OXFORD

So doing, peace shall wait upon your crown, And blessing upon blessing shall befall. Answer me good Hubert, I pray the Hubert do. What think you of this matter, may I on your word Persuade the woman that all things are well? So do I dame Bruise: But stir no coals: the man is well beloved, And merits more than so. Lady, you fear more than you need to do, Indeed you do, in very deed you do: Hubert is wronged about the thing you mean, About young Arthurs: Oh, I thought it so: Indeed the honest, good, kind gentleman Did all he might for safeguard of the child. Let me alone: Matilda, maiden fair, Thou virgin spouse, true Huntingtons joust heir, Wilt thou come hither? and I do protest, The Queen and I, to mitigate this war, Will do what thou wouldst have. Alack, alack for woe: well God for us, sith it will needs be so, What stay you for? Coward proud boy? thou findest me no such beast, And thou shalt rue in earnest this rude jest. Rude hands, how hale you virtuous honour forth? You do not well: away: now by my faith, Ye do not well I say. Take her, fair Queen, use her as she deserves: She's fair, she's noble, chased, and debonair. I must, according to endue course of war, See that our soldiers scatter not too fare, Least what care won, our negligence mray lose. How goes this gear? would? foul fallen so foul a deed, Poor chased child of Fitzwater dost thou bleed. By Gods blessed mother this is more than need: And more I tell you true than I would bear, Were not the danger of the camp so near. Why heres the matter, we must spend our time, To keep your nails from scratching innocence, Which should have been bestowed for our defence. What shall we now do! help me holy God, The foe is come, and we are out of rank. I marry had we; we had taken her. You are a king: and high are Princes thoughts: It may be with your sighed you could have chaced And host of armed men: it may be so: But we your subjects did the best we could: Yet Bruise the father, backing Bruise the son, Scattered our troops: brought rescue to Matilda, And took your peerless Queen, their prisoner. I will my liege: but be you comforted, The Queen will be recovered, do not fear. As well as ere she was; Yet for the wrong she did unto Matilda, I fear, I fear, Here my dread Sovereign. Under correction you wrong my age. Say I beseech you, is not this the Queen? Are you advised my Lord? I tell you plain my Lord, I brooked it not, But stayed the tempest. I did indeed: my liege Lord give me leave, To leave the Camp. Come Lady, come away. Tempt not his rage ruin wrath always brings: Lust being lord, there is no trust in kings. Now by my faith, you are too blame Madame: Ever tormenting ever vexing you? Cease off these fretting humours, pray ye do. Gri fe will not mend it, nought can pleasure you, But patient suffering: nor by your Graces leave, Have you such cause to make this hue and cry After a husband; you have not in good sooth. Yearly a child? this payment is not bade. Content fair Queen, and do not think it strange, That kings do sometime seek delight in change: For now and then, I tell you, poor men range. Fit down a little, I will make you smile. Though I be now Like to the snowy Alps, I was as hight as Aetna in my youth: All fire i'faith, true heart of oak, right steel, A ruffian Lady: often for my sport, I to a lodge of mine did make resort, To view my deer I said; deer God can tell, It was my keepers wife, whom I loved well. My Countess (God be with her) was a shrow, As women be, your Majesty does know: And some odd pickth anke put it in her head, All was not well: but such a life I led, And the poor keeper, and his smoothed faced wife, That will I, nil I, there she might not bide But for the people I did well provide: And by gods mother, for my Ladies spite, I tricked her in her kind, I served her right. Were she at London, I the country kept; Come thither, I at London would solourne: Came she to court, from court I straight way stepped: Return, I to the court would back return. So this way, that way, every way she went, I still was retrograde, seld opposite Till at the last, by mildness and submission, We met, kissed, joined, and here left all suspicion. Now, by my faith, I will be sworn, I am. In all I tell you, I confess no ill, But that I curbed a froward woman's will: Yet had my keepers wife be of my mind, There had be cause some fault with us to find: But I protest, her Noah's and nays were such, That for my life she ever kept go much. Would dove, good Queen, for gods good love, would done. This raging humour will no doubt be stayed. Virtuous Matilda is professed a Nun: Within a mile, at Dunmow lives the maid: God will not suffer any thing so vile: He will not sure, that he should her defile. You are indeed. You wronged her, when with blows you made her bleed. B to if you please to visit her, fair dame, Our coach is ready: we will soon be there. Not nigh him Madame? yes: keep you away. Why starest thou thus? speak fellow, answer me, Who art thou? Hold him for gods sake: stay the desperate wretch. How now Fitzwaters child? how dost thou girl? Oh pity, mourning sighed, age pitiless: Are these the messages king John does send! Keep in, my tears, for shame, your conduits keep, Sad woe beholding eyes: no, will you not? Why, then a Gods name weep. I, be it so. Your self, if so you please, Will I attend upon, and both us wait On chased Matilda's body: which with speed, To Windsor Castle we will hence convey: There is another spectacle of ruth, Old Bruises famished Lady and her son. But where's the murderer, would? is not he stayed? Alas for woe: but this is joust heavens doom On those that live by blood: in blood they die. May and example of it, honest friends, Do well, take pains, beware of cruelty. Come Madam, come, to Windsor let us go: And there to Bruises grief, add greater woe. Lords, by your leave, is not our sovereign here? Ah my gracious Lord, That you so much your high state should neglect! Ah God in heaven forgive this bloody deed. Young Bruise, young Bruise, I weep, Thy mother's and thy brother's wrong. Yet to afflict thee more, more grief I bring I cannot tell thee yet. I must fit down. Attend young Bruise, and listen to the Queen: Sheele not be tongue tied, we shall have a stir Anon, I fear, would make a man half sick. What? are you desperate? that must not be. Hear me my Lords. Hark Lester but one word, a little stay. Help me good Hubert, help me gentle Queen. And as I say, hark Bruise unto our talk. Think you it is for love of England, Lewis comes? Nay: France is not so kind: I would it were. Advise your selves, hark, dost thou hear me Bruise? Can noble English hearts bear the French yoke? No Lester Richmond think on Lewis sire, That le to you, and your king, in Palestine. Thou canst not Hubert, he hath killed himself: But to our matter. Lester, pray thee speak. Young Bruise, for gods sake let us know thy mind. But you must mendy faith, in faith you must. Comfort my Lord, comfort my gracious Lord. Your love is come again. Gods passion do not so: king John is here. Lords, whisper not with Lester Lester, fie: Stir not again regardless utinie: Speak to them Hugh: I know thou loou'st the king. Madame, go to them, nay do, for gods sake do: Down with your stomach: for if he go down, You must down too, and be no longer Queen: Advise you, go entreat them speedily. My sovereign wherefore fit you sighing there? The Lords are all about to follow Lewis: Up and entreat them, else they will away. And say you Lady Abbess that there came One from the King unto her: what was he?