idens 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 life, it is;
Sweet, as you tender m