He that rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great, I'll grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly as a nobleman should do.
Exit SCENE V. Another part of the field. The trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, LORDJOHN LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, with WORCESTER and VERNON prisoners KING HENRY IV Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.
Ill-spirited Worcester! did not we send grace, Pardon and terms of love to all of you?
And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary?
Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust?
Three knights upon our party slain to-day, A noble earl and many a creature else Had been alive this hour, If like a Christian thou hadst truly borne Betwixt our armies true intelligence. EARL OF WORCESTER What I have done my safety urged me to;And I embrace this fortune patiently, Since not to be avoided it falls on me. KING HENRY IV Bear Worcester to the death and Vernon too:
Other offenders we will pause upon.
Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON, guarded How goes the field? PRINCE HENRY The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him, The noble Percy slain, and all his men Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest;And falling from a hill, he was so bruised That the pursuers took him. At my tent The Douglas is; and I beseech your grace I may dispose of him. KING HENRY IV With all my heart. PRINCE HENRY Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you This honourable bounty shall belong:
Go to the Douglas, and deliver him Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free:
His valour shown upon our crests to-day Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds Even in the bosom of our adversaries. LANCASTER I thank your grace for this high courtesy, Which I shall give away immediately. KING HENRY IV Then this remains, that we divide our power.
You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland Towards York shall bend you with your dearest speed, To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop, Who, as we hear, are busily in arms:
Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales, To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.
Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, Meeting the cheque of such another day:
And since this business so fair is done, Let us not leave till all our own be won.
ExeuntHenry IV, part 2: Entire Play The Second Part of King Henry the Fourth by William Shakespeare Induction Warkworth. Before the castle Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues RUMOUR Open your ears; for which of you will stop The vent of hearing when loud Rumour 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 ears of men 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 prepared defence, Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it. But what need I thus My well-known body to anatomize Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before King Harry's victory;
Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, Quenching the flame of bold rebellion Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean ITo speak so true at first? my office is To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, And that the king before the Douglas' rage Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns Between that royal field of Shrewsbury And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, And not a man of them brings other news Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.
