ll have no might
To help you more, mine arms and hands no power
To fasten on you more. This cleaves my heart,
That they shall never touch your body more.
But for your grief--you will not have to grieve;
For being in such poor eyes so beautiful
It must needs be as God is more than I
So much more love he hath of you than mine;
Yea, God shall not be bitter with my love,
Seeing she is so sweet.

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 toothed iron's edge
To save my throat a scar? nay, I am sure
I shall die somehow sadly.

CHASTELARD.
This is pure grief;
The shadow of your pity for my death,
Mere foolishness of pity: all sweet moods
Throw out such little shadows of themselves,
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
The axe-edge to bite so sweet a throat in twain
With bitter iron, should not it turn soft
As lip is soft to lip?

QUEEN.
I am quite sure
I shall die sadly some day, Chastelard;
I am quite certain.

CHASTELARD.
Do not think such things;
Lest all my next world's memories of you be
As heavy as this thought.

QUEEN.
I will not grieve you;
Forgive me that my thoughts were sick with grief.
What can I do to give you ease at heart?
Shall I kiss now? I pray you have no fear
But that I love you.

CHASTELARD.
Turn your face to me;
I do not grudge your face this death of mine;
It is too fair--by God, you are too fair.
What noise is that?

QUEEN.
Can the hour be through so soon?
I bade them give me but a little hour.
Ah! I do love you! such brief space for love!
I am yours all through, do all your will with me;
What if we lay and let them take us fast,
Lips grasping lips? I dare do anything.

CHASTELARD.
Show better cheer: let no man see you mazed;
Make haste and kiss me; cover up your throat
Lest one see tumbled lace and prate of it.

[Enter the Guard: MURRAY, DARNLEY, MARY
HAMILTON, MARY BEATON, and others with them.]

DARNLEY.
Sirs, do your charge; let him not have much time.

MARY HAMILTON.
Peace, lest you chafe the queen: look, her brows bend.

CHASTELARD.
Lords, and all you come hither for my sake,
If while my life was with me like a friend
That I must now forget the f