Algernon Charles Swinburne

“ Have you no evil dreams? Nay, look you, love, I will not be flung off you heart and hand, I am no snake: but tell me for your love Have you no fancies how these things will end In the pit's mouth? how all life-deeds will look At the grave's edge that lets men into hell? For my part, who am weak and woman-eyed, It turns my soul tears: I doubt this blood Fallen on our faces when we twain are dead Will scar and burn them: yea, for heaven is sweet, And loves sweet deeds that smell not of split blood. Let us not kill: God that made mercy first Pities the pitiful for their deed's sake. ”

“ Have you been ever quite so glad to fight
As I have thought men must? pray you, speak truth.
CHASTELARD.
Yea, when the time came, there caught hold of me
Such pleasure in the head and hands and blood
As may be kindled under loving lips:
Crossing the ferry once to the Clerks' Field,
I mind how the plashing noise of Seine
Put fire into my face for joy, and how
My blood kept measure with the swinging boat
Till we touched land, all for the sake of that
Which should be soon.
QUEEN.
Her name, for God's love, sir;
You slew your friend for love's sake? nay, the name. ”

“ All men will cry upon you, women weep,
Turning your sweet name bitter with their tears;
Red shame grow up out of your memory
And burn his face that would speak well of you:
You shall have no good word nor pity, none,
Till some such end be fallen upon you: nay,
I am but cold, I knew I had no words,
I will keep silence.
QUEEN.
Yea now, as I live,
I wist not of it: troth, he shall not die.
See you, I am pitiful, compassionate,
I would not have men slain for my love's sake,
But if he live to do me three times wrong,
Why then my shame would grow up green and red
Like any flower. ”

“ But if you hate me, tell me of soft things, For I hate these, and bitterly. Look up; Am I not mortal to be gazed upon?
CHASTELARD. Yea, mortal, and not hateful.
QUEEN. O lost heart! Give me some mean to die by.
CHASTELARD. Sweet, enough. You have made no fault; life is not worth a world That you should weep to take it: would mine were, And I might give you a world-worthier gift Than one poor head that love has made a spoil; Take it for jest, and weep not: let me go, And think I died of chance or malady. Nay, I die well; one dies not best abed.
QUEEN, My warrant to reprieve you--that you saw? ”

“ My lord, I am soft-spirited as women are, And ye wot well I have no harder heart: Yea, with all my will I would not slay a thing, But all should live right sweetly if I might; So that man's blood-spilling lies hard on me. I have a work yet for mine honor's sake, A thing to do, God wot I know not how, Nor how to crave it of you: nay, by heaven, I will not shame myself to show it you: I have not heart.
MURRAY. Why, if it may be done With any honor, or with good men's excuse, I shall well do it.
QUEEN. I would I wist that well. Sir, do you love me? ”

“ I have some strength yet, Though I lack power on men that lack men's blood. Yea, and God wot I will be merciful; For all the foolish hardness round my heart That tender women miss of to their praise, They shall not say but I had grace to give Even for love's sake. Why, let them take their way: What ails it them though I be soft or hard? Soft hearts would weep and weep and let men die For very mercy and sweet-heartedness; I that weep little for my pity's sake, I have the grace to save men. Let fame go- I care not much what shall become of fame, So I save love and do mine own soul right ”

“ Upon man's heart. A kingly knight-in faith,
Meseems my face can yet make faith in men
And break their brains with beauty: for a word,
An eyelid's twitch, an eye's turn, tie them fast
And make their souls cleave to me. God be thanked,
This air has not yet curdled all the blood
That went to make me fair. An hour agone,
I thought I had been forgotten of men's love
More than dead women's faces are forgot
Of after lovers. All men are not of earth:
For all the frost of fools and this cold land
There be some yet catch fever of my face
And burning for mine eyes' sake. ”

“ For you, I pray you be well comforted, Seeing in my life no man gat good by me And by my death no hurt is any man's.
MARY BEATON. And I that loved you? nay, I loved you; nay, Why should your like be pitied when they love? Her hard heart is not yet so hard as yours, Nor God's hard heart. I care not if you die. These bitter madmen are not fit to live. I will not have you touch me, speak to me, Nor take farewell of you. See you die well, Or death will play with shame for you, and win, And laugh you out of life. ”

“ DARNLEY. I say that looking with this face of yours None shall believe you holy; what, you talk, Take mercy in your mouth, eat holiness, Put God under your tongue and feed on heaven, With fear and faith and-faith, I know not what- And look as though you stood and saw men slain To make you game and laughter; nay, your eyes Threaten as unto blood. What will you do To make men take your sweet word? pitiful- You are pitiful as he that's hired for death And loves the slaying yet better than the hire.
QUEEN. You are wise that live to threat and tell me so; Do you love life too much? ”

“ Think, for God's sake- Is there no loving way to fetch him forth? Nay, what a white thin-blooded thing is love, To help no more than this doth! Were I in love, I would unbar the ways to-night and then Laugh death to death to-morrow, mock him dead; I think you love well with one half your heart, And let fear keep the other. Hark you now, You said there was some friend durst break my bars- Some Scotch name-faith, as if I wist of it! Ye have such heavy wits to help one with- Some man that had some mean to save him by- Tush, I must be at pains for you! ”

“ I am a queen too that would have him live,
But one that has no wrong and is no queen,
She would-What are you saying there, you twain?
MARY CARMICHAEL.
I said a queen's face and so fair an one's
Would lose no grace for giving grace away;
That gift comes back upon the mouth it left
And makes it sweeter, and set fresh red on it.
QUEEN.
This comes of sonnets when the dance draws breath;
These talking times will make a dearth of grace.
But you-what ails you that your lips are shut?
Weep, if you will; here are four friends of yours
To weep as fast for pity of your tears. ”

“ QUEEN. See--O, this Chastelard? He doth not well to sing maids into shame; And folk are sharp here; yet for sweet friends' sake Assuredly I 'll see him. I am not wroth. A goodly man, and a good sword thereto-- It may be he shall wed her. I am not wroth.
MARY SEYTON. Nay, though she bore with him, she hath no great love, I doubt me, that way.
QUEEN. God mend all, I pray-- And keep us from all wrongdoing and wild words. I think there is no fault men fall upon But I could pardon. Look you, I would swear She were no paramour for any man, So well I love her. ”

“ Look you, I have to die soon, and I swear, That am no liar but a free knight and lord, I shall die clear of any sin to you, Save that I came for no good will of mine; I am no carle, I play fair games with faith, And by mine honor for my sake I swear I say but truth; for no man's sake save mine, Lest I die shamed. Madam, I pray you say I am no liar; you know me what I am, A sinful man and shortly to be slain, That in a simple insolence of love Have stained with a fool's eyes your holy hours And with a fool's words put your pity out ”

“ QUEEN.
God help such lips! and get me leave to laugh!
What should I do but paint and put him up
Like a gilt god, a saintship in a shrine,
For all fools' feast? God's mercy on men's wits!
Tall as a housetop and as bare of brain—
I'll have no staffs with fool-faced carven heads
To hang my life on. Nay, for love, no more,
For fear I laugh and set their eyes on edge
To find out why I laugh. Good-night, fair lords;
Bid them cease playing. Give me your hand; good-night. ”

“ I have given gold for brass, and lo the pay Cleaves to my fingers: there's no way to mend- Not while life stays: would God that it were gone! The fool will feed upon my fame and laugh; Till one seal up his tongue and lips with blood, He carries half my honor and good name Between his teeth. Lord God, mine head will fail! When have I done thus since I was alive? And these ill times will deal but ill with me- My old love slain, and never a new to help, And my wits gone, and my blithe use of life, And all the grace was with me. Love-perchance If I save love I shall well save myself. ”

“ CHASTELARD. Most sweet queen, They say men dying remember, with sharp joy And rapid reluctation of desire, Some old thin, some swift breath of wind, some word, Some sword-stroke or dead lute-strain, some lost sight, Some sea-blossom stripped to the sun and burned At naked ebb--some river-flower that breathes Against the stream like a swooned swimmer's mouth-- Some tear or laugh ere lip and eye were man's-- Sweet stings that struck the blood in riding--nay, Some garment or sky-color or spice-smell, And die with heart and face shut fast on it, And know not why, and weep not ”

“ Men shall hold love fast always in such wise
In new fair lives where all are new things else,
And know not why, and weep not.
QUEEN.
A right rhyme,
And right a thyme's worth: nay, a sweet song, though.
What, shall my cousin hold fast that love of his,
Her face and talk, when life ends? as God grant
His life end late and sweet; I love him well.
She is fair enough, his lover; a fair-faced maid,
With gray sweet eyes and tender touch of talk;
And that, God wot, I wist not. See you, sir,
Men say I needs must get wed hastily;
Do none point lips at him? ”

“ QUEEN.
O, you will never let him speak to them
To put me in such shame? why, I should die
Out of pure shame and mine own burning blood;
Yea, my face feels the shame lay hold on it,
I am half burnt already in my thought;
Take pity of me. Think how shame slays a man;
How shall I live then? would you have me dead?
I pray you for our dead dear father's sake,
Let not men mock at me. Nay, if he speak,
I shall be sung in mine own towns. Have pity.
What, will you let men stone me in the ways? ”

“ MARY BEATON. Pray you love me, madam, And swear you love me and will let me live, That I may die the quicker.
QUEEN. Nay, sweet, see, Nay, you shall see, this must not seem devised; I will take any man with me, and go; Yea, for pure hate of them that hate him: yea, Lay hold upon the headsman and bid strike Here on my neck; if they will have him die, Why, I will die too: queens have died this way For less things than his love is. Nay, I know They want no blood; I will bring swords to boot For dear love's rescue though half earth were slain; What should men do with blood? Stand fast at watch ”

“ 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? ”

“ You have no blame: and for my death, sweet friend, I never could have lived long either way. Why, as I live, the joy I have of this Would make men mad that were not mad with love; I hear my blood sing, and my lifted heart Is like a springing water blown of wind For pleasure of this deed. Now, in God's name, I swear if there be danger in delight I must die now: if joys have deadly teeth, I'll have them bite my soul to death, and end In the old asp's way, Egyptian-wise; be killed In a royal purple fashion. Look, my love Would kill me if my body were past hurt Of any man's hand ”

“ 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 ”

“ I that would fain be turned to flesh again, Fain get back life to give up life for you, To shed my blood for help, that long ago You shed and were not holpen: and your heart Will ache for help and comfort, yea for love, And find less love than mine--for I do think You never will be loved thus in your life.
QUEEN. It may be man will never love me more; For I am sure I shall not love man twice.
CHASTELARD. I know not: men must love you in life's spite; For you will always kill them; man by man Your lips will bite them dead; yea, though you would, You shall not spare one; all will die of you ”

“ Why, what can death do with me fit to fear?
For if I sleep I shall not weep awake;
Or if their saying be true of things to come,
Though hell be sharp, in the worst ache of it
I shall be eased so God will give me back
Sometimes one golden gracious sight of you—
The aureole woven flowerlike through your hair,
And in your lips the little laugh as red
As when it came upon a kiss and ceased,
Touching my mouth.
QUEEN.
As I do now, this way,
With my heart after: would I could shed tears,
Tears should not fail when the heart shudders so. ”

“ Will wash the fool called scandal off men's lips.
MARY HAMILTON.
I know not that; I know how folk would gibe
If one of us pushed courtesy so far.
She has always loved love's fashions well; you wot,
The marshal, head friend of this Chastelard's,
She used to talk with ere he brought her here
And sow their talk with little kisses thick
As roses in rose-harvest. For myself,
I cannot see which side of her that lurks,
Which snares in such wise all the sense of men;
What special beauty, subtle as man's eye
And tender as the inside of the eyelid is,
There grows about her. ”

“ She is so false; yea, to my death I think
She will not trust me; alas the hard sweet heart!
As if my lips could hurt her any way
But by too keenly kissing of her own.
Ah false poor sweet fair lips that keep no faith,
They shall not catch mine false or dangerous;
They must needs kiss me one good time, albeit
They love me not at all. Lo, here she comes,
For the blood leaps and catches at my face;
There go her feet and tread upon my heart;
Now shall I see what way I am to die.
[Enter the QUEEN.]
QUEEN.
What, is one here? Speak to me for God's sake:
Where are you lain? ”

“ God knows I had a mind once to have saved this flesh And made life one with shame. It marvels me This girl that loves me should desire so much To have me sleep with shame for bedfellow A whole life's space; she would be glad to die To escape such life. It may be too her love Is but an amorous quarrel with herself, Not love of me but her own wilful soul; Then she will live and be more glad of this Than girls of their own will and their heart's love Before love mars them: so God go with her! ”

“ QUEEN.
Yea, best such folk were slain;
Why should they live to cozen fools with lies?
You would swear now you have used me faithfully;
Shall I not make you swear? I am ware of you:
You will not do it; nay, for the fear of God
You will not swear. Come, I am merciful;
God made a foolish woman, making me,
And I have loved your mistress with whole heart;
Say you do love her, you shall marry her
And she give thanks: yet I could wish your love
Had not so lightly chosen forth a face;
For your fair sake, because I hate you not. ”