The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare

But stand against us like an enemy.
Too indirect for long continuance.
Blunt. And God defend, but still I should Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the king?

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

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

The nature of your griefs; and whereupon

You conjure from the breast of civil peace

Such bold hostility, teaching this duteous land

love.

Audacious cruelty: If that the king

Have any way your good deserts forgot,

Which he confesseth to be manifold,

house. Enter the Archbishop of York, and a Gentleman.

He bids you name your griefs; and, with all speed SCENE IV.-York. A room in the archbishop's

You shall have your desires, with interest;

And pardon absolute for yourself, and these,

Arch. Hie, good sir Michael; bear this sealed

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.

Herein misled by your suggestion.

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

brief,

king

With winged haste, to the lord mareshal;

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,

Gent. My good lord,

I guess their tenor.

A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,

Arch.

Like enough you do.

My father gave him welcome to the shore:

To-morrow, good sir Michael, is a day,

He came but to be duke of Lancaster,

And, when he heard him swear, and vow to God, Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men

To sue his livery, 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 less 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.
Hol.

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. (3) The greater and the less.

(4) Letter.

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.

Above yon busky1 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 doff? our casy 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?

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,4
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 soul
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:
Yct this before my father's majesty, -
I am content, that he shall take the odds

Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it. Of his great name and estimation;
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;
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;

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 veb

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. [Erit. 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.

SCENE II.-The rebel camp. Enter Worcester

and Vernon.

Wor. O, no, my nephew must not know, sir The liberal kind offer of the king.

Richard,

Ver. 'Twere best he did. Wor.

[Exit. Making you ever better than his praise,
And, which became him like a prince indeed,
By still dispraising praise, valued with 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 owe3 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

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 apon 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 uncic 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. Het. 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. 0, '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.
(2) Recital. (3) Own.

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 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 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. 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 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.

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.
Enter Hotspur.

Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much :-
Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.

P. John. Not I, iny lord, unless I did bleed too.
P. Hen. I do beseech your majesty, make up,
Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.
K. Hen. I will do so:-

Hot. O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holme- My lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent. don thus,

I never had triúmph'd upon a Scot.
Doug. All's done, all's won; here breathless

lies the king.

Hot. Where?

Doug. Here.

West. Come, my lord, I will lead you to your tent.
P. Hen. Lead me, my lord? I do not need your
help:

And heaven forbid, a shallow scratch should drive
The prince of Wales from such a field as this;
Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on,

Hot. This, Douglas? no, I know this face full And rebels' arms triumph in massacres!

well:

P. John. We breathe too long:-Come, cousin
Westmoreland,
Our duty this way lies; for God's sake, come.

[Exeunt Prince John and Westmoreland.

P. Hen. By heaven, thou hast deceiv'd me,

Lancaster,

I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John;
But now, I do respect thee as my soul.

K. Hen. I saw him hold lord Piercy at the point,
With lustier maintenance than I did look for
Of such an ungrown warrior.

P. Hen.

Lends mettle to us all!

O, this boy

[Erit.

Alarums. Enter Douglas.

Fal. Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here's no scoring, but upon 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 I am the Douglas, fatal to all those

own bowels. I have led my raggamuffins where they are peppered: there's but three of my hundred and fifty left alive; and they are for the town's end, to beg during life. But who comes here?

Enter Prince Henry.

Doug. Another king! they grow like Hydra's heads:

That wear those colours on them. What art thou,
That counterfeit'st the person of a king?

K. Hen. The king himself; who, Douglas, grieves
at heart,

So many of his shadows thou hast met,
And not the very king. I have two boys,

P. Hen. What, stand'st thou idle here? lend me Seck Percy, and thyself, about the field:
thy sword:
Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff,
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemics,

Whose deaths are unreveng'd: Pr'ythee, lend thy

sword.

Fal. O Hal, I pr'ythee, give me leave to breathe a while. Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms, as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.

P. Hen. He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. Lend me thy sword, I pr'ythee.

But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
I will assay thee; so defend thyself.

Doug. I fear, thou art another counterfeit;
And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king:
But mine, I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
And thus I win thee.

[They fight; the King being in danger, enter Prince Henry.

art like

P. Hen. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou Never to hold it up again! the spirits Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, Of Shirly, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms: thou get'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if It is the prince of Wales, that threatens thee; Who never promiseth, but he means to pay.P. Hen. Give it me: What, is it in the case? [They fight; Douglas flies Fal. Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will Cheerly, my lord; How fares your grace?sack a city. Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,

thou wilt.

[The Prince draws out a bottle of sack. And so hath Clifton; I'll to Clifton straight. P. Hen. What, is't a time to jest and dally now? K. Hen. Stay, and breathe awhile:[Throws it at him, and exit. Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion; Fal. Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If And show'd, thou mak'st some tender of my life, he do come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come In this fair rescue thou has brought to me. in his, willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. P. Hen. O heaven! they did me too much in I like not such grinning honour as sir Walter hath:

jury,

Give me life: which if I can save, so; if not, That ever said, I hearken'd for your death. honour comes unlooked for, and there's an end. If it were so, I might have let alone

[Exit. The insulting hand of Douglas over you, SCENE IV. Another part of the field. Alarums. Which would have been as speedy in your end, Excursions. Enter the King, Prince Henry, As all the poisonous potions in the world, Prince John, and Westmoreland.

K. Hen. I pr'ythee,

(1) In resemblance.

(2) A piece of neat cut crosswise for the gridiron.

And sav'd the treacherous labour of your son.
K. Hen. Make up to Clifton, I'll to sir Nicholas
Gawsey.
[Exit King Henry.

(3) Reputation.

A very valiant rebel of the name.

Why, then I see

I am the prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,
To share with me in glory any more:
I wo stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
Nor can one England brook a double reign,
Of Harry Percy, and the prince of Wales.

Hot. Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come
To end the one of us; And 'would to God,
Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!

P. Hen. I'll make it greater, ere I part from thee; And all the budding honours on thy crest Fil crop, to make a garland for my head. Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities.

Enter Falstaff.

life of a man: but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion; in the which better part, I have saved my life. Zounds, I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead: How, if he should counterfeit too, and rise? I am afraid he would prove the better counterfcit. Therefore I'll make him sure: yea, and I'll swear I killed him. Why may not he rise, as well as I? Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore, sirrah, [Stabbing him.] with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me. [Takes Hotspur on his back.

Re-enter Prince Henry and Prince John. P. Hen. Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesh'd

Thy maiden sword. P. John.

But soft! whom have we here? [They fight. Did you not tell me, this fat man was dead?

Fal. Well said, Hal! to it, Hal!-Nay, you shall find no boy's play here, I can tell you.

Enter Douglas; he fights with Falstaff, who falls down as if he were dead, and exit Douglas. Hotspur is wounded, and falls.

Hot. O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth: I better brook the loss of brittle life;

Than those proud titles thou hast won of me;

They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my flesh:

But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool;
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
But that the earthy and cold hand of death
Lies on my tongue: -No, Percy, thou art dust,
And food for--

[Dies.

P. Hen. For worms, brave Percy: Fare thee well, great heart!

Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
When that this body did contain a spirit,
A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
But now, two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough: -This earth, that bears thee dead,
Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.

If thou wert sensible of courtesy,

I should not make so dear a show of zeal:-
But let my favours1 hide thy mangled face;
And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself
For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
But not remember'd in thy epitaph!-

[He sees Falstaff on the ground.
What! old acquaintance! could not all this flesh
Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!
I could have better spar'd a better man.
O, I should have a heavy miss of thee,
If I were much in love with vanity.
Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day,
Though many dearer, in this bloody fray:
Embowell'd will I see thee by and by;
Till then, in blood by noble Percy lie.

[Exit.

P. Hen. I did; I saw him dead, breathless and

bleeding Upon the ground. Art thou alive? or is it phantasy That plays upon our eye-sight? I pr'ythee, speak; We will not trust our eyes, without our ears:

Thou art not what thou seem'st.

Fal. No, that's certain; I am not a double man. but if I be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy: [Throwing the body down.] if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either earl or duke, I can assure you.

P. Hen. Why, Percy I killed myself, and saw thee dead.

Fal. Didst thou?-Lord, lord, how this world is given to lying!-I grant you, I was down, and out of breath; and so was he: but we rose both at an

instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be believed, so; if not, let them, that should reward valour, bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take it upon my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh: if the man were alive, and would deny it, I would make him eat a piece of my sword.

P. John. This is the strangest tale that e'er I heard.

P. Hen. This is the strangest fellow, brother John.-Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back: For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.

[A retreat is sounded.

The trumpet sounds retreat, the day is ours.
Come, brother, let's to the highest of the field,
To see what friends are living, who are dead.

Exeunt Prince Henry and Prince John. Fal. I'll follow, as they savy, for reward. He that rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great, I'll grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly, as a nobleman should do.

[Exit, bearing off the body.

SCENE V.-Another part of the field. The trumpets sound. Enter King Henry, Prince Henry, Prince John, Westmoreland, and others; with Worcester, and Vernon, prisoners.

K. Hen. Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.

Fal. [Rising slowly.] Embowell'd! If thou embowel me to-day, I'll give you leave to powder2 me, and eat me too, to-morrow. 'Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lie, I am no Ill-spirited Worcester!-did we not send grace, counterfeit: To die, is to be a counterfeit; for he Pardon, and terms of love to all of you ? is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the And would'st thou turn our offers contrary?

(1) Scarf with which he covers Percy's face.

(2) Salt. SF

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from ..., Volumen1