SECOND PART OF KING HENRY IV. SCENE I.-The same. ACT I. 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 walk'd forth into the orchard; Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, And he himself will answer. Enter Northumberland. Bard. Here comes the earl. North. What news, lord Bardolph ? every minute now Should be the father of some stratagem:1 The times are wild; contention, like a horse Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, Bard. Noble earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. Bard. As good as heart can wish :— Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts [1] Stratagem means here some important or dreadful event. VOL. V. MASON. North. How is this deriv'd? Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? Bar. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence; A gentleman well bred, and of good name, That freely render'd 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 over-rode him on the way; And he is furnish'd with no certainties, More than he haply may retail from me. Enter TRAVERS. North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with you? That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse: Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Had met ill luck! Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what ; If my young lord your son have not the day, I'll give my barony: never talk of it. North. Why should the gentleman, that rode by Travers, Give then such instances of loss? Bard. Who, he? He was some hilding fellow, that had stol'n The horse he rode on and, upon my life, [2] I think that I have observed in old prints the rowel of those times to have been only a single spike. JOHNSON. [3] So in Job, xxxix. "He swalloweth the ground in fierceness and rage." [4] A point is a string tagged, or lace. JOHNSON. Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, So looks the strond, whereon th' imperious flood Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? North. How doth my son, and brother? See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath ! Yet speak, Morton; Tell thou thy earl, his divination lies; I see a strange confession in thine eye : 6 Thou shak'st thy head; and hold'st it fear, or sin, [5] It may not be amiss to observe, that, in the time of our poet, the title-page to an elegy, as well as every intermediate leaf, was totally black. [6] Fear for danger. W KEURTON. STEEVENS. |