Enter Lord Bardolph.

Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho ?—Where

is the earl? Port. What shall I say you are? Bard. Tell thou the earl,

That the lord Banlolph doth attend him here. Port. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard;

Please it your honour, knock but at the gate,
And he himself will answer.

Baud. Here comes the earl.

Enter Northumberland.

North. What news, lord Bardolph'? every minute now

Should be the father of some stratagem:
The times are wild; contention, like a horse
Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose
And Deal's down all before him.

Bard. Xoble earl,

I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.

North. Good, an God 6 will!

Bard. As good as heart can wish :—

The king is almost wounded to the death;
And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunu
Kill'd by the hand of Douglas: young prim?
John,

And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field;
And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk sir Jo'1"'

(•) First folio, heaven.

Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day,
So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won,
Came not, till now, to dignify the times,
Since Caesar's fortunes!

Nobth. How is this deriv'd?

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 render'd me these news for true.

Nobth. Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent On Tuesday last to listen after news.

Babd. 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.

Enter Travers.

Nobth. Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with* you? [back

Tba. My lord, sir John Umfrevile turo'd me With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd, Out-rode me. After him, came, spurring hard,f A gentleman almost forespent 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. He told me, that rebellion had bad+ luck, And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold: ^ ith 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.

Sobth. Ha! Again.

Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
Of Hotspur, coldspur? that rebellion
Had met ill luck?

Babd. My lord, I'll tell you what;—

If my young lord your son have not the day, i-pon mine honour, for a silken point I'll give my barony: never talk of it. North. Why should thaw gentleman, that rode by Travers, Give, then, such instances of loss?

babd- Who, he?

He was some hilding • fellow, that had stol'n The horse he rode on: and, upon my life, •'tyoke at a venture! Look, here comes more news.

North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a titleForetells the nature of a tragic volume: [leaf,1" So looks the strand, whereon the imperious flood Hath left a witness'd usurpation.

Enter Morton.

Say, Morton, did'st thou come from Shrewsbury?
Mom I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord;
Where hateful death put on his" ugliest mask,
To fright our party.

North. How doth my son, and brother?

Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
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 bar

burn'd;
But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue,
And I my Percy's death, ere thou report'st it.
This thou would'st say,—Your son did thus, and

thus; Your brother, thus; so fought the noble Douglas; Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds, But in the end, to stop mine ear indeed, Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, Ending with—brother, son, and all are dead. Mon. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet;

But, for my lord your son,

_ Nomh. 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 feai'd is chanced. Yet speak,

Morton;
Tell thou thy carl, 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.
North. 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,
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,

(*) First folio, when.

"Out on her, hilding." » Like to a title-leaf,-] Elegiac poems in former times <were usually printed with a black border round the title-page, and sometimes with that leaf totally black.

liemember'd knolling * a departing friend.

Baud. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.

Mon. I am sorry, I should force you to believe That, which I would to God f I had not seen: But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, Rend'ring faint quittance," wearied and out-breath'd 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,b 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 temper'd courage in his troops:
For from his metal was his party steel'd;
Which once in him abated, all the rest
Turri'd 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-labouring sword
Had three times slain the appearance of the king,
'Gan vail his stomach,' and did grace the shame
Of those thatturn'd 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,
Under the conduct of young Lancaster,
And Westmoreland: this is the news at full.
Nokth. For this I shall have time enough to
mourn.

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-weaken'd joints,
Like strengthless hinges, buckle'1 under life,
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
Out of his keeper's amis; even so my limbs,
Weaken'd with grief, being now enrag'd with
grief,

Are thrice themselves: hence therefore, thou nice' crutch;

A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel,
Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly coif:
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,
To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland!
Let heaven kiss earth ! Now let not nature's hand
Keep the wild flood confined ! let order die!
And let this* world no longer be a stage,
To feed contention in a lingering 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!

Tha. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.'

Babe. Sweet carl, divorce not wisdom from

your honour. Mon. The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health; the which, if voir give o'er To stormy passion, must perforce decay.1" 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 dole1 of blows, your son might drop:
You knew, he walked o'er perils, on an edge,
More likely to fall in, than to get o'er;
You were advis'd,k his flesh was capable
Of wounds, and scars; and that his forward spirit
Would lift him where most trade" of danger ranged:
Yet did you say,—Go forth; and none of this,
Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
The Rtiif-borne action. What hath then befallen,
Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth,
More than that being which was like to be?

Babd. We all that are engaged to this loss,
Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous seas.
That, if we wrought out life, 'twas 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.

(*) First folio, Me. (f) First folio, was.

d Buckle under—] Bend under.

<" Thou nice crutch;] Nice means here effeminate.

f The ragged'Bt hour—] The roughest hour.

g Tba. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.] Tfl'; line is omitted in the folio.

h Must perforce decay.] The remainder of Morton's speed after this line, is omitted in the quarto.

I The dole of blows,—] The dealing, the distribution of blow'

k You were advis'd,—] You were aware.

1 Capable—] That is, susceptible, sensible. "Atonpst tbf galupin or silver paved way of heaven, conducted into the great hall of the gods, Mercury sprinkled me with water, which node me capable of their divine presence"-- Greene's Orphnrion, Ito, 1599, p. 7. See note (h), p. 297.

m H'here most trade—] Most traffic. See note (e), p. 473.