Another Part of the Forest. |
| |
Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, the ARCHBISHOP, HASTINGS, and Others: from the other side, JOHN OF LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND, Officers, and Attendants. |
| Lanc. 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 mischief might he set abroach |
| 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 imagin'd voice of God himself; |
| The very opener and intelligencer |
| Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven, |
| And our dull workings. O! who shall believe |
| But you misuse the reverence of your place, |
| Employ the countenance and grace of heaven, |
| As a false favourite doth his prince's name, |
| In deeds dishonourable? You have taken up, |
| Under the counterfeited zeal of God, |
| The subjects of his substitute, my father; |
| And both against the peace of heaven and him |
| Have here upswarm'd them. |
| Arch. Good my Lord of Lancaster, |
| I am not here against your father's peace; |
| But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland, |
| The time misorder'd doth, in common sense, |
| Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form, |
| To hold our safety up. I sent your Grace |
| The parcels and particulars of our grief,— |
| The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the court,— |
| Whereon this Hydra son of war is born; |
| Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep |
| With grant of our most just and right desires, |
| And true obedience, of this madness cur'd, |
| Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty. |
| Mowb. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes |
| To the last man. |
| Hast. And though we here fall down, |
| We have supplies to second our attempt: |
| If they miscarry, theirs shall second them; |
| And so success of mischief shall be born, |
| And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up |
| Whiles England shall have generation. |
| Lanc. You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow, |
| To sound the bottom of the after-times. |
| West. Pleaseth your Grace, to answer them directly |
| How far forth you do like their articles. |
| Lanc. I like them all, and do allow them well; |
| And swear here, by the honour of my blood, |
| My father's purposes have been mistook, |
| And some about him have too lavishly |
| Wrested his meaning and authority. |
| My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd; |
| Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you, |
| Discharge your powers unto their several counties, |
| As we will ours: and here between the armies |
| Let's drink together friendly and embrace, |
| That all their eyes may bear those tokens home |
| Of our restored love and amity. |
| Arch. I take your princely word for these redresses. |
| Lanc. I give it you, and will maintain my word: |
| And thereupon I drink unto your Grace. |
| Hast. [To an Officer.] Go, captain, and deliver to the army |
| This news of peace: let them have pay, and part: |
| I know it will well please them: hie thee, captain. [Exit Officer. |
| Arch. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland. |
| West. I pledge your Grace: and, if you knew what pains |
| I have bestow'd to breed this present peace, |
| You would drink freely; but my love to you |
| Shall show itself more openly hereafter. |
| Arch. I do not doubt you. |
| West. I am glad of it. |
| Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray. |
| Mowb. You wish me health in very happy season; |
| For I am, on the sudden, something ill. |
| Arch. Against ill chances men are ever merry, |
| But heaviness foreruns the good event. |
| West. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden sorrow |
| Serves to say thus, Some good thing comes to morrow. |
| Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. |
| Mowb. So much the worse if your own rule be true. [Shouts within. |
| Lanc. The word of peace is render'd: hark, how they shout! |
| Mowb. This had been cheerful, after victory. |
| Arch. A peace is of the nature of a conquest; |
| For then both parties nobly are subdu'd, |
| And neither party loser. |
| Lanc. Go, my lord, |
| And let our army be discharged too. [Exit WESTMORELAND. |
| And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains |
| March by us, that we may peruse the men |
| We should have cop'd withal. |
| Arch. Go, good Lord Hastings, |
| And, ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by. [Exit HASTINGS. |
| Lanc. I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together. |
| |
Re-enter WESTMORELAND. |
| Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still? |
| West. The leaders, having charge from you to stand, |
| Will not go off until they hear you speak. |
| Lanc. They know their duties. |
| |
Re-enter HASTINGS. |
| Hast. My lord, our army is dispers'd already: |
| Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their courses |
| East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up, |
| Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place. |
| West. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which |
| I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason: |
| And you, lord archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray, |
| Of capital treason I attach you both. |
| Mowb. Is this proceeding just and honourable? |
| West. Is your assembly so? |
| Arch. Will you thus break your faith? |
| Lanc. I pawn'd thee none. |
| I promis'd you redress of these same grievances |
| Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour, |
| I will perform with a most Christian care. |
| But for you, rebels, look to taste the due |
| Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours. |
| Most shallowly did you these arms commence, |
| Fondly brought here and foolishly sent hence. |
| Strike up our drums! pursue the scatter'd stray: |
| God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day, |
| Some guard these traitors to the block of death; |
| Treason's true bed, and yielder up of breath. [Exeunt. |
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