FITZ. But this firm island, like the sea, will toss. And many goodly buildings go to wrack; Many a widow weep her dying son, And many a mother to her weeping babes Cry out uncomfortably, "Children, peace, Your crying unto me is all in vain, Dead is my husband, your poor father slain!" YOUNG B. We cannot help it, uncle. RICH. No, you see Entreats and humble suits have now no power, But lust and wrath the kingdom do devour. BRUCE. Me he did menace first, and much I fear He will to Guildford, and besiege my wife. FITZ. O, hie to save her! Richmond, ride with him. RICH. Let us away, Bruce, lest we come too late, And with us take some score of men well-arm'd. [_Exeunt_ RICHMOND _and_ BRUCE. FITZ. Do: Leicester and myself will keep the city, Till we are furnish'd with an able army. Your nephew Bruce shall take an hundred men,[320] And post to Hertford Castle with your sister. Sith wrong doth[321] wake us, we will keep such watch, As for his life he shall not hurt us bring. [_Exeunt omnes_. ACT III., SCENE I. _Enter_ QUEEN, BRUCE'S LADY, HUBERT, SALISBURY. QUEEN. Be comforted, good madam, do not fear, But give your son as pledge unto the king: Yourself at court may keep him company. LADY B. I am betray'd! alas, I am betray'd! And little thought your highness had been bent So much against me for my many loves, As to prepare an entrance for my foe. QUEEN. As I shall live in heaven, I did not know Of Hubert's coming. But lament not this: Your son, you say, is gone; what fear you then? LADY B. O madam, murder, mischief, wrongs of men I fear, I fear--what is't I do not fear, Sith hope is so far off, despair so near? SAL. Answer me, good Hubert, I pray thee, Hubert, do: What think you of this matter? may I on your word Persuade the woman that all things are well? HUB. You may persuade her if you can, my lord; For I protest I 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.