Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.

Ill-spirited Worcester, did not we send grace,

Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?

And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary?

Misuse the tenour of thy kinsman’s trust?

Three knights upon our party slain today,

A noble earl, and many a creature else,

Had been alive this hour,

If, like a Christian, thou hadst truly borne

Betwixt our armies true intelligence.

What I have done my safety urged me to;

And I embrace this fortune patiently,

Since not to be avoided it falls on me.

Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too.

Other offenders we will pause upon.

How goes the field?

The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw

The fortune of the day quite turn’d from him,

The noble Percy slain, and all his men

Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest,

And, falling from a hill, he was so bruised

That the pursuers took him. At my tent

The Douglas is, and I beseech your Grace

I may dispose of him.

With all my heart.

Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you

This honourable bounty shall belong.

Go to the Douglas and deliver him

Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free.

His valours shown upon our crests today

Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds,

Even in the bosom of our adversaries.

I thank your Grace for this high courtesy,

Which I shall give away immediately.

Then this remains, that we divide our power.

You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland,

Towards York shall bend you with your dearest speed

To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop,

Who, as we hear, are busily in arms.

Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales,

To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.

Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway,

Meeting the check of such another day,

And since this business so fair is done,

Let us not leave till all our own be won.