Page 766 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2
P. 766
ACT V IT
Scene I IT
Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Sir Walter Blunt,
Falstaff.
KING
How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above you bulky hill! The day looks pale
At his distemp’rature.
PRINCE
The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes
And by his hollow whistling in the leaves [5]
Foretells a tempest and a blust’ring day.
KING
Then with the losers let it sympathize,
For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
The trumpet sounds. Enter Worcester [and Vernon].
How now, my Lord of Worcester? ’Tis not well
That you and I should meet upon such terms [10]
As now we meet. You have deceived our trust
And made us doff our easy robes of peace
To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.
This is not well, my lord; this is not well.
What say you to it? Will you again unknit [15]
This churlish knot of all-abhorrèd war,
And move in that obedient orb again
Where you did give a fair and natural light,
And be no more an exhaled meteor,
