Take heed, my Lord, the welfare of vs all,
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudfull man.
Enter Somerset

Som. All health vnto my gracious Soueraigne

King. Welcome Lord Somerset: What Newes from
France?
Som. That all your Interest in those Territories,
Is vtterly bereft you: all is lost

King. Cold Newes, Lord Somerset: but Gods will be
done

Yorke. Cold Newes for me: for I had hope of France,
As firmely as I hope for fertile England.
Thus are my Blossomes blasted in the Bud,
And Caterpillers eate my Leaues away:
But I will remedie this geare ere long,
Or sell my Title for a glorious Graue.
Enter Gloucester.

Glost. All happinesse vnto my Lord the King:
Pardon, my Liege, that I haue stay'd so long

Suff. Nay Gloster, know that thou art come too soone,
Vnlesse thou wert more loyall then thou art:
I doe arrest thee of High Treason here

Glost. Well Suffolke, thou shalt not see me blush,