may please the eye Of fickle changelings and poor discontents, Which gape and rub the elbow at the news Of hurlyburly innovation: And never yet did insurrection want Such water-colours to impaint his cause; Nor moody beggars, starving for a time Of pellmell havoc and confusion. In both your armies there is many a soul Shall pay full dearly for this encounter, If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew, The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world In praise of Henry Percy: by my hopes, This present enterprise set off his head, I do not think a braver gentleman, More active-valiant or more valiant-young, More daring or more bold, is now alive To grace this latter age with noble deeds. For my part, I may speak it to my shame, I have a truant been to chivalry; And so I hear he doth account me too; Yet this before my father's majesty-- I am content that he shall take the odds Of his great name and estimation, And will, to save the blood on either side, Try fortune with him in a single fight. And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee, Albeit considerations infinite Do make against it. No, good Worcester, no, We love our people well; even those we love That are misled upon your cousin's part; And, will they take the offer of our grace, Both he and they and you, every man Shall be my friend again and I'll be his: So tell your cousin, and bring me word What he will do: but if he will not yield, Rebuke and dread correction wait on us And they shall do their office. So, be gone; We will not now be troubled with reply: We offer fair; take it advisedly. It will not be accepted, on my life: The Douglas and the Hotspur both together Are confident against the world in arms. Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge; For, on their answer, will we set on them: And God befriend us, as our cause is just! Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship. Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell. I would 'twere bed-time, Hal, and all well. Why, thou owest God a death. 'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea,