and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun, Exempt from envy, but not from disdain, Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve. Your grant, or your denial, shall be mine: Yet I confess that often ere this day, When I have heard your king's desert recounted, Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire. Then, Warwick, thus: 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 counterpoised. Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness That Bona shall be wife to the English king. To Edward, but not to the English king. Deceitful Warwick! it was thy device By this alliance to make void my suit: Before thy coming Lewis was Henry's friend. 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 released From giving aid which late I promised. Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand That your estate requires and mine can yield. Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease, Where having nothing, nothing can he lose. And as for you yourself, our quondam queen, You have a father able to maintain you; And better 'twere you troubled him than France. 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; For both of you are birds of selfsame feather. Warwick, this is some post to us or thee. My lord ambassador, these letters are for you, Sent from your brother, Marquess Montague: These from our king unto your majesty: And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not. I like it well that our fair queen and mistress Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his. Nay, mark how Lewis stamps, as he were nettled: I hope all's for the best. Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen? Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys. Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent. What! has your king married the Lady Grey! And now, to soothe your forgery and his, Sends me a paper to persuade me patience? Is this the alliance that he seeks with France? Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner? I told your majesty as much before: This proveth Edward's