And therefore will he wipe his tables clean,

And keep no tell-tale to his memory

That may repeat and history his loss

To new remembrance; for full well he knows

He cannot so precisely weed this land

As his misdoubts present occasion.

His foes are so enrooted with his friends

That, plucking to unfix an enemy,

He doth unfasten so and shake a friend;

So that this land, like an offensive wife

That hath enraged him on to offer strokes,

As he is striking, holds his infant up, 210

And hangs resolved correction in the arm

That was upreared to execution.

HASTINGS

Besides, the King hath wasted all his rods

On late offenders, that he now doth lack

The very instruments of chastisement;

So that his power, like to a fangless lion,

May offer, but not hold.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK ’Tis very true.

And therefore be assured, 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.

MOWBRAY Be it so.

Enter Westmorland

Here is returned my lord of Westmorland.

WESTMORLAND

The Prince is here at hand. Pleaseth your lordship

To meet his grace just distance ’tween our armies?

MOWBRAY

Your grace of York, in God’s name then set forward.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

Before, and greet his grace!—My lord, we come.

⌈They march over the stage.⌉

Enter Prince John ⌈with one or more soldiers

carrying wind⌉

PRINCE JOHN

You are well encountered 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 showed 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 mischiefs 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, th‘imagined voice of God himself,é

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 heav’n

As a false favourite doth his prince’s name

In deeds dishonourable? You have ta’en 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 upswarmèd them.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Good my lord of Lancaster,

I am not here against your father’s peace;

But, as I told my lord of Westmorland,

The time misordered doth, in common sense,

Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form, 260

To hold our safety up. I sent your grace

The parcels and particulars of our grief,

The which hath been with scorn shoved from the

court,

Whereon this Hydra son of war is born;

Whose dangerous eyes may well be charmed asleep

With grant of our most just and right desires,

And true obedience, of this madness cured,

Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.

MOWBRAY

If not, we ready are to try our fortunes

To the last man.

HASTINGS 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.

PRINCE JOHN

You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow,

To sound the bottom of the after-times.

WESTMORLAND

Pleaseth your grace to answer them directly

How far forth you do like their articles?

PRINCE JOHN

I like them all, and do allow them well, 280

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.

(To the Archbishop)

My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redressed;

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.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

I take your princely word for these redresses.

⌈PRINCE JOHN⌉

I give it you, and will maintain my word;

And thereupon I drink unto your grace.