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The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury. | |
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Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, and VERNON. | |
| Hot. We’ll fight with him to-night. | |
| Wor. It may not be. | |
| Doug. You give him then advantage. | 5 |
| Ver. Not a whit. | |
| Hot. Why say you so? looks he not for supply? | |
| Ver. So do we. | |
| Hot. His is certain, ours is doubtful. | |
| Wor. Good cousin, be advis’d: stir not to-night. | 10 |
| Doug. You do not counsel well: | |
| You speak it out of fear and cold heart. | |
| Ver Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life,— | |
| And I dare well maintain it with my life,— | |
| If well-respected honour bid me on, | 15 |
| I hold as little counsel with weak fear | |
| As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives: | |
| Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle | |
| Which of us fears. | |
| Doug. Yea, or to-night. | 20 |
| Ver. Content. | |
| Hot. To-night, say I. | |
| Ver. Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much, | |
| Being men of such great leading as you are, | |
| That you foresee not what impediments | 25 |
| Drag back our expedition: certain horse | |
| Of my cousin Vernon’s are not yet come up: | |
| Your uncle Worcester’s horse came but to-day; | |
| And now their pride and mettle is asleep, | |
| Their courage with hard labour tame and dull, | 30 |
| That not a horse is half the half of himself. | |
| Hot. So are the horses of the enemy | |
| In general, journey-bated and brought low: | |
| The better part of ours are full of rest. | |
| Wor. The number of the king exceedeth ours: | 35 |
| For God’s sake, cousin, stay till all come in. [The trumpet sounds a parley. | |
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Enter SIR WALTER BLUNT. | |
| Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the king, | |
| If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect. | |
| Hot. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God | 40 |
| You were of our determination! | |
| Some of us love you well; and even those some | |
| Envy your great deservings and good name, | |
| Because you are not of our quality, | |
| But stand against us like an enemy. | 45 |
| Blunt. And God defend but still I should stand so, | |
| So long as out of limit and true rule | |
| You stand against anointed majesty. | |
| But, to my charge. The king hath sent to know | |
| The nature of your griefs, and whereupon | 50 |
| You conjure from the breast of civil peace | |
| 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,— | 55 |
| 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 | 60 |
| 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, | 65 |
| 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, | 70 |
| 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, | 75 |
| 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 | 80 |
| Even at the heels in golden multitudes. | |
| He presently, as greatness knows itself, | |
| Steps me a little higher than his vow | |
| Made to my father, while his blood was poor, | |
| Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh; | 85 |
| 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, | 90 |
| This seeming brow of justice, did he win | |
| The hearts of all that he did angle for; | |
| Proceeded further; cut me off the heads | |
| Of all the favourites that the absent king | |
| In deputation left behind him here, | 95 |
| 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; | 100 |
| 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 engag’d in Wales, | |
| There without ransom to lie forfeited; | 105 |
| Disgrac’d me in my happy victories; | |
| Sought to entrap me by intelligence; | |
| Rated my uncle from the council-board; | |
| In rage dismiss’d my father from the court; | |
| Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong; | 110 |
| And in conclusion drove us to seek out | |
| This head of safety; 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? | 115 |
| 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 my uncle | |
| Bring him our purposes; and so farewell. | 120 |
| Blunt. I would you would accept of grace and love. | |
| Hot. And may be so we shall. | |
| Blunt. Pray God, you do! [Exeunt. | |
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