ACT I. SCENE I.- London. A Room in the Palace. K. Hen. Here is a dear and true industrious friend, Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, Enter KING HENRY, WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER Stain'd with the variation of each soil BLUNT, and others. K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in stronds' afar remote. No more the thirsty Erinnys of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; No more shall trenching war channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, Which,-like the meteors of a troubled heaven, All of one nature, of one substance bred,Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery, Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks, March all one way; and be no more oppos'd Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies: The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, (Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross We are impressed and engag'd to fight,) Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb To chase these pagans, in those holy fields, Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet, Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd For our advantage, on the bitter cross. But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old, And bootless 'tis to tell you - we will go; Therefore we meet not now: - Then let me hear Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, What yesternight our council did decree In forwarding this dear expedience.3 West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, And many limits of the charge set down But yesternight: when, all athwart, there came A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news; Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight Against the irregular and wild Glendower, Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, And a thousand of his people butchered. K. Hen. It seems, then, that the tidings of this broil Brake off our business for the Holy Land. West. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious lord; For more uneven and unwelcome news Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour; And shape of likelihood, the news was told; 1 Strands, banks of the sea. 4 Estimates. 2 The fury of discord. 5 September 14. Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; To beaten Douglas; and the earls of Athol, A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? West. It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. In envy that my lord Northumberland A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue; coz', Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, Malevolent to you in all aspects; Which makes him prune 7 himself, and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity. K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this; Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we [Exeunt. SCENE II. · Another Room in the Palace. Enter HENRY Prince of Wales, and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. What hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, I see no reason, why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. Fal. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for 6 Piled up in a heap. 7 Trim, as birds clean their feathers. we that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phoebus, he, that wandering knight so fair. And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king,-as, save thy grace, (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none,) P. Hen. What, none? Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government: being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we-steal. P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too: for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by 8; and spent with crying - bring in 9: now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. Thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet girl? P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? I Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what have I to do with a buff jerkin? P. Hen. Why, what have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, many a time and oft. P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and, where it would not, I have used my credit. Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,— But, I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antick the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. P. Hen. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O rare! I'll be a brave judge. P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman. Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you. P. Hen. For obtaining of suits? Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits: whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. I am as melancholy as a lugged bear. P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.2 P. Hen. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes; and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince,— But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I wish thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir; but I marked him not: and yet he talked very wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. P. Hen. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. Fal. O thou art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal, Heaven forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; an I do not, I am a villain. P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack? 3 Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle 3 me. P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, to purse-taking. Enter POINS, at a distance.. What says Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. monsieur Remorse? What says sir John Sack-andSugar? My lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: There are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves: Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns: if you will not, tarry at home, and be hanged. Fal. Hear me, Yedward; if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops? Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? P. Hen. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings, 5 P. Hen. Well, then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. Fal. Why, that's well said. P. Hen. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. Fal. I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. P. Hen. I care not. Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go. Fal. Well, mayst thou have the spirit of persuasion, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be believed, that the true prince may (for recreation 3 Treat me with ignominy. 4 Made an appointment. The value of a coin called real or royal, sake) prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: You shall find me in Eastcheap. P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell All-hallown summer! 6 [Exit FALSTAFF. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jest to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that we have already waylaid; yourself, and I, will not be there: and when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders. P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in setting forth. Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. P. Hen. Ay, but, 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce 7, to immask our noted outward garments. us. P. Hen. But, I doubt, they will be too hard for Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endur'd; and, in the reproof of this, lies the jest. P. Hen. Well, I'll go with thee; provide us all things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. [Erit POINS. But, when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come. [Exit. • Fine weather at All-hallown.tide, (i. e. All-Saints, Nov. 1st,) is called an All-hallown summer. 7 Occasion. SCENE III. -Another Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others. K. Hen. My blood hath been too cold and temperate, Unapt to stir at these indignities, serves, The scourge of greatness to be us'd on it; North. My lord, K. Hen. Worcester, get thee gone, for I see danger And disobedience in thine eye; O, sir, Your presence is too bold and peremptory And majesty might never yet endure The moody frontier of a servant brow. You have good leave to leave us; when we need Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. You were about to speak. [Exit WORCESTER. [TO NORTH. North. Yea, my good lord. Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded, Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, Were, as he says, not with such strength denied As is deliver'd to your majesty : Either envy, therefore, or misprision, Is guilty of this fault, and not my son. Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners. And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held He call'd them-untaught knaves, unmannerly, With many holiday and lady terms He question'd me; among the rest demanded I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, To be so pester'd with a popinjay, Out of my grief and my impatience, He should, or he should not; for he made me mad, mark!) And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on carth Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, so it was, 8 Disposition. 9 A small box for musk or other perfumes, Betwixt my love and your high majesty. Whatever Harry Percy then had said, Blunt. The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, Yes, I will speak of him; and let my soul To such a person, and in such a place, K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners; But with proviso, and exception, That we, at our own charge, shall ransome straight He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, In single opposition, hand to hand, He did confound the best part of an hour Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; Colour her working with such deadly wounds; mad. Want mercy, if I do not join with him : North. He was; I heard the proclamation : From whence he, intercepted, did return Wor. And for whose death, we in the world's wide mouth Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of. Hot. But, soft, I pray you; Did king Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer North. king, That wish'd him on the barren mountains starv'd. K. Hen. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost Shall it, for shame, be spoken in these days, Or fill up chronicles in time to come, Peace, cousin, say no more: And now I will unclasp a secret book, And to your quick-conceiving discontents I'll read you matter deep and dangerous; As full of peril, and advent'rous spirit, As to o'er-walk a current, roaring loud, On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! The devil take such cozeners! Hot. If he fall in, good night :—or sink or swim: And, - gentle Harry Percy, me! And let them grapple ; O! the blood more stirs, Good uncle, tell your tale, for I have done. To rouse a lion, than to start a hare. North. Imagination of some great exploit Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. Hot. By heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap, Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here, That are your prisoners, Hot. Those same noble Scots, I'll keep them all; By heaven, he shall not have a Scot of them: No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: I'll keep them, by this hand. Wor. You start away, And lend no ear unto my purposes. These prisoners you shall keep. Hot. I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak Wor. Cousin; a word. Hear you, Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy, Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: And that same sword-and-buckler prince of Wales,But that I think his father loves him not, And would be glad he met with some mischance, I'd have him poison'd with a pot of ale. Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you, Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear Wor. Nay, if you have not, to't again; We'll stay your leisure. Hot. I have done, i'faith. Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. Deliver them up without their ransome straight, And make the Douglas' son your only mean For powers in Scotland; which,- for divers reasons, Which I shall send you written, be assur'd, Will easily be granted. - You my lord, - [To NORTHUMBERLAND. Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd, — Shall secretly into the bosom creep Of that same noble prelate, well belov'd The archbishop. Hot. Of York, is't not? Wor. True; who bears hard His brother's death at Bristol, the lord Scroop. As what I think might be, but what I know Hot. I smell it; upon my life, it will do well. Wor. The king will always think him in our debt; Hot. He does, he does: we'll be reveng'd on him. trust. Hot. Uncle, adieu : - O, let the hours be short, Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our sport! [Exeunt A body of forces. |