QUEEN.
A maid may have kissed cheeks
And no shame in them—yet one would not swear.
You have sworn that. Pray God he be not mad:
A sickness in his eyes. The left side love
(I was told that) and the right courtesy.
'T is good fools' fashion. What, no more but this?
For me, God knows I am no whit wroth; not I;
But, for your fame's sake that her shame will sting,
I cannot see a way to pardon her—
For your fame's sake, lest that be prated of.
MARY SEYTON.
Nay, if she were not chaste—I have not said
She was not chaste.
QUEEN.
I know you are tender of her;
And your sweet word will hardly turn her sweet.
MARY SEYTON.
Indeed I would fain do her any good.
Shall I not take some gracious word to her?
QUEEN.
Bid her not come or wait on me to-day.
MARY SEYTON.
Will you see him?
QUEEN.
See—O, this Chastelard?
He doth not well to sing maids into shame;
And folk are sharp here; yet for sweet friends' sake
Assuredly I 'll see him. I am not wroth.
A goodly man, and a good sword thereto—
It may be he shall wed her. I am not wroth.
MARY SEYTON.
Nay, though she bore with him, she hath no great love,
I doubt me, that way.
QUEEN.
God mend all, I pray—
And keep us from all wrongdoing and wild words.
I think there is no fault men fall upon
But I could pardon. Look you, I would swear
She were no paramour for any man,
So well I love her.
MARY SEYTON.
Am I to bid him in?