YORK.
Make way, unruly woman!
[Exit.]
DUCHESS.
After, Aumerle! Mount thee upon his horse!
Spur post, and get before him to the King,
And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
I’ll not be long behind. Though I be old,
I doubt not but to ride as fast as York.
And never will I rise up from the ground
Till Bolingbroke have pardoned thee. Away, be gone!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. Windsor. A room in the Castle.
Enter Bolingbroke as King, Harry Percy and other Lords.
KING HENRY.
Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son?
’Tis full three months since I did see him last.
If any plague hang over us, ’tis he.
I would to God, my lords, he might be found.
Inquire at London, ’mongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent
With unrestrained loose companions,
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes
And beat our watch and rob our passengers,
While he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
Takes on the point of honour to support
So dissolute a crew.
PERCY.
My lord, some two days since I saw the Prince,
And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.
KING HENRY.
And what said the gallant?
PERCY.
His answer was he would unto the stews,
And from the common’st creature pluck a glove
And wear it as a favour, and with that
He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.