for perfect love? shall I go say, +Dear lords, because ye took him shamefully, +Let him not die; because his fault is foul, +Let him not die; because if he do live +I shall be held a harlot of all men, +I pray you, sweet sirs, that he may not die? + +MARY BEATON. +Madam, for me I would not have him live; +Mine own heart's life was ended with my fame, +And my life's breath will shortly follow them; +So that I care not much; for you wot well +I have lost love and shame and fame and all +To no good end; nor while he had his life +Have I got good of him that was my love, +Save that for courtesy (which may God quit) +He kissed me once as one might kiss for love +Out of great pity for me; saving this, +He never did me grace in all his life. +And when you have slain him, madam, it may be +I shall get grace of him in some new way +In a new place, if God have care of us. + +QUEEN. +Bid you my brother to me presently. + +[Exeunt MARIES.] + +And yet the thing is pitiful; I would +There were some way. To send him overseas, +Out past the long firths to the cold keen sea +Where the sharp sound is that one hears up here- +Or hold him in strong prison till he died- +He would die shortly-or to set him free +And use him softly till his brains were healed- +There is no way. Now never while I live +Shall we twain love together any more +Nor sit at rhyme as we were used to do, +Nor each kiss other only with the eyes +A great way off ere hand or lip could reach; +There is no way. + +[Enter MURRAY.] + +O, you are welcome, sir; +You know what need I have; but I praise heaven, +Having such need, I have such help of you. +I do believe no queen God ever made +Was better holpen than I look to be. +What, if two brethren love not heartily, +Who shall be good to either one of them? + +MURRAY. +Madam, I have great joy of your good will. + +QUEEN. +I pray you, brother, use no courtesies: +I have some fear you will not suffer me +When I shall speak. Fear is a fool, I think, +Yet hath he wit enow to fool my wits, +Being but a woman's. Do not answer me +Till you shall know; yet if you have a word +I shall be fain to heart it; but I think +There is no word to help me; no man's word: +There be two things yet that should do me good, +A speeding arm and a great heart. My lord, +I am soft-spirited as women are, +And ye wot well I have no harder heart: +Yea, with all my will I would not slay a thing, +But all should live right sweetly if I might; +So that man's blood-spilling lies hard on me. +I have a work yet for mine honor's sake, +A thing to do, God wot I know not how, +Nor how to crave it of you: nay, by heaven, +I will not shame myself to show it you: +I have not heart. + +MURRAY. +Why, if it may be done +With any honor, or with good men's excuse, +I shall well do it. + +QUEEN. +I would I wist that well. +Sir, do you love me? + +MURRAY. +Yea, you know I do. + +QUEEN. +In faith, you should well love me, for I love +The least man in your following for your sake +With a whole sister's heart. + +MURRAY. +Speak simply, madam; +I must obey you, being your bounden man. + +QUEEN. +Sir, so it is you know what things have been, +Even to the endangering of mine innocent name, +And by no fault, but by men's evil will; +If Chastelard have trial openly, +I am but shamed. + +MURRAY. +This were a wound indeed, +If your good name should lie upon his lip. + +QUEEN. +I will the judges put him not to plead, +For my fame's sake; he shall not answer them. + +MURRAY. +What, think you he will speak against your fame? + +QUEEN. +I know not; men might feign belief of him +For hate of me; it may be he will speak; +In brief, I will not have him held to proof. + +MURRAY. +Well, if this be, what good is to be done? + +QUEEN. +Is there no way but he must speak to them, +Being had to trial plainly? + +MURRAY. +I think, none. + +QUEEN. +Now mark, my lord; I swear he will not speak. + +MURRAY. +It were the best if you could make that sure. + +QUEEN. +There is one way. Look, sir, he shall not do it: +Shall not, or will not, either is one way; +I speak as I would have you understand. + +MURRAY. +Let me not guess at you; speak certainly. + +QUEEN. +You will not mind me: let him be removed; +Take means to get me surety; there be means. + +MURRAY. +So, in your mind, I have to slay the man? + +QUEEN. +Is there a mean for me to save the man? + +MURRAY. +Truly I see no mean except your love. + +QUEEN. +What love is that, my lord? what think you of, +Talking of love and of love's mean in me +And of your guesses and of slaying him? +Why, I say nought, have nought to say: God help me! +I bid you but take surety of the man, +Get him removed. + +MURRAY. +Come, come, be clear with me; +You bid me to despatch him privily. + +QUEEN. +God send me sufferance! I bid you, sir? +Nay, do not go; what matter if I did? +Nathless I never bade you; no, by God. +Be not so wroth; you are my brother born; +Why do you dwell upon me with such eyes? +For love of God you should not bear me hard. + +MURRAY. +What, are you made of flesh? + +QUEEN. +O, now I see +You had rather lose your wits to do me harm +Than keep sound wits to help me. + +MURRAY. +It is right strange; +The worst man living hath some fear, some love, +Holds somewhat dear a little for life's sake, +Keeps fast to some compassion; you have none; +You know of nothing that remembrance knows +To make you tender. I must slay the man? +Nay, I will do it. + +QUEEN. +Do, if you be not mad. +I am sorry for him; and he must needs die. +I would I were assured you hate me not: +I have no heart to slay him by my will. +I pray you think not bitterly of me. + +MURRAY. +Is it your pleasure such a thing were done? + +QUEEN. +Yea, by God's body is it, certainly. + +MURRAY. +Nay, for your love then, and for honor's sake, +This thing must be. + +QUEEN. +Yea, should I set you on? +Even for my love then, I beseech you, sir, +To seek him out, and lest he prate of me +To put your knife into him ere he come forth: +Meseems this were not such wild work to do. + +MURRAY. +I'll have him in the prison taken off. + +QUEEN. +I am bounden to you, even for my name's sake, +When that is done. + +MURRAY. +I pray you fear me not. +Farewell. I would such things were not to do, +Or not for me; yea, not for any man. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. +Alas, what honor have I to give thanks? +I would he had denied me: I had held my peace +Thenceforth forever; but he wrung out the word, +Caught it before my lip, was fain of it- +It was his fault to put it in my mind, +Yea, and to feign a loathing of his fault. +Now is he about devising my love's death, +And nothing loth. Nay, since he must needs die, +Would he were dead and come alive again +And I might keep him safe. He doth live now +And I may do what love I will to him; +But by to-morrow he will be stark dead, +Stark slain and dead; and for no sort of love +Will he so much as kiss me half a kiss. +Were this to do I would not do it again. + +[Reenter MURRAY.] + +What, have you taken order? is it done? +It were impossible to do so soon. +Nay, answer me. + +MURRAY. +Madam, I will not do it. + +QUEEN. +How did you say? I pray, sir, speak again: +I know not what you said. + +MURRAY. +I say I will not; +I have thought thereof, and have made up my heart +To have no part in this: look you to it. + +QUEEN. +O, for God's sake! you will not have me shamed? + +MURRAY. +I will not dip my hand into your sin. + +QUEEN. +It were a good deed to deliver me; +I am but a woman, of one blood with you, +A feeble woman; put me not to shame; +I pray you of your pity do me right. +Yea, and no fleck of blood shall cleave to you +For a just deed. + +MURRAY. +I know not; I will none. + +QUEEN. +O, you will never let him speak to them +To put me in such shame? why, I should die +Out of pure shame and mine own burning blood; +Yea, my face feels the shame lay hold on it, +I am half burnt already in my thought; +Take pity of me. Think how shame slays a man; +How shall I live then? would you have me dead? +I pray you for our dead dear father's sake, +Let not men mock at me. Nay, if he speak, +I shall be sung in mine own towns. Have pity. +What, will you let men stone me in the ways? + +MURRAY. +Madam, I shall take pains the best I may +To save your honor, and what thing lieth in me +That will I do, but no close manslayings. +I will not have God's judgment gripe my throat +When I am dead, to hale me into hell +For a man's sake slain on this wise. Take heed. +See you to that. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. +One of you maidens there +Bid my lord hither. Now by Mary's soul, +He shall not die and bring me into shame. +There's treason in you like a fever, hot, +My holy-natured brother, cheek and eye; +You look red through with it: sick, honor-sick, +Specked with the blain of treason, leper-like- +A scrupulous fair traitor with clean lips- +If one should sue to hell to do him good +He were as brotherly holpen as I am. +This man must live and say no harm of me; +I may reprieve and cast him forth; yea, so- +This were the best; or if he die midway- +Yea, anything, so that he die not here. + +[To the MARIES within.] + +Fetch hither Darnley. Nay, ye gape on me- +What, doth he sleep, or feeds, or plays at games? +Why, I would see him; I am weary for his sake; +Bid my lord in.-Nathless he will but chide; +Nay, fleer and laugh: what should one say to him? +There were some word if one could hit on it; +Some way to close with him: I wot not.-Sir, + +[Enter DARNLEY.] + +Please it your love I have a suit to you. + +DARNLEY. +What sort of suit? + +QUEEN. +Nay, if you be not friends- +I have no suit towards mine enemies. + +DARNLEY. +Eh, do I look now like your enemy? + +QUEEN. +You have a way of peering under brow +I do not like. If you see anything +In me that irks you I will painfully +Labor to lose it: do but show me favor, +And as I am your faithful humble wife +This foolishness shall be removed in me. + +DARNLEY. +Why do you laugh and mock me with stretched hands? +Faith, I see no such thing. + +QUEEN. +That is well seen. +Come, I will take my heart between my lips, +Use it not hardly. Sir, my suit begins; +That you would please to make me that I am, +(In sooth I think I am) mistress and queen +Of mine own people. + +DARNLEY. +Why, this is no suit; +This is a simple matter, and your own. + +QUEEN. +It was, before God made you king of me. + +DARNLEY. +No king, by God's grace; were I such a king +I'd sell my kingdom for six roods of rye. + +QUEEN. +You are too sharp upon my words; I would +Have leave of you to free a man condemned. + +DARNLEY. +What man is that, sweet? + +QUEEN. +Such a mad poor man +As God desires us use not cruelly. + +DARNLEY. +Is there no name a man may call him by? + +QUEEN. +Nay, my fair master, what fair game is this? +Why, you do know him, it is Chastelard. + +DARNLEY. +Ay, is it soothly? + +QUEEN. +By my life, it is; +Sweet, as you tender me, so pardon him. + +DARNLEY. +As he doth tender you, so pardon me; +For if it were the mean to save my life +He should not live a day. + +QUEEN. +Nay, shall not he? + +DARNLEY. +Look what an evil wit old Fortune hath: +Why, I came here to get his time cut off. +This second fault is meat for lewd men's mouths; +You were best have him slain at once: 'tis hot. + +QUEEN. +Give me the warrant, and sit down, my lord. +Why, I will sign it; what, I understand +How this must be. Should not my name stand here? + +DARNLEY. +Yea, there, and here the seal. + +QUEEN. +Ay, so you say. +Shall I say too what I am thinking of? + +DARNLEY. +Do, if you will. + +QUEEN. +I do not like your suit. + +DARNLEY. +'Tis of no Frenchman fashion. + +QUEEN. +No, God wot; +'Tis nowise great men's fashion in French land +To clap a headsman's taberd on their backs. + +DARNLEY. +No, madam? + +QUEEN. +No; I never wist of that. +Is it a month gone I did call you lord? +I chose you by no straying stroke of sight, +But with my heart to love you heartily. +Did I wrong then? did mine eye draw my heart? +I know not; sir, it may be I did wrong: +And yet to love you; and would choose again, +Against to choose you. + +DARNLEY. +There, I love you too; +Take that for sooth, and let me take this hence. + +QUEEN. +O, do you think I hold you off with words? +Why, take it then; there is my handwriting, +And here the hand that you shall slay him with. +'Tis a fair hand, a maiden-colored one: +I doubt yet it has never slain a man. +You never fought yet save for game, I wis. +Nay, thank me not, but have it from my sight; +Go and make haste for fear he be got forth: +It may be such a man is dangerous; +Who knows what friends he hath? and by my faith +I doubt he hath seen some fighting, I do fear +He hath fought and shed men's blood; ye are wise men +That will not leave such dangerous things alive; +'T were well he died the sooner for your sakes. +Pray you make haste; it is not fit he live. + +DARNLEY. +What, will you let him die so easily? + +QUEEN. +Why, God have mercy! what way should one take +To please such people? there's some cunning way, +Something I miss, out of my simple soul. +What, must one say "Beseech you do no harm," +Or "for my love, sweet cousins, be not hard," +Or "let him live but till the vane come round"- +Will such things please you? well then, have your way; +Sir, I desire you, kneeling down with tears, +With sighs and tears, fair sir, require of you, +Considering of my love I bear this man, +Just for my love's sake let him not be hanged +Before the sundown; do thus much for me, +To have a queen's prayers follow after you. + +DARNLEY. +I know no need for you to gibe at me. + +QUEEN. +Alack, what heart then shall I have to jest? +There is no woman jests in such a wise- +For the shame's sake I pray you hang him not, +Seeing how I love him, save indeed in silk, +Sweet twisted silk of my sad handiwork. +Nay, and you will not do so much for me; +You vex your lip, biting the blood and all: +Were this so hard, and you compassionate? +I am in sore case then, and will weep indeed. + +DARNLEY. +What do you mean to cast such gibes at me? + +QUEEN. +Woe's me, and will you turn my tears to thorns? +Nay, set your eyes a little in my face; +See, do I weep? what will you make of me? +Will you not swear I love this prisoner? +Ye are wise, and ye will have it; yet for me +I wist not of it. We are but feeble fools, +And love may catch us when we lie asleep +And yet God knows we know not this a whit. +Come, look on me, swear you believe it not: +It may be I will take your word for that. + +DARNLEY. +Do you not love him? nay, but verily? + +QUEEN. +Now then, make answer to me verily, +Which of us twain is wiser? for my part +I will not swear I love not, if you will; +Ye be wise men and many men, my lords, +And ye will have me love him, ye will swear +That I do love him; who shall say ye lie? +Look on your paper; maybe I have wept: +Doubtless I love your hanged man in my heart. +What, is the writing smutched or gone awry? +Or blurred-ay, surely so much-with one tear, +One little sharp tear strayed on it by chance? +Come, come, the man is deadly dangerous; +Let him die presently. + +DARNLEY. +You do not love him; +Well, yet he need not die; it were right hard +To hang the fool because you love him not. + +QUEEN. +You have keen wits and thereto courtesy +To catch me with. No, let this man not die; +It were no such perpetual praise to you +To be his doomsman and in doglike wise +Bite his brief life in twain. + +DARNLEY. +Truly it were not. + +QUEEN. +Then for your honor and my love of you +(Oh, I do love you! but you know not, sweet, +You shall see how much), think you for their sake +He may go free? + +DARNLEY. +How, freely forth of us? +But yet he loves you, and being mad with love +Makes matter for base mouths to chew upon: +'T were best he live not yet. + +QUEEN. +Will you say that? + +DARNLEY. +Why should he live to breed you bad reports? +Let him die first. + +QUEEN. +Sweet, for your sake, not so. + +DARNLEY. +Fret not yourself to pity; let him die. + +QUEEN. +Come, let him live a little; it shall be +A grace to us. + +DARNLEY. +By God he dies at once. + +QUEEN. +Now, by God's mother, if I respite him, +Though you were all the race of you in one +And had more tongues than hairs to cry on me +He should not lose a hair. + +DARNLEY. +This is mere mercy- +But you thank God you love him not a whit? + +QUEEN. +It shall be what it please; and if I please +It shall be anything. Give me the warrant. + +DARNLEY. +Nay, for your sake and love of you, not I, +To make it dangerous. + +QUEEN. +O, God' pity, sir! +You are tender of me; will you serve me so, +Against mine own will, show me so much love, +Do me good service that I loath being done, +Out of pure pity? + +DARNLEY. +Nay, your word shall stand. + +QUEEN. +What makes you gape so beastlike after blood? +Were you not bred up on some hangman's hire +And dicted with fleshmeats at his hand +And fed into a fool? Give me that paper. + +DARNLEY. +Now for that word I will not. + +QUEEN. +Nay, sweet love, +For your own sake be just a little wise; +Come, I beseech you. + +DARNLEY. +Pluck not at my hands. + +QUEEN. +No, that I will not: I am brain-broken, mad; +Pity my madness for sweet marriage-sake +And my great love's; I love you to say this; +I would not have you cross me, out of love. +But for true love should I not chafe indeed? +And now I do not. + +DARNLEY. +Yea, and late you chid, +You chafed and jested and blew soft and hard- +No, for that "fool" you shall not fool me so. + +QUEEN. +You are no churl, sweet, will you see me weep? +Look, I weep now; be friends with my poor tears, +Think each of them beseeches you of love +And hath some tongue to cry on you for love +And speak soft things; for that which loves not you +Is none of mine, not though they grow of grief +And grief of you; be not too hard with them. +You would not of your own heart slay a man; +Nay, if you will, in God's name make me weep, +I will not hate you; but at heart, sweet lord, +Be not at heart my sweet heart's enemy. +If I had many mighty men to friend +I would not plead too lovingly with you +To have your love. + +DARNLEY. +Why, yet you have my love. + +QUEEN. +Alas, what shall mine enemies do to me +If he be used so hardly of my friends? +Come, sir, you hate me; yet for all your hate +You cannot have such heart. + +DARNLEY. +What sort of heart? +I have no heart to be used shamefully +If you mean that. + +QUEEN. +Would God I loved you not; +You are too hard to be used lovingly. + +DARNLEY. +You are moved too much for such a little love +As you bear me. + +QUEEN. +God knows you do me wrong; +God knows the heart, sweet, that I love you with. +Hark you, fair sir, I'd have all well with you; +Do you not fear at sick men's time of night +What end may come? are you so sure of heart? +Is not your spirit surprisable in sleep? +Have you no evil dreams? Nay, look you, love, +I will not be flung off you heart and hand, +I am no snake: but tell me for your love +Have you no fancies how these things will end +In the pit's mouth? how all life-deeds will look +At the grave's edge that lets men into hell? +For my part, who am weak and woman-eyed, +It turns my soul tears: I doubt this blood +Fallen on our faces when we twain are dead +Will scar and burn them: yea, for heaven is sweet, +And loves sweet deeds that smell not of split blood. +Let us not kill: God that made mercy first +Pities the pitiful for their deed's sake. + +DARNLEY. +Get you some painting; with a cheek like this +You'll find no faith in listeners. + +QUEEN. +How, fair lord? + +DARNLEY. +I say that looking with this face of yours +None shall believe you holy; what, you talk, +Take mercy in your mouth, eat holiness, +Put God under your tongue and feed on heaven, +With fear and faith and-faith, I know not what- +And look as though you stood and saw men slain +To make you game and laughter; nay, your eyes +Threaten as unto blood. What will you do +To make men take your sweet word? pitiful- +You are pitiful as he that's hired for death +And loves the slaying yet better than the hire. + +QUEEN. +You are wise that live to threat and tell me so; +Do you love life too much? + +DARNLEY. +O, now you are sweet, +Right tender now: you love not blood nor death, +You are too tender. + +QUEEN. +Yea, too weak, too soft: +Sweet, do not mock me, for my love's sake; see +How soft a thing I am. Will you be hard? +The heart you have, has it no sort of fear? + +DARNLEY. +Take off your hand and let me go my way +And do the deed, and when the doing is past +I will come home and teach you tender things +Out of my love till you forget my wrath. +I will be angry when I see good need, +And will grow gentle after, fear not that: +You shall get no wrong of my wrongdoing. +So I take leave. + +QUEEN. +Take what you will; take all; +You have taken half my heart away with words: +Take all I have, and take no leave; I have +No leave to give: yea, shortly shall lack leave, +I think, to live; but I crave none of you; +I would have none: yet for the love I have, +If I get ever a man to show it you, +I pray God put you some day in my hand +That you may take that too. + +DARNLEY. +Well, as he please; +God keep you in such love; and so farewell. + +[Exit.] + +QUEEN. +So fare I as your lover, but not well.- +Ah sweet, if God be ever good to me +To put you in my hand! I am come to shame; +Let me think now, and let my wits not go; +God, for dear mercy, let me not forget +Why I should be so angry; the dull blood +Beats at my face and blinds me-I am chafted to death, +And I am shamed; I shall go mad and die. +Truly I think I did kneel down, did pray, +Yea, weep (who knows?) it may be-all for that. +Yea, if I wept not, this was blood brake forth +And burnt mine eyelids; I will have blood back, +And wash them cool in the hottest of his heart, +Or I will slay myself: I cannot tell: +I have given gold for brass, and lo the pay +Cleaves to my fingers: there's no way to mend- +Not while life stays: would God that it were gone! +The fool will feed upon my fame and laugh; +Till one seal up his tongue and lips with blood, +He carries half my honor and good name +Between his teeth. Lord God, mine head will fail! +When have I done thus since I was alive? +And these ill times will deal but ill with me- +My old love slain, and never a new to help, +And my wits gone, and my blithe use of life, +And all the grace was with me. Love-perchance +If I save love I shall well save myself. +I could find heart to bid him take such fellows +And kill them to my hand. I was the fool +To sue to these and shame myself: God knows +I was a queen born, I will hold their heads +Here in my hands for this. Which of you waits? + +[Enter MARY BEATON and MARY CARMICHAEL.] + +No maiden of them?-what, no more than this? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Madam, the lady Seyton is gone forth; +She is ill at heart with watching. + +QUEEN. +Ay, at heart- +All girls must have such tender sides to the heart +They break for one night's watching, ache to death +For an hour's pity, for a half-hour's love- +Wear out before the watches, die by dawn, +And ride at noon to burial. God's my pity! +Where's Hamilton? doth she ail too? at heart, +I warrant her at heart. + +MARY BEATON. +I know not, madam. + +QUEEN. +What, sick or dead? I am well holpen of you: +Come hither to me. What pale blood you have- +Is it for fear you turn such cheeks to me? +Why, if I were so loving, by my hand, +I would have set my head upon the chance, +And loosed him though I died. What will you do? +Have you no way? + +MARY BEATON. +None but your mercy. + +QUEEN. +Ay? +Why then the thing is piteous. Think, for God's sake- +Is there no loving way to fetch him forth? +Nay, what a white thin-blooded thing is love, +To help no more than this doth! Were I in love, +I would unbar the ways to-night and then +Laugh death to death to-morrow, mock him dead; +I think you love well with one half your heart, +And let fear keep the other. Hark you now, +You said there was some friend durst break my bars- +Some Scotch name-faith, as if I wist of it! +Ye have such heavy wits to help one with- +Some man that had some mean to save him by- +Tush, I must be at pains for you! + +MARY BEATON. +Nay, madam, +It were no boot; he will not be let forth. + +QUEEN. +I say, the name. O, Robert Erskine-yea, +A fellow of some heart: what saith he? + +MARY BEATON. +Madam, +The thing was sound all through, yea, all went well, +But for all prayers that we could make to him +He would not fly: we cannot get him forth. + +QUEEN. +Great God! that men should have such wits as this! +I have a mind to let him die for that; +And yet I wot not. Said he, he loathed his life? + +MARY BEATON. +He says your grace given would scathe yourself, +And little grace for such a grace as that +Be with the little of his life he kept +To cast off some time more unworthily. + +QUEEN. +God help me! what should wise folk do with him? +These men be weaker-witted than mere fools +When they fall mad once; yet by Mary's soul +I am sorrier for him than for men right wise. +God wot a fool that were more wise than he +Would love me something worse than Chastelard, +Ay, and his own soul better. Do you think +(There's no such other sort of fool alive) +That he may live? + +MARY BEATON. +Yea, by God's mercy, madam, +To your great praise and honor from all men +If you should keep him living. + +QUEEN. +By God's light, +I have good will to do it. Are you sure, +If I would pack him with a pardon hence, +He would speak well of me-not hint and halt, +Smile and look back, sigh and say love runs out, +But times have been-with some loose laugh cut short, +Bit off at lip-eh? + +MARY BEATON. +No, by heaven he would not. + +QUEEN. +You know how quickly one may be belied- +Faith, you should know it-I never thought the worst, +One may touch love and come with clean hands off- +But you should know it. What, he will not fly- +Not though I wink myself asleep, turn blind- +Which that I will I say not? + +MARY BEATON. +Nay, not he; +We had good hope to bring him well aboard, +Let him slip safe down by the firths to sea, +Out under Leith by night-setting, and thence +Take ship for France and serve there out of sight +In the new wars. + +QUEEN. +Ay, in the new French wars- +You wist thereof too, madam, with good leave- +A goodly bait to catch mine honor with +And let me wake up with my name bit through. +I had been much bounden to you twain, methinks, +But for my knight's sake and his love's; by God, +He shall not die in God's despite nor mine. +Call in our chief lords; bid one see to it: +Ay, and make haste. + +[Exeunt MARY BEATON and MARY CARMICHAEL.] + +Now shall I try their teeth: +I have done with fear; now nothing but pure love +And power and pity shall have part in me; +I will not throw them such a spirit in flesh +To make their prey on. Though he be mad indeed, +It is the goodliest madness ever smote +Upon man's heart. A kingly knight-in faith, +Meseems my face can yet make faith in men +And break their brains with beauty: for a word, +An eyelid's twitch, an eye's turn, tie them fast +And make their souls cleave to me. God be thanked, +This air has not yet curdled all the blood +That went to make me fair. An hour agone, +I thought I had been forgotten of men's love +More than dead women's faces are forgot +Of after lovers. All men are not of earth: +For all the frost of fools and this cold land +There be some yet catch fever of my face +And burning for mine eyes' sake. I did think +My time was gone when men would dance to death +As to a music, and lie laughing down +In the grave and take their funerals for their feasts, +To get one kiss of me. I have some strength yet, +Though I lack power on men that lack men's blood. +Yea, and God wot I will be merciful; +For all the foolish hardness round my heart +That tender women miss of to their praise, +They shall not say but I had grace to give +Even for love's sake. Why, let them take their way: +What ails it them though I be soft or hard? +Soft hearts would weep and weep and let men die +For very mercy and sweet-heartedness; +I that weep little for my pity's sake, +I have the grace to save men. Let fame go- +I care not much what shall become of fame, +So I save love and do mine own soul right; +I'll have my mercy help me to revenge +On all the crew of them. How will he look, +Having my pardon! I shall have sweet thanks +And love of good men for my mercy's love- +Yea, and be quit of these I hate to death, +With one good deed. + +[Enter the MARIES.] + +MARY BEATON. +Madam, the lords are here. + +QUEEN. +Stand you about me, I will speak to them. +I would the whole world stood up in my face +And heard what I shall say. Bid them come in. + +[Enter MURRAY, RANDOLPH, MORTON, LINDSAY, +and other LORDS.] + +Hear you, fair lords, I have a word to you; +There is one thing I would fain understand- +If I be queen or no; for by my life +Methinks I am growing unqueenly. No man speak? +Pray you take note, sweet lord ambassador, +I am no queen: I never was born queen; +Alack, that one should fool us in this wise! +Take up my crown, sir, I will none of it +Till it hath bells on as a fool's cap hath. +Nay, who will have it? no man take it up? +Was there none worthy to be shamed but I? +Here are enow good faces, good to crown; +Will you be king, fair brother? or you, my lord? +Give me a spinner's curch, a wisp of reed, +Any mean thing; but, God's love, no more gold, +And no more shame: let boys throw dice for it, +Or cast it to the grooms for tennis-play, +For I will none. + +MURRAY. +What would your highness have? + +QUEEN. +Yea, yea, I said I was no majesty; +I shall be shortly fallen out of grace. +What would I have? I would have leave to live; +Perchance I shall not shortly: nay, for me +That have no leave to respite other lives +To keep mine own life were small praise enow. + +MURRAY. +Your majesty hath power to respite men, +As we well wot; no man saith otherwise. + +QUEEN. +What, is this true? 't is a thing wonderful- +So great I cannot be well sure of it. +Strange that a queen should find such grace as this +At such lords' hands as ye be, such great lords: +I pray you let me get assured again, +Lest I take jest for truth and shame myself +And make you mirth: to make your mirth of me, +God wot it were small pains to you, my lords, +But much less honor. I may send reprieve- +With your sweet leaves I may? + +MURRAY. +Assuredly. + +QUEEN. +Lo, now, what grace is this I have of you! +I had a will to respite Chastelard, +And would not do it for very fear of you: +Look you, I wist not ye were merciful. + +MORTON. +Madam- + +QUEEN. +My lord, you have a word to me? +Doth it displease you such a man should live? + +MORTON. +'T were a mad mercy in your majesty +To lay no hand upon his second fault +And let him thrice offend you. + +QUEEN. +Ay, my lord? + +MORTON. +It were well done to muffle lewd men's mouths +By casting of his head into their laps: +It were much best. + +QUEEN. +Yea, truly were it so? +But if I will not, yet I will not, sir, +For all the mouths in Scotland. Now, by heaven, +As I am pleased he shall not die but live, +So shall ye be. There is no man shall die, +Except it please me; and no man shall say, +Except it please me, if I do ill or well. +Which of you now will set his will to mine? +Not you, nor you I think, nor none of you, +Nor no man living that loves living well. +Let one stand forth and smite me with his hand, +Wring my crown off and cast it underfoot, +And he shall get my respite back of me, +And no man else: he shall bid live or die, +And no man else; and he shall be my lord, +And no man else. What, will not one be king? +Will not one here lay hold upon my state? +I am queen of you for all things come and gone. +Nay, my chief lady, and no meaner one, +The chiefest of my maidens, shall bear this +And give it to my prisoner for a grace; +Who shall deny me? who shall do me wrong? +Bear greeting to the lord of Chastelard, +And this withal for respite of his life, +For by my head he shall die no such way: +Nay, sweet, no words, but hence and back again. + +[Exit MARY BEATON.] + +Farewell, dear lords; ye have shown grace to me, +And some time I will thank you as I may; +Till when think well of me and what is done. + + +END OF THE FOURTH ACT. + + + +ACT V. + +CHASTELARD. + + +SCENE I.-Before Holyrood. A crowd of people; +among them Soldiers, Burgesses, a Preacher, &c. + + +1ST CITIZEN. +They are not out yet. Have you seen the man? +What manner of man? + +2D CITIZEN. +Shall he be hanged or no? +There was a fellow hanged some three days gone +Wept the whole way: think you this man shall die +In better sort, now? + +1ST CITIZEN. +Eh, these shawm-players +That walk before strange women and make songs! +How should they die well? + +3D CITIZEN. +Is it sooth men say +Our dame was wont to kiss him on the face +In lewd folk's sight? + +1ST CITIZEN. +Yea, saith one, all day long +He used to sit and jangle words in rhyme +To suit with shakes of faint adulterous sound +Some French lust in men's ears; she made songs too, +Soft things to feed sin's amorous mouth upon- +Delicate sounds for dancing at in hell. + +4TH CITIZEN. +Is it priest Black that he shall have by him +When they do come? + +3D CITIZEN. +Ah! by God's leave, not so; +If the knave show us his peeled onion's head +And that damned flagging jowl of his- + +2D CITIZEN. +Nay, sirs, +Take heed of words; moreover, please it you, +This man hath no pope's part in him. + +3D CITIZEN. +I say +That if priest whore's friend with the lewd thief's cheek +Show his foul blinking face to shame all ours, +It goes back fouler; well, one day hell's fire +Will burn him black indeed. + +A WOMAN. +What kind of man? +'T is yet great pity of him if he be +Goodly enow for this queen's paramour. +A French lord overseas? what doth he here, +With Scotch folk here? + +1ST CITIZEN. +Fair mistress, I think well +He doth so at some times that I were fain +To do as well. + +THE WOMAN. +Nay, then he will not die. + +1ST CITIZEN. +Why, see you, if one eat a piece of bread +Baked as it were a certain prophet's way, +Not upon coals, now-you shall apprehend- +If defiled bread be given a man to eat, +Being thrust into his mouth, why he shall eat, +And with good hap shall eat; but if now, say, +One steal this, bread and beastliness and all, +When scarcely for pure hunger flesh and bone +Cleave one to other-why, if he steal to eat, +Be it even the filthiest feeding-though the man +Be famine-flayed of flesh and skin, I say +He shall be hanged. + +3D CITIZEN. +Nay, stolen said you, sir? +See, God bade eat abominable bread, +And freely was it eaten-for a sign +This, for a sign-and doubtless as did God, +So may the devil; bid one eat freely and live, +Not for a sign. + +2D CITIZEN. +Will you think thus of her? +But wherefore should they get this fellow slain +If he be clear toward her? + +3D CITIZEN. +Sir, one must see +The day comes when a woman sheds her sin +As a bird moults; and she being shifted so, +The old mate of her old feather pecks at her +To get the right bird back; then she being stronger +Picks out his eyes-eh? + +2D CITIZEN. +Like enough to be; +But if it be-Is not one preaching there +With certain folk about him? + +1ST CITIZEN. +Yea, the same +Who preached a month since from Ezekiel +Concerning these twain-this our queen that is +And her that was, and is not now so much +As queen over hell's worm. + +3D CITIZEN. +Ay, said he not, +This was Aholah, the first one of these, +Called sisters only for a type-being twain, +Twain Maries, no whit Nazarine? the first +Bred out of Egypt like the water-worm +With sides in wet green places baked with slime +And festered flesh that steams against the sun; +A plague among all people, and a type +Set as a flake upon a leper's fell. + +1ST CITIZEN. +Yea, said he, and unto her the men went in, +The men of Pharaoh's, beautiful with red +And with red gold, fair foreign-footed men, +The bountiful fair men, the courteous men, +The delicate men with delicate feet, that went +Curling their small beards Agag-fashion, yea +Pruning their mouths to nibble words behind +With pecking at God's skirts-small broken oaths +Fretted to shreds between most dainty lips, +And underbreath some praise of Ashtaroth +Sighed laughingly. + +2D CITIZEN. +Was he not under guard +For the good word? + +1ST CITIZEN. +Yea, but now forth again.- +And of the latter said he-there being two, +The first Aholah, which interpreted- + +3D CITIZEN. +But, of this latter? + +1ST CITIZEN. +Well, of her he said +How she made letters for Chaldean folk +And men that came forth of the wilderness +And all her sister's chosen men; yea, she +Kept not her lip from any sin of hers +But multiplied in whoredoms toward all these +That hate God mightily; for these, he saith, +These are the fair French people, and these her kin +Sought out of England with her love-letters +To bring them to her kiss of love; and thus +With a prayer made that God would break such love +Ended some while; then crying out for strong wrath +Spake with a great voice after: This is she, +Yea the lewd woman, yea the same woman +That gat bruised breasts in Egypt, when strange men +Swart from great suns, foot-burnt with angry soils +And strewn with sand of gaunt Chaldean miles, +Poured all their love upon her: she shall drink +The Lord's cup of derision that is filled +With drunkenness and sorrow, great of sides +And deep to drink in till the dreg drips out: +Yea, and herself with the twain shards thereof +Pluck off her breasts; so said he. + +4TH CITIZEN. +See that stir- +Are not they come? + +3D CITIZEN. +There wants an hour of them. +Draw near and let us hearken; he will speak +Surely some word of this. + +2D CITIZEN. +What saith he now? + +THE PREACHER. +The mercy of a harlot is a sword; +And her mouth sharper than a flame of fire. + + +SCENE II.-In Prison. + + +CHASTELARD. +So here my time shuts up; and the last light +Has made the last shade in the world for me. +The sunbeam that was narrow like a leaf +Has turned a hand, and the hand stretched to an arm, +And the arm has reached the dust on the floor, and made +A maze of motes with paddling fingers. Well, +I knew now that a man so sure to die +Could care so little; a bride-night's lustiness +Leaps in my veins as light fire under a wind: +As if I felt a kindling beyond death +Of some new joys far outside of me yet; +Sweet sound, sweet smell and touch of things far out +Sure to come soon. I wonder will death be +Even all it seems now? or the talk of hell +And wretched changes of the worn-out soul +Nailed to decaying flesh, shall that be true? +Or is this like the forethought of deep sleep +Felt by a tired man? Sleep were good enough- +Shall sleep be all? But I shall not forget +For any sleep this love bound upon me- +For any sleep or quiet ways of death. +Ah, in my weary dusty space of sight +Her face will float with heavy scents of hair +And fire of subtle amorous eyes, and lips +More hot than wine, full of sweet wicked words +Babbled against mine own lips, and long hands +Spread out, and pale bright throat and pale bright breasts, +Fit to make all men mad. I do believe +This fire shall never quite burn out to the ash +And leave no heat and flame upon my dust +For witness where a man's heart was burnt up. +For all Christ's work this Venus is not quelled, +But reddens at the mouth with blood of men, +Sucking between small teeth the sap o' the veins, +Dabbling with death her little tender lips- +A bitter beauty, poisonous-pearled mouth. +I am not fit to live but for love's sake, +So I were best die shortly. Ah, fair love, +Fair fearful Venus made of deadly foam, +I shall escape you somehow with my death- +Your splendid supple body and mouth on fire +And Paphian breath that bites the lips with heat. +I had best die. + +[Enter MARY BEATON.] + +What, is my death's time come, +And you the friend to make death kind to me? +'T is sweetly done; for I was sick for this. + +MARY BEATON. +Nay, but see here; nay, for you shall not die: +She has reprieved you; look, her name to that, +A present respite; I was sure of her: +You are quite safe: here, take it in your hands: +I am faint with the end of pain. Read there. + +CHASTELARD. +Reprieve? +Wherefore reprieve? Who has done this to me? + +MARY BEATON. +I never feared but God would have you live, +Or I knew well God must have punished me; +But I feared nothing, had no sort of fear. +What makes you stare upon the seal so hard? +Will you not read now? + +CHASTELARD. +A reprieve of life- +Reprieving me from living. Nay, by God, +I count one death a bitter thing enough. + +MARY BEATON. +See what she writes; you love; for love of you; +Out of her love; a word to save your life: +But I knew this too though you love me not: +She is your love; I knew that: yea, by heaven. + +CHASTELARD. +You knew I had to live and be reprieved: +Say I were bent to die now? + +MARY BEATON. +Do not die, +For her sweet love's sake; not for pity of me, +You would not bear with life for me one hour; +But for hers only. + +CHASTELARD. +Nay, I love you well, +I would not hurt you for more lives than one. +But for this fair-faced paper of reprieve, +We'll have no riddling to make death shift sides: +Look, here ends one of us. + +[Tearing it.] + +For her I love, +She will not anger heaven with slaying me; +For me, I am well quit of loving her; +For you, I pray you be well comforted, +Seeing in my life no man gat good by me +And by my death no hurt is any man's. + +MARY BEATON. +And I that loved you? nay, I loved you; nay, +Why should your like be pitied when they love? +Her hard heart is not yet so hard as yours, +Nor God's hard heart. I care not if you die. +These bitter madmen are not fit to live. +I will not have you touch me, speak to me, +Nor take farewell of you. See you die well, +Or death will play with shame for you, and win, +And laugh you out of life. I am right glad +I never am to see you any more, +For I should come to hate you easily; +I would not have you live. + +[Exit.] + +CHASTELARD. +She has cause enow. +I would this wretched waiting had an end, +For I wax feebler than I was: God knows +I had a mind once to have saved this flesh +And made life one with shame. It marvels me +This girl that loves me should desire so much +To have me sleep with shame for bedfellow +A whole life's space; she would be glad to die +To escape such life. It may be too her love +Is but an amorous quarrel with herself, +Not love of me but her own wilful soul; +Then she will live and be more glad of this +Than girls of their own will and their heart's love +Before love mars them: so God go with her! +For mine own love-I wonder will she come +Sad at her mouth a little, with drawn cheeks +And eyelids wrinkled up? or hot and quick +To lean her head on mine and leave her lips +Deep in my neck? For surely she must come; +And I should fare the better to be sure +What she will do. But as it please my sweet; +For some sweet thing she must do if she come, +Seeing how I have to die. Now three years since +This had not seemed so good an end for me; +But in some wise all things wear round betimes +And wind up well. Yet doubtless she might take +A will to come my way and hold my hands +And kiss me some three kisses, throat, mouth, eyes, +And say some soft three words to soften death: +I do not see how this should break her ease. +Nay, she will come to get her warrant back: +By this no doubt she is sorely penitent, +Her fit of angry mercy well blown out +And her wits cool again. She must have chafed +A great while through for anger to become +So like pure pity; they must have fretted her +Night mad for anger: or it may be mistrust, +She is so false; yea, to my death I think +She will not trust me; alas the hard sweet heart! +As if my lips could hurt her any way +But by too keenly kissing of her own. +Ah false poor sweet fair lips that keep no faith, +They shall not catch mine false or dangerous; +They must needs kiss me one good time, albeit +They love me not at all. Lo, here she comes, +For the blood leaps and catches at my face; +There go her feet and tread upon my heart; +Now shall I see what way I am to die. + +[Enter the QUEEN.] + +QUEEN. +What, is one here? Speak to me for God's sake: +Where are you lain? + +CHASTELARD. +Here, madam, at your hand. + +QUEEN. +Sweet lord, what sore pain have I had for you +And been most patient!--Nay, you are not bound. +If you be gentle to me, take my hand. +Do you not hold me the worst heart in the world? +Nay, you must needs; but say not yet you do. +I am worn so weak I know not how I live: +Reach me your hand. + +CHASTELARD. +Take comfort and good heart; +All will find end; this is some grief to you, +But you shall overlive it. Come, fair love; +Be of fair cheer: I say you have done no wrong. + +QUEEN. +I will not be of cheer: I have done a thing +That will turn fire and burn me. Tell me not; +If you will do me comfort, whet your sword. +But if you hate me, tell me of soft things, +For I hate these, and bitterly. Look up; +Am I not mortal to be gazed upon? + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, mortal, and not hateful. + +QUEEN. +O lost heart! +Give me some mean to die by. + +CHASTELARD. +Sweet, enough. +You have made no fault; life is not worth a world +That you should weep to take it: would mine were, +And I might give you a world-worthier gift +Than one poor head that love has made a spoil; +Take it for jest, and weep not: let me go, +And think I died of chance or malady. +Nay, I die well; one dies not best abed. + +QUEEN, +My warrant to reprieve you--that you saw? +That came between your hands? + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, not long since. +It seems you have no will to let me die. + +QUEEN. +Alas, you know I wrote it with my heart, +Out of pure love; and since you were in bonds +I have had such grief for love's sake and my heart's-- +Yea, by my life I have--I could not choose +But give love way a little. Take my hand; +You know it would have pricked my heart's blood out +To write reprieve with. + +CHASTELARD. +Sweet, your hands are kind; +Lay them about my neck, upon my face, +And tell me not of writing. + +QUEEN. +Nay, by heaven, +I would have given you mine own blood to drink +If that could heal you of your soul-sickness. +Yea, they know that, they curse me for your sake, +Rail at my love--would God their heads were lopped +And we twain left together this side death! +But look you, sweet, if this my warrant hold +You are but dead and shamed; for you must die, +And they will slay you shamefully by force +Even in my sight. + +CHASTELARD. +Faith, I think so they will. + +QUEEN. +Nay, they would slay me too, cast stones at me, +Drag me alive--they have eaten poisonous words, +They are mad and have no shame. + +CHASTELARD. +Ay, like enough. + +QUEEN. +Would God my heart were greater; but God wot +I have no heart to bear with fear and die. +Yea, and I cannot help you: or I know +I should be nobler, bear a better heart: +But as this stands--I pray you for good love, +As you hold honor a costlier thing than life-- + +CHASTELARD. +Well? + +QUEEN. +Nay, I would not be denied for shame; +In brief, I pray you give me that again. + +CHASTELARD. +What, my reprieve? + +QUEEN. +Even so; deny me not, +For your sake mainly: yea, by God you know +How fain I were to die in your death's stead. +For your name's sake. This were no need to swear. +Lest we be mocked to death with a reprieve, +And so both die, being shamed. What, shall I swear? +What, if I kiss you? must I pluck it out? +You do not love me: no, nor honor. Come +I know you have it about you: give it me. + +CHASTELARD. +I cannot yield you such a thing again; +Not as I had it. + +QUEEN. +A coward? what shift now? +Do such men make such cravens? + +CHASTELARD. +Chide me not: +Pity me that I cannot help my heart. + +QUEEN. +Heaven mend mine eyes that took you for a man! +What, is it sewn into your flesh? take heed-- +Nay, but for shame--what have you done with it? + +CHASTELARD. +Why, there it lies, torn up. + +QUEEN. +God help me, sir! +Have you done this? + +CHASTELARD. +Yea, sweet; what should I do? +Did I not know you to the bone, my sweet? +God speed you well! you have a goodly lord. + +QUEEN. +My love, sweet love, you are more fair than he, +Yea, fairer many times: I love you much, +Sir, know you that. + +CHASTELARD. +I think I know that well. +Sit here a little till I feel you through +In all my breath and blood for some sweet while. +O gracious body that mine arms have had, +And hair my face has felt on it! grave eyes +And low thick lids that keep since years agone +In the blue sweet of each particular vein +Some special print of me! I am right glad +That I must never feel a bitterer thing +Than your soft curled-up shoulder and amorous arms +From this time forth; nothing can hap to me +Less good than this for all my whole life through. +I would not have some new pain after this +Come spoil the savor. O, your round bird's throat, +More soft than sleep or singing; your calm cheeks, +Turned bright, turned wan with kisses hard and hot; +The beautiful color of your deep curved hands, +Made of a red rose that had changed to white; +That mouth mine own holds half the sweetness of, +Yea, my heart holds the sweetness of it, whence +My life began in me; mine that ends here +Because you have no mercy, nay you know +You never could have mercy. My fair love, +Kiss me again, God loves you not the less; +Why should one woman have all goodly things? +You have all beauty; let mean women's lips +Be pitiful, and speak truth: they will not be +Such perfect things as yours. Be not ashamed +That hands not made like these that snare men's souls +Should do men good, give alms, relieve men's pain; +You have the better, being more fair than they, +They are half foul, being rather good than fair; +You are quite fair: to be quite fair is best. +Why, two nights hence I dreamed that I could see +In through your bosom under the left flower, +And there was a round hollow, and at heart +A little red snake sitting, without spot, +That bit--like this, and sucked up sweet--like this, +And curled its lithe light body right and left, +And quivered like a woman in act to love. +Then there was some low fluttered talk i' the lips, +Faint sound of soft fierce words caressing them-- +Like a fair woman's when her love gets way. +Ah, your old kiss--I know the ways of it: +Let the lips cling a little. Take them off, +And speak some word or I go mad with love. + +QUEEN. +Will you not have my chaplain come to you? + +CHASTELARD. +Some better thing of yours--some handkerchief, +Some fringe of scarf to make confession to-- +You had some book about you that fell out-- + +QUEEN. +A little written book of Ronsard's rhymes, +His gift, I wear in there for love of him-- +See, here between our feet. + +CHASTELARD. +Ay, my old lord's-- +The sweet chief poet, my dear friend long since? +Give me the book. Lo you, this verse of his: +With coming lilies in late April came +Her body, fashioned whiter for their shame; +And roses, touched with blood since Adon bled, +From her fair color filled their lips with red: +A goodly praise: I could not praise you so. +I read that while your marriage-feast went on. +Leave me this book, I pray you: I would read +The hymn of death here over ere I die; +I shall know soon how much he knew of death +When that was written. One thing I know now, +I shall not die with half a heart at least, +Nor shift my face, nor weep my fault alive, +Nor swear if I might live and do new deeds +I would do better. Let me keep the book. + +QUEEN. +Yea, keep it: as would God you had kept your life +Out of mine eyes and hands. I am wrong to the heart: +This hour feels dry and bitter in my mouth, +As if its sorrow were my body's food +More than my soul's. There are bad thoughts in me-- +Most bitter fancies biting me like birds +That tear each other. Suppose you need not die? + +CHASTELARD. +You know I cannot live for two hours more. +Our fate was made thus ere our days were made: +Will you fight fortune for so small a grief? +But for one thing I were full fain of death. + +QUEEN. +What thing is that? + +CHASTELARD. +No need to name the thing. +Why, what can death do with me fit to fear? +For if I sleep I shall not weep awake; +Or if their saying be true of things to come, +Though hell be sharp, in the worst ache of it +I shall be eased so God will give me back +Sometimes one golden gracious sight of you-- +The aureole woven flowerlike through your hair, +And in your lips the little laugh as red +As when it came upon a kiss and ceased, +Touching my mouth. + +QUEEN. +As I do now, this way, +With my heart after: would I could shed tears, +Tears should not fail when the heart shudders so. +But your bad thought? + +CHASTELARD. +Well, such a thought as this: +It may be, long time after I am dead, +For all you are, you may see bitter days; +God may forget you or be wroth with you: +Then shall you lack a little help of me, +And I shall feel your sorrow touching you, +A happy sorrow, though I may not touch: +I that would fain be turned to flesh again, +Fain get back life to give up life for you, +To shed my blood for help, that long ago +You shed and were not holpen: and your heart +Will ache for help and comfort, yea for love, +And find less love than mine--for I do think +You never will be loved thus in your life. + +QUEEN. +It may be man will never love me more; +For I am sure I shall not love man twice. + +CHASTELARD. +I know not: men must love you in life's spite; +For you will always kill them; man by man +Your lips will bite them dead; yea, though you would, +You shall not spare one; all will die of you; +I cannot tell what love shall do with these, +But I for all my love shall have no might +To help you more, mine arms and hands no power +To fasten on you more. This cleaves my heart, +That they shall never touch your body more. +But for your grief--you will not have to grieve; +For being in such poor eyes so beautiful +It must needs be as God is more than I +So much more love he hath of you than mine; +Yea, God shall not be bitter with my love, +Seeing she is so sweet. + +QUEEN. +Ah my sweet fool, +Think you when God will ruin me for sin +My face of color shall prevail so much +With him, so soften the toothed iron's edge +To save my throat a scar? nay, I am sure +I shall die somehow sadly. + +CHASTELARD. +This is pure grief; +The shadow of your pity for my death, +Mere foolishness of pity: all sweet moods +Throw out such little shadows of themselves, +Leave such light fears behind. You, die like me? +Stretch your throat out that I may kiss all round +Where mine shall be cut through: suppose my mouth +The axe-edge to bite so sweet a throat in twain +With bitter iron, should not it turn soft +As lip is soft to lip? + +QUEEN. +I am quite sure +I shall die sadly some day, Chastelard; +I am quite certain. + +CHASTELARD. +Do not think such things; +Lest all my next world's memories of you be +As heavy as this thought. + +QUEEN. +I will not grieve you; +Forgive me that my thoughts were sick with grief. +What can I do to give you ease at heart? +Shall I kiss now? I pray you have no fear +But that I love you. + +CHASTELARD. +Turn your face to me; +I do not grudge your face this death of mine; +It is too fair--by God, you are too fair. +What noise is that? + +QUEEN. +Can the hour be through so soon? +I bade them give me but a little hour. +Ah! I do love you! such brief space for love! +I am yours all through, do all your will with me; +What if we lay and let them take us fast, +Lips grasping lips? I dare do anything. + +CHASTELARD. +Show better cheer: let no man see you mazed; +Make haste and kiss me; cover up your throat +Lest one see tumbled lace and prate of it. + +[Enter the Guard: MURRAY, DARNLEY, MARY +HAMILTON, MARY BEATON, and others with +them.] + +DARNLEY. +Sirs, do your charge; let him not have much time. + +MARY HAMILTON. +Peace, lest you chafe the queen: look, her brows bend. + +CHASTELARD. +Lords, and all you come hither for my sake, +If while my life was with me like a friend +That I must now forget the friendship of, +I have done a wrong to any man of you, +As it may be by fault of mine I have; +Of such an one I crave for courtesy +He will now cast it from his mind and heed +Like a dead thing; considering my dead fault +Worth no remembrance further than my death. +This for his gentle honor and goodwill +I do beseech him, doubting not to find +Such kindliness if he be nobly made +And of his birth a courteous race of man. +You, my Lord James, if you have aught toward me-- +Or you, Lord Darnley--I dare fear no jot, +Whate'er this be wherein you were aggrieved, +But you will pardon all for gentleness. + +DARNLEY. +For my part--yea, well, if the thing stand thus, +As you must die--one would not bear folk hard-- +And if the rest shall hold it honorable, +Why, I do pardon you. + +MURRAY. +Sir, in all things +We find no cause to speak of you but well: +For all I see, save this your deadly fault, +I hold you for a noble perfect man. + +CHASTELARD. +I thank you, fair lord, for your nobleness. +You likewise, for the courtesy you have +I give you thanks, sir; and to all these lords +That have not heart to load me at my death. +Last, I beseech of the best queen of men +And royallest fair lady in the world +To pardon me my grievous mortal sin +Done in such great offence of her: for, sirs, +If ever since I came between her eyes +She hath beheld me other than I am +Or shown her honor other than it is, +Or, save in royal faultless courtesies, +Used me with favor; if by speech or face, +By salutation or by tender eyes, +She hath made a way for my desire to live, +Given ear to me or boldness to my breath; +I pray God cast me forth before day cease +Even to the heaviest place there is in hell. +Yea, if she be not stainless toward all men, +I pray this axe that I shall die upon +May cut me off body and soul from heaven. +Now for my soul's sake I dare pray to you; +Forgive me, madam. + +QUEEN. +Yea, I do, fair sir: +With all my heart in all I pardon you. + +CHASTELARD. +God thank you for great mercies. Lords, set hence; +I am right loth to hold your patience here; +I must not hold much longer any man's. +Bring me my way and bid me fare well forth. + +[As they pass out the QUEEN stays MARY BEATON.] + +QUEEN. +Hark hither, sweet. Get back to Holyrood +And take Carmichael with you: go both up +In some chief window whence the squares lie clear-- +Seem not to know what I shall do--mark that-- +And watch how things fare under. Have good cheer; +You do not think now I can let him die? +Nay, this were shameful madness if you did, +And I should hate you. + +MARY BEATON. +Pray you love me, madam, +And swear you love me and will let me live, +That I may die the quicker. + +QUEEN. +Nay, sweet, see, +Nay, you shall see, this must not seem devised; +I will take any man with me, and go; +Yea, for pure hate of them that hate him: yea, +Lay hold upon the headsman and bid strike +Here on my neck; if they will have him die, +Why, I will die too: queens have died this way +For less things than his love is. Nay, I know +They want no blood; I will bring swords to boot +For dear love's rescue though half earth were slain; +What should men do with blood? Stand fast at watch; +For I will be his ransom if I die. + +[Exeunt.] + + + +SCENE III.--The Upper Chamber in Holyrood. + +MARY BEATON seated; MARY CARMICHAEL at a window. + + +MARY BEATON. +Do you see nothing? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Nay, but swarms of men +And talking women gathered in small space, +Flapping their gowns and gaping with fools' eyes: +And a thin ring round one that seems to speak, +Holding his hands out eagerly; no more. + +MARY BEATON. +Why, I hear more, I hear men shout The Queen. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Nay, no cries yet. + +MARY BEATON. +Ah, they will cry out soon +When she comes forth; they should cry out on her; +I hear their crying in my heart. Nay, sweet, +Do not you hate her? all men, if God please, +Shall hate her one day; yea, one day no doubt +I shall worse hate her. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Pray you, be at peace; +You hurt yourself: she will be merciful; +What, could you see a true man slain for you? +I think I could not; it is not like our hearts +To have such hard sides to them. + +MARY BEATON. +O, not you, +And I could nowise; there's some blood in her +That does not run to mercy as ours doth: +That fair face and the cursed heart in her +Made keener than a knife for manslaying +Can bear strange things. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Peace, for the people come. +Ah--Murray, hooded over half his face +With plucked-down hat, few folk about him, eyes +Like a man angered; Darnley after him, +Holding our Hamilton above her wrist, +His mouth put near her hair to whisper with-- +And she laughs softly, looking at her feet. + +MARY BEATON. +She will not live long; God hath given her +Few days and evil, full of hate and love, +I see well now. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Hark, there's their cry--The Queen! +Fair life and long, and good days to the Queen! + +MARY BEATON. +Yea, but God knows. I feel such patience here +As I were sure in a brief while to die. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +She bends and laughs a little, graciously, +And turns half, talking to I know not whom-- +A big man with great shoulders; ah, the face, +You get his face now--wide and duskish, yea +The youth burnt out of it. A goodly man, +Thewed mightily and sunburnt to the bone; +Doubtless he was away in banishment, +Or kept some march far off. + +MARY BEATON. +Still you see nothing? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Yea, now they bring him forth with a great noise, +The folk all shouting and men thrust about +Each way from him. + +MARY BEATON. +Ah, Lord God, bear with me, +Help me to bear a little with my love +For thine own love, or give me some quick death. +Do not come down; I shall get strength again, +Only my breath fails. Looks he sad or blithe? +Not sad I doubt yet. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Nay, not sad a whit, +But like a man who losing gold or lands +Should lose a heavy sorrow; his face set, +The eyes not curious to the right or left, +And reading in a book, his hands unbound, +With short fleet smiles. The whole place catches breath, +Looking at him; she seems at point to speak: +Now she lies back, and laughs, with her brows drawn +And her lips drawn too. Now they read his crime-- +I see the laughter tightening her chin: +Why do you bend your body and draw breath? +They will not slay him in her sight; I am sure +She will not have him slain. + +MARY BEATON. +Forth, and fear not: +I was just praying to myself--one word, +A prayer I have to say for her to God +If he will mind it. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Now he looks her side; +Something he says, if one could hear thus far: +She leans out, lengthening her throat to hear +And her eyes shining. + +MARY BEATON. +Ah, I had no hope: +Yea thou God knowest that I had no hope. +Let it end quickly. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Now his eyes are wide +And his smile great; and like another smile +The blood fills all his face. Her cheek and neck +Work fast and hard; she must have pardoned him, +He looks so merrily. Now he comes forth +Out of that ring of people and kneels down; +Ah, how the helve and edge of the great axe +Turn in the sunlight as the man shifts hands-- +It must be for a show: because she sits +And hardly moves her head this way--I see +Her chin and lifted lips. Now she stands up, +Puts out her hand, and they fall muttering; +Ah! + +MARY BEATON. +Is it done now? + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +For God's love, stay there; +Do not look out. Nay, he is dead by this; +But gather up yourself from off the floor; +Will she die too? I shut mine eyes and heard-- +Sweet, do not beat your face upon the ground. +Nay, he is dead and slain. + +MARY BEATON. +What, slain indeed? +I knew he would be slain. Ay, through the neck: +I knew one must be smitten through the neck +To die so quick: if one were stabbed to the heart, +He would die slower. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Will you behold him dead? + +MARY BEATON. +Yea: must a dead man not be looked upon +That living one was fain of? give me way. +Lo you, what sort of hair this fellow had; +The doomsman gathers it into his hand +To grasp the head by for all men to see; +I never did that. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +For God's love, let me go. + +MARY BEATON. +I think sometimes she must have held it so, +Holding his head back, see you, by the hair +To kiss his face, still lying in his arms. +Ay, go and weep: it must be pitiful +If one could see it. What is this they say? +So perish the Queen's traitors! Yea, but so +Perish the Queen! God, do thus much to her +For his sake only: yea, for pity's sake +Do thus much with her. + +MARY CARMICHAEL. +Prithee come in with me: +Nay, come at once. + +MARY BEATON. +If I should meet with her +And spit upon her at her coming in-- +But if I live then shall I see one day +When God will smite her lying harlot's mouth-- +Surely I shall. Come, I will go with you; +We will sit down together face to face +Now, and keep silence; for this life is hard, +And the end of it is quietness at last. +Come, let us go: here is no word to say. + +AN USHER. +Make way there for the lord of Bothwell; room-- +Place for my lord of Bothwell next the queen. + + + +EXPLICIT + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg etext of Swinburne's "Chastelard." diff --git a/old/chast10.zip b/old/chast10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5528d47 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/chast10.zip |