Monologue

Queen Monologue from Chastelard, a Tragedy

From Chastelard, a Tragedy by Algernon Charles Swinburne

female · anguished · 47 sec

I love you best of them. Clasp me quite round till your lips cleave on mine, False mine, that did you wrong. Forgive them dearly As you are sweet to them; for by love's love I am not that evil woman in my heart That laughs at a rent faith. O Chastelard, Since this was broken to me of your new love I have not seen the face of a sweet hour. Nay, if there be no pardon in a man, What shall a woman have for loving him? Pardon me, sweet.

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