Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, Among my household? Why is Rumour here? Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true 20 30 [Exit. 40 37. crafty-sick. Holinshed says nothing of a real or feigned sickness of Northumberland. 37. tiring on, probably riding hard, without a pause. Enter LORD BARDOLPH. L. Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho? The Porter opens the gate. Where is the earl? Tell thou the earl Port. What shall I say you are? L. Bard. That the Lord Bardolph 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. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. L. Bard. Here comes the earl. North. What news, Lord Bardolph ? every minute now Should be the father of some stratagem: L. Bard. Noble earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. North. Good, an God will! L. Bard. As good as heart can wish: The king is almost wounded to the death; 8. stratagem, dreadful or amazing deed. And, in the fortune of my lord your son, Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts John And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; North. Saw you How is this derived? A gentleman well bred and of good name, North. Here comes my servant Travers, whom On Tuesday last to listen after news. Enter TRAVERS. 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. 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 horsed, I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: 37. forspent, utterly exhausted. 20 30 He told me that rebellion had bad luck North. Ha! Again: Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Had met ill luck? L. Bard. 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? L. Bard. Who, he? 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 news. Enter MORTON. North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a titleleaf, Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? 53. point, the tagged lace that supported the hose. 56. instances, evidences. 57. hilding, base groom. 62. whereon, SO Q; 'when.' 50 60 Ff 63. a witness'd usurpation, witnesses of its usurpation. Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask To fright our party. Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas :' North. Why, he is dead. He that but fears the thing he would not know Morton; Tell thou an earl his divination lies, And I will take it as a sweet disgrace And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. I see a strange confession in thine eye: 70 80 90 |