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make twenty, take them all, I'll answer the coin- |To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a age. Bid my lieutenant Peto meet me at the town's end.
Bard. I will, captain: farewell.
[Exit. Fal. If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a 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: inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked twice on the bans; such a commodity of warm slaves, as had as lief hear the devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a caliver, worse than a stuck fowl, or a hurt wild-duck. pressed me none but such toasts and butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out their services; and now my whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores: and such as, indeed, were never soldiers; but discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers of a calm world, and a long peace; ten times more dishonourable ragged than an old-faced ancient: and such have I, to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their services, that you would think, that I had a hundred and fifty tattered prodigals, lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me, II had unloaded all the gibbets, and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scare-crows. 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 had the most of them out of prison. There's but 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 Alban's, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daintry. But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.
Enter PRINCE HENRY and WESTMORELAND. P. Hen. How now, blown Jack? how now, quilt?
Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag! what a devil dost thou in Warwickshire?-My good lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy; thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.
West. '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 must away all night.
Fal. Tut, never fear me: I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
P. Hen. I think, to steal cream indeed; for thy theft hath already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack; whose fellows are these that come after?
Fal. Mine, Hal, mine.
P. Hen. I did never see such pitiful rascals. Fal. Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit, as well as better: tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest. [Exeunt.
Hot. We'll fight with him to-night.
West. Ay, but, sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare; too beggarly.
Fal. Faith, for their poverty,-I know not where they had that: and for their bareness,-I am sure, they never learned that of me.
P. Hen. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs, bare. But, sirrah, make haste: Percy is already in the field,
Fal. What, is the king encamped?
You do not counsel well;
Hot. So are the horses of the enemy
Wor. 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,
Hot. Welcome, sir Walter Blunt; And 'would
Blunt. And God defend, but still I should stand so,
Hot. The king is kind; and, well we know, the
Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
He came but to be duke of Lancaster,
Into his title, the which we find
Too indirect for long continuance.
Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the king? 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 Hot. And, may be, so we shall. Blunt.
'Pray heaven, you do! [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-York. A Room in the Archbishop's
House. Enter the Archbishop of YORK, and a Gentleman. Arch. Hie, good sir Michael; bear this sealed brief,
With winged haste, to the lord mareschal;
Like enough, you do. To-morrow, good sir Michael, is a day, Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men 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,)
The special head of all the land together;-
Gent. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well oppos'd.
Arch. I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear; And, to prevent the worst, sir Michael, speed For, if lord Percy thrive not, ere the king Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,-For he hath heard of our confederacy,— And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him; Therefore, make haste: I must go write again To other friends; and so farewell, sir Michael. [Exeunt severally.
(Trumpet.) Enter WORCESTER and VERNON.
Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
For mine own part, I could be well content
K. Hen. You have not sought for it! how comes it then?
Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it. P. Hen. Peace, chewet, peace.
Wor. It pleas'd your majesty to turn your looks Of favour, from myself, and all our house; And yet I must remember you, my lord, We were the first and dearest of your friends. For you, my staff of oflice 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
Proclaim'd at market-crosses, read in churches;
And never yet did insurrection want
P. Hen. In both our armies, there is many a soul
K. Hen. And, prince of Wales, so dare we venAlbeit, considerations infinite [turn thee, 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:
[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. [Exit. 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 that honour? Air. A trim reckoning!-Who hath it? He that died o'Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it 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 catechism. [Exit.
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.
A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen;
Ver. Deliver what you will, I'll say, 'tis so.
By now forswearing that he is forsworn:
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
Doug. Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have Thou crossest me? What honour dost thou seek
Doug. The lord of Stafford dear to-day hath
A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,
And, nephew, challeng'd you to single fight.
But I, and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
And chid his truant youth with such a grace,
Hot. Cousin, I think, thou art enamoured
Better consider what you have to do,
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. My lord, here are letters for you.
Enter another Messenger.
Mess. My lord, prepare; the king comes on
Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,
[The trumpets sound. They embrace,
This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee,
Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;
(They fight, and Blunt is slain.)
Hot. O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedor I never had triumph'd upon a Scot.
Doug. A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
Hot. The king bath many marching in his coats.
Up, and away;
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. [Exeunt.
Other Alarums. Enter FALSTAFF.
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 Blant ;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 ragamuffins 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?
Lend me thy sword, I pr'ythee.
Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thon wilt.
P. Hen. Give it me: What, is it in the case? Fal. Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city. (The Prince draws out a bottle of sack.) P. Hen. What, is't a time to jest and dally now? [Throws it at him, and exit. Fal. Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If in his, willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. he do come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come I like not such grinning honour as sir Walter hath :
Give me life: which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes unlooked for, and there's an end.
SCENE IV. Another part of the Field. Alarms. Excursions. Enter the King, Prince HENRY, Prince JOHN, and Westmoreland. K. Hen. I pr'ythee,
Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much:-
K. Hen. I will do so :
My lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent. West. Come, my lord, I will lead you to your [help: P. Hen. Lead me, my lord? I do not need your And heaven forbid, a shallow scratch should
The prince of Wales from such a field as this;
P. John. We breathe too long:-Come, cousin
Our duty this way lies; for God's sake, come.
I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
K. Hen. I saw him hold lord Percy at the point,
O, this boy
Lends mettle to us all.
Alarums. Enter DOUGLAS.
Doug. Another King! they grow like Hydras' I am the Douglas, fatal to all those [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,
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.)
P. Hen. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art Never to hold it up again! the spirits [like Of Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms: It is the prince of Wales, that threatens thee; Who never promiseth, but he means to pay.(They fight; Douglas flies.) Cheerly, my lord; How fares your grace?Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent, And so hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton straight.
K. Hen. 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.
P. Hen. O heaven! they did me too much injury, 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, And sav'd the treacherous labour of your son. K. Hen. Make up to Clifton, I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey. [Exit King Henry.
Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth. P. Hen. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my
Hot. My name is Harry Percy. P. Hen.
Why, then I see
A very valiant rebel of the name.
Hot. Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come
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;
Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
I should not make so dear a show of zeal:
[Exit, Fal. (Rising slowly.) Embowell'd! if thou embowel me to-day, I'll give you leave to powder 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 counterfeit: To die, is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who 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