_Post._ It grieves me, damsel; but the earl is forc'd To love the lady by the king's command. _Mar._ The wealth combin'd within the English shelves,[221] Europe's commander, nor the English king, Should not have mov'd the love of Peggy from her lord. _Post._ What answer shall I return to my lord? _Mar._ First, for thou cam'st from Lacy whom I lov'd,-- Ah, give me leave to sigh at every thought!-- Take thou, my friend, the hundred pound he sent; For Margaret's resolution craves no dower: The world shall be to her as vanity; Wealth, trash; love, hate; pleasure, despair: For I will straight to stately Framlingham, And in the abbey there be shorn a nun, And yield my loves and liberty to God. Fellow, I give thee this, not for the news, For those be hateful unto Margaret, But for thou'rt Lacy's man, once Margaret's love. _Post._ What I have heard, what passions I have seen, I'll make report of them unto the earl. _Mar._ Say that she joys his fancies be at rest. And prays that his misfortune may be hers. [_Exeunt._ ACT THE FOURTH SCENE I.--FRIAR BACON'S _Cell_. FRIAR BACON _draws the curtains and is discovered, lying on a bed,_[222] _with a white stick in one hand, a book in the other, and a lamp lighted beside him; and the_ Brazen Head, _and_ MILES _with weapons by him._ _Bacon._ Miles, where are you? _Miles._ Here, sir. _Bacon._ How chance you tarry so long? _Miles._ Think you that the watching of the Brazen Head craves no furniture? I warrant you, sir, I have so armed myself that if all your devils come, I will not fear them an inch.