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P. Hen. I say, 'tis copper: darest thou be as good as thy word now?

Fal. Rare words! brave world!-
my breakfast; come :-



Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but O, I could wish, this tavern were my drum. man, I dare: but, as thou art prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp. P. Hen. And why not, as the lion?

Fal. The king himself is to be feared as the lion: Dost thou think, I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an I do, I pray God, my girdle


P. Hen. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees! Bat, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty, in this bosom of thine; it is filled up with guts, and midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket! Why, thou whoreson, impudent embossed rascal, if there were any thing in thy pocket but tavernreckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth of sugar-candy to make thee long winded; if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong: Art thou not ashamed?

Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest, in the state of innocency, Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do, in the days of villany? Thou seest, I have more flesh than another man; and therefore more frailty.then, you picked my pocket?

You confess

P. Hen. It appears so by the story. Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee: Go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: thou seest I am pacifiedStill-Nay, pr'ythee, be gone, [Exit HOSTESS.] Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad,-How is that answered?

P. Hen. O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee :-The money is paid back again. Fal. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labour.

P. Hen. I am good friends with my father, and may do any thing.

Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and do it with unwashed hands too. Bard. Do, my lord.

P. Hen. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.


SCENE I.—The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury.


Hot. Well said, my noble Scot: if speaking

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 defyt
The tongues of soothers; but a braver place
In my heart's love, hath no man than yourself;
Nay, task me to the word; approve me, lord.
Doug. Thou art the king of honour :
No man so potent breathes upon the ground,
But I will beard‡ him.

Hot. Do so, and 'tis well :

Enter a MESSENGER, with letters.
What letters hast thou there?—I can but thank



Mess. These letters come from your father,Hot. Letters from him! why comes he not himself?

Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievous sick.

Hot. 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick,

such a justling time? Who leads his power?}
Under whose government come they along?
Mess. His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.
Wor. I pr'ythee, tell me, doth he keep his bed?
Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set

And at the time of my departure thence,
He was much fear'd by his physicians.

Wor. I would, the state of time had first been

Ere he by sickness had been visited;
His health was never better worth than now.
Hot. Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth

Fal. I would, it had been of horse. Where
shall I find one that can steal well? O for a fine The very life-blood of our enterprize;
thief, of the age of two and twenty, or there-Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
abouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God
be thanked for these rebels, they offend none but
the virtuous; I laud them, I praise them.
P. Hen. Bardolph-

Bard. My lord.

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 remov'd but on his own.

P. Hen. Go bear this letter to lord John of Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,


My brother John; this to my lord of Westmore-

Go, Poins, to horse, to horse; for thou, and I,
Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.-

Meet me to-morrow i' the temple hall

At two o'clock i' the afternoon:

That with our small conjunction, we should on,
To see how fortune is dispos'd to us:
For, as he writes, there is no quailing{} now;
Because the king is certainly possess'd¶
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?

Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off:---
And yet, in faith, 'tis not; his present want

There shalt thou know thy charge; and there Seems more than we shall find it :-Were it


Money, and order for their furniture.
The land is burning; Percy stands on high;
And either they, or we, must lower lie.

[Exeunt PRINCE, POINS, and Bardolph.

* Swoln, puffy.


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?

*This expression is applied by way of pre-eminence to the head of the Douglas family. † Disdain. Meet him face to face. Forces. || Languishing. ¶ Informed.

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.

Doug. 'Faith, and so we should!
Wheret 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.

Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, If that the devil and mischance look big Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.


Wor. But yet, I would your father had been
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.

Hot. 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 enterprize,
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.
Doug. As heart can think: there is not such
a word

Spoke of in Scotland, as this term of fear.


Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul.
Ver. Pray God, my news be worth a welcome,

The earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
Is marching hitherwards; with him, prince John.

Hot. No harm: What more?
Ver. And further, I have learn'd,-
The king himself in person is set forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,
With strong and mighty preparation.
Hot. He shall be welcome too.


The nimble-footed mad-cap prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside,
And bid it pass?

To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
Hot. 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-ey'd 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 corse.—
O, that Glendower were come!

Ver. There is more news:

I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along,
He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
Doug. That's the worst tidings that I hear of

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Bard. I will, captain: farewell.


Fal. If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a souced gurnet. I have misused the king's press Where is his 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: inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked twice on the bans; 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 serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers of a calm world, and a long peace; ten times more dishonourably

Ver. All furnish'd, all in arms,
All plum'd like estridges that wing the wind;
Bated like eagles having lately bath'd;¶
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the mouth 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 cuisses** on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,-
Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds,

* Line.

The complexion, the character.
Dressed with Ostrich feathers.
Fresh as birds just washed.

† Whereas. Threw off. ** Armour.

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ragged than an old faced ancient:* and such have 1, 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 scare-crows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat:-Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyvest on; for, indeed, I had the most of them out of prison. There's but 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 at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose inu-keeper of Daintry.‡ But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.

Enter Prince HENRY and WESTMORELAND. P. Hen. How now, blown Jack? how now, quilt? Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag? what a devil dost thou in Warwickshire?-My good lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy; I thought, your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.

West. '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.

Fal. Tut, never fear me; I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.

P. Hen. 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?

Fal. Mine, Hal, mine.

P. Hen. I did never see such pitiful rascals. Fal. 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


West. Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare; too beggarly. Fal. Faith, for their poverty,-I know not where they had that: and for their bareness, I am sure, they never learned that of me.

P. Hen. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs, bare. But, sirrah, make haste; Percy is already in the field. Fal. What, is the king encamped? West. He is, Sir John; I fear, we shall stay too long.

Fal. Well,

To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast,

Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest. [Exeunt. SCENE III-The Rebel Camp, near Shrews


Hot. His is certain, ours is doubtful. Wor. Good cousin, be advis'd; stir not tonight.

Ver. Do not, my lord.

Doug. You do not counsel well; You speak it out of fear, and cold heart. Ver. 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 lives :Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle, Which of us fears.


Doug. Yea, or to-night. Ver. Content.

Hot. To-night, say I.

Ver. Come, come, it may not be. wonder much, being men of such great leading, 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 to-day; 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.

Hot. So are the horses of the enemy In general, journey-bated, and brought low; The better part of ours is full of rest. Wor. 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.
Hot. 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 deserving, and good name;
Because you are not of our quality,t
But stand against us like an enemy.

Blunt. And God defend, but still I should stand


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 this 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 yourself, and these,
Herein misled by your suggestion.

Hot. 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:

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, and And,-when he was not six and twenty strong,


Hot. We'll fight with him to-night.

Wor. It may not be.

Doug. You give him then advantage.

Ver. Not a whit.

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

Hot. Why say you so? looks he not for sup- He came but to be duke of Lancaster,

Ver. So do we.

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With tears of innocency, and terms of zeal,--
My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd,
Swore him assistance, and perform'd it too.
Now, when the lords, and barons of the realm
Perceiv'd 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, proffer'd him their oaths,
Gave him their heirs; as pages follow'd 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 Ravenspurg;
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.
Hot. Then, to the point.-

In short time after, he deposed the king;
Soon after that, depriv'd him of his life;
And, in the neck of that, task'd the whole state:
To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman March
(Who is, if every owner were well plac'd,
Indeed his king,) to be incag'd in Wales,
There without ransom to lie forfeited;
Disgrac'd me in my happy victories;
Sought to entrap me by intelligence;
Rated my uncle from the council-board:
In rage dismiss'd 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?
Hot. Not so, Sir Walter; we'll withdraw a-

Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd
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

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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'er-rul'd by prophecies,)I fear, the power of Percy is too weak

To wage an instant trial with the king. Gent. Why, good my lord, you need not fear; there's Douglas,

And Mortimer.

Arch. No, Mortimer's not there.

Gent. But there is Mordake, Vernon, lord Harry Percy,

And there's my lord of Worcester; and a head Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.

Arch. 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 Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt;
And many more corrivals, and dear men
Of estimation and command in arms.

Gent. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well oppos'd.

Arch. 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 severally.

ACT V. SCENE I.-The King's Camp near Shrewsbury. Enter King HENRY, Prince HENRY, Prince JOHN of Lancaster, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and Sir JOHN FALSTAFF.

K. Hen. How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above yon buskyt bill! the day looks pale
At his distemperature.

P. Hen. The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes;
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves,
Foretells a tempest, and a blustering day.

K. Hen. Then with the losers let it sympathize, For nothing can seem foul to those that win.

Trumpet.-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 deceiv'd 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't? will you again unknit This churlish knot of all-abhorred war? And move in that obedient orb again, Where you would give a fair and natural light; And be no more an exhal'd meteor,

A prodigy of fear, and a portent

Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
Wor. 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,

* A strength on which they reckoned,
+ Put off.

† Woody.

I have not sought the day of this dislike. K. Hen. You have not sought for it! how comes it then?

Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it. P. Hen Peace, chewet,* peace.

Wor. It pleas'd 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 dangers of the time: You swore to us,-
And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,-
That you did nothing 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 rain'd down fortune showering on your head;
And such a flood of greatness fell on you,-
What with our help; what with the absent

What with the injuries of a wanton time;
The seeming sufferances that you had borne ;
And the contrarious winds, that held the king
So long in his unlucky Irish wars,
That all in England did repute him dead,-
And, from this swarm of fair advantages,
You took occasion to be quickly woo'd
To gripe the general sway into your hand :
Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster;
And, being fed by us, you us'd 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 enforc'd, for safety sake, to fly

Out of your sight, and raise this present head:
Whereby we stand opposed by such means
As you yourself have forg'd against yourself;
By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
And violation of all faith and troth
Sworn to us in your younger enterprize.

K. Hen. These things, indeed, you have ar-

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 changlings, and poor discontents,
Which gape, and rub the elbow, at the news
Of hurlyburly innovation:

And never yet did insurrection want
Such water-colours, to impaint his cause;
Nor moody beggars, starving for a time
Of pellmell havoc and confusion.

P. Hen. In both our armies, there is many a

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 enterprize 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,

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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.

K. Hen. 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. P. Hen. It will not be accepted, on my life: The Douglas and the Hotspur together Are confident against the world in arms. K. Hen. 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 KING, BLUNT, and Prince JOHN. Fal. Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, and bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.

P. Hen. Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell. Fal. I would it were bed-time, Hal, and all well.

P. Hen. Why, thou owest God a death.


Fal. '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. Yea, but how if honour pricks me off when I come on; how then? Can honour set 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 in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning!-Who hath it? He that died o' Wedmesday. 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.

SCENE II-The Rebel Camp.-Enter WORCESTER and VERNON.

Wor. O, no, my nephew must not know, Sir

The liberal kind offer of the king.
Ver. 'Twere best he did.

Wor. Then are we all undone.
It is not possible, it cannot be,
The king should keep his word in loving us;
He will suspect us still, and find a time
To punish this offence in other faults:
Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes:
For treason is but trusted like the fox;
*Painted heraldry in funerals,

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