West. When euer yet was your Appeale deny'd? Wherein haue you beene galled by the King? What Peere hath beene suborn'd, to grate on you, That you should seale this lawlesse bloody Booke Of forg'd Rebellion, with a Seale diuine? Bish. My Brother generall, the Common-wealth, I make my Quarrell, in particular
West. There is no neede of any such redresse: Or if there were, it not belongs to you
Mow. Why not to him in part, and to vs all, That feele the bruizes of the dayes before, And suffer the Condition of these Times To lay a heauie and vnequall Hand vpon our Honors? West. O my good Lord Mowbray, Construe the Times to their Necessities, And you shall say (indeede) it is the Time, And not the King, that doth you iniuries. Yet for your part, it not appeares to me, Either from the King, or in the present Time, That you should haue an ynch of any ground To build a Griefe on: were you not restor'd To all the Duke of Norfolkes Seignories, Your Noble, and right well-remembred Fathers? Mow. What thing, in Honor, had my Father lost, That need to be reuiu'd, and breath'd in me? The King that lou'd him, as the State stood then, Was forc'd, perforce compell'd to banish him: And then, that Henry Bullingbrooke and hee Being mounted, and both rowsed in their Seates, Their neighing Coursers daring of the Spurre, Their armed Staues in charge, their Beauers downe, Their eyes of fire, sparkling through sights of Steele, And the lowd Trumpet blowing them together: Then, then, when there was nothing could haue stay'd My Father from the Breast of Bullingbrooke; O, when the King did throw his Warder downe, (His owne Life hung vpon the Staffe hee threw) Then threw hee downe himselfe, and all their Liues, That by Indictment, and by dint of Sword, Haue since mis-carryed vnder Bullingbrooke
West. You speak (Lord Mowbray) now you know not what. The Earle of Hereford was reputed then In England the most valiant Gentleman. Who knowes, on whom Fortune would then haue smil'd? But if your Father had beene Victor there, Hee ne're had borne it out of Couentry. For all the Countrey, in a generall voyce, Cry'd hate vpon him: and all their prayers, and loue, Were set on Herford, whom they doted on, And bless'd, and grac'd, and did more then the King. But this is meere digression from my purpose. Here come I from our Princely Generall, To know your Griefes; to tell you, from his Grace, That hee will giue you Audience: and wherein It shall appeare, that your demands are iust, You shall enioy them, euery thing set off, That might so much as thinke you Enemies
Mow. But hee hath forc'd vs to compell this Offer, And it proceedes from Pollicy, not Loue
West. Mowbray, you ouer-weene to take it so: This Offer comes from Mercy, not from Feare. For loe, within a Ken our Army lyes, Vpon mine Honor, all too confident To giue admittance to a thought of feare. Our Battaile is more full of Names then yours, Our Men more perfect in the vse of Armes, Our Armor all as strong, our Cause the best; Then Reason will, our hearts should be as good. Say you not then, our Offer is compell'd
Mow. Well, by my will, wee shall admit no Parley
West. That argues but the shame of your offence: A rotten Case abides no handling
Hast. Hath the Prince Iohn a full Commission, In very ample vertue of his Father, To heare, and absolutely to determine Of what Conditions wee shall stand vpon? West. That is intended in the Generals Name: I muse you make so slight a Question