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SCENE I.—The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and DOUGLAS.
Hot. Well said, my noble Scot! If speaking truth, In this fine age, were not thought flattery, Such attribution should the Douglas have, As not a soldier of this season's stamp Should go so general current through the world. By heaven, I cannot flatter, I defy The tongues of soothers; but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man, than yourself; Nay, task me to the word; approve me, lord! Doug. Thou art the king of honour: No man so potent breathes upon the ground, But I will beard him.
Hot Do so, and 'tis well:
Enter a Messenger, with letters. 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 himself? 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? 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 enterprize : '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 set the exact wealth of all our states
Dough. Faith, and so we shoulde
We may boldly spend upon the hope of what Is to come in:
A comfort of retirement lives in this.
Hot. You strain too far.
I, rather, of his absence make this use:
All plum'd, like estridges, that wing the wind;
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!
Ver. There is more news:
I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along,
Hot. Forty let it be!
My father and Glendower being both away,
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 to-night.
Bard. Will you give me money, captain?
Bard. This bottle makes an angel.
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 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, sirrali, 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 long.
The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast,
SCENE III.—The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
Doug. You give him then advantage.
Hot. Why say you so? looks he not for supply?
Hot. His is certain, ours is doubtful.
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. Bard. I will, captain: farewell! [Exit. Fal. If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a souced gurnet. I have misused the king's press damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty soldiers,three hundred and odd pounds. I press me none, but good householders, yeomens' 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 drum; such as fear the report of a caliver 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 pins' Doug. You do not counsel well; heads, and they have bought out their services; and You speak it out of fear, and cold heart. now my whole charge consists, of ancients, corporals, Ver. Do me no slander, Douglas! by my life, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged, (And I dare well maintain it with my life,) as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton's If well-respected honour bid me on, dogs licked his sores: and such as, indeed, were never i hold as little counsel with weak fear, soldiers; but discarded unjust servingmen, younger As you, my lord, or any Scot, that lives. sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle, trade-fallen; the cankers of a calm word, and a long Which of us fears! peace, ten times more dishonourable ragged, than Doug. Yea, or to-night. an old-faced ancient! and such have I, to fill up the Ver. Content. rooms of them, that have bought out their services, that you would think, that I had a hundred and fifty tattered prodigals, lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me, I had unloaded all the gibbets, and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scare-crows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat: nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for indeed, I had the most of them out of prison. There is but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two napkins,tacked together, and thrown over the shoulders, like a herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daintry. But that's all one; they'll find 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
Hot. To-night, say I.
Ver. Come, come, it may not be.
I wonder much, being men of such great leading,
[The trumpet sounds a parley.
Some of us love you well: and even those some
But stand against us, like an enemy.
Blunt. And God defend, but still I should stand so,
But to my charge!- The king hath sent to know
Have any way your good deserts forgot,
He bids you name your griefs, and, with all speed,
Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the king
In short time after, he depos'd the king;
And, in the neck of that, task'd the whole state;
Disgrac'd me in my happy victories;
Sought to intrap 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
Into his title, the which we find
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 beimpawn'd
Enter the Archbishop of YORK, and a Gentleman.
I guess their tenor.
Arch. Like enough, you do.
To-morrow, good sir Michael, is a day,
The king, with mighty and quick-raised power,
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,
Arch. No, Mortimer's not there.
Gent. But there is Mordake, Vernon, lord Harry
And there's my lord of Worcester, and a head
Arch. And so there is: but yet the king hath drawn
Gent. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well oppos'd.
SCENE I. The King's camp near Shrewsbury. Enter King HENRY, Prince HENRY, Prince Joнs of LANCASTER, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and Sir JOHN FAL
K. Hen. How bloodily the sun begins to peer Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale At his distemperature.
P. Hen. The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
That you and I should meet upon such terms,
Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
For mine own part, I could be well content
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, aud he found it.
Wor. It pleas'd your majesty to turn your looks
In Richard's time, and posted day and night
K. Hen. These things, indeed, you have articulated,
With some fine colour, that may please the eye
And never yet did insurrection want
Of pell-mell havock and confusion.
If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,
I am content, that he shall take the odds
And will, to save the blood on either side,
K. Ilen. And, prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
Albeit, considerations infinite
Do make against it. No, good Worcester, no,
[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 that honour? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o'Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it therefore I'll none of it; honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends my catechism,
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,
A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen:
Ver. Deliver what you will, I'll say, 'tis so.
Arm,arm, with speed!-And, fellows,soldiers, friends,
Mess. My lord, here are letters for you.
O gentlemen, the time of life is short;
Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
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 thisLet 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 Sol-In the adventure of this perilous day.
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,
Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue,
And chid his truant youth with such a grace,
Now, Esperance!-Percy!- and set on!
[The trumpets sound. They embrace, and
SCENE III. - Plain near Shrewsbury. Excursions, and parties fighting. Alarum to the battle. 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 Donglas; 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.
Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot; And thou shalt find a king, that will revenge Lord Stafford's death. [They fight, and Blunt is slain.
Hot.O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus, I never had triumph'd upon a Scot.
Doug. All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king. Hot. Where?
Hot. This, Douglas? no, I know this face full well: A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt, Semblably furnish'd like the king himself. Doug. A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes! A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear. Why didst thou tell me, that thou wert a king? Hot. The king hath many marching in his coats. Doug. Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats; I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece, Until I meet the king.
Hot. Up, and away!
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. [Exeunt. Other alarums. Enter FALSTAFF.
Fal. Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here's no scoring, but npou the pate. Soft! who art thou? Sir Walter Blunt; there's honour for you: here's no vanity! I am as hot, as molten lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I need no more weight, than mine own