3.1 Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, LORD MORTIMER, OWEN GLENDOWER.

MORTIMER     These promises are fair, the parties sure,
And our induction full of prosperous hope.
HOTSPUR
Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, will you sit down?
And uncle Worcester. A plague upon it!
I have forgot the map.
GLENDOWER     No, here it is:	5
Sit, cousin Percy, sit, good cousin Hotspur;
For by that name as oft as Lancaster doth speak of you
His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh
He wisheth you in heaven.
HOTSPUR     And you in hell,
As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.	10
GLENDOWER     I cannot blame him; at my nativity
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
Of burning cressets, and at my birth
The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shak’d like a coward.
HOTSPUR     Why, so it would have done	15
At the same season if your mother’s cat
Had but kitten’d, though yourself had never been born.
GLENDOWER
I say the earth did shake when I was born.
HOTSPUR     And I say the earth was not of my mind,
If you suppose as fearing you it shook.	20
GLENDOWER
The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble –
HOTSPUR
O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,
And not in fear of your nativity.
Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
In strange eruptions, oft the teeming earth	25
Is with a kind of colic pinch’d and vex’d
By the imprisoning of unruly wind
Within her womb, which for enlargement striving
Shakes the old beldam earth, and topples down
Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth	30
Our grandam earth, having this distemp’rature,
In passion shook.
GLENDOWER     Cousin, of many men
I do not bear these crossings; give me leave
To tell you once again that at my birth
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,	35
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have mark’d me extraordinary,
And all the courses of my life do show
I am not in the roll of common men.	40
Where is he living, clipp’d in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?
And bring him out that is but woman’s son
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,	45
And hold me pace in deep experiments.
HOTSPUR     I think there’s no man speaks better Welsh:
I’ll to dinner.
MORTIMER
Peace, cousin Percy, you will make him mad.
GLENDOWER     I can call spirits from the vasty deep.	50
HOTSPUR     Why, so can I, or so can any man,
But will they come when you do call for them?
GLENDOWER
Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil.
HOTSPUR
And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil,
By telling truth; tell truth, and shame the devil.	55
If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
And I’ll be sworn I have power to shame him hence:
O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil!
MORTIMER
Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.
GLENDOWER
Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head	60
Against my power, thrice from the banks of Wye
And sandy-bottom’d Severn have I sent him
Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.
HOTSPUR
Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
How scapes he agues, in the devil’s name?	65
GLENDOWER
Come, here is the map, shall we divide our right
According to our threefold order ta’en?
MORTIMER     The Archdeacon hath divided it
Into three limits very equally:
England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,	70
By south and east is to my part assign’d:
All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
And all the fertile land within that bound,
To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you
The remnant northward lying off from Trent.	75
And our indentures tripartite are drawn,
Which being sealed interchangeably,
(A business that this night may execute)
Tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I
And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth	80
To meet your father and the Scottish power,
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
My father Glendower is not ready yet,
Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.
[to Glendower] Within that space you may have drawn together	85
Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen.
GLENDOWER
A shorter time shall send me to you, lords,
And in my conduct shall your ladies come,
From whom you now must steal and take no leave,
For there will be a world of water shed	90
Upon the parting of your wives and you.
HOTSPUR
Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,
In quantity equals not one of yours:
See how this river comes me cranking in,
And cuts me from the best of all my land	95
A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
I’ll have the current in this place damm’d up,
And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
In a new channel fair and evenly;
It shall not wind with such a deep indent,	100
To rob me of so rich a bottom here.
GLENDOWER
Not wind? It shall, it must – you see it doth.
MORTIMER     Yea,
But mark how he bears his course, and runs me up
With like advantage on the other side,	105
Gelding the opposed continent as much
As on the other side it takes from you.
WORCESTER
Yea, but a little charge will trench him here,
And on this north side win this cape of land,
And then he runs straight and even.	110
HOTSPUR     I’ll have it so, a little charge will do it.
GLENDOWER     I’ll not have it alter’d.
HOTSPUR     Will not you?
GLENDOWER     No, nor you shall not.
HOTSPUR     Who shall say me nay?
GLENDOWER     Why, that will I.
HOTSPUR
Let me not understand you then, speak it in Welsh.	115
GLENDOWER     I can speak English, lord, as well as you,
For I was train’d up in the English court,
Where being but young I framed to the harp
Many an English ditty lovely well,
And gave the tongue a helpful ornament –	120
A virtue that was never seen in you.
HOTSPUR     Marry and I am glad of it with all my heart!
I had rather be a kitten and cry ‘mew’
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers;
I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn’d,	125
Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree,
And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry –
’Tis like the forc’d gait of a shuffling nag.
GLENDOWER     Come, you shall have Trent turn’d.	130
HOTSPUR     I do not care, I’ll give thrice so much land
To any well-deserving friend:
But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I’ll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be gone?	135
GLENDOWER
The moon shines fair, you may away by night:
I’ll haste the writer, and withal
Break with your wives of your departure hence.
I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
So much she doteth on her Mortimer.     Exit.	140
MORTIMER     Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father!
HOTSPUR     I cannot choose; sometime he angers me
With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,
Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,
And of a dragon and a finless fish,	145
A clip-wing’d griffin and a moulten raven,
A couching lion and a ramping cat,
And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
As puts me from my faith. I tell you what –
He held me last night at least nine hours	150
In reckoning up the several devils’ names
That were his lackeys: I cried ‘Hum’, and ‘Well, go to!’
But mark’d him not a word. O, he is as tedious
As a tired horse, a railing wife,
Worse than a smoky house. I had rather live	155
With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,
Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
In any summer house in Christendom.
MORTIMER     In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
Exceedingly well read, and profited	160
In strange concealments, valiant as a lion,
And wondrous affable, and as bountiful
As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
He holds your temper in a high respect
And curbs himself even of his natural scope	165
When you come ‘cross his humour, faith he does:
I warrant you that man is not alive
Might so have tempted him as you have done
Without the taste of danger and reproof:
But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.	170
WORCESTER
In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame,
And since your coming hither have done enough
To put him quite besides his patience;
You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault.
Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,	175
– And that’s the dearest grace it renders you –
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain,
The least of which haunting a nobleman	180
Loseth men’s hearts and leaves behind a stain
Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
Beguiling them of commendation.
HOTSPUR
Well, I am school’d – good manners be your speed!
Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.	185
Re-enter GLENDOWER with the Ladies.
MORTIMER     This is the deadly spite that angers me,
My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.
GLENDOWER
My daughter weeps, she’ll not part with you,
She’ll be a soldier too, she’ll to the wars.
MORTIMER
Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy	190
Shall follow in your conduct speedily.
[Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him
in the same.]
GLENDOWER
She is desperate here, a peevish, self-willed harlotry,
one that no persuasion can do good upon.
[The lady speaks in Welsh.]
MORTIMER     I understand thy looks, that pretty Welsh
Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens	195
I am too perfect in, and but for shame
In such a parley should I answer thee.
[The lady speaks again in Welsh.]
I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,
And that’s a feeling disputation,
But I will never be a truant, love,	200
Till I have learnt thy language, for thy tongue
Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn’d,
Sung by a fair queen in a summer’s bow’r
With ravishing division to her lute.
GLENDOWER     Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.	205
[The lady speaks again in Welsh.]
MORTIMER     O, I am ignorance itself in this!
GLENDOWER
She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down,
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,
And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,	210
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,
Making such difference ’twixt wake and sleep
As is the difference betwixt day and night,
The hour before the heavenly-harness’d team
Begins his golden progress in the east.	215
MORTIMER     With all my heart I’ll sit and hear her sing,
By that time will our book I think be drawn.
GLENDOWER
Do so, and those musicians that shall play to you
Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,
And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend.	220
HOTSPUR     Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down:
Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.
LADY PERCY     Go, ye giddy goose. [The music plays.]
HOTSPUR     Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh,
And ’tis no marvel he is so humorous,	225
By’r lady, he is a good musician.
LADY PERCY     Then should you be nothing but musical,
For you are altogether govern’d by humours.
Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh.
HOTSPUR
I had rather hear Lady my brach howl in Irish.	230
LADY PERCY     Wouldst thou have thy head broken?
HOTSPUR     No.
LADY PERCY     Then be still.
HOTSPUR     Neither, ’tis a woman’s fault.
LADY PERCY     Now God help thee!	235
HOTSPUR     To the Welsh lady’s bed.
LADY PERCY     What’s that?
HOTSPUR     Peace, she sings.
[Here the lady sings a Welsh song.]
Come, Kate, I’ll have your song too.
LADY PERCY     Not mine, in good sooth.	240
HOTSPUR     Not yours, in good sooth! Heart, you swear
like a comfit-maker’s wife – ‘Not you, in good sooth!’,
and ‘As true as I live!’, and ‘As God shall mend me!’,
and ‘As sure as day!’ –
And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths	245
As if thou never walk’st further than Finsbury.
Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
A good mouth-filling oath, and leave ‘In sooth’,
And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,
To velvet-guards, and Sunday citizens.	250
Come, sing.
LADY PERCY     I will not sing.
HOTSPUR     ’Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be
redbreast teacher. And the indentures be drawn I’ll
away within these two hours; and so come in when ye	255
will.     Exit.
GLENDOWER
Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow
As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go:
By this our book is drawn – we’ll but seal,
And then to horse immediately.
MORTIMER     With all my heart.	260
Exeunt.

3.2 Enter the KING, PRINCE OF WALES and others.

KING     Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I
Must have some private conference: but be near at hand,
For we shall presently have need of you.
Exeunt lords.
I know not whether God will have it so
For some displeasing service I have done,	5
That in his secret doom out of my blood
He’ll breed revengement and a scourge for me;
But thou dost in thy passages of life
Make me believe that thou art only mark’d
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven,	10
To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else
Could such inordinate and low desires,
Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,
Such barren pleasures, rude society,
As thou art match’d withal, and grafted to,	15
Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
And hold their level with thy princely heart?
PRINCE     So please your Majesty, I would I could
Quit all offences with as clear excuse
As well as I am doubtless I can purge	20
Myself of many I am charg’d withal:
Yet such extenuation let me beg
As, in reproof of many tales devis’d,
Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,
By smiling pickthanks, and base newsmongers,	25
I may for some things true, wherein my youth
Hath faulty wander’d and irregular,
Find pardon on my true submission.
KING     God pardon thee! Yet let me wonder, Harry,
At thy affections, which do hold a wing	30
Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
Thy place in Council thou hast rudely lost,
Which by thy younger brother is supply’d,
And art almost an alien to the hearts
Of all the court and princes of my blood:	35
The hope and expectation of thy time
Is ruin’d, and the soul of every man
Prophetically do forethink thy fall.
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackney’d in the eyes of men,	40
So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to possession,
And left me in reputeless banishment,
A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.	45
By being seldom seen, I could not stir
But like a comet I was wonder’d at,
That men would tell their children, ‘This is he!’
Others would say, ‘Where, which is Bolingbroke?’
And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,	50
And dress’d myself in such humility
That I did pluck allegiance from men’s hearts,
Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,
Even in the presence of the crowned King.
Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,	55
My presence, like a robe pontifical,
Ne’er seen but wonder’d at, and so my state,
Seldom, but sumptuous, show’d like a feast,
And wan by rareness such solemnity.
The skipping King, he ambled up and down,	60
With shallow jesters, and rash bavin wits,
Soon kindled and soon burnt, carded his state,
Mingled his royalty with cap’ring fools,
Had his great name profaned with their scorns,
And gave his countenance against his name	65
To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push
Of every beardless vain comparative,
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoff ‘d himself to popularity,
That, being daily swallow’d by men’s eyes,	70
They surfeited with honey, and began
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
So, when he had occasion to be seen,
He was but as the cuckoo is in June,	75
Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes
As, sick and blunted with community,
Afford no extraordinary gaze,
Such as is bent on sun-like majesty
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes,	80
But rather drows’d and hung their eyelids down,
Slept in his face, and render’d such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
Being with his presence glutted, gorg’d, and full.
And in that very line, Harry, standest thou,	85
For thou hast lost thy princely privilege
With vile participation. Not an eye
But is a-weary of thy common sight,
Save mine, which hath desir’d to see thee more,
Which now doth that I would not have it do,	90
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
PRINCE     I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord,
Be more myself.
KING     For all the world
As thou art to this hour was Richard then
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,	95
And even as I was then is Percy now.
Now by my sceptre, and my soul to boot,
He hath more worthy interest to the state
Than thou the shadow of succession.
For of no right, nor colour like to right,	100
He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,
Turns head against the lion’s armed jaws,
And being no more in debt to years than thou
Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on
To bloody battles, and to bruising arms.	105
What never-dying honour hath he got
Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds,
Whose hot incursions and great name in arms,
Holds from all soldiers chief majority
And military title capital	110
Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ.
Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes,
This infant warrior, in his enterprises
Discomfited great Douglas, ta’en him once,
Enlarged him, and made a friend of him,	115
To fill the mouth of deep defiance up,
And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
The Archbishop’s Grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,
Capitulate against us and are up.	120
But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?
Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
Which art my nearest and dearest enemy?
Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,
Base inclination, and the start of spleen,	125
To fight against me under Percy’s pay,
To dog his heels, and curtsy at his frowns,
To show how much thou art degenerate.
PRINCE     Do not think so, you shall not find it so;
And God forgive them that so much have sway’d	130
Your Majesty’s good thoughts away from me!
I will redeem all this on Percy’s head,
And in the closing of some glorious day
Be bold to tell you that I am your son,
When I will wear a garment all of blood,	135
And stain my favours in a bloody mask,
Which, wash’d away, shall scour my shame with it;
And that shall be the day, whene’er it lights,
That this same child of honour and renown,
This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,	140
And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.
For every honour sitting on his helm,
Would they were multitudes, and on my head
My shames redoubled! For the time will come
That I shall make this northern youth exchange	145
His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf,
And I will call him to so strict account
That he shall render every glory up,	150
Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
This in the name of God I promise here,
The which if He be pleas’d I shall perform,
I do beseech your Majesty may salve	155
The long-grown wounds of my intemperance:
If not, the end of life cancels all bands,
And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
KING     A hundred thousand rebels die in this –	160
Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.
Enter BLUNT.
How now, good Blunt? Thy looks are full of speed.
BLUNT     So hath the business that I come to speak of.
Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word
That Douglas and the English rebels met	165
The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury.
A mighty and a fearful head they are,
If promises be kept on every hand,
As ever offer’d foul play in a state.
KING     The Earl of Westmoreland set forth today,	170
With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster,
For this advertisement is five days old.
On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward,
On Thursday we ourselves will march.
Our meeting is Bridgnorth, and, Harry, you	175
Shall march through Gloucestershire, by which account,
Our business valued, some twelve days hence
Our general forces at Bridgnorth shall meet.
Our hands are full of business, let’s away,
Advantage feeds him fat while men delay.     Exeunt.	180

3.3 Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.

FALSTAFF     Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since
this last action? Do I not bate? Do I not dwindle? Why,
my skin hangs about me like an old lady’s loose gown.
I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, I’ll repent,
and that suddenly, while I am in some liking; I shall be	5
out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength
to repent. And I have not forgotten what the inside of
a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer’s
horse: the inside of a church! Company, villainous
company, hath been the spoil of me.	10
BARDOLPH     Sir John, you are so fretful you cannot live
long.
FALSTAFF     Why, there is it: come, sing me a bawdy song,
make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a
gentleman need to be; virtuous enough; swore little;	15
diced not above seven times – a week; went to a
bawdy-house not above once in a quarter – of an hour;
paid money that I borrowed – three or four times;
lived well, and in good compass; and now I live out of
all order, out of all compass.	20
BARDOLPH     Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must
needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable
compass, Sir John.
FALSTAFF     Do thou amend thy face, and I’ll amend my
life: thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in	25
the poop, but ’tis in the nose of thee: thou art the
Knight of the Burning Lamp.
BARDOLPH     Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.
FALSTAFF     No, I’ll be sworn, I make as good use of it as
many a man doth of a death’s-head, or a memento mori.	30
I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire, and
Dives that lived in purple: for there he is in his robes,
burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to
virtue, I would swear by thy face: my oath should be
‘By this fire, that’s God’s angel!’ But thou art	35
altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the
light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou
ran’st up Gad’s Hill in the night to catch my horse, if
I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus, or a ball
of wildfire, there’s no purchase in money. O, thou art	40
a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light!
Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and
torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern
and tavern: but the sack that thou hast drunk me
would have bought me lights as good cheap at the	45
dearest chandler’s in Europe. I have maintained that
salamander of yours with fire any time this two and
thirty years, God reward me for it!
BARDOLPH     ‘Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!
FALSTAFF     God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be	50
heartburnt.
Enter Hostess.
How now, dame Partlet the hen, have you enquired yet
who picked my pocket?
HOSTESS     Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John,
do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have	55
searched, I have enquired, so has my husband, man by
man, boy by boy, servant by servant – the tithe of a
hair was never lost in my house before.
FALSTAFF     Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved and lost
many a hair, and I’ll be sworn my pocket was picked:	60
go to, you are a woman, go.
HOSTESS     Who, I? No, I defy thee: God’s light, I was
never called so in mine own house before.
FALSTAFF     Go to, I know you well enough.
HOSTESS     No, Sir John, you do not know me, Sir John, I	65
know you, Sir John, you owe me money, Sir John, and
now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I bought
you a dozen of shirts to your back.
FALSTAFF     Dowlas, filthy dowlas. I have given them
away to bakers’ wives; they have made bolters of them.	70
HOSTESS     Now as I am a true woman, holland of eight
shillings an ell! You owe money here besides, Sir John,
for your diet, and by-drinkings, and money lent you,
four and twenty pound.
FALSTAFF     He had his part of it, let him pay.	75
HOSTESS     He? Alas, he is poor, he hath nothing.
FALSTAFF     How? Poor? Look upon his face. What call
you rich? Let them coin his nose, let them coin his
cheeks, I’ll not pay a denier. What, will you make a
younker of me? Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn	80
but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-
ring of my grandfather’s worth forty mark.
HOSTESS     O Jesu, I have heard the Prince tell him, I
know not how oft, that that ring was copper.
FALSTAFF     How? the Prince is a Jack, a sneak-up.	85
‘Sblood, and he were here I would cudgel him like a
dog if he would say so.
Enter the PRINCE marching, with PETO, and FALSTAFF meets him, playing upon his truncheon like a fife.
How now, lad? Is the wind in that door, i’faith, must
we all march?
BARDOLPH     Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.	90
HOSTESS     My lord, I pray you hear me.
PRINCE     What say’st thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth
thy husband? I love him well, he is an honest man.
HOSTESS     Good my lord, hear me.
FALSTAFF     Prithee let her alone, and list to me.	95
PRINCE     What say’st thou, Jack?
FALSTAFF     The other night I fell asleep here, behind the
arras, and had my pocket picked: this house is turned
bawdy-house, they pick pockets.
PRINCE     What didst thou lose, Jack?	100
FALSTAFF     Wilt thou believe me, Hal, three or four
bonds of forty pound apiece, and a seal-ring of my
grandfather’s.
PRINCE     A trifle, some eightpenny matter.
HOSTESS     So I told him, my lord, and I said I heard your	105
Grace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of
you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is, and said he
would cudgel you.
PRINCE     What! he did not?
HOSTESS     There’s neither faith, truth, nor womanhood	110
in me else.
FALSTAFF     There’s no more faith in thee than in a
stewed prune, nor no more truth in thee than in a
drawn fox – and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be
the deputy’s wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing,	115
go!
HOSTESS     Say, what thing, what thing?
FALSTAFF     What thing? Why, a thing to thank God on.
HOSTESS     I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou
shouldst know it, I am an honest man’s wife, and	120
setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call
me so.
FALSTAFF     Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a
beast to say otherwise.
HOSTESS     Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?	125
FALSTAFF     What beast? Why, an otter.
PRINCE     An otter, Sir John? Why an otter?
FALSTAFF     Why? She’s neither fish nor flesh, a man
knows not where to have her.
HOSTESS     Thou art an unjust man in saying so, thou or	130
any man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou.
PRINCE     Thou say’st true, hostess, and he slanders thee
most grossly.
HOSTESS     So he doth you, my lord, and said this other
day you ought him a thousand pound.	135
PRINCE     Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?
FALSTAFF     A thousand pound, Hal? A million, thy love
is worth a million, thou owest me thy love.
HOSTESS     Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he
would cudgel you.	140
FALSTAFF     Did I, Bardolph?
BARDOLPH     Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
FALSTAFF     Yea, if he said my ring was copper.
PRINCE     I say ’tis copper, darest thou be as good as thy
word now?	145
FALSTAFF     Why, Hal, thou knowest as thou art but man
I dare, but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear the
roaring of the lion’s whelp.
PRINCE     And why not as the lion?
FALSTAFF     The King himself is to be feared as the lion:	150
dost thou think I’ll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay,
and I do, I pray God my girdle break.
PRINCE     O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about
thy knees! But sirrah, there’s no room for faith, truth,
nor honesty in this bosom of thine; it is all filled up	155
with guts and midriff. Charge an honest woman with
picking thy pocket? Why, thou whoreson impudent
embossed rascal, if there were anything in thy pocket
but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-
houses, and one poor pennyworth of sugar-candy to	160
make thee long-winded, if thy pocket were enriched
with any other injuries but these, I am a villain: and yet
you will stand to it, you will not pocket up wrong! Art
thou not ashamed?
FALSTAFF     Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the	165
state of innocency Adam fell, and what should poor
Jack Falstaff do in the days of villainy? Thou seest I
have more flesh than another man, and therefore more
frailty. You confess then, you picked my pocket?
PRINCE     It appears so by the story.	170
FALSTAFF     Hostess, I forgive thee, go make ready
breakfast, love thy husband, look to thy servants,
cherish thy guests, thou shalt find me tractable to any
honest reason, thou seest I am pacified still, nay
prithee be gone.     Exit Hostess.	175
Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,
how is that answered?
PRINCE     O my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to
thee – the money is paid back again.
FALSTAFF     O, I do not like that paying back, ’tis a double	180
labour.
PRINCE     I am good friends with my father and may do
anything.
FALSTAFF     Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou
dost, and do it with unwashed hands too.	185
BARDOLPH     Do, my lord.
PRINCE     I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.
FALSTAFF     I would it had been of horse. Where shall I
find one that can steal well? O for a fine thief of the age
of two and twenty or thereabouts: I am heinously	190
unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels,
they offend none but the virtuous; I laud them, I
praise them.
PRINCE     Bardolph!
BARDOLPH     My Lord?	195
PRINCE     Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster,
To my brother John, this to my Lord of
Westmoreland.     Exit Bardolph.
Go, Peto, to horse, to horse, for thou and I
Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner-time.
Exit Peto.
Jack, meet me tomorrow in the Temple hall	200
At two o’clock in the afternoon:
There shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive
Money and order for their furniture.
The land is burning, Percy stands on high,
And either we or they must lower lie.     Exit.	205
FALSTAFF
Rare words! Brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come!
O, I could wish this tavern were my drum.     Exit.

4.1 Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER and DOUGLAS.

HOTSPUR     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.	5
By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy
The tongues of soothers, but a braver place
In my heart’s love hath no man than yourself:
Nay, task me to my word, approve me, lord.
DOUGLAS     Thou art the king of honour:	10
No man so potent breathes upon the ground
But I will beard him.
HOTSPUR     Do so, and ’tis well.
Enter a Messenger, with letters.
What letters hast thou there? – I can but thank you.
MESSENGER     These letters come from your father.
HOTSPUR
Letters from him? Why comes he not himself?	15
MESSENGER
He cannot come, my lord, he is grievous sick.
HOTSPUR     ‘Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick
In such a justling time? Who leads his power?
Under whose government come they along?
MESSENGER     His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.	20
WORCESTER     I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?
MESSENGER     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.
WORCESTER
I would the state of time had first been whole	25
Ere he by sickness had been visited:
His health was never better worth than now.
HOTSPUR
Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect
The very life-blood of our enterprise;
’Tis catching hither, even to our camp.	30
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.	35
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement
That with our small conjunction we should on,
To see how fortune is dispos’d to us;
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,
Because the King is certainly possess’d	40
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
WORCESTER     Your father’s sickness is a maim to us.
HOTSPUR     A perilous gash, a very limb lopp’d off –
And yet, in faith, it is not! His present want
Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good	45
To set the exact wealth of all our states
All at one cast? to set so rich a main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good, for therein should we read
The very bottom and the soul of hope,	50
The very list, the very utmost bound
Of all our fortunes.
DOUGLAS     Faith, and so we should, where now remains
A sweet reversion – we may boldly spend
Upon the hope of what is to come in.	55
A comfort of retirement lives in this.
HOTSPUR     A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,
If that the devil and mischance look big
Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.
WORCESTER
But yet I would your father had been here:	60
The quality and hair of our attempt
Brooks no division; it will be thought,
By some that know not why he is away,
That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike
Of our proceedings kept the Earl from hence;	65
And think how such an apprehension
May turn the tide of fearful faction,
And breed a kind of question in our cause:
For well you know we of the off ‘ring side
Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,	70
And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence
The eye of reason may pry in upon us:
This absence of your father’s draws a curtain
That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt of.
HOTSPUR     You strain too far.	75
I rather of his absence make this use:
It lends a lustre and more great opinion,
A larger dare to our great enterprise,
Than if the Earl were here; for men must think
If we without his help can make a head	80
To push against a kingdom, with his help
We shall o’erturn it topsy-turvy down.
Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.
DOUGLAS     As heart can think: there is not such a word
Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.	85
Enter SIR RICHARD VERNON.
HOTSPUR     My cousin Vernon! Welcome, by my soul!
VERNON     Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
The Earl of Westmoreland seven thousand strong
Is marching hitherwards, with him Prince John.
HOTSPUR     No harm, what more?
VERNON     And further, I have learn’d,	90
The King himself in person is set forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,
With strong and mighty preparation.
HOTSPUR     He shall be welcome too: where is his son,
The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,	95
And his comrades that daft the world aside
And bid it pass?
VERNON     All furnish’d, all in arms;
All plum’d like estridges that with the wind
Bated, like eagles having lately bath’d,
Glittering in golden coats like images,	100
As full of spirit as the month of May,
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry with his beaver on,
His cushes on his thighs, gallantly arm’d,	105
Rise from the ground like feather’d Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat
As if an angel dropp’d down from the clouds
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.	110
HOTSPUR
No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March,
This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come!
They come like sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-ey’d maid of smoky war
All hot and bleeding will we offer them:	115
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,
And yet not ours! Come, let me taste my horse,
Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt	120
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!
VERNON     There is more news:
I learn’d in Worcester as I rode along	125
He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
DOUGLAS     That’s the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
WORCESTER     Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
HOTSPUR
What may the King’s whole battle reach unto?
VERNON     To thirty thousand.
HOTSPUR     Forty let it be:	130
My father and Glendower being both away,
The powers of us may serve so great a day.
Come, let us take a muster speedily –
Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.
DOUGLAS     Talk not of dying, I am out of fear	135
Of death or death’s hand for this one half year.
Exeunt.

4.2 Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.

FALSTAFF     Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me
a bottle of sack. Our soldiers shall march through;
we’ll to Sutton Co’fil’ tonight.
BARDOLPH     Will you give me money, captain?
FALSTAFF     Lay out, lay out.	5
BARDOLPH     This bottle makes an angel.
FALSTAFF     And 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 town’s end.
BARDOLPH     I will, captain: farewell.     Exit.	10
FALSTAFF     If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a
soused 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, yeomen’s sons,	15
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 a 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-	20
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	25
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-	30
ragged than an old fazed ancient; and such have I to
fill up the rooms of them as 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	35
met me on the way, and told me I had unloaded all the
gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen
such scarecrows. 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	40
had the most of them out of prison. There’s not 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	45
Albans, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. But
that’s all one, they’ll find linen enough on every hedge.
Enter the PRINCE and the LORD OF WESTMORELAND.
PRINCE     How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt?
FALSTAFF     What, Hal! How now, mad wag? What a devil
dost thou in Warwickshire? My good Lord of	50
Westmoreland, I cry you mercy, I thought your
honour had already been at Shrewsbury.
WESTMORELAND Faith, Sir John, ’tis more than time
that I were there, and you too, but my powers are there
already; the King I can tell you looks for us all, we	55
must away all night.
FALSTAFF     Tut, never fear me, I am as vigilant as a cat to
steal cream.
PRINCE     I think, to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath
already made thee butter; but tell me, Jack, whose	60
fellows are these that come after?
FALSTAFF     Mine, Hal, mine.
PRINCE     I did never see such pitiful rascals.
FALSTAFF     Tut, tut, good enough to toss, food for
powder, food for powder, they’ll fill a pit as well as	65
better; tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
WESTMORELAND Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are
exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly.
FALSTAFF     Faith, for their poverty I know not where
they had that; and for their bareness I am sure they	70
never learned that of me.
PRINCE     No, I’ll be sworn, unless you call three fingers
in the ribs bare. But sirrah, make haste; Percy is
already in the field.     Exit.
FALSTAFF     What, is the King encamped?	75
WESTMORELAND He is, Sir John, I fear we shall stay too
long.     Exit.
FALSTAFF     Well,
To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast
Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.     Exit.	80

4.3 Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, VERNON.

HOTSPUR     We’ll fight with him tonight.
WORCESTER     It may not be.
DOUGLAS     You give him then advantage.
VERNON     Not a whit.
HOTSPUR     Why say you so, looks he not for supply?
VERNON     So do we.
HOTSPUR     His is certain, ours is doubtful.
WORCESTER     Good cousin, be advis’d, stir not tonight.	5
VERNON     Do not, my lord.
DOUGLAS     You do not counsel well.
You speak it out of fear and cold heart.
VERNON     Do me no slander, Douglas; by my life,
And I dare well maintain it with my life,
If well-respected honour bid me on,	10
I hold as little counsel with weak fear
As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives;
Let it be seen tomorrow in the battle
Which of us fears.
DOUGLAS     Yea, or tonight.
VERNON     Content.
HOTSPUR     Tonight, say I.	15
VERNON     Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,
Being men of such great leading as you are,
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition: certain horse
Of my cousin Vernon’s are not yet come up,	20
Your uncle Worcester’s horse came but today,
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horse is half the half himself.
HOTSPUR     So are the horses of the enemy	25
In general journey-bated and brought low.
The better part of ours are full of rest.
WORCESTER     The number of the King exceedeth ours:
For God’s sake, cousin, stay till all come in.
[The trumpet sounds a parley.]
Enter SIR WALTER BLUNT.
BLUNT     I come with gracious offers from the King,	30
If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.
HOTSPUR
Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt: and would to God
You were of our determination!
Some of us love you well, and even those some
Envy your great deservings and good name,	35
Because you are not of our quality,
But stand against us like an enemy.
BLUNT     And God defend but still I should stand so,
So long as out of limit and true rule
You stand against anointed majesty.	40
But to my charge. The King hath sent to know
The nature of your griefs, and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
Audacious cruelty. If that the King	45
Have any way your good deserts forgot,
Which he confesseth to be manifold,
He bids you name your griefs, and with all speed
You shall have your desires with interest
And pardon absolute for yourself, and these	50
Herein misled by your suggestion.
HOTSPUR
The King is kind, and well we know the King
Knows at what time to promise, when to pay:
My father, and my uncle, and myself
Did give him that same royalty he wears,	55
And when he was not six and twenty strong,
Sick in the world’s regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,
My father gave him welcome to the shore:
And when he heard him swear and vow to God	60
He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
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.	65
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,	70
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	75
Made to my father while his blood was poor
Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh;
And now forsooth takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts and some strait decrees
That lie too heavy on the commonwealth;	80
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	85
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.
HOTSPUR     Then to the point.
In short time after he depos’d the King,	90
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 engag’d in Wales,	95
There without ransom to lie forfeited;
Disgrac’d me in my happy victories,
Sought to entrap me by intelligence,
Rated mine uncle from the Council-board,
In rage dismiss’d my father from the court,	100
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
Too indirect for long continuance.	105
BLUNT     Shall I return this answer to the King?
HOTSPUR     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	110
Bring him our purposes – and so, farewell.
BLUNT     I would you would accept of grace and love.
HOTSPUR     And may be so we shall.
BLUNT     Pray God you do.
Exeunt.

4.4 Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK and SIR MICHAEL.

ARCHBISHOP
Hie, good Sir Michael, bear this sealed brief
With winged haste to the lord marshal,
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.	5
SIR MICHAEL     My good lord,
I guess their tenor.
ARCHBISHOP     Like enough you do.
Tomorrow, good Sir Michael, is a day
Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
Must bide the touch; for, sir, at Shrewsbury,	10
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,	15
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.	20
SIR MICHAEL     Why, my good lord, you need not fear,
There is Douglas, and Lord Mortimer.
ARCHBISHOP     No, Mortimer is not there.
SIR MICHAEL
But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,
And there is my Lord of Worcester, and a head	25
Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.
ARCHBISHOP
And so there is: but yet the King hath drawn
The special head of all the land together:
The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt,	30
And many mo corrivals and dear men
Of estimation and command in arms.
SIR MICHAEL
Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well oppos’d.
ARCHBISHOP     I hope no less, yet needful ’tis to fear;
And to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed.	35
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	40
To other friends; and so, farewell, Sir Michael.
Exeunt.

5.1 Enter the KING, PRINCE OF WALES, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, SIR WALTER BLUNT, FALSTAFF.

KING     How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above yon bulky hill! The day looks pale
At his distemp’rature.
PRINCE     The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
And by his hollow whistling in the leaves	5
Foretells a tempest and a blust’ring day.
KING     Then with the losers let it sympathise,
For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
[The trumpet sounds.]
Enter WORCESTER and VERNON.
How now, my Lord of Worcester! ’tis not well
That you and I should meet upon such terms	10
As now we meet. You have deceiv’d our trust,
And made us doff our easy 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 it? Will you again unknit	15
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	20
Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
WORCESTER     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 protest	25
I have not sought the day of this dislike.
KING     You have not sought it? How comes it, then?
FALSTAFF     Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
PRINCE     Peace, chewet, peace!
WORCESTER     It pleas’d your Majesty to turn your looks	30
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	35
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	40
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.	45
To this we swore our aid: but in short space
It rain’d down fortune show’ring 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,	50
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	55
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	60
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	65
Out of your sight, and raise this present head,
Whereby we stand opposed by such means
As you yourself have forg’d against yourself,
By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth	70
Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.
KING     These things indeed you have articulate,
Proclaim’d at market crosses, read in churches,
To face the garment of rebellion
With some fine colour that may please the eye	75
Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,
Which gape and rub the elbow at the news
Of hurlyburly innovation;
And never yet did insurrection want
Such water-colours to impaint his cause,	80
Nor moody beggars starving for a time
Of pellmell havoc and confusion.
PRINCE     In both your armies there is many a soul
Shall pay full dearly for this encounter
If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,	85
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,	90
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;	95
Yet this before my father’s majesty –
I am content that he shall take the odds
Of his great name and estimation,
And will, to save the blood on either side,
Try fortune with him in a single fight.	100
KING
And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture 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,	105
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,	110
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.
Exit Worcester, with Vernon.
PRINCE     It will not be accepted, on my life;	115
The Douglas and the Hotspur both together
Are confident against the world in arms.
KING     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!	120
Exeunt all but the Prince and Falstaff.
FALSTAFF     Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and
bestride me, so; ’Tis a point of friendship.
PRINCE     Nothing but a Colossus can do thee that
friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell.
FALSTAFF     I would ’twere bed-time, Hal, and all well.	125
PRINCE     Why, thou owest God a death.     Exit.
FALSTAFF     ’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	130
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?	135
He that died a-Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth
he hear it? No. ’Tis 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	140
catechism.     Exit.

5.2 Enter WORCESTER and SIR RICHARD VERNON.

WORCESTER
O no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
The liberal and kind offer of the King.
VERNON     ’Twere best he did.
WORCESTER     Then are we all undone.
It is not possible, it cannot be,
The King should keep his word in loving us;	5
He will suspect us still, and find a time
To punish this offence in other faults:
Supposition all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes,
For treason is but trusted like the fox,
Who, never so tame, so cherish’d and lock’d up,	10
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.	15
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 hare-brain’d Hotspur, govern’d by a spleen:
All his offences live upon my head	20
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.	25
VERNON     Deliver what you will; I’ll say ’tis so.
Here comes your cousin.
Enter HOTSPUR and DOUGLAS.
HOTSPUR     My uncle is return’d;
Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.
Uncle, what news?
WORCESTER     The King will bid you battle presently.	30
DOUGLAS     Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland.
HOTSPUR     Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.
DOUGLAS     Marry, and shall, and very willingly.     Exit.
WORCESTER     There is no seeming mercy in the King.
HOTSPUR     Did you beg any? God forbid!	35
WORCESTER     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.	40
Re-enter DOUGLAS.
DOUGLAS     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.
WORCESTER
The Prince of Wales stepp’d forth before the King,	45
And, nephew, challeng’d you to single fight.
HOTSPUR     O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
And that no man might draw short breath today
But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
How show’d his tasking? Seem’d it in contempt?	50
VERNON     No, by my soul, I never in my life
Did hear a challenge urg’d more modestly,
Unless a brother should a brother dare
To gentle exercise and proof of arms.
He gave you all the duties of a man,	55
Trimm’d up your praises with a princely tongue,
Spoke your deservings like a chronicle,
Making you ever better than his praise
By still dispraising praise valu’d with you,
And, which became him like a prince indeed,	60
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 –	65
If he outlive the envy of this day,
England did never owe so sweet a hope
So much misconstru’d in his wantonness.
HOTSPUR     Cousin, I think thou art enamoured
On his follies: never did I hear	70
Of any prince so wild a liberty.
But be he as he will, yet once ere night
I will embrace him with a soldier’s arm,
That he shall shrink under my courtesy.
Arm, arm with speed! And fellows, soldiers, friends,	75
Better consider what you have to do
Than I that have not well the gift of tongue
Can lift your blood up with persuasion.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER     My lord, here are letters for you.
HOTSPUR     I cannot read them now.	80
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.
And if we live, we live to tread on kings,	85
If die, brave death when princes die with us!
Now, for our consciences, the arms are fair
When the intent of bearing them is just.
Enter another Messenger.
MESSENGER
My lord, prepare, the King comes on apace.
HOTSPUR     I thank him that he cuts me from my tale,	90
For I profess not talking: only this –
Let 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.	95
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.	100
Here they embrace, the trumpets sound, exeunt.

5.3 The KING enters with his power. Alarum to the battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and SIR WALTER BLUNT, disguised as the King.

BLUNT     What is thy name that in the battle thus
Thou crossest me? What honour dost thou seek
Upon my head?
DOUGLAS     Know then my name is Douglas,
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
Because some tell me that thou art a king.	5
BLUNT     They tell thee true.
DOUGLAS
The Lord of Stafford dear today 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.	10
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. Douglas kills Blunt.]
Then enter HOTSPUR.
HOTSPUR
O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus
I never had triumph’d upon a Scot.	15
DOUGLAS
All’s done, all’s won: here breathless lies the King.
HOTSPUR     Where?
DOUGLAS     Here.
HOTSPUR
This, Douglas? No, I know this face full well,
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt,	20
Semblably furnish’d like the King himself.
DOUGLAS     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?
HOTSPUR     The King hath many marching in his coats.	25
DOUGLAS     Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
I’ll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the King.
HOTSPUR     Up and away!
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.     Exeunt.
Alarum. Enter FALSTAFF alone.
FALSTAFF     Though I could scape shot-free at London, I	30
fear the shot here, here’s no scoring but upon the pate.
Soft! who are you? 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 bowels. I have led my	35
ragamuffins where they are peppered; there’s not
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 the PRINCE.
PRINCE
What, stands thou idle here? Lend me thy sword:	40
Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
whose deaths are yet unrevenged. I prithee lend me
thy sword.
FALSTAFF     O Hal, I prithee give me leave to breathe	45
awhile – Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms
as I have done this day; I have paid Percy, I have made
him sure.
PRINCE     He is indeed, and living to kill thee:
I prithee lend me thy sword.	50
FALSTAFF     Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive thou
gets not my sword, but take my pistol if thou wilt.
PRINCE     Give it me: what, is it in the case?
FALSTAFF     Ay, Hal, ’tis hot, ’tis hot; there’s that will sack
a city. [The Prince draws it out, and finds it to be a bottle	55
of sack.]
PRINCE     What, is it a time to jest and dally now? [He
throws the bottle at him.]     Exit.
FALSTAFF     Well, if Percy be alive, I’ll pierce him. If he
do come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come in his
willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like not
such grinning honour as Sir Walter hath. Give me life,	60
which if I can save, so: if not, honour comes unlooked
for, and there’s an end.     Exit.

5.4 Alarum. Excursions. Enter the KING, the PRINCE, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND.

KING
I prithee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleed’st too much.
Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.
LANCASTER     Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
PRINCE     I beseech your Majesty, make up,
Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.	5
KING     I will do so. My Lord of Westmoreland,
Lead him to his tent.
WESTMORELAND
Come, my lord, I’ll lead you to your tent.
PRINCE     Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help,
And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive	10
The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
Where stain’d nobility lies trodden on,
And rebels’ arms triumph in massacres!
LANCASTER
We breathe too long: come, cousin Westmoreland,
Our duty this way lies: for God’s sake, come.	15
Exeunt Lancaster and Westmoreland.
PRINCE     By God, 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.
KING     I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point	20
With lustier maintenance than I did look for
Of such an ungrown warrior.
PRINCE     O, this boy
Lends mettle to us all!     Exit.
Enter DOUGLAS.
DOUGLAS
Another king! They grow like Hydra’s heads:
I am the Douglas, fatal to all those	25
That wear those colours on them. What art thou
That counterfeit’st the person of a king?
KING
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	30
Seek Percy and thyself about the field,
But seeing thou fall’st on me so luckily
I will assay thee, and defend thyself.
DOUGLAS     I fear thou art another counterfeit,
And yet, in faith, thou bearest thee like a king;	35
But mine I am sure thou art, whoe’er thou be,
And thus I win thee.
[They fight, the King being in danger.]
Re-enter PRINCE.
PRINCE     Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
Never to hold it up again! The spirits
Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt are in my arms.	40
It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
[They fight.]     Douglas flieth.
Cheerly, my lord, how fares your grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton – I’ll to Clifton straight.	45
KING     Stay and breathe a while:
Thou hast redeem’d thy lost opinion,
And show’d thou mak’st some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
PRINCE     O God, they did me too much injury	50
That ever said I hearken’d for your death.
If it were so, I might have let alone
The insulting hand of Douglas over you,
Which would have been as speedy in your end
As all the poisonous potions in the world,	55
And sav’d the treacherous labour of your son.
KING
Make up to Clifton, I’ll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.
Exit.
Enter HOTSPUR.
HOTSPUR     If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
PRINCE     Thou speak’st as if I would deny my name.
HOTSPUR     My name is Harry Percy.
PRINCE     Why then I see	60
A very valiant rebel of the name.
I am the Prince of Wales, and think not, Percy,
To share with me in glory any more:
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere,
Nor can one England brook a double reign	65
Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.
HOTSPUR     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!
PRINCE     I’ll make it greater ere I part from thee,	70
And all the budding honours on thy crest
I’ll crop to make a garland for my head.
HOTSPUR     I can no longer brook thy vanities.
[They fight.]
Enter FALSTAFF.
FALSTAFF     Well said, Hal! To it, Hal! Nay, you shall find
no boy’s play here, I can tell you.	75
Re-enter DOUGLAS; he fighteth with Falstaff,
who falls down as if he were dead. Exit Douglas. The Prince mortally wounds Hotspur.
HOTSPUR     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 thoughts, the slaves of life, and life, time’s fool,	80
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.]	85
PRINCE
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	90
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 favours hide thy mangled face,	95
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!	100
[He spieth 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:	105
Death hath not struck so fat a deer today,
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.
[Falstaff riseth up.]
FALSTAFF     Embowelled? If thou embowel me today, I’ll	110
give you leave to powder me and eat me too tomorrow.
‘Sblood, ’twas time to counterfeit, or that hot
termagant Scot had paid me, scot and lot too.
Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die is to be a
counterfeit, for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who	115
hath not the 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	120
gunpowder Percy, though he be dead; how if he should
counterfeit too and rise? By my faith, I am afraid he
would prove the better counterfeit; 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	125
nobody sees me: therefore, sirrah [stabbing him], with
a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.
[He takes up Hotspur on his back.]
Re-enter PRINCE and LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER.
PRINCE
Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesh’d
Thy maiden sword.
LANCASTER     But soft, whom have we here?
Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?	130
PRINCE
I did, I saw him dead,
Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art thou alive?
Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?
I prithee speak, we will not trust our eyes
Without our ears: thou art not what thou seem’st.	135
FALSTAFF     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	140
you.
PRINCE     Why, Percy I kill’d myself, and saw thee dead.
FALSTAFF     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,	145
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, ‘zounds, I	150
would make him eat a piece of my sword.
LANCASTER     This is the strangest tale that ever I heard.
PRINCE     This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back.
[aside to Falstaff] 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 us to the highest of the field,
To see what friends are living, who are dead.
Exeunt Prince of Wales and Lancaster.
FALSTAFF     I’ll follow, as they say, for reward. He that	160
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.

5.5 The trumpets sound. Enter the KING, PRINCE, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, with WORCESTER and VERNON prisoners.

KING     Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.
Ill-spirited Worcester, did not we send grace,
Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?
And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary?
Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman’s trust?	5
Three knights upon our party slain today,
A noble earl and many a creature else,
Had been alive this hour,
If like a Christian thou hadst truly borne
Betwixt our armies true intelligence.	10
WORCESTER     What I have done my safety urg’d me to;
And I embrace this fortune patiently,
Since not to be avoided it falls on me.
KING     Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too:
Other offenders we will pause upon.	15
Exeunt Worcester and Vernon, guarded.
How goes the field?
PRINCE     The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw
The fortune of the day quite turn’d from him,
The noble Percy slain, and all his men
Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest,	20
And falling from a hill, he was so bruis’d
That the pursuers took him. At my tent
The Douglas is; and I beseech your Grace
I may dispose of him.
KING     With all my heart.
PRINCE     Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you	25
This honourable bounty shall belong;
Go to the Douglas and deliver him
Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free:
His valours shown upon our crests today
Have taught us how to cherish such high deeds,	30
Even in the bosom of our adversaries.
LANCASTER     I thank your Grace for this high courtesy,
Which I shall give away immediately.
KING     Then this remains, that we divide our power:
You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland,	35
Towards York shall bend you with your dearest speed
To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop,
Who, as we hear, are busily in arms:
Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales,
To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.	40
Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway,
Meeting the check of such another day,
And since this business so fair is done,
Let us not leave till all our own be won.     Exeunt.