L. Bard. As good as heart can wish.

The king is almost wounded to the death;
And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts IS Kill’d by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field;
And Harry Monmouth’s brawn, the hulk Sir John,
Is prisoner to your son: O! such a day, 2®
So fought, so follow’d, and so fairly won,
Came not till now to dignify the times Since Caesar’s fortunes.
North. How is this deriv’d?
Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? 24