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Enter Bullingbrooke with the duke of Yorke. $
King. Kind * vncle Yorke, the latest newes we heare,
Is, that the rebels haue consumed with fire
Our towne + Ciceter in Glocestershire :
But whether they be tane or Naine, we heare not:
Welcome my lord, what is the newes?

Enter Northumberland.

North. First, to thy sacred state with I all happinesse;
The next newes is, I haue to London fent
The heads of Oxford, Salisburie, and Kent : 1
The manner of their taking may appeare
At large discourfed in this paper heere.

King. We thanke thee gentle Percie for thy paines,
And to thy worth will adde right worthy gaines.

Enter lord Fitzwater.

Fitz. My lord, I haue from Oxford sent to London,
The heads of Broccas, and sir Benet Seely;
Two of the dangerous conforted traytors,
That sought at Oxford thy dire ouerthrow.

King. Thy paines Fitz || : shall not be forgot,
Right noble is thy merit well I wot.

Enter Henrie Percie. Sý Per. The graund conspirator abbot of Westminster, With clogge of conscience and sowre melancholie, Hath yeelded vp his body to the graue; But here is Carleil liuing, to abide Thy kingly doome, and sentence of his pride. $ Flourish. Enter Bullingbrooke, Yorke, with other lords and attendants. Kind omitted. t towne of. 1 Salisburie, Spencer, Blunt, and Kont. || Firzwater, ff and Carlile.

King. Carleil, this is your doome,
Choose out some secret place, fome reuerend roome
More then thou hast, and with it ioy thy life *,
So as thou liu'st in peace, die free from strife:
For though mine enemie thou hast euer been,
High sparkes of honour in thee haue I + seene.

Enter Exton with the cofin.
Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present
Thy buried feare : heerein all breathlesse lies
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
Richard of Burdeaux, by me hither brought.

King, Exton, I thanke thee not, for thou hast wrought
A deede of Naughter with thy fatall hand,
V pon my head, and all this famous land.

Exton. From your owne mouth (my lo I.) did I this deed

King. They loue not poyson, that do poyson need,
Nor doe I thee, though I did wish him dead;
I hate the murtherer, loue him murthered :
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word, nor princelie fauour:
With Caine go wander through the shade of night,
And neuer sew thy head by day nor light.
Lords, I protest my foule is full of woe,
That blood should sprinckle me to i make me grow:
Come mourne with me, for what I doe lament,
And put on sullen blacke incontinent:
Ile make a voyage to the Holy Land,
To wash this blood off from my guiltie hand.
March fadly after, grace my mournings heere,
In weeping after this vntimely beere.

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H I S T O RY

OF

HENRY the Fourth,

WITH THE

Battell at Shrewseburie, betweene the

King, and Lord Henrie Percy, surnamed Henrie Hotspur of the North.

With the Humorous Conceites of

Sir IOHN FALSTAFFE.

Newly corrected by W. SHAKESPEARE.

London, Printed by W. W. for Matthew Law, and are to be sold at his Shop in Paules Church-yard, neere vnto S. Augustines Gate, at the Signe

of the Foxe. 1613.

* This Copy has been collated with the following.

Henry the Fourth 1599, S. S. for Andrew Wise.

1632 I. Norton, sold by W. Sheares. 1639 Ditto, sold by Hugh Perry.

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