THE SECOND PART O F King HENRY IV. O' I, ACT I. INDUCTION. Enter RUMOUR, painted full of Tongues. PEN your ears: for which of you will stop The vent of hearing, when loud Rumour speaks? from the orient to the drooping weft, Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold The acts commenced on this ball of earth. Upon my tongues continual flanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports: I fpeak of peace, while covert enmity, Under the smile of fafety, wounds the world And who but Rumour, who but only I, Make fearful mufters and prepar'd defence, Whilft the big ear, fwoln with fome other griefs, Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, And no fuch matter? Rumour is a pipe Blown by furmifes, jealoufies, conjectures ; And And of fo eafie and fo plain a stop, That the blunt monfter with uncounted heads, Hath beaten down young Hot-fpur and his troops 3 Than they have learn'd of me. From Rumour's tongues, SCENE I. Northumberland's Caftle. [Exit Enter Lord Bardolph; the Porter at the door. Bard. Who keeps the gate here, hoa? where is the Earl Port. What fhall I fay you are? Bard. Tell thou the Earl, 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. Bard. Here's the Earl. North. What news, Lord Bardolph? ev'ry minute now Should be the father of fome ftratagem. The times are wild: Contention, like a horfe And And bears down all before him. Bard. Noble Earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. Bard. As good as heart can wifh : The King is almost wounded to the death: Prince Harry flain outright; and both the Blunts 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 fent On Tuesday laft, to liften 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. SCENE II. Enter Travers. North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with you? Tra. My Lord, Sir John Umfrevil turn'd me back With joyful tidings; and being better hors'd Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard A gentleman, almost fore-spent with speed, That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horfe: He afk'd the way to Chefter; and of him I did demand what news from Shrewsbury? He told me that rebellion had ill luck, And that young Harry Percy's fpur was cold. With that he gave his able horse the head, And bending forward, ftruck his agile heels Against the panting fides of his poor jade Up to the rowel-head, and starting fo, H 3 He He feem'd in running to devour the way, Said he young Harry Percy's fpur was cold ? Bard, My Lord, I'll tell you. If my young Lord your fon hath not the day, North. Why should the gentleman, that rode by Travers, Give then fuch inftances of lofs ? Bard. Who, he? He was fome hilding fellow, that had ftol'n Spake at adventure. Look, here comes more news. North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, So looks the trond, whereon th' imperious flood Say, Morton, didft thou come from Shrewsbury? North. How doth my fon, and brother? But North. Why, he is dead. See what a ready tongue suspicion hath ; He that but fears the thing he would not know, That what he fear'd is chanc'd. Yet, Morton, fpeak 4 And I will take it as a fweet difgrace, And make thee rich for doing me fuch wrong. Mort. You are too great, to be by me gainfaid: Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. North. You, for all this, fay not that Percy's dead, Thou fhak'ft thy head, and hold'ft it fear, or fin, Bard. I cannot think, my Lord, your fon is dead, From whence, with life, he never more fprung up. Lend |