And if you be not secret in this matter,
You understand me there, too?
You understand me there, too?
Tennyson
FERIA. Sire, even so.
PHILIP. She will not have Prince Philibert of Savoy.
FERIA. No, sire.
PHILIP. I have to pray you, some odd time,
To sound the Princess carelessly on this;
Not as from me, but as your phantasy;
And tell me how she takes it.
FERIA. Sire, I will.
PHILIP. I am not certain but that Philibert
Shall be the man; and I shall urge his suit
Upon the Queen, because I am not certain:
You understand, Feria.
FERIA. Sire, I do.
PHILIP.
And if you be not secret in this matter,
You understand me there, too?
FERIA. Sire, I do.
PHILIP. You must be sweet and supple, like a Frenchman.
She is none of those who loathe the honeycomb.
[_Exit_ FERIA.
_Enter_ RENARD.
RENARD. My liege, I bring you goodly tidings.
PHILIP. Well?
RENARD. There _will_ be war with France, at last, my liege;
Sir Thomas Stafford, a bull-headed ass,
Sailing from France, with thirty Englishmen,
Hath taken Scarboro' Castle, north of York;
Proclaims himself protector, and affirms
The Queen has forfeited her right to reign
By marriage with an alien--other things
As idle; a weak Wyatt! Little doubt
This buzz will soon be silenced; but the Council
(I have talk'd with some already) are for war.
This the fifth conspiracy hatch'd in France;
They show their teeth upon it; and your Grace,
So you will take advice of mine, should stay
Yet for awhile, to shape and guide the event.