Westmerland, with Worcester & Vernon 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 our 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 Vernon too:
Other offenders we will pause vpon.
Exit Worcester and Vernon.
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.
FINIS. The First Part of Henry the Fourth, with the Life and Death
of
HENRY Sirnamed HOT-SPVRRE.
The Second Part of Henry the Fourth
Containing his Death: and the Coronation of King Henry the Fift
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
INDVCTION.
Enter Rumour.
Open your Eares: For which of you will stop
The vent of Hearing, when loud Rumor speakes?
I, from the Orient, to the drooping West
(Making the winde my Post-horse) still vnfold
The Acts commenced on this Ball of Earth.
Vpon my Tongue, continuall Slanders ride,
The which, in euery Language, I pronounce,
Stuffing the Eares of them with false Reports:
I speake of Peace, while couert Enmitie
(Vnder the smile of Safety) wounds the World:
And who but Rumour, who but onely I
Make fearfull Musters, and prepar'd Defence,
Whil'st the bigge yeare, swolne with some other griefes,
Is thought with childe, by the sterne Tyrant, Warre,
And no such matter? Rumour, is a Pipe
Blowne by Surmises, Ielousies, Coniectures;
And of so easie, and so plaine a stop,
That the blunt Monster, with vncounted heads,
The still discordant, wauering Multitude,
Can play vpon it. But what neede I thus
My well-knowne Body to Anathomize
Among my houshold? Why is Rumour heere?
I run before King Harries victory,
Who in a bloodie field by Shrewsburie
Hath beaten downe yong Hotspurre, and his Troopes,
Quenching the flame of bold Rebellion,
Euen with the Rebels blood. But what meane I
To speake so true at first? My Office is
To noyse abroad, that Harry Monmouth fell
Vnder the Wrath of Noble Hotspurres Sword:
And that the King, before the Dowglas Rage
Stoop'd his Annointed head, as low as death.
This haue I rumour'd through the peasant-Townes,
Betweene the Royall Field of Shrewsburie,
And this Worme-eaten-Hole of ragged Stone,
Where Hotspurres Father, old Northumberland,
Lyes crafty sicke. The Postes come tyring on,
And not a man of them brings other newes
Then they haue learn'd of Me. From Rumours Tongues,
They bring smooth-Comforts-false, worse then True-wrongs.
Enter.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Lord Bardolfe, and the Porter.
L.Bar. Who keepes the Gate heere hoa?
Where is the Earle?
Por. What shall I say you are?
Bar. Tell thou the Earle
That the Lord Bardolfe doth attend him heere
Por. His Lordship is walk'd forth into the Orchard,
Please it your Honor, knocke but at the Gate,
And he himselfe will answer.
Enter Northumberland.
L.Bar. Heere comes the Earle
Nor. What newes Lord Bardolfe? Eu'ry minute now
Should be the Father of some Stratagem;
The Times are wilde: Contention (like a Horse
Full of high Feeding) madly hath broke loose,
And beares downe all before him
L.Bar. Noble Earle,
I bring you certaine newes from Shrewsbury
Nor. Good, and heauen will
L.Bar. As good as heart can wish:
The King is almost wounded to the death:
And in the Fortune of my Lord your Sonne,
Prince Harrie slaine out-right: and both the Blunts
Kill'd by the hand of Dowglas. Yong Prince Iohn,
And Westmerland, and Stafford, fled the Field.
And Harrie Monmouth's Brawne (the Hulke Sir Iohn)
Is prisoner to your Sonne. O, such a Day,
(So fought, so follow'd, and so fairely wonne)
Came not, till now, to dignifie the Times
Since Cæsars Fortunes
Nor. How is this deriu'd?
Saw you the Field? Came you from Shrewsbury?
L.Bar. I spake with one (my L[ord].) that came fro[m] thence,
A Gentleman well bred, and of good name,
That freely render'd me these newes for true
Nor. Heere comes my Seruant Trauers, whom I sent
On Tuesday last, to listen after Newes.
Enter Trauers.
L.Bar. My Lord, I ouer-rod him on the way,
And he is furnish'd with no certainties,
More then he (haply) may retaile from me
Nor. Now Trauers, what good tidings comes fro[m] you?
Tra. My Lord, Sir Iohn Vmfreuill turn'd me backe
With ioyfull tydings; and (being better hors'd)
Out-rod me. After him, came spurring head
A Gentleman (almost fore-spent with speed)
That stopp'd by me, to breath his bloodied horse.
He ask'd the way to Chester: And of him
I did demand what Newes from Shrewsbury:
He told me, that Rebellion had ill lucke,
And that yong Harry Percies Spurre was cold.
With that he gaue his able Horse the head,
And bending forwards strooke his able heeles
Against the panting sides of his poore Iade
Vp to the Rowell head, and starting so,
He seem'd in running, to deuoure the way,
Staying no longer question
North. Ha? Againe:
Said he yong Harrie Percyes Spurre was cold?
(Of Hot-Spurre, cold-Spurre?) that Rebellion,
Had met ill lucke?
L.Bar. My Lord: Ile tell you what,
If my yong Lord your Sonne, haue not the day,
Vpon mine Honor, for a silken point
Ile giue my Barony. Neuer talke of it
Nor. Why should the Gentleman that rode by Trauers
Giue then such instances of Losse?
L.Bar. Who, he?
He was some hielding Fellow, that had stolne
The Horse he rode-on: and vpon my life
Speake at aduenture. Looke, here comes more Newes.
Enter Morton.
Nor. Yea, this mans brow, like to a Title-leafe,
Fore-tels the Nature of a Tragicke Volume:
So lookes the Strond, when the Imperious Flood
Hath left a witnest Vsurpation.
Say Morton, did'st thou come from Shrewsbury?
Mor. I ran from Shrewsbury (my Noble Lord)
Where hatefull death put on his vgliest Maske
To fright our party
North. How doth my Sonne, and Brother?
Thou trembl'st; and the whitenesse in thy Cheeke
Is apter then thy Tongue, to tell thy Errand.
Euen such a man, so faint, so spiritlesse,
So dull, so dead in looke, so woe-be-gone,
Drew Priams Curtaine, in the dead of night,
And would haue told him, Halfe his Troy was burn'd.
But Priam found the Fire, ere he his Tongue:
And I, my Percies death, ere thou report'st it.
This, thou would'st say: Your Sonne did thus, and thus:
Your Brother, thus. So fought the Noble Dowglas,
Stopping my greedy eare, with their bold deeds.
But in the end (to stop mine Eare indeed)
Thou hast a Sigh, to blow away this Praise,
Ending with Brother, Sonne, and all are dead
Mor. Dowglas is liuing, and your Brother, yet:
But for my Lord, your Sonne
North. Why, he is dead.
See what a ready tongue Suspition hath:
He that but feares the thing, he would not know,
Hath by Instinct, knowledge from others Eyes,
That what he feard, is chanc'd. Yet speake (Morton)
Tell thou thy Earle, his Diuination Lies,
And I will take it, as a sweet Disgrace,
And make thee rich, for doing me such wrong
Mor. You are too great, to be (by me) gainsaid:
Your Spirit is too true, your Feares too certaine
North. Yet for all this, say not that Percies dead.
I see a strange Confession in thine Eye:
Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it Feare, or Sinne,
To speake a truth. If he be slaine, say so:
The Tongue offends not, that reports his death:
And he doth sinne that doth belye the dead:
Not he, which sayes the dead is not aliue:
Yet the first bringer of vnwelcome Newes
Hath but a loosing Office: and his Tongue,
Sounds euer after as a sullen Bell
Remembred, knolling a departing Friend
L.Bar. I cannot thinke (my Lord) your son is dead
Mor. I am sorry, I should force you to beleeue
That, which I would to heauen, I had not seene.
But these mine eyes, saw him in bloody state,
Rend'ring faint quittance (wearied, and out-breath'd)
To Henrie Monmouth, whose swift wrath beate downe
The neuer-daunted Percie to the earth,
From whence (with life) he neuer more sprung vp.
In few; his death (whose spirit lent a fire,
Euen to the dullest Peazant in his Campe)
Being bruited once, tooke fire and heate away
From the best temper'd Courage in his Troopes.
For from his Mettle, was his Party steel'd;
Which once, in him abated, all the rest
Turn'd on themselues, like dull and heauy Lead:
And as the Thing, that's heauy in it selfe,
Vpon enforcement, flyes with greatest speede,
So did our Men, heauy in Hotspurres losse,
Lend to this weight, such lightnesse with their Feare,
That Arrowes fled not swifter toward their ayme,
Then did our Soldiers (ayming at their safety)
Fly from the field. Then was that Noble Worcester
Too soone ta'ne prisoner: and that furious Scot,
(The bloody Dowglas) whose well-labouring sword
Had three times slaine th' appearance of the King,
Gan vaile his stomacke, and did grace the shame
Of those that turn'd their backes: and in his flight,
Stumbling in Feare, was tooke. The summe of all,
Is, that the King hath wonne: and hath sent out
A speedy power, to encounter you my Lord,
Vnder the Conduct of yong Lancaster
And Westmerland. This is the Newes at full
North. For this, I shall haue time enough to mourne.
In Poyson, there is Physicke: and this newes
(Hauing beene well) that would haue made me sicke,
Being sicke, haue in some measure, made me well.
And as the Wretch, whose Feauer-weakned ioynts,
Like strengthlesse Hindges, buckle vnder life,
Impatient of his Fit, breakes like a fire
Out of his keepers armes: Euen so, my Limbes
(Weak'ned with greefe) being now inrag'd with greefe,
Are thrice themselues. Hence therefore thou nice crutch,
A scalie Gauntlet now, with ioynts of Steele
Must gloue this hand. And hence thou sickly Quoife,
Thou art a guard too wanton for the head,
Which Princes, flesh'd with Conquest, ayme to hit.
Now binde my Browes with Iron and approach
The ragged'st houre, that Time and Spight dare bring
To frowne vpon th' enrag'd Northumberland.
Let Heauen kisse Earth: now let not Natures hand
Keepe the wilde Flood confin'd: Let Order dye,
And let the world no longer be a stage
To feede Contention in a ling'ring Act:
But let one spirit of the First-borne Caine
Reigne in all bosomes, that each heart being set
On bloody Courses, the rude Scene may end,
And darknesse be the burier of the dead
L.Bar. Sweet Earle, diuorce not wisedom from your Honor
Mor. The liues of all your louing Complices
Leane-on your health, the which if you giue-o're
To stormy Passion, must perforce decay.
You cast th' euent of Warre (my Noble Lord)
And summ'd the accompt of Chance, before you said
Let vs make head: It was your presurmize,
That in the dole of blowes, your Son might drop.
You knew he walk'd o're perils, on an edge
More likely to fall in, then to get o're:
You were aduis'd his flesh was capeable
Of Wounds, and Scarres; and that his forward Spirit
Would lift him, where most trade of danger rang'd,
Yet did you say go forth: and none of this
(Though strongly apprehended) could restraine
The stiffe-borne Action: What hath then befalne?
Or what hath this bold enterprize bring forth,
More then that Being, which was like to be?
L.Bar. We all that are engaged to this losse,
Knew that we ventur'd on such dangerous Seas,
That if we wrought out life, was ten to one:
And yet we ventur'd for the gaine propos'd,
Choak'd the respect of likely perill fear'd,
And since we are o're-set, venture againe.
Come, we will all put forth; Body, and Goods,
Mor. 'Tis more then time: And (my most Noble Lord)
I heare for certaine, and do speake the truth:
The gentle Arch-bishop of Yorke is vp
With well appointed Powres: he is a man
Who with a double Surety bindes his Followers.
My Lord (your Sonne) had onely but the Corpes,
But shadowes, and the shewes of men to fight.
For that same word (Rebellion) did diuide
The action of their bodies, from their soules,
And they did fight with queasinesse, constrain'd
As men drinke Potions; that their Weapons only
Seem'd on our side: but for their Spirits and Soules,
This word (Rebellion) it had froze them vp,
As Fish are in a Pond. But now the Bishop
Turnes Insurrection to Religion,
Suppos'd sincere, and holy in his Thoughts:
He's follow'd both with Body, and with Minde:
And doth enlarge his Rising, with the blood
Of faire King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones,
Deriues from heauen, his Quarrell, and his Cause:
Tels them, he doth bestride a bleeding Land,
Gasping for life, vnder great Bullingbrooke,
And more, and lesse, do flocke to follow him
North. I knew of this before. But to speake truth,
This present greefe had wip'd it from my minde.
Go in with me, and councell euery man
The aptest way for safety, and reuenge:
Get Posts, and Letters, and make Friends with speed,
Neuer so few, nor neuer yet more need.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Falstaffe, and Page.
Fal. Sirra, you giant, what saies the Doct[or]. to my water?
Pag. He said sir, the water it selfe was a good healthy
water: but for the party that ow'd it, he might haue more
diseases then he knew for
Fal. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at mee: the
braine of this foolish compounded Clay-man, is not able
to inuent any thing that tends to laughter, more then I
inuent, or is inuented on me. I am not onely witty in my
selfe, but the cause that wit is in other men. I doe heere
walke before thee, like a Sow, that hath o'rewhelm'd all
her Litter, but one. If the Prince put thee into my Seruice
for any other reason, then to set mee off, why then I
haue no iudgement. Thou horson Mandrake, thou art
fitter to be worne in my cap, then to wait at my heeles. I
was neuer mann'd with an Agot till now: but I will sette
you neyther in Gold, nor Siluer, but in vilde apparell, and
send you backe againe to your Master, for a Iewell. The
Iuuenall (the Prince your Master) whose Chin is not yet
fledg'd, I will sooner haue a beard grow in the Palme of
my hand, then he shall get one on his cheeke: yet he will
not sticke to say, his Face is a Face-Royall. Heauen may
finish it when he will, it is not a haire amisse yet: he may
keepe it still at a Face-Royall, for a Barber shall neuer
earne six pence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if
he had writ man euer since his Father was a Batchellour.
He may keepe his owne Grace, but he is almost out of
mine, I can assure him. What said M[aster]. Dombledon, about
the Satten for my short Cloake, and Slops?
Pag. He said sir, you should procure him better Assurance,
then Bardolfe: he wold not take his Bond & yours,
he lik'd not the Security
Fal. Let him bee damn'd like the Glutton, may his
Tongue be hotter, a horson Achitophel; a
Rascally-yea-forsooth-knaue,
to beare a Gentleman in hand, and then
stand vpon Security? The horson smooth-pates doe now
weare nothing but high shoes, and bunches of Keyes at
their girdles: and if a man is through with them in honest
Taking-vp, then they must stand vpon Securitie: I
had as liefe they would put Rats-bane in my mouth, as
offer to stoppe it with Security. I look'd hee should haue
sent me two and twenty yards of Satten (as I am true
Knight) and he sends me Security. Well, he may sleep in
Security, for he hath the horne of Abundance: and the
lightnesse of his Wife shines through it, and yet cannot
he see, though he haue his owne Lanthorne to light him.
Where's Bardolfe?
Pag. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship
a horse
Fal. I bought him in Paules, and hee'l buy mee a horse
in Smithfield. If I could get mee a wife in the Stewes, I
were Mann'd, Hors'd, and Wiu'd.
Enter Chiefe Iustice, and Seruant.
Pag. Sir, heere comes the Nobleman that committed
the Prince for striking him, about Bardolfe
Fal. Wait close, I will not see him
Ch.Iust. What's he that goes there?
Ser. Falstaffe, and't please your Lordship
Iust. He that was in question for the Robbery?
Ser. He my Lord, but he hath since done good seruice
at Shrewsbury: and (as I heare) is now going with some
Charge, to the Lord Iohn of Lancaster
Iust. What to Yorke? Call him backe againe
Ser. Sir Iohn Falstaffe
Fal. Boy, tell him, I am deafe
Pag. You must speake lowder, my Master is deafe
Iust. I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.
Go plucke him by the Elbow, I must speake with him
Ser. Sir Iohn
Fal. What? a yong knaue and beg? Is there not wars? Is
there not imployment? Doth not the K[ing]. lack subiects? Do
not the Rebels want Soldiers? Though it be a shame to be
on any side but one, it is worse shame to begge, then to
be on the worst side, were it worse then the name of Rebellion
can tell how to make it
Ser. You mistake me Sir
Fal. Why sir? Did I say you were an honest man? Setting
my Knight-hood, and my Souldiership aside, I had
lyed in my throat, if I had said so
Ser. I pray you (Sir) then set your Knighthood and
your Souldier-ship aside, and giue mee leaue to tell you,
you lye in your throat, if you say I am any other then an
honest man
Fal. I giue thee leaue to tell me so? I lay a-side that
which growes to me? If thou get'st any leaue of me, hang
me: if thou tak'st leaue, thou wer't better be hang'd: you
Hunt-counter, hence: Auant
Ser. Sir, my Lord would speake with you
Iust. Sir Iohn Falstaffe, a word with you
Fal. My good Lord: giue your Lordship good time of
the day. I am glad to see your Lordship abroad: I heard
say your Lordship was sicke. I hope your Lordship goes
abroad by aduise. Your Lordship (though not clean past
your youth) hath yet some smack of age in you: some rellish
of the saltnesse of Time, and I most humbly beseech
your Lordship, to haue a reuerend care of your health
Iust. Sir Iohn, I sent you before your Expedition, to
Shrewsburie
Fal. If it please your Lordship, I heare his Maiestie is
return'd with some discomfort from Wales
Iust. I talke not of his Maiesty: you would not come
when I sent for you?
Fal. And I heare moreouer, his Highnesse is falne into
this same whorson Apoplexie
Iust. Well, heauen mend him. I pray let me speak with you
Fal. This Apoplexie is (as I take it) a kind of Lethargie,
a sleeping of the blood, a horson Tingling
Iust. What tell you me of it? be it as it is
Fal. It hath it originall from much greefe; from study
and perturbation of the braine. I haue read the cause of
his effects in Galen. It is a kinde of deafenesse
Iust. I thinke you are falne into the disease: For you
heare not what I say to you
Fal. Very well (my Lord) very well: rather an't please
you) it is the disease of not Listning, the malady of not
Marking, that I am troubled withall
Iust. To punish you by the heeles, would amend the
attention of your eares, & I care not if I be your Physitian
Fal. I am as poore as Iob, my Lord; but not so Patient:
your Lordship may minister the Potion of imprisonment
to me, in respect of Pouertie: but how I should bee your
Patient, to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make
some dram of a scruple, or indeede, a scruple it selfe
Iust. I sent for you (when there were matters against
you for your life) to come speake with me
Fal. As I was then aduised by my learned Councel, in
the lawes of this Land-seruice, I did not come
Iust. Wel, the truth is (sir Iohn) you liue in great infamy
Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, ca[n]not liue in lesse
Iust. Your Meanes is very slender, and your wast great
Fal. I would it were otherwise: I would my Meanes
were greater, and my waste slenderer
Iust. You haue misled the youthfull Prince
Fal. The yong Prince hath misled mee. I am the Fellow
with the great belly, and he my Dogge
Iust. Well, I am loth to gall a new-heal'd wound: your
daies seruice at Shrewsbury, hath a little gilded ouer
your Nights exploit on Gads-hill. You may thanke the
vnquiet time, for your quiet o're-posting that Action
Fal. My Lord?
Iust. But since all is wel, keep it so: wake not a sleeping Wolfe
Fal. To wake a Wolfe, is as bad as to smell a Fox
Iu. What? you are as a candle, the better part burnt out
Fal. A Wassell-Candle, my Lord; all Tallow: if I did
say of wax, my growth would approue the truth
Iust. There is not a white haire on your face, but shold
haue his effect of grauity
Fal. His effect of grauy, grauy, grauy
Iust. You follow the yong Prince vp and downe, like
his euill Angell
Fal. Not so (my Lord) your ill Angell is light: but I
hope, he that lookes vpon mee, will take mee without,
weighing: and yet, in some respects I grant, I cannot go:
I cannot tell. Vertue is of so little regard in these Costormongers,
that true valor is turn'd Beare-heard. Pregnancie
is made a Tapster, and hath his quicke wit wasted in
giuing Recknings: all the other gifts appertinent to man
(as the malice of this Age shapes them) are not woorth a
Gooseberry. You that are old, consider not the capacities
of vs that are yong: you measure the heat of our Liuers,
with the bitternes of your gals: & we that are in the
vaward of our youth, I must confesse, are wagges too
Iust. Do you set downe your name in the scrowle of
youth, that are written downe old, with all the Charracters
of age? Haue you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow
cheeke? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an incresing
belly? Is not your voice broken? your winde short? your
wit single? and euery part about you blasted with Antiquity?
and wil you cal your selfe yong? Fy, fy, fy, sir Iohn
Fal. My Lord, I was borne with a white head, & somthing
a round belly. For my voice, I haue lost it with hallowing
and singing of Anthemes. To approue my youth
farther, I will not: the truth is, I am onely olde in iudgement
and vnderstanding: and he that will caper with mee
for a thousand Markes, let him lend me the mony, & haue
at him. For the boxe of th' eare that the Prince gaue you,
he gaue it like a rude Prince, and you tooke it like a sensible
Lord. I haue checkt him for it, and the yong Lion repents:
Marry not in ashes and sacke-cloath, but in new
Silke, and old Sacke
Iust. Wel, heauen send the Prince a better companion
Fal. Heauen send the Companion a better Prince: I
cannot rid my hands of him
Iust. Well, the King hath seuer'd you and Prince Harry,
I heare you are going with Lord Iohn of Lancaster, against
the Archbishop, and the Earle of Northumberland
Fal. Yes, I thanke your pretty sweet wit for it: but
looke you pray, (all you that kisse my Ladie Peace, at
home) that our Armies ioyn not in a hot day: for if I take
but two shirts out with me, and I meane not to sweat
extraordinarily:
if it bee a hot day, if I brandish any thing
but my Bottle, would I might neuer spit white againe:
There is not a daungerous Action can peepe out his head,
but I am thrust vpon it. Well, I cannot last euer
Iust. Well, be honest, be honest, and heauen blesse your
Expedition
Fal. Will your Lordship lend mee a thousand pound,
to furnish me forth?
Iust. Not a peny, not a peny: you are too impatient
to beare crosses. Fare you well. Commend mee to my
Cosin Westmerland
Fal. If I do, fillop me with a three-man-Beetle. A man
can no more separate Age and Couetousnesse, then he can
part yong limbes and letchery: but the Gowt galles the
one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the Degrees
preuent my curses. Boy?
Page. Sir
Fal. What money is in my purse?
Page. Seuen groats, and two pence