Queen monologue (Act 4) — Chastelard, a Tragedy

Yea, truly were it so? But if I will not, yet I will not, sir, For all the mouths in Scotland. Now, by heaven, As I am pleased he shall not die but live, So shall ye be. There is no man shall die, Except it please me; and no man shall say, Except it please me, if I do ill or well. Which of you now will set his will to mine? Not you, nor you I think, nor none of you, Nor no man living that loves living well. Let one stand forth and smite me with his hand, Wring my crown off and cast it underfoot, And he shall get my respite back of me, And no man else: he shall bid live or die, And no man else; and he shall be my lord, And no man else. What, will not one be king? Will not one here lay hold upon my state? I am queen of you for all things come and gone. Nay, my chief lady, and no meaner one, The chiefest of my maidens, shall bear this And give it to my prisoner for a grace; Who shall deny me? who shall do me wrong? Bear greeting to the lord of Chastelard, And this withal for respite of his life, For by my head he shall die no such way: Nay, sweet, no words, but hence and back again.