Gave him their heirs, as pages followed him

  Even at the heels in golden multitudes.

  He presently, as greatness knows itself,

  Steps me a little higher than his vow

  Made to my father, while his blood was poor,

  Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh,

  And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform

  Some certain edicts and some strait decrees

  That lay too heavy on the commonwealth,

  Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep

  Over his country's wrongs, and by this face,

  This seeming brow of justice, did he win

  The hearts of all that he did angle for.

  Proceeded further -- cut me off the heads

  Of all the favourites that the absent king

  In deputation left behind him here,

  When he was personal in the Irish war.

  BLUNT Tut, I came not to hear this.

  HOTSPUR Then to the point.

  In short time after, he deposed the king.

  Soon after that, deprived him of his life,

  And in the neck of that, tasked the whole state.

  To make that worse, suffered his kinsman March --

  Who is, if every owner were placed,

  Indeed his king -- to be engaged in Wales,

  There without ransom to lie forfeited,

  Disgraced me in my happy victories,

  Sought to entrap me by intelligence,

  Rated my uncle from the council board,

  In rage dismissed my father from the court,

  Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong,

  And in conclusion drove us to seek out

  This head of safety; and withal to pry

  Into his title, the which we find

  Too indirect for long continuance.

  BLUNT Shall I return this answer to the king?

  HOTSPUR Not so, Sir Walter. We'll withdraw awhile.

  Go to the king, and let there be impawned

  Some surety for a safe return again,

  And in the morning early shall my uncle

  Bring him our purpose. And so farewell.

  BLUNT I would you would accept of grace and love

  HOTSPUR And't may be so we shall.

  BLUNT Pray heaven you do.

  Exeunt

  Act 4 Scene 4

  running scene 14

  Location: unspecified; presumably in the Archbishop of York's palace

  Enter the Archbishop of York and Sir Michael

  ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Hie, good Sir Michael; bear

  this sealed brief

  Gives a letter

  With winged haste to the Lord Marshal,

  This to my cousin Scroop, and all the rest

  To whom they are directed. If you knew

  How much they do import, you would make haste.

  SIR MICHAEL My good lord,

  I guess their tenor.

  ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Like enough you do.

  Tomorrow, 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,

  And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence,

  Who with them was rated firmly too

  And comes not in, o'er-ruled by prophecies,

  I fear the power of Percy is too weak

  To wage an instant trial with the king.

  SIR MICHAEL Why, my good lord, you need not fear.

  There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer.

  ARCHBISHOP OF YORK No, Mortimer is not there.

  SIR MICHAEL But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,

  And there is my lord of Worcester and a head

  Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.

  ARCHBISHOP OF YORK And so there is. But yet the king hath drawn

  The special head of all the land together:

  The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,

  The noble Westmorland and warlike Blunt;

  And many more corrivals and dear men

  Of estimation and command in arms.

  SIR MICHAEL Doubt not, my lord, he shall be well opposed.

  ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 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

  Act 5 Scene 1

  running scene 15

  Location: the king's camp near Shrewsbury

  Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmorland, Sir Walter Blunt and Falstaff

  KING HENRY IV How bloodily the sun begins to peer

  Above yon busky hill! The day looks pale

  At his distemperature.

  PRINCE HENRY The southern wind

  Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,

  And by his hollow whistling in the leaves

  Foretells a tempest and a blust'ring day.

  KING HENRY IV Then with the losers let it sympathize,

  For nothing can seem foul to those that win.

  The trumpet sounds

  Enter Worcester [and Vernon]

  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 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 exhaled meteor,

  A prodigy of fear and a portent

  Of broached mischief to the unborn times?

  WORCESTER 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 HENRY IV You have not sought it? How comes it, then?

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

  PRINCE HENRY Peace, chewet, peace!

  WORCESTER 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

  The danger of the time. You swore to us,

  And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,

  That you did nothing of purpose gainst the state,

  Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n right,

  The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster.

  To this we swore our aid. But in short space

  It rained 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 wanton time,
r />
  The seeming sufferances 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 wooed

  To gripe the general sway into your hand,

  Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster,

  And being fed by us, you used us so

  As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's 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 enforced, for safety sake, to fly

  Out of your sight and raise this present head,

  Whereby we stand opposad by such means

  As you yourself have forged against yourself

  By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,

  And violation of all faith and troth

  Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.

  KING HENRY IV These things indeed you have articulated,

  Proclaimed 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 havoc and confusion.

  PRINCE HENRY In both our armies there is many a soul

  Shall pay full dearly for this encounter,

  If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,

  The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world

  In praise of Henry Percy: by my hopes --

  This present enterprise 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 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.

  KING HENRY IV And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,

  Albeit considerations infinite

  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]

  PRINCE HENRY It will not be accepted, on my life.

  The Douglas and the Hotspur both together

  Are confident against the world in arms.

  KING HENRY IV 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 all but Prince and Falstaff

  FALSTAFF Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and bestride

  me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.

  PRINCE HENRY Nothing but a colossus can do thee that

  friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell.

  FALSTAFF I would it were bedtime, Hal, and all well.

  PRINCE HENRY Why, thou ow'st heaven a death.

  [Exit Prince Henry]

  FALSTAFF '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. 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 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

  Act 5 Scene 2

  running scene 16

  Location: the rebel camp near Shrewsbury, then the battlefield

  Enter Worcester and Sir Richard Vernon

  WORCESTER O, no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,

  The liberal kind offer of the king.

  VERNON 'Twere best he did.

  WORCESTER 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;

  For treason is but trusted like the fox,

  Who, ne'er so tame, so cherished and locked up,

  Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.

  Look how he can, or sad or merrily,

  Interpretation will misquote our looks,

  And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,

  The better cherished, still 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-brained Hotspur, governed 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.

  VERNON Deliver what you will, I'll say 'tis so.

  Here comes your cousin.

  Enter Hotspur [and Douglas]

  HOTSPUR My uncle is returned.

  Deliver up my lord of Westmorland.--

  Uncle, what news?

  WORCESTER The king will bid you battle presently.

  DOUGLAS Defy him by the lord of Westmorland.

  HOTSPUR Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.

  DOUGLAS Marry, and shall, and very willingly.

  Exit Douglas

  WORCESTER There is no seeming mercy in the king.

  HOTSPUR Did you beg any? God forbid!

  WORCESTER 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 Douglas

  DOUGLAS Arm, gentlemen, to arms! For I have thrown

  A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,

  And Westmorland that was engaged did bear it,

  Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.

  WORCESTER The Prince of Wales stepped forth before the king,

  And, nephew, challenged you t
o single fight.

  HOTSPUR O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,

  And that no man might draw short breath today

  But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,

  How showed his talking? Seemed it in contempt?

  VERNON 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,

  Trimmed 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,

  He made a blushing cital of himself,

  And chid his truant youth with such 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 outlive the envy of this day,

  England did never owe so sweet a hope,

  So much misconstrued in his wantonness.

  HOTSPUR Cousin, I think thou art enamoured

  On his follies: never did I hear

  Of any prince so wild a 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 courtesy.

  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

  MESSENGER My lord, here are letters for you.

  HOTSPUR 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 dial's point,

  Still ending at the arrival of an hour.

  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

  MESSENGER My lord, prepare, the king comes on apace.

  HOTSPUR 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 I draw a sword

  Whose worthy temper I intend to stain

  With the best blood that I can meet withal

  In the adventure of this perilous day.

  Now, Esperance! Percy! And set on.

  Sound all the lofty instruments of war,

  And by that music let us all embrace,

  For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall

  A second time do such a courtesy.

  They embrace [and exeunt]. The trumpets sound. The King entereth with his power. Alarum unto the battle. Then enter Douglas and Sir Walter Blunt [dressed like the King]

  BLUNT What is thy name, that in battle thus

  Thou crossest me? What honour dost thou seek

  Upon my head?

  DOUGLAS Know then, my name is Douglas,