Most bitter fancies biting me like birds That tear each other. Suppose you need not die? Chast. You know I cannot live for two hours more. Our fate was made thus ere our days were made: Will you fight fortune for so small a grief? But for one thing I were full fain of death. Queen. What thing is that? Chast. None need to name the thing. Why, what can death do with me fit to fear? For if I sleep I shall not weep awake; And I shall feel your sorrow touching you, Will ache for help and comfort, yea, for love, And find less love than mine for I do think You never will be lov'd thus in your life. Queen. It may be man will never love me more; Queen. Ah, my sweet fool, Think you when God will ruin me for sin My face of color shall prevail so much With him, so soften the tooth'd iron's edge To save my throat a scar? Nay, I am shall die somehow sadly. This is pure grief; Chast. The shadow of your pity for my death, Mere foolishness of pity: all sweet moods Throw out such little shadows of them selves, Leave such light fears behind. You, die like me? Stretch your throat out that I may kiss all round Where mine shall be cut through: suppose my mouth There were that bade refuse her not her will, Deny not her, fair woman and great queen, Her natural freedom born, to give God praise What way she would, and pray what prayers; though these Be as they were, to God abominable And venomous to men's souls. So came there back The cursed thing cast forth of us, and so Out of her fair face and imperious eyes Lighten'd the light whereby men walk in hell. And I that sole stood out and bade not let The lightning of this curse come down on No hateful thing nor fearful if she stand Such a queen proven as should prove honorable The rule of women, and in her that thing Be shown forth good that was call'd evil of me, Blest and not curst- - then have I sinn'd, and they That would have cross'd me would have cross'd not God: Whereof now judge ye. Hath she brought with her Peace, or a sword? and since her incoming Hath the land sat in quiet, and the men Seen rest but for one year? or came not in Behind her feet, right at her back, and shone Above her crown'd head as a fierier crown, No fire, no cry burst forth of war, no sound For sign she had found grace in his sight, and we For her sake favor, while she hath reign'd To bring it in your mind if God ere now Have borne me witness; in that dreary day When men's hearts fail'd them for pure grief and fear To see the tyranny that was, and rule Of this queen's mother, where was no light left But of the fires wherein his servants died, I bade those lords that clave in heart to God And were perplex'd with trembling and with tears Lift up their hearts, and fear not; and they heard What some now hear no more, the word I spake Who have been with them, as their own souls know, In their most extreme danger; Cowper Moor, Saint Johnston, and the Crags of Edinburgh, Are recent in my heart; yea, let these know, That dark and dolorous night wherein all they With shame and fear were driven forth of That for this woman's sake shall God cut off The hand that spares her as the hand that shields, And make their memory who take part with her As theirs who stood for Baal against the Lord With Ahab's daughter; for her reign and end Shall be like Athaliah's, as her birth The same land's face that now her seed makes foul With whoredoms and with witchcrafts; yet they say Peace, where is no peace, while the adul terous blood Feeds yet with life and sin the murderous heart Love's priestess, mad with pain and joy of song, Song's priestess, mad with joy and pain of love, Name above all names that are lights above, We have lov'd, prais'd, pitied, crown'd, and done thee wrong, O thou past praise and pity; thou the sole For over all whom time hath overpast That gives not back what life gives death to keep; Yea, all that liv'd and lov'd and sang and sinn'd Are all borne down death's cold, sweet, soundless wind That blows all night and knows not whom its breath, Darkling, may touch to death: But one that wind hath touch'd and changed That hath brought forth a wonder to the world All praise, all pity, all dreams have done thee wrong, love, with eyes love-blinded from above; Song's priestess, mad with joy and pain of love, Love's priestess, mad with pain and joy of song. Hast thou none other answer then for me Thy secret, sleepless, burning life on earth, Or even the sea that once, being woman crown'd And girt with fire and glory of anguish round, Thou wert so fain to seek to, fain to crave |