That your estate requires and mine can yield.
War. Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease,
Where having nothing, nothing can he lose. 152
And as for you yourself, our quondam queen,
You have a father able to maintain you,
And better 'twere you troubled him than France.
Mar. Peace! impudent and shameless Warwick, peace; 156
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; 160
For both of you are birds of self-same feather.
Lew. Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.
Enter the Post.
Post. My lord ambassador, these letters are for you, Speaks to Warwick.
Sent from your brother, Marquess Montague: 164
These from our king unto your majesty. To Lewis.
And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not. To Margaret.
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. 168
Prince. Nay, mark how Lewis stamps as he were nettled:
I hope all's for the best.
Lew. Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen?
157 Cf. n.
160 conveyance: deceit
162 post: messenger bearing letters
169 as: as if
