Page:The North American Review Volume 145.djvu/73
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 The Second Part of Henry the Fourth, Actus Primus. Scæna Prima. Indvction. Enter Rumour.  Pen your Eares: For which of you will stopThe vent of Hearing, when loud Rumor speakes?I, from the Orient, to the drooping West(Making the winde my Post-horse) still vnfoldThe Acts commenced on this Ball of Earth.Vpon my Tongue, continuall Slanders ride,The which, in euery Language, I pronounce,Stuffing the Eares of them with false Reports:I speake of Peace, while couert Enmitie(Vnder the smile of Safety) wounds the World:And who but Rumour, who but onely IMake fearfull Musters, and prepar'd Defence,Whil'st the bigge yeare, swolne with some other griefes,Is thought with childe, by the sterne Tyrant, Warre,And no such matter? Rumour, is a PipeBlowne by Surmises, Ielousies, Coniectures;And of so easie, and so plaine a stop,That the blunt Monster, with vncounted heads,The still discordant, wauering Multitude,Can play vpon it. But what neede I thusMy well-knowne Body to AnathomizeAmong my houshold? Why is Rumour heere?I run before King Harries victory,Who in a bloodie field by ShrewsburieHath beaten downe yong Hotspurre, and his Troopes,Quenching the flame of bold Rebellion,Euen with the Rebels blood. But what meane ITo speake so true at first? My Office isTo noyse abroad, that Harry Monmouth fellVnder the Wrath of Noble Hotspurres Sword:And that the King, before the Dowglas RageStoop'd his Annointed head, as low as death.This haue I rumour'd through the peasant-Townes,Betweene the Royall Field of Shrewsburie,And this Worme-eaten-Hole of ragged Stone,Where Hotspurres Father, old Northumberland,Lyes crafty sicke. The Postes come tyring on,And not a man of them brings other newesThen they haue learn'd of Me. From Rumours Tongues,They bring smooth-Comforts-false, worse then True-wrongs. Exit.
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Scena Secunda. Enter Lord Bardolfe, and the Porter. L.Bar. Who keepes the Gate heere hoa?Where is the Earle? Por. What shall I say you are? Bar. Tell thou the EarleThat the Lord Bardolfe doth attend him heere. Por. His Lordship is walk'd forth into the Orchard,Please it your Honor, knocke but at the Gate,And he himselfe will answer. Enter Northumberland. L.Bar. Heere comes the Earle. Nor. What newes Lord Bardolfe? Eu'ry minute nowShould be the Father of some Stratagem;The Times are wilde: Contention (like a HorseFull of high Feeding) madly hath broke loose,And beares downe all before him. L.Bar. Noble Earle,I bring you certaine newes from Shrewsbury. Nor. Good, and heauen will. L.Bar. As good as heart can wish:The King is almost wounded to the death:And in the Fortune of my Lord your Sonne,Prince Harrie slaine out-right: and both the BluntsKill'd by the hand of Dowglas. Yong Prince Iohn,And Westmerland, and Stafford, fled the Field.And Harrie Monmouth's Brawne (the Hulke Sir Iohn)Is prisoner to your Sonne. O, such a Day,(So fought, so follow'd, and so fairely wonne)Came not, till now, to dignifie the TimesSince Cæsars Fortunes. Nor. How is this deriu'd?Saw you the Field? Came you from Shrewsbury? L.Bar. I spake with one (my L.) that came frõ thence,A Gentleman well bred, and of good name,That freely render'd me these newes for true. Nor. Heere comes my Seruant Trauers, whom I sentOn Tuesday last, to listen after Newes. Enter Trauers. L.Bar. My Lord, I ouer-rod him on the way,And he is furnish'd with no certainties,More then he (haply) may retaile from me. Nor. Now Trauers, what good tidings comes from you? Tra. |