For let the king know, gentle heralds, truly,
How his descent from his great throne, to honour
A stranger subject with so high a title

As his compeer in arms, hath conquer'd more
Than any sword could do; for which (my loyalty
Respected) I will serve his virtues ever

In all humility: but Berwick, say,

Is none of mine to part with. In affairs
Of princes, subjects cannot traffic rights
Inherent to the crown. My life is mine,
That I dare freely hazard; and (with pardon
To some unbribed vain-glory) if his majesty
Shall taste a change of fate, his liberty
Shall meet no articles. If I fall, falling
So bravely, I refer me to his pleasure
Without condition; and for this dear favour,
Say, if not countermanded, I will cease
Hostility, unless provoked.

March. This answer

We shall repeat unpartially.

Dur. With favour,

Pray have a little patience.-[Apart to SURREY.]

Sir, you
find

By these gay flourishes, how wearied travail
Inclines to willing rest; here's but a prologue,
However confidently utter'd, meant

For some ensuing acts of peace: consider
The time of year, unseasonableness of weather,
Charge, barrenness of profit; and occasion,
Presents itself for honourable treaty,

Which we may make good use of; I will back,

As sent from you, in point of noble gratitude Unto king James, with these his heralds; you, Shall shortly hear from me, my lord, for order Of breathing or proceeding; and king Henry, Doubt not, will thank the service.

Sur. To your wisdom,

Lord bishop, I refer it.

Dur. Be it so then.

Sur. Heralds, accept this chain, and these few

crowns.

March. Our duty, noble general.
Dur. In part

Of retribution for such princely love,
My lord the general is pleased to shew
The king your master his sincerest zeal,
By further treaty, by no common man;
I will myself return with you.

Sur. You oblige

My faithfullest affections to you, lord bishop.
March. All happiness attend your lordship!
Sur. Come, friends,

And fellow-soldiers; we, I doubt, shall meet
No enemies but woods and hills, to fight with;
Then 'twere as good to feed and sleep at home:
We may be free from danger, not secure.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Scottish Camp.

Enter WARBECK and FRION.

War. Frion, oh Frion, all my hopes of glory Are at a stand! the Scottish king grows dull, Frosty, and wayward, since this Spanish agent Hath mix'd discourses with him; they are private, I am not call'd to council now ;-confusion On all his crafty shrugs! I feel the fabric Of my designs are tottering.

Fri. Henry's policies

Stir with too many engines.

War. Let his mines,

Shaped in the bowels of the earth, blow up
Works rais'd for my defence, yet can they never
Toss into air the freedom of my birth,
Or disavow my blood Plantagenet's!

I am my father's son still. But, oh Frion,
When I bring into count with my disasters,
My wife's compartnership, my Kate's, my
Then, then my frailty feels an earthquake. Mis-

chief

life's,

Damn Henry's plots! I will be England's king,
Or let my aunt of Burgundy report

My fall in the attempt deserv'd our ancestors!
Fri. You grow too wild in passion; if
you will
Appear a prince indeed, confine your will
To moderation.

War. What a saucy rudeness

Prompts this distrust? If? If I will appear?
Appear a prince? death throttle such deceits
Even in their birth of utterance! cursed cozenage
Of trust! You make me mad; 'twere best, it
seems,

That I should turn impostor to myself,

Be mine own counterfeit, belie the truth
Of my dear mother's womb, the sacred bed
Of a prince murther'd, and a living baffled!

Fri. Nay, if you have no ears to hear, I have No breath to spend in vain.

War. Sir, sir, take heed!

Gold, and the promise of promotion, rarely
Fail in temptation.

Fri. Why to me this?

War. Nothing.

Speak what you will; we are not sunk so low
But your advice may piece again the heart
Which many cares have broken: you were wont
In all extremities to talk of comfort;

Have you none left now? I'll not interrupt you.
Good, bear with my distractions! If king James
Deny us dwelling here, next, whither must I?
I prithee, be not angry.

Fri. Sir, I told you

Of letters come from Ireland; how the Cornish Stomach their last defeat, and humbly sue That with such forces, as you could partake, You would in person land in Cornwall, where Thousands will entertain your title gladly.

War. Let me embrace thee, hug thee! thou'st

reviv'd

My comforts; if my cousin king will fail,
Our cause will never-

Enter JOHN A-WATER, HERON, ASTLEY, SKETON.

Welcome, my tried friends,

You keep your brains awake in our defence.
Frion, advise with them of these affairs,

In which be wondrous secret; I will listen
What else concerns us here: be quick and wary.

[Exit.

Ast. Ah, sweet young prince! Secretary, my fellow-counsellors and I have consulted, and jump all in one opinion directly, and if these Scotch garboils do not fadge to our minds, we will pellmell run amongst the Cornish choughs presently, and in a trice.

Sket. 'Tis but going to sea and leaping ashore, cut ten or twelve thousand unnecessary throats, fire seven or eight towns, take half a dozen cities, get into the market-place, crown him Richard the Fourth, and the business is finished.

J. a-Wat. I grant you, quoth I, so far forth, as men may do, no more than men may do; for it is good to consider, when consideration may be to the purpose, otherwise - still you shall pardon me-" little said is soon amended."

Fri. Then you conclude the Cornish action surest?

Her. We do so; and doubt not but to thrive abundantly. Ho, my masters, had we known of