Henry IV, Part 1 (Folger Shakespeare Library) Page 10
Thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest
I am pacified still. Nay, prithee be gone.--
Exit Hostess
Now Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad, how is
that answered?
PRINCE HENRY O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to
thee. The money is paid back again.
FALSTAFF O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labour.
PRINCE HENRY I am good friends with my father and may do
anything.
FALSTAFF Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou dost, and
do it with unwashed hands too.
BARDOLPH Do, my lord.
PRINCE HENRY I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.
FALSTAFF I would it had been of horse. Where shall I find one
that can steal well? O, for a fine thief, of two-and-twenty or
thereabout! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be
thanked for these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous. I
laud them, I praise them.
PRINCE HENRY Bardolph.
BARDOLPH My lord?
PRINCE HENRY Go bear this letter to Lord John of
Lancaster,
Gives letters
To my brother John. This to my lord of Westmorland.--
[Exit Bardolph]
Go, Peto, to horse, for thou and I
Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.--
[Exit Peto]
Jack, meet me tomorrow in the Temple hall
At two o'clock in the afternoon.
There shalt thou know thy charge and there receive
Money and order for their furniture.
The land is burning, Percy stands on high,
And either they or we must lower lie.
[Exit Prince Henry]
FALSTAFF Rare words! Brave world! Hostess, my breakfast,
come!
O, I could wish this tavern were my drum!
Exit
Act 4 Scene 1
running scene 11
Location: the rebel camp near Shrewsbury
Enter Harry Hotspur, Worcester and Douglas
HOTSPUR Well said, my noble Scot. If speaking truth
In this fine age were not thought flattery,
Such attribution should the Douglas have,
As not a soldier of this season's stamp
Should go so general current through the world.
By heaven, I cannot flatter: I defy
The tongues of soothers. But a braver place
In my heart's love hath no man than yourself.
Nay, task me to my word, approve me, lord.
DOUGLAS Thou art the king of honour:
No man so potent breathes upon the ground
But I will beard him.
Enter a Messenger
With letters
HOTSPUR Do so, and 'tis well.--
What letters hast there? -- I can but thank you.
MESSENGER These letters come from your father.
HOTSPUR Letters from him? Why comes he not himself?
MESSENGER He cannot come, my lord, he is grievous sick.
HOTSPUR How? Has he the leisure to be sick now
In such a jostling time? Who leads his power?
Under whose government come they along?
MESSENGER His letters bears his mind, not I his mind.
WORCESTER I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?
MESSENGER He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth,
And at the time of my departure thence
He was much feared by his physician.
WORCESTER I would the state of time had first been whole
Ere he by sickness had been visited:
His health was never better worth than now.
HOTSPUR Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect
The very life-blood of our enterprise,
'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
He writes me here that inward sickness --
And that his friends by deputation could not
So soon be drawn, nor did he think it meet
To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
On any soul removed but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
That with our small conjunction we should on,
To see how fortune is disposed to us,
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,
Because the king is certainly possessed
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
WORCESTER Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
HOTSPUR A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off:
And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want
Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good
To set the exact wealth of all our states
All at one cast? To set so rich a main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good, for therein should we read
The very bottom and the soul of hope,
The very list, the very utmost bound
Of all our fortunes.
DOUGLAS 'Faith, and so we should,
Where now remains a sweet reversion,
We may boldly spend upon the hope of what
Is to come in.
A comfort of retirement lives in this.
HOTSPUR A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,
If that the devil and mischance look big
Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.
WORCESTER But yet I would your father had been here.
The quality and hair of our attempt
Brooks no division: it will be thought
By some, that know not why he is away,
That wisdom, loyalty and mere dislike
Of our proceedings kept the earl from hence.
And think how such an apprehension
May turn the tide of fearful faction
And breed a kind of question in our cause,
For well you know, we of the off'ring side
Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,
And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence
The eye of reason may pry in upon us:
This absence of your father draws a curtain,
That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt of.
HOTSPUR You strain too far.
I rather of his absence make this use:
It lends a lustre and more great opinion,
A larger dare to our great enterprise,
Than if the earl were here, for men must think,
If we without his help can make a head
To push against the kingdom, with his help
We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.
Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.
DOUGLAS As heart can think. There is not such a word
Spoke of in Scotland as this dream of fear.
Enter Sir Richard Vernon
HOTSPUR My cousin Vernon, welcome, by my soul.
VERNON Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
The Earl of Westmorland, seven thousand strong,
Is marching hitherwards, with him Prince John.
HOTSPUR No harm: what more?
VERNON And further, I have learned,
The king himself in person hath set forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,
With strong and mighty preparation.
HOTSPUR He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,
And his comrades that daffed the world aside
And bid it pass?
VERNON All furnished, all in arms,
All plumed like estridges that with the wind
Bated like eagles having lately bathed,
Glittering in golden coats like images,
As full of spirit as the month of May,
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed,
Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropped down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
HOTSPUR No more, no more. Worse than the sun in March,
This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come.
They come like sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war
All hot and bleeding will we offer them:
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh
And yet not ours. Come, let me take my horse,
Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt
Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.
Harry to Harry, shall hot horse to horse
Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corpse!
O, that Glendower were come!
VERNON There is more news:
I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,
He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
DOUGLAS That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
WORCESTER Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
HOTSPUR What may the king's whole battle reach unto?
VERNON To thirty thousand.
HOTSPUR Forty let it be.
My father and Glendower being both away,
The powers of us may serve so great a day.
Come, let us take a muster speedily:
Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.
DOUGLAS Talk not of dying. I am out of fear
Of death or death's hand for this one-half year.
Exeunt
Act 4 Scene 2
running scene 12
Location: the road (they are traveling, probably along the Roman road Watling Street from London to Shrewsbury via Coventry, a Midlands town near Stratford-upon-Avon)
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph
FALSTAFF Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry. Fill me a
bottle of sack. Our soldiers shall march through, we'll to
Sutton Coldfield tonight.
BARDOLPH Will you give me money, captain?
FALSTAFF Lay out, lay out.
BARDOLPH This bottle makes an angel.
FALSTAFF An if it do, take it for thy labour. And if it make
twenty, take them all, I'll answer the coinage. Bid my
lieutenant Peto meet me at the town's end.
BARDOLPH I will, captain. Farewell.
Exit
FALSTAFF 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,
yeoman's sons, inquire me out contracted bachelors, such
as had been asked twice on the banns, such a commodity
of warm slaves as had as lieve hear the devil as a drum;
such as fear the report of a caliver worse than a struck fowl
or a hurt wild duck. I 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
servingmen, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted
tapsters and ostlers trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world
and 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 I had unloaded
all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen
such scarecrows. 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 not 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 of
Saint Albans, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. But
that's all one, they'll find linen enough on every hedge.
Enter the Prince and the Lord of Westmorland
PRINCE HENRY How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt?
FALSTAFF What, Hal? How now, mad wag? What a devil dost
thou in Warwickshire? -- My good lord of Westmorland, I
cry you mercy: I thought your honour had already been at
Shrewsbury.
WESTMORLAND '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 tonight.
FALSTAFF Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to steal
cream.
PRINCE HENRY 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?
FALSTAFF Mine, Hal, mine.
PRINCE HENRY I did never see such pitiful rascals.
FALSTAFF 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.
WESTMORLAND Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding
poor and bare, too beggarly.
FALSTAFF Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had
that; and for their bareness, I am sure they never learned
that of me.
PRINCE HENRY No, I'll be sworn, unless you call three fingers on
the ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste. Percy is already in the
field.
FALSTAFF What, is the king encamped?
WESTMORLAND He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too long.
FALSTAFF Well,
To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast
Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.
Exeunt
Act 4 Scene 3
running scene 13
Location: the rebel camp near Shrewsbury
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas and Vernon
HOTSPUR We'll fight with him tonight.
WORCESTER It may not be.
DOUGLAS You give him then advantage.
VERNON Not a whit.
HOTSPUR Why say you so? Looks he not for supply?
VERNON So do we.
HOTSPUR His is certain, ours is doubtful.
WORCESTER Good cousin, be advised, stir not tonight.
VERNON Do not, my lord.
DOUGLAS You do not counsel well:
You speak it out of fear and cold heart.
VERNON Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life,
And I dare well maintain it with my life,
If well-respected honour bid me on,
I hold as little counsel with weak fear
As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives.
&
nbsp; Let it be seen tomorrow in the battle
Which of us fears.
DOUGLAS Yea, or tonight.
VERNON Content.
HOTSPUR Tonight, say I.
VERNON Come, come it may not be. I wonder much,
Being men of such great leading as you are,
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition: certain horse
Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up,
Your uncle Worcester's horse came but today,
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horse is half the half of himself.
HOTSPUR So are the horses of the enemy
In general, journey-bated and brought low.
The better part of ours are full of rest.
WORCESTER 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,
If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.
HOTSPUR Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt, and would to God
You were of our determination.
Some of us love you well, and even those some
Envy your great deservings and good name,
Because you are not of our quality,
But stand against us like an enemy.
BLUNT And heaven defend but still I should stand so,
So long as out of limit and true rule
You stand against anointed majesty.
But to my charge: the king hath sent to know
The nature of your griefs, and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
Audacious cruelty. If that the king
Have any way your good deserts forgot,
Which he confesseth to be manifold,
He bids you name your griefs, and with all speed
You shall have your desires with interest,
And pardon absolute for yourself and these
Herein misled by your suggestion.
HOTSPUR The king is kind, and well we know the king
Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
My father, my uncle and myself
Did give him that same royalty he wears,
And when he was not six and twenty strong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,
My father gave him welcome to the shore.
And when he heard him swear and vow to God
He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
To sue his livery and beg his peace,
With tears of innocency and terms of zeal,
My father, in kind heart and pity moved,
Swore him assistance and performed it too.
Now when the lords and barons of the realm
Perceived Northumberland did lean to him,
The more and less came in with cap and knee,
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffered him their oaths,