SCENE 1. _Same as in act second. The king, Pembroke, Albemarle,

Winchester, and other lords entering._

_Hen._ The barons are assembling. On to London, And call the council. I will join you there. The revenues long promised shall be paid. At last I am a king! Will post, my lords? Night shuffles toward the morn.

_Pem._ You'll not forget Your barons' suit, my liege.

_Hen._ Bring the petition. I'll look at it, and then--will what I will.

[_Exit_]

_Alb._ What new-gown cock is this?

_Pem._ Will what I will! And post you, sirs!

_Win._ The child that hung at knees Now stands on the great shoulders of De Burgh, And ports himself a giant o'er our heads.

_Pem._ Ha, so! This wedge of love 'twixt you and Henry Quite thrusts you out.

_Win._ True, sir, but I've in mind A plot will reach as high as Kent's new head, Which, with your sworn and loyal aid, I'll push To fullest stature.

_Pem._ You have my oath, my lord.

_Win._ And bond more sure--your spurring need to prick Kent's swelling strength. But you, lord Albemarle-- The mighty Kent is brother to your wife, Which now may count somewhat to lift your fortunes.

_Alb._ And when didst see my fortunes lie so low As need the hoisting hand of friend or kin? Nay, our ambitions swear us enemies! I stand as free, my lord, as any here.

_Win._ Then hear my plan. You know I carry all With the archbishop.

_Pem._ True. If Winchester would Trust Canterbury to find way.

_Win._ Through him We'll call this council in the name of Rome, To kill the canker in the bud of peace So lately ventured in the track of war, And sound abroad that on this holy day All weapons, armor, and gross sign of blood Shall be laid by. I will persuade the king His dignity is touched to be so quick To fill his purse before he says his prayers, And that 'tis wise to throw this goodly bait To hook the common love. Now to this meeting Let every prelate bear most righteous arms, And every baron look well to his sword; Then when the unsuspecting king appears, Close companied no doubt by his new earl, That mushroom minion we will dare accuse And crop his power as we prize our safety.

_Pem._ But will not Kent oppose this swordless worship?

_Win._ Nay, he's afflicted with true piety, And in the addling flush of high success Is mellow with the good love of the world. All men are honest now! Trust me, he'll bait At what his judgment yesterday had scorned.

_Alb._ But what have we t' advance with show of right Against him?

_Win._ Gualo brings the axe--although He knows it not--that shall behead De Burgh. Trust me, my lords, and soon you shall know more.

_Alb._ Work as you will, for while he is in power We are but puppets and I dance not well.

_Win._ I'll ride with Gualo, and begin our move. Then on to Canterbury. Fare you well, Till morning bring our bold designs together.

[_Exit_]

_Alb._ How, Pembroke? Seest the gull in this?

_Pem._ It needs No second sight, my lord. The barons' arms Outnumber all the feeble prelacy.

_Alb._ Thinks we'll stop with Kent when Henry stands Defenceless 'fore us? Come! We too must ride.

_Pem._ Proud Poitevin! He plots to lose his head, And give this land a king indeed!

_Alb._ My Pembroke!

[_Exeunt. An attendant opens the large doors, rear, lady Albemarle and the princess Margaret enter_]

_La. Alb._ What! no one here? We have not seen a soul But the poor fool who brought us food and wine. I'll not endure it! Are we prisoners? Mewed up these hours, when all about there's stir As Fate changed hands and rumbled destiny. Such clattering, shifting, revel, and "To horse!" And we mope here like toothless dames that long Have lost the world!

_Att._ Your ladyship, the king Will see you here.

_La. Alb._ That's better. He shall beg My pardon. [_Seats herself_]

_Mar._ How canst think of things so slight When even now your brother may be lost?

_La. Alb._ I lose no kingdom with him. That's your theme, And, lord, you don't neglect it.

_Mar._ [_Walking away from her_] O, for word! Surely some word has come!

_La. Alb._ Would I were home! 'Twas you, my lady, put this journey on me With prating of my duty to my brother. But I know why you came.

_Mar._ O me, you know?

_La. Alb._ That does not mark me wise. A fool might guess.

_Mar._ O, I am lost! Dear lady, be my friend!

_La. Alb._ Why such a fluttering like a lass in folly? The king was here, and 'twas mere wit in you To follow after, making me your foil.

_Mar._ The king?

_La. Alb._ Ay, ay, the king! I understand Your cry about my brother.

_Mar._ O!

_La. Alb._ Why such an "O!" As though you'd swallow all the air i' the room And kill me with vacuity.

_Mar._ Ah, madam!

_La. Alb._ You'll not have long to wait. He'll be here soon.

_Mar._ O, then you think he's safe?

_La. Alb._ I think he's safe? Why should he not be safe?

_Mar._ Could I believe it!

_La. Alb._ His truest lords are with him. Albemarle Himself is guard sufficient.

_Mar._ Albemarle? He is not with your brother!

_La. Alb._ Brother? Pah! How you draw off and on, as 'twere a shame To love a king!

_Mar._ The king? Ah--I----

_La. Alb._ You ask If he is safe, and I say safe enough, Then drops the curtain of your modesty, And you cry of my brother. Faith, you'll have Me set about with this till I believe My brother is the king of England!

_Mar._ O, I'm wretched, wretched!

_La. Alb._ Patience! He'll be here. True, 'tis most beggarly of him to lag, But do not doubt he'll come.

_Mar._ He will not come. O, never, never, never!

_La. Alb._ Foolish lass! He can not stay away from you--his wife. I might as well be out with 't soon as late.

_Mar._ O, lady--countess--if you e'er had need Of gentle friends----

_La. Alb._ I know not what to do With this strange piece of daintiness. Up, mistress! How will you blush when Henry calls you wife, If I, in play, can throw you on your knees?

_Mar._ Henry? God pity me! I am so racked!

_La. Alb._ Thou art a fool! Up, girl, there's some one comes. If 't be the king! Quick now, and smooth your face. If he should wonder at this trace of tears, I'll tell him why you wept.

_Mar._ You could not be So cruel!

_La. Alb._ Cruel? How? 'Twill please him well To hear you wept for him.

_Mar._ For him?

[_Enter attendant_]

_Att._ The king.

_La. Alb._ Now, now, be still. He comes.

[_Enter Henry_]

_Hen._ My duty to My fair and honored guests. And my first suit Is for your pardon that I come so late; My next is still for pardon I must haste Unto my third, and pray the lady Margaret For word with her alone.

_La. Alb._ I will withdraw, My lord.

_Hen._ [_To attendants_] Attend the countess.

_Mar._ O! dear Heaven!

_Hen._ Are you at prayers, sweet lady?

_Mar._ Say I am, Can women pray too much, who need so oft The soft protection of the holy skies?

_Hen._ Have I been slack in care? Ah, Margaret, Let youth excuse neglect the past may know. In future----

_Mar._ O, thou hast been all I wish!

_Hen._ All? All, Margaret? You've been in England Ten years or more, and understand, I think, Why you, a child, were sent unto our court.

_Mar._ My lord, when peace was made with Scotland's king, I was included in the arbitrament, But am uncertain of the precise terms, Though I dare think there was no mention made Of marriage.

_Hen._ There was a dowry paid To English coffers.

_Mar._ Dowry? Ah, was 't not A dainty serving of too humble pie? Mere specious covering for indemnity Proud Scotland would not pay by such a name?

_Hen._ May be, but 'twas held wise to join the kingdoms By current of our blood.

_Mar._ True at that time 'Twas best for England to make closer ties Wi' the north, but now is Scotland on her knees, And you have naught to fear if you should choose To set aside my claim.

_Hen._ The people's eyes Are on you as their queen.

_Mar._ They will approve As readily if you make other choice.

_Hen._ Then 't seems we both are free to follow love In any court we please.

_Mar._ In truth, my lord!

_Hen._ And you reject me?

_Mar._ I am not so bold----

_Hen._ But, lady, in the world's mouth you will be My cast off love, for who is there so wise As to believe you would refuse a king?

_Mar._ I care not, sir! What is the world to me? O, let it think as 'twill, if only----

_Hen._ Ah, If only you are saved from me? But, madam, I can not flip the world away as you. It is my field of tourney where I joust For fame and tender reputation. I must not let men point to you and say "See Henry's fool!" You shall be wed at once Unto the lord most powerful in England Who yet is free.

_Mar._ O, sir----

_Hen._ The earl of Kent.

_Mar._ Your majesty, be merciful!

_Hen._ I am.

_Mar._ My knees were bending to you thankfully, But you have changed their purpose to a prayer For veriest pity. The earl of Kent, my lord? An old, fierce man, who scorns the name of love?

_Hen._ To you he will be kind. I'll stake my crown, Once wed to him you'll thank me for this day, And swear you'd choose him yours from all the world. He's in the castle now. I'll send him here, For I'm in haste to bring the marriage on. Wait here, sweet Margaret.

[_Opens doors rear, and she passes slowly through_]

_Mar._ Kill me, my lord!

_Hen._ Now, by these tears, you'll live to bless me yet, For from my heart I swear you're better wed Than if you chose the king. [_Closes doors and calls attendant_] Ho, there!

[_Enter attendant_] I'll see The earl of Kent. Bid him come in.

[_Exit attendant_] 'Tis cruel, But right they should be punished who forgot A king to please themselves.

[_Enter Hubert_]

_Hub._ Your majesty!

_Hen._ How now, my chancellor? Methinks this day Should mark the high note of thy singing heart. But thou art gloomy, as weighing still thy chance Against the flocking French. Canst not be merry If Henry bids thee, Hubert?

_Hub._ Ah, my lord, I little thought to have escaped the foe.

_Hen._ Is that to grieve on, man? By Heaven, I'll think It would have pleased you better to have sunk My fleet and not the enemy's. Come, come! What think you of the fortune we've assigned you? Art satisfied?

_Hub._ O, 'tis not to be borne!

_Hen._ I' faith, thou 'rt plain.

_Hub._ O, dear my liege, I mean----

_Hen._ Well, sir, I have another blessing for thee May prove more welcome. How wouldst like a wife Of royal blood? I will not tell her name, But take my word that were my heart not bound I'd look her way for fetters. She is fair, Ay, perfect as the lily plucked to grace A Lord's day altar, yet is proud enough To hold your new-dropped dignities above The mire and brambles of the common way; And all this, sir, shall be your wedded wife.

_Hub._ My lord----

_Hen._ Nay, do not thank me. Ah, at last I've touched the key of gratitude. Indeed, My Hubert, you are pale with this new joy. I almost, fear to tell you she is there-- Within that room--and waiting your approach.

_Hub._ My royal lord--I beg----

_Hen._ No, not a word Of thanks.

_Hub._ Not thanks! There's something else to say!

_Hen._ What, sir? Wouldst still play hang-lip at thy fortune?

_Hub._ Hear me, your majesty!

_Hen._ Nay, I will speak. Sir, I have done what monarchs seldom do, Proclaimed my general worthy of his hire, And paid it, too, and these sour looks from you Are as the poisonous leaves in a fair garland Marking it for decay. I've yielded much Unto your noble merit, but no more Will yield to your proud humor!

_Hub._ Hear, my lord----

_Hen._ No words! There is the door. Go in and find The lady that must be your wife, or down Come all your brave new honors to the ground!

[_Opens door and forces him through. Margaret is lying on the floor, her face hidden_]

_Hub._ O, Heaven! 'Tis Margaret!

_Mar._ O! [_Leaps up, gazes at Hubert and runs to his arms_] Hubert, Hubert!

[_The king closes the doors upon them_]

_Hen._ The midnight's past. I must away to Glaia, And by the sunrise at her window sing. My lords are set toward London. None shall know, Save Cupid's self, how far I ride to-night.

[_Curtain_]