North.
Now, Travers, what good tidings come with you?

Tra.
My lord, Sir John Umfrevil turn'd me back
With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd,
Out-rode me. &wlquo;After him came spurring hard
&wlquo;A gentleman, almost fore-spent with speed,
&wlquo;That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse:
&wlquo;He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him
&wlquo;I did demand what news from Shrewsbury.
&wlquo;He told me, that Rebellion had ill luck;
&wlquo;And that young Harry Percy's Spur was cold.
&wlquo;With that he gave his able horse the head,
&wlquo;And, bending forward, struck his agile heels
&wlquo;Against the panting sides of his poor jade
&wlquo;Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so,
&wlquo;He seem'd in running to devour the way,&wrquo;
Staying no longer question.

North.
Ha? again:
Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
Rebellion had ill luck?

Bard.
My lord, I'll tell you;
If my young lord your son have not the day,
Upon mine Honour, for a silken point
I'll give my Barony. Ne'er talk of it.

North.
Why should the gentleman, that rode by Travers,
Give then such instances of loss?

Bard.
Who he?
He was ^{2 note}some hilding fellow, that had stoll'n
The horse he rode on; and, upon my life,
Spake at adventure. Look, here comes more news.

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