Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land Audacious cruelty: If that the king
Have any way your good deserts forgot,- Which he confesseth to be manifold,-
He bids you name your griefs; and, with all speed, You shall have your desires, with interest;
And pardon absolute for yourself, and these, Herein misled by your suggestion.
Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the king
Knows at what time to promise, when to pay. My father, and my uncle, and myself, Did give him that same royalty he wears: And,-when he was not six and twenty strong, Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low, A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,— My father gave him welcome to the shore: And,-when he heard him swear, and vow to God, He came but to be duke of Lancaster, To sue his livery, and beg his peace; With tears of innocency, and terms of zeal,- My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd, Swore him assistance, and perform'd it too. Now, when the lords, and barons of the realm Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him, The more and less' came in with cap and knee; Met him in boroughs, cities, villages; Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes, Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths, Gave him their heirs; as pages follow'd him, Even at the heels, in golden multitudes. He presently,-as greatness knows itself,-
• To sue his livery,] This is a law phrase belonging to the feudal tenures; meaning, to sue out the delivery or possession of his lands from those persons who on the death of any of the tenants of the crown, seized their lands, till the heir sued out his livery. ↑ The more and less — ] i. e. the greater and the less.
Steps me a little higher than his vow Made to my father, while his blood was poor, Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurg; And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees, That lie too heavy on the commonwealth: Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep Over his country's wrongs; and, by this face, This seeming brow of justice, did he win The hearts of all that he did angle for. Proceeeded further; cut me off the heads Of all the favourites, that the absent king In deputation left behind him here, When he was personal in the Irish war. Blunt. Tut, I came not to hear this.
Hot. Then, to the point. In short time after, he depos'd the king; Soon after that, depriv'd him of his life;
And, in the neck of that, task'd the whole state:* To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman March (Who is, if every owner were well plac'd, Indeed his king,) to be incag'd in Wales, There without ransome to lie forfeited: Disgrac'd me in my happy victories ; Sought to entrap me by intelligence; Rated my uncle from the council-board; dismiss'd my father from the court;
In rage Broke oath on oath, And, in conclusion, This head of safety;
committed wrong on wrong: drove us to seek out
and, withal, to pry
Into his title, the which we find
Too indirect for long continuance.
Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the king?
task'd the whole state:] Task'd is here used for taxed; it was once common to employ these words indiscriminately. This head of safety ;] This army, from which I hope for protection.
Hot. Not so, sir Walter; we'll withdraw awhile.. Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd Some surety for a safe return again, And in the morning early shall mine uncle Bring him our purposes: and so farewell. Blunt. I would, you would accept of
Hot. And, may be, so we shall.
York. 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 you knew
How much they do import, you would make haste. Gent. My good lord,
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,) 2
sealed brief,] A brief is simply a letter.
in the first proportion,] Whose quota was larger than that of any other man in the confederacy.
And what with Owen Glendower's absence, thence, (Who with them was a rated sinew too,3 And comes not in, o'er-ruled 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 Douglas,
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.
Arch. And so there is: but yet the king hath drawn
The special head of all the land together;- The prince of Wales, lord John of Lancaster, The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt ; And many more cor-rivals, and dear men Of estimation and command in arms.
Gent. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well oppos'd.
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.
rated sinew too,] A rated sinew signifies a strength on which we reckoned; a help of which we made account.
SCENE I. The King's Camp near Shrewsbury.
Enter King HENRY, Prince HENRY, Prince JOHN of Lancaster, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and Sir JOHN FALSTAFF.
K. Hen. How bloodily the sun begins to peer Above yon busky hill!* the day looks pale At his distemperature.
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes;
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves, Foretells a tempest, and a blustering day.
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 deceiv'd our trust; And made us doff our easy robes of peace, To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel: That is not well, my lord, this is not well. What say you 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 'exhal'd meteor, A prodigy of fear, and a portent
busky hill!] Busky is woody. (Bosquet, Fr.) Milton writes the word perhaps more properly, bosky.
to his purposes;] That is, to the sun's, to that which the sun portends by his unusual appearance.
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