Which, as he stoop'd into the Virgin's side,
From off his finger, like a signet-gem,
He dropp'd in the empyrean for a sign.
But the first tear he shed at his birth-hour,
When he crept weeping forth to see our woe,
Fled up to heaven in mist, and hid for ever

Our sins, our works, and that same new-made star.
Woman. Poor soul! she wanders.

Con.

Eliz.

Con.

Wanders! Fool! her madness

Is worth a million of your " paters," mumbled
At every station between-

O! thank God
Our eyes are dim! What should we do, if he,
The sneering Fiend, who laughs at all our toil,
Should meet us face to face?

We'd call him fool.

Eliz. There! there! Fly, Satan! fly!-'Tis gone!

Con. The victory's gain'd at last.

The Fiend is baffled, and her saintship sure!
O people bless'd of heaven!

Eliz.
O master! master!
You will not let the mob, when I am dead,
Make me a show-paw over all my limbs-
Pull out my hair-pluck off my finger-nails,—
Wear scraps of me for charms and amulets,
As if I were a mummy, or a drug?

Con.

As they have done to others,-I have seen it;-
Nor set me up in ugly naked pictures

In every church, that cold world-harden'd wits
May gossip o'er my secret tortures?
Swear to me! I demand it !

Promise!

No man lights

A candle to be hid beneath a bushel.

Thy virtues are the Church's dower: endure
All which the edification of the faithful
Makes needful to be publish'd!

III.-21

Eliz.

O my God!

Con.

I have stripp'd myself of all but modesty :
Dost thou claim yet that victim ?-Be it so!
Now take me home! I have no more to give thee !—
So weak, and yet no pain,-why, now nought ails me.
How dim the lights burn! Here-

Where are the children?

Alas! I had forgotten.

Now I must sleep,-for ere the sun shall rise
I must begone upon a long long journey
To him I love.

She means her heavenly bridegroom,

MARY BEATON, one of the queen's ladies, loves CHASTELARD, who loves and is loved by the Queen. MARY BEATON promises to arrange a night-meeting for him with the Queen, but meets him herself.

Night. In MARY BEATON's chamber.

Chast. I am not certain yet she will not come :
For I can feel her hand's heat still in mine,
Past doubting of; and see her brows half-drawn,
And half a light in the eyes. If she come not,
I am no worse than he that dies to-night :

This two years' patience gets an end at least.
Whichever way I am well done with it.

How hard the thin sweet moon is, split and laced
And latticed over, just a stray of it

Catching and clinging at a strip of wall,

Hardly a hand's breadth! Did she turn indeed

In going out? not to catch up her gown
The page let slip, but to keep sight of me?
There was a soft small stir beneath her eyes,
Hard to put on; a quivering of her blood,
That knew of the old nights watch'd out wakefully.
Those measures of her dancing too were changed,-
More swift, and with more eager stops at whiles
And rapid pauses where breath fail'd her lips.

Enter MARY BEATON.

O, she is come! If you be she indeed

Let me but hold your hand! What! no word yet?
You turn and kiss me without word. O Sweet!

If you will slay me be not overquick!
Kill me with some slow heavy kiss that plucks
The heart out at the lips! Alas, sweet Love!
Give me some old sweet word to kiss away!-
Is it a jest? for I can feel your hair

Touch me; I may embrace your body too?
I know you well enough without sweet words.
How should one make you speak?—This is not she.
Come in the light! nay! let me see your eyes!
Ah, you it is! What have I done to you?
And do you look now to be slain for this,

That you twist back and shudder like one stabb'd? Beat. Yea! kill me now, and do not look at me!

God knows I mean'd to die. Sir! for God's love, Kill me now quick ere I go mad with shame! Chast. Cling not upon my wrists! let go the hilt! Nay! you will bruize your hand with it. Stand up! You shall not have my sword forth.

Beat.

Kill me now! I will not rise: there, I am patient, see! I will not strive but kill me, for God's sake! Chast. Pray you rise up, and be not shaken so!

Forgive me my rash words! my heart was gone

Beat.

After the thing you were. Be not ashamed!
Give me the shame! you have no part in it.
Can I not say a word shall do you good?
Forgive that too!

I shall run crazed with shame;
But when I felt your lips catch hold on mine,
It stopp'd my breath: I would have told you all.
Let me go out! you see I lied to you,

And I am shamed. I pray you, loose me, sir!
Let me go out !

Chast.

Think no base things of me!

I were most base to let you go ashamed.

Think my heart's love and honour go with you;
Yea! while I live, for your love's noble sake,

I am your servant in what wise may be,

To love and serve you with right thankful heart. Beat. I have given men leave to mock me, and must bear What shame they please: you have good cause to mock. Let me pass now!

Chast.

You know I mock you not.

If ever I leave off to honour you,

God give me shame! I were the worst churl born. Beat. No marvel though the Queen should love you too,

Being such a knight. I pray you, for her love,

Lord Chastelard ! of your great courtesy,

Think now no scorn to give me my last kiss

That I shall have of man before I die!

Even the same lips you kiss'd and knew not of

Will you kiss now, knowing the shame of them,

And say no one word to me afterwards,—

That I may see I have loved the best lover

And man most courteous of all men alive?

Mary Seyton (within). Here! fetch the light! Nay! this way! Enter all!

Beat. I am twice undone. Fly! get some hiding, sir!

They have spied upon me somehow.

Chast.

Stand by my side!

Nay! fear not!

Ham.

Enter MARY SEYTON and MARY HAMILTON.
Give me that light! This way!

Chast. What jest is here? fair ladies! it walks late.
Something too late for laughing.

Seyt.

Nay! fair sir!
What jest is this of yours? Look to your lady!
She is nigh swoon'd. The Queen shall know all this.
Ham. A grievous shame it is we are fallen upon ;

Hold forth the light! Is this your care of us?
Nay! come, look up! this is no game, God wot.
Chast. Shame shall befall them that speak shamefully.
I swear this lady is as pure and good

As any maiden; and who believes me not
Shall keep the shame for his part, and the lie.
To them that come in honour and not in hate
I will make answer. Lady! have good heart!
Give me the light there! I will see you forth.

death, the Queen consenting, that she may save her reputation. At the time of his execution, MARY BRATON and MARY CARMICHAEL are in an upper room at Holyrood, overlooking the place; MARY CARMICHAEL at the window.

Beat. Do you see nothing?

Car.

Nay! but swarms of men

And talking women together in small space,
Flapping their gowns, and gaping with fools' eyes;
And a thin ring round one that seems to speak,

Holding his hands out eagerly no more.

Beat. Why, I hear more: I hear men shout The Queen!
Car. Nay! no cries yet.

Beat.

Ah! they will cry out soon,

When she comes forth; they should cry Out on her;
I heard them crying in my heart. Nay! Sweet!