know no other thing,
But that the king would have him for a pledge
Of the Lord Bruce's faith.

SAL. And reason, too.
Now, by my honour, Hubert, I protest
It is good reason: Bruce, I tell you plain,
Is no sound cloak to keep John from the rain.[322]
I will go to her.

HUB. Do, good simple earl.
If not by threats nor my entreats she yield,
Thy brain is barren of invention,
Dried up with care; and never will she yield
Her son to thee, that having power want'st wit.

LADY B. I overhear thee, Hubert.

SAL. So do I, Dame Bruce;
But stir no coals: the man is well belov'd,
And merits more than so.

LADY B. But I will answer.
Hubert, thou fatal keeper of poor babes,
That are appointed hostages for John,[323]
Had I a son here, as I have not one,
(For yesterday I sent him into Wales),
Think'st thou I would be so degenerate,
So far from kind, to give him unto thee?
I would not, I protest: thou know'st my mind.

SAL. Lady, you fear more than you need to do;
Indeed you do--in very deed you do.
Hubert is wrong'd about the thing you mean--
About young Arthur: O, I thought 'twas so:
Indeed the honest, good, kind gentleman
Did all he might for safeguard of the child.

QUEEN. Believe me, Madam Bruce, the man is wrong'd.

LADY B. But he wrongs me to keep my castle thus,
Disarming my true servants, arming his.
Now more of outrage comes! what shall I do?

_Enter the_ KING, MOWBRAY, WINCHESTER, CHESTER.

KING. O, this is well! Hubert, where's Bruce's son?

LADY B. Where thou shalt never see him, John.

KING. Lady, we will have talk with you anon.
Where is he, Hubert?

HUB. Hid or fled, my lord:
We can by no means get her to confess.

SAL. Welcome to Guildford, Salisbury's liefest lord.[324]

KING. You scarce give welcome, ere I bid you go;
For you, my lord, the queen and Winchester
Shall march to Hertford. Sweet Isabel,
And if thou love me, play the amazon.
Matilda, that hath long bewitch'd mine eye,
Is, as I hear by spials, now in Hertford Castle:
Besiege her there; for now her haughty father
Ruffians it up and down, and all the brood
Of viperous traitors whet their poison'd teeth,
That they may feed on us that foster them.
Go forward, and go with you victory!
Which to assure my powers shall follow you.

SAL. Did I not tell you this? then trust me next.
Nay, he is chang'd, and cares no more for her
Than I do, madam.

KING. Begone, I say, begone!
Your speed rich victory attendeth on:
But your delay