Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne (Illustrated) (Delphi Poets Series)
Page 194
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, a
re 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 li
fe, 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?