Page images
PDF
EPUB

Enter a Messenger, with letters.

Hot.

You strain too far.

It lends a lustre, and more great opinion,
I, rather, of his absence make this use ;-

What letters hast thou there?-I can but thank you.
Mess. These letters come from your father,-
Hot. Letters from him! why comes he not him-A larger dare to our great enterprise,

self?

Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievous

sick.

Hot. Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick,
In such a justling time? Who leads his power ?1
Under whose government come they along?

Mess. His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.
Wor. I pr'ythee, tell me, doth he keep his bed?
Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;
And at the time of my departure thence,
He was much fear'd by his physicians.

Wor. I would, the state of time had first been
whole,

Ere he by sickness had been visited;

His health was never better worth than now.

Hot. Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth
infect

The very life-blood of our enterprise;
'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.-
He writes me here,-that inward sickness-
And that his friends by deputation could not
So soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet,
To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
On any soul remov'd, but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,-
That with our small conjunction, we should on,
To see how fortune is dispos'd to us:
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now;
Because the king is certainly possess'd3
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off:-
And yet, in faith, 'tis not; his present want
Seems more than we shall find it :-Were it good,
To set the exact wealth of all our states
All at one cast? to set so rich a main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good: for therein should we read
The very bottom and the soul of hope;
The very list, the very utmost bound
Of all our fortunes.

Doug.

4

'Faith, and so we should ;
Wheres now remains a sweet reversion:
We may boldly spend upon the hope of what
Is to come in:

A comfort of retirement lives in this.

Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, If that the devil and mischance look big Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.

Wor. But yet, I would your father had
here.

The quality and hair of our attempt
Brooks no division: It will be thought
By some, that know not why he is away,
That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike

Of our proceedings, kept the earl from hence;
And think, how such an apprehension
May turn the tide of fearful faction,
And breed a kind of question in our cause:
For, well you know, we of the offering side
Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement;

Than if the earl were here: for men must think,
To push against the kingdom; with his help,
If we, without his help, can make a head
We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.-
Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.
Doug. As heart can think: there is not such a
word

Spoke of in Scotland, as this term of fear.

Enter Sir Richard Vernon.

Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul.
Ver. Pray God, my news be worth a welcome,
lord.

The earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
Is marching hitherwards; with him, prince John.
Hot. No harm: What more?

Ver.

And further, I have learn'd,—
The king himself in person is set forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,
With strong and mighty preparation.

Hot. He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
The nimble-footed mad-cap prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daff'd' the world aside,
And bid it pass?

Ver.
All plum'd like estridges that wing the wind;
Bated like eagles having lately bath'd;"
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May,
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,-
Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
Hot. No more, no more; worse than the sun
in March,

All furnish'd, all in arms,

This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come;
They come like sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoky war,
All hot, and bleeding, will we offer them:
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit,
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire,
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,

And yet not ours:-Come, let me take my horse,
Who is to bear me, like a thunderbolt,

been Against the bosom of the prince of Wales:
Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,
Meet, and ne'er part, till one drop down a corse.-
O, that Glendower were come!

And stop all sight-holes, every loop, from whence
The eye of reason may pry in upon us :
This absence of your father's draws a curtain,
That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt of.

(1) Forces. (2) Languishing. (3) Informed.
(4) Line.
(5) Whereas.
(6) The complexion, the character.

Ver.

There is more news:.

I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along,
He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
Doug. That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
Wor. Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
Hot. What may the king's whole battle reach
unto?

[blocks in formation]

Doug. Talk not of dying; I am out of fear
Of death, or death's hand, for this one half year.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II-A public road near Coventry. Enter
Falstaff and Bardolph.

Fal. Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill
me a bottle of sack: our soldiers shall march
through; we'll to Sutton-Colfield t night.
Bard. Will you give me money, captain?
Fal. Lay out, lay out.

Bard. This bottle makes an angel.

Fal. An if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, take them all, I'll answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Peto meet me at the town's end.

theft hath already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack; whose fellows are these that come after ? Fal. Mine, Hal, mine.

P. Hen. I did never see such pitiful rascals. Fal. Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit, as well as better: tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.

West. Ay, but, sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare; too beggarly.

Fal. Faith, for their poverty,-I know not where they had that: and for their bareness,-I am sure, they never learned that of me.

P. Hen. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs, bare. But, sirrah, make haste; Percy is already in the field. Fal. What, is the king encamped? West. He is, sir John; I fear, we shall stay too

Fal. Well,

Bard. I will, captain: farewell. [Exit. Fal. If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am long. a souced gurnet. I have misused the king's press damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds.

feast,

SCENE III.-The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas, and Ver

non.

Hot. We'll fight with him to-night,
Wor.

It may not be.
Doug. You give him then advantage.

Ver.

Not a whit.
Hot. Why say you so? looks he not for supply?
Ver. So do we.
Hot.
His is certain, ours is doubtful.
Wor. Good cousin, be advis'd; stir not to-night.
Ver. Do not, my lord.
Doug.
You do not counsel well;

I press me none but good householders, yeomen's Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest. [Exeunt. sons: inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked twice on the banns; such a commodity of warm slaves, as had as lief hear the devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a caliver,2 worse than a struck fowl, or a hurt wild-duck. I pressed me none but such toasts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pin's heads, and they have bought out their services; and now my whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores: and such as, indeed, were never soldiers; but discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers You speak it out of fear, and cold heart. of a calm world, and a long peace; ten times more Ver. Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life, dishonourable ragged than an old faced ancient :3 (And I dare well maintain it with my life,) and such have I, to fill up the rooms of them that If well-respected honour bid me on, have bought out their services, that you would think, I hold as little counsel with weak fear, that I had a hundred and fifty tattered prodigals, As you my lord, or any Scot that lives :lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle, and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and Which of us fears. told me, I had unloaded all the gibbets, and pressed Doug. the dead bodies. No eve hath seen such scareVer. crows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, Hot. To-night, say I. that's flat:-Nay, and the villains march wide be- Ver. Come, come, it may not be. twixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for, indeed, I wonder much, being men of such great leading, I had the most of them out of prison. There's but That you foresee not what impediments . a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half- Drag back our expedition: Certain horse shirt is two napkins, tacked together, and thrown Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up: over the shoulders, like a herald's coat without Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day; sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from And now their pride and mettle is asleep, my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose inn- Their courage with hard labour tame and dull, keeper of Daintry.' But that's all one; they'll find That not a horse is half the half himself. linen enough on every hedge.

Enter Prince Henry and Westmoreland. P. Hen. How now, blown Jack? how now, quilt? Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag? what a devil dost thou in Warwickshire ?-My good lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy; I thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.

West. 'Faith, sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already: The king, I can tell you, looks for us all; we must away all night.

Fal. Tut, never fear me; I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.

P. Hen. I think, to steal cream, indeed; for thy

[blocks in formation]

Yea, or to-night.

Content.

Hot. So are the horses of the enemy
In general, journey-bated, and brought low;
The better part of ours is full of rest.

Wor. The number of the king exceedeth ours:
For God's sake, cousin, stay till all come in.

[The trumpet sounds a parley.

Enter Sir Walter Blunt.

[blocks in formation]

But stand against us like an enemy.
Blunt. And God defend, but still I should|
stand so,

So long as, out of limit, and true rule,
You stand against anointed majesty!
But, to my charge.-The king hath sent to know
The nature of your griefs; and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hostility, teaching this duteous land
Audacious cruelty: If that the king
Have any way your good deserts forgot,-
Which he confesseth to be manifold,-

He bids you name your griefs; and, with all speed
You shall have your desires, with interest;
And pardon absolute for yourself, and these,
Herein misled by your suggestion.

Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the
king

Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
My father, and my uncle, and myself,
Did give him that same royalty he wears:
And,-when he was not six and twenty strong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,―
My father gave him welcome to the shore:
And,-when he heard him swear, and vow to God,
He came but to be duke of Lancaster,
To sue his livery,2 and beg his peace;
With tears of innocency, and terms of zeal,-
My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd,
Swore him assistance, and perform'd it too.
Now, when the lords, and barons of the realm,
Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him,
The more and less3 came in with cap and knee;
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages;
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,
Gave him their heirs; as pages follow'd him,
Even at the heels, in golden multitudes.
He presently, as greatness knows itself,-
Steps me a little higher than his vow
Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurg;
And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees,
That lie too heavy on the commonwealth:
Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
Over his country's wrongs; and, by this face,
This seeming brow of justice, did he win
The hearts of all that he did angle for.
Proceeded further; cut me off the heads
Of all the favourites, that the absent king
In deputation left behind him here,
When he was personal in the Irish war.
Blunt. Tut, I came not to hear this.
Hot.
Then, to the point.
In short time after, he depos'd the king;
Soon after that, depriv'd him of his life;
And, in the neck of that, task'd the whole state:
To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman, March,
(Who is, if every owner were well plac'd,
Indeed his king,) to be incag'd in Wales,
There without ransom to lie forfeited:
Disgrac'd me in my happy victories;
Sought to entrap me by intelligence;
Rated my uncle from the council-board;
In rage dismiss'd my father from the court;
Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong:
And, in conclusion, drove us to seek out
This head of safety; and, withal, to pry
Into his title, the which we find

(1) Grievances. (2) The delivery of his lands.
The greater and the less. (4) Letter.

Too indirect for long continuance.

Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the king?
Hot. Not so, sir Walter; we'll withdraw awhile.
Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd
Some surety for a safe return again,
And in the morning early shall mine uncle
Bring him our purposes: and so farewell.
Blunt. I would you would accept of grace and
love.

Hot. And, may be, so we shall.
Blunt.

'Pray heaven, you do!

SCENE IV-York. A room in the archbishop's house. Enter the Archbishop of York, and a Gentleman.

Arch. Hie, good sir Michael; bear this sealed
brief,

With winged haste, to the lord mareshal;
This to my cousin Scroop; and all the rest
To whom they are directed: if you knew
How much they do import, you would make haste.
Gent. My good lord,

I guess their tenor.

Arch.
Like enough you do.
To-morrow, good sir Michael, is a day,
Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
Must bide the touch: For, sir, at Shrewsbury,
As I am truly given to understand,

The king, with mighty and quick-raised power,
Meets with lord Harry: and I fear, sir Michael,-
What with the sickness of Northumberland,
(Whose power was in the first proportion,)
And what with Owen Glendower's absence, thence,
(Who with them was a rated sinew too,

And comes not in, o'er-rul'd by prophecies,)

I fear, the power of Percy is too weak
To wage an instant trial with the king.

Gent. Why, good my lord, you need not fear;
there's Douglas,
And Mortimer.

Arch.
No, Mortimer's not there.
Gent. But there is Mordake, Vernon, lord Harry

Percy,

And there's my lord of Worcester; and a head
Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.

Arch. And so there is: but yet the king hath
drawn

The special head of all the land together;-
The prince of Wales, lord John of Lancaster,
The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt;
And many more cor-rivals, and dear men
Of estimation and command in arms.

Gent. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well
oppos'd.

Arch. I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear,
And, to prevent the worst, sir Michael, speed:
For, if lord Percy thrive not, ere the king
Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,-
For he hath heard of our confederacy,-
And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him;
Therefore, make haste: I must go write again
To other friends; and so farewell, sir Michael.
[Exe. severally.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The king's camp near Shrewsbury.
Enter King Henry, Prince Henry, Prince John
of Lancaster, Sir Walter Blunt, and Sir John
Falstaff.

K. Hen. How bloodily the sun begins to peer

(5) A strength on which we reckoned.

Above yon busky' hill! the day looks pale
At his distemperature.

P. Hen.

The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes;
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves,
Foretells a tempest, and a blustering day.

K. Hen. Then with the losers let it sympathize;
For nothing can seem foul to those that win.-

Trumpet. 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 doff2 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't? will you again unknit

This churlish knot of all-abhorred war?
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

Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
Wor. Hear me, my liege:

For mine own part, I could be well content
To entertain the lag-end of my life
With quiet hours; for, I do protest,
I have not sought the day of this dislike.

K. Hen. You have not sought for it! how comes
it then?

Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
P. Hen. Peace, chewet, peace.

3

Wor. It pleas'd your majesty, to turn your looks
Of favour, from myself, and all our house;
And yet, I must remember you, my lord,
We were the first and dearest of your friends.
For you, my staff of office did I break

In Richard's time; and posted day and night
To meet you on the way, and kiss your hand,
When yet you were in place and in account
Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.
It was myself, my brother, and his son,
That brought you home, and boldly did outdare
The dangers of the time: You swore to us,-
And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,-
That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state;
Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n right,
The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster:
To this we swore our aid. But, in short space,
It rain'd down fortune showering on your head;
And such a flood of greatness fell on you,-
What with our help; what with the absent king;
What with the injuries of a wanton time;
The seeming sufferances that you had borne ;
And the contrarious winds, that held the king
So long in his unlucky Irish wars,
That all in England did repute him dead,-
And, from this swarm of fair advantages,
You took occasion to be quickly woo'd
To gripe the general sway into your hand:
Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster;
And, being fed by us, you us'd us so
As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
Useth the sparrow: did oppress our nest;
Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk,
That even our love durst not come near your sight,
For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing
We were enforc'd, for safety sake, to fly
Out of your sight, and raise this present head:
Whereby we stand opposed by such means
As you yourself have forg'd against yourself;
(1) Woody.
(2) Put off.
(3) A chattering bird, a ple

By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth
Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.

K. Hen. These things, indeed, you have articu
lated,

Proclaim'd at market-crosses, read in churches;
To face the garment of rebellion

With some fine colour, that may please the eye
Of fickle changelings, and poor discontents,
Which gape, and rub the elbow, at the news
Of hurly-burly innovation:

And never yet did insurrection want
Such water-colours, to impaint his cause;
Nor moody beggars, starving for a time
Of pell-mell havoc and confusion.

P. Hen. In both our armies, there is many a sou!
Shall pay full dearly for this encounter,

If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,
The prince of Wales doth join with all the world
In praise of Henry Percy; By my hopes,-
This present enterprise set off his head,-
I do not think, a braver gentleman,
More active-valiant, or more valiant-young,
More daring, or more bold, is now alive,
To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
I have a truant been to chivalry;
And so, I hear, he doth account me too :
Yet this before my father's majesty,-
I am content, that he shall take the odds
Of his great name and estimation;
And will, to save the blood on either side,
Try fortune with him in a single fight.

K. Hen. And, prince of Wales, so dare we ven-
ture thee,

Albeit, considerations infinite

Do make against it :-No, good Worcester, no,
We love our people well; even those we love,
That are misled upon your cousin's part:
And, will they take the offer of our grace,
Both he, and they, and you, yea, every man,
Shall be my friend again, and I'll be his:
So tell your cousin, and bring me word
What he will do:-But if he will not yield,
Rebuke and dread correction wait on us,
And they shall do their office. So, be gone;
We will not now be troubled with reply:
We offer fair, take it advisedly.

[Exeunt Worcester and Vernon.
P. Hen. It will not be accepted, on my life:
The Douglas and the Hotspur both together
Are confident against the world in arms.
K. Hen. Hence, therefore, every leader to his
charge;

For, on their answer, will we set on them:
And God befriend us, as our cause is just!

[Exeunt King, Blunt, and Prince John. Fal. Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, and bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.

P. Hen. Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell.

Fal. I would it were bed-time, Hal, and all well. P. Hen. Why, thou owest God a death. [Exit. Fal. 'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is

(4, Exhibited in articles.

that honour? Air. A trim reckoning!-Who hath Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly, it? He that died o'Wednesday. Doth he feel it? Unless a brother should a brother dare No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it insensible then? To gentle exercise and proof of arms. Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the He gave you all the duties of a man; living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it :- Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue; therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere scutch- Spoke your deservings like a chronicle; eon,' and so ends my catechism.

[Exit. Making you ever better than his praise,

SCENE II.—The rebel camp. Enter Worcester
and Vernon.

Wor. O, no, my nephew must not know, sir
Richard,

The liberal kind offer of the king.
Ver. 'Twere best he did.
Wor.

Then are we all undone.
It is not possible, it cannot be,
The king should keep his word in loving us;
He will suspect us still, and find a time
To punish this offence in other faults:
Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes:
For treason is but trusted like the fox;
Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd, and lock'd up,
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
Look how we can, or sad, or merrily,
Interpretation will misquote our looks;
And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,
The better cherish'd, still the nearer death.
My nephew's trespass may be well forgot,
It hath the excuse of youth, and heat of blood;
And an adopted name of privilege,-

A hair-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen:
All his offences live upon my head,
And on his father's;-we did train him on;
And, his corruption being ta'en from us,
We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all.
Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know,
In any case, the offer of the king.

Ver. Deliver what you will, I'll say, 'tis so.
Here comes your cousin.

Enter Hotspur and Douglas; and officers and
soldiers, behind.

Hot. My uncle is return'd:-Deliver up
My lord of Westmoreland.-Uncle, what news?
Wor. The king will bid you battle presently.
Doug. Defy him by the lord of Westmoreland.
Hot. Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.
Doug. Marry, and shall, and very willingly.

[Exit.

Wor. There is no seeming mercy in the king.
Hot. Did you beg any? God forbid !
Wor. I told him gently of our grievances,
Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,-
By now forswearing that he is forsworn:
He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge
With haughty arms this hateful name in us.
Re-enter Douglas.

Doug. Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have
thrown

A brave defiance in king Henry's teeth,
And Westmoreland, that was engag'd, did bear it;
Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.
Wor. The prince of Wales stepp'd forth before
the king,

And, nephew, challeng'd you to single fight.

Hot. O, 'would the quarrel lay upon our heads;
And that no man might draw short breath to-day,
But I, and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
How show'd his tasking? seemed it in contempt?
Ver. No, by soul; I never in my life

(1) Painted heraldry in funerals.
Recital. (3) Own.

And, which became him like a prince indeed,
By still dispraising praise, valued with you:
He made a blushing cital of himself;
And chid his truant youth with such a grace,
As if he master'd there a double spirit,
Of teaching, and of learning, instantly.
There did he pause: But let me tell the world,-
If he outlive the envy of this day,
England did never owe so sweet a hope,
So much misconstrued in his wantonness.

Hot. Cousin, I think, thou art enamour'd
Upon his follies; never did I hear
Of any prince, so wild, at liberty:-
But, be he as he will, yet once ere night
I will embrace him with a soldier's arm,
That he shall shrink under my courtesy.-
Arm, arm, with speed:-And, fellows, soldiers,
friends,

Better consider what you have to do,
Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,
Can lift your blood up with persuasion.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, here are letters for you.
Hot. I cannot read them now.-

O gentlemen, the time of life is short;
To spend that shortness basely, were too long,
If life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
An if we live, we live to tread on kings;
If die, brave death, when princes die with us!
Now for our conscience, the arms are fair,
When the intent of bearing them is just.

Enter another Messenger.

Mess. My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.
Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,
For I profess not talking; Only this-
Let each man do his best: and here draw I
A sword, whose temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal
In the adventure of this perilous day.
Now,-Esperance !-Percy!-and set on.
Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
And by that music let us all embrace:
For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall
A second time do such a courtesy.

[The trumpets sound. They embrace,
and exeunt.]

SCENE III-Plain near Shrewsbury. Excur
sions, and parties fighting. Alarum to the bat-
tle. Then enter Douglas and Blunt, meeting.

Blunt. What is thy name, that in the battle thus
Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek
Upon my head?
Doug. Know then, my name is Douglas;
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus,
Because some tell me that thou art a king.
Blunt. They tell thee true.
Doug. The lord of Stafford dear to-day hath
bought

Thy likeness; for, instead of thee, king Harry,
This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee.
Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.

(4) The motto of the Percy family.

« PreviousContinue »