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. 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 bans; such a commodity of warm slaves, as had as lief hear the devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a caliver, worse than a stuck fowl, or a hurt wild-duck. I pressed me none but such toasts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins' 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 servingmen, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers of a calm world, and a long peace; ten times more dishonourable ragged than an old-faced ancient and such have I, to fill up the 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 scen such scare-crows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat: Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the 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 long. Fal. Well, To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest. [Exeunt. SCENE III.—The rebel camp near Shrewsbury, Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, and VERNON. Hot. We'll fight with him to-night. Doug. You give him then advantage. Hot. Why say you so? looks he not for supply? Ver. So do we. Hot. His certain, ours is doubtful. 6 Wor. Good cousin, be advis'd: stir not to- | And,-when he was not six and twenty strong, night. Ver. Do not, my lord. Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low, Doug. You do not counsel well; I hold as little counsel with weak fear, God, He came but to be duke of Lancaster, Enter Sir WALTER BLUNT. king, Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the In deputation left behind him here, In short time after, he depos'd the king; Doug. Yea, or to-night. Ver. Content. Hot. To-night, say I. Ver. Come, come, it may not be. Wor. The number of the king exceedeth ours: If you vouchsafe me hearing, and respect. You were of our determination! So long as, out of limit, and true rule, He bids you name your griefs; and, with all You shall have your desires, with interest; Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, Knows at what time to promise, when to pay. 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 SCENE IV.-York. A room in the Archbishop's Enter the Archbishop of YORK, and a Arch. Hie, good sir Michael; bear this sealed With winged haste, to the lord mareshal; haste. Gent. My good lord, Arch. Like enough, you do. (Who with them was a rated sinew too, SCENE I.—The King's camp near Shrewsbury. K. Hen. How bloodily the sun begins to peer P. Hen. The southern wind Doth play the trumpet to his purposes; K. Hen. Then with the losers let it sympa- For nothing can seem foul to those that win.— Trumpet. Enter WORCESTER and VERNON. ACT V. The special head of all the land together ;- 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. [Exeunt severally, Where you did give a fair and natural light; For mine own part, I could be well content Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it. P. Hen. Peace, chewet, peace. 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; 3 Nor claim no further than your new-fall’n right, | Do make against it :-No, good Worcester, no, what with the absent king; Shall be my friend again, and I'll be his : And they shall do their office. So, be gone; That all in England did repute him dead. We will not now be troubled with reply: And, from this swarm of fair advantages, We offer fair, take it advisedly. You took occasion to be quickly woo'd [Exeunt Worcester and Vernon. To gripe the general sway into your hand; P. Hen. It will not be accepted, on my life: Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster ; The Douglas and the Hotspur both together And, being fed by us, you us'd us so Are confident against the world in arms. As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird, K. Hen. Hence, therefore, every leader to his Useth the sparrow: did oppress our nest; charge ; Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk, For, on their answer, will we set on them : That even our love durst not come near your And God befriend us, as our cause is just ! sight, [Exeunt King, Blunt, and Prince John. For fear of swallowing ; but with nimble wing Fal. Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, We were enforc'd, for safety's sake, to fly and bestride me, so ; 'tis a point of friendship. Out of your sight, and raise this present head : P. Hen. Nothing but a colossus can do thee Whereby we stand opposed by such means that friendship: Say thy prayers, and farewell. As you yourself have forg'd against yourself ; Fal. I would it were bed-time, Hal, and all By unkind usage, dangerous countenance, well. And violation of all faith and troth P. Hen. Why, thou owest God a death. Sworn to us in your younger enterprize. Erit. K. Hen. These things, indeed, you have arti- Fal. 'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to culated, pay him before his day. What need I be so forProclaim'd at market-crosses, read in churches; ward with him that calls not on me? Well, 'tis To face the garment of rebellion no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but With some fine colour, that may please the eye how if honour prick me off when I come on? Of fickle changelings, and poor discontents, how then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or Which gape and rub the elbow, at the news an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? Of hurlyburly innovation : No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. And never yet did insurrection want What is honour? A word. What is in that word, Such water-colours, to impaint his cause ; honour? What is that honour ? Air. A trim Nor moody beggars, starving for a time reckoning !-Who hath it? He that died o’WedOf pell-mell havock and confusion. nesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear P. Hen. In both our armies, there is many a it? No. Is it insensible then? Yea, to the soul dead. But will it not live with the living ? No. Shall pay full dearly for this encounter, Why? Detraction will not suffer it :-therefore If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew, I'll ndne of it: Honour is a mere scutcheon, and The prince of Wales doth join with all the world so ends my catechism. [Exit. In praise of Henry Percy : By my hopes,– This present enterprize set off his head, SCENE II.-The rebel camp. Enter WORCESTER and VERNON. Wor. O, no, my nephew must not know, sir Το this latter age Richard, Ver. 'Twere best, he did. Wor. Then are we all undone. Yet this before my father's majesty, It is not possible, it cannot be, I am content, that he shall take the odds The king should keep his word in loving us; of his great name and estimation ; He will suspect us still, and find a time And will, to save the blood on either side, To punish this offence in other faults : Try fortune with him in a single fight. Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes : K. Hen. And, prince of Wales, so dare we For treason is but trusted like the fox; venture thee, Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish’d, and lock'd up, Albeit, considerations infinite Will have a wild trick of his ancestors. grace Look how we can, or sad, or merrily, England did never owe so sweet a hope, Interpretation will misquote our looks; So much misconstrued in his wantonness. And we shall feed like oxen at a stall, Hot. Cousin, I think, thou art enamoured The better cherish’d, still the nearer death. Upon his follies; never did I hear My nephew's trespass may be well forgot, Of any prince, so wild, at liberty :It hath the excuse of youth, and heat of blood; But, be he as he will, yet once ere night And an adopted name of privilege, I will embrace him wit a soldier's arm, A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen: That he shall shrink under my courtesy:All his offences live upon my head, Arm, arm, with speed :-And, fellows, soldiers, And on his father's ;-we did train him on; friends, And, his corruption being ta'en from us, Better consider what you have to do, We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all. Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue, Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know, Can lift your blood up with persuasion. In any case, the offer of the king. Ver. Deliver what you will, l'll say, 'tis so. Enter a Messenger. Here comes your cousin. Mess. My lord, here are letters for you. Hot. I cannot read them now. Enter Hotspur and Douglas; and Officers o gentlemen, the time of life is short; and Soldiers, behind. To spend that shortness basely, were too long, Hot. My uncle is return’d :--Deliver up If life did ride upon a dial's point, My lord of Westmoreland.—Uncle, what news? Still ending at the arrival of an hour. Wor. The king will bid you battle presently, An if we live, we live to tread on kings; Doug. Defy him by the lord of Westmoreland. If die, brave death, when princes die with us! Hot. Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so. Now for our conscience,-the arms are fair, Doug. Marry, and shall, and very willingly. When the intent of bearing them is just. [Erit. Wor. There is no seeming mercy in the king. Enter another Messenger. Hot. Did you beg any ? God forbid ! Mess. My lord, prepare ; the king comes 02 Wor. I told him gently of our grievances, apace. Of his oath-breaking ; which he mended thus, Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale, By now forswearing that he is forsworn : For I profess not talking ; Only thisHe calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge Let each man do his best : and here draw I With haughty arms this hateful name in us. A sword, whose temper I intend to stain With the best blood that I can meet withal Re-enter DOUGLAS. In the adventure of this perilous day. Doug; Arm, gentlemen ; to arms ! for I have Now,-Esperance !--Percy !—and set on.thrown Sound all the lofty instruments of war, A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth, And by that music let us all embrace: And Westmoreland, that was engag’d, did bearit; For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on. A second time do such a courtesy, Wor. The prince of Wales stepp'd forth before [The trumpets sound. They embruce, the king, and exeunt. And, nephew, challeng'd you to single fight. Hot. O, 'would the quarrel lay upon our heads; SCENE III.- Plain near Shrewsbury. baitle. Then enter DOUGLAS and Blrxi, Ver. No, by my soul ; I never in my life meeting Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly, Blunt. What is thy name, that in the battle Unless a brother should a brother dare thus To gentle exercise and proof of arms. Thou crossest me? What honour dost thou sæk He gave you all the duties of a man; Upon my head ? Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue; Doug. Know then, my name is Douglas ; Spoke your deservings like a chronicle; And I do haunt thee in the battle thus, Making you ever better than his praise, Because some tell me, that thou art a king. By still dispraising praise, valued with you: Blunt. They tell thee true. And, which became him like a prince indeed, Doug. The lord of Stafford dear to-day He made a blushing cital of himself ; bought And chid his truant youth with such a grace, Thy likeness; for, instead of thee, king Ilarry, As if he master'd there a double spirit, This sword hath ended him: so shall it the, Of teaching, and of learning, instantly. Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner. There did he pause : But let me tell the world, Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud If he outlive the envy of this day, Scot; |