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]
Win. [Aside, gloating] Weep, fool, my star is in my hand!
Pem. God send you comfort, sire.
[Exeunt Winchester and Pembroke]