And liquor likewise will I give to thee,

And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood:
I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me;
Is not this just? for I shall sutler be

Unto the camp,

and profits will accrue.

Give me thy hand.

Nym. I shall have my noble?

Pist. In cash most justly paid.

Nym. Well, then, that's the humour of 't.

Re-enter Hostess.

Host. As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir John. Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to

him.

Nym. The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's the even of it.

Pist. Nym, thou hast spoke the right;

His heart is fracted and corroborate.

Nym. The king is a good king: but it must be as it may; he passes some humours and careers.

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130

Pist. Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will

live.

Scene II.

Southampton. A council-chamber.

Enter Exeter, Bedford, and Westmoreland.

Bed. 'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors
Exe. They shall be apprehended by and by.

West. How smooth and even they do bear themselves!
As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.
Bed. The king hath note of all that they intend,
By interception which they dream not of.

Exe. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious
favours,

That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
His sovereign's life to death and treachery.

10

Trumpets sound. Enter King Henry, Scroop, Cambridge,
Grey, and Attendants.

K. Hen. Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of
Masham,

And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts:

Think you not that the powers we bear with us
Will cut their passage through the force of France,
Doing the execution and the act

For which we have in head assembled them?
Scroop. No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
K. Hen. I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded
We carry not a heart with us from hence

That grows not in a fair consent with ours,
Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.

21

Cam. Never was monarch better fear'd and loved
Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness

Under the sweet shade of your government.
Grey. True those that were your father's enemies
Have steep'd their galls in honey, and do serve you
With hearts create of duty and of zeal.

31

K. Hen. We therefore have great cause of thankfulness;
And shall forget the office of our hand,
Sooner than quittance of desert and merit
According to the weight and worthiness.
Scroop. So service shall with steeled sinews toil,
And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
To do your grace incessant services.

K. Hen. We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter,

Enlarge the man committed yesterday,
That rail'd against our person: we consider
It was excess of wine that set him on ;

And on his more advice we pardon him.
Scroop. That's mercy, but too much security:
Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example
Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
K. Hen. O, let us yet be merciful.

Cam. So may your highness, and yet punish too.
Grey. Sir,

40

if

you give him life,

50

You show great mercy,
After the taste of much correction.

K. Hen. Alas, your too much love and care of me
Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch!

If little faults, proceeding on distemper,

Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye
When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested,
Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man,
Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey, in their dear

care

And tender preservation of our person,

Would have him punish'd. And now to our French

causes :

Who are the late commissioners ?

60

Cam. I one, my

lord:

Your highness bade me ask for it to-day.

Scroop. So did you me, my liege.

Grey. And I, my royal sovereign.

K. Hen. Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours;

Cam.

There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sirknight,
Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours:

Read them; and know, I know your worthiness.
My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter, 70
We will aboard to-night. Why, how now, gentlemen!
What see you
in those
papers that you lose
So much complexion? Look ye, how they change!
Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you
there,
That hath so cowarded and chased your blood

Out of appearance?

I do confess my fault;

And do submit me to your highness' mercy.

Grey. To which we all appeal.

Scroop.

K. Hen. The mercy that was quick in us but late,

By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd:
You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy;
For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,
As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.
See you, my princes and my noble peers,

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