Mary Beaton monologue (Act 1) — Chastelard, a Tragedy

See how now, fair lord, I have but scant breath's time to help myself, And I must cast my heart out on a chance; So bear with me. That we twain have loved well, I have no heart nor wit to say; God wot We had never made good lovers, you and I. Look you, I would not have you love me, sir, For all the love's sake in the world. I say, You love the queen, and loving burns you up, And mars the grace and joyous wit you had, Turning your speech to sad, your face to strange, Your mirth to nothing: and I am piteous, I, Even as the queen is, and such women are; And if I helped you to your love-longing, Meseems some grain of love might fall my way And love's god help me when I came to love; I have read tales of men that won their loves On some such wise.