Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch. Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye, When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested, Appear before us?—We'll yet enlarge that man, Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey,-in their dear care, And tender preservation of our person, Would have him punish'd. And now to our French causes; Who are the late commissioners? Cam. I one, my lord; Your highness bade me ask for it to-day. Scroop. So did you me, my liege. Grey. And me, my royal sovereign. K. Hen. Then, Richard, earl of Cambridge, there is yours; There yours, lord Scroop of Masham;-and, sir knight, Read them; and know, I know your worthiness.— So much complexion?-look ye, how they change! Out of appearance? Cam. I do confess my fault; And do submit me to your highness' mercy. K. Hen. The mercy, that was quick in us but late, For your own reasons turn into your bosoms, These English monsters! My lord of Cambridge here,― You know, how apt our love was, to accord Could out of thee extract one spark of evil. And other devil's, that suggest by treasons, With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd But he, that temper'd thee, bade thee stand up, If that same dæmon, that hath gull'd thee thus, The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful? Exe. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Richard earl of Cambridge. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry lord Scroop of Masham. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, knight of Northumberland. Scroop. Our purposes God justly hath discover'd; And I repent my fault, more than my death; Which I beseech your highness to forgive, Although my body pay the price of it. Cam. For me, the gold of France did not seduce; Although I did admit it as a motive, The sooner to effect what I intended:: But God be thanked for prevention; Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,. Beseeching God, and you, to pardon me. Grey. Never did faithful subject more rejoice At the discovery of most dangerous treason, Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself, Prevented from a damned enterprize: My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. K. Hen. God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence. You have conspir'd against our royal person, Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his coffers Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death; Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, His subjects to oppression and contempt, Patience to endure, and true repentance Of all your dear offences!-Bear them hence. [Exeunt Conspirators, guarded. Now, lords, for France; the enterprize whereof Shall be to you, as us, like glorious. We doubt not of a fair and lucky war; Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-London. Mrs. Quickly's house in Eastcheap. Enter PISTOL, Mrs. QUICKLY, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy. Quick. Pr'ythee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. Pist. No; for my manly heart doth yearn. Bardolph, be blithe;-Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins; Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, And we must yearn therefore. Bard. 'Would, I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven, or in hell! Quick. Nay, sure, he's not in hell; he's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. 'A made a finer end, and went away, an it had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelve and one, e'en at turning o'th'tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his |