SCENE 1. _A small altar room, adjoining the king's apartment.

Henry bowed and kneeling. Enter Winchester and attendant._

_Att._ Since morning he has knelt, and sees no one. You are the first admitted.

_Win._ Dear my lord----

_Hen._ [_Rising and turning to Winchester_] Will you, too, tell me she is dead?

_Win._ Alas----

_Hen._ O, not that word--the pretty mask of woe. That never hid a tear. If she is dead, Weep and be dumb, or find some word that rends The heart in uttering it.

_Win._ My lord----

_Hen._ My lord! You're too polite a mourner, by my faith! O, Glaia, Glaia, Glaia, art thou dead? Canst thou then sleep, O, God?

_Win._ That he does sleep This deed is proof.

_Hen._ What deed? 'Tis false! She lives. 'Twas blessed yester morn I held her here, And heard her laugh and say my kisses were Like Maythorn blossoms dropping on her hair. And can her voice be still? Nay, fiends themselves Love music, and would spare to put so much To silence. O, in her tongue the nightingale Was dead, having no sweeter cause to live. She could not die. A thousand thousand angels Would rush to save her and with silvery wings Beat back the assaulting devil.

_Win._ Would I could say She lives! You drain my heart with every tear You drop upon this woe. Loved majesty, Look up and weep no more.

_Hen._ Stop not my tears. They shall pour sea-like till my body lies An isle o'erwhelmed. My eyes could lend the skies Another flood yet lack not moisture.... Glaia! It was my kiss that slew thee. But for me Thou hadst been living still. So Winter springs To clasp his blushing Autumn love, then spends His weary season burying her dead leaves.

_Win._ Rouse you, my lord. The creature is alive That slew her.

_Hen._ He is found?--and lives--and you Stand here to tell me?

_Win._ Hear my story, sire. When we arrested Kent----

_Hen._ Arrested Kent? You could not wait? Well, we shall see, my lord, My Glaia loved him and he shall not die.

_Win._ The moment he was taken he confessed That he had slain the maid----

_Hen._ What is 't you say? Now, by my life, I thought you said that Kent-- I'll not repeat it--'twas so strange a thing-- I'm numb since this dark news, and what I hear By insurrection of my wits becomes What I hear not.

_Win._ Recall yourself, my lord. Your wits are loyal, and inform you rightly. I said 'twas Kent----

_Hen._ Ha! Now the devil speaks In his own person. You've thrust the cloven foot Too far from 'neath the bishop's gown.

_Win._ My lord----

_Hen._ Now I read back and take the hellish measure Of all your lies!

_Win._ Your majesty----

_Hen._ Sir, I have loved this man, and when I felt Too weak for England's throne, I laid my head Upon his breast and there grew strong as he. And you dare say----

_Win._ I do not say, my liege, The crime is his, but he confessed it so. Here are the words in which he damns himself. [_Gives the king a paper_]

_Hen._ Drop from the world, O sun! Make all the air Dark as my heart, that from this hour shall know No re-ascending star! Leave me, my lord. All's as you please. Do what you will. The world No more shall draw me forth to look upon it. Yet I am young, and had but learned to smile.

[_Enter attendant_]

_Att._ The earl of Pembroke begs to see my lord Of Winchester.

_Hen._ Admit him here. I'll pray. [_Turns to altar. Enter Pembroke_]

_Win._ What news, your grace?

_Pem._ 'Tis strange enough, my lord. Kent's wife, the princess Margaret, now swears 'Twas she who took the maiden's life, and speaks With so much care and proof of circumstance I scarce can doubt her.

_Win._ Margaret!

_Pem._ No other. She says 'twas she alone, and not her husband.

_Win._ This fortune wears our colors. Give it welcome. I feared she'd rouse all England,--Scotland, too,-- In Kent's defence. You know her blood of old. But now her hands are bound.

_Pem._ Then you've no doubt 'Twas she?

_Win._ I wish to have none, that's enough To shape my looks by. [_Henry rises and comes toward them_] Ah, my liege, we hear That Margaret is author of the crime We now bewail, not Kent.

_Hen._ That it was either I can not whip my senses to believe.

_Win._ She has confessed.

_Hen._ Why, so did Kent. This shows A gap in proof.

_Win._ Kent thought to shield his wife.

_Hen._ Then he must love her well, and yet your tongue Struck hard another way. Nay, it is she Who thinks to save her lord. Poor Margaret, Thou hadst done better to have wed the king.

_Win._ My lord, we can not doubt Kent loved this maid. 'Twas as apparent as the light to eyes; And he would pause ere put her from his arms To bed with worms; but this same love would be Poor Margaret's bitter cause to wish her dead; And Jealousy, we know, is page to Murder, Holding the candle for the hellish stroke.

_Hen._ But why should Kent confess?

_Win._ With all his sins, He has the grace of chivalry, and thought By his confession to save Margaret, Not caring for his fate since he was doomed For other crime.

_Hen._ I'll hear no more, my lord. A woman ... and that woman--Margaret.

_Win._ My liege----

_Hen._ No more. Here is my seal. 'Tis yours. And now I beg you go. Nothing is dear But grief, sole link 'tween me and love. Leave me, I pray. [_Turns to altar_]

_Win._ [_Aside, gloating_] Weep, fool, my star is in my hand!

_Pem._ God send you comfort, sire.

[_Exeunt Winchester and Pembroke_]

_Hen._ [_To attendant_] Let none approach me.

[_Exit attendant._]

_Henry sings_]

I laid a rose upon my heart, Ay me! Soon 'gan its beauty to depart, Ay, ay me! I nursed it with desire, Still did its beauty go. For O, my heart was fire, Cruel fire! Ay me, I did not know, I did not know.

[_Enter a friar through panel door behind altar_]

Art thou a shadow come to say All men are shadows and naught living is?

_Friar._ I come to give God's help and ask for thine, My son and king.

_Hen._ 'Tis death, sir, thus to steal Into my presence.

_Friar._ So I prove my love For thee, your highness, venturing life to reach Thine ear's seclusion.

_Hen._ What wouldst tell me, father? I've heard your voice before and found it honest. By that, mayhap, we'll prove old friends. Come in.

[_Exeunt_]