Mowb. Be it fo.

Here is return'd my lord of Westmoreland.

Re-enter Weftmoreland.

Weft. The prince is here at hand: Pleafeth your lordship, To meet his grace just distance 'tween our armies? Mowb. Your grace of York, in heaven's name then set forward.

Before, and greet his grace.

York. My lord, we come,

SCENE II.

Another Part of the Foreft.

[Exeunt.

Enter on one fide Mowbray, the Archbishop, Haftings, and others from the other fide, Prince John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, officers, &c.

Lan. You are well encounter'd here, my coufin Mow,

bray :

Good day to you, gentle lord archbishop ;-
And so to you, lord Hastings,—and to all.—
My lord of York, it better fhew'd with you,
When that your flock, affembled by the bell,
Encircled you, to hear with reverence
Your expofition on the holy text;

Ꮓ

Than now to fee you here an iron man,
Chearing a rout of rebels with your drum,
Turning the word to fword, and life to death.
That man, that fits within a monarch's heart,
And ripens in the fun-fhine of his favour,
Would he abuse the countenance of the king,
Alack, what mischiefs might he fet abroach,

? an iron man,[-clad in armour.

In fhadow of such greatness! With you, lord bishop,
It is even fo:-Who hath not heard it spoken,
How deep you were within the books of God?
To us, the fpeaker in his parliament;

a

To us, the image and voice of heaven itself;
The very opener, and intelligencer,

Between the grace, the fanctities of heaven,
And our dull workings: O, who fhall believe,
But you misuse the reverence of your place;
Employ the countenance and grace of heaven,
As a falfe favourite doth his prince's name,
In deeds difhonourable? You have taken up,
Under the counterfeited zeal of God,

b

The fubjects of his fubftitute, my father;
And, both against the peace of heaven and him,
Have here up-fwarm'd them.

York. Good my lord of Lancaster,

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

The time mif-order'd doth, in common sense,

Crowd us, and crufh us, to this monstrous form,

To hold our fafety up. I fent your grace

The parcels and particulars of our grief;

The which hath been with fcorn fhov'd from the court,

Whereon this Hydra fon of war is born:

Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep,

With grant of our moft juft and right defires;

And true obedience, of this madness cur'd,

Stoop tamely to the foot of majefty.

Mowb. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes

To the laft man.

Haft. And though we here fall down,

We have fupplies to fecond our attempt;

a imagin'd.

btaken up,]-levied, rais'd an army.

ip common fenfe,]-from an apprehenfion of general danger.

If

If they mifcarry, theirs fhall fecond them:
And fo, fuccefs of mischief shall be born;
And heir from heir fhall hold this quarrel up,
Whiles England fhall have generation.

Lan. You are too fhallow, Haftings, much too fhallow, To found the bottom of the after-times.

Weft. Pleaseth your grace, to answer them directly, How far-forth you do like their articles?

Lan. I like them all, and do allow them well;
And fwear here by the honour of my blood,
My father's purpofes have been mistook;
And fome about him have too lavishly
Wrested his meaning, and authority.-

My lords, these griefs fhall be with speed redress'd;
Upon my life, they fhall. If this may please you,
Discharge your powers unto their feveral 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.

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

Haft. Go, captain, and deliver to the army This news of peace; let them have pay, and part: I know, it will please them; Hie thee, captain. [Exit Captain York. To you, my noble lord of Westmoreland.

Weft. I pledge your grace: And, if you knew what pains

I have beftow'd, to breed this prefent peace,

You would drink freely: but my love to you

Shall fhew itfelf more openly hereafter.

York. I do not doubt you.

fuccefsa fucceffion,

West.

Weft. I am glad of it.—

Health to my lord, and gentle coufin, Mowbray.

Mowb. You wish me health in very happy feafon; For I am, on the fudden, something ill.

York. Against ill chances, men are ever merry; But heavinefs fore-runs the good event.

West. Therefore be merry, coz; fince fudden forrow Serves to fay thus,-Some good thing comes to-morrow. York. Believe me, I am paffing light in fpirit.

Mowb. So much the worse, if your own rule be true.

[Shout. Lan. The word of peace is render'd; Hark, how they

fhout!

Mowb. This had been chearful, after victory.

York. A peace is of the nature of a conqueft;
For then both parties nobly are fubdu’d,
And neither party lofer.

Lan. Go, my lord,

And let our army be discharged too.

And, good my lord, so please you, let

[Exit Weft.

your trains

March by us; that we may peruse the men

We should have cop'd withal.

York. Go, good lord Haftings,

And, ere they be difmifs'd, let them march by.

[Exit Haftings. Lan. I truft, lords, we fhall lie to-night together.

Re-enter Westmoreland.

Now, coufin, wherefore ftands our army ftill?

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

Lan. They know their duties,

Re-enter Haftings.

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

Weft. Good tidings, my lord Haftings; for the which I do arreft thee, traitor, of high treason :

And you, lord archbishop,-and you, lord Mowbray,Of capital treafon I attach you both.

Mowb. Is this proceeding juft and honourable?

Weft. Is your affembly fo?

York. Will you thus break your

Lan. I pawn'd thee none :

faith?

I promis'd you redress of these fame grievances,
Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,
I will perform with a most christian care.
But, for you rebels,-look to taste the due
Meet for rebellion, and such acts as yours.
Most shallowly did you these arms commence,
'Fondly brought here, and foolishly fent hence.-
Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter'd stray';
Heaven, and not we, hath fafely fought to-day.-
Some guard these traitors to the block of death;
Treafon's true bed, and yielder up of breath.

[Exeunt. [Alarum. Excurfions.

Another Part of the Foreft.

Enter Fallaff, and Colevile, meeting.

Fal. What's your name, fir? of what condition are you;

and of what place, I pray?

Fondly]-Rafhly.

fcatter'd ftray]-the ftragglers.

Cole.