Kin.
Have you perus'd the letters from the pope,
The emperor, and the earl of Armagnac?

Glo.
I have, my lord; and their intent is this,—
They humbly sue unto your excellence,
To have a godly peace concluded of,
Between the realms of England and of France.

Kin.
How doth your grace affect their motion?

Glo.
Well, my good lord; and as the only means
To stop effusion of our christian blood,
And 'stablish quietness on every side.

Kin.
Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought,
It was both impious and unnatural,
That such immanity and bloody strife
Should reign among professors of one faith.

Glo.
Beside, my lord,—the sooner to effect,
And surer bind, this knot of amity,—
The earl of Armagnac—near knit to Charles,
A man of great authority in France,—
Proffers his only daughter to your grace
In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.

Kin.
Marriage, good uncle! alas, my years are young;
And fitter is my study and my books,
Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
Yet, call the embassadors; and, as you please,
So let them have their answers every one:
I shall be well content with any choice,

Tends to God's glory, and my ^note country's weal. Enter a Legate, and two Embassadors; usher'd; Winchester with them, habited as a Cardinal.

&clquo;Exe.
&clquo;What! is my lord of Winchester install'd,&crquo;
&clquo;And call'd unto a cardinal's degree!&crquo;
&clquo;Then, I perceive, that will be verify'd,&crquo;
&clquo;Henry the fifth did some time prophesy,&crquo;—
&clquo;If once he come to be a cardinal,&crquo;
&clquo;He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.&crquo;

Kin.
My lords embassadors, your several suits
Have been consider'd and debated on.
Your purpose is both good and reasonable:
And, therefore, we are certainly resolv'd
To draw conditions of a friendly peace;
Which, by my lord of ^note Winchester, we mean
Shall be transported presently to France.

Glo.
And for the proffer of my lord your master,—
I have inform'd his highness so at large,
As—liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
Her beauty, and the value of her dower—
He doth intend she shall be England's queen.

Kin.
In argument and proof of which contráct,
Bear her this &dagger2; jewel, [to the Emb.] pledge of my affection.—
And so, my lord protector, see them guarded,
And safely brought to Dover; where, inship'd ^note,
Commit them to the fortune of the sea. [Exeunt Kin. Glo. Exe. &c. Embassadors follow.

Win.
Stay, my lord legate; you shall first receive
The sum of money, which I promised
Should be deliver'd to his holiness
For cloathing me in these grave ornaments.

Leg.
I will attend upon your lordship's leisure.

Win.
Now Winchester will not submit, I trow,
Or be inferior to the proudest peer.
Humphry of Gloster, thou shalt well perceive,
That, nor in birth,14Q0790 nor for ^note authority,
The bishop will not be o'er-born by thee:
I'll either make thee stoop, and bend thy knee,
Or sack this country with a mutiny. [Exeunt. SCENE II. France. Plains in Anjou. Enter Pucelle, Charles, Burgundy, Alenson, and Forces, marching.

Cha.
These news, my lords, may chear our droop ^note-spirits:
'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt,
And turn ^note again unto the warlike French.

Ale.
Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France,
And keep not back your powers ^note in dalliance.

Puc.
Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us;
Else, ruin combat with their palaces! Enter a Messenger.

Mes.
Success unto our valiant general,
And happiness to his accomplices!

Cha.
What tidings send our scouts? I pr'ythee, speak.

Mes.
The English army, that divided was
Into two parts ^note, is now conjoin'd in one;
And means to give you battle presently.

Cha.
Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is;
But we will presently provide for them.

Bur.
I trust, the ghost of Talbot is not there;
Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.

Puc.
Of all base passions, fear is most accurs'd:—
Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine;

Let Henry fret, and all the word repine.

Cha.
Then on, my lords; And France be fortunate! [Exeunt, marching. SCENE III. The same. Under Angiers. Alarums, as of a Battle join'd. Excursions. Enter Pucelle, hastily.

Puc.
The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly.—
Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts;
And ye choice spirits, that admonish me
And give me signs of future accidents! [She performs certain Ceremonies. Thunder heard.
You speedy helpers, that are substitutes
Under the lordly monarch of the north,
Appear, and aid me in this enterprize. [Thunder again. Enter certain Fiends.
This speedy quick ^note appearance argues proof
Of your accustom'd diligence to me.
Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cull'd
Out of the powerful regions ^note under earth,
Help me this once, that France may get the field. [they walk sullenly about her.
O, hold me not with silence over-long!
Where I was wont to feed you with my blood,
I'll lop a member off, and give it you,
In earnest of a further benefit;
So you do condescend to help me now.— [they hang their Heads.
No hope to have redress?—My body shall
Pay recompence, if you will grant my suit. [they shake their Heads.
Cannot my body, nor blood-sacrifice,

Entreat you to your wonted furtherance?
Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all,
Before that England give the French the foil. [Thunder; and they depart.
See! they forsake me. Now the time is come,
That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest,
And let her head fall into England's lap.
My antient incantations are too weak,
And hell too strong for me to buckle with:—
Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. [Exit. Other Alarums. Enter French and English, fighting; York and Pucelle heading them: French fly, leaving Pucelle.

Yor.
Damsel of France, I think I have you fast: [laying Hands on her.
Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms,
And try if they can gain your liberty.—
A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace!
See, how the ugly witch doth bend her brows,
As if, with Circe, she would change my shape.

Puc.
Chang'd to a worser shape thou canst not be.

Yor.
O, Charles the dauphin is a proper man;
No shape but his can please your dainty eye.

Puc.
A plaguing mischief light on Charles, and thee!
And may ye both be suddenly surpriz'd
By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!

Yor.
Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue.

Puc.
I pr'ythee, give me leave to curse a while.

Yor.
Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. [Exeunt, with Pucelle, Other short Alarums. Enter Suffolk, bringing in Margaret.

Suf.
Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. [gazes earnestly on her.
O fairest beauty, do not fear, nor fly;
For I will touch thee but with reverent hands,
And lay them14Q0791 gently on thy tender side.
I kiss these fingers [kissing her Hand.] for eternal peace:
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 ^note 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 ^note save,
Keeping them prisoners ^note underneath her wings.
Yet, if this servile usage once offend,
Go, and be free again, as Suffolk's friend. [she turns from him, as going.
O, stay!—I have no power to let her pass;
My hand would free her, but my heart says—no.
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:
Fie, De-la-poole! disable not thyself;
Hast not a tongue? is she not here thy prisoner ^note?
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight?
Ay; beauty's princely majesty is such,
Confounds the tongue, and make the senses crouch. ^note

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 canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit,
Before thou make a trial of her love?

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

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

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?

Mar.
I were best leave ^{note note} him, for he will not hear.

Suf.
There all is mar'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 Anjóu and Maine, yet is he poor,
And our nobility will scorn the match.

Mar.
Hear ye me, captain; Are you 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 though I be enthral'd? he seems a knight,
And will not any way dishonour me.

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.

Suf.
Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause—

Mar.
Tush! women have been captivate ere now.

Suf.
Nay, hear me, 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:— [to his Troops; who come forward.
And, madam, at your father's castle walls
We'll crave a parley, to confer with him.— Trumpet sounds a Parley: Is answer'd from within: and, Enter Reignier, upon the Walls.
See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner.

Rei.
To whom?

Suf.
To me.

Rei.
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.

Rei.
Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?

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

Rei.
Upon thy princely warrant, I descend,
To give thee answer of thy just demand. [Exit, from the Walls.

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

Rei.
Welcome, brave earl, into our territories;
Command in Anjou what your honour pleases.

Suf.
Thanks, Reignier, happy for so ^note sweet a child,
Fit to be made companion with a king:
What answer makes your grace unto my suit?

Rei.
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 countries ^note 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 countries ^note, I will undertake,
Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.

Rei.
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.
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.

Rei.
I do embrace † thee, as I would embrace
The christian prince, king Henry, were he here.

Mar.
Farewel, my lord! good wishes, praise, and prayers,
Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [going.

Suf.
Farewel, sweet madam! But hark you, Margaret; [calling her back.
No princely commendations to my king?

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

Suf.
Words sweetly plac'd, and modestly ^note 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,
To send such peevish tokens to a king. [Exeunt Reignier, and Margaret.

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 wondrous praise:
Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,
And natural ^{note note} 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. [Exit. SCENE IV. Camp of the Duke of York, in Anjou. Enter York, Warwick, and Others.

Yor.
Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to burn. Enter Pucelle, guarded; Shepherd, her Father, with her.

She.
Ah, Joan, this kills thy father's heart outright!
Have I sought every country far and near,
And, now it is my chance to find thee out,
Must I behold thy timeless cruel death?
Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll ^note die with thee!

Puc.
Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch!
I am descended of a gentler blood;
Thou art no father, nor no friend, of mine.

She.
Out, out!—My lords, an please you, 'tis not so;
I did beget her, all the parish knows:
Her mother liveth yet, can testify
She was the first-fruit ^note of my batchelorship.

War.
Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage?

Yor.
This argues what her kind of life hath been;
Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes.

She.
Fie, Joan! that thou wilt be so obstacle!
God knows, thou art a collop of my flesh;
And for thy sake have I shed many a tear:
Deny me not, I pr'ythee, gentle Joan.

Puc.
Peasant, avant!—You have suborn'd this man,

Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.

She.
'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest,
The morn that I was wedded to her mother.—
Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl.
Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time
Of thy nativity! I would, the milk
Thy mother gave thee, when thou suck'dst ^note her breast,
Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake!
Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield,
I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee!
Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?
O, burn her, burn her; hanging is too good. [Exit Shepherd.

Yor.
Take her away; for she hath liv'd too long,
To fill the world with vicious qualities.

Puc.
First, let me tell you whom you have condemn'd:
Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
But issu'd from the progeny of kings;
Virtuous, and holy; chosen from above,
By inspiration of celestial grace,
To work exceeding miracles on earth.
I never had to do with wicked spirits:
But you,—that are polluted with your lusts,
Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,—
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it straight a thing impossible
To compass wonders, but by help of devils:
No, misconceivers;14Q0792 Joan of Arc ^note hath been
A virgin from her tender infancy,
Chast and immaculate in very thought;
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd,

Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.

Yor.
Ay, ay;—away with her to execution.

War.
And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
Spare for no faggots, let there be enough:
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
That so her torture may be shortened.

Puc.
Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?—
Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity;
That warranteth by law to be thy priviledge.—
I am with child, ye bloody homicides:
Murther not then the fruit within my womb,
Although ye hale me to a violent death.

Yor.
Now heaven forefend! the holy maid with child?

War.
The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought:
Is all your strict preciseness come to this?

Yor.
She and the dauphin have been juggling:
I did imagine what would be her refuge.

War.
Well, well, go to; we'll ^note have no bastards live;
Especially, since Charles must father it.

Puc.
You are deceiv'd; my child is none of his;
It was Alenson, that enjoy'd my love.

Yor.
Alenson! that notorious Machiavel!
It dies, an if it had a thousand lives.

Puc.
O, give me leave, I have deluded you;
'Twas neither Charles, nor yet the duke I nam'd,
But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail'd.

War.
A marry'd man! that's most intolerable.

Yor.
Why, here's a girl! I think, she knows not well,
There were so many, whom she may accuse.

War.
It's sign, she hath been ^note liberal and free.

Yor.
And, yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure.—
Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat, and thee:

Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.

Puc.
Then lead me hence;—with whom I leave my curse:
May never glorious sun reflex ^note his beams
Upon the country where you make abode!
But darkness, and the gloomy shade of death
Environ you; 'till mischief, and despair,
Drive you to break your necks, or hang yourselves! [Exit, guarded.

Yor.
Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes,
You foul accursed minister of hell! Enter Cardinal Beaufort, attended.

Car.
Lord regent, I do greet your excellence
With letters of commission from the king.
For know, my lords, the states of christendom,
Mov'd with remorse of these outrageous broils,
Have earnestly implor'd a general peace
Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
And here at hand the dauphin, and his train,
Approacheth, to confer about some matters ^note.

Yor.
Is all our travel turn'd to this effect?
After the slaughter of so many peers,
So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers,
That in this quarrel have been overthrown,
And sold their bodies for their country's benefit,
Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace?
Have we not lost most part of all the towns,
By treason, falshood, and by treachery,
Our great progenitors had conquered?—
O, Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief
The utter loss of all the realm of France.

War.
Be patient, York; if we conclude a peace,
It shall be with such strict and severe covenants,

As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby. Enter Charles, attended; Reignier, Alenson, and Others.

Cha.
Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed,
That peaceful truce shall be proclaim'd in France,
I come to be informed by yourselves
What the conditions of that league must be.

Yor.
Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler choaks
The hollow passage of my prison'd ^note voice,
By sight of these our baleful enemies.

Car.
Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
That—in regard king Henry gives consent,
Of meer compassion, and of lenity,
To ease your country of distressful war,
And suffer you to breath in fruitful peace,—
You shall become true liegemen to his crown:
And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear
To pay him tribute, and submit thyself,
Thou shalt be plac'd as vice-roy under him,
And still enjoy thy regal dignity.

Ale.
Must he be then as shadow of himself?
Adorn his temples with a coronet;
And yet, in substance and authority,
Retain but priviledge of a private man?
This proffer is absurd and reasonless.

Cha.
'Tis known, already that I am possess'd
Of more ^note than half the Gallian territories,
And therein reverenc'd for their lawful king:
Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish'd,
Detract so much from that prerogative,
As to be call'd but vice-roy of the whole?
No, lord embassador; I'll rather keep

That which I have, than, coveting for more,
Be cast from possibility of all.

Yor.
Insulting Charles! hast thou by secret means
Us'd intercession to obtain a league;
And, now the matter grows to compromise,
Stand'st thou aloof upon comparison?
Either accept the title thou usurp'st,
Of benefit proceeding from our king,
And not of any challenge of desert,
Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.

&clquo;Rei.
&clquo;My lord [to Cha.] you do not well, in obstinacy&crquo;
&clquo;To cavil in the course of this contráct:&crquo;
&clquo;If once it be neglected, ten to one,&crquo;
&clquo;We shall not find like opportunity.&crquo;

&clquo;Ale.
&clquo;To say the truth, it is your policy,&crquo;
&clquo;To save your subjects from such massacre,&crquo;
&clquo;And ruthless slaughters, as are daily seen&crquo;
&clquo;By our proceeding in hostility:&crquo;
&clquo;And therefore take this compact of a truce,&crquo;
&clquo;Although you break it when your pleasure serves.&crquo;

War.
How say'st thou, Charles? shall our condition stand?

Cha.
It shall: only reserv'd, you claim no interest
In any of our towns of garrison.

Yor.
Then swear allegiance to his majesty;
As thou art knight, never to disobey,
Nor be rebellious to the crown of England,
Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.
So, now dismiss your army when ye please;
Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still,
For here we entertain a solemn peace. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. London. A Room in the Palace. Enter King Henry, and Suffolk, conferring; Gloster, and Exeter, after them.

Kin.
Your wondrous rare description, noble earl,
Of beauteous Margaret hath astonish'd me:
Her virtues, graced with external gifts,
Do breed love's settl'd passions in my heart:
And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts
Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide;
So am I driven, by breath of her renown,
Either to suffer shipwreck, or arrive
Where I may have fruition of her love.

Suf.
Tush, my good lord! this superficial tale
Is but a preface of her worthy praise:
The chief perfections of that lovely dame
(Had I sufficient skill to utter them)
Would make a volume of enticing lines,
Able to ravish any dull conceit.
And, which is more, she is not so divine,
So full replete with choice of all delights,
But, with as humble lowliness of mind,
She is content to be at your command;
Command, I mean, of virtuous chast intents,
To love and honour Henry as her lord.

Kin.
And otherwise will Henry ne'er presume:—
Therefore, my lord protector, give consent,
That Margaret may be England's royal queen.

Glo.
So should I give consent to flatter sin.
You know, my lord, your highness is betroth'd
Unto another lady of esteem;
How shall we then dispense with that contráct,
And not deface your honour with reproach?

Suf.
As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths;
Or one, that, at a triumph having vow'd
To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists
By reason of his adversary's odds:
A poor earl's daughter is unequal odds,
And therefore may be broke without offence.

Glo.
Why, what (I pray) is Margaret more than that?
Her father is no better than an earl,
Although in glorious titles he excel.

Suf.
Yes, my good lord, her father is a king,
The king of Naples, and Jerusalem;
And of such great authority in France,
As his alliance will confirm our peace,
And keep the Frenchmen in allegiance.

Glo.
And so the earl of Armagnac may do,
Because he is near kinsman unto Charles.

Exe.
Beside, his wealth doth warrant liberal ^note dower;
Where Reignier sooner will receive, than give.

Suf.
A dower, my lords! disgrace not so your king,
That he should be so abject, base, and poor,
To choose for wealth, and not for perfect love.
Henry is able to enrich his queen,
And not to seek a queen to make him rich:
So worthless peasants bargain for their wives,
As market-men for oxen, sheep, or horse.
But ^note marriage is a matter of more worth,
Than to be dealt in by attorneyship;
Not whom we will, but whom his grace affects,
Must be companion of his nuptial bed:
And therefore, lords, since he affects her most,
It most of all these reasons bindeth us,
In our opinions she should be prefer'd.

For what is wedlock forced, but a hell,
An age of discord and continual strife?
Whereas the contrary bringeth forth ^note bliss,
And is a pattern of celestial peace.
Whom should we match with Henry, being a king,
But Margaret, that is daughter to a king?
Her peerless feature, joined with her birth,
Approves her fit for none, but for a king:
Her valiant courage, and undaunted spirit,
(More than in women commonly is seen) will
Answer our hope in issue of a king;
For Henry, son unto a conqueror,
Is likely to beget more conquerors,
If with a lady of so high resolve,
As is fair Margaret, he be link'd in love.
Then yield, my lords; and here conclude with me,
That Margaret shall be queen, and none but she.

Kin.
Whether it be through force of your report,
My noble lord of Suffolk; or for that
My tender youth was never yet attaint
With any passion of inflaming love,
I cannot tell; but this I am assur'd,
I feel such sharp dissention in my breast,
Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear,
As I am sick with working of my thoughts.
Take, therefore, shipping; post, my lord, to France;
Agree to any covenants; and procure
That lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come
To cross the seas to England, and be crown'd
King Henry's faithful and anointed queen:
For your expences and sufficient charge,
Among the people gather up a tenth.

Be gone, I say; for, 'till you do return,
I rest perplexed with a thousand cares.—
And you, good uncle, banish all offence:
If you do censure me by what you were,
Not what you are, I know it will excuse
This sudden execution of my will.
And so conduct me, where from company
I may revolve and ruminate my grief. [Exit.

Glo.
Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and last. [Exeunt Gloster, and Exeter.

Suf.
Thus Suffolk hath prevail'd: and thus he goes,
As did the youthful Paris once to Greece;
With hope to find the like event in love,
But prosper better than the Trojan did.
Margaret shall now be queen, and rule the king;
But I will rule both her, the king, and realm. [Exit.

Previous section