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A Forest in Yorkshire.

A March-then a Parley.

Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF York, MowBRAY,

Hastings, and other GentLEMEN, meeting
WestMORELAND, GOWER, and other Gentle-


West. Health and fair greeting from our general, The Prince, Lord John of Lancaster. Archb. Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in

peace ; What doth concern your coming ?

West. Then, my lord, Unto your grace do I in chief address The substance of my speech. If that rebellion Came like itself, in base and abject routs, Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage, And countenanc'd by boys, and beggary; I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd, In his true, native, and most proper shape, You, reverend father, and these noble lords, Had not been here, to dress the ugly form Of base and bloody insurrection With your fair honours. You, Lord Archbishop, Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd ; Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd; 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?

It shall appear

Archb. I have in equal balance justly weigh'd What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we

And find our griefs heavier than our offences.
We 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 deny'd access unto his person
Even by those men, that most have done us wrong.

West. When ever yet was your appeal deny'd ?
Wherein have you been galled by the king?
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


demands are just,
You shall enjoy them; every thing set off,
'That might so much as think you enemies.

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

West. Mowbray, you over-ween, 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.

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 generals name:

I muse, you make so slight a question.
Archb. Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this

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. Archb. My lord, we will do so. [Trumpets sound.

Gower, and other GENTLEMEN.
Morb. 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

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.
Archb. No, no, my lord ; Note this,--the king is


Of dainty and such picking grievances :
His foes are so enrooted with his friends,
That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
He doth unfasten so, and shake a friend.

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.

Archb. 'Tis very true ;-
And therefore be assurd, 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,

[Trumpets sound a Parley.] Here is return'd my Lord of Westmoreland.

Enter WESTMORELAND. West. The prince is here at hand: Pleascth your

lordship, To meet his grace just distance 'tween our armies ?

Archb. Before, and greet his grace :—my lord, we


[Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.- Exeunt WESTMORELAND,

the ARCHBISHOP, MOWBRAY, HASTINGS, and their Friends,


Another Part of the Forest.

Trumpets sound a Parley.

Enter on one side, the ARCHBISHOP, MOWBRAY,

Hastings, and Other GENTLEMEN :—from the
other Side, Prince JOHN OF LANCASTER, West-
P. John. You are well encounter'd here, my cou.

sin 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.

Archb. My Lord of Lancaster, 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.

Mowb. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes To the last man. West. Pleaseth your grace, to answer them di

rectly, How far forth you do like their articles ?

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