O, do you think I hold you off with words? Why, take it then; there is my handwriting, And here the hand that you shall slay him with. 'Tis a fair hand, a maiden-colored one: I doubt yet it has never slain a man. You never fought yet save for game, I wis. Nay, thank me not, but have it from my sight; Go and make haste for fear he be got forth: It may be such a man is dangerous; Who knows what friends he hath? and by my faith I doubt he hath seen some fighting, I do fear He hath fought and shed men's blood; ye are wise men That will not leave such dangerous things alive; 'T were well he died the sooner for your sakes. Pray you make haste; it is not fit he live. (DARNLEY: What, will you let him die so easily?) Why, God have mercy! what way should one take To please such people? there's some cunning way, Something I miss, out of my simple soul. What, must one say "Beseech you do no harm," Or "for my love, sweet cousins, be not hard," Or "let him live but till the vane come round"-- Will such things please you? well then, have your way; Sir, I desire you, kneeling down with tears, With sighs and tears, fair sir, require of you, Considering of my love I bear this man, Just for my love's sake let him not be hanged Before the sundown; do thus much for me, To have a queen's prayers follow after you. (DARNLEY: I know no need for you to gibe at me.) Alack, what heart then shall I have to jest? There is no woman jests in such a wise-- For the shame's sake I pray you hang him not, Seeing how I love him, save indeed in silk, Sweet twisted silk of my sad handiwork. Nay, and you will not do so much for me; You vex your lip, biting the blood and all: Were this so hard, and you compassionate? I am in sore case then, and will weep indeed.

Queen Monologue from Chastelard, a Tragedy

Rehearse Queen's monologue