SCENE II
Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;
Some airy devil hovers in the sky
And pours down mischief. Austria’s head lie there,
While Philip breathes.
Hubert, keep this boy. Philip, make up:
My mother is assailed in our tent,
And ta’en, I fear.
My lord, I rescued her; |
But on, my liege; for very little pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.