But there have been those things between us, sir, That men call sweet.
CHASTELARD.
I know not how There is Turns to There hath been; 't is a heavier change Than change of flesh to dust. Yet though years change And good things end and evil things grow great, The old love that was, or that was dreamed about, That sang and kissed and wept upon itself, Laughed and ran mad with love of its own face, That was a sweet thing.
QUEEN.
Nay, I know not well.
'T is when the man is held fast underground They say for sooth what manner of heart he had.
We are alive, and cannot be well sure If we loved much or little: think you not It were convenient one of us should die?
CHASTELARD.
Madam, your speech is harsh to understand.
QUEEN.
Why, there could come no change then; one of us Would never need to fear our love might turn To the sad thing that it may grow to be.
I would sometimes all things were dead asleep That I have loved, all buried in soft beds And sealed with dreams and visions, and each dawn Sung to by sorrows, and all night assuaged By short sweet kissed and by sweet long loves For old life's sake, lest weeping overmuch Should wake them in a strange new time, and arm Memory's blind hand to kill forgetfulness.
CHASTELARD.
Look, you dream still, and sadly.
QUEEN.
Sooth, a dream;
For such things died or lied in sweet love's face, And I forget them not, God help my wit!
I would the whole world were made up of sleep And life not fashioned out of lies and loves.
We foolish women have such times, you know, When we are weary or afraid or sick For perfect nothing.
CHASTELARD.
[Aside.]
Now would one be fain To know what bitter or what dangerous thing She thinks of, softly chafing her soft lip.
She must mean evil.
QUEEN.
Are you sad too, sir, That you say nothing?
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!
