Page:Mary Stuart (Drinkwater).djvu/32

 ::(She sings) Ill names there are, as Lethington, Moray, Elizabeth, By craft of these I am undone, And love is put to death. Though brighter wit I had than these, Their cunning brought me down, But Mary's love-story shall please Better than their renown,

Mary the lover be my tale For the wise men to tell When Moray joins Elizabeth And Lethington in hell.

Not Riccio nor Darnley knew Nor Bothwell how to find This Mary's best magnificence Of the great lover's mind. Beaton: It's well done.

Mary: Truly, at least.

Beaton: Your hair?

Mary: Yes.

Beaton (arranging it): If I were a queen—

Mary: No, Beaton, you wouldn't, I've told