Bacon. Could you not judge, when all your swords grew fast,
That Friar Bacon was not far from hence?
Edward, King Henry's son and Prince of Wales,
Thy fool disguis'd cannot conceal thyself:
I know both Ermsby and the Sussex Earl,
Else Friar Bacon had but little skill.
Thou com'st in post from merry Fressingfield,
Fast-fancied[193] to the Keeper's bonny lass,
To crave some succour of the jolly friar:
And Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, hast thou left,
To treat fair Margaret to allow thy loves;
But friends are men, and love can baffle lords;
The earl both woos and courts her for himself.
War. Ned, this is strange; the friar knoweth all.
Erms. Apollo could not utter more than this.
P. Edw. I stand amaz'd to hear this jolly friar,
Tell even the very secrets of my thoughts:—
But, learnèd Bacon, since thou know'st the cause
Why I did post so fast from Fressingfield,
Help, friar, at a pinch, that I may have
The love of lovely Margaret to myself,
And, as I am true Prince of Wales, I'll give
Living and lands to strength thy college state.
War. Good friar, help the prince in this.
Ralph. Why, servant Ned, will not the friar do it?—Were not my sword glued to my scabbard by conjuration, I would cut off his head, and make him do it by force.
Miles. In faith, my lord, your manhood and your sword is all alike; they are so fast conjured that we shall never see them.
Erms. What, doctor, in a dump! tush, help the prince,
And thou shalt see how liberal he will prove.
Bacon. Crave not such actions greater dumps than these?
I will, my lord, strain out my magic spells;
For this day comes the earl to Fressingfield,
And 'fore that night shuts in the day with dark,
They'll be betrothèd each to other fast.
But come with me; we'll to my study straight,
And in a glass prospective[194] I will show
What's done this day in merry Fressingfield.
P. Edw. Gramercies, Bacon; I will quite thy pain.
Bacon. But send your train, my lord, into the town:
My scholar shall go bring them to their inn;
Meanwhile we'll see the knavery of the earl.
P. Edw. Warren, leave me:—and, Ermsby, take the fool:
Let him be master and go revel it,
Till I and Friar Bacon talk awhile.
War. We will, my lord.
Ralph. Faith, Ned, and I'll lord it out till thou comest; I'll be Prince of Wales over all the black-pots[195] in Oxford. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.—Friar Bacon's Cell.
Friar Bacon and Prince Edward go into the study.[196]