_Prince._ Sooth, now, my legs ache sadly! My heart is light and fresh though; and it mocks My legs for aching. I would I had your legs, And you my heart.--Your heart, I fear me, mother, Is heavier far than mine. _Marg._ Dost think so, Ned? _Prince._ Ay, and I know so too:--for I am in it. _Marg._ My dear, wronged child! _Prince._ Pr'ythee now, mother, do not grieve for me;-- I warrant I shall live to be a king, yet. _Marg._ Alas! poor monkey! thou hast little cause To be in love with greatness: thou hast felt Its miseries full early. _Prince._ Then, you know I've all its good to come. _Marg._ May Heaven grant it! For thou dost promise nobly, boy. This forest Will screen us from the hatred of our enemies. Here, till the rage of war has ceased around us, I will watch o'er thee, Ned; here guard thy life;-- Thy life! the hope, the care, the joy of mine! And when thy harrass'd limbs have gain'd their pliancy, We will resume our task: for I must lead thee A painful walk, across Northumberland, As far as Berwick, boy; where we may meet, Again, our Scottish friends. What sayest thou Ned, Shouldst joy to see thy father there? _Prince._ Ay, mother;-- And, though we know he has escaped the traitors, Were we but sure to find him there, I could Set out directly. _Marg._ Rest a day or two: For hadst thou strength, the danger that surrounds us Prevents our venturing.--Come!--on a little-- We will go look some moss-grown cavern out, And there thou shalt repose thee, sweet.-- _Enter GONDIBERT._ Come, boy! come, take my hand---- [_GONDIBERT approaches, with his Sword drawn._ _Gondi._ Advance no further. _Marg._ Ha! Who art thou, that comest, with murderous look, Here, in the dusky bosom of the wood, To intercept our passage? _Gondi._ One of those Who, stript of all, by an oppressing world, Now make reprisals: if my looks be dark, They best explain my purpose. _Prince._ Fly! fly! mother! The villain else, will kill us. _Marg._ Let us pass. Thou know'st us not; else would there so much terror Still strike thee of our person, that--no matter. What cause hast thou to stay me? _Gondi._ Biting want;-- An oath sworn to my fellows;--disappointment;-- Despair.--I came not here to parley, lady;----quickly, Yield what you have, or go where I command. _Marg._ Command! base slave! reduced to this!--Command, From thee? thou worm! [_Making majestically past him, with the PRINCE._ _Gondi._ Nay, nay; you fly not, lady. [_Holds his Sword, over them._ _Marg._ Oh, Heaven! my boy! strike not, on thy allegiance! Save him, I charge thee, fellow! Save my son;-- The son of thy anointed king. _Gondi._ My king! [_Drops his Sword at their Feet._ _Marg._ Ay, look, and tremble, slave.