SUFFOLK.
Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.
QUEEN MARGARET.
And so say I.
YORK.
And I. And now we three have spoke it,
It skills not greatly who impugns our doom.
Enter a Post.
POST.
Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain
To signify that rebels there are up
And put the Englishmen unto the sword.
Send succours, lords, and stop the rage betime,
Before the wound do grow uncurable;
For, being green, there is great hope of help.
CARDINAL.
A breach that craves a quick expedient stop!
What counsel give you in this weighty cause?
YORK.
That Somerset be sent as regent thither.
’Tis meet that lucky ruler be employed;
Witness the fortune he hath had in France.
SOMERSET.
If York, with all his far-fet policy,
Had been the regent there instead of me,
He never would have stayed in France so long.
YORK.
No, not to lose it all as thou hast done.
I rather would have lost my life betimes
Than bring a burden of dishonour home
By staying there so long till all were lost.
Show me one scar charactered on thy skin;
Men’s flesh preserved so whole do seldom win.
QUEEN MARGARET.
Nay then, this spark will prove a raging fire
If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with.
No more, good York. Sweet Somerset, be still.
Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there,
Might happily have proved far worse than his.