King.
So shaken as we are, so wan ^note with care,
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
To be commenced in stronds ^note afar remote.
No more the thirsty entrance ^{note note} of this soil
Shall daub ^note her lips ^note with her own children's blood;
No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
Nor bruise her flowerets ^note with the armed hoofs
Of hostile paces ^note: those opposed eyes ^note,

Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of one substance bred,
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And furious close of civil butchery
Shall now, in mutual ^note well-beseeming ranks,
March all one way and be no more opposed
Against acquaintance, kindred and allies ^note:
The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,
Whose soldier ^note now, under whose blessed cross
We are impressed and engaged to fight,
Forthwith a ^note power of English shall we levy ^note;
Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' ^note womb ^note
To chase these ^note pagans in those ^note holy fields
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd
For our advantage on the bitter cross.
But this our purpose now is twelve month ^note old,
And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go:
Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear
Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
What yesternight our council did decree
In forwarding this ^note dear expedience.

West.
My liege, this haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the charge set down
But yesternight: when all athwart there came
A post from Wales loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire ^note to fight

Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands ^note of that Welshman taken,
A thousand ^note of his people butchered;
Upon whose dead corpse ^note there was such misuse,
Such beastly shameless ^note transformation,
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be
Without much shame retold ^note or spoken of.

King.
It seems then that the tidings of this broil
Brake off our business for the Holy Land.

West.
This match'd with other did ^note, my gracious lord;
For more ^note uneven and unwelcome news
Came from the north and thus it did import ^note:
On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot, ^note
At Holmedon met ^note,
Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
As by discharge of their artillery,
And shape of likelihood, the ^note news was told;
For he that brought them ^note, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

King.
Here is a dear, a true ^note industrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
Stain'd ^note with the variation ^note of each soil

Betwixt that ^note Holmedon and this seat of ours;
And he hath brought us smooth and welcome ^note news.
The Earl of Douglas is discomfited:
Ten thousand bold Scots, two ^note and twenty knights,
Balk'd ^note in their own blood did ^note Sir Walter see
On Holmedon's ^note plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took
Mordake the ^note Earl of Fife, and ^note eldest son ^note
To ^note beaten Douglas; and the Earl ^note of Athol,
Of Murray ^note, Angus ^note, and ^note Menteith:
And is not this an honourable spoil?
A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?

West.
In faith,
It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. ^note

King.
Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin
In envy that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father to ^note so blest a son,
A son who is the theme of honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride:
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow
Of my young Harry. O that it could ^note be proved
That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay ^note,

And call'd ^note mine Percy, his Plantagenet!
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz ^note,
Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,
Which he in this adventure hath surprised,
To his own use he keeps; and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.

West.
This is his uncle's teaching: this is Worcester,
Malevolent to you in all aspects;
Which makes him prune ^note himself, and bristle up
The crest of youth against your dignity.

King.
But I have sent for him to answer this;
And for this cause awhile we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. ^note
Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
Will hold at Windsor; so ^note inform ^note the lords:
But come yourself with speed to us again;
For more is to be said and to be done ^note
Than out of anger can be uttered.

West.
I will, my liege. [Exeunt.

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