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Warkworth. Before the castle
[Enter RUMOR, painted full of tongues]
RUMOR
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Open | your ears:| for which | of you | will stop
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The vent | of hear|ing, when / loud rum|or
speaks?
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I, from | the or|ient | to the droop|ing west
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(Making the | wind my | post-horse) still |
unfold
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The acts | commenc|ed on | this ball | of earth.
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Upon | my tongue,| contin|ual sland|ers ride,
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The which,| in ev|ery lang|uage, I | pronounce,
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Stuffing | the ears | of them | with false |
reports:
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I speak | of peace,| while cov|ert en|mity
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(Under | the smile | of safe|ty) wounds | the
world:
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And who | but Rum|or, who | but on|ly I
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Make^fear|ful mus|ters, and | prepared | defense,
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Whiles the | big year, swollen | with some oth|er
griefs,
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Is thought | with child,| by the / stern tyr|ant,
war,
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And no | such mat|ter? Rum|or, is | a pipe
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Blown by sur|mises,| jealou|sies, con|jectures;
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And of | so eas|y, and / so plain | a stop,
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That the / blunt monst|er, with / uncount|ed
heads,
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The still-|discord|ant, wav|ering mult|itude,
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Can play | upon | it. But | what need | I thus
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My well-|known bo/dy to | anat|omize
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Among | my house|hold? Why is Rum|or here?
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I run | before | King^Har|ry's vict|ory,
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Who in | a bloo|dy field | by Shrews|bury
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Hath beat|en down | young Hotspur,| and his
troops,
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Quenching | the flame | of bold | rebel|lion,
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Even with | the reb|el's blood.| But what |
mean^I
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To speak | so true | at first?| My of|fice is
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To noise | abroad,| that Har|ry Mon|mouth fell
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Under | the wrath | of nob|le Hot|spur's^sword,
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And that | the king,| before | the Doug|las' rage
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Stooped his | anoint|ed head,| as low | as death.
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This have | I rum|ored through | the peas|ant
towns,
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Between | that roy|al field | of Shrews|bury,
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And this / worm-eat|en hold | of rag|ged stone,
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Where Hot|spur's^fath|er, old | Northum|berland,
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Lies crafty sick:| the posts | come tir|ing on,
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And not | a man | of them / brings oth|er news
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Than they | have learned | of me.| from Rum|or's
tongues,
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They bring smooth com|forts false,| worse than |
true^wrongs. ??
[Exit]