O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly!
For I will touch thee but with reverent hands;
I kiss these fingers for eternal peace,
And lay them gently on thy tender side.
Who art thou? say, that I may honour thee.
Margaret my name, and daughter to a king,
The King of Naples, whosoe’er thou art.
An earl 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 cygnets save,
Keeping them prisoner underneath her wings.
Yet, if this servile usage once offend,
Go and be free again as Suffolk’s friend. She is 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 Pole! disable not thyself;
Hast not a tongue? is she not here?
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman’s sight?
Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,
Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.
Say, Earl of Suffolk—if thy name be so—
What ransom must I pay before I pass?
For I perceive I am thy prisoner.
How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit,
Before thou make a trial of her love?
She’s beautiful and therefore to be woo’d;
She is a woman, therefore to be won.
Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife;
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour?
I’ll win this Lady Margaret. For whom?
Why, for my king: tush, that’s a wooden thing!
Yet so my fancy may be satisfied,
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 Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor,
And our nobility will scorn the match.
It shall be so, disdain they ne’er so much:
Henry is youthful and will quickly yield.
Madam, I have a secret to reveal.
What though I be enthrall’d? he seems a knight,
And will not any way dishonour me.
Perhaps I shall be rescued by the French;
And then I need not crave his courtesy.
Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose
Your bondage happy, to be made a queen?
To be a queen in bondage is more vile
Than is a slave in base servility;
For princes should be free.
And so shall you,
If happy England’s royal king be free.
I’ll undertake to make thee Henry’s queen,
To put a golden sceptre in thy hand
And set a precious crown upon thy head,
If thou wilt condescend to be my—
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 ye so content?
Then call our captains and our colours forth.
And, madam, at your father’s castle walls
We’ll crave a parley, to confer with him.
Suffolk, what remedy?
I am a soldier and unapt to weep
Or to exclaim on fortune’s fickleness.
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.
Fair Margaret knows
That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.
Upon thy princely warrant, I descend
To give thee answer of thy just demand. Exit from the walls.
Welcome, brave earl, into our territories:
Command in Anjou what your honour pleases.
Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child,
Fit to be made companion with a king:
What answer makes your grace unto my suit?
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 country Maine and Anjou,
Free from oppression or the stroke of war,
My daughter shall be Henry’s, if he please.
That is her ransom; I deliver her;
And those two counties I will undertake
Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.
And I again, in Henry’s royal name,
As deputy unto that gracious king,
Give thee her hand, for sign of plighted faith.
Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks,
Because this is in traffic of a king.
Aside. 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 solemnized.
So farewell, Reignier: set this diamond safe
In golden palaces, as it becomes.
I do embrace thee, as I would embrace
The Christian prince, King Henry, were he here.
Farewell, my lord: good wishes, praise and prayers
Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. Going.
Farewell, sweet madam: but hark you, Margaret;
No princely commendations to my king?
Such commendations as becomes a maid,
A virgin and his servant, say to him.
Words sweetly placed and