No More Learning

She turns again.

[QUEEN _sits and writes, and goes again_.

LADY CLARENCE. What hath she written now?

ALICE. Nothing; but 'come, come, come,' and all awry,
And blotted by her tears. This cannot last.

[QUEEN _returns_.

MARY. I whistle to the bird has broken cage,
And all in vain. [_Sitting down_.
Calais gone--Guisnes gone, too--and Philip gone!

LADY CLARENCE. Dear Madam, Philip is but at the wars;
I cannot doubt but that he comes again;
And he is with you in a measure still.
I never look'd upon so fair a likeness
As your great King in armour there, his hand
Upon his helmet.
[_Pointing to the portrait of Philip on the wall_.

MARY. Doth he not look noble?
I had heard of him in battle over seas,
And I would have my warrior all in arms.
He said it was not courtly to stand helmeted
Before the Queen. He had his gracious moment,
Altho' you'll not believe me. How he smiles
As if he loved me yet!

LADY CLARENCE. And so he does.

MARY. He never loved me--nay, he could not love me.
It was his father's policy against France.
I am eleven years older than he,
Poor boy! [_Weeps_.

ALICE. That was a lusty boy of twenty-seven; [_Aside_.