15 K. Lew. Whate’er it be, be thou still like thyself,
[♦] And sit thee by our side: [Seats her by him] yield not thy neck
To fortune’s yoke, but let thy dauntless mind
Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief;
20 It shall be eased, if France can yield relief.
[♦] Q. Mar. Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts
And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.
Now, therefore, be it known to noble Lewis,
That Henry, sole possessor of my love,