The land is burning, Percy stands on high,

And either we or they must lower lie. Exit

SIR JOHN

Rare words I Brave world! (Calling) Hostess, my

breakfast, come!—

O, I could wish this tavern were my drum! Exit

4.1 Enter Hotspur and the Earls of,Worcester and Douglas

HOTSPUR

Well said, my noble Scot ! If speaking truth

In this fine age were not thought flattery,

Such attribution should the Douglas have

As not a soldier of this season’s stamp

Should go so general current through the world.

By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy

The tongues of soothers, but a braver place

In my heart’s love hath no man than yourself.

Nay, task me to my word, approve me, lord.

DOUGLAS Thou art the king of honour.

No man so potent breathes upon the ground

But I will beard him.

HOTSPUR Do so, and ’tis well.

Enter a Messenger with letters

What letters hast thou there? I can but thank you.

MESSENGER These letters come from your father.

HOTSPUR

Letters from him? Why comes he not himself? 15

MESSENGER

He cannot come, my lord, he is grievous sick.

HOTSPUR

Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick

In such a jostling time? Who leads his power?

Under whose government come they along?

MESSENGER

His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord.

Hotspur reads the letter

WORCESTER

I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?

MESSENGER

He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;

And at the time of my departure thence

He was much feared by his physicians.

WORCESTER

I would the state of time had first been whole

Ere he by sickness had been visited.

His health was never better worth than now.

HOTSPUR

Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect

The very life-blood of our enterprise.

’Tis catching hither, even to our camp.

He writes me here that inward sickness stays him,

And that his friends by deputation

Could not so soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet

To lay so dangerous and dear a trust

On any soul removed but on his own.

Yet doth he give us bold advertisement

That with our small conjunction we should on,

To see how fortune is disposed to us;

For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,

Because the King is certainly possessed 40

Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

WORCESTER

Your father’s sickness is a maim to us.

HOTSPUR

A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off.

And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want

Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good

To set the exact wealth of all our states

All at one cast, to set so rich a main

On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?

It were not good, for therein should we read

The very bottom and the sole of hope,

The very list, the very utmost bound,

Of all our fortunes.

DOUGLAS

Faith, and so we should, where now remains

A sweet reversion—we may boldly spend

Upon the hope of what is to come in.

A comfort of retirement lives in this.

HOTSPUR

A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,

If that the devil and mischance look big

Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

WORCESTER

But yet I would your father had been here. 60

The quality and hair of our attempt

Brooks no division. It will be thought

By some that know not why he is away

That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike

Of our proceedings kept the Earl from hence;

And think how such an apprehension

May turn the tide of fearful faction,

And breed a kind of question in our cause.

For, well you know, we of the off’ring side

Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,

And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence

The eye of reason may pry in upon us.

This absence of your father’s draws a curtain

That shows the ignorant a kind of fear

Before not dreamt of.

HOTSPUR You strain too far.

I rather of his absence make this use:

It lends a lustre, and more great opinion,

A larger dare to our great enterprise,

Than if the Earl were here; for men must think

If we without his help can make a head 80

To push against a kingdom, with his help

We shall o’erturn it topsy-turvy down.

Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.

DOUGLAS

As heart can think, there is not such a word

Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.

Enter Sir Richard Vernon

HOTSPUR

My cousin Vernon! Welcome, by my soul!

VERNON

Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.

The Earl of Westmorland, seven thousand strong,

Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.

HOTSPUR

No harm. What more?

VERNON And further I have learned

The King himself in person is set forth,

Or hitherwards intended speedily,

With strong and mighty preparation.

HOTSPUR

He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,

The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,

And his comrades that daffed the world aside

And bid it pass?

VERNON All furnished, all in arms,