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Tag Henry the Fourth
Prince Henry, afterwards Crowned King Henry the Fifth. Prince John of Lancaster,
Sons 10 Henry the Fourth, and
Humphrey of Gloucester,
Brethren to Henry the Fifth.
Thomas of Clarence,
The Arch-Bishop of York,
Opposites against King Henry
Of the King's Party,
Lord Chief Fuftice,
Shallow and Silence, Country Tuftices.
Davy, Servant to Shallow.
Phang and Snare, two Serjeants.
Doll Tear. Theet.
Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, &c.
PEN your Ears: For which of you
The vent of hearing, when loud Rumour
I, from the Orient,to the drooping West,
Making the Wind my Poft-horse, still
The Acts commenced on this Ball of Earth.
Upon my Tongue continual Slanders ride,
The which, in every Language, 1 pronounce,
Stuffing the Ears of them with false Reports:
I speak of Peace, while covert Enmity,
Under the smile of safety, wounds the World:
And who but Rumour, who but only I
Make fearful Musters, and prepard Defence;
Whilst the big Year, fwoln with some other Griefs,
Is thought with Child, by the stern Tyrant War;
And no such matter. Rumour is a Pipe
Blown by Surmises, Jealousies, Conjectures;
And of lo eafie, and to plain a stop,
That the blunt Monster, with uncounted Heads,
The still discordant, wavering Multitude,
Can play upon it. But what need Ithus
My well known Body to Anatomize
Among my Houshold? Why is Rumour here?
I run before King Harry's Victory,
Who in a bloody Field by Shrewsbury
Hath beaten down young. Hot.ffur, and his Troops,
Quenching the Flame of bold Rebellion,
Even with the Rebels Blood. But what mean I
To speak of Truth at first? My Office is
To noise abroad, that Harry Monmouth fell
Under the Wrath of noble Hot-spur's Sword:
And that the King, before the Dowglafs Rage,
Stoop'd his anointed Head, as low as Death.
This have I rumour'd through the Peasant Towns,
Between the Royal Field of Shrewsbury,
And this Worm-eaten hole of ragged Stone,
Where Hot spur's Father, old Northumberland,
Lyes crafty Sick. The Posts come tyring on,
And not a Man of them brings other Neu's
Than they have learn’d of me. From Rumour's Tongues,
They bring smooth-comforts-false, worse than true Wrongs.
Enter Lord Bardolf, and the Porter.
Bard. Who keeps the Gate, hoa?
Where is the Earls
Porter. What Ahall I say you are?
Bard. Tell thou the Earl,
That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
Porter. 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 comes the Earl.
North. What news, Lord Bardolph? Ev'ry minute now
Should be the Father of some Stratagem.
The Times are wild: Contention, like a Horse
Full of high Feeding madly hath broke loose;
And bears down all before him.
Bard. Noble Earl,
I bring you certain News from Shrewsbury.
North. Good, and Heav'n will.
Bard. As good as Heart can wish:
The King is almoft wounded to the Death:
And in the Fortune of my Lord your Son,
Prir.ce Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts
Killd by the Hand of Dowglass; young Prince John,
And Westmorland, and Stafford, Aed the Field.
And Harry Monmouth's Brawn, the Hulk Sir John,
Is Prisoner to your Son. O, such a Day,
So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won,
Came no“, 'till now, to dignifie the Times
Since C&'ar's Fortunes.
North. How is this deriv'd ?
Saw you the Field? Came you from Shrewsbury?
Bard. Ispake with one, my Lord, that came from thence
A Gentleman well bred, and of good Name,
Tbat freely render'd me this News for true.
North. Here comes my Servant Travers, whom I feat. On Tuesday last, to listen after News.
Enter Travers. Bard. My Lord, I over-rode him on the way. And he is furnith'd with no Certainties, More than he, haply, may retail from me, Norih. Now Travers, what good Tidings comes from your