Hotspur.
Vnkle, what newe-?
Worcester.
There is no seeming mercy in the King.
Hotspur.
Did you begge any? God forbid.
Worcester.
I told him gently of our greeuances,
Of his Oath-breaking: which he mended thus,
By now forswearing that he is forsworne,
He cals vs Rebels, Traitors, and will scourge
With haughty armes, this hatefull name in vs.
Messenger.
My Lord, heere are Letters for you.
Hotspur.
I cannot reade them now.
Hotspur.
OGentlemen, the time of life is short;
Hotspur.
To spend that shortnesse basely, were too long.
If life did ride vpon a Dials point,
Hotspur.
Still ending at the arriuall of an houre,
And if we liue, we liue to treade on Kings:
If dye; braue death, when Princes dye with vs.
Hotspur.
Now Esperance Percy, and set on!