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So is it in the music of men's lives.
K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert And here have I the daintiness of ear,
away. To check time broke in a disorder'd string ; Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my But, for the concord of my state and time,
heart shall say.
[Erit. Had not an ear to hear my true time broke. Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to ? I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do. For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock: Keep. My lord, I dare not; sir Pierce of Exton, Mythoughts are minutes: and, with sighs, theyjar who Their watches on tomineeyes, the outward watch, Lately came from the king, commands the cona Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
trary. Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, Now, sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is,
and thee! Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart, Patience is stale, and I'm weary of it. Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and groans,
[Beats the Keeper. Show minutes, times, and hours :-but my time Keep. Help, help, help! Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy, While I stand fooling here, his Jack o’the clock.
Enter Exton, and Servants, armed. This music mads me, let it sound no more ; K. Rich. How now? what means death in For, though it have holpe madmen to their wits, this rude assault? In me, it seems it will make wise men mad. Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instruYet blessing on his heart, that gives it me!
ment. For 'tis a sign of love ; and love to Richard
[Snatching a weapon, and killing one. Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world. Go thou, and fill another room in hell.
[He kills another, then Exton strikes him Enter Groom.
down. Groom. Hail, royal prince !
That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire, K. Rich. Thanks, noble peer;
That staggers thus my person.--Exton, thy fierce The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
hand What art thou ? and how comest thou hither, Hath with the king's blood stain’d the king's Where no man ever comes, but that sad dog That brings me food, to make misfortune live? Mount, mount, my soul ! thy seat is up on high ;
Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward here to When thou wert king; who, travelling towards
[ Dies. York,
Exton. As full of valour, as of royal blood : With much ado, at length have gotten leave Both have I spilt; 0, would the deed were good! To look upon my sometimes master's face.
For now the devil, that told me, I did well, 0, how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld Says, that this deed is chronicled in hell. In London streets that coronation day,
This dead king to the living king I'll bear ;When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary ! Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid ;
[Ereunt. That horse, that I so carefully have dress'd ! K.Rich. Rode he on Barbary ? Tell me, gen SCENE VI.-Windsor. A room in the castle.
tle friend, How went he under him?
Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE and York, with
Lords and Attendants. Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground.
Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we K. Rich. So proud, that Bolingbroke was on hear, his back!
Is--that the rebels have consum'd with fire That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; Our town of Cicester in Glostershire; This hand hath made him proud with clapping But whether they be ta’en, or slain, we hear not. him.
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down, (Since pride must have a fall,) and break the neck Welcome, my lord : What is the news? Of that proud man, that did usurp his back ? North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,
happiness. Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,
The next news is,- I have to London sent Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse ; The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent: And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
The manner of their taking may appear Spur-galld, and tir’d, by jauncing Bolingbroke. At large discoursed in this paper
[Presenting a paper. Enter Keeper, with a dish.
Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy Keep. Fellow, give place ; here is no longer pains; stay.
[To the Groom. And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. VOL. I.
Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to Richard of Bourdeaux, by me hither brought
Boling. Exton, I thank thee not ; for thou The heads of Brocas, and Sir Bennet Seely ;
hast wrought Two of the dangerous consorted traitors, A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand, That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow. Upon my head, and all this famous land. Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did forgot ;
I this deed. Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.
Boling. They love not poison, that do poison Enter Percy, with the Bishop of CARLISLE.
Nor do I thee; though I did wish him dead, Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of West. I hate the murderer, love him murdered. minster,
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour, With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy, But neither my good word, nor princely favour : Hath yielded up his body to the grave; With Cain go wander through the shade of But here is Carlisle living, to abide
night, Thy kingiy doom, and sentence of his pride. And never show thy head by day nor lightBoling. Carlisle, this is your doom :
Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe, Choose out some secret place, some reverend room, That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow: More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life; Come, mourn with me for what I do lament, So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife: And put on sullen black incontinent; For though mine enemy thou hast ever been, I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land, High sparks of honour in thee have I seen. To wash this blood off from my guilty hand :Enter Exton, with Attendants bearing a coffin. In weeping after this untimely bier. (Ezcal
March sadly after ; grace my mournings here, Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present
SCENE I.-London. A room in the palace. Which,--like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of one substance bred, Enter King Henry, WESTMORELAND, Sir
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And furious close of civil butchery,
March all one way; and be no more oppos’d And breathe short-winded accents of new broils Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies : To be commenc'd in stronds afar remote. The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more the thirsty Erinnys of this soil No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, No more shall trenching war channel her fields, (Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross Nor bruise her flowrets
with the armed hoofs We are impressed and engaged to fight,) Of hostile paces : those opposed eyes,
Forthwith a power of English shall we levy;
Whose arms were moulded in their mothers’ | In envy, that my lord Northumberland womb,
Should be the father of so blest a son : To chase these pagans, in those holy fields, A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue; Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet, Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd Who is sweet fortune’s minion, and her pride: For our advantage on the bitter cross.
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, But this our purpose is a twelve-month old, See riot and dishonour stain the brow And bootless 'tis to tell you—we will go ; Of my young Harry. O, that it could be prov'd, Therefore we meet not now :- Then let me hear That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, In cradle-clothes our children, where they lay, What yesternight our council did decree, And call'd mine--Percy, his--Plantagenet ! In forwarding this dear expedience.
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, But let him from my thoughts :—What think And many limits of the charge set down
you, coz, But yesternight: when, all athwart, there came of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news; Which he in this adventure hath surpriz'd, Whose worst was,—that the noble Mortimer, To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight I shall have none but Mordake earl of Fife. Against the irregular and wild Glendower, West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is WarWas by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, cester, And a thousand of his people butchered : Malevolent to you in all aspects; Upon whose dead corps there was such misuse, Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up Such beastly, shameless transformation, The crest of youth against your dignity. By those Welshwomen done, as may not be, K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this; Without much shame, re-told or spoken of. And, for this cause, awhile we must neglect K. Hen. It seems then, that the tidings of this Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. broil
Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we Brake off our business for the Holy Land. Will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords: West. This, match'd with other, did, my But come yourself with speed to us again ; gracious lord;
For more is to be said, and to be done, For more uneven and unwelcome news
Than out of anger can be uttered. Came from the north, and thus it did import. West. I will,
[Eseunt. On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there, Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
SCENE II.--The same. That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
Another room in the At Holmedon met,
palace. Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour ; Enter Henry prince of Wales, and FALSTAFI. As by discharge of their artillery, And shape of likelihood, the news was told ; Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? For he, that brought them, in the very heat P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking And pride of their contention did take horse, of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, Uncertain of the issue any way.
and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou K. Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious hast forgotten to demand that truly, which thou friend,
would'st truly know. What a devil hast thou Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, to do with the time of the day ? unless hours Stain'd with the variation of each soil
were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. leaping houses, and the blessed sun himself a The earl of Douglas is discomfited;
fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffata ; I see Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty no reason why thou should'st be so superfluous knights,
to demand the time of the day. Balk'd in their own blood, did sir Walter see Ful. Indeed, you come near me, now,
Hal: On Holmedon's plains : Of prisoners, Hotspur for we, that take purses, go by the moon and took
seven stars ; and not by Phæbus,-he, that erasMordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son dering knight so fuir. And, I pray thee, swet To beaten Douglas ; and the earls of Athol, wag, when thou art king, -as, God save thy Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.
grace, (majesty, I should say; for grace thua And is not this an honourable spoil ?
wilt have none, A gallant prize ? ha, cousin, is it not ?
P. Hen. What! none ? West. In faith,
Fal. No, by my troth ; not so much as will It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and P. Hen. 'Well, how then ? come, roundly. mak'st me sin
Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes ; king, let not us, that are squires of the nights and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalbody, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let liest,-sweet young prince,--But, Hal, 1 pr’y; us be-Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, thee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would minions of the moon : And let men say, we be to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of men of good government; being governed as the good names were to be bought : An old lord of sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, the council rated me the other day in the street under whose countenance we-steal.
about you, sir ; but I marked him not: and yet P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well he talked very wisely; but I regarded him not: too: for the fortune of us, that are the moon's and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being go P. Hen. Thou did'st well; for wisdom cries verned as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, out in the streets, and no man regards it. now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatched Fal. O thou hast damnable iteration; and on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by; done much harm upon me, Hal,-God forgive and spent with crying-bring in: now, in as thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew low an ebb as the foot of the ladder ; and, by nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the truly, little better than one of the wicked. I gallows.
must give over this life, and I will give it over ; Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain ; I'll be is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet damned for never a king's son in Christendom. wench?
P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morP. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad row, Jack? of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an sweet robe of durance ?
I do not, call me villain, and baffle me. Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague thee; from praying, to purse-taking. have I to do with a buff jerkin ? P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with
Enter Poins, at a distance. my hostess of the tavern?
Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckon Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no ing, many a time and oft.
sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins ! P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? -Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a
Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, paid all there.
what hole in hell were hot enough for him ? P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my This is the most omnipotent villain, that ever coin would stretch ; and, where it would not, I cried, Stand, to a true man. have used my credit.
P. Hen. Good-morrow, Ned. Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not Poins. Good-morrow, sweet Hal.- What
says here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But, monsieur Remorse? What says sir John SackI pr’ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows and-Sugar ? Jack, how agrees the devil and standing in England when thou art king? and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira, and a curb of old father antick the law? Do not thou, cold capon's leg? when thou art king, hang a thief.
P. Hen. Sir John stands to his word, the deP. Hen. No; thou shalt.
vil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet Fal. Shall I ? O rare ! By the Lord, I'll be a a breaker of proverbs, he will give the devil his
due. P. Hen. Thou judgest false already ; I mean, Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping thy thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and word with the devil. so become a rare hangman.
P. Hen. Else he had been damned for cozena Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it ing the devil. jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow the court, I can tell you.
morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: P. Hen. For obtaining of suits ?
There are pilgrims going to Canterbury with Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits: whereof the rich offerings, and traders riding to London hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear. have horses for yourselves ; Gadshill lies to
P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. night in Rochester ; I have bespoke supper toFal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bag- morrow night in Eastcheap; we may do it as pipe.
secure as sleep: If you will go, I will stuff your P. Hen. What sayest thou to a hare, or the purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at melancholy of Moor-ditch ?
home, and be hanged.