_Q. Mar._ Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, peace, [ccc156] 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; ·ccc160· For both of you are birds of selfsame feather. [ccc161] [_Post blows a horn within._ _K. Lew._ Warwick, this is some post to us or thee. _Enter a_ Post. _Post._ [_To War._] My lord ambassador, these letters are for you, [ccc163] Sent from your brother, Marquess Montague: [ccc164] [_To Lewis_] These from our king unto your majesty: ·ccc165· [_To Margaret_] And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not. [ccc166] [_They all read their letters._ _Oxf._ I like it well that our fair queen and mistress Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his. _Prince._ Nay, mark how Lewis stamps, as he were nettled: [ccc169] I hope all’s for the best. ·ccc170· _K. Lew._ Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen? [ccc171] _Q. Mar._ Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys. [ccc172] _War._ Mine, full of sorrow and heart’s discontent. _K. Lew._ What! has your king married the Lady Grey? And now, to soothe your forgery and his, [ccc175] 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? _Q. Mar._ I told your majesty as much before: This proveth Edward’s love and Warwick’s honesty. ·ccc180· _War._ King Lewis, I here protest, in sight of heaven, And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss, That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward’s, No more my king, for he dishonours me, But most himself, if he could see his shame. ·ccc185· Did I forget that by the house of York My father came untimely to his death? Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece? Did I impale him with the regal crown? Did I put Henry from his native right? ·ccc190· And am I guerdon’d at the last with shame? Shame on himself! for my desert is honour: And to repair my honour lost for him, I here renounce him and return to Henry. My noble queen, let former grudges pass, ·ccc195· And henceforth I am thy true servitor: I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona And replant Henry in his former state. _Q. Mar._ Warwick, these words have turn’d my hate to love; [ccc199] And I forgive and quite forget old faults, ·ccc200· And joy that thou becomest King Henry’s friend.