Queen monologue (Act 4) — Chastelard, a Tragedy

So fare I as your lover, but not well.-- Ah sweet, if God be ever good to me To put you in my hand! I am come to shame; Let me think now, and let my wits not go; God, for dear mercy, let me not forget Why I should be so angry; the dull blood Beats at my face and blinds me-I am chafted to death, And I am shamed; I shall go mad and die. Truly I think I did kneel down, did pray, Yea, weep (who knows?) it may be-all for that. Yea, if I wept not, this was blood brake forth And burnt mine eyelids; I will have blood back, And wash them cool in the hottest of his heart, Or I will slay myself: I cannot tell: I have given gold for brass, and lo the pay Cleaves to my fingers: there's no way to mend-- Not while life stays: would God that it were gone! The fool will feed upon my fame and laugh; Till one seal up his tongue and lips with blood, He carries half my honor and good name Between his teeth. Lord God, mine head will fail! When have I done thus since I was alive? And these ill times will deal but ill with me-- My old love slain, and never a new to help, And my wits gone, and my blithe use of life, And all the grace was with me. Love-perchance If I save love I shall well save myself. I could find heart to bid him take such fellows And kill them to my hand. I was the fool To sue to these and shame myself: God knows I was a queen born, I will hold their heads Here in my hands for this. Which of you waits?