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 graced 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. MOWBRAY But he hath forced us to compel this offer;And it proceeds from policy, not love. WESTMORELAND 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 will our heart should be as good Say you not then our offer is compell'd. MOWBRAY Well, by my will we shall admit no parley. WESTMORELAND That argues but the shame of your offence:
A rotten case abides no handling. HASTINGS 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? WESTMORELAND That is intended in the general's name:
I muse you make so slight a question. ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 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 confined, We come within our awful banks again And knit our powers to the arm of peace. WESTMORELAND This will I show the general. Please you, lords, In sight of both our battles we may meet;And either end in peace, which God so frame!
Or to the place of difference call the swords Which must decide it. ARCHBISHOP OF YORK My lord, we will do so.
Exit WESTMORELAND MOWBRAY There is a thing within my bosom tells me That no conditions of our peace can stand. HASTINGS 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. MOWBRAY Yea, 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. ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 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 enraged him on to offer strokes, As he is striking, holds his infant up And hangs resolved correction in the arm That was uprear'd to execution. HASTINGS 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. ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 'Tis very true:
And therefore be assured, 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. MOWBRAY Be it so.
Here is return'd my Lord of Westmoreland.
Re-enter WESTMORELAND WESTMORELAND The prince is here at hand: pleaseth your lordship To meet his grace just distance 'tween our armies. MOWBRAY Your grace of York, in God's name then, set forward. ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Before, and greet his grace: my lord, we come.
Exeunt SCENE II. Another part of the forest. Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, attended; afterwards the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, HASTINGS, and others: from the other side, Prince John of LANCASTER, and WESTMORELAND; Officers, and others with them LANCASTER 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 abrooch 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 imagined voice of God himself;
