« EdellinenJatka »
King Henry The Fourth:
Henry, Prime of Wales, aftenoards^
Thomas, Duke of Chrence;
Princk John of 'Lancaster, afterward* \his Sons. (2 Henry V.) Dukv. <//Bedford;
Prince Iiimpiihkv of (Jloster, afterwards (2 Henry V.) Dukta/Closcer;
Earl of Warwick; \ .
E srl of Westmoreland; V of the King's Parti/.
Gower; Harcourt; )
Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench.
A Gentleman attending on the Chief Justice.
Earl of Northumberland; .
Scroop, Archbishop of York; f Enemies to the
Lord Mowbray; Lord Hastings; ( King.
Lord Bardolph; Sir John Colevile :)
Travi Rs an:l Morton, Domestics />/* Northumberland.
FalStaff, Bardolph, Pistol, arid Page.
Poins and Peto, Attendants on Prince Henry,
Shallow and Silence, Country Justices.
Davy, Servant to Shallow.
Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, and Bullcalf, Recruits.
Fang and Snare, Sheriff's Officers.
Rumor. A Porter.
A Dancer, Speaker of the Epilogue.
Lady Northumberland. Lady Percy.
Lords, and other Attendants; Officers, Soldiers, Messenger, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, fyc,
SECOND PART OF
KING HENRY THE FOURTH.
Warkworth. Before Northumberland's Castle.
Enter Rumor, painted full of tongues.1
Rumor. Open your oars; for which of you will stop The vent of hearing, when loud Rumor speaks? I, from the orient to the drooping west, Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold The acts commenced on this ball of earth. Upon my tongues continual slanders ride; The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the oars of men with false reports. I speak of peace, while covert enmity, Under the smile of safety, wounds the world; And who but Rumor, who but only I, Make fearful musters, and prepared defence; Whilst the big ear, swollen with some other grief, Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, And no such matter? Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures; And of so easy and so plain a stop,2 That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude,
1 In a misk on St. Stophon's Nijrlit, 1014, by Thomas Campion, Rumor comes on in a s'jin co:tt J'u.11 of winged tongues.
2 The stops are the holes in a flute or pipe.
Can play upon it. But what need I thus
SCENE I. The same. The Porter before the Gate.
Enter Lord Bardolph.
Bardolph. Who keeps the gate here, ho ?—Where
is the earl? Port. What shall I say you are? Bard. Tell thou the earl,
That the lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
Port. His lordship is walked forth into the orchard.
1 Northumberland's castle.
Please it your honor, knock but at the gate,
Bard. Here comes the earl.
North. What news, lord Bardolph? Every 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, an Heaven w7ill!
Bard. As good as heart can wish.—
The king is almost wounded to the death;
North. How is this derived?
Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury?
Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence; A gentleman well-bred, and of good name, That freely rendered me these news for true.
North. Here comes my servant, Travers, whom i sent On Tuesday last to listen after news.
Bard. My lord, I overrode him on the way;
North. Now, Travers, whit good tidings come with yon?
Tra. My lord, sir John Umfrevile turned me back With joytli! tidings; and, being better horsed, Outrode me. After him, came, spurring hard, A gentleman almost forspent1 with speed, That stopped by me to breathe his bloodied horse. lie asked the way to Chester; and of him 1 did demand, what news from Shrewsbury. He told me, that rebellion had bad luck, And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. With that he gave his able horse the head, And, bending forward, struck his armed heels Against the panting sides of his poor jade Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so, He seemed in running to devour the way, Staying no longer question.
North. Ha! Again.
Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
Bard. My lord, Pll tell you what;
If my young lord your son have not the day,
North. Why should the gentleman, that rode by
Bard. Who, he?
lie was some hilding3 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, Foretells the nature of a tragic volume;
1 Exhausted. 2 A silken point is a tagged lace.
3 i. e. HiUtrling, base, low fellow.