Did you beg any? God forbid!
EARL OF WORCESTER
I told him gently of our grievances,
Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,
By now forswearing that
he is forsworn:
He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge
With haughty arms this hateful name in us.
Re-enter the EARL OF DOUGLAS
EARL OF DOUGLAS
Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have thrown
A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,
that was engaged, did bear it;
Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.
EARL OF WORCESTER
The Prince of Wales stepp'd forth before the king,
And, nephew, challenged you to single fight.
O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
And that no man might draw short breath today
But I and Harry
Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
How show'd his tasking? seem'd it in contempt?
No, by my soul; I never in my life
Did hear a challenge urged more modestly,
Unless a brother should a
To gentle exercise and proof of arms.
He gave you all the duties of a man;
Trimm'd up your
praises with a princely tongue,
Spoke to your deservings like a chronicle,
Making you ever better than
By still dispraising praise valued in you;
And, which became him like a prince indeed,
a blushing cital of himself;
And chid his truant youth with such a grace
As if he master'd there a double
Of teaching and of learning instantly.
There did he pause: but let me tell the world,
If he outlive the
envy of this day,
England did never owe so sweet a hope,
So much misconstrued in his wantonness.
Cousin, I think thou art enamoured
On his follies: never did I hear
Of any prince so wild a libertine.
he as he will, yet once ere night
I will embrace him with a soldier's arm,
That he shall shrink under my
Arm, arm with speed: and, fellows, soldiers, friends,
Better consider what you have to do
that have not well the gift of tongue,
Can lift your blood up with persuasion.
Enter a Messenger
My lord, here are letters for you.
I cannot read them now.
O gentlemen, the time of life is short!
To spend that shortness basely were too
If life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
An if we live, we live to tread
If die, brave death, when princes die with us!
Now, for our consciences, the arms are fair,
the intent of bearing them is just.
Enter another Messenger
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