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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 forward.

Arch. Before, and greet his grace.-My lord, we [Exeunt.

come.

SCENE II.-Another Part of the Forest. Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, the Archbishop, HASTINGS, and others: from the other side, Prince JOHN of LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND, Officer's, and Attendants.

P. John. You are well encountered here, my cousin Mowbray.

Good day to you, gentle lord árchbishop ;-
And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.-
My Lord of York, it better showed 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!

bishop,

With

you,

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 imagined voice of God himself,
The very opener and intelligencer

But

you

Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven
And our dull workings. O, who shall believe
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 ta’en 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-swarmed them.

Arch.

lord

Good my Lord of Lancaster,

I am not here against your father's peace;
But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland,

The time misordered 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 shoved from the court,

Whereon this Hydra son of war is born;

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

And true obedience, of this madness cured,
Stood 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
While England shall have generation.

P. John. You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow,

To sound the bottom of the after-times.

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 redressed;
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. [Drinks. Hast. [To an Officer.] Go, captain, and deliver

to the army

This news of peace: let them have pay,

and part.

I know, it will well please them: hie thee, cap

tain.

[Exit Officer.

Arch. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland.

[Drinks. West. I pledge your grace: [Drinks] and if you knew what pains

I have bestowed 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.

[Drinks. Mowb. You wish me health in very happy sea

son;

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 tomorrow.'

Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in

spirit.

true.

Mowb. So much the worse, if your own rule be [Shouts within. P. John. The word of peace is rendered: hark, how they shout!

Mowb. This had been cheerful after victory.

Arch. A peace is of the nature of a con

quest;

For then both parties nobly are subdued,

And neither party loser.

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