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.