For the earl, he makes no part of men's designs,
Nor would I have you keen to strive with him
Who lies yet still and is well liked of men
That are well-willers to this common state
And the open peace of the people. Let him be;
Keep your heart here.
Here is it fixed and set
'Tis more honour to us,
Being so more perilous, to have no help
Of popular hands and common friendliness,
But our hearts helpful only. I am sure of her,
That she suspects not-I do surely think :
But yet she is subtle and secret-souled and wise,
Wise woman-fashion; look you be not caught
Through too much trust in what of her is weak,
In her light mind and mutability,
For subtlety lies close in her light wit,
And wisdom wantons in her wantonness :
I know her, I know her; I have seen ere now,
Not all to learn in women.
Your grace hath grace with women as with men,
And skill of sense alike in those and these,
I doubt not; which is well and profitable.
For this, how shall she know it, except you slip
And let her wring the truth out from your hand,
Or kiss the truth out, hanging mouth on mouth?
But if no pressure press from hand or lip
The unripe truth, the fruit so soon so red,
What can she to us, though doubting, help or harm?
How, if she know not surely?
And we that do it, we do it for all men's good,
For the main people's love, thankworthily-
And this is matter of law we take in hand,
Is it not, lawful? for the man is judged,
Doomed dead and damned by sentence, in good deed,
Though not by scruple and show of trial and test,
By clearer cause and purer policy
We cannot stand toward any accountable
As for a slaughter, a treasonable shame,
To mark us red in the world's eyes? no man
Can say our fame is blotted with his blood,
No man, albeit he hate us, bring in doubt-
Woman or man-our right, our absolute law,
Giving us leave-nay, bidding us do so?
So that we stand after the deed as now,
In no more danger or fear?
And much more honour; now it might please you fear,
Being overborne of woman and fast bound
With feminine shame and weakness; the man's
The sinew and nerve and spirit of royalty,
Hers, and all power to use her power on you
Hers, and all honour and pleasure of high place
That should make sweet your lips and bright your
Hers, and the mockery of mismarried men
Darnley. Nay, by God I said so; why, I knew it; I told you thus aforetime, did I not?
Morton. Truly and wisely; if this content you thus, He is even our king.
Methinks he should be king,
And I, God wot, content. Here came a man
Some few days back, a goodly, a gentleman,
An honourable, that for king knave's behoof
Was stript out of the better of all his lands
As I of what was best part of my wife,
My place, and honour that grows up with hers-
For of her love small fruit was left to strip,
Few leaves for winter weather-but of these,
These good things, am I stript as bare as shame,
Even beggared as was this man. By God's light,
It seems this is but justice, doth it not,
And I so gentle and temperate-as, by God,
I was not nor I will not.
That you seem resolutely temperate then
And temperately be resolute, I say,
Till the hour to cast off temperance and put on
Plain passion for the habit of your heart
Which now it wears in darkness, and by day
The cloak and hood of temperance. But these fits
And gusts and starts of will and will not, these
Blow you this side and that side till men see
Too much, and trust too little.
You are honourable, and a counsellor, and my friend,
And I too light, too light-yet by this light
I think I am worth more than your counsel is
If I be worth this work here to be done-
And you much wiser; yet forbear your wrath
If you would have it ready to your hand.
Darnley. I will forbear nothing-nor nothing bear—
Nor live by no man's bidding. This year through
I have even been surfeited with wise men's breath
And winds of wordy weather round mine ears—
Do this, spare that, walk thus, look otherwise,
Hold your head kingly, or wisely bow your neck—
A man might come to doubt himself no man,
Being so long childlike handled. Now, look you,
Look she, look God to it if I be not man!
Now is my way swept, and my foot shod now,
My wallet full now for the travelling day
That I fare forth and forward, arrow-straight,
Girt for the goal, red battle-ripe at need-
As need there is—you are sure—and utter need?
Morton. Is my lord not sure?
Surer maybe the need is more of mine—
This grazes your bare hand that grates my heart :
Your queen it is wrongs you, and me my wife.
Morton. You see that sure, too? sharp sight, have you not?
Darnley. I saw it, I first-I knew her-who knew her but I,
That swore at least I swore to mine own soul,
Would not for shame's sake swear out wide to the world,
But in myself swore with my heart to hear—
There was more in it, in all their commerce, more
Than the mere music-he is warped, worn through,
Bow-bent, uncomely in wholesome eyes that see
Straight, seeing him crooked-but she seeing awry
Sees the man straight enough for paramour.
This I saw, this I swore to-silently,
Not loud but sure, till time should be to speak
Sword's language, no fool's jargon like his tongue,
But plain broad steel speech and intelligible,
Though not to the ear, Italian's be it or Scot's,
But to the very life intelligible,
To the loosed soul, to the shed blood-for blood
There must be-one must slay him-you are sure-
For I was sure of it always-while you said,
All you, 'twas council-stuff, state-handicraft,
Cunning of card-play between here and there,
I knew 'twas this and more, sir, I kept sight,
Kept heed of her, what thing she was, what wife,
What manner of stateswoman and governess—
More than all you saw-did you see it or I?
Morton. You saw first surely, and some one spoke first out
You had eyes, he tongue-and both bear witness now If this must be or not be.
I must kill-bid you kill him?
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