Fal. 'Faith, for their poverty,-I know not where they had that and for their barenefs,-I am fure, they never learn'd that of me.

P. Henry. No, I'll be fworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs, bare. But, firrah, make hafte; Percy is already in the field.

Fal. What, is the king encamp'd?

Weft. He is, fir 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.

[Exeunt.

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 fay you fo? looks he not for supply?

Ver. So do we.

Hot. His is certain, ours is doubtful.

Wor. Good coufin, be advis'd; ftir 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 flander, 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:-

The latter end of]-This coming in at.

Let

Let it be feen to-morrow in the battle,

Which of us fears.

Doug. Yea, or to-night.

Ver. Content.

Hot. To-night, fay I.

Ver. Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,
Being men of fuch great leading as you are,
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition: Certain horse
Of my coufin Vernon's are not yet come up:
Your uncle Worcester's horfe came but to-day;
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horfe 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, coufin, ftay 'till all come in.

Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the king, If you vouchfafe me hearing, and refpect.

Hot. Welcome, fir Walter Blunt; And would to God, You were of our determination!

h

Some of us love you well: and even those some

Envy your great defervings, and good name;

Because you are not of our quality,

But ftand against us like an enemy.

Blunt. And heaven defend, but ftill I fhould ftand fo,

So long as, out of limit, and true rule,

fuch great leading]-martial conduct and experience. of our determination !]—embark'd in our cause,

our quality,]-our party.

You ftand against anointed majesty!

But, to my charge.-The king hath fent to know
The nature of your griefs; and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hoftility, teaching his duteous land
Audacious cruelty: If that the king

Have any way your good deferts forgot,-
Which he confeffeth to be manifold,,

He bids you name your griefs; and, with all speed,
You shall have your defires, with intereft;

And pardon abfolute for yourself, and these,
Herein mif-led by your fuggeftion.

Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the king
Knows at what time to promife, when to pay.
My father, and my uncle, and myself,
Did give him that fame royalty he wears:
And,-when he was not fix and twenty ftrong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded out-law fneaking home,—
My father gave him welcome to the fhore:
And,-when he heard him fwear, and vow to God,
He came but to be duke of Lancaster,
* To fue 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 affiftance, and perform'd it too.
Now, when the lords and barons of the realm
Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him,
They, more and lefs, came in, with cap and knee;
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages;

To fue bis livery,]-To fue out the delivery of his lands from wardship.

With tears of innocence,]-accompanying his proteftations with tears, declarative of innocency, in respect of the caufe of his exile, and profeffions of zeal for the public welfare.

Attended

1

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 fhore at Ravenspurg;
And now, forfooth, takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts, and fome ftrait 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 perfonal 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, tafk'd the whole state.
To make that worse, fuffer'd his kinsman March
(Who is, if ever owner were well plac'd,
Indeed his king) to be incag'd in Wales,
There without ranfom to lie forfeited:
Difgrac'd me in my happy victories;
Sought to entrap me by intelligence;
Rated my uncle from the council-board;
In rage difmifs'd my father from the court;
Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong:

in the neck of that, tafk'd]-immediately after tax'd.

And, in conclufion, drove us to feek out

This head of fafety; and, withal, to pry

Into his title, the which we find

Too indirect for long continuance,

Blunt. Shall I return this anfwer to the king?

Hot. Not fo, fir Walter; we'll withdraw a while.
Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd
Some furety for a fafe return again,

And in the morning early fhall my uncle

Bring him our purpofes: and fo farewell.

Blunt. I would, you would accept of grace and love.
Hot. And, may be, fo we fhall,

Blunt. Pray heaven, you do!

SCENE

[Exeunt.

IV.

York. The Archbishop's Palace.

Enter the Archbishop of York, and Sir Michael.

York. Hie, good fir Michael; bear this fealed brief, With winged hafte, to the lord marethal;

This to my cousin Scroop; and all the rest

To whom they are directed: if you 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,
Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men

Must 'bide the touch: For, fir, at Shrewsbury,

Asam truly given to understand,

The king, with mighty and quick-raised power,

The band of Safety ;]-This army on which we depend for pro

brief,]-letter.

↑ ford marobel,]-Thomas Lord Mowbray,

Meets