University of Virginia Library

Actus Quintus.

Scena Prima.

Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, Earle of Westmerland, Sir Walter Blunt, and Falstaffe.
King.
How bloodily the Sunne begins to peere
Aboue yon busky hill: the day lookes pale
At his distemperature.

Prin.
The Southerne winde
Doth play the Trumpet to his purposes,
And by his hollow whistling in the Leaues,
Fortels a Tempest, and a blust'ring day.

King.
Then with the losers let it sympathize,
For nothing can seeme foule to those that win.

The Trumpet sounds.
Enter Worcester.
King.
How now my Lord of Worster? 'Tis not well
That you and I should meet vpon such tearmes,
As now we meet. You haue deceiu'd our trust,
And made vs doffe our easie Robes of Peace,
To crush our old limbes in vngentle Steele:
This is not well, my Lord, this is not well.
What say you to it? Will you againe vnknit
This churlish knot of all-abhorred Warre?
And moue in that obedient Orbe againe,
Where you did giue a faire and naturall light,
And be no more an exhall'd Meteor,
A prodigie of Feare, and a Portent
Of broached Mischeefe, to the vnborne Times?

Wor.
Heare me, my Liege:
For mine owne part, I could be well content
To entertaine the Lagge-end of my life
With quiet houres: For I do protest,
I haue not sought the day of this dislike.

King.
You haue not sought it: how comes it then?

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

Prin.
Peace, Chewet, peace.

Wor.
It pleas'd your Maiesty, to turne your lookes
Of Fauour, from my Selfe, and all our House;
And yet I must remember you my Lord,
We were the first, and dearest of your Friends:
For you, my staffe of Office did I breake
In Richards time, and poasted day and night
To meete you on the way, and kisse your hand,
When yet you were in place, and in account
Nothing so strong and fortunate, as I;
It was my Selfe, my Brother, and his Sonne,
That brought you home, and boldly did out-dare
The danger of the time. You swore to vs,
And you did sweare that Oath at Doncaster,
That you did nothing of purpose 'gainst the State,
Nor claime no further, then your new-falne right,
The seate of Gaunt, Dukedome of Lancaster,
To this, we sware our aide: But in short space,
It rain'd downe Fortune showring on your head,
And such a floud of Greatnesse fell on you,
What with our helpe, what with the absent King,
What with the iniuries of wanton time,
The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
And the contrarious Windes that held the King
So long in the vnlucky Irish Warres,
That all in England did repute him dead:
And from this swarme of faire aduantages,
You tooke occasion to be quickly woo'd,
To gripe the generall sway into your hand,
Forgot your Oath to vs at Doncaster,
And being fed by vs, you vs'd vs so,
As that vngentle gull the Cuckowes Bird,
Vseth the Sparrow, did oppresse our Nest,
Grew by our Feeding, to so great a bulke,
That euen our Loue durst not come neere your sight
For feare of swallowing: But with nimble wing
We were inforc'd for safety sake, to flye
Out of your sight, and raise this present Head,
Whereby we stand opposed by such meanes
As you your selfe, haue forg'd against your selfe,
By vnkinde vsage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth
Sworne to vs in yonger enterprize.

Kin.
These things indeede you haue articulated,
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 poore Discontents,
Which gape, and rub the Elbow at the newes
Of hurly burly Innouation:
And neuer yet did Insurrection want
Such water-colours, to impaint his cause:
Nor moody Beggars, staruing for a time
Of pell-mell hauocke, and confusion.

Prin.
In both our Armies, there is many a soule
Shall pay full dearely for this encounter,
If once they ioyne in triall. Tell your Nephew,
The Prince of Wales doth ioyne with all the world
In praise of Henry Percie: By my Hopes,
This present enterprize set off his head,
I do not thinke a brauer Gentleman,
More actiue, valiant, or more valiant yong,
More daring, or more bold, is now aliue,
To grace this latter Age with Noble deeds.
For my part, I may speake it to my shame,
I haue a Truant beene to Chiualry,
And so I heare, he doth account me too:
Yet this before my Fathers Maiesty,
I am content that he shall take the oddes
Of his great name and estimation,
And will, to saue the blood on either side,
Try fortune with him, in a Single Fight.

King.
And Prince of Wales, so dare we venter thee,
Albeit, considerations infinite
Do make against it: No good Worster, no,
We loue our people well; euen those we loue
That are misled vpon your Cousins part:
And will they take the offer of our Grace:
Both he, and they, and you; yea, euery man
Shall be my Friend againe, and Ile be his.
So tell your Cousin, and bring me word,
What he will do. But if he will not yeeld,
Rebuke and dread correction waite on vs,
And they shall do their Office. So bee gone,
We will not now be troubled with reply,
We offer faire, take it aduisedly.

Exit Worcester.
Prin.
It will not be accepted, on my life,
The Dowglas and the Hotspurre both together,
Are confident against the world in Armes.

King.
Hence therefore, euery Leader to his charge,
For on their answer will we set on them;
And God befriend vs, as our cause is iust.

Exeunt.
Manet Prince and Falstaffe.
Fal.
Hal, if thou see me downe in the battell,
And bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.

Prin.
Nothing but a Colossus can do thee that frendship
Say thy prayers, and farewell.

Fal.
I would it were bed time Hal, and all well.

Prin.
Why, thou ow'st heauen a death.

Falst.

'Tis not due yet: I would bee loath to pay him
before his day. What neede I bee so forward with him,
that call's not on me? Well, 'tis no matter, Honor prickes
me on. But how if Honour pricke me off when I come
on? How then? Can Honour set too a legge? No: or an
arme? No: Or take away the greefe of a wound? No.
Honour hath no skill in Surgerie, then? No. What is Honour?
A word. What is that word Honour? Ayre: A
trim reckoning. Who hath it? He that dy'de a Wednesday.
Doth he feele it? No. Doth hee heare it? No. Is it
insensible then? yea, to the dead. But wil it not liue with
the liuing? No. Why? Detraction wil not suffer it, therfore
Ile none of it. Honour is a meere Scutcheon, and so
ends my Catechisme.

Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Worcester, and Sir Richard Uernon.
Wor.
O no, my Nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
The liberall kinde offer of the King.

Ver.
'Twere best he did.

Wor.
Then we are all vndone.
It is not possible, it cannot be,
The King would keepe his word in louing vs,
He will suspect vs still, and finde a time
To punish this offence in others faults:
Supposition, all our liues, shall be stucke full of eyes;
For Treason is but trusted like the Foxe,
Who ne're so tame, so cherisht, and lock'd vp,
Will haue a wilde tricke of his Ancestors:
Looke how he can, or sad or merrily,
Interpretation will misquote our lookes,
And we shall feede like Oxen at a stall,
The better cherisht, still the nearer death.
My Nephewes trespasse may be well forgot,
It hath the excuse of youth, and heate of blood,
And an adopted name of Ptiuiledge,
A haire-brain'd Hotspurre, gouern'd by a Spleene:
All his offences liue vpon my head,
And on his Fathers. We did traine him on,
And his corruption being tane from vs,
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.
Deliuer what you will, Ile say 'tis so.
Heere comes your Cosin.

Enter Hotspurre.
Hot.
My Vnkle is return'd,
Deliuer vp my Lord of Westmerland.
Vnkle, what newe-?

Wor.
The King will bid you battell presently.

Dow.
Defie him by the Lord of Westmerland.

Hot.
Lord Dowglas: Go you and tell him so.

Dow.
Marry and shall, and verie willingly.

Exit Dowglas.
Wor.
There is no seeming mercy in the King.

Hot.
Did you begge any? God forbid.

Wor.
I told him gently of our greeuances,
Of his Oath-breaking: which he mended thus,
By now forswearing that he is forsworne,
He cals vs Rebels, Traitors, and will scourge
With haughty armes, this hatefull name in vs.

Enter Dowglas.
Dow.
Arme Gentlemen, to Armes, for I haue thrown
A braue defiance in King Henries teeth:
And Westmerland that was ingag'd did beare 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 quarrell lay vpon our heads,
And that no man might draw short breath to day,
But I and Harry Monmouth. Tell me, tell mee,
How shew'd his Talking? Seem'd it in contempt?

Ver.
No, by my Soule: I neuer in my life
Did heare a Challenge vrg'd more modestly,
Vnlesse a Brother should a Brother dare
To gentle exercise, and proofe of Armes.
He gaue you all the Duties of a Man,
Trimm'd vp your praises with a Princely tongue,
Spoke your deseruings like a Chronicle,
Making you euer better then his praise,
By still dispraising praise, valew'd with you:
And which became him like a Prince indeed,
He made a blushing citall of himselfe,
And chid his Trewant youth with such a Grace,
As if he mastred there a double spirit
Of teaching, and of learning instantly:
There did he pause. But let me tell the World,
If he out-liue the enuie of this day,
England did neuer owe so sweet a hope,
So much misconstrued in his Wantonnesse.

Hot.
Cousin, I thinke thou art enamored
On his Follies: neuer did I heare
Of any Prince so wilde at Liberty.
But be he as he will, yet once ere night,
I will imbrace him with a Souldiers arme,
That he shall shrinke vnder my curtesie.
Arme, arme with speed. And Fellow's, Soldiers, Friends,
Better consider what you haue to do,
That I that haue not well the gift of Tongue,
Can lift your blood vp with perswasion.

Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord, heere are Letters for you.

Hot.
I cannot reade them now.
OGentlemen, the time of life is short;
To spend that shortnesse basely, were too long.
If life did ride vpon a Dials point,
Still ending at the arriuall of an houre,
And if we liue, we liue to treade on Kings:
If dye; braue death, when Princes dye with vs.
Now for our Consciences, the Armes is faire,
When the intent for bearing them is iust.

Enter another Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord prepare, the King comes on apace.

Hot.
I thanke him, that he cuts me from my tale:
For I professe not talking: Onely this,
Let each man do his best. And heere I draw a Sword,
Whose worthy temper I intend to staine
With the best blood that I can meete withall,
In the aduenture of this perillous day.
Now Esperance Percy, and set on:
Sound all the lofty Instruments of Warre,
And by that Musicke, let vs all imbrace:
For heauen to earte, some of vs neuer shall,
A second time do such a curtesie.

They embrace, the Trumpets sound, the King entereth with his power, alarum vnto the battell. Then enter Dowglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.
Blu.
What is thy name, that in battel thus yu crossest me?
What honor dost thou seeke vpon my head?

Dow.
Know then my name is Dowglas,
And I do haunt thee in the battell thus,
Because some tell me, that thou art a King.

Blunt.
They tell thee true.

Dow.
The Lord of Stafford deere to day hath bought
Thy likenesse: for insted of thee King Harry,
This Sword hath ended him, so shall it thee,
Vnlesse thou yeeld thee as a Prisoner.

Blu.
I was not borne to yeeld, thou haughty Scot,
And thou shalt finde a King that will reuenge
Lords Staffords death.

Fight, Blunt is slaine, then enters Hotspur.
Hot.
O Dowglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus
I neuer had triumphed o're a Scot.

Dow.
All's done, all's won, here breathles lies the king

Hot.
Where?

Dow.
Heere.

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 himselfe.

Dow.
Ah foole: go with thy soule whether it goes,
A borrowed Title hast thou bought too deere.
Why didst thou tell me, that thou wer't a King?

Hot.
The King hath many marching in his Coats.

Dow.
Now by my Sword, I will kill all his Coates,
Ile murder all his Wardrobe peece by peece,
Vntill I meet the King.

Hot.
Vp, and away,
Our Souldiers stand full fairely for the day.

Exeunt
Alarum, and enter Falstaffe solus.
Fal.

Though I could scape shot-free at London, I fear
the shot heere: here's no scoring, but vpon the pate. Soft
who are you? Sir Walter Blunt, there's Honour for you:
here's no vanity, I am as hot as molten Lead, and as heauy
too; heauen keepe Lead out of mee, I neede no more
weight then mine owne Bowelles. I haue led my rag of
Muffins where they are pepper'd: there's not three of my
150. left aliue, and they for the Townes end, to beg during
life. But who comes heere?

Enter the Prince.
Pri.
What, stand'st thou idle here? Lend me thy sword,
Many a Nobleman likes starke and stiffe
Vnder the hooues of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are vnreueng'd. Prethy lend me thy sword

Fal.

O Hal, I prethee giue me leaue to breath awhile:
Turke Gregory neuer did such deeds in Armes, as I haue
done this day. I haue paid Percy, I haue made him sure.

Prin.
He is indeed, and liuing to kill thee:
I prethee lend me thy sword.

Falst.
Nay Hal, if Percy bee aliue, thou getst not my
Sword; but take my Pistoll if thou wilt.

Prin.
Giue it me: What, is it in the Case?

Fal.
I Hal, 'tis hot: There's that will Sacke a City.

The Prince drawes out a Bottle of Sacke.
Prin.
What, is it a time to iest and dally now.

Exit.
Throwes it at him.
Fal.

If Percy be aliue, Ile 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: Giue mee life, which if I can
saue, so: if not, honour comes vnlook'd for, and ther's an
end.

Exit

Scena Tertia.

Alarum, excursions, enter the King, the Prince, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, and Earle of Westmerland.
King.

I prethee Harry withdraw thy selfe, thou bleedest
too much: Lord Iohn of Lancaster, go you with him.

P. Ioh.
Not I, my Lord, vnlesse I did bleed too.

Prin.
I beseech your Maiesty make vp,
Least you retirement do amaze your friends.

King.
I will do so:
My Lord of Westmerland leade him to his Tent.

West.
Come my Lord, Ile leade you to your Tent.

Prin.
Lead me my Lord? I do not need your helpe;
And heauen forbid a shallow scratch should driue
The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
Where stain'd Nobility lyes troden on,
And Rebels Armes triumph in massacres.

Ioh.
We breath too long: Come cosin Westmerland,
Our duty this way lies, for heauens sake come.

Prin.
By heauen thou hast deceiu'd me Lancaster,
I did not thinke thee Lord of such a spirit:
Before, I lou'd thee as a Brother, Iohn;
But now, I do respect thee as my Soule.

King.
I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point,
With lustier maintenance then I did looke for
Of such an vngrowne Warriour.

Prin.
O this Boy, lends mettall to vs all.

Exit.
Enter Dowglas.
Dow.
Another King? They grow like Hydra's heads:
I am the Dowglas, fatall to all those
That weare those colours on them. What art thou
That counterfeit'st the person of a King?

King.
The King himselfe: who Dowglas grieues at hart
So many of his shadowes thou hast met,
And not the very King. I haue two Boyes
Seeke Percy and thy selfe about the Field:
But seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
I will assay thee: so defend thy selfe.

Dow.
I feare thou art another counterfeit:
And yet infaith thou bear'st thee like a King:
But mine I am sure thou art, whoere thou be,
And thus I win thee.

They fight, the K. being in danger,
Enter Prince.
Prin.
Hold vp they head vile Scot, or thou art like
Neuer to hold it vp againe: the Spirits
Of valiant Sherly, Stafford, Blunt, are in my Armes;
It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
Who neuer promiseth, but he meanes to pay.
They Fight, Dowglas flyeth.
Cheerely My Lord: how fare's your Grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton: Ile to Clifton straight.

King.
Stay, and breath awhile.
Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion,
And shew'd thou mak'st some tender of my life
In this faire rescue thou hast brought to mee.

Prin.
O heauen, they did me too much iniury,
That euer said I hearkned to your death.
If it were so, I might haue let alone
The insulting hand of Dowglas ouer you,
Which would haue bene as speedy in your end,
As all the poysonous Potions in the world,
And sau'd the Treacherous labour of your Sonne.

K.
Make vp to Clifton, Ile to Sir Nicholas Gausey.

Exit
Enter Hotspur.
Hot.
If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.

Prin.
Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.

Hot.
My name is Harrie Percie.

Prin.
Why then I see a very valiant rebel of that name.
I am the Prince of Wales, and thinke not Percy,
To share with me in glory any more:
Two Starres keepe not their motion in one Sphere,
Nor can one England brooke a double reigne,
Of Harry Percy, and the Prince of Wales.

Hot.
Nor shall it Harry, for the houre is come
To end the one of vs; and would to heauen,
Thy name in Armes, were now as great as mine.

Prin.
Ile make it greater, ere I part from thee,
And all the budding Honors on thy Crest,
Ile crop, to make a Garland for my head.

Hot.
I can no longer brooke thy Vanities.

Fight.
Enter Falstaffe.
Fal.
Well said Hal, to it Hal. Nay you shall finde no
Boyes play heere, I can tell you.

Enter Dowglas, he fights with Falstaffe, who fals down as if he were dead. The Prince killeth Percie.
Hot.
Oh Harry, thou hast rob'd me of my youth:
I better brooke the losse of brittle life,
Then those proud Titles thou hast wonne of me,
They wound my thoghts worse, then the sword my flesh:
But thought's the slaue of Life, and Life, Times foole;
And Time, that takes suruey of all the world,
Must haue 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 Wormes, braue Percy. Farewell great heart:
Ill-weau'd Ambition, how much art thou shrunke?
When that this bodie did containe a spirit,
A Kingdome for it was too small a bound:
But now two paces of the vilest Earth
Is roome enough. This Earth that beares the dead,
Beares not aliue so stout a Gentleman.
If thou wer't sensible of curtesie,
I should not make so great a shew of Zeale.
But let my fauours hide thy mangled face,
And euen in thy behalfe, Ile thanke my selfe
For doing these fayre Rites of Tendernesse.
Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heauen,
Thy ignomy sleepe with thee in the graue,
But not remembred in thy Epitaph.
What? Old Acquaintance? Could not all this flesh
Keepe in a little life? Poore Iacke, farewell:
I could haue better spar'd a better man.
O, I should haue a heauy misse of thee,
If I were much in loue with Vanity.
Death hath not strucke so fat a Deere to day,
Though many dearer in this bloody Fray:
Imbowell'd will I see thee by and by,
Till then, in blood, by Noble Percie lye.

Exit.
Falstaffe riseth vp.
Falst.

Imbowell'd? If thou imbowell mee to day, Ile
giue you leaue to powder me, and eat me too to morow.
'Twas time to counterfet, or that hotte Termagant Scot,
had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I am no counterfeit;
to dye, is to be a counterfeit, for hee is but the
counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: But
to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liueth, is to be
no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeede.
The better part of Valour, is Discretion; in the
which better part, I haue saued my life. I am affraide of
this Gun-powder Percy though he be dead. How if hee
should counterfeit too, and rise? I am afraid hee would
proue the better counterfeit: therefore Ile make him sure:
yea, and Ile sweare I kill'd him. Why may not hee rise as
well as I: Nothing confutes me but eyes, and no-bodie
sees me. Therefore sirra, with a new wound in your thigh
come you along me.

Takes Hotspurre on his backe.
Enter Prince and Iohn of Lancaster.
Prin.

Come Brother Iohn, full brauely hast thou flesht
thy Maiden sword.

Iohn.
But soft, who haue we heere?
Did you not tell me this Fat man was dead?

Prin.
I did, I saw him dead,
Breathlesse, and bleeding on the ground: Art thou aliue?
Or is it fantasie that playes vpon our eye-sight?
I prethee speake, we will not trust our eyes
Without our eares. Thou art not what thou seem'st.

Fal.

No, that's certaine: I am not a double man: but
if I be not Iacke Falstaffe, then am I a Iacke: There is Percy,
if your Father will do me any Honor, so: if not, let him
kill the next Percie himselfe. I looke to be either Earle or
Duke, I can assure you.

Prin.

Why, Percy I kill'd my selfe, and saw thee dead.

Fal.

Did'st thou? Lord, Lord, how the world is giuen
to Lying? I graunt you I was downe, and out of Breath,
and so was he, but we rose both at an instant, and fought
a long houre by Shrewsburie clocke. If I may bee beleeued,
so: if not, let them that should reward Valour, beare
the sinne vpon their owne heads. Ile take't on my death
I gaue him this wound in the Thigh: if the man vvere aliue,
and would deny it, I would make him eate a peece
of my sword.

Iohn.
This is the strangest Tale that e're I heard.

Prin.
This is the strangest Fellow, Brother Iohn.
Come bring your luggage Nobly on your backe:
For my part, if a lye may do thee grace,
Ile gil'd it with the happiest tearmes I haue.
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 liuing, who are dead.

Exeunt
Fal.

Ile follow as they say, for Reward. Hee that rewards
me, heauen reward him. If I do grow great again,
Ile grow lesse? For Ile purge, and leaue Sacke, and liue
cleanly, as a Nobleman should do.

Exit

Scæna Quarta.

The Trumpets sound.
Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, Earle of Westmerland, with Worcester & Uernon Prisoners.
King.
Thus euer did Rebellion finde Rebuke.
Ill-spirited Worcester, did we not send Grace,
Pardon, and tearmes of Loue to all of you?
And would'st thou turne our offers contrary?
Misuse the tenor of thy Kinsmans trust?
Three Knights vpon our party slaine to day,
A Noble Earle, and many a creature else,
Had beene aliue this houre,
If like a Christian thou had'st truly borne
Betwixt out Armies, true Intelligence.

Wor.
What I haue done, my safety vrg'd me to,
And I embrace this fortune patiently,
Since not to be auoyded, it fals on mee.

King.
Beare Worcester to death, and Uernon too:
Other Offenders we will pause vpon.
Exit Worcester and Uernon.
How goes the Field?

Prin.
The Noble Scot Lord Dowglas, when hee saw
The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,
The Noble Percy slaine, and all his men,
Vpon the foot of feare, fled with the rest;
And falling from a hill, he was so bruiz'd
That the pursuers tooke him. At my Tent
The Dowglas is, and I beseech your Grace.
I may dispose of him.

King.
With all my heart.

Prin.
Then Brother Iohn of Lancaster,
To you this honourable bounty shall belong:
Go to the Dowglas, and deliuer him
Vp to his pleasure, ransomlesse and free:
His Valour shewne vpon our Crests to day,
Hath taught vs how to cherish such high deeds,
Euen in the bosome of our Aduersaries.

King.
Then this remaines: that we diuide our Power.
You Sonne Iohn, and my Cousin Westmerland
Towards Yorke shall bend you, with your deerest speed
To meet Northumberland, and the Prelate Scroope,
Who (as we heare) are busily in Armes.
My Selfe, and you Sonne Harry will towards Wales,
To fight with Glendower, and the Earle of March.
Rebellion in this Land shall lose his way,
Meeting the Checke of such another day:
And since this Businesse so faire is done,
Let vs not leaue till all our owne be wonne.

Exeunt.