He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry:
For all the country, in a general voice,

Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers and love
Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on,
And bless'd and grac'd indeed, more than the king.
But this is mere digression from my purpose.-
Here come I from our princely general

To know your griefs; to tell you from his grace
That he will give you audience; and wherein
It shall appear that your demands are just,
You shall enjoy them,-everything set off
That might so much as think you enemies.

Mowb. But he hath forc'd us to compel this offer;
And it proceeds from policy, not love.

West. Mowbray, you overween to take it so;
This offer comes from mercy, not from fear:
For, lo! within a ken, our army lies:
Upon mine honour, all too confident
To give admittance to a thought of fear.
Our battle is more full of names than yours,
Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
Our armour all as strong, our cause the best;
Then reason will our hearts should be as good:
Say you not, then, our offer is compell'd.

Mowb. Well, by my will we shall admit no parley.
West. That argues but the shame of your offence:
A rotten case abides no handling.

Hast. Hath the Prince John a full commission,

In very ample virtue of his father,

To hear and absolutely to determine

Of what conditions we shall stand upon?

West. That is intended in the general's name :

I muse you make so slight a question.

Arch. Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule, For this contains our general grievances:

Each several article herein redress'd,

All members of our cause, both here and hence,

That are insinew'd to this action,

Acquitted by a true substantial form,
And present execution of our wills
To us and to our purposes consign'd,—
We come within our awful banks again,
And knit our powers to the arm of peace.
West. This will I show the general.
In sight of both our battles we may meet;
And either end in peace,-which God so frame !—

Please

you,

lords,

Or to the place of difference call the swords
Which must decide it.

Arch.

My lord, we will do so.

[Exit WESTMORELAND.

Mowb. There is a thing within my bosom tells me That no conditions of our peace can stand.

Hast. Fear you not that: if we can make our peace Upon such large terms and so absolute

As our conditions shall consist upon,

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
Mowb. Ay, but our valuation shall be such,
That every slight and false-derived cause,
Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason,
Shall to the king taste of this action;

That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,

We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind

That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff,

And good from bad find no partition.

Arch. No, no, my lord. Note this,-the king is weary

Of dainty and such picking grievances:

For he hath found, to end one doubt by death

Revives two greater in the heirs of life;

And therefore will he wipe his tables clean,
And keep no tell-tale to his memory,
That may repeat and history his loss

To new remembrance: for full well he knows
He cannot so precisely weed this land
As his misdoubts present occasion:
His foes are so enrooted with his friends
That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
He doth unfasten so and shake a friend.
So that this land, like an offensive wife
That hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes,
As he is striking, holds his infant up,
And hangs resolv'd correction in the arm
That was uprear'd to execution.

Hast. Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods
On late offenders, that he now doth lack

The very instruments of chastisement:

So that his power, like to a fangless lion,
May offer, but not hold.

Arch.

'Tis very true:

And therefore be assur'd, my good lord marshal,
If we do now make our atonement well,

Our peace will, like a broken limb united,
Grow stronger for the breaking.

Here is return'd my Lord of Westmoreland.

Re-enter WESTMORELAND.

West. The prince is here at hand: pleaseth your lordship To meet his grace just distance 'tween our armies?

Mowb. Your grace of York, in God's name, then, set for

ward.

Arch. Before, and greet his grace:-my lord, we come.

SCENE II.-Another part of the Forest.

[Exeunt.

Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, the ARCHBISHOP, HASTINGS, and others: from the other side, PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND, Officers, and Attendants.

P. John. You are well encounter'd here, my cousin Mowbray :

Good-day to you, gentle lord archbishop;

And so to you, Lord Hastings,—and to all.—
My Lord of York, it better show'd with you
When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
Encircled you to hear with reverence
Your exposition on the holy text,
Than now to see you here an iron man,
Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,
Turning the word to sword, and life to death.
That man that sits within a monarch's heart,
And ripens in the sunshine of his favour,
Would he abuse the countenance of the king,
Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach,
In shadow of such greatness! With you, lord bishop,
It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken
How deep you were within the books of God?
To us the speaker in his parliament;
To us the imagin'd voice of God himself;
The very opener and intelligencer

Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven,
And our dull workings. O, who shall believe
But you misuse the reverence of your place,
Employ the countenance and grace of heaven
As a false favourite doth his prince's name,
In deeds dishonourable? You have taken up,
Under the counterfeited seal of God,
The subjects of his substitute, my father,

And both against the peace of heaven and him
Have here up-swarm'd them.

Arch.

Good my Lord of Lancaster,

I am not here against your father's peace;
But as I told my Lord of Westmoreland,
The time misorder'd doth, in common sense,
Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form,
To hold our safety up. I sent your grace
The parcels and particulars of our grief,-

The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the court,—
Whereon this Hydra son of war is born;

Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep
With grant of our most just and right desires,

And true obedience, of this madness cur'd,
Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.

Mowb. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes
To the last man.

Hast.

And though we here fall down,
We have supplies to second our attempt:
If they miscarry, theirs shall second them;
And so success of mischief shall be born,
And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up
Whiles England shall have generation.

P. John. You are too shallow, Hastings, much too To sound the bottom of the after-times.

[shallow,

West. Pleaseth your grace to answer them directly,

How far-forth you do like their articles.

P. John. I like them all, and do allow them well;
And swear here, by the honour of my blood,
My father's purposes have been mistook;
And some about him have too lavishly
Wrested his meaning and authority.-

My lord; these griefs shall be with speed redress'd;
Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you,
Discharge your powers unto their several counties,
As we will ours: and here, between the armies,
Let's drink together friendly, and embrace,
That all their eyes may bear those tokens home
Of our restored love and amity.

Arch. I take your princely word for these redresses.
P. John. I give it you, and will maintain my word:
And thereupon I drink unto your grace.

Hast. Go, captain [to an Officer], and deliver to the This news of peace; let them have pay, and part:

I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain.

[army

[Exit Officer.

Arch. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland.
West. I pledge your grace; and, if you knew what pains
I have bestow'd to breed this present peace,

You would drink freely: but my love to you
Shall show itself more openly hereafter.

Arch. I do not doubt you.

West.

I am glad of it.

Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray.

Mowb. You wish me health in very happy season;

For I am, on the sudden, something ill.

Arch. Against ill chances men are ever merry;

But heaviness foreruns the good event.

West. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden sorrow Serves to say thus,-Some good thing comes to-morrow. Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.

Mowb. So much the worse, if your own rule be true. [Shouts within. P. John. The word of peace is render'd: hark, how they

shout!

Mowb. This had been cheerful after victory.

Arch. A peace is of the nature of a conquest;

For then both parties nobly are subdued,

And neither party loser.

P. John.

Go, my lord,

And let our army be discharged too. [Exit WESTMORELAND. And, good my lord, so please you let your trains

March by us, that we may peruse the men

We should have cop'd withal.

Arch.

Go, good Lord Hastings,

And, ere they be dismissed, let them march by.

[Exit HASTINGS. P. John. I trust, my lords, we shall lie to-night together.

Re-enter WESTMORELAND.

Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?

West. The leaders, having charge from you to stand, Will not go off until they hear you speak.

P. John. They know their duties.

Re-enter HASTINGS.

Hast. My lord, our army is dispers'd already: Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their courses East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up, Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.

West. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason: