Enter the Mayor of London, attended. May. O, my good lords,—and virtuous Henry,— Pity the city of London, pity us! The bishop and the duke of Glo'ster's men, Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble-stones; That many have their giddy brains knock'd out: Enter, skirmishing, the retainers of Glo'ster and Winchester, with bloody pates. K. Hen. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, To hold your slaught'ring hands, and keep the Pray, uncle Glo'ster, mitigate this strife. 1 Serv. Nay, if we be Forbidden stones, we'll fall to it with our teeth, 2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [Skirmish again. Glo. You of my household, leave this peevish broil, And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. 3 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a man Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, Inferior to none, but his majesty: And, ere that we will suffer such a prince, So kind a father of the commonweal, To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate, We, and our wives, and children, all will fight, 1 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails Shall pitch a field, when we are dead. Glo. And, if you [Skirmish again. Stay, stay, I say! love me, as you say you do, Let me persuade you to forbear a-while. K. Hen. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul! Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold My sighs and tears, and will not once relent? Or who should study to prefer a peace, War. My lord protector, yield;-yield Winchester; Except you mean, with obstinate repulse, stoop; Or, I would see his heart out, ere the priest Should ever get that privilege of me. War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the duke Hath banish'd moody discontented fury, As by his smoothed brows it doth appear: Why look you still so stern, and tragical? Glo. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. K. Hen. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach, That malice was a great and grievous sin: War. Sweet king!-the bishop hath a kindly gird. For shame, my lord of Winchester! relent; Win. Well, duke of Glo'ster, I will yield to thee; Love for thy love, and hand for hand I give. Glo. Ay; but, I fear me, with a hollow heart.— See here, my friends, and loving countrymen; This token serveth for a flag of truce, Betwixt ourselves, and all our followers: So help me God, as I dissemble not! Win. So help me God, as I intend it not! [Aside. K. Hen. O loving uncle, kind duke of Glo'ster, How joyful am I made by this contráct! Away, my masters! trouble us no more; But join in friendship, as your lords have done. 1 Serv. Content; I'll to the surgeon's. 2 Serv. And so will I. 3 Serv. And I will see what physick the tavern affords. [Exeunt Servants, Mayor, &c. War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sove reign; Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet Glo. Well urg'd, my lord of Warwick;-for, sweet prince, An if your grace mark every circumstance, At Eltham-place I told your majesty. K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of force: Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is, War. Let Richard be restored to his blood, That doth belong unto the house of York, And, in reguerdon of that duty done, may fall! I girt thee with the valiant sword of York: York! Som. Perish, base prince, ignoble duke of York'! [Aside. Glo. Now will it best avail your majesty, Amongst his subjects, and his loyal friends; K. Hen. When Glo'ster says the word, king Henry. goes; For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. Glo. Your ships already are in readiness. [Exeunt all but Exeter. Exe. Ay, we may march in England, or in France, Not seeing what is likely to ensue: This late dissention, grown betwixt the peers, [Exit. |