Weft. Pleaseth your grace to anfwere them directly,
How far forth you do like their articles.

Prince. I like them all, and do allow them well,
And fweare here by the honour of my bloud,
My fathers purposes haue beene mistooke,
And fome about him haue too lauishly,
Wrested his meaning and authority.

My lord, these griefes fhall be with speed redreft,
Vppon my foule they fhal, if this may please you,
Discharge your powers vnto their feuerall counties,
As we will ours, and here betweene the armies,
Lets drinke together friendly and embrace,
That all their eies may beare thofe tokens home,
Of our restored loue and amitie.

Bishop. I take your princely word for these redresses,
I giue it you, and will maintaine my word,
And therevpon I drinke vnto your grace.

Prince. Go captaine, and deliuer to the armie
This newes of peace, let them haue pay, and part.
I know it will well please them, hie thee captaine.
Bishop. To you my noble lord of Westmerland.

Weft. I pledge your grace, and if you knew what paines, I haue bestowed to breed this prefent peace, You would drinke freely, but my loue to ye Shall fhew it felfe more openly hereafter. Bishop. I do not doubt you.

Weft. I am glad of it,

Health to my lord, and gentle cofin Mowbray.
Mow. You wish me health in very happy season,
For I am on the fodaine fomething ill.

Bishop. Againft ill chaunces men are euer mery,
But heauineffe fore-runnes the good euent.

Weft. Therefore be mery coze, fince fodaine forrow Serues to fay thus, fome good thing comes to morow.

Bishop.

Bishop. Beleeue me I am paffing light in spirit.

Mow. So much the worse if your owne rule be true.

Shout.

Prin. The word of peace is rendred, heark how they showt.
Mow. This had bin cheerefull after victory.

Bishop. A peace is of the nature of a conquest,
For then both parties nobly are fubdued,
And neither party loofer.

Prince. Go my lord,

And let our army be discharged too,

And, good my lord, so please you, let our traines
March by vs, that we may peruse the men,
We should haue coap't withall.

Bishop. Go, good-lord Haftings,

And ere they be difmift, let them march by.

Enter Westmerland.

Prince. I trust lords we shal lie to night togither:
Now coofin, wherefore ftands our army stil?

Weft. The leaders hauing charge from you to ftand,
Wil not goe off vntil they heare you speake.
Prince. They know their dueties.

Enter Haftings.

Haftings. My lord, our army is disperst already,
Like youthfull steeres vnyoakt they take their courses,
East, weaft, north, fouth, or like a schoole broke vp,
Each hurries toward his home, and sporting place.

Weft. Good tidings my lord Haftings, for the which
I do areft thee traitor of high treafon,
And you lord archbishop, and you lord Mowbray,
Of capitall treafon I attach you both.

Mowbray. Is this proceeding iuft and honorable ?

Weft.

Weft. Is your affembly fo?

Bishop. Will you thus breake your faith?
Prince. I pawnde thee none,

I promist you redresse of these fame grieuances
Whereof you did complaine, which by mine honour
I will performe, with a moft christian care.
But for you rebels, looke to tafte the due
Meete for rebellion :

Most shallowly did you these armes commence,
Fondly brought heere, and foolishly fent hence.
Strike vp our drummes, pursue the scattred stray :
God, and not we, hath fafely fought to day:
Some guard this traitour to the blocke of death,
Treafons true bed, and yeelder vp of breath.

Alarum. Enter Falstaffe.

Excurfions.

Fal. Whats your name fir, of what condition are you, and of what place?

Cole. I am a knight fir, and my name is Coleuile of the dale. Fal. Well then, Colleuile is your name, a knight is your de gree, and your place the dale: Coleuile fhall be ftill your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place, a place deep enough, fo fhall you be ftil Colleuile of the dale.

Colle. Are not you fir Iohn Falstaffe?

Fal. As good a man as he fir, who ere I am: doe ye yeelde fir, or fhall I fweat for you? if I doe fweate, they are the drops of thy louers, and they weepe for thy death, therefore rowze vp feare and trembling, and do obferuance to my mercie.

Colle. I think you are fir Iohn Falstaffe, and in that thought yeelde me.

Fal. I haue a whole fchool of tongues in this belly of mine, and not a tongue of them all speakes any other word but my name, and I had but a belly of any indifferencie, I were fimply

the

the most actiuc fellow in Europe: my womb, my wombe, my womb vndoes me, heere comes our generall.

Enter Iohn Weftmerland, and the reft. Retraite.
Iohn. The heate is paft, follow no further now,
Call in the powers good coofin Weftmerland.
Now Falstaffe, where haue you beene all this while?
When euery thing is ended, then you come :
Thefe tardy trickes of yours wil on my life
One time or other breake some gallowes backe.

Fal. I would bee fory my lord, but it fhoulde bee thus: I neuer knew yet but rebuke and checke, was the rewarde of valor do you thinke me a fwallow, an arrow, or a bullet? haue I in my poore and old motion the expedition of thought? I haue fpeeded hither with the very extreameft inch of poffibility, I haue foundred ninefcore and od poftes, and here trauell tainted as I am, haue in my pure and immaculate valour, taken fir John Colleuile of the dale, a moft furious knight and valorous enemy, but what of that? he fawe me, and yeelded, that I may iuftly fay with the hooke-nofde fellow of Rome, there cofin, I came, faw, and ouercame.

Iohn. It was more of his curtefie then your deferuing.

Falst. I know not, here he is, and here I yeeld him, and I befeech your grace let it be bookte with the reft of this daies deedes, or by the Lord, I will haue it in a particular ballad elfe, with mine owne picture on the top on't, (Coleuile kissing my foote) to the which courfe, if I bee enforft, if you doe not all fhew like guilt twoo pences to mee, and I in the cleere fkie of fame, ore-fhine you as much as the full moone doth the cindars of the element, (which fhew like pinnes heads to her) beleeue not the worde of the noble: therefore let me haue right, and let defert mount.

Prince. Thine's too heauy to mount.
Falft. Let it fhine then,

Prince.

Prince. Thines too thicke to shine.

Falft. Let it doe fome thing, my good lord, that may doe me good, and call it what you will.

Prince. Is thy name Colleuile?

Col. It is my lord.

Prince. A famous rebell art thou Colleuile. Falst. And a famous true fubiect tooke him. Col. I am my lord but as my betters are, That led me hither, had they bin rulde by me,

You should haue wonne them deerer then you haue.

Fal. I know not how they fold themfelues, but thou like a kind fellow gaueft thy felfe away gratis, and I thanke thee for

thee.

Enter Weftmerland.

Prince. Now, haue you left purfuit?

Weft. Retraite is made, and execution stayd.
Prince. Send Colleuile with his confederates

To Torke, to present execution,

Blunt leade him hence, and fee you guard him fure.
And now dispatch we toward the court my lordes,
I heare the king my father is fore fick,

Our newes fhall go before vs to his maiestie,
Which cofin you fhal beare to comfort him,

And we with fober fpeede will follow you.

Falft. My lord, I beseech you giue me leaue to go through Glofterfbire, and when you come to court, ftand my good lord in your good report.

Prince. Fare you wel Falstaffe, I, in my condition, shal better fpeake of you then you deferue.

Fal. I would you had the wit, twere better than your dukedome, good faith this fame yong fober blouded boy doth not loue me, nor a ma c.not make him laugh, but thats no maruel, he drinkes no wine, theres neuer none of these demure

boyes