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.