ELIZABETH. Your pardon, then; It is the heat and narrowness of the cage That makes the captive testy; with free wing The world were all one Araby. Leave me now, Will you, companion to myself, sir? BEDINGFIELD. Will I? With most exceeding willingness, I will; You know I never come till I be call'd. [_Exit_. ELIZABETH. It lies there folded: is there venom in it? A snake--and if I touch it, it may sting. Come, come, the worst! Best wisdom is to know the worst at once. [_Reads:_ 'It is the King's wish, that you should wed Prince Philibert of Savoy. You are to come to Court on the instant; and think of this in your coming. 'MARY THE QUEEN.' Think I have many thoughts; I think there may be birdlime here for me; I think they fain would have me from the realm; I think the Queen may never bear a child; I think that I may be some time the Queen, Then, Queen indeed: no foreign prince or priest Should fill my throne, myself upon the steps. I think I will not marry anyone, Specially not this landless Philibert Of Savoy; but, if Philip menace me, I think that I will play with Philibert, As once the Holy Father did with mine, Before my father married my good mother,-- For fear of Spain. _Enter_ LADY. LADY. O Lord! your Grace, your Grace, I feel so happy: it seems that we shall fly These bald, blank fields, and dance into the sun That shines on princes. ELIZABETH. Yet, a moment since, I wish'd myself the milkmaid singing here, To kiss and cuff among the birds and flowers-- A right rough life and healthful. LADY. But the wench Hath her own troubles; she is weeping now; For the wrong Robin took her at her word. Then the cow kick'd, and all her milk was spilt. Your Highness such a milkmaid? ELIZABETH. I had kept My Robins and my cows in sweeter order Had I been such. LADY (_slyly_). And had your Grace a Robin? ELIZABETH. Come, come, you are chill here; you want the sun That shines at court; make ready for the journey. Pray God, we 'scape the sunstroke. Ready at once. [_Exeunt_. SCENE VI.--LONDON. A ROOM IN THE PALACE. LORD PETRE _and_ LORD WILLIAM HOWARD. PETRE. You cannot see the Queen. Renard denied her, Ev'n now to me. HOWARD. Their Flemish go-between And all-in-all. I came to thank her Majesty For freeing my friend Bagenhall from the Tower; A grace to me! Mercy, that herb-of-grace, Flowers now but seldom. PETRE. Only now perhaps. Because the Queen hath been three days in tears For Philip's going--like the wild hedge-rose Of a soft winter, possible, not probable, However you have prov'n it. HOWARD. I must see her. _Enter_ RENARD. RENARD. My Lords, you cannot see her Majesty.