osoms sat,
Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.

_Bed._ The king hath note of all that they intend,
By interception which they dream not of.

_Exe._ Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,(A)
Whom he hath cloy'd and grac'd with princely favours,--
That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
His sovereign's life to death and treachery!

_Distant Trumpets sound. Enter King HENRY, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE,
GREY, Lords and Attendants, U.E.L.H._

_K. Hen._ Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
My lord of Cambridge,--and my kind lord of Masham,--
And you, my gentle knight,--give me your thoughts:
Think you not, that the powers we bear with us
Will cut their passage through the force of France?

_Scroop._ No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.

_K. Hen._ I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded
We carry not a heart with us from hence
That grows not in a fair consent with ours,[1]
Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.

_Cam._ (R.) Never was monarch better fear'd and lov'd
Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Under the sweet shade of your government.

_Grey._ (R.) Even those that were your father's enemies
Have steep'd their galls in honey, and do serve you
With hearts create[2] of duty and of zeal.

_K.Hen._ (C.) We therefore have great cause of thankfulness;
And shall forget the office of our hand,
Sooner than quittance of desert and merit
According to the weight and worthiness.
Uncle of Exeter, R.
Enlarge the man committed yesterday,
That rail'd against our person: we consider
It was excess of wine that set him on;
And, on his more advice,[3] we pardon him.

_Scroop._ (R.) That's mercy, but too much security:
Let him be punish'd, sovereign; lest example
Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.

_K. Hen._ O, let us yet be merciful.

_Cam._ So may your highness, and yet punish too.

_Grey._ Sir, you show great mercy, if you give him life,
After the taste of much correction.

_K. Hen._ Alas, your too much love and care of me
Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch![4]
If little faults, proceeding on distemper,[5]
Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye[6]
When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,
Appear before us?--We'll yet enlarge that man,
Though Ca