Richard Vernon.
K. Henry,
How now, my lord of Wor'ster? 'tis not well,
That you and I should meet upon such terms
As now we meet. You have deceiv'd our Trust,
And made us doff our easie robes of Peace,
To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel:
This is not well, my lord, this is not well.
What say you to't? will you again unknit
This churlish knot of all-abhorred war,
And move in that obedient Orb again,
Where you did give a fair and natural light;
And be no more an exhal'd meteor,
A prodigy of fear, and a portent
Of broached mischief, to the unborn times?
Wor.
Hear me, my Liege:
For mine own part, I could be well content
To entertain the lag-end of my life
With quiet hours: for I do protest,
I have not sought the day of this dislike.
K. Henry.
You have not sought it, Sir? how comes it then?
Fal.
Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.(20) note
-- 422 --
P. Henry.
Peace, Chewet, peace.
Wor.
It pleas'd your Majesty, to turn your looks
Of favour, from my self, and all our House;
And yet I must remember you, my lord,
We were the first and dearest of your friends:
For you, my Staff of Office did I break
In Richard's time, and posted day and night
To meet you on the way, and kiss your hand;
When yet you were in place and in account
Nothing so strong and fortunate, as I:
It was my self, my brother, and his son,
That brought you home, and boldly did out-dare
The dangers of the time. You swore to us,
(And you did swear that Oath at Doncaster,)
That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the State,
Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n Right;
The Seat of Gaunt, Dukedom of Lancaster.
To this, we sware 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,
The seeming suff'rances that you had borne,
And the contrarious winds that held the King
So long in the unlucky Irish wars,
That all in England did repute him dead:
And from this swarm of fair advantages
You took occasion to be quickly woo'd,
To gripe the gen'ral 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 Cuckow's bird,
Useth the Sparrow; did oppress our nest,
Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk,
That ev'n our love durst not come near your sight
For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing
We were inforc'd for safety's sake to fly
Out of your sight, and raise this present head:
Whereby we stand opposed by such means
As you your self have forg'd against your self,
-- 423 --
By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth,
Sworn to us in your younger enterprize.
K. Henry.
These things, indeed, you have articulated,
Proclaim'd at Market-Crosses, read in churches,
To face the garment of Rebellion
With some fine colour, that may please the eye
Of fickle Changelings and poor Discontents;
Which gape, and rub the elbow at the news
Of hurly-burly innovation.—
And never yet did Insurrection want
Such water-colours, to impaint his cause:
Nor moody beggars, starving for a time
Of pell-mell havock and confusion.
P. Henry.
In both our armies, there is many a soul
Shall pay full dearly for this bold encounter,
If once they join in tryal. Tell your Nephew,
The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world
In praise of Henry Percy: By my hopes,
(This present enterprize set off his head)
I do not think a braver gentleman,(21) note
More active-valiant, or more valiant-young,
More daring, or more bold, is now alive,
To grace this latter age with noble deed.
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.
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.
-- 424 --
K. Henry.
And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
Albeit, Considerations infinite
Do make against it: No, good Wor'ster, no,
We love our people well; even those we love,
That are mis-led 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 return 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.
[Exit Worcester, with Vernon.
P. Henry.
It will not be accepted, on my life.
The Dowglas and the Hot-spur both together
Are confident against the world in arms.
K. Henry.
Hence, therefore, every Leader to his Charge.
For on their answer will we set on them:
And God befriend us, as our cause is just!
[Exeunt.
Manent Prince Henry, and Falstaff.
Fal.
Hal, if thou see me down in the battel, and bestride
me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.
P. Henry.
Nothing but a Colossus can do thee that
friendship: Say thy prayers, and farewel.
Fal.
I would, it were bed time, Hal, and all well.
P. Henry.
Why, thou owest heav'n a death.
Fal.
'Tis not due yet: I would be loth 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. 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 that word honour? Air;
a trim Reckoning.—who hath it? he that dy'd a Wednesday.
doth he feel it? no. doth he hear it? no. is it
-- 425 --
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 meer scutcheon,
and so ends my catechism.
[Exit.
Scene 2
SCENE changes to Percy's Camp.
Enter Worcester, and Sir Richard Vernon.
Wor.
O, no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
The liberal kind offer of the King.
Ver.
'Twere best, he did.
Wor.
Then we are all undone.
It is not possible, it cannot be,
The King shou'd keep his word in loving us;
He will suspect us still, and find a time
To punish this offence in other faults:
Suspicion, all our lives, shall be stuck full of eyes;
For treason is but trusted like a Fox,
Who ne'er so tame, so cherish'd, and lock'd up,
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
Look how we can, or sad, or merrily,
Interpretation will misquote our looks;
And we shall feed like Oxen at a stall,
The better cherish'd, still the nearer death.
My Nephew's Trespass may be well forgot,
It hath th' excuse of youth and heat of blood;
And an adopted name of privilege,
A hair-brain'd Hot-spur, govern'd by a spleen:
All his offences live upon my head,
And on his father's. We did train him on;
And his corruption, being ta'en from us,
We, as the Spring of all, shall pay for all.
Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know,
In any case, the offer of the King.
Ver.
Deliver what you will, I'll say, 'tis so.
Here comes your cousin.
-- 426 --
Enter Hot-spur and Dowglas.
Hot.
My uncle is return'd:
Deliver up my lord of Westmorland.
Uncle, what news?
Wor.
The King will bid you battel presently.
Dow.
Defie him by the lord of Westmorland.
Hot.
Lord Dowglas, go you then and tell him so.
Dowg.
Marry, I shall, and very willingly.
[Exit Dowglas.
Wor.
There is no seeming mercy in the King.
Hot.
Did you beg any? God forbid!
Wor.
I told him gently of our grievances,
Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,
By now forswearing that he is forsworn.
He calls us rebels, traitors, and will scourge
With haughty arms this hateful name in us.
Enter Dowglas.
Dow.
Arm, gentlemen, to arms; for I have thrown
A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth:
And Westmorland, that was ingag'd, did bear it;
Which cannot chuse but bring him quickly on.
Wor.
The Prince of Wales stept forth before the King,
And, Nephew, challeng'd you to single fight.
Hot.
O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
And that no man might draw short breath to day,
But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
How shew'd his talking? seem'd it in contempt?
Ver.
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,
Trim'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, valued with You.
And, which became him like a Prince indeed,
-- 427 --
He made a blushing cital of himself,
And chid his truant youth with such a grace,
As if he master'd there a double spirit,
Of teaching, and of learning, instantly.
There did he pause; But let me tell the world,
If he out-live the envy of this day,
England did never owe so sweet a hope,
So much misconstrued in his wantonness.
Hot.
Cousin, I think, thou art enamoured
Upon his follies; never did I hear(22) note
Of any Prince, so wild, at 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 courtesie.
Arm, arm with speed. And fellows, soldiers, friends,
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.
Mess.
My lord, here are letters for you.
Hot.
I cannot read them now.
O Gentlemen, the time of life is short:
To spend that shortness basely were too long,
Tho' life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at th' arrival of an hour.
-- 428 --
And if we live, we live to tread on Kings:
If die; brave death, when Princes die with us!
Now, for our consciences,—the arms are fair,
When the intent for bearing them is just.
Enter another Messenger.
Mess.
My lord, prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hot.
I thank him, that he cuts me from my Tale,
For I profess not talking: only 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.
Now, Esperanza! Percy! and set on:
Sound all the lofty instruments of war;
And by that musick let us all embrace:
For (heav'n to earth) some of us never shall
A second time do such a courtesie.
[They embrace, then exeunt. The Trumpets sound.
The King entreth with his Power; Alarm to the battel.
Then enter Dowglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.
Blunt.
What is thy name, that thus in battel crossest me?
What honour dost thou seek upon my head?
Dow.
Know then, my name is Dowglas,
And I do haunt thee in the battel thus,
Because, some tell me, that thou art a King.
Blunt.
They tell thee true.
Dow.
The lord of Stafford dear to day hath bought
Thy likeness; for instead of thee, King Harry,
This sword hath ended him; so shall it thee,
Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.
Blunt.
I was not born to yield, thou haughty Scot,
And thou shalt find a King that will revenge
Lord Stafford's death.
Fight, Blunt is slain: then enter Hot-spur.
Hot.
O Dowglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
I never had triumphed o'er a Scot.
-- 429 --
Dow.
All's done, all's won, here breathless lies the King.
Hot.
Where?
Dow.
Here.
Hot.
This, Dowglas? no: I know his face full well:
A gallant Knight he was, his name was Blunt,
Semblably furnish'd like the King himself.
Dow.
Ah! 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?
Hot.
The King hath many marching in his coats.
Dow.
Now by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
I'll murther all his wardrobe piece by piece,
Until I meet the King.
Hot.
Up and away,
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
[Exeunt.
Alarm, enter Falstaff solus.
Fal.
Though I could scape shot-free at London, I fear
the shot here: here's no scoring, but upon the pate.
Soft, who art thou? Sir Walter Blunt? there's honour
for you; here's no vanity: I am as hot as moulten lead,
and as heavy too: heav'n keep lead out of me, I need
no more weight than mine own bowels! I have led my
rag-o-muffians where they are pepper'd: 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 Prince Henry.
P. Henry.
What, stand'st thou idle here? lend me thy sword,
Many a noble man lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies.
Whose deaths are unreveng'd. Lend me thy sword.
Fal.
O Hal, I pr'ythee, give me leave to breathe a
while. (23) noteTurk Gregory never did such deeds in arms,
-- 430 --
as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have
made him sure.
P. Henry.
He is, indeed, and living to kill thee:
I pr'ythee, lend me thy sword.
Fal.
Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my
sword: but take my pistol, if thou wilt.
P. Henry.
Give it me: what, is it in the case?
Fal.
Ay, Hal, 'tis hot. There's That will sack a city.
[The Prince draws out a bottle of Sack.
P. Henry.
What, is it a time to jest and dally now?
[Throws it at him, and exit.
Fal.
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,
which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes unlook'd
for, and there's an end.
[Exit.
Alarum, Excursions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord
John of Lancaster, and the Earl of Westmorland.
K. Henry.
I pr'ythee, Harry, withdraw thy self, thou
bleedest too much: Lord John of Lancaster, go you
with him.
Lan.
Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
P. Henry.
I do beseech your Majesty make up,
Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.
K. Henry.
I will do so:
My lord of Westmorland, lead him to his Tent.
West.
Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your Tent.
P. Henry.
Lead me, my lord! I do not need your help;
And heav'n forbid, a shallow scratch should drive
The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
-- 431 --
Where stain'd Nobility lies trodden on,
And Rebels arms triumph in massacres!
Lan.
We breathe too long; come, cousin Westmorland,
Our duty this way lies; for heav'n's sake, come.
P. Henry.
By heav'n, thou hast deceiv'd me, Lancaster,
I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John;
But now, I do respect thee as my soul.
K. Henry.
I saw him hold lord Percy at the point,
With lustier maintenance than I did look for
Of such an ungrown warrior.
P. Henry.
Oh, this boy
Lends mettle to us all.
[Exeunt.
Manet King Henry. Enter Dowglas.
Dow.
Another King? they grow, like Hydra's heads:
I am the Dowglas, fatal to all those
That wear those colours on them. What art thou,
That counterfeit'st the person of a King?
K. Henry.
The King himself, who, Dowglas, grieves at heart,
So many of his shadows thou hast met,
And not the very King. I have two boys
Seek Percy and thy self about the field;
But seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
I will assay thee: so defend thy self.
Dow.
I fear, thou art another counterfeit;
And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a King:
But mine, I'm sure, thou art, who e'er thou be,
And thus I win thee.
[They fight: the King being in danger.
Enter Prince Henry.
P. Henry.
Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
Never to hold it up again: the Spirits
Of Sherly, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms;
It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
Who never promiseth, but means to pay.
[They fight, Dowglas flyeth.
-- 432 --
Chearly, my lord; how fares your Grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton strait.
K. Henry.
Stay, and breathe a while.
Thou hast redeem'd my lost opinion,
And shew'd, thou mak'st some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
P. Henry.
O heav'n! they did me too much injury,
That ever said, I hearken'd for your death.
If it were so, I might have let alone
Th' insulting hand of Dowglas over you;
Which would have been as speedy in your end,
As all the pois'nous potions in the world,
And sav'd the treach'rous labour of your son.
K. Henry.
Make up to Clifton, I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.
[Exit.
Enter Hot-spur.
Hot.
If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
P. Henry.
Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.
Hot.
My name is Harry Percy.
P. Henry.
Then I see
A very valiant Rebel of that 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,
Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.
Hot.
Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come
To end the one of us; and would to heav'n,
Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!
P. Henry.
I'll make it greater, ere I part from thee;
And all the budding honours on thy crest
I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.
Hot.
I can no longer brook thy vanities.
[Fight.
Enter Falstaff.
Fal.
Well said, Hal; to it, Hal. Nay, you shall
find no boys play here, I can tell you.
-- 433 --
Enter Dowglas, he fights with Falstaff, who falls down
as if he were dead. The Prince kills Percy.
Hot.
Oh, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth:
I better brook the loss of brittle life,
Than those proud Titles thou hast won of me;
They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my flesh:
But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool;
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophesie,
But that the earthy and cold hand of death,
Lyes on my tongue: no, Percy, thou art dust,
And food for—
[Dies.
P. Henry.
Worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well!
Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
When that this body did contain a spirit,(24) note
A Kingdom for it was too small a bound:
But now two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough! this earth, that bears thee dead,
Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
If thou wert sensible of courtesie,
I should not make so great a show of zeal.
But let my favours hide thy mangled face,
And, ev'n in thy behalf, I'll thank my self
For doing these fair Rites of tenderness.
Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heav'n;
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the Grave,
-- 434 --
But not remember'd in thy epitaph.
[He sees Falstaff.
—What! old acquaintance! could not all this flesh
Keep in a little life? poor Jack, farewel!
I could have better spar'd a better man.
O, I should have a heavy miss of thee,
If I were much in love with Vanity.
Death hath not struck so fat a Deer to day,
Though many a dearer in this bloody fray:
Imbowell'd will I see thee by and by,
Till then, in blood by noble Percy lye.
[Exit.
Falstaff rises.
Fal.
Imbowell'd!—if thou imbowel me to day, I'll
give you leave to powder me, and eat me 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. I am afraid of this gun-powder Percy,
though he be dead. How if he should counterfeit too,
and rise? I am afraid, he would prove the better counterfeit;
therefore I'll make him sure; yea, and I'll
swear, I kill'd him. Why may not he rise as well as I?
nothing confutes me but eyes, and no body sees me.
Therefore, sirrah, with a new wound in your thigh
come you along with me.
[Takes Hot-spur on his back.
Enter Prince Henry, and John of Lancaster.
P. Henry.
Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesht
Thy maiden sword.
Lan.
But soft! whom have we here?
Did you not tell me, this fat man was dead?
P. Henry.
I did, I saw him dead,
And breathless on the ground: art thou alive,
Or is it fancy plays upon our eye-sight?
I pr'ythee, speak, we will not trust our eyes
-- 435 --
Without our ears: thou art not what thou seem'st.
Fal.
No, that's certain; I am not a double man;
but if I am not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack: there
is Percy, if your father will do me any honour, so; if
not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look either
to be Earl or Duke, I can assure you.
P. Henry.
Why, Percy I kill'd my self, and saw thee dead.
Fal.
Did'st thou? lord, lord, how the world is given
to lying! I grant you, I was down, and out of breath,
and so was he; but we rose both at an instant, and
fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock: if I may be
believed, so; if not, let them, that should reward valour,
bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take't on
my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh: if the
man were alive, and would deny it, I would make him
eat a piece of my sword.
Lan.
This is the strangest Tale that e'er I heard.
P. Henry.
This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back:
For my part, if a Lie may do thee grace,
I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
[A Retreat is sounded.
The trumpets sound retreat, the day is ours:
Come, brother, let's to th' highest of the field,
To see what friends are living, who are dead.
[Exeunt.
Fal.
I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that rewards
me, heav'n reward him! If I do grow great, I'll
grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly,
as a noble man should do.
[Exit.
The Trumpets sound: Enter King Henry, Prince of Wales,
Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmorland, with
Worcester and Vernon Prisoners.
K. Henry.
Thus ever did Rebellion find rebuke.
Ill-spirited Wor'ster, did we not send grace,
Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?
And would'st thou turn our offers contrary?
Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust?
Three Knights upon our party slain to day,
A noble Earl, and many a creature else,
Had been alive this hour,
-- 436 --
If like a christian thou had'st truly borne
Betwixt our armies true intelligence.
Wor.
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.
K. Henry.
Bear Worcester to death, and Vernon too.
Other Offenders we will pause upon.
[Exeunt Worcester and Vernon, guarded.
How goes the field?
P. Henry.
The gallant Scot, lord Dowglas, when he saw
The fortune of the day quite turned from him,
The noble Percy slain, and all his men
Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest;
And, falling from a hill, he was so bruis'd,
That the pursuers took him. At my Tent
The Dowglas is, and, I beseech your Grace,
I may dispose of him.
K. Henry.
With all my heart.
P. Henry.
Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you
This honourable bounty shall belong:
Go to the Dowglas, and deliver him
Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free:
His valour, shewn upon our crests to day,
Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds,
Ev'n in the bosom of our adversaries.
Lan.
I thank your Grace for this high courtesie,
Which I shall give away immediately.
K. Henry.
Then this remains; that we divide our Power.
You son John, and my cousin Westmorland,
Tow'rds York shall bend you, with your dearest speed,
To meet Northumberland and Prelate Scroop,
Who, as we hear, are busily in arms.
My self and You, son Harry, will tow'rds Wales,
To fight with Glendower and the Earl of Marche.
Rebellion in this Land shall lose his sway,
Meeting the check of such another day;
And since this business so far fair is done,
Let us not leave, till all our own be won.
[Exeunt.
