This musick mads me, let it sound no more; Groom. Hail, royal prince! With much ado, at length have gotten leave K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; This hand hath made him proud with clapping him. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down (Since pride must have a fall), and break the neck Of that proud man that did usurp his back? Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to? pains; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to Enter PERCY, with the Bishop of CARLISLE. With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy, room, More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life; So, as thou livest in peace, die free from strife: For though mine enemy thou hast ever been, High sparks of honour in thee have I seen. Enter EXTON, with Attendants bearing a Coffin. Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present Keep. My lord, I dare not: Sir Pierce of Ex-Thy buried fear; herein all breathless lies ton, who [trary. The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, Lately came from the king, commands the con- Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, Boling. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou and thee! hast wrought Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. Keep. Help, help, help! Enter EXTON, and Servants, armed. K. Rich. How now? what means death in this rude assault? Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument. [Snatching a weapon and killing one. Go thou, and fill another room in hell. [He kills another, and then EXTON strikes [need, A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand, Upon my head, and all this famous land. Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed. Boling. They love not poison that do poison Nor do I thee; though I did wish him dead, I hate the murderer, love him murdered The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour, But neither my good word, nor princely favour: With Cain go wander through the shade of night, And never show thy head by day nor light.That hand shall burn iu never quenching fire, Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe, That staggers thus my person.-Exton, thy That blood should sprinkle me, to make me grow. fierce hand [own land. Come, mourn with me for what I do lament, Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's And put on sullen black incontinent: Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high; I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land, Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward here To wash this blood from off my guilty hand:to die. [Dies. March sadly after; grace my mournings here, Exton. As full of valour, as of royal blood: In weeping after this untimely bier. [Exeunt. him down. HENRY, Prince of Wales, Prince JOHN of Lancaster. S Persons Represented. Sons to the King. SIR RICHARD VERNON. Earl of WESTMORELAND, Friends to the King LADY PERCY, Wife to Hotspur, and Sister to SIR WALTER BLUNT, THOMAS PERCY, Earl of Worcester. HENRY PERCY, Earl of Northumberland. HENRY PERCY, surnamed HOTSPUR, his Son. EDWARD MORTIMER, Earl of March. SCROOP, Archbishop of York. SIR MICHAEL, a Friend of the Archbishop. ARCHIBALD, Earl of Douglas. OWEN GLENDOWER. Art First. Mortimer. LADY MORTIMER, Daughter to Glendower, and Wife to Mortimer. MRS. QUICKLY, Hostess of a Tavern in Eastcheap. Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers, two Carriers, Travellers and Attendants. SCENE-England. SCENE I. London. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY, WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and Others. K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, No more shall trenching war channel her fields, We are impressed and engag'd to fight), To chase these pagans, in those holy fields, West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, K. Hen. It seems then, that the tidings of this Brake off our business for the Holy Land. For more uneven and unwelcome news Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour; And shape of likelihood, the news was told; [friend, [news. Balk'd in their own blood, did Sir Walter see It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. What the devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffata; I see no reason why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. Ful. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phoebus,-he, that wandering knight so fuir. And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king,--as, God save thy grace (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none), P. Hen. What, none? Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us be-Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government: being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we-steal. P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too; for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As, for K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely mak'st me sin In envy that my lord Northumberland Of my young Harry. Oh, that it could be prov'd, Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners. Malevolent to you in all aspects; K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this: Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we SCENE II. [Exeunt. The same. Another Room in the Palace. Enter HENEY, Prince of Wales, and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearinglay by; and spent with crying-bring in: now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin, a most sweet robe of durance? Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin? P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, many a time and oft. P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and where it would not, I have used my credit. Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But, I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antick the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. P. Hen. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman, [brave judge. Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort of jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you. A A P. Hen. For obtaining of suits? Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits: whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat, or a lugged bear. P. Hon. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. P. Hen. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes: and art, indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince,-But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought: An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir; but I marked him not and yet he talk'd very wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talk'd wisely, and in the street too. P. Hen. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. good fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of P. Hen. Well, then once in my days I'll be a [home. P. Hen. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when P. Hen. I care not. [thou art king. Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go. Fal. Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persuasion, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be believed, that the true prince may (for recreation sake) prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. P. Hen. Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell, All-hallown summer! [Exit FALSTAFF. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jest to execnte, Fal. O thou hast damnable iteration; and art, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that much harm upon me, Hal,-God forgive thee we have already way-laid; yourself and I will for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew no-not be there: and when they have the booty, if thing; and now am I, if a man should speak you and I do not rob them, cut this head from truly, little better than one of the wicked. Imy shoulders. [setting forth? must give over this life, and I will give it over; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom. P. Hen. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack? Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me. P. Hen. I see a good amendment of life in thee: from praying, to purse-taking. Enter POINS, at a distance. Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins! -Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain, that ever cried, Stand, to a true man, P. Hen. Good morrow, Ned. P. Hen. But how shall we part with them in Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. P. Hen. Ay, but, 'tis like, that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. [for us. P. Hen. But, I doubt they will be too hard Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; Poins, Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John Sack-reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of this and-Sugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good-same fat rogue will tell us, when we meet at friday last, for a cup of Madeira, and a cold capon's leg? P. Hen. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs,hewill give the devil his due. Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. [the devil. P. Hen. Else he had been damned for cozening Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gadshill: There are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: I have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves; Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester; I have bespoke supper tomorrow night in Eastcheap; we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; If you will not, tarry at home, and be hanged. Fal. Hear me, Yedward; if I tarry at home, Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? [faith. supper; how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and, in the reproof of this, lies the jest. P. Hen. Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap, there I'll sup. Farewell. Poins Farewell, my lord. [Exit PoINS. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while up- And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, The same. Another Room in the Palace. And therefore lost that title of respect, The scourge of greatness to be used on it; North. My lord K. Hen. Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see Danger and disobedience in thine eye: O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, And majesty might never yet endure The moody frontier of a servant-brow. You have good leave to leave us; when we need Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. [Exit WORCESTER. [To NORTH. Yea, my good lord. highness' name de You were about to speak. Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners. And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, mark!) And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth lord, K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners: But with proviso, and exception,- [straight That we, at our own charge, shall ransom His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer; Who, ou my soul, hath wilfully betray'd The lives of those that he did lead to fight Against the great magician, damn'd Glendower, Whose daughter, as we hear, the earl of March Hath lately married. Shall our coffers then Be emptied, to redeem a traitor home? Shall we buy treason? and indent with fears, When they have lost and forfeited themselves? No, on the barren mountains let him starve; For I shall never hold that man my friend, Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost To ransom home revolted Mortimer." Hot. Revolted Mortimer! He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, ut by the chance of war;-To prove that true, Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, [took, He did confound the best part of an hour He never did encounter with Glendower; He durst as well have met the devil alone, Or you shall hear in such a kind from me We license your departure with your son :Send us your prisoners, or you'll hear of it. [Exeunt KING HENRY, BLUNT, and Train. Hot. And if the devil come and roar for them, |