Here doth hee wish his Person, with such Powers
As might hold sortance with his Qualitie,
The which hee could not leuie: whereupon
Hee is retyr'd, to ripe his growing Fortunes,
To Scotland; and concludes in heartie prayers,
That your Attempts may ouer-liue the hazard,
And fearefull meeting of their Opposite
Mow. Thus do the hopes we haue in him, touch ground,
And dash themselues to pieces.
Enter a Messenger.
Hast. Now? what newes?
Mess. West of this Forrest, scarcely off a mile,
In goodly forme, comes on the Enemie:
And by the ground they hide, I iudge their number
Vpon, or neere, the rate of thirtie thousand
Mow. The iust proportion that we gaue them out.
Let vs sway-on, and face them in the field.
Enter Westmerland.
Bish. What well-appointed Leader fronts vs here?
Mow. I thinke it is my Lord of Westmerland
West. Health, and faire greeting from our Generall,
The Prince, Lord Iohn, and Duke of Lancaster
Bish. Say on (my Lord of Westmerland) in peace:
What doth concerne your comming?
West.
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