One of you maidens there Bid my lord hither. Now by Mary's soul, He shall not die and bring me into shame. There's treason in you like a fever, hot, My holy-natured brother, cheek and eye; You look red through with it: sick, honor-sick, Specked with the blain of treason, leper-like-- A scrupulous fair traitor with clean lips-- If one should sue to hell to do him good He were as brotherly holpen as I am. This man must live and say no harm of me; I may reprieve and cast him forth; yea, so-- This were the best; or if he die midway-- Yea, anything, so that he die not here. (To the MARIES within.) Fetch hither Darnley. Nay, ye gape on me-- What, doth he sleep, or feeds, or plays at games? Why, I would see him; I am weary for his sake; Bid my lord in.-Nathless he will but chide; Nay, fleer and laugh: what should one say to him? There were some word if one could hit on it; Some way to close with him: I wot not.-Sir, (Enter DARNLEY.) Please it your love I have a suit to you. (DARNLEY: What sort of suit?) Nay, if you be not friends-- I have no suit towards mine enemies. (DARNLEY: Eh, do I look now like your enemy?) You have a way of peering under brow I do not like. If you see anything In me that irks you I will painfully Labor to lose it: do but show me favor, And as I am your faithful humble wife This foolishness shall be removed in me.

Queen Monologue from Chastelard, a Tragedy

Rehearse Queen's monologue