GLOUCESTER & CLARENCE.
Good morrow, cousin.
LANCASTER.
We meet like men that had forgot to speak.
WARWICK.
We do remember, but our argument
Is all too heavy to admit much talk.
LANCASTER.
Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!
GLOUCESTER.
O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed;
And I dare swear you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow; it is sure your own.
LANCASTER.
Though no man be assured what grace to find,
You stand in coldest expectation.
I am the sorrier; would ’twere otherwise.
CLARENCE.
Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair,
Which swims against your stream of quality.
CHIEF JUSTICE.
Sweet Princes, what I did I did in honour,
Led by th’ impartial conduct of my soul;
And never shall you see that I will beg
A ragged and forestall’d remission.
If truth and upright innocency fail me,
I’ll to the King my master that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.
WARWICK.
Here comes the Prince.