Your majesty's good thoughts away from me!
	I will redeem all this on Percy's head
	And in the closing of some glorious day
	Be bold to tell you that I am your son;
	When I will wear a garment all of blood
	And stain my favours in a bloody mask,
	Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it:
	And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
	That this same child of honour and renown,
	This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,
	And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.
	For every honour sitting on his helm,
	Would they were multitudes, and on my head
	My shames redoubled! for the time will come,
	That I shall make this northern youth exchange
	His glorious deeds for my indignities.
	Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
	To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
	And I will call him to so strict account,
	That he shall render every glory up,