KING.  We shall her jewel have.

HUB.  She is very fearful I should keep her son.

LADY B. [Within.] Ye do, ye do!

KING.  Alas! good Lady, hark:  Chester and she are chiding.

  Enter CHESTER and she, leading the boy.

LADY B. Let go his hand!  Is this a paw, think you,
To hold a tender hand in? fie, for shame! 
A nobleman so churlish!  Look, I pray,
His arms are gristless.[327]

KING.  How now, Lady Bruce! 
Doth Chester hurt the jewel of your joy? 
Now, by my troth, it is a pretty boy!

LADY B. Ay, knew your majesty as much as I,
You would say more.

KING.  Well, he and you of us no wrong shall have,
But stay in Windsor Castle with Sir Walter Blunt,
And honourably be us’d; provided still
Your husband and your son obey our will.

LADY B. For this great mercy, if they disobey,
Myself will chide them.  Fortune follow John,
And on his foes fall swift destruction!

KING.  Come! let us now after the queen and Salisbury.

[Exeunt omnes.

SCENE IV.

Enter the QUEEN, SALISBURY, Soldiers.

QUEEN.  Now are ye, worthy and resolved men,
Come to the cage where the unclean birds bide,
That tire[328] on all the fair flight in the realm. 
Summon this castle, or (to keep my words)
This cage of night-hid owls, light-flying birds.
                                [Offer to summon.

    Enter YOUNG BRUCE, MATILDA, Soldiers.

SAL.  Stay, drum! thou need’st not summon willing men,
Or rather wilful, for such methinks they be.

QUEEN.  See ye yon baggage, muffled in black weeds: 
Those clouds fold in the comet that portends
Sad desolation to this royal realm. 
For ever seek to mask her light, good friends: 
Let us disrobe her of each little beam,
And then your Phoebus will one Phoebe have,
That while they live shall lend your land true light,
Give joy unto your day, rest to your night. 
Assail them, stay not.

SAL.  Stay, and assay them first! 
I say to you, fair queen, this fact is foul. 
Let not provoking words whet dull-edg’d swords,
But try if we can blunt sharp blades with words. 
Fitzwater’s nephew, Bruce, I see thee there,
And tell thee it is shame for such a boy
To lead a many able men to fight. 
And, modest-looking maid, I see you too: 
An unfit sight to view virginity
Guarded with other soldiers than good prayers. 
But you will say the king occasions it: 
Say what you will, no king but would take cause
Of just offence. 
Yield you, young Bruce, your mother is in hold. 
Yield you, young maid, your father is in hold.

MAT.  Will the queen keep me from the lustful king,
Then will I yield.