ACT IV. SCENE I. THE REBEL CAMP NEAR SHREWSBURY. Enter Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas. Hot. Well said, my noble Scot: If speaking truth, In this fine age, were not thought flattery, Such attribution should the Douglas have, As not a soldier of this season's stamp Should go so general current through the world. By heaven, I cannot flatter; I defy The tongues of soothers: but a braver place In my heart's love, hath no man than yourself: Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord. Doug. Thou art the king of honour: No man so potent breathes upon the ground, But I will beard him. Hot. Do so, and 'tis well. Enter a Messenger, with Letters, What letters hast thou there?-I can but thank you. Mess. These letters come from your father, Hot. Letters from him! why comes he not him self? Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievous sick. Hot. 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick, In such a justling time? Who leads his power? Mess. His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord. And at the time of my departure thence, Wor. I would, the state of time had first been whole, Ere he by sickness had been visited; His health was never better worth than now. Hot. Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infect The very life-blood of our enterprize; G The very list, the very utmost bound Of all our fortunes. Doug. 'Faith, and so we should; Where now remains a sweet reversion: We may boldly spend upon the hope of what A comfort of retirement lives in this. Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, If that the devil and mischance look big Upon the maidenhead of our affairs. Wor. But yet I would your father had been here. The quality and hair of our attempt Brooks no division: It will be thought By some, that know not why he is away, That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike Of our proceedings, kept the earl from hence; And think, how such an apprehension May turn the tide of fearful faction, And breed a kind of question in our cause: For, well you know, we of the offering side Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement; And stop all sight-holes, every loop, from whence The eye of reason may pry in upon us: This absence of your father's draws a curtain, That shows the ignorant a kind of fear Before not dreamt of. Hot. You strain too far. I, rather, of his absence make this use;- To push against the kingdom; with his help, Doug. As heart can think: there is not such a word Spoke of in Scotland, as this term of fear. Enter Sir Richard Vernon. Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul. Ver. Pray God, my news be worth a welcome, lord. The earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong, Is marching hitherwards; with him, prince John. Hot. No harm: What more? Ver. And further, I have learn'd, The king himself in person is set forth, Or hitherwards intended speedily, With strong and mighty preparation. Hot. He shall be welcome too. Where is his son, The nimble-footed mad-cap prince of Wales, And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside, And bid it pass? Ver. All furnish'd, all in arms, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, And witch the world with noble horsemanship. Hot. No more, no more; worse than the sun in This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come; And yet not ours: - Come, let me take my horse, Meet, and ne'er part, till one drop down a corse. O, that Glendower were come! Ver. There is more news: I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along, Doug. That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet. unto? Ver. To thirty thousand. Hot. Forty let it be; My father and Glendower being both away, |