ACT FIFTH
Scene One
[Shrewsbury. The King's Camp]
Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Sir Walter Blunt, and Falstaff.
King. How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale
At his distemperature.
Prince.The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes, 4
And by his hollow whistling in the leaves
Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
King. Then with the losers let it sympathize,
For nothing can seem foul to those that win. 8
Enter Worcester [and Vernon].
How now, my Lord of Worcester! 'tis not well
That you and I should meet upon such terms
As now we meet. You have deceiv'd our trust,
And made us doff our easy robes of peace, 12
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
This churlish knot of all-abhorred war, 16
And move in that obedient orb again
Where you did give a fair and natural light,
And be no more an exhal'd meteor,
A prodigy of fear and a portent 20
2 busky: bushy
3 distemperature: inclemency, ill-humour
13 old limbs; cf. n.
17 obedient orb: sphere of obedience
19 exhal'd: drawn forth; especially vapours drawn forth by the sun and producing meteors
