Henry IV Part 1

Select or Print the text

Original text
Act IV, Scene I
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.

Hot.
Do so, and 'tis well.
Enter a Messenger.
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 Gouernment 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, / At 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 fourteene 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.
Original text
Act IV, Scene II
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 a 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 to-gether, 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 West-merland,
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.
Original text
Act IV, Scene III
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.

Vern.
Not a whit.

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

Vern.
So doe wee.

Hotsp.
His is certaine, ours is doubtfull.

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

Vern.
Doe not, my Lord.

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

Vern.
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.

Vern.
Content.

Hotsp.
To night, say I.

Vern.
Come, come, it may not be. / I wonder much,
being mẽ 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,
Step 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 hear 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.
Original text
Act IV, Scene IV
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.
To morrow, 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.
Modern text
Act IV, Scene I
Enter 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 as general current through the world.
By God, I cannot flatter, I do 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.

HOTSPUR
Do so, and 'tis well.
Enter one with letters
What letters hast thou 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
Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick
In such a justling time? Who leads his power?
Under whose government come they along?

MESSENGER
His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.

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 physicians.

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 offering 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's 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 a 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 term 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 is 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,
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer,
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry with his beaver on,
His cuishes 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 taste 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
Modern text
Act IV, Scene II
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 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, yeomen's sons, enquire
me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked
twice on the banns, such a commodity of warm slaves as
had as lief 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 a long peace, ten times more
dishonourable-ragged than an old fazed ancient. And
such have I to fill up the rooms of them as 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
the truth stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, 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 HAL
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 night.

FALSTAFF
Tut, never fear me: I am as vigilant as a cat to
steal cream.

PRINCE HAL
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 HAL
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 HAL
No, I'll be sworn, unless you call three
fingers in the ribs bare. But sirrah, make haste. Percy is
already in the field.
Exit

FALSTAFF
What, is the King encamped?

WESTMORLAND
He is, Sir John: I fear we shall stay
too long.
Exit

FALSTAFF
Well,
To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast
Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.
Exit
Modern text
Act IV, Scene III
Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas, 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.
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 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 God 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, and 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,
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 lie 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 well 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 mine 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 mine uncle
Bring him our purposes – and so, farewell.

BLUNT
I would you would accept of grace and love.

HOTSPUR
And may be so we shall.

BLUNT
Pray God you do.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act IV, Scene IV
Enter the Archbishop of York and Sir Michael

ARCHBISHOP
Hie, good Sir Michael, bear this sealed brief
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
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 a rated sinew too,
And comes not in, o'erruled 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
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
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, they shall be well opposed.

ARCHBISHOP
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
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2020 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL