K. Lew.
Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,
Sit down with us; it ill befits thy State,
And Birth, that thou should'st stand, whiles Lewis sits.

Queen.
No, mighty King of France; now Margaret
Must strike her Sail, and learn a while to serve,
Where Kings command. I was, I must confess,
Great Albion's Queen, in former golden Days:
But now mischance hath trod my Title down,
And with dishonour laid me on the Ground,

Where I must take like seat unto my Fortune,
And to my humble seat confirm my self.

K. Lew.

Why say, fair Queen, whence springs this deep despair?

Queen.
From such a cause as fills mine Eyes with Tears,
And stops my Tongue, while Heart is drown'd in Cares.

K. Lew.
Whate'er it be, be thou still like thy self,
And sit thee by our side. [Seats her by him.
Yield not thy Neck to Fortune's yoak,
But let thy dauntless Mind still ride in triumph
Over all mischance.
Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy Grief,
It shall be eas'd, if France can yield relief.

Queen.
Those gracious Words revive my drooping Thoughts,
And give my Tongue-ty'd Sorrows leave to speak.
Now therefore be it known to Noble Lewis,
That Henry, sole possessor of my Love,
Is, of a King, become a banish'd Man.
And forc'd to live in Scotland a Forlorn;
While proud ambitious Edward, Duke of York.
Usurps the Regal Title, and the Seat
Of England's true anointed lawful King.
This is the cause that I, poor Margaret,
With this my Son Prince Edward, Henry's Heir,
Am come to crave thy just and lawful Aid:
And if thou fail us, all our hope is done.
Scotland hath Will to help, but cannot help:
Our People, and our Peers, are both miss-led,
Our Treasure seiz'd, our Soldiers put to flight,
And, as thou seest, our selves in heavy plight.

K. Lew.
Renowned Queen, with patience calm the Storm,
While we bethink a means to break it off.

Queen.
The more we stay, the stronger grows our Foe.

K. Lew.
The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee.

Queen.
O, but impatience waiteth on true Sorrow.
And see where comes the breeder of my Sorrow. Enter Warwick.

K. Lew.
What's he approacheth boldly to our presence?

Queen.
Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest Friend.

K. Lew.

Welcome, brave Warwick, what brings thee to France?

Queen.
Ay, now begins a second Storm to rise,
For this is he that moves both Wind and Tide.

War.
From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
My Lord and Sovereign, and thy vowed Friend,
I come (in Kindness and unfeigned Love)
First to do greetings to thy Royal Person,
And then to crave a League of Amity;
And lastly, to confirm that Amity
With Nuptial Knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant
That vertuous Lady Bona, thy fair Sister,
To England's King in lawful Marriage.

Queen.
If that go forward, Henry's hope is done.

War.
And gracious Madam, [Speaking to Bona.
In our King's behalf,
I am commanded, with your leave and favour,
Humbly to kiss your Hand, and with my Tongue
To tell the passion of my Sovereign's Heart;
Where Fame, late entring at his heedful Ears,
Hath plac'd thy Beauty's Image, and thy Virtue.

Queen.
King Lewis, and Lady Bona, hear me speak,
Before you answer Warwick. His demand
Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest Love,
But from Deceit, bred by Necessity:
For how can Tyrants fafely govern home,
Unless Abroad they purchace great Alliance?
To prove him Tyrant, this reason may suffice,
That Henry liveth still; but were he dead,
Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's Son.
Look therefore Lewis, that by this League and Marriage
Thou draw not on thy Danger and Dishonour:
For though Usurpers sway the Rule a while,
Yet Heavens are just, and Time suppresseth Wrongs.

War.
Injurious Margaret.

Prince.
And why not Queen?

War.
Because thy Father Henry did usurp,
And thou no more art Prince than she is Queen.

Oxf.
Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,
Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain;
And after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
Whose Wisdom was a Mirror to the wisest;
And after that wise Prince, Henry the Fifth,

Who by his Prowess conquered all France:
From these our Henry lineally descends.

War.
Oxford, how haps it in this smooth Discourse,
You told not, how Henry the Sixth hath lost
All that, which Henry the Fifth had gotten;
Methinks these Peers of France should smile at that.
But for the rest; you tell a Pedigree
Of threescore and two Years, a silly time
To make prescription for a Kingdom's worth.

Oxf.
Why Warwick, canst thou speak against my Liege
Whom thou obey'dst thirty and six Years,
And not bewray thy Treason with a blush?

War.
Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
Now buckler falshood with a Pedigree?
For shame leave Henry, and call Edward King.

Oxf.
Call him my King, by whose injurious doom
My elder Brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere
Was done to Death? and more than so, my Father,
Even in the downfall of his mellow'd Years,
When Nature brought him to the door of Death?
No Warwick, no; while Life upholds this Arm,
This Arm upholds the House of Lancaster.

War.
And I the House of York.

K. Lew.
Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford
Vouchsafe at our request, to stand aside,
While I use farther Conference with Warwick. [They stand aloof.

Queen.

Heavens grant that Warwick's Words bewitch him not.

K. Lew.
Now Warwick, tell me even upon thy Conscience,
Is Edward your true King? for I were loath
To link with him that were not lawful chosen.

War.
Thereon I pawn my Credit, and mine Honour.

K. Lew.
But is he gracious in the Peoples Eyes?

War.
The more, that Henry was unfortunate.

K. Lew.
Then further; all dissembling set aside,
Tell me for truth, the measure of his love
Unto our Sister Bona.

War.
Such it seems,
As may beseem a Monarch like himself:
My self have often heard him say and swear,

That this his Love was an external Plant,
Whereof the Root was fix'd in Virtue's ground,
The Leaves and Fruit maintain'd with Beauty's Sun,
Exempt from Envy, but not from Disdain,
Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.

K. Lew.
Now Sister, let us hear your firm resolve.

Bona.
Your grant, or your denial, shall be mine.
Yet I confess, that often e'er this Day, [Speaks to Warwick.
When I have heard your King's desert recounted,
Mine Ear hath tempted Judgment to desire.

K. Lew.
Then Warwick, this:
Our Sister shall be Edward's.
And now forthwith shall Articles be drawn,
Touching the Jointure that your King must make,
Which with her Dowry shall be counterpois'd:
Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness,
That Bona shall be Wife to th' English King.

Prince.
To Edward, but not to the English King.

Queen.
Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device,
By this Alliance to make void my Suit;
Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's Friend.

K. Lew.
And still is Friend to him and Margaret;
But if your Title to the Crown be weak,
As may appear by Edward's good Success;
Then 'tis but reason that I be releas'd
From giving Aid, which late I promised.
Yet shall you have all kindness at my Hand,
That your Estate requires, and mine can yield.

War.
Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease,
Where having nothing, nothing can he lose.
And as for you your self, our quondam Queen,
You have a Father able to maintain you,
And better it were you troubled him, than France.

Queen.
Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, peace,
Proud setter up, and puller down of Kings,
I will not hence, 'till with my Talk and Tears
(Both full of Truth) I make King Lewis behold
Thy sly Conveyance, and thy Lord's false Love. [Post blowing a Horn within.
For both of you are Birds of self same Feather.

K. Lew.
Warwick, this is some Post to us, or thee. Enter a Post.

Post.
My Lord Ambassador,
These Letters are for you; [To Warwick.
Sent from your Brother, Marquess Montague.
These from our King unto your Majesty. [To K. Lew.
And Madam, these for you, [To the Queen.
From whom I know not. [They all read their Letters.

Oxf.
I like it well, that our fair Queen and Mistress
Smiles at her News, while Warwick frowns at his.

Prince.
Nay, mark how Lewis stamps as he were nettled.
I hope all's for the best.

K. Lew.
Warwick, what are thy News?
And yours, fair Queen?

Queen.
Mine such as fills my Heart with unhop'd Joys.

War.
Mine full of Sorrow, and Heart's Discontent.

K. Lew.
What! has your King Married the Lady Gray?
And now, to sooth your Forgery and his,
Sends me a Paper to perswade me Patience?
Is this Alliance that he seeks with France?
Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?

Queen.
I told your Majesty as much before:
This proveth Edward's Love, and Warwick's Honesty.

War.
King Lewis, I here protest in sight of Heaven,
And by the hope I have of Heav'nly Bliss,
That I am clear from this Misdeed of Edward's;
No more my King; for he dishonours me,
But most himself, if he could see his Shame.
Did I forget, that by the House of York
My Father came untimely to his Death?
Did I let pass th' abuse done to my Niece?
Did I impale him with the Regal Crown?
Did I put Henry from his Native Right?
And am I guerdon'd at the last with Shame?
Shame on himself, for my Desert is Honour.
And to repair my Honour lost for him,
I here renounce him, and return to Henry.
My Noble Queen, let former grudges pass,
And henceforth I am thy true Servitor:
I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
And replant Henry in his former state.

Queen.
Warwick,
These Words have turn'd my Hate to Love,
And I forgive, and quite forget old Faults,
And joy that thou becom'st King Henry's Friend.

War.
So much his Friend, ay, his unfeigned Friend,
That if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us
With some few Bands of chosen Soldiers,
I'll undertake to Land them on our Coast,
And force the Tyrant from his Seat by War.
'Tis not his new-made Bride shall succour him:
And as for Clarence, as my Letters tell me,
He's very likely now to fall from him,
For matching more for wanton Lust than Honour,
Or than for strength and safety of our Country.

Bona.
Dear Brother, how shall Bona be reveng'd,
But by thy help to this distressed Queen?

Queen.
Renowned Prince, how shall poor Henry live,
Unless thou rescue him from foul despair?

Bona.
My quarrel, and this English Queen's are one.

War.
And mine, fair Lady Bona, joins with yours.

K. Lew.
And mine, with hers, and thine, and Margaret's.
Therefore at last, I firmly am resolv'd
You shall have Aid.

Queen.
Let me give humble thanks for all at once.

K. Lew.
Then England's Messenger, return in Post,
And tell false Edward, thy supposed King,
That Lewis of France, is sending over Maskers
To revel it with him, and his new Bride.
Thou seest what's past, go fear thy King withal.

Bona.
Tell him, in hopes he'll prove a Widower shortly,
I wear the Willow Garland for his sake.

Queen.
Tell him, my mourning weeds are laid aside,
And I am ready to put Armor on.

War.
Tell him from me, that he hath done me wrong,
And therefore I'll Uncrown him e'er't be long.
There's thy Reward, be gone. [Exit Post.

K. Lew.
But Warwick,
Thou and Oxford, with five thousand Men
Shall cross the Seas, and bid false Edward Battel:
And as occasion serves, this Noble Queen
And Prince shall follow with a fresh Supply,

Yet e'er thou go, but answer me one doubt:
What Pledge have we of thy firm Loyalty?

War.
This shall assure my constant Loyalty,
That if our Queen and this young Prince agree,
I'll join my eldest Daughter, and my Joy,
To him forthwith, in holy Wedlock Bands.

Queen.
Yes, I agree, and thank you for your Motion.
Son Edward, she is Fair and Virtuous,
Therefore delay not, give thy Hand to Warwick,
And with thy Hand, thy Faith irrevocable,
That only Warwick's Daughter shall be thine.

Prince.
Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it,
And here to pledge my Vow, I give my Hand. [He gives his Hand to Warwick.

K. Lew.
Why stay we now? these Soldiers shall be levy'd,
And thou Lord Bourbon, our High Admiral,
Shalt wast them over with our Royal Fleet.
I long 'till Edward fall by War's Mischance,
For mocking Marriage with a Dame of France. [Exeunt. Manet Warwick.

War.
I came from Edward as Ambassador,
But I return his sworn and mortal Foe:
Matters of Marriage was the charge he gave me,
But dreadful War shall answer his demand.
Had he none else to make a stale but me?
Then none but I, shall turn his Jest to Sorrow.
I was the Chief that rais'd him to the Crown,
And I'll be chief to bring him down again:
Not that I pity Henry's Misery,
But seek Revenge on Edward's Mockery. [Exit.

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