L. Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way;

And he is furnish'd with no certainties
More than he haply may retail from me.

30

North. Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?

Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back

With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd,
Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard 38
A gentleman, almost forspent with speed,
That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied
horse.

He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him
I did demand what news from Shrewsbury. 40
He told me that rebellion had bad luck,
And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold.
With that, he gave his able horse the head,
And bending forward struck his armed heels
Against the panting sides of his poor jade
Up to the rowel-head, and starting so
He seem'd in running to devour the way,
Staying no longer question.

North.
Ha! Again.
Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
Of Hotspur Coldspur? That rebellion
Had met ill luck ?

L. Bard.

45

50

My lord, I'll tell you what : If my young lord your son have not the day, Upon mine honour, for a silken point I'll give my barony. Never talk of it. North. Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers

Give then such instances of loss?

55

He was some hilding fellow that had stolen
The horse he rode on, and, upon my life,
Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more

70

Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,
And would have told him half his Troy was
burnt;

But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,
And I my Percy's death ere thon report'st it. 75
This thou wouldst say, "Your son did thus
and thus;

Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas; 99

80

Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds;
But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,
Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
Ending with "Brother, son, and all are dead."
Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother
yet;

But, for my lord your son,

North.

Why, he is dead. See what a ready tongue suspicion hath ! He that but fears the thing he would not know

85

100

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,
Not he which says the dead is not alive.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Rememb'red tolling a departing friend.
L. Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son
is dead.

Mor. I am sorry I should force you to believe

105

In poison there is physic; and these news, Having been well, that would have made me

sick,

Being sick, have in some measure made me well.

And as the wretch, whose fever-weak'ned joints,

Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire

140

Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, Weak'ned with grief, being now enrag'd with

grief,

Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch!

145

A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel
Must glove this hand; and hence, thou sickly

quoif!

Thou art a guard too wanton for the head Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. Now bind my brows with iron; and approach The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare

bring

151

To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland! Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not Nature's hand

155

Keep the wild flood confin'd! Let order die !
And let this world no longer be a stage
To feed contention in a ling'ring act;
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
On bloody courses, the rude scene may end,
And darkness be the burier of the dead!
[Tra.] This strained passion doth you wrong,
my lord.

166

L. Bard. Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.

Mor. The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er

165

To stormy passion, must perforce decay. [You cast the event of war, my noble lord, And summ'd the account of chance, before you

said,

"Let us make head." It was your presurmise, That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop.

loss Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous seas That if we wrought out life 't was ten to one; And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'd Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd; And since we are o'erset, venture again, Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. Mor. 'Tis more than time; and, my most noble lord,

185

190

I hear for certain, and do speak the truth,
[The gentle Archbishop of York is up
With well-appointed powers. He is a man
Who with a double surety binds his followers.
My lord your son had only but the corpse,
But shadows and the shows of men, to fight;
For that same word, rebellion, did divide
The action of their bodies from their souls; 195
And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd,
As men drink potions, that their weapons only
Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and
souls,

This word, rebellion, it had froze them up,
As fish are in a pond. But now the Bishop 200
Turns insurrection to religion.

Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts,
He's follow'd both with body and with mind;
And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
Of fair King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret

stones;

205

Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; And more and less do flock to follow him.]

North. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth,

210

This present grief had wip'd it from my mind.
Go in with me; and counsel every man
The aptest way for safety and revenge.
Get posts and letters, and make friends with
speed,-

Never so few, and never yet more need.

215

Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent anything that intends to laughter, more than I invent or is invented on me. I am not only witty in myself, but [16 the cause that wit is in other men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that hath overwhelm'd all her litter but one. If the Prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I have no judge- [15 ment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'd with an agate till now; but I will inset you neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back [20 again to your master, for a jewel, the juvenal, the Prince your master, whose chin is not yet fledg'd. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand than he shall get one off his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his [25 face is a face royal. God may finish it when he will, 't is not a hair amiss yet. He may keep it still at a face royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it; and yet he 'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his [30 father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dommelton about the satin for my short cloak and my slops?

34

Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph. He would not take his band and yours. He lik'd not the security.

28

Fal. Let him be damn'd like the glutton! Pray God his tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally yea-for-sooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security! The whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is through with them in honest taking up, then [45 they must stand upon security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with security. I look'd 'a should have sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security. Well, [50 he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of abundance, and yet the lightness of his wife shines through it; and yet cannot he see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. Where's Bardolph ?

66

Page. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse.

Fal. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in Smithfield. An I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were mann'd, hors'd, and wiv'd.

61

Serv. Sir, my lord would speak with you. Ch. Just. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. Fal. My good lord! God give your lordship good time of day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad. I heard say your lordship was sick; I hope your lordship goes abroad by [108 advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time in you; and I most humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverent care of your health.

114

Ch. Just. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to Shrewsbury.

Fal. An't please your lordship, I hear his Majesty is return'd with some discomfort from Wales.

119

Ch. Just. There is not a white hair in your face but should have his effect of gravity. Fal. His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. Ch. Just. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel.

186

Fal. Not so, my lord. Your ill angel is light; but I hope he that looks upon me will take me without weighing; and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go. I cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these costermongers' [19 times that true Valour is turned bear-herd; Pregnancy is made a tapster, and his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings; all the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. [19 You that are old consider not the capacities of us that are young; you do measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of your galls; and