King.
How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above yon busky ^note hill! the day looks pale
At his distemperature.

Prince.
The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
And by his ^note hollow whistling in the leaves
Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.

King.
Then with the losers let it sympathise,

For nothing can seem foul ^note to those that win. [The trumpet sounds. Enter Worcester and Vernon ^note.
How now, my Lord of Worcester! 'tis not well
That you and I should meet upon such terms
As now we meet. You have deceived our trust,
And made us doff our easy robes of peace,
To crush our old ^note 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 ^note in that obedient orb again
Where you did give a fair and natural light,
And be no more an exhaled 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 ^note protest,
I have not sought the day of this dislike.

King.
You have not sought it! how comes it ^note, then?

Fal.
Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.

Prince.
Peace, chewet ^note, peace!

Wor.
It pleased 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 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 myself, my brother, and his son,
That brought you home, and boldly did outdare ^note
The dangers ^note of the time. You swore to us,
And you did swear that oath at Doncaster ^note,
That you did nothing purpose ^note 'gainst the state;
Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n right,
The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster:
To this we swore ^note our aid. But in short space
It rain'd down fortune showering 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 ^note time,
The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
And the contrarious winds that held the king
So long in his ^note unlucky Irish wars
That all in England did repute him dead:
And ^note from this ^note swarm of fair advantages
You took occasion to be quickly woo'd
To gripe the general sway into your hand;
Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster ^note;
And being fed by us you used us so
As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird ^note,
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 enforced, for safety sake, to fly
Out of your sight and raise this present head;

Whereby we stand ^note opposed by such means
As you yourself have forged against yourself
By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth
Sworn ^note to us in your ^note younger enterprise.

King.
These things ^note indeed you have articulate ^note,
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 hurlyburly innovation:
And never yet did insurrection want
Such water-colours to impaint his cause;
Nor moody ^note beggars, starving for a time
Of pellmell havoc and confusion.

Prince.
In both your ^note armies ^note there is many a soul
Shall pay full dearly for this ^note encounter,
If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,
The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world
In praise of Henry ^note Percy: by my hopes,
This present enterprise set off ^note his head,
I do not think a braver gentleman,
More active-valiant ^note or more valiant-young ^note,
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 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 ^note fight.

King.
And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture ^note thee,
Albeit considerations infinite
Do make against it. No, good Worcester ^note, no ^note,
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, ^note
Both he and they and you, yea, every man
Shall be my friend ^note again and I'll be his:
So tell your cousin ^note, and bring ^note me word ^note
What he will do: but if he will not yield ^note,
Rebuke and dread correction wait ^note 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 ^note and Vernon.

Prince.
It will not be accepted, on my life:
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! [Exeunt ^note all but the Prince of Wales and Falstaff. ^note

Fal.

Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, and bestride me, so; ^note 'tis a point of friendship.

Prince.

Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell.

Fal.

I would 'twere ^note bed-time, Hal, and all well. ^note

Prince.

Why, thou owest God ^note a death.

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 ^note, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can ^note honour set to ^note 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? ^note air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' ^note Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis ^note insensible, then. Yea, to the dead. But will it not ^note 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.

^note Scene II. [Footnote: The Rebel Camp. ^note Enter Worcester and Vernon. ^note

Wor.
O, no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
The liberal and kind ^{note note} offer of the king.

Ver.
'Twere best he did.

Wor.
Then are we all undone ^note.
It is not possible, it cannot be,
The king should ^note keep his word in loving us;
He will suspect us still, and find a time
To punish this offence in other ^note faults:
Suspicion ^note all our lives shall be ^note stuck full of eyes;
For treason ^note is but trusted like the fox,
Who, ne'er ^note so tame, so cherish'd and lock'd up,
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
Look how we ^note can, or sad or merrily ^note,
Interpretation will misquote our looks,
And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,
The better cherish'd, still ^note the nearer death.
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

And on his father's; we did train him on,
And, his corruption being ta'en ^note 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 ^note so.
Here comes your ^note cousin ^note. Enter ^note Hotspur and Douglas.

Hot.
My uncle is return'd:
Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.
Uncle, what news? ^note

Wor.
The king will bid you battle presently.

Doug.
Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland.

Hot.
Lord Douglas, go you ^note and tell him so ^note.

Doug.
Marry, and shall ^note, and very ^note willingly. [Exit.

Wor.
There is no seeming mercy in the king.

Hot.
Did you beg any? God forbid ^note!

Wor.
I told ^note him gently of our ^note grievances,
Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,
By now forswearing ^note that he is forsworn:
He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge
With haughty arms this hateful name in us. Re-enter Douglas. ^note

Doug.
Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have thrown
A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,

And Westmoreland, that was engaged, did bear it;
Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.

Wor.
The Prince of Wales stepp'd forth before the king,
And, nephew, challenged 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 show'd his tasking ^note? seem'd it in contempt?

Ver.
No, by my soul; I never in my life
Did hear a challenge urged 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;
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 valued with you ^note;
And, which became him like a prince indeed,
He made a blushing cital of himself;
And chid his truant youth with such ^note a grace
As if he master'd there ^note a double spirit
Of teaching and of learning instantly.
There did he pause: but let me tell the world,
If he outlive 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 ^note follies: never did I hear
Of any prince so wild a libertine ^note.
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, ^note soldiers, friends,
Better consider what you have to do
Than ^note 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 ^note read them now.
O gentlemen, the time of life is short!
To spend that shortness basely were ^note too long,
If ^note life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending ^note at the arrival of an hour. ^note
An if ^note we live, we live ^note to tread on kings;
If die, brave death, when princes die with us!
Now, for our consciences, the arms are ^note fair,
When the intent of ^note bearing them is just. Enter another Messenger. ^note

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— ^note
Let each man do his best: and here draw I ^note
A sword ^note, whose temper ^note I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal
In the adventure of this perilous day.

Now, Esperance ^note! Percy! and set on ^note.
Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
And by that music let us all embrace;
For, heaven to earth, ^note some of us never shall
A second ^note time do such a courtesy. [The trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt. ^{note note} Scene III. [Footnote: Plain ^note between the camps. The King enters with his power. Alarum to the battle. Then enter Douglas and Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt.
What is thy name, that in the ^note battle thus
Thou ^note crossest ^note me? what ^note honour dost thou seek
Upon my head? ^note

Doug.
Know then, my name is Douglas;
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
Because some tell me that thou art a king ^note.

Blunt.
They tell thee true.

Doug.
The Lord of Stafford dear ^note 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 ^note prisoner.

Blunt.
I was not born a yielder, thou proud ^note Scot ^note;
And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
Lord ^note Stafford's death. [They fight. Douglas kills Blunt. Enter Hotspur. ^note

Hot.
O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon ^note thus,
I never had triumph'd upon ^note a Scot.

Doug.
All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king.

Hot.
Where?

Doug.
Here.

Hot.
This, Douglas? no: I know this face ^note full well:
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;
Semblably furnish'd like the king himself.

Doug.
A fool go ^note with thy soul, whither ^note it goes!
A borrowed ^note title hast thou bought too dear:
Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?

Hot.
The king hath many marching ^note in his coats.

Doug.
Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the king.

Hot.
Up, and away!
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. [Exeunt. Alarum ^note. 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 are you? ^note Sir Walter Blunt: there's honour for you! here's no vanity! I am as hot as molten lead, and as heavy too: God ^note keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my ragamuffins ^note where they are peppered: there's not three ^note of my hundred and fifty ^note left alive; and they are ^note for the town's end, to beg during life. But who comes here?

Prince.
What, stand'st ^note thou idle here? lend me thy sword:
Many a nobleman ^note lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are yet ^note unrevenged: I prithee ^note, lend me ^note thy sword. ^note

Fal.

O Hal, I prithee, give me leave to breathe awhile. Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure. ^note

Prince.

He is, indeed; and living to kill thee ^note. I prithee, lend ^note me thy sword.

Fal.

Nay, before God, Hal ^note, if Percy be alive, thou get'st ^note not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.

Prince.

Give it me: what, is it ^note in the case?

Fal.

Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot ^note; there's that will sack a city.

Prince.

What, is it ^note a time to jest and dally now?

Fal.

Well, ^note if Percy be alive, I'll ^note pierce him. If he do come in my way, so: ^note if he do not, if I come in his willingly, ^note 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 unlooked for, and there's an end.