Queen monologue (Act 4) — Chastelard, a Tragedy

You are no churl, sweet, will you see me weep? Look, I weep now; be friends with my poor tears, Think each of them beseeches you of love And hath some tongue to cry on you for love And speak soft things; for that which loves not you Is none of mine, not though they grow of grief And grief of you; be not too hard with them. You would not of your own heart slay a man; Nay, if you will, in God's name make me weep, I will not hate you; but at heart, sweet lord, Be not at heart my sweet heart's enemy. If I had many mighty men to friend I would not plead too lovingly with you To have your love.