Alb. How, Pembroke? Seest the gull in this?
Pem. It needs
No second sight, my lord. The barons' arms
Outnumber all the feeble prelacy.
Alb. Thinks we'll stop with Kent when Henry stands
Defenceless 'fore us? Come! We too must ride.
Pem. Proud Poitevin! He plots to lose his head,
And give this land a king indeed!
Alb. My Pembroke!
[Exeunt. An attendant opens the large doors, rear, lady Albemarle and the princess Margaret enter]