_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_]