 | The Queen-Mother |  |
Scene VI.
Outside the Louvre.Enter Denise.
Den.
I cannot find a man; the cries are thick;
145
Hath put the order forward; I may see him
And so prevent some peril; and though they slay me,
I die of my misdoing. Yet I fear death
Most piteously, wear passion on my cheek
White as a coward's. I'll yet forth and look;
For in the temper of this bloody time
Must sleep my help or end; I may discover him
And that may be some grace; now God be good,
Or I am so far bruised this way, as death
Can bite no sharper.
[Exit.
| The Queen-Mother | |