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


'Pray Heaven, you do! [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Room in the Archbishop's House.

Enter the Archbishop of York, and a Gentleman.


Arch. Hie, good sir Michael; bear this sealed brief, With winged haste, to the lord mareshal;' This to my cousin Scroop; and all the rest To whom they are directed. If If you knew How much they do import, you would make haste. Gent. My good lord,

guess their tenor.

Like enough, you do.
To-morrow, good sir Michael, is a day,
Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
Must 'bide the touch. For, sir, at Shrewsbury,
As I am truly given to understand,

The king, with mighty and quick-raised power,
Meets with lord Harry; and I fear, sir Michael,-
What with the sickness of Northumberland,
(Whose power was in the first proportion,)


And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence, (Who with them was a rated sinew too, And comes not in, o'erruled by prophecies,)

I fear the power of Percy is too weak

To wage an instant trial with the king.

Gent. Why, good my lord, you need not fear; there's

And lord Mortimer.


No, Mortimer's not there

Gent. But there is Mordake, Vernon, lord Harry


And there's my lord of Worcester; and a head
Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.

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Arch. And so there is; but yet the king hath drawn The special head of all the land togetherThe prince of Wales, lord John of Lancaster, The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt; And many more corrivals, and dear men Of estimation and command in arms.

Gent. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed. Arch. I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear; And, to prevent the worst, sir Michael, speed; For, if lord Percy thrive not, ere the king Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,For he hath heard of our confederacy.And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him; Therefore, make haste. I must go write again To other friends; and so farewell, sir Michael. [Exeunt severally.


SCENE I. The King's Camp near Shrewsbury.


K. Hen. How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above yon busky' hill! The day looks pale
At his distemperature.

P. Hen.

The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes;
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves,
Foretells a tempest, and a blustering day.

1 "I do not know (says Mr. Blakeway) whether Shakspeare ever surveyed the ground of Battlefield, but he has described the sun's rising over Haughmound hill from that spot as accurately as if he had. It still merits the name of a busky hill." Milton writes the word, perhaps more properly, bosky; it is from the French boscageux, woody.

K. Hen. Then with the losers let it sympathize; For nothing can seem foul to those that win.


Trumpet. Enter WORCESTER and VERNON.
How now, my lord of Worcester? 'tis not well,
That you and I should meet upon such terms
As now we meet. You have deceived our trust,
And made us doff our easy robes of peace,
To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel:
This is not well, my lord, this is not well.
What say you
say you to't? Will
to't? Will you again unknit
This churlish knot of all-abhorred war,
And move in that obedient orb again,
Where you did give a fair and natural light ;
And be no more an exhaled meteor,

A prodigy of fear, and a portent

Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
Wor. Hear me, my liege;

For mine own part, I could be well content
To entertain the lag-end of my life

With quiet hours; for, I do protest,

I have not sought the day of this dislike.

K. Hen. You have not sought it! How comes it then?

Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
P. Hen. Peace, chewet,1 peace.

Wor. It pleased your majesty to turn your looks
Of favor from myself and all our house;
And yet I must remember you, my lord,
We were the first and dearest of your friends.
For you, my staff of office did I break

In Richard's time; and posted day and night
To meet you on the way, and kiss your hand,
When yet you were in place and in account
Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.
It was myself, my brother, and his son,
That brought you home, and boldly did outdare
The dangers of the time. You swore to us,-

1 In an old cookery book, printed in 1596, I find a receipt for making chewets, which, from their ingredients, seem to have been fat, greasy puddings.-Steevens.

And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,-
That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state;
Nor claim no further than your new-fallen right,
The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster.
To this we swore our aid. But, in short space,
It rained down fortune showering on your head:
And such a flood of greatness fell on you,-
What with our help; what with the absent king;
What with the injuries of a wanton time;
The seeming sufferances that you had borne;
And the contrarious winds, that held the king
So long in his unlucky Irish wars,
That all in England did repute him dead,-
And, from this swarm of fair advantages,
You took occasion to be quickly wooed
To gripe the general sway into your hand;
Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster;
And, being fed by us, you used us so
As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,'
Useth the sparrow; did oppress our nest;
Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk,
That even our love durst not come near your sight,
For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing
We were enforced, for safety sake, to fly



Out of your sight, and raise this present head:
Whereby we stand opposed by such means
As you yourself have forged against yourself;
By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth
Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.

K. Hen. These things, indeed, you have articulated,3
Proclaimed at market-crosses, read in churches,
To face the garment of rebellion
With some fine color, that may please the eye

1 "The Titling, therefore, that sitteth, being thus deceived, hatcheth the egge, and bringeth up the chicke of another bird:-and this she doth so long, untill the young cuckow being once fledge and readie to flie abroad, is so bold as to seize upon the old titling, and eat up her that hatched her."-Pliny's Nat. Hist. by Holland, b. x. ch. 9.

2 i. e. we stand in opposition to you.

3 The quartos read articulate. To articulate is to set down in articles.

Of fickle changelings, and poor discontents,
Which gape, and rub the elbow, at the news
Of hurly-burly innovation.

And never yet did insurrection want
Such water colors, to impaint his cause;
Nor moody beggars, starving1 for a time
Of pellmell havock and confusion.

P. Hen. In both our armies, there is many a soul Shall pay full dearly for this encounter,

If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,
The prince of Wales doth join with all the world
In praise of Henry Percy. By my hopes,-
This present enterprise set off his head,-
I do not think a braver gentleman,
More active-valiant, or more valiant-young,
More daring, or more bold, is now alive,
To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
I have a truant been to chivalry;

And so, I hear, he doth account me too :
Yet this before my father's majesty,-
I am content, that he shall take the odds
Of his great name and estimation;
And will, to save the blood on either side,
Try fortune with him in a single fight.

K. Hen. And, prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,

Albeit, considerations infinite


Do make against it.-No, good Worcester, no,
We love our people well; even those we love,
That are misled upon your cousin's part;
And, will they take the offer of our grace,
Both he, and they, and you, yea, every man
Shall be my friend again, and I'll be his.
So tell your cousin, and bring me word
What he will do.-But if he will not yield,
Rebuke and dread correction wait on us,

1 i. e. anxiously expecting a time.

2 Mason suggests that we should read, “Know, good Worcester, know," &c.

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