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.