West. I pledge your Grace:
And if you knew what paines I haue bestow'd,
To breede this present Peace,
You would drinke freely: but my loue to ye,
Shall shew it selfe more openly hereafter
Bish. I doe not doubt you
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 the sodaine, something ill
Bish. Against ill Chances, men are euer merry,
But heauinesse fore-runnes the good euent
West. Therefore be merry (Cooze) since sodaine sorrow
Serues to say thus: some good thing comes to morrow
Bish. Beleeue me, I am passing light in spirit
Mow. So much the worse, if your owne Rule be true
Iohn. The word of Peace is render'd: hearke how they showt
Mow. This had been chearefull, after Victorie