PART

his sons.

RUMOUR, the Presenter.

KING HENRY the Fourth.

HENRY, Prince of Wales, afterwards King Henry V.,

THOMAS, Duke of Clarence,

PRINCE JOHN of Lancaster,

PRINCE HUMPHREY of Gloucester,

EARL OF WARWICK.

EARL OF WESTMORELAND.

EARL OF SURREY.

Lord Chief-Justice of the King's Bench.

A Servant of the Chief-Justice.

EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND.

SCROOP, Archbishop of York.
LORD MOWBRAY.

LORD HASTINGS.

LORD BARDOLPH.

SIR JOHN COLEVILE.

TRAVERS and MORTON, retainers of Northumberland.

MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, and BULLCALF, recruits. FANG and SNARE, sheriff's officers.

MISTRESS QUICKLY, hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap.

Lords and Attendants; Porter, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, &c.

A Dancer, speaker of the Epilogue.

SCENE: England.

Warkworth. Before the Castle.

Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues.

Rumour. Open your ears; for which of you will stop The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?

I, from the orient to the drooping west,

Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
The acts commenced on this ball of earth.
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
The which in every language I pronounce,

Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I speak of peace, while covert enmity
Under the smile of safety wounds the world;
And who but Rumour, who but only I,

Make fearful musters and prepar'd defence,
Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief,
Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
And of so easy and so plain a stop

That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wavering multitude,
Can play upon it. But what need I thus
My well-known body to anatomize

Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before King Harry's victory;
Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury

Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,
Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I
To speak so true at first? my office is
To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell
Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword,
And that the king before the Douglas' rage
Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns
Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,
Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
Lies crafty-sick; the posts come tiring on,
And not a man of them brings other news

Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.

10

20

30

39

[Exit.

SCENE I. The Same.

Enter LORD BARDOLPH.

Lord Bardolph. Who keeps the gate here, ho?—

The Porter opens the gate.

Porter. What shall I say you are?

Where is the earl?