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; every thing set off,
That might so much as think you enemies.

Mow, But he bath fore'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 wills, our hearts should be as good:-
Say you not then, our offer is compell'd.

Mow. 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 shew the general. Please you, lords,

In sight of both our battles we may meet:
And either end in peace, which heaven so frame!
Or to the place of difference call the swords
Which must decide it.

Arch.

My lord, we will do so.

[Exit Westmoreland. Mow. 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.
Mow. 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 marshall,
If we do now make our atonement well,
Our peace will, like a broken limb united,
Grow stronger for the breaking.

Mow.
Be it so.
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? Mow. Your grace of York in God's name then set forward.

come.

Arch. Before, and greet his grace:-My lord, we [Exeunt. 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, 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 zeal of God,
The subjects of his substitute, my father;
And, both against the peace of heaven and him,
Have here up-swarm'd them.

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.

Mow. 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 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 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 army

This news of peace; let them have pay, and part:
I know, it will well please them; hie thee, captain.
[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.
Mow. 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. Mow. 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!

Mow. 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.

-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 :—
And you, lord archbishop,-and you, lord Mowbray,
Of capital treason I attach you both.

Mow. Is this proceeding just and honourable?
West. Is your assembly so?

Arch. Will you thus break your faith?

P. John.

I pawn'd thee none:

I promis'd you redress of these same 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 sent hence.-
Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter'd stray;
Heaven, and not we, hath safely fought to-day-
Some guard these traitors to the block of death;
Treason's true bed, and yielder up of breath. [Exeunt.

SCENE III-Another part of the Forest. Alarums;
Excursions. Enter Falstaff and Colevile, meeting,
Fal. What's your name, sir? of what condition are
you; and of what place, I pray?

Cole. I am a knight, sir; and my name is--Colevile of the dale.

Fal. Well then, Colevile is your name; a knight is your degree; and your place, the dale: Colevile shall I still be your name; a traitor your degree; and the dungeon your place,-a place deep enough; so shall you still be Colevile of the dale.

Cole. Are not you sir John Falstaff?

Fal. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Doye yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death : therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observ ance to my mercy.

Cole. I think, you are sir John Falstaff; and, in that thought, yield me.

Fal. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine; and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in Europe: My womb, my womb, my womb undocs me. -Here comes our general.

Enter Prince John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, and others.

P. John. The heat is past, follow no further now }~~ Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.[Exit West,

[Exit West.

Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while? When every thing is ended, then you come : These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,

And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains

March by us; that we may peruse the men
We should have cop'd withal.

One time or other break some gallows' back.

which environ it: makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes; which delivered o'er to the voice, (the tongue.) which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second pro perty of your excellent sherris is,-the warming of the blood; which, before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice: but the sherris warms it, and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme. It illumineth the face; which, as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm: and then the vital commoners, and inland petty spirits,

Fal. I know not; here he is, and here I yield him: and, I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the rest of this day's deeds; or, by the lord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture on the top of it, Colevile kissing my foot: To the which course if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt two-penees to me; and I, in the clear sky of fame, o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of the element, which show like pins' heads to her; believe not the word of the noble: Therefore let me have right, and let desert mount.

P. John. Thine's too heavy to mount.
Fel. Let it shine then.

P. John. Thine's too thick to shine.

Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it what you will.

P. John. Is thy name Colevile?
Cole. It is, my lord.

P. John. A famous rebel art thou, Colevile.
Fal. And a famous true subject took him.
Cole. I am, my lord, but as my betters are,
That led me hither: had they been rul'd by me,
You should have won them dearer than you have.
Fal. I know not how they sold themselves: but thou,
like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away; and I thank
thee for thee.

Re-enter Westmoreland.

P. John. Now, have you left pursuit?

West. Retreat is made, and execution stay'd. P. John. Send Colevile, with his confederates, To York, to present execution :--

Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure. [Exeunt some with Colevile.

And now despatch we toward the court, my lords;
I hear, the king my father is sore sick:
Our news shall go before us to his majesty,-
Which, cousin, you shall bear, to comfort him;
And we with sober speed will follow you.

Fal. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go through Glostershire: and, when you come to court, stand my good lord, 'pray, in your good report.

P. John. Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my condition, Shall better speak of you than you deserve. [Exit. Fal. I would, you had but the wit; 'twere better than your dukedom.-Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh;-but that's no marvel, he drinks no wine. There's never any of these demure boys come to any proof: for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they fail into a kind of male green-sickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches; they are generally fools and cowards ;-which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the foolish, and dull, and crudy vapours

and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of cour age; and this valour comes of sherris: So that skill in the weapon is nothing, without sack; for that sets it a-work and learning, a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil; till sack commences it, and sets it in act and use. Hereof comes it, that prince Harry is valiant: for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father, he bath, like lean, steril, and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with excellent endeavour of drink、 ing good, and good store of fertile sherris; that he is become very hot, and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them, should be,-to forswear thin potations, and addict themselves to sack.

Enter Bardolph.

How now, Bardolph ?

Bard. The army is discharged all, and gone.

Fal. Let them go. I'll through Glostershire; and there will I visit master Robert Shallow, esquire. I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away. [Exeunt. SCENE IV-Westminster. A Room in the Palace. Enter King Henry, Clarence, Prince Humphrey, Warwick, and others.

K. Hen. Now, lords, if heaven doth give successful end

To this debate that bleedeth at our doors,
We will our youth lead on to higher fields,
And draw no swords but what are sanctified.
Our navy is address'd, our power collected,
Our substitutes in absence well invested,
And every thing lies level to our wish:
Only, we want a little personal strength;
And pause us, till these rebels, now afoot,

Come underneath the yoke of government.

War. Both which, we doubt not but your majesty Shall soon enjoy.

K. Hen.

Humphrey, my son of Gloster, Where is the prince your brother?

P. Humph. I think, he's gone to hunt, my lord, at
Windsor.

K. Hen. And how accompanied?
P. Humph.

I do not know, my lord. K. Hen. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him?

P. Humph. No, my good lord; he is in presence here. Cla. What would my lord and father?

K. Hen. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Cla

rence.

How chance, thou art not with the prince thy brother?
He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas;
Thou hast a better place in his affection,
Than all thy brothers: cherish it, my boy;
And noble offices thou may'st effect
Of mediation, after I am dead,