University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

A Cabinet.
Enter the Queen-Mother and Tavannes.
Ca.
So, you did see them forth?

Tav.
Madam, I did;
The king doth fare by this more temperately.

Ca.
If he turn white and stagger at his point,
It is too late. The mortal means of danger
Are well abroad; and this sole work o' the world
Fit to set hands to. How do you feel by this?

Tav.
Why, well; as if my blood were full of wine.

Ca.
I am hot only in the palm of the hands.
Do you not think, sir, some of these dead men,
Being children, dreamed perhaps of this? had fears
About it? somewhat plucked them back, who knows,
From wishing to grow men and ripen up
For such a death to thrust a sickle there?

Tav.
I never found this woman mixed in you.

Ca.
No.—I am certain also that this hour
Goes great with child-birth and with fortunate seed,
Worth care to harvest; sons are born and die,
Yea, and choke timeless in the dead strait womb,
Of whom we know not; each day breeds worse; it is
The general curse of seasons.

Tav.
Well, what help?

Ca.
True.—It hurts little for a man to die,
If he be righteous. Were I a swordsman born,
A man with such red office in my hands
As makes a soldier—it would touch me not
To think what milk mine enemy's mouth had drunk,
When both were yearlings a span long. My God!
It is too foolish that conceit of blood
Should stick so on the face; I must look red;
Give me the little mirror-steel; now see;
Here is no painting.

Tav.
Yea, but let me go.

Ca.
It is man's blood that burns so deep and bites
No crying cleans it. If one kill a dog,
The spot sticks on your skirt as water might;
The next rain is a worse thing. Humph! I see;
We have some hot and actual breath in us
That blood lets out; we feed not as they do;
So the soul comes and makes all motion new;
One guesses at it.

Tav.
Will you go mad for this?

Ca.
No.—If one strike me on the mouth or breast,
And I am hurt and bleed to death—is that
Murder? I would not kill them for their blood;
God's mercy! wherein can their blood serve me?
Let all go through.

Tav.
Madam, I take my leave;
All shall run out ere we two speak again.

Ca.
Hark, I hear shots; as God shall pity me,
I heard a shot. Who dies of that? yea now,
Who lies and moans and makes some inches red?

Tav.
Not for an hour yet; the first dial-rim
Makes the first shot.

Ca.
The noise moves in my head,
Most hotly moves; pray you keep clear of me.
God help my woman's body for a fool's!
I must even sit.

Tav.
Be patient with your cause;
Give it all room, then you get heart again;
I know those ways.

Ca.
Too sharp to drink, too sharp,
Sweet Christ of mine; blood is not well to drink,
God put this cup some little off my mouth.
Yea, there it catches in mine eyes like smoke,
The smell of blood, it stings and makes one weep;
So, God be patient till I breathe again.

Tav.
Are you fallen foolish? woman—madam—thou!
Take heart to speak at least.

Ca.
I will take heart.
What is there in it that should bar my breath,
Or make me babble stark across the sense
As I did then? can the flesh merely prate
With no mind in it to fall praying, ha?
Give me some wine. Go out and cheer your men;
Bid them be bold; say, work is worth such pains;
Be quick and dangerous as the fire that rides
Too fast for thunder. Tell them the king, the king
Will love each man, cherish him sweetly, say,
And I will hold him as that brother is
Whom one flesh covered with me.—Will it rain?

Tav.
No; the wide ends of the sky are clear with stars;
It is broad moon-time.

Ca.
I would fain see rain.
Art thou so slow of purpose, thou great God,
The keenest of thy sighted ministers
Can catch no knowledge what we do? for else
Surely the wind would be as a hard fire,
And the sea's yellow and distempered foam
Displease the happy heaven; wash corn with sand
To waste and mixture; mar the trees of growth;
Choke birds with salt, breach walls with tided brine,
And chase with heavy water the horned brood
Past use of limit; towers and popular streets
Should in the middle green smother and drown,
And havoc die with fulness.—I should be mad,
I talk as one filled through with wine; thou, God,
Whose thunder is confusion of the hills
And with wrath sown abolishes the fields,
I pray thee if thy hand would ruin us,
Make witness of it even this night that is
The last for many cradles, and the grave
Of many reverend seats; even at this turn,
This edge of season, this keen joint of time,
Finish and spare not. If no thunder came
When thou wert full of wrath to the fierce brim,
Next year would spit on worship.—I am faint yet;
See you, I have to chatter these big words
To keep my head straight; each small nerve it hath
Is like a chord pulled straight to play upon
Till the string ache at sound. Sir, bear with me.

Tav.
Keep but soft speech. Nay, pray you let me go;
Open the door; I should be hence in time.

[The King of Navarre passes over the stage.
Ca.
Good night, lord marshal. You come late, fair sir,
To bear my daughter commendations.
I doubt she looks for you; I have had pains
To bring her safe and presently your way;
She had some will to watch.

Hen.
I am the more bound to you.

Ca.
Let my praise sleep to-night, unless you do
Speak well of me to her. See, the white stars
Do burn upon the fair blue weather's waste
Thick as a lulled wind carries the marred leaves;
Yea, see how grey my likenesses are grown,
That grow on my grey years!

Hen.
Madam, good night.

[Exit.
Ca.
That gives one heart; and yet I seem to choke,
I shall feel weak till I do hear them shoot.
Pray you take order that the watch be sharp
Upon this boy.

Tav.
I shall take order.

Ca.
Yea,
But go with me till I have seen the king.

[Exeunt.