University of Virginia Library

Actus Quartus.

Scœna Prima.

Enter Harrie Hotspurre, Worcester, and Dowglas.
Hot.
Well said, my Noble Scot, if speaking truth
In this fine Age, were not thought flatterie,
Such attribution should the Dowglas haue,
As not a Souldiour of this seasons stampe,
Should go so generall currant through the world.
By heauen I cannot flatter: I defie
The Tongues of Soothers. But a Brauer place
In my hearts loue, hath no man then your Selfe.
Nay, taske me to my word: approue me Lord.

Dow.
Thou art the King of Honor:
No man so potent breathes vpon the ground,
But I will Beard him.

Enter a Messenger.
Hot.
Do so, and 'tis well. What Letters hast there?
I can but thanke you.

Mess.
These Letters come from your Father.

Hot.
Letters from him?
Why comes he not himselfe?

Mes.
He cannot come, my Lord,
He is greeuous sicke.

Hot.
How? haz he the leysure to be sicke now,
In such a iustling time? Who leades his power?
Vnder whose Gonernment come they along?

Mess.
His Letters beares his minde, not I his minde.

Wor.
I prethee tell me, doth he keepe his Bed?

Mess.
He did, my Lord, foure dayes ere I set forth:
And at the time of my departure thence,
He was much fear'd by his Physician.

Wor.
I would the state of time had first beene whole,
Ere he by sicknesse had beene visited:
His health was neuer better worth then now.

Hotsp.
Sicke now? droope now? this sicknes doth infect
The very Life-blood of our Enterprise,
'Tis catching hither, euen to our Campe.
He writes me here, that inward sicknesse,
And that his friends by deputation
Could not so soone be drawne: nor did he thinke it meet,
To lay so dangerous and deare a trust
On any Soule remou'd, but on his owne.
Yet doth he giue vs bold aduertisement,
That with our small coniunction we should on,
To see how Fortune is dispos'd to vs:
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,
Because the King is certainely possest
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Wor.
Your Fathers sicknesse is a mayme to vs.

Hotsp.
A perillous Gash, a very Limme lopt off:
And yet, in faith, it is not his present want
Seemes more then we shall finde it.
Were it good, to set the exact wealth of all our states
All at one Cast? To set so rich a mayne
On the nice hazard of one doubtfull houre,
It were not good: for therein should we reade
The very Bottome, and the Soule of Hope,
The very List, the very vtmost Bound
Of all our fortunes.

Dowg.
Faith, and so wee should,
Where now remaines a sweet reuersion.
We may boldly spend, vpon the hope
Of what is to come in:
A comfort of retyrement liues in this.

Hotsp.
A Randeuous, a Home to flye vnto,
If that the Deuill and Mischance looke bigge
Vpon the Maydenhead of our Affaires.

Wor.
But yet I would your Father had beene here:
The Qualitie and Heire of our Attempt
Brookes no diuision: It will be thought
By some, that know not why he is away,
That wisedome, loyaltie, and meere dislike
Of our proceedings, kept the Earle from hence.
And thinke, how such an apprehension
May turne the tyde of fearefull Faction,
And breede a kinde of question in our cause:
For well you know, wee of the offring side,
Must keepe aloofe from strict arbitrement,
And stop all sight-holes, euery loope, from whence
The eye of reason may prie in vpon vs:
This absence of your Father drawes a Curtaine,
That shewes the ignorant a kinde of feare,
Before not dreamt of.

Hotsp.
You strayne too farre.
I rather of his absence make this vse:
It lends a Lustre, and more great Opinion,
A larger Dare to your great Enterprize,
Then if the Earle were here: for men must thinke,
If we without his helpe, can make a Head
To push against the Kingdome; with his helpe,
We shall o're-turne it topsie-turuy downe:
Yet all goes well, yet all our ioynts are whole.

Dowg.
As heart can thinke:
There is not such a word spoke of in Scotland,
As this Dreame of Feare.

Enter Sir Richard Vernon.
Hotsp.
My Cousin Vernon, welcome by my Soule.

Vern.
Pray God my newes be worth a welcome, Lord.
The Earle of Westmerland, seuen thousand strong,
Is marching hither-wards, with Prince Iohn.

Hotsp.
No harme: what more?

Vern.
And further, I haue learn'd,
The King himselfe in person hath set forth,
Or hither-wards intended speedily,
With strong and mightie preparation.

Hotsp.
He shall be welcome too.
Where is his Sonne,
The nimble-footed Mad-Cap, Prince of Wales,
And his Cumrades, that daft the World aside,
And bid it passe?

Vern.
All furnisht, all in Armes,
All plum'd like Estridges, that with the Winde
Bayted like Eagles, hauing lately bath'd,
Glittering in Golden Coates, like Images,
As full of spirit as the Moneth of May,
And gorgeous as the Sunne at Mid-summer,
Wanton as youthfull Goates, wilde as young Bulls.
I saw young Harry with his Beuer on,
His Cushes on his thighes, gallantly arm'd,
Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his Seat,
As if an Angell dropt downe from the Clouds,
To turne and winde a fierie Pegasus,
And witch the World with Noble Horsemanship.

Hotsp.
No more, no more,
Worse then the Sunne in March:
This prayse doth nourish Agues: let them come.
They come like Sacrifices in their trimme,
And to the fire-ey'd Maid of smoakie Warre,
All hot, and bleeding, will wee offer them:
The mayled Mars shall on his Altar sit
Vp to the eares in blood. I am on fire,
To heare this rich reprizall is so nigh,
And yet not ours. Come, let me take my Horse,
Who is to beare me like a Thunder-bolt,
Against the bosome of the Prince of Wales.
Harry to Harry, shall not Horse to Horse
Meete, and ne're part, till one drop downe a Coarse?
Oh, that Glendower were come.

Ver.
There is more newes:
I learned in Worcester, as I rode along,
He cannot draw his Power this foureteene dayes.

Dowg.

That's the worst Tidings that I heare of
yet.

Wor.

I by my faith, that beares a frosty sound.

Hotsp.

What may the Kings whole Battaile reach
vnto?

Ver.
To thirty thousand.

Hot.
Forty let it be,
My Father and Glendower being both away,
The powres of vs, may serue so great a day.
Come, let vs take a muster speedily:
Doomesday is neere; dye all, dye merrily.

Dow.
Talke not of dying, I am out of feare
Of death, or deaths hand, for this one halfe yeare.

Exeunt Omnes.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Falstaffe and Bardolph.
Falst.

Bardolph, get thee before to Couentry, fill me a
Bottle of Sack, our Souldiers shall march through: wee'le
to Sutton-cop-hill to Night.

Bard.

Will you giue me Money, Captaine?

Falst.

Lay out, lay out.

Bard.

This Bottle makes an Angell.

Falst.

And if it doe, take it for thy labour: and if it
make twentie, take them all, Ile answere the Coynage.
Bid my Lieutenant Peto meete me at the Townes end.

Bard.

I will Captaine: farewell.

Exit.
Falst.

If I be not asham'd of my Souldiers, I am a
sowc't-Gurnet: I haue mis-vs'd the Kings Presse damnably.
I haue got, in exchange of a hundred and fiftie
Souldiers, three hundred and odde Pounds. I presse me
none but good House-holders, Yeomens Sonnes: enquire
me out contracted Batchelers, such as had beene ask'd
twice on the Banes: such a Commoditie of warme slaues,
as had as lieue heare the Deuill, as a Drumme; such as
feare the report of a Caliuer, worse then a struck-Foole,
or a hurt wilde-Ducke. I prest me none but such Tostes
and Butter, with Hearts in their Bellyes no bigger then
Pinnes heads, and they haue bought out their seruices:
And now, my whole Charge consists of Ancients, Corporals,
Lieutenants, Gentlemen of Companies, Slaues as
ragged as Lazarus in the painted Cloth, where the Gluttons
Dogges licked his Sores; and such, as indeed were
neuer Souldiers, but dis-carded vniust Seruingmen, younger
Sonnes to younger Brothers, reuolted Tapsters and
Ostlers, Trade-falne, the Cankers of a calme World, and
long Peace, tenne times more dis-honorable ragged,
then an old-fac'd Ancient; and such haue I to fill vp the
roomes of them that haue bought out their seruices: that
you would thinke, that I had a hundred and fiftie totter'd
Prodigalls, lately come from Swine-keeping, from eating
Draffe and Huskes. A mad fellow met me on the way,
and told me, I had vnloaded all the Gibbets, and prest the
dead bodyes. No eye hath seene such skar-Crowes: Ile
not march through Couentry with them, that's flat. Nay,
and the Villaines march wide betwixt the Legges, as if
they had Gyues on; for indeede, I had the most of them
out of Prison. There's not a Shirt and a halfe in all my
Company: and the halfe Shirt is two Napkins tackt together,
and throwne ouer the shoulders like a Heralds
Coat, without sleeues: and the Shirt, to say the truth,
stolne from my Host of S. Albones, or the Red-Nose
Inne-keeper of Dauintry. But that's all one, they'le finde
Linnen enough on euery Hedge.

Enter the Prince, and the Lord of Westmerland.
Prince.
How now blowne Iack? how now Quilt?

Falst.

What Hal? How now mad Wag, what a Deuill
do'st thou in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmerland,
I cry you mercy, I thought your Honour had already
beene at Shrewsbury.

West.

'Faith, Sir Iohn, 'tis more then time that I were
there, and you too: but my Powers are there alreadie.
The King, I can tell you, lookes for vs all: we must away
all to Night.

Falst.

Tut, neuer feare me, I am as vigilant as a Cat, to
steale Creame.

Prince.

I thinke to steale Creame indeed, for thy theft
hath alreadie made thee Butter: but tell me, Iack, whose
fellowes are these that come after?

Falst.

Mine, Hal, mine.

Prince.

I did neuer see such pittifull Rascals.

Falst.

Tut, tut, good enough to tosse: foode for Powder,
foode for Powder: they'le fill a Pit, as well as better:
tush man, mortall men, mortall men.

Westm.

I, but Sir Iohn, me thinkes they are exceeding
poore and bare, too beggarly.

Falst.

Faith, for their pouertie, I know not where they
had that; and for their barenesse, I am sure they neuer
learn'd that of me.

Prince.

No, Ile be sworne, vnlesse you call three fingers
on the Ribbes bare. But sirra, make haste, Percy is already
in the field.

Falst.

What, is the King encamp'd?

Westm.

Hee is, Sir Iohn, I feare wee shall stay too
long.

Falst.

Well, to the latter end of a Fray, and the beginning
of a Feast, fits a dull fighter, and a keene Guest.

Exeunt.

Scœna Tertia.

Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Dowglas, and Vernon.
Hotsp.
Wee'le fight with him to Night.

Worc.
It may not be.

Dowg.
You giue him then aduantage.

Uern.
Not a whit.

Hotsp.
Why say you so? lookes he not for supply?

Uern.
So doe wee.

Hotsp.
His is certaine, ours is doubtfull.

Worc.
Good Cousin be aduis'd, stirre not to night.

Uern.
Doe not, my Lord.

Dowg.
You doe not counsaile well:
You speake it out of feare, and cold heart.

Uern.
Doe me no slander, Dowglas: by my Life,
And I dare well maintaine it with my Life,
If well-respected Honor bid me on,
I hold as little counsaile with weake feare,
As you, my Lord, or any Scot that this day liues.
Let it be seene to morrow in the Battell,
Which of vs feares.

Dowg.
Yea, or to night.

Uern.
Content.

Hotsp.
To night, say I.

Uern.
Come, come, it may not be.
I wonder much, being mē of such great leading as you are
That you fore-see not what impediments
Drag backe our expedition: certaine Horse
Of my Cousin Vernons are not yet come vp,
Your Vnckle Worcesters Horse came but to day,
And now their pride and mettall is asleepe,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a Horse is halfe the halfe of himselfe.

Hotsp.
So are the Horses of the Enemie
In generall iourney bated, and brought low:
The better part of ours are full of rest.

Worc.
The number of the King exceedeth ours:
For Gods 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.

Hotsp.
Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt:
And would to God you were of our determination.
Some of vs loue you well: and euen those some
Enuie your great deseruings, and good name,
Because you are not of our qualitie,
But stand against vs like an Enemie.

Blunt.
And Heauen defend, but still I should stand so,
So long as out of Limit, and true Rule,
You stand against anoynted Maiestie.
But to my Charge.
The King hath sent to know
The nature of your Griefes, and whereupon
You coniure from the Brest of Ciuill Peace,
Such bold Hostilitie, teaching his dutious Land
Audacious Crueltie. If that the King
Haue any way your good Deserts forgot,
Which he confesseth to be manifold,
He bids you name your Griefes, and with all speed
You shall haue your desires, with interest;
And Pardon absolute for your selfe, and these,
Herein mis-led, by your suggestion.

Hotsp.
The King is kinde:
And well wee know, the King
Knowes at what time to promise, when to pay.
My Father, my Vnckle, and my selfe,
Did giue him that same Royaltie he weares:
And when he was not sixe and twentie strong,
Sicke in the Worlds regard, wretched, and low,
A poore vnminded Out-law, sneaking home,
My Father gaue him welcome to the shore:
And when he heard him sweare, and vow to God,
He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
To sue his Liuerie, and begge his Peace,
With teares of Innocencie, and tearmes of Zeale;
My Father, in kinde heart and pitty mou'd,
Swore him assistance, and perform'd it too.
Now, when the Lords and Barons of the Realme
Perceiu'd Northumberland did leane to him,
The more and lesse came in with Cap and Knee,
Met him in Boroughs, Cities, Villages,
Attended him on Bridges, stood in Lanes,
Layd Gifts before him, proffer'd him their Oathes,
Gaue him their Heires, as Pages followed him,
Euen at the heeles, in golden multitudes.
He presently, as Greatnesse knowes it selfe,
Steps me a little higher then his Vow
Made to my Father, while his blood was poore,
Vpon the naked shore at Rauenspurgh:
And now (forsooth) takes on him to reforme
Some certaine Edicts, and some strait Decrees,
That lay too heauie on the Common-wealth;
Cryes out vpon abuses, seemes to weepe
Ouer his Countries Wrongs: and by this Face,
This seeming Brow of Iustice, did he winne
The hearts of all that hee did angle for.
Proceeded further, cut me off the Heads
Of all the Fauorites, that the absent King
In deputation left behinde him heere,
When hee was personall in the Irish Warre.

Blunt.
Tut, I came not to heare this.

Hotsp.
Then to the point.
In short time after, hee depos'd the King.
Soone after that, depriu'd him of his Life:
And in the neck of that, task't the whole State.
To make that worse, suffer'd his Kinsman March,
Who is, if euery Owner were plac'd,
Indeede his King, to be engag'd in Wales,
There, without Ransome, to lye forfeited:
Disgrac'd me in my happie Victories,
Sought to intrap me by intelligence,
Rated my Vnckle from the Councell-Boord,
In rage dismiss'd my Father from the Court,
Broke Oath on Oath, committed Wrong on Wrong,
And in conclusion, droue vs to seeke out
This Head of safetie; and withall, to prie
Into his Title: the which wee finde
Too indirect, for long continuance.

Blunt.
Shall I returne this answer to the King?

Hotsp.
Not so, Sir Walter.
Wee'le with-draw a while:
Goe to the King, and let there be impawn'd
Some suretie for a safe returne againe,
And in the Morning early shall my Vnckle
Bring him our purpose: and so farewell.

Blunt.
I would you would accept of Grace and Loue.

Hotsp.
And't may be, so wee shall.

Blunt.
Pray Heauen you doe.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter the Arch-Bishop of Yorke, and Sir Michell.
Arch.
Hie, good Sir Michell, beare this sealed Briefe
With winged haste to the Lord Marshall,
This to my Cousin Scroope, and all the rest
To whom they are directed.
If you knew how much they doe import,
You would make haste.

Sir Mich.
My good Lord, I guesse their tenor.

Arch.
Like enough you doe.
Tomorrow, good Sir Michell, is a day,
Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
Must bide the touch. For Sir, at Shrewsbury,
As I am truly giuen to vnderstand,
The King, with mightie and quick-raysed Power,
Meetes with Lord Harry: and I feare, Sir Michell,
What with the sicknesse of Northumberland,
Whose Power was in the first proportion;
And what with Owen Glendowers absence thence,
Who with them was rated firmely too,
And comes not in, ouer-rul'd by Prophecies,
I feare the Power of Percy is too weake,
To wage an instant tryall with the King.

Sir Mich.
Why, my good Lord, you need not feare,
There is Dowglas, and Lord Mortimer.

Arch.
No, Mortimer is not there.

Sir Mic.
But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,
And there is my Lord of Worcester,
And a Head of gallant Warriors,
Noble Gentlemen.

Arch.
And so there is, but yet the King hath drawne
The speciall head of all the Land together:
The Prince of Wales, Lord Iohn of Lancaster,
The Noble Westmerland, and warlike Blunt;
And many moe Corriuals, and deare men
Of estimation, and command in Armes.

Sir M.
Doubt not my Lord, he shall be well oppos'd

Arch.
I hope no lesse? Yet needfull 'tis to feare,
And to preuent the worst, Sir Michell speed;
For if Lord Percy thriue not, ere the King
Dismisse his power, he meanes to visit vs:
For he hath heard of our Confederacie,
And, 'tis but Wisedome to make strong against him:
Therefore make hast, I must go write againe
To other Friends: and so farewell, Sir Michell.

Exeunt.