Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd;
Whose learning and good letters peace bath tutor'd;
Whose white investments figure innocence,
The dove and very blessed spirit of peace,-
Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself,
Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace,
Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war?
Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood,
Your pens to lances; and your tongue divine
To a loud trumpet, and a point of war?

Arch. Wherefore do I this?-so the question

stands.

Briefly to this end :-We are all diseas'd; And, with our surfeiting, and wanton hours, Have brought ourselves into a burning fever, And we must bleed for it: of which disease Our late king, Richard, being infected, died. But, my most noble lord of Westmoreland, I take not on me here as a physician; Nor do I, as an enemy to peace, Troop in the throngs of military men: But, rather, show a while like fearful war, To diet rank minds, sick of happiness; And purge the obstructions, which begin to stop Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly. I have in equal balance justly weigh'd

What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer,

And find our griefs heavier than our offences. We see which way the stream of time doth run, And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere By the rough torrent of occasion: And have the summary of all our griefs, When time shall serve, to show in articles; Which, long ere this, we offer'd to the king, And might by no suit gain our audience: When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs, We are denied access unto his person, Even by those men, that most have done us wrong. The dangers of the days but newly gone, (Whose memory is written on the earth With yet appearing blood,) and the examples Of every minute's instance, (present now,) Have put us in these ill-beseeming arms: Not to break peace, or any branch of it; But to establish here a peace indeed, Concurring both in name and quality.

West. When ever yet was your appeal denied? Wherein have you been galled by the king? What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you? That you should seal this lawless bloody book Of forg'd rebellion with a seal divine, And consecrate commotion's bitter edge?

Arch. My brother general, the commonwealth, To brother born an household cruelty,

I make my quarrel in particular.

West. There is no need of any such redress; Or, if there were, it not belongs to you. Mob. Why not to him, in part; and to us all, That feel the bruises of the days before; And suffer the condition of these times To lay a heavy and unequal hand Upon our honours?

West. O my good lord Mowbray, Construe the times to their necessities, And you shall say indeed,-it is the time, And not the king, that doth you injuries. Yet, for your part, it not appears to me, Either from the king, or in the present time, That you should have an inch of any ground To build a grief on: Were you not restor'd To all the duke of Norfolk's signiories, Your noble and right-well-remember'd father's? Mowb. What thing, in honour, had my father lost, That need to be reviv'd and breath'd in me? The king, that lov'd him, as the state stood then, Was, force perforce, compell'd to banish him : And then, when Harry Bolingbroke, and he,Being mounted, and both roused in their seats,

Their neighing coursers, daring of the spur,
Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down,
Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel,
And the loud trumpet blowing them together;
Then, then, when there was nothing could have staid
My father from the breast of Bolingbroke,
O, when the king did throw his warder down,
His own life hung upon the staff he threw;
Then threw he down himself; and all their lives,
That, by indictment, and by dint of sword,
Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke.

West. You speak, lord Mowbray, now you know
not what;

The earl of Hereford was reputed then
In England the most valiant gentleman;
Who knows, on whom fortune would then have
smil'd?

But if your father had been victor there,
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; every thing set off,
That might so much as think you enemies.

Moub. 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 wills, 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. 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 West.
Mowb. There is a thing within my bosom, tells me,
That no conditions of our peace caa stand.
Hast. Fear you not that: if we can make our peace
Upon such large terms, and so absolue,
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.

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

Mowb.

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? 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 Fores 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 shew'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 misase 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.

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; [court, The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the 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 shallow,

To sound the bottom of the after-times. Ly, West. Pleaseth your grace, to answer them directHow 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 into 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. [dresses.

Arck. I take your princely word for these reP. 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 shew 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. [sorrow West. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden Serves to say thus,-Some good thing comes to

:

wards 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, muster me all to their captain, the heart; who, great, and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage; 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 hath, like lean, steril, and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with excellent endeavour of drinking 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.

with him?

K. Hen. And how accompanied?
P. Humph.
I do not know, my lord.
K. Hen. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence,
[here.
P. Humph. No, my good lord; he is in presence
Cla. What would my lord and father?
K. Hen. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of
Clarence.
[brother?
How chance, thou art not with the prince thy
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,

Between his greatness and thy other brethren :-
Therefore, omit him not; blunt not his love:
Nor lose the good advantage of his grace,
By seeming cold, or careless of his will.
For he is gracious, if he be observ'd;
He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as day for melting charity:

Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint;
As humorous as winter, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd:
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth:
But, being moody, give him line and scope;
Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,

Confound themselves with working. Learn this,
Thomas,
And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends;
A hoop of gold, to bind thy brothers in;
That the united vessel of their blood,
Mingled with venom of suggestion,
(As, force perforce, the age will pour it in,)
Shall never leak, though it do work as strong
As aconitum, or rash gunpowder.

Cla. I shall observe him with all care and love.
K. Hen. Why art thou not at Windsor with him,
Thomas?

Cla. He is not there to-day; he dines in London. K. Hen. And how accompanied? canst thou tell that? [lowers.

Cla. With Poins, and other his continual folK.Hen. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds; And he, the noble image of my youth,

Is overspread with them: Therefore my grief
Stretches itself beyond the hour of death;
The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape,
In forms imaginary, the unguided days,
And rotten times, that you shall look upon
When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
When rage and hot blood are his counsellors,
When means and lavish manners meet together,
O, with what wings shall his affections fly
Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay!

War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him The prince but studies his companions, [quite: Like a strange tongue: wherein, to gain the language,

'Tis needful, that the most immodest word
Be look'd upon, and learn'd: which once attain'd,
Your highness knows, comes to no further use,
But to be known, and hated. So, like gross terms,
The prince will, in the perfectness of time,
Cast off his followers: and their memory
Shall as a pattern or a measure live,
By which his grace must mete the lives of others;
Turning past evils to advantages. [her comb
K. Hen. 'Tis seldom, when the bee doth leave
In the dead carrion.-Who's here? Westmoreland?
Enter WESTMORELAND.

West. Health to my sovereign! and new happiness Added to that, that I am to deliver!

Prince John, your son, doth kiss your grace's hand:
Mowbray, the bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of your law;
There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd,
The manner how this action hath been borne,
But peace puts forth her olive every where.
Here at more leisure may your highness read;
With every course, in his particular.

[bird,

K. Hen. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer Which ever in the haunch of winter sings

The lifting up of day. Look! here's more news.

Enter HARCOURT.

Har. From enemies heaven keep your majesty;
And, when they stand against you, may they fall
As those that I am come to tell you of!
The earl Northumberland, and the lord Bardolph,
With a great power of English, and of Scots,
Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown:
The manner and true order of the fight,
This packet, please it you, contains at large.
K. Hen. And wherefore should these good news
make me sick?

Will fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
She either gives a stomach, and no food,-
Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast,
And takes away the stomach,-such are the rich,
That have abundance, and enjoy it not.

I should rejoice now at this happy news;
And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy :-
O me! come near me, now I am much ill. (Swoons.)