QUEEN. God knows I do; I could be sick with wrath To think what grievous fear I have 'twixt whiles Of mine own self and of base men: last night If certain lords were glancing where I was Under the eyelid, with sharp lip and brow, I tell you, for pure shame and fear of them, I could have gone and slain them. CHASTELARD. Verily, You are changed since those good days that fell in France; But yet I think you are not so changed at heart As to fear man. QUEEN. I would I had no need. Lend me your sword a little; a fair sword; I see the fingers that I hold it with Clear in the blade, bright pink, the shell-color, Brighter than flesh is really, curved all round. Now men would mock if I should wear it here, Bound under bosom with a girdle, here, And yet I have heart enough to wear it well. Speak to me like a woman, let me see If I can play at man. CHASTELARD. God save King James! QUEEN. Would you could change now! Fie, this will not do; Unclasp your sword; nay, the hilt hurts my side; It sticks fast here. Unbind this knot for me: Stoop, and you'll see it closer; thank you: there. Now I can breathe, sir. Ah! it hurts me, though: This was fool's play. CHASTELARD. Yea, you are better so, Without the sword; your eyes are stronger things, Whether to save or slay. QUEEN. Alas, my side! It hurts right sorely. Is it not pitiful Our souls should be so bound about with flesh Even when they leap and smite with wings and feet, The least pain plucks them back, puts out their eyes, Turns them to tears and words? Ah my sweet knight, You have the better of us that weave and weep While the blithe battle blows upon your eyes Like rain and wind; yet I remember too When this last year the fight at Corrichie Reddened the rushes with stained fen-water, I rode with my good men and took delight, Feeling the sweet clear wind upon my eyes And rainy soft smells blown upon my face In riding: then the great fight jarred and joined, And the sound stung me right through heart and all; For I was here, see, gazing off the hills, In the wet air; our housings were all wet, And not a plume stood stiffly past the ear But flapped between the bridle and the neck; And under us we saw the battle go Like running water; I could see by fits Some helm the rain fell shining off, some flag Snap from the staff, shorn through or broken short In the man's falling: yea, one seemed to catch The very grasp of tumbled men at men, Teeth clenched in throats, hands riveted in hair, Tearing the life out with no help of swords. And all the clamor seemed to shine, the light Seemed to shout as a man doth; twice I laughed-- I tell you, twice my heart swelled out with thirst To be into the battle; see, fair lord, I swear it seemed I might have made a knight, And yet the simple bracing of a belt Makes me cry out; this is too pitiful,