Harcourt

Westmoreland 
Health to my sovereign, and new happiness
Added to that that I am to deliver.
Prince John your son doth kiss your Grace’s hand.
Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all
Are brought to the correction of your law.
There is not now a rebel’s sword unsheathed,
But peace puts forth her olive everywhere.

O Westmoreland,
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