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.