1.1.0.146Enter the Lord Bardolph at one door [and the Porter at another]. Who keeps the gate here, ho? Where is the earl?
What shall I say you are?
What shall I say you are? Tell thou the earl,
1.1.351That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
His lordship is walked forth into the orchard,
1.1.553Please it your honor knock but at the gate
Enter the Earl Northumberland.
And he himself will answer. Here comes the earl.
What news Lord Bardolph? Every minute now
1.1.858Should be the father of some stratagem.
1.1.959The times are wild; contention like a horse,
1.1.1060Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose,
And bears down all before him. Noble earl,
1.1.1263I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.
Good, an god will.
Good, an god will. As good as heart can wish:
1.1.1466The king is almost wounded to the death,
1.1.1567And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
1.1.1668Prince Harry slain outright, and both the Blunts
1.1.1769Killed by the hand of Douglas. Young Prince John,
1.1.1870And Westmorland and Stafford fled the field,
1.1.1971And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John,
1.1.2072Is prisoner to your son. O such a day,
1.1.2173So fought, so followed, and so fairly won,
1.1.2274Came not till now to dignify the times
Since Caesar's fortunes. How is this derived?
1.1.2477Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury?
I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence,
1.1.2679A gentleman well bred, and of good name,
1.1.2780That freely rendered me these news for true.
Here comes my servant Travers who I sent
1.1.2982On Tuesday last to listen after news.
My lord, I over-rode him on the way,
1.1.3185And he is furnished with no certainties,
1.1.3286More than he haply may retail from me.
Now Travers, what good tidings comes with you?
My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turned me back
1.1.3589With joyful tidings, and, being better horsed,
1.1.3690Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard
1.1.3791A gentleman, almost forespent with speed,
1.1.3892That stopped by me to breathe his bloodied horse.
1.1.3993He asked the way to Chester, and of him
1.1.4094I did demand what news from Shrewsbury.
1.1.4195He told me that rebellion had bad luck,
1.1.4296And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold.
1.1.4397With that he gave his able horse the head
1.1.4498And bending forward, struck his armèd heels
1.1.4599Against the panting sides of his poor jade
1.1.46100Up to the rowel head, and starting so,
1.1.47101He seemed in running to devour the way,
Staying no longer question. Northumberland Ha? Again:
1.1.49104Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
1.1.50105Of Hotspur, Coldspur? That rebellion
Had met ill luck? My lord, I'll tell you what:
1.1.52108If my young lord your son have not the day,
1.1.54110I'll give my barony, never talk of it.
Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers
Give then such instances of loss? Who he?
1.1.57114He was some hilding fellow that had stol'n
1.1.58115The horse he rode on, and upon my life
1.1.59116Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.
Yea this man's brow, like to a title leaf,
1.1.61119Foretells the nature of a tragic volume,
1.1.62120So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood
1.1.64122Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?
I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord,
1.1.66124Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask
To fright our party. How doth my son and brother?
1.1.68127Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek
1.1.69128Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
1.1.70129Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
1.1.71130So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
1.1.72131Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night
1.1.73132And would have told him half his Troy was burnt;
1.1.74133But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,
1.1.75134And I, my Percy's death ere thou report'st it.
1.1.76135This thou wouldst say: "Your son did thus and thus,
1.1.77136Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas,"
1.1.78137Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds.
1.1.79138But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,
1.1.80139Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
1.1.81140Ending with "brother, son, and all are dead."
Douglas is living, and your brother yet,
But for my lord your son -- Why, he is dead.
1.1.84144See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
1.1.85145He that but fears the thing he would not know
1.1.86146Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes
1.1.87147That what he feared is chanced. Yet speak, Morton,
1.1.88148Tell thou an Earl his divination lies,
1.1.89149And I will take it as a sweet disgrace,
1.1.90150And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.
You are too great to be by me gainsaid,
1.1.92152Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
Yet for all this, say not that Percy's dead.
1.1.94154I see a strange confession in thine eye:
1.1.95155Thou shak'st thy head, and holdst it fear, or sin,
1.1.97157The tongue offends not that reports his death;
1.1.98158And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,
1.1.99159Not he which says the dead is not alive.
1.1.101161Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
I am sorry I should force you to believe
1.1.106166That which I would to god I had not seen,
1.1.107167But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,
1.1.108168Rendering faint quittance, wearied, and out-breathed,
1.1.109169To Harry Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat down
1.1.111171From whence with life he never more sprung up.
1.1.112172In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire
1.1.113173Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,
1.1.114174Being bruited once, took fire and heat away
1.1.115175From the best-tempered courage in his troops.
1.1.116176For from his metal was his party steeled,
1.1.118178Turned on themselves, like dull and heavy lead.
1.1.120180Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed,
1.1.121181So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
1.1.122182Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear
1.1.123183That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim
1.1.124184Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,
1.1.125185Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester
1.1.126186So soon ta'en prisoner, and that furious Scot,
1.1.127187The bloody Douglas, whose well-laboring sword
1.1.128188Had three times slain th'appearance of the king,
1.1.129189Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame
1.1.130190Of those that turned their backs, and in his flight,
1.1.131191Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all
1.1.132192Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out
1.1.133193A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
1.1.135195And Westmorland. This is the news at full.
For this I shall have time enough to mourn.
1.1.137197In poison there is physic, and these news,
1.1.138198Having been well, that would have made me sick,
1.1.139199Being sick, have (in some measure) made me well.
1.1.140200And as the wretch whose fever-weakened joints,
1.1.141201Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
1.1.142202Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
1.1.143203Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs,
1.1.144204Weakened with grief, being now enraged with grief,
1.1.145205Are thrice themselves. Hence therefore thou nice crutch!
1.1.146206A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel
1.1.147207Must glove this hand. And hence thou sickly coif!
1.1.148208Thou art a guard too wanton for the head
1.1.149209Which princes fleshed with conquest aim to hit.
1.1.150210Now bind my brows with iron, and approach
1.1.151211The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring
1.1.152212To frown upon th'enraged Northumberland!
1.1.153213Let heaven kiss earth, now let not nature's hand
1.1.154214Keep the wild flood confined. Let order die,
1.1.155215And let this world no longer be a stage,
1.1.157217But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
1.1.158218Reign in all bosoms, that each heart being set
1.1.159219On bloody courses, the rude scene may end,
This strainèd passion doth you wrong, my lord.
Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honor.
The lives of all your loving complices
1.1.164223Lean on your health, the which, if you give o'er
1.1.166225You cast th'event of war, my noble lord,
1.1.167226And summed the account of chance before you said
1.1.168227"Let us make head." It was your presurmise
1.1.169228That in the dole of blows your son might drop.
1.1.170229You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge
1.1.171230More likely to fall in than to get o'er.
1.1.173232Of wounds, and scars, and that his forward spirit
1.1.174233Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged,
1.1.175234Yet did you say "go forth"; and none of this,
1.1.176235Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
1.1.177236The stiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n?
1.1.178237Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth,
1.1.179238More than that being, which was like to be?
We all that are engagèd to this loss
1.1.181240Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas
1.1.182241That if we wrought out life, 'twas ten to one;
1.1.183242And yet we ventured for the gain proposed,
1.1.184243Choked the respect of likely peril feared,
1.1.185244And since we are o'erset, venture again.
1.1.186245Come, we will all put forth, body and goods.
'Tis more than time; and my most noble lord,
1.1.188247I hear for certain, and dare speak the truth,
1.1.191250Who with a double surety binds his followers.
1.1.192251My lord your son had only but the corpse,
1.1.193252But shadows and the shows of men to fight;
1.1.194253For that same word "rebellion" did divide
1.1.195254The action of their bodies from their souls,
1.1.196255And they did fight with queasiness, constrained,
1.1.197256As men drink potions, that their weapons only
1.1.198257Seemed on our side; but for their spirits and souls,
1.1.199258This word "rebellion," it had froze them up
1.1.200259As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop
1.1.202261Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts,
1.1.203262He's followed both with body and with mind,
1.1.204263And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
1.1.205264Of fair King Richard scraped from Pomfret stones,
1.1.206265Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause,
1.1.207266Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land,
1.1.208267Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke,
1.1.209268And more and less do flock to follow him.
I knew of this before, but, to speak truth,
1.1.211270This present grief had wiped it from my mind.
1.1.214273Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed;