Suf.
Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. [Gazes on her.
Oh, fairest beauty, do not fear, nor fly;
For I will touch thee but with reverend hands.
I kiss these fingers for eternal peace,
And lay them gently on thy tender side.
Who art thou? say; that I may honour thee.

Mar.
Margaret, my name; and daughter to a King;
The King of Naples; whosoe'er thou art.

Suf.
An Earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd.
Be not offended, Nature's miracle,
Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me;
So doth the Swan her downy cignets save,
Keeping them pris'ners underneath her wings.
Yet if this servile usage once offend,
Go and be free again, as Suffolk's friend. [She is going.
Oh, stay!—I have no pow'r to let her pass;
My hand would free her, but my heart says, no.
^{2 note}As plays the sun upon the glassy streams,

Twinkling another counterfeited beam,
So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes.
Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak;
I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind.
Fy, De la Pole, ^{3 note}disable not thyself;
Hast not a tongue? is she not here thy pris'ner?
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight?
Ay; beauty's princely Majesty is such,
Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough.

Mar.
Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so,
What ransom must I pay before I pass?
For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner.

Suf.
How can'st thou tell she will deny thy suit,
Before thou make a trial of her love? [Aside.

Mar.
Why speak'st thou not? what ransom must I pay?

Suf.
She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore to be won. [Aside.

Mar.
Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea, or no?

Suf.
Fond man! remember, that thou hast a wife;
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? [Aside.

Mar.
'Twere best to leave him, for he will not hear.

Suf.
There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card.

Mar.
He talks at random; sure, the man is mad.

Suf.
And yet a dispensation may be had.

Mar.
And yet I would, that you would answer me.

Suf.
I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom?
Why, for my King. Tush, that's a wooden thing.

Mar.
He talks of wood: it is some carpenter.

Suf.
Yet so my fancy may be satisfy'd,
And Peace established between these realms.
But there remains a scruple in that too,

For though her father be the King of Naples,
Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet he is poor;
And our Nobility will scorn the match. [Aside.

Mar.
Hear ye me, Captain? Are ye not at leisure?

Suf.
It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much.
Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.
Madam, I have a secret to reveal.

Mar.
What tho' I be inthrall'd, he seems a Knight,
And will not any way dishonour me. [Aside.

Suf.
Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.

Mar.
Perhaps, I shall be rescu'd by the French;
And then I need not crave his courtesy. [Aside.

Suf.
Sweet Madam, give me hearing in a cause.

Mar.
Tush, women have been captivate ere now. [Aside.

Suf.
Lady, wherefore talk you so?

Mar.
I cry you mercy, 'tis but Quid for Quo.

Suf.
Say, gentle Princess, would you not suppose
Your bondage happy, to be made a Queen?

Mar.
To be a Queen in Bondage, is more vile
Than is a slave in base servility;
For Princes should be free.

Suf.
And so shall you,
If happy England's royal King be free.

Mar.
Why, what concerns his freedom unto me?

Suf.
I'll undertake to make thee Henry's Queen,
To put a golden Scepter in thy hand,
And set a precious Crown upon thy head,
If thou wilt condescend to be my—

Mar.
What?

Suf.
His love.

Mar.
I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.

Suf.
No, gentle Madam; I unworthy am
To woo so fair a dame to be his wife;
And have no portion in the choice myself.
How say you, Madam, are you so content,

Mar.
An if my father please, I am content.

Suf.
Then call our Captains and our colours forth.

And, Madam, at your father's castle-walls,
We'll crave a parly to confer with him. Sound. Enter Reignier on the walls.

Suf.
See, Reignier, see thy daughter prisoner.

Reig.
To whom?

Suf.
To me.

Reig.
Suffolk, what remedy?
I am a soldier, and unapt to weep,
Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.

Suf.
Yes, there is remedy enough, my Lord.
Consent, and for thy honour give consent,
Thy daughter shall be wedded to my King;
Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto;
And this her easy-held imprisonment
Hath gain'd thy daughter princely liberty.

Reig.
Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?

Suf.
Fair Margaret knows,
That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.

Reig.
Upon thy princely warrant I descend;
To give thee answer of thy just demand.

Suf.
And here I will expect thy coming. Trumpets sound. Enter Reignier.

Reig.
Welcome, brave Earl, into our territories;
Command in Anjou, what your Honour pleases.

Suf.
Thanks, Reignier, happy in so sweet a child,
Fit to be made companion of a King.
What answer makes your Grace unto my suit?

Reig.
Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth,
To be the Princely bride of such a Lord;
Upon condition I may quietly
Enjoy mine own, the country Maine and Anjou,
Free from oppression or the stroke of war,
My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.

Suf.
That is her ransom, I deliver her;
And those two counties, I will undertake,
Your Grace shall well and quietly enjoy.

Reig.
And I again in Henry's Royal name,
As Deputy unto that gracious King,
Give thee her hand for sign of plighted faith.

Suf.
Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks,
Because this is in traffick of a King.
And yet, methinks, I could be well content
To be mine own Attorney in this case. [Aside.
I'll over then to England with this News,
And make this marriage to be solemniz'd.
So farewel, Reignier; set this diamond safe
In golden Palaces, as it becomes.

Reig.
I do embrace thee, as I would embrace
The Christian Prince King Henry, were he here.

Mar.
Farewel, my Lord. Good wishes, praise and pray'rs
Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [She is going.

Suf.
Farewel, sweet Madam; hark you, Margaret;
No princely commendations to my King?

Mar.
Such commendations as become a maid,
A virgin and his servant, say to him.

Suf.
Words sweetly plac'd, and modestly directed.
But, Madam, I must trouble you again,
No loving token to his Majesty?

Mar.
Yes, my good Lord, a pure unspotted heart,
Never yet taint with love, I send the King.

Suf.
And this withal. [Kisses her.

Mar.
That for thyself.—I will not so presume
^{4 note}To send such peevish tokens to a King.

Suf.
O, wert thou for myself!—but, Suffolk, stay;
Thou may'st not wander in that labyrinth;
There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk.
Sollicit Henry with her wond'rous praise,
Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,
Her nat'ral graces that extinguish art;
Repeat their semblance often on the seas;

That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet,
Thou may'st bereave him of his wits with wonder. [Exeunt.

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