[Exit.]
GLENDOWER.
Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow
As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.
By this our book is drawn. We’ll but seal,
And then to horse immediately.
MORTIMER.
With all my heart.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. London. A Room in the Palace.
Enter King Henry, Prince Henry and Lords.
KING.
Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I
Must have some private conference: but be near at hand,
For we shall presently have need of you.
[Exeunt Lords.]
I know not whether God will have it so
For some displeasing service I have done,
That, in His secret doom, out of my blood
He’ll breed revengement and a scourge for me;
But thou dost in thy passages of life
Make me believe that thou art only mark’d
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,
Could such inordinate and low desires,
Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,
Such barren pleasures, rude society,
As thou art match’d withal, and grafted to,
Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
And hold their level with thy princely heart?
PRINCE.
So please your Majesty, I would I could
Quit all offences with as clear excuse
As well as I am doubtless I can purge
Myself of many I am charged withal.
Yet such extenuation let me beg
As, in reproof of many tales devised,
By smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers,
Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,
I may for some things true, wherein my youth
Hath faulty wander’d and irregular,
Find pardon on my true submission.