WORCESTER.
Cousin, farewell. No further go in this
Than I by letters shall direct your course.
When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,
I’ll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer,
Where you and Douglas, and our powers at once,
As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,
To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Farewell, good brother; we shall thrive, I trust.
HOTSPUR.
Uncle, adieu. O, let the hours be short,
Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport!
[Exeunt.]
ACT II
SCENE I. Rochester. An Inn-Yard.
Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand.
FIRST CARRIER.
Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I’ll be hang’d. Charles’ wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not pack’d.—What, ostler!
OSTLER.
[within.] Anon, anon.
FIRST CARRIER.
I prithee, Tom, beat Cut’s saddle, put a few flocks in the point; poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess.