I know not: it may be If I had set mine eyes to find that out, I should not know it. She hath fair eyes: may be I love her for sweet eyes or brows or hair, For the smooth temples, where God touching her Made blue with sweeter veins the flower-sweet white Or for the tender turning of her wrist, Or marriage of the eyelid with the cheek;I cannot tell; or flush of lifting throat, I know not if the color get a name This side of heaven-no man knows; or her mouth, A flower's lip with a snake's lip, stinging sweet, And sweet to sting with: face that one would see And then fall blind and die with sight of it Held fast between the eyelids-oh, all these And all her body and the soul to that, The speech and shape and hand and foot and heart That I would die of-yea, her name that turns My face to fire being written-I know no whit How much I love them.
MARY BEATON.
Nor how she loves you back?
CHASTELARD.
I know her ways of loving, all of them:
A sweet soft way the first is; afterward It burns and bites like fire; the end of that, Charred dust, and eyelids bitten through with smoke.
MARY BEATON.
What has she done for you to gird at her?
CHASTELARD.
Nothing. You do not greatly love her, you, Who do not-gird, you call it. I am bound to France;Shall I take word from you to any one?
So it be harmless, not a gird, I will.
MARY BEATON.
I doubt you will not go hence with your life.
CHASTELARD.
Why, who should slay me? No man northwards born, In my poor mind; my sword's lip is no maid's To fear the iron biting of their own, Though they kiss hard for hate's sake.
MARY BEATON.
Lo you, sir, How sharp he whispers, what close breath and eyes-And here are fast upon him, do you see?
CHASTELARD.
Well, which of these must take my life in hand?
Pray God it be the better: nay, which hand?
MARY BEATON.
I think, none such. The man is goodly made;
She is tender-hearted toward his courtesies, And would not have them fall too low to find.
Look, they slip forth.
[Exeunt DARNLEY and MARY HAMILTON.]
MARY SEYTON.
For love's sake, after them, And soft as love can.
[Exeunt MARY CARMICHAEL and MARY SEYTON.]
CHASTELARD.
True, a goodly man.
What shapeliness and state he hath, what eyes, Brave brow and lordly lip! Were it not fit Great queens should love him?
MARY BEATON.
See how now, fair lord, I have but scant breath's time to help myself, And I must cast my heart out on a chance;So bear with me. That we twain have loved well, I have no heart nor wit to say; God wot We had never made good lovers, you and I.
Look you, I would not have you love me, sir, For all the love's sake in the world. I say, You love the queen, and loving burns you up, And mars the grace and joyous wit you had, Turning your speech to sad, your face to strange, Your mirth to nothing: and I am piteous, I, Even as the queen is, and such women are;And if I helped you to your love-longing, Meseems some grain of love might fall my way And love's god help me when I came to love;I have read tales of men that won their loves On some such wise.
CHASTELARD.
If you mean mercifully, I am bound to you past thought and thank; if worse I will but thank your lips and not your heart.
MARY BEATON.
Nay, let love wait and praise me, in God's name, Some day when he shall find me; yet, God wot, My lips are of one color with my heart.
Withdraw now from me, and about midnight In some close chamber without light or noise It may be I shall get you speech of her:
She loves you well: it may be she will speak, I wot not what; she loves you at her heart.
Let her not see that I have given you word, Lest she take shame and hate her love. Till night Let her not see it.
CHASTLELARD.
I will not thank you now, And then I'll die what sort of death you will.
Farewell.
[Exit.]
MARY BEATON.
And by God's mercy and my love's I will find ways to earn such thank of you.
[Exit.]
