CHASTELARD. Chide me not: Pity me that I cannot help my heart. QUEEN. Heaven mend mine eyes that took you for a man! What, is it sewn into your flesh? take heed-- Nay, but for shame--what have you done with it? CHASTELARD. Why, there it lies, torn up. QUEEN. God help me, sir! Have you done this? CHASTELARD. Yea, sweet; what should I do? Did I not know you to the bone, my sweet? God speed you well! you have a goodly lord. QUEEN. My love, sweet love, you are more fair than he, Yea, fairer many times: I love you much, Sir, know you that. CHASTELARD. I think I know that well. Sit here a little till I feel you through In all my breath and blood for some sweet while. O gracious body that mine arms have had, And hair my face has felt on it! grave eyes And low thick lids that keep since years agone In the blue sweet of each particular vein Some special print of me! I am right glad That I must never feel a bitterer thing Than your soft curled-up shoulder and amorous arms From this time forth; nothing can hap to me Less good than this for all my whole life through. I would not have some new pain after this Come spoil the savor. O, your round bird's throat, More soft than sleep or singing; your calm cheeks, Turned bright, turned wan with kisses hard and hot; The beautiful color of your deep curved hands, Made of a red rose that had changed to white; That mouth mine own holds half the sweetness of, Yea, my heart holds the sweetness of it, whence My life began in me; mine that ends here Because you have no mercy, nay you know You never could have mercy. My fair love, Kiss me again, God loves you not the less; Why should one woman have all goodly things? You have all beauty; let mean women's lips Be pitiful, and speak truth: they will not be Such perfect things as yours. Be not ashamed That hands not made like these that snare men's souls Should do men good, give alms, relieve men's pain; You have the better, being more fair than they, They are half foul, being rather good than fair; You are quite fair: to be quite fair is best. Why, two nights hence I dreamed that I could see In through your bosom under the left flower, And there was a round hollow, and at heart A little red snake sitting, without spot, That bit--like this, and sucked up sweet--like this, And curled its lithe light body right and left, And quivered like a woman in act to love. Then there was some low fluttered talk i' the lips, Faint sound of soft fierce words caressing them-- Like a fair woman's when her love gets way. Ah, your old kiss--I know the ways of it: Let the lips cling a little. Take them off, And speak some word or I go mad with love. QUEEN. Will you not have my chaplain come to you? CHASTELARD. Some better thing of yours--some handkerchief, Some fringe of scarf to make confession to-- You had some book about you that fell out--