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Fal. 'Faith, for their poverty,—I know not where they had that: and for their bareness,-I am sure, they never learn'd that of me.
P. Henry. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the-ribs, bare. But, sirrah, make hafte; Percy is already in the field.
Fal. What, is the king encamp'd ?
West. He is, sir John ; I fear, we shall stay too long,
Fal. Well, 'To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas, and Vernon.
Hot. We'll fight with him to-night.
Wor. It may not be.
Doug. You give him then advantage.
Ver. Not a whit.
Hot. Why say you so ? looks he not for supply?
Ver. So do we.
Hot. His is certain, ours is doubtful.
Wor. Good cousin, be advis’d; stir not to-night:
Ver. Do not, my lord. .
Doug. You do not counsel well ;
You speak it out of fear, and cold heart.
Ver. Do me no slander, Douglas : by my life,
(And I dare well maintain it with my life)
If well-respected honour bid me on,
I hold as little counsel with weak fear,
As you, or any Scot that this day lives :-
f The latter end of This coming in at.
Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle,
Which of us fears.
Doug. Yea, or to-night.
Hot. To-night, say I.
Ver. Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,
Being men of such great leading as you are,
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition : Certain horse
cousin Vernon's are not yet come up:
Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day;
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horse is half the half of himself.
Hot. So are the horses of the enemy
In general, journey-bated, and brought low;
The better part of ours are full of rest.
Wor. The number of the king exceedeth ours :
For God's fake, cousin, stay 'till all come in.
[The trumpets found a parley.
Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the king,
vouchsafe me hearing, and respect.
Hot. Welcome, sir Walter Blunt; And would to God,
You were of our determination !
Some of us love you well: and even those fome
Envy your great deservings, and good name ;
Because you are not of our quality,
But stand against us like an enemy.
Blunt. And heaven defend, but still I should stand so,
So long as, out of limit, and true rule,
& such great leading)---martial conduct and experience.
of our determination ! ]-embark'd in our cause,
our quality,)-our party.
You stand against anointed majesty!
But, to my charge.--The king hath sent to know
The nature of your griefs; and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
Audacious cruelty : If that the king
Have any way your good deserts forgot, -
Which he confeffech to be manifold,
He bids you name your griefs; and, with all speed,
You shall have your desires, with interest;
And pardon absolute for yourself, and these,
Herein mif-led by your suggestion,
Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the king
Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
My father, and my uncle, and myself,
Did give him that same royalty he wears :
And, when he was not fix and twenty strong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded out-law sneaking home,
My father gave him welcome to the shore :
And, when he heard him swear, and vow to God,
He came but to be duke of Lancaster,
* To sue his livery, and beg his peace,
With tears of innocence, and terms of zeal-
My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd,
Swore him assistance, and perform'd it too.
Now, when the lords and barons of the realm
Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him,
They, more and less, came in, with cap and knee ;
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages ;
* To fue bis livery,]-To sue out the delivery of his lands from wardship
I With tears of innocence,) - accompanying his protestations with tears, declarative of innocency, in relpect of the cause of his exile, and professions of zeal for the public welfare.
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,
Gave him their heirs as pages; follow'd him,
Even at the heels, in golden multitudes.
He presently, -as greatness knows itself,
Steps me a little higher than his vow
Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurg ;
And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees,
That lie too heavy on the commonwealth :
Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
Over his country's wrong; and, by his face,
This seeming brow of justice, did he win
The hearts of all that he did angle for.
Proceeded further ; cut me off the heads
Of all the favourites, that the absent king
In deputation left behind him here,
When he was personal in the Irish war.
Blunt. Tut, I came not to hear this.
Hot. Then to the point.
In short time after, he depos'd the king ;
Soon after that, depriv'd him of his life ;
And, " in the neck of that, talk'd the whole state.
To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman March
(Who is, if ever owner were well plac'd,
Indeed his king) to be incag'd in Wales,
There without ransom to lie forfeited :
Disgrac'd me in my happy victories;
Sought to entrap me by intelligence ;
Rated my uncle from the council-board;
In rage dismiss'd
father from the court; Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong:
in the neck of that, task'd]-immediately after tax'd.
And, in conclufion, drove us to seek out
* This head of safety; and, withal, to pry
Into his title, the which we find
Too indirect for long continuance,
Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the king ?
Ilot. Not fo, fir Walter ; we'll withdraw a while.
Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd
Some surery for a safe return again,
And in the morning early shall my uncle
Bring him our purposes: and so farewell.
Blunt. I would, you would accept of grace and love.
Hot. And, may be, fo we shall,
Blunt. Pray heaven, you do!
York. The Archbishop's Palace. Enter the Archbishop of York, and Sir Michael. York. Hie, good fir Michael ; bear this sealed o brief, With winged haste, to the lord marethal ; This to my cousin Scroop; and all the rest To whom they are directed : if
knew How much they do import, you would make haste.
Sir Mich. My good lord, I guess their tenor.
York. Like enough, you do. To-morrow, good fir Michael, is a day, Where in the fortune of ten thousand men Muit 'bide the touch: For, sir, aç Shrewsbury, 4:' an truly given to understand, The Boss, with mighty and quick-raised power, ni ba? Ky;]-This army on which we depend for pro
*;?,]-Thomas Lord Mowbray,