er life;
To impure thoughts she never could be won:
And she of honour was the honour too.
By birth and life[378] she honour honoured.
Bring in two tapers lighted: quick, despatch!

LEI. Remember, Bruce, thy charge. Come, lords, away!

ALL _but_ OXFORD _and_ HUBERT. Away! we will away.

[_Bring in two white tapers_.

OX. Hark, Leicester, but one word: a little stay.
Help me, good Hubert! help me, gentle queen!

[_Again confer_.[379]

KING. How dim these tapers burn! they give no light.
Here were two beauteous lamps, that could have taught
The sun to shine by day, the moon by night;
But they are dim, too, clean extinguished.
Away with these, sith those fair lights be dead!

OX. And, as I say--hark, Bruce, unto our talk--
Think you it is for love of England Louis comes?
Nay. France is not so kind; I would it were.
Advise yourselves. Hark, dost thou hear me, Bruce?

BRUCE. Oxford, I do.

OX. Can noble English hearts bear the French yoke?
No, Leicester: Richmond, think on Louis' sire,
That left you and your king in Palestine.

QUEEN. And think, beside, you know not Louis's nature,
Who may be as bad as John, or, rather, worse
Than he.

HUB. And look, my lords, upon his silent woe;
His soul is at the door of death, I know.
See how he seeks to suck, if he could draw
Poison from dead Matilda's ashy lips.
I will be sworn his very heart-string nips.
A vengeance on that slave, that cursed Brand!
I'll kill him, if I live, with this right hand.

OX. Thou canst not, Hubert; he hath kill'd himself--
But to our matter. Leicester, pray thee speak.
Young Bruce, for God's sake, let us know thy mind.

BRUCE. I would be loth to be a stranger's slave:
For England's love, I would no French king have.

LEI. Well, Oxford, if I be deceiv'd in John again,
It's 'long of you, Lord Hubert, and the queen.
Yield up the castle, Bruce: we'll once more try
King John's proceedings. Oxford, tell him so.

[OXFORD _goes to the_ KING, _does his duty,
and talks with him_.

BRUCE. I will come down. But first farewell, dear mother, [_Kiss her_.
Farewell, poor little George, my pretty brother!
Now will I shut my shambles in again:
Farewell, farewell! [_Closes the casement_.
In everlasting bliss your sweet souls dwell.

Ox. But you must mend, i' faith; in faith you must[380].

LEI. My lord, once more your subjects do submit,
Beseeching you to think how things have pass'