QUEEN. Let him be weighed, and use him as he is; I am of my nature pitiful, ye know, And cannot turn my love unto a thorn In so brief space. Ye are all most virtuous; Yea, there is goodness grafted on this land; But yet compassion is some part of God. There is much heavier business held on hand Than one man's goodness: yea, as things fare here, A matter worth more weighing. All you wot I am choose a help to my weak feet, A lamp before my face, a lord and friend To walk with me in weary ways, high up Between the wind and rain and the hot sun. Now I have chosen a helper to myself, I wot the best a woman ever won; A man that loves me, and a royal man, A goodly love and lord for any queen. But for the peril and despite of men I have sometime tarried and withheld myself, Not fearful of his worthiness nor you, But with some lady's loathing to let out My whole heart's love; for truly this is hard, Not like a woman's fashion, shamefacedness And noble grave reluctance of herself To be the tongue and cry of her own heart. Nathless plain speech is better than much wit, So ye shall bear with me; albeit I think Ye have caught the mark whereat my heart is bent. I have kept close counsel and shut up men's lips, But lightly shall a woman's will slip out, The foolish little winged will of her, Through cheek or eye when tongue is charmed asleep. For that good lord I have good will to wed, I wot he knew long since which way it flew, Even till it lit on his right wrist and sang. Lo, here I take him by the hand: fair lords, This is my kinsman, made of mine own blood, I take to halve the state and services That bow down to me, and to be my head, My chief, my master, my sweet lord and king. Now shall I never say "sweet cousin" more To my dear head and husband; here, fair sir, I give you all the heart of love in me To gather off my lips. Did it like you, The taste of it? sir, it was whole and true. God save our king! DARNLEY. Nay, nay, sweet love, no lord; No king of yours though I were lord of these. QUEEN. Let word be sent to all good friends of ours To help us to be glad; England and France Shall bear great part of our rejoicings up. Give me your hand, dear lord; for from this time I must not walk alone. Lords, have good cheer: For you shall have a better face than mine To set upon your kingly gold and show For Scotland's forehead in the van of things. Go with us now, and see this news set out. [Exeunt QUEEN, DARNLEY, and LORDS.] [As CHASTELARD is going out, enter MARY BEATON.] MARY BEATON. Have you yet heard? You knew of this? CHASTELARD. I know. I was just thinking how such things were made And were so fair as this is. Do you know She held me here and talked--the most sweet talk Men ever heard of? MARY BEATON. You hate me to the heart. What will you do?