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Can play upon it. But what need I thus
The same. The Porter before the Gate.
Enter LORD BARDOLPH.
is the earl ?
Tell thou the earl, That the lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
Port. His lordship is walked forth into the orchard.
1 Northumberland's castle.
Please it your honor, knock but at the gate,
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Bard.
Here comes the earl. North. What news, lord Bardolph ? Every minute
North. Good, an Heaven will!
As good as heart can wish.-
How is this derived ? Saw you the field ? Came you from Shrewsbury ? Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from
thence; A gentleman well-bred, and of good name, That freely rendered me these news for true. North. Here comes my servant, Travers, whom I
Bard. My lord, I overrode hiin on the way;
North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with
Tra. My lord, sir John Umfrevile turned me back
My lord, I'll tell
1 Exhausted. ? A silken point is a tagged lace. 3 i. e. Hilderling, base, low tellow.
So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood
Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord ;
How doth my son, and brother?
Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet;
your son, North.
Why, he is dead. See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! He, that but fears the thing he would not know, Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes, That what he feared is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; Tell thou thy earl, his divination lies; And I will take it as a sweet disgrace, And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.
Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid ; Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
Norih. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. I see a strange confession in thine eye; Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear or sin, To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so. The tongue offends not, that reports his death ;
And he doth sin, that doth belie the dead ;
Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
Mor. I am sorry, I should force you to believe That, which I would to Heaven I had not seen; But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, To Harry Monmouth ; whose swift wrath beat down The never-daunted Percy to the earth, From whence with life he never more sprung up. In few, his death, (whose spirit lent a fire Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,) Being bruited once, took fire and heat away From the best-tempered courage in his troops ; For from his metal was his party steeled; Which once in him abated, all the rest Turned on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. And as the thing that's heavy in itself, Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed, So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear, That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim, Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester Too soon ta’en prisoner; and that furious Scot, The bloody Douglas, whose well-laboring sword Had three times slain the appearance of the king, 'Gan vail ? his stomach, and did grace the shame Of those that turned their backs; and, in his flight, Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all Is,—that the king hath won; and hath sent out A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
1 The bell anciently was rung before the dying person had expired, and thence was called the passing bell.
2 To vail is to lower, to cast down.