The Bargain

The Devil came on Sunday, of all days
and said to Bess: "I'd really love your soul."
And followed up -- you know he has his ways:
"What wouldst thou like? Got any special goal?"

You should have seen her eyes, they lit right up.
"Oh, I would durst be Queen, my demon friend!
Canst  thou perform, or dost thou prance and yap
but art thou helpless in this realm, pretend?"

Her fingers, playful, traced the glowing line
the pentagram had burned into the rug...
"This realm, Your Highness, or perhaps of mine?"
The Devil chuckled, his demeanor smug.

"This one for now", she answered, "Do proceed,
we'll think about the other when I'm gone."
The Devil nodded and produced a deed.
"Your signature, my lady, and it's done."

He then retrieved a needle from his belt:
"To prick thine finger, lady, it won't hurt".
She did it quickly, though the pricking felt
like a deep cut.  Signed, and wiped hand on skirt.

"Your sister will not carry Phillip's child",
the Devil added, checked the paperwork.
"Disease will take her whilst thou are exiled,
Thou wilt not have to see it."  Face a smirk,

he made a deep, exaggerated bow.
"Your Majesty, thou surely won't regret..."
Bess waved him off, no use, she'd made her vow.
And added: "A great playwright!  Don't forget!"

Author notes: image from GPT