L. Bard. My lord, I’ll tell you what:

If my young lord your son have not the day, 52
30 over-rode: passed 43 able: active
37 forspent: exhausted 48 Staying: awaiting question : talk
King Henry the Fourth, /, i
5
Upon mine honour, for a silken point I’ll give my barony: never talk of it.
North. Why should the gentleman that rode by Travers
Give then such instances of loss ?
L.Bard. Who, he? 56
He was some hilding fellow that had stolen The horse he rode on, and, upon my life,
Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.
Enter Morton .
North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, 60 Foretells the nature of a tragic volume:
So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood Hath left a witness’d usurpation.
Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? 64, Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask To fright our party.
North. How doth my son, and brother?
Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek 6£ Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone.
Drew Priam’s curtain in the dead of night, 72
And would have told him half his Troy was burn’d; But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue.
And I my Percy’s death ere thou report’st it.
This thou wouldst say, ‘Your son did thus and thus; 76 Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas’; Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds:
But in the end, to stop mine ear indeed,
Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, 80
S3 point: lacing, garter 57 hildingr: worthless
62 strond: shore 63 witness’d usurpation : traces of its usurpation
69 apter : more ready
The Second Part of
Ending with ‘Brother, son, and all are dead.’
Mor. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; But, for my lord your son, —
North. Why, he is dead. —
See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! 84
He that but fears the thing he would not know Hath by instinct knowledge from others’ eyes That what he fear’d is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; Tell thou thy earl his divination lies, 88
And I will take it as a sweet disgrace And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.
Mor. You are too great to be by me gainsaid; Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. 92 North. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy’s dead. I see a strange confession in thine eye:
Thou shak’st thy head, and hold’st it fear or sin To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; 96
The tongue offends not that reports his death:
And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,
Not he which says the dead is not alive.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news io»
Hath but a losing office, and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember’d knolling a departing friend.
L.Bard. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. 104
Mor. I am sorry I should force you to believe That which I would to God I had not seen;
But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state. Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-
breath’d, 108
To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down The never-daunted Percy to the earth,
87 is chanced: has happened 108 quittance: return of blows
King Henry the Fourth, /„ i
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From whence with life he never more sprung up.
In few, his death, — whose spirit lent a fire lia Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, —
Being bruited once, took fire and heat away From the best-temper’d courage in his troops;
For from his metal was his party steel’d; lit
Which once in him abated, all the rest
Turn’d on themselves, like dull and heavy lead:
And as the thing that’s heavy in itself.
Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, 12®
So did our men, heavy in Hotspur’s loss.
Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, 124 Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester Too soon ta’en prisoner; and that furious Scot,
The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword Had three times slain the appearance of the king, 12s ’Gan vail his stomach, and did grace the shame Of those that turn’d their backs ; and in his flight. Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all Is, that the king hath won, and hath sent out 13» A speedy power to encounter you, my lord.
Under the conduct of young Lancaster And Westmoreland. This is the news at full.
North. For this I shall have time enough to mourn. 138
In poison there is physic; and these news.
Having been well, that would have made me sick, Being sick, have in some measure made me well:
And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken’d joints, 140
112 In few: in short 114 bruited: rumored
116-118 C/.n. 128 Cf. n
129 ’Gan vail his stomach: began to lower Ins arrogant sptrst did grace: reflected credit on, set in a good light
8
The Second Part of
Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life.
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire Out of his keeper’s arms, even so my limbs.
Weaken’d with grief, being now enrag’d with grief, 144
Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch !
A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! Thou art a guard too wanton for the head 148
Which princes, flesh’d with conquest, aim to hit.
Now bind my brows with iron; and approach The ragged’st hour that time and spite dare bring To frown upon the enrag’d Northumberland! 152 Let heaven kiss earth ! now let not nature’s hand Keep the wild flood confin’d ! let order die !
And let this world no longer be a stage
To feed contention in a lingering act; 156
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
On bloody courses, the rude scene may end.
And darkness be the burier of the dead ! 160
Tra. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.