My brother Nigel! Happy and amazed I see you here. Why left you Aberdeen? Nigel. For several ends. And firstly, I have news. Bruce. Come to our cave. Nigel. No; for a reason, no. Bruce. Mysteries, secrets!--Well; retire good friends. [Soldiers go out. Nigel. Perhaps my news is stale. Bruce. Little I know Since in the flight from Methven, panic-struck, We parted company. Nigel. Learn then that Haye-- Hugh de la Haye; John is with you, I know-- Inchmartin, Fraser, Berclay, Somerville, Young Randolf, Wishart, trusty Lamberton Are captives. Bruce. Half my world! But is it true? Nigel. So much is certainty. Rumour declares Young Randolf has deserted us; that those I named will ransom; but that some, unknown, Have died the death of traitors. Bruce. Noble souls! Randolf--poor boy! What more? Nigel. A price Is on your head. Bruce. That matters not. Nigel. I know. Still, have great heed of whom and how you trust. That's all the evil tidings. Hear the good. The queen--Ah, this is she! I'll leave you now. [Goes out. Enter Isabella. Bruce. My dearest! Isabella. I couldn't wait, my husband. The Lady Douglas and the Lady Buchan Are in your cave. We rode from Aberdeen This evening, learning you were cantoned here. Douglas was sleeping when we came. His wife Bent o'er him, and she slipped into his dream; For when he waked he wondered not at all To see his lady there, till memory Aroused him quite to find the vision true. Nigel was seeking you; but when I saw The joy these two partook, incontinent I hurried out myself to find like cheer. My dear wayfaring hero, I have come To share your crust, and rags, and greenwood couch: I'm deep in love with skied pavilions: I'll be your shepherdess, Arcadian king. This evening's journey lay throughout a wood: The honeysuckle incensed all the air, And cushats cooed in every fragrant fir; Tall foxgloves nodded round the portly trees, Like ruffling pages in the trains of knights; Above the wood sometimes a green hill peered, As if dame Nature on her pillow turned And showed a naked shoulder; all the way, Whispering along, rose-bushes blushed like girls That pass blood-stirring secrets fearfully, Attending on a princess in her walk; I think with rarely scented breath they said A loving wife was speeding to her lord. Why are you silent? Bruce. I am thinking, dear, That I'm the richest monarch in the world. Possessing such a universe of love, The treasure most desired by kings and clowns. Isabella. What universe, dear lord? Bruce. Simplicity! You are my universe of love, you know. Isabella. Then keep your universe, and do not waste In empty space the time. I'll stay with you; Surely I can? Come, tell me all your plans. Bruce. I've none. What I desire I know; and think