And gave his countenance, against his name, To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push Of every beardless vain comparative; Grew a companion to the common streets, Enfeoff'd himself to popularity; That, being dally swallowed by men's eyes, They surfeited with honey and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June, Heard, not regarded- seen, but with such eyes As, sick and blunted with community, Afford no extraordinary gaze, Such as is bent on unlike majesty When it shines seldom in admiring eyes; But rather drows'd and hung their eyelids down, Slept in his face, and rend'red such aspect As cloudy men use to their adversaries, Being with his presence glutted, gorg'd, and full. And in that very line, Harry, standest thou; For thou hast lost thy princely privilege With vile participation. Not an eye But is aweary of thy common sight, Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee more; Which now doth that I would not have it do- Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. Prince. I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord, Be more myself. King. For all the world, As thou art to this hour, was Richard then When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh; And even as I was then is Percy now. Now, by my sceptre, and my soul to boot, He hath more worthy interest to the state Than thou, the shadow of succession; For of no right, nor colour like to right, He doth fill fields with harness in the realm, Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, And, Being no more in debt to years than thou, Leads ancient lords and reverend Bishops on To bloody battles and to bruising arms. What never-dying honour hath he got Against renowmed Douglas! whose high deeds, Whose hot incursions and great name in arms Holds from all soldiers chief majority And military title capital Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ. Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes, This infant warrior, in his enterprises Discomfited great Douglas; ta'en him once, Enlarged him, and made a friend of him, To fill the mouth of deep defiance up And shake the peace and safety of our throne. And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, The Archbishop's Grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer Capitulate against us and are up. But wherefore do I tell these news to thee Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, Which art my nearest and dearest enemy' Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear, Base inclination, and the start of spleen, To fight against me under Percy's pay, To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns, To show how much thou art degenerate. Prince. Do not think so. You shall not find it so.