_Cant._ Your majesty, The lady Margaret, thanks to Heaven and you, Is now at liberty, but the life of Kent Is forfeited. He must at once to doom. _Hen._ Already sentenced, sir? You're hasty reaching Your black conclusion. Stay a little---- _Cant._ Sire, We moved with deference, respecting him Who for a time had lived within your bosom. To longer stay his death would tempt the skies To draw their mercy from us, seeing it were So basely used. Guards here for Kent! _Hen._ O, stay One moment, please your eminence. My lord Of Winchester, I'd see again the papers First gave excuse to put this guilt on Kent. _Win._ And here they are, my liege. [_Gives him papers_] There you will read Of the great trust consigned by Henry Second To Geoffrey de Burgh, and by him to his son, As Adelais brings proof. [_Enter Wynne, carrying a small box_] _Wynne._ Your majesty---- _Hen._ [_Reading_] Your patience! Presently we'll hear you. _Pem._ What! The lord of Wynne returned? _Alb._ Returned! I doubt If he has seen salt water. _Pem._ But I hope He has not bent a wizard's eye upon Our secrets. _Hen._ Hear, my lords, this paper given By dying Pembroke to our Winchester, Signed, ay, and written, by our grandsire king. [_Reads_] "And for we know that envious ills assail The nobly born when not by wedlock blest----" _Win._ Nay--'tis not that! My lord, I beg--it is The other paper! _Hen._ [_Reading_] "Till he be a man And cast a weighty spear, let him be called De Burgh, and known as Geoffrey's son----" _Win._ Hear me---- _Hen._ Peter des Roches, here's matter for your death, Which at your humble suit we'll moderate To banishment. _Win._ O, blasted be this hand---- _Wynne._ Curse not the unlucky hand that bared thy sin, For we have other proof of Kent's high birth. Within this box where lady Albemarle Treasured the tokens from her kingly love, I found a paper of another tenor,-- A letter from her father, old De Burgh, To be delivered at his death to one Called Hubert, his supposed son, wherein He tells him of his birth and bids him claim Name and estate as his great father willed. You know the words, my fallen Winchester,-- "Rockingham, Harle, Beham and Fotheringay, With strongest Bedford as his ducal seat." This letter, as we know, was kept from Kent, And where 'twas found best tells the why thereof. _Ade._ [_Rising_] Who will deny me now? Must I keep still, Ye lords of England? Have I yet your leave T' embrace my son?