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.