To all the Duke of Norfolk's Seigniories,

Your noble and right-well-remember'd father's?
Mowb. What thing, in honour, had my father loft,
That need to be reviv'd and breath'd in me?
The King, that lov'd him, as the State ftood then,
Was, force perforce, compell'd to banish him.
And then, when Harry Bolingbroke and he
Being mounted and both rowsed in their seats,
Their neighing Courfers daring of the spur,
Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down,
Their eyes of fire fparkling through fights of steel,
And the loud trumpet blowing them together;
Then, then, when there was nothing could have staid
My father from the breaft 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, or by dint of sword,
Have fince mifcarried under Bolingbroke.
Weft. You fpeak, lord Mowbray, now, you
not what.

The Earl of Hereford was reputed then

In England the most valiant gentleman.

know

Who knows, on whom fortune would then have fmil'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

Cry'd hate upon him; all their prayers and love
Were fet on Hereford, whom they doted on,

And blefs'd, and grac'd, (a) indeed, more than the
King.

But this is mere digreffion 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,

[(a) indeed. Dr. Thirlby.-Vulg. and did. ]

It fhall appear that your demands are just,
You shall enjoy them; every thing set off,
That might fo much as think you enemies.

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

Weft. 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 battel is more full of names than
yours,
Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
Our armour all as ftrong, our cause the best;
Then reason wills, our hearts fhould be as good.
Say you not then, our offer is compell'd.

Mowb. Well; by my will, we shall admit no parley. Weft. That argues but the fhame of your offence: A rotten case abides no handling.

Haft. Hath the Prince John a full commiffion, In very ample virtue of his father,

To hear and abfolutely to determine

Of what conditions we fhall ftand upon?

Weft. That is intended in the General's name :

I mufe, you make fo flight a queftion.

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 caufe, both here and hence,
That are infinewed to this action,

I

Acquitted by a true fubftantial form;

And prefent executions of our wills

I

by a true fubftantial form ;] This feems to be intended only as a quibbling joke upon a school term; as much as to fay, fubftantial forms can do every thing in the schools ; but out of them, the true fubflantial form is a pardon under the broad

feal.

To

To us, and to our properties, confin'd; 3 We come within our lawful banks again, And knit our powers to the arm of peace.

Weft. This will I fhew the General. Please you, lords, In fight of both our battles, we may meet;

(a) And either end in peace, (which heav'n fo frame!) Or to the place of difference call the fwords, Which muft decide it.

York. My lord, we will do fo.

SCENE III.

[Exit Weft.

Mowb. There is a thing within my bofom tells me, That no conditions of our peace can stand.

Haft. Fear you not that: if we can make our peace Upon fuch large terms and fo abfolute,

As our conditions fhall infift upon,

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
Mowb. Ay, but our valuation fhall be fuch,
That ev'ry flight and falfe-derived cause,
Yea, ev'ry idle, nice and wanton reason,
Shall to the King taste of this action.

2 To us, and to our PURPOSES, confin'd;] This schedule we fee confifts of three parts, 1. A redress of general grievances. 2. A pardon for thofe in arms. 3. Some demands of advantage for them. But this third part is very strangely expreffed.

And prefent execution of our wills

To us and to our PURPOSES confin'd.

The first line fhews they had fomething to demand, and the second expreffes the modefty of that demand. The demand, fays the fpeaker, is confined to us and to our purposes. A very modest kind of restriction truly! only as extenfive as their appetites and pasfions. Without question Shakespear wrote,

To us and to our PROPERTIES confin'd;

2. e. we defire no more than fecurity for our liberties and properties and this was no unreasonable demand.

3 We come within our AWFUL banks again,] We should read

LAWFUL.

[(a) and. Dr. Thirlby.-Vulg. at. ]

That,

That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,
We shall be winnow'd with fo rough a wind,
That ev❜n our corn fhall feem as light as chaff,
And good from bad find no partition.

York. No, no, my lord, note this; the King is weary Of dainty and fuch picking grievances:

For he hath found, to end one doubt by death,
Revives two greater in the heirs of life.

4

And therefore will he wipe his tables clean,
And keep no tell-tale to his memory,
That may repeat and history his lofs

To new remembrance. For full well he knows,
He cannot fo precifely weed this land,
As his misdoubts prefent occafion
His foes are fo enrooted with his friends,
That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
He doth unfaften fo and shake a friend.
So that this Land, like an offensive wife,
That hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes,
As he is ftriking, holds his infant up,
And hangs refolv'd correction in the arm
That was uprear'd to execution.

Haft. Befides, the King hath wafted all his rods
On late offenders, that he now doth lack

The very instruments of chastisement:

So that his pow'r, like to a fangless Lion,

May offer, but not hold.

York. 'Tis very true:

And therefore be affur'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 fo.

Here is return'd my lord of Westmorland.

4-wipe his tablet clean,] Alluding to a table-book of flate, ivory, &c.

VOL. IV.

T

Enter

Enter Weftmorland.

Weft. The Prince is here at hand: pleaseth your lordship

To meet his Grace, juft diftance 'tween our armies? Mowb. Your Grace of York in God's name then fet forward.

York. Before, and greet his Grace; my lord, we come.

S CE

NE

Enter Prince John of Lancaster.

IV.

Lan. You're well encounter'd here, my coufin
Mowbray;

Good day to you, my gentle lord Arch-bishop,
And fo to you, lord Haftings, and to all.
My lord of York, it better fhew'd with you,
When that your flock, affembled by the bell,
Encircled you, to hear with reverence
Your expofition on the holy text;
Than now to fee you here an iron man,
Cheering a rout of Rebels with your drum,
Turning the word to fword, and life to death.
That man, that fits within a monarch's heart,
And ripens in the fun-fhine of his favour,
Would he abuse the count'nance of the King,
Alack, what mischiefs might he fet abroach,
In fhadow of fuch Greatnefs? With you, lord Bifhop,
It is ev'n fo. Who hath not heard it spoken,
How deep you were within the books of heav'n?
To us, the Speaker in his Parliament:

To us, th' imagin'd voice of heav'n it felf;
The very opener, and intelligencer
Between the grace, the fanctities of heav'n,
And our dull workings. O, who fhall believe
But you mifufe the rev'rence of your place,
Employ the countenance and grace of heav'n,

As