CHASTELARD. No, by God's body. You will not see? how shall I make you see? Look, it may be love was a sort of curse Made for my plague and mixed up with my days Somewise in their beginning; or indeed A bitter birth begotten of sad stars At mine own body's birth, that heaven might make My life taste sharp where other men drank sweet; But whether in heavy body or broken soul, I know it must go on to be my death. There was the matter of my fate in me When I was fashioned first, and given such life As goes with a sad end; no fault but God's. Yea, and for all this I am not penitent: You see I am perfect in these sins of mine, I have my sins writ in a book to read; Now I shall die and be well done with this. But I am sure you cannot see such things, God knows I blame you not. QUEEN. What shall be said? You know most well that I am sorrowful. But you should chide me. Sweet, you have seen fair wars, Have seen men slain and ridden red in them; Why will you die a chamberer's death like this? What, shall no praise be written of my knight, For my fame's sake? CHASTELARD. Nay, no great praise, I think; I will no more; what should I do with death, Though I died goodly out of sight of you? I have gone once: here am I set now, sweet, Till the end come. That is your husband, hark, He knocks at the outer door. Kiss me just once. You know now all you have to say. Nay, love, Let him come quickly. [Enter DARNLEY, and afterwards the MARIES.] DARNLEY. Yea, what thing is here? Ay, this was what the doors shut fast upon-- Ay, trust you to be fast at prayer, my sweet? By God I have a mind-- CHASTELARD. What mind then, sir? A liar's lewd mind, to coin sins for jest, Because you take me in such wise as this? 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; Nathless you know if I be liar or no, Wherefore for God's sake give me grace to swear (Yea, for mine too) how past all praise you are And stainless of all shame; and how all men Lie, saying you are not most good and innocent, Yea, the one thing good as God.