Prince John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, and others of the King's officers.

The Prince having received articles, or conditions, of surrender, from the malcontents, promises to redress the grievances, charges them thereupon to "discharge your forces as we will ours," and invites them to "drink together friendly and embrace." The Archbishop and Hastings, who have argued themselves into a conviction that peace is more to the advantage of the King than the continuance of civil war, accept the proposal joyfully, but Mowbray, with truer instinct, regards it with distrust. The following conversation ensues :

"ARCH. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland,

WEST. I pledge your grace; and if you knew what pains

I have bestowed 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 it.

WEST.

I am glad of it.

Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray.

Mow. You wish me health in very happy season,

For I am on a 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 this: some

good thing comes to

morrow.

ARCH. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.

Mow. So much the worse if your own rule be true.”—(II. 2.)

Readers of the play know that the rebel army, on receiving from Hastings the order to disperse, joyfully "take their courses east, west, north, south"; but the Prince's soldiers, having received charge from their commander to "stand," refuse to move at the command of Westmoreland, "until they hear the Prince's voice." Helpless without their soldiers, the Archbishop and Hastings are startled from their fool's paradise to find themselves arrested as traitors.

Another instance of high spirits

preceding disaster may be found in the comedy of "Love's Labour's Lost."

Merriment is at its height among the ladies of the Princess of France and their royal mistress. Their host, the King of Navarre, and his lords have been cheated and mocked, the rustics who had prepared a performance for their amusement have been "flouted out of their parts,' Don Armado and Costard, egged on by the nobles, are on the point of fighting a ridiculous duel, when Mercades enters with the greeting :

laughing Princess, "but that thou interruptest our merriment."

"I am sorry, madam, for the news I

bring

Is heavy on my tongue. The King, your father"

"Dead, for my life!" escapes from the paralysed lips of the royal lady.

The sudden revulsion of feeling seems to have suggested the worst that could befall, and made her a true prophetess.

There is nothing to connect this lighthearted conduct with the death of the King, except the coincidence of the time, but it is evident from the last scene of the play that the Princess and the Lady Rosaline are impressed with the danger and unseemliness of too complete an abandonment to mirth.

There are a few instances of pre

plays still un

sentiments in the plays

accounted for.

They might perhaps be

defined as a group of exceptions, save