Well said, my noble Scot! If speaking truth

4.1.22222In this fine age were not thought flattery,

4.1.32223Such attribution should the Douglas have

4.1.42224As not a soldier of this season's stamp

4.1.52225Should go so general current through the world.

4.1.62226By god, I cannot flatter, I do defy

4.1.72227The tongues of soothers, but a braver place

4.1.82228In my heart's love hath no man than yourself.

4.1.92229Nay, task me to my word, approve me, lord.

Thou art the king of honor.

4.1.112231No man so potent breathes upon the ground

4.1.122232But I will beard him.

But I will beard him. Do so, and 'tis well.

4.1.132235What letters hast thou there? [To Douglas] I can but thank you.

These letters come from your father.

Letters from him? Why comes he not himself?

He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick.

Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick

4.1.182242In such a jostling time? Who leads his power?

4.1.192243Under whose government come they along?

His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord.

I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?

He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;

4.1.232247And at the time of my departure thence

4.1.242248He was much feared by his physicians.

I would the state of time had first been whole

4.1.262250Ere he by sickness had been visited.

4.1.272251His health was never better worth than now.

Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect

4.1.292253The very life-blood of our enterprise.

4.1.302254'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.

4.1.312255He writes me here that inward sickness --

4.1.322256And that his friends by deputation

4.1.332257Could not so soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet

4.1.342258To lay so dangerous and dear a trust

4.1.352259On any soul removed but on his own.

4.1.362260Yet doth he give us bold advertisement

4.1.372261That with our small conjunction we should on,

4.1.382262To see how fortune is disposed to us;

4.1.392263For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,

4.1.402264Because the king is certainly possessed

4.1.412265Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Your father's sickness is a maim to us.

A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off.

4.1.442268And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want

4.1.452269Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good

4.1.462270To set the exact wealth of all our states

4.1.472271All at one cast? To set so rich a main

4.1.482272On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?

4.1.492273It were not good, for therein should we read

4.1.502274The very bottom and the soul of hope,

4.1.512275The very list, the very utmost bound,

4.1.522276Of all our fortunes.

Faith, and so we should, where now remains

4.1.542278A sweet reversion -- we may boldly spend

4.1.552279Upon the hope of what is to come in.

4.1.562281A comfort of retirement lives in this.

A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,

4.1.582283If that the devil and mischance look big

4.1.592284Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

But yet I would your father had been here.

4.1.612286The quality and hair of our attempt

4.1.622287Brooks no division. It will be thought

4.1.632288By some that know not why he is away

4.1.642289That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike

4.1.652290Of our proceedings kept the earl from hence;

4.1.662291And think how such an apprehension

4.1.672292May turn the tide of fearful faction,

4.1.682293And breed a kind of question in our cause.

4.1.692294For, well you know, we of the off'ring side

4.1.702295Must keep aloof from strict arbitrament,

4.1.712296And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence

4.1.722297The eye of reason may pry in upon us.

4.1.732298This absence of your father's draws a curtain

4.1.742299That shows the ignorant a kind of fear

4.1.752300Before not dreamt of.

Before not dreamt of. You strain too far.

4.1.762302I rather of his absence make this use:

4.1.772303It lends a luster, and more great opinion,

4.1.782304A larger dare to our great enterprise,

4.1.792305Than if the earl were here; for men must think

4.1.802306If we without his help can make a head

4.1.812307To push against a kingdom, with his help

4.1.822308We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.

4.1.832309Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.

As heart can think, there is not such a word

4.1.852311Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.

My cousin Vernon! Welcome, by my soul!

Pray god my news be worth a welcome, lord.

4.1.882316The Earl of Westmorland, seven thousand strong,

4.1.892317Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.

No harm. What more?

No harm. What more? And further I have learned

4.1.912320The king himself in person is set forth,

4.1.922321Or hitherwards intended speedily,

4.1.932322With strong and mighty preparation.

He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,

4.1.952325The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,

4.1.962326And his comrades that daffed the world aside

4.1.972327And bid it pass?

And bid it pass? All furnished, all in arms,

4.1.982329All plumed like ostriches, that with the wind

4.1.992330Baited like eagles having lately bathed,

4.1.1002331Glittering in golden coats like images,

4.1.1012332As full of spirit as the month of May,

4.1.1022333And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;

4.1.1032334Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.

4.1.1042335I saw young Harry with his beaver on,

4.1.1052336His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed,

4.1.1062337Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,

4.1.1072338And vaulted with such ease into his seat

4.1.1082339As if an angel dropped down from the clouds

4.1.1092340To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,

4.1.1102341And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March,

4.1.1122344This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come!

4.1.1132345They come like sacrifices in their trim,

4.1.1142346And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war

4.1.1152347All hot and bleeding will we offer them.

4.1.1162348The mailèd Mars shall on his altars sit

4.1.1172349Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire

4.1.1182350To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,

4.1.1192351And yet not ours! Come, let me taste my horse,

4.1.1202352Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt

4.1.1212353Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.

4.1.1222354Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,

4.1.1232355Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corse.

4.1.1242356Oh, that Glendower were come!

Oh, that Glendower were come! There is more news,

4.1.1252358I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,

4.1.1262359He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.

That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.

Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.

What may the king's whole battle reach unto?

To thirty thousand.

To thirty thousand. Forty let it be.

4.1.1322367My father and Glendower being both away,

4.1.1332368The powers of us may serve so great a day.

4.1.1342369Come, let us take a muster speedily.

4.1.1352370Doomsday is near: die all, die merrily.

Talk not of dying; I am out of fear

4.1.1372372Of death or death's hand for this one half year.