Falstaff.
King.
How bloudily the Sun begins to peer
Above yon busky hill: the Day looks pale
At his Distemperature
[The Trumpet sounds.
Enter Worcester.
King.
How now, my Lord of Worster? '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 Robe 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
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 Prodigie of Fear, and a Portent
Of broached Mischief, to the unborn Time?
Mor.
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.
King.
You have not sought it: how come it then?
Falst.
Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
Prin.
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 danger of the time. You swore to us,
And you did swear that Oath to Doncaster,
That you did nothing of purpose 'gainst the State,
-- 47 --
Nor claim no further, then your new-faln right,
The Seat of Gaunt, Dukedom of Lancaster.
To this, we sware our aid: But in short space
It rain'd down Fortune showring on your head,
And such a floud of Greatness fell on you.
And being fed by us, you us'd us so,
As that ungentle gull the Cuckows Bird
Useth the Sparrow, did oppress our Nest,
Grew by our Feeding, to so great a Bulk,
That even our Love durst not come near your sight
For fear of swallowing: But with nimble wing
We were 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,
By unkind Usage, dangerous Countenance,
And violation of all Faith and Troth
Sworn to us in your younger Enterprize.
King.
These things indeed you have articulated,
Proclaim'd at Market Crosses, read in Churches,
To face the Garment of Rebellion:
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.
Prin.
In both our Armies, there is many a Soul
Shall pay full dearly for this Encounter,
If once they joyn in Trial. Tell your Nephew,
The Prince of Wales doth joyn 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,
More Active, Valiant, or more valiant young,
More daring, or more bold, is now alive,
To grace this latter Age with Noble Deeds.
For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
I have a Truant been to Chivalry,
And so I hear he doth account me too:
Yet this before my Fathers 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.
King.
And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
Albeit, Considerations infinite
Do make against it: No, good Worster, no,
We love our People well; even those we love
-- 48 --
That are misled upon your Cousins 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.
[Exit Worcester.
Prin.
It will not be accepted, on my Life,
The Dowglas 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.
[Exeunt.
Manet Prince and Falstaff.
Fal.
Hal, if thou see me down in the Battel,
And bestride me, so; 'tis a point of Friendship.
Prin.
Nothing but a Colossus can do thee that Friendship:
Say thy Prayers, and farewel.
Falst.
I would it were Bed-time, Hal, and all well.
Prin.
Why, thou owest Heaven 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 call's not on me? Well, 'tis
no matter, Honour pricks me on? But now 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
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 II.
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 would keep his Word in loving us,
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;
And we shall feed like Oxen at a Stall,
-- 49 --
The better cherish'd, still the nearer death.
My Nephews trespass may be well forgot,
It hath the excuse of Youth, and heat of Bloud,
And an adopted Name of Priviledge,
A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a Spleen:
All his Offences live upon my Head,
And on his Fathers. We did train him on,
And his Corruption being tane from us,
We as the Spring of all, shall pay for all:
Therefore, good Cousin, let not Harry know
In any Case, the Offer of the King.
Ver.
Deliver what you will, I'll say 'tis so.
Here comes your Cousin.
Enter Hotspur.
Hot.
My Uncle is return'd:
Deliver up my Lord of Westmerland.
Uncle, what News?
Wor.
The King will bid you Battel presently.
Dow.
Defie him by the Lord of Westmerland,
Hot.
Lord Dowglas: Go you and tell him so.
Dow.
Marry and 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 Henries teeth:
And Westmerland that was ingag'd did bear it,
Which cannot choose 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,
-- 50 --
Making you ever better than his Praise,
By still dispraising. Praise, valu'd with you:
And which became him like a Prince indeed,
He made a blushing cital of himself,
And chide his Trewant Youth so with a Grace,
As if he mastered 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
On his follies: never did I here
Of any Prince so wild at Liberty.
But be he as he will, yet once e're night,
I will embrace him with a Souldiers Arm,
That he shall shrink under my courtesie.
Arm, arm with speed.
Enter Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord, here are Letters for you.
Hot.
I cannot read them now.
O Gentlemen, the time of life is short;
To spend that shortness basely; were too long.
If life did ride upon a Dials point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour,
And if we live, we live to tread on Kings:
If dye; brave death, when Princes dye with us.
Now for our Consciences, the Arms is fair,
When the intent for bearing them is just.
Enter another Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord, prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hot.
I thank him, that he cuts me off from my tale:
For I profess not talking: Only this,
Let each man do his best. And here I draw my Sword,
Whose worthy temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withall,
In the Adventure of this perillous day.
Now Esperance Percy, and set on:
Sound all the lofty Instruments of War,
And by that Musick, let us all embrace:
For Heaven to Earth, some of us never shall,
A second time do such a courtesie.
They embrace, the Trumpets sound, the King entreth with his Power, alarm unto the Battel. Then enter Dowglas and Sir Walter Blunt.
Blu.
What is thy Name, that in Battel thus thou crossest me?
What Honour doest thou seek upon my Head?
-- 51 --
Dow.
Know then my name is Dowglas,
And 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 here 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 a Prisoner.
Blu.
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 enters Hotspur.
Hot.
O Dowglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
I never had triumphed o're a Scot.
Dow.
All's done, all's won, here breathless lies the King
Hot.
Where?
Dow.
Here.
Hot.
This, Dowglas? No, I know this 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 borrowed 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,
Untill I meet the King.
Hot.
Up and away.
Our Souldiers stand full fairly for the day.
[Exeunt.
Alarm, and 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; Heaven keep Lead out of me, I need no
more weight than mine own Bowels. I have led my Rag of Muffians
where they are pepper'd: There's not three of 150 left alive, and they
for the Towns end, to beg during Life. But who comes here?
Enter Prince.
Prin.
What stand'st thou idle here? lend me thy Sword,
Many a Noble Man lies stark and stiff
Under the hooves of vaunting Enemies,
Whose deaths are unreveng'd. Prethee lend me thy Sword.
Fal.
O Hal, I prethee give me leave to breathe a while. Turk Gregory
never did such deeds in Arms as I have done this day, I have pay'd
Percy, I have made him sure.
Prin.
He is indeed, and living to kill thee;
I prethee lend me thy Sword.
-- 52 --
Falst.
Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my Sword, but take
my Pistol if thou wilt.
Prin.
Give it me: What, is it in the Case?
Fal.
I Hal, 'tis hot: There's that will Sack a City.
The Prince draws out a Bottle of Sack.
Prin.
What, is it a time to jest and dally now?
[Exit.
Throws it at him.
Falst.
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.
SCENE III.
Enter Hotspur.
Hot.
If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
Prin.
Thou speakest as if I would deny my Name.
Hot.
My Name is Harry Percy.
Prin.
Why 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 Heaven,
Thy Name in Arms, were now as great as mine.
Prin.
I'll make it greater, e're 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.
Enter Dowglas, he fights with Falstaff, who falls down as if he is dead.
The Prince killeth Percy.
Hot.
Oh Harry thou hast rob'd me of my Youth:
I better brook the loss of bitter Life,
Than those proud Titles thou hast won of me,
They wound my Thoughts worse, than the 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 Earth, and the cold hand of death,
Lyes on my Tongue: No, Percy, thou art dust
And food for—
Prin.
For Worms, brave Percy. Farewel great Heart:
Ill-weav'd Ambition, how much art thou shrunk?
-- 53 --
When that this Body did contain a Spirit,
A Kingdom for it was too small a bound:
But now two paces of the vilest Earth
Is room enough. This Earth that bears thee dead,
Bears not alive so stout a Gentleman.
Adieu, and take thy Praise with thee to Heaven,
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the Grave,
But not remembred in thy Epitaph.
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 stuck so fat a Dear to day,
Tho' many dearer in this bloody Fray:
Imbowell'd will I see thee by and by,
Till then, in blood by Noble Percy lye.
[Exit.
Falstaff riseth up.
Falst.
Imbowelled! if thou imbowel me to day, I'll give you leave
to powder me, and eat me too to morrow. 'Twas time to counterfeit,
or that hot Termagant Scot had paid me Scot and Lot too. Counterfeit!
I am no Counterfeit; to dye 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 have 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 Hotspur on his back.
Enter Prince and John of Lancaster.
Prin.
Come Brother John, full bravely hast thou flesh'd thy Maiden
Sword.
John.
But soft, who have we here?
Did you not tell me this fat Man was dead?
Prin.
I did, I saw him dead,
Breathless, and bleeding on the ground: Art thou alive,
Or is it Fantasie that plays upon our Eye-sight?
I prethee speak, we will not trust our Eyes
Without our Ears. Thou art not what thou seem'st.
Falst.
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.
Prin.
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
-- 54 --
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.
John.
This is the strangest tale that e're I heard.
Prin.
This is the strangest Fellow, Brother John.
Come bring your [illeg.] on your back:
For my part, if a lye 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 the 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, Heaven
reward him. If I do grow great again, I'll grow less? for I'll
purge, and leave Sack, and live cleanly, as a Noble man should do.
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
The Trumpets Sound.
Enter King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmerland, with Worcester and Vernon Prisoners.
King.
Thus ever did Rebellion find Rebuke.
Ill spirited Worcester, did we not send Grace,
Pardon, and terms of Love to all of you?
And would'st thou turn our Offers contrary?
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.
King.
Bear Worcester to death, and Vernon too.
Other Offenders we will pause upon.
[Exit Worcester and Vernon.
King.
Then this remains: that we divide our Power.
You Son John, and my Cousin Westmerland
Towards York shall bend, you with your dearest speed
To meet Northumberland, and the Prelate Scroop,
Who (as we here) are busily in Arms.
My self, and Son Harry will towards Wales,
To fight with Glendower, and the Earl of March.
Rebellion in this Land shall lose his way,
Meeting the Check of such another day;
And since this business so far is done,
Let us not leave till all our own be won.
[Exeunt.
