Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, Bard. Noble earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. Bard. As good as heart can wish :- North. How is this deriv'd? Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? Bard. I fpake 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. North. Here comes my fervant Travers, whom I sent On Tuesday last to listen after news. 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. Enter Travers. North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with you? Tra. My lord, fir John Umfrevile turn'd me back With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd, Oút-rode me. After him, came, spurring hard, A gentle. A gentleman almost forspent with speed, North. Ha! h Again. Said he, young Harry Percy's fpur was cold? Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what ;- I'll give my barony: never talk of it. North. Why should the gentleman, that rode by Travers, Give then fuch " inftances of lofs? m Bard. Who, he? He was fome" hilding fellow, that had ftol'n Spoke at adventure. Look, here comes more news. devour the way,]-an expreffion of great hafte. "I drink the air before me i Again Say that again. TEMPEST, Vol. I. p. 73. Ariel. Of Hotspur,-A common term for a vehement, precipitate perfon. a filken point]—a ftring, or lace tagg'd. bilding]-bafe. infances]-proofs, Enter Morton. North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, Foretells the nature of a tragick volume: So looks the ftrond, whereon the imperious flood Say, Morton, did'ft thou come from Shrewsbury? North. How doth my son, and brother? Thou trembleft; and the whitenefs in thy cheek Even fuch a man, fo faint, fo fpiritless, So dull, fo dead in look, fo woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd: And I my Percy's death, ere thou report'st it. But in the end, to ftop mine ear indeed, Thou haft a figh to blow away this praise, Mort. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet: But for my lord your fon, North. Why, he is dead. See, what a ready tongue fufpicion hath! He, that but fears the thing he would not know, That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet fpeak, Morton ; a title-leaf,]-the black title-page to an elegy. ► fo woe-begone,]—fo far gone in woe. And And I will take it as a fweet difgrace, Mort. You are too great to be by me gainfaid: Bard. Yet, for all this, fay not that Percy's dead, North. I fee a ftrange confeffion in thine eye, Thou fhak'ft thy head, and hold'st it fear, or fin, To speak a truth. If he be flain, fay fo.. The tongue offends not, that reports his death; And he doth fin, that doth belie the dead; Not he that faith the dead is not alive. Mort. Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your fon is dead. From whence with life he never more fprung up. In few, his death (whofe fpirit lent a fire Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. Spirit]-prefentiment. quittance]-return, oppofition. abated, all the rest turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead.]being reduced to a lower temper, the edge of his party was blunted, and became as lead. Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed; North. For this I fhall have time enough to mourn. "Having been well, that would have made me fick, Out of his keeper's arms; even fo my limbs, Must glove this hand: and hence, thou fickly quoif; " vail bis Romach,]-Began to droop, to let his courage fink under his misfortunes. buckle-bend. ▸ flefb'd]—fred; flußb’d. Having been well,-Had I been well. - grief. a • quoif; cap. The |